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The hooves clatter into the cobblestone courtyard and abruptly come to a halt. I know it is you, just as I have hoped and dreamed. I run down the cold slate steps, devoid of my garments, my long, dark auburn hair flowing behind me, so eager to have you lay your hands upon me. Never do I stop to think of the possibility of your bringing your victorious generals home. Leaning all my weight against the heavy oaken door I stand in the cool night air bathed only in the golden torchlight. 

You are alone, still mounted, and you walk your horse slowly around me. Your face is expressionless as you stare down at my shivering breasts, nipples hardening under your delicious scrutiny. Your eyes squint for a moment as you bring your hand up to muffle a sharp "Haaahssshooooo!" 

Your cloak falls about you, rich velvet like a forest green shadow. My breath halts in my throat as the horse's flank comes dangerously close to my tender skin. I almost back away, my sex already wet from your sharp sneeze, but instead I feel your arm catching me and lifting me high into the air to bring me down facing you upon the horse. 

My naked legs close about your waist as I sit facing you. I throw my arms about your neck tightly as the horse's rear hooves plunge; it is racing forward, out of the courtyard and along the road through open farmland. I am jogged up and down, my sex spread wide against the cold brass of your belt buckle, my breasts pressed against your chest, my head tucked beneath your head, resting against your shoulder. My arms snake around your chest, the rest of me under your cloak - I am so very safe in your arms…

"Heeeaaasssshooo! Hitchoooo" you sneeze sharply, almost hoarsely as you turn your head politely to the side. The movement pushes me hard against you and I moan softly.

We ride for what seems like a silent eternity, broken only by your occasional sharp intake of breath before the "Haaasshoooooo" shakes your composure. 

It is maddening to me, my sex against yours, and my bare breasts rubbing your chest, feeling pressing against me as you sneeze again and again. No words are necessary, for what we share in the silence between sneezes means more than any words. You know what you are doing to me with your nearness and your sneezes; it is why you have come. It is the only reason you return home from the battlefront before the treaty is signed.

Finally, I spy lights flickering in a glen ahead, and we ride into the circle of a campfire. A snow-white tent on a raised platform sits at the end of the encampment and I know it to be yours. Sliding from the horse I stand shivering in front of you. As you dismount removing your cloak, you place it about my shoulders and clasp it at my throat. 

Another sharp intake of air prefaces "Haaaaaaishhh, choooo, Hitchoooo, Hashooo," yet I dare not say a word for I know how very much you despise catching cold. I am here witnessing your sneezes for only one reason and I tremble, knowing it is for my pleasure that you allow me to see your loss of control. Taking my hand in yours so strong, you lead me up two steps and hold the flap aside, beckoning me inside its warmth. 

The inside of the tent looks like a sultan's harem room. Silks and fabrics are hung from the ceiling, more like a wisp of a dream than anything I've ever seen. Soft pillows of all imaginable shapes and sizes litter the floor, and I step onto the softest sheepskin rug I have ever felt. 

I am filled with anticipation. A burning desire spreading from between my thighs begins to throb as I watch you close the tent flap, cover your mouth and nose, and stifle another sneeze. 

"Hitmmpff!" You then lay in front of me on your stomach, hands resting on your chin. "Lissa, dance for me," you casually command, voice hoarse from your cold. 

I stare back at you incredulously for a moment, wide eyed and full of wonder at this new game of yours. Then, I begin to dance, pulling the cloak tightly about my frame. I circle the tent, opening the cloak to give you a hint of leg here and a glimpse of breast there. I circle and twirl slowly, my hips undulating the movements of sex. 

"Haaaschooo! Atchooo!" 

You sneeze openly, gazing at my movement. I touch myself, taste my fingers, and bury them again inside me. I'm playing with my nipple with my other hand and you suddenly leap upon me, pinning me to the floor, struggling at the same time with your belt and your trousers. Freeing your erection, you proceed to enter me much more slowly than I was expecting from the passionate look on your face. You stop and pull my head to your neck as you heave air into your lungs and "Haaaishoooo!" sneeze loudly, harshly over my head. You sniffle, annoyed, and I moan softly as your beautiful body grows rigid and your cock is thrusts into me deeply with the power of the sneeze. As aroused as I am, I begin to worry a bit, but you kiss my frown away, saying, 

"Now is the not the time for worry, Little One." It's really more of a seductive grown.

Almost torturously, you slowly push your cock in and then just as slowly pull it out. I attempt to place my feet on the floor, but you shake your head. 

"Wrap your legs around me, Lissa," you command.

I obey and you continue to torture me slowly. Again, I can feel you preparing for a strong sneeze. I can see that your nose is tickling you mercilessly. I can see you fighting, beginning to struggle. 

"Haaah…" you fight for control, only to lose your battle. "Huh uhh haaashooo, hutchoooo, haiisshoo, Htmmmpf." 

The last one, stifled, almost sends me over the top. I am moaning now, begging for you to keep your cock all the way inside me, begging to let me move with you. Faster and harder, you push your cock into my hot wet pussy and finally, when I think I can take no more, you plunge deeply into my sex. You're undulating your torso, sneezing coarsely, wetly, looking right at me, multiples. 

"Haaaaishooo, Haaaaishooo, Htmmmpf!" 

Sneezes explode out of you and I shudder with the intensity of an explosion the like of which I have never experienced before, as I feel you pulse deep within. I cry out your name as I climax again, ripples of pleasure spreading out through every limb of my body. As you press against me, quaking from the force of your own pleasure, we are still for many moments, gently touching, tenderly kissing.

You are warmer than normal and you shiver. Just as I know you have a fever, I know you will allow me to do very little about it. 

I take the initiative, feeding you a white lie. "Milord, I am chilled."

Immediately, you feel my head and my cheeks, which are rosy and warm from pleasure, but it suffices for my purpose and you pile the cushions in the center of the tent and gather the blankets that were rolled to resemble long pillows. 

"Hit chooo! Come- haaaaishoooo! Here, Little One. We- huh, huh htttmpff! Can't have you ill, now, can we?" 

I shake my head, trying not to laugh at you as it is plain as the damp and reddened nose on your face which one of us is ill. My ruse works, and soon we are nestled together amidst the cushions under warm coverlets, you shivering against my naked form, rubbing me in an effort to be certain I am warm enough. 

"Milord, truly I would be warmer if I were to press myself against your back and you to lay upon your side," I lie again, and you raise one brow at my boldness.

"Lissa, I do not think you'll be warmer that way." Your hoarse reply is almost a chuckle that ends with a raspy cough as you gather me closely to your chest. 

I smile, knowing I have been caught in an attempt to take care of the one who'll not allow it. Happy that at least you are under the blankets with me, overjoyed that you have indulged me in my utmost fantasy, I drift off to sleep safe in your strong arms…