Sexual Intercourse | By : Robofetus Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1840 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Robofetus0 (hephestus0@juno.com), the author of this fanfiction, makes no claim to Naruto or its characters and does not profit from this. Love and thanks to Angsty McGothsalot for her help, and also for just generally being really cool.
Sexual Intercourse
I don’t know what it is about you. You’re crazy. You’re absolutely crazy. At first I passed you off as just a total moron, but now I know—that re are actually, utterly, honestly a lunatic, deranged and reckless and free to run the streets. And there’s nothing that can stop you. The possibility that you could be defeated has never occurred to you, and you’re…crazy and…
…Hot, smooth, here.
And your body is warm like alcohol.
I feel like I’m sinking into you.
I don’t know why—can’t even guess—but while I was outside there, kneeling to re-wrap my shin-guard, you came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. And when I turned around you kissed me on the mouth. My lip had been split open earlier, and when you touched it, it itched like it was healing, and in my surprise I reacted by reflex, pressing my lips tighter against you to relieve the discomfort.
Your mouth opened, and you pressed me deeper into it. Hot. Crazy. But careful. That was what surprised me most—I’d never seen any caution or modesty from you before, but you moved your tongue in so slow and shy, so gentle that I didn’t even notice when I began returning the small movement.
And I don’t know why. I have no idea at all why you decided to kiss me, but I followed after you blindly, even when you stood up from the grass, all the way to your home, like a drunken man led by the hand. I couldn’t see anything but you; I wouldn’t have noticed if someone had bound my ankles and set dogs on me.
I didn’t even wait for the door to shut behind us before I fell back against it, and you leaned heavily into me, kissing me again without saying a word, breathing the air out of my mouth. You had your hands behind my neck, and you licked my teeth and the place underneath my tongue, and I think I must have fallen asleep, because I don’t remember how we got to your bed. I only remember your mouth on mine, the moistness and novelty of it. I never would have thought to do such a thing, not just to kiss but to touch the insides of our mouths together, and I’ve never felt anything like it before.
Of course I’ve always felt the empty, aching need forch; ch; I was loved very much in my infancy and early childhood, but I hadn’t received physical affection of any kind since that time. I was touched only in fighting and training and discipline, and this is so jarringly different from that—maybe I’m still just stunned? I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure of is I want this, I want it so bad that I’m not willing to fight.
Crazy, you’re crazy, and you’re touching me everywhere; I think you’re trying to get me to take off my shirt. I raise myself up a little to pull it off; I’m partly sitting on your hips, but mostly lying on top of you, and I can feel how hard you are. Your hands are running up and down my sides and over my stomach. Like usual, you can’t stay still; you’re wriggling unnecessarily, and your movements, the friction…it’s hot all over, it feels like burning, like picking up a kunai that’s been left out in the sun.
I drop my shirt on the floor beside the bed, and help you get your jacket and undershirt off. It would be easier if you’d sit up a little more, but I know that practicality is a thing unknown to you. The clothing comes off, anyway, and you kiss me again, sucking my tongue, pressing your fingers hard into the back of my neck. I fall down the short distance until I’m resting my weight on you, our bare chests heaving together. It’s very difficult to breathe through my nose; I can’t seem to get enough air—I wonder if that’s why I feel so dizzy?
I don’t care.
I press my hand down between us over your crotch, and you scream into my mouth when I touch you. I knead your erection from outside your clothing, thrusting weakly into the back of my hand as I do so. You are salivating. I slip my left hand behind your shoulder, between your body and the mattress, and slide it down to touch your shoulderblade.
Your muscles are flexing themselves steadily, firmly, in your excitement; as usual, you’re wasting energy needlessly. The urge to breathe more deeply overpowers me, and I break away from our kiss. Both of us are panting, and you keep moving your hips to increase the friction with my hand. You are squinting so hard that I think your eyes are completely shut. Your breaths are quick and ragged, like sobs.
It would be easy, right now, to mistake you for a wild animal.
