A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 104 By Rob Williams
IN THIS CHAPTER:
Zack shows Darius what it takes to be a real man, starting with physical labor. "Zack was giving Darius his wildest fantasy ... being put to work by a big, muscular slave master." "Think you can handle it, boy?" ... "Sir, yes sir!" Bob too educates the twins, and they show their thanks in a spectacular way. "Bob had never felt more alive as the two handsome young brothers approached the bed to service his naked body."
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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – CHAPTER 104 – "A Real Man"
Darius was preening in front of Pablo, Jamie and the twins, boasting about his upcoming trip with Zack. "So this is it, dudes. We're off to the dunes ... just the two of us, Zack and me. He calls me `bro', you know. He says we're gonna be two regular guys, good buddies hanging out together, and he's gonna show me what it takes to be a real man."
"As opposed to the class clown," laughed Pablo, teasing him.
"I don't care if you call me that," said Darius haughtily. "Zack says you can make people laugh and still be a man."
It was just such a conversation, a week before, that had caused Darius to spill his doubts and insecurities to Zack. "People always think of me as the funny one, the cut-up," he had said. "But sir, I want to be thought of as a man ... a man like you. I try to copy you, sir, like the way you dress and all, but ... I wanna be more ... macho. Like you."
"Hell, kid," Zack said "you really have a strange idea about what makes a man. It's not all bodies and boots and macho posturing, you know. Maybe we haven't spent enough time together, talking man to man. Shit, I've spent so much time fucking you I've neglected your education."
And so Zack had planned this weekend trip up the coast to his shack in the Guadalupe dunes, where he would try to show Darius what a man is made of. It wouldn't hurt that Bob and the twins would be joining them the next day. He knew how the twins looked up to Darius and already thought of him as a hot young stud.
Bob and the boys saw them off at the gate. "Don't spend too long up there," Bob said. "You sure don't want to miss the weekend when Hassan hits town again. Mark says he's gonna have him stay with him and Jamie, and he wants him to get to know all us guys."
"Yeah," Zack grinned. "Well I can think of one guy who won't exactly roll out the welcome mat."
Bob smiled back at him. "Leave Randy to me. Trust me, we won't have a repeat of last time when he beat the shit out of Hassan."
"Well good luck with that one, buddy. Anyway, we're off. Can't wait for you to join us tomorrow morning." They hugged ... tight enough and long enough for both of them to get stiff erections ...
Zack and Darius drove north on the 101 Freeway in easy, relaxed silence at first. Both men were wearing jeans, boots and sleeveless black muscle T-shirts, Darius as always dressed like his master. Zack had his free arm slung over his boy's shoulder and Darius breathed in the musky smell of Zack's sweaty armpit, a smell that always made his dick hard. In fact that was a more-or-less permanent state for Darius when he was with the black muscle-god ... continuous erection.
Zack smiled to himself and decided to plunge right into the subject at hand. "Tell me, Darius. Do you like being my boy?"
Darius looked at him in surprise. "What? Of course I do, sir. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. Being a boy is awesome ..."
"...but ..." Zack said. "I heard a `but' coming up."
"But ..." Darius said cautiously. "Sir, do you think it's possible to be someone's boy and still be a man?"
"It is if you're my boy! You don't think I would have chosen anyone who wasn't hot young stud, do you? Listen, Darius. It takes a hell of a man be the boy of a guy like me. You have to be real secure in yourself, be confident enough to take orders and to get off on doing what your master tells you. You know I can be a son-of-a-bitch sometimes but you never complain, never object, never refuse. It takes a real tough guy to do all that and still come back for more. It's what I love about you."
He chuckled. "And to top it off, you make me laugh too. It takes a really confident man to be able to laugh at himself ... laugh at the world."
"Yeah, but what about all the fantasies, sir? I know you guys call me the King of Fantasy and it's true I'm always thinking about hot scenes, hot guys and..." he hesitated, "...and sometimes, sir, I ... I jack off thinking about them."
