Naruto-ReBorn as a Baker

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Chapter 251: Another Day in the Village

As the warm breeze of the Hidden Leaf Village caressed the streets, Malik meandered through the village with a leisurely grace that belied his usual somewhat lazy but frenetic energy. Returning to the familiarity of the village, with its bustling markets and serene paths, brought a subtle smile to his face. Yet, beneath his casual demeanor, his mind buzzed with the extensive list of tasks awaiting him at his mansion—administrative duties, culinary experiments, and endless planning for future ventures. The thought was exhausting, but for now, he was content to push it aside and simply wander.

As he strolled, the villagers couldn't help but whisper among themselves. Malik's presence was always a topic of interest, his wealth and lifestyle subjects of both admiration and curiosity. "Have you seen Malik today? He looks like he hasn't got a care in the world!" one villager remarked to another as they watched him pass by a fruit stall, picking up an apple and inspecting it with a connoisseur's eye.

"He's so rich, yet he walks around like one of us," another chimed in, her voice tinged with a mix of envy and respect. "Imagine what his mansion must be like!"

Groups of villagers gathered in small clusters, their conversation turning to his culinary skills—a legend in their community. "I've heard his cooking could make you weep with joy. If only he'd host a tasting for us all," a young man said wistfully, his friends nodding in agreement.

Others commented on his looks with a mixture of jest and earnest admiration. "Not only can he cook, but have you seen those eyes? If he looked at me that way, I'd forget my own name!" a woman laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as her friends giggled.

Malik, overhearing snippets of their conversations, chose not to engage but rather savored the simplicity of the moment. His attire was unassuming—a plain fine pink shirt and comfortable golden trousers, far from the opulent fashion he was known for at galas and gatherings. Today, he was just another villager enjoying the day.

He continued his leisurely pace, stopping now and then to greet familiar faces with a nod or a brief exchange of pleasantries. The local children, always intrigued by the mysterious, wealthy man who seemed to exist in a different world, followed at a distance, daring each other to approach him.

Eventually, Malik found himself at a small park, a favorite spot for families and elderly residents to gather. He chose a secluded bench under a sprawling oak tree, where he could sit and watch the village life unfold before him. As he settled down, a sense of peace washed over him. This was his village too, and moments like these—simple, unadorned by the complexities of wealth or fame—were precious.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the village, Malik's thoughts drifted back to his mansion and the work that awaited him. But for just a little longer, he would sit here, among the whispering villagers and playful children, and enjoy the quiet camaraderie of village life, a welcome respite from his usual whirlwind existence.

--- sometime later ---

Malik's serene afternoon on the bench was interrupted by the distant, growing din of voices and footsteps. Raising his eyes toward the commotion, he spotted Naruto energetically chasing after someone dressed as Rock Lee, though the disguise was laughably poor. Naruto's unrelenting optimism and dedication, interpreting even this bizarre situation as a training opportunity, brought a chuckle from Malik.

Curious about the unfolding spectacle, Malik waved his hand subtly, transforming his casual clothes into a more refined attire of pink and gold, reflecting his affluent and stylish nature. As he stood to get a better view, the impostor Rock Lee—or Potcha, as it were—barreled around a corner, not looking where she was going. Before Malik could step aside, she collided into him, her awkward momentum and the heft of her very large bosom knocking him back slightly, causing a comedic scene as she practically face-planted into his chest.

Potcha quickly scrambled up, her face a mix of embarrassment and faux outrage, as she tried to regain some dignity. "Watch where you're going!" she exclaimed, brushing off her ill-fitting green jumpsuit which did little to flatter her robust figure.

Naruto, still smiling and puffing from the run, came to a skidding halt beside them. He blinked in confusion, his mind trying to reconcile the conflicting images of his mentor Rock Lee—who he knew was Malik's long-time fiancée—and this disheveled imposter who clearly wasn't the person he loved.

