A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 102 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER:

Jamie is left alone with Hassan in the desert ... and the sex is spectacular. Mark returns and stands rigid with shock. "The room was reeking of sex, the smell of sweat and fresh semen." In a panic Jamie runs away, into the desert and into danger. Mark faces Hassan. "Look at me, goddammit, and tell me why your raped my boy?" The rivalry of two magnificent, dominant males ... like two wild stallions.

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – CHAPTER 102 – "JAMIE & HASSAN"

In the small house isolated in the sand dunes of California's Mojave desert Mark had finally made his peace with Hassan, after taking his revenge as the solider hung naked in chains. When it was all over Mark's first thought had been for his boy Jamie, and, as promised, he had driven him out from Palm Springs to this remote and lonely place to meet Hassan.

The effect had been electric as the soldier and the boy gazed at each other for the first time, each one with an instant erection. Mark smiled, sensing their admiration for each other, though he was unaware of their raging hard-ons. "Well, you two seemed to have hit it off. Guess I don't have to worry about you liking each other. That's a relief."

They decided they would cook a meal on the decrepit old barbecue in the back yard. "Barbecued steak it is, then," Mark had said. "Why don't you get the barbecue into shape, kid, and I'll take a run into Palm Springs and get supplies ... charcoal, three steaks and all the trimmings. Give you two a chance to get to know each other a bit. Shouldn't take me much more than an hour there and back ... and then we eat like kings. OK?"

As he left he hugged Jamie and looked earnestly into his eyes. "You OK with this, kid? I'll be right back. Hassan's a good guy. You'll be safe with him."

"I'll be fine, sir. Don't worry about me. I'm having a great time."

Jamie watched the truck disappearing across the desert and turned back into the house. Suddenly alone with Hassan he felt a bit intimidated, but elated just the same. The exotic, olive-skinned muscle-god really was one of the hottest men he had ever seen and Jamie's hard-on was still raging as he got to work, leaning over the barbecue and scraping away at the grime.

Hassan came up behind him and said, "Hey, Jamie, you're gonna get filthy like that. You'll really mess up those neat surfer trunks you're wearing. Come inside and I'll find you something old of mine that you can wear. In the bedroom Hassan rummaged in a drawer and pulled out an old pair of shorts that were already grimy and threadbare. "Here, kid, put these on."

"OK, sir," Jamie grinned. If he felt just a little nervous about being alone with this hot, muscular man, changing clothes in his bedroom, he didn't really mind. There was something about Hassan's easy-going nature that made him feel comfortable. He knew they were going to be friends ... and anyway, Mark liked and trusted him. So everything was fine.

Jamie pulled off his T-shirt, dropped his shorts and bent down to pick up the shorts Hassan had thrown onto the bed. Hassan watched as Jamie undressed and he gasped as he saw the beautiful, young, tanned body, naked now ... the perfection of youth. His gazed fixed on the tan line at his waist, setting off the rounded white globes of his stunning young ass.

Holding the shorts Jamie turned round and smiled at Hassan. Their eyes locked, they took a deep breath, and the smiles faded. All other thoughts went from their head as they gazed at pure male beauty ... the spectacular dark muscle-stud and the youthful blonde surfer. Their cocks were rock hard.

Hassan said softly, "Don't put the shorts on yet, Jamie. Come here...

Without averting his gaze from Hassan's hypnotic, slanted brown eyes Jamie walked toward him. Hassan took the boy's hands lightly in his and again they felt that same jolt of electricity as when they first met. Hassan smiled. "You are such a beautiful young man, Jamie. Mark has chosen well." He pulled Jamie's hands up and placed them on his rock-hard pecs. "Do you like me, Jamie?"

Jamie ran his hands over Hassan's chest. "You ... you're very beautiful, sir. I like you a lot."

"So I see," Hassan grinned, looking down at Jamie's rigid cock standing at attention. He stared penetratingly into the boy's eyes, and it was at that moment that they both knew what would happen. It had to ... it was unavoidable. But Hassan's next move surprised Jamie.

