All characters appearing or mentioned in this story are 18 years old or older. This story is a work of fiction and any reference or description to actual persons is unintentional.
If you are enjoying these stories, leave a comment about what you liked or didn't, or things you want to ready more of. I'll take advice into consideration when I'm working out the next parts of the LoP stories.
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I don't get sick often. Probably from growing up in a warm, dry climate in southern California. But damn, when I do it feels like I'm going to die a slow, painful death.
Perhaps I'm over exaggerating, as most men do when they have the flu, but this time it was true. Just like it was true the next time I got sick.
In November of 1999, the rain brought with it the annoyance that is the common flu. I didn't know where I got it, since any number of people, let alone any number of women I've been in contact (i.e. had hot sex with) could have passed it along. Still, it was a moot point to think about as I laid in my bed, slowly dying, the rain pattering on the roof and windows.
I was in and out of napping when I heard my front door open and close. I heard little else after that and, being too weak to really do anything about it, decided it was the wind. Some rustling in my kitchen a little later convinced me that the wind sounded like it was making food.
"Hello," I called out. A few moments later footsteps came up the stairs. My door slowly opened to a sight I did not expect.
"Hey, sleepy head," Tess greeted as she came to my bedside with a tray laden with food. It smelled like soup and a sandwich, along with a tall glass of water and a whole lot of pills. She set it down on the chair in the corner.
For a woman in her early-30s, she looked much younger than her age. Her bob cut dark brown hair, kind hazel eyes and round face gave her a classical beauty that betrayed the absolute screamer she was in the sack. Today she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans rather than her usual chauffeur uniform. That meant that she went out of her way when she wasn't working in order to come visit. Emotions started churning up inside me that were hard to contain.
"What are you doing here?"
Tess took a seat near my arm. "I heard you were sick, so I brought some food and came to check up on you."
The wave of gratitude that hit me was hard to contain. I didn't know exactly how to feel, or how to express it. But she saw the struggle on my face and took on a look of concern.
"Are you ok," she asked. "Has no one ever brought you food when you're sick?"
"Not really," I told her. My relationship with my parents was not pleasant. There were reasons I emancipated myself at 16.
"Anyways," she said, "its just some can soup and a grilled cheese. I was also gonna offer to change your sheets cause it doesn't look like you've been up at all in two days."
"Pretty much," I said.
"Good thing I stopped by then," she said. Standing up, she helped me sit up and put the food tray on my lap.
"Eat," she ordered, "I'll go find some clean sheets."
I did as bidden. The food was appreciated, if tasting bland due to the forest growing on my tongue. Then she helped me up and sat me in the chair while she changed my sheets. I was naked, slumped in a chair, while a lovely woman tended to me. It would be enough to excite, were it not for the 'felt like dying' part.
"OK," she said after tucking in the sheet corners. "Now, lets get you cleaned up. Shower, medicine, and then more sleep."
She went and turned on the steam shower. Coming back into the room, she was now, delightfully, naked as well. Her firm, teardrop shaped C-cup breasts were awesome and sat well on her, with her nipples pointing slightly skyward. The clit hood piercing she sported was silver, contrasting against the small landing strip of pubes which was also a recent development.
Tess noticed me staring. "I wanted to see what it was like to have some bush again," she stated. I was hardly one to argue since she looked fantastic.
"C'mon," she said, taking me by the hand and leading me to the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up. You can explore the wonders of my pussy when you're feeling better."
"I look forward to some tongue-spelunking of your magical depths," I replied.
The shower was hot and soapy and oh so relaxing. Tess, the water cascading down her lithe, curved form, was a fair sight as she soaped and scrubbed every inch of me. She spent no small amount of time around my junk, which barely elicited a twitch from her efforts.
"Poor Paul," she said, rising me off with the wand. "You really are sick."
"Believe me," I said, reaching out and bringing her into a hug. I grabbed her tight ass in both hands. "I wish I was feeling up to some fun. You look and feel amazing."
