Chapter 616 – ""RANDY PROVES HE'S KING OF THE GYPSIES"
Bob becomes the lawyer of sexy movie star Grady and they seal the deal with wild hardcore sex. But this makes Bob neglect his lover, the fierce gypsy Randy, who reasserts his sexual dominance. Then Randy deals with Grady. Lying naked on the grass the muscle-jock gazes up at the swarthy bare-chested construction boss, a toolbelt slung low on his hips. "What you gonna do to me, man?" ___________________________________________________________________
IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Action movie-star Grady had returned from a grueling week's filming on location and told his lover Mario he was quitting the movie business – he would not star in the next in a series of lifeguard movies that was currently in contract negotiations.
He explained to his lover, "The thing that really depresses me, Mario, is all the negotiations over my new contract – the pay, the conditions, the demands. I have to keep going to meetings with my lawyer and I don't understand shit what he's saying. My agent is fine, she's been with me right from the start, but at this level it's the lawyers who do all the talking and she's a bit out of her depth.
"My lawyer's a good guy, but he's old, running out of steam, and wants to retire. Also, he doesn't really understand me, or know about my lifestyle, so I have to tiptoe around a lot of stuff. These endless negotiations, they drive me crazy and I feel so alone."
Mario looked thoughtful, then said, "I think I might have a solution, Grady. What about Bob?" Mario was referring to the handsome co-leader of the tribe, and a light went on in Grady's eyes.
"Bob? As my lawyer? Mario, you're not just a pretty face, you're a genius. He would be perfect. He's already our financial adviser, files our taxes and all, so he knows all about our money and our, er, our lifestyle, everything. Plus he's a brilliant lawyer, he'd be perfect."
But when they approached Bob by phone he hesitated. They met the next day and he explained, "I was flattered that you would consider me for this important job. I've given it a lot of thought, my main concern being whether I could devote to it all the time and attention you deserve.
"One thing in our favor is that I am already your financial adviser, so I know all the details of your income, your lifestyle and your needs. I have worked in wealth management for years, cutting deals for my clients, many of them in the movie business – producers, directors, performers – so I know the territory, the wrinkles and the tricks real well. It's a tough business and some meetings with the studio bosses can get pretty contentious.
"However, as it happens, two of my private clients died recently and I've already wrapped up their affairs. So I am tempted by the prospect of working on your behalf, Grady. Tangling with those pushy execs is a challenge I would welcome. You are in a powerful position, Grady, as one of the studio's biggest stars, so we hold all the cards. And you don't come cheap."
Grady flashed another smile. "So all that means it's a yes?"
"Yes, Grady, it's a yes."
There was one more topic, decidedly unprofessional, that Grady wanted to raise. The ever-horny Grady wanted to seal the deal not with a handshake but with sex. Bob naturally protested at first as the idea went blatantly against his professional ethics. "You just hired me to be your attorney, not your fuck-buddy."
But Bob was persuaded by Mario's pleas on Grady's behalf – and by the sight of the naked muscle-jock Grady lying on the bed. And the deal was sealed with a wild scene of hardcore domination sex and fantasy that left the handsome muscle-jock degraded and begging for more from his powerful, sexy new lawyer. As he lay back exhausted, Grady said, "Un-fucking-believable, Bob, just what I needed."
"Yeah, well a good attorney always understands his client's needs."
"Hey," Grady grinned roguishly, "is this how our attorney/client partnership's gonna be?"
Bob chuckled, "A modified version, maybe ... once in a while, not all the time. I hope we can separate business from pleasure, buddy" – if you can call that rough-stuff pleasure."
"Sure I can, dude. Brings me down to size after all that hero-worship I get from fans. I'm thrilled you're my new attorney, Bob. Makes everything come right."
========= CHAPTER 616 =========
<><> BOB PICKS BRANDON'S BRAIN <><>
Bob's mind was working overtime as he left the Grady House after his meeting with Grady and Mario – a meeting that began with business and ended with sex.
Bob was always uncomfortable when mixing business with sex, as it went against his strict attorney ethics code. However, as he left the house he was preoccupied not with the sex but the business he had conducted. After much thought and discussion he had agreed to become Grady's attorney of record in contract negations with Grady's studio on the new movie he was about to embark on.
After a series of blockbuster action movies, including the Tarzan franchise and now the Hunter series, starring Grady as a lifeguard captain, Grady had become one of the studio's biggest stars, with income to match.
But Bob knew that at this level the stakes were high and negotiations could be complex and even contentious, requiring much time and energy on his part. His workload was already intense, running the business side of the construction company, and provided legal services to private clients, including many of the guys in the tribe.
So he had hesitated before accepting the post as Grady's attorney, not sure if he would be able to devote to it the effort it would require. And even now he was still not sure.
When he got back to the tribe's compound he decided to meet with Brandon, the young office manager for the construction company. Refusing to be confined by his life in a wheelchair, Brandon prided himself on being as active as everyone else, with a business expertise he had learned from Bob – an expertise that Bob needed to consult now.
When he went into the office he was greeted enthusiastically by Brandon and his staff – the young assistants Vic and Noah, and the young computer expert Ryan.
