Date: Tue, 25 Apr 2017 22:42:15 -0400
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 360  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 360
By Rob Williams

CHAPTER 360 – "BROTHERS UNDER THE SKIN"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

As a reward, boss Randy `loans' his lover Bob to Zack.  "The swarthy gypsy
smiled down at his Superman lover lying naked on the bed with the black
leather-master Zack towering over him."  Then it's payback time when
top-man Zack gets spit-roasted.  Sexy blond surfer Jamie services the shaft
of the rugged cop Mark, while the hot mechanic Pablo does the same for his
lover Darius's monster ten-inches.
_____________________________________________________________________


************ In the previous chapter *************

Zack, the macho black construction boss, one of the most self-assured and
respected men of the tribe, had been going through an existential inner
turmoil where he doubted his own manhood.  Doctor Steve, the tribe's
therapist, had described it this way:

"To yourself and to others, Zack, you are defined by your supreme
masculinity.  You are a man's man, strong, handsome, confident – second
to no man.  But, Zack, that's a hard pose to maintain, and doubts sometimes
creep in, almost like a man of religion who, in a moment of weakness,
doubts his faith."

Feeling that he no longer measured up to the other dominant alpha males,
Zack had attacked the tribe's leader Randy.  In so doing he had insulted
all the men of the tribe, whose rules dictated that he must be punished by
all of them, in a feat of endurance that would have tested the staying
power of any man, even one as rugged as Zack.

All the senior men were gathered at Steve's house where Zack was bound in
the basement gym and forced to suffer a serial face-fucking from all the
men in turn.  But when Randy's lover Bob's turn came things changed.  Bob,
the cofounder of the tribe was as macho and dominant as any of them but had
a gentleness of spirt that recoiled at the sight of the muscular black
leather-master bound naked, head bowed in submission, tears streaming down
his cum-splashed face."

When Randy saw Bob's anguish he turned his lover's face toward him and
kissed him.  "Don't worry, buddy, you don't have to do anything. I'll take
care of it.  Don't I always take care of you?"

The rugged gypsy Randy loved Zack like a brother and this whole experience
had been painful for him, watching his super-confident buddy give way to
self-doubt and anger and then pay an agonizing price.  So now Randy
confronted the bound man and, to the gasps of the assembled company, sank
to his knees, looked up at Zack and said, "I love you brother."  He bent
his head and eased Zack's cock into his mouth.

As Zack looked down at Randy's face moving up and down on his cock he knew
what he was witnessing.  This was absolution as only Randy could bestow it
– equal parts forgiveness, admiration and love for a man who had
suffered mightily to prove his manhood and restore his status as one of the
tribe's leaders.

And so the whole gut-wrenching episode was over and the men applauded
Zack's strength and endurance.  As always, they followed Randy's lead and
made their peace with their newly-empowered buddy.  They were also
following Randy's long-established rule that when a man fucks up, he's
punished and that's the end of it. That rocky ship has sailed.  It's all in
the past.

There followed a celebratory dinner given by Steve who described it as "one
of our men-only dinners where we can all now relax and renew our solidarity
and brotherhood."

And in that spirit of brotherhood Randy said, "Hey, Zack, how about next
weekend you and me take our boys fishing up at the lake, just the four of
us?"

"Sounds like a plan, buddy.  Long time since we did that."

"Long time since we did a lot of stuff, Zack," Randy smiled with a roguish
look in his eye.  "Oh, and Bob has something he wants to ask you."

Bob shrugged, "Oh, just an idea I had.  I was wondering if, when we get
back to the house tonight, Zack, you would, er, like to spend the night
sleeping with Randy and me."

"Seriously?" Zack said, casting a glance at Randy who nodded encouragingly.
"Well sure, that sounds great."

"Like I said," Randy grinned, "long time since we did a lot of stuff."
Zack realized there was more to the invitation than met the eye.  It was
Bob's way of putting the final seal of approval on Zack's rehabilitation.

So when the party broke up and they returned to the tribe's house, Zack
went up to the master suite and poked his head in the bedroom door. "Hey
Randy, reporting for duty as ordered."

Randy smiled, "Not an order, buddy.  Be a long time before I try to give
you an order after what happened last time." They could laugh about it now.
"Bob's in the shower – he'll be done soon."

Zack became serious.  "Randy, so much has gone down that I wanna make sure
that we are solid again.  I mean, for a while there I know I lost your
respect and trust.  I want you to be certain you can still trust me
completely."

"I know I can, big guy.  And to prove it I'm gonna entrust you for a while
with the thing that's most precious to me in the world."

At that moment the bathroom door opened and Bob emerged from a cloud of
steam, naked except for a towel wrapped round his waist.  As always when he
saw Bob naked Zack gasped.  There he stood, his spectacular body gleaming
after the shower, his dark hair tousled, a dazzling smile spread over his
Superman features.

Bob walked up to Zack, put his hand behind his head, pulled his face toward
him and kissed him lovingly.  Randy said, "Bob, I was just telling our good
buddy here that I'm gonna trust him with my most precious thing in the
world."

Bob broke away.  "That's right Zack.  It's something we both want."  He
dropped the towel and threw himself on his back on the bed, buck naked.

Zack stared down at Randy's beautiful lover in awe, then turned to Randy.
"You mean ... you're asking me to ... you trust me to ...?"

"Hey, it's what he wanted," Randy shrugged, "and you know I can never
refuse my guy anything.  Oh don't worry, dude, I'll be here watching all
the time – may even grab a piece of the action myself.  I wouldn't miss
this for the world."


