Substitute Boyfriend

by Jade C. Jamison

  His eyes were closed, his head bent slightly as he focused on what my hands were doing. I loved that I had such complete control over him right now. It was a turn on, actually, and I never would have thought that before. I’d never paid much attention to what I could do for a guy, even though I knew I could make them feel good and enjoyed doing it. I kept up the pressure and intensity and I didn’t increase the speed until his breathing got heavier. Then I kissed his neck underneath his jaw. I didn’t want to have to try getting up on my tiptoes and losing my balance in the water, so I let my kiss drift lower to his chest and ran my tongue along his skin. I didn’t know if that was helping at all. But I had to know. Was he close…or was I going to have to do more?

  “How’s that feel, baby?”

  He let a sound out of his mouth then, and I felt the warmth of his load rush out against my skin even through the cool water—not just once but several times, and he let out a groan with the last one, more than I’d ever heard from him before.

  Hmm. Maybe I was getting pretty good at this sex stuff. And to think I’d once thought I could only write about it.

  Chapter Ten

  HA. I’D DONE well. At that point, I figured I could just relax against the wall of the pool as I’d planned. Roman was sated and could go lie on a chaise lounge or we could even just sleep in his apartment. I was cool enough now, down to the core, so I felt like I’d be able to snooze.

  He held me close, though, and I imagined I could feel the warmth of his body up against mine. His breathing was heavy in my ear, and I knew he was coming down off the climax he’d experienced. “Feeling pretty good?” I asked.

  “Mmm. More than. Jesus, woman, I wanted to get a little down and dirty but I didn’t expect that.”

  I grinned. “Glad I was able to surprise you.”

  “Your turn.”

  “No. I am not having sex out here.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Beth. No one’s watching. I promise.”

  “It’s the idea, Roman. I’m not comfortable with it.”

  “I don’t believe you. What you’ve told me you’ve done for your books? I call bullshit.” He snuggled up closer to me and, as he kissed my neck, slid one of his hands into my tiny bikini bottom. I tried to tune him out, hoping if he saw that his touch wasn’t doing anything for me right now, he’d leave me alone. But that finger found my clit and I hadn’t known I was ready for him until he touched me. It must have been getting him off had turned me on more than I knew, because his finger slid up and down just a few times in my slit and I no longer cared where we were.

  Except part of my brain did. So when he asked, “Now what do you think?” I pulled away and said, “Maybe later.” I couldn’t run out of the pool because the water kept me from that, but I walked as quickly as I could toward the concrete steps leading out of the shallow end.

  “Beth, what the hell?”

  “Not now, Roman.”

  When I got out of the pool, though, he was right behind me, and he pulled my back toward him. His lips were on the nape of my neck, his hands splayed over my belly, feeling possessive and strong. Oh, yeah, I did want him. I wanted him badly, but I didn’t want to fuck out here. Maybe it was the big windows—even though spots were covered with vegetation, by and large, I felt like an animal at the zoo, and tourists could come observe me in my pretend habitat.

  He kept kissing my neck in that way he did, though, and before I knew it, I was feeling too warm to care again. He slid his left hand up and squeezed my breast. I was sure he could feel how it had pebbled, even through the thick fabric of the bikini. I let out a breath but then opened my eyes, straining to see through the glass out into the courtyard. Roman was right. There was no one out there looking toward the pool house, because no one was supposed to be in here at night. There was no reason for anyone to look.

  I turned around and wrapped a hand around his neck while placing the other hand on his chest, kissing him hard. Both of his hands were on my ass then, one cupping a cheek while the other fingered the hem, threatening to dip underneath the fabric. I shuddered at how hot his hand felt against my cooled flesh. That was what I’d wanted, though, relief from the heat, and the pool had done that. Roman threatened to heat me up again, and the hot air surrounding us made my skin feel perfect.

