Gladiator

She took one of his hands and led it to her breasts wanting him to touch her more, unwilling to give up a second of contact even as her eyes went to the tray seeing what, if anything was left. She felt his hand moving, massaging, and when she glanced down, she noticed her nipple had tightened into a dark nub. It felt really good and she moaned, licking her lips, looking into his eyes. She wanted to say so many things, and at same time she knew they could be overheard. "I do not suppose you could feed me with your other hand?" she looked at his hand and then at the food attempting to communicate the connection as she reached out for the tray but could not quite reach it. "I have suddenly regained my appetite," she murmured softly letting her hand run along his massive arm, her fingers seeming petite in comparison to his bulging muscles.

Bastion was at first confused by her actions, however that was an emotion he was quickly getting used to around this woman. First she placed his hands on her breasts, a task he gladly took too, but then she motioned towards the food. Perhaps he was not the only one with two desires at once. Nodding sagely, he continued stroking her left breast gently, thumbing her hard pert nipple as he reached down and pulled a bowl of relatively fresh grapes. Maybe a little past their prime, but still soft, juicy, and better than probably any other slave in the pens would be getting. Putting the bowl on the pallet near Margaret's head, he allowed his left hand to roam along her body, stroking the curves of her soft skin as he fed her grapes one at a time. His hand roamed across her tight abs, down into the patch of soft pubic hair where it lingered for a few moments, tracing patterns in the thick brown bush. His fingers ran lightly across the front of the inside of her thigh, down past her knees, and all the way to her ankles without stretching away from her too much. He interspersed every few grapes with a quick kiss on her lips, on her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, her neck, her breasts, her nipples, anywhere that his face leaned in.

As she ate, his hand never stopped its transit across her body, steering clear of her back, not wanting to cause her any pain, Bastion restricted his movements to the front of her form. His fingers dragged along her body, his shortly cropped nails dragging over her nipples, causing a shudder from her. His hand kept its path going until he realized he had fed her the last grape from the bowl.

"Mahr-gah-ret," he said to his lover whose eyes were closed in a dreamy state, "The bowl is empty, would you like something else or," he let the words trail off, his right hand pointing at the food tray while his left continued its course across her flesh.

The roughness of his warrior's hand was more evident on the soft flesh of her breasts and thighs. She was getting used to his simple ways, as he fed her, one grape at a time. The soft fruit burst with juices as she bit into it, tasting the bitter sweetness of fruit just past perfection. It was unlike anything she had ever done or dreamed about, the sweetness of those moments when his hand grazed her body, the other depositing sweet grapes or kisses on her waiting lips. Anyone looking would have seen the happiness that existed between them. They had their own world, their own way of talking, and when the bowl was empty she licked her lips and shook her head.

Margaret did not need anything else to eat or drink, but she still felt shy about expressing her desires, despite his agreeableness and the barrier from the guards. She would have thought it unseemly to take a man's hand and place it upon her soft flesh a few brief weeks ago. Now it seemed perfectly natural, and she licked her lips again tasting the last few juicy drops as she thought about how to proceed.

Her breasts were beginning to feel tender from his continued touch, the nipples hard and tense with excitement. She placed her hand on top of his large paw and guiding him downward. The few times he had touched her down there it had felt really good and as her breasts were ready for a break, she shyly let her hand guide his hand down as she moved in to capture his lips. Margaret loved kissing him; there was always a mix or rough and tender, hunger and desire, want and need that she could not get enough of.

He allowed her to move his hand down her body, across her chest, down her trunk, into the nest of hair between her legs. He kissed her again as she guided him, tasting the slightest hint of grape juices on her lips. She let go of his hand as they reached her cleft. He snaked his right hand around the back of her head again, resting it against the back of her neck, but this time neither pulling nor demanding of her. Just letting it rest there so that one more part of him could be in contact with her.

