Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and stand to gain no profit from this fic.

Summary: There's always been something about Kushina's milk and cookies. Konohamaru can't get over what his best friend's mom has to offer. Konohamaru x Kushina, Lemon.

Milk & Cookies

j.j. scriptease

A light bulb swung low over the dark room, crackling as it flickered the final moments of its life. The swaying glimmers were the only source of light within the quiet walls. Naruto had assigned himself the biggest chair at the table. The spotlight swivelled on and off his grim face, an eerie game of peek-a-boo between light and shadows. Only the creaking pendulum above interrupted the chain of silence. He was ready. Ready to sacrifice his reputation, ready to die for the cause. He'd rounded up his troops and if this was going to be the last order he ever gave, he needed to make sure the impact lasted a life time. Long, hard days had gone into preparing the right words, and finally, he was ready to psych his boys up for the mission.

"Gentlemen, I –"

The basement door creaked ajar and his mother flipped on the lights, killing the mood instantly. "Gosh, why is it so dark down here?"

"Mom!" Naruto whined. "We're trying to have a serious meeting here."

"Of course, honey. Of course." She descended the staircase, squeaking with every step, each a kick to his teeth. "I just thought you and your friends might want something to snack on. Did you even offer them anything to drink?"

"No, Mom. They don't want anything to drink!"

"Actually," said Rock Lee, ever the goofball. "I wouldn't mind having something, Mrs Uzumaki."

Naruto glared at him. Traitor. Why did he have to go and encourage her? At this rate, she'd never take the 'do not disturb – super secret war strategies in progress' sign seriously.

"You see that, Naruto?" asked his mother. "A little hospitality goes a long way. Learn to treat your friends well if you intend to keep them for a long time." She patted him on the head, annoyingly. "Now boys, I hope you're all in the mood for some milk and cookies!"

"HELL YEAH!" Rock Lee pumped his fist, tears of passion pouring down his face.

Naruto facepalmed. "Geez. How old are you, five?"

Kushina set down a tray of steaming, chocolate chip cookies, fresh out of the oven. Sweet wafts of warmth and love lifted the dingy chamber. Naruto turned his nose up at the offer, even as his nostrils twitched, betraying his defiance. His mother set six glasses around the table and poured milk.

Rock Lee's beam stretched from here to heaven. "Thank you, Mrs Uzumaki!"

"For the last time, Lee, I said it's okay to call me Kushina."

"Yes, Mrs Uzumaki!"

She sighed with a hopeless smile.

Konohamaru was the youngest at the table; if anyone was going to get excited about milk and cookies, it should've been him. And was he ever! Excitement only scratched the surface of his sentiments. His delight had less to do with milk and cookies, and everything to do with the courier.

Lately he'd caught Mrs Uzumaki giving him the eye – at least that's what his budding, optimistic teenage brain told him it was. Seriously though, she smiled at him, like a lot. Or maybe he noticed her smile a lot. There was a big difference. But in either case, her smile had a wicked way of grabbing him by the balls and making him whimper like a little girl, or like himself not so long ago, before his voice broke. She looked nothing like a woman in her forties, or thirties, or however old she was, although guessing twenties would be pushing it given Naruto's age. Auburn hair framed a blemish-free face, fierce in longevity and beauty, garnished with soft eyes. He waited with baited breath for that heavenly moment when Mrs Uzumaki leaned over to pour his milk.

The top of her blouse was left undone, gifting him the heart-racing sight of her cleavage. In days gone past he would've chalked up her behaviour to nonchalance. Now he had to wonder if it was deliberate. Her divorce had hit her hard years ago, and although she put on a brave face every morning, something must've been broken inside her. It could've been his imagination but sometimes he saw loneliness between the cracks of her smile. Not that her smile was what caught his attention while she poured. With eyes glued to her chest, his throat dried up, the sounds of gushing milk tightening his pants. Sadness struck him once his glass was filled. His devious gaze continued to stalk her up the staircase, and before she disappeared to the upper floor, he could've sworn she swung a glance at him. Moping in her absence, he stared at his glass of milk, imagining a whole bathtub full of it, the red-haired goddess submerged in its creamy depths, her nude thighs and arms breaking the surface as streams sailed down her skin, scattered cookies floating about, covering her womanly bits.

'Konohamaru…' she purred, trapping him with that cunning smile, 'I hope you're in the mood for some milk and cookies…'

Naruto hammered the boy's dome with a fist. The pink-faced kid returned to reality in a hurry. "Hello! Have you forgotten why you're here? What the hell's got you so distracted anyway?"

"Uh, sorry, I uh, uh." Konohamaru babbled like an incoherent idiot.

Naruto clobbered him again. "Speak up!"

Dazed, the boy's head rolled around his shoulders. "Duuuh-duuuh-duuu-uuuh..."

Naruto was ready to strike again when Shino grabbed his wrist. "I don't think you hitting him is making it any better."

"He's right," said Rock Lee. "Let me try." All of a sudden, he leapt across the table and delivered a flying kick to Konohamaru, sending the boy and his chair tumbling across the floor until he smashed the wall. Rock Lee picked him up by the collar, oblivious to his swirling eyes. "There. Try to ask him now."

Naruto and Shino face-faulted. And that's why Rock Lee should have a lifetime ban on sugar.

