Aftereffects (female)

[Chanel_no5]

***Note***

Well. Did anyone think I wasn’t going to be inspired by the obvious? Because of course I was. Tweaked it into an original fic for here, though.

Following speech, allergic lady politician and her assistant fetishist lover  ( that sounded like an actual title), get to the car to leave the event, and previously semi-controlled allergies are getting more and more out of control during the ride. 

Because... *gestures wildly* I wanted to write it. No, actually, I didn't, but my brain wouldn't let me write anything else before I got this out of my system so I had to. Now I can go back to the stuff I was working on before this hijacked my brain

And yeah. That's it.    

***

 

I’m looking down at my cell phone, checking the reactions to the speech, and just how much of a drama the fact that she struggled through the marathon speech with a budding allergy attack has become. She sits next to me, dabbing at her lash line with a folded Kleenex and sniffling wetly. Her allergies are never immediate, they’re cumulative events, slow-burn but long-lasting. Patiently persistent. Just like her, in fact.

“Well, everybody seems to be more focused on…”

“Wait,” she says in a breathy voice. I fall silent and get rewarded with a shaky, tired inhale followed by a juicy half-stifled sneeze into the tissue. You can tell from the wetness in the sound that she has a mess to deal with, but she will barely have wiped it up by the time the next slow-building, but ruthlessly tenacious, sneeze explodes out of her. Once she gets started, she’s going to keep going, and it’s getting more intense.

“Bless you.”

“Thank youuhh… huh-mpTSh!”

“Bless you.”

“What did you say they were more focused on?” she asks, folding the tissue over and rubs it under her irritated nostrils. “Not the topic at hand, I’m sure.”

People rarely discuss the topics anymore, and she knows it. It’s all about surface nowadays. And who can hate the loudest on the most insignificant details or most personal preferences.

“Make a guess.”

“It may come as a surprise to you, but I’m not in the mood for games right now.”

I back down. She’s so energetic in general that it’s easy to forget that she too has her limits, but she’s definitely balancing on those limits at this point.  

“Your shoes.”

“My shoes?”

“Are you really surprised?” I ask, and realise that she is. She is so used to her high heels, so comfortable in them, that they’re barely on her mind at all. “You made a five-hour long speech wearing five inch heels.”

“Shoes,” she repeats, shaking her head in disbelief. She sniffles and makes a brief gesture towards her face. “I’m surprised this allergic ridiculousness didn’t turn into a big deal.”

“Well, you only sneezed a couple of times during the actual speech…” I begin. She shakes her head again. She has that bleary allergic look in her eyes, and she has resorted to breathing through her mouth. She’s really losing control over her allergies by now, but at least we’re in the car and not stuck in public anymore.

“No, I sneezed several times.”

I give her a puzzled look.

“That’s what I said.”

“You didn’t. A couple is two.” She holds up two slender fingers to illustrate. “I must have sneezed at least three or four times, so that’s ‘several’.”

It was actually six (not that anybody counted or anything, sheesh, who would do such a thing?), but spaced out over five hours, that still seems like “a couple” to me.

She wipes her nose with the wet tissue.

“Or ‘a few’, that means more than two as well,” she adds.

“That’s your sneeze-scale?”

“That’s the quantity scale.” 

Who am I to doubt that? She is a walking trivia archive. When you least expect it she drops some unnecessary fact, mostly but not always related to the situation at hand. And she loves words.

She wipes her nose again, has just lowered the tissue when her eyelids begin to flutter.

“S-sorry, I’m going to…” she gets the tissue back up, pinches her nose shut into the soggy paper, and painstakingly stifles a sneeze. Which immediately turns into… a couple. And then a few.

“Bless you. Don’t do that,” I say.

She looks at me. Her eyes are watery and red-tinged, her makeup smudged and a little bit runny. It’s supposed to be waterproof mascara, but clearly even waterproof mascara can’t hold its own against her allergies. Not after this long, at least.   

“Don’t do what? Sneeze?” Her voice rises in pitch at the last word and her head bobs forward with yet another viciously bottled-up stifle. It makes a thick sound in the back of her sinuses, and I wince. “I cad’t help it,” she says, still pinching her nose.

“No, stop stifling. That’s gotta hurt.”

“I’m already dripping all over the place, if I let them out…” she clears her throat and sniffles before continuing, “things will get messy.”

“Things already are,” I reply, but she pays no attention to me, she’s too focused on a building sneeze that abandons her right on the edge.

“Ugh. Of all the things that can happen…” she mutters to herself, then brings the tissue back up and blows her nose. She does it gingerly, only too well aware of how soaked the tissue already is. “…I get an allergy attack.”

She sounds so dismayed, almost insulted, that I don’t know whether to laugh or to hug her. So I do both. She gently but resolutely pushes me away.

“I meant what I said. I’m dripping everywhere. I don’t want to get anything on you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But I do.” Her voice isn’t sharp, but it’s firm, so I scoot back to my seat, but I keep looking at her. She didn’t say anything about looking.

“It was quite the show, huh?” she asks, dabbing at her nostrils once again. I don’t see how that tissue can absorb any more moisture at this point, but maybe she found that one dry corner left.

“Still is,” I reply, mesmerised by how dreadfully allergic she looks. She chuckles.