The soldier fell to his knees, held Jamie's cock between his fingers, then lowered his face onto it. Jamie felt his cock slide gently into Hassan's mouth until it came to rest deep down his throat. The dark eyes looked up at him and Jamie gasped as he saw his cock buried in the stunningly handsome face, saw and felt the full lips pressing against his blonde pubic hair. He could not believe that this muscle-stud was on his knees, couldn't believe that this glorious face was actually sucking his cock.

He saw the head move back, felt the mouth sliding over the tender membrane of his cock. For a second the mouth came free, then instantly plunged back down, making Jamie shudder and moan in ecstasy. His gaze was riveted on the face pistoning back and forth, tears welling in Hassan's eyes, sweat trickling down his cheeks, thick black hair flying. As Hassan grasped Jamie's waist tightly, pulling it toward him, Jamie saw the biceps and broad shoulders flexing, still striped with the lashes of Mark's whip.

The sight was mesmerizing ... and the sensation in his cock was electrifying. It was on fire as the muscle-stud worked on him. Jamie's heart was pounding, his body pulsing, his breathing ragged as Hassan brought him toward an explosive climax. Jamie had no choice. He felt the blood gorge his cock, felt his juice surging through it until it exploded in Hassan's mouth and Jamie's screams echoed round the small room. He felt the throat muscles clench round his cock as Hassan swallowed mouthfuls of the warm, sweet liquid of youth.

A few seconds later Jamie had fallen on his back onto the bed and Hassan was towering over him. There was silence as they gazed at each other in awe.

In the aftermath of his orgasm, now was the time Jamie's thoughts would, rationally, fly to Mark and he would be overcome by guilt. But that didn't happen. In a way he did think of Mark... but only deep down in his subconscious. And it was not so much rational as a vague kind of rationalization. He was floating in an unreal world, still mesmerized by the sight, the presence of the spectacular Hassan, and his exhilaration suppressed any real concern about Mark.

Somewhere deep down he was dimly aware that Mark and Hassan excited each other, they were friends now, and that made it OK for Jamie to get close to Hassan. After all, he was Mark's boy and Mark had said he wanted the two men to get to know each other, hadn't he?

Hassan too was running on pure lust and carnal desire. He too had submerged thoughts about Mark, but he felt an intimacy with Mark that, in a way, excused, even encouraged, his attraction to Jamie. There may even have been a residual rivalry between the two alpha males, where one wanted to sample the prized possession of the other.

But all of this was instinctive and irrational, not the product of conscious, logical reasoning. All reason had evaporated as the two men gazed at each other, their breathing and heart-beats subsiding. They both knew beyond any doubt what had to come next. Jamie was spellbound as he watched Hassan kick off his boots, drop his fatigue pants and stand naked over him, his huge dark cock standing out stiff from his black pubic hair.

Any thought of resistance was fleeting and dissolved instantly, such was the magnetic power radiating from Hassan. Jamie wanted this man, wanted to be possessed by him. As if in a trance he pulled his feet toward his ass on the bed, gripped behind his knees and pulled his legs upward, offering his ass. There was a half-smile on Hassan's face as he knelt on the end of the bed, grasped Jamie's ankles and pushed his legs high.

Jamie heard his low, musical voice. "You want this, Jamie?"

"Yes, sir. I want to feel your cock in my ass."

No more words. Hassan eased himself forward and pressed the tip of his cock against Jamie's burning hole. He increased the pressure until Jamie gasped as he felt the thick, smooth cock glide inside him, tenderly, steadily until it came to rest at the back of his ass. Their eyes were locked and the world disappeared. Hassan pulled slowly back, then pushed forward again, penetrating even deeper into the boy's ass.

And so began one of the most prolonged and timeless fuckings of the young man's life. It was as if the rest of the room faded to black and all he could see was the superb naked bodybuilder rocking back and forth over him. All he could feel was the huge shaft piercing his ass and setting his body on fire. He saw the slanted eyes smile and he heard the voice again.

