A Fair Deal

"Every time!" I shouted at her, frustrated.

"It's not

every

time," she replied, wincing and holding her head at the loudness, "it's, just... more often than it should be."

"It's not fair on anyone else! Your friends! Me! Whoever you decide to throw up on!" I continued, furious that another night had finished with her blind drunk. Another night spent alone next to her unconscious, snoring body.

"My friends think it's funny! And I didn't throw up on anyone... Did I?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Not this time! Fine. It's not fair on

me

. I deserve more. I deserve better." I turned away, partly disgusted at my own petulant tone. Sometimes it felt like I was the worst version of myself around her.

I stared out the window at the blue mid-morning sky. Another lovely Sunday lost to one of her hangovers.

From the bed behind me, I heard her let out a long sigh. It was brutal of me to argue with her when she was in this state, but I was in a brutal mood.

"You're just grumpy because you didn't get what you wanted," she groaned dismissively.

"What?" I said, turning around to face her, slightly confused.

She put her hands over her eyes in obvious discomfort and slowly repeated, "You. Are. Just. Angry. Because. You. Didn't. Get. To. FUCK. ME." and winced again at her own volume.

I stared at her for a moment. She wasn't entirely wrong. Her slurred flirting and sloppy kisses at the bar after dinner had been full of lewd promises, but in the end she had once again chosen drunken oblivion instead of me.

I had seen it coming and tried to slow her down. She drank the water I gave her, but minutes later I spotted her sneaking in a shot at the bar, when she had supposedly just gone to the toilet.

"That's not it!" I replied defensively.

"Liar." she stated harshly, her eyes still covered.

"It's not just that!" I continued, affronted. "It's the embarrassment of carrying my staggering drunk-"

"Oh fuck off." she interrupted, "If we'd done it you would have been happy as the cat that got the cum-fucking-flavoured cream! And I would be left in fucking peace!!"

"Bullshit." I replied, feeling hurt by her accusation.

"You know what? I call bullshit right back at you." she spat, sitting up to glare at me with one eye open, "Next time you can fuck my drunk unconscious body. Angry fuck me like a floppy lifeless corpse! Go to town! Get it out of your system!"

I was completely wrong-footed by her offer. Was she making fun of me? Was she serious?

"On one condition!" She held up her finger like a command, "You piss off and leave me alone! Today and every morning like this."

I still couldn't find any words. I was stunned, the anger was draining away. Did I want to accept? Did I want to hold the moral high ground? Or was this just a trick?

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Yes. Now fuck off or no deal." She took a breath. "NOW!"

I was already walking out the door before my doubts had a chance to kick in.

A few hours of sleep later, she emerged looking a little more human, still in her pyjamas. She drank some more water, ate some toast, and apologised.

"I'm sorry for getting so drunk again. And for swearing at you." She looked down at the table and gave a long sigh.

"I'm sorry for being so harsh with you." I apologised in return. We smiled wryly at each other. Things weren't fixed, but they felt a bit better.

She got up and headed back towards the bedroom. At the doorway she looked over her shoulder at me and asked, smiling impishly: "Do you want to make up?" before continuing through without waiting for an answer.

She was already laying on the bed waiting for me when I got there. She was in her front, head on the pillow, eyes closed. She gave her bum a little wiggle, as if I needed any encouragement!

I pulled the waistband off her bottoms down, revealing her gropable bum. I gave it a good squeeze, then continued pulling them off until I dropped them beside the bed.

I pushed apart her legs with my knees, and looked down at her sex. Her lips were already parted and glistening.

"Be gentle with me - I'm still a bit fragile." She asked a little pathetically.

I rubbed my fingers over her entrance, confirming that she was already wet and ready. I pressed my finger into her, and it slipped inside her with hardly any resistance. She squeezed my finger, gripping tightly around it.

"You're already sloppy." I observed, partly as a question.

"Mmm." She responded, as her hips pushed up in reaction to me firmly pushing in a second finger. She might be wet, but she was still tight as always.

I removed my fingers and unbuttoned my jeans. I pulled out my cock and positioned myself above her so that its head was resting against her warm slit as I supported myself with one arm.

She moved her hips to rub it against herself. She reached down between her legs so she could press the head against her clit as she moved back and forth.

