Fake Doctor

Pulling into Diane and Kyle's driveway, Tyler spotted Diane through the kitchen window—bent over the sink in nothing but Kyle’s oversized basketball jersey, scrubbing a pan. The hem barely covered her ass. Tyler adjusted himself before stepping out. Time to test a theory.

"Knock knock," he called, pushing the unlocked door open. Diane yelped, spinning—the jersey riding up to expose a sliver of black thong. Her cheeks pinkened as she tugged it down. "Tyler! Kyle’s not here."

"I know," Tyler lied smoothly, leaning against the counter. His fingers drummed the marble. "Just came to... check on you." Diane blinked, soap bubbles clinging to her wrists. "That’s sweet!" she chirped. "But I’m fine!"

Tyler’s gaze flicked to her thighs—plush, dimpled—where the jersey’s fabric stretched taut. "How’s school?" she asked brightly, rinsing a plate. Water droplets slid down her forearms. Tyler smirked. School. Like they were discussing his algebra grade. "Stressful," he said, stepping closer. "Lots of... hands-on projects." His fingers grazed her hip—lightning quick—as he reached past her for a dish towel. Diane shivered but didn’t pull away.

Diane looked at Tyler, "And what about life after school, honey? Are you planning to go to college?" Tyler smiled, his fingers lingering on the towel as he stepped closer. "Oh, I've got plans," he murmured, eyes dragging down the curve of her waist. "Very... hands-on studies." Diane giggled—oblivious—as she wrung out the sponge. Water dripped onto her bare feet, her toes curling against the tile.

Tyler snatched the sponge from her hand. "Actually," he said, pressing it back into her palm but keeping his fingers wrapped around hers, "I'm self-studying to become a doctor." Diane's eyes lit up. "Really? That's so ambitious!" Tyler smirked, guiding her soapy hand toward his chest. He pressed her palm flat against his pecs, letting her feel the muscle beneath. "Anatomy first," he said, voice low. "Starting with... patient examination techniques." Diane blinked, her fingers flexing against him. "Oh! Like—like checking pulses?"

"Yeah, exactly!" Tyler explained, as if to a child. "But as a prospective doctor, I need to learn to help my patients in every way possible." Diane lit up. "How? You mean you study everything?" Tyler seized his opportunity. "Exactly. I am almost an expert on every part of the human body." Suddenly, Diane's faced scrunched up, deep in thought. "What's wrong?" Tyler asked, faking sympathy. Diane hesitated before speaking. "Well...'