Ashley fell to her knees and lifted the long peg of flesh. She gazed at it carefully, as if deciding just what she was going to do. Then, holding it gently by its head, she licked it first up one side, and then back down the other. "Ummm," she murmured. "You taste of leather, Max." She took his penis into her mouth and began to suck on him. The long fingers of his big hand dug into her scalp, and he kneaded her head as she sucked at first with deep, strong pulls of her mouth. She stopped suddenly, and her tongue began to encircle the sensitive head of his organ. Then she nipped at it delicately with her teeth.

He growled. "Easy, my goddess," he warned her.

She began to suck him again. He grew thick and hard in her warm mouth, and he lengthened so that the tip of his penis was pushing just down her throat. She moaned, thinking how she loved the taste of him. Her hands slipped around him to fondle his tight buttocks. Her fingers dug into his flesh. She raised her eyes slightly to him, silently asking what he would have of her. Wordlessly he gave the command, and Ashley sucked harder and harder upon his cock until she felt him quiver, and then his sperm burst forth. She almost choked as she swallowed it down, so copious was the flow, but she continued to draw every last drop from him until he bade her cease.

"Jupiter and Mars, Cordelia, no one can suck me off like you can!" the tribune praised his wife. "Do you suck the slave?"

"My lord!" She was indignant. "That you could even ask me such a thing."

"You're a beautiful liar," he told her, laughing as he pulled her up into his arms. "You have an appetite for sex, which is why I bought the fellow for you. I'm glad he isn't boring you." He led her over to her large bed. "Now," he said as they lay down together, "you have been a very good girl, and should be rewarded appropriately. I have a taste for your juicy cunt, Cordelia. Open yourself to me," the tribune said, and he positioned her to suit his purposes. Then his head slid between her shapely legs.

He slowly licked the tender flesh of her plump thighs. His teeth grazed her delicate skin, nipping just enough to pinch. She squealed softly. His tongue ran up and down her slit several times. Then, pulling one of her nether lips apart, he licked at the inside of it, then probed beyond to find her clitoris. He slowly licked at the sensitive little organ, playing with it, teasing it with the velvet tip of his tongue. His mouth closed over it, and he sucked hard on it.

Ashley cried out as a small clitoral orgasm overcame her. "Ohh, Max!" she cried to him. "No one does that to me as well as you do." Her hand stroked his dark hair. "I know you need a moment to recover, but I beg you to put your fingers in me. I am burning with my desire, and it will but whet my appetites further," she told him.

He raised himself up and kissed her firmly. She could taste herself on his lips. Then he pushed two fingers into her vagina. Hard. "It isn't as good as I will be," he said. The fingers frigged her slowly at first, and then with increasing rapidity, but she found she could not come, and she whimpered with her frustration. He laughed. "I know, my goddess. Only a thick, long cock will do for you, and you shall have it." He swung quickly over her. "Now!" And with a single fierce thrust he filled her vagina.

Ashley screamed with delight, and wrapped her legs about her husband. "Fuck me, Max!" she begged him. "Fuck me hard, and make me come!"

He obliged her, and they finally collapsed as they came together. And when he had caught his breath he said, "No more for now, my goddess. Tonight when we return from the palace we will enjoy each other. But for now we must prepare to be the emperor's guests."

She called for their slaves, and she and Max were bathed and dressed. Max was attired in a purple silk toga lined in gold, to indicate his military victories. On his feet were slipped a pair of calceus , fine leather sandals painted gold and studded with amethysts. His dark hair had been cut once he had come from his bath. It was short, with several tiny stiff curls on his forehead and at the nape of his neck. His only jewelry was a gold signet ring he used for sealing correspondence.

The tribune's wife was garbed in a sheer violet silk tunic shot through with gold threads. Her body glowed through the fabric. It was sleeveless, and the draped neckline was low. She carried a matching shawl. Her hair was fashioned into a coil at the nape of her neck. Her leather sandals were decorated with gold leaf and pearls. The long, ornate earrings hanging from her ears were gold and pearls.

They were carried through the streets of the city in a large litter to join the other patrician guests in a banquet at the emperor's palace. Maximillian Alerio Patronius and his wife were shown to couches quite near the emperor. The ruler gazed down at them through a ruby set in gold, and acknowledged their presence with a wave of his hand. Around them servants brought food and refilled wine cups, music played, entertainers entertained. The noise was bearable.

"I have taken a new herb that is supposed to extend my stamina for sex," the emperor announced at one point. He pointed to the young wife of a senator. "I would fuck her," he said.

The senator pushed his blushing wife from their couch and sent her immediately to the emperor, who proceeded to use her publicly. When he had finished his penis was still hard, and he was yet unsatisfied. He pointed to the wife of another senator, and proceeded to lustily fuck her until the woman fainted with multiple orgasms.

"She was better than the first," the emperor said dryly, "but not good enough." He scanned the great banquet room again, and his eye fell upon the wife of Maximillian Alerio Patronius. The lady Cordelia smiled at him.

"Tribune," the emperor said, "is your wife pleasurable in your bed?"

"She is indeed, Caesar," Max replied.

"I would try her," the emperor said.

"Go to him, Cordelia," the tribune told his wife.

Ashley got up, and obediently went to the emperor.

"Remove your garment," the emperor commanded. He had not asked any of the others to do that.

