A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 320 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER: Randy and Bob's sex is interrupted by their muscle-cop buddy Mark who boasts he will plough them both. But Randy snarls, "I don't think so, cop" and soon they're gazing at the homoerotic sight of the handsome blond cop, a naked captive on hands and knees. Then Brandon and the innocent new boy Brian at last cross the line from friends to fuck-buddies. "Does the number 69 mean anything to you, dude?"

CHAPTER 320 – "THE ARROGANT COP PAYS A PRICE"

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

Randy and Bob had taken their boys, Pablo and the twins, to the desert, along with Brandon and the new boy Brian. Brian had previously lived a solitary life in the desert and was going back out to pack up his belongings, then return with Brandon to his new Los Angeles home.

But Randy had his own reason for arranging the trip – to perform an act of penance at the leather bar in the desert owned by their friend Mike. Some time ago Randy and Bob had taken a similar trip out there that had ended in disaster. On that occasion Bob had naturally been much admired by the bar patrons and in a drunken rage Randy had pulled him into the back room and proved his "ownership" by savagely abusing and humiliating Bob in front of the whole crowd.

It had been a tipping point for Bob who had walked out on Randy, which had led to their temporary separation and almost split the tribe apart. But of course they couldn't live without each other and had eventually reconciled, though ever afterwards Randy had nursed an agonizing guilt for the way he had degraded the man he loved in full public view

So now, on this current trip, their first since those traumatic events, Randy had to make amends. He told Mike, "I'm still haunted by what I did. See, I always believe that if a man fucks up as badly as I did he's gotta make amends. I gotta kill off my demons, Mike, and in my world there's only one way to do that ... an eye for an eye."

So, in the bar's windowless back room, watched by the same crowd of leathermen who had been appalled by the previous display, Randy, in a role reversal, subjected himself to punishment by Bob, who whipped him, fucked his face and then his ass, with the big gypsy tied to the wall exactly as Bob had been that first time.

And in that crucible of pain and punishment, of resentment and retribution, was forged a love so profound that it, more than anything that had gone before, was the real triumph of the day. Randy whispered, "I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you, Bob. Sometimes it may not seem like it, but I love you like crazy ... you're my life, man." And as the crowd watched spellbound, the two naked muscle-gods fell into each other's arms and made passionate love to each other.

When it was over the men were greeted as heroes, with affection for Bob and huge admiration for Randy. The bar patrons had always idolized this glorious man until his drunken, abusive behavior toward Bob, but he had now magnificently redeemed himself by enduring pain and humiliation at the hands of the lover he had wronged. Always larger than life, he now stood even taller as a giant among men.

So now Randy, Bob and their boys basked in the glow of the esteem and friendship of the patrons of the bar, not to mention drinks on the house, of course. When at last they returned to Mike's house Bob and Randy tended to their boys. Bob spent time quietly conversing with the twins, while Randy took Pablo aside and talked to him about love, respect, mistakes and forgiveness – a master teaching his boy by example.

Then Randy went over to Brandon and Brian and smiled at Brian. "So, our cute new boy ... pretty much a baptism of fire for you, eh kiddo? Hope it wasn't too much for you."

"No, sir," Brian grinned. "And if it's OK with you, sir, I'll jack off thinking about it often."

Randy laughed, "OK by me, kid, and one day soon you'll sleep with Bob and me and we'll help you do the deed."

Mike said, "So, guys, what's on your agenda for the rest of your stay in the desert? You're more than welcome to stay here, you know that."

"Thanks for the offer, Mike," Bob said. "We're pretty much playing it by ear for now but we may take you up on it. We are going out to Hassan's old house in the desert – you remember him, of course."

"That Marine stud is a hard guy to forget," Mike grinned. "And what about you, young `un?"

Brian said, "I wanna take Brandon out to my old trailer, Uncle Mike, to spend the last night there with him, before locking the door behind me for good and starting my new life."

"Also, Mike," Bob said, "you remember our buddy the cop, Mark? Well he heard what was going on out here and he's gonna try to join us. See," he grinned, "Mark, Randy and me are kind of a threesome."

"Hell," Mike chuckled, "you guys fair make my head spin. When you get together there's no knowing what's gonna happen next."

******************** Chapter 320 **********************

As they all relaxed by the pool it quickly became obvious that Randy and Bob wanted to be alone. For one thing they were continually eye-fucking each other with an intense look that Kyle later described to his twin Kevin as "mentally drooling". It was as if their eyes were talking, oblivious of the several conversations going on around them.

They had been through something of a catharsis today that had brought them closer than ever and they needed some time alone simply to hold each other and enjoy their renewed intimacy.

Mike thought Bob might make the first move, and he was right. Bob stood up and said, "Guys, if I could make a suggestion ..." As always he commanded absolute authority and everyone knew his `suggestion' was more like a decree. "Er, after all that's happened, Randy and I want go out to Hassan's desert retreat and be alone there for a while. And I know Brian wants to take Brandon out to his old trailer to pack up his things.

"So I propose that while we're gone we leave Pablo and the twins here to prepare a treat for our good buddy Mike, that's if you're agreeable, Mike. You've been real accommodating to us, so how would you like it if we gave you dinner in your own house, maybe a barbecue by the pool? The twins can go out and buy the food, then take over your kitchen where they are experts. Pablo can fire up the barbecue, and when Brandon and Brian come back from the trailer park they can help set everything up out here. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like I've died and gone to heaven," Mike grinned. "A group of gorgeous guys and their boys all gathered in my house, serving me dinner? Shit, buddy, let's do it."

