A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 369 By Rob Williams
CHAPTER 369 – "THE COP ARRESTS THE BUSINESSMAN - AGAIN"
IN THIS CHAPTER:
Feeling abandoned by his lover Randy Bob turns to the blond motorcycle cop Mark. They re-live the first time the cop arrested the businessman, and play out a fantasy of what might have happened. The cop says to the naked Superman, "I was a damn fool. I should have arrested you that day in the park, made you strip naked, cuffed you to a tree and fucked your gorgeous ass ... like I'm gonna do now." _____________________________________________________________________
************ In the previous chapter *************
The new rugged top-man in the tribe nearly didn't make it at all. Miguel had met one of the bosses, Zack, and his boy Darius at the 5-star hotel down the coast where Miguel worked as the executive sous-chef. They had met for a brief one-night stand years previously and, as soon as they saw each other this time, sexual sparks flashed between the black musclehunk Zack and the swarthy handsome Hispanic Miguel.
It soon became clear they were men meant for each other and Zack brought Manuel up to the tribe's compound in Los Angeles. But introducing him to the members of the tribe turned out to be no easy matter. Most of the guys were warm and welcoming – all except for the tribe's founder and leader, the charismatic gypsy Randy, quick to anger and quick with his fists.
Randy instantly recognized Miguel as an alpha male as dominant as himself, a rival and a threat, not only to his leadership but to his relationship with his gorgeous lover, Bob. Randy was the kind of man who hit first and thought later. His war of words with Miguel quickly escalated to a fight – which to everyone's surprise, Miguel had won.
Although Miguel was not at fault (acting in self-defense) he regretted that his arrival had caused such divisions in the tribe and he prepared to leave – leave the tribe and Zack. But Zack had other ideas. Ever the tough leather master Zack had tied Miguel to a tree and whipped and fucked him into submission. In truth Miguel would never have submitted to mere physical force. It was the sight of Zack in full leather that opened up long-buried instincts of his own and he realized that they were made for each other.
It had been an initiation of sorts – but another, even harsher one lay in store. Miguel was a man used to solving his own conflicts so he took off after Randy who, after his impulsive fight and humiliating defeat, had gone up to the remote lake in the mountains for time alone to think.
Miguel's sudden arrival there predictably roused Randy's anger. "What the hell are you doing here, asshole? Come to gloat I suppose about how you thrashed me in front of my boy, my man and my buddies. Or did you come here to get the same beating you gave me?"
"None of those, Randy," Miguel said evenly. "I came to apologize."
"Yeah right, like I'm gonna believe that!" Randy laughed scornfully and stepped menacingly toward Miguel. "Get the fuck out of here or I'll fucking kill you."
But Miguel did give a heartfelt apology for, as he called it, barging in on the tribe. "But I genuinely wanted to meet you after everything I had heard about you, your strength, leadership of a great group of men, your protectiveness of your boys. You sounded like my kind of man, and you know what? If our positions had been reversed and you had invaded my territory in front of my men I would have acted exactly the same way – with my fists just as you did.
Prone to anger though he was Randy recognized the truth of Miguel's words, though his own apology was typically fierce. "Fuck you, man, that's bullshit. You know as well as I do that it's me who should do the apologizing. Seeing you come in, a hot handsome stud, I pictured you in bed with Bob and lost my cool. Bob says I'm always too quick with my fists. I shouldn't have hit you and provoked you the way I did, and that's that."
Miguel smiled. "There we go again, Randy. Even when we apologize we challenge each other – competing to see who's the most guilty. Why don't we just accept each other's apology and call it quits – put it behind us, eh?"
Randy grunted, "Hm, well, I guess we both made a mistake and got punished in our own way ... so OK, we're quits." Miguel held out his hand and Randy shrugged, "Oh what the fuck." He grabbed his hand and shook it.
Miguel stared into the gypsy's swarthy chiseled features, stubbled jaw and long black hair ... and the hypnotic blue eyes that had mesmerized so many men in the past. Miguel too found himself drawn to the sexual magnetism of this amazing man. Impulsively he pulled Randy toward him and kissed him fiercely on the lips. Instantly he realized what he was doing and pulled away. "Oh shit, Randy, I'm sorry. I don't know why I ..."
"Ah, no sweat man. A lot o' guys wanna do that ... you just had the guts to go for it. OK, listen, I'm gonna get outa here – take my boat out to the middle of the lake and fish, and think."
The logjam of animosity was broken and from then on the men indulged their similarities rather than their anger. Both keen fisherman, they went out in the rowboat together and spent a relaxed couple of hours fishing, floating in the middle of the lake, the boat rocking gently in the warm breeze. With vibrations of their former fierce rivalry still hanging in the air it was a strange getting-acquainted experience but they were soon swapping stories of their pasts.
As they compared Miguel's early days on the rough streets of Honduras with Randy's battles in rugged West Texas they discovered many similarities, which mirrored all the other things they had in common. They found pleasure in talking man-to-man, pulling no punches – or as Randy put it, no pussyfooting round the issues. They laughed at each other's wild stories, and commiserated at the often solitary nature of dominant men at the peak of manhood.
As could be expected of two experienced fishermen they had caught plenty and as they dragged the boat up the beach Randy grinned. "Right, man, so now is your chance to prove what they all say about you – that you're this hotshot executive chef in a fancy hotel. My little barbecue here ain't so fancy, but you think you can do a number on these fish we caught?"
