Date: Sun, 15 Aug 2021 05:56:14 +0000 (UTC)
From: rw6789@aol.com
Subject: "A Trial Of Strength" - Part 554  by Rob Williams

A TRIAL OF STRENGTH – PART 554 by Rob Williams

Chapter 554 – "GRADY & MIKE'S DESERT FANTASY"

IN THIS CHAPTER

Driving to Uncle Mike's in the desert young Will sits proudly in the truck
between the bosses Randy and Bob – and is happy to satisfy Randy's
sexual urges.  At Mike's house, their buddy, action-movie star Grady, swaps
stories with Mike, and they end up re-living the scene in his movie where
Tarzan is captured and worked over by soldiers.  Except Mike takes "torture
his ass" literally.

_________________________________________________________________________

<><> IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER <><>

After the brutal fight with thieves trying to steal from the construction
site, boss Randy emerged as a hero – a hero with a broken arm.  But even
with his right arm in a plaster cast and in a sling the tough macho gypsy
insisted on powering through it and working as usual.  "Dammit, I always
said I could work with one arm tied behind my back."

But he finally gave in to the persuasive skills of his lover Bob, and a
fierce tongue-lashing from Mike, the older man Randy loved as a father He
agreed to take a break from work and go with Bob for a week's recuperation
at the sprawling Palm Springs home of Mike (known to the tribe as Uncle
Mike) and his boy Larry.

The day before they left, Randy and Bob visited all three of the
construction sites to make sure all would run smoothly in the boss's
absence.  The last site was managed by Seth, the rugged hunk who was the
stepdad of Will, the young redhead who was also a hero after the fight.

Randy told Seth, "I still have to thank your kid for his gutsy performance
at the fight.  He possibly saved my life, or at least saved me from serious
injury.  I have a few things in mind, even a little trip out of town, but I
wanted to run it by you first, as his dad."

Seth willingly agreed to Randy's proposals, then added, "There's something
about my kid that I haven't told you before.  As you know, he's passionate
about cooking and loves to set the table just right and serve it formally,
like in a good restaurant.

"A few days ago he told me that, when he lived alone in a little studio
apartment, he didn't have any friends, so he passed the time by indulging
his love of cooking.  He would cook a complete meal, which wasn't easy on a
small two-burner stove.  He set his little table with a white cloth,
flowers in the middle, two candles, wine glasses, napkin, the whole fancy
thing.

"And, as there was no one else to eat it, he served himself and ate dinner
alone.  He sat there in the silence, sipping wine and savoring the gourmet
food he had just cooked.  There was no one to talk to, but in his mind he
dreamed about doing this for others one day, wearing an apron and chef's
hat in a fancy setting.  But as it was, when he had finished, he would wash
and dry the dishes, blow out the candles, fold the tablecloth, and go to
bed.

"When he told me about this he showed no trace of self-pity.  That's just
the way life was and he accepted it – until the happy day when he met
your twins.  Now he loves living his dream of serving dinner to others on
those catering jobs he does for guys' dinner parties.  He pulls out all the
stops to make it special."

Seth choked up.  "But still, guys, when I think of that freckle-faced young
kid, blinking behind his owl glasses in the candlelight I ..."  He turned
his head away so the guys wouldn't see his tears welling up.  But Randy and
Bob had moist eyes too and there was a long silence as they imagined the
sad, lonely little scene.

When Bob and Randy went back to the tribe's compound Randy went down to
their basement gym where Will was working out alone.  "Hey Red," he
grinned. "need any help?"

As he had done so many time before, Randy coached him through his workout,
and at the end Will asked, "Are you gonna fuck me, sir?"

"I'd get off on that, Red, but with this damn arm in a sling I'm kinda
limited.  So here's the next best thing – here's the reward I been
promising you."  To Will's amazement Randy sat on the boy's cock and rode
it all the way to their simultaneous orgasms.

"Dude, you're a killer," Randy grinned.  "Wouldn't wanna tangle with you in
a dark alley."  He rose off Will's cock and master and boy sat astride the
bench facing each other. Will put on his owl glasses and Randy reached
forward and ruffled his hair.

"You're a terrific kid, Red ... and I've got a proposal for you.  Like I
said, I spoke to Seth and he's all for it.  You probably heard that me and
Bob, we're going out to Uncle Mike's place in Palm Springs to rest up and
let this stupid arm heal.  A few other guys might be headed out there too
– Mark and Hassan and their boys, even Mario and Grady.

"Me and Bob, we wanna thank Uncle Mike for all he's done for us.  We'd like
to treat Mike, Larry and the other guys to a dinner party in his garden out
there. And I want this dinner to be special, kinda fancy – you know,
real good food and wines, table all set up like a fancy restaurant."

"I'm no good at all that high-class stuff, but I've heard great things
about the dinner parties you catered for other guys.  So, Red, I was
wondering if you'd like a trip out there with Bob and me, and do the
honors.  I guess I'm offering you a catering gig, that I'd pay you for of
course."

Will's freckled face lit up, his wide eyes blinking fast behind his
glasses.  "Sir, you don't have to pay me.  I'd love to do that for you and
the guys.  It's what I do best, makes me feel special."

"You already are special, Red, and of course I'll pay you – it's what
you do for a living so I don't want you to work for free.  So can I take
that as a yes, you'll come out there with Bob and me?"

"I'll have to check with the twins sir, but if they say it's OK, we got a
deal."  He held out his hand to shake on it, but Randy pulled him forward
and kissed him.

"Should be quite a gathering, kiddo.  Never know what those guys will get
up to in the desert, specially Mark and Hassan in that little house of
Hassan's in the dunes.  But your dinner party's gonna be the highlight."

"You better believe it will, sir.  I'll see to that."

========= CHAPTER 554 =========

<><> WILL – HAPPY AS A CLAM <><>

Will left the gym and ran back to rejoin the twins in the kitchen, they
could see from the glow on his freckled face that he had good news.

