Recovery

Even before my wife and I finally got married, we decided that it would be best to sleep in separate beds if one of us became sick, and after further discussion, we agreed that the sick person would sleep in the bed in the Master bedroom while the person who was actually well would sleep in the guest bedroom. After all, when one is sick, one receives a psychological boost from things and places which are familiar, including one's own bed. (As someone who has been sick at various times in several countries, I can definitely support that.)

Of course, sickness is inevitable, no matter how well one takes care of one's health. And it was my turn to be sick. It began with a sore throat, and that evolved into laryngitis, and then I had a bout with the flu... and the flu inevitably won.

I was definitely feeling miserable, although after having spent most of a day in bed sporadically sleeping, I was feeling a little better, but certainly far from well. While I cringed at the amount of work piling up on my desk at work which I would need to handle over the weekend instead of ensuring that I was truly well again, I heard a knock at the bedroom door. My first thought was that the Johns twins were coming to visit me after school, since they were effectively my "nieces" even though I shared no blood or marriage relationship with either of their parents.

But then, to my surprise, my wife opened the door, slowly, her naked form gradually coming into view.

"Just stay where you are, hon," she said softly.

Then she really surprised me by mounting the bed, and only then did I get over the shock of her nudity in this situation to recognize that she had the flesh colored dildo in one hand. That certainly intrigued me, and when I parted my lips to vocalize my surprise, she gestured for me to be quiet and just lean back against the pillows.

At the foot of the bed, she knelt, sitting back on her heels and spreading her knees fairly wide apart. The tiny narrow trimmed crescent moon shape of her natural red pubic hair was prominently on display above her sacred sex. The small barbells in her nipples seemed to make her breasts more prominent.

I watched, transfixed, as she set the dildo down between her knees and began to gently rub between her thighs. As her free hand rose to begin fondling a breast, I began to feel a rise underneath the covers, but I was still in such surprise at this scenario that I barely noticed my own arousal.

My wife performed for me with her eyes closed. As her arousal grew, as her womanhood moistened, her head tipped slowly backward and her lips parted while she began to pant, and I realized that, after my having been sick for over forty-eight hours at that point, given that we would typically engage in some type of sexual activity at least once each day, this performance was probably as much for her own carnal need as it was for inspiring me to get well faster.

For a long time, she masturbated, sometimes with a hand working at her chest and sometimes with both hands working between her thighs. She masturbated slowly, gradually increasing her pleasure, her fragrant musk filling my nostrils and helping to further solidify my hardening erection. Thoughts of my illness faded away, and even my cough seemed to abate, in awe of the woman selflessly displaying herself before me.

When she finally reached for the dildo, I was jealous, wishing the dildo was me -- wishing that I was well enough so that my wife would not need the dildo. My erection was definitely thick and long and nearly as hard as chiseled rock, and it was ready to plunge into her sweet, wet depths. Instead, I could only watch, my hand beginning to rub underneath the covers as my wife spread her own wetness all over the flesh colored dildo and readied it between her thighs.

The entry was slow, but from the long, low, lusty moan she emitted, it was very fulfilling for her on levels beyond just the physical. She held it steady deep within her dripping portal, and then began to rub her clitoris once again.

I knew what would happen. It has always been difficult for my wife to orgasm without penetration, and when she has something so deep inside her while her clitoris is pleasured, the orgasms tend to come fast and swift, sometimes one rolling directly into the next.

Her voice announced the impending release first. Her cries were louder, breathier, needier. Then her body really became part of the show, bucking beneath her fingers and causing her breasts to shake nicely and her lengthy hair to sway seductively behind her.

She slowly withdrew the dildo, then slammed it forcefully deep into her body, and that sudden motion triggered a strong, loud climax which made me swoon. But she did not stop there, recovering enough to piston the dildo within her, and soon a second orgasm was gloriously presented to me.

And then she stopped, withdrawing the dildo completely and setting it aside before slowly crawling up the bed toward me and, despite my illness, collapsing in my arms as she floated in the post-orgasmic bliss she had not experienced for several days.

Amazingly, my wife's performance was the cure I needed, for the recovery was faster than expected following her selfless display. Unfortunately, she is now sick in bed and has been for about thirty-six hours, so I will probably give her a similar show tonight.