Luffy x Hinata Pt1 (NTR)
Hey guys, sorry for the late upload. I originally planned to turn this into a separate story with 4 to 6 chapters, but I changed my mind and decided to compress it into 2 chapters here instead. This is Part 1. Part 2 just needs some editing. I'll upload it in 2–3 days.
Hinata byakugan cannot see Luffy's haki.
xxx
The first time Hinata heard it, she was tending to the hydrangeas along the shared fence that separated the Uzumaki property from the simple wooden house next door. The air was thick with the late afternoon humidity of Konoha, and she'd been focused on the soil, her fingers working with gentle precision.
Then it came. A sharp, high-pitched cry, unmistakably female, followed by a low, rumbling laugh she knew all too well.
It was Monkey D. Luffy, their neighbor.
He'd moved into the adjacent property two years ago, a plot of land that had been vacant since the last reconstruction. No one knew much about him. He appeared one day, built a simple wooden house with a wide porch himself, and planted a strange garden full of fruits she didn't recognize. He wore simple clothes, often just a red vest and shorts and his smile was a permanent, careless slash across his face.
He was… uncomplicated. A foreign element in a village of layered histories and hidden pains.
Hinata had offered a polite welcome tea that first week. He'd accepted, drank three cups in rapid succession, declared it 'good' and then asked if she had any meat. She'd laughed, a soft, startled sound.
The sound came from his open bedroom window, which faced their garden. Hinata froze, a clump of dark earth crumbling from her stilled hand. The cry was not one of pain, but of… something else. Something raw and primal that made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. It was cut off, then followed by another, this one longer, a moan that climbed and broke into a breathless gasp. Then there was the sound. A steady, rhythmic thumping of a headboard against a wall, interspersed with wet, slapping sounds and Luffy's occasional grunts, not of effort but of pure, unadulterated enjoyment.
Hinata's face burned.
She should go inside. She was a married woman, the Hokage's wife. She should not be kneeling in the dirt, listening to her neighbor have… relations. But her body refused to obey. She stayed rooted, her Byakugan, though not activated, making her hyper-aware of every sound. The woman's screams grew more frequent, less coherent, devolving into sobbing pleas of "More!" and "Yes, there!" and "Luffy!" His name, screamed like a prayer.
It went on for what felt like hours.
Her neighbor, Luffy was… prolific. Women came and went from his house at odd hours. They were all different, brunettes, blondes, older, younger but they all left with the same dazed, well-fucked look in their eyes, their steps a little unsteady.
The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in oranges and purples and still the symphony from next door continued. Hinata's knees ached from kneeling, but she didn't move. A strange, heavy heat had settled low in her belly, an unfamiliar and unwelcome flutter. She thought of Naruto, likely buried under a mountain of paperwork in the Hokage's office, his smile tired, his apologies already prepared for another missed dinner.
The contrast between her husband's exhausted absence and the vibrant, noisy life happening just a few meters away was jarring.
Finally, the sounds reached a crescendo. A deafening, guttural roar from Luffy and a shattering scream from the woman that seemed to shake the very leaves on the hydrangeas. Then, silence, broken only by heavy breathing and contented sighs.
Hinata scrambled to her feet, her legs prickling with pins and needles. She was gathering her gardening tools with clumsy haste when Luffy's front door opened.
He emerged first, shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, that did nothing to hide the powerful lines of his body or the… the substantial bulge that still seemed present even in his relaxed state.
His skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, and the massive 'X' scar on his chest seemed to pulse with residual energy. He was grinning, wide and carefree, his dark eyes sparkling.
Behind him, a pretty kunoichi from the Cloud Village, her uniform disheveled, her hair a wild mess, stumbled out. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, and she walked with a slight, wincing gait. She clung to Luffy's arm, looking up at him with dazed, worshipful eyes.
"Thanks for coming!" Luffy said, his voice carrying easily in the quiet evening. "It was fun having you."
"It was… incredible," the kunoichi breathed, her voice hoarse.
Hinata tried to become one with the fence, but it was too late. Luffy's gaze swept over and landed on her. His grin didn't falter, if anything, it softened at the edges.
"Oh, hey, Hinata!" he called, waving as if they'd just met at a market and not after she'd inadvertently eavesdropped on his hours-long sexual escapade. "Just seeing my friend off!"
The kunoichi blinked, noticing Hinata. A flicker of something. Embarrassment, pity, curiosity crossed her face before she smiled weakly. "Good evening, ma'am."
Hinata managed a nod, her throat tight. "G-good evening."
Luffy walked the kunoichi to the gate, gave her a friendly slap on the rear that made her yelp and giggle, and watched her disappear down the street with a dreamy sigh. Then he turned and ambled over to the fence, leaning his forearms on it.
The scent of salt, sweat, and sex wafted over to Hinata.
"Your flowers are looking good," he said, nodding at the hydrangeas. His eyes, however, were on her face. He looked utterly relaxed, completely unashamed.
"Th-thank you," Hinata stammered, wiping her dirty hands on her apron. "It was… loud next door. Is everything… alright?"
Luffy laughed, a full-bodied sound.
"Yeah! Everything's great! That was just… uh… training! Yeah! Really intense training!" He winked, a playful, knowing glint in his eye that told her he knew she knew exactly what kind of 'training' it had been.
Hinata felt another wave of heat flood her cheeks. "I see."
"Where's the little guy and the tiny princess?" Luffy asked, effortlessly changing the subject.
"Boruto is on a mission with his team and Himawari is inside drawing," Hinata said, grateful for the normalcy.
"Tell Hima I'll come by tomorrow! I wanna tell her about Skypiea!" His enthusiasm was infectious, childish and completely at odds with the carnal god she'd just heard through the wall.
"I will," Hinata said softly.
He gave her another bright smile, pushed off the fence, and stretched, his muscles coiling and rippling. "Alright! I'm starving. Gotta go find some food! See ya, Hinata!"
He sauntered back into his house, whistling a tuneless song. Hinata stood there for a long time, holding her trowel, the echoes of a stranger's screams and the image of Luffy's sweat-slicked torso burned into her mind.
xxx
The next day, as promised, Luffy came over. Himawari, who had been listlessly coloring at the kitchen table, lit up like a festival lantern.
"Luffy-nii!" she squealed, launching herself at him.
He caught her easily, spinning her around before setting her on his hip as if she weighed nothing. "Heya, Hima! Ready for the story of the Skypieans who live in Sky Islands?"
"Yes!" she cheered.
Hinata watched from the kitchen doorway as Luffy plopped onto their living room sofa, Himawari immediately curling into his lap. He began his story, his voice animated, his hands painting pictures in the air. He was ridiculous, describing the bird transforming into horse with an old man in its back and Skypieans using shellfist with so many abilities. Himawari listened, enraptured, her earlier loneliness completely forgotten.
And Hinata watched. She watched the way his strong arms encircled her daughter, so gently despite their obvious power. She watched the easy smile on his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he made a silly sound effect. She watched the corded muscles of his neck, the line of his jaw, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he laughed.
A possessive jealousy, sharp and bitter, coiled in her gut.
It was ridiculous. Absurd. This was her daughter. Luffy was just a kind, if bizarre, neighbor. But the feeling was there, hot and acidic. Himawari was hers, and she was nestled so contentedly in his lap, a place Hinata now couldn't help but imagine in a completely different context. She saw the woman from yesterday there, riding him, screaming his name. She quickly shook her head, forcing a smile as she brought out a plate of cookies.
