Date: Wed, 23 Aug 2017 02:20:01 -0400
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 376  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH - PART 376
By Rob Williams

CHAPTER 376 – "BOB & RANDY FACE OFF"

IN THIS CHAPTER:

Alone on a remote beach Bob and Randy try to rekindle the spark of passion
that has deserted them.  Raw lust is still alive, as Bob watches Randy row
their boat.  "Every muscle in the rugged gypsy's body flexed, spray flecked
his chiseled physique and stubbled face, his long black hair blew into his
steel blue eyes."  But where was the love? Maybe the flame really was gone.
Then a crisis changes everything.
_____________________________________________________________________


************ In the previous chapter *************

The saga of Bob's breakup with his long-time lover Randy had reached a
pivotal point.

The hothead construction boss Randy had become infatuated with the
newcomer, the macho Hispanic Miguel.  They had gone on a fishing trip
together having more-or-less nonstop sex, ignoring any adverse effect they
might have on the rest of tribe.  Much worse was the fact that when they
came back to the house Randy couldn't keep his hands off Miguel, demeaning
Bob in front of the tribe.

As Bob had later said bitterly to Randy, "This is not like the other times,
Randy.  This time you met another man and ... fell in love, lust,
infatuation, whatever ... and ignored and humiliated me.  It looked to the
whole tribe as if I had been kicked to the curb like yesterday's trash.
I'm not sure things can ever be the same, but let's at least try to be
civil to each other, even though I am still too mad at you even to share a
bed with you.

So they slept in separate beds and their conversation barely rose above the
`pass-the-salt' level at mealtimes.

The effect on the whole tribe was harrowing and, unknown to Bob or Randy,
three of the senior men hatched a plot to start them on the road to
reconciliation.  The macho Aussie Adam said, "Look, mates, I think it's
about time some of us guys nudged things along a bit."

So Adam, with the fireman Jason and the Forest Ranger Pete, staged a
friendly arm wrestling tournament where the prize for the final winner was
the loser's ass.  Bob made up the fourth participant and the contest was
viewed by their boys and a reluctant Randy who had been ambushed into
attending.

The guys manipulated the results so that the final match was between Adam
and Bob.  It dawned on Bob what was really going on and his suspicions were
confirmed when Adam won the match and panted, "Sorry, mate – it's the
only way we could think of."

And so, following the rules, Adam buckled a leather collar round the
loser's neck and Bob knelt on all fours.  But, as the three conspirators
had expected, Randy was not about to let that happen.  Fists clenched, he
strode over to Adam and snarled, "Take that fucking thing off him."

"No Randy," Adam said, "no can do.  You know the rules, mate – this is
the game we play – we run a contest and the winner takes the loser's
ass.  Tribe's rules, eh, guys?"

Randy's anger mounted.  "I don't give a shit about your damn rules, there
is no way in hell you are gonna fuck that man."  But shouts of objection
came from the other men and Randy's eyes blazed.  "OK, you wanna fuck ass,
stud?  The winner gets to fuck ass?  So fuck mine, not his.  Fuck me
instead."

It was agreed that Randy would take Bob's place and endure getting fucked
by Adam, who said, "OK, big guy, you asked for this.  Matter of fact you've
been asking for this for some time."  With an icy stare he held up the
collar, which Randy snatched from him and defiantly buckled round his own
neck.  He stripped naked and Adam growled, "On all fours, man."

Randy assumed the position on hands and knees that Bob had been in only
moments before and Adam dropped to his knees and grabbed Randy's hips from
behind.  "See, me and all the guys love Bob and when he gets hurt we get
hurt.  So this is from all of us," and he drove his dry cock deep in the
gypsy's ass.  It was immediately clear to everyone that this would be a
brutal, merciless fuck, inflicted on the tough construction boss by Adam on
behalf of the whole tribe as punishment for the way Randy had mistreated
Bob.

The other men and their boys watched spellbound, with varying feelings
ranging from satisfaction at the deserved retribution, to a desire for the
assault to be over quickly.  While Bob was in no mood to forgive Randy, it
was hard for him to watch the man he had loved so deeply get punished so
savagely.

Randy's tortured eyes were fixed on Bob who gasped as he saw tears begin to
pour down the man's cheeks.  The silent tears became sobs and the group
looked on in stunned silence at the spectacle of the tough gypsy boss
weeping as Adam's cock pistoned in his ass.

They all knew that a jack-hammering like this could never break Randy to
the point of tears.  He had withstood worse pain without a whimper.  No,
these were not tears of pain, they were tears of contrition, tears of shame
as he gazed at the man he loved and had hurt so badly.

Adam knew he had to end it.  "You've had enough, mate.  You deserved this,
and I had to do it, but you're still one hell of a man and I admire you.
Here it comes, big guy."  His cock erupted in a flood of semen that filled
the ravaged gypsy, oozing out of his ass and down his legs.

Randy slumped forward on his stomach, a broken man.  He raised his head and
through his tears saw Bob staring at him.  Exhausted as he was, Randy began
to crawl, dragging his tortured body painfully over the grass, tears
streaming down his face.  He reached forward, grabbed Bob's leg and pulled
himself the last yard until his tear-stained face was pressed against his
leg and he sobbed, "I'm sorry, man.  I'm so sorry."

Bob reached down and unbuckled the collar from around Randy's neck. A first
symbolic step on the long road to forgiveness, the spectators all hoped.
Young Ben – Randy's kid brother and Jason's boy – came up to Bob and
said timidly, "Sir, this morning Jason and me fixed up the bed in the guest
room.  If you would like to ..."  He trailed off with a shrug.

Bob smiled up at the young gypsy face.  "Thank you, Ben, that would be
great.  Could you give me a hand?" Together they helped the naked man to
his feet and supported him into the house.  In the guestroom Randy sank
onto the bed, and Ben said, "Sir, would you like some water or something
else to drink?"

Randy managed a grin.  "A Scotch would be great, kiddo, straight up."  Ben
scampered away and Randy sank back on the pillow and closed his eyes.  Ben
returned with a bottle and poured a glass. He cleared his throat, took a
deep breath and said, "Sir, I just wanna say that I love you – you're my
hero.  You were awesome out there, sir, and made me proud to be your
brother."  The gypsy boy blushed, fearing he had said too much.

"Thanks kid," Randy said, reaching over to ruffle Ben's hair.  "I needed to
hear that.  You're the best, and I'll make all this up to you one day soon,
little brother, I promise.  He downed the Scotch in one gulp, then lay back
and closed his eyes again, exhausted.  Bob hugged Ben, kissed him on the
forehead and the boy left the room.

