Cure for the Flu

I have the flu; the man-flu. I've been sneezing and coughing for three days now. I've been hot and I've been cold; I have no energy and I'm clearly lying here dying. I've been awake since the early hours snuffling and wheezing; the arrival of morning is a welcome relief.

The alarm beeps unnecessarily to inform me that its 6:00 a.m., clearly I won't be going to work today. But now that it is Monday you will have to get up and go, leaving me to wallow in my own misery.

You put on the bedside lamp and propping yourself up, drink some water. I know you are beginning your usual work day routine to wake up and start the day. You reach over and squeeze my hand, saying; "How are you feeling my love?"

What should I say? Put on a brave face and try to appear macho? Or just be the pitiful self that I feel like? I decide on the latter;

"Honestly? I still feel like shit!"

"I'll go and get you a glass of orange juice and some Paracetamol. Back in a sec."

And you have bounded out of bed, in a way that I couldn't even begin to consider. I see a flash of bare bottom beneath the silk pyjama top as you cross the room. An indication of how lousy I feel, is that I am not even slightly turned on by this sight.

The light goes on in the landing and I hear your footsteps descend the stairs, but I think I must be a bit deaf because I can't hear any sounds from the kitchen below. You reappear with a glass of juice, a slice of toast and marmite, two white tablets and six chewable vitamin C's.

You help me lean forward and plump up my pillows for me, and I feel as helpless as a baby submitting to these administrations.

I haven't the strength to eat the toast, and feebly take a few sips of juice and swallow the tablets. Meanwhile you are carrying out your morning rituals that I know so well. First you slip into padded cycling shorts, black trainers and a baggy tee shirt. Then you turn on BBC Breakfast, and start your 30 minute cycling work out.

Drowsily I hear the pedals pumping and in my blurred line of vision are Sian and Bill being annoyingly cheery while presenting the news. I suspect I may have dosed off for a few minutes; not surprising considering how little sleep I have had the past few nights. I'm guessing this because you are now walking back and forth across the bedroom in black panties and black sports bra. I know you are putting away yesterday's clothes, and trying to decide what to wear today.

When you have your outfit for the day arranged neatly on the bottom of the bed, you come over to my side and sit down next to me. You gently place a hand on my forehead;

"Well, I think your temperature is back to normal anyway. Here, let me help you sit up a bit more so that you can eat something."

I realise I have slumped back down in the bed, so I obediently sit up so that you can plump up my pillows for me. Then you sit back down again and unhook your bra, hanging it over the handlebars of the exercise bike. You lean forward and give me a kiss on the cheek, and your newly freed breasts swing in front of my face. You cradle my head between your ample bosoms. This reminds me of when I was a child, bringing back memories of being comforted by my mother when I wasn't well.

You give my head one more squeeze, then you're pinning up your hair as you head to the bathroom and I hear the shower running. I picture you indulging yourself amid the marble tiles, with all the jets massaging your entire body. We remodelled the bathroom when we moved into the flat, making it really luxurious. One of our special pleasures is to make love in the enormous wet room shower.

I sip my orange juice thoughtfully as you return to rub Chanel No. 5 body lotion all over you. I can just about catch the fragrance through my blocked up nasal passages. While I am listlessly nibbling my toast you are morphing into the legal eagle that you are. First the silk knickers and sheer black tights, followed by your extra-support bra from Victoria's Secret. Today you have chosen a simple black dress, trimmed in beige, and topped off with a stylish jacket that has decorative pockets and ruched sleeves. You knot your hair into a sleek chignon, and come to give me a goodbye kiss.

Too soon I am listening to your sensible day heels clattering down the metal rungs of the spiral staircase. And I am alone again with only Carole and the weather for company. Why does she wear such hideous dresses that make her look top heavy? You, on the other hand, always take such pride in finding clothes to flatter your full figure.

Of course it was actually your big boobs that first caught my attention. But in fairness, that is because we were at a conference and I was trying to read your name tag pinned to your chest. When you saw me staring admiringly, you laughed, and said, "Well now you know my name, will you ever be able to put a face to it again?"

Naturally I was a bit embarrassed, and looked up to discover that there was a gorgeous face attached to the voice. So we began the first meeting ritual. But a couple of drinks later, we were laughing and joking with ease. I realised I hadn't felt this comfortable with an attractive woman before, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. Fair enough, I'm no slouch myself after all. Of course my eyes just couldn't help themselves and kept sliding back down to those tantalising tits. Eventually you asked me to look at your face when we were talking, and I countered with, "How long have you had those?" You took it all in good humour though.