"Thank you for keeping her company, Luffy-san," she said, placing the plate on the coffee table. "Naruto-kun is so busy lately, and Boruto has his own friends…"
"No problem!" Luffy said, grabbing three cookies at once and stuffing them into his mouth. "Hima's awesome! She's like a tiny ninja princess!" He looked down at the girl in his lap. "Right?"
Himawari beamed, snuggling closer. Hinata's smile felt brittle.
The seduction, if it could be called that, was a slow, insidious poison. Luffy never made an overt move. He never whispered sweet nothings, never brushed against her suggestively, never gave her lingering looks. His method was far more subtle, and far more effective: he simply existed, unabashedly and authentically, in his full, vibrant, hyper-sexual masculinity, right next door.
A few days later, it was the laundry. Hinata was hanging sheets in their backyard when Luffy emerged into his adjacent yard, carrying a large woven basket. He was, again, shirtless. He began to hang his own laundry, simple trousers, vests and then, without a hint of self-consciousness, a series of boxer shorts. They were plain, functional, but the sheer size of them made Hinata's breath catch. She tried not to look, focusing fiercely on her clothespins.
Then came the women's clothing. A lacy black bra, far too small for her own modest frame. A pair of red panties. A sheer stocking. He hung them with the same nonchalance as his vests.
"Had a visitor last night," he called over, catching her gaze. He didn't smirk. He stated it as a fact, like commenting on the weather.
"She forgot some stuff. Guess she'll have to come back for it." He shrugged, as if the inevitable return visit was just a minor logistical issue.
Hinata mumbled something unintelligible and fled inside, her heart hammering. She spent the rest of the afternoon acutely aware of that black lace fluttering in the breeze next door, a flag proclaiming his conquest.
xxx
It was a rainy afternoon.
Naruto was at a council meeting that would run late. Boruto was at a friend's house studying. Himawari was napping. The house was quiet except for the drumming of rain on the roof.
From next door, through the shared wall of Himawari's room (which abutted Luffy's living room), came the sound of a woman's voice. But this time, she was talking.
"…it's just so big, Luffy… I don't know if I can…"
"Don't worry! I'll go slow at first! But you gotta take it all!"
Hinata, who had been folding laundry in the hallway, froze. She shouldn't listen. She wouldn't listen. She took a step towards the stairs.
"Oh! Oh! Wait… just… ah! AH! There! Right there!"
Hinata's feet stopped. She stood in the dim hallway, the rain providing a perfect curtain of white noise. She was a shinobi. She was trained to gather intelligence.
This was just… acoustic intelligence. About her neighbor. For… security reasons.
She found herself sitting on the floor, her back against the wall shared with Luffy's house. She closed her eyes, her Byakugan activating without conscious thought.
The woman's, a civilian from the look of her simpler chakra network was a frantic, spiking star of overwhelming sensation. Hinata's vision bypassed the wall, and while she kept the image fuzzy, refusing to focus on details out of some last shred of decency, the impression was overwhelming.
She could see the massive outline of him, could see the woman's smaller form contorted beneath him. The sounds were now in horrifying, exquisite sync with the movements she could sense. The wet slap of flesh, the creak of furniture pushed to its limits, the woman's escalating cries turning into shattered, sobbing wails of pleasure-pain.
"Luffy! LUFFY! I'm—I'm gonna—!"
"CUM FOR ME!"
The final roar and scream were simultaneous. Hinata's Byakugan deactivated as if shocked. She was panting, her own body trembling, a slick heat between her thighs that shamed her deeply. She scrambled to her feet just as she heard Luffy's front door open and close.
Peeking from Himawari's window, she saw him. He was wearing a loose yukata, untied, flapping open to reveal his chest and stomach. He was escorting the woman, a pretty brunette from the village bakery to the gate. The woman walked like her legs were made of jelly, clinging to him. Luffy kissed her, deep and slow, his hand cupping the back of her head. When they parted, the woman looked utterly ruined and blissful.
As she hobbled away, Luffy turned. His eyes lifted and met Hinata's in the window instantly. He didn't look surprised. He smiled, that same easy, friendly smile. Then he deliberately ran a hand through his wild black hair, sighed contentedly, and let his yukata fall open even wider as he stretched, giving her an unobstructed view of the hard planes of his abdomen and the trail of dark hair that disappeared into his boxer he wore underneath.
Hinata ducked away from the window, sliding down the wall until she sat on the floor again, her face in her hands. He knew. He had to know she was listening, watching. And he wasn't angry or mocking.
xxx
The next day.
Luffy sometimes looked after a giant dog for a friend. A massive, slobbering Akita mix named Goliath that was almost as tall as Himawari when on all fours. One sunny Saturday, Luffy had Goliath on a thick leash.
"Hima! Wanna go for a ride?" Luffy called from his yard.
Himawari, of course, was ecstatic. Hinata watched from the porch as Luffy lifted Himawari onto the huge dog's back.
"Hold onto his fur, but not too tight!" he instructed.
Then, instead of walking beside them, Luffy vaulted onto Goliath's back behind Himawari. The dog didn't even stagger under the combined weight. Luffy's chest pressed against Himawari's back, his arms reaching around her small frame to take hold of the makeshift reins. Himawari was safely cocooned between his powerful thighs and his torso.
They trotted off down the street, Himawari's delighted laughter ringing in the air.
Hinata felt that jealous coil tighten viciously. It wasn't just about Himawari's safety or affection anymore. It was the image of Himawari held so securely against him, his body surrounding hers.
Hinata imagined herself in that position, sitting between his thighs on the broad back of the dog, feeling the movement of the animal beneath them translate into the roll of Luffy's hips against her backside. She imagined his arms around her, not holding reins, but roaming…
She gasped, shaking her head violently. These thoughts were treasonous. She was Hinata Uzumaki. She loved Naruto. She did.
But Naruto came home that night smelling of ink and exhaustion. He kissed her forehead, patted Himawari's head, wolfed down his dinner while scrolling through a mission report on a scroll, and fell asleep on the couch before 8 PM. Hinata covered him with a blanket, looking at his sleeping face. The love was there, steady and deep like a well. But it was quiet. It didn't make her heart pound. It didn't make her skin feel too tight. It didn't make her listen at walls.
xxx
It was a community street festival. Paper lanterns were strung up, food stalls filled the air with delicious smells, and children ran around playing games. Naruto had made a brief appearance, smiled for photos, and been whisked away for an emergency summit communication. Boruto was off with his genin team. Hinata walked with Himawari, holding her hand.
They found Luffy at a takoyaki stall, devouring balls of dough and octopus at an alarming rate.
"Luffy-nii!" Himawari broke free and ran to him.
"Hima! Try this! It's the meat of the sea!" He popped a takoyaki into her waiting mouth.
Hinata approached slowly.
Luffy turned his grin on her. "Hinata! You gotta try these!"
Before she could protest, he picked up a fresh ball with chopsticks and held it out to her. "Here!"
The gesture was innocent enough. But as she leaned forward to take it from the chopsticks, he moved it slightly, so she had to lean closer. Their faces were only inches apart. She could see every fleck in his dark eyes, smell the salt and soy sauce on his skin. She took the takoyaki, her lips barely brushing the wooden sticks.
"Good, right?" he said, his voice a low rumble meant only for her in that moment of crowd noise.
"V-very," she whispered.
He winked again. Then he was swept away by Himawari wanting to play a ring-toss game.
