Sunlight or Shadow

Mr Sneezy

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The car rolled along the highway through the warm spring sunshine. Cherie was at the wheel and Enya was on the stereo. Karen sat in the passenger seat, eyes closed, singing softly to the music, never mind that half the lyrics were in a Welsh dialect.

Cherie refused to drive in the city. She said the traffic was like a Snickers bar. Full of nuts

It was the long weekend in October. A very wet winter in the state of Victoria had everything blooming early for spring and the allergy experts predicting a very bad period of hay fever this year.

“You sure this stuff is gonna make me sneeze?” asked Cherie abruptly.

Karen stopped singing and opened her eyes.

“Surely will,” she said happily. “The walking trails around Apollo Bay are full of wattle this Spring and millions of people are allergic to it.”

Cherie nodded slowly.

“That’s good,” she said. “I could do with something to clean my sinuses out.”

“Oh, you’ll get that, alright,” answered Karen. “Did you bring everything you’ll need?”

Cherie nodded again.

“Four clean hankies and a box of man-size tissues are all I need.”

She paused.

“Plus my hiking boots, very tight jeans, satin blouse and my baby doll nightie.”

She looked away from the road a moment to give Karen one of her leering “let’s get down and dirty” looks that never failed to crack her demure little lover up.

Karen burst into a fit of giggling.

“You look like a horny model,” she managed to say after a moment.

Cherie returned her attention to the road.

“Well, I’ve got the looks of a model-we both have- and I’m always horny, so there ya go.”

The music cut to “March of the Celts”, a personal favourite of them both, and conversation stilled as the notes drifted from the six speakers.

Unbeknownst to Cherie, Karen had a little contribution of her own to the reason for their trip. She had rung Julie Thorpe in Canberra, the only other person who knew about their sneezing fetish. One long conversation later,  Karen knew where to get the finely crushed oleander leaves that had sent the pretty political law graduate into violent sneezing fits as they engaged in three-way girl-to-girl fun one rainy Saturday afternoon five years ago. Karen had accidentally found, that same afternoon, that she was also allergic to it. Now she had a sachet of it in her handbag and intended to use it that evening.

Enya was saying how strange it was to be “On Your Shore” as they topped a rise, a sign advising that it was ten kilometres to Apollo Bay. Following the arrow on the sign, Cherie turned right for the descent into the township.

Karen spoke.

“Babe,” she said. “Which do you think comes first? Sunlight or shadow?”

Cherie looked at her sidelong for a moment.

“Sunlight or shadow? You’ve been sniffing my pussy juices again.”

Karen chuckled.

“You know I have, but they haven’t fried my brain just yet. No, it’s something I  read in a philosophy book last year. Sort of like the chicken and the egg, but a more modern question.”

“No one ever solved the chicken and the egg, either. It’s an unanswerable question,” Cherie pointed out. She looked up at the blue sky through the windscreen.

“Plenty of sunlight up there,” she observed. “No shadow though. That any help?”

Karen shook her head.

“There’s always shadow,” she said. “You just don’t see it all the time.”

Cherie knew this subject would reappear intermittently until Karen got an answer or got tired of it.

“I’ll get back to you on it,” Karen said cheerfully, no doubt reading her mind.

Through the speakers, Enya was saying that hope had a place in a lover’s heart. The car topped another rise and both girls gasped involuntarily. Below them, bathing in noon sunlight, was the coastal township of Apollo Bay.


Cherie turned down a side street and found the motel without difficulty. Deliberately, she drove past the reception office and parked in a spot reserved for the visitors of house guests. Cherie and Karen never went to any great lengths to hide the fact that they were a lesbian couple, their looks alone breaking many men’s hearts, but in a situation such as this, it was best to err on the side of caution. Karen had merely booked a suite for two people. End of story. No gender-specification. Just better if it wasn’t advertised that the person with her was another woman.

She stepped from the car and headed for the office, leaving Cherie alone with her thoughts. Cherie turned off the CD player and considered what their main objective was this afternoon. Somewhere on those walking trails above the town were large growths of wattle-apparently the Australian equivalent to American ragweed- and she was going to sneeze her head off, an action that always caused serious arousal for both of them. What a mad world!

A minute later, the door opened and Karen’s little buttocks were back on the passenger seat.

“Right at the end,” she said happily. “And there’s no one booked into the room next door tonight.”

She gave a derisive sniff.

“That guy at the desk must have been eighty if he was a day,” she said. “He seemed to think I was up here for a dirty weekend with my boss or something.”

“Well, you’re definitely here for a dirty weekend,” Cherie said with an evil grin. She keyed the engine and reversed from the visitors space. They rolled through the car park of motel rooms, dotted with other cars, many bearing interstate plates. One was from Australian Capital Territory and Karen instinctively thought of Julie again. Wow, that girl could sneeze!!

Thinking of Julie reminded her of the oleander leaves in her bag and she smiled inwardly.

As they rolled through the car park, she noted that their was no Room 13, not an uncommon situation in the hospitality industry.

“Room 25,” she announced, following the numbers. “Glad it’s not 26. That’s double 13.”

“Let’s go to a multi-story sometime and ask for Room 69,” suggested Cherie.

Karen pretended to be annoyed.

“Don’t you think of anything else other than sex with me?” she snapped.

Cherie pursed her lips pretending to think carefully.

“Nope”, she said finally.

“Great,” Karen enthused. “Me either”.

Cherie parked in front of Room 25 and they stepped out of the car simultaneously. Leaving the two overnight bags on the back seat for the moment, they headed straight for the door. Brandishing the key, Karen had it open in an instant and they hurried inside.

The room was sumptuously furnished with a king size bed, not unlike the one they had at home, a big-screen TV, minibar and plenty of wardrobe space. Having done a one-minute tour of the main area, Cherie headed purposefully for the bathroom. Karen followed in her wake, a little slower, comparing the room’s furnishings with their own.

Entering the bathroom, she found spotless porcelain, complimentary soaps and shampoos, plenty of towels and her lover sitting on the toilet.

“Now how,” Cherie demanded unashamedly, “are we supposed to make love in a shower that size?”

It wasn’t unusual for the girls to shower together, which usually led to other things at the same time. The one modification they had made to the Toorak unit Karen had inherited was a new bathroom with a shower big enough for the two of them. Karen poked her head in and observed it to be a ridiculous size and would be unable to hold two people.