"I don't know why I hang around you simpletons," said Sai, without breaking eye contact from his drawing.

"Hey, don't act like you're any better than us," said Naruto.

"Technically I am. Let me guess, you've called this meeting because you've devised some brilliant way to get us 'hooked up' with girls." Naruto grumbled with no reply. "I, on the other hand, associate with members of the opposite sex on a daily basis. Making me better than whatever it is you're trying to be."

"Are you kidding me?" Naruto scoffed. "They only let you hang out with them because they think you're a lesbian."

"That's . . . beside the point," said Sai. "Still closer to pussy than your little prick will ever be." Naruto grabbed his shirt threateningly, but the pale boy showed no emotion, let alone trepidation. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Naruto let him go with a huff. "It's not that little," was his final retort.

"I'm sure," said Sai, nonchalantly. "Well, I've got things to do. See you all in class." He grabbed a cookie on his way out.

"Whatever." Naruto waved him off. "Who needs him?"

"You're the one that invited him," said Shino.

Naruto chirped out the side of his mouth, "I'm starting to regret inviting you."

Neji stood up without warning. "I'm out."

"What? Why?" Naruto panicked. "You haven't even heard the plan yet!"

"You're right." Neji sat back down. "Sorry. What's the plan?"

The blond rubbed his palms together. "First, we're going to –"

"I'm out."

". . . sneak into a strip club and . . ." Naruto finished weakly as the boy departed.

"WHOOOA!" Rock Lee suddenly jumped up, eyes bulging at his wristwatch. "Training with Guy Sensei started eight seconds ago! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late! Guy Sensei forgive me!" He flew up the staircase, schoolbag waving in tow.

Naruto drooped in his seat, depressed. To make matters worse, just one cookie was left untouched. As he reached for his only opportunity to salvage this disastrous briefing, Shino grabbed it and tossed it in his mouth.

"Delicious," he said. "Why? Because your mother has a lot of experience baking."

Naruto groaned. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Making bug sandwiches or something?"

"Yes."

Naruto didn't even want to ask him to elaborate. Thankfully, he upped and left without doing so. And just like that, they were down to two.

"Let me guess," he said, turning to Konohamaru. "You've gotta run because you've got some urgent homework to do?"

"Nope." Unfortunately, thought Konohamaru, dreading what mess Naruto would land him in next. They had a unique bond amongst their friends. At one point Konohamaru looked up to him like a hero. As he got to know him better though, he realised the blond liked to make himself appear smarter than he actually was. Still, he was a ticket to hanging out with the older kids, and the closest thing Konohamaru had to calling a best friend. Putting up with each other's crap was what best friends did. With a heavy sigh, he made himself comfortable in his seat. "So, what's the plan?"

Naruto perked up.

. . .

Midnight loomed.

Konohamaru might not have been a full-fledged shinobi just yet but he liked to think he'd mastered the basics of stealth. Sneaking into a snoozing home should've been a cake walk. He staked out an upstairs window, rubbing his hands together before he made his move. The climbing part was easy. Halfway into the bedroom though, his foot caught on the window sill and he tumbled inside, a clumsy thud followed by a groan. A pair of blue sandals flanked his bruised face as an upside-down Naruto frowned at him.

"What are you trying to do?" Naruto held him against the wall and berated him in harsh whispers. "Your stupid stunt might've given us away."

They pressed their ears against the bedroom door, listening for any warning signs across the hall – footsteps, doors opening, kunai flying, an angry woman screaming murder, anything normal in the Uzumaki household. Minutes passed without a peep. Konohamaru had been around often enough to gauge the short distance between Naruto's room and his mother's. If she'd heard something, they would've known by now; Kushina wasn't exactly the type to shy away from intruders. It struck him odd that the ruckus had escaped the attention of a kunoichi with her renowned aptitude. He'd heard stories of shinobi rising from slumber at the sound of a leaf falling, just in time to rescue themselves from a murderous ambush. Granted, Kushina was a mother now, and well out of practice. Konohamaru put aside his reservations and appreciated getting away with one. Their heartbeats slowed to a regular pace.

"The plan's still on," he said with a hearty breath.

"No thanks to you," hissed Naruto. He fetched what looked like an oversized trench coat from under the bed. Then a boater, a pair of sunglasses and a fake moustache. "What do you think?"

Honestly? Konohamaru thought it was ridiculous. "Uh, pretty good. Think it will work?"

Naruto looked offended by his doubt. "Trust me."

It took no less than thirty minutes to assemble the get-up. Konohamaru sat on Naruto's shoulders and the buttoned-up coat created the illusion of one, tall, lanky, awkward being. The hat topped the disguise and the moustache was supposed to add years to his visage but Konohamaru wasn't convinced by his reflection. Originally, Naruto, being the older boy, was meant to be on top. However, his weight proved to be a hindrance and the whole thing turned into a failed balancing act. At least this way they didn't collapse every five seconds. Seeing through the coat proved more difficult than anticipated. Naruto had zero visibility without poking his head out of the coat like an unborn demon child. They couldn't have that. He was forced to rely on Konohamaru's guidance, who led him into a few walls for laughs before a bite on his shin ended the game.

