I one hundred percented the litrpg and all I got was this lousy harem: Catgirl Cafe (Patreon)

I drank from a flagon of wine and watched a lovely catgirl barista dance sensually on a wooden table. I couldn’t help but be attracted to the lithe feline. The moment I’d come into the catgirl coffee shop, she’d rubbed her fur against me, marking me with her scent glands, and promising to see to me once she’d gotten me my coffee. Now she bumped and grinded on my table, her skirt floating around with her flowing movements, as if following her flicking tail.

She hopped down and prowled on all fours around the coffee shop, weaving between the various tables, rubbing herself against the leg of every man. Some she further caressed, rearing up to their chairs to drive her face into the backs of their necks, then letting her tongue tickle a light pattern through their hair. I could barely wait for her to come back to me—when and if she did, I wondered if it would even matter that we had an audience, so long as I sated my lust.

I smiled toothily, asking myself why I should care what a bunch of NPCs thought? I got up and walked up behind the catgirl, starting my petting at her flanks and then moving my hands up, in a series of sweeping strokes, to the fleshiest part of her undulating hips and her full breasts. I slowly unbuttoned the thin cotton blouse she wore until I could take it away from her. She stood before the coffee drinkers, topless. Her full, soft breasts stood proudly out from her chest, pink nipples erect.

Next, I undid her apron and let it fall to the tile floor. She kept moving her body, trancelike, while I undressed her. Offering up every curve of her body to my continuous touch. My obsidian hands against the pale whiteness of her belly made for a lewd contrast, even to me.

She kept snaking her hips around, bringing the dark curls of her sex into the glinting light, showing off the smoothness of her thighs and calves. I pinched her left nipple, making her twist a little more hurriedly than she had been doing. All eyes were on her, yet she seemed completely unaware of anyone’s attention but mine, her own eyes glazed and blind.

She writhed violently and moved to press herself against my body, but I held her firmly in place. I continued to stroke her plump breasts, tending to their sensuous weight with tender care, then being more rough with the sensitive nipples, pinching and twisting them enough to make her tail flick angrily.

I loved a hand to her tail, stroking it, and it proved exquisitely sensitive. My other hand went to her leg, caressing her thigh, then digging my fingers into her slender waist. I explored her soft, fleecy fur until coming to the warm dampness of her cunt. My manhood jerked crazily, but I ignored it for now. I wanted my hands endlessly on this fine, lust-crazed wench.

“Unhand that wench!” came a powerful roar from behind me.

I turned to see a tall, proudly attired man with broadsword in hand. His bloodshot eyes burned at me. Four claw marks ran down his cheek and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything around here besides catgirls who had claws that size.

“What’s the problem, friend?” I asked. “You can’t go to a catgirl café and expect to find no one being petted.”

“You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn,” he said, fire in his eyes.

“Why take turns?” the catgirl asked, her tail swishing around languorously. “You can both have me—I don’t mind, nya.”

“And if I don’t feel like sharing?”

The clawed man brandished his sword at me. “Then be thee foodstuff of the worms!”