Day One of Holding Back
“Tastes good~”
Irene rolled my cum around on her tongue, smacking her lips and letting out little hums of pleasure as she savored it. Whether it truly tasted delicious or she simply convinced herself it did, her face was lost in bliss.
And we were right next to the Sanctuary.
“You really wanted to do it out on the street?”
After arriving at the Sanctuary we had simply gone to sleep, both of us exhausted from the long journey. But that seemed to have triggered something in Irene. She had grabbed me, dragged me into a back alley, and immediately pulled out my cock to suck on it.
“Why not? Is there a problem?”
She opened her mouth wide to show me. I waved her off.
“This is the Sanctuary. We should show some restraint.”
“But… I feel like I have to drink your cum regularly, no matter where we are…”
She rubbed her own belly, whether pointing to her stomach or her womb—or both.
“Still, out on the street…”
“Felt good though, right?”
“…”
She licked her lips and smiled, the sound of her swallowing audible. With that expression and those words, I couldn’t bring myself to deny it. I only let out a sigh.
“Yeah. It felt good.”
“Then it’s fine!”
“…”
I glanced around. Hardly anyone was nearby. I pulled Irene deeper into the alley, grabbed both her arms, and brought my face close to hers. She looked flustered, cheeks flushing.
“Irene.”
“H-huh?”
“I like everything we do together. I like you sucking my cock. I like all of it.”
Her eyes darted away in embarrassment.
“But…”
“Hnn?!”
My hand slid down to her belly, tracing its curves until it slipped between her thighs and found the spot my instincts always craved.
“If you keep doing that… it’s hard for me.”
I stroked the surface gently, then teased the slightly swollen nub with quick little touches.
“If you keep stimulating me like this, I’ll only be able to think about sex all day.”
I lifted her skirt and touched the bare skin beneath. She was already wet; the small, hardened peak was obvious. I kept rubbing, sometimes sliding a finger inside.
“Hnnngh…”
Irene covered her mouth, trying to stay quiet while I tormented her on purpose. I wanted her to understand the danger of constant teasing by putting her in the same position.
Her stifled breathing told me she knew exactly how bad it would be if we were caught.
“You won’t be able to live normally…”
—Squish, squish, squish
—Squelch, squelch
The wet sounds of my fingers moving in and out mixed with the lewd noises of her arousal. No one was around to hear, so I kept going.
“Haaah… right there…”
“Quiet. I’m not doing this for your pleasure.”
I was scolding her—making her experience the same frustration she caused me.
“Cover your mouth. Don’t moan. Don’t make any sound. Especially not from your pussy.”
“That’s impossible… mmph!”
I clamped my other hand over her mouth. She couldn’t make noise anymore. Only faint, desperate whimpers escaped as her eyes rolled back in a shallow climax.
—Squishsquishsquishsquishsquishsquish
When I sped up, her legs gave out. She squeezed my arm between her thighs and tried to push my hand deeper.
“Mmmph!!!”
She suddenly let out a muffled cry.
—Squirt…
A gush of liquid sprayed out as she came hard, soaking my hand.
That was enough. I pulled my fingers out. Her pussy was flushed dark red and dripping, her thighs trembling.
“So don’t do it outside. Got it?”
“Y-yeah…”
“How do you feel now?”
“I want to have sex…”
She showed me her soaked pussy, pushing her fingers inside and arching her back until her head tilted. Then she pulled them out and smiled sheepishly.
“But we’re outside… it’d be dangerous if we got caught…”
“And?”
“Even so, I still want it… so it’s hard to control myself…”
“Exactly. That’s why it’s difficult. Understand?”
“Yeah…”
I offered her my hand. She took it with shaking fingers and stood up, still unsteady on her legs for several minutes.
We returned to the main street and decided to enjoy the Sanctuary’s culture.
“Wow, Maurice! This is delicious!”
After being teased, her mood had completely flipped. She bounced around happily, eyes sparkling as she ate the Sanctuary’s famous lamb skewers.
“Isn’t that the Saintess?”
Someone had recognized her. Irene turned around in surprise to find several people watching—some angry, some pitying.
“They said she committed some sin and isn’t the Saintess anymore…”
Someone whispered, though loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Ah… well… haha…”
Irene scratched her cheek awkwardly, unable to confirm or deny.
“Whatever happened, have you come on a pilgrimage to atone?”
The news of the Pope’s murder hadn’t spread widely yet—perhaps because of its gravity, or because the Order had kept it internal.
“Yes…”
Irene lowered her head. Her reputation had already fallen as far as it could go. How humiliating it must feel.
