A Funny Thing Happened...

Liz, still grinning, muttered "Bitch!" under her breath, then louder: "That's right, Honey. Now tonight, after you're married, Hero is going to put something up your...um..."—she fought the giggles—"well, nice girls call it...um...Gymnasia, how do the better class of Roman maidens refer to their cunts?"

I was still trying to get my shit together, and failing. "I don't know: pussy, honeypot, fuck box, va-jay-jay, pleasureus tunnelus?" We were all howling now. Liz found speech first.

"Probably 'pleasurea tunnela', unless we're talking about Dapper Jack's..."

"Never mind!" I screamed.

"Ok, Ok..." Liz seemed to be regaining control. "Let's go with 'pussy', shall we? Right, so: Hero is going to want to put his...um...his..."

"Cock." I spoke quickly, hoping to avert another yuk-fest. Then I saw mischief creep into Carolyn's eyes. "Philia, you do know what a cock is?"

"Of course, Gymnasia." said our naughty virgin, looking like the picture of innocence, "A cock is a male..."

"Not a male chicken!" I snapped, nipping that one in the bud. Carolyn stuck her tongue out at me. I turned back to Sim, who had by now remembered how to breathe. "Pseudolus!" He looked up at me. I gave him a seductive smile. "I want you to come...over here for a minute.

9.

"Yes, Mistress Gymnasia." His words brought me back to the task at hand, and the aching between my thighs, temporarily forgotten in all the hilarity, returned with a vengeance. I watched him come toward me: burly, powerful, slightly bowlegged, slightly flatfooted. There was no real grace in his movement, but there was confidence, authority. As I watched him approach, I suddenly wondered if he had altered the rules of the game slightly. He would answer to Pseudolus, banter in character, play the slave. Like a good improv-er, he would accept whatever was offered him, but he seemed to want to experience whatever was on offer—and he was no kind of fool; he had to have some idea of where the evening was headed—as himself, as Sim. The realization startled me. I loved the idea of being Gymnasia, of role-playing the irresistible seductress. I wanted to lose myself in the game. I, Gymnasia, just wanted to fuck, and if this short, squat slave had the nearest hard cock, I would treat him to a selection of the most exquisite debaucheries to be found between Alexandria and Gaul. I, Ginny McNally, wanted to lie back on the bed and make passionate love to Sim, not Pseudolus. (And to tell the truth, I didn't know shit about what went on between Alexandria and Gaul.)

Problem was I was both I's; I wanted both things. Sim didn't seem to care what Pseudolus wanted. He wanted whatever would happen to happen to him. But maybe he thought he was about to get lucky because these three crazy chicks had some kind of weird jones for the character he was playing: negative fuckability. All of a sudden, I decided that, before this Valentine's Day was over, I would make Sim understand that whatever was about to happen would happen because I wanted him, I desired him. If I fucked it all up, if the whole thing turned to shit, if he felt hurt or used or whatever, if he never spoke to me again, we were going to dispense once and for all, with this negative fuckability horseshit. I'd wanted him from the night he called me a dream sequence, and maybe before that, but certainly from before I'd heard about Holly Parsegian, or casting director workshops, or any of the rest of it. I'd wanted him then, and I wanted him now. And there he was, standing in front of me, half a smile on his face, looking adorable in his Target toga. His eyes looked up into mine, then, making sure I was watching—setting up the joke like an old vaudevillian—they dropped to stare directly at my breasts. "Yes, Mistress Gymnasia? How may I serve you two...er, that's to say, what can I do for you?"

I raised my eyebrows, smiled, and gave a little shimmy, just enough to set my boobs bouncing gently, so that only he could see. Then I called over to Liz: "Sister, bring the little virgin over here. Let's show her how a man's body works."

10.

I slipped around behind Pseudolus, running my hands in a gentle caress over his upper arms and back. I stood directly behind him, and bent slightly to speak to Philia, letting my man feel the tips of my hard nipples through the lace brushing against his back and shoulders. Vibrata caught my eye and spoke: "Sister, have you ever seen a naked man before?"

I watched little Philia's eyes open wide, and her mouth form into a pretty—and suggestive—little pink o. She shook her head. "No, Vibrata, I never have. Does Hero have to be naked before I can give him my maidenhead? Am I supposed to rub it on him, or something, like"—she giggled—"ointment?"

Sim muttered "holy shit" under his breath. I smacked him, not too gently, across the top of his head. Liz giggled. Carolyn was disturbingly good at this.

"One thing at a time," replied Vibrata, calling the class back to order. "Hero will probably want to be naked when you give him your maidenhead, and he'll probably want you naked too. Let me show you." She turned to me. "Gymnasia, my dear, let's begin."

