Vizem
patreon
Chapter 78 - Tsunami IV
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 10:48:02 +0000 UTCI rolled away from her, my softening cock sliding out of her overstretched, overfilled pussy with a wet, obscene sound.
Even before I'd fully withdrawn, I could see the evidence of our coupling—thick streams of my cum already leaking from her entrance. More pouring out once I was completely free. Her cunt looked thoroughly used, swollen and red, still occasionally twitching as if searching for what it had lost.
Collapsing onto my back beside her, I stared up at the low wooden ceiling.
Rough planks that spoke of a fisherman's modest income, gaps where the ocean wind would whistle through on stormy nights. My mind was completely blank, thoughts scattered like leaves after a hurricane. Just the steady rhythm of my gradually slowing heartbeat and the distant sound of waves against the harbor.
Nothing else existed in this moment. No mission, no responsibilities, no complications.
Just a bone-deep satisfaction.
After what felt like hours, I let out a long, shaky sigh.
That had to be one of the best orgasms of my entire life. Like that first gulp of water after crawling through a desert—the kind that literally keeps you alive. Weeks of built-up frustration finally released in one crazy, explosive moment that left me feeling like a new man.
I turned my head to look at the wreckage beside me.
Tsunami was completely unconscious, but her body told the story of what I'd done to her. Her dark hair was plastered to her face and neck with sweat, strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. Drool had leaked from her slack mouth, creating a small wet spot on the futon beneath her. Her eyes were half-open but seeing nothing, pupils blown wide and unfocused.
Her pale body was marked everywhere—red handprints on her ass, finger-shaped bruises already forming on her narrow hips where I'd gripped her too hard in those final moments. She twitched occasionally, little aftershocks still rippling through her nervous system.
She looked nothing like the composed, dignified mother who'd served me tea hours ago. This was a woman thoroughly debauched, every trace of propriety fucked right out of her.
And somehow, seeing her like this—broken, used, completely undone—made my cock start to stir again.
Ah, what I’d give for a camera right now. Just to freeze this exact moment. Next time she’s folding laundry with that serene motherly face, I could remind her what that modest little act is hiding. Hell, imagine what her son would think if he saw his sainted mother like….. this.
My shaft steered up in full length.
There really was something wrong with me. I'd just emptied myself inside her with an intensity that had left me seeing stars, and already my body was responding to the sight of her ruined state.
Moving slowly, I let my hand drift across her cooling skin. She shivered at my touch despite being unconscious, her body still hypersensitive.
My fingers traced the dip of her spine, the faint bumps of her ribs beneath tired muscle, down to her waist, over the small of her back, before the curve of her ass where the bloom of bruises was already darkening across her hip.
The sight of those marks sparked something that might have been guilt if I were a better man. It only made me want to do it again. Marking her, not hurting her.
I called on my sluggish chakra, my mind still too scattered to focus properly, but managed to gather enough medical ninjutsu to begin healing her.
The green glow of healing chakra played across her pale skin as I worked to undo the damage I'd caused.
Hum?
She started steering awake.
Either I'd underestimated my healing abilities, or I'd seriously underestimated the resilience of a woman who'd been managing a household and raising a child entirely on her own for years.
Turns out, surviving as a single mother had built more steel into her spine. Go figure.
The widow's eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as she fought through the dizziness and the tears. Her mouth closed with visible effort, though she was still too wrung out to wipe away the saliva on her chin. She looked like she'd been hit by a tidal wave—which, in a way, she had.
“Welcome back.“ I let my hand settle possessively on the curve of her ass, giving the pale flesh a deliberate squeeze as I spoke. "Well, that was quite the performance. I didn't know proper widows could scream like that." I couldn’t hide the pride in there.
She didn't even flinch at my touch. Either too exhausted to react, or she didn’t bother to care.
For a long moment, she just stared at me with those dark, unfocused eyes, and I was starting to wonder if she'd completely checked out mentally. Then she spoke, her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"You're an awful man," she said, but there was no real heat in it—more like a statement of fact delivered through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss. "The things you said, the things you did, the things you…. made me do...” she sighed with closed eyes. “You're an awful, awful man."
"Funny, I could have sworn you called me kind earlier.” I smiled and gave her ass another squeeze, my thumb tracing lazy circles on her skin. “Already changed your mind?"
“That was before you... “ she trailed off, looking away, a flush creeping up her neck. "Before I knew what kind of man you really were."
“Hum. I will take that as a compliment,“ I smiled, letting my hand drift lower to trace along the back of her thigh. Her skin was still overly sensitive—I could feel the way she shivered at my touch despite her exhaustion. "But just for reference, what kind of man am I?"
"The kind who takes advantage," she whispered, though her body wasn't pulling away from my wandering fingers. "Who says horrible things to make proper ladies lose themselves."
Touche. The irony that I was taking advantage of her exhaustion to fondle her was not lost on me.
I chuckled, won’t be stopping though, moving my hand back up to cup her ass more firmly. "And yet here you are, still letting me touch you. Still not asking me to leave."
Her breath hitched slightly, but whether from my words or the way I was kneading her flesh, I couldn't tell. "I'm too tired to fight anymore. And you are too stubborn to listen."
"Is that what this is? Fighting?" My fingers trailed along the crease where her ass met her thigh, enjoying how she couldn't quite suppress her body's response. "Because it felt more like you don’t hate it as much as you make it seem."