I slide my hand easily under your waistband, and I touch you, very lightly, which seems to give you the idea of taking off the rest of your clothes. I withdraw my left hand from behind you to unbutton my fly, while with my right I help you untie the fastenings of your own pants and slide them down your hips. I stand up on my knees over you and strip off the rest of my clothes. You seem to be having trouble getting your undershorts off; your mind is trying to force your hands to move faster than they are able to, and I wait for you after I’m finished, watching, moving back a little more to give you room.
We had both somehow had the presence of mind to leave our sandals by the door, and so now we’re both totally naked—we even took off our forehead protectors. I drop back down on you, almost alarmed by the heat of your skin, and slide down so that our groins meet. Your cock is hard and pulsing; I push mine roughly against it, and again. And for some reason, I can’t see anything but your ridiculous yellow hair. I close my eyes and groan.
I open them again, surprised by your hand around me, spreading pre-ejaculate around the head of my penis with your thumb. "Touch me, Sasuke!" you whine, but I already am, my palm pressed over your cock, rubbing firmly up and down. But I know what you mean, this isn’t enough. I want you, too.
Your hand shoots sideways to a small table by the bed, loudly knocking several small items off of it. A drawer opens, and you pull out a small tube of something. You take the cap off.
You’re going to fuck me.
…I’m going to let you.
You’re still touching my cock, and I gasp when you tug on it; I think you’re trying to get me to slide forward. I scoot up so I’m sitting at the very top of your pelvis, then draw myself up on my knees so you can reach a hand underneath and rub some of the petroleum jelly into me.
It’s cool and a little uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt, and you’re still stroking my shaft slowly with your other hand. You’re being careful again, and seeing you touch me like this, feeling this uncharacteristic gentleness…seems to upset my sense of balance. I don’t want to faint. I don’t want to faint. I’m not going to faint.
Suddenly you push up hard, and you’ve got your first and middle fingers inside me up to their second knuckles. I open my eyes wide, but I don’t make any noise. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels so strange, and I can’t understand my own reaction; I don’t know if I like it or not.
You curl your fingers, and push them slightly farther in, with your right hand still moving slow on my cock, and I decide that I do like this—very much. I feel like I might ejaculate. I want to touch you, too. Touch your soft and wriggling body, feel your madness and abandon, soak your heat up with my hands.
I raise myself higher on my knees so that your fingers slip out of me, then grab the small tube that you’d set down beside us on the bed, and scoot back to sit on your thighs. Although I squeeze the tube hard, the petroleum jelly still comes out very slowly, but I collect a good deal of it in my palm and wrap my hand around your penis, spreading it over you.
You’re still squinting, and squirming, and you’re sweating a little. You moan loudly as I continue to stroke you, and you open your eyes when I stop. I wrap my fist around my own erection to wipe the excess lubricant onto it, then I move up closer and kneel above you, lowering myself over you and waiting.
You nod, and take yourself in hand, and find my anus with the head of your cock. As I lower myself down slowly, you begin to push up and slide inside. You stop when I stop, and start again when I do, until you have completely penetrated me. Your hips are raised about an inch off the bed, and you wait like that until I have relaxed enough to sit down on you.
It’s still a little bit uncomfortable, but not painful. I lean forward a small distance and place my hands palm-flat on your chest, and brace myself on them, keeping my elbows straight. You roll your hips up cautiously, barely moving farther in at all, then draw back. The movement is labored and shuddering; I think my body is giving you a great deal of resistance, and your own body is barely under your control. I let my head fall forward, squeezing my eyes shut and clenching my teeth. When you start to push yourself in again, I use my legs to help you.
After we have moved together a few more times, I begin to get used to the feeling of your length inside of me, and you seem to be getting better at regulating your own motions. And it feels electric. It makes me think for some reason of the feeling of being strangled—inevitable strength clamped down around my air passages, my lungs burning and my eyes stinging like they’re filled with smoke—all my body struggling uselessly to drink some air, any air…it’s a desperate, choking feeling. To try to resist it is like trying to swallow a hole. The feeling of you, moving inside of my body…it doesn’t hurt, it’s not unpleasant at all anymore, but it feels frantic like that, hopeless, furious.