I leaned down to kiss her cheek and neck, pulling up her top to cup her breast with my spare hand. I gently squeezed her nipple as she pushed herself onto my cock, her hand guiding me into her warm folds.

I grunted in her ear in satisfaction. I avoided pushing deeper, and instead made small thrusts so I could feel the ridge of the head of my cock slip back and forth at her entrance.

"I was thinking of you," she confessed suddenly. "I was thinking of you taking me while I was drunk and unconscious. Using me to satisfy yourself."

She had opened her eyes and was looking up at me over her shoulder. Her hand pulled me down by the back of the head until my ear was beside her mouth.

She whispered, "I played with myself while I thought about you using me as your fuckdoll."

Her filthy language whispered directly into my ear was giving me chills. I could feel my need to finish building already.

In one long firm thrust I pushed myself deep into her, until our bodies were pressed together, causing her to let out a quiet whimper. I held myself there and felt her fingers rubbing her clit beneath me.

"I came thinking about it," she continued. "I imagined waking up to you already pounding me. Your cock becoming hard and as you came inside me."

Her fingers were moving rapidly now, as I began long purposeful thrusts into her.

"So you want to go through with the deal, then?" I asked, looking into her face and picking up speed.

"Yes." she replied, her eyes tightly closed.

"You want me to strip you and use your body like my sex toy?" I watched her brows furrow as the sound of our bodies slapping together grew louder.

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

I kissed her and grunted as I felt her body tensing and twitching beneath me. With a final few thrusts into her convulsing body I finally released myself within her. Waves swept through me and burst from my cock, filling her with my cum.

I held myself deep within her. I could feel her shuddering and squeezing me inside her as her fingers frantically rubbed her clit. She bucked and moaned as I felt the last pulses of cum leave me.

We caught our breath for a moment. I was still on top of her, my softening cock warm and snug inside the sloppy mess of her sex.

I whispered in her ear "Deal." A little shiver went down her spine and I felt her clench around me.

"And you'll be gentle with me?" she asked plaintively.

"Of course," I replied. Kissing her shoulder and neck. "I don't want to damage my new sex doll."

She smiled at that and I felt her squeeze me again. My cock twitched in response inside her. I could feel it slowly hardening.

"Stop," she giggled. "I don't think I can go again."

"How many times have you finished already this morning?" I asked teasingly.

She looked over her shoulder with a slightly guilty expression as I pushed my enlarging cock further into her.

"Twice before I came downstairs."

I raised my eyebrows. Twice was uncommon, but orgasming three times in one morning was almost unheard of.

I reluctantly pulled myself from her. She rolled on her side to face me. We kissed and cuddled in the afterglow. Each of us thinking about the deal.

"I do want to be better though," she said quietly. "It's a fun fantasy, but I don't want to always be a drunken fool every time I have a drink."

I kissed her forehead and squeezed her. "Sounds like a win-win to me."

A few weeks later, I found myself sitting in the car, waiting in a car park for my wife and her friends. They had been for a prosecco brunch together, but brunch had lasted well into the evening.

In the golden light of a warm autumn evening, I waited patiently. When she called earlier there had been a definite slur to her words. The fact that it was her calling and not one of her friends was a good sign though. Maybe she really was making the effort to be more sensible.

I heard them before I saw them. Cackling and clip-clopping in their heels.

Around the corner they staggered. My wife was holding onto one of her friends and... I froze, a man?

Puzzled, I gave them a wave and they trotted over.

The doors opened. One of her friends sat in the front passenger seat next to me and smiled a tipsy "Hi there, taxi man!"

The man helped my wife into the back, and to my surprise, followed her in. Her second friend got in from the other side. The two of them giggling as they stumbled and fumbled their way into their seats.

"Um, Hi." said the man, nervously. "I just finished at the restaurant and your wife said you could give me a lift?" He was clearly as uncomfortable as me. "If that's ok? I live about 5 minutes away from you. It's much faster by car than by bus"

"Sure!" I agreed, and took his address. I wasn't very happy about it, but it wasn't the first time this gaggle had offered out my services as a taxi. Picking up a waiter was a new one, but at least he was sober!

The first friend didn't live far away. They were giggling and chatting the whole way. They were a funny group of drunks and it wasn't long before me and the waiter were laughing along too.

