Moaningful Confessions | Is the gag reflex mental? No, here’s the proof

Moaningful Confessions | Is the gag reflex mental? No, here’s the proof

I had moved into a flat after living with my ex whose name for the story shall be Luke. My flattie and I were downing gin and juice while playing board games having a grand ol’ time. Once she carked it in bed, I thought “this is a perfect opportunity to sneak around to my ex’s house”. 

Before dipping the flat to go get some, I dressed myself up in some black lace lingerie, a set Luke’s eyes had never seen before. I was getting anxious that I shouldn’t be going back to him, so I smashed back more gin to be a confident sexy woman. 

Fast-forward: being picked up and on top of Luke, things were pretty heated. I was giving the best top Luke had ever received. He was moaning, holding my hair and I just kept sucking, ignoring my concerned gin stomach. I was reaching new heights of how far I could fit his shlong down my throat. I felt an uh oh gag so stopped slobbering real quick, had a quick few breaths before Luke gave me a slap on the butt and went at it, doggie style. Many positions, speeds and slaps later, Luke came. 

He had a shower and I smoked some bongs, felt mean. Then, drunk ‘n high me thought it was a perfect time for round two. As soon as Luke stepped in the room I made him hard then went in for some more sloppy toppy. He was holding my head down and I felt like a porn star. His dick was well down my throat when I started to gag. 

I had forgotten the fundamental rule: “beer before bong you’re in the wrong”. I didn’t know what to do. My stomach started to turn so I tried to ignore it by continuing giving head. He was going at it because he was surprised how much my mouth could take. That’s when he came. I was able to handle the gags but when you get a cumshot to the gag reflex while you’re struggling to keep down God knows how much gin down, it doesn’t go well. I reached for the open bedroom window where my stomach lining emptied. I threw up all the food from that day, the gin, his cum and my sanity. 

After the vom came to an end I had a phat shower and embarrassingly snuggled into bed. Luke, please stop calling me if you read this. We ain’t getting back together.

This article first appeared in Issue 19, 2021.
Posted 2:39pm Monday 16th August 2021 by Critic.