The Reawaening of Dr. Clar

"Alright, I dropped the kids off at your parents' house so that's all set," Gina told Greg as he walked through the door, kissing him on the cheek, "Sally should be here in like 30 minutes to pick me up for the casino. What time are you heading out?"

With some amount of regularity, Gina and Greg would leave Martin and Shelly with his parents and go out with their friends. When they were married, and then again after they had Shelly, the couple had promised one another that they would not become homebodies, only spending time with each other and the kids, or worse, be one of those couples that gets rid of their long time friends to hang out with their kids' classmates' and daycare mates' parents. Gina went to one of the nearby casinos where she and her friends could shop, eat, get drunk, do some gambling and then crash at the onsite hotel. Greg's plans were less consistent. This time out he was meeting some buddies for tennis, hitting a pub for trivia, and then going to Fred's to play video games in his home theatre room.

"Not for awhile," Greg said, glancing at the clock in the family room. "We don't have the courts until 8:30 so I'm probably gonna grab a nap beforehand."

"You could do that...but I do have a half hour until Sally gets here," Gina said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmmhmm," she said, nodding and smiling widely.

Wordlessly, he literally swept her off her feet while kissing her deeply and deposited her on a nearby couch. As they kissed and undressed one another, the doc tried to keep his mind on the task at hand. Only three days earlier, he had finger fucked his teenage babysitter to orgasm, making sure she felt his wedding ring on her clit with every stroke, while she jacked him off all over her leg. His once perfectly satisfactory sex life with his attractive wife now felt...perfunctory. They had chemistry still, they fit together well, they knew little tricks to excite one another, but...it was suddenly somehow lacking. Mallory had reminded Greg of things he had given up on because his wife had made her lack of interest in them very clear. Dirty talk. Keeping her pussy shaved or at least trimmed. High heels. Etc. Etc.

Thus, the sex life and the marriage he had thought were perfectly fine had been thrown into disarray in his mind. Good enough was no longer good enough. And so, as they kissed and moaned, as she rolled the condom onto him and pulled inside her, as they came together on that couch, Greg felt good, but not great. Which made him feel terrible: guilty and angry all at once. Guilty for what he had done and what he wanted to keep doing. Angry at himself for being such a husband/father cliché. Angry at his wife for shutting down so many avenues in their sex life. And then angry at himself again for not fighting her harder on those forbidden items way back when. It really took all the fun out of a late afternoon quickie.

As they both came down to earth, Gina sighed into his chest and thanked him, "I needed that. I SO needed that."

Greg affected a short laugh saying, "Me too," even though he did not feel nearly as satisfied as she seemed.

After another moment of cuddling, Gina rose, snapping the condom off him and gathering her clothes up. She then loped, naked and confident, to the bathroom. As Greg watched her he tried to tick off the features and attributes he loved about her. Unfortunately, his brain seemed to have a rapid undermining response for each one.

"She's in great shape."

"Yeah, but think of how much better she'd look if she sexed up her clothes a bit, maybe gave you a sexy show every now and then."

"She has very sexy underwear."

"That you feel a lot more than you ever see between her generally keeping the lights off and, again, not really showing them off."

"She and I cum at almost the same time every time."

"Yeah, in the exact same way, too. When's the last time you got a blowjob? She cums from your fingers, your mouth, your tongue, and then your cock. She won't even throw you a handie when she's on her period."

Before long, his reasonably optimistic voice was completely overwhelmed and his mind started to do a mental checklist of Mallory's positives. There was no voice that argued in this case.

"Talks dirty. So dirty."

"Wears sexy clothes and underwear and seems willing to show them off."

"Great heels."

"Definitely doesn't have a problem with blowjobs or handjobs."

"Pretty sure she has a navel ring. God I love those."

"Her tits are incredible."

With a frustrated groan, Greg peeled himself off the couch and headed to his shower, shouting an, "I love you and I'll see you tomorrow" to Gina before locking himself in the bathroom. Fifteen minutes, a hot shower, and a long look in the mirror later, the doctor exited into the master bedroom feeling re-composed and ready for a nap. This sense of calm and composure lasted but a moment.

