Date: Fri, 28 Oct 2022 02:18:09 +0000 (UTC)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial of Strength" - part 616  by Rob Williams

Chapter 616 – ""RANDY PROVES HE'S KING OF THE GYPSIES"

Bob becomes the lawyer of sexy movie star Grady and they seal the deal with
wild hardcore sex. But this makes Bob neglect his lover, the fierce gypsy
Randy, who reasserts his sexual dominance. Then Randy deals with
Grady. Lying naked on the grass the muscle-jock gazes up at the swarthy
bare-chested construction boss, a toolbelt slung low on his hips. "What you
gonna do to me, man?"
___________________________________________________________________

IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Action movie-star Grady had returned from a grueling week's filming on
location and told his lover Mario he was quitting the movie business –
he would not star in the next in a series of lifeguard movies that was
currently in contract negotiations.

He explained to his lover, "The thing that really depresses me, Mario, is
all the negotiations over my new contract – the pay, the conditions, the
demands.  I have to keep going to meetings with my lawyer and I don't
understand shit what he's saying.  My agent is fine, she's been with me
right from the start, but at this level it's the lawyers who do all the
talking and she's a bit out of her depth.

"My lawyer's a good guy, but he's old, running out of steam, and wants to
retire.  Also, he doesn't really understand me, or know about my lifestyle,
so I have to tiptoe around a lot of stuff.  These endless negotiations,
they drive me crazy and I feel so alone."

Mario looked thoughtful, then said, "I think I might have a solution,
Grady.  What about Bob?"  Mario was referring to the handsome co-leader of
the tribe, and a light went on in Grady's eyes.

"Bob?  As my lawyer?  Mario, you're not just a pretty face, you're a
genius.  He would be perfect.  He's already our financial adviser, files
our taxes and all, so he knows all about our money and our, er, our
lifestyle, everything.  Plus he's a brilliant lawyer, he'd be perfect."

But when they approached Bob by phone he hesitated.  They met the next day
and he explained, "I was flattered that you would consider me for this
important job.  I've given it a lot of thought, my main concern being
whether I could devote to it all the time and attention you deserve.

"One thing in our favor is that I am already your financial adviser, so I
know all the details of your income, your lifestyle and your needs.  I have
worked in wealth management for years, cutting deals for my clients, many
of them in the movie business – producers, directors, performers – so
I know the territory, the wrinkles and the tricks real well.  It's a tough
business and some meetings with the studio bosses can get pretty
contentious.

"However, as it happens, two of my private clients died recently and I've
already wrapped up their affairs.  So I am tempted by the prospect of
working on your behalf, Grady.  Tangling with those pushy execs is a
challenge I would welcome. You are in a powerful position, Grady, as one of
the studio's biggest stars, so we hold all the cards.  And you don't come
cheap."

Grady flashed another smile.  "So all that means it's a yes?"

"Yes, Grady, it's a yes."

There was one more topic, decidedly unprofessional, that Grady wanted to
raise.  The ever-horny Grady wanted to seal the deal not with a handshake
but with sex.  Bob naturally protested at first as the idea went blatantly
against his professional ethics.  "You just hired me to be your attorney,
not your fuck-buddy."

But Bob was persuaded by Mario's pleas on Grady's behalf – and by the
sight of the naked muscle-jock Grady lying on the bed.  And the deal was
sealed with a wild scene of hardcore domination sex and fantasy that left
the handsome muscle-jock degraded and begging for more from his powerful,
sexy new lawyer.  As he lay back exhausted, Grady said,
"Un-fucking-believable, Bob, just what I needed."

"Yeah, well a good attorney always understands his client's needs."

"Hey," Grady grinned roguishly, "is this how our attorney/client
partnership's gonna be?"

Bob chuckled, "A modified version, maybe ... once in a while, not all the
time.  I hope we can separate business from pleasure, buddy" – if you
can call that rough-stuff pleasure."

"Sure I can, dude.  Brings me down to size after all that hero-worship I
get from fans.  I'm thrilled you're my new attorney, Bob.  Makes everything
come right."

========= CHAPTER 616 =========

<><> BOB PICKS BRANDON'S BRAIN <><>

Bob's mind was working overtime as he left the Grady House after his
meeting with Grady and Mario – a meeting that began with business and
ended with sex.

Bob was always uncomfortable when mixing business with sex, as it went
against his strict attorney ethics code.  However, as he left the house he
was preoccupied not with the sex but the business he had conducted.  After
much thought and discussion he had agreed to become Grady's attorney of
record in contract negations with Grady's studio on the new movie he was
about to embark on.

After a series of blockbuster action movies, including the Tarzan franchise
and now the Hunter series, starring Grady as a lifeguard captain, Grady had
become one of the studio's biggest stars, with income to match.

But Bob knew that at this level the stakes were high and negotiations could
be complex and even contentious, requiring much time and energy on his
part. His workload was already intense, running the business side of the
construction company, and provided legal services to private clients,
including many of the guys in the tribe.

So he had hesitated before accepting the post as Grady's attorney, not sure
if he would be able to devote to it the effort it would require.  And even
now he was still not sure.

When he got back to the tribe's compound he decided to meet with Brandon,
the young office manager for the construction company.  Refusing to be
confined by his life in a wheelchair, Brandon prided himself on being as
active as everyone else, with a business expertise he had learned from Bob
– an expertise that Bob needed to consult now.

When he went into the office he was greeted enthusiastically by Brandon and
his staff – the young assistants Vic and Noah, and the young computer
expert Ryan.

