I slid my hands down her shoulders, feeling the knots of tension accumulated over years of grief and hardship.
"You carry too much weight, Tsunami-san," I whispered, my thumbs digging into the sweet spot at the base of her neck.
"Nngh..." Tsunami let out a sound that was half-groan, half-whimper. Her head rolled back, resting against my chest. "That... that feels... too good..."
"It's okay to feel good," I murmured, leaning closer so my breath tickled her ear. "You spend all your time taking care of your father, your son... who takes care of you?"
Her breath hitched. The question pierced her armor.
"I... I don't..."
"Shhh."
My hands moved lower. They left her shoulders and traced the line of her spine, sending shivers through her frame. I felt her body heat rising.
[Passive Skill: Pheromone Release] [Target Status: Aroused (High). Resistance: 20%... 10%... ]
"You're trembling," I noted softly.
"I... it's been so long," Tsunami whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. "Since Kaiza... I haven't..."
"You are a woman, Tsunami," I said, my hands sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against me. "You are alive. And living things need water. They need to bloom."
I reached for the knot of her apron behind her back.
Tug.
The fabric loosened. The apron slid down her body, pooling on the floor.
She didn't stop me. She leaned into it.
I spun her around. Her face was flushed a deep crimson, her eyes misty and unfocused. She looked at me—not as a boy, not as a guest—but as a man.
"Kenji-kun..." she gasped as my hands found the hem of her simple shirt.
"Let me take care of you," I commanded softly.
I pulled her shirt up and over her head, discarding it onto the pile with the apron.
Tsunami stood there in a modest, slightly worn beige bra and a long skirt. Her face was burning, her eyes unable to meet mine, but she didn't cover herself. She was trembling—not from fear, but from a decade of emotional starvation.
"Beautiful," I stated, my voice dropping an octave. "The System wasn't lying. S-Rank treasure."
"K-Kenji-kun, I..." she stammered, looking down at me.
Being shorter had its perks. My face was perfectly level with her chest. I didn't hesitate. I reached out and unclasped the front hook of her bra. It popped open, and her heavy, pale breasts spilled out, soft and swaying slightly with her rapid breathing.
"Oh!" she gasped, trying to bring her hands up to cover herself.
I caught her wrists. "No hiding. Not from the hero."
I buried my face in her cleavage, inhaling the scent of soap, ocean air, and aroused woman. I licked a stripe up her left breast, swirling my tongue around the dark, stiffening nipple before biting down gently.
"Ah! Kaiz—nghh!" She cut herself off, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
"That's it," I mumbled against her skin. "Let it rain."
I pulled back, grinning shamelessly. "But the floor is too hard for a lady like you. And I'm a little short for this angle."
I grabbed her by the hips. With a surge of Chakra-Enhanced Strength, I lifted her effortlessly off the floor.
"Kenji!" she squeaked.
I marched her three steps to the sturdy wooden kitchen counter and sat her down on the edge. Now, she was elevated, her legs dangling, her center perfectly aligned with my face. The height difference was neutralized; I was staring right at the prize.
"Spread them," I commanded, stepping between her knees.
Tsunami bit her lip, her face a mask of conflict and lust, but her legs drifted apart obediently. I bunched her skirt up to her waist, revealing plain white cotton panties that were already sporting a dark, damp patch in the center.
[Observation: Target is flooding. The drought is ending.]
"Look at that," I teased, running a finger over the wet cotton. "You're soaking through. Were you thinking about this while you were washing dishes? While I was at the door?"
"P-please..." she whimpered, leaning back on her hands, her chest heaving. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"Nothing is wrong. You just need maintenance."
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and ripped them down. They snagged on her ankles, but I didn't care.
The sight was glorious. A mature, neglected pussy, glistening with slick nectar, waiting to be claimed. The smell of her arousal hit me—heavy, musky, and undeniable.
"Itadakimasu," I whispered.
I grabbed her thick thighs, spread them wider, and buried my face between her legs.
"KYAA!" Tsunami screamed, her back arching off the counter. "Kenji! Not there! It's—oh god!"
My tongue worked like a machine, lapping at her clit with a rhythm that made her toes curl. I wasn't being gentle. I was slurping, sucking, and devouring her like a man who hadn't eaten in weeks. She tasted sweet and salty, a flavor of pure, pent-up need.
Her hands found my head, pushing and pulling, unsure whether to shove me away or grind my face harder against her slit.
"Yes... yes... oh, it's been so long!" she wailed, her head thrashing back, knocking over a spice jar on the counter. Clatter.
