Work Text:
Sakura comes home to the sound of yelling as she walks through the door. At first, she grabs her kunai, ready to eliminate a non-existent threat, but as she locks the door behind her, she realises that the sound has a specifically not-in-peril tone.
‘Is that… is that Sasuke?” She wonders, sliding the weapon back into the holster on her thigh, quieting to listen more intently. The sound of the shower running muffles her husband’s voice and an occasional low thump, and steam is rolling out from under the door. Blushing as she considers the possibilities, she slowly stalks across the hardwood, not making a sound. While Sasuke and her share a healthy, happy relationship, he’s usually not quite as vocal as he is now--to be honest, he’s more quiet during sex than at the dinner table, and even there he hardly says two words.
Something heats and twists inside of Sakura at the thought of what might be happening in there; she can hear her husband panting audibly as she presses her ear against the door. A loud, low groan makes her rub her legs together, and the accompanying cry of ‘please’ throws more fuel to the flames. As far as she knew, her husband didn’t beg in bed, so the new sound makes her knees a little weak. His cries turn to broken choking sounds and half-made sobs. The squeak of wet skin against tile is followed by his scream of “Yes! Right there, right--”.
Sakura slips a little on the slick floor in front of the doorway, and the unlocked door opens with a slow, inexorable creak.
A slow, shaky breath escapes her as the steam from the bathroom rushes past her. The bright white light illuminates everything, and the shower curtain is even open, as if it was intended to be a show just for her.
Eyes closed with his arm leaning against the beige tiled wall, hand fisted tightly in his own hair, her husband is shaking with pleasure. His flushed face and heaving chest dripping, his abs contracting, trembling with his every desperate gasp, he leans his head into the crook of his arm, obviously overcome. His cock is a hot red brand between his stretched open thighs, which tense and flex as he tries to grind back against the source of this overwhelming sensation. There’s a tan hand hooked under each of his knees, holding him in place, one of his legs is extended over the side of the tub, sluicing water onto the floor. A lurid smack draws her eyes further down to an equally bronzed chest, a stomach with an extensive seal, and two muscled arms that are not only holding her husband aloft, but lifting him with an undulating motion.
It strikes her then that they haven’t even heard her, and she licks her lips, shedding her flack jacket as she crosses the distance to pull Sasuke into a demanding kiss. Water soaks her dress as she swallows his moan, and she can’t even find the wherewithal to care, tangling her fingers with his own in his long dark hair.
He blearily opens his eyes, and she caresses his cheek, wrapping her other arm around him to help hold him upright. “Sa-Sakura,” he whispers, but it sounds more like a prayer as he locks his lips to hers once more, looping his arm around her shoulders. “Sakura, please, I--I’m so close, please-- he won’t let me-- he-”
Placing a finger over his lips, she tut-tuts at him, lifting his chin so she can gain access to his bared throat. Nipping him, she makes a line up to his earlobe, barely grazing it with her teeth.
“You didn’t tell me you liked being rimmed,” she says into his ear, her voice husky with desire. He moans helplessly, pressing his head to her shoulder.
“I didn’t-- I didn’t know-- oh! Oh, god-- fuck!”
With a salacious lick of his lips, Naruto pulls away momentarily, looking up at Sakura as she looks down the curve of Sasuke’s back.
“He’s already come once,” he murmurs, and Sakura hears a roughness in his voice, as if he’s recently been swallowing around something hard.
“F--fuck you, you snitch,” Sasuke grumbles, but Naruto pays him no mind.
“I wanted him to wait until you were here for the second.” Naruto lowers Sasuke back onto his tongue, slow and steady, and she feels her husband trying to restrain his voice, his mouth on her neck with little bits of a moan still seeping out.
A rush of arousal grips Sakura’s core, and she kisses Sasuke violently, whipping off the shorts under her skirt as she does. Pressing him against the tile, she uses her other hand to whip off her dress, stepping into the bathtub.
“How long,” she says between kisses, “do you think you can hold out?”
“N-nngh--not much, not much longer,” he replies, and his eyes flicker red as she sinks to her knees, sharingan swirling as he watches her kitten lick at the head of his manhood.
“Wait, wait,” he entreats her, watching as the shower wets her hair and her bitten-red lips while she eyes his dick with a wet lick of her lips.
“Why?”
“Want--want--” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence; keening as Sakura licks a drop of precum from his slit. His words float down the drain and he can only stare as she takes him into her mouth, his pleasure welling up like a tide, his arm braced against the wall.
It’s way more than too much, and as the image of his wife licking up the side of his hard cock with Naruto’s hands leaving bruising imprints on the inside of his thighs is burned into his memory, he orgasms, sobbing as though it’s breaking him. The crest of it seems to last forever, and Sakura slips a finger inside him as he clenches around Naruto’s tongue, turning what should have been aftershocks into something incredible.
Pearly streaks jet out of him and coat her mouth, staining her cheek, some landing in the pink strands stuck to her face. His eyes are wide with disbelief as another wave begins to rise within him, and as she adds yet another finger he crumples in the wake of a third peak, eyes rolling back into his head and toes curling. He jerks wildly in Naruto’s hold, trying to close his legs as if it could lessen the intensity, shouting while Sakura drinks down his essence. His voice cracks towards the end, and as the feeling finally eases, he slumps in Naruto’s hands, boneless against the shower wall.
“That was beautiful,” Sakura says as Naruto lets him down into the tub. Her arms wrap around him and he leans into her, still breathless, still trembling. Wet fingers massage his back and legs, and someone (he can’t tell who) turns the shower into a warm bath, plugging the drain.
He fades in and out as he’s spooned between Naruto and Sakura, listening to them chatter affectionately to each other.
“Thank you,” he hears Sakura say as he fades back in again, lucidity still a long dream away, “this was a great birthday present.”