Mature themes ahead!
Wanting to remain inconspicuous, you and your companion for the night hunker down at the back of the ballroom. Between the both of you, another bottle of champagne is emptied.
Tipsy, maybe slightly drunk, you laugh and smile at the antics of your cousin and former classmates. Even the usually stoic Uchiha seems to be enjoying the merriment of the guests.
You giggle when Lee pulls the groom in for a slow dance. Sasuke snickers and leans in to tell you that this was a common occurrence in college. His breath against your ear sends goosebumps down your spine.
You notice the way his eyes soften when speaking about the groom. You wish everyone could see this side of him.
You decide being next to him is the best part of this dreadful day.
You're surprised that you don't want this night to end, and the reason is directly tied to him.
When he leans down to ask you if you want to finish another bottle of champagne in his room, you don't hesitate to nod your head in agreement. Despite knowing exactly what that invitation entails.
As soon as you enter his hotel room, he pins you against the wall.
His lips trace your neck and he eases down to nip at your exposed chest.
His moves up to press his mouth against yours and you falter for a second. You've never been kissed. You have no idea what to do, but he helps you, "Open your mouth, Hyuga."
It annoys you that he's still addressing you by your surname, but you follow his instructions.
He slides his tongue against yours. You're frozen, trying to comprehend what to do next. He pulls away from you.
Brows arched, and clearly confused, he traces your lower lip with his index finger. "Is this your first kiss?"
You're twenty-five years old, and the idea of admitting that no one has ever been this close to you leaves you ashamed. So, you try to distract him by pulling him towards you and mashing your mouths together. The move is clumsy and your teeth hit his, but he doesn't seem to mind.
"Feisty," he grins into your mouth.
You mimic what he did with his tongue, and from the way he's gliding his hand toward your bum, you think you're doing a decent enough job. Good enough for him not to raise the question about the level of your romantic experience.
He continues kissing and grinding against you. Heat pools in your stomach, and you're caught off-guard by how much you want his hands and mouth to explore your entire body.
Your wish is partially granted when he pulls you away from the door and towards the bed. He sits on the mattress and lifts you onto his lap. His lips are back on your neck and they quickly travel down to your collarbone.
He tugs on the neckline of your dress. It doesn't budge or give him what he's after. He tries a little harder and the plunge of the center of your gown rips open. The fabric clings like second skin to your body, still hiding what you know he is after. You slide off of his lap to release the zip that ends near your hips.
His eyes are intensely focused on your movements. You tug the lilac fabric down your torso, fully revealing your breasts. You're about to step forward when he instructs, in a low tone, "take it off."
You're not proud of your body, but you've come this far already and there is no turning back.
Your dress pools at the base of your feet. You itch to cover your bountiful chest with your arms, but you resist not wanting to show signs of innocence.
He pulls you back onto his lap. He flicks your right nipple with his tongue, then sucks and pulls on it lightly with his teeth. He brings a finger to his lips, dousing it with spit, and uses it to trace the other nipple.
Against the decorum that guides your life, you moan wantonly. The feeling is intense, you squirm on his lap and grind into him deeper. A part of you wants to push him away because of this new, overwhelming sensation, but you don't think you'll be able to bear the loss of his touch.
Muffled, because his lips are still encircling your nipples, he tells you, "Your tits are hot."
You think you hear him mutter, "Even sexier than I thought they would be." Has he thought about you this way before tonight?
He guides you onto the bed where you're on your back. He lies next to you and uses an elbow to prop himself up. He pinches your nipple and you groan, both in pain and in pleasure. His lips meet yours again, and his fingers glide over your stomach, down to your lace underwear.
With two fingers, he shifts the lace away and rubs against your most intimate area. Reflexively, you shut your thighs. Mouth molded against yours, he bites your lower lip, and murmurs, "Open up."
You've been obedient your entire life and hated it. A part of you always wanted to rebel. But tonight, you submit wholeheartedly.
You part your legs and shudder into his kiss when he rolls the skin of your labia with his thumb and fingers. When his fingers begin to massage your clit, your legs voluntarily open wider.
His lips are no longer on yours and his eyes are directed towards your feminine region. This should be shameful, but all you can process is the pleasure he's bringing you.
"You're so fucking wet," he muses as he intensifies the pressure on your clit. There is a fluttering feeling in your stomach, and you tilt your hips to press more into his fingers.
He sucks down on your nipple again and this pushes you to your first orgasm.
You moan out his name as your toes dig deep down into the mattress.
As you're coming down from your high, the sight of the bulge in his pants reminds you that his needs are unmet. You don't have any prior practical sexual experience, but you think you have enough theoretical knowledge to pull off what you're about to do.
You shift to your side, and before you reach out to touch him, you don't forget to ask permission, "May I?"
He huffs out a puff of air, "hmn." He sounds amused that you're asking him.
You massage him through his pants. He gets comfortable on his back. You work at removing his belt and unzipping his pants. You tug at the elastic band of his boxers, and he lifts his hips to allow you to pull it down. He kicks it off together with his trousers.
It's the first cock you've ever seen, and while there is nothing to compare it to, you believe he's well endowed.
From your literary learnings, you know the importance of moisture or lubrication. You use his precum to coat the entire shaft. Feigning confidence, you begin stroking him.
When you notice him grimacing, you immediately stop.
