Time flew like a shuttle, and in the blink of an eye, over a year had passed.
After a brief period of turbulence, the Shinobi world finally ushered in a true era of peace.
The price for this peace was significant—all five major hidden villages had lost their ultimate strategic weapons, the Tailed Beasts. However, the possibility of a large-scale war breaking out had effectively vanished.
Six months ago, the battle between Saiki and the hidden threat, Isshiki Otsutsuki, had forced every restless faction into absolute submission.
That battle had no audience, yet every powerhouse in the Shinobi world felt the terrifying aftershocks.
The heavens changed color and the earth shook for three days and nights.
When the dust settled, only one result was known: the Konoha ninja named Saiki was still alive, and Isshiki Otsutsuki had... disappeared.
Since then, no one dared to question Saiki's strength or challenge Konoha's authority.
Peace had arrived in a manner that was nothing short of tyrannical.
Afternoon Repose with Kushina
In the village of Konoha, during the lunch break.
Inside Kushina Uzumaki's living room, suppressed and sweet moans echoed through the air.
The red-haired woman was kneeling on the back of the sofa, her hands gripping the leather surface so hard her knuckles turned white.
Her fair neck was arched back in a graceful curve, her cherry lips slightly parted as gasps for air and pleas for mercy escaped her:
"Saiki... slow... down... it's too fast... mmm... ah..."
Saiki stood in the narrow gap between the sofa and the coffee table, his hands gripping Kushina's slender yet powerful waist. One hand was wrapped around her iconic red ponytail, pulling her head back as his hips drove forward in a powerful, rhythmic motion.
The sound of flesh slamming into flesh mixed with a wet squelching, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet room.
"Didn't Teacher say... she wanted me to be forceful?" Saiki asked with a playful chuckle, his movements becoming even more predatory.
"That... that was earlier... now... ah—!" Kushina's words were cut short by a violent surge, her body trembling uncontrollably.
She could feel that familiar, terrifying heat gathering deep within her, about to shatter her limits.
Instead of slowing down, Saiki's assault became even more frenzied, every deep thrust accurately striking the most sensitive, soul-shaking core of her being.
"I... I can't... Saiki..." Kushina's voice broke into a sob.
"As you wish."
Saiki took a deep breath, his hips accelerating into a blur. The final few lunges were so intense they nearly overturned the sofa!
"AAAAAAAAAGH—!!!"
Kushina let out a high-pitched, long-drawn scream, her body arching into a taut bow. Her toes curled, and every inch of her skin flushed a seductive pink.
Simultaneously, Saiki let out a low growl, gripping her waist tight as he injected his scorching seeds into the deepest depths of her fertile soil.
The high-pitched cries gradually faded, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing.
Saiki released her ponytail and slowly withdrew with a soft pop.
Kushina remained in her position, her body still twitching with aftershocks. The intensity of the climax had temporarily wiped her consciousness.
Her open flower could not yet close, fluttering slightly as a mix of white cream and translucent nectar trickled down the inside of her thighs, staining the sofa cushion with a dark, wet patch.
Saiki sat on the armchair nearby and pulled the limp Kushina into his lap.
She was entirely soft, leaning against his chest like a pool of spring water.
Saiki's hand naturally moved to her chest—after a year of "diligent farming," she had become much more voluptuous than before, her two pink cherries standing proud in the air.
He kneaded them gently, savoring the softness and elasticity.
After a long while, Kushina finally regained her senses.
"Saiki... you bastard..." her voice was hoarse and lazy. She glared at him with a blush still on her face. "You nearly broke my waist."
"Is that so?" Saiki smirked, rolling her nipple between his fingers. "But who was it that complained yesterday about me not feeding her enough?"
Kushina's face turned as red as a ripe apple.
She feebly punched his chest in embarrassment. "Don't say it! That was... that was..."
"That was what?" Saiki whispered into her ear, his breath making her ears itch.
"I said don't say it!" Kushina turned her head away, her ears glowing red.
It was hard to imagine that this woman, once known as the "Bloody Habanero" for her fiery temper, could now be so shy and submissive.
Love and thorough nourishment could truly transform a person.
"Alright, alright, I won't say it," Saiki laughed, kissing her cheek. "As long as Teacher is happy."
As he spoke, Kushina felt that hot, hard desire pressing against her backside again.
Her body went rigid, and she hurriedly pressed down on Saiki's hand. "No! Not again! I really can't... I have to go to work at the Sealing Corps this afternoon..."