"How did your meeting go, sir?" Brandon asked.
"Tell you the truth, Brandon, I'm not sure. All I can tell you is that you are looking at Grady's new personal lawyer."
"Congratulations, sir, I knew that's how it would work out. And if you don't mind my saying so, Grady couldn't have made a better choice."
"Thanks Brandon – I think," Bob smiled. "Truth is ... I'd like to pick your brains, kiddo, but I don't want to interrupt you guys' work here."
"No problem, sir, I can come across to your house for a while. You guys can manage here while I'm gone, can't you?"
"Sure we can," the boys chorused.
So with a few parting instructions, Brandon wheeled himself with Bob across to the so-called `Boss House' shared by Bob and Randy, the co-leaders of the tribe. They sat on the couch in Bob's office and talked over coffee.
"So here's the deal, Brandon. The reason I said I was not sure, is that being Grady's attorney would add a lot to my workload. As well as the construction company, there's my private clients' investments and taxes, and now representing Grady at the studio. I may have bitten off more than I can chew."
Brandon grinned, "Sir, I think you're great at chewing on a lot of things at once ... and that was not a sexual reference."
"Oh no?" Bob laughed. "Try telling that to Randy – the number of times he's growled, `chew on this, stud'."
"But seriously, sir, I do have one suggestion. You should have Ryan create separate computer programs for each of the various work categories."
"Yes, I already thought of that. He has a knack of making everything much clearer. But then, on a continuing basis, what I need is a secretary, or call it an assistant, someone who can organize my schedule, screen the phone calls, take care of the office when I'm not here. This office has plenty of room for a second desk."
"Great idea, sir."
"Question is who? I'd probably have to hire someone from outside – someone who's got a good business sense, can stay calm under pressure, and someone who understands our lifestyle. And above all, someone I can trust to be discreet, especially with Grady's affairs ... Mario would make sure of that. Someone like that would be hard to find."
"Well, sir, there is one obvious choice."
"Who?"
"Well, Ryan himself."
"Ryan? But he's your staff, Brandon. I couldn't steal him away from you, how would you manage?"
"Sir, for quite a few weeks Ryan has hardly been in the office – he's been setting up Pablo's vehicle parts warehouse with Tyler. He tells me that project is almost completed and he's ready to hand it all over to Tyler. So you see? If you just transfer Ryan from Pablo's warehouse to your office, it would make no difference to the business office."
"Hmm, there's a thought. He certainly already has the qualifications I listed. And if he needed to take off for half a day to help Tyler or you guys, I could handle that. Brandon, my boy, I've said it before – you're a genius." Bob frowned. "Yeah, but would Ryan go for it, being my secretary/assistant?"
Brandon gave Bob a mocking smile. "Are you asking that seriously, sir? Work closely with you all day? Any boy would jump at the chance. They're all in love with you."
Bob chuckled. "I think you're exaggerating, Brandon. But seriously, I think my next step is to run it by Darius. Ryan is his boy, so it's the correct protocol, and I'd hate to make an offer to Ryan that would displease, Darius. So don't mention a word to Ryan yet."
"Seems you have it all planned out, sir. So if you don't need to pick my brains anymore I should get back to the office."
Bob smiled affectionately. "Brandon, you know my first choice for an assistant would be you. But that would be a step down for you, and with your talent you are far more valuable to me and the company in the pivotal post of business office manager. Anyway, I'm in your office so often you're probably tired of my ugly mug."
"Sir, that last sentence is so inaccurate on so many levels I'll leave it on the scrapheap where it belongs."
Bob laughed, leaned over on the couch and hugged him. "I love you Brandon. And I'm here if you ever get tired of Ranger Pete."
"Another comment for the scrapheap, sir. I gotta go." He hauled himself off the couch and into his wheelchair, and rolled away, pausing only to give a backward wave.
<><> RYANS NEW JOB <><>
Bob's chance to talk to Darius came sooner than he expected when Darius came in with a folder of documents. "Hi there, sir, I know you wanted these production stats from my site pronto so I brought them over myself."
"Thank you, Darius," Bob smiled, "but I've told you before, you don't have to call me sir. You're a site manager now, one of the big boys."
"I know, but I've been calling you sir from the earliest days, before there even was a tribe, and I can't break the habit. It feels right, same as I call Randy sir, and Zack of course. So how was your meeting with Grady? Word on the grapevine is that you gave him quite a workout."
"I guess I should have known," Bob chuckled. "That grapevine is super efficient and in this case pretty accurate. I haven't spoken to you one-on-one since your fishing trip to the lake. You have fun?"
"More than fun, sir. You know how romantic that lake is. Lying in a boat with Ryan, wow, I fell in love with him all over again."
"Delighted to hear it, after all those stupid rows with Zack. But as you're here, Darius, there was something important I wanted to discuss with you, something concerning Ryan."
"Nothing wrong is there, sir?" Darius said, clenching his fists in full protective mode.
"No, no," Bob smiled reassuringly, "quite the contrary actually. It began with my visit to Grady."
