4.13 – ❤ Ménage à Trois IV

Rosalie was having a crazy night.

Not in a bad way, necessarily. Just … it was a lot.

For eighteen years, sex and romance had been nearly the last thing on her mind. She wasn’t wholly inexperienced, at least in the mechanical sense. She’d played with herself, both fingers and toys, which was more than many did—those with more puritanical values, who viewed sexuality in a sinful light. Rosalie’s family wasn’t prudish in that way, though, and her upbringing certainly hadn’t been, either. In fact, it had mortifyingly been Tanya herself, Rosalie’s primary weaponmaster, who had suggested the idea as ‘stress relief’.

So, not prudish, necessarily. But still inexperienced on a grander scale. She’d had more important things to focus on. Namely, stepping into the role of heiress to, arguably, the most influential guild in the world.

Going from that … to this … was a bit much.

‘This’. Fucking her girlfriend’s throat with her own cock. Having a cock, in the first place. Though in a roundabout way, shared with Zoey, who’d taken a thick load—Rosalie’s, but also her own—straight down her throat.

It was a lot.

In a good way. In an overwhelming way.

She was having a crazy night, okay?

One that just kept getting more intense.

Better intense?

Look. She didn’t know. It was a mess inside her head. Not bad. She could say that much, at least.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Zoey murmured into her ear.

Like usual, her girlfriend’s voice—girlfriend—whispered so close to her, hot breath caressing her, snaked down her spine, making her shiver. Zoey’s presence was intoxicating. It wasn’t even her looks—though she was, by far, the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen—but rather her. So … caring. So unlike anyone else she’d met. Soft, sensitive, instantly understanding.

That was something Rosalie was unexperienced in. In her line of work, sensitivity was ground away, if it ever existed in the first place. It was a weakness best expelled. It had no place in the brutal labyrinths comprising the deepest reaches of the Fractures.

Which made Zoey’s affections, likely, something also worth expelling. But Rosalie had given up trying. Zoey was impossible to push away. She didn’t want to. And it shouldn’t matter what Rosalie wanted, but she … was weak. Zoey made her weak. And she didn’t want that to stop.

“I owe her a favor,” Rosalie finally replied. She whispered the response. Zoey had cozied up to her, checking in on Rosalie before the main event of the night.

“But you’re fine with it,” Zoey insisted. Serious green eyes held her own. How were they so transfixing?

The words annoyed Rosalie. The way Zoey was treating her. Both of them, for that matter. Like she were delicate. Double and triple verifying each of their advances, ensuring Rosalie was ‘okay’ with everything. Even Delta, that endlessly annoying woman, had made it redundantly clear that Rosalie didn’t have to ‘pay out’ on the favor. Not explicitly, but with body language, careful glances and concerned looks.

When the two of them were being so obvious about this being Rosalie’s choice, how was she supposed to pretend? That she didn’t desperately want this?

How was she supposed to save face?

She guessed viewing it that way wasn’t fair. It wasn’t how this should work. She hardly had experience in relationships, but she was pretty sure they shouldn’t be founded on facades, like Rosalie so desperately wanted.

Still. So embarrassing.

“It’s my choice,” Rosalie said, finally. “I know that.” She refused to outright say she wanted to fuck her irritating orange-haired teammate. It was what Zoey would prefer—stating outright, explicit intent—but Rosalie would curl up and die if she had to. After so much rivalry? Rivalry that still existed. She and Delta were hardly lovers. She was just … interested. In Delta’s body. Mostly because of Zoey’s interest. She wanted to indulge Zoey’s desires. That was what a girlfriend did.

Her own … mild arousal … was incidental.

Zoey held her eyes for a second longer, then smiled, satisfied. Rosalie blushed and looked away. She hated how easily Zoey read her.

Zoey kissed her on the cheek, then gave her one last encouraging smile. That done, she shuffled across the bed, crawling over Delta, who’d been lounging to the side, waiting for Zoey to ‘work Rosalie up to the event’. Not that Delta had framed it like that. Just, Rosalie knew what was happening. She wasn’t clueless.

Which left her sitting there, leaning against the headboards, watching her girlfriend lay herself out across another woman. The woman she’d be fucking shortly. With her girlfriend’s cock. Which was also her own.

What a night.

***

“She’s ready,” Zoey murmured to Delta, perched atop her. The orange-haired girl had a flush to her cheeks—an excited anticipation that was clear as day. “Are you?”

“Am I ready to get plowed by fourteen inches of girl cock?” Delta asked. “Hm. Let me think about it.”

Zoey laughed.

“But you have to kiss me first,” Delta said. “I’m hardly a romantic, but it feels wrong to fuck before we kiss.”

Zoey paused. They hadn’t, had they? They’d done all sorts of other things, but not kiss.

“Well, you never gave me that privilege,” Zoey said dryly. “If I’m remembering right, you fucked me with my own cock, no hesitations. No kissing.”

