A gay story: Reunion on Staten Island Ch. 02 Reunion in Staten Island 2
Two guys continue their relationship
There have been lots of requests for a sequel to Statie Island Reunion. This is pretty much stand-alone, but it is helpful to have read the first story first. All characters and places are fictional despite apparent references to reality. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18. ©2024, Brunosden. All rights reserved.
It’s late Friday afternoon. Mom left for Ft. Lauderdale yesterday after closing on the house. My meager possessions had been moved (by me) to a storage locker on the Island on Wednesday afternoon. I had supervised the move of her stuff on Thursday and she had stayed the night with a friend. I had taken two and half days off from work at F&B and would pay the price–with long Saturday and Sunday hours.
I can’t believe all that has happened in the last two weeks. Mom is gone and will play very little role in my life in the coming years. I’ve got a new apartment–across the river near Battery Park–I get to move in next weekend. I haven’t even seen it yet, but Billy showed me a few photos. It’s going to be a big step up from my last place. It’s a high one-bedroom with a river view. I’m temporarily staying with my high school buddy on the Island. Billy is a monster–6-4, at least 220 with muscles on muscles. At heart, however, he’s a nearly hairless teddy bear. He’s real light skinned (but deeply tanning-parlor tanned) and blonde–and except for his pony tail, he could pose for Mr. Clean–the big-chested, smiling genie. Except MC doesn’t seem to be carrying anything in his tights in the ads. Maybe MC is in drag. But that’s not Billy’s problem. He’s hung. And we are fucking up a storm! I’m getting off every day, often twice. I’ve never had so much sex before in my life! Some mornings I can barely make it to the gym. He’s definitely a powerful fucker! And insatiable!
We had met almost a month ago on the boat when we were both returning from Manhattan, late. I had had a really dry period in my social life and a particularly bad day. So had he. I had been working and billing unbelievable hours. In fact, in the past year, I’d only had a few dates and only one had ended in bed. (And if was with a young lady who piked me up and whom I never saw again.)
He me for a drink, seduced me and I fled his apartment after he jerked and sucked me off.
I was up most of that night trying to figure out what I was and what I wanted. There was no question that I was attracted to him even though I consider myself hetero. Physically, he’s a dream. We’ve got a long history. And I loved everything that he did to me. I wanted him to take over and fuck me. But, I was scared. So I ran. During the night I did my “lawyer thing”–examining the pros and cons, the consequences, the risks. And it was the early hours of the morning that I realized that my life was empty. I lived only to work. Here I was in my late 20s with nothing to do that I considered fun. If I didn’t watch myself, I’d be an old man, without the ability to enjoy. Maybe rich. Maybe respected. But lonely and unfulfilled. I decided to go for it. Not just a toe in the tub. I was going to plunge in the cold river. Either I was going to enjoy the water–or I was going to drown. So I txted the next morning that I was taking him up on his invitation to join him for pizza and…. After that night, Billy really started to fill up my time–and my ass. Then I turned the tables. I was having the best time of my adult life. Fuck the world! I’m getting laid. Fucking this Adonis. And loving it!
Maybe you don’t remember me from my last story. I’m Kyle Maddox, born and bred in New York–in fact on Staten Island, the “lost” borough in the City-that-Never-Sleeps. I’m a lawyer–fourth year associate at Fuller & Brush. Specializing in finance and financial litigation. I’m about 6 even, with professionally barbed black hair, cut reasonably short, deep blue eyes, a swarthy chiseled face with a thin Roman nose. I work out regularly, and I’m in shape–about 175-180. I’m a real head-turner (that is, if I ever get away from my desk). Until a few days ago, I assumed I was totally hetero. I certainly acted macho-alpha.