Bob briefly went over the whole story of becoming Grady's attorney, the resulting workload and his upcoming need for a secretary/assistant, someone with specific qualifications. "Such a person would be hard to find, and it was Brandon who made the suggestion that now seems obvious. I would like to offer the job to your boy Ryan. He fits the bill perfectly."
Darius's green eyes sparkled. "Really, sir?"
"I haven't mentioned it to him yet, I needed your approval first as he's your boy. I would hate to offer him something like this and have you nix it."
"Bob, I would never nix something that would make Ryan happy. And I think I can safely say that this would make him ecstatic. Thank you, thank you. Could we call him up here right now and break the news?"
"No time like the present, I guess." Bob punched a number on his phone. "Hey, Brandon – regarding what he talked about earlier. I'm with Darius now, so could you ask Ryan to come here and see us? Don't mention what's it's about."
A few minutes later Ryan came in and cast a worried glance at Bob and Darius. "You wanted to see me, sir? Nothing wrong is there?"
Bob smiled warmly. "Not at all, Ryan. But I do have a serious question for you." Bob gave him roughly the same explanation he had just given to Darius. "With so many clients I tend to get snowed under, so I need you to create tech programs for the different categories of work to help me keep them sorted out."
"No problem there, sir. Is that all you wanted?"
"Er, no, Ryan. You see, even after that's all set up I'll still have too much work to handle on my own, so I'll need a fulltime personal secretary/assistant."
"Of course, sir, I understand. I know lots of guys who would leap at a chance like that. Do you want me to keep my eyes open for candidates?"
"Um, I was hoping that would not be necessary, Ryan. That is, if you would accept the position. I would like you to be my assistant, Ryan. I would bring a desk in here for you and we'll work together."
Ryan's fine Thai features winced in a frown as he tried to take it in, and he looked at Darius for support. "You ... you mean me, sir?"
Darius chuckled. "He means you, kiddo. A perfect choice, I'd say, and I'd be proud for my boy to have that job."
That clinched it, and Ryan smiled at Bob. "Thank you very much, sir. I'd be honored to be your assistant, if you think I can handle it."
"Wonderful," Bob beamed, "and I'm positive you can handle it. You already know everything about our construction company – hell, you created all its computer systems.
"But the job comes with some conditions – the first being discretion. You'll get to learn a lot of private, confidential things about clients and you must not discuss them outside this office – except for Darius, of course, I know you discuss everything with him. But he is very tight-lipped." "Not when he kisses me, sir," Ryan grinned at Darius.
"I'm sure not," Bob grinned. "I absolutely trust you but, keeping it businesslike I would have you sign an NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement.
"Representing Grady brings its own challenges as we will be drawn into the edges of his intense celebrity. You know how the tabloids can be with their rumors – `Grady gives the finger to the studio ... won't star in next movie' ... contract talks break down'. That's the kind of nonsense – and the press will call us for comments as his legal representative.
"You'll have to field those calls – politely decline to comment and let me do the talking. But we'll go over all that later. In the meantime, do you have any questions for me?"
Ryan's brow furrowed. "Er, yes sir. I do a lot of reading about showbiz people and some of the terms I don't understand, one in particular. What does it mean for a star to have `points' in a movie?"
Bob's eyes opened wide. "Ryan, you amaze me, because that is a subject uppermost in my mind. See, big stars sometimes take less upfront money in exchange for a percentage of the movie's gross revenue. That can be risky if a movie bombs, but Grady's pictures are major blockbusters, thanks largely to him, so two-percent of the worldwide gross, say, would bring in really big bucks. I was amazed to find out Grady has not had points in any of his films so far, so that's something I will fight for. The gross revenue, mind, not the net.
"Oh, I know why that is, sir. The studio can't hide the gross income, but it has skillful accountants who can bump up the expenses and work the figures so the movie shows no net profit at all. Grady would get nothing."
Bob smiled at Darius. "Darius, my man, I think I'm going to retire and hand the whole business over to your boy to run. He understands it as well as I do."
"And don't think he couldn't, Bob. Come here kiddo." He pulled Ryan into a bone-crushing hug. "And other condition of the job is that I give you a hiring bonus that might last all night, and you can't say no. Bob, could you include an NRD agreement in his contract – No Refusing Darius?"
Bob laughed. "Darius, I only insert contract clauses that are necessary. I can't imagine Ryan refusing you anything."
"Bob's right sir," Ryan smiled. "All night it is. Except that I have to get up early next morning, `cos I have an important new job to report to. Must make a good impression on my new boss on my first day."
<><> RANDY LOSES IT <><>
With renewed effusive thanks, the pair left Bob's office – Ryan to return to the business office and congratulations from Brandon and his colleagues – Darius back to his worksite, glowing with pride.
Bob went back to his desk with a satisfied smile, surprised how easily and quickly he had clinched the deal with Grady and then with Ryan. His first job was to draw up contracts – a standard employment agreement with Ryan, and a much longer complex contract with Grady.
He was still working on that task in mid afternoon, when Randy walked in unexpectedly. Deeply engrossed in his laptop Bob barely looked up. "Hey, dude," he murmured absently, "you're home early."
"Yeah, good of you to notice." But Bob didn't notice his lover's grating tone of voice, and kept on working.
