Echo's

ECHOS

VOICES IN MY HEAD

Like many of my stories, this came to me while reading another story in Lit. It has nothing to do with that particular story. Just a sentence gave me the idea. I'm not going to go into what this story is about. I'll let you figure it out while you read it.

I wrote this story in about three hours. No editor, but I use Grammarly for punctuation and spelling.

I hope you like the story.

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"Oh. God, fuck me baby, fuck me. Don't you ever stop!" She screamed loudly.

"Bob....BOB!" I realized the voices had overpowered real life again. My boss, Rick, was asking me a question.

"I'm sorry, Rick, what did you say?" I asked. Everyone in the conference room was looking at me with either disdain or pity. Some a little both.

"I was asking if you had the numbers for the Proctor deal? If you have something more important on your mind, please let us know." He said, his voice dripping with scorn. He and I have never had a good relationship. We both started in the company around the same time. There's always been an unspoken competition between us. Over the last year, he has pulled ahead. We both applied for the manager's position he now holds. I thought I would get it because of my great work ethic. He won it because he kisses ass better than I do. He's been a dick to me ever since.

"Yeah, I got them right here." I pulled out a folder, opened it, and passed out the correct paperwork. I'm Bob Johnson. I work for a marketing company here in Greenville. We specialize in internet marketing for medium-sized companies. Those that have between 2 million and 20 million dollars in revenue. I've been working on the Proctor deal for the last three weeks. It's taken a lot of time, more than I thought it would. Some late nights and Saturdays. It would have been easier if Dick, I mean Rick, had given me a full team to do it, instead of half the people needed.

I began to go through the numbers when Dick, I mean Rick, interrupts me. "These numbers are wrong."

"What do you mean they are wrong? I plugged in the numbers you gave me." I respond angrily.

"I sent you the new numbers on Monday. You didn't check your email?" He said.

"Of course, I check my email. I check it all day long. Like most of you, sweeping my hand across the room.' I even get a notification. Are you sure you sent them to me, hit send, or just didn't send it?" I say with equal disdain towards him. I go to open my laptop to check my emails. He's looking through his phone for the same thing. "I don't see anything from you for the whole week."

"Did you check your spam bin?" He questions.

"Why the hell would it be in the spam bin? That doesn't make any sense." I returned his question with an equal amount of heat. Today is not the day to get into a pissing match with me. The other five people sitting around the conference table are either open-mouthed or find something interesting on the table in front of them.

"I'll have to check with IT; I'm 100% sure I sent it on Monday." He said with dismissal

"You should have followed up to make sure I had the correct information," I say as I gather my paperwork and close my laptop. "I wasted God knows how much time because you wanted to make me look bad. This is on you." I walk out of the room. I hear Dick yelling that the meeting isn't over.

I'm at my desk, fuming. This may be the end for me. I can't deal with this bullshit much more. I spin in my chair and stare out of the window.

"You fuck me so good, I crave your cock. It's the best I've had, I'm cumming again."

The words don't stop, no matter what I do. They're always there. I'm jarred from my reverie by a knock on the door.

It's Darius and Jee. I motion them in. "What the hell is going on between you two? I've never seen you like that before." Darius asks. We've worked together for the last three years. Jee for the last two. They both work in creative.

"He's just being an asshole. I've already sent an email with a confirmation receipt, explaining what happened to Melvin. He actually nearly ruined this deal, just to sabotage me. What a dick." Causing them both to laugh in agreement.

"Why does he have it out for you so much? What did you ever do to him?' Jee asked. She's usually a very quiet young lady.

"Nothing I can think of. We started around the same time. Always competed for promotions and deals. He also applied for the manager's position that he holds now. He kissed the right asses. Me, I hate the taste of ass. I don't know how much longer I can take his shit." I tell them. "I have enough bullshit in my life, not to have to deal with it at work."

Before we could continue, Melvin popped his head into my office. "Hey, you two, Bob, can I see you in my office?" He said. Not quite a request.

"Sure thing, Mel." I get up and give Jee and Darius a look that they return.

