Claire was an emetophile who loved it when people, especially men, watched her puking, and more especially, in a public setting. It was her passion to occasionally travel to cities within a couple hundred miles away from her home for a large meal followed by syrup of ipecac, then browse casually around in malls or shopping centers until the nausea hit full force whenever and whereever she might happen to be at the time, and she never made any attempt at going to a restroom to puke because, after all, it was the thrill of puking in public that she adored. She loved the attention she'd get from passersby, the occasional good samaritans, and most of all attention from guys who wanted to be chivalrous and helpful. She cherished the collection of several handkerchiefs given to her by guys from all her past puke outings to clean her face after she'd puke; handkerchiefs were like a trophy in that sometimes she'd get them, sometimes nobody would have one to offer.

She had dark sandy, straight blond hair which she wore in a medium business length and mostly straight down just above her collar in a simple yet elegant fashion. Her vital stats: 5'5", 33-24-38 with a face that many have compared to "agent Scully" on the popular television series the "X-files". She had well shaped firm buttocks with well-separated buns and soft but shapely thighs, shapely white freckled busts with just enough mature sag to enhance her sex appeal, and a firm stomach with a slight bit of a soft roll beneath her belly button to give the slightest hint of a sexy cushy pillow (cushion for the pushin') to an observer while she was wearing slacks or pantyhose.

She was a youthful looking age 46 and when she went on her puke adventures she took every precaution to make it look like an unavoidable accident, among these were dressing very professionally in a business suit, and wearing as much makeup as possible without looking as if she'd been hit by a cosmetics truck. The smeared lipstick and runny mascara served to enhance the distressed look after the puking was over, thus workers and security guards and everyone involved would feel compelled to take pity on her and not hold her accountable for the mess or ruined merchandise.

She was especially attracted to guys under 30 years of age, and those from 18-25 if any were interested in older women. Being single, she dated freely. She met a 17 year old high school guy by chance in an internet chatroom who lived in another community but within 30 minutes driving distance and they began to rendezvous often and regularly for hamburger, pizza, music, ect; nothing of a sexual nature but Claire enjoyed hanging out with Mike because he was well versed in barf and liked to talk about it and the two developed a brother-sister type relationship. He and Claire planned a most extravagent puke escapade to take place the upcoming saturday at a mall two hours drive away.

In Mike's mastermind plan he'd covered all bases and spared no detail in addressing the factors of smell, quantity, target of impact, sound, and time of impact. In order to properly execute this game plan, Claire agreed to everything required for success. The preparations for smell/odor and quantity involved eating retro foods (foods that stay in the stomach a long time), refraining from roughage foods, and consuming a lot of dairy products for three days prior to the event. Claire became constipated due to this pre-event training table.

On the day of the event Claire was to eat heaping quantities of colorful and chunky foods almost constantly all day until the moment of truth, so, she started her day with oatmeal, a container of frozen strawberries, and an apple. She snacked on trail mix and dried fruit throughout the day, and for lunch she ate spaghetti with chunky garden style sauce, a colorful chef salad, milk, and a rocky road sundae. She ate green pistachio nuts and sipped a vanilla milkshake constantly as she piloted the Chrysler Sable to their destination. She dressed in her black pantsuit with conservative heels and jewelry and one might have thought she were a lawyer or real estate agent on the job. If anyone got nosy the plan was to be that he was her son and she his mother and they were shopping for school clothes for him.

The two arrived at and dined at a Mexican restaurant located within in the target city, and she ate quesadillas, nachos with plenty of quacamole dip, salsa, and a tomato salad with a lot of green and black olives, and mild red and green peppers. She drank a margarita, and a glass of milk and plenty of water with her meal. They allowed two hours for the food in Claudia's stomach to churn and decompose and mingle with the other contents of her stomach which was still feeling bloated from constipation. For the sound factor (she wanted to make sure she made a lot of racket to draw attention) she constantly swallowed air as they browsed around in the mall's young men's clothing stores. Before they entered JC Penny the time for ipecac had arrived so she swallowed half the contents of the little brown bottle and bought a bottled water.

They entered Penny's and put on a realistic looking act. "Try these on".

"Aww Mom, nobody wears that anymore" etc.

After 30 minutes of this Claire was feeling nausous and so announced that it was time to proceed to checkouts. With their arms full of clothes they never intended to buy they stood in line behind 7 other shoppers waiting to pay. To get their attention Claire calmly asked the cashier if she could put their clothes down on the counter while they waited because "I'm not feeling very well". She retched slightly doing her best to appear sick.

"What's the matter, Mom?" asked Mike convincingly.