********************** CHAPTER 360 **********************

Randy was on top of the world – on top of his world at least.  In
forgiving Zack in such a visually dramatic way Randy had earned the
admiration and respect of the whole tribe and reinforced his already
unassailable status as leader of the tribe.  And now, feeling smug with
more than a touch of arrogance, he had temporarily `offered' (as he would
have called it) his gorgeous lover to Zack.

It was a sort of `droit de seigneur' act where the feudal lord grants his
second-in-command the right to bed the lord's lover.  Of course, on a more
basic level it was Randy giving in to Bob's wishes as he always did.  It
was Bob who had first suggested this, after all, and Randy was on such a
high right now that he felt empowered to grant the man any wish – and he
intended to watch and enjoy the show.

Whenever sex was involved Randy's drink of choice was beer – the two
seemed like a natural fit.  He walked over to the fridge, pulled out a
beer, then sprawled in a chair a few feet away from the bed.  This was
classic Randy, the homoerotic icon of the supreme male – his
self-confidence matching his virile good looks and superb physique.

He was no longer wearing the clothes he had worn at Zack's trial in the
basement – construction gear, his usual greasy, sweaty tank-top, grubby
cargo pants and muddy work boots.  When dinnertime came Bob had insisted
that Randy put on clean jeans and one of Bob's classic white V-neck
T-shirts – Randy's grudging concession to `dressing for dinner'.

Bob had brought the clean clothes with them to Steve's, knowing that it
would never cross Randy's mind.  He'd be content to lounge around dressed
like a sweaty construction worker no matter what the occasion.  And when
Bob had insisted on the clean clothes Randy grinned, "What?  You my mother
or something?"

"Hardly," Bob had smiled, recalling the day he had first seen Randy in the
small run-down bar at the rough end of Hollywood Boulevard, a tough
construction worker with the swarthy look of a gypsy sitting in the gloom
two bar-stools down from him.  He couldn't have looked more different from
the buttoned-down business executive, and Bob couldn't have realized then
that he had fallen in love with the man at that very moment so long ago.

Even now, all cleaned up, Randy didn't look much different from how he had
looked that day in the bar.  He was the kind of man whose rugged
masculinity overpowered even his clothes.

The white shirt stretched over the slabs of his pecs, chest hair showing in
the V-neck, the short sleeves pushed back by his bulging biceps.  The white
shirt contrasted with his swarthy skin and his dark, chiseled gypsy
features – the high cheek bones, square stubbled jaw and unruly long
black hair, and those hypnotic pale blue eyes.

Of all the things Randy was, or had been – itinerant street fighter on
the hard-scrabble streets of West Texas, guardian of his five young
brothers, construction boss, leader of a tribe of strong-willed men, Bob's
lover – he was at this moment, as he had always been, pornographically
sexy.  Lounging in the chair, his legs man-spread, head thrown back and
prominent Adam's apple sliding in his throat as he swallowed beer, no man
would have disputed that Randy was truly the King of the Gypsies.

And that was the man who now smiled with satisfaction at his muscle-god
lover, with the physique and features of Superman, lying naked on the bed
with Randy's buddy, the black leather-master Zack, towering over him.  And,
above all else, Randy was happy to be giving the man he loved more than
anything in the world pleasure and excitement.

Growling softly, almost like a satisfied purr, Randy ran one hand over his
T-shirt feeling the muscles of this chest flex under the thin cotton.  The
other hand he slid over the bulge in his jeans, man-spreading his legs even
wider, his blue eyes gleaming with love and mischief.

Bob loved that.  Watching Randy always made his heart beat faster and his
cock harder.  Usually this was followed by Randy climbing on him, making
love and Bob begging to feel the gypsy's monster dick inside him.  But now
it was Zack's turn and it excited Bob to wait for him to take Randy's usual
place, knowing that Randy was watching protectively and loving it.

Just as Randy loved giving pleasure to Bob, Bob in turn enjoyed turning
Randy on.  In a way, even though Zack had taken temporary possession of
him, Bob and Randy were making love to each other.  No matter what the
circumstances they were always making love.  Merely being together was an
act of love for these two spectacular men.

***************************

Zack gazed down at the naked, eager Bob, then turned and grinned at Randy.
"You know, Randy, if I had been in this position a few days ago you would
have intimidated me, sprawled in that chair looking like you own the world.
Not any more, brother.  My confidence is restored – Zack is back –
and I have you to thank for that.  I also have you to thank for this gift
right here, and I have no worries about you jumping my bones when I go to
work on your man."

"Hey that could still be on the cards, man, if you don't treat my man right
and give me something to turn me on."

"Oh I think I can promise you that, buddy.  You sure you don't want to work
him over first?"

"Nah, why don't you soften him up for me first?  I don't mind sloppy
seconds.  Then maybe we can both do a number on hm."

Listening to these two rugged construction workers casually talking about
him like a piece of meat to be bargained over and shared, could have been
degrading to a lesser man than Bob.  But Bob loved it ... loved the thought
of being the sexual plaything of these men.

It in no way demeaned him because Bob was the ultimate alpha male.  With
his refined intellect and Superman looks he was admired, respected and
loved as the co-founder of the tribe and one of its dominant leaders.  And
it was this supreme self-confidence that allowed him to feel excited at
being treated like a fuck slave by Zack and Randy.  He exchanged a fleeting
glance with Randy, enough for each to know that they were both having a
good time.

Randy was hamming it up, playing the rough, raunchy sex stud, grabbing his
crotch and swigging beer.  "OK, big guy, let's get this show on the road.
Let's see what you got."

Zack gazed down in awe at the homoerotic sight of the naked
Superman. "Damn, that is one classic hunk of man, Randy.  And you get to
see this every night and do what you like to him?  Epic, man."  Zack paced
round the bed not taking his eyes of the muscle-god spread-eagled naked
before him.