I pulled the sheet-toga off of Sim's shoulders, and let it fall down to the rope tied around his waist. Vibrata smiled, and licked her lips: "Mmmm, very nice! Now, this slave is a man. Hero is still a boy, so his shoulders won't be as broad,"—I ran my hands across the shoulders in question, like a Roman Vanna White—"or his arms as strong." My fingers explored our slave's biceps; I felt him tense, and the muscle hardened under my fingers. I bent down and blew a hot little purr of breath into his left ear. He shuddered. Vibrata continued. "Your Hero probably won't have as much hair on his chest and arms. Some girls don't like a hairy chest," she came closer, and brushed her fingers across his front, letting a long pinky nail tease his right nipple, "but I do. Don't you, Gymnasia?"

"Oh yes!" I sighed, letting my breath tickle poor Pseudolus' ear again. (I'd never really thought much about it one way or the other. Most of my previous lovers had been younger and smoother than Sim, but as I explored his body with my eyes and hands, I decided I had no problem with the dark, wispy hair covering his arms and upper chest.) I ran my fingertips lightly over his chest until I found his nipples. These I first circled with the pads of my forefingers, and then I pinched them gently. Pseudolus groaned. Vibrata smiled.

"Pay close attention, Little Sister. A good courtesan knows a thousand little ways to please her man above the belt. As Gymnasia has already demonstrated, the nipples"—here she stepped close and gently scratched Pseudolus' with her finger nail—"can be very sensitive. Run just the tip of your tongue around Hero's before you invite him into your bed, and he will be putty in your pretty little hands. Also the side of the neck; Gymnasia, if you would demonstrate?"

"With pleasure, Sister!" I used my tongue to trace a tendon from the top of my man's shoulder to a spot just below his ear. I circled the area with the tip of my tongue, and then circled it with my lips and gave it a long warm, sucking kiss, like a vampire bite. I heard my victim moan, and felt his breath quicken.

"And then there are the ears..." Vibrata's voice was ragged, and I felt, rather than saw her wind her arms around Pseudolus' waist. I looked up to see her draw her tongue around the curve of his ear, until she reached the lobe. Trapping it between her teeth, she bit gently. We had our slave pressed between us, and as we licked and kissed and bit and sucked, our hands caressed back and chest, neck and head, but never descended below the rope which held up the remains of the toga. Our eyes met, and we stepped away, breaking all contact. Pseudolus was panting like he'd just run a mile, and Philia squeaked: "Oh my!"

11.

I caught Liz's eye, and we smiled at each other. As aroused as I was to be seducing Sim, it was also satisfying to get a rise out of Little Miss Sassy-Virgin; "Nothing up my cunt" forsooth! But it was also time to move on to the next...um...beat in the scene, to be all Acting 101 about it. Liz took a step towards Carolyn, but I saw her steal a quick glance down Sim's body. I stepped around and stole a glance myself; tough to tell with all the fabric, but I fancied I could see something of a tent in the toga.

"Now, Little Sister, the time has come to show you an example of the...well, the tool which Hero will use to...oh, let's say remove your maidenhead. Gymnasia, will you help our slave to disrobe?"

Once again, I slipped behind Sim, and pressed myself up against his broad back. As I reached around for the knot in the rope holding up the toga, I nibbled his ear and whispered: "Having fun yet?"

"Depends," it was barely a breath; I was the only one who heard it. "Am I awake?"

"Want me to pinch you?"

"There's about a million things I want you to do to me...and a million more I want to do to you...pinching's not a priority. Besides, I don't want to wake up...just in case."

"Can I take this silly toga off you now?"

"You can do anything you want, if..."

"If what?"

"Never mind. Sure. Take it off."

I came around to face him, my body between him and the other two. "If what?" I insisted.

He smiled at me, but he shook his head. "Your rehearsal." he said, "You call the shots."

The knot came lose then. The toga fell to the floor, and I took a step back to look at the Valentine's Day present I had just unwrapped.

Sim's body was thick all over; no other word for it. There was some fat, but there was also muscle, particularly in his legs. His claves were powerful, and his thighs as broad and hard as young trees. His ass was round and solid. I'd already seen his chest and torso, but now I saw the entire man. Naked, he seemed neither young nor old. The hair on his chest, arms and legs covered the rest of him sparely. Where you could see it, it was dark, like the little that remained on his head, and the thick curly mass that surrounded his half-erect cock: not a huge cock; thick, rather than long, like the rest of him. I raised my eyes to meet his, and I knew he'd seen me looking. He gave a crooked little half-smile, liked he hoped he hadn't disappointed.