In a breathless rush he told them all about his gym workout.  "And you will
not believe how it ended, sirs.  I thought Randy was gonna fuck me like he
often does, but with his arm in a sling he did something else.  Get ready
for it ... he sat on my cock ... and I came in his butt."

Kyle chuckled, "Man, I'd like to have seen that.  Eddie should have been
there with his camera – definitely one for the archives."

"But then, sirs, came the best part – at least I hope you'll think it's
the best part.  Randy and Bob are going out to Uncle Mike's place in Palm
Springs and they want to give Mike and Larry and their other guests a
really spiffy dinner party – you know, fancy setup, gourmet food, the
works. And get this ... they want me to go with them and cater the dinner.
It would be one of my biggest catering gigs.  That is, if you let me go,
sirs.  I said I'd have to ask you, but if you need me here of course I'll
stay."

Kevin smiled, "Will, this is a great opportunity.  Catering a big event is
what you love to do.  Don't worry about us here.  Several of the other men
and their boys are going to Mike's too, so our workload will be light.
After lunch today, we'll get together and help you decide on the menu, and
make a list of stuff you need to take out there with you."

"Thank you, sirs.  But right now I've gotta finish preparing the boxed
lunches to take to the construction crews."

Will was just finishing the lunches when his pal Eddie burst into the
kitchen and threw his arms round him.  "Dude," he gushed, "it's up on the
grapevine.  Rumor has it you're gonna go out to the Springs with Bob and
Randy and cook a big dinner for us all.  I say `us' cos Hassan is taking me
too, and Mark is taking Jamie.  Hassan and Mark probably wanna do their
dungeon thing in Hassan's little house in the dunes, and you can bet I'll
be there with my camera.  You should watch too if you're not too busy in
the kitchen, `cos ..."

"Eddie ... dude, cool it.  If you would pause for breath for a minute you
could help me take these lunches to the construction sites.  Anyway, how in
the hell is all this already on the grapevine?  Randy only asked me a short
while ago."

"Who knows?" Eddie laughed.  "Our grapevine is like that plant Audrey-Two
in Little Shop of Horrors – has a life of its own.  When the end of the
world comes the only things left will be the roaches, our grapevine and
Cher."  Will giggled. "Shut up and help me load these in my truck."

"You know kiddo, you're still a hero out at the constructions sites.  They
say celebrity brushes off on people, so I maybe I can bathe in the
limelight too."

"Eddie, you're always front and center wherever you go.  Come on."  And so,
with motor-mouth Eddie keeping up his stream of consciousness beside Will,
they loaded the truck and drove off.

<><> DRIVING WHILE BLOWN <><>

Will's excitement mounted in the afternoon as he and the twins planned for
Will's big event.  That night Will slept with his stepdad Seth who said,
"I'm so proud of you kiddo.  It's a big responsibility taking charge of Bob
and Randy's dinner party, and I know you're gonna be the star of the show.

Will woke up early next morning, kissed Seth goodbye and ran next door to
the kitchen where the twins were already working on the tribe's breakfasts.
They helped him load into Randy's truck the supplies and utensils he would
need to take with him and hugged him goodbye.  "Have fun, kiddo.  Call us
if you need anything, but we know Randy will take good care of you."

Bob had been in the office for a final check with Brandon and his staff,
and now he came out to join Randy.  He hugged the twins and they were off.
They were in Randy's big F-450 truck, though Bob was driving owing to
Randy's injured right arm.  Will sat proudly between the tribe's bosses
feeling happy and excited about the trip, if a bit apprehensive of the task
ahead.

Randy stretched his good left arm over Will's shoulder.  "So, Red, how's it
hangin'?  You sure this dinner ain't gonna be too much for you?"

"Definitely not, sir, this is what I do best.  Provided I'm in charge of
the kitchen.  I mean, I know it'll be Uncle Mike's kitchen and Larry's
usually in charge, but whenever I cook in another guy's home I have to be
the head chef or it don't work."

"William," Bob said, "I wouldn't worry about that.  Just have a word with
Uncle Mike when you get there."

"Have you got a menu, yet?" Randy asked.  "Am I gonna get my usual steak?"

"Sir, I really think you should branch out from steak and potatoes, be a
bit more adventurous."

"Are you saying I gotta eat spinach or quiche or something?"

"Not necessarily, sir.  Though I do a great quiche.  I know the old saying,
`real men don't eat quiche', but what I say is really real men don't give a
shit what `real' men eat.  My advice is, you mustn't be intimidated by what
people say, sir."

Randy grinned, "I'll bear that in mind, Red.  Er, do you think I'm a really
real man?"

"Oh definitely, sir – a really real, real man if such a thing exists."

As they chatted Bob glanced over at Randy, his blue eyes sparkling as he
looked affectionately at Will's earnest freckled face blinking behind his
glasses.  This was the Randy Bob loved best.  He was an extraordinary man,
the unchallenged boss, barking orders, quick to anger, quick with his
fists, but capable of tender affection for a boy like Will.  He was
protective, loving, enjoying the intimacy of conversation with the
energetic kid.

But eventually the conversation faded and Will, sitting contentedly between
the men, was left to concentrate his thoughts on his plans for the dinner,
while Bob focused on the road ahead.  In the silence that followed, Randy
rested his head back, his eyes flickered and closed, and he started to
doze.  He slid his arm from around Will's shoulders, and his hand rested
idly on the bulge in his own jeans.

Randy's breathing became heavy, with occasional low moans.  Will felt him
stir in his sleep and saw his hand sliding over his crotch.  Bob glanced
over and smiled, "He's dreaming."  And it wasn't hard for Will to imagine
what he was dreaming about as he saw the bulge grow and the shape of
Randy's cock stretch down his leg under the denim.

Gradually the groans grew louder, his hand more active, and eventually
Randy breathed in hard and grunted awake.  "Damn," he moaned under his
breath and tightened his grip on his crotch.  He stirred in his seat and
stretched his legs as his fingers stroked the long shape of his cock.
"Damn," he groaned again.

