A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 226 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: A bragging, drunken Randy points at Bob's ass and slurs, "You see that ass, Pete? Belongs to me ... and I can loan it out if I want." Pete says, "I've never fucked a guy before, but I'd make an exception for that ass, it's so damn perfect." Bob erupts. "Randy, I thought that caveman crap was over, but you're still the same crude, arrogant, shit-for-brains motherfucker who first crawled out from under a rock."

Chapter 226 – "Taking The `Cave' Out Of The Caveman"

"Awesome, man," Bob said gently, kneeling with the Forest Ranger at Randy's feet. "You were phenomenal." He pulled Pete's face toward him and kissed him, sucking from his mouth the semen that Randy had just gushed into it. "Tastes good, eh?" Bob said as he pulled away. "Come on, help me out here." Seconds later both men were side by side on their stomachs licking cum from Randy's legs and feet while the naked gypsy towered over them, arms folded across his chest, a triumphant smile on his face.

Randy's pride was justified. At their first meeting some weeks ago he had transformed the homophobic Forest Ranger, Pete, from an arrogant top man into a naked captive staked to the ground with Randy's cock in his ass.

As Randy later described it to Bob, "Last time he came on like gangbusters, a fucking homophobic dickhead threatening to arrest our boys for sucking dick in public, so I had to fuck the guy in the ass – it was the only thing to do with a jerk like that who kept boasting about how the girls line up to get fucked by him and he gets laid every night. Shit, man, when a guy comes on with that macho power-stud shit what's a guy like me to do but fuck him up the ass? It was his first time, of course, and he loved it. That's why he's coming back for more."

After that first shattering experience Pete had tried to put Randy out of his mind, throwing himself into work and sex, fucking every night with a succession of girls. But the image of the blue-eyed gypsy kept tormenting him, beckoning him back like a drug habit he couldn't quit.

Now he was back, visiting Randy and Bob at their secret spot by the lake, hidden by trees. Pete's first encounter with Bob in the forest had been stunning as he secretly watched the naked superman hang from a tree and jerk off, then lean exhausted against the tree, muscles gleaming in the dappled sunlight, his cock swinging between his legs and still dripping cum."

Randy was immediately on guard at the obvious attraction between the two men, growling to himself, "He's mine, Ranger. You want him, you have to go through me." To prove it he offered his own ass to Bob and, while Bob fucked him, a mesmerized Ranger had fallen to his knees and, despite his initial revulsion, had sucked Randy's cock and swallowed his cum. The husky, macho Ranger was overwhelmed by a mix of confusion, guilt, revulsion, desire, but most of all the exhilaration of being with these men, intoxicated by their smell, their taste.

When at last they had all recovered Bob smiled at Pete. "Hey, man, you probably have plans for the evening with your drinking buddies, but if not you're welcome to stay with us for a while instead. We'd both like that."

"Nah," Pete said in an immediate reflex. "Thanks, Bob, but I am meeting up with the guys and ... and well ... that's kind of it..."

"Sure, I understand," Bob said with a shrug. "Just thought I'd ask." He grinned. "It's our loss."

He busied himself shaking out towels and blankets and hanging them over a high branch to dry out. As he stretched upward with his back to them his broad shoulders and muscled arms flexed, his lats tapered down to his slim waist and then, at the tan line, the white cheeks of his ass rose up in perfectly rounded globes.

Pete gulped and Randy said, "Now that is the most beautiful ass in the whole damn world. I walk around all day with a hard-on just thinking about fucking it. Like I said, any man wants that ass he has to come through me." He paused, then looked casually at Pete. "Sure you don't wanna change your mind, chief?"

The Ranger was dazzled watching Bob walk around the beach butt naked. "I, er ... I suppose the guys could do without me for one evening. I guess I could stay for a bite to eat, maybe a swim ... but if at any time I..."

"Yeah, yeah," Randy said, "you're free to leave at any time." He turned and fixed him with his piercing blue eyes. "But you won't wanna leave, man, I guarantee. See my aim is always to give pleasure to my man Bob, and this time my plans include you too, Pete ..."

Randy grinned in the direction of Bob's naked ass.

As always Randy took the lead. "Come on, guys, let's wash this fucking jizz off our bodies. And you get out of that damn uniform, Pete. I keep thinking you're gonna arrest me for getting my ass fucked in public." The thought of trying to arrest Randy for anything, least of all for fucking, was so ludicrous that Pete smiled as he kicked off his boots and pulled down his pants and shorts.

He blushed slightly at being naked in front of them, but Bob gazed at him admiringly, the handsome, clean-cut, all-American face, the bronzed, muscular body with the distinct tan line showing off his butt and the long uncut cock swinging between his legs.

Bob smiled, "Man you are one hot Forest Ranger – that face, that body – no wonder you get laid every night." But as soon as the compliment was out of his mouth he knew he shouldn't have said it and he saw Randy tense.

Bob understood the dynamic between Randy and Pete. The ranger was a man's man – tough, dominant – the kind of alpha male Randy could relate to and respect. But along with that came Randy's competitive reflex. It had happened with Mark, Zack and Hassan, who were good buddies with him now but still with an edge of rivalry always lurking under the surface. It was the same now. Randy could admire, even like the Ranger, but he had to be the boss, and he had to keep proving it – especially seeing the admiring sparks between Bob and Pete. ("Any guy wants Bob he has to go through me.")

