Date: Wed, 30 Dec 2009 15:09:08 -0500
From: scooterberwyn@hotmail.com
Subject: Caracalla

This story contains sex between consenting adult males.  If reading about
such things isn't something you like to do, or if it's illegal for you to
be exposed to this subject matter, then leave now!

This story originated in my teenage imagination back in the 1960's, when
Ancient Greek and Roman history was part of my school's curriculum.  I
wrote it down several years ago and have been tweaking it since then, until
it reached the form you see now.  I appreciate any constructive or
appreciative comments.

*****

   The brawny, handsome Roman lay spread-eagled in his cell, his wrists and
ankles secured to a wooden pallet.  His muscular, hairy body was completely
nude.  His shaggy auburn hair curled into a thick beard and mustache,
framing his rugged face.  His burly physique was superbly developed, with a
meaty chest and arms, a muscle-laddered midriff, and thighs like tree
trunks.
   The captive looked toward the prison door as it swung open and a
strapping colossus entered, holding a torch.  The newcomer's attractive
features were crowned by a thick mane of blond hair.  Bushy brows
accentuated his dark blue eyes and straight nose.  A luxuriant mustache
framed the top and sides of his wide mouth.  His strong chin and jaw sat
atop a thick neck, which flared into imposingly broad shoulders.  He was
totally naked, except for a loincloth which was several sizes too small to
conceal his donkey dick and balls or his rock-hard bubble-butt.  His
magnificently muscular build was in perfect proportion to his extraordinary
height.  A light dusting of blond hair covered him from shoulders to toes.
Silently he placed the torch in a wall bracket, flooding the cell with a
warm glow, then closed the door and bolted it.
   "Do you recognize me, Caracalla?" he asked seriously, looming over the
prisoner.
   "Brutus - the Gaul who bested me in the wrestling arena!" Caracalla
gasped.
   "That's right.  I'm surprised and somewhat flattered that you remember
me."
   "How could I forget you?  When I first laid eyes on you in the arena,
naked but for your wrestling thong, you looked so magnificent, your oiled
muscles gleaming in the sun, that I thought you were a descendant of the
gods.  I felt no shame in losing the match to you.  As I recall, I ordered
that you be freed and made a citizen of Rome as a reward for your victory,
with a regular income from the treasury."
   "Yes, you did, and because of your unexpected generosity, I have offered
up many prayers and sacrifices in your name, `Hercules Romanus'."
   "I thank you for that, Brutus.  What are you doing here?"  Despite his
shackles, Caracalla's long, limp penis began to engorge and stiffen as his
warm brown eyes lustfully perused the stocky athlete.
   "When I heard of your imprisonment, I bribed the appropriate authorities
so that I would be the one who determines your ultimate fate.  I fooled
them into believing that I loathe and despise you.  My orders from them are
to dispose of you as I see fit, my lord," Brutus replied, ogling the former
emperor's beefy, hirsute physique.  "Shit, you`re even handsomer and sexier
than I had remembered."
   "You're quite a hunk yourself, Brutus," Caracalla responded, smiling.
"And please, forget the `my lord' stuff.  I'm not the emperor any longer."
   "In my heart, you will always be my lord," Brutus stated.  He wrapped
one massive paw around Caracalla's eleven-inch long, wrist-thick prick,
squeezing and hefting it in his palm as it swelled to gargantuan
proportions.  "I've never seen such a big cock on a man before," Brutus
asserted in a tone of wondering admiration.  "I remember that when I landed
on you in the arena for the final pin, our crotches ground together.  I
couldn't believe the size of what you were rubbing against my hard cock.
Even through the layers of cloth, I could tell how extraordinarily
well-endowed you were.  You're hung like a fucking stallion - even bigger
than me!  Look."
   With one hand, Brutus tore off his loincloth, dropping it to the earthen
floor.  His ten-inch toker jutted out from his crotch, bobbing heavily
above his loose-hanging ball-sac, a string of pre-cum dangling from the
piss-slit.
   "Do you remember how I thrashed and moaned under you during that final
pin?" Caracalla asked.  "I got so aroused, feeling you lying on top of me
in all your muscular glory, that I had an orgasm inside my wrestling
thong."
   Releasing Caracalla's throbbing schlong, Brutus crouched beside the
platform and nuzzled Caracalla's left armpit, relishing the heady aroma of
the man's sweat.  Avidly licking the hairy flesh, he savored its ripe
flavor.  Slowly he traversed Caracalla's broad chest, nibbling and suckling
the rubbery nipples as they contracted to become hard, sensitive nubs.
   "Damn it, Brutus," Caracalla whimpered, writhing in exquisite agony.
"I'm going to come if you keep that up."  Brutus rose to his feet, his eyes
ablaze with unbridled passion.
   "I`m going to free your hands," Brutus said huskily.  "I want to fulfill
a fantasy that I`ve played out in my mind ever since that day in the
arena."  He untied Caracalla's wrists, and the appreciative muscleman
stretched his arms luxuriously to restore the circulation to them.
   "Sit on my face, Brutus," the former emperor begged.  "I want to eat
your ass."  The horny wrestler accommodatingly straddled Caracalla's neck,
burying the prisoner's nose and mouth between his muscular buttocks.
   Caracalla inhaled the intoxicating odor of Brutus' sweaty asshole and
lapped along the hairy crease to find the entrance to the Gaul's rectum.
His flexed tongue drilled through the elastic pucker, while his lips sucked
at the portal.  His beard and mustache became drenched with his spit.  He
reached up to fondle Brutus' testicles with one hand, kneading and
squeezing the Gaul's plum-sized balls.  Brutus quivered with lust as
Caracalla's other hand stroked his throbbing love-pole and massaged the
drooling cock-head.
