oneofyou @runnynnose - Tumblr Blog

I can't contain myself any longer, hahaha, here goes! I've had a lot of fun with the last one in particular! 😆 I very much hope you'll enjoy it too. 😉 A polite but very ill desk clerk, a cop with a VERY messy cold, and a nurse with the kink having to work alongside an oblivious-to-kink but viciously cold-ridden doctor. Contains some descriptions of masturbation at the end.

Part 3!!!

The hotel desk clerk, a tall, handsome woman in her 30s, whose sharp features would have given her a somewhat intimidating appearance if not for her warm brown eyes, interrupts herself mid-sentence.

She asks the female cop taking statements to hold on a moment, then sneezes into a tissue, gently massages her nose through the tissue for several seconds, and sneezes again before lowering her hand.

It's obvious to Tess that this woman has a really bad cold, no matter how much she tries to be stoic about it. She has sneezed seemingly every couple of seconds the whole time Tess has been here about the fight in the hotel bar, either into a tissue or the crook of her arm. She has dark circles around her pretty eyes, and while she has made an effort with her makeup, the continuous use of the tissues – the one she holds now isn’t the first she’s used since Tess arrived – rubs any powder and foundations off her nose in no time, making it redder and redder as time goes by.

“Excuse me, officer,” she says, quickly dabbing at her nose again as if to make sure nothing has leaked out of it. She has an interesting nose; not exactly big, but with nostrils that are naturally wide, making it look like they’re constantly flaring. When she breathes, there’s an almost bubbling sound from inside her sinuses, which she seems quite embarrassed about, but she’s also reluctant to give her full nose a proper blow in front of an audience.

Tess smiles and tells her it’s fine.

“Coming down with something?” she asks, even though it’s glaringly obvious that this cold has asserted dominance over this woman’s sinuses. She is not coming down with anything; she is very, very down with this cold already.

“Oh God, yes,” she says and laughs, a raspy laughter that turns into a chesty cough that she smothers into her elbow. There is a bitter, almost angry undertone to that laughter, and as soon as she gets her cough under control, Tess learns why.

“We had a guest last week who had a really horrible cold and never covered her mouth when she sneezed. Just sneezed freely no matter where she was. I could have caught it at any time during her stay, of course, she was spreading it everywhere, but I think it happened the evening before they checked out. She sneezed all over me; I wish I was exaggerating, but she really did. It can’t be that hard to cover your mouth, can it?”

Tess, who rarely covers her mouth when she sneezes either – who wants snot and spit in their hands or on their clothes, honestly? – only hums in response.

“Either way, I’m confident I caught whatever sneeze plague she had. I nevehhh…”

Her naturally flared nostrils flares even wider, almost impossibly wide in Tess’s opinion, and then brings her hand back up to capture the sneezes in her spent tissue.

“Eehhmptschhoo! EhhmpSSSHHoo! Hah…MPTSSCHoo! ‘scuse me again, oh my God! I never sneeze this much from a cold normally,” the desk clerk says and shakes her head, still with the tissue to her face. “It’s not even as bad as hers, but it only started two days ago. I don’t think it has peaked yet.”

She pinches her nose in the tissue and rubs it, up and down, trying to alleviate an itch that seems relentless.

“Sounds like you need to take a sick day,” Tess remarks.

“Yeah, right,” comes the sardonic response, followed by a wet noseblow as she finally accepts that she can’t make it through this conversation without blowing her nose. “If I’m gone one day, this whole place falls apart.”

Tess thinks it looks like this woman is the one who’s about to fall apart, but keeps her mouth shut.

That noseblow proved too much for the heroic tissue, and the cold-ridden woman disposes of it in the trashcan, which is already housing many of its fallen comrades. She then immediately takes a new one from a box that’s two-thirds empty, and rushes to get it up to her face before she has to sneeze again. She does manage to catch the sneezes, but it’s at the last moment.

“Hehssshhoo! Essshhhooo! HgnnNTSSSHHoo! Oh my Gohh-hhhESSSHHHHoo! God, ‘scuse me, I… hhhESSSHHHHoo! I’m so sorry about this…”

Tess waves it off. She’s not here to interview the clerk about her cold, notable as it may be.

“Can you tell me anything else about the incident?”

“I think that’s it,” she says, once more massaging her nose with the tissue she just sneezed into. “I only saw parts of the brawl; I called you right away.”

