With the permission given, I didn't rush in to 'check' the state of her underwear. I already knew their state perfectly well.
Not because I was that much in control, oh hell no. Nobody, not even the most disciplined monk or chakra-castrated ascetic, could maintain patience in the face of this unfair temptress. She was just too perfectly crafted to drive men insane.
Instead, I took my time caressing her tender flesh under that dress, my palm mapping every curve and soft rise. Her thighs were thick and wonderfully soft. Thighs and ass of a housewife.
Years of comfortable living rather than constant training. She'd been a kunoichi once, but motherhood and domestic life had given her body a lushness that was infinitely more appealing than any hard-muscled warrior woman.
I traced lazy patterns along her inner thighs, coming tantalizingly close to her panties before pulling away to explore somewhere else entirely. Each near-miss made her breath hitch, her hips shifting restlessly as if trying to guide my touch where she needed it most.
Oh, how naughty of you, Uzumaki-sama, I thought with dark amusement as I felt her muscles tense under my palm.
While my hidden hand tormented her lower half, my other focused on her exposed stomach. Specifically, that cute yet defenseless little navel of hers. I circled it with one fingertip, then pressed gently into the sensitive dip. A sharp gasp escaped her throat as her back arched lightly involuntarily.
That reaction was enough to file that as a sensitive spot, a high one. So I spammed it.
I began to finger that innocent little hollow in ways that would make a whore blush, treating it like I was preparing it for something far more intimate. The symbolism wasn't lost on either of us, I was sure. I was essentially fucking her navel with my finger, and her body was responding like I was touching her most sensitive places.
What kind of perverted biology do Uzumaki women have?
Her breathing became ragged as I continued the assault on her indecent navel, my finger dipping and swirling in that tender depression while my other hand kneaded the soft flesh of her ass and thighs. She was unconsciously grinding against my touch now, her hips moving in small circles that she probably wasn't even aware of.
When the sensations became too much, she grabbed my wrist. Not to stop me, but to anchor herself as her body writhed with building pleasure. Or maybe to keep me exactly where I was, because God forbid I should stop what I was doing to her poor, abused navel.
What a dirty woman she is inside, I thought with satisfaction. All that pride and propriety, and here she is getting off on having her belly button fingered.
Needless to say, I was no longer so bummed out about my defeat last time. I just had to stop seeing her like some holy saintess.
I built her toward orgasm slowly this time, watching the telltale signs mount. The tremor in her thighs, her breathing going shallow and quick, the flush spreading down her chest. This was going to be the strongest yet, I could tell from the way her entire body was coiling like a spring.
And of course, I wasn't that charitable. Beside
Just as air stuck in her throat and her muscles began to contract in preparation for release, I stopped completely, slicing her mounting pleasure to an abrupt halt.
A naughty woman has to earn her release first.
Kushina held her breath through clenched teeth for a long moment, every muscle tightened, as though she was trying to push herself past the edge with just that. She wasn't that successful. The redhead milf exhaled hard, her chest rising and falling dramatically.
Fuck, I wanted to grab those breasts and see how they felt. I didn't, though. Instead, I stayed perfectly still with one hand resting on her exposed stomach while the other remained hidden under her dress, making just enough soothing motions against her ass to keep her hanging on the edge without tipping her over.
She swallowed hard, the sound audible in the quiet room. After what felt like an eternity, she asked in a strained voice, "Are they... are they ready now?"
I could hear the shame and desperation she was trying to hide, the way she struggled just to ask the question without admitting what she really wanted.
I licked my lips, sensing victory within reach. "No," I told her simply. "They're not."
She clicked her tongue in frustration and huffed. "You didn't even check properly! Stop messing around and just—"
"If you insist," I said with the same mocking tone I'd used when she'd invited me into her home earlier.
But unlike her earlier explosive reaction, all she did was work her jaw silently, lips sealed and trembling with suppressed emotion.
It was stupid and shortsighted, picking at her pride like that. In retrospect, I did that a lot with fiery women. I didn't know why….no, that would be a lie. I knew exactly why.
It was about taming the storm. Much like with Sakura, though, it didn't feel right to compare them — they were leagues apart in every way that mattered. But the principle was the same: I didn't want Kushina to yield to me gracefully. I didn't want her to offer me control like some demure little flower. I love that, sure, but I didn't expect them to.
I wanted to take that control from her. I wanted to break through her pride like a battering ram through castle walls, not wait for her to lower the drawbridge voluntarily. There was something intoxicating about watching her defenses crumble under pressure, about seeing the exact moment when her legendary willpower finally snapped.
The truth was, I enjoyed the conquest more than the surrender. I wanted to see her fight me every step of the way, then watch as her body betrayed her resolve. It was probably twisted as hell, but I'd never claimed to be a good person.
I slowly placed one finger between her thighs, letting it rest against the fabric of her panties. She jolted at the contact, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips.
They were wet. I'd expected that much, but they were so thoroughly soaked that it still surprised me. The fabric was practically transparent with moisture, clinging to her like a second skin, and my finger came away sticky and glistening.