Zack was still wearing his black jeans and boots and the T-shirt the
houseboy Tommy had given him earlier.  As he paced he pulled the shirt off
over his head, then leapt on the bed and stood astride Bob stripped to the
waist, the muscles of his magnificent torso gleaming under the ceiling
spotlights.  Zack lifted his leg and rested his boot lightly on Bob's chest
in a gesture of supremacy over a vanquished rival.  "You're mine now, man
... that right Randy?"

Damn straight," Randy growled.  "But hey, if we're going that route, might
as well do it right.  He got up, went to a closet and pulled out a black
leather vest he wore when he rode his Harley.  He tossed it to Zack who put
it on.  Bob stared up at the black leather master, the vest hanging open
over the solid mounds of his pecs.  He reached up and ran his hands over
the boot pressing on his chest and pulled it down harder."

"Oh yeah," Zack grinned, "you want this, don't you, man?  You want it bad.
OK, let's cut to the chase here and see what you really want."  He took his
foot off Bob's chest, stood between his spread legs and kicked off his
boots.  Then he ripped open his jeans, let then drop and kicked them off
the bed.  Now naked except for the leather vest Zack resumed his stance
astride Bob, his long black horse dick swinging between his spread legs.

"Aaah!" Bob sighed.  He reached up and ran his hands up Zack's solid
thighs, feeling the muscles ripple under his hands.  Bob propped himself up
on one elbow and with the other hand reached up to touch Zack's huge balls.
He clenched his hand round the base of the ball sack and pulled on it
lightly.

"Yeah, you like that eh?" Zack grinned.  "They're bursting with jizz that
I'm gonna unload in your ass, Superman.  What, you trying to torture my
balls, stud?  Go ahead, do your worst"

Rising to the challenge Bob squeezed harder, pulled on the ball sack and
stretched it, but the only response from the scornful leather master was a
guttural laugh.  "I'm way too tough for you, big guy, and you're gonna find
that out.  If anyone's gonna be begging it's you, stud, not me."

Zack's contemptuous tone turned Bob on even more.  He released the balls,
buried his fingers in the curly black pubic hair, then touched the cock
reverently from the base all the way down to the bulbous head.  Zack
grinned, "That's what you really want ain't it man?  You want that black
club in your ass.  OK, make it hard."

Bob curled his hand round the thick shaft and stroked it, gazing up at the
leatherman's muscular body, naked except for the leather vest, at the
chiseled black features, the shaved head and the intense gray eyes boring
into his.  The cock was hard almost instantly and began dripping pre-cum.
Bob leaned his head farther forward, poked out his tongue and caught the
sticky drops as they fell.

"Shit damn," Zack growled, "I could bust my load in your face just looking
at you, man, but that would be a real waste of good hot jizz, wouldn't it?
Right – time for the main event."

Zack lowered himself onto his knees astride Bob's waist, leaned forward and
pinned his wrists to the bed above his head.  He stared down at the deep
brown eyes in the Superman face.  "Dammit to hell, you are one fucking
gorgeous man.  Hey Randy, OK if I shove my big horse-dick in your man's
ass?

"Not up to me, bro.  Ask him."

Zack lowered himself on Bob's chest and rested his cock between his pecs.
He slid it up and down the cleft in his pecs and said, "You feel that dick,
boy?  You feel that big prong sliding up your chest?  You want it sliding
in your ass?"

"Yeah," Bob groaned, his voice taking on an edge of desperation.  "Yeah I
want it bad."

"Man, sounds like you've never been worked on by a leather master before.
That's no way to talk.  You don't order ... you ask ... you beg.  A
leatherman likes to hear his victim beg.  I told you you'd be the one
begging in the end."

"Yes, sir," Bob moaned.  "Please fuck me, sir.  I'm begging you."

Zack glanced over at Randy who grinned and raised his beer bottle in
admiration of the skills of a leatherman.  Randy glanced at Bob and could
see by the intensity on his face that he was lost in the leather fantasy
and craved the feel of the black musclehunk's rod in his ass.  Randy had
wanted his lover to feel that pitch of desire and knew that Zack could
deliver.  Which he did now.

Zack rapidly shifted into classic butt-fuck position, kneeling between
Bob's legs and pushing them back.  He spat on his own cock and pushed the
head between Bob's ass cheeks and smiled at him.  "Man, I love you, you
know that.  And I wanna please Randy by pleasing his man.  But most of all,
stud, I wanna fuck that gorgeous ass."  He grinned at Randy and said, "Here
it comes guys."

Bob stared up into the mesmerizing gray eyes and moaned softly as the huge
rod slid endlessly in his ass.  Zack let it rest when it was deep inside
him.  "That feel good?  I want it to feel good."

"Feels perfect, Zack.  It's what I've wanted ever since watching you suffer
in bondage getting serially face-fucked.  It took such guts, you looked so
tough, so powerful, all I could think of was your cock in my ass.  So fuck
me, Zack.  Let Randy watch me get fucked.  He loves that."

At first Zack made love to his ass as Randy always did – going deep,
then teasing with short sharp thrusts before plunging in even deeper than
before.  Sometimes he pulled all the way out, making Bob beg before driving
his shaft back in.  Zack always found Bob a handsome man, of course, but
looking down at him now, his sculpted face rolling from side to side on the
bed as he moaned in ecstasy, Bob had never looked more stunningly
beautiful.

Bob had plenty to fantasize about, submitting his ass to the leather master
while his lover watched.  For a while he even fantasized that Randy had
been tied to the chair by the leatherman and forced to watch him plough his
lover's ass.  But that was for another day.  Right now he returned to the
reality of Zack making endless love to his ass.