Bob sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at Randy who, eyes still
closed, was taking deep breaths.  He had seen Randy do this before, after a
beating.  He had a knack of self-healing, restoring his bodily strength
quickly, though his self-confidence took a bit longer.

After a long silence Bob said softly, "Randy, look at me."  Randy opened
his eyes but couldn't bring himself to make eye contact.

"I said look at me, Randy."

Finally their eyes met.  "Randy, we have a long way to go to put things
right, and the first thing I'm gonna do is take you away for a few days.
I'll ask Jamie to let us use his cabin in the dunes up the coast.  We'll be
all alone up there on a deserted beach, just us two, no-one else – like
the way we were when we first met.  Sound OK?"

"Whatever you say, buddy," Randy said meekly but with a trace of a smile

"But before that," Bob continued, "there's something you have to do for me.
It's important, and you have to do it right here and now."


******************** CHAPTER 376 *********************

"Randy, I want you to fuck me."

Randy stared at Bob with a mix of surprise, some relief ... and the
stirrings of lust.  "Are you ... are you sure?"

Yes, Bob was sure.  But his request came from a motive other than desire.
He knew that after the public beating and humiliation Randy had just
endured it wasn't only his body that had been hurt – it was his pride.
His body would heal quickly, he was used to that, but there was only one
quick way to heal his wounded pride and restore his self-confidence.  Randy
was never so dominant, never so on top of his game, as when he fucked.

Not that Bob was entirely sacrificing himself on the altar of Randy's
almighty club.  After jerking off so often thinking about Randy, actually
getting the real thing would feel good.  But still, the main reason for his
suggestion was out of concern for Randy's shattered ego, which needed to be
rebuilt before anything like reconciliation could happen.

"Yes, Randy, I'm sure.  Are you turning me down?"

"Man, when did I ever turn down an opportunity to fuck your ass?" he asked
with his roguish grin that was part arrogance, part seduction.  His
machismo was stirring – so were his loins.

He pulled himself off the bed and stood facing Bob, using his eyes as usual
as a weapon of seduction.  Bob felt his dick stir – but not his heart,
not this time.  He dutifully pulled off his T-shirt, dropped his shorts and
lay on his back on the bed.  He couldn't help feeling a bit like a paid
hustler – doing a job without emotion.

Randy stood over him stroking his cock and Bob saw his stature visibly grow
as he re-inhabited the skin of a powerful top-man, a man who had been
fucked and degraded but was now assuming his rightful dominant place.  For
an instant Bob felt that familiar frisson when looking up at the naked
gypsy – but only for an instant.  This time it was just something he had
to do."

Within seconds Randy was kneeling on the bed pushing Bob's legs up.  He
didn't go in for foreplay, just aimed straight for the bullseye, a caveman
habit that Bob usually found sexy – but not this time.  There was a
difference in Randy too.

Usually he would have plunged his shaft right in at the start of a fierce
fuck.  But he was now walking on eggshells with Bob after the way he had
treated him and especially after the pounding he had endured in front of
him.  So he slid his big, thick cock in slowly, not sure exactly how Bob
wanted it this time.  And Bob's eyes, whose sparkle usually told him
exactly what he wanted, were now unusually expressionless, which confused
Randy even more.

Despite the hesitancy of both men, pure lust took the place of passion and
their dicks got hard.  As Bob knew well, lust had a will of its own and
didn't need emotion to drive it.  And so as Randy eased his cock all the
way into the ass he knew and loved so well their blood raced, their
heartbeats quickened and they moaned with the pleasure of being reunited,
if only physically, after so many times jerking off thinking of this
moment.

"Oh, man, I've missed this so much," Randy groaned.  "But I never forgot
how great my cock feels inside you.  There's no other feeling like this."
He smiled boyishly.  "Truth is, I jerked off thinking about it."

"Me too," Bob said, but even this exchange of intimacies did not spark the
depth of passion of old.  Bob reached up and ran his hands over the
rock-hard mounds of Randy's pecs and stared up at the wild gypsy face –
at the square stubbled jaw, the high cheekbones, the brow with long black
hair falling over it. Usually it was the pale blue eyes that mesmerized
him, hypnotized him, but now that mysterious union of souls that usually
joined the two lovers was absent.

But the physical excitement was enough to get them off.  Randy pushed Bob's
legs up high and pounded his ass, gazing down at the stunning superman face
and body.  Bob grabbed his own cock and stroked it to rock hardness –
and that was another change.  Most other times Randy could make Bob shoot
his load without touching his cock, but now he beat it in his fist as Randy
approached his climax.

"Man, your ass feels so good," Randy groaned.  "Shit damn, I love that ass
... it's gonna make me cum.  Oh yeah, here it is, buddy.  Fuck ... I'm
gonna cum ... I'm gonna cum ... fuuuck!"

Bob saw the muscular construction worker shudder, his eyes flashed and with
one last deep thrust his cock erupted in Bob's ass.  Bob jerked his cock
harder and faster and moaned, "Here it comes ... aaah."  With a deep sigh
he looked down and watched his cock pour semen over his own ripped abs and
heaving chest.

They had fucked, they had cum, and Bob was gratified to see the gleam of
confidence return to Randy's gaze.  The physical sensation had been
terrific, but the extraordinary passion that usually existed between the
two men was reduced to a flicker.

As always, Randy fell forward on top of Bob, then rolled off him and lay on
his back beside him.  They hadn't kissed.  Once again Bob had the fleeting
impression of being an emotionless paid hustler.  Or at best, they were
fuck buddies – like two guys who met periodically to get their rocks
off.

"Thanks, buddy," Randy panted.  "You know I needed that after all that shit
Adam put me through.  More like the old Randy, eh?"  But they both knew
that wasn't true.  The old Randy would be holding him in his arms
smothering his face with kisses, not gazing up at the ceiling side by side
as they both were now.

Randy reached over and had another hit of Scotch.  "Let's get out of here,
man," he said and Bob readily agreed.  They dressed quickly and went
outside where Adam, Pete and Jason and their boys were round the table
eating dinner with the twins.  The festive atmosphere became muted as Pete
asked, "Coming to join us, guys?"

"Nah, thanks, guys," Bob said, "thanks for the offer but we got stuff to
sort out.  We've decided to take a run up the coast tomorrow for a few
days.  Maybe use Jamie's cabin in the dunes.  So raincheck on the dinner,
if that's OK."

