5.47 – A Third I

5.47 – A Third I

Rosalie still wasn't accustomed to waking up in another woman's arms. She drifted to consciousness, face buried into Zoey's shoulder, a sweet, familiar scent filling her. Instinctively, she snuggled closer, basking in the moment.

This hadn't been a comfort she had ever expected to indulge in. A not-small part of her felt guilty for doing so. Her life wasn't supposed to be filled with soft touches, lazy mornings, and waking up cradled in another woman's arms. She had been raised as a weapon. A heiress to an empire. The pinnacle of a generation.

Rosalie sighed into Zoey's shoulder, enjoying the closeness of the other woman. For a while, she luxuriated in the warmth of her skin.

The rays of light filtering through the window announced it was well past time to wake, though, and while Rosalie might have given up on resisting Zoey, she would at least not completely forsake her responsibilities. With reluctance, she peeled her eyes open.

Rosalie paused at what she saw.

Of course.

The blanket around Zoey's waist was sticking up like a tent. Rosalie rolled her eyes, half in disapproval, half in amusement. Insatiable didn't begin to describe this woman. How many times yesterday had she been satisfied, and still she had the nerve to want more?

Rosalie's heart fluttered, seeing Zoey's impressive weapon, even obscured by the blankets. Despite how many times she had seen the monster, there was still a part of her that hadn't come to terms with it. How could anyone, considering the thing?

Well, regardless.

How should Rosalie take care of this problem?

The thought came to her, embarrassing in how automatic it was. She didn't need to pleasure Zoey every time she saw her erection. Still, Rosalie reasoned with herself, it was what a diligent girlfriend would do.

There was a problem, though. An inconvenient roadblock. She and Zoey weren't alone. Another woman was sleeping in their bed.

Delta, her long orange hair draped around her in a wild mess, was also snuggled into Zoey, on the other side of her. Rosalie had mixed feelings about that. On a third woman being added to their bed. First, the practical: the Guild accommodations simply weren't that expansive, and three women—or more, if that was what the future held, and Rosalie suspected it did—meant the space would quickly grow crowded. That wouldn't be a problem for long. Her bed back at the palace would be more than up to the task.

Her stomach wrung at the idea. The prospect of returning home. The event wasn't even far away. She needed to talk to Zoey about it. Clear the air. Why hadn't she, already? It would be much worse if Zoey found out on her own. She would think that Rosalie didn't trust her. And that wasn't remotely why Rosalie shied away from the conversation.

Rather, it was ... what? That she was scared things would change? That Zoey would see her differently? Did she believe that? The logical part of her didn't. Zoey didn't even have the full context to appreciate what being a d'Celestin meant. If anything, it was Delta who would receive the news like a punch to the gut. Zoey hadn't grown up in this world, and knowing her, she would just shrug her shoulders at the reveal. Be surprised, maybe, but it wouldn't change anything. Her introduction to this world had been via sponsorship of a deity—being torn through dimensions and her memories suppressed. What was dating hidden royalty, compared to that? Yet, Rosalie was still afraid to tell her. Irrational or not.

Rosalie had a few days left, or perhaps even longer, since the trip to Mantle wouldn't be quick. She could afford to push the event off for a while longer.

"Though, you should spread the love around," Delta continued, her eyes teasing. "I wouldn't mind my own good morning. As my girlfriend's girlfriend, it's the friendly thing to do, isn't it?"

Rosalie eyed the woman distastefully. She contemplated how to respond, before settling on ignoring her. That was usually the best choice when it came to the instigating foxgirl. Rosalie already found herself baited into conversation far more often than she was pleased by; she needed to learn to brush her off.

She returned to working her hands up and down Zoey's cock, her lips and tongue teasing at the tip.

"Wow. Just gonna ignore me? That's hurtful." She paused. "Actually, that's fair. You'd have to get her cock out of your mouth. We both know that's not happening. You've got your priorities straight."

The implication of Rosalie's character was clear. Delta, once again, insinuating she was a pervert. Rosalie pulled off Zoey, eying the annoying woman. "I'm making sure she won't be distracted for her lessons today," she sniffed. "Your accusations are unfounded, as always."

Delta snorted. Rosalie got the feeling her excuse—the truth, she meant—hadn't been convincing.

Delta extracted herself from Zoey's arm, sat up, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then shuffled over and joined Rosalie on the other side of Zoey. Zoey mumbled in response, shifting around at another girl leaving her side, but still didn't wake.

"Don't be stingy. We can share, can't we?" She leaned forward and kissed the other side of Zoey's tip. Rosalie, after thinking the proposition over for a moment, reluctantly agreed: Delta was obviously within her rights to also help solve this problem. Rosalie returned to her own post.

Together, they pleasured Zoey with two pairs of lips. It was a rather lewd experience. Her tongue, slipping around a hot cock tip, sliding against Delta's as they sloppily shared their girlfriend's cock. Kissing, in a way, though with Zoey's member in the way.

And Rosalie got the feeling Delta was deliberately trying to get her tongue and lips bumping into Rosalie as often as possible. Rosalie tolerated it. She didn't pull away or scold the woman. It was inevitable that they bumped into each other while handling the sloppy task of pleasuring Zoey.

Rosalie certainly wasn't set on fire by the contact, or, heaven forbid, something even more ridiculous, like having a thrill run through her with the idea that it was Delta she was kissing, and across her girlfriend's cock, no less. She couldn't imagine someone who she wanted to be kissed by less. Her fluttering stomach was purely a reaction stemming from the fact she had Zoey's cock in her mouth. Or perhaps the lewd nature of sharing it with another woman. Nothing more.

Then Zoey's cock jerked to the side, and, with nothing blocking the two of them, Delta's lips pressed into hers. The woman slipped her tongue into Rosalie's mouth. Rosalie, shamefully, responded, but only because she was caught off guard: she kissed back. Even more embarrassingly, Rosalie wasn't the one who pulled away first. Delta did.

"Oops," the foxgirl said. "Sorry. It slipped."

She tugged Zoey's cock back between their mouths, grinning at Rosalie. It had clearly not been an accident.

Rosalie, her face burning and lacking any redeeming response, returned to their sloppy sharing of their girlfriend. She ignored the sparkling purple eyes watching her—and even more so, she ignored the way her stomach squirmed at the sneak attack.

Seriously. What an annoying woman.