The erotic sex scene Randy had just engineered was just the beginning and the muted rivalry continued now with Randy throwing out a challenge, "Hey, Pete, race you out to that rock in the middle of the lake." Pete was just as quick to accept a challenge as Randy was to issue it and the two naked rivals raced to the water and dived in.

Bob was reminded of muscular athletes in Ancient Greece who always competed naked, and he sighed. He loved Randy, especially his physical strength and macho attitude – the caveman in him – but he got tired of his constant need to prove himself to him. He wearied of it because he knew where it came from – Randy's only source of insecurity – Bob. Randy was king of his world, bowing to no man, but his intense feelings for Bob had thrown him for a loop right from the start, and he was still afraid that someday some hunk would come and whisk him away.

Despite Bob's previous warning Randy was still showing Bob off to Pete, flaunting him ("now that is the most beautiful ass in the world") and Bob sensed that Randy's ego would be at the root of whatever was to happen between the three of them. Of course, he was right.

They were all hungry and the meal went a long way to satisfy their appetites and lessen the competitive tension in the air, though Randy's bravado was still apparent in the way he displayed the fish he had caught and cooked them proudly on the small barbecue he had brought. The barbecue was probably illegal in the fire-prone Angeles Forest, but Randy always ignored rules and it never crossed Pete's mind to mention it. Even in the short time he had known him Pete had learned to throw out the rule book where Randy was concerned.

During the meal, over a few beers, the guys got to know each other better. Pete talked eagerly about the job he loved but steered clear of his social life of drinking buddies and girls. In truth, all thoughts of that other life were absent from his mind in the homoerotic company of these men. Bob looked on with satisfaction as Pete and Randy chatted and laughed, and he realized that they could be real buddies if only Randy could rid himself of his insecurity over Bob and the Ranger. And Bob determined that he would have something to say on that topic.

The more beer the men drank the more convivial Randy and Pete became, two tough alpha males bonding over raunchy jokes and raucous laughter. Bob was relieved to see the tension fade and was content to leave them to it. Besides, after the earlier action and the big meal he was drowsy and felt like an afternoon nap.

"Hey, guys, don't let this party-pooper stop you but I'm gonna have a nap." They both looked at him lasciviously, which Bob found demeaning, even more so when Randy said, "Good idea, buddy – conserve your strength for me and Pete later, eh man?" He winked at the Ranger and they clinked beer bottles.

Bob never liked it when Randy was getting drunk. It brought out the inner caveman and dulled the finer senses he had learned from Bob. So without a reply Bob stood up, pulled down a blanket he had draped over a tree branch and spread it on the ground. Buck naked as he was the men watched him lustfully as he threw himself onto his stomach on the blanket and laid his head on upstretched arms.

He always loved dozing off hearing Randy's deep voice growing fainter in the background, making him feel safe and loved. He slowly lapsed into sleep – but only for a few minutes. He was jarred out of his slumber by boisterous laughter, which even half-consciously he recognized as drunken. He didn't open his eyes or lessen his deep breathing, but he became aware of what the two men were saying. They obviously thought he was still asleep.

"Incredible," Pete was saying, "just look at that. That is one fucking gorgeous man." He was mesmerized by the sight of the naked muscle-god sleeping on his stomach, the dappled sunlight playing over his magnificent body, muscles rippling as he breathed, arms stretched upward, legs splayed out, his broad back narrowing down to his tight, slim waist. His body was tanned golden except for the strip of white where the globes of his perfect ass flexed when he stirred in his sleep.

"Yup, they don't come like that too often." Randy was slurring now. "And he's all mine. Look at that gorgeous ass, buddy ... it belongs to me, to fuck whenever I want ...although," he said grandly, "I'm not above loaning it out occasionally if I find a guy who deserves it."

"And how do you decide that? I've never fucked a guy before, never even thought about it, but I'd make an exception for that ass. It's so damn perfect. What do I have to do to get near it?"

Randy grinned at him. "You know, I like you, man. Didn't at first when you came on like a homophobic prick, but you've turned out to be my kind of guy. You were a sensational fuck when we first met and I ploughed your ass for the first time in your life, and today you were one hell of a cocksucker. You know what? I wouldn't mind watching you fuck my guy's ass – but before I loan it to you you'd have to earn it."

"Earn it?" Pete said eagerly. "How?"

"Well, let's see. How are you at arm-wrestling?"

"Division champ," Pete boasted.

"Good, that's how we'll decide. And to the winner goes the prize – that gorgeous ass over there. OK, man, get ready."

Bob was seething. It was all he could do to restrain himself from getting up and choking Randy. This was the old Randy, the Randy who `owned' his ass, the caveman dragging his prey into the cave and fucking his prized possession. It had taken Bob a long time to civilize Randy and make him treat Bob as an equal, and he thought this he-man crap was all over. But a combination of booze and machismo put paid to that – intensifying Randy's need to flaunt his dominance over another rugged male, using Bob as bait.

Bob gritted his teeth and lay still, breathing steadily, faking deep sleep. He wanted to see how far Randy would take this. Out of one half-closed eye he saw the men lie on their stomachs facing each other propped up on one elbow, the other planted in the sand forearm to forearm. Their fingers locked and the fight was on. They fixed on each other's eyes feeling the macho thrill of competing with another rugged top-man, mano a mano.

Bob was not immune to a similar lust despite his disgust at Randy. As he watched through narrowed eyes there was a part of him that was turned on by the sight of two athletic alpha males fighting over which one of them would fuck him.

