The trip had begun as a promise between three of the senior men - Randy the King of the Gypsies; Bob the business executive; and Mark the blond cop - to spend a weekend together and flex the muscles of their three-way love affair. Mark had suggested bringing his boy, the young surfer jock Jamie, which prompted Randy to invite his boy Pablo.

But it had been a tumultuous start to their weekend in the Guadalupe Dunes. Pablo and Jamie had long been nursing a mutual resentment that boiled over into a physical fight. Bob had called Doctor Steve and sought his advice, which was, as usual, the make-love-not-war kind, and Bob had taken the lead in ordering the boys to literally "kiss and make up."

As a result the boys discovered that their resentment had been stifling a deep affection they had for each other, not to mention virile young lust that rekindled as they surfed atop the waves side by side. When they finally skidded to a halt on the beach they flung their arms round each other. "Shit, I've been such an asshole," Pablo said, "so blind."

Jamie grinned, "Well, buddy, we gotta make up for lost time." They ran up to the shack, their eyes gleaming, and Pablo said to Randy, "Sir, me and Jamie were talking and we wondered, well, if it would be OK if we pitched the tent in the dunes and spent the night there together."

Randy rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw, teasing them with frowning contemplation. "Hmm, not so sure about that one, kid. What do you other guys think?" Bob and Mark stifled smiles and shook their heads doubtfully. But then Bob said, "I dunno about you guys but I don't wanna be kept awake by two horny young bucks fucking all night on the floor of the shack."

"Hell no," Mark said, "the tent's the place for that kind of stuff. Maybe we gotta say yes."

Jamie flung his arms round him. "Thank you, sir. You're the best." He grabbed Pablo and they ran off to the truck to unload the tent. Bob smiled smugly, congratulating himself on taking charge and wielding his authority to bring about this happy outcome. But a frown came to Randy's face and Mark said, "What's the problem now, big guy?"

"Well, I guess things worked out OK. It's just that it kinda pisses me off when we three are together and one of us takes over, makes all the decisions, gives the orders and we tag along like his damn servants. Hell, man, I'm supposed to be the boss of this outfit and you're a fucking cop for Chris'sake. We don't have to put up with that shit, do we?"

"Fuck no," Mark growled. "It's about time a certain bossy Senior-fucking-Vice-President executive stud got cut down to size. Any ideas?"

"Yeah, plenty. Wait 'til we get him in the shack tonight - just the three of us. His ass is grass."

He stared at Bob who caught the twinkle in his lover's eye and quivered with anticipation.


Later that night, when the men were in the shack and the boys in their tent, it happened that back in town in Steve's house Grady's mind was also on sex. He was lying alone in bed, fantasizing and stroking his dick, when his phone rang. He took his hand off his cock, grabbed the phone, and smiled when he heard the sexy, accented voice. It was the very man he had just been fantasizing about.

"Amico, mi scuso for calling so late but are you working tomorrow?"

"Er, yeah Mario, but it's a light day and we should wrap early. Then I have two days off."

"Eccelente. I would like to meet you after work and take you for that dinner I promised at my favorite Italian restaurant. Afterwards, if you still have the energy, we can make a start on your, er ... your Italian lessons."

Grady's acceptance was instant. "It's a date Mario. I'm glad you called. I'll phone you tomorrow when we've wrapped."

After he hung up Grady realized that his cock was harder than ever. His thoughts lingered on Mario's hesitating 'er' before 'your Italian lessons'. Was he sure the handsome Italian meant language instruction - or something else? Whatever - Grady's fantasies now provided the 'something else' as he pounded his cock and came all over his washboard abs.

Then Grady fell asleep, his body wet with cum, his mind crowded with dreams.


While Grady slept and dreamed, and Pablo and Jamie crept into their tent and into each other's arms, 'making up for lost time', Bob was facing a far different fate in the shack.

As darkness fell, moonlight shone through the windows and blended with the soft ceiling lights to create a strangely suspenseful atmosphere - at once soothing, dramatic and above all erotic. Maybe it was simply the projections of three horny alpha men, but sex definitely hung heavy in the air.

The feigned anger Randy and Mark had expressed earlier for Bob's 'arrogance' intensified now and they turned fierce gazes on their lover as he stood naked (and gorgeous) before them. "Let's get him, man," Randy said and they each grabbed an arm and dragged him on his back on the bed. There were ropes hanging round the bed posts (standard equipment on pretty much every bed the tribe owned) and they were quickly put to use securing Bob's wrists.

He lay spread-eagled on the bed, his muscles flexing under the lights as he pulled at his restraints while the gypsy and the cop stared down at him, deciding his fate. "Now that looks fucking hot, dude," Mark said. "Look what he's doing to me ..." The cop dropped his shorts and his rigid shaft sprang out, pointing at their writhing captive.

"You too, uh?" Randy said, pulling down his shorts and displaying his massive dick, thick as a beer can and long as a pole. "Hell, nothing turns me on like a macho muscle-stud like this guy tied down helpless at the mercy of two other top men." He and Mark stroked their cocks and smiled wickedly at Bob's stiff rod standing erect from a thicket of dark pubic hair.

"Will you look at that?" Mark said. Seems like this stud really wants to get worked over.  What are we gonna do to him, buddy?"