Suddenly Will spoke up.  "Sir, would you like me to suck your cock, sir?"

Randy grinned.  "Well, thanks for asking, Red.  You know I always go for a
blowjob except when I'm driving.  One of my rules – no cocksucking while
driving – too distracting.  But hey, what d'ya know?  I'm not driving.
I'm also horny as a toad.  So sure, kiddo, I accept the offer."

He opened the top button of his jeans, but Will said, "Leave that to me,
sir.  I'll take care of everything.  I'm good at that."

Bob and Randy exchanged smiles.  Something they loved about Will was his
simple directness, his deliberate matter-of-fact approach to everything.
He was as diligent about sucking cock as he was about preparing dinner.  He
took off his glasses, placed them carefully on the dashboard, then twisted
sideways in the seat and said earnestly, "Don't worry, sir, I'm
Eddie-trained."

He reached down to Randy's jeans, carefully unbuttoned them, pulled out
Randy's long, thick cock and methodically went about his work.  He bent
down and the tip of his tongue touched the pre-cum oozing from the head.
He pulled his head back, drawing out the viscous liquid in a fine, gossamer
thread.  Then he licked the long shaft from the head all the way down to
the thick mass of Randy's wiry pubic hair.

Randy grinned at Bob who smiled encouragingly before returning his
attention to the road. Randy ran his fingers through the mop of red hair
and pushed Will's face gently down on his cock.  His pal Eddie's training
paid off now as Will let the huge shaft slide all the way down his throat.
Breathing through his nose he swallowed the whole thing without gagging.

Will went to town on the cock, alternately clenching his throat muscles
round it, then drawing his mouth back as if to draw out semen.  He was
rewarded by deep, satisfying groans from Randy.  "Fuck, you're great at
this kid.  Man, that feels good."

At one point Will pulled back, turned his face up to Randy and grinned, "OK
so far, sir?"

Randy smiled down at the eager freckled face. "Sensational.  You're a great
cocksucker, Red.  Don't stop. Keep on doing what you're doing."  Will went
back to work.  He loved servicing the boss and used all the skills he had
learned from young Eddie.

Staring at the road ahead Bob smiled to himself listening to Randy's deep
moans of pleasure and Will's gentle slurping as they sped along the
highway.  He looked over at the rugged gypsy, so tough, but now so tender,
his hand placed gently on the head of the eager young kid he loved and
protected.

This was the Randy Bob loved most, the man who moved him almost to tears.
Randy looked up suddenly, their eyes met ... and that split second was one
of those fleeting magical moments when their souls joined and their love
overflowed.

Bob turned his face to the road again but Randy kept his eyes on his
handsome profile.  Whether it was his passion for this man, or the
sensuality of the boy's mouth massaging his cock, Randy surrendered to the
joyous sensation that seized him.  His body tensed, muscles flexed and he
yelled, "Fuck ... I love you guys ... I'm gonna cum ... drink it, boy
... yeaahh!"  Sperm poured from his cock, flooding the mouth of the young
redhead who eagerly gulped down every last drop.

<><> THE INGONITO DEADBEAT <><>

Randy laughed, grabbed Will's hair and gently pulled his face off his cock.
He bent down, licked the drops of cum from the boy's chin and kissed him.
When he released him Will efficiently buttoned up Randy's jeans, patted the
bulge and straightened up in his seat with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Damn," Randy chuckled, "that was epic.  Bob, remind me to have this kid
sit next to me whenever I drive.  You never know when I might need a
blowjob."

Bob laughed.  "I kinda think his dad Seth might have something to say about
that."

"No offense, sir," Will said, "I but I'd rather be in the kitchen than in a
truck – even with you, sir."

"And I kinda think the twins would have something to say about that," Bob
said.  Will's a cook, not a cocksucker.  Face it Randy, you're outvoted."

Randy pouted, then flashed his gleaming smile. "But we still got the gym,
don't we Red?"

The banter continued until at last Bob pulled off the freeway onto Highway
111 to Palm Springs, and in twenty minutes they were pulling up at the
gates of Mike's sprawling ranch-style home.  Hearing the truck, Uncle Mike
and Larry came out to meet them."

"Good to see you kids," Mike beamed.  "How's the arm, Randy?  Nice
uneventful drive?"  Will blushed and Randy grinned, "The arm's fine, Mike
... and as to the drive, hmm ..."

"OK, don't tell me, I don't wanna know."  Mike touched Will's cheek
lightly.  "What's this, kiddo?  I'd say it was dried cum if I didn't know
you're too nice a boy to suck dick in a moving vehicle."  Amid the
laughter, "Come on in – you're not the first to arrive – two other
guys beat you to it.

Bob and Randy went into the garden and smiled as Mario came up to greet
them.  "Ciao, signori.  How is your arm Randy?"  Carefully Mario hugged
Randy who squinted over his shoulder at a figure huddled in a chair dressed
in old baggy clothes, hidden behind dark glasses and a baseball hat pulled
low over his eyes.

"Who's that deadbeat character over there?" Randy grinned.

"Dunno," Mike said.  "He just kinda showed up.  Do you know him?"

"Never seen him before," Bob said.  "Probably best to ignore him."

Just then Will came in carrying a box of supplies.  "Hello, Uncle Mike.
Hello Grady, sir, nice to see you."

"Ah, Will, you just blew my cover," Grady groaned, whipping off his
glasses.  "I'm here incognito.  You're not supposed to recognize me."

Will smiled impishly.  "It's that star power, sir.  Can't hide that behind
dark glasses.  But you do look grungy, sir."

"Grunge was the look I was going for, Will.  At least I got that right." He
put the glasses back on.

Mario hugged Will.  "Ciao, bambino.  Don't mind Grady, he's just being
silly as usual.  Bob was right – best to ignore him."

