Kyle Mayers - Naruto World, Naruto's MILFs

The knock came around the time Kyle was usually loading ten tabs of porn and grabbing the napkins. Instead, he went to the door.

He opened it in a wrinkled T-shirt and sweatpants, hair a disaster, mouth halfway through forming some sarcastic greeting—and then his brain short-circuited.

Sakura Haruno stood in the hallway, hands on her hips, wearing a fitted red qipao-style dress that hugged every curve. Kyle knew she was somewhere in her thirties, but her body never let him call her a day above twenty-five. The dress clung to a waist still trim and athletic, the kind of build that came from decades of chakra-enhanced combat and healing work. But the real distraction was above and below. Her bust had filled out since her genin days—full, high, straining the fabric just enough that the mandarin collar looked like it was fighting a losing battle. The dress was slit high on one thigh, showing off legs that were long, toned, and still carried the faint white scar tissue of a dozen forgotten battles.

Beside her, Hinata Uzumaki stood with her hands clasped in front of her, looking like she wanted to disappear into the wallpaper.

The Hokage's wife was five-ten and built on a different scale entirely. Where Sakura was compact and sharp, Hinata was soft and voluptuous. The lavender jacket she wore was zipped to the collar, but it, as always, did nothing to hide two giant distractions that were prime jerking material for every man in the village. And those wide hips. Thick, powerful thighs that tapered into slender ankles. Altogether she was the ultimate MILF, so Kyle was understandably stunned.

"Happy birthday, Kyle," Sakura said, pushing past him into the apartment without waiting for an invitation.

"Uh," Kyle said.

Hinata followed more hesitantly, pausing in the doorway to bow slightly. "H-hello, Kyle-kun."

"Mrs. Uzumaki," Kyle managed. "Mrs. Uchiha. What—"

"Sit down," Sakura said, already surveying his cramped living room with the clinical eye of someone who had performed triage in worse conditions. "We need to talk."

Kyle sat.

Sakura took the chair opposite him, crossing her legs in a way that made the slit in her dress gape open to mid-thigh. Hinata perched on the edge of the couch, back straight, hands still clasped, looking everywhere except at him.

"So," Sakura said. "Eighteen today."

"Yeah."

She smiled, and it was not a gentle smile. "How does it feel?"

"Same as seventeen, honestly."

"Mm." Sakura leaned back. "Hinata. Why don't you tell Kyle why we're here?"

Hinata's cheeks went pink. "Sakura, I—"

"Go on."

Hinata took a breath. "Kyle-kun. Sakura has... proposed... a birthday arrangement. Something she believes you would enjoy. And she has asked me to... participate."

Kyle looked between them. Sakura was watching him with the patient, knowing expression of a woman who had already decided how the evening would end. Hinata was staring at her own hands, the tips of her ears bright red.

"I'm not following," Kyle said.

Sakura sighed. "Well, Kyle, seeing as you're the main character of this story, I'm going to give you my anal virginity tonight. Sasuke never took it, you know."

Kyle's brain, which had been idling, stalled completely.

"And before that," Sakura continued, "Hinata is going to give you a birthday blowjob. On her knees. Tits out. That shy little mouth of hers doing what it does best."

"Sakura!" Hinata hissed.

"What? I bet he's sick to hear the words." Sakura turned back to Kyle. "So. What do you say?"

Kyle looked at Hinata. The Hokage's wife. The woman who had probably never said a dirty word in her life. Who blushed when someone complimented her cooking. Who was currently sitting on his couch with her hands in her lap and her cheeks the color of a sunset, and she was not saying no.

"I-I..." Kyle could not form a word. "YES!!!" he finally cried out, jumping from his seat.

Sakura clapped her hands together, delighted. Hinata got even redder—but she smiled too, a small, shy, hungry thing she couldn't quite hide. Sakura leaned toward her, elbow on the armrest, chin in her palm.

"You're curious," Sakura teased. "Admit it. You want to see what that teen dick looks like out of the pants."

"S-Sakura, please—"

"Did you use your Byakugan?" Sakura's grin sharpened. "Come on. You can see through walls. Did you peek at what Kyle was packing before we walked up here?"

Hinata's blush went from sunset to full-on furnace. She looked down. She did not deny it.

"Hinata." Sakura laughed, delighted. "You dirty girl."

"I only—I wanted to know what to expect," Hinata mumbled, barely audible.

"And? Was it everything you expected?"

Hinata's eyes flicked up to Kyle's, then away. Her voice was very small. "...More."

Kyle made a sound that was not quite a word.

"Alright, birthday boy," Sakura said, gesturing at the chair. "Sit. Comfortable. Legs apart. Let her work."

Kyle enthusiastically consented and dropped back into the chair, spreading his legs wide. His sweatpants were already doing a poor job of hiding the situation.

Hinata rose and stepped in front of him. Up close, she was even more impressive—the generous curve of her hips, the way her jacket pulled tight across her chest, the small strip of bare skin visible at her collarbone where the zipper ended.

She knelt.

The zipper of her hoody couldn't hold the pressure—it had been straining since she walked in—and finally gave, the sides peeling apart. Kyle experienced a prime top-down view of her giant milkers, spilling out of the black mesh underneath, heavy and pale and perfect.

Kyle's throat went dry.

Hinata's hands came up, hesitant, and rested on his knees. Then she reached for the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down.

