A Bad Judge of Character

Sakura had never been a good judge of character.

In her youth she had deemed Naruto useless and Sasuke incapable of doing wrong, and time and time again they proved that the notions she'd had were unfounded.

But never had she made a mistake like this, and there was little she could do now that she was naked and bound, trapped on all fours by the wooden restraints of his infernal jutsu.

"Don't look so scared Sakura," he chuckled behind her, his voice rich and low and so sexy that it made her sex throb with the mere sound. "I'm not going to hurt you."

It had all started so innocently. She had been sparing with the man who had served as her temporary sensei, and when the summer sun had become unbearable, they had opted to take a break in the large tree that he easily summoned out of the ground. In its highest branches, was a smooth wooded platform, perfect for reclining, and to her delight, ripe oranges peeked out from dark foliage, providing both a snack and an aromatic delight.

They had talked and laughed, reminiscing about their adventures while Kakashi, her sensei and his sempai, had been recovering in the hospital. However, their playful banter had taken a dangerous turn when he brought up a certain party they had both attended over a year ago.

Being a medic, Sakura should have known first hand the perils of mixing alcohol with the medication she was currently taking to speed the recovery of a recent injury, but the week had been so stressful, she had wanted nothing more than to unwind, drinking glass after glass of sake and forgetting all about the little white pill she had taken a few hours prior.

The alcohol's affects, magnified by her medication, had overwhelmed her quickly, and unfortunately for her, Sakura was an incredibly promiscuous flirt when intoxicated.

She had chatted up many of the male shinobi at the party, but somehow she had wound up locking herself in a bathroom with Yamato who was equally drunk and just as horny. After some giggling, kissing, and light groping, he managed to get her top off before taking a picture and dashing out the door before she could catch him and do serious harm to both the camera and the man. Apparently he still considered her a formidable opponent even when she was drunk.

No amount of threats over the following weeks could convince the ANBU member to hand over the picture which he never clearly admitted or denied developing, but when Yamato never produced a print to wave mockingly in her face, the kunoichi eventually began to doubt he had gotten a clear shot of her breasts at all. She eventually stopped threatening him and over time, forgot all about it…until today.

He had mentioned the party, both of them laughing at their stupidity at getting so horribly drunk, but an uneasiness settled in Sakura's stomach as Yamato was suddenly far closer than she was comfortable with.

"You know," he said softly, nimble fingers expertly peeling the orange in his hand. "I wouldn't mind picking up where we left off in the bathroom."

Sakura stiffened in her cross-legged position, all too aware of the heat radiating off his body.

"I've wanted to kiss you again, wanted to touch you so bad, but I didn't know how to tell you."

The medic turned her own orange in her hands nervously, although she was making little progress peeling it.

"I can't remember the taste of your lips Sakura," he whispered, pressing his side close to hers. "Help me remember."

Too stunned to speak, the kunoichi watched wide eyed as he turned her face to him. He held a slice of orange between his fingers and he leaned in to trace her full lower lip with the sweet fruit before feeding it to her. The act was incredibly sensual, and the blazing intensity of his chocolate eyes made her pulse quicken. The acidic sweetness of the fruit spread over her tongue and she'd hardly had time to swallow the citrus slice before his lips followed, pressing to hers hungrily.

The pleasant sensation of his kiss quickly bled into arousal, and Sakura had to bite back a soft moan as he nibbled her lip playfully.

It felt so good, and it had been some time since Sakura had received any attention of this sort, but she wasn't sure she wanted to get involved with Yamato in such a way. Even after what had happened at that party, they had still remained friends, and she liked it that way. And besides, they were in a public place in an obviously unnatural tree where anyone could find them. She wasn't sure if she wanted Yamato stripping her down in a place where they could be discovered.

"I don't think this is such a great idea," she murmured, pulling away from him.

She couldn't look him in the eye, looking instead at the smooth wooden surface below them. She didn't want him to see that, despite her better judgment, she had liked what he was doing.

