She tilted her head back against the closet door and reveled in their gentle touches. Half of her clamored for more; the other half cried out against this betrayal of the man she loved. And then she could only wonder if what they were doing constituted infidelity. Again, torn and unsure of herself, she realized that she didn't know. Technically, she supposed, the very act of allowing another man (let alone two) to touch her so adoringly, so intimately, was indeed an act of perfidy. He trusted her to keep her physical wonders locked up tight, revealing them only to Him. But as intimate as it all felt, she was completely clothed save for her shirt, her sports bra showing less skin than a bikini top would.
She decided that the skin wasn't the problem, it was the confoundingly beautiful sensation of their hands and breath ghosting across her skin, making her shiver with the knowledge of what could happen if she let it go that far. They were worshipping her body without having seen it, taking her beauty on faith alone. They were believers in the cult of Her, and no one had ever shown this sort of unabashed yet completely restrained delight in her body before. He obviously loved touching her, running His strong but gentle calloused hands all over her sloping curves, and she adored His touch, but there was none of this electricity at the constant pressure of having to hold back.
Although, she thought, they would not hold back if she did not ask it of them. They would take her wholly, enjoy her in every possible way, get drunk on her amorous moans and soft exhalations and gasps, and they would do everything in their power to give her ecstasy. Their soft ministrations promised that potentiality far more persuasively than their words ever could.
And the worst part was that she desperately wanted to give herself to them.
Despite her love for Him, which had been tested before and proved true, part of her that was swiftly becoming harder and harder to resist told her to surrender her inhibitions to the breathlessness in her chest, the blankness in her head, and the wetness between her legs. That well-intentioned part of her merely sought her physical gratification, a reward for which she was usually willing to wait. Only now, for whatever reason, perhaps the thought that this particular opportunity would never again arise, she could not erase her need.
She unhappily realized that she needed to stop before that other part of her conquered her faithfulness, for if this went any further, she would regret it and curse her fleeting willpower forever after. She felt a mouth lay an open kiss on her abdomen and her eyes widened. "No," she murmured. "I…I can't. No more." They slowly backed off, enough so that she knew they would obey, but not enough for her to stop feeling their warmth. Their eyes, lust-glazed and half-lidded, bore into her and reminded her that they wanted her deeply. Reluctant as they were, they ceased their attentions for the sake of their friendship, which, as they had reminded her earlier, was worth more to them than a one-night threesome. Her mouth twisted in a half-smile, half-grimace as she expressed her gratitude and dismay, and the three gathered together in an affectionate embrace before she tossed on a shirt and they all went to find sustenance.
He would never know how much she had sacrificed this night because of her love for Him. None of them would ever speak of this again. That was how it had to be, for all their sakes.
--------------------------------------------
Crawling into bed later, she imagines what their tripling would have been like: hot, wet tongues circling and flicking her nipples, while two different hands prepared her for penetration; one sliding her own wetness over her clit while the other plunged a finger inside her, tapping a swift tattoo on her secret spot, both working swiftly until she came hard, shuddering out guttural moans and writhing against their warm, lean bodies. Then one would position himself at her entrance while the other would dip his cock into her mouth, and they would fuck her roughly, reminding her with every thrust of her infidelity, but making it so brutally pleasurable that she would have no choice but to lose herself in the harsh rhythm. Her tight channel and warm wet mouth would swiftly bring them both to climax, and they would quiver their release into her. She would, for eroticism's sake, greedily swallow what she had earned, and lap up the rest off of a happy, limp dick, and squeeze her abdominal muscles around the phallus inside her, garnering thoroughly pleasured moans from them both. Then the one between her legs would pull himself out and immediately begin flicking his tongue across her clit while the other would plunder her mouth with his tongue, restraining her hands above her head. She would surrender her body to them, ceasing rational thought and thinking only of how the tongue inside her pussy was lapping up not only her juices but also his own seed, and she would come again as he moaned into her entrance.
They would both be sufficiently recovered – firm and erect once more – from watching her orgasm and they would lay her on her side. One would spread lube all over his hard cock and then slide his lube-slicked fingers into her rear entrance, and the other would press his tip against her soaking pussy. Then they would thrust into her as far as they could go, making her cry out sharply as she experienced being completely filled for the first time. They would smother her body with sloppy kisses as she accustomed herself to sheathing two at once, and then when she was ready they would plunge their cocks into her, a vigorous, rapid rhythm that would make her sob with pleasure and just the right amount of pain. They would increase their tandem pace as they neared completion, and then their rhythms would break as they shoved their cocks as far into her as humanly possible and cry out at the depth of their release and she would clench down as her own climax overtook her, and all three would ride out the full extent of their gratification before flopping into a warm, grinning, tangled heap on the bed.
-------------------------------------------
As Sakura lays back against her pillows, she breathes out slowly in the wake of her self-serviced orgasm. Kakashi will return in a few weeks, and Naruto and Sasuke will be gone tomorrow by noon, never to return. Sakura would leave with them, were it not for Kakashi. She hopes that her secret sacrifice will be paid back somehow. The petite medic knows that part of her will always wish for that experience, just as she knows that it will never occur. Perhaps, she muses, her fantasy is meant to stay just that – a beautiful dream that is all the more precious because it cannot come true.