Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
“The Senator has been shown to your chamber, Mistress,” Felicity announced in her soft voice.
Roxanna ceased her pacing and smiled at the beautiful young slave. “Thank you, Felicity. Inform Ajax that I am not to be disturbed.” Felicity nodded obediently and withdrew from the study in silence. Roxanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was imperative that she appear calm, despite the anticipation that had haunted her every action throughout this day, which had stretched into what felt like an eternity. She walked down the corridor and through the peristyle at her normal, leisurely pace and did not hesitate when she reached the doors of her chamber.
He sat upon the edge of the bed with his arms crossed, looking perfectly at ease. Roxanna welcomed him with a warm smile, “Good evening, Caesar.”
He returned her smile, “Good evening, Roxanna.” His eyes traveled slowly down her body and just as slowly back up. She was dressed in the latest fashion, a close-fitting gown made of the famed Coan fabric. The material came from the East, carried by heavily guarded caravans to Egypt, where it was exported by sea. Rumor held that it was woven from webs of spiders that were fed on honey and wine. Caesar held little faith in such a rumor, but the cloth had an exquisite texture and was remarkably sheer. Roxanne’s gown was a pale yellow that made the matching flecks in her green eyes sparkle, though the translucence of the material made it difficult for him to focus on her eyes. “Now I understand why the censors have banned Coan cloth; we men would never get any work done if such gowns were allowed in public.”
Roxanna raised one brow, “If either of the censors’ wives were able to wear the cloth without looking like something freshly escaped from an Egyptian tomb, it would not have been banned.”
Caesar laughed. “You are well versed in our political system.”
“I know enough,” she responded. “Will you have some wine,” she asked, gesturing toward a small citrus wood table flanked by two finely carved chairs.
“Perhaps later,” he answered, rising to his feet and approaching her. “I am anxious to begin. Besides, you are quite capable of robbing me of my wits without the assistance of wine.”
“Your work as an advocate has made you a master of flattery; we can skip that lesson,” she teased. “Kiss me.”
He grasped her upper arms and pulled her to him, immediately tilting his head to access her lips.
Roxanna stepped back. “It is your nature to be direct, a rare and admirable trait in a politician. This, however, is not politics. What transpires between lovers in moments of intimacy is never political, no matter what power either, or both, parties may wield publicly. True passion cannot be ignited until both participants set aside all other motives. If you would be sure that your partner has set aside her motives, you must disarm her.
“Do not treat her as a slave to be used for your pleasure. Approach her as you would a goddess. Worship her with your eyes. Make her feel that she is the only woman in the world and that you cherish her above all things. You may lead her to the pathway, but never push her. She will let you know when she is ready to proceed. Now, try again.”
Caesar stepped forward, raising one hand to caress the side of her face, his eyes softly imploring hers for a moment and then moving up to her hair, which he stroked with his other hand. He turned the hand caressing her face and gently brushed his knuckles down its length, bringing them to rest beneath her chin. His eyes met hers again as he tipped her face up and leaned in, dropping his eyes to her lips as he tilted his head. He met her eyes once more as he moved closer still and finally brushed his lips against hers.
Roxanna stood perfectly still as Caesar kissed her upper lip and then her lower lip. He pulled away only enough to implore her again with his eyes. She raised her hands to his shoulders and parted her lips. He took a single small forward step, stroking the hand that still rested upon her hair downward to cup the back of her head as his lips pressed against hers more firmly. She kissed back, savoring his soft strokes upon her face and the gentle pressure of his lips.
The kiss was no less disarming for her having revealed the method to him. Caesar was making her ache for him and she ran her hands up the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she yielded her mouth to him, hungry to taste him. He obliged her, parting her lips with the tip of his tongue. She met it with her own and the kiss deepened as they explored each other’s mouths.
Roxanna dropped one hand from his neck, snaking it beneath his arm so she could rub it over his muscular back. This provided her the leverage she needed to pull the length of his body directly against hers.
With one hand still cupping her head, Caesar ran the other down her back, pressing her even more tightly against him.
