Chapter 543 Cross-Cultural Exchange ②
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Shall we take them off, then?”
”…!”
Nada, the guest from the Southern Continent, nods slowly, unable to find the words. Her clothes are essentially our own style—likely prepared after she arrived here—save for one piece of cloth draped over her left shoulder that is unmistakably from her home.
”…That is a beautiful fabric.”
”I, is it?”
”I imagine back home, it might be used to cover one’s head or for various other purposes?”
”You truly are learned… Or was that just a sharp inference?”
”Both, perhaps. It looked convenient, and you seemed to cherish it quite dearly.”
I folded the cloth reverently as we spoke. Respect is vital. Thanks to that, I was able to peel away her garments with remarkable smoothness.
”Beautiful…”
”……”
As I removed her shirt, I couldn’t help but exhale a sigh. Nada’s skin tone is on the darker side, and it’s exquisite. That color, shimmering under the light, continued beneath her clothes. Naturally, one can’t help but be curious about what lies beyond.
A simple bra—or perhaps I should call it a breast-wrap? I slowly unraveled the simple grey cloth. What appeared were healthy, perfectly shaped curves. Her dark skin flowed seamlessly, leading to even darker tips.
”Oh…!”
”……”
She didn’t react to my exclamation of wonder. Instead, she seemed to be watching me with a trace of trepidation. I had to reassure her immediately. I cupped them in both hands and buried my face into them. The ancient, time-honored stance of “self-puff-puff.”1
Soft. Warm. Truly, there is no high or low among breasts. I took a deep, heavy breath. The dizzying, musky scent of a woman. The faint, sweet smell of her sweat. I pushed her breasts together from both sides, grinding my face against them, rubbing my cheeks into her, pressing my ear close to hear the frantic, rhythmic thrumming of her heart.
”H, Harvest-kyou…!”
”My apologies, I couldn’t help myself…”
She finally called out to me, perhaps unable to bear the intensity. I pulled back to look at her properly. She looked up at me, wearing an expression that suggested she was torn between surprise and pleasure.
”…Was I, was I too voracious?”
”Yes, I suppose I was.”
”I, I do not dislike it, but we are still… in the middle of this.”
”…Indeed, you’re right.”
Without correcting my phrasing, I reached out. As I kneaded her, I began to remove her lower garments. I had her lift her hips, and my eyes were immediately stolen by her simple undergarments—though I was quickly forced to focus on the dazzling, dark skin of her thighs.
I pulled her trousers off from her feet and immediately moved back in. I placed my hands on her hips and stripped away the underwear, which was already stained at the center. A thread of her nectar trailed out. The vertical line running down her dark skin, and the pink, seductive flesh peeking out from within…
”…!”
Regrettably, that sight was quickly hidden by her tightly closed thighs. That was fine; in their place, her lustrous knees appeared before me, and I couldn’t help but give one a quick lick. Of course, she pulled it back immediately.
”Ah, ah… I suppose it would be strange to tell you not to look…”
”I don’t mind. If you feel embarrassed, that just adds to the fire.”
”I, is that how it works…?”
”Yes, that’s exactly how it works.”
I said it with a bright smile, though I couldn’t be sure how she perceived it. She frantically covered her face, curling up in a ball at the edge of the bed.
(Heh. What a treat. She doesn’t seem to realize that the very lines of her shins and feet are enough to excite a man.) After a while, she peeked up at me and said:
”Harvest-kyou, are you not… going to take off your own clothes?”
”Oh? Are you interested in my body?”
”Yes.”
Her calm response caught me off guard. I don’t know if this is a cultural difference or just her personality, but it’s hard to read where her “shame” switch is located. No matter. There’s no way I’d say no to a beautiful, naked woman asking to see me.
”Then, if you’ll excuse me…”
She watched me strip with eyes peeking from over her knees. Though, when I moved to take off my underwear, she leaned forward. …She’s surprisingly the “repressed” type.
”It really is white, isn’t it…”
”Is it? I actually thought I had a bit of a tan.”
”No, it’s white. Look, you can tell if you compare them, can’t you?”
With immense curiosity, Nada reached out, patting my chest. She took my arm to compare the colors and checked the firmness of my muscles. It seems she’d completely forgotten the embarrassment of having her own body looked at.
Given that attitude, my “Ddo-Buddy” surged with energy. Well, it was already at full attention, but the sight of her dark, beautiful fruit made it swell even more.
”Ah…”
”…Would you like to check this out, too?”
”I, is it allowed?”
”Of course. Please, see for yourself just how voracious I am for you.”
”Ah, ah…”
This time, she reached out with clear sexual intent. She wrapped both hands around me, stroking me with a strangely reverent touch. It felt incredible, and there was a peculiar rush of excitement, but wasn’t she being a little too polite…?