There’s no way to explain how it feels, and no way to understand why, and no reason to try to think about it now. All of you is touching all of me. I don’t care why.
I let my breath out, slowly, wondering how long I’d been holding it. You keep me from moving too quickly by placing your hands on my hips. After a minute or two I feel myself start to relax a great deal more, and I sit up straight, removing my hands from your chest. I place my right hand on the side of your belly, and with my left I begin to stroke myself. I open my eyes and see that you’re watching me, panting. Seeing you look so out of breath reminds me to check my own breathing again, and I try to concentrate on keeping it regular.
…I can’t.
I raise my chin and roll my head back. My eyes fall shut and my mouth falls open, and I continue to ride you as you thrust. Your movements are getting harder now, fast and jerky, almost like you’re trying to buck me off of you. We’re falling out of synch because I can’t predict your thrusts any longer. I open my eyes and watch you struggling. Your eyes are wild, and they’re watering a little.
You shift, curling your body up toward me, but not sitting—I have your pelvis effectively pinned to the bed. You reach over and touch my left hand, and I stop masturbating and pull it away. You keep your own left hand on my hip, and you begin to stroke me with your right, faster than I was, but with a gentler grip.
For the first time, I allow myself to wonder why you did this, why you kissed me, why you wanted to touch me like this. How in the world did you even get this idea? Did you think about it beforehand, or was this only empty caprice, one of your frequent decisions made only by impulse? I sigh loudly, and it sounds like a moan. There’s no answer to this question. And your hand and your hips and your breath are moving faster, harder…I’m going to come.
Now.
You yell, of course, as you are accustomed to do. You slam your hips up hard, then go completely rigid, and you say something, but I can’t understand it because I’m coming right now and…
"Oh, God…Naruto!"
…thick ropes of semen out onto your chest and stomach, and oh God, oh God, Naruto.
I slouch over you, completely spent. My voice just now came out completely broken, and now my vision is strange, a little fuzzy and black around the edges. I’m not going to faint. Not going to faint.
I’m not going to faint.
I close my eyes very tightly for a few seconds, then open them wide, and breathe deeply.
"Sasuke, get off now! You’re heavy!"
Your voice jolts me most of the way out of my stupor. I nod dumbly and roll off to your right, and lay there on my side and look at you. You sit up halfway and turn, reaching over off the side of the bed, and fumble around on the floor for something. Then you grunt, and sit back up, bringing up two fistfuls off tissues, and you hand one of them to me.
I accept them. You nod once, then begin to wipe my come off of you.
My brain is working, trying to puzzle out what just happened and why. Realizing the impossibility of this, I shake my head, wearily, willing myself to stop thinking, and roll on my back. I decide to just try and pay attention to cleaning myself. I finish quickly, but I’m sure that bits of the tissue are sticking to me.
"Naruto. Where do I put this?"
"The trash can, dummy." You point, and crumple yours up and throw them somewhere in the corner of the room. I follow your example.
"Hey Sasuke," you say, just after I throw away the tissues.
"What?"
"Are you tired?"
"Yeah." I answer immediately, without thinking about it, because I am tired, and not only from sex. I’d been training for hours before this.
"’Cos I’m going to sleep," you announce, turning on your side to face me. You stare at me for a second, then shut your eyes tight. Then, quietly, you add, "…You can stay here if you want."
>I t>I turn on my side again, and reach out with my right hand and touch your face, on impulse; I’ve always sort of wondered what those little whisker-things felt like.
They’re smooth.
You don’t open your eyes. I let my hand linger on your cheek, running my fingers up and down a couple more times, brushing the corner of your mouth with my thumb. I never thought of it before, and it must just be because I’m exhausted, but the way you look on the rare occasion when you’re actually not moving…is really kind of an endearing sight. Like a hummingbird that’s keeping its wings still. It’s kind of nice, and you don’t get to see it often.
"I’ll stay." My voice comes out in a whisper.
But you’re already asleep, or pretending to be.
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