Oh, in case you’re interested (Fuck, what I am saying, if you’re reading this in Literotica, of course you’re interested), I’ve got a nice-sized banana dick with a hood, framed in DIY sculpted curly black pubes–but otherwise pretty hairless. My one indulgence is custom made clothes. And my tailor knows that I need extra room inside the right thigh! (It’s a standing joke between us. Or maybe it’s a “hanging” joke!)) It’s not unusual for there to be a recognizable bulge on the inside right side–which I don’t try to hide. Obviously, I’ve got a sense of humor–and I’ve been known to crack up a serious discussion with an off-hand comic observation.
None of my dates had ever complained that I wasn’t big enough or talented enough.
The first weekend that Billy and I spent together was, I thought, a fluke. Then things just started to happen. Unexpected. Definitely unplanned. We were in his bed most of the time we were together. I couldn’t get enough of his dick. And it turns out that he’s vers–and was just as interested in mine. We were definitely porn material. He had definitely opened Pandora’s box, well maybe not her box, but certainly my chute–to the possibilities. And I was learning all of his pleasure points and vulnerabilities. He’s got one of the tightest holes that I’ve even had my dick in. And my banana taps his sensitive nut like they are tailor made for each other.
Unfortunately, Billy’s Dad is in hospice, near the end, and Billy has been stepping into management of a large New York contractor. After only a couple of days, he asked me to help out with some of the legal and financial stuff. He must be really desperate to want me to help so soon. I don’t have the time unless Thorpe becomes a firm cient. So, he and I put together the rudimentary basics of the company’s history and a general outline of the scope of its legal needs over the next year or so. Most was pretty routine negotiation with banks and owners and preparing bid documents. But he also wanted me to manage sub contractor agreements and labor and license issues. And the kicker, he wanted me to supervise the financials. It would be a full time job.
I brought the company, Thorpe Contracting, to the firm and requested permission to take on the representation. My supervising partner was surprised at my apparent client generation skills, but really suspicious. (I think he was also reluctant to lose my slave labor for his clients.) He wanted to see financials, and when they were produced (unaudited, a year old and really a mess), he said that IF we decided to take them on, there would be a required advance retainer–maybe a $100K against future billings. He made some remarks about my inexperience in construction law matters, but agreed to send the client information forward for a “conflict check”–after he saw that Thorpe had paid more than a million in legal fees the previous year. They were potentially a big client–although fairly small by F&B standards.
A few days later, the proverbial hit the proverbial. The conflict check showed multiple conflicts (with older banking clients–one was the principal financier of the largest construction project they had going at the time) and a significant range of complaints and lawsuits–most recently concerning a portion of the building collapse. The decision: no way was F&B going to take on the representation. It was too “dirty.” (He actually used that word!)
I called Billy with the news. He refused to talk on the phone. “Let’s get together to discuss this.”
“I’m in the final stages of packing myself and Mom. I really can’t for a few days.”
Actually, I was pleased to have a few days. I hadn’t yet made up my mind about his suggestion that I leave the firm and join Thorpe. I needed to consider what working together might do to our quite satisfactory developing relationship. And my lifeplan.
“Well, you’re moving in with me on Thursday after the movers empty your Mom’s place. We can talk then. If you’re still coherent, that is.” Then he laughed that deep basso profundo of a stage villain who had some tracks in mind that he wanted to tie me to. Or maybe some bedposts.
And so Thursday night I arrived at Billy’s third floor apartment (with the “view”), lugging a suitcase and a hanging bag with suits and shirts. We had decided I’d move in with him in what was theoretically his extra room until my apartment was ready. We both knew that was not going to happen. It was after dinner, but I hadn’t eaten. And I was rank after the hot day of moving without AC in the hot and muggy summer. So Billy motioned me to strip and shower while he warmed the ever-present leftover pizza.
I joined him in the kitchen a few minutes later, wearing only a damp towel and a smile. The pizza was steaming hot. Apparently so was he. He stood behind the stool as I ate, close enough that I could feel his heat and his hard-on. Then the hands came around and started massaging my pecs. A thumb and a finger circled and squeezed my sensitive nipples. Another untied the towel. “Fuck, how do you expect me to eat, stud?”
