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.