I ended up sleeping around the clock. When I woke up late the next morning, the swelling in my throat had gone down somewhat, and my head felt a little bit clearer. But my body still ached, and I was getting the chills again.

My sleep had been fitful and full of wild dreams, many of which unsurprisingly seemed to involve Katie and were, to say the least, erotic. I had a vague memory (or was it actually just a dream?) of her slipping into my room and taking my temperature as a lay on my stomach, but it was all very fuzzy.

My bathrobe had been placed next to the bed, so I put it on and headed unsteadily downstairs to the kitchen. Katie was already there standing next to the coffee maker, reading a book. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and once again didn’t seem to have a bra.

“Good morning, my little patient! How are you feeling?”

I resented a bit the rather condescending remark but was still glad to see her. “A little better, I think,” was all I could muster.

“Great! Go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring you some juice.”

As I took a seat at the table, I noticed the notepad where Mom had written the lists of chores and contacts. There was now a new page open that was obviously written by Katie. The page was titled “Luke Temperature”, and it contained a table with five columns: “Day”, “Time”, “Temperature”, “Method” and “Observations”. As I scanned it, I saw there were five entries. The first two had the words “Mrs W” and “pediatrician” in the “Observations” column. The last two were “Monday 11pm” and “Tuesday 6am”. So, I wasn’t dreaming after all about Katie coming into my room during my sleep! Seeing the word “Rectal” prominently written in the “Method” column of each entry somehow sent shivers down my spine.

“Your fever is down a bit today, but it’s still too high,” Katie said as she reached around me to place a glass of juice on the table. When she did that, her breast briefly but firmly pressed up against me. The gesture sent waves of electricity throughout my body and caused a new pleasant new stirring in my loins. Katie felt my forehead and frowned before returning to the coffee maker to fill her mug.

Just then the front door opened, and I heard Liz’s voice.

“I’m home! Luke, are you here?” shouted my sister as she let her backpack drop to the ground with a thud. She came back to the kitchen and found the two of us.

“Oh, hi, Katie! What are you doing here?” she asked, looking puzzled. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head, thinking about all the possible reasons why Katie would be in our kitchen.

Katie was the first to respond. “Unfortunately, your brother is sick, Liz. I took him to the doctor yesterday and just came by to check in on him.”

That explanation seemed to satisfy Liz, though she was probably disappointed not to have some extra gossip to share. She sat down at the table and started to talk about her sleepover. Then she spotted the notepad. Before I could grab it, she pulled it over to read it. Her eyes grew wide as she scanned the text of the temperature log and obviously saw the notations in the “Method” column. She got a smug look on her face, one that I remembered from my past sick days.

“It looks like someone is still getting the baby thermometer in his bottom!” she exclaimed with obvious relish.

I felt so humiliated and flustered that all I could do was lamely respond, “It’s none of your business!”

As bad as that was, my embarrassment and shame would soon be compounded.

Katie looked at her watch and added, “Yes, and by the way, it’s time to check it again. Luke, why don’t you go to your room and lie down. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Although I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks, I was relieved in a way. At least with Liz here, Katie surely wouldn’t dare lay me across her lap again and take my temperature like a baby. Without looking either of them in the eye, I got up and headed to my bedroom, where I took off my bathrobe and got under the covers. My heart was again pounding with anticipation.

Katie and Liz talked quietly for about five minutes in the kitchen. My apprehension grew as I heard two pairs of footsteps come up the stairs and head into the master bathroom. There was the sound of the medicine cabinet opening. Katie was explaining something, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I thought I heard, “You try now”, followed by another silence, then more quiet talking.

After about a minute, Katie arrived in my room holding up the stubby thermometer, the tip of which was already covered with a thick coat of Vaseline. My heart skipped a beat just seeing that. But then Liz came in right behind wearing her smug expression again.

As I looked on speechless, Katie explained what was going on.

“Luke, I have my aerobics class this afternoon, so won’t be here to take your next temperature in four hours. Your infection is not really improving much, and it’s important not to skip it. So, I asked Liz to take it then. I need to show her how it’s done.”

Panicked now, I tried to protest, insisting that I was 18 and could take my own temperature.

“Well, that didn’t work out too well yesterday, did it?” Katie retorted. Then, in a slightly softer voice, she added, “But don’t worry, that’s pretty normal. When you’re sick, especially with a fever, it’s difficult to keep track of time. You need to just rest and not have to worry about all that.”

It was clear that my feeble resistance was not going to work. In reality, I had always found the idea of my sister watching me get my temperature taken both embarrassing and weirdly titillating. I didn’t quite know how to process all the emotions, so just remained silent.

When Katie sensed that I had come around to accept the situation, she threw me for another loop.

“And don’t worry, Luke, I’m not going to take you over my lap again!” she said with a mischievous grin. Liz’s mouth opened slightly when she heard that. I saw in her eyes that she was scheming but was too embarrassed to give it much thought.

“Now, roll over onto your tummy, so we can get started,” she said. I obeyed, and Katie pulled the sheet down to my ankles.

Once again, I found myself helpless as the thermometer was inserted into my rectum and held in place. Katie explained each step as Liz sat on the side of the bed and watched the procedure from up close. I kept my face in my pillow as I felt both the thermometer sitting deep inside me and my penis pressing uncomfortably into the bedsheet underneath. At the end of five minutes, Katie withdrew the thermometer and gave it to Liz to read.

“101.8,” Liz announced after wiping the thermometer. “I’ll go enter it into the log.”

After Liz left, I just lay there, too embarrassed to move. Katie stayed and started gently rubbing my back. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture. She then started to slowly pull up the sheet. I don’t know exactly what came over me, but I was somehow inspired to turn over before she covered me. Katie smiled and blushed slightly as she saw my still erect penis. She pulled the sheet all the way up then leaned over and gave me a warm kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll see you later this afternoon,” she said in a quiet voice.