In truth, ever since he laid eyes on the handsome, muscular Ranger Bob had wondered how the man's cock would feel in his ass. And when, as he lay faking sleep, he heard Pete say he had never fucked a guy's ass but would like Bob's to be the first, his cock had stiffened underneath him. He wanted to feel it, wanted Pete to fuck him. What he definitely didn't want was for Randy to humiliate him, treating him like a piece of meat on a slab, owning' his ass and offering to loan' it out to a buddy.

The contest was coming to a climax as the rivals' muscles strained, running with sweat, gazes fixed defiantly on each other. Suddenly Randy yelled "mother-fucker" and slammed Pete's arm down on the sand. But immediately Pete said, "Best of three – best of three." Gracious in victory Randy agreed, they went at it again and this time the Ranger exerted every ounce of strength and won. As they prepared for the third and deciding test of strength Pete had a vague feeling that the powerful gypsy was playing with him – and Bob was sure of it.

So it was a surprise when, after much sweating and groaning, it was the Ranger who slammed his opponent's arm down in defeat. He had a faint suspicion that Randy had let him win, but he didn't care – it had brought him closer to Bob's ass. Bob was sure that Randy had thrown the fight – he could beat a man like this any time."

"Well, I guess you win, buddy," said Randy magnanimously as they sat up and reached for more beer. "Let's go inspect the prize."

Bob shut his eyes as the men staggered to their feet and stood over him slugging down beer as Bob "slept". Randy pointed his bottle unsteadily at Bob's ass and slurred, "You see that ass, buddy? Belongs to me ... it can't get enough of my big dick inside it. Would you believe I've seen the man crawl naked through the dirt begging me to fuck him? But as you can see, the ass is perfect and needs special handling."

He threw his arm holding his beer over Pete's shoulder, his words slurring worse than ever. "See, my man likes it best with a nice slow fuck at first, but then you quicken the pace until your cock's pile-driving his ass. He'll yell that he wants you to stop but he don't mean it. My man likes it good and rough."

With all this raunchy talk both they were pumping their cocks that were good and hard. "OK, buddy," Randy slurred, "let's lube him up for you. That sweet ass makes me wanna bust a load every time I look at it."

"Damn right," said an equally drunk Ranger. "Man, I could shoot a wad over it right now."

"So do it, stud. Come on – before I beat you to it." They pounded their cocks and in seconds Pete was yelling, "Right there with you buddy. Here it comes, man – all over him. Yeah!"

Bob felt totally degraded by these two rugged males towering over him as he lay on his stomach, hearing their crude appraisal of his ass, a prize one of them had won in a contest. He felt their warm jizz splashing down on his ass, his back, the nape of his neck as they whooped in triumph. And he had had enough.

Bob suddenly turned over and leapt to his feet, his eyes blazing at a startled Randy. "You know, asshole, you can be a real bastard sometimes. You've had this coming a long time." He hauled back and slammed his fist into Randy's jaw, sending him reeling backwards and crashing to the ground. The big man howled in pain and, as he shook his head to clear it, his first reflex was to vault to his feet and slug back.

Bob opened his arms wide and beckoned with his fingers. "You gonna hit me? Come on, man finish me off – and when I'm unconscious you and your buddy can take turns fucking my ass. You've already insulted and degraded me in every possible way – yeah dickhead, I heard every fucking word... (mimicking Randy's voice) ... `That ass belongs to me, to fuck whenever I want ... I own it but I'll loan it out to the right guy ... he crawls through the dirt begging me to fuck him ... that ass needs special handling'. Like my ass is a hunk of prime beef turning on a spit."

Randy was sobering up quickly and said plaintively – "Man, I was so proud of you being my man that I just wanted to brag a bit – you know, show you off, buddy."

"Show me off?! Is that what you call it? Man, you got shitfaced and arm wrestled a guy with me as the prize like a stallion at auction. What's next? You gonna post flyers, put me on display and sell tickets? I've never felt so degraded in my life. I thought you'd got over that caveman shtick but no – you're still the same crude, arrogant, shit-for-brains motherfucker who first crawled out from under a rock."

He paused, his breath heaving, trying to control his anger, with a sense that he had already gone too far. Randy took advantage of the silence to pull himself to his feet and faced Bob unsteadily. "Shit, man, you didn't really think I would let the guy fuck your ass, did you?"

Bob blazed at him. "Oh for god's sake don't try to lie your way out of it. You wouldn't LET the man fuck me?! Who made you the keeper of my ass? Did it ever occur to you that I wanted Pete's dick inside me – that I wanted to be the first guy he had ever fucked? No, you didn't think of me at all – it was all about your fucking ego, your need to be top dog, to show off to another top man and parade me like you were leading me around on a collar and chain."

"You wanted Pete to fuck you?"

"Yeah, I wanted it a lot, but on my terms – not because you `allowed' it and sold my ass to him, you moron. If Pete decided he wanted to fuck a guy's ass for the first time, I wanted it to be mine. I like Pete, he's a good guy – when he's not being corrupted by a boastful prick like you. And he's fucking gorgeous too so, yeah, I wanted him to fuck me. But you've screwed that up like you screw up so many things."

As he sobered up Randy's head was reeling – and aching. Bob never hit him – but he had now. And he deserved it, he knew, as he cowered under Bob's tongue lashing and heard his own ugly words thrown back at him.