Randy paced the room, which usually meant he was either horny or angry. If Bob had bothered to raise his head and see Randy's expression, he would have known it was definitely the latter
"So what are you doing?"
Vaguely annoyed at the interruption Bob muttered, "Trying to draw up this contract with Grady."
"Oh yeah, that thing you mentioned last night. So it seems you had a meeting and took him on as a client after all. I dimly recall Zack mentioned that at work?"
"Ryan's contract was simple, but Grady's is harder than I thought. Mustn't miss anything out."
"Hmm, maybe I can make it a bit easier for you." Randy stopped pacing, walked up to Bob's desk and slammed the lid of his laptop shut with a bang.
Startled, Bob jerked his head up ... and saw for the first time the savage look on the swarthy, gypsy face. "Randy, what the ...? What are you doing?"
"Oh, just trying to get ten seconds' attention from my buddy, my partner, my lover, the man I share everything with ... or used to. Now, it seems, I'm kept out of the loop. You've become this high-powered lawyer and I'm just the working grunt who shovels dirt all day. I guess a PhD and MBA beats hands down a what ... a DDS, ditch-digging slob?"
"Randy, where's all this nonsense coming from all of a sudden?"
"Not all of a sudden, asshole ... been building for a while. Last night you mentioned something vague about working for Grady, and today I hear from Zack, of all people, that you've signed up to become Grady's attorney. How d'you think that makes me look to Zack? He was surprised that he knew before I did and even asked if everything was OK between us.
"Well no, it fucking well ain't OK. There's even a rumor going round that to celebrate you had wild sex with Grady, worked him over good.
"So I come here to sort stuff out and see young Ryan celebrating `cos he's gonna be your full-time secretary or whatever you call it. All his buddies knew – seems everyone knows everything about you before I do. You've cut me – me! – clear out of the loop. And when I walk in here you good as ignore me, you're so wrapped up in your stupid Grady contract. Don't even have the time of day for me."
Randy stood towering over him, clenching and unclenching his fists, with that steely look of fury that terrified others and even made Bob nervous. He sat back in his desk chair and prepared to reason with Randy and calm him down.
"Randy, I was wrong and I regret my failure to communicate better. But the Grady thing was a big deal and I had to do a lot of thinking. You were at work when I went up to the Grady House for our meeting and clinched the deal. Then one thing quickly led to another, I spoke to Brandon and Ryan, and the boy accepted my offer to employ him as my office assistant. Maybe I should have called you ... I was going to fill you in eventually ..."
"'I was gonna fill you in'," Randy mimicked sarcastically. "'I was gonna, yeah, when hell freezes over'? And what else were you gonna tell me? That you're gonna pull the plug, leave the company, and leave me, to go work for your other high-powered clients like Grady?"
"Randy you're being ridiculous," Bob snapped, starting to lose his patience. "You are being totally irrational, exaggerating everything as usual."
"Oh is that so?" Randy leaned over him and pointed a threatening finger at this face. "Well here's a newsflash, buddy, I'm the boss around here, and stuff like this, you consult with me to make sure I approve."
That's where Bob lost it. He got up from his desk and confronted Randy face to face. "Make sure you approve?! I have to get your approval for taking on a new client and hiring office staff? You know that is totally insane. Do I come to your construction site and complain, `why did you fire this crew guy, why did you hire this new one without my approval?' You'd laugh in my face, same as I'm laughing in yours now.
"As for sex with Grady ... how many times have you fucked his ass eh? And I don't recall you ever asking for my approval.
"No, there's obviously something else going on here. I think you're nervous, jealous that I'm getting closer to Grady. You're afraid I'm hiring an assistant so I can set up an office, move up to the Grady House and live and work from there. Maybe fuck Grady and Mario every night.
"See? Sounds ridiculous, don't it? The problem here is your damned ego, Randy. Oh sure, you parade around playing the part of the big muscle-boss with the gigantic cock, throwing your orders around. But underneath that butch act your ego is as fragile as a cobweb. And all a cobweb's good for is catching flies, little itty-bitty flies.
"Well here's a newsflash for you, big guy. I'm not one of those flies, caught in your web waiting to be devoured by your gigantic cock. I'm my own man, I make my own decisions. And right now, I gotta tell ya, working and living with a famous movie star like Grady is looking a whole lot more attractive than kicking around with a ditch-digger, as you call yourself."
Bob's verbal skills way outclassed Randy's limited vocabulary, which right now was reduced to a guttural "Fuck you, asshole." As words failed he was reduced to the only other weapon in his arsenal – his hands – and he slapped Bob hard across his face.
All his rage, frustration and fear went into the blow, which sent Bob reeling back and sprawling on the floor. Randy looked down in horror. He had hit the man he loved, something he had promised he would never do again. A tangled mix of remorse and residual rage rooted him to the spot, and overcame his instinct to help Bob to his feet.
Instead, Bob pulled himself up, rubbing his check that already glowed red. He stumbled to the desk, sat down heavily and picked up the phone. "Hey, Will. I know you guys are busy with dinner prep but could you do me a favor and bring up a bottle of Randy's favorite Scotch that you have stashed down there?"