So they split up. Mike went back to his bar to check that everything was running smoothly; the junior boys Brandon and Brian took off in Brandon's truck out to Twentynine Palms; and the senior boys, Pablo and the twins, huddled in the kitchen to plan arrangements for the meal.

With relief at finally being alone together, Randy and Bob jumped into Randy's truck and headed out to Hassan's desert house. They drove in silent contemplation for a few minutes letting the tension of the last few hours drain away. Then Randy said, "Damn it's good to be alone with you, buddy. Sometimes I think I'd like to go back to the days when it was just the two of us – me a construction worker and you a businessman."

"Living in that sleazy motel room?" Bob smiled. "I admit it had its charms but I think I've got a bit too used to the good life. Besides, when it was just you and me you were a wild man with no one to hold you in check. I think I've still got the bruises," he chuckled.

"Yeah, there is that," Randy shrugged. "Shit, I could be a real dickhead back then."

"Yeah, but you were my dickhead – still are sometimes – and I wouldn't have it any other way. If you were perfect life would be a lot less exciting. Besides, look what we've accomplished – the company, the tribe. I couldn't be without my twins and I bet you'd miss Pablo."

"Damn right. I love that kid – it's why I adopted him. He's coming along real well don't ya think?"

"Yes he is, though he's still got your wild streak in him. Hell, Randy, if you want to know how the boy's doing just look in the mirror. He copies everything you do – the way you walk, talk, behave, everything. He totally worships you."

Randy grinned with pride and his usual touch of arrogance. "Yeah, I guess he does at that. It must have been tough for him to watch me in the bar getting trashed by you. But I think he's learning to control his anger. Remember that rivalry there used to be between him and Mark's boy Jamie? Well they patched that up and realized they were hot for each other but would never admit it. Did you know that whenever they're alone together they fuck?

"Randy, I know most everything that goes on in that house. And what bits I don't know I ask Darius, Mr. Megaphone. That guy knows and records everything. I believe he's compiling a history of the tribe."

"Yeah, I know. Wonder what he'll call it?"

They mused on that for a while and then pulled up at Hassan's little desert hideaway. Each knew that the other had a stiffening dick in his shorts as they unlocked the front door and went inside. "Bit of a mess," Randy said, looking around. "Hassan told me he brought his boy Eddie here about a month ago. I guess the Marine Captain expects juniors to tidy up after him and Eddie was too busy shooting his mouth off."

"I don't think so," Bob said from the bedroom door. "Looks like they were too busy doing this."

Randy joined him and grinned at the disheveled bed – rumpled sheets strewn with towels and underwear, pillows on the floor, ropes hanging from the bedposts. "Looks like the soldier gave his kid quite a workout." He smiled roguishly at Bob. "Guess there's no point cleaning it up right now."

"Guess not," said Bob. There was a suspenseful pause ... and then suddenly they were clawing at each other, tearing each other's clothes off – T-shirts, pants, underwear – and they fell naked on the bed, writhing, wrestling, kissing frantically. When their frenzy abated Bob ended up lying on his back, with Randy kneeling over him.

Their eyes met and Randy smiled, "See, buddy, that's my world – right there in your eyes. We don't need to live separate from others. Every time you look in my eyes we're in our own private world ... nobody else exists ... and there's only one thing I wanna do. Make love to you."

He did something Bob rarely saw – he reached over to a jar of lube, dipped his fingers in and lubed his cock. Normally the most Bob could expect was a gob of spit on Randy's cock and he now tingled with anticipation at what this foretold – a long, gentle fuck with no hint of the savagery the wild gypsy usually resorted to.

And gentle was exactly what Bob got. He raised his legs and felt the familiar, exquisite sensation of Randy's huge tool pushing gently against his hole, passing over the sphincter and sliding slowly deeper and deeper and finally over the inner sphincter before coming to rest in the warm depths of his ass. Bob gazed up at the pale blue eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Man, this is what I live for. Stay still, don't move, Randy ... let me feel you filling my ass ... it's so perfect, I want you to stay inside me like this forever."

"I am inside you forever, buddy – in your eyes, in your mind, in your breathing when you sleep, your step when you walk ... and in your ass when we make love. That's what happened to me the day we met in that motel. I fell in love and entered you, and it's the only place I can live now." His face broke into a gleaming smile. "But I can't stay still, buddy, I do have to move. You bring me alive ... like this ..."

His hips rose slowly as he pulled his long cock slowly back, almost all the way out and paused, causing a frisson of panic in Bob that he would stop fucking him. "Just teasing, dude," Randy grinned, then eased all the way back inside. And that began one of the most impassioned, sensuous fucks Randy had ever bestowed on his lover, the culmination of a sequence of emotions, passing through guilt, retribution, forgiveness and finally the inevitable act of pure, shining love.

Maybe it came from the churning passions of his wild gypsy roots, but Randy was a master of the savage fuck and equally capable of exquisite love and affection that now held Bob spellbound. He stroked, cajoled, teased, tormented as Bob gazed up at the piercing blue eyes and ran his hands over the gypsy face, the stubbled chin, neck, shoulders and the slabs of his chest, glorying in the look, the feel, the virile essence of the man he loved so much.

And so it continued as the two men made endless love in the silent room of the small house with only the whisper of the desert wind outside, rising and falling to match the cadences of their passion. If this had been Randy's habitual ferocious fuck Bob would, at this point, have howled in submission. But now his surrender came in a whispered, "I'm real close, buddy. Make me cum, Randy. I want to cum for you."

