Gender: N/A Age: N/A Location: N/A
|Introduction: This is my first story. It has a lot of chapters and it's not finished.|
Impregnating Sarah -- Part 1
The drive to the doctor’s office was miserable. It was Friday afternoon and it seemed like everyone had decided to leave work early and randomly drive around the city. Sarah had already been cut off three times and she still had several miles to go.
Sarah mumbled to herself, “These people are nuts! I’m gonna get killed driving to see my doctor. Talk about irony.”
Suddenly, brakes lights began to flash in front of her and she could see that something had happened up ahead because traffic has slowed to a crawl and was inching toward a full stop.
“Oh this is just great,” she continued, “not only am I going to be killed on the way to the doctor, now I’m gonna be late, too!”
Realizing that fuming about the conditions were not going to improve them, Sarah took a couple of deep breaths, tuned her stereo to the classical station and tried to relax. As her tension dropped away, her mind began to replay the past several months of her life, eventually moving to the purpose of her visit to the doctor.
Sarah Morgan was just 26 years old, a first grade teacher, and married to Jim, her boyfriend since their freshman year at college. Sarah would deny it if she was asked, but she possessed stunning beauty. Her face was smooth and radiated health. Her eyes were a crystal clear blue and when people suggested she should be a model, she blushed and tried to reply with some witty excuse for never trying. She was of medium height, around 5’5’, but her posture and her straight, shoulder length hair helped to create the illusion she was taller. Her carriage also resulted in the prominent display of her well sculptured, natural breasts. From her early teens, she had always thought her breasts were too small, but they were proportionally perfect for her body.
Her waist was slim and accented the flare of her hips and her taunt, rounded ass. Being a teacher, she usually wore slacks because working with kids, particularly young ones, was not conducive to wearing skirts or dresses. The slacks she wore molded tightly to her thighs and ass, creating a wonderfully pleasant, but totally unintentional, visual effect. To her mind, she wore the slacks for comfort and ease of movement; her body wore the slacks as bold advertisement of her suggestive beauty.
It really was a shame she did not wear skirts more frequently, because her legs were something to behold. Sarah had been an athlete in high school and remained active through college, playing tennis and riding her bike. Once she took her teaching job, she found she had less time for her sporting pursuits, but she tried to watch her diet and exercise whenever she could. She did find that trying to maintain order in a first grade class room took a lot of energy, and while it was not a substitute for a long bike ride, she did get some exercise.
Sarah was on the way to her doctor to see about getting pregnant. She and Jim had been trying for nearly two years, but nothing seemed to help them. At first they were told Jim’s sperm count was too low; then they were told she might be infertile; they even had one doctor tell them she was infertile and Jim was sterile. Now she was on the way to a specialist that had been recommended to her as a last resort. None of her other doctors professed to know the technique Dr. Henry used, and he was reportedly very radical in his approach to infertility, but they all acknowledged he had a high rate of success. After two years Sarah was ready for almost any approach, regardless of how radical some might think it was.
With that thought firmly in her mind, the sluggish traffic finally reached her exit, allowing her to leave the freeway madness behind her and concentrate on finding the address she had been given. Fortunately, the office was on a corner, with easy access from the street. In minutes she was parked, had walked into the office, and was busily completing a comprehensive medical history. After completing the multi-page form, the receptionist called Sarah and directed her to a small, but nicely furnished room with a desk, two chairs and small couch. She was ushered into the room, took a seat, and as she was getting settled when the door opened and a man and woman entered, both wore white lab coats.
“Hi. You must be Sarah Morgan,” the man spoke. “I am Dr. Henry and this is my wife and colleague, Laura Mills.”
Sarah smiled and stood up, offering her hand, “Hi. I’m pleased to meet both of you.”
“Let’s get right to it, shall we?” Dr. Henry began. Sarah made mental note that he could use some work on his bedside manner.
“Laura is a Physician Assistant. She has a graduate degree and I depend a great deal on her knowledge, particularly her knowledge of women. The first part of my treatment is an in-depth, candid interview. Laura will do the interview.”