Then followed the dating ritual; fitted between both of our busy work schedules. I knew immediately that I wanted to spend every waking hour with you though. When you took off your formal work clothes and let your hair down ... Wow! What a stunner you are.

I have no problem remembering the first time we made love. It was about two weeks after our initial meeting and we had been to a Chambers party earlier in the evening. Then I took you for dinner at Orso's and we sat across from each other with mozzarella cheese dripping down our chins from the pizza.

Just when I was trying to decide on the best approach to get you into bed you said,

"I can't wait to get out of these stuffy work clothes, let's go back to my place."

And of course once you had gone to change, I just couldn't help myself from shamelessly following you into the bedroom. There you were standing in next-to-nothing and me with a raving hard on. You completely took my breath away, you were so absolutely ravishing. And when I said as much, we were immediately all over each other, both hungry for the other. I was out of my clothes in a matter of moments, and we were on the bed practically eating each other. I fought to hold myself back a bit, but it was a losing battle. I was so turned on I lasted only a minute and was ashamed of myself. But you weren't bothered at all -- you simply guided my hand down to feel the wet, wet honey pot. And when I started kissing you there you instantly began to moan with pleasure. You climaxed almost immediately and as we lay together afterwards I thought, "This is it, I have finally found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."

We never looked back from that day. We couldn't get enough of each other, couldn't keep our hands to ourselves whenever we were together. We kept leaving parties early to race back to your place, or mine, whichever was closest, to leap into bed and make love all night long.

Within a year we had given up our rented flats and bought this fantastic warehouse conversion together. As soon as we saw it, we knew it had to be ours. Friends and family cautioned us that we were rushing things too much. But that was five years ago, and they must be eating their words now.

But this is the first time I have been ill while we've been together, and I was afraid you might hate me for being such a puny weakling. Not so, you've been your usual sensible self, just dealing with the flu in the matter of fact way you handle any little problems that come up.

With these thoughts in mind I walk on rubbery legs and take a quick shower and wash the sweat from my hair. I'm beginning to feel vaguely human again.

By now you will have arrived at Chambers and I was too wrapped up in self pity to think to ask you what was on your agenda today.

At lunchtime you call to see how I am doing, and tell me that there are tins of soup in the cupboard and a fresh loaf of French bread. So I make my way down to the kitchen, still a bit wobbly on the stairs. I have to sit down on the window seat in the lounge for a rest. Outside the clouds are thinning and I can see the river in the distance sparkling in a shaft of sunlight.

I manage to make minestrone soup but am not quite up to eating the bread yet. I drink a couple of litres of chilled water from the cooler, and chew more vitamin C's.

After that I'm exhausted again, so I lie down on our mammoth black sofa under a blanket, and apparently fall asleep in seconds. I can't believe I have slept the afternoon away, as I try and stir my aching limbs into action. My mouth feels like the bottom of a parrot's cage, so I drink another gallon of water, and wander aimlessly around the flat for a while. Since I haven't been downstairs for a few days it's a bit of a novelty to look at some of the treasures we have collected together. We've kept the décor minimalistic in keeping with the high ceiling and lofty space. I'm very fond of the huge giraffe we brought back from our Africa trip though. Another favourite is the bronze replica of Rodin's "The Kiss", which we felt captured our feelings for each other.

You call me again at 6:00 p.m. to say you are on your way home and am I up to eating something? I think I might be, so you suggest picking up some Vietnamese spring rolls and sushi.

I'd like to go up and tidy the bedroom before you get home, but don't quite have enough energy to face the stairs again. I do muster the strength to put the Japanese placemats onto the smoky glass dining table ready for you. It's not exactly romantic with me in my old tee shirt and comfy track suit bottoms, but at least I have made an effort.

True to form you sweep in and give me a hug without commenting on my shabby appearance. You are just pleased to see I'm out of bed. So I unpack the dinner, while you go up to get changed. I pour wine for you, and more water for myself. You reappear in a flowing Caribbean caftan and proceed to eat lustily while I pick at the vegetarian sushi. I hear all about the trials and tribulations of your day, and then we cuddle up on the sofa to watch the news. I start to feel drowsy again, so you encourage me to get off to bed.

You have to read through a brief for a court hearing tomorrow, so you say you will be up in an hour or so. I don't know what time you do come to bed, because the next thing I hear is the 6:00 a.m. alarm going off again.

"Hey, I slept the whole night!" I declare. "Things are looking up."

