Ultra-Level Weeb: Rise in an Awakened World

Max somehow looked even more embarrassed.

He lowered his head, refusing to answer, his cheeks growing noticeably red.

Despite his apparent shame, however, his hands stubbornly remained exactly where they had been for the last several minutes, absentmindedly resting on her breasts as though they’d developed a mind of their own.

Had Zerena been paying closer attention, she might have realized that the picture didn’t quite add up.

Instead...

She was far too distracted.

And, much to her annoyance, genuinely wondering why he’d chosen to masturbate right before they were about to carry out yet another one of the system’s ridiculous tasks.

Still moving her hand, she looked up at him again.

"Do you... do it every time before we start these?" she asked.

Max hesitated for a moment.

Then, without lifting his head, he gave another small nod.

Zerena stared at him.

"You do?"

Her confusion only deepened.

"Why?"

Without really noticing, her hand began moving a little faster than before, her grip tightening slightly as she waited for an answer.

Max flinched at the sudden change, though whether it was the tighter grip or the question itself was difficult to tell.

Feeling an unexpected sense of danger, he answered almost immediately.

"Because..." he muttered, avoiding her eyes. "I feel guilty if I do it afterward."

The reply caught Zerena completely off guard.

Her hand stopped.

For a moment, she simply stared at him.

She’d been convinced he enjoyed every part of these ridiculous tasks. The way he eagerly kissed her, touched her, and carried out every assignment the system threw at him certainly hadn’t suggested someone burdened by guilt.

Yet...

This didn’t sound fake. If anything, it sounded strangely sincere. A quiet thought crossed her mind. ’...So he feels guilty too?’ The realization softened her expression just a little.

Without saying anything, she shifted a little closer until they were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder.

"Why?" she asked quietly.

Her hand resumed its slow movement, still wrapped in the black lace. The grip remained firm out of habit, but the hurried pace from moments earlier had disappeared, replaced by slower, more careful strokes as she waited for his answer.

Max acted surprised by the question.

His eyes lifted to meet hers for a moment before quickly dropping again, suddenly very aware of how close they were. Her thigh brushed lightly against his, making it even harder to keep his thoughts in order.

"You’re... family," he said quietly.

His voice carried an awkward sincerity that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

"You shouldn’t have to do things like this."

He hesitated, searching for the right words.

"If I were any better... I should’ve found some other way to help the family. Something that didn’t involve making you sit here... naked..." His voice grew quieter with every sentence.

"...and giving me a..."

He stopped.

His mind abruptly went blank.

’...Wait. What is this even called?’

A handjob...?

But she was using her panties too.

’Does that still count?’

His brain desperately searched through years of completely useless internet knowledge and, for the first time in its life, came up empty.

After several painfully awkward seconds, he settled on the safest answer he could think of.

"...Handjob," he finished uncertainly, sounding like someone answering a test question he was only thirty percent confident about.

Hearing that, Zerena couldn’t help smiling, looking almost a little proud.

Which, unfortunately for her, was exactly the sort of expression Max’s brain interpreted as permission to become even greedier.

The tension gradually left her arm as her movements became smoother, the black lace wrapped around his penis sliding back and forth with increasing ease.

"You don’t have to..." she said softly, sounding almost pleased that he’d thought about the company first.

For a brief moment, Zerena found herself realizing she’d done her job a little too well.

Somewhere along the way, she’d managed to convince Max that helping her wasn’t just practical—it was practically a family obligation.

"I’d do anything for family, so what’s a little—"

The words caught in her throat.

Her eyes drifted downward.

The black lace had already darkened slightly near the tip, a small bead of precum slowly soaking into the fabric. She stared, then looked back at him.

Then back down again.

"...little handjob," she finished a second later, her voice noticeably less confident than when she’d started the sentence.

She smiled, even shifting a little closer until barely any space remained between them.

Close enough that Max could’ve reached almost anywhere on her body if he wanted.

The same was true for her.

Keeping the panties wrapped around his penis with one hand, she let the other drift lower, idly rubbing slow circles across his stomach before stopping just above his waist.

Her thighs, however, remained pressed tightly together.

More out of habit than anything else.

She still had no idea how much trouble Max could get into with nothing more than her bare armpits.

Now she was sitting completely naked in front of him, her pubic hair plainly visible, yet somehow she still found herself worrying about the same ridiculous things.

"Just... do it quickly," she muttered.

"I can’t..." Max admitted.

A faint frown appeared on Zerena’s face.

Seeing the guilty look on his face, some of her own irritation softened almost immediately.

Then he scratched the back of his neck before quietly adding,

"I might... if we kiss."

Zerena stared at him for a long second.

Then her eyes slowly drifted downward.

Even in her hand, his penis continued giving slow, insistent throbs beneath the black lace. A faint sheen of precum had already begun soaking into the fabric, yet from the way it reacted, she could tell he wasn’t anywhere close to finishing.

With a quiet sigh, she looked back at him.

"Just tell me when you’re about to orgasm..." she said.

Before Max could answer, she reached up with her free hand, gently cupping the back of his head.

Then she pulled him forward.

Their lips met once more.

At the same time, her other hand never stopped moving, continuing its slow, steady rhythm as the black lace slid over him while she kissed him with the resigned patience of someone determined to get the job done as efficiently as possible.