For the Love of Becca
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Lactation, Pregnancy,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - She was alone, but not entirely. The story of a passionate woman determined to make it on her own, if only her doctor's blue eyes and delicious smile would leave her alone. They don't and she falls, hard. <br>This story is dedicated to all the loving parents and parents-to-be.
More than a year had passed since I sat in this waiting room. The same outdated magazines littered the tables. Shiny-faced toddlers and poetically beautiful mothers-to-be smiled up at me from the crinkled glossy covers. Hah! Where were the fathers of those beautiful babies? Probably out building junior a decent college fund and planning family outings, I thought cynically.
I wasn't the first woman to become a single mother. I wasn't going to be the last. Michael had made himself perfectly clear: He didn't want to be a father, never planned to be a father and would be glad to pay for an abortion. He said all this after accusing me of trapping him and his money, buying defective condoms and seducing him into unsafe sex. I laughed, an odd little habit of mine when I was angry. I laughed and told him not to worry. I never wanted to make a man resent being a father. My attorney will draw up the paperwork to terminate his rights. Have a nice life.
I grew up the only child of a vengeful woman and resentful man. We were the cliche dysfunctional family. During one of many arguments between my parents, I overheard my father yelling that she should have had that abortion or at least put 'her' up for adoption. Yes, I was the 'her' of whom they spoke.
Mom and Dad eventually divorced. I buried myself in my schoolwork. I only wanted to get lost in the woodwork of my unhappy home. I enjoyed being alone most of the time. If not for a few good friends I had in high school, my social life would have sucked.
After earning the scholarship to Vanderbilt, I gratefully left the arms of my family. I threw myself into the whole college life: musty dorm rooms, all-night cramming for exams, lousy food and even the occasional one night stand to release pent up frustrations. Oh yeah, and a heavy class load. I intended to make a good life for myself. After graduating from Vanderbilt with my masters in Psychology, I was on my way.
I met Michael while being courted by a counseling center based in a busy medical center in Dallas. The attraction was instant. Our relationship grew quickly from flirtatious smiles and risque' conversation to an earth-trembling bout of afternoon sex amid site proposals and treatment plans for current patients. Michael was very good. We were very good together. Our affair remained quiet during my first year at the clinic. When Michael transferred to another facility with a substantial promotion, our affair became common knowledge.
Michael and I started drifting apart not long after he transferred. I know he was experiencing a new stress in his life and I did all that I could to ease his tension. It was during one of my special tension-reducing sessions that the condom broke. Michael panicked. I assured him as best that I could that the time of the month was wrong anyway.
Michael took the news harder than I thought. In fact, his reaction completely shocked me. The bliss I felt in my newfound condition was doused with his hurtful suggestions. I thought Michael might have wanted a child. I was so wrong.
And now, here I was, studying a waiting room full of women in various stages of pregnancy, some with other children, some without. I was never going to be alone again. The thought made my stomach tighten and my cheeks tingle. "Oh shit."
I barely made it to the conveniently stationed restroom before losing my balanced breakfast. I stood. My knee hurt from banging it against the linoleum. The putrid shade of mustard yellow wallpaper on the walls made my stomach somersault again. I clutched at my belly.
A knock sounded on the restroom door as I was sipping a plastic cup of water. "Ma'am? Are you all right in there? Do you need the doctor?" Jeez, I thought, aren't they used to women vomiting in this place by now?
"No, thank you. I'm fine. Just a little morning sickness." I opened the door and met the concerned expression of an obstetrics nurse. Her expression turned from concern to relief and then surprise when she noticed the tiny cup clutched in my hand. I was still shaking from my recent bout of morning sickness. Morning sickness was the wrong name, at least in my experience so far. How about all-day-sickness?
"Oh. You didn't actually drink from that cup, did you?"
"Just a little water. Why?"
"Those cups are for urine specimens. All the moms-to-be have to fill one up every time they come in."
"I thought it was a little small." I mumbled, grimacing as my stomach lurched again. I lost the rest of what remained in my stomach.
I felt her cool hand on the back of my neck as I retched. Pregnancy was going to be a bitch, I could tell. She dabbed at my forehead with a damp paper towel as I tried to recover some semblance of dignity.
"Thank you, miss. Miss--" I was searching for a name plate on her bright and cheerful scrubs.