“As you should,” Tess says and smiles. The woman in front of her looks completely drained, but she manages to return the smile as she removes the tissue from her face. Her cheeks are flushed, either because of the force of the sneezes or because she’s embarrassed. Maybe she’s running a fever, too. If her job is as stressful as she alludes to, she’s bound to get a bad run of every illness she catches.

“Well, if you think of anything else that can be of help, no matter how small, call me,” Tess says and stands up, handing over a card with her cell phone number and the number to the station.

“It’s embarrassing, we never have bar fights in our hotel bar,” the woman says, and she sounds almost offended.

“Never say never,” Tess says. “Whenever there’s alcohol and people at the same place, fights can happen. Actually, whenever there’s more than one person in one place, fights can happen, especially if there is a pre-existing disagreement underneath, as seems to be the case here.”

“I suppose,” the sick woman replies, balling up the tissue and rubs it under her irritated nose, first lightly, then harder, really pressing it up against the underside of her flared nostrils. It looks painful against the already chafed skin, but she doesn’t stop. Her eyes get an unfocused, sneezy look in them, but she visibly fights it off and exhales in what’s half relief, half disappointment.

How itchy is that nose anyway? Tess wonders.

“We’re getting this sorted,” she promises and extends her hand. The other woman only looks at it first, hesitating.

“I should probably not shake hands, I don’t want to pass this on,” she says, gesturing to her face with the hand holding the very well used tissue. Her nose is the main recipient of the gesture, Tess presumes. That progressively redder, nostril-flaring nose. “I promise you, officer, you do not want this cold.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I never get sick,” Tess says in a flippant tone.

“Never say never, was it?”, the woman responds, her eyebrows raised, but when Tess doesn’t pull her hand back, she takes it briefly.

“Feel better,” Tess offers, and then she goes to find her partner, who’s been interviewing the other staff.

Behind her, Angelina sneezes again into another tissue, over and over, grateful that the cop has left so she doesn’t have to struggle so hard to hold them back as much as possible. For every time she has sneezed during this conversation, she has held back an additional two sneezes. She has never been this sneezy before in her entire life, and that says a lot because she has pretty awful allergies early in spring. This is something else entirely.

She hopes the handshake hasn’t doomed the policewoman to the same miserable fate, but she did insist on it and Angelina was careful to cover her sneezes.

What she doesn’t really think about is that she held her tissue in her right hand – or both hands – and thoughtlessly moved it to her left hand to shake the other woman’s hand. She has been sneezing and blowing her nose so much into each tissue that she can feel the wetness through them, in fact that’s when she decides to toss it and grab a fresh one. She doesn’t want to waste tissues when she is going to need every single one to get her through the day. So no matter how careful she has been to cover every sneeze, there were still viruses in that handshake, now passed over to Tess’s hand.

Walking out to the lobby where her colleague waits, Tess reaches into her pocket and takes out some Tums. All the coffee she’s had on an empty stomach today doesn’t sit well with her, but it’s okay, it’ll be better in a little bit.

It doesn’t cross her mind that she’s touching the antacids with the same hand she just shook the sick desk clerk’s hand with, and then puts them in her mouth. But even if it had crossed her mind, it wouldn’t have made a difference, because the cold-ridden woman had covered her sneezes so carefully, and besides, Tess never gets sick anyway. A little heartburn from way too much coffee is the only thing that bothers her healthy, athletic, fit body.

***

“AaaaSSSCHHOO-ASSSCHHOO-hah-GEHSSSHHH-OOO…!! Hahh-HARRGGSSHH! Fuck be!”

“Holy fucking shit, Tee,” her partner Ben says, laughing. He is driving and that is a good thing because Tess can not stop sneezing today. It’s only getting worse. They come with no warning, just a sharp pinprick in her nose and off she goes; there is nothing she can do about it but let them out.

“I kdow, she says and scrubs at her nose with her knuckles. “Ugh… srrrrfff. This cold really hit be like a tod of bricks. Snnrrrkkk. Guhh…-AAAH-RGSSSCCHHGH!-snrrrkk. I’b so stuffed up it’s dot eved fuddy. ARGGSCHHHH!”

”Here’s a radical suggestion; blow your nose,” he says.

”I would if I could… snnrrrfff… dothig cobes out… huhrresscchhh!”

”Well, stuff sure comes out when you sneeze, anyway,” he says.

“Are you saying I’b gross?”

He shrugs, grinning.

“If the shoe fits…”

“I didn’t kdow you were such a gerbaphobe,” she says.

“I’m not,” he replies, “I’m just making an observation.”

