Page 20 of Ctrl+Alt Submit
AARYN
I narrow my eyes at Errol an instant before I push him off of me. At the same time, I bolt to my feet like the place is on fire. Caught by surprise, he catches himself from taking a hard tumble but still winds up on the floor.
“Yeah, I do have something I want to say. Let’s start with what the actual fuck were you doing with that douchebag?” I’m standing over Errol, looking down at him.
He does that eyelash flutter that he does. It sent butterflies into my belly when he did it earlier, but now it feels like a taunt. “Maybe I just wanted to have fun,” he says with a smirk.
The tips of my fingers tingle an instant before I break. “You lying bitch !” I grab Errol by the shoulders and pull him to his feet. “Where do you get off sneaking around behind my back with Tyler? You were supposed to be with me — not that slimy piece of shit!”
My voice sounds so upset. I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t think this would feel so raw, so… real. With my fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder, I haul Errol over to the easy chair in the corner of the bedroom. I sit with my legs spread wide.
When I grab him by the hair and pull his head into my crotch, he lets out a little whimper. That should stop me —or at least slow me down. But I’m so focused on Errol as Eliza, the sound just inflames me.
“Get over here.” My voice is rough. “I don’t want to fucking hear your whining. You’re going to suck this cock and you’re going to make me feel good. You pulled the rug out from under my life —I’m taking what I want from you tonight!” I shout.
Improbably and unmistakably, I’m rock-hard. I grab the base of my cock and tighten my grip on Errol’s hair. “I’m not letting you up until you’re choking on this cock, whore. Director of marketing, my ass.” Errol looks up at me, eyes watering from the force of my grip.
“Should’ve just let you crawl under my desk and gag yourself on my cock,” I growl. “That’s all your mouth is really good for, isn’t it?” When he opens his mouth as he nods, I shove my cock in it.
I don’t hold back. Thrusting my hips forward, I force my entire length down his throat until I hit the back of it. I hold him down, hungry to feel the constriction as he fights his gag reflex. “Fuck, that’s hot,” I mutter.
By the time I pull Errol off my dick, his face is a mess — drool dripping off his chin and tears streaming down his cheeks. He lets out a ragged gasp and pants for breath. “That all you have to say for yourself?” I snarl. A dark impulse strikes me. I let go of his hair and slap him across the face.
Errol lets out a yelp, sending a jolt of guilt through me. I blanch. What the fuck am I doing? I must look as rattled as I feel. Because when he catches my eye, a frown darts across his face an instant before he locks eyes with me.
He challenges me with a glare, smirking as he spits the words at me: “Is that the best you can do?”
Fuck. He really wants me to see this through.
I grab him. He outweighs me, but he puts up no resistance as I wrestle him onto his belly on the floor. “You’re going to be sorry you said that when it’s my dick pounding you instead of just my hand on your face,” I snap.
“Oh, you think so?” he shoots back. My hand swings down onto his bare ass. His hips jerk in response to the impact and he lets out a half-stifled moan. What just happened? Did he like that?
The urgency of the moment crowds the rest of my thoughts. “I’m gonna make sure you know whose fucking ass this is —who you belong to,” I snap, punctuating my words with slaps until the pale skin goes pink underneath my hand.
“How long?” I pant. “How fucking long were you banging him under my nose before I caught you? Huh?” Even though the normal, rational part of my mind realizes this is just an insane charade, there’s still a vestigial, violent, lizard-brain impulse to tear apart everything within reach in search of an answer.
I wrap my hand around Errol’s throat as he gasps out, “Long enough.” I squeeze tight enough to feel his pulse fluttering against my fingertips. Purging the poison of my feelings, the volume of my voice climbs until I’m yelling at him.
“I know how little you think of me now, how you probably always despised me —I should’ve never given you the time of day! You embarrassed me. You hurt me.”
Do I feel a little dumb saying all this? Yeah. Does it feel good to say these uncomfortable thoughts, to exhume and drag into the light of day my buried suspicions and fears? Also yeah.
The heat burning in my heart is sharp, throwing off sparks, threatening to explode and blow me apart. When I look down again, it’s not even Errol I see as he squirms on the floor beneath me. In my mind’s eye, I see Eliza.
I lean over to the night table and grab the lube.
I’m breathing hard, and my pulse is beating in my ears like I’ve just run a sprint as I pop the lid open.
I rub lube all over my dick before turning my attention back to Errol.
I hike his hips up. Even though I know he lubed himself up earlier, I trace slick fingers over his rim anyway.
He shivers, his inhale a hiss of anticipation. My heart pounding and my cock dripping, I ease a finger into him like I saw him do earlier. Errol lets out a soft moan, rocking his hips back like he’s hungry for more.
I huff out a laugh as I pull my finger out.