She tried to squirm out of his arms, but Saiki's grip tightened.
"Can't Teacher stay and accompany me today?" his voice carried a pleading, boyish charm.
"No!" Kushina shook her head firmly. She glanced at the clock and shrieked, "Ah! It's almost 1:30! I'm going to be late!"
She scrambled out of his lap, jumping off the sofa and frantically searching the floor for her clothes.
"It's all your fault! All your fault!" she grumbled while hurriedly snapping on her bra. "We agreed on just once for lunch... and then you did... that..."
Saiki leaned back on the sofa, enjoying the sight of her panic. "Who was the one holding me and yelling 'faster' just now?"
"You—!" Kushina, mortified, threw the red lace bra she had just picked up at him.
Saiki caught it, unfolding the fabric. It was an exquisite red lace style.
He arched an eyebrow. "Teacher likes this kind?"
"Give it back!" Kushina lunged forward to snatch it, too embarrassed to keep bickering. She threw on her clothes, grabbed her shinobi pouch, and bolted for the door. "I'm leaving! I'll settle the score with you tonight!"
Bang! The door slammed shut.
Saiki looked at the empty room and the wet stain on the sofa, letting out a chuckle.
I put so much inside her... even if some leaked out, is she really okay going to work like that?
A Secret Meeting with Reimei
After leaving Kushina's, Saiki wandered the streets of Konoha for a bit before turning down a quiet side street. He stopped in front of a shop called "Genhai Florist." The sign looked peaceful in the sunlight. Saiki pushed the door open, the bell chiming.
The shop was empty, but he heard movement upstairs.
He crossed the shop floor and climbed the narrow wooden stairs.
The second floor was a living space, small but meticulously clean.
Saiki pushed open the bedroom door—inside was a beautiful woman taking a nap.
Soon, the sound of flesh slamming and wet squelching drifted from the room, accompanied by a woman's suppressed, sweet moans.
"Auntie Reimei, do you want me faster... or slower?" Saiki asked with a smirk.
"Ah... don't... don't ask... whatever... you want... mmm... ah..." a mature female voice responded between gasps, her voice trembling with arousal.
On the bed, Saiki was pinned on top of a voluptuous, mature woman.
She had long dark-brown hair scattered across the pillow. Her lovely face was flushed a deep red, her eyes half-closed and her red lips parted as she exhaled sweet, ragged breaths.
Her name was Reimei, the mother of Saiki's classmate Genhai. She was a stunning widow who had been alone for nearly ten years.
Currently, her limbs were wrapped around Saiki like an octopus. While her mouth said "no," her plump, fleshy hips were frantically arching upward to meet every impact.
"Auntie's body... is very honest," Saiki whispered, leaning down to kiss her as his hips moved with increasing violence.
"Mmm... ah... I... I'm going to... break..." Reimei's voice suddenly spiked. Her body shuddered violently, her long legs clamping Saiki's waist in a vice as her nails dug into his back.
The climax was sudden and overwhelming.
Saiki didn't stop, continuing to drive into her.
A few minutes later, he reached his limit as well.
"Auntie Reimei, I'm coming," he warned through grit teeth.
The woman, still lost in the afterglow, suddenly snapped to awareness and tried to push him. "No... don't put it inside..."
Saiki gave one final, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt before withdrawing.
Pop. Reimei hurriedly sat up and knelt before him. She cupped his still-rigid heat in both hands and lowered her head to take it in.
Her movements were clumsy but earnest. Her tongue traced the tip before she tried to swallow him whole.
Saiki stroked her hair, enjoying the wet warmth.
A few minutes later, he erupted in her mouth.
Reimei's throat worked as she swallowed every drop, leaving nothing behind.
When finished, she used her tongue to clean him meticulously before looking up with a flushed face.
Saiki pulled her into a hug. "Auntie Reimei, do you really love the taste that much?"
The mature woman turned even redder, whispering, "If it's inside... I'll get pregnant."
They rested for a while before dressing and heading downstairs.
Just as they reached the shop floor, the bell rang.
A spiky-haired youth walked in. Seeing Saiki, his eyes lit up. "Boss! What are you doing here?"
It was Genhai, Saiki's former classmate—a hardworking boy with average talent.
"Oh, just came to chat," Saiki said without blinking. "Auntie was kind enough to invite me up for some tea."
Behind him, Reimei's face was still glowing. She lowered her head. "Genhai? You're home early today?"