Realizing the mix-up, Potcha glanced down, her eyes widening as she recognized the man she had just run into. "You're... Malik! The baker... and much more," she stuttered, suddenly aware of the social faux pas she'd committed against one of the village's most affluent figures.

Malik, ever the playful conspirator, decided to play along with the village's silent agreement to torment the impostors. With a gracious smile and a light brush off of his clothes, he waved off the incident. "No harm done," he assured her, his voice carrying the light, teasing tone he often used when amused. "Seems like you're training quite hard, 'Lee'. Keep up the good work."

Naruto, catching up, paused a few feet away, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Lee? What's going on? Why are you yelling at Malik? Aren't you two..." His voice trailed off, puzzled by the unusual interaction.

Malik, ever the charmer and quick on his feet, smoothed out his clothes and stood up, brushing himself off with a laugh. "Oh, Lee, always so spirited! And yes, Naruto, Lee and I are very close," he said with a wink, playing along with the charade. He turned to Potcha, offering her a hand with a mischievous grin. "And dear, since when do you run away from me? How about dinner later? I'd love to spend some quality time with my fiancée."

Potcha, caught off guard by Malik's playful demeanor and knowing glint in his eye, stuttered for a moment before regaining her composure. "Uh, yeah, dinner sounds great!" she blurted out, not wanting to blow her cover in front of Naruto, she adjusted her fake, bushy eyebrows and attempted a Lee-like pose, though her balance was compromised by the oversized leg weights. "Yes, Naruto! The flames of youth burn brightly, and today they teach us about vigilance!"

Malik chuckled, clapping his hands in mock applause. "Splendid performance! Truly, the spirit of Lee is with us in more ways than one today."

Naruto, still a bit confused but always eager to believe the best in his friends, clapped his hands together. "Great! Then it's settled! Lee, you and Malik have a nice dinner!" He then darted off, presumably to continue his 'training' elsewhere.

Malik, seeing an opportunity to both amuse himself and probe the intentions of the imposter, took Potcha's hand with a charming grin. "Why wait until later? Let's have dinner now," he proposed, guiding her toward one of the village's more secluded dining spots—a quaint, private garden café known for its discretion and excellent food.

As they walked, Malik couldn't help but assess Potcha's disguise more thoroughly. The wig was askew, giving her a somewhat comical appearance rather than the sharp, disciplined look of the real Rock Lee. Her eyebrows, thick and bushy, were unevenly drawn on, adding to the farcical impression. The green jumpsuit, iconic to Lee, was stretched over her curvy physique in a way that was both unflattering and amusing. The leg weights seemed to hinder rather than help, causing her to wobble with each step she took.

Despite the obvious flaws in her disguise, Potcha seemed determined to play her part. As they approached the café, she straightened up, attempting to mimic Rock Lee's energetic demeanor. "Right! A splendid idea, Malik! Training is important, but so is nourishing the body and spirit with excellent cuisine!"

Malik nodded, playing along with a twinkle in his eye. "Absolutely, Lee. It's all about balance, after all." He led her through the garden gate, where they were greeted by the subtle aroma of honey, jasmine, and the soft rustling of leaves.

Seated at a private table hidden by cascading willows and flowering bushes, Malik ordered their meals. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the table, enhancing the intimate atmosphere. Malik watched Potcha closely, intrigued by her dedication to the role.

"So, 'Lee,'" Malik started, his voice laced with subtle amusement, "tell me more about our plans after dinner. I believe a fiancé should always keep his betrothed happy and engaged, don't you think?"

Potcha, sensing an opportunity to possibly extract some generosity from Malik, leaned forward, her large breasts nearly spilling from the ill-fitting jumpsuit. She batted her eyelids exaggeratedly. "Oh, Malik, you always know what to say to make a girl feel special. Maybe we could take a stroll under the stars? Just you and me?"

Malik chuckled, appreciating the effort despite the obvious play-acting. "A stroll sounds wonderful. It's important to digest properly after a good meal," he agreed, watching her reaction. 