Miguel willingly agreed, but said, "But Randy, before I cook for you there's something I need you to do for me. I know you prefer plain talk – no beating around the bush – so here goes. Randy, you are one hell of a sexy son-of-a-bitch, and all the time watching you out in that boat I've had a king-size boner in my shorts dripping pre-cum. So here's what I want. I wanna feel your prick in my ass. Fuck me, man."
They both knew that would finally heal the breach in the language they knew best. Miguel knelt down and lowered his mouth over Randy's cock, and soon he was on his back offering his ass to the naked gypsy towering over him. Randy knelt between his legs and his blue eyes pierced Miguel's. "You know I do this to all the new guys. It's not payback time for the way you thrashed me – well, that too – but mostly it's your initiation into the tribe. You sure you want this, buddy?"
"More than anything, Randy. Please fuck me ... I need it so bad. Fuck me, sir ... aaagh!"
It was a spectacularly savage man-on-man fuck. Randy's eyes gleamed and he gloated, "Oh yeah, man, I love fucking big hot studs like you. Boys are great but top-men like you are primo `cos I know you can take it. That's right, uh stud? You can take whatever I throw at you?"
"Try me," Miguel challenged. "Harder ... that all you got, asshole? Thought you were the boss."
"Fuck you, man," Randy yelled. "You want it, asshole? You got it ... here it comes."
And so the merciless jack-hammering continued until finally Miguel knew he was beaten. "Please, man, I need to cum so bad. I give up ... you win. Please, sir, I submit."
"That's better, man. Now you know why I'm the boss and always will be. Feel that dick in your ass? This is how I accept a man into the tribe ... I'm gonna fill your ass with my sperm and you're gonna shoot your load all over that beautiful fucking body of yours. Here it comes man!" Randy slammed in deeper than ever and his cock exploded in the inner depths of his ass.
"Aaaagh!!" Miguel's screams echoed round the lake as his cock unloaded the pent-up juice that now blasted it over his abs, chest and face. For an instant everything went dark and when he came to seconds later he felt Randy's breath on him and looked up into the smiling blue eyes. Randy was lying beside him, propped up on his elbow staring down at him. "You're one of us now, Miguel. You passed the test. Man that was one hot fuck."
Miguel grinned, "You knew I would, big guy. "OK, now how about those fish? Now that you've proved you're the King of the Gypsies, I've gotta show you I'm the King of the Kitchen."
"OK, chef," Randy grinned. "Let's see what you got."
************************ CHAPTER 369 **************************
As Miguel tackled the grill Randy rummaged around in the truck for a white bib apron that the twins always packed but which nobody ever wore – except for the twins themselves, of course. He tossed it to Miguel and said, "Here, chef, let's see how macho you look in an apron."
Miguel took the challenge, put the apron on over his naked body and tied it round his waist. And surprisingly he managed to look just as macho as before, his muscular body bulging under the apron – broad shoulders, hard biceps, muscled thighs below the bottom and – a focus of Randy's hungry gaze – the globes of his perfect, naked butt rising just below the apron strings.
"Jesus," Randy moaned as he cracked open a beer from the cooler, sat back and watched the handsome chef do his stuff at the barbecue, his back – and his butt – turned sideways on to him. Randy smiled at the concentration on Miguel's face as he fired up the barbecue to just the right temperature, placed the trout on the grill and opened the case of spices and condiments the twins included in the supplies they had loaded.
"Man, those kids really know what they're doing," Miguel enthused as he surveyed the contents. "Everything a chef could need."
"Yeah, well," Randy said flippantly, "I don't usually open that box when I come up here on my own. Just slap the fish on the grill and let them do their thing."
"Well, I suppose that's one school of cuisine," Miguel teased. "Though my advice would be not to give up your day job, Randy. As a chef you probably make a great construction boss."
"Hey, don't knock it, buddy. Some of us are cut out to cook, some's born to be construction workers. I'd like to see you wield a sledgehammer." Randy grinned ... "Actually I really would like to see you wield a sledgehammer, big guy."
"I could do that," Miguel grinned. "Cooking can be plenty macho too, ya know." He raised a big carving fork and brutally stabbed one of the fish."
"Ooh, sure scares the hell out of me," Randy grinned.
"Careful, stud, or I'll have to come over there and take care of you."
"Bring it on, stud."
"Cool it, Randy ... the maestro is at work. There's a certain rhythm to cooking, you know, and you just broke mine."
"Ooh, sorry, boss. Hey, I'm happy just to sit back and admire." Randy was feeling more and more at ease with this remarkable man who a day ago had beaten the shit out of him and fucked his ass. And now that same alpha male looked equally at home sprinkling herbs over the barbecue fish, muttering, "A little of this, a pinch of that ..."
"Hey, buddy," Randy said suddenly, "You wanna stay the night with me here?"
"Sure," Miguel said impulsively. "Sounds great." They were both having such a good time in this idyllic place that the ring of Randy's cell phone came as a shock. It was Bob, who immediately noticed the change of tone in Randy's voice from the subdued man before he left.
"Yeah, totally fucking great," he said in response to Bob's question about how things were going. When Bob had hesitantly allowed the twins to give directions to Miguel so he could follow Randy to the lake, Bob had been unsure of the wisdom of that and had crossed his fingers hoping for the best.
He had naturally confided in Mark, trusting in the handsome cop's calm, solid wisdom and, after several long hours without a word from Randy, Mark had suggested that Bob phone him to calm his own concerns. Mark was with Bob now, listening to Randy.
