The cracked dice rolled to a stop against her inkpot, showing snake eyes again. Tsunade snorted into her lukewarm sake. "Quiet as a grave," she muttered to the empty office. Papers piled like neglected tombstones, dust motes dancing in the stale afternoon light. Three years. Three damned years since the brat's laughter bounced off these walls. She traced the condensation on her cup, the chill seeping into her fingertips. "When's that idiot Jiraiya bringing him home?" Her voice echoed, too loud in the stillness. "Training shouldn't take *this* long. Not for him." She pictured Naruto's grin, that stubborn jut of his chin—so much like Nawaki's before the shrapnel tore him apart, so much like Dan's before the blood soaked her hands. A phantom ache throbbed low in her belly, sharp and hollow. She slammed the cup down, amber liquid sloshing onto a mission report. "Damn it." The scent of alcohol couldn't mask the deeper loneliness, the space where Naruto's chaotic energy used to vibrate. Outside, a lone cicada droned. *Quiet*. Always too damn quiet.
"He better not be teaching him those pervy jutsu," she grumbled aloud, the ghost of Jiraiya's lecherous chuckle almost audible. She shifted in her chair, the stiff fabric of her haori tugging across her shoulders, the snug obi pressing into the soft curve below her ribs. The silence pressed back, thick and suffocating. She missed the *noise*—Naruto's explosive arguments with Sakura in the hallway, the clatter of ramen bowls overturned in his haste, even the thunderous crashes when a clone exercise went spectacularly wrong. That relentless, life-affirming chaos was gone, leaving only this sterile vacuum. A bead of sweat traced a path down her temple despite the room's coolness. She pulled open the top drawer, finding not paperwork but another flask. The cap twisted off with a sharp hiss.
The first scorching sip burned a path down her throat, spreading warmth through her chest that didn't reach the cold knot behind her breastbone. It settled heavily in her stomach. Three years felt like thirty. Had Naruto grown taller? Did he still wear that ridiculous orange jumpsuit? Did he ever… think of her? She pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the physical sensation—the vibration of her own pulse under her skin, the slight drag of her silk blouse against her chest where sweat gathered beneath the valley of her cleavage. Her gaze drifted to the window, seeing not the bustling village streets but a cliffside training ground soaked in sunset light, a small, determined figure yelling Rasengan drills until his voice cracked. *Come home*, she willed silently, the plea a physical pressure behind her eyes.
The dice lay forgotten. Silence, thick and granular, filled her mouth like ash. She took another long pull from the flask, the alcohol a familiar, failing shield. How many quiet days had bled into quiet nights since they left? Her thumb rubbed the spot where her necklace once was beneath her blouse, the action ingrained. Nawaki had worn it for half a day. Dan, barely a week. Both times, it returned slick with blood she couldn't stop. A tremor ran through her hand. *Not Naruto*, she thought fiercely. *Let Jiraiya keep him safe*. The phantom scent of coppery blood mingled sickeningly with the sharp tang of sake. She needed noise, disruption, *proof* life wasn't just this suffocating stillness punctuated only by the rasp of her own breath and the frantic drumming of her heart against her ribs. "Hurry up, you old toad," she whispered into the emptiness, the words tasting like dust. The quiet pressed in, unbearably heavy.
A smile tugged unexpectedly at the corners of her lips. Not pleasant, but raw and aching. She touched her forehead, the diamond seal cool beneath her fingertips. *Fallen hard, haven't you, Princess?* The admission bloomed inside her chest, hot and undeniable. It wasn't just pride in his growth, or admiration for his spirit. It was the way his stupid grin could unravel the knots in her shoulders just by existing, the fierce protectiveness that flared when she imagined harm finding him, the deep, unsettling pull she felt whenever she recalled the sheer, stubborn life radiating from him. It was why this silence felt like suffocation, why the thought of his absence scraped her hollow. Her gaze drifted unconsciously to the window overlooking the training grounds he'd worn down. Of course it was Naruto. But… a flush crept up her neck, surprising her. Her mind flickered to pink hair, green eyes narrowed in fierce determination, the surprising strength cradled in slender arms. Sakura. Not Naruto. Different, warmer, a bloom compared to his blazing sun. The realization settled, unexpected but undeniable. "Both of them," she murmured aloud, the confession soft, almost lost. "Damn it." The complexity tightened her throat. She wasn't supposed to feel this way, not about *anyone*, let alone these two impossible kids who'd somehow crawled past her defenses. The loneliness sharpened, edged with yearning. *Why them?* The ache wasn't just for Naruto's return now; it was a sudden, sharp hunger for Sakura's focused presence too.
A sharp *rap-rap-rap* shattered the oppressive quiet. Tsunade jumped, the flask clattering against the inkpot. Her breath hitched. "Come in!" she barked, her voice rougher than intended, scraping her throat. She hastily shoved the flask back into the desk drawer with a muffled thud.
The door slid open, revealing Sakura Haruno silhouetted against the hallway light. Tsunade's breath caught again, differently this time. "Lady Hokage," Sakura greeted, stepping inside, her posture stiff with deference, but her eyes scanning the room with quick, efficient assessment – the scattered papers, the upturned flask cap gleaming faintly. Tsunade forced herself not to smooth her hair, not to adjust her haori. Instead, she leaned back, trying for nonchalance as her gaze swept over her apprentice. Sakura had indeed blossomed. Gone was the awkward girl hiding her forehead; confidence carved her features now, lending elegance to the sharp lines of her jaw. Her pink hair was shorter, practical, framing her face. The medical apron skirt hinted at curves beneath – the slim waist Tsunade remembered, hips gently flaring, a subtle curve to her backside outlined by the fabric. Her shoulders seemed broader, carrying the weight of training and responsibility well. The sleeveless top revealed toned arms Tsunade knew packed astonishing power. Tsunade's gaze lingered a fraction too long on the swell of Sakura's small B-cup breasts beneath the red top, the smooth skin of her neck, the determined set of her mouth. *Beautiful*, Tsunade acknowledged with a jolt. The thought arrived unbidden, sharp as lightning. She dragged her eyes upwards, meeting Sakura's green gaze. Had Naruto changed this much? Had the gawky boy filled out? Become… handsome? A prickling heat spread beneath Tsunade's own skin, confusing and undeniable. Her own heart hammered against her ribs, a traitorous drumbeat she prayed Sakura couldn't hear. She felt suddenly hyper-aware of the silk blouse clinging slightly to her own damp skin beneath the haori, the uncomfortable constriction of her obi. "Report?" Tsunade managed, hoping the flush warming her cheeks could be blamed on the sake. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening. The air felt charged, thick with unspoken tension.
Sakura hesitated, her perceptive eyes narrowing slightly. Tsunade's intense scrutiny wasn't lost on her. She shifted her weight, the low heels of her boots clicking softly on the polished wood floor. "It's… quiet," Sakura began, her voice steady but tinged with the same unease Tsunade felt. "Perimeter patrols report nothing unusual. Supplies are adequate." She paused, her gaze flicking towards the window where the setting sun painted long shadows. "No word…" she added softly, the unspoken *from Naruto* hanging heavy between them. Tsunade felt the phantom ache in her belly tighten into a hard knot. Sakura stepped closer, placing a slim medical report file on the cluttered desk. The scent of antiseptic soap and faint sweat clung to her, intimately familiar, yet suddenly charged. Tsunade watched the fluid movement of Sakura's forearm muscles beneath smooth skin, the delicate tendons standing out as her fingers released the file. Her gaze traced the elegant line of Sakura's collarbone, rising to the determined set of her jaw. *Beautiful*, whispered the traitorous thought again, sharp and undeniable. Had Naruto's awkward angles softened into something equally arresting? Would he stand taller now, shoulders broader, that chaotic energy somehow distilled into a more potent, magnetic presence? The image bloomed unbidden, vivid and unsettling – Naruto grinning, suntanned and leanly muscled, his blue eyes holding a depth they hadn't possessed before. Tsunade's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm she feared Sakura might hear. Her palms grew damp against the desk's cool wood.
"Is there…" Sakura hesitated again, twisting the fabric of her apron skirt unconsciously. Tsunade noticed the subtle tremor in her fingers, the faint flush creeping up her slender neck. "Has Master Jiraiya sent any updates? Any letters?" Sakura's voice was carefully neutral, but her green eyes held a desperate glimmer, fixed intently on Tsunade's face. "For the village… or…" The unspoken *for me?* vibrated in the thick air. Sakura's knuckles whitened where she gripped her skirt hem. Tsunade watched the muscles tense in Sakura's forearm, the faint sheen of sweat visible on her upper lip. She saw the hope warring with dread in Sakura's expression – the same storm she felt churning inside herself.
Tsunade's throat tightened painfully. She forced her gaze away from Sakura's pleading eyes, down to the sake stain blooming darkly on the mission report. "Nothing," she rasped, the word scraping her throat raw. She lifted her chin, meeting Sakura's gaze again, forcing herself to watch the light dim in those vivid green eyes. "No letters. Not this week. Not…" She couldn't finish. Not *for months*. The disappointment crashed over Sakura's face like a physical blow. Her shoulders sagged, the fierce posture momentarily crumbling. Tsunade saw the tremor intensify in Sakura's hands, the press of her lips thinning into a pale line of barely contained worry. A pang of shared anguish pierced Tsunade's chest, sharp and intimate. Sakura's breath hitched audibly, a tiny, vulnerable sound in the suffocating quiet. Tsunade felt Sakura's fear resonate deep within her own bones – the terrifying silence stretching too long, the possibilities too grim to voice. The phantom scent of blood, Naruto's blood, seemed to taint the air between them.
