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(It's a love story -- right?)
On the morning of the day she is to meet with Marcus, Marcella rises early and goes to the public baths to wash herself thoroughly. Returning home after running errands for her mother, she combs out her hair and arranges it as she wore it on the day she met Marcus. She selects her finest tunic and applies her favorite perfume (not too much!). Then, after making a quick excuse for her absence to her mother, she leaves for the forum, arriving a little before the eighth hour (2:00 PM). She looks around at the place by the Temple of Venus where she and Marcus had “met”. Marcella grins at how well she had engineered their meeting. Such a clever girl you are, she thinks proudly to herself. Poor boy – he never suspected a thing until I landed in his arms! What a gift I must have seemed to him. Well, he has no idea how lucky he is, she chuckles to herself.
Though not especially vain, Marcella well knows she is blessed by nature with a beautiful face and a tall, sensuous figure. And, oh yes, she admits to herself, a great pair of tits too! She was well-developed at 14 and knows quite well how a pair of swelling boobs can turn a man’s head. Though tits can first attract attention, she knows it is what she has between her legs that will hold a man. Marcella is more than ready to lose her virginity, but first certain promises must be made. She knows what she wants from Marcus: she wants to be his wife. Not a lover, or a mistress, or a fling. She is ready to be a fully devoted wife to a good man. To love him unreservedly and keep him bonded to her by ensuring he always has as much sex as he desires. And to have his children. She and Marcus would have beautiful children. She would give him sons and daughters he would be proud of. All the suitors her parents came up with never filled her with such a desire.
No, it is only Marcus – the very man of her dreams – who she wants to make passionate love to her. As a virgin, though, she is utterly unpracticed in such activities between a man and a woman. What will it feel like to have Marcus’s erect cock inside her cunnus, thrusting in and out? Will it hurt? She had heard that at first it may, and she’ll bleed from it, but she knows from hearing her mother’s pleasurable groans late at night that it must feel wonderful! She knows what pleasure she gives herself with her fingers. She’s even used an improvised dildo to bring on her climax. Will Marcus make her feel as good with his cock? She fervently hopes so! And she knows it is common practice between lovers for a woman to take a man’s cock in her mouth, and for a man to lick and probe a woman’s cunnus with his tongue. Oh, it all sounds so wonderful, so wonderfully intimate! She can’t wait to do it all with Marcus!
Oh, dear, she wonders. What if Marcus has a small one? Will it matter? In her fantasies the man making love to her has an erect cock, but what is considered an acceptable size? She’s a virgin and has no real reference. Oh, she’s seen the mosaics of Dionysus and Pan comically walking around with obviously outsized erections, and other graffiti showing men and women fucking, but what does a real man have when he’s aroused? Then she remembers, she does have a reference of sorts. When she was looking for Barbara, thinking she was crucified after the rebel uprising had been put down, she noticed that many of the crucified men had erections as they hanged naked on their crosses. How was that possible? What pleasure could they be having with nails hammered through their bodies. Was it the presence of the naked women crucified with them? How can such agony cause erections? Did it have something to do with how her nipples get hard when she’s chilled? She’s not aroused, yet tumescent. But the day was stifling hot when the rebels were crucified. Marcella has to admit that there are many things she doesn’t understand.
Marcella shudders recalling the disgusting memory of those wretched people crucified by the Romans. Think of something else, she tells herself. Ah, yes! I’ll think about Marcus naked! Marcus is far too manly to have a small cock. He will have a magnificent cock, she assures herself, giggling a bit at the thought.
With her mind fixed on her beloved, Marcella’s heart beats rapidly thinking about being in his arms, feeling his hands on her body, caressing and touching her. She grows a little light-headed at the thought. When she’s with him today, how far will she let him go? This is a public space. She could hardly be seen behaving like a whore. They’d have to be careful, find a private space, where they could, could – oh my, Marcella feels heat rising in her face and a warming sensation in her crotch as waves of pent-up sexual energy course through her. The warmth between her legs is closely followed by a growing wetness. She reflexively tenses and squeezes her thighs together to intensify the pleasurable sensations. Her nipples have grown tumescent and are pushing against the fabric of her tunic quite visibly. She’s pacing nervously. Can people on the temple plaza see how eroticized she is at this moment? She tries to cover her pokey nipples with her arms and stands close to the temple wall, in the shadows, turning away. She’s close to visibly trembling with the anticipation of seeing Marcus again. She must appear like a bitch in heat! How humiliating! Calm down, she tells herself. Breathe slowly. She stays in the shade of the wall, slowly pacing and getting her emotions under control.
It’s the eighth hour, a bit after even, judging by a nearby sundial. Where was he? She was here early, why can’t he be? Shouldn’t he be at least as anxious to see her as she is to see him? Her pride is slightly hurt by his absence. So she waits. And waits. Several times she walks to the fountain where they talked, then back to the temple.
It is now nearly the ninth hour. Marcella begins to worry he isn’t going to appear. Had Marcus any intention of showing up? Was he just toying with her the other day? Well, she reasons, he is a soldier. He has important duties. How was he supposed to let her know if he couldn’t keep their appointment? Yet, Marcella fumes a bit. Well, why couldn’t he have sent word? Am I not worthy of such consideration? One of his comrades, or even a slave, to let her know why he was unable to be on time; or why he couldn’t be here as he promised. She feels awkward and ashamed, suddenly, and feels the heat of humiliation rising in her face. Maybe Thessela was right and she was just behaving like a silly lovesick girl. Dammit! He never intended to show up! Marcella grows angry and is about to leave. She’d been made to look a fool! Why did he do this to her? Why, Marcus? Why? Tears begin to well up in her eyes. She wipes them away with the back of her hand as they suddenly cascade down her cheeks. Then she hears his voice.
