A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 252 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: To appease their savage rivalry Randy and Mark temporarily swap boys. They each take the other's boy on separate trips which become a contrast in role reversals. Mark is a master to Pablo, and the cop's joyful fuck of the boy parallels the rowdy action of a soccer match. But Jamie's rejections of Randy challenge his manhood and the boy tames the savage gypsy, forcing him to his knees.

Chapter 252 – "Randy & Mark Swap Boys"

Everyone knew it had been Pablo's fault. It was mayhem. When the boss's boy had picked a fight with the cop's boy, Jamie, and even attacked Brandon in his wheelchair, the resulting battle quickly involved their masters, Randy and Mark. Randy's wildly swinging fist had even caught Bob on the chin and sent him sprawling. The brawl had resulted in bruised bodies and, for Randy and Pablo, bruised egos as they had been beaten and ass-fucked by Mark and Jamie.

The tension between the two alpha males and their boys could flare up again at any time, so the therapist, Doctor Steve, had stepped in with a novel solution. He suggested two separate trips out of town for a night or two – a different trip for each man. But they would switch boys – Randy with Jamie, Mark with Pablo. "I'm betting that if each man and the other man's boy get better acquainted they'll discover stuff about each other that'll help reduce their animosity."

The idea intrigued Mark and outraged Randy, but after reassurance from Steve and a lot of persuasion from Bob, both men agreed, Mark willingly, Randy grudgingly. Randy decided to take Jamie fishing at the lake high up in the forest above Los Angeles – familiar turf for him.

Bob suggested to Mark that Pablo could do with a clean-up and a bit of sophistication as he spent most of his time, like his master, in grubby work clothes, so Mark chose to take Pablo to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel down the coast in Laguna where he had taken Jamie a couple of times. To set the tone Bob loaned him his sleek black Mercedes for the trip.

So the next day in the late afternoon Randy took off in his truck with Jamie, the rowboat and fishing gear in the back, while the Mercedes went in the opposite direction headed south along the coast. As he watched them go Bob smiled at Steve. "You sure about this, doc?"

"Sure I'm sure," Steve said. "Just you wait and see."

As the Mercedes sped down the Golden State Freeway no words were exchanged between Mark and Pablo and the atmosphere was tense. Mark was wearing the black ripped tank top that always turned Jamie on so much. He guessed that it would have a similar effect on Pablo, and he was right, though Pablo would never had admitted it. He kept stealing glances at the gorgeous blond cop beside him, his muscular torso bulging under the tank, and he at last broke the frosty silence by blurting out, "But I'm not gonna have sex with you. No way."

"Good," Mark retorted, "`cause I have no intention of having sex with you. That's why I booked a room with two king-size beds. But there are a few ground rules. First of all you will call me sir at all times. Second, no attitude. Let's just relax and try to make this as pleasant as possible."

"Yes, sir," said a chastened Pablo, and during the drive Mark used all his skill to coax him into conversation. By the time they reached the luxury hotel the tension had greatly diminished.

Pablo was impressed by their luxurious room overlooking the ocean from the clifftop and even more impressed when he saw Mark come out of the shower naked except for a towel round his waist. In the mirror Pablo surreptitiously watched him as he dried off, his muscles rippling, his long cock hanging from a mass of blond pubic hair and swinging between his thighs.

Later, smartly dressed in the opulent dining room, their dinner conversation flowed easily, though Pablo had a permanent boner in his new slacks. They drank copious amounts of wine and after-dinner drinks and when at last they got back to their room they were feeling mellow. "Hey, check this out," Mark said, and Pablo followed him out onto the balcony. A full moon gleamed above the horizon, sending a carpet of rippling silver across the sea toward them. "That something, eh, kiddo?"

Pablo looked round and gasped at Mark's glorious face lit by the silver light, square-jawed, high cheekbones, a tangle of blond hair falling over his brow above the smiling blue-gray eyes. Pablo was about to reach up and touch the face when Mark said, "Dunno about you, man, but I'm bushed – ready to hit the sack. I'll take the bed next to the window if that's OK with you."

"Sure, fine, sir," Pablo said, feeling a sense of disappointment that he immediately suppressed. He undressed and quickly slid under the sheets to hide the erection that, he now realized, he had had all evening. Surreptitiously he watched Mark get ready for bed.

Gazing out of the window Mark unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, his bare torso gleaming in the silver light as he stretched and yawned. He kicked off his loafers, dropped his slacks and folded them neatly over the back of a chair. He shed his boxers and walked toward his bed. Backlit by moonlight Mark's naked body seemed to shimmer, surrounded by a halo. As he watched spellbound Pablo understood now why guys often referred to Mark as a god.

With a deep, satisfied sigh Mark climbed into his bed and lay on his back, pulling the sheets up only far enough to cover his dick, leaving exposed his pubic hair, narrow waist, ripped abs and the mounds of his chest. He threw his arms above him on the bed, sighed, closed his eyes, and soon his breathing became steady.

Emerging from a trance Pablo realized he had been gazing at the spectacular man, drooling even, and he felt pre-cum oozing out of his cock. Damn, he thought – he had to sleep. He tossed from side to side, his jaw clenched, fist pounding his pillow. But a clenched jaw and tight fists are hardly conducive to sleep and, still wide awake, he found himself inevitably on his side gazing at the other bed and the magnificent naked man lying on it, lit by the glow of moonlight.

Pablo remembered a night when he was a small child still living with his parents, and he couldn't sleep. After tossing and turning he had got out of bed, tiptoed into his parents' room and tugged at the sheets. "Mom," he had said plaintively, "I can't sleep" and she let him crawl in beside her. Now he was that child again, standing by Mark's bed, staring down at him. He tugged at the pillow until Mark stirred. "Sir, I can't sleep. Can I get in bed with you?"

