Imprisoned Crown of Thorns

Before Han Sen got into the car, Nietzsche quickly drove out of downtown Rome, walked through the pharmacy, and then quickly drove back to his home in the suburbs.

"Mr. Nietzsche, are you back?"

When the butler saw Nietzsche came back, he immediately stood obediently in front of the door and waited for Nietzsche to enter.

Nietzsche stood in front of the villa, looking straight at the gate of his own house, raised his rich and beautiful eyes, and looked straight at the tall courtyard. Although the decoration of this courtyard is plain and simple, there is something that cannot be said magnificent.

The housekeeper tremblingly stood by the door waiting for Nietzsche to speak. He was slapped by Nietzsche just now, and now he still feels a burning pain on his face.

Well, it's probably psychological.

The housekeeper felt that he had almost become a habit of being abused.

Nietzsche looked at the door quietly for a while, then pulled his lips suddenly, and smiled softly, "Has Han Sen gone home?"

The butler blinked suspiciously.

"Mr. Nietzsche, you are not going to..."

"What are you going to do?"

Nietzsche's face suddenly changed, and he looked at the butler displeased,

"Remember, I didn't go anywhere. Shut up and stop talking nonsense when Han Sen comes back."

"Yes, yes, I see, Mr. Nietzsche..."

Seeing Nietzsche's displeased eyes, the butler felt his cheeks start to burn again. He silently raised his hand to cover his side face, and looked at Nietzsche with some fear.

Nietzsche glanced at him indifferently, and naturally saw through his mind,

"No one will be punished for no reason. If you do something wrong, you should be punished. Do you know?"

Nietzsche now speaks without ups and downs.

The butler felt that as long as he was in front of Nietzsche, he would be like a prey being targeted by a hunter. He had nowhere to hide, and he would do everything with trepidation. He didn't feel comfortable and orderly with Han Sen at all.

It's better to be your own master!

Nietzsche raised his hand and brushed his hair, but his voice became colder.

"Got it?!"

"understood!"

The butler quickly answered Nietzsche, as if raising his head and chest, and the loud voice was the soldier facing the general.

Nietzsche gave a grunt and nodded,

"Where is Han Xiu?"

"The little boy just came back from his painting teacher, and he is currently finishing his painting and homework in the studio."

Nietzsche nodded. Faced with many things in daily life, Han Xiu is still very obedient. Probably because of Han Sen's education method, Han Xiu basically doesn't need anyone to worry about it.

Nietzsche raised his legs and walked towards the villa.

The butler followed behind Nietzsche, and when he turned his head, he saw faint blood dripping from Nietzsche's palm, flowing down his pale fingertips.

"what……"

The butler opened his mouth wide in surprise, and opened his eyes wide.

Hearing the butler's astonished voice, Nietzsche paused, stopped, and turned to look at the butler's face, "What's wrong."

The butler stepped forward, carefully picked up Nietzsche's wrist, and said worriedly.

"Mr. Nietzsche, why is your hand hurt? I saw on your finger..."

"Let go."

Nietzsche waved his hand violently, pulled his arm out of the butler's palm, and frowned, "I'm not a woman, so why should I do this? It's just a small injury."

Nietzsche gently stroked his injured forearm with the other hand,

"Remember what I said, if you shouldn't say it to Han Sen, don't say it, or I will cut your tongue off."

The butler blankly watched Nietzsche turn around and walk towards the gate of the villa hall, then lowered his head and spread his palms, only to feel the wet feeling in his palms the moment he touched Nietzsche's sleeve just now.

Sure enough, the butler saw a faint bright red in his palm.

Unconsciously, he raised his palm and sniffed it under his nose, and there was a faint smell of blood from the palm of his hand.

When Nietzsche entered the door, his complexion was very bad. Compared with usual, he even looked a little pale.

In addition, he was wearing a black embroidered shirt, so there was nothing wrong or wrong at all.