"Nothing," Randy grinned. "We're gonna punish him like this ..." He turned away from Bob, stared straight at Mark and pulled his head toward him in a fierce man-on-man kiss. Their muscular bodies pressed together, their hands folded round and clamped onto the other guy's ass cheeks as their mouths churned in a hungry embrace.

"No," Bob groaned, tugging at the ropes desperate to touch his cock. It was agony to helplessly watch the two men he loved ignoring him and making love to each other, the construction worker's swarthy, stubbled chin grinding against the blond cop's square-jawed face. "Guys, don't do this to me. Let me just touch my cock."

They paid no attention, engrossed as they were in each other. Finally they pulled apart and Randy said, "Officer, out there on the beach you hammered my ass in front of my boy. Can't let you get away with that. You know me - always gotta even the score." Randy leapt on the bed and stood there towering over Bob but looking down at Mark, his cock level with the cop's face.

"I think you know what to do, big guy." Mark ran his hands up over the gypsy's tree-trunk thighs, over his swinging balls and finally grabbed Randy's slim, sinewy waist. He gazed at the huge cock pointing straight at him, opened his mouth, licked the head of the cock, then pushed his face forward and slid his mouth over the long shaft, swallowing it deeper and deeper until his face was buried in the wiry black mass of pubic hair.

"Eat it, cop," Randy groaned in the euphoria of seeing and feeling the cop's handsome face moving up and down on his cock. Seeing the expression on both their faces Bob pulled even harder against his restraints, his body writhing, face wincing in a futile attempt to join in. Deliriously he begged, "Suck my dick, guys, fuck my ass, whip me, anything, only touch me ... and let me touch you."

But Mark continued to make love to the gypsy's rod, seemingly oblivious of Bob's desperate pleas. Randy grabbed the shock of blond hair and pulled Mark's face hard onto his iron-hard shaft. "Shit, man, that is fucking epic. Watching a hot muscle-cop going down on me, submitting to me, makes me wanna bust my load in his mouth. Damn, I'm close."

But suddenly he pulled away, leaving Mark open-mouth, with spit and pre-cum running down his square jaw, eyes brimming with tears. "No, officer, a blow job don't cut it. Like I said, you fucked my ass and you know my rule ... a fuck for a fuck and an ass for an ass. On your knees, cop."

Randy got off the bed while Mark knelt astride Bob's waist, facing him and the wall mirror behind him. He fell forward on hands and knees, his cock brushing against Bob's but not making eye contact, staring instead at his own mirror image and the reflection of Randy looming behind him. He saw Randy spit on his dick and wrap his fist around it (the closest he ever came to lubing it).

Randy stared at the white globes of the cop's ass, outlined by sharp tan lines. "Officer, you have one helluv an ass. Fucking beautiful, man. You need a real top man like me to satisfy a butt like that." He slapped it lightly and watched the mounds bounce under the blows. Then he pressed the head of his wet cock between the cheeks and drove the long shaft deep inside.

"Aaagh!" Mark yelled, opened his eyes wide and instinctively looked at Bob for the first time. Bob knew what his friend was feeling, having endured that first painful thrust of the gypsy's cock himself many times, and he struggled to free himself to assist Mark. But then, realizing this was only making matters worse, Bob relaxed and smiled up at Mark, who took solace in his soft brown eyes. The pain dissolved as Mark saw in Bob's eyes that he was feeling vicariously what Mark felt physically, the gypsy's massive cock pounding his ass.

The bond between them was so intense that it seemed Randy was fucking both of them while they made love with their eyes. Randy was aware what was happening and flexed his muscles, feeling empowered as he stared in the mirror at the muscle-god cop impaled on the gypsy's cock, his naked body shuddering, his blond hair flying as he gazed down at Bob's Superman face, wincing with each thrust of the ramrod in his ass.

Randy pressed his hands on Mark's hips with increasing force until the cop's knees slid out from under him and his stomach fell flat on Bob's flexed abs. Their cocks were now squeezed between them rubbing against each other every time Mark jerked forward from the force of Randy pounding his ass from behind.

The sensation of Mark grinding against him drove Bob wild. Mark's arms were stretched out straight, hands braced on the bed, but suddenly his arms buckled and he fell on his elbows, his face jolting down to within inches of Bob's. The look between them intensified and Mark gasped, "He's reaming my ass, buddy. I don't know how much more I can take."

From over his shoulder Randy stared down at Bob and said, "There's one way you can help him, man ... one way you can make it stop."

Bob could always read Randy's mind. He gazed up at the cop's grimacing face and said, "Kiss me, Mark." Mark quickly untied Bob's wrists, fell on top of him and their mouths met in a ravenous embrace. Bob could see Randy's stubbled gypsy face grinning down at him, he could taste Mark's tongue probing his mouth and feel the cop's hard cock grinding against his.

He felt the full weight of Mark's muscular body now pressing on his, their pecs sliding against each other, and he dug his fingers into the solid muscles of Mark's back. "That's it, buddy," Randy shouted, seeing the familiar about-to-cum look in Bob's wide eyes. "Do it, man. That's an order..."

Mark pulled his face back and said, "You heard the man ... I can't take his dick anymore. Help me, buddy. Cum!" Bob inhaled sharply and gasped, "Yeah ... fuck ... fuck ... here it comes ... I love you, man ... aaagh ..." His cock exploded between their writhing bodies, a river of sticky semen that joined them together.