Mark half opened his eyes and smiled. "Sure, kiddo ... `course you can." He held up the sheets and Pablo crawled in beside him. The boy moaned contentedly, a stray animal safe at home. He felt the warm flesh of Mark's back pressing against him and as he finally drifted toward sleep he murmured, "But I'm not gonna have sex with you. No way."

"Of course you're not. And I thought I told you to call me sir."

"Sorry, sir," Pablo smiled and wrapped his arms round him.

During the night Pablo came to regret his defiant `no sex' declaration. Several times he woke up and felt Mark's warm flesh pressing against him. He opened his eyes and saw Mark's face next to his, his eyes closed in sleep, a half smile on his lips. In the serenity of sleep, with moonlight falling across his face, Mark looked more god-like than ever and Pablo fought against the urge to lean over and kiss his lips.

He tried to think of subtle ways to wake Mark so he could seduce him into making love. Hell, all he had to do for Darius and Randy was flash his ass at them and within minutes their cocks were inside him. But like an idiot he had sworn boastfully to Mark that he would definitely not have sex with him and Mark had agreed. Asshole, he called himself and, not for the first time, regretted his arrogance. Seemed like it always made him do dumb stuff where only he suffered.

By this time his boner was raging and he turned over on his stomach to try and smother it and make it go way. Wrong move! His face lay sideways on the pillow toward Mark and, a few minutes later Mark stirred, turned on his side facing Pablo and, in his sleep, threw his arm over the boy's neck as he always did with Jamie. Pablo gasped as he found his face inches from Mark's damp blond tangle of armpit hair, the musky smell of his sweat filling his nostrils.

Worse, Mark had a hard-on in his sleep and his cock was pressed against the side of Pablo's butt. Pablo froze with the agony of forbidden lust. He should have closed his eyes but couldn't. Instead he gazed mesmerized at the beads of sweat trickling from Mark's armpit hair and down his side onto the bed. Without thinking he pushed out his tongue and caught a few drops, sucking them in and tasting the bitter-sweet taste of the cop's maleness.

The taste, the smell, the touch of this incredible man overwhelmed him. He held his breath to stifle a yell, his body trembled and his cock erupted underneath him, pouring hot jism between his stomach and the sheet.

Pablo lay stock-still, his body tense, afraid that Mark would wake. But Mark merely moaned in his sleep and moved even closer to the boy. Gradually Pablo relaxed, his face now almost covered by Mark's armpit. As he breathed deeper he was intoxicated by pungent, masculine scent of the naked cop. And that's how, at long last, he fell asleep.

It was the sun streaming through the window that woke Mark and he reached lazily over to Pablo's side of the bed. But he was gone, leaving only a sticky wet sheet under Mark's hand. He sniffed at his hand and smiled – the unmistakable smell of semen.

Mark heard muted voices at the door, heard it click shut, and Pablo walked up to the bed. Wearing only white boxer briefs he was wheeling a breakfast cart that had just been delivered by room-service. He stood to attention by the bed with a napkin folded over his arm and said formally, "Room-service, sir."

"Jeez," Mark grinned, "is that what the well-dressed waiter is wearing these days?"

"I ordered for us, sir," Pablo said. "Eggs and bacon, toast, yoghurt, berries, juice, coffee – the works. Shall I set it up on the balcony, sir?"

"Sure thing." Mark leapt out of bed, still naked, and pulled on his boxers. "I gotta wash my hands first. This one's all sticky." He looked down at the bed. "What's that sticky wet patch on the sheets, by the way?"

Pablo blushed deeply ... no use denying what it was. "Sorry, sir. I must've had a wet dream. Probably dreaming of Randy like I always do."

"Yeah," Mark smiled. "That must be it. OK, breakfast."

A few minutes later they were sitting facing each other across the table on the balcony with the ocean glittering way below them, deep blue with flecks of gold, stretching far away to the knife-edge horizon. Mark stretched and sighed. "Mmm, pretty near perfect, wouldn't you say, kid?"

The sight of the gorgeous muscle-god flashing his body in the sunlight stirred Pablo's cock and he realized that he couldn't take another whole day of this. He had to level with Mark. He cleared his throat and stammered, "Sir, I ... I wasn't totally honest with you just now. That stuff on the sheet ... sure, it was my jizz but it wasn't Randy I was thinking of. It was you, sir, with your body so close to mine, that made me lose my load."

"That so?" said Mark matter-of-factly. "Well no harm done. It's often happened to other guys when they're with me."

A bit miffed at being lumped in with `other guys', Pablo blurted out. "Thing is, sir, I've had a more or less non-stop boner since the drive down here."

Mark stifled a smile. "Even while you were protesting `No way am I gonna have sex with you'?"

Pablo blushed again. "That was just me blowing smoke ... crazy talk."

Mark poured himself some coffee and looked Pablo straight in the eyes. "Why do you do stuff like that, Pablo? Why do you mouth off like that, why do you challenge the other boys the way you do – beat up Jamie and even knock Brandon out of his chair? I don't understand."

Pablo took a mouthful of scrambled eggs to play for time, but even so all he could come up with was a lame, "I don't wanna talk about it, sir. I don't even talk about it in therapy with Doc Steve."

"Well, I can see why you might hold back from Steve. After all, he is Randy's brother and, I guess, your adoptive uncle. But I'm cool – you can talk to me." Pablo stared into the kind, blue-gray eyes and decided that he did want to talk to Mark, explain why he had picked a fight with Jamie. So it all spilled out.

"See, when I was a kid, sir, I was shunted from one foster home to another and ended up working for those evil Baxter brothers in that garage in the desert. I was their prisoner until Randy rescued me. Ever since then he's been my hero. He took me on as his boy and then adopted me. He taught me to be tough and how to fight."