Ashley unfastened her tunic and let it drop to her feet.

The vast banquet hall was so silent you could have heard a drop of wine fall.

"You must make me come," the emperor told her. "If you do not I will whip you." He lay back upon his couch in a half-seated position, and pulled up his toga to reveal his penis. It was a very long penis, but not particularly thick, and it was thrusting straight up. "You may mount me," he told her.

"Not until you have prepared me properly, my lord," Ashley told him, and then, going around the couch to his head, she straddled him, pressing her mons down on his face. "Lick, Caesar, and make me wet. When you do I will give you the finest ride you have ever had. And if I do not you may indeed whip me."

He yanked her nether lips apart and licked her furiously. He found her clit, and in very little time she was slick with her juices. Pushing her back he said, "Now mount me, you brazen bitch! And I will probably whip you afterward to punish you for your boldness. And then I will fuck your ass as well!"

She mounted him, slowly, slowly sliding down his slender hard penis until she had absorbed it all. She began to ride him, gently at first, and then more quickly. Reaching up, the emperor grabbed her breasts and squeezed hard. She moaned as he pinched her nipples and then leaned forward to bite them. But suddenly Caesar began to smile, and she felt him quivering within her vagina. She rode him harder, and he climaxed with a roar of pure satisfaction. The banquet chamber erupted with cheers and clapping as Ashley fell forward.

Immediately slaves leaped forward to pull her off the emperor. They held her upright, for she could not stand right away. The emperor was fed wine, and sweetmeats were pushed into his mouth. His genitals were gently bathed. Slowly he regained his strength and equilibrium, and when he had, he called for a leather tawse and commanded that his most recent partner be bound between two marble pillars. Then he stood up and began to lay the strap across her plump buttocks as a young slave girl knelt between his legs and sucked his cock back to a state of readiness. When it was ready, and Ashley's bottom was pink and warm, she was released, brought to her knees, then forced to stretch forward so that the emperor might mount her from behind.

She felt a thick oil being rubbed on and around her anus. She squealed as Caesar pushed slowly into her rear channel. He whispered all manner of lascivious things into her ear as he took her. Then, reaching forward, he found her clitoris and began to rub it. "Ohh, Caesar!" the tribune's wife cried. "Ohh, Caesar!" His fingers were having the desired result, and she was going to come. "Yes!" she screamed, knowing her obvious pleasure in his public performance would please him. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" And she climaxed, bucking wildly, as he came with a shout.

"I shall send your husband back to Gaul immediately," Caesar murmured as he helped her up. "You are the best fuck I have ever had, and I must have you again."

"I thank you, my lord emperor, for your praise, but Caesar can have any woman he desires. Poor Maximillian Alerio Patronius has only me. If you send my husband back to Gaul I would go with him," Ashley said.

The emperor nodded. He was not in the habit of being refused, but the woman had serviced him extremely well. She deserved to be rewarded, and sending her to Gaul with her husband would cost him nothing. "You will come to me one more time before I return your tribune to Gaul. And then you may go with him."

Gathering up her tunic, Ashley bowed. "As the emperor wishes." She backed away and returned to join her husband.

"You did well," Max said.

"He is returning you to Gaul," she told him.

"He wants you."

"I am going with you," she told him. "It is you I love, Max."

And then she heard the sharp ting of the Channel bell, and she awoke in her bed. Wow! Ashley thought. That was some wild night. But I've been more than sexually satisfied. Ryan must think I'm a saint, she thought. And she giggled. Where the hell did sex with Caesar come from? she wondered. I didn't intend to add any more men to the picture. Sometimes the Channel scared her. It was everything she wanted, but now and again something she had never considered seemed to pop up-like a Roman orgy and a sexually insatiable emperor. Maybe I ought to practice a little abstinence for a while. And what was she going to do with the Channel when she was married? Other married women had it. Hell! Probably all of its subscribers were women. And what if sex between she and Ryan didn't work out? Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. But it was a temporary arrangement. Both of them had the right to be with people they loved.

Love. Everyone talked about love. But what exactly was love? Ben had thought he was in love for real just before he was shipped out. He had told her that he would probably ask Marianne to marry him when he got back. But he never came back. And Marianne had married someone else less than two years later. If you honestly loved someone, could you really do that? Could you love two men in a lifetime? Of course you could, she thought. She certainly had. Or had she really? What would have happened if she had married any one of the three? She probably would never have had sex with Carson if he had had the nerve to go through with their marriage. It would have ended in an annulment. And in disaster with Chandler, because there had to be more to love than just wild monkey sex. As for Derek, or whatever his real name was, he probably would have serviced her regularly as long as he got to spend her money. But that wasn't love.

This time she knew the wedding would come off. She was marrying to save her inheritance. Ryan was marrying to save his inheritance. They were crazily sexually attracted to each other. But love had nothing to do with it. It was all about money. And yet the lady Cordelia had told her tribune husband that she loved him. And he had looked just like Ryan Finbar Mulcahy. Subconsciously she had wanted him to look like Ryan. What else did she want subconsciously? It was starting to get very confusing, Ashley decided, and then she realized she had a headache. It was the kind she got maybe once or twice a year. Her temples began to pound and her stomach began to roll. She got up and stumbled to her bathroom, where she threw up. Thank goodness, Ashley thought. It always relieved the tension when she threw up, but she was not going to work today.