  He urged me to lie down against the cool stone floor and I obeyed, ready for his touch. I only wanted him to be quick, because I was afraid of being caught. He untied the string on the top and kissed first one nipple, his tongue circling and teasing it, and then the other, sucking on it until it was hard. My nether regions, meanwhile, were aching to feel him there. My legs, bent at the knees, were spread to accommodate his body, and he moved his hand below, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of my bikini bottom. Two fingers drove down my slit until they once more found my swollen nub. The whole area was damp from the pool, but I knew he’d be able to feel the slickness he’d created from raising my temperature. I let out a moan, eager for more, and realized I was grinding against his hand.

  There was more, though, something I wasn’t about to admit, at least not there. I found myself even more aroused that someone might catch us, discover Roman bringing me to pleasure with his fingers. Why did I find that such a turn on?

  And would I have the guts to write about it later?

  I moaned again, already on the verge of a killer orgasm.

  My thighs began to quiver as he nibbled at my neck just below my ear. My breathing grew deeper as I felt the build toward the crescendo, and when it hit, I couldn’t stop myself. I was loud, unable to stop the sounds pouring out of my mouth, and for those brief seconds while I was experiencing nirvana, my worries of discovery were nonexistent.

  I was grew anxious again as I started coming off that cloud, but Roman wouldn’t hear anything of it. His kissed me lightly on the lips and retied my bikini—the top and the bottom—and then managed to talk me into spending a little time in the hot tub.

  * * *

  Classes ground down into the days of finals in late July. Unlike the fall and spring semester, final exams during the summer did not last an entire week. Instead, they encompassed a couple of specified days. By Friday, I was exhausted but grateful that grades weren’t due until late Monday.

  Roman met me in the hallway on campus late Friday afternoon. “Let’s do something tonight.”

  I laughed. “I have no business doing anything other than grading final essays until they’re done.”

  He got closer to me and dropped his voice. We hadn’t said anything to anyone on campus about our relationship…but I wasn’t even sure that was what we’d call it. But that explained why he kept his voice quiet and also why he didn’t touch me. “Once you unwind, the grading will go quickly. You need a little downtime. Trust me on this.”

  I smiled. I knew he was right. Besides, even if I had locked myself inside my apartment with no intent of leaving before I completed my tasks, I would have found other distractions…like writing, for example. “Okay, so what do you have in mind?”

  “Night club.”

  “Night club? You mean the one here in Winchester?” I’d never been there. I preferred small bars to dance clubs. I wasn’t much of a dancer anyway.

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t even know what to wear.”

  His eyes lit up. “You could wear something like that red dress you wore the night you came to my place when we first got together.”

  We had gotten together, hadn’t we? Even though Roman continued to feel like a friend, my mind was starting to think maybe he could be something more—if I’d just let go of the notion that we had to stay just friends. Maybe he was reading my mind, because he touched my cheek. And I let him. In public. “Okay,” I agreed, because I wanted to make him happy.

  When I got to my apartment, though, I realized the pickings were slim. I just didn’t have many sexy clothes, because I’d been playing the college instructor for so long…and the music fan. I had a few items of clothin
g that might qualify as sexy and my blue bikini was one of them.

  Rifling through closets and drawers, though, I came up with a possibility. I found that I wanted Roman to like my choices. I wanted to turn him on. I wanted to look appealing to him. No one else mattered to me.

  I found a snug black miniskirt that hugged my ass and a silver blouse with super short sleeves and a plunging neckline that accentuated what cleavage I had. There was lots of skin for Roman’s eyes to see. I threw on a pair of tall black heels and proclaimed it good.

  Well, good enough. I knew I’d be able to write the hell out of it later.

  When Roman arrived at my place to pick me up, he said, “Damn. We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.” He really liked the blouse and pulled me into a tight embrace.

  “This was your idea, pal. We’re going.”

  When we got to the nightclub, we had a quick drink. They were crazy expensive, though, and on a teacher’s salary, it was way too much to pay. We didn’t really need to drink, anyway. Then we hit the dance floor, and I felt awkward. I stood there for a few seconds, feeling the heavy beat rolling through the club. I had to admit that, even though this wasn’t my usual cup of tea music-wise, it was infectious. It made me want to move, but I knew I was an oaf when it came to physical flexibility and grace. I was afraid of making an ass out of myself.