"You have the sweetest ass I have ever felt, Jamie. And you are the most beautiful boy I have been with ... your exquisite young face, blonde hair, and the perfect proportions of your body. I am going to fuck you for a long, long time."

And he did. The rhythm was gentle but inexorable. It wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, they both hungered for it so much. Jamie was in a trance. He pushed his ass up against Hassan and loved the feel of the wiry damp pubic hair pressing against his flesh. He squeezed the muscles of his ass round the piston inside him and watched as the exotic eyes opened wide in ecstasy. He didn't know how long this had lasted when the sensation became too intense and he felt his body shudder as he blasted a long stream of cum over his own naked body.

But nothing else changed. The rhythm was unbroken as Hassan continued to fuck Jamie despite the boy's orgasm. Hassan had recently shot his load twice with Mark, and now Jamie had cum, so the pent-up tension had been released and they could both indulge their physical desires without the imperative of instant orgasm. And so the fucking continued, in every way, every position ... Jamie on his back, on his side, on his knees, aware only of the exquisite sensation in his ass and the spectacular man using him.

It was on his knees that he came a second time, flooding the sheet with a pool of creamy liquid. And still the cock kept pounding. All sense of time was lost. They were both floating in a hypnotic world of pure carnal pleasure, their bodies united by their mutually intense hunger for each other. They did not know it at the time but an hour had passed, an hour of uninterrupted fucking, when they both felt the final climax approach.

Jamie was on his back in a delirium of joy, gazing up at Hassan's beautiful face, now gleaming with sweat. He ran his hands over Hassan's magnificent chest, and all the boy's senses were alive as he touched the flesh, smelt him, tasted the man's sweat as it dripped down onto his face. Their eyes were locked and both knew that the time had come.

They uttered no sound, though their bodies shuddered violently. Jamie stopped breathing as he felt the rod inside him pulse, impale him one last time and pour hot juice deep inside him. He was almost unaware of his own orgasm until he felt his own warm, sticky juice flow over him for the third time.

They stared at each other for long minutes. It had been a marathon fuck, as the magnificent stud soldier had overwhelmed the eager young surfer with the force of his powerful sexual magnetism.

They were drained, physically, sexually, emotionally ... beyond speech or rational thought. Hassan fell forward and locked his arms round the boy, his cock still buried in his ass. And instantly they feel into the deep sleep of total exhaustion.

Mark was in a great mood as he drove across the desert. His trip into Palm Springs had taken longer than he expected and he knew the guys would be starving by now. But he had two bulging bags of food and supplies beside him, including three thick steaks, and he pictured Jamie beside the cleaned-up barbecue, no doubt sipping beer with Hassan. He was glad that Jamie was a part of this. Mark had started out the day with anxiety and misgivings, but everything was coming right after all. Impatiently he sped up as the truck bounced over the scorching sand.

When he unloaded the bags from the truck he walked directly round to the back of the house. But there was no one there and he frowned as he looked at the still-rusty barbecue grill. His flesh started to tingle as he walked through the kitchen door, into the main room, then pushed open the bedroom door.

It was as if he were struck by lightning. On the bed the two men were lying naked, fast asleep. Jamie was on his side, a slight smile on his face, and Hassan was pressed against his back, arms wrapped tightly round him. It was clear that his cock was buried in the boy's ass. And the room was redolent of sex, reeking with the smell of sweat and fresh semen. The sheets were soaked with pools of cum, and clothes lay scattered over the floor.

Mark stood rigid with shock and, like a man experiencing trauma, his mind shut down. He dropped the bags of food on the floor, turned and walked out of the house. In a daze he got into the truck, groped for his keys and, with a roar of the engine, sped away across the desert.

Maybe it was the sound of the engine that made Jamie stir, but slowly his mind cleared and he struggled back to consciousness. The first sense to come alive was his sense of smell, the smell of semen on the sheets around him. Then the sense of touch as he felt the strong arms holding him. Finally all his senses came together ... and he remembered. He remembered everything all at once in a blinding light. The sex, his cock being sucked, offering his ass to Hassan and the endless, tumultuous, spectacular fuck.

