Rosalie's skin was on fire the moment she exited the training room. She couldn't really be doing this. Her, the heiress to an entire highguild? She was hardly an instantly recognizable public figure, hence why she didn't go through extensive efforts to disguise herself, but that said, it wasn't entirely out of hand that someone recognized her.
And she was walking around with fourteen inches of her girlfriend's cock stuffed inside her?
Almost idly, she tightened her stomach, then rubbed a hand there. She could feel Zoey's cock through her shirt, or the bulge of it, at least.
Poise training, she reminded herself. She was simply building up a resistance to her arousal. Clearly, that needed to be done, with how distracted she was recently.
And it made total sense that this was an effective way to handle that problem.
A part of her rolled her eyes at the hoops she was jumping through to justify this event, but she stalwartly squashed it down. Poise training, she scowled at that mutinous voice.
Walking was a bit troublesome. Not just because she had a twitching, pulsing rod the side of her forearm—bigger, even—inside her, but because the smooth metal linking plate between her legs also made it awkward. That said, her real problem was having her organs mixed around with each step. It took nearly everything she had not to moan, or even whimper, as she strode down the hallway.
The glass windows peeking into the non-private training rooms at least acted as mirrors, and Rosalie could tell she was keeping control of herself. She moved naturally, despite the difficulty of doing so, with long regal steps, and her face was impassive, her usual stoic mask. Her years of genuine poise training had come with some benefits, and she wasn't entirely hopeless.
She reached the receptionist. Making eye contact with another woman while her girlfriend's cock was pulsing heat inside her, crammed nearly to her breasts, was more of an ordeal than she expected it to be. Rosalie was nearly set on fire with shame. Her. The heir to the d'Celestin empire. Walking around like a perverted exhibitionist. Sure, her real intent was to train her composure, but a regular person wouldn't buy that if she were somehow caught.
And, unfortunately, with the shame came an equal amount of arousal. Her pussy clamped down on Zoey's cock, and a moan nearly escaped her lips. In a burning instant of clarity, she realized that if Zoey finished, Rosalie might have some serious problems. What would she do if a bucket's worth of cum, Zoey's typical absurd load, started pouring into her?
This was a terrible idea.
She kept going.
Rosalie met warm brown eyes with her usual cool gaze. "I'm done with room 14-K." She slid the key across the counter. "Have a nice day."
"You as well, Miss," the brunette said, flashing her a smile. Rosalie returned it with a polite nod of her own, then turned and left.
Zoey's cock stirred around inside her with each step.
At least it was staying in without too many issues. She didn't have to constantly reach down and adjust it. Though the urge to do so was prevalent—though by 'adjust', she meant fall down and start pumping vigorously.
Rosalie modified her plans. She'd initially intended to head out into the city and run errands, but she admitted that was vastly overestimating her capabilities. Part of being a competent wayfarer meant recognizing what was and wasn't possible, and Rosalie knew being out in public, surrounded by so many people, was something she wouldn't survive through. Already her pussy clamped and squirmed against Zoey's cock, pleasure coursing through her with each twitch of her agitated girlfriend's thick member. Zoey had to be upset that Rosalie was just keeping it there, letting it sit inside her. Though each step stirred it around, so it was hardly fully neglected.
Which was the second problem; Rosalie was having fun with this—er, she meant, this was proving itself as effective training—but she couldn't risk having Zoey finish inside her while she was literally out in the streets. That was too much even for her.
Instead, she would stay in the training facility. She knew her way around and had practical goals here besides: she wanted to observe the various wayfarers at the public sparring pads. She'd had plenty of experience studying different combat styles, but improvement was an ongoing process; there was always something to learn from others, and that held true even when Rosalie could probably handle three or more opponents of equivalent progression by herself. While not remotely meeting her standards, that didn't mean she couldn't glean insights from others.
Beyond that, she'd been keeping a passive eye out for talent. She didn't think they'd be finding a fifth party member before leaving for Mantle, but she didn't close herself off to the idea. Especially with Zoey's receiving of the 'stat sharing' skill, it was clear that a larger party was better than a smaller one.
The number of extremely competent, low-advancement wayfarers who were interested in being railed by fourteen inches of girl cock was, though, not extremely high—and hard to suss out. But she still kept an eye out. If nothing else, she'd familiarize herself with more combat styles.
Walking through the facility toward the dueling pads was an ordeal. Rosalie kept outwardly in control of herself, besides perhaps a flush that wouldn't go away, but inwardly was another matter altogether. Heat pulsed and crashed through her with every small movement. By the time she arrived to her destination, which was only a short two-minute walk, Rosalie had started twitching, an impending climax having built up that she fought against with everything she had.
She'd been right about one thing, she supposed. This was excellent training for keeping control of herself. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, not giving in and letting the pleasure course through her.
The terror of that event also kept it at bay—and also, paradoxically, worked her even higher. She was surrounded by people. While maybe she wasn't giving herself away right now, if she finished, she obviously wouldn't be able to hide what was happening. Everyone nearby would watch her climax on her girlfriend's cock. In public.
She basked in the salvation of finally getting to stop and watch the nearest dueling pad, with Zoey's cock no longer stirring her around. She posted up far away from any other clumps of people. She obviously wasn't interested in discussing the ongoing fights.
Even standing there wasn't the easiest task, but it was easier than having Zoey's cock move around with each step. Slowly, the climax that had been hanging a fingernail's distance away subsided. Her lower half still clenched and squirmed against the cock inside her, but she wasn't at immediate risk of orgasming in the middle of dozens of wayfarers—some of whom she even knew by this point, having spent several days training in this exact facility.
For a while, she hazily watched the ongoing fight. The fugue of arousal made it a rather unproductive effort, but she tried her best to analyze their styles. It even made the distracting, pulsing presence inside her easier to push out of her mind. Though not easy—just easier.
"Rosalie?" a cheerful voice rang out.
Rosalie froze.
Oh, no.
She turned to the familiar voice.
"Funny meeting you here," the bright, friendly blue-haired mage joked, practically skipping over to Rosalie. "You're back already? Quicker than I thought."
This was … not ideal.
Then again, this had been what she wanted, right? Poise training? A test of her composure? She'd gotten what she'd asked for.
"It was a short mission," Rosalie said, somewhat stiffly. "It's good to see you, Maddy."