1. Fever Dreams
She knew she should have put her foot down about taking this trip. His coughs were worse than before. He had been coming down with the flu for almost a week, but she had not been able to convince him to postpone their annual anniversary trip. It was a two-day drive and around noon she had ordered him to wrap himself in a blanket and lay down in the back. She had been driving for 4 hours straight and by now he was burning with a fever. So she had decided not to push for their destination for that day - another 4 hours away - but to look for a local hotel or guesthouse. Winter days were short and dusk was upon them when she saw the sign: Gasthaus Zum Jungen Hase, 3 kilometers.
A long 3 kilometers on the narrow winding road uphill, but it looked inviting and she left him sleeping in the car to check for vacancies. The buxom lady who had welcomed her had also helped her to get him up the stairs and into the cosy attic room. Se had told her not to worry about the car. She could place that in the shed after she had tended to her husband.
He had hardly woken from his fever-induced sleep when she had undressed him. Now he slept between the crisp white sheets in the old fashioned wooden bed.
She took in the surroundings for the first time - she could have been in a time warp. All the furnishing looked at least a hundred years old. Wallpaper with pink roses and pale green vines, a porcelain washbasin with a big jar, filled with water, the open fire, which had been lid by the landlady. She enjoyed the last rays of sunshine on the hilltops before she closed the burgundy, velvet curtains of the double doors, which led to a small balcony.
Turning around, she realised that the light was not electric either. It came from a beautifully decorated oil lamp with a big white porcelain shade.
She checked on her man once more and went down to put her car away and get her luggage.
He woke up in a strange room, feeling hot and sweaty. He called for his wife, but in the dim light a young woman in local dress got up from the chair beside his bed and helped him drink - hot lemonade with a dose of alcohol in it. He dozed off again, wondering where he was, who...
The next time he woke the room was darker than before, but his mind had cleared a bit. The fever had broken and he was just exhausted. He eagerly drank the thick chicken soup out of the bowl that was handed to him by the same woman.
He observed her in the little light that the oil lamp on the nightstand provided.
Her hair was pleaded and then rolled into two disks besides her ears. Her wide skirt and lace apron were long, halfway to her calves. A gold embroidered vest closed with a string in front so tightly that it pushed up her able breast in their thin cotton blouse.
He was overcome by a fit of coughing again, but his energy had returned. As he observed her cleavage, he felt a familiar stir in his groin.
He wanted to ask the woman where he was, to call his wife, but she signalled him to be silent.
She turned back the duvet and sat on the bed. Smiling she took his cock in her hands and started stroking him. He could not see her too well, now that she was beyond the circle of light, but he felt her cool teasing fingers all the more. Her strokes became firmer till she softly pulled on his cock every time her fingers made an upward movement. When he closed his eyes and relaxed, she stopped her massage.
He looked up again and saw her opening her blouse, till her fleshy breasts popped out. Still smiling she bent over him. She placed his cock in her cleavage with one hand and tickled his balls with the other.
