Deep red marks are the only thought that is allowed to drift in and out of Naruto's pleasure drunk brain. He must be leaving 'deep red marks' where his fingers are gripping tightly to Kakashi's pale bare back. Naruto is moaning, loudly, at each slick thrust of Kakashi's cock inside of him and as his own wanton body clutches tightly around the intruding member as if begging it not to leave yet, but if he were to actually coherently form those thoughts right now his mind would never ever recover from the permanent vegetative sex soaked state. His brain, suicidal entity it is, keeps slipping in vivid accounts of each sinfully wonderful thing that happening like 'sweat moisten bodies pressed tightly together as they move lewdly in unison', 'breathy grunts dropping urgently from Kakashi-sensei's mouth right into his freshly bitten saliva glistened ear lobe' or his favorite image not thought 'Kakashi-sensei's long thin strong fingers wrapped snugly around his aching cock roughly moving from base to tip squeezing little droplets of precum out' . He whines like a bitch in heat at his brain's attempts of betrayal and thinks solidly of 'deep red marks'.