The Reawakening of Dr. Clark Ch. 06byThe_Maestro_Braddock©
Doctor Greg Clark awkwardly lowered himself into the overstuffed armchair and placed his giant mug of cappuccino on the small, round, wrought iron table before him. He glanced around. This is the first time he had ever been in this coffee shop. It made sense. It was about 15 minutes outside of the town where he worked and lived...there generally wasn't much reason to head out here.
But the place smelled great, the sip of his drink had just the right mix of espresso, steamed milk, and cinnamon, and he appreciated the barista who had embraced a fashion choice of varsity sweaters and poodle skirts despite that clearly not being something required to work there.
He sat sipping his coffee and staring out the window. He was not entirely sure what he was here to do. After last week, after the office, he and Mallory both agreed that they should sit down and talk. Talk somewhere where there was very little chance of them being able get naked. She had suggested this place, reasoning it would be easy enough for him to get out there after his last appointment (Every Thursday was his half-day, a privilege he allowed himself as he offered Saturday hours every week. Normally, he'd go to a movie, but being here seemed far more important to him at this time.) and still be home to greet Gina and the kids when they got home at 5.
Mallory walked in moments later, her strides fluid and unhurried. She was dressed unfussily in a tank top and yoga pants, her hair pulled back by small clips, no doubt planning to hit up the gym after this. She smiled at him and offered him a short giddy wave before getting in line.
Greg attempted to make his ogling of the supple sensual line of her back and the incredible thing those pants did for her ass somewhat not obvious. He imagined he was failing. He wondered if he should've taken his ring off before coming. Would that make this meeting better or worse? Then he remembered how much Mallory loved the feeling of his wedding band on her clit the first time he made her cum. He let himself indulge in that trip down memory lane, only refocusing on the world around him when his babysitter sat down next to him in a similarly comically large chair.
She curled herself into the swingback, resting one foot lightly on his knee, tucking the other beneath her. She dragged her finger through the whipped cream atop her mocha and casually licked it off her digit. He wondered if she was aware of how hot it was or if this was just something she did.
"Hey you!" she said brightly, wide smile dancing upon her face. He could not help but smile back. Her levity was contagious.
"Hey Mal," he returned, temporarily forgetting to worry about other people must think of his 30 plus year old self sharing a table and coffee with a pretty blonde teen.
"Nice to see you. I love you in that suit. I think the tie makes your eyes even brighter," Mallory complimented him, fixing her eyes on his.
"Thanks," he replied, blushing a bit.
She called him on it, giggling, "Oh my god, that's so cute. I love making boys blush."
He only nodded in reply and a silence blanketed them both as they sat, looking at each other and sipping coffee.
She broke the tension awkwardly, "I've seen you naked."
"Yup," he replied, coughing slightly on his hot beverage.
"And you've seen me naked."
"I'd very much like for that to happen more."
"Uh-huh," he offered noncommittally.
"Would you also like that?"
Greg exhaled slowly, preparing to respond. Mallory cut him off before he had the chance, "Let me rephrase that: do you like seeing me naked?"
Again, the doctor gathered himself, beginning, "Well—"
"Uh-uh," she asserted, "This is not a court of law and I have no interest in some lengthy explanation. Yes or no, do you like seeing me naked?"
"My body...does it turn you on?"
"Can I assume then that you enjoy what I do to you with this naked body and what I let you do to me?"
"Good. And for the record, I am unanimous in my support of seeing you naked and having you do things to me with that nakedness."
"...thank you?" he replied hesitantly.
"And thank you. For both the compliments and the nakedness you've provided."
"Well, ok then," he mumbled, taking a long drink for lack of a better idea what to do.
"I guess all I need to know is that you are in," she offered, pushing through the weird rhythm of the conversation.
"Yes, 'in.' This is something that's happening here," she gestured between the two of them, "I like it. I like fucking you, I like you fucking me. I love how your cum feels inside me, on my skin and I know you enjoy giving it to me. I don't mind you trying to be the good guy, trying not to indulge the desires you have beating below the skin. In fact, that's usually a turn-on in and of itself for me. But I need to know you really do want it. I need to know that you are onboard with this, that you recognize we've connected and we both need this outlet. And I need you to not always be resistant. Because, yes, I love seducing you, but I will need you to sometimes take control and seduce me. Or at least be onboard from the start of some encounters."