And now, at last, his mind flew to Mark, with a clarity that was as vivid as the slash of a knife. Mark! Suddenly he was drowning in guilt. What had he done? Why, why had he betrayed his master like this, the man he worshipped, lived for?

He panicked, and his first instinct was to get cleaned up. He would clean away all traces of what had happened, he would shower and then confront Mark as soon as he came in. He would confess everything and explain ... explain what? Oh, God, he knew that Mark would never forgive him. But maybe if he cleaned up the room and fixed the barbecue ...

Then he froze. He saw the grocery bags on the floor, and the terrible truth slammed him. Mark had already come back, had come into the room and seen them ... seen Jamie in Hassan's arms, with his cock in his ass. His heart missed a beat as he imagined the appalling scene.

Now his panic overwhelmed him. He eased himself out of Hassan's arms, desperately afraid of waking him. He got off the bed, staggered through the door and out to where he prayed he would see the truck. But it was gone. There was nothing but a plume of dust on the distant horizon where Mark was disappearing ... out of sight and out of his life.

"NO," Jamie yelled and lurched blindly forward. Rational thought deserted him. He just knew he had to find Mark, had to explain, had to beg for mercy. He knew he would no longer be his boy but, he moaned to himself, "I just want to see him ... just to say... I'm sorry ..." and tears streamed down his face as he staggered through the hot sand.

He ran mindlessly. He had left the room without thinking about clothes, so he was naked under the scorching sun. The hot sand burned his feet but he felt nothing, just overwhelming shame and abject misery as he stumbled forward. He had no sense of direction. When he finally looked around all he saw was featureless, unforgiving desert under the merciless sun. He would have returned to the house but he had come so far it was no longer in sight. But he was frantic to find Mark so he staggered onward, in a daze, blinded by panic, propelled by desperation.

Jamie's naked body was pouring with sweat as he ran on and on mindlessly, his heart beating wildly. But everything looked the same ... there were no trails or landmarks, just scorching sand stretching to the horizon. He had tried to run in a straight line but after what seemed like an eternity he looked down and saw what had to be his own tracks. Fear seized him as he realized he had been running in a circle. He sank to his knees and fell onto the sand, knowing he was hopelessly lost in the vast expanse of this implacable landscape.

Hassan had slept long and deep, having endured first the exhaustion of his beating by Mark, then the euphoria of his sex with Jamie. So he had not stirred even when the truck came and left, even when Jamie had pulled himself out of his arms and off the bed. But now he was wide awake, and his overwhelming sensation was fury, fury at himself.

He had fucked everything up, he thought. He who had asked Mark to make him atone for his past misdeeds, had endured a brutal whipping, and thereby healed the wounds that had existed for years between him and the blonde god he worshipped. But after that he had been alone with Jamie and had lost all sense of restraint and correctness. And now they were both gone. Hassan had seen the bags on the floor and guessed that Mark had returned, scooped up his boy and carried him away with him.

Whatever punishment Mark gave his boy, Hassan knew that he would not easily condone what had happened. He resolved to let the dust settle and, in a few days, contact Mark and throw himself once more on his mercy. He sighed deeply, picked up the grocery bags and put away the food. The meal was aborted, the celebration cancelled.

Mark was starting to think again. The darkness that had descended on him was lifting as he drove robotically back to Palm Springs. But he was still dazed by the intense emotions that sped through his mind ... rage at Hassan, supreme disappointment in his boy, the sadness of loss, of newfound joy obliterated, and above all total confusion at what to do next. This was a man, a tough cop, who could take charge of any situation, no matter how extreme. But now he was drowning.

Needing a lifeline he found himself thinking of Bob. "Oh God," he murmured. "You would know what to do, man. You always do. You could tell me where I go from here. I need you, buddy."

He longed for him, searched for Bob's voice. And then he heard it ... as clearly as if Bob were sitting next to him. He remembered their last conversation when they had discussed Mark's upcoming meeting with Hassan. "You'll work through this, Mark," Bob had said. "I know you will. You're tough ... and you're honest."

