Ch.323323. What’s the Most Sensitive Part of a Woman?

With his hands supporting my back and the back of my knees, he lifted me in what’s commonly called a princess carry and stood up from his seat.

“Ah…”

Feeling my body float in the air made me slightly nervous, so I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. As if he had been waiting for this, he pressed his lips against mine and smiled.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve carried you like this, so why are you suddenly scared?”

“Are you asking because you don’t know…?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“…You’re just talking nonsense.”

It would be abnormal to remain calm when someone suddenly lifts you up without warning.

Besides, this way of carrying me serves as a signal from him. It’s like he’s saying, “I’m about to do those things with you, so tell me now if you don’t want to”… something like that?

If I don’t refuse here, he’ll “teach me a lesson” as he said. The location would obviously be the bed, and the method…

“Let’s go.”

While I was lost in these thoughts, he began taking large strides.

Moving away from the table where the half-finished wine and glasses sat, he approached the soft bed and gently laid me down.

“Need a pillow?”

“Ah, yes. That would be nice.”

“Here you go.”

For someone who said he was going to teach me a lesson, his movements were surprisingly gentle as he pulled over a pillow and placed it under my neck.

I wonder if he’s going to charge interest for all this kindness later. While I appreciate his consideration, I can’t help feeling uneasy. Maybe it’s because my back is touching the bed sheets?

“Your hand.”

“Hand…?”

Thinking he wanted me to give him my hand, I extended my right one, and he reached out with his left to hold it. He gently pulled, interlocking our fingers, then slowly approached and climbed on top of me.

With his knees bent, he slowly looked me over from head to toe, perhaps out of consideration for me.

He stared at my thighs extending from beneath my mini skirt, then briefly glanced at my abdomen just above them. Next, he gazed at my deeply exposed chest area, before quickly shifting his gaze to stare directly, very directly, into my eyes…

“…”

…I feel unnecessarily tense and my heart is racing. It would be better if he just looked at my chest; holding hands and making eye contact without saying anything is strangely burdensome in its own way.

When I tried to look away, he pulled on our interlocked hands as if telling me not to avert my gaze. I had no choice but to look at him again.

“…Ahem.”

I’ve seen his face up close many times before, but I wonder why my heart still races strangely every time I look at him like this.

Suppressing my pounding heart, I slightly raised my eyes. I wanted to carefully capture the image of my handsome husband in my mind.

His C-curl bangs that reached his eyebrows, his long eyelashes, large eyes, fair skin with cheeks flushed from alcohol, and those moist lips with their charming smile…

“Nabi.”

“…Y-yes?”

Lost in admiration without realizing it, I snapped back to reality at the sound of his voice. He was looking down at me with an enigmatic smile.

“Our Nabi seems very interested in my face?”

“Ah, n-no. It’s not exactly like that…”

“No, maybe it’s not just my face but my whole body? Nabi, you like looking at my body, don’t you?”

“…”

Well, it would be a lie to deny it—I absolutely love looking at my husband’s body!

Still, it was a bit embarrassing to readily admit it. I mean, I have a certain social image to maintain, and if I say I enjoy looking at and touching his body… what would he think of me?

He’d probably think I’m some kind of secretly lustful woman. That can’t happen. I swallowed hard and quickly shook my head in denial.

“I don’t? I don’t particularly like it…”

“Huh, you don’t?”

“No, I don’t. Who told you that? That I like looking at your body.”

“I’ll ask one last time, really, you don’t?”

“I said I don’t.”

“Is that so? That’s too bad. Since we have plenty of time, if you’d said you liked it, I would have let you look and touch all you wanted.”

“…Wait, what did you say?”

Hearing something unbelievable, I opened my eyes wide and looked at him sharply. Still positioned above me, he silently laughed as if nothing had happened and slowly released our interlocked fingers.

Where does this man think he’s going? I quickly grabbed his hand again. Then I reached out with my left hand and seized his right one.

I interlocked our fingers tightly so he couldn’t let go, and asked him if what he just said was true.

“Yeah, it’s true.”

“Really? Then starting now, can I touch…”

“But Nabi, didn’t you just say you don’t particularly like looking at my body? What’s the point of touching something you don’t even like?”

“No, wait. Husband! That was just…”

“Just what?”

“…Just because.”

