Chapter 31: Chapter 31

I shut the door behind me, the lock clicking into place, and slumped down on my couch. My whole body still buzzed from earlier, but the first thing I did—like a junkie chasing a hit—was open the main menu.

The blue window shimmered into view, crisp text scrolling in front of my eyes.

Good, good, good. I’d leveled up. The screen confirmed it—clear as day. Not only that, but I had five unspent points just sitting there waiting for me. Three from leveling up, two from completing that risky quest.

Though… credits. Shit. I was still tight on those. Couldn’t buy much from the shop unless I scraped more together, and that meant grinding it out through quests. But whatever—credits were secondary. If I leveled high enough, I wouldn’t even need half the shit in the store. Power beat currency any day.

I tapped the window, pulling up my profile:

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Name: Evan Marlowe

Age: 21

Height: 179 cm

Weight: 73 kg

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Level: 3

EXP: 85 / 239

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Level three. It looked good, but reality hit quick—the bar had stretched longer. The EXP curve had climbed, and now, instead of scraping by with a handful of quick wins, I needed something more. A grind. But hell, if the logic held, quests would give more EXP to match, right? High risk, high reward.

My eyes slid down the panel to my stats, the part that mattered most.

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CURRENT STATS

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Strength: 2

Charm: 5

Libido: 3

Pleasure: 2

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I exhaled slowly. My build looked lopsided already. Charm was the obvious crown jewel—hell, I’d invested there from the very start—and it was paying off. Jasmine had gone from teasing me in line at the station to letting me bend her over in the damn bathroom. That wasn’t just dumb luck. That was numbers working behind the scenes.

Libido… yeah. That one had been worth it too. Old Evan—the shy, stammering version—would’ve blown his load before he even got his pants off. But with this? I’d actually lasted. Controlled it. I wasn’t just playing at confidence anymore; I was backed by it.

Pleasure was still low, but I knew what it did. My cum was basically a drug now, stronger the higher the stat. If I pumped points there, girls would crave me after one taste. But that was long game. That didn’t mean shit if I couldn’t get them into bed first.

“Mm…”

And Strength? Pfft. Yeah, I wasn’t dumb. This wasn’t a fighting sim. I wasn’t about to arm wrestle my way into pussy. Two points was fine; I’d survive without grinding biceps.

I rubbed my chin, muttering to myself like a guy pacing in front of a slot machine. “Five points. What do I do?”

Choices, choices…

I drummed my fingers against my thigh, weighed the options, then nodded. “Alright. Decision made.”

I raised my index finger and flicked across the glowing panel. Points drained into the bars one by one.

Three into Charm—bringing it up to 8. One into Libido—up to 4. And the last into Pleasure—3 now, not just a forgotten number at the bottom of the pile.

The panel flickered, updating in front of me:

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CURRENT STATS

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Strength: 2

Charm: 8

Libido: 4

Pleasure: 3

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A knock rattled the door.

I dragged myself up from the couch, still buzzing faintly from the stat upgrade glow, and pulled it open.

Kim stood there. Tank top clinging to her tits, hotpants cut so short they left little to imagination. Her arms were raised as she tied her hair back, exposing smooth pits that somehow looked sexy as hell, little beads of sweat glistening from the summer heat. Her thighs—thick as fuck—were planted in an easy stance, like she knew exactly how good she looked.

“Hey,” she said, finishing the knot in her hair and letting her arms drop. Her smile was warm, guilt tucked behind it. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry for not inviting you to dinner again.”

“It’s fine,” I said quickly, even though it hadn’t been. “You guys are… I mean, you guys need time.”

“The dinner will be ready in ten.” She leaned in a little, hopeful. “Please, come on. Join us.”

“Are you… sure?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Yes, of course!” she said, not giving me the chance to wiggle out of it. She grabbed my arm, soft tits brushing against me, and pulled me toward the hallway. “We made lasagna.”

“Oh, yummy,” I muttered, giving an awkward smile. My cock stirred against my jeans as her chest dragged against my arm—like, seriously? Was my body this easy now? Fuck.

We headed downstairs, her tugging me along with that playful insistence that didn’t leave room for argument.

She pushed open the door to her place and the smell hit me immediately—rich tomato sauce, garlic, cheese. The kind of smell that wrapped around your stomach and made it growl even if you’d already eaten.

