The way she said it told me there was no use to argue, but I had to give it a try anyway. “Don’t you think it’ll get a bit crowded?”
“Naw,” She answered, “There’ll be plenty of room; I suspect he and I will be atop one another most of the night anyway.” She giggled like a school girl. The alcohol will do that to her.
“LIKE HELL HE IS! HE DRAGS HIS ASS IN ONE OF OUR BEDS I BLOW A HOLE IN HIM BIG ENOUGH TO DRIVE A MACK TRUCK THROUGH THE BASTARD!” That what I wish I had guts enough to say. What I really did was keep my mouth shut and waited for the asshole to finally stumble out to our car.
“You don’t mind driving, do you Honey? I’ll just sit back here in the back with Harry, if that’s okay with you,” Pat was crawling into the back seat beside him even as she spoke.
“I…I don’t know–I think it’d be better if you rode up here with me, Honey.”
“Don’t be absurd, Al. Harry needs me much more than you do right now.” She slammed the door shut and we are on our way home with me trying to drive, one eye on the road and the other on the rear view mirror as I tried to keep my eye on what my wife and Asshole was doing in the back seat.
We barely started when I saw her trying to hold Harry upright while he was busy trying to feel her tits. About that time it dawned on me that Harry wasn’t nearly as drunk as he pretended to be. For instance he got her top off and her Bra undone just as quickly as I’d ever done it stone sober.
It’s a wonder I didn’t pile us up alongside the road someplace, since I was having such a time keeping my eyes off the rear view mirror watching ‘Good ole Harry’ trying to play with her tits and Pat trying to keep an eye on me and fight him off at the same time.
I’m not sure why she kept up the pretense of fighting him off–maybe she just didn’t want to appear too easy in front of me, but that didn’t make much sense, since she’d already declared her intention of fucking us both tonight–or at least that’s what I thought I heard. With Pat you can never tell.
She continued the fight, however, but it was a losing effort. Before we were halfway home, he had managed to get his hand under her dress and I’m sure his fingers must have found their way to pay dirt because she started to moan, even though she was trying her best to keep it down. The odor of turned on pussy started filling the car and from the way she was squirming I knew he was he really hitting the right spots.
AS we turned into our driveway she gave up all restraint. The wheels had hardly stopped turning when she popped open the door. She almost fell out of the car while trying to pull Asshole after her, and lead him up the walk saying, “Come on Harry–I gotta have that dick and I gotta have it now.”
I followed along, feeling lower than a snake’s belly. Pushing shut the door they didn’t bother to close; then I followed their trail of discarded clothes to the bedroom–our bedroom–the frigging bed where Pat and I made love. Man! That pissed me off. Tell you the truth, it was a toss-up as to which I was the most: scared or mad.