LUST ON THE FIFTIETH FLOOR from the Files of TABOO TOPICS (714) 240-8480
When the elevator door opened on the Fiftieth Floor, I knew I was in Heaven. When Kronenberg built his titanic office building, and certain wags of the city snickered about how much his skyscraper looked like an erect penis, certain insiders knew the scoffers were absolutely right.
Jay Kronenberg had amassed a fortune with shrewd real estate deals, leveraged buyouts, and stock transactions. Everything was totally above board, he was legally untouchable, and oddest of all, his money had not gone to his head.
That was particularly amazing because Jay Kronenberg was only 29!
Something not circulated among the general public, though, was that Jay Kronenberg was homosexual from his blond hair to his manicured toenails. But he was also a man!
Nobody admitted to his presence for "personal" interviews was ever able to resist him. He was simply too goddamn handsome! I met him years ago when he was still a struggling investor, and even then he was irresistible.
Part of his allure was that he was completely ego-less. If he liked something done to him, he would do it right back to you. Fair is fair. And there were some things at which he excelled. That nasty tongue of his drove me into ecstasy more than once.
In many ways, Kronenberg was like a narcotic. Once he got you under his spell, once you surged your hot jizz into his mouth or felt his sperm pumping into your ass: you fell back, blasted out of your mind, and his masculinity became the homing beacon for your sex drive from then on.
A sex session with Jay Kronenberg was incredible. He invited you into his leather-trimmed office. His phones were shut off--for his secretary to answer--and the doors were automatically locked. He didn't conceal his gay lifestyle from the public, but locked doors prevented awkward interruptions.
"Now for some fun," he would say as he rose from his chair. "There's a closet over there if you need somewhere to hang your clothes." He didn't beat around the bush. He immediately began to strip, and he expected you to disrobe, too.
Imagine a mega-rich, immensely powerful, 29-year-old stud with a gym-tailored body to die for pulling off his $2400 suit while you watch! Imagine the feeling of stripping for a man who has millions at his command but wants only you-- for those couple of hours.
Kronenberg's handsome torso was shaved. He was as smooth as a leather-covered billiard ball. And speaking of billiard balls, his sexual equipment was the talk of the gay community!
His cock at full erection approached 12 inches long! It was so big, it stuck up above his navel! His balls, which hung halfway down his thighs--even at erection, when most men's would draw up close to the groin--were at least as big as hen's eggs, maybe bigger!
Nobody who ever got a look a Kronenberg's endowment was ever the same. Gays became his adoring slaves. Straights, if they happened to see him in a shower room or something, were forevermore inferiority-ridden by the comparison to his huge dong. I even knew of some straights who had gone gay simply because they were so awe-struck by Kronenberg's cock; they developed an obsession about it.
The Kronenberg Building was an immense skyscraper, but the magic number for the gay community was Fifty, the floor of sexual madness. No offices were established on the fiftieth floor. No one in the business community knew what went on there.
Only Jay and a few of his intimate friends knew that it had been built as the ultimate sexual playground for men. The great inaugu- ration of the fiftieth floor would take place on New Year's Eve, 1994.
As an old acquaintance, and someone who had digested more than a couple quarts of Kronenberg's jizz, I received an invitation. Knowing this would be one of the greatest sexual extravaganzas in the history of homosexuality, I immediately went into training.
I refused all sex from the moment I received the invitation. I would not waste one calorie of strength with an orgasm or one dram of sperm with an ejaculation. I even slept on my side so I wouldn't have a nocturnal emission when I got too horny.
I read and re-read Jock magazines because they made me so goddamn horny, the spunk almost oozed from my scrotum. But then I did nothing--no jack-offs, no cruising--because I wanted to build up the sexual pressure and the reserves of cum.
When the big night came, I spent hours picking through my jockstraps. I finally picked one I had worn quite a bit. It had a few frayed seams, which made it look easy, well-worn, and street-wise. I knew Kronenberg liked black leather, so I pulled on a pair of midnight-color chaps over my bluejeans. I wore a simple white T-shirt, but one that showed my nipples through it.
I took a taxi to the Kronenberg Building, entered the ornate main entrance, and in the elevator, I punched the button for the fiftieth floor. I was on my way. My cock rose with the elevator. By the time the doors opened, I was at full hardness.
I looked out into a room of such bacchanalia, it was impossible to describe. Hunky, well-built men of every age, size, color, and endowment were grouped in duos, trios, quartets, quintets, and more! Kronenberg had the money to supply his party with only the bestdeveloped of America's manhood, and he got 'em!
The whole place was designed to contribute to manly arousal. The walls were slick and shiny, covered with orange tiles. The light they reflected was ruddy, horny, and cock-hardening. Round windows punctuated the walls, windows that made you think of balls, assholes, piss-holes, and open mouths.
The floors were soft, rustorange carpeting. Many men lay, squatted, crouched, or knelt on it, and it was already spotted here and there with pools of jizz. The walls, too, were splattered with sticky milk.
I didn't see our host right away, but that didn't matter. I felt the inquiring hand of a nearby stud, and when I turned to look, I saw a big guy who could have been a tackle for the Raiders. I smiled. "Hi ya," I said.