There was a quick round of hugs, with Randy squeezing his brother Ben
especially tight and Bob kneeling to hug Brandon.  "Thanks for persuading
Randy to stay, Brandon.  And Pete, I guess your little conspiracy worked
out, eh?  You kinda got the ball rolling, but now the ball's in our court,
Randy and me."

"Good luck with that, guys," Pete smiled.  "We'll be rooting for you."

As the men left, walking a few feet apart, Pete turned to Adam and Jason
and said, "Wow, not exactly brimming over with passion.  So what d'ya
think, guys, what are their chances?"

"About 50-50 I'd say at this point," Jason guessed, but Brandon squeezed
Ben's hand and grinned at the twins.  "We think they'll be just fine,"
Brandon said.  "They have to be," Ben added boldly.  "Wouldn't be a tribe
without Randy and Bob at the top."

***************************************

When the two men got back to the tribe's house Mark and Jamie were sitting
at a table by the pool sipping wine.  Mark walked up to them and hugged
them in turn.  "Come sit with us a while, guys," Mark said.  "We're all
alone in the house."

The men joined them and as Jamie poured the wine Mark said with a grin, "As
you would probably guess we already know what went down at Jason's house.
Brandon called Jamie, then his pal Eddie and ... it's on the grapevine."

"Yeah, I thought it would be," Bob said, managing a watery smile.

"Look, guys," Mark said, "you know I love you both – I'm in love with
you.  Hell, we're kind of a threesome.  So I want you to know where I
stand.  Actually a little apart is where I stand right now, letting you
guys sort things out.  This is the kind of stuff only you two can resolve,
but you know that I'm here to help however I can."

"Thanks, buddy," Randy said, "that means a lot.  However this turns out you
will always be our best buddy, Mark."

"Actually," Bob said, "there is one thing you could do.  Randy and I are
getting out of town for a few days and, Jamie, we wondered if we could use
the shack in the dunes that Mark gave you."

Jamie smiled warmly.  "Guys, you know you don't have to ask a question like
that.  Of course it's yours for as long as you want it."

"Actually I think that's a great idea," Mark said.  "That place has a way
of working its magic.  Remember, Jamie, all those years ago?  That's where
I rescued you from the waves and gave you the kiss of life.  And when you
opened your eyes we were in love."

"Well, we're gonna hit the sack," Bob said.  "We wanna make an early start
in the morning."

They went into the house together and Mark heaved a big sigh.  "There's
still a lot wrong there, Jaimie.  They may have fucked before they left
Jason's but that vibe they always had is not there anymore.  Did you feel
the chill?"

"I sure did.  But like you said, it's something only they can work out –
if it's still possible."  Jamie smiled, "At least the twins are convinced
everything's gonna be OK.  You know how those two are ... I swear they've
got second sight sometimes.  'Course, they're totally in love with Bob so
they can't even imagine him staying unhappy for long."

Mark was gazing at him with a longing, lustful look that Jamie knew only
too well.  "Hey," Mark said, "you wanna go for a swim?"

"Do I have a choice?" Jamie grinned.

"No."  Mark stood up, pulled off Jamie's swim trunks and tank top, grabbed
the naked young surfer jock and tossed him bodily into the pool.  Mark
stripped off his own clothes and dived in after him.  They swam a few
competitive laps, then suddenly Mark pushed Jamie under the water and held
him as he struggled for several seconds before releasing him.

Jamie shot to the surface, sputtering and laughing, and Mark simulated
alarm.  "Oh Jesus.  Just relax boy ... I'll take care of you."  He scooped
Jamie up in his arms, walked up the steps out of the pool and laid him on
the grass.  He knelt over him and Jamie stared up excitedly at the muscular
cop, realizing the act he was putting on.

"Remember when I pulled you out of the sea and did this?"  Mark lowered his
head and clamped his open mouth over Jamie's, breathing in and out slowly
and deeply in a simulated kiss of life.  Jamie's body shuddered and his
dick grew rock hard as he felt the warmth of Mark's body over him and
breathed the same air.

Finally Mark pulled away and smiled.  "When your eyes opened you looked
into mine and we saw something new ... something we still see today.  We
didn't know it at the time but we were in love.  I picked you up, carried
you into the shack and laid you on the bed.  You stared up at me and you
knew that from then on you were the cop's boy.  Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Jamie smiled, then his voice grew harder.  "But that
was then, buddy.  Over the years I grew up and now ..."  His muscles
flexed, he reached up, grabbed Mark's shoulders and heaved him off him,
over onto his back on the grass.

Their positions reversed, Jamie knelt over him and gazed down at the
surprised cop.  "I was a nervous young guy back then but your surfer boy
grew up, and now it's you on your back, officer.  And your `boy' is gonna
fuck your ass."  Jamie pushed one of Mark's legs up, pressed his hard wet
cock against his ass and slowly drove it in.

"Oh shit," Mark sighed.  "Yeah you have grown up, buddy ... and I love it.
You look so fucking beautiful and, damn, your cock feels good inside me.
Fuck me, man."

Mark stretched his arms out to the sides and Jamie leaned forward and
braced his hands on his biceps.  Their faces were close, close enough for
Jamie to bend down and kiss while he massaged Mark's ass with his cock.

Lost in each other's euphoria they were unaware they were being observed
from an upstairs window.  While Randy was in the shower Bob was standing at
the window of the master bedroom gazing down at the two beautiful blonds
– the Greek God cop and his muscular surfer boy.  It was an iconic scene
of two men in love, the intense kind of love that Bob feared he had lost
... and he mourned its passing.

He could hear them too, moaning in ecstasy, talking of love as they gazed
into each other's eyes just as Bob and Randy used to do.  It was
bitter-sweet for Bob to watch but he couldn't tear himself away.  He, Randy
and Mark had been a unique threesome but now the difference between Mark
and Randy was stark for Bob.  Mark loved Bob, as much as he loved Jamie,
while Randy had become reduced to the status of fuck buddy.

So Bob watched, stroking his cock, as the two gorgeous men made love and
approached their climax.  These were no fuck buddies – they were lovers,
two men in the grip of passion, making love as much with their eyes as
their cocks.  He saw their lips touch, heard their sighs, heard the
exhilaration in their cries, "I'm gonna cum ... I'm real close ... cum with
me, buddy ... now!"