"How did your meeting go, sir?" Brandon asked.

"Tell you the truth, Brandon, I'm not sure.  All I can tell you is that you
are looking at Grady's new personal lawyer."

"Congratulations, sir, I knew that's how it would work out.  And if you
don't mind my saying so, Grady couldn't have made a better choice."

"Thanks Brandon – I think," Bob smiled.  "Truth is ... I'd like to pick
your brains, kiddo, but I don't want to interrupt you guys' work here."

"No problem, sir, I can come across to your house for a while.  You guys
can manage here while I'm gone, can't you?"

"Sure we can," the boys chorused.

So with a few parting instructions, Brandon wheeled himself with Bob across
to the so-called `Boss House' shared by Bob and Randy, the co-leaders of
the tribe.  They sat on the couch in Bob's office and talked over coffee.

"So here's the deal, Brandon.  The reason I said I was not sure, is that
being Grady's attorney would add a lot to my workload.  As well as the
construction company, there's my private clients' investments and taxes,
and now representing Grady at the studio.  I may have bitten off more than
I can chew."

Brandon grinned, "Sir, I think you're great at chewing on a lot of things
at once ... and that was not a sexual reference."

"Oh no?" Bob laughed.  "Try telling that to Randy – the number of times
he's growled, `chew on this, stud'."

"But seriously, sir, I do have one suggestion.  You should have Ryan create
separate computer programs for each of the various work categories."

"Yes, I already thought of that.  He has a knack of making everything much
clearer.  But then, on a continuing basis, what I need is a secretary, or
call it an assistant, someone who can organize my schedule, screen the
phone calls, take care of the office when I'm not here. This office has
plenty of room for a second desk."

"Great idea, sir."

"Question is who?  I'd probably have to hire someone from outside –
someone who's got a good business sense, can stay calm under pressure, and
someone who understands our lifestyle.  And above all, someone I can trust
to be discreet, especially with Grady's affairs ... Mario would make sure
of that.  Someone like that would be hard to find."

"Well, sir, there is one obvious choice."

"Who?"

"Well, Ryan himself."

"Ryan?  But he's your staff, Brandon.  I couldn't steal him away from you,
how would you manage?"

"Sir, for quite a few weeks Ryan has hardly been in the office – he's
been setting up Pablo's vehicle parts warehouse with Tyler. He tells me
that project is almost completed and he's ready to hand it all over to
Tyler.  So you see?  If you just transfer Ryan from Pablo's warehouse to
your office, it would make no difference to the business office."

"Hmm, there's a thought.  He certainly already has the qualifications I
listed.  And if he needed to take off for half a day to help Tyler or you
guys, I could handle that.  Brandon, my boy, I've said it before –
you're a genius."  Bob frowned.  "Yeah, but would Ryan go for it, being my
secretary/assistant?"

Brandon gave Bob a mocking smile.  "Are you asking that seriously, sir?
Work closely with you all day?  Any boy would jump at the chance.  They're
all in love with you."

Bob chuckled.  "I think you're exaggerating, Brandon.  But seriously, I
think my next step is to run it by Darius.  Ryan is his boy, so it's the
correct protocol, and I'd hate to make an offer to Ryan that would
displease, Darius.  So don't mention a word to Ryan yet."

"Seems you have it all planned out, sir.  So if you don't need to pick my
brains anymore I should get back to the office."

Bob smiled affectionately. "Brandon, you know my first choice for an
assistant would be you.  But that would be a step down for you, and with
your talent you are far more valuable to me and the company in the pivotal
post of business office manager. Anyway, I'm in your office so often you're
probably tired of my ugly mug."

"Sir, that last sentence is so inaccurate on so many levels I'll leave it
on the scrapheap where it belongs."

Bob laughed, leaned over on the couch and hugged him.  "I love you Brandon.
And I'm here if you ever get tired of Ranger Pete."

"Another comment for the scrapheap, sir.  I gotta go."  He hauled himself
off the couch and into his wheelchair, and rolled away, pausing only to
give a backward wave.

<><> RYANS NEW JOB <><>

Bob's chance to talk to Darius came sooner than he expected when Darius
came in with a folder of documents.  "Hi there, sir, I know you wanted
these production stats from my site pronto so I brought them over myself."

"Thank you, Darius," Bob smiled, "but I've told you before, you don't have
to call me sir.  You're a site manager now, one of the big boys."

"I know, but I've been calling you sir from the earliest days, before there
even was a tribe, and I can't break the habit.  It feels right, same as I
call Randy sir, and Zack of course.  So how was your meeting with Grady?
Word on the grapevine is that you gave him quite a workout."

"I guess I should have known," Bob chuckled.  "That grapevine is super
efficient and in this case pretty accurate.  I haven't spoken to you
one-on-one since your fishing trip to the lake.  You have fun?"

"More than fun, sir.  You know how romantic that lake is.  Lying in a boat
with Ryan, wow, I fell in love with him all over again."

"Delighted to hear it, after all those stupid rows with Zack.  But as
you're here, Darius, there was something important I wanted to discuss with
you, something concerning Ryan."

"Nothing wrong is there, sir?" Darius said, clenching his fists in full
protective mode.

"No, no," Bob smiled reassuringly, "quite the contrary actually. It began
with my visit to Grady."

