A long time ago

Even now in my arms

You still want her(him) I know

But darling this time

Your memory is dying

When you hold me tonight

Don't close your eyes"

"Hey, Spaniard, get your ass over here."

Maximus looked up laconically from what served as sustenance these days.  A couple of the gladiators exchanged glances, concerned for their comrade's welfare.  He rose from the rough plank of wood that supplied seating above the muddy courtyard.  One thing he didn't like about coming to Roma was the incessant rain they had experienced since their arrival.  He slogged through the mire, across the practice yard and over to the guard who called him.

The stocky soldier was a head shorter than he, Maximus took a little pleasure from the thought that he could physically look down upon the oaf.  He could tell the legions in Roma were fat and untrained, untested by war - quite useless really.  His blue tunic was drenched, water dripping from his close-cropped hair into his eyes.  The guard remained covered by the stone overhang attached to the buildings that framed the courtyard.

"Get the men together in five minutes."

"Why me?"

"You're the general."  His snide tone barely touched Maximus' ears.  Since the first day in the Arena, he knew that his days were numbered.  But he wasn't about to run, he had an obligation to his dead family and his gladiator comrades.

"What's happening?"

"Be careful, slave."  Emphasis being put on Maximus' position in the grand scheme of things.  "It's not healthy to ask too many questions."  The guard turned his back on the lean gladiator, Maximus stifling the urge to attack the bastard while he wasn't looking.   Maximus returned to where the rest of the gladiators were gathered and told them to be in formation in five minutes.  Hagen bitched about the fact he wasn't going to get to finish his dinner, but Juba pointed out to him it is better to live to see another dinner than to provoke the wrath of their keepers.

Five minutes later, the rag-tag group of arena survivors were lined up in some semblance of order when the guards came out.  Following them were several men and women, finely dressed and noticeably patrician.  One of Proximo's scribes whispered in low tones to the guests, pointing discretely every so often to different men.  Haken murmured to Maximus who stood beside him, "What's going on?"

"I don't know."

Jentius, a rawboned Egyptian, mumbled, "They're looking for fresh meat."

"They want to eat us?"  Haken's eyes were bright and round at the thought of these supposed civilized people eating human flesh.

"No, stupid.  They want playthings.... gladiators are often purchased by men and women alike for the night or the weekend....for entertainment purposes."

Maximus got the gist of what the young Egyptian was saying but he could still tell that Haken was confused by the translation.  "Haken, they want us for bedsport."

"Oh..."  Haken smiled at one of the rich matrons standing under the stone roof in front of them.  "Don't mind that.  Safer than in the arena.  Anyway, I could go for a nice soft woman for a change."

Jentius laughed softly, "Don't bet on it.  On the safety or having a woman.  Remember, men also like slaves of our persuasion."

Maximus swallowed, praying to himself that he would not be picked.  He had no desire to be a plaything for the rich and powerful.  He had spent most of his life in the Roman Army doing that same thing, he wasn't about to give up his body for their folly.

The visitors took one last look at the freezing men, clad only in their drenched tunics and worn boots, then followed the scribe back the way they had come into the practice yard.  The guards waved off the men to return to their training, all of whom wondered about who had been chosen.

Later in the evening, the sun, what little of it peaked through the dismal clouds, set over the horizon of the Seven Hills of Roma.  Maximus was occupied with his nightly prayers calling for the protection of his wife and son, seemingly oblivious to the bustle about him in the other cells. There was a polite rap upon his door and he said one last prayer, this one to the gods who controlled the rain to at least slack up a bit.  He rose from his kneeling position and blew out the candle to his shrine.

He walked over to the door and opened it, only to come face to face with an overdressed servant in garish livery.  His face was puckered into a disdainful grimace as he cast a long glance down Maximus' well-muscled frame.  "Are you the one they refer to as the Spaniard?"  His voice was high pitched, effeminately nasal and quite piercing to Maximus' ears.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"You are to come...uh hum...with me.  My master is expecting you."

"Who is your master?"

"That really isn't your concern.  Your services have been purchased for the evening."  He looked down his long nose at Maximus, an almost impossible task for a man who was a good five inches shorter than Maximus.  He was quite tempted to pick up the little buffoon and shake him til his teeth rattled in his head.

