A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH -- PART 36 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER Bob had stepped out of line. Time for Randy to remind the muscle-stud who's boss. "Nothing too extreme. Just something dramatic enough to put him back in his place." Darius is the weapon of choice. Later, Mark takes one of the new guys on a trip. The kid boasts he's a macho stud around women. But he's never met a man as beautiful as Mark ...

As I always say, guys, I welcome your comments and suggestions. E-mail me at rw6789@aol.com. Now read on ...

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH -- Part 36

Randy was restless. As Bob slept soundly beside him he stared at the ceiling, his mind a whirl of decisions to be made, problems to solve. Trying to relax he turned to look at his lover. "Jesus, he's gorgeous," Randy thought. As well as he knew him he was always taken by surprise by his beauty, those Superman features, the perfectly built, muscular body honed by bone-crunching workouts at the gym downstairs in the basement.

Randy himself was a magnificent man, with his dark, demon-like, rugged face and incredible body, and he had come not only to worship Bob physically, but also to depend on his opinions and common sense. Randy was the macho construction worker, Bob the handsome but level-headed business executive.

And he would need Bob's level head in the days to come. Darius had told Randy that the construction on the new house on the property was finished. Randy would inspect it tomorrow and talk to Darius and Pablo.

"Then what do I do with the skinheads?" he wondered. He still thought of them as that, from the time he and Pablo had thrashed them for beating up a `faggot' as they called him. Later the skinheads had attacked Pablo in revenge in the garage. But, at Bob's urging, Mark, the cop, had agreed to release them into Randy's custody and they had been working on the construction ever since, under the close supervision of Darius and Pablo.

Randy particularly wanted Darius's take on how the young guys had performed. Randy was starting his own construction company and would soon begin the hiring process. He intended to make Darius the second shift foreman and was curious to see how effective the young black guy had been overseeing his workers.

God it was tough being boss of all this. He looked again at Bob and studied the quiet smile on his sleeping face. It was the smile of satisfaction, of self-confidence, but there was something else, too. What was it? A trace of smugness, maybe? Suddenly Randy resented the complacent self-satisfaction that he saw there. Bob had been asserting himself lately, giving his frank opinions about how Randy treated the younger guys and how he should control his anger.

"It started that night," Randy thought. His mind went back a week or so to the extraordinary session in the basement gym, when Bob had turned the tables and forced Randy to become his slave for the night. Randy grinned as he remembered how Bob had turned him on and made him grovel. "Shit," he thought, "the man's so gorgeous he could make me do anything. All he has to do is stand there and I go weak at the knees."

But enough was enough. Randy had always been the master and had sometimes used extreme methods to impress this on his lover. No doubt about it, recently Bob had become too assertive.

"Time to remind him who's boss," Randy mused. "No matter how fucking beautiful he is he belongs to me, body and soul, and I can do anything I like with him. Yeah, I'll think of something. Nothing too extreme, mind you, nothing too painful. Just something dramatic enough to put the fucker back in his place. "

"Let's see, now. Darius needs a little fun. Yeah, that's the answer, him and that huge piece of meat of his. As he finally drifted off to sleep these thoughts morphed into dreams that brought a smile to his sleeping face.

"OK, everybody out!" Randy had come to the new house early next morning expecting to catch the four young men unawares, but they were up already and Darius was supervising the finishing touches to the work. He and Pablo and the two young guys stood before Randy, as if for inspection. As always, the two workers were naked, wearing only leather collars round their necks.

"So, you say it's finished?"

"We think so, sir," Darius said.

"You two," Randy said to the young workers. "What are your names again?"

"Miller, sir." "Brigg, sir."

Randy had not paid much attention to them since they had arrived and now he saw what a change had come over them. The manual work had filled out their bodies, put muscle on them, and working naked in the sun had replaced their former pallor with a golden tan. Their hair had grown too, and Miller especially looked really fine with his blond, tousled hair falling over his brow. Miller exuded masculinity and had become quite the looker, Randy thought.

