THE SURPRISE PACKAGE
SO. . . some time has elapsed and life goes on. Yes, my rectal thermometer is in the night stand next to my bed and I take my rectal temperature from time to time. Sometimes I will masturbate as I am doing it and sometimes I just enjoy the feeling of taking my rectal temperature. I’ve been a bit more careful lately so as not to get myself into compromising positions with either Stacy or my neighbor, Mrs. Lyons!
Stacy has calmed down and hasn’t said anything more about “rectal temperature taking” either, until yesterday. She invited me to her place for dinner because she said that she had “something really cool to show me”. It’s not unusual that we’ll have dinner together, but it is rare that we get together with any planned agenda, so she had me wondering what it could be.
So, after work I went home and changed into more casual clothes and then headed over to Stacy’s place – it’s only about 5 minutes away. When I got there, I could smell something cooking and it was Stacy cooking shrimp shish kabob on the grill. Needless to say, we had a great dinner complemented by some Pinot Blanc wine. After dinner, we sat and chatted – and finished off the bottle of wine, too! I could feel it taking over and I was also curious about what it was that Stacy wanted to show me. So, I asked.
We were sitting on her deck, so she led me inside and suggested that what she had to show me was probably “best viewed in the bedroom”. Okay – we continued into the bedroom and Stacy suggested that I have a seat on the bed. What could this be? Stacy went out of the bedroom and returned with a small box – a Priority Mail box – and she handed it to me.
“I ordered something from e-Bay and I wanted you to be here to open it with me!”, Stacy said, with as much excitement as a kid with a new toy. “Go ahead, open it!”
I pulled the strip along the top side of the box to expose what was inside – a bunch of bubble wrap and then a box that said: B-D Fever Thermometer Oral & Rectal. I looked over at Stacy, sitting next to me on the bed with a big smile on her face. I handed the thermometer box to her to hold so that I could get whatever else was in the Priority Mail box. Wrapped in newspaper was a small tube of K-Y jelly, several alcohol swab packets, and two exam gloves, along with a handwritten note that said, “Enjoy your purchase!” I set all of this on the bed and I really didn’t know what to think or to say. Part of me was excited because I knew the enjoyment that I had with my recently found enjoyment of rectal temperature taking. Part of me, however, was hesitant, because I preferred to keep this to myself, not to make a big deal over it, and here I was sitting on my friend’s bed with her holding a box of thermometers and “supplies” on the bed!
“Isn’t this so cool?”, Stacy asked. “I now have my very own thermometers!” She opened the box and released two thermometer cases from inside. Both were black plastic with tops that unscrewed, except they were distinctly inscribed with the words “ORAL” and “RECTAL” on them. Stacy unscrewed the top for the oral thermometer and slid it from its case. Holding it up between her fingers, she looked at it and shook it down. Standard oral thermometer with the elongated tip, but I noticed that it had a nice white background and the numbers were in blue prior to 98.6 (with an arrow above it) and red from there to 106. It seemed as though it would be easy to read and I might have become a bit envious that I didn’t have a thermometer just like that. I wanted to see what the rectal thermometer looked like, but I held back, not wanting to lead her on.
Stacy took one of the alcohol packets, opened it, and slid it along the length of the oral thermometer; then, she held it up one more time to read it. Apparently being satisfied that the reading was below 98.6, she leaned in towards me and said, “Temperature time . . .”
I instinctively backed off, even though Stacy is a good friend.
“C’mon – let me take your temperature with my new thermometer,” she said.
As hesitant as I was, how could I spoil her enthusiasm and not cooperate? So, I opened my mouth and Stacy positioned the thermometer under my tongue. Really, no big deal, it just caught me by surprise. Stacy got off the bed and I sat there, with the thermometer in my mouth.
“Seven forty-eight,” she said, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. “We’ll let it register for 4 minutes. I’ll change my clothes while it does.” Stacy must have come right home from work and started dinner because she was still wearing the pants and top that she had worn to work. She walked into the bathroom and when she came out, she really caught me by surprise because she was only wearing her white bikini panties! I couldn’t help but notice her tan and her firm body that was the result of her steady work-outs at the gym. As she walked past me, I also noticed that her buttocks were very firm. She walked over to the dresser and put on a tank top and shorts, very cute. Meanwhile, I had been sitting there with an oral thermometer in my mouth and I have to admit that the thought of having my temperature taken rectally had crossed my mind several times, my anus had contracted, and I tried to disabuse my mind from having these thoughts!
“Oh, my! Seven fifty-five! . . .”, Stacy said she approached me. Standing in front of me, she removed the thermometer from my mouth and I couldn’t help but notice that the tank top was tight-fitting, her breasts outlined nicely and her nipples pressing against the fabric. I watch what I eat and a keep to a regular walking and swimming schedule, but my body doesn’t look anything like hers! Of course, I’m also a few years older, too.
“Ninety-nine point zero,” she said, as she held the thermometer up and read it. “I wonder why it’s not ninety-eight point six?”
“Well, you know that ninety-eight point six is only an average, and it changes during the day,” I answered. “Maybe having a little wine to drink has made hot,” I said, with emphasis on the word “hot”.