"You know I can do that whenever I want," Randy smiled. "Just like this ..."

He pushed in deep, Bob saw himself reflected in the limpid pools of Randy's eyes and they entered that secret world known only to them. Bob felt his lover's cock swell inside him as it bathed the inner depths of his ass in a flood of semen. His body tensed, he dug his fingers into the solid mounds of Randy's pecs and opened his mouth in an otherworldly howl of pure joy. Randy smiled with a hint of triumph as he watched his man spray juice over his heaving chest.

"If that's not love," Randy grinned, "then love don't exist." He fell forward and wrapped his strong arms protectively round Bob, keeping the world at bay. Physically and emotionally drained they closed their eyes and fell asleep.

"You guys are under arrest!" The deep voice of authority made Randy open one eye, grin and growl, "I don't think so, officer." He closed his eyes again but Bob stirred in his arms and looked up to see Mark looming in the doorway in full police uniform.

Bob flashed a delighted smile. "Am I dreaming of the most gorgeous cop in the world or are we about to get arrested? What you gonna do, officer, tie me down to your motorcycle and fuck the shit out of me like you did that young jock, Tommy?"

"The hell he is." Randy stirred awake and they lay on their backs looking up at the smiling cop.

"Hey guys," Mark said. "Word went out on the grapevine – you know, Darius spoke to Jamie, blah, blah, blah – that something major was going down out here between my two best buddies. So like any good cop I had to check it out ... couldn't let you guys have all the fun.

"So as soon as I got off work I didn't even stop long enough to change out of my uniform ... I pulled Jamie in the truck and we drove out here. We stopped at Mike's house, he said you had come out here, so I dropped Jamie off and ... here I am." He grinned, "Looks like I kinda missed the main event, though."

"Oh," said Randy stroking his stubbled chin, "I don't know about that. "What d'ya think, Bob? Shall we let the cop share the nest?"

"Hmm, dunno. The price of admission is pretty steep. I mean, first of all, the uniform has to go. It intimidates me."

"Yeah right, intimidates you so bad you cream your shorts. But I know watching that uniform come off is one of your favorite things, and never let it be said my man doesn't get what he wants. So do it, officer."

Mark knew exactly what Randy was talking about. In that respect Bob was like Mark's boy Jamie who loved watching Mark strip off his uniform prior to fucking his ass. So Mark grinned and slowly undid the top buttons of his black shirt, then pushed a hand inside and ran it over the white T-shirt underneath, feeling the shape of his rock hard pecs. He squeezed his nipple through his T-shirt and with his other hand stroked the bulge in his pants.

"That turn you on, buddy?" Randy asked Bob.

"Damn right." They pulled themselves back to the head of the bed and sat propped up on pillows stroking their dicks while they watched the show.

Mark unbuttoned his shirt all the way down and pulled the tail out of his waistband, letting the shirt flap open over the T-shirt stretched over the contours of his chest and abs. Then he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with three bottles of beer. He tossed two on the bed, opened his own and threw his head back drinking deeply.

He leaned back against the wall facing the bed and propped his elbows back on a dresser. He lounged there looking at them through hooded eyes, the image of a hot cop in a porn drawing.

"Fucking turn on, don't you think, buddy?" Randy said. "Remember that time at the hotel when the room-service waiter, Tommy, did the strip routine that he did for other hotel guests like a rent boy. We should make the cop do the same. You'd like the fantasy of a hot, macho cop being made to strip for money like a hustler, wouldn't you, dude? I seem to recall that when you two first met the cop pulled your car over and made you strip for him in exchange for not writing you a ticket. Seems to me it's payback time, eh?

"Right there with you, buddy. OK, cop," Bob growled ... "lose the shirt."

Assuming the role of porn cop, wanting above all to please Bob, Mark shrugged off the shirt and walked round the room in his black pants, high motorcycle boots, and the white T-shirt hugging his torso, short sleeves pushed back above his bulging biceps. The tall blond cop with chiseled features and sculpted physique looked at one of the mirrors and admired himself, flexing his torso under the T-shirt.

"Holy shit," Bob breathed, pounding his hard cock."

"Don't cum yet, buddy," Randy cautioned. "Long way to go yet. We're gonna get our money's worth out of this hustler cop. OK, officer, seems like you're getting off on your own fucking bod. Think you're hot stuff, eh? Right, so let's see it, stud. Let's see what you got."

Mark grinned. "When you see my body you're gonna want to feel the cop's huge dick up your ass, both of you." Arrogantly he paced round the room before reaching behind his head and tugging up on the back of his T-shirt. Bob stopped stroking his cock to prevent his climax as he watched mesmerized while the shirt rose slowly up the cop's body, revealing the tight waist, the eight-pack abs, muscled pecs and broad shoulders until the shirt came off and he was stripped to the waist in black uniform pants and motorcycle boots.

It was a stunning sight that always stirred lust in Bob and some envy in Randy, knowing how much Mark turned Bob on. Mark raised his arms and flexed his biceps in a bodybuilder pose. "See that? You want that muscle-god's shaft inside you? Sure you do ... one after the other. Or maybe you'd prefer this ..." He pulled his night stick off his belt, stroked the length of the black, hard-rubber pole in his fist, then threw it on the bed. "Later guys."

