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"Am I? I haven't done anything," she says, primly uncrossing her legs and recrossing them. Her skirt's short and plaid and very much unlike anything she actually wore in school but the effect she's going for should be extremely clear.

"You haven't?" he says, leaning against the door-frame and looking her up and down, taking in the skirt, the length of her legs and the fact that the camera's already set up. "So that wasn't you in the clinic an hour ago?"

"Oh, well, that was definitely me but I wasn't aware this was a bad thing," she murmurs, sliding her glasses down a little to peer over them. "Don't you like it?"

"I think you know what I think, Mac," he says, eyebrow raised as he watches her. "I think that's pretty abundantly clear."

"You asked me once what good English girls did in boarding school. I had to advise you that while I was a pretty English girl, I knew nothing about what the good ones did. Do you want to find out about the bad ones?"

She's baiting him and she knows it but God, it feels good.

He steps in behind the camera and turns it on how she's shown him before before he takes a seat behind it.

"Go on, then. Why don't you tell me what the bad ones do."

"Bad ones don't wear their knickers under their skirts," Mac says, being deliberately more English than she ever really is. She uncrosses her legs and spreads her thighs wide.

"They also smoke but I can't do that because I was so bad I went and got myself pregnant. I'm a very troubled girl, Dr. Jackson."

"I can see that," he says, eyes drawn down between her thighs because, yeah, that skirt doesn't leave much to be desired. "That all they get up to? That doesn't sound so bad for me."

"Well. They just want to be loved, don't they? So they'll fuck anyone who gives them some attention."

Mac leans back against the bed and brushes her fingers against her thigh. "Are you watching me?"

"I'm watching you, darlin'," he says, because he is. He hasn't taken his eyes off her since he walked into the room. "What's your favourite way to get fucked, sweetheart?"

"From behind," she murmurs. "On my hands and knees with my ass in the air and my little skirt all rucked up."

It's a very arresting image and Jackson takes a moment to let it sink in. "What else do you do that good girls don't, darlin'?"

"Good girls don't let their boyfriends fuck them in the ass," Mac says, giggling a bit. "So you know, I'm definitely not a very good girl."

"Good girls don't," he agrees, shifting his position slightly in his chair. "Why don't you show me your tits, darlin'?"

Mac undoes her blouse and shrugs it off before biting her lip, feigning shy. "Do I need to take my bra off too, Dr. Jackson?"

"You can just lift your tits out of it for me," he says. "And lean forward."

Mac does as he asks, sliding her breasts up and out and leaning forward. "Yes? Ready and waiting."

"Look into the camera for me," he says. "Play with your nipples while you tell me about the filthiest thing you've ever done."

Mac blushes and starts doing as he asked, voice low and breathy. "I let you fuck me outside and come all over my tits," she says, thinking this is a good start. "And I got so fucking wet."

"Harder. I want you squirming." He tilts his head, watching her. "What else have you let me do to you? That a good girl wouldn't. Remind me."

"I gagged on your cock and begged you for it," she whimpers, teasing her nipples into stiff little peaks.

"I think I remember that," he says, grinning. "Spread your legs wider and keep going. I don't want that camera to miss a thing."

Mac does as he asks, spreading her legs wide as they'll go. "Can I touch my cunt, Jackson? Please?"

"No, you can't," he says, shaking his head. "Bad girls have to work hard for what they want. And I gave you an instruction and you haven't followed it."

"I let you fuck me in every hole," Mac whimpers. "Every one. In New York?"