Sitting up on propped elbows, he asks, "Have you done this bef – "
You have no intention of letting him finish that sentence. You catch him off-guard by getting on your knees and leaning forward to capture his dick in your mouth. You don't get very far, just the tip is in your mouth and your eyes are already watering.
But this successfully shuts him up. He lays back down flat onto the bed.
You shift in-between his legs with your knees and shins against the mattress, and your hands on either side of his body.
You try to recall the smutty stories you've read to help ease you through this. Your tongue glides from the tip to the base in an attempt to provide a comfortable amount of lubrication. You move to lick another part of his dick, when he sits up and pulls your hair in a halting motion.
"Spit on it."
"Wh-what," you sputter, thinking you've heard incorrectly. Spitting doesn't exactly scream sexy to you.
"You heard me." He holds onto your hair until you've done as is told. Then gently guides you down his shaft.
You remember from your readings to open wide and picker your lips.
He continues to guide you up and down, not pushing too far. He stops, and you understand that this is his way of telling you what he likes.
With each bob, you try to push yourself further down. Your eyes and nose are now leaky faucets, but you don't really care as his low grunts spur you on.
You've managed to reach halfway down his length, when he places the soles of his feet on the bed and pushes all the way down into your mouth.
You can't breathe, and instinctively use your hands to back off.
"I'll be more gentle," he promises and you resume sucking him off.
"Is your pussy as tight as your mouth?" He asks between shallow breaths.
Never in a million years would you believe the next words to leave your mouth, "why don't you find out."
You glance up to find him with a mischievous look on his face, "Yeah?"
You nod your head.
"Come here."
You slip your underwear off, then crawl towards him and sit on his lap. Your drenched pussy rests atop his groin. He sits up so that your breasts are pressed flushed against his chest.
You're here at this momentous occasion. This isn't how you fantasized losing your innocence. You can still back away. You trust that Sasuke is a gentleman and would not hold it against you if you were to leave him now. But you need this to happen. Your only worry is that there will be physical proof of your lack of experience.
You've ridden horses and bicycles, and you hope that one of those experiences may have already disposed of that biological barrier. If you're mistaken, then you're going to have to either apologize to him for omitting this crucial detail or simply avoid/hide from him forever.
You lift your hips up and begin the slow decline onto his length.
You both wince and he hasn't even really entered you.
"Fuck you're tight, Hinata." He's finally calling you by your name. Is this progress or lack of?
You ease down a bit more but can't budge anymore as the pain rushes through your body.
His fingers dig into your thighs, trying to stop you. "Are you a vir-"
You drop down fully onto him. You bend under the sharp pain, falling onto his torso.
"Fuck!" He sounds as if he's in pain, but you feel him twitch inside of you.
You nip his shoulders to numb the pain, then begin to move your hips.
Your core is still on fire and not the comfortable kind. But the more you move up and down, the less you focus on the pain.
You sit up with him sheathed inside you. His hands squeeze your breasts as you slowly bounce up and down.
He slaps your ass at some point, and the infliction causes you to clench down.
"I'm too drunk to last if you keep doing that," he warns.
You slam down harder again and again, clenching each time you go down.
He tries to warn you that he's nearly there, but you're focused on pleasing him that it doesn't register that he hasn't worn protection.
He spills inside you.
Your eyes widen at the possible complications and you quickly slip off of him. You stand near the bedside table and watch in horror as a mixture of his cum and your blood run down your pale thigh.
After a few seconds, he rolls out of bed.
He grabs the sheet from the bed and motions you to come closer.
Softly, he cleans up the viscous fluids before it runs all the way down to the carpet.
Your back is rigid and you feel stupid for not anticipating this outcome. You wish you can dig a hole and bury yourself deep in it. While you didn't lie, you clearly omitted your sexual inexperience. He probably thinks you're pathetic.
You see him grabbing the receiver of the phone and punching in three digits, "I spilled some wine on my sheets. Please send housekeeping up."
He doesn't look at you while he strides to the connecting bathroom. Without glancing back, he tells you, "we have a lot to talk about."
You hurry to re-dress.
You bundle up the sheets hiding your crimson innocence in the middle of the ball. Patiently you wait for housekeeping to come, meanwhile wondering if you should just run away.
Two minutes later, a knock is heard at the door.
You quickly inspect your appearance to make sure you're in a respectable condition. Not fully happy with how you look, but not having any options like a coat (garbage bag – because you feel like a piece of trash) to hide the tear in your dress, you frown but still open the front door to let in the hotel staff.
Your head is bowed as your intention is to keep your identity hidden. Layers of tulle and lace envelop the doorway.
You snap your head up. Green gemstones bore into you.
You wonder why you didn't look through the peep hole. How are you going to explain why you're in his room. Wait! Why was she at his door?
You're both staring at each. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.
"Sakura," Sasuke greets, voice devoid of amiability.
The newcomer pushes her way in, and you step aside to allow her full entry. You grimace when you notice that your companion for the night is only clothed at the waist with a white towel.
"What is she doing here?" Sakura's voice sounds helpless, painful. As if she's been betrayed.
Her question makes you furious.
When she begins moving toward him, you take the opportunity to step out.
"Hyuga," you hear him call out, but you don't stop until you're pushing the elevator button to get you out of this nightmare.
Hopefully that wasn't cringe inducing. I think I am awful at writing explicit scenes, but please let me know what you think.