all over the floor

The silence was broken by a burst of terrible music from the speaker on the desk.

‘Level up!’ As she punched the air, Alicia sounded less than enthusiastic.

Rays of golden autumn light streaming through the high window, were still penetrating the gloom of the spare bedroom in their apartment, as Alexis and Alicia sat at the desk, and stared into the screens. The short brunette, Alicia, was trying to keep up her interest in the game, but tall dark Alexis had given up and was playing solitaire. Making a decision, Alicia paused the game, and opened a browser.

‘That level sucks … think I’ll just … um, do a quick search’. The tall girl with the short black hair kept playing solitaire, barely grunting an answer to her lovely companion. For some time, there was silence, punctuated by soft plastic clicks, and then Alexis heard a little gasp.

‘Oh … nice. Wasn’t expecting that’.

‘Mmmm … what? What is it?’ She looked across at the other screen. At first, Alexis could not quite make out the whole picture.

‘Is that … oh yes, all over the car seat’. The picture was clear, especially when Alicia clicked on it, and it filled the whole screen. ‘And the floor as well, I see. Impressive. What site are you on?’

‘Here. I’ll show you’. Two clicks, and a scroll upwards, revealed that it was a user site for drivers of a popular ride share app. Almost all of the posts were either text, or screen shots of maps, as Alicia scrolled back down. Then there was the picture they had been looking at, with ample piles of fresh vomit on the back seat and floor of a car. Then more text, until …

‘Stop. Go back’. It was another photo, but this was a picture of the inside of the rear door of a car. More puke was to be seen, and it looked as though somebody had tried to get the window down, but was too late. Regarding it critically, Alicia gave her judgment.

‘I do like the smear, and those lines of lumpy stuff’. Her girlfriend nodded in agreement, and was impressed by the line of chunks at the bottom of the car window, and the second line where the door handle was set into a kind of ridge, but something seemed to be lacking.

‘Go back to the other one’. There was a blur as the posts rolled downwards, then it stopped in exactly the right spot.

‘How did you do that’.

‘Years of practice. Yes, this is a good one, I think I will have to snip it … um … for the folders’.

During the time it took for Alicia to crop out the puke pic, and save it into the correct place, Alexis was thinking about people puking in cars. There was something seductive about the whole carsick scenario playing out, and she looked adoringly at Alicia.

‘Do you remember the last time you hurled in a car?’

‘Drunk, or carsick?’

‘Oh, carsick of course. Yes, definitely carsick’.

‘Back when I was at school, my final year. That was the last time’.

‘Was that the year when your school had the norovirus outbreak?’

‘Yup. This would have been … about a month or so before that happened. Maybe six weeks. We were visiting my uncle and aunt at their vineyard at Olive Valley’.

It took some time for Alicia to tell the long carsick story, but even so, she could not really do it justice.

It had been a nice holiday, and they were reluctant to leave that afternoon. At lunch, her Uncle Hudson, whose actual Japanese name was Hiro, persuaded their mom to try a shorter route back home. Normally the drive from Olive Valley to New Dresden was over three hours, but the short cut would shave 30 minutes off. At this time of the year, it would be getting dark early, and the idea was tempting.

Despite growing up in Tokyo, Uncle Hudson specialised in fine French cooking, especially sweet treats. The winery had a dining section at one side of the cavernous Tasting Room, and they lingered there for far too long. By the time Alicia, her sister Paula, and their mom, were in the car, it was later than expected. It would be necessary to try the hilly short cut, if they were to get back to the so-called civilised world before sunset.

The drive started well, with Paula in the front seat, and Alicia with the back seat all to herself. It was not until they were starting to climb the foothills, that she became carsick.

With the bends becoming tighter and tighter, and more numerous, Alicia was soon feeling horribly carsick. She had often been a little carsick, but rarely as much as now. While her level of nausea rose, her motivation declined, and she began to feel like some kind of zombie. Bend after bend, Alicia became completely switched-off, as she sat there with her head rolling gently from side to side. There were so many bends.

An eternity later, the car entered the steep downhill part of the short cut, where the bends were almost all hairpins. Up until this point, Alicia was absolutely certain that regardless of how sick she felt, she was unlikely to actually barf up her lunch. She had been carsick many times, but had not puked in a car since she was six years old. She would simply ride it out, as she always did. But between hairpin bends, she was wondering if this time was different.

More and more bends came and went. Bend after bend, and with each lurching twist, Alicia felt worse, and her mouth filled more with saliva. She had no remaining awareness of any potential action, like asking to stop the car. In any case, she would have had trouble being heard, because Paula and their mom were having a noisy argument about whether they were going too fast. They were oblivious of what was happening in the back seat.

There was one particular bend which was really nasty, and as they emerged, Alicia definitely thought she was going to puke. Instead, she just gagged. Now she was slumped back in the seat with her eyes barely open, unable to move. Just before the next bend, she thought that she was going to gag again, before her mouth suddenly filled with warm liquid, which then proceeded to spill all over the front of her sweater.

No sooner had the liquid and lumps finished blurting all down her chest, than she felt a real heave about to come on. Turning to the side, Alicia just managed to begin leaning over the empty back seat, when her body was wracked by a violent spasm. With bulging cheeks and eyes tightly closed, she projectile vomited everywhere. It felt uncanny, as though she was out of her own body, which had become a pipeline of rapidly gushing warm liquid. It all seemed to explode forth.

An eternity later, when she had stopped hurling, Alicia opened her eyes. As she surveyed the pile of throw up splashed across the back seat, she could hear Paula shouting to stop the car. Before she could think about this, the ultra-sick feeling came back, and she barfed up some more. It was not a torrent like before, but still added to the pile.

The car began to veer across to the side of the road, where there was a small area suitable for stopping, and Alicia spat out a chunk of semi-digested French pastry. Just as it came to a halt on the grass, the car jolted slightly. The effect of the jolt was immediate and quite spectacular. With one hand on her knee and the other on top of the back of the seat, she leaned further across, just as an almighty heave racked her body. A vast plume of vomit blasted out of her mouth, inundating the floor, below the part of the seat which was already submerged under an inch of sick.

