The Sex Surrogate(9)

By: Jessica Gadziala



“Yeah, maybe,” he smiled, boyish, charming, “but I would have felt bad about it after.”

“You're a prince,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“So, how did it go?” he asked, putting his hands at the edge of the counter behind him, completely comfortable with his half-nakedness. He always had been. For which, I couldn't blame him. He looked like he was sculpted out of clay.

“Are we really going to talk about this?” I asked, shaking my head at the cereal bowl he was totally going to let sit there on the counter to fester.

“Only if you don't want me constantly pestering you about it.”

“Fine,” I said, turning to strain the milk down the drain and drop the globs of cereal into the garbage. “It was weird. Uncomfortable.”

“Well, I mean... you're going to be fucking the dude. So... yeah.” He stayed silent as I washed the bowl and spoon, placing them in the drying rack. “Was he halfway decent looking? Please don't tell me you're fucking a gross fat old guy.”

“He's probably the best looking guy I've ever seen,” I admitted.

“Hey,” Jake objected, eyes squinted at me.

“Aside from you,” I laughed.

“That's better,” he smiled, and I could see why so many women blindly followed him home. “So, he got your panties all wet, huh?”

“What? No!” I screeched, too loud, too fast. A blush crept up into my cheeks and Jake threw his head back and laughed.

“You're cute when you're all turned on by your new sex doctor.”

“Oh, my god. Shut up,” I said, brushing past him.

His arm swung out, grabbing my bicep and holding me in place until I looked at him. “I'm just playing,” he said, shrugging. “I'm glad you're getting help. And if you need to talk about the sex stuff, well,” he said, smiling his devilish smile again, “I am an expert too.”

I laughed. “Oh, yeah? What credentials do you have?”

“Baby, I graduated at the top of my class in Pussyology at Fucking U.”

I giggled, shaking my head. “You're such a tool.”

“For serious though,” he said, letting my arm go, “if you have any questions or want to talk about it... I know you don't have anyone else to talk to.”

“I don't need a sympathy ear,” I said, spine straightening.

“It's not sympathy. It's interest. Hell, maybe I should get a job working as a sexual surrogate...”

“It's good money,” I said, starting toward my room.

“How much money?” he asked, pushing my door open as I went to my closet.

“Three grand for ten, well, technically eleven, sessions.”

“You're paying this fucker three K to teach you how to have sex?”

“Not exactly,” I grumbled, reaching for a pair of huge, baggy sweatpants and a big t-shirt.

“Ava, I'll fuck ya for half that,” he laughed.

“That's charming,” I snorted, grabbing my towel off the back of my door.

“I have references,” he said, following me to the bathroom.

“I've met all your so-called references,” I laughed over my shoulder at him, putting my clothes on top of the closed hamper.

“Yeah, so you know,” he laughed. I went to push the door closed, but he grabbed it with his hand and held it open. “Seriously though, if you can't go through it with him, I am here if you need someone you know and trust to... experiment with.”

“Who says I trust you?” I smirked, cocking an eyebrow, trying to push the door shut.

“Ouch,” he said, still smiling. “Just... keep it in mind,” he said, suddenly letting go of the door and send me falling into it as it slammed closed.

Okay.

Weird day.

I stripped out of my clothes, running the water on hot, and stepping in. I had already showered, but sometimes I just needed the water to calm down, clear my head, get my thoughts in the right order, have imaginary conversations for hypothetical situations that will probably never take place. You know, normal stuff.

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