I pulled up outside the first friend's house. As she picked up her handbag, she turned to me, said "Thanks for the lift. You're a lovely man." and before I could react, her soft alcohol-scented lips pressed against mine for a moment.

"There's your tip!" she said and stepped giggling out of the car. With a little wave to her friends she headed up the path and inside.

I looked at the three of them in the back, feeling slightly taken aback. There was a second of silence as the three of them stared back at me, equally stunned.

"I don't need to leave a tip too, do I?" said the waiter, and suddenly we were all laughing.

"I don't want the tip, or the rest of it, thanks!" I joked rudely, and the three of them were almost in tears.

"I'll take your tip" slurred my wife. Without warning she kissed him, catching us all by surprise.

My heart skipped a beat. "Hey!" I objected. It was only a quick kiss, but the sight of my wife kissing another man filled me with strong feelings. Anger, and although I didn't want to admit it to myself, lust.

"Oh fair's fair!' she retorted. "You get a liddle kish, I cun have one nazwell." Her words barely understandable. Her eyes were looking a little droopy.

"S'true!" her friend added.

The waiter shrugged an apology, as baffled as me by the turn of events.

"An' you're just grumpy because I'm awake and you don't get your..." she waved her hands vaguely at herself. "me". She slumped to the side, her head on her friend's shoulder.

"Oh." said her friend knowingly. She waggled her eyebrows at me and smirked, "The Deal."

"Sssh!" interrupted my wife, slightly too late. "S'a secret!" Her eyes were closed now. Snuggled up to her friend.

The waiter looked at me, puzzled.

"Let's get going" I said, changing the subject, my cheeks reddening. It had been wandering around the back of my mind for weeks, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been secretly hopeful that it would come to fruition tonight.

Shortly afterwards I dropped off her second friend. She propped up my semi-conscious wife in the middle seat, who gave a quiet "Bye" and a half wave without opening her eyes.

Her friend leant forwards to me between the two front seats, her cleavage wobbling eye-grabbingly in her low top.

"Looks like you're getting lucky tonight," she whispered lewdly and kissed me. Not just a quick one second kiss like before - a lingering kiss, finished with a light brush of her tongue on my lips.

'See you next time" she said promisingly, and gave the waiter a quick peck and a "Bye!" before leaving the car.

I watched her lovely bottom walking up the drive to her home. Both of my wife's friends were attractive in different ways, and the kisses were more than welcome, but they had done nothing more than some light flirting in the past. I had never seen the group of them so wound up before.

Long may it continue, I considered.

"Friendly, aren't they?" said the waiter, bringing me back to reality.

"Yeah!" I said. "Not normally this friendly, but I'm not complaining!" We both chuckled.

Our voices disturbed my wife. She groaned and slowly slid sideways until she was resting on the waiter's shoulder. In the dusk light I could see the straps of her bra and top had slid off her shoulder furthest from him, and her breast was bulging out slightly, revealing the darker skin at the edge of her nipple.

He didn't seem to notice. I was about to say something but a part of me enjoyed the thrill of her slight exposure. I decided to leave her as she was.

We set off on the longest part of the drive. We lived further out of town than her friends. She wanted to be near the nightlife and I wanted to be in the country. In the end we had settled on an unhappy compromise in the suburbs between both.

After a few minutes I adjusted the rear view mirror down slightly to check on my passengers. My eyebrows immediately shot up.

In the fading light I could see my wife's bare breast bouncing with the car's movement. Her straps had slipped down further, and her bra cup had fallen open in front of her!

At the edge of the mirror, to no surprise, I spotted the waiter's eyes hungrily devouring every motion.

The sight distracted me for a moment and I realised my speed had dropped. I sped back up and set the cruise control.

Sensing something was up, the waiter looked up and met my gaze in the mirror.

"Enjoying the view, are you?" I chuckled, inexplicably aroused by this man's attention on my wife.

"Oh, I, er... sorry. It just... I didn't..." He spluttered.

"Don't worry." I responded, being blazé about the situation.

"Are you sure?" he asked cautiously. "I can cover her back up."

"Hey babe! Babe! BABE!" I said loudly, making him jump. "Do you mind him looking at your bare tits?"

Silence.

"I don't think she minds," I laughed. He chuckled with me.