He looked plaintively at Mark. "But, see ... that's all I've got, sir. Before I met Randy I was nothing – pushed around, abused, never belonged anywhere – and I'm afraid of being that again. But now I am someone, someone important coz I'm the boss's boy. The other guys don't like me coz I have to keep proving it. Thing is ... I guess I'm scared that if one day I'm not Randy's boy anymore I'll just be one of the boys. Can you understand that, sir?"

"Jeez," Mark grinned kindly, "that is really fucked up, kiddo."

"I know it is, sir, though I'd never tell anyone else. But I try to be just like Randy `coz he's the big, tough boss, and he's fucked up sometimes too, like when he hits Bob. Sir, I didn't want to fight with Jamie but now that he's all confident and tough and all the boys look up to him, I was scared he'd take my place as senior boy so I had to show him who's boss."

"Didn't work out so well, though, did it?" Mark smiled.

Pablo smiled his crooked grin. "No, sir. And I sure didn't want to hurt Brandon. I love that kid, and so does everyone else. I wish I could make it up to him, sir."

"Well, that part's easy," Mark said. "As I understand it, when work starts on Pete's house you're gonna be in charge of the crew and Brandon will be in charge of supplies and inventory, so you'll be working closely together."

"Yeah, I thought about that and I'm gonna treat him real special, sir."

"But see, kiddo, the last thing Brandon wants is special treatment just because he's in a wheelchair. That's his big thing. Unlike you he just wants to be one of the boys, treated like everyone else." Mark grinned. "Just don't push over his wheelchair."

"Yeah, I get that, sir. And that's why I love him. That's a guy who has real guts."

There was silence for a moment, then Mark smiled at him. "Tell me something, Pablo. You still got that boner in your shorts?"

Pablo looked surprised. "Well, now that you mention it ... no I don't, sir. Guess it's all that talk."

"Exactly, Pablo. Listen, when we started out on this trip I knew you would want to fuck with me – most guys do – and I know how horny you are. But I didn't want it to be all physical. Sex is easy and I didn't want you to just get off on the handsome stud cop and his big muscles. So to get that out of the way I teased you, stripping naked and all that, and I knew you wanted to sleep with me. It was only when you blew your load in bed that you finally fell asleep."

Pablo felt suddenly a bit foolish, with all his tough talk yesterday, thinking he had Mark fooled. So he looked down at his plate and finished his breakfast in silence. Mark felt a wave of affection and admiration for the tough young kid who had been so abused most of his life until he met Randy, and he sympathized with everything Pablo had explained to him. He reached across the table, put his finger under the boy's chin and lifted it up.

"You know something, kiddo? I'm starting to like you – and I hope you're starting to like me, not just my body. Hey, what say we go for a run along the beach? You up for that?"

Again Pablo's crooked smile. "You bet, sir. I'd like that a whole lot."

They put on swim trunks and loose shirts and went down to the pool and to the gate that led down the steep path to the beach. At the gate they left their shirts with the young attendant who gazed at them tongue-tied. Soon they were running shoulder-to-shoulder along the beach and Pablo was feeling great – freer than he had felt for a long time. Getting all that stuff off his chest was a huge relief for him, not only because he was opening up to Mark but because it helped him understand why he behaved the way he did. And he wasn't especially proud of it.

He noticed heads turning toward them all along the beach, jaws dropping at the sight of the magnificent blond specimen of manhood. But it wasn't so much the physical admiration that pleased him but the mere fact that he was with Mark – and that Mark was starting to like him. He realized now that, despite his earlier macho bravado, that's what he wanted most – for Mark to like him. He grinned at Mark and commented on all the admiring looks.

"Ah, you get used to it. What the hell, enjoy it while you've got it, I say." Pablo laughed, feeling proud and privileged to be the companion of this amazing man, splashing through the shallow surf on this glorious Southern California day.

After a mile or two they turned back and when they climbed back up the path to the hotel they were hot and tired so they plunged into the big salt-water pool. When they climbed out the attendant handed them towels and asked, "Will you be taking lunch by the pool, sirs?" evidently hoping the answer would be yes.

"Hey, this is the life, eh, sir?" Pablo said, stretching out on a chaise next to Mark, with a couple of young waiters hovering over them with wine and a salad. As they ate lunch Mark said, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier, kiddo. I understand how you feel but I think you're selling yourself short. Being Randy's boy is not `all you got' as you said.

"I mean, you think Randy adopted you just because you're good with your fists? No way. I think it was because he saw so much of himself in you – a kid who's always had a tough life, bravely standing up for himself and making his way through life despite all the obstacles.

"Why do you think guys like Bob, me and Steve all seem so well-adjusted? It's because we had all the advantages growing up. Guys like you and Randy had to make it on your own, you had to learn to be tough and it took a lot of courage. I really believe the other boys admire you, though you make it real hard the way you treat them. You've got a great lover in Darius and you're a natural leader, Pablo. And that won't change if you relax and become `just one of the boys.' They'll look up to you if you just stop beating them up. You hear what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I hear you, sir. Thanks, that helps a lot."

"Would you care for more wine, sir?" That was the waiter, a young man who had been hovering (and drooling) most of the time. "Thanks, that'd be great," Mark smiled.

"Jeez," Pablo grinned, "I wonder who's having lunch round here. That guy looked like he wanted to eat you for lunch and dinner."

From then on they huddled conspiratorially checking out the staff and guests who were glancing at them and pretending not to. They were like two horny buddies scoping out the talent around the pool ... "that waiter's a real looker but he's skinny" ... "yeah, and the other one's not so cute but look at the awesome bod on him. Pity they can't switch heads."