Bob briefly went over the whole story of becoming Grady's attorney, the
resulting workload and his upcoming need for a secretary/assistant, someone
with specific qualifications. "Such a person would be hard to find, and it
was Brandon who made the suggestion that now seems obvious. I would like to
offer the job to your boy Ryan.  He fits the bill perfectly."

Darius's green eyes sparkled.  "Really, sir?"

"I haven't mentioned it to him yet, I needed your approval first as he's
your boy.  I would hate to offer him something like this and have you nix
it."

"Bob, I would never nix something that would make Ryan happy.  And I think
I can safely say that this would make him ecstatic.  Thank you, thank you.
Could we call him up here right now and break the news?"

"No time like the present, I guess."  Bob punched a number on his phone.
"Hey, Brandon – regarding what he talked about earlier.  I'm with Darius
now, so could you ask Ryan to come here and see us?  Don't mention what's
it's about."

A few minutes later Ryan came in and cast a worried glance at Bob and
Darius.  "You wanted to see me, sir?  Nothing wrong is there?"

Bob smiled warmly.  "Not at all, Ryan.  But I do have a serious question
for you."  Bob gave him roughly the same explanation he had just given to
Darius.  "With so many clients I tend to get snowed under, so I need you to
create tech programs for the different categories of work to help me keep
them sorted out."

"No problem there, sir.  Is that all you wanted?"

"Er, no, Ryan.  You see, even after that's all set up I'll still have too
much work to handle on my own, so I'll need a fulltime personal
secretary/assistant."

"Of course, sir, I understand.  I know lots of guys who would leap at a
chance like that.  Do you want me to keep my eyes open for candidates?"

"Um, I was hoping that would not be necessary, Ryan.  That is, if you would
accept the position.  I would like you to be my assistant, Ryan.  I would
bring a desk in here for you and we'll work together."

Ryan's fine Thai features winced in a frown as he tried to take it in, and
he looked at Darius for support.  "You ... you mean me, sir?"

Darius chuckled.  "He means you, kiddo.  A perfect choice, I'd say, and I'd
be proud for my boy to have that job."

That clinched it, and Ryan smiled at Bob.  "Thank you very much, sir.  I'd
be honored to be your assistant, if you think I can handle it."

"Wonderful," Bob beamed, "and I'm positive you can handle it.  You already
know everything about our construction company – hell, you created all
its computer systems.

"But the job comes with some conditions – the first being discretion.
You'll get to learn a lot of private, confidential things about clients and
you must not discuss them outside this office – except for Darius, of
course, I know you discuss everything with him. But he is very
tight-lipped."  "Not when he kisses me, sir," Ryan grinned at Darius.

"I'm sure not," Bob grinned.  "I absolutely trust you but, keeping it
businesslike I would have you sign an NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement.

"Representing Grady brings its own challenges as we will be drawn into the
edges of his intense celebrity.  You know how the tabloids can be with
their rumors – `Grady gives the finger to the studio ... won't star in
next movie' ...  contract talks break down'.  That's the kind of nonsense
– and the press will call us for comments as his legal representative.

"You'll have to field those calls – politely decline to comment and let
me do the talking.  But we'll go over all that later.  In the meantime, do
you have any questions for me?"

Ryan's brow furrowed. "Er, yes sir.  I do a lot of reading about showbiz
people and some of the terms I don't understand, one in particular.  What
does it mean for a star to have `points' in a movie?"

Bob's eyes opened wide.  "Ryan, you amaze me, because that is a subject
uppermost in my mind.  See, big stars sometimes take less upfront money in
exchange for a percentage of the movie's gross revenue.  That can be risky
if a movie bombs, but Grady's pictures are major blockbusters, thanks
largely to him, so two-percent of the worldwide gross, say, would bring in
really big bucks.  I was amazed to find out Grady has not had points in any
of his films so far, so that's something I will fight for.  The gross
revenue, mind, not the net.

"Oh, I know why that is, sir.  The studio can't hide the gross income, but
it has skillful accountants who can bump up the expenses and work the
figures so the movie shows no net profit at all.  Grady would get nothing."

Bob smiled at Darius.  "Darius, my man, I think I'm going to retire and
hand the whole business over to your boy to run.  He understands it as well
as I do."

"And don't think he couldn't, Bob.  Come here kiddo."  He pulled Ryan into
a bone-crushing hug.  "And other condition of the job is that I give you a
hiring bonus that might last all night, and you can't say no.  Bob, could
you include an NRD agreement in his contract – No Refusing Darius?"

Bob laughed. "Darius, I only insert contract clauses that are necessary.  I
can't imagine Ryan refusing you anything."

"Bob's right sir," Ryan smiled.  "All night it is.  Except that I have to
get up early next morning, `cos I have an important new job to report to.
Must make a good impression on my new boss on my first day."

<><> RANDY LOSES IT <><>

With renewed effusive thanks, the pair left Bob's office – Ryan to
return to the business office and congratulations from Brandon and his
colleagues – Darius back to his worksite, glowing with pride.

Bob went back to his desk with a satisfied smile, surprised how easily and
quickly he had clinched the deal with Grady and then with Ryan.  His first
job was to draw up contracts – a standard employment agreement with
Ryan, and a much longer complex contract with Grady.

He was still working on that task in mid afternoon, when Randy walked in
unexpectedly.  Deeply engrossed in his laptop Bob barely looked up. "Hey,
dude," he murmured absently, "you're home early."

"Yeah, good of you to notice."  But Bob didn't notice his lover's grating
tone of voice, and kept on working.