When Alicia had finally finished ralphing everywhere, Paula, recovering from the shock of it all, ripped open her door and escaped from the vehicle. Their mom did likewise, as the aroma of fresh puke infused the interior of the car. Some tissues appeared for Alicia, after her mom opened the car door on her side. She was grateful for those tissues. It was amazing how much stuff had ended up stuck in her nose. After that, she was helped out, and retched up two more mouthfuls onto the grass. And that was it.

‘That sounds like a lot of puke’.

‘Yes. It was. My poor mother had to spend twenty minutes just scraping out the worst of it. And that was using the spill kit she had stowed in the trunk’.

‘So, you didn’t get home early after all’.

‘Nope’. She was staring at Alexis with an expression of curiosity. ‘I thought you would be more turned on by that story’.

‘Why? You aren’t’.

‘I never get turned on by my own vomit. What’s your excuse?’

‘Um, dunno. I was, to begin with. I think it is the carsick stuff. Ever since I began those new meds last week, I’ve been feeling sort of vaguely carsick a lot of the time’. Now Alicia remembered their previous conversation, just after Alexis had been prescribed the new improved drug for her mild form of epilepsy. There had been warnings of side effects that could last for a month.

‘Oh, poor thing’. She leaned over and gave her a cuddle, and that made Alexis feel better. Much better.

The next day was a Monday, and Alicia went off to work at the usual time. The 10.30 bus would get Alexis to the campus in plenty of time for the 12.00 seminar, allowing for some research in the library before heading to the faculty building. When she emerged from the front door, it had stopped raining. She collapsed her umbrella, stashed it in her bag, and set off towards the bus shelter a couple of blocks away.

Just as she had dreaded, the vague sort of carsick feeling arose halfway to the bus stop. These side effects of the pills were annoying, but bearable, and she plunged onwards. Sitting on the bench awaiting the bus, the sick feeling became more intense. Well, that doesn’t usually happen, she thought to herself. By the time Alexis climbed aboard, and found a seat, she was very sick indeed. She assured herself it would soon pass, but as the houses and streets receded in the window, it did not. The motion of the bus just made it worse, and she actually felt like hurling.

The bus was turning into the campus when Alexis suddenly put her hand over her mouth and gagged. Nothing actually came up, but it was close. To her relief, none of the other passengers seemed to have noticed the event. Clambering off the bus, it felt good to be in the fresh air, but she had to sit down on the bench for a minute. There was another wave of strong nausea, and she nearly heaved, but eventually she felt much better. Hopefully, the side effects were wearing off.

As she trudged past the daycare center, Alexis still felt OK, but when she was near the geography building the sick feeling returned with a vengeance. Looming up ahead was a service entrance, with a partly concealed corner. She was definitely about to be sick, she realized. Instinctively, she ducked around the corner, and leaned on the wall. She felt horrible.

There was a minute when nothing happened. Then Alexis experienced a deep sick sensation and bent further over. She heaved, and up came a big wet burp. There was a pause. She heaved again, and some watery saliva spilled out of her mouth. She moaned and waited. There was another gagging sensation, and this time a mouthful of watery vomit sloshed down onto the concrete. And that was it.

‘Hey Alexis. Is that you. Are you OK’.

When she looked over, Alexis found that it was her old friend Terri. The platinum blonde was even taller than she was, and they had been buddies since she had first arrived in Douglas.

‘Hi, Terri. Um, sorry about this’. She was referring to the small disk of vomit splatter at her feet. ‘It’s the meds I’m on … but they do not usually affect me this bad’.

‘Poor thing. How are you feeling now?’

‘Much better, now you ask’. Terri was doubtful, as her friend looked as white as a ghost.

‘How about I walk with you to the bathrooms at Student Services, it’s not far’. It was more like a command than a question.

The sick feeling was coming back again, and Alexis wearily agreed.

‘Here, give me your bag. That’s it. Now let’s go … that’s the way’.

The pair worked their way slowly across the plaza, approaching the broad sidewalk that led to the main Student Services building. They were making steady progress along the pavement, when Alexis suddenly felt extremely unwell.

Although Alexis had stopped dead, Terri was not paying close attention, and continued walking a few paces. It was at this point that Alexis felt a heave coming, and snapped forward, suddenly puking violently as she bent over. It made a splat sound.

The splat caused Terri to stop and turn around. There, on the sidewalk about five feet in front of Alexis’s shoes, was a circular puddle of vomit about the size of a dessert plate. After a moment of hesitation, Terri approached the crouching figure of her friend. She placed her hand gently on Alexis’s back, between her shoulders.

The feeling of a warm reassuring hand on her back did not help Alexis at this point. Although she had just thrown up, it was so quick she had not really felt much. It was just a sensation of a sort of jet of stuff that she had coughed up. But now there was a real feeling of an impending expulsion of stomach contents. Here it comes, she thought. Here it comes.

Before Terri had an opportunity to try giving Alexis a little back rub, she felt a shuddering under her hand. An explosion of vomit blurted out of her sick friend. There was a large and forceful outpouring, going all over the sidewalk, and then after a second or two, it stopped. As she shuffled back from the plentiful splatter, Terri was impressed by the size of the pile of puke.

‘Oh, that’s OK’, she cooed, ‘yes, just get it all up. That’s the idea’. She tried to sound reassuring, but part of her was freaking out, with there being so much fresh sick next to her. There was a pause. As her hand gave Alexis some comforting rubs on the back, she wondered if this was the time to try and get her to the bathrooms, or whether it was better to stay put for the moment. She pondered the question for a while, and then it happened.

When Alexis eventually opened her eyes, the vomit in front of her was a surprise. It had not felt like all that much coming up. As she breathed steadily, she tried hard not to stare at all the lumps of breakfast. The sick feeling was coming back again, despite her efforts to suppress it. Just breathe she thought, just breathe. It was no good, and before too long she felt a second big puke coming on.

Without any real warning, Alexis suddenly began to spew again. It was such a heave, and such a torrent of vomit, that it felt apocalyptic. There was a warm sloppy flood in her mouth that made her cheeks bulge. She was emptying herself onto the pavement. She was being comprehensively and massively sick, and it was going everywhere. Then it poured and dribbled to a conclusion, and she breathed again.

