Lucilla let her soft, white towel fall to the floor, revealing her lithe, naked body. A little over average height, her frame may have been slight, but it was most certainly feminine, excelling in all of the right places. Her breasts were small but pert, her waist slim, hips pronounced, and legs both long and toned. If truth be told, she belied her forty years. A woman of half her age would have been proud to possess a figure such as hers.

As she eased herself into the hot pool, she felt a moment’s gratitude that she had been born into such luxury. Most citizens, indeed patricians, had to use the public baths. Only a select few had access to such facilities in the privacy of their own homes, and Lucilla was one of them. Not only did her home contain this caldarium, it also boasted a tepidarium and frigidarium, offering her warm and cold alternatives.

Soon, only her head and slender shoulders were visible above the still water. She wore her dark hair tied up, ornate ringlets dropping lazily onto her neck. Her beautiful face was dominated by huge, brown eyes. This face was now a picture of pure contentment.

A fog of steam engulfed the room, which was partially lit by torches that were mounted on the walls. Apart from a faint whirring noise coming from the underfloor piping, there was not a sound to be heard. She closed her eyes, reclined her head onto the tiled edge of the pool, and relaxed, soaking up the tranquility.

The ambience was suddenly interrupted by a crisp, clean splash from the other side of the pool. Lucilla appeared not to notice. Only the sly smile that began creeping over her face suggested she had indeed heard anything.

After a brief pause to soak up one last moment of calm, she looked up. Right on cue, her lover’s head rose out of the water before her.

As he surfaced, he playfully spewed water from his mouth before offering Lucilla a winning smile. The water had matted his short, black hair against his forehead, and he sported a neatly trimmed beard. His lightly tanned face emphasized his white, perfectly shaped teeth, but his most striking features were his eyes, which were brown, warm, and playful.

“You called for me, Mistress,” he said. Despite his apparent confidence, this man was not a Roman patrician, but a slave.

“I did, Ambrosios.” Lucilla had recently begun to take an interest in her slaves’ names, a peculiarity that caused her friends a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

She studied what was visible of the slave’s athletic torso above the water. “It looks like I made the correct decision.”

The slave grinned broadly. Lucilla stood up in the water and wrapped one arm around his slim waist whilst the other cupped the back of his head. She pressed her body against his, and they kissed.

In the weeks since her return to Rome, Lucilla had spent her time perusing the five slaves that her friend Flavius had sent to her. Those slaves were meant to provide her with comfort and help as the rebellion in Campania had forced her to flee back to the capital with few of her possessions. Unbeknown to Flavius, though, her time at her holiday villa had given her a taste for a more intimate relationship with her slaves.

All five of Flavius’ men had appealed to her. All were in their early twenties, athletically built, and handsome; they appeared to be in the prime of their lives. But this one had stood out. Perhaps it was his air of self-assurance or the playful twinkle in his eye? Lucilla couldn’t put her finger on it.

She ran her hand over the slave’s hard, broad shoulders and chest. Slowly, she examined his exquisite physique, poring over every sinewy detail, teasing him, and indeed herself, with what was to come. It caused a shiver of excitement to run through her.

One of Ambrosios’ hands rested on Lucilla’s bottom, whilst the other gently toyed with her left breast. He softly tweaked the nipple, causing a tingle to run down her body toward her sex.

“I have done everything you asked, Mistress. I made sure that all of the other slaves were engaged in their tasks. Your friend Clodia has gone out, as you said she would. We will not be disturbed.”

“Perfect,” Lucilla replied with a mischievous smile. She had waited for this opportunity since her return to Rome. She lowered her hand under the water and purred with approval.

Ambrosios softly guided her back to the side of the pool. He lowered himself into the water and took her left nipple in his mouth. Holding her breast, he gently sucked and teased it with his tongue whilst his other hand cupped her bottom. She in turn gripped his muscular arm with one hand, allowing her other hand to rest against the side of the pool.