Caracalla

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 that 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.