A Burning Fever

I kicked at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle them from my sweaty legs. They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet free and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very short time I would be shivering so badly that I’d be forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but for now I was just too hot. Damn fever!

The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I wouldn’t let him miss work. Besides, it wasn’t like he could do anything. I just had to sweat it out.

Literally.

The doorbell rang.

I squinted at the clock radio: just past 11 am. Who could that be? Not Sandra surely; I’d had Frank phone her last night to tell her I was sick and cancel our lunch date. I toyed with the notion of just laying in bed and ignoring the bell – it rang again – but decided against it. It might be important.

I slid out of bed, wrapped my thick robe around my now shivering body and walked slowly towards the door. The stairs gave me some difficulty – I was pretty dizzy – but I grabbed the handrail and took it one step at a time. It took a while – the bell rang again before I reached the bottom – but I eventually made it. Flushed and sweating, I opened the door.

It was a nurse, but dressed like no nurse I had ever seen before. She wore a white nurse’s uniform, but the skirt was very short, barely covering her thighs, and the neckline plunged down to the top of her breasts in a deep vee. She was extremely attractive – funny, it must have been the fever; I didn’t normally think of other women as attractive – with thick, red hair, a slender waist and long… long, stocking-clad legs…

I must have been staring at her legs where they disap- peared under the skirt – once again, it must have been the fever – because she cleared her throat to get my attention. If it hadn’t been for the fever, I’m sure my face would have burned with embarrassment.

She spoke. “Mrs. Blair?”

I nodded, croaking out a “yes.”

“I’m nurse Welles, from Homecare Inc.” She adjusted her little hat. “I’ve been hired to look in on you.”

That made sense. I assumed that Frank, or possibly Sandra, had decided that I needed some medical attention. Very thoughtful, really. “Come in.”

I took a step back from the door, but stumbled. I was still rather dizzy and weak. The nurse rushed forward and grabbed my shoulder, steadying me.

“Here,” she said. “You belong on your back.” She was right; a fresh wave of dizziness washed over me. She put her hand around my shoulders and helped me back up the steps. At one point, I stumbled, and she dropped her hand to my rear end to steady me. She kept it there for the rest of the journey, using it to control my progress. I was acutely aware of it…

Finally we reached the bedroom and she steered me into the bed. “Now you just lie there, honey,” she told me, pulling off my robe, “and let nurse Welles take care of you.”

Shivering, I fell back onto the mattress. The nurse fixed the pillow behind my head and then began straightening out the tangled sheets at my feet. I watched for a bit. In my feverish state, her movements seemed almost hypnotic. Her long, slender arms moving over my body; the way her red hair tumbled out from beneath the white cap bent over… I was quite unable to take my eyes off her. Eventually, however, the fever took hold and I began to drift away. I was so tired. I think I fell into a bit of a daze.

It was like I was dreaming. I felt my nightie – a long tee-shirt, really – being pulled up until it was bunched under my chin. Then a voice: “Just relax… relax… leave everything to nurse Welles… she’ll take care of you…”

I relaxed. Then I felt a pair of soft hands – *her* hands – running along the top of my chest and then down to my breasts. My breasts! I wanted to sit up and push those hands away – I’d *never* been touched there by another woman – but it felt so good. Those hands slid over my breasts, rubbing… massaging… tweaking my nipples…

I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh as those hands left my breasts and moved slowly across my stomach and down to my crotch.

“Just relax…” I felt her finger on the top of my pussy, just touching, teasing me… I moaned and thrust my hips up to meet that finger, but every time I did so, it moved away, not quite losing contact, but just enough so the pressure didn’t increase.

“Please…” Was that my voice begging? I must have been delirious. But it felt so good. After a few mo- ments, I felt her hands parting my thighs. I helped, opening my legs and thrusting upwards slightly with my crotch. I was rewarded with an extra bit of pressure, and let out a moan.

Then I felt something cool and wettish, sliding down between my legs and up against my rear-end. “Just relax…” It pushed up against my anus. I tried to clench my ass muscles to stop it from entering, but every time I tightened up, the finger left my clit.

Whimpering in frustration, I gave in and let her push the object into me. Further and further… and the deeper it went, the more pressure was brought to bear on my clit.

Why wasn’t I saying something? Why was I letting this stranger invade my privacy like this? But as that thought drifted through my mind, my body shivered at the pleasure this person was giving me.

I’d never had anything up there before, so it felt kind of strange. Hurt a bit, but the feelings of pleasure caused by the hand on my crotch more than made up for any discomfort. By now I was moaning and whimpering, feeling like I might come any moment.

The feelings built and built until I was thrashing about on the bed, humping my crotch into her roaming hand, trying, needing to…

…Ahhh… I sat up, drenched with sweat, pulling my soaked hand away from my throbbing crotch.

I’d evidently masturbated myself to orgasm while I was sleeping. That fever did strange things to me. I kicked at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle them from my sweaty legs.

They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet free and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very short time I would be shivering so badly that I’d be forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but for now I was just too hot.

Damn fever.

The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I wouldn’t let him miss work. Besides, it wasn’t like he could do anything. I just had to sweat it out.

Literally.

The doorbell rang…