A Place for Puke

My first fic! Be nice 😅 let me know what you all think!

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Jenna sighed as she slammed the trunk of her car closed, finally. After what seemed like countless rounds of impossible baggage Tetris, her luggage had finally puzzle-pieced into the back of her tiny red fiat. Now all that was left to do was to grab a snack, use the bathroom, leave a list of cat care notes for Mrs. Mckinley, and lock up. She checked the time on her phone. Shit, already twenty minutes behind schedule. Jenna chewed her lip and shook her head, starting the few-step trek decidedly to her door, keys jingling around her index finger. She could text the cat notes; Mrs. McKinley had to figure out how to use instant messaging eventually. She fastened the lock and gave the knob a jiggle for good measure. Good to go.

The car door thumped closed and she pulled her seatbelt across her body, giving her mirrors a check one-two before switching the vehicle on and into drive. Her mother would be furious if she made it in after dinner, no matter how much she insisted that the day before thanksgiving wasn’t half as important as the cornucopia of holiday meals itself. Still, it was a good eight hour drive into the city, and she wasn’t about to try to weave her way around LA like a bumper car on a mission. The fiat couldn’t take it.

The first few hours went by pretty smoothly. She managed to avoid the traffic on some of the major highways with ease, singing along to the music she’d pre-loaded into her phone’s playlists. She reached into her glove compartment and held off the annoying pang of boredom hunger with one of the bottles of water she kept for emergencies. Some people just knew how to road trip.

The traffic started to stall and she coursed from a steady 70mph into a safe 50-something. “Might as well make a rest stop,” she said aloud, finding that the words came out in a sort of delayed sing-song. A habit she was glad no one was around to witness. She flipped on her blinker and took the off ramp, following the overhead signs into the parking lot of a CVS. She felt the car murmur to a rest and pulled her frizzing red hair back into a messy bun. When she stepped out of the car, the unusual dampness of the air hit her, making her comfortable two-in-one workout/road trip yoga shorts cling to her fit thighs. She pulled off her light sweater, tossing it into the passenger seat, and checked her phone.

“Are you kidding me?” Jenna groaned. 8 new texts from “Mom❤️️👩🏼👯”. “Pls pick up on ur way” along with seven separate messages with one item each that she was to fetch. She sighed, taking a mental note. Baking soda, vanilla extract, cinnamon, lighter fluid, Advil, heartburn medicine for grandpa, adult diapers for Great Aunt Marge, and eggnog. Great. What a ring-up.

She grabbed what they had to offer, along with a bag of chips for herself, nonchalantly throwing her items into a basket. As she made her way up to a register, she scanned the store for a Restrooms sign. The woman at the checkout rang her up, and Jenna peaked around once more before asking. “Excuse me, but is there a bathroom here?”

The woman looked up from her screen, giving a little shake of her greying curls. “Sorry, dear. Public restroom’s closed for renovations.” Jenna hadn’t really realized her urge until she’d been told she was unable to relieve it. Suddenly more aware of the weight in her bladder, she pressed on, a little hesitantly. “Is there maybe an employee restroom…? It’s…kind of an emergency.” It wasn’t, but she didn’t want to make that a reality. The clerk seemed to call her bluff. “I’m sorry, but it’s really strictly against policy.” She ticked her head to the left, and Jenna’s hazel eyes traced to a camera in the ceiling. “Oh. Um. Sure, I understand.” She gathered her bags and left.

Tossing her supplies on top of her discarded sweater, Jenna fired up the fiat once again. The onramp alone was indication enough that traffic was in full bloom, so she cranked up the tunes and popped her chips open. Another hour crawled agonizingly by, and the traffic was relentless, no matter how far left her lane was. The salty chips had, despite her better judgement, made her crack open her second “emergency” bottle of water. A half hour ago Jenna swore she’d pull over and find a restroom. Every time she told herself she’d get off the highway, however, it seemed that the traffic itched just a little speedier, and she didn’t want to miss a chance to ride the wave before the whole road collectively became a slug once more. And now she was paying for it. Jenna had resorted to pressing her legs firmly together. She officially had to pee.

“Alright, pulling over,” she promised herself after another half hour of struggling. She signaled right to merge, only to be met with a near standstill of cars. Confused, peering around, she realized what was dragging the highway out: a flicker of red and blue in the far distance just barely shone above the shiny tops of cars in the afternoon sun. Great, it must have been some sort of crash. “Rubberneckers…” she mumbled, catching bright orange “onramp closed” signs in her peripherals. This had to be a joke.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t. Another half an hour and she’d moved approximately three fourths of a mile. “Come the hell on,” she whispered under her breath, drumming the steering wheel with her fingers. Her bladder was basically screaming, now. She figured they’d clear off soon and things would move smoothly again. Desperately, she pulled her aux cord from her phone’s audio jack and switched her car’s radio on, scanning frantically for a news channel. “Pileup on the freeways for several miles…4-car wreck…diesel truck…firefighters on the scene…awaiting further…”. Jenna leaned forward in her seat, suddenly faced with the reality of her situation. “Shit shit SHIT.”