It was nearing midnight when they bumbled down Konoha's streets. Not many were out and about to witness their clumsy choreography, and those that did assumed nothing more than a man who had one too many bottles of sake, half of them wobbly drunks themselves. Konohamaru and Naruto waddled, bumped and stumbled their way to the Icha Icha Club. Many strip joints lined the district they'd snuck into but Naruto singled out this one for two reasons. Because Jiraiya owned it and because Jiraiya never let him step foot inside. On the surface it appeared reasonable for him to prohibit underage patrons from entering his establishment; what made it odd were Jiraiya's never-ending attempts to corrupt Naruto's innocence, inviting him along to every excursion from hot springs to saucy brothels, and yet when it came to his own strip club, he decided to be a responsible grown-up about it. It didn't add up and Naruto wanted to find why.

Konohamaru had to hand it to Naruto; the plan worked, and worked well. Somehow they managed to score front row seats for the next performance without anyone seeing through the terrible get-up. Everyone was either too drunk or too preoccupied with their own horniness to pay them any mind. The only problem was Naruto would miss the show stuffed inside the coat's entrails. They agreed to take a piss break at the first intermission and swap positions.

Without further ado, Jiraiya stepped on stage, feather in his cap, champagne swirling in his grasp. His eyes swept through the audience and Konohamaru looked down before they landed on his. He'd come too far to take that risk. Thankfully his coy reaction escaped Jiraiya's interest, who went on to introduce his next dancer to an impatient crowd, demanding he shut up and let the girl come out already. Konohamaru felt sorry for the perv. Can't even get respect in his own business. The old pervert stepped aside to an uproar of cheers. When the music kicked in, Konohamaru knew it was safe to look up again.

What he saw blew his eyes up tenfold.

Long legs. Long, long, slender legs. Stilettos heightened the things of beauty, accentuating strong calves, clicking and clacking as she strutted on stage to a chorus of whistles. The dancer's haughty limbs were on full display, toned with light muscle and sculpted to perfection. A micro skirt covered the small gap between her belly button and pelvis, never making it to her rump. She wore a tiny thong hiding nothing more than it needed to and a bra showcasing commendable cleavage. Her body curved in all the right places, bent in all the right ways, bounced, jiggled and swayed for days. The only thing that stood out more than her body was her hair. Scarlet red, brighter than wisps of flame. It couldn't be hers, not naturally. Konohamaru knew for a fact. The wig and extensive make-up might've fooled others but he'd fantasised about Naruto's Mom long enough to spot her anywhere.

Kushina was a far cry from the modest housewife toiling away in the kitchen whenever he came over. So many times he longed to glimpse beneath the apron, and so many times he resorted to his imagination, often in the bowels of his bedroom with a hand in his pyjamas. But this . . . this, he feared, spoiled him for life. The shock of seeing his dream woman two articles away from utter nudity took several minutes to subside, and even then, he had to pinch himself black and blue.

No one would guess she'd birthed a child in her life. Her movements showed the grace of a woman half her age. After wetting their appetites with some slow, meticulous teasing, she grabbed the pole, and with one swing, rode the momentum through several revolutions, a multitude of flashing colour lighting up her skin as she twirled back down to earth, limbs spread in a lithe yet erotic pose. The feat drew loud cheers and whistles. Kunoichi mastered many physical talents from their training days but he never thought he'd see them put to use in this way. Her nimbleness and flexibility left many a mouth agape, including his own. Whether it was wrapping her legs around the pole during a handstand or pulling off upside-down splits metres off the ground, the crowd never died down for a minute. As she performed increasingly impressive acrobatics, bank notes flooded the stage, wads after wads thrown at a time. Konohamaru felt bad for showing up empty-handed. If only he'd known. He hoped ogling counted as a form of support.

Kushina grabbed the pole and swung her hips to reveal her backside. Only a minute triangle appeared at the ridge of her crack, the rest of the thong invisible between her plump cheeks. She dropped her ass to the ground and brought it up again, shaking it to the beat. Many spectators showed their appreciation through lurid, nonsensical adlibs, while others were inspired to get up and wedge bills between her cheeks, not that they stayed there long with her ass quaking and twerking all over the place. Konohamaru was tempted to rise and cop a feel, wondering how all of them managed to restrain themselves being so close. He ascertained the 'no touching' rule must've been a stringent one in here; it had to be, when even the drunkest patron was sober enough not to dare. The big, beefy shinobi on guard emerged in his peripheral vision. It all made sense now.

"God, what I wouldn't do to lay her out on that stage right now," a voice muttered behind Konohamaru. "I'd be in that for days. Telling ya, you'd need a crane to get me out."

Another voice behind his left shoulder laughed. "Keep dreaming, tiger. Apparently she's not for sale."

"Please. Everybody's for sale at the right price."

"Heh, loaded mate of mine told me he offered her a million to go back to his place. Know what she said? Flat out no. Said he'd give her the same for a blowjob. Flat out no. Said he'd give her the same for a private show. Just stripping, no touching. She told him to go fuck himself. Know what he did?"

"What?"

"Went and fucked himself, thinking about her the whole time."