"I'm not going."  Maximus turned his back on the puny servant.

"I was afraid of that."  Before Maximus could turn around, two stout guards, much larger than Maximus, grabbed him and shackled him tightly with stout chains.  Maximus cursed, trying in vain to free himself from the heavy metal bonds.  The two guards then forcibly guided him out of the cell, Maximus struggling against their iron grip.

He was unceremoniously thrown into the back of a cart and whisked away through unfamiliar city streets.  A rough and tumble ride and thirty minutes later, the cart slowed in front of an elegant house, trimmed in fine moldings and beautiful statuary.  The two beefy men hauled Maximus, still raring for a fight, out of the cart and onto the cobbled pavement.  He hit the ground with a thud, unable to keep his hobbled feet underneath him.

They dragged him up the walk and to the door, where a porter, dressed similiarly to the obsequious servant, opened the door and let them in.  He was pushed, pulled, and otherwise driven up the marble foyer into the main room of the opulent home.

Sitting there was quite a gathering of Roman personages of the highest water.  The guards held him upright between them as a rotund man, about fifty, rose from his cushion and waddled over to them.  He smelled strongly of a musky cologne, making Maximus' nose itch and desire to sneeze.

Fat Man reached out with one fleshy finger and traced the ruggedly handsome lines of Maximus' face.

Maximus flinched away from his blatant caress, sickened by the touch.  His eyes burned like icy sapphires, his anger and frustration evident at the situation in which he now found himself.  He had the heady desire to kill the bastard with his own bare hands.  He also knew that the man could almost read his thoughts, because the patrician wasn't about to loose his bonds.

"Maybe later."  Fat Man purred, his multiple chins rippling with every movement.  "You'll be begging for it, after I'm through with you."

"Don't bet on it."  Maximus growled back.

Fat Man laughed heartily.  "That's what I like, a lot of spirit."  The rest of his guests joined in his joviality.  "But for now, I have something else planned."

He gestured to the two guards, who escorted Maximus into one of the small interior rooms off the large hall.  They removed his leg shackles, but left his wrists chained.  After they left, he growled in frustration.

A short rap followed by a slow opening of the door to room caught his attention.  A slight young woman, maybe late teens-early twenties, stepped inside, carrying a pitcher and bowl of water, with a rough linen towel draped over one arm.  Her raven hair was secured behind her ears with a leather thong, it trailed curls down her lithe backside.  She glided across the room to face him, her eyes respectfully downcast.

There was a small linen cloth in the bowl, which she set on a nearby table, then poured the water from the pitcher into the bowl.  Maximus watched her practiced movements warily.  She faced him and stood there with rag in hand.

"What do you want?"  His soft baritone effectively hid the anger he felt.  He noticed her lightly tanned skin, the lovely shape of her face as he turned to face her.

"To wash you...sir."  Her voice trembled, unsure how to approach the fiercesome warrior.  The taut lines of his handsome face were threatening enough, but his clear blue eyes pierced her soul.  She allowed her eyes to drift up and meet his, she didn't know why except for an undeniable magnetism.

Maximus could detect a slight accent in her voice, her Latin not quite fluent.  He brought himself to smile at her.  When his eyes met hers, he sucked in a deep breath.  Her eyes were a captivating amethyst color, he had never seen such in his experience.  "What is your name, little one?"

"They call me Marena."

"You are from the seaside, I gather."

"An island far from here," she murmured whistfully.  She held out the dripping rag to him.  "You need ....to take off your clothes."

"I can do that."  He reached to take the rag from her, she tossed her head in refusal.

"No, I must do it.  My master says so."  He could see her discomfort at the thought of seeing him nude.  He almost had to laugh.  He thought of his wife for a fleeting second.  She had never been the shy one, she had always laughed at his reticence to show his naked form in the bedroom.  A sharp pang caused him to shudder at her memory.

Marena watched as a dark cloud pass over his face, then quickly disappear as he brushed away the painful remembrance.  She steeled herself against the embarrassment of his impending exposure and forced herself to remain there as he stripped off his belt and tunic.  Her breath caught in her throat as she viewed the rippling muscles of his chest and thighs.  His manhood was still discreetly covered by a light linen loincloth.  She blushed red at the thought of the golden tan of his skin.