"Is that all you've got for me, buddy?" Mark had asked. "No words of advice?"

Bob shrugged. "Just one, maybe. Take care of Jamie."

Take care of Jamie! Jesus, the man's intuition was incredible. His one piece of advice through all this ... "Take care of Jamie!" Of course he must. Of course! His own words now came back to him when he had reassured Jamie. "Here's my promise, Jamie. No matter what happens tomorrow with Hassan or anyone else, you will always be my boy and I'll never leave you. Do you believe that now?"

And Jamie had believed it. So what the fuck am I doing here?' Mark thought ... running away, deserting my boy.' He damned himself for being a fool and a coward, so involved in his own grief and despair that he had walked out on the boy he promised to love and protect always. Who the hell cares what he had done with Hassan ... with anyone? Jamie was his boy, he loved him, and the boy must be hurting bad right now, regretting what he had done.

With a screech of tires in scrub Mark yanked the truck around and floored it, speeding back over the desert toward the house.

Hassan looked up with alarm and surprise as Mark strode into the house. He ignored Hassan and went out back. He looked into the bedroom but there was no sign of Jamie. In the kitchen he yanked at the cellar door. Locked! He glared at Hassan.

"I've come for my boy. Where is he ... locked in your cellar ... chained up waiting for you to work him over?"

Hassan took a step back as if physically struck, shocked by the fury in Mark's face and voice. "He's not here, man." Mark came toward him and Hassan put up his hands to defend himself. "I swear it, Mark. He's not here. I thought he was with you. When I woke up he was gone. I saw the grocery bags and assumed you had come back and taken him away. I swear, man that's the truth."

"Then where the fuck is he?"

The horrific truth hit them both simultaneously. "Jesus," Hassan said, "he must have gone looking for you. He saw the bags, realized you had come back and he's gone looking for you ... out into the desert." He looked down at the bedroom floor. "And all his clothes are still here. He's naked ... out in this sun."

Mark howled like a wounded animal and turned to rush through the door. But Hassan restrained him. "Wait, Mark. We'll go together in the jeep. It's built for desert terrain and I know the area better than you. Here ... " He reached up to a cupboard and pulled out a first-aid kit he kept there. Then he grabbed several bottles of water and together they sprinted for the jeep.

In seconds the open jeep was travelling slowly through the desert. Sitting tensely side by side, any thoughts of animosity or revenge were buried deep as both men focused intently on their vital mission ... to find Jamie. The afternoon sun was high in the sky and brutal. They both knew that a naked man exposed to this heat for too long without water had little chance.

Hassan tried to be reassuring. "Don't worry, Mark. I've spent most of my life in desert terrain. I know it and its moods well, and in the military I was trained for search and rescue in the desert. Here ..." He opened the glove box and pulled out a pair of binoculars. "Keep these glued to your eyes while I concentrate on the ground. Fortunately there's no wind today so any tracks will not be blown away."

Despite all his anguish and whirling emotions Mark found reassurance in Hassan's deep, calm voice. In this desolate place Hassan was the best man to have, and he was grateful he was with him. With one hand on the wheel Hassan leaned over the door and focused intently on the sand.

"There," he said suddenly. "See those indentations? They have to be the tracks of a man ... couldn't be anything else. Too big for any animal that might be out here. Keep your eyes peeled while I try to follow them. Slowly, agonizingly the jeep moved forward as Hassan followed the tracks and Mark desperately scanned the landscape for signs of Jamie. But they both knew the odds were against them.

They drove in silence, and mercifully the intensity of their search precluded all else, suppressing any feelings of guilt on the one hand and vengeance on the other. The only sound was the hum of the jeep and the crunch of tires in the sand. The sun beat down on them and their T-shirts were drenched with sweat, clinging to their bodies. Suddenly the jeep stopped and Hassan leapt out.

"Shit," he said. "Look here. The tracks cross. He's walked in a circle. He looked up and scanned the empty waste. "Hopefully he decided to rest when he realized he was lost. My hunch is he's not far from here. Look, the tracks go in two directions but we don't know which are incoming and which outgoing. Better if we split up and take one each. You keep the binoculars, and take some water. I'm gonna head for that outcropping of rocks in the distance."

