Plain Jane

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A wealthy playboy learns love is more than looks.
  • June 2016 monthly contest
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komrad1156
komrad1156
3,777 Followers

*Author's note: My dental hygienist is a hottie and the basis for this story. She's also a huge flirt even though she's married. On my first visit we got into a very deep discussion about love, looks, sex, and pretty much anything else one can discuss in that arena. She confessed to having had an affair when she and her husband were once separated for a few months. (She shared that me but not him.) She also made it clear she was still very open to the possibility of another affair—with the right guy. She now schedules an extra thirty minutes just so we can talk and were I not crazy in love with someone...

*****

"Good morning and welcome to Dr. McClain's office," the receptionist said cheerfully as he entered the building.

He smiled at her and could immediately tell she was a genuinely cheerful person. She was also reasonably attractive, but not someone he would ever call beautiful. Even so, there was something about her he found appealing as she looked up at him.

"Hi, I'm Dean Pierson. I have a 9 o'clock appointment."

She had a very nice smile, long, straight hair, and she was pleasant without being perky—a trait in women that drove him crazy. She looked to be fairly tall for a girl, something that didn't drive him crazy. She was a bit on the thin side without being skinny and rather um...light 'upstairs'—two more things he saw as strikes against her. He guessed her to be in her late-20s and maybe just a little too old for his tastes so three strikes and she was out. Even so, she was reasonably cute and meeting her was a great start to a visit he'd dreaded for as long as he could remember. He hadn't had a cavity in over twenty years, but going to the dentist, even for an exam and a cleaning, still made his skin crawl.

"Right," she said. "Let's see. I have you down with Lindsay as your hygienist, if that's okay?"

"I'm new so I'm sure that'll be just fine," he told her.

She smiled and again said very pleasantly, "If you can just fill out this paperwork for me, I'll have Lindsay take you back to meet the doctor and then she'll take care of your cleaning."

"I will if you'll tell me your name first," he said smiling back at her.

"I'm so sorry!" she said sincerely. She blushed slightly, but Pierson was so used to that he rarely even noticed anymore. "I get so wrapped up in forms and appointments and trying to learn the names of new patients, I sometimes forget to introduce myself. I'm Jessica. Jessica Lyman."

He took the clipboard and pen she offered him and said with a pleasant smile, "Well it's very nice to meet you, Jessica."

"Thank you and same here, Mr. Pierson," she said. "And I really am sorry."

"No problem," he told her still smiling as he sat down and flipped through the stack of forms. As he did, he heard whispers carrying into the lobby from the billing desk which was just past the receptionist's area. "Oh, my God! Have you seen this guy here before, Jessica?"

He heard the receptionist say in a hushed tone, "No. This is his first visit. And can you please keep your voice down, Grace? Sound really travels in here."

A face poked out from behind an internal window pretending to take a casual look around before disappearing. Pierson heard the same voice speak in a slightly quieter but still-audible voice saying, "He's gorgeous! You gave him to Lindsay, didn't you? You bitch!" Jessica winced slightly hoping none of the patients, especially Mr. Pierson, heard what she said. He didn't look up but could tell she'd glanced over at him to see if he'd reacted in any way. He didn't. He just kept filling out forms and pretended to be oblivious.

That last comment was followed by the same voice quietly calling out in hushed tones, "Lindsay! Hey, come here for a sec, okay?"

Several seconds later he heard yet another new voice. "He's my patient? Oh, thank you, God!" followed by, "Thank you, Jessica. I so owe you!"

He heard the receptionist say in her own hushed tone, "Lindsay—what are you doing? Put that back on!"

"Mind your own business, Jessica," he heard the newest voice say.

He smiled and kept working on the half dozen forms now required to be seen by a dentist. He checked 'yes' to 'are you pregnant' just to see if anyone bothered to even read them then continued plowing through the paperwork. He stood up, let Jessica know he was finished, then set the clipboard down and returned her pen.

Before he could sit back down the inner door opened and he saw her. "Hi! I'm Lindsay and I'll be taking you back for your exam and cleaning."

She looked to be in her early-to-mid-20s which was his ideal age range. Although Pierson had dated scores of very attractive women, even he was caught off guard by Lindsay. She was maybe 5' 8" and possibly 115 pounds. He couldn't see all of her because of the hygienist garb she was wearing, but what he could see made him unable not to stare. She had silky, naturally-blonde hair that was swept up high framing one of the prettiest faces he'd ever seen and Pierson had seen plenty of them.

