The Reawakening of Dr. Clark Ch. 11byThe_Maestro_Braddock©
Dr. Greg Clark gritted his teeth and tried to focus on Ms. Bristol's words. It wasn't that she was boring; he was genuinely interested in how Shelly was adjusting to life as a kindergarten student. Mallory, however, was making it damn hard to concentrate on anything but how hard he was and how good her hand felt— slipped through his open fly and unbuttoned boxers—stroking him slowly, but persistently.
This was supposed to be parent-teacher day where parents arrived en masse to drink weak punch, eat weak store bought cookies, meet one another, and have brief meetings with their children's teachers. Gina could not make it due to a work commitment but she suggested Greg bring Mallory along. He objected but she argued that since, as the kids' babysitter, she also would be checking to make sure Shelly was doing what she should for school when they weren't around, Mallory needed the information too. Under normal circumstances, it would be a perfectly appropriate suggestion. Everything involving Mallory these days didn't seem quite appropriate anymore.
Greg had fought off Mallory's advances long enough to get to the school, but the moment they sat down in Ms. Bristol's room, there had been no stopping her. At first it was just a hand on his thigh, then the hand was, occasionally, brushing his crotch. Next, a more definite fondling, on top of the pants. Finally, Mallory realized that Greg was too concerned about not being noticed to actually stop her and decided to be as inappropriate as she could manage. Hence, the firm slow motion handjob under the juice stained conference table.
"I'm sorry...umm...Dr. Clark?" a voice in the hallway floated in. Greg drew his eyes towards, feeling as though he was trying to move his head through jello.
"Yes?" he managed, surprised by how dry his mouth was.
"Your son is experiencing a bit of a...meltdown in our daycare room. We were wondering if you might come and take him?"
"Oh, sure," he agreed, turning to Ms. Bristol, "Is that ok?"
"Well, we were almost done so I suppose that—" she began, her voice betraying her feeling that it was, in fact, not ok.
Mallory interrupted, quickly zipping Greg's pants, "I can go, Doctor Clark. You finish here and then come and find us."
"Could you do that?" Ms. Bristol asked, face brightening.
"Of course. Happy to," the babysitter reassured.
Ms. Bristol gushed, "That's just so helpful."
"See you later, Doc," Mallory called out cheekily as she left.
Ten minutes later, Ms. Bristol was drawing to a close. Greg had gotten more out of it since Mallory left, but not as much as he would've liked. One of the unexpected consequences of his affair with the coed was how sex crazy he had gotten. He found himself inspecting women more than ever before and, unfortunately for his attention, Ms. Bristol was a young attractive woman. So he spent a great deal of time taking her in with his eyes.
She was a new teacher in her third year so the doctor estimated she was about 25 or 26. She was confident in herself, he could tell, and had therefore not made an effort to conceal who she was. She had an asymmetric haircut dyed a deep red color and left the multiple piercings in each ear and a stud in her nose in. Today she was wearing a pink button down v-neck sweater that was appropriate but allowed for a bit of cleavage when she was seated because of the height difference between her and Greg and her tendency to lean forward as she spoke. Her dark grey pencil skirt nicely highlighted her thin waist and shapely legs while still suggesting a certain seriousness about her job. On her feet, she had a simple pair of black kitten heel mid-calf boots that were no doubt comfortable, and therefore a rational choice for a teacher on her feet all day, but still sexy and fashionable. So, even without Mallory there to tease him, Greg had remained stiff as the wing of a tropical storm.
She spoke with her hands, using highly animated motions to convey her excitement. As she reached the end of her spiel about Shelly, she failed to notice the punch cup Mallory left behind on the table and set it tumbling, half full, into Greg's lap. Without waiting for permission, she was on him with a napkin and numerous, rapidly spoken apologies.
"Oh! So sorry. I can't believe I...So sorry. Should come out, but...Oh man, sir I mean...so embarrassed," she rambled.
Greg repeatedly let her off the hook and tried to force her off him before she could feel him straining against his flat front navy pants. And for one hopeful moment, it seemed he had. Then she noticed another spot of pink and was dabbing away.
"Just one more spot there," she said aloud, ignoring his protests, "Let me get it. Again I am so sorry. I can be so clumsy and...Ooooooo."
