Breaking and Entering

Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sexual situations.

*

Josh was trying not to cry. At times like this, I almost feel bad about the job I have to do. Then I remember that I am the one in charge and if I don't do it, no one else who will.

When you are the head of a large company, the only people who can really understand the challenges you face are the ones who do the same thing. No one else gets it. No one understands the pressure I am under.

I am the CEO of an advertising company. The billboards you pass on your way to work, the ads you flick through in magazines, the commercials on TV, chances are I had a hand in at least half of them.

Advertising is not important, you might think. Plenty of people do. And yet, millions of dollars are made and lost on the deals I make. That's why Josh is trying to not to cry. He was supposed to organise a meeting between myself and one of the company's most important clients for today, the 7^th. Instead, he accidently told them it was on the 17^th, so it never happened.

'Do you have any idea how fucking important this is?' I told him when he arrived in my office, already knowing what he was in for. 'Do you have any clue at all just how much money is on the line here?'

I did all the talking. Even when I asked him questions, he didn't bother answering, which I liked. When I get worked up, my employees know there's no point trying to argue with me. I'll always win in the end.

When I felt satisfied with the verbal ass-kicking I had administered, Josh muttered an apology and left my office with his head down. I noticed his hands were shaking as he scurried to his desk and began to gather his things to leave.

The office floor was empty. Another late night.

I sighed and returned to my computer to finish sending off my final emails of the day. Josh usually said goodbye before he left, but he simply got up from his desk and walked out tonight. Not out of rudeness, I thought, but out of fear of having to speak to me again before I had a chance to calm down.

The screen on my phone lit up. A text from Rachel: Bill, where are you?

Be home soon, I wrote back.

She responded immediately: That's what you always say. This is getting ridiculous. It's not good enough.

I read the message and sighed. I put my phone in the pocket of my coat so I wouldn't have to look at it. Add my wife to the list of people who don't understand what I do.

The main door of the office opened and closed. I looked up. The guy who takes out the trash had walked in. He came every night around this time. I did not know his name. Sometimes, when I saw people like him, I wondered about the different choices we must have made for me to be where I am and them to be where they are. I kept those thoughts to myself, for obvious reasons.

I returned to my computer and tried to focus on the few remaining tasks of the day. My phone vibrated in my coat. I knew it was Rachel. Could she, just once, give me a God damn break?

The garbage man appeared in the doorway. I usually did not pay him any attention when he came to take trash from my office but this evening, for some reason, I looked up.

He was dressed in a tight black T-shirt that clung to his body. He was a big guy. Huge arms, a thick neck, broad chest. I wondered could I take him in a fight. He had a heavy brow and a square jaw. He was young, probably twenty-five at the oldest. Still a few years to make something of himself, I thought.

He gestured to the trash can. I nodded, looking back at my screen. He walked inside with a large bag that he emptied the contents of the can into. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the muscularity of his legs. They were thick and hefty. His glutes were round and pert.

I was in descent shape myself. Once you hit your late thirties, just maintaining the body you already had becomes a challenge, never mind building new muscle. Still, I looked better than most of men in my age group. But looking at this guy made me want to leave the office right now and find my way to the nearest gym.

'I'm locking up tonight,' he said.

I looked up at him. I had never heard him speak before.

'You gonna be much longer?'

'Another few minutes,' I said.

'Ballpark?' he said. 'I want to get a workout in tonight.'

I stared at him. 'I just said I'll be another minute.'

He gave me a look that I knew none of my employees would ever dare give me. He left the room and went down the hall.

Prick, I thought.

Thirty minutes later, I was ready to leave. I locked the door of my office and made my way downstairs. The garbage guy was there. He was sat on a stool, texting on his phone, waiting for me to get out. I left without saying anything and drove home.

My house looks large and foreboding in the dark. I punched the code for the gates and they creaked open.

Rachel was at the foot of the staircase when I opened the door and turned on the lights. She was wearing a white vest and matching underwear.

'Nice of you to join me,' she said.

I realised I had no idea what time it was. I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Just after eleven pm.

'Rach, don't,' I said, hanging my coat up. 'I've -- '

'Had a really long day, I know,' she finished for me.

