Self-ManagementThere you sat, idly scratching at the bench outside the dressing room in one of Konoha’s premier athletic stores that had opened up only months ago. It was there you sat, waiting for Naruto to emerge from the dressing room, sure to be clad in a skin-tight speedo that left little to nothing to your imagination.
Not that you exactly wanted anything left to the imagination. Every time you saw him naked, it gave you such a raw thrill, one that left goosebumps riding up your forearms and every hair on your body standing on end. You thought that as his manager that you’d grow used to it. That every time you saw his herculean, sculpted muscles bulging out from every angle of his physique that you could control yourself, but even after the fifth, tenth, twentieth time it still brought immense pleasure just to gaze at this young man that was like the statue of a Greek god come to life.
It was then that you could hear him call your name. “Hey! You out there? I’m ready!