Closeness

Covid protocol: If infected, maintain a safe physical distance from other members of your household.

"Well," I said to myself, "this sucks." I was staring at a small piece of plastic and the pink marker that told me I'd tested positive.

Two years into a global pandemic. Two years of being careful, wearing a mask, observing all the protocols and staying clear of infection. And now, with my wife hours from returning home from a month abroad, I'd caught Covid.

The symptoms had crept up on me. A dry cough, a headache. Gritty eyes. Then I found myself gasping from just climbing the stairs, and wondered whether perhaps I'd been infected. The whole thing was disappearing from the news, from public awareness, and I'd been caught up in the anticipation of my wife's return. I simply hadn't connected the dots.

Quickly I dug out a self-test kit and read the instructions. The result showed up worryingly quickly: positive. A glance at the clock on the oven told me my wife's plane had just taken off. "Fuck," I said. Then, because that didn't seem enough, I added, "Fuck fuck fuckity-fuck."

I typed a quick message. Call me when you land. Urgent. Then I sat and shivered for a bit, wondering what to do and cursing the bad timing of it all.

She'd been on a business trip on the far side of the planet. Sometimes we'd managed a hot cam session, but mostly we'd been limited to text messages and a few phone calls. Only that morning I'd woken to find a voice message from her.

I'm off to the airport in a bit, but I just wanted to tell you what I'm going to do to you when I get home. You'd better be naked. Naked and in bed. I'm going to suck your hard cock. There was a moan. I'm getting wet just thinking about it. What it looks like. Big and purple and shiny. I can't wait to take you in my mouth and suck. More heavy breathing. I've got my fingers inside me, you know. Just imagining what it's going to be like. Then I'm going to pull your head up against my pussy and ride your face. You're going to taste this-- There was a slurping sound. And I'm going to make you lick me until I cum. And then... More moaning, more slurping. And then I'm going to slide onto your cock. I'm going to feel you press into me. It's going to be... going to be... Her words trailed off into a series of gasps and pants, then she gave a sharp cry, and another, then there was gasping. Silence for a long moment before she spoke again. I have to leave now. Remember what I said. Naked. Oh, and get out the box of toys. You can stick whatever you want in me, wherever you want. This afternoon I'm your fuck toy.

I played the message twice more, and wanked hard. Well, I didn't want to explode as soon as she touched me, did I?

Even now, feeling as awful as I did, the memory got me swollen. I thought about giving myself a tug, but it seemed like too much effort. Instead, I poured myself a large glass of water and started to send messages to everyone I'd been in contact with during the past week.

I must have dozed off in the chair, because all of a sudden my phone was ringing in my hand. I stared at it blearily, wondering what it was -- wondering who I was. Then habit took over and I flipped the case open. My wife's picture was on the screen above the "ringing" icon.

"Honey, I just saw your message. What's so urgent?" She sounded amused. "Are you going to tell me what you're going to do to me? You could have left a voice message, you know. Something for me to listen to on my way home from the airport." Her voice dropped low, as if she was trying to prevent other passengers from listening in. "Something to get me wet, so I'd have to go to the ladies' and play with myself."

I tried to interrupt her, but my voice didn't want to work, and she continued.

"Actually, I might have to do that anyway. I've been thinking about you the whole flight. The woman next to me was wearing an eye mask, so I slid my hand up my skirt and stroked myself for a moment. But I'd rather you did it to me. So I'm going to a-- Honey, what's the matter?"

I'd finally managed to gasp a few words. Admittedly it wasn't just the Covid that was making me short of breath, and I'd have let her carry on for a bit longer if I hadn't had to tell her. Just the idea that she was having this conversation in a full airplane made it even more intoxicating.

"Covid!" I croaked. "Infected. Stay away."

She started to reply, but was interrupted by an announcement, and I heard her say something sharply to someone on the plane. Then her attention was back on me. "What were you saying? I didn't catch it."

I repeated it, punctuating the words with a cough here and there. She didn't let me finish. "You poor darling! You sound awful. Don't worry, I'll be home soon."

"Don't!" I wheezed. "Infection."

"Nonsense. The apartment is large enough for us to keep a distance." Through the phone I heard the noises of people jostling together and bags being taken out of overhead bins. "Listen, I have to go. You put yourself to bed and I'll be there before you know it."

I wanted to argue, but the conversation had already drained the little energy I had. So I opened all the windows, drank some more water and crawled between my sweaty sheets. Blackness overtook me instantly.