Throughout the dinner, Malik engaged Potcha in light conversation, subtly probing for her real intentions without directly confronting her about the disguise. Potcha, for her part, alternated between mimicking Rock Lee's disciplined enthusiasm and slipping into a more flirtatious persona, clearly trying to charm Malik.

As they finished their meal, Malik leaned back, observing her across the flickering candlelight. "You know, 'Lee,' it's quite remarkable how much you've embraced the finer things tonight. I must say, I'm impressed with your… adaptability."

Potcha paused, then laughed nervously. "Well, you know me! Always full of surprises!" She played with her wig awkwardly, still committed to maintaining her façade.

Malik smiled warmly, his gaze penetrating. "Indeed. And it's always refreshing to see new sides to someone you care about. Shall we take that walk now?"

As they stood and walked out of the café into the starlit garden, Malik's mind was busy piecing together the true story behind Potcha's charade. Meanwhile, Potcha, still under the impression that she had fooled Malik, was plotting how best to use this connection to her advantage, unaware that Malik was several steps ahead of her.

As Malik and Potcha, still disguised as Rock Lee, wandered through the garden's meandering paths under a canopy of stars, Malik's hand occasionally, and quite deliberately, found its way to the curves of her awkwardly fitting green jumpsuit. The fabric stretched tightly over her form, accentuating every contour of her large physique.

Potcha, sensing an opportunity to capitalize on what she perceived as Malik's genuine affection, turned to him with a coy smile. "You know, darling, a girl like me needs a bit of spending money to keep looking her best for her fiancé. Maybe you could help me out?" Her voice was sugary sweet, laced with a hint of manipulation.

Malik, ever the playboy and not one to shy away from the game, reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy pouch of gold coins. He dangled it before her with a knowing smile. "For you, anything. Just make sure you spend it on something that makes you happy," he said, handing her the pouch with a flourish.

Potcha's eyes lit up at the sight of the gold, and she quickly tucked the pouch away into her jumpsuit, patting it securely. "Oh, Malik, you're too good to me!" she exclaimed, her earlier façade of discipline melting into a more genuine excitement.

As they continued their walk, Malik asked her seemingly innocent questions about their "relationship." "So, my dear, remind me again of the place where we first met? I cherish those memories so dearly."

Potcha, caught off guard but quick to improvise, giggled and leaned closer to him. "Oh, it was that lovely little tea shop in the village. You were so gallant, rescuing my scarf from that playful breeze."

Malik nodded solemnly, playing along despite knowing no such event had ever occurred. "Ah, yes, how could I forget? The wind was quite mischievous that day."

Their conversation flowed easily, with Malik subtly testing her responses while Potcha navigated her fabricated memories. Eventually, they found themselves secluded beneath a large, ancient tree, its leaves whispering secrets in the gentle night breeze.

Malik turned to her, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "May I kiss you?" he asked, his gaze intense.

Without hesitation, Potcha replied, "Yes," her voice breathy with anticipation.

Malik leaned in, his hands finding their way to her large breasts, which strained against the fabric of her tight green jumpsuit. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, deep and lingering. Potcha responded eagerly, pressing herself against him, her hands exploring his back.

As they broke apart, Malik looked into her eyes, a playful twinkle in his own. "You're quite the kisser, 'Lee.' I must say, I'm impressed."

Potcha, flushed and a little breathless, smiled up at him. "Well, I have to keep up with my fiancé, don't I?"

They laughed softly, their laughter mingling with the rustling of the leaves above. Malik's mind was active, piecing together her motivations and planning his next moves, while Potcha, thoroughly enjoying the unexpected turn of events, contemplated just how far she could take this charade.

As Malik and Potcha continued their clandestine rendezvous beneath the large, ancient tree, their kissing grew more fervent. Malik, playing his role to perfection, patted his lap invitingly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. Potcha, swept up in the moment and perhaps a little dazzled by the attention of the village's most elusive bachelor, gracefully maneuvered herself onto his lap. The fabric of her green jumpsuit strained even more at the movement, accentuating her ample curves.

