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Romeo spat on her hands, and wiped the blood off her face as she rose.
“Well fought!” called a voice, and she looked over in response. The shout had come from a black-haired woman, hair pulled back and making no attempt to hide the brand on her cheek.
“Thanks!” Romeo called back, and the woman smiled, wandering over.
“I’m Opal,” she said.
“Romeo.”
“Well, Romeo,” Opal said, stepping over Romeo’s opponent, unconscious on the dirt, “You’ve certainly impressed me.”
Romeo moved in a little closer, and Opal moved closer still in turn, until they were all but touching.
“Have I now?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. Perhaps I could, ah, demonstrate how much?”
This startled a quiet laugh out of Romeo. “What am I, some noble whelp? If you’re interested, we can do something, sure.”
“As you wish, dear. In that case, want to fuck?”
“Absolutely.”
So, they did, and it was fun. They kept meeting up after that, often for sex, but as the months went by, more and more often for drinks and conversation as well. They became firm friends, who fucked sometimes. Really, what more could either of them ask? They both always enjoyed the time they spent together, whatever its form, and that was more than good enough.