I was horny. More, perhaps, than I'd care to admit at the time. Maybe I was just disguising how much I wanted to have sex by being playful. In any case, I pushed her back into the bed and dry-humped her for a while, both of us laughing, thrusting and (in some cases) wheezing, if one bit went in the wrong place. This is it, I said to myself, this is the indication that we need - I mean NEED - to have sex. Like, now. Right Now.
Then I threw up in my mouth.
Only a little. Enough to remind me that @VixOEN used to have that as a tag on her defunct blog. But it was certain: I'd almost been sick in my own mouth. My thoughts changed to something resembling, Ewwwwwwww! What the fuck?!
Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, continued my brain as I dismounted my confused girlfriend, racing to the bathroom at roughly the speed of Billy Whizz on crack. I vomited violently into the bowl, surprising even myself at how manly the roars of pain and lack of breath (and, of course, embarrassment) sounded. But that was nothing, compared with the sudden and terrifying realisation that I may have developed some sort of sudden allergy to dry-humping my girlfriend.
And if I can't do that, I reasoned while washing my mouth out, then I can't dry-hump her any more! And then how will I manage to indicate to her that we absolutely need to have sex? Ignoring the fact that indicating casually works well enough, I almost - almost - went into a proper panic. What if we can't even have real sex? That didn't bear thinking about. But there was only one way to test this theory...
Half an hour of oral sex seemed to work moderately well. That is to say, I think it did. It's difficult to tell with her thighs clasped around my head and her hand in my hair, but I take that as a good indication of things. And, despite one sneeze (for which I turned my head; I doubt I'd ever get to do oral sex ever again if I'd sneezed into her vagina), I didn't seem to be allergic at all.
I was SO pleased.
After the successive marathon sex lasting so long I have no idea how to indicate a time, I was even more pleased. Of course, my initial plan to have a shower last night didn't happen, but I think lying in a mass of tangled limbs, sweaty bodies and mixed cum may perhaps have been preferable.
Certainly put my mind at ease, anyway.