The True Endgame 234 Vol. 4 Pt. 37 Patch 7.0:

"Oh," Fenrir says.

Azalabulia doesn't say anything. She just stays still, crouching in front of him, with her face directly in front of his and her eyes spinning from embarra.s.sment and having no idea what to do as her face burns the hottest she's ever felt before.

Fenrir realizes that he should have known something was going to happen. Maybe it's just because so much has already happened today that he wasn't thinking anything else crazy possibly could have happened, but here he is. Something else crazy happened.

And that something else is that he's been taking turns making out with Serra and… Azalabulia.

They played him perfectly.

At least now he knows that Nell and a blindfold will always mean trouble no matter what. That is, unless he's the one putting the blindfold on her.

No, even then, she'd probably fantasize about something weird and about how that could possibly go wrong.

Right now, Fenrir just wants to figure out what to do.

Try to say something smooth? Now would be the time, but… he has no idea what to say. Try to explain that he didn't know what was going on? No, she already knows that he has no idea what was going on. Pretend that he did know what was going on the whole time so that he doesn't feel as fl.u.s.tered? He doesn't think that he'd be able to pull that off in a convincing way.

That leaves him with one option: have no idea what to do.

While he awkwardly stays sitting on the ground, he finds his eyes drifting downward to a wonderful sight.

Nyaiko's b.r.e.a.s.t.s were larger than Azalabulia's, but they were ridiculously large and that took away much of the appeal of b.r.e.a.s.t.s. At least, to Fenrir. Ca.s.siel didn't seem to mind as much. But, when it comes to Azalabulia, she has the largest, not-wannabe-hentai chest out of the group. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s are even larger than Ca.s.siel's, and now he gets to see this up-close and personal as her ma.s.sive b.r.e.a.s.t.s are hanging down in front of him with her cleavage begging for his eyes to stare.

If only she'd lower herself a bit more, he'd be able to feel her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressing down against his crotch. She's trying not to do that right now. Probably because it would have given away that something was wrong if he felt her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressing against him when Nell was supposed to be kissing him. While Nell's chest is perfect as well by Fenrir's standards, they would not be able to almost reach his crotch while kissing him.

Fenrir not only has no idea how to react in this situation, but he has no idea that Nell and Serra have both snuck back and are watching from a distance.

"I… uh," Fenrir says.

Azalabulia's eyes are still spinning around in embarra.s.sed fl.u.s.terment.

Fenrir takes a deep breath and says, "I'm going to be honest. I have no idea how to react."
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Azalabulia turns an even brighter shade of red.

Kissing her was nice, and his girlfriends have all been pus.h.i.+ng for him to hook up with Azalabulia even more than him, so… it's alright, isn't it?

Wait, does this make his girlfriends cucks if they want him to do things with another woman? Does this make him the protagonist of one of those filthy netorare doujins that he has always hated coming across? Is Azalabulia the ugly b.a.s.t.a.r.d who corrupts his innocence and steals him away from his girlfriends?

He looks her over.

No, she's just embarra.s.sed and looks like she's about to literally explode from the steam coming off of her head and how red she is.

This isn't netorare, either. He and his girlfriends are just apparently a bunch of deviants who want a larger harem.

Mustering up whatever courage he has hidden within him, Fenrir reaches one hand around to place on the back of her head so that he can pull her closer.

Azalabulia lets out a quiet squeak similar to Ca.s.siel's squeaks when she feels him touch her, but then closes her eyes and puckers her lips because of what she thinks – because of what she hopes is about to happen. Fortunately, she made the right decision.

Their lips press together in a soft kiss. This time, Fenrir actually knows who he's kissing, and that makes it all the better for Azalabulia.

He'd be lying if he said that kissing her is as enjoyable as kissing his girlfriends. Part of him feels guilty for kissing somebody he's not actually dating, part of him feels guilty for kissing her when he doesn't like her as much as he loves his girlfriends, and part of him – well, the last part of him just feels excited that he's kissing her. Even if he doesn't like her as much as he loves Serra, Ca.s.siel, and Nell, kissing somebody new is exciting.

This harem thing is taking more to get used to than he thought it would. While he's always loved harems in anime, manga, and hentai, he's never thought about just how it might really feel to get close to so many different girls.

But, that doesn't stop him from kissing Azalabulia. His ears are twitching and his tail is even wagging behind him which lets his peeping girlfriends know that he's enjoying himself.

Fenrir's and Azalabulia's lips part after another minute of kissing.

"How uh… how was it?" Fenrir asks her. He had no idea that he could still act so virgin after having three girlfriends.

Azalabulia has a wide grin on her face and a lovestruck look in her eyes, though. She looks really happy.

It's hard for him to believe that, until just these past twenty-four hours, he had no idea that Azalabulia even liked him. There might have been a subconscious suspicion, but he had no actual idea that things were going to turn out like this. He figured he'd just always have his current three girlfriends and never anybody else.

Now that he's thinking about it, though… he wonders just how many members are going to get added to this harem of his – or rather, of Serra's.

That perverted munchkin just wants to add every attractive girl she sees to the harem.

Fenrir is pretty sure she's mainly into girls at this point and is just making an exception for him.

Though, the same could be said about Ca.s.siel and Nell. Neither of them has ever brought up the idea of adding more guys into their relations.h.i.+p, and he never catches any of them looking at other men. Even when they're around men who Fenrir knows are more attractive than him, both in-game and in reality, he never sees their eyes straying. Well, unless there's an attractive woman around. Then their eyes stray.

Now he's realizing that it might be dangerous to take his girlfriends out to areas where other women will be. They're like a pack of lionesses waiting for a victim to pounce on. They pick a target, weaken her, and then toss her to him for him to finish her off.

This might feel like a harem at times, but Fenrir knows that this is not his harem. If anything, this is his girlfriends' harem.

He doesn't want to be left out.

Looking down at Azalabulia's chest… it's alright, right?

While Azalabulia's still-spinning-but-lovestruck eyes stare at his face, Fenrir reaches his hands up underneath her hanging b.r.e.a.s.t.s and gropes them both.

Azalabulia's eyes stop spinning. Instead of spinning, they stare directly at him as a look of panic takes over her face.

Fenrir had no idea a face could become this red. Her face went as red as possible and then went beyond – plus ultra red.

He half expects to get slapped any time now. That's what would happen if this was some sort of anime.

Instead, he… thinks that he broke her. Azalabulia just stares directly at him without moving. It's kind of creepy in a way.

"Are… are you alright?" he asks her.

He doesn't get a response.

He lets go of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Still nothing.

Then, what if…

He squeezes her b.r.e.a.s.t.s again. No response. There's one more thing that he can try.

While keeping his hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, he leans his head forward to press his lips against her own one more time.

At least fondling Ca.s.siel's b.r.e.a.s.t.s so much has taught him how to handle b.r.e.a.s.t.s this large. While fondling and kneading Azalabulia's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his lips kiss hers in a soft, slow kiss.

Azalabulia finally breaks and faints, falling onto him with her face against his chest, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his crotch, and the rest of her body limp.

When he tries to get a look at her face, her eyes are shut and her lips are slightly parted and breathing softly.

She panicked and got out of the game.

Fenrir has no idea what to do with her body now, and he has no idea how to feel that he made her panic to the extent that she woke without saying a word. Did he f.u.c.k up? Now he really feels guilty.

Meanwhile, in reality, a mature woman too old to be fangirling and squealing so much is currently rolling around on her bed with a pillow held over her face to m.u.f.fle her fangirlish screams.