Mark was seconds from his own orgasm when suddenly Randy pulled out of his ass with a shout of triumph. With a howl of frustration Mark yelled, "I gotta fuck ass." He got back on his knees, his cock already slick with Bob's semen. Bob instinctively pulled his legs back and the cop drove his shaft deep inside him.

Never one to be left out, Randy plunged his cock back inside Mark's ass and fucked him while the cop fucked Bob. Bob stared up at them both and moaned, "Fuck me, guys ... oh yeah ... you're making me cum again ... shit ... yeah ..." Bob shot another load over his own chest and face, an orgasm that made his ass contract round Mark's cock. Mark's scream echoed round the room as, at long last, he pumped his sperm inside his buddy's hot, tender ass.

Bob sobbed emotionally as Mark fell forward to embrace him and Randy pulled his dick out of his Mark's ass. He paced round the bed, stroking his cock and looking down at the homoerotic image of the muscular cop and the naked Superman locked in each other's arms.

Randy shoved Mark with his foot. "Hey officer, you gonna let me grab what's left of the action here? I need to get my rocks off too, ya know." Mark obligingly rolled off Bob and lay on his back beside him, both of them staring up at Randy looming over them stroking his huge rod. They knew what inevitably came next but Bob groaned, "No, Randy. I already shot my wad twice, I don't think I ...."

Randy fell to his knees on the bed, his eyes blazing. "What the fuck did you say? You don't want me? You can't cum again? Who the hell d'you think you're talking to? This is me asshole ... the man who always makes you cum when he fucks your ass. So, you wanna rephrase that?"

Bob looked up at the fierce gypsy with the laser blue eyes and a look of anger that always turned Bob on. "I'm sorry, Randy. Please fuck my ass, sir. Make me cum again."

The note of contrition coming from the gorgeous alpha male, begging to get butt-fucked, was what turned Randy on most about him. Randy was a man's man... he loved to fuck top-men, the more dominant the better. And they didn't come hotter than Bob.

Randy leaned forward, braced his hands on the bed on either side of Bob, their faces close, and slid his cock easily inside his man's already cum-slicked ass. They both groaned, feeling the exquisite sensation they had felt so often before but which always took them by surprise. Their eyes met in that marriage of the minds that even they did not fully understand, only this time Bob frowned, seeing residual anger in Randy's blue eyes.

Randy spoke softly. "Man, you always make me mad when you refuse me like that. Don't do that, buddy, 'cos it scares me ... scared that you're tired of getting fucked by me. It's all I got, man, being a great fuck and making you cum no matter what."

"Randy that's bullshit and you know it. There are a million reasons I love you." He grinned. "Though I gotta admit feeling your dick in my ass is right up there." Randy was now fucking him firmly but gently, each thrust deeper than the one before. "Let me show you," Bob said. "Go deep inside me and stop."

Randy eased his cock in deeper and deeper until the head passed over the inner sphincter and came to rest in the hottest chamber of Bob's ass. With a smile on his chiseled features Bob gazed up at Randy who saw himself reflected in Bob's brown eyes. Here they were, back in their own private world, and Bob reached up and ran his fingers over the gypsy's handsome, dark face, wiping away the tears brimming in Randy's eyes.

"I will always want you Randy ...your dick in my ass, your arms around me, your head on the pillow beside me. Don't you get it? I love you, man. And it's love, not lust that makes me do this now ...."

His eyes gleamed with penetrating intensity, as if he were seeing his lover's soul. He felt the huge shaft buried in his ass, his body shook ... and he sighed deeply as his cock spurted juice up onto Randy's chest. Without moving, Randy felt all his pent-up passion erupt in the inner depths of Bob's ass. Motionless, gazing into the infinite mirror of the other's eyes, they came again and again.

Beside them Mark was spellbound, knowing he was witnessing something close to magic between the two men he loved.


"Give me a hand here, Mark. This guy's got jism all over him - we gotta clean him up."

Randy had pulled his dick out of Bob's ass and he and Mark, lying on either side of him, bent over his face and licked the sweat and cum off it, kissing his brow, his eyes, his cheeks - three alpha males making love. Randy pulled back and grinned, "So, officer, you think the bossy executive here has had enough? After all, we both butt-fucked him and he shot three loads."

"Yeah, I reckon he's pretty much finished," Mark smiled.

"Now wait just a goddam minute," Bob frowned. "I'll be the judge of that. Now let's see here..." He counted off on his fingers. "The cop fucks the construction boss, they both fuck the businessman ... so what's wrong with this picture? There's a piece missing. Oh, I get it, the executive still hasn't shoved his dick up the boss's ass."

Just then they heard Pablo's muffled howl of joy coming from the dunes. "Hm," Bob said, "sounds like the boss's boy is getting reamed by the surfer jock. Well, the boss himself will have to wait 'cos I'm in no hurry. So I'll keep him in suspense and wait 'til the big tough gypsy begs me to fuck him. G'night, fellas." Bob rolled on his side, pressing against Randy's back, his cock rubbing against his ass.

Mark lay behind Bob, his arms round him, and whispered in his ear, "Don't think you'll have long to wait, buddy."

"Assholes." Randy had overheard and determined to sleep. But the warmth of Bob's body against his back and the stiff dick pressing against his ass were too much for him. "OK, asshole, fuck me."

