A Stitch In Time – Chapter 2 – Rome
Introduction:
Making his first trip, Mark, now Marcus Servius, lands outside Rome in the late Republic
He’d been aligned in the chamber so that he’s be facing south when he arrived. Remembering the time constraint, just 15 minutes, he moved to the container. He was already wearing the toga of a Roman citizen. Also sandals on his feet. It was June, the days would be warm, this night a rare cool relief. It would be different in the crowded city. Getting used to the smells, the close humanity, of past times would be one of the difficult parts of his mission. In the box he retrieved the sack containing extra clothing, coins, a knife. To be used for defense, but also to eat. A few other era appropriate personal items. And a note pad and pen. Definitely not to be taken. There was writing on the pad. From Dr. Fargo,
—A brief note on the effects of your travel. You’ve now gone further back in time than anyone. Good luck. No change here yet.—
Mark took the pen and added a reply.
—No ill effects. Comfortable. Almost, pleasant. Thank you.—
He left the note, made sure he had everything in the box. Felt along the hem of his toga to confirm his emergency escape device was in place, then closed the box and stepped away. Then he stepped further away. He’d decided to stay and watch as the box left, curious to see what others might experience as he came and went. He waited, the minutes slowly ticking away. Except that he now had no timepiece, no compass, nothing electronic. He would depend on his knowledge of the stars, his own abilities to interact with the local population, to fit in with people of the Roman Republic, and yes, to bed some of their women and hopefully pass on his immunity to the incurable virus. As he was pondering his mission he almost missed it. The crack of lightning drew his attention, then a small flash and the box was gone. He went over to inspect the spot. As with the area where he’d appeared it looked to have been scorched clear. Anyone might think a bolt of lightning had come out of the summer sky and hit a random spot. Mark picked up his sack put it over his shoulder and walked towards the woods. He wanted to be out of sight until he’d decided to make himself known.
Director Wilson stood outside the travel room with Dr. Weston. Fargo came out holding a note,
“He’s there. No problem. Better than we hoped I think.” Weston looked at him,
“Now we wait.” Fargo assured him,
“It won’t be long.”
Mark sat against a tree in the small woods. He’d wait until first light to begin walking towards the city. He tried to rest and dozed off for awhile. The quiet was most noticeable. Some insects. An owl in the distance. More rest, then the sun coming over the hill. Mark gathered his things and walked through the woods to what appeared to be farmland. He found a track and worked his way through a field of grain. He knew the vast amount of grain for the bread Romans depended on came from overseas, from Egypt. Still local farmers grew what they could for themselves and other locals, selling the surplus in the city markets. He came to a small cottage. A young woman was doing laundry.
She turned to look at him, no concern in her eyes. Mark stared at her. She was young, attractive enough. He wondered. Then from behind him.
“Hey you. Yes you. Stop staring at her. She’s my slave, not for you to fuck on your way through.” Mark turned, he saw another woman, older than the first, but likely younger than himself. She was sturdy, strong-limbed and carrying a very sharp looking scythe.
“No, I wasn’t, I’m passing through, to Rome. I was wondering if I could get something to eat.” The woman looked at Mark and continued to look him up and down as she neared. Mark kept an eye on her farm implement. His mission at some risk of ending early. She sniffed at him.
“You smell as if you use the baths. You wear a toga. Yet you’re wandering the country asking for a meal, holding only an old sack. So who are you?” Mark tried out his new name,
“I’m Marcus Servius. I’ve been living up north a bit but I’m on my way to Rome.”
“Aren’t they all.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Everyone passing through. Most of them smelly and poor and still looking to fuck me and take my land. They’re all just on their way to Rome. So what do you do, what will you do in Rome Marcus Servius?”
“I fix things.”
“Fix things.”
“Yes. Tools, wagons, furniture, most anything.”
“Broken hearts?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Come in out of the sun. We’ll eat. I’ll tell you my sad story. You can tell yours if you choose. I’m Sabina, welcome.”
They entered the small house. It was pleasant, if plain. No evident feminine touches as Mark would think of them. Sabina called to her slave girl and asked her to bring food. They shared bread and a kind of gruel most likely made from the surrounding fields. Sabina ate quietly as she kept an eye on Mark. He noted that a sharp knife was within easy reach.
“Don’t think I don’t see you eyeing the girl. Her name is Phyllis, but I don’t whore her out as some do.”
“She’s pretty, but I wasn’t looking to..”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those who play in the theater and suck cocks? Hah, just my luck.”
