Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Five Meals a Day
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“No way you’re this excited, are you?”
“No.”
“Liar. Your heart’s pounding like crazy.”
Right on the mark.
My heart thumped wildly, like it was about to burst through my shirt.
“For an undergrad to have these kinds of feelings toward a professor. How irreverent. I should commend you for it.”
Elma spun around on my lap, now facing me directly.
Our gazes locked.
“Finish all this.”
She pointed at the remaining pizza.
“We’ve gotta have dessert too, right?”
Elma’s eyes took on a strangely sultry glint.
What ‘dessert’ meant.
Of course I knew.
But had she gotten shy after suggesting it herself?
Her face flushed red in an instant.
Like a thermometer.
Thirsty, maybe?
She grabbed the cola bottle.
Tilted her head back and gulped it down.
“Pffah-!”
She wiped her mouth contentedly with the back of her hand.
Opened her mouth to say something else.
“So, my dear hu—mmph?!”
A loud rumble.
It was a burp.
“……”
“……”
Silence.
The steamy mood shattered to pieces.
Elma’s face froze.
Mouth agape.
Pupils drifting aimlessly.
Her flushed cheeks drained to a muddy pallor.
“W-Well… that can happen. Right?”
“No!!!”
Before I could smooth things over.
Elma shrieked at the top of her lungs.
“Th-This isn’t a burp!”
“You just drank cola.”
“I said it’s not! Th-This is… mana reflux!”
Utter nonsense.
Her frantic hands waved wildly in denial.
“F-For a noble dwarf mage like me, sugar collides with my bodily enzymes and… anyway, that’s it!”
“Sounds like a burp to me.”
“Accept it! Just accept it! Do you have a PhD? No? I do! Four of them! And you, some undergrad without even a bachelor’s yet, daring to question a doctoral holder?!”
“You called me ‘husband’ a minute ago.”
“Th-That’s because…”
She huffed and puffed, nostrils flaring.
Finally, she slumped with a pathetic “Ugh…”
“No filter in front of the new bride… really…”
Her quivering lips looked utterly aggrieved.
“Hey, a burp’s no big deal. I don’t mind at all. Happens when you eat sometimes.”
“Shut up! It’s not a burp! It’s mana reflux!”
Her stubborn denial was a sight to behold.
It was so cute, a chuckle slipped out.
“Don’t laugh!”
“I didn’t.”
“Y-Your lip twitched just now!”
Smack.
She lightly slapped my cheek.
More ticklish than painful.
“F-Forget it. Forget what you just heard. Got it? If you don’t, I’ll get memory-erasing potion from my pharmacist friend. Side effects are brutal.”
“Yes. Got it. Mana… whatever…”
“Mana reflux!”
“Right. Mana reflux.”
“……Good. As long as you get it.”
One burp and she’s ready to violate controlled substance laws.
I didn’t want to end up on the society pages.
I meekly pretended to buy it.
“……”
“……”
A brief silence.
Elma cleared her throat awkwardly and picked up a pizza slice.
Chewing vigorously, like she was swallowing the embarrassment too.
Her cheeks puffed out like a hamster’s.
She snuck a glance at me while munching.
Eyes full of shame.
But she couldn’t suppress her appetite.
A trail of drool trickled from the corner of her mouth.
Cute little glutton.
To think this adorable creature was my wife.
“Eat slowly. Don’t want another reflux.”
“Mmph! Mmmph!”
Elma glared and raised a tiny fist.
Mouth stuffed with pizza, she could only huff.
I giggled and patted her back.
“You’ll get the hiccups.”
“Nngh…”
She swallowed with effort and haughtily turned away.
“Hmph. If you weren’t my husband, you’d be ashes by now.”
“I’m honored.”
“And I’m taking back what I said earlier.”
“Dessert?”
“Yeah! You ruined the mood. Take responsibility.”
Elma grumbled as she snuggled into my arms.
But her eyes stayed glued to the pizza box.
“I’ll fill up my belly first and think about it later.”
“Aren’t you full? It’s family size.”
“What’re you talking about? Don’t you know about five meals a day?”
“…Five meals a day? Japanese?”
“What? You barbarian. Five meals. A day. Common sense.”
Elma spread all five fingers emphatically.
“I’ve only had two today! Gotta make up the other three! I was starving to death, jeez.”
“……Pardon?”
At my reaction, Elma tilted her head.
“What? Humans don’t do five meals?”
“Usually three a day. That’s why we call it three square meals.”
Silence.
“……”
“……”
Her fingers froze midair.
“……Three… square meals?”
“Yeah. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. That’s it.”
Elma’s face heated up again.
This time, she’d outed herself as a pig too.
“L-Liar!”
“It’s true.”
“No way! Guys built like mountains surviving on just three meals? Makes no sense!”
“We’ve got good fuel efficiency.”
“……”
“Humans are just dumb!”
Her lips trembled violently.
Shame overload.
She let out a wail and punched my stomach.
“Oof.”
This one stung a bit.
Tiny hands concentrate the impact.
“Y-Yeah! You know how the brain uses the most energy? Us dwarves are way smarter than humans, that’s why!”
“Sure, sure. I’ll say that.”
“And! Dwarves have tons of muscle! It’s not ‘cause I’m a pig!”
Elma flexed her arm.
…Still looked soft.
Would feel nice to squeeze.
But I held back.
