The Reawakening of Dr. Clark Ch. 04byThe_Maestro_Braddock©
Mallory waited only a few days before making her next move.
While getting dressed to head to the gym, Doctor Greg Clark heard the doorbell ring. Already downstairs, his wife Gina opened the door. He heard light chatter in the foyer but, at first, could not make out who had stopped by. Figuring it was just a random neighbor, he made his way down the stairs to do the polite thing and say hello.
However, as he grew closer he realized Mallory had stopped by for an unscheduled visit.
"...really, this is what we wear," Mallory was explained to Gina, chuckling a little.
Greg's wife responded, "That may be, but I still think it is inappropriate for kickball."
"Oh, don't worry about it so much," Mallory reassured, "All the girls wear it and it's just a fun little joke. The guys wear a silly outfit too."
"If you say so," Gina said, shrugging her shoulders in resignation, "In the future though, maybe you could not wear it when you come by? I'd prefer to Shelly not be exposed to...sexualization so early."
"It's not sexualiz—"
Gina interrupted, done with Mallory's justifications, "Maybe not to you, Mallory, but I guarantee it is for a lot of people out there."
Greg stood on the bottom of the stairs, riveted in place. He needed to decide whether he was going to go out there where his wife was admonishing their babysitter for dressing too provocatively, a girl he had came all over only a few days before, or hide himself away back upstairs in his office. His feet felt encased in concrete, his mind wrapped in gauze. His mouth went bone dry.
Then, Gina shouted to him from the front door, "Greg, Mallory's here. I'm taking the kids to my folks like I said. We'll see you later. Mallory's just going to use our shower and then take off. Okay?"
"That—that's fine," Greg managed to stutter.
Then he heard his children's voices and giggle rise, fade, and disappear behind a closing door. Once more, he was alone again in the house with Mallory.
She giggled in the foyer, doing a little dance. She waited for Greg to come down on his own, unaware how close he already was. After a few moments without him stepping forward, she shouted to him, "Oh Doc! Come down here and see my outfit. I think you'll find it really...cute."
She wandered towards the stairwell and caught Greg standing there, making his choice of whether to present himself or run and hide a moot point. Again, he found himself just feet away from Mallory in a big empty house with his wife away for several hours. She casually leaned opposite him, with one leg bent, foot resting against the wall. Her other leg was extended out in front of her, extenuating the length and tone of it. The perfect tan of her legs stood in marked relief to the bright white tennis shoes she wore. She appeared sockless, or, at least, wearing socks so small they could not be seen above the sneaker.
Her golden hair was done up in pigtails. She wore a bright blue half shirt with the word "Kickball" and the number 15 emblazoned across her chest. Her midsection was tan and taut and his eyes devoured it despite himself. Twinkling at him from her navel was that same flower belly ring. He couldn't help but see it, in his mind's eye, drowned in his cum. He was instantly aroused.
Continuing downward, he noticed she was wearing very, very short athletic shorts, easily the shortest of that kind of short he had ever seen. She had, through painstaking effort no doubt, taken already short shorts and made them even tinier by twisting the waistband down and over itself twice. In their present form, they tantalizingly promised a glimpse of the lower half of her beautiful ass without ever delivering.
After a moment of letting him take her in, she sprang forward, bouncing towards him, giggling.
"So what do you think?" she asked, head cocked to the side as if she didn't already know.
"Wow!" he exhaled.
She smiled at his reaction, and twirled around so he could take it all in. "So, I take it you approve then?"
He stared a moment before responding, "Well... yes. Yes, definitely."
"I thought you might," she said, ending her rotation and looking up at him with big eyes. She bit her lip and fiddled her hands behind her back shyly.
"But I heard that all the girls wear this outfit for kickball?" Greg teased.
Mallory smirked and held her hand up, drawing her thumb and first finger very close together, "I might have told the Mrs. a little, tiny, tiny fib."
"I see," Greg murmured, sitting at the kitchen table, "You...you should sit down Mallory."
He pushed another chair out with his foot in her direction. He knew what he had to do. He had to have a conversation with her right now where he thanked her, assured her of her sexiness and...talents, and made it clear that it could never happen again. He was the adult and he needed to start acting like it.
The plan immediately went awry when Mallory chose the doc's lap for a seat instead.