Seated on his lap, Potcha could feel Malik's growing excitement pressing against her, a testament to the effect she had on him. Malik's hands, always adventurous, roamed over her form, squeezing and exploring the generous curves of her large breasts through the stretched fabric of her jumpsuit. The outfit, meant to emulate Rock Lee's iconic ensemble, was clearly not designed for such activities, riding up uncomfortably yet thrillingly.

Malik's touch was skillful, each caress and squeeze sending a rush of excitement through Potcha's body. His fingers traced the outline of her overly large, bushy eyebrows—part of her disguise that was meant to mimic Lee's distinct features, but now just added a touch of humor to their intimate encounter.

The setting was almost idyllic, with the rustling leaves above them and the soft chirping of the evening cicadas creating a symphony of natural sounds. Yet, there was an undercurrent of deception in the air, a playful yet calculated dance of truths and lies. Malik, fully aware of the farce but delighting in the intrigue, whispered against her ear, "You know, this isn't how I usually plan my evenings, but I must admit, there's something incredibly exciting about this."

Potcha, caught between her role and the growing allure of Malik's charm, nodded breathlessly, her role as the fake Rock Lee slowly crumbling under the weight of her genuine attraction to him. "Malik, I—"

Before she could continue, Malik silenced her with another deep, intoxicating kiss, his hands wandering down to explore the firmness of her large butt, squeezing the soft flesh through the fabric of her jumpsuit. Potcha moaned into the kiss, her body instinctively pressing closer to his, seeking more of the exquisite sensations he elicited.

Malik's playfulness didn't wane; he teased the edges of her outfit, hinting at further explorations. "You're quite the enigma," he murmured as they paused for breath, his pink eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. "Part mystery, part open book. Which page shall we turn to next?"

Potcha, now thoroughly entangled in the web of their flirtation, smiled shyly, her earlier bravado softened by his attentions. "Whichever page you want, Malik. I'm an open book for you tonight."

Their laughter mingled with the gentle night breeze, the boundaries between their real and assumed identities blurring. As they continued to kiss, lost in their private world under the protective canopy of the tree, the rest of the village seemed a distant memory.

In the shadows of the tree, their connection deepened, a mix of genuine attraction and playful deception, each kiss and touch writing a new line in their unexpected story. Malik's fondness for the game was clear, but even he couldn't deny the stirring of something real, something potentially as wild and unpredictable as the evening itself.

And as the night deepened, so did their escapade, under the watchful eyes of the stars and the whispering leaves, a secret kept safe by the natural world around them.

As the night grew dark, the air around them grew cooler, and Malik, ever the gentleman, suggested they find a more comfortable spot to continue their intimate exploration. Taking Potcha's hand, he led her to a nearby gazebo, tucked away in a secluded corner of the garden. The structure was simple yet elegant, adorned with twinkling lanterns that cast a soft, inviting glow over the wooden bench inside.

Once they were seated, Malik turned to Potcha, his eyes reflecting the warm lantern light. "You know, 'Lee,' I've always admired your discipline and dedication, but tonight, I must say, I'm particularly drawn to your... curves." His voice was a low, sultry purr, his gaze tracing the lines of her body appreciatively.

Potcha, her breath hitching at his words, felt a flush spread across her cheeks. She had always been self-conscious about her larger-than-average frame, but Malik's gaze was anything but judgmental. Instead, she saw genuine appreciation and desire in his eyes, and it emboldened her.

Malik reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle yet electric. "I want to see all of you, Lee. I want to worship every inch of your body," he whispered, his voice barely audible yet sending shivers down her spine.

Potcha's heart pounded in her chest as she nodded, her voice barely a whisper, "Yes, Malik."

