Party Dynamics in RPGs: Chapter 15
Party Dynamics in RPGs: Chapter 15
8k Words, NSFW]
So.
Party management, sidequests, companion events, random skits… there are a lot of things
that make the party system shine, and we’ve touched upon plenty of those subjects already.
Because, at its core? RPGs are, as the acronym cleverly disguises, games. Of the murder
simulator family, to be more precise. You can have a lot of things in an RPG taken out
without people complaining more than Internet dwellers are already prone to, but you take
away the combat aspect, and there are going to be words.
Words likely cut off from magazines and anonymously sent to the game developer with a
picture of their home, but let’s not dwell on heartwarming childhood memories.
So, back to games, murder simulation, and parties—and no, this isn’t a flashback to my last
birthday. The idea is that a turn-based RPG has the player consider the capabilities of each of
the constituents of their group and then select among the available actions for them to
attempt.
See, if three characters are each trying to do something, and one of them fails because they
are interrupted, blocked, stunned, or turned into a friggin’ frog (worst status effect ever by
far, particularly seeing as Tifa didn’t cure you in the traditional way), then the other character
actions are still there to work part of your plan (ideally; mass frog supremacy could still be an
issue). You, as the player, have a spread of choices that play out in unplanned ways, but your
decisions are still impactful.
And that’s just a layer of the whole cake (not a Christmas one, sadly enough for royal
prosecutors). Consumable items allow every single one of your characters to take the role of a
healer in an emergency, having multiple characters means that the damage is spread out
rather than critically concentrated, diverse specialized roles give flavor to the party’s
composition, and some synergy can be gleaned if the game designer wasn’t criminally lazy or
even more antagonistic than usual, and, other than these, a long list of etceteras also add up to
the list regarding why it’s so important to get a proper, functional party rather than rely on a
single character to bear the brunt of an unbalanced system.
Because a poorly unbalanced RPG? That’s basically the clarion call of hentai RPGs
everywhere, seeing as the game developers tend to be short-staffed amateur studios or lone
individuals that have higher priorities in mind than crunching numbers or, Heavens forbid, be
even slightly original.
Or know enough about coding to force RPG Maker into something other than a poor clone of
obsolete FF mechanics. That too.
But, see, those game devs? Those poor, heroic, valiant souls willing to brave society’s scorn
to bring a solitary young man the illusion of companionship? They, more often than not, in
prioritizing either questionably aimed artistic skills or writing skills unambiguously absent,
craft a story revolving around a single character rather than a party.
And, being so competent at the ‘game’ part of game development… Yeah. They clearly
decide that, if the story is just about a single character, then the party should consist only of
that particular character.
Which means that everything we’ve talked about gets thrown out of the window. The fights
are a constant slog, picking a single action and waiting for the group of enemies to take their
turn at beating up on the poor, loner character like he was a player insert going through his
high school days. It means that there are very few things to do, that every failed action is
disproportionately devastating, and that the optimal choices are readily apparent, and thus no
choices at all. It means that the despondent protagonist goes off on his own, wandering the
streets and back alleys, only having fleeting connections with those who’ll never join his
party.
“Yes, it’s me, Kazuma,” I clarify, seeing as I’m currently transformed into an orc, and there’s
no reasonable way for people to guess my true identity.
“I know who you are; I was greeting you,” somebody who may have the detective class says
through gritted teeth that are a pretty good defense against my particular orc-class exclusive
silence-dealing status effect attack.
“Ah,” I answer.
And then I just stand dumbly in the middle of this unfamiliar back alley, by the side of a pile
of wooden crates that will be turned into a cloud of splinters if a dramatic chase ensues, in
front of Luna, who’s… not wearing her guild uniform, but a rather striking combination of a
purple long coat, tight leather maroon pants with knee-high boots, and a frilly white blouse
that makes me think about Rule 63 pirates in plenty of games with somewhat heterodox
approaches to world history class that a charitable teacher should’ve regarded more kindly in
their evaluation process, no matter how embittered he was by the many years of soul-
crushing dealings with teenagers he had been forced to endure, isn’t that right, Mister
Saotome?
“What are you doing here?” she finally says, presumably fed up with waiting for me to
elaborate.