Randy paced the room, which usually meant he was either horny or angry.  If
Bob had bothered to raise his head and see Randy's expression, he would
have known it was definitely the latter

"So what are you doing?"

Vaguely annoyed at the interruption Bob muttered, "Trying to draw up this
contract with Grady."

"Oh yeah, that thing you mentioned last night.  So it seems you had a
meeting and took him on as a client after all.  I dimly recall Zack
mentioned that at work?"

"Ryan's contract was simple, but Grady's is harder than I thought.  Mustn't
miss anything out."

"Hmm, maybe I can make it a bit easier for you."  Randy stopped pacing,
walked up to Bob's desk and slammed the lid of his laptop shut with a bang.

Startled, Bob jerked his head up ... and saw for the first time the savage
look on the swarthy, gypsy face.  "Randy, what the ...?  What are you
doing?"

"Oh, just trying to get ten seconds' attention from my buddy, my partner,
my lover, the man I share everything with ... or used to.  Now, it seems,
I'm kept out of the loop.  You've become this high-powered lawyer and I'm
just the working grunt who shovels dirt all day.  I guess a PhD and MBA
beats hands down a what ... a DDS, ditch-digging slob?"

"Randy, where's all this nonsense coming from all of a sudden?"

"Not all of a sudden, asshole ... been building for a while.  Last night
you mentioned something vague about working for Grady, and today I hear
from Zack, of all people, that you've signed up to become Grady's attorney.
How d'you think that makes me look to Zack?  He was surprised that he knew
before I did and even asked if everything was OK between us.

"Well no, it fucking well ain't OK.  There's even a rumor going round that
to celebrate you had wild sex with Grady, worked him over good.

"So I come here to sort stuff out and see young Ryan celebrating `cos he's
gonna be your full-time secretary or whatever you call it.  All his buddies
knew – seems everyone knows everything about you before I do.  You've
cut me – me! – clear out of the loop.  And when I walk in here you
good as ignore me, you're so wrapped up in your stupid Grady contract.
Don't even have the time of day for me."

Randy stood towering over him, clenching and unclenching his fists, with
that steely look of fury that terrified others and even made Bob nervous.
He sat back in his desk chair and prepared to reason with Randy and calm
him down.

"Randy, I was wrong and I regret my failure to communicate better.  But the
Grady thing was a big deal and I had to do a lot of thinking.  You were at
work when I went up to the Grady House for our meeting and clinched the
deal.  Then one thing quickly led to another, I spoke to Brandon and Ryan,
and the boy accepted my offer to employ him as my office assistant. Maybe I
should have called you ... I was going to fill you in eventually ..."

"'I was gonna fill you in'," Randy mimicked sarcastically. "'I was gonna,
yeah, when hell freezes over'?  And what else were you gonna tell me? That
you're gonna pull the plug, leave the company, and leave me, to go work for
your other high-powered clients like Grady?"

"Randy you're being ridiculous," Bob snapped, starting to lose his
patience.  "You are being totally irrational, exaggerating everything as
usual."

"Oh is that so?"  Randy leaned over him and pointed a threatening finger at
this face.  "Well here's a newsflash, buddy, I'm the boss around here, and
stuff like this, you consult with me to make sure I approve."

That's where Bob lost it.  He got up from his desk and confronted Randy
face to face.  "Make sure you approve?!  I have to get your approval for
taking on a new client and hiring office staff?  You know that is totally
insane.  Do I come to your construction site and complain, `why did you
fire this crew guy, why did you hire this new one without my approval?'
You'd laugh in my face, same as I'm laughing in yours now.

"As for sex with Grady ... how many times have you fucked his ass eh?  And
I don't recall you ever asking for my approval.

"No, there's obviously something else going on here.  I think you're
nervous, jealous that I'm getting closer to Grady.  You're afraid I'm
hiring an assistant so I can set up an office, move up to the Grady House
and live and work from there.  Maybe fuck Grady and Mario every night.

"See? Sounds ridiculous, don't it?  The problem here is your damned ego,
Randy.  Oh sure, you parade around playing the part of the big muscle-boss
with the gigantic cock, throwing your orders around.  But underneath that
butch act your ego is as fragile as a cobweb.  And all a cobweb's good for
is catching flies, little itty-bitty flies.

"Well here's a newsflash for you, big guy.  I'm not one of those flies,
caught in your web waiting to be devoured by your gigantic cock.  I'm my
own man, I make my own decisions. And right now, I gotta tell ya, working
and living with a famous movie star like Grady is looking a whole lot more
attractive than kicking around with a ditch-digger, as you call yourself."

Bob's verbal skills way outclassed Randy's limited vocabulary, which right
now was reduced to a guttural "Fuck you, asshole."  As words failed he was
reduced to the only other weapon in his arsenal – his hands – and he
slapped Bob hard across his face.

All his rage, frustration and fear went into the blow, which sent Bob
reeling back and sprawling on the floor.  Randy looked down in horror.  He
had hit the man he loved, something he had promised he would never do
again.  A tangled mix of remorse and residual rage rooted him to the spot,
and overcame his instinct to help Bob to his feet.

Instead, Bob pulled himself up, rubbing his check that already glowed red.
He stumbled to the desk, sat down heavily and picked up the phone.  "Hey,
Will.  I know you guys are busy with dinner prep but could you do me a
favor and bring up a bottle of Randy's favorite Scotch that you have
stashed down there?"

"Sure thing, sir.  Three minutes."

