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."
"Also true."
"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?"
"Yes."
"My body...does it turn you on?"
"Yes."
"Can I assume then that you enjoy what I do to you with this naked body and what I let you do to me?"
"Yes."
"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.
"In?"
"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.'"
"I...I guess."