Zack didn't want this wild sensation to end and he prolonged the fuck as
much as he could, pausing whenever his felt his climax approaching, which
was often – one look at Bob could do that.  But finally he was done and
said, "Man, I gotta cum.  How d'you want it, big guy?"

Bob grinned roguishly.  "Rough – like Randy does it."

Zack cast a questioning look at Randy.  "That OK with you, bro?"

Randy raised his hands and shrugged.  "Like I said, buddy, my guy always
gets what he wants.  Just give the man what he asks for."

Zack's eyes gleamed down at Bob.  "Hear what the boss said?  Give the man
what he wants.  OK, you asked for it."  Suddenly Zack increased the pace
and thrust of his fuck and his rod became a piston driving in and out of
Bob's ass. "Oh, shit," Bob moaned, gazing up at the black bodybuilder, his
muscles flexing as he pounded ass, his body gleaming, naked except for the
leather vest flapping open over his chest.

Bob reached up and pressed his palms on Zack's chest as if to restrain him,
digging his fingers into his pecs.  But restraint was not on his mind –
quite the reverse.  He grabbed the sides of the black vest in his fists and
pulled it toward him, yanking him down on him faster and faster and
yelling, "That all you got, man?  Give it to me ... fuck me ... pound that
ass."

As Zack ratcheted up the intensity of the action Randy got to his feet and
stood behind the head of the bed, partly to get a close-up view and partly
to be ready to act at the first sign of Bob's discomfort.  That was not
needed, though, as Bob gave every sign of having a blast.

Randy pulled out his cock and stroked it in his fist, staring down at the
pornographic sight of the handsome muscle-god on his back, his biceps
bulging as he pulled the leather master's vest toward him, forcing the
black cock to drive deeper in his ass.  Randy always admired raw masculine
lust and this was it – the black construction boss pounding the ass of
Randy's superman lover.

Zack could hold back no longer.  The sight of Bob's writhing body beneath
him and Randy pounding his massive cock inches from his face was too much
for him.  "I'm gonna cum, guys ... fuck ... fuck ... I'm cumming ... yeah
... aaagh!"  Bob's head jolted back as the huge cock unloaded in his ass,
pulsing inside it and filling it with hot jizz.

At last his cock was drained and Zack yelled, "Shit, that was awesome, guys
– my dick fucking exploded in your ass, buddy.  Now you know, Zack's
back – meanest son-of-bitch in the tribe."

Randy chuckled, "Oh yeah?  Well let's see just how big a top man you are,
stud.  See, me and my man ain't cum yet.  See this?"  Standing behind the
bed Randy was holding his swollen cock an inch from Zack's face as he knelt
over Bob.  Zack saw globs of pre-cum dropping from it and opened his mouth
to lick it.  Randy shoved his dick in his buddy's mouth and said, "Come on
Bob ... help me out here."

Instinctively Bob knew what Randy meant.  As Zack leaned forward, pushing
his face onto Randy's cock, his own spent cock slid out of Bob's ass.  Bob
grasped the opportunity to slide out from under him off the bed and he
stood up behind Zack who was still on his knees on the bed.  Bob grinned
across him at Randy and said, "Nothing turns me on more than a macho
leather master getting spit roasted by two hot lovers."

As Zack bent down onto Randy's cock his ass was thrust in the air.  Bob
slapped the ass, then ran his hand over his own sweat-soaked chest and used
the sweat to lube his cock.  He took aim and drove it straight in with one
long thrust.  Zack bucked and screamed into the gag of Randy's monster cock
filling his mouth.  Bob grabbed the top of Zack's vest from behind and
pulled his head back so Randy had a clearer shot at his mouth and Bob at
his captive ass.

Randy laughed, "I guess I didn't tell you, bossman, that there's a price to
pay for renting my buddy's ass ... a man like that don't come rent free.
Call it the price of entry ..."

"No pun intended," Bob chuckled.  Stoked at the thought of spit roasting
the dominant leatherman who had boasted about being such a tough top-man,
the lovers gazed at each other over the bucking black musclehunk, their
eyes piercing each other in that intense communication of souls they always
shared.  Bob smiled, "Hey, Randy, your buddy here was such a great fuck I
wanted to cum so bad ... and still do.  I can tell you're ready too."

"So what are we waiting for, buddy?  Let's do it."  The dual attack
intensified as Randy grabbed the back of Zack's shaved head in both hands
and forced his rod in his mouth.  Bob pulled harder on Zack's vest with one
hand while raising his other arm in the air like a rodeo cowboy riding a
bucking black stallion.  The howls of the near naked leatherman suffering
between them were stifled by Randy's pile-driving shaft.

Bracing himself with one hand on the bed Zack reached up with the other and
clawed helplessly at Randy's heaving chest, silently begging him for
release.  Randy grinned, "Seems like you can't take anymore, leatherman,
you wanna submit.  OK, Bob, let's have mercy on him, put the black slave
out of his misery."

The look between them intensified and each felt the other's exaltation as
their bodies shook and their cocks erupted, one blasting semen down Zack's
throat, the other deep in his ass.  "Take it, stud," Randy shouted,
"swallow that fucking jizz."

He smiled and nodded at Bob, who picked up his cue.  At the same moment
they pulled their dicks out and Bob sprayed cum over the leatherman's ass
and black vest while Randy slammed jism into his face and over his shaved
head.

It was minutes before their heaving bodies and pounding hearts came to
rest.  Zack finally raised his sculpted, cum-splashed face up to Randy and
said, "Damn, you men sure know how to treat a guy."  A grin spread over
their faces and they began to laugh – a stunning tableau of three macho
men at the top of their game, reveling in their shared manhood.

Randy dropped his jeans and they collapsed on the bed in a writhing heap of
naked flesh.  "Fuck," Zack said, "this bed is smothered in cum.  We gonna
sleep in this?"