It seemed like the longest three minutes as Bob stared down at his desk and
Randy paced the room, feeling entirely lost.  Will knocked and came in,
wearing his kitchen apron and chef's hat and bearing a tray with two
glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. He instantly picked up
on the heavy atmosphere in the silent room, and noticed Bob's inflamed
cheek.  But discreet as always, he acted casually.

"There you are, sirs, finest money can buy.  I'll place it on this table,
shall I?  Would you like me to pour?"

Annoyed by Will's chirpy tone Randy growled, "Just leave the fucking
bottle, cut the crap and get the hell out, boy."

Shocked, Will's freckled face blushed red and tears filled his eyes.
"Sorry, sir.  Sorry."  He turned and stumbled to the door.

But Randy said, "Wait, kid ... wait."  He ran across the room and pulled
Will into a tight hug.  "Kiddo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that.  You know I
would never hurt you."  He kissed the boy's eyes, and gently wiped the
tears from his cheeks.  Then he pulled off his chef's hat, ruffled his red
hair and jammed the hat back on at an angle.  "We still friends, Red?"
Randy smiled.

"Of course we are, sir ... always."

"You know I love you, kiddo, don't you?"

"I do, sir."  Will grinned.  "But you know what the song says – `You
always hurt the one you love, the one you shouldn't hurt at all'."

Will straightened his hat, kissed Randy's cheek and left the room.

<><> OPPOSITES ATTRACT <><>

When Randy turned round Bob was sitting on the couch before a low table
with the Scotch on it.  "Thank you for hugging Will, Randy.  I would hate
to see him leave in tears."

Randy said hesitantly, "Man, I love that kid.  Did, er, did you hear what
he said about hurting the one you love?"

"I did.  And in that one sentence Will made more sense than all the crap
we've been throwing at each other.  Come have a drink."

After a moment's hesitation Randy sat at the opposite end of the couch.
Then, realizing he was too far from the glasses he shuffled clumsily
sideways, closer to Bob until they were almost touching.  Bob poured his
drink, Randy downed it and Bob poured him another.

"I also heard what you said to Will, Randy – the last part, I mean.
And, er, I'd like to hear you say that to me."

Randy turned his head and his troubled blue eyes met Bob's steady
gaze. "You mean this part – `you know I love you, kiddo'?"

"Yes, that part.  Say it again, Randy.  To me this time."

Randy looked him straight in the eye.  "I love you, dude, I do."

"And I love you Randy, although I don't know why, after all these years
together, we have to reassure each other of that.  But let's hang on to
that thought, Randy, and work from there."

"Bob, let me say ..."

"No, let's not say.  Not the usual apologies, reconciliation and then fuck
the hurt away.  This ain't our first time at that rodeo, far from it.  Too
many times to count.  Thing is, Randy, we had a fight.  All couples
disagree and quarrel."

"Yeah but they don't hit each other."

Bob grinned.  "Ain't my first time at that particular rodeo either, dude.
Used to be worse than a slap too."

Randy winced.  "I guess I have a pretty bad track record, don't I?"

Randy, I don't want to rehash what happened here – some morbid
blow-by-blow account.  One blow is one too many for my blood.  However, I
do want to look at why it happened so we can make sure the same problem
doesn't recur.

"I admit that I should have shared with you my excitement at the thing with
Grady.  It's every attorney's dream to represent a big successful star like
Grady.  I'll be tangling with all the big boys at a major movie studio, and
Ryan and I will be keeping the press at bay.  I was kind of hoping you'd be
proud of me taking this leap in my career."

"I am proud, Bob, but I guess I felt, kinda locked out and jealous and
... and scared you were drifting away from me.  You the big brainy lawyer
and me just a ..."

"Stop right there, Randy.  Because you've hit on the real issue here –
the difference between you and me.  But the truth is, the reason we're so
successful as lovers, and as business partners, owes a lot to that
difference.  Opposites attract and all that.  But what cut me to the quick
was when you said a lawyer with a PhD and MBA beat a mere ditch-digger
every time.  Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?

"Yes we have different skills and thank God we do, and we're both at the
top of our game.  I'm good at the business side but, Randy, without you
there would be no construction company.  You built it brick by brick with
muscle and sheer dogged determination, from a little two-man effort into
the major, successful company it is today. And along the way we gathered
around us this crowd of sensational men and boys who love us both.

"Call it a combination of my brains and your muscle. And apart from
anything else, do you know how fucking sexy that makes you?  You walk
through a crowd and every dick gets hard.  Those guys would take your sex
appeal over my PhD every time.  And every time you come home and walk in
here in your old sweaty clothes, you take my breath away."

"Except when you've got your head buried in that computer," Randy grinned.

"Touchι, you got me there dude.  But what I'm saying is we are both, in
our separate ways, big beautiful successful men, leaders of the tribe, who
also happen to be crazy in love with each other.  Don't get much better
than that, dude."

"No, it really don't, buddy."  Randy reached over and pressed his hand on
Bob's.  "And next time we quarrel, dude, let's try and remember this
moment, sitting here drinking primo Scotch with major boners in our pants.
But I guess I better keep away from the boner thing.  Like you said, we
can't fall into the trap of that old pattern – fight, make up and fuck
the hurt away, like we always do."

"Now hold on there a minute, big guy.  I don't think I actually excluded
sex, did I?"

"Sounded that way to me, dude."

"Well, instead of calling it makeup sex, let's make it part of the therapy.
Stand up."  They got to their feet and faced each other.