He sat in a chair and pulled off his boots, then stood up, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and let them drop, along with his shorts. He stepped out of them, and raised his arms to the sides buck naked, displaying his magnificent body and his long, thick cock standing erect as a pole. "OK, guys, you pay double for both of you to feel my rod in your ass. So which of you motherfuckers wants to go first?"

"I guess that would be me," Randy said. "Shove over buddy and lie still while to cop ploughs my ass." Mark walked forward, knelt on the bed raised Randy's legs and hung them over his shoulders. Gazing down at the swarthy gypsy he grinned, "So, the big construction boss gets butt-fucked by the cop. Here it comes, stud ..."

"I don't think so, cop," Randy snarled. He crossed his legs behind Mark's neck, locked his ankles and squeezed them in a tight neck scissors, using all the strength in his powerful thighs to force Mark onto his side on the bed, helplessly trapped, pulling frantically at his rival's legs in a futile attempt to pry them apart.

"Quick," Randy shouted to Bob ..."the handcuffs." Working in perfect sync Bob read his mind and pulled two sets of handcuffs from the officer's belt on the floor. He locked one cuff of each set to the low rail at the foot of the bed while Randy forced Mark onto his stomach facing the rail and pushed his arms up to the bar. Bob quickly locked a wrist to each of the cuffs so he was chained to the bar by his own handcuffs, his body stretched upward on his stomach.

Bob realized that Mark had been strong enough to power out of Randy's attack but chose not to, despite his loud protests. "What the fuck you doing? Back off, guys ..." His muscular body writhed as he tugged at his chained wrists and snarled, "When I get out of this you assholes are gonna be so fucking arrested."

Randy chuckled and Bob almost lost it, amused by the absurdity of Mark's threat. Randy grinned at Bob and nodded, and again they worked as a team. Bob pulled up on Mark's shoulders, Randy pulled up his hips and the cop was suddenly kneeling on all fours, arms braced, hands gripping the bar he was cuffed to.

"Shit damn," Randy said, "that is so damn hot, man," as he walked round the bed staring down at the naked cop on hands and knees, their captive. Mark looked up at the fierce, naked gypsy reflected in the mirror, his lust-filled blue eyes gleaming like lasers. He knew he was at Randy's mercy and groaned, "What you gonna do to me, man?"

"Hmm," Randy mused, picking up the police night stick that Mark had thrown on the bed and stroking it in his fist. "Not as thick as my own rod but it'll do to soften you up for the main event."

He dipped his fingers in the jar of lube by the bed and greased up the long, rubber billy-club. Mark saw everything in the big wall mirror and groaned, "No ... not my own fucking baton, man."

Bob knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed, grabbed Mark's blond hair and pulled his face up so they were eye to eye. Bob smiled at the blue-gray eyes and said seductively, "You'd do it for me, Mark, wouldn't you?" knowing that Mark could deny him nothing.

"Fuck you, man," Mark moaned, but further words were stifled by Bob's warm mouth closing over his in a sensuous, tongue-searching kiss. Mark's groans suddenly grew louder as he felt the hard rubber of the baton sliding into his ass. His instinct was to pull back from Bob and howl in protest but Bob clamped his hand behind Mark's head, trapping him in a voracious kiss.

Randy worked carefully, teasing Mark's ass with only the first six inches of the billy-club, easing it in and out, knowing the erotic effect it had on the captive cop. Mark's rigid cock was bulging, pointing down at the bed as he felt himself trapped between the baton invading his ass and Bob's sensuous lips clamped over his mouth. His body was on fire and he knew his orgasm was close.

But Randy glanced at Bob, both knowing Mark was near his limit ... and suddenly it stopped. The baton stopped moving, Bob pulled away and both men stood up. Mark groaned in frustrated desire, his climaxed denied him.

Bob and Randy stood up and gazed down at the homoerotic spectacle of the handsome blond cop with the features of a Nordic God and the sculpted physique of a Greek statue, a captive on hands and knees, handcuffed to the bed rail, spit drooling from his mouth, a long black billy-club sticking out of his ass.

"Randy," Bob said, "that is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. Let's take a break and just look at it, get off on it – maybe jack off, bust our loads all over it?"

"Sure thing, buddy." They picked up their beer bottles and sat on chairs facing the bed, stroking their cocks as they gazed in awe at the pornographic spectacle. Mark raised his bowed head and watched as the two handsome power-studs pounded their meat in front of him, muscles rippling, their naked bodies gleaming with a sheen of sweat.

The cop was being driven wild with frustration, desperate to touch the men, to touch his own cock and release his pent up load of sperm. He clenched his ass round the baton trying to simulate a fuck but it only intensified his aching desire. He heard Randy say, "So what d'you think, dude ... you ready?"

Bob grinned, "Shit, buddy, my cock's fit to explode. Let's do it. They got up and stood one on each side of the bed. Randy reached down and pushed the truncheon another inch inside Mark's ass. "I know how bad you want it, cop, but see that's my way of torturing a guy. I could whip that gorgeous body and you'd never submit, but this is gonna drive you crazy, officer. OK, Bob, you ready?" They stroked their cocks harder, their bodies tensed, and ...

"No, no ... please guys, don't cum."

"Oh no?" Randy said, feigning surprise. "Hey, Bob, sounds like the police officer here don't want our jizz all over him. So what do you want, cop? Let's hear it."

Mark groaned, "I want you guys to fuck me, man. I wanna feel your cock in my ass, in my mouth ... I need it so bad."

