Lust Grows Through The Window

By Alexander Stone

Unleash your wildest desires with "Lust Grows Through The Window", the hottest gay erotica novel of the year! Follow the steamy love affair of two gorgeous men, as they navigate their way through a tantalizing journey of lust, love, and temptation. One of the men is a mysterious window washer with a chiseled physique and a naughty smile, who catches the eye of a handsome business executive. The chemistry between them is electric, and soon they are caught in a whirlwind of passionate encounters that will leave you breathless.

 

This thrilling tale of desire and seduction is written with vivid detail and a seductive prose that will tantalize your senses. With its pulse-pounding action and unforgettable characters, "Lust Grows Through The Window" is the perfect escape for fans of gay romance and erotica. So, whether you're looking for a steamy read to heat up a cold night or just want to experience the thrill of a forbidden love affair, "Washing Windows" is the perfect book for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CDH Publishing House
• Release date: Feb 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215494875

Alexander Stone

Alexander Stone is a talented and accomplished author, who has always been driven by a desire to tell captivating and authentic stories. His passion for writing took him to the world of erotic gay fiction, where he has found a platform to express the complexities of human sexuality. Raised in a progressive city, he was exposed to the diverse experiences of the LGBTQ community from an early age and has used this experience to create compelling and thought-provoking stories. Alexander's writing style is characterized by its raw honesty, attention to detail, and unapologetic portrayal of gay relationships. Through his work, he hopes to challenge traditional views on sexuality and encourage people to embrace their true desires and to live life with passion and purpose.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Monday morning. Shawn , the sales manager, shot into my office and said, Listen, James, you're gonna have that report ready by tomorrow, right?

Yes, Shawn, it's almost done. And, Shawn, when have I ever been late with your report?

You're the MAN, James! and then he disappeared as fast as he'd arrived.

There would be no pTomlem getting the report done. There never was a pTomlem getting any report done. I'd lost track of how many reports I'd prepared in the last five years. I could do Shawn's damned report with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back!

There was no need to rush. I'd finish the report in an hour. Plenty of time left.

I got up, stretched and headed toward the men's room for a piss. After that I took the elevator down five floors to the lobby to grab a vente from Starbucks. I always got a kick out of the woman who worked there. I think she was Russian and she always flirted with me. She'd say something like, Ah, Mister Phelps! You come to rescue me from a life of drudgery! You ask. I go with you! You take me to a tropical island, yes?

I'd laugh and respond with something like, One of these days, Lana, one these days....

It was our little routine and it always brightened my day.

I put cream in my coffee and grabbed a stool at the little bar by the window. There was no rush to get back to my office and I always a enjoyed a few minutes at this spot. It had a great view of the busy sidewalk and street. I looked out. It was a sunny day. I always marvelled at the frantic maelstrom out there. Busses, cars, trucks, taxis, all swirling along to some important destination. There was an Acme Maintenance van parked in the loading zone in front. There were guys walking along the sidewalk. Lots of guys. Tall guys, short guys. Slim guys, fat guys. Guys in suits, guys in jeans. Guys with great asses. Guys with intriguing packages. I thought of the Gerri Halliwell song It's Raining Men. Many of the men I was looking at were hot. Smoking hot. I was getting a little horny. I thought ruefully, Looks like I've got another date with Mr. Hand tonight.

Sadly, Mr. Hand was the only date I'd had now for several weeks.

My current boyfriend, Sven, an engineer, had recently left on an assignment in Asia. Before he left we'd had a long and heartfelt conversation about our commitment to each other. We thought that we had a good shot at a future together but that this break would give us a chance to think it through. After all, doesn't absence make the heart grow fonder?

Unfortunately that wasn't the case. I was becoming more ambivalent about the relationship as the weeks rolled by. Sure, it was a comfortable alliance. He was a great guy. Good looking and charming. But for me there was something missing. There just wasn't that spark that I thought should be in a good partnership.

Perhaps it was time to move on....

I checked my watch. Whoops! Time to get back to work.

As I entered the office Tina, our receptionist, waved a pink message slip at me.

I arched my eyebrow telegraphing the question, Who?

Mr. Cohen, she told me.

Ah, yes, the banker. Reminding me about our meeting tomorrow, right? I must remember to wear a suit."