Her shorts clung to her legs as she reduced herself to shoving a hand between her thighs. She had to go. She had to go BADLY. Somehow the idea that a toilet was so far out of reach only made matters worse. How long until she was out of this? An hour? More? There was no way she could wait that long. The ten minutes it would have taken her to get to a gas station was already a stretch. Why had she put it off this long? Jenna felt a moan bubble up as her bladder suddenly lurched. She clenched her muscles down hard. She’d just have to hold it.

Every minute became more and more time-consuming. Jenna gripped the wheel hard as her bladder spasms came closer and closer together, like pregnancy contractions. A seven-eleven commercial played over the radio. The sound of a drink pouring into an icy cup spilled out of her stereo system. Jenna felt her stomach flip and immediately there was a hot drip under her clothes. “Holy shit…” she breathed, in near disbelief. She would NOT pee herself like a child. She shoved her hand into her shorts, just to be sure. Sure enough, her cotton bikini panties were damp. “Holy shit…holy SHIT.” She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She’d wet her panties. Just a drop, but still. She hadn’t had an accident since elementary school. The audio drink sloshed against its cup, and Jenna could almost feel the pee in her bladder do the same. Her fingers were assaulted with a sudden hot wet jet, and she shoved her hand in her crotch and shivered hard. She was wetting herself. She was literally peeing her panties. She was going to have an accident.

Jenna felt tears well up in her eyes. Traffic was near stopped. Her fingers trembled against her pee hole. She felt the urgent piss beg to escape. Her panties were damp around her pussy, now, a messy circle of pee soaking into the fabric. Jenna tried to hold back tears as she shivered and held herself. She felt her muscles start to relax. “Oh my god…oh my god I’m pissing myself oh my god please no please oh my god I’m gonna pee my pants.” Her whole body fought her bladder, but she started to feel herself dribble. “Please no oh god oh FUCK.” She slammed her speakers off with her elbow, soft sobs echoing around her little car as a trickle ran over her fingers and wet her thighs. She just barely managed to cut it off before she had a thought.

Without giving it a second look, she reached into the passenger seat and tore open the package of adult diapers. Her trembling pussy started to let her pee go, and a little stream was soaking into her shorts. Jenna tore them down in a flash, now helplessly peeing openly, and her stream sprayed in desperate little bursts onto the floor and her seat. She raised her butt just an inch or so in half a second and slid one of the diapers under her in a panic as she cut the stream off once more. Her hand pressed the unfamiliar padding into her crotch, and, whimpering in humiliation, she started to lose control into it. It came in little squirts at first, soaking deeply into the soft cushion, warming around her mound. “Oh god…oh god I can’t hold it…oh fuck I’m gonna…oh my god ohh…ohhhHHH!!” Jenna moaned, blushing furiously, as her muscles gave way and she started to pee forcefully through her panties into the diaper. It swelled and grew hot under her hand, keeping it firmly pressed against her urgent stream. Her bladder throbbed as it released, and relief swept over her in a frenzy of ecstasy as the diaper grew thicker and thicker, amazingly absorbing her piss like a sponge. She was too overcome to worry about leaking, and she peed hard and without hesitation for almost a full minute, a soft hissing cutting the still air. Her stream trickled off into a dribble, and then a few drips, and her tired bladder finally rested numbly.

Jenna breathed heavily, looking at what she’d just done. She’d just used a diaper…she’d just had an accident, as a grown woman, and peed her panties. There was a wet patch the size of her fist over her crotch. Her face was bright fuscia as she pushed the diaper down by her feet, wincing as it sloshed, full, and pulled her shorts shakily up to assess her accident. They were wet around her ass and between her thighs, and had started to cool. The reality of what she’d done sunk in, and she felt shame rush through her. Yet, at the same time…

hehe titties to grab your attention!!! i am opening up customs for the next month or so!! obviously everything is up to my discretion and pricing will be a bit more expensive than my normal videos since i am only selling them to one person :)

i obviously have hard limits, one of these is eating vomit, i am simply not interested in doing that. i am open to things involving some other fetishes, omo, scat (maybe) and some other stuff. just let me know your idea and ill tell you how i feel about it :) generally most foods/drinks are an option, however drinking until blackout probably isn’t an option for me since im finishing up my spring quarter in college,, aka exam hell.

My boyfriend and I went on a mini road trip over the weekend. I saved a book I had been wanting to read in anticipation of the trip. About 30 mins in I reached into my bag and pulled out my book along with my headphones since he wanted to listen to a sports podcast while he drove. 