   "Your mouth feels so damn great chewing my butt!" Brutus groaned.
"Tongue-fuck me good, Caracalla.  Loosen up my ass to receive your titanic
boner!"  He bent forward to take as much as he could of the prisoner's
enormous missile in his mouth as it drooled pre-cum.
   For a while, the only sounds in the cell were the slurps and moans of
the two horny musclemen.  Eventually, Brutus could take no more.  He stood
up and climbed off Caracalla's face.  Despite the cell's dankness, both men
were sweating profusely, aflame with lustful desire for one another.
   Kneeling astride his comrade's burly waist, facing him, the Gaul reached
back and positioned Caracalla's pulsating piston so that the tip of the
drooling crown was pressed against the gaping gateway to the wrestler's
well-primed shit-chute.
   "Ever since I dropped on top of you in the arena and felt your hard cock
rubbing against mine, I've fantasized about this moment," Brutus confessed,
wincing slightly as his sphincter stretched and clamped tightly around the
flanged base of Caracalla's fist-sized cock-head.  The former emperor
cupped his hands behind his head, so he could better watch his colossal
club gradually disappear up Brutus' shit-chute.
   "Why didn't you say something, and let me know how you felt?" Caracalla
asked.
   "You were the emperor (unh!), my Caesar (mmph!)," Brutus grunted,
grinning lewdly as he slowly skewered himself on Caracalla's column.  "I
feared (ooh!) you would take offense (unh!) and have me executed."  He
chuckled.  "Believe me, if I'd known you felt the same way about men
(aah!), about me (mmm!), I would have told you!"
   "Shit, Brutus, your ass feels like a goose-down sheath around my dick!"
Caracalla gasped.  "Take me, buddy.  Go down on me all the way."  Reaching
up to the Gaul's heaving chest, he grasped his big, hard nipples, pinching
and twisting them savagely with his thick fingers.  Brutus roared with
delight and impaled himself fully on Caracalla's turgid spike.  A surge of
agonizing pleasure wracked his sweating bulk.  Caracalla beamed as the
wrestler's spread buttocks slapped down on his thighs.
   "Your lodge-pole feels so fucking fantastic up my ass," Brutus panted.
"Damn it, buddy, you've ruined me for any other men."  Deliberately he
bobbed up and down, screwing himself on his comrade's titanic love-pole,
while his own massive, drooling man-meat smacked against Caracalla`s hairy
upper body, streaking it with pre-cum.
   Caracalla tensed his body, attempting to delay the impending climax
building up in his loins.  "It's been a long time since I came, Brutus.  I
won't be able to hold off much longer," he warned.  "Shoot your load on me,
all over my chest."  He wrapped a fist around Brutus' pulsating torpedo and
urgently masturbated it, spreading its leaking juices all over the
throbbing crank.  His other hand closed firmly around the wrestler's
dangling balls and squeezed them in a vise-like grip.
   "Aww, Caracalla," Brutus wailed.  "Here I cum - arrggghhhh!"  His
massive bulk shuddered uncontrollably as bolts of viscous semen arced from
his piss-slit to splatter in streaks and puddles over Caracalla's hirsute
torso and face.  Awash in his ecstatic release, he reflexively flexed his
sphincter around the ex-emperor's tortured truncheon.
   Caracalla stifled a roar of passion as the added pressure toppled him
over the brink into a vortex of mind-numbing bliss.  He bucked wildly, and
potent sperm gushed from his spasming hose to drench the walls of its
casing in a soothing glaze of lubrication.
   The two horny studs' wracked physiques thrashed and quivered as they
shot their wads.  Eventually their fierce orgasms waned, and Brutus
collapsed on top of Caracalla's exhausted body, the pools of his spent load
plastering together their heaving torsos.  They lay panting, still
connected, cock to ass, to recuperate from their sexual workout, while
Brutus lazily licked up his spent seed from Caracalla`s face and neck.
   "Caracalla," Brutus murmured, finally breaking the silence, "if I can
get you out of here alive, would you be willing to come live with me as my
lover?"
   "With all my heart, Brutus," Caracalla assented fervently.  "No one
before you has ever been able to accommodate my boner all the way.  Even
after my wildest private orgies, I've never felt so sexually fulfilled and
spent as you've made me.  I have felt, since that day in the arena, that
our lives are inextricably joined together.  I love you, Brutus.  I want to
be with you, wherever you are, forever.  And the next time we couple, I
want to feel you inside me."  The two muscle-men kissed lovingly.
   Suddenly Brutus sat up, uncoupled from Caracalla, and urgently
dismounted.  Squatting in a corner of the cell, he noisily farted, spewing
most of his new lover's copious seed onto the stone floor.  "Ahhhhh, that's
even more pleasurable than an enema," he joked as he got up, using his
discarded loincloth to wipe his ass clean, then tossing the soiled garment
to a dark corner of the cell.  Meanwhile, Caracalla untied his ankles and
shakily got to his feet, free at last.
   "Listen," the Gaul whispered intensely.  "If we can escape to the harbor
without being seen, I have a ship that will take us to Tarentum.  I have a
villa in the mountains near there, and it's far enough from Rome that no
one will know who you really are.  We'll be safe there."
   "As I recall, there's an old tunnel under this cell that runs straight
to the harbor," Caracalla mused, moving to the back wall and running his
hands over it.  "The early kings of Rome built it in case of emergencies,
but it's been forgotten, unused, for ages.  The latch should be somewhere -
ah, here it is!"  He pushed on a stone in the wall, and a slab of the floor
dropped away, revealing a flight of crude steps.
   Brutus grabbed the torch from the wall bracket, and the two burly
strongmen descended into the tunnel.  The floor swung back into place,
wiping out all trace of their exit.  Hand in hand, the two naked lovers
sped down the passageway, safely on their way to a new life together.