As I walk down the hallway to Melvin's office, I hear the voice again. "I love the way you eat my pussy. Oh my God, you're licking my asshole. Yes, yes, you're making me cum from licking my ass!"

"Bob, where are you going?" Melvin asks as I realize I walked past his office.

"I'm sorry, Mel, I had something on my mind," I explain.

Walking into the office, "That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.' Once we were seated. He was in the leather armchair, and I sat on the love seat. 'I got your email. I'm a little disturbed about what you say in it. You're accusing Rick of trying to sabotage you on the Proctor deal. Is that right?" He quizzes. We've known each other since I started. The manager position came open when he was promoted to VP of Sales. He was the one who had the final say on who got his old job. I didn't hold it against him. It's just office politics. You have to learn to play the game.

"Bob, you say, Rick said your numbers were wrong because you didn't get the new numbers he sent. You say you never got the email. Is that right.' I motion that it's correct. 'Why would he do something like that? It doesn't make sense." He challenges.

"Why do murderers kill people?' He looks at me with a shocked expression. 'Because they think they can get away with it. Ever since he got the new job, he's had it out for me. Most of it has been subtle. The kind of things that if I complained about them, it would look foolish. Lately, he's had a shitty attitude towards me. I don't know what I've done to him. But honestly, Melvin, I'm near my breaking point. A man can only deal with so much."

Melvin appeared to be thinking about what I've said. He reached over to his desk and grabbed a couple of pieces of paper. He looked at them for a moment. "I have a disturbing report from Rick and Jason."

"Jason, what does he have to do with anything?" Jason was one of the managers on the creative side.

"They detail various instances of insubordination. When you refused to follow instructions. Times that you were rude to coworkers, management, as well as clients. And the incident with the numbers for the Proctor deal."

"Give me that cock, I love it, I love, I can't live without it"

I sat there amazed that I was being accused of all these violations, until he got to the last one. His voice almost drowned out the voice in my head. "Wait, how can a written reprimand contain something that happened thirty minutes ago? I don't even have any interaction with Jason for him to make a complaint against me. I'm telling you, Melvin, this is just more of the same BS." I argue.

"Bob, I have to take this seriously. This comes from two managers. At the minimum, it needs to be investigated." He says calmly.

"What is there to investigate? You know what, Melvin, I'll make it easy for you. I'm giving you my two-week notice, and taking the rest of my vacation time. We can call it even. I'll clear out my desk today." I said through gritted teeth. I rise up from the love seat.

"Hold on, Bob. I'm not asking you to quit or looking to fire you, okay? Sit down. When I say investigate, I mean find out, one: if what is written is true. Hold on...dammit.' he says as I get ready to say something. 'Or two: find out why they have it out for you. If you have nothing to worry about, then you have nothing to worry about. I know it came down between you and Rick for my old job. Yes, I picked Rick. I'm starting to have second thoughts. Let me do my due diligence. Take some time off and come back next Monday.

"Fine, that works for me, as long as everything is fair," I tell him. He assures me it will be. I go back to my office and pack up a couple of things. I leave my laptop and company phone on my desk. As I walk out, I see people looking at me questioningly since I'm leaving before lunch. At least, I'm not carrying a box.

I get in my car. I sit, trying to decide where I want to go. I start to hear the voice again. "How could I have lived this long and never had sex like this before?" It's telling me I can't go home. I figure I might as well have lunch. I decide to treat myself, so I go to Webb's Custom Kitchen. When I get there, I order Duck Cigars to start. For mains, I get the braised short ribs. Since I have nowhere to be, I also get a Royal Bliss Seasonal beer. I take my time and enjoy the food. The beer pairs perfectly with the short ribs.

I try to ignore the voice screaming. "I'm cumming again. Jesus, I can't top cumming. You're making me squirt!" Even another beer doesn't help. I look at my watch; it's only 2:30. More time to kill. I'm not interested in watching a movie. I don't want to drink anymore. Two beers is enough. Fuck it, I go to Monster Mini Golf; it's a good way to waste a couple of hours.