Bob tensed as he saw their bodies flex, heard their shouts of ecstasy as
Mark's cock erupted all over his magnificent body and Jamie obviously was
pouring his semen into his lover's ass.  Jamie pulled out, kneeled up
straight and stroked the last jets cum from his cock, aiming it at Mark's
rugged face.  Then they laughed, joyous laughter, as Jamie fell onto Mark
and they rolled over the grass in each other's arms, blissfully in love.

Bob turned away from the window with tears in his eyes.  He heard the
shower turn off and quickly wiped his eyes dry as Randy came out of the
bathroom toweling off.  Randy hesitated, looking from one bed to the other.
"Do you, er, do you want ..."

"Yeah, kinda stupid to sleep apart.  I'll have Darius and the boys remove
the extra bed.  We can sleep together but I'm real bushed so ..."

His meaning was clear and when they got into bed Bob turned on his side
away from Randy.  Randy sighed and lay on his side too, back to back –
their backs not even touching.

Their backs were only inches apart, but the real gulf between them was as
wide as ever.

*********************************

In the morning they woke early but, as always, not earlier than the twins
who knocked on the door and came in with breakfast trays, which they
arranged on the table by the window.

"Sir," Kyle said, "we've made lots of food and packed it up for you to
snack on during the drive up the coast, and it should keep you going while
you're up there."  Kevin added, "That way you won't have to cook in the
shack's little kitchen and won't have to always eat out in that old Mexican
joint in the village."

Bob smiled, "You two are the best, you know that?  I'll miss your smiling
faces, but at least our absence will lighten your workload a bit."

"Oh no, sir, we have a lot of planning to do," Kyle said, with a
conspiratorial grin to his brother.

Bob frowned, not clear what they meant, but the twins left and Randy and
Bob sat facing each other by the window.  Breakfast was mostly a silent
affair, with Bob glancing frequently out of the window.  Randy couldn't
know why Bob was staring down at the lawn, empty now, but he was still
seeing the image of Mark and Jamie making love.  Randy also couldn't
understand that the deep sigh Bob heaved was a sigh of regret for love
lost.

They got dressed and packed the few things they would need at the dunes,
then went down to where the twins were already loading supplies in Randy's
truck.  Pablo was there too to lend encouragement and support to the man he
idolized, and helped Randy load the rowboat into the truck.  While they
were doing that Bob puled the twins aside for a few final instructions.

"Oh, and by the way guys, what did you mean earlier about having a lot of
planning to do?"

"Well, the feast, sir," Kyle said, as if surprised that Bob hadn't
understood.  "When you guys get back there'll be a lot to celebrate and the
whole tribe will expect one of those big feasts, so we're already planning
the menus."

Bob smiled affectionately.  "You two seem pretty sure of yourselves.  What
makes you think there'll be lots to celebrate?"

"Oh sir," Kevin said with a hint of exasperation.  "Of course there will
be.  We were not born yesterday and we know exactly how things will turn
out.  Trust us, sir, it'll be a big celebration, so why don't you hit the
road and leave us alone to plan it?"

Bob hugged them both tight.  "God, I love you guys.  OK, I'll trust your
instincts.  Just keep your fingers crossed."

"No need, sir," Kevin smiled.  "Good thing too `cos it's tricky to cook
with your fingers crossed."

While Bob chuckled, Randy was giving Pablo a man-size hug.  "Don't worry,
sir," Pablo said.  "Darius and me will make sure everything runs OK while
you're gone.  And you know I'll be here waiting for you when you get back."

"I know you will, buddy.  Like I always say, you're my rock."

Randy and Bob got in the truck and it peeled away down the hill with loving
eyes watching it go.  Pablo grinned at the twins and raised two pairs of
firmly crossed fingers.

********************************

And so they were on their way – they knew where to, but were not sure
why or what they expected at the other end.

They were in Randy's big truck and he was driving of course.  Whatever else
happened certain habits were unchangeable, one being that when they went
anywhere Randy drove in his truck.  The atmosphere in the cab was
predictably tense for the first half hour or so, but as they sped north on
the 101 Freeway and buildings gave way to hilly countryside the pressures
of the city eased and they breathed easier.

Their minds that had been crowded with raw and conflicting emotions began
to clear, leaving room to evaluate.  It was a bit like meditation as the
miles slipped by under them and they were better able to confront the
tangled issues before them.

Randy spoke first and typically went straight to the heart of the matter.
"Is it gone, buddy?"

They both knew he was referring to the special passion, the magic that had
sparked between them right from the first day they met.  Circumstances then
had been wildly different and since then they had been on a wild ride, a
journey fraught with lust, love, anger, recrimination, forgiveness – the
whole repertoire of human emotions, especially acute because they were two
strong-willed, equally dominant alpha males.

But underneath it all was the unexplainable union of souls that had bound
them together and was seemingly unbreakable.  Until recently.  Maybe it was
the very weight of emotion that made it buckle ... maybe the flame had
burned so hot that, at some point, it had to flicker and cool.  Or maybe,
more likely, it was simply that one of them had broken the mold and had,
however briefly, fallen in love with another man.  The unbreakable had
broken.

"So, buddy ... is it gone?" Randy asked again, dreading the reply.

But Bob was non-committal.  "I don't know Randy.  That's what we've come up
here to find out."

At least it wasn't a definite answer.  At least it gave Randy breathing
space, and his shoulders relaxed.

As he usually did on the highway he steered with his left hand and let his
other arm drop to the armrest between them.  He inadvertently touched Bob's
hand and instantly pulled away as if he had been scalded by a hot iron.  It
had been the same during the night when their backs had touched and they
reflexively recoiled, even in their sleep.

Bob sighed.  "Randy, this is ridiculous.  Surely we're not afraid to touch
each other.  Hell, yesterday you were fucking my ass.  OK, I know that was,
well ... what is was ... but surely we can touch at least.  No matter where
we go from here, we can still be friends can't we?"

"Shit, man, you sound like a guy breaking up with a lover who comes out
with those killing words, `I hope we can still be friends."

They managed a grin and Bob said, "I know, that word `friends' can be one
of the warmest words in the English language but sometimes sound the most
pathetic.  But we can touch, can't we?  Please, Randy, please touch my
hand."

If this is what it was to be – progress in tiny increments – so be
it.  Randy rested his hand on Bob's on the armrest and kept it there for
the whole of the rest of the journey, except when he needed both hands to
drive.  And that contact, slight as it was, was reassuring, as if they
could feel the blood flowing through each other's veins.  They were alive,
at least ... and together.

