Ultra-Level Weeb: Rise in an Awakened World

"Don’t expect me to do it again..." Zerena muttered.

Standing close to him, both of them still completely naked, she wrapped one arm loosely around the back of his neck, drawing him closer while her other hand resumed its slow strokes along his still-hard penis.

"Next time," she added with a tired look, "you’d better finish faster."

Max nodded immediately.

Whether he actually intended to follow that advice remained highly questionable.

Satisfied enough with the answer, Zerena leaned forward and captured his lips in another kiss.

Meanwhile...

Max’s own hands had already resumed their usual occupation.

They wandered over her body with the confidence of someone who’d somehow convinced himself he’d been issued permanent visiting rights.

One hand settled on her waist.

The other found its way lower.

Naturally.

His palms cupped her buttocks, giving them an appreciative squeeze before gently spreading them apart, only to let them fall back together a moment later. Apparently unable to decide which version he preferred, he repeated the process with the sort of shameless fascination normally reserved for discovering an unexpectedly good dessert.

His fingers wandered along the middle, feeling the faint dampness where her soft cheeks met after everything they’d just been through.

It still didn’t seem as though Max fully understood what she was trying to tell him.

Or perhaps he did.

His brain had simply decided that this was the worst possible moment to dedicate any meaningful processing power to the conversation.

Breaking the kiss once more, Zerena looked him straight in the eyes.

"I am only doing this cause I don’t want you to lay next to me with hard on. You understand that right?"

Max nodded again almost absentmindedly.

Whether he was agreeing with her words or merely acknowledging that she was, in fact, making sounds with her mouth remained open to debate.

Standing this close, her naked body had become an almost impossible distraction.

From where he stood, his eyes naturally settled on her bare breasts, rising and falling gently with each slow breath. They were close enough that reaching out would’ve taken less effort than forming a coherent sentence.

Unfortunately, his imagination wasn’t content stopping there.

Knowing that she was completely naked—even the parts his eyes couldn’t currently see—was somehow proving far more distracting than the view itself.

His brain had already wandered off to enthusiastically appreciate the existence of the rest of her body on its own.

At this point, expecting him to devote his full attention to a conversation was about as realistic as expecting a starving man to ignore a banquet sitting right in front of him.

Even then, Max’s hands refused to stay still.

They wandered from her buttocks, up along the gentle curve of her back, only to return to the front again, absentmindedly tracing across her stomach before inevitably finding their way back to her breasts.

Zerena continued kissing him despite the inconvenience.

With one hand occupied stroking his penis and the other wrapped loosely around the back of his neck, there wasn’t much she could do besides occasionally tolerate another shameless squeeze.

’...Why am I even doing this?’

The question quietly surfaced again.

Last time, at least, there had been a reason.

Forbidden Points.

Potion ingredients.

Profit.

Everything had ultimately led back to making money.

This time...

There wasn’t a single System Point waiting at the end of it.

No reward.

No benefit.

If anything, this was a terrible business decision.

The more she indulged him without the system forcing her to, the greater the chance he’d start believing he could simply ask for favors like this in the future.

That alone should’ve been enough to make her stop.

Yet...

She hadn’t.

When she’d seen him still painfully hard after the task ended, a small, inconvenient part of her had hesitated.

Perhaps it was pity.

Perhaps simple guilt.

Or perhaps she just didn’t want to spend the entire night lying beside someone who looked as though his body was actively protesting reality.

Whatever the reason, she’d offered to help him again.

Which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake.

She could’ve simply told him to deal with it himself before climbing into bed.

More accurately...

She probably should have. Instead, here she was. Still kissing him, still stroking his penis. And somehow wondering when exactly she’d started making decisions this questionable.

’...Why?’

The question circled through Zerena’s mind again.

Yet her lips never left his.

She continued kissing him while her hand maintained its steady rhythm around his penis, stroking him from this angle in a way that somehow felt even more indecent than before.

Looking down at herself, the image struck her with uncomfortable clarity.

She was standing completely naked, kissing a much younger man while giving him a handjob with the sort of practiced determination she would’ve preferred never to associate with herself.

If someone had shown her this scene a month ago...

She would’ve assumed she’d either lost her mind or been replaced by a remarkably convincing impostor.

The thought was humiliating and yet...

She didn’t stop.

Some stubborn part of her kept insisting she shouldn’t leave Max frustrated after she’d already started.

’...What’s wrong with me?’

She honestly didn’t know.

All she knew was that an unfamiliar urgency had settled somewhere inside her. Not quite panic, not quite embarrassment. Just an increasingly difficult sensation to ignore.

Her body felt strangely warm.

Warmer than it had any right to.

The heat continued spreading little by little, making the air against her bare skin feel oddly insufficient. Even her breathing seemed incapable of cooling it.

An unexpected thought drifted into her mind.

A bath.

A long, cold bath.

Maybe that would calm whatever had gotten into her. Maybe letting cool water run over her body—especially between her thighs, where the warmth seemed most persistent—would finally settle the growing irritation she’d been trying so hard to ignore.

"It’s only because you made all those potions that I’m doing this," Zerena murmured between kisses. "So make sure you finish those hundred bottles this week..."

The words were aimed at Max.

More truthfully...

They were aimed at herself, another excuse.

Something she could cling to so this entire situation still made some kind of sense inside her own head.

As long as it was for the potion business... As long as there was profit waiting at the end of it...

Then perhaps she could continue pretending none of this had anything to do with what she herself was beginning to feel.

Her lips met his again before the thought could linger any longer.

She drew his tongue into another deep kiss while her hand maintained its slow, steady rhythm around his penis, determined to finish what she’d already started.

At the same time, she made no attempt to stop his wandering hands.

By now, they had become almost as predictable as his breathing.

They roamed freely across her body, lingering over her waist before returning to her breasts, squeezing them with the same shameless familiarity they’d developed over the past several days.

Eventually they drifted lower again.

His palms settled on her buttocks, gently kneading the soft flesh before spreading them apart once more, his fingers pressing deeper into the curve between her cheeks with quiet fascination.

Zerena felt every movement.

She noticed exactly where his hands had wandered.

Yet...

She didn’t stop him.