Pablo grinned. "Maybe we should kick it up a notch. Watch this sir." He turned over on his stomach and pushed his swim trunks tight under him so they stretched over the flawless globes of his amazing ass. "What's the reaction, sir?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

Three waiters immediately came close and one said, "Is there anything else we can do for you, sirs? – and he definitely wasn't talking about wine. "There's your answer, kiddo," Mark chuckled. "Come on let's get out of this meat market before we become dessert."

Upstairs in the room their talk turned, like any two jocks, to sports. Pablo's game was soccer and he talked eagerly about the local team, the L.A. Galaxy. "Beckham's long gone but it didn't make much difference, but their defense is still a bit weak. Goalie works overtime. They're playing Seattle today. Hey what's the time? Game's on right now.

"Let's check it out," Mark said, picking up the TV remote and browsing through the channels. "That's it, that's it," said Pablo excitedly. "Oh shit, they're losing one-nil." From then on all his concentration was on the screen. Mark got beer and pretzels from the mini-bar and, as they sat together on the couch, he found the boy's enthusiasm contagious as Pablo jumped up and down in his seat, yelling at the screen. "Come on, asshole, pass, pass, get rid of the ball ... shit I knew it ... look at that fucking moron ... the other guy was placed just right for a shot."

And so the energetic curses, cheers, instructions and obscenities poured out of Pablo who unthinkingly gripped Mark's arm every time the tension built, especially when Galaxy evened the match with a goal. Mark was elated by Pablo's noisy high spirits and saw a whole new side of him, a rowdy young kid excited by a soccer match, far removed from the insecure `boss's boy' who was too busy proving himself to let his guard down.

This was the real Pablo – and Mark loved it. The tension reached a fever pitch when the game went into overtime, still even at 1-1. The seconds were counting down, game nearly over when Galaxy's Mc Bean burst from the pack, dribbled the ball down the field ... and passed. The ball arched high in the air ... and Gordon headed it into the net, just before the final whistle.

"Yes, yes, yes...!!" Pablo was on his feet jumping with excitement, pumping his fists in the air. "Brilliant ... fucking brilliant." He grabbed Mark's arms, pulled him to his feet and hugged him tight. Turning him round and round he impulsively kissed Mark on the lips, so breathlessly that he exhaled hard into his mouth.

Caught up in the excitement Mark returned the kiss gently, then harder, then hungrily and passionately. Their bodies pressed together Mark pulled Pablo round the room, turning, turning until he picked the boy up bodily, carried him across the room and threw him down on the bed.

At a fever pitch of excitement Pablo gazed up at the spectacular cop who feverishly dropped his swim trunks, spat in the palm of his hand and grabbed his cock as it sprung out, hard as a cop's baton. The loud clamor of post-game cheers from the TV could not drown out their wildly beating hearts as Mark fell to his knees on the bed, pushed two fingers in his mouth then into Pablo's ass. He pushed his legs high in the air, gazed into the boy's sparkling eyes ... and drove his cock deep into his ass.

Pablo's cheers suddenly became howls of ecstasy as he threw his head back and yielded to the cop's massive rod pumping his ass. "Oh man," Mark groaned, "that ass is so fucking hot. Give it to me, boy. It's what you wanted all along – to get your gorgeous ass ploughed by the cop."

"Yes, sir, I wanted it so bad it made me cum in bed." He reached up and cupped his hands round Mark's pecs, digging his fingers into the solid flesh. Please fuck me, sir. I'm sorry for all the stupid things I've done. God, that feels so damned hot... please...fuck my ass, sir."

Mark was expert at driving a boy wild. He fucked slowly, gently, then increased the power, plunging his shaft in deep like a piston and bringing the boy to the brink of orgasm when he suddenly stopped, paused, then slowly began over again. And all the time noise blared from the TV, heightening the exhilaration on the bed. Mark found himself matching his fuck to the soccer action which was now into highlight replays.

As the cheers mounted and the enthusiasm of the commentator grew more intense, Mark's cock pistoned harder. Pablo was flying in a wild mix of emotions, hearing the excitement mounting at the match, feeling the exquisite pain of Mark's pounding rod, and gazing up at the naked muscle-god taking possession of his ass.

When the replay began of Galaxy's first goal Mark stared into Pablo's eyes with laser intensity. Pablo heard the cheers growing, felt the shaft pile driving his ass, saw in his mind the buildup to the goal as he looked up at the cop and, felt his sweat dripping on him. "Here it comes, boy," Mark said, his muscles flexing as his body pounded down on him.

The commentator took over. "It's an incredible break, look at that, Keane's sprinting down the outside, getting closer and closer, he's clear, he's clear ... he shoots ... and it's a goal!!"

"Aaaagh ... Aaaagh..." Pablo cheered and shot a long ribbon of cum over his chest, moaning loudly as juice kept spurting from his cock. Finally, his heartbeat slowed ... Game over.

But it wasn't. He looked up at Mark and saw him smiling, his cock still moving inside him. Mark hadn't cum. The game was still a draw. The winning goal was still to come. The noise from the TV had abated a little as the commentators shared comments on the game. The rod moved gently inside him, Pablo gazed up at Mark's smiling eyes set in his chiseled features ... and he felt his own cock getting hard again.

The commentator was setting up the final playback clip. Mark and Pablo could hear the excitement building at the match – and inside them. Mark fell forward and pinned Pablo's wrists to the bed. The boy had the exquisite sensation of being the cop's prisoner, his arms pinned, his ass impaled on the long pole. "You ready for the big finish, boy?" Mark grinned. "Like I told you before, you're a winner, kid. Let's prove it."

Once again the roar of cheers was building louder and louder and Mark's eyes blazed as his cock hammered Pablo's ass faster and faster. The commentator's voice was hoarse. "Game's almost over, folks, final seconds ... but here comes McBean, racing away from the pack. Can he do it?" Pablo's cock was rock hard but he had only just shot a load, so Mark fucked harder than ever. "Look at those feet, pounding harder and harder, he's almost there ... he passes to Gordon, this is incredible ... Gordon leaps to head the ball ... He shoots ... And it's a goaaal !!"

