The True Endgame

Chapter 245

Fenrir has no choice but to lie back and allow Serra to bite him wherever she wants to. Well, he does have a choice, but there"s no real choice when both his body and mind are yelling at him to let her do whatever she wants to him.

And he"s really happy that he"s letting her do whatever she wants. Especially now that her lips are gently planting light kisses along his bruised abdomen down toward his crotch. Each kiss of her lips is lower than the last one, and it doesn"t take long before Serra reaches his pants.

With her teeth only, Serra undoes his pants and gets his c.o.c.k to pop out from them.

Now, to make things easier for herself, she climbs up onto him and positions herself so that she"s sitting down on his chest, her rear facing him, and then she lowers her head toward his c.o.c.k.

While Fenrir has been enjoying letting her do everything thus far, he"s not going to pa.s.s up the opportunity now that she"s presenting it to him.

He can easily see up her skirt thanks to this position. The sight is practically begging for him to do something, so he slides both his hands up underneath her short skirt to take firm handfuls of her a.s.s. Serra may be the shortest of them all, and she might not have much of a chest, but she"s always had the widest hips which also translates to having the nicest a.s.s.

As Fenrir"s groping fingers squish down against her, Serra, with a smile on her lips, softly blows on the tip of his length just to tease him. Of course, since she"s such a good, caring girlfriend, she only teases him for a few seconds before letting her tongue roll out from her mouth to lick around the tip of his length.

Now she"s really teasing him. The tips of her fingers tease his underside by lightly tapping against it, rubbing it for a second before pulling away, and occasionally reaching down to his hanging orbs.

Fenrir wants more. He can"t see what she"s doing, but he"s sure that she"s got a smug smile as she"s doing it.

And she does.

That smug smile on her lips remains the entire time that she teases his length.

Even when Fenrir tries to rub against her crotch with one of his hands, nonverbally asking for her to do more by trying to give her pleasure, that just makes her tease him even more slowly than before.

At least his girlfriend isn"t a real s.a.d.i.s.t. Otherwise, she wouldn"t be burying his c.o.c.k inside of her mouth – swallowing its tip down into her throat and rubbing her tongue along his shaft.

Fenrir lets out an immediate groan of pleasure and relief once she finally starts sucking on his c.o.c.k. Though, as soon as he gets distracted and stops touching her, she stops as well.

He sees how it is.

The more he plays with her by groping her rear and rubbing against her crotch over her panties, the more she swallows his length, sucks on it, and licks it. She even leaves one hand around the base of his length to pump and squeeze while her other hand ma.s.sages his sack.


But, even with Fenrir trying to keep her satisfied enough to continue working his c.o.c.k with her mouth, she stops after a couple of minutes.

"Why – why"d you stop?" he asks.

Serra scoots up, spins around so that she"s sitting on his abdomen and facing him, and smiles.

One of her smaller hands reaches behind herself to grip his c.o.c.k by its base as her other hand reaches into her skirt, pulling her panties aside to leave her pa.s.sage exposed and ready for him.

As much as Fenrir might still be tempted to try and take control of this for himself – a.s.serting his dominance and being the "man" right now… he"s not going to stop her if she wants to ride him.

Serra lifts her hips, lines his c.o.c.k up to her p.u.s.s.y, and lowers herself onto it.

Her smug smiles turns into quivering lips of pleasure, forcing her to bite her lip as she struggles to take in the entire length of his size into her smaller body.

At least she has pain turned off.

With his length fully sheathed within her, she lets her head roll back and her back arch.
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She regrets not taking her clothes off before this since it"s so hot now.

Fortunately, she can take off everything except her boots and panties with ease, sliding the rest up and off over her head.

Now Fenrir gets an even better sight to look at as Serra slides up and down his c.o.c.k, rocking her hips against his. Her pet.i.te, handful-sized b.r.e.a.s.t.s may not be large, but they still jiggle and serve to make him even more aroused and pleasured as she moves her body.

Then Serra stops, leaving only the tip of his length inside of her.

"Why?" Fenrir asks, biting his lower lip.

"Ask for it," Serra says.

"Keep doing it."

"Say please."

"Please keep doing it?"

That smug smile of hers returns. "Keep doing what?" she asks.

The urge to take over again is rising for Fenrir. But, it"s not so strong that he can"t still play along. "Please keep riding me," Fenrir asks.

Serra drops her hips again. "G-good doggy," she moans out.

Despite the fact that Serra is the one playing at being on top and being dominant, it"s her looking like she"s unable to resist the pleasure. She looks happier than Fenrir that she"s moving her hips again.

Her pace of lowering and raising her hips speeds up every few seconds. She wants to tease him some more, make him beg and plead and moan, but… she can"t resist the pleasure herself. She wants to c.u.m as much as she wants to make him c.u.m, so she decides that the best way to go about that is to lighten up on the dominant play to instead ride him to the best of her ability.

And so she does.

Her hands rest down against his muscular chest, dozens of bitten bruises left all it, as she rides his c.o.c.k.

Moans escape both of their lips as they lose themselves in shared pleasure.

Since Serra is clearly done acting dominant, Fenrir places his hands up on her hips to hold her as he starts thrusting up against her. Each time she drops her hips, he thrusts his upward. When she raises hers, he lowers his. The result is his c.o.c.k slamming even harder into her with every thrust, making Serra"s back arch even more.

Since it"s only virtual reality, neither of them has to worry about c.u.mming inside. Though, even if it was real life, at least one of them wouldn"t be worried about it.

Just as their pleasure and efforts are shared, so too are their o.r.g.a.s.ms as they each moan out and c.u.m at the same time. Fenrir"s thick c.u.m floods into Serra as she raises one hand to rest on her abdomen where she can feel him filling her.

Getting to feel so full like this just makes Serra want it even more in real life.

With their o.r.g.a.s.ms over, Serra collapses onto his chest with a happy smile and tired panting.

"Give – give up on the dom play?" Fenrir asks.

"More fun to just do it," Serra answers.

He rubs the back of her head and places a kiss on the top of it.

"Guess the innkeeper was right about you not needing too long," Serra teases, looking up at him. She"s too tired now to look smug, though.

"Is that so?" Fenrir asks.

Serra opens her mouth to say something, but her eyes go wide when Fenrir flips her over and pins her down against the bed.

"This is payback for making me submit," Fenrir whispers into her ear, causing Serra to bite her lower lip.

"Then punish me," Serra says.

"There"s no winning against you."

"Because I"m unbeatable."

"It"s true. You are."

Serra leans her head up to place a kiss on his lips, and then he leans his head down to place a kiss on hers.

"I love you, Serra," Fenrir says.

"I love you too, Ryouta," Serra replies. "Now punish me."

Needless to say, there is plenty of "punishment." Though, it is a punishment that Serra is very happy to receive.

A short time later and both of them come walking down the steps with room key in hand.

"Knew you wouldn"t need more than an hour," the woman at the counter says. She still has enough energy to be smug.

Serra just gives her a thumbs-up as Fenrir hands the key over with messy hair and flushed cheeks.

"Need a comb there?" the woman asks Fenrir.

It"s not just his hair that"s messy, but his tail, too.

Fenrir gives up on trying to not only keep his hair and tail clean but neat as well.

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