“Excuse me,” interrupted Sarah, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t even know what your treatment is.”
“That’s a good point, but somewhat irrelevant at the moment. You see, the interview is an important component of the process. In a sense, the results of your interview will tell me whether I think my treatment will help you at all. Of course, the interview is not the only determining factor, I do conduct a thorough physical exam as well, but if I do not see the results I need to see from the interview, I won’t waste your money or my time by proceeding with a treatment that is sure to fail.”
Laura spoke up, “I know that sounds cold and rather pompous, but it really is true. Dr. Henry’s technique depends entirely on a patient’s complete cooperation. A hint of hesitancy can interfere with the whole process, and we can determine from your interview whether you are a good candidate for our treatment.”
Sarah looked closely at Laura as she spoke and was reassured by the kindness in her eyes and the feminine gentleness in her voice. She was also struck by how attractive Laura was. Her eyes were bright and lively, and her short blond hair complemented her fair, smooth complexion. Her body was mostly concealed by her lab coat, but Sarah concluded that Laura was an attractive woman. In comparison, Sarah’s first impression of Dr. Henry was that of a self important, brutish lout. He had dark hair, bushy eyebrows, and a heavy beard. In her imagination, she laughed at the thought that he probably had to shave his back on a regular basis.
“Ok,” replied Sarah. “Is the interview the next step?”
Dr. Henry nodded, “Yes it is, and if you are ready to begin, I will leave you in Laura’s capable hands.” He turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door.
Turning back to face Sarah, he said, “You need to know that Laura is going to ask you some deeply personal questions about your sexual experiences. If you feel you cannot answer truthfully, or maybe not at all, you should probably leave. Do you think you can participate in the interview knowing the topic?”
Sarah hesitated, Laura and the doctor exchanged a quick glance, “Well, how personal do you mean?”
Dr. Henry stepped away from the door and moved close to Sarah. He captured her eyes with an intense, dark stare. “Mrs. Morgan, we need to know every detail of your sexual activities. It is important for us to know what you do or have done. But please understand, we are not here to judge your actions nor will we share the information with anyone, including your husband.”
He turned to leave again. “By the way,” he continued changing topics, “where is your husband? We prefer both spouses participate in the interview.”
“Oh,” Sarah responded, “Jim is gone for almost three weeks on an extended business trip to Asia. I was supposed to go with him, but it was so difficult for me to schedule this appointment, I elected to stay home rather than wait any longer to see you. Is it a problem for him to be away?”
It was Dr. Henry’s turn to pause, a delay that Laura noticed immediately. “Ordinarily we start the first phase of the treatment within days of a successful interview and physical exam. It is not really critical that your husband be present until much later, so I suppose we could start the process even in his absence. But going back to my original question, will you be willing to speak candidly to Laura about your sexual experiences?”
Sarah felt the color rise in her cheeks, “Yes, I believe I can do that.”
“Ok then. I will leave you two to get started. Laura, when you are finished, have Mrs. Morgan change into an examining gown and make her comfortable, would you please?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Laura said smiling at Sarah. “Won’t you please have a seat? I will get my data sheet ready and we can begin.”
Sarah sat down in an overstuffed chair opposite the desk. She crossed her legs, momentarily exposing her blue panties and her leg past mid-thigh. Embarrassed, she tugged at her skirt to cover the skin.
“Don’t’ be shy, Sarah,” Laura coached as she watched Sarah’s effort at concealment. “Sex and the human body is mundane around here. We view the body and its sexual nature from a scientific and medical perspective. I’m not saying you are a number or an anonymous specimen, but we don’t get flustered by sex, nor do we want our patients to feel uncomfortable about the topic.”
“I am still fairly conservative in my outlook on sexual topics,” Sarah replied, “and this interview might be difficult for me, but I will do my best.”
“I’m sure you will. Now, to put you at ease and to get you accustomed to answering the questions, let’s start with the easiest stuff. How old are you, and are you married?”
“Yes, I’ve been married for four years and I am 26.”
