Noticing the intensity of his gaze, the busty girl quickly untied her apron, a deep blush blooming across her pretty features.
Rosa, still carrying the tender afterglow of their earlier intimacy, had changed into a slim-fitting dark blue top that lovingly traced the generous curve of her breasts. Her lower half remained in the crisp white pleated skirt, her slender, shapely legs sheathed in glossy black stockings. There was something different about her now—a subtle, burgeoning maturity that softened her usual pure-cuteness into something more alluring.
"S-so, big brother... would you like dinner first, or would you like—"
Watching her stand there, flustered and radiant, Wade didn't need a moment's hesitation. Only children made such choices. A grown man knew better.
"I'll have both. Dinner. And Rosa."
"Mmm... Big brother is so greedy~"
At his honest reply, Rosa's head dipped further, her fingers nervously pleating the hem of her thin top.
A soft instruction, and she complied.
She lowered herself gracefully, her round, firm bottom lifted high, the short pleated skirt riding up to the plush curve of her thighs. Where the tantalizing edge of her black stockings met bare skin, a sliver of creamy softness beckoned—the kind that made one yearn to press close and leave her breathless.
"Meowth~"
Skitty, happily nibbling a Poffin, looked up at the soft sounds. Her tiny head tilted in genuine curiosity. There was Sister Rosa, her face flushed like a summer sunset, her slender fingers gathering the hem of her dark blue top to reveal the breathtaking, pale swell of her breasts. She began to knead them gently, pressing downward with deliberate care.
Eh?
The kitten's beautiful eyes blinked. Is this a new way Sister Rosa drinks her milk?
Before her, Rosa's delicate back was bared—smooth, fair, dusted with the faintest blush of pink. She parted her cherry-red lips and brought the plush, snow-white mound to her mouth, her tongue swirling in slow, languid circles.
Beneath her, the tender petals stirred, trembling in echo.
To the watching cat girl, Rosa's movements were like endless, hypnotic waves of snow—dizzying, mesmerizing, beautiful.
"A-ah... mmph... I-is... mm... is this... right...?"
The girl struggled to form words, her mouth so full. Crystal-bright moisture, caught between heat and pressure, escaped the tight seal of her lips and trailed slowly down the pale curve of her chest. Rosa's brows drew together, not in pain, but in that particular, flustered embarrassment of trying something so new, so intimate, for the very first time.
"You're doing wonderfully, Rosa. Truly."
Wade's voice was a low, gentle hum of approval. His fingers carded through her soft, silken hair, and the simple praise made her heart flutter. She was already so close—seventy percent of the way there, perhaps. Enough to make his breath catch.
He looked down, past her charmingly flustered expression, to the full, plush softness she offered. Her skin was luminous, as though dusted with crushed pearl powder.
Each gentle press and knead transmitted an exquisite sensation of warmth, of yielding smoothness.
A few moments later, Wade's fingers found the ribbon in her hair. With a soft tug, Rosa's cute bun-style pigtails came loose. Her brownish hair, fine as heavenly silk, spilled over her snowy shoulders. The mature cascade, combined with her flushed cheeks, added an unexpected, irresistible seductiveness.
"Meow~"
Skitty's eyes grew hazy. She blinked, then looked down at her half-eaten Poffin.
...It doesn't taste as good anymore.
"Gurgle, gurgle—"
After a time, Rosa's delicate brows knit together. Her mouth, so patiently occupied, was stretched full. A sudden, surging warmth flooded her waiting lips.
She arched her swan-like neck, desperate to swallow every drop of this offering. But there was too much; her small throat could not contain it all. A pale trickle escaped the corner of her lips, trailing down to stain the dark blue fabric of her top.
Rosa's eyes shimmered, misty with regret. Not just for the waste—but because—
"Since you couldn't finish it all, you must face the consequences."
The farm owner, ever impartial, gestured to her dampened clothes and the small pool on the floor. His tone was gentle, but firm.
"Wuu... big brother..."
The girl's pout was utterly endearing. Her cheeks burning, she lifted the hem of her pleated skirt and, with exquisite hesitation, lowered herself slowly onto Wade's lap.
A moment later.
"B-big brother... I... I can't go on anymore..."
Rosa was cradled tenderly against him now, the full, pale moons of her chest exposed to the cool air, then warmed again by his careful touch.
"You mustn't give up halfway," he murmured, steadfast in his duties. "We agreed. The punishment is to finish this bowl of soup."
A sharp, crisp sound echoed—his palm meeting the plush, upturned curve of her buttock in gentle admonishment.
"Wuu... th-that's too mean, big brother~"
Rosa's face burned. Her slender frame trembled, unable to suppress the shiver that coursed through her. Between her thighs, now pressed demurely together, a warmth flickered to life—teasing, patient, insistent.
She twisted her waist in instinctive appeal, seeking to close the impossible distance. But the farm owner's deliberate pacing kept them suspended, two magnets held apart by an unseen hand, their infinite pull denied. The ache of it made Rosa's heart flutter in frantic, helpless rhythm.
"Come now. This is the soup you made tonight, Rosa. Drink."
Wade dipped a porcelain spoon into the steaming broth and brought it gently to her lips.
"Mm... okay~"
Eager to fulfill her task, Rosa parted her cherry lips and began to sip the warm liquid from the curved edge.
The moment the soup touched her tongue, another heat—fiercer, more urgent—drew near.
Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the plush softness gripping Wade's hand more tightly.
"B-big brother... that's cheating~"
Her pearl-white teeth caught her lower lip. Her swan-like neck arched, small, pleading sounds escaping her throat.
It was only a small bowl, no larger than her palm. Yet each sip stretched endlessly, suspended in exquisite tension.
This... this—
A searing warmth bloomed through her, sudden and complete.
"Mmf—ah! A-ahhh!"
How is anyone supposed to finish a meal like this?!
Morning of the Fourth Day.
After several days of being tenderly "cultivated," Rosa and the Pokémon Girls lay in languid repose across the bed, a gallery of graceful, spent forms.
"Good... Good morning, big brother~"
Rosa, now thoroughly and sweetly shaped by Wade's affections, lifted her head like a contented kitten. She nuzzled against his chest, her soft hair a silken whisper against his skin.
"Good morning, Rosa."
He answered with a gentle kiss pressed to her smooth, fair cheek.
The past days had been veiled in heavy rain. They had kept to the warmth of the cabin, venturing out only when Gardevoir's Psychic erected a shimmering barrier against the downpour—just long enough to tend to the Miltank in their shed.
With no other entertainment to occupy them, Wade had devoted himself to the pleasant labor of "cultivation."
The results, he reflected, were manifold.
Beyond the catalog of shared discoveries and the quiet symphony of sighs that now filled the farmhouse, his system had rewarded him generously. In just a few days, he had elevated every Miltank's [Juicy] trait to purple rank and supplemented each with the blue-rank [Healer] ability.
The impact was immediate and substantial.
Weekly raw milk production had surged from approximately five tons to fifteen. Both yield and quality had undergone a remarkable transformation. And through the daily regimen of carefully prepared Poffins, the Miltank themselves had flourished—no longer the petite, fragile creatures Akane had first entrusted to him, but robust, thriving partners.
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