Well-done’s no good.
“Got it. Eat up. Gotta fuel that brain. You’re a professor.”
“Right! Right! Good you get it!”
Elma huffed as she readjusted her position.
Her tiny ribcage bore disproportionately massive breasts that jiggled.
All those calories must’ve gone there.
Good.
I picked up another slice.
For my beloved big-titted dwarf wife, mouth agape like a baby bird.
The pizza box was empty.
Elma scraped the last crumbs with the crust and devoured them thoroughly.
She licked the greasy corners of her mouth with her tiny tongue.
“Haa… so good~”
She half-closed her eyes and patted her belly contentedly.
“Urp-!”
This time, she didn’t hold back.
Feeling my gaze, Elma brazenly puffed out her chest.
“Burping between spouses is normal!”
“Oh…”
“It’s a dwarf compliment! Not expressing satisfaction after good food insults the maker!”
“Is that so?”
“Yes!”
Ah, I see.
Burping as a couple thing.
She probably thought of it as ‘letting out a satisfied burp’ alone.
“So you do it too! You’re family with a dwarf now! Gotta get used to this!”
“W-Wait! Get off!”
Elma started poking my belly repeatedly.
Like ‘you too.’
Just like a cat kneading.
“Alright. Belly’s full now.”
Elma wriggled on my lap.
She readjusted her position.
Facing me again, her eyes were deadly serious.
“Time for dessert?”
“Dessert? Want me to run to the convenience store?”
“You blockhead. Idiot? Forgot what I said earlier?”
Elma shook her head vigorously.
Her lush twintails danced.
Her almond eyes grew misty.
She lifted her hips and scooted closer.
Tiny hands gripped my collar.
“The ‘real’ dessert.”
Her gaze drifted slowly downward.
I knew what she meant.
“Hey, Elma. Aren’t you full? You ate most of that family size.”
She’d scarfed 80%.
Sex right away would give her cramps.
“Doesn’t matter. Dwarf stomachs are tough.”
“Still, moving right after might hurt.”
“Sh-Shut up! Keep ruining the mood with practical talk?”
Elma yelled and thumped my chest.
“I’m trying to set the atmosphere here… husband.”
The last word in a tiny, creeping voice.
Pretending to be bold, but dripping with shyness.
She panted, taking deep breaths.
“Just stay still, husband.”
Her hands went to her shoulders.
The thin negligee strap.
Hooked on her fingertip.
“I’ll take care of everything from here.”
Slipping down.
The translucent silk slid off.
Her naked body revealed.
“……!”
Small.
Shoulders, back, waist.
Fragile enough to fit in one hand.
Yet overwhelmingly voluptuous.
Petite frame overflowing with pale, heavy curves.
Freckles sprinkled across wheat-colored skin.
Jiggle.
Her breasts swayed elastically.
Crowned with shy pink tips.
“H-How’s it… look?”
Elma half-hid her chest with her arms in an ambiguous pose.
Unsure where to look?
Her eyes darted around.
“Still… decent, right?”
Destructive.
Maturity unbelievable for her 90cm height.
The smaller the frame, the more intensely concentrated the allure.
She meant to downplay it, but she was right.
It was pure .zip
‘Compression.’
That’s what this was.
“Yes. You’re gorgeous…”
The honest truth.
“Hmph. Obviously. It’s my body.”
Buoyed by the praise.
She dropped her arms.
Thrust out her chest proudly.
“Your turn now, husband.”
“My turn?”
“On our wedding night, it’s rude for the husband to stay dressed.”
Elma grabbed the hem of my see-through training suit.
Her golem No. 2 masterpiece.
“Stay still. I’ll handle it, husband.”
The perfect wife.
“A proper dwarf wife serves her husband like a king in the bedroom, you know? So you’ll be pleased…”
Her words trailed off as she placed a hand on my stomach.
Small, callused palm.
Rough and hot.
“Arms up.”
“Okay.”
Elma struggled to pull off my top.
Her short arms straining pitifully.
Off it came.
My upper body bare.
“Hmm…”
Her eyes scanned my abs.
She smacked her lips in satisfaction.
“Pass. My eye for this stuff’s spot on. Nice and solid.”
Phew.
Home workouts paid off.
Her hand reached lower.
“Then, pardon me. Husband.”
Her head bowed.
Twintails swaying.
Her face hovered over my crotch.
A wave of her scent—nutty and sweet.
Her unique aroma.
Tiny hands slipped into my waistband.
Trembling.
Youngest professor, genius engineer, department head, psycho.
All those titles, but still an inexperienced virgin.
Her tension transmitted through my skin.
I swallowed hard.
‘She’s really doing this?’
Here?
On this basement sofa?
Well, we’re married, so fine?
Elma fumbled to pull down my pants.
“Hang on… why won’t this come down…”
Just tug it off.
But nerves made it tricky.
She scowled and strained.
“Nngh… hup…”
Grunting.
“Nnn…”
The sounds faded.
Her touch slowed.
“Elma?”
Her hand on my pants stopped.
Head drooped.
Forehead planted on my lower belly.
“Professor?”
Silence.
Then.
“……Snore.”
“……?”
Misheard?
I doubted my ears.
“Snore… sigh…”
Rhythmic breathing.
Tiny shoulders rising and falling.
Her breath tickled below my navel.
“……What.”
Asleep?
Right now?