'Did you make dinner?'

'For myself, yes.'

'So there's nothing for me?'

She shrugged. 'I guess I forgot. Oops.'

'You really think I have the energy to go and cook a meal right now?' I said.

'I don't know, Bill. I know I definitely don't. I'm going back to bed. Goodnight.' She turned and walked up the stairs.

'Don't forget to close the bathroom window,' I called after her.

She did not reply. She turned the corner and disappeared, shutting off the upstairs light.

I went into the kitchen and scanned the fridge, deciding a bottle of beer would suffice as my meal. I went into the sitting room and sat on the couch, kicking my shoes off and putting my feet up.

Rachel was angry, so I would let her be angry. I would wait forty minutes or so before I went to bed, that would give her plenty of time to curse my name to herself a dozen times before falling asleep.

I turned the TV on and flicked through the channels, hoping to de-stress with a mindless game show or a replay of a football game. I took a huge gulp of my drink and settled into the couch.

A few moments later, I heard movement upstairs. I turned the volume on the TV down.

'Rachel?' I called, turning my head halfway around. No answer.

I thought about the garbage guy again and that look on his face when he came to my office. Did he not know who he was talking to? He was an independent contractor, hired externally. Still, I wondered if I had the power to get him fired. I probably did. I could get anyone in the building fired if I really wanted to.

Just after midnight, I decided to call it a day. I reached for the remote and turned the TV off. In the reflection of the screen, I saw a dark shape behind me. I smiled. Rachel had come to apologize.

A chill shot through my spine when I felt a cold, hard object touch the side of my neck.

'Get up,' a deep, familiar voice said. 'Drop the bottle'.

He was holding a gun to my throat. I dropped the bottle of beer, letting the remaining contents spill onto the carpet. Slowly, I raised my hands in the air.

'I don't want any trouble,' I said.

'I said get up.'

I stood. He dug the gun into my back.

'Kitchen, now,' he said. 'Don't make a sound.'

A strong hand gripped my shoulder and led me into the kitchen. He turned on the light. My heart raced. My shirt clung to my skin with sweat. He must want money, I thought. One look at the house and you would know the people inside had plenty of it. He led me to the table until my legs were pressed against the edge, the gun still digging into my back.

'What do you want?' I said.

'Your wife sure is a heavy sleeper,' he said. 'Never even turned over when I walked down the hall and stuck my head in the room.'

I grimaced. The bathroom window. We had practically invited him in.

'Don't you dare touch my wife,' I said.

Strong hands gripped my waist as the intruder spun me around so I faced him for the first time. His eyes bore into me, his face inches from mine. It was him, the guy from the office. He had locked up after I left and followed me home.

'Who said it was your wife I'm after?'

He turned me around again and pushed the upper half of my body down on the table.

'Arch your back,' he said.

'What?'

'Do as I fucking say.'

Reluctantly, I complied. Although it was tough to admit to myself, I was scared. I had no idea what he wanted or what he was capable of.

Was he going to ransack the house? Beat me senseless and leave me for dead? I wondered if I shouted loud enough would Rachel hear and call the police. No, he would shoot me dead before I had finished saying her name.

Just when I was expecting him to either shoot or hit me, something else happened. I felt a hand grab the inside of my right thigh and run slowly up my leg. He did the same with his other hand and placed them both on my ass, squeezing hard.

'Wha-What the hell are you doing?'

His hands gripped my pants and he ripped them open, followed quickly by my underwear. I grimaced as I felt the air on my skin.

My whole body tensed up as I felt his finger touch my hole. He rubbed it gently at first and then slipped it inside. With his other hand, he slapped my ass, treating me like a bitch.

'Please stop,' I said, my head lying on the table. 'Stop. I'm not gay.'

He laughed. 'Really? You seem to be enjoying this a lot.'

I felt my face turn hot. Against my will, my dick was starting to get hard. I could feel the blood flowing in, my shaft growing as his finger went deeper inside me.

I kept my breathing slow and steady, trying not to panic. I felt him put another finger inside me. Without meaning to, I moaned.

It did not make any sense. I was not gay. Why did it feel so good? And why was I starting to enjoy the feeling of his hand pressing me down on the table?