She said it like that, all exaggerated and slow. She had found his cock.
"Doctor Clark," she looked into his eyes, voice taking on a scolding tone, "Is this what I think it is?"
His mouth went dry, his tongue got fat. Every muscle in his body froze. Even his brain seemed to grind to a halt.
"Verrrrrrrrrrrrry nice," she continued, cracking a naughty smile, releasing all the tension in the room in a rush. Then, Greg realized what she called very nice and got stressed all over again.
"You know," she cooed in his ear, hand still firmly on his cock, "I always told myself when I became a teacher that I would do my best to establish a relationship between not only myself and the students, but take the care to go the extra mile for exceptional students and their parents. Your daughter seems to be exceptional and, you, Dr. Clark, sir, certainly feel the same way to me. Would you like me to go the extra mile for you?"
"Wha—what do you mean?" Greg managed.
"Well...let me put it this way. When I was younger, I really thought I should wait for marriage to have sex. I've since revised my position on the matter, but for a few years there, I was quite dedicated to that point of view. The problem was, and I am trying to put this delicately here, I still loved cock. I, frankly, craved it. So I developed quite a...talent for handjobs during those lean years. Do you understand?"
"Do I understand that you got good at handjobs?"
"Not good. Great. Legendarily great. And while I would like to see how you handle this monster when both of us are naked, this doesn't seem to be the place and certainly not the time. But a man with a dick this hard shouldn't go home with it...unattended."
"I have my hand on your cock, Dr. Clark, it only seems fair that you call me Claire. Unless, you know, calling me Ms. Bristol is a turn-on for you. Is it, sir? Is it a turn-on?"
"I—I don't know what to—"
"Just relax, Dr. Clark. Just tell me how you got so hard and let me do the work."
"This...please Ms—er—Claire. We shouldn't be doing this."
"Oh, I don't know...Young handsome parent with a nice cock. Even younger schoolteacher with a talent for handsex. Isolated classroom. Seems pretty right to me."
"Yes, yes you are. But I don't see your wife anywhere here. And yet, here you are, long, thick, and stiff. Now what put you in this state?"
Silence. Claire pulled in him against her body and whispered, all hot breath and tongue, in his ear, "Tell Ms. Bristol what turns you on, sir." She began to rub him through his pants in tight concentric circles, keeping her body pressed tight against him. Greg gasped and tried to resist becoming further turned on, but made no move to push her away.
"Kiss me," she moaned, tipping her head upward. To Greg's own shock, he acquiesced without objection, merging his mouth with hers. Her mouth was oddly cold and bracingly fresh. She tasted vaguely of birch beer; sweet with that underlining sharp bite. Tongues sought out one another, twisting, joining, and separating again. They broke apart, Greg unconsciously having wrapped his arms around Claire.
She looked up at him, blue eyes ablaze. "I think that's what they call chemistry," she asserted, smiling wide.
Greg nodded, panic dancing across his face. He might have broken through a lot of his hesitance with Mallory but that did not mean he was ready to get jerked off by his daughter's kindergarten teacher during parent-teacher conference day. He began to speak in a tumble of words, searching for some handhold, some way to put the brakes on this situation, "It was a great kiss. You are good at kissing. Very good. I liked it. And your hand feels nice. It does. But, but...shouldn't...can't—"
Claire kissed him once more, silencing him. Again, Greg was surprised by his lack of effort at rebuking her. She fumbled with his belt, popping it loose with clumsy fingered manipulation. She bit his lip gently as she slid his zipper open.
"Claire," he gasped as she pulled him out of his boxers.
She bid him, drawing her left pointer finger to her mouth, "Shhh, let me make you feel good."
She started slow, agonizingly slow, lightly dragging her nails from base to head and back down again. Greg's breath hitched in his throat and he felt his knees go weak. He reached for the desk for support and groaned, "Oh. Ooooh. Uh. Uh."
"Y-y-yes," he hissed.
"Good. Now tell Ms. Bristol what made you so hard while she makes you feel even better."
