Breaking in the puppy

“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.