“HARRGSSSCHHH!” Tess sneezes without abandon and a string of clear snot is violently ejected from her tormented nose along with copious amounts of substantial spray. Some is spattered across the glove compartment in front of her, most is on the front of her uniform.

“As I was saying,” Ben says and hands her a napkin with a small, dried coffee stain but otherwise clean.

Tess takes the napkin and grumpily wipes her nose and uniform. The droplets covering the glove compartment will dry on its own, no one but her and Ben will see it anyway and she can’t be bothered. She is annoyed with her nose not giving her any warning; she usually has plenty of time to turn away and sneeze to the side or towards the ground. Also, she has always been a messy sneezer, but this cold makes them messier than normal.

“I cadt help it,“ she says, “I cadt feel theb cobig.“

“Tee, if you don’t blow your nose soon I’m going to need a translator to understand you,“ Ben says as he pulls into the parking lot of a gas station and convenience store.

“Fide, I’ll get sobe tissues while you fill up od gas,“ she says and gets out of the car.

When she returns from the convenience store, she’s already on the second tissue, blowing her nose with all her might while walking towards Ben, who laughs again.

“Nothing coming out, huh,“ he says as she tosses the two used tissues in a trash bin as she walks past it, then digs out a third tissue from the puny travel pack she bought.

“Now it’s all coming out at once,“ she grunts and sneezes again, this time taking advantage of the force of the sneeze to blow her nose. She hasn’t fully gotten the tissue up to cover her cold-tortured nostrils though, so Ben is treated to the unpleasant view of her nose ridding itself of a wealth of mess in one strong blast.

“God, there’s so much snot,“ Tess comments, both disgusted and fascinated by her body’s expulsions.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed,“ her partner says as she cleans herself up, blows her nose for a fourth time, and discards the used tissues.

“How do I sound now? “ she says.

“Say something with lots of n’s and m’s, “ he asks her.

She thinks for a moment.

“Cinnamon buns and M’n’M’s.“

He nods with a perfectly straight face.

“Yeah, I think I can get by without a translator now.“

She gives him the finger and opens the door on the passenger side, but just as she’s about to get in, another sneeze sneaks up on her.

“UH-ASSSSHHH!“

Tess snaps forward as with every sneeze before this one, but this time the car door is in front of her and she whacks her head against it, hard enough to split her eyebrow. Blood starts gushing.

“Fuck, that hurt,“ she says, dizzy from both the impact and the sneeze. Ben takes one look at it and cringes.

“Yeah, we’re going straight to the ER, you might need stitches,“ he says.

Tess objects, but it’s only symbolic; it hurts like a motherfucker.

***

“How did this happen?” Dr Jasmine Ashford asks. She’s the head of the hospital’s emergency department, and right now she may be a bit rougher in her examination than she’d be with a civilian; she is not overly fond of the police force in this city. Far too many of them shoot first and ask questions later, causing rather than preventing the influx of gunshot wounds to the ER, and then they come in with fairly minor injuries expecting to be treated first.

“Oww, careful, Doc! I just split my entire head open!”

Jasmine rolls her eyes. Minor injury, major drama.

“I know it looks concerning with all the blood, but head wounds always bleed a lot. It’s really just a scratch, you don’t even need stitches. I’ll just clean this out and tape it. Now, how did this happen?”

The cop looks uncomfortable. Her cheeks begin to flush red, a similar shade to that of her nose. She is visibly and audibly sick with a really bad cold on top of everything, and frankly looks and sounds like she should be home in bed rather than out in uniform.

“Well?”

“I sneezed.”

“You… sneezed?” Jasmine doesn’t smile, her face is completely expressionless, but behind her stoneface she is amused. Not by the injury itself; she’s not so callous she thinks anyone deserves to be in pain, but by the ridiculous way she acquired it.

“Yes. I sneezed. So what?”

“Well, I’ve seen burst eardrums and burst blood vessels in the eyes and even a cracked rib from sneezing too hard, but I’ve never seen a head laceration caused by sneezing. Humour me, please. Do elaborate.”

“I hit my head on the patrol car door when I sneezed.”

This time the briefest expression of amusement crosses the doctor’s face as she begins to tape the laceration.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. It’s this fucking cold’s fault, the sneezes just take me by surprise,” the cop mutters, and, as if on cue, she whips her head to the side – Jasmine scowls, knowing she has to start over with the taping – and sneezes over her shoulder. “Huuh-GGTTSSCHHGH!-snrrrrfff-GUHHESSSCHHHoo!”