"Look at us.  You in those filthy, sweaty laborer's clothes, the muddy
jeans, boots and ragged old tank.  Me in smart tan slacks, a dress shirt
and tassel loafers.  There's the inequality that caused so much angst.
Lose the clothes and the only difference between us is you have blue eyes
and I have brown."

Randy shrugged.  "Yeah, maybe you're right.  Worth a try I guess."

<><> RANDY BACK ON TOP <><>

Randy pulled his tank off over his head while Bob unbuttoned his shirt and
shrugged it back off his shoulders.  Staring into each other's eyes, Randy
kicked off his boots and Bob slid off his loafers.  They undid their pants
and let them drop.

Randy gazed at this naked superman-handsome lover and sighed.  "Dammit,
man, you are so fucking beautiful it scares me ... scares me that you won't
always be here with me."

"Till death do us part Randy."

"Can ... can I hug you?"

Bob grinned, "Is a hug different from a slap?"

"Sure.  A hug don't have hate in it ... or stupidity ... mine."

Bob held his arms out sideways.  "In that case, hug away, big guy."

Randy wrapped his arms round his lover and they stood motionless, in a
tight embrace – two alpha males whose mutual strength and dominance
could make them fiercely competitive one minute, then passionately loving
the next.  Randy whimpered softly, "Oh fuck ... fuck ...  Man, I'm sorry
for ..."

Bob touched his finger to Randy's lips.  "No, no apologies for the past, no
`never-agains' for the future.  We'll just live in the moment – this
moment."

Randy was a man of action, not words, and if he couldn't apologize
verbally, he had other ways.  He pulled back, stroked Bob's sculpted
features, neck and chest ... and sank to his knees.  Bob's cock was
sticking out like a rod, and Randy closed his mouth over it and pushed
forward until his stubbled face was buried in his lover's mass of dark
pubic hair.

Bob stared down at the erotic sight of the rugged gypsy boss, on his knees
sucking cock – a graphic image of a topman humbling himself in remorse.
It was not only the visual image, of course.  The sensation in Bob's cock
of his lover's hot wet mouth was intense enough to bring him close to
orgasm, which he struggled hard to control.

Randy sensed this, and his own cock was already straining for release.  He
knew what Bob really wanted, the same as he himself craved.  The caveman
was stirring inside him.  Time to assert his authority, to show who was the
real boss.

He abruptly pulled his mouth off Bob's cock and sprang to his feet.  He
wrapped his hand round the nape of Bob's neck and pulled him into a
grinding kiss.  Once again Bob felt the irresistible pull of Randy's
magnetic sexuality.  There was no man like him.  He was not surprised to
feel Randy squeeze him in his arms, lift his feet from the floor, carry him
to the bed and toss him down on it.

There was a gleam in his blue eyes as he towered over his naked lover and
growled, "Dammit, man, I gotta fuck that ass.  You are such a fucking stud,
a powerful lawyer, tangling with the big boys like you said.  But here you
are, all mine, naked on the fucking bed craving my dick up your ass.  That
is what you want, right?"

"Yes, sir."

Bob was momentarily surprised to hear the `sir' come out of his own mouth
... but it was a natural reflex.  At this moment all else faded – the
petty squabbles, the superficial tussle for supremacy.

This is what Bob had felt that very first long-ago day in that scruffy bar,
sitting beside the sweaty construction worker ... why he had submitted to
the physical abuse in the cheap motel, and come back for more.  This is why
he had lived an intensely passionate life with Randy for all these years.
And this is why he was here now, lying naked on the bed, craving more.

"That's it for foreplay, dude," Randy growled.  "I want your fucking ass.
He knelt on the bed and pushed one of his legs back, giving him a clear
shot at his ass ... and drove deep inside him.

Bob threw his head back and groaned in ecstasy.  This was what he wanted,
more than anything, to be dominated by the swarthy long-haired gypsy, as he
had been years ago in the motel.  No matter Bob's stature as a successful
lawyer, a leader of men, a dominant alpha male in his own right.  All that
paled into insignificance under the glare of Randy's sexual charisma.  More
than love, more than lust, it was a natural surrender to the man's
overpowering masculinity.

Bob gazed up into the laser-blue eyes that pierced him as intensely as the
massive cock pierced his ass.  The hypnotic eyes consumed him, drew him
inexorably into a private world that they alone shared, body and soul.

As Randy's sinewy body rose and fell over him, he clamped his hands over
Bob's pecs and dug his fingers into the solid flesh.  His deep voice
growled, "I fucking love you, man.  Only I can give you this and you know
it.  That's why you're my man, why I can make you do anything ... like bust
a massive load when I tell you to."

"Man, I want that so bad.  I'm so close.  Please let me feel your jizz in
my ass, please make me cum."

Randy pressed down on Bob's pecs, pinning his muscular body to the bed as
he flashed a dazzling smile.  "Just so we understand each other, dude.  I'm
the boss, and I'm gonna cum inside your hot ass.  Let me see you pump that
load, man.  Yeah ... fuck ... fuck ... yeaahh."

Suddenly everything was still.  Motionless, they smiled into each other's
eyes as semen poured from their cocks, the juice of the passion they shared
– and always would.

They lay together for a while, but when Randy smiled Bob could still see a
gleam in his eye that he recognized.  He knew Randy wasn't quite finished.

"Buddy," Randy grinned, "you were fucking spectacular as always, and I
think we sorted things out here, don't you?"  Bob braced for more, and he
was surprised when Randy got off the bed and pulled on his jeans and boots.