Their hideous laughter grated his nerves. Konohamaru had mixed feelings about what he heard. Some shmuck just went on about wanting to bang his best friend's mom. On one hand, he wanted to punch him in the face. On the other hand, he couldn't blame the bastard, especially when the same thoughts preoccupied him on a daily basis. Konohamaru wasn't surprised to hear her motive didn't involve money. It led credence to his loneliness theory. All she had was Naruto, who was annoying at the best of times, and a painful remainder of her failed marriage at the worst. She wanted to move on, but clung to the hope of reconciling with her estranged husband. That was why she didn't want to touch any of these men. In case he ever came back. Till then she needed some form of sexual release. Supposedly, having grubby men fawn over her satisfied some kink. No, thought Konohamaru, it wasn't about the men. It was about the attention.

Kushina lured hungry eyes to her breasts, round and ample, bulging out of her cups. She tugged her bra up and down, scant strips covering her nipples as supple flesh jiggled out the sides. The scarlet dancer entertained, mesmerised, ensnared hearts and minds, twisted subservient souls around her little finger, left them dry and wanting. Seduction in her eyes, deviance on her lips, she flirted with the pole in scandalous ways, igniting fantasies as her tits slid down the steel shaft and her tongue caressed it on the way up. She seemed a different woman, a fiend, stowing Naruto's Mom somewhere beneath the wig and above the heels. Konohamaru wondered which was the real her, and in the same instance, decided it didn't matter. Kushina, Naruto's Mom, mistress of the pole, taker of his soul – he'd accept any incarnation.

Rows of men sat level with the elevated stage, all heads turned upwards under the umbrella of her legs, all eyes moving together left and right, wherever she commanded them, servants of lust. Kushina granted a universal wish when she unclipped her bra. She swung the stringy garment in circles, rubbed it slowly, tortuously, between her legs before throwing it into the crowd, sparking a drunken tussle. Konohamaru was more entranced by what the disposal revealed. Beautiful, well-weighted breasts, perky with youth and rich in colour. They looked boisterous and healthy. She lost two customers to nosebleeds before she'd even touched them. Scooping the undersides in each palm, she took turns gently tossing them, alternating between tits, inducing a juggling effect that provoked three more nosebleeds. Konohamaru somehow kept his wits about him, his numbing obsession outweighing the urge to black out in a jet of red. He was glad too, for the main course was just about to be served, a feat he never saw coming and would've never believed if he wasn't there.

Kushina squeezed her breasts and milk spurted from her teats. The audience cheered and rejoiced, dancing in white drizzle as she dotted their clothes and faces. Konohamaru was stunned, speechless, feeling the droplets splash on his brow and cheeks. He never thought it possible. While his reaction kept him dumbfounded, the others looked to soak in glory, opening their traps wide, hoping to catch any droplets. Kushina panned her breasts over the pool of heads and hungry mouths, generous in spreading her produce, showering a dozen with every squeeze. He had to pinch himself again, right after he wiped the milk from his eyes. This had to be a dream.

The ooh's and aah's became too loud for Naruto to ignore. He wriggled in the coat, desperate to know what he was missing. There was no chance Konohamaru was getting up to make the switch now. However, everyone seemed engrossed in the performance, bouncers included, and Konohamaru thought he might get away with unfastening a button for Naruto to peep. Wait till you get a load of this. He reached for coat's abdomen. Your mom's one real – shit!

It only hit him then; they were all perving over Naruto's Mom. No best friend would let their bro be traumatised by the sight. Konohamaru went from unfastening the button to closing the coat tightly. Naruto grunted at his sudden change of mind. The two struggled, oblivious to how absurd it must've looked, a man fighting to the death against his coat buttons. It drew the attention of the last person he was prepared for. Kushina fixed him a sly smirk and climbed down the stage, sauntering his way.

Murmurs of 'lucky sod' were grunted behind him as the scarlet woman saddled his laps, or rather, Naruto's. The blonde ninja stopped fighting once he felt her weight press upon him, realising he'd have to sit still to avoid compromising their identities. Unbeknownst to the stripper, she ground into her son's crotch, awakening a hump that drew a smirk on her lips. Naruto was no wiser to the woes of his bliss. Konohamaru, however, knew better than to let her get too close, not that he could do much pinned down with no escape. She threw her arms over his shoulders, her fragrance strong and damning. He writhed and wriggled, fought temptation, twisted his face left and right, avoiding her attempts to meet his eyes.

"Shy one," she whispered, nuzzling into his neck. "I could tell. That's why I chose you." Naruto's Mom used a silky voice he didn't know she had, one she would've never poured all over him knowingly. The soft touch of her lips drew gasps from his deepest depths. Glares and grimaces surrounded the scene. Although they couldn't act now, Konohamaru had a sneaking suspicion he'd encounter several of the same faces outside, waiting while crunching knuckles. But he didn't care. He felt himself weaken under her tender lips. Teasing pecks lined the side of his neck. It was all part of the act, he imagined, no matter how badly he wished her interest was real. She lifted her head unexpectedly and knocked his hat to the ground.

Konohamaru lingered in a haze and didn't realise he was exposed until her expression darkened from mellow to shocked. He could've sworn the music stopped. She retreated, hand over her mouth, then turned and ran awkwardly, trying to weather stilettos while covering her rear.

As the club murmured in puzzlement, Konohamaru tapped the top of his head, recognising the spikes of hair. Uh oh. By the time the blunder dawned on him, he and Naruto were surrounded by a dozen disgruntled men cracking their knuckles. If they needed any more reason to hate Konohamaru, ending the show prematurely fit the bill. The mob roughed them up real good before tossing them out on their asses and flinging their poor disguise on top of them.

