It had been around fifteen minutes since he started.
Zerena had been keeping track—glancing at the clock every now and then, shifting slightly in his arms like she was timing a chore rather than... this.
Max, on the other hand?
Yeah, he had no such complaints.
His hands stayed busy, moving with that sa controlled rhythm—squeezing, adjusting, occasionally nudging her nipples just enough to get a reaction. A light pinch here, a slow roll there—
Nothing too obvious.
Just enough.
Every single ti, he could feel the difference.
And above her head?
That bar.
Slowly filling.
Red creeping in bit by bit.
Max almost wanted to comnt on it like so kind of ga tutorial.
"Congratulations, you have unlocked consistent damage output."
By now, it had already filled more than a quarter.
Not fast.
But steady.
His lips twitched slightly.
’Yeah... this is definitely grindable.’
And surprisingly—
Zerena had actually relaxed more as the bar filled.
Max had expected the opposite.
More tension. More resistance.
But instead?
Her body seed to ease into it.
Not completely, though. There were still monts—small ones—where she tensed up again. Especially when he applied just a bit too much pressure on her nipples.
He didn’t need to guess.
"...ngh..." The soft reactions gave it away every ti.
Max adjusted imdiately, smoothing things out like nothing happened.
’Careful... don’t break the flow.’
His hands moved again, rubbing both of her nipples with controlled precision before pressing her breasts together, trying to bring them into contact—
’Almost...’
Not quite.
He clicked his tongue internally.
’Geotry problem.’
So instead, he lifted slightly, changing the angle just enough to keep things natural—
—or at least, natural-looking, that it was all random.
For Max, things were only getting better.
Way better.
Despite the air conditioning blasting cold air across the room, Zerena’s back had grown warm—slightly damp against him.
And yeah...
He noticed.
A lot.
The faint stickiness, the warmth, the subtle scent that ca with it—it all reached him way too easily, making his focus slip more than he’d like to admit. ’this is not helping my self-control.’
Her body temperature had clearly risen.
And it showed.
Even her breasts had started to feel warr in his hands, a slight dampness forming underneath, especially where they rested—
’Not at all..’
Max exhaled quietly, trying to keep his thoughts from going completely off-track.
"Uh... auntie," he said, keeping his tone as casual as possible, "can you get up a bit? Your back’s gotten a little sweaty..."
A perfectly reasonable request.
"Oh, then wipe it for ..." she said casually, handing him her shirt as she got up.
He took the shirt, his eyes—completely unintentionally, obviously—taking in the view of her back again.
For a split second, he hesitated.
If he pulled both of his hands away... would the quest end?
’...That would be tragic.’
But, it didn’t.
’...Good.’
Which ant—
He could go right back to it later.
The quest still hadn’t completed.
So Max shifted slightly, taking the chance to wipe the sweat from her back.
Her skin felt soft under his touch—smooth, warm, and mostly even in tone, with only a few scattered moles here and there.
As Max moved, she lifted her arms slightly—
And just like that, the scent hit him.
Direct.
Unfiltered.
Now, for most normal people?
Yeah... that would’ve been a problem.
A reason to pull back.
Maybe even flinch.
But Max? He wasn’t exactly built like that.
This was a man who had gone through every possible stage of "degenerate evolution" without even leaving his room.
From the usual step-family porn—
To cheating plots—
To full-blown "why am I even watching this?" territory.
And sohow? kept going.
If anything, it just made things worse.
For his self-control, at least.
Which, at this point, was already hanging by a thread.
Which basically ant—
There wasn’t much left that could actually disgust him.
Even sothing like this?
Yeah... not exactly a downside.
To Max, even the faint sweat under Zerena’s arms barely registered as anything negative.
"Wipe my armpits too..." she said, sounding mildly annoyed. "That damn ancient machine isn’t doing anything..."
’Wipe it?’ he wanted to lick it clean rather then wipe it.
She glanced toward the air conditioner like it had personally betrayed her.
The thing looked like it was barely holding itself together—half its casing loose, parts practically exposed and held in place by plastic bands.
"Instead of fucking cooling, it’s making the room more hotter, don’t you think?"
Max swallowed quietly, forcing his expression to stay neutral.
"Yeah... probably," he replied.
His eyes flicked back for just a second as he quickly looked away again, trying very hard not to let his thoughts wander any further than they already had.
Max nodded as he went on to wipe the other one, also glancing down at her breasts from the side and at her curvy stomach forming a few folds as she sat.
"Well, since we’re earning well, we can buy a new one tomorrow. Sumr has just started—I don’t know how hot it’s going to get when it’s peak sumrs..."
"Talking about money, I have so saved up too..." Max said, trying to keep the conversation going. At the sa ti, his hands moved again—returning to her other armpit, wiping it even though it was already clean, before shifting back down. This ti, he grabbed her breasts with more confidence, giving them a firm squeeze. "—ngh..." The reaction slipped out of her again, softer—but clearly surprised.
Zerena, however, wasn’t buying it so easily.
She knew exactly how much money she’d been handing him from selling those engraved pipes—and as far as she knew, he hadn’t spent a single coin of it.
Which was... suspicious.
Very suspicious.
"Really? How much?" she asked, her tone sharpening slightly.
Not just curiosity.
Evaluation.
Then her eyes narrowed just a bit.
"You better not be thinking of running away with it," she added, her voice turning cold. "We raised you, and now that you’re finally giving sothing back, you’re going to leave?"
A pause.
Then—
"I’ll chain you before that happens."
Max almost clicked his tongue.
But outwardly?
He froze.
Perfectly.
Shaking his head quickly, like he’d just been accused of a cri he didn’t even understand.
"No, aunt—I never thought that," he said, sounding genuinely panicked. "I was thinking of using it to buy ingredients... for potions or creams."
He swallowed, continuing carefully.
"For practice... before we open a shop."
A small pause.
"...If we’re opening one, I an..."
He lowered his gaze slightly, playing the part just right. ’like hell I am going before fucking you bitches to oblivion...’ thoughted with wide smirk.
Of course, Zerena wasn’t aware of his thoughts.
"Good," she said flatly, her voice losing even that thin layer of patience. "Because everything you’ve used till now? Food, house, clothes—don’t forget where you leeched all that from."
Her eyes stayed locked on him, cold and steady.
Her gaze stayed on him.
"If you ever think of leaving, you pay all of that back first."
"I won’t leave, aunt..." Max said after a short pause, his voice slightly shaky—just enough to sell it.
Zerena studied him for a mont, then simply nodded, as if that settled it.
Conversation over.
Just like that.
Max lowered his gaze again, playing along, but his hands didn’t stop—slowly returning to their earlier rhythm, continuing to fondle her breasts in silence.
Outwardly calm.
Inside? Yeah, not so much. Not because of what she said.
He didn’t really care about the whole "leeching" comnt.
That part barely registered.
What did bother him—
Was the bar.
The one that had been steadily filling up just monts ago.
Now?
Almost half—
And then suddenly...
Empty.
User Comments
0 comments from readers