The only thing left to be desired about sex with Sakura Haruno was her stamina.
Truly. It was the only flaw in an otherwise perfect experience. Everything else…. Fucking incredible.
It had been a struggle, a genuine, teeth-gritting struggle, not to fill her up. Not to paint her insides white and claim her womb with my seed. Especially after she figured out how to control those chakra-strengthened pussy walls, learning to pulse and squeeze around me in rhythm with my thrusts. It showed her resolve to learn, her determination to excel even in this. Really, Sakura was a good student.
And as a good student, she'd taken everything her teacher imparted to her. I'd fucked her in so many different positions, few could handle, testing the limits of her flexibility and endurance.
We started with the mating press, where I'd folded her in half, her mother holding her legs, and I drilled into her until she screamed herself hoarse. Four orgasms. No squirting, but she'd clenched so hard I thought she might crack a rib. She was cute in this position. All flushed cheeks and teary eyes, trying so hard to be tough while being utterly loved and cared for, so hard and so deep.
Then I'd taken her from behind, doggy style, where Mebuki forced her daughter's head down, burying her face in the mattress with her ass up, and let me pound her from behind. Two major climaxes, one squirt, I didn't keep count of the small orgasms, she started having them then, and she couldn't stop since. This position made her cum the hardest. something about the angle hit her just right, and she'd lost all ability to form coherent sentences.
After that, I decided to test how she would do if given the reins. I set her up in cowgirl, where I'd made her ride me while I played with her tits. She'd only managed one orgasm here. Even in her drunken state, she was too self-conscious, too aware of how she looked, and her legs gave out halfway through. But watching her struggle and try was so fucking adorable.
I had her in many, many other positions, some awkward, some intense, some hard, and some tiring. All to mark her pussy and rearrange her insides. I had let go of most restraint with her and dominated her so hard, and she responded so fucking well that I want to give her more and more and more and see her take and take and take.
We did missionary a few other times, where she'd clung to my neck, and I kissed her brain out as I wrapped my arms around her tight and responsive body, drilling her right and with might. She had climaxed seven times, squirting four—once so hard it soaked the wall again. She loved this one, I think, because she could hide her face against my shoulder when the shame got too intense, or perhaps it was the bear hug, or the kisses…. It was hard to tell; she was all over the place.
Eighteen major earth-shattering orgasms total. Eleven squirts. I'd kept count. It was my duty as her teacher, after all.
And she'd accepted my care, my attention, my lust like a good girl. Hell, better than good, she'd reciprocated. She'd kissed me back with increasing confidence. She'd wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper. She'd even whispered "Sensei" in my ear in that breathy, needy voice that made my cock throb.
I'd released on her so many times like I never did since before I was a chunin. My seed coated her stomach, her chest, her face, her back, on her ass, on her thighs. Her mother could have taken a bath in it, and judging by the happy humming coming from the bathroom, Mebuki might actually be doing just that, after she cleaned it out of her daughter, doing her mother's duties'.
But again... Sakura's stamina was deplorable.
I turned my head to the side. She was lying beside me on the ruined bed, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Her naked body was a work of art in the dim light. Pale skin flushed pink in places, bruises in others, occasionally twitching. Her modest breasts rising and falling with each breath, her flat stomach marked with faint red lines from where I'd gripped her too hard. Her thighs were pressed together, still trembling slightly. Her long pink hair was splayed out in a tangled mess beneath her.
I reached out and cupped one of her budding and so inviting breasts. It was warm, soft, and still incredibly sensitive. I kneaded it gently, thumbing the nipple.
I need to train her in taijutsu, I thought. Raise that stamina up. She is my student; she can't be tapping out this early.
Sakura scrunched up her nose, shooting me a side-eye that was equal parts exhaustion and irritation. She slapped my hand away weakly, trying to cover her chest with her arm.
"Can you... not?" she grumbled, her voice hoarse. "It's weird. You just doing that... so casually. Like they're stress balls or something. I'm naked, Sensei. Have some decency."