"Guys, you are gonna love this man. We buried our differences real fast – you can probably guess how – and I think he's gonna fit in real well. Sorry, buddy, I should have called you earlier but we kinda got carried away. We went fishing and I'm looking at him right now barbecuing the fish and looking hotter'n hell wearing one of the twins' aprons – and nothing else.
"Matter of fact, we hit it off so well we're gonna spend the night up here together, if it's OK with you. Then we'll come back down there for the tribe's usual Sunday brunch – wouldn't want to miss that. It'll be a kinda homecoming for this Hispanic stud, know what I mean?"
"OK we'll be waiting for you both," Bob said. "I'm very relieved that everything's turned out so well, Randy – I was worried."
"Well worry no more, dude, `cos everything up here is just hunky-dory. I'd let you speak to the guy now only he's in total chef mode, throwing herbs or some such shit on the fish. He says chefs get into a rhythm when they're cooking and, believe me, guys, you do not wanna interrupt this man when he's got his rhythm going. I already tried that."
"Great," Bob said. "Er maybe you could suggest that Miguel call Zack. I know he's worried and could use a little reassurance."
"Will do, buddy. Anyway, looks like our meal's almost ready so I better go. You know how these cooks can be – `eat while the food's hot' – he's getting me well trained. Hey, Mark, take good care of my man while I'm gone, will ya? And we'll see you guys tomorrow. Love you, buddy." And the phone clicked off.
"Well," Bob said, forcing a smile, "Randy seems to be in a good mood."
"Sure does," said Mark. "And you know why, of course ... how they settled their differences."
"Of course, Randy fucked Miguel ... big time, by the sound of it. I can always tell that note of triumph in his voice. And it wasn't only payback time for Miguel fucking him – it was what they used to call the `droit du seigneur' in feudal times where the lord gets the right to fuck another man's new mate."
"You're right," Mark grinned, "and let's hope Zack will be OK about that. But I think we can safely assume that Miguel has come through his initiation with flying colors and is now officially one of the tribe."
So everything was `hunky-dory' – on the surface. But Mark could read Bob's thoughts – even feel his feelings. And, like Bob, Mark could judge Randy's mood by the tone of his voice. And he didn't like what he heard – it was the triumphant King-of-the-Gypsies leader-of-the-pack mood with more than a touch of arrogance whenever Randy had asserted his dominance over a tough alpha male – and, worse, had bonded with him in the process.
The two men locked eyes and Mark said, "Come here old buddy." He folded Bob in his arms and felt him shiver. "It was different this time, Mark," Bob said plaintively. "He's done this with other guys, of course, but I've never heard him so full of ... I dunno, full of joy ... as he was just now with Miguel. Other things too – he knew I would be worried but he didn't call me, I had to call him.
"I don't know why he wants to spend the night with Miguel ... I mean once they've buried their differences and all. Usually he would come running back to me and make love with me in a kind of return-of-the-warrior victory lap. I guess I'm OK with it but in the past he would always call to ask if I minded. This time he just threw it out as a done deal, with a `if it's OK with you' tacked on at the end."
"Hey, hey, buddy, I think you're reading too much into this. You know how Randy gets on a high when he's done his boss of the tribe thing."
"It's not just that, Mark. I heard something in his voice that he uses only with me, different from any of his other tones. It's when he's telling me how much he loves me ... yeah, loves me, Mark. Do you think that's what's going on up there?"
Mark pulled back, looked Bob square in the eyes and chuckled. "Well here's a switch. Usually it's Randy getting all bent out of shape and paranoid that you'll fall for someone else and leave him. Surely you're not having the same delusional fears, are you?"
Bob gazed at Mark with tears in his eyes. "I dunno, Mark. I dunno what to think."
It was a look Mark had seen in Randy's face but never Bob's – the little-boy-lost look of a man whose self-confidence was crumbling into doubt and irrational fear. And naturally Mark, who had been in love with Bob for years, blamed Randy. The thoughtless mother-fucker was hurting Bob again, only this time in a different and more profound way. If only he had come straight home instead of indulging his own selfish pleasures with this new man.
Mark said softly, "Bob, would you like me to spend the night with you?"
Bob's eyes brightened. "Would you, Mark? I would love that. I don't know why I'm being so ... so stupid, I guess, but I ...?
"Hey, hey, buddy, you're a guy who's feeling a bit depressed and needs some company, that's all. And I'm glad you reached out to me. You know I'm always here for you, dude. I love you man, always have." He chuckled. "Ever since that day years ago when I was on patrol and pulled you over for making an illegal U-turn. I came up to the car, you lowered the window, I saw that face and I was hooked – line and sinker."
That made Bob smile. "Yeah, and it's lucky for me that you forgot to give me back my driver's license, which gave you an excuse for coming to the house to return it."
"Oh I'd have found an excuse, don't worry, even if it meant serving you with an arrest warrant. Come to think of it that's exactly what I should have done – put you under arrest and never let you go. Instead of which, I'm the prisoner." He laughed. "Oh I know I could never be a replacement for Randy – I knew that the first time I saw how protective he was of you. But I can always be the faithful stand-in. And at least we'll have tonight. After all, Randy told me to take care of you and there's one sure way I know of doing that."
Bob kissed him, then said, "We should let Zack and the boys know what's going on. I hope Miguel has called Zack, although I know how a man gets when he's fallen under Randy's sexual spell. Let me call the twins."
It was by now the middle of a lazy Saturday afternoon and in the house there were only Bob's twins, Mark's boy Jamie, and Randy's boy Pablo. And across the street Darius was with Zack, keeping vigil and waiting for word about what was happening up at the lake. A pall of gloom had settled over everyone as always happened when there was strife and uncertainty among the men of the tribe. So the twins were relieved to hear Bob's voice."