From Terri’s perspective, the second large puke was utterly revolting. The force of it cleared a void in the center of a greatly enlarged vomit pile. It made a loud rushing and splattering noise, and intensified the strong smell of rotting pineapple and old French perfume, and plain old-fashioned sick. One part of the pile was already leaking beige colored liquid. She desperately wanted to move on, but knew that it would be too soon.

After a short spell, Alexis tried to stand up straight. Unfortunately, this triggered another puke, and she returned to the crouching position, as a mouthful of sloppy stuff came up and splashed down. Then, after she caught her breath again, Alexis felt remarkably improved. Yes, she was feeling much better.

‘I feel better now’.

‘OK. Good. Let’s go’.

The platinum blonde carefully steered them away from all of the freshly sicked-up vomit, and they made their way. All went well, until moments after they pushed through the heavy swing door of the washrooms on the ground floor.

As they entered the bathroom, Alexis unexpectedly felt another heave come on. She barely had time to stagger towards the tiled wall. With one hand on the tiles and the other on her knee, she barfed-up a gush of liquid. It splashed on the floor. Myriad little chunks of matter spread across, in a lake of pale liquid, and the rotten smell of puke spread through the bathroom. It added to the existing stink of perfumed cleaning products.

For the next ten minutes, Terri stayed next to Alexis, while she periodically spat and dry retched into the toilet bowl. It was a relief for Alexis to have a friend there, to care for her in her time of need. She would have much preferred if it were Alicia, but Terri was more than acceptable. When it was all over, she even drove Alexis back to her place, and made sure that she was OK.

When Alicia found out what had happened, she was glad that Terri had been there, and guilty that she had not. Secretly, she was disappointed that there was no vomit photo, and also there was a shadow of an idea, that they might have a threesome with the tall blonde. Just a shadow of an idea, of course.

WARNING CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT

On Wednesday afternoon, Alexis walked around the corner from the bus stop, to their street. Just as she arrived at their small apartment block, Alicia pulled up in her car, back from the Courthouse where she worked as a clerk. There was a cuddle and a kiss, at the door of the apartment. It was not a long sloppy kiss with plenty of tongue, just a peck, and they were inside. They flopped down in the kitchen, which still smelled slightly of vomit, weeks after their Experiment.

‘How was the first day of paid Finals Supervision?’

‘Oh, you know. Oh! You just reminded me! Got something to show you’. She excitedly fumbled with her phone.

‘This was this afternoon. Look’. She pushed the phone across the kitchen table, and Alicia took a good look. The picture showed a pile of orange-white sick. Much of it was coating one side of the iron grill on a random drain. It had oblong gaps, where the chunks had gone down to the drain beneath.

‘OK … so this was today, then?’

‘This afternoon. At least that was when I stumbled on it, and took a sneaky picture’. Staring at the phone intently, Alicia seemed impressed.

‘Mmmm … you didn’t see the actual, er, event?’

‘No. It was near the bottom doors and I was up at the top doors for the start of the afternoon Exams. I only saw it because I had to escort another student on a pee break. Coffee?’

‘No, thanks’. She watched Alexis filling the electric jug in the small kitchen. ‘So do you know who threw up?’

‘Yeah, I think so. I remembered, near the start of the Exam. I happened to notice Terri with a girl, filling out an Incident Report’.

‘This girl …’ The query hung in the air while Alexis poured boiling water. She plonked her coffee mug on the table and resumed her seat.

‘She was a sweet looking thing, doing the Botany 101 paper. These freshers, they all look like twelve-year olds to me now. Hard to imagine such a petite girl producing that much hurlage’. She sipped her coffee.

‘So … you were escorting another student …’.

‘Um … yes, another fresher. Needed to use the rest room. As soon as we were out the bottom door I smelled it, and caught the briefest of glimpses. When I was taking her back in, I opened the door and pointed her to her desk, then I dashed out’.

‘Did you get into trouble?’

‘No, but I had to be quick. So, I zipped over to the drain, took the pic, and scuttled back inside before the fresher had even sat down. I could cover my tracks after that’.

‘You clever thing. So, the drain is near the big bottom doorway to the Concert Hall is it?’ I suppose that is where they have to wait to go in for their quizzes?’

‘Right you are. Poor things get so nervous. I have been invigilating for two full years now. Four seasons of Finals Exams. I have seen where they have been throwing up … trust me this is not the first. Just the first decent large one, outdoors. They are usually in the toilet stalls when they blow chunks at that level’. Alicia was still studying the phone.

‘It certainly is a beauty, Honey. High res, perfect focus, nicely framed so you can properly feel the size of the puke pile. Yes. High standard’.

The pair decided to order out for some Chinese. They carefully transferred the photo to the computer folder, and then the flash drive, and then they settled down to a few hours of gaming. It was an idle distraction, really just an excuse to snuggle close together on the couch. No matter which new game they started on, they inevitably ended up back on the same silly game. Like a more insane, retro version of Mario but faster. And with silly music.

It was not early when they went to bed, and both were tired, but as soon as they were between the sheets, they were all over each other. Their little battery powered friend joined in. The fucking was short, and intense. They came like wild things.

Later, they languidly stroked one another, and fell into a quiet conversation. It was another trip down memory lane.

‘Hey, Leesh, did you ever get sick, like that student today, from just nerves?’

‘Ha! My older sister did!’ Alexis had been stroking a shoulder, but now she was stroking a breast.

‘My sister, Paula, she would have been around 13 or 14, and I think was 9’.

‘Where was this?’

‘We were at our old place, in Port Sirius, and our school was doing a big show for everybody. All the big wigs. They had hired a theatre. Anyhow, we were both in it’. There was a reflective pause.

‘Didn’t know you could act’.

‘Can’t. I was the assistant to the assistant floor manager. But Paula was turning into a decent singer. Classical’.

‘Was that her first time on stage?’

