Disclaimer: This is a test, this is only a test. You can stand single file, put your head between your legs. You can stop drop and roll 'cause this is only a test... duh.
The Boudoir Babe.
Enjoy, mon petit chou chou...
Sakura woke up one Sunday morning with a grunt and a toss of her covers away from her body. She attempted to bury her head in the comforting softness of her 900 thread count Egyptian cotton pillow, but nothing could shake away the noise coming from her apartment door.
"Sakura, open up! I know you're in there, I can practically smell last night's puke coming from your hair!"
Sakura groaned sleepily, until she could take the banging on her door no longer. She was going to open the door, deal with the fucking bitch that was outside and then go back to sleep. She flipped her duvet covers off her, and dragged her hung-over body to the front door. Last night's makeup was smudged everywhere it shouldn't be, such that Sakura had deep panda eyes and foundation in her fringe. Talking of her fringe, her hair was a wild, voluptuous, pink frizz ball hanging just below her shoulders with yawning evidence of just how much Sakura had to drink the night before.
Yes, the night before… the night that she barely remembered…. Except for the neon bright memory of her getting off with, wait… could it be? The night that she had gotten off with one of the hottest bachelors in this part of Konoha, or in fact, any part of Konoha!
'Wow,' Sakura thought, before quietly opening the door, feeling just a little bit more awake from all the reflecting back.
"Finally! You opened your door, you little anti-sociable fuck," Ino accused, as she invited herself into Sakura's apartment.
The crude names, the rude greetings, it could only be – the signs of a great friendship.
"Ew, and you're still in your pajamas, Sak."
Yep, definitely a really great friendship.
Sakura was dressed in her favorite pajama set – a loving Topshop brown crop top paired with matching short shorts and white knee high socks with pink hearts printed on them.
Sakura groaned loudly, before seating herself by the open plan kitchen island. She twirled on her stool, accompanying her bottom on the cotton, before she finally asked, "What time is it, Ino?" dreading the answer.
"Why, Sakura, it's time for you to get up and get ready because we have a shopping appointment booked for today, just you and me, sunshine," Ino stated, fake enthusiasm dripping from every syllable. "But if you really want to know the real time, it's 9:45," she added, happily.
"9:45 and you want to go shopping? You freak. I've barely scraped 3 hours of sleep, Ino. Please just let me sleep some more and I'll buy you a large caramel macchiato the next time we go Starbucks," she begged desperately, burying her head in the folded nest of her arms.
"No can do, Sak. You're helping me find what dress I'm wearing to my Aunt's wedding tomorrow, remember? But I'll take up that Starbucks offer now, if you really insist."
"Urg, whatever!" Sakura cried in defeat as she got up from the stool and stalked moodily towards her bathroom. "But don't complain when I take my dear sweet time showering and applying my makeup."
"Yeah, yeah, just get your big ass in there, will you?" Ino replied, rolling her eyes and ushering Sakura to move faster.
"I feel like part of the living dead!" Sakura cried as she hit her head on the Starbucks table a few times, trying, in vain, to rid herself of the banging headache that was attacking mercilessly on her skull. She rested her head on her cupped hands, which were hugging her cup of coffee lovingly. Her Chanel sunglasses covered the bags beneath her eyes, but it didn't hide the fatigue in her posture, as she slumped lazily in her chair. They had been shopping the whole morning, and now, several bags with designer labels plastered to them swamped their feet beneath the table. Sakura was all drained.
"Sak, I drank the same amount as you, yet why am I not feeling in the least bit hung-over? In fact, I'm feeling pretty dandy…"
"Well, my verdict is that you've had a serious caffeine overdose, you coffee junkie," Sakura stated, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Actually, I think while you've had too much coffee, I haven't had enough, so I'm going to go buy another, be right back." And Sakura grabbed her Louis Vuitton purse from her oversized bag and headed towards the counter.
