One For the Road Ch. 02

I was growing angrier and less tolerant as the unload continued, my temper was fraying and I had developed a shivering chill from sitting in one place too long while waiting to move. It took over 2 hours to unload the rock and put it away, which put me behind the 8-ball on the rest of my job. So when the last load of lumber for the next day was strapped and the Yale forklift parked, we had already been closed for almost an hour and it was already after 5.

I was miserable and took a dry shirt from the salesmen's office to wear since I was feeling like a sponge. Freddie Terlips was hanging around, one of the counter guys, and he suggested we all go out to Hooters and blow off a little steam since today was such a suckfest. I was going to beg off, telling Freddy that things were pretty tight and I didn't have the money to blow for "beer, wings, and cleavage" when he shrugged his shoulders and offered to pick up the tab. "I have to tell you, Jimmy," he said with a grin, "you bust your ass here and today I think everyone noticed how much effort you took not to scream 'fuck it' and come inside to warm up."

A number of the other counter and sales guys agreed and the offers were made for everyone still sticking around to go. So I gave Myra a call, dismayed to get the answering machine, but I did say, "Honey, we had a shitty day so a bunch of us are going out to relax for an hour or two. I'll be home before 8. Love you, Babes."

The group of us descended on the local Hooters where we were able to get a corner table with only a minimal wait. They had the game on in the background on the closest flat-screens and we had the waitress (Candy – like that was her real name) bring over a couple orders of wings and two pitchers of beer. As the group of us unwound and I could feel my pants drying uncomfortably against my legs, I absently took a mug from the center of the table and filled it with the closest pitcher.

What are you doing, Jimmy? Just having a beer. Are you sure that's a good idea? Sure it is, I had a very shitty day. What about this last month? You've been watching yourself that whole time. I know, which I why I know that this one beer won't be a problem. It shows that I can control myself and there isn't a problem. One beer? Just one. You can drink one, Jimmy. Just one. It's ok.

I took a sip, lips parted, letting the cold cold amber liquid slide on down. Pleasant flavor, subdued scent. I could taste the hops, grainy against my tongue. The remaining lace of the foam tickled my moustache as I swallowed the mouthful I had, such a clean flavor. In a single word: delicious.

My mouth stretched wide as my grin grew broad, the remnant of the warming beer tantalizing on the roof of my mouth and the hollows of my cheeks. I took another single slow luxurious mouthful, actually feeling the burbling in my throat as the carbonation worked its way through my system, escaping with a gentle burp of hops and grain laden air.

I kept my word and even though I might have eaten too many chicken wings, I only had a single beer. So I bid my work buddies farewell, climbed into my Charger, and drove home to my wife and kids. "Hey, hey! It's Daddy!" I called, banging open the front door and standing there with my hands spread.

"Hey, Dad!" John threw himself at me, letting me catch him as he squeezed my neck as tight as he could in a fierce hug. "We heard you in the answering machine!"

"You did? I didn't hear you guys." Joel grabbed me by the right leg, sitting on my foot and holding onto my calf and thigh with a tight grip. I swung my youngest son up and forward as I stepped into the house, his shrill laughter almost deafening. "Where's mommy?"

"She's in the potty."

"Ooo, that sounds private and important."

From behind the closed bathroom door, Myra good naturedly called out, "It is! So stop talking about my 'potty' time, boys!"

We all walked up to the bathroom door and one at a time, each knocked on it and asked, "Are you in there?" Regardless whether she answered or not, we continued this until we were all laughing and Myra eventually opened the door, wild eyed and grinning like a panther. The boys each yelled in fake terror and ran away while I dashed the other way, Myra trying to grab my trailing shirt. Eventually I got tangled up around the couch as John stopped short in front of me, my wife finally able to get a good grip and slow me down.

"Yes! Yes!" she yelled with a grin, holding her hands against my shoulders and pushing me back. "I am in the bathroom!" I let her tumble me onto the couch where she landed in my lap, hands wrapped behind my neck. "We missed you, James Skelly!"

I leaned up to give her a kiss and could feel her fighting her grin as we did so. It was when we broke away and the boys were trying to pull me free that I noticed a change in her eyes as she gave me a shadowed look. "Hey, Honey? You didn't perchance have a beer tonight, did you?"