She reached out to him to begin to wash him.  First his face, which she gently traced with her long, tapered fingers, then his neck, strong and corded.  The warm water beaded upon his smooth skin, he relished the feel of her hands under the cloth, unconsciously delineating the muscle he had developed with years of fighting, both as a soldier and as a gladiator.

Her soft voice brought him from his revelry as she asked quietly, "What is your name?"  She continued down the line of his neck to his shoulders and torso.

He swallowed and mumbled, "Maximus."  Marena had to smile to herself - he was aptly named.  She brought the cloth down his arm, stopping briefly to study the two recently healed scars upon his left bicep.  He followed her gaze as she stared at the reminant of his wounds: one inflicted in defence, the other in defiance.

Marena realized he had caught her staring at him, and returned her attention back to cleaning his arm.  She gave the same respect to his other arm before wiping down his torso and back.

The message of her fingers upon his shoulders and back almost causes Maximus to fall asleep standing up.  He was more relaxed now than he had been in months....well, with the exception of the slight stirring in his loins.  He would been even redder if the girl had any sense of the havoc she was wreaking upon his body.  And he hated himself for it.

Maximus opened his eyes to meet her expectant gaze.  "What is it?"

Marena cleared her throat and pointed to his loincloth, which already had damp spots forming from the water she had been trickling from the cloth.  "You need to remove that."  He watched her blush a deep crimson.

Let it be me

Don't pretend it's her (him)

In some fantasy

Darling, just once

Let yesterday go

And you'll find more love than you'll ever know

Just hold me tight

When you hold me tonight

And don't close your eyes

"It's not necessary.  I can do that."  Maximus smiled softly.  He reached for the dripping rag, only to have it pulled away once more by the insistant Marena.

"I will get in trouble if I do not follow my master's orders,"  Marena whispered.  She trembled in front of him, desperately seeking the courage to remove the linen barrier.  She reached out to him, only to gasp as he gripped her thin wrist.  The rough callouses on his hands rasped her skin erotically, sending frissons of electricity throughout her body.  She tensed visibly at his forceful touch.

"I said no."  Maximus winced at her response to his ragged tone.  He hadn't meant to be so harsh with her.  She shrank back from him and shivered.  "Marena, I'm sorry....I just can't explain to you right now."

Marena turned her back upon him.  She couldn't bear to gaze upon this proud man who was to soon suffer the humiliation that Marcus Camillus would visit upon him.  "You do not know why you are here?"  She murmured so low Maximus could barely hear her.

He slid behind her, resting one large hand on her shoulder in a familiar gesture.  He couldn't understand how he could reach out to another woman.  He berated himself on two accounts:  he could not keep his baser instincts under his iron control and he felt the memory of his wife was being sullied, forgotten in his growing desire to hold this woman close.  Maximus chalked it up to simply being without warm feminine flesh sharing his bed for so long, anything deeper he forbade himself to feel.

Marena stood there, stiff as a column, afraid to give into her own wants.  His hand gave soothing warmth, a gentle promise of so much more.  She was so frightened, was ashamed of herself since the day of her enslavement.  The brief respite with his strength surrounding her was too much to willing give up.  His warm breath caressed the pink shell of her ear as he whispered, "I have an idea...."  She shuddered, involuntarily leaning back against him.

Maximus groaned as he felt the softness of her form resting flush to him.  Her silky hair was dark against his sun-tanned skin, it felt heavenly as it brushed his chin and adam's apple.  He held her close for what seemed like eternity, in reality only a moment in time.   Using his hands, Maximus gently turned Marena to face him.  He could read the fear in her eyes as she gazed up innocently at him.  He wanted to pull her into his arms, soothe the frightened little girl inside the devastatingly attractive woman, promise her everything was going to be fine.

Throwing herself against him, Marena used her momentum to catch Maximus off-guard.  She pressed her satiny lips to him in a light, untutored kiss.  He was unresponsive to her amorous advance, she was crushed by her shameless act.  They locked gazes for a moment, before her pitiful apology spilled out.  "I....I....never meant....."

