Metrono returned often with his friend. Brighit did not see him at
first, nor did she try to catch a glimpse. She understood the need for
privacy, so she waited patiently until Attilio called her.
Sometimes, he stayed after his friend left, other times he came to her
place before she closed the shop, to remain the entire night. During
those heated passionate hours, their bodies tangled in deliciously
sensual embraces, they needed no words. Brighit felt the physical
desire as if the heat wave had replaced the Moon’s bloody cycle.
Surprised that the two could co-exist at the same time, she could not
help but crave his lean body with a growing intensity that sometimes
frightened her. She never seemed to have enough of tasting, biting,
nibbling, licking or touching his hard muscles. Whether inside her
mouth, her pussy or her ass, Brighit’s body always wanted more until he
literally exploded in her senses, leaving her breathless and completely
Women had rarely made Brighit feel this way…at least physically. True,
it was a totally different type of relationship that privileged other
priorities. Brighit bonded deeply with her women lovers, sharing less
passionate sex perhaps, but more love. Often, Brighit did not have the
perception of where the other woman ended and where she began, the
delicious confusion breaching all distance.
With Attilio, the sharp distinction was both physical and spiritual.
Their bonding was mostly at a sexual level, which was fine with
Brighit. She liked him intensely, her body in flames just by his mere
presence, but she did not feel like opening her mind to him. She hardly
knew him, yet did not feel inclined to ask questions…not many anyway.
She knew he was a Roman centurion who had probably taken part in many
battles, killing many lives along the way. She sighed at the thought of
the violence humans seemed to be so fond of, war an inevitable aspect
of their culture. On Tirynanyog, before Saarek’s intervention, no one
knew violence. Regrettably, at present random killings seemed an
everyday occurrence just as it happened on Earth.
Apparently, Attilio’s world required violence and he was a man of his
times. So, she accepted it. Luckily, he was also a learned man who
wanted to know about other cultures. Highly appreciative of the Celts,
he had studied them, learning their language to perfection, using it in
his everyday dealings with the inhabitants. For this effort alone,
people liked and respected him.
Brighit wondered if he had a wife somewhere, perhaps waiting for him in
Rome or Greece, but did not really care. If anything, Gaurav’s lesson
had taught her to live the moment to the fullest, since there was no
guarantee it would last. That everything will eventually end is the
only certainty in human life, she thought, watching a piece of metal
melt inside the hot furnace.
Startled, she looked up. Attilio stood at the door.
“Flamma,” he repeated.
“Yes?” She had heard him come in with his friend and had felt certain
she would not see him for hours. Whoever the other man was, they shared
a passionate sexual relationship, their meetings lasting sometimes the
“He wants to meet you,” Attilio said, holding out his hand to her.
“Me? Are you sure?”
Brighit took the metal out of the fire before it liquefied, then
hurried to him. Her heart beat violently as they went up the steps to
her room and that same pounding heart almost fell to her stomach when
Attilio opened the door.
The other man was darker, a mass of black hair framing a very masculine
face. He had a powerful body, with muscles rippling under the surface,
but what most attracted Brighit’s attention, were his black eyes. For a
moment, she thought Gaurav had finally returned from the dead, so
closely that expression reminded her of her deceased Indian lover.
Severely tempted to ask a stupid question, Brighit almost opened her
mouth, then changed her mind. Something had flickered in his eyes as
well, she was sure of it, but whatever it was, he suppressed it.
Brighit shook her head. Maybe, it was just a trick of the light or her
tired mind playing smoky illusions.
Attilio’s deep voice broke through her mists. “Aurelius, this is
Brighit.” Then, he turned to the fiery woman, “Flamma, this is Aurelius
“Nice to meet you,” Brighit mumbled. It seemed clear that Aurelius was
not very happy with the interruption to his favorite game, his
expression clearly indicating annoyance. “Well, I have to finish up,
so—“ She turned to the door, hoping for a quick escape.
“Wait,” Attilio stopped her. “I didn’t mean for you to leave so fast.”
He turned to Aurelius. “Right, pullus?” he asked, using the
affectionate nickname that referred to his dark features.
Brighit saw his discomfort increase. “Look, I understand if your friend
doesn’t want to meet me. I’m fine with that, Attilio, really.” Again,
she turned to the door.
“No, wait.” This time the darker man had spoken.
Brighit turned around slowly.
