Reality slapped him in the face when he saw Layla kneeling right before him, her hands guiding his hand onto her breast while he had been lost in thought.
Horrified, he realized she was pressing his hand over her flesh, her eyes closed, her breaths becoming rougher.
Her lips curved upward in pleasure, and Axel snapped out of his delusions, screaming like a madman and looking back and forth at the breasts he was clutching.
"There. Think of it as my parting gift. Wait, don't think of me as a whore, alright? I have standards. I just need some of your fingerprints over me..."
She smiled deviously, his hand still buried in her hot, fluffy flesh. It was so soft and heavenly that it was seriously messing with Axel's mind.
He wanted to run away from here, drag that fatso if he could, and just get away from this crazy woman, but right now, his brain was scrambled like eggs in a cheap diner.
"Wh-why...?" Axel stammered as he stared into her wild, lunatic eyes.
"Huh? Why fingerprints? Oh, so the police can get evidence that you actually tried to assault me..."
Cold sweat began dripping down Axel's spine. This was a fucking nightmare, the worst anyone could imagine. One false accusation and you're done, and that was happening right here, right now.
She wasn't naive at all—she was a bitch. A certified, A-class bitch.
"Ax-Axel, please don't touch me there! Take your hands off of me...!"
Layla began slowly, all the while grabbing his hand and pressing it harder into her soft, inviting flesh.
His fingers sank in, his nails grazing her areolas. It was so soft he couldn't even get a grip, like trying to hold onto a cloud made of marshmallows. Every time he tried to catch her nipple, his hand slipped off like he was handling a greased pig.
"Get away! Get away from me, you monster! What are you even thinking?! Arggghhh! Get away, you lunatic!"
Layla smiled and increased her voice a pitch, sounding like a woman being assaulted. Axel was too lost in the breast heaven, feeling the soft, warm flesh engulfing his hand.
Prrrrr~
Then, like a divine intervention, he heard the heavenly sound produced by Kris. The fart echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his short-circuited state.
It was the second time today Kris's ass had saved him.
"Get awa-- oh?"
Layla was about to scream once more, but Axel yanked his hand out of her grasp as fast as he could. No matter how heavenly the situation felt, if the woman was batshit crazy, it wasn't worth it.
"Fuck you, bitch!"
He cursed and scrambled on the floor. The poop on the tiles made him slip like a cartoon character on a banana peel.
Layla did not appreciate his escape attempt. So she did what she intended to do in the first place: scream.
"Help! Somebody help me! He's trying to assault me!"
Her voice was so loud he was sure if it weren't for the rain, the whole neighborhood would've heard her. If someone actually did, he was truly done for.
Within seconds, Brent had climbed the staircase, but Axel had barely managed to stand up, his hands and feet muddled with poop stains that he didn't care about now. It was like trying to stand on a slick, shitty ice rink.
Brent was horrified to see Layla on the ground, her summer dress pulled down to her belly, her bare breasts all scratched and red, as well as her neck.
She was a crying mess, and there was Axel, standing just above her, looking like a guilty toddler caught in a cookie jar, except this jar was full of crazy and covered in poop.
Seeing her like that, Brent's face turned red with fury. Someone tried to force themselves on his poor Layla? Oh, fuck the police!
He rushed forward and grabbed Axel by the collar of his shirt.
"How dare you! How dare you try to force yourself on Layla!!"
Axel was too weak to even respond as Brent flung him into the air like a ragdoll. As Axel sailed through the air, he had a moment of introspection about his life choices.
He thought about what he could've been if he hadn't come here on this fateful day. After all, he was no match for someone who knew karate and whatnot. He was done. So was the fatty.
Kayla appeared on the upper floor a minute after Brent and immediately rushed towards her sister, tending to her.
Meanwhile, Axel crashed onto the ground and rolled like a human bowling ball, stopping just short of a strike. Before he could even catch his breath, Brent was on top of him, pounding his face like it was a drum solo at a rock concert.
Axel could only endure it until Brent pulled back his fist... and then, nothing.
"Axel? I-Is that you?" Brent asked incredulously as he finally saw the face of the man who'd tried to assault his girl.
"Yesh... ish me... shust giwme a minishe to eshplai--" Axel tried to speak, but his words were muffled and slurred.
Brent, however, wasn't in the mood to wait for explanations. He resumed pummeling Axel, this time with even more vigor and power.
"Did that fat motherfucker send you here to harass her, huh? Did he get his heart broken from seeing me holding his girl's hand, huh?"
Axel's eyes widened at the revelation. So what Kris saw wasn't a random misunderstanding; it was all part of some twisted plan. Did Layla know? Axel didn't know, but honestly, he didn't care.
The supposed best friend of Kris had orchestrated this whole scene, making sure Kris saw them holding hands. It was a calculated move to break the poor fatty's heart.
"You dare! You fucking dare!! To think that dumb elephant would harm her just because a goddess like Layla gave him a chance?! He was lucky enough to even be touched by her! And you try to force yourself?!"
Bam~ Pow~ Bam~
A nonstop barrage of punches rained down on Axel, who could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. A few more punches and he'd be out cold.
But just as the lights were about to go out, Axel's unexpected savior arrived in the form of a pure, unadulterated nuke bomb—a flying turd launched from the bathroom.