Giving his ass a sharp slap, I slide my cock between his cheeks until my head notches at his opening.
“Fucking slut,” I mutter. “Am I going to be able to just shove my hard cock into this greedy cunt all at once? You want that?” When Errol nods, I prod him. “Say it.”
“Fill me up all at once. Fuck me hard. I need it —my cunt needs it rough,” he pants. I’m too afraid of hurting him to actually enter him roughly, but something about that word in his mouth makes my cock even harder.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan as my crown breaches his entrance.
“I’m gonna stuff you so full of my dick you’re not going to be able to swallow without feeling like you’ve got my cockhead in the back of your throat.
The way I take you is going to make the way he had you bent over that desk look like a fucking junior prom date. ”
Errol lets out a low moan, rocking his hips back to meet my thrusts. My words are ringing in my ears over the sounds of our heavy breathing and flesh slapping against flesh. I grab his hips to hold him still so I can control the rhythm and start fucking him faster.
“Holy shit, that’s a tight pussy,” I pant.
Errol lets out a low whine in response. “Not for long, though. I’m going to wreck you.
Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t even walk out of here, because I want to see you crawling like the animal you are,” I snarl.
Errol’s inhale is a sharp hiss, and his hips buck.
“Enough of that,” I snap. I throw my full weight onto him, forcing him down on his belly as I chase my release. “I’m in control here, slut. You wanted to get pounded by a big dick? You’re gonna get it so good you’re gonna be sorry you ever begged for it.”
For all my talk, I’m astonished —and a little embarrassed —at how soon I feel that low, tingling heat building between my legs.
“Oh God, fuck —” I thread my hand through Errol’s hair and yank his head back.
“Get on your knees, doll —I’m gonna paint your face with such a huge load of come, you’re never going to get the scent of me off of you. ”
Errol shudders. Oh . I laugh a little to cover the strange fluttering of nerves in my chest. “You like that?”
“Please, please —” His face is blotchy, his breath coming in rapid little jerks. “Put me on my knees,” he whispers. “I need it.”
A goddamn earthquake couldn’t stop my orgasm at this point, but as I pull out of Errol and aim my explosion at his face, there’s a half-formed thought in the back of my head that something seismic is definitely happening.
Thick white streaks stripe his cheeks, splattering across his nose and mouth.
He keeps lips parted and his eyes glued on me.
When I finally stop coming, he licks his lips with an expression like the cat who just got the canary.
His eyes flutter shut for a second as he swallows, a hungry sound vibrating in his throat.
M y legs are still shaking, but after I stand, I steady myself enough to reach down and offer Errol a hand.
He takes it. I feel his gaze on me, but I can’t look at him as I sit on the bed in a daze.
I hear running water in the bathroom. After it stops and the old-fashioned doorknob creaks, I stand on jellied legs.
When I pass him in the hallway, Errol catches my elbow. His face looks freshly-scrubbed. I search his eyes for any hints of what he might be feeling —shit, I could use some help figuring out what I’m supposed to be feeling.
He leans in and plants a tiny kiss at the corner of my mouth. Yeah, he’s definitely got a solid inch on me. Maybe two.
“Would you sleep in my room tonight?” he asks. “I — that was pretty intense. Not in a bad way! But I’d kind of like to be close right now. Nothing horny — just sort of unwind and cuddle before we fall asleep.”
I undress and take the far side of the bed, barely getting the covers pulled down before my naked body collapses into them. I realize I’m damp with sweat and smell like sex. For a minute, I feel guilty about how good it feels under the crisp, clean sheets.
Errol flips off the bedside light and scoots his body next to mine, laying a palm on my chest as he curls his body up against my side.
When I drape my arm around him, the movement feels habituated, as if I’ve fallen asleep countless nights exactly like this.
It’sa strange sense, like deja vu , both bizarre and bizarrely comforting.
Inside my brain feels like the day after a storm, when you step outside into glittering sunlight to a tangle of downed phone lines and tree branches and blown-off roof shingles.
I’m mortified to feel my eyes filling and my voice growing thick and choppy with tears.
“But why?” I’m speaking softly but my voice still sounds overly loud in the quiet room.
“I still don’t get it. I asked her what the fuck and she never told me why. Why ?”
Errol slips his arm all the way around me as he presses his lips to my bare shoulder.
“Because you deserve somebody who treats you better,” he murmurs.
His lips brush my skin again as he speaks, sending a shiver through me.
“So, so much better than she ever could have been to you. You deserve to be respected, spoiled… obeyed.” The last two syllables are more breath than word.
I shut my eyes and turn my head away from him, letting my tears spill over my cheeks. I think Errol knows I’m crying but he doesn’t force me to admit it. He gives me the privacy of darkness as feelings I can’t put into words pour out of me until sleep finally takes over.