Naruto growled. "No fair, I didn't get to see anything. You hogged all the face time."

Convincing Naruto that was a good thing seemed highly improbable. "How was I supposed to know we'd get thrown out?"

Naruto grumbled. He needed someone to blame. "What happened anyway?"

"Uh, we got caught? Obviously?" Konohamaru followed up to avoid a barrage of questions. "Let's just go home and try again tomorrow."

"Easy for you to say. You got to see the whole show. All I got was a lap dance." He sighed dreamily. "A lap dance . . . wish I'd got to see the angel's face. Was she hot?"

Konohamaru donned a nervy expression, finding the question awkward to answer. "Yeah, buddy . . . she was."

The evening's events ran laps in Konohamaru's mind. He could still see the flashing lights. Hear the music throbbing, her stunts coordinated with every drumbeat. Smell her fragrance through the cloud of alcohol and cigarette smoke. He'd caught Naruto's Mom in her element, and in a sad way, she caught him in his. His body trembled anticipating their next encounter, fearing what her reaction would be. Shouting, screaming, punching, all penalties he'd seen her carry out on Naruto. None struck more fear than the painless possibility of a ban. He'd even take his parents being told over never being allowed to go to Naruto's house again, never being able to see her again. Distracted, he hadn't realised they reached Naruto's house until the blond shouted at him for grabbing the door knob.

"Are you crazy? We can't just waltz through the front. What if my mom hears?"

"Oh, right," said Konohamaru, although he was pretty sure she hadn't beaten them to the house. His last memory of her, flushed and cowering away, wasn't something you just shook off and went home from. He suddenly felt a heavy burden to apologise.

They climbed through Naruto's window the same way they snuck out, quiet as can be, Konohamaru keeping up the pretence of possibly getting caught. Naruto tucked himself into bed. Konohamaru lingered absent-mindedly. Naruto had to ask him what the hell he was still doing in his room. Oh, right. He jumped out and stalked away, hands in his pockets through the cold night. He crossed the street, stopped, then turned back, regarding Naruto's house with a mournful expression.

. . .

Konohamaru sat in a quiet darkness. It could've been 30 minutes, it could've been 30 hours. Time had long lost its grip on him. He was beginning to nod off when the sound of a closing door reached his ears. Finally. He sat up and wiped the sleepiness from his eyes. Footsteps climbed the stairs. The light treads of a kunoichi, almost invisible to his ears. He wouldn't have detected them if they weren't exactly what he expected. The door inched open. A silhouette slithered into the room. The lights came on. Kushina shrieked as her handbag hit the ground.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, harshly.

He could tell by the way she glanced around that Naruto was her main concern. "He's fast asleep."

She studied his expression, weighing his words before closing the door gently. Anger replaced the concern in her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she repeated.

"I . . . I felt like I should apologise."

"Damn right you should." She was sterner than she'd ever been with him, jaw tight, nostrils flaring, a far cry from the gentle being offering milk and cookies. He couldn't help shy from her stringent glare, but in doing so, surveyed the long coat concealing everything from neck to knees. He recognised the heels straight away and his mind grew rife with speculation. It was the absolutely wrong thing to think about in the situation, but he had to wonder . . . was she was still wearing it?

"Don't," said Kushina, pulling his gaze back to her face. "Don't look at me like that."

He noted a tinge of embarrassment on her cheeks as she fidgeted with the coat. "Like what?" he asked, dumbly.

"For heaven's sakes, Konohamaru. I'm old enough to be your own mother!"

It sounded ludicrous when she put it that way. The only thing he could think to say was, "I don't mind."

Her incredulous puff told him it was the wrong comment to make. She opened the door and demanded his departure, arms crossed, closed to discussion. He shuffled across the room with his head down. But something happened in that short walk. A new courage was born by the time he reached the door. "You know, for such a strong woman you're a fraidy-cat, Kushina."

"What?" She dared him to continue.

He did. "I get that your marriage didn't work but you can't lock everyone out forever." The observation left her momentarily stunned, not quite expecting a boy his age to grasp anything beyond games and mischief. "Besides," he continued. "I've seen the way you look at me."

Kushina's face turned bright red as if she'd just been caught dipping into the cookie jar. "Just what are you accusing me of?" Although she tried to maintain a stern disposition, the indignation in her voice had mellowed considerably. "Are you saying . . . are you calling me a –"

"I'm not calling you anything," said Konohamaru. "Except a beautiful woman."

He couldn't believe the words came out of his mouth any more than she could. Suddenly, they were both blushing like children on the playground admitting their crushes on each other. Riding his wave of confidence, Konohamaru slowly closed the door he should've walked out of seconds ago.

Kushina stood by, defeated. "K-Konohamaru. . ."

"Mrs. Uzumaki." He couldn't explain the sudden liking to her formal name. It rolled off his tongue on its own accord. Gulping down trepidation, he stepped closer, expecting her to retreat, retort, maybe even slap him in the face. But she did nothing. "Mrs. Uzumaki, it's okay to let me in."

