Corey’s Fever

Riding up to my apartment, slumped against the elevator wall, I reflected that I was getting too old for this night-shift volunteer medic stuff. Besides, my coffee levels were getting low, and I badly wanted my bed. I perked up a bit when the elevator door opened on the lobby floor, and my neighbor Cory got on. I wasn’t sure what she did for a living, but it involved nights — on my volunteer evenings I sometimes ran into her in the hall or elevator, in the dark hours of the early morning.

This morning, she was looking more exhausted than usual — worse, in fact, than I felt. Not being a master of tact, I said, “Cory, are you okay? You don’t look like you’re just tired.”.

“Actually, Doc, I feel like shit. I’ve got a headache, and I feel hot. Can you take a look at me?”

“Well, I can look, but you realize I’m just an EMT — mainly a first- aider. Best I can do is check you over and if it’s bad, point you at a real Doc. I might have some Tylenols laying around, but that’s about it.”

The elevator stopped at our floor, and she followed me to my door. “Right now, even a Tylenol would help. Can you check me out now?”

“Sure,” I said, “Come on in.”

We entered my apartment, and I pointed her down the hall to my spare room. I admired the view as I followed her down the hall. She was in her early twenties, and looked younger. Blonde hair fell to just below her shoulders, framing an oval face with light eyes, an interesting nose, and full, sensuous lips. Those lips drove me wild, looking at her — they always seemed to be curved in a mysterious smile. She was wearing tight shorts, cut high enough to just reveal the bottom curves of a luscious butt. Her halter top revealed the outlines of a perky pair of breasts, and rose high enough on her midriff to show off her pierced navel with its ring. Oddly enough, given the rest of her outfit, she was wearing high-heeled evening sandals. Not, of course, that I minded — the high heels imparted a lovely motion to her bottom as she walked.

She’d never been in my place before, so she was a bit taken aback by my spare room. I’d picked up a surplus ambulance gurney, which was my spare couch and guest bed in the lowered position. Raised, of course, it worked just fine as an improvised exam table. My aid box was on a TV tray to the side, and I had bookshelves and cabinets lining the walls in a vain attempt to keep my reading and hobbies somewhat organized.

I locked the gurney’s wheels and raised it to waist height. “Hop on up there, and I’ll get the stuff out”, I said.

She looked dubious, but accepted a boost up on the table. There, she sat and watched while I kicked open another TV tray, and laid out an otoscope, electronic thermometer and probe covers, and tongue depressor. I pulled the stethoscope out of my scrub pocket, and put it on my neck. Finally, I pulled on a pair of exam gloves.

“Okay, Cory. I’m not going to do anything weird to you. I’ll look at your eyes, ears, and throat, and then listen to your chest. Finally, I’ll check your temperature. OK?”

“Sure, ‘Doc’. Hope you can help me.”

“If I can’t, I’ll run you over to the ER. Now, lean forward a bit…”

I put the stethoscope to her bare back and checked her breathing, noting a bit of wheezing. Had her lean forward, and tucked the head into the top of the halter, between her breasts. She didn’t seem to mind, but I kept the ‘scope head to places it belonged. Next, I lit up the otoscope, looking into her ears and eyes. No major abnormalities there, though her forehead felt hot. Finally, I had her say “Aahhh”, and checked her mouth and throat. Her throat looked a bit inflamed, but nothing major. I’d seen a lot of cold and flu cases this week, and she looked to be another one.

I reached over to the tray, and picked up the thermometer. It was a plain-vanilla electronic one — I know about ear thermometers, and YOU can try using one in a bouncing ambulance. I slid on a cover, turning back to Cory, who had her mouth open again. I hit the button, and nothing happened. I hit it again. No LCD display, no beep. I looked over at her.

“Well, looks like we get to switch to the mercury thermometer. Hang on…”

I popped open the aid box again. Opened the thermometer case, and looked at the two halves of my oral thermometer, as the mercury droplets hit the floor. Cory was NOT going to like what happened next.

“Ahhh,… Cory…” I began hesitantly.

“What’s the matter?”, she said.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that it’s just a bad cold or a light touch of the flu, but I really should take your temperature to be positive. There’s just one problem though. I’m down to one thermometer…”. I turned around, and showed her the instrument in my hand, with its stubby, round tip. In my other hand I held a tube of K-Y jelly.

“Wait a minute, there! What’s the lube for?”

“Well, given where this one goes, the lube’s kind of necessary. Unless you’d rather put it in your mouth anyway, knowing where it’s been…?”

She gave me a disgusted look, and said, “You want me to pull down my pants, right?”

I nodded, and with a resigned expression she lay down on the gurney, raising her hips as she pulled her pants down to her knees. I approached her, shaking down the thermometer and noting that she was freshly shaved.

“Okay, Cory. This won’t hurt, and I’ll get it over with as quickly as possible. Roll on your left side, and pull your knees up toward your chest.”

Reluctantly, she did. I lifted her right cheek with my left hand, revealing a delectable anus. I paused to enjoy the view for a long second. I can’t help it, I’m an ass man. Fortunately, I was wearing a really baggy pair of scrubs, or I’d have embarrassed myself. Slowly, gently, I slid the thermometer into her bottom about 2/3 its length. She gasped at the cold invader.

