INCEST/SHOUTA WARNING!
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The first time was innocent; or so Hinata would say if she were ever to be questioned on it. She and Boruto had fallen asleep sharing a bed; a common occurrence when the head of household was holed up at his other house and the wife was lonely. Boruto acted the part of altruistic substitute for companionship, but Hinata saw that their son missed the father too. Loneliness and neglect were hard to combat on one's own, after all. They spoke while staring at the ceiling, dressing in their nightwear. His mom's bust shifted freely in her flowy gown; she kept them so well-supported during the day, though. But his interest in them was contained, at least, to boyhood curiosity.
Naruto was the matter of topic, and Boruto described him in inappropriate ways and Hinata soothingly defended his honor. "Your father dreamed about becoming Hokage," she said. "He must take it very seriously."
Boruto huffed, turned away, and said more to the pillow than to her, "He also dreamed about having a family."
They had fallen asleep some time after that. Not unordinary; in ways, Boruto seemed more dependent on his parents than his sister. Hinata slept soundly, turning infrequently from one side to another while the boy sprawled and kicked and turned and snored.
It was during one such turn that he plunged heedlessly into Hinata's chest and woke to the soft buffeting encasing his head. Part maternity, part blessing, all woman, plush around him like a gentle set of pillows. And lazy to waking, Boruto thought it was a pair of pillows cradling him, so he pressed a hand on one and gave it a squeeze. A soft, warm breath of a moan alerted him that he was stifled amongst his mom's pillows! He'd have jumped away had her arm – light on its own, but sturdy in the dead of sleep – not draped across him. So he was forced there, enflamed cheeks pampered by the milky pair that once fed him. It almost felt familiar… The closeness certainly reminded him of infanthood, and the scent of her…
Boruto closed his eyes and settled, trying not to lie to hard against the boob underneath his face. If I go back to sleep… Back to sleep, this would be harmless, and really, it was a harmless incident… until his eyes broke open again, unable to stave off the intrigue of an undisciplined boy.
The collar of his mom's gown was significantly lower than her normal, modest attire. Lace of pale lavender stretched gently across her bosoms, and Boruto's plummeting presence tested their ability to handle the weight of them. The gown slid down dangerously. She had once nearly passed out from embarrassment when Kiba's claw had nipped through her mesh top during training, baring just the slightest glimpse of the top of her breast. Now, the prize of the tit itself was close to exposure and she didn't even shiver.
Well, when the nipple popped free – courtesy of Boruto's hooked finger – she murmured. The summer night was not brisk at all, so the brown circle remained a smooth disc with a gentle nub seated in the center. Even so, Boruto awed at it. So different than his own. And my sister's! His sister's were pink and small, and hardly begged attention like the globe sloping to gravity.
He poked, and nothing happened. He poked harder, seeing his finger sink into her plump mound. He poked the nipple dead-on, as if to shove the nipple inside out, and then Hinata shifted. "Ah…" Bountiful breasts, and sensitive too… She did not give them the attention she should have when she was younger, though Naruto had made up for that, fucking her every chance he got until he became Hokage. Now they were tender and aching for attention.
Boruto didn't know how to communicate that attention properly, but he was very roused by them. If he had hoped for sleep before, he knew it would not happen now. His blood was running hot like when he was playing vigorously with friends… but different. He felt like he was perspiring harder than when he ran, like his body was forcing out sweat. And, strangely, it felt good to apply his privates against his mom's soft belly and thighs. It'd grown so uncomfortable and rigid down there! Normally, that only happened when he watched girls playing in their swimsuits in the streams…
He pondered how plump the nipple had become since first viewing it. He pinched roughly – not intentionally, but it caused Hinata to quiver and recoil – and gave a light tug. "Doesn't milk come out of them?" he whispered to himself, vaguely remembering how Mom would cradle baby sister to her exposed breast to feed her.
He was too old for baby's milk!... Still, though… He could not quench his thirst for knowledge of the plentiful breast. His mouth nuzzled first at the risen bud, searching for any trace. Unsatisfied, he slurped it into his warm mouth, tongue glazing it with saliva.
Hinata moaned aloud, the treatment stirring to her loins. An empty feeling stirred in her and split her legs open. Damp and hot, but nothing to envelope… The disappointment tugged her impulse to roll her pelvis in need. Her head twisted to the right, her pursed lips opening for bated breath.
Her writhing and turning onto her back had stolen her nipple from Boruto's curious lips. Milk had not yet come out from the nipple, but all the same, Boruto seemed fixated. Different yet same from Chocho… Hinata's gown, while somewhat conservative, flowed loosely; with a little bit of wedging, he popped her left breast out of the arm hole, closing the cloth in her cleavage while he hurriedly tested his intrigue with this nipple. His tongue flicked on it, padding it with saliva before slurping on it. He was up on an elbow now for leverage, leaning partly on her to suckle on her chubby chest.
She was once a kunoichi of skill; not renowned like Dad, but she had been a part of the prideful Rookie 9. Since those days ended and peace and motherhood monopolized her time, she had lost the tone of everyday life-saving exercise. While not heavy, her body had become softer, and his rigid penis indented the side of her stomach. And it felt particularly pleasant. He couldn't say why, but when he jabbed his hips to her body, bending his little prick until it was trapped between their bodies, it was satisfying. His lips peeled up at one side of their suction to let out a hot breath. "Mom," he wheezed, and jabbed his hips again.
Unconscious to him, Hinata shifted again, her chest heaving more than before while sweat matted her hair and gave the crimson of her skin a fine glow in the low lamplight. Her separated legs opened further to vent the heat, but nothing would sate unless it penetrated her.
Boruto didn't know what had come over him when his hand shoved down the hem of his bottoms. His groin just felt so stifled, and it was good to let it out, stretching far as it could with no restriction. Not that he had a staggering length of meat; he was still quite small, but reaching the age of further development. The slight three inches first poked against Hinata's meaty side before veering up and mashing between their two bodies.
Boruto immediately wheezed like the air was sucked from his lungs. Wow! That felt so good! His mom's gown was soft, but her heat radiated through and warmed his thumping cock. What was this?! Boruto fed his mouth more of her tit when his body was taken by spasming thrusts, vaulting his hips into her side as if attempting to rouse her. Hinata turned sharply so that he thought he had wakened her, but she murmured at her dream and stayed soundly within in. Her left arm lifted above her head, inadvertently sparing her breast of decency.
