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When they get home it is afternoon, still bright outside with the sun warming their tiny shared apartment above the flower shop. By now their bedroom is dim, cast in shades of orange and gold by the last rays of sunset through the windows. At the edges of the horizon, cool dusk is creeping in.Sakura doesn't notice the change in lighting, or even really the passage of time, in the slightest. She's sprawled on her back on their bed, and her face is buried between Ino's thighs, where it is dark and warm and safe-feeling. She can feel Ino's fists tight in her hair, feel the gentle tug of them when her fingers flex involuntarily. Sakura can't see a thing from here, and may in fact not notice if an entire invasion happens outside, but she feels safe and relaxed anyway. She can feel the unconscious swaying of Ino's soft body above her when she rocks against Sakura's mouth, and that's about all she wants to notice now anyway.
Sakura's hands are on Ino's thighs, gentle, careful, supportive, and like warm living steel holding her steady. She could snap Ino's femur with her hands like this. She chooses to be gentle with her. Thoughtlessly, she rubs tiny circles into Ino's thigh with her thumb, feeling the silky skin there catch on her own rough hand.
Ino's so wet she's dripping. The soft, smooth, slick folds of her labia rub against Sakura's mouth and jaw when she shifts, and one of Sakura's hands is high enough upon her hip to feel the tense clench of her stomach muscles. They shift and release in time with the hungry clench of the muscles Sakura can feel with her tongue when she pushes it in deeply.
This wet, this hot, it's hard to actually put consistent pressure on Ino's clit. She finds it easily, of course, but even swollen and sensitive, it's hidden behind folds of slippery skin. Sakura slides her tongue over it in long, wet, messy caresses, catches it ever so gently between her slippery lips -- and every time she does, Ino's internal muscles clench and twitch and tighten, and her hips rock involuntarily, and Sakura loses the stubborn slick little thing.
Ino tugs on her hair. The sensation shivers across her head and down her spine.
She moans breathlessly into the warm and heady-scented darkness of her vulva. Her voice is muffled, lost there, but Ino twitches at the vibration.
"Mmm, Sakura-- ah. Are you trying --" she breathes, a heaving, laboured breath, like it's too much to get the whole phrase out at once, and it ruins the sweet and teasing tone she is so clearly aiming for, "-- are you trying to say something?"
Sakura catches her clit between her lips again, for half a second, and Ino jerks and squeaks an adorable little squeak of combined shock and pleasure. Sakura tries again. And again. She rubs the hard swollen little knot of it against her lips and slides her tongue along beneath it, inside of her.
The immediate insides and the velvety labial folds are dense with nerves -- not like her clit, obviously, but still, the slick membranes are positively packed with nerve endings. Sakura knows. Medicine says so.
Ino says so, too, when she gasps and grunts and says: "Sakura. Sakura. Sakura!" like she has something very important to communicate. Sakura hums to show she is paying attention, and Ino's whole body seems to shudder in time with the dull vibration of her lips. "Feels good," Ino slurs.
Sakura smiles, and Ino gasps again, like she can feel it. She twists her fingers in Sakura's hair, pulling hard on big chunks of it, grinding her hips down on Sakura's face as hard as she can. It tugs at Sakura's scalp, and after a second she shifts her own grip on Ino's thighs and pulls her in closer, until her nose is pressing agaist the hood of Ino's clitoris and her tongue is buried inside her. It slides hot and flexible against her insides and sets nerve endings alight.
Ino is still talking, but it's mostly a litany of swearing and Sakura's name. She twists, and Sakura holds her tightly, keeping her crushed against her face.
She can smell her fluids, all thick and heady on her tongue and mouth -- and her jaw, and smeared on her nose, too. She is dizzy with the smell and taste and hot soaked texture of Ino.
"Come on," Ino growls, and Sakura can feel from the shaking in her thighs and the long, slow, hard rock of her hips that she's close now. Her voice is a constant now, getting louder and catching up all mangled in concert with her breaths, moaning loudly.
"Come on," she says again, with a little purring crack in her voice that makes Sakura shudder and groan. She's squirming now, trying to get closer and rub harder in exactly the way she needs. Sakura flexes her fingers and uses her superior strength to keep Ino's body crushed against her face, despite her wiggling. She makes a breathy, excited noise, exactly as Sakura expects, at the feeling of Sakura's hands holding her -- holding her down, holding her still, effortless and easy against the flex of her thighs and her belly muscles. When Sakura holds her down, she knows she can't get up. Just like that, Ino comes unravelled on top of her, shaking with the strength of the orgasm that races through her. She gives a low wail and Sakura can feel how her body seems to hitch and contract and shudder all at once. Her legs twitch, and the muscles inside her clutch and clench desperately enough that Sakura can feel their pressure with her tongue. She keeps moving her mouth and lips and tongue through it, pushing into the encouraging motion of Ino's hips while she sways and whines above her.
"Sakura," Ino gasps again, sounding positively ruined, and Sakura makes a soft and involuntary growl at the sound of it. The vibrations of her voice just make Ino twitch again, and she shifts the whole weight of her body, arching and clutching. "Sakura."
