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Toxic Triggers, Pt 1: The Nose Knows No Head

Note: This is Part 1 of an 11-part series of short posts on what triggers memories of ex-lover B., culminating on October 11, 2014, the First Anniversary of when he kissed me goodbye. Literally. His kiss was a kiss-off. I have not seen him since.

TRIGGER #1: Zyrtec-D

Can you give a blow job with a drippy nose?

Can you give a blow job with a drippy nose?

My seasonal allergies are worst in the fall: itchy eyes, runny nose, uncontrollable sneezing, the whole messy shebang. One such episode befell me in B.’s bed one autumn day long ago. I was giving him head — which y’all know takes away one airway — and trying to breathe through the snot that was seemingly pouring from my nose. I had to stop and give a big, loud, wet sniff, then proceed. Stop. Snort. Continue. Stop. Snort. Continue. It was a disaster. 

Seeing me thus miserable, B. finally said, “I have some allergy medicine, the real potent stuff. Let me get it for you.” And he left the bed with his hard-on shrinking, returning with some Zyrtec-D, the ingredients from which you can allegedly cook up some meth (you have to fork over your driver’s license and sign your life away in order to get the stuff from the pharmacist. I doubt B. was any Walter White/”Heisenberg”, though.). But I just had to stop going down on him until the drug kicked in. I was choking on my own juices, my mouth stuffed with B.’s dick and clamoring for air all at the same time.

Thanks to B., Zyrtec-D is my fall allergy drug of choice. But handling those impossible-to-open, hermetically-sealed little tablets triggers a reaction in me that is more than just seasonal rhinitis. It is seasonal sadness.

Categories: Affair Affairs Break-ups Memories Relationships Triggers

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Exit 4A

A former mistress (26 years, on-and-off) describes the good, the bad, and the ugly of her long-term affair. Conclusion: Affairs aren't necessarily destructive if kept in the correct perspective. Our experience enhanced BOTH our marriages.

That is, until his marriage ended and we began to love each other. When the affair morphed into a relationship, well, that's when it stopped being fun for me. We have now irrevocably split.

Lately I've been writing about the man who took his place in the "off" years of that 26-year-long affair. He was a dynamic sexual partner but we, too, now have irrevocably split.

These are our stories.

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