glistening, pert nipples shining in the noonday sun.
When I put my hands around the girl’s banded neck, she flinched, drawing in a sharp gasp of surprise at the first contact. I had approached her stealthily, and the blindfolded young woman didn’t know that a silent admirer stood watching her only inches away. I moved my hands up her neck to hold her face between my hands. Still holding her, I drew one finger across her small mouth, pressing back the fleshy lips. She opened her mouth obediently to accept my impertinent finger, suckling on it. The girl was well trained! I moved my finger in her hot little mouth, exploring the palpitating tongue, tracing the gums, the ridge of teeth, while she sucked and moved her restless tongue under and around my probing digit. Extracting my finger, I slid my hands over the collar and down her neck, to rest them on the girl’s oily shoulders.
Now I let my hands appreciate the subtle contours of that fine lustrous body, moving down and up the lines of her supple arms while her small hands clenched in mounting excitement. Clasping her shoulders, I flattened my palms and brought my hands together at the top of her girlish chest. Then I drew my hands down slowly over the faint ridge of her collarbone, sliding over the slick skin onto the soft rises of her young breasts, pressing the heels of my palms into those pliant swells, no more than slightly raised disks, whose exact centers were delineated by those impertinent nipples. The girl stiffened and held herself rigidly still as I pressed my palms into the yielding softness of her small pancake tits.
I brought my hands down slowly till my fingertips felt her pebbly hard nipples. I pressed my palms into the surrounding softness, moving them in tiny circles. The little slave curled her lower lip and bit down with a row of tiny white teeth, trying to stifle the whimper that managed to escape as I massaged her nipples. It didn’t take much of this till I had her moving her shoulders, squirming with the rising heat.
Excited by her growing arousal, I plucked gently at the stiffening buds, pinching the oily nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling the little nubbins as I tugged on the elastic flesh, pulling to stretch her nipples till she groaned under the sweet torture. I soon had those tips swollen with excitement, the aureoles expanded, tiny stems protruding saucily. The girl tried to arch back against the pillar, raising her bosom, begging silently to offer me even more, but I had other territory to explore. And so I left those pretty tits heaving raggedly, their excited tips throbbing and proudly erect. I moved on, sliding my palms along their shallow under-curves and down her slippery body, over the traces of her rib cage and beyond, down her taut belly. The slave girl sighed; a sigh of disappointment, or perhaps a sigh of relief. I couldn’t tell which.
Now my hungry hands glided along the tightly drawn skin of her belly, moving back and forth between the ridges of the jutting hipbones, delighting in the smooth feel of that satiny skin. My fingers were soon edging along the light haze of fuzz, darkened with oil, that started low on her belly and trailed down to form the thicket of moist curls spreading over her splayed underarch. Crouching down before her, I looked-but did not yet touch-the girl’s vulnerable pussy. Instead, I placed my hands on her hips, and slowly followed the flaring contours of her haunches over the cradle of her hips and down onto her tapering thighs. I traced along her straining thigh muscles. The tendons stood out, sculpting and shaping the sinewy contours. I followed the resulting plane that sloped into the silken flesh of her inner thigh. I ran my fingers up and down her inner thighs, edging always closer to the center of her arch. I saw the tautly drawn tendons twitch as I stroked her opened thighs.
A demanding surge of lust shot through me, and I got to my feet abruptly. Stepping close to the bound girl, only inches from her taut body, I pressed down along her belly with the heel of my hand and was soon palming the slave girl’s pubic mound, rubbing it gently at first, then more firmly fondling that fleshy Mount of Venus while the girl leaned back and let her jaw drop. A soft moan came from her open mouth.
I held the girl by her sex and closed my hand, cupping the arch of her pubic bone, curling my fingers up into the soft folds of flesh between her legs, squeezing the bulging lips of her vulva, feeling her incredible inner heat. My fingers felt along her protruding nether-lips, pressing in, the middle one slipping into the delicate folds to probe her slick depths and getting a shuddering moan of pleasure. As my finger slid wetly up all the way into her cunt, the girl groaned long and low from somewhere deep in her throat.
I watched her blindfolded face, saw the twinge of urgency crease her brow; saw her twitch, squirming helplessly, her hips moving sensually against the column. Arching back, she rolled her head from side to side as I jiggled my finger, now buried to the hilt in her slick little vagina. She strained back, raising her hips and grinding her hot sex against my palm while the tendons of her thighs grew rigid, the muscles tightening as she thrust upward. The erotic sight of the young girl burning with sexual heat sent my pulse racing, the fire of lust surging up in me, driving me to take her. To hell with the contest!