I get there, and being a Wednesday at three, it's not very crowded. Hell, I think I'm the only person in there. The kid at the desk seems bored as he takes my money and gives me a ball and putter. As I place my ball and get ready to putt, the voice begins to flood my mind. "Your cock tastes so delicious. I love sucking your cock. The way it stretches my mouth. I can barely fit it in my mouth. I'm going to deep throat if I have to die to do it!" The first hole, it takes me 7 strokes to get it into the hole. The second hole isn't any better.

By the third hole, "You have so much pre-cum. It's more cum than a normal man would shoot. I need to taste you. I want to drown on your cum. I could live on it, and never eat anything else for the rest of my life." Eight strokes. Thank God no one is watching me. I must look like I have a handicap or something. The next three holes are a little better. Only because they aren't that complicated. No fucking windmills. I give up after the eleventh hole. "Your cum is like nectar from the Gods."

I hand in my club and ball. The kid doesn't even look up. I decide to go home. It's only twenty minutes away. Probably less at this time of day. "Next time you can have my ass. No one else has had it before. I want to give it to you and only you. You already own my pussy and mouth. I'm a little scared because you're so big. But I'm willing to suffer if it pleases you."

I pull into the driveway of our three-bedroom-two-bath house. We've lived here for going on four years. The plan was to start having kids within five years. My wife, Kellie, works at a design firm in Belmont. We've been married nearly eight years. We met right out of college. We didn't go to the same one. She graduated from Queens U in Charlotte, while I graduated from App State. Her car was already there. It wasn't a surprise. She usually got home before me.

It's funny, I never hear the voice when I'm at home. At least the voice in my head. "Hey, baby. I'm glad you're home. I'm thinking about ordering out tonight, if it's okay with you." My loving wife says as she leans in for a kiss. I turn my head so she kisses me on the cheek. She looks at me strangely. What's wrong, honey?" She asks.

No, I don't hear the voice in my head when I'm home. The voice in my head is like an echo that will play for the rest of my life.

THE END

The above is how I was going to end the story. I like making people think about what could be or would be. For those unhappy with it, I'm offering two different alternate endings.

ALTERNATE ENDING 1

"What's wrong, Honey?" She asks.

"I know," I say, looking at her with dead eyes.

She looks worried, but tries to hide it. We've been together long enough that I know her tells. Or at least I thought I did until two weeks ago. "What do you know? You're not making sense." She says, as she takes a step back.

"I know about you and Tommy Gears," I say blankly. I didn't know his name at first. It took some research. Tommy Gears, twenty-three-year-old waiter. He works at the diner she goes to for lunch. I guess he was on the menu also. What grown man is still called Tommy?

"Tommy Gears? I don't know anyone by that name." She says, still bluffing. But there it is, the tell: when she lies, she looks towards the right and raises her head slightly.

I lash out at her. "Come on, Kellie. Tommy Gears. The waiter at the Greenery Diner. Tommy Gears with the cum that tastes like nectar from the Gods. How could you forget that?' I give her a menacing look. She cowers away at my anger. "Tommy, Tommy Gears with the magical tongue and cock. Does that ring a bell?" She stands silently. Tears begin to run down her face.

"How the hell can you forget Tommy Gears that owns your pussy, mouth, and I'm sure by now your ass. That fucking Tommy Gears."I say through clenched teeth. My hands balled so tight they hurt.

"Baby, it's not..." is all she can get out.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU SLUT!" I scream as I bang the table, causing the silverware to jump and her glass of wine to spill. "It is what I think, bitch. It can't be anything else. I expect you out of this house by noon tomorrow.

"Where will I go? How can we work things out if I'm not here? Please, I love you, only you. I messed up, Bob, please honey," she begged.