She completed her speech and glanced away, the confidence no longer hiding her fear and embarrassment, red leached into her cheeks.
"Wow, umm..." he hemmed and hawed, "Wow, Mal...I...look. I, jeez. Okay, yes I think we have connected. And clearly you've reawakened things in me that I let go so long ago I forgot they were ever there. I don't know how I can go back now...I'm pretty sure I can't. And I have to you thank-slash-blame for that. So a large part of me—"
"Definitely large," she cracked, smirking and refusing to make eye contact.
"Really?" he replied, eyebrows arching, "I mean...stop distracting me! As I was saying, yes, there is a big part of me who wants to keep doing this, that wants to see where this is going."
The doctor could see her body language shift slightly, betraying her excitement about the development. He felt guilty to cut off that enthusiasm at the knees.
"But," he continued and cringed as she retracted, "I'm married. I have two kids. My first responsibility lies with them.
"I know that," she affirmed, "I'm not suggesting we run away together to the Bahamas to spend our days naked on the beach and leave them behind. At least not for more than a weekend at time."
She smirked and when she saw him do the same, she pressed on, "But seriously, I'm not here to break up your home. I'd never want to do that. You are a good husband and a great father."
"Well, maybe a great father, but—"
"Knock that off," she urged him, clasping her hand over his. His pulse raced, he felt warm all over with the skin-to-skin contact. "You didn't pursue me. You weren't some horned up dad peeking on me in my bikini or finding weird excuses to rub up against me. If you were that kind of guy, this never would've happened. I saw how great you were, how much you sacrificed without asking for anything in return. Then, I heard Gina talk about your relationship and realized how all her needs were getting met but only those of yours that aligned with hers were getting attention. The belly button ring thing, the fact that she told her friend that you guys never used dirty talk while I knew you had files on your computer that were just women talking dirty, the moments you'd lose yourself and actually glance at another woman, especially if they wore heels, while your wife refused to wear anything like they had on, didn't even really own anything like it, despite having a killer body—"
He interrupted her, "You don't have to do—"
"I'm not doing anything Greg, I'm just being honest. It's not fair that you've exposed your desires to her and had her repeatedly vote down all but the ones she'd do anyway while she gets all hers met without ever having to do the hard thing and say, 'This is a fantasy of mine.'"
"No 'I guess' about it. It's true. And here's what else is true. Without me, one day you will wake and realize this on your own and you will go out and fuck someone else and that someone else won't give a damn about your wife or kids and will gladly blow up your life to have you to themselves because, Doc, you are a world champ in the bedroom."
He blushed and waved her off.
"I'm serious," she said, smiling radiantly again, "I think the only person, place, or idea that's gotten me off harder or on more occasions are my hands and my toys and they basically have 24/7 access to me for practicing purposes."
They both laughed a bit at that and the tension slipped off their shoulders.
"So," she started again in between chuckles, "Are you 'in'?"
He paused and then nodded, "With a pitch like that, I don't see how I cannot be. We have to be safe and smart, but...god, I can't believe I'm doing this...but yes, I want this. I want you."
"Good," she cooed, throwing her arms around his neck, "I am going to make this decision totally worth your while."
"I have no doubt. Just don't feel under any obligation to keep it going when you decide you are tired of this old man.
"Hehe," she tittered, "I wouldn't worry about that, Greg. Sooooo, you know what we have to do now?"
"Ummm..." he mulled, shrugging.
"Trade sexual histories!"
He smiled widely and laughed in return, "O...k."
"I know it's a little putting the horse way after the cart at this point, but we should probably have some aspect of our relationship that we are responsible about. Plus, it could be fun."
She tossed him an exaggerated wink then and a sweet giggle.
"I'll start," she announced bouncing in her chair to face him cross-legged, "Three. Four including you."
"You know...guys I've...slept with..." she hesitantly offered.
"Oh...OH! I see. Four. Okay."
"Does that surprise you? Is that bad?"
"What? Oh, no. Not bad at all. I honestly had no idea what to expect. You could have told me I was your first or your 31st and I would have been equally believing."
"But it's okay?"