The apex of her thighs had become hot and sticky, resonating with the ministrations of the hands on her. She was waking up steadily; it would not be the first time Naruto-kun had come home to help himself to her vulnerable body. She didn't mind, even expressing encouragement that he partake of her femininity. Unconsciously, she was making space for him between her legs. But something was off. As her eyes opened, the reality that Naruto was not taking his place between her thighs, and that her right breast had found its way into her sleeping son's mouth. Must be sleeping, she deluded herself immediately since his eyes were closed and he was nursing babylike. She shouldn't startle him, should let him rest and pluck her breast out of his mouth before he was any the wiser. But then his hand came up, squishing her breast while his eyes visibly opened.
"Boruto!"
Thank heavens he didn't chomp down in his fright! The nipple came out with an indignant pop! and whip of heavy spit. The air was tingly now that her receptive breast was smeared with saliva; harder than before it had gone in his mouth. "Mom!" he exclaimed back, equally shocked by what had happened, as if lapsing back to his senses. He drooled a little before wiping the back his hand across his damp lips. His cheeks glowed pink with shame. Not like hew as trying something wickedly; he was curious, but it was a pitiful thing to say to his conservative mother.
Hinata shared his complexion, but she stayed from wiping off her spit-slick tit and hiding it back behind her untrustworthy gown. The nipple plumped out in exposure, glistening in the low light of the room. Finally, she thought to conceal with her hand, though it hardly removed it from sight and memory. And it somehow seemed trivial when she noticed the placement of her son's hands and the prominent jab to her tummy. She could not even bring herself to look down, rightly guessing what could stick against her so firmly.
Boruto switched his hips into the mattress, burying the thing underneath him, hoping to smother its intensity but only managing to exacerbate the condition. He wished for it to lose potency, but it had edged beyond the elastic band of his pajamas and continued to pump strongly. "I'm… I'm sorry, Mom," he grit into the pillow, struggling like he was about to cry.
"It's… it's…" Hinata's eyes veered off to the side, still only cupping her breast to hide it. She wanted to reassure him, but how could it be alright? Sons' love should be given in hugs and cheek kisses… not expressed in risen arousal. But she could not abandon Boruto, she decided when she thought of scurrying from the room to allow him time to collect himself. She wasn't the type to abandon someone in need, least of all her own son.
"It's alright, Boruto," she finally got out, not sounding convinced herself. "It's… normal."
Boruto turned one eye from the suffocation of his pillow to peek out at her. Her natural soothing tone assured him, but he was not about to pluck himself out of the embarrassment so readily when his small cock still held firm beneath him. "Mom, I didn't mean to," he admitted brokenly. His lower half shifted while he gave an agitated sound. He wanted to inch off the bed and escape the room himself, but to do so, he wouldn't be able to hide the blatant waving of his erection.
His discomfort was apparent and unbearable for the soft-spoken mother. She mulled over her options. Nothing should have made her make the decision, yet she adjusted herself onto one elbow, letting her breasts descend to their natural position; she slipped her right breast back into her gown. "There's… nothing wrong." She couldn't feign the smile she normally did when consoling her children. She paused again, looking elsewhere as if the answer was somewhere in the room. She chewed her bottom lip worriedly as Boruto went back to face-planting in the pillow. The easiest way to console him, the effective way… she had only done for Naruto, and sparingly. But to aid her son? Was it right?
Sakura-san had confessed to 'aiding' Naruto on tense missions without compromising her chastity. Ino-san had done the same for both of her teammates – "At the same time," she boasted proudly with a thumbs-up – and Hanabi… Hinata preferred not to hear about how her younger sister cheerfully sated the residents of the Hyuga manor. Hinata was the only one not to philander with her teammates; only with Naruto-kun… who could not have been said to do the same.
Hinata swallowed hard, and then observed her son again. If he dug his face any deeper in the pillow, he really would be cut off from air. He was all tense and stress. He needed to be undone…
"Boruto," she softly said and moved closer to him. He didn't respond. She hitched a hand over his waist, and though her resisted, she ultimately turned him onto one side, exposing the jut in his trousers. She was embarrassed to look at it, yet was it not Boruto more ashamed by it? She reminded herself that she was a mother now, and the figurehead at home that two children depended on for support and comfort.
Her arm carefully snaked around her son's head, pulling him into a hug that cushioned his face with her breast. His blue eyes came wide as saucers, the pink hue flaring across the bridge of his nose. He discerned the single bump against his cheek to be her other plumped nipple, and his mouth went dry and sticky. Twice, he smacked his lips after a failed attempt to speak, but all he got out was a weak and wary "Mom?"
She hushed him as she once had when he was a fussy baby. He felt the nostalgic tingle of comfort along his spine before the upending jolt of sudden intrusion. "Ah!" was all that came out his mouth this time, spacing his head from her chest when his stiff cock was encircled by Hinata's other hand. She had sunk beneath his waistband and stole the discomfort in a quaking fist.
Hinata seemed as aggrieved as him, stammering for him not to be loud. "I can help," she promised with a falter and hitch in her tone. Her hand was not strong, but it stayed firmly latched onto his grown erection – small as it was. Boruto refused her while making a halfhearted turn away; Hinata still held on so that he must stay. "It won't take… too long." She sounded less sure of this promise, and reflected in her eyes was a hidden memory. How long had Naruto stayed rigid when she had last used her hands to satisfy him? Years ago… he had snuck into her room when they had just started seeing each other, before even knowing each other intimately. He said he wanted to snuggle, she was uncertain if they should risk it when her father was still up and about; not to mention inquisitive Hanabi and her often-activated Byakugan. She had felt the lump he had applied to her backside. She couldn't help remembering when he confessed a brief, almost-professional fling with Sakura-san. She then felt compelled to prove her worth to Naruto, sliding him out of his pants and stroking him under his practiced guidance. When he was close, he brought out as much of her leg as he could from her sleeping white kimono and spent a shocking load of semen across her pale thigh. At least he hadn't aimed higher to her sex… She puffed and inhaled the scent of cum for the first time while Naruto fell flat on his back, smiling and panting and looking like he would fall asleep. Maybe he would have if she hadn't insisted that they not be caught together at such an hour.
Now she held her son's cock; smaller than Naruto's had been, but Boruto was younger than Naruto had been, yet still maintained a rigid vitality. Surely he knew about sex and masturbation and all those embarrassing things that Hinata would likely pass out for if she were to speak them aloud. Shino-kun had informed the Hokage about the lessons and his intended thoroughness; Anko had luckily taken over for the girls.
But now it was Hinata's lesson; Boruto her student. "Do you… know about this?" she asked nervously while pumping her fist over him.
He cringed, staying silent. It wasn't until a wetness spilled over from the tip that he nodded vigorously. "I know," and that was all he would say about it as his teeth held together in a scowl.
