After a series of relationships during her studies, Sandrine thought she had found the right guy, at least one worth trying to live with. They had signed for renting an apartment together in September… Now was time for introducing Frédéric to her family!

Since childhood, Sandrine spent time every summer in her grandparents’ large, albeit somewhat decrepit, house. Her grandfather had by then passed away, and her grandmother was keen on welcoming her granddaughter and her boyfriend.

Unfortunately, when Sandrine picked Frédéric at the train station, it was obvious that he was in no good shape. There was a virus making the rounds, Sandrine had fell to it a little while before, and now was Frédéric’s time. Sandrine thought it prudent to shorten the welcome, lest her elderly grandmother would get contaminated, and send Frédéric to their room.

“We should check your fever. I’ll be back. Get in bed.”

She came back with a bottle of alcohol, some cotton, and a long sheath whence she extracted a glass thermometer, which she shook, until the liquid was sufficiently low, then handed to Frédéric, who had stared at her, surprised, during the whole process.

“You’ll have to put it in your behind.

— What?! I mean, can’t we just use something modern, like one of these that we use in the ear?”

Sandrine sighed. When she was growing up, her parents used modern appliances, but her grandmother, a lady who kept equipment as long as it was working to her satisfaction, used a glass thermometer, which went only in one opening. Inevitably, going there every summer and during many other school vacations, she had fallen ill, and had become acquainted with the outdated device.

“I’m afraid my grandmother does not have any of these.

— Anyway I’m not that sick. I’ll be ok with some rest.”

Sandrine brought a light dinner to Frédéric (again in the hope of avoiding contamination by eating in the common room), as well as Doliprane (brand name for paracetamol / acetaminophen). Frédéric went to bed early.

During the night, Frédéric woke up Sandrine. He was cold and shaking. Sandrine was concerned. Not too much concerned — she most likely had had the same virus, sure she had taken one week to get well again but it had not been scary — but still, he seemed to have high fever. She frowned and left. Shortly later she came back with some toilet paper and a small cup containing a dollop of margarine.

“Sorry Frédéric, but we need to check your fever. If you don’t know how to do it, then I’ll do it. Please lower your pajama bottoms, roll on your side, and stick your bottom out.”

She felt a bit strange acting this script (the margarine, the little speech) that her grandmother used to act when she was not old enough to insert the thermometer herself. Frédéric frowned and did not seem to move.

“Frédéric, don’t be silly. It’s not the time to fuss. I need to check if I need to call SOS Médecins or something.”

Frédéric complied. Sandrine anointed the thermometer tip with margarine, parted his bottom cheeks. The tip rested on his opening. “Bear down… like passing stool.” She nearly said “like going poo”, as she recalled her grandmother saying; just in time she thought that using grownup words would help with Frédéric’s dignity. Frédéric complied, and the thermometer tip entered. Sandrine timed 3 minutes, removed the thermometer, read it aloud “39.1°C!”, cleaned it up and stored it back while Frédéric pulled his pajamas up and got under covers again. Sandrine did not have the heart to tell him to wipe.

Later in the night, Frédéric woke up to pee. Still tired, and a bit disoriented, he woke up Sandrine.

“You should perhaps use the bucket instead.”

Sandrine’s grandmother’s house was old and originally built without indoor toilet facilities; one had to go to a outhouse, or use a chamber pot. The days of the outhouse were long gone, and a bath and toilet had been installed in an extension. This still meant going down two flights of steep stairs, and Sandrine’s grandmother had thus retained hygienic buckets in bedrooms, just in case.

“I’ll look the other way… No, please not standing, sit on it.”

Sandrine heard Frédéric peeing in the bucket. Not very dignified, sure. He replaced the lid and went back to sleep.

Frédéric at last managed to get some sleep. He woke up late. Sandrine was already gone. He grudgingly peed again in the bucket, and then lied again in bed.

Sandrine came back later. “How are you doing now?

— A bit better than during the night.

— Good. Well, let’s check your temperature again, shall we? I need access to your bottom… On Monday I’ll buy another thermometer.”

Frédéric complied, and again the thermometer went in for three minutes. Sandrine’s hand rested on Frédéric’s bottom throughout the operation. Standard eroticism puts a lot of emphasis on the female body, particularly breasts and buttocks, she thought, but men’s bottoms are also nice. Frédéric’s bottom was definitely cute. Her hand gently caressed his buttocks. Maybe it was her sexual frustration (she had not seen him for weeks) that was playing out.