The sneezes are wet and snotty, and without a word, Jasmine hands her a tissue so she can clean herself up.

“Can you get me anything for this cold? snrrrrffff. It’s fucking killing me.”

“If you plan to keep banging your head against things when you sneeze, that does sound like a valid concern,” the doctor says dryly, “but if you avoid doing that from now on, this cold isn’t going to kill you. There are over-the-counter medications to ease the symptoms.”

“Those things don’t do shit.”

“No, they actually don’t,” the doctor agrees, “but it’s the best we got. There’s no cure for the common cold.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, well, a cold is nothing compared to a lot of things we see here in the ER, so… just drink lots of clear fluids – by that I mean water – and rest, let it run its course. Maybe put on a helmet so you don’t hit your head again,” she adds as an afterthought while she starts over with taping the laceration on the cop’s forehead.

“Very funny, Doc.“ But she does smile.

“Thank you, I’m doing stand-up comedy as a side gig.“

“Don’t quit your day job.“

Jasmine chuckles.

The uniformed woman leans her head back a little.

“Hold still please, I’m just about done,” the doctor says and looks away from the laceration she’s been taping just in time to see the patient’s red nostrils, gleaming with mucus, flare wide and her mouth fall open, sucking in air in a deep gasp. The doctor takes a step back, but she’s a moment too late.

“AAARSSSSCHHUH-AH!-HARRGGSSSSHHHuuh ! ”

Jasmine winces when she feels the spray on her face. It’s not that she hasn’t been sprayed and splashed with all kinds of body fluids before; of course she has, she works in the ER. It’s that as much as she trivialised the common cold when speaking to the patient, she absolutely despises having one herself. She is a woman who very rarely, almost never, gets sick with anything. She is among those few lucky enough to carry the gene that makes her immune to the norovirus, she has no chronic illnesses, allergies or sensitivities, and she hasn’t had a cold in five years or so. But in the rare instances that she does catch a cold, it goes straight to her nose and tends to stay there for the whole duration. It’s like an endless goddamn carnival of sneezing and noseblowing. It never goes to her chest but it tends to linger in her sinuses, keeping her in that loop of sniffling, sneezing and blowing her nose for even longer than any normal person is symptomatic from a cold.

There is no reason to believe this will be the cold that gets her when she has treated God knows how many people who have coughed in her face the past few weeks, and come out of it perfectly fine, but the risk is there and it’s a thought she’d rather not entertain.

The patient wipes her nose and looks at her with a sincere apologetic expression.

“Sorry, Doc. I told you, they come out of nowhere. It caught me off guard.”

Jasmine sighs and finishes the taping.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens. I’ll get you some Ibuprofen for the pain,” she says and walks off, taking a detour to the bathroom and washes her face.

She’ll be fine. It may be a potent cold, but her track record all but guarantees she’ll get out of today’s little mishap unscathed.

***

ER nurse Caitlyn cannot believe her luck when Dr Ashford, head of the ER, comes in for her shift a few days later, dragging an absolutely frothy headcold with her. That cute cop with the wicked heavy cold sneezed her right in the face a couple of days ago, but Caitlyn has seen similar things happen before and Dr Ashford never caught a thing from either patients or colleagues. That woman simply never gets sick. Flu season after flu season, Caitlyn has been working the same shifts as this doctor, and even when the entire staff passes something back and forth, she never gets as much as a sniffle. Caitlyn has hoped to see her with a cold someday but never dared to believe she actually would. But now that glorious day has come.

Jasmine is a beautiful woman in general, but Caitlyn’s favourite feature of hers is her striking nose, it’s so majestically chiselled that it could have been a work of art – not the kind of symmetrically perfected, boring art that the plastic surgeons up on the fifth floor create, but the distinct, unique kind only nature does and only when it feels particularly forthcoming. It’s very prominent but not to a point where it completely takes over her face, it’s angular in just the right places, curved in just the right places, with an ever so slightly upturned tip and arched nostrils that allows you to see a bit of its inside. It’s a fantastic nose, but unfortunately also very resilient; Caitlyn has never seen her sneeze, not even a random sneeze, much less from a cold.

Today, this gorgeous nose is an angry scarlet red, from the tip to high up on the bridge. The rims of her nostrils are even more irritated, burning with a miserable yet somehow elegant shade of ruby red. The glimpse into the even more irritated inside of her nose reveals that it’s glistening with moisture, threatening to spill out of those cold-battered nostrils at the slightest provocation… such as breathing.