I didn't stop. I hooked two fingers inside her, curling them upward towards her G-spot while my tongue flicked her swollen button. She clamped her thighs around my head, trapping me, drowning me in her fluids.
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" she shrieked.
Her hips bucked wildly, slamming against my face as she climaxed, her inner walls clamping down on my fingers. She shuddered violently, a long, high-pitched moan escaping her throat that echoed through the empty house.
I pulled back, wiping my chin. My face was glazed with her juices.
"That was just the appetizer, Tsunami-san," I grinned, looking up at her dazed, flushed face. "Now for the main course."
I unbuttoned my pants, freeing my hardening cock. It sprang out, twitching, fully erect.
Tsunami's eyes widened as she looked down. "Kenji... that's... too big for a boy..."
"Good thing I'm a man where it counts," I laughed.
I grabbed her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the counter. I lined the tip up with her soaking wet entrance.
"Wrap your legs around me," I ordered.
She did, her heels locking behind my back. I pushed forward, the head breaking past her lips, sliding into the heat.
"Hnggg!" she groaned, throwing her head back. "So full...!"
I drove it in to the hilt in one smooth motion. She was tight, incredibly tight for a woman who had birthed a child, probably because it had been years since anything had stretched her out.
"Oh, fuck," I hissed, the sensation of her hot velvet walls hugging me almost making me lose it right there. "You feel amazing, Tsunami."
I began to move. Pumping into her, the slapping sound of our skin meeting filling the kitchen. Slap. Slap. Slap.
"Kenji... Kenji...!" she moaned, her fingernails digging into my shoulders. "It's so deep! You're hitting it!"
"Who's fixing you?" I grunted, grabbing her heavy breasts, kneading them roughly as I thrust. "Who's taking care of the lonely widow?"
"You are! You are!" she cried out.
I picked up the pace, my hips snapping forward with brutal efficiency. The kitchen counter creaked under our combined weight and force. I looked down at her—her face was a mess of pleasure, sweat, and tears. The dutiful daughter was gone; this was just a woman needing to be fucked.
"I want you on the table," I growled.
I didn't pull out. I kept my cock buried deep inside her, hooked my arms under her knees and back, and lifted her again.
"Ah! Don't drop me!" she gasped, clinging to my neck.
"Never."
I walked the few steps to the dining table, her pussy gripping me tight with every step, bouncing on my dick. I slammed her down onto the wooden table, sweeping the fruit bowl onto the floor with a crash. Apples rolled everywhere.
I pinned her legs back against her chest, opening her up completely.
"Look at you," I sneered playfully. "On the dinner table. What would Tazuna say? What would Inari say if he saw his mom getting plowed by a ninja?"
"Stop! Don't talk... just fuck me!" she begged, her eyes rolling back.
[System Alert: Target inhibitions reached 0%.]
"As you wish, MILF."
I hammered into her. Fast. Hard. Unrelenting. The table legs scraped against the floor with the rhythm. She was screaming now, incoherent words, just pure vocalization of pleasure.
"Rain!" I shouted, feeling the pressure build in my balls. "Here comes the rain!"
"Fill me! Please, fill me up!"
I grabbed her hip with one hand and her breast with the other, driving into her one last time, burying myself as deep as physically possible.
"HRRRGH!"
I erupted inside her. Hot jet after hot jet of cum shot into her womb, coating her walls, flooding the drought-stricken land.
Tsunami stiffened, her body convulsing around me in a second orgasm, milking every last drop out of me. We stayed like that for a minute, panting, the only sound the ragged breathing and the ticking of the wall clock.
I slowly pulled out. A mix of white cum and clear juices dripped from her gaping hole, pooling on the dining table.
[Mission Complete: The Lonely Widow] [Rating: S-Rank]
[Reward: +5000 Points]
[Bonus Title: 'Home Wrecker' (Wait, there's no home to wreck?)]
[Bonus Skill: 'Silent Tread' (Useful for sneaking out of bedrooms).]
[Item Acquired: The Transparency Spray (Origin: Doraemon World).]
I zipped up my pants, fixing my belt. Tsunami lay there on the table, limbs splayed, eyes glazed, looking thoroughly wrecked.
"Well," I said, patting her cheek shamelessly. "I think the house is secure now. I should probably get back to training before Kakashi-sensei notices I'm gone."
Tsunami just twitched, a goofy smile plastered on her face.
"Y-yes... Kenji-kun..." she whispered faintly.
"See you at dinner, Tsunami-san. Try not to slip on the floor."
I walked out the door, whistling. Being a hero was hard work, but someone had to do it.