"OK, Kyle, Kevin," Bob said. "Everything's OK ... I called Randy and he and Miguel have made peace. In fact they're doing so well that they're gonna spend the night together up at the lake." He detected a silence at the other end and imagined the twins exchanging concerned looks. They took after him in the sensitive antennae they had developed. "Er, how many will there be for dinner tonight, guys?"
"Just the usual suspects, sir – us guys; Mark and Jamie; Pablo; and Darius and Zack from across the street."
"That's good let's keep all this just between us for now. Whatever comes of it all will be common knowledge soon enough. So do me a favor and tell the others what I've told you and arrange for drinks out by the pool for the eight of us, in an hour or so, OK?"
"Not a problem, sir," Kyle said with the crisp efficiency Bob had come to expect. "And sir, until then, can we assume you will be in your room with Mark and not to be disturbed?"
"You know, guys," Bob grinned, "sometimes I think that awareness of yours is way too developed. You gotta curb your intuition."
"Will do, sir, not a problem," said the twins in unison with more than a hint of mischief in their voices.
"So," Mark grinned, "we have an hour or so ... an hour when we are `not to be disturbed'. Those boys of yours are uncanny – they read my mind."
"They can read everyone's mind," Bob said. "Sometimes I think they're psychic."
"Question now," Mark smiled, "is what we are we gonna do for the next hour." They sputtered with laughter, then Mark got more serious. "Bob, I'll level with you. You know I'm in love with you – always have been since the moment I laid eyes on you. But I'm not a fool either, and I know that you and Randy will never separate, no matter what damn fool stunt he's pulling with Miguel right now.
"Oh I understand your reaction to his phone call and I agree that there's some kinda macho bromance going on between the two of them. But they'll get that out of their system soon enough and he'll come back to you full of guilt. In the meantime, I'm here for you, Bob, as I always am, and I think I know just what you need.
"Remember when we first met? I was a cop near the end of my beat and you were a businessman driving through Griffith Park after one too many martinis at your power lunch. A cop always recognizes drunk driving and you fit the profile, especially when you got lost and pulled that crazy U-turn on the dead end road that ended in trees. Remember what you felt when you saw the red light flash in your rear-view mirror?"
Bob smiled. "Do I ever! The first words that come to mind were, `Oh shit, I'm busted'. I knew I was way over the alcohol limit and the last thing I needed in my executive position was a DUI – could have been a career breaker. So when you looked at me with those blue eyes of yours and I saw a flicker in them and I asked if there might be a way I could avoid a citation – man I would have done just about anything."
"Yeah," Mark sighed, "and I was stupid enough not to make the most of it. But I was a cop doing something that would have ended my career, so I was extra cautious. As it was, all I did was make you walk deeper into the trees and stand facing me. I didn't think I had ever seen a more beautiful man than you, with a face like a Superman and a body that even your business suit and tie couldn't conceal.
"And suddenly I knew I had to see you naked ... so I ordered you to strip. I watched in a daze as you shrugged off the jacket, then loosened the tie and pulled it off. You unbuttoned your smart white shirt, opened it, pulled it out of your well-tailored pants and there you stood. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen – a handsome executive with the body of death standing stripped to the waist in a clearing hidden deep in the park.
"Man I almost lost my load in my uniform pants and had to close my eyes. Then I heard your voice ask, `The pants too, officer?'
"I opened my eyes and snarled, `You wanna avoid a drunk-driving ticket? ... Yeah the pants too.' I wanted to sound real authoritarian, like a badass cop, though what I was doing went against every good-cop instinct in my body. Part of me wanted to get on my bike and ride away but I was rooted to the spot as you unzipped your pants and let them drop. I stared at your muscular thighs and then gasped as you bent down to take off your pants, shoes and socks and I saw that incredible ass pushing against your white boxers.
"I could see the shape of your huge cock through the thin cotton of the shorts and when you asked, Shorts, too, officer?' I remember giving the oddest reply. You need to be naked, sir.'
"It was the sir' all cops are trained to use, but it was more than that. It was the sir' of total infatuation with a man who was driving me wild. You dropped your shorts and, as you stood there naked, magnificent, the dappled sunlight shining through the trees over your incredible body, your long cock swinging between your thighs, I was a heartbeat away from throwing you on the ground, ripping my dick out of my pants and fucking that perfect ass.
"But I lost my nerve. I just told you to turn round and feasted my eyes on the white globes of your ass with tan lines above and below. I imagined pushing my rigid dick between those mounds and feeling the heat of that naked executive's ass. I was so close to cumming that I ordered you to turn round again – and you did something that totally blew me away.
"Those deep brown eyes locked on mine as you walked backward and leaned against a tree. You reached back and wrapped your arms back round the tree. My God,' I thought. He wants it ... this beautiful man actually wants it.'
I remained motionless in shock, but in my fantasy I saw myself walking over to you, cuffing your hands behind the tree, then working you over, kissing those full lips, licking your body then falling on my knees before you and taking that huge dick in my mouth while you struggled to get free. Then you stopped struggling and your dick responded, getting hard in my mouth so I could taste pre-cum oozing from it.
"Lost in my fantasy I knew I had to have your ass. I un-cuffed you, turned you round to face the tree and re-cuffed your wrists to a branch above your head. I looked at that broad, muscular back sloping down to a slim waist and perfect butt. I slapped the cheeks, watching the globes bounce under the blows and red handprints appear on the white flesh. I ripped open my uniform pants ... my cock was rock hard ... I plunged it into the hot depths of the naked executive's ass ... and busted my load inside it."