"You going back to work?"

"Nah, my foreman can close up for the day.  I promised Mario I would go up
their house before the party and check on the security, make any repairs to
the fences.  You just get on with your contracts and stuff that I
interrupted, and whatever you have to do with Ryan.  He's a good kid.  You
made the right choice.  Sorry to bail on you like this.  He grinned
roguishly.  "I know you'll be pining for me."

"Arrogant prick," Bob smiled.

"Asshole," Randy grinned, and strode from the room.

Left alone, Bob frowned, wondering what was up.  Randy could check the
Grady House security anytime before the weekend.  Why now?  Then he smiled.
That was it, of course – there was only one explanation.

<><> RANDY BUCKLES ON A TOOLBELT <><>

With renewed confidence, his wounded manhood restored, Randy swung up into
his truck and headed up the hill.  He was soon pulling up to the high,
solid Grady House gates where he saw the security camera swing round and
heard Brian's voice from the intercom.  "Hello, sir, we weren't expecting
you.  Come right in."

The gates swung open, Randy drove in and parked by the garages.  As he got
out of the truck Brian came racing up in his wheelchair.  Flashing his
famous gleaming smile, Randy picked the boy up, kissed him, swung him round
and deposited him safely back in the chair.  "Hey kiddo, how's it hanging?
You being a good kid?"

"Always, sir," Brian smiled shyly, "you know me.  Mario's upstairs, do you
want me to have him come down?"

"Nah, no need to disturb him.  I came to do my usual pre-party security
check.  You ready for the big party?"

"We're getting there, sir.  Lots to do.  Er, Mario mentioned there are a
few loose boards in the back fence, the far corner."

"OK, I'll take a look."  Randy pulled his toolbelt from his truck and
buckled it low on his hips.  Still shirtless in work pants and boots, he
looked to Brian like something out of a porn flick.  Without quite knowing
why, Brian said, "Er, Grady's out there somewhere lying in the sun, sir.
If you come across him better not wake him up – he's coming off a tough
few weeks of filming."

"Thanks, I'll bear that in mind, kiddo."

"Gotta get back, sir.  Yell if you need anything."

Randy began his inspection of the perimeter, starting at the gates.  He
stopped every so often to test the fence and punch in nails where needed.
Occasionally he pulled from a pouch on his toolbelt a small dogeared pad
and wrote notes about parts required for later repairs to a more serious
breach.

It took him a while to get round the whole perimeter and as he came back
closer to the house he saw in the distance, not far from the pool, a figure
lying flat on the lawn. "Ahh."  He gave a satisfied grunt.  The security
check had been real and necessary, but this was also real and even more
necessary, in his mind.  The security could have waited, but this couldn't.

He walked across the garden and stared down at the figure sleeping in the
sun.  "Shit damn," he growled under his breath.  Lying buck naked on a
towel spread on the grass, Grady looked breathtaking – the perfect icon
of a movie action hero idolized worldwide.  Randy stared down at the
chiseled, square-jawed features and the classically sculpted physique,
honed to perfection in grinding gym workouts that Randy himself had
inflicted on Grady.

Grady was asleep, body sprawled on the ground one arm thrown back above
him, like a pose arranged for a publicity shot to display his exquisite
body to the max.  His chest rosed and fell gently in sleep and his lips
were slightly parted in a faint smile.

Randy frowned.  Why was he smiling, was he dreaming of Bob maybe?  How Bob
had signed on as his attorney and then fucked him in a wild sexual fantasy
of bondage and domination?  Of how, as Bob's employer, we would be meeting
with him often, maybe combining business and sex and even fucking Bob's
ass?  He was now Bob's boss after all, in a way.

Randy felt his anger rising and he fought against it, recalling how his
irrational anger had got him in trouble with Bob.  No, he had simply come
up here to sort things out with this man, lay down some rules.  He also
fought the growing bulge in his pants as he stared down at the homoerotic
sight.  His anger he could control, but not the hardon – only one way to
handle that.

[He cleared his throat loudly and Grady's eyes opened.  Dazzled by the sun
at first he could see only a shape, but as his vision cleared, he
gasped. Towering over him was a swarthy muscular gypsy, a bare-chested
construction worker in jeans and heavy boots, a tool belt swung low round
his tight waist.  His muscular arms were folded across his massive chest as
his penetrating blue eyes stared down at him.

"Oh my god, Randy.  You look ... oh my god."  Grady propped himself up on
his elbows.  His cock, that had been lying limply over his thigh now
quickly rose, rigid as a flagpole.  "Randy, I'm sorry I ... oh my god."

Randy stared with satisfaction at Grady's hard-dick reaction and his
fumbling discomfort.  "You're sorry, dude?  You feel guilty about
something?  About Bob maybe?  About becoming his boss and having sex with
him without consulting me?"

"No, Randy.  No, I didn't ... I mean I'm not his boss.  I begged him to
become my attorney, is all.  And ... well, we did have sex but, that was
just my way of thanking him.  I didn't know I should have ... I mean, I
didn't think ..."

"Well let me do the thinking for you, boy.  You are not, and never will be,
Bob's boss.  That job's taken ... I'm his boss and he's my man, `cos I'm
the King of the fucking Gypsies.

"I can understand him being seduced by your stardom.  Becoming the lawyer
for a movie idol, a muscle-jock action star might seem like a big deal.
But not me, buddy.  To me you're not this hotshot celebrity.  To me you're
just one of the guys."

