A Trial of Strength

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 81 By Rob Williams

IN THIS CHAPTER

Back together, Randy and Bob make love as they never have before ... "like making music." Bob takes charge of the house. Jamie services the cop on his knees. Zack meets Lloyd for the first time. "I think we're gonna get along real well, Lloyd." And the new mechanic is broken in by the boss. "The naked mechanic was slumped over the big machine, the erotic picture of a young stud fucked to exhaustion."

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A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 81

Randy's brutal punishment of Bob had set in motion a train of events, all of them painful for the rugged construction worker, culminating in a beating by Zack that left Randy lying humiliated in the dirt.

As he lay there his bewildered mind ran over the events of the extraordinary day. In a jealous rage he had tortured his lover, injured his boy and been rejected by his friends. He had wilted under the tongue lashing of Mark, a man he loved and respected. And finally he had been brutally beaten into a humiliated wreck by the man he had looked on as a brother. Worst of all, he had lost his soul-mate, the man he was to have spent his life with.

Even when the routine of the house resumed, dark clouds loomed over it. Bob was living in Zack's house across the street. Randy worked late at the construction site and spent the evenings at home alone or with Pablo. The two men thought of each other of course, but always with confusion and a contradictory mix of emotions. So they had tried to suppress the memory and move on.

But of course the inevitable happened when by chance, in the garden of their house, they came face-to-face, their eyes meeting like lasers. And there it was again in that look ... the intense, spiritual sensation of two souls uniting, familiar to them by now but always unexplainable. There was so much to say, but they said nothing, lowered their eyes like embarrassed lovers, and went their separate ways.

But the brief meeting had sent them both into an agony of loneliness and loss. In their separate homes the two men pined for the other, and their longing was so intense that their spontaneous, solitary orgasms had been inevitable.

Bob had tried to sleep but it was no use. He moaned, "I can't do this, Randy. Not on my own. I can't." His need was stifling him. Then suddenly he knew what he had to do. It was so clear, so obvious that he sighed with relief. He pulled himself off the bed and, without pausing to dress, stumbled out of the house and across the street.

At the same moment, lying on his own bed Randy's mind was clearing. His old strength and determination came flooding back to him and he leapt to his feet. "This is fucking bullshit," he said, angry with himself. Now he was sure. The weight lifted from his shoulders and he ran to the door. "Hang on, buddy," he murmured. "I'm coming."

He ran downstairs, rushed outside ... and stopped dead in his tracks. There in the middle of the lawn stood Bob, naked, stunningly beautiful. Nothing moved. Even the breeze held its breath. The late afternoon shadows had grown longer across the lawn. But as the two men gazed at each other there was not a shadow of a doubt between them.

Their eyes locked onto each other and never wavered as they walked closer. The first touch was like an electric charge. Each ran his hands over the other man's muscular body in wonder, as if they were exploring a lost land. Their faces came closer and their lips touched. But they were still unsure of each other and they separated nervously. As if reading each other's thoughts they turned toward the house. Randy gently wrapped his arm over his lover's shoulder and they went inside and upstairs to bed.

On the bed Bob lay on his back. Randy was next to him on his side, propped on his elbow gazing into his lover's beautiful face. Not a word had been spoken since they met. It wasn't so much that words were inadequate ... they weren't even relevant. Communication between the two men was on a whole new level. That gleam in the eye that always flashed between them, uniting them, now flowered into an all-embracing harmony that needed no voice.

They had endured pain and loss that had become unbearable ... but now they were home. They had found each other again and their reunion was like the sun emerging after a storm. Randy lowered his face and their lips met. But it was not the rough, grinding embrace of the past. It was as if Randy was still afraid of losing his lover again, scared that touching him would make him disappear. So the touch of his lips was light as gossamer.

This was new. The brawny construction worker used his physical strength in everything he did. He knew no other way. So a kiss was always a physical act of domination. But now his cock grew stiff as he felt the light-as-air touch of his lover's mouth. Bob's body trembled as he felt the fragile kiss and gazed into the eyes of a man he hardly recognized ... tender, sensitive, subtle... words he never thought to apply to his rugged mate.

Gently Randy eased himself on top of Bob, then lowered himself until their bodies were pressing together. And again their mouths met, tentatively, their lips sliding slowly against each other. Hesitantly their tongues touched ... just the tips. Close together they saw themselves reflected in each other's eyes; the man and the reflection became one. Their whole world was here. Nothing else existed It was as if they were floating.