"Yeah, the afternoon mission was cancelled," Genhai scratched his head, looking at his mother. "Mom, why is your face so red? Are you feeling sick?"
"N-No," Reimei stammered, but she managed a gentle smile. "Your Boss has helped us so much, I was just happy to see him."
Genhai, still ignorant of the ways of the world, nodded in understanding.
Saiki chatted with Genhai for about thirty minutes. Under Saiki's secret influence, this boy had been promoted to Special Jonin and had a stable job in the patrol force.
When Saiki left, Genhai looked at his radiant mother. "Mom, why is it that every time Boss visits, you seem so energetic?"
Reimei's heart skipped a beat, but her face remained gentle. "Lord Saiki is so good to us, of course I'm happy."
Genhai shrugged and didn't ask further.
Reimei let out a secret breath of relief.
Walking down the street, Saiki hummed a tune.
Reimei's voluptuous, mature figure was still dancing in his mind.
A widow for ten years—she was so "juicy" she practically overflowed.
After the world settled, he occasionally visited Genhai's home. After a few times, he and Reimei had developed this relationship under a mutual, unspoken understanding.
She had raised her child alone and had lived a hard life. Saiki had cleared some of her troubles and promoted her son; she didn't know how to repay the debt, so she chose the most primitive way.
Saiki certainly didn't mind. Reimei was tender, and her mix of shyness and proactivity in bed provided a unique flavor.
The Uchiha Estate: Mikoto's Bloom
The days flowed calmly.
A few evenings later, Saiki was at the Uchiha Clan Head's residence.
This wasn't the first time Fugaku Uchiha had invited him.
Since Saiki ended the Third Great Ninja War, his status in Konoha had skyrocketed. Every faction wanted a piece of him.
The Uchiha were especially proactive—their relationship with the village was delicate, and having Saiki as an ally was vital for their future.
During the banquet, Fugaku kept raising his glass, constantly ordering his wife, Mikoto, to pour wine for Saiki.
Mikoto Uchiha—Itachi's mother, a graceful and beautiful woman.
She wore a traditional dark kimono that made her skin look as white as snow. Her black hair was tied in a dignified bun.
Every time she leaned over to pour, her collar would slip slightly, revealing her delicate collarbone and a glimpse of soft, pale flesh.
Her fingers were long and slender. It was inevitable that she would touch Saiki's hand while pouring.
With every touch, she would flinch like a startled deer, her cheeks tinged with red.
Fugaku drank until he was "very drunk"—at least on the surface.
His speech became slurred, his eyes glazed, and finally, he slumped over the table, let out a light snore.
"It seems Clan Head Fugaku is drunk," Saiki set down his cup and looked at the kneeling Mikoto. "I'll help him to his room. Where is it?"
Mikoto shivered. "N-No need to trouble Lord Saiki, I can..."
"Don't be polite." Saiki stood up and hoisted Fugaku like a sack of rice. "Lead the way, Madam."
Fugaku wasn't actually drunk.
All three of them knew this.
This situation had happened several times before.
Mikoto bit her lower lip and rose, her voice trembling. "P-Please... follow me."
She led the way, the hem of her kimono swaying with her steps, outlining the curves of her plump buttocks.
Saiki followed with the "unconscious" Fugaku, his eyes lingering on her alluring silhouette.
After laying Fugaku on his tatami and covering him with a blanket, Saiki stepped back out. He didn't linger.
Mikoto let out a breath of relief, yet felt a strange sense of... emptiness?
They returned to the living room.
"Thank you, Lord Saiki," Mikoto bowed deeply. "Fugaku's behavior was quite rude."
Saiki looked at the graceful woman.
She was around the same age as Kushina but radiated a completely different aura. Kushina was fiery and vibrant; Mikoto was dignified and virtuous. That unique "Housewife" charm was a lethal attraction for men.
"Madam Mikoto," Saiki said slowly. "If your gratitude is only verbal, isn't it a bit insincere?"
Mikoto went rigid. She looked up at him, panic in her eyes. "Lord Saiki... I... I don't know how to repay you..."
Saiki stepped forward, closing the distance instantly, and pulled her into his chest.
"Ah!" Mikoto gasped, her hands pressing against his chest to push him away. "Lord Saiki, please... don't..."
Saiki held her tight, inhaling the fragrance of her hair—a mix of sandalwood and feminine scent, elegant and intoxicating.
