He's More Than a Weeend Girlfriend

"A couple of the guys are heading over to The Bishop; you in?"

I'd taken care to keep my desk messy all afternoon. All the better to curate the illusion that I was actually busy. "Ah, sorry," I replied. "I've still got some shit to wrap up here."

Teddy slapped the doorframe. "You sure? Might be nice to blow some of that fat bonus. Maybe find a girl to waste it on?"

I snickered. "Chasing girls at the bar isn't how you end up with fat bonuses. You guys go ahead - I'll catch up if I can."

"Alright boss," he replied. "I'll see you Monday."

He would, but it was 5:15 on Friday afternoon, and I had somewhere to be.

The drive was agony. Even after all this time, my guts still tied themselves in knots at the mere thought of what I was going home to. I chewed my lip. I drummed on the steering wheel. I wiggled my toes in my shoes. None of it helped.

The good news that had burned a hole in my pocket all week didn't make things better. After all, Ted was right; blowing a bonus on some pretty young thing was definitely more fun than tucking it away for a rainy day.

"Sugar?" I called as I let myself in. "You home?"

A flurry of activity from the bedroom answered me as Max scrambled out of bed. "Daddy! You're home!"

Max bounded down the hall with a wide, pretty smile that melted my heart every time. Barefoot and wearing nothing but a lacy bralette and cheeky little pyjama shorts, my bouncy sugar plum threw his arms wide and fell into me.

"Hey cutie," I said, pulling my Max close for a kiss. "I wish you wouldn't call me that. Makes me feel weird."

He looked up at me with a barely contained smirk, all freckles and big green eyes. His ponytail bobbed as he shook his head. "Oh come on," he said, "everyone does it. Besides, you're old enough to be my-"

"Enough of that," I said, pecking Max on the forehead to ward off his little pout. "What are you up to?"

"Well," he said while I kicked off my shoes and hung my coat, "I sent a demo out this morning for a little indie game, so hopefully I get a little work from that."

"Sounds cool," I replied, searching the cabinets for a clean glass to pour myself a drink with. Max was a lot of things, but he wasn't much of a housewife. "What's the character?"

"Oops," he said. "There should be a clean one in the dishwasher." His voice switched gears like it was nothing at all, suddenly taking on a decidedly feminine tone. "Like, she's a total heal slut who heals her teammates through the power of star dust!"

"What the hell is a heal slut?" I asked with a chuckle. The bottle of scotch I kept at Max's place was noticeably emptier than I'd left it. Little scamp.

Wrapping his arms around me from behind, he hugged me tight while I poured. "It's a video game thing," he said in his normal voice.

"I figured," I chuckled. "Come on, let's get comfy."

The invitation to cuddle split Max's face in a cherubic grin and my heart fluttered all over again. "I like the way that sounds," he replied, taking me by one finger and leading me to the couch.

I settled in, kicking my feet up on the cheap sectional I'd bought to replace Max's shitty old futon. He nuzzled in next to me like a house cat.

"Wanna watch something?" He asked, flipping the TV on.

"Sure, but first," I gulped, "we need to talk about something."

Max scrunched up his face. "This sounds serious. Is it about me calling you daddy? Because I don't think I can stop doing that."

I laughed and turned to face him. The winged eyeliner made his stare hard to meet, so I looked at his glossy lips instead. "No, not that. It's just...I got my bonus this week. It's a big one."

His eyes lit up. He knew what this meant: treats. "Like 'take me shopping for new clothes' big or..."

"Or 'pay your rent for the year' big?" I replied.

It took ages to compute. I spoiled Max rotten at the best of times, but voice acting and Twitch streaming hardly covered the things I didn't. "Wait...you're - are you fucking kidding me?"

I grinned like an idiot. "Not at all. I stopped by the office on my way up. You're settled up for another 12 months."

His arms were around my neck before I could react, and he peppered my face with more kisses than I could return until his lips finally landed on mine. "Oh my god, papi, thank you so much!"

"Papi still counts, we're not doing that one either," I laughed. "But you're welcome. You deserve it so much. Anything for you."

He scrambled up into my lap, looking down at me with a semi-serious look on his pretty face. "Anything?"

I was weak, and would have agreed to nearly as much as I'd promised. "Well," I began.

"You'll take me to a work party with you?"

There it was. The big one. "Max, sweetheart-"

"You said anything!" He wiggled his butt on my lap, and I let my weakness carry my hands back for a squeeze.

"We've talked about this though."

"But," he said, leaning in to kiss my neck. I'm sure I don't need to tell you what his advances were doing to me. "You said anything."

It wasn't what you're thinking. No, I wasn't necessarily "out", but that didn't matter. Max happened to have a cock, but whether I was or wasn't gay didn't factor into it at all. No, it was the obvious and unavoidable matter of our birthdays. His came nearly 20 years after mine.

"I'm way too old for you," I gasped, losing the battle with my own willpower as I kneaded his tight little ass.