They were dimly aware that their bodies were trembling. Each felt the pressure in his groin, felt the other man's rigid cock pressed against him. And with no other movement, no sound, each man felt his lover's semen pouring out of him, anointing their bodies in an embrace that they knew would never end. It was as if they had created the act of loving.

What had really happened is that they had "made love" to each other for the very first time ... like making music.

Bob was lying on his back again. Propped on his elbow beside him Randy ran his finger round the contours of Bob's sculpted pecs. "This is what I remembered about you," he said softly. "And this" ... his finger traced the ridges of his washboard stomach. "This too." ... he stroked the ridge of his nose ... "and this" ... he touched the square, lantern jaw. "These too, of course" ... and he kissed the soft, brown eyes. "And this ..." He lowered his mouth onto Bob's lips and they kissed again, only this time more confidently, passionately.

Randy pulled back, gently turned Bob onto his stomach and stared at his back. "Oh God, man, I am so sorry." His eyes ran over the back, still bearing the stripes of the whip, and down to the ass, still marked, still red. He bent down and pressed his lips on the tender flesh of the ass, licking it as if to wash the stripes away.

Bob murmured into the pillow, "You can take the pain away, Randy. You can heal everything. You know how to do it."

Randy got to his knees and gazed down at the globes of his lover's ass, perfect in spite of the marks. His cock was hard even though he had cum so recently. Bob was used to the usual assault on his ass when Randy impaled him savagely on his huge tool. But this time he felt almost nothing, just the smooth sensation of his lover gliding gently inside him. He sighed deeply as a glow suffused his body. This was his man, loving him. Not the wild demon who usually savaged him, but his lover ... loving him.

This time it wasn't carnal lust. Huge and powerful as Randy's body was, as brutal as his cock could be, now it rose and fell on his lover's wounded flesh with the gentleness of snow. And this time when their juice poured from them it was not so much an explosion of physical release as a simple outpouring of love.

Randy's voice was firm now, confident. "It's gonna be different from now on, buddy, I swear it to you." Having come back down to earth from the ecstasy of their reunion the men were lying contentedly in each other's arms. "I've been such a damn fool and I paid a price when Zack beat the shit out of me. I knew he would and I'm glad he did. But it was Mark who really opened my eyes. When he laid into me and read me the riot act he didn't pull any punches. He showed me what a fucking asshole I've been."

"You've always treated Bob like shit,' Mark said, like one of your possessions, one of your boys.' He said I was crazy to think that a gorgeous alpha male like you should submit to me, be subservient. I was arrogant to think it was fine for me to fuck whoever I want cause I'm the boss, but it wasn't OK for you cause you're just one of my possessions."

"Randy, you don't have to go over all that ..."

"No, buddy ... he was dead right ... all that was true. Then he said something that really hit home. `And what is all this shit about owning him, owning his ass? Bob is not your boy. Nobody owns that man, least of all you!"

"Randy, stop. It's all in the past."

Randy's voice softened. "You're right there, buddy. It's all in the past. From now on I'm treating you with the love and respect you deserve, like the gorgeous, generous, spectacular man that you are. No more owning', no more sir'. We're equals, buddy. No, not really ... you're a better man than I could ever hope to be." His voice trailed off to a whisper. "It's just that I've always been so scared of losing you, man."

Bob smiled at him. "After what we just did here, Randy ... the way we made love? When I look into your eyes I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will never, ever leave you." He propped himself on his elbows. "But that doesn't mean I can't change. You're right, I guess I have kind of lived in your shadow, so from now on I'm gonna be more assertive." Then he paused and frowned. "Just one thing about what you said, though. I mean, it was great making love like that. But when we have sex, when we play ... well, remember what we did in that scruffy motel where we first met?"

Randy understood instantly, remembering the raw physical sex they had all that time ago when he had overpowered Bob, dominated him in body and spirit. He grinned. "Oh now, don't get me wrong. Any time you want it, when we're alone together, you're gonna get it, good and rough. That doesn't change. You want a master? You got one. Whenever you want it. Is that clear, asshole?"

"Yes, sir," Bob grinned. "Thank you, sir."

The next day was Saturday and nobody worked. Bob and Randy spent much of the morning talking together, and then Bob had quick discussions with Mark and Zack. Finally he went to the kitchen and spoke to the three boys. "Hey guys, can you do something special for lunch? ... kind of a celebration, a reunion. We'll all be there." And that is exactly what the boys had been longing to hear.