"You see?" Bob said waving an arm at the empty beach. "He's gone, he picked up his clothes and got the fuck out of here – and who can blame him? The guy was feeling his way into a strange new world, needing to feel respect and affection, and how did he end up? Drunk as a skunk getting instruction from a Neanderthal, fresh from his cave, on how to fuck my ass. The poor guy must be feeling totally ashamed of himself right now and god knows what he's thinking about us. We'll never see him again, that's for damn sure."

Randy looked wildly about him. Running purely in instinct he pulled on sneakers and ran off naked through the trees. He was panicking, scared to death that he had lost Bob. As his adrenaline brought him clarity he remembered what he had bragged about to Pete, the ugly words Bob had heard.

His thoughts were racing. Shit, shit, shit, he had fucked up again. He loved Bob, couldn't live without him, but he often felt out of his depth and did dumbass things. All he had wanted to do was show off to the Ranger but he had been a total asshole. He would do anything to put things right – to make Bob love him again – and there was only one thing he could think of to do that.

Up ahead he heard a car start up and he rushed forward, the dense branches tearing at his flesh. He saw a truck coming up the gravel path and recklessly leapt in front of it waving his arms. Pete saw the naked gypsy just in time, slammed on his brakes and skidded to a halt inches from him.

He leaned out of the window and yelled, "You fucking idiot. You wanna get yourself killed? Get out of my way, asshole, I've fucking had it with you."

Randy ran to the door of the truck, yanked it open and pulled Pete out. The Ranger stumbled across the dirt track, regained his footing and whirled on Randy, ready for a fight. But Randy opened his arms in a gesture of conciliation. "Man, I haven't come for a fight. We need to talk. And anyway you shouldn't drive drunk you know."

"Man, you are a piece of work, you know that? I'm not drunk anymore – stone cold sober – and I can't take any more of this shit. I hightailed it out of there as soon as I saw what I'd done – driven a wedge between you two. When I saw Bob slug you I came to my senses. He's a beautiful, gentle man, not a violent bone in his body. But you and me, we talked about him like he was a slave for hire, his ass to be traded on the open market. I gotta get out of this madness and back to the life I know."

Randy grabbed his arm. "Man, you gotta help me. It was all my fault – I fuck up like that sometimes – often actually – but, god knows why, Bob stays with me. But this time I went way over the top, I was a complete asshole, and I think I've lost him. But I gotta do one thing for him. He liked you, man, a whole lot, and one of the things that made him angry was that he really wanted you to fuck him."

He let that register with Pete who suddenly fell silent. "Please man, not for me but for Bob, please come back and make love to him, he wants it so bad."

"I don't get you, man. All this time you've been warning me that his ass is yours but you occasionally loan it out to the right guy – and now here you are begging me to fuck it. So what was all that stuff about `any man wants it he has to come though me'?"

"It was bullshit, man, total bullshit – me boasting he was mine, me behaving like a complete douchebag. Forget me, Pete, think about him. The man's a god, so fucking beautiful, with the most beautiful ass in the world..."

The image of Bob's perfect physique, the sculpted Superman features and his gentle smile flashed across Pete's mind. "You say he wants to feel my dick in his ass?" Randy nodded but Pete's eyes narrowed. "Are you using that beautiful man as bait again, asshole?"

"No, man, I swear. Come and ask him yourself. Please man, I'm begging you. Do it for Bob."

Pete finally allowed himself to be pulled through the trees in the direction of the lake.

Bob was pacing the beach. He had pulled on swim shorts, as if covering up his nakedness could somehow hide his embarrassment. His anger was not easily roused and faded quickly, replaced by remorse at how he had spoken. He still resented Randy but was ashamed of his own overreaction. He had gone way over the top with his moron' – Neanderthal' – `shit-for-brains motherfucker crawling out from under a rock.' He had lost his temper and slugged Randy, a blow to the pride of the macho gypsy. And where was he now? ... probably restoring his pride by slugging it out with the Ranger.

"It's all such a fucking mess," he said to himself. "We should never have come." But then he'd never have met Pete, a man he had come to like so quickly, and lust for so much. Bob would have loved to be the first man the Ranger ever fucked. "Damn, damn," he cursed to himself.

Just then he heard a sound in the trees and suddenly there he was – Pete, being tugged onto the beach by Randy. Randy stared at Bob who was surprised to see the big man actually trembling. Bob's heart softened, knowing how scared Randy was of losing him.

Randy stammered, "I, er, I brought him back ... for you, buddy."

Pete gazed at Bob and asked simply, "Is it true that you wanted me to fuck you, Bob."

"I wanted it a lot, Pete. But after everything that went down, I..."

Pete cut him off. "That's all I needed to know. Well, I'm here." And he flashed a smile.

I was thinking," buddy," Randy said, more as a supplicant than a leader. "Maybe it would be good if..."

"It's OK, Randy, I'll take it from here." The gentleness had returned to Bob's voice, which gave Randy some reason to hope. "Why don't you go out on the lake and catch more fish?"

"Well, I was thinking I should stick around and see how..."

Bob's stopped him dead with a piercing look. "Go fish, Randy."

"Yeah," Randy shuffled nervously. "Yeah, OK, buddy – whatever you say." Reluctantly he went to the truck and pulled out a spare oar to replace the cracked one. He threw it into the rowboat and pushed the boat into the water. He stopped, turned, and looked from Bob to Pete and back. "Are you sure I shouldn't just ..."