Larry ran up.  "Hey, Will, let me take that box to the kitchen for you."

"Thanks, Larry.  I'll get the other stuff from the truck."  As Larry left,
Will hesitated and looked at Bob, who nodded encouragingly.  "Er, Uncle
Mike, sir," Will said.  "Can I ask you something?"

"Fire away, Will."

"Well, sir, you know I'm gonna cook this big dinner for you and the guys
tomorrow."

"Of course, we're all excited that you'll be in charge."

"Well that's the point, sir.  See, when I do my catering gigs, even though
I'm using another guy's kitchen I have to be in charge of the kitchen.
It's the way I work – the only way.  I realize it's really Larry's
kitchen so he should really be the boss, but ..."

Mike's craggy face broke into a smile.  "I know just what you're saying,
kiddo.  My advice would be to run that by Larry himself.  Ah, here he
comes."  Larry came back from the kitchen and Mike grinned, "Larry, Will
here has something to ask you."

Will hesitantly repeated his concern to Larry, who didn't even let him
finish before saying, "Jesus, what a relief, dude.  I was worried what part
I'd have to play in all this.  See, when it comes to the kitchen, I really
know my way around the microwave and that's it.  As a cook I make a great
motorbike mechanic.  Dude, of course you'll be in charge and I'll willingly
be your galley slave while you give the orders."

Mike grinned, "Good so that's settled.  And that goes for all of us, Will.
You need anything, just holler and you've got it.  And tomorrow you'll have
Eddie to help you when Hassan brings him out here."

"Thank you sir," Will said with relief – and got right to it.  "OK,
Larry, there's a bunch of other stuff in the truck and I could use your
help with that."

Larry saluted. "Aye-aye, sir, you're the boss."  And with a wink at the
other guys Larry obediently followed the head chef through the gate."

"That kid of yours is fucking adorable, guys," Mike chuckled.

"Not really ours, Mike," Bob said.  "He's the twins' boy really, and his
step-dad Seth's.  He used to live a solitary life and prepare meals just
for himself, that he ate alone by candlelight in his tiny studio apartment.
Now look at him – happy as a clam at high tide."

<><> GRADY STAYS HOME <><>

Mario looked at the huddled mess on the chaise and said sternly, "Amico,
take off those ridiculous clothes and go for a swim or something."

Grady struggled to his feet and copied Larry's salute.  "Aye-aye, sir,
you're the boss."  With dramatic exaggeration he whipped off the baseball
cap and flung it aside, then took off the glasses, pulled his ragged shirt
off and dropped his baggy shorts.  Butt naked and gorgeous, he flung his
arms in the air.  "Ta-da, I'm naked as nature intended and ready for my
closeup. Bring on the paparazzi."  He swaggered over to the pool and did a
prefect swan dive into it.

"God he's stunning," Randy said. "That face, the ripped body. No wonder the
paparazzi swarm."

Mario sighed.  "But they're no joke, Randy.  We almost didn't come because
of that.  One camera lens poking through the bushes – Grady naked with a
bunch of guys – could be disastroso for him, and a real, how you say,
downer on the party.

"And Will was right – that hat and the dark glasses do not fool anybody.
He can't go anywhere – like to Mike's bar with you guys.  Grady in a
leather bar, can you imagine what they'd make of that?  But he doesn't mind
– it goes with the job.  He just wants to veg out here in these lovely
grounds, his first real outing away from the Grady House in a long time."

"Poor guy," Randy said.  "If it's any comfort, Mario, while I'm here I'll
do the same thing I do at the Grady House and keep an eye on the security.
And when Mark gets here tomorrow we'll have a real live cop to back us up."

"Thanks, Randy, I was hoping you'd say that.  Gives me peace of mind."

Just then Larry came out with a huge grin.  "Guys, I've just been dismissed
– thrown out of my own kitchen.  Just as well `cos it's time for me to
go open the bar for the lunchtime crowd.  I can handle it on my own, sir,
with our young barback.  Tell you what, why don't you guys come by for a
drink?  Studs like you are always good for business."

After what Mario had said there were dubious looks all round, but Mario
said.  "Signori, the last thing Grady wants is to stop you all from having
fun – he would hate that.  He doesn't want to be the center of
attention.  So sure, we'll come with you, Larry."

"Great." Larry said.  "I asked Will too but he doesn't want to come.  He's
having too much fun in the kitchen, setting it up the way he wants and
preparing a light buffet lunch for later."

Mike said, "I'll stay here too, if you're sure you can manage the midday
shift without me, Larry.  I want you to be the star of the show, kid,
standing shirtless behind the bar under those red spotlights, making
everyone's dicks hard.  I'll keep an eye on Will – and Grady too unless
he puts the dark glasses back on and tells me he `vants to be alone'," Mike
laughed, adopting a deep Garbo tone.

Randy said, "I could sure use a beer – or two or three as I'm not
driving, with this fucking arm.  Wash off the dust of the freeway.  OK, if
you're all sure about this, let's hit it."

Mario went over to the pool and they saw him have a brief chat with Grady.
Grady smiled and nodded enthusiastically, Mario bent down and kissed him,
then came back to the guys. "Grady's fine.  In fact he's pleased we're all
going out.  Like I said, he was hating the idea that he was holding you
back."

So Bob, Randy and Mario followed Larry out to the trucks.  Mike went to the
kitchen, stopping on the way to pick up a package from his room.  He found
Will hard at work, having rearranged the kitchen and stowed the supplies he
had brought.

He looked up and smiled, and once again Mike was won over by that
freckle-faced grin under his owl glasses.  He was, of course, wearing his
usual dark green apron and chef's hat.  "Hey, kiddo, I just wanted to make
sure your OK.  The others have gone to the bar for a drink, and I don't
want you to work all the time and miss all the fun."

"But work is fun, sir.  I'm happiest when I'm in a kitchen, especially when
I'm preparing food for all you guys."

"Well, that being the case, when I knew you were coming out here I got this
for you."