Mark paused, lost in the memory of that incredible day. "Then reality crashed in on me. I was still standing on the middle of the clearing looking at you with your back against the tree, arms wrapped back round it. It had all been a fantasy – none of it had happened – except I had almost creamed my shorts.
"I desperately needed to cum, so I ordered you to stroke your cock while I rubbed the bulge in my pants. Watching that naked jock businessman jack off was unbelievable. You must've been real turned on too `cos took only a minute and when I saw you shoot your jizz across the clearing my cock erupted in my pants and I felt cum running inside my shorts and down my leg.
"Then I panicked. I couldn't believe I had behaved so recklessly ... done things that could end my career. If you reported me I would be ruined ... but then I looked in your eyes and knew beyond doubt that you would not report me. But I had to get away ... fast. I turned, ran back through the trees, straddled my bike and roared away.
"As I drove out of the park headed back to the precinct house my mind was in a whirl. The panic had subsided and all I could see was you, that handsome business executive handcuffed naked to a tree ... you were there for me to fuck, you wanted it, I knew it ... and yet I hadn't done it. You fucking idiot,' I said out loud. You didn't do it. Fuck ... fuck ... fuck. I pounded the handlebars with my fists in frustration.
"And when I got back to the precinct house I went straight to the john, locked the door and looked at myself in the mirror. But I saw you – saw you tied naked to the tree waiting for me to fuck your ass – and I jerked off all over the mirror. When I got home I beat off again, cursing myself for not doing what I had longed to do.
"Then, when I took my pants off your driver's license fell out on the floor ... and that was my chance. This time I seized it and several days later I was knocking on your door, embarrassed as hell, giving you back your license."
He stopped, his story over, then smiled and shrugged. "Missed opportunities in life eh, buddy? Who knows? If I had gone a step further in that clearing, who knows how things might have turned out? You and me, we could have ..."
Bob smiled. "But as I recall, when you visited you met Randy and you realized that that ship had sailed. But hey, it turned out we were all on the ship ... still are. And you and me, we're here together." He grinned, "And I'll tell you what. That day, in the clearing, when you made me strip naked, I fantasized too ... the same fantasy as yours. But it never happened and I ended up just beating my meat because a cop ordered me to."
"But that fantasy has come to life many times since then," Mark said roguishly. "Except not completely ... we never quite did it right. But like you said, here we are, you and me. And we still have best part of an hour."
Mark's voice became coldly authoritative, as the cop's voice had been that day. "Stand up." Bob obeyed and Mark surveyed him – not in the smart business clothes of that day but in blue jeans and a casual white linen shirt buttoned up almost to the neck and with the cuffs turned back at the wrists. No, not the same clothes, but the same handsome square-featured muscle-god with the body of death.
"Stay right there," Mark ordered. "Don't move." He left the room and went downstairs to his own apartment.
Bob's heart was beating fast and his cock was throbbing in his jeans. Mark had been right. This is just what he needed – and Randy was not here to give it to him. When Bob had called Randy at the lake he had heard in his voice that note of triumph he always had after subduing a tough alpha male like himself. And usually Randy would rush right back to Bob to vent his lust and power over him by subjecting him to a savage fuck – a caveman fuck to demonstrate that he was the unquestioned master of his world, including his mate Bob.
That was when Bob craved Randy most, the ferocious gypsy pounding his ass to prove his love and dominance. But this time was different and what he imagined was happening between Randy and Miguel had unnerved him.
Bob needed to feel that power, to surrender his ass to such a man, but there was no one else who could match Randy's combination of male passion and animal lust. No other man except one – a man who had that intensity of love for him but who could treat him as harshly as Randy in a fantasy world of total domination.
And suddenly that man appeared. The door opened and in walked the same cop who had apprehended him long ago and stirred his lust in that clearing in the trees.
Bob gasped as he saw Mark in his full motorcycle cop uniform – black serge pants with a silver stripe tucked into high, shiny boots, and a black shirt with a triangle of white T-shirt at the neck. His slim waist was cinched by a heavy black belt hung with police equipment – handcuffs, flashlight and nightstick. He pulled off his white, black-peaked helmet, shook his head and ran his hand through his shock of blond hair.
For a moment it was Mark, saying, "OK, buddy. Let's rewind and replay this thing – play it the way I should have played it when I pulled over that macho business executive and prepared to write him a drunk-driving ticket."
And then Mark was gone, replaced in Bob's imagination by the anonymous Greek-God cop who made his dick hard but held his career and his future in his hands. It was easy to slip back into the emotion of that day as he said, "A DUI could ruin me officer. Is there any possible way we could avoid that?"
The cop stared at him, reached forward and unbuttoned his shirt almost to the waste. He pulled out his nightstick and used it to flick open Bob's shirt and display the mounds of his pecs. Then he walked round him, running the stick lightly over his face, down his neck and down the cleft between his pecs. When it reached the jeans the stick circled the crotch then rubbed against the bulge of his cock. The cop grinned menacingly. "Hmm, maybe there is a way. Depends how far you're prepared to obey my orders."
"I'll do anything, officer – anything you say."
"That so? Hmm, OK let's see that body. Take off your shirt."
Quick to obey, Bob pulled off his shirt and let it drop on the floor. The cop stared at him stripped to the waist and again traced the nightstick round his pecs and over the ridges of his eight-pack abs. "Not bad ... not bad at all. Anyone ever tell you look like a Superman clone?" Without waiting for an answer he said, "Right, let's see the rest."
