The male body is my gladiatorum. My vanquished have broad, strong shoulders, and I devour the moment in which they sag in ecstatic surrender. I love nothing quite so much in this life as when a man’s reluctance is overpowered by his sheer carnal need. When I’m inside him, and his spine relaxes, and his back arches, and he can’t deny how good it feels. That little, split second where he goes from a rigid combatant to an eager prize.