I Got Sick and it Made Him Hot

My boyfriend Jake and I were taking our first vacation together, and one night we had drunk an insane amount of wine at a cheap and cosy little bar in the city. When midnight rolled around we were pretty hammered and decided to take a taxi back to our hotel. I started to feel a little nauseous during the car ride but held it together by opening the window and steadily inhaling a fresh stream of air. The feeling seemed to pass when we got out of the taxi and then made our way up to the hotel room.

On the way into the room I tottered unsteadily on my heels, swaying. Jake held me steady and gently backed me up against the door, kissing me fervently. But I had to break away from kissing as a fresh wave of nausea washed over me.

"Are you okay?" he said, looking concerned.

I could feel the color draining from my face as my stomach flipped. "I think... I think I just need a glass of water," I said, trying to smile.

He fetched me a glass of water and I sipped it slowly, trying to calm the churning in my stomach. But it was just getting worse.

"You really don't look so good," he said. "Are you going to puke?"

"No, I hate puking, I haven't puked for years. I'll be fine," I managed to say, but the unease in my stomach was growing and I could feel a sense of growing urgency to get to the bathroom, and fast. Suddenly my stomach lurched and I pressed my hand against my mouth with a groan.

"Come on, let's get you to the bathroom," Jake said, and I put up little resistance as he guided me quickly to the bathroom and opened the toilet. He helped me to kneel down, took off my high heels and gathered up my hair behind my head.

"I don't want to throw up in front of you. It's so embarrassing," I moaned. But my mouth was filling up with salty saliva and I felt like I was about to start heaving uncontrollably.

"It's okay," said Jake soothingly. "Everyone has to throw up sometimes. You drank too much and you need to get rid of it. You're gonna feel so much better afterwards. Come on, you can do it."

I stared into the toilet and gagged, but nothing came out except my acrid saliva which fell out of my mouth in a thin stream. I spat and coughed, then I retched several times in a row which brought tears to my eyes and expelled some gas but nothing else.

"Help me," I gasped desperately when I could finally catch my breath. "It won't come out. I feel so sick. I just want it to be over."

"You want me to gag you with my fingers?" he checked.

"Yeah. Please," I nodded.

"Okay. This is going to feel weird at first but you're gonna feel so much better after you get it all up. I'm gonna put my fingers into your throat and it will make you gag. It might take a minute but finally you'll start to puke. I want you to keep puking until you've got everything up so that you can feel better. Is that okay?"

"Yes," I moaned.

He slipped two long fingers into my wet open mouth and slid them all the way up my tongue into the back of my throat. I struggled and automatically tried to bite down on his fingers but he kept them in place, firmly pushing down on the back of my tongue.

"Stop fighting it and let your body do the work," he murmured.

Once he found the spot it was like releasing a pressure valve. After a few gags I started to heave forcefully and the contents of my stomach started to rise. Then I puked all over his hand before he could pull it away.

Once I'd got started I kept heaving and heaving, bringing up the excessive amount of alcohol I'd drunk. My vomit splashed into the toilet in copious waves, splattering around the bowl.

Then there was a pause in the vomiting and I panted for breath, my eyes half-closed.

"I don't think that's everything you've got," said Jake. "I need you to completely empty your stomach for me, otherwise you won't feel better. Look at that disgusting mess you've made. Really look at it, and tell me you don't still feel sick."

I opened my eyes and looked at the mess of red wine-colored liquid. There were chunks of my half-digested dinner floating in it, and splashes of vomit had splattered all around the toilet bowl. Worse, I started to notice the sour stench of stomach acid that was filling the room.

Without warning I heaved several more times, bringing up the rest of my stomach contents until there was nothing left. The last heave produced nothing but saliva. I spat it out and sat catching my breath and trying not to look at the mess I'd created. I felt drained and empty, but a rush of relief washed over me and I realised I also felt euphoric.

"How do you feel now?" Jake said.

"You were right, I do feel better. But I feel kind of... horny?" I said, confused, as I noticed that my panties were soaking wet.

"I always feel horny after puking," he grinned. "But for some reason I feel horny after watching you puke as well. I don't know why. But oh my God, I really fucking want you now. Take a shower then come get in bed with me."

"I... I didn't know you liked that," I said, starting to laugh.

"I think I didn't know either," he laughed. "But I think we're gonna have a lot of fun, you and me."