"Oh really? And here you were a while ago, conceited as hell, boasting about how you were gonna plough our asses one after the other. Not so tough now, are you, cop? So how are you at begging, stud? See, nothing turns me and my buddy on more than hearing a gorgeous, arrogant cop, chained up naked, billy-club sticking out of his ass begging to get butt-fucked. Think you can handle that, officer?"

"I gotta have it, man. OK, I'm begging. I give up ... you're the boss. Please, sir, fuck my ass, I need to feel your cock in my ass. I beg you, sir."

"Listen to that," Randy grinned, "music to my ears. OK, stud, you got it." He yanked the baton out of Mark's ass and the cop bucked and howled, "Aaagh!" Bob knelt before him again, gazed into his eyes and spoke more soothingly than Randy's savage tone – not unlike a bad-cop good-cop routine. "Mark, you know we both love you ... you're so fucking gorgeous. I'm so glad you're here ... a perfect climax to everything we've been through. Man, you turn me on."

Mark's eyes moistened. "Kiss me, man." Once again Bob closed his mouth over Mark's ... and once again Mark felt his ass being impaled on a rod, but this one much bigger and thicker than before. Randy was driving his massive cock inside him, not so gently this time knowing that a tough alpha male like Mark preferred it rough.

As before Mark screamed into the gag of Bob's mouth and, as before, Bob grabbed the back of his head and pressed their lips harder together. Bob could feel the power of Randy's cock banging Mark, forcing his mouth harder against Bob's mouth. Bob soon pulled back and Mark groaned, "I love you, man. Fuck my mouth, buddy. I wanna drink your cum."

Bob stood up, pulled Mark's head up by the hair and his square jaw sagged open. He clamped both hands on the side of the sculpted face and held it steady as he pushed his long cock into the open mouth, inch by inch until it came to rest halfway down his throat. And Mark didn't even gag. Secure in the knowledge that Bob would never hurt him, he breathed through his nose and clenched his throat muscles round the long shaft.

And so the three beautiful alpha males were reunited. They had once been known as the `tortured trio' owing to their internal rivalries, which turned out to be nothing but masks for the mutual admiration, love and raw lust they felt for each other but were at first reluctant to admit. Now here was living, carnal proof of the bond they shared as the naked blond cop submitted on his knees to getting spit roasted by his buddies in what seemed like an endless double fuck.

They all caught glimpses of themselves in the wall mirrors surrounding them – the swarthy muscular gypsy pounding the cop's ass, the handsome Superman fucking his face. Randy grinned at Bob across the kneeling cop and said, "It don't get much better than this eh, buddy? Come on, let's finish him off. You with me?"

Again they were the perfect team, matching the rhythm of their hips pistoning back and forth in the ass and mouth of the chained cop. The lovers could sense when Mark was reaching his climax and, through the language of the eyes, they timed their own orgasms. It was a point of pride in this trio of dominant men that they came simultaneously ... as they did now.

Randy's triumphant yell was the signal. "You ready, guys? OK, men, this is how real men bust their loads. Let's do it ... now!" Ecstatic howls from Randy and Bob shook the room as their cocks erupted – deep in the cop's ass and in his mouth, while Mark screamed into the gag of Bob's cock pouring cum down his throat. He greedily swallowed the nectar of the man he loved and sprayed the pent-up force of his own semen on the sheets beneath him.

When at long last they were drained they gazed in the mirror at the incredible sight of three rugged alpha males shuddering as they recovered from a spectacular spit-roasting fuck. Then, together, Randy and Bob quickly unlocked the cuffs and joined Mark on the bed, rolling together in a tangle of muscular limbs in a lusty celebration of man-on-man love.

Meanwhile, several miles away to the east, deeper into the desert, another visit was taking place, not a reunion this time but more of a farewell – to an old trailer. As Brandon's small red truck pulled into the trailer park Brian, sitting next to him, sighed deeply. "Dude, you think this'll be the last time I come into this place.

"Let's hope so," Brandon said cheerily, looking around at the forlorn trailers with peeling paint broiling under the desert sun. Then he caught himself and added, "Oh sorry, dude, this was your home for a long time. Maybe you're feeling a bit sad at leaving it – kinda nostalgic, lots of memories."

"Yeah, all bad ones. No fond memories of this place dude, unless you count sitting all alone jerking off watching hours of porn. And whenever I busted my load and yelled there was no one to hear but me." He grinned. "Kinda like that tree in the forest thing. When a boy cums and shouts and there's no one to hear, does he really make a sound."

"Of course you did, kiddo. You may have been solitary but you were still you ... a living breathing human being ... and porn addict." Brian looked at his friend sharply but when he saw the mischievous grin on his face he burst out laughing.

"That's better, dude. Cure yourself of the blues – like they say, laughter is the best medicine. Here we are, kid, home sweet home – or not so sweet as the case may be," Brandon chuckled. He pulled up at Brian's trailer and they each lowered their wheelchair on either side of the truck and dropped into it.

"I remember when you first came out here and surprised me, dude," Brian said. "You were with Darius and he scared me to death, that big muscular black stud towering over me."

"Yeah, but as you found out he's the kindest, sweetest guy you'll ever meet. Though I gotta say, when he's with his master, Zack, both of them in full leather it can be a pretty scary sight."

Brian was staring at the ramp to the front door that his Uncle Mike had installed. "The number of times I rolled up that ramp," he reminisced quietly, "closed the door behind me and threw something in the microwave ..."

"Hey, no dwelling on the past, kiddo. Everything's changed for you now. Besides, didn't you get over to Palm Springs, sometimes, and to your uncle's bar?"

