Chapter 25
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Couples Help Each Other
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"Husbands and wives are supposed to help each other out, right?"
"......No panties."
Gulp.
I swallowed hard.
"For real?"
"Yeah. For real. Lower half missing? Like this."
Elma nodded.
Playful eyes.
Her idea of teasing.
Even so, the tips of her ears flushed red.
Shyness hidden beneath the boldness.
Flutter.
She grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and shook it.
"Wanna check?"
"Well then..."
The mischief stirred in me too.
I stepped forward boldly.
"Huh? Wha, what?"
Elma stumbled back.
She hadn't expected me to actually go for it.
I reached for the front of her T-shirt.
Over the fabric.
My palm covered the space between her legs, that secret spot.
Whoosh.
"......Eek?!"
Elma's shoulders twitched.
"H-Husband? Wait a sec..."
"You said to check."
I kneaded my palm.
Gray cotton T-shirt.
Beyond the soft texture.
Fluffy, springy skin.
Nothing in the way.
It really was bare skin.
"Ah... Mm...!"
Elma twisted her legs together.
She squirmed like it tickled.
I didn't stop.
Over the fabric, I persistently rubbed the cleft.
Stroke, stroke.
The friction of cloth against skin.
Elma's reactions heated things up.
"Haaah... Ah, no... Husband..."
"Why? Does it tickle?"
"Eung... Th-there, too much... Eut!"
Elma grabbed my arm.
Not pushing away.
Clinging hands.
Her legs giving out, maybe.
She leaned into me like she was collapsing.
Twitch.
Shiver.
"Ah... Mm...!"
Just a few rubs.
Her thighs clamped down on my hand.
Then released with a snap.
A short spasm.
"Haaaaah..."
Elma's head tilted back.
She panted raggedly against my chest.
I'd only touched her over her clothes.
And she went already.
I pulled my hand away.
"......"
My gaze lingered.
Gray T-shirt.
That secret spot.
A dark wet stain soaking through.
It was obvious.
"......"
Silence.
Elma hurriedly tugged down the hem of her T-shirt.
A futile gesture to hide the evidence of her climax.
"......"
Her face was beet red, like it might explode.
I coughed awkwardly without thinking.
We'd seen everything of each other.
But this felt embarrassing anyway.
"Ahem."
"Uh, ugh..."
Roll.
Elma rolled her eyes.
At a loss for what to do.
Even my face heated up.
"L-Let's just eat."
"Y-Yeah. I'm hungry..."
I hurriedly changed the subject.
Elma scampered back to the sofa.
Her hurried retreating figure.
Every time the T-shirt hem flapped, the wet stain peeked out.
Cute.
I chuckled and tied on my apron.
Elma climbed onto the sofa.
She picked up the remote.
"Can I turn on the TV?"
"Of course."
I headed to the kitchen.
From behind came a BGM I'd heard a few times before.
Documentary channel.
[Emergency Rescue! Peru Mine Collapse Site!]
Pfft... Hahaha!
Elma burst into laughter.
A serious disaster scene.
What was so funny?
Dwarf sensibilities were still beyond me.
"What's that! No wonder it collapsed—they're digging like idiots! You fools!"
Elma pointed accusingly at the screen.
Just like some old guy backseat coaching a baseball game.
"Look at that, Husband! That stratum is basalt-based—you can't drill vertically! Ugh, so frustrating! I could do better than that myself!"
"Calm down, Queen. Your blood pressure's gonna spike."
"What, Queen again! Ugh! See, I missed something fun because of you, Husband!"
Elma grumbled and pressed the remote.
Fast-forward.
Pfft...
I let out a wry chuckle.
I pulled ingredients from the fridge.
Bacon, onion, garlic, pasta noodles.
Clatter.
As I went to chop, I felt eyes boring into my back.
I glanced over my shoulder.
It was Elma.
Chin propped on the sofa back, staring right at me.
The TV was an afterthought.
Big, dewy eyes.
A faint guilt lurking within.
"......"
Our eyes met, and Elma looked away.
She fidgeted, then hopped down from the sofa with a thump.
Clutching the T-shirt hem, she approached.
"Husband."
"Yes."
"Is there... anything I can help with?"
"Pardon?"
"I want to help too."
Elma wiggled her fingers.
'Cooking is women's work.'
Dwarf conservatism at play.
She was so clumsy, I usually handled it all.
'You already did the house and furniture, Professor.'
'This is payback.'
Even after convincing her, some burden lingered.
"Just relax. Watch TV."
"No way! I can do it! Last time the floor was slippery, that's all!"
Stubborn.
But underneath, sincere.
She wanted to be helpful.
I couldn't ignore that.
"Alright. Let's do it together."
"R-Really?"
"But you have to do exactly what I say."
"Got it. You're the chef, Husband."
I pulled over a chair.
"Hop up."
The kitchen was customized to my height.
Furniture and fixtures changed bit by bit when I went out.
Elma's handiwork.
Impressive, really.
"Hup!"
Elma climbed onto the chair.
With a cute little grunt.
Now our eye levels matched.
I placed a handful of garlic in front of her.
"Peel these. Remove the stems."
"Hmph. Piece of cake."
Elma grabbed the garlic determinedly.
Small, deft hands.
She had good dexterity.
Last time was just lack of know-how, maybe.
"You're doing great."
"Of course! I'm a dwarf who could build a factory on a deserted island!"
One compliment, and her nose was in the air.
I sliced bacon beside her.
Side by side, the two of us.
Chop, chop, chop.
Scrape, scrape.
Knife on cutting board.
Garlic peels coming off.
A peaceful rhythm.