"You might love me, but fucking Tommy Gears owns your body, remember. What's left for me? To pay for fucking bills? To take care of you when you're sick? Fuck you. Go live with fucking Tommy Gears. Oh, that's right. You can't. Because he already lives with two roommates. Go back to your parents' house; they are waiting for you.' She looked stricken. "You're damn right I told them their precious daughter is a cheating slut. And there is no working on us. We are done. Finished, Finito, Kaput, no more. Got it!" Noon tomorrow or whatever is left will be burnt, like our marriage! She ran upstairs to the bedroom, and I walked out.

EPILOGUE:

She did try to fight the divorce. She requested counseling. After four sessions, the therapist gave up. She couldn't understand the depth of her betrayal. The house was sold. Since we hadn't been in it very long, we walked away with nothing after fees. There were no winners or losers.

ALTERNATE ENDING 2

I try to ignore the voice screaming. "I'm cumming again. Jesus, I can't top cumming. You're making me squirt!" Even another beer doesn't help. I look at my watch; it's only 1:30. More time to kill. I'm not interested in watching a movie. I don't want to drink anymore. Two beers is enough. Fuck it, I go to Monster Mini Golf; it's a good way to waste a couple of hours.

***********

After a lousy eleven holes of mini golf, I figure I have time for a kill. I make a quick trip and take care of some important business. Something that should have been done sooner. I've had everything I needed in my car for the last week. I don't know if it's because dealing with shit at work has finally pushed me over the edge. But I resolved to settle this situation today. I notice the voice isn't that loud now.

At 5:30, I pull into the driveway of our three-bedroom-two-bath house. We've lived here for going on four years. The plan was to start having kids within five years. My wife, Kellie, works at a design firm in Belmont. We've been married nearly eight years. We met right out of college. We didn't go to the same one. She graduated from Queens U in Charlotte, while I graduated from App State. We were introduced by a mutual friend. Her car was already there. It wasn't a surprise. She usually got home before me.

It's funny, I never hear the voice when I'm at home. At least the voice in my head. "Hey, baby. I'm glad you're home. I'm thinking about ordering out tonight, if it's okay with you." My loving wife says, she leans in for a kiss. I turn my head so she kisses me on the cheek. She looks at me strangely.

What's wrong, honey?" She asks.

"Nothing, just dealing with some shit that should be resolved soon," I tell her before going to change out of my suit.

"What's that on your jacket?" She asks, pointing to the red stain on my sleeve.

"Oh, that's paint. I was with Jee and spilled some paint. I didn't notice it was there." I answer and go upstairs to change.

Uber Eats brings the food, and we sit down in front of the TV to watch the news. As we're eating, the broadcaster announces. "We have breaking news. A local man, Thomas Gears, of Greenville, was found murdered and mutilated in Catawaba Park this afternoon. The police currently have no suspects, and the investigation is ongoing."

Kellie dropped her fork and threw up all over the cocktail table and floor. I don't move. I take another bite of my Shrimp Lo Mien. "Are you alright?" I ask her blankly. "Do you know that guy?" I continue. Still eating even though the odor of her vomit envelopes the room.

"What? No, I don't know him. I think the food is bad. Where were you today?" She asked shakily, as she wipes her mouth with a napkin.

"I was out, resolving a problem." I look at her. I see the fear in her eyes. She's wondering if I know about her and Gears. More importantly, she's wondering if I'm the one who killed Gears. "But don't worry. I only have one more issue to resolve." I grin at her; a grin that would make the Joker proud. She gasps and passes out.

I figure now is as good a time as any to take care of my last problem. I realize the voice has stopped.

Ever since I came home early a couple of weeks ago, only to find my loving wife getting railed by Tommy fucking Gears, the sounds of her rutting have haunted me. I stood there listening to her give him everything she had promised me. Acting like she's never acted when we had sex. Saying things she's never said before. Instead of doing something. Instead of being a man, I ran out, like a little bitch.

Her voice has echoed in my head since that day. Taunting me, like an unscratched itch. I couldn't be the man I needed to be until I resolved the issue at hand. I wondered briefly if I could live with the solution. It didn't matter; the voice had stopped.

THE END

P.S. No disrespect to any adult man who goes by Tommy. I know it's common in the UK.