This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder than Expected (A Futa LitRPG)

2.05 A Trip to the Trees

Zoey's dreams were odd. Turned out, having her memories wiped by a demanding goddess resulted in dreams that didn't have much to latch to, and thus, were incoherent. Strange. Twisting and ephemeral. She wouldn't say they'd been outright upsetting, but they'd been bizarre. More mind-bending than most.

Rosalie's enthusiastic extracting from Zoey's lower half had made things up. Zoey's morning had started off pretty great, all things considered.

Rosalie had, of course, immediately upon their mutual satisfaction, risen from the bed and professed how they 'needed to get things moving'. Which was true enough. Zoey was supposed to be saving the world, whatever that meant. Why her party-member was more devoted to that goal than she herself was, Zoey didn't know. Considering Rosalie's urgent coaxing of Zoey's lower half, maybe Ephy had made the wrong choice. Here was a girl dedicated to power and sex in equal measure, for all her reticent and denying nature.

Why had Ephy chosen Zoey, anyway?

Zoey had a thousand and one impossible-to-answer questions bouncing around in her head, so it was hardly difficult to add that one to the list of 'ignored'. If there was any skill Zoey was cultivating since her arrival to this world, it was blissful ignorance.

She didn't ask, this time, to join Rosalie in the shower. And Rosalie didn't protest when she slipped in, then wrapped her hands around her waist, her lower half pressing into Rosalie's ass. Zoey was learning a few things about her serious-faced partner. Primarily, that she ought to stop asking, and start paying attention to how she reacted, instead. Which was a problematic mindset, Zoey knew. If a direct no ever came out of Rosalie's mouth, she would stop in an instant. But initiation—well, Zoey needed to be assertive when it came to that. Even if Rosalie alluded to not wanting Zoey's attention.

Shit. That sounds bad. She'd have to walk that tight-rope carefully. But for Rosalie? She would. Happily.

Zoey enjoyed the hot spray of water, hunched over and resting her head on Rosalie's shoulder as Rosalie lathered soap across herself, pretending to ignore Zoey. Or maybe actually ignoring her. Again, hard to tell with this girl.

"You're so useless," Rosalie huffed. "Not even going to help?"

Zoey laughed, water droplets slipping down her face and from her lips, before aiding Rosalie in lathering the soap across her body. She made sure to play with Rosalie's tits—rubbing pointer-fingers across cute, hard nipples until she was breathing hard—while getting her well and thoroughly clean.

Rosalie returned the effort, though stopped thrusting her hand into Zoey's cock when it had reached full mast. Tease, Zoey wanted to say, despite the fact she'd done the same thing just a second earlier, rubbing fingers into Rosalie's tits and between her legs.

They stepped from the shower, skin flushed in excitement, but knowing they needed to move on with their day.

Can't spend forever fucking each other, Zoey thought.

Which was a tragedy, but she'd have to learn to live with it.

Zoey watched Rosalie go about her morning routine. She dried her hair with some magical item that vaguely resembled a hairdryer—only vaguely, by function, a rock with some sigil carved into it that blew hot air—then how she wrangled her long, platinum hair into a ponytail. The domesticity of it all ached Zoey's heart.

"It looks great on you," Zoey said, which received a huff as Rosalie continued to go about her routine.

"Are you going to get dressed, or just watch me?

"The second."

Zoey savored the coloring in Rosalie's cheeks. Zoey's heart skipped a beat, and her earlier words—you'd be easy to fall for—hammered into her ears. Not easy. Effortless. Impossible to not.