Stacy had finished shaking down the thermometer and was cleaning it off with the alcohol swab. I was still sitting on the bed and taking in the sight of “cute & sexy” Stacy with the thermometer. No, I don’t have any female-to-female tendencies, but the fact remained that she did look cute – and sexy – and that she had a thermometer in her hand didn’t help matters much in confusing my libido.
Stacy put the thermometer on the nightstand, but not back in the case. She picked up the thermometer box, both thermometer cases, and the “supplies” and set everything on the nightstand.
“Sit there for a minute. I have an idea,” she said. She took the Priority Mail box from the bed and put it into the trash can on the far side of the room. Then, she went into the bathroom and returned with a bath towel draped over her arm. She reached around me and spread the bath towel across the bed.
“Let’s check that temperature again,” Stacy said.
“No, it’s OK, really – so long as it is around ninety-eight point six, and I feel, fine.” I responded.
“I have another thermometer,” Stacy said, almost teasingly, seductively . . . as she took the rectal thermometer case and removed the thermometer. Again, she was standing in front of me with her “sexy look”, only this time it was a rectalthermometer in her hand as she held it up to read it and shake it down.
“OK, OK . . . very funny,” I said, as I began to stand up from the bed. But, Stacy moved in closer and used her other hand on my shoulder to keep me sitting on the bed.
Keeping her hand on my shoulder, she said, “I really want to take your temperature …,” and then she paused, “…I want to take your temperature . . . with the rectal thermometer. I want to take your temperature . . . rectally,” she said.
I was stunned. I didn’t expect this to happen and yet there was a certain amount of desire along with the hesitation. But, could I just comply with her request? Stacy had turned toward the nightstand and was putting on the exam gloves. This gave me a chance to stand up.
“Look, I know how excited you are to have your own thermometers, and how you want to use them. I’ve been right where you are and that’s just the point. You do this in secret, you don’t share it. It’s just what you do in your private time,” I explained.
Stacy looked so disappointed, standing there in her cure and sexy attire, but with her exam gloves on --- and the thermometers and supplies on the nightstand. I have to admit that it was having a certain effect on me but I felt that not succumbing was the right thing to do. I stood there and watched her use the alcohol wipe along the length of the thermometer and I noted that it was marked similarly to the oral thermometer but I also got a glimpse of another side of it where it was marked B-D RECTAL and, of course, not the elongated bulb of the oral thermometer but the classic pear-shaped bulb that clearly identified this thermometer as a rectal thermometer!
Yes. I wanted it, but I couldn’t let on; I would simply cooperate, with hesitancy. I had a plan . . .
“OK – here’s what we can do. I will use your rectal thermometer to take my rectal temperature and I’ll let you know what it is, how’s that?”, I suggested.
Stacy, with her exam gloves on, was holding the rectal thermometer and that was really getting me excited. I was wearing a sundress and sandals and Stacy took her hand and raised the bottom of my dress up a little bit and said, “I want to take your temperature”, with emphasis on I and your. “Just lie down on the towel and let me do it . . .” The left side of my dress was now raised to my hip and Stacy had moved in a bit closer looking me right in the eye. “Please . . .”
It was almost hypnotic. I felt her hand on my shoulder as I turned to face the bed and then lie on the towel, face down and bottom up. I could feel my dress raised to above my panties; Stacy must have done this as I turned around and laid across the towel. I saw Stacy place the thermometer on the nightstand and then . . . I felt her fingertips at the waistband of my panties, pulling them down to my knees as I instinctively, no longer with any hesitation, raised up for them to be lowered.
“Let’s just get them off,” Stacy said when they got to my knees and, before I could even respond, my panties were off! She ran both of her hands up the insides of my legs, pushing lightly to separate them, until she was almost “there” and then, she used her fingertips across my buttocks. I must admit, that with her wearing exam gloves, it felt kind of different.
I could see her standing at the nightstand with the tube of K-Y jelly in her hand. She was squeezing out some on her finger tip and then, I felt her sit on the bed next to me, and one hand was spreading my buttocks. I tensed up but she continued, saying, “I read that it feels a lot better if you lubricate the anus before inserting the thermometer.” With that, I felt Stacy’s lubricated finger tip between my buttocks and lightly rubbing around my anus. Yes, that felt good, very good and, as I must have been relaxing, I felt slight pressure as she inserted her finger to about the first knuckle. Was it an involuntary response that caused me to squeeze on her finger?
“Ooohhh. I see that somebody likes this . . .”, Stacy said, and I tried to ignore her, but now she was moving her finger from side to side and in and out, and I was enjoying it. I wanted to start moving my hips, and maybe even touch myself, but I couldn’t let on. I just had to go with it and let her think that she was taking her friend’s rectal temperature. She removed her finger and reached to the nightstand for the thermometer, the rectal thermometer. I couldn’t see behind me, but I guess she used the lubricant on her gloved finger to lubricate the thermometer, and, my anus was already sufficiently lubricated.