Zack laughed and squeezed his shoulder. "Of course you do, bro. Wouldn't be a man if you didn't. Besides, I've seen you. One time when you didn't know I was there I watched you beat off looking at yourself in the mirror. It was so damned hot I shot my load watching you."
Darius looked at him in surprise. Then he settled back in his seat with a warm feeling of intimacy with his master. "I didn't know that sir. Hell, the thought of you cumming while you watch me cum makes my dick hard."
"I thought it was hard all the time when you're with me."
"Oh ... you know about that too, sir?"
"Kid, I know a lot more about you than you think. One thing I'd like to know, though, is what you see in me that you don't think you measure up to."
"Oh, that's easy, sir. You're so incredibly beautiful and you have this awesome, muscular body. When I watch you work, you're so strong ... like you could do anything and never get tired. I wish I was that tough."
"Hey, bro, don't sell yourself short. I've watched you work, too, and you have a shit-load of energy and strength. I love watching you work ... always turns me on. That's why I always fuck your sweet ass when work's over ... in case you hadn't noticed."
"Oh, I noticed sir, every time," grinned Darius.
"Besides," Zack continued, "it's not only brute force that makes a man. There also comes a time when a man has to be gentle, nurturing, show his concern for others."
Darius smiled at him. "Just like you're doing for me right now, sir." He sighed deeply. "I just wish I could prove all those things to myself ... and especially to you, sir. I want to show you how strong and tough I can be, and then how good I can be to someone else ... maybe someone a bit younger than me."
There was silence as Zack's mind churned, formulating a plan where Darius could do all those things. "OK, bro, you're on. This weekend I'll help you prove yourself, show me how tough you are. We'll start with the physical strength thing. That's easy ... I'll put you to work."
Darius smiled for an instant, then became serious again. "Problem is, sir, when you say something like that I'm already fantasizing ... about you standing over me making me work hard. My fantasies always get in the way."
"What do you mean, get in the way? Fantasies can be part of the whole deal, kiddo. Listen, remember about a week ago on the construction site I was showing the crew the fastest way to break up concrete with a pick-axe?"
"Oh yeah," said Darius, his eyes shining. "I remember that real well."
"Probably beat off later thinking about it too, am I right?" Darius nodded. "Well I knew all the other guys were watching too," Zack said, "... and I fantasized about it. I kind of stood outside the scene and watched this gorgeous, black muscle-stud construction boss swinging the axe. He was stripped to the waist, his perfect black body running with sweat, muscles flexing, veins standing out as he worked.
"I knew you and the guys were getting off on it, so I put on a show, and you know what? That gave me even more strength, more determination to smash that concrete to rubble. So you see, fantasies can help ... they can help you get through hard work like that, help your get through the day ... get through your life, even. When we get to the shack I'm gonna show you, kid. And you're gonna love it."
"Wow," Darius breathed. "This is shaping up to be one hell of a weekend."
As the truck bounced over the sand toward the shack Darius's whole body was alive, tingling with anticipation. And when they unloaded the truck he gasped as he saw that Zack had brought his big leather bag with him. He always knew what that meant.
They settled in and had a quick bite to eat ... they had brought sandwiches and lots of protein shakes. "Eat up good, kid," Zack said. "You're gonna need it. There's a project I was gonna tackle when we got here. I need to put in a new septic tank and that requires a big, deep hole to be dug in the sand. I was gonna have us do it together, but after that conversation we had on the way up here ..."
Darius ate as much as he could, drank plenty of water ... and then waited. Zack stood up, pulled something out of a drawer and threw it to Darius. When he spoke his voice had become hard, harsh even. "Here, boy," he said. "Put these on." Darius grabbed the shorts Zack had thrown to him, an old pair of thin, ragged, gray shorts Zack usually wore when he was out here. They hadn't been washed in a while and they were stained with dry cum and drops of piss. Just holding them made Darius's cock rock hard.
He stripped naked and pulled on the shorts. Then he watched mesmerized as Zack pulled off his T-shirt and stretched his muscles, stripped down to black jeans and boots. Darius followed him outside behind the shack where Zack walked around looking down at the sand, stamping on various spots with his boot. He grabbed a stick and traced a large oblong in the sand.
