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Chapter 07 - Anko Mitarashi II
🕑 Added 2025-03-26 11:29:55 +0000 UTCAnko’s smirk twisted into something feral. Her tongue flicked out again — longer, wetter—before she leaned in, her breath hot against my skin.
"Opportunity?" she purred, her voice a low, serpentine hiss. "Oh, I’m gonna do more than show it."
Her fingers traced the length of me, slow and deliberate, her nails scraping just enough to make my breath hitch. She watched my reaction like a snake tasting the air before striking. Then she leaned in.
The first kiss was almost chaste—just a brush of her lips against the tip, warm and lingering. Then another, softer, playful, before her tongue flicked out, a quick, testing taste. Her eyes flicked up, meeting mine, full of wicked amusement.
Then it tongue flicked out—longer than it should be, wetter than expected—coiling around me in a slow, sinuous spiral. In a way that defied human anatomy. The sensation was electric, her serpentine muscle tracing every ridge with agonizing precision.
The impossible woman paused, tongue lingering for one last slow, deliberate lick. Her brow arched, and a slow, knowing smirk crept across her lips.
"Huh." A soft hum vibrated against my skin and I withhold a sigh.
“Fresh.” she said. “Less than two hours ago.“
Oh, fuck me.
“Anko do yo—“
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,“ her curled fingers around me tightened, “You didn’t want to talk, so don’t talk.“
I withhold another sigh, this one of resignation.
“Less than two hour… an hour and half tops,“ her tongue darted out again, tracing a vein. “No perfume. Natural scent. So not some brothel girl.“
I scoffed loudly. Like I’d pay for sex.
"Oh-oh? Offended, little Snake Snack?" Anko’s lips curled into a mock pout, her brows lifting in a fake-ass expression of sympathy. "Don’t worry, I know you’re not the type to visit those establishments." Then her smirk sharpened, eyes gleaming with something wicked. "You’re too damn cheap for that."
If I hadn’t been insulted before, I certainly was now. "There’s nothing little about me."
She didn’t let that distract her. If anything, my words barely registered. Anko was locked in now— focused, fixated.
And knowing her? Trying to pull away, trying to break her concentration, would only make her more of a pain in my ass. Snakes didn’t like losing their prey.
Her tongue darted out again, tracing a vein. "She came. Too hard and more than once. Hoho, she must’ve had the time of her live."
I perked up at that, “Is that so?“
Anko tilted her head, spiky ponytail shifting with the motion. Her fingers idly traced along my length as she continued, ignoring my question, her voice dropping, lower, musing. "Her taste… it’s distinct. Sweet. Slightly tangy. Strong, too strong, but not in a way that clings like perfume or oils. Natural. Not a civilian. A kunoichi. Not just anyone either. A clan woman, probably. One of those sturdy types with chakra to burn. Tastes like it. Hmmm….."
If I hadn’t realized she was scary before, I sure as hell did now.
Damn it. She’s so hot.
Her eyes locked onto mine, gleaming with mischief.
"So. Who was she? Some kunoichi with a thing for brooding, mysterious types?" She squeezed, just shy of painful. "Or…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Someone I know?"
Well, yes. everyone in the village and beyond do know The Red-Hot Habanero. But while I rarely keep any secrets from this persistent woman, rarely did I reveal them myself. She would either come to the conclusion or be informed when things come to light.
For now, I wanted to enjoy what might be my last blowjob. So, without hesitation, I reached out, fingers threading through Anko’s spiky ponytail. Then I pushed.
She went down without resistance, lips sealing around me as I pressed her to the base. All the way back—no hesitation, no gag reflex. Her throat was made for this. She took me with practiced ease, and for a moment, I just savored the feeling of her wrapped around me, warm, wet, and utterly unbothered.
But, of course, Anko couldn’t keep her mouth shut for long.
Her throat vibrated with a hum, and when I let up she pulled back with a wet pop, her serpentine tongue flicking across her lips as she analyzed the taste completely unbothered at the casual abuse her throat went through. Her pupil-less eyes gleamed with predatory amusement as she made her first guess.
"Hana Inuzuka?" she purred making a guess, her fingers still working my length. "You do stare at her ass every time she walks by with those dogs of hers."
“Can you blame me?” I snorted.
Anko huffed through her nose, shaking her head. “Nah, she got a perky little ass. I’d look too.” But then her smirk faltered for just a moment, and I saw the gears turn behind her sharp, glinting eyes. “No… not her.”
She flicked her tongue again, slower this time, tracing with almost clinical precision. "Hana is too virgin for this taste. This one is older. But not worn out. Fertile, even." Her voice was low, thoughtful. Then she leaned back just enough to glance up at me, one brow arched.
Hana’s virgin? A thirty years old virgin was no rare in this word, still Hana…. I should probably rectify this injustice. In due time. If I wasn’t killed.
I tightened my grip in her violet ponytail and thrust upward sharply, cutting off any further commentary as I filled her throat completely. Anko's eyes widened slightly in surprise but she didn't gag — she never did. Her throat muscles fluttered around me as she instinctively swallowed.
After holding her there for a long moment, I allowed her to pull back just enough to speak. She gasped dramatically, though I knew she could hold her breath much longer. "What?" she crooned, her voice husky from the throatfucking. "Did I hit a nerve? Or are you just eager to shut me up?"