He'd lost track of the number of women people had described to him as 'looking like a model' as though saying that that held some kind of special significance. To him, many models were frail and sickly-looking and they rarely smiled—probably because they were hungry all the time. Therefore, it was somewhere between meaningless and a negative to be compared to a model in his world. But in this case...

She had the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen and those naturally long, sexy eyelashes. Then there were the high cheekbones, the soft, full lips, the perfectly straight, utterly white teeth, all coupled with the rarest of perfect facial symmetry. She was as flawless a woman as he'd ever seen and that was before he saw the perfect set of what had to be full C-cup boobs over a tight, narrow waist.

As he followed her, he checked out her tight, round ass and fell totally into lust. "I see this is your first time with us, Mr. Pierson. Who did you see before Dr. McClain?"

"Alpine Dentistry," he told her.

"Yeah, they don't exactly have the best reputation. We're getting quite a few of their patients."

"I understand why. I heard them giving the same pitch to three different customers on the virtues of a deep cleaning."

"Which 98% of them don't need."

"But which costs a lot more."

Lindsay laughed and said, "Exactly. Okay, I'll get you set up right in here, take your x-rays, then go get the doctor."

She took a total of six pictures then told him she'd be right back. A couple of minutes later, a guy of about 40 or so—Pierson guessed him to be roughly his same age—came in and offered him his hand. "Mr. Pierson. I'm Jonathan McClain. It's nice to meet you. I understand you've created quite a stir around here this morning."

"Oh, you caught me," Pierson said.

There were some giggles before the dentist looked up and said, "Ladies, don't you have patients waiting for you?"

"Sorry, doctor," one of them said followed by more giggling as they walked away.

"We caught you?" he asked seeking clarification.

"Yeah, I marked 'yes' to being pregnant. Sorry. That's just me and my sense of humor, such as it is."

Lindsay shrugged her shoulders then flipped through his file and laughed. "Oh, yes. Here it is. I definitely missed it. Okay. Ha-ha. You got me."

"I wasn't referring to that," the dentist said nodding toward the place where the other hygienists had been standing to get another look at him. "I'm assuming that happens fairly often to you, Mr. Pierson?"

"I guess," he replied nonchalantly. Really good-looking people often took their looks for granted and Pierson was guilty on both counts. It was a bit like being rich. Once you had a lot of money, it was no big deal except to other people who found out you were loaded.

The dentist smiled and raised an eyebrow before moving on. They exchanged pleasantries before Lindsay rattled off the reasons Mr. Pierson was in for his first visit. The dentist thanked her then began the exam. Two minutes later he said, "Everything looks great, Mr. Pierson. Just a little build-up behind the bottom teeth. Lindsay will get you all cleaned up then we'll see you again in six months." He snapped off his latex glove and extended his hand one more time.

"Okay, my turn," Lindsay said flashing Pierson a perfect, gorgeous smile.

As she leaned over him and began looking at his teeth she asked, "So what do you do, Mr. Pierson?"

He waited for her to pull back her instruments and said, "I'm an architect. I own my own firm, actually. I design homes and commercial buildings so if you and your husband need plans for a home..." He nodded to the picture of her and a man he assumed was her husband that was on a small shelf on the wall to their right.

She looked where he was nodding and said, "Oh, right. That's Nick. He and I are separated."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he told her secretly happy to learn she was possibly available. He never hit on married women, but he also never refused one who hit on him if she was attractive enough and Lindsay was absolutely gorgeous. Being separated made things a little easier for his already low bar with regard to moral standards.

She went to work on his mouth and during the first short break he asked her, "So...how did you end up here cleaning teeth?"

"It's kind of a long story that involves my husband," she said nodding back toward the picture frame.

"I have as much time as you do," he said stating the obvious as she continued probing.

"Well...I was going to college full-time and believe it or not, I did some modeling on the side to pay for my tuition."

"Oh, I definitely believe you," he told her. "And I'm not surprised."

"Oh, well thank you. That was a long time ago," she said.

Pierson laughed to himself about they way younger people referred to time. To them, five years was a long time ago while to him, it was nothing. Then again, he could remember being 25 himself and saying the same kinds of things to make himself seem older and more experienced.

