CHAPTER 5: CHAPTER 5

I hesitated for a long second, heart pounding. ’Do I... really want to do this?’ My mind raced with every possible scenario. But the truth was simple—I wanted to see her up close. I wanted to touch her, even if it was just through this massage.

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SHOP

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• Aphrodisiac Drink (10c)

• Silk Lingerie Set (25c)

• Sensual Massage Oil (15c)

• Mystery Pleasure Toy (30c)

• Flirt Potion (20c)

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Credits: 50c

Select item to purchase

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I lifted my index finger and tapped the oil’s icon. Immediately, another UI box appeared in front of me:

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Purchase Item

Sensual Massage Oil (15c)

Credits: 50c

Confirm Purchase? [Yes] [No]

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I blinked, sweating slightly. My finger hovered over the "Yes" button. Alright, here goes nothing.

I pressed it, and the UI shimmered. In an instant, the air in front of me seemed to ripple, and a small, sleek bottle of oil materialized in my hands. The label glimmered faintly: "Sensual Massage Oil! Apply liberally for maximum effect."

This was magic. Pure, simple magic.

How did it even materialize just like that? Out of thin air? There had to be some trick—some sleight of hand I missed. But no... I was holding it. The weight was real. The glass cool against my palm.

"Oh, shit..." I whispered, my voice thin, shaking. "It works. This is real. Real, real."

I exhaled hard, the breath rattling out of me. My eyes flicked to the plate of cake Jasmine had shoved into my hands earlier. I set the bottle carefully on the counter, picked up the fork, and jabbed it into the sponge. One bite. Sweet, soft, almost too sugary. But damn—delicious. I nodded to myself, muttering under my breath, "At least one thing tonight makes sense."

I put the fork down, grabbed the bottle again, and stepped out of my apartment. The hallway felt strangely silent at this hour. My pulse was loud in my ears as I walked next door and rapped my knuckles against Jasmine’s door.

She answered almost instantly, like she’d been waiting. Her oversized shirt clung to her shoulder, slipping lower than before. She blinked down at me, then at the bottle.

"What’s that?" Jasmine asked, tilting her head.

"Oh—uh, this?" I fumbled, holding it up like I wasn’t sure how it got into my hand. "It’s, um... special oil. Helps with, you know, muscles. I thought—it might... help with your back."

Her lips curled into a sly half-smile. "Special oil, huh? You’re full of surprises tonight."

I stepped inside. Her place was warm, faintly smelling of vanilla and coffee, like she’d been burning a cheap candle. The living room was cozy but cluttered—throw blankets, a couple mugs stacked near the TV, laundry basket half-forgotten in the corner.

"So..." Jasmine said, her voice pulling me back. She tugged at the hem of her shirt with one hand, watching me with playful suspicion. "Where should I lay?"

"Uh—the couch is fine," I managed, scratching at the back of my neck.

"Alright," she said, already moving. "But I don’t wanna ruin the couch with that oil. Hard to scrub off. I’ll grab a towel. Wait here."

"Yeah, sure."

I froze where I stood, the bottle sweating in my grip. Jasmine turned and walked away, and that was the moment I realized just how dangerous this was going to be for me. Her ass swayed with every step, round and thick, the oversized shirt barely concealing the way her hips curved. My cock twitched in my jeans before I could stop it. I swallowed hard, throat dry, pulse hammering.

"Don’t stare. Don’t you dare."

I stared anyway... damn. Hot fucking damn.

She came back with a folded towel, tossing me a quick grin like she’d caught me peeking but wasn’t going to call me out—yet. She spread the towel over the couch neatly. Then, after lying down, she tugged her oversized shirt up, high enough that the smooth line of her back was exposed.

And because of the way she pulled it, the rest of her lower half was now visible too—black panties hugging her hips, the curves of her ass almost fully on display.

"Go ahead," she murmured into the cushion. "I’m ready."

I stepped closer, my breath caught somewhere between my chest and throat. I couldn’t stop staring. Her skin was soft, bare, glowing in the warm lamp light. My palms itched, my heart screaming against my ribs.

"Don’t drool on me, rookie," Jasmine said suddenly, her tone low and teasing.

I jolted. "W-what? I—I wasn’t— I mean, no, I was just—" I stammered like a fool, words tumbling out broken.