She was quiet for a long moment, her face pressed into the futon as I continued my slow exploration of her curves. When she finally spoke again, her voice was even softer than before.
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never... I would never normally..."
"Never what?" I prompted, my hand sliding around to trace along her hip bone. "Never let a stranger fuck you senseless? Never come so hard you forgot your own name?"
Crude words scraped against everything the mother was taught to value—modesty, decorum, decency. That’s why they worked on her. They made her flinch, but did wonders. Every filthy syllable loosened something inside her she didn’t know how to protect.
"Please, stop saying such vulgar things," she murmured, but there was no conviction in her protest. She was too drained to put up her usual proper front.
A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the distant sound of waves and our gradually steadying breathing.
I shifted beside her, rolling onto my stomach to match her position, my left hand replacing my right on the soft curve of her ass.
"Are you done yet?" she asked, that particular tone mothers used when they were mildly exasperated but too tired for real annoyance. Like she was scolding Inari for tracking mud through the house.
It was hot in a way.
I just smiled, letting my hand begin a slow journey upward. My palm traced the gentle swell of her ass, fingers following the subtle dip of her lower back where years of hard work had carved lean muscle beneath soft skin. Her spine was a delicate ridge under my touch, each vertebra distinct as I mapped my way higher.
"I'm not exactly... what I used to be," she murmured into the futon, voice muffled but carrying the weight of a woman who'd given up. "Time and worry, they... they change things."
My hand reached her shoulder, fingers gently gathering the dark, slicked strands of hair that had fallen across her neck and face. I brushed it aside, revealing the graceful curve of her nape.
My touch turned tender as I traced along her jawline, different from how I'd gripped her face earlier, different from how I'd squeezed her other cheeks.
With the back of my hand, I carefully wiped away the saliva from her chin and the corner of her mouth, then let my knuckles brush against her cheek in a gentle caress.
She was surprised at first, but then sighed at the touch, eyes slowly drifting closed as she leaned almost imperceptibly into my palm.
Something warm and unexpected bloomed in my chest watching her accept this gentleness from me, seeing this reserved and stressed-out mother allow herself this small moment of vulnerability after all she went through.
Looking at her like this—exhausted, vulnerable, marked by the weight of years spent struggling alone—I couldn’t help the protective feeling stirring in my chest.
I could see it all written in the subtle lines around her eyes, the calluses on her hands, the way she carried herself even now. A woman who'd buried two husbands, too young and spent every day since fighting to keep her family afloat in a world that didn't give a damn about widows or their children.
The thought of leaving her here, going back to my missions while she returned to that endless cycle of barely scraping by, suddenly felt wrong in a way I couldn't ignore.
"I've decided," I said suddenly.
Her eyes opened, dark and questioning as she looked up at me.
"I'm taking you with me. Both of you—you and Inari." The words came out with a finality that surprised even me. "His mother is mine now, which makes him my responsibility too."
She stared for a long moment, as if I'd started speaking a foreign language. "What are you talking about?"
"Konoha. You'll come back with me. I'll take care of you both."
"That's..." She blinked, some of her earlier fog starting to clear. "That's completely…. you’re being absurd"
"I'm being kind.” I raised an eyebrow. “Isn't that what you wanted me to be?"
That seemed to snap something back into focus for her when she realized I wasn’t joking. She pushed herself up slightly on her elbows, wincing at the movement but suddenly more alert than she'd been since waking up.
"Kind? You think uprooting our entire lives is kind?" Her voice was getting stronger, that maternal practicality reasserting itself. "You're barely older than my son would be if he were grown. You don't understand what it means to take care of a family—the responsibility, the sacrifice. We're not your burden to bear. You have your own life, your own duties. Why would you saddle yourself with a cursed widow and her son who have nothing to offer you?"
I just shrugged. "Don't worry about it."
The casual dismissal hit her like a slap. Her eyes flared—sharp and sudden—like a pot lid rattling just before it boils over. For a moment, I genuinely wondered if she might swing at me with a rice paddle.
"Don't worry about it?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You can't just... dismiss legitimate concerns like that. I won't let you ruin your future for some misguided sense of obligation. What happens when you realize what a mistake this is? When you get tired of supporting dead weight?"
She took a deep breath. "You don't owe us anything just because of... this." She gestured vaguely between us, color flooding her cheeks. "What happened here was just... it was unexpected, but it doesn't make you responsible for us. You'll go back to your village and your life, and we'll never see each other again. That's how these things work."
Yeah…. I’m definitely taking her with me.
Comments
Vince
Yeah, life is unfairly harsh
Kejmur
Her current situation is unsustainable in the long term. One day, a bandit won't stop, and won't accept 'no' once he invades the house. Or one of the bosses of Inari decides that the kid needs to learn the 'lesson'. Is this harsh? Yes. However, they essentially live in a feudal-like society. Him giving this offer, while he could say it more politely, to a woman in her position is a sign of mercy. As disturbing as it may be from the modern point of view. Additionally, if she becomes really unhappy, he may simply start acting more kindly, if necessary. Heck, he may even apologize for 'getting into it too much', and give her some proper aftercare/cuddles.
Aeden Emrys
Good decision! Thanks for the chapter! I'm looking forward to reading much more!
Boobby hill
Oh anko gonna eat her up Thanks for the chapter