And that minimal contact somehow rendered words unnecessary, so most of the
rest of the ride was in silence – no words, just tangled thoughts.  And
that silence became more comfortable as the miles sped by – sitting
wordlessly side by side as they used to in the old days.

Over two hours later Randy at last swung off the 101 Freeway and took the
small dusty road into the small town of Guadalupe, then turned left on Main
Street all the way until it dead-ended at the dunes.  Even then he didn't
stop but turned onto the sandy track that ran behind the dunes and finally
pulled to a halt behind the small, remote shack that was Jamie's.

After so long in the roar of the freeway they wallowed for a moment in the
silence and stillness of the dunes.  Randy turned to Bob and said, "Well,
buddy, we're here."  He leaned over and kissed Bob lightly on the cheek
– another small increment.

*********************************

Together they unloaded their gear from the truck, including the rowboat
that they carried round to the front of the shack.  Using the key Jamie had
given him, Bob unlocked the door and they went in.  "Phew," Bob said,
"looks like Mark and Jamie left in a hurry last time they were here."

He straightened the bedcovers and picked up several strewn items of
clothing – including Mark's black tank top that always looked so good
stretched over his muscular torso.  Instinctively Bob raised the shirt to
his nose and inhaled deeply, then instantly tossed it aside, regretting his
impulsive action as he saw Randy's pained look.

It was like walking through a minefield, where every small step could
accidently trigger some quirk of memory that caused pain.  The room was
heavily redolent of Mark, which troubled Randy.  He reacted by asking, "You
hungry, buddy?"

"Actually, yeah, I am."

"What say we go get some lunch in that little Mexican place in the
village?"

"Sure.  The twins packed a lot of food but we can save that for later.  OK,
let's go."

As they tramped through the sand back to the village the atmosphere between
them was tense again.  It had been the reminder of Mark, recalling how
great he looked in that tank, even breathing in his scent in the room that
had not been aired for weeks.

In the past, when their relationship had been solid, Mark had declared his
love for both of them and they had become a threesome, hanging out
together, indulging in exotic three-way sex.  But now Randy was fearful
that Bob might easily transfer his affections away from him altogether and
onto Mark.

The same prospect had occurred to Bob when he mechanically smelled Mark's
shirt and got an instant hard-on, which had eluded him sitting next to
Randy on the drive here.

After all, it was Mark that Bob had gone to automatically when Randy's lust
for Miguel became known.  They had spent nights together and Bob sought
solace in loving sex with the handsome cop.  That was the tipping point
where Bob could easily have deserted Randy for Mark, but something had
pulled him back from that precipice.  But now, as they walked to the
village, Mark loomed large in both their minds, with all the attendant
dangers the memory stirred up.

It was a relief to suddenly be in the company of others as they walked into
the small, rustic Mexican restaurant, where they were instantly greeted by
the owner, a plump, motherly woman who recognized them instantly from their
previous visits.  "Ah, mis hombres favoritos," she said with a big
gold-toothed smile.  Randy y Bob, hermosos com siempre."

"Esmeralda, you temptress," Randy beamed, "come give your favorite man a
hug." He wrapped his strong arms around her, lifted her off the ground and
swung her round.  "I swear, one of these days I'm gonna snatch you away
from your husband and carry you off into the dunes."  As she blushed and
giggled Bob gave her a more modest hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Esmeralda seated them and presented them with menus.  Randy was now in his
element and took charge.  "OK," he said to her, "chicken fajitas with all
the trimmings for both of us, and a pitcher of your excellent margaritas."

"Cuervo Gold, senor?"

Randy shot her another dazzling smile.  "What else, patrona?"

She blushed again and hurried away.  Bob looked at Randy ... and his heart
leapt.  Randy was now taking charge, but what Bob saw in him was the eager
young boy who always made him melt – this time a young man eager to
impress his date by ordering confidently from the menu.  It was that odd
mix of confidence and vulnerability that he had fallen in love with.

And it confused him, one more element thrown into the cauldron of
disappointment, resentment, physical lust and now, fleetingly, affection.
As Randy glanced at him Bob saw in the blue eyes not so much the usual
sexual charisma, as a need to be loved.

The food arrived and, with help from the margaritas, the prior coolness
between them melted just a fraction.  Their previous silence was replaced
by a run-of-the-mill conversation about the construction company, the boys,
Pablo's growing maturity, the twins' fraternal love.  But they were still
walking on eggshells, careful to avoid any topics that referred even
remotely to the problem between them.

So there was no real depth to their conversation.  They were still being
just buddies, like two friends or colleagues lunching together and talking
business.  Bob's fleeting glimpse of the old Randy had not been enough to
overcome the bitterness that still lingered.

Still, their walk back over the dunes to the shack was an improvement over
the walk in the other direction, overshadowed as it had been by thoughts of
Mark and the uncertainty he caused.  At least their friendship was being
repaired, though the greater challenge of restoring their love still seemed
like a distant possibility.

When they reached the shack Bob suggested they work off the meal with a run
along the beach.  Zack had an old shack a couple of miles down the beach,
and it was customary when any of the tribe visited one of the shacks that
they checked in on the other cabin, as they often remained empty for months
at a time.  So Bob said, "We should drop in on Zack's place – make sure
it hasn't washed away or burned to the ground or something."

"I've got a better idea," Randy said.  "Given a choice of going by land or
sea, I prefer the water.  Let's take the boat out and row down there."

They certainly were not about to argue about mundane details like that, so
they stripped down to their swim trunks and carried the boat down to the
surf.  "Get in," Randy said.  Bob jumped in and Randy's body flexed as he
pushed the boat out, then leapt in and grabbed the oars.  Bob sat in the
stern with the tiller, facing Randy who rowed strongly.

Being out on the ocean somehow removed them even farther from the scene of
their recent troubles, distancing them from the land, the truck, the shack,
memories of Mark.  Bob sighed and, with the course set, closed his eyes for
a while.

As he daydreamed his mind wandered to the image of Randy greeting
Esmeralda, then ordering their food with all the eager confidence of a
teenager on a date.  He even felt a stirring of his cock at the thought,
but that didn't last.  Until he opened his eyes."

The sea was quite choppy, calling for greater effort on the part of the
rower, and Bob now stared at the stunning sight of the big, muscular gypsy,
naked except for his shorts, putting all his strength into the effort.  As
he pulled on the oars it seemed that every muscle in the construction
worker's body was bulging with the strain.  Spray flecked his chiseled
physique with foam, his face was set with a clenched stubbled jaw, his long
black hair flying over his intense blue eyes.