"Why thank you sir," she cooed theatrically, shifting back and forth in a gentle grind on her employer's lap.
"That's not what I—," Greg began before abandoning ship, deciding this was not where he should put his efforts, "So, about earlier this week..."
"Mmmhmm," she nodded enthusiastically, eyes wide and staring.
"That was...well, it was an incredible experience," the doctor complimented, "I...you blew me away."
Mallory smirked, "I think you are confused, Doc. I haven't blown you in several weeks."
He chuckled humorously, "I think you know what I meant, Mallory."
"Maaaaaaaaybe," she teased, "But everyone loves a pun."
"Ok, fine," he started again, slightly annoyed, "As I was—"
Mallory interrupted him again, leaning in close and whispering in his ear, "You know what else everyone loves?"
"I—will you just let me finish and then tell me?"
"I make no promises."
Greg sighed, "Fine. Go ahead."
He could hear her licks her lips, a soft, wet sound that reminded him of watching predatory great cats on the Discovery Channel for some reason, before she responded, "Blowjobs."
"I know for a fact that's not true."
"Oooo, sorry, Doc. Gina's not a fan of bringing you pleasure?"
"I...I don't think that's why she's—"
"You think she doesn't know you like having your cock sucked?"
"That's not what—"
She ignored his attempts to contradict her, continuing, "I'm not sure how she could think that. When I was on my knees in the shower, it was pretty damn obvious you love blowjobs."
"Mallory, I am not dispu—"
"Although, maybe it was just the location? You a big shower fan Greg?"
"I like showers, sure, but—"
Mallory dropped to her knees in front of him, wicked glint in her eye. "I guess we'll just have to be scientific about this, won't you?" she opined, pulling down the front of his mesh shorts and wicking boxer briefs with surprising dexterity.
Before Greg could even process the shame of his cock already being half hard, Malloy dipped her head downward and took him in her mouth. She slurped loudly, tongue whirling over every bit of semi-rigid skin it could touch. She made sure to make eye contact and offer a self satisfied smirk as Greg's body quickly responded to her hot mouth and tongue. With a wink, she began to bob up and down on the rapidly thickening member, doing her best to hold his eyes until Greg became too overwhelmed.
As she hummed something between an affirmation of his pleasure and an invitation to enjoy it even more so, Greg could not seem to locate a reason to object. His head drooped backward onto the top of the chair, his hands sought and caressed her face. A gentle brief flash of teeth on skin made him shiver in delight. He sluggishly tried to recall what exactly he was doing before she began this obviously well-deserved blowjob but found focusing difficult.
Mallory focused her mouth on the head of his dick as she began to stroke his shaft with both hands. The doctor groaned and rotated his hips in time with her manipulations. "Yes, like that," he called out. She watched him intently, the earlier look of conflict dissipating replaced by concentration and pleasure. The teen coed delighted at how he involuntarily licked his lips or ran his hands over his shaved pate. The occasional flash of his deep blue eyes looking down at her with blurred joy nearly made her gasp in pleasure. He moaned again and she reluctantly released his cock with a moist pop.
"I think that confirms it, Doc," she purred, "You like having your cock sucked. So I guess it is your wife that is no fun, huh? Her loss."
With a theatrical shrug and barely suppressed giggle, Mallory deep throat him. He nearly shot off the seat in response, as though her mouth was a live wire. She battled back a gag and a cough as he plunged far past her lips into her throat. Incoherent noises slipped from his lips.
Then, finally, his brain caught up. "Wife," he thought, grabbing hold of what Mallory had just said. "Damn," he rebuked himself, "end this now. No more!"
"Stop," Greg said, voice strangled with ambivalence, "Don't....No. Stop."
Mallory ignored him, showing no sign of even hearing him.
He raised his voice a bit, "Mallory...stop."
Still she ignored him.
"Mal," he groaned, resolve falling apart like paper in a hurricane, "Just...enough. Stop."
She pressed on a moment longer before stopping. She looked up at him, guilt on her face. "Oh my god," she whispered, "I am so sorry Doctor Clark. I should know better, you know? No means no. I know that. Oh, I am just so...embarrassed. Forgive me?"
Greg found himself confused and conflicted and, as such, could only reply, "Right. Of course."
"Can I... can I still take a shower and change?" she shyly inquired. He could only nod, his cock still exposed, thick, hard, and shiny with saliva.