Tsunade pushed herself upright abruptly, the chair legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sudden movement startled Sakura, making her flinch slightly. Tsunade ignored the dizzying warmth flooding her own cheeks – sake flush, she told herself fiercely. Ignored the treacherous pulse beating low and insistent in her abdomen. Ignored the unsettling pull she felt towards Sakura's worried presence, towards the imagined strength of Naruto's return. This silence, this shared dread… it was swallowing them whole. She needed *noise*. Needed impact. Needed to feel bone-deep exertion drown out the frantic clamor of fear. Sakura needed it too – Tsunade saw the coiled tension vibrating in her apprentice's slim frame, the restless energy that needed channeling before it turned inward. Tsunade strode around the desk, the heavy fabric of her haori swirling around her legs. She stopped directly before Sakura, close enough to smell the clean scent of her hair, to see the tiny flecks of gold in her widened green eyes. Tsunade's own gaze swept down Sakura's form – the toned arms, the strong line of her shoulders, the deceptive power coiled in her lean frame – before locking back onto her face. A spark ignited in Tsunade's honey-brown eyes, fierce and challenging. "Enough waiting," she declared, her voice rough but commanding. "This desk is suffocating me. Training Field Seven. Now. Sparring." She didn't frame it as a question. She saw the flicker of surprise, then understanding, then fierce determination ignite in Sakura's expression. "Show me what that fist of yours can *really* do, Sakura."
Sakura's breath hitched, not in fear but in sudden, fierce anticipation. The suffocating dread dissipated instantly, replaced by a sharp surge of adrenaline. The knot in her chest loosened, replaced by the familiar burn of exertion waiting to happen. Tsunade's command was a lifeline, an outlet for the frantic energy thrumming beneath her skin. "Yes, Lady Hokage!" Sakura acknowledged, her voice suddenly clear and strong. The deference remained, but it was overlaid with a spark of competitive fire Tsunade recognized intimately – the same fire that had driven her own fists decades ago. Sakura pivoted sharply, low heels clicking decisively against the polished floor, her pink hair swinging with the movement. Tsunade followed, her own stride long and purposeful, the discomfort beneath her obi forgotten. The oppressive silence of the office was left behind, replaced by the distant sounds of the village breathing outside. They moved through the corridors in charged silence, the air crackling with unspoken energy. Tsunade watched the fluid grace of Sakura's movements ahead of her – the confident set of her shoulders, the subtle roll of her hips beneath the apron skirt, the toned definition of her calves flexing with each step. Tsunade felt her own muscles responding, priming themselves. This wasn't assessment. This was catharsis. Raw. Necessary.
(Scene Shift: Training Field Seven)
The humid air hung thick and damp over Training Field Seven, smelling sharply of upturned earth and bruised grass. Tsunade ignored the sweat already pricking her temples beneath her high ponytails. Across the scarred expanse, Sakura mirrored her stance, feet planted shoulder-width apart on the packed dirt. Her green eyes were narrowed, fierce, concentrated entirely on Tsunade. Gone was the hesitant apprentice; here stood a formidable kunoichi, her short pink hair plastered slightly to her damp forehead, her sleeveless top revealing corded forearms and shoulders honed by relentless training. Tsunade felt a surge of fierce pride laced with the primal anticipation of a worthy fight. "No holding back," Tsunade commanded, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet clearing. "Show me the strength you've earned, Sakura." She didn't wait for acknowledgment. "HAAAA!" Tsunade roared, channeling chakra into her legs in an explosive burst. The earth cratered violently beneath her launching feet as she propelled herself forward with terrifying speed, dust exploding in her wake. Her fist, wreathed in visible chakra-knuckles sharpened to lethal points-arrowed directly for Sakura's midriff, a devastating opening blow designed to test reflexes and commitment.
Sakura reacted instantly, her own cry slicing through the air. "YOSH!" She didn't flinch. Instead, she pivoted, her left foot digging deep into the dirt, twisting her torso away from the trajectory of Tsunade's fist while simultaneously bringing her own right fist up in a blinding counter-strike. Tsunade felt the displacement of air as Sakura's punch grazed past her own ribs, the heat radiating from Sakura's knuckles palpable even through her haori. Tsunade's fist smashed into the space Sakura had occupied a microsecond before, pulverizing packed earth into a deep crater. Dust mushroomed up, momentarily obscuring vision. Sakura used the cover, instantly closing the distance Tsunade's lunge had created. Tsunade sensed more than saw the blur of pink hair and clenched fist materializing beside her left ear. Tsunade threw herself into a backward somersault, the powerful muscles in her thighs and core screaming as she narrowly avoided Sakura's chakra-laden punch. The displaced air buffeted Tsunade's face as she landed lightly, instantly bouncing back onto the balls of her feet. Sakura pressed the advantage, unleashing a rapid-fire barrage of punches aimed at Tsunade's guard. *THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!*
Tsunade blocked each blow with crossed forearms, the impacts reverberating jarringly up her bones, forcing her back step-by-step across the uneven ground. Sakura's fists were like miniature battering rams, each strike carrying astonishing kinetic force. Tsunade felt the jarring vibrations travel through her arms into her shoulders, a deep ache blooming where Sakura's knuckles slammed against her hardened forebones. Sweat stung Tsunade's eyes. She grinned fiercely through gritted teeth. Sakura had grown *strong*. Tsunade's breath came in sharp bursts, the humid air thick in her lungs. "Good!" she barked, parrying another savage blow, the impact numbing her forearm momentarily. "But don't just push!" Tsunade shifted her weight subtly, planting her right foot firmly. As Sakura's next punch flew towards her temple, Tsunade explosively dropped her center of gravity, simultaneously catching Sakura's wrist mid-swing. Using Sakura's own momentum against her, Tsunade pivoted sharply on her planted foot, hauling Sakura around in a fierce arc.
Sakura gasped audibly, her feet leaving the ground as centrifugal force took over. Tsunade's grip was iron-tight on Sakura's wrist, the tendons standing out sharply beneath Tsunade's fingers as she felt Sakura's frantic pulse hammering against her palm. Tsunade's muscles screamed with exertion – the powerful pull in her latissimus dorsi, the stabilizing burn in her core, the sheer effort required to control Sakura's considerable momentum. Tsunade released Sakura's wrist at the peak of the throw, sending her disciple sailing backward toward a thick stand of bamboo. Tsunade didn't wait. She surged forward immediately, chakra flooding her legs again.
Before Sakura could fully crash through the bamboo stalks, Tsunade was upon her, fist cocked back, aiming for Sakura's exposed flank. "Predictable!" Sakura spat from within the flailing bamboo, her voice strained but clear. Instead of trying to regain footing awkwardly amidst the stalks, Sakura kicked off the thickest one she could find, twisting her body mid-air like a coiled spring. She didn't block Tsunade's incoming punch; she *met* it head-on with her own clenched fist, chakra flaring violently around her knuckles. The collision wasn't a sound; it was a *detonation*. A massive shockwave ripped outward from the point of impact, flattening nearby bamboo stalks instantly and kicking up a plume of dust and splinters.
Tsunade felt the bone-jarring concussion travel up her arm, rattling her teeth and momentarily blurring her vision. A grunt of pure exertion escaped her lips. The sheer kinetic force of Sakura's counterpunch halted Tsunade's forward momentum dead, forcing her back a staggering step. Sakura landed nimbly amidst the wreckage of bamboo, breathing hard, strands of pink hair plastered to her flushed cheeks. Tsunade shook her stinging arm, adrenaline roaring in her ears. The momentary disorientation cleared, replaced by fierce exhilaration. Sakura's fist, clenched and trembling slightly, radiated heat visible in the humid air.
Tsunade felt a tremor run through her own knuckles – the raw power Sakura had unleashed was tangible, thrilling. "Stronger…" Tsunade rasped, wiping sweat from her brow with a quick swipe of her forearm. Her gaze locked onto Sakura's, fierce pride battling with the visceral thrill of the challenge.
"...than I ever was at your age." Sakura's chest heaved, sweat tracing rivulets down her neck, soaking into the collar of her sleeveless top. Her eyes blazed with determination, fierce and unwavering. Tsunade saw the flush spreading down Sakura's throat, the rapid pulse jumping in the hollow below her jaw. The air crackled with shared exertion and unspoken ambition.
Tsunade shifted her stance, sinking lower, every muscle coiled. "Again!" she commanded, her voice thick with anticipation. Sakura mirrored her instantly, roots digging deep into the torn earth. The silence stretched, charged and heavy, broken only by their ragged breaths. Then, as one, they exploded forward.
The impact wasn't clean this time. Tsunade feinted high, drawing Sakura's guard upward before ducking beneath her extended arm. Her shoulder slammed into Sakura's midsection, driving the air from her lungs in a harsh gasp. Tsunade wrapped powerful arms around Sakura's waist, locking her hands beneath Sakura's ribs where the muscles quivered with strain. Sakura fought the grapple, hips twisting violently, the powerful muscles in her thighs straining against Tsunade's hold. Tsunade gritted her teeth, feeling Sakura's damp back plastered against her chest, the frantic heartbeat hammering against her sternum, the slick slide of sweat between their pressed skin. Sakura's elbow drove backward, catching Tsunade in the ribs with bruising force. Tsunade grunted but tightened her grip, leveraging her own formidable weight. She lifted Sakura clear off the ground, Sakura's legs kicking uselessly in the air. Tsunade felt Sakura's core muscles ripple with desperate effort beneath her encircling arms, the soft curve of Sakura's hip bone digging into Tsunade's forearm as she fought for leverage.