‘More or less’. This was the cue for Alicia to ramble for ten minutes about how talented and shy her sister was, and how much she herself had enjoyed running errands backstage at rehearsals. Then she came to the event in question.

‘So, she was stressed out about performing?’

‘Yup. And to make things worse, we had both been sneaking little treats before the matinee from the party food that our parents had ordered for later, to celebrate’.

“Nerves and eating, is not a great combo’.

‘We were just not thinking. I believe Paula was eating because of the nervous energy, actually. Anyway, that was much earlier. The matinee was in the early stages, just a few acts in, and Paula was due on stage in about two or three acts time’.

‘And you happened to be there?’

‘Course. I was with her in the wings waiting. I was going to listen to her sing from behind the wings. There was plenty of space there, backstage’. She went off on another tangent, about how large the theatre was, and the big crowd of people in the audience. She was rambling.

‘What about the stress-puking’.

‘It just happened out of nowhere. We were there, in the back part of the wings stage left, and with no warning, Paula just leaned forward and projectile vomited on the floor’. There was a pause.

Her memories had become so triggered that Alicia was taken back, in her imagination, to the very moment. How unwell her sister had looked, moments before … she relished the moments prior to the event. But it must have been so disappointing for Pula. But it was a moment which she would never forget.

From Paula’s perspective, things had been a little anxious ten minutes ago, and now things were mega-mega-stressful. She was trying not to sway, as she stood there in the wings. Her gaze rested on the sheet music which her teacher, who was to accompany her, had ready on the floor by the stage piano.

Her stage costume made Paula self-conscious, adding to the anxiety. It had seemed a good idea to dress up in the dirndl costume from Oktoberfest, as she was to sing a German Lieder. She was not merely stressed, she also felt really sick. In fact, Paula suddenly began to feel especially sick.

This was the point when it all went sideways for her. Almost without thinking, she swayed forward, just as a thick plume of vomit erupted out of her, inundating the floor. As she had begun to bend over, she felt her abdomen going into a tight spasm, and a simultaneous surge. After the warm liquid started to gush explosively, she could feel it pouring through her, and some lumpy bits as they left her gaping mouth.

Almost as soon as she opened her eyes, and saw the puddle of sick, and realized it was hers, Paula experienced a second huge projectile vomit. This one was much bigger in volume. It landed next to the first one, with some big splashes, and then she felt better. She recovered from the second hurl, after a few last mouthfuls of vomit retched their way up. They took her and her sister home after that. No Lieder.

From the point of view of Alicia, standing nearby, Paula had looked lovely in her costume, but now she seemed peaky. Pale, and likely not at all well. Why was she swaying like that? Something seemed to be wrong. Very wrong. And then it had all happened right in front of where she was. There was nobody else on their side of the stage, at that moment. She was the only eye-witness.

The first thing which met her gaze, was bulging cheeks. This was just when Paula had jolted forward unexpectedly, after swaying. Immediately, the whole space in front of her sister’s face went blurry yellow, as her lunch began exploding everywhere. It made a watery ralphing sound. Moments later, the floor space seemed to explode, as splatter went everywhere. And it was over.

In the time-dilated span which now followed, Alicia was able to study the chaos of vomit. Apart from some long rays of splat, it was mostly a crazy jumble of mounds of sick, making a rough circle. The puke looked like chunky soup. Mostly it was white and yellow mush. You could clearly see particles, and in amongst it all, were bigger lumps and chunky pieces.

Suddenly, Paula, who looked so cute in her German costume, bent forward and threw up massively. The second outpouring landed just off to the side of the existing puddle of vomit. It lasted longer, and much of it projectiled out in an arc of upchuck. It was blatantly yellow. Coming out, it had an aggressive, masculine flavor. It was thrusting, at that point. Thrusting vomit.

The pile of barf was now dominated by a long mound of lumpy spew. The noise as it roared out, and hit the floor audibly, she would never forget. Nor would she forget the look of all the vomit, or the sweet odour. A bit like pineapple. All these things were burned into the mind of her nine-year-old-self, who was already beginning to develop an obsession.

Years later, when puberty had hit Alicia hard, these images from this time, were woven into her first sexual fantasies. Now, as Alicia was telling the stress-puke story in bed, the memories of the images getting her off as a teenager, were doing the same thing. Halfway through every sentence she would stop, and guide Alexis’s hand towards her vag. Then, Alicia would reposition her hand, and command her to finish the sentence.

By the time Alicia did finally get to describing the final glories of the second projectile vomit, Alexis had given up, and they were on the brink of fucking again. It would be a late night for the couple.

***

The following Monday, just as she was finishing at work, Alicia’s phone went off. It was Alexis.

‘Hey Babe’.

‘Hi. Can you come and pick me up. I am in town, on East Hill’. She gave the address.

‘What are you doing there, Sweetie?’

‘I’ll explain everything … just wait until you hear what happened’. The cryptic hint hung in the air, as she picked up her keys and left the Courthouse.

It was a fairly typical apartment block, of the type rented out to students. When the door opened, it was a very tall blonde student who she did not recognize. She smiled.

‘You must be Alexis’s friend. I’m Anna. Come in’. In the kitchen-living area, at the table there, Alexis was chatting with a young-looking brunette. They had mugs of camomile tea.

‘Oh, hey, Alicia. You met Anna. And this is Erica, who I have been … um … helping out’.

‘Oh, more than helping out. She saved me, and got me home’. This was beginning to tweak Alicia’s curiosity about this cute young student. And then there was Alexis, giving conspiratorial glances. Something was up.

‘Really, how interesting. I take it something … happened …’ She let the idea fade away. There was a brief pause.

‘She threw up’.

‘Yes, it’s true. I vomited. Everywhere. It was just … so messy … but the stress levels’. The bubbly brunette seemed fine now. After a brief conversation, the two said goodbye and headed for the car. As soon as they were at their own kitchen table, Alexis held up her phone.

‘How’s that!’ When Alicia saw the image, she drew a quick breath. ‘Holy fuck! What a beauty’. It was a picture of a pinkish puddle of lumpy vomit, piled on some maroon-red tiles. It looked big.

‘You have to tell me everything. The whole lot, the works’. And so she did.

