Hot Hot Hot

I had been feeling off for a few days and in the wee morning hours, I conceded defeat and took my temperature... 40.9 degrees. I called my parents and asked them to help me with my son. My mum stayed with him while my dad drove me to the hospital. Bless them!

I was eventually hospitalized. The worst bit about being hospitalized was that I was supposed to have a date that afternoon!!! It was a movie date organized through a website but I had also corresponded with my date over e-mail and chat. I was really looking forward to it. I sent him a short message detailing why I had to take a rain check and hoped that he would cash it in at a later date.

I messaged my two close buddies what was going on... bemoaning the fact that it was probably God's will that I don't meet this guy. Later that day, at a decent hour, one of them messaged me, and offered to email my date, explaining that I was truly unwell enough to be hospitalized, that I wasn't trying to weasel my way out.

I was put on heavy antibiotics and felt exactly as I should be. That day was spent in a haze. My date messaged me his condolences... and asked if he could visit. I was like errr please, I feel like shit: I probably look like shit! Heck NO. Don't forget, I was in drab hospital wear that absolutely does NOTHING for my figure!

The next day, I was feeling a lot chirpier. I felt much better though my fever was still fluctuating. So when my date asked again if he could visit, perhaps bring me some tasty food for lunch... I agreed

He asked what I would like to have... and I decided on Century Egg porridge (a personal favourite despite how the eggs are made!) he also offered to bring magazines but I told him they actually have a decent selection here, so porridge and his company would be sufficient!

I was napping when he arrived. When I realized he was here, I sat up and blurrily reached for my specs. (Yea yea I'm short sighted. I usually wear contact lenses, sometimes coloured ones even)

He placed the tub of porridge on the adjustable table and ceremoniously handed me a long-stemmed rose.

Talk about a pleasant surprise.

He moved the table in front of me, helped me open up the tub and I tucked in. It was really good ... turns out it was from the famous Tiong Bahru stall! I almost licked that tub clean *blush*

While I ate, we talked. He was sitting at the foot of the bed and it was initially very awkward. Here I am with my bed head, specs and baggy pyjamas. Embarrassed by the looks my room mates were giving us (later on all the aunties were asking me about my boyfriend *eeek*) But I started to relax a lil bit, I found myself really intrigued by this decent looking man.

He certainly does not look like a DOM (Dirty Old Man for the uninitiated) or young punk. He's most certainly not a beng or yuppie either. Just... decent.

I don't remember what we chatted about. But most certainly, it was engrossing. We talked and laughed. He is definitely an intelligent man with a good sense of humour!

I found myself feeling very comfortable with him. He is also very much of a gentleman! When I finished my porridge, he put the tub away and pushed the table back to its place. We continued chatting and time flew by...

He had to return to the office. After a lot of dallying, adjusting my bed height to my comfort, regretfully for both of us, he left. My heart was all a flutter by then.

The rest of the day I spent in a daze... drug induced, like the day before, but this time, the drugs weren't a heavy dose of antibiotics...

The rose. A most lovely flower. Deep red and fragrant. The nurses, doctors, aides, fellow room mates were complimenting me on my lovely gift. A gift which I tore apart...

I plucked the rose petals slowly. One rose has many many petals. Smooth and clingy on one side, like cling-wrap. Velvety smooth on the other. Crush a handful to release their wonderful heady fragrance. (The other wonderful heady fragrance is jasmine!) Carefully wrap one petal with the clingy side onto each fingertip. Move hand down pants. Move aside panties. Play with clit. Massage pussy.

Heavenly.

Petals get damp and fall off or get disintegrated? Replace with newly crushed ones. Good thing one rose has many many petals. Luckily, being trained at orgasming as silently as possible helped.

(Training entails young son in next room, asleep after a long night of cajoling and pacifying : you *don't* want to wake him)

I kept wondering how he felt about me because I most certainly liked him! Fortunately I was not to live in a drawn out torture because he messaged me soon after and we kept up a conversation that way until nightfall...

He asked in one message if I liked the rose... I hinted that it would accompany me to sleep, in more ways than one *grin*

My buddies cautioned me that a busy businessman such as himself is only concerned with getting into my pants. After all, why else would he take the afternoon off from work, drive to buy specific porridge, visit me in a hospital and all locations are at different ends of the island! And of course he is such a gentleman... he's still trying to gain my affection... and perhaps a free fuck?

At that point, I was already enamoured of him and steadfastly refused to believe what my buddies were saying. They weren't impressed that he was also messaging me and calling from overseas either.

I was discharged a few days later when my temperature stabilized. My body temperature had regained normalcy but I was most certainly hot for him! I was almost out of rose petals by then and hoped that I would get to meet him again soon...

How will this end??? Only time will tell.