“I’ve got some sausage that I’d like to to try. It’s all organic and very tasty. But in my room. New rules. If I’m gonna be your boss, we fuck. Then I buy you dinner. I’ve been storing up for three days. I’m dripping just feasting on your body.” With that, he spun the stool around, grabbed my butt and carried me to his bed.
I protested that he wasn’t my boss. But he quickly retorted that he sure was. And he set out to prove it.
Seconds later I was down and he was spread on top, his head to my dick, squirming around to feed me his cock. Then he moved with more agility than I would have expected, and he was on all fours with his cock and balls hanging above my face like the salami in the Italian deli just down the street. He lowered and I opened to catch the first drops of his precum. When all 225 of him was poised over me like that, I surely felt the overload. He really was big. And his balls hung like big ripe peaches from the top of his tree. He was definitely the boss. Did I really think I could handle this guy? I’d be his sub in two weeks. I reached up and held his cock in place as I slowly licked and teased the glans. Then I swallowed and took him in my throat. Fuck, he was following every move. My own was deep inside his mouth. I was on the bottom but I was orchestrating. Was this a paradigm for our future relationship? Would he take my advice as willingly as he swallowed my cock?
I decided to test. I spit him out and grabbed his balls, licked them, then grabbed and tugged. He howled, but he moved off, slid down beside me. “Why’d you do that?”
I spooned him and pulled him into my gut. I really didn’t answer. I didn’t want a discussion. I wanted to fuck. “I’m gonna drive, boy. Open up.”
He pushed his ass into me and slipped his left thigh forward with his answer. “Hit me from the side. I love that banana on my prostate.” Fuck, his mood swings were epic. And I loved them. His needs were simple: cock and lots of it. He could move from avid top to hungry bottom in a few seconds. I recovered quickly and was lubing for entrance. I popped in–he didn’t even whimper!–pounded a few times and bottomed out. By then he was moaning like a bitch dog in heat that had found a willing mongrel to do the deed. I held him at the edge. I twitched my twanger a few times while I grabbed his meat. Then I stopped. He was motionless on the outside, but I could feel that inside he was ready to boil over. His spunk was pushing at my finger restraints. His musk was heavy and fragrant. But I hadn’t had quite enough of his ass yet. I squeezed tighter. Fuck, it feels so good to have a macho stud by the balls. Particularly one who’s got a good 50 pounds on me.
“Fuck, what are you doing to me? You’re going to block the plumbing if you keep doing shit like this. Let me fuckin cum…” He whispered the last few words with a broad smile that conveyed just the opposite. He was loving every bit of my torture.
“I think it’s time to negotiate, Billy. We both know our relationship is barely a month old. Too much pressure. And not enough release. We both know that if I leave F and B, I’m making a life decision. Can’t we wait a little and see how we’re getting along? This is my life.”
“Your life? Fuck, you’ve got my future kids in your damn hands. Squeeze a little harder and I’m gonna be a fuckin soprano for Chrissakes! Now you’ve got me at a disadvantage. Is this what they taught you at NYU? How to fuck your client and your best friend?”
“Yeah, come to think of it. That’s exactly what they teach.” And then we both broke into hysterical laughter. So hard, that I released his balls, and he dislodged me from his ass.
“Fuck, is that what clients do to their favorite lawyers? Invite them in; then drive them out? Is that what you’ve got in mind for me Billy?”
We were both enjoying the repartee–not to say anything about the terrific start-stop sex. But, I was painfully hard and ready to launch. And I could feel his little fuckers fighting to rush to the sun. “So this is what good lawyers do. We climb back in the saddle and prove our mettle.” I pushed him down hard and rammed with all my strength. Again he howled, for effect I think, but I pounded being sure to really punish his love nut. Over and over I jammed Kyle-jr into his molten hole. Then I let loose a gusher. He squeezed his butt cheeks to hold me tight and exploded as my spunk worked deep inside his hole. Then I bent down and nipped his neck to leave my “Kyle was here” mark.
