Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, only my story.
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A touch of a hand a flick of a wrist and shes straddled in his lap like a needle to a junkie. He is pleasure and pain topped with whipped cream. Tomorrow--she thinks--tomorrow I will end this tomorrow.
He whispers--Did you lock the door?-- she nods, because if she speaks the spell will be broken and she will have to start over on her high again, see he is pleasure and pain topped with whipped cream and a cherry.
One hook, two hooks --pause--and a sigh escapes her lips, shes getting impatient. Why must he tease her? Doesn't he understand that seeing her in this vulnerable state is aslip-up? He should be grateful! Because, tomorrow--she thinks-- tomorrow I will end this tomorrow.
She digs her calloused fingers into his sculptured chest (you see, a true kunoichi does not have the privilege of a pampered life) as a signal to COME ON with it. She knows this is unlike her and definitely not very lady-like but desperate times call for desperate measures. As mentioned before, he is pleasure and pain topped with whipped cream and a cherry drizzled in dark chocolate because he is never sweet but bittersweet.
She's not sure if its lust, passion, or just pure sex that's thickening the air and making her pant because she stopped breathing a long time ago. Actually, the familiar sound of wood meeting wall at a steady, hard, deep, creaking rate was the moment her calm, cool, and collective breaths turned into rapid, lung-suffocating pants all fueled by this man who is now behind her, knocking and knocking and knockingeach picture frame off her wall, one by one shatter.shatter.shatter. But who cares? Right now she's getting her fix, high, ecstasy, whatever term one think is best fit for this situation. She's never been good with words, but no matter, because--Tomorrow--she thinks--tomorrow I will end this--tomorrow.
Jerk…Clench…Quiver... and her monumental high rolls into a serene low, but never a disappointing low; more like a satisfying, placid but, throbbing low. Hmm… like a tranquilizer. Scratch that, more like a senbon coated in a sedative. Yeah, that sounds about right. Cause' he IS pleasure and pain topped with whipped cream and a cherry, drizzled in dark chocolate because he's never sweet but, bittersweet, on a perfect day in a glorious month. But tomorrow--she thinks with droopy eyes--tomorrow I will end this--tomorrow.
Her now closed eyes twitch when she hears a shift in her bed and she rolls over on her side when she feels his chakra exit through her open window. Although his chakra is gone, his presence will linger till the next day. So will his kisses on her neck, the teeth marks on her nipples and, the hickies on her inner thigh.
But no worries, because tomorrow--she thinks--who really cares about tomorrow……………….