My cock was rock hard now, there was no denying it. I felt the head brush against the bottom side of the table. I wanted to jerk it, badly.

He took his fingers out of my ass and spun me around. Grabbing me by the shirt, he pulled me toward him, ripping some of the buttons off. The remainder of what was left of my pants and underwear fell to my ankles.

'You think I didn't notice the way you were staring at me when I came into your office?' he said.

'What? No, you've got the wrong -- '

He put his hands on my shoulders and forced me onto my knees. I watched as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his tight pants. God, his legs were huge. He could probably squash my head between them if he wanted. The outline of his cock was visible through his underwear.

The gun was still in his hand, pointing at me. I made one last attempt to hold on to what was left of my dignity.

'Look, if you want money or something, you can have it.'

He pulled his underwear down and his cock sprang out, erect. It was large, bigger than mine.

'Whoever said I wanted your money?' he smirked.

He put one hand on my shoulder and brought me closer to his dick. He made long, slow strokes.

'Suck it,' he ordered.

I shook my head. 'Please. I can't.'

He moved quick. His hand was on the back of my head, pushing me down. I almost gagged as his cock filled my mouth. His left hand on my head and his right holding the gun, he thrust his legs back and forth as he fucked my mouth.

My emotions were hard to process. I was in a state of shock. Was this really happening?

I had never been the victim of a crime before, much less a sexual assault. Was it still considered a sexual assault if it was making my dick rock hard? And why was it so hard? Was I getting turned on?

I looked up and watched as the intruder raised his head in the air, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened his mouth and let out a deep moan. He was enjoying this. I was making him feel good.

His cock was thick and warm. I never thought I would have another man's cock in my mouth. I knew that some guys, when they were in high school or college, would sometimes jerk off together. An old buddy told me his old roommate had once jerked him off when they both came home drunk from a bar. Harmless fun. But I had never even done anything like that, never even considered it.

When Rachel and I first began dating, she was self-conscious about her oral skills.

'Is this OK?' she would ask, taking my dick out of her mouth and looking up at me with hope in her eyes. 'Am I doing it right?'

Apparently, an old boyfriend had told her she was not good at giving head, leading to a prolonged insecurity that she did not know how to please a man. I always reassured her there was nothing wrong with the way she gave head. In fact, she was pretty good at it. And it seemed, so was I.

'Fuck yeah,' the intruder said. His voice was deep, authoritative. He spoke in the same kind of tone I used when I addressed my subordinates in the office.

To my surprise, I seemed to know what I was doing. When you've been on the receiving end of a blow job, it's not that hard to figure out how to give one. Surprised at myself, I bobbed my head up and down on his dick, running my tongue slowly along the shaft.

I was starting to like how it felt in my mouth. Hard and strong. When my tongue moved up to the slit of his dick, I started to slowly flick it back and forth. He gripped my hair even tighter and moaned even louder. I could taste pre-come on my tongue. I had never tasted it before, never even tried my own out of curiosity whenever I jerked off. I liked it. Embarrassed to admit it, even just silently to myself, I realized I wanted more.

The intruder pulled my mouth off his cock, leaving a trail of saliva running down my chin. I quickly wiped it away. He laughed.

His laughter was cruel but my cock was harder than ever. My heart was beating fast. I was scared what was going to come next, but also excited.

'You like eating your wife's pussy?' he said.

'Uh... yeah, I do,' I said nervously.

Was he going to wake her up and force her to join us? I hoped not. She would never look at me the same way again if she saw what I had just done.

'You ever eat her ass?' the intruder went on.

I nodded.

'You like it?'

'Yeah, I do.'

'Good.'

He turned around and pressed my face into his huge, muscular ass. Instinctively, I put both my hands up and squeezed his cheeks, feeling the mounds of flesh in my hands.

'Lick,' he ordered.

My cock began to leak pre-come as soon as my tongue touched his hole. I couldn't believe what I was doing. My tongue went back and forth over his hole, I kissed and sniffed it under his orders.

He turned around and pushed me down so my whole body was lying on the floor. He smirked at how helpless I was to stop him as he sat on my face. I continued to rim his hole and stick my tongue in and out as I felt the full weight of his muscular body on me.