The afternoon session had not been going for long, when Alexis noticed one of the Psychology 100 students put up their hand. She put away the lists which she had just finished checking, and went over to a row of small desks in the middle of the Concert Hall. It was Erica. She leaned down, and whispered.

‘Can I help you’. The young brunette was very pale looking.

‘Um … I need to go out for some fresh air’. Then she sat up higher and whispered into Alexis’s ear. ‘I think I’m going to be sick’. When Erica said the words, she was not sure, but it seemed likely that she was going to end up puking. She could feel it.

‘Come with me.’ As she watched Erica slowly rise from her chair, Alexis wondered if this was one of many false alarms which she had seen. She beckoned the ashen fresher to follow her, and they went past the tables where others were working desperately on the fiendishly difficult Psych 100 quiz. It was way too far to use the main doors, so she guided her woozy student to the bottom doors. Best to get her outside as quickly as possible.

‘I think I might be going to barf’.

They were just outside, not too far from the grate where Alexis had seen all the vomit. As they were approaching the short set of outside stairs which led up to the Fountain Courtyard, near the main doors, they had to stop for an interval, while Erica leaned forward. There was a silent pause, as Alexis wondered if there was going to be an upchuck.

After giving a small groan, Erica gagged, and then spat out some thick saliva. There was another silence, then she heaved and once again, nothing except some spit. She stood back up, swallowed hard, gave a nod, and then they went up the stairs.

‘I thought I was definitely about to hurl just then’.

As they reached the Courtyard, with its lame ornamental fountain, Erica was feeling like crap. She had stress puked once before, at an airport terminal. This felt the same.

When they were near the fountain, Alex noticed that her sick charge was slowing down. She looked so unwell. Now she was stopping in the middle of the paved area, with its reddish tiles. She was about to ask Erica if she was OK, when the girl went into a low crouch. Would it be yet another false alarm?

As the fountain went in and out of focus, all Erica could think of was the time she had thrown up at the airport. Now it was even worse, because she was well fed. The stress had not reduced her appetite, and even encouraged her to dig out extra nibbles, for some distracting munching. The strawberry thick shake had definitely been a mistake. Now it all wanted to get out of her in a hurry. 

When the deep sick feeling hit, it was part torture, and part relief, that the situation was about to come to a head. She went into a low crouch, carefully placing her hands on her knees as she bent forward. The sick feeling was much worse. Then she went into a wrenching body heave. She gagged up a bit of fluid, and a lump or two.

When Erica shook, and spat out a half-mouthful of watery vomit, Alexis was suspicious. She had seen this kind of thing several times, during these past two years of supervision gigs. There would be a lot of drama, for very little result. There was a small splat of pink-white sick. Erica was gagging again. She felt sorry for the student, and was about to give her an encouraging pat on the shoulder, when it happened.

After the first puke, Erica was breathing heavily. A constant stream of watery saliva was drenching her mouth, and dripping from her bottom lip. She dry-retched. There was more watery saliva. She swallowed the salty saliva back down. This caused a very deep sick feeling, and then everything went black for a second, as she projectile vomited.

Just as Alexis was reaching out to comfort Erica from her position just behind the unwell student, the outpouring began. She was almost next to her. She saw Erica’s cheeks bulge, then a torrent of white liquid burst forth. The rushing and splashing noises were followed by the appearance of a puddle of pink-white sick where she was bent over.

As the surge of warm liquid leaving her body turned into a lumpy trickle, Erica opened her eyes. Vomit was everywhere. The shallow puke puddle was circular. There was a great deal of splatter, and it was pinkish-white. This suddenly reminded her of the thick shake, and she heaved again, but with little result. She spat out some chunks. She was feeling very sick again, as Alexis rubbed the top of her back up and down.

‘You’re doing well there. Get it all up’.

After what felt like hours, the sick sensation suddenly deepened dramatically, and Erica drew in a lungful. A split second later, she felt as if her entire body was turning inside-out, as she unleashed a massive projectile vomit.

What Alexis witnessed, was bulging cheeks and an explosion of puke, which became a surge of chaotic barf. The pale sick kept coming. Now it was arching down into the vomit puddle in a thick stream of liquid. When it reached the tiled courtyard, it turned into a rapidly growing jumble of lumpy sick. Then, it suddenly increased, for one final watery blast.

As the last mouthfuls of spew gushed down, Erica did not think that she could hold her breath any longer. It finally ended, and she gasped for oxygen. Opening her eyes, she was shocked by the amount of fresh vomit she could see. The pinkish puddle was enormous, and in it were random piles and floes of pale chunks. The round void in the middle of the huge mess, was filling with stomach juices as she gazed down.

Some distant bystanders were staring at the action near the fountain. So was Alexis. One of the onlookers had their phone out, and Alexis wished that she had thought to try and film the episode. Maybe not. It would have been a bad look, for her to be filming while she was supposed to be helping. She could always get discrete pics later.

As Erica retched up a final mouthful of dribble, making little craters in the top of the main mound of lumpy slop, Alexis surveyed the damage.

The puddle of pinkish vomit had been changed into an elongated pile, with a large halo of splash. It was at least two inches thick in the main part. So much sick. The initial violent surge had pushed the far side of the heap forward, and there was much liquid and solid blurtage. It was everywhere.

An intense fresh puke smell was present now, and as soon as she was recovered, Erica wanted to be away from the embarrassing puddle. That second big puke seemed to have fixed things, and she was much better. Or so it seemed.

As the edge of the puke mound began to leak fluid on the tiles, the pair slowly made their way onwards. They were nearly at the doorway into the washrooms, when things went pukey again. As she half turned towards the wall, Alexis carefully moved Erica’s hair out of the way. Leaning forward, Erica felt a shudder as she threw up a few more mouthfuls. The vomit went smearing down the wall, pooling at the bottom in a set of overlapping small pinkish splatter piles. Then she was OK again. It had been so sudden.

The exam was in its later stages when the pair emerged from the washrooms, where Erica had been throwing up repeatedly. As they walked past the fountain, Erica took one look at the pile of barf, and stopped dead. While she was gagging and puking up more watery mouthfuls, Alexis was sneaking photos of the big splat. Then she went over to Erica.

