As usual, the Clarks' home on a Sunday morning was a bustle of activity. As Greg sat at the kitchen table reading a book to his two year old son Martin, his wife Gina ran back and forth, getting herself together for church, and trying her best to ignore their five year old daughter Shelly's proactive whining about attending Sunday School.
"But...I'll miss the peace..." she sighed to no one in particular as Gina closed the bathroom door, effectively ending their dialogue.
After pacing for a moment, Shelly realized she had another parent. "Daaaaaaaaaad," she sing-songed, skipping into the room, "Do you think I should have to go to—"
The noisy clatter of the doorbell interrupted her. Try as he might, Greg had never figured out how to change that things tone or volume.
"Sorry, kiddo, looks like we have to table this for now," he told her, mussing her hair slightly and handing her the book he was reading, "Why don't you show Martin how big kids like you read?"
With a dramatic sputter, she took the book and sat next to her brother.
Satisfied that both were suitably distracted he opened the door to see who would be by at this time.
"Good," he began with a smile, "Morning?" He finished sounding significantly more befuddled.
"You should probably pick your jaw up, Doc. The neighbors might talk," Mallory sassed him as she strolled in.
Not able to help himself, he looked her up and down. She was wearing a sundress, a nice fit for the Indian Summer day it was shaping up to be. A white field awash with yellow flowers, sleeveless. He followed the demur—but still tantalizing—neckline of the dress down to about three inches above her knee where it ended. It was made of a light bouncing cotton that fluttered as she walk and settled down nicely to showcase her stare-worthy ass when she stopped. Her tan, toned legs stretch to the floor, ending in feet slid into wedge heels that looked like they were made of wicker. He snapped his eyes back upward, not wanting to be too obviously lecherous in his leering, and attempted to focus on face. She had scrubbed clean quality to her; if she was wearing any makeup at all, it was very subtle. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, secured close to the part with a pair of hair clips.
He forced himself to speak, worried that he had stood for far too long silent not to raise suspicion or, at the least, concern. "Umm, Mallory...did we say we needed you this morning? Because...that was a mistake. We have church so...you are...umm...free to leave."
Mallory giggled at how out of sorts he was. She enjoyed seeing him tongue-tied. Even though he had grown to accept his desire to engage in what others might label some rather unsavory activities with her teenage body, he was still delightfully prone to becoming befuddled when others were around, when she tried things in public, when she tried things when Gina or the kids might be home soon, and so on. Generally, whenever there was some sort of perceived risk on his part that he'd give up the game or get caught. It was nice. It kept the element of the forbidden in "the room," if you will, made her still have to be aggressive and seductive. It was like the best of both worlds: getting to be naughty and in control at times and yielding to being fucked with abandon at others.
"Hey Mallory," Gina said, walking into the kitchen still affixing her earrings. She caught her husband's look of utter confusion and apologized, "Oh, shoot! I totally forgot. Mallory is coming to church with us today."
Greg looked back at Mallory, eyebrow arched.
"Yeah," she confirmed, "My folks' church is pretty judgmental. Boo to gays this, know your place woman that, so I stopped going as soon as I could. But I miss the, I don't know, non-political aspects of the service? Anyway, your wife said your church was pretty progressive so I thought I'd give it a try."
It sounded plausible enough to Greg and had he not, only four days before, had sex with Mallory on her apartment room floor while her roommate watched and, then, participated a bit, he might have bought it. But, by now, he knew that any sudden appearances, requests, or unexpected visits from Mallory usually had another purpose than the stated one. And that purpose usually involved the continued shattering of his moral code. Still it was church. Besides teasing him, she couldn't do much, right?
So he replied, "Sounds good. Let's get going then."
The family plus Mallory piled into the gigantic minivan that Gina insist they buy after Shelly's birth, parents in the front seat, kids in their car seats in the first row bucket seats, Mallory all the way in the back in the middle of the bench seat.
"You can sit closer, Mal," Gina offered when she noticed.
"That's okay Ms. C...I can stretch out back here."
As the doctor began to back up, he quickly noticed, that Mallory had an ulterior motive for her seat choice. She was fully visible to him in his rearview mirror and was taking full advantage of it. Trying to focus on the road, he still found himself stealing glances backwards. Glances that she took every advantage of by pouting naughtily, running her tongue over lips, biting her bottom lip, sliding forward in the seat some so her dress would hike up and show her not very appropriate for church skimpy blue silk underwear. By the time they pulled into the church parking lot, she was caressing her left breast through her dress while teasing herself through her panties. She quickly adjusted herself as they settled into a spot and by the time everyone was out of the car, you couldn't guess by looking at her what she had been up to. She was good.
Mallory lagged behind to walk with Greg when he was done locking up the van, smirking at him as they strolled towards the building.
"That was not very appropriate church behavior," he scolded her without making eye contact, trying not to smirk himself.
"Guess it was a good thing we weren't in church then, huh?" she teased back.
"Humph," he scoffed, "Maybe so. But those panties are not what good girls wear to church."
"I could just take them off," she offered. He only shook his head in response.
"Would it help if I told you that they aren't panties, just a thong?" Again a shake of his head.
"In that case, we may both have to accept I'm not a very good girl."
With that she quickened her pace until she caught up with the rest of the Clarks, making sure to emphasize her hip movements as she went. The doctor did his best to keep his eyes in his head and his tongue in his mouth as he watched her go.
Once inside, Shelly dutifully stomped off upstairs to Sunday school with her mother carrying her brother to daycare close behind. Greg and Mallory stood in the hallways waiting for Gina's return as people milled about them, going upstairs to daycare and Sunday school or heading to the narthex to pick up a program and head into the congregation. Somehow, without his noticing before it was too late, Mallory backed up against him, subtly molding herself to him in a way that looked to the outside observer like two people conserving space in a crowded hallway. Greg, however, was very aware of the ways she'd move her body against him in ways that appeared to be accidental or about letting someone through but were designed to provide maximum friction between them. She smelled strongly of herself, of clean, and of some kind of peppermint bodywash and after a minute, it was all around him, flooding his senses, making his head feel floaty with suppressed desire.
His wife returned looking out of breath and a bit annoyed. "Sorry guys," she said, glancing around, evidently still looking for something, "It looks like whoever was assigned to work the daycare room today is not showing so I'm going to do it. You're on your own for the service."
"Are you sure, Mrs. C?" Mallory asked sweetly, "I can do it for you, if you'd prefer."
"That's very sweet but the whole point of you coming was for you to see the service. Can't do that and run the daycare at the same time," Gina assured her, kissed her husband on the cheek—completely not taking note of how close the babysitter still was to him even though the crowd in the hall had thinned considerably—and headed back upstairs.
Mallory spun to face Greg and smirked, clicking her shoes together, "Looks like it's just the two of us, Doc."
"That it does. Now we are going into a place with tons of people so you will have to be on your best behavior," he ordered her.
"And when am I not?" she replied, playing innocent.