With a roar fueled by exertion and gritted teeth, Tsunade executed a brutal suplex. Sakura arched helplessly over Tsunade's shoulder before crashing down onto the packed earth back-first with devastating force. The impact sent a visible tremor through the ground. Dust choked the air. Tsunade stood panting above Sakura's momentarily stunned form, sweat stinging her eyes, her own ribs aching where Sakura's elbow had connected. Silence descended, thick and ringing. Slowly, Sakura groaned, pushing herself up onto trembling elbows, hair plastered to her forehead, dirt smudged across her flushed cheek. Tsunade extended a hand. Sakura blinked, momentarily dazed, then grasped Tsunade's forearm firmly. Tsunade pulled her upright, feeling Sakura's weight, the tremors still running through her disciple's exhausted frame. Without a word, Tsunade jerked her head towards the treeline where the cool rush of the river promised relief. They stumbled towards it together, bodies aching, the fierce energy of the spar replaced by bone-deep fatigue and the shared understanding of exertion pushed to its limit.
(Later.)
Cool water rushed over Tsunade's ankles as she waded deeper into the river eddy, the current tugging gently at her weary muscles. She sank onto a smooth, sun-warmed boulder submerged just below the surface, letting the water lap at her hips. Beside her, Sakura sighed deeply, immersing herself fully, scrubbing sweat and dirt from her arms. "Naruto," Sakura murmured, a soft smile playing on her lips as she scooped water over her shoulders. "He really is something else, isn't he?"
Tsunade leaned back against the smooth stone, closing her eyes briefly, the coolness seeping into her aching back. "Hn. Yeah, he definitely has his moments." she grunted, though the fondness in her voice was unmistakable. "Stubborn idiot. Refused to quit practicing, even after wrecking three training posts."
Sakura laughed, the sound bright and clear against the river's rush, her hands working soap through her tangled pink hair. "Always Naruto," she agreed, scrubbing vigorously. "There was this mission we were on. And he convinced this entire gambling den the dice were rigged just by looking fiercely determined."
Tsunade smirked, cracking one eye open to watch Sakura submerge again, rinsing dirt from her hair. The flush from Sakura's exertion was fading, leaving her skin smooth and pale in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. "He did," Tsunade conceded, her own fingers tracing lazy patterns in the water swirling near her bare thigh. "Annoyingly sincere. Gets him into trouble... and out of it." She paused, tilting her head slightly. Sakura was quiet now, staring at the water flowing over her submerged hands, a thoughtful, almost tender expression softening her features. Tsunade's gaze lingered on Sakura's profile – the strong line of her jaw relaxed, the focused intensity of her sparring replaced by a quiet warmth. The shift was subtle but unmistakable.
"Hmph," Tsunade murmured, a knowing gleam sparking in her honey-brown eyes. She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her submerged knees, the water swirling around her breasts. "Funny," she said, her voice low and teasingly deliberate. "Used to be all you talked about was your Sasuke-kun." Tsunade watched Sakura freeze mid-motion, her hands hovering just beneath the surface. Sakura's shoulders tensed minutely. "The Uchiha," Tsunade continued, her smirk deepening as she traced the curve of her own wet forearm. "The brooding genius. Every mission report dripping with his name." She paused, letting the rush of the river fill the silence. "Now? It's Naruto this, Naruto that… his stupid pranks, his ridiculous determination…" Tsunade tilted her head, droplets catching sunlight as they slid down her neck. "Sounds like someone's priorities have shifted." The observation hung heavy, intimate.
Sakura's flush returned in a sudden wave, creeping from her collarbones up her neck, staining her cheeks a vivid pink that clashed with her hair. She ducked her head, fingers nervously twisting beneath the water, tracing patterns unseen. "Sensei, that's…!" she protested weakly, her voice catching. "Sasuke is… complicated. He made his choices." The words lacked conviction. Sakura lifted her gaze, meeting Tsunade's unwavering amusement. Her green eyes held a flicker of confusion, a vulnerability exposed amidst the reeds and smooth stones. "Naruto…" she began, softer now, the name escaping like a sigh. "He's just… *there*. Always. Reliable. Annoyingly bright." A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her lips, warm and genuine. "He makes things… lighter." She trailed off, staring at her reflection rippling on the water's surface, seeing not just her own flushed face, but the persistent ghost of sunshine-yellow hair and blue eyes.
Tsunade chuckled, a low rumble resonant in her chest. She leaned back, letting the cool water cradle her shoulders, her gaze drifting upwards towards the fragmented sky visible through the canopy. Sunlight dappled her face, catching the sweat-darkened roots of her blonde hair plastered to her forehead. "Reliable," she echoed, the word tasting familiar, a bitter-sweet resonance echoing Dan's steadfast presence. "Annoyingly bright." Her smirk widened, sharp and knowing. "He's more than that, girl." She paused, stirring the eddy currents with a lazy finger. A dragonfly darted overhead, its iridescent wings humming softly. Tsunade's voice dropped lower, softer, almost conspiratorial, yet carrying clearly across the gentle rush of the river. "He gets under your skin, doesn't he? That idiot. Burrows right in with sheer damned persistence." She tilted her head, sunlight glinting off the Strength of a Hundred Seal on her brow. "Like a stubborn weed cracking concrete." The comparison was crude, unrefined, utterly Tsunade.
Her gaze remained fixed on the shifting blue fragments above, her expression softening, the fierce lines around her eyes momentarily smoothing. The smirk faded into something distant, tender, yet raw. "Hmph. 'Annoyingly sincere'," she murmured, repeating Sakura's phrase, but imbuing it with thick layers of unspoken weight. The humid air suddenly felt charged, thick with anticipation. Sakura froze, her breath catching, sensing the shift, the intimacy deepening beyond teasing. Tsunade's next words, spoken quietly, deliberately, dropped like stones into the river's surface. "He looks at you like you hung the damn moon, Sakura. Like you're the answer to every stupid question he's ever had." She shifted slightly on the submerged rock, the cool stone pressing against her thigh. A beat of silence stretched, filled only by dragonfly wings and water. Then Tsunade's voice came again, low, resonant, stripped bare. "Foolish boy." Her fingers clenched subtly on her knee beneath the water. "Makes it damn hard…" Another pause, heavy. She finally looked away from the sky, her honey-brown eyes meeting Sakura's wide, startled gaze squarely. Tsunade's lips curved, not in a smirk, but in a small, startlingly vulnerable smile. "...not to love him back."
Sakura jolted as if struck, the water splashing around her waist. Her mouth fell open slightly, her eyes impossibly wide, emerald pools reflecting pure disbelief. "L-Love…?" she stammered, the single syllable fractured, choked. Her mind reeled, the casual intimacy of the riverbank evaporating instantly. Shock ricocheted through her, cold and sharp, obliterating the lingering warmth of the spar and Sakura's own burgeoning feelings. Tsunade? The Fifth Hokage? The Legendary Sannin? The woman who'd scorned the very *idea* of romance after Dan? Loving… Naruto? *Her* Naruto? The image clashed violently with every perception Sakura held of her formidable, cynical teacher. Tsunade simply held her gaze, the vulnerability melting back into her usual wry amusement, tinged now with a hint of defiance. She raised a challenging eyebrow, daring Sakura to deny it, to question it. The silence crackled, thick with Sakura's stunned paralysis and Tsunade's quiet confession lying bare between them. Cool river water suddenly felt icy against Sakura's skin.
A slow, sad smirk twisted Sakura's lips, utterly devoid of its usual fire. She tore her gaze away from Tsunade, staring down at her own trembling hands submerged in the eddying water. The pink strands clung wetly to her flushed, pale cheeks. "Naruto…" she murmured, the name thick with raw, unguarded feeling. "Yeah." The admission escaped like a sigh escaping a sealed jar, laced with defeat. Her fingers traced the plane of her own submerged stomach, the defined muscles softened by water. "He's… everything. Stupidly kind. Fiercely loyal. Brighter than the damn sun." Her voice dropped, hoarse. "Makes you want to be… *more*. For him." She lifted her hands, watching droplets trace the lean lines of her forearms, the callouses earned from a thousand punches. "I know it's… pointless." Sakura finally looked up, her green eyes meeting Tsunade's squarely, shimmering with unshed tears and fierce resignation. "How could I ever… *possibly*… compete?"
Sakura's gaze slid deliberately down Tsunade's form, exposed from the waist up above the swirling water. The sight was unavoidable, breathtaking even amidst Sakura's raw pain. Tsunade reclined against the rock, the water lapping just below the swell of her breasts. Sakura's eyes traced the impossible curve of Tsunade's hipbone beneath the surface, the shadowed dip leading to the powerful muscle of her thigh. "Look at you," Sakura breathed, her voice thick with bitter awe. Her own hand unconsciously drifted upwards, brushing against the firm swell of her own smaller breast beneath the water. The hand outlining her athletic shape, respectable and strong, but utterly eclipsed. "You're… legendary." Sakura's fingers hesitantly touched the smooth skin of her own ribcage, then her flatter abdomen. "The Goddess of Shinobi." Her gaze lingered on the deep valley of Tsunade's cleavage, the soft, heavy weight resting effortlessly against her torso. "Even… even *without* all that," Sakura's voice cracked, her gesture encompassing Tsunade's legendary figure, "just… *you*. The Fifth Hokage. Someone … that's so important to him." Sakura's hand fell back into the water with a soft splash, fingers curling. "Your strength. Your scars. Your history with him." She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat painful. "Naruto looks at you like… like you're carved from sunlight itself." Her sad smirk returned, fragile and broken. "Why would he… why would he ever even *see* me?" Her eyes dropped back to the distorted reflection of her own face in the water – strong features softened by despair, pink hair plastered flat, utterly dwarfed by the radiant presence beside her.
