The Substitute

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The Substitute

Tasha glanced in the full length glass mirror as she adjusted her black with silver corset and thigh high stockings. Her sheer black robe hung loosely over her shoulders. Strategically, she contemplated her evening with Bill.

Beef steak and potatoes (Bill’s favourite) – Check!
A bottle of red wine to go with the beef – Check!
Romantic jazz music to be played on repeat for a night of endless fucking (not that music mattered much after a while) – Check!
Sexy lingerie without panties (on her, of course) – Check!
A few drops of Chanel No. 5 applied in the appropriate places (Bill’s favourite, also) – Check!

Now, the only thing – person – missing was Bill.

“He’s going to appear any time now!” Tasha told herself, faking the conviction she didn’t feel. She strode to the living room where she’d set up the dining table. It reminded her of a particularly hot summer’s night a year or two ago, when Bill was so anxious to get into her pants that he’d shoved everything off the dining table. “I’ll pay for damages,” he’d growled, as he pushed her non-too-gently onto the mahogany table. She shivered at the memory of him thrusting in and out of her hot, slick –

Tasha shook head violently. “Stop that,” she admonished herself. Looking around, she sighed noisily. They hadn’t had sex in a month, now. He kept telling her that he was busy. “Busy, busy, busy! Fuck busy,” she snorted in frustration. She had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t as busy as he made himself out to be. She'd called up his office and his fellow workers had noted no change in his usual schedule, so it meant that he wasn’t working overtime. She had to conclude that he was starting to find her boring, after three years of the same old, same old.

She was definitely going to change that perception tonight! The thought of what was to come (no pun intended) that night made her grow wet. Tasha squeezed her thighs together in a bid to appease the throbbing between them. “Tonight,” she promised herself. “You’re going to get fucked tonight.” After all, another month of using her pillow as a substitute didn’t appeal to her too much.

Ten minutes past eight. Bill hadn't arrived yet. She wasn’t overly concerned, though. Bill was never punctual, not even in the early days when he was head over heels in love with her. She put on the soft music, checked the beef and arranged the tablecloth. Anything to keep herself from thinking about Bill.

Thirty minutes past eight. No sign of Bill or his truck. Worry crept up her veins to clutch at her heart. Still, she held off calling his cell-phone. Sometimes, when he was late, she would call his cell-phone to check where he was. He never took those in the positive light. He called her paranoid. Well, she certainly didn't want to screw tonight up by making him think that she was checking up on him! “He might be running late because of a meeting,” she comforted herself. “He’ll be here soon.”

By forty-five past eight, Tasha couldn’t stand it any longer. She dialed Bill’s number, but couldn’t get through. “Perhaps his battery is dead,” she lied to herself. That didn’t get the desired response from her nervous system. Her heart pounded harder than before. The active imagination she prized so highly went into an overdrive.

Nine. “Oh God, oh God, oh God. Please let him not have died!”

One minute past nine. Tasha heard the roar of Bill’s pickup truck. “Oh, thank you, God! Thank you so much!” She raced to get the door, forgetting the state of undress she was in.

“Bill – ” her greeting died in her throat. It wasn’t Bill. It was Jeremy, one of her closest friends. He stared at her, his mouth agape at the spectacle in front of him. He could see the swell of her breast threatening to pour out of her tight corset. Her pubic hair played peek-a-boo from behind her untied, sheer robe. His eyes whipped up again to focus on those breasts, palms curling slightly, as if moulding themselves to the shape of her full globes. He gulped, unable to tear his eyes away from her body.

Tasha followed the direction of his gaze and felt a flush attack her from neck up. She fled immediately to her room, yelling, “Close the door and make yourself at home! I’ll be right out!” Jeremy, who trailed behind her, heard the bedroom door slam. He surveyed the small apartment, eyes eventually landing on the dining table. Sniffing the air, he caught a whiff of… Was it steak? His stomach growled, even though he had just eaten an hour ago. He smiled, remembering being the happy guinea pig swallowing Tash's cooking so many years ago. After so long, her grilled steak only got better with practice.

A visibly chagrined Tasha emerged from her bedroom ten minutes later, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. The thigh-high stockings were easy enough to take off. Except, she’d been distracted, and a tad impatient. It now lay in shambles in her waste basket. She had a tougher time with the black-and-silver corset. Unlacing and unhooking it took a lot more time than she had expected. All right, to be honest, it was Jeremy’s presence in the living room that had her developing butter fingers. She knew that he knew what she was doing in the privacy of the bedroom and it made her feel shy, like a virgin school-girl. “Get over it! You no longer have a stupid crush on him!” she snapped at herself.