"I feel sick. It's a migraine coming on. Ooop! oh, Mmmph!, oh god, Hurrrrp! mmmm Urrrk!" retched Claire with a hand tightly over her mouth.

"Where's the restroom, please?" asked Claire to the cashier.

"End of that aisle and turn left and straight ahead" said the checkout girl.

Claire turned to Mike, winked, and pleaded "Help me there, I'm getting dizzy; the air she'd swallowed now surfaced as burps with each retch Gwerrrp! gasp Gnnng! Urrrrp! Urrrrrp!". With that Claire took a kleenex from her purse and pressed it tightly to her lips as she continued to make burpy retching noises.

Mike took her other arm to make it look as if they were headed towards the comfort facilities. As fast a a flash of blinding light, no less than half a gallon of rainbow colored puke splashed on the floor in front of Claire's feet. Her next heave caused what seemed like a quart of puke to wash across a rack of ladies dresses. That got people's attention. Mike led her around the reeking puddle of tan with green and red chunks, she took two more steps and then "Bluuuuuuuugwap! Hllllllllllllllllllllllll!" two more collossal tidal waves larger than the first of the smelliest puke imaginable flew from her lips and landed on the floor narrowly missing Mike's shoes. She wiped her lips and spat two huge globs of slimy puke residue from her mouth onto a clean spot on the floor next to the puke.

The two pressed onward toward the restrooms as she burped, retched, and spat into her kleenex. The nausea for the most part was over now that her stomach had emptied of most of its contents. She went into the restroom not to finish puking but instead to drink water from the sink, all she could hold. After ipecac's initial effect had played itself out, one won't usually vomit anymore; however, if such a person were to refill the stomach, the effect would continue as before.

Mike sat on the benches outside the restrooms and did his best to act worried. The store manager, a mid-fifies typical looking businessman kind of guy, approached Mike and said "Hi son. I'm Ted the store manager. Is your mother going to be okay?".

"Hi. I'm Mike. Oh yeah, it's her migraines but she'll be okay it happens a lot. We were shopping for school clothes and all of a sudden it hit her just like that. I tried to help her to the bathroom. Sorry we didn't make it in time. We don't have to clean it up, do we sir?" replied Mike.

Ted said "No. Don't worry about it. I've got a stockboy on it right now."

After Claire peed and finished filling her stomach with water she came out and joined them on the bench. "Mom, how do you feel? This is Ted and he's the store manager".

"Hi" replied Claire weakly yet friendlily with her thumbs pressed to her temples (she was quite an expert at this by now). "I'm really sorry about the mess; migraine; I felt sick and it just came over me all of a sudden.....we'll clean it up. Michael, I'd like you to .........".

"Don't worry about it maam, the store will take care of it" interrupted Ted. "Is there anything I can get for you maam" asked Ted.

"Well, if you don't mind, perhaps a soda to settle my stomach. Gingerale."

"Yes maam, I'll be right back".

While Ted was getting the soda, Claire enthusiastically told Mike about how she'd refilled her stomach with water and more puking was soon to come. The nausea was manifesting itself in small ripples when Ted the store manager returned with a styrofoam cup of ice, a can of gingerale for Claire, compliments of the management.

"Thank you so much" said Claire, then suddenly followed by "Mmmph, mmmmmglp, huh, Hurburrrp! Excuse me. Michael, help me to the bathroom, I'm going to be sick again. Urrp!" as she clamped her hand over her mouth again. Mike took her arm as before, but Claire pretended she couldn't get up. "Ooooohgod; weak; dizzy; my legs are all rubbery; can't get up".

In an instant Ted grabbed a wastebasket from somewhere and placed it in front of Claire. She leaned over it as Mike held her free hand and rubbed her back as she retched. Purposely she vomited in such a way as to get only 15% of the puke into the receptacle while causing the majority of it to overshoot in a powerful arcing stream all over the floor. In the bathroom she'd drank at least a quart of water which now seemed like much more once it hit the floor. It had chunks of tomatoes, olives, and other various assorted chunks and a greenish yellow overall hue to the liquid. It smelled like spoiled butter multiplied by a factor of ten.

She pretended to cry and act embarrassed, even going so far as to keep her fingers loosely in front of her lips as she puked to give the impression that she didn't want this to happen. The puke continued to gush out between her fingers into the trash can with each obvious spasm of her stomach which caused her back to arch like a cat ready to pounce. She winced her eyes to make it look as if she were so miserable. She was very loud and vocal with her retching, and was perspiring profusely from head to toe. She looked a mess with her mussed hair, runny mascara, and dribbles of stinking puke dripping from her hand and chin. The area outside the restrooms where they were sitting soon smelled like butyl butyric acid. Occasionally she'd give Mike a small wink of her eye.

To be continued ...