"If you just got here," he said, "would you like a little tour around the place?"
His hand was fondling between my legs, and that feeling pushed my curiosity about the building in the background. "Yeah," I said slowly, "after I hear you panting in my ear to stop."
"You'll never hear that," he said so softly I barely heard him. He had unzipped his pants, so I saw what he was packing a good eight or nine inches of prime California beef. With a quick movement, I pulled open the buttons of my fly, and he squeezed the big bulge of white cloth that jutted out. I heard him sigh and he fondled my jockstrap.
I thrilled to the feel of it. After 10 days of total inactivity and constant teasing, my cock was ready for anything. "My name's Jerry," he said as he slid down my pants. I seized his pants, too, and shucked them down.
The room was dotted with couches and overstuffed chairs, and Jerry pulled me down into one. I fell against him, and I felt like I was falling onto a Roman statue--but he was a living Roman statue that stood six-foot-four and was made out of real meat. He wore a black leather vest and armbands, and they matched his black hair and goatee.
Jerry was one horny-looking dude. The more I looked at him, the hornier I got, until I finally threw myself on him, spreading my legs wide and maneuvering my asshole over his up-jutting cock. I finally got the alignment, and I sat down, ramming that hard dong into my ass.
Oops, Jerry's big pecker was much bigger than I figured--or my asshole was unready for him. When I felt it slam up into my guts, my ass-ring stretched to a new dimension.
It hurt bad, but the pain was also a sort of drug--I couldn't stop! I knew exactly what he meant when he said I would never get him to say, "stop." I couldn't stop, myself!
I raised and lowered myself on his cock, feeling little sparks of pleasure shooting out from his dick as it slid in, and long fibers of pleasure spreading through me with every withdrawal. It felt sooooooo good! I closed my eyes and reared my head back, my mouth lolling open with lust.
I asked for it. As I took a deep breath, I got a heroic dick stuck into my mouth! I opened my eyes and found that I had been invaded by another hunky stud, a guy who had pushed a chair closer to us and stood on it so he could get his cock to my mouth.
I drooled. He had a big pecker, and he shoved it deep into my face. My mouth became a great O, like the windows around the room, as it slipped over the new guy's ruddy member. "God, 'at's got it, mate," he gasped. "I ain't seen nothin' like this since I left Sydney! You Yanks sure know how t' throw a party!"
God, Kronenberg had international studs here! My Australian stud gave me a chance to use my blowjob skills: my tongue circled his glans on every out-stroke, and I reached my hand up to fondle his balls as I sucked.
The Aussie had a big cock, and when I took it down my throat, I couldn't breathe! I figured he was close to an orgasm, though, and I also figured I had a minute or so before I would have to yank him out to breathe. So I wallowed his cock all the way down my throat till my nose nuzzled in his fragrant cockhairs.
He smelled like a kangaroo and his dick jumped like one too. Before I could say "waltzing Matilda," he pumped me so full of sperm, I was burping white bubbles for half an hour.
Then he pulled out and slapped me on the back. 'Thanks a million, ya ol' digger," he crowed, "'at's the best suck-off I've 'ad in this country!"
I beamed with patriotic pride. Then I got back to my reverse-fuck job on Jerry. I hadn't stopped my humping while I did the blowjob, but I had reduced the strength of my strokes. Jerry hadn't minded-- his face was flushed from watching me suck off the Cock from Down Under.
Jerry's face raged as he finally got his happiness down under. I reached down to squeeze his jewels, helping him to a harder orgasm.
When he came, I continued to bounce up and down on him, and his cock grew so large during orgasm, I swear his cockhead swelled so great, it wouldn't pull out of my ass! It was much bigger inside than my rectum! We were stuck together like two dogs!
That was the weirdest experience I had ever had! I couldn't get free of this guy, and his cock spewed what must have been gallons of slime into me! Finally, when his bliss finally ended, some of the blood left his cock-head, and his gigantic knob shrank enough to slip out of my ass.
"Jesus, man," I gasped. 'You were into me like a German Shepherd."
Panting, he lay back in the chair and smiled. "That happens sometimes," he said, "but only with guys who are real tight." He smacked me on the ass, and I smiled.
Just then our host happened by. Kronenberg looked like a million bucks. He wore nothing but a pair of black leather chaps and a black jacket. His famous cock stood out for all to admire.
Kronenberg stood about 6'4" (a little shorter than I), and he weighed about 225 pounds. He had a thin face with an masterful expression, and his pale blond hair was tousled in a style that didn't look salon-groomed at all.
He had a hefty build, but it was proportioned and beautiful, like a swimmer's. He looked like some sort of Viking warrior. His nipples were horny points--and anybody who knew him well had learned that a quick-connect to the libido of Kronenberg was to suck or tweak those magic buttons. He had the belly of a gladiator and the buttocks of a racing bicyclist.
The focal point of Jay Kronenberg's torso was his famous 12-inch prick, which stuck out with a graceful arch like the neck of a swan. His cockhead was arrowheadshaped, and it was as red as a for- est mushroom.
