All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old
*
Sally Martin finished her 30-minute circuit, pulled on her thick gray hoody sweatshirt and walked briskly from Curves to her parked Nissan. She loved how her body felt after her workouts. She was relaxed, yet stimulated; a little achy, but in a good way. She also liked the sensation of her perspiration drying against her skin and looked forward to showering, in private, with her loofah scrubby. As she started up the Altima and headed for home she said aloud, "Don't think I'll need 'Monster' for a while, though!" However, she rejected the idea of throwing her huge, purple acrylic dildo away, deciding instead to simply store it in its box somewhere.
Her mind was consumed with the news of the morning: Her father, her brother, her lover, all were the same 57-year old man she had not seen in six years. "Am I horrid to be thankful Mother died?" She asked herself, "That was the catalyst that brought Claude back into my world." Sally sighed. "No, it's not wrong!" She exclaimed, inadvertently hitting the horn button, causing the driver ahead of her to flip her off in his rear view mirror and then make his right hand turn more slowly than otherwise he would have done.
The thought, the memory, of Claude fucking her long, hard and deep made Sally involuntarily crunch her gut, scooting her bottom forward and back on the car seat. "I loved Mother," she said, continuing her monologue, "And I love Claude all the more, knowing they... MADE me!" By the time she arrived home and parked in the garage, Sally was solidly resolved to do everything possible to keep Claude close and fill a previously ignored hole in her world.
Walking into the house, Sally saw her 18-year old daughter, Nel, in the kitchen buttering some toast. "Hi Mom!" she said, cheerfully, as if she had not seen her uncle laying the wood to her mother only two hours ago. "How was the workout? Isn't Uncle Claude with you?" she asked.
"Hi, hon,'" Sally replied, grateful for the change in attitude from the Nel's odd snotty remark in the hall earlier. "Yeah, I feel great, thanks, and no, your uncle took his own car because he wanted to go get clothes for the services, I think." She smiled and winked, "Besides, guys like to exercise harder and longer than we do, don't you think?" She looked at the kitchen clock, saw it was just 8:00 a.m. and added, "Heck he's probably still pushing the rowing machine across Lake Michigan!" Sally and Nel laughed aloud together as each imagined Claude in a rowboat in a Great Lakes storm.
"Yeah, probably!" Nel concurred between chortles. "So, do you want some toast, Mom?" she asked, pointing to the open bag of 7-grain sandwich bread on the counter.
"Maybe later, Nel," Sally answered, "Right now I want a shower. See you in a bit..." Her voice trailed off as she walked past the teen and headed to the master bedroom, pulling her sweatshirt off as she went.
"I bet you DO feel 'great,'" Nel thought, biting into her toast. "I know I FELT 'great' when Uncle Claude and I 'worked out.'" She smiled, smugly satisfied her mother was unaware of how she and Claude had been carrying on.
*
Sally appeared in the living room an hour later scrubbed, refreshed and made up. Nel looked up from the Cosmopolitan issue she was reading and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You're kind of dressy," she observed, noting the tailored linen shirtdress, stockings and high-heels. "I guess I figured you'd be kinda layin' low for the next few days."
Sally smiled at the teen. "There must be a compliment in there somewhere," she said lightly. "Thank you." She walked over to the sofa where Nel was curled up in her robe and squirrel slippers. "Still reading that trash, I see," she said, affably. "Whatever happened to 'Seventeen', 'Girl's Life' and 'In Style'?"
"Oh Mom!" Nel said, half-exasperated, "I not a 17-year old girl...THAT's what happened." She chuckled to take the edge out of her voice. "Or hadn't you noticed?" She smiled, thinking to herself, "Uncle Claude sure has noticed!"
"Yes, I know, hon'," Sally said, "I get it. Anyway, answering your question, I have a hair appointment and a few errands to take care of and I don't know what all. Just didn't want to be all casual, I guess." She bent down and kissed her daughter. "You OK here alone for awhile? Or are you going to go visit some friends?"
"Mom! It's a Thursday..." Nel answered, "I'm only off because of Grandma dying."
"Oh, well I thought the principal said you wouldn't miss too much school because today was a scheduled in-service day for teachers and there were no classes." Sally reminded her.
"Oh yeah, I forgot, I guess." Nel admitted. "Well, I might call Megan later but I'll stick around. If that changes I can text you, right?" She asked.
"Absolutely," Sally agreed, "That works for me. Gotta go now, LOVE YA!"
"Bye," Nel answered, returning to '13 Tricks Guaranteed To Make Him Beg For Mercy.'
