Elle was to be in her senior year of high school and had just turned eighteen over the summer. Fall was now rolling in and she was heading back class in roughly a week meaning there were lots of things to be done in preparation. She would be picking up her books, shopping for her new uniforms, and attending a plethora of doctor's visits for routine check ups and vaccines. Anxiety pitched as the days drew nearer and she wondered if this year would be better than the last.
The girl in question was shy, but pretty in a non-threatening girl next door sort of way. Her body was sun kissed and berry brown from spending most of the summer at the beach with her family - all save the parts covered by her bikini which stood stark white in contrast. Her nose was graced with a scattering of freckles and soft green eyes stared out from beneath thick lashes that kissed the apples of her cheeks whenever she blinked. Golden brown hair hung in unruly curls that cascaded down the middle of her back. Her style was bookish and meek. Large glasses sat perched upon the button nose with round wire frames, white keds adorned her feet - the style of the day when not in school was frequently jeans and a t-shirt.
The last year had been rough for her, always something of a social outcast, more for the fact that she was quiet than anything else - yet she'd found herself the target of a few mean girls who teased her mercilessly for the fact that she was a late bloomer. Until junior year she'd been flat as a board and after that only a small A cup. Her public hair hadn't filled in completely and was sparse and wispy across her mound; this matched with narrow hips and a small voice, but summer had been good to her. She'd gone up a whole cup size and was finding curves elsewhere as well. Still, she dreaded going back to school.
This day, in particular, was Monday a week out from the first day of school and the morning of her first Gyno appointment. "You're filling out. It's time you see him. You'll love Dr. Richards, honey. I've been seeing him for as long as I can remember. You know, he's the very same doctor that did your delivery?" And there was a wistful sigh as Elle's Mom was clearly thick with nostalgia. "You were such a cute little thing..." and cold fingers would slide along Elle's cheek to impart two small pats.
"Mom, come on... really?" A groan of the teenage variety - full of light rebellion and general agitation filtered past her lips as Elle leaned herself over the kitchen counter until her cheek was flush with the granite - arms sprawled out as though she were on the verge of giving up on life, "Please don't make me go. It's weird and gross..."
A laugh from Elle's mother was followed with, "It isn't. I want you to get that HPV vaccine, honey."
"Mom..." Elle righted herself as her pink cheek drug across the counter were her fingers would find a place to settle upon the edge, "I haven't even had sex. Ugh, I can't talk to you about this..." Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and she'd spin on the heel of one white ked and turned to march upstairs.
"Do you want me to drive you? It's just up the street, honey. Make sure you shower first..." and there would be the sound of dishes filling the sink, the clink tink of porcelain knocking against itself and running water.
"Please no..." were the last words of Elle as she marched herself up to the bathroom and began stripping down. Her navy t-shirt was pulled over her head letting bounce free two pert little breasts that bounced like ripe peaches on a tree - no bra beneath. Fingers fiddled with the buttons of her jeans before she'd tug them south and kick off her sneakers as clothes collected in a puddle of her feet.
Finally, her thumbs hooked into the elastic of white cotton panties and they were shoved south to expose the 'v' between her thighs. For a long awkward minute Elle paused then to stare at her reflection in the mirror unsure if she liked what she saw. Some days it felt like she was looking in a funhouse mirror with all the changes she was going through. A hand drifted down her stomach to play through a light patch of pubic hair wondering if it was rude not to shave for the doctor. Would he care? Would he notice? Would not shaving make her seem unkempt? Her brows pinched together as she turned to twist the knob for the shower. Then there was a long few minutes she'd wait for it to heat up while continuing that deep inspection of every part of her body. Nipples were tweaked, her bottom was smoothed over with the flatness of her palm, her tummy was sucked in tight and then released with a heavy exhale.
For a fleeting moment she felt like she might cry - just the thought of going in alone for such a weirdly intimate exchange seemed overwhelming. She hadn't even been fingered by a boy yet; just some over the clothes rubbing and making out. Stepping into the shower she was pelted with a thousand tiny droplets of hot water. Her hand trembled ever so slightly as she picked up a razor that she'd only ever used on her armpits and legs before and with a slathering of shave gel across her mound she'd begin scraping the hair off with long determined strokes, watching as it washed down the drain. By the time she finished she felt completely smooth between her slender thighs - a hand working between them to check for any small hairs she might have missed. There were none. She'd been efficient anyway. Hair was then washed, body sudsed up with cucumber melon body wash, and face scrubbed; Elle stepped from the shower and toweled herself off.
A short while later and she was dressed again in the same jeans but different panties, she'd worn a bra this time beneath a red t-shirt that read 'Go Titans!' Her school's mascot. Her feet slipped back into her white sneakers and she meandered down stairs to snatch the car keys off the kitchen counter, "I'll see you later, Mom... Love you."
"Love you, honey! Be brave!" That familiar maternal voice sang from the kitchen as Elle charged out the door which swung shut behind her with a loud click.
Time spent in the waiting room only gave Elle more time to work up her anxiety. She'd met Dr. Richards several times; he almost felt like part of the family - like a distant uncle that you saw over holidays maybe. He was roughly around fifty years old and sported a thick chocolate beard. His hair was short and neat, cut closer on the sides - if anything he seemed kind of hip for his age. He wore sneakers with his scrubs, anyway. All in all he wasn't a bad looking guy for being half a century old; about 6'2" and brawny with well muscled limbs, thick digits, and a shock of chest hair that peaked through the 'v' of his collar. It was weird, to her, that she'd be seeing him now as her own doctor. In the past, any time she'd gone with her mother he'd had a lollipop for her and a pat on the head - now though, she was an adult and their relationship was shifting.