Roxanna moaned, feeling his hardness against her. She knew if she allowed him beylikdüzü escort to continue, she would soon lose the capability to think rationally. Her extended self-imposed celibacy worked against her, as did the wonderfully strong mutual attraction between them. Her body was on the verge of mutiny when she stepped away, wrapping her empty arms around her body as she took a deep breath.
Caesar glared at her in frustration, “What did I do wrong this time?”
“Wrong?” Roxanna’s heart was pounding. “You did nothing wrong. That kiss was enough to make a Vestal forget her vow.”
“You resisted it easily enough!” Caesar’s desire morphed into anger.
Roxanna’s desire followed suit. “Easy, was it? Your thinking flies in the face of convention. Women are weak; we are slaves to our passions. Is this not what those learned Greek philosophers say of us? Charlatans! Men know nothing of the battles women fight within ourselves. You have no idea what it is like to try to try to outsmart your own body!” She turned away from him, her eyes searching for something, anything that might ease the turmoil inside her body. She focused on the pitcher of wine and stalked toward it.
She was halfway to the table when Caesar’s strong hand closed around her arm and spun her around to face him. “Why, Roxanna? Why do you fight this battle? What is the purpose?!” He released her arm and the anger seemed to drain out of him. His voice was soft when he continued, “We have set out upon a path that will inevitably lead to your bed.”
Roxanna sighed and laid a hand upon his cheek. “If I allow myself to fall victim to my desire I will lose my objectivity. You sought me out for my insight and my unique view of such situations- those are the foundations of my objectivity. I will not rob you of that.” She pulled her hand away and cleared her throat. “Forgive my outburst; anger goes hand in hand with passion and they are easily interchanged.”
Caesar took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Objectivity can as easily be lost in self denial, Roxanna. It is I who sought out this path and I am confident that you shall lead me to its destination, but this is not a forced march. We are free to take shortcuts and nothing will be lost if we double back.”
Roxanna squeezed his hand briefly and smiled up into his dark eyes, “Then let us continue.”
She took another deep breath and shook her head as if to clear it. “You kiss extremely well; that will lend itself nicely to the next task I have set for you,” her smile was wickedly suggestive. She walked past him and came to a stop beside her bed, reaching for the sash of her gown.
Caesar watched as Roxanna untied, unwrapped, shrugged and wiggled, reducing the act that every woman in his life had ritualized to the point that it required an inordinate amount of time and at least one servant, to a simple process taking less than a minute. The end result was the same as it had been the first time he had seen her perform it; her gown lay pooled at her feet.
She turned and beckoned him with a tilt of her head before lying on the bed. He needed no further prodding, though he stopped at the edge of the bed, feasting his eyes upon her body as he awaited her instruction.
Roxanna lay on her left side, her feminine curves most fetchingly showcased in profile. Her left arm was bent beneath her and she absently stroked the linen coverlet with the delicate knuckles of her left hand. A tendril of hair had fallen across her neck and she twisted its end with the fingers of her right hand as she studied the man standing above her. She waited until his eyes rested on hers before speaking. “Have you guessed the subject of this lesson, Caesar?”
“You wish to teach me the art of kissing the lips I have yet to taste,” his eyes ran to the fork of her thighs, lingering for a moment before he dragged them back up to her face. His desire was evident.
Her answer was spoken in the honey and incense voice that had haunted his mind since the last time he had heard it. “Yes, I do.”
Caesar began lowering himself to the bed, but she stopped him.
“Wait. Allow me to explain what is almost certainly about to happen; I want no further misunderstandings this night.”
He drew himself up to his full height, his look expectant but impatient. His breathing was already quickening. Roxanna’s eyes fell longingly to his stomach. It was obvious that he had foregone the subligaculum when he had dressed for this evening. The desire he had so easily kindled with his kiss now returned and gripped her in its full power.
Caesar was surprised at how quickly the honey left her voice tonight, how smoky it was as she began her explanation. “Unless I am mistaken, and I rarely make such mistakes, we are about to reverse our roles and I shall be at your mercy.”
Caesar unconsciously fisted his hands at her revelation. He was hungry to control her, to possess her, to own her.