Caitlyn has never seen this nose look so sensitive before, and the prospects of finally getting to see her sneeze are good, to say the least. The flaming redness from the viral infection suits her nose beautifully, just like Caitlyn has pictured in her mind many times, usually at home with one hand down her pants.

Jasmine, unaware of the delight her dreadful cold brings to her colleague, is focused on the prickle that seems to fill her entire nose. She furiously rubs the heel of her hand against her hot, squishing, liquid-filled nostrils, then pushes the tip of her nose upwards – leaving a very distinct horizontal crease across the bridge – while giving a thick, repulsive snort.

“…snrrrkkkk…“

“Good morning, doctor,“ Caitlyn chirps, unable to completely hide her selfish joy to see this beautiful, always in-control woman practically overflowing with something she cannot control at all.

“It is not,“ the doctor deadpans, then buries her face in the sleeve of her lab coat and aggressively barks out a dry-sounding one-syllable sneeze. It sounds like her sinuses are so blocked with congestion that nothing shifts inside, so the full power of the sneeze has to force itself out through her throat, clawing at her vocal cords on its way out.

Dry sneezes aren’t Caitlyn’s favourite type, but Jasmine’s sneeze is fantastic nevertheless. The angry desperation in the sound, it’s delicious.

“Oh, bless you. Why not? “

Oh, she knows she shouldn’t push her luck like this, but she has worked with Jasmine for several years and has never seen her as much as touch her nose before. To see her display this formidable cold and being grouchy about it, is so hot that Caitlyn feels a little bit lightheaded.

It turns out Jasmine may hate having a cold, but she has no objections to talking about it.

“It’s not a good morning because I have a raging head cold of… snrrkkk… of epic proportions and… snrrgggkkk… and m-my nose is… is… haahh-…“

She buries her nose and mouth in the crook of her arm again, barking out another rough, very sick-sounding sneeze, only wetter this time.

“-RAHESSSCHHooo! “

“Bless you, doctor.” It almost comes out as a purr.

“ Problematic,“ the doctor finishes as if Caitlyn hadn’t said anything, and pours hand sanitizer into her hands, rubbing it in with a look of utter gloom on her face.

That lovely nose being problematic today, huh? Caitlyn immediately decides to stay close to Jasmine this shift. She wants to see more of this.

She gets her wish right away; perhaps it’s the strong fumes from the hand sanitizer, perhaps her nose just really is that sensitive from this cold, but the gloomy look on Jasmine’s face is slowly replaced by a pre-sneeze expression. It’s the sneeziest pre-sneeze expression Caitlyn has ever seen, and she is something of a connoisseur on the subject; it’s like every fine muscle in in Jasmine’s face is perfectly tuned to create the optimal pre-sneeze face.

Jasmine holds up a finger in that universal ‘hold on’-gesture.

“I feel more coming,“ she says in a breathy voice and slowly begins to raise her arm, but not covering prematurely, meaning Caitlyn is treated to more of this unintentional visual erotica.

The sick doctor’s pre-sneeze face is a study in itchy suffering, from the trembling, parted lips to the deep-red, needy nostrils, to the fluttering eyelids and the fine lines between her eyebrows becoming visible. A tear begins to run down her cheek as she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Oh God,“ she whimpers, then leans into the crook of her arm, sneezing heavily. It sounds almost like she’s wrestling these sneezes out of her agonised airways, slamming them into the sleeve of her white coat. Her shoulders shudder from the force.

“AAATT-JIHHSSSSHHH!! HATTT-JIHHSSSCHHHoo!!”

“Bless you, doctor! Wow, are you okay?“

Jasmine shakes her head, still with her face hidden in her elbow, eyes closed. She takes a deep sniffly breath before lowering her arm.

“Doh, I’b dot okay. This cold is ad idsult.“

She sniffles again.

“I deed a tissue,“ she says and walks away, sniffling thickly, as if those sneezes loosened up the congestion which is now flooding her nose.

If so, Caitlyn thinks ‘a’ tissue, singular, is very optimistic.

***

Jasmine certainly has problems with her nose today. She is a complete mess. She keeps blowing her nose with a thick, gurgling, wet sound and yet her nose is still overflowing with cold. She sneezes into the sleeves of her lab coat. She sneezes into tissues she has stuffed into her pockets, or which are readily offered by Caitlyn or other staff. She sneezes into the collar of the warm, soft knitted sweater she’s wearing under her lab coat. She sniffles, she snorts, she sneezes. She comments on how her nose feels. She sneezes. She complains about her cold. She sneezes. She does not apologise about her excessive sneezing. And she sneezes.

