A housewife and beautiful Nurse Welles

I kicked at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle
them from my sweaty legs. They were all twisted up,
but I managed to pull my feet free and roll over onto
my side. I knew that in a very short time I would be
shivering so badly that I’d be forced to pull the
matted sheets back up again, but for now I was just
too hot. Damn fever!

The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday
night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging
fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I
wouldn’t let him miss work. Besides, it wasn’t like he
could do anything. I just had to sweat it out.

Literally.

The doorbell rang.

I squinted at the clock radio: just past 11 am. Who
could that be? Not Sandra surely; I’d had Frank phone
her last night to tell her I was sick and cancel our
lunch date. I toyed with the notion of just laying in
bed and ignoring the bell – it rang again – but decided
against it. It might be important.

I slid out of bed, wrapped my thick robe around my now
shivering body and walked slowly towards the door. The
stairs gave me some difficulty – I was pretty dizzy –
but I grabbed the handrail and took it one step at a
time. It took a while – the bell rang again before I
reached the bottom – but I eventually made it. Flushed
and sweating, I opened the door.

It was a nurse, but dressed like no nurse I had ever
seen before. She wore a white nurse’s uniform, but the
skirt was very short, barely covering her thighs, and
the neckline plunged down to the top of her breasts in
a deep vee. She was extremely attractive – funny, it
must have been the fever; I didn’t normally think of
other women as attractive – with thick, red hair, a
slender waist and long… long, stocking-clad legs…

I must have been staring at her legs where they disap-
peared under the skirt – once again, it must have been
the fever – because she cleared her throat to get my
attention. If it hadn’t been for the fever, I’m sure
my face would have burned with embarrassment.

She spoke. “Mrs. Blair?”

I nodded, croaking out a “yes.”

“I’m nurse Welles, from Homecare Inc.” She adjusted
her little hat. “I’ve been hired to look in on you.”

That made sense. I assumed that Frank, or possibly
Sandra, had decided that I needed some medical
attention. Very thoughtful, really. “Come in.”

I took a step back from the door, but stumbled. I was
still rather dizzy and weak. The nurse rushed forward
and grabbed my shoulder, steadying me.

“Here,” she said. “You belong on your back.” She was
right; a fresh wave of dizziness washed over me. She
put her hand around my shoulders and helped me back
up the steps. At one point, I stumbled, and she
dropped her hand to my rear end to steady me. She kept
it there for the rest of the journey, using it to
control my progress. I was acutely aware of it…

Finally we reached the bedroom and she steered me into
the bed. “Now you just lie there, honey,” she told me,
pulling off my robe, “and let nurse Welles take care
of you.”

Shivering, I fell back onto the mattress. The nurse
fixed the pillow behind my head and then began
straightening out the tangled sheets at my feet. I
watched for a bit. In my feverish state, her movements
seemed almost hypnotic. Her long, slender arms moving
over my body; the way her red hair tumbled out from
beneath the white cap bent over… I was quite unable
to take my eyes off her. Eventually, however, the
fever took hold and I began to drift away. I was so
tired. I think I fell into a bit of a daze.

It was like I was dreaming. I felt my nightie – a long
tee-shirt, really – being pulled up until it was
bunched under my chin. Then a voice: “Just relax…
relax… leave everything to nurse Welles… she’ll
take care of you…”

I relaxed. Then I felt a pair of soft hands – *her*
hands – running along the top of my chest and then
down to my breasts. My breasts! I wanted to sit up and
push those hands away – I’d *never* been touched there
by another woman – but it felt so good. Those hands
slid over my breasts, rubbing… massaging… tweaking
my nipples…

I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh as those hands
left my breasts and moved slowly across my stomach and
down to my crotch.

“Just relax…” I felt her finger on the top of my
pussy, just touching, teasing me… I moaned and thrust
my hips up to meet that finger, but every time I did
so, it moved away, not quite losing contact, but just
enough so the pressure didn’t increase.

“Please…” Was that my voice begging? I must have
been delirious. But it felt so good. After a few mo-
ments, I felt her hands parting my thighs. I helped,
opening my legs and thrusting upwards slightly with my
crotch. I was rewarded with an extra bit of pressure,
and let out a moan.

Then I felt something cool and wettish, sliding down
between my legs and up against my rear-end. “Just
relax…” It pushed up against my anus. I tried to
clench my ass muscles to stop it from entering, but
every time I tightened up, the finger left my clit.

Whimpering in frustration, I gave in and let her push
the object into me. Further and further… and the
deeper it went, the more pressure was brought to bear
on my clit.

Why wasn’t I saying something? Why was I letting this
stranger invade my privacy like this? But as that
thought drifted through my mind, my body shivered at
the pleasure this person was giving me.

I’d never had anything up there before, so it felt
kind of strange. Hurt a bit, but the feelings of
pleasure caused by the hand on my crotch more than
made up for any discomfort. By now I was moaning and
whimpering, feeling like I might come any moment.

The feelings built and built until I was thrashing
about on the bed, humping my crotch into her roaming
hand, trying, needing to…

…Ahhh… I sat up, drenched with sweat, pulling my
soaked hand away from my throbbing crotch.

I’d evidently masturbated myself to orgasm while I was
sleeping. That fever did strange things to me. I kicked
at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle them from
my sweaty legs.

They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet
free and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very
short time I would be shivering so badly that I’d be
forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but for
now I was just too hot.

Damn fever.

The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday
night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging
fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I
wouldn’t let him miss work. Besides, it wasn’t like
he could do anything. I just had to sweat it out.

Literally.

The doorbell rang…

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