For this, I blame BreakTheBar. The Affection Multiplier App is an offshoot of the idea of computer programs that can alter the world, one I had not heard of until I found his series (AMA: The Boyfriend, here on Lit and still ongoing). Read it, then I got hooked. He even was so kind as to point me towards the original series where he found it so that I could... research. Let's call it that.
I saw a possibility there. I thought of a place to put it. This is a one-shot for the moment, until life gives me time to do more. If I get a good response here that might be sooner than otherwise. Those of you who enjoyed my take on JRParz's Master PC Universe? Well, you might recognize a couple of places or names on occasion here. Welcome to Affection Multiplier App: All The World!
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Chapter 1: There's an App For That
"So you're telling me that you have an app pulled up? One that I can't see despite you holding your screen towards me?"
"Yes."
"And that it just appeared on your phone yesterday morning, without you having ever downloaded it?"
"Uh-huh."
"And it tells you, explicitly, that your now-ex boss actually does hate you enough to actively interfere with your job search, that your parents have no real conviction about you anymore, and that my emotions and libido have cooled off about our relationship?"
"That's exactly it. You always wanted me to be honest about things, Diane. No matter how crazy it may be. As soon as I figured out it wasn't a hallucination, virus, or trick, here we are."
There was silence at the table as the pretty blonde took in her boyfriend's words. My words. I had never in our two-year relationship lied to her. Not once. It was something that had endeared her towards me, and why she was willing to move in six months ago. Even if she had obviously been kind of regretting it recently, with my job and family stress cutting into our time and enjoyment. Heck, I knew I'd been spiraling for a bit, and two days ago I'd have understood entirely if she wanted to reenter the dating pool.
That was the rub. It seemed accurate, and I was honest. But seriously? An app that let you see numerical measures of people's Affection, Love, and Lust? One that promised to multiply all positive interactions by five (whatever that meant)? It was impossible! But yet, here it was. She had always been almost supernaturally good at reading people, she could see me tap and swipe the phone commands and look at specific points as I read things.
She suddenly breathed out sharply. Diane's little sign that she'd finished thinking through it. "Jack... okay. It seems crazy, but you seem convinced. We have enough saved up, I think, plus my job... we can let it ride for a bit and see where this goes. Worst case, you get a break and get back to the search. One angry boss can't lock out every Human Resources position in town."
"Thanks, love. That said? Some cuddles on the couch are what this day really needs. Deal?"
"Deal."
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One week. Less than one week was all it took. It was amazingly soothing to just be the House Boyfriend for a while, not going to lie. Taking a break from having to deal with irate workers and more-irate bosses, even if this one was forced. Getting to let a show play as I cleaned up and caught up with all the little chores I'd been letting fall by the wayside. In two days, the apartment was spotless. By day three, I was greeting Diane with a hot meal when she got home from her secretary job. Perhaps not the best soup ever made, but it was at least decent.
By day five, not only was the place spotless but I was finding myself at loose ends. I took a walk to the corner store for some ingredients. It gave me an opportunity to see what other people generally thought of me, as well. Some folks I didn't interact with all that often, but who weren't former coworkers. Something to compare to Diane's steadily-increasing scores. It was an odd thing, the regular clerk had an Affection score towards me at 22. Positive, at least. Unlike Diane, he had neither Love nor Lust showing no matter how low they might be. The App said those only popped up when they were relevant. The Indian girl selling spices at the World Market was at a whopping five, which at least was better than zero.
The curry that I made that evening was a much better attempt at things, and the massage I gave Diane was apparently one of the better ones I've ever done. She ended up rolling over, pulling off her pants, and silently spreading her legs in a sign that was rather unmistakable. We hadn't had sex in weeks, but I remembered what to do. It was easier to remember when, as soon as I started, she hooked her legs around me and pulled me as deeply into her as I could go.
Ah, so it was going to be one of THOSE evenings.
She wasn't interested in gentleness today. This time, she was demanding I deliver her to pound town. My dick was... well, I like to think a BIT above average, but far from porn star level. She was soaking wet and practically begging me to do it, so I really put my back into it. Every thrust went deep, pressing in until I could feel myself bottoming out in her. Until I could see her pert breasts jiggle with every push. Until the sweat was dripping down both of our bodies, and her panting breaths turned into moans of pleasure.
Her voice was desperate with need. "Cum for me, babe. Paint my insides white! Do it!"
I wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. As her orgasm began, I joined her. Shot after shot of cum straight into her body, on and on in the biggest one I'd had in a long time. It had been too long since we had been together like this. I was backed up in a severe way, and as I came down off of my high I found that I was still rock-hard inside of her.
I bent down and sucked on one of her sensitive nipples, reveling in her gasp of shock as I began moving within her once more. I could feel everything in sharp detail, the pleasure bordering on pain in my post-orgasm sensitivity. I knew from experience that she often felt the same way, but this time she got right back into it. Rolling over onto her hands and knees without ever letting me out of her, changing how we joined together until I was pounding her from the back. Her moans turned into small, sharp yelps of ecstacy. My hands came to those sensitive nipples as I pushed forcefully into her, overwhelming her with sensation. It was not a trick I did too often, but it pushed her directly back over the line into a second sharp orgasm of her own. My second one came a few moments later, smaller than my first perhaps but definitely still there.
As we rolled over and passed out, a tangled mess of sweaty limbs, I could swear I heard my phone buzz. Ah well, it would keep for tomorrow.
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