The butler was so entangled that he wanted to die.

Nietzsche treated his wounds in the room very simply, changed into another long-sleeved look shirt, opened the door and left the room, then went to the master bedroom where Han Sen and himself had been before, commanding the servants The man packed up all his clothes and put them in the next bedroom.

"Mr. Nietzsche, what is this?"

The butler looked at Nietzsche in embarrassment and asked people to pack up all the clothes.

Nietzsche put his hands in his pockets,

"Han Sen and I are separated, don't you know?"

After packing up his things, Nietzsche walked to the studio dedicated to Han Xiu. He was now by the window, quietly watching his youngest son earnestly complete the homework assigned by the teacher.

Han Xiu sat in front of the large drawing board without saying a word, holding a small palette in one hand, and a paintbrush in the other hand, his eyes focused on the palette in front of him.

Han Sen said that static art is conducive to cultivating children's dignified and steady personality, and it is true.

Nietzsche walked over with strides, and stood silently behind Han Xiu, watching his youngest son complete the beauty that his imagination could feel on the drawing board stroke by stroke.

Probably the Japanese teacher taught some new things, Han Xiu is trying, not as solid and rich as the heavy color painting before, but it looks a little delicate, but Han Xiu can't master it very well, deliberately pursuing fine details in the details, it seems Pompous.

Nietzsche did not correct him, but just quietly accompanied his young son.

Children's creativity needs to be discovered and perfected by themselves, and parents do not need to intervene.

"Son..."

Suddenly, a maid carrying tea came in. It was the one who read to Han Xiu before going to bed at night. She had bright golden hair and looked enthusiastic, but her appearance was very simple and dignified. charming.

Seeing Nietzsche behind Han Xiu, the girl suddenly shrank her head. To be honest, Nietzsche rarely went back to accompany Han Xiu, especially at this moment. class feelings.

And it's the kind of ungrateful type.So everyone in the family is more or less afraid of him.

Nietzsche himself knew it, but he didn't care, because he didn't care about being happy with anyone.

So fine.

Being favored and tolerated like an emperor by everyone, Nietzsche felt at ease.

He was born to be a tall man.

Only Han Sen made him do this, and no one else could do it.

Hearing the girl's voice, Han Xiu raised his head. First he saw the servant who was holding tea and dared not enter the door, and then Nietzsche who was standing beside him. His habitually serious face suddenly showed surprise and expression. "Mother?…"

Nietzsche would never accompany Han Xiu to do these things, not even once, as long as Han Sen had time, Han Sen would be by his side most of the time.

However, although Han Xiu knew that Nietzsche would not come to accompany him, he didn't complain about anything. He must have hoped for it in his heart, so when he saw Nietzsche at this moment, Han Xiu was surprised and happy speechless .

Nietzsche smiled silently. Seeing his youngest son staring at his little face with a happy and expectant look on his face, he patted Han Xiu on the shoulder, "Hey, stand up and let mother sit."

Han Xiu almost jumped up happily,

"Good mom!"

Nietzsche sat down on both sides of the chair, stretched out his arms to hug Han Xiu and sat on his lap, waved to the maid standing outside the door and said, "Bring in the tea."

The servant nodded respectfully,

"Yes, Mr. Nietzsche!"

For the sake of happiness, Han Xiu happily hugged Nietzsche's neck, looked at Nietzsche's face with a smile, and tried his best to be as close as possible to his mother.

The servant walked to Nietzsche, and Nietzsche took the tea.

Han Sen stipulated that carbonated drinks are not allowed at home. Children are easily addicted to drinking those things, and they will cause the loss of calcium in the child's bones, which is prone to fractures and calf cramps.

That kind of thing should be said to be unspeakably miserable for children, and it can be avoided by trivial matters. Of course, it is best to avoid such things from happening completely.

Children's good living habits need to be cultivated from an early age.

