We were summoned for the exercises. I was to wrestle, and I hoped that I’d draw Victor. He was all bulging muscle and beauty and fluid movement. As I entered the palaestra through the columns, I saw him over to the side with a group of other soldiers, laughing and jesting with them as he removed his breastplate to show rippling muscles and solid abs every bit as sculpted as the armor he had shed. Then went his short sword, followed by his leather skirt, and he stood there in considerable glory, only in his leather sandals, laced up to his knees, the leather bands under his biceps, and a scanty, flesh-colored loin cloth.

I rejoiced when I was told that I had drawn Victor for my wrestling partner, and I quickly stripped down to my loin cloth. We paired off on the ground of the palaestra, with Victor and I given the honored spot in the very center of the field, and, on cue, all of the men began their various assigned games and exercises.

I was no match for Victor, and I didn’t stay on my feet very long. He had me down and we were wrestling vigorously, our arms and legs entwined and our chests heaving mightily. He was straddling my back when I noticed he had gotten very hard and was rubbing his cock up and down the small of my back. I managed to get turned over, so that he knew that I was turned on too. We were all over each other, trying to make it look like a simple wrestling match, but we had reached the point where we were doing the best we could to keep our engorged cocks grinding together through the skimpy material of the loin cloths.

Victor was whispering in my ear that I was one hot young stud, and I rejoiced in this. He wanted me. But he couldn’t want me as much as I wanted him, I was sure.

“That’s some sword you’re carrying,” I hoarsely whispered back to him.

“It’s very much in need a tight sheath,” he answered. “Can you help with that?”

“First chance I get,” I whispered back.

“Cut!” the director commanded, and we all relaxed and stopped whatever we were doing. The other “exercisers” in the arena went back for towels to wipe off the sweat they had built up under the strong lights in Film Studio 21, and the cameras rolled back from the close-up scene they had been filming with the stars in the pillared loggia running along two sides of the palaestra set. Our exercising had just been the backdrop for a movie scene.

“Take twenty,” the director’s assistant yelled to all of the extras, and we started picking up our gear. Some started redressing for the next scene.

“In five behind studio 16,” Victor whispered in my ear, as we disentangled and he started gathering up his Roman soldier’s costume.

I was there in three minutes, but he was already waiting for me, casually leaning against an oil drum, no longer burdened by his camouflage loin cloth, and smoking a cigarette. He flicked the cigarette aside as I came to and knelt in front of him and made love to his thick, pulsating dick.

“We’ve only got fifteen left,” he muttered in a husky voice after I’d worked him up for a few minutes.

And, with that, he pushed me away from his cock