Their toes touched. The air was charged, the proximity setting his nerve endings alight. His height improved in the past couple of years, reaching her chest if he counted the tallest hair on his head. He lifted a shaky hand and found a gap between her coat buttons. Her non-reaction read like a silent nod. He slipped through the opening, feeling the texture change from leather to velvety skin, confirming his suspicion of her inner attire. Her abdomen was hot and flinched at the introduction of cold digits. Rather than rebuke him, she steeled her gut for further exploration. He savoured the time studying her terrain, smoother than silk, and impressively flat. As a fingertip slipped into her bellybutton, she shuddered, a ticklish groan falling from her lips. He took an immediate liking to the small noises she made.

His upper arm formed a large bulge in her coat as he rounded a corner of her hips and massaged her lower spine. Head against her chest, he felt her heart pounding on his eardrum. He credited himself for its racy pace, naturally. The thrill of exciting her body shot straight to his head. A self-proclaimed virtuoso, he subconsciously pulled her into him, the bulge in his shorts rubbing against her thigh. He fancied himself warmed up and ready. His arm struggled to delve any deeper however, his elbow stuck in the crammed space between her buttons. Now was good a time as any to get rid of the coat, he decided. The impatient boy skipped over the complexity of unfastening things, yanking open the coat instead, his unexpected strength sending buttons flying at his chest. Blood rushing, he reached for her crotch with a boldness that surprised him. She seized his wrist before he got anywhere near his target.

"Easy, boy," said Kushina, a smile in her voice. Embarrassed, he felt as if he'd been scolded despite the humour in her tone. She led him by the wrist to the edge of her bed.

A saner pace suited her ill desires. She slid the coat down her arms and let it fall to the floor. Aside from the wig, her sensuous outfit remained the same. Konohamaru gulped as if he was seeing it for the first time; her proximity, and the added benefit of privacy, felt like a new, exciting experience. He found himself on the hard end of another torturous striptease. Her right heel pressed into his thigh, but he was numb to the pain, entranced by the long, winding leg instead. She swatted his hand every time he lifted a finger. He would've thought privacy precluded the 'no touching' rule, evidently not. She unravelled his scarf with a smooth pull and incorporated it into her dance seamlessly. He wasn't going to be washing it any time soon. Tossing the scarf aside, she straddled his lap, the cruellest test of the 'no touching' rule, and grinded him in ways reminiscent of the club. He didn't shy from her affections this time. But, suddenly, she stopped, frozen in his lap.

"What's wrong?" he wondered, prepared to apologise for however he'd screwed up.

"What am I doing?" She seemed to be asking herself more than anyone else. "What are we doing? This is crazy. Naruto's my son, your friend. Don't you care?"

The short answer was no. "He's fast asleep," Konohamaru reiterated.

"Yeah, but –"

"Stop thinking about Naruto and think about yourself for once," said Konohamaru, lust making him a beacon of pseudo-wisdom. "This is what you need. How long has it been, Mrs. Uzumaki?" It was a question she answered with coy silence. "Let me help you," he said, helping himself to her bra. He unveiled her cups, excitement tightening his chest as her perky buds met him at eye level.

Konohamaru captured her breasts in his mitts and mouth. A natural compulsion drove him to suck, and while his lips were engorged with one mound, his hand massaged the other, subtle pinches dabbing at its squishiness. Her tits shared the wondrous smoothness of every part of her body, tongue sailing over and around her slopes. In contrast, each nipple stood firm and awake at the centre of its coarse, little island. She especially liked it when he visited there. He battled to convince himself this was real; he was sucking on a grown woman's breasts. And not just any woman – his best friend's mom. All those men in the club would be wishing they ended him when they had the chance. Recalling the dazzling striptease, there was something he just had to try.

He applied a tighter squeeze to the mother's breasts, and true to his deductions, a warm sweetness trickled down his throat. She gasped, unnerved by his little stunt. He realised it was weird, granted the whole situation was weird, but this was weird enough to necessitate her permission to continue. "Can I?" he said, breasts in hand, enquiring puppy-dog eyes.

"Go on," she said, shadow of a smile. "It will make you big and strong." She winked.

He had her moaning as he milked her tits. The best spurts required more than squeezing hard and blind, he discovered; there was finding the optimal area between the meaty parts and areolae, and then there was applying the right pressure. On perfect execution, her gismos squirted the back of his throat, and he gulped down her nutrients heartily. Hard to believe he was suckling from the same teats his best friend had as a child. It was easy to get over the weirdness when it felt and tasted this good though. He leaned back and she leaned forward, easing into parallel alignment, his spine soothing into the mattress, udders hung above his face. The position bolstered her flow, catching him unawares; he choked on her extra supply and sputtered as white streams trailed down the sides of his cheeks. She found amusement in his plight. The tip of his tongue darted from one corner of his mouth to the other, mopping up the tasty mess.

As he nursed her breasts, she seemed to replace every gulp he extracted instantaneously. The depths of her wells showed no signs of a bottom. Amazing, considering how she doused a club with half a pint too. The ravenous boy strived to milk Naruto's Mom till her healthy breasts wilted to raisins, but while his stomach filled to the brim, her mounds remained just as round and plump as when he'd started, ready for the next squeeze. She had to be cheating. There had to be some sort of mass diary production jutsu at play here. Determined, he squeezed and slurped, milk flowing over the bottom half of his face now, squeezed, slurped, spilling onto the sheets, squeezed till she cried out and discharged gallon after gallon down his gullet, nearly drowning him in bliss, squeezed and slurped some more, gobbled at her teats the messy child, wild tongue lapping all over her breasts. The endless fountains poured until he lost the strength to nurse them. One dangling nipple leaked like a faucet, dripping milk on his chin. As he lie sprawled out and bloated, a burp brought them both to giggles.