When I woke, I could hear her in the apartment. It was comforting to have her there, even through the anxiety of infecting her. After a few attempts I managed to drag myself out of bed and to the bedroom door. She was putting her suitcase in the spare bedroom. "Hello," I croaked. "Welcome home."

The next few days were awful. We kept apart, kept the place aired and even wore masks indoors. Mostly I confined myself to the bedroom. She worked from home and took care of me, leaving food and drink and get-well cards outside my room. Sometimes I'd wake from a sweat-drenched sleep to see her head peeping around the door, her concern plain to see. I got worse for another day, then slowly started to mend. By the end of the week I was feeling like I might live.

She gave me a worried look from across the living room. "Are you sure you're well enough to be up? Shouldn't you be in bed? Or at least wearing more clothes?" I was dressed in a pair of shorts and nothing else. Her gaze lingered on them.

"I'm much better," I reassured her. "And I'm sick of being in bed. I've watched everything there is to stream and I've finished the entire library on my ereader. I'm as good as new."

"Great!" She rose, unbuttoning her blouse as she crossed towards me. "Let's fuck!"

I backed away hurriedly. "I'm still contagious! You don't want to get what I've had. Believe me. And I'd hate myself if you caught it from me."

She pouted, but didn't come closer. "But I want you! I've been admiring your legs in those shorts, and your bulge. We were going to do things to each other--"

I interrupted hastily. "Don't say it!" I'd been admiring her curves too, and with her blouse half undone and her bra peeping out I could feel myself start to throb. I'd been too sick even to wank, I realised.

I beat a hasty retreat to the bedroom. Footsteps behind me told me she was following. "I don't care about getting sick. I just want to feel you, I want--" I hurriedly slammed the door shut before I could give in to temptation.

I flung myself down on the bed, my cock throbbing painfully beneath me. The sight of her smooth skin, those soft mounds, the curve of her waist and hips... I rolled onto my back and stuck my hand down my shorts. My cock was hot, hard as a rock. Knowing that it was a poor substitute, I gave it a tug nonetheless.

Just then the bedroom door opened a crack and she stuck her head in. "I-- oooh, I came in just in time, did I?"

I let go of myself, and she stuck out her tongue. "I was going to say, I have an idea."

What she suggested was simple. The spare bedroom was large enough for us to maintain a safe distance, as the protocols demanded. We'd open the windows and turn on the air purifier. Then I'd make myself comfortable in the armchair in the corner and she'd get on the bed. Naked, both of us. With our full box of toys.

Eagerly we rushed through the preparations like kids who've been promised a treat. In minutes we were in place. I sat with my legs slightly spread, lightly stroking my semi-swollen shaft. She lay on her stomach, peering over the edge of the bed into the wide, shallow suitcase that held our collection. I admired the curve of her arse, the plumpness of her breasts pressed against the mattress. "Take your time," I told her. "It's been ages since I saw you naked."

She smiled at me, then returned her attention to the suitcase. "Let's see... This one, I think." She pulled out the black suction-cup dildo. It hard a slight curve to it and a bulging head. "This one for you." A yellow plastic egg came flying my way. I caught it and opened it. The short silicon sleeve inside was one of my favourite strokers, fitting snugly over my head to create a tight vacuum. I grinned at her. "And this one for me too!" With a naughty grin she held a butt plug aloft, shining silver in the light.

Just like that my cock was fully hard again. I gave it a squeeze, careful not to tug it or do anything that might send me anywhere that I couldn't come back from.

She tossed me a small bottle of lube. "I'm lubed up already," she said, rolling onto her side and raising one leg. "Can you see from there?"

Her lips were swollen and purple, glistening through the trimmed hair. "I wish I could see from closer," I replied. "I wish I could taste them. You know how much I love to taste you."

She ran her hand over the curve of her stomach and down to her mound. "I know how much I love to feel your tongue there. Your lips. When you suck at me..." She cupped her hand over her mound, and I saw two fingers press against her slit. "When you run your tongue all the way up and down..." She traced the outline of her lips with her fingertips.

I was sitting forward now, forcing my hands away from my cock. "Up and down, all the way down."

She smirked and reached for the plug. "All the way down." Holding it up to her mouth she breathed on it, then rubbed it between her hands to warm it. She guided it between her legs and ran it up and down her slit, pressing it between her lips and against her opening. "Oooph, that's nice," she murmured, closing her eyes for an instant.

"That's not where it goes," I reminded her.