He looked up and for the first time gazed straight into Mark's eyes. "Good luck, man."

"Yeah, you too." Mark paused for a second. "Thanks, Hassan."

Jamie huddled against a rock, trying desperately to find a sliver of shade. He was motionless, totally exhausted. He knew that he couldn't move his body another inch, his limbs were so weak. Maybe if he slept a while he would have enough strength to continue.

He drifted into a state of semi-consciousness ... for how long he didn't know. Then he was woken by a sound that made his flesh crawl ... a dry rattle. He opened his eyes and saw a large rattle-snake about fifteen feet away moving slowly toward him in the sand. Terrorized as he was he realized that rocks in the middle of the desert were bound to harbor snakes.

But he couldn't move. His limbs were limp from physical exhaustion and stark terror. It was like a nightmare he had sometimes where he was trying to escape from danger but his limbs were so heavy they wouldn't move. He was living his nightmare, mesmerized by the snake winding its body ever closer. He was about to scream ... when suddenly a hand flashed down, strong fingers grabbed the snake right behind its head, and an arm flung it high in the air.

Jamie watched it curling against the blue sky like a thick length of rope, then falling to the sand at a safe distance and slithering away. In a trance he looked up and found himself staring into a face he had gazed at adoringly only hours before. Hassan.

Jamie whimpered like a lost dog that had just found its home. Hassan dropped to his knees beside him and unhooked a bottle of water from his belt. "Drink," he said. "It's OK, Jamie, you're safe now." He held the bottle to Jamie's mouth and the boy took great gulps of water into his parched throat. He finally pulled his mouth away and stared dazedly at his rescuer. His voice croaked weakly, "Mark ..."

"It's OK, kid. He's close by. He's been looking for you."

"He came ...?" But suddenly all the terror and fatigue overwhelmed him, his head dropped and he lapsed again into semi-consciousness. Hassan pushed his arms under him in the sand, flexed his muscles and with a huge effort pulled himself to his feet, with Jamie limp in his arms. And so began the trek back. Jamie was heavy, but Hassan didn't feel the weight as he strode through the sand, retracing his own tracks. He narrowed his eyes in the bright sun and eventually glimpsed Mark in the distance.

When he was close enough he shouted at the top of his voice, "Mark!" He saw the head raise, and the figure start running toward him. As he came close Mark stared in alarm at the limp body in Hassan's arms. He looked searchingly into Hassan's eyes. Hassan stretched his arms forward with Jamie draped over them.

"Here's your boy, Mark." It was like a ritual offering, giving back something he had no right to possess, restoring it to the rightful owner. "He's gonna be fine."

Mark eyes filled with tears of relief ... and gratitude. All he knew right now was that this man had saved his boy. He took the offering in his arms and looked down at the face, still beautiful despite the sand and sweat covering it. The eyes flickered open and Jamie looked up at the face of the man holding him, an indistinct silhouette with the glare of the sun behind it. Unable to focus at first, Jamie wept when he finally realized it was Mark. He opened his mouth and murmured softly, "I'm sorry, sir ..." Then his head fell limp.

A short time later Jamie was in bed. Hassan had known exactly what to do, familiar as he was with exposure and dehydration. He had made Jamie drink water, and even eat a little soft food. He had sponged off the worst of the damp sand and covered the young body with several layers of blanket. Mark sat by Jamie gazing at his sleeping face, the face of the boy he loved and had almost lost.

"Let him sleep," Hassan said gently. "Leave him, he'll be fine now. He's young ... he'll recover quickly."

They went outside and Hassan brought out a six-pack of beer. They sat at an old wooden table, sipping their beer in silence. Once again Mark's thoughts were conflicted. Hassan had no doubt saved Jamie's life. His persistence and knowledge of the desert had driven him to do what Mark could not have done. And yet ... wasn't this the same man who had caused all this, who had made love to Jamie and caused the guilt-ridden boy to panic and run into danger.