My bf looked over as I was getting situated and noticed the book;

“you don’t get carsick?” He asked. “So far so good” I chuckled under my breath. “This will be interesting”, he replied. “You wish”, I teased.  

Another hour goes by, we get back in the car after a short pit stop for the restroom, snacks, etc. The ride was smooth, we coasted along without hitting any traffic. 

We got cocky because as soon as we got back on the freeway it was stop-and-go for the next 45 mins.

We were on the freeway, cars packed in around us, no shoulder, no exit in sight. Constantly breaking. I started to get a little dizzy. I was hydrated and we just finished our snacks, so I wasn’t sure why, but maybe the motion of the stop and go started to get to me.

One second I was just a little off, and the next my stomach dropped hard, like everything inside me shifted at once. It came on so fast I didn’t even have time to process it.

“I don’t feel good,” I said, my voice already tight.

He glanced over, immediately. “Carsick?”

I nodded, pressing my hand against my stomach. “Yeah… really bad.”

“Okay, hang on, I’ll try to get over,” he said, but I could tell from the traffic that it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. The nausea spiked so quickly it almost scared me. There was no easing into it, no warning. Just that sudden, overwhelming wave.

The first heave was silent and hollow, a violent upward jerk of the diaphragm that strained against the seatbelt. I tried to swallow it back, my heart hammering against my ribs, but the second surge was undeniable.

“I—” I started, but I didn’t even get the words out before my body took over. It happened in a sudden, hot rush. There was no time to reach for a bag or even lean toward the window. I lurched forward slightly my stomach contracted hard. The force of the puke spilled down my chest and lap, a jarring contrast of heat against the cool fabric of my clothes. The sharp, acidic aftertaste on my tongue. 

I froze for a second, completely caught off guard. There was nowhere to go, nothing I could do in time, and I just remember the shock of it more than anything how fast it happened, how I couldn’t stop it.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry babe,” I said immediately, my face burning. 

I puked in front of him and on him a little before so we were already aware of our now shared kink thanks to him, except this was entirely unexpected and I wouldn’t have wanted his car to be caked in vomit. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” he said right away, calm but focused. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It came out of nowhere,” I said, still trying to catch my breath.

“I know,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “You couldn’t help that.”

He looked ahead, still driving carefully through traffic, then glanced back at me. “Just breathe for a second, okay? We’ll get off as soon as we can.”

I nodded, trying to steady myself, my stomach still unsettled but not as intense as that first wave.

“Here,” he said, reaching over as much as he could and handing me whatever he had nearby to help clean up a little. “You’re okay.”

He managed to move over to the shoulder of the highway briefly, so we could handle the situation.

The relief of the first wave is cruelly short-lived. Just as I draw in a ragged, shaky breath, a sharp cramp seizes my stomach again, deeper and more insistent than the last. There’s no warning, no buildup of saliva or cold sweat just a sudden, “Babe, I-“, but then another violent rebellion from my stomach.

Puke spills over, a hot, uncontrollable overflow that forces its way past my lips before I can even gasp. It’s a heavy, viscous sensation, slick and acidic, coating my chin and neck. “That’s okay baby, let it all go.“ he said. The weight of my mess pulls at my clothes, spreading further across my lap in a damp, spreading heat. I heave and gag again. My body feeling tired I place my hand over my mouth trying to keep myself upright. “Your tummy wants to be emptied sweetheart, get it all out” Each time my diaphragm heaves, a thick, hot torrent surges past my teeth, spilling over my lips in a wide, uncontrolled stream. It’s enough volume that I can feel the weight of it pooling heavily in the folds of my clothes. 

I sit up holding the front of my sweatshirt away from my body, all of my vomit pooling in to the center, as it sags. “Good girl” he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “You look so sexy when your body surrenders like that.” Then I look down and notice as he starts to stroke his hard cock that bulges against his shorts begging to break through. I lick my lips as he pulls it out, it’s so heavy. 

I notice the slickness between my legs just getting wetter. I carefully pull the sweatshirt up and over my head, balling it up at my feet hiding its contents inside. He reaches and pulls down my top my bra strap slipping off my shoulder, he traces his finger along the blue lace then with one swift motion my breasts bounce out of my bra, swollen with arousal, begging to be stimulated. He starts pinching my nipples moving his fingers in circles around them. I let out a soft whimper as he leans into me, kissing my lips, he’s breathing heavily as we start making out. “fuck babe, you taste so good, you make me so fucking hard” he groaned. My belly waves and I start to rub on my throbbing pussy. 

