The Sex Surrogate

by Gadziala, Jessica

  Which, to her credit, she managed to do.

  Jake showed up on occasion, handing Shay and me drinks. First something pink and fruity. Then something blue and fruity. Then something green and melon-y.

  And I danced.

  Now, to be perfectly honest, I had never been much of a dancer. Okay. I had never been any kind of dancer, period. Except in my room while I was getting dressed. Never in public. Never in a huge crowd of bodies crushing in on me. But the music was throbbing, hard and sexual, vibrating through my feet and upward until I felt it reverberate in every cell in my body. That, mixed with the gloriously swirling feeling in my head... and, well, I was dancing.

  Time got lost. All that mattered was the music and Shay laughing and spinning around with me, and the floating feeling of my soul. Everything felt light and unimportant outside of our little circle.

  Some time later, late enough for me to start to feel my shoes biting into my feet, Jake showed up with another drink. Orange and citrus-y. Then he was dancing with Shay, talking into her ear from behind and she turned her head to answer.

  Two minutes later, I was being pulled out to the cab, and driven back to my apartment. Where, apparently, we were having some kind of after party. Ten people I didn't know, men and women alike, were crowding around, drinking liquor Jake pulled out of the cabinet, dancing to the music Shay had put on.

  I kicked out of my shoes, going to the couch because the world was doing some spinning thing that made me feel like I couldn't stand on my own two feet anymore. I sat there, looking around in a weird sort of detached entertainment for a long time.

  Then I was reaching for my phone.

  And I dialed Chase.

  I got the machine.

  Drunk and undeterred, I listened to his outgoing message and waited for the beep. “I don't care what Dr. Bowler says. It feels real,” I said, my words coming out in a voice that was mine, but wasn't... slower, slightly slurred. “And you can be as mea... stop pawing at me!” I growled to some random guy who sat down next to me and put a hand on my hip. “I'm talking to Chase's machine, leave me alone,” I said to him, thinking my voice sounded super stern, but the guy only laughed. “So, anyway, Chase... I don't care if it's fake, you know? It's okay. I'll deal with that... okay, buddy,” I said, slapping his hand hard enough to make my palm smite despite the alcohol, “get off my couch. Off. Get off. You ruined my message!” I accused, ending the call, unnecessarily angry at the stranger.

  “Come on, baby, you look ripe...”

  “I'm not a piece of fruit,” I objected, then broke off into a fit of giggles.

  He was attractive. Around my age with brown hair and big brown eyes, sharp jaw. He was dressed in a blue button up and jeans. Attractive in a very ex-frat boy kind of way.

  A quiet settled then, me looking around, swatting his hand away when it kept reaching out to touch me. Then, what felt forever later, but couldn't have been more than a ten minutes, I broke the silence.

  “Listen, I know you like my blue dress,” I said, shaking my head. “It's very nice. But it's not mine.” In my drunk logic, that was somehow supposed to deter him.

  “Well then maybe you should take it off,” he suggested.

  “I can't.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I only have a thong on,” I admitted, completely unaware how bad a thing that was to say.

  “That sounds sexy. Why don't you show me?”

  “Why do you keep touching me?” I asked, looking down at his hand on my thigh.

  “Do you like when I touch you?” he asked, his hand snaking upward.

  “I don't even know you.”

  “Makes it even hotter, don't you think?”

  I squinted at him, “I don't think I work that way.”

  “Oh, baby, I can make you work that way.”

  “You're not allowed to call me that,” I objected.

  “Why not?”

  “Because Chase does.”

  “Who the hell is Chase?”

  “I am,” Chase's voice said from in front of me.

  I turned my head and there he was, in a blue suit and white shirt. From my angle, he looked like a giant: strong, intimidating. It didn't help that he was glaring, positively glaring at random frat guy.

  “It's Chase!” I declared, pointing, as if it wasn't obvious. “You're here!”

  “Yeah, baby,” he said, giving me a short glance, then turning back to frat guy. “Get your hands off of her,” he said, his voice low, scary. “Take a look at her. Does she really seem like she is any condition to consent?”

  “She's fine, man. Who the hell are you?”

  “He's Chase,” I supplied, un-helpfully.

  “Get lost,” Chase said, reaching down to grab the front of the guy's shirt and hauling him up.