"Call me Nancy. We'll be seeing a lot of each other in the next few months. And don't worry. After the first trimester you will be feeling a lot better." Nancy patted my back and brushed the stray brown curls from my face. I was feeling a little better. "By the way, are you Ms. Rogers?"
"Yes. Becca Rogers." I dabbed at the tears under my eyes and met her friendly smile. My lips trembled.
"I need to see you in exam room 3. Dr. Trimble had an emergency C-section to perform this morning and he is still at the hospital. He probably won't be back in the office for another hour yet. You can either wait for him or see our new associate, Dr. Dixon."
"No offense, but I would like to get out of here as soon as possible. I'll take the new guy. If you can recommend him, of course." I smiled weakly as another wave of nausea passed over me.
"Dr. Dixon is new but he is excellent. I think you will like him. C'mon now. Let's take your blood pressure and your weight."
"Great. This day is going from bad to worse. I don't want to get weighed." I whined as I plodded over to the waiting scale.
"You need to get used to it, darling. We'll be monitoring your weight very closely. And your urine, and your blood pressure and your diet. You're either going to love us or hate us by the time this baby is born."
I had to smile through the tears and sickness. She was making me feel more comfortable. That was important. What woman can really feel comfortable preparing for a pelvic exam? All right, I admit, it wouldn't be the first time I allowed a vaguely unknown man slide his fingers into my vagina. Usually, though, it was after dinner and a nice bottle of wine. This atmosphere just wasn't conducive to relaxation.
"Okay, Miss Becca, one hundred and fifteen pounds. A little underweight for your height but don't worry. You will make up for it soon enough." She patted my back and led me to the examination room.
"Underweight? I can't think about food right now. Nothing sounds appetizing these days. I'll never feel like eating." I whined again.
Nancy only snickered as she handed me a paper gown and a folded sheet. Of course I knew what to do now. This wasn't my first time to see a gynecologist, and the first time to see an obstetrician shouldn't be much different. I stared at the things in dumbfound agony. Nancy patted me on the back and left the room so I could undress in privacy.
I caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Once hazel, my eyes now appeared dull. Shadows stained the fair skin beneath my eyes. My complexion even looked gray. Chestnut curls, once springy and lively, drooped against my back. I wasn't getting enough sleep although I felt tired all the time.
I slipped into the paper gown and noisily slid onto the examining table. All that crinkling paper and cold air was making the butterflies in my stomach leap around crazily. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to meditate myself into a calm, relaxed state.
The knock on the door startled me. "Yes?"
"It's Dr. Dixon. Are you decent?"
"As decent as a paper product will allow." came my reply.
I heard his laughter before he opened the door. It was nice, and a little familiar. When he stepped over the threshold into the exam room, my heart stopped and my stomach bubbled again. "Greg?"
"Rebecca?" Dr. Greg Dixon stared at me in surprise, a grin beginning to spread across his very handsome face.
I gawked at the grown version of my high school crush. Greg Dixon was always a nice looking kid with his laughing pale blue eyes and silly grin. Nothing could have prepared me for this vision standing in front of me with a stethoscope and a lab coat.
"Becca Rogers? What a pleasant surprise! All the way from Planterstown?"
"Greg. Oh my." I suddenly felt naked. I clutched the front of my paper gown and smiled at him, hoping he didn't notice the severe red blush that was creeping up my neck. "I had no idea you were--here. Or, a doctor even, much less a gynecologist. Wow. Um, yes, a surprise is what I would say. Definitely a surprise. A nice surprise, don't get me wrong. But... wow. I mean, all the way from Planterstown. No, I didn't come all the way from Planterstown. Well, I mean, I did but it was many years ago. I live here now. And... I'm... really surprised to see you." Ugh, inwardly I cringed at my nervous babbling.
"I haven't seen you since that five-year reunion at my parent's house. You were working on your masters at Vanderbilt, right?"
"Yeah, and you were on your way to Tulane." Wow, he remembered, I thought. I realized I had pulled the sheet up under my chin.
He laughed again, obviously amused at my predicament. Greg was one of the gang in high school. I considered myself a little homely and shy. He was a friendly guy, always joking, always happy and always with a cute girlfriend. I adored Greg. He won a special place in my heart for being so kind to me back then. "Hey, Becca, if this is uncomfortable for you I can get Dr. Trimble to see you when he gets back. That's perfectly understandable."
"Don't be silly. We're adults now. I'm sure you've seen plenty of--" If it were possible to blush any deeper, I was now.