I strained one last time to deposit the last of my cum as deeply as I could. Then I collapsed in sated exhaustion on this huge man that I had just taken in sexual combat. And still plugged tight.
“I’d say that was lawyer 1, client 9.”
“Not on your life. I let you take me–again. That was 10 for both of us. It’s the new math. 1+1=10 for both of us.”
“So it’s decided. You’re cuming to work for me.”
“I don’t think you understand, Billy. When a young lawyer leaves his firm, he’s changing his life. I’m in a top tier firm. If I leave and go corporate, no other firm would touch me if we don’t work together. It’s like selling out.”
“So what happens in a few years, when you’ve given up your youth to the grind, if they don’t make you partner? Fuck, they’ve already told you that don’t want your best friend’s business and fees. And you’ve already told me that you don’t like the job.”
“Actually, I love the work, but your’re right. Not the job.”
“So let me make you the offer you can’t refuse: We’re a top contractor, maybe number 3 in New York, with nearly a billion under construction. I’ve got more than a hundred employees and hundreds more under contract. My brother, sisters and I own it all–with the banks of course. I’m gonna be CEO in a month or so. I’ll double your salary at the firm. For a 40 hour week. We’ll get time to spend together. How about the Caribbean in February?”
He smiled, pushed his forearms under his head, and continued, “Kyle, breeders get to fall in love at first sight. I’ve been into you for over ten years. You won’t regret it. I promise. This is really not so sudden. At least for me. I know what I want, and I usually get my way.”
Before I could answer, he pulled me on top of him and our lips met. Again. Deep kissing a guy. I was getting used to it. Then his tongue dove in and started to duel. Fuck, that’s so sexy. So much harder than with a girl. Sex and power and strength are really great together.
A minute later his index finger was teasing the rim and penetrating an inch or so. How the fuck did he expect me to answer his question? I guess he didn’t. He wanted to finish his summation to the jury and call for a verdict before they even had heard all the evidence. This is what he meant by my being incoherent. Once again, my cock started to harden, lengthen and leak. The cum was almost clear for had lots of aroma. He was milking me. I guess I had given him my answer. In the best way that I knew how. I let him. Actually, I wiggled my ass a bit to encourage his index finger deeper. Fuck he was a good negotiator. He always appealed first to the little brain in my dick. I’m going to have to work on that.
We didn’t leave the bed that night. We each had several more orgasms, more than I’ve ever had in any 24 hour period. Twice I took control and topped. The other time he did. His hole was clearly hungry for a little dick. Hell not a little dick, but my nice hefty banana. The second time I took him was long and lush. He was well-lubricated. So the slide was easier while still hot and tight–and I had more stamina. He kept calling for me to punch his love nut. And who am I, a mere future employee, to deny my future boss anything he wanted? I punched, then scraped, then crowded and paused. I could just feel the mutual throbbing of our blood vessels pumping size into our love machines.
The last was the best. I could feel his tightening walls pulsing against my hard shaft as he tightened his glute muscles. The build was slow and powerful. More like a giant surfing wave than the lap of waves on the shore. Build. Build. Curl. Tunnel, Pipe. Feel the tension. Move everything in its path. Then crash–as my legs and thighs stiffened to cause my cockhead to plunge head first into the crest–and his chute. It was exhilarating. Then climactic. Then suddenly peaceful. The release was incredible. I was drowning in his musk only to emerge, gripping him tight like a life preserver and plugging him forcefully.
I knew he felt it too. He filled my palm with repeated spurts of foaming cum. We lay with me partially over him as I began to massage his cum into his balls and cock and then up onto his hard square pecs. Finally I palmed the sensitive glans and he thrust his ass into me. I was still hard and deeply buried. I felt he was part of me.
