It's Always a Party with You Two
Kazuha X Sakura X Reader
Word Count: 6.5k
Genre: NSFW, Fluff, Smut, Comedy
Part of @prael hosted prompt event
Idol: SakuraPrompt: "You are the Sith-Lord we were looking for."
Synopsis: After an awkward morning, more so dealing with the hungover than actually talking about what had happened. The night that you, Sakura and Kazuha shared was moved on from, without much addressing.
Now, with the girls gone to a party, the apartment sits too quiet—peaceful on the surface, but you know it's not going to be a quiet welcome when they return back.
You’re half-sunk into the couch, phone in hand, scrolling without seeing. From the bedroom comes the faint hum of Sakura’s hairdryer — quarter to eight, she’s been getting ready for hours, not a hint of rush in her.
The doorbell rings.
You set your phone aside, eyes flicking toward the sound before calling out, “Babe! Kkura. Kazuha’s here!”
A distant, muffled reply: “Can you get it?”
Already on your feet, you make your way to the door. The second it swings open, you’re greeted by Kazuha — black robes, black top, black pants, black boots. Even the tie pulling her hair back in a neat bun is black. Only the silver lightsaber at her side breaks the monotony. For all that dark clothing, her smile is small, almost sheepish.
She hesitates a beat too long, flinching back half a step when your eyes meet. Then she just stands there, lips pressed tight, staring up at you.
“Hi?” you offer first, breaking the silence.
“Hi.” Her voice comes quiet, shy.
You step back, opening the door wider in welcome. She stepped inside in exchange, passing over you.
“So… Luke Skywalker?”
“Hm?” She glances over her shoulder at you as you follow her inside, laughing lightly in confusion. “Who?”
“Uh… is that not your costume?” You’re already drifting back toward the couch as Kazuha continues past you — of course she’s heading straight for the kitchen, scouting for snacks.
“Is it? Sakura just handed me this and said we had to match.” Her voice carries from behind the counter as you sink into the cushions again. A moment later, you spot the top of her head barely peeking over as she crouches into the fridge.
“I baked some brownies earlier. Green tupperware,” you call.
She straightens with the container in hand, raid successful. Popping the lid, she peers inside suspiciously before padding toward you. “Yours, not Kkura’s?”
“Yes, mine. I can cook too, you know. Ms. Miyawaki Sakura herself was my mentor, in case you’re still doubtful.” You refocus on the TV as it finishes booting.
“Pumpkin-shaped cookies. Cute. Very Halloween.” Her voice drifts closer, then hovers right above you. “What are you watching?”
“Just some video essay. Online game.” You tilt your head back slightly; sure enough, Kazuha’s standing behind the couch, gaze fixed on the screen.
“Five–Six hours?” she scoffs. “Six hours about a video game you’re not even playing? And this is why you’re skipping the party? Really? You’re just gonna let your girlfriend go without you?”
Eyes still on the TV, you reply evenly, “First — not just any party. Yunjin’s. She’ll look out for the two of you. Second — she’s not going alone, she’s going with you. You’ll take care of her. Third — those two things combined means I get a quiet night.”
Kazuha pauses, then murmurs, “Sakura’s more likely to take care of me than I am of her.”
Good point. You stay quiet at that.
Kazuha’s halfway through chewing a brownie when she suddenly gasps — a sharp, startled sound — and nearly drops the container.
“Hello there!” a third voice chimes in — familiar, referenced, intentional.
You glance up.
Sakura stands behind her, a smug grin on her face, one hand still midair from the playful slap. “Couldn’t resist,” she says, tone sing-song.
You narrow your eyes. She’s doing it again. “Sakura. Was that a quote—”
Before you can finish, Kazuha whirls around, eyes wide, clutching the tupperware like a shield. “Kkura! What was that slap for!?”
Sakura only laughs, stepping back to show herself — her costume finally revealed. White gown, silver belt, the faint shimmer of fabric catching the light. Her hair’s half-done, one of Leia’s iconic buns complete, the other still loose around her shoulder.
“You were bent over, sticking your butt out,” she teases, twirling a strand of hair. “I just wanted to see if it was still as firm as I remember.”
Before Kazuha can form a response — too busy spluttering between shyness and surprise — you interject, “Princess Leia?”
“Obviously,” Sakura replies, already turning back toward the mirror to finish her hair.
“That seems like a hassle,” you remark. “Why not just buy a wig or extensions?”