I chuckled, catching her wrist and moving it aside so I could cup her breast again, harder this time, watching the micro-expressions flicker across her face. Annoyance, embarrassment, a hint of arousal she was trying to suppress.
"I'm just helping them reach their full potential," I quipped, squeezing the soft flesh. "They were calling out to me, Sakura. 'Sensei, Sensei, please pay attention to us! Her stamina is weak, but we're still ready to go!' It would be cruel to ignore them."
She held my gaze, irritation flaring in her green eyes. But she didn't stop me. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe she believed my bullshit about breast growth. Maybe she just loved the attention. Or maybe all three of those.
She tried to maintain her glare, but it crumbled into a sigh of exasperation. She let her head fall back against the pillow.
"You're impossible," she muttered.
"And you're thinking too much," I countered softly and shifted to her other breast to give it equal attention. "What's going on in that pink head of yours?"
"Nothi—" she began, but stopped herself. She looked at the ceiling again, her expression turning wistful.
"You'll think I'm childish," she started quietly. "But... I always thought my first time would be different. More... romantic, I guess. Candles. Roses. Slow music." Her hands drifted down to her lower belly, resting flat against her skin as if feeling the phantom echo of my cock stretching her. "Not... this. Not in a hotel room with my mom watching, getting treated like... well. You know."
Regrets after clarity, huh?
I hummed, "And I guess it would be with someone else?" I paused, "With that Uchiha?"
Her body tensed. She bit her lip, looking away. Then she nodded slowly, a small, self-deprecating chuckle escaping her.
"Yeah," she admitted. "God, I was stupid. I always thought... maybe one day. Maybe if I got strong enough, or pretty enough... I'd be his first, and he'd be mine. We'd figure it out together." She laughed again, a dry, humorless sound. "Mom was right. I really was childish. Uchihas only marry other Uchihas. But I wanted to believe... and now..." She trailed off, her hand curling into a fist over her navel. "Now I'm not... I'm not... intact anymore. It's gone. I've lost the one thing I was saving for him."
I sighed loudly, a melodramatic sound of lament. "Way to make a man feel inadequate after he had given his all."
Sakura's eyes widened in panic. "No! It's not you! You were—you were amazing, Sensei! Really! I've never felt anything like that! You were so good and—and attentive, a little bit rough and you didn't listen at all when I told you to go slow, but—" She fumbled for words. "But…. but I love Sasuke-kun. I'm sorry, I hope…. you understand. I didn't mean—"
Of course. I withheld a sigh and slid my hand from her chest down to her belly, covering her hand with mine and squeezing gently.
"I'm teasing you, Sakura. I understand. What happens between us is a secret. Between a teacher and his student." I paused, smiling. "A perverted teacher and his perverted student."
That becomes our secret. Our special bond. We even have our inside joke.
The pinkette smiled softly at that, a genuine, tired little thing. Then she sighed again. "It doesn't matter now anyway," she said quietly. "Sasuke-kun will never want me now that I'm... now that I'm not..."
I flicked her forehead.
"Ow!" She rubbed the spot, glaring at me. "What was that for?!"
"Now, you're truly being childish," I said. "If he doesn't want you, it just means he doesn't deserve you."
Sakura looked touched for a second, her eyes shimmering. But because I'd insulted her precious Sasuke, she had to defend him. "He wouldn't be wrong, though," she muttered. "He wouldn't want someone who... He deserves to be the only one."
I see…
I wanted to correct. Her only one was me, and nobody else. But I held myself; she was not ready for that yet. But an idea crossed my mind, and I decided to put it to the test immediately. "Let me show you something."
I sat up, forming a hand sign. My chakra was sluggish after cumming so many times, but I wasn't in a rush. I coaxed it carefully and slowly activated my medical ninjutsu.
Then I unceremoniously reached between her twitching thighs and cupped her abused, well-fucked pussy in my palm.
