护士奶头又大又软又好摸

"Now, now, dear, you have to make sure to eat all your food first. You can’t fight on an empty stomach."

A smiling Fuku gently chastised her husband who followed her orders instructions as though he were her child.

Gengyo was enjoying his meal as well, envisioning the success of his plan. He only hoped that his father was as skilled as he had boasted, otherwise, all this planning would have been for nought.

Rin kept stealing rice from Gengyo’s bowl, though her bowl was still full.

When asked what she was doing, a rather odd "it tastes better like this" came in reply. At which he could only shake his head and deal with it. Little sisters were meant to be a bit of a pain at times, were they not?

...

...

The family passed many people on their road into the village, and the reactions to their presence were varied.

"Good luck Miura-san! Make the village proud!"

Is what the majority called out, hoping to secure favour should the fight go well.

Others simply remained silent, not wanting to offend either side.

Though it was not like any kind of reaction could have dampened Morohira’s spirit. He marched in front, urging his family onwards.

"Come on you lot, we’re going to be late!"

Fuku was carrying a basket with a few small jars of water in, and some rice balls. She was going all out to make sure that her husband had everything he needed in order to fight to the best of his ability.

The children had been made to wash, and put on clean clothes so that they would be at their best when presented to the villagers.

Gengyo had gazed at his cleaned-up sister with a degree of curiosity, comparing her appearance to Akiko.

He realized that she was a good deal smaller than Akiko, and with her darker hair, but her beauty had a different sort of charm to it. Akiko was without a doubt a beautiful lady, whereas Rin was more a wild type. She was cute at times, but was tomboyish in her mannerisms.

’The husband that gets Rin will have an exciting life.’

Though exciting was an umbrella word, for she could quite as easily turn his life upside down as she could lead him on all sorts of adventures.

...

...

When they arrived at the market place, it was already bustling with a couple of hundred villagers, and was thusly rather packed.

Master Niwa had made good on his promise, and a wooden arena - standing about half a metre off the ground – had been erected. It was around the size of your average boxing ring, and square-shaped similarly.

There were two large wooden seats elevated alongside the arena, with one being occupied by the master.

Next to him, he spied a familiar swan, once more dressed in a white yukata, though this time it was a pure white, without an artist’s drawings adorning it.

Her brown hair was tied up, with a hairpin through it, and it shone in the flickering torchlight, telling tales of the effort put in by her maids beforehand.

She was undoubtedly beautiful, and he could hear the young men in the village talking about her as he passed.

On that front, he could not help but feel a little privileged, for he knew who the swan was behind the feathers.

They were recognised immediately by the crowd.

"Oi! It’s Miura!"

"Finally!"

The crowd parted to allow them through. Noticing this, the master glanced over.

"Oh, young Miura, welcome! Is this your family then?"

He called over, and Gengyo walked closer before answering.

"Yes, Niwa-san. This is my father, Morohira, my mother, Fuku, my older brother Masaatsu, and my little sister, Rin."

"Very good. Come on up, then, and we’ll get this fight underway."

He gestured toward a wooden bench that had been positioned beside the two chairs. It could be considered a great honour, for the master was putting them on the same level as him.

"Thank you, Niwa-san."

Gengyo took the lead, and ascended the stairs that lead to the arena.

He bowed his head lightly in greeting to Akiko as he did so, for the sake of politeness.

"Good evening lady Niwa. I hope you are well?"

She smiled lightly, feeling a rush of energy from the secret they shared as she pretended otherwise.

"Good evening, Miura-kun. I am, thanks to you."

Her father, knowing a ’truth’ behind this exchange maintained his smile, but the same could not be said for Gengyo’s family.

They stared at him curiously, wondering what kind of relationship he held with the highly esteemed master’s young daughter.

Rin’s gaze contained a hint of aggression as she offered the young lady a smile.

’This stupid noble trying to seduce my Nii-san...’

The rest of the family offered their respects to the master, and then it came Morohira’s turn.

Niwa glanced at the man calculatedly, and could not help but feel a stab of disappointment.

’The man who we’ve pinned our hopes of winning on is already covered in bruises?’

"Good to meet you Miura-kun. Your son has told me much about you. You’re a brave man to take on your opponent under such conditions."

Morohira scratched the back of his head embarrassedly as he received praise from the master.

"I will do my best to give you an entertaining fight, lord."

The master nodded, no longer expecting much from him.

Gengyo glanced around the crowd, searching for someone.

"Niwa-san, has Kyougoku arrived yet?"