“I figured I could do it myself. It’s a fun challenge,” she says, focusing on her reflection. “I can knit, so why not hair? I’ve got great hair — why use a fake?”
You watch her twist and pin the final coil into place, while Kazuha silently circles around the couch and drops beside you. She’s close — close enough that her shoulder brushes yours — but she doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she does, and just doesn’t think much of it.
Neither should you. You’ve been closer before, and this means nothing by comparison.
Your gaze drifts back to Sakura. “So, babe, why’s Kazuha Luke? Couldn’t she be Rey or someone? Why the crossdressing — or Luke specifically?”
“Because,” Sakura says simply, turning toward you as she walks closer. “This would’ve made more sense if you came with us.”
You glance back, feeling the sudden pressure on your side, Kazuha’s leaning into you — her shoulder brushing yours, her weight light but present. It’s a familiar kind of closeness, the kind that’s never needed explaining. The three of you have always been like this. Even after that night — that blurred, heat-hazed freak you all never got to sit down and talk about — nothing really changed. Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.
It should feel normal. It was. But when your eyes meet Sakura’s, that certainty wavers. She doesn’t say anything — doesn’t frown, doesn’t even blink — and that silence feels too composed. Shouldn’t she at least react, when your best friend is this close to your boyfriend?
Something got caught at the edge of your mind, a hint of normalcy, in otherwise atypical arrangement of a trio that you had, a thought: What if she’s not as fine with it as she looks?
And just like that, the weight that was leaning on your shoulder — what was seconds ago light as a feather now weighs, suddenly your odd clashed with the norm.
“If all three of us went,” Sakura continues, closer than before. You turn to her, pouting now, “you would’ve been Darth Vader. You still have that really good cosplay from a few years back.”
“And…?” you prompt, still waiting for her real answer.
“...And, we would’ve been a trio! The family!.” Sakura’s hands flew into your cheek holding you to face her, with a bit of force to squish. Her smile is radiant, playful, and just a little too knowing."You are the Sith-Lord we were looking for–"
“No.” you immediately break out of her hold.
“What?” she feigns innocence, eyes wide with amusement.
“You’ve been quoting Star Wars nonstop. Every chance you get. Non. Stop.”
She grins — the dumb, guilty kind. “What? It’s fun! I didn’t make fun of you for being a Star Wars nerd, and now that I try to join in you’re policing me?”
Her gaze drifts past you. “Kazuha likes it. It’s fun, right?”
You turn to her — she’s halfway through another bite of brownie, nodding as she always does.
“First of all,” you say, exasperated, “I don’t quote Star Wars every time I walk into a room. Second, you only just watched it last weekend.”
But by the time you finish, Sakura’s already halfway down the hall, her laugh echoing faintly as she disappears into the bedroom.
Beside you, Kazuha has already resumed her usual spot — shoulder brushing yours again — calmly munching on the cookies she’d been holding earlier. She catches you staring, pauses mid-bite, and hums in question.
“You know,” you sigh, “you don’t always have to nod at everything. You’re getting eerily close to a dog.” The words come out half in jest, half in concern.
“It was funny,” she says simply, as if that explains everything. Knowing Kazuha, it probably does — she’d agree on impulse, convince herself after.
“Funny how?”
“You know… because looking for seeds and all that…” Her voice trails off, the joke collapsing halfway through.
“Siths not seeds. You haven’t even watched Star Wars!”
“Okay!” Sakura’s voice cuts in, saving Kazuha from being cornered, as she reappears with a purse slung over her shoulder.
“You good?” you ask, meaning if she’s set to leave.
“Yeah.” She turns her gaze to the side — to Kazuha, who’s already setting the now-empty tupperware on the table, brushing crumbs from her lap as she stands.
“Zuha, let’s go?”
You follow them to the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame. “Take care!” you call out. “Don’t hesitate to call me.”
“We’ll be fine,” Sakura waves you off without looking.
“I’ll be staying up late anyway, so really—don’t hesitate,” you add, this time directing it a little more toward Kazuha.
Sakura immediately catches it. “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”
You groan. “You have to stop doing that.” Your hands reach out and pinch her cheeks before she can dodge. “Sakura, babe.”
She yelps softly, swatting at you as she tries to wriggle free, and only escapes once she steps out the door—with Kazuha right behind her. When you finally let go, she’s frowning at you. Adorably so.
“I love you,” you tell her, because you can’t help yourself.
“I know.” She tries to keep her frown, but it quickly turns into smug, just like the character she had imitated.