Tsunade snorted, the sound sharp and unexpected, slicing through Sakura's self-pity. "Competing?" she echoed, her voice rough, laced with disbelief. She shifted abruptly on the slick rock, the movement causing the water to surge around Sakura's knees. Tsunade leaned forward, closing the distance until Sakura could feel the warmth radiating from Tsunade's damp skin, smell the mingled scents of sweat, river water, and faint floral sent. Her honey-brown eyes burned, fierce and intense, locking onto Sakura's watery gaze. "You idiot girl," Tsunade growled, her gaze dropping pointedly to Sakura's own clenched fist resting on her submerged thigh. "That knuckle-headed fool doesn't see *breasts*." Her own hand shot out, startlingly fast, not touching Sakura, but gesturing sharply towards her torso. "He sees *this*!" Tsunade's finger stabbed the air inches from the defined ridges of Sakura's abdomen muscles. "The insane power you hammered into those fists!" Her gesture swept upwards towards Sakura's face. "*This*!" Her finger hovered near Sakura's temple. "The stubborn brilliance that mastered my seal!" Tsunade leaned closer still, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper, resonating deep in Sakura's chest. "He sees *you*, Sakura Haruno. The absolute, terrifying force of nature *you* became." Tsunade's fierce expression softened, almost imperceptibly. "The girl who never gives up." She leaned back slightly, her gaze unwavering. "Believe me," she added, a flicker of something complex – envy? respect? – crossing her own features. "He sees plenty." The intensity of Tsunade's stare pinned Sakura, stripping away the layers of doubt, leaving only the raw, unsettling truth hanging thickly in the humid air above the cool river.
The sudden silence was profound. Only the gentle rush of the river filled the space between them. Sakura blinked, absorbing Tsunade's words, the fierce affirmation echoing louder than her own doubts. Slowly, almost hesitantly, a flicker of understanding dawned in Sakura's wide green eyes. Tsunade's gaze softened further, a weary kind of acceptance settling over her features, stripping away the defiance. "Hmph," she breathed, a sigh that seemed to hold decades of loneliness and grief. She shifted slightly, the submerged rock scraping softly beneath her thigh. "Point is," Tsunade continued, her voice low, stripped bare, resonant with unexpected vulnerability, "I'm not giving up on Naruto either." Her honey-brown eyes met Sakura's squarely, unwavering. "Not ever." A beat of heavy silence stretched. "He's… mine too." The admission was raw, powerful, echoing Sakura's own fierce claim. Tsunade's lips curved into a faint, tired smirk, devoid of challenge, filled only with shared pain and determination. "But," she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper thick with shared longing and the ache of Naruto's absence, "*he's not here*." The finality hung in the humid air, heavy with yearning. "We'll figure it out," Tsunade murmured, her gaze drifting past Sakura towards the rushing water, "when that idiot finally drags himself home." She shifted again, the movement bringing her wet skin a fraction closer to Sakura's trembling form. "Until then…" Tsunade's eyes snapped back, blazing with sudden, reckless intent. "We distract each other." The words were a command, a plea, a desperate salve for the shared, gaping wound Naruto left behind. Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous, breathtakingly inviting smile. "Right now."
Before Sakura could gasp, Tsunade surged forward. No hesitation. Water surged violently as Tsunade's powerful body pressed flush against Sakura's, skin sliding against wet skin with shocking intimacy. Tsunade's bare breasts, impossibly soft and heavy, molded firmly against the lean planes of Sakura's chest. The sudden, full-body contact stole Sakura's breath – the heat radiating from Tsunade's core, the slick pressure against her stomach, the sheer overwhelming *presence* of the legendary Hokage pressing her back against the submerged rock. Tsunade's hands rose, dripping water, one cupping Sakura's jaw firmly, the other pressing flat against her lower back, pulling her impossibly closer. Then Tsunade's lips descended. Slowly. Passionately. Deliberately. They covered Sakura's parted mouth, sealing it with astonishing softness and heat. Sakura froze. Utterly. Completely. Her world narrowed to the shockingly soft pressure against her lips, the faint taste of river water and something uniquely *Tsunade* – sake and determination and ancient sorrow. Panic and confusion surged, icy cold. This… this was her *first* kiss. Ever. And it was Tsunade. Tsunade's tongue teased gently at the seam of her lips, seeking entry with a tenderness Sakura never imagined possible from the Slug Princess. Sakura's mind went blank. White noise screamed in her ears, drowning out the river. Inside her head, Inner Sakura didn't just gasp; she exploded. Cartoonish shock waves radiated from her silhouette, her eyes bulging comically wide, jaw hitting the floor of Sakura's mindscape with an audible *clang*, pink hair standing straight on end as she silently shrieked, arms flailing wildly like a malfunctioning windmill. *KISS?! TSUNADE-SENSEI?! LIPS?! WOMAN?! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTT?!* The sheer, absurd internal pandemonium mirrored Sakura's external paralysis perfectly.
Sensation flooded back, overwhelming and terrifying. The hot slide of Tsunade's tongue tracing her lower lip, seeking permission. The impossibly soft, yielding pressure against her mouth. The firm weight of Tsunade's breasts crushing against her own smaller ones, sending unfamiliar electric jolts arcing through her nerves. One of Tsunade's hands slid up Sakura's spine, fingers tangling roughly in her wet pink hair, pulling her head back slightly, deepening the kiss. Sakura moaned, a helpless, choked sound lost against Tsunade's lips. Her own hands, trapped awkwardly at her sides, trembled violently. The cool water lapping at her hips felt alien, distant. All she perceived was heat – Tsunade's heat, radiating through her skin, soaking into her bones, drowning the chilling shock. Tsunade's kiss wasn't demanding; it was coaxing, exploring, a slow, deliberate immersion in shared aching loneliness.
"Sssshhh," Tsunade breathed against Sakura's mouth, the syllable vibrating against Sakura's tingling lips. Her other hand moved down Sakura's waist, fingers pressing firmly into the dip above her hipbone. "Stop thinking." Tsunade shifted her weight, a subtle, powerful roll of her hips pressing her lower belly flush against Sakura's trembling stomach. Then, beneath the swirling water, came direct, undeniable contact: the hot, wet silk of Tsunade's pubic mound pressed firmly against Sakura's own untouched cleft.
Sakura gasped sharply, breaking the kiss, eyes flying wide with pure, unadulterated panic. "Tsunade-sensei!" The honorific was a strangled cry, laced with disbelief and burgeoning, terrifying arousal.
Tsunade's lips curved into a predatory smile against Sakura's flushed neck. "Too much?" she murmured, her voice thick, gravelly. Her hips rocked slightly, grinding slowly against Sakura's virgin flesh beneath the water, the slick friction sending sparks dancing behind Sakura's eyelids. Tsunade's breasts slid against hers with the movement, the heavy softness rolling and pressing, amplifying the dizzying intimacy. Inside Sakura's skull, Inner Sakura resembled a malfunctioning furnace valve. Jets of pure white steam erupted violently from her ears, whistling shrilly. Her eyes were wide, panicked spirals, tongue hanging out comically as she flapped her hands frantically. *VIRGIN PUSSY! DIRECT CONTACT! UNDENIABLE! SLIDING! UNDERWATER KISSING?! MADNESS! MELTDOWN IMMINENT! SYSTEMS FAILURE!*
Tsunade chuckled, a low vibration Sakura felt deep in her own chest. "Focus," Tsunade commanded softly, her lips brushing the shell of Sakura's ear, sending shivers cascading down her spine. "Focus on *this*." Tsunade's hand still tangled in Sakura's hair tightened possessively, anchoring her. Her hips rolled again, more deliberately this time, creating a slow, deep rhythm. The slick heat of Tsunade's sex slid firmly against Sakura's exposed folds beneath the water's surface, a startlingly intimate glide. Tsunade's thumb began tracing slow circles on Sakura's lower back, just above the waterline, a counterpoint to the relentless pressure below. "On the ache," Tsunade breathed, her own voice unsteady now, betraying a crack in her control. Sakura whimpered, her hands finally lifting, fingers hovering uncertainly near Tsunade's slick shoulders. The friction was unlike anything she'd ever imagined – liquid heat building, coiling low in her belly, demanding her surrender. Her small breasts felt hypersensitive beneath the constant, gentle abrasion of Tsunade's heavier curves. She could feel the pounding of Tsunade's heart against her own frantic pulse. "See?" Tsunade pressed her forehead against Sakura's temple, her breath hot and ragged. "Not alone." The words weren't just reassurance; they were a confession, shared agony transmuting into this desperate connection. Sakura's fingers finally touched Tsunade's shoulder blade, feather-light, tracing the powerful muscle beneath the wet skin. A hesitant, answering surrender.
"Good girl," Tsunade rasped, approval lacing the roughness. Her lips found Sakura's again, hotter, deeper, losing the earlier careful exploration. Sakura tentatively kissed back, mimicking the press and slide, her tongue shyly meeting Tsunade's questing one. The dual sensations consumed her: the demanding sweetness of Tsunade's mouth, and the increasingly insistent glide below. Tsunade's hips moved with more insistence, pressing harder, grinding that slick mound against Sakura's clitoris with devastating precision. A choked cry escaped Sakura, muffled by Tsunade's kiss. Pleasure, sharp and unfamiliar, lanced through her core, stealing her breath. Her hands clutched at Tsunade's shoulders now, nails digging into wet flesh. Tsunade moaned against her lips, the sound raw, approving. Her thigh slid forward, nudging Sakura's legs further apart beneath the water, opening her wider, deepening the contact. The friction intensified – wet silk against hypersensitive nerves, building pressure relentlessly. Sakura's world narrowed to the heat, the slide, the desperate cadence of Tsunade's thrusts against her, the overwhelming scent of skin and river and shared arousal. Tsunade broke the kiss, panting, her honey-brown eyes dark, pupils blown wide, fixed on Sakura's dazed expression. "Let it," she commanded, her voice ragged. "Just… let go." The relentless rhythm beneath the water continued, a primal counterpoint to Sakura's frantic heartbeat thundering in her ears.
