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Need a Baker

Rating: Explicit

@genmaweek prompt: Birthday Party

Pairing: Genma/Sakura

Summary: Genma comes home early to help Sakura prepare for his birthday party and catches her doing something completely unexpected.

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Genma barely had time to react as two hands grasped him by the shoulders and pushed him out of the door of his own shop. He turned around to face his best friend (now assistant manager) with puppy dog eyes.

“Go. We’re not going to let you close on the night of your birthday party,” Raidou said firmly, leaving no room for debate. Genma’s skateboard was unceremoniously thrust into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he sulked away. Even three years after opening his skate shop, it was still his baby, and delegating was always a struggle for him. With a sigh, he hopped onto his board and took off down the block.

If he was being honest, though, Genma was grateful that Raidou had forced him out of the door. Sakura had taken the day off, a huge undertaking for the busy neurosurgeon, and was preparing to host his birthday party at her apartment. Leaving work a few hours early meant that he could help her out, and it would make him feel less guilty about his already overworked girlfriend going out of her way to have a party on his behalf.

When he rolled up to Sakura’s tall swanky complex about ten minutes later, Genma pulled out the key that she had sweetly provided him six months into dating and let himself into her apartment. He called out a greeting to her as he kicked his shoes off at the door, but heard no reply.

“Maybe she’s in her room?” he murmured to himself before walking toward the stairs. However, he caught a flash of pink in the kitchen and turned toward her in surprise.

Sakura had her back to him, tapping a cup of flour into a bowl with her earbuds in. She was wearing a small pair of black running shorts and a red tank top, lightly humming to herself as she cracked an egg against the counter. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked casually stunning, as per usual. He took one step in her direction but was interrupted by Sakura’s voice. “Bitch I’m a problem nobody solvin’, you can keep hatin’, I’m poppin’ regardless,” she rapped to herself, and Genma’s jaw dropped.

Sweet innocent Sakura listened to rap? Until now, Genma was utterly convinced that she only listened to those boring medical podcasts that had him drifting off on long car trips. The brunette grinned mischievously and figured there was no shame in hanging back to see what his little cherry blossom was up to.

The rosette continued to toss ingredients into the mixing bowl, rolling her hips to the music playing in her ears and piping in with sporadic lines of the song. He heard the bass pick up from across the room, and suddenly, she shook her ass in a way that belonged on a club dance floor.

“Dance on the dick, now, you been served, I like a dick with a little bit of curve, hit this pussy with an uppercut,” Genma’s jaw dropped as she playfully accompanied the line by punching the air before continuing, “Call that, ah, Captain Hook!” She cracked a smile and laughed softly to herself as she started the hand mixer.

Genma and Sakura had been dating for nearly a year now, and he had never heard her swear. Hell, getting her to say anything other than his name and “oh god” in bed was a struggle. Even at her most frustrated, his girlfriend was always composed - he supposed it was a side effect of having a profession that required unrivaled professionalism.

But Sakura’s secret was out now.

“I need a Mr. Clean, make that pussy beam, okay, I just might need a baker, make that pussy cream,” she sang as she swirled the spatula and her hips in time. She lowered into a squat to pull a pan from the lower cabinet, bouncing her ass like she was riding a dick and causing her running shorts to ride up indecently. Genma was unashamedly hard at the sight.

She spooned the batter into the baking pan, grinding her hips against the counter to match the music. When the bowl was emptied, Sakura took the spatula and suggestively licked the batter from it. “I’m too sexy to be fuckin’ under covers,” she exclaimed, turning to throw the utensil into the sink and finally catching sight of Genma in the doorway.

Sakura screamed.

And in her shock, she pegged him in the forehead with the spatula.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Sakura gasped in concern as he folded over in equal parts laughter and pain. “You scared me!”

Genma felt her delicate hand on the small of his back, and when he finally composed himself, he stood up. He smirked at her, teasing, “I didn’t know you listened to rap.” She immediately blushed in response.

“H-How long were you there for?” Sakura asked with a tinge of panic.

“Long enough,” he said, placing a kiss on the corner of her lips as she flushed even darker in embarrassment.

Sakura turned back to the pan filled with batter, sliding it into the pre-heated oven and setting a timer. She chewed her bottom lip nervously as she turned back around, leaning against the counter and looking up with her bright green eyes. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Genma chuckled in response. “What, I shouldn’t know that my girlfriend uses bad words sometimes? Or that she can twerk?”

“I was not twerking,” she huffed. “I was dancing. That thing you do when you like the music you’re listening to.”

“That kind of dancing belongs in the bedroom, sweetheart,” he teased, walking over so he could place his hands on her hips. “Or the kitchen is fine if you’re feeling kinky.”

“Genma,” Sakura whined. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

His lips curved into a predatory grin. “I think you can persuade me. Maybe if I hear more of those dirty words again, I can be convinced to conveniently forget to tell our friends about this incident.”