“Walking,” I answer.
“Wha—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she counter-counter-counters, crossing her
arms under her bust in what can only be a deliberate tactic to distract me from the subject.
It almost works. It's a pity that the blouse is buttoned up far higher than what her usual guild
uniform shows.
Though she does have quite a striking, long, delicate neck that her updo does a wonderful job
of showing off—
“And there it is…” she grumbles, staring down at where my royal toga is now straining away
from my torso.
“It’s a natural reaction,” I automatically protest, lamenting the lack of pockets to shove my
hands in and briefly wondering how many political meetings were ruined in ancient Rome by
undisguised boners.
“To wooden crates?” she asks with an arched eyebrow that lights up the fire of competition in
my heart.
“To blondes who go weak-kneed at the first orgasm,” I answer with a readily defiant
eyebrow.
That is, apparently, something that the Kazuma in Luna’s head wouldn’t have said, going by
her rapid blinking and small yet daring blush symmetrically tinging the outline of
marvelously defined cheekbones.
“Oh, excuse me, I thought an assassin would be up for some risky banter. Forgive my
mistake,” I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest more for effect than to try and
dignifiedly disguise how my toga is slowly falling away from my shoulder.
She blinks at my pectoral display of forcible masculinity, up my arms, slowly pausing over
the part of my toga sliding down a perfectly rounded, smooth deltoid that offers very little
friction, and into my eyes.
Then she, again, raises a damnable eyebrow, this time filled with skepticism.
“All right, I’ll bite; what’s the matter?” she says, taking a couple of steps toward me to close
the distance from ‘cowboys about to gunfight’ to ‘people actually talking.’
I look at the stacked blonde of dubious classes, then at the stacked crates of dubious origins,
and…
Well, I sigh.
I see no reason to restrain myself, so my breathing causes a mild breeze to go across this alley
between windowless houses, scattering a few dust motes and making Luna’s coat swirl open
before I turn around and adopt a Thinker’s pose upon the crate that seems less likely to
collapse under my orcish might, the sitting angle doing a pretty good job at disguising my
not-quite deflated erection that I shield from Luna’s accusatory gaze by leaning farther
forward when I rest my chin on top of the back of my right hand.
That is, of course, when the toga comes undone and slips down, pooling around my waist.
“This is a sculpture-worthy pose. Baring my muscular torso is just for added effect and, of
course, an entirely intentional and dramatic reveal on my part,” I state for the sake of the less
cultured among my audience of one woman.
“Ah.”
Then she rolls her eyes, shrugs, and walks to sit by my side on a neighboring crate that may
not have been able to withstand my full orcish might, but is definitely up to supporting an
assassin-worthy derriere.
“So,” I answer.
She nudges me with her elbow, just in a way that makes me wonder if she just triggered
Backstab like Chris did earlier, and now I’m thinking again about things that I very much
don’t want to think about, and, really, would it be so hard for Luna to just kneel down in cock
worship like we both know she will by the end of this scene without first forcing me to talk
about onahole-goddess-darned feelings?
“No,” I say, her ensuing smile making my left eye twitch. “I’ve got… a whole mess. Among
which is a girlfriend, who just also got her own girlfriend—that’s Darkness and Chris,
respectively. Then I’ve got a thing with Yunyun and Megumin, who I don’t know if they are
official between one another, but are living together, sharing a bed, and making eyes at each
other while a handfed breakfast ensues, so I assume any label other than ‘legally wedded by
the power of being the Crimson Magic Clan heiress’ would be an understatement. There’s
also that part where Aqua and I just passionately admitted that we love one another, but that
was right before she reminded me just how mind-numbingly dumb she can be, and I’m taking
a minute to try and reconcile my undeniable affection for her with how very little I respect
her as a person. Oh, and I also fucked Wiz, who just moved in with us.”
“Also, I may or not have fucked a Guild employee into being addicted to orc dick,” I add, just
because I’m feeling petty enough.
“Who was it?” she asks with a somewhat dangerous glint in her eye that… uh…
I stare at her. She stares back. I raise an eyebrow who’s reached a new plateau of skill and
pure physical might.