"Hell yes," said Bob.  "You have a problem with that?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Zack grinned.  And as he lay between the
two lovers, their arms draped over him, Zack knew that his restoration in
the tribe was now complete.

*****************************

This final scene in Zack's redemption was essentially a private act in the
guys' inner sanctum ... except that nothing was ever private for long in
this tribe with its ever-active grapevine.

In the morning the twins brought the guys breakfast and were met by Darius
on their way out of the bedroom.  And that's all it took.  At the communal
breakfast downstairs it was the only topic of conversation and the sense of
relief was palpable that the last chapter had been closed on the harrowing
story of the much-admired Zack.

Wherever the tribe's members went to work – on the construction site, in
the house or in the business office – the lightness of spirit was
pervasive and fun returned to their world.  In fact it increased as the
week wore on and reached its height on the Friday, in anticipation of the
weekend, when several trips out of town were planned.

On Friday morning the senior men held their weekly meeting, a casual affair
where they talked about business matters, household affairs and plans for
their boys.  Bob, who made all the ultimate decisions about the house, came
up with a fairly radical plan.

"You know guys, all the separate houses in the tribe – this one, Zack's,
Adam's, Jason's, Steve's, Hassan's, even the Grady House – all order
supplies individually.  I have a money-saving plan where we would order
supplies in bulk, store them in one central place and distribute them to
the various houses as needed.

"The obvious guy to be in overall charge is your boy Nate, Adam, though the
day-to-day running of it could be the responsibility of his assistant
Eddie.  Hassan, it's about time that your boy had a job with more
responsibility than just house-cleaning."

A ripple of approval and admiration went round the group and Hassan said,
"Man, I gotta thank you for that.  I've been trying to find something that
would boost Eddie's self-esteem and this could be a great fit."  Hassan
grinned at Mark. "The police officer here and I were thinking of taking our
boys on a trip this weekend so it'll give me a chance to sound Eddie out
then."

"You too, eh, officer?" Randy grinned at Mark.  "Hell, you and your Marine
buddy can't get enough of each other.  Me and Zack are taking our boys away
too – fishing up at the lake."

Adam added in his Australian drawl, "And Nate and me are spending the
weekend with Jason and Ben down at his house – you know, hanging out,
working out ... whatever."

"Working out together, eh?" Mark chuckled.  "Guess those mirrors will be
doing overtime.  What about you, Pete?"

The Ranger said, "Grady and Mario have invited my boy Brandon and me to
spend the weekend at the Grady House with their houseboy Brian.  You know
Brandon and young Brian are crazy about each other so they're real
excited."

"Wow,' Bob said, "looks like the twins and I will have this house to
ourselves."

Randy frowned.  "Look, buddy, I hate to leave you.  You're welcome to bring
the twins with us."

"Nah," Bob laughed, "the twins are great at cooking fish but not so keen on
catching it.  And it's about time the three of us spent more time together.
I think I'll be well taken care of."

"Well at least you'll eat well, mate," Adam chuckled.

"And that's not all," Randy said, "if you can believe all the rumors you
hear about those three."

Bob laughed, "Believe them, buddy, believe all of them ... and multiply by
two, of course."

*****************************

And so the meeting broke up and they went their several ways.  On his way
out Mark, who was already dressed for work in his black police uniform and
shiny motorcycle boots, stopped by the business office in the house where
his boy Jamie was already at work.  As always Jamie was barefoot in surfer
trunks and a loose, faded blue tank top.  As Mark came in Jamie looked up
and smiled, wiping his unruly blond hair off his tanned handsome face.

"Shit damn, Jamie," Mark grinned, "it never fails.  Every time I see you I
wanna fuck you.  Look at this."  He stroked the bulge in his uniform pants
running halfway down his thigh.  "Makes it hard to swing my leg over my
motorcycle.  And with that machine throbbing between my legs all day my
cock will stay hard until I finally get to shove it in you."

"You have time now, sir?" Jamie grinned sexily, rubbing his own bulge.

"I wish I did, stud, but duty calls.  But I dropped in to run something by
you.  You still in touch with your buddy Larry out at Mike's house in Palm
Springs?"

"Oh sure, we talk on the phone most days.  Now he's with Mike he's turned
into a great guy and I miss him.  He keeps asking me when we're gonna come
and visit."

"Well good, `cause Hassan and I were talking earlier about maybe taking you
and Eddie out to the desert for the weekend.  The Marine and I, er ... we
wanna spend a couple hours in his old house in the desert ..."

"In his basement?" Jamie said with a raffish grin.

"Yeah well, you know how we are ... we have a history."  Of course Jamie
knew all about the distant past when they were enemy soldiers in a foreign
war and Hassan had chained up the captive Mark and interrogated him
savagely.  Against all odds prisoner and captor had fallen in love and all
these years later they still played out the scene in Hassan's desert
dungeon.

"So what d'ya think?  Do you wanna take a run out there with Hassan and
Eddie?  I know that kid kinda idolizes you so it'd be a chance for you to
spend time with him and see your pal Larry."

"That's a terrific idea," Jamie said eagerly.  He stood up, put his arms
round the cop and kissed him passionately.

It took a while before Mark pulled away and said, "Dammit to hell, I wish I
had time to fuck you, man.  My cock's throbbing ... how the fuck am I gonna
spend the day with a raging hard-on thinking about you?"

"Well this might help, sir."  Jamie fell to his knees before Mark, unzipped
his pants, pulled out his cock and wrapped his mouth round it.