"Here, that's the spot. This is where the septic tank will go." He looked penetratingly into Darius's eyes. "But first we need a hole. About five feet deep. The sand is fairly loose but it'll still take a shit-load of back-breaking work. Think you can handle it boy?"
"Yes, sir," said Darius eagerly. This is just what he had wanted ... a chance to show his master how strong he was, to show he had the toughness and determination to prove his manhood. Only thing was, he didn't see where the fantasy came in.
Zack picked up a shovel leaning against the shack and threw it to Darius. "OK, boy," he growled. "Start digging."
With a determined look on his face Darius struck the sand, relieved to find that it was dry and not too hard-packed. Maybe this wasn't going to be so tough after all, he thought. Looking downward, concentrating on making a good start, Darius didn't notice that Zack had gone quickly into the shack and returned a few minutes later with his leather bag. Darius heard his footsteps and was aware that he was watching him, but he didn't look up ... not until he heard his master's deep voice. And when he finally looked up he gasped.
Still wearing his jeans and boots Zack had put on a black leather vest, hanging open so it only half covered his hard, rounded pecs. He was wearing a black leather cap and dark, mirror glasses. Here was Darius's fantasy. The black muscle-god was an icon in black leather ... a taskmaster ... and Darius was his young black slave.
To complete the image Zack walked forward holding a leather collar that he buckled round Darius's neck, a mark of ownership. He gazed into his boy's eyes and saw infinite gratitude in them. The boy had never loved his master more than this moment. Zack had known just what to do, giving Darius his wildest fantasy ... being put to work by a big, muscular slave driver.
But it was much more than that. It was like parallel worlds ... fantasy and reality ... and here, in the real world, was the boy's way to prove his masculinity ... to show that, even as a slave, he was a tough, proud, virile young man ... a real man. And now he knew that Zack had been right. The overlay of fantasy heightened his strength and determination to put on a good show.
And so he began digging with renewed vigor and enthusiasm. He felt his body charged with a force he had not felt before, felt his mind grow stronger ... no longer the mind of a subservient boy but of a muscular man in his macho prime, focused on a tough job of work. He glimpsed the figure of Zack standing a few feet away, arms folded across his chest, watching his slave behind his mirrored glasses.
Darius felt supreme. He would show his master, show him how tough he could be. And so he dug as if his life depended on it.
He lost track of time. All he saw was the sand round his feet, all he felt was the blazing sun beating down on his naked flesh, all he heard was the thud of his spade, the distant sound of waves and the scream of seagulls wheeling overhead, spectators of his endless toil. His muscles were cracking, his shoulders and arms burned, his body poured with rivers of sweat. The thin shorts were sodden and clung to him, his huge, hard cock outlined underneath.
Zack had scarcely moved. He gazed down at the beautiful young slave, collar round his neck, laboring to please his master, his chiseled black features tense with grit and determination. He saw the muscles flex, the broad back ripple and the shoulders bulge as the boy dug, again and again, throwing aside piles of sand as the trench grew deeper.
Darius was now standing waist deep in the hole he was digging, and the sand here had become damp, compacted, heavy. The work became harder and he finally felt his strength ebbing. He was determined as ever but he began to fear that his body would let him down. He clenched his jaw. No, he would not give up ... a real man would not give up. He had to do as his master had commanded. And then, just as he was slowing down, he heard his master's voice.
"What's the matter, boy? You're body giving out? Not so much of a man as you thought, uh? Maybe this'll help."
Darius howled as he felt the sting of a whip across his back. He glanced up and stopped dead still. He had never seen anything so erotic as this ... the black leatherman, looming over him at the edge of the trench, black leather vest over his gleaming torso, leather cap and dark glasses ... and he was holding a whip, a cat-o'-nine-tails with long strands of rawhide hanging down from the thick, braided handle.