“How’s that feel? Okay?”

“Y-yes, I guess so.”

“Okay, you can roll on your tummy.”

She did so, and the thermometer started to slide out a bit. I pushed it back in, and she squirmed. I held it in place, with one hand on her bottom, and noticed an odd reaction — her breath was quickening. Wondering if she’d enjoy a bit more, I moved it around, in and out, twirling it experimentally between my fingers. She started wiggling her bottom in earnest, so I reached underneath and lightly touched her pussy. She turned her head to look up at me over her shoulder, and that Mona Lisa smile got very wide indeed.

“Well,” I said, “Since we’ve got a couple minutes to go, and don’t want you getting bored…” I slid a finger into her vagina, and rubbed another couple over her clit. She pulled back up onto her knees, bottom in the air. I fingered her to an orgasm, then withdrew and wiped the thermometer, which had long since had time to register.

“Hmmm, you do have a bit of a fever. I’ve got some Tylenols around, but if you’re still feeling lousy in a couple of days, you’ll want to see the doctor.”

“There’s just one problem, ‘Doc’. Whatever this is, it’s messed me up so that Tylenols tear up my stomach. I can’t take them.”

“Ah, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. Judging from the way you handled the temperature taking, you won’t have any problem with these.”

I opened the aid box, and removed a box of adult-sized acetaminophen suppositories. I unwrapped one, and showed it to her.

“If I can’t swallow a pill, how the hell am I going to take THAT?” she demanded.

“Well, you don’t swallow these. Bottoms up again, and I’ll lube you up.”

She looked at me, and her eyes widened. “Oooooohhh,”, was all she could say.

I lubed a finger as she got back up in knee-chest position, and then massaged her anus. She was obviously enjoying it, as I slid my finger in. When I did, I noticed a bit of an obstacle. I withdrew my finger.

“Cory, you’re going to have to hit the potty first, or this won’t absorb right.”

“That’s another problem. I haven’t been able to.”

“Ooookayyy, we can fix this. Hang on.”

I went in the bathroom, popped the cabinet there, and settled on a douche bulb. Adding a bit of Castile soap, I filled it with warm water. I returned to the room, and got another incredulous look from Cory.

“My butt’s plugged up, and you’re going to give me a DOUCHE?”

“No,” I said, “this isn’t going in your pussy. I use one of these instead of a rectal syringe because it holds more, and the nozzle’s both bigger and more flexible. You’ll need your pants and panties completely off for this, and then bottoms up again, please…”

She complied, and I rubbed some more lube into her anus. Then I slooowly eased the tip in, burying the full six inches in her bottom and watching the fingersized nozzle stretch her pucker a bit. She wiggled around quite a bit, as the nozzle penetrated her. Watching her reaction, I moved it in and out a few times, noting her obvious enjoyment. Finally, I got hold of myself, stopped molesting her bottom with the nozzle, and squeezed.

As the water flooded her bottom, she thrust back hard against my hand, grinding her anus against the base of the nozzle.

“Like that, do you?” I inquired. “Yessssss…. That felt goooood…”

“Well, you may like this part also, then.” With that, I withdrew the nozzle, and inserted a well-lubed butt plug. Cory pushed back against it, jamming it in the last inch or two herself. I told her to hold it in place, and changed to a clean pair of gloves. This time, I didn’t need any lube whatsoever, as I slid first one, then two, then three fingers into her pussy. Normally, I won’t let a lady go until she comes, so to speak. Given that Cory was starting to have orgasms in rapid-fire succession, I just told her to let me know when she felt crampy. The soap hit her 2 or 3 orgasms later, and I pointed her to the pot.

She came back in due course, looking much relieved. I refrained from the ancient joke about everything coming out all right, and helped her back on the table.

“Okay, Cory. We’re in the home stretch now. Left side again, with knees up, please.”

She got into position, and I put the tip of the suppository to her anus. Her sphincter quivered a bit, and I slid it about halfway in, holding it and letting it melt a bit to lubricate her — not that she needed much.

“How’s that feel, Cory?”

“Mmm. Weird, but nice. Kind of slippery. Burns a bit. Is that the Tylenol?”

“Yep. Okay, now, going in all the way. Ready?”

“Ohhh, yesss….”

Her bottom began to wiggle again as I let the suppository slide out a fraction of an inch, pushed back in a bit, then out a fraction, in a bit more, and finally buried the full length of my finger in her rectum. I slowly withdrew, and handed her back her pants.

“Okay, take one of these in your bottom, no more than one per four hours, when you feel headachey. If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days or gets worse, see a real Doc. I’ll give you a ride if you need it.”

She hopped off the table and slid her arms around my neck. I hugged her reflexively, thoroughly enjoying myself.

“‘Doc’,” she murmured seductively, “I feel a LOT better already. Can I come over for another exam soon? My butt gets plugged up a lot, and I could use another treatment…”

“Any time, any time at all…” I said, as I walked her to the door. “You need some rest tonight, but remind me next time you see me that I need to tell you about large-volume enemas…”

“Mmm, sounds interesting. ‘Night, ‘Doc’.”

I patted her bottom and watched her sashay down the hall to her door, reflecting that this was NOT going to be a restful night for me…

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