- Fifty years of constraint before satisfying your nature, what a waste.
- In this respect, you have not lost too much time, Sextus, and in fifteen days you have made up for the little that you lacked. Drussus, you have, it seems, also recruited to the party of the philosophers?
- You mean little Fronto. No time wasted on him. Taking Calvisius Statianus as an example, he has been hunting the Roman citizen for a while now, despite his young age, but with such discretion that his grandfather’s circle of philosophers has not yet noticed. I was obviously in his potential game and I could not cross him without his fixed gaze leaving me with no possible doubt as to his objective. Outside Euphorion's baths, I have complete freedom for my partners and this pretentious young greenhorn did not seem to me to deserve my good graces. Calvisius got wind of the pretensions of this youngster, who not only refused him, but claimed to want to compete with him! Gaius asked me if I would not participate in the education of young Fronto. Last week, while you were teasing Marcellus, Fronto, in a hurry to leave with the two emperors, began to pursue me with even greater assiduity. Two nights ago we agreed with Calvisius to set the trap. I was finally to respond to the young man's invitations and lead him to a room in the palace, where Gaius had hidden himself behind a screen."
A few kisses, time to undress and Paulus embraces the future victim on a bed. He covers the supple skin with caresses and kisses. Fronto abandons himself for a moment to the muscular body, delighted by the turn the fight is taking. Drussus leans back, on his back, mouths the young man's erect cock, squeezing the loins with his powerful arms. Fronto leans forward, also swallows Paulus' thick cock. Without stopping his vigorous fellatio, Drussus slides his hands over the firm buttocks, spreads them and runs his fingertips over the crack thus offered, offering a magnificent spectacle to Calvisius behind his screen. Fronto is not left out and he also advances his hand between the muscular buttocks. Paulus abandons himself to the indiscreet exploration, the young knight groans with pleasure and his wriggling even makes one of Paulus' phalanx penetrate his own ring. His cock in Paulus' mouth reached an extraordinary tumescence.
Without the slightest sound, Gaius steps forward. Drussus holds the buttocks firmly apart. Fronto does not understand at once that it is no longer Drussus' fingers pushing on his ring but Gaius' turgid head. With a jump Gaius leans on his hips and, forcing the ring, slides his cock into the flesh. All of Fronto's muscles contract with a cry. He tries to free himself but firmly gripped by the two men, any movement is impossible. And soon his will no longer controls the surge of desire. Calvisius then pounds him with all the passion of long-awaited pleasure. The supple buttocks match the shock of his hips. The tightening of the ring to the spasms of the knight's orgasm triggers his own.
Without giving young Fronto time to recover, Paulus grabbed his head and crushed a fiery kiss on his lips. "For the price of your virginity, you are entitled to an extension of the session," he whispered to him. Calvisius slipped away without a word. "Fronto did not have much to complain about his mishap, because I made the extension last until well after the end of the night. And he had even made a discovery, because exhausted from having fucked me several times, he ended up asking me to bugger him in turn. I think Gaius has no more imitators."
Procullus is squeezed ever tighter between Drussus and Hierokles, whose lips meet with ever greater passion. The Cisalpine begins to be a psychologist. He slides like a orvet out of their embrace, and without a word slips away. The two men embrace even more tightly. The Greek's hands move up Paulus's sides to rest on his shoulders. His fingers run over his friend's torso. Drussus' mouth slides down the throat to his birth, then begins to run over Hierokles' hairy torso and plants his teeth on the thick nipple. Under the strong bite, the entire muscular mass of the monoboles contracts. A long moan of pleasure splits the air. Paulus' Adam's apple and all the muscles of his throat dance while his mouth continues to suck the fleshy nipple.
Hierokles runs his hand through his friend's hair and gently pulls his head towards his other breast. Then squeezes him tightly in his arms, the moans of pleasure intensify and redouble while the sucking of his second nipple continues. And the more ardent the bite becomes, the tighter the grip of the arms tightens. The solid biceps of the monoboles are covered with blue veins, swollen with hot blood. Drussus grabs Hierokles' wrists to try to leverage them, but he does not succeed. It is only after he has stopped biting the breast that the Greek releases his grip. Then, Paulus' fingers tenderly caress the thickets of the hairy chest and his tongue begins to lap the bruised nipples to calm the fire.
Glued together between their bellies, the two big swollen dicks, like two proud blades cross swords, that of Drussus, fleshy, with thin skin, that of Hierokles, thick and long, his head bouncing almost to the navel. From the shoulders the hands of the Greek go down the back to the narrow waist. He grabs the buttocks, one in each palm. They are hard and firm and play under the fingers with each movement. Their breathing accelerates.
