What's Wrong With Me?

John woke up one morning feeling horrendous, his throat felt like he had swallowed a mixture of pine needles and pulverized glass. The next day his throat grew worse and he found blood in his stool. He was horribly afraid he had caught something on his trip to India a couple days ago.

As he stared at himself in the mirror he heard a familiar creak. Sarah was coming in. John quickly flushed the toilet and spun to meet his lover at the door.

She was dressed in his favorite night gown, a slim black lace dress that barely went past her but cheeks. The lower the gown went the more transparent it became; it gave a fantastic view of her frilly black thong. It was furiously constricting her between the gap in her thighs and fighting as hard as it could to give the best looking cameltoe you'd ever seen. Although not as transparent, your eyes always did seem to wander back up to her chest, her tiny shoulder straps barely stopping her plump breasts transitioning from generous cleavage to full on titty drop. Her long blonde hair was in tufts, you always thought she looked cute with bedhead.

You walk over to her giving her a morning hug, wrapping your hands around her waist you pull her in close till her breasts are pressed against your still naked chest. You give her butt a playful firm squeeze. It's a supple firm feeling met with the soft silky texture of her gown. She playfully smiles and sighs as you kiss her neck then her lips as you rock with her.

Your tongues shortly intertwine as you playfully caress each other. Her eyes are a deep green and staring into yours when your lips part. As your eyes quickly dart down to peek at her compressed cleavage your view of her bulging melons is blocked by a hand lifting your chin back up. She caresses the side of your face with her other hand as she stares into your eyes.

"You look like shit love." She said with a tinge of concern in her face.