"Sure thing, sir. Three minutes."
It seemed like the longest three minutes as Bob stared down at his desk and Randy paced the room, feeling entirely lost. Will knocked and came in, wearing his kitchen apron and chef's hat and bearing a tray with two glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. He instantly picked up on the heavy atmosphere in the silent room, and noticed Bob's inflamed cheek. But discreet as always, he acted casually.
"There you are, sirs, finest money can buy. I'll place it on this table, shall I? Would you like me to pour?"
Annoyed by Will's chirpy tone Randy growled, "Just leave the fucking bottle, cut the crap and get the hell out, boy."
Shocked, Will's freckled face blushed red and tears filled his eyes. "Sorry, sir. Sorry." He turned and stumbled to the door.
But Randy said, "Wait, kid ... wait." He ran across the room and pulled Will into a tight hug. "Kiddo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You know I would never hurt you." He kissed the boy's eyes, and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. Then he pulled off his chef's hat, ruffled his red hair and jammed the hat back on at an angle. "We still friends, Red?" Randy smiled.
"Of course we are, sir ... always."
"You know I love you, kiddo, don't you?"
"I do, sir." Will grinned. "But you know what the song says – `You always hurt the one you love, the one you shouldn't hurt at all'."
Will straightened his hat, kissed Randy's cheek and left the room.
<><> OPPOSITES ATTRACT <><>
When Randy turned round Bob was sitting on the couch before a low table with the Scotch on it. "Thank you for hugging Will, Randy. I would hate to see him leave in tears."
Randy said hesitantly, "Man, I love that kid. Did, er, did you hear what he said about hurting the one you love?"
"I did. And in that one sentence Will made more sense than all the crap we've been throwing at each other. Come have a drink."
After a moment's hesitation Randy sat at the opposite end of the couch. Then, realizing he was too far from the glasses he shuffled clumsily sideways, closer to Bob until they were almost touching. Bob poured his drink, Randy downed it and Bob poured him another.
"I also heard what you said to Will, Randy – the last part, I mean. And, er, I'd like to hear you say that to me."
Randy turned his head and his troubled blue eyes met Bob's steady gaze. "You mean this part – `you know I love you, kiddo'?"
"Yes, that part. Say it again, Randy. To me this time."
Randy looked him straight in the eye. "I love you, dude, I do."
"And I love you Randy, although I don't know why, after all these years together, we have to reassure each other of that. But let's hang on to that thought, Randy, and work from there."
"Bob, let me say ..."
"No, let's not say. Not the usual apologies, reconciliation and then fuck the hurt away. This ain't our first time at that rodeo, far from it. Too many times to count. Thing is, Randy, we had a fight. All couples disagree and quarrel."
"Yeah but they don't hit each other."
Bob grinned. "Ain't my first time at that particular rodeo either, dude. Used to be worse than a slap too."
Randy winced. "I guess I have a pretty bad track record, don't I?"
Randy, I don't want to rehash what happened here – some morbid blow-by-blow account. One blow is one too many for my blood. However, I do want to look at why it happened so we can make sure the same problem doesn't recur.
"I admit that I should have shared with you my excitement at the thing with Grady. It's every attorney's dream to represent a big successful star like Grady. I'll be tangling with all the big boys at a major movie studio, and Ryan and I will be keeping the press at bay. I was kind of hoping you'd be proud of me taking this leap in my career."
"I am proud, Bob, but I guess I felt, kinda locked out and jealous and ... and scared you were drifting away from me. You the big brainy lawyer and me just a ..."
"Stop right there, Randy. Because you've hit on the real issue here – the difference between you and me. But the truth is, the reason we're so successful as lovers, and as business partners, owes a lot to that difference. Opposites attract and all that. But what cut me to the quick was when you said a lawyer with a PhD and MBA beat a mere ditch-digger every time. Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?
"Yes we have different skills and thank God we do, and we're both at the top of our game. I'm good at the business side but, Randy, without you there would be no construction company. You built it brick by brick with muscle and sheer dogged determination, from a little two-man effort into the major, successful company it is today. And along the way we gathered around us this crowd of sensational men and boys who love us both.
"Call it a combination of my brains and your muscle. And apart from anything else, do you know how fucking sexy that makes you? You walk through a crowd and every dick gets hard. Those guys would take your sex appeal over my PhD every time. And every time you come home and walk in here in your old sweaty clothes, you take my breath away."
"Except when you've got your head buried in that computer," Randy grinned.
"Touché, you got me there dude. But what I'm saying is we are both, in our separate ways, big beautiful successful men, leaders of the tribe, who also happen to be crazy in love with each other. Don't get much better than that, dude."
"No, it really don't, buddy." Randy reached over and pressed his hand on Bob's. "And next time we quarrel, dude, let's try and remember this moment, sitting here drinking primo Scotch with major boners in our pants. But I guess I better keep away from the boner thing. Like you said, we can't fall into the trap of that old pattern – fight, make up and fuck the hurt away, like we always do."
"Now hold on there a minute, big guy. I don't think I actually excluded sex, did I?"
"Sounded that way to me, dude."
