CHAPTER598
Pleasure overtakes me and the need to play hard and rough disperses as his body takes me. Ecstasy pulsating, warmth and tingles running up and down my legs and abdomen as he hits the right spot over and over. From slow to work up to this, I’m suddenly consumed with wracking waves of muscle loosening amazingness and already on the verge of climax. I’m crazily sensitive and wonder if it’s all connected to being unwell.
It’s fast and hard, reminds me of a long-ago frenzied fuck against his car in what seems like a million years ago. Before I can catch my breath, I cum stupendously on top of him without warning or even much of a build-up and it hits me like a freight train. Crying out and biting his fingers in the process which were trying to shield my mouth and tensing like crazy as it shudders through me in such a good way, limb from limb. Arrick grips me tight, thrusts through my convulsions before he pours himself into me and we both sag against the wall in a pretty unsexy way.
“Fuck, Sophie.” Arrick breathes heavily, his voice low and husky as he tries to untangle us without dropping me. It’s the first time I realize I have on one shoe and my t-shirt is up above my bra with my breasts popped out of the lacey lingerie I put on for him. Exposed obviously while he was grasping at them, sucking my nipples and all the while I was completely oblivious to how naked he managed to get me.
Arrick is top naked from the front as I’ve pushed all his clothes back off his shoulders, unbuttoned and exposed him too, so they hang around his elbows with all that ripe abdomen on show.
I’m sated, fulfilled. And sadly, so very not good once again. The nausea which didn’t exactly go away has only increased with the exertion, and my panting breaths during orgasm have made me hot, flustered, and lightheaded to spectacular levels. I don’t feel right in anyway and it all comes rushing at me way too fast when I try to pull myself upright properly.
Without any signal whatsoever and only half untangled from my fiancée who is trying to pull his pants up without releasing me. I wretch, gag and throw up spectacularly with exorcist style vomiting, right over his shoulder and arm while trying to not aim at his face. Projectile puke, that tastes a lot like wine and beef stroganoff, in some sort of satanic type scene. It keeps coming until I am sure my entire alcohol content is on the sidewalk, creating a river in the dark.
Arrick seems frozen, although in the dark, apart from feeling him move me a little mid puking, I can’t see him to tell how bad it is or how he is even reacting. All I know is that I just threw up on him and now I am so dizzy I flop back against the wall and start to cry.
“I’m sorry.” I blurt through the last mouthful, wiping my hands across my face in a bid to clean it off. He slides me down slowly, hands let me go as my eyes try to adjust to the darkness. All I can see is him pulling off a layer and wiping himself down.
“Baby… You just… Never mind. We will get you home.” He sounds disgusted, shocked. Not that I blame him. Even with limited vision I know I didn’t turn enough not to get him, I don’t know how bad it is, or how much he got covered in. I pull my skirt down and adjust myself the best I can to get myself decent. I can hear him moving away, probably into the light at the end of the alley to see what he’s doing, and I follow very slowly. Like a baby animal learning to walk and hold onto the wall for support.
Arrick comes back after a moment and catches me by the hand. Guiding me gently yet keeps me at a distance in case I do it again probably. He sounds weird and cagey when he speaks.
“Let’s not talk about this … Ever! Let’s get you back home and to bed while I take three showers and burn all my clothes.”
Arrick hands me a glass of water in bed and sits down on the edge to look at me. He seems calmer than when we first got in and practically dumped me in here in a bid to high tail it to the bathroom. My boy is a bit of a germaphobe with certain things and vomit touching him seems to turn him from manly caretaker to cringing nauseated man child.
“Feeling better?” He smiles, looking fresh and clean from the very long shower in which he probably bleached his skin to death. It wasn’t exactly my crowning moment of sexiness, but I have a good boyfriend who didn’t say anything about me ruining his night or making him take his expensive jacket, shirt and pants and put them straight in a black bag as soon as he got in the bathroom.
“Much.” I smile and take a sip, now dressed in one of Arry’s t-shirts.
“I think we should have stayed home and let you fully recover.” He watches me drink a little then takes the glass when I hold it out to him and puts it on my bedside.
“I liked the sex… It was worth it, even if you now hate me.” I grin cheekily.
“It’s out with the jury right now.” Arrick visibly cringes and I can’t suppress the giggle as I imagine him replaying the horrific moment hot wet vomit hit him in the naked shoulder and ran down his arm. I should be mortified, but really, he has endured some crazy shit with me, and this isn’t the worst.
“You’re lame, it was just a little bit of sick.”
“Don’t!” He puts a hand over my mouth immediately and shakes his head, his pallor turning much paler and he looks like he may go straight back to the shower. I swipe his hand away, laughing at him; he is choosing his words carefully and I frown at him.
“Really? You think that’s worse than your cum…” I start but his hand is straight back over my mouth with a look that says stop talking.
“That was one time and you asked me to do it… Won’t be ever doing that again. It seemed wrong and like I didn’t respect you.” He’s referring to our moment of porn re-enactment after a particularly drunken night of kinky sex where he gave his all, over my boobs at my request. I wanted to try it and see what the fuss was about; it was sticky, not good and never again. Arrick looked mortified, that he would shoot his load all over me.
“I guess I was drunker than I thought.” I shrug turning conversation back to the topic to get that guilty look off his face. Arry gets weird about the strangest stuff and cumming on me is one of those things he is very touchy about. I don’t know why, he does it inside me every time we have sex and doesn’t seem to care.
“You know… Janetta… A couple of times, has made a comment here and there in passing lately, about … That maybe you might be…” Arrick becomes evasive, looking a little uncomfortably and it only peaks my nerves. He sort of half laughs and shakes his head as though he is being dumb, but it has all my red alerts lighting up.
“What?” I sound impatient.
“She said your appetite has changed, improved… Your sleeping more and a little bit tetchier with the moods. I have noticed you being more emotional than normal, hormones up and down and well, don’t take this the wrong way baby. Your ass and boobs are definitely a lot bigger this past month.”
“What are you getting at? What’s wrong with my ass? Are you telling me I am eating myself fat?” I almost cry at this, mood spiking and becoming irrationally tearful. In all the years I have known him, he has never ever mentioned my weight in any context.
“NO!” He holds his hands up defensively and at speed. Looking extremely evasive.
“It’s the fact you got drunk crazy easy, threw up a few times today… Maybe we should think about possibilities. Like Janetta suggested.” he looks pale, nervous and I have no fucking clue what he is even talking about.
“What? What are you getting at? When did she suggest anything?” I’m getting agitated with him, defensive over nothing. I don’t even know why.
“Baby? I think we need to get a test.” he tries to reach for me, but I slap his hand away.
“Don’t, baby, me… What do you mean a test? For what? You think I have something wrong with me?”"
