Cherry Blossoms and Sakura Haruno - (Naruto) - [163 Pictures] (Patreon)

Petals on Her Skin

The afternoon sun filtered through the cherry blossoms like honey through silk, painting the worn stone path in shifting patterns of pink and gold. Sakura stood a few feet ahead of me, her red yukata catching the breeze, the fabric pulling against her hips in a way I'd been trying not to notice for the better part of five years.

I'd watched her in countless battles. I'd seen her strike down enemies with precision that made seasoned warriors go pale. I'd stood beside her in silence during long vigils, shared meals in cramped safe houses, listened to her breathe in the dark when nightmares chased sleep away. And in all that time, I'd never stopped wanting her.

She tilted her head back, letting the petals drift over her face. Her short pink hair—that ridiculous, impossible color that somehow suited her more than any natural shade ever could—caught the light like spun sugar. When she laughed, it was a rare, unguarded sound that made my chest tighten.

"Did you see that?" She turned, and a single blossom had lodged itself above her ear. Her green eyes—those eyes that could cut a man to ribbons or melt him where he stood—sparkled with something I rarely saw there. Playfulness.

"A perfect fit," I said, my voice lower than I intended. "Almost like it was meant to be there."

She touched the petal self-consciously, a faint flush coloring her porcelain cheeks. "Don't start."

"I'm just saying." I stepped closer, the moss soft beneath my sandals. "The view here is remarkable."

"Smooth," she said, but she was smiling. That small, crooked smile she tried to hide when she thought I wasn't looking.

"I mean it. The blossoms, the temple, the light..." I let my gaze drift down the elegant line of her throat, where the yukata's collar had slipped to reveal the pale curve of her shoulder. "But you're still the most beautiful thing here."

Her laugh this time was different—softer, edged with something that made my pulse quicken. "You're laying it on pretty thick for a guy who spent three years pretending he didn't notice me changing after missions."

"I noticed." The words came out rough. "I always noticed."

She went very still. The wind died, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Petals drifted between us in slow spirals, and I watched her chest rise and fall beneath the red silk, the fabric straining just slightly across her medium breasts.

"Sakura." I said her name like a prayer I'd been holding too long. "Can I tell you something?"

"You usually do." But her voice had lost its teasing edge. Her green eyes had gone dark, watchful.

"I've thought about this moment for years." I took another step, close enough now to see the faint pulse beating at the base of her throat. "I've imagined all the ways I'd finally stop being a coward and tell you that every mission, every night watch, every time I watched you walk away—I wanted to follow. I wanted to—"

"You want to what?" Her breath caught when I reached out, my fingers brushing the stray petal from her hair. The pink strands were impossibly soft against my skin.

I let my hand linger, cupping her jaw. Her skin was warm, smoother than I'd ever let myself imagine. "If I kiss you right now, are you going to punch me?"

Her lips parted. I watched her tongue dart out to wet them, and it took everything I had not to close the distance immediately.

"Maybe later," she whispered. "Kiss me first."

I didn't remember moving. One moment I was breathing the same air she was, and the next my mouth was on hers, and the world tilted sideways.

She tasted like green tea and something sweeter beneath. Her fingers tangled in my shirt, pulling me closer, and when I felt her teeth graze my lower lip, a sound escaped me that was half groan, half something more desperate. Her body pressed against mine—those curves I'd catalogued for years finally flush against me, her tits soft through the silk, her hips fitting against mine like she'd always belonged there. I was already half-hard, my cock pressing against my pants as her thigh slid between my legs.

When we broke apart, both of us breathing hard, her yukata had slipped further off one shoulder. My hands were shaking.

"Not here," she breathed, but she didn't let go.

I glanced around. The temple grounds were empty, the last tourists long gone. The largest cherry tree stood a few yards away, its branches creating a canopy of pink over a bed of moss so thick it looked like velvet.

"Sakura." I pressed my forehead to hers. "If we start this, I'm not going to want to stop."

Her laugh was low, dangerous. "Who said anything about stopping?"

She took my hand—her palm calloused from years of training, her grip strong—and led me toward the tree.