How many times in the past had Bob gazed at this superb specimen of rugged
manhood?  How many times had he cum just staring at him, how many times
jerked off fantasizing about him?  As he stared at him now Bob's mind flew
back to when they first met, of Randy in the motel, blazing with anger at
him, tying him up and punishing him with all his raw caveman ferocity.

It was as if his whole life with Randy flashed before his eyes as he gazed
at the object of his dreams and fantasies.  All the homoerotic images of
this iconic male, one after another, culminated in this moment where they
were alone, on the sea, and Bob was staring at the powerful muscle-god, at
his rock hard shoulders, bulging biceps, sculpted chest and ripped abs as
he strained to keep the boat on an even course.

Randy was totally focused on his task, often closing his eyes with the
physical effort, so he didn't notice the intensity in Bob's eyes, didn't
notice the tension in his body, didn't see it jolt and, over the sound of
the waves, didn't hear Bob's low gasp as his cock erupted in his shorts.

He had cum ... he had shot his load just looking at this man who had, for
so many years, lusted for him, protected him, frustrated him and, above
all, had loved him with a passion neither of them understood.  Bob
struggled to stay calm – physically so Randy wouldn't notice, and
mentally so he could adjust to this new element that crowded into his
already conflicted mind.

**************************************

When they came level with Zack's shack they waded ashore, pulling the boat,
and Bob was relieved to see the water wash away all traces of the cum
stains from his orgasm.  They went up to the shack and Bob unlocked the
door with the key Zack had given him, which he had on the same chain as
Jamie's key.  Everything was intact and Randy spent several minutes going
round inside and outside with the practiced eye of a construction expert.

Bob stayed on the terrace, gazing out to sea, wrestling with his chaotic
thoughts.  He was so distracted that he jumped when Randy said,
"Everything's cool.  Let's get back."  As Bob went down the steps from the
patio Randy shouted, "Hey, watch that middle step, don't put any weight on
it.  The wood's rotted, it's about to give."

Randy's protective instincts – they never wavered, and Bob had come to
depend on them.  He had even found it sexy that the big man was watching
over him, one more reason he had loved and admired him.  He avoided the
step as instructed and as they walked down to the water Randy muttered,
"I'll come down here tomorrow and fix it.  It's dangerous."

Bob rowed part of the way back but after a while Randy grinned, "Hey, at
this rate we won't get back before dark.  Better let an expert take over.
So he rowed the rest of the way and soon they were pulling the boat up to
Jamie's shack.  Randy went inside for beers and they both sank into the
Adirondack chairs of the patio.

They were not sure what came next as they sat silently, both of them
wrapped in thought.

Randy felt they had made progress, with the easing of tension in the
restaurant and the conversation which, although lacking their past
intimacy, was at least friendly.  Randy knew what he wanted, he wanted Bob
back.  He had behaved badly and would do anything to undo the damage he had
caused.  But he had to admit that the old magic was missing.  He had never
understood where it came from and now didn't understand where it had gone.
But it had gone.

Bob was much more confused, his previous anger so deeply ingrained in him
that he could see nothing, no event or feeling, that could drive it away.
Sure, there had been glimpses – his fleeting affection for that little
boy image he had always loved so much; then that sudden surge of lust in
the boat where the sight of Randy had made him cum without even touching
himself.  But that was not enough.  It seemed there was no bridge between
this sterile friendship and the intense passion of the past.

"I would say penny for your thoughts, buddy," Randy said, "except I'm not
sure I want to know."

"And they would cost much more than a penny," Bob smiled weakly, `cos I'm
not even sure what they are."

Randy's very presence made it hard for Bob to think.  He needed space, time
alone to try to make sense of it all.  Maybe he should even spend the night
alone in Zack's shack.  He tapped the pocket of his shorts and suddenly
jumped up.  "Dammit, I've lost the keys.  Jamie's and Zack's on the same
key-ring."

"Must've dropped out in the boat," Randy said and they went to search but
found nothing.

"Shit, I know what happened.  I left them on the table on Zack's patio.
Fuck."

"No problem, we'll run back down there and get them."

Bob hesitated, then said, "No Randy, it was my mistake so I'll go.
Actually, I need a little time to myself, so a run will do me good
... clear the mind maybe.  I won't be long."

And with that brief word he was gone, leaving Randy more concerned than
ever.  No hug, no smile, no warmth.  Bob wanted to be alone ... now, and
maybe forever?"  He watched the figure of his former lover getting smaller
in the distance as he ran further away ... away from him.  And when the
small figure faded and disappeared in the distant spray mist Randy felt
more bereft than he had ever felt in his life.

**********************************

Contrary to his hopes Bob's run solved nothing.  Still the same churn of
conflicting thoughts that he tried, and failed, to analyze.

The truth dawned on him that this was not a matter of intellectual
reasoning, but depth of feeling, feelings that defied analysis.  Just as
their first spark of love had been incomprehensible so was its flickering
out.  Bob knew that you can't force feelings, can't argue your way in and
out of them.  So there was nothing either of them could do.  Maybe the
flame was really gone, and it would take nothing less than divine
intervention to rekindle it.

Engrossed in thought Bob was surprised to find himself approaching Zack's
shack.  He slowed down to a walk and went up onto the patio.  Sure enough,
there were the keys on the table where he had absent-mindedly left them,
distracted as he had been by his muddled mind.

He put them in his pocket, sat down and gazed out to sea.  So here he was,
alone, feeling totally empty.  Was this the way it was going to be from
here on?  Maybe he should, after all, sleep the night in Zack's shack to
get a feel of what loneliness was like.  No, that would be cruel to Randy.
If he was to make the final break it would be face to face, agonizing as
that would be.

He stood up, sighed deeply, then walked down the steps.  There was a sharp
crack, the broken middle step collapsed, and his leg fell through.  He lost
his balance and wrenched himself round as his foot hit the sand under the
stairs.  "Aaagh."  The pain was agonizing as he lay sprawled on the steps,
his right foot twisted underneath him.

Despite the pain he forced himself to lean down and feel his ankle.  No
protruding bones, no fracture, just a badly twisted ankle – hopefully
not too bad to walk on.  He pulled himself up on the supporting pole of the
patio and put his foot tentatively on the ground.  Pain shot right up to
his thigh and he fell to the sand.