Tingling with excitement, I tore at my clothes, snatching off my tunic and loincloth, till I stood in nothing but my sandals, my turgid penis proudly upstanding up in bold salute to the naked woman writhing before me. Positioning myself right between her arched legs, I guided my straining penis to the edge of her gaping pussy and took her abruptly, lunging forward, driving up her wet, pulsating vagina in a single powerful thrust that caused the girl to stiffen and draw in a sharp hiss of breath through clenched teeth. I clamped her slick hips and, holding onto her with both hands, wiggled my loins while thrusting upward, burying my engorged prick up her cunt to the hilt The impaled slave threw back her head and let out a low shuddering moan of deep satisfaction.
The heavenly feel of the girl’s tight young pussy was exquisite. I fucked her with deep, full thrusts, speeding up till my hips were bucking with furious abandon, powering my prick into her with maddened lust, crazed to see the slave girl’s hot, twisting body thrashing about in erotic frenzy. She was making tiny little grunts now with each thrust of my loins, a crisp staccato that told me she was getting close to the edge. I held on, grimly determined to match my release to hers. I felt the tremendous upsurge of my climax, and rammed into her, holding myself in place, buried in her churning depths as she gasped and stiffened. She cried out in long, lingering moans as a tremor rippled through her thin frame, followed by a more definite shudder, deeper and more massive. I came in a thunderous explosion of pure pleasure while the slave girl shook and trembled in the throes of orgasmic delight, and then went limp, sagging in her bonds.
After the contest, the exhausted girls were released and allowed a few moments to rest and collect themselves, before being sent to the lake to wash off all traces of oil, and whatever other fluids might be decorating their bodies. They followed this routine with enthusiasm, racing down to the edge of the water, plunging in from the outcrop of rock, swimming and cavorting in the shallow lake, their close-cropped hair wetly plastered down, their hard young bodies glistening with a sheen of streaming water as they climbed out onto the rocks. To see the bevy of nude beauties shrieking and frolicking in the lake like spirited water nymphs was truly invigorating, and already my recovering manhood was raising its head in a definite renewal of interest. I don’t know who first started toward the inviting lake; suddenly the handful of naked male guests were running pell-mell in a mad rush to join the girls. Soon we were joyfully splashing and swimming among them, making mock attacks and being attacked in turn as small feminine hands found our vulnerable parts, exciting us with slithering underwater caresses.
Over the next several months, I got to know Gratius quite well. I became a regular guest at his frequent orgies. He was a man who partook fully of the joys of life, wallowing in lust and indulging his unflagging passion shamelessly. I have observed that every man has some secret obsession, some particularly perverse whim, that were he able to freely indulge, would send him to unimagined heights of the sheerest ecstasy. Gratius was no exception.
Almost twenty years older than I was, he had a wealth of experience in a lifetime devoted to the decadent pursuit of pleasure. But even though he may be slightly jaded in the ways of the flesh, Gratius still found youthful delight in one aspect of the feminine anatomy. He was totally smitten by the well-made female posterior! Gratius was a man who absolutely adored a shapely bottom, and he maintained that there were few pleasures greater than that derived from merrily spanking a choice, well-placed rear end. Enthusiast that he was, he had raised spanking to an art form. It was a sport I had tried once or twice in Rome, but never fully appreciated till I learned the finer points at the hands of Gratius of Bernesium.
I had seen him take the occasional playful swat at the tail of a passing slave girl as she was sent scampering to do his bidding. And of course I had noticed that he was happily engaged in spanking the little slave who had positioned herself over his lap during the battle of the well-oiled “gladiators.” But on that occasion I had been much too preoccupied myself to pay a great deal of attention to my host. It was not really until one day in the baths when I saw the maniacal gleam in his eye as he walloped a bouncing bottom, that I realized the intense pleasure the act of spanking gave him.
Among the many Roman customs Gratius had transplanted to his provincial villa were the pleasures of the bath. A true Roman, he believed strongly in cleanliness, insisting that his girls bathe daily. And of course he liked to join them. On one occasion, we sat in the warm languorous air, naked, being attended to by a handful of female
