Makoto saw his chance as the girls were focusing on the flustered Mafuyu. In a move that was both brilliant and cowardly, he snuck behind Yuna's Pikachu and punched it away.
Yuna had been caught off guard. She let out a strangled shriek as her Pikachu went flying off the screen with a pathetic, high-pitched squeal.
"YOU CHEATING BASTARD!" Her voice cracked with impotent fury. "That doesn't count! I was distracted!"
Makoto didn't even spare her a glance. His Fox was already on Mika, a blur of motion and laser fire. "Oh, that won't work. I'm always two steps ahead of you, darling," her low voice purred from the other side of the couch.
Mika wasn't so easily flustered. Her Peach floated and dodged, moving with surprising grace. She countered his attacks with a vicious flurry of slaps and kicks.
He turned just in time to see Ayane's Samus, her arm cannon glowing bright. "I'm just taking out the trash." The charge shot hit him square in the chest, making a massive explosion.
"GAME!"
He was out again, and so was Yuna. The two remaining players were Ayane and Mika.
Ayane let out a long whistle. "Damn, Mika, you're good." She looked at Makoto and Yuna with a triumphant smirk. "Looks like it's the two of you, again."
"Fine, fine, remember to take something off, too, Yuna." He shrugged, then pulled down his boxers this time. He didn't even try to hide his throbbing cock.
The room went silent.
The only sound was the cheerful victory music from the television screen. Yuna's malicious grin froze on her face. Her jaw went slack. Her eyes went wide with shock and excitement mixed together. "Oh," she whispered. "You're... you're really not playing around anymore, big bro."
Ayane's amused smirk vanished, replaced by a look of professional appreciation. "Well, now," she said. "That's a bold strategy. Let's see if it pays off for him."
Mika just stared. Her serene mask was gone. Her mouth fell slightly open, her eyes wide with shock. Seems like this wasn't in her calculation.
And Mafuyu let out a small, strangled squeak. She yanked the t-shirt back up to her chin, her eyes wide with panic. But she didn't look away at the cock that was inside her earlier.
Yuna finally rebooted. A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. "Fine," she purred. She reached for the hem of her band t-shirt, her movements slow and deliberate. "A bet is a bet."
She pulled it over her head, her twin-tails a wild mess. Underneath, she was wearing a simple black sports bra. "My turn," she said. She picked up her controller, a new fire in her eyes. "And this time, I'm not holding back either."
The next match was brutal. Ayane and Mika had somehow formed a silent alliance. They moved with coordinated precision, a two-headed monster of skill and strategy. Yuna didn't stand a chance.
While Ayane taunted Yuna, Mika floated around the edges of the battle like a puppet master. She picked up items, threw turnips, and waited for the perfect moment to strike.
That moment came when Yuna, in a burst of hubris, tried to land a finishing blow on Ayane. Mika floated down with a Bob-omb held in her hand. She dropped it right on Yuna's head. Another massive explosion sent Yuna flying off the screen.
"GAME!"
Yuna just stared at the screen, her mouth slightly open. Ayane blew a kiss from the tip of her controller. "All's fair in love and Smash, baby."
Yuna shot a look at Mika that could kill. With a low, furious growl, she reached for the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down.
The game resumed. The next match was supposed to be another brutal takedown of Makoto, but he had something else in mind. "Hmm, you haven't lost any clothes, Mika. We should change that." He moved next to Mika and rested her head on his thighs, dangerously close to his erect cock.
Mika let out a soft gasp as he pulled her head onto his lap. The sudden, intimate gesture short-circuited her brain. She went still, her controller falling from her nerveless fingers.
Her cheek was resting on his thigh, just inches from his hard, exposed cock. She could feel the heat radiating from it, the faint pulse of his blood. Her eyes were fixed on the hard, throbbing length of him, just inches from her face. Her breathing came in short, shallow gasps.
On screen, her Princess Peach, now a mindless, drifting character, was immediately set upon by a vengeful Pikachu and a surprisingly competent Isabelle.