He tried to stand again but the pain was even worse.  He knew he couldn't
walk.  Instinctively he looked up for Randy – and the truth dawned on
him.  He was alone, it was what he had wanted.  Randy was two miles away,
waiting for him.  And when he didn't show up Randy would assume that he was
staying the night at Zack's, that it was all over.

It was all over?  "No!" he yelled to the wind.  He wanted Randy here, he
needed him ... he needed him, suddenly more than ever before.  On his knees
Bob clung to the pole, feeling that his world had crashed in on him.  That
world where he had been happier than ever before in his life, a world where
he loved and was loved, with the kind of love that `passeth all
understanding'.

That world had been in Technicolor – his current existence was a washed
out sepia.  What had he been thinking?  He started to sob at the
hopelessness of it all.  He needed Randy, he had to get to him.  He had no
cell phone so there was only one way to reach him.

Slowly, painfully he dragged himself down to the sea and let the cold water
wash over his damaged ankle, bringing slight relief.  Then he gazed into
the distance, the interminable distance, and started to crawl ... along the
wet sand, on his belly – his eyes searching the mist for the invisible
spot where Randy was waiting for him.

**********************************

Randy had taken a nap, a shallow sleep bedeviled with dreams of frustration
and abandonment.  Something woke him with a start but when he opened his
eyes he saw only the seagulls wheeling over them.  Must of have been their
screeching.  He looked at the time.  Bob must be back – maybe behind the
shack at the truck.  But there was no sound from there.

Randy pulled himself to his feet, shaded his eyes and looked along the
length of the beach.  Nothing.  An immense sadness swept over him.  That
was it.  Bob must have decided to call it quits and spend the night alone
at the shack.  That was the only explanation, otherwise he would have been
back by now.  Unless ...

Suddenly another feeling consumed him.  Trouble ... Bob could be in
trouble.  Was it just his paranoia, his overly protective impulse, or
wishful thinking that Bob had not deliberately left him?  No ... his sense
of foreboding intensified, it was not imagined – it was real.  He could
almost hear Bob's voice, an eerie sort of telepathy he had experienced in
the good old days.

The good old days.  He wanted them back ... he loved Bob, and somehow he
knew that, despite all the bullshit, Bob loved him too.  The real kind of
love, not the watered-down `buddy' crap they had been going through the
last few days.  What if Bob needed him, needed his protection?  His mind
raced.  He could take the truck, but driving behind the dunes he would not
see along the length of the beach.  Only one thing to do.  "Hang in there,
buddy – I'm coming."

******************************

Bob was struggling.  His arms were already tired from dragging himself
forward.  He had tried the dry sand but that was even harder so he returned
to the wet sand at water's edge.  Even so he had managed to go barely a
hundred yards.  Two miles to go.  He paused to catch his breath and yelled
in desperation "Randy," but only the seagulls replied with their callous
screech.

In the past Randy had always protected him, had always folded his arms
round him, made him feel safe, never threatened.  He had always come when
he was in trouble ... and he was in trouble now.  He imagined his arms
round him now, imagined his deep soothing voice, imagined his eyes, those
loving blue eyes that he longed to look into again.

The hopelessness of his predicament sapped his energy and he dropped his
head on the sand.  He was not sure how long he lay there, but then
something made him look up.  His eyes peered into the distant mist ... and
he saw it ... a small speck almost lost in the spray.  He fixed his eyes on
it, fearing that if he looked away it would disappear.  But instead it grew
larger ... it was a man running ... Randy.

In his sob of relief there was confusion too.  He had been so cold to
Randy, so distant.  How would Randy react?  Just a mercy rescue that he
would do for anyone?  No matter ... he was coming ... Randy was coming.
With his last reserves of adrenaline he crawled forward again frantically,
trying to lessen the distance.  But his ankle was throbbing, his strength
failed and he again fell exhausted on his face in the sand.

He must have passed out for a few seconds because the next thing he heard
was, "Buddy, what happened?  Don't move ... let me ..."  He felt hands hold
him and gently push him over on his back.  Bob opened his eyes and found
himself staring into those mesmerizing blue eyes ... eyes he loved ... eyes
in which he could see his own reflection ... at last.

"Randy," he stammered.  "I'm sorry ... the things I said ... the way I
... I didn't mean ..."

"Buddy," came the calm, resonant voice.  "I love you, I always have.  I
never stopped.  Now tell me what happened."

Bob swallowed hard and came to his senses.  "That step, the broken one.  It
broke, I fell.  Twisted my ankle ... bad sprain, can't walk.  Please, leave
me here, go get the truck and come back for me."

"And leave you here alone?  Hell no."  Randy had been kneeling beside him
and now got up on one knee, slid his arms under Bob's back and lifted him,
pulling himself up on his feet with Bob lying in his arms.  "I'll never
leave you again, Bob.  You're coming with me."

"You can't, Randy.  You can't carry me ... it's two miles."

"I don't care if it's twenty fucking miles.  You're my man and I'm taking
you home."

Bob sighed with infinite relief and allowed himself to relax in Randy's
strong arms.  He gazed up at the resolute face, at the strong, stubbled jaw
clenched in determination.  Mostly Randy stared steadily ahead, but when he
dropped his gaze to Bob there was a smile in his pale blue eyes.

Bob was a big man, packed with solid muscle, but never once did Randy
falter, never once gave in to fatigue.  He didn't even feel the weight
... `he ain't heavy, he's my lover'.

In what seemed like no time to Bob, Randy was carrying him up the steps of
Jamie's shack and laid him gently on the bed.  "Now let's take a look at
that foot."  He prodded it, Bob groaned, and Randy said, "Yeah, nasty
sprain like you said.  It'll be sore for a few days is all.  I'll care of
it."

He grabbed one of his own T-shirts from the bed and tore it into strips
that he ran under the cold tap, squeezed out and wound carefully and
expertly round Bob's foot and ankle.  "That's better, a cold compress.  Now
for your medicine."  From a box on the floor he pulled out the brandy
bottle the twins had loaded in their supplies.  He poured a large one for
Bob, and for himself, and they clinked glasses.  "Many Happy Returns, Bob,"
Randy grinned and they drank deeply.

When they had drained their glasses Bob began, "Randy, I ..."

"No, buddy, be quiet.  No more talk, no more bullshit.  I'm in charge now
and – first things first – I'm gonna make love to you ... I mean
really make love.  It's about time."

"But ..."