This time, however, Sandrine passed him a sheet of toilet paper. “I guess you would like to wipe.”. She had actually thought about wiping him; treating him like a sick little boy had a fun aspect… but she did not mean to unduly humiliate him.

She came back with Doliprane and breakfast, and took it away. She even emptied the bucket. She felt like being some kind of nurse or nurse assistant.

She again took his temperature in the evening, in pretty much the same way. The next night went better than the first. At some point, she heard him stirring, and then the noise of pee in the bucket. Oh well, better that than him slipping in the stairs or ramming furniture while walking half awake in an unfamiliar house.

Then came morning temperature time, her hand cupping his bottom. Fever still up.

“I need to buy some Doliprane.”

At the pharmacy, she asked to see the ear thermometers. They were a bit pricey. She had a look at the electronic thermometers that could be used orally or rectally. She finally decided against purchasing any of these. Frédéric, after his initial reluctance, was now quite obedient… and it was quite fun playing nurse.

In the afternoon, she went to the supermarket to pick up groceries for her grandmother. She had an idea… When she started her sex life and condoms, she had experienced difficulties and used lubricant gel to ease things. This would be more convenient than margarine.

Evening temperature time came. Frédéric was better. He frowned when he saw lubricant gel, but did not protest and obediently presented his bottom. The cute little hole swallowed the thermometer tip. She hugged him, one hand on his bottom, one hand caressing his chest. Then… she realized Frédéric was half-erect.

“Hey! Seems like you’re doing better!”

She toyed with his penis while the thermometer registered. Her mind wandered.

She recalled the time when she had experimented as a teenager with her grandmother’s thermometer, pushing it up her anus after lubricating it and playing with herself in the “front”. Did Frédéric feel the same? She had heard allusions to women touching their partner “back there”, how this could lead to erections, but she had never tried anything like this. Her anal experiment with the thermometer had been one-shot, not because it had been unpleasant, but because she had thought it abnormal.

The thing is, the anus was taboo. Anal sex was something for gays, porn movies, and maybe Muslim girls that wanted to preserve their hymen. It was not something that normal girls did. It was disgusting to push an object up the anus even if it felt good. She did not want to be a weirdo. Maybe she had missed something? In any case, dealing with Frédéric’s bottom had been fun and exciting.

When measurement was done, Frédéric was fully erect; perhaps not as hard as he would be when not sick, but still. Sandrine wiped his anus, cleaned the thermometer and ordered him on his back. She undressed, fetched a condom and installed it on his member, toying again with it to retain its hardness. She lowered himself on him, then began fucking him, rubbing her clitoris on his pelvis as she moved. Sandrine eventually had an orgasm.

“Do you want me to stay on top?

— Please.”

Unfortunately, Frédéric, still tired, had trouble reaching orgasm in this position. Sandrine rolled on her back and spread her legs. Frédéric, despite being tired, began fucking her and eventually spent his seed in the condom.

Morning temperature time came again, then the next evening. Frédéric was now better, and the fever seemed down, but he was still tired. Furthermore, Sandrine had resolved to do a little experiment. She lubricated the thermometer generously before pushing it in – and this time, she did not push the thin tip only, but also part of the thicker body. Then, reproducing a gesture she had tried in her teenage years, she moved the thermometer in an out slightly, removing the thicker part and reintroducing it. Her other hand checked that Frédéric’s penis was hardening. Another condom was spent.

Later, when Frédéric and Sandrine moved together into their rental apartment, Sandrine set up the “first aid / house pharmacy” with a glass thermometer and gel. She had a slight headache some day and seized the occasion.

“Would you please take my temperature?”

And, blushing. “Can I do it while laying across your lap?”

Sandrine felt it exhilarating to expose her bottom in this position, feel Frédéric part her bottom hole, tell her to bear down, and insert the thermometer. Would he…? Yes, after a while with the tip inside and his hand on her bottom, she felt him push the thicker part in. Then, as he had left the thermometer in, she felt his fingers go south. He did not say anything as the tip of his index checked that she was moist and her labia engorged.

Was she a weirdo? But then so was Frédéric. And it felt so good!