The Uchiha house was quiet except for the low hum of cicadas outside the open shōji.
Naruto stood in the genkan, removing his sandals, the Hokage cloak folded over one arm.
Sakura met him at the door in a simple sleeveless yukata the colour of pale spring leaves, hair still damp from an evening bath.
The scent of her shampoo (something floral and clean) hit him harder than it should have any right to.
"Thanks for coming all the way here, Naruto," she said softly, leading him into the living room.
"Sasuke-kun's letters are so short these days… I just needed to hear it from someone who saw him."
They sat on the low couch, knees almost touching.
Naruto told her everything he could: Sasuke was healthy, still travelling the outer territories, still chasing redemption in his own silent way.
But when Sakura asked the question that always broke her voice—"When is he coming home?"—Naruto could only shake his head.
"I don't know, Sakura-chan. He… he said he's not ready yet."
The words hung heavy between them.
Sakura stared at her hands in her lap, fingers twisting the fabric of her yukata.
Naruto watched the tremor in her shoulders and felt something inside him snap.
Without thinking, he reached out and pulled her into his arms.
She came willingly, burying her face against his neck, the way she used to when they were teenagers and the world felt too big.
Only now her body was soft and warm and very much a woman's, and the thin yukata did nothing to hide the fact that she wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"Sakura-chan…" he murmured into her hair.
She tilted her face up.
Their lips met before either of them decided it was a good idea.
The kiss started gentle (apology, comfort, old friendship), but it turned hungry in seconds.
Sakura made a small desperate sound and climbed into his lap, knees bracketing his hips, yukata parting to her waist.
Naruto's hands slid up her bare thighs, thumbs brushing the damp curls between them, and he groaned into her mouth when he found her already soaked.
"Naruto… please," she whispered against his lips. "It's been years. I'm so empty it hurts."
He stood with her still wrapped around him, mouths fused, and carried her the few steps to the couch.
He sat again, this time with her straddling him properly.
The yukata fell off one shoulder; her breast spilled free, nipple hard and begging.
Naruto latched on immediately, sucking hard, teeth grazing, while his fingers found her clit and rubbed tight, merciless circles.
Sakura's head fell back, pink hair cascading down her spine.
She ground against his hand shamelessly, riding his fingers until the first orgasm tore through her with a choked cry.
Her inner walls fluttered, a hot gush of liquid soaking his palm and the front of his pants.
"That's one," he growled against her breast.
He didn't give her time to recover.
He freed himself with one hand (thick, flushed, curving up toward his stomach) and guided her down onto him in one slow, relentless slide.
Sakura's nails dug into his shoulders; her back arched so sharply her breast popped from his mouth with a wet sound.
They moved together in the living room like they were trying to make up for every lonely night in one frantic rhythm.
The couch creaked beneath them.
Sakura rose and fell, taking him to the root again and again, inner muscles rippling each time he bottomed out.
Naruto gripped her ass with both hands, spreading her, helping her slam down harder.
"Two," he rasped as she came again, squirting so hard it splashed his shirt and ran in rivulets down his balls.
"Three," when he flipped her onto her back, hooked her knees over his elbows, and pounded into her until the coffee table skidded across the floor and she soaked the cushions.
They were still clothed from the waist up (his jacket tossed aside, her yukata hanging open), but everything below was a slick, obscene mess when they heard it:
Soft footsteps in the hallway.
Sarada's sleepy voice: "Mama…?"
They froze.
Sakura's eyes went wide with panic, but Naruto was still buried inside her, pulsing, and her body refused to let him go.
She clamped a hand over her own mouth as another small aftershock rippled through her.
Sarada padded into the living room, rubbing her eyes, wearing an oversized T-shirt that reached her knees.
She took in the scene: her mother straddling the Hokage, both flushed and breathing hard, Sakura's yukata barely covering anything, Naruto's pants open, the unmistakable bulge of him still inside her mother, and the dark wet spot spreading across the couch and down Naruto's thighs.
Sarada's gaze lingered on the obvious erection straining against her mother's belly, on the glistening trails on Naruto's skin.
Her cheeks went scarlet, but she said nothing.
Just mumbled, "I… I heard noises. I'm going back to bed," and fled, bare feet pattering quickly away.
The door to her room clicked shut.
The second they heard it, Sakura exhaled shakily.
"Bedroom. Now."
Naruto lifted her without pulling out, her legs locked around his waist, and carried her down the hall.
They stumbled into the master bedroom (Sasuke's side of the bed still perfectly made, untouched for years) and fell across the mattress.
Sakura shoved him onto his back and climbed on top.
She rode him like a woman possessed, hips rolling, grinding her clit against his pubic bone on every downstroke.
Naruto's hands roamed everywhere (kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples, slapping her ass until it glowed pink).
Four and five came almost together; she squirted so violently the second time that it arced over his chest and splattered the headboard.
By the sixth orgasm she was sobbing his name, body shaking, pussy fluttering helplessly around him.
Naruto rolled them over, still inside her, and kissed her tears away.
"You still with me, Sakura-chan?"
She nodded frantically.
"Want you everywhere tonight."
He pulled out slowly (she whimpered at the loss) and flipped her onto her stomach.
Kneeling behind her, he spread her cheeks and licked a long stripe from her dripping pussy to her tight rear entrance.
Sakura gasped, pushing back instinctively.
Naruto reached for the bedside drawer (he knew exactly where Sasuke kept the lube; some secrets you learn on missions) and slicked his fingers generously.
One, then two, scissoring gently until she was rocking back against his hand, begging in broken whispers.
When he finally pressed the head of his cock against that tight ring, Sakura buried her face in the pillow and moaned.
He went slow, letting her adjust inch by inch, until he was fully seated in her ass, balls pressed against her soaked folds.
"Move," she pleaded, voice muffled.
He did.
Long, deep strokes at first, then faster, harder, until the bedframe slammed the wall in a steady rhythm.
Sakura reached beneath herself, fingers rubbing her clit frantically.
Her seventh orgasm hit like a tidal wave; she screamed into the pillow, entire body convulsing, a fresh gush of liquid soaking the sheets beneath them.
Naruto followed moments later, groaning her name as he emptied himself deep inside her ass, pulse after pulse until he was spent.
They collapsed sideways, still joined, breathing ragged.
After a long minute he slipped free; a trickle of cum followed, mixing with everything else on the ruined sheets.
Sakura turned in his arms, pressing her forehead to his.
"Thank you," she whispered, voice raw. "I needed… I needed to feel wanted."
Naruto kissed her softly, tenderly this time.
"You are. Always have been."
They dozed tangled together until the first grey of dawn crept through the curtains.
When Naruto finally dressed, Sakura walked him to the door in nothing but his orange jacket draped over her shoulders.
At the threshold she rose on tiptoe and kissed him once more.
"Tell Sasuke-kun… tell him his bed is cold," she said quietly.
"But tell him I'm still waiting."
Naruto nodded, throat tight, and stepped into the morning light.
Behind him, Sakura closed the door, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor.
Her thighs were sticky, her body deliciously sore, and for the first time in years she didn't feel hollow.
Upstairs, Sarada lay awake in the dark, fingers between her own legs, replaying the wet sounds she'd heard all night and the thick outline of the Hokage's cock she'd glimpsed.
She bit her lip until it bled, hips moving in tiny circles, and came silently with her face buried in her pillow, whispering a name that wasn't her father's.
The Uchiha house settled back into quiet, but nothing would ever be the same again.