“Ugh, you’re so embarrassing,” Sakura groaned as she half-heartedly pushed his hands off her hips.

“Maybe I can just request a repeat performance at my party tonight. You know, you can’t deny the birthday boy a gift,” Genma purred with a wag of his eyebrows, drawing her back in.

“You’re exhausting,” she sighed, feigning exasperation. “Fine. What do you want?”

Genma pressed one hand against Sakura’s lower back and the other on the back of her thighs, lifting her onto the counter. She squeaked as the cold tile touched her ass. “I want to make that pussy cream.”

Sakura looked like she was ready to die of mortification. “Oh. My. God. Stop.”

As Genma peeled her shorts and panties down her smooth shapely legs, he couldn’t help but admire the way her cheeks reddened. “This is improper,” she protested, but it didn’t stop him from reaching up to graze her breasts under her loose tank top. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“And I just heard you say plenty of improper words,” Genma said playfully, lifting her shirt to brush his lips over the soft skin of her belly. “I’m not going to give it to you until you ask for it, so hop to it.”

Sakura bit her bottom lip hard as Genma toyed with her nipples, teasing the crook of her hip with open-mouthed kisses. “Isn’t this supposed to be your birthday present?”

“Mi pleasure es su pleasure, baby,” he said smoothly as he dug his teeth into her thigh. She let out a small unintended moan in reply.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the collective groan of the Spanish-speaking population of the world.”

Genma chose to ignore the jab, spreading her legs open with his warm palms and admiring the glistening honey already visible between her thighs. He wet his lips in anticipation. “So saucy today, sweetheart. But you’re already turned on and you can’t hide from me, so why don’t you just ask for it?”

Sakura rolled her eyes, but when he ran his tongue over her outer folds, her hips jerked hard. She mumbled something under her breath, and he grinned.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Genma asked as he repeated the action with a little more pressure, drawing a gasp this time. “All I heard was something about eating. I’ll enjoy eating that cake tonight while I tell stories about how innocent little Dr. Haruno is actually a twerking deviant.”

She nearly screamed in frustration. Defeated, she begged, “Please eat my pussy, Genma!”

“Gladly,” Genma said before parting her folds with his tongue. The shuddering little moan she let out made his pants uncomfortably tight, and he flicked the top button open to relieve some of the pressure. When he slid two fingers inside her slick entrance and suckled on her clit, her hips nearly came off the counter.

“S-So good!” Sakura keened, grinding against his face. “F-Fuck.” The guttural way the word caught in her throat made arousal coil dangerously within him.

If there was anything Genma took pride in, it was his ability to make a woman come with his tongue. He was notorious for having a lifelong oral fixation, keeping something in his mouth most of the time - toothpick, gum, etc. But there was nothing more satisfying than feeling a gush of wetness on his lips and a pair of gorgeous thighs squeezing his face.

He redoubled his efforts, flattening his tongue against Sakura’s clit and drinking in the sight of her head thrown back, her knuckles white as she gripped the counter. The sounds that spilled from her lips were rising in pitch and frequency, and he crooked his fingers upward to match the increased pace of his tongue. Genma had a sneaking suspicion that she was already aroused from her earlier dancing because she was rarely worked up this quickly.

“I love your mouth on my clit,” Sakura moaned, and he was so fucking hard hearing her talk like that. Her fingers laced through his shoulder-length hair, tugging him closer to her. “Fuck, Genma, you’re gonna make me come.”

He groaned against her sopping pussy, the wet sounds of his fingers and tongue filling the kitchen. Genma knew she was ready to come when he felt the telltale release of tension before she clamped down hard on his fingers. She toppled over the edge with his name on her lips, trembling as she rode out the waves of pleasure. He kept stroking her with his tongue and fingers until she was so overstimulated that she pushed him away.

At that exact moment, the timer for the cake went off.

“Ah, fuck,” Sakura said as she nudged Genma back far enough to hop off the counter. She grabbed a pair of oven mitts, bending over to pull the cake from the oven. He admired the curve of her naked ass, and if she hadn’t been holding something hot, he would have certainly groped it.

Sakura preened with satisfaction over the cake. “I just need to let it cool before I add icing.”

“I can add some icing,” Genma winked.

The rosette rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

“I can’t believe you,” the brunette retorted. “You were a wildcat this whole time and you didn’t even tell me.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was some sort of slut,” Sakura said with a pout. “And sometimes it’s hard to break out of professional mode, you know?”

Genma slid his hand to cup her ass, drawing her close to kiss her breathless. When he pulled away, he said, “You’re not just any slut. You’re my slut.”

“You are the literal worst,” Sakura lamented, but her lips curved up in a grin as she slid her hand down the front of Genma’s pants to stroke his length, green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you think we have time for me to dance on your dick?”

Genma’s eyes lit up as he tugged her by the arm toward her bedroom. “Absolutely.”

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