"He has. He arrived about 15 minutes ago, but he’s eating it seems."

The conversation ground to a halt and an awkward silence reigned. The rest of the family felt too uncomfortable in the presence of the master to speak, whilst Gengyo sat in thought.

Niwa Nakatane felt none of that tension however, only acute boredom. His fingers tapped against the arm of the chair – as was his habit – and he willed the events to move faster. It had been a while since he had last journeyed out, due to some of the recent affairs he had to attend with, and whilst he was here he was determined to release as much of his pent up stress as he could.

He rekindled the conversation with the youth beside him, searching for some way to combat his boredom.

"Young Miura, you work in my fields, correct?"

"Indeed, Niwa-san."

"How do you find it?"

"It is good, honest work, and the overseer – Baba-san – is fair and honest."

Nakatane nodded. It was a neutral response, but what else could the boy have said? No one is openly going to complain about their job to the employer, especially when their financial situation is as dire as that of a peasant.

He led the topic of conversation elsewhere, trying to probe the character of the boy who had orchestrated this entire occasion.

"War is on the horizon."

"It does seem that way."

Another neutral response. There was neither fear nor delight upon his face. It was as though he viewed it to be trivial.

Of course, for Gengyo, it was quite the opposite. He viewed it more as a chore, and a step in the wrong direction.

"It should be a good opportunity for us. The Oda are weak. Are you not excited at the prospect of getting some of the spoils? It might be a chance for you to earn some good coin."

Gengyo turned and glanced at Nakatane in the eye. There were so many things in that statement that he disagreed with that he was having trouble where to start.

"I do not care for coin."

’Empty words. What man, especially a man who is not of coin, does not want more of it?’

"Nor do I think it is wise to look down on the Oda. Their Daiymo is young and untested, and most see that as our assurance in victory. But does that not also mean that we do not know what he is capable of? There is a good chance that the boy is a genius, and he will lead his troops to victory."

His fingers ceased their tapping, and he stared back at the youth in surprise. He did not think that he would have this much of an opinion on military matters.

"...There are many that would call you a coward for such a comment."

Gengyo scoffed.

"Let them. I will be fighting all the same. But it is a foolish man who rushes recklessly into battle, even when he holds the advantage."

"You don’t think we can defeat the Oda?"

"Oh, without a doubt we are capable of it. But the thing everyone seems to be overlooking, is that the same is true for them."

Nakatane leaned back in his chair, and looked upwards.

’To think I would be discussing military philosophy with a peasant...’

Despite feeling that dull sense of absurdity, he saw the wisdom in the words that were spoken. He was not a warmongering man, though in his youth he had achieved personal commendation by the Daimyo for his exploits on the battlefield.

Gengyo spotted a figure walking through the crowd towards them.

"It appears the opposition has arrived."

"Hoo! You’re right! Let’s get going then."

Morohira had noticed too, and had stood up and begun stretching his arms out, before rolling his neck.

Kyougoku climbed the platform, with a wooden bokken in the belt of his stylish kimono. He was dressed rather well for a peasant.

He stood oddly tall for a Japanese man, with a height that was at least above six foot. He was around a head taller than Morohira, and had a good deal more muscle mass besides, with a shiny bald head.

From appearances alone – with Morohira covered in bruises, and Kyougoku looking like a medieval body builder – the fight was a done deal.

"Kyougoku, you bastard! Do you know what I’ve had to put up with because of the lies you spread about me?"

Morohira was fired up, shouting across the arena with a vein bulging on his neck.

Kyougoku drew his wooden sword, resting it upon his shoulder before twisting his face arrogantly.

"Hah? Lies? But you’re Miura the cheat. Everyone knows that."

The crowd were shouting all sorts of vulgarities as well, though they all came together to form a combined mass of incomprehensiveness.

Simply from his actions and the suffocating arrogance that he portrayed, even Gengyo felt the urge to punch him.

"Your father can beat him, right?"

Nakatane was seething as though it was his honour that had been challenged. It seemed that the arrogant brute had gotten under his skin too.

"I hope so."

"You f.u.c.k.i.n.g bastard! I’m going to beat you so much worse than you beat me. I’ll make you wish that you had killed me back then."

"Ha? But I did beat you, didn’t I? What makes you think you can beat me now?"

These words were for the crowd. This man was an entertainer, and one that seemed to be confident in his victory.

Even Gengyo was unsure at this point. His father had not exactly proved to be a reliable man in the short time that he had known him.

He could only hope that his words held some amount of truth.

’I’ve done all I can old man... The rest is up to you.’