Greg laughed again. "It's good to see you still have your sense of humor. Seriously, what do you want to do?"
"I'm okay with this. Really. In fact, I actually trust you." Coming from me, that was big.
"Thanks Becca. That means a lot to me." His expression changed a little from the jovial man to a concerned professional. He began flipping through my file. I was able to study him a little more while he was reading over my records. He had filled out. Nicely. Gone was the long, shaggy hair and adolescent complexion. In its place was short dark hair, a little wet and spikey, as if he had just stepped from the shower. His face was much more rugged and planed. His smile hadn't changed a bit, though. "What brings you here today?"
I took a deep breath and steadied my nerves. "Well, Doc, it's like this. I started feeling really sick a few weeks ago. Then I realized I had completely skipped a period. Stella at the pharmacy convinced me I needed to check out one of those EPT things and it turned blue and here I am." There.
Greg flipped through my file, marking a few things in his fast script. "Your weight is good. Blood pressure is fine. How far along do you think you are?"
"Maybe six weeks. I'm not sure."
"Your husband doesn't remember?"
I sat there in silence. I cursed myself for allowing a tear to cloud my eye. My throat tightened. I looked up and met his blue eyes. He understood in that instance.
"Don't be sorry. I'm fine. Really. I'm a big girl with a real job and real money. I have my own house and my debts are minimal. I can do this by myself. I don't need the help of some pompous asshole." I swiped at the tear.
"I take it the father doesn't want anything to do with this?" Greg began to rub soothing circles on my back. It felt so comforting. Nancy came in with a real glass of water and heard the last thing Greg said.
"He doesn't want children. Ever. He is treating this as a momentary lapse in judgment. He will resume our relationship if I get rid of the offending organism." I said this very sarcastically, making it clear how I felt.
"I feel that I have a duty to inform you of your options. It's early enough."
"No. That is not an option for me. When I saw the little blue line, this baby became real to me. I want this baby. I will raise this baby to be a good human being, even if I have to do it without a father figure."
"That's good enough for me. We'll do all we can to bring this baby into the world as healthy as possible. If you ever need anything or have any concerns, give Nancy or I a call and we'll help you out. Not only with medical concerns, but also with resources for every aspect of the pregnancy and birth."
I was feeling better already. I had someone on my side for once, supporting my decision and offering some guidance. "Thanks Greg... I mean Dr. Dixon."
"Greg to you, Becca, always. Now, why don't we get on with the examination?"
"Right. The examination." I settled back on the white paper and scooted down until my rear was perched near the edge of the table. Greg looked at me quizzically. "What?" I asked.
"Eager for a pelvic, are you? Let's do the breasts first." He smirked. I noticed the tiny scar by his left eye and remembered when he got that scar. We were playing with fireworks on the fourth of July when one misfired and scraped the side of his face.
I rolled my eyes and grumbled my embarrassment, situating myself farther up on the table. Greg pulled apart the paper gown and laid his warm hands on my right breast. I looked up into his eyes, very afraid. He continued to talk to me, easing my nerves as his fingers pushed gently into my giving flesh. He looked down briefly at my nipple before moving onto my left breast. Again, his eyes found mine. "How does that feel?" He asked.
That was a loaded question, I thought. Greg, your hands are massaging my breasts, what do you want me to say? Do it some more? Yes... well, no. Anyway... "Sore. Very sore."
Greg nodded. Obviously he couldn't read minds.
"Now, scoot down to the edge." Nancy guided my feet into the stirrups and arranged the sheet over my spread legs. The bright light from the lamp warmed my inner thighs. I took a deep breath. Then another.
Greg loomed over me, all broad shoulders and authority. He blocked the light from the lamp as he stood between my legs. He placed one hand gently on my belly and positioned the other hand between my legs. I wonder if he knew just how nervous he was making me.
This all seemed so surreal. After all those misspent years in high school lusting after this guy, here he was about to go where few men have gone and I was shaking like a schoolgirl. He stirred temptations within me. I felt the fabric of his lab coat brush against the tender flesh of my thigh. He slipped his lubricated fingers into my vagina. Oh God, Did my vagina embrace his fingers? I fought the urge to arch my back. This was a doctor's office, for Godsakes. There was a nurse standing by the door watching every move the doctor made. This was not the time to get horny. Hormones, I rationalized. I had read that hormones while pregnant can make you do strange things. I was definitely feeling strange.