Later, as the festival wound down, Hinata saw him talking to a beautiful woman dressed as a shrine maiden from a nearby town. The woman was laughing, touching his arm. Luffy listened, then threw back his head and laughed that full-bodied laugh. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear. The shrine maiden blushed crimson from her neck to her hairline, then nodded shyly.
Hinata knew what came next. The script was familiar now.
She put Himawari to bed early, pleading a headache. She kissed her daughter's forehead and retreated to her own bedroom, the one that shared the thinnest wall with Luffy's bedroom.
She didn't have to wait long.
The sounds began within the hour. The shrine maiden's voice was softer, more melodic than the others at first. Her cries were like songbirds startled into flight. But Luffy's… soon changed that. The songbirds were chased by hawks. The gentle cries became sharp gasps, then breathless moans, then the same familiar, pleading screams.
"Please! Luffy-sama! It's too much! I can't—!"
"You can! Just a little more! You want it, don't you?"
"YES! I WANT IT! I WANT ALL OF IT! GIVE IT TO ME!"
Hinata stood in her dark bedroom, still dressed in her yukata from the festival. Naruto wouldn't be home for hours. She was alone with the sounds.
She didn't sit against the wall this time. She walked to it. She placed her palms flat against the cool plaster. She could feel the faint vibrations. She closed her eyes and did something she had never allowed herself to do before, she focused her Byakugan with clear intent.
The wall dissolved in her vision.
There they were, in stark, painful detail. Luffy was on his back on the bed, which was surprisingly large and sturdy-looking. The shrine maiden was riding him, her ceremonial robes torn open and pushed down to her waist. Her head was thrown back in ecstatic agony as she bounced frantically on his lap. And there, between them… Hinata's breath left her lungs in a silent rush.
Massive was an understatement. It was a weapon of carnal destruction, thick and veined and impossibly long, stretching the woman to a limit that seemed both painful and rapturous. Every time she sank down on it, her eyes rolled back in her head. Luffy's hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, guiding her, lifting her, slamming her back down onto him with a force that shook the bedframe.
Hinata watched, transfixed. She watched the sweat drip down Luffy's torso. She watched the raw power in his abdomen as he thrust upward to meet the woman's descents. She watched his face—not a mask of lustful cruelty, but of intense, focused enjoyment and encouragement.
"That's it! You're doing great! Take it all!"
The woman could only sob in response.
Hinata's own hand slipped inside her yukata. Her fingers trailed down over her stomach, lower. She was soaked. The shame was there, a distant echo drowned out by the roaring need in her blood. As she watched Luffy bring another woman to a screaming, convulsing climax before following with his own earth-shattering release,
Hinata touched herself for the first time in years thinking of someone other than her husband. Her climax was silent but violent, shuddering through her as she slumped against the wall, her forehead pressed to the plaster now damp with her own sweat and tears of confusion.
She heard the aftermath, the murmured thanks from the woman, Luffy's cheerful goodbye. She heard his door open and close.
This time, she didn't peek from the window. She knew what came next.
A soft knock came at her own front door.
Her heart stopped. She hastily straightened her yukata, wiped her face, and padded downstairs on trembling legs.
She opened the door.
Luffy stood there. He was wearing clean shorts and nothing else. His hair was damp from a quick rinse. He smelled of soap and clean male skin. In his hand was a small container.
"Hey," he said softly. The ever-present grin was gone, replaced by a gentle, open expression.
"I bought too much takoyaki tonight. Thought you might like some." He held out the container.
It was a flimsy pretext. They both knew it.
Hinata stared at him. She saw the man who made her daughter laugh. She saw the man whose voice carried stories of sky islands. She also saw the man whose monstrous cock had just wrecked a shrine maiden in the room next to hers, the image still seared onto her retinas.
She saw her seducer.
And he hadn't done a single thing to actively seduce her. He had merely lived his life loudly, proudly, sexually next door to a woman whose own life had become so quiet.
The choice was hers.
Her hand reached out slowly. Instead of taking the container of curry, her fingers brushed against his where he held it. A spark jumped between them.
Luffy's dark eyes held hers. There was no pressure there. No demand. Just… waiting.
Hinata's lips parted. The words that came out were barely a whisper, but they echoed in the silent night like a declaration.
"Would you… like to come in?"
The three words hung in the air between them, fragile and final.
Luffy's expression didn't change, but something ignited in the depths of his dark eyes. He didn't smile his usual grin. He simply stepped forward, over the threshold of the Uzumaki household, and as Hinata moved back to let him pass, he closed the door behind him with a soft, definitive click.
The sound of the latch engaging was like a starter's pistol. The fragile tension shattered.
Hinata moved with a speed that would have made her Hyuga ancestors proud, but it was not a gentle fist that struck. She surged forward, her hands flying up to cup his face, and she crushed her lips against his.
It was not a skilled kiss. It was desperate, hungry, messy. A dam had broken inside her, releasing years of quiet longing, simmering frustration, and weeks of voyeuristic obsession in a torrential flood. She kissed him with such frantic enthusiasm that Luffy actually stiffened for a split second in surprise, his body registering the unexpected force before instinct took over.
With a low growl that vibrated from his chest into her mouth, he kissed her back. His lips were firm, demanding, and hot. He tasted like the night air and the faint, clean tang of the toothpaste he used. Hinata moaned into the kiss, a high, needy sound she didn't recognize as her own. Her hands roamed from his face, down the column of his neck, over the impossibly hard planes of his shoulders and chest. The skin was warm and smooth over steel-cable muscle. The scar under her fingertips felt like a brand.
Luffy's own hands were not idle. One tangled in the silken fall of her dark hair, tilting her head for better access as his tongue plunged into her mouth, claiming it with a dominance that made her knees weak. The other hand yanked at the sash of her yukata. The knot gave way easily, and the garment fell open.
He broke the kiss for just a second to look down, his breath hitching. Then his large, calloused hand pawed at her breast, his thumb brushing roughly over her peaked nipple through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
The sensation was electric.
Hinata gasped, her own hand finally daring to slide down his taut stomach, past the waistband of his shorts, to find what she had only seen and imagined. Her fingers wrapped around him through the cotton of his boxers, and her mind went blank with a static of pure awe. Even soft and resting, he was immense. The heat radiating from him was staggering.
The kiss was devastating. It was nothing like the sweet, sometimes clumsy kisses she shared with Naruto. This was a battle for air, a sharing of souls through spit and teeth and tongue. It was raw, carnal communication. Hinata felt a coil of pleasure tightening deep in her belly, a shocking intensity building just from this alone. She was teetering on the edge, her hips rocking unconsciously against his thigh. Better, a treacherous part of her mind sang, so much better than Naruto-kun.
Just as the first tremors of an orgasm began to lick at her nerves, Luffy pulled his mouth away. A whimper of protest escaped her swollen lips. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with lust but holding a playful, mean glint.
"Remove my clothes," he commanded, his voice a husky rasp. "And suck me off."
The blunt, crude order should have shamed her, doused her fire. Instead, it fanned the flames higher. It was a confirmation of everything she'd secretly wanted, to be used, to be commanded by this force of nature. She was his to direct in this forbidden dance.
"O-okay…" Hinata breathed after swallowing, her voice thick with his taste. She didn't hesitate. Her fingers, trembling only slightly, went to the button of his shorts. She pushed them down his hips, and he stepped out of them. Then, her own yukata and nightgown pooled at her feet, leaving her completely bare before him in the dim light of her own genkan.