Will opened the package and his eyes lit up as he pulled out a bright red
bib-apron. "Wow."

"I know you guys in the city have a different color for each house –
dark green for the compound, burgundy for the Grady House and blue for Doc
Steve's house.  So Larry and I thought we'd join the club and make our
color red.  That one's for you and there are two more for any helpers you
have, like Larry and Eddie.  It's up to you if you want them to wear them."

"Oh they'll wear them alright, sir.  They have to in my kitchen.  I'll make
them."  He took of his green apron and replaced it with the new one.
"Ta-da!" he smiled.

"Almost matches your hair," Mike grinned and Will threw his arms round
him. "Thank you, Uncle Mike, I love you for that.  I love you for
everything – what you do for Randy and Bob and all."

"And now you want me to get out of your kitchen and let you work, eh?"

"Pretty much, sir.  Somehow I don't see you in an apron."

"Me neither, kiddo.  Hey, could you help me set up a tray of martinis?  I
have a feeling that might be just the thing for our solitary movie-star out
there."


"Sure thing, sir.  Coming right up."

<><> GRADY TALKS - AND TALKS <><>

Mike carried the tray with a jug of martinis and two glasses out to the
pool where Grady was lying naked on his back on a float with his eyes
closed.  He opened one eye and grinned at Mike, who said, "I know it's way
too early for cocktails, Grady, but I thought `what the hell'?  It's never
too early for a good martini."

"Right there with you, Mike.  Right now a martini would just about hit the
spot.  Give me a minute."  He pulled himself out of the pool, toweled off
and pulled on a black speedo swim brief. He grinned, "You should never
drink a martini completely nude, I always say.  It's an insult to the
martini."

Mike laughed.  "Let's take them over to my favorite part of the garden –
my version of yours and Mario's Secret Garden.  He led Grady across the
extensive grounds and through a hedge to a particularly lush well-manicured
area – bushes, flowers and grass under shade trees.  He set the tray
down on a small wrought iron table with two chairs.

"I know Mario let your secret garden run wild, but if I did that here in
the desert it would end up just sand and cactuses.  Imagine making love in
a cactus garden – ouch. Now I quite understand if you want to be alone
– just tell me to scram.  I've been thrown out of classier joints than
this."

"No," Grady chuckled, "I could use the company, Mike.  People always think
that after the glitz and glamor of showbiz I want to be alone, but there's
alone and `alone'.  You know what Garbo said?  `I never said `I want to be
alone'.  I only said, `I want to be let alone!' There is all the
difference'."

Grady sighed. "Loneliness is a strange thing, Mike.  Did you hear what Seth
told Bob and Randy about his boy Will?  When he lived alone in a tiny
apartment he used to make a posh dinner and eat it all by himself by
candlelight.  That's kind of a pathetic picture but Will didn't think that.
He loved it apparently – he didn't feel alone `cos he had his delicious
food for company.

"Wow, listen to me getting all philosophical.  Let's drink, Uncle Mike."
Mike had been pouring the drinks while Grady spoke and they raised their
glasses.  Grady flashed that sexy smile that melted hearts on screens all
over the world.  "To being alone, but not really."  They clinked glasses.

"Mmm, just what the doctor ordered.  Mario and I do this, you know, Mike
– take a tray of martinis into our secret garden and sit and talk and
make love.  No cactuses in that garden," he chuckled.  "And even if there
were I don't think we'd notice.  Takes a lot to break us up when we get
going.

"But you know, Mike, there's making love and making love. Fucking's great,
of course, but you can make incredible love just by looking into each
other's eyes?  The guy who said that the eyes are the windows to the soul
got it right.  Don't you think?"

"What do I think?" Mike smiled.  "I think I'm sitting here with a guy who
needs to talk."

"Well there's talk and there's talk."  Grady slapped his own cheek. "Duh, I
sound like a broken record don't I, and the needle's got stuck? But I mean,
it depends who you're talking to.  You for example, we haven't really sat
down and talked, just the two of us.  There's always so many other guys
around.

"But take me and Mario.  You know, when you live with someone for as long
as we have, you run out of things to say.  We do, and then we're just left
alone with our own thoughts.  But not really alone `cos we are very aware
of each other and loving the silence."  He frowned.  "It's almost like our
thoughts are talking to each other."

The smile came again.  "Hey, Uncle Mike, switch me off, move the needle.
I'm sounding like young Eddie, rattling away like a machine gun.  Why am I
talking like this, like a guy who's just been let out of solitary?  I gotta
get drunk – maybe that'll shut me up.  What about you, Mike?  What are
you thinking right now?"

"You'll laugh if I tell you.  I'm thinking, I can't believe I'm actually
sitting here. I'll tell you a story.  A few years ago I was driving down
Sunset Boulevard and I saw one of those huge billboards they have there.
It was this incredibly gorgeous young jock, an underwear model –
ultra-handsome, perfect physique, wearing only black briefs, like the one's
you're wearing now.

"Well I couldn't let that go to waste, so I pulled over to the curb and
stared up at him.  My dick was hard as a poker and I pulled it out.  It was
now or never – I was never gonna get any closer to the guy, unless he
climbed down off the billboard.  So I jacked off, gazing up at my fantasy
man.  I fantasized about fucking him, and it didn't take long before I
groaned in my car and sprayed jizz all over myself.

"As I cleaned myself off I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a guy
sitting alone in the car parked behind me.  I panicked for a minute,
thinking he might be a cop.  Had my car been shaking? Was it even illegal
to masturbate in your car?  The guy's car started up, he pulled out and as
he drove slowly past me he lowered his window and shouted, `Gorgeous ain't
he?'

"I roared with laughter. The guy had been jerking off just like me.  As I
drove away I wondered how many other cars parked there had guys rubbing one
out as they stared up at the hunk on the billboard.

