Dr. Clark answered the door in a pair of khaki linen shorts and a green t-shirt. His face conveyed a tired anxiety, the kind that grew out of a sleeplessness spent rehearsing what he was going to say.
Mallory, on the other hand, was the picture of relaxed cheerfulness. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, clean and well kempt in an unfussy manner. She was dressed to enjoy the early fall warmth in a pale blue sleeveless v-neck, cutoff jean shorts, and flip flops. She smiled widely, almost visibly pulsating with positive excitement. Then, seeing the look on Greg's face, her own fell a bit.
Feeling guilty for ruining her good mood, he smiled back awkwardly and made a show of welcoming her, swinging his arm wide and bowing at the waist. She strolled in, looking around the room.
"Where's the family?" she asked, depositing her bag on the couch.
"Day care, school, work...the usual," the Doc replied succinctly. He did not want to lose his momentum on chitchat.
"Right, right," she said, looking about before turning back to him and looking him dead in the eyes, "So, I'm here to talk about the Daddy thing, huh?"
Greg was surprised at her astute guess and fell over himself to respond, "Well...I mean....well, yes."
"Did you not like it?" she asked, cocking her head to the side, a challenge playing across her lips.
He tried to get his bearing back, taking two quick breaths, before replying, "Up there, it was amazing. Surprising, super dirty, sexy. But since..."
She mumbled, worried, "You think I'm weird?"
"What? No, no."
"Sick?"
"Absolutely not, Mallory," he objected, reaching for her comfortingly.
"Then what? You came, I came. You felt great about it afterwards. We giggled and made dirty jokes in front of Gina. So what is the problem?!" she spat at him, building up steam as she went.
"I need to make sure no one hurt you!" he blurted back.
"What?!"
"I needed to make sure that you didn't call me Daddy because—"
"You think my father abused me?"
"I don't think anything. I just...I needed to check. Younger girl attracted to older man, at times hyper sexualized, calls her lover 'Daddy' in the middle of sex..."
Mallory began to chuckle then laugh in response.
"Look, I had to be sure, Mal. I don't want to be taking advantage of you by perpetuating a cycle that—"
"Stop," she whispered reassuringly, "Let me talk."
Mallory pushed him gently onto the couch and sat on his lap, draping her arms on his shoulders and making easy eye contact.
"First, I think it is so cute you are worried like this. It makes me feel really...special. So thank you. Second, you are aware that calling someone Daddy while they fuck you in a semi dominant way is not an entirely new sexual practice, yes?"
"Well...yes....of course."
"And that many, if not a large majority, of these people asking for 'Daddy' to fuck them harder, faster, etc etc were not abused by anyone, nevermind their fathers? That many, if not a majority, of them come from stable homes with loving families?"
He shrugged and nodded.
"Okay, good. For me, the answer is no. I've never been abused, sexually or otherwise. My father's a good guy who has been there for me throughout my life and never been too strict or too lenient. I just had an impulse and I went with it. Me saying 'Daddy' is no more indication that I have sex with my father than you enjoying me saying it is an indication you want to have sex with your kids."
He breathed out in relief.
"That's...I'm glad. I'm sorry. I just got to thinking and—"
"I know you did," she cooed, rubbing his head and pushing her head into his neck, "And I really do appreciate it. But I'm having sex with you because I think you are hot and you fuck well. There's no family psychosexual drama I am still working out. I promise. Besides, you are older but you are not OLDER, you know what I mean?"
"Right. Yeah...ok. I guess I'm a little young for that—"
She cut him off, smirking, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I still think you are like SUPER old."
He chuckled from deep within his chest at that, the tension unspooling. "Well, sure. That makes sense," he concurred.
After a moment of mutual giggling, they separated. Mallory smiled widely up at Greg and asked, "So, empty house, huh?"
He nodded, an irrepressible grin separating his lips.
She rose to her tiptoes and breathed in his ear, "That's liable to give a girl ideas." She spun away from him and flopped on the couch, stretching her body provocatively.
"What kind of ideas, young lady?" Greg hammed up in reply.
"I...want...to..." she paused between each word, enjoying seeing the Doctor almost lean forward he was so heavily hanging on her every word and then rushed the last few words, "watch the movie."
He arched his eyebrows in disbelief. "Are you sure that's the best use of this time?"
"Plllllllllllllllease?" she pouted.
He sighed and nodded, "Fine, fine."
The "movie" was something Mallory had learned about weeks earlier. Alice, the other "Almost"—one of the women who Greg had almost slept with before he settled down with Gina—was an actress and acting teacher who had made at one point, made a very indie movie full of mumbling and bad lighting.
The babysitter didn't care about all that though. The reason she wanted to see it was Alice danced around in her underwear. And get naked...a lot. And simulated sex acts. She knew all about how Greg and Alice had connected the same summer the doctor first met Gina after he'd seen Alice in some musical. How they had wild chemistry and spent months all over each other when they were together and emailing each other dirty messages when they weren't. Eventually, Greg felt he had to choose between Alice and Gina. Alice seemed disinterested in anything serious so Greg chose Gina.