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Dehydrate my Soul. *NSFW* Thu Jul 26, 2018 9:18 pm
Takao
S-rank
- 18+ WARNING - swearing and gay shit ahead lmao you been warned:
you ever seen a grown man naked? The haze of morning hung low in the Land of Water's hidden village. The morn after a night of rain left the air crisp and fresh and the ground covered in a blanket of dew. A faint chill lingered in the air and urged the pair closer in their slumber. His arms held her close, and their legs tangled by the gentle throes of sleep ensured that neither would wander apart from the other.
His eyes opened, and the coal-like orbs adjusted to the newfound light of morning. He slowly focused on the sleeping visage of the woman wrapped in his arms, her chestnut brown hair cascading messily over his arm that her head laid on and the pillow beneath it. Although reluctant, the hand attached to his arm unoccupied by her head slid lightly along her side and up to her face. With a gentle touch, he brushed back the various stray strands of hair, and welcomed the new view of her peaceful face. He had become reliant on these blissful mornings-- addicted to them, even. Those rare nights where his duties demanded attention and tore him from her bed aggravated him in ways that they had never before, his mind finding new conflict between what it regarded as higher importance.
Takao laid still and quietly beside her for several minutes more and was perfectly content to remain there until she awoke, but the cravings of a well-established routine urged him onward. He lifted his arm and her head with it, working as slow and gentle as a person could to not disturb her slumber. He moved his arm out from under her head and lowered her back down to the pillow. When she snuggled up against the soft fabric, his chest fluttered slightly, and the urge to forego whatever comparatively unimportant routine grew in his head. But he knew better, and with a powerful burst of willpower and great reluctance, he slid his legs out from the knot that had formed in the night. He leaned over and softly kissed her cheek before finally standing from the bed.
He moved from the bedroom to the bathroom and shed the only article of clothing that loosely clung to his body. He lazily kicked the pajama bottoms off to the side and moved toward the shower, but was brought to pause when he caught his reflection in the mirror. His cold gaze settled upon the mark on his shoulder, denoting his previous affiliation with the Hidden Leaf ANBU. His eyes traveled away from the ink under his flesh and focused on the myriad of scars that littered his body. A hand lifted and traced the jagged mark across his left shoulder, and his eyes settled upon the plethora of cicatrices along his forearm and bicep. His torso was a warzone and it sure looked the part. He wore a gallery of mistakes and bad decisions, and despised the way they looked.
Takao turned away from the mirror and approached the shower. He leaned in and turned the knob for the hot water as far as it would go and stepped in, allowing the scalding liquid to splash against his lightly tanned skin. Leaning forward, his head rested under the showerhead, and the righteous bedhead that left his hair splayed in every imaginable direction quickly flattened. He turned and let the water wash over his well-defined back and firm bottom as he reached for the shampoo. In typical fashion for the clueless man using his girlfriend’s shower, it would double as both shampoo and bodywash.
As his hands worked over his scalp and hair, his eyes closed and his imagination began to wander. At first it was harmless and innocent, comparing the sensation of washing his hair to the feeling of Fuyuko idly playing with it as they drifted off to sleep. His mind wandered from that sensation and focused on her, innocently recalling the various features she boasted that he liked. Slow breaths inflated his lungs as his imagination painted a picture of her behind closed eyes; her slender figure, the soft curves of her jaw, the colour of her eyes. He felt a faint, irresistible smile grow on his face as he recalled her penchant for oversized clothing, a relatively ordinary quirk that he found endearing. But those innocent thoughts of her were a mere segue into more perverted imagery. The mental brush began to paint a different picture as his soap-covered hands moved from his hand to his body, sliding across his neck and broad shoulders. Neither had been fully nude in front of the other, yet precious little of her figure had been left to Takao’s imagination. The perfect portrait of her body’s heat had been burned in his memory since the day they had met, and he stumbled upon her with his eyes alight with Aibāningu. Her clothes had done nothing to hide her from his unintentional gaze; he looked away as soon as he had realized, but it was far too late. Every curve and contour of her body, albeit a rainbow of colour, were unclothed by his eyes and bared for him to see. His eyes had been drawn to wherever there was heat, and even though he had only seen her in this manner for mere seconds, he remembered it without flaw or inconsistency.
