This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

7.51 – A Leader’s Role II

Astrid watched, enraptured, as Rosalie d'Celestin—leader of her team and heiress to one of the most powerful polities in the world—pumped her girlfriend's cock with both hands, a lewd, distracted look on her face.

Astrid's breath hitched as she watched those small hands work along that massive cock, fingers barely able to close around the shaft. The sight alone was overwhelming. Rosalie, usually so regal and composed, now kneeling with her lips parted, even more lost in her head than Astrid herself, her grip growing slick as she worked the precum dribbling from Zoey's cocktip around the head and down the shaft.

Zoey sighed in satisfaction, her hips moving in slight jerks, helping Rosalie's efforts. "Fuck," she muttered, one hand resting above her stomach, her voice having turned husky. "That's good, Rosie. Go a little faster."

Astrid swallowed. She felt incredibly out of place here, kneeling and watching. Her hands clenched in her lap as she sat a few feet away from the other girls. Her pulse hammered in her ears.

However distracted she was by the massive cock she was servicing, Rosalie's attention turned back to Astrid shortly, and she noticed her squirming.

"You'll get used to it," she murmured in assurance, lips quirking. She continued her two-hand stroking even as she addressed her. Her gaze flicked to Zoey's cock, up to her face—the two of them sharing a look—before turning back to Astrid. "Partially, at least," she amended. "There's no real getting used to it."

Astrid wondered whether she meant Zoey's cock, or her class and the shards, or the general absurd situation she had ended up in. The words applied to all of it, regardless. And there was no way Astrid would get used to any of it.

Finding herself unbearably flustered, she sought out something to say. A way to insert herself into the event beyond just watching—but without joining in herself. Conversation? However inappropriate 'conversation' might be while her team leader was using her hands to pleasure her girlfriend's huge erection.

"A-Ah," she said, having to clear her throat. "Recharging." It was as clumsy an intro as she'd ever come up with. "How does work?" She corrected a second later, "It work." She'd been getting better about using this language the proper way, the way those around her did, but it was no surprise those efforts were lapsing right now.

Zoey, damn her, seemed to be by far the least bothered of the three of them, and she was the one being sexually attended to. How did that make sense? She was clearly too used to getting into these situations, Astrid internally grumbled. She would be playing catch-up for a while, wouldn't she?

"What do you mean?" Zoey asked, easily slipping a hand into Rosalie's hair and pulling her head closer to her cock as the platinum blonde kept jerking her off. The familiar act of intimacy sent a wash of heat through Astrid.

"Since I might have to help." She cleared her throat. "Just … wondering." That wasn't a lie, but the real reason she'd asked was that she had needed to say something to distract herself before she burst into flames. Though drawing Zoey's attention, much less the content of the question, induced its own sort of mortification. So maybe she should've stayed silent and watched the two women enjoy themselves. "So. How does it work?"

Thankfully, Zoey took the question at face value—though Astrid couldn't believe that she could keep her thoughts straight while being masturbated by her girlfriend, in front of another woman.

"The lewder the act, the more it gives, I guess?" Zoey said after a moment.

"Lewder?" she quoted.

"It's a vague term, but yeah."

"To who?"

She paused. "I would assume me, but maybe both of us?" Another pause, and she grinned as she looked down at Rosalie. "Or, anyone involved. But that's just a guess."

Fair. Getting a handle on one's skills through experimentation was standard practice, but this one sounded too varied and situational to be able to break down.

"But generally," Zoey continued, "more people, and the more involved we are, the more it recharges me. There's not much to it." A grin slowly crept across her lips. "You know, you two did

Astrid froze, flushing hard, the heat of it traveling down her body. She tried to fight the reaction with little success; her face was instantly on fire.

Though Rosalie was distracted by cock, she noticed Astrid's reaction and came to her defense.

"Stop trying to drag her into your depravity," she scolded Zoey. Her point was wholly unmade—or maybe amplified—when she idly slapped Zoey's cock into her face, the action so instinctual that she didn't even seem to realize what she'd done. "She's just watching," she chided. "Leave her be."

"Right, right," Zoey said, definitely aware of what her girlfriend had just done. She shared a smirk with Astrid, whose face somehow grew hotter. "I'll let you take care of her, then."

Rosalie nodded to herself, somehow making that simple action seem prim and haughty.

She chose that moment to stand and begin undoing the strings and straps holding her lower armor onto herself. Zoey's eyebrows went up, and Astrid's mirrored hers.

Baring her lower half with such casualness that, if it were possible, Astrid would have turned redder, Rosalie's cleanly shaved pussy came into view. Astrid wondered if she was even allowed to look; her eyes averted by instinct. Which was probably ridiculous, considering the circumstances. Looking was the entire point. She slowly turned her head back.

"Get down," Rosalie ordered Zoey. "Use my thighs."

"Yes, ma'am," Zoey murmured back, widening her stance—apparently understanding what Rosalie was asking, though Astrid herself initially hadn't.

