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Stab me like one of your Latin boys

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Ever since Cesar had befriended Brutus, there was always a sort of tension between them. It was at its peak during long travels between countries when the two camped alone together. The beds they both slept in felt empty but no one dared snuggle close in one bed. But the very idea made their hearts ignite.
On a particular evening, Cesar reclined on his sofa with the works of Socrates on his lap. He reread the same line over and over. He could not focus he felt... Strange. What was this strange feeling?
Brutus swaggered in and seated himself beside Cesar. "Hello." He said in ancient Latin with a smooth husky tone.
Cesar nodded at his greeting.
Brutus shimmied a little closer. "Julius, I-"
Cesar put his finger to his friend's voluptuous lips. "Sh." In a swift motion, Brutus found himself on top of Cesar, Socrates pushed aside.
The two Romans lips crashed together like modern day economy.
Cesar was breathless, his heart leap. "Oh Brutus!" He cried as he rubbed their massive erections together.
The two embraced, sitting up as if Brutus was ready to ride Cesar's enormous dong. Hands grasped backs, tore at ancient roman robes.
Suddenly, Cesar felt a sharp pain in his back. "Oh, Brutus." He sighed. "How did you know I was into knifeplay?"