Again, I felt her hand separate my buttocks and then I felt the tip of the thermometer against my anus. But she didn’t insert it right away; she moved it in circles around my anus until, I couldn’t help it, I raised my hips and the thermometer slid inside! I kept my hips raised to keep it inside and, when I lowered my hips, Stacy pushed the thermometer inside. I was moving against the bed and Stacy was moving the thermometer in and out of my anus and, every once in a while, she’d twist it between her fingers. I was starting to move in rhythm with her, and even moan a little, when she slowed her “teasing” and placed her hand on the small of my back to keep me from moving anymore.
“We don’t want to affect the temperature, do we?’, she asked. “Lie still for four minutes so that we can get an accurate rectal temperature.” Stacy got off the bed and left the room, leaving me lying there with my dress raised, my panties off, my legs spread . . . and my temperature being taken . . . rectally! In a way, it was very calming, so I just decided to lie there and enjoy it, in sort of a nasty way. I looked over at the clock, noting that it said one minute past eight. As I lay there, every once in a while I would press my hips against the bed or clench my buttocks together. I resisted the temptation to reach back and touch the thermometer OR to roll over and put my hand between my legs (like I have done so many times in my own bed).
Another glance at the clock and I noted that it said six minutes past eight. I was feeling really good. Where was Stacy? I couldn’t hold off any longer. I reached back and grabbed the tip of the thermometer, twisting it between my fingers and moving it in and out. It felt wonderful, for just a moment, and then . . .[/color]
[color=#000000]“For somebody who didn’t want to have their temperature taken, I see you are liking it.” Oh my God! It was Stacy. She saw me. I stopped immediately and, by this time, Stacy was standing next to the bed. She took my hand and placed it next to me. Then, she took the thermometer and twisted it just a little bit and then removed it. I was mortified and decided that the best thing for me to do was to just lie there. Yes, there was something erotic going on --- Having just had my temperature taken rectally, being caught “enjoying myself”, and now lying there exposed . . .
I looked over to the nightstand and saw Stacy wiping the thermometer with the alcohol swab and then holding up to read it. Just think, that little glass rod had caused me so much pleasure.
“Wow . . . your rectal temperature is one hundred degrees!”, Stacy exclaimed. “You [u]must[/u] be HOT!”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say.
Stacy shook down the thermometer but then, what she did next, caused me to wonder. She took the tube of K-Y jelly and lubricated the rectal thermometer. Without her saying anything, she sat on the bed next to me and, spreading my buttocks with one hand, steadily inserted the thermometer into my anus. She started moving it in and out, twisting it between her fingertips, and alternating between both motions or combining them. I couldn’t help but move my hips in response.
“It’s OK,” Stacy said, “That’s what I thought was going to happen”. She would do this for a while and then she would stop, “We have to go four minutes to get a good reading,” she told me. After a bit of rest, she would start again. I needed more. Stacy told me when we were approaching four minutes and I raised up to put my hands on my clitoris. I rubbed against my clitoris and pushed hard against my hands. Stacy kept up the movement with the thermometer and rubbing my buttocks with her free hand. It wasn’t long before I was panting and pushing against her while alternately grinding against my hand and rubbing my clitoris. I’ve never HAD my rectal temperature taken before while stimulating myself. It was intense! I had a mini-orgasm, followed by a major orgasm that caused me to collapse against the bed. As the orgasm subsided, Stacy slowly slid the thermometer from my anus. Through my glassy eyes, I could see her at the nightstand, looking at the thermometer, and then wiping it down with the alcohol swab. I wondered what my temperature was. Wait . . . I noticed that Stacy was wearing nothing but her white bikini panties. When did this happen? She looked HOT. What was I thinking? What did I want? My thoughts were interrupted by her . . .
“WHOA! Your rectal temperature is now one hundred and one degrees!”, Stacy exclaimed. “You get so HOT when your temperature is taken rectally!”
I reached over and touched the back of her thigh, running my hand up to her buttocks. “I bet you do, too,” I said, and I could feel her pushing back against my hand. I was having the desire to take her rectal temperature, and to make her HOT.
I sat up on the side of the bed, raising my sundress over my head and removing it. I wanted to be naked. Putting both of my hands around her buttocks, I pulled Stacy towards me and started to kiss her belly. What had come over me? But I continued.
“I want to take your temperature,” I said, and Stacy offered no resistance as I lowered her panties and let them drop to the floor. Keeping her pulled close to me, I continued to kiss her belly and run my hands over her buttocks. I could feel her “warmth” and I moved one hand to the front of her where I felt a very little bit of hair, and lower to her clitoris, and then, yes, to her wetness.
Stacy gasped in surprise and reached towards the nightstand to steady herself. With one hand, I pried between her buttocks so that my finger could touch her anus; with my other hand, I moved it in between her legs to stimulate her.
Feeling this, she readjusted herself and steadying herself on the nightstand. In bliss, though, she had forgotten that was where the thermometers lay, for the moment. Then, they were headed toward the tile floor where they broke and mercury beaded around the bed.
From erotic bliss, the moment changed immediately to one of panic – and reality. Stacy covered herself with the towel and I pulled the sundress back over my head. It was over and now all we had was the memory and a toxic mess to clean up![/color]