In the cold gray light of dawn, Michael woke with the agony of another throbbing headache. Placing his hand on his sweating forehead, he muttered under his breath, "Damn, damn, damn. I hate being sick."
With a sigh, he crawled out from under the covers, careful not to wake the sleeping angel on the other side of his bed. Her full name was Angela, but she would always be an angel to him. Stepping softly, he made his way to the medicine cabinet to see what drugs he still had in stock. There wasn't much there. Fortunately he was not one to get sick often; unfortunately he didn't get drugs often, but there was a box of Tylenol. Swallowing two, he crept back to the bed, hoping that his illness was not going to ruin the plans they had made for the weekend.
Angel stirred, wrapping her arms about him, kissing his cheek lightly. She moaned softly, whispering in his ear a question that indicated she was already wanting him. The soft seduction in her voice, the heaviness of her breath, the tip of her tongue tracing the outer rim of his ear, all heightened the effect of her quietly whispered question: "What do you have planned for me today, Lover?" Michael groaned once again, and this time she recognized the inner agony that was imbedded in the soft sound.
Michael felt terrible. Not only was he sick, he hated to disappoint her in any way. "I am sorry, my darling Angel, but I am so sick, I feel like world war three is going on in my head, and every muscle in my body is playing a game of who hurts the most. I am so sorry to ruin our plans, Babe, but I really feel like crap." He lay back on his pillow, waiting for the Tylenol to take effect and take the edge off the pain. If only there was a pill that could take away the pain of disappointment.
When she pressed her lips to his forehead, his fever was obvious. Michael had always been a very athletic lover, and for him to be so listless first thing in the morning was a strong indication that he was more than just a little sick. Angel, however, was never one to be denied. She looked down at him with a soft smile on her pretty face. "Awwwww, you poor baby. What ever can I do to make you feel better?" A mischievous grin brightened her face as she leaned down to kiss his closed eyelids. Tenderly, she curled her fingers around a strand of his sandy blond hair, moving closer to kiss the tip of his nose, his chin, and his lips. Angel knew the effect she had on Michael, and she knew how much he hated not being able to please her in every way, but today it was him that needed some loving attention, and she was going to see that he got all that he could handle.
Lovingly and tenderly, she kissed his lips again, working her way down his throat and onto his chest. She had always wanted to play doctor, and this was the perfect opportunity. "Does it hurt here?" She kissed his nipples gently, running the tip of her tongue over them. "Or here? What about here?" Her kisses covered his stomach as her hand ventured lower, a soft giggle escaping her lips. Taking his hardening cock in her hand, she rubbed it softly. "Well, this seems to be working." The grin on her face became perfectly wicked as she sought to remind him that, as much as she liked to receive it, she liked to give pleasure, especially to a poor, sick baby; a description Michael hated having pinned on him.
Michael moaned again, but this time it was more from the pleasure of having her petite little hand wrapped around his cock and massaging his balls.
Angel could not help another laugh. "You must be feeling okay down there. That is one muscle that doesn't seem to be protesting." Her hand lovingly tickled his shaft, feeling his growing desire at her touch. Slowly, she continued kissing her way down his body, and Michael could feel his headache dulling. He loved the feel of her fingers and mouth as they tickled and tantalized his flesh.
He felt the soft curls of her dark hair brushing against his cock, and the heat of her breath as she bent to kiss the area between his navel and his now painfully erect cock. Reaching out, he touched her cheek. "Baby, you don't have to do that." But she hushed him, leaning down further still to place a kiss on the head of his throbbing erection.
Angel's tongue gently slid and swirled over the head, teasing him as she pressed the tip of her tongue into the slit of his cock-head. Steadily, she worked her magical mouth over his lower shaft, enjoying the masculine taste of him. Over and over, up and down, she knew well the secrets of controlling this man's reaction to her beauty and skill. Up and down, swirling, sucking, licking, teasing, her mouth performed feats of sexual magic upon his wand. Michael had never thought it possible for him to lose his self-control. Now, however, as he moaned and filled his lungs with air, he fought to suppress the heights of his pleasure, but found he was unable to deny her ability, or her desire.