Chapter 118: Mikoto [4] 18+

Kael did not give her time to gather the scattered pieces of her composure. He pushed Mikoto fully onto her back across Sasuke’s bed, hooked his arms under her knees, and lifted until her thighs rested along his torso and her ankles settled near his shoulders. The angle opened her completely. He guided himself to her entrance, already slick from his mouth, and sank in with one long, steady thrust.

Mikoto’s mouth fell open on a broken sound.

"Ahh—! Naruto... wait... we shouldn’t..."

The protest was weak, tangled with the involuntary moan that followed when he bottomed out. Her body had been empty for so many years that the sudden fullness stole the rest of her words. Kael braced his hands on the backs of her thighs, keeping her folded open, and began to move. Deep, rolling strokes that dragged every inch of him along her walls. The wet sound of their joining filled the quiet bedroom—slow at first, then steadier, the soft slap of his hips against her rising with each thrust.

"Uh... uh... nngh... this is wrong..."

She turned her face to the side, eyes squeezed shut, as if not looking at him would make the reality less sharp. Inside she was still the woman who had packed lunches for him when Kushina was busy, who had scolded him gently for scraped knees, who had smiled at the loud blond boy like he belonged to the neighborhood. That woman could not understand how she was now on her back with her knees by her ears and her nephew’s cock buried inside her. Yet the starved part of her body—the part that had slept untouched beside Fugaku for years—clenched around him in helpless welcome.

Kael kept the position for a long time. He fucked her in steady, deliberate rhythm, watching the way her breasts shifted under the bunched dress, the way her mouth stayed open on soft, continuous sounds. Every time she tried to form another objection he simply thrust deeper, turning the words into a moan.

"Naruto... ahh... your mother... if she knew... nngh—"

"She doesn’t," he answered, voice rough, and rolled his hips in a circle that pressed the head of his cock against the front wall of her pussy. Mikoto’s back arched. A higher cry spilled out of her. The wet sounds grew louder, wetter, the slick evidence of how ready her body had become despite every moral protest still circling in her mind.

He stayed in that folded position until her thighs trembled against his chest and her protests had dissolved into broken, rhythmic moaning. Only then did he shift.

Kael lowered her legs just enough to change the angle, then planted his knees wider and drove down into her with short, heavy strokes. Each thrust landed with concentrated force against the furthest point inside her. The sound changed from a wet slide to a deeper, more percussive slap. Mikoto’s eyes flew open. Her hands scrambled at his forearms.

"Too deep—ahh—Naruto, please—it’s too much—"

He did not lighten the impact. He kept the same powerful rhythm, letting her feel every heavy collision. The bed frame creaked beneath them. Her dark hair spilled across Sasuke’s pillow. The conflict on her face was raw now—shock, guilt, and the unmistakable flush of a woman being fucked after years of nothing. Her body betrayed her with every stroke: the way she grew wetter, the way her hips lifted to meet him even while her voice begged for a pause, the way her inner muscles fluttered and clenched as if trying to keep him inside.

"Uh... uh... ahh—nngh—we have to stop... someone will... haa—"

Kael leaned down, still thrusting, and kissed the side of her throat. "You don’t want me to stop. Your body is shaking."

Mikoto’s only answer was a long, helpless moan. The deep-impact angle forced her to take him in a way that left no room for distance. Every thrust knocked another piece of the caring-aunt composure loose. She had raised this boy. She had bandaged his hands and laughed at his jokes and treated him like family. Now she was on her back with her knees spread and her nephew pounding into her with focused, relentless force, and the worst part was how good it felt—how the long drought of her marriage had left her so sensitive that every impact pushed her closer to another climax she did not want to admit she needed.

He fucked her like that until her moans turned high and continuous and her hands stopped pushing at his arms and started holding on instead. Only when her breathing fractured into short, desperate pulls of air did he move again.

Kael hooked his elbows under her knees and pushed them back and up until her legs pointed almost straight toward the ceiling. The angle was extreme, folding her open even more than the eagle had. He braced his hands on the backs of her thighs and drove into her with long, powerful strokes that used the full length of his cock. The wet, heavy slap of skin on skin became the dominant sound in the room. Mikoto’s cries rose with every thrust.

"Ahh—! Naruto—ahh—too deep... nngh... I can’t—"

"You can," he said, and kept fucking her.

The position left her with nowhere to hide. Her calves rested against his shoulders; her heels hovered in the air; her entire body was open and available for every deep stroke. The guilt still circled in her mind—Fugaku, the clan, the boys, Kushina—but it grew quieter under the steady, overwhelming rhythm of his cock. She had not been touched like this in so long that her body simply surrendered to the sensation. Wetness slicked her thighs and the sheets beneath her. Her breasts bounced with every impact. The flush on her face and chest had deepened to a vivid red.

"Uh... uh... ahh—Naruto... I’m... something’s happening... nngh—"

He did not slow down. He fucked her through the rising tension in long, relentless strokes, watching her face as the second orgasm built and finally broke. Mikoto came with a sharp, almost surprised cry, her back arching as far as the position allowed, her inner walls clamping down on him in strong, rhythmic pulses. Clear wetness spilled around his cock and ran down the cleft of her ass onto the blanket. He kept thrusting through it, drawing every wave out until she was shaking and oversensitive and soft, broken sounds were all she had left.

Kael finally stilled deep inside her, breathing hard, still fully hard. Mikoto lay beneath him with her legs still pushed up, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused. The caring aunt who had always spoken to him so gently was still present behind those eyes—still horrified, still confused, still certain this was a line that should never have been crossed. But the woman who had been left untouched for years was louder now, body pliant and open and quietly aching for more even while her mind struggled to catch up.

He leaned down, kept her legs in place, and kissed her once, slow and deep, while he remained buried to the hilt.

Inside her son’s bedroom, Mikoto Uchiha lay folded open and freshly fucked, the conflict still written across her face, and the boy she had helped raise showed no sign of being finished with her.

---