So they all assembled at the outdoor table, rather tentatively, and Zack didn't make eye contact with Randy at first. There was a kind of muted embarrassment in the air, so before lunch began Bob stood up and cleared his throat. "Guys, there are a few things I want to say before we eat." His voice was clear and firm, with a ring to it that they had not heard before. They all fell into a respectful silence silent as they sat round the table and looked up at him.

"First, on a personal note, I want to make it clear that Randy and I are together ... never more so, in fact ... and we always will be." There were cheers from the three boys until they were silenced by a look from Bob. "So the past is the past. I want there to be no hard feelings. I really appreciate everything you did for us, and I want us to be the same close group of guys as we were before. Is that clear?" and he looked pointedly at Randy, Mark and Zack. They all grinned at each other, realizing that this was the new Bob ... taking charge.

"Now, you've all heard the gossip of what happened in San Francisco." He paused to let the uneasy laughter subside. "But the other thing that happened is that I got a promotion at my firm. I'll still be based in L.A. but it'll mean more work ... plus a company car. I'll have less time to give to the construction company so, with Mark's approval, I'm making Jamie the office manager. He'll be in charge of all our business affairs. In time he'll have an assistant. He's worked real hard and deserves the promotion." Jamie blushed deep red as Mark put his arm round his shoulder and Darius and Pablo cheered again.

Bob hadn't finished. "As you know by now, Randy has hired Pablo to do all the company's vehicle maintenance and we'll be looking for an assistant for him too. You also know that Darius has become Zack's boy and is helping him with the remodeling on his house. By the way, Zack, any luck yet finding an architect?"

"Sure," Zack said. "I'll be using the company architect Lloyd ... out of work hours, of course, and I'll pay him myself. You all say he's good, and I spoke to him on the phone but haven't met him yet."

Randy grinned. "Yeah, well good luck with that, buddy. Should be quite a show. Just make sure Darius doesn't make a movie of it."

"Aw, boss," Darius groaned.

"Anyway," Bob said, "the three boys are gonna be real busy from now on and we've used them as servants around here for too long. So I'm gonna be looking for a live-in guy to take charge of the household, especially the cooking." This time the boys really cheered, glad finally to be relieved of their household chores.

Throughout this speech Randy had been looking up at his lover with pleasure and pride. A few days ago Bob had been tied to the bed, whipped and humiliated, but he had come back to Randy and they had made unbelievable love. Now he was a changed man, a commanding alpha male. And this magnificent man was his equal, his lover! No doubt about it ... partnership was better than ownership.

Zack looked from one man to the other and marveled at them. What they had was unique, a rare bond that he had never before seen in two people, a bond that apparently nothing, nobody could ever break. He loved them both, treasured his friendship with them and salivated over the future he would share with them.

Mark too was gratified to see Bob take charge. Apparently his tongue-lashing at Randy was having some effect. He smiled thoughtfully, folded his arms and rocked back on his chair. "Hey Bob," he said. "Isn't it about time you found a boy of your own." He grinned at Jamie. "I can highly recommend it. You're the only one of the four of us doesn't have one."

The three boys raised their hands and shouted in unison, "Me, sir ... Me, sir."

"You three are already taken," Bob laughed. And now it was his turn to blush at the wild shouts of encouragement. "OK, OK," he said. "All in good time. You never know what's round the next corner... Anyway that does it for me. I've had my say."

Randy stood up, put his arm around Bob's shoulder, and whispered to him, "Way to go, buddy." Then he said loudly to the group, "I have one more suggestion, guys." He paused for effect, looked around at them, and grinned. "Let's eat!" he shouted. "I'm fucking starving."

The meal was more boisterous than their gatherings had ever been as the tension of the previous days evaporated. Bob had effectively brought this difficult chapter in their lives to a close and there was a general air of relief, coupled with huge admiration for the new, assertive Bob. All the guys had always loved and respected him but today he had finally taken his place as a leading figure in the house. Randy was still the boss, of course. That would never change. But Bob now stood beside him as an equal. And that, they all felt, was exactly as it should be ... at long last.

There was one more loose end to tie up and during the weekend Mark took Randy aside.

"Guess who I had a call from, Randy. Remember the guy you beat up and fucked in his driveway?"