"Both," I growled, pushing her down again. This time I held her there, watching as tears welled in her light brown eyes from the strain. But true to form, Anko didn't struggle. Her fingers dug into my thighs, her nails leaving crescent marks in my skin as she took everything I gave her.
When I finally released her, she came up with a wet gasp, saliva trailing from her swollen lips. But instead of complaining, she licked her lips and grinned.
"Mmm, if not Hana Inuzuka," she mused, her voice rough. Her eyes lit up with sudden realization. "Oh ho! Tsume Inuzuka? You went after the mother, while luring the daughter?" She let out a low whistle. "You dog." Anko chuckled at her own pun before continuing. "That wild bitch always did have an eye for dangerous men." Her fingers traced circles at the base of my shaft. "Bet she rides like one of her ninken in heat too."
I tightened my grip in her hair again, but she just laughed, the sound vibrating through my entire body. "What's wrong?" she taunted, her confidence swelled, mistaking my reaction for confirmation. She had been right, I’m not bad at lying. "Don't like me talking about your new bitch?" Her tongue snaked out to lap at the head. "Don't worry... I'll make sure you forget all about her."
True to her words, Anko forced herself down until her nose pressed flush against my stomach. Her throat convulsed around me. Her muscles rippled, undulating in slow, sinuous waves, milking me deeper.
"Fuck—" I gritted out as I fisted her violet ponytail tighter, my hips jerking upward on instinct.
Anko’s eyes watered, tears streaking her cheeks, but her lips curled into a smirk around my shaft. She liked this. Liked the burn, the lack of air, the way her vision blurred at the edges.
I held her there long enough to make an able kunoichi struggle, watching the veins in her neck bulge as she fought to stay conscious. Her fingers clawed at my thighs, not to push away — but to pull herself closer.
She taunts, she teases, she plays the predator — but at her core, Anko was an irredeemable masochist.
She pushes just to be pushed back. She bares her fangs just to feel them broken. She acts like she’s in control, but deep down, she craves the moment it’s ripped away from her.
Then, just as her body began to tremble, I yanked her back.
Air rushed into her lungs with a wet gasp. Saliva strung from her lips to the tip of my cock, glistening in the dim light.
"That," she rasped, her voice wrecked, "all you got?"
Her tongue — too long, too flexible — slithered out, licking a stripe from base to tip.
I snarled outwardly and slammed her back down.
This time, her throat opened for me, her windpipe flattening unnaturally as she took me straight into her gullet. No human should’ve been able to do that. But Anko wasn’t just human.
Her neck bulged obscenely, the outline of my cock visible beneath her pale skin. She swallowed around me, her esophagus clenching in rhythmic pulses, mimicking the coil of a snake digesting prey.
I fucked her throat in brutal, shallow thrusts, each one punching a wet gurk from her lungs. Her nails drew blood from my hips, her thighs squeezing together in desperate friction.
When I finally pulled her off, she collapsed forward, drool pooling beneath her chin. But even then, she grinned up at me, feral and triumphant.
I stared down at Anko for a long moment, watching the way her chest heaved, her breath still ragged from the throat abuse. Her violet ponytail was disheveled, strands sticking to her damp cheeks, her light brown eyes glazed yet still burning.
Then, without a word, I stood and grabbed her by the scruff of her tan overcoat, flipping her onto all fours like a disobedient animal.
To some, the position might’ve been humiliating, would have shamed most women. But shame had never been in Anko’s nature. She arched spine, hips raised, legs spread just enough to expose her.
The tokubetsu jōnin let out a sharp laugh, her voice still hoarse. "What, is this how you fucked that Inuzuka bitch?" she taunted, arching her back in mock submission. "On her hands and knees like a bitch in heat? So fitting for her."
I didn’t answer. She knew me too well—if I gave her anything, she’d run with it, twist it into another tangent before I could rein her back in.
I hadn’t fucked either the Inuzuka mother or daughter. But if I made it out of this night alive, I probably would.
I ignored her taunts and lifted her overcoat, pushing the heavy fabric up her back. Beneath it, an orange mini-skirt and that thin mesh bodysuit, clunging to every curve, stretched taut over pale, unmarked skin. The way it shaped to her slender frame — the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the taut muscles of her back.
I trailed a hand over her, feeling the way the mesh shifted under my palm. My fingers hooked into the waistband of her dark orange mini-skirt, peeling it up and over her ass, out of the way. exposing the curve of her cheeks, the softness of her thighs. The mesh beneath was already damp, the fabric clinging to her skin with a lewd sheen.
I didn’t bother with finesse.
Grabbing the hem of the mesh, I tore it down to her knees in one sharp motion, the material parting with a quiet rip.
She wore no panties under it.
Bared before me, her cunt glistened — pale pink, paler than Kushina’s, shaved where the older woman wasn’t. The contrast of her flushed sex against her milky thighs was obscene, the way her hips twitched in anticipation even more so.
"Pathetic," I muttered, running a thumb along her slit, gathering her wetness.
Anko hissed, her back arching further, her fingers clawing at the floor. "Fuck you," she said, her body trembling.
I pressed the head of my cock against her entrance, teasing, not yet giving her what she craved.
Anko growled, her fangs bared — not in threat, but in invitation.
I couldn't help but smile, she indeed had missed me, hadn’t she?
