As slow as I could possible muster I pressed the metal tip up against her asshole and she tensed up for a second. She relaxed soon enough and I very slowly sank the thermometer inside of her. Towards the end it got steadily wider, and I stopped pushing as soon as I heard her grunt a little bit. After about the shortest two minutes I had ever lived through the thermometer beeped loudly, and display she had a fever of 39 degrees. "And?" She asked, after I had slowly pulled it out again, taking in the scenery. "It says 34, I think I did something wrong". "Weird", she said, as she rested her head back down, already assuming I was going to try again. This time I made sure tot not even touch the button until after I had already stuck it three quarters of the way into her ass, savoring every possible second of it. This time also keeping her cheeks spread with my hand. When I finally pulled it out again it showed the exact same value as before, of course. "39 degrees, you're really sick!", I. We were connected in a way that most people should not be. The Grim Reaper had stolen our mates and he was now our common enemy. We knew the immense pain of losing a loved one far to early. We were kindred spirits. He looked down on my hand on his, slowly reached over and put his right hand on mine, and then slowly closed his eyes. I’m pretty sure he was feeling the same way I was. It felt good just to be touched by someone again. For myself, I think it is one of the things I’ve missed the most. Dale wasn’t a man of many words. There were many nights when he would come home from work, eat dinner, and then plop down on the couch and not say another word the rest of the night. I was completely fine with that because he would always be touching me. His hand would be draped over my thigh or he would put his leg over mine. Many nights he would rest his head on my lap and fall asleep watching TV. It felt so, so good to feel that human contact again. “…is Andrew,” he said. I realized my.
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