An Interview, of Sorts

"So what," I ask as I follow the Doctor and Aphasia towards reception, marveling at how the pair of them are managing to turn even a wholesome mother-daughter ass-groping session into something competitive, "are we just going to go up and ask nicely? Because that paper of yours is neat, but if they decide to make a phone call or two to double check then we're in trouble." Aphasia moans softly in... agreement? I can't tell if she's making positive noises about my argument or the current situation. "I guess that depends on what sort of questions we ask," the Doctor replies, seemingly completely unaffected by the attentions of her daughter. She gives Aphasia an extra-rough squeeze 'through' her barely-there denim cutoffs - though mainly of the massive amounts of round, juicy asscheek that they leave exposed - and smirks slightly at the latest moan from the younger blonde.

When we arrive at reception I take a quick look around to see if there's anything worth messing with. Strangely, the room is empty except for the receptionist - a platinum blonde girl of a shade not quite as bright as the patients we just saw, pretty in a vaguely artificial way, with plump, glossy lips and a lollipop being rolled around her mouth. She ignores the Doctor as she breaks away from Aphasia and strides up to the large desk, and continues to ignore her as she plants her hands on it and leans over it - too busy staring at her phone. The Doctor smiles, swings herself up onto the desk, and settles herself onto her hands and knees. "Excuse me, miss, but can you help me with something?" The receptionist jumps in her chair and looks up...

"Does this dress make my arse look big?"

...and straight at the Doctor's gently-swaying rear. Her breath catches in her throat at the sight of the Doctor's massive, twerk-addicted bubble butt, her body twitching slightly as its hypnotic properties take hold of her mind. She whimpers softly and her - for lack of a better term - dick-sucking lips part slightly as she relaxes, her thoughts going in circles as they're caught in the inescapable orbit of the Doctor's mesmerising ass. "S-Such a big ass," the murmur slips out around her lollipop like she can't stop it, almost reverent in tone as the Doctor tugs the hem of her dress up, "such a big fucking ass..." Aphasia stares slack-jawed at her mother's cheeks, looking like she wants nothing more than to bury her face between them and lick until the Doctor's brain melts, but she snaps out of it as the older blonde beckons her over.

"Brilliant," she smiles at the receptionist, lazily swinging her hips up and down, "I just love it when my clothes make it pop! Just keep watching, okay?" Aphasia slips around the desk and begins working at the bulky desktop that had been so neglected when we arrived, ass swinging left and right as she nibbles on her bottom lip in concentration. "So," the Doctor asks softly, her bare labia visibly reddening with arousal, "what are you watching? It must be really good if you were so focused on it." The receptionist nods dazedly, licking her lips. "Sandi Suxxx," she murmurs, "she's, like, such a h-h-hawt, ah..." I raise an eyebrow at the wisps of bubblegum-pink light that are rising from her face and swirling towards her phone. "...c-cawksuckaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

A tendril of pink lighting springs from the each of the corners of her phone screen and latches onto a different point on the edge of her face, making me take a step back to avoid any potential collateral as the Doctor's eyes widen in surprise and she pulls the sonic screwdriver from her cleavage. The receptionist moans loudly in pleasure as an invisible **** starts to mold her features behind the glare of a torrent of pink light rushing into the phone, before the device sparks and dies to the familiar hum of the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor holds it active for a few seconds more, before tucking it away again and hopping off the desk to take a look at the now noticeably artificial face of the receptionist.

"Whu? You're, like," the girl's breathe hitches and she giggles before continuing, "thuper hawt! Th... Th... Oh! My lipth are, like, thuper thick!" She pops a finger between them and moans happily, slipping another in and pumping away happily as her eyes flutter shut and she ignores the Doctor's attempts to get her attention again. "Right," she says firmly, grabbing the receptionist's phone and tucking that into her cleavage too - somehow without showing any sign of it in the tightly-cut dress, "we need to get going before we get in trouble. You got everything?" Aphasia hums in acknowledgement and vaults the desk theatrically. "Back to the TARDIS," the Doctor announces, "I've got an ide-AH!" She jumps as my hand crashes into her bare ass.

"Clothes first, Doctor."

She tugs down the hem, as much to try and hide how much wetter she just got as to preserve her modesty, and practically jogs out of the front doors, Aphasia following with a roll of her eyes and a wiggle of her hips.