Chapter 33 – Washing and Bathing Are Barely Different

After pushing the Wanderer into the bathroom and ordering her to wash, she just stood there blankly without making any particular movement.

After standing still for a few minutes.

I finally realized the problem.

‘Ah. She doesn’t know how to use a shower.’

Coming from D.D., which appeared to be a typical medieval fantasy, she wouldn’t know how to use modern amenities, and since the Bell of Doom held control, she might not even know how humans clean themselves.

This means that to wash her, I would have to either specify each individual action with commands or just wash her with my own hands.

I stared at the Wanderer.

‘I have a lot to do right now…’

I needed to look up medieval weapon technique videos that occasionally appeared in my algorithm to practice the swordsmanship I had learned, shop around for good items at bargain prices, and go out to buy popcorn and cola to eat while watching Netflix at night.

“Can’t be helped. Wanderer, first take off the armor you’re wearing. I’ll wash you.”

But looking at those huge breasts, I thought it wouldn’t matter anyway.

I’ll just order delivery food today.

Following my command without delay, the Wanderer threw off her armor, returning to a natural state without a single garment.

As she removed her tight top, those enormous breasts flowed down with gravity’s pull, swinging like metronome weights before gently stopping.

My hand moved as if enchanted by those artistic curves, beyond my command.

Squish.

The softness felt on my palm, which supported her breast like a plate, was slightly cool but gradually warming to body temperature. It not only didn’t fit in my hand but was overflowing and even difficult to hold.

“Wow. Wow.”

Long sentences couldn’t be formed in my mouth, only foolish sounds came out.

I wondered how she could swing a sword so well with these. Don’t women with large breasts usually have trouble even running?

Squish squish.

Those luscious breasts repeatedly changed shape and returned to normal according to my hand’s movements, following my will.

It couldn’t be anything other than an addictive and violent sight.

Why can’t men resist these round, soft masses of fat that are merely fat deposits? It’s one of the great mysteries that has persisted since the birth of humanity.

“Ah, this isn’t why I came in here. Right.”

I suddenly remembered that I came in to wash her. What a mental attack of considerable level.

I turned on the warm water and sprayed it on the Wanderer’s legs, slowly moving upward.

SHHHHH—

The warm water flowing down the Wanderer’s skin along with the sound of water. The temperature was appropriate for me, but I couldn’t tell if it was good for her.

Basically, since the original owner’s mind had disappeared and most bodily functions had been consumed by the parasitic organism, she showed little reaction unless the stimulus was quite strong.

‘But can’t she speak? Come to think of it, what does she eat?’

I looked at the Wanderer taking a shower with her back turned and fell into such idle thoughts.

I didn’t know if something was blocking her vocal cords, but anyway, her body seemed full of parasitic organisms, so it would be difficult for her to speak, and I had no memory of feeding the onaholes during the past two weeks.

From the start, the Slime could just exist without eating, and Severa neither needed nor could eat, so I didn’t know if the Wanderer, who had been made into an onahole not long ago, needed food.

‘She doesn’t attack unless approached, so I don’t think she hunted to eat.’

She must have been named “the Wanderer” because she had been in those sewers for quite a long time, but during that time, it didn’t seem likely that she had moved autonomously to find food.

I squeezed body wash onto a bath towel and rubbed it on the Wanderer to create lather.

I roughly threw the shower head to the Slime, who swallowed it and bubbled, growing larger until it made a SPLOOSH sound and spat out a stream of water.

Though it was becoming more transparent, there didn’t seem to be any particular problem, so I left it alone.

The soap-laden towel slid along the Wanderer’s skin, coating it with fluffy bubbles.

The flowing foam covered the smooth curve of her spine, the pelvis descending along her waist, and her plump buttocks.

Watching the white foam enter between her butt cheeks, I slowly felt my lower body becoming heavy.

‘Let’s be patient for a bit.’

It’s not like she’s going anywhere, so I decided to take my time.

Next was the front. About 170cm, perhaps?

While the Wanderer’s backside was as attractive as could captivate any man, her front, with protruding nipples and female genitalia hidden between her thighs, strongly stimulated lust when exposed.

I first put the towel between her breasts. The comforting weight pressing on my hand caught between those heavy breasts, possibly larger than my head, was too much to hold, let alone contain.

Slowly moving down her sternum, I supported a breast with one hand and gently wiped the underboob where sweat might collect.

To comfortably apply force while lifting the heavy breast, I pressed close, and half my field of vision was filled with the glistening, foam-covered breast.

“What the hell did you eat to get this big? You didn’t agree to host a parasite because it promised to make your breasts bigger, did you?”

I knew there would be no answer, but I couldn’t help asking.

I rubbed the towel to create whipped cream-like foam and placed it on her nipple.

Satisfied with the milk cake-like appearance that one might only see in drawings on the internet, I nodded and lowered my hand.

