It was hard to think clearly when in the middle of a good fuck, that much
was certain. A mediocre fuck, you could ignore what was going on for a
while, come back during the brief yet relatively lackluster 'better' parts,
and then continue your conversation with yourself.

Bako liked this whore because he didn't talk much, unlike all the other
whores she'd dealt with in her time in the militia. Most thought that
because you were a woman, you loved to talk before and after--well bullshit
on that, all Bako needed was some dick, not a bard. If she wanted some song 
and dance, she'd have gone to the tavern, not that certain part of the
bazaar. Now a nice kiss and some touching, that was nice. Bako considered
herself quite sexually cultured nowadays, compared to how she started out.
Used to be that she got right to it. Enjoying the finer things in life was
an acquired taste, she supposed, and she was slowly appreciating a few more
things.

Another thing she liked about this whore is that he never wanted his dick
sucked. That was one thing Bako never felt comfortable doing, being on her 
knees. You never knew what you were going to 'get' with some of the poorly 
made mul mix some of these cheap whores were buying. Not that this
particular whore was cheap, but some gut feelings had convinced her to make
it a 'rule' to not suck any whore dick. A lot of women she knew liked doing
it, but Bako could never figure out why. Anyway, she preferred being on top,
but might settle for other things every once and a while, if she was feeling
rather drunk or tired, (like now.)

Bako's head suddenly swam with a dizzy excitement as she panted, unable to
do anything in her helplessly blissful state but squirm. Black curtains 
pulled over her vision.

"Bako?"

A hand nudged her back into consciousness, and she blinked a few times. 
Staring at the ceiling for a moment, before turning her head toward the
voice, she saw Grek beside her on the cot. He was just as beautiful as he
had been before they started fucking and she was slobbering drunk--which was 
the terribly addicting part of his services. (She did take note that he bore
the physical signs of strain and exhaustion, with a healthy coat of sweat 
over his pretty dusky skin.)

Still feeling slow and drowsy, Bako reached out toward Grek's ear to give a 
faint tug.

She said to him, "Grek?"

Grek reached up with a much larger hand, (a shame he had not become a
soldier, for he had the build to be a small mul,) and clapsed it around 
hers. He stroked her casually, regarding her with barely seen brown eyes in
the perpetual darkness that came with the sandstorms. (She was lucky that
they had managed to get inside just before this one had kicked up.)

Grek whispered, "You passed out again?"

Bako nodded her assent, biting her bottom lip. It had happened quite a few
times, now. She did not know why, but this man... this man was capable of so 
much it sent her right back to being a recruit smashed on the head by the 
Corporal--knocked out cold. Naturally, she had to have drank a little most 
times, but it happened regardless without the firebreather at times.

"Ya, I'm fine, ya sissy fuck," she reassured affectionately, words holding 
no malice in them despite her gruff choice in them.

"Eh. Time for ya to be goin, Sergeant?"

She was to be taking the helm of Sergeant next month, so she quietly and 
privately enjoyed the title spoken to her. He was right though, there was a 
slowly creeping dawn upon them.

As she was finished getting dressed Grek approached her, still bare-assed. 
She held out a hand to halt him bluntly, narrowing her brow at him with a 
quick clench in her jaw.

She sharply told him, "I'm wearing the cloak, ya silly fuck. Ya aint touchin
me. We talked bout this shit last time, Grek."

Grek gently pushed aside her hand, which seemed a routine and easy maneuver 
because of his greatly underappreciated strength. He stepped toward her, 
tracing a finger down her cheek. This sent her in a conflicting storm of 
emotion. She wanted to fuck him senseless, but also wanted to shove her 
thumbs into his eye sockets for disrespecting her. (She was nearly a 
Sergeant!)

If she stayed, she would surely be late again. Her Sergeant that she was 
supposed to replace would likely beat the shit out of her. Again. She might 
lose Sergeant.

She thought, Fuck that, I'm going to hit him.

And she did, but then she couldn't help but grab at his dick, and the choice 
had been made in that single lustful motion. There wasn't any going back,
she was halfway out of her cloak and shoving him onto the cot. They wouldn't 
miss her at morning drills--she could come up with some bullshit excuse 
about wall duty, anyway. They sometimes bought that. It was a pretty decent 
gamble.