Mark slammed his cock into the inner depths of the boy's ass. Pablo felt hot juice shooting inside him ... he struggled and screamed as he blasted another load of jizz over his writhing body. He stared wildly up at Mark, blown away by an unbelievable multimedia climax far from anything he had never experienced in his life.

Mark fell on top of Pablo and smiled into his eyes. "Now that, kiddo, was a winning goal if ever I saw one."

From then on the whole dynamic of the trip changed. The psych talk was out of the way, the sexual tension too.

"I'm sure glad we're staying a second day," Mark said. "Now we can cut the bullshit, share the bed and I can make love to you like I wanted to last night. It's partly because you're such a gorgeous young stud but mostly `cos I've come to like you a lot, and I hope we can be buddies. Sometimes inner beauty is even more sexy than physical looks. I'll take love over lust any day."

"I'll take them both, sir," said Pablo with his crooked grin.

Mark ruffled the boy's hair. "And, you know what this means? We can finally shower together, which is what I wanted since we got here. So what say we soap each other up in a nice long shower, then get all dressed up and go downstairs, have a drink at the bar and watch the sunset? We'll have an early dinner in the dining room then come back up here and ... well you do the math. I'm looking forward to the next 24 hours. I hope Jamie and Randy are having as much fun as we are."

"Me too," said Pablo," though a flicker of doubt passed over his face, thinking of how Randy was when he was angry – and he was good and angry when they left. Pablo knew his master only too well – how he wanted to own everything and everyone. Still, Jamie could take care of himself ... and he could always call Mark.

Pablo's fears turned out to be prescient. The previous evening Randy and Jamie's trip had begun more or less the same as Mark and Pablo's – in silence. As usual Randy drove his truck fast up the winding Angeles Crest Highway and several times Jamie glanced over his shoulder through the rear window to make sure that the rowboat was still firmly secured in the back.

Jamie knew that Randy resented the idea of the trip but he felt safe after the assurances of Bob, Steve and, most importantly, Mark, that he would be well-treated by Randy. Still, it was disturbing to see Randy's grim face and clenched jaw, his fists curled round the steering wheel.

Randy's anger after his humiliation by Mark and Jamie was still festering and Jamie could almost read his thoughts. `What the fuck am I doing here? Fucking cockamamie idea. Shouldn't have let myself be sweet-talked by Bob and Steve. Still, I'll get some fishing out of it, and get myself a piece of this kid's ass – show him I'm a better fuck than the cop.'

Contrary to what was happening at that moment in Mark's Mercedes, where Mark skillfully broke down Pablo's animosity, it was Jamie who broke the ice here. It was to become a pattern of role reversal where Mark was the master to Pablo, but Jamie assumed the role of lion tamer to a resistant Randy.

"Thank you for bringing me up here, sir," Jamie said."

"Uh – yeah sure."

The brusque, taciturn response didn't put Jamie off. "See, I've never done much fishing, sir, I'm always surfing, and the guys say you're real skilled at it and the best teacher. I gotta admit I always thought of fishing as a kinda laid-back activity, not a serious way to feed a guy."

It was at once flattery and a challenge and Randy rose to both. He began gruffly at first. "Well you got that wrong, boy. Shit, back in Texas when I was taking care of my five brothers we'd have starved sometimes if we hadn't caught fish. I taught them all – like I taught them a whole bunch o' things, like how to fight." Jamie had by chance hit on a topic dear to Randy's heart, one he liked to talk about, and he warmed to the subject now.

"Tough life it was for a band of gypsies always on the move, me looking for construction jobs wherever I could. But I held things together and never let my boys go hungry. When the work ran out we went fishing and pulled up potatoes and vegetables from farmers' fields. Those fish kept us going, fed all of us ..." he grinned for the first time ... "bit like that stuff in the Bible –feeding the crowd with fish. Just ask my kid brother Ben. He caught more fish than anyone."

Jamie saw the glow in Randy's eyes, saw his jaw and fists relax. Just as Mark had been impressed by Pablo's description of his early life, Jamie found his admiration for Randy growing as he realized how tough and ruthless he must have been in those days to protect his brothers. He had a strong protective instinct that was still a part of him and explained why he had leapt to his defense of Pablo when he was beaten in the fight.

Jamie was eager to hear more. "I bet you got a lot of stories from those days, sir."

"Boy, I could tell you stories would make your hair curl – if it wasn't already." (Another quick grin). "Like the time we all ..." And he was off, reliving the dangers and triumphs of that hard-scrabble life in West Texas, fighting for the survival of his young gypsy brothers. He wasn't boasting or exaggerating, just telling the story like it was.

Jamie looked at the handsome profile, the rugged features, stubbled jaw, long black hair and steel blue eyes smiling as he gazed at the road ahead and told his story. For the first time Jamie really understood why they called him the King of the Gypsies.

By the time they were bumping over the rough track toward the lake the coolness had evaporated and Jamie's admiration – even affection – for Randy was stronger than ever. To be in the man's presence was to feel his strength, his no-holds-barred determination, an alpha male without equal. To be with him was to feel safe – from external forces at least.

On the other hand he felt some anxiety about Randy himself. For most of the drive, while Randy was engrossed in his story, his hand had wandered over Jamie's leg and even over his crotch. Jamie was so turned on sitting next to the rugged hero of the tales he was hearing that he couldn't help his dick getting hard in his shorts. And he felt resentment when he noticed the self-satisfied smile on Randy's face.

This was the arrogant side of him, an arrogance born of the very same toughness and determination that were most admirable in him. He had brought his young family through hell and high water against all the odds, brought them safely to manhood, so now he strode through his world like a giant – he could do anything he wanted, have anything he wanted. And Jamie knew what he wanted.