We slept. I’m not sure when I slipped out. But my fist held his cock softly as we slept. Hours later we awakened in each other’s arms. My cock was resting in his cleft ready for more. I started to probe his rim, but he claimed he was sore. I relented and let him demolish my ass. Then, I made him go to the gym with me anyway. I think I’ve just established my worth as consigliere. But, he’s the capo.
I did work Friday, but I’m not sure how I managed to avoid some deprecating comment about the wild night that I had had on a “work night.” I was tired and drained. I looked drained and spent. And I walked funny. But, I did get through the day.
I was supposed to work Saturday and Sunday. But I blew both days off. I was leaving, and I knew that I would never see any part of the year-end bonus that was now four months off. Adding another 20 billable and giving up another weekend wasn’t going to change that. I’d give them notice on Monday. They could fire me on the spot. I don’t care. But, they wouldn’t. They didn’t want to lose my work in process. And I had a really good rep and a higher billing rate. I needed the weekend to think, and to “discuss” my future with Billy. Unfortunately, we did a lot more fucking than discussing that weekend.
*****
But, I handed in my resignation early Monday the following week and spent the rest of the day responding to various partners trying to talk me out of it. There were no suggestions of higher wages, bonuses or hints about early partnership eligibility. By six, it was a fait accompli. Al walked in with a last minute assignment just as I was putting on my suit coat. I looked up at him, smiled and said, “I’ll be happy to take care of this during regular hours. See you tomorrow, Al.” You shuld have seen his face. He’d been cold-cocked by an associate!
I was of course still bunking with Billy. My apartment would be ready in a week or so. I think Billy was sandbagging the clean up and repaint. I txted him that I was treating for dinner–at a restaurant. On the ferry, I called and reserved a table at Giulianas. I walked in just after 7. He was standing with a bottle of champagne and clearly not ready to head out. He pored two glasses. “To us, you sexy bastard!” He was hoping for a quickie before we left for dinner, but I said no. We didn’t have the time. I needed to begin taking control of this situation. Actually not the situation, myself. If I continued to fuck him and let him fuck me every time he blinked, I’d be….. Fuck, what would I be? Maybe a happy wrung out stud? Not really so bad. But, I was hungry. Get your mind out of my crotch–I’m hungry for good Italian food.
Dinner was great, but this isn’t a foodie site, so I’ll spare you the details. We’ll talk about it later. Billy’s knee was in my groin all night. And so it was short. (The dinner. Not his knee–he’s got very long legs, all three of them.) We were back in a little over an hour. He had begun stripping before we reached the third floor landing.
******
Well, it’s done and I’m committed. F&B held me to my notice period, but I held to my 9 to 6. There was a desultory party on the last Friday. I think the most pleased were the guys in my cohort–none of whom were friends. My departure meant one less competitor for the coveted partner slots.
At the end of the first week, Billy’s Dad died. It wasn’t a shock. He had been sick for years and in hospice for over a month. A small religious funeral followed which was total hypocrisy, but I was there for Billy. He had obviously been close to his Dad. There were five kids, his brother the oldest, then three sisters, then Billy, the baby. His Dad had doted, particularly after his Mom left the scene–and it was clear that his Dad was very proud of his son’s athletic achievements and his masculine good looks. I met his brother who was much rougher around the edges than either the father or Billy–and not the sharpest tack in the box. His sisters were all married and more interested in keeping their kids quiet than anything else. So I didn’t really get to know them. But, it was clear the girls adored Billy, like a doll.
Now I understood why Billy was to be the new president of Thorpe.
Billy was sad and had cried quite a bit during the burial (not the church ceremony which he seemed to ignore). There was no post-burial “party.” Everyone scattered. And we went home to the apartment. I think that night was the slowest, softest sex we’d ever had. It felt better than I expected. I took him from the back and side so I could hold him tight. This position permitted maximum body contact and a slow deep entry while I held him under me and stroked his dick in time to my own rhythmic thrusts. Billy was growing on me. My feelings were following my dick. I couldn’t imagine a time when he wasn’t in my bed. It had been only a month, but I was beginning to feel that we belonged together.
