A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH -- PART 29 By Rob Williams

In this chapter Bob and Randy get "reacquainted" as Randy calls it -- in the scruffy motel room where it all started. What begins as a punishment session quickly evolves into something far deeper, more passionate. It calls into question the roles of master and slave. When it comes right down to it, who is the master and who is the slave?

Back at the house, the boys Darius and Pablo are taking care of the spectacular cop, Mark -- in their own special way.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know. Please send feedback and suggestions to me at rw6789@aol.com. It's always helpful to know what readers are thinking.

A Trial Of Strength -- Chapter 29

Randy's lover Bob has been willingly fucked by the beautiful cop Mark and has called him 'master.' In retaliation Randy had subjected the cop to a grueling, degrading humiliation, despite his huge admiration for the stunning Greek god. Now it's Bob's turn to feel Randy's anger.

The four men gazed in awe as Randy came into the garden dressed in full leather ... tight leather pants and boots, a studded harness crossing his massive chest, and a black leather vest over that. He was carrying a bulging kit bag ... and a long whip with leather braids.

"Here's what's gonna happen," he said. "You two," looking at Darius and Pablo, "are gonna take care of the police officer here. You will tend him, clean him, help him in whatever way he wants. Tonight you are his body slaves. You will do everything he orders you to ... everything. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the two young men said in unison.

Randy turned to Bob, standing naked before him, wearing just his boots. "As for you, man. It's time for us to get reacquainted. You got way out of line and we have to deal with that. We've a long night ahead of us, one you won't forget."

He came behind him and tied his wrists with a length of cord. Then he held up the whip, looped it around his slave's neck and pulled him away. Bob stumbled after him, naked, fearful, and the gate closed behind them. The truck roared into life and sped away.

On the road nothing was said for a while. The construction worker looked over at the naked muscle stud beside him, his hands tied behind him, whip looped round his neck. A slight smile crossed Randy's face. "We're going back to where it all began, man. You remember that night?"

"Yes, sir," Bob replied. His mind flew back to those extraordinary events when Randy had first broken his body and spirit. Seemed like a long time ago. He took a deep breath as the truck pulled into the shabby motel parking lot.

Back at the house Mark smiled at the two expectant young men. "Well, I guess you have your orders. You OK with that?"

Darius said, "It will be an honor, sir."

"Good. First, my body has taken quite a beating so you'll bathe it, soothe and massage it. After that you can make me dinner. I'm starved, so I want the best meal you've ever cooked. Think you can handle that?"

"Certainly, sir." The two young men grinned and their cocks stirred in anticipation of their evening as servants to this glorious man. So it wasn't long before Mark's battered and bruised body was luxuriating in a hot, soothing bath. He looked up at the two young men standing in attendance.

"I want you stripped to your shorts." Darius and Pablo obeyed instantly and were naked except for white boxers. Mark gazed in admiration at the two young bodies, Darius's black muscles gym-honed to perfection, Pablo's brown body perfectly sculpted by nature.

"OK. Make me feel good."

They knelt by the bath. Darius took a soapy sponge and gently washed the hard round pecs bulging up above the surface of the water. Pablo worked on the big, sinewy thighs, rubbing them, massaging them, running his hands all the way up to the cop's groin. Mark closed his eyes. He thought back at the punishment Randy had inflicted on him, and then gave himself up to the tender care of the young men, who both had rigid erections as they worked.

Meanwhile, the scene in the motel room was far from peaceful. The demon leather stud looked down at his victim. The bed was in the middle of the room. Right now it looked like a medieval torture rack. Stretched on it was the gleaming bodybuilder, his gorgeous naked muscles straining in bondage. His arms were being pulled straight back past his head, wrists tied by a single rope to a hook on the far wall. His legs too were stretched straight down, ankles secured by a rope to a hook in the opposite wall.

The body builder with the face and physique of Superman was being stretched on the rack. He looked up at his massive torturer, his arms folded over the leather harness stretched over his pecs. But Bob's look was not one of submission. It was defiance. He knew he had done nothing wrong. Randy had offered his ass to Mark, had allowed him to fuck it, and Bob had loved it. Now he resented his punishment.