John and Joel each had one of my hands and were pulling me to the floor to play Matchbox cars with them. "Yeah, babes. Just one though."

"Do you think that was a good idea?"

"Sure. It was only one. No sweat and no problem." I flashed her a winning smile and tried to reassure her with my eyes.

"Ok, if you say so."

Even though she gave me her understanding, something about the cast to the face and her stance let me know that she wasn't totally convinced. For myself I was confident. I had gone for a month without even so much as a taste, and when I was presented with the temptation, I only had one. Piece of cake.

On Friday I was hurrying home after work so Myra could make it to her job in time when I remembered I didn't have any mac and cheese mix in the house and I had promised the boys I would make my special version. So I detoured to the local convenience store and snagged two boxes of Kraft knock-offs, stepping quickly to the counter. While I was waiting for the elderly lady in front of me to make her final scratch-off lottery ticket selection I glanced around and noted that the store was having a sale on Budweiser. Six-pack for $3.25.

"That's a damned good deal," I mused aloud. I had just gotten paid so had a pocket full of money. "I'm not going to drink them cold, but it couldn't hurt to have a 6-pack sitting around if I have another rough day." I picked it up and paid for it with my cheap blue boxes, nodding to myself that this wasn't a problem. Not at all.

Once home I gave Myra a kiss goodbye and she dashed off to work, promising her I'd be "up and ready" when she came home. The boys wanted to know what I meant and I had to laugh as they talked about staying up and ready with me all night; not understanding the dual meaning of my words. I made dinner, fixing the mac and cheese with a handful of diced tomatoes, a quarter pound of ground beef, and sprinkled on top with a small amount of bread crumbs to bring it all together. We ate dinner with gusto, and I had to stop them from finishing it off since we wanted to have a little bit left for Myra to eat when she came home.

After dinner the boys wanted to watch a movie so I went to the cabinet and pulled out Monster's Inc. and let them relax on the couch while Mike and Sully had their misadventures around the factory. I was sitting back, relaxing with my sons and decided that I was doing well enough to have a beer. I popped the can and it gave the welcoming hissing pop that let you know, "Hey, I'm here!" I drank it slowly, sipping it and pausing for a long time between swallows.

When the movie was over I had the boys get into the pj's and gave them a half hour in their room to wind down, which allowed me the chance to sit with the bills for this week and have a second beer. Just two Jimmy. No need for any more. Is this a problem? No, I don't think so. No problem here. It's just a second beer. Don't worry about it.

Yeah, this is ok.

By 9:30 I had my sons under the covers and lights out and I put the remaining 4 beers in the back of the fridge behind the bread and lettuce on the bottom shelf. Just getting it out of the way, don't need it taking up the top shelf in here. Again, it's all cool.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, gargled with a little mouthwash and turned down the covers in the bedroom. I stripped down to just a pair of boxers and waited for Myra to come home. I didn't have to wait long before I heard her pull up and come in to the house. "Hey, Honey!" She called out with an exhausted edge to her voice.

"Hey, babes. How was your night?"

"Long. Soooo long." She kicked off her shoes and plopped down at the kitchen table. "Oooo, Jimmy Mac & Cheese. Someone loves me."

I pushed the container closer to her and slid a fork over as well. "Eat, babes. Just relax." I stepped behind her and ran my large hands slowly through her hair, caressing her scalp with the pads of my fingers.

"Oh god. I'll give you two hours to stop that." She shuddered, trying to eat with shaking hands as I massaged the stress out of her head. "Keep that up, Mr. Skelly, and you'll find yourself the recipient of one very happy wife."

"That sounds like a good idea." I shifted my hands to her shoulders and pushed down, sliding the palms of my hands out and squeezing slightly with my fingers. As her flesh rippled under my touch I slithered my hands back up to her neck and traced my way back again down her shoulders and back.

As the minutes passed by she grew looser and more boneless, eventually slumping down to the tabletop, her hair fanning in front of her face, her cheeks pressed against the cool surface. "Oh, James," she sighed.

I kept it up for a few more passes and then lifted her from her chair and carried her to the bed where I propped her head back on the pillow and got her comfortable. With slow deliberate movements I stripped off her clothing one piece at a time until she was naked and soft and waiting for me.