“I’m sorry, Brighit, I’m really not comfortable with women. They make me nervous and I’ve never liked them. But Attilio said—“
“I wanted him to meet you, flamma,” the centurion cut in, his blue eyes sparkling, “so that…maybe…we could play together.”
Silence fell in the room. The idea sent chills down Brighit’s back. One
look at Aurelius, though, did not confirm her excitement.
“Pullus is just scared,” Attilio assured, getting closer to his lover,
“but he’s just as intrigued.” A brief touch and Brighit saw the hard
shape underneath the clothes. “Aren’t you, pullus?” Attilio deepened
“Hem…why don’t you get started?” Brighit said lightly. “I have to wash
up anyway and change,” she continued, looking at her dirty work clothes.
“All right, flamma,” Attilio was already bending on his knees, his hands pulling away Aurelius’s clothes.
Brighit left the room and went downstairs to wash. From the well, she
poured cold water on her face, then down her body. She shivered,
feeling the tingling sensation, while her skin still burned from the
heat Attilio had caused with just one word. In fact, it was odd that a
single man held the power to excite her senses like no one before him,
even without touching her. The scenario he had depicted was incredibly
exciting…if only Aurelius chose to cooperate.
Finally ready, she returned upstairs and opened the door carefully.
Attilio had moved to the bed. Sprawled on his back, he occupied the
entire space. Aurelius bent on him, mouth closed around the hard shaft,
head sliding fast up and down helped by the hands’ movement.
When Attilio saw Brighit, the blue eyes smiled and he reached out his
hand, inviting her to join. She went to him, grabbing his hand. He
pulled her close, his mouth eagerly searching for hers and they were
soon lost in their kiss. Tongues clashed, battling for control in an
effort to overcome the other.
“Now, flamma,” he whispered when he managed to pull away, “why don’t you get better acquainted with Aurelius?”
She understood what he meant. Leaving his side, she circled the bed,
then knelt beneath Aurelius. His cock was thick and stocky, an
impressive size particularly in diameter. With a little effort, she
surrounded it with her mouth, her tongue clashing against the invasion.
Aurelius seemed to enjoy it, though he did not move away from his primary object, Attilio’s cock.
Almost choking, Brighit swallowed the thick head, its point reaching
deep. She pulled back her head, then pushed forward again in a
continuing movement, accommodating his great size with every thrust.
“Pullus, give her to me.” Attilio’s voice broke through their game.
Aurelius grabbed Brighit’s shoulders and raised her effortlessly,
placing her over Attilio’s straight bulging head. The centurion stopped
“Pullus, you really have forgotten about women,” he teased softly, his
fingers brushing gently between Brighit’s legs and gliding on her wet
silky flesh. He traced the edges of the warm opening, feeling her body
shiver under a wave of pleasure. His hand traveled back up, finding the
hard knot. Brighit moaned and pushed down to get closer to him.
With a grin, Attilio nodded to Aurelius. “Now, pullus,” he commanded.
Pulling her down, Aurelius held Attilio’s cock steady, so that she slid
onto him without efforts. The moment Brighit trapped Attilio inside her
was always the sweetest. She felt so much power at having the male at
her complete mercy that a satisfied sigh escaped her lips.
He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down on him, his mouth looking
for hers. She opened wide and let him have it all, swaying against his
crotch, her ass tantalizing in front of Aurelius’s hungry gaze. Attilio
teased him further by holding Brighit down against his chest, enlarging
the tight hole, while his fingers slipped inside, then out, coaxing the
tight space to open up further.
Aurelius did not resist. Kneeling behind her, he pushed forcefully. Brighit tensed.
“Relax, flamma,” Aurelio whispered in her ear, “he doesn’t want to hurt you.”
“But he is,” she complained.
Attilio reached between their bodies, his fingers rubbing the enflamed
clit. “Just brush against me, flamma, and it won’t hurt anymore. I
Aurelius had stopped in the meantime. Brighit moved on Attilio,
pressing down on him and rubbing against his crotch. Flames burned from
the center upward while she moved faster, thrusting back. Aurelius
slipped further inside, coordinating his movements with Attilio. Their
steady rhythms jogged Brighit and she was completely lost in the
sensual delight of feeling two men inside, ravaging, possessing,
conquering every inch of space until she screamed her pleasure. They
both felt the tightening, then quick release followed by a new
contraction. Her waves were impossible to resist, so with an explosion,
they flooded her.
But Aurelius wanted more.