'You sound like you're enjoying yourself back there,' he said.

'It tastes so good,' I said quietly, embarrassed at my own admission.

He laughed. 'You can be a good boy when you want to be.'

I could feel my cock twitching, begging to be stroked. I kept worshipping his ass, kissing every inch. I realised I was becoming more and more eager to please him.

'It's funny, isn't it?' he said.

'What?' I asked.

'I see you everyday in the office putting on that tough guy act. Sauntering around, making everyone scared of you. And now here you are with your pants around your ankles and your tongue in my ass.'

I blushed. He was right. In only a matter of minutes of pointing that gun at me, the intruder had made me into something I had never been before. For the first time in my life I was completely powerless. And it was fucking hot.

He stood up. His body was truly magnificent. I lay there on the ground, open-mouthed, taking every inch of him in. Such dominance, such masculinity. My cock twitched again.

'Up,' he said.

I complied. But I didn't stand up, I simply got onto my knees. It was as though I had lost my mind. My old instincts, which would have been to one-up this guy when he wasn't looking and then teaching him a fucking lesson, were gone and in their place was a need. A need to please.

He grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and led me over to the table. I knew what was coming. There was no turning back from here. He spat on my hole, rubbing it in with his thumb.

I watched as he climbed onto the table and lay down, his erect cock pointed in the air. He beckoned me forward. I realized he was no longer holding the gun anymore. It was now lying on the ground. He had dropped it while I was worshipping his ass. I could pick it up right now and shoot him, I thought. I could end all of this in an instant. But he knew I wouldn't. He knew he didn't need the gun anymore. He knew all he would have to do was click his fingers and I would climb on the table and sit on his cock.

'Sit,' he ordered.

And just like that, I obeyed. I crawled toward him. For a moment, our faces were mere inches from each other. I longed to kiss him, but I didn't. I didn't know how he would react.

'I've... I've never been fucked before,' I said.

'I know.'

'I hope I'm good at it.'

'I'll make you good at it. Now sit on my cock.'

I squatted down until I felt the head of his cock touch my hole. He grabbed hold of my waist at either side and pressed me down. I gasped as I felt my body stretch open for his cock. I placed my hands on his rock-hard chest and closed my eyes, letting the sensation of his cock filling me up take over.

Rachel and I had fucked on this table. It had been the first place we had sex after I bought the house. Except, I was lying where the intruder was and she was the one on top of me, servicing my cock.

His grip on my waist tightened as he continued to push me further down on his dick.

'Oh my God,' I said, breathing heavily. 'It's so big, I don't know if I can take it.'

'Take it,' he said in that low, husky voice. 'Take it all.'

'Yes, Sir,' I said, without thinking. I couldn't remember the last time I had ever addressed another man as Sir. It felt good.

Just when I thought I couldn't handle any more, I felt his balls brush against my cheeks. His entire cock was inside me, stretching my hole.

'See, that wasn't so tough now was it?'

'No Sir.'

'Good boy.'

He put his hands behind his head and relaxed.

'Now, bounce up and down on my fucking cock.'

Keeping my hands on his chest, I slowly flexed my leg muscles as I moved up and down. I began to quicken my pace, enjoying the feeling of his cock going in and out. He reached one hand around and slapped my ass hard.

'That's it,' he said, 'ride that fucking cock.'

I quickened my pace. The table was starting to shake. Rachel could wake up at any minute, I thought. She could walk right in and see her husband like this. But in that moment, I didn't care. All I cared about was how good this stud's cock felt inside me.

'You're leaking on me,' he said.

'What?'

He gestured down. His stomach glistened with pre-come from my cock. I blushed.

'Sorry,' I said.

He smirked. 'Feels good doesn't it?'

I nodded.

'You can jerk off.'

God, it was so hot waiting for his permission. I started to pull on my cock as I continued to service his. I wasn't going to be able to last long before coming. He had worked me up so much I could blow any second.

The stud quickened his pace. I felt his legs move underneath me as he thrusted his cock in and out, his balls slapping against my cheeks.

I quickened my stroking. I couldn't hold it any longer. Hot streams of come shot from my cock across the intruder's chest.