"Well, instead of calling it makeup sex, let's make it part of the therapy. Stand up." They got to their feet and faced each other.
"Look at us. You in those filthy, sweaty laborer's clothes, the muddy jeans, boots and ragged old tank. Me in smart tan slacks, a dress shirt and tassel loafers. There's the inequality that caused so much angst. Lose the clothes and the only difference between us is you have blue eyes and I have brown."
Randy shrugged. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Worth a try I guess."
<><> RANDY BACK ON TOP <><>
Randy pulled his tank off over his head while Bob unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it back off his shoulders. Staring into each other's eyes, Randy kicked off his boots and Bob slid off his loafers. They undid their pants and let them drop.
Randy gazed at this naked superman-handsome lover and sighed. "Dammit, man, you are so fucking beautiful it scares me ... scares me that you won't always be here with me."
"Till death do us part Randy."
"Can ... can I hug you?"
Bob grinned, "Is a hug different from a slap?"
"Sure. A hug don't have hate in it ... or stupidity ... mine."
Bob held his arms out sideways. "In that case, hug away, big guy."
Randy wrapped his arms round his lover and they stood motionless, in a tight embrace – two alpha males whose mutual strength and dominance could make them fiercely competitive one minute, then passionately loving the next. Randy whimpered softly, "Oh fuck ... fuck ... Man, I'm sorry for ..."
Bob touched his finger to Randy's lips. "No, no apologies for the past, no `never-agains' for the future. We'll just live in the moment – this moment."
Randy was a man of action, not words, and if he couldn't apologize verbally, he had other ways. He pulled back, stroked Bob's sculpted features, neck and chest ... and sank to his knees. Bob's cock was sticking out like a rod, and Randy closed his mouth over it and pushed forward until his stubbled face was buried in his lover's mass of dark pubic hair.
Bob stared down at the erotic sight of the rugged gypsy boss, on his knees sucking cock – a graphic image of a topman humbling himself in remorse. It was not only the visual image, of course. The sensation in Bob's cock of his lover's hot wet mouth was intense enough to bring him close to orgasm, which he struggled hard to control.
Randy sensed this, and his own cock was already straining for release. He knew what Bob really wanted, the same as he himself craved. The caveman was stirring inside him. Time to assert his authority, to show who was the real boss.
He abruptly pulled his mouth off Bob's cock and sprang to his feet. He wrapped his hand round the nape of Bob's neck and pulled him into a grinding kiss. Once again Bob felt the irresistible pull of Randy's magnetic sexuality. There was no man like him. He was not surprised to feel Randy squeeze him in his arms, lift his feet from the floor, carry him to the bed and toss him down on it.
There was a gleam in his blue eyes as he towered over his naked lover and growled, "Dammit, man, I gotta fuck that ass. You are such a fucking stud, a powerful lawyer, tangling with the big boys like you said. But here you are, all mine, naked on the fucking bed craving my dick up your ass. That is what you want, right?"
"Yes, sir."
Bob was momentarily surprised to hear the `sir' come out of his own mouth ... but it was a natural reflex. At this moment all else faded – the petty squabbles, the superficial tussle for supremacy.
This is what Bob had felt that very first long-ago day in that scruffy bar, sitting beside the sweaty construction worker ... why he had submitted to the physical abuse in the cheap motel, and come back for more. This is why he had lived an intensely passionate life with Randy for all these years. And this is why he was here now, lying naked on the bed, craving more.
"That's it for foreplay, dude," Randy growled. "I want your fucking ass. He knelt on the bed and pushed one of his legs back, giving him a clear shot at his ass ... and drove deep inside him.
Bob threw his head back and groaned in ecstasy. This was what he wanted, more than anything, to be dominated by the swarthy long-haired gypsy, as he had been years ago in the motel. No matter Bob's stature as a successful lawyer, a leader of men, a dominant alpha male in his own right. All that paled into insignificance under the glare of Randy's sexual charisma. More than love, more than lust, it was a natural surrender to the man's overpowering masculinity.
Bob gazed up into the laser-blue eyes that pierced him as intensely as the massive cock pierced his ass. The hypnotic eyes consumed him, drew him inexorably into a private world that they alone shared, body and soul.
As Randy's sinewy body rose and fell over him, he clamped his hands over Bob's pecs and dug his fingers into the solid flesh. His deep voice growled, "I fucking love you, man. Only I can give you this and you know it. That's why you're my man, why I can make you do anything ... like bust a massive load when I tell you to."
"Man, I want that so bad. I'm so close. Please let me feel your jizz in my ass, please make me cum."
Randy pressed down on Bob's pecs, pinning his muscular body to the bed as he flashed a dazzling smile. "Just so we understand each other, dude. I'm the boss, and I'm gonna cum inside your hot ass. Let me see you pump that load, man. Yeah ... fuck ... fuck ... yeaahh."
Suddenly everything was still. Motionless, they smiled into each other's eyes as semen poured from their cocks, the juice of the passion they shared – and always would.
They lay together for a while, but when Randy smiled Bob could still see a gleam in his eye that he recognized. He knew Randy wasn't quite finished.
