Ch.322322. Do I Really Have to Choose? – side. Hwanabi

“Nabi, you. Do you like this better, or do you like me better?”

“……”

If I said it felt like my breath was suddenly caught in my throat, would that make sense? The moment he patted his waistband and asked whether I preferred what was inside or him as a person, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind.

I don’t know if I should say this out loud, but his thing and him aren’t two separate entities, are they? It’s not like a rabbit’s liver that can be detached and reattached at will.

And even if they could be separated, I’d probably choose both. Why? Because I like both what’s in his pants and him equally—I can’t rank one above the other.

No, what am I saying about “liking”? I simply love him. So how could I possibly choose just one when he asks me to pick between the two?

Well, if I were forced to make an extreme choice and had to give up one, I’d obviously choose him. As much as I enjoy making love, I couldn’t choose that over him. From that perspective, I guess I do like him more than what’s in his pants.

But how do I explain this? If I say I love both tremendously but my husband a little more… I don’t think I could handle the aftermath.

“Um… well.”

“Why can’t you answer?”

“Well, you see…”

I tried to think of an explanation that would satisfy him, but it was impossible to come up with something good in such a short time.

When I hesitated and let my words trail off, he stared at me quietly before bluntly asking:

“Could it be that you can’t answer because you like this more than me?”

“Well, that’s not exactly it…”

“…What does that mean? ‘Not exactly’?”

I could hear the bewilderment in his voice. He seemed to think I was hesitating because I preferred what was in his pants over him.

Thinking he might misunderstand if I left it at that, I tried to quickly explain that wasn’t the case, but his expression kept changing.

At first, he looked at me with a “No way, that can’t be right” face, then as I remained silent, his expression changed to “…That’s not it, right?” Finally, his face showed utter disbelief, like “How could you do this to me?” as he grabbed both my arms.

“Hwa Nabi, you… are you really with me just for my body, not for me?”

“What…?”

“Are you living with me because you like this more than me?”

“……”

The gender roles are completely reversed here. I stared at him blankly, at a loss for words.

Wait, aren’t these questions usually asked by women to men…? Why am I hearing this from my husband?

Normally he’d be too embarrassed to ask such things directly, but he must be quite drunk to ask this without any hesitation. This is why alcohol is scary—it makes people say things they normally wouldn’t.

“Wow, honestly… I’m shocked?”

“Look, husband. I think there’s some misunderstanding…”

“Nabi, am I that unattractive? Am I a man with no other merits besides this impressive thing?”

Still holding me, he patted his waistband again and asked in a quite serious voice.

“…Pfft.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. His tone and expression were dead serious, but the question was so absurd.

Oh, what should I do? Is it because he’s drunk? He’s being several times cuter than usual, asking questions and doing things he’d never do normally. Is it okay for a grown man to be this innocent? It makes me want to take him to bed and do all sorts of things.

“Why are you laughing…?”

“…Ahem, no. Of course not. How could my husband possibly be an unattractive man with no other merits besides what’s down there?”

“Then tell me yourself.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“You just said it, didn’t you? That I have other merits too. But I don’t really see them, so tell me instead. What other merits do I have?”

“…Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m asking seriously.”

Oh, I didn’t think he’d actually ask this directly… Hmm, my husband’s charms. What should I say that would make him happy? After thinking briefly, several things came to mind that he’d like to hear.

“First of all… you’re always gentle with me and the kids, never raising your voice.”

“Mm-hmm, and?”

“You always smile when you see me even though you must be tired from work. You go along with my jokes, you don’t show when you dislike something, and you immediately notice what I can’t do and solve it for me. Um, also…”

“…Wait, there’s more?”

“Yes, I’ve barely started?”

“I’m, getting a bit embarrassed… let’s wrap this up.”

If you were going to be embarrassed, why did you ask me to tell you in the first place? I’d like to list everything and boost his self-esteem, but he genuinely seems embarrassed, which is rare for him, so I’ll just mention two more things.

“Then I’ll just say two more things and finish.”

“Okay, what are they?”

“Heh, well…”

“Well what…?”