"Did I say you could stop, boy?" Zack yelled. Suddenly he threw off his cap and glasses, shucked off his vest and stood stripped the waist, glaring down at him. He raised the whip and lashed it down across the slave's chest. But he knew exactly what he was doing and used careful restraint. He knew exactly how hard to make the blows ... enough to make the whip sting but not hard enough to really hurt his boy.
And so the whip fell on the black flesh, again and again. Darius was wild with excitement, fantasizing on the young black slave being whipped into submission by the magnificent slave master. He staggered backward against the wall of the trench, hypnotized by the sight of the whip, his body on fire. As he felt the lash across his shoulders, his arms, his chest, he was in an ecstasy of pain and pleasure. His legs trembled, he felt a warmth run up through his legs, into his groin. And then, as the whip fell once again across his chest he felt his cock explode in his shorts, felt the sticky wetness soaking them, felt the stream of cum flowing down his legs.
Zack saw him slumped against the wall of sand, his body limp now, gleaming with sweat, white juice running from under his shorts down his legs. Zack could hardly restrain himself from jumping down into the trench and taking his boy into his arms. But he knew that would defeat the purpose of this whole exercise. It would make Darius feel like a failed man, needing the comfort of another. So instead Zack said in a softer voice. "OK, boy. Now are you ready to get back to work?"
"Sir, yes sir!" shouted Darius. He picked up the spade and resumed digging. It was as if all his old energy returned, as if his body had been recharged, and he was more determined than ever to prove himself to this incredible man.
The sand became wetter and heavier but still Darius gritted his teeth and dug deeper. Zack watched motionless, entering into the fantasy of the young black slave putting all his muscular strength into the backbreaking labor. Working in a trench now almost five-feet deep Darius toiled endlessly, naked except for a leather slave collar and filthy, ragged shorts that clung to the mounds of his ass.
Occasionally Zack flicked the whip and watched the beautiful body flinch, the muscles flex. It was a magnificent sight ... not the image of a submissive boy, but a strong macho stud determined not to give up. Zack's cock was roaring hard and, when he saw the heaving body start to weaken he knew exactly how to revive him.
"Look up at me, boy." Darius raised his eyes and squinted into the sun. When he was able to focus on the looming figure he gasped. Zack had unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and was stroking the huge club he had pulled out. "OK, boy, let me see your dick."
Darius dropped the soaking shorts and stood naked, grasping his ten-inch cock in his fist. He didn't need to stroke it. He looked up at the black muscle god with the sun blazing behind him and in an involuntary act of worship fell to his knees at the bottom of the trench. Zack gazed down at him. "You worked well, man ... here's your reward." Darius saw the body tense, heard his master yell, and felt the blast of hot semen slam down onto his face.
His eyes were blinded by cum, but he opened his mouth and eagerly gulped down the juice that poured into it. He had drunk Zack's cum before, but this time he did not feel like a boy submitting to a master. It was like a man drinking the juice of another man. And it felt spectacular.
He knew his labors were over and suddenly the strength drained from his exhausted body. He fell backward and lay in the wet sand at the bottom of the hole he had dug, looking up at the muscle-god silhouetted against the blue sky. Zack was still holding his cock, dripping with cum ... and suddenly Darius knew what was coming next. In his exhilaration he forgot the word `sir'. He was no longer a boy, he was a proud man and his voice was deeper as he yelled triumphantly, "Yeah, man, let me feel it. Come on, stud. Piss on me, buddy ... man to man."
This time the stream of liquid that poured down onto him was warm, rancid, and he swallowed it ravenously. He had never before experienced the sensation of being an alpha man indulging in raw, rough sex with another dominant man. It was sensational.
Zack looked down at the body lying in the pit, muscles pumped, streaming with cum and piss. It was a spectacular sight, and this time he did leap down into the trench. He quickly kicked off his boots, dropped his jeans and fell naked onto Darius, rubbing his body over the gleaming black flesh that was slick with cum and piss. They wrapped their arms round each other and held each other tight for long minutes, each conscious of the fact that their relationship had soared to new heights they could never have imagined.
