Sakura yanked herself back violently, coughing and sputtering, spit flying from her lips as she gagged on the intrusion. Her green eyes were watering, her face flushed a deep, mortified red.
"W-what the hell, Mom?!" she choked out, her voice raw and shaking. "You can't just—I wasn't ready! You said you'd help, not—not shove me onto—"
She couldn't even finish the sentence. Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to contain the mess of saliva dripping down her chin.
Mebuki waved her off dismissively, as Sakura had just complained about the weather.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Sakura," she said, her tone light and patronizing. "You were hesitating. I simply gave you the push you needed. Besides, you handled it better than I expected. Your gag reflex isn't nearly as sensitive as I thought it would be."
I would take credit for that. I was the one who finger trained her throat after all.
"That's not… " Sakura stared at her, her eyes blinked as if she just remembered something, but then she shook her head. "Mom, I couldn't breathe!"
"Then you should practice controlling your breathing or whatever those regid kunoichi do these days," Mebuki replied coolly, smoothing her hair back. "Or were all those Academy exercises just for show?"
The jab hit its mark. Sakura's jaw clenched, her embarrassment warring with wounded pride.
"Wait—I—I was just surprised," she muttered defensively, looking away. "If you'd just let me do it at my own pace—"
"Your own pace?" Mebuki's laugh was sharp, almost mocking. "Sweetheart, Eishin-sama doesn't have all day. Do you think a man of his stature has time to wait for you to work up the courage? You said you could handle anything he throws at you. Were those just empty words?"
"They are not! I'm—It just…." The daughter bit her lip, her fists clenching in her lap. "I can't—"
"You can't?" Mebuki interrupted. She tilted her head. "Is that what you want Eishin-sama to think? That his prize student is a quitter? That you flee at the first inconvenience?"
The bait was obvious, clumsy even, but for a young woman desperate for approval, it was lethal.
Sakura's spine stiffened. Currently, her pride was the only thing holding her together, and Mebuki was poking it with a stick.
"Stupid," she whispered under her breath, barely audible. The word wasn't for me. She punished herself faster than anyone else ever could.
"Fine, fine, I got this…." Sakura's head snapped up, her green eyes flashing with defiance. "I can do it," she said through gritted teeth. "Just—just give me a second."
"That's my girl," Mebuki beamed. "Open your mouth. Properly this time. And don't make me force you."
Sakura hesitated, her gaze flicking to me. I could see the conflict written all over her face—the humiliation, the stubborn pride, the desperate need to be seen as capable, as well as the need and desire rising within her.
She swallowed hard, then shuffled forward on her knees, her hands trembling as she reached for my cock again.
Mebuki immediately turned to me, her expression brightening like a saleswoman closing a deal.
"You see, Eishin-sama? She's trying so hard. She's new to this, of course, so you'll have to forgive her lack of refinement. But she's eager to learn. Isn't that what matters most?" She gestured to Sakura like she was presenting a prized possession. "And she's so young. So pliable. With the right guidance, she could become quite skilled."
I reached down and stroked Sakura's hair gently, my fingers threading through the long pink strands.
"You're doing well, Sakura," I said, my voice warm and reassuring. "Just take your time. There's no rush."
The effect was immediate. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she looked up at me with something close to gratitude.
"Thank you, Sensei," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Mebuki didn't waste a second.
"See? Your sensei believes in you. Don't disappoint him." She placed her hand on the back of Sakura's head again, guiding her forward. "Now, open your mouth. Wider this time. You need to relax your jaw. And remember—breathe through your nose."
Sakura obeyed, parting her lips hesitantly. Mebuki pushed her head down, feeding my cock back into her mouth, this time slower but no less insistent.
"That's it," Mebuki cooed, completely ignoring the way Sakura's eyes widened in panic. "Now hold it there. Don't pull away. Let your throat adjust."
Sakura made a small, muffled sound of distress that made an electric spark run through my spine, her hands flying up to grip my thighs for balance.
Mebuki looked up at me, her expression sickeningly sweet. "Does this please you, Eishin-sama? Should I push her deeper? I want to make sure you're properly satisfied."
I gave a mild nod. "She's doing fine. Just... guide her gently."
Mebuki's smile widened. "Of course. You're so thoughtful, Eishin-sama. Always considerate." She turned back to Sakura, her hand pressing down more firmly. "You hear that, sweetheart? Your sensei says you're doing fine. But 'fine' isn't enough, is it? You want to be good. So let's go a little deeper."
She pushed harder.
Sakura's eyes went wide, tears spilling over as she gagged hard, a wet, guttural sound as I hit her uvula. Her throat convulsed around me, tight and spasming, and the wet, choking sound filled the room.
"Ghhhk—hugh!"
I exhaled slowly, my hand tightening in her hair.
