hi I have been bloated all night from pizza and cramps my tummy hurts and Iām so dehydrated. Do u ever have those moments where you eat a lot of dairy and then feel like you have to drink a ton of water to process it all. Thatās me rn. My head hurts from staying up from the cramps. But this is also my fault too, I started to feel full but I kept eating even though I probably shouldnāt have. Now Iām just extra bloated, and sickly warm feeling. I have a fan going at least and Iāve had water on and off but I also have my trash can nearby just in caseā¦everything feels stuck in my belly, the gas, the food, and Iām swallowing a little more thickly than Iād like to every so often. I wonder if warm hands rubbing my stomach would make me feel better or worse, I feel like now it can go either wayā¦
Oh honeyā¦I feel like I can see your belly round and taught, spilling onto the sheets while you lay on your side.
You deserve to have a big spoon cuddling you and your belly from behind. I bet my hands would feel good for a while, maybe even lull you to sleep while I massage out your cramps and the burps seem to slow.
But just as youāre about to fall fully asleep, I feel your insides slither and bubble beneath my hands and a groan escapes from your belly to your mouth . Your hand moves lazily to your stomach and I hear a mumbled ātrashcanā¦ā slip out. In a swift but tired movement you lean your body over the edge of the bed, moaning and burping the whole time. I rub your back and kiss your neck as your body heaves, your tummy preparing to expel everything.
Your mouth fills with presick saliva and you start spitting into the bag lined plastic bin. I move my hand to the base of your stomach and start pushing. Gently at first, your tortured breathes and moans as my guides. I can feel the mound of dough, cheese, and greaseāitās stuck at the base of your stomach, drowning in watery sick.
For what feels like ages you gag and heave with nothing but a few thick strands of stomach acid and spit making their way out, coating your lips in the taste of your undigested meal. I mumble sweet nothings into your neck and kiss your shoulders while you beg your insides to let it end. Please. It hurts so bad. Youāre so full itās tortureā¦
The whole time Iām begging myself to ignore how soaked my thighs are so I can help make you feel betterā¦but Iām so hard I often canāt help but rut softly into your back and ass. And I know you can tell because each time your moans get a little louderā¦youāre complaining a little whinier, a little moreā¦helpless. And we stay like that, both unmoored by your incredibly sick belly. At some point we both notice the other rubbing one out beneath our underwear. Weāre prolonging your intense nausea and making your belly worse just to get off to it. For a brief moment we watch each other pant, watch our wrists move together while you complain how much your stomach hurts. While you threaten to be sick, tell me how much your tummy hurts, how full you feel, over and over and over.
Until in a rush, that pizza projectiles all over the carpet and side of the bed. Barely anything got into the trash. You canāt stop yourself either. Wave after wave, heave after heave, your gut rids itself of your oversized meal. And then youāre cumming and I canāt help my jaw from dropping, my fingers picking up pace. I canāt believe my eyes. Your shamelessly sick belly all over the bedroom but all you can focus on is coming into your hand. Soon after Iām arching my back and stuttering, pulsing, whimpering. We both pant, exhausted and a little shocked. Until I look at you and say:
āLooks like we wonāt be sleeping anytime soon.ā
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