You stare at her. “Oh my God, just go.” You can’t win.
You’re halfway turned back into the apartment when she calls, “Babe!”
Before you can even look back, she’s already there—planting a quick kiss on your lips before checking the strap of her bag, eyes darting down as if it were nothing. Normally, she just pecks your cheek before heading out. The lips feel like… an excuse.
Or maybe—
You realize, too late, that you’ve been standing there staring blankly at Kazuha. Not meaning to—just caught in thought—but to her, it must look like expectation. The timing couldn’t be worse: Sakura’s kiss still lingers, and now your gaze lands squarely on her.
Kazuha, who has trouble saying no. Who always reads too much into silence, always fills it with what she thinks you want. You can practically see the misunderstanding form in her eyes—hesitates for only a beat. Then she moves before you can speak.
A quick, nervous step forward. A kiss—brief, almost weightless—on your lips. So fast it feels like a reflex, so soft it leaves only confusion in its wake.
Her eyes widen the moment she pulls back, realizing what she’s done. She stumbles half a step away, hands awkwardly clasped behind her, cheeks burning.
Sakura looks up right then, having just finished checking her bag. Her gaze meets yours, just as aware, just as caught off guard. In silence, her lips twitch, and then—barely—she holds back a laugh.
Kazuha’s already half-hidden behind her hair, mumbling something about waiting by the elevator.
“May the force be with you” Sakura lastly yells as she catch up to Kazuha.
You exhale. Déjà vu.
It’s just past 2 a.m. You’ve been glued to the couch for hours—nothing but the dull hum of the t.v. and the soft voice of a six-hour video essay about a space game you’ve never even played. It’s almost over now, the voice fading into its closing remarks, replaced by the cold blue glow of the play next screen.
Still nothing from the girls.
The last you heard was a photo—Sakura, Kazuha, and Yunjin squeezed into the frame, all smiles and Yujin’s kitchen counter top, only now its dim yet glowed neon and streaks of lazers. That was hours ago. You texted. Called once or twice. No response, which was fine at first. Sakura never checked her phone at parties. But now… it’s been long enough to bother you.
As the autoplay timer ticks down, you finally grab your phone again. The call rings, rings, no answer. You’re about to hang up and start convincing yourself to go check on them personally when—
The doorbell. It breaks through the quiet.
You rise and make your way to the door. Checking the peephole would’ve been smart — but you don’t think of that. Not when what greets you the moment the door swings open leaves your mind blank.
Sakura, the tedious hairdo that she left with never returned home, half-braced against the frame, lips locked with Kazuha. Her hand grips the back of Kazuha’s head, fingers tangled in her hair, their kiss slow, deliberate—too deep to mistake for anything playful. Kazuha’s palms press against the door for balance, her breath hitching when their mouths part just enough to drag in air—then sealing again, like instinct.
You stand there, frozen. Watching. Thinking nothing.
It’s Kazuha who notices you first—her lashes flutter, eyes meeting yours, widening in instant horror. She jerks back so fast she nearly loses her footing, stammering breathless and red.
Sakura just laughs, chasing the air Kazuha left behind. Her giggle slurs, dizzy and warm, before she met your eyes.
Exaggerating a gasp, “you. You are the Sith-Lord we were looking for." Then stumbles forward into you—arms wrapping around your waist, her head finding your chest like it’s the most natural place in the world, “Chewie, we’re home.”
“First,” you say finally, steadying her by the shoulders. Sakura hums, looking up at you with that glazed, satisfied smile. “Even when drunk, really? You’re still on it?”
“Second. Aren’t you two supposed to be siblings? Luke and Leia?”
Well they did kiss…
Kazuha flinches, face buried behind her hands. “...Sorry,” she whispers, barely audible.
Sakura just laughs again, muffled against your shirt. “Well they did kiss…”
Your hands move on their own — returning the warmth she’s giving, snug against you. It’d feel unreasonable not to hold her. So you do. A soft pat, a brush through her hair.
Then your eyes lift to the doorway — to Kazuha, who looks like a drenched puppy caught in the rain, guilt and shyness written all over her face.
“Kazuha,” you sigh, genuine curiosity slipping through. “How is she more drunk than you?”
“We were playing this drinking game, and… it snowballed from there.” Her tone’s sheepish, yet believable. Sakura and games never mixed well — you’ve known that for years.
“How about you?” you ask.
