Not the most romantic point of my life...
It was fairly early on at that fateful teenage party when I, a skinny, flat-chested little fourteen year old, was introduced to Mr Tequilla. Only half an hour later I was sitting in the kitchen, bucket on knee, vomiting copiously.

Luckily my good friend Stewart was on hand, genearlly being comforting and holding my hair back. After a final bout of dry retching, I let out a bit of a moan and he uttered the immortal line "I know what will make you feel better".

And stuck his tongue down my throat.

Looking back, I can't see that I would have been much of a turn-on really: bits of vomit around my lips, make-up smeared over my face, that sour taste of stomach acid still in my mouth... But obviously he couldn't resist. He kissed me for about a minute before I had to pull away to be sick again. He went off to brag to his mates in the next room, who of course weren't too impressed and happily still rib him about it over 10 years later.

*pop*
(flitski, Fri 8 Jan 2010, 15:20, 1 reply)

You must be thunderously attractive.
For which you get a creepy-click.
(Land of Green Ginger It's dreamy weather, Fri 8 Jan 2010, 16:36, closed)