I crawled between her legs , my face inching its way up her left thigh with small kisses and then her right; working my way closer and closer to her crotch. Her pubic hair was matted flat from her pants so I ran my fingers through her brown triangular patch, awakening her hair and stimulating her skin. My fingers dipped through the lips of her pussy with gentle continuous pressure, parting her flesh and opening her inner secrets to me. Pink and inviting; calling to me.

My lips found their way there and then my tongue pushed out, tasting the tangy sweetness of my wife's core. I licked her lower lips with deep heavy strokes, causing her thighs to tighten against my head, muffling my hearing. I could still make out her moans of encouragement which spurred me on to further oral activity. I shifted upward and rooted around until I could feel her clit between my own lips. I sucked on it softly, flicking the tip of my tongue repeatedly against the head, getting a raspy gasp torn from Myra's throat as she arched her hips. I could feel her pussy heating up against my face, her movements become wildly erratic as she struggled to keep her molten cleft against my hungry mouth.

I placed one hand under her ass to hold her in place and my other one crawled over his stomach and ribs to grab her left tit and roll her nipple. "Holy shit!" she cursed, sucking in a lungful of air as she grabbed my head with her own hand and held me in place with a sudden burst of strength.

"Ahh! James!"

My mouth was bathed in a small trickle of growing moisture and I could feel her legs and calves spasming against my shoulders as her orgasm ripped through her body. She jerked and twisted and bounced as I ate her on and on until her motions grew weak and she tried to push me away, muttering, "No more, no more. Jimmy. Oh god. Oh."

I wiped my mouth clean with one hand, pushed my way up her body, and placed Little Jimmy at the entrance of her pussy; pushing him home with a slow steady insistent single thrust. We both groaned in unison as I was sheathed inside her, my crotch hard against hers. I pulled back and pushed in, and then again and again.

Within a few minutes I was fucking my wife with steady abandon, holding myself up by one arm as my cock drove in and out, deeper and deeper. I was breathing like a bellows, almost huffing I was banging away so hard. She had regained her own strength and was raising herself up to meet my own thrusts, our skin hitting each other with sweat dampened slapping sounds.

And then like a freight train my orgasm hit me and I felt my legs lock in place. "Fuck, fucking fuck! Myra! Fuck!" My cum blasted out deeply into the heart of her pussy, my wife encouraging me by pulling my hips against hers and grinding her twat on my cock. I stayed like that until the last of my essence was gone and a wave of lethargy stole over me. "Fucking shit, babes. That was fucking awesome."

I slumped over to the side, Little Jimmy popping free with a wet slithering squish, hugging Myra to my chest as sleep overtook us both.

The next day I awoke feeling terrific, getting up before everyone. I had my morning piss and then made my way to the kitchen to see what I wanted for breakfast. While rooting around I remembered the Budweisers and took out a can, popping it open and taking a drink. Damned that was good. I sipped it again, drinking deeper until the last of it ran down my throat with a golden warming glow. I crushed the can in one hand and tossed it towards the garbage where it went in with a metallic clank.

"Good morning, Honey," Myra greeted me, wearing her sleep shirt, her hair tousled from the pillow. She looked at the garbage and frowned. "James, did you just finish a beer?"

I smiled. "Yeah, babes. Just one though."

"Where did the beer come from? I thought we got rid of it all?"

"I did. I bought a 6-pack yesterday, it was on sale."

She looked nervous. "James, do you think it's a good idea to have beer in the house?"

"Sure. Again, I only had one. It's not a problem. Really, don't make this bigger than it really is."

She nodded her head but I could tell that she was unconvinced. "Ok, James. But if I think it's becoming a problem, you won't give me a hard time about getting rid of it, will you?"

"Not a problem, Myra. You won't have to worry because it won't be a problem. Scout's honor."

The days passed one after the other, all through November. Each day was a little bit shorter and colder than the day before. John and Joel were enjoying the coming winter and Myra was working with her mom and my parents on hosting Thanksgiving dinner.

I didn't even notice that I was drinking a beer or two a day anymore. It just seemed normal, nothing special. So when I went to three, and then four, it didn't faze me at all. I saw that Myra was growing worried and tried to ask me to stop but each time I reassured her that this was nothing like what I was like before and not to worry, I had this under control.