  When I opened my eyes, Roman said, “What the hell, woman? We paid a huge cover charge and you’re just gonna stand there?”

  I grinned. Leave it to my friend to be overly honest. “Yes, I think so. I can’t dance, Roman.”

  “Can’t dance, my ass. It’s easy.” He grabbed me and started making me move with him. At first, I thought maybe I should have decided to have a couple more drinks to loosen me up and make it easier. I wouldn’t worry so much about looking stupid if I was inebriated. Roman was trying to show me how to have a good time without it, though, and I could appreciate that. I was giggling with the way he was making me move. Finally, he let go of me and said, “Your turn. Do it by yourself.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  He gave me a look and started dancing again. Only this time he wasn’t just having fun. He was being kind of sexy. As I said, I wasn’t much into dancing, and it surprised the hell out of me that Roman was. Sure, I knew he was on the athletic side, so his physical agility didn’t surprise me, but the fact that he liked it did. After all, we both liked the same music. Where the hell had this come from?

  That thought didn’t linger, though, as I watched him move his body around me. He got close a couple of times but kept some distance. At last, though, he pulled me into his body, but in semi-spoon fashion. My back was up against his front, and he wrapped his arms around me, his hands joining at my waist. He swayed with me back and forth to the rhythm of the music and then he brought his lips to my ear. “I don’t think you’re having an open mind about this.”

  Yes, clearly I hadn’t up to that point. His lips on my neck convinced me of that. Okay, so this could be sexy…and fun. I opened my eyes again and looked around the club. Everyone else was having their own good time. None of them were watching what anyone else was doing, so we were all free to make complete fools of ourselves without worry. Roman was past the point of encouraging me to dance, though. It wasn’t but a few seconds later that I realized one of his hands was inside my loose top, finding my breast. I gasped and started to resist but he said in my ear, “No one can tell what I’m doing.”

  I looked around our area of the club again. He was right. Besides the fact that no one else was interested in us, it was mostly dark. Sure, there were flashing lights all around, but the lights just accentuated the shadows. People would have to be staring at us intently to see what we were doing.

  “Relax,” he said as my breast responded to his touch, the nipple growing rigid at the attention his fingers were giving it. One of my hands rested on his idle one, but the other one I reached behind me to shove into his hair. He nipped at my earlobe then, sending shivers of desire throughout my body. Oh, God, this was dangerous…but hot.

  We stopped swaying and began grinding. I figured if he was going to infuse me with lust, I was going to do the same to him, and that was the fastest, easiest way I could think of. I was only able to rub my ass on his crotch area because of the high heels. Otherwise, I would have missed the mark.

  I did too good a job, though, because it made him decide to step up the action. He’d had one hand that had just been holding me tight at the waist and he moved it to the top of my skirt and wiggled underneath the elastic, driving his fingers down underneath my panties.

  I was hot, gasping, desperate, and even though the idea of doing it in public was a little exciting, the rest of me was freaking out. I was a college instructor, for fuck’s sake, and he was too, and I knew if we were spotted by anyone we knew, that would be it. Game over. Hell, the way the laws were, I’d be surprised if we wouldn’t have sexual offender charges on our records when all was said and done. All these horrible thoughts were racing through my mind and made my desire ice up.

  I turned around in his arms and he had to unwind from my clothes. Needless to say, I couldn’t do it quickly. He looked at me, his eyes on fire but wondering why I had turned around. “Not here,” I said, hoping he could hear me over the music.

  “No one can see us, Beth.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I can’t.”

  He wasn’t upset. Disappointed, maybe, but he’d get over it. He took one of my hands in his. “Follow me.” Like I had a choice.

  He pulled me through the jostling, sweaty crowd, and I wondered how many other couples were getting truly down and dirty like we had been. We got closer to the entrance, but he wasn’t going that way. He took a turn, and it was after a little bit that I realized we were heading toward the restrooms. “Wait here.”

