Lucilla’s husband, Quintus, was a towering, hairy pillar of a man, made almost entirely of muscle with a layer of fat overtop. Though a shrewd businessman and by no means stupid, he often proved utterly unwilling to rein in his bestial urges, pawing at her heavy breasts, slapping her wide ass in front of their guests, interrupting her in mid sentence to grab her vulva. Though she would never admit to enjoying being manhandled like a common fellatrix, his attention, combined with their frequent, vigorous coupling, served as a welcome reminder that even after she had borne him three children, he still desired her. But apparently, she wasn’t all he desired. Eudane, one of the slaves, mentioned while she was doing up Lucilla’s hair that she’d spotted Quintus sodomizing Lukuas, a recently purchased house boy of about 17. Apparently no longer content to merely expend his virility on her, he’d taken to fucking the young Jewish slave. Not content to be sidelined by some newly bought fuckboy, she confronted her husband, who proved more than amenable to a compromise. Quintus divested himself of his toga, while his wife sat naked on the edge of the bed. Seeing her nude would normally be enough to lure him to bed with her, but currently his attention was focused on the slave he’d admitted to the bedroom. Lukuas sank to his knees, knowing what was expected of him. Blushing furiously, the timid slave opened his mouth to admit his master’s wide, greasy cock. In no mood for foreplay, the man placed his hands on the back of Lukuas’ head and stuffed his face with dick. The lad gagged on the glans at first, but soon was obediently sucking with practiced bobs of his head. Quintus encouraged him roughly with a hand fisted in his hair. Lucilla sat forward, pressing her legs together and watching the house boy choke down her husband’s penis, listening to the audible glugging sound of the slave taking the dick in the back of his throat, the pater familias’ hairy balls slapping against the youth’s smooth chin. Lucilla was clearly not the only one excited, Lukuas was fondling his own erection as he sucked, the oddly bare head poking out from under his tunic. He serviced his master until he was practically blue in the face, eyes watering. Lucilla rubbed her thighs together and bit her lip when her husband grunted, held the slave’s head in place and came in his mouth. Lukuas’ throat worked as he dutifully swallowed, and he kept sucking until Quintus pulled out, squirting a jet of semen across the bridge of the slave boy’s nose. The man groaned, pumped his fat dick and sent a few final drops splattering on the hapless Hebrew’s face. Unable to help himself, the slave continued masturbating, eyes shut in desperate concentration. Quintus shouted, “Look alive,” and cuffed Lukuas upside the head, “you’re here to pleasure us, not yourself!” He hauled the youth to his feet and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pointing at Lucilla. “Attend to my wife, use your tongue, and your hands if you have to. And be quick about it, if you’re still there when I’m ready to go again I’m taking you up the ass.” The boy nodded and climbed onto the bed, red with shame and arousal. Lucilla’s face was burning too, as were other features of her anatomy. She sat back against the mound of cushions piled on the bed, spreading her legs to grant Lukuas access. He looked at her pleadingly. Quintus laughed, “What’s the matter, first cunt you’ve ever seen? Get to work!” It very well might have been, Lucilla realized. She shot her husband a dirty look. Though in no mood to deal with an amateur’s ineptitude, she reasoned through her desire for a speedy climax to decide that if the slave was to be a recurring feature in their bedroom, he’d need to acquire some proficiency servicing her as well as her husband. Moreover, the thought of stalling until Quintus was ready to plow the tender youth’s ass was exciting enough to be worth the frustration. She therefore set herself the task of teaching the blushing neophyte (though no virgin, her husband had seen to that) how to pleasure her. With infinite patience she showed him how to lift her clitoral hood and suck on the swollen bud that made her throw her head back and buck her hips in his face. She educated him on the inner workings of her vagina in between breathy moans, where to curl his fingers for maximum effect while she writhed and clutched at the pillows. The cushion beneath her ass was practically soaked when Quintus bellowed, “Time’s up!” Lukuas looked ready to bolt, but the brute was quick to hold the slender slave