Randy stood at the foot of the bed and looked down at his bound prisoner.

"First, I will tell you why you're here. Or rather, you will tell me. Who did your ass belong to?"

"You."

"And who was the last person to fuck it?"

"Mark."

"And what did you say to him."

"I told him it felt wonderful. I told him he owned my ass. I called him master. I said he could fuck me for ever."

"But you didn't mean that, did you? Now you regret it and you want my forgiveness."

Bob gave Randy a penetrating, defiant look. "That's not true. I did mean it. You gave my ass to Mark, and he fucked it. He was so beautiful, a Greek god, that I looked on him as my master. I still want him to fuck me. I regret nothing. "

"You are defying me."

"I am."

I see you no longer address me as 'sir'."

"I do not. You gave Mark permission to fuck me. You had no right punishing him, and no right to punish me."

Randy's face twisted in anger. "No right?! You're telling me my rights? I own you, you piece of shit. I can do whatever I want. I made that clear the night we first met. Guess you need a reminder."

He picked up the braided whip and brought it crashing down across Bob's massive chest, causing him to howl with pain. He lashed him several times and then stopped.

"Now you will address me as sir and beg my forgiveness."

Through rasping breaths Bob groaned, "I will not." His stretched muscles strained and flexed in his painful bondage, but he was determined to resist.

"We'll see about that," Randy growled. He leaned forward and inserted the whip handle in the ropes stretching from Bob's wrists to the wall. He turned the handle like a tourniquet, slowly making the ropes shorter and increasing the pressure on the tortured man. Bob grimaced as he felt his muscles being stretched tighter. The pain in his shoulder and arm muscles became more intense as he felt his whole, naked body being stretched to its limit. His breathing became ragged, his body streamed with sweat and the pain reached a crescendo until he mercifully lost consciousness.

Randy looked down at the beautiful man. It was as if Superman, in full flight, had been flipped on his back, stripped naked and lashed to the rack. The muscles bulged on the agonized body, the veins knotted under the skin. As an act of mercy Randy relieved the pressure slightly and Bob came to. He looked up defiantly at his tormentor and held his eyes with a scornful gaze.

"That will never make me submit," he groaned.

"Then try this. You're gonna beg to call me sir before I've finished with you."

Randy pulled from his pocket a set of tit clamps, heavy, serrated, linked by a chain. "Asshole," he said. "You won't survive this." And he quickly clamped the vicious teeth onto Bob's swollen nipples, causing a sharp intake of breath. Bob's head jerked backward in a spasm of pain, but he stifled his scream. He was not going to give Randy the satisfaction of hearing him scream again.

Randy took hold of the chain and jerked it upward, sending jolts of searing pain into Bob's nipples that radiated through his massive chest. His chiseled muscular frame spasmed and twisted in its bondage, stretched to its limit, with pain surging through it from his nipples. He was in agony, but he looked steadily at Randy, his eyes defying him to do his worst. Tears sprang to his eyes, partly from the pain, partly from sadness that his lover was hurting him so badly.

Randy looked down into those brown eyes, the eyes that he had loved more than he had loved anything. Behind the intense pain he glimpsed the tenderness that Bob brought to him, the gentleness that was the essence of this beautiful man. And he, Randy, was torturing him. "What the hell am I doing?" he thought. With a muffled sob, he unclipped the clamps, causing a final sharp surge of pain.

"Jesus, man. What does it take to make you submit?"

Bob gazed up at him with a look of infinite tenderness. "I need to know you still love me, man."

For a second Randy stopped breathing. 'Still loved him?' Still loved him!? This man he had given his soul to, would give his life for? He looked into the eyes of this muscle god, stretched on the rack, and suddenly felt lost. Randy felt unworthy of him. He had crudely used his strength to force Bob to submit, while all the time the beautiful, gentle man just wanted to be his lover. Suddenly the truth crashed in on Randy. It was he, Randy, who was the slave. He would always be the slave of this incredible man.

