Erika had felt that something wasn't right already that evening. A feeling of malaise and nausea suggested her to bring a bucket to keep next to her bed for the night. She had only lived a few months in her first own apartment and wasn't sure how she would be able to handle taking care of herself if she was getting sick. She hadn't been since she was a child, except the usual annual cold, always careful and picky of what she ate and looking after a nearly meticulous personal hygiene. Erika looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She'd gotten dressed in her usual sleeping gear, an old, slightly too large grey T-shirt and plain white panties. She was the kind of girl you'd be more likely to call "cute" than "sexy", with a pretty face and a body that she though could use some toning, despite for once being happy with her weight of about 60kg at her 165 centimeters. Erika usually didn't mind eying herself up, but right now, she noticed that she looked like shit. Her grey sleeping T-shirt almost entirely hid her figure and her C-cup breasts, but her pale face was what drew her attention the most. She looked plainly ill.
"Fuck..." she sighed under her breath, and tore her eyes from the mirror, picked up the bucket and went to bed early.
"At least it's Friday, and if I get sick, I won't have to call into work," Erika thought to herself, relieved to know there was at least some luck in her situation. The fair-skinned blonde rested her head of long hair on her pillow, and decidedly ignored her churning stomach, hoping to herself that it would go away. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep. She hadn't noticed it herself, but she was fatigued.
Now, a few hours into Erika's sleep, her body impolitely woke her from a pleasant dream. For a few seconds the evening's troubles were a forgotten memory, until the saliva quickly building in her mouth urgently reminded her of why there was a bucket on the floor next to her. A line of bad curses quickly ran through her mind as she turned the lamp on the side table on with a smack, reached for the bucket and brought it to her face. A cough made her drool into the plastic bucket, but it didn't stop her mouth from filling with more saliva. Suddenly she felt her stomach cramp up and a second later a disgusting gurgling sound emerged from her throat as her body violently emptied yesterday's dinner into the plastic container with a splashing sound.
The feeling of throwing up was very unfamiliar to her. She felt the sour taste as her mouth filled and food and stomach content passed the wrong way out across her lips. When her belly relaxed she desperately filled her lungs with a deep breath. The acidic smell of vomit filled her nostrils. She surprised herself by not finding the scent horrible, but her body promptly disagreed. Another contraction of her stomach forced her to dive her head back down into the bucket. A torrent of vomit sloshed into it, and a few drops splashed back up against her face.
"Eww, damn..." Erika thought, as the cramp stopped and she leaned back to wipe her face off with her forearm. Right now, she couldn't care less about her usual attention to hygiene. She was just relieved to feel her body relax again. Her stomach felt a bit sore, but she also felt extremely relieved. The nausea that had lingered over her since the evening before was washed away, ejected into the bucket sitting in her lap. She couldn't help but look into it. Yellowish, slimy liquid with half-digested food particles filled the bottom few centimeters. Erika looked at the contents with a mix of disgust and curiosity.
"So, that was inside me," she thought. Surprising herself, she leaned in closer and sniffed the contents. "That doesn't smell as bad as you'd think," she told herself, but she still immediately regretted the decision, because she gagged on the smell, her body warning her it might throw up again. "Stupid idea, Erika..." she berated herself.
She laid her head back down on the pillow, still holding the bucket in her lap. The feeling of relief from not being nauseous anymore and her body finally relaxing was incredibly calming. "Almost like after an orgasm..." she thought. She could feel the warmth of her vomit through the bottom of the bucket on top of her thighs and pubic bone. Suddenly, she caught herself in the thought and immediately cast it from her mind.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" she asked herself. She tried to forget drawing that sexual parallel, and got out of bed to empty the bucket into the toilet. Before pouring it out, she looked into the bucket again and interrupted her train of thought with a stern command, "No, Erika! Fucking hell..." She dumped her foul vomit into the toilet bowl and quickly flushed it away. Even though she felt good now, she decided to take the bucket back to bed, just in case.