I had fever for another day. I went on my side for the temperature check before my nap, which was still positive. I declined the offer for a “little help”. This may sound ridiculous, but I felt like I had some stool waiting, and I did not want Frau Beyer to push the thermometer in in such circumstance, and I felt it would be awkward if she had started rubbing me, and then she would play with the thermometer, and I would have to tell her not to do it, and then she would wonder if I had disliked it the day before (I had not), and perhaps ask for the real reason, and I could not tell her the reason, I mean, could I say “sorry I have poopy waiting”? I know, I’m complicated. After she was gone, I tried getting to sleep, then tried rubbing myself, but the experience was so dull compared to when she had done it that I gave up. I turned and turned and eventually settled on some light reading.

In the evening, I took care to attempt a bowel movement before going to bed. She had me on my stomach for temperature. I expected her to push her other hand under me like last time, but she did not. Her hand was gently on my backside.

“You have a cute behind.” she said. Now, this is the kind of things that a respectable young lady such as yours truly was not used to hearing. Perhaps boys said it to girls, but I had been warned about boys. “Er, I don’t know. — You are a fine girl, Maria.”. With these words, she gave two little kisses to my derrière, one on each buttock. This took me by surprise. I had never thought one could kiss there. I knew boys and girls in love kissed on the mouth, that was it. It further aroused me. I stayed on my stomach, derrière in view, while Frau Beyer read the thermometer (“ah ah! Only 37.6°C! It’s going down!!”), cleaned it and stored it. When she saw me still exposing myself, she sat next to me, patted my behind and gave me another couple of kisses there. “Do I understand you would like something to help you go to sleep? — Yes please.”.

Frau Beyer grabbed both my buttocks with her hands and began massaging them. She again kissed them, longer this time, and rubbed her face on them. Again, I had never thought people would do that. She did so for a few minutes. The experience was incredible. Desire flamed in me, and I wanted her fingers on my “knob”.. At some point, her finger probed me. “You’re wet.”, she announced, “now turn on your back”. I soon was on my back, legs parted. She inserted a finger in my vagina, and rubbed me with the other hand. It did not take much time for me to climax. She made a show to lick her finger, which embarrassed me greatly.

The next morning, Frau Beyer took my temperature again, to see if fever had made a come-back, but fortunately it had not. I was pronounced cured. I was however still quite tired. I skipped the morning classes and went back to college in the afternoon.

I awaited the evening with trepidation, expecting some more… how to say that, “intimate care”? Frau Beyer however gave no indication that she would engage in this very particular kind of play, and I was too shy to ask for it. A song from the eighties springs to mind: “too shy shy, hush hush, eye to eye”. This chorus summarizes well my atttitude in the following day. With respect to Ulrike Beyer, she later told me she had deliberately not proposed anything to me, because she wanted me to makes the moves to ask for sex. The next day anyway, my period started, and at that time in my life, I would certainly not have requested intimate play, this would have been gross and embarrassing.

Frau Beyer had thought she could take care of me because she had had the ‘flu some weeks before, as I was in a week-end with my parents, and thus was immunized. It must have been another virus, since she fell sick a few days after she last took my temperature.

“I guess you gave it to me

— Have you checked your temperature?

— No, I haven’t.

— Do you want me to help you with it?”.

I was just amazed I had dared say those words.

“Why not indeed. I guess I’ll also need an aspirin. You know where the pharmacy supplies are. Should I await you in my bedroom?

— Yes please.”

I actually took a bit of time to gather the thermometer, Vaseline, alcohol, cotton swab, aspirin, and the bag to carry them, which was stored closed to the ground in the cupboard, reason for which I had missed it. I was nervous. What had I said? Or: Wasn’t Frau Beyer wondering what I was doing? I recalled her remark about washing hands before touching me down there, and did likewise.

When I reached her bedroom, a glass of water in one hand, the bag in the other, I was almost shaking with fear and anticipation. She was watching me, without speaking. She saw my uneasiness, and broke the ice:

“Should I lay on my side?”

With a shaky voice, I said “Yes, please, Frau Beyer.”. She pulled her covers off, undid her clothing, and laid in the position request, even flexing the knee of her top leg so that I would get easier access to her anus. I was transfixed. I could see her somewhat plump buttocks, her anus and even her vulva.

I had seen naked girls in changing rooms, though many hid themselves behind towels. However, they were standing, one would just see their pubic hair (perhaps, if, it was sparse, a hint of their slit) on the front, and their buttocks from the rear. This is very different from a position that opens up the cleft… It was the first time I saw another adult this way. I had seen children, when baby sitting, even changing diapers, but never an adult.