"Shhh.."  He pressed one finger to her rosy lips, absently tracing the outline.  "It's not your fault." He closed his eyes, remembering the far-off memories of he and his wife lying in a field filled with sweet summer wheat.   The day his son was conceived..... When he opened his eyes, the tell-tale sign of tears glittered there.  One trickled slowly down his cheek as he remembered his devastation at discovering them burned and crucified.

Marena slid her finger up to catch the tear with its tip.  His sooty lashes fanned across his cheeks as she watched him fight valiantly not to cry, respond in some way to her simple, caring gesture.  "What makes you sad?"  Marena asked gently as her fingers cupped his ruggedly handsome face.

Maximus didn't know how to begin.  "I wasn't always a slave."

"Most of us here weren't."

He laughed, almost mockingly.  Marena withdrew her touch, angry that he would treat her so poorly.  He took her hand in his, stroking the webbing between her fingers absently as he continued.  "I do not laugh at you, little one...just the situation I now find myself in.  Did you know, I was once a great general?"

Marena believed him, she shooked her head slowly in the affirmative.

"For Roma."

Her eyes widened, curiosity glimmered on her face.  "Then how..."

"I was betrayed by the new Emperor.  My family, my wife and son, were killed.  I escaped the Army, only to be captured as a slave."

"You lost your entire family???"

Maximus nodded.  Marena simply stated.  "You grieve for them."

"I grieve for them, yes.  But I grieve for many other things: a loss of an old man's dream, my freedom, the fact you and so many like you are even here."

"You can not carry the weight of the world upon your shoulders, Maximus the general."

"Only the Roman Empire."

Gazing down into Marena's amethyst eyes, Maximus lost himself for a split second and lowered his head to hers.  His mouth found her soft lips and brushed across them gently.  Nibbling, tasting, he played with the pouty skin.  Marena's indrawn breath allowed him the entrance he sought to deepen the kiss.

Honey sweet, her taste was unique and achingly familiar at the same time.  Marena closed her eyes, allowing the strange, erotic invasion of her mouth.  His tongue darted inside the warm cavern, flicking this way and that.

His hands pulled her close to his body, she could feel the taut muscles through the material of her work shift.  Her hands traced the defined musculature of his back, sensing them bunch and flex as he pulled her closer.  An animal growl reverberated in his throat.

The door to the room swung open wide.....

Marcus Camillus, the rotund gentleman from Maximus' entrance into the estate, stood there,surrounded by several other high dignitaries and Senators.  They all carried the same expression of lascivious stupor smeared across their inebriated faces.

"Well, well, well. It looks like our randy fighter is already warming up.  We could be in for a real treat."

Marena cringed behind Maximus, unsure of what Camillus had in mind, but quite certain it did not bode well for either one of them.

"The fellow's brought his sword along with him," cracked one of the other drunkards.  If Maximus had met the bastard on the streets, he would have dropped him where he stood.  But descretion is the better part of valor....he would not be responsible for risking Marena's life, even if he didn't care too much about his own.

Camillus' two hulking guards grabbed and held Maximus while Marcus turned his regard to Marena.  He roughly grabbed one plump breast in his pudgy hand and twisted it painfully.  Maximus struggled against his captors, trying desperately to pull Marena to safety.  Marena grimaced in agony and shame at her master's aggressive caress.

"One thing I'm sure my little sea star did not tell you, Spaniard, is that she is an untried maiden.  Or at least she was when I bought her."  Camillus laughed harshly.  Marena reddened in embarrassment at both the exposure of her private existance and the memory of the degrading examination she had been forced to undergo at the slave markets.

Maximus silently railed at himself for not recognizing for himself that she was an innocent.  He certainly would not have....well, his thoughts were bad enough.

"I think this eve would be a good time to break her in?"  Camillus leered at the girl, but watched Maximus' expression.  "What say you about that, gladiator?"

"I say only the lowest of the low would take advantage of an innocent young woman.  A man with no honor," Maximus growled back between gritted teeth.

"Interesting you say that.  I wonder if your tune will change as you will be the one performing....the deflowering."

