Holding Back: Day 2
We sat in silence on a bench by the roadside. We’d stepped outside that morning both to figure out our next move and because we still had the rest of the sanctuary pilgrimage to complete here.
“About yesterday… Maurice.”
“…Yeah.”
Irene finally brought up what had happened the day before. Her face was flushed crimson, and she could barely get the words out, refusing to meet my eyes.
“All those things you said… were they true?”
“…Yeah.”
We hadn’t had sex yesterday.
We had simply stared at each other, describing every position and act we wanted to try, trading one filthy suggestion after another. After that, we’d fallen asleep back-to-back.
“Like how you said you’d just dangle it in front of me and torment me…”
“…”
“And that you wanted to cum all over my throat…”
“…Yeah.”
“And that you wanted to make me cum from just your fingers?”
“Yeah.”
Honestly, I’d been so painfully hard that I barely slept. I couldn’t even remember how I’d managed to close my eyes. It felt almost miraculous that I hadn’t simply rolled over and pinned Irene beneath me.
“…Pervert.”
“You’re no different.”
“…”
“You said you wanted to play with my balls and make me swallow every drop.”
“…Hngh.”
“And that you wanted to be filled until it overflowed.”
“…Mmm.”
“And that you wanted me to spank you…”
“Hngh.”
Irene’s reactions were growing more and more unusual. Every time I repeated one of yesterday’s filthy promises, her body would twitch, her face burning even redder as her eyes gradually lifted to meet mine.
So I looked at her too. The expression on her face said she would lose her mind if we didn’t do something right now.
But a promise was a promise. Truthfully, I wanted to drag her straight back to the inn and bury myself inside her. Yet I was deliberately holding back. I was doing everything I could to minimize physical contact and keep us from spiraling into arousal.
Staring at each other in that state only made resisting harder.
“What?”
I forced my gaze down to the ground. Oh, look—an ant was marching past. It had found a fallen piece of bread and was carrying it off with its little troop. The worker ants were plump today too, working hard as always, plump plump.
“Maurice, I…”
“Yeah.”
When I glanced sideways, Irene had slipped a hand between her thighs. Her legs kept fidgeting restlessly as if she had no idea what to do with herself.
She wasn’t touching herself. Her fingers weren’t reaching that far, and there was no sound.
“I’m wet…”
But the sound of liquid was unmistakable. I could see the fabric of her dress darkening as it soaked through. Had she really come just from imagining it? Had she actually squirted?
God damn it, what the hell was she doing—getting me this worked up and then falling apart like this…
I was losing my mind. Still, I couldn’t just ignore someone whose knees had given out. I scanned the area to make sure no one was watching. Luckily the street was empty and quiet.
“What do I do, Maurice? Just talking to you made me come… This doesn’t break our promise, does it?”
“…It’s not like you could control it. Let’s just let it go.”
“R-really…?”
Irene looked strangely disappointed. Still, that wasn’t what mattered right now. I took both her hands and pulled her to her feet.
“Hngh…!”
The moment I touched her she grew even more sensitive. The dress grew so wet it looked almost gray. Was this even safe? It was like her entire body had transformed into one giant erogenous zone.
“M-Maurice… your cock’s so hard…”
It must have risen without me noticing. Irene’s eyes had gone hazy as she reached toward my crotch.
“No. We keep our promise.”
I swatted her hand away. She looked disappointed and tried to lean her face closer instead.
“Not with your mouth either.”
I barely managed to pull back before her breath could brush against me, stopping the stimulation just in time. Honestly, if she kept pushing like this I wasn’t sure I could hold out. But I somehow endured. I let out a heavy sigh and helped her stand properly.
“Let’s go to the clothing shop first. We need to get you a new dress.”
“O-okay… Can you walk in front and block the view? It’s embarrassing…”
“Of course. Stick close behind me.”
I kept Irene behind me as we made our way to the clothing shop.
*
“How does it look?”
Irene stepped out of the shop. But it wasn’t just the clothes that had changed. She wore a form-fitting dress that clung to every curve, and her hair had been tied low, braided, and draped over one shoulder.
She looked exactly like a married woman.
“Who did your hair?”
“The shop owner said this style would suit me better and fixed it for me!”
The Irene who had looked ready to explode with lust earlier had vanished. Now she stood before me full of energy, proudly showing off her new hairstyle and outfit.
“You didn’t pay extra, did you?”
“No. She just said that traveling with my husband would look better like this, so she did it for free.”
The word “husband” made me choke. It didn’t feel bad, exactly, but it left me with a strange, indescribable feeling.
What was this emotion?
Looking at it another way, it seemed the shop owner had deliberately styled her to appear married so other men wouldn’t bother or flirt with her.
