Could I ask for a fic with a sick and pukey Damara being (unwillingly) taken care of by Rufioh?
Win Her Back
“Damn, doll. Your tummy sounds hella mad at ya,” Rufioh reached to touch Damara’s belly under her shirt. She slapped his hand away and hiccupped,
“Don’t touch me, cheating cow,”
“Oh, come on babe. I wanted to break up with you first, I just didn’t know how. But, then I changed my mind! I love you!”
“Let me take you to the load gaper,” Rufioh suggested, taking her by her wrist. “I think you’ll feel better if you just-“ Rufioh was cut off by the inevitable. Damara puked, and it ended up all over him. It almost seemed like she purposefully tried to get as much on him as she could. Rufioh caught a glance of her teary eyes as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was so weak right now…Rufioh realized that he was now given a chance to pamper her without too much argument. He knew that he needed something like this to happen to win her back.
“Oh, that’s cool,” said Rufioh. “As long as that shit’s out of your stomach. So, how do you feel about taking a shower together to clean up? I know neither of us wants to sit around and wait while covered in puke. Come on, there’ll be no funny business. Unless you want there to be,” Damara was annoyed with the wink at the end of his last comment and considered forcing him to wait for her to shower first. It could be nice to take her time and let him suffer. But, then again, she could also make him was her hair out if they showered together. She didn’t want to touch the vomit in it.
“You wash my pretty hair,” she ordered.
“Of course!” Rufioh nodded quickly. “That was the plan,”
“Now, carry me. Slut,” Rufioh picked up his ex-matesprit and gingerly sat her down on top of the sink. She judgmentally watched as he undressed and turned on the shower. He then moved on to help Damara out of her clothes. She was more beautiful than ever, and as he guessed, wasn’t wearing any panties. He led her down from the sink so he could massage her scalp under the warm water.
“Slave,” Damara moaned.
~~~
Rufioh tucked Damara in under a quilt on the couch. She looked really comfy, so he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself. He was determined to win her back.
“Need anything else, doll?”
“Rub my feet, horse fucker,” Damara raised a foot out from under the quilt and wiggled her toes. Rufioh got to work.
“Oh, sweetie. Your feet are still cold. You poor girl. Here, let me feel for your temp,” Rufioh stop massaging her foot to feel her forehead and pouted. “Ah, yeah…damn, you do have a fever,”
“Big surprise. I puke guts on dumb boy and he can’t guess I sick,”
“I figured that you were sick, Damara,” Rufioh gently touched her cheek. “Can’t I fawn over you?”
“Bowing would be nice,” Damara scoffed. “You hurt me worse than sickness,”
“I know I did, and I am so sorry. I WILL repay you,”
“You only repay me so I fuck you again,”
“No, doll! I love you!”
“Shut up. You make me want gag again. Go back to feet,” Rufioh closed his mouth and retreated back to the foot massage.
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