Holding on all this time

Lying here in your arms

Knowing she's (he's) in your mind

But I keep hoping some day

That you'll see the light

Let be me tonight

Don't close your eyes.

The silence in the room was palpable as Maximus squared off with Camillus, who was quite confident about his sudden change in plans.  Anything to break this man who stood so majestically before him.  Maximus stiffened visibly at the fat old man's announcement.  "I won't do it."  He knew that the rotund patrician would not make the mistake of killing him, he was too valuable as a gladiator for him to justify the cost.  But defiling a woman was against his nature, he would rather face any sort of torture or denegration to spare Marena.

"You forget your place, Spaniard.  You have no say in the matter."  Camillus turned to stroke the cheek of Marena, who quivered with fright and embarassment.  She could not ......well, she couldn't even bring herself to think about it.  She fought the urge to jerk her head away from the oily caress of Camillus for she knew that it would only bring more severe retribution with it.  "My dear, oh how I have looked forward to this day.  Just the spectacle my friends and I deserve, don't you think?"  He cast a bleary-eyed leer down her shapely figure, making Marena want cower in the corner, anything to flee his wretched gaze.  "Marena, go to Drusa and tell her you need more....scintillating attire."  As Marena hurried from the room, receiving a lurid slap to the bottom in process, she cast a rueful glance in Maximus' direction.

"Now that she is gone, Spaniard, you and I have something to discuss."

"I have nothing to say to you, except for 'Go fuck yourself.'"  That little comment earned a nice sharply painful jab to the abdomen that almost forced him to bend double.

"That is not what I want to hear.  You are here, you might as well relax and enjoy yourself while you can."  The two guards restrained Maximus while Camillus came nose to nose with him.  Well, not quite nose to nose, because Camillus was considerably shorter than Maximus.

"Understand this and understand it well, I do not like slaves who think to dictate what their purpose in life is to be.  It is what I have dictated for them.  I have purchased you for the weekend to do which whatever I so please and if that means rutting upon that wench or pleasuring me in some fashion, you will do so.  If you do not, I will kill the girl before your eyes and you will be punished accordingly before you return to the arena.  You will wish the beast had pulled you apart by the time I am through with you if you choose to defy me.  Is that clear?"

No answer, just Maximus' fiercely hooded gaze.  One of the guards yanked his head back by his short dark hair.

"Do I make myself clear, Spaniard?"

Through gritted teeth, Maximus ground out his response,  "Perfectly."

"Good.  I am glad we understand each other."  Camillus turned to leave and as if he had forgotten something, turned back around to face Maximus.  "Relax and enjoy it."  Maximus tensed as if he was preparing to lunge at the son of a bitch but the guards tightened their steely grip, reminding him at the moment he was defenseless.

As soon as Camillus left, the guards also soon retreated, only to park their backsides on either side of the bedroom door.  This left Maximus alone in the room.  He berated himself once again for even getting in this situation in the first place.  The concept of slavery, the lack of choice and the forced confinement were an anathema to him.  For what seemed like the infinite time, he cursed Commodus for his actions.  But then the bastard didn't even realize the true hell he had put Maximus through yet.  Maximus had vowed, however, to face Commodus some day and exact the terror upon his body and mind, that the young man had wreaked upon Maximus' soul.

How could he be expected to.... perform like that?  Granted Marena was a beautiful woman and he had felt some sort of attraction to her, but that wasn't the point.  He had never been the kind of man to publicize that which was intimately private.  Even his wife had laughed as his somewhat 'prudish' nature.  A hollow ache washed through him as he thought about her laugh, the curves of her body, the nights they had spent together and how he had wished for so many more, not just in years but he wept for the time they had lost together in his days on the frontier.  He shook his head, trying clear away the cobwebs of memories that had lodged themselves there.

And then there was a question of Marena.  She was innocent, how could he ......Maximus groaned to himself.  He had never forced his attentions on a woman, he wasn't about to start now.  But he was also deadly sure that the young woman's life hung in the balance with his decision.