"Don't look so shocked," Sakura said from behind her. "She's a married woman. She's seen one before."

"Sakura," Hinata said again, but her voice was shaking, and not from anger.

She wrapped her hand around his cock and gently pumped it. Her eyes went wide, then half-lidded. "I haven't seen one like this before..."

Her fingers were soft, but her words were the bigger turn-on. Kyle felt his cock get harder than it had ever been in his life. He looked at the main character of his wet dreams, and in her pale eyes something hungry had woken up.

She leaned forward and took him into her mouth.

Kyle's hips jerked. Hinata made a small sound—not a protest, something muffled and pleased—and her hand tightened around the base of his cock. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she was not shy about it. She worked him slowly at first, her tongue flat against the underside, her cheeks hollowing as she pulled back, then took him deeper.

Her jacket was still hanging open.

"Unzip it," Sakura said.

Hinata pulled off him with a wet pop, looked up at Sakura with those pale eyes, and then reached for her own zipper. She didn't need to—it had already given up the ghost—but she shrugged the jacket off her shoulders anyway, letting it fall to the floor.

She was still wearing the mesh top underneath—black, tight enough to show the shape of her breasts pressing against the fabric, the outline of her nipples already hard. The mesh was sheer, and through it Kyle could see the pale skin of her chest. Two enormous, gravity-defying milk jugs hung heavy and full, each one large enough that his hands would have to work to cover them, the kind of tits that only a mother of two could carry with that much weight and still keep that perfect round shape.

"You like them," Sakura said. It wasn't a question.

"Ah—a." Kyle couldn't really form words, his mind short-circuiting trying to make a mental photograph.

"Touch them. She won't mind." Sakura's voice was still light, but now with a slight hint of annoyance. Her own hand reached the underside of her boob as she jealously looked at Hinata's prime weaponry.

Hinata nodded at Kyle's stunned expression. "I really don't. Touch them!"

When he still didn't respond, she took his limp hand and guided it to her breast and pressed it there, and Kyle felt the weight of it, the softness, the way his fingers sank into the flesh. For a moment, he thought he had touched Heaven.

"They're sensitive," she murmured. "Please be—"

He squeezed.

Her breath caught. Her hips shifted. And then she was back on his cock, taking him deep, her mouth working him with more urgency now, her hand still guiding his fingers across her chest.

"Good girl," Sakura said.

Hinata moaned around him. She was working on getting more and more of his cock in her mouth, and she was already three-quarters of the way there. Kyle's other hand joined the first on her tits, making her moan and work even more passionately.

"Now," Sakura didn't let the hotness of the scene distract her, "let's talk about the main event. Kyle. When you're done with her mouth, you're going to bend me over that couch and take my ass. But first—"

She leaned down, her lips brushing Kyle's ear, her hand pressed into the fellow MILF-kunoichi's head and pushed hard, making her gag and finally swallow the last inch of Kyle's cock. Hinata's lips now touched pubic hair while her tongue eagerly lapped at his balls.

Kyle was not sure what the pink-haired MILF was telling him. He was just going with it.

"—you're going to make her say it. The things she won't say out loud. Make her tell you what a good little cocksucker she is. Make her tell you how much wishes her Hokage husband could do what do to her mouth right now."

Hinata's rhythm faltered.

"Don't stop," Sakura said, gripping Hinata's hair a bit. That caused the dark-haired MILF to redouble her efforts to make Kyle fill her mouth with cum.

Kyle was gone. His hips bucked up, his hand fisted in Hinata's dark hair, and he was so close—

Sakura grabbed his chin, turned his face to hers, and kissed him. Hard. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting of mint and something sharper, and the shock of it yanked him back from the edge just enough.

"Not yet," she murmured against his lips. "You don't get to come until she's said it. Fuck her throat. Make her work for it."

Kyle's hands moved from Hinata's boobs, to the top of her head. He thrust up, and Hinata took it—all of it—her throat working around him, her eyes watering, her hands braced on his thighs. He fucked her mouth with the desperate, graceless rhythm of a man who had waited his whole life for this, and Hinata let him, her moans vibrating around his cock.

"Say it," Kyle gasped. "Tell me what a good little cocksucker you are."

Hinata pulled off just long enough to gasp, "I'm a good little cocksucker—" before he pushed back in.

"Tell me you wish Naruto could do this to you."

Her eyes, wet and wild, found his. "I want—" She swallowed around him. "— I wish Naruto was large enough to do what you are doing right now."

"Tell me what a slut you are for my cock."

She pulled off again, her hand working him fast and hard, her lips swollen and wet, her giant tits swaying with every stroke. "I'm a slut for your cock, Kyle-kun. I'm a—I'm a dirty little slut for your birthday cock—"

Kyle came.

It hit him like a chakra punch to the spine, his whole body locking up, his hand crushing Hinata's hair, and he spilled into her mouth with a groan that came from somewhere deeper than his lungs. Hinata took it—all of it—swallowing with a little gasp and a moan, her hand still milking him through the last shuddering pulses.

When he finally let go of her hair, she sat back on her heels, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and looked up at him with those pale eyes. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were red. Her tits were still hanging out of the mesh top, and she was smiling—a small, shy, thoroughly wrecked smile.

"Happy birthday, Kyle-kun," she said softly.

Sakura laughed, low and warm. "Good girl. Now—" She stood, stepped around Hinata, and hooked a finger in the collar of Kyle's T-shirt. "—my turn."