The Benefits of Heatstroke

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Rusty reached the turnoff to the Lake mid-afternoon. He was glad he had taken the afternoon off; traffic leaving the city after five on a Friday evening would have been bumper to bumper and he didn’t relish the idea of arriving at the Lake after dark.

The bible camp where Rusty parked his car was usually buzzing with activity: kids swimming at the beach; parents preparing barbecues for the evening meal; and the Preacher was often giving a sermon in his outdoor church, but there wasn’t a soul around.

Rusty turned off the engine and leaned back and closed his eyes. It was a long drive and he was enjoying the unexpected peace and quiet.

His solitude was soon shattered.

“Doctor…doctor! May I please ask for your assistance.”

The Preacher came running up to his car.

“There is an urgent medical matter.”

Rusty instinctively grabbed his medical bag from the backseat.

“What happened? Did someone have an accident?”

“Not exactly.”

They entered a cabin not far from where Rusty had parked his car.

A man who looked to be in his mid-thirties was lying on a cot; he looked like a freshly cooked lobster. The rest of the campers were standing around his bed showing genuine concern but nobody had a clue what to do.

“Well, this is Mr. Carmichael. He’s a bit of a health nut. Late morning, he decided to go for a run; that was about 11:30. Can’t say how far, but I saw him again in mid-afternoon, about 20 minutes ago, lying in one of our beach chairs. He got up and started staggering back to his cabin. At first, I thought he was drunk,” the Preacher chuckled. “But we don’t allow alcohol at our camp.”

Rusty placed his hand on Mr. Carmichael’s shoulder. He winced at the pain.

“He’s burning up and his skin is very dry. It looks like heatstroke. How’s your stomach?”

“I feel like throwing up but I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“Better keep it that way. Are you here alone Mr. Carmichael?”

A woman standing next to the cot said, “No, I’m his wife.”

Without looking up, Rusty said, “Alright, you can stay. Everyone else should clear out and get on with your business.

“Is he going to be alright doctor? Will he have to go to the hospital?”

“If we don’t do something now he might not make it to the hospital.”

Rusty looked up at the Preacher.

“Could you get a bucket of water from the Lake and a sponge or cloth or something.

We need to cool him down. Keep him wet.”

Rusty pulled a bottle out of his medical bag.

“Once he cools down, put this Calamine lotion on the red areas. That’ll help his sunburn.”

After a few minutes the Preacher returned with a bucket of water and a small towel.

“We don’t have a sponge, will this do?”

“Yes, that’ll be fine. Do you have any portable fans in the camp?”

Without a word the Preacher hurried out the door.

“So, Mr. Carmichael, how’s your head. Any dizziness…slurred speech?”

“My speech is fine. I was feeling pretty dizzy earlier but I’m OK now?”

“Mrs. Carmichael, keep his upper body wet, especially his back and shoulders. If the Preacher can find any fans, turn them on high. They’ll help with evaporation; he’ll cool down faster that way.”

The Preacher returned with two tabletop fans.

“Will these work?”

“Yes, they’re perfect.”

Mrs. Carmichael, I have a cabin on that island over there. It’s only ten minutes by canoe. I’ll stop by tomorrow morning to see how he’s doing.”

“Doctor, you don’t have to.”

Rusty finally looked up to address Mrs. Carmichael. She was tall with raven black hair flowing past her shoulders and stopping at the small of her back; and she had the body of a high school volleyball player. Rusty was taken aback by her beauty.

“It’s…ah…it’s…no problem. I have to run some errands on the mainland anyway.”

The Preacher was grateful that Mr. Carmichael was going to be alright but more so that he didn’t have to drive 15 mile to the hospital and wait possibly for hours with all the other patients suffering from heatstroke and sunburn.

Before Rusty could reach his car, Mrs. Carmichael called out.

“Doctor! Thank you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug that stirred some movement in his groins. She felt it but she didn’t shy away. In fact, she pressed her body closer to his and she seemed to enjoy the embrace.

That night, back at the cabin, Rusty made love to his wife with a passion that she had not experienced in a very long time. Unfortunately, the passion was directed elsewhere.

The following morning Rusty paddled his canoe across to the mainland to check on his patient. He would have preferred to stay at his cabin and drink coffee on his deck, enjoying the peace and quiet of the morning but he felt not following up with Mr. Carmichael would be a dereliction of his duty even though he was not officially his patient and, of course, he didn’t want to miss the opportunity of seeing Mrs. Carmichael again.