Marena was tugging on the last of diaphanous drapery that clung to every supple curve of her body.  Drusa sat back and watched the nervousness that flickered across Marena's face as she dressed for her part in tonight's festivities.  Drusa had worked for Camillus long enough that nothing he did for entertainment was new, she was just glad that she was too old and worn to use anymore.

"Marena, do not fret.  He is a strong handsome man, with a kind look about him."

"Drusa, he is kind.  I have spoken with him."

"Then what are you so anxious about?"

"I do not want to do this in front of those..... those..... men out there.  I want to choose the man I lay down with, not whomever Camillus selects as some form of entertainment for his friends."

"As a slave you don't get that option, my dear.  And as far as choices go, Camillus could have done a whole lot worse."

Maximus was brought out by the two guards, his leg shackles had been shed long ago, but his wrists were still bound.  One guard led him to several pillows and cushions piled high upon the marble floor of the great room.  Camillus gestured for Maximus to kneel down upon the cushions while he and his friends collaborated.  Maximus scanned the room, hoping fervently for a last minute effort to escape would fill his mind.  He saw Camillus and his companions, a couple of servants hovering diligently and a lone lyre player off to the side - but no sign of Marena.

Camillus gestured for one of the servants, to whom he whispered a command and the servant retreated into another room of the main one.  A few moments later the lyre player began playing a lovely, but agonizingly sad tune upon his instrument.  The suspense grated upon Maximus' already frayed nerves.

Marena stepped out from behind one of the doors and padded barefoot across the cold marble tiles.  Maximus' aquamarine eyes widened as he took in the exquisite vision before him.  It didn't even appear to be the same frightened disheveled girl that had kissed him just moments earlier.  Her dark hair was artfully arranged in curls about her beautiful face, her delectable body was swathed only in sheer scarves that floated as she walked toward him.  Her startling amethyst eyes were starkly outlined with kohl, making them appear that much more enticing and luminous.

Marena gazed upon Maximus's scantily clad form.  His tanned skin stretched tautly over developed muscles.  She could see him visibly quiver as his sparkling blue eyes stared at her.  She wanted to touch him but didn't know where to begin.

They stood a breath apart, silently gazing upon one another, before Camillus' annoying voice pierced the silence.  "Get on with the show." He so rudely demanded.

Maximus snapped out his reverie and pulled the girl into his arms.  His head lowered to hers as his arms tightened around her.......

Let it be me

Don't pretend it's her (him)

In some fantasy

Darling, just once

Let yesterday go

And you'll find more love than you'll ever know

Just hold me tight

When you hold me tonight

And don't close your eyes

Maximus tuned out everything around them.  It was just the two of them in that single moment in time.  His dark lashes fluttered closed, his last brief memory was of her wide amethyst eyes staring back at him in disbelief.  His lips pressed tentatively against her mouth, then with increasing pressure.  Marena slowly relaxed in his arms as his mouth subtly seduced her entire body from that one point of contact.  She balanced her hands upon his shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch and ripple beneath the smoothly tanned bare skin.  The heat from his body was overwhelming, it felt as though he was searing her to the core of her being.

Marena lightly traced her fingertips over his well-formed biceps, memorizing every dip and curve in the skin.  His hands tightened about her waist, pulling up flush with his body suggestively.  Somewhere in the fog of her mind she could her the grunts and bits of conversation between Camillus and his cronies.  She stiffened for a moment, the realization that they had an audience for such an intimate act made her freeze.  Maximus released his control of her mouth and opened his aquamarine eyes to stare down at her.  He suddenly realized what had distracted Marena.  "Marena, ignore them.  Do not give them the satisfaction of letting them get to you."

"I think they are getting their satisfaction."

"Only if you let them humiliate you," Maximus reasoned.  He stroked her long, dark hair, his blunt hands ensnaring in the curls as he brushed them from her shoulder.  Nuzzling her neck, the exotic scent of her perfume, even her deeper essence, stirred his blood.

"They have already done that," Marena whispered.

Maximus withdrew and stared at her for a brief moment, trying to read her enigmatic expression.  "I will not force you if you do not want me."  The tone of his voice was deep, husky with arousal.