“Marcella. You’re here. Good. I was afraid you might have left.” Her head whips around. Marcus is standing by the spot near the wall where she’d first seen him two days ago. He starts walking towards her saying “My apologies for being late. I was detained by . . . “
But Marcus never gets the next word out. Marcella runs up to him. They embrace and kiss passionately. “Oh Marcus, Marcus, I’ve done nothing but think of you since the other day,” she whispers breathlessly in his ear.
“I’ve thought of no one but you either, my darling,” he replies. “But you are crying,” he observes, noting her wet cheeks. “Why?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she says. “Just me being a silly girl.”
They embrace each other. Marcella rests her head against his chest. She looks up at him as he looks down at her. He has blue eyes, she notices. Such beautiful blue eyes! Why hadn’t I noticed that before? Marcus lowers his head to kiss her again. Marcella’s heart pounds in her chest, her passion escalating. Marcus’s arms are pulling her close – one across her upper back, one down low, just above the curve of her ass. Her arms are around his neck. A classic lover’s embrace. Her heaving breasts are crushed against his chest. Then his hand on her lower back begins roaming. His strong hand caresses her ass, squeezing and caressing each cheek firmly. Yikes! Now his hand has slipped between her ass cheeks, pulling her pelvis even closer to him. The sudden intimacy startles her. What should she do? She keeps kissing him. His tongue is exploring her mouth. She responds, at first tentatively, then with as much urgency as he. She’s a quick learner, she thinks of herself, in the art of kissing.
With their mouths locked Marcus’s hand travels up the side of her body, feeling for the outside of her breast. Marcella breathlessly pulls away from Marcus’s embrace and turns around, giving him full access to both heaving breasts.
He runs his hand over her soft, heaving mounds, cupping and caressing the soft flesh, but never probing too much, never exceeding her boundaries – which, quite frankly, have been somewhat violated -- but this is Marcus, and he is given far more liberty than would have ever been given any other man she could think of! She feels safe with Marcus – and loved. He rubs and twists her tumescent nipples through the thin fabric of her tunic. It sends ripples of intense pleasure through her body. Far greater than anything she ever felt with her own fingers doing the fondling! She feels weak in the knees, her legs rubbery.
If Marcus was not holding her in such a tight embrace, she would surely drop to her knees!
Marcella feels Marcus’s hand beginning to slip inside her tunic. He wants to feel her naked breast! No, she’s not ready for that. It’s too soon. She puts her hand on his and gently pulls it away from getting inside her tunic. “Marcus, please, not inside,” she whispers breathlessly. She takes his hand and places it back over her covered breast. “Here, for now, okay?” She looks up at him. Then his hand drops to her thigh and tries to pull up her tunic. Her thigh is exposed! Nearly to her crotch! “No, Marcus dear, not that either,” she says with a giggle, but rather insistent. He lets her tunic drop back down covering her leg. He’s testing my limits, she realizes. She was afraid he’d insist. Then what? But he doesn’t. What a perfect gentleman, Marcella thinks. So respectful of my wishes! But how far would this go if she did not protest?
Then Marcella suddenly becomes aware of Marcus’s bulging erection through his tunic, pressing between the tops of her ass cheeks. She’s thrilled by it. The first time she has ever felt such a sensation. Marcella is incredibly excited knowing her body, her presence, has brought on this reaction. This proves he finds her desirable! Surely a man cannot fake an erection. If they weren’t in a somewhat secluded public place, Marcella fears she would totally give herself to him. She wants to, so badly, but she reminds herself that she needs a marriage proposal and a promise from him first. She’s hooked her big fish, but must haul him in before anything else! This may take some time, but hopefully not too long.
She turns back around again, pressing her breasts again into his chest and holding him close with both arms around his back. Now she feels his erection pushing into her belly, below her navel. Oh, how she wishes they could both be naked now! Marcella reaches down and feels his bulging erection. Another first for her! She desperately wants to work her hand inside his clothing, to feel his hardness. But she’s already kept his hands from roaming too far, so she remains content to feel him this way. She moans, her physical desires almost overwhelming her cautious mind.
They remain in the shadow of the temple wall, away from direct public view, locked in their embrace. All the while, Marcella never notices the figure of a woman watching them from a safe distance.
Suddenly, hearing other voices, she’s aware of their public location. Other people are approaching. “Marcus, please,” she whispers in his ear, “is there someplace we can go that’s more private?”
“Yes, of course, the gardens behind the temple. It’s more private there.”
It is more private, and secluded, with benches arranged off a trail winding through lush garden landscaping. They sit on a bench placed in an alcove set into the garden wall and partially hidden by some of the garden’s luxurious foliage. There they embrace, kiss, caress, talk and laugh until Marcus announces he must take his leave. Duty requirements, he says. They embrace one final time and arrange another meeting. Here, in the garden, next time. Far more private. Marcus escorts Marcella out of the close confines of the garden and back into the wide-open spaces of the public forum, there to take his leave after a final embrace. She’s never felt so alive, so desired. Feeling deliriously happy, she departs for home.
Marcus and Marcella meet several more times over the coming days, whenever Marcus can get away from his duties. As always, they were being discretely observed. Marcella was never aware of this, nor was she aware that the observations of her liaisons with Marcus were being reported. Had she known she might have had cause to be worried – even afraid. For the person to whom the liaisons were reported was none other than Livia Urgulanilla, the daughter of the Roman governor Gaius Aquillius Gallus.