Frothy soapsuds fell from his head to his shoulder, gradually sliding down his body and over his pectorals, following the contours of his muscle. Continuing on their descent left them to graze the long scar across his abdomen, and that faint contact felt eerily similar to the petite pair of hands that would occasionally wander his bare frame while they slept. His eyes opened and he, thinking that he was no longer alone in the shower, turned to look over his shoulder. Upon seeing that he was alone, his gaze drifted southward and settled upon the pillar swelling between his legs, just beginning to stand upright from his lecherous thoughts.
His cheeks and ears grew warm and flushed as his eyes trailed over the veiny result of his imagination’s indecency. Swallowing hard, Takao’s stare jerked upward and he turned to face the showerhead, opting to occupy his idle hands with rinsing his hair of soap. His eyes closed again, and as soon as darkness overtook his vision, her visage flawlessly reentered his head. This time, he recalled the events of their first night together, when he had haphazardly barged into her room. The memory brought a faint smile to his face, but faded away as the image of her sitting on her bed with only a shirt to cover her body took precedence. It had taken overwhelming amounts of willpower to force down his carnal desires, and required more every day that they spent together. If lust were water, he would be drowning in an ocean. Frustrated both sexually and functionally, Takao leaned forward and rested his forehead on the tiled shower wall.
“Ngh…” Takao groaned, his eyes slowly opening as the warm water cascaded down his back. All it had taken to leave him throbbing at full mast was wandering thoughts about her; his mind hadn’t even progressed to imagining scenarios that had yet to happen.
“Fuck it.” Resigning to the persistence of his thoughts and giving in to the depravity of his imagination, Takao’s hand wandered over his abdomen and to the base of his member. The difference in heat between his toned stomach and his shaft was staggering as digits wrapped around the girthy plinth. A gentle squeeze provided euphoric friction when his hand began to slide along its length. He started out slow, grasping harder as his hand progressed toward the crown, and carefully swiveling over the tip in such a way that his legs trembled. Previously easy breaths hitched in his throats and grew shallow, audible had it not been for the splatter of water from the raining shower head.
While his eyes were glued to the rhythmic motions of his hand sliding over the fleshy plinth, his mind had begun to wander elsewhere. Conscious thought filled in the gaps in ways that brought even more shallowness to his breath. A myriad of scenarios played through his head like the most libidinous of films. He thought of Fuyuko on her knees in front of him, her chestnut brown eyes looking up into his own black as her lips parted and the head of his manhood slid inside, soon accompanied by inches of veiny shaft that filled her warm mouth with his breadth. The mere sounds he imagined her mouth making as he bucked his hips back and forth was enough to send powerful shivers down his spine and force his jaw to clench tightly as his hand’s pace increased. He hated the thought of hurting her, but carnal want betrayed conscious compassion, and the ideated sensation of her gagging and struggling to take him as he slid down her throat shot tremours of pleasure through his body. Had he not slowed his pace, climax would have surely snuck up on him, but he managed to pull his hand away and leave the fleshy mass throbbing, pulsing, and leaking.
“Ah… ha…” He panted, the red flush that had decorated his cheeks and ears having overtaken the entirety of his face. His head entered a state of confliction as he waited out the impending orgasm, slowly willing it back. Perhaps he was too harsh on himself, but he hated the notion that his innermost sexual thoughts might have been objectifying her, yet he found himself craving even more.
His head lifted from the wall and tilted back. The water washed over his chest first before splashing over his cock, cooling it down as the friction relented for a brief moment before his hand reclaimed its grasp. The water acted as improvised lubrication to aid in the gradually increasing back-and-forth motion as Takao resumed with renewed vigour, fresh thoughts of lewd interactions with his girlfriend now clouding his head.
The imaginary scene progressed, and now Fuyuko laid bare at the edge of her bed, her slender legs spread and the folds of her sex parted just slightly. His actions were slow, deliberate, and gentle as he knelt before her and lifted her legs by the back of her knees. He rested them on his shoulders prior to leaning in, his warm breath caressing the moist lips. Takao’s thumbs tread lightly over the folds, moving at a leisurely pace to draw out her pleasure. The slight attention made her body shift, and a smile crawled onto his face, urging him on. His thumbs parted the folds and he leaned in, tasting her for the first time with a sluggish drag of his tongue over her slit that gradually moved upward and over her clit. Her faint whimpers of pleasure made him throb, but his own satisfaction was presently extraneous in favour of her’s. The slow strokes of his tongue over her clit were garnished with careful movements of his left hand’s thumb that stimulated her labia, allowing his right hand free reign to wander up her stomach and claim one of her petite breasts in his hand. Her body began to writhe and push against him as he gradually increased his speed, forcing her to endure the slow build up of pleasure. His tongue and hand switched places after several minutes of steady repetition, and the wet muscle slowly delved deep into her core. His thumb moved in slow circles over her sensitive nub as his tongue thoroughly tasted her inner walls. He dragged it out for nearly an hour longer, and her bedroom was filled with a chorus of whimpering moans and mewling cries of pleasure.
