A slow smile curled the corner of my lips.
The moment the tip of my cock pressed against her entrance, her asshole winked—a tight, involuntary spasm. Or perhaps it was voluntary, you never knew with her. Her smooth cunt twitched, glistening folds clenching around nothing before releasing a slow, obscene trickle of arousal.
Thick.
Thicker than any woman I'd ever had.
Not the usual slickness, but denser — like honey. Thick, viscous, a shade deeper than clear, stringing between her thighs as it dripped onto the floor.
Anko peered over her shoulder, violet ponytail swaying "Did that bitch Tsume wiggle her ass like this for you?" she taunted, her voice still hoarse from throatfucking as if to demonstrate, wiggled her hips, exaggerated, teasing. "Or was she too busy howling like one of her mutts?"
I exhaled sharply — half exasperation, half fondness — before bringing my palm down on her ass in a sharp crack!
Anko gasped, her back arching, but her smirk only widened.
I palmed her ass. Firm. But… her hips not as wide as Kushina's. Understandable. Kushina had given birth. A mother's body, built differently.
Ah shit. I needed to stop comparing everything to Kushina. Especially when I was with another woman. She simply wouldn't leave my mind.
I licked my lips, savoring the sight before me. Then I moved.
Grabbing both her wrists, I yanked them back hard. Anko lost her balance with a startled yelp, her support ripped away as her face hit the floor with a soft thud.
"Oof—classy," Anko snorted, her voice muffled against the ground. "Real romantic, stud. At least buy me dinner first."
Even with her ass raised in the air, vulnerable, she still ran her mouth.
Using the belt from her overcoat, I twisted her arms behind her back, securing her wrists with a firm knot. She was Tokubetsu Jōnin — if she wanted to break free, she would.
But she wouldn't.
Anko loved this.
Now, bound and presented, her ass lifted, back arched, and her head pressed to the floor, she trembled in anticipation.
I leaned in close, my breath ghosting over her ear as the swollen tip of my cock nudged against her drenched entrance. She shivered.
"Welcome home," I murmured.
Then, in one swift motion, I drove my hips forward, sinking into her with a single, deep thrust.
Anko's back bowed violently, a choked gasp tearing from her throat as I sheathed myself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. Her walls clenched around me, fluttering, her slickness so thick it was almost sticky, coating my length in heat.
For a moment, she didn't speak. I gave her pussy time to remember. She just panted, her breath ragged, her fingers twitching in their restraints. Then, when she finally caught her breath, her lips curled into a rare smile.
"I'm home," she purred.
I kissed the sharp curve of Anko's cheekbone — an oddly tender gesture amidst the roughness— before pulling back. My hands slid down, securing my grip on her hips. Her supple flesh hot under my palms, the muscles in her waist flexing.
Then I began to move, pushing into her slow and deep, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in.
Anko's body remembered me. Missed me.
Her pussy clung eagerly, the inner walls fluttering in tight, rippling pulses, as if trying to milk me deeper with each thrust. Two months had been too long—her body was making that abundantly clear.
"Nngh—! Fuck!" Anko bit out, her voice breaking as she buried her face against the floor. Her fingers flexed in their restraints, but she made no real effort to free herself.
The sensation was maddening — her honey-thick arousal coating my cock with each punishing stroke, her velvety heat squeezing me like a vice. And yet, even as she gasped and trembled beneath me, her snark hadn't completely abandoned her.
"Hah—bastard," she panted, her breath hitching as I snapped my hips forward again, drawing another broken noise from her throat. "You better be planning to make this worth the—ah!—wait."
I chuckled, picking up the pace, my grip on her hips tightening to the point of bruising. "Who said you get to make demands?"
Her response was cut off as I angled my next thrust just right, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her back arch violently.
"G-god—DAMMIT—!"
Her head tossed back, violet ponytail whipping against her spine as she let out a near-growl of frustration and pleasure.
"N-not fair—!"
But I didn't slow down.
I played Anko like a damn flute. Every thrust a note, every gasp a melody. And just like music, her body responded in rising crescendos, each climax shaking her harder than the last. Moans, gasps, the occasional hiss of pleasure curling past her lips. She was loud, expressive, a kunoichi who never held back, and I used it to my advantage.
"Ngh—! Fuck! Again—?!" Her voice was half-laugh, half-snarl as another orgasm ripped through her, her pussy clamping down like a vice, her thighs trembling violently.
I smirked. This — this was what I needed.
My confidence reignited with every broken moan I tore from her throat. I wasn't being outpaced now. Anko wasn't some stamina-freak Uzumaki with endless reserves; she was flesh and blood and pinch of crazy, and I was breaking her down one orgasm at a time.
Of course, Anko being Anko, she still couldn't resist running her mouth.
"Hah—someone's... finally… perking up," she panted, gasping as I angled deeper, hitting that spot that made her toes curl. "If y-you're fucking me like this… should I start barking? Or do you only go all-out when you're trying to impress the dog-bitch?"
I growled, slamming into her harder, making her yelp.
"Or—hah… maybe," she continued, barely holding back a moan, "you've got…. a thing… a thing for wild bitches? 'Cause if I wag my-ah… my ass any harder, you might just try to p-put a collar on me."