"Not really. Not much transportation out here. Furthest I went was wheeling myself out to the convenience store at the trailer park entrance and back. Uncle Mike was always on to me to get out more and offered to pick me up but I couldn't stand the indignity of being lifted out of my chair and into his truck. It was you taught me to pull myself in your tuck, fold up my chair and stow it behind me."

Wanting to lift the gloomy mood Brandon said, "Hey, how about we go inside, pack up your stuff and get the hell out of here, uh?" Brian led the way up the ramp, unlocked the door and went in, followed by Brandon. "Shit, not much room in here for one guy, let alone two guys in wheelchairs. It'll be like dueling chairs ... we gotta get a system going here."

They coordinated well but packing took some time even though Brian had few clothes or personal belongings. It was the extensive video collection that took the time and Brian suggested leaving it behind. "Not on your life, dude," Brandon said. "We'll add it to mine and when Pete is out working you can come by and we'll have a marathon porn fest and jerk each other off. Failing that, this collection would fetch a fortune on EBay."

Brandon had brought boxes and it took numerous trips down the ramp to load them all in the truck, then they manhandled the small TV. Finally it seemed they were done as they looked round the inside of the trailer that seemed even more pathetic now it was near empty. "What about the bed?" Brandon asked.

"The bed stays, and so do the other bits of furniture. Believe it or not, dude, I rented this place furnished." Together they stared at the bed and Brandon said, "It must have seen some action sometimes, eh?"

Brian looked at him blankly. "No, dude, never – I never once had anyone back here. The only thing that saw any action was my wrist, and then I went to bed alone." He gave Brandon a strange look and said, "Dude, there's something I never told anyone, and you mustn't tell any of the guys, promise?"

Brandon crossed his heart with an encouraging smile. "Well," Brian blushed, "often when I pulled myself into bed I ... I cried myself to sleep. I guess I was wallowing in self-pity but it all seemed so hopeless, me a cripple, living out here in this hole. I was scared what would happen to me. The only person I had in the world was Mike and when he would be gone, I ..."

Suddenly, the burden of all the lonely years caved in on him. He had born it stoically because he had to, but now that the burden was lifting he allowed himself to give way. Silent tears started to pour from his eyes and down his cheeks. Brandon wheeled next him, leaned over and put his arms round him.

Brian rested his head on Brandon's shoulder and all the loneliness and desolation of his young life flowed out of him in wracking sobs – the emptiness and fears of a young man who saw his future as a desert as empty as the one he lived in.

Brandon, always so positive in outlook, had never seen such abject despair in a boy. His own eyes grew moist and his heart went out to his new friend as he gazed down at the tear-stained freckled face.

"That's it, kiddo, let it all out, let it go. `Cos you know what? It all ends here, right here. From here on out your life's gonna be full of fun – glamorous even. Hell, you're gonna be working for a hot and handsome movie star. And you've already been fucked by Tarzan for god's sake. Not many dudes can say that."

Brian pulled back and smiled through his tears. "No I guess not. When I'm in the Grady House I sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. Listen, Brandon, we talked about spending the last night here but ... well, I know there'll be a lot of guys in Uncle Mike's house tonight but do you think there might be room for us too?"

"Sure there will," Brandon said, "and if not we'll pitch a tent on Mike's lawn." Then, while Brian dried his tears Brandon fell silent, staring at the bed. "There's just one thing, though. I feel kinda sorry for this bed. Never seen any action eh? I think we should take pity on it and give it a fitting sendoff. It'll be like a christening and a fond farewell all in one."

"Brian frowned. "What do you mean, dude?"

"I'll show you. Get on the bed." Brian wheeled beside the bed and, as he had done every night for so many years, pulled himself out of his chair and onto the bed. He lay on his side and stared at Brandon who said, "You know dude, ever since we met here we've done a lot of stuff together except one thing ... sex."

"I know," Brian blushed, but I kinda thought it wasn't possible between two guys who ..."

"... two guys who can't walk? Listen kid, I never want to hear the words `it isn't possible' from you again. I've told you before, most everything is possible. Including this ..." He pulled himself onto the bed alongside Brian, looked him in the eyes ... and kissed him long and hard.

They had kissed briefly before but never like this, not with this sexual intensity, and their cocks quickly stiffened in their shorts. When they finally pulled back Brian said, "Brandon, I love you, dude. You've done so much for me – changed my life. I can never repay you."

"Good," Brandon grinned, "'cos I like having a cute guy like you in my debt. And all it takes to pay it off is this..." Nimbly he twisted round on the bed so they were lying side by side, head to toe, with Brandon's face level with Brian's crotch. He quickly ripped open Brian's shorts and pulled out his good-size, rigid cock. "Well what are you waiting for, kiddo? Didn't you ever learn to count up to 69?"

Brandon bent his head forward and let his friend's dick glide slowly onto his mouth. He heard the zipper of his own shorts being opened, felt his cock pulled out and the warmth of a mouth closing round it. They lay still for a moment, savoring the excitement of feeling their buddy's dick filling their mouth, their faces buried in the other's wiry pubic hair. Then each boy pulled back and paused, before easing back down on the stiff rod ... and the magic began.

Brandon pulled back for a brief second and said, "We're both Eddie-trained, dude, so remember your lessons." They both remembered them well, swallowing the other's rod deep without gagging, breathing through their noses and squeezing their throat muscles round the shaft swelling in their mouths. Each boy pursed his lips round the hard rod and pulled back, luring the juice up from the balls, then diving back down to the tangled pubes.