“Good. See how easy that is? Ok, let’s really begin. I will read each question from my list. You answer as honestly and in as much detail as you can. Here we go . . . How old were you when you had your first period?”
“Oh my. That seems so long ago. How old was I? I’d guess I was probably just about 12 years old. Yeah, that’s right, I was in sixth grade.”
“Ok, good. When did your breasts begin to develop?’
Sarah unconsciously looked down at her chest, “I think I first noticed them between 11 and 12. Of course, looking at me now, some would say they never fully developed.”
Laura paused, looking directly at Sarah, “I think you have lovely breasts. I am looking forward to seeing them.”
Sarah was taken aback by Laura’s blunt comment, but she had no time to dwell on the issue because Laura fired off another question, “Did you masturbate when you were younger, and if so, when did you start?”
“I, ah, ah,” Sarah struggled to regain her composure, “I guess I was about 12 the first time.”
“Did you use your hand or something else, like a hair brush?”
“Ah, um, I used my hand . . . my fingers,” she answered obviously embarrassed.
“Sarah, it’s ok. Just tell me what happened. Remember, I am not judging you at all. I am merely recording data. Now, did you masturbate frequently?”
Sarah felt oddly reassured and her voice became a bit more confident. “No, I was nervous someone might hear me. So, I’d say I only did it a couple of times a month, maybe less. I would touch myself when I was in the shower or as I was getting dressed, but I had pretty much quit masturbating by the time I was 14.”
“Ok. Let’s change topics now . . . how old were you when you first had sex?”
Sarah took in a big breath and slowly exhaled, “I was 15.”
“Have you had anal sex? And if so, how old were you the first time you engaged in that activity?’
Sarah cleared her throat, “I was 15.”
Laura’s curiosity was increasing with each question. “Have you performed oral sex?”
“Yes, I have.”
“How old were you the first time?”
Again Sarah paused before answering the question, folding her hands in her lap. “I was 15.”
“Did you swallow his semen?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you think of the experience? Were you surprised when he ejaculated into your mouth? Did you gag? What did you think of the taste?”
Sarah took another deep breath. “I was pretty young and I suppose I wasn’t really prepared for him to ah . . . you know.”
“It’s ok, Sarah.” Laura leaned over to touch Sarah’s arm in a comforting gesture. “Just tell me your memories at the time of the experience.”
“Well, I guess I wasn’t really surprised when he ejaculated because I could tell he was getting more and more excited. But, I sort of remember being surprised by the volume of his semen. It seemed like a lot, and I thought I might gag, but in the end I guess I just kept swallowing until he was done.”
“How many men have you performed oral sex on and how many have you allowed to cum in your mouth,” Laura asked?
“I’ve had oral sex with three, but only two have,” she hesitated before repeating Laura’s words, “. . . cum in my mouth.”
“Does that include your husband?” Sarah nodded.
“Yes, but I have only done that with him a couple of times.”
Laura raised an eyebrow at that response, curious if there were some sexual issues between husband and wife, but she continued. “Have you had sex with more than one partner simultaneously? If so what sexual acts did you perform, and how old were you?”
Sarah inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, “I was 15, and I engaged in oral, anal, and vaginal sex.”
Internally, Laura was stunned, but her exterior expressions and body language remained objective and unchanged. Sarah did not strike her as one to seek adventures, particularly sexual adventures. She was growing concerned that Sarah’s early sexual experiences might not have voluntary. “Ok Sarah, I am going to stop for a minute. I sense there is story behind what you have just told me. Would you tell me the details?”
Sarah momentarily turned away as if calculating how difficult it might be to fabricate a story. After a few seconds, she looked back at Laura, “This will be difficult for me because I have never told this story to anyone, not my parents, not my friends, and certainly not my husband. But before I begin, how much detail do you expect me to provide?”
Laura carefully placed her pen and clipboard on the desk. “If this makes you feel better, I will just listen and not take notes. But you need to place your full confidence and trust in me and describe every detail you can remember. Is that a fair trade?”
Sarah considered the offer for a moment and nodded her head.
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