No Vanilla Ch. 07-08

Chris is sore, bleeding and before we got to the car she threw up. I don't know if it's the pain, the implications of the tattoo or the flu. I don't regret my decision either way. But I'm worried about her. "I have shopping to do but I we can save that for another time."

"Ryan, I'm ok. We can still go shopping" she objected.

"We'll go another day Chris." I helped her into the car, and headed home. We only got fifteen minutes down the road and she got sick again. When I pulled over she'd bled through her bandage. I found a drug store and bought some medicine, bandages, crackers, and a pair of pajamas for her. When I got back to the car she looked worse. I found a deserted parking area and backed up to a wall so when I opened her door she was blocked from anybody's view. "Get out and strip your clothes off."

Chris stood in the private space I made for her and tried to argue "no" was all she got out before she threw up again.

I moved to her seat with my legs hanging out the door and slowly spun her around. Gently I helped her slide her jeans off being careful to not bump her tattoo. They had vomit all over them. I changed her bandage and treated it like they told us at the tattoo parlor. She slid the pajama bottoms on. "Chris strip off your top."

"I'm ok like this. Let's just go."

I wasn't going to let her slip back into her old bossy, bitchy self, not even if she's sick. "Slut, it's not up for debate. Take off the fucking blouse." She didn't hesitate a second this time. Once the blouse was off I helped her into the flannel button up pajama top. I laid the seat back and she eased back into the car. Ever since the kids were little we carried a couple of blankets and pillows in the back. "Here, take these and nibble on the crackers." She took the aspirin and sleeping pill with the sparkling water ate some crackers. In ten minutes she'd be asleep.

After ten minutes I tucked her in with the blanket and pillow. "I do feel more comfortable in the pajamas. Thank you." She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

It's been snowing all day but she mumbled in a groggy voice "I'm so hot."

Gently I shook her arm to wake her all the way. "Slip out of your bottoms. Your top's long enough. Do you need help?"

"No, I got it. You always take good care of me. I feel a little better." Her smile was weak. She curled on the reclined seat facing me. I fixed the blanket lightly over her. Her eyes closed and she was asleep again after a few minutes. While she was asleep she pulled back the blanket and started unbuttoning her top. I put my hand over hers and she calmed down. She whispered "Ryan, rub me gently please."

"Honey, just sleep. I'm taking off again and we'll be home soon." She drifted in and out of sleep as I drove. Her face is red and when I felt her forehead it's really hot. In her sleep she finished unbuttoning her top. She opened her eyes taking my hand she placed it on her breasts "please rub me gently."

I caressed her breasts a few times and adjusted her pillow. I put my hand back between her breasts and let it rest nestled between her soft flesh. She smiled a little and was out again. She kept moving, trying to get comfortable in her sleep. I didn't realize that her top parted and the right half slipped down to her side. Chris' right breast is fully exposed, clearly visible to anybody that drove by in anything taller than a car. When I looked in my mirror I saw a truck behind us flashing his headlights at the truck in front of him. As I drive close to the window of the next truck and I can see the driver in his mirror grinning as he watched for my sleeping wife. I'm sure he can clearly see Chris' naked breast. I looked at him and waved my hand so he saw me. I pulled the pajama top over Chris to cover her up. I'm hard as steel again thinking about my slut showing her body off. I chuckled to myself thinking; it will be show time another day. I want Chris to be able to enjoy the fun. Right now she needs to rest, in private.

I pulled into the driveway just after dark. The kids are out working or doing whatever young adults do on a Saturday night. I woke Chris, got her showered, bandaged, redressed in her new PJ top and into bed.

I took Monday and Tuesday off and stayed with her until she felt better. Chris was really sick with the flu. It had nothing to do with her new tattoo. Tuesday afternoon she was up moving around the bedroom after a shower. She paused in front of the mirror looking at her tramp stamp. Turning back and forth she smiled "It's really grown on me. I really like it a lot. I think it's sexy and hot. It makes me feel young and wild. Ryan, it makes me feel connected to you almost as much as my wedding ring."

To be continued...