Scratch what I said in the A/N in Chapter One (what was I thinking?). I did some deep, introspective soul searching recently (sarcasm) and found that what Bella is doing at her age is in fact, wrong. Actually, this shit would be wrong at any age!
I know, I know, what makes me so high and mighty and better than thou that deems me credible to judge Bella's actions? Well, dammit, she's my character and I'll judge her if I want to.
Her actions are wrong.
But you know what? That just makes them that much more fun to write ;)
By the middle of 9th grade, not only did my dad know that I was sexually active, with several different partners, but I think he was even beginning to accept it. Maybe "accept" isn't the right word though… More like he was coming to terms with the fact that he couldn't do anything to stop me from having sex. I loved sex.
That's why today, my dad was taking me to the OBGYN to not only renew my birth control prescription, but do an STD test as well.
I already know I'm clean down there though; that's one the advantages of fucking mostly virgins.
Right now, we were seated in the waiting room of Dr. Carlisle Cullen's medical practice. Cullen, Cullen… The name sounded awfully familiar, and yet I just couldn't put my finger on its source.
"Isabella Swan?" A receptionist was standing in the doorway of the room, clipboard in hand. Once I stood and nodded at her, she said, "Great, just follow me."
Unfortunately though, my dad took this as a cue to get up as well, throwing his magazine down on to the table. Now, my dad has caught me in some rather compromising positions over the years with several different guys on several different occasions; not that he did much to stop my activities nowadays anyway.
Having him stand in on my gynecologist appointment though? No, that was just too close for comfort, even for us.
After giving his hand a quick squeeze, I said, "Dad, actually… I think its best I just go in myself."
He settled for looking awfully relieved and opened up the discarded magazine as I followed the receptionist into the third room down the hallway.
"Alright, Isabella. Just have a seat there and Dr. Cullen will be with you shortly," she said and left with that.
A few minutes later, a different woman came in and asked me several questions about my medical history. I figured that the Doctor was too busy to be handling routine procedures like these when he could have someone else doing them for him.
After she left, it was more of the waiting game.
And then suddenly, in walked Carlisle Cullen. Now, I had already heard plenty about the doctor's good looks, and was certainly finding those descriptions to be appropriately founded. However, there was a definite sophisticated, mature feel about him that even without the lab coat, I would doubtlessly know that he was the doctor.
"Here we go…Isabella Swan," he said, reading my name from the file he held in his hands. "Dr. Cullen," he said, introducing himself. He shook my hand firmly.
"Nice to meet you, Doctor." I didn't actually know if it was nice to meet him, but Dr. Cullen was making me pretty nervous and it seemed like the right thing to say.
He gave me a sorta funny look then. He was looking rather intently at my face, and it was making me uncomfortable.
He swiftly pulled out a little stool and reopened the file. This gave me a chance to sit back and watch him. I was glad that we didn't have to talk for a while.
I passively noted the ring on his left hand as his eyes follow the movements of his index finger, probably reading what I was in for.
I also noted that he had really hairy arms, but was wearing a nice looking watch anyway. How did he keep the hair from catching in there? It was probably painful.
All the while, he was quietly muttering things to himself, probably preparing for the appointment. "Swan… 15 years old… Birth control… Routine checkup…"
Abruptly, he closed the file and said, "Okay, Isabella, now I'm just going to have you answer a few questions for me…"
He tugged at his collar then, cracked his knuckles, moved the stool backwards, creating an awful screech sound, and then decided to move the stool back up again.
It was then that I realized that although the Doctor certainly seemed calm and cool standing still, he was definitely sort of… odd. He looked uncomfortable, more so than I was, and I was the one in for the appointment!
He started with his questions then.
"Are you sexually active, Isabella?" I felt an almost instinctive urge to prompt him to address me as "Bella" but then decided against it, deciding that my full name sounded more mature.
"Yes." I hadn't had any sex in nearly a week though.
"Does this include oral sex?"
"Yes," I replied. Blowjobs were a pretty casual thing now, having lost the novelty they first presented in middle school. Really they were only done if there wasn't enough time or accessibility for sex, as more and more girls began to spread their legs in my class.
"And how many sexual partners have you had?" More collar tugging from him.
"Does this include oral sex?" I questioned, because then those numbers would be incredibly different. I only really asked the question though so as to give the illusion that I was giving real thought to my answer.
"Yes."
I was embarrassed to say the real number so I settled with saying "five," a gross understatement, but he didn't have to know that.
He startled a little at this, but continued with the questions.
"When was the last time you had sex?"
"Six days ago," I replied, and I was definitely feeling some pent up frustrations down there.
I don't know why, but I felt like I was indulging him with answering these awfully personal questions. And yet I never protested.
"And how often do you have sex?" Strangely, now, there wasn't very much apprehension or discomfort coming from the Doctor at all. He looked almost… resolved, was it?
"Um, I don't know, really. Just whenever the opportunity presents itself?" He looked at me blankly, so with my eyes firmly affixed on the ground, I elaborated, "A few times a week."
He let out a soft sigh at this, but I was still refusing to meet his eyes; I didn't know if that was a good or bad sigh. As my gynecologist, it would be bad. But otherwise… He was a man after all.
I guessed that we were done with the question portion of the exam now, because he had me remove my jeans and panties, lie down on the cot, and put my feet in the stirrups.