Elma kept sneaking glances at me.
"Husband."
"Yes."
"Am I... doing okay?"
"Absolutely. You're like a kitchen fairy."
"Heehee..."
A relieved laugh.
She leaned slightly into me.
Shoulder against my arm.
Warm.
"Let's keep doing it like this from now on. No more struggling alone."
"......Yeah."
Elma murmured softly.
Her peeling hands lightened up.
"Husbands and wives are supposed to help each other out, right?"
"Right. Article 1, Clause 1 of the Dwarf Marriage Code."
"There's something like that?"
"I just made it!"
"When?"
"Just now!"
I chuckled and lit the stove.
"All done."
Steaming cream pasta.
Half bacon, half noodles.
Tailored to Elma's tastes.
"Thanks for the meal!"
Elma picked up her fork.
Then paused.
Clatter.
She dropped it limply onto the plate.
"Ah..."
A short sigh.
She clutched her wrist.
"What's wrong?"
"My wrist..."
Elma furrowed her brow.
Like a tragic heroine.
"Hiiing. I must've peeled the garlic too hard. No strength left in my hands."
"......"
Just a few cloves.
Obvious faking.
"Hey, Elma."
"Ahh, the fork weighs a ton. My wrist's gonna break."
Roll.
Her almond eyes rolled slyly.
Her gaze screamed.
'Catch on quick.'
'Tend to me already.'
Sheesh.
Fallen for it a few times, and now she's hooked.
Not that I minded.
I played along, pretending to give in.
"Come here."
I pulled my chair closer.
"Guess I have to help feed the patient."
"Oh? Really? I'm so sorry~"
Sorry tone.
Mouth corners to her ears.
Elma eagerly leaned forward.
"Say ahh~."
Mouth wide open.
Like a baby bird.
I twirled noodles on my fork.
Loaded max bacon to hold it.
"Here."
"Aaah!"
In it went.
She chewed happily.
Cheeks puffed out.
"Mmm! So good!"
Elma's eyes went wide.
Beaming smile.
Then she snatched the fork from my hand.
"Your turn now, Husband."
"Pardon?"
"This is how couples do it. Say ahh."
Elma scooped up pasta.
Her twirl surprisingly neat.
She stretched out her arm.
"Here comes the airplane~."
Short arms were the issue.
Couldn't reach across the table.
"Hup... hup......"
Cute little grunts.
Elma lifted her butt.
Finally knelt on the chair.
Leaned way over the table.
That's when.
Flop.
"......"
Men's 2XL size.
Neckline too wide.
Every time she leaned, the front gaped open.
One shoulder fully exposed.
Smooth collarbone dipping deep.
And below that.
Pale, full cleavage.
Curves defying gravity, jiggling tautly.
Pink nipples peeking assertively.
"......"
I lost my words for a moment.
"Eat quick. My arm hurts."
"Ah, yeah."
I opened my mouth in a daze.
Noodles entered.
Couldn't even taste them.
"How is it? Hmm? Good?"
Before I could swallow.
Elma pressed innocently.
Bright expression.
"Tasty?"
"......"
No way to taste it.
Sight overrode my taste buds.
"Elma."
"Yeah?"
"Your outfit's too sexy."
At my words, Elma looked down.
At her own chest.
Gaping front.
Obvious valley.
"Oh."
I expected panic.
But Elma grinned.
Licking cream from her lips.
"So what if you see."
"......Pardon?"
She leaned even further over the table.
Like, look all you want.
Breasts jiggled tautly.
"I wore it to show my man."
"......"
"Don't like it?"
"No way."
"Then enjoy."
This seductive professor.
I cleared my throat and sipped water.
Meal over.
Dishwashing time.
"I'll do it! I'm good at dishes now!"
Elma reached for the rubber gloves.
But they were too big.
Fingers flopping.
"Together. I'll wash, you rinse."
"Great! Division of labor!"
I stood at the sink.
Elma on a chair beside me.
I scrubbed and passed; she rinsed.
Squeak. Squeak.
"Husband, that spot's not clean."
"Ah, got it. Again."
"Be thorough. So sloppy."
Like a nagging mother-in-law.
Still, we synced well.
Water running. Plates clinking.
Wet forest scent mixed with nutty aroma.
Elma's warm body smell beside me.
As we finished up.
Elma got bored and started fidgeting.
Poke. Poke.
Her body bumped my arm.
Wet hand prodded my waist.
"Husband."
"Yes."
"Bored."
"Almost done."
Elma hopped down.
Circled behind me.
Squeeze.
Small arms wrapped my thighs.
Through the loose T-shirt.
Soft, springy sensation.
"Hiiiing... Tired..."
Elma whined, burying her face.
Her breasts squished against my thigh, spreading.
Springy.
Soft.
Thrilling up my spine.
"Elma. Dishes first..."
"Finish quick. Play with me."
Rub rub.
She nuzzled her cheek.
Hands roamed my waist.
"Love touching your belly."
Wet hand slipped under my T-shirt.
Cool touch on bare skin.
"Haa..."
Surrender.
I rushed the rest.
Peeled off gloves.
Turned, scooped her up.
"Kyaa!"
Elma dangled from my shoulder.
T-shirt hem dangling loose.
Like a cute ghost doll.
"Dishes done. Time to play."
"Yeah! Play with me!"
I carried her to the living room.
Sat on the sofa.
Set her facing me on my lap.
T-shirt hem draped over my knees.
Like a tent.
"So, what'll we play?"
"Hmm..."
Elma tapped her finger to her lips.
Pretending to think.
Staring up at me.
Eyes mixed mischief and desire.