Steam fills the marble bathroom where itachi x naruto unfolds. Water cascades over her skin, turning every droplet into liquid diamonds in itachi x naruto. She lathers slowly, palms gliding across full breasts, down the slope of her stomach, between her thighs—each motion deliberate, intoxicating in itachi x naruto. The camera of itachi x naruto worships the way soap clings to her curves before sliding away. In itachi x naruto, she presses herself against cool tile, fingers slipping inside with a sigh that echoes off the walls. The rhythm builds, water and breath and pleasure mingling in perfect chaos within itachi x naruto. When release finally crashes through her in itachi x naruto, her cry is raw, real, utterly feminine. itachi x naruto leaves you drenched in more ways than one, craving another viewing of its sensual masterpiece.