Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.
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My wife was an alcoholic, a functional alcoholic maybe and she was an alcoholic before we got married. Why did I marry her then, because there was that window when she was drunk that the sex was fantastic. Before we were married the sex was ok if she hadn't been drinking. After we were married, there wasn't enough sober sex to draw a conclusion.
Liz could knock back a bottle or two of wine every night. Once she emptied a five liter box in two nights. She started talking about children three years into our marriage and I refused unless she joined AA. That fight lasted maybe a year and at one point I moved out. Liz still refused AA or to do anything about her drinking, but she agreed to have her tubes tied.
There was something about a drunk Liz that curtailed my own drinking, especially going out drinking with her. Her gal pals liked going out drinking with her and it was GNO every other Friday. I never knew how drunk she would be when she came in. On a good night, she would be hot for sex, and everything was on the table. She would even give up her ass on those nights. There were a lot of nights that she couldn't remember having sex the next morning, except finding her panties full of my come or her ass was sore.
Neither a woman nor a man can drink that much alcohol and not have an effect on their body. For Liz, it started with her thighs, then her ass and finally her belly. It took a minute for her belly to catch up when she rolled over. There was less and less to love in Liz, and I tried telling her that she was drinking our marriage away, but she ignored me. I assumed she didn't care.
There were the in between nights, where we started some type of sex act, and pass out in the middle of it. In the middle of sucking my cock, she started snoring. She passed out while fucking her ass. One night, when she passed out while sucking me off, I put her on her back and jerked off into her open mouth. I did feel guilty for a moment and then realized I got a thrill out of it.
The next time we were fucking, and she passed out, I just kept going until she started going dry. We always kept a bottle of lube in the bedside table. I put Liz on her stomach and pulled her to the edge of the bed and started fucking her again. I might be a sick puppy, and it might technically be called rape, but I enjoyed it. And I didn't have to worry about Liz getting off.
Liz would be confused the next morning when she found cum in her panties, asking me if we had sex the night before. I would spin a tale about her being a tiger when she got home, and how she attacked me.