She chuckled, shaking her head against the couch. "Relax, Evan. I’m kidding. Just... you look like you’re about to pass out."

"R-right..." I muttered, my face burning hot.

I uncapped the bottle, the faint scent of something floral and intoxicating spilling into the air. The liquid glistened as I poured it into my hand, slick and warm almost instantly. I looked down at her back, then at my trembling fingers.

I gulped, hard enough that I felt it echo down my chest.

"...Okay," I whispered. "It’s starting."

The oil shimmered against my palm, heavy and warm, and when I pressed it gently to Jasmine’s bare back, it spread across her skin in a glistening sheen. The towel beneath her caught a few drops, but she didn’t seem to care.

Her shirt was bunched high, her body stretched out, every curve offered up without shame. My throat tightened. I let my fingers move in slow circles at first, rubbing carefully, letting the oil sink into her. Her skin was soft, supple, and hotter than I expected, like it was pulling the warmth straight from my hand.

"Mmm..." Jasmine’s voice hummed low in her throat, half a sigh, half a moan. "Damn, Evan... you’re hitting all the right spots already."

The sound hit me like a jolt. I swallowed and kept going, rolling my thumbs over her shoulder blades, down the slope of her back.

"You’ve done this before, haven’t you?" she murmured.

"I mean... a little," I lied, though my hands were shaking less now. "Just... watched some videos. Read stuff. I don’t know if I’m actually—"

She moaned again, deeper this time. "Trust me. You’re doing better than most guys would."

Her praise burned in my chest. I pressed lower, kneading small circles into the center of her back, and she shifted, letting out a shaky breath.

"Oh, yeah... right there. A little lower."

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EVENT

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Jasmine’s Interest +7

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’Huh, interest?’

I hesitated, then obeyed, sliding my hands further down her spine. The oil glided smooth under my palms.

"Good. Just like that. Lower."

I went lower again, my pulse quickening. Now I was close to the dip of her waist, her hips twitching slightly under my touch.

"Mm. Don’t stop... lower."

I paused, almost choking on air. My hands hovered, just above the swell of her ass. I looked down at her, frozen, not sure if this was a test or a trap.

She turned her head, resting her cheek against the cushion. Her eyes slid to me, heavy-lidded, amused, daring. "What’s wrong?"

"I—uh... I’m just... not sure," I admitted, my voice cracking. "If I should—"

"Keep massaging," she interrupted, firm but playful.

"Are you sure?" I asked, needing to hear it again, needing the ground to feel solid beneath me.

Her smile crooked. "Yeah, Evan. Go for it."

I nodded, more to myself than to her, forcing the breath out of my lungs. "Alright..." I whispered.

I pushed my thumbs lower, into the small of her back, right above her ass. Her body arched into the touch with a soft moan, like she’d been waiting for me to get there all along.

"God, that’s good," she breathed. "Don’t hold back."

I worked in slow, steady movements, kneading her muscles, the oil making each stroke glide smooth and hot. My cock strained painfully against my jeans, every noise she made feeding the fire.

Between sighs, she smirked into the cushion. "Careful, Evan. If you keep this up, I might start thinking you actually enjoy touching me."

I flushed. "I—uh—I’m just... trying to help."

"Mhm." She peeked at me again, her eyes glinting. "Your hands say otherwise. You’re way too into this for it to just be charity work."

I laughed nervously, pushing harder at the muscles near her hips. "Maybe I’m just... good at following instructions."

She moaned, deeper this time, hips shifting slightly under me. "Then keep following. Lower... slower. Just like that."

Her words dripped heat into me, each one sinking in deeper than the oil on her back. My hands obeyed without thought, pressing and sliding, and every time she breathed out another moan, I felt myself unraveling more.

The oil made my hands glide too easily, and before I realized it, my fingers had slipped lower—past her hips, past the towel, until the tips brushed against the folds of her pussy.

I froze. My chest locked up like I’d just stepped off a cliff.

Jasmine turned her head again, cheek pressed into the couch cushion, eyes burning into me. "Mmm... I need to relax more," she purred, voice husky. "Go lower."

My lips parted, but before I could move, she smirked and added, "Actually... no. Go inside."

"What?" I stammered, pulse hammering.

"Inside." She wiggled her ass, making it bounce right in front of me. The black panties had slid to the side, her wet slit glistening in the dim light. "Don’t just tease me, Evan. Slide that hand in."