[Naruto] Kakashi & Sakura Drabble Challenges│M│Kakashi/Sakura
Title: First
Author: Winter Ashby (rosweldrmr)
Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto & Challenge © kakasakudrabble at LiveJournal
Rating: M for sexual innuendoes - Kakashi has a dirty mind.
Word Count: 500 - exactly!
Summary: First, he would undress her. Then... (Kakashi & Sakura)
Authors Notes: Week 14 Theme: First. I couldn't help myself. I saw the word of the week and just had to do it! You know you like it!
First he would undress her.
He would inch the zipper down her chest and past her stomach.
Then he would peal the red from her shoulders and let it disappear behind him, lost to the warm wooden floors.
Then he would slip the shinning blade of his kunai through the mesh that held her bandages down. He liked the way her eyes widened when he pulled out the weapon and the way her breath caught in her throat when metal met flesh in fleeting grazes.
Then he would unwrap her, like a present. He laughed while pulled the white fabric from her chest and let the cheerful noise die in his mouth as she became agonizingly bare for him.
He would lick his lips, because she was so close now - he could almost taste her.
Then he would tip her back and down to met with silken sheets and feather pillows.
Then he would unbuckle the fabric of her pull-away skirt.
He like this the most, because at the exact moment the buckle relinquished its hold, he dipped his face down to pull it from her with his teeth. She seemed to like this too.
Then he would take hold of her hips, careful to dig his fingers into the hallow dips on her back on either side of her spine.
Then he would work the fabric of her tiny shorts over her hips and past reality straight into his most vivid fantasies.
Then - he would just look at her.
Her skin was marred with scars and bruises - because she was a kunoichi. He liked her even more.
Next he would undress himself.
He wasn’t as careful.
He tore and ripped at the fabric that kept him from her and hated clothes at that moment; because they were obsolete and completely unnecessary. They only got in the way.
He removed his mask last, and smiled as she gasped in subtle surprise.
He wanted even more.
Then he was naked and hovering over her.
Waiting, breathing, waiting, watching, waiting, hoping, waiting, living, waiting, dying, waiting, wanting…
She invited him in with the curl of her lips and the bashful twitter of her luscious lashes.
Then he hesitated.
She was innocent, and young. And he was perverted, and old.
He leaned down and tasted her lips, sweet and bitter, just like he always imagined she would be.
Then she would kiss back, her tiny hands wandering over his back and through his hair. Her tongue slid against his and he moan into her lips.
Then she would say his name, low and throaty, like she knew exactly what she wanted. And her hips bucked and scrapped again the one part of him that ached for her so much so that breathing became difficult in the wake of her proximity.
Then his trepidation would melt away in the heat of her embrace.
Then he would pull back and move in.
Then he would wake up.
…
First he would take a cold shower…
In the immortal words of Quagmire:
Giggidy, giggidy, gig-gi-dy!