"Oh, shit, boy ... fuck, what are you doin' to me?"  Mark reached down,
grabbed Jamie's thick, tousled hair and pulled his face off his cock.
"Damn I love you, man.  You look so fucking hot, my gorgeous blond surfer
on his knees, drool running out of his mouth while he stares at his cop's
hard dick.  I'm gonna bust my load in that mouth, stud."

"Yes, sir."  Jamie opened wide and took the cop's shaft all the way down
with no gagging.  Again Mark ran his fingers through Jamie's blond hair and
pulled his face down hard on his cock.  The cop was so stoked that he
almost came right away, but he held off as long as he could, looking down
at the handsome young jock's face pounding his cock.

But it was a losing battle and he craved release.  Jamie felt the cock
shudder in his mouth, tasted pre-cum at the back of his throat and heard
the cop yell, "Yeah, I'm gonna cum ... fuck, you're beautiful ... I'm
cumming ... aaagh!"

Jamie's head jerked back as the officer's cock blasted sperm inside him,
making him gulp again and again.  Then Mark pulled out and blasted more
jizz in his face.  Mark took a few steps back and watched Jamie get up and
sit on his swivel chair facing him.  He unlaced his board shorts, pulled
out his cock and stroked it.

Mark gasped at the beautiful sight of the blond surfer jock breathing hard,
cum streaming down his face as he beat his meat staring at the cop who had
just face-fucked him.  Mark stood facing him, legs apart, and unbuttoned
his shirt halfway down, exposing the white T-shirt underneath stretched
over the slabs of his pecs.  The most beautiful cop in the world stroked
his own cock, still dripping cum and his blue eyes pierced his boy's.

"See this cock, boy," he taunted, "the cop's dick that's gonna plough your
ass?"

"Yes, sir," Jamie groaned.

"You're gonna think about this fucking rod all day, and in the end your
gonna strip naked and lie on your back on the bed waiting for it.  You're
gonna hear the motor cycle outside, and the cop's gonna come in, horny as
hell.  He's gonna rip open his uniform pants, yank out this cock and bury
it in your ass.  You can feel it can't you, pounding your ass?"

"Yes, sir," Jamie moaned, stroking his cock, pressing his ass down on the
chair, imagining the cop's rod driving inside him.

"But when he busts his load in your ass that's not the end of it.  Halfway
out to the desert he's gonna pull off the road, pull you out of the truck,
throw you back on the tail gate, yank down your shorts and fuck you again.
You understand?"

"Yeas, sir," Jamie panted, close to orgasm.

"And when you get to the desert, the cop's gonna butt-fuck you again and
again.  Maybe he'll take you out to his buddy's house, down to the dungeon
and chain you naked to the wall, and he'll fuck you again, then turn you
over to the soldier who'll plow your ass.  The cop and the Marine will take
turns ramrodding your ass and you'll cum again and again.  I wanna see you
cum, boy.  I wanna see you bust your fucking load."

"Sir, yes sir," Jamie howled, lost in a homoerotic fantasy, staring at the
muscle-cop pounding his rod.  "I can feel it, sir ... I want it so bad
... I'm gonna cum for you, sir ... I'm gonna cum ... thank you, sir
... aaagh!"  The blond jock's cock erupted in a plume of jizz that shot
halfway across the room.  Mark was so mesmerized by the sight that he
stepped forward and came again, this time all over his boy's chest, his
tank top, shorts and his bare legs.

"Shit, I'm gonna be late," Mark said as he shoved his cock back in his
pants and buttoned his shirt.  "I'd hug you, buddy, but I'd get cum all
over my uniform.  But don't you dare clean up.  You wear that all day. By
the way, a lot of what I said is true, except maybe the dungeon thing
... well, who knows?

"And all that `boy' and `sir' stuff – that's only when we play, you know
that.  You're not my boy anymore, you're my man."  Mark flashed a gleaming
smile.  "And what a hot damn fucking man!"  He turned and strode from the
room.

Jamie took a long drink of water and breathed deeply to calm himself.
Then, still dripping cum, he turned to his computer.  Minutes later his
assistant Brandon wheeled his wheelchair up the ramp and into the office
– that reeked of semen.  He ginned impishly.  "Mark came by to say
goodbye already, did he dude?"

"That obvious, uh?" Jamie smiled.  "OK, get to work, kiddo.  Just don't get
too close – you'll get all wet."

******************************

It was early the next morning that the house started to empty out.  Hassan
came down from his house early with Eddie whose bright eyes shone with
excitement as he climbed in the back seat of Mark's truck with Jamie,
talkative as ever.

"Dude, this is so cool.  Can't wait to see how Larry's getting on in Mike's
bar.  It's where I used to work, you know.  `Course I was just the
bar-back, and Larry's tending bar, I hear.  Bet he's not doing what I used
to do in the back room, though.  Did you know that's where I learned to
suck dick so good?  And I'll tell you something else ... it's like I always
say ..."

"Eddie, old buddy," Jamie grinned.  "It's a two-hour drive to Mike's house.
Probably best to pace yourself with the talking thing.  Ration it out or
you may run out of things to say before we get there."

"Are you kidding, dude?  Me run out of things to say?  I could go on
gabbing and gabbing all day ..."  Jamie glared at him with raised eyebrows.
"Oh, sorry, dude, you're serious.  OK, gotcha, my lips are sealed."  And he
proved it in the time-honored, wide-eyed Eddie way, running his fingertips
across his pursed lips and twisting them at the corner of his mouth like
turning a key.

In the front seat Hassan grinned at Mark.  "Shaping up to be a great
weekend, officer."

***************************

Back at the house preparations were in full swing for the other trip, as
Pablo and Darius loaded Randy's truck with their fishing gear, including
the rowboat.  Then they got in the back seat, with Pablo's faithful dog
Billy in the space behind them.  Zack got behind the wheel with Randy
beside him.  Randy had asked Zack to drive and everyone understood this as
a sign that they were now equal – no one-upmanship from now on.