"Randy – go fish." The voice was gentle but firm and Randy obeyed, jumping into the boat and rowing sullenly out to the middle of the lake. As he rowed he recalled how his boy Pablo had once talked about his dog Billy, and said that if you have to punish a dog it's no good beating him. All you need to do is separate him from the family for a while. Dogs hated being banished like that. Randy knew Bob was punishing him like a dog and, like a dog, he hated it as he gritted his teeth and pulled on the oars.

On the beach Pete smiled at Bob. "Wow, I'd never have believed I would see that stud obey a guy so meekly."

"Yeah," Bob grinned, "well like Randy said about my ass – you have to know how to handle it."

Pete blushed. "Bob, I'm sorry about the way I behaved. I guess I was drunk and ..."

"Hey, it's water under the bridge, buddy. None of us came out of that episode looking good, so let's forget it. Hey, you want a beer? Or maybe not..."

"Definitely not," Pete grinned. "Never know where that would lead."

They both relaxed and looked each other over. Bob was wearing nothing but thin shorts, but when Pete had fled he had put his Ranger's uniform back on before getting into his truck. With his lantern jaw, tousled blond hair and blue eyes he looked stunning and Bob smiled in admiration. "Talking of looking good ... as in good enough to eat ..." He walked up close to the handsome Ranger and smiled, their faces inches apart.

"Man," Pete said softly, "when I first saw you in that clearing, hanging naked from a tree and jerking off, I wanted you so bad." Impulsively he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Bob's, tentatively at first, then building to a passionate kiss with each man holding the other's head and frantically tongue-searching each other's mouth. Finally they broke apart and gazed at each other, their breath heaving, eyes sparkling.

"You know," Pete said, "in my world I'm considered an expert at this, quite the sex stud – making out, making love and fucking like a stallion. But now, facing you I feel like I'm back in high-school doing it for the first time – nervous, not sure what comes next."

"I love that about you, man," Bob grinned, "but don't worry, leave everything to me." Without taking his eyes off Pete's Bob undid the top button of his uniform shirt, then two more and reached under the shirt, running his hands over the mound of Pete's chest, rubbing the backs of his fingers against his nipples.

"Aaah ..." Pete moaned softly and rolled his head back. "You look so fucking hot, man," Bob said. "Shirtless will look even better." He undid the rest of the buttons, pulled the shirttails out of his waist and pushed the shirt back, letting it hang open from his shoulders exposing his chest. This time he squeezed the Ranger's hard nipples and Pete moaned out loud, "Oh, shit, that feels so ... don't man, please, you're gonna make me cum."

Bob stopped instantly and grinned, "We don't want that, do we? Not yet anyway. Long way to go yet, buddy."

Pete reached round behind Bob and clamped his hands over the mounds of his ass, squeezing them as they flexed hard under the thin fabric of his shorts. Pete grimaced as if in pain. "Shit damn, I wanna fuck your ass so bad, Bob. I could shoot a million loads just looking at it, touching it. Help me, man – I'm on unfamiliar ground here."

"I told you not to worry, big guy, and to leave everything to me. First I wanna see that body of yours." He pushed Pete's shirt off his shoulders and let it drop. "Oh, yeah, fucking gorgeous." He ran his hands over the rock hard shoulders, then down his V-shaped lats to his tight waist, and traced the ridges of his washboard abs. He leaned forward and ran his tongue up the cleft between his pecs, tasting the beads of sweat trickling down it, then clamped his mouth on his tits, squeezing them in his lips.

Pete moaned loudly and ran his hands through Bob's thick, tousled dark hair, pulling his face hard against his chest. But Bob soon eased off, knowing that the Ranger was tilting on the edge of orgasm all the time, with an erotic mix of frustration, passion, bursting balls and the intense effort to hold back. He was in ecstasy.

Bob moved his face lower down, over the abs and waist until his legs buckled and he sank to his knees before the Ranger. He licked the heavy uniform belt, then lowered his head until he was facing the huge bulge in the Ranger's pants. He clamped his mouth over it, smelling the musky odor of the man's crotch through the fabric. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, warming the bulge with his hot breath and felt it shudder.

"No, no, stop, man ... I'm gonna cum ... you're gonna make me shoot." Bob pulled away, unzipped the pants and pulled out the Ranger's rock-hard cock that was shuddering and dripping pre-cum. Bob pushed his mouth over the long rod and swallowed it deep into his throat. The ranger lost all control. He looked down at the beautiful face, at his own shaft disappearing between the full lips into the mouth and felt that the head of his cock was on fire.

In a surge of macho dominance he grabbed Bob's hair, pulled his face back, then slammed it back down onto his cock. Once more he pulled the face back, saw the tears streaming from the brown eyes, and yelled, "This is it, man...!" He drove his cock back down Bob's throat and roared as it erupted with hot jizz deep inside him, a river of cum that Bob swallowed voraciously, gulp after gulp. Pete's howls became sobs as his cock drained into Bob's mouth.

When their hearts stopped pounding Pete slowly withdrew his shaft from Bob's mouth and gazed down at his beautiful face, semen oozing over the sensuous lips and running down his chin. "Man," Pete panted, "that was so damned hot – un-fucking-believable."

Bob grinned up at him. "Well, it was a start at least."