He had to show him, prove to him. He loosened the rope a little and knelt over his captive. He put his hands on the bed so his face was a few feet from Bob's and fixed his eyes with a penetrating gaze. That was always how they merged together, became one being.

Bob looked up at the pale blue eyes and it was as if they were piercing his soul. He saw their whole world in those eyes. He was transported back to the first days in this same motel room where he had given himself to a man for the first time, had accepted Randy as his master. He saw the same eyes that had slowly melted from anger to love.

He saw the man he had wrestled in the mud and rain in the forest and surrendered his ass to. He saw the man who had deserted him in anger and then been drawn back by the spell of their intense love. This was the man who had once bound and savagely punished him, and had then made tender love to him. Randy was everything to him, and he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he could not live without him.

Just as Randy's image was reflected in Bob's eyes, so Bob's thoughts were reflected in Randy's mind. They saw the same images from their past, matched as always in thought, feelings, body and soul. Randy pulled back up onto his knees without breaking his intense gaze. He looked down at the magnificent body, stretched and gleaming on the rack, and the sculpted features of the face gazing up at him. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

The pain in Bob's body slowly dissolved as he was hypnotized by the sinewy, macho leather man towering over him. The leather harness stretched tight over his bulging pecs, the leather pants against Bob's thighs, and above all the handsome, stubbled, sculpted demon face. Bob was all sensation now, no thought, as he watched Randy reach down to unzip his pants, pull out his huge, rigid cock and begin to stroke it slowly.

The penetrating look that passed between them needed no words or gestures. A slight smile spread over Randy's face as he looked down at the glorious muscle man bound on the rack. He knew what would come next. He watched as the body tensed, started to shudder, then strained and flexed against its bondage. The eyes opened in a wide frenzy.

His master's gaze was too much for Bob. He knew now beyond any doubt that Randy loved him. It was the eyes, not the pain, that made him feel the heat rising through his body. All images of the past were finally culminating in the crescendo of this moment. Now, at last, he had to give in. He screamed,

"I submit, sir. I love you sir. I submit ...

And his cock erupted in a huge fountain of sperm that shot high in the air and splashed back onto his heaving body.

Randy was beyond thought. He was drowning in the glorious image of the man he worshipped, writhing in spontaneous orgasm. He looked down and saw, as if it belonged to someone else, his own cock streaming with cum over the body of the bound man that he loved. The image of Superman, the gleaming muscles still stretched on the rack, was now splashed with pools of creamy white liquid, the body was shuddering and the man was weeping.

Randy fell forward and put his arms around his lover. He squeezed him in a bear hug, not daring to let go, and whispered in Bob's ear. "I love you man. Never, ever believe otherwise. You don't have to submit. It's I who submit. I'm the slave. You're my master and always will be."

It was a long time before the bodies separated. Nothing more had to be said. They sat together in silence, shyly, almost embarrassed at the memory of what they had done together. Bob's gaze travelled over the floor and settled on the bulging kit bag that Randy had brought. Randy followed his gaze and smiled.

"I brought it for you. Go take a look."

Bob stood up, picked up the bag and emptied it onto the floor. It was clothes.

"Randy lay back on the bed, hands behind his head. "You know," he smiled. "Many's the time I've got a hard-on watching you strip. This time I'm going to watch you get dressed. Could be an even bigger turn on. Come on ... make my dick hard"

Bob picked up the clothes and started to dress.

"Jesus Christ, you are too fucking much. Look at you. Look at yourself in the mirror."

Fully clothed Bob turned to the mirror. His cock instantly stiffened in his pants. He was in full leather ... black leather chaps over his jeans and heavy black boots. Stretched tightly over his torso was a black leather shirt, buttoned almost to the top, short sleeves staining over his bulging biceps. His sculpted chest was clearly outlined under the thin leather of the shirt.

He smiled as the leather-man image in the mirror was joined by another leather stud. Randy stood beside him, threw his arm over his shoulder, and looked into the mirror. "They belong together, don't you think?"

