Ultra-Level Weeb: Rise in an Awakened World

As for her own hands they were already damp with his precum, mixed with what little cum still lingered from before. Much like Max never seemed capable of getting used to her large breasts...

She was discovering an equally inconvenient problem of her own. No matter how long she held it, his hard, surprisingly big penis continued to feel strangely unfamiliar in her hand. It pulsed every so often against her palm, warm and firm, the faint veins beneath the skin becoming impossible to ignore the longer she kept stroking it.

Without meaning to, her mind kept reconstructing its shape purely from what her fingers were feeling, as though touch alone insisted on painting an increasingly detailed picture inside her head.

*’Don’t look.’* The warning repeated itself over and over.

She refused to lower her eyes. Not because she doubted what she’d see, quite the opposite. She was afraid she’d end up staring.

And somehow, the idea of openly studying Max’s penis felt even more embarrassing than the fact she was already standing here, naked, stroking it with her own hand.

Some lines, she decided, were better left uncrossed.

Her imagination, unfortunately...

Didn’t seem nearly as interested in respecting them.

In a way, she wasn’t much different from Max.

He could let his imagination run wild over the parts of her body he hadn’t even seen yet. Now her own mind was betraying her in a remarkably similar fashion. Even without looking, she could picture it with uncomfortable clarity.

It couldn’t really be helped.

Her palm was quietly collecting every tiny detail—the warmth, the thickness, the faint veins, the steady pulses—and her brain insisted on assembling those sensations into a complete image whether she wanted it to or not.

It was almost like some absurdly overqualified sculptor working entirely from touch, carefully reconstructing the shape of his penis inside her mind without ever asking for permission.

The realization alone was embarrassing enough that she became even more determined not to lower her eyes.

She had the uncomfortable feeling that if she looked now...

Her imagination would immediately begin comparing its reconstruction against the original.

As the kiss finally broke, Zerena didn’t pull away completely.

Instead, her lips drifted to his ear. Over the past several days, she’d quietly discovered he was strangely sensitive there. Without much hesitation, she let her lips brush against it before softly sucking on the edge.

"Cum fast..." she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. The words sent an immediate shiver racing down Max’s spine. A moment later, her tongue traced slowly around his ear.

His hips jerked on instinct. Without any warning, his penis throbbed violently in her hand before another surge of cum spilled out between her fingers.

A low grunt escaped him, muffled against the side of her head.

At the same time, his hands tightened around her butt, squeezing her buttocks almost desperately as his body reacted on its own.

Had he been able to see what his wandering hands were exposing between her buttocks—how close his fingers had come to her anus—he probably would’ve lost what little self-control remained much earlier.

Instead...

His body simply made the decision for him.

Another powerful spurt escaped his penis, this one carrying enough force that part of it landed several feet away across the bed.

Most of it, however, remained exactly where Zerena had expected.

On her hand.

Even then, she didn’t stop.

Still lingering at his ear, she continued gently sucking and teasing it while maintaining the same steady rhythm around his penis.

If she was already doing this...

She intended to make absolutely certain she wouldn’t have to repeat it again five minutes later.

Her grip gradually tightened, deliberately stroking him through the last waves of his orgasm, squeezing out every remaining drop without paying the slightest attention to the cum trailing slowly over her fingers.

Only when Max’s body finally stopped trembling did she let her hand slow.

His breathing had become ragged.

His legs felt so weak he wasn’t entirely convinced they still qualified as reliable methods of transportation.

A faint moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes as the lingering aftershocks finally faded.

Within the span of only a few days...

He had somehow managed to experience yet another orgasm that comfortably ranked among the strongest of his entire life.

Even after orgasming twice, Max was still hard.

How could he not be?

Not when Zerena had actually let him keep fondling her butt while she drifted off to sleep, never once brushing his hands away. His thoughts inevitably wandered back to the two handjobs she’d given him. The second one in particular. It still felt strangely unreal.

Not because of what she’d done...

But because she’d been the one to offer it. That alone was enough to keep replaying in his head.

Then there was the arousal meter. He still remembered how full it had been, lingering just shy of the end throughout most of the evening.

If he’d been just a little braver...

A little greedier...

He couldn’t help wondering whether she might have finally allowed him to touch the place she’d guarded so stubbornly until now. The thought refused to leave him alone. Neither did another memory.

Just a fleeting glimpse...

Barely more than an instant.

Yet it had burned itself into his mind with remarkable clarity, becoming one of the biggest contributors to his current predicament.

Every time he closed his eyes, that brief image resurfaced, undoing whatever progress his previous two orgasms should have made and leaving his body stubbornly unconvinced that the night was over.

Seeing that Zerena had finally fallen asleep, Max quietly gave in to temptation.

Careful not to wake her, he slipped an arm around her waist from behind, drawing himself a little closer.

She remained facing away from him, her back resting lightly against his chest, her slow, steady breathing the only sign that she’d already drifted into a deep sleep.

The new air conditioner she’d bought for the laboratory hummed softly in the background, cooling the room far more effectively than the ancient unit back at the apartment ever could. The temperature had dropped enough that the room almost carried the faint chill of winter.

Max, naturally, decided that sounded like a perfectly reasonable excuse.

If the room was cold, then moving a little closer was simply the practical thing to do.

At least...

That was the explanation he generously offered himself as he settled against her warm body, quietly enjoying the contrast between the cool air surrounding them and the comforting warmth she radiated in her sleep.