"Anyway, Nick was—and still is—a photographer and he was doing a shoot I was a part of and unlike most of the other guys I'd worked with, he was really nice. He never yelled, he never lost his patience, and he smiled all the time. I remember thinking he wasn't that great looking, but he was kind of cute and after the shoot, I started talking to him. He seemed really nice and I found myself sort of attracted to him in a way that didn't make any sense."

"Because of the difference in physical attractiveness?" he offered believing that to be correct.

"Um...well, yeah. It probably sounds snobbish to say it, but since all of my friends—and his friends—all agreed, I guess maybe it isn't snobbish but rather just true? But yeah, I can honestly say had he not been so nice I'd have never given him a second look. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't unattractive..."

He thought about Jessica and girls like her. They weren't bad looking, they just weren't what he was always looking for. With that in mind he said, "He just wasn't in your league. I get it. And it isn't snobbish if it's the truth. It's a bit like being accused of libel or slander. It may be mean, but if it's true, then no crime was committed. You're flat out gorgeous and having seen what he looks like, what you're saying makes sense."

"That's really sweet of you considering I could say the same thing about you," she told him with a very sweet-sounding tone of voice. She pointed toward the picture with the instrument in her hand and said, "So yeah, that's Nick. That was taken just after we got married."

Pierson looked up at the photo and saw the beautiful hygienist standing next to a guy who looked to be around her same age. She'd described him perfectly. Not a bad-looking guy at all. Even then, he was already losing his hair and Pierson could easily picture what the intervening years had done. He hadn't been close to his wife in terms of looks and the gap had to have grown. She was a true 10 if such a thing actually existed and a 9.5 if they didn't. Like Jessica, her husband was a solid 7 or 7.5 and next to most any other girl, he'd be considered a good-looking guy. Just not next to her.

"He's your soon-to-be-ex-husband and you keep a picture of him at work? Do you still have feelings for him?"

"Feelings? Yes. Romantic feelings? No. That picture reminds me every day of the mistake I made and that's why I keep it there." Pierson didn't ask any follow-up questions, so she continued. "Anyway, after a while he asked me out. I was at a point in my life where I was so tired of guys hitting on me all the time and even though I was only 21, I felt like I was ready to settle down and be with just one guy, you know?"

"Sorry, I can't say I do. I've yet to find that one woman who can make me feel that way. Then again, I can't honestly say I've ever tried looking. Regardless, I haven't found her yet. Who knows? Maybe one of these days I'll find someone who can make me want to settle down. I guess time will tell. Sorry. Please go on," he said as she started using a high-pressure water gizmo.

"Well, he was so nice and so sweet I agreed to go out with him and he was actually very charming. One date became two, two turned into three, and a couple of months later he proposed."

"Big wedding, beautiful dress, all the planning, right?" he asked.

"Exactly! Every girl's dream, right? My mom was a little bit concerned about me getting married so young, but other than that, we both got totally into it. The wedding became more important than anything else to include the relationship. Once it was over and we were in the limo all alone, it wasn't exciting at all. It was just this huge letdown, you know? The honeymoon turned into this ever bigger disappointment because all of the fun was over." She stopped for a moment and said, "That really sounds awful, doesn't it?"

"I guess that depends on several things. Just how awful was the honeymoon—and everything that goes along with it—and what else was wrong?"

Lindsay laughed and said, "We went to Las Vegas which was nice, but I realized right away Nick wasn't all that great...you know...where it counts."

"Surely you test drove the car ahead of time, right?"

There was silence for several seconds before she exhaled and said, "Oh, sure. And just like with his looks, he was maybe so-so in that department."

Pierson laughed as she continued. "Okay, so I'd had good sex, bad sex, terrible sex, and a couple of times—amazing sex." She leaned closer to his ear and said, "Any woman who says size doesn't matter has never had amazing sex, okay? I mean, if a guy's above average and otherwise really good, sex can still be pretty awesome, but if he's..." She whispered in his ear, "Well hung and he knows what he's doing..." She up straight and shivered before leaning back over him and quietly saying, "It's fucking awesome!"

Pierson laughed and said, "Or maybe you should say 'it's awesome fucking'?" She laughed as Pierson added, "Being a man, I don't have to worry about size from your perspective, but I'll take your word for it."