"Yes, yes of course. I always said I wanted to sleep with a more experienced girl."
"Well that's goo—wait...really?" she queried skeptically.
"Yeah. I'm two, including you."
"HOLY SHIT!" she shouted and that slapped her hands over her own mouth, eyes wide in shock.
"Would you quiet down?" he whispered beseechingly, eyes scanning the room. The shop was more or less empty and only the girl in the poodle skirt seemed to notice the outburst, giggling to herself and averting her eyes as she cleaned out one of the espresso pumps.
"Just...just me and your wife?" Mallory whispered.
"Yes. Just the two of you. Is that so hard to believe?"
"Well...fuck, yes, Greg, it is. You're hot. And I've seen pictures of you when you were younger so I know that it's not a recent phenomenon. A handsome, smart guy with your demeanor and build should've been cleaning up!"
"Well, I met Gina the summer after my sophomore year of college..." he trailed off.
"And?! What about those first two years? What about high school?!"
"I only dated my first girlfriend in high school for a little while and I was so worried about being too aggressive that basically nothing happened at all. My second girlfriend told me early on she was against sex before marriage and I thought I was too young anyway. It turns out, I eventually stopped feeling too young, but she kept to her guns about that. In college I had...opportunities, but...I don't know. I felt like I had waited this long, it should at least be with someone I have a deep emotional connection to."
"Ooo, ooo, tell me about the opportunities!" she cackled, grabbing his arm.
"Uh-uh, we are still on you. You need to explain your four."
"Fine," she pouted, crossing her arms and accidentally or very purposefully forcing her breast upward towards the opening of her sport tanktop, "But don't think I'm forgetting this."
"I won't he promised and indicated for her to go on."
"Okay...first one was...my first. My boyfriend at the time, it was just alright and then he got really weird. Possessive. Obsessive. Really freaked himself out about his performance, about what I was doing when he wasn't around. So, I had to break up with him."
"Don't be. For most of us, present company excluded apparently, the first one ending weirdly is not all that unusual. Anyway, second guy was a close friend of mine for years. I broke up with my boyfriend really near prom and this guy offered to be my date. There was never anything sexual between us—"
"Uh-huh," Greg replied with an overexaggerated wink of his own.
"I'm serious!" she giggled, slapping him on the arm, "There never had been, but prom worked its magic, I guess. I got really turned on dancing with him and we ended up in a room by ourselves at the hotel when another couple get busted by his parents in the lobby because they found out he was going to a hotel for the night which they specifically told him not to. We fully planned to go to the party in the suite we had all split, but while changing one thing led to another and, well, we didn't make it. Everyone assumed we just got wrapped up in the drama of our roommates and didn't come looking for us."
"Naughty, naughty," he teased, "Was it better?"
"Oh yeah...much. I mean, it was pretty vanilla compared with what I know I like now. You know, no dirty talk, just missionary, that sort of thing. But he was talented so I didn't mind that. We might have made a go of a relationship but he was going to go to Europe for college so we both decided that was unrealistic."
"Do you regret that?"
"Not really. The long distance would've been killer and, to be honest, when my libido wasn't already way elevated by ball gowns, dancing, and freedom from parental influence, kissing him was way weird. So, it was definitely for the best that we didn't prolong it.
"Last year, I had kind of an on again-off again fuck buddy thing going on with a senior. He wanted to be serious, I had no interest in anything but going out with my friends to our parties and meeting him back at his room at like 2 in the morning to get my fix. I think I broke his heart."
"Wow...harsh there Mal."
"Oh, whatever. He was one of these jock jerks who calls the freshman girls 'fresh meat' and picks one out to use and toss away. It just happens that he was unlucky enough to choose me and he's the one who ended up all loopy and starry-eyed. I have no sympathies for him."
"Well, I know not to cross you. You're a tough one."
"And don't you forget it," she said, mock punching him and giggling, destroying the illusion. "Anyway, that's me. Your turn."
"Ok. Gina. Done."
"Come on! I want details. Oh and I want to know about the almosts, too."
"Fine, fine. Which first?"
"Hmm...let's go with the wife."