Sakura gasped, her body arching instinctively towards Tsunade's pressure. "Tsunade-sensei… what… what are we *doing*?" The words trembled, half-protest, half-bewildered plea. Her hips betrayed her, grinding back against Tsunade's seeking heat, chasing the delicious friction building between her thighs. The water swirled around them, cool counterpoint to the furnace blooming inside Sakura.
Tsunade chuckled, low and throaty, her hand sliding down to grip Sakura's hipbone possessively, pulling her impossibly closer. Her thumb pressed hard into the soft flesh below Sakura's navel. "Distracting," she breathed, her lips brushing Sakura's cheekbone. "Remember?" Her hips rolled again, a deep, sinuous movement that dragged her pubic mound directly over Sakura's clitoris. Sakura cried out this time, sharp and sudden. Tsunade smirked, triumphant. "Good distraction?" Her voice was thick with arousal.
Panic warred with burgeoning ecstasy. "But Naruto!" Sakura choked out, her fingers tightening on Tsunade's shoulders. "What about Naruto? He… he's the one we both want!" The possessive declaration, echoing Tsunade's earlier words, spilled out unbidden.
Tsunade froze mid-thrust, her gaze snapping to Sakura's face. Intensity burned in her eyes, fierce and unwavering. A slow, knowing smirk spread across her lips, predatory and utterly captivating. "Yes we do," she echoed, the word resonating with profound weight. She leaned in until their foreheads almost touched, her breath hot on Sakura's lips. "Yes. We want to be with him. To be mine. To be yours." Her thumb pressed harder into Sakura's belly. "We both want him. Badly." The smirk deepened, becoming something dangerous, intimate. "But," Tsunade whispered, her hips resuming their slow, deliberate grind, the wet slide amplified by the confession, "I want *you* to, Sakura Haruno… almost… just… as much." Her hand slid further, fingers dipping beneath the waterline to trace the sensitive curve where Sakura's thigh met hip. "Right now."
The grinding intensified. Sakura whimpered, her head falling back against Tsunade's supporting arm. Tsunade's lips traced the frantic pulse point on Sakura's neck. Her voice, low and hypnotic, cut through the haze of pleasure and confusion. "So," Tsunade murmured, her words vibrating against Sakura's skin, resonant with the primal rhythm beneath the water, "What do you prefer?" A pause, heavy with implication. "When he returns…" Tsunade's hips surged forward, pressing deep, eliciting a sharp gasp from Sakura. "Shall we fight over him?" She punctuated the question with another deliberate roll of her hips. "Tear him apart with our demands?" Her tongue traced the shell of Sakura's ear. "Or…" Tsunade's voice dropped to a molten whisper, filled with promise, "*do we share him*?" Her free hand lifted Sakura's chin, forcing her dazed eyes to meet Tsunade's blazing gaze. "His strength?" Another slow, grinding thrust. "His warmth?" Her thumb brushed Sakura's lower lip. "*His devotion*?" Tsunade leaned in, her lips hovering a breath away. "Together. Me. You." Her words were fire, igniting impossible possibilities. "His Hokage… and his Kunoichi."
Sakura stared, utterly overwhelmed—by sensation, by implication, by the sheer audacity of Tsunade's proposition vibrating against her skin. Before conscious thought could form, before panic could crystallize, instinct seized control. With a choked cry that was half protest, half desperate affirmation, Sakura surged upwards. Her hands flew to Tsunade's jaw, fingers sinking into the wet skin, pulling her down with surprising strength. Sakura's mouth crashed onto Tsunade's—not hesitant mimicry this time, but raw, untutored passion unleashed. It was fierce, demanding, clumsy in its fervor. Sakura pressed forward, silencing questions, silencing doubts, silencing everything but the searing heat blooming between them. Tsunade froze for a split second, startled by the aggression, then met the assault with equal ferocity. Her lips parted, welcoming Sakura's invading tongue with a fierce groan. Hands tangled in wet hair, bodies strained together, mouths fused in a clash that was less kiss and more elemental collision—water splashed violently around them, soaking their faces, mingling with the ragged breaths forced from their lungs. Sakura poured every ounce of her bewildered longing, her fierce protectiveness over Naruto, her burgeoning desire for Tsunade, her sheer, terrified need for connection into that kiss. It was messy, desperate, and overwhelmingly intense.
Tsunade met every surge, her own kiss turning possessive, guiding, stoking the fire Sakura had unleashed. Time dissolved into the slick slide of tongues, the desperate clutch of fingers, the frantic mingling of breath and water.
Almost a minute later—an eternity of shared breath and bruising pressure—they tore apart, gasping. Water streamed down Sakura's face, plastering pink strands to her forehead and cheeks. Her chest heaved, lungs burning, lips tingling and swollen. Tsunade's gaze was molten, predatory, lips parted and slick. Sakura's wide, dazed eyes dropped, pulled irresistibly downwards. Tsunade's magnificent breasts were right there, pressed flush against her own smaller chest. Water droplets clung like diamonds to the smooth, peach-toned skin, tracing the impossibly generous curves, glistening on the hardened peaks of her nipples. The sheer size, the perfect fullness—the envy of every woman in Konoha, Sakura knew. Envy she'd felt herself a thousand times, gazing at Tsunade-sama across the Hokage's desk. A pang of familiar, sharp longing pierced her confusion, mingling with the dizzying arousal. *Those…* Sakura's breath hitched. *The breasts every girl dreams of…* Including herself. Especially herself.
Inside Sakura's mindscape, Inner Sakura didn't just react; she erupted. Cartoonish hearts exploded from her silhouette like fireworks, filling the psychic space with shimmering pink orbs. Her eyes transformed into gigantic, pulsing hearts, pupils replaced by glittering stars. A bubble speech balloon appeared over her head, containing only a silent, ecstatic scream: "**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!**" Her arms flailed wildly in beatific rapture. *THE TWINS! THE LEGENDARY TWINS! SHE'S LETTING ME TOUCH THEM?! SHE'S LETTING ME *KISS* THEM?!* Sakura's trembling hands lifted slowly, hovering inches from Tsunade's slick skin.
Tsunade watched her, a faint, understanding smirk playing on her kiss-swollen lips. Slowly, deliberately, Tsunade arched her back slightly, pushing her magnificent chest forward—an explicit, breathtaking invitation. Sakura's gaze snapped back to Tsunade's face, seeking permission, seeking guidance. Tsunade gave a single, infinitesimal nod, her honey-brown eyes dark with shared hunger. *Go on.* It was all the encouragement Sakura needed. Her touch, when it finally landed, was feather-light at first, tracing the water-slicked curve where the swell met her sternum. The skin was impossibly soft, yielding beneath her fingertips, yet radiating intense heat. A soft, shuddering sigh escaped Sakura's lips. She might not have her own legendary bounty, but here… now… Tsunade was offering hers. Sakura leaned in, her lips parting. She pressed a soft, trembling kiss to the upper swell, tasting river water and Tsunade's unique scent—sake, determination, sorrow, and now, undeniable arousal. She lingered, inhaling deeply. Then, emboldened, her tongue darted out, tracing a slow, wet path along the same curve she'd kissed. The salty-sweet taste exploded on her senses.
Tsunade hissed softly above her, fingers tightening almost painfully in Sakura's wet hair. Sakura shifted her focus, drawn inexorably towards the hardened peak. Her mouth closed over Tsunade's left nipple, sucking gently, experimentally. The reaction was electric: Tsunade gasped, her body jerking against Sakura's.
Sakura felt the nipple harden further against her tongue, the texture fascinatingly rough-smooth. She began to suckle in earnest, one hand cupping the impossibly heavy weight of the breast, supporting it, feeling the soft flesh spill over her fingers. The other hand instinctively found its twin, fingers kneading gently, exploring the resilient softness. Sakura's world narrowed to sensation: the fullness against her palm, the heat against her lips, the rhythmic pulse she felt against her tongue, the ragged sound of Tsunade's breathing filling her ears.
Inner Sakura had ascended; she was a floating cloud of hearts and stars, singing hymns to Tsunade's bosom. Sakura moaned around the nipple, the vibration sending another jolt through Tsunade, whose hips instinctively ground against Sakura's thigh. Sakura switched breasts, lavishing the same ardent attention on the right nipple, kissing, licking, sucking with growing confidence and fervor. Her tongue circled the areola, then dipped into the sensitive valley beneath the breast, exploring every nuance of skin texture and taste.
Tsunade's moans deepened, becoming guttural, her fingers losing their grip in Sakura's hair only to slide down her back, nails scraping lightly over wet skin. "Y-yes," Tsunade rasped, her voice thick and breathless, "Just… like that." The permission, the encouragement—it shattered Sakura's last shreds of inhibition. She worshipped Tsunade's breasts, kissing, licking, sucking with abandon, her own arousal a throbbing counterpoint beneath the water's surface, forgotten in the overwhelming intimacy of the moment. She could spend hours here, lost in the twin sensations of softness and heat, the taste of Tsunade imprinted on her tongue. Time dissolved into the rhythm of suckling lips and ragged breaths, the cool water forgotten against the furnace ignited by Sakura's desperate devotion.
"Enough… teasing," Tsunade gasped suddenly, her hips grinding harder against Sakura's thigh again, seeking friction she couldn't fully find submerged. Her hands slid down Sakura's back, gripping her hips possessively. "Look at me," she commanded, her voice rough with need. Sakura reluctantly pulled her mouth away, lips swollen and slick, her gaze lifting to meet Tsunade's blazing honey-brown eyes, darkened with pure lust. "Push them," Tsunade breathed, a daring challenge glinting in her pupils. "Harder than that. Don't just taste them, *claim* them." Her own hands moved upwards, framing her magnificent breasts, offering them fully. "Show me," Tsunade urged, her voice dropping to a molten whisper, "Show me how badly you want *this*."
