“Hey, Pullus,” Attilio interrupted, “you’re in luck. The puppy hasn’t been broken in yet.”
“Master.” The blond man squirmed uncomfortably, darting glances at
Aurelius, too. “I want to serve,” he continued in Latin, “but I can
only do some things—“
Attilio raised his hand to silence him. He had learned enough from the
slave, who was only a minor player. It was time to focus attention on
the real object of the game. “Pullus, the puppy seems afraid.” His eyes
challenged Aurelius to prove him wrong. “I’m very curious to see if
your skills will prove to be adequate.”
Aurelius’s eyes flashed as if suddenly understanding the game’s real
purpose. His hand fondled the slave’s crotch, exposing the limp cock.
“As a matter of fact, he doesn’t seem interested,” he commented, his
hand sliding on the soft skin.
“But I’m sure you’ll get his cooperation, right Pullus?”
Exchanging another glance, Attilio made sure Aurelius understood his
request and for all response, watched him bend his knees, lips already
open to swallow its juicy prey. As the hungry mouth worked its magic on
Ewan, the centurion saw the cock grow bigger by the second. Obviously
liking it, the slave arched his back, leaning against Attilio for
support, his ass moving as he pushed more cock into Aurelius’s willing
opening. Seeing his opportunity, the centurion nudged his shaft against
the slave’s butt, making him feel the bulge, but not moving to let him
get used to it. Keeping still, he continued watching Aurelius’s expert
sucking—head bobbing up and down, tongue darting on the rigid stem now
turned into stone—that, together with the erotic gulping sounds, were
enough to keep Attilio’s interest raised. Caught in this magic, the
Aryan indicated just how much he enjoyed the new game by rubbing his
ass more forcefully on Attilio’s throbbing hardness.
“Well done, Pullus,” the centurion approved. “I think he’s ready now.”
He pushed Ewan’s back forward to make his ass more available.
Grabbing the slave’s head, Aurelius went down on his back, carrying
Ewan with him and aiming his mouth over his own erection. Moving his
clothes aside, Aurelius pushed the slave on the upraised bursting head,
forcing him to get on all fours.
Attilio quickly followed, his fingers already seeking the tight hole
between the buttocks, wetting its edges once found. Circling the narrow
opening, he waited until Ewan thrust back before aiming his thick shaft
and pushing inside.
It was not easy to secure the entry he wanted, especially since Ewan
stopped moving altogether. Feeling his tenseness, Attilio bent on his
ear. “Relax, puppy,” he breathed seductively, in Celtic. “I don’t want
to hurt you.”
Unable to talk because Aurelius kept his mouth occupied, Ewan emitted a
muffled sound. To help him, Attilio’s hand tried to reach the young
man’s cock, but Aurelius beat him to it. A few well made slides and
Attilio felt Ewan relax, opening wider to his solicitation. And with
every push, the flesh became more pliant, giving in to the pressure and
enlarging to fit more of its marble-like guest until the centurion felt
Ewan’s pain had disappeared, replaced by fiery pleasure alone. Without
wasting more time, Attilio plunged inside, pumping the delicious
tightness with an increasing rhythm that soon ended in total bliss.
* * * *
After that night, Aurelius could not hide his feelings any more. Seeing
Attilio’s powerful body pump the hard cock in the slave’s ass had
unleashed a burning wave of desire that almost choked him. Yet, Attilio
had not chosen him for his sexual pleasure, using only the slave and
making sure there was no physical contact between them.
Disappointed, Aurelius had gone along with the game, even humoring
Attilio by taking the slave himself, making him lie down, legs raised,
butt hole exposed and filled with his throbbing rigidity. Yet, the real
excitement had been Attilio’s brilliant blue gaze watching his every
move as if judging him somehow. Am I worthy? Have I passed the test?
Aurelius tormented his soul, afraid of the answer, especially now that
he knew he wanted Attilio like no one before him and not for a
one-night stand. The fair centurion was his destiny, just like he had
always hoped and feared. That was why his senses required more, much
more. But I doubt he’s willing to go that far. This uncertainty vexed
him. If he had thought of joining the army simply to be next to
Attilio, now the prospect seemed pure torture. Torn between desire and
anguish, he stopped seeing Attilio altogether, carefully avoiding
Alexandria’s square and tavern. He missed their brilliant
conversations, the wars in faraway places, the sparkling blue gaze
mocking him at every turn. Viciously suppressing the tempting memories,
he resisted, though his efforts could not make Attilio magically vanish.