"Well, there's not much to tell that you haven't heard before, I think," Greg began, "I was convinced by career services that I needed an internship between sophomore and junior year so I applied for and got this one at a nonprofit that was about getting medical supplies to poor or devastated countries. It was sort of like Medical Supplies without Borders. I was pre-med so it seemed like a good fit. Gina ended up getting one of their other internships because she wanted to learn how to run a non-profit. We met and hit it off right away. By the end of the summer, we were exclusive and when we went back to our respective schools, we agreed to do the long distance thing. And with one minor hiccup, we did.
"We graduated, moved closer to one another. Then, closer. Then moved in together. Then got married. Kids. Here."
"Uh-huh," she said, looking on skeptically, "And?"
"And what?" he shrugged evasively.
She leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered in his ear, her hand "accidentally" brushing across the front of his pants, "And when did you first make her scream your name?"
He blushed, smirked, and answered, "We started making out pretty early on. Had progressed to dry humping before we left at the end of the summer. That was pretty frustrating because it worked for her all the time but only me about 25% of the time and she refused to use her hand. Or anything else."
"Oooo, poor Greggy. You just have been so worked up," she mocked.
"Laugh it up, funny girl, laugh it up," he scolded before returning to his story. "Hand stuff started happening when I visited during Fall Break, I think. So we had been together about four months by that point."
"Four months?! You were 20 years old and had to wait for 4 months for a handjob?!"
"Well, I was 19. Remember, my birthday is in November, so she still had a few weeks to go. But, basically, yes to your question" he replied witheringly.
Mallory swallowed her giggle and tried to sympathetically intone, "You were a saint, Doc, an absolute saint."
"Right. Anyway, that's where we stayed for awhile, maybe another year. Then came oral."
"Ooo, did you make her use her pure little mouth? Was she—"
More or less ignoring Mallory, he pressed on, "She was onboard with that back then. Claimed to enjoy doing it for me. She was better at it than she was with her hand, so that was cool. And I enjoyed going down on her. It was pretty great."
"Was she your first?"
"To give me a blowjob?"
"No...no...I'll tell that story in a sec though. I was her first, however. For damn near everything, I think. Anyway, that was our physical relationship more or less until we were both the same city. So we were...23 the first time we had sex."
Mallory pretends to do a spit take and gasps, "For serious?"
"Yes," he grumbled, "For serious. We were engaged a few months later, married about nine months after that. Gina got pregnant a year or so later with Shelley. Then Martin was three years after that."
He continued, cracking a smile, "About two years after Martin was born, my 19 year old babysitter blew me in the shower and then fucked me a few weeks later. And I think that catches you up to date."
"Your babysitter sounds like a slut," Mallory jokes.
"A total slut," Greg agreed smirking.
She giggled and bounced slightly in her chair in delight. "Continue," she demanded in a silly voice.
"What's to continue? Met wife, had sex with her, stayed faithful until a saucy minx came along."
"Saucy minx, huh? I like that. But I meant tell me about the two almost."
"Ahh...ok. Well, first was freshman year of college. Then there was—"
"Wait, wait, wait...don't rush past that. I want details!"
"I don't know," she responded, contorting her body as if shy, "Maybe I like to hear that sexy voice of yours describing the naughty things you did to other girls."
"You are bad."
"Only at my best."
"Fine, fine. Let's see."
"Remember, LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOTS of details."
"Ok. So Catie lived down the hall from me from freshman year. She was a junior, like 5' 2", strawberry blonde with more red than blonde, and, for some reason, took a liking to me right away. On campus we had like an instant messaging system and she'd use it to send me messages all the time. Mostly invitations to have a 'sleepover,' her words, not mine, and semi-provocative pictures of herself she took with like an ancient digital camera. I was still all mopey after Ms. Virgin from high school and I broke up so I largely ignored it.
"Plus, she was a crazy drinker, almost four or five nights week and always til she was just blasted. That was not really my scene. So that, on top of us being in different classes and me being wounded after the high school breakup, I was just not very receptive."
Mallory yawned sarcastically, "Wow, Doc, this is titillating."
"Hey, you said you wanted the story, so you need to deal with the setup."
"Fine," she pouted, "Go on."
"So, she's keeps pushing and I keep just evading. Thrust, parry. That sort of thing. I wasn't even fully aware that I was doing it.