It sends a bone-deep shudder of delight right through Sakura to hear her like this. She thinks she could listen to Ino say her name like that for about a week and not get tired.
She slows down and loosens her grip when Ino finally quiets and settles. Sakura lets her stay there with her knees on either side of Sakura's skull and her liquefied muscles trembling erratically for a few long moments. It's no hardship to be pressed deep against Ino for a few moments longer, breathing in the smell of her and tasting her -- orgasm only makes her wetter, sloppier. Sakura stems the urge to lick into that wetness with some difficulty. She'll be sensitive now. Sakura doesn't want to hurt her.
After another moment of panting and shaking, Ino finds her knees and crawls awkwardly off Sakura's face.
"Wow, you're a mess," Ino says, blinking down at her in a daze. She smiles then, slow and smug, and slides her finger over Sakura's lips. "But... you like that, huh?"
Her mouth is so used to the friction of Ino's skin that her finger feels strange, but gamely she sucks on it, feeling the texture of skin over the knuckle and the sharpness of a nail out with her tongue.
Ino hums. She looks so nice, with her golden trail of hair spilling over one shoulder and her pretty face flushed high across her cheeks. She's got a heavy, glazed look to her eyes now and part of Sakura thrills to have put it there. Her soft breasts are bare to the air with their nipples hard and tight, and when she turns and crawls on unsteady knees down the bed, Sakura can see that she's also a mess: there's slick fluids still gleaming on her thighs, and her pubic hair is darker with sweat.
Sakura shifts restlessly, but she doesn't sit up. Ino slings one thigh over Sakura's, spreading her legs to either side of it. The inside of her thigh is slippery.
"Wow," says Ino again, in a voice like she's laughing. Sakura instinctively tries to squeeze her thighs together at the sound of that tone, but Ino's leg's in the way.
"No," says Ino, shoving at her thigh. Sakura could snap Ino's femur without even using her hands in this position, but she lets her slide her legs further apart. She relaxes into it, compliant and trusting. "No, it's good. It's, ah, flattering," Ino adds with another aborted giggle.
Sakura relaxes her thighs but flings one arm over her eyes. Yes, all right. It is kind of embarrassing.
The situation between her legs has gone well past 'wet' and hit 'sloppy'. At this point she feels like she's practically lying in a puddle.
As if to illustrate how very slick and open and ready Sakura is, Ino slides two fingers right up into her without any difficulty.
"Oh," Sakura says, and arches her spine. Ino's fingers are barely even moving, but every nerve ending inside Sakura feels needy and craving. Even just the pressure of Ino's long and dextrous fingers makes her see stars.
She peeks out from beneath the shadow of her arm, looking at Ino -- who is looking at her, eyes intent on Sakura's face from where she's perched.
"Ne, Sakura," she says, moving her fingers now, sliding them maddeningly out of her, dragging their soft pads against her inner wall, making her blink rapidly and breathe hard.
"What," says Sakura, twitching one leg when Ino uses her other hand to trace slow, feather-light patterns over her vulva and labia, dragging like a half-heard suggestion of friction over her desperately sensitive skin. Every inch of Sakura's skin feels swollen and hungry. She tracks those touches like she is starving for them.
Ino smiles at her, pleased and smug, and ducks her head so she can catch Sakura's eyes. Her hair spills over one of Sakura's thighs, silky and tickling. "You're very cute like this."
Absurdly, Sakura can feel her face going hot. She is suddenly a tiny child again, feeling Ino pull her hair back for the first time.
Sakura squirms.
Ino makes a soft noise of pleased amusement. She gives her a long slow rub with her fingers, sliding them from deep within her all the way out, over her swollen and aching clitoris.
Sakura's mind goes abruptly blank with pleasure. She might whimper. She's not sure. "Oh."
It's sharp, relentless pleasure, but it still builds slowly under Ino's hands.
"You're blushing," Ino informs her, sounding delighted. She lays an open-mouthed kiss on Sakura's thigh and the pace of her fingers increase, rubbing in and out of her, sliding up to her clit and driving her wilder and wilder.
Her breathing is loud in her own ears, now, rasping with the heave of her chest. "Oh," she says stupidly, again. And then, "oh, Ino --"
Her whole world narrows to Ino's long clever fingers sliding through the slick mess between her legs and wringing new noises of pleasure out of her with each long sweet drag and stroke. Her thighs clench and relax, and her hips move without her permission.
The sharp, rising pleasure tightens, like a hard knot of something huge and electric, deep in the hottest part of her belly. Then Sakura groans, arching herself into Ino's blessed hands, throwing her shaking hips into the stimulation. Her voice cracks. Her hands catch and fist in the bed sheets and her legs tense and shake. Heady bliss expands within her, blotting out the world. "Yes," she says, helpless and breathy, "yes!"
She rides out a long, molten orgasm, moaning loudly and shamelessly, and when she comes down she's -- boneless and heavy and not quite real.
Ino crawls up along her again, stretching over her and tangling their legs together. Her long hair ghosts like silk over Sakura's bare skin. She kisses Sakura once, twice: long and slow and contented.
Sakura sighs to feel the whole steady weight of Ino press into her from above, pushing her into the mattress. She wraps one arm around her waist and draws her in.