"I'd like a grande caffè mocha please," she said monotonously to the Starbucks worker, too busy paying attention to the menu above his head to realize he wasn't just another stranger working in a coffeehouse.
"Would you like another kissing session with that?" the silky, addicting voice replied.
Sakura stilled for a split second, afraid to look down and see who the mysterious stranger was. But in the end, she couldn't disappoint, and took a peek in the corner of her sunglasses.
…And what she found was too good to be true.
"The tall, dark and handsome knight from yesterday," Sakura concluded, unable to help the small smile that crept onto her lips. "You know, you're the only thing I remember from that party. The rest is a bit of a blur…"
"Ditto," he said, turning around and beginning to make her mocha.
Sakura took this time to quickly take her sunglasses off and hang them on her striped tee, whilst smoothing down her leather jacket collar and pulling up her denim boyfriend shorts without him noticing.
"So," said the stranger, "I didn't catch your name last night."
"Sakura, Sakura Haruno," she replied lamely.
"Cute. I'm Sasuke, Sasuke Uchiha," he copied slyly, flashing a dazzling smile at her behind his shoulder.
She blushed, as she bit her tongue down, pretending that she didn't already know the name of the sex god of Konoha.
"So, Sakura," he started, "what do you remember about me from last night?"
"Well," she coyly said, "I remember that you were pretty smashed too. And that your skin tone suits black a lot… And maybe that you're also a really good kisser," she mumbled shyly.
He laughed. Oh god, that laugh. It was so heavenly and divine that it was almost orgasmic.
"I could say the same to you," he said, winking at her with his beautiful onyx orbs. This man could be made out of gold and it still wouldn't compliment him enough.
He bought the cup of steaming mocha to the serving table, as Sakura walked calmly over in her black Docs to meet him there.
She opened her purse slowly, as he kept his eyes on her every action. Pulling out the correct amount of change, she pushed it in his direction, but instead of taking it, he replied in a cool and attractive demeanor, "It's on the house," and enclosed his larger hands around hers to shut her fingers around the unaccepted money.
The feel of his hand on hers made her stomach drop about 50 feet. It was warm and comforting and the perfect size to fit into her dainty ones. She couldn't help but to imagine the way those very hands were made to be wrapped tightly around her waist.
And then she snapped out of her morning reverie.
"Thanks," she modestly replied, taking the cup and bringing it to her lips. She took a moderate sip and tasted heaven. Honestly, she thought that she had finally felt what the Buddha must have felt when he reached nirvana. It was beautiful. The coffee that his hands had made was beautiful. She felt all of him in that singular cup.
She smiled up at him genuinely, through long, luscious lashes. And that's when he felt the exact same experience she was just going through moments ago. They were both wrapped in ecstatic pleasure.
…Until Ino ruined it, and hollered to Sakura to bring her 'skinny ass back to the table immediately'. Obviously, she had not seen the extremely hot looking sex god saying stuff, which was exceptionally akin to flirting, to her best friend.
Sakura seethed inside at the ruined moment, and silently sighed, whilst Sasuke just coughed awkwardly.
"Well, I better get back," mumbled Sakura, displeased at the all-too-sudden parting.
"Wait!" he called heroically (in Sakura's eyes), and she turned around, looking over her shoulder, her hair flipping flawlessly to give her that extra 'goddess' look. "Can I have your number, Sakura?" he asked, almost sheepishly – something not everyone would see on Sasuke's face every day.
And so, they swapped numbers and Sakura went back to her table with her lush mocha, and Sasuke went back to taking orders. But neither could deny that they both had each other constantly on their minds.
'Whoa!' he thought silently, as he ran his muscular hand through his perfect hair. He was so whipped…
Well, don't ask me why i called this 'The Boudoir Babe'... i think i just liked the ring around it.
And wish me a happy birthday whilst you review ;D I'm halfway to 30, oh yeah! I'm kidding, of course. I don't want to be old! D:
Happy Birthday to me,
Happy Birthday to me,
Happy Birthday to meee~~
Happy Birthday to me.