Getting into position, Rosalie stepped in front of Zoey while still facing Astrid, her thighs slipping around Zoey's cock and clamping around it. Rosalie slid herself down, pushing her hips back, caressing that huge member with her thighs, and closed the distance with a smack of flesh—her ass hitting Zoey's pelvis. Zoey sighed in satisfaction, her hands settling on her girlfriend's hips.

"Thighs," she sighed happily. "Good choice. And it means you get to keep watching our cute voyeur here."

Astrid's nails dug into her knees as the two girls wasted no time in getting to work. Her breath grew even shallower as she watched Rosalie begin grinding and thrusting against Zoey's shaft, her arousal making the rod glisten alongside the precum she'd worked in with her thorough masturbation earlier.

Whatever dregs of Rosalie's composure that had survived the encounter thus far dissolved as she felt Zoey's cock sliding against her pussy, and her mouth parted to let out gasps of pleasure as she began thrusting, the head of Zoey's cock catching against her clit every time she pulled all the way back and made it pop out of her slick thighs.

"Fuck, Rosie," Zoey groaned, her hands digging into Rosalie's waist. "You feel amazing. Faster." Her hips jerked with the same rhythm as Rosalie's, driving herself hard into Rosalie's ass. The lewd sounds of slapping flesh made Astrid's core clench, a traitorous heat pooling low in her belly.

She shouldn't be this affected by just watching, right? And she certainly shouldn't be breathing so hard, or leaning forward to get a better view.

Zoey's gaze flicked down to Astrid, and her attention seemed to sharpen, the arousal clearing away. "I think our little voyeur likes the show," she purred into Rosalie's ear, a hand sneaking around to rub at Rosalie, the other groping a breast. "Look at her. Probably soaked through her armor. Are you sure we shouldn't let her join in?"

Astrid opened her mouth, maybe to form a half-hearted denial, but it died as Rosalie's moan interrupted her, high and desperate, her thighs trembling around Zoey's cock. She clearly hadn't even heard what Zoey had said, she was so lost in the feel of Zoey's cock between her legs.

She was close, wasn't she? Even Astrid could tell that much. Her mouth went dry.

The lewd noise Rosalie had made drew Zoey's attention away from Astrid, at least. A small salvation. She focused back on her girlfriend, and her thrusting grew faster. Trying to bring Rosalie to climax. The realization twisted her stomach—embarrassment and arousal tangling until she couldn't separate them. Watching her austere leader unravel for Zoey's cock felt wrong. Forbidden somehow.

Rosalie grew lost in the slick friction, and her pace quickened one more time, moans wrenching from her throat with each impact of her ass into Zoey's hips. Zoey grunted too with each slap, her abs flexing as she moved harder, faster, pounding between the other girl's thighs.

"C'mon, princess," Zoey growled softly into Rosalie's ear. "Break for my cock. Let her watch it happen."

The words tipped her over the edge. Her back arched, a broken whine escaping her throat as her orgasm hit—toes curling, thighs clamping around Zoey's cock. Zoey groaned, and she'd obviously been holding off alongside Rosalie, waiting for her turn; her thrusting picked up speed one last time, chasing her own release.

"Astrid," Rosalie gasped, both hands shooting down to wrap around Zoey's cock. "Come. Take it."

Astrid froze. Rosalie's flushed face stared at her, eyes sharp with lust and excitement, the woman's thighs still working to milk Zoey's shaft. From this angle, it looked like Rosalie's own cock jutting from between her legs.

Astrid's pulse roared in her ears, and her body acted without her conscious input. She shuffled over, bringing herself closer to Rosalie—and with Rosalie aiming Zoey's cock, the first hot strand hit her straight on the face.

Rosalie bit her lip, a keening noise escaping her throat. "Yes. There you go. Take it." She ground herself into Zoey's cock, stroking rapidly, milking Zoey onto Astrid's face in tempo with her rolling thighs. Thick strands of cum erupted across Astrid's face, her lips, her breasts, her hair—everywhere, with how sloppily and frantically Rosalie was milking her girlfriend.

Astrid shuddered, a small groan escaping her lips, overwhelmed. The warmth. The smell. It was too much. Her hips jerked involuntarily, a whimper trapped in her throat. Her body burned, and somehow, she was teetering on the edge herself, despite not having been stimulated in the slightest.

It continued for a while; it took a lot to milk Zoey dry, apparently.  When she'd finished, Astrid was drenched. She shuddered as the last warm streaks slid down her face. Her skin burned and her thighs were pressed tight together, but the ache between them went unrelieved; she refused to touch herself. Not in front of Zoey and Rosalie.

Rosalie broke the spell, releasing her hold and sighing in satisfaction. She leaned back on her heels with a breathless sigh, sagging into Zoey, who happily held her around the stomach. Her thighs glistened, her chest rising and falling as she steadied herself.

"There," Rosalie murmured, sounding dizzy. "Welcome to the team, Astrid. We're happy to have you."