I sat at my desk and concentrated on banging out the report for Shawn. I was focussed pretty intently on my computer, just crossing the t's and dotting the i's, when I heard a light tap on my door. Tina stuck her head in and told me she was going to lunch (lunch time already?). She kindly asked me if I'd like her to bring me back a sandwich. I gratefully accepted her offer. Before she turned to leave she handed me three more message slips.

Two were routine business calls. I'd return them after lunch.

The third message made me smile. It was from my old high school buddy, Pam. She had been my friend, my confident and my saviour during those painful, confusing years. The years when I guy could get teased mercilessly for having a last name like Phelps. I loved her dearly.

I picked up the phone and called her right away. She knew it was me from her call display and answered with an enthusiastic, Hi stranger!

Hi Florence Nightingale, I responded (alluding to the fact that she was now a nurse) then added, What's up? I knew she hadn't called just to chat.

Well, she said in a low, conspiratorial tone, Eric is away on his annual retreat with John this week, Ryan's in pre-school, and I need some pleasant company. I'm wondering if you've got time for lunch with your old friend sometime in the next day few days.

Eric was her hunky cop husband and John, a fireman, was her twin sister's husband—also a bit of a hunk as I recalled. Ryan was her 3 year old son.

Something about the way she emphasized the word retreat made me wonder. My mind drifted. For some reason I conjured a porno image of a cop and fireman. Hmmm, more material for my date with Mr. Hand...

Pam's voice pulled me back to reality, Earth to James. Yes or no? Can you do lunch or not?

Pam, you know I never pass up a chance to have lunch with you! How about Thursday?

Perfect, she replied. Gino's at 12:30. And, James, I want to hear all about your love life!

Then we're not gonna have much to talk about, Pam.

I don't believe you. Bye. See you Thursday.

Bye, Pam, and thanks for calling.

Tina returned with my sandwich. Swiss cheese, avocado and alfalfa sprouts with mayo. My favourite. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and ate at my desk. It was shaping up to be a busy afternoon. Besides what I had on my schedule there were always unexpected fires to deal with. I was technically our company's Chief Financial Officer, but I thought my title should be The Guy Who Does Everything That Nobody Else Wants to Do. Sometimes my job was tedious and repetitive, but I really had little to complain about. I'd been extremely lucky to get in on the ground floor of a software start-up that did well. I made good money for my age and the bonuses were generous. If the company was ever sold, or merged with a larger firm, the shares I owned would provide me with a nice nest egg.

So I started on what I expected to be a fairly routine afternoon. The hours evaporated. By 4 o'clock I need to stretch and have another pee. I got up and headed for the can. I stopped in the coffee room on the way back and grabbed a diet coke to take back to my office. I was deep in thought about a work issue. Walking along without really watching where I was going. As I entered my office I was looking down at the tab on the coke can, getting ready to open it. Suddenly in my peripheral vision I sensed a movement. I looked up, startled. Something was at my window. I froze mid step—one foot suspended above the floor. I stopped like I'd run into a brick wall. It was as if I'd seen Medusa and been turned to stone. Only what I was looking at was no gorgon. No, that was the wrong analogy entirely....

I was looking at God.

Well, not THE God, more like a Greek god. Zeus? Apollo?

A being so beautiful I could hardly breathe.

Suspended on a flimsy rope on the other side of my window....

I regained enough of my senses to realize it was a window washer. A very hunky, very attractive window washer. So beautiful that he had stopped me dead in my tracks.

I became aware that, he too, had become motionless. His squeegee stopped mid-stroke on the window.

We stared at each other. I swear sparks flew between our eyes. There was absolutely no doubt that a big time mutual attraction thing was going on.

Finally I remembered to breath. He smiled at me. I smiled back. My foot touched the floor again and I stepped closer to the window. We held each other's gaze.

He was the first one to make a move. Surprisingly, he spread the fingers of his free hand and put them to his face pantomiming talking on the phone. I realized he wanted me to phone him. I nodded yes enthusiastically and smiled even more. I wondered how we could exchange phone numbers. I doubted we could hear each other through the thick glass of the window.

Obviously a pTomlem solver he spread some soap film on the window with his squeegee. Then with his index finger he started to write in it. He formed the letters backwards so I could read them. The letters were blocky and child like.

He wrote, T O M. Tom! His name was Tom. I nodded understanding and continued grinning like a fool.

He then began writing numbers. I scrabbled to my desk for a pen and paper to write them down.

Slowly he wrote, 8 0 5 5 5 5 1 2 .......

I looked down to copy the first few numbers on