"The pants too, officer?"
"You wanna avoid a drunk-driving ticket? ... Yeah the pants too."
Bob kicked off his loafers, unbuttoned his jeans, let them drop and stepped out of them. In only his white boxers he stood staring at the cop who walked round him and tapped his ass cheeks with the stick, then ran it up and down the crack and finally pressed the head of the stick hard against his hole. Bob shuddered with excitement and even a trace of genuine fear, wondering just how far this would go.
"OK, you need to be naked, sir."
Again without hesitation Bob dropped the shorts, stood buck naked before the cop and instinctively clasped his hands behind his back. The cop's blue eyes penetrated his and he felt his legs go weak. The officer unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock that was as hard and long as a steel rod and stroked it slowly.
He smiled sadistically. "You told me you'll do anything to avoid a citation ... anything I tell you to. This is your last chance to change your mind. You still mean that?"
"Yes, officer ... anything at all."
The voice became steely. "Right. On your knees, man." Bob dropped to his knees, his face level with the huge cock. "You know what you have to do, man." Bob opened his mouth wide, the cop grabbed Bob's thick black hair and pulled his face onto his cock, letting it slide all the way to the back of his throat till he gagged. He pulled back, then pushed it in again, making him choke again.
Mark looked down at the spectacular Superman face gagging on his cock and knew he was giving Bob exactly what he wanted.
But Mark was so close to his climax that the face fuck didn't last long. The cock pulled out but the cop still grabbed Bob's hair and looked down at the sculpted square-jawed features, mouth sagging open with drool running down the stubbled chin. "You're a handsome man, sir," the cop said. "I enjoy handsome, rugged men. Only trouble is they have to work even harder to get out of trouble. You still ready to do what I order?"
"Yes, officer. Anything."
"OK, get on the fucking bed. On your back." Bob scrambled to his feet and lay on his back as ordered. "Right, regulations dictate that I have to restrain the suspect. Spread your arms." Bob stretched his arms up to the corners of the bed and the cop unhooked two sets of handcuffs from his belt. With one set he attached the left wrist to a corner bedpost and used the other to attach the right wrist. Then he stood back to admire his prisoner, the naked muscle-god chained to the bed at his mercy.
Bob's cock was stiff as a pole as the cop stood at the foot of the bed staring down at him, tapping his nightstick in his palm. "You've heard rumors of the sadistic cops who arrest hot studs like you, strip them naked and get their kicks by shoving their nightsticks up their ass until they beg for mercy."
Their eyes met and for a split second Bob panicked and pulled at his restraints. But he saw a look in Mark's eyes that did not match his words. It was the look of love and lust that Bob had seen so often before and he relaxed into the incredible fantasy of what might have happened that day in the clearing.
"But you are much too fine a man for that kind of brutal treatment ... you deserve something special." The cop tossed the nightstick contemptuously to the floor. "And besides," he said, stroking his cock, "I've got my own equipment here that's more effective than any nightstick.
"You see, man, that's the deal. The price you pay for me letting you go is having a police officer's dick in your ass. Soon as I saw you I knew I wanted to fuck the ass of the macho business executive who looked like Superman. You ever been butt-fucked by a guy before?"
"No, officer."
"Good, a rookie. I like that." The cop walked round the bed surveying his helpless victim and started slowly to unbutton his shirt. Bob inhaled sharply as he saw the T-shirt being slowly exposed as the black shirt fell back away from the cop's muscled chest. Soon it was open all the way down, the cop pulled it out of his waistband and let it hang open over the T-shirt. Bob was being driven wild as the cop slowly stripped before his eyes.
"Aaah!" Bob groaned as the cop shrugged the shirt off and stood there stripped down to his T-shirt that clung to his muscular torso, showing the contours of his pecs and the ridges of his abs under the thin cotton, the short sleeves pushed back by his bulging biceps. The shirt tapered down from broad shoulders over sloping lats and down under the heavy belt at his tight waist.
Bob waited for the T-shirt to come off so he could see the sculpted blond cop stripped to the waist ... but he waited in frustration. The cop walked round the bed sensuously stroking his own chest and abs through the T-shirt. "Take a look at the motorcycle cop who's gonna fuck your ass, stud. But I ain't gonna make it easy for you ... there's something I have to do first."
To Bob's surprise the cop got on the bed and stood astride him, then rested one boot lightly on his chest. "You see man, you have to learn to respect the law. I'm the boss around here, you're my prisoner and I can do whatever I fucking want to you. He lowered the boot and rested it on the bed beside the captive's face. "You're a big-shot executive, a man used to giving orders, but you gotta show me you respect the law. Do it, man."
Bob twisted his head to the side and licked the cop's shiny black leather boot. It was an act of degradation for the handsome, powerful businessman but Bob's cock shuddered and oozed pre-cum as he cleaned the officer's boot. The foot lifted and hovered over Bob's face as he licked the sole clean.
The cop stood astride his chest again and lowered himself down until his ass cheeks rested on Bob's cock that slid against the rough serge of his pants grinding over it. Bob gazed up at the spectacular sight of the blond muscle-cop, his torso straining against his T-shirt. His eyes opened wide as the cop raised his arms, reached behind his neck and slowly pulled the shirt up.
It sprang clear of his waist then rose up, over the razor sharp abs, revealed the lower curve of his pecs, then the whole chest until the cop pulled it off over his head and tossed it aside. "Aaagh." Again Bob gasped as he gazed up at the cop, finally stripped to the waist, his magnificent torso flexed, muscles rippling.