"Thank you Randy, that's just what I want to be, always.  Maybe at the
studio I'm something, but here I'm just a regular guy."

"To do with as I please, right?"

"Yes, sir.  Definitely.  Yes please, sir."

Randy unfolded his arms and they dropped to his sides, fists slightly
clenched.  "When I say you're a regular guy, I mean a guy with a
spectacular face and body and a primo ass – more about that in a minute.
But as for this job of Bob's, let me make things crystal clear."

Randy yanked open his pants, pulled out his cock and dropped to his knees
between Grady's sprawled legs.  Grady automatically stretched his arms up
submissively in a V on the ground.  Randy leaned forward and pinned his
wrists to the ground, so hard it made him wince.  The tools on his belt
scraped against Grady cock and abs.

"So here's the deal, buddy.  Bob's your attorney, I'm cool with that.  But
he calls the shots, right, not you."

"That ... that's why I hired him, dude, to take charge."

"You didn't hire my man, dude, he agreed to work for you.  And if at
anytime you give him grief, try to pull rank, hurt him in anyway at all,
you'll have me to reckon with ... and I think you know what that means."

"I ... I think so, Randy."

"Hmm, I'm not sure you do, so let me prove it, prove who's really the
boss."  He momentarily released Grady's wrists, ripped open his jeans and
pulled out his iron-hard cock. He pushed his legs back, leaned forward
between them and clamped his wrists on the ground again.  The head of his
huge dick pressed against his hole.  "Now you're mine, my prisoner.  Let me
see you try to get free."

Grady flexed his muscles and tried to free his arms, head thrashing from
side to side.  "I ... I can't, sir.  I'm at your mercy."

"Damn straight you are.  At the mercy of a big ol' gypsy construction
boss. You like how that feels?"

"Yes, sir.  What you gonna do to me, sir?"

Randy frowned.  "Hmm, nothing, I think.  Not this time."

Grady gasped.  "No, sir, please.  I want it, sir.  I want you inside me so
bad.  I'm begging you."

"Nah, you're not worth it."

Desperate, Grady blurted, "OK, I did hire Bob, so I'm his boss and he'll do
whatever I order him to.  I'll even fuck his ass ..."

Randy's eyes blazed. "Damn you ... fuck you man ... you asked for this."

"Aaagh ..."  Grady screamed as he felt the monster shaft penetrate him,
drive into the depths off his ass and over the inner sphincter.  "Oh my god
... fuck, I'm gonna cum ..."

"Not until I tell you to, stud.  You said you wanted to get fucked by a
macho construction boss, right?

"Oh yeah.  I'll do what you say, Randy.  You're the boss.  Please, I didn't
mean what I said ..."

"I know you didn't Grady.  But I'm gonna fuck you anyway.  Brace yourself,
stud."

It was a classic Randy fuck, savage to the point of Grady's pain threshold,
and a bit over it for a few seconds. Grady gazed at the brawny gypsy above
him, muscles flexing as he rose and fell over him, the tools on his belt
banging against his abs as his huge shaft pistoned inside him, again and
again and again.

Grady loved to get butt fucked, but there was no one like Randy.  When he
had first opened his eyes and seen the bare-chested gypsy towering over him
he had craved what was happening to him now.  He was lost in the pale blue
eyes staring down at him, hypnotized by them and the deep, commanding
voice.

He drifted into a fantasy world of total abject submission to this savage
alpha stud reaming his ass.  He lost all sense of time and place.  His body
was on fire and somewhere in the distance he heard a voice growl ... "Now,
man ... do it now ... that's an order."

Grady's cock shuddered and erupted in a plume of semen that shot up and
splashed on the massive heaving chest of the man whose cock was flooding
his ass with the juice he craved.

<><> BRIAN'S GOSSIP BOOK <><>

Everything went black for a few seconds, and when he opened his eyes Randy
was smiling down at him.  He leaned forward and kissed Grady.  "So do we
understand each other, dude?"

"Oh yeah ... perfectly Randy.  Thanks for straightening me out on all that.
Aaahh."  He gasped as Randy pulled out of his ass, got to his feet and
shoved his cock back in his pants.  "You will come again, won't you Randy?"

"Sure I will.  I gotta come back with more gear to fix the rest of the
fence.  And you better be here too, ready for me."

"I will, of course I will.  And you'll be at the party?"

"Try keeping me away," Randy grinned.

At that moment Mario and Brian appeared and Randy flashed a smile. "Hey,
you guys, were you two watching from the window?"

"Of course we were, sir, Brian laughed."  He waved his notebook at
Grady. "And I got it all written down here, sir.  Plus a video here,"
waving his cellphone.

Randy pulled Grady to his feet, kissed him then handed him off to Mario.
"Here, buddy, you can have him back now.  He's all yours ... you two belong
to each other."

"Thank you for checking the fence, Randy and ... and, er, for everything
else," Mario said, slipping his arm round Grady's waist.  "Are you feeling
OK, amico?"

"What do you think, buddy?  You saw what happened.  Thanks again, Randy."

Grady ruffled Brian's hair.  What d'ya think kiddo?  Man I can't wait for
this party – we're gonna have a blast.  You keep that book handy kid.
There'll be a whole lot of gossip goin' on."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 617


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

ALSO, I invite you to visit my own Web-site www.atrialofstrength.com. You
can read the whole story, with extras including pictures and biographies of
all the characters.

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 donate
what you can.  All the other writers and I thank you.