He was a complex guy. Not an intellectual, but with a practical sense of how things are done. And the personality to get others to see things his way. He had risen in the ranks of his Dad’s company the hard way. And he had earned the project manager title and the respect of his guys. They teased him about his long blonde hair and ear stud, but no one suspected he was gay. He was all-man, trading jokes, even homophobic ones, with the entire crew. On the job he was one person; in his time he was someone else entirely. He attracted hooks like fly-paper. And he enjoyed many of them. But, he was a rolling stone. No attachments. They would interfere with his job and his position in the family. I was incredibly pleased that he had opened to me. I was probably his best friend–and later I learned that I had been his first love–ten years ago.
******
Billy and I took the boat to Manhattan on the following Monday morning, my first day as Executive VP of Thorpe. He talked me out of wearing a suit which would have been so different from his tee and jeans. But, I insisted on a blazer. I was a professional and had to wear the armor of authority. So he switched into a button up and wore a sweater which dressed it up. But, the jeans stayed. The previous Saturday, I had convinced him to cut his hair. Now it was just a little long and had started to curl. And he lost the ear stud. I wasn’t concerned about the staff considering him gay, but he was president now–and didn’t want to seem too young to handle the responsibility. (I promised he could bring back the earstud in a few weeks when things started to even out.) Fuck, he was a movie idol. Even dressed up, he looked goot enough to eat.
He knew the staff of course. But this would be my first exposure after hiring.
The office was a combo office-warehouse, a single free standing building, about a block in from Westway. It definitely would be torn down for something swankier in a few years. Most was devoted to the warehouse where a half dozen panel trucks used by the project managers were garaged together with larger tool storage. In the front was a two story office. On the first floor, reception, a bullpen for estimators, inspectors and project managers–the space was a mess and empty as they were all in the garage–a lunchroom and a catchall storage space for smaller tools and supplies and filing cabinets filled with old paperwork. Upstairs (no elevator) was the executive floor. Billy’s new office, six smaller offices (3 empty) and a conference room. A receptionist space guarded the top or the staircase.
Billy pointed to the two empty offices near his. “Those are yours. Rearrange them anyway you want. I’m assuming you’ll need an assistant. Meanwhile, you can use the last empty office–or you could sit on my lap. Your choice. The new sofa is coming for my office later this afternoon. Let’s go meet the guys before they head out for the day.”
After the brief introduction, I threw my jacket over a desk chair and rolled up my sleeves. He moved to the garage where the trucks were being prepped for the day. Billy received the condolences of everyone–most had been to the funeral. It was clear than he was well-liked, although perhaps a few of the older guys remained a little suspicious about the future. His age (almost 30) was not going to be a factor for most. Then he introduced me as his old friend, now a financial and legal eagle. “He’s going to be helping me. You all know that Lenny retired a month ago and that Tino plans to leave later this year. Kyle–Kyle Maddox–is going to supervise that work and try to cut down on our use of expensive outside legal talent. Since the accident, our legal expenses have sky-rocketed. You can go to him with anything you’d go to me with–except your daughters. They’re my responsibility.” That got the appropriate chuckles. Apparently Billy was not out to the staff yet. “Any questions? Good. Let’s go to work.”
Now it was time to earn my salary–which incidentally, we hadn’t yet set.
I had learned that Thorpe was set up as an LLC for tax purposes. It created a subsidiary for each major building project. If something went really wrong, it wouldn’t topple the entire company. Billy’s three sisters had 8% each of Thorpe. Billy’s brother had 24%. So Billy controlled 52%.
Peter, his older brother, controlled and ran Thorpe Transport. The LLC had 24% and each of the girls had 8%.
All three “girls” were paid $50K each by the LLC and Transport as no dividends by either were paid “for tax reasons.”