It slid along the side of her abdominal muscles, down her lower abdomen.

As if to support her pelvis, I swept the towel around her thick thighs, then moved to her shins, the tops of her feet, and her soles.

Due to the increasingly lower position, I was on my knees, and only after thoroughly washing the Wanderer’s entire body could I wipe the sweat flowing from my forehead.

“Phew-! It’s ove…”

Filling my field of vision was the female genitalia, gradually revealing itself as the foam, which had been covering it, flowed down her skin due to its weight.

Because I was kneeling, it appeared as if I had buried my face between the Wanderer’s thighs.

The clitoris, covered by its hood, peeked out from the gradually disappearing foam.

“I was trying to hold back, but I can’t. Kneel.”

“…”

***

Looking down at the Wanderer, who was obediently waiting on her knees in front of me according to my command, I lowered my pants.

My cock, which had become fully erect while performing the stimulating caress under the name of bathing, caught once on the waistband of my pants before springing up like a spring.

Thus exposed to the world, my angry, throbbing cock twitched at the Wanderer’s mouth.

SLITHER—

Whether she understood what this meant or not, the end of a bright red tentacle slowly emerged, parting the Wanderer’s lips, and tapped the heated glans.

The tentacle protruding from her mouth was incredibly strange, but the elasticity of the tentacle that subtly brushed against me was stickily adhesive.

“Oral isn’t bad either… but I want to enjoy those awesome breasts.”

“…”

As if understanding, the tentacle disappeared back between her lips.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub to match the height and waited for the Wanderer’s approaching breasts.

With a sensation like a puppy climbing onto my thighs, the slippery cleavage, covered in foam, gently enveloped my cock.

The throbbing heartbeat and hot body temperature felt through my enveloped cock.

“Oh…”

Though the stimulation couldn’t compare to the undulating pussy or the wriggling tentacle-filled mouth, the sight of my glans protruding from between those massive breasts was enough to provide satisfaction.

I grabbed the Wanderer’s breasts and kneaded them like dough, rubbing.

Up. Down. Up again. Down again.

The slippery breasts pressed and stroked my shaft with force, creating a feeling of fullness.

The power created by the inherent mass, despite not moving so forcefully.

SPLISH- SPLISH- SPLISH-

A wet sound.

Each time the breasts enveloping my cock rose, the glans would be covered in flesh, disappearing, only to reappear moments later.

Despite her breasts being used at will, the Wanderer just stayed kneeling in place, whether she knew about it or not.

Even if I were to use this ripe female body more roughly, there would be no complaints or grievances.

I stood up, supporting her breasts with my hands.

In a seated position, the glans could at least peek out from under the breasts pressing down from above, but standing, the posture became one of pushing into the cleavage, completely swallowing my cock between those breasts until it was no longer visible.

“Now, slowly, as if massaging. Yes, like that.”

I gave the Wanderer the command to rub as if massaging her own breasts, and I slowly moved my hips.

My cock began to move back and forth between the writhing flesh that was like pudding.

The slippery foam minimized the inevitable friction that occurs when flesh meets flesh.

It looked like I was violating her breasts. Thanks to this, I was in an awkward posture, but by directly moving my hips to increase the speed, I could feel the sensation of ejaculation slowly rising.

With each deep burial, the sensation of a hard protrusion touching my thighs indicated that the Wanderer’s body was also excited, even if there was no reaction.

My breathing became increasingly rough.

The speed of movement gradually quickened.

The scent of mutual seduction was strongly felt, making the water spray and soap lather seem meaningless.

“…”

And then came the climax of the feeling of ejaculation.

My spine pulled, and strength fully entered my thighs.

My genitals repeatedly contracted and relaxed, scattering my seeds through the urethra as if the breasts had a womb that could conceive.

My body trembled for a long time, and the ejaculation time was equally long.

SQUIRT—

Only after that lengthy ejaculation ended did my still proudly erect cock, now sticky and stained with white fluid, escape from between her breasts.

The Wanderer slowly parted her breasts.

The space between them, where my body had been buried, was a mess, soiled with white semen.

“Breasts are the best..!”

The bath afterward was enjoyable.

Poking the firmly erect nipples with my fingers, or taking her breasts in my mouth like a baby sucking milk—these activities were enough to heal my deteriorated mental state.

“It’s fortunate that there’s something worthwhile after all that hardship. I wonder if Severa has gone back to her place by now?”

“…”

I enjoyed the sage time, touching the breasts floating on the surface of the unexpectedly filled bathtub of warm water.

BUBBLE BUBBLE BUBBLE—

“That one’s still doing that. Having fun?”

BUBBLE!

The Slime seemed to be playing, sucking in the shower water and then spitting it out in a stream.

And then I realized something strange.

“Wait… hasn’t it been 15 minutes? Why haven’t they returned?”

I didn’t ejaculate inside, though.