Glass Canyon Connection

My boss, Sid Jamison, had told me that tonight was one of "those" nights and that I was to be in his office at precisely 8:15. Such a summons was not that unusual; Jamison had been fucking me regularly for a couple of months on the desk top in his office after hours. I didn't mind this, because he was really hot and not all that old and he was being really good to me professionally. But I thought it a little strange that he'd given a precise time I should be there.

We worked in one of those all-glass downtown high-rises, where land was at such a premium that the office buildings faced each other closely across narrow canyons bottomed by busy streets. Jamison's office was on the eighteenth floor, and he got off on topping me in front of floor-to-ceiling glass in the early evening hours while it was still light and while the traffic noise from below was still at a high level. But at 8:15 this time of year, it would be darker out than when we usually fucked in his office. Not a problem for me, because I hadn't planned anything that evening, but it meant I had to stay around in the office a little longer than usual.

I showed up to his office early and he kept me up against the wall, just inside the door, for several minutes, while he got us all hot and bothered with his roaming hands and lips. We undressed each other there and then rubbed chests, bellies, and cocks until we were both panting and hard for each other. He went down on me there, my back up against the wall and him kneeling between my thighs. He was really good with his tongue and teeth and the soft inner sides of his cheeks, not to mention his fingers at my balls and back door, and it wasn't long until I'd creamed his tonsils and nearly collapsed on top of him, with my knees buckling at the intensity of the cocksucking.

It was almost precisely 8:30 when Jamison stood and led me over to his desk. I couldn't have asked for a more studly guy bossing me around. I took my usual stance on the desk top: on my back; butt at the edge of the desk, legs open wide, held by my hands: my back to those floor-to-ceiling glass windows. I was waiting, all atremble, as usual, for those lips at my ass, followed by the cool feel of the KY, and then by the invigorating drive of that seven-inch, very thick cock that I'd come to love plowing my canal.

But tonight, to my surprise, Jamison told me to come down off the desk and turn around, stand on the floor, feet wide apart and lay my chest on the desk top. I did as he asked—he, after all, was the boss. And as he was pressing his face into my crack, successfully finding my puckered hole, and giving that attention with his lips and tongue, I rested my cheek on the desk blotter and sighed and moaned for him, assuring him that I was enjoying his attentions to me. His face came away and his teeth gave my butt cheeks a little nip here and there, causing me to writhe a bit, rubbing my rehardening dick on the leather surface of Jamison's executive desk. I gave a little lurch and yelp and instinctively grabbed for the corners of the desk with my hands and jerked my head up as I felt the first of his KY-slathered fingers enter me and begin to probe.

When my head came up, my eyes went to the window, and, instinctively, to the glass office tower immediately across the narrow street canyon from our own glass office tower. Few lights were on over there, so it wasn't hard for me to zero in on a brightly lit office in the mirroring building just about opposite from ours and two stories higher. That particular window was arresting, because there was a young, well-cut man leaning against that window, looking out, seemingly looking directly at me. The most arresting aspect of that young man was that he was stark naked, his hands spread out wide and supporting him against the window, his forehead plastered to the window, his legs out at a wide stance—and another naked, bulky and hirsute, but not exactly fat, man kneeling behind him, his face buried in the young man's butt, and his arms around the young man's legs, hands tightly holding the young man's thighs.

I could clearly see the young man's face, and his facial expression at having his ass eaten out was surely, I thought, no less pleasure driven than my own was at what Jamison was doing at my back door.

As I watched, the hairy man across the divide stood. I saw his hand glide back around the young man's hips, and I saw the young man lurch as the hairy man forced fingers into his asshole. I knew that was what he was doing, because at the same time, the second of Jamison's fingers forced its way into my ass, and I also lurched. The hairy man brought his body in close behind that of the young man, and his lips went to the hollow of the young man's neck. They both seemed to have their eyes glued on me. I felt Jamison lower his chest closely on my shoulder blades, his fingers still in my asshole, and he kissed and nuzzled the hollow of my neck. I licked my lips and moaned, not sure whether I was doing this on my own or suggestively, because the young man across the glass canyon was doing the same.

Jamison came up off my back; the hairy man pulled away from the young man's back. Jamison clutched my hips; the hairy many clutched the young man's hips. In one swift, painful movement, Jamison entered me with his seven thick inches and plowed up to the root. I howled to the ceiling in pain and surprise, and grabbed back at him with my hands, trying to pull him off me. But my eyes were glued to the window, where the hairy man had impaled the young man in one swift movement and the young man had lifted his head and howled to the ceiling and clutched back at the hands imprisoning his hips with his own hands.

The young man's eyes were linked to mine, beseeching me for help, trying to convey his pain and suffering at having been possessed so fully and brutally. But I couldn't help him; I was trying to seek the same solace from him. Mouths open in a screams that almost made the separating window glass between us reverberate, the young man and I shared our debauching and Jamison stroked my ass with his huge tool swiftly and deeply and the hairy man stroked the ass of his prisoner equally swiftly and deeply. All four of us were in a quartet of open mouths, cries of passion, and slitted eyes.

Jamison and the hairy man were keeping the same rhythm and tempo, almost as if they were doing so on purpose, and I knew exactly the point at which my pain was overridden by the pleasure of this wild fuck because my emotions were being exactly mirrored in the eyes of that young man across the glass canyon divide. Everything was all right now. No, more than all right—ecstasy. I was having the hot ride of my life, and it was only being enhanced because I saw that my young counterpart was also having the hot ride of his life. I writhed and moaned and slammed my hips back to meet each thrust of Jamison, just as the young man was doing to his hairy attacker.

And I knew exactly when Jamison would release and flood my insides with his rich cream because I could see the point of release in the eyes of the hairy man. And my mouth joined that of the young man in my cry of joy at being filled so fully and so deeply.

Jamison collapsed onto my back, and the hairy man collapsed against the young man onto the window across the canyon. The hairy man lifted a hand to the young man's cheek and turned his face fully to the window, making the young man's eyes latch onto mine for a last time. Jamison was doing the same to me, and I could see the hairy man whispering in his young lover's ear just as Jamison whispered in mine.

"See that man over there, the hairy one?" Jamison whispered. "That's my pal Ned Treadwell. He and I planned this little mirroring encounter for you and his young employee. I hope you liked it."

I'll never be able to fully tell Jamison just how hot this glass canyon connection was for me.