Impregnating Sarah — Part 1

Impregnating Sarah — Part 1

Meeting Sarah

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.