Jeremy remained glued onto the couch, his eyes squeezed shut and the sofa pillow firmly pressed over his crotch. He’d spent the past ten minutes or so torturing himself by imagining her peeling her stockings off. He wanted to help her unhook that corset, damn it. He wanted to trace his fingers down her neck, to her erect nipples… He wanted to let that finger slide down even further, down her shapely curves to her… Damn, he was getting hard again. He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of heat washing over him.

Tasha balanced on the balls of her heels beside him. Silence reigned for the longest period until she blurted out, “Uh, so, what brings you here?”

Jeremy startled, his private battle with his nether regions temporarily forgotten. The reason he was here! It simply flew out of his mind the moment he saw Tasha in her sexy robe – no, don’t even go there, Jeremy, he warned himself.

“Sit down, Tasha. I need you to be prepared for this,” he motioned to the space beside him.

She perched on the corner of the sofa and gulped. Bad news, she knew it had to be bad news. “Oh God, let Bill not have died!”

Jeremy jumped. “Wha-at? No! No, no, no, no, no! Nothing of that sort. In fact, I just had dinner with him, and he handed me the keys to the pickup. No, he’s not dead.” He watched as she visibly sagged in relief, and felt like an eel for having to deliver the next news.

“So?” She looked up, her amber-brown eyes swept across his face searching, eager for any hints of the bad news he was about to break to her. Then, it crossed her mind.

“He wants to break up with me, doesn’t he?” she whispered. Jeremy opened his mouth, but closed it without uttering a single sound. “That coward. That ball-less son-of-a-bitch!” She let loose a string of expletives for the next five minutes, ranting about how spineless Bill was, that he couldn’t even tell her himself of his intentions to break up with her. Jeremy sat through the tirade, wincing just a little as she detailed explicitly how she would like to torture her now ex-boyfriend once she got her hands on him. “and throw his balls out to feed the pigeons!” she ended on a hiccup-sob. Jeremy couldn't find it in him to tell her that pigeons didn't eat balls.

He didn't have a single clue as to what to do with the distraught woman crying her eyes out in front of him. “Aha! A glass of wine!” His desperate scan landed on the expensive-looking red wine bottle. That ought to do the trick of calming her down! Jeremy brought over two glasses – heck, he deserved one too! – from the kitchen, found a corkscrew and snagged the bottle of wine off the table. “Here,” he poured out a glass for her. “Have some. Maybe it will help.”

Tasha by now had quietened down enough to accept the glass of wine. She downed it in one shot. Jeremy frowned. Maybe offering her alcohol was a bad idea. He recalled how he had to carry her back on prom night after she'd had just a few drinks.

“No, not red wine. Vodka.” She marched to the liquor cabinet and retrieved a bottle of Polish vodka Bill had gotten for her when he was on a business trip in Poland.

By the third shot of vodka, Jeremy couldn't stand it. “Enough,” he stalled her hand as she reached out to pour her fourth shot. “Stop drinking. You have had enough.” Her eyes turned in his general direction but she wasn't focusing exactly on him.

“We haven't have sex in a month,” she admitted hoarsely. “God damn it! I wish he'd come here, screwed me, then broke up. At least, I'd be much less horny.” She rubbed a tired hand over her eyes. His heart shattered at her wretched expression. Ever since they were in middle school, he'd always been her protector. Now, he wanted nothing more than to hug her and make everything bad go away.

“Aw, hell,” he scooted over and held open his arms. “C'mere, Tash.” Tasha readily sunk into his embrace, just like old times. They sat in that position on the mauve sofa; he with his arms protectively and securely around her shoulders, she with her head rested against his chest, arms around his waist, listening to the comforting, rhythmic thumping of his heart.

Tasha breathed in, her senses assaulted by his unmistakably male scent. She glanced up beseechingly and offered her lips to the man holding her. “Kiss me,” she begged. “What are you thinking?!” her mind screamed. She had to stop, she knew that. He'd rebuffed her overtures once. She didn't need a second time. Still, her body refused to.

Jeremy didn't move for what seemed like eternity. Tasha stiffened. Rejection. Again. This time less blatant than the first, but still, it was unequivocal rejection. Blinking rapidly, she tried to explain the plead away, “Sorry, for a while I thought you were Bill.”

“Will you miss him?” Jeremy's voice was gruff. She couldn't identify the emotion underlining his tone, though.

“I...” Tasha hesitated. She couldn't deny it anymore. She knew that the reason she'd accepted Bill was because of Jeremy's rejection. She'd turned, blindly, to the first available and willing man around. So, no, she wasn't going to miss Bill, not much anyway. Except for maybe the fantastic sex they used to have.