"But nothing. I won't hurt you. Matter of fact I won't ever hurt you
again. Well," he grinned, "I'll do my level best.  And don't worry about
the foot.  It should be raised up anyway ... so I'll raise it."

In fact he raised both of them, carefully, and hooked Bob's legs over his
shoulders.  Then he reached in his backpack for a jar of lube.  "Yeah, me
and lube," he grinned.  "Not something you see every day of the week.  But
this is a special occasion ... and I'm doing my best not to hurt you –
like I promised."


He dipped his fingers in the lube and greased up his cock.  "See, hard
already.  It was hard all the way along the beach.  The thought of pushing
it on your ass is what kept me going."

The man was amazing.  It was as if the shackles of shame that had
restrained him these last days had fallen away and he was free to be Randy,
with that self-confidence bordering on arrogance that Bob had come to love.
"OK, buddy, we'll forget that bullshit mercy fuck you asked me to give you
last night.  The real thing's been a while, but you remember the drill.
Look into my eyes."

Bob already was ... staring into the hypnotic blue eyes set in the chiseled
gypsy features that radiated sex appeal.  Suddenly Bob's sepia world turned
to Technicolor, like Dorothy stepping out of her monochrome house into the
dazzling colors of Oz, he thought to himself.  His own sense of humor and
whimsy had returned.

The full enormity of his obstinate pride hit him and he said, "Randy, I'm
so sorry that I ...

"Hey, that'll be enough of that.  No more sorry, no more regrets, no more
fuckin bullshit.  I love you man – can't live without you.  And you
can't live without me.  Look at the mess you just got yourself into.  So
you're gonna stay with me even if I have to chain you to the wall."

"Promise, promises ..."

"Yeah, well that'll have to wait.  Right now I'm gonna make love to you,
win you back.  And it goes something like this."  He pushed his cock
between Bob's ass cheeks and slowly, gently, eased it inside him.  Bob
breathed deeply and his heart beat faster as he felt his lover's thick
shaft sliding inside him, deeper and deeper until it came to rest and he
felt Randy's wiry pubic hair pressing against his butt.

"Back where it belongs," Randy smiled, keeping his cock buried deep "Let me
look at you, you gorgeous hunk."

And they did look, barely blinking, staring deep into each other's eyes.
And it was back – the magic was back.  They saw themselves reflected in
each other's eyes, reflected endlessly like infinity mirrors as they gazed
into each other, soul-deep.

"Stuff like this don't go away, buddy," Randy said in his deep, gentle
voice.  "You can't kill this ever ... even if I sometimes do a damn good
job of trying," he grinned.  "Man, you and me, when we found each other all
those years ago, that was it, forever.  Sure, we have our ups and downs,
but this ... this will never go away.  Nor will this ..."

He pulled his cock slowly all the way back, paused, then eased it in again
gently so Bob felt it filling his ass, inch by inch by inch.  Randy leaned
forward and Bob reached up and touched the dark gypsy face, from the neck,
over the stubbled chin, the high cheekbones, the eyes, forehead, and then
ran his hands through the long black hair.

"I love you Randy, of course I do.  How could I ever think it had stopped?
All that other stuff is in a different world.  This is our world, the real
world, and we're gonna live here always.  Kiss me, Randy.  Kiss me like you
always did."

Randy lowered his face and their lips met.  With his tongue, Randy opened
Bob's mouth and sealed it with his, so they were breathing the same air,
back and forth, a kiss of life.  And all the time Randy's cock moved in and
out, caressing the tender membrane of the ass he worshipped.

At last Randy pulled his mouth back and smiled again into his lover's eyes.
"This is all it takes, buddy.  Just this.  He stopped still, his cock
buried deep, and said again, "This is all it takes, Bob.  Look at me
... make me cum in your ass ... make me cum."  He gazed into the soft brown
eyes ... and he was right, that's all it took.  "I'm gonna cum ... here it
is, buddy ..."

Bob pressed his palms on Randy's chest and said simply, "I love you,
Randy."  It was like a still life, two beautiful men staring into each
other's eyes, the only movement a slight blink as Randy poured his semen
inside Bob, and Bob's juice spurted upward and splashed onto Randy's
heaving chest.

And still it poured out, as if the love they had been suppressing finally
came alive in the stillness of this small room where the only sounds were
their deep sighs, and the distant hiss of waves breaking on the shore.

************************************

They lay in each other's arms for a long time, and no words were spoken.
They didn't want to break the spell.  But they both knew now that the spell
was unbreakable, no matter how often their human frailties made them
stumble.

Finally Bob stirred and smiled at Randy.  "You know the only guys who were
sure it would end like this were the twins.  In fact they were so sure they
are planning a big celebration.  They're probably working on the menus
right now.  I hope you're ready, `cos it'll be a big one.  Probably have to
hold it at the Grady House to coincide with the premiere of Grady's movie."

"Well, let them do their thing," Randy grinned.  "I'd be just as happy to
stay right here forever, just the two of us."

"Me too, but we've gotta rejoin the land of the living at some point," Bob
chuckled.  "And one of the first things we have to do is make our peace
with Zack and Miguel."

"Yeah, you're right.  I almost fucked things up real good between those
two.  Hey, maybe the four of us should take our boys on a weekend trip to
see Uncle Mike and his boy Larry out in Palm Springs.  Haven't seen or
heard from them in a long time."

"Great idea, Randy."

"But right now," Randy continued, "job one is for me to take care of you
and that bad ankle.  You won't be too mobile for a while so you'll have to
depend on me.  You ready for some tender loving care?"

"Well, loving sure.  But don't go overboard on the tender.  Maybe it's time
that caveman crawled out of his hole."

"You are such an asshole," Randy grinned.  "God I've missed you.  Welcome
home, buddy."

**********************************

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial of Strength" – Chapter 377


Hey guys, this is Rob Williams.  I hope that chapter got you off, and I
welcome your comments and suggestions, which can be very helpful in
planning future chapters.  E-mail me in confidence at rw6789@aol.com.

ALSO, I invite you to visit my Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You can
read the whole story, all the many chapters, with extras, including
pictures and biographies of all the characters.  Click on the `Our Story'
tab to read the current chapter, or click on the green button to browse all
the chapter synopses.  Enjoy

AND DON'T FORGET – if you enjoy these stories PLEASE DONATE to this
site.  Nifty needs your donations to provide these thousands of wonderful
stories.  So please go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html and give what
you can.  I and all the other authors thank you.  ... Rob