In the boat in the middle of the lake Randy was in his own private purgatory. And it was all of his making ... he had compounded one mistake by another. He had begun by drunkenly boasting about Bob and his ass like a piece of property he owned. When Bob had reacted so violently by slugging him Randy was knocked off his feet mentally as well as physically. In a panicked attempt to regain his balance and prevent Bob from leaving him he had run after Pete, practically ordering him to come back and fuck Bob.

And that was probably going on right now! But Randy had been sent away like an unruly dog with his tail between his legs. Completely out of his depth he had panicked, made all the wrong moves and sealed his own fate. How did he get into messes like this? How could he, who was so always so sure of himself, in command, master of his world, wind up in disgrace in the middle of a lake while his lover got fucked by a Forest Ranger?"

He lay in the bottom of the boat muttering, "Shit, shit, shit." It was only in his relationship with Bob that he felt insecure. Maybe he should cut his losses and get the hell out – leave Bob. "No ... no ...I didn't mean that," he pleaded out loud to a god he didn't even believe in. "I didn't mean that ... I don't want to leave him, ever. Please don't let him leave me... I need him."

At that moment he heard the Ranger's roar in the distance and peered frantically over the side of the boat. He saw vague movement on the distant beach and was desperate to know what had happened. Pete must have cum ... inside Bob he wondered? He grabbed the oars ... then threw them back down. Going back would only make things worse – interrupting them in ...in whatever the fuck they were doing. He lay back in the boat and covered his ears. It was official, he thought. The King of the Gypsies was a royal fuckup.

By now Bob had removed Pete's boots, unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. Pete stepped out of them, pulled Bob up off his knees and held him at arm's length gazing at him. "I guess I screwed up, right? I wanted to cum in your ass but you were so damn hot I..."

"Hey, who decreed that there's a one-cum limit? Come on, I think we can risk a beer now without disgracing ourselves." As Bob turned round Pete reached out and, in a flash of the dominant male, grabbed Bob's shorts and ripped them clear off. "Oh Jesus," he groaned as he gazed awestruck at the naked ass. Bob laughed as his cock sprang free.

A minute later they were lying naked on their sides gazing at each other as they sipped beer. They talked small talk, avoiding the subject of sex that nevertheless hung heavy in the air. But when suddenly Bob, as he talked, got comfortable by casually rolling over onto his stomach, Pete again got a full view of his naked ass. "Shit damn," he groaned and impulsively ran his hands over the hard mounds. "Fuck," he said, "I can't do this, man. I gotta have that ass."

His testosterone racing Pete got to his knees behind Bob and clamped his hands on the prefect white globes. He pulled them gently apart and murmured, "Holy shit" as he gazed at Bob's hole guarded with a light fuzz of dark hair.

He leaned forward and buried his face between the cheeks, licking the damp hair and the tight hole, pushing his tongue inside, savoring the pungent taste of the warm, velvet membrane. Bob raised his ass and pushed it back against Pete's face. Pete fed on the ass for a while, then pulled back and insisted, "I gotta fuck this ass, man, I gotta. Help me out here, buddy."

Bob rolled over onto his back and pulled his legs back. "Well you've lubed it up pretty good," Bob grinned, "but it'll be a lot tighter then what your used to fucking so here, use this ..." He reached over to his backpack on the ground and pulled out a jar of lube. Pete dipped in his fingers, reached forward and pushed two greasy fingers gently into the hole. "Shit, that's tight," he murmured. He pulled out and spread the cream over his cock that was stiff as a pole again.

He dropped forward and braced himself with his hands flat on the ground beside Bob's head. As he did so he felt the tip of his cock brush against Bob's ass and he stopped, scared to push further. He gazed down at Bob's beautiful face and said softly, "You sure you want this, man?"

Bob smiled. "You should see yourself, Pete, leaning over me – that sinewy body, the square-jawed face ... of course I want it. Please, man... please fuck my ass."

The Ranger could hardly believe the words spoken by this muscle-god lying beneath him. He eased the head of his cock just over Bob's sphincter and gasped ... his cock was inside of a man's ass for the first time in his life. God it was tight ... and hot, squeezing round his cock. The man was so fucking beautiful that the Ranger felt semen racing up his cock from his balls.

With a howl of pure ecstasy he slammed his hips forward, driving his rod deep inside the cauldron of Bob's ass ... and his scream echoed round the lake as his cock exploded. He felt the ass muscles clamp tight, saw the body shudder and watched in wide-eyed disbelief as Bob's cock blasted semen over his own abs, his chest and up to his face.

Pete pulled back and drove his cock in even deeper, gushing another stream of cum as Bob matched him. He fell forward on top of Bob, their bodies sliding together on the pools of jism, then leaned down and licked Bob's own cum from his face. He kissed him, their mouths lubricated by semen as they mashed their lips together.

Pete's cock was still inside Bob and, incredibly, still hard. He felt a sudden virile surge of adrenaline and he pulled back up in his knees, leaned forward again and clamped his hands over Bob's wrists, pinning them above his head on the sand. A wave of power swept over him, unlike anything he had ever felt before. This beautiful muscle-god was his captive, trapped on the sand, his ass impaled on the Ranger's cock.

"Man," he groaned, "that feels so fucking sweet ... my cock in your ass, where it belongs. It's never been like this for me. I gotta fuck you, man, I gotta make love to that perfect ass." Tears filled his eyes. "This time I'm really gonna fuck you, Bob ... fuck you for a long, long time."