"Shit damn. So Steve is bringing charges."

"Actually no," Mark said. "He asked me if I could talk to you and maybe set up another therapy session. He seems to feel you need to continue your anger therapy." Mark grinned. "Can't imagine why."

"Shit, the guy's a glutton for punishment."

"Randy, Steve's offering therapy, not his ass."

"Yeah, well we'll see about that. OK, buddy. Set something up with him. Could be very interesting."

Starting on Monday the various elements of Bob's little speech all started to take effect. Eager to start work as the new mechanic Pablo reported to Jamie in the upstairs office and completed all the new-employee paperwork. Jamie too had become more assertive with his new job title and stood up formally to shake Pablo's hand.

"Congratulations, Pablo, and welcome aboard."

The two boys gazed at each other, then Pablo said, "Shit dude," and threw his arms round him. They found themselves kissing each other hungrily. When they finally separated Pablo said, "Dude, that tasted real good. We should try that again sometime. Look what you did," and he grabbed the bulge in his shorts.

"Work first, though," Pablo said. "Randy's given me a list of the equipment that needs fixing. I'll still be working out my notice at the motor pool, but after work today I'm gonna drop by the Number 2 site to take a look."

"Right now Darius is in charge there," Jamie said. You should report to him first."

"Yeah, right, like that's gonna happen," Pablo huffed dismissively and walked away.

A few minutes after he left the door opened again and Jamie looked up and gasped. He never got used to the sight of his master, Mark, magnificent in his black police uniform. The cop ruffled Jamie's hair. "Just leaving for work," he said. "Thought I'd stop by to see how the new office manager's doing." He looked down at the handsome young boy who was barefoot, in surfer shorts and a loose tank top. "So that's what the well-dressed manager is wearing these days."

"This one is sir," Jamie smiled.

Mark cleared his throat. "Er, there was one other thing. I asked Bob to add one other duty to your new job description."

"Yes, sir?"

"Yeah. From now on the office manager has to suck the cop's dick before the cop goes to work." Jamie grinned, his eyes shining. "Listen, kid, I'm gonna have that bike under my legs for the next eight hours and I've gotta be out of here in five minutes so make it quick."

Jamie fell to his knees and looked up at the beautiful blonde cop, standing legs astride, helmet under his arm. The boy reached forward, unzipped the uniform pants and pulled out the rigid cock. Hungrily he clamped his mouth round it and rode it hard, sucking it down his throat, squeezing it with his throat muscles. The rough serge of the uniform pants slammed into his face as the cop's hard rod pounded his face, making him choke.

It took much less than five minutes. He heard the cop's breathing become ragged, felt the cock shudder, and tasted the hot, sweet taste of his master's cum blasting down his throat. He swallowed hard, gulping the juice down, his eyes watering as the thick shaft pushed down deep. There was still cum in Jamie's mouth when the cop pulled him to his feet and clamped his mouth over his, sharing the taste of the warm, creamy juice. Finally Mark pulled back, kissed Jamie on the eyes and said. "You're the best, Jamie. I love you, kiddo."

After that Mark was all business. He buttoned up his pants, put on his helmet and as he was buckling it said, "Oh, there was one other clause I added to the work contract. When the cop comes home the office manager has to make his ass available to him. He'll be wanting to fuck it, hard. Clear?"

"No problem there, sir," Jamie grinned. "I'll be thinking about that all day."

"So will I, kid. So you be good and ready." He strode through the door and was gone.

It was not until early that evening that Pablo got to the construction site. He had changed out of his police overalls and put on the old dungarees he always preferred. The crew had all left, but the gate was still open. Pablo walked onto the deserted site and was aiming for the broken equipment when the door of the trailer office opened. It was Darius.

"Hey," he shouted. "What are you doing here?"

Pablo stopped in his tracks and faced him, with an air of defiance. "I'm the new mechanic, remember? The boss said I should come by and check out the backhoe loader that's giving trouble. That's what I'm doing." He turned and continued walking. Darius's eyes gleamed as his fantasy mill kicked into high gear. He ran from the trailer and confronted him.

"Not so fast, boy. I'm the site manager here. All new hires report to me. I have to check them out, make sure they've got what it takes."

Pablo stood his ground. "Oh, is that right? Well I've been cleared by the boss. He likes me a lot ... so consider me checked out." He turned his back on the young black stud and strode over to the big yellow backhoe. He yanked open the engine cover and bent forward to get a close look.