Such thoughts were pushed to the background as they arrived at the small beach by the lake that Randy had discovered a long time ago, a remote, beautiful refuge for him where no-one else ever came (except for the Ranger, Pete – but that's another story.)

Together they unloaded the rowboat, the small barbecue and all their gear that they set up under the trees at the back of the beach. Randy looked down at Jamie on his knees, shirtless, spreading out the blankets, his back muscles rippling, his surfer shorts stretched tight over the flawless cheeks of his ass.

Randy was always horny after a long drive and now he impulsively lent down, slapped Jamie's ass lightly and pushed his fingers in the crack. "Mmm, real nice. You surfer boys sure have great butts – good enough to eat out and fuck."

Jamie leapt to his feet, whirled round and confronted Randy with a defiant look in his eye. Not the reaction Randy expected – not the reaction he usually got from Pablo and his "Yes, please, sir." Taken aback Randy quickly recovered and mumbled, "Later boy." The look of hurt and disappointment on the blond kid's face somehow moved him and he tried to put the clumsy incident behind him – though he was still gonna fuck that ass.

"OK, boy. It's dusk now, the best time of day for fishing. You can see their snouts break the surface as they search for food. Well we've got food for them. Let's load the bait and the rods and help me carry the boat." In a few minutes they were shoving off into the lake, with Randy rowing strongly and Jamie in the stern facing him, each of them wearing just shorts.

Randy looked magnificent as he pulled on the oars, his shoulders and biceps bulging, pecs and abs flexing with each stroke. Jamie gazed in awe at his swarthy gypsy face, his black hair flopping over his high forehead, jaw clenched in concentration. Jamie knew that it was every boy's dream to be alone with this man, gliding over the placid lake. Any boy would happily trade places with him ... and yet.

Of course Randy was a sex god, a huge turn on, but that's not what Jamie wanted ... not yet. This trip was about getting to know each other and Jamie instinctively knew that a quick fuck could easily lead to a couple of days of raw sex and little else. No, he wanted to know Randy – and he wanted Randy to know him. After that ... well, things could take their natural course.

Fortunately, focused activity again masked their confusing thoughts as Randy became the teacher, explaining how to find exactly the right place to anchor, the fine points of hooking bait, casting the lines, and then the patience for waiting. Waiting and talking.

Inevitably Randy mentioned Bob and that set Jamie off on a paean of praise for his boss, how great it was to work with him, what a perfect man Bob was. It was music to Randy's ears and he listened attentively, even when Jamie segued into the story of his own early life of abandonment, hooking up with a gang of skinheads, running wild until he and a buddy had ended up fighting with the boys at the house.

"It was Bob who saved me," Jamie reminisced, "don't you remember? He must have seen some good in me and he persuaded Mark not to charge me and to release us into his custody instead of taking us to jail. I guess I kinda owe my life to Bob, sir."

Randy had forgotten the boy's troubled history – saw him now only as a mature, productive member of the group, running the business office under Bob's supervision. Some transformation, he thought, staring at him. But when Jamie leaned over the side of the boat to free a snagged line Randy again got a close-up of his ass and his cock stiffened. "Gotta have it," he said to himself.

They caught more than enough food for dinner and Jamie showed off the barbecue skills he had been taught by the twins. The same full moon that was shining at that moment across Mark's naked body, much to the frustration of Pablo, now cast its silver light over Jamie as he concentrated on the barbecue.

Randy was lying on his back, propped on his elbows, sipping beer, and his eyes travelled slowly over the surfer's handsome young face, down over the lithe, athletic body ... and the ass, that flawless ass. "God he's gorgeous," Randy murmured, stroking the raging hard-on in his shorts.

As they ate, conversation still flowed amicably enough, though there was an edge to it now as bedtime was approaching and that's where their appetites diverged. Jamie did not want a business-as-usual deal where Randy fucked the boy's ass before falling asleep, but that's exactly what Randy wanted – and expected.

And that's where he got his second surprise of the trip – and his second rejection. It was one of those warm Southern California summer nights where the heat of the day lingers, so they intended to sleep on blankets under the trees. While Randy made sure the coals were properly extinguished in the barbecue Jamie dropped his shorts, lay down on one of the blankets and pulled a sheet up to cover his cock, just as Mark had done at the hotel.

And just as Pablo had gazed at Mark, so Randy turned and looked down at the golden boy, his eyes closed, breathing evenly. The gypsy's cock felt like it would explode and his lust took over. `What the fuck?' he thought. "I don't have to pussyfoot around the kid like this. I'm a man who wants to fuck ass, and when I want to fuck – I fuck. I don't have to ask anyone's damn permission. I'm the boss for fuck's sake – I take what I want.'

Jamie was half asleep when Randy dropped his shorts, feel to his knees and shoved the boy's legs in the air. "See this, boy? It's the master's cock and it's going where it belongs – in your hot ass."

"No, sir!" Jamie pleaded pulling himself away. "Please don't, sir. Don't spoil it. I was having such a good time with you, sir, in this awesome place. If you fuck me you'll spoil everything. Please, sir. Don't force me to get fucked."

Randy hesitated in confusion. He was not used to rejection and didn't know how to handle it. He looked down at the young, scared face, the face he found so beautiful, and he decided to cut his losses. "OK, kid, forget it. It's your loss ... most boys dream of getting fucked by me." He got to his feet. "Anyway, I gotta take a piss." He turned away and disappeared into the trees.

Jamie was unnerved and for a few seconds considered running away and calling Mark. But he knew Randy was not the savage he was sometimes made out to be. He had talked to Bob enough to know how kind and gentle Randy could be, how protective. He remembered the affection Randy showed to Brandon and felt deep down that he was not in danger. So he took a deep breath, turned over on his stomach and tried to sleep.