The moss was soft beneath us, cool through my clothes. Petals rained down in a constant, silent shower, dusting her pink hair with deeper shades of rose. She knelt above me before I could even think to move, her thighs straddling my hips, the yukata falling open to reveal the toned expanse of her midriff and the swell of her breasts beneath.

"All those years," she said, her voice husky, her hands already working the ties of my pants. "All those nights you thought I didn't notice you watching."

I couldn't form words. Her fingers brushed against my hard cock through the fabric, and my hips jerked involuntarily.

"I noticed," she whispered. Her green eyes never left mine as she freed me, her fingers wrapping around my shaft with a confidence that made my head fall back against the moss. My erection pulsed in her grip, thick and leaking precum that she spread over the head with her thumb. "I noticed everything."

"Then you know—" I gasped as she stroked me slowly, her thumb circling the sensitive tip, spreading the slickness gathering there. "You know what you do to me."

She smiled—that same mischievous glint I'd seen when she caught the blossom. "Show me."

And then she lowered her head.

The first touch of her tongue was electric. She traced the underside of my cock from base to tip, her eyes locked on mine, and I had to grip the moss to keep from coming undone right there. When she took me into her mouth, the heat of her cunt-equivalent wetness was overwhelming—wet, silken, her lips stretched around my girth as she sank down inch by inch, taking my cock deep into her throat.

"Fuck, Sakura—"

She hummed around me, and the vibration shot up my spine. Her hand worked what her mouth couldn't reach, her grip firm and practiced, and when she swallowed me to the back of her throat, I saw stars. Her saliva coated my shaft, making every slide obscenely slick.

Her pink hair brushed against my stomach as she moved, setting up a rhythm that had me panting. Her green eyes never left my face—watching, owning every reaction she drew from me. Saliva dripped down my balls as she sucked, the obscene sounds mingling with the whisper of falling petals.

"You taste so good," she breathed when she came up for air, her hand still stroking my wet cock. "I've wanted to do this for so long. I've wanted your cock in my mouth for years."

"Sakura—I'm close—"

She smiled, slow and deliberate, and pressed her tits around my erection.

The sensation was unlike anything I'd imagined. Her toned chest created perfect pressure, the softness of her skin contrasting with the firmness beneath. Her pink nipples, hard as pebbles, grazed my shaft as she moved, the friction making my hips buck. She added more saliva, letting it lubricate the glide of her breasts sliding up and down my length, and the sight of her like this—her hair disheveled, her lips swollen, her tits slick with her own spit as she pleasured me—was almost too much.

"I want to feel you come," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "I want to taste your cum."

I didn't last long after that. The combination of her hands, her mouth, her tits, her eyes—it shattered something in me. I came with a hoarse cry, my release spilling across her breasts and throat in thick ropes of cum, and she worked me through it, stroking every last drop onto her skin, her expression one of pure satisfaction.

But she wasn't finished.

She rose above me, yukata falling away completely, and I saw her for the first time—all of her. The full, round curves of her hips, the narrow waist, the way her breasts rose and fell with her quickening breath, my cum still glistening on her tits. She was a warrior's body made soft in all the right places, and I wanted to worship every inch.

My hands found her hips, pulling her down. "My turn."

I laid her back on the blanket of petals, watching them drift onto her skin, catching in her pink hair and sticking to the cum cooling on her chest. Her legs parted for me, and I settled between them, taking a moment just to look at her pussy—already wet, her outer lips glistening, her clit swollen and peeking from its hood.

"Now who's staring," she teased, but her voice was breathless.

"You're beautiful." I kissed her inner thigh, then higher. "Every part of you. I want to taste your cunt."

When I finally touched her, she was dripping. Her pussy was slick with arousal, her clit fully erect, and the sound she made when I slid two fingers inside her wet hole was the most honest thing I'd ever heard. I buried my face between her thighs, my tongue finding her clit, and she bucked against my mouth.

"More," she gasped, her hips rocking against my face. "I need—fuck, your tongue—"

I licked her clit in slow, firm circles, pushing my fingers deeper into her cunt, feeling her inner walls clench around them. She was so wet that her arousal coated my chin, and I could taste her—musky, sweet, intoxicating. I slid a third finger inside her, stretching her hole, and she cried out, her hand fisting in my hair.