He stood before her now in only his black boxers. Her eyes were instantly drawn downward, locked onto the formidable tent straining against the cotton. The outline was obscene, a thick, heavy curve that promised both punishment and paradise.
'Oh... oh my gosh,' she thought, her mind reverting to a simpler awe. She sank to her knees on the polished wooden floor, positioning herself between his spread legs.
She didn't start by removing his last garment. Instead, drawn by a magnetism she couldn't resist, she leaned forward and pressed her face against the massive bulge. She nuzzled it, inhaling deeply. His scent here was overwhelming, musky, salty, uniquely male and underneath it all, the faint, tantalizing scent of sex from his earlier encounter with the shrine maiden. It should have repulsed her. It made her mouth water.
"Don't mind me..." she mumbled against the fabric, her voice muffled. She pressed her lips against the shaft outlined there and made a soft suction kiss.
A shiver wracked her body as the scent intensified. It was the smell of him, of his essence, of cum that had seeped into the fabric from his balls. It was a primal, animalistic perfume that went straight to her brain, short-circuiting higher thought, and dripped directly down to her already soaking pussy, making it clench around nothing.
Luffy looked down at her, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed seeing the proper Hokage's wife on her knees, face buried in his crotch, inhaling him like an addict. He made no move to stop her, letting her indulge her newfound obsession.
Hinata's fingers finally hooked into the waistband of his boxers. As she began to pull them down, the scent bloomed stronger, almost visible in the air. She couldn't wait any longer. With a sudden, desperate yank, she pulled the boxers down in one swift motion.
His cock sprang free, slapping against her cheek with a heavy, meaty sound that echoed in the quiet entryway.
Thwack.
Hearts seemed to literally bloom in Hinata's pale lavender eyes, her Byakugan activating for a split second in pure sensory overload before fading. Luffy's massive, adulterous cock now rested heavily against her face, the heat of it branding her skin. It was even more magnificent up close. Thick as her wrist and impossibly long, it curved upwards proudly, veins pulsing along its length. The bulbous, purplish head was already glistening with a bead of clear precum.
'It's so much bigger than Naruto-kun's,' the thought flashed, clinical and devastating in its honesty. She didn't just see it; she drank it in. She turned her face, rubbing her cheek against the velvety-soft skin of the shaft, inhaling the concentrated musk at its base. His balls, heavy and full, nestled beneath.
Her tongue darted out, almost shyly at first, then with growing hunger. She licked a long stripe from the base to the tip, collecting the salty precum on her tongue with a moan. She couldn't get enough. She swirled her tongue around the crown, lapped at the slit, then took as much of the head into her mouth as she could.
"Ohh, fuck," Luffy groaned above her, his hands settling on her head, not forcing, just holding.
Encouraged, Hinata tried to take more. She relaxed her jaw and pushed forward, wanting to deepthroat this magnificent monster. She managed about halfway down its formidable length before her gag reflex violently rebelled. She choked, coughing around him, tears springing to her eyes.
"Damn, that's hot!" Luffy moaned, his hips giving an involuntary jerk. The sight of her struggling, tears on her lashes, only seemed to excite him more.
Pulling off with a wet pop, gasping for air, Hinata didn't retreat. Her eyes fell to his heavy sac. She leaned in and, with a determination that surprised even her, took one of his large balls into her mouth. She couldn't fit both, but she lavished attention on one, then the other, her tongue swirling and pressing against the sensitive skin through the tight sack. Luffy's breath hitched, his fingers tightening slightly in her hair.
"Hinata," he said, his voice strained.
She released his balls and brought her mouth back to his weeping cockhead. He was leaking more precum now, a steady flow of it. She lapped it up eagerly; it tasted salty, slightly bitter, and utterly addictive. She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and submissive over the massive girth stretching her lips.
"Luffy-san.... you can be rough with me," she mumbled around him, the words vibrating against his flesh. "As much as you want..."
The permission, the invitation, was all he needed.
As soon as the words left her occupied mouth, Luffy's hands clamped on either side of her head. He didn't thrust slowly. With a powerful snap of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt down her throat.
Hinata's eyes flew wide, blossoming with hearts again as she was utterly impaled. Her nose pressed into the coarse hair at his base. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The stretch was unbearable, incredible. She looked up at him, tears streaming freely now, a portrait of overwhelmed bliss.
Luffy began to fuck her face in earnest. He set a brutal, relentless pace, pulling back until just the head remained in her lips before slamming back in, using her mouth as a living sheath. Gagging sounds, wet slurps, and Luffy's guttural groans filled the genkan. Hinata's hands fluttered at her sides before gripping his muscular thighs for stability. She surrendered completely, letting him use her, focusing only on relaxing her throat for him, on the incredible feeling of being so utterly claimed.
She felt him swell even further inside her mouth, the rhythm becoming more frantic. He was close.
"Gonna cum..." he grunted, a warning and a promise.
He gave three final, deep, grinding thrusts that made her vision sparkle, and then he erupted.
Hinata's Byakugan activated on pure instinct. Her world dissolved into the blue-hued network of chakra pathways, and she focused it inward, on her own throat and stomach. She saw it. Thick, ropes of blazing white, hot Conqueror's Haki-rich cum pumping from him directly down her esophagus, spurt after spurt. It was so voluminous, so powerful. It flooded her stomach, painting the inside of her in his essence. Her normally flat belly distended slightly, a soft, noticeable bulge appearing as if she'd just eaten a large meal.
He finally pulled out with a slick sound, his cock glistening with mixed spit and cum.
"Koff... Koff..." Hinata slumped forward, coughing, strings of saliva and semen connecting her lips to his shaft. She gathered herself, took a deep breath through her nose, and then opened her mouth to show him.
A pool of thick, white cum rested on her tongue. She held his gaze, then closed her mouth.
"Hmm!" She chewed loudly, deliberately, savoring the unique flavor, stronger now, more potent before swallowing with an audible gulp. She opened her mouth again, clean and pink, to show him she'd taken every last drop.
"Good girl," Luffy said, his voice warm with approval. He patted her head like she was a prized pet.
Hinata beamed under the praise, a surge of pure happiness cutting through the depravity. She dutifully leaned forward again, licking his cock clean of any remnants, her movements tender now where they had been desperate moments before.
Then, without warning, he bent down and scooped her up in one arm, his strength so absurd he lifted her as if she weighed nothing.
"Eep!" Hinata let out a startled squeal as he carried her from the genkan into the darkened living room. With a casual toss, he threw her onto the large, plush sofa that Naruto usually napped on.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs. Before she could sit up, she fumbled for the remote on the coffee table and hit the power button. The television flickered to life, some late-night infomercial about kitchen knives filling the room with low, enthusiastic chatter, a thin veil for the sin about to unfold.
Luffy stood before the sofa, his eyes roaming over her naked body splayed out on the fabric. He licked his lips slowly, his gaze hungry and appreciative, like she was the most magnificent feast he'd ever seen.
He didn't speak. He simply joined her on the sofa, his mouth descending on her neck before trailing down her body. He paid homage to her breasts first, sucking and nibbling at her nipples until they were aching peaks, his large hands kneading the soft flesh. Hinata arched into his mouth, mewling. One of his hands slid down between her legs, and his fingers found her dripping wetness. He circled her clit once, twice, with a teasing pressure that had her bucking against his hand.
"Please..." she begged.
He grinned against her breast before sliding down further. He pushed her legs apart and buried his face between her thighs without preamble.