“Me?” Her eyes widen. The question seems to catch her off guard, and suddenly she’s smoothing her hair, fixing her robe, pretending composure. “No—no, I’m fine. I was a bit dizzy, but it’s gone now. Especially after trying to get Sakura home.”
“That too,” you murmur, glancing down at the girl still resting against you. “I told you to call me if needed. I wouldn’t have minded picking you up.”
“You might’ve been asleep.”
“Then I’d wake up.” Your voice comes out firmer than intended, softened only by the gentle stroke you give Sakura’s back. “Both of you were drunk. Aside from the danger, you could’ve used an extra hand.”
There’s a short silence. Then, quietly —
“Are you mad?”
“What?” You catch yourself — your voice had risen without you realizing. Too sharp. Too loud. You breathe out, trying to soften it. “No. Zuha, no, I’m not— just… just come in, okay?”
She hesitates on the threshold, one foot half-inside, half-out. “No, I shouldn’t. It’s late already. I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll just head home.”
“It’s late,” you counter gently, motioning toward the half-asleep Sakura draped in your arms. “That’s exactly why you should stay. And you’re not a burden. Trust me, I could use a little help right now.”
That seems to sway her. After a breath, Kazuha steps inside — the door closing behind her with a soft click.
You start toward the couch, adjusting Sakura’s weight, her head nestled against your shoulder. “We’ve been treating each other’s places like our own for years,” you say over your shoulder, trying to lighten the air. “Don’t act guilty now.”
There’s a pause, soft footsteps following yours. Then, barely above a whisper:
“Last time… last night you stayed together, we…”
You stop halfway across the living room, turning slightly. “What was that?”
Her eyes flick up — startled that you heard at all. A flicker of panic crosses her face before she shakes her head, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
You decide not to press. “Can you help me with her? Get her to bed. I’ll heat up some soup and coffee for the two of you.”
After a brief struggle with a clingy, giggling Sakura, you finally manage to coax her upright — or at least convince her to let Kazuha drag her toward your room.
“I’m hungry…” Sakura groans, half-slurring, half-pouting.
“Yes, I know. That’s why I’m trying to let go so I can get you something to eat.”
“It’s a trap!”
You sigh, fighting back a laugh. “I’m eighty percent sure you’re not blackout drunk and just enjoying the shit out of this.”
She only hums, nuzzling into Kazuha’s shoulder as she’s guided away. You pretend not to hear her anymore, heading toward the kitchen while the sound of shuffling feet and quiet giggles fade down the hall.
Right before the bedroom door closes, Sakura’s voice drifts out again — faint but clear:
“Hold me. Like you did by the lake on Naboo, so long ago, when there was nothing but our love.”
You pause mid-step.
What the hell does that even— No. Probably nothing. Don’t think about it.
You shake the thought off, turning to the counter where you left the soup earlier… only to find the tupperware suspiciously empty. The lid sealed neatly back on, as if to cover the crime.
Of course. Kazuha. That explains why she’d been crouched in the fridge for so long earlier.
The night won’t end—not with Sakura hungry. You let out a quiet chuckle; so much for a peaceful evening. Is it a hassle? Sure. But it’s never really a problem. Sakura’s going to look for food, you think, so Nakamura Kazuha, entertain her a bit longer. After all, this is partially your own doing.
She’ll have to endure Sakura’s chaos a little longer while you wait for the water to boil—hot enough for the instant ramen. The stillness of the night settles in, broken only by the low hum of the gas flame and the faint hiss of water about to bubble. But beneath that, faint through the hall, comes shuffling. Muffled voices.
At first, it’s Sakura’s laugh—bright, tipsy, careless. Then Kazuha’s, soft and nervous, following after. And then—something different. A tone that doesn’t belong in laughter. Pleading.
“…Yes, your babe!” Kazuha blurts, that last word unnaturally loud, forced—clearly meant for you. “Will be here soon with a tray of delicious soup—” it ends in a startled yelp.
“But I’m hungry now,” Sakura’s voice answers, lower, heavier. “Won’t Kazuha feed me?”
“K-Kkura, what—”
You don’t catch the rest. The pot starts hissing, steam spilling up as the lid rattles. You sigh, grabbing the noodles. Focus on this first. Get it done, bring it over, and hopefully save Kazuha from whatever she’s gotten herself into.
It’s been a minute—maybe more—since you last heard anything from your room. No yell, no laugh, not even the sound of movement. Just silence.