*
Sally did have a hair appointment, but her first errand was to Dr. Wilson's office. "I hope he can see me for a quick minute!" She thought as she parked the Nissan and walked into the medical building housing her HMO physician. At 10 o'clock, just as Claude was looking for suits at The Men's Wearhouse and Nel was gearing up her wood-elf coercer for a new adventure, a nurse poked her head through the lobby door and called, "Mrs. Martin? Doctor can see you now." Leading the way to an examining room she stopped and said, "Kick off your shoes and step on the scale, please."
Sally stood straight on the scale as the nurse adjusted the head-bar and slid the counterweights. "68 inches, 146 pounds," she said, annotating the chart in her hand. "This is a consultation about...?"
"...about a question I have for the doctor," Sally replied, firmly indicating no additional information would be forthcoming.
"OK, well," the nurse sniffed, "have a seat. Doctor will be with you shortly."
Michael Wilson was an excellent doctor whose genial manner was enhanced by his non-threatening average looks, male pattern baldness, short stature, and ready smile. He always entered the exam room beaming confidence, prepared for anything a patient might throw at him. Even so, he was inwardly surprised to hear Sally ask about emergency contraception and birth control. She was attractive, a young 38 years, in good physical condition, but in the five and a half years he'd been her doctor, the topic of sexual activity had never been broached.
"Is this forward thinking, or an immediate concern?" Dr. Wilson began, neutrally.
"Umm, well..." Sally hesitated, her bravery waivered. Taking a breath she continued, "It's pretty immediate, I think." She searched the doctor's face for his reaction but saw none. "I, uh, met a man and, one thing led to another and we had intercourse, with me not thinking about being midway through my cycle. He was also unprepared and so I am concerned I could be ... you know, pregnant." By the time Sally finished she was shaking slightly.
"I see," said the doctor, calmly. "So, you have heard about the so-called 'morning after pill' and wonder if you can safeguard yourself now, is that it?" Sally nodded and Dr. Wilson continued, "First, tell me when did the event occur? Time is a critical factor in these things."
"This morning. About 6, I guess," Sally said, dully, feeling like a fool that it happened at all and she had to confess it, even to Dr. Wilson, whom she trusted without question.
Wilson exhaled quietly. "That's very good," he said. "Let me tell you about the research so that you aren't working on coffee-klatch gossip and suppositions." Sally's head bobbed again and she smiled with relief, confident she had brought her question to the right person.
"If, in general, a thousand women have unprotected intercourse in the middle two weeks of their menstrual cycles, one may expect approximately 80 of them will become pregnant. So right off, you can see you have about an 8% chance you are pregnant, or, more optimistically, depending on your personal goal, a 92% chance you are NOT pregnant. The use of emergency contraceptive pills, or EC pills, tends to reduce this number by 75% to 20 women in a thousand, or a 2% chance of pregnancy." Dr. Wilson studied Sally, assuring himself she was getting and processing the information.
He went on, "The effectiveness of an EC pill is highest when it is taken within 12 hours of intercourse, although it has been found to be effective even up to as long a five days." Dr. Wilson touched Sally's left arm briefly. "Here's where the information is often misunderstood... the 'morning after pill' does NOT reverse a pregnancy. If you had an egg, ready and waiting for this man's sperm, and one of the little swimmers fertilized it, the pill will do nothing to prevent implantation and pregnancy." He paused. "It is NOT an 'abortion pill' or anything like that."
Sally raised her head. "So how does it work to reduce my chances?" she asked.
"Great question." Wilson praised her. "The EC pill is a larger dose of progestin than is found in the progestin birth control pills a woman might regularly take. Its function is to block the egg from being released." He paused again. "In other words, it shocks your system into stopping the ovum at the source. But anything downstream is fair game for the sperm."
"Let me not guess and just ask you: Was this a 'one-off' event? Do you want to have a child with this man?" Dr. Wilson pressed for a clear answer.
"I... might want his baby," Sally said truthfully, "But I think I would like to lower the chance that I am pregnant right now. I'd like to be able to plan it better, you know what I mean?" She asked, begging understanding.
"I know exactly what you mean." Dr. Wilson replied. "So, let me suggest that you take a prescription from me for progestin and begin immediately to start a birth control regimen. This is excellent for women in your age group and its side effects are easily manageable. There is a tricky aspect, however," he waited to make sure he had Sally's full attention, "It is absolutely critical that each day's pill be taken at the same time, or as close to the same time as possible. Could you be disciplined about that?" Wilson asked.
