The girls arrive

“We should be preparing ourselves for the festival, John,” said Olivia at last, gently sliding a delicate finger around the contours of my belly and thighs, until my phallus bobbed and jerked into life.

“What need have I to prepare further?” I demanded, taking the priestess in my arms and roughly squeezing her breasts. “I am bathed and I have no clothes other than those that I wore for the battle.”

“But General,” laughed Olivia, squirming in my grasp, “you do not expect me to accompany you dressed in the toga I have worn all day?”

“I don’t think that you have worn it much today,” I countered, smiling at her beautiful nakedness.

“My lady,” came a voice from the doorway, before Olivia could answer me. Standing before us was a delicate young blonde dressed in the simple tunic of a ****. “My lady… Oh!” The newcomer paused in shock at the sight of her mistress naked and being manhandled by a rough soldier, albeit a General.

“What is it, Gabriella?” asked Olivia calmly.

“Well, mistress,” replied the young woman, swallowing nervously, “as its nearly time for the festival, we wondered if you needed some help in preparing yourself and so we took the liberty of bringing a selection of clothing down to the bathhouse, ma’am.”

“Very good, Gabriella,” responded her mistress approvingly. “And who is ‘we’?”

“Me and Martha, ma’am.” With that a stockier dark haired wench, peered round the shoulder of the first. On seeing my hardened cock, her eyes went wide as they feasted on its girth and length.