Ultra-Level Weeb: Rise in an Awakened World

For once, Max felt like he was finally completing one of the many character arcs he’d been assigned after transmigrating. Back in his previous life, talking to women had been difficult enough.

Actually touching one? That would’ve required a miracle.

Now?

He’d already managed to talk to women without his brain short-circuiting. He’d grabbed breasts. He’d grabbed asses. He’d even managed to do it without immediately wondering whether someone was about to call the police.

Granted...

Most of those women, well just two, were well over fifty.

But that wasn’t the point.

’They don’t look fifty.’

Max firmly believed that deserved to be counted as a separate achievement.

In his old world, someone in their fifties had a very specific image attached to them in his head.

Here, apparently, the laws of aging had taken one look at mana and decided they weren’t interested in participating.

Zerena didn’t look fifty.

Yennefer certainly didn’t look her age either.

’Still...’

He couldn’t help feeling a little proud of himself.

A hundred Chapters ago, he would’ve needed a System quest, divine intervention, and probably three months of mental preparation just to start a conversation.

Now he was casually walking into herb shop, negotiating with a hot women, teasing her, and occasionally doing things that would’ve made his old self stare at the screen in complete disbelief before immediately putting a hand down his pants.

’That was the time...’

Max thought to himself.

Back then, he’d been sitting around with his penis in his hands.

Now, things had improved considerably.

His hands were occupied with something far softer—and considerably more pleasant.

Zerena’s breasts.

He absentmindedly fondled them while his eyes lingered on her pinkish areolas. Their color was slightly darker than the surrounding skin, with a subtle sheen that caught his attention. They were round enough to stand out, though their size remained fairly proportional to the rest of her breasts.

Max stared for another moment before finally asking,

"So... do you want to do the thigh one first, or the other one?"

Zerena still looked troubled.

Even after she’d made up her mind the previous night, after Max had nearly given her a heart attack with his sudden decision to go further, she’d accepted one simple fact.

She couldn’t afford to hold back anymore.

If keeping Max close meant putting up with his ridiculous demands—even something as embarrassing as masturbating with him—then she’d do it.

Still...

That didn’t mean she had to enjoy every part of it.

"I don’t want to do it after you cover my thighs in your cum..." she muttered.

Max had finally given her enough room to pull her shorts down, though he’d made that considerably harder than necessary.

For the past few minutes, he’d been busy kissing her neck, stealing kisses from her lips, and enthusiastically fondling her breasts.

At this rate, Zerena was already running out of breath.

"Though... it’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this..." she added.

Then the realization hit her.

If it weren’t for Max, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d thought about anything remotely related to sexual pleasure.

Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even looked down there for a reason that wasn’t bathing.

Then Max had appeared with his weird, perverted system and somehow turned that part of her body into a daily source of trouble.

Apparently, it wasn’t only useful for peeing.

Who would’ve thought?

And the more annoying question was...

After being dragged into all this so often, had she actually started craving the things she’d spent so many years ignoring?

It did.

And that was the annoying part.

She didn’t want it to stop because it was unpleasant.

Quite the opposite.

Who the hell disliked orgasms? It was practically getting high without needing to swallow anything questionable first. And the relaxation afterward was even worse.

Nothing she’d ever taken to help her sleep had relaxed her that completely.

The only reason she wanted it to stop was the same reason she hadn’t wanted to start in the first place.

Max.

For god’s sake, he was her step grandson.

Even if she sometimes thought of him as little more than a slave with a salary, he was still technically her blood relative.

Max might be doing all of this because he enjoyed it.

She didn’t.

At least, that was what she’d kept telling herself.

But she’d already gone along with it more times than she cared to count. And ever since he’d started producing A-grade potions, the hesitation she’d once had was becoming harder to justify.

With a quiet sigh, she slowly lowered her shorts and reached down.

Her fingers brushed through the hair she’d touched almost every day while washing herself.

Normally, it was nothing worth thinking about.

Today...

It felt different.

A small electric sensation ran through her the moment she touched herself.

She’d felt that same strange sensitivity plenty of times over the past few days—usually when Max’s penis brushed against her or when his fingers happened to touch her there.

But this was different.

This time, it was her own hand.

And that was what caught her off guard.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d touched herself like this for anything other than washing. Max hadn’t just managed to drag her sex life out of retirement. He’d somehow convinced her to start doing the job herself.

As Max continued playing with Zerena’s nipple, his touch seemed to give her hand the encouragement it needed. Her fingers pressed down more firmly as she massaged herself, a quiet moan escaping her.

"...Ngh..."

She was surprised by how wet she’d already become.

Her fingers slipped slightly, making her pause for a moment before she adjusted her touch. Knowing her own body, she focused on the sensitive area near the top, where the thickest part of her pubic hair grew.

Another soft moan escaped her.

Meanwhile, Max continued fondling her breasts and kissing along her neck, giving her far too many things to focus on at once.

Somehow, that only made her hand bolder.