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—"