“It’s not good,” she agreed. “Don’t they realise a pair of randy young women might want to use this for something other than a shower?”

She withdrew her head, looking wistful.

“Next time, let’s try  Room 69 at the Hyatt.” 


Karen collected their bags from the car and they unpacked the small amount of belongings they had brought for their one night fact-finding tour of wattle. Despite her annoyance at the size of the shower, Cherie elected to have one, then prepare for the afternoon’s mission.

Karen made coffee and relaxed on the bed, perusing the tourist brochures until she found what she was looking for. Shortly, a shower-fresh Cherie cruised naked through the room and began to dress in her satin blouse and, with some difficulty, her skin-tight jeans. She wore no bra or panties.

“I’ve found the place we want,” Karen said quietly as she eyed her lover.

Cherie nodded.

“Let’s do it then,” she answered decisively.

She took a clean white handkerchief and put it in the pocket of her blouse. Then she opened the box of man-size tissues and put some two-dozen into a small shoulder bag. Preparations were complete. They drew together and hugged. The hug turned into deep kisses. Buttocks were grasped and breasts rubbed together. The bed was in danger of being used before evening.

Finally, Cherie broke the clinch.

“Come on, sweetie,” she said. “Take me to paradise. I want to have sneezies.” 

This time, Karen took the wheel and a bare ten minutes passed before they were out of the township and on a narrow tourist road. To the left was bushland, to the right was the sparkling ocean. Abruptly, Karen veered left into a car park, stopping as far away as possible from the other three vehicles it contained.

She killed the engine and they sat in silence for a moment, looking at the wooden-railed track which led away into the bush. Both were reminded of another track, long ago, that had led to their own special place. A place where they had perfected the intricacies of girl to girl love. And how to use allergies for exquisite pleasure.

“There’s wattle up there according to the tourist brochures,” Karen said, finally.

“Let’s go find it,” Cherie returned.

They alighted simultaneously, stood and checked each other out. Both wore their tight jeans,  blouses and hiking boots. They came across as to gorgeous young women going bushwalking, albeit, a little overdressed for the occasion. Cherie slung her bag full of tissues over her shoulder and gave her lover a barely perceptible nod, one of the many ways they communicated without speaking. Karen zapped the car doors, slid the keys into her jeans pocket, and together, they strode on to the walking trail.

Moving at a brisk pace for the next fifteen minutes, they climbed steadily up the light slope. Coming the other way on the ascent, they passed three groups of people and Karen supposed there were no more left ahead of them. Three cars in the car park equalled three sets of annoying tourists. Once they were gone,  her and Cherie would have the place to themselves.

Heads turned, male and female, as the girls strode by. However, Cherie and Karen were not interested in social niceties. There was wattle ahead and Cherie’s sinuses needed clearing out.

After another five minutes at the same pace, Cherie felt the ever-familiar tingle in her nose.

“We’re nearly there,” she announced.

Karen stopped at once.

“Tickles?” she asked.

Cherie nodded.

“I can’t hold onto it,”  she said. “I’ll have to…..let……ah……ah…………ah….”

She cupped her hands over her mouth and nose, unable to finish saying “let it out.”


She bent over with the three convulsions, straightened up and checked the thin film of saliva on her palms.

“Bless you, snookums,” said Karen excitedly. “I think we’re ready.”

“Lead the way,” sniffled Cherie.

Karen grabbed Cherie’s damp left hand and they walked another hundred yards. Then the tickle in Cherie’s nose advanced again.


She triple-sneezed once more, this time onto the back of her right hand.

“Oh sweetie,” she moaned. “I’ve got the sneezies. There’s wattle here.”

Karen knew, despite her plaintive tone, her darling wasn’t really in any discomfort. Cherie enjoyed her allergy attacks, induced or natural, and they had led to some mind-blowing lovemaking sessions for that very reason. At that moment, they rounded a bend in the track. Before them, yellow clumps of wattle flowers dotted the ground. This was the place they were looking for. They both stopped abruptly and Cherie tuned to face her lover as her sneeze came on for the third time.

Karen knew what Cherie wanted to do for her and didn’t hesitate, turning so they were face to face, as if about to kiss.


Karen felt the invigorating spray of saliva from each sneeze as it landed squarely in her face.

“Oh bless you,” she gasped, her arousal growing by the second.

Now they did kiss, Cherie’s wet lips meeting Karen’s eager ones, hands clasping breasts. They broke apart after some ten seconds and Cherie breathed through her runny nose.

“Oh……sweet wattle,” she said softly.

She stood, gripping Karen’s shoulders, eyes closed and panting as her nose tickled unceasingly. Wanting to sneeze. Needing to sneeze!


Again, Karen’s face was sprayed, her arousal now acute.

“I can’t stop,” gasped Cherie, swiping at a tendril of mucus that hung  precariously from her left nostril and threatened to stain her blouse. Karen moved around so that they stood hip to hip. She lifted her right hand to gently cover Cherie’s mouth and nose. Without build-up, Cherie launched into another explosive fit, courtesy of the wattle spoors floating in the air.


Karen’s hand was soaked and with that fit over, she quickly examined it, sniffing unashamedly at the saliva.

“Tissues,” gasped Cherie, fumbling at her shoulder bag. Her eyes were watering, her nose dripping. She couldn’t remember an allergy that had ever come on this fast and violently in the twelve years since she and Karen had “come out” to each other. Despite everything, the sneezing and loss of control was, like Karen, making her hopelessly aroused.

Grabbing several tissues, she got them to her face just in time for the next onslaught.


Seven! Cherie could not recall having sneezed that many times in a row before.

The tissues were a soggy mess. She passed them to the awestruck Karen and grabbed some clean ones.

Her nose was not going to give in while she stood amongst these wattle plants, but it could do with a damn good blow. And that was what she did, curtailing the next fit which was already building. With a deep breath, Cherie blew, expelling what felt like a gallon of mucus, getting some on her fingers in the process.

Karen grabbed these tissues as well, her vagina nearly as wet as they were. She noted at once that they were too soggy to play with effectively and she wished that Cherie had blown into her hanky instead.

“You’ve got a handkerchief as well, sweetie,” she reminded her red-eyed beauty.

Cherie could already feel the next fit of the sneezes coming on and her nose was running again, despite having just been blown.