Instinctively, Sakura's trembling hands slid upwards, fingers sinking into the impossibly soft flesh surrounding Tsunade's nipples. She hesitated for only a heartbeat, mesmerized by the dark hunger in Tsunade's gaze. Then, with a surge of boldness fueled by desire and Tsunade's explicit command, Sakura pressed firmly inward. She pushed Tsunade's full breasts together, molding them into a breathtakingly lush pillow of flesh until both areolas brushed against each other. The sheer weight, the yielding softness resisting her push, the slickness of wet skin against skin—it was overwhelming. Before Tsunade could react, Sakura leaned forward, her mouth opening wide. She enveloped both hardened peaks at once, sucking fiercely, her tongue swirling over the sensitive tips where they pressed close together.
A sharp, choked gasp tore from Tsunade's throat—half pain, half pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Her head snapped back, tendons straining in her neck as she instinctively arched her spine, pushing her chest forward into Sakura's demanding mouth. Her teeth clenched tight, grinding against the intensity coursing through her. "Fuck!" she hissed through gritted teeth, the word a guttural explosion of pleasure. Her fingers clawed into Sakura's shoulders, desperate for purchase. Waves of sensation rolled through her—the dual suction, the rough-slick rasp of Sakura's tongue against both hypersensitive nodes simultaneously, the insistent pressure of Sakura's palms compressing her breasts together—it was a sensory assault Tsunade had never imagined, concentrated and utterly devastating. Her hips bucked wildly against Sakura's thigh, seeking any anchor amidst the storm. "Don't… stop," Tsunade commanded raggedly, her voice thick and trembling, her eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught. "Never…stop."
Inside Sakura's mindscape, Inner Sakura was a whirlwind of manic energy. Clad in shimmering crimson and gold spandex, pom-poms flashing violently, she bounced on glittering stilettos. "*GO SAKURA GO!*" she screamed, stars exploding around her head. "*SUCK THOSE LEGENDS! MAKE HER SCREAM! YOU GOT THIS, CHAMP! WRING OUT EVERY DROP!*" Her imaginary pom-poms shook furiously, urging Sakura deeper, harder. "*YES! LIKE THAT! SHOW THOSE TWINS WHO'S BOSS! THEY'RE YOURS NOW! CLAIM THEM!*"
Sakura obeyed with ferocious focus. Her cheeks hollowed dramatically as she sucked harder, pulling Tsunade's nipples deep into the wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue worked frantically, swirling and flicking between the trapped peaks, the rough texture scraping deliciously. She applied pressure with her palms, rhythmically squeezing Tsunade's magnificent breasts together and then relaxing just enough before pressing again, creating a pulsing rhythm against her tongue and lips.
Tsunade's moans escalated—high, keening sounds escaping her clenched teeth—as her thighs trembled violently. Her hips rolled instinctively, grinding her soaked folds desperately against Sakura's slick, submerged thigh. The friction was electric but maddeningly indirect; she needed *more*. With a low, desperate growl, Tsunade's hands shot down Sakura's back, fingers digging into the swell of her hips. She hauled Sakura upwards and *inwards* with shocking strength, their bodies slickly grinding against each other in the water. Tsunade shifted, spreading her legs wider, hooking one powerful thigh over Sakura's hip. Then, with a single, decisive thrust, she slammed her pelvis forward, pressing her hot, swollen mound flush against Sakura's untouched core—skin-to-skin, slick heat meeting trembling virgin flesh. The contact was immediate, intense, a jolt of pure sensation. Tsunade gasped, her eyes flying open wide, pupils blown black with raw need. "Feel that?" she rasped, her voice ragged, her breath hot against Sakura's forehead. Her hips began a slow, deliberate grind, the swollen bud of her clit rubbing directly against Sakura's equally sensitive nub. "Feel me… cumming… because of *you*... sucking me…"
Tsunade's grinding intensified instantly, becoming hard, fast, rhythmic thrusts. Her slick folds slid hotly against Sakura's virgin entrance, teasing, demanding entry with each forward surge while the hard nub of her clit dragged over Sakura's own, sending sharp jolts of unbearable pleasure-pain through them both. Tsunade's grip on Sakura's hips became iron-tight, forcing the younger kunoichi's body to move in sync with her own frantic rhythm. The dual sensations—Sakura's relentless suckling on her nipples combined with the fierce, wet friction grinding against her core—built the pressure inside Tsunade to a shattering crescendo. Her moans transformed into raw, ragged cries, echoing off the cavern walls. Her thighs clenched impossibly tighter around Sakura's waist. "YES! FUCK! SAKURA!" Tsunade screamed, her body locking into a violent arch, every muscle straining taut as steel cable. Her hips pistoned forward one final, brutal time, pressing her pussy impossibly tighter against Sakura's, grinding deep. A guttural, primal sound ripped from her throat as the orgasm detonated—waves of intense, pulsing pleasure radiating outwards from her core, crashing through her belly, tightening her breasts still trapped in Sakura's mouth, and exploding like supernovas behind her eyelids. Her pelvic muscles contracted violently around nothing, milking the intense release, slickness flooding between their pressed bodies as she convulsed against Sakura, riding the relentless waves. Her fingers dug bruisingly into Sakura's hips, anchoring herself as she shook, gasping, "Yesssss… Gods… Yessss…" Her voice was utterly wrecked, breathless, filled with awe and the sheer, overwhelming force of her climax triggered entirely by Sakura's mouth.
The sudden flood of slick heat against Sakura's untouched core, combined with Tsunade's violent convulsions and the raw ferocity of her screams, tore through Sakura's own building arousal like wildfire. Sakura whimpered around Tsunade's nipple—a muffled, desperate sound—her own hips instinctively bucking against Tsunade's grinding pressure, chasing the friction that was suddenly overwhelming. Tsunade's tightening thigh clamped hard over Sakura's hip, forcing her deeper against the wet slide. The sensation of Tsunade's swollen clit grinding directly against hers, slick and demanding, fused with the rhythmic sucking and kneading Sakura was still performing on Tsunade's breasts. Sakura's eyes flew wide, pupils blown black with stunned, escalating need. Her inner muscles clenched wildly, desperately, around nothing, aching for the pressure and fullness Tsunade's thrusting promised but couldn't yet deliver. A low, trembling moan escaped Sakura's throat, vibrating against Tsunade's sensitive skin. She sucked even harder, frantic now, her tongue swirling wildly over both nipples trapped in her mouth as if trying to consume the source of Tsunade's pleasure. The coil in her own belly tightened impossibly further, every nerve ending screaming.
Inner Sakura wasn't bouncing anymore; she was a supernova of pure, incandescent NEED. Eyes wide, mouth agape in a silent scream of ecstatic agony, she vibrated violently within the mindscape, fists clenched, shimmering pink energy radiating outwards in waves. "*NOW! SHE'S CUMMING! SHE'S CUMMING HARD! MAKE HER FEEL YOU TOO! SHOW HER! SHOW HER WHAT SHE DOES TO YOU! CUMMMMM!*"
The internal scream, combined with Tsunade's heavy-lidded, predatory gaze locking onto hers—seeing the desperate confusion, the raw hunger—and the relentless, slick grinding against her hypersensitive clit, shattered Sakura's last shred of control. She tore her mouth away from Tsunade's breasts with a ragged gasp, lips swollen, slick with saliva and river water. "Ts-Tsuna—" The plea choked off as Tsunade's grinding hips hit the perfect angle, pressing deep and hard. Sakura's body bowed backwards violently, a choked scream tearing from her throat—high, sharp, and utterly involuntary. Her orgasm ripped through her like a kunai, unexpected and brutal. Electric sparks exploded behind her eyes, blinding her. Her core convulsed violently, inner muscles clamping down on emptiness in frantic, rhythmic pulses, a hot flood of wetness gushing uncontrollably against Tsunade's still-moving mound. Her arms flew around Tsunade's neck, clinging desperately as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her beneath the water, her entire body trembling violently from the sheer, overwhelming force of the release—a virgin climax triggered solely by Tsunade's body, Tsunade's command, Tsunade's own powerful orgasm grinding against her. "Hnnnnngh! AAAAH!" Sakura cried out, her voice breaking, tears pricking her eyes as the waves washed over her, leaving her gasping and shuddering against Tsunade's sweat-slicked skin.
Tsunade watched Sakura unravel with fierce, possessive satisfaction, her own breathing still ragged but slowing. She kept her hips moving in slow, deliberate circles now, prolonging the aftershocks for both of them, the slick slide between them mingling their releases. Her thumb brushed roughly over Sakura's trembling lower lip. "Good girl," Tsunade murmured, her voice low and thick with sated lust, the predatory edge softened only slightly by genuine triumph. "That sound… that desperate, beautiful scream… That was all mine." She leaned in, capturing Sakura's swollen lips in a hard, claiming kiss, tasting salt tears. Her free hand slid possessively down Sakura's spine to cup her ass, pulling her impossibly closer. "Now," Tsunade breathed against Sakura's mouth, her honey-brown eyes gleaming with renewed, dangerous intent. "Let's see what other sounds I can rip from you. Starting *here*." Her fingers dipped lower, tracing the slick seam between Sakura's trembling thighs, bypassing the soaked curls and pressing firmly, deliberately, against Sakura's untouched, hypersensitive entrance.
Sakura gasped sharply into the kiss, her body jerking at the intimate contact—a promise, a demand, and the terrifying, thrilling beginning of what came next.
