Cultivating Trust

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Dr. Hunt


The navigation system in the car brought me right to Dr. Hunt’s office as Brandt had mentioned. I loved the GPS in the car, as well as the car itself. Never having driven a new car, and a sports car to boot, I tried not to let it go to my head. The power, the upgrades I didn’t even know were possible, not to mention all the attention I got in that car rolling down the city streets, made me feel like a somebody.

The office reminded me of every other doctor’s office, but knowing the difficult questions I needed to ask made me nervous. My exam would be typical and the questions were embarrassing enough but I needed the information. It seemed unfair that Brandt knew more about my body than I did. I meant to change that today.

The expected questions were asked about why I was there, and they checked my height and weight. Brandt always complained about my eating habits, but I had been the same weight since high school, and it didn’t seem to bother the doctor when she commented on it.

Dr. Hunt turned out to be a very personable physician. My first impression of her was favorable given her sincerity, and even though I made snap judgments, I had to remember my judgment of people in the past wasn’t always sound. I didn’t really like Brandt right away and look how that turned out.

She stood a little shorter than me and had gray hair mixed in with her black, short-cropped hair. She had an accent from a foreign country and, when asked, she eagerly talked about her native Hungary. The name Dr. Hunt didn’t sound Hungarian, and when I mentioned it, she said she married into the name. Her husband was a doctor also, an endocrinologist who specialized in diabetes, which would explain how I got an appointment on such short notice.

Her motherly demeanor made me like her all the more. Although she had prematurely graying hair, she was not tempted to change it due to Hollywood pressure. With two small kids at home and an accomplished husband, it afforded her the time to work part-time taking me on only as a special favor.

“What brings you in today Ms. Moltke?” She sat down and didn’t sound rushed which proved a bonus since I had so many questions.

“I think I screwed up my birth control pills. I took them out of order, so I wouldn’t get my period but had some breakthrough bleeding. I am making my boyfriend use condoms, and I don’t think he enjoys it.”

She laughed, “No, they never do. Let’s take a look.”

For the last six years every time I had a pelvic exam, it brought me to the night in the emergency department when I found out I lost my child. The same reason why I didn’t want to give Brandt a chance in the first place. A six-year pain he was finally able to help me mend.

Holding my breath for most of the exam, I bore the uncomfortable parts. The cold speculum that always seemed to open too far, and then the feeling around for the ovaries which always made me need to pee afterward. When Dr. Hunt completed her exam, she asked me to dress as she stepped out. Just as I protested, reminding her I had more questions, she said she was not done talking, she just wanted to make me more comfortable, proving yet another reason I couldn’t help but like the woman.

Now back in street clothes, I settled down for a discussion to have all my questions answered. Dr. Hunt started, “Chelsea, we were unable to obtain all of your records yet from Wisconsin. Tell me about your past medical history.” I went through my brief history, starting with my pregnancy at eighteen, the miscarriage, and the painful menstruation starting afterward.

“Well, it sounds like a diagnosis of endometriosis. It is abnormal to start as early as you described but not unheard of. Your previous physician controlled the symptoms by use of birth control pills. I would suggest a change in dosage requiring you to take a small active ingredient every day, and we can forgo your menses altogether.”

“I would never have a period?”

“Yes, then the pain would be kept under control.”

The look of concern shone across my face, “If I never get a period then would I have trouble conceiving when I wanted to? I don’t want children now but when I do?” She shook her head and described, in laymen’s terms, what birth control pills would do in my body. I had never had someone take the time to explain it all to me so thoroughly.

“We will put you on a low dose of hormone to keep the endometriosis from affecting you every month. When you are ready to conceive, we remove the hormone and your natural hormones should kick in.”

“But I won’t get pregnant now?”

“No, women take somewhere around a thousand times the hormone needed for birth control. We are safe with a lower dosage without giving you time for menses.”

No period at all? Well, at least Brandt was getting his money’s worth out of this office visit. I talked about all my new experiences over the past month with Brandt. The ′Fifi′ position which caused some pain and the female ejaculation that scared me so much in Wisconsin. She explained it to me as a normal part of female sexuality causing a relief to wash over me. I could talk to her, and she didn’t make me feel stupid for mentioning what I didn’t understand.