She withdrew it. The shiny metal was covered with her cream. "See how wet I am? Just from seeing you naked here, from thinking about you."

I stopped trying to resist and gave my cock a tug. "You see how hard I am?"

She watched me for a moment as she idly ran the plug along her slit some more, then further down along her crack.

"Imagine that's my tongue," I told her. "Imagine me licking you there. Up slowly, down slowly."

She closed her eyes and murmured, "Stop playing with yourself. I don't want to miss anything." Obediently I let go, and instead watched as she guided the metal plug between her cheeks and against her hole. A gasp escaped her as she pressed gently, and again.

Slowly and carefully, one shapely leg in the air and her free hand rubbing at her button, she forced the butt plug in further and further. Her ring stretched around it, pink and wet with her cream. Two fingers plunged inside her pussy, then the plug shot inside and the pink flesh squeezed tight around it.

Her eyes opened. "Now we can get started properly."

The headboard was a stylish one made of brushed metal. We bought the bed because we liked the design, but that headboard had proved the perfect place for the suction-cup dildo. She ran her sticky fingers over the cup until it gleamed, then stuck it in place. I watched her arse as she did it, and the gleam of steel peeping out from between her cheeks.

When she was satisfied that the dildo was stuck properly she turned to face me again, on hands and knees. Her plump breasts hung down so that her nipples brushed against the sheet. "Play with yourself," she commanded. "Use the sleeve."

The head of my cock was so swollen that the silicon hood barely fit over it. Eventually it was on, though, and I pinched the tip to expel the last bit of air. Immediately the silicon sucked onto me like a mouth.

She watched as I did this, then carefully pressed back towards the dildo. I could tell the instant it met her entrance from the way her eyes opened wide. She gave a grunt and rocked forward slightly, then back again. "I'm imaging this is you," she whispered. "It doesn't feel as good as your cock, but it will do for now."

Again she came forward, and again she pushed back. By now her arse was pressed almost against the headboard and she was giving little moans. The silicon mouth on my cock was sucking at my head.

She reached round with one hand to play with the butt plug. "Play with your arse," she breathed. "I want to see you finger yourself." She was rocking back and forth now.

I pulled my knees up and spread my legs to give her a clear view. There was still some lube on the fingers of my free hand, so I let them slip down until they reached my crack. Her eyes were wide as she watched me probe at my arse, running a fingertip around my hole and then pressing up against it.

Her own hand was still toying with her butt plug as she fucked herself with the dildo. "I wish..." she murmured, "I wish you could come here and give me that cock. Put it in my mouth, make me suck it, make me..." Her voice trailed off.

It was tempting. Very tempting. But we'd promised ourselves we wouldn't do anything stupid.

"I'd make you suck it," I growled back. "Take it all the way into your mouth." The sleeve on my cock was a poor substitute, but it was doing the job. I felt the first signs of my orgasm awakening deep inside me.

"Yes," she breathed. "I'd suck you. Suck you until... No, I wouldn't let you cum in my mouth. I'd make you fuck me."

"Yes, I'd fuck you. From behind, on all fours."

Her eyes and mouth were open, staring at me as she impaled herself on the dildo.

"And I'd stick my thumb up your arse."

She whimpered and gave the plug a jiggle. My own finger was pressed deep inside my hole, my other hand pumping away at my cock.

We were both grunting in unison now. I could feel the flood pressing against the dam, and I could tell she was getting there too. She let go of the butt plug and slid her hand underneath herself and between her legs. "I'm... close..." she gasped.

"Me... too..." I growled. "I'm... here... I'm..." I pulled the sleeve off my cock and tugged at my slick shaft. With my finger in my arse I felt the pressure reach the point of no return, and gave a cry as I felt myself explode. My eyes squeezed shut and my body spasmed, once, twice, three times. I felt something hot splash on my chest, felt more flood over my hand and along my shaft.

A loud moan made me open my eyes, just in time to see her shudder and collapse forward. The dildo, wet and shiny, slid out of her. Her hand was buried beneath her body, still between her legs, and she twitched and gasped several more times before she lay quiet.

My breathing was loud in my ears. I hadn't coughed since before we'd begun, I realised, but my body felt as if I'd run up a mountain. Slouching in the chair, I gazed at my wife's naked body, waiting for her to recover.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she blew a strand of hair away from her face. "That was hot," she whispered.

"Hot," I agreed.

With a groan she rolled over. "How many days before I can touch you?"

"Four more."

"So long." She pulled the blanket over her naked body. "But I might actually survive until then."