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Irene trembled as she looked at Ida, pressing her lips together to contain the spectacular moan that was brewing in her heart. It wasn’t very successful as the sudden invasion finally pushed her over the edge, suggesting it was her climax that was responsible for her trembling and not the shock of what had just happened. 

I had moved my empty hand back to her stomach, pressing hard to help her stay upright despite her trembling legs, doing my best not to explode at the sudden hot presence around my shaft.  

“Smile,” Ida ordered, but she was lucky that Irene was too distracted to pay attention to the deep satisfaction on her face. 

Luckily, despite the surprise intervention of her friend, Irene didn’t react badly to the surprise loss of her virginity — though her earlier actions suggested she was more than willing to take that step, just not when one of her best friends stood a couple feet away from her, taking a truly impressive number of photos. 

“I don’t care if you’re having another cramp. Smile,” Ida repeated as she looked at Irene, who was too busy trying to contain her growing moans. 

“Yeah, cramps,” Irene gasped, her voice marred with a depth of pleasure that was certainly not a part of any kind of cramp, but she chose to believe that her little trickery was still functioning rather than believing the alternative. 

Her attitude was truly a special treat — helped by her clothes that were barely able to contain her body, and our current level of closeness. 

“I don’t care, smile,” Ida said as she continued to take her photos. 

Irene moved forward, and as much as I wanted to pull her back and enjoy the depths of the special prison she prepared for more, I decided to let her go, as we had pushed her sufficiently. Yet, just as she had pulled back forward to the point only the crown was in her beautiful warmth, she changed direction, slowly pushing back in. 

She raised her head as she did so, giving me a glimpse of the mischievous smile she was wearing, instead of the shy glance I expected her to wear. 

Apparently, the idea of hiding such a monumental thing from her friend was enough to make her ignore the shyness of the situation, marking a grand difference from the time she had avoided me for half an hour just because I had managed to get a naked glimpse of her beautiful breasts. 

Ida clearly noticed the undertone I had noticed if her smile was any indicator, because I noticed her expression getting even tighter as she looked at Irene’s face. I smirked, once again more than happy to act as a mute during the warped battle of two friends. 

The nature of the battle between Ida and Irene was developing differently than the direct competition between Sarah and Naomi — one that was a weird mixture of a chain of dares and endurance competition — that certainly didn’t make it any less fun. 

Ida walked around us, taking more and more of our photos while Irene moved back and forth, slow enough to make it reasonable for her to think her little trick was still hidden, her beautiful core stretching more with each repeat, pulling me even deeper. 

It took a great deal of willpower from me not to grab Irene’s top and rip it off. Even though it was not covering a lot of area in the first place, the little it covered was getting more and more frustrating as things continued, but I ignored the temptation, allowing her to maintain the illusion that her sneakiness worked. 

Yet, Irene wasn’t the only one that was messing with my willpower. 

Ida walked around us several times as she photographed us, but not neglecting to stop behind me to caress my shaft at every turn. That little intervention — one that was actually sneaky unlike Irene’s misguided attempts — was enough to tempt me to action in the first place, but Ida didn’t limit herself to that. 

She also used the opportunity to fiddle with her clothing, the direction rather obvious. Every time she arrived in front of us, her skirt was a bit shorter as she folded it around her waist, and her chainmail top was a bit lower, loosened around her neck to deepen her cleavage. 

Irene either missed that detail completely, or she was simply too focused on her own little challenge to take notice of it, writing it off as an inferior seduction attempt compared to her own spectacular actions. 

Though I found the former more believable, as she was certainly distracted enough to miss the fact that Ida didn’t ask us to change the pose for the last several minutes. 

For me, there was one challenge, one of my hands was still occupied by the great ax I had picked, getting heavier by the second. It was not to the point that I couldn’t lift it, but enough for the discomfort to be actually noticeable. 

Enough, I decided as I leaned enough to drop it down without creating a commotion — but still standing straight enough not to interrupt Irene’s beautiful dance. 

“Who told you that you can drop it down,” Ida was quick to interrupt from behind me, her fingers shifting from the base of my shaft and landing on my hips once more, loud enough to explode. 

And loud enough to earn a chuckle from Irene. 

“Sorry, boss,” I answered, trying to sound serious but unable to hide my chuckle, which earned another, even harder, spank from Ida in punishment, though even her best attempt was unable to do anything more than a little stinging. 

At least, that was the impact on me. Irene had a much different reaction — albeit was more about me using it as an excuse to push my hips forward, skewering her tightness much faster than her own slow attempts — moaning loudly as she found herself filled even deeper, her voice beautiful. 

Her body rocked, making her breasts sway beautifully under the effect. 

Ida spoke again. “If you’re not going to grab the ax, let’s use your hands better. Rip off her top and grab her breasts. Let’s give the barbarian and his whore impression more accurately.” 

“Hey—“ Irene gasped in shock, one that was interrupted by her shock as I pulled her top off immediately, leaving her tits bare. “What are you doing?” she gasped in shock, though her scandalous tone would have been more appropriate if she didn’t push her hips back to devour my shaft once more. 

“Hey, orders are orders,” I answered as I grabbed her breasts, my hands covering more of her beautiful skin than that silly excuse of a top. Which meant, technically, she maintained a more modest look without her top. 

Of course, that required discounting the explosion of the sudden moan as my fingers started working on her breasts, ruining her dedication to keeping her voice low. 

“Much better look for a barbarian whore,” Ida commented, still behind me, still teasing my shaft. 

Irene answered, though her complaint came from an unexpected direction. “S-she’s not a whore. She’s a proud barbarian princess, destined to save her people.” 

“Maybe, but if you want people to believe that, maybe you shouldn’t moan like a whore while playing her,” Ida said. 

Irene chuckled. “Oh, like you would react being topless any better,” Irene answered, which might have been a fair comment considering Ida’s usual nature, but with a camera in hand, it was wrong to challenge her — especially since she was clearly feeling the build-up of arousal thanks to our earlier adventures. 

“Oh, really?” Ida answered as she took a step back, but the lack of contact didn’t mean I didn’t guess what she was doing. Her tone was revealing enough, but there was no mistaking of metal hitting the carpeted floor. 

There was only one piece of equipment that could make that noise. 

“No, you didn’t,” Irene gasped in shock, trying to turn back to look, but with my hands on her breasts, keeping her immobile even as I enjoyed their great expanse. 

She failed to turn, and Ida didn’t answer, but that didn’t mean she didn’t satisfy her curiosity. Ida walked in front of us once more, her surprisingly large breasts finally free from their confines as she walked with a confident gait — one that her skirt to rise up occasionally, sufficient to reveal her lack of panties, but Irene’s gaze was locked on her breasts. 

“What are you doing?” Irene gasped in shock as she looked at her friend. 

“Doing what you asked, of course,” she said before she turned to me. “Chad, it’s unfair for you to help her cover her,” she ordered. 

I decided to follow her order once more even though I was getting tempted to make her pay. Her attempts of dominance were certainly amusing, but making her pay later would be even more entertaining. 

Yet, as I watched her close in the distance between her and her half-naked friend, making Irene tremble in fear of being caught, I was willing to belay that punishment temporarily. 

The potential of the moment was too amazing to waste. 

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