I pulled my hand back without really touching anything substantial, and her hips followed the motion minutely, as if magnetized to my touch.
"Not yet ready," I announced with a slight smile.
"Are you... are you sure?" she asked breathlessly, then hurriedly added, "Maybe you should check again. Be thorough." There was a pause, and she squeezed my arm where it rested on her stomach, as if willing me to move and do something. "I mean... for accuracy. To not waste time."
Not waste time. Right. The excuse was so flimsy it was almost insulting to both our intelligence.
"Hmm," I said thoughtfully, as if considering a complex problem. "It seems this isn't as easy as I thought."
"Of—of course not!" Kushina said, trying to inject some indignation back into her voice. "Who do you take me for? I'm not some... some crazy woman who would just get aroused from a simple stomach massage. That's ridiculous!"
Oh, the irony, I thought with amusement. Here she is, literally exposed on her couch with my hand up her dress, trying to reclaim some shred of modesty while begging me to touch her more thoroughly. The woman who's offering me access to her most intimate places is lecturing me about propriety.
"Of course," I agreed solemnly. "I should have thought better. You're far too modest and demure and appropriate for such base reactions." The compliment was perfectly crafted to sound sincere, while anyone looking at her current position would see it for the mockery it was.
She glared at me, pride and lust warring in her violet eyes like opposing armies on a battlefield. I smiled and held her gaze steadily.
Yeah, her glares really did make me hard.
I could see the conflict raging inside her as clearly as if I were watching an actual war. Pride had held the high ground for years, fortified behind walls of duty and propriety and maternal respectability. But lust was laying siege now, and every touch, every tease, every moment of denial was like another catapult stone thrown against those crumbling defenses.
Pride rallied its forces, trying to mount a counterattack, hence the glare, the attempt to reclaim some dignity through words. But lust was patient and relentless, wearing down her resistance through sheer attrition.
When I lightly pinched her inner thigh under her dress, it was like the final cavalry charge that broke the enemy lines. I watched the exact moment when lust conquered pride, when her eyes went from defiant to reluctant, when the last of her resistance retreated.
For a heartbeat, she held the line — chin lifted, eyes narrowed, every inch of her screaming no. But the tremor in her breath gave her away. Desire surged through the cracks like fire through dry grass. It didn't fight fair; it never did.
And then she looked away. Not sharply, not with her usual bite. Her gaze drifted off, heavy, as if even the act of holding it had become too much work. The fight didn't vanish; it just sank somewhere lower, somewhere quieter.
Her throat moved like she was swallowing words she didn't want me to hear. The corner of her mouth trembled. Not fear, not shame, just the weight of realizing she'd lost ground and couldn't pretend otherwise. The pride still smoldering, the want flickering through it, and the silence between them thick enough to taste.
I breathed hard, fighting my own war for control. It wasn't easy, but unlike her, I'd had a full day and most of the night of sex with Shiho, so I had at least some small advantage in the self-control department.
Though not by much. I wanted nothing than to turn her around, lift her dress, and push so deep into her married Uzumaki cunt till it breaks into the Nine-Tails prison.
I swallowed and forced myself to speak before I acted purely on instinct. "If I use iryonin, it should help stimulate the proper... circulation... for this kind of treatment."
Not sure if treatment was the right word, but…. Fuck, I should have used Devil's Whisper for that line. This woman was really making me lose my mind.
"You… know medical jutsu as well?" she asked, half-surprise coloring her voice.
Mmh. I liked that reaction. Impressing a woman like Kushina couldn't be easy, given her heritage and prodigy husband. I wouldn't say I'd impressed her exactly, but that surprise was definitely encouraging.
I smiled and pulled the humble card. "A little bit."
She hummed thoughtfully, then said softly, almost hesitatingly, "I don't know if using something as... reputable... as medical ninjutsu is appropriate for this." Her ears were flushed pink as she spoke.
"For this?" I said with a suggestive smile. "But it's just a stomach massage, isn't it?"
Kushina swallowed, her throat working visibly. "Of course," she said, trying to sound offended at the suggestion of it being anything else, but failing completely. "It's just a stomach massage, so... it would be fine."
"It will be fine," I echoed, but this time I let the Devil's Whisper weave in and slip into her edged in pleasure brain, to soothe her and lull her inhibitions.
She relaxed further at the sound, her raised knees parting slightly, her breathing evening out as the supernatural persuasion took hold.
That was it — time to take the plunge.
I reluctantly and painfully removed my hand from under her dress, but not before giving her thick thigh one final squeeze. She jerked in response, a small, annoyed sound escaping her throat.
I needed both hands for this technique. I was proficient enough in medical ninjutsu to activate it without hand signs normally, but I wasn't in good condition. The previous session with Shiho and my current lust-addled state meant I'd need the hand signs to focus properly. I'd also need both hands to show the chakra matrix and make this look convincing.
— — — — — — — —
KUSHINA UZUMAKI
Kushina lay there, trapped between fury and need, her body humming with frustrated desire from his relentless teasing. Each time he'd brought her to the edge only to pull away, she'd wanted to grab him by the throat and demand he finish what he'd started. But something held her back.
