I'd shattered in his arms from my first non-self-induced climax.
I frown vaguely remembering being fretful again last night and running a temperature. I recall just as in the jet, him using wet washcloths to keep me cool and getting me to swallow two pills before I went back to sleep.
I notice now that his manhood isn't pressing against the material of my underwear as I am once more semi-nude. So all that had actually happened last night and isn't a figment of my imagination. For the second time, he had taken care of me while I was feeling poorly and I don't know how to react to that.
He is sleeping so close to me as if he doesn't want to let me go. His breath is warm and disturbs my hair each time he exhales. I can't believe he is still asleep with all the light filtering into the room because he hadn't closed the blinds last night.