When I went to shoot pool with Timmy the week before Thanksgiving, it seemed natural that we would play for shots, something we had done before. So when I had beat him three games to two I was feeling no pain. I realized that maybe I shouldn't have had the last whiskey so I switched to soda to sober up a little. Being that I didn't want to risk driving drunk, we didn't leave the pool hall until 11 which meant after dropping Tim at home I didn't get back to my house until almost 12.

It was slow and insidious but it crept up on me even when I was looking for it. As Thanksgiving was even closer, only two days away, Myra was almost constantly bitchy with me and nothing I did was right anymore. Give me a fucking break, I'm doing my best. Plus I was tired all the time. I gave up on jumping rope as I couldn't top 30 jumps without getting winded or tripping over the fucking cord. And Doug was being a hard ass for no reason. Frankly everything was going to shit and I had no idea why everyone was dumping their crap on me.

"James, I need to talk to you," was how it started after I had John and Joel put to bed.

"Fuck, Myra. Now what? It's late and I've got fucking work in the morning. Tomorrow's the last day before the holiday break and Doug's been an absolute prick to me."

"James, your drinking is getting out of control again."

I scowled. "Back on this shit again? Come on, babes. I told you, I've got it. It's not a problem, so don't make it one."

"James you seem to be drinking all the time. And you promised me, you promised you wouldn't do this." She was wringing her hands together, clutching the dishtowel like a lifeline. "I want you to stop."

"Fine!" I threw my hands up. "I'll stop, happy?"

"No, I mean it."

"So do I! What the fuck do you want me to do, fill out a form?"

"James. Please. It's the holidays."

"I know it's the holidays. Fuck like I don't know? Didn't I go to the store today and buy cranberry sauce and gravy and a bunch of other shit you asked?" I was getting upset and it bothered me that I was getting upset. Why the fuck were you getting upset, James? Calm the fuck down.

"James, please calm down."

Whoa, trippy. She said the same thing I was thinking. "I'm calm. I am, Myra. You're getting me upset. Deal, I'll not drink and you'll not nag me, ok?"

She had tears running down her face as she turned away, whispering, "I can't."

"You can't? Can't what? Not nag me? Is that what you can't do?"

She said nothing, going to the bedroom and shutting the door. I sat in the kitchen, scowling and feeling like crap. "Nice going, Dickface." I looked at my nails, chewing on the pinky one absently. "Do you like making your wife cry? Tough guy asshole macho douchebag, making a woman cry. You make me sick, James. Sick, sick, sick." Disgustedly I went to the couch and lay down on it, falling asleep to the quiet sounds of the settling house.

I awoke the next morning to Myra shaking my shoulder, my brain confused as to why I was looking at the TV room and wondering how come I was on the sofa. "James! James! Wake up, you overslept!"

"Huh?" I rolled off the couch to the tune of a hundred screaming muscles, my back popping wildly as I straightened up and stretched it back into place. "What the fuck?" I staggered towards the TV until I could read the clock.

6:38.

"Fucking shit!" I roared. "I'm going to be fucking late!" I flew passed Myra and ran into the bedroom, tossing my boxers into the hamper and quickly getting dressed. I pulled my boots on one at a time, lacing them up quickly while I struggled into my sweatshirt. I skipped down the hall to the bathroom; I could hear Myra in the kitchen banging something around and the door to the fridge slamming. "Nothing difficult, Myra! I have to go!" I squirted toothpaste into my mouth directly and began reaming my face with the dry toothbrush in a brutal rapid pistoning motion.

"Toast, James! That's all, toast and butter! Can you get a coffee at work?"

I spit in the sink and yelled back, "When the roach coach comes, I will." I washed out my mouth and then splashed water on my face, rubbing it in. My hair looked like...like I slept on the fucking couch. Fuck. I warmed up the water and dunked my head under the faucet, rubbing it around until I was soaked. Then I dried it with a quick pass of the towel and combed it back with a half dozen sharp tugs of the hair brush.

Good enough.

I ran into the kitchen just in time to put on my jacket, take the two pieces of buttered toast from Myra's hand, and give my wife a single scorching kiss. "I'm a dick, babes. Sorry about last night."

She shook her head and waved me away towards the door. "Don't worry. Just watch yourself today. Run, it's 6:47. Go, drive safe! I love you!"

"I love you, too!" I ran out to my baby, almost swallowing my first piece of toast whole. I started her up, pulled out of the driveway, and gunned the engine, chirping the tires as I sped away from home and towards my job.