"Sensei!" Sakura yelped, her legs snapping together reflexively. "What are you—?!"
"Stay still," I ordered, pushing her thighs apart and pinning her down with my other hand.
As the healing chakra began to seep into her tissues, the reaction was immediate. Her muscles, sore and overstretched, began to knit back together. The micro-tears healed. The swelling went down. But because it was her most sensitive area, the sensation of rapid cell regeneration felt, as usual, intensely stimulating.
Sakura gasped. Her legs fell open involuntarily. Her toes curled, feet arched, her soles pushed against the mattress as her hips bucked up into my hand, seeking more of that soothing, electric warmth.
"Ah... oh...sensei…. that feels... weird... good..." she moaned, biting her fist to stifle the sound.
With how sluggish and hard to mold my chakra was, it took nearly three minutes to fully repair the damage I'd done. When I finally pulled my hand away, the green glow fading, Sakura let out a whine of disappointment.
"Wait—why'd you stop?" she blurted, reaching for my hand before realizing what she was doing. She stopped, blushing furiously. "I mean—I didn't mean—"
I looked at her with amusement. "Good as new. You're intact again, Sakura. Nothing to worry about."
"What are you—" Her eyes went wide. "Are you serious?! That can't—"
She immediately spread her legs wide, not caring about modesty anymore, and peered down at her own crotch. She used her fingers to spread her lips, inspecting the area with the intensity of a surgeon. She probed the entrance, wincing in anticipation of pain that never came, then pushed a finger in.
I watched, my breathing growing heavy. Watching her hold herself open like that, examining her own virginity... my cock was already rising again.
Can she take another round?
"Oh my god," Sakura breathed. "It's... there. It's real—It's back!" She looked up at me, her face lighting up with genuine joy. Then she launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Sensei! Thank you! Thank you so much! Now Sasuke won't hate me! It's like it never happened! I can still be his first! I can still—"
It was fascinating to watch the mental gymnastics play out in real-time. To any competent kunoichi, a hymen is nothing, collateral damage from a high kick or a rough landing, a scrap of useless tissue that usually tears long before a man ever gets near it.
But Sakura…. Sakura pinned her entire self-worth on a piece of skin smaller than a ryo coin. She honestly believed that fixing the biology erased the history. As if the healing jutsu had somehow scrubbed the memory of her squirting on the walls, or the way she'd clamped down on me like a vice, or the obscene noises she'd made while riding out her orgasm.
It was a terrifyingly useful delusion. She had found a loophole in her own morality. A reset button. As long as it was hit at the end of whatever debauched and obscene things she did, she could look in the mirror and still see herself as innocent. That kind of compartmentalization was a goddamn superpower.
That aside, I was a bit annoyed at the mention of Sasuke. But I couldn't be that annoyed with a naked girl in my arms.
"Hey," I grunted, patting her back. "Personal space, much?"
She leaned back sheepishly, still straddling my lap. "Sorry," she laughed nervously. "I must smell bad, huh? And I'm all sweaty and…. stuff."
She was sitting directly on my shaft. She had to feel it pressing against her freshly healed pussy. But she didn't seem to mind. Instead, she started pelting me with questions.
"What jutsu was that?" she asked excitedly. "Is it medical ninjutsu? I know it is, but was it a generic technique or a variation? What are the limits? How long do I have before it's too late to heal it back?"
I deadpanned. "I was just thinking you didn't have the energy to continue. But this proves otherwise."
Sakura's face went pale. She scrambled back, holding up her hands. "No! I mean—uh—I'm tired! Really tired! And... my legs hurt! I have cramps! And... and!" She grasped for the ultimate excuse. "And I'm untouched again! I can't ruin it immediately! That would be... wasteful!"
I huffed. "Legs hurt? I can heal those, too. Cramps? Massage. And the purity..." I grinned wolfishly. "I can just fix you up again afterwards. Infinite purity loop."
Sakura started scrambling further up the bed, looking genuinely panicked now. "No, really, Sensei! I think I've learned enough for one day! My brain is full!"