"But wait, there's more," Mike chuckled.  "There's a sequel to this story.
Some years later I saw a picture online of that same billboard guy, `cos he
was about to open as the star of the latest Tarzan movie.  Well there was
only one thing to do.

"I went to a middy showing of the movie.  I thought the theater might be
emptier at that time, but it was already pretty crowded.  I found a fairly
empty spot, sat down and pulled a coat over my lap – yeah, the classic
dirty-old-man-in-a-raincoat – and started to jerk off.  I came twice
during the movie – once when Tarzan first flashed that sexy smile, and
again when he got tied up and beaten by the soldiers.  I fantasized about
them fucking his gorgeous ass, that made me shoot."

"Yeah," Grady laughed, "turned me on too when we shot the scene.  I had
trouble hiding my erection under my loincloth"

Mike grinned.  "So why am I telling you this story?  Well you asked me what
I was thinking right now.  I was thinking this couldn't possibly be true.
Here I was, old Uncle Mike, bar owner, sitting across the table from the
very same hunk I had once stared at on the billboard, and then again on the
movie screen.  And we're talking, drinking martinis, in my own secret
garden.  I mean, what are the chances of that?  I have to keep pinching
myself to make sure it's true."

"Well you can stop pinching yourself, buddy, `cos it's true," Grady
laughed.  "I can't top that epic, but I do have a somewhat similar story of
my own.  You know we don't have too many visitors to the Grady House,
except the tribe of course.  And any newcomers have to be checked out by
Mario, he's so nervous they'll go blabbing all over town – `you'll never
guess who I met ...'

So anyway, he told me Randy and the guys were bringing a real good buddy of
theirs, an older guy who owns a leather bar in the desert. He was the uncle
of a solitary young kid named Brian, so everyone called him Uncle Mike.
Bob vouched for him and that was good enough for Mario.

"Now I've been friendly with several older guys in the past `cos I liked
talking to them, but I never had sexual feelings for them.  But when Randy
introduced me to this new guy it was different.  This guy was still really
hot – one of those older guys who worked out, was still in great shape
and ruggedly handsome, with salt-and-pepper hair and gray hair on his solid
pecs.  But more than that, it was the self-confident sparkle in his eyes
that age sometimes brings, the sense of seasoned wisdom and virility that
made him real sexy.

"I watched him at dinner, respected, admired, and loved by all the other
guys, definitely the senior man there.  Well, you know me, Mike, everything
always translates eventually into sex.  Watching you made me horny as hell
so I nudged Mario and asked if we could go upstairs.  He said it would be
rude for us both to leave our guests, so I went on my own and looked down
from one of our bedroom windows.

"I saw you roar with laughter and punch Randy in the shoulder, and I
recalled Mario telling me that big boss Randy looks up to you like a father
– you call him boy, he calls you sir, and you're not afraid to give him
a tongue lashing when he needs it. Seems you've even butt fucked the tough
gypsy.  In my book that is real macho, and as I stared down at you I wanted
the same.

"I imagined you pinning me to the ground and ploughing my ass.  Of course I
pounded my cock and, as you threw your arm over Randy's shoulder, you
smiled, your arm flexed – and that did it.  I sprayed jizz all over the
window – and felt great.

"I don't have a sequel to my story, Mike, except that later, when we went
up to our room for bed, Mario saw the streaks of jizz on the window that I
hadn't bothered to clean off.  So I told him the story and he laughed.
He's always pleased when I have fun, and he said, `It was a fantasy this
time, amico, but who knows?  Fantasies sometimes come true'."

<><> A PORN FANTASY <><>

After all their talk, the two men were suddenly silent.  Mike poured more
drinks and they smiled into each other's eyes as they drank.  Grady said at
last, "Seems to me, Mike, those two stories seem to mesh, and there's only
one possible ending to them both."

"I know what you're thinking, Grady, but I gotta tell you ... that guy on
the billboard sure made me jerk off and cum, but if I tried to fuck him I'd
be so intimidated I'd lose my hardon."

"But I'm not that guy, Mike," Grady protested. "I climbed down off that
billboard a long time ago and the guy sitting opposite you is your pal
Grady, just one of the guys – one who's been fantasizing about you.  And
you, intimidated?  You who disciplined and butt-fucked the toughest guy in
the tribe, tamed him into calling you sir?  C'mon, dude.  When I think of
you, one thing that don't come to mind is a limp dick.  And you said
yourself, this here ain't a cactus garden."

Grady's sparkling sense of humor was infectious and Mike relaxed.  "All you
need Mike is a nudge, and I'm an old hand at that."  He stood up and left
the secret garden, leaving Mike surprised and puzzled.  He took another sip
of his drink, wondering what Grady was up to.

He heard a sound above him, looked up at the tree over him and was startled
when Grady dropped from a branch and stood before him.  He stood motionless
in exactly the same pose he had struck on the billboard, gazing into the
distance, his hands clasped behind his back, wearing the same black briefs,
muscles flexed for maximum effect.  At last, the man had come down from the
billboard.

"Damn," Mike gasped, and his cock jerked in his pants as he got to his
feet.  Like that day in his car, he couldn't let this go to waste.  But
instead of gazing up at a large-than-life picture he was standing before
the model for the picture, the flesh-and-blood man.  And what flesh!  Mike
ran his hands over the smooth, sculpted muscles and chiseled features, then
tweaked his nipples.  The face winced, the muscles flexed harder.

"Ah, so you are real.  The same guy as the picture, the Tarzan who got
tortured by the soldiers. Get over here."  Mike shoved Grady and he
stumbled back against the tree. Instinctively he wrapped his arms back
round the trunk and clasped his hands behind it.  Again Mike squeezed the
nipples, harder this time, and watched the handsome face grimace and groan
in pain.

He slapped the hard pecs, then gut punched his abs lightly a few
times. "Hmm, those soldiers tortured you good but they missed out on the
worst punishment of all.  They should have shoved their dicks up Tarzan's
ass.  Looks like I gotta finish the job for them. Let's get a look."