So at home, Han Xiu and Nietzsche drink ordinary tea, even if guests come, there is no messy drink, they all serve tea, whether they like it or not.

Han Sen is not the kind of man who tampers with his living habits in order to cater to others.

For Han Sen, truly high-quality things must be simple. The only extravagant and flamboyant existence around him in his life is an overly beautiful man like Lutheran.

Holding the top of the tea with his fingers, Nietzsche lifted the lid of the tea and blew gently, Han Xiu looked at Nietzsche intently.

Nietzsche pulled his lips and smiled, and took a sip from the rim of the cup. Feeling that it was not so hot, Nietzsche put the rim of the cup to Han Xiu's lips, "Son, drink some tea."

Han Xiu nodded, then opened his mouth to drink tea, Nietzsche poured the cup slowly, seeing Han Xiu's obedient appearance, Nietzsche said softly, "I wish your father was as obedient as you."

Nietzsche raised his finger, gently stroked Han Xiu's forehead with his fingertips, and brushed Han Xiu's bangs that blocked his eyebrows.

After drinking the tea, Han Xiu, who was sitting quietly and drawing, licked the corner of his mouth in satisfaction.

"Little boy, wipe your mouth."

The maid who had been standing by the side handed the white silk cloth to Nietzsche's hand. Nietzsche took the cloth and wiped Han Xiu's mouth, which was wet from drinking tea.

Han Xiu looked up at the maid and said happily,

"Thank you, Xiao Ai."

The maid shook her head politely,

"You're welcome, son."

Nietzsche watched impatiently and waved his hand. These annoying polite expressions were all Han Sen's norms. Nietzsche was particularly disgusted with this. He waved the maid to go down, took the tea and closed the door.

As soon as the maid left, only Nietzsche and Han Xiu were left in the studio.

Han Xiu leaned back, leaned on Nietzsche's chest, and snorted comfortably, "Mom?"

Han Xiu suddenly called Nietzsche.

Nietzsche looked down at Han Xiu, reached out and pinched Han Xiu's face,

"what happened?"

Han Xiu twisted his body, turned his head to look at Nietzsche, raised his face,

The expression looks very innocent,

"Mom, I was thinking about what you just said."

As Han Xiu said, he stretched out his fingers and pulled the buttons on Nietzsche's shirt. His long eyelashes fluttered like little butterflies fluttering their wings at night.

"Oh? What did I just say?"

Han Xiu looked at Nietzsche in embarrassment, and then asked tentatively,

"Mom, do you dislike daddy?"

Nietzsche raised an eyebrow,

"Why do you think so?"

Han Xiu blinked,

"But you don't kiss your father now. Didn't you kiss your father every day before?"

In the past, Nietzsche would do some intimate things with Han Sen, and he couldn't avoid Han Xiu.

Nietzsche was silent, Han Xiu pulled the hair on Nietzsche's shoulders,

"Mom, did your father's disobedience make you angry?"

Nietzsche looked at Han Xiu with an amused look, then nodded,

"Yeah, Dad is disobedient, I don't want to talk to him."

Han Xiu frowned in frustration, seemed to think for a long time, and then said in vain, "Mom, will you not be angry if Dad is obedient?"

"Yes."

With a vague smile on his face, Nietzsche lowered his head and kissed Han Xiu's forehead.

The two chatted casually for a while, until the housekeeper reminded Nietzsche to have lunch, and Nietzsche led Han Xiu out of the studio.

Although Han Sen often accompanied Han Xiu, Han Sen was mostly taciturn, urging Han Xiu to complete the things and studies he should complete, and not to talk nonsense with Han Xiu. Han Sen neither likes to talk nonsense, nor himself. Nonsense, naturally, after being with Han Sen for a long time, Han Xiu has also become cautious, unlike a lively child.

But being with Nietzsche is different, as long as he is willing, Nietzsche always has a lot to say, but Han Xiu said, Han Xiu seems to have come into contact with a different world, and the whole person will suddenly become lively, completely like a curious person. The appearance of a heavy child.