Greg began to search for a response as he resolved himself to the inevitably of what was happening. He was dully aware of the ground he kept losing. Four months ago the line was: "I will not cheat on my wife," then "I will not fuck my babysitter," then "I will not fuck my babysitter while her roommate watches," before running right past, "I will not have sex in church during a service." Which brought him here, traipsing past the "I will not get a handjob from my kid's teacher," moral boundary.
"I can't hear you," she whispered, beginning to grip and massage him.
"Don't mention Mallory, don't mention Mallory, don't mention Mallory," he thought to himself over and over again, willing himself not to admit his affair with his babysitter to this heavy petting instructor.
"Your eyes," he croaked.
"Your eyes, they're beautiful."
She blushed and glanced away before returning eye contact. "That's sweet. But I have your dick in my hand. We are past the polite courting stage. Tell me what got you hard."
"Legs. Your legs."
"They're just...couldn't stop peeking at them. Long. Skirt just a little too short. Sexy shoes."
"Oh, you like those, do you?"
"I feel bad now...you can't really see my legs when we are both standing. What could I show you to make up for it, I wonder?" she breathily asked, tongue clearly firmly in cheek.
Claire released him for a moment and dragging her hands up her body and slowly unbuttoned her sweater, her cream demi bra peeking out. A flush was spread across he breasts as they rose and fell in rapid time with her breath. "Does this make up for it?" she asked, her voice full of faux-trepidation.
"It—it'll do," Greg said, doing his best to land a joke.
"Mmm, turned on and still having a sense of humor. Very nice."
She licked her lips and wrapped her hands around his cock once again. She stared down at his member in almost rapt fascination while Greg watched her, breasts bouncing as she stroked him. The blush that had begun with him complimenting her eyes had hung around giving her a warm, aroused glow. Her eyes took on a smirking, naughty glimmer. Her lips glistened and her tongue would occasionally peek out to keep them wet. She was living up to her boasts and was quite clearly enjoying it.
Claire dragged her gaze from his member and locked eyes with Greg. He felt his cheeks grow warm and red but could not look away. She slightly altered her grip and rhythm and a burst of pleasure shot through him, curling his toes and forcing a gasp from his lips. She smiled warmly.
"You can touch me, you know?" she offered, voice carrying her need to his ears. He slid his hands between her bra and her skin and began to gently stroke her breasts. She let her head flop back and moaned.
Moments later, Claire whispered, "Do you like them? Do you like my tits?"
"They're wonderful," he reassured her.
She moaned, deeper this time, and pitched herself forward, crushing her lips into his. Her tongue forced itself into his mouth and the two lost themselves to the sensations. There they stood in Claire's classroom, mouths merged, Greg's hands cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples, her right hand pulling his body close, her left hand stroking him with sustained enthusiasm. Greg was aware of the danger, how exposed—literally and otherwise—they were, but he could not help himself. Her hand was soft and smooth, her stroke firm, her mouth warm, wet, and entrancing. His morals collapsed under the weight of her desires and charms.
Claire felt one of Greg's hand leave her breasts and begin to slide down her body. It yanked her skirt upwards and began to tease its way up her thigh before she stopped him, breath heavy with disappointed.
"Uh-uh," she admonished him, "Very tempting, but just you."
"But—" he began.
Claire stopped him right away, "Nope. You touch me like that and there's no way I can stay quiet. I am...a bit too noisy for classroom quickies. Just let me make you cum."
She adjusted her approach again and Greg felt his body shake in response. She pulled him even closer and brought her mouth next to his ear.
"God, you are so hard. So fucking hard," she whispered in a voice of pure, hushed sex, "I love how you feel in my hand. So hot and long and thick."
Greg could only gasp and grunt in response.
"I wish I could just get on my knees and suck your dick right now. Take you in my mouth, take you so deep. Taste you. Feel you fill my throat. Mmm....or fuck you? You got me so wet. I'm dripping. Wish you could just put me on the desk and make me scream. Wrap my legs around you while you fuck me as hard as want and I beg for more. God! So turned on."
"ohmygod, ohgod, ohgod," the doctor babbled.
"Shh," she warned him, "Don't you get noisy now."
She increased her speed.
"You gonna cum for me?" she asked, practically begging, "You gonna cum for Ms. Bristol?"
"I want to. So close."
"Do it. Cum. Cum."