Hinata cried out, her hands flying to his wild black hair. His tongue was as relentless as the rest of him. He licked broad stripes through her folds before zeroing in on her clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it with devastating speed and precision. It was so different from Naruto's tentative, loving touches. This was an assault designed for one purpose: to make her break.
She came within minutes, a sharp, screaming climax that tore through her as he lapped at her fervently, drinking every drop she gave him. Her body convulsed against his mouth.
Before the waves had fully subsided, he moved again. He pushed her legs up, folding her nearly in half until her knees were by her shoulders, exposing her completely. He settled his weight between her thighs, the head of his resurrected cock nudging against her slick entrance. He didn't use his hands to guide himself, he just shifted his hips slightly.
The TV's drone about 'unparalleled sharpness' was utterly useless against the sound that followed.
With one powerful thrust of his hips, he sheathed himself inside her to the root in a single, devastating stroke.
SMACK!
The sound of their bodies connecting was obscenely loud, a wet slap of flesh that echoed in the living room. Hinata's back arched off the sofa, a guttural scream ripped from her throat that drowned out the television completely. The stretch was beyond anything she'd ever experienced. A glorious, burning fullness that touched places inside her she didn't know existed. He was so deep she felt him kissing her cervix.
And then he began to move.
Slap-slap-slap!
There was no gentle acclimation, no slow build. It was a relentless, piston-like pounding. He fucked her with a single-minded intensity, each thrust driving the air from her lungs in a punched-out "oof!" Each withdrawal was a sweet agony of loss before the next brutal, perfect slam home. The sofa creaked in protest. The skin on skin clapping was a rapid-fire percussion section to their ragged breathing and Hinata's escalating moans.
Hinata's eyes rolled back in her head. He was grinding so deep, hitting a spot with every stroke that sent electric jolts straight to her core. Her womb felt like it was being molded around the shape of him. This was what she had been lusting for through the wall. This raw, unadulterated fucking by a cock that wasn't Naruto-kun's. The thought itself was a perverse thrill that tightened another coil in her belly.
He pulled out suddenly and flipped her over onto her hands and knees on the sofa cushions. Doggy style. He entered her again from behind in one smooth motion, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.
For a while, there were no more thoughts of husbands or childrens or consequences. There was only sensation. Hinata met his thrusts with desperate bucks of her own hips, pushing back against him to take him even deeper.
Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!
They found a savage rhythm, their bodies slamming together in perfect, sinful syncopation. He grunted with each drive forward; she sobbed with each delicious invasion. They were two animals lost in a mating dance, the outside world shrunk to the space of this sofa, the sound of their joining, and the glow of the TV.
"Mama? Luffy-nii?"
The small, sleepy voice cut through the haze of pleasure like a kunai through paper.
Slap-slap-sla-
Both bodies froze mid-thrust. Hinata's blood turned to ice in her veins. Slowly, horrifyingly slowly, she and Luffy turned their heads to look over the back of the sofa.
Himawari stood there in her bunny pajamas, rubbing one eye with a tiny fist. Her hair was adorably mussed from sleep.
"What are you guys doing?" she asked innocently, tilting her head. The flickering light from the television played over her curious face. Her gaze landed on Hinata's flushed, sweat-sheened face, contorted in a mix of ecstasy and panic. "Are you okay, Mama? You look like you're in pain..."
"I-I'm fine!!" Hinata squeaked, her voice unnaturally high. Her mind scrambled for an explanation, any explanation. "Luffy is just… giving me a massage! A very… deep tissue massage!"
"Hmm," Himawari said, not looking convinced. She took a small step closer.
At that moment, Hinata, overwhelmed by terror and shame and the sheer impossibility of the situation, clenched down around Luffy's still-buried cock involuntarily. The sudden, vice-like grip made him shudder.
"Ugh!" Luffy groaned aloud, a sound of pure pleasure that was utterly damning in the context.
And then, to Hinata's utter horror and pleasure, he started moving again.
He began to pound into her once more, right there in front of her ten year old daughter. The wet slaps resumed, even louder in the stunned silence. Hinata tried to stifle her moans, biting her lip until she tasted blood, but a high-pitched whine escaped with each deep drive.
"Ah! Ah! L-Luffy—the massage—is… very… ah!… intense!" she gasped out between thrusts, the lie pathetic and transparent.
Himawari just watched, her brow furrowed in confusion. She heard the sounds, saw her mother's trembling body being pushed forward with each impact.
Luffy's pace became frantic. He was close again. Hinata could feel him swelling inside her, the telltale throbbing. The danger, the voyeuristic audience of her own child, mixed with the relentless stimulation pushed her own climax to the brink as well.
"I'm... okay~" Hinata moaned weakly as Luffy buried himself to the hilt one final time and held there.
With a deep, guttural roar he muffled against Hinata's shoulder, he came. Hinata felt the hot flood erupt inside her, painting her married womb with another man's seed right in front of the proof of her marriage. The violation of it, the utter taboo, triggered her own orgasm. It crashed over her silently this time, a deep, internal quaking that made her vision go white as she milked his cock through his release.
For a moment, there was only heavy breathing and the cheerful jingle of the infomercial.
Himawari blinked. Her mother's face was flushed bright red, but she wasn't crying out in pain anymore. She seemed… spent. The little girl finally seemed to accept the flimsy explanation or decided not to question the strange behavior of adults.
"Why are you awake, dear?" Hinata asked cautiously, forcing sweetness into her voice even as she felt Luffy's cum beginning to leak out around where they were still joined.
"Oh! I need to pee," Himawari said, as if just remembering.
As Himawari turned to walk towards the hallway bathroom, she suddenly stopped. She reached a small hand out towards Hinata's face.
Terror seized Hinata again. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for… she didn't know what.
"What is this?" Himawari asked curiously.
Hinata felt a small finger swipe across the side of her nose. She opened her eyes.
Himawari was looking at her own fingertip, which was coated in a thick, gooey strand of white fluid.
'Luffy's cum.' Hinata's mind screamed. 'From when he skull-fucked me. I didn't notice it all.'
Before Hinata could react, to grab her hand, to explain it away as lotion or sweat, Himawari did something that would be seared into Hinata's memory forever. The little girl stretched her fingers apart, watching the viscous fluid form a string between them with childish fascination. Then, with a shrug of pure innocence, she popped the finger into her mouth.
She sucked it clean.
Her nose wrinkled instantly. "Ew! It's so salty!" she complained. But she didn't spit it out. She just swallowed it with a little gulp, made another face, and then continued padding towards the bathroom as if she'd just tasted a weird new vegetable.
The door to the bathroom closed softly.
Silence descended upon the living room, broken only by the TV host extolling the virtues of a vegetable dicer.
Hinata was paralyzed. Stunned. What had just happened? Her daughter had just... consumed Luffy's semen.
Behind her, still buried deep inside her warmth, Luffy moved. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her upright so her back was flush against his chest. He nuzzled into the crook of her neck.
"Your so mean..." Hinata whispered, pouting at him cutely and pinching his arms. "How could you cum inside me in front of my daughter like that?!"
She felt him chuckle behind her. "I got caught up," he murmured playfully into her skin.
"I'm truly sorry about that," Seeing she was still pouting, Luffy said softly, his voice holding genuine remorse for the first time that night. He turned her head gently to face him. His eyes were serious now, the playfulness gone. "As an apology..."
He kissed her.
It wasn't the hungry devouring from before. It was slow. Deep. Tender. A lover's kiss full of unspoken regret and a desperate attempt to soothe.
'What a lewd and gentle kiss...' Hinata thought as she melted against him, kissing him back.