"Easy," Tsunade murmured against her lips, pulling back just enough to see the wide-eyed panic mixed with desperate yearning in Sakura's gaze. "Stop thinking. Just *feel*." Her fingers, slick with river water and Sakura's own release, traced slow, deliberate circles around the tight furl of Sakura's entrance, applying pressure without penetration, letting the pad of her thumb brush lightly against Sakura's swollen clit instead. The sensation was electric, immediate—Sakura whimpered, her hips instinctively lifting off the rocky riverbed towards Tsunade's touch. "Is this what you wanted?" Tsunade breathed, her voice low and rough, filling the humid cave air. "When you begged to be my disciple? To learn *everything* I know?" Her thumb pressed down harder, rubbing firm circles now, the nub beneath it hot and pulsing. "Tell me. Tell me *now*."
"I—" Sakura choked out, her voice trembling as Tsunade's thumb pressed relentlessly, sending shivers of pure, aching pleasure-pain radiating up her spine. "I didn't— Didn't know it would be—" Her words dissolved into a sharp cry as Tsunade slid one finger lower, gathering slickness, and pressed the thick, blunt tip firmly *against* her untouched entrance. Not inside. Just *there*. The pressure was immense, demanding, a promise and a threat fused into one. "Please," Sakura gasped, the plea ripped from her throat, her hips lifting helplessly off the rocky riverbed against Tsunade's hand, seeking more. "Please, Lady Tsunade—"
Tsunade's low chuckle vibrated against Sakura's water-slicked shoulder. "Begging already?" she murmured, her voice thick with dark amusement. Her hand shifted abruptly. Instead of entering, she hooked her fingers under Sakura's thighs, her strength undeniable. "Up," she commanded, hauling Sakura's hips higher, her legs draping over Tsunade's powerful shoulders. Before Sakura could register the shift, Tsunade surged forward, dragging Sakura's body towards the shallower water near the rocky shore. "Lie back," Tsunade ordered, her voice leaving no room for hesitation as she guided Sakura firmly down onto her back against the smooth, submerged stones. Cold rock met Sakura's heated skin, a startling contrast. Water lapped at Sakura's ribs and shoulders while Tsunade loomed above her, honey-brown eyes gleaming with predatory intent. "Spread," Tsunade breathed, the word a command disguised as silk. Her hands slid down Sakura's inner thighs, pressing them wide open, exposing Sakura's flushed, dripping core completely to the afternoon air. Sakura whimpered, instinctively trying to close her legs, but Tsunade pinned her thighs apart with effortless strength. "Good girl," Tsunade purred, the approval rough-edged. "Keep them just like that."
With shocking fluidity, Tsunade spun herself backwards. One powerful leg swung over Sakura's shoulders, her muscular thigh pressing against Sakura's cheekbone. Then she lowered herself, slow and deliberate, her weight settling fully onto Sakura's face. Sakura gasped beneath the sudden intimacy, her vision filled with the swollen, glistening folds of Tsunade's pussy hovering inches from her mouth. The scent was overpowering—musky, primal, mixed with river water—and Sakura instinctively inhaled, her body trembling. Before she could process it further, Tsunade leaned forward, her torso draping heavily over Sakura's stomach and chest. Sakura felt the crushing softness of Tsunade's magnificent breasts pressing against her abdomen. Then, Tsunade's head descended. Sakura felt the hot puff of Tsunade's breath against her own slick mound, followed by the unmistakable, wet pressure of Tsunade's tongue—broad, demanding—laving a hot stripe directly from Sakura's trembling entrance up to her throbbing clit. Sakura cried out, the sound muffled against Tsunade's thigh. "Taste me," Tsunade commanded, her voice thick and slightly distorted against Sakura's flesh. "Now."
Sakura obeyed. Hesitantly at first, her tongue flicked out, tracing the slick seam above her. The taste was tangy, rich, utterly foreign. Tsunade groaned above her, the vibration sending shivers through Sakura's core. Emboldened, Sakura pressed her mouth fully against Tsunade's folds, parting them with her lips and tongue. She explored tentatively—the soft inner lips, the harder ridge beneath—before finding the swollen, hardened nub of Tsunade's clit. She circled it cautiously with the tip of her tongue.
Tsunade gasped, her hips grinding down against Sakura's face. "Fuck yes," Tsunade hissed, her own tongue plunging deep into Sakura's entrance without warning.
The dual sensations slammed into Sakura like a tidal wave: the hot, wet invasion inside her, stretching her untouched walls deliciously, fused with the fierce suction Tsunade applied to her clit. Sakura moaned, the sound vibrating against Tsunade's core. She mirrored Tsunade's action, sucking Tsunade's clit fiercely into her mouth, her tongue swirling frantically around the hardened peak.
Above her, Tsunade groaned long and low, her tongue pistoning in and out of Sakura's tightness, mimicking a relentless rhythm that set Sakura's nerves ablaze. Wet sounds filled the riverbank —lapping, sucking, desperate breaths—as they moved against each other, tongues and hips working in a desperate, synchronized rhythm, each stroke feeding the other's escalating, shared fire.
Sakura whimpered around Tsunade's clit, trembling beneath her. The dual sensations—Tsunade's hot, wet tongue plunging deep inside her, stretching sensitive walls untouched by any intrusion, fused with the fierce suction Sakura applied to Tsunade's swollen peak—sent sparks dancing across her vision. Her hips bucked helplessly against Tsunade's face, desperate for more pressure, deeper friction. Tsunade's answering groan vibrated against Sakura's clit, intensifying the suction. Then, Tsunade shifted subtly—her tongue probing deeper, higher—and the slick tip found a different resistance, a hidden ridge Sakura hadn't known existed. It wasn't broken, just brushed against, teased—a feather-light touch that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to Sakura's core. "Fuck," Sakura gasped, pulling away from Tsunade's clit for a desperate breath. "Tsunade-sama— *there*!"
Tsunade's response was immediate, muffled against Sakura's wetness but thick with command. "Then grab me, girl," she growled, her breath hot. "Take what you want!"
Driven beyond rational thought, Sakura reached up. Her hands, slick with river water and sweat, slid over the powerful curve of Tsunade's hips, past her waist, and gripped Tsunade's magnificent ass cheeks—full, heavy globes of muscle and softness—digging her fingers deep into the yielding flesh. She pulled Tsunade down hard against her face, forcing her mouth tighter onto Tsunade's clit just as Tsunade pressed forward, deliberately angling her tongue tip to brush that delicate barrier inside Sakura again—not piercing, just grazing the taut, virgin ring with exquisite pressure. "YES!" Sakura screamed, the sound muffled completely against Tsunade's dripping pussy. Her body convulsed violently upwards, inner muscles clamping down impossibly tight around Tsunade's invading tongue in frantic, pulsing spasms. A hot flood of wetness surged forth, pouring directly into Tsunade's waiting mouth. Simultaneously, Inner Sakura exploded within—a silent, radiant supernova. Pink chakra flared like ephemeral wings behind Sakura's closed eyelids; her mental eyes rolled back, hearts pulsing wildly, her phantom tongue lolling out in ecstatic abandon. "*CUMMMMMMING! FILL HER! MAKE HER SCREAM!*" the inner voice shrieked in triumphant agony.
The sudden clench around her tongue, the gushing heat filling her mouth, and Sakura's desperate scream vibrating against her core ripped Tsunade's own climax from her in a guttural roar. Her hips slammed down onto Sakura's face, grinding fiercely. "TAKE IT!" she bellowed, bucking wildly. A powerful jet of liquid warmth flooded Sakura's already overwhelmed mouth—salty, thick, tasting faintly of iron and musk—as Tsunade's body shook uncontrollably above her, riding the crashing waves with deep, shuddering moans that echoed Sakura's own muffled cries.
Panting heavily, slick skin gleaming under the tree's filtered light, Tsunade slowly peeled herself off Sakura's trembling form. She rose, a goddess of sweat and river water, and moved towards their discarded clothes piled near the water's edge. Sakura watched through half-closed eyes, her body still buzzing with aftershocks, as Tsunade's powerful hips swayed with each deliberate step, the muscles in her back and ass flexing hypnotically. *Damn, Hime! Look at that* move! *Squishy-squishy victory parade!* Inner Sakura whistled appreciatively, her phantom eyes wide.
Tsunade bent fluidly at the waist, her magnificent ass presented fully, and retrieved her crumpled pants from the pile. She pulled a small sealing scroll from a hidden pocket. With a deft flick of chakra-infused fingers, the scroll unfurled. A puff of smoke dissipated, revealing a thick, gleaming creation of dark violet rubber – twelve inches long, unnervingly curved, and unmistakably double-headed. Tsunade didn't hesitate. One hand slid briefly between her legs, gathering slickness, then guided one bulbous end deep into her still-quivering core with a low groan. It slid smoothly, vanishing inside her until only the imposing middle shaft and the other bulbous head remained, jutting obscenely outwards.
As Tsunade turned, Sakura's breath hitched. Her gaze snapped from the hypnotic sway of Tsunade's retreating hips to the impossible sight now confronting her: the thick, violet column extending boldly from Tsunade's flushed folds, glistening and utterly demanding attention. Sakura's blush ignited anew, spreading down her neck to her chest. *EEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!* Inner Sakura's shriek was pure cartoonish panic, her mental eyes bulging comically out of her skull on imaginary springs, jaw hitting the floorboards of Sakura's mindscape. *STICKY SPIDER LEGS! JUMPING JIRAIYA! WHAT IS THAT THING DOING HERE?! IT'S LOOKING AT ME! IT'S LOOKING AT MEEEEE!*
Tsunade smirked, catching Sakura's horrified fascination. Her hand rested possessively on the base of the protruding shaft. "Still think you can handle *everything* I know, apprentice?" she challenged, her voice husky and thick with unspent desire. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, the dildo swaying slightly with her movement. "Or should we test your limits?" Her free hand traced the slick length of the violet shaft, a silent, terrifying promise hanging heavy in the humid air. Sakura could only stare, wide-eyed, her throat dry, Inner Sakura still gibbering incoherently somewhere deep within.
