A Trial of Strength

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 the chapter synopses. Enjoy

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