Her eyes glinted at the marked hump in his shorts. "Ooh," she hummed. "What have we here?" As her thin hand slithered towards his waistband, a nervy excitement gripped his chest. He found himself surprisingly unprepared and insecure. It must've spilt onto his face. "Not your first time is it?" He shook his head. She regarded him with a careful eye, maybe impressed, probably suspicious. For a moment he feared he'd have to come clean but she ventured into his pants without comment. "See that?" She stroked him with two fingers. "I told you it would make you big and strong."

Her dexterity lifted him worlds away. There was nothing complicated or novel about her technique. Simple strokes he'd served himself on many evenings. Yet there was more to her touch, the softness of her hand, some magic in her fingertips that roused his shaft like he'd never been able to. She taught him patience. Left to his own devices, he'd be pumping his dick in a blur of digits, racing to an explosive finish. She proved a cautious pace could be just as euphoric if done right, and Mrs. Uzumaki knew how to do it right. Meticulous in her service, she left no ball unturned, massaging his scrotum, petting his cock. Patience was key. With one hand stirring in his shorts, she lied next to him and stroked his hair, adoration in her blue eyes, a doting mother. Then she kissed him.

She tasted like . . . milk. Perhaps not so surprising given the remnants on his tongue and lips. She was a good kisser, he decided, based on his fantasies of kissing women. Her lips were lush cushions, gentle upon his, light and easy. She took his inexperience in her stride, leading the pace, stroking his face to ease him. He feared opening his eyes, lest he wake to a reality where she turned out to be a pillow, again. She taught him how to use his tongue, guiding him with her own, and all the while keeping his member from falling asleep. One second he could taste her scent on him, the next she disappeared, everything quiet, then a tug pulled at his shorts.

"Just relax," she whispered as he began to sit up, easing him back down. He was still a little wary but learned to close his eyes and trust her. Shorts and underwear were pulled off his person at once, leaving him apprehensively cold from the waist down. It felt like forever before the weight of her presence returned. He flinched as her soft hands reaffirmed touch. Reeling at her caress, he felt her hoist his dick upright. What he felt next sucked the breath from his lungs. A boisterous sigh poured from his lips as an overwhelming warmth embraced his cock. Her tongue smeared its slickness up, down and all around his erection. But she never once forgot about his balls. She used her hands and tongue in tandem, ensuring the utmost treatment for his manhood. All he felt was bliss. All he heard was her mouth working, purring, humming, his dick popping in and out of the orifice. Her expertise had him singing moans, and every so often, she had to hush him out the side of her stuffed mouth. He was helpless to her will. She knew when to suck, when to squeeze the base, when to daub the head, when to stroke the shaft and spread her lubricant, and when to roll his balls, and mixed it all up in an unpredictable game of pleasure and torment. Worst of all, she knew when to stop to prevent his orgasm. He opened his eyes to the sight of Naruto's Mom engulfing damn near his entire dick, head bobbing with gusto. Her pretty gaze rose to meet his lidded eyes, and then she winked, a tiny gesture that would've flooded her mouth with seed had she not acted quickly to break his momentum.

"You're ready." She rose to a stand, her godly form peering down on him, the mere mortal, light bulb shining behind her head like the sun, adorning her body with a golden glow. What little clothes she had left fell to the floor one by one; she made a show of it of course, the drumrolls practically playing in his head. His heart picked up pace after each item disappeared. When she got to the thong, he swallowed all the anticipation that had built in his throat. He gawked at her womanhood as if it was the first he'd ever seen. And it was, in person. She maintained a neat tuft of hair, the same auburn colouring her locks. It made her sex all the more pinker. The torturous woman brought it a whiff away from his nostrils. His dick jutted at the close-up and his mouth frothed with lust. She told him to raise his arms and helped remove the rest of his clothes.

Konohamaru barely breathed as he watched her nude form crawl onto the sheets, the crinkling at the bottom of her curved cheeks, and that lush pussy wedged in between. She spread her legs and beckoned him with a finger. "This is what you want right? To fuck your best friend's mom?" He nodded without shame. "Come on then," she purred. "Come on. Like my milk and cookies, do you? Come here and get some." As soon as he crawled within reach, she grabbed his cock and rubbed the head up and down her slit. Her saturated folds lapped up the pre-cum bubbling on his end. She finally settled him at her entrance with one final instruction. "Go slow."

Konohamaru pushed, only to meet resistance at her walls. He blamed himself for doing something wrong, possibly aiming waywardly despite her guidance. She settled all his anxieties with a single word. Harder. And so he charged through the tightness of her threshold. She whimpered at his entry, a high-pitched sound he'd never expected from a strong woman like her. He asked if she was alright. Flushed, she seemed embarrassed by her own reaction, urging him to go on so they could forget it ever happened. Naturally, Konohamaru took it as a compliment to his size.

