I hate being sick.
That may sound like an obvious statement but I hate it not just for how it leaves me feeling but for how it has ruined something great.
You see recently I was in the midst of a really great fantasy. I was stretched out trying desperately to get some much needed rest at the time and had reached that half asleep, almost dreaming, state.
The dream / fantasy started with me meeting a certain woman I hadn’t seen in a long time and have been intimate with in real life before. (NO, I’m not going to say who so don’t ask!). We spent a good while catching up on old times as you might expect and then things started heating up.
This fantasy / almost-dream was very detailed. Every touch, every movement was precise as things heated up very quickly between us. We had reached that key moment, her bare sweat covered form was before me, her eyes and her voice inviting me in, her legs open to receive me when . . . BLAM!
The vision is violently jerked away from me as I’m suddenly bolt upright, coughing like mad. It’s so severe that I literally CANNOT draw breath, instead the coughing reflex continues without any air behind it.
Finally I’m able to draw breath just before I start to grey out and the coughing continues, taking anywhere from ten to 30 minutes to finally subside.
It finally ends but the fantasy is ruined. It might or might not start again sometime but if it does and this thrice damned sickness isn’t gone it’ll get yanked away from me again.
This is one of the innumerable reasons that I hate being sick.
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