And so it began, with Pete's cock as hard as if he had never cum. He pulled it all the way back, rubbed the head against the rim of the sphincter, then slowly pushed it in, inch after inch until it came to rest in the depths of Bob's gut. He was doing what he had wanted to do for so long – fucking the ass of the superman.

Looking down at Bob – at the chiseled features, the perfect physique, his arms pinned to the ground – Pete as last knew what Randy felt when he made love to his man. He had never felt so dominant in his life as he did now, fucking the ass of this beautiful alpha male – his captive. Though Pete would never have admitted it, he recalled Randy's earlier instructions ... "He likes it best with a nice slow fuck at first, but then you quicken the pace until your cock's pile-driving his ass. My man likes it good and rough."

It seemed natural to Pete to do just that, to prove his dominance by seducing a man with his cock, then turn it into a jackhammer. He alternated between sensitive and savage, driving his captive wild, his body writhing, face tossing form side to side, grimacing with pain and ecstasy as his ass got ploughed by the rugged Forest Ranger.

"That's it, man," Bob yelled, "fuck me, fuck that ass. That all you got? Harder, stud, harder." Rising to the challenge Pete turned up the pressure and his cock became a ramrod. Bob took as much as he could but soon he was screaming, "No, no, please, sir, you're ripping my ass. Please, I beg you, you're hurting me, sir."

Pete could not believe that this macho bodybuilder was calling him sir, begging him. Seeing the muscular body streaming with sweat, struggling beneath him, he slowed down and said earnestly, "I don't wanna hurt you, buddy. I want to make love to you."

"Yeah," Bob sighed and Pete saw him relax. "Now we make love," Pete said, releasing Bob's hands and gently stroking his own against his nipples. Bob reached up and ran his hands over the Ranger's chest, his neck, his face. Pete kissed his hands and sucked his fingers into his mouth.

And all the time the Ranger's cock slid gently back and forth in the warm ass.

The sound of the Ranger's orgasmic scream, and then Bob's pleading howl, had sped over the lake, amplified by the hot, still air of the quiet afternoon. It reached the boat rocking in the middle of the lake ... and that was it. Randy was still racked by guilt and confusion but one instinct was bred in the bone – if Bob was hurting Randy would help him.

So no more thinking, no more agonizing. Suddenly Randy was no longer the wounded animal curled up in the boat. He reverted to his natural state – a man of action – the real King of the Gypsies. He grabbed the oars and rowed so ferociously it's a wonder the oars didn't crack again. Near the beach Randy leapt from the boat and towed it behind him as he strode ashore.

He pulled the boat onto the beach and walked silently in the soft sand. His relief at seeing Bob unhurt was overpowered by the sight of the two men making passionate love. They were still kissing, and the Ranger's naked body was still rising and falling over Bob's ass. So engrossed were they in each other that they were oblivious to everything else – even Randy.

Randy's instinct was to throw himself on the Ranger, pull him off his lover and slug him. But he was aware how he had screwed up before and this time he made a conscious effort to control his anger. He recalled how he had tamed Pete the first time they met. "Shit, man," he had told Bob, "when a guy comes on with that macho power-stud shit what's a guy like me to do but fuck him up the ass?"

Randy watched the Ranger's ass flexing high in the air as he leaned forward and fucked Bob. He was driven by one part anger and one part desire, but both of them had the same effect of making his dick hard as an iron rod. Silently he dropped to his knees behind Pete and, with the seasoned skill of an expert butt-fucker, pointed his dick straight at the hole. He took a deep breath ... and drove his shaft deep into the Ranger's ass.

"Aaagh!" Pete screamed, yanking his face away from Bob's as Randy growled in his ear, "Don't stop fucking him, Ranger. "My man wants you to fuck him and that's what you're gonna do. That's what I promised him. Only thing I didn't mentioned is that I'm gonna be fucking your ass while you do."

When the shock subsided Pete felt his ass relax round the cock of the construction worker and the sensation was as intense as it had been that first time. Pete had said he didn't want to come between Randy and Bob, but this is not what he meant. Here he was literally between the two spectacular men – fucking the ass of one and getting his own ass fucked by the other. It was a sensation that sent him spinning into a fantasy world of lust and passion.

If Bob's ass had brought him to the brink of orgasm before it was now ten times more intense. He couldn't even distinguish between the thrill of his cock in Bob's ass and Randy's in his. It was all one flash of heat that raced through his cock and set it on fire. The feeling intensified when he heard Bob say, "Fuck him, Randy, make him cum in my ass."

"All in good time, buddy," Randy said, grinning down at Bob over Pete's shoulder. "I'm in charge now ... this is my show."

"Man," Pete groaned, "your cock feels so good in my ass. It's gonna make me cum inside him."

"Oh yeah?" Randy snarled and stopped dead. The sudden lack of movement in his ass made Pete's near-orgasm die. The change in rhythm inhibited him. Before, Bob's ass could have made him shoot at any time, but now that he had felt the thrill of the gypsy's cock inside he was under his spell. He couldn't cum until Randy made him, and he pleaded, "No, man, fuck me, please, make me cum."

Randy could drive a man crazy like this, could control him with his teasing cock. He thrust it in, paused, then thrust again, driving the Ranger wild with frustration, his cock constantly shuddering on the edge of eruption. "Please, man, I can't take this," Pete moaned. "My cock's burning up ... I gotta cum ... have mercy on me, man."