Hassan too was conflicted. He knew that what he had done was inexcusable, but above all he did not want to lose Mark ... or Jamie for that matter ... so soon after he had found them. He stared at the table, unable to make eye contact.

To relieve the stress that had built up in them they drank several beers, which not only relieved their anxiety, but also released their inhibitions. Mark's feelings were now skewing from relief to anger as he remembered the graphic scene in the bedroom.

"How could you do that?" he growled suddenly. He looked at Hassan's bowed head. "Look at me, goddammit, and tell me why your raped my boy?"

That word made Hassan's head jerk up and he looked angrily at Mark. "Now get this straight, buddy. This was no rape. He lusted for me as much as I for him. Jamie didn't resist ... in fact he gave himself to me. He lay on the bed, pulled up his legs and offered his ass to me."

"That's a lie," snarled Mark, his voice getting louder. "My boy would never give himself to a man like you."

"Ask him, then. What ... you think you're the only beautiful man in the world? Maybe we should have checked with you first, but you weren't there, and when he saw me standing naked over him he saw a magnificent hot stud and said, `I want to feel your cock in my ass, sir.' Just like that."

"NO!" The image was too much for Mark and he lost control. He lunged for Hassan and in an instant they were in the sand, rolling over and over, limbs locked together, muscles straining for supremacy. Mark pinned Hassan on his back, kneeling on his arms, and pounded his fists into the slabs of his chest. But Hassan was strong and managed to pull his right arm free. He smashed his fist across Mark's face and sent him reeling, crashing on his back. Hassan threw himself on top of him and they began trading blow for blow, with increasing ferocity.

The cop and the soldier, both skilled in combat, fought ferociously. The tension had been building steadily ...beginning years ago a in far off land, continuing through their years apart, and now today, with Hassan enduring a whipping, then fucking Mark's boy. And now at last all the pent up pressure exploded and found expression in their fists. The implicit rivalry in two magnificent alpha males flared up and they fought like two wild stallions.

They were evenly matched and the fight intensified. So enraged were they, so intent on inflicting pain on each other, that they didn't even hear the shout. "Stop it!"

Jamie had been woken by the sounds of battle and got up from the bed. He had mostly recovered from his ordeal and felt stronger, but now he stared in horror at the brutal fight. But they ignored him, couldn't hear him, so he knelt in the sand beside their churning bodies and made a futile attempt to drag them apart. Suddenly a flailing fist flew outward and struck Jamie in the face. He howled, staggered to his feet, and then fell backward in the sand.

The men heard the noise and, in the midst of their fight, glimpsed Jamie double over on the ground. They acted simultaneously, broke apart and screamed "No!" as they rushed over to him, kneeling beside him.

"Jamie, Jamie," Mark said desperately. "Here," Hassan said and cradled Jamie's head in the crook of his arm. Mark dabbed at his face, feeling for blood or injury, relieved to find that there was no real damage ... the blow must have glanced off him harmlessly. Jamie had regained his breath and suddenly opened his eyes. Pushing them both off him he staggered to his feet and glared down at them, feeling stronger now and confident.

"All this is my fault," he said. "You guys were doing fine until I showed up and screwed everything up by giving my body to Hassan. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be with you guys. You're fine without me. Sir, I want you to take me back to the city and I'll get out of your lives for good."

Now it was Hassan who sprang to his feet and spoke more calmly. "No," he said. "The fault is mine. What you two have is something rare and special ... magical even. You love each other deeply, that's very clear, and I have come between you. It's I who will leave, so you can get your lives back together and be happy as you were before." He turned to leave but Mark lunged after him and spun him round to face him.

Mark paused to get control of his breathing, get control of himself. For the first time in hours he was thinking clearly, rationally. He was a cop, a commanding figure, and it was the voice of authority that spoke now to both of them."

"I want you to stop blaming yourselves. If anyone's to blame it's me. I brought you both together and should have foreseen what would inevitably happen when I did. So I can't blame either of you.