"Ooooo," she replied, eyes widening, "Good point. I'd love it on face. Mmm, or maybe my tits. But now's probably not the time."
She reached behind her and grabbed the mug sitting on the edge of her desk. "You can sweeten my coffee, Greg."
"Oh...oh fuck," he gasped, feeling his body coiling towards climax. "I'm so...you've got me so close. Are you...are you sure?"
"Yessssss," she moaned, "Cum for Ms. Bristol. Fill my mug so I can drink it down. Cum for me."
Greg stiffened and groaned as his seed sprung forth landing on the lip of the mug and then inside it. Claire continued with slowing speed, drawing out every drop of him. The last pulse dribbled down her fingers before she released him. As focus returned to his eyes, she caught his attention and licked her fingers clean while buttoning her shirt with the other hand.
"So bad," he whispered to her, "Trying to turn me on when I'm so clearly spent."
She shrugged, "Eh, can't blame a girl for trying."
Claire reached for him then, kissing him gently on the neck as she gingerly put Greg's exhausted cock back into his boxers and zipped him up.
"Dr. Clark?" a voice, Mallory's voice, said from the door.
Claire subtly took a step back, giving them appropriate distance apart, and shook Greg's hand.
"Again, thanks for coming in, Dr. Clark. Your daughter is a wonderful part of my class."
"And thank you, Ms. Bristol, for taking the time to...umm...going the extra mile today."
She gave him a "you are SO bad" look and replied, "My pleasure, sir. I enjoy helping out truly special parents."
Greg let go of her hand and began to walk towards Mallory and his two kids.
"Oh, and Dr. Clark," Claire called after him, stopping him midstride and forcing him to turn back to her.
"I will be sure to keep in touch, to stay...hands-on, as the year goes on," she teased before taking a long gulp from her coffee mug and throwing him a barely perceptible wink.
After Greg brought his children home where his recently returned wife Gina put them to bed, he brought Mallory back to her apartment. One minute into the drive, she posed the question, "Am I crazy or was there something weird in the air with Ms. Bristol before we left?"
The question took Greg by surprise and he stalled to gather his thoughts, "How so?"
"I...I don't know. She seemed like, too close to you. And the tone in her voice. Oh and you looked so red in the face. Did you guys like...fight or something? Is Shelly in trouble?"
"What? No, no. It's...not that."
"But it was something?" Mallory asked, voice marbled with concern.
Greg heard the fear, exhaled sharply, and told her everything. About the spill, about how he was still hard from the earlier teasing him, about trying to resist and failing, all of it.
"Wow," Mallory sighed when he concluded the story, mentioning how Ms. Bristol drank down her cum laced coffee right in front of all of them.
"Yeah..." he replied, blushing fiercely and feeling terrible.
"That is...SO HOT! God!"
"What? You aren't, I don't know, mad?"
"No. God, no. I mean, I might be a little jealous that she got that load after I did the groundwork. Or that she beat me to getting you off in a classroom. But mad? Never. I told you before, I don't own you. I want you to enjoy yourself. I'm going to be competitive, don't get me wrong. Somebody gets you off, I'm going to try to outdo them as soon as I can. But you getting a naughty handjob from a sexy schoolteacher? I'm SO onboard for that!"
"I...did not expect that."
She smiled at him sweetly and gave him a hug and small kiss, "You are too cute, but you need to pay better attention and trust me more."
She returned to her seat and hummed to herself until the next light where she sighed heavily and announced, "Now I'm horny!"
She slid down in her seat, unbuttoned her black pants and slid them down her hips a bit. Greg tried not to stare at her out of the corner of his eye.
"I'm going to make myself cum right now," she proclaimed, "You can feel free to do whatever the spirits move you to."
She got off one quick orgasm and Greg made it three more blocks before giving in his libido. They pulled into a dark corner of the mall parking lot and retired to the back of the minivan where Mallory rode her employer while he did his best to relive every detail of the Ms. Bristol story again, including what else he'd like to do to her, until both fell in a pile of warm, sweaty, spent limbs and cuddled briefly before beginning the drive again.
As they pulled into her parking lot she smiled dreamily and let Greg know, "I think I might have to pay that Ms. Bristol a visit. She seems like someone I might get along with." Then, with a gentle kiss on his cheek, away she went.