"Buddy," Randy grinned, "you were fucking spectacular as always, and I think we sorted things out here, don't you?" Bob braced for more, and he was surprised when Randy got off the bed and pulled on his jeans and boots.
"You going back to work?"
"Nah, my foreman can close up for the day. I promised Mario I would go up their house before the party and check on the security, make any repairs to the fences. You just get on with your contracts and stuff that I interrupted, and whatever you have to do with Ryan. He's a good kid. You made the right choice. Sorry to bail on you like this. He grinned roguishly. "I know you'll be pining for me."
"Arrogant prick," Bob smiled.
"Asshole," Randy grinned, and strode from the room.
Left alone, Bob frowned, wondering what was up. Randy could check the Grady House security anytime before the weekend. Why now? Then he smiled. That was it, of course – there was only one explanation.
<><> RANDY BUCKLES ON A TOOLBELT <><>
With renewed confidence, his wounded manhood restored, Randy swung up into his truck and headed up the hill. He was soon pulling up to the high, solid Grady House gates where he saw the security camera swing round and heard Brian's voice from the intercom. "Hello, sir, we weren't expecting you. Come right in."
The gates swung open, Randy drove in and parked by the garages. As he got out of the truck Brian came racing up in his wheelchair. Flashing his famous gleaming smile, Randy picked the boy up, kissed him, swung him round and deposited him safely back in the chair. "Hey kiddo, how's it hanging? You being a good kid?"
"Always, sir," Brian smiled shyly, "you know me. Mario's upstairs, do you want me to have him come down?"
"Nah, no need to disturb him. I came to do my usual pre-party security check. You ready for the big party?"
"We're getting there, sir. Lots to do. Er, Mario mentioned there are a few loose boards in the back fence, the far corner."
"OK, I'll take a look." Randy pulled his toolbelt from his truck and buckled it low on his hips. Still shirtless in work pants and boots, he looked to Brian like something out of a porn flick. Without quite knowing why, Brian said, "Er, Grady's out there somewhere lying in the sun, sir. If you come across him better not wake him up – he's coming off a tough few weeks of filming."
"Thanks, I'll bear that in mind, kiddo."
"Gotta get back, sir. Yell if you need anything."
Randy began his inspection of the perimeter, starting at the gates. He stopped every so often to test the fence and punch in nails where needed. Occasionally he pulled from a pouch on his toolbelt a small dogeared pad and wrote notes about parts required for later repairs to a more serious breach.
It took him a while to get round the whole perimeter and as he came back closer to the house he saw in the distance, not far from the pool, a figure lying flat on the lawn. "Ahh." He gave a satisfied grunt. The security check had been real and necessary, but this was also real and even more necessary, in his mind. The security could have waited, but this couldn't.
He walked across the garden and stared down at the figure sleeping in the sun. "Shit damn," he growled under his breath. Lying buck naked on a towel spread on the grass, Grady looked breathtaking – the perfect icon of a movie action hero idolized worldwide. Randy stared down at the chiseled, square-jawed features and the classically sculpted physique, honed to perfection in grinding gym workouts that Randy himself had inflicted on Grady.
Grady was asleep, body sprawled on the ground one arm thrown back above him, like a pose arranged for a publicity shot to display his exquisite body to the max. His chest rosed and fell gently in sleep and his lips were slightly parted in a faint smile.
Randy frowned. Why was he smiling, was he dreaming of Bob maybe? How Bob had signed on as his attorney and then fucked him in a wild sexual fantasy of bondage and domination? Of how, as Bob's employer, we would be meeting with him often, maybe combining business and sex and even fucking Bob's ass? He was now Bob's boss after all, in a way.
Randy felt his anger rising and he fought against it, recalling how his irrational anger had got him in trouble with Bob. No, he had simply come up here to sort things out with this man, lay down some rules. He also fought the growing bulge in his pants as he stared down at the homoerotic sight. His anger he could control, but not the hardon – only one way to handle that.
[He cleared his throat loudly and Grady's eyes opened. Dazzled by the sun at first he could see only a shape, but as his vision cleared, he gasped. Towering over him was a swarthy muscular gypsy, a bare-chested construction worker in jeans and heavy boots, a tool belt swung low round his tight waist. His muscular arms were folded across his massive chest as his penetrating blue eyes stared down at him.
"Oh my god, Randy. You look ... oh my god." Grady propped himself up on his elbows. His cock, that had been lying limply over his thigh now quickly rose, rigid as a flagpole. "Randy, I'm sorry I ... oh my god."
Randy stared with satisfaction at Grady's hard-dick reaction and his fumbling discomfort. "You're sorry, dude? You feel guilty about something? About Bob maybe? About becoming his boss and having sex with him without consulting me?"
"No, Randy. No, I didn't ... I mean I'm not his boss. I begged him to become my attorney, is all. And ... well, we did have sex but, that was just my way of thanking him. I didn't know I should have ... I mean, I didn't think ..."
"Well let me do the thinking for you, boy. You are not, and never will be, Bob's boss. That job's taken ... I'm his boss and he's my man, `cos I'm the King of the fucking Gypsies.