Before him on the bed he took in the sight of a pair of bare, tan legs. The left was bent at the knee, the right crossed over it. On the right foot, a black stiletto shoes dangled, the foot casually bouncing back and forth. Greg stifled a sound, part groan, part moan, part lusty growl. He knew those legs did not belong to his wife, but had a fairly good guess who they did belong to.

Roused by the sound, the legs' owner parted them slightly to see who came in. Greg's fearful desire was confirmed. Mallory lay across the Clarks' bed, her blond hair tussled in a deliberately carefree sexy way. As she saw him, she broke into a broad grin, giggled a moment, kicked off the lone shoe, and bounded off the mattress.

"Well, hello, Greg," she practically cooed, "You are looking...fit."

As she strode towards him, he could not help but drag his eyes all over her body. She was dressed in nothing but a white strapless bra and a simple pair of white tangas. Her skin remained the light tan color he had observed a few days prior, with hints of tanlines on her bouncing cleavage and just above the band of her panties. Her cheeks blushed slightly, betraying a brewing arousal. As his eyes focused on her taut stomach, he confirmed that her belly button was indeed pierced, a shining flower have nestled in her navel. She moved with a light but deliberate motion, conveying excitement and control simultaneously.

"Mallory...what are you...how long have you been..." he began haltingly, breaking off questions here and there, never reaching their ending.

Before replying, she stretched onto the tips of her toes and gently pushed her lips to his throat, just below the Adam's apple, then to the right of his face where his jaw met his neck, and finally, brushed against his lips, her tongue teasingly whispering across his top lip as she lowered her feet fully back onto the floor.

"First," she said, still smiling, "I've been here long enough to see why the Mrs. always seems to have a nice bounce in her step."

"You saw me..."

"Have sex with your wife? Yes. And don't worry, I'm not jealous or anything. I actually enjoyed it. I'm not here to steal you from her, you understand, right? I'm here to...supplement your marriage. You, Doc, clearly give Gina exactly what she likes and needs, but as far as I can see she's not as...sharing. And a great guy like you? He deserves to have at least someone in his life who's willing to...indulge him a bit. You deserve to be made love to, to have sex with, and to be fucked. And your wife...she's just not the fucking type, is she?"

Greg could not think of what to say. He felt compelled to defend Gina, but Mallory was exactly right. In all the years they were together, they had made love, had had sex, but really, had never fucked. And if they did, they certainly never called it that because Gina did not like the word.

Seeing his dilemma, his college coed babysitter shushed him. "Don't worry...I'm not asking you to indict her...I already know the answer. This wouldn't be happening if I didn't."

"What wouldn't be happening?" Greg managed to croak.

"This," she responded, thrusting her mouth back over his, crushing her body fully against his own. Her tongued danced into his mouth, darting over his own tongue, running along the back of his teeth. It was too much. His mind never even contemplated resisting. He pulled Mallory tighter to me. He swore he could feel an electric charge pass through as he clasped his hands around her bare waist. She coaxed his tongue out of his mouth and into her's where she sucked on it with a kind of hungry lust. She ran her nails down his chest, feeling his body pleasantly shudder with awakening in response. She could not help but moan as his excitement fed her own.

Still, she broke the kiss after a few moments more. It would be easy enough to just lose control now, but she had more plans for her boss, her conquest. As she once again returned to flat feet, Greg looked down at her with a slightly glazed look that betrayed how much of his mind had been shut down by his desire for her.

"I was going to ask if you needed a little more time to recover from putting it on your wife," she teased, grinding against him through his towel, "But I can feel that that is not an issue for you at all."

She swiveled her hips a few more rotations, absentmindedly tangling her hand into her own hair before turning away and taking Greg by the hand.

"Come here, sir," Mallory instructed him. "You and I are going to have so much fun."

Upon reaching the bed, she laid horizontally across it, languidly wrapping her legs around the back of the still standing Greg's knees. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him, almost as if she was memorizing him. Disentangling her right leg, she began to explore him with her toes and foot, sliding up his leg, over the towel, and up onto his chest. She would pause occasionally to draw light concentric circles over random places on the doctor's body, thrilling to his involuntary reactions, the undeniable jump of his cock underneath the towel. He stood as if mesmerized, eyes wide and darting over her body, drinking in every curve, every muscle, every freckle.