"Hey! What are you...?" before she realized it, Yuna's Pikachu unleashed a vicious Thunder Jolt, sending her Peach flying.
"Oops," Yuna said with venomous sarcasm. "My hand slipped."
Mafuyu, who seemed to have finally gotten the hang of the game (or at least, the button for "smash attack"), waddled over. With a cheerful "ding-dong," she whacked the stunned Peach with her fishing rod.
"GAME!"
Ayane just leaned back with a predatory grin. "Well, well, well," she said. "Look who finally lost a round."
"Nice work, Mafuyu-nee," he giggled. "Come on, it's time for you to loosen up, Mika." He leaned down to lick her earlobe.
A violent shiver wracked Mika's frame. The lick on her earlobe was a spark, a final push over the edge. A small, choked whimper escaped her lips. She closed her eyes, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek.
Slowly, with a trembling hand, she reached for the hem of her oversized band t-shirt. She pulled it over her head, her movements a little clumsy and shaky. Underneath, she was wearing a simple white lace bra. She sat there, a defeated vision in lace and cotton.
"There," Yuna said triumphantly. She had finally gotten her sweet revenge. "Now we're even," she added.
Ayane let out a long whistle. "Damn," she muttered. "Remind me to never play Smash against you guys again."
"Hmm, was that the lingerie I bought for you and Yuna back then? Totally worth the money." He licked his lips, looking around to enjoy the view.
Then he found his next target: the smirking Ayane. "Let's continue the game."
Ayane's smug smirk froze. Her eyes went wide as she realized that she was the only one left fully clothed. She was the last domino, the final boss, the only remaining obstacle in his path.
"Wait," she said, her voice shaky. "It's three against one. That's not a fair fight."
"Life's not fair, it was your fault for teaming up with the scheming bitch earlier," Yuna snarled. She was back in the game, her Pikachu a tiny, yellow ball of vengeful fury running toward Samus.
"Sorry, partner," Mika added, her voice soft. She had picked up her controller again, her Princess Peach now an angel of death.
Mafuyu, who was still trying to figure out how to do a special move, just gave Ayane a small, apologetic smile.
===
The match began. And it was a massacre.
Yuna's Thunder Jolts stunned Ayane in place. Mika's turnips rained down from above. Makoto's Fox laser fire peppered her from a distance. And Mafuyu just ran around, accidentally planting a tree in the middle of the stage, which Ayane immediately tripped over.
Ayane didn't stand a chance.
"GAME!"
Ayane just stared at the screen, her mouth slightly open. She looked at the three of them, a united, half-naked, triumphant front. And then, she started to laugh. "Okay," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You win." She stood, her movements a little unsteady.
"But for the record," she added, her voice a little too sweet. "I'm not just taking off one thing." She reached for the hem of her shirt with a slow, predatory grin. "I'm taking off everything."
"Up to you," Makoto shrugged, then walked closer to her, close enough to smell her sweat. "Letting your hair down like that makes you look even more alluring, Ayane."
Ayane's fingers, which had been confidently tugging at her shirt, faltered for a fraction of a second. A slow blush crept up her neck, a stark contrast to her usual teasing confidence.
"Oh, you think so?" she purred, but her voice was a little shaky.
She recovered quickly, her confident smirk snapping back into place. "You're just saying that because you're about to get a free show," she said. But then she reached up and pulled the second chopstick from her hair.
The rest of her dark, silky hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She shook her head, the movement slow and sensual, and the scent of her shampoo washed over him. Something clean and slightly floral.
She kicked off her shoes and peeled off her socks. Then, with a single, fluid motion, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. She was wearing a purple bra underneath.
Her hands went to the button of her jeans. The sound of the zipper was a loud buzz in the suddenly quiet room. She pushed them down her hips, revealing a pair of matching purple panties. She stepped out of the jeans, kicking them away.
Ayana stood there in black cotton, hands on her hips, a defiant, challenging glint in her eyes.
"Well?" she said. "Is this alluring enough for you?" Her gaze traveled from his eyes down to his crotch and back up again. "Or should I take off the rest?"