Had he done it before by himself? she wanted to follow with, but she held her tongue. Had he done it with someone else? Again, she thought of her husband and Sakura-san and their strict relationship. Boruto got along with Sarada-chan as well as Naruto had gotten along with Sasuke-kun in their academy years. Had Sarada-chan coerced innocent Boruto?
Boruto calling out had shaken Hinata from her trance to realize that she was tugging urgently on his cock. "M-Mom!" His hand struck out and held her tit; small fingers enveloped by her fleshy hills. He pushed his hips forward and wiped the messy pre-cum against her navel. He jabbed again at the dimple; instinctively, he was searching for an appropriate place to put his penis and plant his seed.
Between her thighs had grown sticky with nectar as her quim flowered. When had Naruto last stayed home? Hinata bit on her bottom lip before her jaw opened to let out a small, husky moan of her own. "Boruto," she wheezed softly before curling her needy hips at him, her top leg pulling open to permit him space.
"Gah!"
Hinata unraveled her arm from around her son's head, quickly fixing herself on an elbow to cup a hand in front of the pulsating penis. The foreskin had retracted to let the small head jut out, and then the jets of cum began to fire. Hinata blocked their way with the heel of her palm, letting the gooey mass slide down into her bowled fingers. Boruto, in the meantime, buried his head between her tits, muffling the sounds of his pleasure as he spent his first load into his mom's hand.
Though she had been out of practice with handjobs, she still knew how to work the shaft when Naruto tugged out of her to finish elsewhere; oftentimes he would urge her to grab him and tug the release from him, which often wound up as a mess over her breasts. Naruto liked staining those dark circles with his white. Boruto had no preference but what his mom's hand provided.
"Oh!" He had given her more than her dainty hand could handle. His ejaculate overflowed across her fingers and began to saturate his dad's side of the bed. A good thing he was staying at the office tonight, she supposed.
As his father had after his first handjob by Hinata, Boruto fell limp and tired; not smiling but bated of breath. He kept in the clutches of her deep cleavage, hiding his expressions and avoiding her eyes. Perhaps best… Hinata did not know how to proceed from here short of asking him to fetch a wad of tissue.
His face nuzzled her soft mounds for a moment before he finally peeked out at her. She smiled, wanting to brush his soft hair but the abundant stains over her hands were better set south. Her smile lessened. She looked off to the foot of the bed. "Maybe you should clean up in the bathroom," she said softly while considering the plentifulness in her hand. "And… go to bed."
She felt Boruto's heart in that moment; dejected and cast off from his mom now. Though she couldn't sway her mind; she needed him gone from her side, at least for the night, so that she may consider what she had just done.
He slunk out of the bed, taking no enjoyment as he raised his pajamas back over his waned cock. He didn't even look back at her to say goodnight or I love you; perhaps he knew her well enough that such words would confound and trouble her at the moment.
Of course she loved him, but the batter spilling over in her hands, soaking her husband's spot in their bed made her waver. If so much was left over, Naruto would tell her to taste it…
The scent of Uzumaki seed wafted so close to her nose, igniting the passionate nights of her youth with Naruto. He was relentless in those days, as if intending to impregnate her before their vows were given. She could sup on his legacy now, and her heated loins concurred.
But she did not. Before she could dab a curious tongue in the puddle, she hurried off the bed, made it to the restroom, blotted up the cum in several rolls of toilet paper, and flushed it from her house.
When she was washing her hands of the musk, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A face flushed with excitement, and her right breast emerged from her gown again… Probably when Boruto shuffled out from between them and she did not notice. But she did notice that he had left a bitemark to commemorate her devotion to him.
She bowed over the running faucet and whimpered. Her thighs tucked together tightly, the damp hair prickling her sensitive, heated flesh.
What was she to do without her Naruto there?
The next morning came with breakfast, usual droned morning greetings, and not a word about last night. Hinata had worried that Boruto would be strange or traumatized from last night – his favorite breakfast would ease him into the shocking morning – but he arrived disheveled from bed as always, grumbling a "Morning…" to his mom and sister. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and waited to be served. It was more – or less? – than Hinata could have hoped or expected. "Uh, g-good morning, Boruto." She set his eggs and bacon in front of him, which he started to eat at once. An appetite… That was a good sign. Hinata breathed out relief, having prepared for awkward gestures and glances from her son. But she got nothing but a filled boy eager to get outside.
"I'm meeting with Shikadai and Chocho. Inojin is with his mom at the flower shop today, so they need me to fill their third slot."
Hinata was all too happy to send him out of the house to live the normal life a boy should live. She smiled very joyfully for her reserved self. "Have fun. And be safe." She had escaped a very awkward discussion for now.
"Right!" He snatched up his jacket hung up on the coat rack and sped outside as his sister huffed and complained about him not inviting her. "He's practicing hard to become a great ninja like your father," Hinata soothed her, still picking clean the table of plates.
The daughter fussed and made a puffy face. "I was able to take Daddy down," she reminded her. "Boruto should ask me for training tips."
Hinata laughed a little. Not soon would it be forgotten that the wakening of the daughter's Gentle Fist had happened on Naruto's inauguration day. Setting the dishes into the sink, she looked back at the little girl. "Would you like to see your dad?"
"Yeah!"
After the dishes were washed and set aside to dry, mother and daughter traversed the bustling streets of Konoha, and while the daughter rushed to vendors to see their wares, Hinata made a beeline to the Hokage tower. Her opal eyes glanced above the majestic manor to the faces in the cliff wall. Seven of them; she remembered when there was only five, Tsunade-sama's likeness being the last in line, at a time when Naruto boasted endlessly that he'd be the next Hokage. Well, it came eventually, she considered. But it certainly came at a cost.
Naruto had slept at his desk. She could tell right away by the ink on his cheek. Tsunade-sama could be caught like that as well, if you found her in the morning before Shizune. But Shikamaru wasn't so dutiful about little matters, and maybe it amused him. It wasn't until Hinata arrived that Naruto realized the smudges, and Hinata proceeded to rub it off for him whilst their daughter clamored around the room, as if there was anything exciting to find amongst the stacks of documents and empty ramen cups,
"Sorry for not being home," Naruto sighed when Hinata's tissue drifted away from his now-clean cheek. "The Raikage is saying something about a missed date for ninja cross-training, and the Mizukage keeps sending apologies for trade issues." The chair creaked as he leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "I have to go through all those scrolls, ya know. If I miss something important…"
"We understand, Naruto," Hinata said understandingly, folding her hands in front of her waist, smiling warmly at her husband. He gave a smile back; one of a tired man, one who doubted her. She could not face that look, feigning her gaze off to the side while biting her lip. "Boruto… misses you."