"Thank you so much," she replied, gently kissing his cheek. Her hand grazed his dick and she pulled back as though it burned.
"Shit!" she proclaimed, "Total accident. So sorry."
Greg finally moved to but it away, offering a half-hearted mumble to assuage her concern.
She left wordlessly and moments later the shower began with a loud clatter of water. Greg began to relax and reflect on what just happened. Although initially a bit disappointed that things had gone so far, he soon talked himself out of that disappointment. He didn't expect Mallory to do what she did, he reasoned. She surprised him. Despite that, though, he still managed to say no and stop her. Overall, he rationalized, there was actually much to be proud of himself about. And if he was still hard, well, who wouldn't be after that partial blowjob.
At the height of his self-congratulations, Mallory bounded past him through the living room. With the exception of the elastics holding her hair in pigtails and the shoes on her feet, she was entirely naked.
"Sorry," she rapidly apologized as she moved past, "Forgot my bag."
Greg sat, eyes fixed wide. Convinced he needed to stop fooling around with her or not, he could not help but gawk at the nineteen year old body so blatantly on display before him. He noted the tan lines, seeing them clearly for the first time. He could not help but imagine the revealing bikini that would've enabled her to get them. Never an ass man, he nonetheless found himself thinking hers was perfect. Toned muscle was clear under her skin, but not intrusively so. It highlighted how good shape she was in without diminishing her feminine sexuality. As she bent over the couch, the lips of her pussy, tight, pink, and moist commanded his attention.
"ARRRGH," she shouted, "Damn it!" She sounded in pain.
"Wha—" Greg asked, hesitantly rising from his chair and heading towards the living room.
"Back spasm," she spat through gritted teeth.
He stopped at the edge of the living room, still a few feet away from where Mallory was draped over the couch, apparently in pain.
"Well?" she demanded, voice angry.
"Wha...what should I do?"
"Well, Doc," she began, sarcastic anger curdling each word, "You could come over here and help me back up to standing."
"How astute of you. Do you think you can get over being a little boy for a second to help me or not?"
"Right....yes, sorry. Being silly," he mumbled and moved to directly behind her, "What's the best way to do this without making you feel worse?"
"Usually...usually, someone just grabs me around my rib cage, here," she instructed, pointed to just below her breasts, "and eases me up."
"Ok, got it," Greg said and reached out. He made sure to keep himself as far away from her as possible to avoid revealing that his hard cock showed no signs of quitting.
"What is this, the fucking eighth grade dance," she mocked, teeth seemingly gritted in pain, "Get right up behind me...I'm going to need you to push against."
"Well...the thing is that..."
"You're hard? Yeah, I saw when I walked by. You're a too big to hide in athletic shorts, Doc. Anyway, I've had your cock in hands, in my mouth, and in my cunt at this point. I think we're past the point of needing to be modest here."
He admitted to himself that, yes, he was probably being silly and erasing the space between them.
"Thank you," she breathed in relief, pushing her ass up and against Greg. He could swear he heard her moan, but he shrugged it off as either his overactive imagination or yet another exhale of pain.
As explained, he grabbed her rib cage and, ever so slowly, guided her body upright.
She exhaled in a one long push and Greg began to stop away. "Hold on!" she objected, "You don't want me to fall on my face, do you?"
"Well, no. Of course not."
"Then just stand there Greg. Let my back work itself back into joint."
So quietly they stood next to the couch, her naked body leaning into his. He was aware of how close they were to the front window. He knew that, at the right angle, looking at the right moment, any passerby could see him embracing his naked teen babysitter. Her tight body would be there for them to devour with their eyes. He imagined the gossip mill that would ensue. Panic rose. He tried to will himself to relax.
"You okay back there?" Mallory checked in.
"Yeah just...feeling exposed."
"You're feeling exposed? I'm the one out here completely on display."
More silence. Greg could feel the heat of her body through his thin clothes, a pleasant, radiating warmth. Her breathing was shallow and irregular, he assumed from pain. He was painfully aware of how rigid his still was, his engorged member thumping against her lower back in time to his heartbeat.
Gradually, almost so slowly that it nearly escape the doctor's notice, Mallory began to press into his body more firmly, no longer just leaning, now molding herself into him.
"Doctor Clark," she whispered.
"It's possible that...well...I might have told you a bit of a lie."