In that moment, I wanted to run to him and throw my arms around him and tell him that I loved the way he looked, that I loved his body and wanted his body, and all the good stuff—heart, mind, soul—that came with it. But something Liz said chose that same moment to come back to me: "How many guys can think hard enough to count to one with a pretty lady blowing them?" I didn't want him thinking, second-guessing, remembering that goddamn casting director. So don't let him think: fuck him stupid, suck him dry, then, when he hasn't got two functioning brain cells to rub together, then tell him. And then fuck him again, to make sure you get your point across. Actions speak louder than words, right? I looked Pseudolus in the eye, dropped my eyes to his cock, met his eyes again, smiled, and licked my lips, slowly, seductively: promises, promises. Then I stepped to the side, and said: "Ladies, look what we have here!"

12.

Vibrata smiled, cocked an eyebrow at me, as if to say 'We can work with that.' Then she said aloud: "Doesn't that look tasty? Philia, come closer. Have a good look." Once more, I moved around behind our slave, so my fellow slut and our slut-in-training could approach. "Handsome, isn't he, Little Sister? Nice broad shoulders, powerful legs. I like his eyes too, and he's got a cute mouth. How bout it, Slave-Boy? A girl spreads her legs, you know what to do with that mouth of yours?"

Pseudolus said: "You know, I object to being objectified in this disgusting manner!"

Vibrata said: "Really?"

Pseudolus: "Nah, kidding. It's a new and enjoyable experience. Please continue."

It was Little Miss Sassy-Virgin's turn to giggle. Vibrata continued. She knelt in front of our slave, about a foot away, and pulled Philia down to kneel beside her.

"He's got a nice cock too, hasn't he, Sweetie? I mean, I've seen bigger; hell, last campaigning season, the Forth Macedonian Cavalry rented me for a weekend. That was a workout, let me tell you! Oh, sorry. I'm forgetting: you haven't seen one before. That thickish thing kind of pointing at us from between his legs: that's his cock. Hero's got one too, and tonight, when he gets you alone, he's gonna toss that cute little ass of yours onto your marriage bed, force your thighs apart, and bury that bad boy balls-deep in your hot little cunny. Um...again, sorry. Balls: two of 'em, in that kind of sack like thing under his cock. You good with the terminology?"

"Oh my, I think so..." She pointed back and forth: "Cock, balls, cock, balls...um, I think I've got it. But, won't that hurt, if he puts his...um...his cock in my pussy? It looks kind of big to me."

"It might hurt a little, at first, but Little Sister, believe me when I tell you, once you get past 'at first', it's really worth it; and as for big...actually, we're here to teach you how to make it even bigger."

Philia put her finger to her bottom lip, managing to look pretty and puzzled, and sexy and stupid all at the same time. "But Vibrata, I don't understand. Why would I want to do that?"

"Because, Little Sister,"—I broke in at this point; didn't want Liz hogging all the best business—"the bigger and harder and thicker your man's cock is, the better you'll feel when he slides it inside of you. And when you feel good, it's easier to make him feel good. And when you love somebody you want them to feel good, right?"

"Right!" said our little virgin, smiling happily, "I do understand that part."

"And if you make him feel really, really good, you can get him to buy you all kinds of neat stuff too." I winked at Pseudolus: "Right, Slave?"

"Oh absolutely, Mistress Philia." Pseudolus picked up his cue like a pro. "In fact, my dear friend, Doctor Egregious Malpracticus, spends far more on a young lady who helps him measure the effect of...um, various practices on that part of his body, than he does on his own wife."

Our little slut-in-training appeared to consider this. "I see. Oh, my, well I do like nice things..."

"Of course you do, Sweetheart," Vibrata was back, "so pay close attention. Gymnasia and I are going to teach you all you need to know about making a slave into a man and your man into your slave. Pseudolus, would you be a dear and put your shapely ass on the beanbag there?"

13.

Pseudolus sat: a little splayed, legs spread, like you do in a beanbag. At first his hands moved to cover himself, but I caught his eye and gave him a sad little pout, like 'Why do you want to take away my toys?' He looked like he was trying not to laugh, then he blushed—no shit, he blushed; ever see a mostly bald guy blush? His whole head turned pink. It was kind of adorable and terrifying at the same time. But at least he put his hand down by his sides. He'd lost his erection—he was apparently a grower rather than a show-er—and the head of his thick cock poked out hopefully from its nest of dark pubic hair. I smiled, and he sighed and relaxed: my rehearsal, my rules.