Nietzsche carried Han Xiu all the way to the living room, took Han Xiu to the bathroom to wash his hands together, and then sat at the dining table to prepare for dinner.

The servants added lunch to the table one after another,

"Xiu, let's eat."

Nietzsche looked at Han Xiu and Shi Shi with a smile on his face all the time, he was a completely different person from when he entered the door before.

The butler standing aside saw the expression on Nietzsche's face at the moment, and felt that the Nietzsche he saw before was an illusion in his mind.

"Okay, thank you mom!"

Han Xiu smiled sweetly, and Nietzsche also picked up the tableware and prepared to eat.

The butler walked to Nietzsche's side, bent slightly, and asked Nietzsche suspiciously,

"Mr. Nietzsche, Mr. Han will be back soon, don't you wait for Mr. Han to come back and have dinner together?"

Nietzsche glanced at the butler coldly, and said lightly,

"Your master is not happy to eat the food at home now. Didn't he come back after eating outside?"

The butler looked at Han Xiu with an embarrassed expression, afraid that Han Xiu might have misunderstood something, but Han Xiu just blinked his eyes, glanced at Nietzsche, and then lowered his head and ate slowly.

After lunch, the butler stayed with Han Xiu and went upstairs for a routine lunch break. Nietzsche watched Han Xiu enter the bedroom, and turned to enter the bedroom himself.

After entering the bedroom door, Nietzsche took off his shirt, revealing his thin upper body, squatting on the carpeted floor with only his trousers on, leaning his back against the wall, and groping behind him for a whole box of Mexican cigars.

He opened the silver cigar box and took out a cigar from the box. These Mexican cigars had been cut and neatly arranged in the silver cigar box.

Unforgettable before this kind of Mexican cigar brings almost numbness to the lungs, which can make people feel that the head no longer hurts. Nietzsche bit the cigar in his mouth, raised his hand to light the cigar in a gloomy room, and the flame instantly Brighten up your face.

"call……"

Nietzsche took a deep puff of the cigar, and pale white smoke curled out from the corner of his mouth.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he stretched out his hand to open the curtains, and Nietzsche looked straight at the swaying flowers in the back garden outside the window.

A ray of light came in through the curtains and landed on Nietzsche's body. You could see the horrific wounds winding up from the white forearm. Those wounds were fresh and fragile, scattered on Nietzsche's beautiful body. A face, almost no part of Nietzsche is intact.

She has always used good clothing materials, carefully wrapped and covered up, and then revealed that intact face.

The so-called perfect things are always on the surface, and then in private, quietly, fragmented.

When Han Sen entered the door, the butler immediately greeted him.

Han Sen looked around. Nietzsche and Han Xiu were not there, and the servants were quietly performing their duties, tidying up, cleaning, and doing their own things.

"Has Lutheran finished his lunch?"

Han Sen turned to ask the housekeeper.

The butler nodded,

"Yes, Mr. Han, Mr. Nietzsche and the young master have finished their lunch and have already rested."

Han Sen hummed, handed the things in his hands to the butler and continued.

"Have Mr. Han had lunch?"

The butler looked at Han Sen.

Han Sen shook his head,

"Just do something, I'll go and see Nietzsche."

The butler nodded, turned and left.

Nietzsche leaned against the wall by the window, his long hair covered his side face, and his eyes were always on the garden outside the window.

"Lutheran."

Han Sen's voice came from outside the door. Nietzsche turned his head slowly, but made no sound. The room was filled with smoke. Even if Han Sen came in, he would be severely reprimanded.

If Han Sen sees the numerous wounds on his body, he will definitely be punished.

But just hearing Han Sen's voice, Nietzsche felt himself trembling slightly.

Nietzsche's body was fully developed and loved by Han Sen. He desperately longed to be possessed and bumped by Han Sen day and night.

