One Brick at a Time

an excerpt




Chapter One


Tony Visconti gave a satisfied grunt as he opened one eye to stare at his alarm clock. Nice...another half-hour before he had to get up. He rolled over onto his stomach, wriggling in place to get the feel of his morning wood pressed between the mattress and his belly. Also nice. He rolled over again onto his back and gripped the thick length of his cock, stroking it slowly and giving in to the euphoria a good morning wank always gave him.

CRASH!

What the...?

THUD!

Shit! Jumping out of his bed he marched over to the window and peered through the slats of the window blind.

THUMP!

"Oh, for crying out loud," he muttered. He'd forgotten that all the tenants in his apartment block had received notice that the building next door was to be demolished to make way for a brand new condominium. The demolition part of the operation was expected to take only a few days, but the actual construction would probably go on for months. Profuse apologies had been made for any inconvenience the tenants might experience, but of course the implication had been that it was just too bad if they were inconvenienced. The city had already approved the construction, so that was that.

Tony frowned as great clouds of dust swirled upward toward his window, which he hastily banged shut to avoid being choked to death. Oh well, he was up now... his cock wasn't though, the distraction having reduced it to its normal but still handsome self. He flicked at it a couple of times but the moment had definitely passed. He needed to pee anyway...

As he washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water, he grimaced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, noting the dark shadows under his light brown eyes.

You need to get more sleep.

Too many late nights staring at that computer screen. He ran his damp hands through his thick black curly hair then stepped back to give his body the once over. His five-nine, one hundred and fifty pound frame had definitely benefited from his thrice weekly visits to the local gym over the past year. Long hours at his computer had been making him soft; so the regimen he'd forced upon himself a year ago was now showing the results he wanted. He'd never be a Bob Parris, but that hadn't been his intention. Too much muscle was high maintenance, and looked strange anyway, in his opinion. No, the sleek definition of his arms and torso was what he'd strived for - and looked good under a tight white tee.

After pulling on a pair of shorts he wandered into the kitchen to get himself a glass of juice. As he drank, he glanced at the list of "things to do" lying on the kitchen counter. As a web designer he had the luxury of doing most of his work at home, but there were always plenty of chores that took him afield into the close knit community of West Hollywood.

CRASH!

Well, it didn't look like he was going to get much peace and quiet today. For the next hour or so he gritted his teeth every time another crash, bang or heavy thud made his apartment shake, much like L.A.'s propensity for sudden jolts of the natural kind. After he'd showered he decided he'd best go out to escape the constant noise. No way was he going to be able to work surrounded by this racket. Fortunately, he was pretty much caught up with the new website he was designing for his latest client.

Starbucks sounded like a good idea. Coffee and a danish before he hit the gym. Maybe by the time he got back they'd have finished with the really annoying part of this "inconvenience". Gathering his workout gear together, he fled from the apartment.