A Bloody Mess
You're in your girlfriend's bed when your period makes a surprise early arrival. You think she'll be mad- you've ruined her sheets after all- but instead she is the sweetest, most caring, attentive girlfriend, and you can't believe how lucky you are.
A pain shooting across your belly makes you groan awake, and your eyes flutter open slowly. You are tangled in Melissa’s sheets, and she is fast asleep next to you. Looking like an angel with her red hair fanned out around her. You smile, wincing as a sharp pain distracts you again.
You feel a dampness between your legs, and you look down. “Shit!” You say, scrambling out of bed and staring at the big blood stain that has spread across Melissa’s white sheets. “Shit,” you say again, trying not to cry.
You've been dating Melissa for a few months now, and you’ve managed to avoid being around her when you’ve had a period until this very moment. Your period is so unpredictable, though. It is so irregular, and it would appear it has decided to come early this month. Your lip wobbles; you don’t want Melissa to be mad. But you can’t change the sheets while she’s in the bed!
Blood is dripping down your thighs, so you head to the bathroom to try to clean yourself up. You rummage through her bathroom cupboard trying to find a tampon, or even a pad! And you can’t find anything. That’s one downside of dating an older woman.
“Hon?” Melissa calls. You hear her gasp, and you prepare for her to scream at you. Your ex would’ve screamed for the mess you made. They actually did scream at you, many times, for things out of your control.
You are kneeling in front of the sink when Melissa comes into the bathroom, her expression soft and sleepy. “Are you okay, sweet girl?” She asks in such a tender voice, and your hormones get the better of you, and you burst into tears, blood still dripping onto her bath mat now. You’re making a mess of her house.
“I can leave,” you cry. “I’ll buy you new sheets, I’ll pay for cleaning.”
“Sweetheart, relax,” Melissa says, crouching down and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can worry about the bed, okay?” She says, standing and turning on the shower. She takes your hand and pulls you to your feet.
“You’re not mad at me?” You ask, and she smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“No, baby. Why would I be mad?” She asks. “I used to have periods, too.”
“I ruined your bed. Maybe even your mattress!” You sniffle.
“I have a mattress protector, hon. It’s okay,” she says as she steps into the shower and pulls you in with her. “Are you in pain?” She asks, and you nod. “I’ll get you some meds once you’re cleaned up, and I’ll find the box of tampons I have in my wardrobe somewhere.”
“I was looking, but I couldn’t find anything,” you tell her, and she nods, cupping your face again.
“I’m old,” she laughs. “I don’t have to deal with this anymore.”
“Lucky you,” you sniffle.
“You’re breakin’ my heart,” she says, pulling you close to her chest. You cry against her wet breasts as the water washes over you both. “I’m going to take care of you today, my sweet girl.”
“You don’t have to,” you say, and she silences you with a soft kiss.
“You know I love takin’ care of you, blood or not,” she smirks. She removes the shower head from the holder and gently sprays it between your legs, watching the blood rush down the drain. You whimper as it hits your clit, and she smirks again.
“Do you get really horny during your period?” She asks. “I used to.”
“Yeah,” you admit shyly. “But I don’t expect you to do anything,” you say quickly.
“Why not?” She frowns. “I’m not scared of Shark Week, hon.”
“W-what?” You ask, shocked. “You’d still have sex with me?”
“Of course I would. It’s blood, not acid!” She exclaims. “I assume that means no one has ever taken care of you before.”
“My ex told me it was disgusting,” you say.
“Well, they were an idiot,” she says, stroking your cheek. She lathers up some soap in her hands and starts to wash your body. It feels so good letting someone take care of you, and you fully embrace it.
“Let’s get you to bed,” she says. “We can change the sheets after I’m done with you. No point in ruinin’ more sheets,” she explains. She steps out of the shower and wraps herself in a towel before grabbing a big fluffy towel and wrapping you in it. She rubs her arms up and down your arms, drying you off.
“I’m going to get those pills now, you look like you’re in agony,” she sighs, kissing your cheek. You want to cry again, stupid hormones. Both from pain and from how lucky you are to have Melissa.
You stand awkwardly in the bedroom, scared to bleed anywhere else, and when Melissa comes back, she tsk’s at you. “Lie down, hon,” she says. “I don’t care if you bleed anywhere.”
She hands you two pills and a glass of water. You throw them in your mouth and gulp down the water. “Lie down, let me help with those cramps,” she says, kissing the top of your head. “Orgasms have been scientifically proven to help.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you smirk, and she shakes her head, chuckling.
“Only the ones I really care for,” she says. You lie down against the pillows, your towel still under you. Mel pulls it down a bit so you’re sitting on it properly, and she opens your legs.
“Would you prefer fingers or strap?” She asks.
“Both?” You whine needily. Mel smirks, kissing the inside of your thigh.
“Let’s start with fingers,” she says softly, sliding two fingers into you. You moan, and she bends down to kiss you sweetly. “Does that feel okay?” She asks. “You feel so swollen and tight.”
“Feels good,” you whine, your brows knotted together.
“Good,” she says. “Don’t hold back, baby. Take what ya need.”
You nod, feeling an intense orgasm building. It hurts deep in your stomach, but you know it will feel good after. You hold Mel’s hand, breathing heavily against her face as she fingers you harder. Her thumb rubs against your clit, and you buck.
“I’m coming- that’s it- right there,” you gasp, shuddering underneath her. She smiles against your face, kissing you softly again as she slows down her fingers and brings you through it.
“Good girl,” she says. “Does that feel good?” She asks, and you nod. She pulls her fingers out, and your eyes go wide when you see the amount of blood on them.