Roxanna continued, “I have never beyoğlu escort been at the mercy of a man, not in this way. I have been three years without a lover and was comfortable in this choice- but you have awakened a longing in me such as I have never known. My body screams out for you even now, and its demands are soon to redouble. You will annihilate me, but I am a proud creature and will not be satisfied with a quick route; I would have the battle rage for as long as possible. First, I must prepare you for that battle. Undress.”
Caesar sat on the bed as he unfastened and removed his sandals, then he stood and pulled the tunic over his head, dropping it as soon as he was free of it. He made to join her on the bed, but she halted him again.
“No. Let me look at you first,” Roxanna whispered. He stood again, though his desire and impatience made it difficult not to fall upon her.
He had never removed his tunic during their first encounter and now Roxanna marveled at his body. She had already developed a deep appreciation of his strong arms and muscled legs, those parts revealed by his tunic. Now she saw those things that the tunic hid, the sculptured muscles of his broad shoulders, and the hint of muscle beneath the skin of his flat stomach, the thickness of his strong thighs. The ache inside her caused her to shift upon the bed. “Turn,” she purred, almost unaware that she had spoken at all. The broad shoulders tapered into his straight, strong back. His buttocks were those of a Greek statue, carved of pure muscle. He turned back to face her unbidden and she finally allowed herself to look at that part of him she most wanted to see. Her silence was broken by a long shuddering sigh and she pressed her thighs together in a thwarted attempt to relieve that ache inside of her, the ache he was so perfectly made to relieve. His length was impressive, but she had never seen a man of such length who possessed the thickness that would render his manhood truly amazing. Until now. He was rigid with desire, the swollen head unsheathed. Standing straight, it obscured his navel. Roxanna suddenly realized that, other than his thick mane of blonde hair and his brows, his body was completely free of hair.
She raised herself to a sitting position and moved to the center of the bed. Drawing herself to her knees, she raised her eyes to his. “Lay on your back.”
Caesar did as he was told, resting his head upon her cushions, never looking away from her.
Roxanna lifted his right leg, ducking underneath it. Caesar instinctively shifted on the bed, centering her between his spread legs. Roxanna ran her hands over the thick muscles of his thighs, her eyes focused unwaveringly upon her prize. She blinked and raised her eyes to his long enough to growl, “Gods, how I want you,” her words so slurred by desire that he barely understood them at all. She grasped the tops of his thighs and bent over him. He closed his eyes against the power of the sight.
Roxanna began with his full, smooth scrotum, running her tongue against it in long, slow strokes. She then kissed the swollen hardness of his testicles before slowly increasing the suction over one until she drew it gently into her mouth and rolled her tongue over it before releasing it and giving the same attention to its mate. She brought one hand to his sac and gently stroked, squeezed and rolled as she moved her mouth over the base of his throbbing member. Opening her mouth wide above it, she did not make contact, but moved up the length of his shaft, wrapping it in the warmth of her breath alone. She hovered over its head, alternating the warm, moist breath of her open mouth with puffs of cool air from puckered lips. Caesar moaned as she drew a constant dripping flow of thick, clear fluid from his engorged weapon without a single touch.
She returned to its root and employed her tongue, licking him from base to just below the sensitive tip before withdrawing and returning to his base to repeat the motion, working her way around his circumference, lifting his phallus away from his belly with her fingers in order to reach every surface. When she reached her starting point, she puckered her lips and blew cool air along its length before taking the weeping head into her mouth and sucking it gently.
Caesar groaned, pulling the coverlet into his tightly fisted hands. He opened his eyes and watched as Roxanna lowered her mouth over him. She stopped two inches short and lifted her head slowly, her tongue flicking the sensitive flesh now inside her mouth. She immediately lowered her mouth on him again and soon set a rhythm of slow torture. She took more of him in each descent until he met the resistance of her throat. The next time she descended, he felt her throat constrict against his head. She lifted her eyes to his; hers brimmed in the tears of her exertion, which served to magnify the desire in them.
Roxanna lifted her head completely off of him now to catch her breath and then focused her bomonti escort attention upon his sensitive head, sucking it and flicking its sensitive underside with her tongue before engulfing it in her mouth again and bobbing her head, combining the sensations of sucking, flicking and sliding in and out of her lips. Caesar entangled the fingers of his right hand in her hair, alternating between watching her suck him and closing his eyes to maintain control.