Going slow was easier said than done. He lost count of how many times he accelerated beyond his control, nearing the point of no return, only to be brought back by her reproach; sometimes she'd have to put a hand on his abdomen to get him to slow down. It was a buzzkill at first, but if not her directive, he would've blown his load ten seconds inside her, an embarrassing conclusion for him and an unfulfilling one for her. Patience was key. After everything she'd done to and for him, a little self-control wasn't much to ask. Besides, he should've been savouring every moment inside her baking oven. He had to calm his mind from the occasion, relax the little boy in his head screaming, I'm fucking Naruto's Mom, holy shit! He had to listen to her commands, do it right, or he may never get to do it again. And he really wanted to do it again. It in a weird way, it was like taking a hands-on lesson on how to fuck from his mom. In an even weirder way, the dynamic turned him on.

They moaned in union when he buried his full length inside her for the first time. The tightness of her entrance continued to surprise him. It was hard to believe anything as big as Naruto's head managed to fit through there. A long time ago, granted. It was a long time ago since she had a dick inside her too. Long enough to re-establish some tightness by the feel of it. Her initial whimper may well have been less to do with size and more to do with rediscovering sex. Naaah, thought Konohamaru, I'm big alright. Big and strong, she said as much. Whatever the size of his penis, it was quite clearly good enough for her, judging by the rosy look on her face, the moans dribbling from her lips, her insistence on being slow to prolong the pleasures of his dick. For as long as he'd been dreaming of fucking her, Konohamaru realised, she'd been aching to be fucked. Had she been grooming him with milk and cookies all this time? If so, long may it continue.

Kushina had taken to rubbing her clit. "Faster. . ." she breathed between moans, ". . . faster . . . faster . . ."

The urgency in her voice told him everything he needed to know. Naruto's Mom was ready to cum. And he was going to be the one to bring her it.

As she lied spread-eagle on the bed, Konohamaru filled the hot space between her legs. Her desperate pleas sounded like permission to run wild. At long last. He grabbed her thighs and pinned them to his chest, using them as leverage to swing his hips, driving his cock deeper and faster inside her. His momentum smacked the back of her thighs and buttocks, echoing with fervent pace and intensity. Passion eroded their minds, both blissfully unconcerned of Naruto hearing them in the next room, the song of moans growing louder by the second. The sweat dropping from his forehead added lubricant to her sex, as if she needed any more, her juices squelching every second he filled her gash. As her body rocked from restless pounding, her flailing breasts spewed droplets of milk every which way, nearly blinding him in one instance. But that wouldn't break his stride. Nothing would stop him from fucking Mrs. Uzumaki absolutely ragged. Her moans rose in pitch as she fast approached her limit, announcing her impending climax in vaguely coherent squeals. With one final plunge taking him balls-deep, Konohamaru emptied his heavy load, dick twitching as spurt after spurt filled his best friend's mom.

He couldn't believe he'd done it. He'd done it. He fucked Naruto's Mom. Came inside her to boot. He turned to her, a sweaty, heaving mess, big goofy smile on his mug. "Mrs. Uzumaki, I think I'm in love with you."

It came so unexpectedly she had to laugh. "It really was your first time, wasn't it?"

"No, I mean, yes, but doesn't change the fact –"

"Go home, Konohamaru." She kissed him on the forehead. "It's past you bedtime. By the way, this never happened. You understand?"

"Yeah…"

. . .

"And then I got the best lap dance ever!" Naruto was telling everyone at their next meeting. Rock Lee and Choji listened with interest. Shino and Neji didn't seem to care. Sai was trying to figure out what parts of the story could be true. And Konohamaru sat quietly, unable to share the greatest tale of them all. "Right Konohamaru?" said Naruto, nudging him after a question he hadn't heard.

"Uh, right."

"So anyway," said Naruto. "I was thinking we can do it even bigger this time. It's gonna take a lot more planning but trust me, it's so gonna be worth it." Everyone was listening now, paying full attention until the door creaked open.

Kushina descended the basement stairs.

Konohamaru perked up for the first time since the meeting started.

"How are all my boys doing?" she asked.

"Great, Mrs. Uzumaki!" exclaimed Rock Lee, chipper as ever. "How about you, ma'am? You're doing great too, right? You sure look it!"

She baulked at his constant state of excitement.

"Kushina," said Choji. "No milk and cookies today?" It was something they all noticed, the lack of fresh-baked aromas surrounding her.

"Well last time I did that, someone," said Kushina, glancing at Naruto out the corner of her eye. "Didn't like it very much."

"That's okay," said Sai. "None of us like him very much."

"We all love your milk and cookies though!" said Rock Lee. And everyone around him nodded in agreement. Naruto was the last, but eventually did too, albeit after glares from everyone else.

"I guess it wouldn't be such a bad idea," he submitted. "We're probably gonna be here for hours. It'll help."

"For hours, huh?" Kushina mused for a second. "My little munchkins are always working so hard. How can I say no? I could do with an extra set of hands though. If one of you would be so kind as to –" Rock Lee volunteered first, jumping out of his seat. "That's okay, Lee," said Kushina, chuckling nervously. "You seem pretty busy. Hm." She looked around the table. "How about you?"

Her finger was pointed at Konohamaru. Everyone thought it was random. No one disagreed.

"Okay," said Konohamaru, doing his best to curtail his excitement.

Discussion around the table continued as he and Kushina climbed the stairs. No less than several hours would pass while they worked tirelessly on a fresh batch of milk and cookies.

END