“Well, why don’t you nicely suck my dick and conveniently make me forget about the whole
mess waiting for me back home?!”
That is, the side of my body that my dick is less shielded in.
“Aaaaaaaahhhh!” I say as I tightly hug Luna to me and shove her on my lap so that she’ll
fulfill the assassin class role as disposable fodder that the Fate series has taught me they all
are.
“What the Hell are you doing?!” she says, protesting too much.
“Reacting in panic to a friendly greeting in a way that I would find most amusing if it wasn’t
so offensive,” Vanir-chan dutifully explains for me.
“Wha—who’s this girl, and why are you terrified of her?” Luna, poor, sweet, innocent Luna,
asks.
I nervously lick my lips as Vanir-chan’s smirk grows under her half-mask into something
about as sharp as Aqua’s wit isn’t.
“She’s Vanir! Or he’s Vanir-chan! Or, or—look, it’s complicated, and it all stems from very
cultured pieces of literature that you’re unlikely to ever have heard of—”
“No! Not at all! That’s a word reserved solely for Aqua, and I wouldn’t dare cheat on her,
other than for all the girls I’m constantly having sex with that are not Aqua, but, really, she’s
Aqua, so can you blame me?”
“Yes,” one of them says while turning around on my lap to shoot me a look of disgust over
her shoulder that could be very expensive under other circumstances.
“Without a shred of doubt, Kazuma Satou. Your irredeemable status as utter scum is one of
your most endearing traits,” the other girl says before jumping up to sit on top of the crate
I’m occupying, her plush yet petite thigh pushing against my leg in a way that’s perfectly
noticeable even through my toga and her perfectly pressed pants.
“Not at all. I, like you, my dearest Luna, am merely a supportive friend come to listen to
Kazuma Satou’s woes in his time of need with no underhanded intentions whatsoever. Just.
Like. You,” she answers with a placid smile that would make a shark’s balls retreat into their
body.
No hints? At all? Other than your enduring smiling assault against Luna? Darn it, this is
going to bug me all day. Sometimes, I really miss having a smartphone.
“What is even happening?” Luna whispers, succinctly vocalizing my entire thought process
of the past few days.
“That is certainly a good question,” Vanir-chan answers, pointing at Luna with a finger gun
that I hope is not a prelude to a Vanir Beam. “Indeed, that is the very same question plaguing
our very own virile viridian Vanir-boytoy—”
“I’m not a boytoy. I’m either a fuckboy or a manwhore, but I’m no woman’s toy,” I state
with firm aplomb.
“You’re getting laid with six girls who live with you, and I still could easily manipulate you
by flashing some cleavage,” Luna drily states.
She, rather than take my generous compliment in good spirits, jumps up and down in just the
right way for her equally spectacular ass to mash my balls against the inside of my thigh.
“Oh, dear. Would you like me to kiss it and make it better?” Vanir-chan innocently proposes.
“—” I answer.
Luna slides out of my limp arms and, her own arms crossed under something that I’m no
longer interested in checking out, directs a look of scorn between my legs.
“I mean, he’s an orc,” Vanir-chan assists me in said defense. “It’s a wonder you weren’t bent
over one of these crates when I came in.”
“Really.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luna asks, the crossed arms minutely raising up in bust-
emphasizing indignation.
“Let me go!” she protests when I stop her in her tracks by grabbing the back of her coat’s
collar.
“No fucking way. You just bounced on my balls, woman. Now it’s your turn to suffer.”
“Kazuma Satou, yet again, you magnificently display why this new body of mine desperately
wants your seed stuffed in every available orifice.”
“Gah! What is she—is she even serious?! Why would—”
“Why would I say that out loud, Luna? Truly, it’s just a matter of courtesy for one such as I,
seeing as all your inner secrets and desires are laid bare to me. Why would I then withhold
any of the thoughts birthed from my magnificent self?”
“To avoid inflicting trauma on me!” Luna fiercely refutes, still struggling against my hold on
a piece of clothing that, come to think of it, she could easily shrug out of if she had any focus
on the Evasion stat at all.
“You really don’t know Vanir-chan, do you?” I mumble in not-quite sympathy, seeing as she
deserves absolutely everything that’s about to happen to her, except maybe the plentiful
orgasms.