"I can't help but notice, Doctor Clark, that you seem to be spending a lot of time looking at my stomach. Do you like it?"

"Very...very much."

"Why?"

"I...always have thought the space between a woman's navel and the waistline of whatever she's wearing is...umm...so sexy."

"You do, do you? And that goes even for a little girl like me?" she asked, taunting him.

"You're not...not a little girl."

"Are you sure, Doc? I am just 19. You don't see me as a naughty girl?"

He sighed heavily in response. It was the sigh of a man who knew something shouldn't turn him on but still did.

"You are a woman," he offered halfheartedly.

"Ooo. And what kind of woman am I?"

"I...I don't understand?"

"What kind of woman am I? Am I a pretty one? A nice one? A sexy one?" she paused, biting her lower lip and then exhaling in a sensual growl, "A slutty one?"

His cock visibly jumped underneath the towel as he stumbled over finding an acceptable response.

"Nevermind, you just gave me my answer," she giggled and then inquired, cocking her head slightly to the side, "Do you like my belly button ring?"

"I do. It's...very nice."

"Just very nice? Not sexy or hot?"

"Umm....those too. Both."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"...yes."

"I knew you'd like it. I knew it would turn you on. I heard your wife talking to a friend one day about how she once promised you she'd get one if you did something for her. You followed through, she got scared of the possible pain and chickened out. But you were such a good guy you never gave her a hard time for not keeping her word. Is that true?"

"Well...I guess."

"Even though she promised? Even though you held up your end of the bargain? Even though a navel piercing on a sexy woman is tremendous turn-on for you?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't going to make her—"

Mallory cut him off before he could finish, "Nor should you have to. I'll just tell you now, anything I promise I'll do for you, I will do. No excuses. For instance, right now, I promise that I will sneak into your bedroom one night and fuck you while your wife sleeps blissfully unaware next to us. You like that idea, don't you?"

Greg said nothing and so she asked again, "Don't you?"

"It...sounds dangerous."

"It does, doesn't it? Dangerous. And bad, too. Like something only a filthy girl would do?"

"Prob...Probably."

"And you like that I'm just that kind of filthy girl? The kind that will somehow cum even harder if she gets to ride her man's cock while staring at his wife's sleeping face?"

"Oh god...I shouldn't..."

"But?"

"But I do."

"Mmmmm...I knew you would."

By this point, Mallory's foot was resting on the not so-good doctor's shoulder. She called attention to it, "I just painted my toes yesterday. The color's called Blue Flash. Do you like it?"

"I do."

"Good. How about you show me what you do with your wife's feet that she likes so much she brags to Ms. Martin down the street about it."

Wordlessly, Greg complied, rubbing his hands up and down her calf as he brought her foot to his mouth. He licked her heel first, tentatively, and then became increasingly bold, running his tongue the length of her sole, in between each toe, sucking each toe into his mouth, even dragging his teeth along the arch of her foot. Mallory tried to watch him but quickly became overwhelmed with the sensation. She dropped her head backwards, moaned, dug her fingers into the comforter. She kept with the pleasure shooting from her foot up her leg and through her body as long as she could without squirming.

The she pulled her leg away from him, gasping, "That was...unexpectedly enjoyable. I wish I had more time for it today. But we have more pressing business."

"What?"

"This," she said and deftly undid his towel with her foot, revealing him as fully naked. Mallory lightly rubbed her toes across the top of his cock before letting her leg drop back down to behind his knee once more.

"Beautiful," she whispered, mostly to herself.

"Yes, you are," he replied, brain on autopilot, eyes fixed on hers.

"Mmm...what a flatterer," she giggle, "I bet you say that to all the babysitters."

Wordlessly, she reached behind her back and undid her bra. It clung to her high, proud breasts for an agonizing second before slipping away. Her nipples small, taut, the perfect shade of rosy pink. A flush spread over her chest, beginning just below her collarbone on either side and spreading to the tops of her tits and the small valley between them. He could see her stomach quiver ever so slightly betraying both her desire and her anxiety about whether her toplessness would please him.