More tears overflow her eyes and she makes a gesture as to wipe them with the tissue she’s still clutching, but this is where I intervene and take it away from her, handing over the last fresh tissue from the pack instead.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, wiping her eyes and then her ever-running nose. Then she laughs a little. “I’m sorry for laughing, I just find it puzzling how anyone can think this is appealing.”

“Truth be told, I’m quite mystified myself,” I admit, shrugging. “It just is.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so, because that adds some degree of dignity to a very undignified situation,” she says, and then snaps forward, tissue only halfway ready when the sneeze erupts with a cloud of spray:  “EeeeISSSHhew!” She sniffs and immediately sneezes again, somewhat more controlled, if there’s such a thing as a controlled sneeze. “Oh my God, I think this is only getting started,” she mumbles, rubbing her nose with the balled-up tissue.

“Bless you.” I’m the one who really feels blessed though, but, you know…

She does.

“I’m sure you’re the one who feels blessed right now,” she comments, once again dabbing at her dripping nose. “What?”

“It’s a little scary when you get inside my head like that.”

She gives me that absolutely dazzling smile that makes my heart skip a beat each time it’s directed at me. For some reason it’s even more dazzling when she looks like this; a drippy, flushed, allergic mess.

“Yet you like me when I do.” She winks at me.

“Maybe I like it when you’re scary.”

“Undoubtedly.” She blows her nose.

“But you won’t like me now, because I forgot to tell you that it was the last tissue I gave you,” I say, wincing a little.

“Oh.” She clears her throat as she lowers the tissue, hesitant to discard it now even though it's clearly used up. “And you don’t have anything else either?”

“In terms of tissue-use, no.”

She looks horrified for a few seconds, as her nose keeps streaming and she keeps attempting to at least stem the flow a little.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“No. I’m sorry.”

I am. But sorry doesn’t conjure up fresh tissues.

“Oh God,” she groans. She sniffles several times and tries to mop up the mess with the last, quickly disintegrating tissue, but to not much avail. Then the sneezy expression begins to sneak into her features again, I can tell she’s fighting it, but she can’t hold back, it’s impossible. She has been so itchy for so long, trying to hold back now is simply not going to work. Watery eyes search for something to catch what’s sure to be a very wet, very messy sneeze in, and just a second before the sneeze has overtaken her, she takes her scarf off and puts it up to her face as a highly overpriced handkerchief.

“Aa-DJSCHugh! Uh… huh-MPTSCHew!”

A thick, deep sniffle, bordering on a snort, quickly followed by a series of helplessly hitching breaths… which then turns into a desperate, barely contained fit.

“HeeISSSHew! IhhSSCHoo! EeSSCHoo! ISSCHuh! HaaTSSCHew!”

It’s not the first time I’ve watched her succumb to a full-on sneezing fit, but it’s a rather rare treat. It’s not quite what would pass as rapid-fire in my book – my definition of rapid-fire fit is those when a sneeze follows right upon the next. You know, gasp-sneeze-sneeze-sneeze-sneeze-gasp. This is more of a gasp-sneeze-gasp-sneeze-gasp-sneeze thing. Who cares, you ask, and the answer is me. I care. Because the latter is hotter than the former, to me. So in my opinion, this fit isn’t rapid-fire.

But it is fire. I’m just about sizzling, and for some reason, her using that ridiculously expensive silk scarf to sneeze into, only adds to the hotness.

“Bless you.” I’m probably as out of breath as she is.

“I’m going to do something I never thought I’d do,” she says, her voice muffled by the silk fabric. A tear trickles down her cheekbone and vanishes into the scarf. “I’m going to blow my nose into a 350 $ Hermès scarf.” She gives me a look that has a hint of incredulous amusement in it. “Does this qualify as dirty talk to you?”

“Sort of.”

“That is a weird kink you have.”

“Tell me about it. But you indulge it well.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Thanks, I think. You’ll get much more pleasure from this later, I promise. Once we have complete privacy.”

I smile.

“And I promise I’ll make your misery worthwhile.”

She laughs and strokes my arm affectionately.

“It’s not that bad, sweetie. I can handle it. But I’m looking forward to your, um, creative ways to show your gratitude nevertheless.”

 She won't be disappointed.

 

 

[Italiangirl]

Well,I must tell you that I really enjoyed this story!

I especially liked the description of the used,disintegrating tissues and the spelling of those juicy allergy sneezes!

[NickG1998]

I loved this amazing story please update soon and keep up the great work 

[Victoria]

On 7/21/2020 at 4:29 PM, Chanel_no5 said:

“Does this qualify as dirty talk to you?”

Loved this!

Thanks, Chanel. Amazing, as always.

[Chanel_no5]

On 7/21/2020 at 11:31 PM, Zumil4702 said:

Well,I must tell you that I really enjoyed this story!

I especially liked the description of the used,disintegrating tissues and the spelling of those juicy allergy sneezes!

Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed it!  

On 7/22/2020 at 1:00 AM, NickG1998 said:

I loved this amazing story please update soon and keep up the great work 

Thank you! I didn't plan on continue it though.  

On 7/23/2020 at 2:49 PM, Victoria said:

Loved this!

Thanks, Chanel. Amazing, as always.

Thank you so much, my dear!  

 

[starpollen]

Mmmmmm  I hope this continues in the Adult section... 

[Dc1]

I love this 

[Tyko93]

Love this!

[Icyfall]

This is very good thank you for sharing 

[AntheaHolmes]

Thanks for sharing. Amazing as always. 

[Leon]

I love this idea of secretly trying to hide your fetish