“No, no I don’t mean that.” She just looked at and nodded. Then I learned her story.
“I married a brave centurian, just back from the Gallic Wars. He served closely with that bastard Caesar.” She noted my reaction. I had merely had a momentary shock from first hearing the name of one of the most famous men in history, casually tossed out by a contemporary. She thought maybe her blasphemy had cause my reaction. “Report me if you like. I’ll stick this knife in his throat.”
“What did Caesar do to you?”
“My husband Decimus a brave and loyal soldier came back and was alloted this land. He asked to marry me, a farm girl. We were happy. Then Caesar”, here she spit on the ground, “called him back for one more fight.” Now this tough looking woman sniffled a bit. “He never returned. He was killed in some forest. I say prayers to the gods that Caesar receives his due from Pompey, if her ever returns. Now here I am, an old woman with a farm, no heir and an endless string of smelly old men looking to fuck me and take it.”
Mark realized that in this time period 25 or so was old. He looked at her, raven black hair tied back, a loose fitting work shift. Hands worn from hard work. Aging before her time.
“You’re not so old. Have there been no suitable men?”
“Ah.” She spit on the ground again. Then she said something in a dialect with which he was not familiar. He took it all in. “An old curse, from where I come from. Up in the hills. That’s the other problem. I am not a proper Roman woman.”
“I see.”
“Do you boy?” Another reminder. He was likely to be take for a younger age than he was. She took his hand and turned it over. “Not very rough for a man who fixes things.” Mark had spent some time practicing various manual skills. It was thought better that he mix with the regular plebians than with the more learned elite where he might expose himself for knowing more than he should.
“I had a tutor, for awhile. But I prefer working with broken things.”
“If you stay awhile I have some things on the farm that could use mending. You could work for your food.”
“Thank you.” She was still holding his hand.
“And maybe something in here that could use some mending?” She stood and came around the table, still holding his hand. Mark got up from his seat. “You’re just passing through. You say you are a citizen.”
“I wear the toga.”
“Anyone can WEAR an article of clothing.”
“There are penalties.”
“Anyway, I’m not interested in what’s outside.” She reached between the folds, finding his cock. “But what’s hiding beneath.” She let Mark through the doorway to a small room with a plain bed. Sabina expertly unfolded his toga and soon had Mark naked. Looking down she grinned at his hardening cock. With a shrug, “You’ll do.” She pushed him back on the bed. Letting her own shift fall he could see the strong legs, thick thighs, tight torso and strong arms of a woman who had worked for many years. She sat astride Mark and soon had his cock inside. Then she fucked him. No other word for it. Her legs held him, her thighs squeezed him, her hands gripped his chest and rode him hard. She rode Mark to drive out loneliness, and want for her man and maybe hate for Caesar. And when he came she continued to ride until she felt she’d received whatever she needed.
“You may stay. Mend the tools, mend the fences, fuck me, leave the slave alone. Then you may eat. Now get that cock up again and take me.” They switched positions, Mark touched and felt Sabina’s hard body, soon realizing that the harder he squeezed and the rougher he grabbed her the happier she was. Perhaps love with a Roman Centurian wasn’t flowers and soft kisses. When he was ready, Mark entered her and plunged his cock hard and fast into Sabina. She grunted and growled as he pushed and thrust letting their bodies meet with each. She held him in a crushing hug, as if to squeeze everything from him. She thrashed her head from side to side cumming in her own violent way, then accepted Mark’s own inside her. He held himself there letting his seed have every chance. This lonely daughter of an ancient people possibly saving her unknown future descendents. When he moved alongside Sabina, she looked at Mark,
“I was not always so hard a woman. Perhaps one day I may soften again. Maybe if I had an heir.”
“May the gods look kindly on you.”
“Now, enough of this. We have things to mend, outside.” Mark ended up staying a week with Sabina and Phyllis. He was able to complete her needed tasks and spent their spare time mending her heart and saving humanity. She knew that he would be moving along. There never was a doubt. She assured him,
“I expect nothing of you, Marcus. But if I can show I have Decimus’ heir, no one will challenge me.” He understood. This worked as well as any other option. Still he would send some items out to her from Rome, also to see how everthing progressed. In one of the few times he spoke to Phyllis without Sabina hovering about Mark asked her to send word for him in Rome should anything develop.
“I will do as you ask. There are always travellers passing through.”
“Is Sabina a kind master?”
“As kind as any other. And she protects me.”
“Yes. I know.”
“You are handsome. I would have.” Now Mark blushed. Hardly the man of the world.