Hierokles steps aside, falls to his knees in front of the Roman's imposing cock. Impetuous, the head plunges deep into his throat, reaching the uvula. His lips slide over the soft, smooth skin. He tastes the first drops that flow onto his tongue. Drussus groans deep in his chest. With one hand, the Greek caresses the flat stomach, crossed by a fine furrow of hair, goes up towards the torso, plays with the nipples, which stand up on the fleshy pectorals. He pinches them gently and the cock wiggles in his throat. With the other hand he explores the ass, hills of flesh and hard muscles. A curved finger digs into the soft dark hole, probing modestly at first, then going deeper. Tongue and finger move in unison. The tribune slides his hand into the abundant brown hair, pushing the head back. The slave's mouth regretfully abandons the sweet rod. His hand takes over, polishing the wet shaft. Raising it, his hand continues to pump as their bodies press tightly together again.
Paulus steps back, it’s his turn to fall to his knees. With one hand he pistons himself and uses the other to grab Hierokles’ cock and pull the erect spear away from his belly. His tongue tastes the purple flesh then slowly surrounds the head. The lips slide faster and go down the length of the spear, swallowing it whole. The Greek watches this mouth struggle on his stiff dick and sees lower down the hand that pumps the other between muscular thighs. He caresses the powerful shoulders and the short supple hair. His mouth salivates, his ring tightens. He turns and, leaning on a bench, spreads his thighs wide to offer his benefactor his pleated slit. Still on his knees, Drussus slides his tongue into the ass and plugs the opening with saliva. Then he gets up and presses the tip of his cock against the entrance. The hungry ring practically sucks his stake in, dragging him so deep that his balls hit his thighs. Thus buried, the tribune pauses to secure his hold on the Greek's hips, before beginning the thrusting movements that must satisfy their passionate fury.
The long, thick, hard cock slides into the ass deep into the entrails, comes out to the head, slams forward again. Tightening their grip, Drussus puts one arm around Hierokles' waist and grabs the straight, stiff spear with the other hand. The assault seems endless. With a final roar, Paulus pushes his cock in as if he wants to become one with his lover. A furious stream of cum spurts into the tunnel of flesh and at the same time the dick crushed by Drussus' hand spits its juice which goes to crash on the opposite wall. Not at all calmed by this first outburst, the two bodies resplendent with ecstasy Let themselves slide to the ground, their hot flesh on the cold marble mosaic. Each holds the other's tail between their lips, sucking frantically, appropriating the other's sap. The heads swell again, a heavy flow fills their throats, followed by isolated salvos, three or four times. When their mouths are full, the circle breaks and their lips meet, mixing their rich seed. Finally satiated, they fall asleep in a tender embrace, the Greek's head resting on the Roman's chest.
-----
Dazzled by the warm light of the torches, Marcus Marcellus reopens his eyes. At first he can only make out the bright white of a toga. Euphorion greets the patrician's awakening with a smile. His gaze still misty, the Roman looks around the room, gathering his memories. The abandonment of pleasure fades before stoic modesty, Marcellus crosses his legs high to hide his complete nudity and his eyes return to Euphorion. To break the feeling of decadence that curls up his body, it is enough to transform what is still only an exception into an accepted habit. Pointing to the armchair opposite him, the Greek simply replies to the mute gaze: "Sit down, you are at home." Marcellus seizes the opportunity to find a more correct position. He roughly wraps himself in his toga, which has remained balled up at the foot of the armchair, and sits down. Euphorion claps his hands. Shortly after, a young ephebe enters, bringing some cakes and a pitcher. The gaze of the patrician who follows the supple naked body disappearing behind the curtain does not escape Euphorion. "I took the liberty of watching over your sleep, thinking that when you woke up you would be hungry. You surely did not take the time to eat after the departure of the emperors and the afternoon is already well advanced."
The tone is that of conversation, the Roman relaxes. He raises his hand to the tray. His gaze fixes on the dried sperm that stains his toga, a short shiver runs through him. But from the bottom of his stomach, a surge of pleasure responds to this tremor. Between his thighs, his sex becomes firmer. Marcellus' gaze rises again towards Euphorion, but this time sparkling and a broad smile responds to that of the Greek. "I hope that you will honor me regularly with your visit from now on. You will have to settle in a little better. What was King Elgabal's apartment will now be yours. We can replace the frescoes on the walls... I see that you have finished eating, you must want to do a bit of washing. We will talk about all that again this evening. - I am indeed hardly cleaner than my toga. " answers the patrician having regained his natural good humor. "My baths are also made for that. Let's go downstairs. "The two men stand up, Marcellus embarrassed by his ill-placed toga. "Leave it here, prudishness is only the decorum of ugliness." The Roman hesitates for a moment, but crossing the Rubicon with a voluntary gesture, he raises his arms. The large piece of fabric collapses to the ground, leaving the body naked. On the ground floor, Euphorion shows Marcellus the entrance to the tepidarium. "You will only have to clap your hands, if you want someone to assist you."