He had been kneeling on the ground in front of the pallet for a while, resting his muscular buttocks on the backs of his legs. His erection had been semi flaccid, resting against his thick thigh, but when she moved his hand down to her nether lips, it sprang into full attention. Bastion was a bit nervous, although he tried not to let it show. He had never really been this tender with a woman before. Sex for him was usually rather brutal, while he had never raped a woman, it had always been about his needs, regardless of whether he had to pay for it, or it was just some local girl looking to ride the biggest bull in the yard. He had never cared much about the woman's feelings in the past. Even earlier, with Margaret, his passion had been so overwhelming that while being concerned with her feelings, he had not been fully in control of his lust. In the past he had never cared if the woman he was with had managed to climax before or with him. But all of that was in the past. Margaret was something special to him that much he knew. He wanted her to enjoy his touches, his caresses, and his penetrations. He wanted her to enjoy the physical as much as he did.

That thought sobered him slightly. He wanted to be as tender as possible with her, he did not want to hurt her, and he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. The realization of that caused him to wonder what that meant. Was he in love? He thought he was, but did she love him? He hoped so, but could not know. He could not even say more than four or five words to her that she would understand. How could he ask her such things?

His hand paused in its light caressing of her quickly dampening outer lips as he was frozen in horror at the thoughts racing through his brain. What if she did not love him? What if she was just here to claim his seed, to bear a child with the massive man from the north? The what- ifs paralyzed Bastion. He felt as if someone had shot an arrow into his chest and pulled it out, there was a small hollow sensation in his breast as he thought these things.

Margaret must have opened her eyes when he stopped rubbing her, and she looked at him concerned. "Basschun?" she asked followed by more. The look on his face must have concerned her, but her face remained gentle, not worried. She simply placed her hand on his shoulder, and ran it lightly down his arm to his wrist, where she moved his hand gently on her wet mound again.

Bastion put away such thoughts. He prayed that she cared for him as he did her, what else could he do? He continued his tender ministrations on her soft velvety lips. For once in his life, he wished he had soft scribes hands, not these rough calloused warriors paws. Remaining as light as he could, he stroked back and forth along her slick wet lips. Watching her face for signs of pleasure, he continued onwards, guessing as he went along, praying that if he did something she liked, he would be able to read it in her face, and if he did something wrong... well hopefully she would forgive him.

Her eyes opened when his hand stopping caressing her and he looked terrified, she had no idea why. She smiled softly as her left hand slide down his arm again, urging him to continue. Her other hand dropped to his leg feeling the tensed muscles as her hand worked towards his manhood. She knew it would swell without any help, but she wanted to make him feel good. Her hands were not as smooth as a lady's hands might be, but she kept her touch gentle. She hoped to let him know how much she enjoyed his touch.

She bent one knee as his large hand needed more room and she spoke softly, not wishing to attract the notice of the guards. "I do not know what tomorrow might bring so I want to enjoy what time we have now. I know you might prefer a rougher coupling but my body just is not well enough. I hope we are together long enough for me to enjoy the feel of you pinning me to the wall." She licked her lips occasionally, moaning between phrases. "I can not begin to tell you what you mean to me, and how the thought of being separated tears me up inside. I know I am probably just another cow to you, but I hope you feel some special tenderness for me." Margaret sighed in pleasure as his fingers brushed across a tender spot. "I only wish I could tell you how good your hands feel." She smiled up at him and she hoped her face told him what she saw in his own face. There was such adoration in his eyes that it almost made her cry.

Feeling her hand on his manhood made it leap. Her gentle strokes brought it to its full length and girth as hot blood flowed into it, swelling it to his limits. Bastion's desire swelled and lust began to glaze his eyes, his hand moving faster over her wet slit, parting lips, gently nudging a finger into her, rubbing the growing bud that crowned her opening.

His breathing began to grow faster as she stroked him, and he kissed her again and again, each time with more ferociousness and with more hunger. He could now smell her desire, smell the scent of her arousal. It excited him greatly. He had not been able to smell her scent like this in the tub, being surrounded by water. She smelled amazingly erotic to him. All of his concerns and worries dropped away as he became lost in that moment, in that scent, in that look between the two of them.

