INO
It was well into the night when Ino walked into her home on unsteady legs, dragging her travel pack on the floor behind her.
"Honey is that you," Ino hears her mother call from the other room. Ino absentmindedly deduced her mother was in the kitchen, likely putting away any leftover food. At the sweet sound of her mother's voice, Ino wants to cry. A great pang of unholy contamination is crammed into her chest as her vision fills with fat globs of tears that don't shed. Unable to trust her voice not to share her inconceivably horrid ordeal, Ino clamps a desperate hand over her mouth, shaking the globules of tears to rush down her cheeks and hand, as she just hums, "Mm-hmm!"
To Ino, it felt like the entire story of her raw grief and debauchery could easily be detected in her tone alone. Despite how utterly filthy she feels, she wants to run to her pure mother for her solid protection and be told that everything was going to be alright. But she also wants to hide with just as much desire—to never let her mother know exactly how unclean her daughter has become. Her mother easily responds, "okay. Your father and I are going to sleep. If you take a shower, keep it down. There's food in the fridge if you're hungry."
Ino hears faint feet walk away, then silence. Crunching her appealing face in misery, the painful quiet of her home only aids the loud memories of her day, continually flooding her mind's eye and shaming her tears to fall faster down her semen-stained cheeks, dirty fingers, and button chin. She can already tell from the heat drowning her eyes, that she won't stop crying anytime soon.
Ino slowly makes her way to her bathroom, eager to wash off the crusty lust-covered insanity of the day. No matter how many hours it takes, she doesn't plan on leaving until the job is thoroughly done. Though deep down she knows no amount of water or anti-bacterial body wash will ever erase what's been done to her once innocent temple, it won't stop her from trying. With never-ending memories of her acting like a corner whore as her fuel, how could she not scrub and scrub until she bleeds?
In the bathroom and turned away from the mirror, Ino was struck with indecision. After everything she and Naruto did—how completely they satisfied their every animalistic desire—she's determined to decontaminate every millimeter of her well-used body, however, where to begin? Everywhere is her goal because he sucked, licked, or coated white every inch of her with such musky vigor, scrubbing one area of her anatomy meant not disinfecting another, and she just wanted it all off. Ino wants to feel new again—pure and innocent—but she isn't anymore and she never will be again; birthing a fresh batch of tears.
It was taking every bit of her clan's mental training to keep from breaking down. A daunting task when she simply considers the magnitude of losing her virginity at such a young age. It's an impossible task when she further considers how she also lost her anal cherry to the same idiot. In fact, any which way she's heard a woman can pleasure a man, Ino did it with Naruto… of all people.
'Oh Kami, I sucked him off!' Her mind yells, effortlessly reliving the greedy blowjob she gave him both in her mind and on the lingering sensation of her swollen lips. Giving Naruto her first kiss would've been bad enough but kissing, and licking, and sucking his fluid covered cock just didn't make any sense to her. The buzzing of her cock-experienced lips tells the story of how she returned the favor—happily and willingly—stunning her perpetually, asking herself, 'how? How could I have done that? With him? I'm not that girl. I'm not…'
Worse than her vivid recollections, her body is still humming with residual delight at the physical memory of him against her—of him in her. Ino's mind could not think of anything else. 'He fucked me. He fucked me like a dog… and I loved it… who am I?' Her mind asks, and her tears answer, 'you're sad.'
Tears mix with the water as she simply decides to start. She would have to wash everything his hands, mouth, and dick invaded, rubbed, sucked and pinched, thoroughly and repeatedly. She can easily feel the most tender parts of her body, and would deal with them, but the most sensitive issue is the copious buildup of sappy fluid still inside of her. He not only licked, sucked, and fucked her pussy, he erupted—deliciously she hates to admit—several large loads inside of her.
For the trek back she had to use her filthy bindings to keep the pool of man milk from constantly leaking down her legs. If anyone saw her walking with trails of semen running down her thighs, Ino wouldn't survive the shame. It made walking back extra challenging as she felt the shifting weight of semen if she swayed too much. Sadly it was nearly impossible not to as her legs were terribly weak, and the natural grace of her walk already adds a racy sway to her eye-catching hips—a favorite feature of hers that now has finger bruising from his strong grip.
Gripping the banister, she tries to stop thinking about all the vivacious activity that involved her nether region, already feeling herself growing warmer. "Stop it Ino," she warns herself, her tone almost pleading, but she can't; all the while wondering how her body can still feel so responsive after nearly eight hours of full-on intercourse, oral stimulation, anal play, or massaging exploration.
When she feels the heat of her tender folds grow slick with wanton anticipation, she rushes to the shower, turns the cold tap to full blast and stands under the shower head. The shock of its icy pain cascades through her system, doing what she doesn't seem capable of doing on her own; cooling down. The day started with so much hope and promise. Ino had not expected it to end with her crying under the loud shower head, wailing so loud she's certain her parents or at least her mother would rush in and check on her. No one does and there she stays.
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