Soon they were sucking hard and fast, their heads bobbing back and forth rhythmically. They worked in perfect harmony, with Brandon taking the lead and Brian copying. At times they pulled off for a second, took a few deep breaths, and dived in again.

The physical, sensual desire was intense – but it was much more than that. From their first meeting the boys had quickly developed a firm friendship, drawn together by natural attraction and mutual interests, and not least by the challenges of their shared handicap. It was as if they had always been building to this moment when friendship crossed the line to sexual intimacy, two boys discovering that making love to a good buddy was in a whole different dimension from the fleeting release of jacking off to porn.

It wasn't long before their youthful vitality caused their pent-up load to strain for release. Tasting his friend's pre-cum Brandon suddenly pulled off Brian's cock and began to lick his balls, and Brian followed suit. They opened wide and sucked in first one ball then both, squeezing them, nurturing them in their warm, wet mouths. When they pulled off they licked the length of the other's shaft and teased the head with flicking tongues.

In the euphoric experience of love making with his master Pete, Brandon had developed the skill of holding back his climax to prolong the ecstasy. Not so Brian, who was still quite the novice at sex with another guy, and now he said, "Dude, I'm so close, but I don't wanna cum `til you do. I want us to shoot together."

"You got it, buddy. Let's do it." All it took was one last lunge onto the other's shuddering cock. They paused for one magical second ... and suddenly, at the same moment, each boy felt semen pouring deep inside him. Their choking reflex was overcome by swallowing hard, gulping down stream after stream of their buddy's warm juice ... draining him dry."

At last they pulled apart, Brandon twisted back up to face Brian and they gazed at each other in silent wonder.

But suddenly emotion overwhelmed Brian. These new, unfamiliar feelings scared him ... maybe they weren't real, would disappear and leave him as lonely as before. He panicked and turned abruptly away, lying with his back to Brandon and gazing out of the small window by the bed. The sight that met his eyes was the empty, featureless desert stretching endlessly to the horizon under the merciless sun, a mirror of his own arid life, with a future devoid of hope.

No ... No! That was his past – a past that, through the miracle of friendship, he was leaving behind once and for all. Abruptly he turned his back on the view and his past, and faced Brandon, in whose smiling eyes he saw his future, bright with promise and excitement.

Brandon had some idea of the transformative thoughts in his friend's mind and he said softly, "Let's get the hell out of here, buddy – lock the door and throw away the key."

And that's exactly what they did.

Meanwhile, Mike's house was the scene of boisterous activity – a house getting ready for a party.

Jamie was there now, along with the other senior boys, Pablo and the twins, Kyle and Kevin. The masters, Randy, Bob and Mark, had not yet returned, but Brian's Uncle Mike was there, sitting in a lawn chair with an amused look on his weather-beaten face, watching the handsome young men to whom he had willingly surrendered control of his house. The twins were working their magic in the kitchen, Pablo was firing up the barbecue and Jamie was setting up the tables by the pool, while Pablo's excited dog Billy got in everyone's way.

Suddenly the gate burst open and in rolled Brandon and Brian, with dazzling smiles on their faces that could mean only one thing – as everyone guessed right away. "Hey, Uncle Mike," Brian beamed. "We're back."

"Brian, my boy!" Mike shouted, jumped out of his chair and went to meet them. "Wow, you kids look brighter than the desert sun and that's saying something. Hey, all you guys, take a break for a while, bring a pack of beer and come sit with old Mike here."

A few minutes later they were all sitting around on the grass, swigging beer and looking up at the older man beaming in his lawn chair. "Guys, I always say that life is for living not talking so I'm only gonna say this once. My nephew Brian here has for years been living a solitary life way out in the desert, but I always knew he had something good and strong deep inside him, and it took Brandon and you guys to bring it out.

"I've always loved you, kiddo..." he raised his eyebrows at Brian, "even though you refused nearly all my pleas that you come and live here in the real world with me. But never mind that – water under the bridge. And now, guys, I'm gonna entrust my boy to you. All I ask is that you take good care of him and show him opportunities to reach his full potential. The rest is up to him." He gave a devilish grin. "Seems to me you just made a good start, kid, judging by those dry cum stains on your chin."

That unleashed a full-throated cheer from the senior boys and barking from Billy until Mike said above the din, "That's it guys, no more speeches. I now take a back seat to the younger generation."

After more cheers and applause Pablo, assuming his leadership role, said, "So, if Uncle Mike is passing the baton here, how about the senior boys give a big tribal welcome to our newest recruit." They responded with an enthusiastic group cheer of "Welcome, Brian!"

"OK," Pablo continued, "first thing we gotta do, kid, is get you into a truck." Brian gave a startled look. "Ah, no sweat, dude, I'll help you. Young Ben's old truck's never used since his big brother Randy gave him a brand new one for his birthday. And don't worry about the driving thing. See, I'm not only Randy's boy I'm the chief mechanic of his company, Ben's my assistant, and with Darius's help we can soon convert that truck to hand controls. Piece o' cake ... we already did it for Brandon."

Brandon nodded enthusiastically as Pablo continued, "Come to think of it, while we're out here I'll give you your first lessons on Brandon's truck. I've noticed an old deserted road out there in the desert that seems to lead nowhere. I'll take you out there tomorrow and we'll get started. We'll have you driving your own truck in a couple weeks. And who knows, in time we'll get you a motorcycle like Brandon's and you can go on bike runs together. How's all that sound?"