"They look incredible," Bob breathed. "Look at those leather studs, man. They make my dick hard."

"Me too." Randy squeezed his arm round Bob's neck until he was in a playful head lock. He rubbed Bob's head with his knuckles.

Bob grinned. "Hey, motherfucker. That hurts. Think you're hot stuff don't you?"

Bob put his arms round Randy's waist, lifted him up, then slammed his butt down on his knee in an atomic drop move. Randy howled and crumpled to the floor. He looked up and grinned at Bob. "Not bad, asshole."

"That'll teach you to play rough," said Bob and he was on top of him in an instant. The two muscular leather men rolled around on the floor, arms flexed around each other struggling to get the upper hand. Randy managed to twist his legs up and clamp them round Bob's neck in a tight head scissors. Bob's biceps bulged as he strained at the legs to release him. He felt and smelled the leather that was gripping his neck as he pushed frantically.

Randy laughed. "You never learn do you, asshole. You never beat me."

"Oh no?" Bob brought his elbow smashing down on Randy's abs. He howled in pain and released his legs from Bob's neck. In an instant Bob had twisted round and clamped Randy's waist and locked his feet in a vicious body scissors. "Now who's on top, shitface? Try getting out of that. What was it you said about me being master?"

Randy's whole body strained and his muscles bulged under his harness as he pushed down on the leather chaps covering Bob's legs. He twisted his body furiously from side to side and finally released himself. The two leather men were on their knees facing each other. Their hands clamped round the other's neck in a wrestler's hold and they were soon rolling on the floor again.

The sight was incredible, two bodybuilders in full leather grinding their bodies together. They heard the creaking sound as leather rubbed against leather. They smelled the distinctive leather smell as shirt, harness, chaps were in turn pressed into their face. The muscles flexed and strained as the tense, leather-clad bodies churned over the floor.

They were panting and yelling until their shouts finally turned to laughter. They pulled apart and lay back on the floor, bodies heaving in uncontrollable laughter. Finally, exhausted, they turned to face each other. Randy smiled.

"God I love you, man. I've been such a damn fool. Forgive me."

"Only if you promise me this," Bob said. "No matter what we do or say, and no matter who we do it with, we will always, forever love each other. I couldn't live without you, man."

"It's a deal."

They lay still for a while, and then Randy felt something under his hand on the floor.

"Well, will you look at this? When Mark came here to find me he stripped off his shirt, and he left here shirtless. What d'ya know? Here it is," and he held up the uniform shirt. "Stand up."

He made Bob take off his leather shirt and put on Mark's. They both turned to stare in the mirror.

"Jesus," Randy said. "Looks even better on you than it does on Mark, if that's possible." Randy was standing just behind Bob and he put his arms around him and stroked the shirt, feeling underneath the shape of the hard, rounded pecs, wide lats and sinewy biceps. "God, you're incredible. I have another roaring hard-on."

"Me too," breathed Bob. He touched the nameplate clipped to the shirt. "M. Matsen. Hmm ... Looks stunning doesn't he?"

Randy instantly tuned in to his train of thought. "He's a beautiful man ... Mark Matsen, police officer. And the two big leather studs are getting off looking at him."

The leathermen were no longer looking at their own stunning images in the mirror. They were seeing the beautiful cop who had become part of their lives. They were mesmerized as the beautiful dark-haired Superman morphed into the gorgeous blond cop.

Randy breathed, "What do you see, buddy?"

Bob sighed. "He is so fucking gorgeous. Look at that body straining under the shirt. And that face ... the cheek bones, the square jaw, the gray eyes, and the tousled blond hair. He's a fucking knockout. No wonder we both love him."

"Think he can make us cum?" Randy asked.

"Mark can do anything."

Still reaching round Bob's chest Randy undid three buttons of the shirt and pulled it open, exposing the bulging pecs. He ran the back of his hands over the swelling nipples, making Bob groan in ecstasy. Randy came and stood next to the man in the cop shirt. He looked again at the shiny metal badge.

"M. Matsen. Make me cum, man. Let me look at you and shoot my load."