She couldn't hold it. She yanked herself back, dislodging Mebuki's hand, and pulled off my cock with a loud, wet smack. A long string of saliva connected her lip to my shaft before breaking, landing on her chin and the front of her red shirt.
She covered her mouth instantly, looking horrifyingly embarrassed.
"I—I'm sorry!" she gasped, her voice thick with shame. She wouldn't look at me. She stared at the floor, wiping frantically at her chin. "I'm sorry, Sensei! It's just—it's too big, I can't—I didn't mean to make a mess!"
She looked ready to cry. The sound of her own gagging clearly mortified her. I smiled, my little student and her priorities, huh. That said, it was a miracle that she wasn't grossed out by her first dick, it was a miracle, so her being embarrassed by this was rather mild.
I reached down and cupped her chin, tilting her face up gently.
"Sakura," I said softly. "Relax. It's a normal biological reaction. You have a gag reflex. Everyone does. It doesn't mean you failed." I thumbed a smudge of saliva from her lip. "Actually, the fact that you tried to take that much on your second try? It's impressive."
"Really?" she whispered, sniffing wetly.
"Really."
Mebuki, sensing the mood shift, immediately swooped in. She moved behind Sakura and began gathering her long pink hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail to expose her neck. Her fingers caught on Sakura's hitai-ate, still tied proudly in her hair.
"This is in the way," Mebuki tutted, untying the metal plate without asking.
"Hey—Mom, don't—" Sakura protested weakly, reaching up to stop her, but Mebuki had already slipped it off and tossed it carelessly onto the floor beside the discarded sundress.
"Hush. You don't need that right now," Mebuki said dismissively, smoothing Sakura's hair back with maternal efficiency. "What you need is focus. You heard your sensei, didn't you?" she said brightly. "You're doing wonderfully. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You're a Haruno, Sakura. We don't give up halfway. Now—" She tugged gently on the hair, positioning Sakura's face back toward my cock. "Time to show him what you're really made of. Open wide."
"See?" Mebuki chimed in, smiling beatifically. "He's so kind to you. So forgiving. Most men would be furious at such a messy display, but Eishin-sama is a saint." She tightened her grip on Sakura's hair, pulling her head back slightly, positioning Sakura's face back toward my cock. "So there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You heard him. It's 'impressive.' Now, show him what a Haruno is really made of. Make you mother proud."
Sakura blinked, wiping her eyes. She looked at her mother, then at me.
"But... Mom," she mumbled, finding a shred of logic. "You've... recovered, haven't you? Your breathing is fine now. You should take over. I nearly threw up. I can't—"
"Nonsense," Mebuki cut her off smoothly. "You're doing so well. This is a precious learning experience, Sakura. I wouldn't dream of taking this moment away from you. Besides..." Her voice dropped, sickly sweet. "Your sensei complimented you. Don't you want to earn more of his praise, huh? Come on, sweetheart. Open wide. Don't make me tell you again.
"Ugh, why is this happening?" Sakura let out a frustrated, defeated sigh. She looked at me one last time, searching for an out, but when I just gave her a small, encouraging nod, her shoulders slumped in resignation.
"Fine," she whispered.
She shuffled forward again.
She opened her mouth.
But this time, something shifted.
Maybe it was the praise. Maybe it was the resignation. Or maybe it was just genetics kicking in.
Sakura didn't hesitate. She didn't squeeze her eyes shut. She kept them open, fixed on my midsection, and slid down my shaft with surprising smoothness. She flattened her tongue against the bottom of her mouth, creating a flat surface for me to glide over.
She took me deep, not throat-fucking deep, but deep enough to bury the head and then some.
And then she sucked.
Her cheeks hollowed. The suction was tight, consistent, and shockingly rhythmic. She used the natural tightness of her inexperienced mouth to grip me, while her tongue did a tentative, swirling flutter against the sensitive underside.
My hips jerked forward involuntarily.
"Oh?" Mebuki murmured, sounding genuinely surprised. She watched her daughter work, a flicker of competitive jealousy warring with maternal pride in her eyes. "Well... would you look at that."
Sakura's eyes rolled up to meet mine, glazed and watery but focused. She was finding a rhythm. She was adapting.
It seemed the apple really didn't fall far from the whore.
Sakura's mouth was... agonizingly perfect.
It wasn't just the tightness—though fuck, the tightness was obscene. It was the warmth. The wet, slick heat of an inexperienced girl who had no idea what she was doing, but was desperately trying to figure it out in real time. Her lips were soft, wrapping around my shaft with a snug, eager grip. Her tongue moved clumsily, pressing flat one moment, then swirling tentatively the next, like she was following instructions from a manual she'd only skimmed.
But it was Sakura Haruno's mouth. The bratty, insecure, stubborn pinkette who'd watched in a screen a lifetime ago, now kneeling between my legs with her lips stretched impossibly wide around my girth, her cheeks hollowed, her green eyes rolling up to check my face for approval.