"I'm going to—don't stop—"

I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked while my fingers fucked her pussy, and she came apart with a scream, her orgasm flooding my hand, her thighs trembling around my head. I worked her through it, licking every drop of her release until she was pulling me up by the hair, desperate.

"I need your cock inside me," she gasped. "Now."

I knew what she needed. I'd imagined it a hundred times.

I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her wet hole. Her legs wrapped around my waist—strong, capable thighs that had kicked through walls and struck down enemies—and she pulled me closer.

"Look at me," she said.

I did. Her green eyes were dark with want, her lips parted, her body trembling beneath me. And when I pushed inside her, slow and deliberate, the world narrowed to just this: her cunt surrounding me, hot and tight and dripping wet, her gasp in my ear, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

She was tight, hot, perfect. I buried my cock to the hilt and paused, letting us both feel the fullness of it—my erection stretching her pussy, her inner muscles clenching around me.

"Years," I breathed against her neck. "I waited years for this."

"Then don't wait anymore. Fuck me."

I moved. The rhythm started slow—deep, grinding thrusts that made her moan against my mouth. Her legs tightened around me, pulling me deeper, and I felt every shift of her hips, every flex of her toned body beneath me. My cock slid in and out of her cunt, each thrust making obscene wet sounds.

Her breasts pressed against my chest, her pink nipples hardening as they brushed against my skin. I could feel her heartbeat, or maybe it was mine—I couldn't tell anymore. There was only her, the wet heat of her pussy clenching around my cock, the petals sticking to our sweat-slicked skin.

"Sakura—" I groaned as she rocked up to meet me, taking me deeper. "Your cunt feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock."

"Harder," she demanded. "I want to feel you tomorrow. Fuck me harder."

I flipped her onto her hands and knees before I could think. The sight of her—ass raised, spine arched, pink hair falling over her face, her pussy dripping and open for me—made something primal surge through me. I gripped her wide hips, marveling at the curve of her waist, the flare of her ass, and drove into her cunt from behind.

The sound she made was pure sin.

I set a brutal pace, each thrust making her gasp, her round ass rippling with the impact. Petals clung to her sweat-slicked skin, and I watched them scatter with every movement. My fingers dug into her hips hard enough to bruise, and she pushed back against me, matching my rhythm, demanding more. My cock sank into her pussy to the hilt with every stroke.

"Your cock is so deep," she panted, her voice ragged. "Fuck, yes—right there—fuck my cunt—"

I reached around, finding her clit, rubbing it in tight circles while I pounded into her from behind. She shattered instantly. Her orgasm pulsed around my cock, her cunt clenching in waves that had me seeing white. I drove into her through it, feeling her shake, hearing her cry out my name as her pussy milked my erection.

When she collapsed onto the moss, I followed, rolling her onto her back. Her legs wrapped around me again, and I buried my cock inside her wet hole, chasing my own release.

"Inside me," she gasped against my mouth. "Come inside my cunt. Fill me with your cum."

Her hands cupped my face, her eyes wide and fierce and utterly vulnerable. "I want all of you."

That was all it took. I spilled deep inside her pussy as she came again, my cum flooding her cunt in thick pulses, her inner walls milking every drop, her nails raking down my back. I buried my face in her neck, felt her pulse racing against my lips, and let the waves of pleasure crash over us both as my cock continued to twitch inside her, emptying every last bit of my cum into her hole.

We lay tangled together as the petals continued to fall. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my chest, and I watched a single blossom drift down to land on her breast, pink against pale skin, my cum still leaking from her pussy and running down her thigh.

"For the record," she murmured, her voice drowsy and satisfied. "I'm still going to punch you later."

I laughed, pulling her closer. "Worth it."

She lifted her head, those green eyes meeting mine. For a moment, the mask slipped—the fierce kunoichi, the untouchable warrior—and I saw the woman beneath. The one I'd fallen in love with years ago, somewhere between a shared ration bar and a near-miss with a shuriken.

"Don't make me wait another five years," she said softly.

I kissed her forehead, then her lips. "Not a chance."

Above us, the cherry blossoms rained down like a blessing, settling around us in drifts of pink and white. They would fall, fade, and scatter—but this moment, her body warm against mine, her heartbeat steady under my palm, my cum still leaking from her cunt, the taste of her still on my lips—this was something that would last.