She yanked out the hanky from her blouse pocket.

“Next fit goes……ahh…….ah………into this…………..ahhh……”

She opened the hanky quickly, still panting. The sneeze seemed to pause for several seconds, tickling violently, but undecided about release and Cherie would have made a comical sight to anyone else but Karen as she stood there, handkerchief  poised, a weird expression on her face.

Then the dam broke yet again.


These sneezes, caught neatly, were a little muffled, but no lighter. Cherie wiped her nose as she lowered the hanky, but did not blow it.

“I  have dever sdeezed this buch at wud tibe,” she said in a clogged voice. “Dod eved with a cold.”

Karen knew this to be true. She had never seen Cherie this bad. But she was also concerned for her lover, who, despite enjoying the sneezing, was looking worse by the minute. Karen figured they should be retracing their steps within the next five minutes.

“Godda sdeeze aged,” Cherie snuffled, raising the hanky.

“You’ve had enough,” said Karen suddenly. “Let’s go before you damage your sinuses or some bloody thing.”

In her concern for Cherie, she had forgotten her arousal.

“Just a ..ah….. few…..ah….. more …..I… TISSHHISSHOO!! … ATISSSHOO! …..HATISSH….HATISSH….TISSHOO!….”

This time, Cherie blew her nose copiously. She folded the hanky and passed it to Karen, then grabbed the remaining tissues in her bag for another blow.

“Oh, we’re havig fud dow,” she said. Grasping Karen’s shoulder, she blew one-handed into the last of the tissues. Karen sneaked a look in the hanky, opening it to rub her own nose against the warm, sticky mess in the cloth. Her heart and pussy pounded together and she thought she might come on the spot.

Cherie took a jagged, wheezy breath, already building up for the next block of sneezes. On hearing this, Karen decided that was enough.

“Cherie, you’re wheezing. We’re out of here before you have an asthma attack.

Cherie cast the mucus-filled tissues aside and turned to face Karen, trying to speak.


The four spraying sneezes caught Karen half in the face and half on her blouse. Cherie’s eyes and nose were streaming and her face was an unhealthy red. She wheezed slightly with each gasping breath.

“Alright, let’s go,” she managed.

Karen passed her back the damp hanky and seized her free hand. They rapidly headed back out of the clearing, Cherie cleaning various fluids from her face and wiping her nose. However, they still weren’t far enough away from the pollen.


Cherie partially suppressed another fit in the hanky and blew her nose as they hurried along. After five minutes at this pace, they came to another clearing they had passed through on their way to the wattle-infested area. Two benches and a picnic table, all fashioned out of radiata pine filled the space. They both sat down.

“Oh wow,” said Cherie blowing her nose yet again. She was already starting to recover, her breathing clearer.

“Can you believe what just happened to me?” she asked. “You sure picked a good spot, babe.”

“Are you going to be alright?” Karen asked anxiously, still clasping her lover’s hand.

“I’ll be fine now that I’m away from that wattle and pollen,”  Cherie answered.

She fixed her reddened eyes with Karen’s clear blue ones.

“God, I’m going to need you  tonight.”

As if on an unseen signal, as had happened countless times before, they suddenly leaned together and began to kiss passionately, Cherie’s hand straying to Karen’s breast. After half a minute, they parted again. Karen drew back and looked at Cherie carefully.

“You sure you’re going to be alright?” she asked anxiously.

Cherie nodded and dabbed at her red nose with the close-to-useless hanky.

“We left some of those tissues on the ground back there,” said Karen. “I should really go back and pick them up. It’ll take me ten minutes, then we can get back to the car. It’ll be tea time soon.”

“Okay,” said Cherie. I’ll just sit here and rest.”

Karen gave the other girl a peck on the cheek, stood and moved off at an athletic jog. The air was becoming chilly and the bush was deathly still, save for the calls of a few birds. It was going to be a cold night. As she loped along, Karen glanced up at the sun which was headed down as the afternoon grew late. Shadows lengthened.

“Sunlight or shadow,” she thought. “Which comes first?”

She knew Cherie well enough to not even consider that her long-legged soul mate had bought her story about picking up some used tissues, but she also knew Cherie was not the type to ask her questions. If Karen had a motive, she always revealed it in due course.

She drew abruptly to a halt. She was back in the “sneezing area”. Four tissues were on the ground. They were already damp from the moisture in the air, so she didn’t bother trying to separate dew from spit and mucus, but merely grabbed them and jammed them into her back pocket. Then, from the other pocket, she took small sachet, not unlike the one in her bag back at the motel room. Going to the biggest of the wattle plants, she rapidly stripped off some flowers, crushing them to get at the powdery spoor. Within two minutes, she had a comfortable mixture of flowers and spoor. She didn’t know if Cherie would say yes to the plan she had for that evening, but most likely she would, especially when she found out what Karen had brought along from home.

She sealed the bag, secreted it back in her pocket and paused to look at the area one last time. It had served it’s purpose and she knew it was unlikely they would ever return. Maybe next spring they would go to an oleander grove, she thought bemusedly.

She glanced up. The sun was definitely saying goodbye to the day.

“Sunlight or shadow?” Karen thought.

After a few moments, she turned and left the clearing without a backward glance, breaking into the steady jog she had used to get there so quickly. 


Three minutes later, she was back in the picnic area. Cherie hadn’t moved.

“Ten minutes,” she observed, glancing at her ladies Rolex. “What were you doing up there? Giving yourself a quickie with the snot in my tissues?”

Karen shrugged.

“I’ve done that today in more comfortable surroundings,” she said.

Cherie chuckled and tucked her hanky back into the pocket of her blouse.

Let’s go,” she said.

Hand in hand, they made good time down the track that they had ascended what seemed like hours ago, although not quite ninety minutes had passed since they had parked the car.

Soon, the car park was in sight, empty save for the silver Mitsubishi Karen had bought out of the massive inheritance her parents unexpected death had left her.

Ten paces from the bitumen, Cherie stopped in her tracks, still holding Karen’s hand.


Doubling over, Cherie released a single large and slimy sneeze. Mucus dangled from her left nostril.

In a flash, Karen pulled the handkerchief from her lover’s blouse pocket and put it to Cherie’s nose. Cherie blew gratefully.

“Oh, thank you,” she said as if nobody had ever done that for her before. “I think my nose was just letting me know who was boss one last time.”