Fool woman, she scolded herself. You should have thrown him out the moment he suggested this ridiculous charade.
But she hadn't. And now her panties were absolutely soaked. She could feel the wetness clinging to her, could smell her own arousal in the air between them. When he'd claimed they weren't "ready" yet, she'd known he was lying. The bastard was playing with her!
She should have called him out on it. Should have demanded he stop this game and throw him out of her home. She still could, but…. the words stuck in her throat, weighed down by shame and the terrible truth that she didn't want him to stop.
The Hungry Whirlpool stirred restlessly in her belly, that ravenous thing that had been starved for nearly two decades. It whispered seductive lies about what she deserved, about how long it had been, about how good his hands felt on her skin. She tried to silence it, tried to focus on her duties as a wife and mother, but it only grew stronger with each touch.
"Here we go," he said, forming the concentration hand sign.
Kushina just hummed and braced herself for whatever was coming next. Using such a respected technique for... this. She wanted to protest more, but she really didn't have any words, her brain seemed to forget how to form sentences. Her thoughts were all jumbled up.
Oh, kami.
The sensation was unlike anything she'd experienced. His chakra flowed through her skin like liquid fire, awakening nerve endings she didn't know she had. It was a medical technique twisted into something definitely not medical, and it felt better than anything had since that shameful day when she'd fallen to her flesh's weakness.
No! Don't…. don't think about that day, she commanded herself, but the memory surfaced anyway. He held her hips tightly and harshly.... she could remember the sound the kitchen table made as he thrust again and again into her from behind. From behind! Like she was some— Minato had never…. but this man, he'd made her feel alive in ways she'd thought were lost forever, the way her body had betrayed every principle she held dear. The shame of it still burned, but so did the treacherous memory of pleasure.
Not again….
The chakra massage built her arousal a hundred times faster than his normal touch. Within moments, she was gasping, her back arching as sensation flooded through her. Her orgasm approached like a tidal wave, inevitable and overwhelming, and she braced herself for the release that would finally end this torment.
He stopped. It took her a moment to realize, but… No!
Rage flared through her, so sharp and sudden she nearly bit through her own tongue. How dare he? How dare he bring her so close and then leave her hanging like some puppet dancing to his whims?
"You—" she started, then bit back the words. Her pride wouldn't let her beg, even though the Whirlpool was roaring for satisfaction.
"Something wrong?" he asked with that infuriating smile.
"Nothing," she managed through gritted teeth. Nothing except you're driving me out of my mind, you infuriating little—
But she couldn't say that. Couldn't acknowledge what this really was. So she lay there, trembling with need and fury, while he pretended this was all perfectly innocent.
He started again, and this time she tried to prepare herself. But the chakra-enhanced touch was too much, too intense. He was good, she would give him. Kami, he was the best. He had unfair magic hands, and even without chakra, he had made her reach the stars.
It was no wonder then, within seconds, she was climbing toward that peak again, her womb clenching with anticipation.
He stopped again.
This time, she couldn't stop the sound of frustration that escaped her throat. Her hands fisted in the couch cushions as she fought the urge to grab him and force him to continue.
"Problem?" he asked, and she could hear the mockery in his voice. He was growing cockier by the second!
"Just... concentrate on what you're doing," she said tightly, not trusting herself to say more.
If he stops again, I'll kill him, she thought as he began the third time. I'll actually murder him with my bare hands.
But even as the thought formed, she knew it was a lie. She was too far gone now, too desperate for release to do anything that might make him stop permanently. The Whirlpool had taken control, drowning out everything else with its desperate hunger.
His chakra flooded through her again, and she was climbing faster than ever, her body coiling tight as a spring. This had to be it. This time, he would let her—
A jolt ran through her belly, different from the building pleasure. The seal. Her eyes flew open in alarm as she felt the familiar sensation of the Eight Trigrams Seal zip in from her belly and to her spine. Kushina realized, to her shame, that had been enough for a damp spark of heat had slipped between her thighs despite his hands stopping.
"Was this the—" he started.
"Ignore it!" she said quickly, embarrassment flooding through her. The seal responding to her arousal was mortifying beyond words. "Just... continue what you were doing."
He blinked at her, then had the audacity to smirk. "Continue what, exactly?"
The fucking— She wanted to hit him. To strangle him. To throw him through the window, better yet, through the wall. She wanted to scream at him to stop playing games. But the words that came out were, "Don't you dare stop."
The raw need in her voice should have shamed her, but she was beyond caring about dignity now. The Whirlpool had won, and all she could think about was the ache between her legs and the terrible certainty that only he could ease it.
"Yes, ma'am," he said in that soothing voice that made her want to both trust him completely and strangle him simultaneously.
When he told her to lie back down, she obeyed without question, her body moving before her mind could protest. His burning hands returned to her skin, chakra flowing through her like heated honey, and she surrendered completely to the sensation.
This time, she didn't even pretend it was about anything other than pleasure.
— — — — — — — — — —
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