You stand by the stove, watching the noodles settle in the pot, soft strands swirling lazily in the steam. What now? Bring the food to them? Call them out to eat together? The quiet makes it hard to decide. Maybe Kazuha managed to get Sakura to sleep. Maybe.
You glance toward the hallway. The light from the kitchen barely reaches it, the shadows stretching long. After a breath, you turn off the stove. Better to check, you think. See what’s going on first, then decide.
It’s the second time tonight—not even an hour, yet these two have left you standing still, bewildered on what exactly you’ve walked into.
Sakura, your girlfriend was on top of one and only Kazuha. Both lie with their head opposite of the far head rest, almost at the edge of it. Clothes discarded, far for the middle of the scene, some clings to the corner of the crumbled sheets, some thrown aside at the floor.
At least Sakura has her underwear on but Kazuha, who was panthing and squirming underneath, definitely was bare.
Sure, it’s not a new sight, but not exactly a familiar one either. You couldn’t call it that after only seeing it once—and now, twice. Maybe it’s something you should start getting used to.
So you take in the scene. It’s not Sakura’s black lace—the only barrier between her and complete nudity—that draws you in. Nor is it Kazuha, reduced to soft moans and restless movements, helpless beneath her. It’s the tension between them.
Kazuha grips the space between the arm that pins her and the bed that holds her. Above her, Sakura’s hair drops on her side touching the face underneath. She’s fully in control—one hand refusing to let go, the other rolling and churning somewhere far beneath. Micro-adjustments, jerks, gasps—and yet one thing stays still: Sakura’s locked gaze on the girl beneath her. One look is pure hunger; the other, pleading. It’s slow, heavy—Sakura relishing the surrender of Kazuha.
The room fills with the soft sounds of their movements—the rustle of sheets, breathy moans, in rhythm with their bodies meeting.
Sakura is drunk and therefore would ask for food, and would continue to ask for it, refusing for the night to end. She is hungry,
Sakura, when drunk, becomes hungry—and the night never ends when she’s hungry. Hungry is the perfect word, vague enough to encompass every appetite she has. With Kazuha’s insatiable compliance, you can only blame yourself for forgetting your lover’s tendencies. You should’ve seen it coming.
“Fuck…” The word slips out—not out of anger, not at yourself or either of them. Maybe because there’s nothing else to say. Or maybe because, in a moment like this, it’s the only thing that fits.
Raw and unfiltered—your voice, that is and apparently, so is your girlfriend. Sakura’s head snaps up, her gaze locking with yours. A pause. Silence—at least between the two of you, while the woman beneath her still heaves in labored breaths.
“Oh, look.” Sakura’s voice cuts through the haze, light and teasing.
Kazuha finally blinks out of her daze, her head snapping back to find you.
“Look, it’s the Sith—” Sakura starts again, grin curling, still halfway in her bit.
“You okay, Kazuha?” you interrupt, cutting off Sakura before she can drag the joke further. Her gaze meets yours—wide, glassy, and far too inviting for someone caught beneath your girlfriend. You don’t even question why Sakura’s still on top of her. Kazuha only nods, breathless.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Sakura hums, lips quirking as she glances up at you. “Come here, babe. You are making us wait.” She purred, glancing down, giving Kazuha’s breast a playful squeeze, “Isn’t that right, Zuha?”
Kazuha blushes deeply, her dazed eyes struggling to focus as she looks up at you. There’s a mix of embarrassment and pleading, maybe. She doesn’t say a word, but her gaze does enough. She’s silently asking you to come closer.
You hesitate, briefly, only for a moment. Just as quickly you exhale, shrug it off, and step forward. Both of them watch as you approach—their attention heavy, expectant. Sakura’s hand rises to meet you halfway, palm open, waiting.
You take it. Her skin is warm, slick, the faint stickiness telling you exactly where that hand had been, deep within Kazuha. Sakura’s fingers curl around yours, and she tugs—gentle, but insistent—pulling you in faster than your cautious pace. Your knees bump the edge of the bed.
Satisfied, Sakura’s lips curl into a grin. Below her, Kazuha lies still, breath shallow, eyes flicking between the two of you—trapped beneath Sakura’s weight, with nowhere else to look but up.
Sakura’s fingers deftly worked at the waistband of your shorts, tugging and quickly pulling until she finally yanked it downwards. Your already excited cock sprang free, as it was released from your shorts that now pooled in your feet. Sakura licked her lips, trying to tame her hunger.