"I can understand him being seduced by your stardom. Becoming the lawyer for a movie idol, a muscle-jock action star might seem like a big deal. But not me, buddy. To me you're not this hotshot celebrity. To me you're just one of the guys."
"Thank you Randy, that's just what I want to be, always. Maybe at the studio I'm something, but here I'm just a regular guy."
"To do with as I please, right?"
"Yes, sir. Definitely. Yes please, sir."
Randy unfolded his arms and they dropped to his sides, fists slightly clenched. "When I say you're a regular guy, I mean a guy with a spectacular face and body and a primo ass – more about that in a minute. But as for this job of Bob's, let me make things crystal clear."
Randy yanked open his pants, pulled out his cock and dropped to his knees between Grady's sprawled legs. Grady automatically stretched his arms up submissively in a V on the ground. Randy leaned forward and pinned his wrists to the ground, so hard it made him wince. The tools on his belt scraped against Grady cock and abs.
"So here's the deal, buddy. Bob's your attorney, I'm cool with that. But he calls the shots, right, not you."
"That ... that's why I hired him, dude, to take charge."
"You didn't hire my man, dude, he agreed to work for you. And if at anytime you give him grief, try to pull rank, hurt him in anyway at all, you'll have me to reckon with ... and I think you know what that means."
"I ... I think so, Randy."
"Hmm, I'm not sure you do, so let me prove it, prove who's really the boss." He momentarily released Grady's wrists, ripped open his jeans and pulled out his iron-hard cock. He pushed his legs back, leaned forward between them and clamped his wrists on the ground again. The head of his huge dick pressed against his hole. "Now you're mine, my prisoner. Let me see you try to get free."
Grady flexed his muscles and tried to free his arms, head thrashing from side to side. "I ... I can't, sir. I'm at your mercy."
"Damn straight you are. At the mercy of a big ol' gypsy construction boss. You like how that feels?"
"Yes, sir. What you gonna do to me, sir?"
Randy frowned. "Hmm, nothing, I think. Not this time."
Grady gasped. "No, sir, please. I want it, sir. I want you inside me so bad. I'm begging you."
"Nah, you're not worth it."
Desperate, Grady blurted, "OK, I did hire Bob, so I'm his boss and he'll do whatever I order him to. I'll even fuck his ass ..."
Randy's eyes blazed. "Damn you ... fuck you man ... you asked for this."
"Aaagh ..." Grady screamed as he felt the monster shaft penetrate him, drive into the depths off his ass and over the inner sphincter. "Oh my god ... fuck, I'm gonna cum ..."
"Not until I tell you to, stud. You said you wanted to get fucked by a macho construction boss, right?
"Oh yeah. I'll do what you say, Randy. You're the boss. Please, I didn't mean what I said ..."
"I know you didn't Grady. But I'm gonna fuck you anyway. Brace yourself, stud."
It was a classic Randy fuck, savage to the point of Grady's pain threshold, and a bit over it for a few seconds. Grady gazed at the brawny gypsy above him, muscles flexing as he rose and fell over him, the tools on his belt banging against his abs as his huge shaft pistoned inside him, again and again and again.
Grady loved to get butt fucked, but there was no one like Randy. When he had first opened his eyes and seen the bare-chested gypsy towering over him he had craved what was happening to him now. He was lost in the pale blue eyes staring down at him, hypnotized by them and the deep, commanding voice.
He drifted into a fantasy world of total abject submission to this savage alpha stud reaming his ass. He lost all sense of time and place. His body was on fire and somewhere in the distance he heard a voice growl ... "Now, man ... do it now ... that's an order."
Grady's cock shuddered and erupted in a plume of semen that shot up and splashed on the massive heaving chest of the man whose cock was flooding his ass with the juice he craved.
<><> BRIAN'S GOSSIP BOOK <><>
Everything went black for a few seconds, and when he opened his eyes Randy was smiling down at him. He leaned forward and kissed Grady. "So do we understand each other, dude?"
"Oh yeah ... perfectly Randy. Thanks for straightening me out on all that. Aaahh." He gasped as Randy pulled out of his ass, got to his feet and shoved his cock back in his pants. "You will come again, won't you Randy?"
"Sure I will. I gotta come back with more gear to fix the rest of the fence. And you better be here too, ready for me."
"I will, of course I will. And you'll be at the party?"
"Try keeping me away," Randy grinned.
At that moment Mario and Brian appeared and Randy flashed a smile. "Hey, you guys, were you two watching from the window?"
"Of course we were, sir, Brian laughed." He waved his notebook at Grady. "And I got it all written down here, sir. Plus a video here," waving his cellphone.
Randy pulled Grady to his feet, kissed him then handed him off to Mario. "Here, buddy, you can have him back now. He's all yours ... you two belong to each other."
"Thank you for checking the fence, Randy and ... and, er, for everything else," Mario said, slipping his arm round Grady's waist. "Are you feeling OK, amico?"
"What do you think, buddy? You saw what happened. Thanks again, Randy."
Grady ruffled Brian's hair. What d'ya think kiddo? Man I can't wait for this party – we're gonna have a blast. You keep that book handy kid. There'll be a whole lot of gossip goin' on."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 617
Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter turned you on, 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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