“Molly? Are you okay?”
Instead of getting an answer, I hear a tiny little snore and then the deep sounds of her breathing.
As carefully as I can, I scoot myself to the edge of the bed, trying to keep the puke contained to my lap as I contort my body and quickly shuffle to the bathroom to shower. Once I’m cleaned off, I wrap a towel around my waist and strip the covers out from under Molly’s passed out body. I toss them in the corner of the room and grab the extra blanket from the top shelf of the closet, crawling into bed next to her. Turning off the lamp on the bedside table, I unfold the blanket to cover us both. Gently turning her body to the side so I can press myself against her back, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her snugly against me.
Closing my eyes, I nuzzle my nose into her hair and breathe her in. Partially because I love the way she smells, but mostly because it masks the smell of vomit lurking in the air. Maybe I should be freaked out that my first sexual encounter with Molly ended with her puking on my dick, with said dick still in her mouth. I’m sure any other guy would have left her alone in this hotel room and gotten the fuck out of dodge, but I’m not just any guy. I’m a sick fuck and I don’t care if my balls smell like puke for the next couple of days. I don’t even care if my jizz going down her throat was the cause of her upchuck instead of the booze she drank. I’ll let her cough up a hairball on my dick any time, as long as she still wants to put her mouth on it again after tonight.
I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face that my night ended better than I thought it would after Molly’s dad introduced me to his fists.
Who knew vomit balls would trump a black eye and a bloody lip?
Chapter 19
– Poop Sex –
Molly
“Are you even listening to me?” I whisper angrily, peeling back the curtain just enough to make sure mom is still busy talking to the seamstress.
“Molly, I don’t have time to hear the dick puking story again. I have bigger problems right now,” Charlotte complains, huffing and grunting as she tries to suck everything in as hard as she can as I go back to trying to zip her into her wedding dress.
“I threw up all over the first penis I ever put in my mouth!” I whisper-shout angrily, planting my feet wider and tugging on the zipper as hard as I can. “Does that not sound like a huge fucking problem to you?”
It’s been two weeks since the night I became the Incredible Dick Puking Molly, and I’ve tried to get Charlotte to help me since then and she’s brushed me off every time. It’s bad enough I passed out right after it happened and Marco had to clean up my puke by himself. It’s even worse that I woke up the next morning feeling like I’d been run over by a truck with only a vague memory of what had occurred the previous night. Even the feel of Marco’s arms holding me and how good it felt to have him curled up around me couldn’t stop the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, knowing something horrible happened even if I couldn’t remember everything. Marco tried to pretend like everything was fine, but not even his hot body wrapped in just a towel could distract me from the overwhelming smell of puke in the room. After twenty minutes of me arguing with him to tell me what happened, he finally did and I immediately wished I’d ignored the puke smell and let my brain keep what I did a nice little secret locked away forever.
“Maybe the zipper is broken. That’s probably what it is, just a broken zipper,” Charlotte mumbles.
“The zipper isn’t broken, tubby. How is this possible when you’re only like five minutes pregnant? How does this dress not fit when you’ve been puking every day since the stick turned pink?” I complain, immediately regretting my use of the puking word since it just makes me remember what I did the first time I had a penis in my mouth.
“Shut the fuck up, dick-bag!” she yells through clenched teeth. “You call me tubby one more time and I will punch you in the throat!”
The curtain slides open and Ava sticks her head in the dressing room. “Everything okay in here? Why is it taking so long for you to put on a fucking dress?”
I drop my hands from the zipper and back away from Charlotte. There is no way that zipper is going to budge.
“Fatty here doesn’t fit into her wedding dress anymore,” I tell Ava.
Charlotte’s arm flies back and her forearm smacks against my throat. I start choking and wrap my hands around my neck, giving Charlotte a dirty look.
“I warned you,” Charlotte growls, returning my dirty look as she stares at me over her shoulder.
“You told me not to call you tubby, you didn’t say anything about fatty, you fatty-fat-ass-dick-head,” I growl back in between coughs.
“You seriously can’t zip the dress?” Ava questions, stepping inside the small room and pulling the curtain closed behind her.
She steps forward and tries to zip it herself, giving up after a few hard tugs.
“Nope, not gonna happen. This size two no longer fits your size eight ass,” Ava informs our sister. “Maybe you should have eased up on that entire box of Twinkies you inhaled for breakfast this morning.”
Charlotte stomps her foot and whirls around, the dress billowing out around her as she turns. It really is a beautiful dress and she looks stunning. From the front.
“They’re the only things that I can keep down so shut the fuck up!”
The curtain slides back again and this time, Aunt Claire pokes her head in. “They’re getting a little stingy with the free champagne out here, can we speed things along?”
Charlotte quickly moves in front of me so the huge gap in the back of her dress can’t be seen in the full-length mirror behind her.
“This isn’t a bar, Aunt Claire. I think five glasses is enough,” Charlotte tells her.
“I had cancer! Have you no shame?” she argues.
“There is a statute of limitations on how long you can keep using that to make us feel bad,” Ava says. “It’s not going to work because you want more booze.”
Aunt Claire gives her the finger. “You’re mean and I don’t like you very much right now.”
“Why am I the only adult in this room?” Ava complains with a roll of her eyes.
“I am acting like an adult, you’re just being a meanie doo-doo head,” Aunt Claire states, sticking out her tongue as she pulls her head back and yanks the curtain closed.
“We’ll just tell them you’ve been stress-eating,” Ava says with a shrug. “Weddings are stressful, it’s easily believable. It’s not like they didn’t witness you inhaling that box of snack cakes in the car. Oh, wait. They didn’t because you hunkered down in the back seat and made Molly hold the box and pretend like she was the one eating them.”
I nod in agreement. Not my finest hour pretending to chew every time our mother looked in the rearview mirror or Aunt Claire turned around to look at the three of us.
“Oh, just so you know, Marco hasn’t said a word to Tyler about the night of the great penis purge,” Ava tells me while Charlotte reaches behind her to try and zip up her dress on her own. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him, I just nonchalantly asked what they talked about when he got home from grabbing a beer with Marco last night. If Tyler knew, it would have been the first thing out of his mouth since that man cannot keep a secret. Not only can your man handle a little vomit on his junk, he doesn’t gossip about it. You’ve got yourself a keeper.”
I close my eyes in mortification as she laughs, refusing to give her a high-five when she holds her hand up in the air.
Even though I wanted to lock myself in my room and never face Marco again after the night in the hotel room, he made that impossible to do. He wouldn’t let one day go by without seeing me, and as much as I wanted to hide from him so I never had to think about what I did, I wanted to be around him even more. He came up to work every day and took me to lunch, he planned dates and things for us to do almost every night and he never let more than a few hours go by without calling to tell me he just wanted to hear the sound of my voice. My two year crush and only a handful of weeks with him has shot me right up the hill of falling in love with him to tumbling over the edge and head over heels, madly, passionately in love with him.