He hadn't looked down at my pussy yet, but when he did, he turned a little red in the face.
Why did it feel like I was doing something incredibly dirty, dirtier even than spreading my legs for a stranger at a high school party? I mean, he was my gynecologist, he was supposed to look down there. It shouldn't be awkward for him, an experienced practitioner at this point in his career. So why did it feel so dirty (in a good way of course)?
Oh yeah, probably because he looked like he wanted to fuck me.
I had shaved my pussy in preparation for the appointment, so it certainly did look all prettied up today.
He looked up at me and then coughed very pointedly, as if I had offended him somehow. I could feel more than see him reverting back to his previous awkwardness.
"Well, that's that," he muttered. I was confused, what's what? Was that the conclusion of the exam? I felt sort of relieved, being saved from the awkwardness of the situation, but at the same time a little let down. Wasn't he going to touch me at all?
He was weird, no doubt, but I still wanted to him to touch me.
Turns out I had no cause for worry though, because he promptly pulled up his stool until he was mere inches away from my crotch. My… kind of hot and bothered crotch at this point
He took his middle finger and rubbed my pussy, passing over my clit a couple times. Then, he slipped his finger right in to me.
"Do you ever have trouble reaching orgasm during sex, Isabella?" he asked.
Apparently, the question part of the exam wasn't over.
And to my utter mortification, my pussy was growing wetter and wetter by the second. I covered my face with both of hands. He said softly, "Don't worry, that's a completely normal reaction."
And then I realized something, his finger was inside of me, moving in and out, without a glove. Not to mention, there didn't seem to be a whole lot of inspecting or examining going on down there. As invasive as his question had been earlier, this was when I knew for sure that this was no ordinary exam.
So I began to play along.
"No, Doctor, I never have problems cumming during sex," I said, a little breathily. Neither my response nor my breathiness was contrived though.
He added an additional finger.
"Isabella, you do understand what's happening, don't you?"
"Yes," I reassured him because yeah, he could use the reassurance.
"Spell it out for me," he demanded. And I was pleased to see some of that resolution from earlier grace his face again.
"You want to fuck me."
"And will you let me?"
"Yes," I said.
He shifted from his stool at this, standing up to drop his pants and his boxers. On his face was a determined, almost angry sort of decision being made.
I leaned up on my elbows to see what he had going on down there. It was a very nice, fat cock indeed.
"You ready?"
I nodded my assent, I was very fucking ready.
He slipped in to me cautiously. He gently probed me a couple times, awkwardly, experimentally almost. I wondered if he as checking how tight I was.
And oh, fuck, now was really not the time for his discomfort to reemerge. And he seemed to agree with me on that point, as he thrust in to me more decisively.
"Shit," he said, letting out a sharp hiss. I guessed that I had passed the exam, no pun intended.
"Fuck, that's wet." And wet it was, we made a sort of sopping sound every time he slipped in and out. I still wasn't completely comfortable with all of the sounds of sex and this embarrassed me a little. "You like that, don't you? You like me fucking your pussy."
I merely nodded.
And then suddenly, he transformed, exhibiting all of the sexual prowess I would expect from an older, more experienced man.
His thrusts quickened and deepened, making it oh, so good, as he sucked on the skin of my neck.
"Shit, that's nice, isn't it?" He brought his face up to mine now, very nearly pressing his lips down to mine, but not quite. I found that I didn't want him to though, I wanted him to concentrate on the amazing things we was doing to me down there.
"Fuck… Fuck me," I said. "My father's in the waiting room," I blurted out. I don't know why I said it, but I did, because I was thinking about it.
He looked at me intently and then really began to pound in to me.
The feel of him inside of me, hitting all of the right places, made me come all over his cock as he continued to thrust in to me.
Soon after, his thrusts became a little jerky and shallow as he came inside of me, muttering and moaning in my ear all the while. He pulled out of me with a moan.
He still looked a little hard though, so he decided to put it back inside of me.
He didn't move, didn't talk, just laid there… with his cock nestled deep inside of my pussy, breathing heavily onto my neck.
It was a little awkward for me personally; most guys that I'd had sex with didn't usually stick around after cumming, not that I minded. But I just decided to shut up and let him have this.
After about a minute of this, he pulled out again. He wiped himself off quickly and tucked his cock back inside his pants.
"Isabella," he said formally. "Put your clothes back on."
I realized now that regardless of age, guys were dicks all around. He didn't even give me a towel to clean up. He's lucky that I didn't really mind.
He pulled me back up to a sitting position and slapped my face twice, semi-gently, as if I'd been a good little girl that had just served my God given purpose.
Damn, where had that bumbling, awkward idiot from the beginning of the appointment gone? He probably felt like he was on top of the world right now.
He showed me to the door and I made my way down the hallway, with my hair disheveled, cheeks blushing, and my pussy making a distinct squish squish sound as I walked.
My dad got up as soon as he saw me. "Finally," he huffed out, impatiently. I didn't blame him.
As I walked out of the office, the name suddenly clicked. And I had never felt dirtier, in a good way of course, in my whole life.
A/N: Leave a review, please? Let me know if you'd like to read more.
I'm writing another story as well, one that's far more serious (which isn't a difficult task to accomplish because, really, this one has absolutely no plot). Anyway, it's unlikely for that story to have lemons (never say never though) so this is where I'm getting it all out!