To Caitlyn it feels like the entire shift consists of phrases and nose-based sounds like

“Where are the… uh, hold on, I have to sneeze… AaESSSCHHH! Ugh, this damn cold… where are the discharge forms?.

“Wait, I’m so itchy… hahh… harusssshhh! ERSSSSHHHHuh! Ugh... you were saying?“

“… snnnrrrkkk… ugh I’b so congested agaid I can’t breathe through by dose… snrrrrgggkkkk…“

“And of course now my nose is running like a faucet instead.“

“Did you do a… test… uhh… for… what’s it called… arrgh, I can’t even think today! My entire head is full of snot, there are no brain cells at work anymore. HuhASSCHHH! Pregnancy test, oh my God!”

“This is ridiculous, I need to sneeze so much… I swear this cold is a punishment from a higher powerREESSSHHHH!“

“Uh-oh, here we go agaihh… HATSSSHHHH! ERRASSHHH! HAESSSSHHHEH! I just can’t stop sneezihhNGGSSSSHHHIEW! Isssschhew! HARRSSHHHOohh! Yes, of course I’m sick, you think I’m sneezing like this for the sheer fun of it?“

“Oh come on, why do I need to sneeze again…?! ATSSCHHHihh-ISSSSHHHIH-HITSSSSHHHOOO! Snrrrrfff… Am I done? Please tell me I’m done… no… haahh… HATSSSHHHOO!”

“Ugh, my nose… it’s so…I still feel a sn-… sn-issschoo-isschhih-ahhissshhh! Ghh-ISSSHHH-ESSSHHHOO-ESSSHHHIH-whatthehellisthisSSHHHOOO!!“

“Ugh, I feel like someone’s shoved a feather up my nose, it tickles so much, right here, and I can’t…. I can’tTIEEESSSHHHH! ESSSSCHHHOO! I can’t get rid of it…“

A few hours of listening to this endless cold-tickle-congestion-sneeze-related whinging, feeling like she’s in the middle of a sneezefic, Caitlyn is about ready to hump the good doctor’s leg. If it had been a busy shift she would have had something else to occupy her mind, but it’s been very slow.

When an emergency does come in, Jasmine calls for Caitlyn and gives her the most jaw-dropping task imaginable.

“I need you to wipe my nose for me.“

“Huh??“

Caitlyn is sure she misheard that. There is no way she actually said what Caitlyn thought she heard.

But Jasmine repeats the thing that Caitlyn thought she couldn’t possibly have heard. When Caitlyn just stares at her, dumbfounded, the doctor decides to clarify.

“I need both hands, my nose is running, and I obviously can’t drip on the patient. It’s no different from wiping sweat off a surgeon’s brow, get over here and bring the tissues!“

Caitlyn would argue that it’s very, very different for many reasons, but she has sprung into action automatically; there’s a patient that needs help and if she has to do something incredibly erotic for the oblivious doctor in order to do her part, then so be it.

At first, she just takes one tissue and wipes off the mess that leaks out of those red, feverishly hot nostrils, dabbing at the underside of her nose with a hand that wants to tremble but that she won’t allow to.

“That tickles,” Jasmine says in a breathy voice. “You’re gonna make me sneehh…”

Before she can finish the sentence or do what her body threatens (or promises) to do, Caitlyn snatches a whole bunch of tissues and holds them over her nose and her mouth, and it’s just in time too because Jasmine, trying and failing to hold back, sneezes a really messy, closed-mouthed, half-stifle into Caitlyn’s tissue-covered hand. She takes a sharp, deep breath that is muffled by the tissues, and sneezes again. This time she doesn’t even attempt to stifle. She’s clearly not good at it anyway.

“..haaGH-YIIH-ESSSSHHHOO ! “

“Bless you, doctor,” Caitlyn says. It’s an incredibly sexy-sounding sneeze, making her swoon for a moment, and she’s relieved she manages to avoid moaning out loud when blessing her.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jasmine mutters, ignoring the blessing like Caitlyn suspected she would. It’s alright. She says it mostly for her own pleasure anyway.

Somehow Jasmine has managed to keep the pressure steady while the other doctor is intubating. Caitlyn is standing close enough that she can feel Jasmine’s breath hitching throughout her body. Her chest is rising and falling in erratic waves before she sneezes into Caitlyn’s hand again. Hard.