"Mikoto, why lie to yourself?" he whispered into her ear, his hot breath hitting her sensitive skin. "How many times have I been to your house? The first few times, the excuse was for me to take Itachi as my disciple. But lately, every time I come, Fugaku 'just happens' to get drunk and sends Itachi to Shisui's house... Do you really not understand what this means?"
Mikoto's body began to shake violently.
She understood perfectly.
Ever since her husband was injured during the conflict with the Mist and lost his male potency, his attitude toward her had changed.
He wasn't abusive, but the cold distance was palpable.
And lately, his blatant hints during these banquets... she would have to be an idiot not to understand.
"I..." Mikoto sobbed. "Please let me go... if someone sees..."
"No one is here," Saiki said, his hand sliding down to her waist, feeling her softness through the silk. "Fugaku is 'passed out,' Itachi is away... who will see?"
"No..." Mikoto tried to struggle, but Saiki leaned down and captured her lips.
"Mngh...!" Her eyes went wide, her body turning to stone.
A man's scent overwhelmed her—dominant and forceful.
She wanted to bite him, but she didn't dare—not just because of his status, but because of a hidden, dark sense of resignation she refused to admit.
The kiss lasted a long time.
Saiki's tongue pried her teeth apart, exploring her sweetness.
Mikoto went from rigid to soft, and eventually, she began to clumsily respond.
When Saiki finally released her, her lips were swollen and two tracks of tears ran down her face.
"Madam," Saiki said, his voice tender but unyielding. "You should just submit. For Itachi, for the Uchiha... right?"
Mikoto remained silent, her tears flowing harder.
"This was your husband's choice, after all."
That sentence finally shattered her last shred of reservation.
Yes... this was Fugaku's choice. For the sake of the clan's standing in the village, he had chosen this path.
And she... what could she do?
Looking at the pitiful beauty in his arms, Saiki kissed her again.
This time, Mikoto didn't fight.
She closed her eyes, letting him kiss her, letting his hands roam over her body.
Saiki was an expert.
Under his skilled touch, even if Mikoto's mind was unwilling, her body betrayed her.
The sash of her kimono was undone, the collar falling open to reveal her pale skin and simple undergarments.
Mikoto was laid gently on the tatami. Saiki pinned her down, his kisses moving from her lips to her forehead, eyes, ears, and neck.
"Mm..." Mikoto moaned softly, her body quivering.
Saiki's fingers mapped out every dimension of her body.
Truth be told, having given birth, Mikoto was meatier and more voluptuous than Kushina. The softness and elasticity of her mature frame were intoxicating.
Snap. Saiki snapped his fingers.
The kimono and undergarments on Mikoto's body disintegrated into shreds. A perfect, mature body was revealed—skin as white as snow, full and upright breasts, a narrow waist, a flat stomach, and a lush, black forest.
"Ah!" Mikoto shrieked, frantically trying to cover herself.
Saiki caught both her wrists in one hand, pinning them over her head.
Completely exposed, Mikoto turned a deep shade of red, more tears spilling over.
"Madam, you're already here, why hide?" Saiki chuckled, leaning down to feast on her breasts, his tongue swirling around the tips.
"No... please..." she pleaded, but her body responded honestly; the tips became hard and erect.
Saiki's hand moved down, passing her stomach to enter the dark forest.
"Ah! Not there... no..." Mikoto clamped her thighs shut, but Saiki used his Hana Hana no Mi ability to sprout two more hands, which forcibly pried her legs apart.
"Madam," Saiki lifted his hand, his fingers glistening with moisture. He waved them before her eyes. "Look, you're already this wet, and you still say you don't want it?"
Looking at the glistening fluid, Mikoto wanted to die of shame.
She closed her eyes and stopped struggling, appearing to give up all resistance.
Saiki smiled and began to undress.
Her eyes were shut, but her ears worked fine.
Mikoto heard the rustle of clothes hitting the floor. She felt the hot body press against her again. She felt the scorching, rigid weight pressing against her most sacred place.
When he began to probe the entrance, Mikoto couldn't pretend anymore.
"No... I beg of you... don't go in..." she sobbed. "I... I can use my hands... or my mouth..."
"Oh?" Saiki arched an eyebrow. "I didn't think the dignified Madam knew such things."
Before she could answer, he drove his hips home—
"AAAAAAAAAAAGH—!!!" The tearing pain mixed with a soul-crushing sense of fulfillment made Mikoto let out a piercing scream.