“It sure got a good workout today,”  said Karen, thinking of her plan for this evening.

They stepped onto the bitumen and approached the car. As they did, a new Mercedes with New South Wales plates entered the car park. An elderly couple were ensconced within. The female looked with haughty shock at Cherie and Karen’s linked hands as the car rolled past.

“They’re talking about a senior position for me at work when old man Babbidge retires next year,” said Karen, zapping the doors. “Maybe I should buy a Mercedes to go with the image. It’s not like I can’t afford one.”

“Don’t let money go to your head, babe,” answered Cherie, climbing in and closing her door.

“It doesn’t, it goes to a few other places, though,” said Karen with a wolfish grin.

She put her hand between Cherie’s legs and got a girlish giggle in return. Then, in silence, they both looked up at the bush land they had just been in. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, there could be no more beautiful sight, until the next one was found.

“Sunlight or shadow?” Karen wondered. She still couldn’t decide.

She rolled the motor over and a moment later, they were cruising out of the car park and back to Apollo Bay. 


Within ten minutes, they were rolling back into the motel car park. Karen zapped the doors and they headed quickly for the room. Conversation was minimal as they changed to skirts and high heels. Cherie blew her nose one last time and repaired her makeup, damaged a little from her watering eyes. The years together had taught them sexual self-control. Instead of pouncing on each other the second they were behind closed doors, it was time to eat first, then have fun.

Sifting through the brochures for local eateries, Karen found what she wanted.

“The Apollo Bay Licensed Steakhouse,” she read. “Shall we?”

“As long as it’s got chips and salad, I’m in,”  replied Cherie, combing her thick, luscious hair.

The sun was well and truly down as they left the room and headed on foot to the main  street of the township. It was drawing down dark and most businesses were closing for the day. Cherie and Karen strode along arm in arm, chatting and giggling animatedly. They looked for all the world like a couple of sisters out for the evening.

In contrast to the surrounding businesses, the Apollo Bay Steakhouse had just opened and there were few customers inside. The girls were quickly shown to a table, drawing appreciative glances all round,  which, as usual, they ignored.

They ordered a porterhouse each (with chips and salad) and a bottle of the most expensive red on the wine list.

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Karen remarked blithely when the young waiter had gone, his tongue almost visibly hanging out..

“You found the answer to your question yet?” Cherie asked.

“Sunlight and shadow,” Karen mused. “No I haven’t. I’m not sure there is one.”

Cherie regarded her unblinkingly, waiting.

“What did you  think of our little adventure this afternoon?” asked Karen.

“Adventure? Hell, I’ve never had sneezing fits like that in my life,” Cherie told her.

Karen decided to say something about her plan for the evening, anyway.

“I  haven’t finished with you yet,” she said, the wolfish grin returning.

“More sneezing?” asked Cherie.

Karen nodded.

“My nose will never be the same again,” Cherie moaned, although she knew whatever Karen had planned, it was going to end up in some pretty vibrant lovemaking.

“Your nose will be fine and so will mine after I’ve finished sneezing and given it a good blow,” Karen told her.

Cherie regarded her a moment. Karen blowing her nose was a rarity in itself.

“What are you going to use to…..wait a minute……Julie?”

Again Karen nodded, grinning hugely.

The conversation turned to Julie Thorpes’ work in Canberra, the national capital. The Gay and Lesbian Counselling Service that Cherie worked for had received a massive amount of funding that year, funding that was usually very difficult to get. Both girls were certain that Julie had been behind it, pulling some strings.

Their steaks came, done beautifully, and talk lulled as they ate and drank ravenously.

“Tell me something,” Cherie said, when they finally slowed down. She toyed pensively with her wineglass. “Which female celebrity would you most like to see sneeze?”

“That’s easy,” replied Karen, spearing the cucumbers from her salad. “Kylie Minogue.”.

Cherie nodded sagely.

“Mmmm….Kylie,” she said, doing a poor Homer Simpson impression.

Karen giggled, unable to swallow her cucumber.

“You’re incorrigible,” she said finally.

Cherie drained her wine.

“So am I,” she beamed. 


Karen polished off a large chocolate mousse for dessert while Cherie worked on a mudcake, something too rich even for Karen’s sweet tooth.

“You’ll be wearing that in a few days,” Karen told her.

“I’ll go jogging in the morning,” Cherie said, waving a hand dismissively.

She had never jogged in her life and her weight barely fluctuated, regardless of what she ate. The wine was gone and there was a warm glow in it’s place. Both girls were eyeing each other off with more than a little interest, idly playing footsie under the table. If there were more sneezies to be had in the privacy of their room, why not start preparing?

Cherie went to the counter and passed their waiter a hundred dollar note, inviting him to keep the change which, after the expensive wine, amounted to little more than five dollars. The young man looked like he’d just been blessed by Mother Teresa.

They headed for the exit. By now, the place was over half-full, the noise level much increased. By the take-away counter, they both observed a sleazy looking local about their age, but dressed in dirty jeans and a battered leather jacket, taking a definite interest in their approach.

How many times had this happened? Too many not to know they were about to have to repel the well-worn “Hey, what you ladies doin’ tonight?”  line, or it’s countless derivatives.

As they drew level with the yobbo, it was clear he was going to accost them. Karen put a hand firmly on Cherie’s buttocks. Cherie turned instantly, a hand going to Karen’s breast. Their lips locked in a firm kiss. The man drew back, clearly horrified. The noise level in the restaurant seemed to diminish abruptly as he wasn’t the only one who had seen this act, even though it barely lasted three seconds. It had the desired effect, though.

They swept through the door, Karen rubbing salt into the wound with a backward glance and a chortle of derisive laughter. They disappeared into the night, motel-bound. 


A few minutes later, they were walking up the driveway which was now lit by arc-sodium lights. The mild high they’d had from the wine was quickly wearing off in the chill air. The sea could be heard rolling in the distance. Arms linked, vibrations tingled between them and they both knew there was a wonderful session ahead.

Karen unlocked the door and they slipped inside like phantoms. She locked it firmly behind them, took two steps and flung herself into Cherie’s arms. Their lips locked, tongues tangled and they edged backward toward the bed.

With a giggly shriek, Cherie fell back onto it, Karen on top of her. They continued smooching for several more minutes, both highly aroused, but holding back for the ultimate. Finally, Karen rolled off and sighed contentedly.