In reaction to this gruff order Bob said, did you hear anything, Mark?"

"Not a thing," Mark murmured.

"Me neither." Bob snuggled tighter against Randy, who heaved a couple of deep sighs of frustration.

After a long silence Randy groaned, "Please, man, I wanna feel your dick in my ass. Please ... fuck me ... fuck me ... sir."

"Be my pleasure," said Bob lightly. "Here, Mark, give me a hand. Hold him down."

And that's how it ended. When finally they slept Bob's dick was still in Randy's ass and Mark's rod inside Bob - as close as three top men could ever be ... in every way."


The next day, with everyone's sexual appetites satisfied, they could all relax ... lounging, surfing, jogging, laughing ... three men and two boys just hanging out together.

Meanwhile, as they played, one guy back at the house was working extra hard. Mario was putting the finishing touches to a landscaping project, hurrying to complete it before he got ready for his dinner date with Grady. From the office window three awestruck young faces stared at the handsome gardener, stripped down to jeans and boots, his dirt-streaked, muscular body gleaming with sweat, curly black hair falling over his brow.

"Dudes," Eddie said to Brandon and Ben, "that is one hot Italian gardener, like the first scene of a porn movie where the muscle-jock gardener sees three boys watching him and ends up fucking them all."

"In your dreams, dude," Brandon said. "Mario's probably saving himself for Grady. You know they're having dinner together later. Wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall of that restaurant."

Ben interjected, "Yeah, well a guy can dream, can't he? And jack off. I kinda go for Eddie's fantasy." In seconds they all had their dicks out and were pounding them hard, fantasizing on the image of the shirtless Italian gardener fucking each of them in turn.

Outside, Mario grinned as he heard muffled screams coming from the office. He had a fair idea what was going on, but Brandon had been right - Mario was focused on Grady right now, wondering how their evening would turn out.

In the office the three boys were busy washing their jizz off the office wall and Brandon became all business again. Eddie, you know the arrangement. Nate has loaned you out three afternoons a week to become an office assistant. Remember what Bob said? No fooling around - and I'm pretty sure that would include spraying jizz over the wall. With Jamie away we got a lot of stuff to get through."

"Aye-aye, boss," Eddie saluted, with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

"And I gotta get back to the construction site," Ben said. "Pablo's away too so I'm the only mechanic there. Randy's not there so Zack's the boss and he can be as tough as Randy. See you later, amigos."

Brandon and Eddie got back to work and didn't raise their heads from their computer screens for some time. When they finally took a breather they glanced through the window and gasped. "Wow, is that the same guy?" Eddie said.

Mario had come down from his room having showered and changed for his date - a total contrast to the dirt-streaked sweaty gardener of earlier. He was a picture of European casual elegance, wearing a black silk shirt flopping open halfway down the front giving a glimpse of his tanned chest underneath. The shirt was tucked into beige slacks with a stylish brown belt round his slim waist, and he wore loafers with no socks.

"You know," Brandon said, "you gotta hand it to the guy. He doesn't dress for sex - you know, no tight pants, bulging crotch or stuff like that - but he manages to look ultra-sexy in the clothes he wears. Look at the proud way he moves, relaxed, full of confidence..."

"... and sexy as hell," Eddie agreed. "Man, Grady's gonna go ape-shit when he sees that. He might wanna skip the dinner and cut straight to the fuck."

"I doubt that," Brandon said, deflating Eddie's raunchy enthusiasm. "Mario's not that kind of guy. He's not all about fucking (though he's real good at it). He says you shouldn't miss what he calls 'the finer things of life' - good food, companionship, conversation. Nah, I doubt Grady's gonna have his legs in the air in the first few minutes. It'll take a lot longer than that."


Brandon's assessment was pretty much on target except for one thing. As he climbed into his truck Mario was not feeling exactly relaxed. His apprehension bordered on nervousness at the prospect of going on what Grady called a date. Like all the other men and boys at the house Mario had been stunned when he first saw the dazzling young gym jock, and then watched with amusement from the sidelines as Grady worked his way through the men and boys in turn.

It was obvious that Grady had a healthy libido and an obsession with beautiful men but, confidently macho as Grady was, it had been a surprise for Mario to learn of his reputation of loving to get fucked. No wonder every member of the tribe wanted to fuck the soon-to-be movie star.

Mario also knew that, in many ways, he and Grady were as different as men could be, given their backgrounds. Grady was an All-American male, with the joyful enthusiasm of a young man from the Mid-West, riding into Los Angeles where his youthful charm and spectacular looks quickly landed him a successful modeling career and now a starring role in a major movie.

Mario, meanwhile, was quintessentially European, an Italian from an old-style family, looking around his boisterous new home with quiet amusement. He was as reserved as Grady was exuberantly outgoing.

It was not easy for an ex-patriate like the traditionalist Mario to fit into the casual, unruly world of Southern California where everyone seemed to be making it up as they went along. So he didn't try. He clung to his Italian ways, his culture and clothes and hoped that people would take him as he is. In fact he was so charming and good-looking that the men of his new home would take him any way he was - clothed or naked. Especially naked.

Mario hadn't a clue what he and Grady would talk about over dinner. Would conversation dry up leaving only sexual attraction between them? Of course sex would be great but for some reason Mario found himself hoping that there would be more to their 'date' than that.