"Mahr-gah-ret," he spoke to her after a long, hard kiss, "I want to be inside of you again. I want you to ride me, I want your body against mine." His hand continued its momentum, but he shifted slightly on the floor, as if he wanted to get up and join her on the pallet. He loosed a groan, as her ministrations on his cock made him want her more than ever.

She saw him move towards the bed, and while she was pretty much laying on her side realized that for the time being she did not want to be on bottom. The bathtub had been different the feeling of warm water against her skin had been soothing. At the same time she did not wish to fumble and after a few more kisses, she placed her hand on his keeping it there. She shifted and managed to keep touching him as she finally worked her way off the small cot.

Margaret gestured with her head, "You first," until at last it seemed they were thinking the same thing. She let go of him briefly so he could lay down and it was a stretch to kneel over him rather than sitting wrapped around him. She felt his hand move back between her legs and moaned as his eager touch caused pleasurable warmth to spread outward racing along her skin.

She was speechless for a moment and had only let out the softest of moans when it happened. She gazed down at him and whispered a soft, "Thanks," as she guided his throbbing member to her juicy pussy lips. It felt different this time, as there was no water to buoy her body weight. She was more relaxed this time and having her pleasure first certainly helped. She felt the tip slide in with a slurping noise, a sound that excited her as she leaned forward a little. Margaret placed her hands on his chest to steady herself as she slowly worked her way down his shaft, occasionally backing up to find a better position. The sound of her body as it slowly encased him in the background as she moaned.

Bastion understood her nod to the bed; she did not want his weight on top of her. It had been like that with other women also; they feared that his weight would crush them. However he supposed also that with Margaret's wounds, she would not want to lay on her back.

He slid onto the pallet and lay back, keeping one hand on her warm flesh at all times. Not wanting to break contact with her completely, as if she would disappear if he did. Her body seemed so soft and supple under his touch, and he looked forward to having it over him as well.

His rigid cock pointed at the ceiling of the cell as hey settled in, laying on top of the spread out toga that covered his pallet. For a brief moment as Margaret shifted so that she was over him, Bastion noticed the sensation of a single straw of hay poking through the toga and scratching him. A mild irritation that was quickly forgotten as he looked up into Margaret's eyes, noticed her shifting about so that she could get comfortable kneeling above him, straddling his hips.

He moved his hand back to her glisteningly wet lower lips. He rubbed the slit gently, pulling them apart and feeling her slickness under his hand. She let out a barely perceptible moan, and then reached underneath her to grip his cock. He held his breath without realizing it as she guided him into her slowly.

Her body resisted just slightly to his penetration, and she spoke a word to him as she lowered herself slowly onto him. "Yes," he agreed to what he incorrectly assumed was her comment, "take it as slow as you need. I do not mind my dearest Mahr-gah-ret. Take as much time as you want, I will not rush you."

She took her time, placing her hands on his chest, and worked her way slowly down his pole. He bit his lip, knowing she would need the time to adjust, and lay there as still as he could, resisting the urge to buck into her. He ran his hands up and down her arms, rubbing lightly on her shoulders, trying not to brush against any of her wounds.

As she adjusted to his girth he ran his hands lightly across her breasts and down her stomach, trailing off when he reached her brown thatch of hair, then continuing on down her muscular thighs, resting his hands on her knees as she began to move back upwards on his cock.

In the dim light, he looked down between her arms, and saw his cock as she slid back upwards. Noted the slick sheen of her juices on him, and he was aroused even further. The hot wet folds of her cunt slid up till only the head of his cock was engulfed inside of her. Then, rapture, she began her downslide again. His head arched back and he took a deep breath as she slid back down on his cock, all the way until her lips rested at the base of his cock and the hard nub of her womanhood ground into the flesh under his pubic hair.