And her mother, her own fucking mother, acting like a cheerleader was holding her hair back in a makeshift ponytail, cooing encouragement like she was teaching her daughter how to fold laundry.
The obscenity of it all made my cock throb harder.
"She's finding the rhythm, isn't she, Eishin-sama?" the middle-aged woman murmured, her voice breathy and satisfied. She adjusted her grip on Sakura's ponytail, pulling just enough to angle her daughter's head better. "Do you feel that? The way she tries to accommodate you? She's clumsy, but she's trying so hard to please you."
I threaded my fingers into Sakura's scalp, tangling them in her long pink hair, but I didn't guide her. I didn't force her. I let her and Mebuki figure out the rhythm. I wanted to see how far they'd take this without my input.
"You're being too gentle," Mebuki murmured, watching her daughter critically. "Flatten your tongue, Sakura. Don't let your teeth scrape. Swallow around him. Create suction. Like you're drinking a thick milkshake through a straw. Yes, just like that."
Sakura adjusted immediately, hollowing her cheeks harder. The pressure increased, tight and consistent, and I groaned softly.
Her eyes snapped up to mine.
I knew that look. I'd used it a thousand times—the careful, analytical scan of a partner's face, cataloging every micro-expression, every hitch of breath, every twitch of muscle to gauge what worked and what didn't. It was a feedback loop. A way to weaponize pleasure.
And Sakura, on her first time, was already intuitively deploying it.
She really was a genius, alright. Not in what you would expect, but a genius nonetheless.
Her technique was still rough, uncoordinated bobs, inconsistent suction, but she was learning. She was improving visibly within seconds. She tilted her head slightly, changing the angle so I hit the roof of her mouth instead of her teeth. She flattened her tongue again, creating a smooth glide for my shaft.
Her lips, soft and innocent, stretched obscenely around my girth. The visual alone, those pink, trembling lips bulging with my cock, was almost enough to make me blow my load right there.
I groaned again, louder this time, my fingers tightening reflexively in her hair.
That seemed to be the signal both mother and daughter had been waiting for.
Sakura's green eyes lit up like she'd just been told she'd aced an exam. She paused for a fraction of a second, processing the feedback, and then—fuck—she did something insane with her tongue. She curled it around the underside of my shaft, swirling it in a corkscrew motion that sent electricity shooting up my spine.
"Yes, yes!" Mebuki hissed, pushing Sakura's head down harder. "Just like that! See? He likes it! Keep going!"
She looked up at me, her eyes frantic and hungry. "How is she, Eishin-sama? Is her mouth good? Does she need to go deeper? Should she use more tongue? Tell me, tell me how to make her better—how to make her perfect for you—Just say the word, and I'll make sure she does it!"
I groaned, my grip on Sakura's hair tightening. "She's... fuck... she's good. Really good."
The pleasure was mounting fast. My cock throbbed hard inside her mouth, swelling further, and Sakura made a surprised, muffled noise, half-gag, half-moan.
"Of course she is!" The mother preened, her vanity swelling alongside my erection. "She's my daughter."
Then she turned back to Sakura, her voice dropping into that commanding, maternal register. "But good isn't enough—deeper, girl! A man like Eishin-sama needs depth. You need to prove what Haruno women are capable of. You need to show him he had made the right choice in taking you as his student."
She yanked Sakura's hair back slightly to open her airway, then barked, "Hands behind your back! Eishin-sama loves that. Show him your devotion. Show him you trust him completely!"
For some reason, Sakura didn't hesitate.
For some reason, Sakura didn't argue or hesitate. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the desire to impress me, or maybe she was just too far gone to argue. She yanked her hands off my thighs and locked them behind her back, leaving herself utterly defenseless.
"Excellent!" Mebuki praised, her voice thick with excitement. "Look at that deference! Look at that trust! Eishin-sama, don't you think she needs to be rewarded?"
"She does… she is a good girl."
"Heard that, dear? Your sensei thinks you are a good girl, aren't happy? Now, be as good as he thought you to be and open your throat, let him in! Don't fight the reflex. Accept him."
Sakura gagged once. Twice. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to follow her mother's advice and take more of him despite her shame and mortification, she gagged more. But she suppressed it. She breathed hard through her nose, forcing herself to relax.
Then I groaned again, a low, guttural curse, and her eyes flew open.
She locked onto my face, watery and determined, and started taking me deeper.
The pinkette stopped fighting the gag and started riding it. She relaxed her throat, taking another inch, then another. She passed the faint red ring of lipstick Mebuki had left earlier. No more teeth. Just wet, hot, gripping softness.
She was close to taking half my length now.
My control was slipping. The pleasure was building too fast, too hard. I was going to blow any second.