‘Are you finished. Poor thing’.

‘Yes. This time for sure’.

‘For sure?’

‘Yup’.

‘When we get back inside, we will have to be very quiet. Is that OK?’

Back at the exam venue, things were winding up. It would be STOP WRITING soon. The pair silently filled out the Incident Report, and collected Erica’s backpack. Outside the doorway, Alexis felt strangely motherly.

‘How will you get home?’

‘Oh … get the bus I suppose, I don’t feel up to driving my car …’ There was a moment of silence.

‘Well … as long as it is not a manual, I can drive you home. Just wait here while I do a couple of things. Back soon’.

After Alexis fixed things up with Terri, the boss supervisor, and scooped up her bag, she returned to Erica. They headed toward the parking lot.

‘And that, my dear, is how we ended up at the apartment where you picked me up’. With one large hand on Alicia’s lovely breast, Alexis nuzzled close. They were in the kitchen when the tale began to unfold, but after numerous interruptions of a salacious kind, Alicia had dragged her to the bedroom. She was still awkwardly clutching the phone, with the image of all the vomit on the reddish tiles, when they were undressing. Now they were between the sheets, alternating between stress puke descriptions, and hard sex.

The final straw was when Alexis mentioned her conversation with Terri, not long after she started the gig for these Finals. It was a story Terri told, about her only really close-up projectile vomiting event. Re-telling the incident of the stressed-out student almost hurling on stairs, then just making it outside with Terri at her elbow, was turning them both on so much, they had to stop several times.

WARNING: OVER 18 ONLY SEX SCENES

As she stared up at the sign saying ANNUAL UNIVERSITY WOMEN’S SPORT AWARDS, Alexis prepared herself for a well-paid 7-hour shift of serving and general hospitality. It was a good job, even if it was only one-off. When she arrived there at 6.45 in the evening, the kitchen was booming and guests were arriving in hordes. She was not afraid of hard work, and Alexis looked forward to the social side of the gig.

The venue for the awards night was the Old Mill at Sandy River, a historic town just ten minutes’ drive from Douglas itself. The heritage building had been renovated, and turned into a function center, with two large spaces for guests to use. They mostly did wedding receptions.

Just after 9:30 that night, back at their place, Alicia received a text from her partner at Sandy River. It said ‘check this’ and there was a photo of a small table awash with freshly puked-up vomit. Not bad, she thought, as she saved the picture of lumpy sick. Her partner’s serving gig had some perks. Or was it pukes.

Although she was rushed off her feet, Alexis did take some moments to send the picture to Alicia, and to admire the vomit. Not even 10, and already … this! In fact, Alexis had spent the past hour clearing away the remains of the dinner, in the adjoining room, while the players were rowdily enjoying the first part of the speeches and prizes.

At one point, she overheard the conversation of the pair who were running the bar. The cheap champagne substitute was down to the final case, and they were also near to running out of mixers. Somebody had put up a big sign with sports-themed cocktails. They were proving to be extremely popular.

It had happened so suddenly. When Sara, the other one clearing away, mentioned to her that one of the players was being sick, she quickly and discretely made her way to the big room. It was arranged as a cabaret, with a stage, and many small circular tables with seating around them. Just after Alexis spotted the table with the small pile of vomit, she saw a dark-haired member of the top basketball team lean forward. She gushed fully across the table, then sat up, wobbled, and threw up again, all across the table. Chunks were piled high, and some mounds of the mostly yellow puke were slowly falling over the edges of the table, to the floor below. She did the photo and hastily went back to work.

‘Where did you get to?’

‘Oh … nowhere … just checking’.

From that time on, Alexis knew that there was likely to be more barfing happening. When she needed to take a toilet break at about 11:30, the scene in the compact washroom was messy, in a very random way. One player had hurled liquidly into the second handbasin, almost filling it. Another had missed the toilet, and blanketed the floor in large amounts of lumpy sick. Finally, somebody had been tremendously ill on the tiles next to the doorway. The vomit puddle was wide and splashy, smelling of sick and cheap wine.

Eventually, all of the players left, many clutching trophies, and a number of them were almost incapable of walking. These athletes certainly knew how to have a good time. And how to drink. Yes, they knew how to drink.

Just after 2 in the morning, Alicia’s phone went off.

‘Hi Gorgeous, how was work’.

‘OK. Can you come and pick me up, please. Oh, and come inside when you get here, got something to show you.’

‘Fine. Going now, see you in ten’.

Twenty minutes later, Alicia was knocking on the main door. Alexis unlocked it and let her in. Most of the staff were gone, just a few remained to complete the final chores. The cleaners would be along in a few hours, with much to do.

‘Come with me, my Lovely’. Alexis led her adorable girlfriend to the bathroom, where there was now even more vomit. The sink had overflowed.

Eventually, following the taking of a few pictures with Alicia’s phone, Alexis gathered her things, and they went out into the bracing spring night. Alicia stopped dead, as they were approaching her car. Something was on her mind.

‘Hey, Lexie, doesn’t this place have a back alleyway?’

‘Yes, actually it does’. She suddenly realized what Alicia was getting at.

‘Yes, it does indeed! This way … lets go’.

When the pair arrived at the alley, there was a light over the back door of the Old Mill, and another brighter light further along. Next to the step at the doorway, up against the ancient brick wall, there was a substantial puddle of pale orange puke, much of it piled up against the bricks. It smelled of sick and stale sparkling wine.

‘There, result! Come on, Lexie, lets get a closer look’. They took some close-up pictures of the upchuck, and it was making them feel aroused. They snuggled close, and Alexis could feel Alicia’s hands all over her butt. She instinctively grabbed a tit and gave it a gentle squeeze. So soft. Then she noticed something.

‘Look. Another one!’

They curtailed their amorous activities, and walked along, past the back door, towards the big pool of bright light. There they were.

Somebody had been very sick, at least twice, which is to say, there were two puddles of barf. The twin pools of sick were close together, and the larger one was piled high. The whole of the asphalt around the vomit puddles, was like a wet watery slick. The two vomits were fresh, no more than one hour old.