“One could say that, like a statue hidden in the purest marble, I’ve always been here.”
“Couple of days ago. When she decided it would be funny to mess around with whatever the
heck you’d call a harem in which everyone has a loving partner except for me,” I explain.
Luna stops trying to run in place and turns around to look at me with a somewhat confused
gaze.
“You just told me that Darkness is your official girlfriend and that Aqua passionately
confessed her love to you,” she points out.
Which immediately makes it so two people focus on the stacked yet short tomboy sitting by
my side.
“Vanir-chan?” I ask.
“… Sixty-nine?”
Nervously.
“Okay, what the Hell is going on now?” I ask as Luna takes a curious and criminally stupid
step toward us, forcing me to bend my arms so as to accommodate the new distance.
“I… don’t know what you’re talking about?” Vanir-chan says while shyly fidgeting.
“What is even happening?” Luna understandably restates her confusion as I mutely gape at a
cute—at Vanir-chan fretting.
“Nothing! At all. I just explained so with plenty of extraneous and utterly misguiding words,
so you could ignore any part of my statement other than the first premise upon it is predicated
that nothing is happening and, thus, I have done nothing at all, Kazuma Sa—what the Hell is
even happening?!” she asks, being the one caught off guard for once in her existence.
Which is somewhat understandable, seeing as I just pulled her on top of the lap previously
occupied by Luna, mashed her against my bare chest, and rubbed my face on top of
surprisingly soft, short hair that feels like a very expensive brush caressing my cheek.
“Wha—what for?” she asks with a tone that rises and falls quite a lot for how short the line is.
And she slowly turns her head up and blinks at me through the eyeholes in her mask before
shily reaching up to kiss the side of my chin.
“You’re welcome, Kazuma Satou,” she says before nuzzling my chest with a contented
sound.
The moment is, rather than spoiled, somewhat enhanced when Luna lies a single, hesitant
hand on my biceps.
***
“So. Your life is a mess,” the woman responsible for handing out my multi-million debts
says, yet again sitting by my side, yet on a separate crate.
“Life always is messy. It’s why you don’t get tired of it,” a smug girl cuddling on top of my
lap says before yet again rubbing her cheek on my torso to, presumably, mark me with her
scent.
“Please don’t try to sound like you make sense while… wearing that body,” Luna, still not
used to the results of my own weirdness-enhancing field, says.
“Jealous?” Vanir-chan asks, ratcheting up the smug just a bit, but only because it was already
near its max setting.
I hope.
… See? The fact that she hasn’t made a joke about such a tempting thought is what assures
me that she’s been perfectly sincere so far regarding her sealed mind-reading. No matter how
intricate her plotting, she wouldn’t have missed the chance to say something along the lines
of, ‘You think you’ve witnessed the sheer intensity that this Vanir-chan is capable of,
Kazuma Satou? You fool! I’ll have you learn the true depths of the ecstasy that awaits you at
the hands of an existence that surpasses the quintessential smug anime girl!’
“You’re a shortie,” Luna says, trying to sound dismissive. “With nice curves, yes, but, really,
compared to this?” she comments with a very eloquent gesture that encompasses two of her
most spectacular assets. “May as well be Megumin before she drank that potion.”
“Did you forget to deny your attraction to Kazuma Satou just to try and rub my perceived
inadequacies in?” Vanir-chan asks, demonstrating that she definitely needs to get used to
human communication without telepathy.
“I was just stating why it’s so ridiculous that I’d be jealous of you. You have nothing I don’t
have in spades.”
“Is that a blonde joke? Because I can dye my hair, but wearing heels has limits.”
“I thought this was about helping me navigate the perilous depths of my relationship woes
rather than to show me a catfight that, so far, has both of you still clothed and is, thus, sadly
lacking for my current standards,” I sagely point out.
Yet again, this results in two girls glaring at me. It’s a novel experience only in that Vanir-
chan is one of them.
“Is that why you just came out of the Succubus Café?” Vanir asks.