I rolled my hips in a slow, brutal grind, savoring the way her breath hitched. "Tsume talks less."
Anko let out a breathy laugh, her body still shuddering from the last orgasm I tore out of her.
"….y-yeah?" she panted, voice thick with pleasure and mischief. "That bitch has ahh… w-whole pack to talk for her. M-me? I gotta do all my own b-barking."
I grunted, slamming into her hard enough to make her arms jerk against the belt. She gasped, but the grin in her voice never wavered.
"W-what's the matter? Missing that musky dog smell?" she taunted, hips rocking back against me. "Or maybe you're just w-worried ah… I'll bite—hah harder than she does?"
I leaned down, pressing my chest to her back, forcing her into the floor with my weight. My breath ghosted over her ear. "You keep running your mouth, and I'll fuck you until you can't speak."
Anko shivered — excited. "B-big-ahh…. big wordsss. Hope you've…. got the stamina, lover boy."
I growled and pulled her hips back roughly, slamming in to the hilt.
Why did you have to say that!
My grip on her hips turned bruising.
"Guess I'll just have to put you down, then."
Her moan broke into laughter. "You're all talk! If you wanted me on a leash, you should've just said so."
SMACK.
My palm cracked against her ass again, leaving another red mark blooming on her pale skin. She arched into it, her cunt squeezing, pulsing around me in little flutters.
"Anko."
"Hmm-mm?" She rolled her hips, deliberately tightening around me."T-t—ahhh….thinking off trading me…. for a mutt?"
She can be so cute when she was jealous.
I let my fingers tangle in her hair, yanking her head back just enough to make her gasp. "Shut up and take it."
She grinned, tongue flicking out to wet her lips. "Make me, lover boy."
I answered her taunts the only way she'd accept—by fucking her so hard she had nothing left to say.
Sex's not about strength or speed but technique. In general. Some women like it rough. Really rough.
Pace ruthless, grip unyielding, I slammed into her again and again, dragging her body against mine like I owned every inch of her. And in this moment, I did.
Anko wasn't Kushina.
She didn't have the Uzumaki's bottomless stamina, didn't have the wide, motherly hips that Kushina bore, didn't have the experience of childbirth that made the redhead's body so relentlessly hungry.
Where Kushina had tested my endurance, Anko simply welcomed it.
I knew Anko's body better than anyone — knew the way her pussy fluttered right before she came, the way her inner walls rippled in tight, practiced waves, trained around my cock after years of this dance.
She was already spent from her mission, her muscles trembling, her strength drained. Add two months without a good fuck, and she was mine to wreck.
Soon enough her voice, once sharp and teasing, had broken into raw, breathless moans.
No more taunts. No more clever jabs. Just the wet slap of skin, her choked gasps, and the obscene squelch of her slick cunt taking me over and over.
Anko was already a wreck—sweat-slicked, trembling, her violet ponytail frayed and sticking to her flushed skin. But…
It wasn't enough.
I stripped her fully, peeling away her mesh bodysuit and shrugging off my own clothes. The cool air kissed our sweat-slicked skin, but it did nothing to temper the heat between us.
Anko lay sprawled, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Her tits — bigger than Kushina's indeed, even rounder — heaved with every ragged inhale. I palmed one, fingers sinking into soft flesh, feeling the contrast between supple skin and the taut, sensitive peak of her dusky pink nipple, already stiff from the rough treatment..
Her areolas were slightly dark, dusky, a contrast against her paler complexion, tightening under my touch. Slightly puffy, sensitive. Perfect.
I leaned down and flicked my tongue over one, and she shivered.
"Hah — look at you," she rasped, voice weak but still teasing. "Didn't…. get enough of me bouncing-ahh…. you wanna play with the goods directly?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I focused.
Green chakra flickered to life at my fingertips as I pressed them to her nipple. Anko's body twitched violently, her breath catching in her throat.
"What the—fuck!?"
A deep, rolling moan tore out of her, and she arched beneath me as if my touch had ignited something inside her. The reaction was instant, visceral. The Iryōjutsu I used wasn't for healing—it was for stimulation, for forcing every nerve to fire with pleasure.
Anko's body jerked, her cunt clamping down on nothing as the forced pleasure ripped through her. Her tits heaved, her nipple pebbling even tighter under my touch as she climaxed just from her tits. Her fingers scrabbled against my back, grasping at anything, her body writhing in helpless, overwhelming sensation.
"Tch—playing dirty," she panted, voice half-slurred with pleasure.
I didn't stop.
Switching to the other nipple, I repeated the process, watching with satisfaction as she trembled. Two orgasms wracked her body, her thighs clamping together, her breath hitching between gasps and choked moans.
She barely had time to recover before I pinched her swollen, overstimulated nipples and twisted. Hard.
"Hng — fuck! Bastard —!" Her curse was strangled, caught between pain and pleasure.
I didn't let go. Instead, I dragged her forward, yanking her up by her swollen, overstimulated nipples like a dog being pulled by a leash. Her legs barely cooperated, stumbling as she struggled to follow, but I didn't slow. Her breath hitched — half a gasp, half a whimper — as the sharp pull forced her to move on instinct alone.
Leaving behind her clothes and a puddle of her own making.