'If I get kissed like lovers....' Their tongues intertwined softly now, a slow dance rather than a battle. 'It's gonna be impossible not to...'
'I'm sorry, Naruto-kun… I'm so sorry…' Hinata moaned the apology into Luffy's mouth as she felt him begin to move inside her again.
This time his thrusts were slower, deeper, more deliberate. An apology written in flesh. And as he made love to her on the sofa still damp with their sweat and sin, with their daughter just down the hall and her husband absent in his tower of duty, Hinata knew with absolute clarity that there was no going back. The door she had opened could never be closed again.
xxx
The following days were a blur of simmering tension and stolen glances. Hinata moved through her household duties like a ghost, her mind perpetually anchored to the living room sofa and the impossible, shameful events that had unfolded there.
The memory of Himawari's small finger, coated in Luffy's essence, popping into her mouth was a loop of horror and a strange, dark thrill she couldn't suppress. She found herself cleaning that spot on the sofa with an obsessive fervor, her cheeks burning.
Naruto had come home late that night, as usual, smelling of ink and exhaustion. He'd kissed her forehead, mumbled an apology, and fallen asleep almost instantly. Hinata had lain beside him, staring at the ceiling, feeling the phantom ache between her thighs and the subtle, lingering soreness in her jaw.
The guilt was a leaden weight in her chest, but it was smothered under a thicker, hotter blanket of remembered pleasure and desperate anticipation. She was a split person, the dutiful Hokage's wife by day and by night, a creature of wanton hunger, listening for sounds from next door, reliving the feel of being utterly possessed.
It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. Boruto was out on a D-rank mission with his team. Naruto was, of course, at the office.
Hinata and Himawari were curled up on the living room sofa, watching one of Himawari's favorite animated movies for what must have been the tenth time. Hinata was only half-paying attention, her body humming with a restless energy.
The front door, which was rarely locked during the day in their safe neighborhood, opened.
"Yo!"
Hinata's heart gave a violent lurch. She knew that voice.
"Luffy-nii!" Himawari scrambled to her feet, her face lighting up with pure joy. She gestured excitedly to the spot on the sofa between her and Hinata where she had just been sitting.
"Come sit! We're watching The Adventures of Gutsy Ninja!"
Luffy sauntered in, wearing simple shorts and a loose red vest he left unbuttoned. He grinned at Himawari, ruffling her hair as he dropped onto the sofa exactly where she'd indicated. Himawari immediately clambered into his lap, snuggling back against his chest with a contented sigh.
"You watching this movie again? You love it that much, huh?" Luffy asked, his voice fond.
"It's the best!" Himawari declared, her eyes glued back to the screen.
Hinata, her mouth suddenly dry, instinctively scooted closer on the sofa towards Luffy. The movement brought her thigh against his. She could feel the heat radiating from him. Her mind flashed to him pounding into her on this very piece of furniture, with Himawari just feet away. A shiver ran through her.
Luffy's attention was on the screen for a moment. "Hm? Why are the characters different? Will you tell me?" he said, leaning forward slightly as if to get a better look.
As he did, his left arm, which was resting on the back of the sofa behind shifted. His hand came down and settled on Hinata's far shoulder. It was a casual, friendly gesture. But then his fingers began to move. They traced the line of her collarbone through her soft cotton blouse before dipping lower, his large palm cupping the swell of her left breast.
Hinata gasped silently, her entire body tensing. He was groping her. Roughly. Squeezing and kneading her flesh with bold, possessive strokes. And Himawari was right there, sitting in his lap, completely unaware, her small back pressed against his chest.
Hinata turned her head slowly to look up at Luffy. He wasn't even looking at her; his eyes were still ostensibly on the television, a faint smile on his lips as Himawari began to explain.
"This is a spin-off series! See, that's Gutsy Ninja's grandson, and he has a robot dog friend! And in this episode, they have to find the lost treasure of the Sky Pirates!" Himawari chattered away.
But Luffy's hand never stopped. He pinched her nipple through the fabric, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger until it hardened into a painful, exquisite peak. Hinata's breath hitched.
She looked up at his profile. The strong jaw, the relaxed set of his mouth. He was completely different than Naruto-kun, she thought, a wave of dizzying heat washing over her. Naruto was gentle, sometimes awkward, always respectful of boundaries. Luffy was brazen. He took what he wanted, consequences be damned. And in the secret, corrupted core of her being, Hinata loved it. She craved this audacity.
While Himawari's innocent narration filled the room, Luffy finally turned his head. He nudged Hinata closer with the arm around her shoulder. Then, without a word, he leaned in and captured her lips in a searing, devouring kiss.
It was not a gentle peck. It was a claiming. His tongue pushed past her lips immediately, tangling with hers. The taste of him flooded her senses. At the same time, his hand on her breast grew more aggressive, pawing at her through the blouse with an intensity that bordered on roughness.
The dual assault, the invasion of his mouth and the rough fondling was overwhelming. Hinata felt a coil of pleasure tighten so swiftly in her belly she thought she might climax right then and there, fully clothed, with her daughter mere inches away.
She kissed him back with equal hunger. Her hands came up to clutch at his vest, fisting the material. She slurped at his tongue, moaning softly into his mouth, exchanging saliva with a shameless wetness that would have mortified her before.
Driven by a need for more direct contact, she fumbled with one hand under her own blouse, unhooking the clasp of her bra with practiced ease. She tugged the cup down and guided his questing hand underneath her clothes, onto her bare breast.
The moment his calloused palm met her naked flesh, a full-body shudder wracked her. He groaned into the kiss, his fingers closing around her softness, his thumb swiping over her pebbled nipple. The sensation was so raw, so electric, it drew another muffled moan from her throat.
"...and then the robot dog uses his rocket boosters! Cool, right, Luffy-nii?" Himawari asked, tilting her head back to look up at him.
Luffy broke the kiss with a soft, wet sound. He looked down at Himawari, his expression perfectly normal, only a slight flush on his cheeks betraying him.
"It is! Makes me wanna watch it too," he said, his voice only a little husky.
Hinata was left breathless, her lips swollen and glistening, her face a mask of flushed desperation. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, trying to calm her racing heart. As she did, she subtly spread her legs wider on the sofa.
Luffy's hand abandoned her aching breast. It trailed down her side, over her hip, and slipped between her thighs, over the fabric of her modest skirt. He found the damp heat at her core easily. With one finger, he pressed against her clothed slit, then began to rub in slow, deliberate circles.
Hinata jerked, a sharp gasp escaping her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound, her body trembling. The wet sound of his finger moving against the soaked fabric was faint but audible to her heightened senses, though thankfully drowned out by the movie's soundtrack of clashing swords and heroic music.
She was panting now, little puffs of hot air against his skin. Overwhelmed by need and a possessive urge of her own, she turned her head and pressed her lips to his neck. She sucked at the skin there, not gently, wanting to leave a mark, a brand. A dark, victorious part of her wanted every woman he fucked after this to see it and know he had been claimed, if only for an afternoon.
Luffy shuddered under her mouth. He leaned down again, finding her lips for another deep, consuming kiss. Hinata moaned openly into it this time, the vibrations traveling from her mouth to his as his finger continued its relentless, circling torture through the fabric. The pressure built swiftly, shockingly. The taboo of the situation, the rough treatment, the incredible fullness of his finger even through the barriers, it was too much.
With a choked cry swallowed by his mouth, Hinata climaxed. It was a sharp, intense peak that made her thighs clamp around his hand and her back arch off the sofa cushions. She trembled violently against him as the waves crashed through her.