“ESSCHHHOO! ISSCHHHOO! ESSCHHOO-EESSCHHHAH!” A viscous, snoring inhale, followed by a harsh, snotty “HARRUSSCHHH!” that is so forceful that Caitlyn only barely manages to keep the tissues clasped over the lower part of her face.

“Bless you, doctor,” Caitlyn says again, again the blessing is ignored.

“This isn’t going to work,” Jasmine says, “just put a mask on me, please.”

Why didn’t you put one on yourself right away, before you sanitized your hands and put on gloves? Caitlyn wonders but doesn’t say out loud. Most likely she just didn’t think about it; if she usually never gets sick, anything that has to do with working through a cold just isn’t that close to mind.

Another nurse grabs a mask from the container on the shelf and hands it to Caitlyn, who currently functions on two levels; one is the stone-cold professional that just does what needs to be done, the other is fluttering around in the clouds of lalaland feeling like she’s practically jacking off the head of the emergency department in front of God and everyone.

“Okay, blow your nose first and then I’ll put the mask on you,” Caitlyn says to the doctor, whose nose may be a disaster zone, but her hands are still professional, working on muscle memory, they are not distracted by what’s going on above her shoulders.

“Fucking cold,” Jasmine mutters, “is there any limit to this humiliation?” But she takes a deep breath and blows as hard as she can into the bundle of tissues Caitlyn holds over her nose. Caitlyn can feel it through the layers of paper, the hot, contagious mess drenching the tissues, and there is far more of it than she thought. Luckily the trashcan is close enough that she can drop the whole wad into it right away. She can’t wipe the residual wetness off the other woman’s face, the tissues are far too soaked for that, so when she puts the mask on her, it sticks to her skin. Jasmine makes a grimace behind the face covering.

“Better double-mask me,” she says in a clipped tone, and Caitlyn puts a second layer of surgical mask on her. The mask is barely in place over the first when Jasmine lets loose with a colossal, watery sneeze. And another, and another. Undeterred, she starts giving orders through the sneezes, and Caitlyn wonders briefly if she’s in heaven or in hell while she calls up to surgery to see if they can take over the patient.

Once the patient is stable and wheeled off to surgery, Jasmine disappears. Caitlyn has a good idea of where; the ladies’ room. She’s going to clean herself up, because she must have sneezed almost a dozen squelching wet sneezes into that mask and gotten all of it ricocheting back in her face.

Caitlyn doesn’t follow her. On one hand it’s due to a sense of guilt mixed with sympathy: she thinks Jasmine deserves a little bit of privacy, without being quite so enthusiastically sexualised by her perverted colleague. On the other it’s basic self-preservation: she fears that if she’s subjected to one more thing originating from Jasmine’s anguished sinuses in the next few minutes, be it sound or fluid, she’s simply going to cum in her pants.

“Wow,” her nurse colleague says, leaning against the wall. “What a cold she caught. I hope we’re not all going to catch that monster from her. I’ve never even heard her sneeze before, much less having full-out sneezing fits like that.”

I hope I catch it, Caitlyn thinks. She doesn’t enjoy getting sick herself, despite her odd little kink, but she’s making an exception for Jasmine. There is something wildly sensual about the idea of having her viruses inside her own body.

“She can’t help it,” she says. “We’re always a physician short here, she can’t call in sick for a cold either way.”

“I know. Poor Dr Ashford,” the other nurse says.

“I don’t need to be pitied,” Jasmine says from behind them, as if she hasn’t spent the whole shift ‘informing’ (which was really very thinly veiled complaining) everyone about every detail of her misery.

The other nurse excuses herself and scurries away, not wanting to test the exact level of grouchiness this cold gives the doctor.

Jasmine sighs. She looks a bit embarrassed.

“Thank you for helping me out earlier. That got really disgusting, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I should be the one thanking you, she adds in her head.

“Have you heard from surgery? How’s the patient doing?”

“Better than you are, I think,” Caitlyn hazards a joke.

“Good God, let’s hope so, because I feel like I’m at death’s door,” Jasmine says and rolls her eyes. “Before you say anything, yes, I am indeed going to complain the rest of the shift, if we’re supposed to have gender equality, then I can and will have man flu instead of a plain cold.”

“For what it’s worth, that cold sounds bad enough to qualify,” Caitlyn says, and Jasmine laughs. It’s a raspy, wheezy laughter, but it’s genuine enough.