in place with the aid of his bulging, hairy muscles. The bed sagged slightly under their combined weight. “Good thing you took your time, I was worried I’d have to take my wife’s ass instead” “Quintus!” Lucilla exclaimed, unsure if she was indignant at the thought of being sodomized, or the thought that her husband might prefer a slave’s anus to her own. Quintus climbed onto the bed, pulling off Lukuas’ tunic. “Come on, dear, don’t tell me none of your highborn friends have mentioned it” “M-master please,” Lukuas begged, almost too embarrassed for words, “I’m not prepared, neither are you.” The oily, hairy Roman mounted the blushing boy, “Nonsense, between my cum and your spit my cock’s plenty wet. Don’t tell me you aren’t loose enough after the last fucking I gave you.” Quintus held the trembling slave with two hands on his hips, pressing the head of his thick penis against his ass. “Unbelievable, the third time and you’re still shaking like a leaf. We’ll have to cure you of that as well.” Lukuas, for his part, tried to hide his face between Lucilla’s legs, as though he’d die of shame. When his master slowly forced his way inside him, however, he couldn’t hide the cry that escaped his mouth. The man groaned in satisfaction, pushing forward until his fat dick was firmly nestled in his slave’s ass. Lukuas continued to emit small, choked sobs, his hands clenching and leaving red marks on the silken pillows of Lucilla’s thighs. “Nobody told you to stop, boy, get back to work on my wife,” Quintus admonished, punctuating his orders with a slap on the ass that resounded with a thunderous crack. The slave looked up at her through eyes wet with tears, then nodded and returned to work servicing her orally. “That’s more like it. Hold his head down, dear, that’s it. You won’t break him.” Satisfied that Lukuas had been adequately stretched to accommodate him, her husband emphasized the last point with a thrust, battering the boy’s bruised hole. The Jew’s cries were muffled as he worked her vagina with his mouth, his master vigorously sodomizing him. Lucilla closed her eyes and leaned back, as Lukuas licked in spite of the brutal thrusts the larger man inflicted on his body. Between her legs, using his mouth and his anus like a good slave, having his holes put to use to pleasure his betters. She curled her toes and came, making a mess of the sheets and the boy’s face. He tried to lift his head and she pushed him back down, forcing him to lick and suck through her first orgasm into her second. She felt him pawing at her thighs and ignored him until it started to hurt. When she released him he gasped for air, then cried out again when her husband rammed him full of dick. Lucilla laid back, spent and satisfied, and listened to the hairy man vigorously bugger his slave. When she opened her eyes and looked again, Lukuas was sobbing into his arm, frantically jerking his prick while Quintus held him down with a hand on the small of his back, fucking him into the bed. The man put his weight on the slave and came in his ass, depositing a thick load of semen deep inside him. Her husband kept thrusting, using the tight ring to milk a few final spurts of seed from his large cock. Lukuas, pinned under his sweaty master, continued sobbing and rutting against the bed, degraded but still desperate for a climax of his own. He came soon after, spilling messily on the sheets and his own stomach. Quintus pulled out, leaving the slave panting, sticky and humiliated. He used Lukuas’ discarded tunic to wipe his genitals down, then flopped down beside his exhausted and thoroughly satisfied wife. “He has a very skilled tongue, that one,” she managed to exclaim, feeling limp and utterly satiated. Quintus turned on his side to scowl at her in mock dismay “Better than my cock?” “Mmmm.” She rolled over and pressed her body to his, tucking her head under his chin. Lukuas was curled up, silently weeping where his master had left him. Quintus pushed him off the bed with a foot. “Get out of here, boy,” the slave stood and sniffled, cum dripping from his abused hole (and not a little from his chest and face). “Rinse that sweet fig of yours so it’s ready when I pluck it again.” Lukuas nodded wretchedly and limped out of the bedroom. “Quintus, dear,” Lucilla pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, “Would you really have taken my rear if he’d finished sooner?” Quintus put an arm around her. “Of course not, I just thought he could use some motivation. Although…” He placed a hand on her sizeable butt, “Your ass would cushion my pelvis far better than his.”