”So, this is the ‘Serrawo’ of the North’s… ‘Ochinpo’. Just how many ‘Yofushiyaji’ have you sipped from…”
Ah, right. I remember now—she seems to harbor a deep respect for my history with women. Nada stroked my shaft with a dreamy look on her face. …Is she a closet pervert after all?
”By the way, what was ‘Yofushiyaji’ again?”
”Eh? Ah, I am sorry. That is, the thing. T, that which flows from a woman’s crotch…”
”Ah, was that what you stained your underwear with earlier, Nada?”
”Ugh…. Y, yes. That. What do you call it here…?”
”I believe we call it ‘Love-Nectar.’”
”Ah, Love-Nectar. Understood. …By the way, what do you call that white thing that comes from the Ochinpo?”
”That would be ‘Ochinpo Milk.’”
”Ochinpo Milk. I understand.”
Yeah, sorry about that. My conscience pricked me, and I hurriedly taught her the formal term. Naturally, she accepted it without a hint of doubt, muttering, “Seminal fluid, I have learned it.” I don’t think she’ll have many chances to use that word with anyone other than me, though…
Actually, no. She is undoubtedly trying to learn it for my sake. Because, she continued by saying this:
”What is the difference between Ochinpo Milk and Seminal fluid?”
”Ah, well, I apologize… ‘Ochinpo Milk’ is perhaps a bit more… vulgar…”
”…I see. Does Ochinpo Milk… taste more voracious…?”
”…Yes, I suppose it does. It’s incredibly exciting…”
”I see. Then I shall try my best so that you can release plenty of Ochinpo Milk.”
This woman is hopeless. Her words and actions are just too erotic, one after the other. It’s likely just a cultural difference, but the contrast between her resolve and her bashfulness is… well, it’s dangerous for my c**k. Or maybe, it’s perfect?
”Ugh…”
”Whoops, the ‘Kapo-shiri’ is… My apologies, I will lick it off now.”
”Eh!?”
My brain was fried by her incredibly earnest, erotic declaration. When a bit of pre-c*m overflowed, Nada saw it and, without a moment’s hesitation, licked it right up. She even sucked on the tip, adding a soft, wet chup sound to the mix.
”Whoa…”
”Mmm… Did I, did I do something wrong…? I heard that licking up the spilled ‘Kapo-shiri’ was a matter of etiquette…”
”N, no. It’s just… it’s incredibly erotic.”
”What does ‘erotic’ mean?”
”Ah… it means… it makes me want to be even more voracious…”
”I see. To be found suitable for a ‘Serrawo’s’ discerning eye… what a great honor.”
Nada smiled and giggled, looking bashful. Only one thing can be said: Cultural exchange is the best!
—
Summary:
Harvest facilitates an intimate cultural exchange with his guest, Nada, by undressing her and exploring her anatomy. Nada exhibits a mix of bashful curiosity and eager receptiveness, adopting terminology Harvest provides for various sexual fluids and acts. The encounter concludes with a mutually satisfying physical interaction that bridges their cultural divide through erotic exploration.
—
Trivia:
Nada is from the Southern Continent.
Nada is making a conscious effort to learn Harvest’s terminology for sexual acts, even when the terms are vulgar.
The term ‘Serrawo’ appears to be a regional or cultural descriptor for the protagonist.
’Kapo-shiri’ is established as a cultural term for pre-c*m.
—
Translation Notes:
Notes:
• Jin – A middle‑aged man in a crisp shirt and glasses, owner of an adult‑goods shop, swamped by managerial duties and trade negotiations, secretly visits Carley with the intent of impregnating her.
• Ray – A Viscount with flaxen-gold hair in a men’s wolf cut. Possesses a sweet mask and a prince-like aura. It is revealed at the end that Ray is actually a woman. She has started manufacturing and selling adult goods similar to Kento’s products in the Royal Capital’s pleasure district.
• Nada – A tall, slender Southern Continent envoy visiting the kingdom with a royal delegation. She has dark skin, glossy black hair, and sharp almond eyes. Deeply devoted to her master, she balances a blank diplomatic façade with a curious, slightly naive nature, vulgar slang, and a penchant for fist-bumping. While exploring Canarias and engaging in a sensual awakening with the protagonist, she remains highly knowledgeable about trade, administration, and sand-based geography.
• Harvest – Viscount Kento Harvest is a gaunt, pragmatic former adventurer and merchant operating an adult magic-circuit and goods shop. Clad in a tattered academic coat, he uses low-mana circuits to command Academy systems, serves as a regional informant/guide, and holds authentic noble authority. Sexually proactive, he maintains multiple lovers, slaves, and children while exploring cultural differences.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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