I prepared the thermometer, sat on the bed, parted her buttocks, approached the tip. I nearly forgot to tell her to “bear down”. I saw the puckered hole open up when I did. I just the device in—just the thin tip. I held it in, my hand on her buttocks, timing it with my watch. I timidly caressed her back with the other. After I withdrew the thermometer, I had an instant inspiration and kissed her on both buttocks. They were soft, warm… I rubbed my cheek on them. I understood why she had done that to me.

I cleaned the thermometer with alcohol, stored it, took a deep breath and asked

“Do you want me to… help you get you to sleep

— This is very kind of you Maria. I’m however tired and I have a headache, and I fear I would not enjoy do honour to your ministrations. Perhaps tomorrow?”

I was both disappointed and relieved, if having such contradictory sentiments makes sense. I wished her good night as she was drinking her aspirin, and retired to my bedroom. I still was shaky. I laid in bed. I was still seeing that soft, warm, derrière. I rubbed myself, day-dreaming that Frau Beyer was doing it to me, or that I was doing it to her.

The next morning, Frau Beyer was asleep too late for me to check her temperature before leaving for college. When I came back, I asked her how she felt. “Tired. Headache.”, she said with a slight smile. “You know how it goes.” I proposed cooking for the both of us. We spoke of various things, classes, and so on, but not about the elephant in the room. She went to the bathroom as I was doing the dishes. When she came back, I inquired.

“You still seem feverish. Have you checked your fever?

— I have not.

— Ooh, Frau Beyer. You should have. I’ll have to check it for you!”

I’m not a great joker, but I thought I may as well take it lightly.

And thus I finished the dishes, washed my hands and went to her room. This time, she disrobed and presented her derrière without need for me to tell her. I kissed and rubbed my face or her fleshy mounds, blushing when smelling her scent as her cleft was widened. I then took her temperature while caressing her back. Three minutes elapsed. Then was the time of truth, or should I say the time of dare? I maybe took more time that I would have needed to clean the thermometer with alcohol. Then I asked

“Do you think you will need help getting to sleep tonight?

— Yes, please.

— Would you please go on your back and spread your legs?”

Now, dear reader, you maywonder why, a shy girl, I had not simply tried to approach her from behind, or to have her on her stomach, and instead had her “show the wares” in such an impudic way. Well, I had thought about it in advance.

First there was curiosity. I had no knowledge of adult female genitalia, except my own. (I had a look at my vulva at some point with a small mirror when I was a teenager… the bathroom door was locked and mom could not walk in! And… well, I again had a look at myself when washing myself that fateful day. Yes, I know, this sounds ridiculous.) I wanted to see how Ulrike Beyer was “down there”. Second… I was inexperienced. I did not want to do any harm, and one way to avoid mistakes was to see what I was doing (my grandmother had strongly recommended that about sewing and other manual labors).

So, I had a look at her private parts. They were different from mine, I don’t know exactly how to say that. Her hair was sparser than mine, and her labia (I had seen that word in some medical book where I had tried understanding these parts I was prohibited from touching) less fleshy. Her little knob seemed inflated. I touched it and rubbed it. It was interesting. She was moist. After rubbing her there, my fingers dared venture below. Her hole was very moist. I continued rubbing her knob and teasing her labia. Would I dare?

I pushed my finger in. Contrary to me, she was not tight. My finger entered easily. She was wet inside, it felt nice. There were interesting differences in textures.

Now that I was in, I was unsure what to do. I had an idea that males, during coitus, would move their penis back and forth (I was naive, but not that naive), so I did likewise with my finger. With the other hand, I rubbed her clitoris. While doing this, I hit something a bit hard inside of her. “Rub faster”, she said. Her breathing was now fast. She climaxed.

This was the first time I made somebody other than myself have an orgasm! She pushed my hand away from her clitoris. I removed my finger. I thought about licking it, as she had done, but it still was too gross for me.

“Was it… was I good?

— Yes, it was good. Yes, you were good. Can you please kiss me goodnight?”

So I guessed her goodnight and tucked her in bed.

I was in a daze. I went to pee and wash my hands, then to my room. Gentle reader, you may wonder if I masturbated that night. Well… at that point in my life, I still was not comfortable with masturbating while on my period. I wondered whether Frau Bauer had touched herself after “helping” me. I was sure she had.