“Take care of yourself.” She nodded. He went inside to prepare for the next part of his journey. This was going well, some possible success and he wasn’t even in Rome yet. Mark said goodbye to Sabina. She gave him a loaf of bread and sent him on my way. To Rome. It wasn’t that long of a walk, but 23rd century men were not used to walking, in sandals, for 20 miles, in the mid June sun. He was in good shape but after 10 miles Mark could have sworn a grandmother with a cart passed him. He stopped at a well for water. Then sat to rest his legs. Passersby grumbled that he must be an Equestrian and not used to a little exercise. Mark grunted and got up to continue his journey, picking up his pace for awhile. Rather than enter the city hot and tired Mark rested for the night about 5 miles out with a group of travellers, mostly families who couldn’t push the children any longer.
It was another cool night. The little camp had a small fire and food had been shared. Some families looked askance at Mark, wondering why he’d stopped here rather than continuing on to the city. The quiet was interrupted some hours after everyone had settled down. A muffled scream had broken the low hum of tired, sleeping travellers. Mark woke, a bit confused, but jumped up when he saw a struggle in the shadows. He moved towards the altercation, feeling for the knife concealed in his clothes. He passed a bleeding man, begging,
“Please my daughter, they’re taking her.” Other familes were now securing their members, but two or three other men had decided to see what was happening. When they caught up Mark saw that three men were dragging a young woman, kicking and screaming. He called to them,
“Who are you? Let her go.” The three turned, one had a club, two had knives. The one with the club held the woman by the hair. He replied to Mark,
“If you want her, you come after us.”
“You’re not having anyone.” The two with the knives now spread out coming at Mark from two sides.
“And who are you brave, but stupid, man?”
“Marcus Servius. Now let her go.” They laughed as him as they moved in cautiously. Most of the other men had backed away when they saw the knives. They had their own families to consider. A knife slashed the air across Mark’s middle, he stepped forward and kicked down hard at the attacker’s forward knee, hearing a satisfying crack and a howl of pain. The sides now decidedly more even, he turned and slashed with his own knife, tearing material but not making contact. Facing off with the remaining knife wielder he crouched and prepared his defense. Mark left an opening then deftly sidestepped the thrust and grabbing the man by the wrist, brought the knife arm down across his raised knee, disarming him.
The next thing Mark knew he was lying in the camp looking up at a young woman who was washing his forehead with water.
“Wh-what happened?”
“Sshh my brave hero. The coward holding me hit you from behind with his club. But it was only a club so the other cowards here all jumped him. Now they’re all talking brave with the three tied up. But you, you faced the knives, alone. You’ll be ok, just a bump.”
“Oooh, yes, hurts a bit, thank you. My things?”
“We brought your bag over here to our fire. It’s a cold night, you had no blanket?”
“I thought I would make Rome yesterday.”
“We don’t have extras but you can share mine.”
“No, that’s ok, I wouldn’t want..”
“Ssshh, my family knows I am not the perfect daughter. And you need to stay awake. And I want to thank you.” In the faint glow of the campfire Mark looked up at an oval face, dark eyes, long nose, full lips. Close up she was younger than he’d thought. Younger maybe than he would consider appropriate. But it was a different time. She took his hand and placed it on a bare breast. A heavy full woman’s breast. But high and firm as only the young would have. Her nipple hard and pressing into his hand. She kissed him. He responded. “It’s not every day that the gods send a worthy man to protect a woman like me. I want you to have what they would have taken. Mark felt her shift over him, then the unmistakable feeling of her soft pussy enveloping his cock. She lay atop him and slowly rolled her hips trying not to make noise to awaken the others. Her tight young pussy milked him as he tasted her lips, and her nipples, holding her wide hips as she moved relentlessly over him. Mark sighed as he felt himself grow and fill the woman, whose name he didn’t know. She shivered as she ground herself onto Mark and felt her own release. Then she lay on Mark, kissing his lips quietly while whispering thanks for saving her.