"Make us both cum, officer. Like you did in the park when I first met you."

Simultaneously the men reached down and across, undoing the other man's fly and pulling out the stiff cock. The curled their hand around the other's cock and began to stroke. Bob said, "Talk to him, man."

In a kind of trance now Randy spoke to Mark through Bob's image. "You are such a fucking stud. In that uniform you always give me an instant erection. I loved thrashing you, fucking you. I want to look at you, hear you, feel you, fuck you. Man, the three of us are gonna be great together. What d'ya think, Mark? You ready to cum?"

"Looking at you, of course I am. Come on buddy. Let's do it for Mark. Make us cum, officer."

And they did. They stroked each other until each rigid shaft shot a hot stream of semen straight at their image of Mark in the mirror. It hit hard and streamed down the reflection of the man in the cop shirt. Their eyes stayed riveted on the sight. They almost hallucinated as they saw two muscular leather studs and the fantasy image of the bodybuilder cop. The three of them were united. They would be always.

Later they were lying together on the bed. Bob had changed shirts and was again wearing the tight leather shirt, tucked into his chaps. They were both in full leather, boots and all.

Randy sighed. "That fantasy was incredible. Nobody could do it like you, buddy. And when we get back home in the morning I have plans to make it real."

Bob smiled. "I'm counting on it ... sir."

They were so exhausted they didn't undress. Still in full leather they fell asleep in each other's arms, two beautiful bodybuilders in a passionate, tight embrace, the feel and smell of leather filling their dreams.

Just as they were drifting into sleep Bob murmured to Randy, "I wonder how Mark's doing at the house? Hope Darius and Pablo are taking care of him..."

They were indeed, thrilled to be playing the role of body slaves to the beautiful cop. They had soothed and massaged his bruised muscles in the bath and then knelt at his feet in the shower, soaping and caressing him as hot water streamed over the magnificent body. Pablo's fingers lightly caressed the ravaged ass. When he stepped out of the shower the eager young hands wrapped him in big towels until he stood in the bedroom dry ... and naked.

"In the top drawer," Mark said. "Hand me shorts and a T-shirt." They obeyed, then watched in silent admiration as the big cop pulled on white boxers and a white V-neck T-shirt that clung to the etched muscles of his torso. He looked, as always, stunningly handsome.

"Now, I'm gonna relax here for a bit while you cook dinner." He smiled. "Dinner for three ... and make it a good one. You can cook, I hope."

"Yes sir," Darius said. "I'm the chef, and I'm teaching Pablo." They ran upstairs to the kitchen and Mark smiled to himself, moved by their youthful enthusiasm.

He lay on his back, hands behind his head and his mind began to wander over the extraordinary events of the day, a day when he had given himself totally to another man, groveled at the feet of his master in abject, naked submission. His thoughts drifted to the motel where he knew that Randy and Bob were becoming reunited. He found himself longing for their return. He closed his eyes. In the twilight between sleep and waking he heard voices drifting from the kitchen upstairs.

"Well of course you chop it, asshole," Darius was saying. "You think you just throw it in the pot whole?"

"Like this?"

"No, finer than that. Jeez you have a lot to learn. You shouldn't actually taste it, just get the flavor of it. We gotta make this good. It's for the officer. It's gotta be perfect."

Mark smiled as he imagined the scene upstairs, the beautiful black man shoulder to shoulder with the exotic younger guy, taking charge, teaching him. There was silence for a while, then Pablo came down the stairs. He was wearing blue surfer shorts and a tan T-shirt that perfectly set off his smooth, coffee colored skin. Mark was again taken aback by his beauty. Pablo stood at attention by the bed, a napkin folded over his arm.

"Would you care for a drink before dinner, sir?" he asked rather formally.

"Wow, this restaurant gives great service. The waiters are cute, too. Yeah, bring me a beer."

And so the evening progressed. The meal was terrific and, as they ate, the young guys listened wide eyed as Mark told them stories of his life as a cop. They were thrilled to be with this gorgeous man smiling at them as he chatted. The two young men were dressed in identical surfer shorts and T-shirts and when dinner was over Mark sat back and looked them over.