The mention of his son made Naruto groan out loud. "I'm trying to keep the village in line," he said as if Boruto were there. "It's hard to also raise him when…"
"That's why there are two parents, Naruto," she hurriedly assured him. She leaned onto him, grabbing him by the arms gently. She looked deep in his eyes, and he looked back. Hers sparkled. "I can… I can handle our children while you lead us all."
"Hinata…"
It was that rare, warm moment that had Hinata's heart flutter like he was beyond her reach but still turned around to look her in the eye. Her lips heated. He'd lead the kiss; she was always too shy.
"Daddy!" The girl interrupted right before the stack of documents spoiled the mood entirely. Naruto, midway to kissing his wife, dropped back in his chair when he laid eyes on the mess. He said her name, exasperated. The girl didn't look troubled by her accident, placing her fists on her little hips and glowering at him. "You should come home more! This place is boring!"
Naruto couldn't decide whether to be upset or grin and acknowledge his lengthy absences at home. "I have a duty to the village and the other villages," he ended with her name to educate her. She fussed and refused his reason. And they would have had a tantrum on their hands had the door not opened for Shikamaru, meandering in with another string of scrolls held up like a bento.
"More from the Mizukage," he dully jeered before realizing Naruto's company. "Oh, Hinata." He also addressed their daughter.
Hinata, feeling a bit flustered being caught bowing into the Hokage, straightened. "Oh, hello, Shikamaru-kun." She politely bowed, and he simply nodded in kind. Simple courtesies were exchanged, but Shikamaru was swift to get to business and address the package of scrolls. Naruto sulked, the bright in his blues dimming quickly. What was a hearty family moment fell to business as usual. The Hokage groaned, rubbing the back of his head as the work he had nearly finished with throughout the night bulked up again for another, long struggle.
Hinata's eyes became downcast. Even to her, the list of duties Shikamaru went through was woefully tedious. When she looked to her spouse, she saw something in his eyes. His poor eyes that were once always so far-off and happy… Was it regret? The decision to become Hokage… and in a time of peace… Really, what qualified Naruto to be Hokage when he sought adventure and action? Having already achieved acknowledgement from Konoha and far beyond, the job seemed ill-suited.
"You should go, Hinata," he said amidst her wondering, rubbing his face under his palms. "This will be boring. Shikamaru said that I might as well be bolted inside for the rest of the day."
Hinata felt bad for taking the offer, but Hinawarmi (or something) immediately slammed her foot down and put on a forceful face. "I want to stay here with Daddy." She glowered at her mom, ready to confront any rebuttal.
But before Hinata could make the futile endeavor and wind up stuck in the office as well, Naruto said with as much cheer as he could muster, "It's fine, Hinata. She can stay." He addressed his daughter, giving her a nice, white smile. "How about this be a late birthday present, ya know?"
He was tired, but Hinata was glad that he offered. Their daughter jubilated, and leaving them together, she could attend to Boruto and last night.
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"You want me to what?" Chocho sat amongst the pile of snack chips brought in offering.
Boruto looked away, pink in his cheeks and seeming sullen. His mouth was tight as he said, "I… want you to touch it or something."
Chocho fumed, folding her fat arms and leering hard at him; so hard that he snapped at her to stop looking at him like that. She was known to pull her early-developed breasts out of her shirt if someone gave her their bento or supplied her with junk food when her mom insisted she go on a diet. She always boasted that the Akimichi were proud of their bodies, so why not?
"I don't just go around, doing stuff like that, Boruto," she announced in profuse offense, swinging away from him. She let on a drawn-out pause, then peeked back at him. "But," she said carefully, her brown face flushing a little, "if you were your dad…"
Boruto snarled hard at that condition. Like his dad needed something like this to boast his ego and congratulate him for being a terrible father! Even if Chocho would agree to a transformation, Boruto wouldn't do it! "There's no way, Chocho!"
She shrugged nonchalantly. No skin off her nose… No snack bag out of her stash. "Alright," she dismissively said, "but I'm keeping all this bounty." She knelt down deep, splaying her legs, belying her round figure while also flashing up her skirt. Boruto peered without thinking. She wore white underwear, and it seemed too small for her, as it followed every crease of her crotch. While giving Boruto a free show – or was this just her way of matching his offer without doing what he wanted? – she sifted through the bags, carefully setting her favorites in one pile, doubles in another, and the quick-to-eat/quick-to-enjoy in a final pile. Fifteen bags in all; she was impressed that Boruto would give up so much.
She got back up, clapping her hands as if she'd done some hard groundwork. She preened at him. "Well, you did give a lot." She grabbed the collar of her white kimono in a motion to open them up. "Do you want to see? You can even have a touch… if you promise to bring candy tomorrow."
Boruto was almost about to turn away, but his cock had already made the decision to stay. He grumbled behind his lips, and then gave one nod. Without hesitation, Chocho widened the vee of her top and shoved one pudgy hand down. Out came a plump breast, soon followed by the other. The fishnet obscured the shade of her flesh, but her nipples were distinct, a tone darker than the rest of the hills. She balanced them both on her hands to put them on display.
"Not bad, right?"
Boruto swallowed. His cock started to thump in his black slacks. He nodded, but immediately thought that his mom's were far more impressive. He imagined streaking Chocho with his penis spit like he had Hinata. However, Chocho had already said that she would not entertain that sort of idea. Nevertheless, he grabbed at his groin. Chocho took notice of this and said slyly, "Getting hard? Not surprising when you have such a beauty in front of you?"
Boruto whined a little. Desperate, he asked, "Can you please just… touch it a little?"
"Uh-uh!" Chocho declined again, quicker this time, and rougher. She let her tit drop from one hand so that she could wag a finger in Boruto's face. "No way! That sort of privilege is saved for Shikadai and Inojin. If I give them handjobs before family practice, they'll go easy on me. Mom likes to think that I'm improving faster than them." She smirked proudly at the clever – if not immoral – scheme. Her dad kissed her hand when she won those fights, not knowing that that same hand had jerked off one of his friends' son.
"It's just that it… hurts." He pulled more at his trousers, hoping to appease Chocho's mercy.
"Then jerk off yourself!" She tucked her breasts back in her top. The show was over. "But not now! I can't hang around all day to see you cum! Dad's taking me to barbeque today!"
"Just… just…!" In a last-ditch effort, Boruto fished out his cock so that Chocho could see for herself. Maybe that would be enough for her to agree to a pity jerking… But no. She just regarded the cock with semi-interest; she'd seen bigger when she peeped to the men's side of the bathhouse.