She kissed me quickly and turned off the water. We toweled off and, after making sure I took my medicine, tucked me back into bed. The fresh sheets did feel much better. She also put a few bottles of sports drinks so I stayed hydrated.
"I'll make sure someone checks on you. Until then, rest up." She kissed me on the cheek and left. I fell asleep fairly quickly, and less crappy than I have the past few days.
#
After Tess came by with her gift of food and medicine and a shower, Morgan showed up the following afternoon. Likewise, I was in bed, still sick, but at least not feeling like dying any longer.
"Hey, how're you feeling," she asked. She was in her typical work outfit of form fitting white button up shirt and black pencil skirt. Neither did anything to hide her F-cup breasts nor her round, firm ass.
"Better than dead, but worse than good," I said. She sat down next to me and felt my head.
"Still warm, but not as bad as Tess said it was.
I had to push down another wave of emotion at the thought of both of these women, who have busy lives, taking time to tend to little ole' sick me.
She held up a bag.
"I brought some soup from the diner down the street; beef and barely. Easy to digest."
"Thanks," I said, sitting up and taking the food offered. It was delicious. Morgan and I chatted a little as I ate. I got most of it down but didn't overdo it. She put the rest in the bag when I was done. The warm food in my belly made me sleepy, which I thanked Morgan for.
"You're welcome," she said. "But you know, some of the best medicine comes from our own bodies. Endorphins and such."
Her hand slipped under the covers and started to slowly glide down my chest.
"Would you be interested in how much better I can make you feel?"
She had a smirk on her face, and playfulness in her sea green eyes.
"I'd love to," I said, making no effort for her to stop. "And while in my head I already have you bent over, my body is not cooperating."
Morgans hand reached further down, stroking my member gently. It was long and thick even when flacid, but no amount of her stroking was getting any life into it. She went a little further to cup my balls, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"Wow," she commented as she felt around, feeling the weight of my sack in her soft hand, "these are even bigger than normal. I don't know if I'd hate to be the recipient of your next hose down, or absolutely love it."
"You're welcome to come back when I'm better," I offered. I tried to will my junk to cooperate with Morgans intentions, but it was a no go. 'Stupid sick body', I thought to myself.
"I just may," she said, removing her hand and tucking me back in. She stood up, leaned over to kiss my forehead, and bid me goodbye.
"Oh," she said, popping her head back in, "I think Amanda was going to stop by and check in on you. Not sure if today or tomorrow though. I'll leave her with a key."
"Thanks," I told her as I drifted back off to dreamland once again.
#
The second day after Morgan visited, I was feeling better. I wasn't exactly perfect, but I didn't feel sick anymore. A little tired, despite basically sleeping for the last week, but that was solved by some coffee and a hearty breakfast. I even had enough energy to shower and change my sheets as the old ones were getting ripe.
It was nearly 9am when I heard a knock on my door. It was Amanda, coming over to check on me most likely. Again, that wave of thankfulness threatened to bring out some tears. But I held it in.
"Hey, darlin'," she said, her southern drawl bright and lyrical. She was wearing a trench coat due to the incessant rain, but the purple heels didn't make much sense. "You're up and about, I see. Feelin' better?"
"Yea, still a bit tired, but at least not achy or feverish."
"Good," she said, stepping inside and closing the door. "Morgan was worried about ya."
Ah, good ole' Morgan. It was nice she worried about me so.
"Anyways," Amanda continued, "I came over to help ya out. Especially since ya seemed to be... as she put it... quite backed up." Amanda undid her belt and dropped the coat to the floor.
Aside from her purple heels, the only other things she was wearing were a purple choker, purple plastic nipple clamps with a fairly taught chain between her ample tits, and a smirk. Her hair was in a small pony tail and her hazel eyes were definitely full of mischief. Her slim frame held her gravity defying H-cup breasts incredibly well. Her nether area, generally hairless and smooth, now sported a small triangle above an otherwise bare vulva. I took a few moments to appreciate the sheer beauty of her form and eroticism of her demeanor.
"You didn't have to get all dressed up for me," I said, trying to sound casual about it.