Mike turned Grady around, chest against the tree, and clamped his hands
over the mounds bulging under the black briefs.  Then he yanked the briefs
so hard they ripped and came clear off in his hand.

"Oh yeah, fucking beautiful ass."  He slapped it hard and watched the while
globes bounce under the blows.  He spat on his hands and pushed two wet
fingers in his ass.  Grandy moaned and pushed his ass back onto the
fingers.

"Yeah, you're good and ready, stud."  Mike gave him a shove that sent him
sprawling on the ground on his back. He grabbed his wrists and dragged the
naked jock over the ground back to the tree. In the movie the soldiers had
pulled their shirts off, stripping for action – so did Mike. He was
wearing his usual jeans, boots and a khaki T-shirt that he now pulled off
over his head.

Grady inhaled sharply, looking up at the muscled torso of the older man,
stripped to the waist, bulging pecs and abs, gray hair on his chest.  He
even resembled one of the soldiers who had sneered at him in that famous
scene.

Mike wound his T-shirt into a rope, knelt down and pulled Grady's arms back
round the tree.  He tied his wrists behind it, then stood up and grinned
down at the naked jock lying on his back, arms stretched up, hands tied
behind the tree.

Grady struggled reflexively and Mike snarled, "Forget it, big guy.  You're
my prisoner, at my mercy – and your ass is grass, stud."

Playing into the fantasy Grady pleaded, "Not my ass.  Whip me, pummel me,
but not my ass."

"Only way to make you surrender, tough guy."  Mike unzipped his jeans and
pulled out his long, thick cock.  No problem getting an erection here –
it was rock hard.  He knelt between his legs, pushed them up and hooked
them over his shoulders, giving him a clear shot at the jock's ass."

"No ... please, man ... I ... aaagh ..." he howled as Mike's rod penetrated
his ass.  Mike gazed down at the muscular, writhing jock, the man he had
once jerked off to and was now, to his continued amazement, actually
butt-fucking as he lay bound and naked on the ground.

Mike knew Grady loved to get fucked, and the actor in him also loved to
fantasize.  As he pounded his ass Mike could tell Grady was doing that now,
reliving Tarzan's torture scene, tied up at the mercy of the bare-chested
older man whose dick pistoned inside him.  He was living the part, tugging
frantically at his bound wrists, his arms stretched up, muscles straining
like a prisoner tortured on a rack. His handsome features winced and he
groaned in pain.

It was a pornographic fantasy and Mike had rarely seen anything more
erotic.  His mind went back to the scene in the movie that had made him
jack off and spill his load.  Now it was real, his cock really was inside
this macho jock, an action-hero humiliated as they tortured his ass.

Mike was skilled at bringing a man to the limit of his endurance, then
backing off before renewing the punishment. And he knew how to turn a man
on verbally, especially a man like Grady who ran with the fantasy.  "I'm
gonna torture that ass, big guy until you beg for mercy.  You're a tough
son-of-a-bitch but I'll break you until you give me what I want.  You ready
to cooperate?"

"Go fuck yourself, man."

"You wanna play rough, uh?  The longer you hold out the worse it'll be.
I'm gonna keep you prisoner, my fuck slave, chained naked to the wall,
defiant, waiting for our next session.  I'll come back, work you over and
torture that ass, again and again, as long as it takes for you to spill
your load – a sign of submission.  When I've finished with you, you
won't be able to hold it back."

His captive remained defiant so Mike increased the pressure.  His ramrod
cock pistoned in his helpless ass faster and deeper, until even a fuck
slave like Grady could not hold back anymore.  His body writhing, muscles
straining to get free, he yelled, "OK, I'm done, man, I can't take any
more.  Please, sir, I'll give you what you want, I'll be your fuck-slave,
anything.  I can't hold back ... I'm gonna cum ... I submit ... aaagh!

His cock reared up and Mike watched in disbelief as a plume of semen
spurted high in the air, then another, and another.  The fantasy was
complete and the triumphant Mike thrust in deep one last time and blasted
hot juice in the tortured ass of the agonized jock.

<><> ADVICE FROM UNCLE MIKE <><>

Minutes later Grady, still dazed, was sitting on the ground leaning back
against the tree.

"Another martini, sir?" Mike smiled, sitting on the ground cross-legged
facing Grady, with the drinks tray between them.

"Damn straight," Grady grinned, "I need it after that.  Dammit, Mike, I was
right back there in that movie-set jungle being tortured by those soldiers
the way I fantasized about it even while we were filming – getting
fucked by their captain, a smoking-hot older man.  When the director
shouted `cut' he came over full of praise.  Said the agonized look on my
face was a terrific performance.  Little did he know it was no performance.
I was living it, getting off on it – just as I was with you, Mike.  How
did you get so good at fantasy?"

Mike chuckled.  "Grady, I've been around the block many, many times and
I've picked up some talents along the way.  You are a pornographic icon,
dude.  That fantasy of a macho muscular Tarzan getting captured, tied up
and ass-tortured, is the stuff of dreams for many a hot-blooded male.  And
I actually got to live it, for real.

"Hey, one day, Grady, I would love to work you over with my boy Larry. He'd
go apeshit – you know, the whole thing, maybe in his bike repair shop,
maybe him and me in leather, you streaked with grease, clothes ripped, tied
to a bike, sprawled over it, getting tag-teamed by two bikers."

"Stop, stop, Mike," Grady laughed, "you'll have me going again.  Look I got
another boner already.  I gotta save some for Mario."

"How is that going, son, you and Mario?  You know he's the most precious
thing you got going, don't you?"

"Sure I do, Mike.  I couldn't get through this crazy life of mine without
him.  And we've even got plans for when all the celebrity bullshit has gone
away.  Bob manages our finances and he says we already have more than
enough to live a good life on our investments, even if I never work another
day.  I kept hold of that little house I owned in Laurel Canyon, rustic,
hidden in the trees.  We dream of living there together one day, having
fun, making love, cooking for ourselves."

