The Reawakening of Dr. Clark Ch. 06

"Back then, I had a hookup at a local record store who would let me buy CDs at cost so every Tuesday night I'd go down there and buy several of the newest discs. Wednesdays, I was done with classes by 10:30 in the morning so I'd do that and then go to the laundry room with my clothes and a stack of the new CDs. I'd just hang out there for hours, listen to all the stuff I bought the day before, and wash and fold my clothes. It was like my little ritual.

"Anyway, apparently Catie figured it out and one day, about noon, she snuck in and locked the door. Which, of course, I did not hear because I had my headphones on. So she came up behind me, hugged me, and began just kissing and love biting my neck."

"That must have freaked you out," Mallory observed.

"Kind of. Actually, yeah, definitely. Enough that it made me freeze. Because of freezing though, I was able to realize it felt really good. I was shirtless, just wearing athletic shorts because, after all, it was laundry day. I could feel her breasts against my back, warm and soft, and her hard nipple burrowing into my back. Her tongue, her mouth, her lips, her teeth just slowly tasting my skin from the outer shoulder in towards my neck. I went hard like...instantly," he said, snapping his fingers.

Mallory said nothing but visibly squirmed in her seat. She knew her cheeks were flushed hot and pink, could feel her nipples tighten and grow. Her core was warm and molten heading towards wet. She sighed and focused in on her older lover's bright eyes and tried to picture him as an 18 or 19 year old shy version of himself.

"I can't remember what I said to protest, but I know I made an attempt towards asking her to stop. She ignored me and slid her hand inside my shorts, grabbing my cock and...to be honest, it had been a little while and it felt good and...I just folded right there. And she knew it, too, she knew she won. So she started to really jerk me off. Hard and fast. And talking as dirty as I had ever heard anyone talk in real life up until that point."

Mallory shift again, the friction providing a momentary jolt of pleasure. She half-groaned despite herself, "What did she say?"

"A bunch of stuff. I remember 'I knew you wanted this,' 'I get you hard all the time like this, don't I?' 'Do you like the way my tiny hand feels wrapped around your big, fat cock?' distinctly and they all had that kind of feel to it. So she was saying these things to me and just giving me this aggressive handjob and I was, I don't know, it was almost like my whole brain just shut down. It was a wholly different experience. The most overwhelmed I've ever felt during sexual stuff."

"Wow," Mallory commented sarcastically, "Way to make a girl feel diminished."

"No, no," Greg objected, "You misunderstand. It wasn't entirely a good time. Everything about her was so aggressive and almost offensive in its over-the-topness. It was as if... she was trying to... I don't know...torture me? Not like 'torture' because I'm teasing you like crazy. But...real torture. As if the very idea of me was offensive to her and this was the only one she could express it.

"I...I don't know. It was all just wholly arousing and repulsive at the same time.

"I can remember the smell of her, the overwhelming odor of mint mouthwash that she was always drinking to cover up her alcohol breath and the 'fresh breeze' flavor of her shampoo. I can remember the feel of her tongue on my skin and the way her body pressed and then slowly seemed to meld into my own. I was just covered in layers of her. It was stifling and powerful and a little bit scary.

"And then she got really weird. Her dirty talk got...threatening."

"Really? Like what?"

"Like, 'I could just stab you right now and no one would know. Just fucking murder you and get away with it.' And 'I just want to want to choke you while I fuck you, feel you cum as you die.' Really dark stuff like that."

"...shit...scary."

"Like I said, it was bizarre. And my response was too. It...I don't...it really turned me on. I kind of believed her I guess...I really thought she might do it and it made feel helpless. But the way she said it, the breathiness of her voice, it was undeniably exciting to me. That's what I meant when I said it was overwhelming."

"Did she make you cum?"

"Yes."

"Hard?"

"Very."

"God," she whispered, breath heavy, "Then what?"

"She left. Just walked right out. I was able to recover enough to turn around and watch her leave, topless and in a pair of black silk boy shorts."

"Was that the last time?"

"No," Greg confessed, "It probably should've been. That would've been the right thing to do. But...no."

"Tell me," Mallory beseeched him.

"Are you sure?" Greg confirmed.

"Mmm...yes," she smirked, "I'm...enjoying this."