“Chelsea, sex for you at this age can be whatever you want it to be. Orgasms, in general, for women only happen about seventy-five percent of the time through penetration at best. The sex life you are describing is better than a lot of other women can hope for. Men can ejaculate with very little stimulation. It takes more brain and emotional instigation for women. Both sexes get visually stimulated, but it varies from men to women. Some women get their stimulation from reading or watching erotica because of how it activates an emotional response. Don’t be afraid to experiment and please don’t feel like there is something wrong with you if you don’t always achieve an orgasm with each sexual intercourse.” Overall she told me I wasn’t frigid. Chalk another one up for Brandt.

She described the importance of foreplay for women. Although uncommon, female ejaculation happens and shouldn’t be alarming, and it did not cause any physical issues. Great, it just makes a huge mess then. I would definitely wait to ever try it again.

“Basically, nothing is off-limits as long as the two of you agree on what you want. There may be positions you don’t like, and that is fine. Do not feel pressured into doing them.”

I think of all that we had done so far, “Brandt is a very experienced lover. He has taught me a lot about my body, and you have helped to answer my questions. Thanks.”

She looked at me with a more serious look, “Chelsea, did you two talk about STIs before you had unprotected sex?”

“Yes, actually we did. Brandt gets tested every four months, and he even showed me the results.”

She looked down and then back at me, having a hard time broaching a subject. “I would like to put you on the same plan. I think we should test you too.”

“But I just said he went through the testing, and I did too before we had sex.”

“Chelsea, I am not going to make any assumptions about your relationship, but he is in the entertainment industry, and I have seen... well, things happen.” She alluded to the fact he was frequently propositioned by groupies and more.

It made me stop and think. I saw Brandt’s results, and I believed they were real. Should I get tested anyway? She saw my hesitation. “Chelsea, I like you, and I want you to be safe.”

It was her job as my physician to keep me safe but I didn’t feel as if I needed to keep this up on a regular schedule. “Okay, but I really have no reason to doubt him. I will do this once, but after the results come back negative, I don’t want to continue.”

She smiled, “I understand. I will get the paperwork, and the nurse will get the samples needed.”

They took a blood and urine sample and sent me on my way, explaining that the results would come in the next couple of days. I felt uneasy about getting tested, as though I somehow betrayed Brandt’s trust, but if the results were negative then it shouldn’t matter, right?

Leaving the doctor’s office, I made my way back to the house. A new house key waited for me on the kitchen island and I switched out the old for the new right away. It gave me a sense of relief. No more random women wandering around the house when I slept. He still seemed unhappy I fired his maid, but I didn’t mind keeping his house.

Realizing that I couldn’t put off my call back home, I muscled up my courage and talked with my mother. She didn’t seem surprised at all when I told her about me staying in California. When I asked to talk to dad, she covered up for him proclaiming he was busy and it told me all I needed to know. She could hear the emotion in my silence from across the phone lines. “Don’t worry, sweetie. He will come around.” I hung up and went through the tasks of cooking, thinking about how I disappointed my father yet again. Yes, his ideas were archaic but when you were a daddy’s girl, all you wanted to do was please him.

Dad had been right in the past. My ex-boyfriend, Dan, never placed high on my father’s list. He knew Dan would end up hurting me but I couldn’t see it at the time. He didn’t like Brandt either, but this time, our love seemed so different. It wasn’t infatuation with Brandt. Brandt treated me so much better than Dan. I really wanted to trust myself, so I refused to let any doubt ruin what we had. The thought made me uncomfortable, but this time it was real. Right?


Ron brought his shitty mood back with him today. We all managed to make some positive changes at the studio despite the kickback from our manager though, and I just wanted to tell him to get over it. I wasn’t going to let him ruin the best thing to come my way and thought of only her on the ride home. I entered through the door to the kitchen, where the most wonderful smell greeted me.

