Boys With Toys
Copyright 2019 by Sky McCoy
Maxwell Gold had it all… until he didn’t. He was born into a wealthy family where he would inherit his father’s company. One of the prestigious investment banks, headquartered in Manhattan with branches in Tokyo, Great Britain, and Germany.
The CEO of the company, he presided over banks and hotels, real estate, and much more. Max, as he liked to be called, married a woman he went to high school with, and at the insistence of his elderly father, who could bark out a lecture about the ethics and principles of being married.
Maxwell as his father referred to him, and the board of directors of the company dared call him, behind his back, hated that name. He had much preferred Max. But no one had referred to him as Max since grade school and college.
Two years ago Max stood in Maxwell Senior’s office and heard the following lecture:
“You have to be settled, Maxwell. If you expect me to hand over my interest in this company. I need you with a clear head—and the only way that’s possible is for you to stop drinking so much and settle down and fuck one woman. Hopefully your wife,” Max Senior said, pointing his finger at Max as he stood at the door, preventing Max from walking out on his speech.
The old man, Max Sr. continued his tirade. “I know what it is to be a young man.” Max raised an eyebrow, placed his hands in his suit pocket, and strode with his long legs over to a window overlooking the Manhattan skyline, to glance out of the nearest window, and exhale. The thought of his father being a young man. Ever. Was a joke.
Really? For fuck’s sake, father, you haven’t been a young man for years, and I doubt if your dick ever got hard around anything but your money, Max thought. He couldn’t wait to get rid of Maxwell Sr., and get on with his day of drinking and working his ass off so he didn’t have to go home.
It was the same lecture his father gave him even after he married. The only difference now, Max didn’t give a fuck anymore, and when his father ventured down that rabbit hole, he would walk out as he did today.
Max would work and play until all times of the night, and this was one such day for that. He relished working, drinking, and then driving his cars and motorcycles he stored in a garage owned by his company. He didn’t know what he liked more, hanging out with the boys drinking or riding his motorcycles with them at breakneck speed around Manhattan during the early-morning hours.
And then there were the women. He couldn’t pass an ass he didn’t want to claim. Especially if it was tight, shapely, and round.
When Maxwell Gold Jr. trooped into his office after visiting with his father, he glanced around and thought about all the nights he’d wasted, all the time he’d squandered in his life, trying to conform to his father’s wishes and to his family’s expectations. He marched around, taking stock of his vast office with its fancy decorations; the hunter-green curtains and mahogany desk and expensive pens fit for a bygone era. His father’s era.
He sat at his desk, placed his feet up, and crossed his legs, stretching them out on the desk he had much disdain for. Then he leaned forward, placed his feet on the floor, and with one hand, he made a quick movement, sending the pictures of his wife and all the crap lined up to give the appearance of a man in control of his life, falling on-to the floor. The truth was he wasn’t in control of dick. Not even his own, for that matter.
Just hours before seeing his father, he had been fucking a gorgeous woman. However, it had taken hours before he could get his cock to perform, and he didn’t know why. Well, that wasn’t actually the truth, Max thought. He knew why. This wasn’t what he desired or wanted. Maybe he wanted what his father had suggested—to be home at night fucking his beautiful wife.
At twenty-eight, he didn’t know what the fuck he needed. But after careful thought, Max knew it sure wasn’t fucking his wife.
Max wanted and needed something different. Something that would have him hard for days and keep him hard through his marriage of two years. The marriage that had been sanctioned by his father. To the wife who had been selected by his father.
He would never hand over his company to a gay man even if he was his son. And that’s why Maxwell Gold—with all his money and all his toys and cocky attitude--chose to suppress his desires and conform to what his father wanted from him:—a straight man married to a beautiful woman.
The idea that he could have sex with men never occurred to him because he’d never had a gay relationship with anyone. What made its way into his headspace would stay there. His lust and desire for a man would never see the light of day. Not if he expected to inherit the other half of the company which was his due to birth and hard work he’d put in over the years.
Staring out past the leather couches, he held his cock as it twitched at the thought of fucking a man. To feel his dick brushing against another man’s cock thrilled him to no end, and whenever his wife sucked his cock, he never thought of her on her knees in front of him, but a male kneeling before him with Max’s balls brushing his nameless face, dick down his throat, going so far down that he could lose himself inside this nameless and faceless guy.