Catherine and Shamir

Claude was thinking up a new scheme when he saw Catherine and Shamir in the courtyard. The tan-skinned knight and the archer from Dagda were chatting, clearly about to go out on a mission.

"Hey there, you two," Claude greeted them. "The Church sure keeps you busy, don't they?"

"Indeed they do," Shamir sighed. "Though I personally wouldn't mind less work."

"Don't be like that, Shamir," Catherine said. "We are the goddess' blade, after all."

"Shamir, isn't it normal for you to be topless on monstery grounds and offer a man the opportunity to fondle your boobs for as long as they please?"

"You're right, Claude," Shamir said in her normal deadpan tone. "Forgive me."

She hoisted her shirt off and unclasped her bra, revealing her pale and perky tits in all their glory. "Claude, would you like to...?"

"Don't mind if I do," Claude grinned, beginning to massage Shamir's tits.

"Don't keep her too long, Claude," Catherine said nonchalantly. "We do have a mission to get to, after all."

It seemed his abilities worked to their fullest. Catherine now saw nothing bizzare with what he or her friend were doing.

"Shamir, isn't it also normal for you to talk about your tits while they're being fondled?"

Shamir turned to Catherine. "How do my boobs look, Catherine?"

Catherine blushed. "Um, they look...fine. Perfectly healthy."

Claude snickered as he kept mauling the archer's tits/