Grady had suggested that Mario pick him up from the studio. He would text him when his last scene wrapped for the day and would arrange for a drive-on pass to the back lot. Mario's nervousness increased as he drove into Burbank and up to the main gate of Warner Studios. He said to the guard that he was there to pick up Grady and the man smiled broadly. "Ah yes, our Grady. They're on our biggest sound stage, 29. Here's a map. I hear they just wrapped."

Mario got a little lost on the sprawling lot but eventually found Stage 29. Not sure what to do he parked near the entrance just as the big doors were rolling open. He got out of the car, feeling disoriented, when suddenly, "Hey, Mario." Grady ran through the doors like a gust of wind and gave Mario a quick hug.

"Man you look fucking hot," he said quietly. "A stud like you better watch out around here or you'll find yourself getting cast in some movie or other. I hear they're short of handsome Italians right now," he laughed. "I still gotta take my makeup off and get dressed so come to my dressing room.

Grady had come straight from the set and was still wearing only his Tarzan loin cloth. As he strode through the sound stage he was greeted on all sides with friendly ribald comments. "Hey, Grady," shouted one of the grips high on a scaffold. "You going home like that? Tabloids would love it ... great publicity ... Tarz walking through Burbank in his loin cloth."

Grady laughed and gave him the middle finger. "I've got one word for you, Bert. Fuck you!"

"That's two words, jungle man," Bert laughed

"Oh yeah? Well I always was lousy at math." Amid the gusts of laughter he added, "Anyway, they don't pay me enough to pull off a stunt like that. Hell, I'll swing through the trees if the money's right." That brought more raunchy suggestions from all sides and Grady, smiling broadly, strode across the stage with both arms raised high, giving the crew both middle fingers and a boisterous "Fuck you all. And you can quote me on that."

Several crew members made hand motions as if dialing a phone and holding one hand to the ear. "Hello, National Enquirer?"

With laughter ringing in their ears Grady led Mario through a maze of corridors and into his well-appointed dressing room. "Wow," Mario said wide-eyed. "So this is what a star dressing room looks like. I'm impressed. And they all seem to like you a whole lot."

"What's not to like?" Grady grinned, raising his arms and flexing his muscles. He looked magnificent - Tarzan in his loin cloth, playfully showing off. Mario naturally got a boner under his slacks, but it wasn't even Grady's gorgeous body that turned him on most. It was his roguish high spirits, his laughter, his obvious popularity with all the crew.

Mario's nervousness was gone, along with his stupid fears about running out of things to say at dinner. Spending an evening with this fun-loving man would be terrific.

Grady untied his loincloth, flung it in a corner and paced the room, with no trace of embarrassment, as if unaware of his nakedness and certainly not flaunting it even though his dick was hard. He sat down at the dressing table and smeared white greasepaint remover cream over his face. He rubbed it in, then wiped his face clean with a towel. He splashed toner on his face and turned to smile at Mario. "How do I look, amico?"

"Good enough to eat, signore. And talking of eating ...."

"I know, I know, I'm starving too, buddy. Two seconds. He stood up and matter-of-factly pulled on the black briefs he always wore, then blue jeans. He stuffed his stiff cock inside and zipped them up. Then he grabbed off a shelf a clean white V-neck T-shirt and pulled it on, hanging snugly over his muscular physique.

He pulled on sneakers then suddenly looked up in alarm. "Hey, buddy, you're all gussied up and here I am in jeans and a T-shirt. Am I gonna be good enough for this restaurant?"

Mario laughed. "Amico, it is a very friendly, casual place. And you look so perfect you could probably get away with wearing your loin cloth. Come to think of it...."

"Mario, the only response I have to that is the one I gave Bert back there ..." and he flipped him the finger. He kissed Mario on the lips and said, "OK, amico, andiamo. I think that's Italian for 'let's get the hell out of here'.


When they were in the truck Grady said, "Good, you brought a blanket. You never know but there's often paparazzi and groupies outside the gate hoping to get a candid shot. Then they would follow us. So just to be on the safe side ..." He dived onto the floor and pulled the blanket over him. At the gate Mario said thanks to the guard who smiled, "Goodnight, sir." Then he grinned over at the blanket. "'Night, Grady." "'Night, Harry," came the muffled reply.

There was a cluster of press outside the gate and they peered at the truck. One even took a picture of Mario but then they fell back, losing interest. Mario drove for a mile keeping watch in the rear-view mirror, then said. "È sicuro, amico. You can come out now."

Grady emerged and ran his hands through his tangled hair. "Stupid ruse, I know, but it always works. The boys are expert at playing pool-boy driving out of my house. Brandon looks cute playing the ditzed out kid who 'don't know nuthin', accent and all.

Grady regaled Mario with stories of evading the paparazzi and soon they were pulling into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant. Having just come from Grady's world, they were now in Mario's territory, which was evident as soon as they walked in.

A motherly woman at the door called to her husband, the chef. "Ecco Giorgio, è Mario. Ciao bambino." She threw her plump arms around Mario, almost stifling him. Then the rotund chef came out and he got a second bear hug. "Bello come sempre" he said which Grady guessed meant 'handsome as ever' - and he'd second that.

Grady hung back, but not unnoticed. A woman and her two daughters approached him shyly and asked for his autograph. Publicity stills of the New Tarzan were by now everywhere and he was often recognized. He charmingly signed for the star-struck girls while Mario said to the owners, "Mi amico, Grady."