Finally Zack raised his head and looked at the beautiful face of this new man. "God, you were magnificent, Darius. I've never seen a guy work so hard, `til his muscles cracked, but without giving up. You are one hell of a macho stud and I'm proud to call you my buddy."
Darius smiled up at him weakly. "I felt it too, man. Thank you for giving me that." Then his voice changed, became somehow smaller and he said, "But, sir. I still want to be your boy. Can I still be your boy, sir?"
"You bet you're still my boy, Darius. The best, toughest young boy a man ever had. But there's one thing I want first, while I'm still looking at the hot man I watched working today." He unbuckled the collar and pulled it off Darius's neck. "You know, one of the most exciting things in the world is to fuck the ass of a really macho top man ... like the one I'm looking at now. So this time, for the first time, it's really gonna be man to man. And it will be an honor to fuck your ass, buddy."
And there, in the cool, wet sand at the bottom of the trench Zack fucked the beautiful body of the rugged young black stud ... buddy to buddy ... man to man."
When it was over Zack leaped up out of the trench and reached down. Darius grasped his hand firmly and felt the power of the man as he was pulled bodily from the hole. Zack grinned as he surveyed the boy's body and face, coated in sand, sweat, cum and piss. "You are one holy, fucking mess, man ... and you look spectacular. Get that hot body of yours in the ocean. Now!"
Together they sprinted down to the water and plunged into the surf, swimming together, roughhousing, wrestling, challenging, in a joyful celebration of shared manhood. They raced each other out of the waves and jogged a short way along the beach. But Zack sensed that, as Darius's euphoria faded so did his strength ... not surprising after all his backbreaking labors.
They dried off quickly in the hot afternoon sun and Zack threw his arm over his boy's shoulder and led him back up the beach and into the shack. In the cool dimness of the room Darius was finally overwhelmed with exhaustion and he fell naked onto the bed. Zack smiled down at him and lowered himself beside him. Darius rested his head on his master's chest and closed his eyes.
"That's it, bro," Zack said softly. "You've earned a rest. That was a real trial of strength I put you through out there, and you came through magnificently. After that there's absolutely no doubt ... you're a virile young stud, Darius ... a real man."
"Thank you, sir," Darius said drowsily. "Thank you for saying that. Thanks for everything, sir ..." His voice trailed off. He was already asleep in his master's arms.
That evening the two men were facing each other across a table in the small Mexican restaurant in Guadalupe. There was a new dynamic to their friendship as they chatted easily, two buddies, across steaming plates of fajitas and Dos Equis beers. Nevertheless, Zack knew that Darius's education was not over. So did Darius.
"Sir, when we were driving up here you said that a man had to be physically tough but also fair-minded and considerate to other people. I'm not sure what you mean."
"Well," said Zack. "Take Randy and Bob for example. They're both big, powerful guys, but let me ask you something. If I wasn't around and you had a problem, which if them would you go to for help?"
Darius didn't hesitate. "Oh, Bob, sir. He's real confident, strong... and gorgeous of course ... but he's always been kind to us boys and the twins worship him.'
"There you go, then. You've got two men there who are totally in love with each other. On the one hand Randy is rough, a street fighter with a fiery temper, always the boss. Bob is much more gentle, thoughtful, never gets angry. But does that make him any less of a man?
"Absolutely not, sir."
"OK, lesson over. And tomorrow you'll be able to see all that in practice when Bob and the twins come to the shack in the morning. That's when we'll get to the `gentle man' part of your education. In the meantime, we've got the night to get through."
Darius frowned. "Speaking of tonight, sir ... after what you said about me being a real man. Sir, you are still gonna want to fuck me, aren't you ... you know, fuck your boy?"
Zack smiled at him. "Hey, look at me, kid. Do you think I'm gonna be in bed with a stud like you without fucking you? Think I'm crazy? Like I said, the best feeling in the world is fucking a real tough man. So you're gonna get it, bro ... real good."