As they swung onto the 10 Freeway testosterone was heavy in the air.  The
two dominant alpha males rode in companionable silence, their sense of
brotherhood strengthened by the pivotal events of the last few days, where
Zack had bounced back from shame to supremacy, proving to them both that he
was equal to Randy in strength, endurance and raw masculinity.

Their boys normally copied their masters, with a similar sense of their own
virility - two tough young studs secure in their maturing manhood and proud
to be riding along with the two macho bosses up front.

However, one thing they did not copy was the men's silence.  On the
contrary, their sense of leadership prompted them to talk about the other
boys, seniors and junior.  In the exaggerated belief that they were in
charge of them all they discussed their relative merits, comparing one with
another until it became almost a game.

"I'd give my vote for bravest boy to Brandon hands down," Pablo said.
"Look at what he's able to do ... hell everyone forgets he's even in a
wheelchair. "

"No argument there," countered Darius, "and look at the way he took Brian
under his wing.  But who do you think is the best up-and-comer?  I'd say
Ben.  He started out as a shy but plucky kid and now look at him.  He's
become real useful on the construction site as assistant mechanic."

"OK," Pablo said, "here's an easy one – the best cook."

"Duh – the twins of course.  Best at business?"

"Jamie, has to be – best surfer too.  OK, here's a tough one.  Best
cocksucker?"

Darius threw his head back and roared with laughter.  "Eddie!  Out of the
ballpark.  Hell, dude, he's taught everyone else."

"Hey you two," Randy intervened.  "You sound like two kids playing games in
the back seat when they're bored with the ride.  Next you'll be whining,
`Are we there yet?'  You shouldn't be playing that who's-the-best game like
it's some fucking beauty contest."

"Damn straight," Zack agreed.  "All of the boys have their own personal
strengths.  As soon as you start ranking them you're in real trouble.  What
about who's the fastest runner?  I don't think the two boys in wheelchairs
would like to be judged in that contest.  You gotta look at each guy
separately, depending on his own talents and merits.  Life's not a contest,
you know."

Darius couldn't let that one go.  "Oh no?" he blurted impulsively with a
wide grin.  "Like you and Randy don't have some kind of contest going on
all the time?"

"That's different," Zack said unconvincingly.  "We're allowed.  And you
watch your lip, boy."

"Sorry, sir," said Darius in mock humility.  He looked at Pablo who grinned
and they mentally high-fived each other.  Score one for Darius.

Randy looked at them in the rear-view mirror.  "Look, guys, there's another
hour to go.  Why don't you think of some other way to pass the time?"  The
two men looked at each other with eye-rolling grins.  At least their boys
had been cajoled into silence.

The next few miles passed quietly in the cab of the truck, but silence and
inactivity were not a natural default position for the restless Pablo and
Darius.  There may have been a lack of noise and action in the truck but
there was still no shortage of testosterone.  And the thing that was a
common default activity for the two horny young bucks, was sex.

They stared stonily ahead for a while, but each one increasingly felt the
warmth emanating from his lover beside him.  Pablo allowed himself a
fleeting glance sideways at the long ten-inch bulge stretching down
Darius's inside leg under his cargo shorts.  Maintaining his nonchalant
forward gaze he unobtrusively moved his hand sideways until it was touching
Darius's thigh.  He paused, then allowed his hand to travel over the thigh
and rest lightly on his groin, his fingertips touching the base of the
bulge.

Both were acutely aware of what was happening, and its sexual potential,
but they wanted to keep it hidden from their masters chatting quietly in
the front seat. They didn't want the men to think they were so short on
intelligent conversation that they had to resort to furtive sexual groping.
So they stared resolutely ahead so the men wouldn't notice ... or so they
thought.

What gave them away was Darius's sharp intake of breath as Pablo's fingers
touched his cock, and the flush spreading over Pablo's face.  The ever
vigilant Randy saw the signs in his rearview mirror and he caught Zack's
eye and nodded up at the mirror.  Zack grinned while Randy casually
adjusted the rear view mirror, a natural move to focus better on the road,
except that this time he tilted it down so both men got a clearer view of
the action in the back seat.

Unaware that they were observed Darius reciprocated Pablo's move by
reaching low across the seat and resting his hand on the bulge in Pablo's
shorts.  And that's how they remained for a while, trying to stay impassive
and mask their heavy breathing and heartbeats.

But of course one thing led to another and soon each of them was discreetly
unbuttoning the other's shorts, fumbling blindly inside and pulling out his
cock, all the while trying to maintain a bored, impassive expression as
they stared blankly ahead.  It was an act of theater that was not lost on
their masters who also were trying to stifle their laughter and not give
themselves away as they secretly watched the scene unfolding in the mirror.

By now Pablo and Darius were stroking each other's cocks with increasing
urgency, which was not easy to do using just their forearms and keeping the
rest of their bodies still.  Breathing was another problem – they could
hold their breath for just so long.  And as for silence ...!  And that's
finally what gave them away.  As Pablo scooped up pre-cum and used it to
massage the head of his buddy's dick Darius released his breath ... in a
long loud groan.

Randy had had enough.  He looked in the mirror at Pablo and growled, "For
god's sake, kid, why don't you give us all a break and go the fuck down on
the man?  Suck the fucker, or is ten inches of horsemeat too much for your
cute little mouth to take?  Scared it'll make your jaws ache, are ya?"

"Hell no!" Pablo retorted, recognizing a challenge when he heard one.  "You
should know, sir.  This is not my first time at the rodeo.  I've swallowed
your monster tool often enough."  To prove his point Pablo turned to Darius
and said, "OK, dude, brace yourself."