"You two even dress alike. You look like a team."

"We like to think so, sir," said Darius.

"You're always together?"

"Most of the time, sir."

Mark hesitated, then gave Pablo a quizzical look. "I wasn't gonna bring it up but ... what Randy made you do to me earlier ... Is that really the first time you ever ... fucked a guy's ass?"

"Yes, sir," Pablo said.

"You mean, you and Darius ... ?

"He always fucks me, sir."

"You never wanted to ..."

"I do now sir, but ..."

"And you, Darius. Do you want it?"

"Of course I do, but ..."

"That's a lot of 'buts' in there. My guess is you're nervous, it being the first time and all. What if somebody ordered you to do it?"

Darius's eyes shone. "You mean you, sir?"

Mark grinned at them. "Well, Randy did say you were to do whatever I told you to."

"Yes, sir," they said together eagerly.

"Get downstairs to the bedroom."

In the mirrored basement bedroom Mark sat back in the big armchair, his hand resting lightly on his boxers. The two young men stood at attention before him, identical in their shorts and T-shirts. Mark smiled.

"Did Bob ever tell you what I made him do when I first met him, when I pulled him over for doing an illegal U-turn?"

"No sir."

"I made him strip. He looked so fucking gorgeous I came in my shorts. I really get off looking at beautiful men, and you two are a big turn-on. You ready?"

"Anything you say sir," said Pablo.

"I want it slow, and I want you to get naked."

The two young men felt their cock jump in the shorts at the thought of taking their clothes off for the beautiful cop. They kicked off their sneakers and slowly, in unison, pulled their T-shirts up and over their heads, throwing them to the floor.

"Stop right there," Mark said, gazing at the two shirtless young men, one body sculpted by hours at the gym, the other naturally built, no body fat, perfectly proportioned. The cop's hand moved slowly and he grabbed the bulge in his shorts. He rubbed his palm against the smooth cotton fabric and moaned as he looked at the beautiful bodies before him."

"Now the shorts," he said softly.

Slowly, Darius and Pablo began to unlace the cord on the fly of their surfer pants, pulling the string out bit by bit until the waist was loose and the shorts dropped to the floor. They were naked underneath and their cocks shot out stiff as rods before them.

Mark stroked harder at the bulge under his shorts as he gazed in wonder at the naked young men awaiting his orders. "Darius. On your back on the bed." Darius obeyed.

"Pablo, on your knees between his legs."

"Yes, sir," Pablo said, his whole body quivering with excitement and expectation.

Mark got up and stood at the head of the bed behind Darius. He reached forward, grabbed the black man's ankles and pulled the legs back, up high. He looked at Pablo.

"You see that ass, Pablo?"

Pablo's throat was dry and he swallowed hard."

"Yes, sir," he croaked.

"It's all yours, kid. Don't look at me. Look at your buddy's face. And fuck his ass."

Pablo took a deep breath and dropped his eyes from Mark's face to Darius's. The green eyes that stared back at him with a slight smile pleaded with him to enter his ass. Trembling, Pablo brought his stiff dick against Darius's ass and he instantly felt a tingling in his cock's head as it rested against the hole.

Very gently he pushed against the moist hole and was surprised at how easily it moved forward and into the warm velvet lining of the ass. His cock shuddered and a brand new sensation shot through him, radiating from his dick throughout his body. He looked up in wide-eyed astonishment at Mark.

"That's it, kiddo," Mark said softly. "Now, make love to him."

Pablo looked back at Darius and saw the ecstasy in his face. Their eyes locked. Darius felt that he was being penetrated twice ... by the intense eyes and the hot dick in his ass. Pablo began to move his cock back and forth, each stroke plunging deeper into the black man's gut. Both men held their breath, hypnotized by the pulsing rhythm uniting them.

"Fuck me, dude," Darius breathed. "Yeah, fuck that black ass. It's all yours, man. Push your cock deep inside me. Jesus, that feels incredible."