Bob pulled frantically at his restraints, desperate to touch the cop's flesh as he felt his ass grind against his cock. He gazed up at the body, the chiseled features, tousled blond hair and the blue eyes boring into his. Overwhelmed, he had no choice. "No," he gasped. "No, please, I gotta ... no ... fuck ... fuuuck. His body shook as cum raced up from his balls and erupted from his cock between the cop's ass and his own waist.
"No," he moaned, half sobbing. "I didn't mean to ... I tried to stop, but ..."
Mark jumped off the bed and gazed down at him. "No sweat, man. I meant that to happen. See, fucking a virgin ass is great, but when the man has just shot his wad it makes his ass even more tender and he really feels the cock pushing in him for the first time. Which is what you're gonna feel now, big guy."
Mark knelt between Bob's legs, leaned forward and licked the cum that had splashed over his abs. He leaned further forward and closed his mouth over Bob's, sharing the taste of semen with him. Then he pulled back and smiled into his eyes. "This is what I should have done that first time. I should have cuffed you in that clearing, stripped naked for you and made you bust your load. Then I should have fucked your ass ... like I'm gonna do now."
He pushed Bob's legs back, bent down and licked his ass, lubricating it with Bob's own jizz. Then he leaned forward, braced his hands on the bed beside Bob's face and pressed his dick against his hole. "And that time on the trees – you wanted it then, man, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir," Bob said gazing up into the blue eyes."
"Like you want it now."
"Yes, sir. I want it so bad. Fuck me, officer. Fuck my ass. Aaaagh." He groaned as he felt the cop's rod slide into his ass, all the way down, then pull back and push in deeper, faster and faster until he was getting fucked by the powerful, shirtless muscle-cop just the way he wanted.
"Man," Mark said, "I was a damn fool. I should have fucked you like this that day in the clearing – arrested you, cuffed you to a tree and fucked your gorgeous ass. I should have made you cum as I did just now and fucked you some more and made you cum again and again. You feel that cock in your ass, man, like you would have felt it then?"
"Yes, officer, I feel your cock inside me. You're so damn beautiful, you could have fucked me as long and often and as hard as you wanted."
"Yeah," Mark growled as he pounded ass, "and when I'd finished with you I would have called for backup. My buddies would have come on their bikes and seen the naked Superman handcuffed to a tree and they would have lined up to fuck your ass in turn. They'd have made you suck the dick of one cop while another fucked you up the butt, over and over again.
"And when you had been gang-fucked again and again by a bunch of motorcycle cops, your body pouring with jizz, I would have claimed ownership, slung your naked body over my motorcycle and driven you to my home, where I would have chained you up and fucked you some more. Then at last I would have released you and we would have made love, and would have fallen in love, and lived together forever.
"And all the time, every day, I would have heard you beg me to cum in your ass and let you cum all over that flawless body ... just as we're gonna do now. You want that don't you, buddy?" Tell me you want it."
"Mark, I love you, man. I want it ... I wanna feel your juice in my ass. Please, sir, cum inside me and watch me cum ... please, officer ... fuck me ... yeah ... fuuuck me ... aaagh."
Their screams echoed round the room as they shot their loads, Mark deep in his lover's ass and Bob erupting for a second time all over his own body, writhing beneath the shirtless cop who had finally re-lived his fantasy of what he should have done that day so long ago.
When their heaving bodies subsided Mark smiled down at Bob. "I suppose I should un-cuff you but I kinda like that ownership idea where I keep you tied up so I can work you over whenever I feel like it."
"Hmm, has a certain ring to it," Bob agreed. "The whole thing sounded good ... except maybe for the nightstick bit and that serial gang-fuck by a bunch of motorcycle cops."
"Yeah, well I just threw that in to get you off. Not that I'd ever let anything like that happen to you ... well, maybe not. Sure would be hot to watch Superman get gang-fucked, though."
"Mark," Bob said gently. "What I need now more than anything is to touch you."
"Right. First thing a cop learns is how to snap handcuffs on a guy real fast. Second thing he learns is not to lose the key. So here goes, buddy – free at last." The cuffs clicked open, Bob rubbed his wrists then reached up and stroked Mark's face with both hands. "Mark, you are one hot, gorgeous fucking police officer." He ran his hands down over his neck and his chest that was now gleaming with sweat. "And that fantasy about what might have happened if things had worked out that way. But best not to go there, eh?"
"No, buddy, better not. Look, Bob, I know I can never replace Randy in your affections, but I'm always there for you when the big lug goes haywire and does his thing. Hey, I make a pretty good understudy waiting in the wings for when the lead actor breaks a leg, don't you think?"
Bob smiled. "Mark, with your looks and charisma you are nobody's understudy – always the leading man, always the star. Now come here and hold me, officer." They fell into each other's arms and kissed, licked, laughed and made love just as intimately as when the fantasy cop had been fucking Superman.
"Hey," Mark said, "you still want me to spend the night with you?"
"Officer, you are gonna stay here all night even if I have to chain you to the bed."
"Hmm, now there's a thought."
As they chuckled and nuzzled there was a knock on the door and the twins came in. "Sir," Kyle said, we just came to tell you that Zack and the boys are down by the pool drinking and feeding their faces. We thought you might be ready to join them."
"Guys," Bob said, "how is it you know exactly the right moment to come and get me?"