He was oblivious to his own long, low moan and its slow rise in volume, but when Roxanna moaned against his head, his eyes snapped open immediately. Her sound was trapped behind her lips, which were closed tightly against his member and it seemed that the sound itself danced against him. His control slipped away as his eyes clouded with pleasure. Just before she tipped him over the edge, his mind flashed in a warning that echoed two words she had spoken earlier, “No misunderstandings.”
He raised his head and panted, “Roxanna!”
She increased her pace, flicking her tongue relentlessly against the incredibly sensitive spot beneath the head. She met his eyes and the corners of her mouth curled into a smile around him. The sight hurled him into the abyss of ecstasy.
Roxanna spread her fingers on his thighs, bracing herself for the two inevitable actions she knew he would undertake the moment the remaining shreds of his cultured manner gave way to primal instinct.
Caesar grabbed the back of her head with both hands, pushing down as he thrust himself up and deeper into her mouth. Anyone who heard his cry unknowing its context would have believed it to be one of anguish.
Roxanna fed greedily upon his salty seed, swallowing it almost as fast as he delivered it. Not wishing to cause him pain, she ceased her ministrations upon him as he calmed, but she was not willing to release him from her mouth until she was certain he had given her every drop. Satisfied that he had, she rocked back up to her knees and smiled down at him, licking her lips.
She rose from the bed and sauntered to the table where she poured water into a cup. She sipped it as she walked to the bed, where she offered it to Caesar. He drained the cup and Roxanna took it back to the table. When she returned to the bed, his breathing was again normal and he lay with his hands entwined behind his head.
“You are mad, Roxanna,” he said, smiling most contentedly.
She sat beside him on the bed, returning his smile. “What makes you think I am mad?”
“You could be the richest woman in Rome,” he answered.
Roxanna shook her head and raised a brow at him, “How so?”
“You earned twenty-five talents from Crassus without laying a finger upon him. What do you think he would pay to have been in my place just now?”
Her smile turned wicked again, an expression he was quickly learning to appreciate, and she lay down beside him. She traced one finger down his chest before answering, “Not nearly as much as he would pay to inhabit the place you shall soon enter.”
Caesar’s eyes twinkled as he rolled to his side, pulling her body against his. “Tell me what to do.”
“Kiss me. Make me want you with the kiss and, when I do, blaze a trail of kisses down my body until I writhe and shudder in my desire for you. When I do so, run your tongue up and down between those lips you have yet to taste. Make me cry out for you. Focus your attention upon the key, suck it and lick it until I beg to have you inside of me. You can enter me with your tongue or your fingers, but keep the other upon that sacred spot. You may continue as long as you like- until I give you… other instructions.”
Her breath had become shallow as she had spoken and he could feel the hardness of her nipples against his chest. Caesar covered her mouth with his own and their tongues danced. She whimpered and pulled him closer but before he could begin his descent, she wrapped her leg around his and pressed herself against his thigh with a long, shuddering moan. “Wait,” she whispered. “I cannot… I am… ohh…”
Roxanna did not need to say anything further; Caesar understood perfectly. He closed his hand around her hip and pressed his thigh up closer between her legs, pulling her hip so she slid forward against him. Roxanna arched her back and bucked her hips, grinding her soaking wet pussy against his thigh as she came.
Caesar was rock-hard again. “Roxanna let me have you! Let me inside of you. Please.”
“No. Not yet,” she groaned. “Lick me, Caesar. Bury your face in my pussy. Do it now!”
Her tone would brook no argument and he obeyed, pushing her onto her back and pulling her legs apart as he positioned himself between them. Her cunt was pulsing, so wet that her juices pooled upon the coverlet. He did as she had instructed, running his tongue up and down the length of her slit. She bucked against him wildly and he could not resist pushing his tongue into her. Caesar pressed his face into her wetness, working his tongue as deeply inside of her as he could. When he came up for air, he licked his way back up to her clit and locked his mouth on it, sucking it.
“Inside me, inside me, inside me… NOW!” she demanded loudly and he pushed two fingers inside her as she came again, her cunt tightening around his fingers.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32