But maybe she was not completely without mercy. She walked over to him and set a hand down hard on his shoulder, and then said, "If it's that much of a bother, why not just have Himawari (or something) take care of it? She's your sister. She's obligated to help you out and not tell your parents."
Boruto half-listened, but focused more on the very faint brush of his tip against Chocho's fleshy thigh. He considered cramming it all at once between her thighs and force her to take care of his hard dick. But was she on to something? Could his sister offer a hand?
His cock beaded some precum and spread it lightly on Chocho's smooth thigh.
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Boruto was not with Shikadai or Inojin; one was sitting amongst the marketplace to sketch the many passersby, and the other was hiding in a stairwell to prevent his mom and dad from seeing that he had his videogames glued between his hands. When asked, they both had said that they hadn't seen Boruto all day. That concerned Hinata, but there were few places someone could hide in Konoha from a master of the Byakugan.
Her eyes cracked and her world became an open abyss of lines, not surfaces. Three-hundred-sixty-degree, x-ray, far-reaching vision; Hinata scanned each chakra system in an instant, passing over the unfamiliar ones until she came to one that she knew straight away.
"Boruto's at home?" The Byakugan faded, its intensity turning to worry. Hinata was not good with confrontation, even after all these years. She could stand up for herself, prove capable in battle, but there was something about meeting out discipline that she felt more comfortable letting Naruto-kun handle it. But for this matter, he could not be a part of; not if she wanted to keep this family in its structure. If Naruto were to find out…
Hinata would not think of it and made all haste to home, leaping with such grace through the rooftops, landing with her toes perfectly on poles and posts that those standing underneath didn't even notice. She made it to the quaint residence of the Uzumaki, and held back for a moment. She did not want to barge in. She did not want her son to think she was upset (though, rightfully, she could be). She just wanted to… understand.
Byakugan… one more time, to confirm. And he was there, in his room. Sitting? Doing something… With his hand in between his legs.
She gasped, realizing that she was now outside his door. The soft sounds inside were indication that he was masturbating; she needn't the confirmation of her all-seeing eye to know this. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, her hand frozen just an inch from the doorknob. She shouldn't intrude and embarrass him like this. His body was going through changes, and he had to figure out what that…
"Ah! Himawarni (or something)!"
This, Hinata could not ignore! If he had moaned out for her herself, she would not have thought it necessary to intervene. But if he was thinking of his sister…
She opened the door – glad that he hadn't locked it in any way – and intruded on Boruto's shameless flogging of his cock. "Boruto," she said softly while he yelled out in shock and humiliation. His two hands buried his cock underneath themselves, but Hinata had already seen it was there. She looked at his groin. He had taken his pants off fully, along with his boxers. Most boys – or Naruto-kun, for her knowledge ended there for the understanding of boys – usually pulled it through their fly to get at their insistent erections; easier and quicker to put away if you mind the zipper's unforgiving teeth.
"Mom?! I-I thought you were gone!" His legs drew up tight to help hide his cock.
Hinata bypassed his assessment and the reasoning for her return. She balled a hand into a fist. "We… we should talk… Boruto." She closed the door softly behind her.
We should talk? Boruto would think anything better than that. He would have wanted his mom to go outside his room, close the door, and forget ever interrupting him. Hmph… He would have to ask Inojin for a favor to ensure it was forgotten.
He wasn't so lucky to have a mom who would turn and leave. No, she had cemented her stay the moment the latch hitched behind her. She approached. Why did she have to approach?! If they must talk – and he contended that there was no need! – couldn't she stay as far away from him as possible when his erect dick was stifled under his pillow? Even now, it stayed hard while he wished that it would shrivel. He'd done enough with it and his mom; he did not want it to be a constant memory, though this was only the day after.
For a long while – a shorter moment than it felt – there was silence, and Hinata seemed very unlike a mother; more like a nervous schoolgirl idling her fingertips together and looking off to the side of the floor. She started with an awkward "Uh…" She didn't walk in with any planned speech, but she'd go in stride, finally setting her eyes on her boy. Again, he wished she wouldn't. He'd been bold and perfectly stupid in his reckless arousal; he'd kicked off his pants after getting home in his room, the appeal of Chocho's smooth flesh as he tried to grind into her.
"Whoa," she had said, pulling back when she felt his hard dick slipping sloppily against her plump thigh. His pre-cum strung between them, he was so virile. She both grimaced and grinned at the sheen of goo he spread over her skin like a thin jelly on a biscuit. Inojin and Shikadai both could plaster her – and have in the past – so this was a small trickle to her… but if he let loose… Chocho imagined he might put out almost… maybe less… a lot less… Well, her fantasies about Boruto's dad were extreme, vivid, and utterly messy. No way that boyish sac of Boruto's contained a fraction of the unrealistic volume she imagined the Hokage's shaft would pour over her face while peers and her mom watch and either applauded or boiled with jealousy.
She might have denied him, but Boruto was heated by the acknowledgement she gave to his cock. It felt good just to have her look at it, and she even flicked it; a light, playful thing that stung the tip with pleasure. "Just get your sister to do it" was her parting advice, and Boruto was erection-dumb by that time. He had hurried home, made sure he was alone, and made it to his room with all manner of encouragement and a mind filled with filthy fantasies.
Hinata had started talking, but for her fumbling and rambling, softspoken, she couldn't compete with the humbling THUMP!THUMP! of his pulse in his ears, pummeling his brain. All was mute, but he could guess the admonishments; his mom wasn't the best at laying down discipline. She was better at suggesting alternatives, reprimanding when needed, but always closing with something meek along the lines of "It might be better to do it this way" or "We would appreciate it if you didn't do that", always riddled with stammers or pauses.
He was already planning how to respond for when her speech ended. Obviously, an apology with sincere shame. He'd improvise, admit he was ashamed of himself since… since last night. It wasn't like when he was scolded by his dad for being rebellious; he revered his mother more.
"And so…" Hinata paused and visibly mustered her courage before her hands went to the hem of her usual, milf sweater. Boruto's attention was caught, but his reaction time – supposed to be honed by ninja training – lapsed and his only response was a dropped jaw with the top – sweater and shirt underneath and even the stressed bra – and her bare breasts fell out; one large round globe of breast, and then the other caught up when the lopsided lift accommodated the further one. They didn't bounce much, held down by their own weight. Naturally big breasts, inflated by two instances of childbearing, faced him with cute nipples pert and pebbled.
She folded the bundling of clothing instinctively, needing something ordered amongst this display of impulse – more expected of her husband than herself – and waited for a moment, her own nerve suffering by the commitment. Boruto was lost in silence and stillness. She wondered if he was alright or if he had some sort of mental break. Naruto-kun acted… similarly when she first exposed them to him; he gawked for a long time before making a move.