Jeremy took her silence to mean the affirmative. “What do you say, to having sex with me? You can pretend that I'm Bill. Take me as a...” he groped for the word, “substitute?”

She gawked at him, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “You... you mean it?”

“Absolutely.” To make sure it sunk in, Jeremy lowered his head. He probed her lips with his soft, supple tongue. She gave a groan and opened for him, her mouth moist, warm and welcoming. He flicked his tongue across her front teeth, and she parted it for him. His tongue pushed all the way in, meeting her tongue in a mating dance.

“Touch me,” she urged. “Touch me all over…” His right hand carefully glided down her front and she gasped. She’d neglected to put on a bra because she'd thought that Jeremy would be gone before long. Her nipples pressed against the cloth, demanding attention. He liked hearing her gasp, Jeremy decided, as his thumb stretched to stroke her left nipple. “Oh God, it feels so good. It feels so good…” She was practically writhing in the sofa. “It’s been so long. Touch me! Touch me everywhere!”

He smirked. So, he hadn't lost his touch. She sat up suddenly, took the hem of her t-shirt and drew it above her head, throwing the bothersome cloth aside. Jeremy couldn’t take his eyes off her chest. He reached out and palmed her left breast. It fit his hand just right. He started flicking his thumb back and forth her nipples, eliciting moans from her with every stroke.

Tasha’s hands started undoing his belt. His shaft was getting hard; she could see that. It definitely cried out for some tender loving care. Her fingers finally found the zipper. She fumbled a little as he distracted her with the nipple-play. Crying out in frustration, she pushed him down onto the sofa and pulled away. “What?” Jeremy couldn’t understand. One moment she was trying to get his engorged member out of its jeans confinement, the next moment she was pushing him away. What sort of game was she playing?

“You need to get naked,” she muttered. With one leg on either side of his body, she began pulling the jeans down his taut, muscular legs.

“Honey, if you wanted me to get naked, all you had to do was to ask,” he grinned wolfishly. Quickly, he stood up and divested himself of all his clothes. “You need to get naked too,” he knelt beside her, fingering the top of her shorts as she stretched out wantonly on the three-seater. She bit her lips a little uncertainly, but he went ahead. After all, she was the one who wanted him to get naked. Well, sex required two people to get naked!

The shorts slid down her tanned thighs and calves, revealing a pair of black silk panties. “Ooh, hot, Tash,” Jeremy breathed. She trembled as he blew at her panties. He moved back up to her breasts, mouth attaching itself onto her right breast, sucking it lightly. Occasionally, he rimmed her nipple with his tongue, causing her body to arch in total ecstasy. While her entire attention honed in on the nipple, his fingers travelled down south, until it hit her flower bud through the smooth cloth.

“Oh!” Tasha gasped. “You... You're gonna pay!”

He didn't bother replying. His thumb massaged her deliberately as his mouth switched breasts. She was definitely aroused, the heat emanating from her nether regions was unmistakable.

Her hands reached out and grabbed at his silky-hard member. A moan escaped his lips and she threw him a smug, triumphant look. She wasn't going to be the only one affected by this foreplay. Although from her angle, she was unable to see the length of his shaft, she could absolutely feel it growing larger and more engorged.

“Touch me...” She thrashed about on the sofa as he punished her with a more vigorous massage of her nub. He acquiesced to her request. Pulling the silk cloth aside, he inserted a finger into her moist entrance, leaving his thumb still on her sensitive nub. Jeremy watched intently as her hold on his shaft slackened and her head swiveled from side to side. His finger gave her a taste of what his shaft would do later on. Listening to her moans gradually increasing in decibels, his erection grew harder, too.

He continued this for sometime, sometimes bringing her close to a climax, but always refraining from pushing her overboard. His mouth was kept busy serving her two demanding breasts. Then, abruptly, he withdrew. She cried out, mourning the loss of his fingers doing wondrous magic to her wet cavern. Then she realised what was happening. He was ready to take it to the next level. Jeremy tugged at her panties and whisked them away. Gently, he pulled her down to the floor and made her kneel in front of the sofa, with her back towards him. “You're ready,” he whispered. It wasn't a question even. It was just a factual statement.

She buried her face into her arms and lifted her round, smooth derrière towards him. She didn't need to watch her utter abandonment and surrender to her best friend.

He could see a tiny, shiny dew drop decorating the tip of his member. “Ah, Tash, Tash...” He positioned the head outside her entrance. With one smooth stroke, he sheathed himself in her hot, wet haven. She drew in a sharp breath as he filled her more fully than Bill, or anyone, had ever done before.