Randy stepped forward and ceremoniously removed the collars from the guys' necks. "Pablo, give them back their clothes. Then stay here and supervise the touch-up work with them. Darius, inside with me."

Minutes later Darius stood in front of the table where Randy, Bob and Mark were seated. Randy, of course, took charge.

"Right. Bob and Mark are here with me because we were all involved in taking on these two guys. I made you their supervisor deliberately so I could see how you perform as foreman. Give us your report on them."

"Yes, sir." Darius stood up straight and became rather formal. And he gave a surprisingly comprehensive and detailed report of how the two guys had worked. "They were surly at first, sir, but they soon realized we meant business. Miller especially worked real hard. He's real tough and has grown into quite a stud."

Randy frowned and Darius cleared his throat. "Sorry, sir. Wrong word, but you know what I mean. I talked to them a lot over the weeks and got to know them. They've never been in trouble before, so they say."

"That's true," said Mark. "I ran a make on them when they first came here and they're clean. No prior record, never arrested."

Bob asked, "Do you mean you became friends with them, Darius?"

"Oh no, sir. I didn't think that would be right. They had to respect my position. But I did get to know what they want."

"And ... ?"

"Well, sir. Seems the two of them are not really friends ... just hung our together. Anyway, Brigg wants to go back to his family in St. Louis. I really think he's sorry about the lifestyle he fell into. Also, he has a girlfriend back there."

"And Miller?"

Darius frowned. "He's a bit harder to read. He comes across as the macho stud, but he doesn't seem to have much of a life. He's not sure what to do next."

"Should I hire him?"

Darius blinked at Randy's question. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Should I take him on? Listen, punk, I'm gonna be hiring soon for the new company. I want you and my buddy Jack to be in on the interviews. I'm asking you if you think we should hire Miller?"

Darius hesitated. Then he was definite. "Yes, sir. I do, sir."

Bob smiled. "And not just because he's become `quite a stud'?"

"Oh no, sir. Nothing like that."

"I believe you," Randy said. "Good report, Darius. Well done. Now, I want to pay them something for the work they've done. Not construction worker rates, just enough to give them a leg up, get Brigg back to St. Louis and give Miller money of his own."

Bob spoke. "The best formula would be to give them the minimum hourly rate, if only we had an idea how many hours they had worked."

"Oh, I can tell you that, sir." Darius said. "I kept a log of their hours, made them sign off on it every day. I can tell you exactly how much they did."

Surprised, Mark smiled. "Very impressive, Darius. What d'ya think, Randy?"

"He'll do," Randy conceded.

"Oh, come on, Randy," Bob protested. "Darius has done a great job. He deserves more credit than that. Give the kid a break. You're too hard. You should give him a reward." But his voice tailed off as Randy shot him a look. Bob knew that savage expression well and realized he had gone too far, been too assertive. He had muscled in on Randy's territory, tried to tell him how to act. He instinctively knew he would pay for that.

Randy locked eyes with him for several seconds. Then, in a strange voice, he said to Darius, "Bob's right, Darius. You've done well. You'll make a great foreman. And you will get a reward. I have something special in mind. Make sure Pablo and the two guys are busy, then report to the basement room in twenty minutes."

"Yes, sir." Darius left.

"I've gotta go too," Mark said. "I'm on duty in half an hour."

Randy looked at Bob. "You. Come with me."

Down in the basement Randy stood glaring at Bob.

"I'm sorry, sir," Bob said.

"You were way out of line, asshole," Randy growled. "And it's not just today. It started that night down here a week ago and ever since then you've been telling me what to do. You've forgotten who you are, who you belong to." There was a heavy silence. "Strip down to your shorts."

Bob obeyed instantly, threw off his clothes and stood before his master, naked except for his white boxers.

"Grip the chin bar above you." Bob reached up, spread his arms and held on to the bar over his head. There was another silence as the two men looked each other in the eyes. Just then there was a tentative knock at the door and Darius came in. His eyes opened wide when he saw Bob there almost naked.

"Oh, excuse me sir. I didn't realize ..."

"Come for your reward, have you?"