  Roman left me in the restroom hallway and walked to the men’s room entrance, peeking in. Then he came back and grabbed my hand, leading me there. I resisted. “Hell, no. I’m not doing it in a filthy bathroom.”

  “Would you just trust me?” He pulled me inside. There was one guy at one of the sinks, checking himself out. He glanced at us but didn’t say a word. Roman led me to the handicapped stall and shut the door behind us, sliding the latch.

  “Seriously?”

  “Listen…it’s clean in this stall. Why? Because a lot of disabled people don’t dance. And guys don’t take a dump at a nightclub. They take a piss and they do it in one of the urinals. It’s not like we’re gonna do it on the toilet anyway.” I was standing there with my arms crossed. I couldn’t believe he was considering it. He moved his hand to my waist again and pulled me close, touching his lips to mine.

  “Roman…why don’t we move to the car instead? At least there won’t be anyone walking in and out.” And, as if on cue, I heard the swell of techno music as someone opened the outside door.

  He started kissing my neck, though, making me reconsider. “Sure you want to wait that long?” His voice was barely a whisper, and I was lucky I could hear him over the noise of the club. “I want to dance with you like we were on the floor.” We could still hear the music, though it was softer, and the idea appealed to me because I still felt as hot as the desert.

  The door to the hallway opened yet again, and I didn’t know if someone was going in or out, and I was beginning to not care, because Roman had me wound up. “Turn around,” he urged, and I didn’t want to resist. I turned and he pulled me up against his body like he’d been holding me on the dance floor. This time, though, I could feel his swollen cock through his jeans, and that made me feel weak. I no longer gave a shit if I was in the men’s bathroom of a nightclub and I definitely didn’t care that people—men—were traipsing in and out. They wouldn’t be able to hear us any better than we could hear them. The music was a physical presence in the club, and I could feel the rhythm in my chest. It added to my frenzied feeling.

  His lips were on my neck again, and this time I would let hi
s fingers have their way with me. One hand moved up my shirt and brushed against my stiff nipple while the other one slid underneath my skirt, then my panties. I gasped, eager and on the edge already. He must have sensed it, though, because his fingers only brushed over my slit, teasing. He removed his hand from my skirt then. His other hand still played with my nipple and his lips continued working on my neck, but the hand he removed was working on the zipper on his jeans, and I knew it wouldn’t be long. After a few moments, though, he needed both his hands, so I turned around. He was working a condom over his shaft and I kissed him. No, that didn’t help at all, and he said, “Patience, woman. Turn back around.” I raised my eyebrows. I thought he was being playful, but he looked pissed…and I was surprised that it didn’t bother me. Instead, it made me all the more excited, and I considered being defiant just to see what he would do.

  I was desperate, though, so I faced the stall door again, and then I felt his hand reach up underneath my skirt once more, this time at the back, and he yanked my panties down hard. I felt them fall down my legs, past my knees, to the floor. For some strange reason, all I could think of was that I wouldn’t want to wear them again after they’d touched that floor. “Spread ‘em,” he growled, and I did, without hesitation. I could feel the eager wetness at the top of my thighs and I knew he’d have no problems sliding in.

  He did glide right in and I moaned, enjoying the feel of his cock from that angle. His hands began working me over again, one under my blouse, pinching one of my nipples, while the other played with my clit. He was pounding into me hard, so I pressed my hands against the cool door to keep my balance. But, oh, God, did he feel incredible. I cried aloud again as he drove into me once more. I don’t know that I noticed it on a conscious level, but he was driving to the beat of the music. It was primal, and my body was responding. I was gulping deep breaths also in tune with some ancient rhythm, willing my mind to the other side, to that temporary state of madness and bliss. Feeling more in tune and in control, I let my right hand drift over my shoulder and I slid it into his hair. Another drive and I moaned again, grabbing onto those locks as though they were the only thing keeping me grounded.