"Ok, fine. The next she approached me, sober, and asked if I wanted to be serious. I told her no and she got angry, swore up and down at me, demanded to know why I didn't stop her from doing what she did the day before. I let her get it all out, apologized, and headed on my way. I didn't see her for more than a week after that.

"Then Friday came around and I was burnt out. One of Catie's insane parties had kept me up nearly all night with noise and I had a mandatory freshman meeting that morning. So I was basically too tired to sleep but too exhausted to be doing anything. My roommate and his girlfriend had left to visit his parents for the weekend so I was sitting in my desk chair staring at the TV, being super lazy. I had all sorts of vague thoughts of stuff I wanted to do: go to the gym, do some reading for class, jerk off...that sort of thing. But I was just too damn blah to get going. So there I sat, dressed for the gym, book open on my desk, half hard, but just gaping at my TV showing a rerun of Fraser, a show I never watched before then or since."

"You're losing me again, Doctor Clark," she cheekily injected.

"You want the story, you're going to get the story," he replied.

"Fine...but I'm listening under protest," she pouted.

"Acceptable," he said, briefly sticking his tongue out at her, "There I am, too eh to get anything done. And here come Catie. She's opens the door without knocking, closes it behind her without asking if she can come in, and clicks the lock in place. I'm immediately on guard, asking her what she wants, telling her I'm kind of busy, etc.

"Catie just brings one finger to her lips and shhs at me. 'Quiet,' she orders me, 'I've got stuff to say.'

"I should be unlocking the door and pushing her out it but I don't. Like I said, I was dull around the edges. The whole thing felt off, but I just couldn't motivate myself to move. It was like being frozen in panic without the pounding heart rate, sweating palms, and the like."

"'Will you walk into my parlor,' said the Spider to the Fly?" Mallory offered.

"Sort of, yeah. Knowing the danger but too beguiled to escape. Anyway, she walks around the room and starts drawing the shades, one by one. She clearly woke up very recently, but not just. She's taken the time to tussle her auburn hair just so and I can smell that familiar cloud of Listerine around her. She has on the tiniest pair of shorts she must own, pale green with blue piping, and a white t-shirt that's been washed so much you can tell it used to say something on it, but can't see what. Then I notice she's wearing heels, which is too improbable to ignore."

"What kind of heels?" the babysitter interrupts.

"High ones," Greg replied, vague sarcasm crinkling the corners of his voice.

"Don't kid me. I know you remember. Amongst other things, you are clearly a man who appreciates the footwear a woman takes the time to pick out."

He sighed and while shrugging his admittance, described them, "They were like high heel sneakers. You know, tennis shoe style. Black. A texture to them...maybe velour? Thick heel, probably about 3 inches high."

"How did her legs look in them?" Mallory wondered aloud, leaning in.

"...Great. Honestly, I remember them looking as good as her legs had ever looked. And she had nice legs. In those shoes those...they were luminescent...they couldn't have been more attention grabbing if she dipped them in fluorescent paint."

"Careful, Doctor Clark, you might get this gal jealous."

Greg leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, "Right now, it seems more like I am getting this gal off."

She made a "my goodness, what improper manners" face as he returned to a seated position. He smiled the smile of someone trying to suppress a guffaw and picked up the story.

"When all the shades were drawn, she walked back to my desk, and stood between the television and me, legs provocatively akimbo. I ogled her, I admit it. The energy in the room was heavy with portent. There was part of me concerned that she intended to follow through on her laundry room fantasies.

"I began to stand, saying, 'Look, Catie, I'm not sure what—

"She cut me off, hand on my chest to keep me seated. 'Greg, I've just been feeling soooo guilty,' she began, 'I know I've treated you very...oddly lately. Mean at times. And that's not fair. You are a good guy. I know that.'

"I hesitantly accepted the compliment with a small, 'Thanks.'

"'I'm just the type of girl who...expects certain things. Expects success, you know. To get what she wants. And I've wanted you all semester. Wanted you very fucking bad, actually. I think I've made that clear. And yet, you...you keep not giving me what I want.'

"I objected, 'It's not that you aren't...very attractive and interesting and fun, it's just...'

"'I know, I know,' she said, waving me off, 'I get it. You can think I'm hot and still not want to date me. I understand. Disappointing, but...I know that. Which is why there was no excuse for what I did.'"

"She said all this did she?" the coed before him asked skeptically.

"Approximately," he responded, eyes rolling in annoyance, "I'm recreating the event to give you the feel of it, even if the dialogue is not 100 percent accurate. Understood?"