And so Darius was fucked by the man he idolized ... many times in fact throughout the night. Darius lost count of the number of times he shot his load as he felt the incessant rhythm of Zack's cock pounding in his ass. As he breathed in the musky smell of his powerful body, licked the sweat from his smooth black flesh, drank the juice of his cock, he reveled in the sensation of being overwhelmed by the glorious muscle-god.
In the darkness of the old shack they shut out the rest of the world. This small room was their world, where they joined together seamlessly ... no longer master to boy, owner to slave or even man to man. They were quite simply Zack and Darius, making love all night long.
About 30 miles north two young men had been getting an education of a completely different kind, though it also was designed to transform them from boy to man. Bob had looked forward to taking the twins with him to San Luis Obispo where he had a business meeting. Kyle and Kevin looked around town while Bob made short work of the meeting, just "stroking the client's ego" as he put it.
Bob's plans for the twins were similar to something Randy had asked him to do some time ago for his boy Pablo, who at that point was a tough young kid in ragged dungarees. Randy had asked Bob to show Pablo some of the finer things of life, and their trip to San Francisco had been a great success. Bob hoped to work a similar (but temporary) transformation on the twins, and on the drive up he had been careful to explain the deal gently to them.
"See, you guys are still a bit on the shy side out in public. Plus, you're always dressed in shorts, sneakers and T-shirts ... or no shirt at all. Don't get me wrong, that look is real sexy on you both ... turns me on a lot ... but just this once I want you to spruce up a bit and gain a bit more confidence."
So when Bob's meeting was over he took the twins on a shopping spree, buying them dress slacks, loafers, Polo shirts and blazers. Though the colors were different the styles were the same and, even all dressed up, they still looked identical. Bob checked them into the best hotel in town and the awestruck boys reveled in a luxury they had never experienced before.
Of course, they had Bob to show them the behavioral ropes, and later that evening they sat with him in the formal dining room, all three dressed up, the twins learning their table manners as they waded through a gourmet meal. Tentative at first the twins quickly gained their footing under Bob's reassuring guidance and were soon ordering from the menu according to the demands of their stomach rather than the dictates of etiquette.
When they finally went up to their room, feeling relaxed from all the food and wine, Bob threw himself on the bed, propped himself on his elbows and looked up at them. He was wearing the well-tailored suit and tie he had worn earlier for his meeting, and even formally dressed he looked stunning. The twins stood at the foot of the bed facing him, shoulder to shoulder.
"OK," Bob said. "Tomorrow morning we go to join Zack and Darius in their shack in the dunes. But tonight is just for us." He looked them up and down and grinned. "You know ... you two look real classy standing there, all dressed up in jacket and slacks ... almost as sexy as you do when you're naked. How do you feel?
The twins were having the best time and their eyes sparkled. Bob saw them exchange a glance that he was familiar with by now. It was the look they used to communicate with each other without using words, and Bob knew that something special usually followed. As usual the twins spoke in tandem, completing each other's sentences.
(Kyle): "Sir, we've had a great time today ..." (Kevin): "... and we'd like to thank you for everything you've done for us." (Kyle): "We love you sir, and ..." (Kevin): "...and we want to do something special for you."
They smiled down at him and he waited. Moving in unison they slowly raised their arms, grasped the lapels of their blazers and pushed them back off their shoulders. They let the jackets slide down behind them and, like models on a runway, caught them in their hands, then hung them carefully on hangers. Wearing pastel-colored Polo shirts tucked into beige slacks they stood before their master.
"You are such beautiful guys, you know that?" Bob smiled. "Stylish too." As the boys began to tug the shirts from their waistband Bob laughed. "What is this, `Synchronized Stripping?"
"It's all for you, sir," said Kevin, and they continued pulling their shirts free, then pulled them slowly up over their heads, then clean off. They folded them neatly over the backs of chairs. They stood side by side at the foot of the bed and clasped their hands lightly behind their backs.
