Page 14 of Ctrl+Alt Submit

AARYN

“ O h my God.” I just lie back for a minute or so, catching my breath, still floating on air. The strangeness of this situation and the undeniable reality of how good I feel are both making my head spin.

Errol lifts his head out of my lap, gets up from between my splayed legs and sits next to me, leaning against my arm. “I really liked that,” he says in my ear. His tone is shy, almost like a confession.

I huff out a laugh. “Oh, not as much as I did. I swear to God, I’ve never — that was so —” My words are as disjointed as my thoughts. I try to line them up.

Inexplicably, the one that assembles itself first is that I really ought to return the favor. “I definitely owe you one,” I say as I reach for his belt.

He catches me by the wrist. “No, it’s OK. You don’t have to.”

I frown. “But — don’t you want me to?”

What the hell is even happening here? This is the weirdest and most confused case of hurt feelings ever.

“Ohhh…” The lightbulb goes on and I blurt out what’s in my head. “You think I’d be terrible at it, right?”

“What?” Errol looks at me like I’ve got two heads. I’m surprised when his face flushes red. “It’s not that,” he mumbles.

I frown. “Well, then why don’t you want me to?”

“I do .” He looks torn, although I can’t figure out why. “I just —” Still blushing furiously, he sits up straight and drops his head into his hands with a groan. When he does speak, his voice is muffled.

“I like to wear, um, sexy underwear sometimes. Like, kind of feminine stuff. You know, satin and lace and all that.”

“Oh.” I turn this new information over in my head. “And you’re wearing something like that now?” Errol nods without answering or looking at me, his head still buried in his hands. “What does it look like?”

“What?” His head jerks up.

“I mean, I’m… curious,at least a little.” Even though I don’t exactly know why. But here we are. “So I guess what I’m asking is, can I see?”

Errol blinks at me before his expression darkens, eyes narrowing and brows lowering. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No! I’m sorry if it sounds weird. Was that bad to ask?”

“You really want to see.” He doesn’t say it like a question, but his tone is still one of disbelief.

“Yeah.” The conversation we had earlier about his interest in dominance and submission floats back into my mind, along with the whimper he let out when I tightened my grip on his hair while he was blowing me.

Seized with a flash of inspiration, I summon my best demanding-boss attitude. “Show me,” I say sharply. “I said I want to see.”

Errol’s eyes widen, his lips part and he almost manages to stifle the little gasp that slips out. “OK,” he whispers. His eyes are saucers as he stands, fumbling a little with his belt as he undoes it. He’s unzipped with his hands at his waistband when he pauses. “Down or off?”

We’ve dressed or undressed in front of each other countless times, giving this moment a surreal quality — at once familiar and yet wholly alien.

I don’t understand what’s going on inside of me.

There’s just something about Errol’s manner, both eager and hesitant, and the hushed pitch of his voice.

I never could have imagined that I’d be into telling him what to do and getting a charge out of it when he does, but —once again — here we are.

I swallow and try to sound authoritative. “Off. Not just your pants. Everything.”

The short distance between us virtually crackles with electricity. Errol rushes to take off his shirt before yanking his pants down and stepping out of them. Standing in front of me, he brings his hands in front of his crotch.

I shake my head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that.” He snaps his arms to his sides, face flushing again as I take in the sight in front of me.

There’s nothing kind of feminine about this.

Unapologetically feminine is more like it.

I can see the outline of his hard cock behind red satin.

The snug, shiny fabric cups his balls. Despite the skimpy cut and the black lace bordering the waistband,the shape makes it clear that these aren’t actually women’s underwear.

The realization is unexpectedly and entirely arousing.

So is Errol’s shy but absolute obedience.

I run my tongue over my lips. “Turn around for me.” Even though I just came, my dick twitches at the combination of the visual and the weird, hot sense of power I get from his eagerness to do what I tell him.

The entire back of the underwear is sheer black lace.

It hugs the globes of his ass tightly, its floral pattern accentuating their fullness.

Sure, I’ve had women decked out in lingerie in my bed before.

This is nothing like that. It’s different —sexy in a way I can’t quite describe, but that my rapidly stiffening cock completely endorses.

Sinful is kind of a funny word, but it’s the one that pops into my head as my eyes devour his thick, lace-covered ass.

When Errol turns back to face me, my eyebrows go up as I notice the darker spot where the satin covers his swollen cockhead. He’s soaked through his panties with precum. “Fuck, that’s hot,” I breathe.

It’s an effort to tear my eyes away from his cock to look at his face. I’m surprised to see that he looks uncomfortable. “You don’t think my ass is too big?” he mumbles.

“What?” My heart sinks that his mind goes there. “No, of course not.” I give my head a little shake. “You are —you’re just a fucking sight. Just really sexy — sinful , even.” That brings the hint of a smile to his lips.

I laugh as a memory surfaces. “That very first day when I walked into Finn’s and saw you, I caught myself checking out your ass when you walked away to get me a beer.”

“Really?” Errol studies my face. “No way. You’re yanking my chain.”

“God’s honest truth. Surprised the fuck out of me when I realized I was doing it,” I confess. A question has been circling in my head since Errol’s admission. “Do you wear stuff like that all the time?”

“No. Most of the stuff like this I have is… skimpier —” My eyebrows go up as my gaze shamelessly drops back to Errol’s crotch. He follows my eyes and exhales a quiet laugh. “Like thongs and stuff. I figured this pair would be the most comfortable for lugging boxes of stuff around.”

“Oh. Why’d you decide to wear them today? I mean, instead of briefs or whatever.”

Errol gives me that shy-sly grin I’m rapidly coming to love. “This is my lucky pair. I guess I was feeling a little superstitious.”

I’m about to reply, but my train of thought is derailed when I see what I was too focused on Errol’s underwear to notice before: A silver ring runs through each of his nipples. The bright glint of metal stands out against his nearly hairless chest.

“Oh, shit! You’re pierced.”

“Uh-huh,” he says a little shyly, and I bring my eyes back to his face again.

White hair tumbles over his forehead, disheveled from pulling his T-shirt quickly over his head, and his cheeks are flushed.

There’s still a hint of uncertainty in his expression, but his dark eyes are gleaming.

“Like what you see?” he asks in a whisper, and I can’t do anything but grin like an idiot for a few seconds.

“Yeah — for sure. It’s hot.” I reach out and run my fingers over one of his nipples. Errol stifles a groan. I bring my eyes to his face. “Does it make them more sensitive?” I ask, although from the lust in his eyes and the way he’s biting his lip, I’m guessing I know the answer.

“Uh-huh. A lot , actually. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever come just from nipple play, but if you keep doing that, you might not even have to blow me.”

Even though Errol just gave me the most eager, ego-inflating blowjob of my life, I’m pretty sure I could get off again without much effort. Why is my body suddenly responding like this? Did something about him change? Or did I?

Errol interrupts my thoughts when he abruptly climbs on top of me, straddling me like he did in the truck earlier. I’m grateful for the distraction when runs his nose up the side of my neck and buries it in my hair with a hum of pleasure. “You smell so good,” he mumbles.

That is statistically impossible, but with post-orgasm endorphins still flooding my brain, I’m not about to argue.

I turn my head and press my lips against the hair over Errol’s ear.

“You look hot. I want to make you feel good. If you’re not just turning me down because you think I’ll give a terrible blowjob, will you at least let me try? ”

Errol straightens back up. “I got just as sweaty as you did today.”

I shrug. “I mean, you can’t be any worse than I was, and you didn’t mind that, right? So would you let me?”

He studies me in silence for another few seconds before his face relaxes. “OK, Stud. If you really want to, I’d like that.”