“Kim?” Tom’s voice came from the kitchen. Pots clattered in the background. “Is Evan here?”

“Yes!” she called back, then turned to me with that smile again. “You wait in the living room. We’ll be back.”

“I can help if you—”

“No, no.” She cut me off gently, wagging a finger. “We got it.”

“Oookay.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and stepped into the living room. The couch looked too soft, too homey. Everything in their apartment had that lived-in warmth—plants on the windowsill, family pictures tucked onto shelves. It felt worlds away from my empty place upstairs.

I couldn’t help it—just for a second, my mind wandered. I pictured Kim bent over, those tight hotpants peeled down, me fucking her right there on the table while Tom sat clueless with his dumb grin.

I shook the thought away fast, forcing a deep breath before it got obvious.

Kim and Tom finally brought the food over, laying it on the table. We sat down, the chairs scraping across the floor.

“Dinner from hell,” Kim quipped with a smirk. “Right?”

I chuckled, grabbing my fork. “Right.”

The food wasn’t much to brag about—sloppy pasta with some overcooked meatballs, sauce too watery, a salad that looked like it had been dragged through a fridge. Still, it filled the space and smelled decent enough.

I let the fork slip from my hand on purpose, dropping it to the floor. “Oops.” I bent down.

From that angle, I caught a sight that nearly made my pulse jump out of my neck—Kim’s hotpants, clinging tight to her ass and thighs. Her legs were parted just enough that I caught the soft edge of her panties. Pink. Cute. Dangerous.

Her thighs looked smooth, thick in the right places, pressing against the chair. The kind of legs you just wanted to grab and spread open wider.

I cleared my throat, grabbed the fork, and sat back up like nothing happened.

Kim tilted her head at me. “Hey, did you do something with your… hair?” Her eyes scanned me, almost curious. “You look… good. Like something changed.”

It had to be the Charm points. Perfect. At least I knew they weren’t wasted.

“Oh,” I said, trying to play it down. “Just, you know, started taking care of myself better.”

“Right,” Kim muttered, throwing a glance at Tom. “If only he did the same.”

Tom’s face didn’t even twitch at Kim’s jab. No scowl, no comeback—just that flat, neutral look like he’d heard it all before and got used to swallowing it down.

We kept eating, small talk circling around work, the shitty weather, little nothings that filled the silence.

Then Kim leaned forward to cut into her lasagna and—plop—sauce slid right off her fork and splattered against her tight tank top. Right between her tits, red streak trailing down over the fabric.

She gasped, then laughed. “I’m such a klutz,” she said, flashing a smile, brushing at it uselessly. The sauce only smeared, darkening the thin cotton. “I’ll be back shortly. Need to change this.”

“I’ll head to the toilet as well,” Tom said, standing. “Be right back.”

“Oh,” I muttered, nodding. “Okay.”

Kim groaned at him, already pushing her chair back. “Don’t leave our guest alone, you idiot! Stay with him. I swear, he just—he doesn’t know what to do.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” I said with a quick smile, trying to smooth it over. “You guys can go. I have to make a phone call anyway.”

“See?” Tom said, brushing past.

“This guy…” Kim muttered, rolling her eyes as she walked away.

Truth was, the phone call was bullshit. I just didn’t want them sparking another fight right in front of me. Lately, it felt like they were snapping at each other over the dumbest things—like Tom not installing the damn table right. Shit like that. Ridiculous.

I watched them leave, my eyes glued to Kim’s hips swaying as she disappeared down the hall. Those hotpants hugged her ass like a second skin, the fabric stretched to its limit.

Fuck. Her pussy was damn near visible through the cut of those shorts. Just a sliver of pink teasing me, like she was doing it on purpose.

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath, my cock twitching against my jeans. “Should I rub one out before I pop a raging boner, I wonder…”

I leaned back in my chair, scrubbing a hand over my face. My brain kept replaying it—her tits bouncing when she laughed, the sauce sliding over that thin top, her thighs pressing against the chair, smooth and begging to be touched.

“Focus,” I growled quietly, trying to shake it. “She’s got a boyfriend. Don’t be like that…”

Still, my eyes lingered down the hall where she vanished, hunger twisting in my gut.

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Quest Available

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Title: What table?

Task: Fuck Kim

Reward: 89 EXP

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Accept Quest? [Yes] [No]

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“Ugh,” I muttered. “Get out of here.”

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