"Why?" he asked, pressing even closer, not to be deterred. "Is there someone else?"

Sakura shook her head, making short pink bangs fall into her eyes.

"No, it's just that we're out in the open and—"

Yamato instantly formed a few quick hand seals and suddenly more branches sprouted, making the tree so dense it would be impossible to see them from the outside. In fact, Sakura was doubtful someone would even be able to climb through such thick foliage.

"You were saying?" the taller shinobi smiled, scooting behind Sakura to rub her neck and run his fingers through silky pink strands.

The kunoichi tried to repress a pleasured shiver and ducked away from his hands.

"Yamato…" she began, trying to remember why this was a bad idea.

He sighed when he saw she wouldn't be as easy to convince as he'd hoped.

"I didn't want it to come to this Sakura, but I'm going to have to give you an ultimatum."

She didn't like the dark tone that had crept into his voice, or the way his hand had dipped into his pants pocket, withdrawing something that looked like a…a photograph!

"Either you submit to me, or I'm making a copy of this picture and giving it to everyone you know, and maybe even a few that you don't."

Sakura could only gape at the picture she had doubted even existed. The photograph was wrinkled, as if he had carried it around with him for some time, but the image was still clearly recognizable. There she was, grinning widely, cheeks flushed pink from too much alcohol, and her chest completely exposed. Either it had been cold in the bathroom or she had still been affected by Yamato's recent touches, for her nipples were fully distended, and rosier than usual.

"You bastard!" she cried, trying to snatch the picture away, but he kept it out of her reach, chuckling at her anger.

"So what will it be Sakura?" he asked with a smug smile. "I promise letting me touch you will be more enjoyable than public humiliation."

She couldn't believe Yamato was saying this. She had thought him to be a nice person, someone she trusted. He was a little scary sometimes when he made that serious face, usually illuminated from below with a flashlight or something, but she thought he was just fooling around. She had never guessed that creepy, perverted traits resided in his personality.

"How about I opt for the third option and kick your ass!" she hissed, launching herself at him with the intention of beating him within an inch of death.

He must have suspected her reaction, for he was already in the process of making hand seals. Vines exploded from the floor, snagging Sakura mid-run and pulling her down. They wrapped around her ankles and wrists while more snaked under her clothing and began to tear it away. She was restrained on her hands and knees, unable to move as she was forcibly disrobed.

"Hey!" she shrieked as the sound of tearing cloth filled her ears. She could feel a draft on her skin as her skirt, shorts, red top and bindings were all yanked away. Scraps of tattered clothing fell away until she was left in nothing more than her knee high boots and the red hitai-ate bearing Konoha's symbol.

She struggled, thrashing against her amazingly strong bonds, her mind in a panic. How had she been so wrong about Yamato? Why could she never see people for who they truly were?

"Calm down Sakura, you'll hurt yourself," he crooned as he pulled his own shirt over his head. She looked over his shoulder at him, green eyes wide and full of hurt.

"How could you? I thought we were friends. I trusted you!"

Yamato's smug smile faded as he saw how truly hurt and afraid she was.

"Sakura," he said, kneeling behind her and putting a warm hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly and feeling grateful when she didn't flinch at his touch. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to touch you again. Since that party, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. I know it isn't right, but I can't hold back anymore."

His words sounded gentle and sincere, and his brown eyes seem to plead for her to believe him. He dipped his head and began to press warm kisses along her spine, his tongue occasionally gliding along her skin, making her shiver. It felt so good and Sakura found herself fighting an internal battle. He had just threatened her with blackmail and forcibly stripped and restrained her. Was it horribly wrong to enjoy what he was doing to her now?

"Yamato?" she whimpered when his lips reached the back of her neck, making her skin break out in goose bumps as his breath stirred the short hairs at her nape.

"Shh," he soothed, strong hands coming to slide up and down her sides as he kissed her neck tenderly. "I can make you feel so good Sakura. Please just let me try."