Darius folded his arms and stood looking at the new mechanic. His old dungarees were held up by only one strap over the shoulder, the other hung down, broken long since. And as always the muscular young kid wore nothing underneath the dungarees. Always preferred to work that way.

"Oh, man," Darius breathed. "Oh man-o-man!" If ever there was a fantasy this was it. The exotic young stud bent low over the engine, his sinewy body straining with physical effort as he worked, hair hanging down into his eyes. There were already grease marks on his shoulder and arms, and the boy was starting to sweat in the residual heat of the day. But it was something else that was the object of Darius's laser-like focus.

"Jesus, that ass," he breathed. As the mechanic leaned forward the lower half of his body flexed hard as it pressed against the machine. The thin cotton of his dungarees stretched tight across his ass and the perfect globes were clearly outlined underneath as they strained against the fabric.

Darius could feel his cock throbbing, but he didn't move, just stood there watching, his arms still folded across his chest. He allowed his imagination to race as he spun into the fantasy world he was so good at creating. He was the boss, after all, and this cocky kid was a new hire. And he had given him lip! Arrogant young fucker ... thought he was all that ... friend of the boss and all. Who knew if he was any good? Well he, Darius, the site manager, would damn sure find out. He put his hands behind his neck and yanked off his T-shirt.

Stripped to the waist he walked closer, but the mechanic ignored him, working intently, a look of concentration on his oil-streaked face. Darius stood behind him and watched. Beads of sweat were now gathering on the mechanic's handsome young face and, as he wiped them off, he left smears of grease on his forehead. He was trying to wrench a nut free and the effort made his biceps and shoulder ripple and flex.

He had been sweating in the sun all day and the black hair under his armpits was glistening wet, streams of perspiration running down his sides to the damp patches on his dungarees. There were sweat stains all over and Darius took a sharp intake of breath as he saw the thin fabric across his ass start to get wet, almost transparent. As he breathed deeply he smelt the mix of oil and sweat coming off the warm flesh.

Darius's cock was now straining against his jeans, but he tried to keep a professional calm. "You sure you're used to working on machines this big, kid?

"Yup," Pablo said, still concentrating on his task.

"Don't look to me like you're strong enough to handle those big tools." Pablo ignored him as Darius reached down and unzipped his jeans, pulling out his raging ten-inch cock.

"Think you could handle a tool this big?"

Finally, in exasperation the mechanic turned round and looked contemptuously at the huge black rod, shaking his head. "Jesus, man, you black guys are all alike. Just because you've got the almighty club you think you're hot shit. Well here's a news-flash big guy. Takes more than a big piece of meat to make you the boss. Now for crap's sake let me get on with my work." The mechanic turned round, bent over the machine and resumed his work.

Fantasy or not, Darius actually got angry. "You arrogant piece-of-shit cocksucker. You don't mouth off like that to me! Like I told you, asshole, I'm the boss here and I gotta check out all the new hires. And I'm not sure you can take the heat. Not sure at all."

Darius leaned forward and pulled the strap down from the mechanic's shoulder. With one more tug the overalls fell to the ground and the boy was naked, his incredible white ass pointing upward as he stretched forward. But amazingly the boy didn't miss a beat. He stayed bent over the machine and continued working.

Darius was enraged. He clamped the palms of his hands over the mounds of the ass, stretching it open. He pushed the mechanic hard against the metal, and brought the head of his raging dick up against the vulnerable hole. He snarled, "Maybe this'll convince you who's boss around here, boy." He rammed his hips forward and his huge shaft pierced the mechanic's ass, all ten inches of it, until it came to rest deep inside the warm gut.

There was a soft moan as the naked body tensed. Other than that there was no reaction, except that his hands stopped working and gripped the engine block hard. This lack of response angered Darius even more and he knew he had to really work this guy's ass. He pulled out all the way and plunged his dick in again, even deeper this time so he felt the head push against the muscle of the inner sphincter and pass over it into the deepest part of the young mechanic's gut.

This time he heard a muffled, "Oh, man," and he saw the boy's fists clench hard on the greasy metal. Now Darius's cock became a piston and the heaving black man began doing what he did better than most ... fucking ass. He slapped his hands on the boy's shoulders and pulled his body toward him, ramming his cock harder and harder. He felt his rough pubic hair scrape against the tender young flesh of the ass, felt the soft, warm membrane of the mechanic's ass tense under the onslaught of his pounding of his cock.