"Yeah," Randy growled, "but first I wanna hear you beg like you made Bob beg. Come on, man, let's hear it," and he taunted him with short, intermittent jabs of his cock."

"Man, you're driving me insane... OK, please, sir, I'm begging you. Please stop torturing me ... fuck my ass, sir ... do it hard ... make me bust my load ... please, sir ... I beg you."

Bob was turned on as never before, looking up at the tough Forest Ranger who a short while ago had him pinned to the ground, fucking his ass like the macho top man he was. But now the tables were turned and the handsome face was twisted in submission as he begged Randy to release him ... to make him shoot in Bob's ass. Bob looked over Pete's shoulder at Randy and nodded slightly.

"OK, buddy, you got it." Then to Pete, "Here it comes, Ranger, just like you gave it to my man. In an instant Randy was a fuck machine, his massive cock jackhammering the Ranger's ass making him scream in pain and the euphoria of release. "Oh god ... aah ... aah ... you're killing me man, I can't take it, I ... aaagh!!"

He felt Randy's cock blasting jizz deep in his ass, saw Bob spurting semen over his already cum-soaked body, and ... aaagh!! ... his own cock exploded in Bob's ass in the most extraordinary orgasm of his life. Tears were running down his cheeks as his cock kept pumping and his heart pounding.

"Yeah," Randy roared in triumph and they collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs on the sand.

A few minutes later they all lay exhausted on the ground, Randy face down between the others, his arms spread wide over their chests. They all knew what had happened. Randy had got wasted and insulted Bob, who had punished him in the worst way by banishing him while Pete fucked him. But Randy had finally, inevitably, resumed his rightful place as master, had taken control of the whole scene, dominated the Ranger and forced him to submit – to beg Randy to let him shoot his load in Bob's ass. Randy wasn't called the King of the Gypsies for nothing.

After their emotions and heaving bodies had calmed, Randy stood up and led them to the lake where they swam to clean off. When they came out they sat cross-legged at the water's edge, side by side, naked, watching the setting sun sink into the lake, turning the water into a blaze of scarlet and gold.

Pete was aware of the strong emotional and sexual vibrations running between the two extraordinary men and said quietly, "I gotta go, guys – leave you two together to sort out whatever you have to sort out. I don't wanna come between you."

"You just did, buddy," Randy laughed, "and it was fucking spectacular. You're real good with Bob and me, you know that?"

"Yeah, but ..."

"Now listen, Pete," Bob said, sensing his confusion. "Like Randy said last time you met, let's keep this strictly between us. We would both really like to get together with you again. You're a hot man, a real stud, and despite whatever happened here earlier we're not bad guys – just a bit complicated, with the occasional explosion here and there as you saw. So you go get on with the Forest Ranger life you enjoy so much, with your buddies and your girls, and the three of us will get together here from time to time, if you would like to."

"You know the answer to that, Bob. I never want to louse things up between you – you're sensational together – incredible together – but I'd really get off on seeing you again. And maybe have an arm-wrestling re-match eh, big guy? Which you won't let me win next time."

"It's a deal," Randy laughed. "And remember – what we did up here, you never do that with any other guy."

Pete smiled. "Is that an order, sir?"

"Damn right it is," Randy grinned.

They stood up, Pete put on his uniform and gave them bear hugs, unable to resist a last kiss on Bob's lips. "Looking forward to the next time, guys. Take care of each other."

When he had disappeared through the trees Bob and Randy went back to sit by the lake in the deepening twilight. After a long silence Randy asked, "Are we OK, buddy?"

"You know we are, Randy. Look, you behaved like an asshole, nothing unusual in that, and I punished you. I know how tough it was for you sitting out on the lake on your own, and I'm sorry about that. But I'll say what I've said a million times before – whatever happens, never, ever be afraid that I'll leave you. You're my life, buddy. And like the man said, we're sensational together."

Another silence, then Randy grinned, "That's a mean right cross you got, buddy. Never knew you were so handy with your fists."

"Yeah, and don't you forget it."

"Oh I won't, believe me," he smiled, rubbing his chin.

Bob had said his piece and wanted to change the subject. "Now it's just the two of us for the rest of the weekend, and then home to face all that Kumbaya shit' as you call it. I wonder how Brandon got on spending his first night with Eddie and Ben. No doubt Darius will spill all the beans' when we get home."

As Bob talked about home Randy smiled to himself and threw his arm round his lover's neck. "I love you, man." And there they sat by the silent lake – two beautiful men in love, enfolded in the gathering darkness."

As for Brandon, Bob could actually have described pretty accurately what his night would be like. They were, after all, three spirited young bucks, hormones raging, three to a bed. Brandon was lying on his back on the bed gazing up excitedly at the boyishly good-looking Eddie and the dark young gypsy boy Ben, standing over him, their arms folded.

"So, what d'you think we should do with the new kid, eh, dude?" Eddie asked. Ben shrugged. "Dunno. Fuck him, that's for sure, and then I guess we'll just make it up as we go along."

In the bedroom next door the handsome Italian gardener, Mario, could hear them giggling. He was alone as usual and oddly comforted by the boisterous sounds of the three boys next door. But if they get any louder, he thought...

Hey, he grinned to himself, it's a well-known fact in any country – Italy, America, anywhere – that if you're giving a loud party you should always invite the neighbors.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 227

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 urge 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 and some other great artwork. Click on the `Our Story' tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all the chapter synopses. Enjoy!