“Did I hear you say you’d brought your baby doll nightie?” she asked.

“You did,” replied Cherie gravely.

“Welllll………,” said Karen, drawing the word out. “We can get started once you’ve got that on and a clean hanky.”

Cherie cocked an eyebrow.

“Will you sneeze for me again?” Karen asked softly. “It’s a bit more private and intimate in here.”

“How am I going to induce it?” Cherie asked, then immediately added, “You didn’t go back to that clearing just to pick up some used tissues, did you?”

Karen shook her head.

“I’ve got something here for you and I’ve something for me afterwards,” she said. “So you better make that two hankies.”

The hint that Karen would have sneezies as well galvanised Cherie into action. She sat up abruptly, stood and hurried to the wardrobe. Karen watched the graceful figure with a grin, then stood up herself and began to undress. Within three minutes, Cherie had on the skimpy satin nightie with a monogram of a sleeping angel on the front. Karen was clad only in her underpants which she knew Cherie would take off when she was ready.

Collecting the sachet of raw wattle spoors from her bag, where it had been secreted before they went to eat, Karen put the contents out onto a saucer. Cherie wandered over, brushing her long silky hair.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked, quickly backing away again.

Karen nodded.

“Wattle spoors. It’s what I went back to collect. I wasn’t sure you’d go for it.”

“I’ll go for it, but I’d better come like an express train afterwards,” Cherie told her in a mock growl. She put down the hairbrush and picked up two clean handkerchiefs.

They sat down on the bed, Karen holding the saucer with its volatile contents.

“When you’re ready,” she said softly, “I want the first fit right in my face. I need to feel your warm, wet saliva again.”

She spoke as though Cherie had never done this before today.

“I’ll do that for you,” Cherie said very quietly. Her voice became an almost hypnotic murmur.

“You love watching me use my hanky……for blowing…….for sneezing……for spitting……you get off on it, don’t you, you naughty girl?”

Karen nodded wordlessly, then cocked an eyebrow in question. Cherie gave a barely perceptible nod in return. Deftly, Karen lifted the saucer to her lover’s nose. Cherie inhaled deeply, then jerked her head away, already beginning to gasp.

“Ohhhh…..tickleicious,” she managed. Karen quickly pulled the saucer away out of the line of fire.

Cherie turned, bringing her right leg up underneath her and her face some ten inches from Karen’s.


Karen’s face was instantly bathed in the special “magic fluid” as Cherie’s sinuses took her over for the second time that day.

“More,” Cherie gasped.

The saucer was instantly under her nose again, the allergen doing it’s work as Cherie opened one of the handkerchiefs.


Though muffled in the hanky, the second block was bigger and wetter, Cherie struggling to retain her coveted spit in the cloth. Her eyes watered and itched. This was powerful stuff. She wiped at her lips, then her runny nose, but did not blow it.

As she had that afternoon, Karen sat wide-eyed and aroused as she clutched the saucer.

“Whoo,” said Cherie, snuffily. “More babe.”

A third inhale. This time Cherie cupped both hands over her mouth and nose. Something else Karen also loved to see.


Quick as a flash, she raised her wet palms and wiped them against Karen’s face. The crotch of Karen’s underpants was now visibly damp. Cherie’s eyes teared and her nose ran freely. To an outside observer, the sight would have looked the most bizarre in the world, but the two young women doing it were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Cherie moved even closer to Karen and put an arm around her shoulders. As she took a breath, Karen heard a barely perceptible wheeze, just like the one she had heard in the wattle patch that afternoon

Cherie gestured again for the saucer and Karen raised it a fourth time.


From her position, Cherie was able to aim directly down onto Karen’s perfect breasts. Karen felt her lover’s body convulse with each sneeze as her boobs were sprayed liberally.

Seven minutes and four sneezing fits. Cherie’s face was reddening, smeared with saliva, mucus and tears. She wiped at it with her hanky and drew a shuddering snuffly breath. This time, the wheeze in her chest was clearly audible.

“That’s it,” said Karen. “You’re wheezing again. It’s over.”

For answer, Cherie raised two fingers of each hand to her nose and gave a short, sharp blow. Karen knew what was coming and was not disappointed as two pairs of mucus-covered fingers danced momentarily on her nipples. Cherie’s own nipples were clearly visible through her nightie, her breasts and pussy tingling wildly.

She bent to Karen’s left nipple, her tongue moving busily, lapping at the sticky fluid.

“Just one more fit, sweetie,” she murmured against the breast. “A good sinus clearer”.

She sat up and swiped at her eyes and nose with the hanky that lay in her lap. Both of them were breathing hard for different reasons. Cherie coughed into the hanky and wiped her nose again.

“One more, Karen. Please,” she repeated.

Reluctantly, Karen raised the saucer. Cherie brought her head down to meet it, inhaling through her clogged nose. For a moment, it seemed like it would not work. Perhaps her nose had had enough. Then…..


The sneezes, seemingly the most powerful of the day, took on a raspberry-like sound as her furious nose reacted. This time, Cherie didn’t cover or share, her head convulsing downwards to spray copiously in her lap. Mucus hung in a long strand from her left nostril, then dropped onto her leg.

“I’b godda...IIIISSSHHH!!…..IIISSSSHH!!”

Again, she sprayed over her bare legs.

At long last, she used the hanky, blowing gluggily three times before pausing to check her breathing.

“Think I overdid it,” she managed and blew again. She hawked up a large wad of phlegm in her mouth and spat it into the hanky. Reluctantly, Karen stood and went to the door with the saucer of wattle spoors. Unlocking it, she threw the allergens into the night with a flick of the wrist. They were carried away on the light breeze that had sprung up. Closing the door again, she hurried over to her bag and retrieved the second sachet containing the crushed oleander leaves.

Cherie was still cleaning herself up, blowing her nose and dabbing at her red eyes. Despite her intense discomfort, she was still highly aroused and hoped Karen’s contribution would take no longer than hers which had been a bare ten minutes.

Karen returned with the refilled saucer and resumed her position on the bed.

“Are you okay now, honeybunny?” she asked worriedly.

Cherie nodded.

“I am now,” she said. “Take those spoors away and I’m fine again in five minutes. Today’s been too sneezy for me even. That wattle’s powerful stuff.”