The companies were very profitable and paid their top employees very well. Billy had offered to buy out his sisters from the LLC, using his inheritance. They were thinking about it. They had trusted their father to run Thorpe, but were unsure about Billy. Thhey loved him, but they still saw him as the baby.
As we left the garage and bullpen, Billy introduced Milly, an attractive woman, maybe 40 years old, wearing a wedding ring and a large diamond engagement ring. She had just arrived. “Milly, this is the guy I’ve been telling you about. Kyle, this is Milly, the real boss.” Milly smiled at the compliment. She was well-dressed, beautifully made up and had a dynamite Amazonian figure. I’m guessing that Billy might have tried her out, but not recently.
“Nice to meet the guy who’s already tamed Billy. I like the new haircut and this outfit is almost nice enough for a contractor CEO. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Maddox. Let me know how you’d like your office to look and work, and I’ll make it happen. Do you want a PA, an executive secretary or a parlagel? We’ve got a headhunter who can help. Anything you need, let me know. It’s done.”
She was outstanding. I was going to like her. “Thank you, Milly. And it’s Kyle please. I think it’s time for me to do something useful. What’s the most important thing on the agenda today?”
She looked over at Billy, who remained a passive bystander. “I think maybe you should become familiar with the status of the accident. It’s impacting everything right now.”
“I agree. And later I’ll take you to the tower to see it in person and to meet the PM who’s taking my job.”
It had been five weeks since the serendipitous accident in the tower which had brought Billy and me together again–since he had been much later than usual on the ferry. It occurred on the 41st floor of the Lower Manhattan tower which Thorpe was building. A portion of the floor collapsed near one corner, taking part of 40 with it. Thorpe employees were at the time pouring part of 42 on the opposite side. There had been no casualties, but several workers pulling scaffolding between 40 and 41 had been injured. No debris had reached the street. The investigation was nearing completion. A week ago, the debris had been removed from 39 and 40 and work had restarted as the City had lifted a stop-work order.
The portion of the collapse was small–about 200 square feet, between columns, but not impacting the columns themselves. However, any accident of this nature in a tall high-rise was carefully reviewed. Was the problem something that was due to widespread mistakes? Was the entire building at risk?
I returned to my temporary office to find three large stacks of documents that had been generated in the short time since the accident. First, I read the accident report which described it pretty much as Billy had told me. The floor in question had been poured over pre-stressed cables three days prior. Typically, three days was more than enough for setting, and after that time the under-supporting scaffolding was pulled for use again on higher floors.
Engineers had concluded that the metal work was okay–as expected. The labs had concluded that the concrete was according to spec. But, the insurance adjuster for Manhattan Builders’ Risk Insurance had recognized the problem. The failed floor was on the edge of the building, on the west side which was open to weather. A huge summer thunderstorm had flooded the floor the day after it was poured. This stalled the setting of the concrete. And when the scaffolding was removed, the concrete had failed. Another day of support and it would have been a non-event. The failure of 40 was due to the enormous extra weight of 41’s debris. It was a weather-caused freak accident. The building was sound.
The City had been convinced that the investigation was thorough and sufficient and lifted its cautionary order. The adjuster had filed his report–and the insurer would likely soon make an offer of financial recompense. The workers had mostly recovered and were receiving workers’ comp for another few weeks before returning to work.
So the crisis seemed to have been averted. But the consequences remained. The builders’ risk premiums would rise for the foreseeable future. Thorpe would need to issue some public announcements to re-assure potential future customers. They had a PR firm for that.
But, the City had proposed another new “safety” rule–requiring all high rises under construction to provide for exterior “weather envelopes” to insure that future rains didn’t cause a repeat of a floor concrete failure. It was also proposing to tighten the rules on protecting the surrounding streets from falling debris. This was expensive, probably over a million dollars–and not built into the construction bid or budget. Typical bureaucrats: wait until an accident happens; then use the accident as an excuse to impose new and incredibly burdensome requirements. Although I had never done so myself, I knew how to fight this: rile up the contractors and the construction unions, deluge them with requests for studies justifying their new rules (what safety studies had they done? Did the concrete manufacturers support the move? Had they considered whether a “weather envelope” would retard the curing of the concrete? Etc. Etc.)