Mebuki sensed it. Her semen fetish must have kicked into overdrive because she started talking faster, more frantically.
"Look at her, Eishin-sama," she breathed, her voice thick with hunger. "Look at my daughter's innocent mouth. So pure. So untouched. And now it's wrapped around you. Doesn't it feel divine? Doesn't it feel like heaven?"
It does, it fucking does!
"How does she feel now, Eishin-sama? Tell me! Tell me!" she asked frantically, her eyes darting between my face and her daughter's mouth. "Is she worthy of you? Is her mouth tight enough to drain you? Don't hold back! She's resilient! She's a kunoichi, isn't she? Use her! Teach her a lesson she'll never forget! Bless us both with your essence!"
I grit my teeth, staring deep into Sakura's green, watery eyes.
And I saw the hunger there. The same masochistic drive her mother had. The need to please. To prove herself.
I crunched her hair in my fist and started face-fucking her.
Not gentle. Not slow. I thrust into her mouth with purpose, seeking depth, chasing the release building in my balls.
Sakura's eyes went wide with shock at first, her body tensing, but then the fire lit. She didn't pull away. She leaned in. She opened wider. She relaxed her throat. She met my thrusts.
She gagged, sure, but she accepted me. She welcomed the intrusion, opening her throat wider than her mother ever could, her chakra-enhanced control allowing her to suppress the reflex just enough to take me.
She was better than Mebuki. Tighter. Wetter. More responsive.
Sakura was a kunoichi. Weak, untrained, but still a kunoichi. She had chakra reinforcement she didn't even know she was using. Her body adapted faster than a civilian's ever could.
She surpassed the mark her mother had made.
She took more than half. her master guidance
At some point, Mebuki relinquished the ponytail to me. The middle-aged woman shuffled closer on her knees, wrapping her arm around my leg like a bitch in heat, clinging to me.
"Yes, yes!" she hissed, her hand reaching down to cup and stroke my balls. "Show her. Teach her. Use her. Fill her with your blessing. Oh, what a blessing for a daughter to receive her master's guidance — his gift like this! Give it to us. Give it to us!"
Through it all, Sakura kept her hands behind her back. She let me use her face as a masturbatory aid, let me ruin her throat, and she kept her eyes glued to mine, watching every flicker of pleasure cross my face with a terrifying intensity.
The heaven of her mouth was too much. The friction was perfect. The sight of those big, beautiful green eyes staring up at me, watching, learning, drinking in every reaction, while she choked on my cock was the final straw.
I couldn't hold it anymore.
I pulled her head closer by the hair, stuffing nearly two-thirds of my shaft down her throat, and exploded.
"Mmmph!"
Sakura's eyes bulged. Her body went rigid as the first rope of hot semen hit the back of her throat. She convulsed, but she didn't pull away. She didn't tap out. She kept her hands locked behind her back and instinctively swallowed.
I pumped into her, unloading wave after wave. I would have filled her completely—drowned her in it—if Mebuki hadn't panicked.
"My turn!" she shrieked, yanking Sakura off by the shoulder.
My conscious brain, barely functioning, realized the mother needed her reward too. This was a team effort, after all.
I pulled out with a wet schlop.
The moment my cock left Sakura's mouth, the masochistic milf lunged. She wrapped both hands around my shaft and pumped furiously, angling it toward her face, her open mouth, her exposed breasts.
The rest of my load painted her. Thick ropes splattered across her cheeks, her lips, her tits. She moaned like she was cumming just from the contact, rubbing my seed into her skin like lotion.
"Yes! Yes! Don't waste a drop! Bless me! Bless me too!" she babbled, smearing the white fluid over her cheeks like war paint, licking it off her lips with manic desperation. "Oh, Eishin-sama! So potent! So holy!"
Behind her, Sakura collapsed back on her heels, coughing violently, spitting cum onto the floor.
"What—cough—what the hell, Mom!" she rasped, glaring at Mebuki, a thin trickle of sperm escaping the corner of her mouth and dripping onto the floor.
Mebuki ignored her, frantically scooping up the cum Sakura had coughed out and rubbing it into her own face.
"Shh," Mebuki scolded absently. "You shouldn't complain. Did you swallow? Do you have any idea how precious this is?!"
"Ugh, that's gross," Sakura muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "You are…. acting weird."
The mother stood up, shaky on her legs but wearing a serene, almost beatific smile. She smoothed her hair back—uselessly, given the mess—and suddenly adopted an air of refined dignity.
"You did well, Sakura," she said, sounding like she was complimenting a piano recital. "Better than expected for a first attempt." She cleared her throat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a moment. A lady must freshen up."
And with that, she walked to the bathroom, naked, covered in my seed, her ass red from my handprint, with her head held high like royalty.
Leaving me alone with an embarrassed, disheveled Sakura who couldn't bring herself to look me in the eye.
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