With a slow, deliberate movements, Malik began to unzip her ill-fitting green jumpsuit, his eyes never leaving hers. The fabric parted, revealing her generous cleavage, spilling out from the top of a simple, white cotton bra. Malik's breath caught as he took in the sight, his hands continuing their descent, pushing the jumpsuit off her shoulders and down her arms, baring her flesh to the cool night air.

Her breasts, large and firm, strained against the confines of her bra, the fabric stretching taut over her nipples, which were hard with arousal. Malik's hands traced the swell of her breasts, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive peaks, earning a gasp from Potcha.

Malik's eyes flicked up to hers, a mischievous glint in them. "You know, 'Lee,' I've always wondered about something," he said, his voice playful yet sultry. "Do you wear these for me, or for yourself?"

Potcha's eyes widened in surprise, her mind momentarily blank. Malik chuckled, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra, expertly undoing it with a flick of his wrist. "I think I'll find my answer soon enough," he murmured, pushing the straps off her shoulders, freeing her breasts to his gaze.

They were large, almost too large for his hands, with dark, aroused nipples that begged for his touch. Malik obliged, his hands cupping and squeezing, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive peaks, eliciting a moan from Potcha. Her head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the sensation of his hands on her, exploring and worshipping her body.

Malik took his time, his hands and mouth lavishing attention on her breasts, until Potcha was a writhing, moaning mess on the bench. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his muscles as she urged him on, her body arching into his touch.

As Malik continued his ministrations, his hands drifted down to the waistband of her jumpsuit, which was still pooled around her hips. He hooked his fingers into the elastic, his eyes flicking up to hers, seeking permission. Potcha nodded breathlessly, her eyes hooded with desire.

Slowly, Malik pushed the jumpsuit down, revealing her plump thighs and the white cotton panties that matched her bra. He paused, taking in the sight of her, his pink eyes dark with desire. "You're beautiful, Lee," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Potcha's heart swelled at his words, her body throbbing with need. She reached out, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing against his full lips. "You're not so bad yourself, Malik," she replied, her voice soft.

Malik flashed her a grin, "I'm starting to get that a lot" he whispered to her, his hands continuing their descent, pushing her jumpsuit and panties down in one smooth motion, baring her completely to his gaze. Potcha gasped, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Malik caught them, his eyes holding hers.

"Don't hide from me, Lee," he whispered, his voice gentle yet commanding. "I want to see all of you."

Potcha's breath hitched, but she did as he asked, her hands falling away, leaving her body exposed to his hungry gaze. Malik's eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, his gaze tracing the curves and valleys of her body, lingering on the dark curls at the juncture of her thighs.

"Malik," Potcha whispered, her voice barely audible, "I—"

Her words were cut off as Malik leaned forward, his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss. His hands continued their exploration, his fingers tracing the soft skin of her inner thighs, moving ever closer to her core.

Potcha moaned into the kiss, her body arching into his touch, seeking more. Malik obliged, his fingers finding her wet, folds, stroking her with a skill that left her breathless. She could feel the heat building inside her, her body tensing as she neared the edge.

Suddenly, Malik pulled back, his eyes dark with desire. He reached down, his hand moving to the front of his pants, where the outline of his cock was clearly visible. "I want you, Lee," he growled, his voice low and primal. "I want to be inside you."

Potcha's heart pounded in her chest, her body aching with need. She nodded, her voice barely a whisper, "Yes, Malik. Please."

Malik's hands moved to his pants, undoing the button and zipper with quick, efficient movements. He pushed the fabric down, revealing his large, black cock, standing proud and erect. Potcha's eyes widened at the sight, her body clenching with anticipation.

Malik reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, golden foil packet. He tore it open, his eyes never leaving hers as he rolled the condom onto his length. "Are you ready, Lee?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire.

Potcha nodded, her body throbbing with need. "Yes, Malik. I'm ready."