Gripping her knees tightly in his hands, he swore to whatever gods may be listening that he would not allow himself to release before her this time.

She almost expected him to rise off the cot when she moved up, but he remained motionless, allowing her to set the pace. She moved in slow long slides up and down until her body grew used to the feel and her leg muscles would cooperate without any thought. She moved her hands slightly splaying them across his pectoral muscles, enjoying the look on his face as she picked up the pace. She had ridden horses before and it took only the thought to understand how to use her position to ride him. She leaned in a little so she could move faster, her weight more evenly balanced over her knees, it was a little uncomfortable at first but as his hands stroked her skin any discomfort quickly faded away.

Margaret knew he would not last forever, nor could her body in her current state keep this pace up forever. So she intentionally slowed down, resting against him, catching her breath, and stretching her legs. Her hips wiggled against him and she felt pleasurable tingles and so she worked to repeat the effect, rubbing and pressing against him until her body got the idea.

She was enjoying it so much she did not really notice his groans until after her body shivered in delight. She could finally speak and asked, "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" she slowly pulled away only to feel his hand on her leg and his hips rising with her.

She rode him quite hard at first, it was amazingly pleasurable, but it must have been tiring for her. It was nearly distracting trying to keep his hips relatively still, not wanting to thrust upwards into one of her down strokes, hurting her. But then she seemed to need a rest. After lowering herself completely down onto him, she paused, slightly panting for breath. Bastion watched as she stretched out her legs, shifting her hips. She made a slight face, and then shifted her hips again, grinding her self into him.

She began to repeat it, obviously enjoying it, swishing her hips in circles. He could feel her grinding her crotch into him, picking up speed as she got used to the motion. He watched her in amazement as her eyes closed and she ground into him rhythmically, her breathing coming faster and faster, breasts heaving in and out, and her hair swishing back and forth across her body in its tight, tiny braids.

The feeling on his dick was unlike any other he had felt with a woman before. Her muscles clutched him tightly as she ground her clit into him. Instead of the tight, gripping, up and down motion he had only experienced in the past. This was more like a gripping, and loosening, in time with her gyrations above him. He doubted that it alone would be enough to get him off, but he did not care, Margaret was obviously enjoying it. The look on her face, her body responding to it, was enough for Bastion at the moment.

Another advantage was that since she was focused on her gyrations, he was able to move with her a little bit. Not having to worry about thrusting too deeply, he bucked his hips slowly, regularly as she ground away. He began to swell with the building of an eventual orgasm as he thrust in and out of her. Her breathing had reached a fever pace that signified her nearness, and he began to moan softly in time with her. The heat in his balls building as his cock began to further swell inside of her.

Her pussy began contracting fiercely as the waves of her orgasm crashed against her. Bastion felt a wave of warmth as her juices released onto his cock. Her moans and breathing calmed down as her body trembled. He slowed his small thrusts into her, not wanting to distract her during her sensitive moment.

She looked down at him and asked him something, and began to pull up off of him. He did not want her to dismount, and she did not appear to be in pain, why would she want to get off? He gently put his hand on her leg, and raised his hips upwards as she began to move upwards, imploring silently with his eyes for her to not leave him, for her to bring him to conclusion while he was so close.

Not wanting to hurt her however, he was afraid of thrusting too deeply, or switching positions with her. He did not want to achieve his joy at the cost of her pain. He twitched his hips upwards and downwards slightly, sliding his cock in and out of her soaking wet pussy by only an inch or so, and again implored her to continue with his eyes, adding this time, "Please Mahr-gah-ret my dear, I am very close, please do not stop just yet."

The way he said her name, she knew he was far from being in pain. She smiled and lowered herself upon him; she could tell he had not been thrusting as hard as he could. She could feel him inside her and knew he had not yet experienced release. She took his large hands and ran them up her body to cup her full breasts. She was going to ask him to sit up, but doubted she would get her meaning across. Margaret half closed her eyes and picked a steady pace, that would not tire her too quickly but would hopefully do it for him.