"They will kill you and me if we do not.  I will not have your life on my hands."  Marena stroked the back of his neck gently, tugging on the ends of his closely cropped hair. Standing on tiptoes, she licked the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue.  His mouth came crashing down on hers, his tongue darting possessively into the dark, moist recesses.  Her fingers clutched his broad shoulders as she could taste the saltiness of her silent tears mingling upon their lips.

Maximus' hands sought whatever mechanism held her diaphanous robes together.  Frustrated, he finally gripped the material in both hands and hastily ripped them apart in order to sate his hunger with her body.  His vibrant eyes followed the curves of her body, her lush breasts, tapered waist and softly flared hips.  The midnight color of the curls at the apex of her thighs was identical to the main of hair she carried atop her head.  He groaned as his iron control was stretched to the breaking point, but he refrained from touching her there quite yet.

He involuntarily summoned the vision of his wedding night, his wife as untried as Marena.  He remember with crystal clarity his nervous hesitation at even caressing her untutored body.  But her enthusiasm made up for it many times over.  His own tears threatened to fall at the bittersweet memory of his beloved wife, now dead and buried along side his son in the gardens of his former estate.  Marena saw the glittering tears welling in his eyes, remembering what he had said about his family.

"Please, don't close your eyes," she whispered in his ear as her hands traced the muscles of his upper body.  "Don't pretend I'm her.  Let it be me that you are with tonight and I can live with myself when you are gone."  Maximus embraced her tightly against him, vowing to himself to carry out her minor request even though he knew it would one of the hardest thingshe had ever done.

He lowered her the cushions that were piled upon the marble floor, his hands found their way to her full breasts immediately.  Maximus kissed her as if he had been starving for eternity and now, having been offered sustenance, was heartily determine to partake of the spread before him.  He bemoaned the callouses upon his hands, put there by the rigorous life of a soldier turned gladiator.  She didn't seem to notice their rough texture as his fingers splayed across her porcelain flesh.  Marena closed her eyes, her head lolling back on the pillow as he played with her nipples, deftly drawing them into turgid peaks.

Maximus' mouth left hers, burning a trail down the column of her throat, past her collarbone in a beeline to her breast, where he began to suckle intensely.  Marena was overwhelmed by the sensations flowing through her body, it was as if very nerve was on fire.  As his body insistantly pressed against hers, she could feel the hardness of his erection straining against the skimpy loincloth he still wore.  The thought crossed her mind:  Would he object to me removing it now?   She giggled silently, but her body shook with the laughter.

Marena could tell that Maximus was confused by her response, she only hoped she would get an opportunity to tell him later.  It was hard to get her wayward mind back upon the matter at hand, his hands and mouth were wreaking way too much havoc on her body.  She allowed her hand to find the fastening of his loincloth, Maximus wasn't paying a great deal of attention at the moment.  His mind was on other matters, his powers of concentration were admirable in Marena's estimation.

Maximus caressed the soft slenderness of her thigh lightly with his fingertips, his questing mouth still firmly afixed to her delicious breast.  The heat was building in his loins, as well, a scalding pressure that he knew would in a matter of moments be too heady to deny.  He subconsciously felt her small  hands fumbling with the fastenings of his loincloth.  He started suddenly as the cloth fell away, exposing his taut manhood to the open air and her heated gaze.

There wasn't any of the uncomfortable embarrassment that both of them had anticipated.  Marena simply traced the fine musculature of his erection, watching avidly for the changes in his facial expression.  It jerked involuntarily, she withdrew her hand for a brief moment out of surprise.  He winced as she continued her delicate exploration, sucking in a sharp breath as her fingernails ever so gently scraped across the rosy head.

With one hand he fondled her ripe breast, with the other he explored her abdomen, lingering for an instant at her navel, before continuing on to the tops of her thighs once again.  Maximus covered the mound gently, his thumb seeking the nub of her desire.  He drew back the folds, his thumb rocking back and forth against the swollen button with excruciating slowness.  His long fingers, first one, then two, delved into the warm, moist cavern between her legs.

Marena's breathing sped up, she tried to pull away from his invasive persuasion, the stretching sensation from his fingers startling her intensely.  She had never expected something so strange and desireable.  It was like liquid fire, a most pleasureable liquid fire that made her body arch and writhe against the hand that caressed her.