As he hammered the ass again and again Darius watched the mechanic buckle under him, black hair flying, his face now pouring sweat, hissing as it fell on the hot metal of the engine. Darius knew that the man couldn't take much more and he closed in for the kill. "Now boy, tell me who the boss is. Submit to your master."

The faint groan came ... "Fuck you man."

"I don't think so, asshole. It's your ass getting fucked, by the biggest damn cock you ever felt." Darius now piled on the pressure and the pounding became brutal. "You can make it stop, boy. Give up. You know you have to."

The young mechanic screamed. "OK, OK, you win. You're the boss. Please, sir, please. I can't take your cock anymore. I submit. Please, sir. Cum inside my ass."

Their explosions were simultaneous. With one last gigantic thrust Darius buried his monster tool deep inside the ass and it erupted with streams of hot juice. The mechanic flexed hard, his body shuddered and he yelled as his cock blasted its load over the side of the backhoe, shooting up over the edge and splashing down with a hiss on the hot engine block.

Both men heaved, gasping for breath as Darius leaned forward and pressed his body against the exhausted boy. They stayed like that for minutes, until finally the mechanic felt the rod pull back, inch by inch, and fall at last out of his tortured ass.

Darius stood up and pushed his dick back inside his jeans. "OK, kid. You'll do. You passed the inspection. When you're finished here report to me in the trailer. And for god's sake wipe your cum of the side of that machine. You'll get the company a bad name."

Darius bent down, picked up his discarded T-shirt, slung it over his shoulder and strode back to the trailer with a huge smile of satisfaction on his face.

In the trailer Darius washed off his cock, zipped up his jeans and looked out the window. "Oh man," he breathed as he watched his fantasy continue. The naked mechanic was still slumped over the big machine, his arms stretched forward over the engine, his head hanging down. He was still breathing hard and cum was oozing from his ass and running down his leg. It was the erotic picture of a young stud fucked to exhaustion.

It was the unique talent of Darius's elaborate fantasies that he made others believe in them and learn to live their part. And that's what happened now. Darius saw the mechanic pull himself upright, reach down and pull up his dungarees, re-attaching the single strap over his shoulder. But he did not continue working. Instead he turned round, looked at the trailer and stumbled toward it.

The door opened and Darius's cock started to grow again in his pants as he looked at the young mechanic standing before him, sweat still running down his greasy face and arms, dungarees stained with oily, wet patches. The arrogant expression of before was replaced with an exhausted, beaten look of submission.

"You finished your work already, boy?" Darius barked.

"No, sir," the mechanic groaned and he fell to his knees. "I'm sorry I mouthed off to you sir." But he wasn't looking up at Darius's face. His eyes were focused forward onto the bulge in the boss's jeans.

"So that's it. You want more of this big cock, uh, boy?"

"Please, sir," the young stud said softly. He came forward on his knees and pressed his open mouth against the rough denim. He closed his mouth over the bulging crotch and breathed in deeply, groaning as he smelt the cock through the jeans. Darius grabbed his hair and pulled the face back. With his other hand he unzipped his pants and his half-hard cock flopped out.

"Make it hard, boy." He shoved the long black tool into the mouth and felt the mechanic work on it until it became stiff. He watched the oil-stained face rise and fall, saw the tangled black hair and tear-stained eyes. He heard the young mechanic slurp and choke on the monster black shaft that was now hard as a pole.

Suddenly Darius pulled out of the mouth and said. "So, boy, you wanna tell me again who's boss?"

"You are sir."

"OK, here it comes ..." Darius's cock exploded with a jet of cum that slammed into the mechanic's face, into his hair, his eyes and ran down over his cheeks and neck. The sight of the beautiful face streaked with oil, sweat and semen was such a turn-on for Darius that his cock kept erupting in a spectacular orgasm. When he finally stopped he pulled the boy to his feet and looked into his eyes.

"Now, boy, you have to do something for the boss." Darius dropped to his knees and opened the buttons of the fly in the dungarees. The mechanic looked down at him and stroked his own cock. It took only a few seconds for it to become raging hard. His body shuddered, he felt heat rising from his balls and along his cock ... and he saw his own juice streaming out onto the handsome black face.

When it was over Darius stood up, looked into Pablo's eyes, then pressed their faces together. They rubbed against each other, feeling their own creamy cum spread over their faces as they licked it, sucked it, breathed it in and ravenously kissed the lips and eyes.