“I’ve read your mind plenty of times to ascertain patterns. Patterns such as that of a lonely
career woman with no time for romance whose urges have been recently rekindled after a
fiery encounter that reminded her of how it feels not to wake up alone in the middle of a cold
night—that can’t have made you harder,” Vanir-chan states, futilely denying factual reality.
“She just makes you want to hug her until all the bad thoughts go away, doesn’t she?” Luna
comments with a sigh that emphasizes her advantages over Vanir-chan’s preferred
manifestation.
“I’m feeling irked for reasons beyond my understanding. I demand cuddling,” the girl sitting
on my lap and, thus, on my sempiternal erection says with a pout as she raises her arms
toward me.
“… Didn’t we agree to be friends for a while before even considering moving forward?” I ask
while resisting the urge to squee like an overweight otaku rolling around on his bed.
“It is Platonic cuddling. And, seeing as I’m currently female, the word Platonic should not
engender any kind of misunderstandings regarding hypothetical homosexual leanings.”
“I don’t know what the Hell you’re talking about,” I say, yet again stating the obvious.
“Just shut up and cuddle me. The mysteries of the female mind are not for you to decipher,
just to enjoy.”
And then I envelop Vanir-chan in a hug that, given our respective sizes, is quite more literally
enveloping than the gesture usually would be.
… It’s nice.
As in… there’s this warmth in my chest, where she presses her head against me, right near
the spot Aqua usually kisses when given the chance to be deliriously affectionate, but now
it’s just soft hair brushing against me and smooth skin lending me her own warmth. It’s… her
arms, not quite reaching around me but still clinging to me, and her breathing turned into
something irregular yet rhythmic, as if she was humming an inaudible lullaby.
It’s soothing.
I don’t lean back, because behind me there’s just a wall of bare stone that radiates a cold I can
feel on my skin, but also… also because I’d rather lean forward and over her. Keeping her
inside of my reach as thoroughly as I am able, feeling the trapped heat of her body rising up
my chest and neck as tension I wasn’t quite aware of slowly drains away, my muscles
softening and my own breathing deepening after every slow heartbeat that seems to mingle
with the tune she hums over my chest.
And… And she turns sideway and reaches for me with her own hug, her bust pressed against
my arm, her face resting over a biceps that would feel slightly more competitive in other
circumstances.
And… And I could come up with some quip. Something to add to the exchange that would
make me feel smart or, at least, smarter than the people around me. I could open my mouth
and…
There’s a brief flaring of anxiety at the realization. At just… Just knowing precisely what it is
that I so often do to women I’ve fought by the side of.
“Thanks,” I repeat, unable to come up with anything better. “Just… thank you. Both of you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Luna says, and not even in a way that would imply threatening me with
bodily harm if I started a rumor about her consoling me in a dark alley.
“What the Hell?” I understandably ask when I open my eyes to find a crimson canopy of
draped silk above me with matching sheets covering my chest.
“Mister Kazuma! I was so worried!” a fretting Yunyun says from my right before a slender
arm goes under the blanket and over my chest as a soft body presses against my side.
I blink a couple of times before I turn to see that, yes, a very naked Yunyun (she still has her
shirt’s collar and tie on) is latched to me and all but tearing up in clear distress.
“What is going on? How did I get here? Why’re we both naked—scratch that last one; I’m
pretty sure I can figure it out.”
“Pillowtalk.”
“The chant?”
“A place that is so pure, so dirty and raw. In the bed all day, bed all day, bed all day.
Fucking in and fighting on—” she recites, her cheeks reddening enough to match the décor.
“It’s—it’s supposed to connect lovers who are apart, and, well, I always thought that if I
ever… I just… I wanted a—a way to make sure I could always be there for somebody I fell
in love with, and… And you ran off in the middle of breakfast, then a lot of things happened,
and before I could talk to you, you’d stormed out of the mansion, and nobody knows where
you are, so… So I cast the one spell I have to make sure I can always be with the people I
love!”
I blink at her.
There’s something stuck in my throat that I’m starting to believe may be an allergic reaction
to Yunyun being adorable. Or, well, just Yunyun.
So I… I lean down and kiss her over her hairline, where her diadem-like braid gives way to
her fringe, which prompts her to redden further before sliding her right arm under my back so
that she can cling harder against my side.
