I looked at myself in the mirror. Sick. I didn't look it yet, but by the way I was feeling, I was sure I would soon. My head was spinning, my throat rough and sore, and my nose had been running non-stop since that morning. It was no wonder that I took the rest of the day off from work My boss had been giving me looks about my coughing all day, and by the time lunch hour rolled around, I was getting cough drops and tissues passed my way more than memos or reports. So I took sick leave and caught the subway home.

Out apartment was cold, as it is always in the winter, because the heater isn't the greatest. Our super tries his best, but he doesn't own the building any more than we do and there's little use in complaining to a divorced twenty-one year-old medical student with a son when you're a twenty-seven year-old business man. Statistics— can't fight 'em. So, we make do with what we have, and what we have are blankets. I made myself some soup and curled up on the couch to relax a bit in front of the tube. Of course, I had another reason for sitting in the living room.

I suppose I should start with that explanation, though it's probably not a good idea to get too weird in only paragraph three. Still, stick with me a moment if you will. It was last month, the night of Christmas. Not Christmas Eve, but Christmas night. My girlfriend and I were fooling around a little as all young couples do, and she stopped halfway through and looked at me weird. Then she shook her head and blushed, going straight into resuming our play. But I pulled back and asked her what was wrong. At first, she didn't want to tell me. But as wonderful as her kisses were, I held them off and persisted until she finally gave in. I was expecting to hear that I wasn't being passionate enough, or that she wanted to break out the handcuffs or something. But it was nothing like that. It still seems rather weird to me, and I'm not quite sure I believe it still. She said she had a strange turn on. And no, it wasn't horrible… it was just weird. It was for sneezing. My sweet little Amy had the hots for people sneezing. I wanted to see what she meant, and though it took a few minutes and a tissue up my nose, I sneezed a few times for her. She got a simply adorable wild look in her eyes, and ravished me like there were no tomorrow. Since I don't have allergies, we haven't really been able to do any more playing with it. But now that I was sick…

The thought of it made me a bit warmer than I had planned on, and my sinuses were starting to get a bit congested, so I decided a shower might be in order. After rinsing dishes, I dragged myself to the shower. I couldn't begin to describe how wonderful the warm water felt on my tired body. And though the steam tickled my nose and made it run, I stayed in a little more than a half an hour. I dragged myself out, thinking of how I wanted to surprise my wife when she got home. I went to change, but realized I'd forgotten to bring in new clothes to change into. So I grabbed for my bathrobe and headed to the bedroom. I didn't make it to the closet, however.

I lay there, feeling her soft pets caress my head as it rested in her lap. I sniffed quietly again, but then suddenly felt the strong urge to sneeze. Still wanting timing to be perfect, I tried to hold it back, but it was too strong for me. I was going to sneeze. To sneeze. Here. Now. Unavoidably. Panicked and a bit nervous, I turned my head instinctively to let it out. “humpCHUH! hetCHAH! huptCHUHH!” It wasn't until I was blinking back and sniffling that I'd realized I'd turned my head to the wrong side. Instead of sneezing freely, away from her, I'd sneezed upon her, down, into her lap. More specifically, her crotch.

She was frozen. Her petting hands had stopped. Her soft whispered silent. Her comforting body tense. “H-honey?” she quivered.

I sat up quickly, pulling back, afraid of what she might do. “I'b sorry,” I snuffled, sniffing strongly afterwards to clear my nose a bit. “I didb't bead to sdeeze od you dere. I'b so sorry, Aby.” I grabbed for the tissues and blew strongly, the noise deafening our ears as the silence ate away at us both. Embarrassed, I hung my head, not wanting to look up at her at all.

Suddenly I felt her lips on my cheek, then her soft fingers brushing my other cheek. I looked up to see her smile. “God bless you, Honey.”

“Are you ok?” I asked, nose running again.

She nodded, rubbing her hand up and down my back. “Wonderful. But you—“

I sniffed loudly to finish for her. “I'b caudt a code id by dose.” I sniffed again, watching as her face lit up and fell both in the same instant.

“Oh, Honey. I'm so sorry. Can I get you anything?”

This was going well after all. I nodded. “I feel all weakg add sickg.”

“What can I do, Honey?”

I sniffed loudly. “I wadt to have sex wid you.”

She pulled back a moment, startled at my frankness. “Are you certain? Honey, you don't have to—“

I nodded, slowly pulling back her skirts and racing my hands up her creamy thighs. Then I loosened the blankets to give her a chance to join me. “I'b wearig dothig ad all udder this blagket. Add I'b so hot add curious I could explode.” It was the truth, a bit more tactfully put than I felt.

She giggled crawling under with me as she shed her blouse and lifted her skirts so her legs could mingle with my own. She knew I loved it when we made love when she wore a skirt. There was so much to feel, such easy access, and so much mystery under its folds. I suppose it was a fetish in weak form, though I'd never considered myself to have one of any kind at all. She pressed her body against mine, letting my head crush gently, weakly, into the nape of her neck with sniffles.