Chapter 171: [Vol. 3 pt. 34] Patch 6.0: A Royal Meal

Oleander and Serra struggle to hold back Cassiel and Nyaiko at the sight of what Nell is trying, but fortunately for them, the heavy Rock plops herself down on top of Cassiel to make their task easier. Since Nyaiko is still a new player, Serra’s strength gained from carrying around cannonballs and loading cannons all the time means that she is strong enough to restrain Nyaiko.

“You’ll get your turn later,” Oleander whispers to Cassiel, dragging her backward while Rock stays lying on top of her abdomen.

“You might not. Depends on Cass Cass,” Serra whispers to Nyaiko while following Oleander with Nyaiko in tow.

“I kinda want to stay and watch,” Oleander whispers to Serra now.

“Same, but they won’t behave,” Serra whispers back to him.

While those two perverts want to sit back and enjoy the show, Cassiel and Nyaiko just want to join in out of jealousy.

Though, Cassiel does calm down quickly and comes to the conclusion that it’d only be fair to let Nell have some fun with him. Of course, she also comes to the conclusion that she has to have some private time of her own with Fenrir later to make it fair.

Meanwhile, Fenrir embraces his increased, in-game confidence and refuses to look away from the sight that Nell is offering him.

Her breasts, while not large, are not small by any means. Serra’s can fit in the palms of his hands while still giving him a bit to squeeze, Cassiel’s are large enough that his fingers can’t fully reach around them, and Nell’s are right in-between the two’s leaning more towards Cassiel’s.

“P-please, my hero, it is embarrassing when you stare so perversely at my breasts,” Nell says, the confidence in her voice now gone.

“What’s wrong? You’re the one who just told me you can’t hold yourself back any longer,” Fenrir says.

“It – now that I have come this far, my heart is beating so quickly that I feel as if I am going to pass out. I do not wish to die from embarrassment,” she explains, raising her arms up to fold over her chest.

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, Nell. You’re beautiful, and the real deal is even better.” Finding confidence is already easier when Ryouta is playing the role of Fenrir, but it is an almost trivial thing to do when he’s with somebody whom is so much more nervous than he is.

“You are lucky that I am too flustered to try and ruin your attempt at being smooth, my hero.”

“Then I’ll just have to fluster you even more, my princess.”

Nell lowers her head to hide the massive smile that she can’t hold back from hearing him call her his princess.

Fenrir, ignoring the fact that he’s still bleeding, steps back up to her and takes her hands into his own. Though, her tail whips around to cover up her breasts as soon as her hands are pulled away from them.

“I don’t have any more hands, you know,” Fenrir teases her.

“I – I know, my hero, but it is just so embarrassing. Even if both my heart and body want this, my mind is not prepared,” Nell explains.

“Being prepared isn’t required as long as you want it.”

“You wish to force yourself unto a maiden before she is prepared?”

“If that’s how you want to look at it, sure. I’m the feral wolf of your fantasies coming to force myself onto you. Woof. Or… if I try to copy Nyaiko, I guess I should say wan.”

Nell looks up at him and giggles while asking, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s the sound of a dog in Japanese.”

“Wan?”

“Is it bad that hearing you say that just really turned me on?”

“Probably, my hero, probably.”

With the mood shifted to one more casual, Nell finds her shoulders relaxing and her heart no longer preparing to jump out through her chest.

“We – we should really do something about your face,” Nell says, touching next to where she cut him.

“Wow, here I am trying to be flirty and do lewd things with you, and you go and call me ugly,” Fenrir teases some more.

“That – that is not what I meant! I meant—”

“I know what you meant, Nell,” Fenrir says, placing his lips against hers before she has a chance to respond again.

Not even aware that he is doing it, the way that he kisses Nell is much gentler than the sorts of kisses that he gives Serra and Cassiel. Kissing Serra is usually soft and quick, kissing Cassiel is a bit rougher and with more tongue, but the way that he kisses Nell is gentle, slow, and he treats every part of her as if she is a delicate, glass flower that will shatter from the slightest mistreatment. She may have her perverted fantasies, but she looks innocent, pure, and delicate – she instinctually invokes his protective and gentle side.

“It is not fair to kiss me so suddenly, my hero,” Nell says, her voice soft and quiet, once he pulls his lips away from her.

“Are you complaining?” Fenrir asks, looking directly into her eyes.

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“I will never complain about you.”

“Even if I become a deadbeat man who plays games on the couch all day, and if I get a giant stomach from alcohol and chips?”

“I have enough money that I could afford taking care of you in such a condition.”

“Don’t tempt me or else I might actually consider that.”

Once they both finish giggling, Fenrir steps back and starts undressing himself. He pulls off his chainmail and vest to set them aside before getting to work on his pants. However, as soon as his fingers grab the fabric of his pants, Nell grabs him by his wrists and stops him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks her.

“I – I am sorry, my hero, but I… I truthfully do not believe that I am ready for what you have in mind,” Nell explains. “I am sorry for disappointing you.”

Fenrir answers her by kissing her first and then saying, “Don’t worry about it, Nell. We don’t have to go all the way right now. It’ll be even better for us both once you’re really ready for it.”

“Are you not the one who was just telling me I do not need to be prepared?”

“I was just trying to be smooth. Of course being prepared is important.”

“Such a cruel man you are.”

“What have I done to be cruel this time?”

“Nothing, my hero. I just… do not know what else to say at the moment.”

Fenrir looks her over. Even if they’re not going all the way, she still looks flustered and is rubbing her thighs together while her hands act as if she doesn’t know what to do with them.

“How about… I help you with how you’ve been feeling so that you don’t feel so pent up?” Fenrir offers.

“What do you mean?” Nell asks, her brows expressing her confusion.

“Dogs are good at licking, right?”

Nell tilts her head. As perverted as she may be, it takes her a moment to realize what he’s implying. Her face burns bright once she does understand his message.

More importantly, she doesn’t say no.

Fenrir runs his hands over the exposed skin of her torso, slowly working them lower and lower until he reaches the top of her skirt. Fortunately, with how much time he has spent looking at her tail, he knows that he has to unclasp the skirt behind her. The skirt has an opening in it for her tail which is held together by a clasp above her tail.

Her skirt falls free once he has untied and unclasped it.

This is the first time that he has seen this much of her legs. They are more slender than her real ones but are still incredibly attractive to him even if he does prefer her real legs for how thick and soft they look. Plus, these in-game legs of hers have spots of scales running up the outer sides of her thighs.

Nell’s lower lips are every bit as delicate and beautiful looking as the rest of her body. He feels as if even just looking at them wrong is going to break them.

“Pl-please do not stare, my hero. This is even more embarrassing,” Nell whines, covering her face with her hands.

“Should I say something cheesy again to calm you down and potentially ruin the mood?” Fenrir asks.

“I think I would appreciate that. I am worried I will not stay conscious enough to enjoy this if I stay this way.”

“So, you’re looking forward to enjoying it and don’t want to miss out?”

“Of – of course! Do not make me admit such a thing.”

“Alright, alright. Just be warned that if this kills your mood, it’s not my fault. It’s all I can think of to calm you down.”

Nell uncovers her eyes just in time to see Fenrir lying down on the ground.

“Come sit upon your throne, my princess,” Fenrir says, pointing at his face.

Nell is conflicted. She both wants to laugh at how horrendously cheesy and borderline-mood-killing that is, and she wants to pass out from excitement at the idea of getting pleasured by him.

“You are truly something else, my hero.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

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