"If this will help," Hinata continued on from where she left off, blushing all the while and struggling to look at her son, "I'm… I'm willing to make the arrangement."
Boruto had been deaf to her until now. If he had listened, his mom had gone on a quick – albeit full of stutters and pauses – speech about what was appropriate between family relations. "What happened… last night…" She had busied her fingertips against one another. "We shouldn't have… but…" Her cheeks blushed bright, her being unable to finish the thought. She gestated briefly. "I-I understand that, maybe… You're growing up, Boruto. Your father… he's really busy most of the time, so he can't talk to you…" Her head dropped a little. "I think, I think I can help. Um, your sister is… She…" She gulped, thinking of her sweet daughter who was left back in the Hokage office to spend time with Naruto; she waned to be helpful to him since she barely got to spend time with him. Hinata just wanted to keep her out of this with Boruto, who had his father's impetuous impulses at times (I would think…). "If it helps, I think we can… Last night wasn't… so bad…" She ducked her head, like sense had struck her noggin as punishment. It wasn't her normal process to be impulsive, but it worked out so well for Naruto-kun that…
"And so…"
She pulled her top clothes off, underwear and all; she felt the stress of her unbound breasts pulling at her. And at once, Boruto snapped out of his wayward gaze to appreciate her. She was stacked! Not a secret since her teenage years – maybe some even saw before that – but seeing them burst out, unencumbered by the stuffiness of her bloated tops. She was such a shy, reserved woman, hiding them beneath so many thick layers; sweaters even on hot summer days.
They rested upon his knees. She moved deftly in spite of her conservation and knelt ahead of her son. He felt them; felt their yield and spread over the surface of his thighs. Warm… And it tingled up to his groin. His balls drew up against his pelvis.
Naruto-kun… really likes when I do this for him. So his mom carefully ushered her big tits forward to embrace his modest cock. Naruto was significantly larger; little Boruto was absolutely smothered by her pillows. Merely rubbing up against them last night was enough for him to meet completion, so a little bit more should speed the process.
"But, Mom!" stammered the blindsided Boruto, clasping his fingers onto his bed's edge. He stared down at them, smooshed up over his crotch. He throbbed, and the deeper shade of crimson staining her cheeks, the little squeak from her lips, told him that he spilled over with that clear liquid that was neither urine nor that thicker, white goo. The transparent slime lubricated the malleable flesh; a warm and moist niche to holster him. Involuntarily, his hips pushed up against the inviting heat.
Boruto's face twisted in a cowering grimace. Like his mom – though not as profusely – his face glowed. Whatever argument he was meaning to contend with had begun to evaporate. Whatever syllable he formed at first only turned to unintelligible gurgles and moans.
Pressing her breasts together with her hands, Hinata intended to start, employing the methods she did with her husband, but then hesitated. Her husband… His dad. "Boruto," she said meekly, her eyes flitting weakly up to him. After a second of mulling, she softly told him, "… Just don't… tell… your father."
His chest was starting to heave; he was hyperventilating. He gave his answer: "I won't."
It was good for her to hear him say that. It wasn't merely a promise of secrecy; it was consent. There had been fear in her that he'd reject her, which would have disheartened her wavering endeavor. She almost smiled at him, but the task at hand required focus. Her breasts were heavy and hoisted with effort. Boruto's smaller size was of help; she didn't need drastic strokes to relieve him. Just small, fluttering flaps undulating around him. He sat in a sort of slant, stiff and tense, mouth open but jaw tense as he watched his mom work his genitals. He'd already been well-started before she interrupted, and even that interruption had almost pushed him over the edge.
Hinata held her throat tight, trying not make so much as a murmur while satisfying her son. He wasn't chatty like her husband who liked to provoke her modesty – which also stoked the growing heat between her legs. She was glad for his relative silence, though he jolted with erratic moans and yelps. In the empty house, his sounds echoed and worried the mother that they might be noticed. She tried to resist the urge to beg for his silence; instead, she hastened the movement of her bust, hoping to bring him to climax sooner. If he had any of his father's stamina – and being an Uzumaki, that was a likelihood – he could very well outlast her own efforts! She genuinely worried about that scenario, of an hour kneeling before him and working her chest to sweaty globes with nothing but abundant precum and perspiration building between them.
Her jiggling jugs flooded over his lap when at rest, though she tried to contain them. Her arms pressed them in, seemingly a nervous habit; it was effective. Boruto's cock hardly made an appearance, unable to stand tall in the overwhelming presence of her bust.
He watched her nipples mostly. Like a swirl on a blank sheet of paper, they drew focus. At the same time, the fleshy ripples undulating from the up/down motions couldn't be overlooked either! His mom had gone to such lengths to prevent their posterity! Now, he could not look at them the same again.
With a desperate shout, Boruto's small hands shot out and grabbed at her tits, trained to the contracted brown points. He didn't squeeze too hard – there was certainly passion in his grab – but it was unexpected to Hinata, who made a sharp gasp of her surprise. She didn't reprimand or refuse him. Her nipples itched when his groping tightened on her buds. For their size, her breasts were sensitive – it may have been big in part due to her own reservations of them – so her breath hitched with a lusty gasp—"Boruto!"—and switched her methods. Na-Naruto-kun always likes when I do it… like this… She rolled her breasts now, overlapping one another in cycles, changing the way she rubbed him, now knocking him back and forth in opposing tides of supple flesh. Naruto's large cock could hold against the storm; Boruto, on the other hand, was swept into the waves immediately, enveloped and overturned. His noises quickly became louder and more urgent.
Maybe, Hinata considered. Maybe it was best to advise her boy to announce his release so she could find something to catch it all in. Maybe the cups of her discarded bra? They were like bowls, after all, and could be washed at her discretion. She could extract him from her cleavage and satiate his mounting pleasure with her hand while grabbing the bra with the other. Then she'd aim him and…
"Omp!" Boruto's bottom lip pulled up tight as he threw his head back. He quivered and quaked and tensed; all telltale signs.
Hinata gasped. The bra was too far away to snatch up in an instant. "Wait! Boruto! Let me…!"
Too late! The warm spurts jetted and greased the insides of her breasts. A big load, even compared to the sloppy mess he left on her last night. Hinata's surprise left her chest open, her breasts falling onto his thighs, opening her valley so that his squinting eyes could watch his furiously twitching cock spit onto his mother's bosoms.
