Duo

She tried to say something, but only managed a strangled croak, cracking a thin smear of his cum that had dried on her cheek. The taste in her mouth mingled with the taste of his tongue and his skin, and a salty blood taste that might have been hers or might have been his. Then she noticed the circular wound on his shoulder. So that explained that. Her arse ached, her cunt was too sore to make walking properly anything but an exercise in self-flagellatory self-discipline and her nipples sent a steady throbbing pain through her. It would probably not have made any difference to her to know that she had bitten his just as hard.

He also tried to speak, and also gave up. He had been trying to say that they had three and a half hours to get sleep, if they could shower and dress in half an hour, which was unconscionably long by Academy standards, but might be needed this time. But there would be no talking without throat-wetting.

Each had a litre of water by their side of the bed (the fact that only one, double, bed had been provided no longer surprised or amused them). It was a good start.