The Sex Surrogate(27)

I looked around, watching people mill out, some still sitting at their desks. Some chatting.

“Aight,” she said, standing, “let's take a walk and you tell me.”

“Actually,” I said, looking at her, “I need to buy a dress. Want to help?”

“Only if I get a dick description.”

“Fine,” I grumbled.

“Girl, I knew it!” she accused, shaking her head at me as she put on her jacket.





A few minutes later, trapped in a store I had never been in before, but Shay had insisted on, I took a deep breath.

“Have you ever heard of a sexual surrogate?”

“Ava,” she said, her tone dead serious, “there ain't nothing about sex I don't know about. What about sex surrogates?”

“Chase is one.”

“Oh,” the breath whooshed out of her mouth.

I turned, so shocked to see Shay speechless that I couldn't help but laugh. “Surprised?”

“No. I mean, yes. But no. That man oozes some sexual confidence. So it makes sense. Ava,” she said, leaning closer and I felt my stomach clench, “why are you seeing a sex surrogate?”

I glanced around quickly. “I can't have sex. I've tried. But I like... have massive panic attacks and completely zone out during the whole thing. I honestly couldn't even tell you what it feels like,” I admitted, and felt like a weight got lifted.

Shay nodded, looking kind and accepting. “I'm glad you're seeing someone then. Sex is way too good to miss out on.” She flipped through a few dresses, scrunching her nose up at all the ones I was silently considering. “Wait,” she said, turning back to me with a hand on her hip. “Why the hell is he showing up at your apartment if he's just a surrogate?”

“I called him,” I admitted.

She gave me a sly smile, shaking her head, moving to a different rack of (much sluttier) dresses. “So why do you need a new dress?”

“I've been with him for five sessions and they like... grow in...”

“Intimacy?” she supplied.

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing. “Tonight is the sixth session.”

“And what is the sixth session?”

“Sex.”

Her head snapped to me, brow raised, mouth opening slightly. She looked like she was struggling to say something for a minute, then thought better of it.

“Well,” she said, pulling out a tight, pure white, tube top dress, “then this is what you need.”

“Really? White?” I asked, laughing. “I'm not a virgin.”

“Aren't you, though?” she asked, turning her head to the side. “I mean... if you've never really experienced it, does it count?”

I shrugged, but I took the dress up toward the service counter.

“Hold up,” Shay said, running up, something white and lacy in her hands. “I got you some pretty panties to go with.

“He said he was going to be ripping those off.”

“Even better,” she smirked. “The dress has the built in cup things so you don't need a bra. You can be fully clothed to fully naked in five seconds.”

I smiled over at her. “You know what, Shay?”

“What?”

“I think you and I are going to be really good friends.”

She smiled, hitting my shoulder with hers. “Dick description. Now.”





I took my time getting ready, making a sort of ritual out of it. To take up time. To soothe my nerves. I took my usual long shower, carefully dried my hair, then pressed it with the straightening iron Shay had left behind. I applied my vanilla lotion to every inch of my body. I put on a small amount of makeup. Brushed my teeth. Then finally, close to my time to leave, I slipped into the lacy white panties and the white dress. Simple. Tight. Short. But perfect.

I decided Shay was going to pick out all my clothes in the future.

I put on white patent leather ballet flats, grabbed my keys and wallet, and walked out of the bathroom, with the biggest knot of tension in my stomach.

“Shit. That'll do it,” Jake nodded.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Whatever you are planning to do,” he said, shrugging.

I nodded, taking a steadying breath. “I'll be late tonight.”

“I bet you will,” he smirked. Then the smile fell and he walked up to me, touching my shoulder briefly. “Everything is gonna be alright, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed numbly.

“Go on,” he said, nudging me toward the door. “You're gonna be late.”





I was right on time. I practically ran from my car to the office door because Shay had threatened to flay me if I showed up covering the dress with a jacket. I stopped outside the door, oblivious to the cold seeping into my skin, taking a few deep breaths, settling my hair back into place, tugging the bodice of the dress up slightly. Then I reached for the knob and went in.

Chase was at his usual place beside the desk, in a black suit and white shirt. His head drifted upward slightly as he tucked a piece of folded paper into his pocket.

“Oh, baby,” he said, his head tilting to the side, watching me.

The heat in his eyes was enough to have the knot inside slowly unraveling. But he just stood there, looking at me, taking me in. And I started to feel squirmy under his gaze.

“I, ah, believe I was promised something that involved being... um... pushed against a wall,” I said, feeling like a bumbling child.

A slow, devilish smile spread across his face. “That you were,” he agreed, closing the space between us. His hand went to the back of my neck, pulling me to him, and his lips pressed hard on mine. Then my back was slamming against the wall, but all I felt was him. His tongue slipped into my mouth at the same time his hand pushed between my thighs, finding my clit through my panties and making me groan into his mouth.

“So wet,” he murmured against my lips.

“Chase...”

But I didn't get to finish my thought because his hands grabbed a hold of my panties and ripped them off of me. Just like he promised. And then he was down on his knees, looking up at me with hungry eyes, his hands inching my skirt up my legs until it clung around my belly.

“Tell me it's for me.”

“Always. It's always for you,” I agreed.

And I had the sinking feeling that it always would be.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, grabbing my leg and bringing it up over his shoulder. Then his tongue was stroking up my cleft, finding my clit and lavishing over it.

My hands went down on the back of his head, holding him against me.

It wasn't long until I felt my orgasm threatening to break, digging my hands into his hair and grounding out his name.

But just when I was sure I was going to come, he pulled quickly away, kissing the triangle above my sex and sitting back on his heels.

“Chase...”

“Don't worry, babe, I am going to make you come tonight. Just not yet. First,” he said, getting up on his feet and taking my hand, “we need to go in the other room.”

So, he made drinks. I searched through music. What music did I want to have sex to? I felt my stomach clench at the idea and tried to think past it. What music did I want Chase to hold me to? That worked better. I settled on a play list of bluesy music and turned to take my martini.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the seating area. I followed behind, curious, finishing my drink quickly and placing it on the end table before sitting down next to him. “I figured maybe tonight we should do some talking first.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, sounding as hesitant as I felt.

“First of all,” he said, setting his drink down on the floor and reaching into his pocket for the paper I had seen him stuff there when I walked in. He unfolded it and handed it to me. “I should have given it to you a while ago, but I kept forgetting.”

I took the paper, looking down at it, finding his name under the title “patient name” and then there was a read out of tests. It was a results of an STD test. All, of course, negative.

“I wanted you to feel completely comfortable with me. We will be using condoms, of course,” he added quickly, “but this was just for your peace of mind.”

“Okay,” I said, folding it back up and putting it on the seat behind me. “Thanks,” I said, looking down at the hands in my lap

“I know you're nervous.”

Nervous didn't even begin to cover it. This was the big deal. This is what I had decided to pay so much money to fix about myself. This was my biggest insecurity.

“Talk to me, babe.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“Say anything. Say that you're nervous. Say why. Just talk.”

“I'm nervous,” I admitted.

“Okay,” he said, his hand landing on my thigh, just resting there, an anchor.

“This is the thing I am most insecure about.”

“What makes you so insecure? That you can't enjoy it? That you're worried about being a disappointment.”

“Both.”

He nodded, reaching for my hands and putting his on top of them. “Ava, nothing you could ever do would disappoint me,” he said, so much sincerity in his tone that I actually believed him. “And I promise you that, no matter what happens, I will show you that you can enjoy it. No matter how long it takes.” He paused, squeezing my hands. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Look at me,” he said, then waited. “Do you believe me?”