Darius stammered. "Well, sir. You did say ... "

"Yes, I did, punk. And here it is."

"Excuse me?"

Bob listened in humiliation, his muscular arms stretched upward to the chin bar, as the questions continued.

"Darius, what is the most precious thing in the world to me?

The young black man squirmed uncomfortably.

"Come on, punk!"

"Well, sir. I guess I'd have to say your friend, sir. Bob, sir."

"And what part of my `friend'?"

"What part?" Darius gulped. "Well, sir. I ... I guess you'd have to say ... his ass, sir?" he mumbled timidly.

"Speak up, boy."

Darius coughed. "I said, sir, that the most precious thing for you is Bob's ass, sir."

"Bingo! And you know what? As this man seems to think you did such a great job today, his ass is yours. That's your reward."

"His ass? ... You mean you want me to ... to fuck your lover's ass, sir."

"You don't want to?"

"Well of course, I do, sir. Anyone would, sir. He's a magnificent man, sir. And his ass, sir ... well ..."

How long is your cock, punk?"

"Eight inches soft, sir. Ten inches erect."

"And how is it now?"

Darius looked down at the bulge in his pants. "Erect, sir."

"Then show us all ten glorious inches, Darius."

Darius unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his raging black cock. It was truly enormous, ten inches of thick, hard, black meat that would be a challenge for any ass. Bob flinched at the sight.

"Come round here."

Darius followed Randy behind Bob. "Feel this," Randy ordered and ran his hands over the thin cotton covering the hard round globes of his lover's ass. Darius did as commanded and cupped the glorious mounds of the ass in his hands. He gasped as his cock shuddered in anticipation. Bob winced at the humiliation.

"You wanna see it?"

Darius gulped. "Yes, sir. Please, sir."

"Here it is, then." Randy ripped the back of the shorts and pulled the thin cotton apart, revealing the perfect ass underneath. He walked back round to face Bob and never took his eyes off him from that moment. That indescribable, intensely intimate look passed between them that even they did not truly understand. They just knew that they had entered their private world where master and slave became one.

Their eyes spoke to each other. Randy was reasserting his total ownership of this beautiful muscle-god, insulting him, degrading him, and by doing so delivering him to a state of ecstasy where only Randy could lead him. Bob's look was a mix of humiliation, hurt, gratitude and worship of a man he wanted to serve forever. A trace of a smile crossed Randy's face.

"Pull yourself up," Randy ordered. Bob took a breath and pulled up to the chin bar.

"Now hold it." Bob's V-shaped back flared, his shoulder muscles and arms flexed and strained as he held the painful position. His ripped shorts hung around his waist. Randy gazed at him enraptured. A week ago Randy had been the slave, worshipping this magnificent man. Now, he looked in awe again at the sculpted, perfect body, the handsome face, but this time Randy was his unchallenged master.

His veins standing out all over his body Bob held himself up to the bar interminably but his muscles finally weakened and he had to begin lowering himself, raising his knees a bit for relief. He was hallway down when his eyes widened in horror. He felt a pressure against his ass and realized he was sinking onto Darius's rigid cock. He tried to stop but his muscles were giving way and his body slowly descended, his ass impaled on the huge pole sliding painfully into his hole.

Bob's moans became a scream as the thick shaft slid inside him, deeper and deeper, brushing past tender, sensitive spots that sent sparks through his whole body. He felt the head bruise his innermost gut and, with a supreme effort, he pulled up again off the cock, to ease the pain. But inevitably his muscles gave way and he was forced to lower himself again onto the massive pole.

Randy watched spellbound as the glorious body pulled up and down. Incredibly Bob was fucking himself on the rigid cock behind him. Darius trembled as the big bodybuilder rose and fell over his dick, sending spasms throughout his body. Finally, exhausted, Bob sank down for the last time and remained still, his perfect body impaled on the monstrous shaft. Darius gasped. His dick had plunged all the way into the warm velvet ass and finally come to rest against some unexplored point deep inside the man's body.

Randy smiled into Bob's eyes. He knew that his lover was feeling that exquisite mix of pain and pleasure, his ass filled with the pulsing cock pressing against the recesses of his gut.