Hinata tucked in her chin, watching in silent apprehension as the semen stacked on her sternum. Thick strands strung from the insides of her full, round breasts onto his shaft from the stifled bursts; the freer shots had welled up and trickled down towards her navel. Instinctively, as Boruto's hips desperately humped at nothing, Hinata latched two fingers around him and stroked to spur on the eager release. She got out a few more doses of healthy semen before the shots turned to dribbles.
"Oh," started Hinata, carefully extracting the erection – it was still an erection?! – from her chest. "I meant for you… Um… It would have been better to…" Her hesitant mouth was pressed upon by Boruto's impulsive lips. He smeared his kiss on her in desperate elation, and Hinata froze entirely. With a whimper, as his tongue lapped at her lips, teeth and tongue, she put her hands on his shoulders – he felt the full weight of her bust on his thighs – and just stayed there; neither pushing nor pulling him into the reckless ravaging of her mouth. Despite its taboo, she felt something like happy sharing this intimate connection with her son. He was so dedicated to the family, and usually so frustrated by his dad's absence. This arrangement; it may soothe him. She decided to answer his tongue with her own in gentle, coaxing laps.
"U-wah~!" Boruto had run out of breath – as he was already short on it to begin with – and must withdraw with a string of spit splitting between them. Gasping, and even Hinata was mildly winded by his passion, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his arm, onto his sleeve. "Mom," he breathlessly stuttered, and looked her over. Big breasts spilled over his legs, streamed with his white cum, her face slightly flushed and lips glossy from his wet kiss, eyes uncertain but stayed on him. Some shame started to swell in him. The prolonged erection was painful and upset his thoughts, provoking his mom to take these extreme measures. He didn't regret it, and his balls were somewhat soothed, but she… "I'm"—Much like his mother, he stuttered—"… Sorry…" He looked away now, unable to summon the little strength left in him to meet her gaze.
"No!" she blurted out swiftly. "No, Boruto! Don't feel bad! It's not your fault!" She gulped. "As-as a growing boy…! Eh…" She wasn't quite sure if now was a good time to employ the 'changing of body' speech, not when Boruto visibly blanched at the mere start of it. She decided not to go that route and instead switch to cleanup. Boruto's mess was heavy on her. She might just take a shower now. His erection would need a few tissue to really clean, but…
Hinata blinked. Erection? She gave a start. Yep, it was still hard! It'd be rather impressive if Naruto didn't insist on all-nighters to satisfy his sexual appetites. But for an inexperienced and young boy, perhaps it was something to marvel at. Sticky with his own cum, he was unyielding and twitching, already beading with leftover sperm and a new onset of precum. He's… still hard… There was the option to let it go. She dealt with his first release, and that should be enough. Even Naruto, when pressed for time, could feel satisfied with just one go. But Boruto might feel rejected and frustrated to pull up his pants over that erection and be stuck with it with the memory of his mom's attendance fresh in his mind. Why not… just commit to it? And – if it could be a factor to her decision – the encounter had roused her. Naruto-kun had promised to be home, which meant they'd have a night of lovemaking planned. But work spiked, and he was unavailable. Small as he was, Boruto still had a present cock, and if she thought of it, his was the only other one in her life she'd entertained personally – in many Konoha villagers' fantasy, she entertained them by proxy.
Only now did she notice that her arousal had grown and moistened the crotch of her panties, almost to the point of oversaturation! She pushed her plump thighs together to test her sensitivity. A jolt of unsated pleasure shot up her spine; a tease when there was more pleasure to be had. Hinata thought it inappropriate, even in their current circumstance! Whatever lewd lusts she was feeling, an extra while in the shower would quell it all. She should clean him up, wipe herself down, and send him to the rest of his day while she bowed over her hand in the shower as her fingers brushed her little clit and crawled in her depths in a desperate imitation of Naruto-kun's cock.
"Um… maybe you should… lie back… Boruto…" She swallowed hard and breathed in the heavy musk of semen. Hmm… She inspected herself; the dripping cum all along her front. It might unsettle Boruto… Should clean up first…
Her removed sweater was a suitable rag to mop up the plentiful cum covering her. Her breasts wobbled from the firm, cleansing passes, though the smell lingered. At least it wouldn't smear her son when she… when she…
She swallowed hard again, her wide eyes traveling over to her boy. As she had instructed, he had reclined except for his elbows propping him up to keep vigil of her. His cock was still erect, lying along his pelvis, pointing to his face. Hinata felt her pussy pulse, puffing with arousal. How-how can I…?! Somehow, she did. She got up – though her knees buckled a moment and nearly dropped her weight – and self-consciously started with her shorts. The moment she flipped open her button and moved on to the zipper, she told Boruto, "You, Boruto… you should take off… your jacket."
Boruto continued his obedience while maintaining his watch of the exposure of woman. She had hoped his concentration would have at least momentarily shifted from her, but his was unshaken and hurriedly done away with his jacket and his t-shirt. Bare naked, he scooted up a little to bunch the pillows behind him. His penis constantly twitched with youthful excitement. No postponing or hiding it; Hinata had to go through with it. The zipper dragged down slow and loud in the powerful, electric silence between them. Boruto's chest began to heave in anticipation. All about Hinata was whetting his appetite, from her beautiful, flushed face to her tits that wobbled with any motion of her body, her widening hips and the tease of her panties when her zipper finally came down.
Her panties were nothing provocative. Naruto had urged her to wear sexy underwear and lingerie, but she'd just about fainted upon the sight of the skimpy black lines of silk that would hardly cover more than an inch of her bountiful breasts, not to mention the amount it would cover – or expose – of her vagina and bottom. Of course, that shock of embarrassment was also powerful fuel for her arousal; she'd deny her fascination just as rampantly as she let herself be fucked in every position willed by her Hokage husband.
She was just about as wet as she was on those nights. Her puffy vaginal lips were salivating, clinging to the panties that were slowly peeled away to unveil her heat. She heard the breath catch in Boruto's throat when her sex was exposed. Dark hair above the pink wet slit, her clitoris protruding readily at the crest of the labia, hole ready and open for penetration. She kept her pubic hair short and well-contained, as Naruto liked it; bald from time-to-time, which he also liked, but he never complained either way. He could sometimes tease her how the bald look made her seem very young before he devoured her.
Boruto wouldn't get the chance. He probably didn't even know about oral, as Shino-kun was always mum on sexual activity… unless it came to insect mating habits. But for this, Hinata abstained from using her mouth. She could have to clean him – as Naruto had taught her to do – but this was a risky venture. She knew the wisest thing to do was stop now, beg Boruto's forgiveness for her audacious actions over time, and bury the events in repressed humiliation. She did not do that, though, even if common sense screamed otherwise. She was hot and neglected and motherly and needy.