“Well, that’s gone, but now I’ve got this,” Karen told her with a wicked smile.

“Let’s do it,” said Cherie, taking the saucer. She put the second hanky within reach and held the saucer under Karen’s eager nose. Karen inhaled the sharp odour of the oleander almost as deeply as Cherie had done to the wattle. For a moment, she didn’t think anything would happen, then….”Atchoo….choo…..choo…..choo…”

Her nostrils flared at this unannounced disturbance. She put a finger under them and drew in a breath through her mouth.

“Hell’s teeth,” she said. “That’s potent stuff too. How did Julie ever stand it?”

“Julie’s sneeze was as big as mine,” Cherie remembered, thinking of the obvious attraction between Karen and Julie that afternoon some years before.

She dragged herself back to the present.

“Would you sneeze in my hand?” she asked.

“Yeah, but you won’t feel anything except my breath,”  Karen told her, one eyebrow strategically cocked.

“I know, but it’s a good feeling,”  Cherie insisted.

Karen grinned and bent to inhale the oleander again. This time the tickle came more readily and Cherie lowered the saucer, replacing it with her hand which she clamped gently across Karen’s nose and mouth.


Cherie felt tiny puffs of breath against her palm and her lover’s body convulsing with each sneeze. Just as Karen had felt for her earlier.

It had always mildly annoyed Karen that her sneezes weren’t bigger, although the feeling of release was always pleasant. She picked up the hanky and dabbed at  her eyes.

“Wow,” she said. “I’ve never been as resilient as you when it comes to inducing.”

“Well at least you can induce,” answered Cherie. “Do you think your nose will run?”

For Karen to get a runny nose was a rarity.

“Both sides are a bit wet,” Karen said, rubbing the organ in question. “One more hit should do it.”

Cherie raised the saucer a third time. Karen inhaled deeply, then pulled away. She rubbed her itchy nose, made facial contortions and sniffed repeatedly. Cherie realised she was trying to aggravate her nose further by holding back the impending sneezes.

“Baby, don’t, you’ll hurt your sinuses,” she said urgently.

“Gotta bake by dose rud,” said Karen, almost cheerfully. She bent to inhale again. When she lifted her head, Cherie saw her eyes tearing and glistening mucus in each nostril. Karen flexed her nose again, still trying to hold back the tickle. Too late. Abruptly, she lost control.


That was the hardest Karen had ever sneezed in her twenty five years. For a moment, they were both quite awestruck. Then…..

“Oh, by dose,” she gasped. “What have I dud to id?”

She grabbed up the hanky, opened it and blew one handed.

“Let’s have a look. Get anything?”

Karen opened the hanky again and they both looked at the small patch of mucus glistening on the cloth. Cherie reached out and touched it’s warm stickiness.

“There’s not a lot up there, hon,” she said sorrowfully.

“Never has been. You can testify to that,” Karen quipped.

Cherie glanced at the saucer of oleander.

“Do you want to sneeze again?” she asked.

Karen closed the hanky and dabbed at her nose with it.

“No,” she said. “I want to make love.”

That did it. Cherie was up like a shot. She crossed to the kitchenette, put the saucer of oleander on the sink and was back in a trice. Melting together, they kissed hungrily. Cherie began to peel down Karen’s underpants with one hand, the other still around the girl’s waist, lips and tongues still intertwining. Finally, they dropped and Karen stepped out of them, not breaking the kiss. She pushed against Cherie and they both fell back on the bed, Karen on top, revelling in the feel of Cherie’s nightie against her bare skin.

Finally, the kiss broke.

“Pussy,” gasped Cherie.

At once, Karen moved down and buried her head between Cherie’s legs. Parting the little folds that she was so familiar with, she inserted her tongue. Cherie gave a little squeak, then stroked Karen’s hair as she enjoyed the pleasures being given her from down below.

Karen gave it thirty seconds, already hearing Cherie’s heavy panting begin to quicken. Then, she went for the clitoris. Cherie’s panting intensified, joined by little ecstatic cries as she got ready. Then she was there, coming hard and convulsively in a long rush, the pleasures of the day and night all culminating.

“Oh Karen…..darling….oh……oh……oh…..coming…..ohhhh….!!”

With a long drawn-out sigh, she began to descend. Karen slowed her licking, face stained with Cherie’s juices.

There was silence for a few moments.

“Geez, that was a quick trip,” Cherie deadpanned.

Karen giggled, sprang off the bed and grabbed the tissue box. Taking half a dozen, she wiped her face, then began cleaning the saliva and vaginal juices from between Cherie’s legs.

“Mmmmmm…..thank you…..,” Cherie murmured, still floating around on the plateau stage.

“When you’re finished, hop up here and put your little bottom in my face.”

Karen knew instantly what Cherie had in store for her on this special occasion. Throwing away the tissues, she climbed on, manoeuvring herself into position. At once, she felt her cheeks being parted and, at the same time, two fingers of Cherie’s left hand, the remainder holding the right cheek, sliding inside her pussy.

Karen was in heaven, shivers running up and down her spine, everything tingling. The girls had made love in countless positions and Cherie had spent a long time perfecting this one, synchronising her fingers and tongue to give Karen maximum pleasure.

Now, as this pleasure intensified, Karen’s thoughts returned to several hours earlier in the bush.

The images of Cherie sneezing helplessly, but joyfully, amongst the wattle plants, floated through her mind’s eye. The thought of that lovely white handkerchief filled with Cherie’s saliva and mucus. That did it. The sensations grew even stronger and she pushed back a little. That was the signal. The licking grew faster and the fingers moved quicker, shifting without warning, to her clitoris.

Karen tried to hold back and may have been able to succeed for several more seconds, but her timing was off and she was forced to surrender to her joyous orgasm as she came hard, her body jerking like there was an electric current running through it.

“Oh…..oh……..ohhhh…..Cherie, my darling….lick me….lick me…..don’t stop….ohhhhh!!!….”

Then she was descending, reflecting belatedly that it was a good thing there was no one in the room next door. Slowly, like she had arthritis, Karen climbed off and lay down next to Cherie.

“Thank you, sweetie, that was beautiful,” she murmured, nuzzling her soulmate’s face.

“Thank you!” answered Cherie, leaning in for the inevitable kisses.

Their limbs twined slowly, in afterplay, love radiating between them. 


