existence lies – and that intuitive alarm was strongest upon the persons of the Greek and Bullpole to my bewilderment, considering the power each wielded most ruthlessly.
Upon reaching the apartments reserved for them, Bullpole turned to Ignacio. “In the interest of privacy, I decided to leave my personal bodyguards in Spain. I brought you along to serve in precisely that capacity since you are known to be loyal, alert and physically strong. I shall depend upon you to be fully responsible for my safety – particularly when I'm asleep.”
Ignacio bowed. “Yes, sire.”
“I trust not our host. Nor should you. We are Spaniards far from our native ground and in an alien place where anything might happen.”
“I'll remember that every moment, sire.”
“See that you do.” Bullpole entered his chamber, the door closing behind him with a solid click. Ignacio stood a moment with a thoughtful expression, then he, too, went into his chamber.
The room was luxuriously furnished in the same exotic styling as the rest of the palace. In its center was a low wide sleeping-couch, the table beside it containing a platter upon which a variety of cheeses, olives, slabs of crusty bread and an assortment of fruits were heaped.
A girl with long black, glossy hair and huge dark eyes lay upon the couch, her nakedness a satiny swelling and curving of white flesh from the gentle lines of her shoulders and generously moulded breasts to her well- shaped legs and tiny feet. She gazed up at Ignacio with an expression of submission.
“Well, the Greek wasn't jesting,” remarked Ignacio, sitting on the edge of the couch and smiling at the girl. “Everything for a guest's comfort and pleasure. I'm coming up in the world when my room is supplied with beauty such as yours.”
She sighed, tremblingly.
“Have you no tongue?” His hand touched her soft warm flesh, began caressing her rounded belly just above the crisp thicket of pubic hair. “Have you no words of greeting for a guest?”
She murmured something in Greek, the sound of the foreign words a whispery gibberish to Ignacio's ears. Her tone clearly implied her resignation and hopelessness as did the sad expression in her huge, widely spaced eyes.
“Ah, well,” murmured Ignacio, undressing. “We shall not allow language to be a barrier when we can breach it with the oldest communication known to man and woman, pretty one!”
She studied his exposed penis – erect with the excitement that her nudity created within him – with nervous interest. Her nostrils flared with reaction to the sight of the long upright shaft of rigid muscle tipped by the reddish-blue plum that pulsed slightly with the tension Ignacio felt. A tremor of quivering went over the girl's entire body when he rolled over, lying beside her and feeling her warmth and firm softness touching his own muscular frame. She gasped, moaning throatily when his hands fondled her breasts, toying the large nipples into tautness. She twitched and groaned when his fingers sought her pubic mound, caressing the tender lips of her crevice, parting them and exploring their depths until her juices flowed copiously – indicating her sexual readiness.
For a short while Ignacio lay upon her belly, idly sucking at her melon-ish breasts and pressing his stiffened member up and down, inserting it between the moistened lips of her slit and letting the lust simmer in his balls that now ached with bursting need for release. She cried out as he shifted position – shoving his hardened penis into her yielding hole, the head sinking into its warm wetness. Grunting, he thrust the entire length of his column deeply within her tight pit and she wrapped her legs about his waist, panting as he began steadily ramming his throbbing stiffness in and almost out of her cunt. Saliva dribbled from a corner of her mouth, her eyes glazed with enjoyment and she grunted softly with each inward thrust of his penis – and thus they fucked in a quiet, straining rhythm until, abruptly, the wildness of orgasm was upon them and they launched themselves into a noisy frenzy of motion, erratically moving with abandon and savage intensity – the girl clawing and biting at him – until the climax had been reached and the spasms juicily exhausted them both.
They fell asleep, still entangled in each others' arms and legs, in the position of copulation.
CHAPTER IX
Three days later, the first light of morning was fading the night sky when Ignacio was rudely awakened by a husky young man his own age who wore the trappings and insignia of the Greek's personal guards. Harshly shaking Ignacio's bare shoulder, the fellow grinned down as Ignacio groggily opened his eyes and peered sleepily up at the stranger.
“Arise!” said the man. “I'm sent to awaken you! It's time to leave for the sea-caves!”
Ignacio sat up, yawning and rubbing his face. During the past three days and nights, while waiting for the Greek to announce their departure to the sea-caves, he had glutted himself unstintingly with rich foods, wines and a number of passionate young wenches – all of whom, like the newest girl still gently snoring beside him, had helped considerably to pass the time.
“Who – who are you?” Ignacio asked thickly.
“Socrates Uthimus – most trusted of my master's personal guards. I'm to accompany you gentlemen on the trek to the sea-caves by order of my master.” He nodded at the naked girl whose tempting curves of flawless flesh graced the couch in unconscious wantonry. “By the blazing eyes of the gods, I hate to pull you from the comforting side of that little slut, but I'm ordered to collect you! I don't envy you having to interrupt dalliance with the pretty thing. Don't bear a grudge against me for being the one to summon you!”
“I won't,” mumbled Ignacio putting on his clothing. “Anyway, I'm getting weary of this room! It'll be good to travel and see someplace else.”
“You jest!” The cheerful grin on Socrates' face broadened. “How can anybody tire of such stimulating company? I cannot even imagine such -” He stopped talking, eyeing the sleeping girl hungrily.
“Go ahead – if we have the time,” offered Ignacio smiling at him. “You look as though you could use a quick tumble!”
“I – I could! I haven't had a woman in more than a week of heavy duty!” Socrates' face went dreamy with lust as he studied the vulnerable nudity of the girl. She stirred, turning onto her back and raising one leg, exposing the intimate beauty of her slitted mound nestled in the curly dark thatch of hair between her thighs. “If I thought you were serious and there would be no trouble, I'd -”
“I'm serious, friend.” Ignacio sat down at the table, began munching hungrily at the remains of meat, cheese and bread – washing the food down with wine from a tall, slender bottle. “Go ahead and have her! But don't take all morning unless you want to be caught in the delightful act by our superiors!”
With a last glance at Ignacio, Socrates swiftly divested himself of the lower garments of his attire, exposing a most ready and respectably large penis standing rigidly out from his hairy loins. Climbing onto the couch, he crept between the sleeping girl's thighs, lowering his body to her crotch and roughly probing for her cunt-hole as he guided his stiffened organ with one hand.
She opened her eyes just as the tip of his organ found the yielding entrance and went plunging into her moist warmth – vainly squirming in an effort to prevent what had already happened. Grunting angry protests, she struggled beneath him as he thrust the male member in and out with vigorous strokes and mumbling sounds of enjoyment – firmly holding her wrists with his hands while his undulating body ravished her private parts in a steady performance of sexual activity.
“You surely did need that attention,” observed Ignacio affably between mouthfuls of food and drink. “I can tell from the manner in which you energetically fuck the pretty thing that your need is considerable. Well, she's a tight little baggage and you should find her most satisfying – unless you're a great deal harder to please than myself!”
Now the girl had stopped struggling and lay still, her legs lifted high on either side of the thrusting, panting Socrates. She glared up at him with rage and contempt on her face. Once, she spat directly in his face but he was too intent upon his increasing pleasure to pay attention to the insult, simply driving faster and harder with savage enjoyment – and then groaning hoarsely as his juices burst into her with spasms that shook his muscular body until they subsided, leaving him slumped upon the girl with a blissful expression of complete satisfaction on his face.