With first light Mark awoke with a headache, a hardon, and his clothes alongside him. Also a naked young woman snuggled up to him. She made a low noise then opened her eyes. “Ahh, it wasn’t a dream. Marcus Servius, the savior of young women did sleep with me. If you can be quiet, we have a little time until the camp is awake.” The woman pushed her backside against Mark’s stiff cock. He leaned back just a bit and pushed it down between her legs. “Mmm there it is.” She shifted her hips and let Mark push up into her. Now he wrapped an arm around her, holding her breast as he pushed up then back down to feel her soft insides again. Mark was enjoying the way her body felt molded to his when she whispered, more urgently, “Hurry.” Mark’s movement became more urgent, thrusting up, and up, squeezing her nipple, thrusting then filling her young pussy with his cum. “Oooh, thank you again.” He kissed her neck, the side of her face, now more clear in the brightening light. “Get dressed, quickly.” Mark pulled his clothes around him, then stood to properly adjust the folds. The woman slipped on her tunic. They move to join her family for a brief meal around the embers of their fire. Mark took her by the arm,
“Your name?”
“Caecilia.”
“Pretty.”
“Me, or my name?”
“Both.” She blushed slightly. Odd Mark thought for a woman who gave herself to a stranger. Still Mark couldn’t complain. He didn’t think it would always be this easy, but his mission was moving along promisingly. At the family circle, Caecilia’s father sat by Mark.
“Thank you for saving my daughter. I tried to stop them but…” Mark noted the bandage on his head and remembered blood the night before.
“I am happy to have helped.”
“Helped? Between bragging about the lot of them bringing down one man, the talk is all about how Marcus Servius faced two men with knives alone, and won.” Mark smiled. Having a good reputation wouldn’t hurt. They discussed their reasons for travelling to Rome, then it was time to make the last few miles. Mark walked near the Caecilia’s family. No one acted as if they had noted his sleeping arrangements for the second part of the night. It wasn’t long before they came over a rise and saw the great city looming before them. Hazy smoke hovered over the famous hills. Soon they could see the walls that had protected the city for centuries, built and rebuilt through the years.
As they approached the Porta Viminalis Mark began noting how the guards questioned the visitors. Mark hoped his dress and story would survive scrutiny. The family was quickly ushered through. The guard on the right stopped Mark.
“And who are you?”
“I’m Marcus Servius, citizen.”
“Do you live here?”
“I’m hoping to.” The guard looked at his companion.
“Servius. An old name, but not one I’m familiar with in the city.” Mark offered further explanation,
“We are an old family that fell on hard times in the past century. My ancestors moved away. I am hoping to restore our name, but must begin simply.” The guards looked him over. The family had stopped inside the gate and turned to watch. Caecelia’s father walked back.
“If I may.”
“Yes old man?”
“This man, may I vouch for him? Last night he fought three men who thought to take away my daughter and do gods knows what.” The guard looked at Mark questioning,
“Is this true. Are you a defender of virtuous women?” From behind Mark the waiting group who had been there the previous night began to murmur. One called out,
“Two of them had knives.” The guard laughed.
“Well then Marcus Servius, citizen and defender of our women, welcome to Rome.” Mark thanked them then walked beneath the great stone gate. He again thanked Caecilia’s father and suggested that perhaps her would see them again. Then walking down the crowded street he made a left into the Subura, becoming engulfed by the humanity of Rome.
Mark knew his time was limited, still he had the need to see the famous sites of the late Republic as they really were. The statues and buildings of the Forum, decorated with color rather than the cold marble left to the modern day. Also, he was determined to hear the great Cicero speak and to see, in person other historical figures. He wouldn’t be able to take notes, but he would attempt to add something to what was known of the city. But first, he found an insula on a street that had shops where objects were bought, fixed and sold. He didn’t need to work for money, but to establish his identity. Mark found a reputable enough establishment and entered, looking for a mid day meal. It was crowded and warm, but the fish and fruits were fresh and tasty. He asked the owner about locals who might be hiring. After being looked over he sent him to a shop over a street run by a cousin. Mark had changed into a more simple tunic to visit the shop.
Aulus looked over the young man his cousin had sent over. He did need more help in his shop as his own son had left on an adventure. Still this unknown Marcus had no reputation.
“Do you drink?” Mark had his answers at the ready,
“Only a little wine, with water.”
“And this is your first day in Rome?”
“In the city, yes.”
“And what do you do in your free time? You won’t be rioting and causing trouble with the other young men?”
“No, I’d like to listen to the speeches in the forum.”
“Hmm, a thinker.”
“But I am good with my hands. Can I show you?” Aulus gave Mark a few items that had come in for repair. Mostly simple, but also a couple with moving parts that needed attention. Two hours later he looked approvingly at Mark’s work.
“You’ll do. Be here tomorrow, early. We take advantage of the early cooler hours, then close during the heat of the afternoon. So don’t be out too late.”
“Thank you.”
