Sakura didn't really know what was going on.
One minute she was throwing herself at Kakashi, the next she's standing in the shower, letting the surge of hot water wash away her tears. She felt dizzy and confused; struggling to keep her drooping eyes open. She'd heard what Kakashi said, albeit it was hard to focus with his frame on top of hers, but heard him nonetheless. Some part within her told her that she should be ashamed of herself, but in the moment she acted purely on impulse. He had just looked so handsome, and the smoky way he admitted to her that it got him worked up when she bit her lip only furthered her illusion that maybe it was just sex that he wanted. She felt ugly when he first made the move to avoid her; she felt like a worthless fool. It was the same worthlessness she felt at what would be considered the peak of her intimacy with Sasuke. Sakura tried to fight back Sasuke's ugly words whispering within her mind, she tried to kiss them away; only to have her advances dodged. Her last ditch effort to seduce him only made her feel stupid, the way he was holding her away from him would of humiliated her to death had she not been off her ass drunk.
That was, until he spoke.
She didn't have anything to say to him, she didn't know what to say; mainly because her mind was spinning way too fast for her to formulate a sentence. Sakura could only absorb, and hope that she would remember it in the morning. Because, Kakashi was right.
She is ridiculously drunk. She wasn't really present; her level-headedness was miles away.
She told herself that she'd have to thank him in the morning when she was more aware. She told herself that she would really reflect on the things he told her.
Because, if she was being honest, the only thing on her mind right now was the scene of her body grinding into Kakashi's that was on repeat.
Even if the gesture was unwarranted, the feeling along with the image of the way he threw his head back and snapped his eyes shut sent a jounce of electricity straight to her core. Letting her eyes settle, Sakura ran her hands over the tops of her arms, fingers trailing over her collarbone, and following the swell of her breasts; just stopping at the highest peak of her nipples. She rubbed the heels of her hands on the outside of them, moving around the expanse of her chest before grabbing them fully and squeezing them together; the water trickling between the valley of her bosom like a waterfall. Pulling her hands back, she drew the tips of her breasts audaciously. A light, astonished coo slipped its way past the precipice of her lips; a delighted tingle ran down her spine in response to the pain. Sakura mimicked the action with her left hand, her right pressed flat against her stomach guiding its way down to her midmost.
Her middle finger traced her lowest lipline, a mild impromptu that grew violent with need. Her left hand moved to the free breast, repeating the same action while she eagerly sought the tumid nub; massaging tight circles that sent little flames of passion crackling on her sensitive flesh. As her ministrations grew rapid, so did the pleasure boiling deep within her. The impression wound increasingly, a rubber band being wrapped around a balloon so taut it was bound to burst. She tossed her head back, switching breasts again, and shifted to widen her stance so that she had better access. In doing so Sakura slipped, her foot jutting forward that forced her stance to change. Being as drunk as she was, remaining in a still position was a challenge in itself. When her foot slipped forward, Sakura leaned her torso over, quickly lifting her leg up on the edge of the tub with a crude thunk. Once she managed to steady herself, the new position left her more open to her onslaught, her hand rubbing her clit desperately, aching for release. She ground out another groan, her chest heaving with each labored breath she took.
For a brief moment, Sakura thought that maybe she had heard something; however, when she took a chance to dip her fingers deep into her incision with several sloppy thrusts, she forgot about it altogether. She switched services, going from as deep within herself as she could, rolling her hips forward to meet her hand; to paying attention to her clit again. These, paired with her free hand that continued to flop between swollen nipples—sent her over the edge. The balloon popped, erupting fragments of gratification vigorously buffeting out of her fingers and toes. She hadn't realized that she blurted out a haggard yowl; shoulders shuddering with each flutter following after her apex. Her hand came to a slow motion while her other hand still held her bosom tightly.
Opening her bacchant eyes, Sakura caught the unblinking gape of midnight ones.