With a growl, Malik positioned himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as he slowly, inch by inch, pushed himself inside her. Potcha gasped, her body stretching to accommodate his size, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she urged him on.

Malik began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm, his cock filling her completely. Potcha moaned, her body moving in time with his, her hands exploring his muscular back, her nails digging into his flesh.

The gazebo filled with the sound of their bodies meeting, their moans and gasps echoing in the night air. Malik's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he increased his pace, his cock thrusting,

Malik, his desire fueled by the sight and feel of Potcha's body, felt a surge of strength and passion. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her with ease, his muscles flexing as he brought her up to meet him. Potcha gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her giant breasts pressing against his chest, the soft flesh bouncing slightly with the movement.

Malik groaned, the sensation of her large, firm breasts against him sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He held her securely, his hands cupping her ample ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he began to thrust into her with renewed vigor.

Potcha moaned, her head falling back, her real long hair cascading down in waves. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust, the movement hypnotic and erotic. Malik watched, his eyes dark with desire, his cock throbbing inside her as he continued to pound into her, his pace increasing with each thrust.

Suddenly, Malik's eyes flashed with a pink light, his magic surging. With a growl, he used his magic, sending them flying through the air, his magic allowing them to float seamlessly. Malik's magic made his movements smooth and strong, making his thrusts even stronger as they soared through the air.

As they floated through the night sky, Potcha's tits bouncing in his face, Potcha's arms wrapped around his waist, Potcha's back. "Malik, this is so good," Potcha said, her voice rapturous. "Malik, this is so good."

Malik, his eyes flashing with desire, his cock still pumping inside her, his movements strong and commanding. "Yes, Lee, yes, it is"

As they floated higher and higher, Malik's desire grew feverish, his movements more urgent. His grip around her waist tightened, his thrusts more intense. He pumped into her, his cock, her body, their skin, their sweat, their moans, their cries, their magic.

Potcha cried out, her body clenching, her eyes rolling back. She came, her body tensing, her pussy tensing. "Malik!" She cried, her body shaking, her body tensing, her body clenching. "Malik!" She yelled, her body bouncing. "Malik!" She screamed, her body jerking.

Malik's thrusts grew more powerful, his cock stretching her, filling her, unstoppable

Malik's hips increased, his pace frenzied, his cock slamming into her, her tits bouncing on his chest. Potcha cried out, her voice echoing through the garden, her pussy clenking her. Malik, his eyes glinting, his cock throbbing inside her, his hips pumping, her hips bouncing on his.

"Lee," he whispered, his voice low, his eyes sparkling with desire, "Lee, you feel it?"

Potcha nodded, her voice breathless, her body clenching. His cock slammed into her, his hips pumping, her hips bouncing on his chest. Potcha's back arched, her cry echoing through the night air, a series of pleasure.

Malik's gaze met hers, his eyes burning with desire. "I want you to cum on my cock, Lee," he growled, his voice husky with lust. Potcha, her tits bouncing with his movements, her face flushed, her panting breathless.

He pumped inside her, his cock, black as night, filling her up, his hips, his magic pumping, her tits bouncing, her large breasts, bouncing on his chest, her eyes, wide, her mouth, open, her breath, ragged with his.

Malik's cock pulses with anticipation, his muscles clenching as he pushes himself deep into Potcha, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. With a final, powerful thrust, he bursts inside her, his hot seed filling the condom to the brim. Potcha's eyes flutter closed, her body tensing as she rides the wave of pleasure, her large breasts swaying gently with each aftershock.

Malik's voice is a low, guttural growl as he holds her, his face contorted with ecstasy. "So fucking good, Lee. I could get used to this every day."

Potcha, her breath ragged, her voice a soft moan, smiles lazily. "Only if you keep me satisfied like this, Malik. You know, I'm not really Rock Lee."

Malik's grin is wicked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I know. But you're a very convincing Rock Lee, Potcha. And a very sexy one at that." He leans in, his lips capturing hers in a gentle, lingering kiss.