Mallory smirked and bid him continue.

"I tried to let her off the hook with a 'hey, the things we do for love, right?' kind of platitude, but she wasn't having it. She kept repeating it was wrong what she did, it sucked that she treated me that way. I told her all was forgiven and she said she wouldn't feel that we were good until she made it up to me.

"I assured her that it was not necessary but seeing we were reaching an impasse and being too zonked to care and my patience for the annoying 'no it's fine, no I insist' game so I gave in. 'Fine,' I allowed, 'You can make it up to me. But I'm pretty tired right now so maybe later?'

"She smiled at me, confident and pleased with herself, and assured me, 'I promise that I will do all the work and you will forget you are tired right away.'

"'No, no, really,' I started and she cut me off with a look.

"'I can't have this guilt hanging over me another moment, Gregory,' she pouted and I folded like a card table, giving her the go ahead. She perked up and declared, 'So, like I said, it sucked I treated you the way I did, so I think the way to make it up to you is, well, to do just a little more sucking.'

"Now, when I say I was dull that day, I mean it. I was so dull, the basically single entendre sailed over my head by a wide margin. It wasn't until she pulled her shirt over her head with surprising ease and tossed it at me that I realized what she was saying."

Mallory giggled in retrospect at his cluelessness.

"Like I said...dull. Plus, I still had never had a blowjob."

"What?!"

"Will you keep it quiet?!"

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"As I said before, high school sweetheart shut down oral sex in advance. Thought it was gross. It wasn't like I wasn't aware of it. It was just that, in some ways, I was still resigned to never getting one so that, merged with my somnambulist state...I just plain didn't make the connection. And then, when I did, there were Catie's breasts, exposed for me to see."

"Aww, she had you beat before you were even in the game," Mallory teased her employer.

"She curled into my lap and pulled me into her for a hard kiss. Her hand slid with incredible dexterity between my shorts and my boxers, seeking me out. I gasped, pulled away, and told her no. She smiled in reply, eyes lacking any warmth, and asked me, 'How do you think this ends? Do you think you just say no enough and I go away? Do you really think it'll be that easy? You may not want to date me, but I know you want me. I know when you jerk yourself off, you can't help but think of how nice my tits felt against your back or my hot breath in your ear. I've watched you and I've asked around about you. Your nineteen, you must be perpetually hard, and you are surrounded by girls and women in their physical prime. I know you must think about fucking almost every person on this campus every time you see them. But you haven't hooked up at all. Some girl back home visited a couple of times and apparently you made her moan and scream'."

Mallory interjected with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Girl named Brynna...friend of a friend actually. We both got dumped around the same time and kind of hit it off. Did nothing besides kiss and dry hump, really, but she really liked to dry hump. We went at it almost all summer and into first semester but then both of us kind of realized it wasn't going anywhere so we stopped."

"Mmmhmm," was all the babysitter said.

Greg began again, "So she was saying,'...apparently you made her moan and scream, but she's it. No other fun for you. So you must be set to explode. Why not with me? You know, sooner or later, I'm going to catch at a weak moment and it's going to happen. Better now, right? Or do you really intend to try and stay strong?'

"I shook my head, giving in, and her smile grew, her eyes took on a cruel twinkle. 'Good,' she replied, 'Now let me take care of you. Let me show you what you'll be missing.' I nodded again, weakly, and gave in. Her mouth was over mine, her tongue exerting its will over mine. I moaned, I admit, in pleasure as she grasped my cock and began to stroke me from half mast to full, angry hardness. My hands found her tits and I caressed them gently. 'You can do better than that,' she admonished me and in a flash I was pulling and rolling her nipples without thinking. She smiled and groaned, demanding it harder. 'I knew there was a devil in you,' she whispered in triumph before moving to my neck and biting down hard, leaving a bruise, a souvenir she called it, that took two weeks to fade.

"Pleased with herself, she dropped to her knees and grabbed my shorts and underwear, pulling them off in one quick jerk. My cock stood exposed, rigid and involuntarily bouncing with each beat of my heart. She licked her palm and grabbed it, tight and hard, and began to yank it. 'Remember this,' she moaned, 'Remember how hard I made you fucking cum with my hand.' I could do nothing but whimper and nod, fear and pleasure mixing into one indiscernible mess of sensation.