  “Alright, alright. Fuck. She ain't worth all this trouble.”

  “Hey!” I objected, lowering my eyes at him.

  “So,” Chase said, sighing a little, “did you have fun tonight?”

  “I had a lot to drink,” I said up to him.

  “Seems like it,” he agreed, moving down to take the space the ex-frat boy had vacated. “So where is your friend?”

  “Shay?” I asked, looking at him, his dark scruff, his bright eyes.

  “Yes, Shay.”

  “Oh, look for the most beautiful girl in the room. That's her.”

  “I'm looking at the most beautiful girl in the room,” he countered, reaching out to touch my silky hair.

  “You need to stop saying things like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like it.”

  “Isn't that even more reason that I should say it?” he asked, reaching down for my knees and pulling my legs over his lap.

  “I don't know,” I said, shaking my head like I could clear the fog there. “I feel like no.”

  “Hey,” Shay's voice broke in, glaring at Chase. “She's wasted. Back off.”

  Chase smiled up at her. And I knew her protectiveness had won him over.

  “That's Ava's...” Jake broke in, touching Shay's lower back, “friend,” he decided, looking at us. “It's fine. She's fine,” he said, leading her away.

  “I like Shay.”

  “She's good people,” I murmured, feeling tired. I scooted closer to him, resting my head on his chest.

  “Who is Dr. Bowler, babe?”

  “She's my shrink. My other shrink. She's good people too,” I said, eyes getting heavy. “Even if she's right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “But I think she might be wrong. But maybe not. That's how it works, I guess.”

  “How what works?”

  I shook my head, taking a deep breath. His arm went around my back, keeping me close. I snuggled my face against his shirt. “This is my spot,” I declared, tapping his chest with my hand.

  His other arm went around me, his lips kissing the top of my head. “Yeah, baby, it is,” he agreed.

  “Safest place in the world,” I murmured, drifting slowly off to sleep.

  I woke up to banging noises, having the same effect as bombs in my aching brain. I groaned, opening my eyes to find the apartment painfully bright.

  “Hey there sleeping beauty,” the voice attached to the chest I was laying on said.

  I shot up, disoriented, looking up. “Chase?” I asked, blinking at him.

  “Yeah, baby.”

  And then it all came back. Shay. Getting dressed. The club. Dancing. Music. The alcohol. Oh, the alcohol. Then being back at the apartment. Picking up my phone...

  “Oh, god...” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Please tell me I didn't say anything stupid.”

  “No, babe... you fell asleep almost as soon as I got here.”

  But the message. The phone message. What the hell had I said? Something about Dr. Bowler being wrong. It didn't feel fake. Okay. That wasn't too bad. I could live with that. Blame it
on the booze. Pretend I had no idea what he was talking about if he brought it up.

  “Why did you come?” I asked, looking up at him. I was pretty sure I hadn't invited him. Or even said where I was.

  “I heard you yelling at someone to stop touching you. He didn't seem to get the message. So I just wanted to make sure you were okay. If I had known what a guard dog Shay is, I wouldn't have been so worried.”

  “Hey us gals got to stick together,” Shay called.

  My head snapped up, to find Shay standing in my kitchen, makeup cleaned off, looking fresh and somehow rested, wearing one of my tank tops and a pair of my pajama pants. And what was even more shocking, was that Jake was next to her... helping her... cook.

  “Okay, I think I woke up in some different dimension,” I grumbled. I looked around, expecting to find a mess everywhere, but all was neat. Neater than I had left it even. Someone had actually... cleaned?

  “Jake and I got up early to clean for you. I know you like things neat,” Shay supplied, noticing my inspection.

  “That was really sweet,” I said, meaning it. “Wait... did you say Jake got up early and... cleaned?”

  “Yeah,” she said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

  “Did you have him at gun point?”

  Shay snorted. “Girl, all you need to handle a man like him is a sharp tongue and a withering stare. Boy got sisters. He's trained to obey.”

  “She's not wrong,” Jake agreed.

  “Then how come you never do what I ask?”

  “Because,” Shay answered for him, “you can't ask. You tell.”

  “I'll have to keep that in mind,” I said, getting up slowly, pulling the dress down where it had ridden up high on my thighs. “Alright. I need to go get some less... binding clothes,” I said, taking off to my room. I had just dragged some clothes out of my closet when I heard my bedroom door open and close. “I'll have the dress cleaned for you and bring it to work on Monday,” I said, expecting Shay.