"Well...the thing is...see...I don't have a bad back. I never have."
"Oh...okay," he replied, not really understanding. Either way, she had a spasm, right?
"What I'm saying, Doc, is that there was no spasm."
"But, then, why did you—" he trailed off.
"To get you close," she admitted, a wicked smile playing across her face, unseen to him, "To get your hands on my body."
She let her hand walk up his thigh and across his shorts until it was pinned between them, back of her hand pressed against the small of her back, palm flat against his cock.
"Mallory," he said flatly.
"Doctor Clark?" she replied, making no effort to removed her hand.
"Come on, Mal."
"Your wish is my command," she smirked and cheekily responded, leisurely beginning to move her palm in wide, firm circles.
He hissed between clenched teeth, already feeling lightheaded. "That's not...what I meant," he grunted.
"Really? Huh...I guess you should be clearer in your requests then," she sarcastically played innocent. Her hand did not stop moving.
"Mallory....I'm serious," he grimly assured her.
With a sigh she stopped and turned around to face him. She absentmindedly let her fingers moved across his chest in a random pattern.
"Come on, Doc, you aren't going to make me earn it, are you?" Mallory pouted.
"There's nothing to 'earn.' We are not doing this," he told her firmly. He seized her hand and squeezed it, harder than he intended. She grimaced in response and he released it with a mumbled apology.
"So rough," she whined, rubbing the offended integers.
He apologized again as Mallory brought the fingers to her mouth and sucked them to reduce the soreness. Her eyes fixed on Greg's and she raised an eyebrow teasingly.
"Would you kiss 'em better?" she asked him after releasing them from her moist lips, her pink tongue ever so slightly darting out to give them a last lick.
"Mallory," he heaved, exasperated. "This is silly and it's already gone on too long. Take your shower and get the hell out of here."
He began to walk away when he heard her comment in a stage whisper, "That's fine...I'll just take care of myself here then."
A distinctive wet squelch later, Greg knew exactly what she meant. At first he ignored it, reasoning that she was just trying to gall him. Then, he recalled where she was and how close that large window was. Anger flaring, he stomped back into the room.
Pitched forward, one hand on the top of the couch, the other nestled between her legs, Mallory masturbated herself without shame in his living room. Her small breasts hung ever so slightly down from her chest, rocking with each thrust of her fingers. Her lips were puckered and she exhaled in short quick puffs. Her cheeks flushed quickly, her skin blushing a noticeable pink tone under her tan. For a moment, he forgot what he came in to do.
Mallory peeked over her shoulder at him and smiled warmly. "You can watch if you like," she assured him, "Or, you know, play along. You still look pretty...worked up."
Greg knew what she meant without looking, his cock heavy and hard in his shorts. He blushed at his lack of self control.
"There's no reason you shouldn't be able to appreciate the show your neighbors will too," she added, reminding him of his original purpose.
"Get out of the window," he commanded in a low, tense growl.
"No," she asserted in between small gasps of enjoyment, "You let me suck your cock, get myself all turned on, but won't fuck me? I can deal. But not a chance I let you stop me from getting off."
"At least get out of the window!" he grunted, grabbed her arm.
Mallory spun away and slapped him in a fluid movement. He blinked, stunned. She took advantage of his confusion, grabbing his head and forcing his mouth against hers. He could smell her all over her fingers, feel the sheen of her desire rubbing off on his face. He groaned and Mallory took advantage, slipping her tongue into his open mouth. They tussled and twisted about. Greg would get the upper hand, freeing himself from her grasp, sucking fresh air into his lungs, then Mallory would come back as strong as ever, mouth once again finding his.
Before long, they ended up on the floor, Greg pinned somewhat painfully between the side of the couch and the wall, Mallory draped across him, her hand up the leg of his shorts and grasping him firmly through the athletic boxer briefs.
"Do you think they saw us?" she whispered, "Do you think they saw you throwing around your much younger naked babysitter?"
"Take your ha—"
"Do you think they thought you were raping me? That you were going to fuck my tiny pussy without my permission?"
"Mallory, I am s—"
"I wonder if they called the cops. Any second now, a patrol car could pull up and catch us like this, accuse you of assault. Wouldn't it be better if they could see what a nasty little slut I was when they walked? How much I like you using my body for your sick gratification?"