With effortless grace, Tsunade knelt astride Sakura's trembling thighs once more, her damp skin radiating heat. She leaned forward, her magnificent breasts brushing against Sakura's flushed chest, her weight pinning Sakura firmly against the cool river stones. Tsunade's lips found Sakura's ear, her breath hot as she whispered, low and conspiratorially, "Six inches… barely a taste, girl." Her tongue traced the shell of Sakura's ear, sending shivers down her spine. "Imagine Naruto-kun… untamed, explosive… fuelled by that Uzumaki stamina." Tsunade chuckled, a darkly amused sound. "*Far* bigger than this toy's half sides… thick as a hero's fist."
Inside Sakura's mind, Inner Sakura's panic screeched to a halt. Her wide mental eyes blinked. *Bigger… than… six inches?* A slow, dreamy grin spread across Inner Sakura's face, replacing the panic. *Thick… as… Naruto-kun's… fist?* Her pupils dilated, becoming shimmering hearts. "*YESSSS,*" Inner Sakura breathed, her phantom body swaying. "*Show me! Show me NOW! Gimme-gimme-gimme that knotted tree trunk!*" Then, with a blissful sigh and a cascade of tiny pink bubbles escaping her lips, Inner Sakura's eyes rolled back. She crumpled gracefully onto the mental floorboards, out cold, her smile enormous and beatific, soft giggles bubbling up as she murmured, "*Orange… sunshine… dick… heeheehee…*"
Tsunade didn't hesitate. Guided by Sakura's slick arousal – a mixture of fear, lingering ecstasy, and the potent image Tsunade had planted – her hand shifted lower. One slick finger trailed down Sakura's trembling belly, bypassing her swollen clit, and pressed firmly against her virgin entrance, now impossibly sensitive after their shared climax. Then, with agonizing slowness and unyielding pressure, Tsunade pushed the thick, bulbous head of the cold violet rubber deep into Sakura's tight heat. Sakura gasped, a sharp inhale ripped from her throat as her body instinctively clenched, resisting the impossible intrusion. The stretch was immense, burning, terrifyingly full. Tsunade pushed relentlessly forward, inch by slick inch, the cool rubber a stark contrast to Sakura's inner fire, filling her until the unforgiving shaft met the taut, untouched barrier deep within Sakura's core. Tsunade paused there, a fraction away from penetration, her breath ragged against Sakura's neck, the dildo buried to its midpoint. "*There*," Tsunade hissed, the word vibrating with primal satisfaction. "*Your first true lesson begins.*" Sakura trembled beneath her, pinned, stretched impossibly wide, suspended on the razor's edge between agony and a terrifyingly unfamiliar precipice of pleasure.
"Focus, apprentice," Tsunade commanded, her voice rough and thick with her own arousal. Her free hand tangled roughly in Sakura's damp pink hair, pulling her head up with surprising tenderness. Before Sakura could protest, Tsunade's lips crashed down onto hers again – not gentle, not questioning, but a raw, claiming kiss that stole Sakura's breath. Tsunade's tongue invaded Sakura's mouth just as fiercely as the toy threatened her entrance below, tasting of salt, musk, iron, and Sakura herself. "*Yes*," Tsunade groaned directly into Sakura's mouth, her hips pulling back just a fraction. The sudden withdrawal of pressure inside Sakura was a fleeting relief instantly replaced by aching emptiness. Tsunade's powerful thighs tightened around Sakura's hips. "*NOW!*" With a guttural cry, Tsunade slammed her hips forward with impossible force. The thick violet shaft plunged deep, tearing through Sakura's final resistance – a sharp, blinding burst of pain that vanished almost instantly beneath the overwhelming fullness, the sensation of being utterly speared, claimed, *filled*. Simultaneously, Tsunade's slick, swollen folds slammed hard against Sakura's own wet, trembling mound. Their clits collided – a hot, electric spark igniting instantly at the violent, intimate contact – pressed together in a slick grind as Tsunade pinned Sakura completely, buried to the hilt. A shared gasp tore from their fused mouths.
The impact reverberated through Sakura's entire being – agony transformed instantly into pure, shocking sensation. The deep, throbbing ache of penetration blended seamlessly with the fierce friction grinding her exposed clit against Tsunade's own slick hardness.
Tsunade remained motionless for a single, excruciating heartbeat, buried impossibly deep inside Sakura, their mouths still fused in a desperate kiss. Sakura could feel Tsunade's rapid heartbeat hammering against her own chest, felt the tremors running through Tsunade's powerful legs where they trapped her own. The cool rubber inside her burned now, impossibly thick, stretching her inner walls beyond anything she'd imagined. The sharp sting was gone, replaced by a deep, radiating fullness that somehow sang along her nerves. Above her, Tsunade broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to meet Sakura's wide, dazed eyes. Honey-brown locked onto emerald green. Tsunade's lips were swollen, slick. "*Feel it?*" she rasped, her voice thick, low. "*That fullness? That heat? That's power, Sakura. Pure, undiluted.*" A predatory smile curved her lips. "*And it's only the beginning.*" Her hips began a slow, deliberate roll, grinding their clits fiercely together even as the thick shaft inside Sakura shifted minutely, dragging against newly awakened nerves deep within.
Tsunade's slow grind was torture and ecstasy fused. The thick violet shaft dragged relentlessly inside Sakura's stretched depths – the cool rubber now burning hot with friction, every ridge, every subtle curve scraping deliciously against hypersensitive flesh screaming with new sensation. Simultaneously, Tsunade's slick, hardened clit ground against Sakura's own swollen peak in a relentless, circular motion, sending sparks of pure electricity shooting up Sakura's spine with each rotation. "*Move with me, girl,*" Tsunade growled, her voice rough-edged command. "*Hips up. Meet my rhythm.*"
Sakura obeyed instinctively, tremblingly lifting her hips off the cold stone. Her inner thighs burned with the effort, but the slight shift intensified everything. The drag inside became deeper, fuller; the pressure grinding against her clit became almost unbearable. Tsunade's groan was low and approving as Sakura's body yielded, adjusting to the dual assault.
Tsunade increased her pace, her powerful hips pistoning faster now, driving the thick shaft deep with every forward thrust while maintaining the fierce, slick grind against Sakura's clit on every retreat. Wet, slapping sounds filled the humid air – skin on skin, rubber on wet flesh – mingling with Sakura's sharp gasps and Tsunade's ragged breaths.
Sakura felt herself unraveling again, a terrifyingly fast ascent fueled by the brutal invasion below and the exquisite friction above. "*T-Tsunade-sama!*" Sakura choked out, her hands scrabbling helplessly against Tsunade's sweat-slick back. "*I can't… I'm… too much…!*"
Tsunade's answering laugh was dark, triumphant, her eyes blazing. "*Too much?*" she purred, her hips snapping forward with brutal force, burying the toy impossibly deep, grinding their clits together fiercely. "*This is just the* appetizer, *girl. Medicine isn't gentle—it's invasive, precise, and it *hurts* until it heals.*" She kissed Sakura again, hard and demanding, silencing her gasp. Tsunade's tongue dominated Sakura's mouth, a wet, claiming invasion that mirrored the deep, stretching fullness below. "*Breathe through it,*" she ordered against Sakura's lips, her voice rough velvet. "*Focus on the friction, the heat—how every nerve is screaming YES beneath the ache.*"
Sakura slid her trembling hands down Tsunade's sweat-slick back, her fingers tracing the powerful muscles rippling beneath skin slick with exertion and river spray. She gripped Tsunade's magnificent ass with both hands, fingers sinking deep into the yielding, impossibly soft flesh. "*Hnngh!*" Tsunade gasped against Sakura's mouth, arching her back instinctively. "*Good girl… Now use it!*" Tsunade snarled, locking her powerful hands onto Sakura's shoulders. "*Push me UP! Fuck me* harder!" Her G-cup breasts bounced wildly with each upward thrust Sakura powered, immense weight swinging heavily, nipples brushing Sakura's chest like scorching brands. The thick violet shaft plunged relentlessly deep, stretching Sakura's core impossibly wide on every upward surge, the cool rubber burning with friction.
Sakura screamed, a raw, primal sound ripped from her throat, echoing off the riverbank stones. "*TSUNNNAAAAAAADEEEEE!*" Her inner walls clenched violently around the invading shaft, a sudden, vise-like pressure radiating pure electric agony-pleasure. Simultaneously, Tsunade slammed her hips down with bone-jarring force, grinding her clit fiercely against Sakura's own throbbing peak just as Sakura's climax detonated—a supernova of pure sensation, brighter and sharper than before. Pleasure tore through her like a hurricane, shaking her entire frame, tears leaking from her clenched eyes.
Tsunade roared, a gutteral sound ripped from deep within her chest. "*YEEEEEEESSSS!*" She pounded down again, savage and final, grinding her hips fiercely against Sakura's convulsing mound, her own climax crashing over her with terrifying force. Her inner muscles clenched rhythmically around her half of the toy, phantom contractions wrenching desperate groans from her throat. Honey-brown eyes rolled back, head thrown back in ecstasy as her magnificent breasts heaved violently with each deep gasp. "*TAKE IT ALL!*" she commanded hoarsely, riding Sakura's trembling form relentlessly through the aftershocks, the thick violet shaft still buried deep, pulsing with the echoes of their shared devastation. Wetness slicked their thighs anew, hot and mingled. Tsunade collapsed forward slightly, chest heaving against Sakura's, her forehead resting against Sakura's shoulder, breath ragged and hot on damp skin. "*That," she gasped, "...was the *hardest* lesson yet.*"