Now I am watching you perform your morning ritual again. But there are definite signs of life today, as I am more interested in seeing your boobs giggling on the exercise bike than in watching Breakfast TV.

Suddenly I feel a lot more alert, and as you hop off the cycle I reach out to grab a handful of beautiful bottom. You lean over me and I cup a bouncing breast in my hand, and give it a loving squeeze.

"Hey, you really are on the mend." You laugh.

"I just want you to know how much I appreciate you taking care of me." I tell you.

When you finish your workout you pull off your tee shirt and bra and then I am pressing my face between those magnificent globes, which mean the world to me. Snuggling into your warm skin feels so reassuring, and the sheet begins to rise and form a tent. "Perhaps there's life in the man yet." I think.

Of course this does not go unnoticed by you either, as you run your hand over my crotch to feel the bulge. And when you bend down to plant a kiss on my penis your breasts are jiggling right in front of my face. How can I resist taking one in my mouth and sucking on it with a strength I didn't realise I still possessed. Magically my scratchy throat is forgotten, and I find another perky nipple crying out for attention. Despite a little difficulty in breathing I rise to the occasion, as you caress my engorged penis, and the aches and pains I have been experiencing for days, are converted into feelings of pleasure.

"Hmm," you croon, "How about continuing this in the dream shower? You can wash away the flu blues!"

Of course I know that you are actually on a schedule and need to take your shower to get ready for work. But I have a sudden surge of energy, and allow myself to be persuaded without resistance. So on slightly wobbly legs I follow behind the peaches of your bare bottom with my now erect penis leading me on.

You lean into the tiled surface to get the water temperature just right, and then turn on extra jets so that we will get a total body massage. Then holding both my hands you pull me in front of you and begin lathering my back with shower gel. But it's too much for me, so I turn you around and lather your back with sweeping strokes which reach around to include a bit more breast each time. I know you love this, because you arch your back and the hush puppies perk up even more than ever. I can feel the pink nipple buds beneath my finger and thumb as I gently tease them into erection. I let my hands support their substantial weight from underneath. They are simply magnificent, more than just a 'fair pair.' I believe they have actually grown since I have known you, and we've put this down to all the titillating they receive on an almost daily basis.

The water runs in rivulets through your cleavage and down towards the neatly shaped triangle, and I follow its course with my hands and cup my hand around your perfect pussy. I can't resist pressing my hugely stiff dick against the cheeks of your bottom, and then you bend over invitingly. You turn off the water and grab the love handles we had thought to install in the shower. Then you put your hands between your legs to pull my proud penis into the warm depths of your secret garden.

Despite us both being squeaky clean, you have managed to remain moist inside as I slide effortlessly within, and I am rewarded with a moan of pleasure. I can see my entire length disappearing inside you, and all the parts of your secret anatomy are revealed to me; from the tiny rosebud to Gyna's welcoming lips. As ever it is an enormous turn on, and you encourage me to start thrusting like a well oiled piston. The sight of your round bottom, with the pale skin blushed by the heat of the shower, throws me into overdrive.

Perhaps because I am still a little bit weak, I last much longer than usual, and I can see that this is creating an excess of pleasure for you. You like it when I roughly grasp the erogenous tits, more than a handful apiece. Because we're using our favourite position today, my thrusts have found the G-spot. You let out a howl of ecstasy as your orgasm sweeps over you in every increasing peaks. I feel the hot rush of your ejaculate moments before my own rushes to meet it.

When I slip from you there is a flood of clover scented nectar spilling from you. We are both so spent that we turn the jets on again and collapse in a heap on the mosaic floor, hugging and holding each other.

I have one more fondle of the tantalising titties and wash the sperm from my willie. You step outside and reach for a thick bath sheet to wrap me in, rubbing my back dry as you do so. Then you do that clever thing - turning one towel into a turban on your head, and the other knotted tight over the boobs.

Back in the bedroom I am reduced to lying back on the bed again on top of the towel, with my whole body as limp as my dick. Meanwhile you are hurrying to make up the time, and are speedily dressed for another business day. I can only watch helplessly, basking in the climatic afterglow, with a wonderful relaxed sensation spreading throughout my entire body.

When you are ready to leave, you come over to me and hold my hand saying,

"I think we've just discovered a cure for the flu! I shall expect a celebratory dinner when I arrive home tonight. It's back to work for you tomorrow."

Hey, no problem. But, I think I'll just take a little nap in the meantime. I need to get my strength back after all.