Simultaneously, Saiki let out a satisfied sigh. The tightness was immense—she felt like a virgin, yet possessed the softness and depth of a mature woman.
"Let me go..." Mikoto wept, but after Saiki dispelled his extra hands, she simply lay there, limp and unmoving.
Perhaps she really had given up.
Saiki leaned down, embracing her voluptuous, soft frame as he began to move.
At first, it was just exploratory plowing. But as Mikoto's body adapted, his assault became more ferocious, his power increasing with every thrust.
The rhythmic clap-clap sounds filled the quiet room.
"Ah... mmm... no..." Mikoto's mouth denied him, but her body met him with every move.
The squelching sounds of the "muddy" interior were the best evidence.
The harder Saiki thrust, the louder Mikoto's moans became.
Finally, after a deep, soul-searching exploration, her body seized violently. She let out a high-pitched scream as she hit the peak.
Saiki didn't stop; he redoubled his efforts.
Under the relentless stimulation, Mikoto lost her mind. Her long, fleshy legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her hands locking behind his neck as her hips frantically met every impact.
"Ah! Ah! Too... slow down... I beg you... ah—!"
Her cries grew louder, her concern for the thin walls long forgotten.
In the next room, the "drunk" Fugaku Uchiha lay with his eyes wide open, listening to the high-pitched sounds of his wife's ecstasy.
Did his heart ache?
Of course.
But mostly... he felt a twisted sense of excitement.
Did he love Mikoto? Yes. But as a man who had lost his potency, he could no longer give her happiness.
This act of "self-cuckoldry" was the only compensation he could give her—and a sacrifice for the sake of the Uchiha clan.
As Mikoto reached her summit again, her voice nearly shredding, Saiki let out a roar, sowing his scorching seeds deep into the fertile soil of her womb.
"Ha... ha..."
They panted in each other's arms.
After a long silence, Saiki whispered into her ear, "Mikoto, your color is so light, and you're as tight as a girl... it seems Fugaku has neglected you for a long time."
Mikoto opened her eyes, her gaze cold. "Are you finished? Can you get off me now?"
Saiki chuckled. Instead of moving, he began to move his hips slowly again. "Don't be so cold. You just accepted me, didn't you? If you really wanted to resist, with your strength, you would have had a chance."
He paused. "People call me a bastard, but I don't force women. If you truly didn't want this, you could have refused from the start."
Mikoto was speechless.
He was right. If she had truly been unwilling, she could have fought back.
As a Jonin, even if she couldn't beat him, she could have made enough noise to wake the house.
But she hadn't.
Was it because of her husband's hints?
Was it for the clan?
Or was it because of the bone-deep loneliness she had felt for so long?
Saiki kissed her again, his pace accelerating.
This time, Mikoto offered no resistance.
The afterglow of her peak hadn't faded, leaving her body hyper-sensitive. She was quickly consumed by his assault once more.
The night was a long, absurd display of passion.
The Morning After
The next morning.
Saiki walked out of the Uchiha estate, bumping into Itachi Uchiha at the gate.
The boy looked surprised. "Teacher? Did you sleep at my house last night?"
"Mm," Saiki said, unfazed. "I talked with your father until it was too late, so I stayed over."
"Oh..." Itachi nodded, suspecting nothing. "By the way, Teacher, do you have time today? I have some questions about Ninjutsu."
"This afternoon. Meet me at the training grounds."
"Yes!" Itachi chirped happily and headed inside.
In the living room, Fugaku Uchiha was preparing breakfast—a rare sight for him.
"Father, where is Mother?" Itachi asked.
"She's tired and still resting," Fugaku's voice was a flat monotone. "Wash up. Breakfast is almost ready."
"Oh." Itachi obeyed and headed upstairs.
As he passed the master bedroom, he heard the faint sound of his mother snoring.
The usually dignified Mikoto was snoring from exhaustion. He thought about knocking to check on her, but decided to let her sleep.
That afternoon, at the training grounds.
Saiki arrived as promised and began instructing Itachi in several high-level Fire Style techniques.
Shisui Uchiha was there as well, watching from the side.
To be honest, Saiki didn't like Shisui much—the boy was too idealistic, bordering on naive and foolish.
But for Itachi's sake, he gave the boy a few pointers.
The training lasted until sunset.
Afterward, Saiki patted Itachi's shoulder. "Not bad. You've improved. Keep it up."
"Thank you, Teacher!" Itachi bowed respectfully.
Saiki waved a hand and turned to leave.