Mark spent the rest of the afternoon wandering his new neighborhood. He knew that historically the Subura was where the real action took place. Where the everyday plebians, live, worked, ate and entertained themselves. The rich and famous lived up on the hills. Those who had made something of themselves in various trades lived lower down those hills. The Subura collected the rest. The insulae piled high side by side filled with all manner of humanity. The street levels opened as shops, groceries, taverns, brothels. Mark considered the brothels. They could be dangerous, would lead to a better chance of contracting a disease and more than likely any pregnancy would be aborted. It wasn’t worth the risk so early. There were women to meet who might keep a child and let the immunity spread.
Mark worked at the shop most days, then wandered the Forum many afternoons taking in the sights and sounds, immersing himself in the day to day language of the various classes. Learning another language is one thing, being immersed in it is another. All the accents and dialects used by those coming into the city from afar. Then there was the Greek used by many, and languages he barely recognized. Lost in his wandering he barely noticed when he made contact woth someone. His first move, learned quickly in the Subura, was to check for his change purse. The second was to raise his hands in self defense. The last was a show of surprise when a woman suggested,
“Do I frighten you? Threaten you?” She smiled to show she was kidding. Mark smiled back,
“No, I should have been paying attention. I was surprised. I hope I didn’t bump you too hard?”
“Hardly at all. New to the city? Taking in the activity?”
“Yes. I’ve been here a few weeks. I have little time to look around. So much to see.” The woman looked at the handsome stranger. The quick decision.
“I was born here. I can show you around.” Mark looked at her, healthy looking, even pretty enough.
“That would be wonderful. I am Marcus. And you?”
“Livia. My family owns a market. Freshest produce in the city.”
“I work in the street of smiths. I fix broken things.” Mark followed as Livia led him through the city, pointing out the temples and homes of the wealthy. Mark knew of many of these famous landmarks, but many also no longer existed 2300 years later. They stopped for a bite to eat, then he walked her home. At her family’s small domus they paused at the front door. Livia gave Mark a light kiss and thanked him for the day. Mark offered,
“Can we meet again, maybe go to the theater?” Livia was surprised that a small time worker could afford a night out. Perhaps he came from a more well to do family. She was interested. And he was handsome.
“I would like that. But first you must meet my family. Another time. I will stop by your shop after I’ve spoken to my mother.”
Days passed. Mark didn’t hear from Livia. Then early one afternoon a man appeared at the door. He was accompanied by another large, dark-skinned man. The owner of the shop welcomed the man and asked if he could be of assistance.
“I am Sergius Maius. Do you employ a certain Marcus Servius?”
“Yes. Has he done something to offend you? I don’t believe we’ve don’t repairs for you.”
“He’s done nothing, yet. I wish to speak to him before he does.”
“Marcus, come up here.” Mark was in the back room. He had looked through the curtain and noticed the man speaking to his employer. He’d also noted the large man by the door. He walked through the curtain. “Sergius Maius, Marcus Servius.” Having finished the introductions the shop owner moved to the far side of the shop, seeming to work at a hinge that wouldn’t turn.
“Marcus Servius, were you out walking the city with my daughter Livia?”
“Yes, I had the pleasure of being shown about the city by a woman named Livia.”
“Do you have further intentions?”
“Livia suggested that I meet her family before we attended the theater. She was going tp speak to her mother.”
“Hmm, yes. My wife is a bit of an easy touch. As you know however, being her father, I make the family decisions.”
“As it should be.” Sergius looked over to the shopkeeper.
“This one. Is he a good worker. Does he spend his free time in the taverns?” Moving quickly forward and realizing his own reputation was on the line he assured Sergius,
“He’s a fine worker. Reliable, on time. I’ve never seen him drunk.”
“Really?” Then to Mark, “You will be at our home three nights from now.” Then back to the shopkeeper, “I may have some items I need your services to fix.”
“Thank you, I would be happy to help the Maii.” Mark waited until there exchange was done.
“Thank you. Is there anything I should bring?”
“Just yourself. Sergius Marius entertains his guests.”
In the afternoon of the third day Mark decided to make use of one of the famous baths to ensure he was smelling of the Subura at Livia’s home. Entering, he paid the small fee. A pittance for all but the poorest. He went into the first room and left his toga and underclothes to be laudered. Naked he went into the tepidarium to sweat out the dirt of the day. Looking around he realized that his mission would have been somewhat complicated if circumcism was still a common practice in his day. Mark was soon in his own world trying to ignore all the other naked humanity, all men in this case. When he’d had enough he moved on to have his skin covered in oil then scraped clean. Mark finished with a quick dip in the large pool of the frigidarium before returning for his clothes. He felt refreshed and ready to face Livia’s family.