“Oh, that smells good.” I saw her over at the counter and came up behind her, wrapping my arms around her. I couldn’t help but kiss her on the neck. She hadn’t mentioned looking for a housekeeper and had been taking the time to clean up after me on her own. I didn’t need her to do the cooking for me either, although I found it somewhat pleasing to think she was here and taking care of me.

If I kept her busy, would she need a job? She hinted at it yesterday, but I didn’t like the idea. Part of me enjoyed having her here for me. I had always been independent, pushing away parents who were required to take care of me, only to find a woman who did it because she loved me. It felt so different.

“Did you find your key?” The locksmith came early enough this morning that I wasn’t late for the studio.

“Yes, and thank you for doing that, even though you thought it was unnecessary.”

“If it makes you feel at home, then it was necessary.” Leaning down, I kissed her nose, and she warmed in my embrace.

“I made it to the doctor.”

That made me smile, “And, did you like her?”

Chelsea looked at me quizzically, “How did you know she was female?”

“Do you really think I would let another man touch you?” Okay, that I guessed was a quirk of mine. I didn’t trust men around Chelsea. In Wisconsin, when I came onto her, she told me to piss off, but since we have gotten together, she talked to every guy she met. I didn’t say flirted, but I saw people with her. Yesterday, a guy in the grocery store talked to her about how to tell the ripeness of a melon while checking her out. Watching from another aisle, I couldn’t believe she didn’t think anything of it. When I alluded to it, all she said was, ‘He’s just being nice.’ She didn’t even think these guys were pursuing her but what I saw on their face didn’t portray friendliness entirely.

Never being jealous in the past, that was until Chelsea came into my life, it made every man into someone who could tear her away from me. She laughed it off saying she only had an interest in me and loved me. I trusted her. I did. I didn’t trust other men not trying to take her away because I would have been one of them. Before when a woman told me about a boyfriend, or worse, a husband, I only looked at it as a challenge. And now with Chelsea, my jealousy was my penance.

“Well, I really liked Dr. Hunt. We talked a lot.”

“Do I get to throw out my supply of rubbers now?” She overreacted to changing up her birth control and I waited for her to acknowledge it feeling smug.

“Actually, you can. We should be safe as far as any pregnancy concerns.” I tried to not rub it in as she went on, “But I voiced my concerns about the amount of sex we were having. I told her my theory of having a set amount of heartbeats. You know, you only have so many heartbeats in a lifetime. She agreed with that. She said that there were only so many, well... you know... orgasms in a lifetime and since we have had sex so much, we need to stop for a while.”

What? Stop? When I saw the smirk on her face, I realized she had played me. Nope, not going to fall for that. I laughed, “You did not, you little shit. I should take you upstairs and bang you just for saying that.” I turned her around and kissed her neck. She kissed me back, moaning into my mouth, and my thoughts drifted back to the banging part. With Chelsea, I always thought about the banging part.

The kiss didn’t last long enough as seemed distracted, pulling away from me. “Brandt, the roast is done. I don’t want it to burn.”

My hunger wasn’t for food anymore and my hand reached for her nipples through her cotton shirt. “I don’t really care if I ever eat again right now. Just tell me I don’t have to grab a rubber.” She tried to stop me, but I knew she wouldn’t. She could never stop me when I got this way.

“We won’t need those again.”

“Good.” I pushed her against the corner countertop and removed her shirt.

“Brandt, shouldn’t we go upstairs?” Ignoring her halfhearted requests, I continued to undress her. “Brandt...” Now with her topless, I licked at her nipples and bit one, which sent her into a frenzy.

“We were going to christen every room in this house. Today is going to be the kitchen.” I removed her shorts leaving her panties for now. She tried one last time, “Brandt where would we...” Taking my finger and gripping the side of her panties tight, I ripped the underwear off her body in a show of masculinity I had only done with her, making her give an unexpected giggle. How I loved to do that. I lifted her on the countertop and continued to go at her nipples. She loved rougher play with those tight little buds, and I felt her body respond. I couldn’t wait anymore and removed my pants enough to let out my hard cock.

