| Lesbian: First Time: The Conquest of Kallisto (1/5) |
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Megilla removed her heavy bronze helmet. “You fought well!” she exclaimed. “Astoundingly well for a novice.” Demonassa leaned on her lance, her helmet already thrown down, her thick, black, curly hair falling down over her eyes, panting for breath. She brushed her hair back. “I wouldn’t want to fight you with a real one,” she said, pointing to the wooden sword that Megilla held, triumphantly, in her hand, “nor, I think, would half the legions!” Megilla unwound the protective bandaging from her arms and legs, revealing her tanned and heavily muscled frame. She helped her friend remove her bandaging. “I have a long way to go to catch up with you,” Demonassa said, squeezing Megilla’s bicep. “If a sculptor were to copy this, it could be taken as an arm of Hercules!” “Nonsense,” said Megilla. “It’s not nearly hairy enough!” They both laughed. They stripped down to the leather pants and bras that each wore under their linen armour. “Come,” said Megilla, “let us take a swim to get rid of all this sweat.” She led her friend down through a portico of marble columns with a garden at its centre, geometrically trained beds of box and flowering plants around a gently playing fountain. Around the peristyle were placed marble statues of the gods and goddesses: sensual Venus, the folds of her dress clinging to the contours of her body as though wet, and slipping off one arm to reveal her breast; the young Apollo, his face almost feminine in its perfection. Megilla noticed her friend looking at them. “They were collected by my grandfather,” she said. “He was a man of great taste.” “And great wealth, I imagine!” said Demonassa. “That’s true, he was reputed to be the best doctor in the Empire, and was well rewarded for his care of our late Emperor, Hadrian.” The swimming pool was surrounded by another marble portico and overlooked the harbour of Piraeus. Demonassa looked around her, dazzled. Then she had to restrain herself from gasping. Megilla had removed her pants and bra, to reveal a body that was as perfectly hairless as a marble statue. She had already been surprised when she had first realised that Megilla’s head was shaven, and that the elaborate hairstyle that she had worn when they had first met was, in fact, a wig. But now, to see her lower body shaved too…she was embarrassed to remove her own pants, since her own vulva was framed by a luxuriant black bush. She did remove them, though, and they both sank in to the refreshing cold water. They each swam a couple of lengths and then stood upright, facing each other, the cool water lapping around their necks. “Did you say that your husband is a prefect of the cavalry?” Megilla asked. “Yes,” Demonassa responded, “and posted to Britannia, serving on the northern wall. In truth, Megilla, I hardly know him. It is not a real marriage. They say that he sleeps with one of his soldiers, perhaps with more than one. That is his way.” “My steward is the same,” Megilla whispered, conspiratorially, pointing to a bald Syrian man who had arrived at the poolside with two Nubian women, “he picks up boys at the baths. It’s much better for me – I don’t have to worry about being r aped by him – I know some women who live in fear of their own slaves! “Men’s love for men has become quite a fashion |
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Framed by a luxuriant black bush