Mark was at Livia’s house at the correct time. He caught himself before knocking and kicked at the bottom of the door. A slave answered and led him into a small entry way, then down a hallway that opened on to a garden area that let in some late day sunshine. Sergius greeted Mark,
“Welcome to our humble home, let me show you around.”
“Thank you. An honor to be invited.” The domus wasn’t nearly as large as those further up the hills. Still there was the open air central area, decorated with statues and a fountain. There were rooms off to the side for sleeping and a kitchen area to the back. Sergius showed Mark into his study, scrolls of books on shelves behind his desk identified him as a man of business and learning.
“My library. Do you read Marcus?”
“Yes. I can read and write. My father paid for a teacher. He believed in exercising the mind and body.”
“Good. I wasn’t sure since you work as a manual laborer.”
“It seemed the best way to earn a living and make myself known in the city.”
“And your goals?”
“To revive the Servii family name here. We were once a well established family in Rome. It may, take awhile.”
“Yes, it’s not easy to erase the misfortunes of our ancestors. I’ve asked around about you. You are the young man who fought against three to defend a young woman’s honor?”
“Outside the city. In Junius. Yes.”
“Then if you were to attend the theater with my daughter I can expect that she would be safe from ruffians?”
“I would guard her with my life.” Sergius nodded.
“Shall we eat?” He sent a slave to call in the women. Livia’s mother, also named Livia, looked at Mark approvingly. They each reclind on their own small couches to eat, various courses being provided by house slaves. Mark noted that the Marius family had about 5 or 6 slaves performing various duties. Sergius was doing well in his business ventures. The dinner having gone as well as could be hoped Sergius consented to allowing Livia to attend the theater with Mark. Despite Mark’s proven abilities, one of Sergius’ guards would be sent with them.
The visit to Pompey’s Theater was a success. He had procured seats in a respectable area. The show was not memorable, but Livia seemed to enjoy herself. A few more days out together and Livia was able to convince her father that an extra guard wasn’t needed. They went to the forum to hear Cicero prosecute a case. Then one afternoon as they walked down the hill from her home, Livia asked,
“You have your own room?”
“Yes, a few streets from here.”
“Can we visit?” Mark paused. Whatever thoughts of propriety left when he remembered his mission.
“Certainly.” They held hands and with a quick look back turned into the next street. A few more turns and they were at Mark’s insula. “It’s not much, just a plain room.”
“But it’s your room?” He nodded. They slipped up the stairs to the third floor. Inside Livia immediately turned to Mark. “I’ve been waiting to be with you. Without watchful eyes.” She slipped her stola from her shoulders, then let Mark remove her lighter tunic. Her body, young and lithe waited for him. She unraveled his toga, letting her hands expore his body as it was exposed. Then a shy gasp as she saw his firm cock stretching towards her. She lightly held it, bouncing it, a giggle, then she looked up into Mark’s eyes. “I’m not experienced.” Then she kissed him as he led her to his bed. Lying together, Mark touched her pert tits, caressed her slim body, cupped her mound covered with dark hair. Leaning down Mark took a dark nipple between his lips, pressing down, letting his tongue tease her. His fingers, traced lines between her lips, finding her bud, then down. She was wet, ready. Mark propped himself above Livia, coaxed her legs apart and placed his cock at her entrance. She gasped, closed her eyes tightly as he entered, pressing forward, taking her gift, pressing forward, deeper. Livia held tight, her body accepting this handsome strong man. She sighed as she felt his cock pushing deep into her, moving in and out, touching her in places never touched before. When it seemed she could accept him, Mark increased his motions, pushing deep and withdrawing, letting her feel him. She made soft crying noises, gasping for breaths, her legs around him as he pushed all the way in then filled her with his cum. He held himself there ensuring it was all inside Livia.
“Marcus, that was so nice. Can we do it again?”
“I may need to rest just a little.”
“Really?” He rolled off the lay at her side. She got atop him and let him feel her body against him. “How long?”
“With you laying on me like that, not long.” She kissed his face, rubbed herself on him, nibbled at his earlobe. In a few more minutes she noticed a stirring below her.