As Takao’s hand traveled along the sizable length of shaft, his pants and moans grew guttural and primal. He was thankful that the sound of water seemed to be enough to drown it out, and if not, it was enough for him to think it did to at least give him some peace of mind. His back arched and he idly thrust his hips into his own grasp, no longer satisfied with the simple motion of a single hand. This left hand joined the right, claiming the upper half while his right reigned over the lower. He worked them back and forth in tandem, drawing out louder moans and gasps of pleasure. His release built quickly, yet stubborn reluctance to finish forced his hands from his pulsing cock once more. He hadn’t even moved past the imaginary appetizers, after all. Arousing as they were, he craved something more.
His eyes drifted down to his twitching member, and then slowly closed again. The scenario that graced his imagination wasn’t unlike the last. Fuyuko laid on her back, her lithe body timidly bared to him. Her face was red and her expression bashful, which only urged him onward. Situated between her legs, he lifted the smooth limbs and slowly spread them to accommodate for his intrusion. He rested them over his own legs, bent at the knee, and grasped his manhood just shy of the base. Aligning himself carefully left his tip just barely prodding her entrance, spreading her folds over his wide glans. He lifted her legs again, this time locking them behind his elbows, and leaned forward over her. In reality, he was unsure of her flexibility, but the fantasy that aided his self-pleasure hardly needed to be realistic. The rhythm of his hands, both having reclaimed their earlier positions upon his throbbing member, increased in speed as he imagined the sensation of sliding inside of her. His visceral creativity let him imagine the feeling of her spreading over him, the faint twitches of her muscles grasping onto him as he slid across her silky inner walls until their groins were pressed against one another. The speed of his deep thrusts into Fuyuko’s core matched the rhythm of his hands stroking himself, gradually building up speed. His breathing quickly grew irregular and arrhythmic as an exigent pressure built in his stomach. They moaned a chorus of pleasure together, and a simple trio of words muttered by Fuyuko amidst her euphoric whimpers was enough to urge his climax on en masse. His arms hugged her close and he pressed into her as deep as their bodies would allow.
Takao’s eyes opened and whatever strands of willpower remained that kept him from reaching climax were shred. He lurched forward, resting his head on the tiles as the titillating noises of his arousal build in frequency and volume, even slipping in a raunchy yet quiet call of Fuyuko’s name. One final deep, guttural groan marked the first pulse of his shaft and the start of his mind-numbing orgasm. A thick rope of virile seed shot from the throbbing tip and onto the shower’s tiled wall. Takao was forced to pull one hand away and support his forehead on the tiles as the heavy sack swinging between his legs twitched. Continuous strokes urged more from the meaty pillar, and just shy of a dozen more viscous ropes covered the tiles. His legs trembled as he squeezed the last beads from the tip, and his reddened face buried itself in the crook of his arm. Slowly, his eyes closed, partially embarrassed and ashamed but mostly satisfied and glowing from the intense climax. He stayed motionless for a moment longer, until a knock on the door stirred him into a panic.
He whipped his head to the size, unaware that the post-orgasm gaze had yet to fade, and slipped on the wet shower tile as a result. He fell flat on his back with a heavy thud and yelp of surprise and pain. His right arm flailed on the way down, and caught the fabric of the curtain, bringing it with him to create a thunderous chorus of clumsiness.
“Kgh…” He hissed through clenched teeth and rubbed the back of his head with the hand not bound by the fallen shower curtain fabric. Fuyuko’s voice called out to him, and he shot up into a seated position, scurrying to clean his mess as he reassured her that he was fine.TOTAL WC
2,733
Training
2700
-1500 (S-Rank Fire Technique) (-20%(genius), -10%(kimura))
-350 (E-Rank Passive) (-20%(genius))
-700 (C-Rank Technique)
Hokage: 
Kazekage: 
Raikage: 
Tsuchikage: 
Mizukage: 