Rusty knocked on the cabin door; Mrs. Carmichael answered.

“Good morning doctor.”

“Please, call me Rusty.”

“Rusty?”

“Yes, I know. It’s a nickname I got in the army.”

“I see. I’m Anna.”

“How’s you husband feeling?”

“Much better thank you. I’m afraid you’ve come all this way for nothing. My husband had to go back to the city to take care of some business; he left about twenty minutes ago.”

“Well, I’m just glad he’s feeling better.”

“Would you like to come in for coffee? That’s the least I could offer you.”

“Yes, thank you. That would be nice.”

The cabin wasn’t more than a prefab box with yellow siding. The Home Depot manager said this was not a very popular color and he could give the Preacher a good deal. The Preacher was always looking for a bargain so he snapped it up for a 50% discount, not really caring how the yellow would blend in with the summer foliage.

The inside of the cabin was more rustic: the walls were rough and unfinished; a small window over the sink let in some natural light but not much. A single cot lined one wall and in the opposite corner a small table and two chairs. The two chairs gave the impression the cabin was designed for two people but sharing a meal at the table would have been challenging.

A fresh pot of coffee was on a hotplate next to the sink. Anna poured two cups.

“Is this your first time at the bible camp Anna?”

“No, we come here almost every weekend in summer.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t really look like the religious type.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, for starters, you were the only one wearing a bikini yesterday. All the other wives looked like nineteenth century school teachers.”

Anna chuckled.

“Very observant. You’re right. My husband’s the religious one. He’s been part of the Preacher’s congregation for a long time, since before we were married. My husband likes the nature and the sermons; I like the beach.

As you noticed, I don’t dress like a nineteenth century school teacher, so I’m not really missed at church.”

Anna’s coffee was good and Rusty didn’t waste a drop.

“Ah Rusty, I know it’s a bit early but could I offer you something a bit stronger?”

Anna reached into her suitcase and pulled out a bottle of whisky.

“I didn’t think the preacher allowed alcohol at the camp.”

“He doesn’t, but fortunately he doesn’t have a baggage check when you enter the property. It’s all on the honor system. I’m sure I’m not the only one to have smuggled in a bottle or two past the gates. Some of those nineteenth century school teachers, as you call them, looked a bit tipsy as they were standing around with their thumbs up their butts, not knowing what to do for my husband.”

Anna poured a generous helping of whisky into Rusty’s coffee mug and then into hers.

“Just in case we get a surprise inspection.”

Rusty grinned. “Good idea.”

The whisky was as refreshing as it was intoxicating. They toasted, although the only thing that they were toasting was the fact that they were having a drink together in the late morning. Anna stood by the sink sipping her whisky. Sunlight was filtering through the window above the sink; and although the light was dim, her silk kimono-style robe became almost transparent from the backlighting. It was clear that she was naked underneath.

Photo by shahin khalaji on Unsplash

Anna sat on the cot.

“I’m afraid I’ve ruined your errand run.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I can’t let you drive after you’ve been drinking. That would be irresponsible of me; and it’s too early for you to return to your cabin. You’d be smelling of booze. What would your wife think? You’d better stay here with me for a while. Besides, I’m bored and I don’t want to spend the afternoon by myself.”

Anna lay back on the cot and Rusty did not need any more encouragement. He pulled the sash that held her kimono together. It fell gently away revealing her pussy that was glistening with wetness. He stroked her inner thigh and slowly moved up to her vaginal opening. He played with her outer lips and when he massaged her clitoris she started convulsing with pleasure.

Rusty kissed her belly and then went down on her wet pussy, the sighs were getting louder. Anna grabbed Rusty’s head to guide him but he needed no direction. When his lips met hers she arched her back and moaned softly.

She was getting wetter and wetter until the juices from her orgasm filled his mouth. Rusty swallowed every drop.

When her spasms subsided, she slowly turned over and pulled her knees up to her chest like she was reading Rusty’s mind. He grabbed her hips and thrust into her, then again and again. When he came, he didn’t want this moment to end. With his dick still erect he kept thrusting into her hoping he would have enough juice for a second orgasm. He kept going for as long as he could but the blood started to recede and he became limp.

They both collapsed on the bed totally exhausted.

Rusty and Anna spent most of the afternoon together in that tiny yellow shack. There was little talking during their time; words would have ruined their encounter.

Rusty washed the pussy from his face; he kissed Anna goodbye and left, not realizing he would never see her again.