"How it is worse than all your bosses and their bimbo trophy wives? Hmm?" His kisses were getting harder to resist. "Might as well bring a pretty little trophy wife of your own."

My cock demanded attention, and Max's lithe little frame was too much to resist. "Ask nicely," I demanded.

Max chewed his lip hungrily and slid off my lap. Standing before me, he slowly pushed his flimsy little shorts off his hips while keeping perfect eye contact, turning ever so slightly to show his pale, bubbly ass slide free. "Please?" he plead.

"Don't stop," I said, grasping at my own tense bulge. He liked taking it out for himself.

Max obliged, tugging the shorts further down, letting it pop past the stubby little peg that proved meagre resistance at last. I gasped at the sight of his adorable, leaky little spout, standing strong and less than half the size of my own. Fuck, I loved that little thing so much.

"My turn," he said, crouching over my legs once more. Deft fingers worked to undo my button and fly before Max wormed a hand into my pants to fish for his prize. "God, daddy, you're so hard!"

"You can't call me that," I gasped feebly. My cock made its appearance at last, looking like nothing so much as a billy club in his hand. My scruff of hair was contrasted by the fact that he was hairless from the eyebrows down.

"Yes I can," he replied, scooting forward until he was close enough to leak on me. "I can do whatever I want, can't I?"

My breaths came in ragged hitches. I was putty in his hands. "Yes," I whispered.

"Good," he replied in a sultry tone.

He leaned in, letting our cocks exchange a wet kiss before enclosing both in one hand. He bucked his hips and stroked at the same time, a favourite move of mine. His body moved like a snake and I grunted like a bear in heat. He gasped and writhed in my lap, moaning like an utter whore.

"Cum for me, please daddy," he urged. The name genuinely felt icky, but something about hearing it while I was completely at his mercy drove me wild. I'd never admit it though.

"You first," I demanded. His little prick looked like a toy next to mine, three stiff inches and dainty pink head. "Let me watch you cum on me, baby, please."

"Call me that again," he panted. "Call me your baby."

I obliged, again and again, begging for my reward, refusing to care that he would likely get my work shirt messy when he did.

"That's it, baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock, please. Let me see your pretty little dick explode."

He whimpered and scrunched his eyes closed, the slippery grind finally taking its toll as his ass clenched urgently in my lap - pearly cream began to spurt free as he stroked, smearing his mess up and down me while he groaned and ground.

"Fuck," I panted. It was too much. "I'm gonna fucking-"

Even in the throes of his own agony, Max tipped our cocks toward himself and let me blast nearly vertically to splatter my cum against his taut, hairless tummy. He whined, actually whined, as the heavy ropes slammed into him and began to slide down his sinuous body.

"Ohhh," he moaned, releasing our sandwiched meat and licking his finger. He looked down at his body and scooped up a glob of my cum before popping that, too, into his mouth. "What a mess you made!"

He was so gorgeous. Just incredibly fucking beautiful. "C'mere," I demanded, pulling him close and leaning forward to lick myself off his abs. He giggled like a schoolgirl and protested my tickley kisses.

"Stop!" He giggled. "You're so greedy!"

I let him fall back into my lap again. The rush of orgasm faded for us both and we exchanged nervous, shy chuckles as we caught our breath. The salty tang of my cum still filled my mouth.

"God, you're so pretty," I said, brushing an errant strand of hair behind his ear.

He blushed and squirmed, patting my chest. "Well," he sighed, "you're lucky I like a silver fox, because you're in for one hell of a blowjob later."

"Later?" I asked, twitching my cock against his bare ass.

"Mhm," he nodded, sending his auburn ponytail dancing again. "Right after you come clean me up."

My eyes widened like a kid in a candy store. "You mean-"

He giggled. "Come on, get your butt in the shower, mister."

As promised, a very soapy shower turned into a most luscious, slobbery blowjob. A few episodes of Mad Men and some Chinese takeaway later, I was happy to return the favour - though I had an admittedly easier job of getting him all the way down. Bedtime came, and so did we, him sliding my cock down his throat while I stared up at his smooth little package dangling inches over my face. I lapped up his stringy precum like it was candy while I blew another load down his throat.

The whole thing was heaven. Heaven, I tell you.

"Morning sleepy," he said at dawn. His hand was already wrapped around me beneath the covers. I'd woken from one dream into another entirely. "What do you feel like doing today?"

I grinned. This was bliss. "Hmmm," I groaned as I woke, "I don't know. I was thinking maybe just 'you' all day but..."

He leaned in to peck my lips and whispered, "But?"

"We've got a partner's dinner next week."

He pursed his lips and batted his eyelashes. "What about it?"

"Well," I said slowly, "we're allowed to bring a plus-one. I was thinking, if you're not too busy, I could use a trophy wife to keep me company? What do you say?"

Max said nothing, but giggled playfully and crawled under the covers to let his pretty lips answer for him.