"Lutheran?"

Han Sen's voice raised a little, and he reached for the handle of the door, but the door was locked when Nietzsche came in, and Han Sen couldn't get in.

Nietzsche held his breath, and the bottom of his trousers had already begun to move around, and the back suddenly felt extremely empty.

Nietzsche has always felt that Han Sen's place should be placed in his body for a long time. Such a long period of no close contact, or occasional close contact, made him so pale and weak, as if he had dried up. deep well.

The day Lutheran decided that he belonged to Han Sen, he felt that he should be loved all the time.

But Han Sen didn't do it, and Han Sen didn't want to give it to him.

But what can he say?

"Mr. Han, Mr. Nietzsche is probably asleep."

Nietzsche heard the butler's voice.

"Did Lutheran have lunch?"

"Eat, Mr. Han."

Han Sen gave a low grace, and the voice came into the room through the door. It was low and sweet, and gave Nietzsche an indescribable feeling. It made him feel that a wave of heat rushed straight into his mind with the strong cigar, and then hit his limbs. Muke closed his eyes gently, and Han Sen's young body flashed in front of his eyes.

Lutheran wondered if he was really old?

Maybe it's not attractive to the young Han Sen anymore.

But I obviously want to come more and more.

I didn't feel ashamed of my desires because of getting older.

The back of Nietzsche's head was still leaning against the wall, with a cigar in his mouth, and the smoke curled upwards. Nietzsche quickly tore off his leather belt, and then pulled off his underpants.

"I'll come back later."

Han Sen said something, turned and left.

Nietzsche held his hand and began to move up and down vigorously. Nietzsche is of white blood, and it looks very impressive there. In fact, it is bigger and longer than Han Sen. When it is fully extended, it is even a little surprising.

When Han Sen held Nietzsche's hand sometimes, he would be more or less surprised, and occasionally feel a little annoyed.

However, this is purely a matter of blood and genetics, and the size below cannot change Nietzsche's longing for Hansen.

"Well……"

Nietzsche snorted and moved for a long time, but he couldn't come out.

He raised his hand, shook the cigar from his mouth violently, lay down on the ground suddenly, looked up at the ceiling with his cheeks up, and then closed his eyes.

Nietzsche found a Hansen shirt from his clothes and put it on his cheeks, took off his pants and underpants, raised his finger to his mouth, sucked it wet, spread his legs, and stretched his finger to himself The back began to move repeatedly, lying on the carpet and struggling for a long time, Nietzsche fantasized about Han Sen's face, until the back was hot and wet.

"uncle……?"

Han Sen didn't know when he came over again, and knocked on the door rhythmically again.

At some point, Han Sen was really annoying.

"Sen..."

As if humiliating Han Sen again, Lutheran murmured Han Sen's name in a suppressed voice, and then his lower abdomen was wet and still looked very sticky.

There was no expression on Nietzsche's face, but he took Han Sen's clothes and wiped his body clean, then turned over and lay down on the carpet full of joy, reached out to pull the cigar box over, raised his slender legs, and held the cigar box with one hand. Holding his chin, he began to smoke a cigarette.

In the dim room, the naked stunner held a cigar in his hand, picked up Han Sen's shirt, put it under his nose and inhaled deeply, as if he was inhaling the aroma of a young lover's skin.

"Lutheran?"

Han Sen took the trouble to knock again,

"Uncle, get up quickly, if you sleep too long in the afternoon, you will suffer from insomnia at night..."

Nietzsche raised his head abruptly, waved the ashtray in hand, and slammed it on the door, "Get lost!"

There was no sound outside the door.

Han Sen probably left.

Nietzsche gasped, turned his face and lay on Han Sen's clothes again, with a pleasant smile on his mouth, a faint blush on his pale cheeks, his fingertips were gently mosuo on the clothes, and he whispered softly , "Sen..."

With a proud look.

The whisper of a lover in the sea of ​​love.