Throughout their twelve years together, Cherie and Karen’s relationship always seemed to be subject to unseen signals between them. It was as if by one of these that some fifteen minutes later, they slid apart and sat up simultaneously. Cherie went to the toilet while Karen pulled back the quilt, cleaned the used tissues and put her underpants in her overnight bag, not intending to use them again. Stark naked, she padded to the door and threw the oleander out into the night, in the same direction as she had the wattle spoors. Cherie returned and hopped into the bed.

Karen used the toilet also, glanced around the room, then got into bed beside Cherie. Even though it was a king-size, and would comfortably hold four, they scooted together in the middle, cuddling up companionably.

“Another strange day,” Karen observed softly.

“We’ve had a few of them over the years,” murmured Cherie.

“Is your nose sore, hon?” Karen asked.

“Yes, come to think of it.”

“Eyes itchy?”

“They feel red.”

“Pussy satisfied?”


“Love me?”

“You bet.”

This last was almost inaudible and silence fell. There was the noise of a car arriving in the forecourt outside, footsteps and voices as other guests found their rooms.

“Who would have thought you and I would have come this far and done all the things we have over the years?” Karen asked.

Cherie did not reply and after a moment, Karen twisted her head to look at her. Cherie’s breathing had slowed and her eyes were shut to the outside world as she slept. Karen grinned, reached up and turned out the coachman-style lamp over the bed.

For a motel room, it was surprisingly dark. Karen closed her eyes and nestled even closer to the girl of her dreams. 

At around 3.30, Karen awoke from a deep sleep. Her bladder was full and her mouth tasted strange from the wine and rich food. She disentangled herself from the still-sleeping Cherie, got out of bed and padded to the toilet. Her nose was sore, also, she noted, from the extra-hard sneezing it had done that night.

Her bladder successfully drained, she drank deeply from the tap, belched contentedly and looked out of the window. The back of the motel was not lit and all she could see was the night sky above.

“Sunlight and shadow,” she thought. “There’s no real answer. They don’t come first or last. They just follow each other. God, I’m a dork.”

She returned to bed, cuddled into Cherie and was quickly asleep again. 

When she next woke, it was nearly eight o’clock and Cherie was propped on one elbow, wide awake and watching her.

“Good morning snookums,” she purred.

“Good morning lambchop,” beamed Karen sleepily.

“You’ve been down deep,” Cherie told her. “I wasn’t sure you were breathing at first.”

Karen shuddered.

“Not breathing could ruin the whole day,” she said.

Her mouth opened in a yawn and Cherie slipped a hand over it, feeling Karen’s hot breath. The yawn became a double and Karen put every effort into it. Finally, her mouth closed and she sank back onto the pillow.

“When’s breakfast?” Cherie demanded, her culinary appetite beaten only by her sexual one.

Karen glanced at the clock.

“I ordered it for eight, so any minute now if they’re on time,” she answered.

Cherie was about to reply when a strange, but oh-so-familiar look came over her face. She raised her hand in a vain attempt to cover, but it was too late.

“HATISSHOO!” she sneezed, a light spray hitting  the sheet.

Karen quickly reached out her own hand, but Cherie shook her head.

“It’s just the one,” she said. “Last of the wattle fumes still up there, no doubt.”

She rubbed her nose reflectively.

“You’d think it wouldn’t have to sneeze for a fortnight after yesterday’s effort,” she considered.

Then she observed her little soulmate with her familiar lecherous leer.

“Would you like to…..?”

“I’d love to,” said Karen and promptly pulled her down in an embrace pussy already moistening with anticipation.

“Oh Karen.”

“Oh Cherie.”

There was a brisk knock at the door.

“Oh bugger,” they said in unison and began to giggle.

“Right, I’ll let the breakfast in,” Cherie enthused, leaping from the bed.

She opened the door to a plain, middle-aged woman who gave a start at seeing such a gorgeous female in a baby doll nightie. The woman muttered a quick “good morning” without making eye contact, before handing Cherie the breakfast tray and hurrying off down the walkway.

“Sure are friendly folk here,” Cherie allowed, closing the door with her foot. She returned to bed and they began ripping into the bacon and eggs, toast and coffee, that Karen had ordered before they went to tea the previous night.

“Going shopping before we head home?” Cherie asked as they ate.

“Now that’s a silly question,” Karen answered. “Gotta get some T-shirts.”

Wherever they stayed outside of Melbourne on their weekend jaunts, Karen always bought T-shirts, tea towels and assorted touristy stuff. After breakfast, Cherie put the tray outside the door and hopped back into bed.

“Now, where were we……?” she queried.

This time, she pulled Karen down and the two of them nuzzled intensely. Pausing only to remove her nightie, Cherie gave attention to both Karen’s upper and lower lips. Soon, they were making love again, although more relaxed than last night. Giggling, whispering and changing positions regularly, they finally both came, the tidal wave of pleasure rolling effortlessly yet again.

Lying spent, in the tangled bedclothes, Karen reflected on the past 24 hours.

“Walking, sneezing, good food, good wine, good sex, offending the locals,” she listed. “We sure know how to go about it.”

“Practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” agreed Cherie. 


By ten o clock, they had both showered and dressed. Bags were installed in the car and Karen went across and paid the breakfast bill. The woman who had come to the door earlier was behind the counter and Karen tipped her to be the old man’s daughter. Conversation was minimal and Karen was quickly in the passenger seat of the car, Cherie turning towards the main shopping area, adjacent to where they’d been last night.

Momentarily, they were parked and out of the car again.

“That’s the place we want,” said Karen, pointing to a souvenir shop a few doors away. She breezed along, Cherie following in her wake.

Inside the shop were all manner of items from boomerangs to caps, sports apparel to footballs-and the ever-popular T-shirts and tea towels. All were monogrammed for one specific purpose- to remind the mug tourist that they had visited Apollo Bay, Victoria, adjacent to the Great Ocean Road, thank you for coming and spending lots of money.

The counter was attended by a very pretty, slightly built girl who couldn’t have been more than nineteen. With their natural observation for such things, both Cherie and Karen immediately noticed that this girl was not having a good spring. Her nose was red and she looked congested. However, there was genuine warmth in the smile that greeted her customers.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m by myself here, so just whistle if you want me.”

“Will you come then?” Karen asked brightly. “I mean just come, not have an orgasm.”

