Tyler and I had first met as colleagues. We had been dating for just over a year and it was going great. We were on the same page about so many things, both in bed and out of it. And I felt almost ready to tell him about my deepest, darkest kink; I just hadn’t found quite the right moment.

One night we went to a staff party. He drove us there because he didn’t feel much like drinking. However he encouraged me to drink as much as I wanted.

“I just love seeing you enjoy yourself, baby,” he said to me in the car on the way to the party. “You get so cute and sexy when you’re drunk. But I just know you only have eyes for me. You could have a hundred guys hitting on you and not even notice. So you just have some fun and I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready.”

“I love you, babe,” I smiled at him and reached over to put my hand on his. I loved how much he trusted me and I knew I could have fun without him getting jealous if another guy looked at me the wrong way. Nothing like my controlling ex who wouldn’t let me go anywhere. Tyler had encouraged me to dress up for the occasion and I was feeling sexy in a sparkly dress, high heels and dramatic smoky eye makeup.

When we got to the party the buffet was a little depleted, but the drinks were flowing fast and free. I roamed around the room, catching up with a few people I hadn’t seen for a while. Pretty soon I was delightfully buzzed and Tyler didn’t mind, fetching me more wine while he sipped on his club soda.

At one point we stepped out into a secluded hallway and made out like teenagers. I couldn’t get enough of his kisses and I was burning up with the desire to tell him what I wanted to do later.

“Did you see the way that guy was looking at you?” he murmured against my ear.

“Which guy?” I giggled.

“The one you were just talking to. He was eyeing you up and down, baby.”

“I really didn’t notice,” I shrugged. “You know I would never…”

“Of course I know. And I don’t blame him, you are looking super fucking hot tonight. He can look all he wants.”

He kissed me deeply and let his hands rove southwards over my body. Now, I wondered. Now is the time to tell him.

“There’s something I want to do with you tonight,” I whispered between kisses. “I want to tell you my weirdest fantasy.”

“I think I’d do anything with you,” he murmured into my ear.

“When we get home,” I said barely audibly, “I want to throw up for you.” I could feel myself blushing as I said it. I’d never done this with anyone before; only by myself. I’d all the time wondered it was too weird to distribute with anyone.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything and I wondered I’d freaked him out. Then he gave a low moan and kissed me hard, his boner pressing against me through his pants. “Oh my God,” he said, “I think we need to go home right now.”

He took me by the hand and led me out of the party back to the parking lot. I was looking forward to exploring a new kink together and we talked on the way home about how we would do it. We decided that I would drink lots of water and then he would fuck me from behind while I leaned over the bathtub and showed him how to make me puke. I was getting wet just imagining it.

But maybe I was imagining it too hard or had drunk more than I wondered, because my stomach started to feel uncomfortable about halfway through the car journey. I wound down the window a little, trying to keep the feeling under control.

“Are you okay?” Tyler asked, glancing over at me.

“Yeah, I just… feel kind of sick already,” I groaned, trying not to think about what I’d eaten from the buffet. Maybe the chicken had been sitting at room temperature for too long, or maybe the shrimp wasn’t good. Oh God, I’d eaten sour cream dip…

“Can you keep it in until we get home? It’s not that far. I can’t pull over right here.”

“I… ugh… I don’t know…” I moaned. The street lights were going by too fast, making me dizzy. I leaned my head back against the headrest, thinking I could keep my stomach contents down if I didn’t move or breathe.

I so badly wanted to save it for him, but my stomach had other ideas. It twisted and cramped, and my mouth started to water. I knew it was no use; I couldn’t hold it. Now I was gonna throw up in his car and make an awful mess. It reminded me of the shame and embarrassment of being carsick as a child.

“I can’t hold it. I’m gonna hurl,” I groaned, and started to urgently search the car for a bag or anything to throw up in. I couldn’t discover anything, but I could feel my stomach lurch in a point-of-no-return sort of way. I desperately pressed a hand to my mouth, begging myself not to ruin his car mats.

“Hold on,” Tyler said frantically, reaching behind him into the backseat. “I think I have a bag back here.”

I heaved and my mouth filled with hot, sour puke but I kept my hand clamped tightly over my mouth, keeping it in. With my other hand I started to grapple with the window controls but didn’t think I could get the window down before the next heave, so I forced myself to swallow the mouthful of vile, lumpy vomit. But it nauseated me even more and I knew it wouldn’t stay back down for long.

Tyler finally found a plastic bag in the backseat, shook it open and shoved it over to me. I held it open, bent over it and stared into it, gasping and spitting. Then I heaved loudly and violently, bringing up the swallowed vomit for a second time. It landed wetly in the plastic bag, splashing against the sides and sending spray back into my face. I let out a disgusting, gurgling belch and then heaved several more times, bringing up stale alcohol, half-digested food and stomach acid. The last few heaves just brought up clear liquid and strings of saliva, which I spat out onto the rest of the stinking mess.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped, with my face still half in the bag. “I wanted to save it for you.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he said. “Did you get it all up?”

I stared at the mess in the bag. It looked like a lot. “I guess so,” I said, disappointed in myself.

He finally found a safe place to pull over and stopped the car at the side of the road. He jumped out, opened the passenger door, took the bag from me and tossed it into the bushes. Then he helped me to carefully step out of the car. I stood leaning against it, catching my breath. I was grateful for the fresh air and glad that I’d managed not to get any puke on my clothes.

“That… was not what we planned,” I said wryly.

Tyler pulled me into an embrace. “It’s okay. Things don’t always have to go to plan. And now that I know about your secret kink, we can always try again.”

I looked up at him and wondered for the thousandth time how amazingly handsome he was, his striking good looks highlighted in the fluorescent street light.

“Your makeup’s all messed up,” he smiled, wiping my face; my eyes must have watered and sent streams of mascara down my cheeks. Then he kissed me, gently and then passionately, pressing my butt back against the car.

As usual, the act of vomiting had got me insanely aroused. My body was buzzing with adrenaline and I could feel my nipples hardening under my thin dress and wetness soaking through my panties. I could also feel Tyler’s gigantic, hard cock straining against me through his pants. I couldn’t wait until we got home.

“I want you,” I gasped urgently. “Right here, right now.”

He glanced up and down the road. It was a secluded lay-by; probably no one would see.

So he dropped his pants and fucked me right there against the car, and I came harder and faster than I’ve ever come in my life.