The Feminist-Sensitive Boyfriend

“Look, I really don’t want you to come over, okay?

“But, but baby?”

“Jimmy, you know I love you, but you know how bad I get PMS just
before and then feel like total crap for a couple of days when I
start.”

“But Bay-Bee, you know I don’t care about.”

“Yeah, I actually know you kinda enjoy it, doncha?” my irritation
of being nagged to death rising and bubbling over but cramps were
killing me and honestly I really didn’t care if I pissed him off
or not.

“Well . . . ”

“C’mon, you’ve told me you do in so many words before, haven’t
you?”

“And I’ve told you that I really don’t enjoy it ‘during’, haven’t
I?” cracking the fridge door open to grab a Bud and pop it open,
making sure he could hear the “swish” as I plopped down on the
couch and then a “pannnggggg!!!!”, dammitall.

“Well, yeah, but . . . ?”

He was sweet if he was a pain in the ass as well as my pussy
from time to time. Yeah, I did love him. I just didn’t feel like
cleaning up the mess that I knew we would make. He wasn’t the one
that was going to have to wash out the bloody towels from
underneath my butt and all.

I had read in “Cosmo” and all that sex, meaning orgasms during
your period could actually help cramps, but after suffering
through thirteen years of sheer hell from the flow like a garden
hose and cramps like being beaten with a stick since getting my
first one at age ten, well, I was skeptical. But he is a sweetie.
Time to lose another virginity, I guess.

“Okay, but stop and get another twelve pack of Bud on your way
over, get some more of those ribbed Trojans like I like for you
to use, get me a large plain Hershey bar the super-sized kind,
and take a shower and brush your teeth too before you leave,
okay? If you can handle all that, yeah, you can come over. You
are a dear, ‘know that?” sounding as sincerely sexy as I could.
His horndog panting at my acquiescence could be heard by a deaf
man in the next county.

“Thanks My Love, you won’t regret it!”

“Yeah, right, we’ll see, get your ass over here, now” taking the
last sip from my last cold Bud, he had better not forget that
blasted twelve-pack.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Buds were cold and the eight ounce giant bar of plain
Hershey chocolate was warm and slightly mushy but no matter. Bud
and Hershey, my two best friends who always gave me what support
I had at that time of the month.

“Jeez-us, Honey, I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to
you; I’ve asked and asked before and you always said ‘no’.”

“You complaining? We can always stop?” as he finished peeling my
panties off me as I lay back on the slightly chippy sheets of the
heirloom daybed in my slightly chilly studio apartment.

“No, no, no! I didn’t mean that, mean it that way, honest!” the
remainder of his clothes, his socks and pants being tossed to the
floor as he gently spread my legs open wide.

“Either do what you’re told or we won’t do this again, I can
promise you that” as his mouth found my splayed open tampon’d
pussy “now eat me, dammit!”

His tongue was even wetter and firmer and softer and hotter than
usual as he licked my lips, sucked on my clit, licked my anal
pucker, sucked on my string.

“Baby, baby, baby I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, this
is so wonderful. I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be a
woman, to go through the special magic . . .”

“Shut up and eat me, dammit, I won’t tell you again” my fussings
not being heard because of his excitement.

“. . . the special bond that only women have, that special time
that is the blood-moon . . . ” he somehow yacking worse than a
parrot as his near-perfect lapping of my cunny continued.

“If you don’t be quiet and give me head, we’ll stop right now, I
swear it, Jimmy!” as my hands grabbed his head and ears and
pulled his face tighter to my pussy still.

” . . . time of your femininity, that arc-flow of creation of
what it means to be a woman . . .”
I had just enough fucking-nough.

“You want me to show you the beauty of what it means to be a
woman during her period?” I rolling out from under him and
grabbing his waist to twist him around to where he was on his
knees “get on all fours, bitch, and I show you!” as his eyes got
bigger than the proverbial saucers as I pulled my Playtex Super
out and shoving his shoulders forward to where he was on all
fours, tried to shove my thoroughly soaked tampon inside his butt
but it was too mushy “stay there!” running to the bathroom and
coming back with a fresh one and ramming it up his butt so deeply
that only an inch or so of the applicator stuck out as his eyes
rolled to the back of his head and a slight moan came from his
lips “how does it feel to feel like a woman, now, hu, Jimmy?”

“Ohhh, uuhhh, uhhhmmmppphhhh …” leaking quietly from his lips
“it feels great, Hon’, now you and I are truly blood sisters,
sisters in blood, you’ve made me your period-sister” I just
shaking my head sitting beside him the bed as I worked the
applicator’d tampon in and out of his tail like a small dildo,
just for the fun of it, just because I could.

“You’re really sick Jimmy, you know that?” the slightly shitting
plastic dick now out of his ass, tossing it into the trashcan
beside the bed, pulling him around to me, atop me, my free hand
working the towel back under my butt.

“Yeah, but you love me, I know you do”

“Yeah, I do. But shut up about this nonsense of being my
blood-sister, okay? You’re my guy and I want you to fuck me. You
got game for that?” his grin now ear-to-ear as his cock, rockhard
apparently from my slightly tampon-ass-fuck of him or who knows
what, stared its one-eye gaze on me as he scooted down to force
himself inside me, nicely.