There was something about the smell.

‘Oh, GOD. I am feeling so fucking horny just now’.

Alexis let her hands do the talking. She … stopped. Was there anybody here? She quickly glanced around. Over her shoulder. Nope. It was just her, her girl, and two fresh vomits.

A minute of torrid love-making went past in a blink of an eye, and Alexis had the advantage, of having actually seen a hot wasted sporty girl puking her guts everywhere, earlier in the night. Then there was the bathroom. The bathroom … well they had both seen what was in there. Poor cleaners!

‘Hey Alexis, we need to get home. Right away OK. Gonna fuck your brains out, Baby’.

And that was it. The pair briskly returned to the car, enjoyed a short grope, drove home, and scampered for the big bed. A half hour later, in the middle of the hot frenetic sex, there was some pillow talk. Each had her fingers deep inside the other, when Alexis blurted out of nowhere:

‘I keep seeing the bathroom’.

‘Yes. Yes. The Bathroom!!’

‘So much … oohhhh … so much … ahhh … so much puke …’

‘So much PUKE!!!!’

‘The vomit next to the toilet!’

‘’The vomit next to the door!!”

‘NO, the Toilet’.

‘NO, the Door’.

‘The TOILETT!!!!’

‘DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!’

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

There was nothing after that. For a while.

Much later, as Alexis and Alicia spooned, and drifted in and out of contented slumber, Alicia muttered something into her partner’s ear.

‘What was that, again, Sweetie’.

Alicia nuzzled into Alexis’s shoulder. ‘I just said look at the effects of alcohol’. Was it a random observation, a comment on the social policies, or a sideways reference to all the pools of vomit at the Old Mill. Before she could think about it, Alexis drifted off, into the embrace of Morpheus. As did Alicia.

Next morning, both of them had come awake with almost the exact same thoughts. The first to speak was Alexis.

‘I had the funniest idea. Just now, I thought what if one of us … oh, no its really not a good idea …’

‘I am sure it was a very good idea, because I had it too. One of us gets the other one ludicrously, ridiculously, shamefully drunk … and … well that is about as far as …’

‘No, that is the exact same idea. No way! Exactly the same. The caretaker gets the sickie really wasted, drags her to the cement out the back, and she vomits. Lots. Preferably lots, and lots’.

‘Um … that is not precisely what I had … actually it sounds fucking great. Yeah! But the resulting vomit, or vomits, will be sacred. Not to be interfered with in ANY WAY, before I photograph them.’

‘Yeah … assuming you are the sober one’.

There was a momentary silence. Alicia then pulled a quarter out of her pocket. ‘Call’.

‘Tails.’

There was a glimmer, as an incoming ray of sunlight caught the spinning coin.

‘Oh crap … tails it is’. Alexis broke into a beaming grin, and sang a bar of Mexican music, then shouted:

‘Tequila!!”

Being a Sunday, with Alicia working the next day, they decided that the next Friday night would be the time for the alcohol experiment. As the day slowly approached, the inspiration from the sporting awards drinkers and their misadventures was still strong. The pair had taken the experiment seriously, and none more so than Alicia. She wanted to organize the whole affair, down to the most minute details.

‘Hey, Lexie, could you check these numbers with me’.

Sidling next to her, Alexis bent over and examined the phone. Her math was pretty good, possibly because her Dad was an accountant. ‘Looks OK. What is it though’.

‘This, is my exact body weight, this is the exact amount of alcohol per shot, and this is the amount per kilo you hit to get clinical poisoning’.

‘Wow, Leesh, impressive! So … don’t leave me hanging … how many shots.’

The number was a lot more than Alexis had anticipated. ‘You’re bound to lose your dinner way before you do that many shots. I think. I hope’. They laughed.

Friday itself was a brilliant sunny day in the middle of springtime. Fruit trees all around the town were heavy with blossom. Alicia had returned early from work. The dinner she planned for herself was not Mexican at all, but was calculated to come up easily. It consisted largely of plain cheese quiche, with a few sweet nibbles for dessert. The correct amount was assessed. Then there was a planned gap of precisely two hours and twenty-five minutes to get the right amount of digestion. Then shots, puke, job done.

Alexis found all of this highly amusing, and went along with it, happy that she was not the one looking forward to the mother of all hangovers. The meal went off as planned, and the clock started ticking.

However, at about the 90-minute mark, the wheels began to fall off.

After demolishing half of her second cheeseburger, Alex was idly consuming some of the sweet jam tarts which were sitting there. Deciding that she needed a treat for getting to the 90-minute mark, Alicia began to eat a tart. Then a couple more. Then some more. Then the other half of the burger.

‘Oh screw it!! Give me the first shot!!’

Three shots later, she decided to stop and resume the wait. She was starting to get a bit tipsy. It felt really, really nice.

While she was waiting, Alicia found that the shots were slowly weaving their magic, giving her a warm inner glow, so to speak. Feeling thirsty, she poured out a tall tumbler of water to sip. By the time the 2:20 time limit arrived, the glass was empty and Alicia was ready. Ready to drink. To booze. To quaff. To shamelessly guzzle.

‘Give me a drink!’

One after the other, the little red plastic shot glasses disappeared. At number 7, the rate slowed down considerably, and after 11 it stopped. Then, for half an hour, she just sat there, scrolling now and then on her phone. Nothing happened. She was out of it. Then, suddenly she sat back up again, eyes wide open and bloodshot.

‘More drinks! Must have! More drinks!’

After each shot Alicia slammed away, she spent about ten minutes trying to remember who she was, and what she was doing. It was the mission of Alexis to steer her back towards the shots. They were still only in the early section of shots. Less than twenty. After telling her over and over how much she loved her, Alicia was now crying about something she could not explain coherently. She went quiet, nodded off, then grabbed another shot glass. It was hard to focus.

Alicia tried to put down the mostly empty shot glass, and missed. It fell to the floor of the kitchen. She stared down for about a minute, then caught her girlfriend’s eye.

‘Hey Lexie … Lexie … better go out … outside … now …’. It was suddenly obvious that puking was imminent. It was panic time.