"Come here, you," I grabbed her ankle, dragging her back down.
"Nooo,"She half yelped and half gigled.
Just then, the bathroom door opened. Mebuki sauntered out, still stark naked, her skin glistening. She'd definitely rubbed my cum all over herself again. What a strange woman.
"Oh, Eishin-sama!" she said brightly. "I must admit you have such good eyes! You were right about her; she did surprise me. And I'm her mother, I should know her best, yet, Sakura really exceeded my—" She paused, taking in the scene. "What are you two doing?"
Sakura and I exchanged a look. A silent understanding passed between us.
"Sensei…." Sakura said innocently. "I did my best, but I think the best way to learn is through demonstration."
"Mmh, that can be arranged," I nodded, hopping off the bed. "You heard her, Mebuki. Let's give her a demonstration of how things are done."
Mebuki blinked, then preened, her vanity overriding her common sense. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped," she said, walking toward me with a sway in her hips. "Even with a young woman, a much experienced woman—"
When she reached me, I didn't embrace her. I grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over, bending her face-first onto the mattress.
"Oh!" She laughed, startled but pleased. "My, how rough. Like a beast in heat. You really are insatiable, aren't you?" She turned her head to look at Sakura, beaming. "Pay attention, Sakura. This is how a woman accepts a man's—"
I pushed her head down into the mattress, cutting off her speech. Her mature ass was up in the air, ripe for the taking.
"Sakura," I said. "Hold her like that."
Sakura hesitated for a heartbeat. Then a wicked little smile curled her lips—probably remembering how her mother had held her down earlier.
"Yes, Sensei," she chirped.
The pinkette scrambled over and grabbed Mebuki's neck, pinning her down.
"Wait—Sakura?" Mebuki mumbled into the sheets, sounding confused. "What are you—Ah!"
"Spread yourself," I cut her off with a spank and an order.
Mebuki, ever the obedient slut, did as she was told. She reached back with one hand and spread her ass cheeks wide, giving a little wiggle.
"Like this, Eishin-sama?" she purred. "See, Sakura? Presentation is key. You have to make yourself inviting—Eh?"
I positioned myself, and the middle-aged woman felt it then. The tip of my cock prodding at her. Not against her pussy.
Against her puckered star-shaped asshole.
Mebuki went rigid. "Wait—not there!" The older woman's voice pitched up in genuine panic. The only place the shameless woman could feel shame. "That's not... that's the wrong hole! It's not good for you! It's dirty! Please, Eishin-sama, use the proper—"
She tried to push up, but Sakura shoved her head back down with vindictive glee.
"Don't be dramatic, Mom," Sakura scolded, mimicking Mebuki's earlier tone perfectly. "You're always telling me to endure discomfort. Eishin-sama is just teaching you a lesson. So stop clenching. You'll only hurt yourself. Just relax and accept it."
"Sakura! You don't understand!" Mebuki pleaded, her voice muffled. "It's not proper! That place isn't for— A lady doesn't—!"
"Oh, hush," Sakura dismissed her, waving a hand. "Eishin-sama knows what he's doing. You should be grateful he wants to touch you there. Just focus on pleasing him." She looked at me, grinning. "Don't worry about her bitching, Sensei. You know how she is. Just shove it in. She's resilient."
Oh, how the tables had turned.
I grinned at my student. Like mother, like daughter.
And then I forced my thick, unlubricated dick into the middle-aged mom who had spent the last hour tormenting her daughter, breaking her asshole open to give her exactly the karma she deserved, one brutal thrust at a time.
— — — — — — — — — — —
A/N: And here we are, the final chapter of this long-ass arc. It definitely got away from me, but lesson learned. From now on, I'll try to keep the steamy stuff to 2–3 chapters (though I might still go wild with Tsunade..... but that's a long way off).
Thanks for sticking with me through it, and let me know your thoughts.
You can read up to 8 chapters ahead at patreon.com/vizem