“I fucked myself with my own cock,” Delta said pointedly. “You were just inside my body. A passenger. That was a me-and-me event.”

Zoey raised her eyebrows. From Zoey’s perspective, that event had been so exciting because it was Delta inside Zoey’s body, fucking her. But she was learning that claim—that Delta wasn’t a romantic—was true.

“And I’d known you less than a day,” Delta added. “It was different. You were a fling.”

“And now?”

“Now … “ Delta trailed off, then blushed. “It’s just different.”

Zoey could intuit the lack of response. Now, it wasn’t just sex. Maybe not romance, yet, but inching that way. Which was odd—Delta didn’t seem like the kind of person to shy from that. But she had. She’d deflected. Why?

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Delta said. “Just—we should kiss, first.”

Zoey didn’t protest. She leaned forward and, gently, but not as chastely as her first kiss with Rosalie, took Delta’s mouth. Delta melted into her, pulling Zoey’s head closer, forcing Zoey’s mouth open. Zoey smiled as they sloppily explored each other. Not a blushing first kiss like with Rosalie—but that made sense.

Behind her, the bed indented, Rosalie having shuffled up behind them.

***

Well. This was happening, then. Rosalie was … fucking Delta. With her girlfriend laying on top, eagerly tongue-fucking her.

Fourteen inches of cock throbbed between her legs. Delta and Zoey only half seemed to acknowledge her, caught up in their own activities. That was a good thing. It gave Rosalie a reprieve. If both their attention had been on her as she shuffled up, cock in hand, she might have quailed, lost her nerve. Because as much as she wanted this—the extent of which she refused to consciously acknowledge—it was a lot. To deal with. To come to terms to.

Was it intentional, the way Zoey had ensnared Delta’s attention? Knowing Rosalie needed the opportunity to shuffle up, without being the focus?

Maybe. Or maybe she’d just wanted to kiss Delta.

That didn’t bother Rosalie. She didn’t believe hearts could only be shared one way. Zoey seemed more possessive in that regard, but her opinions weren’t Rosalie’s. And her possessiveness … that also wasn’t something that bothered her. Rosalie didn’t have time enough for one romance, much less several. It was good, even, that Zoey had others to keep her satisfied. As long as she didn’t neglect her.

She looked down at the two girls stacked on top of each other. Zoey was wearing the pink portal panties, so not much was exposed. Not much sensitive, at least. She was still naked, and her sensual form—back, legs, the curve of her ass, cupped by the panties—was still plenty to admire.

But Delta. Delta was truly naked, not a single article of clothing. Down lower, she was exposed and excited, glistening in anticipation.

Waiting.

Waiting for Rosalie’s cock. To thrust in, stuff her full, and finally bring her much needed relief, which Delta had been denied, having doted on Zoey and Rosalie so thoroughly. She’d made it her first priority to have this … event … be seamless. For everyone to be comfortable.

For Rosalie to be comfortable. Why did she care? Weren’t they … enemies? The thought dispelled as soon as she had it. Maybe they weren’t lovers, and maybe even they didn’t like each other—not in all ways—but that didn’t mean enemies in the literal sense.

Delta broke apart from Zoey, breathing heavily. “Seriously, blondie. Hurry up and fuck me.”

Rosalie realized she had frozen, heart pounding, a few inches from Delta. Stalling. Or, not stalling, simply working up the nerve.

Zoey, equally breathless from her thorough make-out session, turned around, so her back was pressed into Delta. Delta’s arms wrapped around Zoey’s stomach, tucking her in. Zoey locked a stunning green-eyed gaze to Rosalie, smiling encouragingly, cheeks flushed in excitement.

Delta nibbled at Zoey’s ear, then, Rosalie still not having moved, said, “Pretend it’s your girlfriend’s pussy if you want,” Delta said. “I just need a fucking cock inside me, okay? I don’t care if it’s yours. So fuck me.”

Rosalie had strong suspicions that she had picked those words carefully. Abstracting Rosalie, making her ‘just a cock’. She saw through them. Delta was flushed with the idea it was her. That she was the one that would be inside her, shortly.

But it was an excuse. Given to her.

Delta just ‘wanted cock’. To be fucked, well and thoroughly. That it was Rosalie was irrelevant. She was just the nearest warm body.

Never mind Zoey was there and could have done so herself. Never mind Delta had orchestrated the ‘strip spars’ to arrange this.

Rosalie gripped her cock, pressing the tip into Delta’s pussy, spreading the fox-girl’s lips. She wiggled it around, digging just barely inside, but not. Above, Zoey panted in excitement, feeling Rosalie’s, and her own, cock rub against wet, welcoming heat. A pussy neither of them had ever fucked, and would be doing so, together.

“Stop … teasing,” Delta groaned, burying her head into Zoey’s neck. “Fuck me! I need your fucking cock, blondie. Hurry up and—”

Delta cut off with a gasp.