Nash woke up like he had been hit by a train.

His eyelids were heavy as lead curtains in a storm-ravaged theater, his mind a foggy, his memories swirling like drunken. His head was painful, but not only the had. Another head, lower, had a dull, throbbing ache waking him up with a "rest in peace".

His groin, his dick swollen and tender, balls aching like they'd been pummeled in a back-alley brawl. He groaned softly.

"Ugh... what the hell..." his voice raspy, throat dry as sandpaper.

Where was he? The room spun in slow, nauseous circles, the dim light filtering through curtains casting shadows that danced mockingly. The bed beneath him felt familiar yet alien, sheets tangled and damp, sticking to his skin like a second, clammy layer.

When did he even go to bed?

He shifted slightly, and that's when he felt it, the warm, tight embrace around his cock, still buried deep inside something soft, pulsing, alive.

Confused, his heart pounding unevenly as he tried to piece it together.

He was still inside... someone. Zayela, sleeping, her back pressed to his chest, her breath steady and deep. His arm was draped over her waist, hand resting on her stomach, feeling the soft rise and fall.

Nash blinked hard, willing the haze to clear; his body was heavy with every movement.

Drunk? No, he wasn't drunk, but lost.

What happened last night?

He had some memories, bodies writhing, moans echoing, sweat and cum mingling in a frenzy. Zayela. His cousin. The taboo storm they'd unleashed. He remembered the madness, the way he'd lost control, pounding her like a beast unchained, cumming floods on her skin, then... inside her. The quest. The creampie that sealed it all, then the creampies that messed him up.

His breath caught. He was still inside Zayela, his cock soft but nestled in her warmth, cum from the night before leaking in a continuous, lazy spill as he stirred, the sticky fluid trickling down her thighs onto the sheets.

Nash froze in horror and awe as the post-nut clarity hit him in his chest.

Shit... we did that... all night... I... I lost it completely...

He rose slowly, every inch a torture, his swollen dick slipping out with a wet pop, more cum spilling in a thick, pearly stream, foaming slightly at her entrance from the sheer volume, spreading on the rug below in a lewd puddle.

Then, the pain. His penis throbbed angrily, red and inflamed, balls heavy and sore, as if he'd drained every last drop in a marathon of excess.

Nia in the shower room, then the foursome, then Zayela all night. His body wasn't an infinite battery, even with his regeneration; it was screaming for mercy.

He collapsed back on the bed, a feverish sweat breaking out, his head pounding like a drum.

"Fuck... can't move..." he muttered, the room tilting as he tried to sit up.

The team meeting, he was supposed to be there, but his body betrayed him. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, memories flooding back in vivid, shameful detail, the way he'd obsessed over her boobs, squeezing them like treasures, her ass jiggling under his slaps, the kisses that tasted of forbidden wine.

How did I lose control like that? I was supposed to handle it softly...

Hours later, Nash had called Victoria to tell her he wouldn't make it today, no practice, no meeting, he was wrecked. By then, he was slumped on the sofa, ice pressed to his groin, half‑dead.

Zayela hovered over him, eyes narrowing, a blissful glow on her face quickly replaced by that familiar big‑sister scold. She sat beside him.

"Great, you look like a corpse. Fever, swollen, useless, all the pain in the world for you. I told you to slow down, but no, you went full beast mode. This is what happens when you don't listen to your partner during sex."

Her tone was stern, though beneath, she was delighted.

He wanted me that bad, lost control for me... It's frightening, but god, it felt good.

She wrapped the ice pack again in a towel and laid it gently over his crotch. Nash hissed, laughing weakly at the ridiculousness of the scene, him laid out with ice, her fussing like a nurse.

"Sorry... got carried away..." he muttered.

She shook her head, sitting straighter.

"You think? We crossed every line, Nash. But I'm glad you wanted me that much. Next time, learn to pace yourself, or you'll kill yourself before I kill you."

She brushed his forehead with a quick kiss before rising, her ass swaying stiffly as she padded to the kitchen, legs sore from the night.

In the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, the cool surface a stark contrast to the warmth still simmering inside her. She was slightly ashamed.

What did we do? My cousin... if our parents were there... how can I look them in the eye?

She shook her head, trying to persuade herself,

But it's not that bad... cousins marry in some cultures... technically, it's not forbidden love... just... passionate family ties...

Her hand drifted to her womb, rubbing gently, feeling the faint fullness, the cum still deep inside, a warm reminder. She sighed.

"So much... he came so much inside me..." She murmured to herself, a small smile creeping, "That was one hell of a first time..."

Then her eyes widened, shaking her head vigorously.

"No! It's Nash! Can't let it happen again... not so carelessly." She resolved, "Need the morning-after pill... and condoms... lots of condoms... if there's a next time... no, there won't be... but just in case..."

Meanwhile, Nash went back to bed, the ice numbing the pain enough to think.

He pulled up his feeds on his phone, scrolling through the buzz from yesterday's match; his stellar performance already overshadowed by newer highlights, other players stealing the spotlight with flashier plays.

"Damn... one game and it's old news... got a lot to do..."

He remembered the quest rewards, opening the system interface, the 3 crystals shimmered.

He absorbed them one by one: the first crystal granted him "Sky Step," a passive leap that let him jump higher and move freer on court; the second one "Growth Multiplier," doubling his gains from training, and the last one unlocked "Silver Tongue," a gift to always find the right word in talk.

Then the choice box, a mysterious box pulsing with light.

[Choice Box Unlocked]

Options Available:

- Hint about Victoria

- Hint about Nash

- Hint about Saya

Warning: Selecting an option will trigger a rare quest tied to the chosen individual. Proceed with caution.

"A hint? In this context? What does that mean?"

Nash pondered, heart racing. Victoria, his manager.

She was power in heels, sharp as a blade, respected by everyone. A hint about her could be huge, leverage, insight, maybe even a path to her bed or her secrets.

But the risk? It might just lead to sex, something he could reach anyway with his passives. She'd told him he could use any girl for sex, and he never confirmed if she was included.

Did he really want to burn the choice for that? He weighed it, the pros glittering, the cons even more.

Then there was the hint about Saya, the girl who humiliated him, ridiculed him in front of his previous team, and worked him out of his spot.

"Why her? If I have to meet her, and I will, it will be for revenge, and only on the court."

No heart for reconciliation, not even the will to take the risk of having to fuck her due to a quest. It was the most intriguing, but the easiest to pass.

Then, the strangest one of all, about himself.

"A hint about me? How does that work? Self-discovery? Secrets I don't know? This system's weird... Now I'm sure it's not just sex... wait... maybe... Victoria for advantage, Saya for closure, me for... truth?"

He hesitated; the decision wasn't easy, and the quest would definitely bring a change in his complicated life.

A day ago, he might have chosen Victoria, thinking with another brain, located lower than the normal one, an insurance to bed and get the lead over her would completely change his world.

But this Nash had so many cultural activities that he started thinking about penguins when a little bouncy butt walked in front of him.

He wouldn't fall for that now.

He sat there a long time, weighing them all: Victoria for power, Saya for closure, himself for truth.

Finally, Nash exhaled slowly, shoulders sinking into the sofa. His lips curved into a tired grin.

"The safest choice is me. The one I can't predict, the one I can't control. If there's something I don't know, better I face it now."

His finger hovered in the interface. His heart thumped once, hard. Then he tapped.

[Option Selected: Hint about Nash]

The system chimed, colder than usual, then a ping made Nash flinch.

[Special Rare Item Acquired]

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