"Sounds incredible," Brian blushed. "Thank you, sir."

"Ah you can drop the `sir', dude. Get used to it, kiddo, you're one of the boys now."

Suddenly Kyle spoke up. "Er, Kevin and me better get back to the kitchen, Mike, or the food will spoil. Can't have that – chef's professional pride."

"And I still got to finish up out here," Jamie said. "Brian, do you and Brandon wanna give me a hand? Shitload of stuff still to do."

Eagerly Brian followed the hot surfer jock back to the pool but Mike held Brandon back a few seconds. "Brandon, there's no way I can thank you for what you've done for my nephew. I'm not exaggerating when I say that you saved his life, and I can see that he's crazy about you. Do me a favor and call me from time to time to let me know how he's getting on, can you do that?"

"I'll give you regular updates, Uncle Mike, and as soon as he's in his truck and has his license I'll have him drive me out here to visit you. Don't worry, he's gonna have a blast with us guys."

As he took off after Brian, Mike smiled to himself. Seems like all the boys were calling him Uncle Mike ... and he kinda liked the sound of it.

That left Mike alone with Pablo who had finished his prep on the barbecue and pulled up a chair facing him. "Pablo," Mike said, "I wanna thank you for what you said to Brian – the truck and all. It's just what he needs to hear on his road to independence. You know, listening to you I realized how much like Randy you are. You seem to have picked up a lot of his habits."

"Oh, that's deliberate, Uncle Mike. I model myself on Randy. He's my hero and I try to be exactly like him – you know, the way he speaks, walks, the way he treats guys, his authority ..."

"... his anger?"

Pablo grinned, "Well that too, I guess. See Randy adopted me, I'm the boss's boy, so I wanna be just like him. I copy him in everything."

"And who does Randy copy?"

"What?" Pablo squinted in surprise. "Well, he don't copy no-one, no sir! Randy's his own man, don't take shit from no-one. Makes his own decisions, does what he wants."

"And do you copy him in that too?"

Pablo frowned, "I don't ... I don't get what you mean, Uncle Mike"

"You say Randy's his own man. Are you, though? It's sorta tough to be your own man if you're copying someone else all the time."

"Well, I ... I mean, I don't always ... well, I guess I do, but... I never thought of it like that, I..." He stopped in confusion and seemed to deflate.

"Pablo, I'm not giving you a hard time here, and god forbid I should ever give advice ..." he grinned ... "but here's a word of advice. Sometimes it's not a good thing to always copy someone else – you can lose sight of your own identity. By living in some other guy's shadow you could end up not casting one of your own.

"Don't get me wrong. Randy is a terrific guy, the hottest, most dominant, most gorgeous, sexiest man I've ever met. And it's great that you look up to him as your hero. Any boy would – especially his adopted son. But every man has his flaws – and Randy has more than most. Just look at how his anger and jealousy made him brutalize Bob that time – a man he worships more than his own life. Hell, he almost lost him. And I've seen that rage of his flare more than once. Some traits in a man you don't wanna copy, boy."

Mike shrugged. "Look kid, all I'm saying in my clumsy way is this. You call yourself the boss's boy, head boy, chief mechanic, whatever. But most of all you're Pablo, a really great young guy, a natural leader. You're a kind and generous boy who can bring joy to other kids – I heard what you said to Brian and what you're gonna do for him and I love you for that. That's what you are, boy – you're Pablo.

"Sure, you can be tough, manly, generous, protective of the boys, all the good things Randy is, but you can do it as yourself, Pablo, not as a clone of someone else no matter how much you worship the guy. I mean look, Randy idolizes Bob, but he hasn't cloned himself as Bob has he?"

Pablo laughed, "Hell no, not even close. They're two totally different guys but they ... kinda, fit together ..."

"... they complement each other, exactly. You see what I'm saying, boy?"

Pablo was lost in silent thought for a moment, before saying, "Uncle Mike, nobody's ever said stuff like that to me, not even Bob, I guess `cos he's too close to Randy. Thank you, sir, I appreciate that. Er ... would it be OK if I call you sometimes when I'm, kinda, confused – can't see my way forward."

"Son, I would be honored. `Course, Randy is your master, your dad and your hero, and you're his boy, so you pay attention to him first. But if ever you want to chat to an older guy who's been around the block a few times – many times actually – you pick up the phone and call me. And of course whenever you come out this way again you'll be an honored guest – you and your big stud gypsy."

Mike looked up and grinned, "And talk of the devil," as they heard the crunch of tires on gravel and the slamming of car doors behind the gate. The other boys heard it too and everyone gathered in eager anticipation. And when the gate opened it was an astonishing sight – three glorious musclehunks stripped to the waist – a swarthy gypsy in black pants, a chiseled Superman in blue jeans, and a blond Nordic God in the black uniform pants of a police officer.

Standing between the other two Randy threw his arms over the shoulders of Bob and Mark and flashed a gleaming smile. "Guys, we've been working up a helluva thirst out there. So who the hell do you have to fuck to get a drink around here?"

Every hand shot up – "Me, sir ... me, sir."

"OK," Randy grinned, "one at a time ... or what d'ya say guys, two, three at a time?"

"As many as you like, buddy," Mark said ... "but only after we drink."

A cheer went up and Randy yelled, "OK, guys, party time. Let the games begin!"

Uncle Mike smiled and shook his wise old head. "Shit damn, you guys are something else."

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 321"

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

ALSO, I invite you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including pictures and biographies of all the characters 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