“Thanks,” I mutter, as uncharacteristically grateful as I’ve been over the past hour.
“Don’t. It’s my fault that you were hurt,” she says, rubbing her face side to side on my arm.
She looks up at me with wet, crimson eyes that glimmer unfairly with the surrounding
candlelight, and I can’t help but sigh, even if not harder than it takes for her fringe to flare up
and bare her forehead as she furrows her closed eyes like a miffed kitten.
“There’s nothing wrong with you and Megumin being affectionate,” I finally settle on. “It’s
just that, after yesterday… I kind of… I felt brushed aside, as if you were with the one you
really care for, and—and what the Hell are you doing?!”
“I’m having a serious talk! A heart-to-heart! I’m baring my innermost vulnerabilities and
inadequacies, and you’re telling me I have to do that while you give me a handjob?!”
And, before I can ask her to elaborate, she gets under the sheets and shows me quite
eloquently that, no, a handjob is not what she had in mind.
I blink stupidly at a round lump moving over my waist and under shimmering crimson sheets
that is more or less synchronized with the shy movements of a small, pointed tongue tracing
along the main vein of my dick.
And I facepalm.
“Yunyun, I don’t see how I can have a serious conversation while you suck me off,” I mutter.
“You… It’s… It wouldn’t be the first time?” she says before kissing my very tip with three
soft, slow pecks.
“What—”
“In the dungeon? We… It’s… It wasn’t… If it hadn’t been for your words, I wouldn’t…” she
trails off into something completely unintelligible before she slides up my body, and her
breasts engulf my shaft right as her lips go yet again for my cock’s head.
“My… My words?” I say, trying very hard not to look at the inside of my cranium.
“Your feelings,” she mumbles, her hot breath washing over every part of me wet with her
saliva.
Ah.
Feelings.
Of course.
“That’s… that was a very charged situation, and that’s precisely why we should have a slow
talk and—”
“If I don’t keep going, the spell will end, and I want—need to hear what you have to say,”
she says, some of the fiery girl that comes out in these moments starting to show both in her
tone and the determined way in which she slides her breasts along my shaft while the sheets
cling in very defined curves to her swaying behind.
“I can’t even look at you—” I say, reaching down to throw the blanket off.
And a surprisingly strong hand reaches up from under that very same blanket to grab my
wrist.
“Then don’t. Don’t look at me. Please. I… I want to listen to you, and… and I feel so safe
right now…” she drifts off before giving a maddeningly amorous kiss to my now dripping
tip.
“S—safe?” I ask.
“Hmm,” she happily mumbles. “It’s… the soft light going through the sheet, your smell, your
warmth… I just… I just want to stay like this. Can’t… Can’t I?” she asks with a voice that
brings to mind wide, bright, vulnerable eyes.
Of course, that means that my cock throbs hard enough to splatter a visible stain that is now
darkening the sheet right above the lump that marks the position of Yunyun’s head over me.
She giggles.
“So. You want me to talk. About feelings. While you suck me off,” I state rather than ask.
“Hmmm,” she happily replies with her lips nibbling and humming around my frenulum.
“You’re impossible,” I say as I drop my head on a pillow that, going by the name of the spell,
should be the focus of this whole scene rather than what’s happening at around the height of
my waist.
“Please?” she says right before her lips slowly spread around and down my glans, her tongue
lapping up the precum pouring out of my opening in a way that very much feels like a French
kiss.
Goddamn Frenchmen. Who told you to spread your vicious teachings to this already utterly
unfair girl?
She, rather than answer, corkscrews her lips around my cock as she presses her breasts tighter
against my shaft.
Which, come to think of it, is a pretty eloquent answer, no matter how non-verbal in its
expressiveness.
“Okay, fine,” I mumble before an intense suckling makes me hiss and clench my fists around
now torn bedcovers.
With my cock still in her mouth and between plush breasts, her dangling tie brushing over my
pelvis.
… Yunyun OP. PLZ, nerf. At least down to the level of Vanir-chan, if I’m to keep what little
tattered remains of my sanity I have still clung to.