"Everything feels great." Greg remarked as he removed his fingers from my vagina and snapped off his gloves. He turned to toss the latex gloves in the trash while I awkwardly sat up, my feet pushing against the stirrups. I managed to free my legs and close them before he turned back around.
"That's good to hear." I said.
"I'm going to give you some prenatal vitamins and some reading material. Nancy will make another appointment for you in four weeks. Meanwhile, you get enough rest, exercise and healthy food... no junk. I remember you had a passion for chocolate-covered cherries. No more than one chocolate-covered cherry a day." He smiled at me and patted my leg. God, his smile was still gorgeous. All dimpled and sparkly. I wanted to grab him by the ears and kiss him silly. Hormones, Becca. Traitorous hormones.
"You remember the chocolate-covered cherries?"
"I remember a lot of things, Becca, like the time you wanted to play football with the boys only to be squashed under a pile of randy teenagers who tickled you until you wet your pants." Greg snickered. "God that was funny!"
"Maybe to you. I was horrified." I couldn't help but giggle. That seemed so long ago.
"Here's my card. Call me anytime, day or night, if you have any problems. Okay? I need to move onto the next patient. I look forward to seeing you in four weeks." Greg squeezed my shoulder before he left the examining room, leaving me to sigh after his broad back.
Four weeks. I had to wait four weeks to see him again? He must be married with a couple of kids by now. I didn't think to check to see if he had on a wedding ring. Do OB/GYN's even wear rings?
"Y'all know each other?" I startled when I heard Nancy speak. I forgot she was in the room.
"We went to high school together. We were friends." I smiled at Nancy.
"Good. A friend of his. Maybe you can talk some sense into him about this bimbo he's been seeing lately. Just another airhead in a long line of airheads." Nancy remarked caustically.
"Honestly, I don't know where he finds them. Jennifer I think her name is, she is so rude and snippy when she calls for him, which is often. Mind you, the man has a packed schedule and she just doesn't seem to understand that. She just acts so bitchy all the time." Nancy quickly covered her mouth with her hand and stared at me in disbelief. "I can't believe I just said that. I apologize. I just know her type. Dr. Dixon is too nice to end up with a woman like that."
I slipped behind the curtain and began to get dressed as Nancy continued to chat and straighten up the exam room. "I understand perfectly Nancy. Greg, I mean, Dr. Dixon, is a very nice man. He was always extremely wonderful to me during my awkward years in school. I will be forever grateful for him for giving me a place in which I felt comfortable. He did always have a weakness for dumb blondes, though." I laughed, brushing my dark curls from my face. "And, he is a cutie." I smiled at Nancy as I left the room. "See y'all in four weeks."
So, Greg was single after all.
After my initial visit with Greg I began to see myself in a new light. My priorities had shifted from brooding about Michael to taking care of myself and the life growing inside me. I eagerly read all the material Greg had given me on prenatal care and took the advice of a nutritionist and adjusted my diet. I was going to be the best pregnant woman I could be. Now, if the all-day morning sickness would just go away.
My co-workers were beginning to suspect I was either suffering from an incurable food allergy or I was pregnant. I couldn't hide my pregnancy forever so I decided to tell my secretary. Telling Kathy is like broadcasting on the office intercom. By the end of the day all my co-workers would be aware of my condition.
The opportunity presented itself soon enough. After spending most of the morning trotting to and from the ladies room, Kathy finally stepped into my office with a look of concern on her over-made face.
"Becca, I can't help but notice how pale you've been looking lately. And, it's a little obvious you've been spending a lot of time in the ladies room. Is there something I can do for you?" Kathy hovered over me like a mother hen. I was curled up on the sofa in my office sipping ginger ale through a straw at the time. I imagine I did look a little different from my usual prim and proper self behind the desk furiously dictating into my microcassette recorder.
"Actually, you can do something for me Kathy. Could you look in my bottom desk drawer and get that box of crackers?" Kathy looked at me strangely before walking to my desk.
She handed me the box of crackers and smiled cautiously. "Becca, are you pregnant?"
I sighed and sat up, tucking a few loose strands of chestnut hair back into my French braid. "Well, I suppose it's no use trying to hide the truth from everybody. The evidence will present itself eventually. Yes, I am pregnant, about ten weeks along now."
"Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you." Kathy said, smiling into my eyes. "What about the father? Oh, no... that's too personal a question. Nevermind I asked that. It's just that, in my day, we weren't accepted if we were expecting and didn't have a ring on our finger. You know how it is."