The bed sunk under her hands and knees as she prowled forward, covering Boruto's body underneath her own. Her hanging tits dangled just inches above him; bending her arms, they started to settle on his chest. She could feel his pounding heart through them. She positioned herself over him, correcting the line of his sex to hers for immediate penetration. Some more precum spilled out of him when she touched him, promising that he would not last long. That was alright. Haste to departure…
But as she lowered, the air of her arousal hot on his erection, she reconsidered. Naruto-kun always delighted in her riding him. He'd tease and goad her, knowing what things to say to really fan her humiliation to riotous frenzy, to where she could hardly object to his finger straying to another hole that she always kept sacredly guarded. He would say he loved her weight on him, but that was just it. She was full in figure; not heavy in the middle, but her hips were made to bear children, and her breasts alone were heavy. And Boruto was relatively small…
The worried mother instinct kicked in. She might hurt or smother him if… left in charge. It was irresponsible to tell him to lie back. It also seemed like she was trapping him underneath her. He should act on his own accord, learn on his own. And if he should choose to leave when presented with her, well… there was that too. And she'd be in the shower alone with her guilt and her fingers.
"I'm sorry," she apologized first, and the dizzy boy beneath her thought that she was above to recede. He would beseech her not to, but then she continued: "Could you… switch places with me?"
Confused for the moment, Boruto paused and then gave a nod with a nervous "Sure." Awkward as it was – and he did make a hand pass against his mother's so-smooth flesh – they changed who was lying back and who was looming over. Boruto actually felt smaller like this. His arms needed to stretch to brace on the bed around her, and her thighs easily fit his knees between them. It was like standing on top of a mountain and seeing a tremendous valley before him with greater peaks at the other end. Her twin peaks, of course, had settled flat but plump on her chest. Her hands pulled up partway to her blushing face, shifting her tits around her folded arms. He had to crane his neck to see what truly interested him, though, where his cock hung rigid above her pubic mound. He knew what to do here, from instinct and from class. He might've had an easier time mounting Chocho than his mom. And if Chocho had cooperated and given into his pleas, this situation might not have happened.
…
Should he be glad for that?
He decided to grab his cock and take as steady aim as possible. The silence between them was deafening. Hinata took a deep breath when his hips dipped. She felt his cockhead's presence even before he actually made contact with her cleft. Looking down between her tits, she watched intently while her son made his move. "You can do it," she said amidst a sudden burst of hiccups. To encourage him, she put a hand around to the small of his back to gently draw him in. His hips collapsed all at once from the merest push of her hand. He slid off course initially, but he corrected himself and surged fully into his mother's warm snatch. At once, he seized altogether with a wide, gasping mouth. She was… incredible inside! Wow! Before his mind could even process it, his hips jumped in a shallow, passionate thrust.
The impact rippled throughout Hinata, setting her tits in a subtle, hypnotic flow. She whimpered a little and opened her legs a little more for his following thrusts. Already, her pussy was trembling hungrily, even if he could not fill her out as well as his father. It was never really about size for her, anyway. She was weak to the anticipation to sex. There was a time when Naruto reached in her pants when sitting behind her, in public, in a field. He merely brushed her clit, threatened to invade her, and she was enveloped in the throes of an orgasm. Boruto's relatively deep thrusts were not as effective as the grinding of his pelvis against her clit.
Breathing deep and ragged, Boruto made his hits into Hinata's pussy. Though not large, his small size tightened his angle and had him rushing along the roof of her channel, striking very particular ridges that Naruto's deeper strokes often passed by. Boruto struck at her G-spot, unknowing that these wonderful pushes of his dick were very effective. However, it wasn't long before he noticed how she hopped with deeper moans or squeals when he pressed to that spot. He made a good endeavor, pushing through her snug walls, to keep at that area, wondering briefly if it was hurting her or pleasing her. When her legs lifted and drew around him to keep him close, he was certain he was doing something she liked. Despite his body's weakening posture, he powered onward, with the weight of Hinata's legs folded around him and her arms bringing his head to her breast. She whispered his name hotly in his blond hair, mewling that, with some reservation, he felt really good inside of her.
"It does!" agreed Boruto, though he looked as though he was being put through rigorous paces in training. He smacked his hips into hers again, the hair brushing against his pelvis, her flesh cushioning the impact. Her breasts had felt amazing around him, but this was more! This was beyond! The wetness lubed him well and clung to him, coating his tight sac when he pushed in fully and held their genitals together. "Mom!" His face buried in between her breasts, her cleavage deep when her arms pressed them together from the sides. Each time he plunged into her depths, there was an inflection to his hips; an immediate urge to get just a little bit further.
"Keep…huffhuff!... keep going, Boruto," panted his mom, her limbs constricting and keeping him from retreating. His little body was pulled to her, stifling the range of his thrusts, limiting him to bumps that came up woefully short of her thirsty cervix. Her walls began to puff up around him. Even for his small dick, the bloating of her vagina began to impede the haste of his movements. His arms immediately snapped around her, and he called out to her, though her breasts muffled his call.
She answered right back with a wail of her own, clutching him to her soft, mother's body. She had wanted to use her bra to contain his first; now, with her ankles locked tight under Boruto's buttocks, she encouraged him to usher into her the hot flow of his seed. He came readily to her delight, grunting and curling his groin into her. The incestuous flow sped up through her undulating walls, some of it making it to her womb's entrance. Some sprinkling made it through and occupied her.
Hinata shoved her face in her boy's windswept flaxen hair, embracing him as much as a mother could as she came. A prolonged squeal from her; she rolled her hips, collecting his warm discharge. From the moment she had shut the door of his room, she had gone with a heavy sense of trepidation and shame. Now, she felt a swelling pride to be harbor to Boruto's release. His cries of pleasure filled her bosom. She cherished him, holding him as his tension steadily ebbed and his body fell limp on her. Her pussy continued to squeeze him, though the rise of his erection had faltered. Soon, she expelled him and the cum that had not been secured in her uterus.
The two incestual lover recovered slowly, Hinata still clinging to him though her legs did start to lean and loosen. She held him to her, stroking his hair and keeping him to her bust. He was panting so hard, struggling to recover. She knew she needed to say something to him.
"Boruto…"
The door abruptly burst open, bringing both heads up together. And at the doorway, wide-eyed, was Uzumaki Naruto, the final vapors of his Kyubi form dissipating from around him. He'd gone in at superspeed, hence the door nearly breaking off its hinges. He now just stood frozen, seeing his son mounted atop his wife.
He just stood there, holding the hand of