Both her and the girl burst into giggles. Cherie went red. This coastal air was certainly having an effect on Karen. She was never this familiar with strangers.

The girl hefted a cardboard box full of stock from a nearby trolley and zipped away down an aisle. Cherie and Karen went down another and Karen quickly found what she was looking for, exclaiming  delightedly over the different designs

“You haven’t worn a third of the T-shirts you bought on our last two trips,” Cherie bemoaned.

“Summer’s comin’, babe. I’ll have a different one for each day.”

We’ve got more tea towels now than we have dishes.”

“Must go dish shopping then,” Karen beamed.

Soon, she had a nice little pile, including a cap for them both. They headed back to the counter. As they approached, a strange and wondrous sight greeted their eyes and ears.


The cheerful teenager had returned to the counter, but was clutching a white tissue to her mouth and nose, sneezing lightly, but wetly, into it. She blew her nose and tuned towards them.

“Oh dear, excuse me,” she said. “My hay fever is such a bother at this time of year.”

“Oh I know just what you mean,” said Karen. “My friend here couldn’t stop sneezing yesterday. There’s so many allergens in the air.”

She made a show of looking at the girl’s nametag.

“Are you taking anything for your hay fever……Jenny?”

Jenny looked crestfallen.

“No. I can’t afford to buy medicines. I don’t make much here on junior wages and my parents don’t care. They’re too busy organising the town council.”

A bell went off in Karen’s mind and she looked visibly shocked.

“That’s a disgrace,” she said. “Putting your own selfish interests ahead of your daughter.”

Her purchases came to some $67. Karen passed her a hundred dollar note.

“Why don’t you keep the change?” she invited. “Buy yourself a nice lunch to take your mind off you sneezies and sniffles.”

Jenny looked astounded.

“But I can’t….” she began.

“Yes you can,” Karen said firmly. “A thirty three dollar tip is nothing to me.”

She picked up the two bags Jenny had packed.

“You should ask your doctor to refer you to an allergy specialist as well,” she went on. “Find out exactly what you’re allergic to and how to treat it.”

Jenny finally found her voice.

“You’re not a real live angel, are you?” she asked cheekily.

“No, I’m the girl your mother never warned you about,” Karen deadpanned.

They both burst into giggle again, Jenny finishing with a discreet sniff. Karen turned to go, looping her arm through Cherie’s.

“Have a not-so-sneezy day, hon,” she said with a smile.

Jenny looked like she’d just been blessed by Mother Teresa, same as the waiter last night.

“Hey, you guys too,” she beamed. “And thanks.” 


They left the store and walked quickly towards the car.

Why did  you  do that?” asked Cherie, suspecting the answer anyway.

“Easy. She reminded me of myself,” replied Karen.

She came to an abrupt halt.

“Here. Can you put these in the car? I’ll be five minutes.”

She handed the bags to a bemused Cherie, gave her waist a quick squeeze and hurried across the road to a chemist shop. Cherie noted this before continuing to the car. She realised what Karen was about to do and couldn’t help but feel that her little lover was way too caring  to be a corporate paralegal.

Karen breezed back into the souvenir shop. Jenny was at the counter, wiping her nose on a tissue. There were several customers there, but they were out of earshot. Karen was at the counter in a trice, looking determined. Before Jenny could speak, she pushed across a small parcel she had been carrying.

“Jenny, I’ve bought you some Zyrtec tablets to calm your sneezing and runny nose. They’re non-drowsy, but only temporary. See your doctor, see the allergy specialist.”

Jenny’s cheerful demeanour was now only one of confusion.

“Miss, why have you done all this for me?” she asked. “That thirty three dollar tip and all?”

She stared at the parcel of Zyrtec as though it were a plutonium-fuelled bomb.

“It’s not Miss, honey, it’s Karen. And Nurse Karen directs you to take your medicine.”

She reached out and gave Jenny’s hand a gentle squeeze

“Be well, sweetie,” she said. She turned, zipped through the door again and was gone. 

Cherie was leaning against the car, reading the paper, as Karen approached. In one movement, she folded it and hopped behind the wheel. Karen climbed into the passenger seat and pulled her belt on.

“You do what I think you did?” asked Cherie, rolling over the motor.

“Yep. She didn’t understand why I did it, either,” replied Karen. “I hope she sees the specialist.”

Cherie paused to give way to an oncoming car, then turned right towards the highway that would take them along the Great Ocean Road and back down to Melbourne.

“You should have been a nurse,” she said.

“Yeah, a nurse with a sneeze fetish,” Karen replied. “I could work in the allergy ward.”

Apollo Bay faded behind them and Karen put Deep Forest into the CD player. 


Back in the souvenir shop, Jenny finished with the last crop of customers and opened the box of Zyrtec. Inside were two-dozen capsules-and a neatly folded hundred dollar bill. She looked out of the plate-glass window that fronted the shop. The gorgeous angel called Karen was long gone. She had hopped into a waiting car with her not-very-talkative friend.

What a very strange morning it had been. Abruptly a sneezing fit came upon her. Unable to grab a tissue in time, she covered her mouth with her palm.


Finally reaching for a tissue, she dabbed saliva off her palm and blew her nose. Checking that there were no fresh customers requiring her attention, she got two of the tablets from their wrapping and headed for the employees room to get a glass of water. 


The car cruised along, the African chants of Deep Forest emanating from the speakers.

“Well, did you figure out which came first? Sunlight or shadow?”

Cherie spoke without taking her eyes off the road, even though there was no traffic in front of them.

“Nope,” replied Karen. “There’s no answer to that one. They just follow each other in an endless loop.”

Cherie nodded wisely.

“Thought so,” she said.

“Hmmmm…..well you can laugh. It’s your turn to cook tonight,” Karen told her.

She waited a beat.

“So, I guess we better send out for pizza.”

Cherie wasn’t noted for her cooking skills. The object of her good-natured scorn turned and poked her tongue out.

“Yes, I’ll use that tongue later, thanks,” said Karen.

Cherie giggled.

Deep Forest chanted.

Minutes passed. They were nearly halfway back to Melbourne. Cherie took her left hand off the wheel and reached out for Karen’s right.

“I just love you so much,” she said.

Karen squeezed the hand and looked at Cherie, suddenly going  misty-eyed.

“I love you back-always,” she said, just above the sound of the music.

They cruised on down towards the city.

Life surely was grand.