“Tash, you're so tight!” he muttered into her ear.

“Fuck me,” she breathed. “Just fuck me.” His right hand moved to the front of her, caressing the triangular thatch of curls. Slowly, the fingers worked their way down to her nub again. The combination of her chamber being filled with his shaft and his fingers teasing her nub was enough to drive her crazy. He could feel her muscles clenching and unclenching around his blood-filled member. He thrust deeper, and harder, the impact of his collision with her body pushing the sofa forward with every thrust. She responded by pushing back too, bring the two bodies closer than ever.

Every once in a while, they stopped, to savour a prolonged unity. Eventually, they couldn't put off their climax any longer. Tasha was first to reach the peak. Her whole body shuddered as seismic waves originating from her core spread throughout her. Throughout the orgasm, Jeremy continued massaging her bud, causing another long body spasm. As her womanly muscles tightened around his hard member, Jeremy, too, erupted, spilling high into her chalice.

In the aftermath, both were exhausted. Only pants and grunts from both participants filled the living room. Despite climaxing, Jeremy's shaft was still buried in Tasha's soft folds.

“Thank you, Jeremy. That was fantastic,” Tasha finally recovered enough to make small, bedside talks.

He kissed her temple. “No problem, kiddo. I'm glad to substitute.”

Tasha froze. Pushing against him, she dislodged him from his comfortable spot inside her. She turned to face him, her face a picture of hurt.

“I made love to you, Jeremy. You. Not a Bill-substitute! Not once did I mistaken you for Bill!” she raged at him.

He could only blink at her. His befuddled mind was still recovering from the intense experience.

“I love you.” The confession slipped out before she could stop it. From the stricken look on Jeremy's face, she knew it wasn't something he wanted to hear. Well, too bad. She'd already said it. And it was his fault for seducing her. He was the one who'd kissed her first. Gathering all the courage she had in the world, she plodded on. “I love you, and only you. Do you think it was a coincidence that Bill asked you to come here tonight? He doesn't even talk to you much, you know! It's a hidden message from him. He's telling me that the reason he broke up with me, is because of you. He knows that I love you more than I would ever love him. I've always been in love with you, Jeremy. Ever since middle school. Even after you rejected me three years ago. I still love you.” His expression still hadn't changed. But, she had to tell him the truth. He deserved to hear that, at the very least. “I went out with Bill only because you rejected me. Bill's the real substitute.”

Jeremy shook his head, trying to clear the clouds in his brain. “Tash, honey,” he reached out and enveloped her in his arms. “What are you talking about? I didn't reject you. That was a misunderstanding. I think.”

“Really?” She stared at him in confusion, but hope spurted deep within her heart. “You dumped cold water on me when I initiated the kiss! How can it not be a rejection?” she demanded.

He started laughing. “I didn't deliberately pour water on you. Remember, I was making coffee in the kitchen that day?” She nodded, uncertain where this was going. “Well, there was no hot water. I was just going to boil water, when you surprised me. I – uh – lost control.” She shook her head, indicating that she still didn't get it. He took a deep breath. “I was going to pull you closer to me, but... I forgot I was holding the coffee pot.” He gave a sheepish grin.

She couldn't believe her ears. “So, it wasn't a rejection? It was just a misunderstanding?”

“Yep. I was going to tell you, but you'd run out of my apartment. I assumed that you'd regretted doing what you did. Did you? Regret that is?” He looked towards her for confirmation.

“No, I ran away because I was embarrassed! I thought – I thought you'd rejected me.” She shook her head wonderingly.

“Then, the next time we met, I wanted to bring it up, but then by that time, you already had Bill.” He clutched her to him, remembering how sickened he'd felt when she had turned up with Bill.

“Oh, no, Jeremy. We've lost so much time together!” She shook her head despairingly.

He tipped her chin up towards him. “Listen to me, Tash. I love you too,” he declared strongly. “I wanted you even before that day at prom, where I hit Tommy for taking advantage of you.” He breathed deeply. “Will you be my girlfriend?” Although his voice held no tremor, his eyes conveyed anxiety as he waited, with every muscle tensed, for her answer.

“Yes,” she lifted herself and planted a kiss on his lips. “I'm yours, Jems,” she used her old nickname for him. “We've both wasted enough time.” Tasha traced his upper lip with her tongue and his torso quivered as a sexual charge ran down his spine.

She pushed him down onto the carpet. “Let me be in charge this time around.” He groaned and gathered her in his arms as they prepared to make love for the second, but definitely not the last, time.

-The End-

[Word Count: 3739 Words]