"Benvenuto signore." And Grady got the same bear hugs as Mario. Mario asked if they could be seated at a secluded table off to the side and soon they were facing each other across a corner table, beaming at each other with a feeling that this was somehow a new beginning. "Hell, Mario, you think I was popular in the studio?" That's nothing to the reception you got here. They treat you like family."

"We are from neighboring villages in Tuscany, amico, so we have a lot in common."

"Tuscany's one of my favorite places in the world. When I did photo shoots in Milan I went down there as often as possible. I even dreamed of living there. Tell me about you village, Mario."

And they were off. The food arrived, wine flowed and so did the conversation. Mario described his village, the people, their stories, and Grady discovered it was not so different from his small Mid-Western town. They laughed as they compared small-town gossip, competing to come up with the most outlandish stories.

Time flew by and they bonded - two beautiful young men discovering how much they had in common - and how much they liked each other. So engrossed was Grady in the Italian's charm, enthusiasm and accented voice that he was surprised to notice that he had lost his hard-on.

He felt a momentary stab of panic - he always had a boner when he was with Mario - but now it didn't seem to matter. He was usually so aware of the Italian with the flawless physique and handsome features, but now he was mesmerized not so much by Mario the beauty as Mario the man. So instincts of sexual arousal were replaced with a feeling of warmth and affection, a sense that he had known Mario for a long time rather than being on a first date. The term 'amico' took on a whole new significance.

Suddenly they heard a discreet clearing of the throat and looked up with surprise to see that they were the only customers left and Giorgio and his wife were clearing the other tables. "Mille scuse," Mario shouted. "We are keeping you late. We're going home now."

Mario paid the bill and the old couple looked at them knowingly. They raised glasses of wine and Giorgio said in heavily accented English, "To our new friend Grady. Enjoy each other."


On the drive back Grady and Mario were mostly silent, with Grady resting his hand lightly on Mario's leg. They were not sure what was happening or even where they were going until Mario cleared his throat and said, "Er, I can take you back to your home at Steve's house ... or ... well, sometimes I offer guests a late-night brandy, espresso and Italian gelato. Is delicious but if you ..."

"Yes, yes, I'd like that a lot," said Grady a little too quickly. "I mean," he grinned shyly, "your gelato has quite a reputation in the house." And so, fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in Mario's small but elegant room, with white muslin curtains waving at the windows and the smell of brewing espresso in the air. Grady sank into an armchair, sipping brandy, watching Mario move gracefully around the room.

They took up their conversation where it left off in the restaurant and were soon chatting and laughing like the old friends hey had become. They drank espresso and fed each other gelato. Grady tilted his head back, opened his mouth wide, and Mario held up a spoonful of ice cream. He gazed into Grady's sparkling eyes, let the gelato slide off the spoon and drop into his mouth. Then he quickly clamped his mouth over Grady's, sucked the ice-cream out and swallowed it with a beaming smile.

And so it went on, hour after hour, talking, laughing and sipping brandy. But eventually their eyes started to droop and Mario slurred his words as he said, "Amico, there is no way I can drive you home. Officer Mark would arrest me as soon as I got behind the wheel."

"Amigo ... amico ... buddy," Grady stammered. "Do I look like a guy who wants to be taken home?"

"But I make it a rule," Mario said solemnly, pointing drunkenly at Grady, "that nobody passes out in my bed fully clothed. It's so not cool. So here ..." He pulled Grady's T-shirt off over his head and they proceeded clumsily to undress each other, giggling like drunken schoolboys. Leaving their clothes strewn over the floor, brandy glasses and coffee cups littering the table, they climbed into bed butt naked and lay like spoons, with Grady's arms folded round Mario.

They were asleep in minutes. And it had never crossed their minds to fuck.


Next morning as everyone gathered for breakfast the air was abuzz with gossip and the rumor mill was going full tilt, fed mostly by the three amigos. "So nobody's seen them since Mario went to pick him up at the studio?" Ben asked.

"We saw them," said Kyle. "Kevin and me were working late in the kitchen prepping this morning's breakfast and we saw them come home from dinner ... together."

"Did you see them leave?" asked a wide-eyed Eddie.


Brandon's eyes blinked fast behind his glasses. "So that means ... they're still up there." All eyes turned upward to the window of Mario's room, where nothing stirred except the muslin curtains.

"I'm gonna wake them up - see what they've been doing," Eddie announced.

"You'll stay right there, boy," Hassan commanded. "What Grady and Mario are doing is their business, certainly not yours." Eddie sank back in his chair with a disgruntled frown, as Bob said, "Maybe when we've all finished the twins could take them up some breakfast. I have a feeling they'll be hungry."

"Yeah, hungry for each other," Eddie laughed, then caught himself and pursed his lips as Hassan glared at him.

So the boys had to wait until the table was cleared and the twins had time to put breakfast trays together. Brandon wheeled himself over to the rose bushes, picked a red rose and put it in a water glass on one of the trays. "Red rose for love," Brandon blinked solemnly."

"Hey kiddo," said his master, Ranger Pete, "don't go jumping to conclusions." But the boys all assumed he was right.

Upstairs Grady and Mario were finally stirring in each other's arms. Mario opened one eye and said, "Hey, dude, who are you, and what are you doing in my bed?"

