Attilio 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 exhausted.
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 entire afternoon.
“He wants to meet you,” Attilio said, holding out his hand to her.
“Me? Are you sure?”
He nodded.
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 Ladeo.”
“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 the touch.
“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 Brighit’s descent.
“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 promise.”
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.