“Oh good, I feel something.” She kissed his chest, then down to his stomach, then down until she could hold him in her hands. She slid her hand down pulling his foreskin, exposing the sensitive head. His cock hardened from her touch. “It seems you’re ready.” Livia climbed back up and settled herself onto Mark’s cock, letting him slide up into her. She rolled her hips and bounced on him. Mark held her and showed her how to rock on him, controlling how fast and how far her entered her. She enjoyed the control and rode him steadily until he again filled her. “Marcus, stay with me, forever?” For the first time over many centuries, he lied,
“Of course.”
Life now consisted of dreary days of work, afternoons with Livia, and free time at night to continue his mission. Mark met sisters Cornelia Major and Cornelia Minor at a tavern in the Subura. They quickly decided that Mark looked like fun and let him buy them drinks. It took little coaxing to get them back to his room. They were decidedly more experienced than Livia and the older of the two soon had Mark’s cock in her mouth. Her tongue twirled around his cock, flicking at the tip where it poked through. Cornelia Minor, who had the larger breasts had her left tit in Mark’s mouth while she let her free hand explore his body. She looked down at her sister,
“Are you going to keep sucking or can I put it to better use?”
“Oh go ahead, you ride his cock, I’ll ride his tongue.” Rearranging themselves, the younger settled on Mark’s cock and rolled her hips feeling him well inside her. Cornelia the elder had wider hips and settled over Mark’s head letting his tongue find her pussy and begin teasing her as she moved herself over him. The sisters used their hands to play with each other’s tits, while Mark entertained their pussies. Cornelia Major came first grinding herself onto Mark’s tongue then rolling aside to watch her sister work Mark’s cock until her splashed her insides with his cum. When he’d finished she rolled off him and presented herself to her sister who greedily sucked at her sister’s wet cunt licking Mark’s cum, while sucking her sister’s clit. When the younger had also been satisfied they rested awhile then Conrnelia Major got on her hands and knees,
“Fuck me somewhere Marcus, but use some oil if you take my ass.” Mark considered her generous ass, but he did have priorities. Settling in behind her he fed his cock into her wet pussy. She may have been slightly disappointed, but he was soon banging himself hard into the softness of her ass cheeks as he relentlessly plunged into her. She cried to gods Mark didn’t know and begged for more until he released himself into her. The sisters thanked him for a fun evening and were soon on their way.
The next months went on like this until one day while walking through the market Livia said to Mark,
“Marcus, I’ve waited to tell you, but mama is now sure. I am with child.” Mark stopped and looked at her.
“Does your father know?” She nodded yes. “Then I must speak to him. Was he angry?”
“Of course he ranted a bit, but these things happen. It will be alright if you do what you should.”
“Then we’ll be married.” She nodded again, then kissed him.
“That makes me very happy Marcus.” Mark went to see Livia’s father. He wasn’t thrilled, but many young women were with child when they wed. Plans were made and the wedding was held in the Marius domus. Mark and Livia lived together in her parents home as they made longterm plans.
It was now July of Mark’s second year in Rome. He had only two months until he would have to leave. This was going to be more difficult than he had imagined. He realized that he cared for Livia. When he suddenly disappeared she would be devastated.
As the day of departure neared Mark spent any free time he could get alone thinking about his next jump. To make the change a bit easier Mark would be dropping into central Britain shortly after the departure of the Roman armies. The chaos of post Roman Britain with many romanized Britons still living in the country would help Mark fit in. 412 AD would be far enough along that he could use the same name of Marcus Servius. He would also be able to continue using Latin, though with a different accent. Still with the mix of cultures, no one would likely notice. Two years at the beginning of the Dark Ages as people used to call them. Missing would be the cultural world of the Roman Republic. He would jump past the rise of Caesar, the early Emperors, the recent conversion of the Empire to Christianity. One thing would remain the same. The general need of people to expand the population, to pass their children on to future generations.
Two weeks before he would travel Mark told Livia that he would need to return to his home village. She expressed concerns of course but her father explained that a man had certain responsibilities and that word had come, so Mark said, that his father was ill and needed to see him. Mark packed his travel bag and put it into a larger bag Livia prepared for his trip. He told her he expected to be back in a few weeks. He looked at her with some regret and left the domus. The family had been kind to him. He hoped the years ahead would be safe during the trying times as the Republic collapsed and rose again as the Roman Empire. He would never truly know. With a kiss he was gone, making his way up the hills to the gate where he had entered almost 15 months earlier.
Mark walked along the path he had followed into the city. More used to walking now he covered the twenty miles and came to the small farm. Approaching the hut he heard the sound of a crying baby. Sabina answered his knock holding a small baby boy.
“You’ve returned.”
“I’m going home.”