I was just about to enter her when I stopped and checked to make sure she was wet enough. My finger had no resistance, as I would have guessed, but I had assumed before and hurt her when we were first together and still worried I could read her wrong because of it. I only had one other long term girlfriend but not like Chelsea. My ability to figure her out was getting easier but by no means would I admit to being an expert when it came to her.

With no more obstacles in my path, I entered her deeply. She felt amazing as I sunk deep into her wet, swollen folds. She clung to me, trying not to fall off the countertop, and I held her still. I liked this position. The counters were at a good height, and I kept up on my thrusts. I tried to vary my speed and my lunges, but after a while, I got the feeling her overactive mind prevented her from giving in to the pleasure. Damn it. What was she thinking about now? I needed a way to minimize her distractions. She became preoccupied so easily, and I looked forward to the day she wouldn’t over-think every situation and submit to me.

Keeping up a steady rhythm, I tried not to give up hope of a mutually pleasing experience. I couldn’t help but think I would eventually crack the code to Chelsea. Of course, I contemplated not finishing on my end, but I knew Chelsea would blame herself. When my balls started to tighten to my body, there was no stopping. The sensation hit me, and I finished. It wasn’t as enjoyable since Chelsea didn’t get anything out of it.

“You didn’t come.” She winced a little at that. One of her words she thought of as crude.

“The doctor said it is normal for me not to all the time, Brandt.” I brought my pants back up all the way and helped her off the counter. She dressed, and I caught her looking at the counter and I realized the source of her distraction.

“Chelsea, I plan on having sex with you in every room and outside on every part of the lawn. When we are done with that, I guess I will have to think of new and improved areas. You won’t be able to just throw that in the washing machine.”

She started to laugh, and I knew I hit the nail on the head. “Give me time. It is still a lot to take in.”

I kissed her nose. “You have my time. As much as you need.”

“Great, now wash up and come back to the counter.” I rolled my eyes but did as she instructed. I watched her quickly remove the roast and let it cool on the stovetop. Yep, I couldn’t help but think that was how I wanted her all the time. Embarrassed, I looked away knowing my thoughts sounded so 1950s of me, but I loved how she wanted to take care of me. She left to find underwear and finish dressing. Maybe I could get her to eat naked? Nah, I needed to give her time.

We talked. We talked like we had known each other forever. Since our first date, it had been that way, and I hoped we’d never lose it. She told me of her phone call to her parents, not coming out and saying it, but I knew it was hard for her. Again, it reminded me of all she gave up being with me and I hoped I could be the person she needed me to be. Mentally, I tried to figure out how to make it right, especially when it came to her father.

Chelsea continued describing her day, describing the mini hormone pill she started for her endometriosis. I had not heard of that diagnosis but guessed it caused her to go on birth control after her miscarriage. As long as it helped her, I was happy, and well, I couldn’t say I wouldn’t be benefiting from it too.

She told me about all the items she talked with the doctor, and I laughed at the thought. Her quirks prevented her from saying certain words. It must have been like talking to a mime. She even brought up her own STD testing, and I surprised her when I agreed with Dr. Hunt. “Chelsea, I have nothing to hide.” She noticeably relaxed. I never glazed over my past sexual experiences, but we didn’t talk about it. She said she knew I had been with a lot of women, but she didn’t know the half of it, and I had the feeling she would not approve, but she had to understand I was like a young kid being let in a candy store with an unlimited amount of money. When I started to get famous, there weren’t many nights I spent alone and fewer nights with the same person.

Chelsea always looked at what we did as making love. I could agree with her but what I did in my early years was plain fucking. Raw sexual encounters and I wouldn’t necessarily take it back as I felt it was useless to regret what had happened, but I also knew some of it would be hard for someone as pure as Chelsea to understand. What I did with those women was nothing like love. I wasn’t looking for it, and I honestly didn’t think I would ever find it. When she came into my life, it hit me like a ton of bricks. No, she would not know about my history knowing my only thoughts were about Chelsea and our future.

When she agreed to go to the studio with me tomorrow, I smiled. My life could not get any better. The thought should only be a happy one but also gave me a small feeling of dread. A nervousness that it could all crumble and I could lose the best thing in my life. I couldn’t help but wonder what was lurking for me around the corner?

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