"Well, if neither of you mind me looking at them..." he said. I saw movement in the mirror, and then without warning he pulled down the other side, revealing her other breast!

I mentally froze for a moment. I had said "tits" instead of "tit", which mistakenly gave him permission. I gulped and looked back at my wife's breasts wobbling lewdly in the half-light for this stranger to appreciate.

"Beautiful!" he said.

"Yeah!" I answered. Beautiful. And bare for him and any passing car to see. I felt a stirring inside me. Not just inside. I could feel myself swelling in my underwear.

"So tell me about this 'deal'," he asked, changing the subject.

I told him all about her problems with drinking, flirting, getting black out drunk, my frustration, our arguments, and finally her offer of a deal. It felt like a weight off my chest to talk about it with him. I realised he was the first person I had to talk to about it. About any of it.

He listened intently and agreed with my feelings: "Nothing worse than being cock blocked!" he joked. He was staring at her breasts as they jiggled at each bump in the road.

"Wow... so this gorgeous woman is yours to use for the night?" he said, amazed. "You are one lucky man."

"Yeah!" I answered. My heart thudding with excitement. Even discussing using her later had my pulse racing.

"Though I don't mind you getting her ready for me!"

"... What?" he said, puzzled.

"You know, taking her top down. I don't mind." I clarified. Confused by his confusion.

"Oh! I wondered what you meant for a moment." he chuckled.

"Ha!" a laugh escaped me. Were we really discussing him doing more with my wife? How much more did he think I meant?

I realised my cock was hardening. How much more did I want him to do?

"We've never really done anything with anyone else..." I confessed.

"But you don't mind me seeing her like this?" he asked.

"... No." I answered thoughtfully.

"Would you mind me taking off her bra?" he asked, his voice optimistic but cautious.

I thought for a moment, looking at my bare-breasted wife in the mirror. It seemed harmless in the circumstances.

"Go for it." I replied. My breath shaking slightly.

I heard him moving. I saw glimpses of him shifting her around as he unclasped her bra, and realised that in the process he had 'accidentally' supported her by taking a handful of her breast for a moment.

Some more movements and she was resting back on his shoulder. Her bra landed on the passenger seat next to me, making me jump slightly.

I just let a stranger take my wife's bra off. The evidence was sat next to me. And he had gotten a good grope in the process. I pretended to have not seen, but the memory blazed in my mind. This man she barely knew squeezing her soft flesh without her permission, and she would never know.

If she never knew, did we do anything wrong?

I looked in the mirror again. To take the bra off he had pulled the straps of her top off her arms. Her vest top was now just a band of material around her waist, providing her no dignity. The street lights caressed her flesh as they passed, revealing her in the dim light to anyone who might glance in the back as they overtook us.

"I don't think that top is doing much!" I joked.

With barely a pause, I saw her arms pulled above her as her top was slipped up, over her breasts, and above her head. It landed unceremoniously with the bra beside me.

No grope this time, the sight of her breasts popping out from under the top as it came off was enough for both of us, clearly.

"Can I touch them?"

"Again?" I teased, revealing that I already knew about his wandering hand.

I saw his guilty smile. "Sorry man. It was right there and..."

I let out a short laugh. "It's OK." I replied.

He took that as permission, and his hand took it in turns with her breasts. I could see them bulging as he squeezed them firmly. Then the taut skin as he gently pulled each nipple, leaving them hard in the warm autumn evening air.

I was struggling to split my focus between the road and the man's enjoyment of my wife. I purposefully slowed to match the speed of a lorry ahead, and set the cruise control again. This way I just needed to keep the well-lit back of the lorry directly ahead of me, and could concentrate more on what was behind me.

I was feeling pleased with myself when the man's voice interrupted my smugness.

"How does her skirt do up?"

"It's a zip on her left." I answered, realising the implied permission as the words left my mouth. There's no undo button in the real world. As I tried to figure out how to backpedal, or if I wanted to, a zipping noise mooted any objection I might have.

I saw him lower her onto her side, her head away from him. A high heel landed in the passenger seat, followed by the other.

"I guess I get a free pass on those!" he chuckled. A long shuffling noise followed as he slowly worked the skirt over her bottom, down her legs, over her feet, to finally land beside me.