***
I was having a wonderful dream. It was the last trip Aurilaine and I had taken together, camping at the base of the Crystal Cliffs on Ellison's World. The rising temperature of the morning made the cliffs sing. Aurilaine was giving me the blowjob of my life, the rising suns creating a crown of white gold around her pale blonde hair, shimmering as her head bobbed up and down on my cock and bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
I woke up as I came. I was not on Ellison's World at the Crystal Cliffs. I was in Rome, in a small suite at Augustus's palace. And it was raven-haired Helen, who I'd saved from certain rape and almost-certain murder on a road outside Rome, and not platinum blonde Aurilaine who smiled at me as she swallowed my load.
"Good morning, Helen. Is it Roman custom to wake up guests by sucking them off?"
"Perhaps," she said. "Besides, I thought I'd pleasure you." Helen looked at me with a mix of impishness and lust. My dick stirred, but would need more time to rise once again. It was really too bad; there was nothing sexier than a freshly-fucked woman and I could feel myself growing fond of Helen.
In between the bouts of sex and a few hours of sleep the night before, we talked and I learned something of Helen's story. It turned out that the lady I'd rescued and delivered to Augustus's household was none other than Cleopatra Selene, daughter of Marc Antony and Cleopatra.
The
Cleopatra. That was 20 years ago. Helen's mother Meriamun had been a slave in the palace at Alexandria and had given birth just a few weeks after Selene and her twin brother Alexander Helios were born. Cleopatra had taken a liking to Meriamun and Helen had grown up alongside her future mistress.
"It's not bad most of the time," Helen said. "But she can be quite the spoiled little bitch. Augustus is trying to marry her off to the King of Numidia. He's finalizing things now."
"Interesting," I said. If I was going to start navigating the shoals of Roman politics, I had to start somewhere. I mentioned something else that had been nagging at me, something confirmed as probable by Maggie. "You look a lot like Selene, you know. Like you could be related."
Helen walked toward a bowl of warm, scented water, her luscious ass swaying as she did. "It's entirely possible we are. Mother suspects I might be Antony's as well. She said he'd stick it in anything and he stuck it in her more than once."
There was a knock on the door. I opened it to find a stone-faced slave with a folded linen bundle.
"Master Tiberius requests you break his fast with him, sir."
"Let him know I will dress and join him momentarily."
The slave left, leaving another slave waiting by the door. The bundle was a particularly nice tunic. With some help from Helen, the scented water helped wash most of the smell of sex off my body.
"Perhaps when you return, we can try the leaping lion," she said.
"Leaping lion?"
The still-naked Helen got on all fours on the bed, raising her ass and swinging it seductively. I smiled.
"We use a canine metaphor where I come from," I said. Helen giggled.
***
The slave at the door took me to the peristyle, a courtyard surrounded by a roofed porch at the center of all Roman houses. Tiberius sat at a small table, a grape in his fingers, staring moodily at the garden in the courtyard. A slightly younger man sat with him. More slaves hovered around, waiting their masters' pleasure.
I sent a mental command to Maggie: "Run a facial recognition on the younger man, along with any available biographical info on him and Tiberius both."
"In a jiffy boss. Some of us got rest last night after all."
"Shut up."
The men rose as I approached. Tiberius and I clasped forearms in the Roman fashion.
"Tiberius, thank you for the invitation," I said. "It's a privilege to greet you properly."
"It is a privilege to thank you properly," he said, "though my stepfather will take care of that soon. Selene is an important member of the household, and it would have been terrible had harm come to her."
Maggie came online. The younger man was Tiberius's brother, Drusus. According to the information Maggie had available, Tiberius was 22, his brother 18. She added, helpfully, that based on the information Helen had given me that she herself was 20. "So she's not jailbait," Maggie said.
I told Tiberius and Drusus something about myself, repeating what I'd told Helen during our pillow talk. I was an exile from a distant land, hoping to make a new life for myself in Rome. All of that had the benefit of being true, minus some details. I figured Helen would be asked to report what I'd told her—it is what I would have done, and I wasn't about to proclaim I was from the future and be treated like some madman or radical prophet. I knew what they did to dangerous prophets here. There was one in Judaea who had an appointment with a cross in about 50 years.
Mostly, we made small talk. It was hard not to like the brothers. Tiberius was on the gloomy side but showed little of the paranoid and cruel man he'd reportedly become in later life. He spoke of preparations underway for an expedition to the east, to deal with Rome's rival Parthia; the burden weighed heavily upon him. Drusus was eager to start his career and squeeze the world by the balls. He reminded me a lot of myself at that age.
When we were finished eating, Tiberius said, "Augustus will receive you at mid-day. Helen knows the way to our baths, if you wish to use them."
"I will. I have formal military dress of my own land, but no proper Roman clothes yet, I'm afraid. I'd planned to purchase some."
"Wear your native dress. Augustus enjoys such things. As to Roman clothes, Drusus or myself can help you. There are any number of tailors hoping to ingratiate themselves."
I returned to my rooms to find Helen laying on the bed, still undressed. Without a word, she rolled onto her stomach and stuck her ass in the air.
"Have you had a chance to recover your energy?" she asked with a sly smile.
"You're about to find out."