Although his body was shaved, he kept a small snarl of pubic hair. It was traditional.
Jerry went berserk. "God, what a cock," he grunted, and he got out of the chair. He slipped to his knees on the carpet, and moved over to Kronenberg's crotch.
He was something. Jay looked over at me and smiled as Jerry worshiped him. His hands touched Kronenberg's thighs worshipfully, and his tongue touched the mighty dick gently. He was almost reverent about it.
"Think you can deep-throat that?" Kronenberg asked.
'Oh, no," Jerry moaned. 'It's too big! I don't even know if I can get the cockhead in, but...argh!" He got it in.
Jay and I looked down on the helplessness of the true cocksucker. Kronenberg gripped Jerry's hair and pulled it, giving the addition of twinges of pain to Jerry's already growing arousal. It was such a horny sight as Jerry sucked and stroked the big dong, I pulled out my own prick and started to stroke it.
I'm uncircumcised, so when I jack off, the foreskin pops onto the cockhead and back off again with every stroke. That makes a fwap- fwap-fwap sound that is a little embarrassing, but since I heard that same sound coming from about 20 places in that room, I let myself go.
Jerry really got excited. I saw his eyes glaze over, and from the look on Kronenberg's face, I could see he was getting ready for the great explosion, too.
It was incredible. All three of us got off at once! I felt electric thrills shooting through my balls, and my family jewels twinged with ecstasy. At that same instant, Kronenberg grunted loudly, and I knew he was pumping about $250,000 worth of the family jizz into Jerry's mouth.
Jerry didn't let go of a single drop. He was even more of a man-- he came, too! I was amazed. Jerry's cock spewed gobs of milky slime all over the carpet--just from the excitement of pleasuring another man!
When my ejaculation came, I didn't know where else to shoot it, so I aimed my dick at the back of Jerry's head. He looked good with strings of semen matting his hair.
When Jerry finally backed off, he discovered something many people don't know: Kronenberg can maintain an erection for the incredible time of more than an hour! And he can do that while going through innumerable ejaculations!
Kronenberg is truly a man's man.
"Jesus," Jerry murmured, and I patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about it," I said. 'Nobody can suck Kronenberg down."
Jerry gasped. "You're Mr. Kronenberg?" he said, his voice almost echoing with awe.
"Yes, and I'm interested in this expanding cockhead idea," Jay said. He looked at Jerry. 'Would you like to fuck me?"
"Fuck you? Fuck you, Mr. Kronenberg?"
"Hey, loosen up. A second ago, you sucked my cock. Call me Jay." "Sure, Jay. You really want me to fuck you?"
"Yeah. I want to feel what it's like to have a cockhead in your ass so big you can't get it out."
Well, with that, Kronenberg lay back on a couch and spread his legs. Jerry pulled his butt-cheeks apart, and Jay's pursing ass looked like a tempting little rosebud.
Jerry lowered his face to it, and I saw his tongue snake out and into the heated asshole. Jay groaned in a husky voice. Although he had missed the kissthe-nipples part, Jerry had blundered into another of Kronenberg's personal turn-ons. He was crazy for rim jobs.
I could see the waves of thrill rolling through his body. He reared his head back, a man in paradise.
Jerry crawled onto him, pulling Kronenberg's knees up to the level of Jerry's arms. Jay's feet went up around Jerry's shoulders as the smaller man rolled his pelvis back. When Kronenberg's mighty dick was horizontal, sticking up his chest, and his asshole was open to attack, Jerry licked his lips, stroked his rod to final hardness, and sank it into the millionaire's bung-hole. I sucked in my breath at the sight of those two heavy-pronged men. What a sexy experience!
Kronenberg's chute stretched far enough to take in Jerry's meat. It was when Jerry got his climax that his cockhead grew to incredible proportions.
Jerry grunted and groaned, humping like a natural man, fucking the rich man with all the savage revenge of a poor man. Then it happened. Jerry froze for a second, and I knew he was dying and going to Heaven.
With little winces in his butt I could count the ejaculations of hot cum he was shooting into Kronenberg's ass. Then it was over, and he collapsed onto his employer.
"Now pull it out," Kronenberg gasped.
He couldn't. Again, Jerry's dick was too big to pull out. At that, Kronenberg suddenly struggled and wrestled and forced his way to his feet. Jerry, of course, had to follow. They were stuck together like dogs.
"This is incredible," Kronenberg sighed. "I can feel you inside me, and as long as I keep my ass-ring tightened around you, you're holding the size of that big cockhead. It won't come out!" He walked around, dragging Jerry for a few moments, then he released his butthole, and Jerry's cock gradually shrank down to portable size. Then it slipped out.
"That was amazing," he said. He looked at Jerry with a smile. "This fiftieth floor is going to become a recreational floor for my male friends," he said. "Would you like to work here as an 'attendant'? That trick with the irremovable cock is truly remarkable."
And that's the way the whole night went. Five-thousand sex acts took place, four hundred gallons of sperm were generated and shot, and a score of men got jobs with the Kronenberg organization.
Because that's the kind of guy Jay was: a real man.