Chapter 61 Let's Talk About Reinhardt
Watching the Storm Leader and the Son of God depart, the three girls enjoying afternoon tea in the sunroom exchanged bewildered glances, each seeing surprise and disbelief in the other's eyes.
After a long silence, Victoria finally spoke.
"...Am I imagining things? Has the leader lost his mind?"
“If you feel it too, then it’s not an illusion.” Madonna fell into deep thought.
Celine didn't say anything, but her expression remained strange and complicated.
The Storm Leader was, after all, a gluttonous fellow. Once he tasted the Holy Essence, he was captivated by its sweet flavor and would savor it every now and then.
Reinhardt's knees were on his shoulders, and his body was suspended above Buster, who supported his waist to barely maintain his balance.
The Storm Leader was in a prime position; not only could he lick the minor god with a mere glance down, but he could also see the precarious droplets of moisture dangling from the swollen granary of the god, rubbed by the son of the god.
Crystal clear and beautiful.
There was an artificial hill at the edge of the pool, and Buster and Reinhardt were positioned with their backs to it. The hill provided Reinhardt with some support; otherwise, with one knee on Buster's shoulder, he would have had no hands to hold onto and would have been constantly worried about losing his balance.
With his long, wet hair plastered to his shoulders and back, Reinhardt leaned forward, his hands resting on the stone wall.
Due to inertia, the water droplet, dangling precariously from the abundant valley, suddenly plummeted. The Storm Leader, quick-witted and sharp-tongued, opened his mouth before it fell. Thus, the droplet landed perfectly on Buster's tongue.
Sweet.
With satisfaction, he pinched the smooth, tender skin of her buttocks and cheeks. They had become a little plumper, and the elastic skin and flesh peeked out from between his fingers.
Buster exerted a little force, supporting Reinhardt's waist with his palm and slowly pulling him closer. The little god, with tears in his eyes, was kissed into Buster's mouth.
Reinhardt's back ached, and he couldn't take it anymore, wanting to pull away. But Buster wouldn't let him move away, instead pushing Reinhardt even further, almost swallowing him whole.
The narrow throat forced out Reinhardt's tears, which fell in large drops onto Buster's hair and then onto the Storm Leader's throat.
Suddenly losing all his strength, Reinhardt helplessly fell into Buster's arms.
"So delicate?" Buster swallowed his tears, hugged poor Reinhardt tightly, and kissed his ear and lips.
Buster pushed the last trace of a tear into Reinhardt's mouth with his tongue and said mischievously, "Is it good?"
Reinhardt looked confused for a moment, then slowly shook his head.
"It doesn't taste good."
Her long, golden hair was damp with the steam, and a few strands clung to Reinhardt's cheeks, making her look like a specially dressed aristocratic lady, yet even more languid and beautiful.
Reinhardt's cheeks were flushed pink from the steam, and the tips of his ears were also turning red. Buster was mesmerized and leaned over to bite his earlobe.
Feeling his adorable cowering, Buster mischievously blew into his ear: "I think it tastes good, my God."
For some reason, Reinhardt's cheeks tightened when he heard the words "God" from Buster.
He suddenly wanted to see Buster's face, to see if he was smiling again. But by the time Reinhardt realized it, he had already raised his hand, his fingertips gently touching Buster's lips.
He was still smiling. Reinhardt touched the upward curve of his lips, and for some reason, he felt a little... like the kind of joy that Buster had described as liking.
Buster found this kitten-like behavior cute and alluring, and couldn't resist grabbing Reinhardt's hand and giving it a big kiss.
He smacked his lips several times, making a loud noise.
He bent down and sucked hard on the swollen breasts a few times, then straightened up and led Reinhardt's finger to touch the corner of his eye.
Perhaps it was imitation, or perhaps... it was just a feeling. The beautiful deity slowly curved her lips into a smile.
The smile was slightly awkward, yet gentle and bright, clean and clear. It formed a stark contrast to the soft, shy emotions hidden beneath the rippling pool water.
The Storm Leader acted entirely on instinct, grabbing Reinhardt's hand as he touched his eyes and walking down.
"?"
So fast, Reinhardt didn't even have time to react before he grabbed the little chieftain's hand.
“Reinhardt.” Buster felt his love almost overflowing from his heart, his emotions surging uncontrollably.
He couldn't help but want to confide in this quiet, unassuming potato, wanting him to know how he felt.
He cupped the beautiful god's face in his hands, leaned down and slowly kissed him, whispering, "I love you."
Drip, drip, drip, drip, dripping water from the ends of his hair, the lips of the Son of God were kissed until they were a little swollen.
He did not answer.
But for a little potato, not resisting is the best answer.
Moreover, he had willingly parted his lips, allowing Buster to invade and take them away. In his dazed state, his hand slowly climbed up Buster's arm, and as if in response, carefully grasped his arm.
"So cute!" Buster couldn't resist grabbing his arm and wrapping it around his neck, letting the son of the god hug him. He let the little leader and the little god press tightly together.
Using his strength, he lifted Reinhardt by the waist and pushed him backward. Without any support, Reinhardt had to pull his arms together and hug Buster tightly.
Her long hair fell behind her ears, rippling like silk in the warm pool water.
Confused and infatuated.
The little leader and the little god gleefully patted the son of the god's belly, and after a long while, their navels were filled with tears.
After being bullied and crying twice, Reinhardt's fingers were so weak that he listlessly slid into the pool. If Buster hadn't held him, he probably would have put on a show of a mermaid who couldn't swim well.
Reinhardt, who was pulled out and draped over his shoulder, felt a sudden lightness in his body as he was carried away from the bath on Buster's arm.
A soft towel enveloped his body as Buster knelt before him, slowly and meticulously wiping the water stains from the god's body. From chest to calves, even his toes were pinched and played with for a while before being dried.
After changing to a new towel, the Storm Leader dried the princess's long hair before reluctantly carrying her back to bed.
The white cotton sheets supported the princess's hair and fair body. Reinhardt tilted his head back, looking in Buster's direction. His knees were still on either side of the Son of God, and he leaned down to continue capturing those lips.
"You have no perseverance at all." The Storm Leader commented on the two brief attempts, then offered his opinion and suggestions: "From now on, you not only need to eat well, but you also need to exercise more."
Otherwise, if you keep this small body, it'll be over before you even get to enjoy it.
This is terrible, Buster said, heartbroken.
As for the training program, the Storm Leader pinched the god's chin and lowered his head to give him another kiss.
Let's start practicing this.
*
Having roughly determined its target, the Endless adjusted its direction and sped through the air.
After a good night's rest, the Storm Leader was refreshed and full of vigor, like a bamboo shoot nourished by a spring breeze and drizzle. He stood tall and proud, brimming with confidence.
He wandered into the cockpit, where he bumped into Madonna, who was checking the navigation route. After chatting for a few minutes, he prepared to leave.
Madonna called out to him as he turned around.
“Chief.” Madonna hesitated for a moment, then looked at Buster with a determined expression. “Let’s… talk about Reinhardt.”
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Author's Note: Buster: Kisses, kisses ...
Reinhardt: My face and mouth feel like they're going to swell up.
Three girls: Hesitant to speak
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