Novel coronavirus contact tracing results in pain

At the start off the Covid-19 pandemic in the U. S., I, Jim Young, had been married to my wife Lisa Montrose (her father talked her into keeping her maiden name when we married, and I had no objection) for eleven years and we had two kids, seven and nine years old. I was working in the IT field while Lisa worked in local government in Northern Virginia.

A lot of background isn’t necessary to understand my story although a few titbits about Lisa’s family are significant.


Lisa is very close to her father Winston (who has never liked me), is also close to her mother Crystal who is divorced from her father, and hates her stepmother Karen. Karen is considerably younger than Winston, only about three years older than Lisa and I are, and Lisa thinks that Karen is a gold-digger; deep down inside I think that Lisa doesn’t like Karen because Karen is really good-looking but has a bad self-image (or at least she did have). Surprisingly Crystal and Karen got along much better than Lisa and Karen do; in fact they are friends.

I get along well with both Crystal and Karen, but detest Winston as much as or more than he detests me. I consider Winston an asshole and blowhard and don’t like how he treats either Crystal or Karen, and he dislikes me primarily because I stand up to him and have chastised him to his face for the way that he treats Crystal and Karen. If he could kick my ass he would — but he can’t if for no other reason than I’m twice as strong as he is and he’s no martial arts expert.

Despite the fact that I like Karen I have a problem with her. She’s too goddamn sexy. Everyone has different features of the opposite sex that they’re attracted to; Karen has every one that rings my chimes. I wish that she had a miserable personality so I could write her off, but she is kind and intelligent. I could never figure out how that asshole Winston convinced her to marry him three years ago. Despite my lust for Karen I do believe that I’ve properly hidden it from everyone.

Since most of the IT work I do is for a consulting firm that specializes in helping restaurants and retail establishments, predictably once lock-down orders were issued I was laid off. While our family is fiscally responsible we didn’t have the savings to make it for more than about six months without at least some monetary contribution from me so I started looking for other jobs that would pay decently (though obviously not as much as my IT job) while still allowing me to at least help out with home schooling the kids. It seemed that most of the jobs that became available related to dealing with the pandemic, and the type that appealed to me was contract tracing.

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Contact tracing is part of the process of supporting patients with suspected or confirmed infections. The jobs have long existed for all infectious diseases (particularly STDs) but in view of the Covid-19 pandemic there was now much greater demand. Typically, during the pandemic, a “contact tracer” works with those who test positive for the novel coronavirus to help them recall everyone with whom they have had close contact during the timeframe they may have been infectious. The contact tracer then warns the exposed individuals (contacts) of their potential exposure as rapidly and sensitively as possible without identifying the person who is infectious, and gets the potentially exposed contacts tested for Covid-19. It can help to have an IT background in performing contact tracing since much of the work is done electronically (including utilizing cellphone and social media data), especially for patients who don’t seem to be honest in disclosing everyone they have had close contact with, therefore I was hired within a couple of days of when I applied.

My training for contact tracing was relatively short and expedited because of the need and because I had a good aptitude and background for it, so I started working within two weeks of when I was hired. I found that it was a rewarding job especially when contacts were tested and caught early so that their chances for recovery were enhanced. It was sad to see some contacts or patients die, but since I’m not actually a healthcare worker I didn’t have to experience that pain close-up.


Things went along fairly smoothly for my family for about two months. Lisa said that she still had to go into the office occasionally, and I had to do some field work too, but we were able to do most of our work at home using Skype, Zoom, phone calls, texts, emails, and other forms electronic communications. We staggered our schedules so that 95% of the time at least one of us was home with the kids, and we switched off on home-schooling them, using the resources provided by the school that our kids went to. Often three of us were on our laptops at the same time, and sometimes all four of us.

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The 5% of the time that one of us wasn’t with the kids either Crystal or Karen — both of whom are local and stayed six feet away from the kids — would take over just to have someone at our house in case of an emergency.

Our life was happy, under the pandemic circumstances, especially since Lisa and I were home more often together, and there was something about the situation that made it exciting. “We could pretend that we’re one of only a few couples stranded on Mars and we have to populate the planet,” she giggled one night as she came to bed naked. “I need your big dick in my unprotected womb right now,” she growled.

I knew that she was “protected,” since I saw the bill for his last Depo-Provera shot only two weeks earlier but I played along. “I think that I need to eat your pussy to get it properly warmed up,” I growled, “to be sure that you’re ready to receive my seed.”

After her second orgasm courtesy of my tongue and fingers I mounted her, buried my hog in one push resulting in a long, sustained, groan from her, and proceeded to deposit one of my largest loads ever in her pulsating pussy. She muffled her scream with a pillow and I grunted like a Neanderthal having experienced one of my most intense and long-lasting orgasms ever.

That is our life was as happy as it could be in the pandemic until two days after the epic love-making session described above when I was assigned John Upton as a patient.

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I was dissatisfied with John’s responses when I talked to him over the phone; I could tell that he was holding back. I stressed to him the importance of being straight with me and made arrangements to meet him personally.

When I met John it was outside in a park, spaced seven feet from each other. I didn’t have complete PPE on but did have a virus-killing mask, gloves, a face shield, and a paper smock. He had a mask on too, so I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but I thought that I recognized his eyes. It turned out that he worked in the building next to Lisa’s so I may have seen him in that area.

We talked for a while and I was starting to wear him down to get him to tell-all. The final statement that pushed him over the hump was “If you don’t tell me about someone and later it is found out that they died from Covid-19 when they could have been saved if they were treated earlier it will turn into a police investigation and you could be charged with manslaughter.”

I have no idea whether or not that statement was correct, but I figured that it might be so I had no qualms in telling him that if it got him to open up.

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