"My boy Brian would still live with us, Danny too maybe, so it would be
just the four of us living a quiet, simple life, a contrast to the luxury
of the Grady House."

"So, er, is Mario OK with you doing the kind of stuff we just did."

"Oh, sure, he encourages it.  I'm gonna give him a blow-by-blow description
of what we did and he'll get off on it and we'll probably fuck.  Thing is,
Mike, I can't really play out rough-trade stuff with him, like we just did.
I mean, look at him, a gorgeous, classy Italian, so when we make love our
fantasies are different.  But when I want a taste of the rough stuff, I
tangle with guys like Randy and Zack – and now you, Mike – you and
Larry too one day soon, I hope."

"I'm glad to hear you and Mario are in it for the long term, Grady.  You
know, I always say I don't give advice to couples – then I break my rule
and give advice anyway.  So I'll just tell you one thing, dude.  My
experience with long-term couples is that very often one is the charismatic
star, center-stage, in the spotlight, while the other works backstage,
quietly supporting the star.

"Randy and Bob are a classic example.  Randy is a natural leader of men,
the boss wherever he is, a magnetic personality, drawing everyone to him.
Bob is more subdued – though just as powerful as Randy in his quiet way.
So my advice to Randy is never to neglect Bob or overlook him – and he
has been guilty of that sometimes in the heat of the moment.

"You of course, are the star, an actual star and I've seen how Mario
supports you quietly, but commandingly, in the background.  He runs your
house and vets every new guy before inviting them in.  Now I'm sure when
you get home from the studio sometimes you're wound up tight as a drum,
demanding, and the center of attention."

"I know what you're saying, Mike, and thank you for reminding me.  Sure, I
take out my tension and bad temper on Mario, but I hope that I make it
clear to him afterwards that he is the light of my life.  But I do need to
be reminded of that, Mike, and if ever I have that kind of problem I'll
sure as hell turn to you."

They hugged, long and hard, and only parted when Will appeared.  "Sirs,
lunch is served, and the guys have just come back from the bar.  It's a
buffet lunch, so take your time, sirs."

Will, discreet as ever, seemed unfazed by Grady's nakedness and Mike's
shirtlessness.  Grady looked up at him and broke into a wide grin.  "Hey,
you're a dazzler today, Will.  What's with the bright red apron?"

Will smiled shyly.  "Uncle Mike gave it to me, sir.  It's this house's
color – like the Grady House is burgundy and our compound is dark
green."

"Well it looks terrific on you, kiddo.  Almost matches your hair.  OK,
sorry to be late for lunch.  We've been talking a lot and ..."

"... and other things, sir."  Will completed the sentence for him and Mike
laughed, "Very diplomatic, Will.  The twins trained you well.  OK, we're
coming."

When they followed Will to the lunch table the guys gathered there were
less diplomatic.  Far from it – they greeted the pair with cheers and
wolf-whistles.  Not surprisingly, as Grady sauntered up butt naked, the
shredded remains of his briefs draped casually over his shoulder, and Mike
shirtless, with a glow on their faces that could mean only one thing.

Randy roared with laughter.  "You two made the most of the secret garden, I
see.  Did it hurt, Grady?"

Well Randy, it's not a cactus garden if that's what you mean.  As for the
rest, we'll leave that to your lurid imagination."

Larry, ferrying food from the buffet to the table, joined in the laughter
and Mike said, "Hey, Larry, you look pretty swift in that getup."  Like
Will, he was wearing a red apron and white chef's hat.

"Will made me wear it.  Said I couldn't help him in the kitchen unless I
did.  Banned me from the kitchen – my own kitchen!"

"Good for you, Will," Mike said.  "He could use more discipline.  Sure
beats that bike repair-shop look – greasy overalls and tank."

Mike sat down and pulled Larry down beside him and spoke quietly.  "Boy, do
I have a story for you.  And next time I want you right there with me.
We'd make a great tag-team with the right victim.  And have I got a victim
for you, dude!"

Grady too sat with his lover Mario, who smiled and kissed his cheek.  "Have
fun, amico?"

"Dude you will not believe.  In bed tonight I'll tell you – maybe show
you," he grinned roguishly.

Randy stood up, "Gentlemen. Now that Mike and Grady have done their thing,
and before we dig into this food, I ask you to raise your glasses and drink
to our terrific chef Will, looking cuter than ever in dazzling red ... To
Will."

As they toasted him, Will, in time-honored fashion, whipped off his hat,
raised it high, then swooped it down low in a dramatic bow.  Then Randy
pulled him down between himself and Bob.  Now you eat too kiddo, and tell
me about your plans for tomorrow."

Soon, tomorrow was the topic of general conversation, and the
much-anticipated arrival of Mark and Jamie, Hassan and Eddie.  Larry asked,
"Do you think Hassan and Mark will go out to Hassan's little old house way
out there in the dunes?"

"And spend all their time in the basement," Bob said, "otherwise known as
the dungeon – or just 'the cell'.  Those guys go back a long way as most
of you know – way back to the Mid-East war where Mark, then an army
corporal, was captured and interrogated by the Arab Hassan.  They've been
kind of replaying that scene ever since."

"With a little help from their friends?" Larry asked hopefully.

"It's been known," Bob smiled.  "It used to be a private affair, but not so
much anymore.  I wouldn't be a bit surprised if Eddie and his camera
intruded on the scene."

"Ah," Grady said dismissively, "you don't need a dungeon for a bit of
interrogation fantasy.  All you need is a secret garden, a captive in black
briefs, and a hot mother-fucker who don't take no for an answer."

"Plus a cactus plant or two?" Mario smiled.

"Nah, that would be taking things a bit too far, even for me.  Not in my
wildest fantasy."

"I'll keep that in mind, amico.  Just checking."

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

TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" – Chapter 555


Hey guys, this is Rob Williams. I hope that chapter got you off, and I
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