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.