It Happened to Me!

I have lived an embarrassing life.

Some would call me clumsy, or accident-prone, or even generally unlucky. I once missed school because I somehow managed to lock myself in the garage. Another time I jumped up to greet a friend who had walked into the classroom and my skirt hit the floor and the whole class saw me in my underwear. On snowy days, I pretty much just resigned myself to one huge, ass-in-the-air, wipe-out fall in a crowded public area.

Luckily, over the years I’ve learned to laugh at the fact that I get myself into odd and unexpected mishaps, and that my height and general lack of grace means I fall down more than the female lead in a romantic comedy. But back then I was suffering from the period of intense self-consciousness known as adolescence, when like, ohmygod, everyone was totally noticing every stupid thing I did.

Between acne and braces and puberty and growth spurts and the stupid clothes they wear, let’s face it, teenagers walk around looking like some kind of weird creatures. The only thing more embarrassing than being a teenager is having sex as a teenager. Your painful awkwardness and the general awkwardness of recently discovered sexuality merge into a snowballing awkwardness supernova that can only end badly. That’s why teen magazines are filled with all those “It Happened to Me” horror stories of like, kissing a boy and farting, or a maxipad falling out of your bag in front of your crush. So it’s unfortunate that the single most embarrassing incident of my life took place both during that time period, and with no clothes on.

I was 16 or 17 and dating the boy to whom I would later be briefly engaged. (That’s how we do where I’m from; I’m currently the oldest unmarried female in my family.) We had just spent an enjoyable afternoon at the Chinese buffet and had retired to his boudoir for a little post-lunch nookie. He sat on the floor, leaning against his bed, and I was on my knees between his legs giving him a blowjob. He was minimally endowed which made him easy to deep throat, so I was doing so with gusto. What happened next still makes me feel the horrifying pang of the suddenly embarrassing.

I threw up, ya’ll.

I threw up ON HIS DICK.

I’m still not sure how it happened. I wasn’t feeling sick, and I don’t remember any warning signs. One second I was sucking dick, and the next I was vomiting into his crotch.

The worst part is that for a few horrible seconds after my gag reflex was activated, I knew what had happened but he didn’t. He was leaning back against the bed in enjoyment, with my head blocking the view. Whatever he felt must not have been different enough from the feel of my dribbling saliva to cause any alarm. So I was all alone, frozen in panic with the horrible knowledge that in mere seconds this guy was going to know that I had just puked all over his cock.

Of course, there’s nothing like a girl frozen in fear with her face inches from your erect penis like a deer caught in your testicle headlights to get your attention. It wasn’t long before he asked, “What happened?” in a tone of awakening alarm I haven’t heard duplicated since.

“I guess…I was sick…” I lamed, as we both looked at the foamy white vomit currently settling into his pubes. Not to ruin the fantasy, but I have gagged a little giving head many times. And during those times, I MAY have puked just the littlest tiny bit and swallowed it back down without ever alerting the blowjobee to what had happened. But this was no minor incident. His entire crotch was now covered in a substance with the consistency of cottage cheese. Desperate to undo the damage, I grabbed a nearby towel and started mopping puke out of his ass-crack. Incidentally, that may be the least romantic sentence ever written. Only my lack of a viable source of income kept me from just running out of the room and starting a new life somewhere. I can’t really even remember what we said after that, so noisy is this recollection with the thundering sound of my own humiliation.

The weird thing is we totally dated for like 2 more years after that. And in retrospect, maybe I should have sent that one into YM.