You are sick

Waking up from my alarm, I feel exhausted and hot, so I kick off the covers and snooze my alarm. Five minutes later it goes off again. Then again. The third one wakes up Sarah, who takes one look at me and puts a hand on my forehead. "Mmmm. Yep. You have a fever," she diagnoses me. "There's no way you can go to work today." I sigh. I wanted to use my personal time to take Sarah out, not sit in bed all day. I guess it really shouldn't be a surprise, though. I've been the kind of person that gets sick pretty often, especially as a child. I have a suspicion that Sarah went into nursing just to take care of me.

"I'll them know." When I speak, I sound weak and feel worse. I let my boss know that I'm not going to be able to come in today.

"Now get back to sleep. No sense in getting up early if you don't have to." I smile up at my beautiful nurse and fall back asleep immediately. I'm woken up again, hours later, by breakfast in bed. Sarah takes my temperature. "Not good." She says shaking her head. "Not bad enough to take you to the hospital, but it's close. For now, just stay in bed."

"You don't have to tell me twice," I joke weakly, eating as much as I can stomach.

A few hours later, Mr. Robinson comes to check on me. "Dang, kid, you don't look so good," he says bluntly.

"Maybe not, but I have the most gorgeous nurse in the world," I reply grinning.

"You're not wrong there. Still," he says looking at me in the bed. "I worry about you getting her sick, being in the same bed. I think we should move you somewhere else..." he looks around the room and spots a recliner in the corner. "That would be perfect!"

"Uhhh," I give the chair a dubious look. "I'm not so sure about that..." I've fallen asleep in that chair before, sure, but that's not the same as when I'm sick and trying to recover.

"You're doing it to keep Sarah healthy," he reminds me. It is pretty nice of him to want to keep her healthy. With how nice she has been the last couple of days, a little discomfort in a chair isn't that big of a deal.

"You're right. Help me up?" He gives me a hand, helping me up, and I stumble over to the chair. It's surprisingly difficult, and the exertion has me panting as he gets me a pillow and some blankets.

Sarah walks in and looks at me in the chair, confused. "What is going on?" Mr. Robinson explains his idea to her, and it takes both of us to convince her it's alright. Sarah is so selfless that she is set against making me comfortable just for her sake, and it takes a lot of time and effort to wear her down.

"Alright, alright, fine. As long as Liam is comfortable," she says finally.

"I'm very comfortable. Just as good as the bed," I lie to her. I feela bit guilty not telling her the truth. It's for her own good, though. The days gets later, and I try to answer some emails on my phone, but I can't focus on a thing.

Taking my temperature again, she shakes her head. "I don't know Liam. This is pretty bad..." She measures out a big dose of medicine. "This stuff is pretty strong, so you'll probably be out of it for a while." I down it, the fake grape taste almost making me spit it back up. I manage to keep it down, and whew, she was not kidding. I'm in and out of sleep for the rest of the day, and when I am awake, I'm having strange fever dreams. A concerned Sarah with a lamb's head stands over me. "I think I might have given him too much."

"Nah, he needed it. I'm sure he's fine," Mr. Robinson's voice comes from a wolf's head. A paw is wrapped possesively around her side, and when he leads her away, she squeaks when he grabs her tail. Then I'm back out. I have crazy fever dreams about all kind of random things and people, but there is one that is the most vivid that I forget as soon as I close my eyes.

The scene looks so close to my bedroom that I almost think I'm awake, but the sight in front of me assures my mind that it's a dream. Sarah, naked, bent over the bed, her heavy breasts hanging below her, and Mr. Robinson naked behind her. The vision is clearly fiction for a number of reasons, but the one that sticks in my mind is the position. One night, after a lot of bullying, and a little drinking, Sarah and I got talking about sex. One thing she mentioned was how she wanted her first time to be special, romantic. She wanted to look her lover in the eyes as he took her virginity away. I joked to her that must mean that doggystyle is out of the question, and she got a disgusted look on her face. Doggystyle is for animals and for whores to get fucked, and she isn't a whore or an animal, and she never wants to be fucked. She wants to make love. Knowing that, it couldn't be real, not only that she would cheat, but that she would do it this way.

In the dream, that's how it's happening, though. Sarah looks at me, my eyes half closed as they have been for hours, and turns around to address Mr. Robinson. "Does it have to be in here? He could wake up or-"

He interupts her with a vicious slap to her ass, making her whole body shake. "Stop your bitching, Ginger Tits. This is how I want it." She turns back around with a whimper, and I see tears welling up in her eyes. Mr. Robinson spits on her rear end and smears it around with his hand. Then he brings his cock over and presses it against her shaven, virgin pussy. "Do you feel that?" He asks her, pressing forward against her.

She winces, "Yes, I feel it. It- hnnnnnng," her words cut off as he penetrates her tight young body for the first time. Her hands clench the sheets tightly and her face scrunches up in pain.

"Fucking hell this pussy feels amazing," he remarks, grabbing her hips to push himself further in.

"Please! Slower! It hurts so bad!" she whines. He ignores her, pumping into her faster and faster. She gives up begging pretty quickly, tears rolling down her face as she endures this violation of her body and her love for me. He has no care for her pleasure or for her comfort, ramping up quickly until he is pounding his hips against her bruised ass. Her tits swing underneath her, back and forth, in tandem with his thrusts.

Yet another point against this being real, there is no way a man Mr. Robinson's age could have lasted that long. Over fourty five minutes of him pounding into her, of him standing behind her, hands on her waist, his gut jiggling abover her perfect rear as he slams into her without a pause. An old man would not have the physical stamina to last that long, let alone the sexual stamina not to blow his load being with a girl as hot as Sarah. There is no way he could last that amount of time before finally shooting his load into the fertile young woman.

That breaks her out of her trance. "Wait! Stop, I'm not on birth control!"

"Fuuuuck, I don't give a shit, I'm coming in this pussy," he says, moaning as he holds her tight and shoots all of his jizz into her awaiting womb. Panting against her until he catches his breath, he pulls out of her and adds, "Besides, it doesn't matter too much at my age." Without another word, he walks out of the room. Sarah collapses, and lays there, sobbing, for longer than the ordeal lasted in total, the amount of cum slowly leaking onto her legs a testament for how much was still inside her. When she finally collects herself, her legs give out, and she has to crawl to the shower. That's the last image in my brain, my naked girlfriend leaking my old teacher's cum as she crawls on all fours. As soon as I close my eyes, that memory, like all my others from that event, fade away.