Sakura's better judgment told her to insist that he let her go, but then he wrapped his arms around her middle and pressed his naked chest to her back while nuzzling her jaw, his hot breath washing over her and making her hungry for him. Her body had been denied a man for so long that maybe it was time she let Yamato have his way with her, even though it was under quite unusual circumstances, and she would be lying if she said that being tied up like this didn't turn her on just a little.

"I…ok," she said softly. "Just promise that if I tell you to stop, you will."

"Of course," Yamato agreed quickly. "I don't want to hurt you or scare you. That is not my intention. I'll untie you so we can do this right."

She could feel him pull away in order to dispel the jutsu but she stopped him.

"Leave the restrains," she said, craning her neck to look over her shoulder again. He was gazing at her curiously and she offered him a sheepish smile. "I-I kind of like it like this."

Yamato's mouth curved into a wicked smile.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" he chuckled, leaving forward to kiss her again.

Their meeting of lips was hungrier now and he was more forceful, but the way she had to turn her head hurt her neck and she soon broke the kiss to give her body some relief. Yamato didn't seem to mind, busying his mouth by biting softly at the juncture of her neck and shoulder as his hands began to roam over her naked form, caressing her hips, stomach, breasts, anywhere he could reach.

The warmth that had been pooling low in her belly quickly escalated to a heated throb when he cupped her breasts, molding the supple flesh and tugging at hard nipples gently.

"Ah!" she cried, back arching in pleasure as he nipped at the nape of her neck, showering her back with kisses as he memorized the feeling of her breasts, the way they settled in his palms, their soft texture, the tight little buds capping each rosy peak.

Yamato growled, loving the salty sweet taste of her skin. He worked his way back down her spine, kissing and licking until he reached the curve of her ass.

He couldn't resist releasing the soft globes of her chest to squeeze the firmer globes of her perfect rear.

"So sexy," he murmured, watching his darker hands mold her pale skin.

Sakura moaned softly, starting to feel restless as the heat between her legs burned persistently, making her ache for a greater fulfillment.

It appeared Yamato already had plans to touch her where she needed it, for his right hand strayed from her toned cheek to settle between her legs.

He stroked a single finger over her slit, finding her to already be drenched. The simple touch made Sakura shudder and gasp, fingernails digging into the wood beneath her as heat coursed through her.

Yamato groaned at the exquisite slickness covering his finger, loving the slippery texture, and pushed forward into her, his digit sliding easily into her silky, molten paradise.

"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely, amazed by her heat and incredible tightness as feminine muscles instantly squeezed him tight. "You feel so good."

Sakura moaned wordlessly, pushing back against him to try and drive him in deeper. The rippling of her sex around him produced the most wonderful sensations as her body contracted and released him in continuous pulsations, and she wanted to intensify that pleasure.

He began to slide his finger in and out, watching with lustful fascination as his digit disappeared into her tight hole to emerge slick and soaked with her juices.

The kunoichi was panting hard now, her breath punctuated by heady moans as she felt him sink deep into her core only to retreat. Over and over he filled her, but it wasn't enough, and she looked over her shoulder, finding him fixated on her sex, watching what he was doing to her intently.

"Yamato, more…" she whimpered, her voice breathless and broken.

He shifted his gaze to her, chocolate eyes holding her captive as she felt a second finger sink into her blazing tightness.

The feeling was exquisite and she cried out softly, falling forward to let her cheek rest on the cool wood as he pumped his fingers into her faster, her juices only growing more plentiful as she neared completion.

Finally, he couldn't take it any more, He had to be inside her, had to feel those tight feminine walls around the erection that was straining against his pants.

He withdrew his fingers, marveling at how her sex seemed to suck him back inside, reluctant to let his digits go.

Sakura whined at the loss of sensation, the fire in her core nearly unbearable now that he had left her achingly empty, but when she heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down, she raised her head to find him holding his cock, staring at her with desire burning in his eyes.

He didn't say a word, but maintained eye contact as he guided his length to her pulsating hole, his head bumping against quivering flesh.