Without hesitation, not a second after her hands gripped your length, she leaned close and wrapped her lips around your tip, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head, testing.
It didn’t last long, She sucked gently, her cheeks hollowing as she took more of you into her warm, wet mouth. All the while she—not forgetting about her friend, perhaps it was greed—Her hand continued to grope and massage Kazuha’s tits, pinching and rolling the stiff peaks between her fingers.
Kazuha gasped and squirmed, barely kept satisfied with Sakura’s busy hands. Losing yourself in pleasure and covered by Sakura’s arching back you could barely see but definitely Kazuha was reaching for herself, her eyes glued to your girlfriend as she worshiped your cock.
You could only groan, head falling back in ecstasy as Sakura’s mouth—tailored, learned, trained for your pleasure—worked over your aching shaft. It felt like magic, her tongue, laving and caressing every inch of you. You tangled your finger, trying to find grip in her smooth hair, guiding her head as she bobbed up and down your length.
As if the physical sensation wasn’t enough the scene that these two girls were presenting was more than enough to send any man to the edge, and you were not an exception to that, every second inching closer.
With great effort, you pull away from Sakura’s mouth—briefly trying to chase until you hold her still—a strand of saliva connecting her bottom lip to your engorged head. Sakura panted softly, before she flashed you a grin, Her eyes told you of the mischief and lust she had yet to show. “Mmm, I was thinking about this all night,” she purred, giving you cock an extra parting lick before she finally leaned back. She didn’t let go though, keeping you on the edge with her slow strokes on your cock. “I shouldn’t be too greedy, I think it's only fair you give Kazuha here some attention too, hmm?”
Almost forgotten—too focused on keeping yourself from exploding—You darted your eyes to Kazuha, who just as you were taken out of her focus as she heard her name. Her arms that reached below slowed its rhythm, with Sakura leaning even more back, now towering over her, she's realizing that now she had become the focus of Sakura and you.
“H–hey.” nervously she blurts.
Which evokes a chuckle from Sakura, “Oh, Zuha baby, why are you so cute.” Sakura leans in lower this time, it's for Kazuha this time. She started trailing her kisses up, from Kazuha modest breast to her neck and jawline. Kazuha whimpered and mewled, her back arching off the bed as Sakura;s lips found hers. They kissed deeply, tongues tangling and dancing, tasting each other with a fervor that left you almost ignored.
Until Sakura broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting their mouths. She smiled coyly at Kazuha, “baby can you do me a favor?” Kazhua immediately nods, as she catches the breath she lost with Sakura. “You think you can do what I did earlier?” Kazuha naturally drifts her sight on your cock with Sakura’s question, your girlfriend meanwhile, with her friend oblivious, Sakura’s couldn't hint the glint of danger on her eyes.
Her fingers trace Kazuha’s neck as it stretches with Kazuha looking at you. Sakura glances right at you, caught you, in daze of how she presented Kazuha for you. Eyes looked into your length. Her raven hair falls on the edge of the bed. Head tilted back. Most importantly her neck stretched bare, flaunted, offered, You could see its pulses, her gulps, the heaves of her breath.
Perhaps Sakura reads you like a book or maybe, simply she wanted the same. She whispers to Kazuha, "Stay just like this, my sweet. Keep your pretty little throat stretched out and ready for his big, thick cock. I want to see those cute gulps and swallows as he fucks your face."
You hear Kazuha whimpering, Sakura’s words made her visibly hitched. You started to feel the warmth of her breaths from her visible heaves of her chest, you loomed closer to her, your erection bobbing inches from her face.
It's an erotic sight you couldn't help but admire, the bareness of Kazuha's throat. You couldn't help but reach for yourself, a few strokes, admiring it all. The way her pulse jumped and danced, it was begging, it needed to be stretched, wrapping your cock. Unable to wait any longer, you sunk a bit lower. Now the tip of your cock brushing against Kazuha's parted lips.
"Yes, just like that," Sakura encouraged, watching intently as You notched your cock against Kazuha's mouth. "Fuck her throat, baby. Show her what that hot little mouth is good for."
With a grunt, You thrust forward, sinking your cock past Kazuha's lips and into the tight, wet heat of her throat. Kazuha gagged and choked around your invading cock, her throat by instinct, clenching and squeezing your shaft as you pushed deeper. You groaned at the exquisite sensation, the velvet vice of Kazuha's air way massaging your sensitive flesh.