  But then I turned and saw Chase looking gorgeously disheveled in his wrinkly suit. “Hey baby,” he said, leaning up against the closed door.

  “Hey,” I said, feeling uncertain, grabbing my towel and piling it with my clothes.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  And there was the little flip-flop feeling in the belly.

  There was nothing hotter than bossy Chase.

  So I turned around.

  And then I felt his fingers tracing the heart shaped cutout in the back of the dress. I shivered under the sensation.

  “You look so sexy in this dress.”

  Oh.

  My.

  “Thank you.”

  His hands moved up my back to my shoulders, pressing into the muscles, aching from sleeping in such an odd position. I melted back into him, my head rolling to the side. And then his lips were right underneath my ear, kissing a line down the side of my neck and across my shoulder. “Okay, you should stop that,” I groaned.

  “Why? Are you getting wet for me, baby?”

  Fuck yeah, I was.

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” he said, moving upward and biting my earlobe. “I want you thinking about me every minute until Monday night. And every time you think of me, I want you to be wet.”

  So, he said that.

  And it was fucking hot as hell.

  “Think you can do that for me?”

  Not a problem.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. And when you get to my office,” he said, his nose grazing my neck, “you are going to be wearing a dress.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am going to push you up against the wall, rip off your panties, lift your skirt, and lick your clit until you are begging for release.”

  Well, that was certainly a good reason to wear a dress.

  I swallowed hard. “Anything else?”

  “You're not allowed to touch yourself at all until then.”

  So he wanted me to walk around unbearably horny with no relief?

  “Okay.”

  “Good girl,” he murmured, then moved suddenly away from me, making me stumble. “Now go get showered. Shay and Jake are almost done with breakfast.”

  Oh my god.

  He was staying for breakfast? With me? And my friends?

  Oh, lord.

  Jake was bound to say something completely inappropriate. Actually, for that matter, so was Shay. And Chase was going to be there to witness it. I made my way to the shower, nervous at the entire prospect. Would he find them funny? Offensive? Would he try to, like, analyze them?

  At the same turn, would they find him stiff and calculated?

  I scrubbed off my makeup, took a few aspirin, brushed my teeth mercilessly, then hopped in the shower. There was really no reason to be freaking out about how they would get along. What did it really matter? He was my shrink. They were my friends. Soon he wouldn't even be in my life anymore.

  I tried really hard to ignore the pang that came with that thought as I toweled off and got into my jeans and white t-shirt.

  I opened the door to seeing all three of them sitting at the table, laughing.

  And I felt the most ridiculous surge of relief that it was almost embarrassing.

  Chase's head turned, as if sensing me, and smiled, patting the chair next to him.

  Oh, my poor heart.

  He was really going to hurt me.

  And soon.

  Sixth Session

  I knew I was going to be confronted. Shay kept looking at me all day, but we found ourselves unusually busy, having to work through lunch and not getting a moment to even think about gossiping.

  Breakfast had gone well. Too well. Everything was light, funny. Shay told her wild stories, Jake pitched in. We all discussed how we met, all but me and Chase. Jake had expertly turned the conversation right when Shay was about to ask. Thank god for him, because I had no idea how I would handle that. Jake and Shay jumped up to clear the plates and do the dishes and Chase excused himself, touching my hip at the door and whispering, “Monday. Seven. Dress,” before he left.

  And I knew Shay had been dying to ask since the second she saw him show up and cuddle me on the couch.

  I planned to freaking book it out the door the minute the clock struck five. I already had enough on my plate with my session later. I didn't need her stress on top of it too.

  “Not so fast,” she caught me as I rounded her desk, head lowered.

  I could pretend I didn't hear her. Or didn't know she was talking to me. But that seemed petty and childish. “What's up, Shay?”

  “Who was that di-vine man you were all lovey dovey with this weekend?”

  “I was not...”

  “Oh, girl. Who do you think you're talking to? I know a woman who is all tied up when I see one. Who is he?”

  Oh, god.

  Normally, I would sidestep the issue. Or even lie to save face.

  But Shay was quickly becoming a close friend and while I didn't have too much experience with close friendships, I was pretty sure lying wasn't part of the equation to a successful one.

  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 b
reath 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.”