“Sorry to say, but I think you might find that out for yourself in a day or two,” Jasmine says and blows her nose.

“I…” hope so, is what Caitlyn almost says. “I’ll be fine,” she corrects herself.

“Let’s hope. By the way, I meant what I said; I don’t need to be pitied. I am very good at pitying myself, it’s a real talent of mine, so I don’t need others to. Just let me keep at it, that’s how I cope.”

Caitlyn chuckles.

“Got it.”

“Aaaand now I’m going to sneeze again,” Jasmine says in a resigned tone. She twirls her hand in front of her face while she’s building up to it; it’s not that ‘dramatic fanning’ thing that some girls do, this is more of an impatient gesture; ‘hurry up!’

Caitlyn is watching as the sneeze takes hold of the doctor little by little. It’s a slowly building, torturous sneeze, but eventually she explodes into the already used tissues she’s holding.

“AaaRSSSHHHuh! HaRSSSHHHHuh!”

They scrape at her throat and it sounds like it hurts.

Caitlyn has cooled off enough that she can handle it without a panty emergency. Barely.

“Bless you, doctor,” Caitlyn says again, not expecting any answer this time either. But Jasmine gives her an exhausted smile.

“Thank you. Now I need coffee, or I’ll fall asleep in a corner somewhere before the shift is over.”

“Good idea.”

“Which one? Coffee or falling asleep in a corner?”

Caitlyn laughs.

“Both sound good, but coffee is probably best while on the clock.”

“Unfortunately, you are correct,” Jasmine says and leaves to get that coffee. She sneezes several times walking down the corridor, head bobbing forward with harsh, noisy sneezes into wilting tissues.

Caitlyn lingers, not sure if all this is really happening or if she’s having the most vivid sneeze dream of her life.

***

Caitlyn knows that she’s needed at work, and the cold that she indeed caught from Jasmine isn’t anywhere near as bad, at least not yet, but she calls in sick anyway. She won’t miss out on further dreamy observations in doing so; Jasmine gave up a few hours into yesterday’s shift and went home, declaring that she would go hide under a rock for the rest of the week, and if they needed her, they should think long and hard about it and then call in someone else. No one has quite figured out yet what to even make of Dr Ashford with a cold, other than a collective ‘what the hell was that?’.

Caitlyn doesn’t want to pass this cold on, that is one reason to stay home, but she would be utterly useless either way because now that she has processed the whole thing, she is endlessly horny thinking back at the sexy doctor’s nasty, sexy cold, and how Caitlyn somehow held out the entire shift without touching herself.

Now she’s going to make up for that self-restraint; she can’t stop thinking about how it felt to hold that tissue to Jasmine’s red-hot, streaming nose and wipe the mess off her chafed philtrum, to feel her wet, contagious sneezes through the layers of Kleenex, and to innocently say ‘bless you, doctor’ every time that ailing, dripping, reddened nose erupted with yet another one of those offensively messy sneezes.

Her clit is throbbing just recalling these memories. She’s had multiple orgasms – fits of them, you could say, as intense as the sneezing fits Jasmine’s delicious cold gave her – numerous times already, but her craving pussy still wants more.

Caitlyn rolls over on her back in bed, closes her eyes and thinks back to what it was like, putting the mask on the helplessly cold-ridden doctor and how she immediately sneezed over and over into that mask without holding back even the slightest, such desperate and such juicy sneezes, she must have nearly drowned in her own cold behind that mask and yet Caitlyn knew her nose still wouldn’t stop tickling because those strong, torturous sneezes just kept coming, those awfully wet sneezes, those indecently juicy sneezes… no, let’s call it what it was, snotty sneezes, such snotty sneezes just exploding right into that flimsy little mask, her exquisite, ticklish nose sneezing out torrents of mess… it was shocking how such an elegant nose was capable of producing such loud, uncontrollable noises and a deluge of something as inelegant as snot…

Caitlyn’s hand goes back inside her panties for the umptieth time since she got home after That Shift, the cotton fabric is as drenched with her juices as Jasmine’s tissues were drenched with snot, her swollen folds hot and wet, her clit steadily pounding with need, needing this orgasm as badly as Jasmine’s nose needed the sneeze, and she only has to touch herself for a few seconds before she reaches climax, riding the wave of multiple orgasms again and they feel even better this time than any of the many times before… but she still knows it won’t be the last time she’ll need to do something about the state the doctor’s godawful cold puts her in.

The cold may be awful, but oh, the orgasms… the orgasms are amazing!

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