"'Can I touch myself while I blow you?" she asked me, eyes bright and wide, a mockery of innocence, 'I'm just so wet right now and...well, I just don't know what I'll do if you say no.' To punctuate her point, she spun her tongue around the head of my dick, lapping away my pre-cum.

"I let my head drop back and told her in raspy, short breathed voice, 'Please do.'

"I could hear the grin in her voice as she asked, 'How do you want me?' I couldn't understand what she meant so she patiently spelled it out for me, 'Do you want me like this? Do you want in just my panties? Naked?'

"Without conscious thought of it I whispered shamefully, 'Naked.' She smirked her self-satisfied grin and stood up. Making sure my eyes were on her, she slowly shimmied and spun, dancing a brief striptease to no music. I gazed, unblinking, and took in the sight of her, the first woman I'd seen fully nude, in person. My high school girlfriend had shown me her breasts and let me touch her all over, but every time we fooled around she was always wearing at least panties. I could touch her under them but they'd never come off. And now this woman, basically this stranger, was showing me everything. Her beautiful full breasts, topped with tiny almost red nipple jutting skyward, her pert ass, the slope of her abdomen from chest to waist to the thin, close cropped patch of hair between her legs.

"Every part of me was screaming to just go for it. To take her and give her everything she claimed she wanted. Hard and fast, right there on my desk, on the floor. She let her fingers dance between her legs, separating the folds and returning glistening. She smeared her essence roughly across my lips and while I licked them clean and the taste drove me wild, I did not leap up from the chair and act on my impulses. Somehow I held back. I just did. As she sunk back to her knees, I saw a brief flash of disappointment. If I had to guess, she was hoping I wouldn't hold back.

"One hand disappeared between her legs, her breathing changing almost immediately, and the other grabbed my still turgid member. As few gentle tugs and then... she took me in her mouth. Quickly. Fully. Until she gagged. I don't know if she was the best at blowjobs or anything, but for my first introduction to oral sex...it was amazing. I instantly understood what all the hype was about.

"She set about her task with merry enthusiasm, humming nearly throughout, stopping only to quietly, but definitely exhale hard as she climax on her fingers. She deep throated me, suck me as she stroked me, licked me all over, lightly bit me...it was incredible. Then, sensing I was close, she began to talk to me.

"She declared, 'When you are about to cum, you have to tell me.' I agreed hastily, anything to get her to keep going. 'I don't swallow. I...don't deserve to get that privilege. Sluts shouldn't get rewarded.'

"I tried to tell her that that wasn't true, that she was no slut. I was still stuck on the idea that slut had to be bad, you understand. But she kept refusing to take my statements seriously. I don't even know if she heard me, honestly. She ran my cock, rigid and slick with her spit, up and down her cheek and moaned, 'Just a dirty slut. Shouldn't enjoy this. Can't help myself. So wrong. Love it. Love sucking cock. So wrong though.' It was as though she was unraveling before me. And, god help me, I was turned on by it. In a sick way, it made me feel...powerful. Like my dick was too much for her. That she loved it so much it had broken her head. And knowing I shouldn't feel that way, knowing how sick that was, just turned me on more.

"She did that for the next several minutes, alternating between sucking me and taking me out and rubbing me over her face, her tits, stroking me, all while monologuing about how bad she was. After a few rounds, it had taken its toll on me. I couldn't sit still. I pushed against her hand, I fucked her mouth, and she loved it. She told me to go harder, to 'really punish' her.

"Finally, between her firm grasp and her wet, hot, deep mouth, I couldn't hold back. 'Gonna cum,' I called out to her and she seemingly ignored me, sucking me hard. 'Oh god, your mouth feel so good Catie. You're going to make me cum.' Still she persisted and I just gave in. I remember thinking dark, selfish thoughts about how if she didn't listen, she deserved a mouth full of cum. With that thought, I groaned and exploded, my first pulse arriving in her mouth. She pulled me, gagging and sputtering, and stroked me hard and fast, sending my lust all over her face. Again and again, she said, almost chanted, 'This is what sluts get. This is what they deserve. This is what I deserve.'

"I should've done the right thing and told her that wasn't so, but I could not...not in the state of mind I was in. Instead, I cheered her on. Told her she was right, that she was getting what she deserved. Eventually she stopped, her face painted everywhere. 'Thank you,' she whispered and stood to leave."