"Remember now who owns you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And I can do anything to your ass?"

"Yes, sir"

"Even have a slaveboy push his huge black meat up it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck him, Darius. Fuck him hard. Fuck him deep."

Darius began to move his hips backward and forward, pulling his long dick almost completely clear of the hole and then plunging it back in, deeper each time. He cupped his hands over Bob's solid round pecs, then moved them out and down the wide V of his lats, then stroked the hard eight-pack of his ripped abs. The body was magnificent, and he was fucking it! He knew he was not only bringing pain and pleasure to the big bodybuilder, he was also the instrument of his humiliation before the ultimate master.

Darius pulled at his victim's waist and pumped it back onto his raging cock. Randy saw this and placed his own hands over Darius's, helping to push the tortured ass onto the black shaft.

The fucking continued for a long time. Several times Darius's cock pulled clear out of the hole, then plunged back through sphincter and into the furnace. Both Bob and Darius were shuddering with the wild sensation radiating through them and they desperately wanted to shoot their loads. Randy enjoyed making them suffer and wait. Bob's eyes pleaded with him for release, but Randy merely smiled back.

"You want me to let you shoot, don't you asshole?"

"Yes, sir. Please sir. I beg you sir. My ass is on fire. I can't take much more."

"Why is this happening to you."

"You're punishing me for being arrogant, sir. You're making the beautiful black man push his huge cock in my ass. You're humiliating me in front of him, sir."

"You know your place now, asshole?"

"Yes, sir."

Randy smiled again. "Darius. You ready, punk?"

`Yes, sir!" Darius shouted.

"OK, let it go."

The heaving black body shuddered and Darius screamed as his orgasm erupted. He shot streams of hot liquid deep inside the bodybuilder's ass. At the same moment Randy dropped to his knees. He took hold of Bob's rigid cock and held it in front of his face. He opened his mouth just as the cock exploded. Hot, sweet creamy liquid spurted into Randy's mouth and he gulped it down. Jets of liquid poured from the cock and Randy drank every drop of his lover's juice.

Finally he stood up as Darius slowly pulled his cock from Bob's ass. "How's that for a reward, punk?" Randy asked.

Darius caught his breath. "Incredible, sir. Unbelievable."

"OK, leave us now. Go back to Pablo. Tell him your story."

"Yes, sir," Darius said, buttoning his fly. "Thank you, sir." As he walked in front of Bob he stammered, "And thank you, sir."

After he left, Randy said. "You. Come to bed."

In their room Randy stripped naked and fell into bed. Bob stood by the bed and Randy looked up at him. "Is your ass good and sore?"

"Yes, sir. Very."

"Good, that's the way I like it. Because now your master's gonna fuck it ... hard."

And Randy inflicted on his lover one of his most savage fucks, the kind with a little more pain than pleasure. Bob's body bucked and heaved until finally his dick exploded again as he felt his master shoot inside him. When their heaving breaths calmed down Randy said, "Come here asshole. Your punishment's over." He wrapped his arms around the exhausted man. "I love you, man. You know that don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir." And as he fell asleep in his master's arms Bob again had a satisfied smile on his face.

A few days later things had settled down. Darius was helping Randy with the job interviews and it would be a week before construction work began. Brigg had gone back to St. Louis and Miller was living alone in the basement of the new house. Randy had hired him but until work began he was at a loose end. He was in the garage watching Mark examining one of the Harleys.

"That's a fine machine, man," he said tentatively. "A real beauty."

Mark smiled. "Sure is. Pablo's been giving it a major tune up. He recommends that I take it for a long run to see how it performs now. You like bikes?"

"They used to be my passion back home before I ... well, you know ... fucked up my life. I'd love to feel one under me again."

Mark looked at him. There was something about the young guy that moved the cop. The kid had apparently had a rough life and taken the wrong path. But he had changed, mellowed out. He certainly looked better than before ... a real looker, as Darius had said, with his lean, newly buff, tan body and handsome, fresh, blond looks. And he seemed to be eager to prove himself. After a pause Mark suddenly spoke on impulse.

