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Let Us Tread the Path of Wicked Elegance — Part 3


In my past life, I was what one might call a kare-sen (a term for those attracted to older men).

Because my father had passed away young, I developed a deep admiration for older male figures. Over time, this admiration grew into romantic preference.

As the years went by, my tastes became increasingly particular.

It wasn’t enough for a man to simply be older; he needed to take care of his appearance and exude maturity.

And yet, signs of effort to counteract the relentless march of aging—like a well-groomed style—were absolutely irresistible to me.

Most importantly, he needed to be deeply loving and value his family.

Naturally, men like that were always already married.

So I’d suffer countless unspoken heartbreaks, knowing I couldn’t destroy a family for my feelings. Instead, I’d escape into the world of otome games, where young, handsome men could briefly captivate me. But in real life, they always seemed like children compared to older men.

Experience makes all the difference, doesn’t it?

As I watched my husband snoring loudly beside me, my eyes softened with fondness.

Our first night together had been unforgettable.

There was a certain… intensity to his touch that younger men could never replicate.

While some might find it repulsive, I adored it.

As I inhaled the faint smell of old age near his ear, I lovingly stroked his plump, middle-aged belly.

“Grrraaa… grrraaa… huh? Celestine? What is it?”

“Did I wake you, my lord? I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.”

My husband looked bewildered at my naked form nestled against him.

“Last night was wonderful.”

“Was it? Your youthful body was marvelous, too. After all, a virgin is best!”

He chuckled heartily, his belly jiggling, while I absentmindedly stroked it.

Though his words were the worst, even that foolishness seemed endearing. Honestly, no matter his age, he was just a big child.

…It’s no use. I’ve completely merged with my past-life self. Combined with the sharp personality of my current life, I’ve become an incomprehensible woman.

And yet, I didn’t dislike this feeling, which made it all the worse.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. But, my lord, I won’t tolerate you loving anyone but me in the future.”

“Gahahaha! For now, I’m completely infatuated with you. Though, knowing my fickle nature, who knows how long it’ll last?”

I kissed the small beard above his double chin, and my husband stopped laughing, his eyes—buried in folds of flesh—widening.

“Adorable husband. You must stay infatuated with me forever.”

“…Alright.”

Satisfied with his reluctant nod, I leaned closer to his ample chest.

If this perfect man lacked one thing, it was love.

As my husband, he had to cherish me forever, deeply and completely.

There would be no other women—such behavior was absolutely forbidden. I’d make sure of it.

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