My bf reaches his hand over rubbing my stomach in circles, “do you have more in there for me, baby?” He asked. “I don’t think so” I said. “How about I check?” He urged. He brings his fingers up to my lips before pushing past them. His other hand firmly gripping his hard pulsing cock. “Tongue out for me, please” I stick my tongue out as he tickles the back of my throat. A harsh gag escapes. “That’s it, give me all your puke, sweetheart.” With another gag more vomit coats his fingers. “Yes baby, you’re doing so good for me.” I’m rubbing my clit, feeling my orgasm build low in my stomach. He begins fucking my throat with his fingers and I heave again, coughing up saliva all over his hand. He enters again and with the next gag my orgasm peaks. I moan as my pussy aches with pleasure soaking my fingers. “Yes baby, cum for me like a good little puke slut.” My legs trembling. “Fuuuck.” He growled as his orgasm is painted all over my thighs. 

When we finally got off the freeway, he found a deserted parking lot and pulled over right away and turned to me fully. “That was intense baby, you feeling better now?” “I’m okay now, babe, but your car…” I remarked, then he stroked my hair, chuckling under his breath. “We can get it washed” he chided. 

I swiftly step out of the car, removing my puked soaked shirt and bra. Then he comes around the other side with a blanket, wrapping it around me and gesturing at me to remove my shorts and panties. He opens the trunk pulling out a pair of his basketball shorts and I pull them up hanging loosely over my hips. He passes me one of his t-shirts as well. Chunks of my puke now on the ground below from my drenched clothes. 

Once when my bf and I were like 8 months into dating. I was staying over and it was a normal night, but I woke up randomly in the middle of the night with bad cramps. I was so nauseous, but also so tired and out of it I couldn’t bring myself to the bathroom. I didn’t wanna wake up my bf, but I felt sick and didn’t wanna make a mess on the bed. I woke him and he told me to lay down and he brought me a trash bin. I was sweating and my mouth started to water. I knew I was going to puke, but I was embarrassed to be sick in front of him, the complete loss of control made me anxious. 

He put a cold cloth on the nape of my neck, spooning me from behind. He was so sweet telling me “it’s okay if you need to puke babe, don’t feel embarrassed.” His arm was wrapped around my waist and he was gently rubbing my stomach. I was starting to get shaky and he tightened his embrace around me. He stroked my hair and said, “ it’s okay babe, you’re going to feel so much better once you empty your system.” In that moment I started to feel the stomach acid rise in the back of my throat, choking down a gag. “Let it out, sweetheart” he said sweeping my hair out of my face. I felt the acid rise again and began to cough, laying on my side leaning my head off the side of the bed. Saliva dripping from my mouth. I coughed hard dry heaving. He said, “let me help you get it out, babe”. I moaned, desperate to be emptied now as I had been gagging for several minutes. 

Still spooning me, he tightened his grip around my waist even more, his palm pressing into my stomach, and I lurched forward, the pressure so tight. He scooped me up now seated between his legs both our legs off the side of the bed. His chest pressed up against my back his left arm wrapped around me pinning my arm down by my side. “Wait” I squirmed. “Shh, it’s okay baby, I’m gonna make you feel better.” He used his foot to move the trash bin between my legs. He swiftly brought his right arm around me, trapping me in his embrace. He leans forward and more of my saliva drips into the bin below. Suddenly, his fingers enter my mouth, stroking the back of my tongue and with the next gag a stream of puke pours out of my mouth all over his fingers and hand some landing on the floor beside the bin. 

“Good girl, let it all out” he says in my ear. Tears coming down my cheeks as I cough, but as soon as I do his fingers plunge to the back of my throat and another bout of puke erupts out of me as I struggle not to miss the trash bin again. I try to catch my breath and his fingers enter my mouth again as my dinner covers his hand, puke running down his arm. “I’m so-” I don’t finish the sentence before a torrent of vomit escapes my mouth, this time without the help of my bfs fingers. “You’re doing so good, baby” he said. I gasp between coughs and puke two more times. Still holding me with one arm he releases his grasp to grab the towel folded next to him, wiping my puke off of his hand and arm. I’m still breathing heavy and he grabs the glass of water off the bedside table handing it to me to take a sip. I gargle and spit into the bin below and take another sip, this time swallowing the water. “Are you feeling better baby?” He asked as I start to get my bearings. “Drink more water” he said. I take another sip only then noticing that I can feel his hard cock against my lower back. 

“Babe?” I asked hoarsely. “Yes, baby” he replied. “ Are you hard?” I say. “Umm”, he hesitated clearly not thinking I’d realize. “You just turn me on babe” he continued. “ I turn you on even when I’m puking everywhere?” I questioned. “ I guess holding you in my arms, while you completely surrender, losing all control. That makes me so fucking hard. You look so hot.” He admitted. My back is still pressed against him, he moves my hair off my neck kissing me slowly, his cock twitching against my back. I feel his hands slip under my tank top, squeezing my breasts slowly circling his fingers around my nipples, teasing them. “What I’d give to see you make a mess like that all over my cock.” He said. I start to feel slickness between my legs and I start to move my hips in a circle.