"Oh, trust me. Size matters. To a point anyway. The problem—well, one of many problems with Nick—is he's just average. Not really small, but very...average. And he's not...attentive. At all. But I could probably live with that if that's all there was. Sex is important, but it isn't everything, right?"

Pierson smiled and said, "Again, I'll have to take your word on that."

She hit him playfully on the shoulder and kept talking as she reached for a different tool. "Right after the honeymoon, the jealousy started. I'd never seen even a hint of it before so it really took me by surprise. It wasn't bad at first, but once it started it just snowballed. Exponentially is the word I think I'm looking for. He wanted to know where I was going, when I'd be home, who'd be there, were any of the people who might be there cute guys, was I cheating on him, and..."

She stopped talking and Dean asked, "Sheesh. Did it get physical?"

"Several times," she said somberly. "He didn't beat me, but he liked to push me around and poke me in the chest. It sounds so pathetic, but I felt like some of it was my fault, you know? I even agreed to quit modeling and for a while that seemed to help. But not for long."

"Jealousy can rear its ugly head in any relationship, but when a couple is mismatched in terms of looks, it can get really bad. We tend to marry our integer."

"Our integer?" she said as she kept working while giving him opportunities to speak.

"Well, yeah. Tens marry nines or tens. Fives go out with fours, fives, and sixes. You're a ten. A genuine ten. Your husband is maybe a seven. That's got 'problem' written all over it."

"Again, that's really sweet, but I don't feel like anything close to a ten anymore—if I ever was. I just feel...tired. I'm so tired of the jealousy and the anger and the lack of trust. I didn't sign up to be anyone's property, you know? And I'm also really tired of..." She whispered, "Not having sex—amazing or otherwise."

There was a quiet pause while she scraped the back of his front teeth. When he had the opportunity he asked, "Do you guys have kids?"

"No. Thank God. No kids."

He decided to throw out a line and if she'd bite. "Did you ever consider having an affair?"

She pulled her mask down and smiled at him as she said, "All the time."

"So have you found anyone who interests you since your separation?"

She looked right down at him, pulled her mask down again, and said as she lowered one eye right over his, "Oh, let's just say I have my...eye...on someone." She smiled brightly, hesitated, then said, "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No. Ask me anything at all. I'm very open about these kinds of things."

"I've noticed," she said with a flirtatious smile. "You said you were at least open to looking for that one woman you'd settle down with. What would she be like?"

He waited for her to stop scraping and said, "You."

Lindsay laughed. "Ahh! You're so sweet!" she said again. "And very handsome, by the way." She paused and looked into his eyes from that upside down, up-above position and told him, "As if you need me to tell you you're gorgeous." She paused for a few seconds as one stubborn spot was really giving her trouble. "So...why me?"

Lindsay put her instruments down and said, "Okay, just the fluoride left to do," before asking him, "So are you going to answer my question?"

"I'll try," he told her. "You said size matters. To me, looks matter. Not out of some sense of snobbishness, but we really do marry our integer. So to begin with, she'd have to look like you."

"Thank you. I think," she said with a smile as she handed him the cup. "Just swish it around and keep it in your mouth for 30 seconds."

"Hey, that's my line," he said.

She picked up on the innuendo and laughed loudly. "Sorry. That was very funny. But I don't think you'd ever say 30 seconds is enough, though. Right?"

"Guilty," he said as he swished the fluid around in his mouth. He spat into the sink and handed her the cup. "Beyond that, she has to be someone I enjoy talking to. I mean, no one has sex 24/7 so even if you did it every day, what do you do the other 23 hours?"

"Ha! In Nick's case that would have been the other 23 hours and 55 minutes, but okay. Point taken. What else?"

"She has to be very open-minded about all things sexual from talking about it to actually doing it."

"And I'm guessing that means she needs to be very good at the actual doing part, right?"

"Right you are," he said. "There's nothing worse than a woman saying, 'What do you want me to do?' I mean, if you have to ask then..."

"You're making me feel paranoid," she said.

"How so?"

"After my marriage to Nick, I'm not feeling very confident about my um...abilities. I used to think I was pretty good in the intimacy department, but with a guy like you I think I'd be...intimidated."

komrad1156
komrad1156
3,777 Followers