"Beats the hell out of me," Grady said sleepily. "Did we ... you think we ...?" Mario frowned, "Don't think so - too drunk." They sounded like a couple of teenagers waking up in bed after a drunken prom and wondering if they had 'gone all the way'.

They were saved by a knock on the door, and the twins came in. "Gentlemen, we were wondering if you would like some breakfast."

Mario sat up, "Guys, you didn't have to do that." The covers stirred and Grady poked his head out with a beaming smile. "But we're glad you did, boys. Smells terrific."

The twins left the trays on the bed and retreated discreetly. Mario turned to Grady, smiled, and kissed him on the lips. Then they turned their attention to breakfast ... they drank juice and made short work of the food. "Damn those guys can cook," Grady said.

Mario said softly, "Amico, last evening I had a great time ... the best I've ever had."

"Me too, buddy," said Grady, wiping Mario's curly black hair back off his face and kissing him again. "And we didn't even fuck. Hard to believe."

"I need a shower," Mario said, pulling himself out of bed.

"Er, do you want company?" Grady asked tentatively, still not sure where all this was going.

Mario smiled seductively, "It is, as we say, obbligatorio. Come." They luxuriated in the shower, soaping each other, kissing, hugging, water streaming down their beaming faces and rippling bodies.

Grady felt Mario's rigid cock and said, "I'm still confused, Mario. I'm not sure if you had this in mind but I gotta do it." He dropped to his knees, stared at Mario's beautiful cock and slid his mouth over it. He reached up and ran his hands over Mario's hard wet pecs, while Mario threaded his fingers through Grady's hair and pulled his face further onto his cock.

But suddenly they both realized that, from the time they met at the studio, sexual desire had been building up inside them, but they had been so engrossed in each other they never seemed to get round to that. They got out of the shower, dried each other off, and sat naked on the edge of the bed gazing at each other.

"Mario," Grady said. "I'm not sure what's going on here. I mean, you know I'm obsessed with beautiful men and normally, being with a man as sexy as you, the first thing I would do is get fucked by him. But we spend the whole night together without even... I mean, it's not that I didn't want to - I'm nuts about you - but ...."

"Sshh," Mario said, pressing a finger against Grady's lips. "I am old fashioned enough to like getting to know a man before having sex ... That's what I was doing over dinner, but it didn't quite work out the way I expected. See, watching you talk and laugh I even forgot how beautiful you are and ... well ... I know I shouldn't say this but ... I had the craziest idea I was falling in love with you." Mario blushed. "Now you can forget I ever said that, amico."

"Why on earth would I want to forget something as beautiful as that? Like I said, I'm not sure what's happening to me, but I do know this. I want to make love to you, Mario." Grady leaned over and kissed him and instantly they were in each other's arms, kissing passionately, rolling over on the bed, licking, biting, squeezing their bodies together until they gasped.

In the end Grady was on his back staring up at the Italian. "You know what I want Mario ... except I've never wanted it in quite this way. Sure I want you to fuck me but ... hell, I feel I know you so well, Mario, that I just want us to make love, like good buddies who ... I dunno what I'm trying to say ..."

"Like good buddies who simply love each other, is that it?"

"Pretty much," Grady grinned shyly.

"Bene," Mario smiled. "Now that's out of the way we can explore." He knelt over Grady and said, "We'll take it slowly, amico. This is uncharted territory for us both. So first, something familiar to the two of us." Mario reached under his bed and pulled out a jar of lube. He dipped his fingers in, pushed them in Grady's ass, then lubed his cock.

Grady looked up at the stunning Italian and said, "I'm scared, Mario. Not scared of getting fucked, hell no, but scared 'cos I don't know what's happening to me. It's all so new I ... aaahh ..." He sighed deeply as Mario eased his cock slowly into his butt. He reached up and traced his fingers over the contours of Mario's face and chest, mesmerized by the man he had talked with, laughed with and slept with. And now this gorgeous man was inside him.

"Mario, you're so fucking beautiful, I love being here with you ... I don't wanna leave ... I love you man. I'm gonna ... oh fuck ... fuck ... I'm gonna ... aaagh!..." His cock spurted jets of cum high in the air, splashing on Mario's heaving chest. Tears rolled down Grady's cheeks as he moaned, "I'm sorry, man, that was too soon but ... man it feels so fucking good and ... I love you buddy. I do ..."

Then with a hint of panic, "Don't stop. Mario ... don't pull out ... don't leave me ... I need you inside me ... it's so good...."

"Don't worry, amico" Mario smiled. "I won't stop ... I won't leave you. I'll be here as often and as long as you want. Now relax and let us get to know each other better.

And then they made love ... really made love as neither of them had before. They stared at each other bewitched, then their smiles turned to laughter as Mario shouted, "I'm cumming inside you, amico ... here it is. Their laughter became delirious as Mario's erupted in his ass. Mario fell forward and stifled Grady's laughter with a kiss, still fucking his ass.

"Don't stop, Mario," Grady murmured. "Please don't stop."

"Amico, why should we stop when it feels so good? We don't need ever to stop. We can make love forever."

