Chapter 2: Doc Roberts
An open window revealed a cool, still night with just a hint of deep blue on the horizon. The chirping of crickets and toads broke the silence, yet lulled with hypnotic rhythm. Cool air slowly descended into the bedroom of one Beatrice Annabelle Gehrt bringing gentle relief from the dry, wheat field heat of one more Kansas summer day come to a close. Nothing was cool, however, in Bea's bed.
Bea, the eldest of four farmer's daughters, blessed with pale, creamy skin, golden locks of hair, and a bosom to make even Doc Roberts blush, (oh but he was never in his usual hurry when Bea was the patient, never indeed), lay perspiring in her night blouse, head shifting to and fro, eyes shut tight, legs apart, lower lip in the grip of perfect teeth. Her fingers attempted in vain to bring an encore to her first sexual experience of her life. A real, live, terrifying...exciting...Indian brave actually kissed her private girl area. French kissed, in fact, or something very close to it, after sneaking up on her afternoon bath in the barn.
The kissing...the burning fire of her nether...the aching of her breasts...the overwhelming explosion of senses when she...when she...when she just exploded all over his face. His oily, sunburned, savage mouth lapped up her spilled nectar. That's it...feel his tongue flicking up and down...pushing on her swollen pink clit...
Bea gasped in bed, her writhing body shaking as her young pussy came for the second time that day, soaking her sheets, making her hand slick with her own hot juices. Sleep at last.
The next morning, young, buxom Bea, eldest daughter of two hard-working, prairie farmer parents became scared. Her abdomen hurt and head ached like it usually did for a few days each month, but, unlike every other month, she'd just been touched by an Indian savage. Not just touched...
tasted...penetrated.
This made her very nervous. She'd seen Papa breeding his horses and watched, mesmerized, as the stallion's big horse cock drove into the mare's tail again and again. Then, come Spring, a little foal was born.
Did that Indian make a baby inside me?
Bea's mom knocked on her bedroom door.
"Come in."
"Beatrice Annabelle Gehrt, what on God's earth are you still doing in bed? And my heavens, but you look positively feverish!" Mrs. Gerht walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, placing the back of her hand to Bea's forehead. "You're all sweaty. I'm going to ask Charlie, (the traveling milk & bread merchant), to ask Doc Roberts to come over here and see to your condition."
With that, Bea's mom went back downstairs and brought back up some eggs and fruit to eat. Bea wanted to tell her mom what happened,
so bad,
but she didn't want anything bad to happened to that young, muscular Indian, with those wild eyes, and long black hair.
Maybe Doc Roberts will make me feel better.
Doc Roberts finally arrived at the house, shortly after lunch time. Bea, who hadn't left her room all morning except to pee, could hear hot tea being served downstairs and Doc Roberts asking what he was there for and what could he do to help. When her Mom mentioned her name, the Doc drank his tea quickly, and hurriedly sought out Bea's bedroom.
Before he climbed the stairs, with one foot on, he turned his head back to Bea's mom, "Mrs. Gehrt, I may be awhile examining your daughter. There's definitely a bug going around town but I'll want to be thorough, and ask for privacy for your daughter's sake. Perhaps you could keep the water hot so I can tell you what I discover over some more of your delicious tea."
The clunk of boots, surprisingly ginger, rose up the stair and then stepped up to Bea's door. From through the door, "Bea, dear, it's the good doctor calling. Your mom asked me to pay a visit." Without asking, Doc Roberts turned the knob, entered, and closed the door behind him. His black doctor's bag hit the floor next to her bed with a thud. He removed his over coat, that he wore all the time no matter how hot the day was, and threw it down on her writing desk by the window. Dragging her desk chair behind him, he came back over to her bedside and sat down on the chair. Rubbing his hands together, he stooped and reached into his doctor's bag, and then put a stethoscope around his neck, now looking quite doctorly.
Bea noticed his eyes and his mouth. His eyes had a glint of excitement in them, much like her younger sisters on Christmas morning. Also, his tongue was licking his lips, almost nervously, again and again. Bea felt
so
uncomfortable.
"Now what seems to be the problem." Before Bea can answer, he follows with, "It sure ain't your looks. Hee hee hee." Something he's been teasing her with ever since her body started blossoming and she started her monthly period. He pulled the covers down from her neck and laid them to rest over her abdomen, exposing her large breasts and navel. Bea, embarrassed, turned her head away from his face, not wanting to watch his eyes dirty her under their stare. She cursed her nipples, which slowly grew stiff, the pink nubs, sprouting outward in full view of the Doc's staring eyes. She tried to concentrate on a bird, chirping away on the tree outside her window, as the doc used the stethoscope on her.
It was cold, as it ever was, and he moved it very slowly, lingering on the pale, smooth skin of Bea's chest and stomach. When the backs of his fingers brushed against her hard nipples, her pussy flashed hot with wanting. All she could think about was that brave licking and licking down there.
She knew his stethoscope told him all he needed to know about her breathing, but as usual, since she's had them, he laid his head, ear down, onto her chest, right between her breasts and listened, or feigned listening. She felt his warm breath waft across her right nipple, the scruffy beard scratchy against her tender skin. She breathed deeply for him, as he instructed, and they both watched her breasts heave up and down, the pink nipple buds swaying slightly as they pointed outward.
At long last, he lifted his head from her and said, "You look very pale, my dear. Are you in pain? Are you scared about something?" Then, sniffing his nose a bit, "Ah, what is that scent?" Before she could answer, again, he picked up her nearest hand and sniffed, a look of confiding smugness on his face. He held her fingers up to his scruffy, bearded face, and surprised her by deeply inhaling the lingering scent on them.
Holding her hand in both of his, "You're growing up very fast. Very fast, indeed. Soon all the boys, and some of the men, even, will have their eyes on you. "
Doc Roberts was the very first, to be sure.
"My insides hurt, you know, from my period I think", stated Bea, pulling the covers back up over her boobs, embarrassed that her nipples hardened and itched while on display for this man. "And there's something else."
Bea told him what happened, the Indian and all, and at the end of the telling, noticed that his brow was sweating, and that his hand, deep in his trouser pocket, was moving back and forth inside.
"So you see, Doc Roberts, I'm afraid that he made a baby inside of me!" Bea broke into tears at that moment, covering her face in her hands. "I don't know what to do!"