“I…” I resignedly start talking, if only so I won’t cum down her throat straight away. “I just
feel like… like all of you? Like it’s not real. Like… the me of just a few days ago wouldn’t
have managed to get a single date with any of you, never mind what we’ve already done—”
There’s a very audible suction noise that is accompanied by tactile feedback that makes my
eyes roll back, and then I manage to come back to staring up at a crimson canopy as plush
lips hover right in brushing distance of my glans.
“Date,” she says with the kind of intensity I would associate with Megumin pondering how
many kittens she can bring herself to sacrifice for extra chuuni points.
“What?” I ask with the kind of disorientation that I would associate with Aqua’s everything.
“You’re taking me on a date,” she clarifies before her tongue swirls around my head as her
breasts tighten once more around me, and a toe-curling moan goes from her vibrating lips to
the base of my spine.
Particularly when she nods down to swallow me deep enough for her lips to meet her
cleavage before slowly trailing up as her tongue moves side to side along my shaft, her hands
abandoning her breasts to press down on my lower abdomen as she pushes herself up, the
middle line of her body rubbing all along my cock as she arches up and forward, the crimson
sheet steadily rising until first her glistening breasts are revealed, and then…
Then the sheet slides over soft, black hair, and falls down her back, framing in slow,
glimmering crimson waves the beauty of Yunyun straddling my body and looking at me in a
very un-Yunyun way.
Specifically, like she’s about to devour me. Which makes it somewhat of a relief that my
cock’s no longer in her mouth.
“Yun… yun?” I ask of the more succubus-like being I’ve encountered in this plane of
existence.
“Date. With flowers. And a suit. And a restaurant. And I’ll wear a dress. And you’ll tell me
how beautiful I look, and I’ll shyly deny it and blush as butterflies swirl in my stomach
before you offer me your arm to walk me to our table, and the waiter will say that we look
like a lovely couple, and I won’t know what to say, so you’ll laugh off my embarrassment
and say that you knew just as soon as you first saw me, and it will be a lie, because of course
it will be, but it won’t matter. Not to me. It will just matter that… that we are there, on a date,
together, and that you’ll look at me like I really am beautiful enough to fall in love with, even
if Megumin and Darkness and Aqua were there first, even if I’m just the afterthought, it
won’t matter because you’ll still accept me, and you won’t be embarrassed at all by being in
public with me, or by… by… by kissing my hand. By walking by my side under the
moonlight as I don’t know what to say and end up just looking into your eyes until you ask
me what I’m thinking, and I just don’t have any answer because I’m not thinking, just
feeling. Feeling so… so… much…”
I should be scared.
But I’m yet again living proof of how constantly resurrecting can mess up with your survival
instincts, because my hands are wrapped around the waist of a girl who clearly enjoys nice
boats, and I’m staring straight into crimson eyes as I drag her up my cock, her lower lips
spreading against the underside of my shaft, coating me with a wetness entirely unlike that of
her saliva as she just keeps staring at me, not even looking down at where I’m about to go
inside of her for a single moment as her hands find my wrists and pull my own hands tighter
against her body.
Her heat and tightness surround me, as if pulling at me to go ever deeper, not meeting any
kind of resistance until more than half of my shaft is inside of her.
I pull harder.
Her lips tremble for a single moment before she bites the lower left corner hard enough that
the pink flesh pales, and her eyelids flutter without ever closing entirely as she forces herself
to keep staring at me.
And she raises her legs, resting her calves along my forearms.
“Use me,” she says in a voice that makes my eyelids flutter. “Use me to make yourself feel
good.”
I pull my hips back, the bed groaning under us, and then I rise, pushing deeper than a moment
ago.
Then I do it again.
And again.
And, soon enough, I’m no longer trying to get deeper inside of her but bouncing her on me,
her fringe and pink tie flying up every time I pull her down, her cute gasps accompanying
every bounce as if my cock could forcefully empty her lungs.
I take it as a challenge.
The bed slams against the wall behind me when I up my speed, my hips bouncing as fast as I
can move Yunyun up and down like a very devoted sextoy, and soon her moans and cries
come out, her fingers digging deeper into my forearms, a hint of her nails telling me how
close she is to losing control every time her calves tighten and her feet kick past my elbow
and at my biceps with not enough strength to do anything other than flatter my ego.