"Jamie, a long time ago I tried to convince you that you were my boy and always would be. I branded you, and told you that I would love and protect you always, no matter what happened to us. But for a while today I failed in my duty to you and deserted you when I should have stayed. But nothing has changed for us. You are my boy, Jamie. I love you, and you're not going anywhere."

He turned his gaze to Hassan. "Nor are you, Hassan. Over the years I tried to rid my thoughts of you but it was impossible. You are a magnificent man, a great match for me, and I don't want to lose you. I wanted you to meet Jamie and I was a fool not to realize that you are both such beautiful men that, of course, you would lust for each other and release that lust in a sexual act that I'm sure was spectacular. I said I wanted you to know each other, and now you do."

He grinned for the first time. "I just wish I had been here to see it. Next time, I'll make sure I am. Jamie, I said that if you did not like Hassan, if it was a problem for you, I would ask him to leave. Do you like him?"

Jamie too could not hold back a grin. "Yes, sir. Very much." He became serious again. "But sir, I don't want to stop being your boy. I am still your boy, aren't I ... your best boy?"

Mark touched his arm and ran his fingers over the tattoo, MM, on his shoulder. "That mark will never fade, Jamie, and nor will my affection for you. Only now, if you can handle it, we'll have Hassan as a new buddy in our lives ... a friend to both of us."

"I can handle it, sir," Jamie grinned. "Provided you're with us."

"And you, Hassan?"

Hassan took a deep breath. "You know that I came halfway round the world to be close to you, Mark. And I asked you to torture me as I had once tortured you, so that the score would be settled. I wanted to put the past behind us and be friends. Now I see you both together, perfect together ... and it would be an honor to be welcomed by you both."

Suddenly there was a silence. They shifted uncomfortably, not quite knowing where to take it from there. It was Jamie who spoke up. "Sir, may I ask a question?"

"Of course."

Jamie grinned, "If those three steaks are still around, do you want me to fix up the barbecue now? I'm starving."

The meal was tentative at first as they ate hungrily, but gradually they relaxed into easy conversation. Jamie became especially animated. With the resilience of youth he had pushed his recent traumatic experience to the back of his mind in the excitement of being in the company of these two superb men. Mark smiled as his boy eagerly fired questions at Hassan about what life was like for a Marine in Camp Pendleton.

When the meal was over Mark again took charge. "Hassan, Jamie and I have two more nights at the resort in Palm Springs. How would you like to spend them with us ... if that's OK with you, Jamie?"

Jamie's eyes shone and Hassan agreed willingly. Mark added, "Only, perhaps you could wait a couple of hours before you follow us into town. I need to spend some time alone with my boy."

Hassan said that he needed time anyway to square away the house and make it secure, and then he'd follow later in the jeep. So in a short while Mark and Jamie were alone in the truck as it bumped over the sand. Mark put his arm round his boy's shoulder.

"You sure you're OK with all this, Jamie?"

"Absolutely, sir. Being with you and Hassan will be awesome."

"Yeah," Mark grinned. "You know, kid, since we're speaking frankly, I gotta say that bedroom scene I stumbled into back there looked kinda hot, now I think of it. OK then, just so I know ... and just to show you I'm comfortable with the subject ... how would describe your sex with Hassan? Be honest with me."

Jamie blushed and hesitated. "Well ... since you ask, it ... it was pretty spectacular, sir."

Mark laughed. "Wouldn't expect anything less from two hot studs like you. But you know, before Hassan joins us in the Springs, you've gotta make it up to me. Tell me what I have to compete with."

"Well, sir. Hassan fucked me non-stop for an hour and I shot my load three times."

"Hmm ... Maybe we can go one better than that. What say we shoot for four?" Jamie laughed and pressed his head against Mark's shoulder.

Mark was silent for a while thinking of where they go from here. He sighed, "You know, next time Hassan comes into town I want him to get to know the other guys. How do you think he'll get on with Bob, Randy, Zack and the boys? Should be kind of interesting, don't you think?"

Jamie smiled up at Mark. "Wow, let me fantasize about that one for a while, sir."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 103"