You’re about to apologise, and she stops you. “Don’t you dare say sorry,” she says. “I told you, I don’t care.”
“How are you so perfect?” You ask, and she smiles, wiping her fingers on the towel.
“Born that way, babe,” she smirks. She climbs off the bed and gets the strap-on situated on her hips. “You wanna stay in that position, or you want somethin’ else?” She asks, stroking your belly when she climbs back on the bed.
“I don’t know,” you say, and she smiles.
“That’s okay, my poor hormonal girl. Let’s keep going like this, and then you don’t have to move much, hm?” She suggests, and you nod.
You’re so wet, probably mostly from the blood but also from how sexy and caring Melissa is being right now. She slides right in, and you feel your walls grip around the dildo. It feels so good it almost hurts. You are so sensitive.
“Slow,” you beg, reaching out to touch Melissa. She nods, holding your legs beside her as she thrusts in and out so slowly it looks like it might be painful for her. She can do slow, of course, she can, but she never does. She normally fucks you hard and fast until you are practically one with the mattress. She loves taking charge, making you scream. She’s even made you cry a couple of times from such intense orgasms. She’s an angel, in every sense of the word. You never expected she would be a freak in the sheets when you met her at school. But you’re glad she is, and you’re glad she decided to open up to you one day— because if she didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.
“I love you,” you blurt out in a moment of intense hormonal vulnerability as she rubs your clit lazily while she fucks you slowly.
“You do?” She asks, a smile creeping across her face, and you nod, blushing deeply as you watch her. “Good,” she says. “Because I love you too. Why else do you think I want to take care of you?” She asks, thrusting again, a little harder this time. “Because you’re my whole world, hon. I would do anything for you.”
“Melissa,” you whine, grabbing her waist. “Fuck me harder now,” you beg.
“Anything for you, principessa,” she says as she increases the speed, but only slowly at first. She knows you’re sensitive, and she doesn’t want to hurt you, no matter how hard you want it.
“You’re so sexy like this,” she pants. “Blood and all.”
“You’re a freak,” you laugh. You feel the dildo so deep it feels like it’s in your stomach, and she thrusts into you with vigour, rubbing your clit harder. You can feel your orgasm building, and it feels like it hurts, but you need Melissa to keep going.
“Mmmm,” you moan, writhing underneath her. “Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Melissa says. “Good girl, you take my cock so well.”
“I love your cock,” you moan. “I’m coming!”
“Yes, baby,” she grunts, fucking you harder until you are whimpering and writhing underneath her. Your chest heaves as she pulls out, and she doesn’t say anything, just disappearing off to the bathroom. Maybe she’s changed her mind, and she really is grossed out by the mess you’ve made. Your mind starts to spiral until she comes back with a warm washcloth and starts to wipe between your legs.
“We made a mess,” she smirks. “Gotta get my girl nice and clean,” Mel says, and you start to cry again. Stupid fucking hormones.
“Oh, honey,” she says. “Let me find those tampons, and we can go and have breakfast.”
“Okay,” you sniffle. “I’m really hungry.”
“Yeah?” She smiles. “Good, because I really want to cook you a nice, hearty meal,” she says. “Gotta keep you happy and comfortable, baby girl.”
She walks over and rubs your belly again, leaning down to kiss you. “How are you feeling now?” She asks.
“Like the luckiest girl in the world,” you sniffle as she kisses away your tears. “Not sure what I did to deserve this.”
“Sweetheart, you’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know,” she says. “So let me take care of you now.”
“You always take care of me, it’s kind of your thing,” you laugh, and she smirks.
“Yeah, I do like being needed. It’s my kink,” she winks, climbing off the bed again and going to find the tampons.
“I hope these are okay,” she says as she tosses you the box. “We can Uber some period supplies, but they will do for now.”
“Thank you,” you say, getting up to head to the bathroom. You make note of the blood-soaked towel, and you cringe, trying not to make it a big deal. Melissa doesn’t seem to care, so why should you?
You clean yourself up, and when you come back out of the bathroom in your comfiest sweatpants and t-shirt, the bed has been stripped, and you are relieved to see the mattress didn’t stain.
You head out of the bedroom and down the stairs, and you smile when you see Melissa, hair up, comfy clothes on, bare feet in the kitchen and flipping something in the frying pan already.
You walk up behind her, and you wrap your arms around her waist, kissing the back of her shoulder. “I love you,” you whisper again, and you feel her whole body relax into you.
“I love you too, sweetheart. Go sit down, put your feet up,” she suggests. “You’re not movin’ a muscle today if I can help it.”
You sit on the couch and watch Melissa. “I hope you washed your hands first,” you tease, and she glares at you.
“What kinda monster do ya think I am?” She asks, and you laugh as she abandons the stove and walks over. “I filled you a hot water bottle, hold it to your tummy,” she says. Your heart swells as you smile at her, watching her walk back to the stove.
She spends the weekend stuffing you— in more ways than one. She stuffs you full of delicious home-cooked meals, and then she stuffs you full of her favourite silicone cock. She is insatiable, even when you’re a hormonal bloody mess. And you feel so special to be loved by her.
When you head back to school on Monday, the worst of your period has passed. But that doesn’t stop her from checking in every few hours. If the other teachers didn’t know about your relationship before, they do now. And neither of you seems to care.
Melissa brings you soup for lunch, stew and pasta salad for the rest of the week. Her hand sits on the small of your back when you talk to Ava, and she hugs you far too intimately for a friend when she says goodbye at the end of the day. She hugs you like a wife sending her husband off to war, even though you both know you’ll probably end up in her bed tonight anyway. Because you love the mean little Italian lady, and your life is all the better for having her in it.