He didn't know that Randy was only a few yards away, looking at him through the trees. His mind was a turmoil of frustration, anger and a burning need to bust his load. He looked at the beautiful body in the moonlight.

In his fuck attempt Randy had pulled the sheet off Jamie who now lay face down butt naked, his arms stretched up, blond hair curling round the nape of his neck, his strong back arching up, then sloping down to his slim waist before rising up again over the white, rounded globes of his perfect ass. The tan lines were distinct above and below the mounds, accentuating their paleness in the silver moonlight.

It was a spectacular ass and Randy reflexively stroked his cock. It was already bursting for release and he moaned, "I wanna fuck that ass, I want you boy, I wanna fuck you Jamie ... I can feel my cock in that sweet ass ... I'm gonna cum in it ... gonna cum ... gonna cum... Aaah, he breathed as his cock erupted in a blast of semen that had been building since the trip began and now sprayed all over the leaves that were hiding him.

"Shit, shit, shit," he moaned softly, but his massive orgasm had temporarily quenched his lust and he shook his cock and emerged onto the beach. His cock was still dripping as he lay down on the blanket beside Jamie and, with a last look at his face, angelic in sleep, he too closed his eyes and slept.

It would have surprised him to know that, at almost the same moment, his boy Pablo had blasted his own jizz in his `wet dream' gazing at Jamie's master, the cop.

The sleep of both man and boy was filled with dreams, ironically about the same thing – Jamie getting his ass fucked by Randy. Jamie's dreams were so vivid that his arm was draped over Randy's back when Randy woke. Randy's first thought was, `Ah, he's coming around. He wants it – I knew he would'. His second thought was how hard his own dick was, his balls near to bursting. He always had a morning hard-on when he woke and always got instant release by fucking Bob.

So now he automatically climbed on top of Jamie, licked his fingers, reached between his legs and pushed his fingers in his ass. Jamie woke with a start from a dream, turned over and tried to push Randy off. In a half-waking panic he yelled, "No ... I don't want it. He stared up at the blazing eyes in the dark demon face and struggled, but Randy reached down and grabbed his wrists in a vise-like grip.

"Come on, boy, you know you want it. Look at me ... do I look like a guy who takes no from a kid like you?" This time he meant it. It wasn't just lust now, it was a question of pride. Jamie's refusals were an insult, a challenge to his virility, and he was damn-well gonna show the boy who was boss. He bent down and clamped his mouth over Jamie's, grinding their lips together.

Jamie's panic turned to anger and he fought back. Struggling mightily under the massive body he knew there was only one thing to do, and he bit Randy's lip – hard. "Aaagh," Randy screamed, pulled back in a fit of rage and slapped Jamie's face. "Fuck you, kid... fuck you."

"No... please," Jamie whimpered. "You promised Mark – you promised Bob that you wouldn't hurt me." The mention of Bob's name shocked Randy out of his fury and he hesitated – long enough for Jamie to act. He took a deep breath and slammed his knee into Randy's balls. The big man howled in pain and rolled off Jamie, cupping his balls and writhing in the sand.

This time Jamie had to escape – and there was only one way. He jumped up and raced down to the lake. He pushed the rowboat into the water and used all his strength to shove it out into the lake and jump into it. The boat glided over the smooth, shining water, farther and farther from shore until it slowed and came to rest near the middle of the lake. He threw the anchor over the side and sat in the stern, hugging his knees.

His anger soon calmed down, replaced by disappointment more than anything else. The trip to this beautiful place had held such promise but Randy had spoiled it with his arrogance, anger, and insatiable lust. Jamie had talked to Bob often enough to understand the complexities of Randy's mind – how the fierce gypsy of his Texas years was ingrained in him still, and made him do things that were contrary to his naturally protective nature. He also knew what Randy was feeling now.

He was right. Randy was still groaning on the beach but not from the pain in his balls. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He pounded his fists into the sand, his anger now directed at himself. "You fucking asshole."

How many times had he sworn at himself after losing his cool and attacking Bob, the man he loved? And now he had hurt this boy, had almost raped him – this gentle, beautiful boy who didn't have a mean bone in his body. His inner demons had possessed him again and he had behaved like a savage. What made him do that ... lose his mind like that? Arrogance, pride, insecurity – sheer stupidity? Mark had been right – `once a caveman always a caveman'.

He looked around for Jamie and felt a stab of panic ... he was gone. He looked at the dense trees, then at the water. The boat was gone ... but not the oars. They were lying in the sand. He shielded his eyes against the sun and saw the boat bobbing gently in the middle of the lake. Without oars it was marooned – and he couldn't see Jamie. "No...!" he howled and ran naked down the beach. He launched himself into the water and swam with long, powerful strokes.

Jamie was sitting on the floor of the boat, still hugging his knees, staring down vacantly, not knowing what to do next. He thought of calling Mark but his phone was still on the beach, and he wouldn't have anyway, knowing that Mark would have broken off his trip, raced up here and there would have been a hell of a fight.

Suddenly he heard a splashing noise, the boat tilted and the wild gypsy pulled himself aboard and stood in the prow staring down at him. He was a fearsome sight with water streaming from his long black hair, over his stubbled jaw and down over his naked body, his chest heaving. His steel blue eyes pierced Jamie's like an arrow and Jamie screamed, "No – leave me alone."

He made a move to dive into the water but Randy pleaded, "Jamie, don't leave, please. I won't hurt you ... I won't even touch you ... look." He held his arms out sideways, palms open, fingers splayed, and he sank to his knees. "Please, Jamie. I won't insult you by asking you to forgive me, but let me apologize. I find it hard ever to say sorry, but I do now – on my knees."