I belatedly realized I’d fallen into a contradiction. I can’t answer his question about why I want to touch something I supposedly don’t like!

Would he let it go if I said I was just playing hard to get? No, judging by how he’s talking, he seems determined to tease me. Admitting it straightforwardly won’t help. That would just give him more ammunition.

So, how can I change his mind? I frantically scanned his body while considering my options.

What I want is his body.

Which means, I should offer something similar as a negotiation condition, right?

“…Fine. I’ll let you touch me too.”

“Let me touch what?”

“My body. Touch me however you want.”

“You know what you just said sounds really strange, right…?”

“What does it matter? You touch me all you want anyway, and it’s not like I’ll wear out from being touched more, so just go ahead. Happy now?”

“My, what a headstrong young lady.”

“We’re married, so I’m not a ‘young lady’ anymore.”

“That’s true,” he muttered, smiling wryly as he sat down beside me. I propped myself up on my elbows.

Now that I’ve set my condition, it’s time for him to fulfill his promise. I placed my palm on his abdomen and rubbed it. It was my way of asking him to take off his clothes before I got impatient and did it myself.

“Hurry, hurry up.”

“Wait a bit, let me undo these buttons.”

As if intending to tease me, he unbuttoned his shirt one by one from the top. Unable to wait, I reached out and quickly undid the buttons at the bottom of his shirt.

“You’re being very accommodating today?”

“Come on, what do you mean ‘accommodating’? Stop talking and hurry up and take it off…!”

After undoing all his shirt buttons, I slipped my hand inside. I was trying to help him take it off, but when my fingers touched his skin, he chuckled as if ticklish.

Whether he liked it or not, I rubbed his lower back and sides while pulling off his shirt. As he twisted his body impatiently, the shirt fell to the floor, revealing his toned upper body.

“You’re so impatient.”

“…”

He shifted his hips back and placed his hands on the bed sheets. This made his shoulders spread wide, giving me a full view of his toned upper body.

How can someone’s shoulders be so broad? I could probably swim across them and still have plenty of distance left. How many centimeters wide are they? Maybe fifty?

While touching his shoulders and thinking about this, I shifted my gaze to his chest.

These broad, firm chest muscles press against my chest when we embrace, giving me that solid sensation. But they’re not just hard. Despite looking firm, they’re surprisingly soft when embraced.

How should I describe it? Something between firmness and softness? When I press like this, my fingers usually sink in, but when he tenses his muscles, they become firm and resist.

“It tickles when you touch me like that.”

“I’ll touch just once more, so relax a bit.”

After touching his chest a few more times, feeling its softness and firmness, I moved my hand to gently squeeze his right bicep.

These arms, probably twice the size of mine, can easily lift me with strength to spare. They’re so thick that they feel similar to the circumference of my thighs, which says it all.

“Husband, how much exercise does it usually take to be able to lift someone like you do?”

“I’m not sure about women, but men can generally lift a woman’s weight without special training.”

“Really? Can anyone lift someone forward-facing like you do?”

“No, what I meant was lifting by holding the waist. Not everyone can lift someone facing forward. They might manage briefly, but walking while carrying someone or holding them up continuously like I do with you isn’t easy. It looks simple but it’s actually very difficult.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Since I’ve only been carried by my husband and never carried anyone myself, I can’t really gauge how difficult it is. The heaviest thing I’ve ever lifted was probably that 20kg bag of rice when I lived alone?

Whenever I needed to move something heavier, I called a repair person, and after meeting my husband, I asked him to do it all in exchange for kisses on the cheek.

“How much do you weigh, husband?”

“In college I was in the mid-seventies, but lately I’ve increased my workouts so I’m around eighty now.”

“Wow, that’s almost twice my weight.”

“Our Nabi, you only weigh forty kilos?”

“Well, I haven’t weighed myself recently so I’m not sure, but probably around that?”

“Is that so? Then that’s not right. I have a pretty sensitive sense for these things. You’ve gotten slightly heavier since your student days. These days you’re probably in the mid to late forties, or generously speaking, around fifty…”

“Husband…?”

I stared at him with wide eyes, and he seemed startled too, flinching before opening his mouth to offer a stream of excuses.

“Nabi. I didn’t mean you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Women naturally gain weight after having children, you know? So don’t take it to heart…”

“…Hey.”

“Uh, yes?”

“Take off your pants.”