"Oh, Jesus," Bob moaned, "that looks incredible." The two young men stood stripped to the waist, their lithe, tanned young torsos, perfectly proportioned, gleaming under the soft overhead lights. The narrow brown belts of their beige slacks accentuated the slimness of their waists. Then they did something that they knew always excited their master. Keeping their hands behind their backs they turned their heads toward each other and kissed each other lightly on the lips.
"Oh, man," said Bob, rubbing his hand against the bulge in his pants. He watched spellbound as they now turned their bodies inward, put their arms round each other and began kissing with increasing fervor, grinding their mouths against each other, probing inside with their tongues.
"Shit, guys, you're gonna make me cream in my pants."
When they heard this they stopped, turned to face him and beckoned him to get off the bed. He stood up and faced them. Kevin came behind him and gently removed Bob's jacket, while Kyle loosened his tie and pulled it off. Working together they slowly unbuttoned his shirt, rubbing their fingers lightly against his chest and his nipples as they opened it. They pulled it out of his pants and pushed it off his shoulders until it dropped onto the floor.
Bob remained transfixed, motionless except for his cock that was growing hard as a rock in his pants. He was being ceremonially stripped by these two beautiful boys. He felt two hands press on his chest and he allowed himself to be pushed backward onto the bed. The twins quickly removed his loafers and his socks, unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down and off completely. They did the same for his boxer shorts, and the muscular body was now totally naked.
Bob lay mesmerized on his back, in breathless suspense at what they would do next. He was amazed at what happened ... nothing! The boys left the room, went into the bathroom and closed the door behind them. Bob waited.
At last he heard a knock on the bathroom door. Bewildered he instinctively said, "Come in." His eyes widened as the two boys entered, now wearing nothing but white boxer briefs, with towels draped over their arms.
"Sir, one of them said. "You called down for a massage and as the management said you are a very special guest they sent two of us. We're twins, sir, and we work together."
Bob had never known the twins to concoct a fantasy before ... and this one was perfect. He had never felt more alive as the two handsome young brothers approached the bed to service his body. He had no trouble relaxing and surrendering himself completely to the fantasy. The boys knelt, one on each side of the bed, folded the towels and put them comfortably behind his head. He closed his eyes, expecting to feel their fingers massaging his body ... but he was wrong.
What he felt instead was their tongues. He looked down and saw two heads move over the sheen of sweat on his body, licking his sculpted chest, his ripped abs, his waist, then back upward until he felt their teeth biting his nipples. He gasped and desperately stopped himself from shooting his load then and there. He knew there was more to come.
His heart was beating fast. He had never experienced anything like this before ... two handsome young studs servicing him in the most sensuous way possible, their wet tongues running eagerly over his flesh, sending jolts of pleasure through every sinew of his body. The sensation in his nipples ceased as the two heads moved higher until ... until he felt two mouths cover his lips.
The boys were kissing him, each one pushing his tongue far into his mouth. They kissed his mouth, his throat, his cheeks, forehead, his eyes. His climax was close ... his cock was burning hot. But suddenly it all stopped.
His eyes were tight shut as he willed himself to calm down, to come back from the brink of orgasm. He desperately wanted to avoid shooting his load. Not yet. There was a long silence and he waited. It was as if the boys were giving him a time to calm down. But then he heard a sound ... and he felt it ... felt the tongues again.
This time they were on his cock, running up each side of it, licking his balls, and then the faces were buried in his pubic hair. Finally he knew that the climax was near, knew that he could not endure much more. The tongues moved up his cock again ... and he felt a mouth close over the swollen head. He looked down and saw Kevin lowering his face down onto his cock. He felt it pull up, then his cock once again plunged deep into the throat. In an instant the mouth pulled off and the other boy took his turn.
He was in a wild delirium of lust as the boys took turns pleasuring him. As one boy sucked his cock the other licked his balls. His cock had never felt anything like this as it was buried first into one young mouth, then the other. There was no holding back now. They were drawing his juice out of him, his body was on fire and he howled as his cock exploded. He didn't know which boy was drinking his semen, but instantly another mouth slid over him and he shot a second load.