"They're smaller than hers, aren't they?" Mallory cooed, her voice low and sexy, but not so much that one couldn't hear a slight hint of worry in it.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Now, Doc, I've heard men prefer women with larger breasts. Given that, I hope mine aren't—" she began.

Greg interrupted her, "They're beautiful, Mal. Absolutely beautiful."

She smiled, bright, confident, and a touch wicked. "Touch me," she ordered.

And he did. It had been so long since he touched another woman, he could feel his hands shake. Part of it wanted to run from the room, to jump his car, to get away. He had done wrong but there was still time to stop this train. He didn't have to become the cliché, the father that fucks the babysitter.

But the rest of him knew it was already too late. It was the moment Mallory snuck into the shower that day, the moment she had set her sights on him. He knew she was attractive, aesthetically speaking, but had never once fantasized about her, leered at her, until that day. And since then, he was consumed by her. In one bravura move, she had altered him, let loose all his pent up desires and fantasies and now seemed dedicated to making each and every one of them a reality. He wished he could go back to being the good husband, the one who accepts vanilla sex with his attractive wife and "forgets" all his wants that she deemed too dirty or gross or wrong or whatever. But that was not really an option. Especially with Mallory writhing below him at his touch, moaning, biting her lip, and whispering promises of future debaucheries, of desires quenched and reignited again and again.

For her part, Mallory almost could not believe it. Doctor Clark had always been a great guy in her eyes, good with his kids and careful to make time for them, conscientious about doing his fair share of household chores, treating his wife lovingly, making sure to surprise with small gifts or kind words here and there. And, on top of it, he never seemed to even have a wandering eye. Mallory would bring friends by to use the pool and he smile and wave but never stared at the teens in their suits, never made excuses to hang around. An smart, attractive man in his thirties, older but not too old, who was dedicated to his family and, unlike most of the other dads she babysat for over the years, never once made a move on her or tried to get a peek of extra skin; it was no wonder she crushed on him so hard.

And then she started to see the cracks in the Clarks' marriage. She knew compromise was necessary to make relationships work, but she only saw Greg compromising. Things seemed perfectly to Gina's liking. Mallory would listen to Gina on the phone or peek in her diary and see that Greg went down on her often and enthusiastically while the last time she had given him a blowjob to climax was five years prior. Dr. Clark forgot to clean his search history and she found that he was quite a fan of dirty talk and listened to audio files and read stories filled with them, but later she'd overhear Greg telling his friends that the Clark household was a verbal obscenity free-zone. The more Mallory looked, the more she saw it. It was a perfect marriage because Gina got want she wanted and Greg had managed to convince himself it was what he wanted too. That's why she decided to join him in that shower. He needed a wake-up call and she figured there was no better way to wake someone up than with a surprise blowjob.

She was right.

Dr. Clark dragged his fingertips lightly across her nipples and she shuddered involuntarily, goosebumps washing over her body. There would be time for foreplay some other day. Right now, she needed to be fucked. So she told him so.

"God, Doc, I'm so wet for you!" she practically shouted, shooting up on the bed and grabbing his cock, "I need this now!"

He thrust his hand between her legs and grabbed the fabric of her panties, yanking them away from her body. She shimmied left and right, kicked her legs in the air, did whatever she could to help get them off her. As she felt the soaked white tangas finally glide over her toes and drop on the floor she could not help but proclaim a victorious, "Yes!"

"Are you going to fuck this cunt, Doctor Clark?" she demanded, legs spreading, exposes herself to his gaze, "Are you going to fuck this naughty, wet, teen cunt?"

"Is that what you want?" he whispered in response. The last time he talked dirty to a woman was college, which was also the last time he had been with a woman who was not Gina, the last time he had seen a bare pussy in person, the last time he had been with someone who wanted him to indulge in every dirty desire he had as well as fulfilling her every nasty craving. So, he was out of practice.

Mallory could tell, though, that he was eager to get back up to speed and so she proceeded to tease it out of him.

"I'm sorry, what was that old man?"

"I said, is that what you want?"

"Is what, what I want?"

"Is me fucking your...cunt what you want?"

"Oh, you know it is. Is that what you want? To fuck your slut babysitter in the bed where you sleep with your wife?"