Jamie gazed at Randy – and was swept with a feeling of compassion for this big macho male on his knees, tears welling in his eyes, begging for forgiveness despite saying he wouldn't. This was the other Randy, the gentle one who was prey to his demons, turning him into the savage gypsy that fought with his nobler self – and everyone else. He was Jekyll and Hyde all in one.

"Jamie, I promise not to touch you again. I've fucked up again like I always do. Shit damn, it's the same old story – you're so fucking beautiful I wanted to own you, like I try to own everything – Bob, Pablo, the whole fucking tribe. It's OK now, though. Don't be afraid – I'll take you home."

Jamie looked at the tears streaming down Randy's face and said, "I don't want to go home yet, sir. I want to stay with you at the lake. See, I chat to Bob a lot in the office, sir, and he talks about you all the time, the way you can be rough, hurt him sometimes, but he says it's because you love him so much. He says you're afraid of love so you lash out at it and want to own it.

But he says everything is fine when you make love to him – more than fine – he feels like he's in heaven. And that's what I dreamt of last night, sir – you making love to me." He moved on his knees close to Randy and licked the tears from his face. "You think I don't want you to touch me? That's not true. I've wanted you to touch me right from the start, only not in that fierce, possessive way you have, just hot for a fuck."

Randy stared at him in disbelief. "After all that, you ... you're saying you want me to make love to you?"

"Yes please, sir."

Randy smiled through his tears. Those three words he had longed to hear. He pulled the seats from their slots and stowed them in the stern, leaving a big clear space on the floor of the boat. He pulled a blanket from the locker and spread it on the floor. Then, ever so gently, he eased Jamie onto his back on the blanket and kissed his lips softly, then licked the cheek he had slapped. He lay next to him, they pressed their bodies together, kissed and breathed into each other's mouths.

The dark gypsy boss and the young blond surfer were making love.

When at last Randy pulled back up on his knees Jamie put his hands behind his own knees and pulled his legs back. Randy stared down at his perfect ass, with soft, downy blond hair round the hole. Randy smiled, "God, I've wanted that ... and all I had to do was ask, instead of take. He held his huge, thick dick in his hand. "You sure you want this, Jamie?"

Jamie smiled. "Like I said, sir, I dreamed about it." Randy bent down and licked the hair round his ass, then pushed his tongue in the hole as Jamie groaned in ecstasy. Randy pulled back, dipped his hand in the lake and stroked his cock. He pressed his wet cock against the hole that opened up for him and he slid his long shaft slowly, tenderly, deeper and deeper into his ass.

"That feel good, boy?"

"Feels perfect, sir. Now I know what Bob was talking about."

It was a long, slow, loving fuck that lasted a long time as Randy looked down at the handsome young face flecked with sunlight. Jamie reached up and ran his hands over the slabs of Randy's hairy chest, gazing up at the pale blue eyes in the chiseled, stubbled face. "You are so beautiful, sir, so strong, and your cock feels so good in my ass. I could lie here all day while you make love to me."

It seemed like all day as the boat rocked gently, the sun climbed higher in the sky and Randy's cock never stopped making love to Jamie's ass. Jamie was floating, in every sense of the word. Like Bob had said, he was in heaven.

"Hey, Jamie," Randy smiled down at him, "You wanna stay here a second night so we can do this some more?"

"We can do it all day and all night, if you like, sir. But ... do you think we could cum soon?"

"Thought you'd never ask, kiddo," Randy laughed. "OK, you ready ... here it comes." Randy didn't speed up, didn't pound ass the way he so often did at the end. This time cumming was just a part of making love, the inevitable climax, and the only sound was deep sighs and the lapping of the water against the boat as Randy poured his juice deep into Jamie's warm ass, and Jamie sprayed cum all over his heaving chest.

When their cocks ran dry Randy lay down behind Jamie, on their sides with his cock still in his ass. "We're gonna have a great time, Jamie," Randy breathed in his ear. "And we'll sure have enough to eat. Be like the old days with my brothers – get hungry, you just go fishing."

"Sir, how we gonna get back with no oars?"

"No sweat, kiddo. I'll tow us in. I've done it before. You take the tiller."

A short time later Jamie sat in the stern and watched Randy swimming in front of the boat, towing it with a rope round his chest, his muscular shoulders rippling in the sun as he sliced through the water. Needless to say, Jamie's cock was already hard again. "If the boys could see me now," he murmured to himself. "Wonder what they'll say when we get back."

Actually, at that very moment most of the boys were in a meeting. They were discussing the start of work on the bungalow up the hill. In Randy's absence Zack was in charge, Brandon was subbing for Jamie and Darius for Pablo. They had gathered in Brandon's apartment as it was next door to the bungalow and Brandon was serving coffee as he talked about the budget.

Randy and Zack wanted this to be the boy's project, so Pablo and Darius would be in charge of construction and Ben and Eddie would be on the crew. Brandon would be checking in the supplies and would help Jamie with the budget. Mario, as always, would be doing the landscaping. Randy, Zack and Bob would take turns checking in on them from time to time, as well as Hassan who would be keeping an eye on his boy Eddie.

So all these boys were at the meeting (except, of course, Pablo and Jamie) along with Bob and the ranger Pete, as he would be renting the house and living there with Brandon. Brandon was in fine form acting as host. "Hey, dudes," he grinned, "I'm ever scared 'coz I'll have three bosses – Pablo, Darius and Jamie."

Darius said, "Yeah, kiddo, but you better wait and see if Pablo and Jamie are still talking to each other when they get back. We don't know what's going down on those trips. Might turn out to be another slug-fest."

"Better not be," said Pete, "though with all you boys working together, who knows? You gotta be on your best behavior. Don't forget, a lot of the time I'll be right here next door."

"Aye-aye, sir," Brandon saluted, grinning mischievously at the other boys.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 253

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!