"Music to my ears," Darius grinned.  "It's about time, dude."  Pablo bent
down and lowered his mouth over the long black shaft, something he did
almost nightly to prime his lover's dick for insertion in his ass.

Knowing the men were watching gave an extra impetus to him and he went to
town on Darius using every trick in Eddie's book.  Using his throat muscles
like a sexual device he sucked, gulped, squeezed, released and clamped them
again, turning Darius's low moans to loud groans and then the howls of a
stallion in heat that echoed round the cab.

He looked down at the handsome Mestizo face slamming down on his dick.  The
sight of Pablo's fist pounding his own cock while he sucked dick was the
final straw for Darius who, even in the midst of passion, could not resist
clowning around.  He yelled, "Help me, guys, he's hurting my dick.  Please
make him stop ... he's gonna make me bust my load.  I can't take any more
... pull him off ... I'm gonna cum ... OK, don't say I didn't warn you
... aaagh!"

His cock exploded in Pablo's mouth as Pablo swallowed hard and sprayed his
own cum all over the back seat.  He pulled his face back and opened his
mouth wide as more cum jets spurted inside and splashed over his face.
Finally Pablo raised up and sat back in his seat, dark eyes sparkling in a
triumphant smile as cum ran down his square-cut features, oozed from his
mouth and trickled down his chin.

In the front seat the men were howling with laughter.  "I take it all back,
kid," Randy said.  "You are one master cocksucker.  Hell, ten inches ain't
enough.  What d'ya say Zack?  When we're at the lake how about we team up
and see if the young stud can take both our schlongs?"

"One at a time or both together?" Zack laughed.

"Whatever floats your boat, man. My boy can do anything I ask him to –
that's why he's my boy."

Pablo took that as the ultimate compliment from the macho gypsy and beamed
with pride.  And it set the tone for the rest of the drive up the winding
Angeles Crest Highway high in the San Gabriel Mountains, with an excited
Billy in the space behind the back seats leaning forward over Pablo's
shoulder, his head out the window rediscovering familiar scents from
previous trips.

Eventually Zack turned off the highway onto an inconspicuous, almost hidden
dirt trail that Randy had discovered years ago.  The truck bumped along for
a couple of miles until the track ended at a clearing in the trees and a
small beach by the placid waters of the lake shimmering in the midday sun.
It was deserted as always, their own private place.

They got out of the truck, stretched, breathed deeply and turned their
faces to the sun.  "Hm, this is the life, eh, guys?"  As Billy pranced
around getting in everyone's way, they unloaded the fishing gear and all
the food the twins had packed up for them.  Next came blankets and tarps,
which is all they would need for sleeping under the stars.  They lifted the
small barbecue grill to the ground and manhandled the rowboat off the truck
and down to the water's edge.

Randy pulled off his T-shirt and said, "OK, Zack, how about we take the
boat out and catch some fish, while the guys fire up the grill.  Finally
we'll get some peace and quiet – no gabbing from these guys, no
cock-sucking, no barking Billy, just you and me – two men in a boat.
Oh, and talking of cock-sucking, you two sex addicts can clean the cab of
the truck.  All that jizz all over the place, smells like a fucking
whorehouse.

The two men stripped down to their boxer shorts, smiled admiringly at each
other's muscular near-naked body, then pushed the boat into the water. They
jumped in and as Randy grabbed the oars he said, "OK, guys, no fooling
around – no face-fucking, butt-fucking, or anything-else fucking.  You
save that for your men when we get back hot and horny."

As they floated away from shore and their voices faded in the distance, the
last the boys heard was, "Hey, Zack, how d'you feel about a boy swap when
we get back.  You fancy a crack at my boy's primo ass?" They heard Zack
laugh, "Hell yes, and how d'you feel about my boy's club up yours, big
guy?"

As their laughter faded away across the lake Darius grinned at Pablo.  "So,
do you think those guys will follow their own no-fuck rule?"  They looked
at each other, sputtered with mirth and said in unison, "Nah!"

"Better get the truck cleaned up, though – boss's orders."  They got
some rags, soaked them in the lake and set to work wiping down the back
seats of the truck.  Billy tried to help with his slobbering tongue but
Pablo pushed him aside, wincing, "Ugh, disgusting pooch," which Darius said
was hypocritical "seeing as how you drank gallons of the stuff yourself,
dude."

As they worked Pablo said, "How do you think the other guys' trip to the
desert will turn out?"

Darius stopped work and frowned in thought, a mischievous look in his eyes.
"Well now, let's see what we got.  There's the most gorgeous cop ever to
straddle a Harley.  The muscle-stud Arab/Asian Marine everyone drools over
and who has a history with the cop that has something to do with uniforms,
chains and dungeons.

"Then there's the hot blond surfer-jock who worships the cop, and the
Marine's boy Eddie who idolizes the surfer and, on the rare occasions he's
not talking, is the best cocksucker in town.  And their hosts are the
leather-bar owner Uncle Mike, respected by all, and his boy Larry who by
now must be blooming into full stud-dom."

Darius grinned, "So, kiddo, you take all those ingredients, throw them in
the blender, mix well, and you're bound to end up with something real
tasty, I'd say."

Pablo sighed, "Yeah, you're right, buddy.  OK, now like the man said, let's
finish cleaning the damn truck and get your mind off sex for a change."

"Huh, easy for you to say, stud," said Darius, ogling his lover's ass.

**********************************

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 361


Hey guys, this is Rob Williams.  I hope that chapter got you off, and I
welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in
planning future chapters.  E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.

ALSO, I invite you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can
read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including
pictures and biographies of all the characters.  Click on the `Our Story'
tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all
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