"I love you, Darius," was all that Pablo could reply. He was quivering with the intense sensation that radiated from his cock. His body spasms became stronger as he pistoned in and out of his lover's ass. He could not hold back any more.

"I'm going to shoot, man. I'm gonna cum in your ass."

His muscles tensed, he flexed his whole body as his rigid shaft began to stream inside the warm, velvet hole. Darius threw his head back and howled as his own orgasm erupted. His dick pointed straight up and shot a huge spout of cum high in the air. It flew back and splashed the T-shirt of the cop standing behind him, riveted by the spectacle.

When the air finally became still all three men gazed in wonder at each other. Pablo had fucked his lover's ass for the first time while the cop watched. And it opened whole new vistas for the future.

"Now you've gotta take care of me," Mark said. "On your knees."

The two young men knelt close together in front of him and Mark looked down at their eager faces.

"Think you can make me cum. Think you can handle my load?"

"Yes, sir," they almost shouted in unison.

They gasped as Mark pulled his cum-soaked T-shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. They gazed up in awe at the incredible, sculpted, naked torso. They gasped again as he dropped his shorts and his rigid shaft sprang free.

"You first," Mark said to Darius, who opened his mouth wide. The huge dick slid inside and nearly choked him as it filed his mouth and went halfway down his throat. He pounded his cock hard, making tears flow down Darius's cheeks.

Mark saw Pablo's pleading gaze as the faces pressed together, cheek to cheek. The cop pulled his dick out and plunged it down the throat of the younger man, who choked at first but then savored the musky taste of the cop's penis as it pounded his throat. Both men looked up at the muscular cop as he tossed his head wildly in the elation of feeling his dick burning in the young mouth.

Mark grabbed the back of each head, one in each hand as he alternated fucking their faces, first one mouth, then the other. The guys were greedy for the stunning cop's hot dick and drooled as they waited their turn.

Finally Mark's chiseled torso shook as he felt his climax approach. He looked down at both the eager young faces, tears streaming down their cheeks. He was in Darius's mouth now and the heat was too much. His hard body flexed as his cock bulged and finally erupted in the mouth, shooting a stream of hot semen deep into the black man's throat.

Quickly he pulled out, plunged his cock into Pablo's mouth, and shot another torrent of cum into the eager mouth. Both young men gulped hard, frantically swallowing the semen of the gorgeous man they both worshipped. When the gushing stopped and Mark pulled out, Darius and Pablo licked hungrily at the cop's shaft as it dribbled the remains of his cum on their faces. He looked down and smiled at the frenzied faces sucking in the last drops of the juice oozing from his body.

Their tongues went down further to lick fervently on his balls and then they buried their faces in the blond tangle of his pubic hair, breathing in the moist, musky smell of the most private part of this glorious man's body.

"OK, guys. Thanks. You can get up now."

They stood up and reluctantly picked up their clothes. They started to pull on their shorts as Mark watched. He cleared his throat.

"Er ... I can understand you wanting to get back to your own room and be together," Mark said. "It's just that ..."

"Yes, sir?" The men paused.

"...well, it's just that after everything that happened today I could sure use some company tonight. Don't really feel like sleeping alone."

Pablo's face broke into a huge grin. "We were kind of hoping you'd say that, sir."

Mark relaxed. "Well, were already naked. So let's just hit the sack."

He fell on the bed and the two guys joined him, one on each side. They were all exhausted and were soon drifting off to sleep. Mark was dimly aware that Darius and Pablo had each placed a hand on his chest. He felt their fingers entwine as he fell asleep.

The voice boomed, "Anyone home?"

It was morning. Darius and Pablo woke instantly, jumped out of bed and pulled on their shorts.

"They're back! Let's go see, "said Pablo.

"Breakfast for five I guess," said Darius, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

As they disappeared upstairs Mark too pulled on his shorts. He had been longing for the return of Randy and Bob, but now that the moment had come he hesitated. He was unsure what to expect from them ... what was in store for him. Slowly he climbed the stairs.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 30"