I swear, I am never drinking again!

When was the last time you had a hangover so bad you swore off drinking? I had one of those yesterday, and oh brother! I'm not literally going to never drink again, but we didn't drink anything yesterday (we barely ate!) and we've agreed to not drink the rest of this week (until Friday night.)

L and R came into town Saturday. It's a bit of an anniversary for them, as you'll remember it was this time last year that L and the wife and I went to the St Patrick's Day events (sans parade) and where R met up with us. That led to him and L fucking all night in our guest room, while I dealt with my "over served" wife. 

L was still with B at the time, but was looking to leave. L uses the same advice with relationships that people use for jobs: never leave your current one until you have another to go to. She and B split up for good soon after that, and she wound up living with us for a few months before moving in with R permanently (so far.) There had been some mild shenanigans between us during that time, but relatively chaste (for us, anyway).

So they came into town Saturday, and we went back to the St Patrick's Day events downtown (sans parade). We hit a couple of the same spots as last year, but didn't stay long and were back home by dinner time. That's when the true drinking got started!

We'd been planning the get together for a couple weeks now, and I can honestly say that, under the circumstances, I absolutely did not expect any shenanigans to occur. But isn't that the way it always happens?

My memory of most of the night is spotty, but I recall clearly what happened when, later in the night, I went upstairs to get more ice for drinks. L followed me up to "help" with getting things, and R and the wife were downstairs watching TV or whatever.

As soon as we got into the kitchen, I turned to L and she aggressively began kissing me. She pulled up her top so I could play with and suck on her tits, then groped me through my pajama pants (we'd all decided to get comfortable for the night.) I pulled my dick out, and L tugged it a few times then bent over and sucked me nice and firmly for a few seconds. We knew we couldn't spend too long away from them, so we put ourselves back together. I told L "I want to fuck you!" She said "I know, and we'll take a day off together soon, but we have to get back downstairs now." So we did, and that was it.

Until the next morning.

I woke up about 7 (really 6, but the time change and all) and wobbled my way into the bathroom wondering how I'd gotten to bed. Coming out, I saw L standing in the doorway to the rec room and said "good morning." She turned to me and looked about as bad as I felt. We laughed about still being drunk, and came to sit at the bar.

She asked if she'd behaved the night before, and I grinned and hesitated before saying "Eh... yea, I guess." I asked her if she remembered going upstairs together, and she said she did. We chuckled about that, and she stood up and moved next to me and raised her shirt again for me. I played with her boobs some more, licking and sucking the nipples while grabbing her ass.

I was sliding my fingers up inside of the boy shorts she was wearing, and she kind of half-heartedly turned away, laughing. She said she and R had sex a bit earlier, and that everything was still juicy. I said I didn't care (which she knows), so she turned back towards me to give me access. Sure enough, her pussy was wet, and I rubbed all along her slit before pulling my fingers out and licking them. By the look on her face, I think she enjoyed seeing that.

I pulled my dick out and stroked it a few times before she took it in her hand. I did a little hip thrust up, and she took the hint and leaned over and gave me a good suck! She stood back up and I continued stroking while she watched. 

After a moment of this (all the while we kept up an inane conversation in case anyone was listening) I reached for her and got my fingers inside of her again. And again I licked them clean, and told her to pull her shorts down and lean over the barstool and I'd lick her clean. I didn't expect her to do it, and she didn't, but she was undeniably tempted.

I was still stroking my cock and asked if she wanted to suck it again. She asked if I was close to coming, and I told her I was not. She kind of shrugged and said "I'll just go upstairs then, haha." A few minutes later the wife stumbled out of the bedroom and we went upstairs while L and R got their things together. None of us were in good shape, but R seemed to be the most coherent. He kept telling all of us that we needed to take a shot and we'd feel better. We didn't take him up on that.

After they left, and the wife decided to go back to sleep for a while, I jacked off while remembering the feel of L's mouth on my cock. When I came, it made my knees weak (though that may have also been because of the hangover.)

"Right now" L says a lot of shit that "later on" L either doesn't remember or changes her mind about, and this is especially true when there's alcohol involved. I don't know what, if anything, will happen the next time the two of us are alone together for a day, but I'm definitely looking forward to that possibility!

An Uncomfortable, yet Unavoidable, Truth

 Several years ago, the wife and I were grocery shopping, as we often do. For whatever reason, we needed cash this time (something we were going to do the next day that cash would be more convenient, I suppose.) Anyway, we make our purchase, I push the buttons for cash back (probably $40, but maybe as much as $60.) This was a self-checkout register, which I infinitely prefer to having to deal with a cashier.

We get home, and later the wife says something that reminds me of the cash. I ask her for it, and she said “I don’t have it. I thought you got it.” Of course I didn’t.

This was a time where our finances were finally starting to get under control, and though the loss of $40 (or maybe $60!) wasn’t something I’d want to do on a regular basis, I knew the chances of getting it back were slim to none and was ready to write it off as an expensive lesson learned. The wife wanted me to call the store and ask if it had been turned in, and I didn’t want to. After all, who’s going to turn in found money?

As you can probably guess, I finally called the store. And as you may have guessed, I was surprised to hear that, once I was able to verify the register number from the receipt, the time of day, and the amount, the customer service rep told me the money was there for me to pick up! Score on for the wife!

So why was I so sure nobody would turn it in? Because I wouldn’t have. If I’d found that money in the cash return at the register, I’d have pocketed it with very little thought. I’d have justified it as 1) the person won’t call back because they would assume it was gone, 2) even if I turned it in the person I gave it to would just keep it for themselves, and 3) I didn’t steal it, I found it. Finders keepers, right?

Maybe two weeks later, we were out shopping again. As we got to the self-checkout, we both noticed cash in the cash return. I took it out and saw it was $60, and my first instinct was to quickly pocket it before anyone saw. In my defense, we hadn’t seen anybody leave the register as we approached, so there wasn’t much of a chance finding whomever may have forgotten it.

The wife, of course, immediately stated we’d turn it in to customer service. I didn’t argue, immediately agreed with her that it was the right thing to do, but I didn’t believe it. If she hadn’t been there, I’d have kept that money with very little, if any, guilt.

And understand, none of my rationalizations would have applied. I now knew that people do call back, that at least some of the workers there are honest enough to attempt to get the money to the person who lost it, and that finders may be keepers but it sucks to be the loser who’s weeping.

And still, I’d have kept that money if the wife hadn’t been there. In fact, though our financial circumstances are much better now than they were even then, I’d probably keep the money under those circumstances.

I’m not a complete monster; if I saw someone drop the money I’d let them know. If I saw the person walking away and could surmise that it was their money, I’d make the effort to give it back. But randomly finding money with no obvious owner around, even knowing that there would be an outside chance that they would come back for it, I’d almost certainly keep it.

As an atheist, I don’t believe in a set “morality” as religion usually defines it, but I do believe in behaving ethically. I do this because I know the survival of society depends on most people being ethical, and because I can empathize with people enough to not want to cause them harm in a way that I don’t want to be harmed.

I know this such a huge hole in my ethical thinking, and it bothers me more that I know the hole is there, and recognize that it shouldn’t be and that I should work to close it, than my actions because of this hole. My cheating on the wife is a similar hole.

And yet, I will cheat on my wife again if the opportunity and timing allows. And if I were a millionaire with no money concerns at all, two months away from dying, I’d still want to pocket that $60. I’m not proud of it, and deserve whatever scorn I’ve got coming, but it’s a truth about me that I cannot change.