It seemed like forever as they rolled over on the bed, Mario inside Grady's beautiful ass. They kissed, fucked, licked, laughed and were barely aware, as they rolled over in each other's arms, that Mario had pulled out and was now sitting on Grady's cock. "Oh yeah," Grady shouted, "so fucking beautiful. I'm gonna fuck you, stud ... I'm gonna cream inside that Italian ass."

"Italian ass," Mario giggled. "That sounds so dumb."

"Shut up and roll over, asshole. I'm gonna make you cum again." On top of him now Grady held Mario's legs up high and pounded his ass. Mario's tears of laughter turned to sobs as he stared up at the gorgeous man impaling him on his cock. "Grady, fuck me, fuck me. I gotta say it ... I am in love with you. I want to make love to you forever. Let me feel your juice inside me ... please ... yeah ... yeah ... oh man ... yeah ... yeaahh ..." This time they came simultaneously, Grady deep in Mario's ass and Mario all over his own face and body.

But still they didn't stop. They were not even aware who was fucking whom. They were making love in a wild surge of passion that went on and on until they lost all sense of time or place. They were together, two beautiful men in love, making love, discovering new sensations, feelings they had never felt, as their magnificent bodies churned together - fucking, cumming, smiling, sobbing in a euphoria that went way beyond physical lust.

Mario repeated his former words. "Like two good buddies who simply love each other, eh buddy?"

"Is that what this is, my friend?" Grady laughed through his tears. "All I know is, I don't want it to stop ... ever."


Hours later they were curled up together, exhausted, elated. Calmer now they still kissed, licked and smiled into each other's eyes, but they were at last beginning to realize what was happening to them. They talked softly, but this time not about their past (as they had in the restaurant) but about the future. Mario said that when Grady had the time he would take him to Italy and show him a Tuscany he had never seen before, despite his numerous visits.

Grady talked about his future as a movie actor, how complicated that life could be - "especially when you're sharing it with someone," he grinned. At those words Mario nestled closer and lay his head on Grady's chest. Grady stroked his hair and said, "You know we've been in bed all day, buddy?"

Mario chuckled. "I know, and the rumor mill outside must be churning like crazy. I'm surprised they've left us alone." As if on cue there was a knock at the door. "Talk of the devil..."

The devilish eyes that peered round the door belonged to Eddie. "Er, sorry to interrupt, guys, but I was wondering if you'd like your room tidied up. I can come back later if you're ... busy."

He looked around the room wide eyed, the scattered clothes, remains of breakfast, and he took deep breaths of the heady scent of semen.

"That is molto gentile of you, Eddie."

"Oh, 'gentilly' had nothing to do with it, Mario. It's my job."

Both men exchanged smiles, knowing that Eddie's real reason for coming was his bursting desire to know what was going on. His big eyes flicking round the disheveled room betrayed him. "I can have this tidy in no time," he said eagerly, picking up Grady's briefs and folding his T-shirt lovingly over a chair-back.

Grady winked at Mario. "But we'd be grateful if you would keep this to yourself and not tell the other boys." Eddie looked up in alarm. "Oh ... well ... sure, sir, if you think..." He was totally crestfallen and Grady laughed and put him out of his misery. "OK, kiddo, you can spill the beans ... only don't exaggerate."

"No need for that, sir," Eddie beamed at the two gorgeous naked men in each other's arms. "No need at all. Oh, by the way, sir, the twins told me to ask you if you wanted dinner brought up on a tray. It's nearly that time, sir, and everyone's starting to gather round the table. Or should we expect you to join us?" He emphasized the last part, making it clear what his preference would be.

"We must not put the twins to that trouble," Mario said. Grady agreed, "OK, Eddie, we'll be down right after we've showered."

Dying to go down and 'spill the beans' Eddie sped round the room cleaning it up, grabbed the trays and bumped through the door with the parting shot, "Enjoy your shower, guys."

Downstairs the boys mobbed Eddie for information, which he breathlessly delivered with round eyes and exaggerated descriptions despite his promise. Then silence descended while they waited. Everyone was gathered by now and Bob murmured to Randy, "Never seen them so quiet - like they're waiting for the Pope."

The Pope couldn't have got a wilder reception. When Grady and Mario finally appeared, in jeans and T-shirts, their arms round each other's shoulders, they had 'lovers' written all over them. Their dazzling smiles were so bright they could have just discovered gold. Which in a way they had.

It was a standing ovation. The tribe always recognized a coupling of two of its members and this new pairing was so obvious and so popular that the cheers and whistles were deafening. The two men blushed and Mario smiled at Jamie who was thrilled to see his friend so happy.

They sat together at the table, with Brandon on Grady's left. Grady grinned at him affectionately and Brandon said, "Sir, does this mean that you won't ... you know ... like ... be having sex with us guys anymore."

Grady ruffled his hair. "Kiddo, how could I give that up? Mario and I talked about that and we plan to follow the house rule ... 'as long as it stays in the tribe'. So we're pretty relaxed about all that. 'Course, a lot of the time we'll see other guys together ... and you, my boy, will be right at the top of the list ... if Pete agrees."

Bob grinned at Randy. "Well, Brandon sure settled that one. Be interesting to see how it all shakes out. I see the wheels spinning in your mind already, big guy."

"Yeah, I was thinking ... this probably means I'll have to build another extension on the house. Shit damn, it's hard to keep up with this tribe.


TO BE CONTINUED in "A Trial Of Strength" - Chapter 285


Rob Williams

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