There was a scurry, as Alexis struggled to get her highly inebriated girlfriend out of the kitchen chair. When she finally did have her up on her feet, Alicia lost control and staggered towards the bread box. She gripped the counter edge tight, swayed twice, and then she promptly vomited everywhere.

From her position just next to Alicia, Alexis saw the spectacle up close, and it was dynamic. The throwing up itself was graceful, in its own revolting way. Her mouth just fell open, and a wave of vomit surged and gushed in a wide V shape, all over the kitchen counter top, and up against the bread box. It made a sloppy rushing noise, and then it was over.

All was still … for about three seconds, and Alexis surveyed the result. It was dominated by a massive heap of nearly white chunky stuff. Much of the central area of the bench was flooded with a deep pool of alcohol and clear digestive juices. Behind it, there was the broad and deep drift of yellow-white puke. Drunk as a skunk, the adorable brunette had one of her tits out.

The mountain range of vomit seemed to mainly consist of the largely digested quiche, which was a light quiche, and must have been afloat on top of all of the shots in her stomach. There was added consistency and aroma, from the jammy cookies she had scoffed, and the half hamburger, also. There were some extremely chunky-looking quiche chunks scattered here and there, on the wet counter.

Before Alexis had a chance to observe any more, her drunk girlfriend with the tit out, half turned, stooped, and while swaying sideways, emptied another large portion of her stomach contents. Alicia puked so heavily, that it sounded like a low splashy growl. There was now a massive blast of vomit all across the floor. There was more solid stuff this time, but still, plenty of alcohol and digestive juice, in a series of clear pools in the central part of the wide arc of sick. It was ample.

‘OK, that’s finished. Here we go. That’s right, come here with me’. She knew that Alicia could blow again at any second. ‘Down the hallway to the back door, OK’. They were doing well at first, considering that Alicia was surprisingly heavy, and had to be practically carried along. Near the back door things suddenly changed. Alicia stopped, and gripped her hand tightly.

‘Oohhh I think … I think I’m gonna … I think I’m gonna … gonna …’

That was all she said. She was breathing heavily, and then she gagged. Alexis braced herself, but to her surprise, nothing came up. Then a few seconds later, throw up started to pour down to the floor below, in small bursts. The blurty ribbons of lumpy sick cascaded down continuously. A pile was building. After stopping for air, she started to throw up again, and another, broader, pouring of barf sped down. Now it was splattering a lot, and piling up.

Eventually Alexis dragged tequila girl out to the cement, where there was a chair which had been placed deliberately in the middle of the space. Almost as soon as she was seated, Alicia was bent forward puking again. Repeatedly. Now there was no real separation between the liquid and the slop. The vomit kept happening, and pouring, and dribbling, and accumulating. It seemed that every time Alicia tried to say something, she heaved and threw up again.

It took the best part of twenty minutes for drunk Alicia to finish ralphing up her dinner onto the cement slab at the rear of their block. Fortunately, there was only one witness. Or perhaps two, if Alexis’s phone were to be included. Some of the heaves were sploshy and splattery, while others were mere dribbles. But either way, they were frequent, interspersed with much incoherent chatter, random laughter, and a few drunken tears.

The cement which took the brunt of the drunk vomiting, was affected for three yards across with splashed liquid, which had formed a continuous wet patch. Within the dark wet patch, there was a circle of splatter, and within the splatter, was a hollow mound of classic vomit. It looked a lot like yellow oatmeal. It had a perfectly round dip in the centre, where the force of gravity had created a hole in the mound of sick.

Her plan was to get Alicia back inside, and put her to bed with a bucket and hope for the best. First thing was hydration. She tapped her drunk girlfriend on the shoulder.

‘Here you go, Honey. Get some of this water inside you’. It was way past midnight.

About half an hour later, after several false starts, Alexis heaved Alicia past the leaky pile of vomit in the hallway, and all the way to the to the kitchen. At this point, the bottle of water and assorted chunks, came back up violently all over the kitchen floor. This vomit was all over a different part of floor, from the second of the two big barfs. More mess to clean up. She glanced across at the bread box … there was so much vomit everywhere … but it was in all the wrong places.

While Alicia was starting to sleep it off, Alexis took a few dozen photos of the puke all over the kitchen and hall, then slaved away, cleaning it all up. She did not get to bed until nearly 3, and found Alicia fast asleep with vomit on the pillow, and the bucket pristine and unused. She was snoring, and did not wake up, even when Alexis switched pillows.

That night, Alexis slept on the floor next to her side of the bed. She was barely awake at 9 that morning, when Alicia woke up hungover, and then threw up twice into the bucket. There was much groaning and moaning, and each heave produced a mouthful of warm watery beige sick.

Saturday was spent doing two things. The first was managing Alicia’s massive hangover and delicate stomach. The second, was helping Alicia get it together, to photograph the puke on the concrete, so she could hose it off, before one of the neighbours did. At the end of the day, they snuggled on the couch, and reflected on the experiment.

‘I have never been so hammered in my life’.

‘You were wasted alright. Not much more than than half a bottle of tequila and you were gone’.

‘I thought the photos you took in the kitchen were great, by the way’.

They both quietly reflected on the pictures now on the computer, in a new folder called Experiment.

‘I really liked your macro photos, of the concrete just before I hosed it. Especially that second picture. The little particles of sick piled up like that. Wonderful’.

It had to be admitted that the kitchen ones were the best, both the drift of sloppy chunks next to the bread box, and the bold splash of puke across the kitchen floor. Both were impressive masses of vomit. The pile of sick outside was nearly as good, but not quite. It had lots and lots of splatter, but was not a monster like the others. The same was true of the one in the hallway next to the back door.

‘I think if we did it differently, I would be already sitting out the back when I was up to shot seven or so. Can you imagine how big the puke would have been if … oh well, no point wondering how it might have been’. Alexis wanted to keep it positive, after some thought, and she adopted her best art critic voice.

‘I blame it on the alcohol. Actually, by complete accident I think you created a pair of highly visually pleasing vomit piles. Really, I do’.