His eyes were closed, his breathing increasingly hoarse as he slid his mouth and unshaven jaw along the sensitive chord on the side of her neck.  Maximus held her close, Marena felt the enormity of his maleness protruding against her abdomen, while his fingers continued their exploration of her sheath.  He began to move them in and out in a gentler approximation of what would happen when he took her completely.

With a sound resembling a moaning sob, she rocked against the inexorable motion of his hand and completely surrendered to the wonderful quivering rapture that he had built within her like a carefully stoked fire.  The shudders wracked her body as the sensations washed over her in waves.  He was still tightly snug next to her, half covering her body with his.

His eyes asked her silently if she was ready for him, she nodded in the affirmative as she pulled his head down towards hers to claim a kiss.  Maximus deepened the kiss as his lean body slipped between her thighs, his stiffened shaft thrusting out dramatically as if it was a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet.  The head slid slowly inside, he wanted her to adjust to the feel of him.  The stretching sensation had returned, only this time it was more insistant against her mound.

Marena drew in a deep breath as he thrust forward in a rapid piercing.  Biting her lip against the brief, but expected pain, he trying to swallow her cries with his mouth.  She began moving against him, her hips undulating in an awkward rhythm beneath his weight.  Maximus fought to hold her still, trying to calm her gyrations, knowing that his control would not last against the erotic motions.  The pain ebbed, replaced now by the beginnings of the tingling sensations his fingers had so recently brought on.

"Marena, please...."  Maximus tried to hold her hips, he groaned as her tight channel pulsed around him, tugging at him like a milkmaid's hands.

He abruptly gave up and thrust deeply, rapidly, bringing both of them to the brink of ecstacy once again.  Marena drowned in the waves of pleasure, her body wracked with the muscle contractions of her orgasm.  Maximus succintly followed her, one last thrust and his penis contracted within body, his seed splashing against the sides of her channel.  His body tremored uncontrollably as the brilliance of his climax shattered before his eyes.  Collapsing atop her, he wrapped his arms around her fragile body.

The raucous laughter and cheers from the audience brought the couple back into reality.  Maximus hated Camillus with a passion that was only surpassed by his loathing for Commodus.  Marena slunk down behind Maximus for a modicum of decency, he fiercely protective of her.  Camillus simply winked at Maximus, as if sharing some sort of secret masculine joke.  Then he did the next most decent thing he could have done: he led his drunken comrades out of the main room for the night.

Maximus' blue eyes burned with an eerie light.  He slowly withdrew from Marena, pushing her riot of curls away from her anguished face.  She sat up to face him, wanting so to fall into his arms once again but knowing it was better this way.  His voice sounded foreign, almost rusty as if he hadn't used it in quite some time.  "Marena.."

"Maximus, don't.  I know what happens now.  You will leave and I stay here.  Please let's say goodbye now."  She gazed up at him, drinking in his ruggedly handsome face and god-like body.  His heart was breaking for a second time to watch her amethyst eyes mist with unshed tears.

He knelt down and took one delicate hand in his rough one.  He smiled a genuine smile, briefly overwhelmed by the foreign feeling of the action.  "If you need ...anything, get a message to me at the gladiator quarters.  Ask for the Spaniard, they'll know how to find me."

The guards entered the room and told him to dress, they would be returning him to the slave pens now.  He slipped on his tunic with Marena's help, the guards roughly shackled him for transport.  He turned to leave, then as if he had forgotten something, he turned to her.  Maximus cupped her face with his manacled hands and pressed a tender parting kiss to her swollen lips.  "Thank you," he murmured before the guards led him off to the awaiting cart.

"So how did it go with the rich widow, Spaniard?"  Haken's incessant curiosity was getting on Maximus' last nerve.  Juba had sensed something different about his comrade in arms, but had not wanted to pry into his private life.  He knew Maximus was an intensely private person and he respected that.

Maximus simply ignored the obnoxious German who was out to make an ass out of himself today.  He smiled inwardly as he thought of the experience with Marena, looking back on it he wouldn't have changed it for the world.

His dreams had been free of his wife.  Maybe he was ready to move on with certain aspects of his life.

                            THE END