"I've got a couple days off and I planned on taking a run up the coast. Wanna come?"

Miller gaped. "You mean it? Me, on the back of that? Wow. Are you sure, man? I mean I don't wanna crowd you or nuthin', but gee, I'd love that."

"Then it's a deal. You've worked hard. Do you good to take a few days' break until Randy needs you to start work. I'll clear it with him and if he gives the OK we'll leave right away."

An hour later, with Randy's approval, they were all set. Los Angeles was once more blanketed by scorching heat so the two men were lightly dressed. Mark was in his usual jeans and boots, with one of his old black cop shirts (minus the badges) over a stretched white tank top. Miller was in jeans and sneakers, a faded, sleeveless denim shirt over a gray T-shirt.

"Climb aboard," Mark grinned. They strapped on their helmets, straddled the bike, and with a roar the Harley took off, with Miller's arms tightly wrapped around the cop's hard body. Soon they were clear of the city and speeding north on Pacific Coast Highway. The sun beat down, but the wind felt great as it cooled their faces. All their senses were alive as they felt the rush of speed, with the sparkling Pacific on the left and the Santa Monica Mountains rising on the right.

An hour later they passed through Santa Barbara and then stopped at a hamburger stand off the highway. They talked as they ate and Mark had a chance to get the measure of the young man.

"Hey," Mark grinned. "I can't keep calling you Miller. What's your first name?"

"Jamie."

"Jamie it is. Great ride. How're you feeling?

"Terrific, man. Hell, that machine between your legs sure makes me horny. Think we can score some ass later? I haven't had a girl in weeks. I could do with some nice, wet pussy."

Mark winced slightly at the macho crudeness of his speech, but then smiled. "Sure we can. I'm guessing you have no trouble with the ladies."

Jamie preened. "Never have so far. They go crazy when I screw them. And look at you, man. With a face and a body like that you must have them crawling at your feet. You must be a god to them. You're a fucking babe magnet."

"I've had my moments," Mark said, thinking back to all the girls he had bedded in the past. "You ready to ride again?"

They were approaching the small town of Guadalupe, a collections of modest tract homes between the highway and the sea. Mark pulled off the road.

"Ever see the Guadalupe dunes, Jamie?"

"No, man. That how we get to the ocean? I'm sweating like a pig."

"Follow me."

Mark parked the bike securely and took off jogging over the extensive sand dunes that are a natural feature of the area. It was a slog over the deep, dry sand and both men were soaked with sweat, chests heaving when they finally came to the ocean and threw themselves down in the sand.

"Jeez it's hot," Jamie said. "Can we go for a swim?"

"Sure thing," Mark said and stood up. He stripped off his shirt, kicked off his boots and towered over Jamie in just his jeans and tight tank. He reached down and pulled the young man up by the wrist.

"Come on, kid. I'll race you."

Jamie gazed in awe as the cop pulled off his tank top and jeans; his magnificent body was naked except for his boxers. The younger man followed suit and they both charged toward the sea. They raced into the water and spent the next half hour horsing around in the waves. Naturally competitive, they wrestled for supremacy, gasping and laughing.

At one point Mark put his massive arms around Jamie, lifted and threw him bodily into the waves. As Jamie looked up at the laughing, near naked cop, flexed muscles streaming with water he was embarrassed to feel his cock getting hard. "Fuck that," he said to himself and ran out of the water.

Lying on his back in the dunes Jamie raised himself on his elbows and watched as Mark came out of the ocean. He took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the bronzed bodybuilder striding ashore, his gleaming muscles streaming with water. His chiseled features were set in a dazzling smile, his body was pumped from all the exertion, and his wet shorts clung to his waist, the big cock clearly visible underneath.

Jamie looked up at him as he approached. "Jesus, you are one hell of a man, you know that? I don't think I've ever seen such a stud as you. You sure won't have any trouble with the ladies."

"Somehow I don't think you'll need any help in that department yourself, young man."