In the haze, you caught a glance of Sakura, eyes widened with lust as she watched her friend's neck bulge obscenely with the outline of your cock clearly visible as it plunged in and out of Kazuha’s stretched throat. She relished every gulp and swallow, and could hear the lewd noise of choking and slurping filling the room.
"Oh fuck yes," Sakura moaned, one hand dipping between her thighs to rub at her aching clit, her lower underwear gone, the black lace lost in the haze. "Pound that slutty little throat, babe! Make her choke on your big cock!"
You oblige, not that you would say no either way. Ruthlessly you continue to face-fuck Kazhua, your balls would slap her face with every deep trust, her hands hand manage to find yours, clasping light, assurance that this much she could and would handle.
Without warning, Sakura swung herself around, her bare ass now faced you, her head dropping low on the opposite, a beat later and you felt what she was doing through Kazuha, another wet rhythm added to the mix.
You knew your assignment without being told, you let go of Kazuha’s hand which it immediately latched into Sakura’s thighs, gripped hard, pressed on the plump. Your hands find their way to Sakura’s body too, you hold her behind, a knead and a slap, before your fingers move to her folds to serve her heat.
Debauchery was the sound of the room, that is all it needs to be said. Three of you lulled into pleasure. Kazuha lies on her back as her throat gets violated, while her pussy gets ravaged by her best friend. Sakura the said best friend lays on top of her, tongue and fingers restless against Kazuha’s cunt, hips propped up over, as it quivers as deep inside her curled the fingers of her boyfriend. And you, stuck between Sakura and Kazuha. There were no lines blurred, deliberately, they were erased.
“Don’t—Yes, just like that!” Skura gasped, as you add another digit to her cunt, her voice ragged with arousal as she ground her dripping cunt harder against Kazuha’s chest. “Fuck her sluttty little throat raw! I want to feel her choking on your cock as i cum all over her!”
You double your efforts, you pistoned into Kazuha’s convulsing throat. You could feel her gagging and sputtering around your plundering cock, could see the desperate bulge of her neck as it struggled to accommodate your size.
The sight of Sakura shamelessly rolling her hips only spurred you on, urging you to fuck her cunt deeper, harder until you reach that explosive end.
With a growl of completion, You slammed into Kazuha one last time, burying yourself to the hilt in her spasming throat. Your cock jerked and throbbed as you empty your balls—that for now rest in Kazuha’s face—painting her insides with thick ropes if your cum. At the same time, Sakura let out a piercing Scream, her pussy clenching and fluttering around your fingers as she came undone.
"Oh fuck, yes! I'm cumming!" Sakura wailed, her juices gushing out to soak Kazuha underneath and drip down trickling to Kazuha's low head. Her body shuddered and quaked, consumed by the force of her orgasm as she tried to keep her balance steady.
Kazuha could only gurgle and choke, drowning in the deluge of cum that flooded her throat and her own orgasm that flooded her senses. You watch, seeing her throat as she swallows convulsively, trying to gulp down every drop of your load even as even as her own peak stole every strength from her body.
Finally, with a last shuddering gasp, Sakura threw herself off, away from Kazuha who was limp below. Slowly, you also withdrew your softening cock from Kazuha’s spent throat, a trickle of cum and saliva connecting the tip to her swollen, purpled lips.
“Holy fuck,” a moment of clarity for you, as your ride with pleasure slows down. You started taking in the sight of the debauched scene, Sakura on the side of the bed, deep in breath, as she managed to give you back an exhausted yet satisfied smile. Kazuha—well, her, face glazed with sweat and most likely Sakura’s juices, neck marked with red—imprints of how you handled her, and a fucked-our, dazed expression on her beautiful features.
“Babe,” Sakura breaks your awe of the aftermath, pulling your attention back to her. “We are far from done,” She still sports that grin on her face. Already, she had her legs open presented to you, fingers already on her slick folds, impatient. So was your cock, already twitching from the sight.
You glance back at Kazuha—she’s spent, hair clinging to her flushed face. “Hey… you okay?” you ask softly, voice still uneven from your own breathlessness. She blinks up at you, lips parted, but all that comes out is a faint hum—half-dazed, half-lost.
“That was… a lot,” you murmur, running a hand through your mussed hair, unsure if you’re trying to reassure her or yourself. The air still feels heavy, your head light from what just happened.
When you turn back to Sakura, her grin has faded away, she’s aware. Her eyes linger on you, she could read your every thought. Then she glances at Kazuha—spent, chest rising softly—and lets out a quiet sigh that almost sounds like a purr.