And then he was pushing inside, inch by agonizing inch, producing a chorus of moans both masculine and feminine as she enveloped him, as he filled her wholly, pressing in to the hilt.

Sakura's every nerve ending was on fire, white hot as he began to move, rocking his hips against her in a slow, delicious rhythm. She could feel him stretching her, filling her deep with every thrust, and she couldn't help a wanton moan every time he pushed inside. The sacks at his base brushed her clit with every surge forward, making her tremble, and she arched and writhed as much as her restrains allowed, but secretly found pleasure in the fact they kept her in such a compromising position.

Yamato groaned, loving how her tight sex sucked him in deep, massaging his throbbing cock as her walls rippled and contracted, making his head spin at the sensation. He began to move faster, breath coming in harsh pants between the reverent uttering of her name.

Sakura's moans were continuous now, as he moved inside her hard and fast. She could feel the raw power in his body behind her, the control in his muscles like a well oiled machine. His hands came to grip her hips, pulling her back onto his length every time he thrust forward, ensuring he drive into her as deep as he could go.

Sakura clawed at the wooded floor helplessly as she neared her peak, overcome by the waves of pleasure assaulting her senses.

"Yamato, I'm gonna…oh god…ah…ahh!"

She threw her head back, sending a pink strands flying as the pressure that had built in her core exploded outwards. Her moans spiraled into screams as her sex clamped down like a vice, milking Yamato's cock for every drop of his release as she reached her own.

The shinobi's breath left his lungs explosively as she tightened around him. He could only last another couple of thrusts before he succumbed to her incredible liquid heat, erupting inside her and filling her up with the thick, sticky proof of his orgasm.

He collapsed on top of her, his sweaty form draped over her as she was forced to still remain on all fours by the wooden bonds. With the last of his energy, he dispelled the jutsu and they both fell to the floor, trembling in the wake of truly powerful orgasms.

He pulled her close, encircling her in the safety of his embrace and she snuggled against him, seeming to forgive him for blackmailing her and ruining a perfectly good set of clothes.

"You're amazing," he whispered, nuzzling the top of her head with his chin as they both struggle to catch their breath.

She hummed softly as her heart rate gradually returned to normal, wondering why she was feeling so good in the arms of a man who was strangely obsessed with her and wasn't afraid to manipulate her with naked pictures.

For a moment, they said nothing, quiet under the serene leafy canopy above them. Flecks of sunlight filtered through, dancing over their naked bodies and the remains of Sakura's clothes. Yamato's fingers trances random patters over her flat stomach, absently moving lower to play with the trim patch of pink hair at her apex.

Despite the lazy posy coital haze she found herself in, Sakura's sharp mind knew now was the perfect time to grab that picture that had caused all of this.

With a giggle, she rolled him over so he was on his back and she straddling his hips. Before he could even blink she had summoned a clone, and although it was as naked as the original, it scampered off to where his discarded pants laid, extracting the crinkled photograph as the real Sakura pinned Yamato down.

"Hey, don't touch that!" he cried, struggling as he tried to throw the devious kunoichi off of him.

He managed to roll her over onto her back and leapt up to go after the clone, but he was a little too late. The replica was already tearing the provocative picture into small pieces.

Sakura grabbed his foot and dragged him down, and unfortunately he was unprepared. As the clone poofed out of existence, Yamato came down on the wooden floor hard, so hard in fact that he succeeded in knocking himself unconscious.

The medic was immediately at his side, examining him to see the extent of the damage. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the injury was mild and was about to heal him when she had a better idea. With a few hand seals, they were gone, teleported to Sakura's one bedroom apartment where she planned to heal him and have a repeat performance of mind blowing sex. She didn't know why she was suddenly so attracted to this man who was acting so oddly, so dangerously, but she knew that she loved how he had made her feel, how he had tied her up and fucked her senseless.

Yamato had turned out to be far different from the man she thought she had known, but it was turning out that Sakura didn't know herself as well as she had previously thought either.