“You could stay here. I could use the help.”
“I must see my family first. May I hold the baby?”
“This is my son, the heir to this farm, he’s named Decimus.”
“His father would be honored.”
“I call him Marcus.”
“As I said.”
“Will you stay awhile? I’ll have Phyllis prepare a meal.”
“Yes I’d like to.” They talked for awhile, Mark gave her a version of his time in Rome, concentrating more on the things he saw. When the baby was settled, Sabina took Mark to her bed. She had all the need of their first encounter. She was still a physical force he remembered, riding him hard, demanding the same in return. When she was satisfied Sabina lay beside Mark and fell into a deep sleep.
Over the next week Mark did some chores around the farm, fixed the leaking roof and mending farm implements. He talked to Phyllis as he worked. This time she was more willing to engage in conversation. She satisfied his curiousity ansering a number of questions.
“I am from an island in Greece. I was captured when the Romans sacked our town. Pompey’s troops brought me to Rome.”
“Do you like it here?”
“Sabina is kind. Demanding, but kind. I like the baby. I dream of having my own.”
“Would you leave here if you could.” Phyllis looked at her feet. She took a deep breath,
“I don’t think so. My family is dead or,” She shrugged her shoulders. Mark thought to himself. Then,
“What if you could buy your freedom?” She gasped,
“I could never earn enough, even saving the little bit I can get from making clothing for sale.”
“Let me talk to Sabina.”
That night after their meal while Mark sat rocking Decimus in his arms he asked Sabina about Phyllis.
“Still thinking about bedding her? I’m sure she’d be a good fuck. Those Greeks are more lusty.”
“Can I buy her freedom?” Sabina looked at him, surprised. Then she told him the amount. He went to his bag. He had left a good amount of coins for Livia. Since he had no further need for 1st century Roman coins he dropped a heavy pouch on the table.
“That’s double her price. I have another bag for her. You can both live here comfortably and raise Decimus.”
“Who did you rob in Rome that you’re running from?”
“This is mine, honestly earned. I have all I need. Will you do it?”
“For Decimus. Yes.” She looked at him shaking her head. Then called, “Phyllis, come here!” The girl broke into tears when she heard what had happened. She hugged Sabina first, then Mark.
Over the next few days Phyllis was happy and cheerful around Mark, now touching his arm as she spoke. Then one night she asked if he’d like to come to her room.
“I asked Sabina for permission.”
“You don’t need to. I did it because I wanted to, not for anything else.”
“I want to do this. Not for anything else.”
“You know I’m leaving?” She shook her head.
“Maybe you’ll leave me a little gift too.” Mark followed Phyllis to her room. She pulled the curtain over, then turned and smiled at him as moonlight came in through the window. When she let her shift fall to the floor Mark could see the slim lines of her form, mere shadows in the pale light. He cupped her small breast, just enough to fill his hand. His other hand slid down her back to caress her butt. She reached down to feel his cock between them. They stood together kissing as their bodies came together. She could feel his cock trapped between them, her breasts pressed against his stomach. They moved to her small bed. Mark lay back and let Phyllis sit atop him and guide his firm cock into her. A change from the aggressive physical sex of Sabina, Phyllis was all soft sensual movements, her hips and ass rocking back and forth over him, her breasts hanging, begging for his attention. He alternately licked and sucked at her nipples as she slid him deep into her, bracing her hands on his shoulders, slow and smooth. When she felt him tense, she sat down on Mark taking him fully as he filled her with his cum. She continued grinding against him, sighing and moaning as she got her satisfaction. They slept until first light. When he saw Sabina in the morning she raised an eyebrow.
“Will you have enough for both of us until you leave?” Mark laughed.
“I will do my best.” Mark was good to his word, keeping both women happy for the next week. When he was sure he had the right night he told Sabina that he must leave that day. She merely nodded. Phyllis was a bit more emotional. When Mark was sure he had only the items to be returned to his time he left walking northeast through the trees. He settled down and waited for the scheduled time.
Mark found the spot, the grass not having grown over completely. He carried his sack and stood in the open field. It felt a little different. He wasn’t standing in a chamber. He heard the buzz and his field outside Rome 54 BC was now rolling hills in 412 AD, so he hoped.
He looked about. No box. Nothing. Just Mark and his sack from Rome. He decided to drop to a knee so no one might see him. He didn’t want to be walking around in case the box showed up. A spark like lighting off to his left. Then it was there. Larger than the first one. They apparently knew where he was. Time to move into another world…