“She needs a moment,” Sakura murmurs, voice smooth, teasing. Her gaze slides back to you, lips curving faintly. “So let her rest... and you, hurry up. You have yet to fuck me.”
The haze of lust quickly crept and returned. It blurred the memory and the hours that passed, You, Sakura, and Kazuha who was just as eager to continue after she had settled her breath. Partners, middle and positions, switched throughout the night, never tiring. The already spent night stretched on, only fades when the persistent lust naked way for exhaustion for the three of you.
Morning comes. You walk in from the kitchen, still bare—no eyes but yours are open yet anyway. You return to the room holding a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses, a thoughtful preparation for when the girls wake—they’ll need it especially after last night. Setting them down on the nightstand, you pause for a moment, taking in the sight of them tangled in the sheets, the soft rhythm of their breathing, its light on the room.
Sakura lies sprawled on her back, limbs spread in her usual way—claiming most of the bed as her own. Sakura’s ample breast rose and fell with each steady breath. Features on her face, especially her smile, bright
Kazuha, on the other hand, looks peaceful in sleep, tucked to the side and seemingly content with the small space left to her by the unconscious Sakura. Her face is relaxed and serene; a faint sheen of moisture clings to her skin, a soft blush still coloring her cheeks—a quiet reminder of the night before.
While Sakura greedily hogs the space, Kazuha, in contrast, has curled herself up in all the blankets. Though one of her legs escaped the covers, a slender thigh hitched across, giving you a tantalizing peek at her most intimate area.
You’re still exhausted from last night yourself. With a sigh, you slip back beside Sakura. She senses you instantly, shifting closer until her warmth presses against your chest. Her eyes flutter open just enough to meet yours, a lazy smile spreading across her face.
“Good morning,” she murmurs, voice soft and hazy. Her fingers find your cheek, tracing slow, idle lines.
“Good morning,” you return, leaning in to brush a kiss to her forehead. “You okay?”
“I might be sore,” she hums, lips curling faintly. “But I don’t want to move yet to find out.”
You chuckle under your breath, about to tease her further when a third presence stirs beside you.
Kazuha shifts in her sleep, her arm sliding across the sheets until it finds Sakura’s waist, tugging her closer with a faint sigh.
Sakura startles for a moment, then laughs—light, unbothered. “Oh, right…”
You raise a brow. “Oh, right?”
Her eyes flick toward you, feigning innocence. “What?”
“Nothing, just—” You stop mid-sentence as Kazuha slowly pushes herself upright behind Sakura, the blanket clutched to her chest. Her expression wavers—half shy, half unsure if she should greet you or hide.
You nod toward the glass on her side of the nightstand. “Water?”
She gives a tiny nod, relief flashing in her eyes as she takes it and drinks greedily.
“Just?” Sakura prompts, her tone lilting, amused—unwilling to let you off that easily. And now even Kazuha is staring at you.
“I don’t know,” you start, exhaling. “I’m just thinking. Once, sure, we can let it go. But twice? We should at least sit on this and talk, surely.”
Kazuha moves slowly, setting her glass back on the nightstand as if careful not to make any sudden mistake.
“Why?” Sakura tilts her head, studying you. “Don’t you like it?”
“I don’t mean it like that, you know that.”
“Then the three of us will be together,” Sakura says smoothly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Easy.”
“Easy?” you echo with skepticism.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” she counters. “We’re already this close. The only thing that changes is that we’ll be fucking. You like it, I like it, and I’m sure Kazuha likes it too, right?”
Kazuha startles—she’s been quiet, acts like an observer until her name gets called.
“Ye—yeah,” she stammers softly, “if we can…”
“Any more worries?” Sakura asks, almost smug now.
“There is one more, actually.”
Both girls blink, surprised. They weren’t expecting that.
“How about next time,” tone playful but this is you sincere, “we try being sober when we start? Doesn’t really give me much confidence in this relationship if the only reason we’ve done it is because of alcohol.”
Sakura’s laugh breaks first—light and genuine—and Kazuha follows, relief spilling out of her in a shy, guilty chuckle.
“Well,” Sakura grins, leaning back against the pillows, “we are sober now.”
“And starving,” you point out. “Let’s do that first, okay?”
Kazuha nods quickly, smiling, while Sakura just smirks.
You sigh—half exasperated, half fond: “It’s always a party with you two.”