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Surprisingly, it’s never been much of a problem during oral sex, even oral sex with a partner whose dimensions defied all sense of normalcy. And for that, I suppose, I should be grateful.
In fact it was never a problem at all until I wound up pregnant. During the time when most women were bent over the sink or toilet each day, I stayed blissfully upright. After making it through my first trimester with not even an errant burp, I indulged in a moment of misplaced pride. I congratulated myself on being such a good little girl that I’d even managed to avoid morning sickness.
And then immediately my gag reflex kicked into overdrive; I spent the rest of the pregnancy in a battle with barfing. The feeling of food sliding past the back of my throat sent me racing to the restroom. Any food. All day long.
A portable puke kit (towel, baby wipes, breath mint, baggie) was my constant companion. I warned my students that if they saw me clamp hand over mouth and race for the door, they should give way. They nodded, awe-struck, and trained a collective nervous eye on me.
That year, not a single sophomore fell pregnant.
Ever since then, I’ve barfed at frighteningly regular intervals. A crying jag can send me running to the sink. So can a speck of food incorrectly swallowed. If the gag reflex is tripped, I’m done.
It’s gotten so bad that even coughing triggers it. This makes things mighty fun when my children share with me their colds. This they do every time they are afflicted, because they also share with me their boogers.
They start drizzling from the nose and coughing, and I enjoy a few days’ of calm before I follow their lead. By the time their drippy noses have crusted over, I’m in the worst of the snot inspired cough-puke two-step. It’s a sight to behold, I’m sure.
And that’s where I am right now. I can get nothing done but drip and fight against the gag. It’s worst at night; when I should be sleeping I’m instead awakened by insistent coughing which turns into violent heaving.
But I’m not complaining. No, really I’m not. It could be worse, right?
I could retch at the first hint of cock at the back of my throat. Now that would be a catastrophe.
tongue-tied
Ariane on February 15th, 2008 
badinfluencegirl
THATGuy on February 15th, 2008 
Sailor
Slow Learner on February 15th, 2008 
bittersweet me
Rupert
Omnipotent Poobah
sillygirl01 on February 15th, 2008 
Randi
nitebyrd on February 15th, 2008 
Sometimes heartbroken on February 15th, 2008 
Maria
PB Zoom
Samantha
Brainiac Chick
lushlyme
distracted
Jennifer on February 17th, 2008 
fred on February 17th, 2008 
Iron
aag
Chris
Shay
Haaaaaaa