I started in on the siege that afternoon. Within a couple of days the City had withdrawn the proposal. It turned out they had done no studies and they didn’t have the funds to commission them. They really had no basis for the proposed new rules.
Then I turned to the insurer. Thorpe had a policy whose premium could be adjusted retroactively based upon experience. As is typical in such circumstances, where the insured has no accidents or claims, the company doesn’t push for a review. I asked for the audit, ten years worth–which the fine print in the insurance law (not the policy I noted) required. A ten year audit was going to cost the insurer hundreds of thousands. A week later they retracted the proposed premium increase. We’d have to decide whether to push for the audit anyway.
In the afternoon we visited the tower. It was my first trip in an elevator without sides (just rails) on the outside of a building–to the 41st floor. I think that’s going to take some getting used to. I wanted to move into Billy and let him hold me, but there were two others with us. So I couldn’t. He whispered, “Give me a couple of hours, and I’ll hold you as tightly as you want.”
We quit at 5. It felt like mid-day to me! And I realized that our schedules wouldn’t always be the same–so I was pleased that the apartment would soon be ready.
We celebrated that night. “Milly tells me that you’ve already saved us a cool million at least. That’s what I call a good return on investment! Tomorrow, I’ll have Tino brief you on the existing work being done by outside lawyers. You can meet any of them you want. Keep or fire as you please.”
I suggested we go to the gym, but Billy had other exercise in mind to keep us for the rest of the night. “I think you’ve got a million dollar fuck cuming! I hope I’m up to it.”
He stripped and fell into the bed, ass-side up. He pulled a couple of pillows under and spread, offering me his ass and his hole. I moved behind him, pulled his cheeks apart and started to nibble. Within seconds, he was groaning and pushing into me. He was so hot that he almost burned my tongue. After a few minutes on tongue lube, I backed off and finished stripping myself. He turned his head and watched as I pulled down the trunks and my cock bounced up to slap my belly. His tongue emerged and he wet his lips with more hunger in his eyes than I had ever before detected. Fuck, it’s so easy to get this guy going!
I leaned in and positioned the glans at his entry, and my hands moved to his flank to hold him in place for a plunge. I popped in and he breathed a deep sigh of welcome. “I’m so ready, Kyle. Give him to me. Deep, hard and now.”
Of course, I complied. I started pumping as my hands moved to his shaft and balls. I just loved holding him there while I plundered his chute. It was the ultimate position of power. I felt the throb of his nut on my dick and the fury of his spunk boiling in his balls on my fingers. This guy was so hot! I pulled back and plunged, long and hard, short and punching the prostate, then long and hard again. We were both at the edge. I considered holding him, but realized he’d probably explode. So I picked up the pace, plunged and shouted out my orgasm. “I’m filling this mancunt, Billy. You are mine, boy. Only mine.”
He immediately began to spasm and spurt into my fist. And before he fell to the bed with me on top, I quickly milked the last of his cum. Then he dropped and I spread out on top, plugging him hard to hold my cum inside. My cum-filled palm (his spunk) went to his head, and his tongue emerged to lick it clean.
“I guess we’re ordering in?”
“Make it sausage and pepperoni. There’s beer in the fridge. And stuff to do a salad if you insist.”
And thus ended my first day on the job at Thorpe. This was going to be a far more interesting job than I had ever imagined. And Billy was definitely becoming my BFF.
TBC BD
Author’s note: Due to other commitments, I writing these chapters one at a time and so there might be a little delay as we go forward. And, by the way, I’m not an engineer and the building collapse material is pure fantasy! BD