“…I hope you can stay without incident, Saintess. Even if you’ve stepped down, you’re still our Saintess.”
“That’s right. You were incredible when you healed the sick with your divine power.”
“I’d never seen blue divine power before.”
Some residents still supported her, smiling and welcoming her warmly. Irene’s spirits lifted again.
“Yes…!”
She smiled.
*
“Honestly, I was shocked when the locals recognized me so suddenly.”
“Me too.”
I had been worried they might curse or harass her.
“But they still call me the Saintess… I’m grateful.”
Irene smiled as we hiked.
“Wearing that white dress and veil, of course people would think you’re the Saintess.”
It was something I’d thought for a while. Even if she wasn’t the Saintess anymore, dressing so conspicuously would naturally make people assume she was.
Irene looked down at her outfit.
“You think so?”
“Definitely.”
“Hmm… maybe I should change my style later. Oh, look over there, Maurice!”
Our conversation was cut short as we finally reached the summit.
“That’s where the saint sacrificed herself!”
It was the place called the Sacred Mountain.
“Wow… it’s beautiful… No wonder they call it the Sacred Mountain…”
From the top, the entire town spread out below us, and the sky with its fluffy clouds felt close enough to touch. It truly lived up to its name.
“Since we’re here, we should do the pilgrimage too, right?”
We had come this far. At the pilgrimage site stood an altar marking where the saint had martyred herself. We prayed quietly.
Neither of us was so far gone that we would do that sort of thing at a holy site.
“Please, let this curse be lifted.”
That was my prayer.
“…Let us live happily for these hundred days.”
Irene’s prayer sounded as if our fate was already sealed.
*
As we descended the Sacred Mountain, we talked.
“You prayed for the curse to be lifted, but it sounded like you’ve already accepted that we’re going to die.”
“It is a fact, isn’t it? Didn’t you think so too?”
“No, I… I still thought maybe we could break the curse someday.”
“How?”
“By recovering your memories, maybe?”
Irene thought for a moment, then smiled mischievously—her expression quickly turning sly.
“W-what? What is it?”
“To recover memories… you already know what we have to do, right?”
Ah.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Or maybe it was the perfect thing to say. A sudden thought occurred to me.
“By the way… does the number of times we have sex affect your memory recovery?”
“What are you trying to say?”
She pouted.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want to do it with me anymore.”
“That’s not it…”
“Then let’s go to the inn right now!”
She grabbed my arm, practically drooling like a bitch in heat, ready to drag me away.
“Listen to me first!”
I barely managed to stop her by grabbing her waist. She looked disappointed.
“Aww, why~”
“Well… I just had a really good idea…”
“What is it?”
“It’s…”
After hearing my explanation, Irene looked flustered. She glanced around, thinking hard, then nodded.
“Ah… okay. I’ll try…”
She agreed.
*
That night.
We sat side by side at the inn, simply looking at each other without taking off any clothes.
Normally we would already be tangled together, tongues intertwined, clothes discarded, my cock buried deep inside her. But tonight was different. And it would stay different for the next several days.
We had made a promise. We were going to test a hypothesis.
“Maurice, your idea isn’t completely baseless…”
“But?”
“Can we really spend a whole week teasing each other and only have sex on the last day…?”
My theory was simple: did the number of times we had sex matter for memory recovery, or did the quality matter more?
I believed that sex after prolonged abstinence would feel far more intense, and that stronger pleasure might better trigger her memories.
So we decided to hold back.
We faced each other, occasionally letting our eyes roam over faces, lips, necks, breasts, armpits, bellies, thighs, legs, and feet. Irene did the same to me.
Then she spoke.
“What do you want to do right now, Irene?”
“…”
She hesitated, breathing heavily with arousal.
“I want to suck your cock… lick it from the shaft all the way to the tip… play with your balls until you cum so I can drink it…”
Her hand twitched toward her pussy but stopped. Masturbation was forbidden too.
“I want to suck on your nipples. Suck one while pinching and flicking the other until you cum from just that. Then I’d finger you until you beg me to stop.”
Irene swallowed hard.
“…And then?”
“Then I’d put my cock inside you…”
“Inside me?”
“And fuck you senseless until morning.”
“…I want you to cum inside me too.”
“I want to cover your face.”
“I want to do it while spanking your ass.”
“I want to cum on your neck.”
“I want to tease you with just the tip.”
“I want to make you masturbate while I only shake my cock in front of you.”
“I want to have sex.”
“I want to have sex.”
We.
D-98
Until the day Irene and Maurice die.