While Jasmine hummed softly over the stove, Arin pulled up the system in silence. Every quest box glowed a beautiful, glowing COMPLETED.
[ Q2. Make deliberate physical contact with a MILF's ass or breasts (skin not required, intent is) COMPLETELD ]
[ +10 Skill Points | +500 EXP ]
[ LEVELED UP ]
[ Bonus Reward: 2000EXP ]
[ Q3. Reach Level 3 before midnight tonight COMPLETED ] [ +500 EXP ]
[ Total Skill Points : 50 ]
The system never shows notifications during sex. Now that he was done, Arin quickly checked his [ STATS ].
————
NAME: Arin Aurante
DESIRE: MILF
RANK: F [20/100]
LEVEL: 3 [2500/4000 EXP]
SKILL POINTS: 50
→ Free Rare Skill Card guaranteed at Level 10
————
He almost opened the crafting menu to burn some points, then stopped.
To create a new card he'd have to sacrifice one of his current active skills.
'Fuck… I need to craft eight more cards to hit E-rank, but I don't have a single trash skill to throw away'.
He sighed and closed the window.
The heavenly smell of meat curry pulled him back to reality. Jasmine padded over with a steaming tray: two deep bowls of rich curry loaded with her homemade meatballs, fragrant rice, and a fresh cucumber salad on the side. She was still wearing the same frilly apron—now properly tied over her clothes, but the memory of it being the only thing on her body minutes ago made Arin's lips twitch.
"Aunt… that smells incredible," he said, meaning every word.
They sat across from each other, eating and chatting like a normal nephew and aunt—except for the faint handprint still blooming on her ass under the fabric.
When the bowls were empty and his stomach happily full, Arin bid her goodnight and slipped back to his own room.
He flopped onto the bed, pulled the blanket up to his chin, replaying the day's conquests with a lazy grin… until his phone buzzed.
(XGroup Chat – Local Mandem)
Admin: "Prof Blue down with high fever. No first period tomorrow"
Everyone spammed thumbs-up and laughing emojis.
Arin's grin widened. Sleep-in privileges acquired.
Then the system flickered again.
[New Daily Die Spin Available]
He opened the [Craft Passive Skill] window. The familiar 3D die spun lazily inside its box.
'What's the point of rolling a new skill card when there are no slots available? What if it turns out to be a good one?'. he thought, staring at the die.
He knew the rules: pull a new card and he'd have to overwrite or delete one of his current skills. Still, curiosity sank its claws in.
'It's probably just another F-rank anyway. What's the worst that could happen?'.
He tapped.
The die started slow, then spun faster and faster, collapsing into a glowing sphere before finally revealing a single, mocking letter "F".
[Suspicious True Compliment (F-Rank)]:
Whenever you give a genuine compliment to a MILF who already feels at least slightly positive toward you, she experiences 3 seconds of sudden arousal.
Each additional sincere compliment within 60 seconds adds +1 second to the timer (no upper limit).
A single negative or sarcastic remark instantly resets the effect to zero.
Arin stared at the description, eyes widening.
"…Holy fuck. That's leagues better than Lust Gaze."
All he had to do was keep complimenting her—her eyes, her cooking, her body, her voice—until the timer stacked so high she'd be dripping and begging without him ever laying a finger.
Arin replaced the new card to his older card.
Do you want to replace [ LUST GAZE ] to [ SUSPICIOUS TRUE COMPLIMENT ]
[ YES/NO ]
He tapped on yes.
The new card's edge glowed red as it replaced Lust Gaze. He closed the window. Any card that was not used would enter auto-delete mode.
He viewed his [ ACTIVE SLOTS ]
1st slot: Suspicious True Compliment.
2nd slot: Vision.
A slow, predatory smirk curled across his lips. "Hehe… tomorrow just got a lot more interesting."
Arin slept deeper than he had in years, no nightmares, no gnawing hunger, just pure, blissful darkness.
Having dinner at Jasmine's tonight had already saved him a few bucks, and if this became a regular thing… well, his wallet was going to love her almost as much as the rest of him did.
Morning: 9:02AM.
He woke up buzzing with energy. Quick face wash, toothbrush assault, a satisfying morning dump, two slices of toast slathered with cheap jam, and he was out the door.
By 9:38 he strolled onto campus. The early birds were already clustered in their usual groups, laughing and gossiping. Arin slid into the circle like he belonged, trading jokes and roasting each other until the bell.
Second period: Business Vocabulary with a slim, no-nonsense female teacher. Decent lecturer, zero curves, zero volume. Arin respected her brain and literally nothing else.
Third and fourth periods dragged on like wet cement: Marketing Management and Microeconomics. Brain-melting boredom.
Canteen break.
He was lounging with the boys, feet up on the bench, when one of them dropped the bomb.
"Dude, I saw Mrs. Olivia at the bus stop on my way here."
Arin's heart slammed against his ribs.
His P.E. teacher. The walking wet dream in tight track pants.
A filthy smirk crawled across his face; his cock gave an eager twitch just from hearing her name.
While the others kept talking, Arin was already miles ahead: replaying the way her ass filled those yoga pants, imagining her sweat-slick skin under the lights, the bounce of her tits when she demonstrated stretches…
The bell snapped him out of it.
Next period: Physical Education.
Mrs. Olivia was on the schedule.
Arin's grin turned downright demonic as he flicked his eyes over his active skill list, fingers ghosting across the invisible interface only he could see.
Then the door slid open.
Mrs. Olivia stepped in, and the entire class went still.
Tight green leggings hugging every lethal curve, sports bra straining against those legendary tits, ponytail swinging like a metronome of pure temptation.
Every guy in the room stared. Arin stared harder, gaze locked unapologetically on the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.
"Students, line up and head to the yoga room. Quietly," she ordered, voice soft but carrying that natural authority that made backs straighten on instinct.
They shuffled out like obedient soldiers. Arin deliberately took the rear.
She stood by the door, arms crossed under her breasts (accidentally pushing them up even higher), watching everyone file past.
When Arin reached her, he slowed just enough, looked straight into her eyes, and let his new skill do the talking.
"Ma'am… you look absolutely gorgeous today," he said, voice low and warm, smile innocent as sin.
A faint, electric shiver coursed through her body for three full seconds the moment the words left his lips.
Arin never broke stride, but he didn't need to see her face—he felt the skill trigger.