Pablo whispered, "Dude, you are the best. That was spectacular. You're incredible, Darius. Thank you, man."

Darius smiled back. "Any time, dude. OK, let's go home."

As they walked toward the gate Darius said. "Now don't forget, boy. Every time you come to work on this site you check in with me first, got it?"

"So you can check me out again, sir?"

"Damn right I will, boy. You can bet your sweet ass on that."

Randy and Bob were sitting at the table by the pool with Mark, Jamie and Zack when the gate opened and the two disheveled boys walked in. Their faces and clothes were still streaked with oil and dried cum, and it was obvious at a glance that they had just had sex ... a lot of it.

Randy gazed at them. "You boys are late home. You get that backhoe fixed, Pablo?"

"Not yet, sir," Pablo stammered. "I, er ..."

Darius bailed him out. "As he's the new mechanic, sir, I had to check him out first. Make sure he was up to the job."

"And was he?" Bob grinned.

"Absolutely, sir. I think he'll do just fine."

"You broke him in, uh?" Randy chuckled. "Just let me know if you need any help with him."

"I don't think that'll be necessary, sir. I'm sure I can handle it."

Mark grinned at the other guys. "Not much doubt about that, I'd say."

Pablo was not the only new hire that week. Well, Lloyd was not exactly a new hire as he had been the firm's architect for some time. But working for Zack would be new. When he got the phone call from Zack he had readily agreed to take on the job of designing the new extension to the house he was remodeling. Sure, the extra money would come in handy, but it was more the prospect of working on a small domestic project that appealed to him, a welcome change from all the big commercial stuff he did.

Lloyd had heard Zack's name mentioned but they had never met. Zack was the manager of the Number 1 construction site and Lloyd was assigned to the Number 3 site which was still partially in the planning stage. They had arranged to meet at Zack's house after their regular workday.

As he rang the doorbell Lloyd was intrigued to know what the guy was like. "Probably your average scruffy construction worker," he thought to himself. "Oh, well." Lloyd himself had dressed smartly in well-tailored suit and tie as he always did when meeting a new client. Handsome, well-built, he knew he looked good. He became impatient when no one answered the door, but he heard thudding sounds coming from behind the house, so he walked through a gate at the side and round to the garden in back.

The sounds were coming from a guy kneeling over a tree stump, pounding at the earth to loosen it, evidently trying to work the stump out of the ground. All Lloyd could see was the guy's naked back. Must be one of Zack's laborers. After all, no one had mentioned that Zack himself was black.

Lloyd cleared his throat noisily to be heard over the banging. "Excuse me," he said sharply.

The man raised his head, pulled himself to his feet and tuned round to face the architect. Lloyd's mouth gaped open and he felt his legs go weak. The man was spectacular. Tall, black as ebony, with a perfect bodybuilder's physique ... broad shoulders, wide lats tapering down to a slim, tight waist. All he was wearing was a pair of old, gray torn shorts that gripped his thick, sinewy thighs. Under the shorts Lloyd saw the bulge of the huge club running down so low the tip was visible poking out at the bottom.

Under a sheen of sweat the chiseled muscles gleamed in the late afternoon sun, still pumped from the physical effort, veins still bulging under the thin skin. The chest heaved as the man caught his breath. Lloyd was mesmerized by the face, with its strong, square jaw, high cheek bones and deep-set gray eyes, the head shaved clean.

The picture was pornographically beautiful ... and suddenly it came alive. The glorious face broke into a beaming smile with flashing white teeth. "Hi, I'm Zack ... you must be Lloyd." Lloyd didn't move. He was in a trance, rooted to the spot. "Hello!" Zack grinned. "Earth to Lloyd ... anyone there?"

Lloyd snapped back to life and stammered. "Er, sorry. Hi, I'm Lloyd."

"I know," Zack laughed. "I just said that. Good to meet you at last." He put out his hand and gripped Lloyd's in a crushing handshake. "Sorry about the shorts. Didn't expect to have such a well-dressed visitor. Still, we'll soon change that. You're working for me now, Lloyd. It's real casual around here. You'll get used to it."

Zack looked the handsome architect up and down and smiled. "I think we're gonna get along real well, Lloyd," he said, looking down at the bulge growing bigger by the minute in the crotch of the well-tailored pants.

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength ... Part 82"