They spent a long time lounging in the dunes, cooling off periodically in the water, then decided it was time to eat. They toweled off, dressed and slogged back through the dunes.

A short time later they had found a small, out-of-the-way bar and motel set back off the dunes. They sat at an outdoor table and ordered a meal of Mexican food. It was brought by a voluptuous, big-breasted young waitress, whose name tag identified her as Barbra.

Jamie grinned and sailed right in. "Hey, Babs ... what else is on the menu ... what's cooking?

"You, obviously," she smiled. "And listen, handsome, it's not `Babs', it's Barbra ... as in Streisand. And as for what else is on the menu, well ..." She stood back and sized him up. "Well, time will tell."

"What time you get off."

"Couple of hours. And I have a room in the motel. You guys staying here?"

Mark looked at the lustful eyes of his companion and smiled. "I guess we are now."

The waitress grinned. "I'm in Room 24. If either of you guys cares to drop by ... or both of you, come to that ... I'll be there." And she sashayed back to the kitchen.

Jamies eyes were gleaming. "Did you get a load of those tits? Wouldn't mind burying my face in them for a while." He frowned. "What did she mean, both of you?' Jeez I could never do that. Not with another guy there. Too weird. Guess we'll have to toss for her," and he pulled out a coin."

"Nah," Mark grinned. "I'm pretty bushed. And you're the one who hasn't got his rocks off for weeks and can't stop talking about tits and ass. So you take her. She's all yours, buddy."

They ate, drank a lot and talked. Jamie went on mostly about girls. Seemed to be an obsession of his, Mark thought. Finally they went and got a room. There was only one available in the motel. "Sorry, no doubles," the clerk said. "Just a queen size."

"Makes no difference," Jamie grinned. "I plan on spending most of the night in 24 anyway."

In their room Jamie preened and cleaned himself up. He slicked back his hair as he appraised himself in the mirror. "What d'ya think, man?"

"You can't miss, kid. I'd lose the T-shirt, though. Just the shirt ... open three buttons."

"Thanks, pal. You sure seem to know a lot about this. Not surprised, the way you look. Bet you don't have to do a thing ... just stand there and wait for them to fall at your feet."

"Get out of here," Mark grinned.

As Jamie took a last look in the mirror he glimpsed the reflection of Mark behind him preparing for bed. He pulled off his shirt and tank top, kicked off his boots and shook off his jeans. Stripped to his shorts he reached up and stretched, flexing his arms and yawning. Jamie realized again just how stunning the man was. And again he felt his cock growing in his jeans. "Hell," he thought. "I'm hornier than I thought. Must be the thought of Barbra turning me on."

He left the room and Mark lay on the bed. In the continuing heat he lay on top of the sheets and was soon asleep.

He didn't know how much later he heard the key in the door and Jamie came in, looking disheveled. Groggy with sleep Mark said, "You didn't stay the night, then. How was Barbra?"

Jamie didn't reply. He threw himself into the only chair in the room. Mark opened one eye and realized Jamie was pouting. He pulled himself up on his elbows. "You OK, kid? What's up?"

"Not me, that's for damn sure."

"Meaning?"

"Just between you and me?

"Sure."

Jamie growled. "I couldn't fucking well get it up. Me, big stud Jamie! I was so fucking horny and there she was butt naked, and I couldn't get a fucking erection! Shit!" and he slammed his fist on the chair."

"Hey, kid. Don't beat yourself up. Happens to everyone sometimes. Must've been all that beer you drank earlier."

"Yeah. Yeah that's it. Too fucking drunk to perform. It's never happened to me before. My cock's always rock hard. Hell, I've had a hard-on ever since leaving L.A."

Mark laughed. "That's the bike throbbing between your legs. Come on, chalk it up to experience, kid. Go cleaned up and get into bed. We've got an early start tomorrow. Riding further north."

Mark fell back on the pillow and was soon asleep again on his back.

Jamie stomped off to the bathroom, took a quick shower and as was drying himself he glanced through the partly open bathroom door. He gazed at Mark, lying on the bed naked except for his shorts. "Jeez," Jamie thought once again. "The man is fucking gorgeous." Still drying himself he couldn't take his eyes of the sleeping cop.