The Roman enters the deserted room, the other guests having discreetly slipped away. He passes into the better-lit caldarium. "Luxurious." Marcus says to himself. As the Greek had estimated, finding himself in a more familiar environment, naked at the baths in the afternoon, the patrician relaxes completely, he finds his daily gestures again. Having splashed his body with hot water, he spends a moment into a sudatorium. Ready to call his slave to be massaged, his mouth closes with a little laugh. He shrugs his shoulders and claps his hands. Soon against the light stands out a stocky silhouette, Gordius. In a final burst of panic, the Roman leans against the wall. The Syrian continues to advance, while the patrician, mouth wide open, remains mute and trembling. Without touching him, Gordius places his lips on those of Marcellus. The patrician vigorously pushes the monoboles away and bursts out laughing. Gordius stands stunned, but Marcellus immediately throws himself on him, his mouth seeking his.
The two men embrace tightly. The Roman is intoxicated by the slave's scent, by the touch of his skin, tormented by the desire to possess this body. His hands massage the thick hairy buttocks. In the hollow of these he caresses the intimate areola for a long time, threshold of the coveted domain. The index finger already explores the moist heat. Perfectly docile, the Syrian turns around. The Roman's cock, rigidly ready, is inserted between the fleshy masses. He barely needs to force the passage. His head is swallowed by the eager ass, and the rest of the shaft sinks slowly without jolts.
Halfway through, he jumps. Someone has come to join their group, a hand reaches up to reveal the assembly. The silhouette of the newcomer then presents his back to Gordius, ready to complete the construction. The Syrian's pelvis's retreat pushes Marcellus' sword all the way to the hilt and makes the patrician understand that his partner has also taken up position facing the ass door and his loins immediately set in motion the formidable battering ram of the monoboles to smash it. With the taste of imitating a good student, the Roman grabs the hips with a firm grip and in turn works his master, slowly to better savor the embrace of this quivering ass that closes on his conquering dart. Soon in unison, Marcellus presses himself against the powerful torso and his hands caress the pectorals, swollen under their covering of hair, feeling the warmth of the other's back nearby. A change in the rhythm of Gordius's hip swaying pulls Marcellus out of his ecstasy, his hand goes down to the belly. The Syrian's magnificent dick stands free against the knotted abdominals, hard as can be. His fingers slide back the skin of the foreskin, then close over the fleshy head, carefully polishing the firm curves.
A hand coming to caress his buttocks informs Marcellus of the position of the third thief. A finger soon delicately caresses the warmest region of his anatomy. It gently penetrates the rosette, rummages a little in the entrails, the passage becomes more supple. The finger slips away and almost immediately a harder thing presents itself at the threshold of his ass. Continuing with one hand to masturbate Gordius, he brings the other towards this new object of pleasure. From a luxuriously furnished bush stands out a prodigious lance, ending in a circumcised glans. His fingers caress the strangely hardened flesh, slides through the net on the shaft without encountering the folds of the foreskin. As tolerant in matters of religion as the Emperor Mark, he does not understand this sacrificial custom. But there was no point in philosophy when faced with such an instrument. Arching his back, he himself slipped the circumcised cock between his buttocks. It was a little painful, but the Jew knew how to do it so well that his ass was soon hot and he had a powerful desire in the hollow of his back. However, he could not hold back a cry of pain when, with a sudden movement, the cock was forcefully inserted deep into his entrails. Squeezed between the two bodies, Marcellus delighted in the virile odor that emanated from the sweat-covered skin of his lovers.
He lets David settle into his ass, and continues to work furiously on Gordius, plowing him with all his strength, triggering increasingly loud moans. Firmly planted on their thighs, their loins hollow out to better file the other's ass. In the heat of the caldarium, sweat trickles down their bodies in large drops. Their breaths relax, one moan overtakes the other. David and Marcellus spit their cum in large powerful jets into their burning caves. His hand still tight around Gordius' quivering cock, Marcellus feels the flow of cum rise along the lance before gushing out impetuously. His hand is flooded with hot cream. Marcellus lets out a long sigh of ecstasy, tinged with regret for such a quick outcome. But he is wrong. Without a break, Gordius places himself behind David, the screwing resumes. After a while the partners change position again, the Syrian gives his buttocks to the Jew, while the Roman receives his dart. And the round continues, in an increasingly demonic cadence.