Just as the last pulses faded, Himawari suddenly paused the movie with the remote.
"I need to pee!" she announced cheerfully. She squirmed out of Luffy's lap and hopped off the sofa.
Hinata froze, panic momentarily overriding post-orgasmic haze. She watched, wide-eyed, as Himawari skipped out of the living room and down the hallway towards the bathroom.
The moment the bathroom door clicked shut in the distance, Hinata moved.
She slid off the sofa onto her knees on the floor between Luffy's spread legs. Her fingers went to the drawstring of his shorts, tugging it loose with frantic urgency. She yanked them down just enough to free him.
His massive cock sprang forth, already fully erect and throbbing, a testament to their illicit play.
"Fuck," Luffy breathed, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes.
Hinata didn't hesitate. She didn't worship it slowly this time. She was a woman possessed. She leaned forward and took as much of the bulbous head into her mouth as she could, sucking hard.
"Oh, you hungry slut," Luffy grunted, his hands going to her hair. "That's it. Take it. You love this dick, don't you? More than your husband's boring cock."
The dirty talk, so crude and demeaning, sent another jolt of pure lightning to her core. She pulled off with a pop, panting.
"Yes," she hissed, looking up at him, her eyes glazed. "It's so much better. It's all I think about."
She leaned in again, licking up the thick vein on the underside. "I dream about it fucking me. I get wet listening to it fuck other women because I pretend it's me."
"Damn," Luffy moaned, his hips bucking slightly.
Hinata took him deep again, using her hand to stroke what she couldn't fit into her mouth. She bobbed her head frantically, slurping and gagging, tears of effort welling in her eyes. She was messy, desperate, utterly wanton.
"I'm your cock sleeve," she mumbled around him, the words vibrating against his flesh. "Just a hole for you to use. Breed me with it. Fill me up like you did the other night."
She was lost in a haze of depravity, worshipping his length with her mouth and words, when the sound of the bathroom door opening echoed down the hall.
Hinata's eyes flew open in panic. With a wet, obscene sound, she pulled off and hastily shoved his still-throbbing erection back into his shorts, yanking them up just as Himawari rounded the corner back into the living room.
"All done!" Himawari chirped, completely oblivious. She climbed right back into Luffy's lap, resuming her position as if nothing had happened.
Hinata stayed kneeling on the floor for a second longer, catching her breath, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before shakily getting back onto the sofa beside Luffy. Her heart was hammering against her ribs.
Hours passed in a torturous, pleasurable haze. The movie finally reached its climactic battle and then its cheerful ending. The credits began to roll.
Himawari turned in Luffy's lap, looking first at him, then at Hinata, who was pressed close against his side, sweaty and visibly flushed.
"Luffy-nii?" Himawari asked. "Do you want pancakes? Mama taught me how to cook them, and it was super easy!"
Luffy's face lit up with genuine delight, all traces of carnal hunger replaced by simple, boyish excitement for food. "Yes! Yes! I look forward to it!"
Himawari beamed, gave him a quick hug, and scrambled off towards the kitchen.
The moment the sound of cabinets opening and bowls clattering reached them, Hinata stood up.
Her movements were abrupt, decisive. Without a word, she began to remove her clothes. The blouse was unbuttoned and tossed aside. The skirt pooled at her feet. The half-off bra followed. She stood naked before him in the afternoon light filtering through the curtains, her body still glistening with a fine sheen of sweat from before.
"Look at you…" Luffy said, his smirk returning as he leaned back on the sofa, appreciating the view.
Hinata blushed deeply but held his gaze.
"You… you did not finish yet," she said shyly, though her eyes burned with need. "I'm just… helping you."
She stepped forward and helped him remove his vest and shorts again. When his magnificent cock sprang free once more, her eyes actually watered with sheer craving. This was what she needed. What she belonged to.
She didn't wait for him to guide her. She climbed onto the sofa, straddling his lap. Holding his gaze, she reached between them, guided him to her dripping entrance, and slowly sank down.
The stretch was still incredible, still stole her breath every time. She took him inch by glorious inch until she was fully impaled, his hips pressing against her rear.
But Luffy had other plans. Before she could set a rhythm, his hands shot out. He hooked his arms under her knees, lifting her legs up and spreading them wide. Then, with impossible strength, he leaned forward, rolling them both until he was on top, but in a way that kept her legs pinned high and wide beside her head. Her back was pressed into the sofa cushions, her pelvis tilted up at a brutal angle, utterly exposed and vulnerable.
"Wha—?!" Hinata gasped, disoriented.
Luffy grunted, his arms hooked securely under her knees, his hands gripping his own forearms for leverage above her shoulders. It was a position of total control.
And then he began to fuck her.
There was no slow build-up. It was a relentless, piston-like pounding from the very first thrust. With her legs pinned back like this, he could sink deeper than ever before. Each slam of his hips drove the air from her lungs in a punched-out "Oof!" His balls swung freely, smacking against her ass with every withdrawal and penetration, creating a secondary rhythm of impact that sent shockwaves through her already-overstimulated body.
Hinata had never experienced anything like it. The depth was obscene. The angle was perfect. The complete helplessness, the feeling of being utterly folded and used… she loved it immediately.
"Ah! Ah! LUFFY! Yes! Right there! Oh god!" she screamed, abandoning all pretense of quiet. Her moans echoed through the house, mixing with the wet slap of skin on skin and the creaking protest of the sofa.
He set a brutal pace, holding her in that vulnerable position as he hammered into her. Hinata came quickly, a sharp, screaming climax that made her vision whiten. But he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. The relentless stimulation, the constant slap of his balls against her sensitive skin, brought her to another peak just minutes later. This one was longer, a rolling wave of pleasure that had her sobbing his name.
She was a wanton mess beneath him, drool trailing from the corner of her mouth, tears streaming from her eyes from the intensity.
In the middle of this animalistic fucking, a small voice called from the kitchen over the sizzle of pancake batter.
"Mama? Is Luffy-nii massaging you again? It sounds loud!"
Hinata's heart stopped. Her pussy clenched around Luffy's invading length like a vice in her panic, making him groan with pleasure.
"Y-yes! Honey!" Hinata managed to call out between guttural moans as Luffy continued to piston into her without mercy. "A… a very… ah!… deep tissue… oh!… massage! Don't… nngh!… come in here!"
"Okay!" Himawari called back cheerfully, apparently satisfied.
The near-discovery only seemed to excite Luffy further. His thrusts became even more powerful, more punishing. Hinata lost count of how many times she came. Her world narrowed to the feeling of being split open on his cock, the smell of sex and sweat, the sound of their bodies colliding.
Finally, with a roar he muffled against her neck, Luffy buried himself to the hilt and held there. Hinata felt him swell and then erupt inside her for the first time that day. The hot, potent flood triggered one last, shuddering climax from her, so intense her cries died in her throat into silent screams. Her body went limp as the pleasure short-circuited her senses, and darkness claimed her.
She passed out.
Luffy slowly pulled out of her with a wet, sucking pop. He looked down at her unconscious form, flushed and beautiful, sprawled obscenely on the sofa with his semen already beginning to leak from her well-used pussy. A look of deep satisfaction crossed his face.
Moving with quiet efficiency, he found her discarded clothes and gently dressed her limp body, arranging her on the sofa to look like she'd simply fallen asleep watching TV. He pulled on his own shorts and vest just as the smell of cooked pancakes grew stronger.