“Yes, well…”

“…?”

My deliberate pause seems to be working, as he’s waiting for my words, forgetting even to blink.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him close, and whispered slowly into his ear.

“…That you give in to all my demands at night, and that you’ve never shown me that you get tired before I do?”

“……”

“Oh, and there’s also how handsome you are and your great body. Your defined collarbone, and you know that groove between your abs? I like how it feels strange and good when I trace it with my finger.”

“Wait, that last one doesn’t seem like my merit.”

“Why not? It’s your body, so isn’t that your merit?”

“…I feel like I’m being tricked somehow.”

“Heh, why would you say you’re being tricked?”

He’s grumbling on purpose, pretending not to like it when I can clearly see that he does. Sometimes he seems much more mature than me, but other times he seems younger, which is secretly cute.

Maybe having both older and younger charms simultaneously is also a merit? …Hmm, I’m not sure.

“Husband.”

“Yes?”

“Let me hold you, come here.”

“You’re already holding me, why suddenly say you’ll hold me…”

I embraced him like comforting a child and stroked the back of his head. Despite his complaints, he quietly hugged me back.

Is it because he’s a man? He seems honest in some ways but oddly stubborn in others. But while his words may express dislike, his body is honest. He comes to be held when I open my arms, buries his face in my chest when I touch his head, and even secretly sniffs me.

“…Mmm.”

He seems to be trying to sniff quietly without me noticing, but from this angle, I can’t help but see what he’s doing.

With a bit of exaggeration, I can even see his nostrils flaring. But does he know this?

Well, probably not. If he knew, he wouldn’t try to secretly smell my chest. Though I don’t show it, my husband is already in the palm of my hand.

“…Heh.”

Whether he knows my thoughts or not, he took his time secretly smelling me while holding me. I didn’t time it, but it felt like about thirty seconds?

After sniffing for quite a while, apparently having enjoyed my scent enough, he suddenly cleared his throat repeatedly. It seems like something came to mind.

“By the way, Nabi.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“So, what do you like more in the end? Me or this?”

“Huh, wasn’t that conversation over?”

“You didn’t say anything definitive. It’s not over until you say it clearly. So tell me exactly. Me or this guy?”

Though it’s definitely part of his body, he refers to it as “this guy.” It’s unlike him, which makes it somewhat cute. I lightly kissed his cheek, smiled, and answered:

“Come on, of course I like you more, husband. You know you’re the only one for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Then say it once more.”

“I like you much more than that thing, husband.”

“Just one more time.”

“My husband whom I love most in the world is the best, the most wonderful in the world. There, satisfied?”

I patted his back after giving an appropriate answer to his repeated requests. He seems quite drunk, but this should be enough to satisfy him.

With that thought, I hopped off his thigh.

“…Wait, where are you going?”

Well, that’s what I tried to do. If he hadn’t suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace and grabbed the hem of my skirt, that’s what I would have done.

I looked at him in surprise. What’s gotten into him? Is he too drunk to think straight?

If that was the case, I was about to part my lips to tell him to let go, to take his hands off. But his hands moved first.

His rough fingers slipped between the thin fabric of my mini skirt and quickly invaded down to my waist. His calloused fingertips, toughened by exercise, firmly grabbed my buttocks and kneaded them in one swift motion.

“…Eek!”

An electrifying sensation shot through me, making my back straighten involuntarily. My face instantly flushed hot, and I instinctively grabbed both his shoulders.

“Why, why are you doing this? Suddenly, grabbing someone’s butt as you please…!”

“You teased me first. This is punishment, stay still.”

“How can I stay still when you’re kneading my butt? …Eek! Mmph, this man again…!”

“If you keep resisting, I’ll have to be even rougher. Is that okay with you?”

“You’re already being rough! If you get any rougher from here, what exactly are you planning to do?!”

“Well, maybe your butt will turn red?”

“Wow, husband. You really, really are a pervert…!”

“…Why do you keep calling a perfectly normal person a pervert? This won’t do, I need to teach you a proper lesson so you never say that again.”