Vibrata began the lesson. "Now, Little Sister, a really accomplished seductress can play her man like a fiddle; all five senses, right?" Philia nodded obediently. "So let's start with sight. I want you to stand in front of Pseudolus here, and take off all you clothes."

I snuck a peak at Sim's face: bemused grin, like: how much stranger is this night going to get?

Philia said: "Oh, my! All of them?"

I chimed in: "He's been naked for the past half hour. I think it's only fair that we join him. I'm feeling a little over-dressed anyway." I bent down as if to unsnap one of my garters, and watched with satisfaction as our slave's eyes snapped to the tops of my breasts which threatened to tumble out of my lingerie

"Gymnasia," said Vibrata, a warning note in her voice "We need to do this in stages. You know what the sight of your naked tits can do to men unprepared for the ordeal."

"I heard," said Philia, in a frightened, breathy little voice, "that several gladiators...um... came so hard their hearts just...stopped. What does that mean, by the way, 'coming hard?' Is that like running into a closed door?"

We hadn't scripted any of this, but I was grateful to the girls for sort of plugging the super-slut angle.

Vibrata shot Philia a quizzical look: "What the...? Sort of? Look, we'll cover that later. With Hero, on your first try, you should be so lucky. Anyway, Gymnasia, keep 'em covered 'til I say so, got it?"

"Aw, you're no fun!" I pouted, cupping my tits and giving them a little jiggle. "I bet Pseudolus could take it." I glanced down at his cock, which had begun to stiffen a little. "He looks like a strong man!"

"Pseudolus doesn't get a vote! Now, be a good slut, or no cock for you until Wednesday."

"Meanie!"

"Whore!"

"Well, duh!"

"Yeah, I suppose... Anyway, Philia, front and center. Face the nice slave, pretend he's your husband, and strip!"

Philia stood a foot or so from Pseudolus' beanbag, took her lower lip between her front teeth, reached down, and pull her babydoll over her head. Her skin was pale rose, her breasts milk white with a dusting of freckles, and she had small hot pink nipples in the middle of perfectly round areolas. She brought an arm up to cover her bosom, glanced over at Vibrata and squeaked: "Everything?"

"You can leave the slippers."

"OK..." She reached behind her to remove the thong from between her cheeks, and gave a little wiggle. Her panties fell to the ground revealing a delicate pink pussy shaved bare except for a tuft of strawberry blonde curls at the top of her slit. I think all three of us sighed just a little. Carolyn was gorgeous clothed; naked she was absolutely stunning.

Our little virgin looked at Pseudolus from under long lashes, and then she giggled: "Ooh, look, it's getting bigger!"

And it was. Our slave's cock had begun to stiffen. Vibrata made a production of examining the part in question. Then she turned back to Philia. "Not bad for a first time. Let's see if I can help things along a little."

Carolyn had simply taken off her lingerie. She was a beautiful woman possessed of considerable natural grace, but she was playing the innocent. Liz performed an impromptu strip-tease, dancing to a soundtrack which only she could hear. On anybody else it would have looked stupid; on my friend Liz Charboneaux...in fire-engine red lingerie? Holy shit!

She pranced around in a half-circle until her back was to her audience—Carolyn and I stepped behind Sim's beanbag to watch—and her hips rocked and rolled as she reached around to unclasp her bra. She shot a look over her shoulder, caught Carolyn's eye (ah...the kiss, the glances...not rocket science.), winked, and spun around to prance toward us, holding the bra over her breasts with her right arm. Then she shimmied out of the shoulder straps, and let her top fall; a pouty 'should I?' look, and her arm came away from her body, now naked from the waist up. Another shimmy set her pretty titties bouncing, as she turned her back to us again, and stuck out that killer ass as she bent to undo the straps holding the stockings to the cincher.

I know guys who consider Liz Charboneaux's ass proof of the existence of a benign God and an ordered universe. No shit; according to some grad-school student she had dated, nothing that perfect could have come into being without a master plan. The cincher fell away, and she swayed and swiveled her round firm cheeks to the rhythm of some driving, jazzy bump-and-grind. My mouth had fallen open without my being aware of it, and I expended the mental energy necessary to close it. Then I looked, a little nervously, at Sim. His expression hadn't changed; the little grin was still there, although his eyes looked a little wider than they had. I let my eyes travel down his body, and sure enough, his dick was harder, a little longer, still not fully erect, not like when we'd kissed. I didn't know how to feel; part of me was relieved, and part of me was surprised. I'm not really into girls, and Liz had me dripping like a busted sprinkler. A stray thought occurred to me: Sim was 48; maybe guys his age didn't get the same kind of insta-boners younger men got. I'd have to remember that if I got him alone, or when I got him alone.