And she tightens around me, deliberately, telling me yet again of a girl who trained herself to
be a worthy lover like a worthless NEET trying to keep from cumming until the sex scene in
his shamefully romantic visual novel reached the climax.
Like a moron reading up on sex and erogenous zones, wondering just how much of what he
found was bullshit and how much would make a girl happy enough to stay.
I also stare into her eyes. I also don’t look away. I also try not to even blink.
“What?”
“All the… All the things you need to say. The things you want to say. Tell me—hn! Please!”
“Yunyun—”
“Kazuma!”
“Fine! I’m an insecure wreck! I use being godly at sex to avoid feeling like all of you will
realize just how much better you could do! I will fuck you into a blissful stupor every day of
your life just so you won’t have the brainpower to leave me!”
“Yes!”
“Alone!”
“More!”
And she… shivers, her hips slammed down on top of me hard enough that her meat quivers,
her breasts bouncing wildly long after I stop moving as she thrashes on top of me, contorting
in a mesmerizing way, heroically straining not to look away from my disbelieving eyes as she
moans, trying to form words despite her body seizing up in something that has her spine go
ramrod straight for a single moment before she falls forward, bending over my grip and
between her open legs until her face meets my abdomen and she kisses my sweaty skin
deliriously, as if she was using her lips to try and crawl up my torso, to help her limp neck
bend up until she can once again look at me.
“Use me. Fill me. Feel good with me. Make me feel like I give you something that you want.
Like you need me,” she rants before abruptly stopping to keep kissing my skin as her nostrils
flare, taking in my scent as I notice just how much of hers is overpowering the burning
incense on each side of the bed.
So my fingers tighten yet again around her waist, and I pull her slowly up, stopping when she
hisses, only for her to look at me in reproach.
And I…
As slowly as I can get away with to avoid her suspicious glares, feeling her spasming sex
around me as her body keeps shuddering hard enough for the tips of her nipples to graze over
my skin except when she leans farther down, flattening the round, soft orbs against me just so
she can kiss higher than she had reached before she pulls herself back down with her curved
back and straining legs.
“No. Better. Feel better than ever. Feel as good with me as you want me to feel with you.”
She cries out in a delighted eep that turns into a slow moan when I sink into her body,
pushing her down into the mattress until her pale skin is engulfed by dark crimson satin, until
she can’t move at all as I reposition her legs so her ankles rest on my shoulders and I proceed
to do what every orcish ancestor of mine has been screaming at me to do since I first laid
eyes on the fertile heiress of a magic clan:
A mating press.
Yunyun, at least, seems to think so when I bottom out once again, and her eyes finally roll
back, losing that particular battle in a way that makes me more fulfilled than any victory
before, my balls slapping against her ass soon turning into the sounds of triumph.
So I, trusting both that Yunyun is delirious enough not to question it and that there are no
witnesses around…
“Tata tataaa ta tantan tatan,” I whisper, punctuating every note with a downward thrust into
the receptive girl below me, sinking her farther into the mattress to a triumphant, victorious…
Fanfare.
And, at last, when Yunyun spasms around me yet again, only the whites of her eyes showing
as she keeps trying to say something that sounds vaguely like my name, I cum.
And each and every single rope of semen goes out of me in a roaring blaze of ecstasy that is
made all the sweeter when I manage to nail the ending of the Final Fantasy Victory Fanfare.
So I slump forward, falling on top of her soft body with my arms just holding me far enough
above her that I don’t asphyxiate her, even if she looks like she’s quickly fading away
nonetheless, her eyes peacefully closing as a warm, tiny smile blooms on her lips.
The logical, calm, rational part of my brain realizes that the room itself was no more than a
shared mental construct made up of Yunyun’s magic, and that, with Yunyun unconscious,
Pillowtalk has no way of sustaining itself, so it’s perfectly natural for me to suddenly be back
in the alley I had been in before our chat started.
The not-so-rational part of me is somewhat concerned by Vanir-chan’s unconscious body
slumped against me, held up by my arms, and splattered all over with my cum.
On second thought, there may be reasons for a hentai protagonist to go solo rather than gather
a party.
==========================