"Don't be concerned for me. Times are different now. It's perfectly acceptable for a woman nowadays to have a baby on her own. Besides, the father was horrified with the idea and I would much rather raise a child in a happy home, not a forced home."
Kathy patted my hand. "You just rest a little dear. I remember how it was with my children. I was so sick for months. I couldn't eat anything or go anywhere. It was miserable. With any luck you'll be feeling better before the baby arrives. Now tell me, what can I get you?"
I groaned and leaned back into the softness of the couch. She was sick for months? I couldn't stand it if I were sick for months. Who would do my job for me? Who would counsel Brady and Dylan? I was making headway with those two and I couldn't give up on them now. No, I wasn't going to be sick any longer than two more weeks, three at the most. Ha! That's what you think, that little voice in my head mocked. Just you wait...
"Sorry, just thinking about being sick. Really, Kathy, thanks for everything, you're a wonderful lady. I promise if I need anything you will be the first to know." I smiled up at her before waving her off to answer the door in the reception area.
I checked my watch. 11:00 a.m. Dylan would be here any moment now for his session. I straightened my skirt and searched for his file on my desk. I slipped back into my pumps, which were feeling a little tighter than usual, and settled down into my chair.
A brief knock sounded at my door before Kathy peeked her head in. "Dylan is here, would you like me to send him in?"
Kathy disappeared among mumbled words uttered to the surly youth waiting in the hall. Dylan Peters slouched into my office and fell into the chair on the other side of my desk. He looked up at me and smiled tentatively. He was a nice kid. He had a rough life and alcoholic parents. He acted out and enjoyed intimidating others, but behind all the fear and anger, he had a good soul.
"Hey, Dylan. How's your week been?"
"Not bad." He muttered, sweeping his dyed-black hair out of his eyes. I noticed another piercing on his eyebrow. His sullen blue eyes met mine. I often wondered if my patients could sense pity in my eyes. I hoped they saw a kindred spirit, a kid who had been there and knew exactly where they were coming from. I wanted Dylan to feel like he could overcome the sadness his parents gave him.
"On a scale of one to ten, how bad did that piercing hurt?" I pointed to the tiny silver hoop dangling above his eye. The skin around it was slightly puffy and red.
"Mmmm... wasn't too bad." Dylan looked down at his hands and shrugged.
"Last time we spoke you were telling me about your mother making a reappearance after three days on the run. How has that been?"
"Mom disappeared again. It was his fault, you know. I know it and he knows it, but he still said it's because of me. He hates me. He said I should just move out." Dylan huffed a breath and leaned back.
"Your father is a sick man, he can't see the mistakes he has made and he wants to hurt your mother. He does that through you. You aren't to blame. Can you still call your Aunt Sara?"
Dylan nodded. "I'm staying with her now. I haven't seen the old man in three days. He could be dead for all I know. I wish he was."
Our session continued as usual. Dylan revealed his fear of being alone, of belonging. His reaction to the pain in his world was to demonstrate with inappropriate behavior.
"I talked with Sam last night." Sam worked at the grocery store down the corner from the high school. He was incessantly happy and his good spirits were contagious. "He said he needs a little after school and weekend help at the store. Mainly restocking shelves and occasionally making deliveries. I recommended you to him. He would like to meet you. Do you think you might be interested?"
Dylan shrugged. "I guess I should be thinking about a job, since I can't go home. Aunt Sara can't keep me forever if I can't help out with the rent and all. Sure, I'll go see him. But--" Dylan looked over at me shyly, tucking an oily strand of hair behind his pincushioned ear, "--would you go with me?"
I couldn't help but smile. "Sure. " My stomach flipped. I felt suddenly dizzy and clamped my hand on my belly.
"I'm fine, just a little sick. How about I meet you at 2:00 at the Market?
"Wouldn't your boyfriend be worried? I mean, I look like someone you wouldn't want to meet in an alley, you know." He smiled very slightly.
"Michael has no say in the matter. This is just two friends spending time together, nothing more. Besides, I know how well you hide the sweet person beneath all that black and metal."
"Okay. I'll meet you Saturday. Oh. Thanks." Dylan scuffed through the door, lifting a hand in a departing gesture.
"No problem, Dylan. I'll see you Saturday." I hoped by Saturday I would be feeling better. I was not going to let this kid down.