A bright moon shone through the louvered blinds casting a striped shadow over the muscular bodybuilder, his tanned skin shiny with a film of sweat. He tossed in his sleep, apparently dreaming. His right hand rested on his hard pecs. Then, in his sleep, it slid slowly downward, over his perfect eight-pack abs and finally rested on the waistband of his shorts.

Jamie's eyes widened as he saw that Mark's cock was erect under his boxers. Must be having an erotic dream. The hand went lower and rested on the bulge in the shorts. In his sleep he lightly stroked the bulge and moaned softly. Then he lay silent in deep sleep, his hand resting on his still-hard cock.

Jamie, still naked from the shower, was mesmerized as he watched this. He stood still, gazing at the god-like sleeping man. Branches waved lightly outside the window and cast a moving shadow over the naked body. Fixated on the image Jamie was unaware of what he did next. Instinctively his hand slid down to his own cock that was raging hard. He began stroking it.

Hypnotized by the sight, rooted to the spot, he whispered, "Jesus, that's incredible. He's so fucking gorgeous. Look at that body, that face."

He was in a daze, focused intensely on the sleeping man. His hand continued to stroke his hard cock and he began to feel something he had never felt before ... a warmth in his legs, a tingling almost, that made him tremble. The heat rose up higher, through his ass, past his stomach, over his chest and neck and into his face so it made his head spin.

Jamie's whole body was now on fire, a fire that became concentrated in his groin. His cock was trembling, burning, pulsing with the heat that consumed him. With his eyes fixed on the sleeping muscle god his young virile body started to spasm, his hand worked his cock feverishly and then suddenly ...

He threw his head back, stifling a scream, as his cock erupted, spurting long streams of hot, creamy liquid in the most incredible orgasm he had ever felt. He didn't know where he was. He knew only that this magnificent man lying on the bed had caused him to shoot the biggest, hottest load of his life. His whole body was ripped with violent spasms as his sperm flooded the bathroom floor.

For a long while he stood in a daze, his body heaving. Finally he came to his senses and reality hit him in the face. He was overcome with disgust and shame at what had happened. He looked down at the cum-soaked floor, grabbed a towel, fell to his knees and scrubbed the floor as if to expunge the memory of what had happened. His thoughts were racing as he wiped frantically with the towel.

"Oh, shit. Holy shit. I gotta clean this up," and he scrubbed harder. "I gotta get out of here. We gotta go home. This never happened. I was drunk. Oh Jesus. First thing tomorrow I'll tell him we gotta go home."

When he had finished he tossed the towel out the bathroom window ... got rid of the evidence. He crept back into the room and lay tentatively on the bed, as far to the side as he could, his back to Mark. He was relieved to see that Mark was still fast asleep. Hadn't seen a thing, thank god.

But Jamie couldn't sleep. Finally he turned over and gazed at the sleeping god beside him. The sight of his face, incredibly, made his cock stir again. "This isn't happening" he thought angrily. "I'm drunker than I thought. Gotta go home. I'll tell him in the morning ... first thing." And he finally fell into a restless sleep.

In the morning Jamie woke and saw Mark stir. He would tell him now that they had to go back. Wouldn't say why. They just had to head home.

The handsome face turned and smiled at him. "Hi, there, kid. Sleep well? No bad dreams?"

"I, er ..." Jamie stammered.

"Get ready, kid. We got a long day ahead of us. We're gonna ride further north. You with me?"

Jamie looked into the stunning blue eyes smiling at him and he could not believe what he heard himself say. "Sure thing, sir. Can't wait. I'll be holding onto you all the way. You're the boss, sir."

Mark smiled to himself. Trained as a cop to observe, he caught a slight change in Jamie's tone. And for the first time the young guy had addressed him as `sir.'

"Odd," Mark thought to himself. Then, "Nah, probably nothing to it."

And in a few minutes they were both astride the Harley, speeding north.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength -- Part 37"