Himawari emerged from the kitchen proudly carrying a plate stacked high with slightly lopsided but golden-brown pancakes.
"Luffy-nii! They're ready! Oh… Mama fell asleep?" she whispered.
"Guess the massage was really tiring," Luffy said with a perfectly straight face. He helped Himawari set the plate on the coffee table.
He sat down and dug in with gusto. They were a little burnt on one side and slightly undercooked in the middle, but he ate them with immense enthusiasm, complimenting Himawari on every bite. "These are amazing! You're a great cook!"
Himawari glowed under his praise, munching on her own creation happily beside her sleeping mother, completely unaware that the man happily eating her pancakes had just fucked said mother into unconsciousness minutes before.
xxx
Meanwhile, in the Hokage's Office...
The Hokage's office was quiet for once. The last scroll had been stamped, the last urgent memo read. Naruto Uzumaki leaned back in his large chair, the weight of the village literally and figuratively on his shoulders. A familiar pang of guilt twisted in his gut—guilt aimed at a specific person in a specific house not too far from this tower.
Hinata.
He knew he'd been neglecting her. The endless meetings, the crises, the paperwork that bred like rabbits… being Hokage was harder than he'd ever dreamed. But he'd always hoped, believed, that Hinata would understand. She was strong, patient, kind. She knew his dream and had supported him unconditionally. Wasn't that enough?
A restless energy filled him. He wanted to see her. Not just later tonight when he'd be half-dead with fatigue, but now. To see what she was doing in the middle of a normal afternoon without him.
On impulse, he waved a hand towards the shadows. "Dismissed," he said quietly. He felt more than saw the slight shifts in chakra as his Anbu guards retreated to a more respectful distance, giving him privacy.
Alone in the office, Naruto walked over to a locked cabinet behind his desk. From it, he withdrew an object shrouded in cloth, a relic from a previous era. He unwrapped it to reveal a large crystal ball.
He'd found it years ago, knew its history and its seedy purpose. The Third had used it to peek on women bathing. Naruto had always thought it was a creepy, dishonorable tool. But tonight, a weak, lonely part of him wanted to see her. Just to see Hinata's face, to remind himself what he was working so hard to protect.
He placed his hands on the cool crystal and channeled a steady stream of his immense chakra into it. The cloudy interior swirled, then cleared.
He focused his intent, his desire: Hinata. Home.
The image that formed would be seared into Naruto's mind forever.
It was their bedroom. Hinata was there, wearing a thin, silky robe he didn't recognize. She was smiling, a bright, playful smile he hadn't seen in months. And she was not alone.
Standing behind her, his chest pressed to her back, was their neighbor, Monkey D. Luffy. The strange, powerful man who had appeared in the village years ago, built a small house nearby, and captivated Himawari with his wild stories. Luffy's hands were on Hinata's breasts, cupping them through the silk, his thumbs circling her nipples with clear intent.
Luffy's arms were wrapped around Hinata from behind, his large hands blatantly cupping her breasts over her dress, squeezing and fondling them through the fabric.
Naruto's blood turned to sludge in his veins.
He saw Hinata's face in profile. She was smiling. A soft, giggling smile, a sound so light and happy it stabbed Naruto through the heart.
She leaned her head back against Luffy's shoulder.
"Stop it already, Luffy~" she said playfully, wriggling slightly in his grasp but making no real effort to escape. "You pervert!"
The tone was light, flirtatious. Intimate. It spoke of a familiarity that took time to build.
"Why... Why is Hinata-chan letting someone touch her chest...?" The thought was a silent scream in Naruto's mind. A pain so acute lanced through his chest he physically staggered back from the crystal ball, gripping the edge of his desk. It felt like a Rasengan to the heart.
He forced himself to look again.
"I should have known," he whispered hoarsely to the empty office, his vision blurring with unshed tears of rage and betrayal. "People would be after a woman as sexy as her..."
The words tasted like ash. If he had known it would end up like this... if he had known his absence would create a void filled by this... he wouldn't have ignored his wife over and over again. He'd chosen the village, and in doing so, he'd left the door to his home wide open. The regret was a poison.
He was lost in a vortex of pain and regret for what felt like an eternity, staring at the image of his wife in another man's arms. When he finally blinked back to awareness, the scene had shifted.
Luffy was now sitting on the edge of their marital bed, completely nude. And Hinata… Hinata was on her knees on the floor between his spread legs.
Naruto's mouth fell open. A soundless gasp tore from his throat.
His wife's beautiful, gentle face was tilted up, looking at Luffy with an expression of awe and devotion. And draped heavily across her cheek, its tip brushing her lips, was a cock of such monstrous proportions it seemed unreal. It was thick as Hinata's wrist, long and ruddy, veins standing in stark relief, the head a broad, purple helmet that glistened even in the crystal's view. The sheer girth made Naruto's own more than adequate look like a child's in comparison.
A cold numbness spread through Naruto even as a traitorous heat pooled in his own groin. Involuntarily, as if to sear the humiliation into his soul, Naruto's chakra pulsed, zooming the crystal's focus in
He saw every detail. The thick, prominent veins throbbing along the impressive length. The sheer girth that made his own seem... inadequate in comparison. The bulbous, purplish head glistening with moisture just inches from his wife's nose. It was a weapon of carnal dominance.
His eyes flicked down to his own lap. Despite the soul-crushing betrayal, despite the fury… he was hard. His dick strained against the fabric of his Hokage trousers, tenting them obscenely.
"Damn it!" he snarled, slamming a fist on the desk. "Why's that guy's dick..." He couldn't finish the thought.
With trembling hands fueled by a mix of self-loathing and morbid fascination, Naruto unzipped his pants. He took out his own erection—a perfectly respectable size he'd always been confident about, something Hinata had lovingly called "more than enough" in their intimate moments.
Now it looked pathetic in his own hand as he watched another man's far superior member being worshipped by his wife.
In the crystal, Hinata moved. She didn't take it in her mouth immediately. Instead, she nuzzled it, her face a mask of reverence. Then, she leaned forward and placed a tender, lingering kiss on the side of the shaft. It was a kiss of deep affection, of worship. Naruto's heart shattered. He knew, with a certainty that was utterly devastating, that kiss surpassed any she had ever given him, even at their wedding.
"It's so big..." Hinata murmured, her voice barely a whisper through the crystal ball but clear to Naruto's enhanced senses. She looked up at Luffy with eyes full of stars, a look that used to be reserved for him.
She began to pepper kisses along its length, each one soft and deliberate, worshipping it with a care that broke Naruto's heart anew.
"Dammit!" Naruto hissed again, his fist tightening around his own hard length. He began to stroke himself slowly, unable to look away from the train wreck unfolding before him. He remembered Hinata's soft lips kissing him every morning, every night. Those same lips were now devoted to another man's flesh.
He watched, hypnotized and horrified, as Luffy reached down and cupped one of Hinata's breasts through her dress again, giving it an appreciative squeeze.
"You have such nice big breasts too," Luffy said casually.
Hinata's face lit up with a spellbound expression at the praise, a simple compliment about her body that Naruto had forgotten to give in... how long? She nuzzled against the massive dick on her face as if it were a beloved pet.
Naruto Uzumaki, the Seventh Hokage, the hero who had saved the world multiple times, sat alone in his office, stroking his own cock to the sight of his wife's infidelity, feeling his world crumble into dust around him. The crystal ball showed no mercy, continuing to display the intimate betrayal in perfect, heartbreaking clarity.