Once I thought of it that way, I felt grateful and almost wanted to pay extra anyway.
Irene smiled brightly, leaning forward as she looked at me. She clearly wanted my honest opinion.
“So? What do you think of my new style? I don’t look like a Saintess anymore, right? Just like any ordinary woman?”
“Yeah… You don’t seem like you’d draw much attention now.”
“More?”
“More what?”
Her eyes were begging for something else. Expectant, almost greedy. Ah, I hadn’t given her enough yet. I needed to say more.
“It suits you.”
“Use more flowery compliments!”
“Your figure is perfectly accentuated, beautifully expressing your natural loveliness, while the married-woman style that clearly says you already belong to someone suits you wonderfully, my lady!”
I simply spoke what I felt.
Irene shyly covered her face with her arms and looked down.
“I-is it really that good?”
“Yeah. That’s what I think.”
“Thank you for the detailed praise… I really like it…”
With the clothing shop business finished, we continued our sanctuary pilgrimage. Yesterday we had visited the altar on the sacred mountain; today it was the cathedral in the sanctuary town. There we offered sincere prayers, hoping the journey to our place of exile would go smoothly.
But Irene added one more prayer.
“…That we may be happy every single day we have left.”
She prayed for our happiness.
“…That we may be happy.”
I echoed her prayer.
Because I wanted it too.
*
Before we knew it night had fallen, and it was the second day of our agreement. Today’s stage was the second level of gradually arousing each other.
“…”
“…”
We were showing each other our naked bodies. Unlike yesterday, we weren’t allowed to describe positions or acts. Normal conversation, however, was permitted.
“I-I’m so embarrassed…”
Irene stood in the moonlit room, desperately trying to cover her bare body with her hands. The way she hid herself somehow only heightened the eroticism, making my cock throb even harder.
“Why… why is it getting so big?”
Irene stared at my erection in shock. I said nothing and simply drank in the sight of her naked body.
“Who knows? Maybe it’s angry that you won’t show me everything.”
“That can’t be…! It’s because my body is turning you on, isn’t it!”
She was exactly right.
Irene’s figure was perfect. It felt a little strange to judge my childhood friend this way, but among every woman I had ever seen in passing, she had the most breathtaking body. It made me wonder if the Saintess had secretly been a goddess of sex all along.
Her breasts were enormous and shaped so lewdly they looked impossibly soft. Her waist had just the right amount of soft belly and seductive width—perfect for gripping with both hands. And her pelvis? Flawless. Built for bearing children. Just as the term “apple hips” suggested, the curve was round and full like a ripe apple. Her plump ass looked so soft that touching it would probably feel like sinking fingers into fresh bread.
Such a body stood right in front of me.
“Take your hands away. Now.”
“…Okay.”
Irene lowered her hands and revealed her completely natural, bare form. She had shown it all during sex before, yet she was still incredibly shy.
Her nipples were a mouthwatering pink. They looked like cherries—probably tasted like them too. Irene was very sensitive there; if I played with them right, I could probably make her climax from her nipples alone.
What about her pussy? Whether because she kept it neatly groomed or simply didn’t grow much hair, it was always clean and smooth. It was so lewd it was hard to describe. At first glance it was just folded flesh, but knowing there was a tight hole inside, soft vaginal walls ready to squeeze and pleasure me, made it impossible to think of as anything but pure obscenity.
“Maurice, your cock… it’s swollen so much.”
Irene breathed heavily as she stared at my erection. Her hands fidgeted restlessly, clearly dying to touch it. I felt the same—my own hands kept moving—but I clenched my fists tightly and endured.
“Your nipples are really hard too, you know?”
“That’s because of you, Maurice…”
“…”
“Do men’s nipples react if you lick or touch them?”
“We can find out later.”
“Maurice… As a Holy Knight you have all these muscles and such broad shoulders… Looking at you properly now, you really do have the kind of body women would love.”
“Who knows. No one ever threw themselves at me, so I wouldn’t know.”
“But I’m getting this excited just looking at you?”
Irene spread her legs, showing the slick nectar dripping from her pussy. Thick, sticky white strands kept flowing down, staining the inn floor.
“Your cock is so big… and the shape would feel perfect inside my pussy…”
She reached toward her own folds, so I quickly grabbed her wrist.
“Kyaa…?”
I pulled too hard. Irene stumbled forward and our naked bodies pressed together.
My rock-hard cock pressed against her soft belly.
“O-ohhh…”
Irene’s mouth fell open in shock as she stared down at the cock trapped between us.
This was bad.
“…Irene.”
“Maurice…”
In the end, we—
Until the day of Irene and Maurice's death.