"Oh that's easy, sir," Kevin grinned. "We're tipped off by the sounds and we wait for what they call at the Grady House the Tarzan yell. Well, at the Grady House it is an actual Tarzan yell when Grady thumps his chest."
"And here it's just a lot of yelling and screaming that gives you your cue, eh? OK, guys, we'll be down in ten minutes."
While Bob had been seeking comfort in Mark's arms after his phone call to Randy, Darius had been taking care of his man Zack. Miguel had called him from the lake to reassure him that the wounds were healed and that he and Randy were getting along just fine.
But Zack had read much more into that simple `just fine', just as Bob had accurately guessed that Randy and Miguel were involved in much more than simple male bonding. It was a thin line between bromance and romance.
Zack had put a brave face on it and told Miguel to enjoy himself, though he was surprised and disappointed that Miguel had chosen to spend the night at the lake with Randy. Zack knew better than anyone the seductive strength of Randy's sexual magnetism.
The other senior boys – the twins, Pablo and Jamie – had huddled in conversation too. By now of course, everyone knew the contents and, more importantly, the tone of the conversations between Bob and Randy, Zack and Miguel. They too knew the almost hypnotic power of Randy's sexuality and his need to assert it, especially over a new, alpha muscle-god like the handsome Hispanic. Nobody had any doubt that Miguel had fallen under Randy's spell.
So the conversation round the table was muted when Bob and Mark appeared, both looking magnificent in just boxer shorts, bathed in the after-glow of what clearly had been spectacular sex.
The twins served their usual irresistible gourmet snacks and the wine flowed, and yet the elephant sitting in the middle of the group went undiscussed. What was there to say? They all knew the score, they knew Randy, and they knew that nothing would be resolved until the men came home from the lake tomorrow and made their appearance at the tribe's ritual Sunday brunch.
So the conversation was light and cordial, and only the special deference and concern paid to Bob and Zack, the perceived injured parties, indicated that there were serious undercurrents running under the placid surface. Bob was careful to make sure that everyone was taken care off. "So what's the plan for this evening, guys?"
The twins were obviously taking charge. "Well, sir, Zack is taking Darius out to dinner. We thought you and Mark might like dinner served in the master suite, which would leave Pablo, Jamie and us twins to have an evening and, er, a night together."
Mark looked anxiously at Jamie. "Jamie are you sure you'll be OK with ...?"
Jamie interrupted with a laugh. "No sweat, sir, don't be worried about me. Long time since I spent, er, quality time with Pablo and the twins. It'll be a kind of senior boy sleepover."
"And if that word sounds tame," Pablo grinned, "don't be fooled. Nothing tame when us guys get together ... not much sleep either."
And so the cracks in the tribe's fabric were papered over under a veneer of good company. But when it came time for the twins to clear away the food the other boys helped and went to the kitchen, leaving the three men alone.
In the kitchen it was clearly time for a senior boy huddle. Pablo, Jamie, Darius and the twins sat round the kitchen table and Pablo took the lead. "What the fuck was that bullshit out there, guys? Here we are facing a crisis among the leaders of the tribe and we're talking about the fucking weather and who the fuck's gonna sleep with who tonight. If the guys are gonna pussyfoot around the subject and wimp out on the whole thing it's time we here took charge. I mean, what are we – men or boys?"
"I agree," Jamie said rather more calmly. "We could all see how hurt Bob was, even though he covered it up well. I mean, when a lover turns his back on you ..."
"Hey," Pablo flared up in his dad's defense, "this mess is not Randy's. Hell, he was the one who got beaten and fucked by the other guy ..."
"Only because Miguel had been insulted by Randy," Darius bristled in Miguel's defense.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Kevin said. "Is this what we mean my taking charge? Fighting among ourselves, taking sides?"
"Kevin's right," Kyle said. "We got a real complicated situation here. As we speak, Randy and Mario could be getting a real thing going between them – sure sounds like it. That's gonna rile Zack big time and I sure don't wanna see Zack and Randy tearing each other apart. And what about Bob, rejected by Randy for another guy and getting closer and closer to Mark. We know they've been in love with each other for years. How's Randy gonna react to that? Another feud between the cop and the construction boss?"
"Guys, you're right," said Jamie, the voice of reason. "Now we may be reading too much into all of this but I suspect not. Something like this could tear the tribe apart. So I suggest we senior boys make a pact now. When the guys get back tomorrow, if things start to go downhill us guys step in – big time. "`Cos all the men have so much emotion involved in all this bullshit that I don't think they'll be able to sort it out themselves. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Right," Jamie continued. "Pablo, you think you can handle Randy?"
Pablo grinned with a touch of arrogance. "Leave the big guy to me. Me and him are more like buddies these days than master and boy. He'll end up doing what I tell him."
"And you can leave Zack and Miguel to me," Darius said. "We three bonded real close, and I understand them. Might be some rough-stuff involved – you know those two are real into leather and all that shit – but I guarantee Miguel can be brought into line, no matter how tough and macho he is."
Jamie looked at the twins. "Guys, what about this stuff between Bob and Mark? This is a bit more subtle – gonna call for a lot of finesse."
The twins grinned at each other and Kyle said, "Men, we may look like the meek, hardworking chefs of the outfit but don't let the perky chef's hats fool you. When push comes to shove Bob usually ends up doing what we tell him to." Kevin smiled, "Bro, don't you mean `suggest' that he does?" "Yeah, that too," Kyle chuckled.
"So it's deal," Jamie said as they all clasped hands in the middle of the table. "We gotta hold it together. One for all and all for one."
"Damn right," Pablo growled
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 370
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.
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