Suddenly it all stopped and the boys stood up. They faced each other, their faces came together and they kissed ravenously, passing between them the warm, musky juice of their master. Bob was hypnotized by the sight of the two beautiful brothers kissing each other, their mouths lubricated by the semen that had just blasted from his cock. The sensation was overwhelming ... he had rarely seen anything more erotic. He held his cock in his fist and blasted another stream of cum high in the air and felt it splash back down on his face.
He went limp, his mind reeling, unsure for the moment of where he was or what had really happened. His eyes were tight shut, and when at last he opened them he saw the twins standing one on each side of the bed looking down at him. And once again they moved in unison as they reached into the fly of their briefs and pulled out rock hard cocks.
Bob gasped, knowing what was about to happen. The boys looked down at the magnificent body beneath them, muscles gleaming with sweat and semen. They stroked their cocks slowly, calmly, and Bob saw their beautiful young faces smiling at him. He was unaware that he had once again gripped his own cock in his fist. He watched in a trance as they boys worked their cocks, he saw their bodies stiffen and heard their voices.
"This is for you, sir," Kevin said. "It's all for you," said Kyle." And their cocks blasted streams of creamy white cum straight down onto their master's naked body. Bob felt the force of their eruption splashing onto his chest, stream after stream, and then saw another ribbon of juice arc high in the air, coming from his own cock. The air was full of the sounds of rasping breaths, full of the pungent odor of fresh semen.
Finally the twins spoke. "That was for you, sir," Kyle said, "to show you how much we love you." By that time Bob's face was wet with tears.
Some time went by before the twins led Bob into the shower and soaped and sponged his body. They left him to dry off, and when he finally walked back into the bedroom he gasped. The twins were lying on the bed naked, side by side, on their stomachs. His eyes were riveted on the two identical asses, the perfect white globes pointing upward, waiting for him.
It was a very long night.
In the shack in the dunes early next morning the sun was already shining through the slatted blinds, striping the muscular bodies of two beautiful black men, their limbs entwined as they lay together in the oblivion of total exhaustion. The room itself was a shrine to sex, still resonant with the vibrations, the essences, the juices of man-sex, the air heavy with the odors of sweat and semen.
And it was this assault on the senses that made Bob gasp as he walked in. When he and the twins arrived he had called out to Zack but they were in such a deep sleep they didn't hear or respond. So Bob simply pushed the door and walked in. "Jesus," he said, loud enough to wake them up.
He grinned broadly. "No need to guess what's been going on here. Want us to leave so you can finish up?"
Zack was the first to struggle back to consciousness. "Nah, we're done ... for now anyway. And the only place you're going, buddy, is into the water. We need a swim ... wash off last night's ... well, as you see," and he looked down sheepishly at his sweaty, cum-streaked body.
Darius was awake now and ran out to greet the twins, who were holding back uncertainly. Zack and Bob came out and Darius held out his hand to Bob with a broad smile. "Hello, sir. Welcome to paradise." He gripped Bob's hand in a firm, confident handshake. "After the swim the twins and I will rustle up some breakfast for us." Then to the twins, "Get your clothes off guys." He threw his arms round their shoulders and marched them down to the water's edge.
Bob looked at Zack and raised his eyebrows. "Hey, was that our young Darius? Almost didn't recognize him. He's gone real macho all of a sudden. What you been doing to him, stud?"
"Oh, teaching him a thing or two. I'll fill you in later, man. As a matter of fact, I was hoping he could spend some time alone with the twins while you're here. I want him to feel he is in charge, if you know what I mean. It might be the making of him."
"Great idea," Bob said a little too quickly, and Zack was surprised to see him blush. "Well ..." Bob said hesitantly ... "I do think it would do them all good, but ... there's something else too. I ... I remember the last time you and I were together here and ..." he blushed again ... "well ... I was kind of hoping to spend some time alone with you again, Zack."
"You read my mind, buddy," Zack grinned and threw his arm over Bob's shoulder. "It's been way too long since we got together. I'm tired of jerking off thinking about you. I want the real man."
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 105"