28 comments/ 44780 views/ 6 favorites Consequencies By: fawguy88 A story of a man's descent into alcoholism and it's consequences * Chapter 1 -- Beginnings My name is Adam Biggs and I am an alcoholic! I'm in remission not recovering, one never recovers from this addiction. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with this illness, and make no mistake, it is an illness. It cost me my job, my marriage and my children before I finally accepted the truth about my condition and sought help. The price I paid was far too high and I wish that I could wipe the slate clean and start again. At the time this all kicked off, I had been married to Alison for eighteen years and we had two wonderful children, Jane and Alistair, aged 16 and 14 respectively. I say kicked off, but I subsequently learned our problems went back further than that. Alison was and still is a beautiful woman. She is five foot six tall with dark auburn hair. When we first met she wore it in a pony tail, but after we married she had it cut short for speed and convenience. Despite having two children, she retained her figure, with only a slight thickening around her hips. We first met at school and I was attracted to her instantly. She had the type of figure that no matter what she wore, it always looked chic and elegant on her. When I first asked her for a date, I was spurned. Undeterred, I refused to give up and kept trying every couple of weeks until she finally accepted. We started going steady, but not exclusive at first. She dated other boys and I never quizzed her about her other dates. I think the fact that I accepted that she dated other guys and didn't push her for details piqued her. I also had a few other girlfriends and I believe she must have been more jealous than me as she always seemed to find out who I was seeing and just how far the girl in question allowed me to go. She was right more often than not. After leaving sixth form, Alison attended a stage school in London. She had the ambition and talent to be an actress and that was her goal. Her course was scheduled to last for three years so we parted as friends. It was to be five years before our paths crossed again. I, on the other hand remained in our home town and started work as a trainee salesman in the service sector. It was mostly boring but I learned the basics of selling and after a few years, moved on to work for a major HGV Distributor called PACKERS Goods Vehicles or PGV for convenience. About this time I was still living at the home of my Uncle John. My parents died in a major pile up on the Motorway when I was twelve and my uncle and aunt took me in and cared for me. They were a childless couple and I grew to love them both as they loved me. Sadly, my aunt died of cancer when I was twenty and Uncle John started drinking more and more heavily. Fortunately, he had some good friends who helped him to steer him off the self destructive path he was on and he stopped drinking almost overnight. I was good at my job and soon started to move up the ladder. Selling Goods Vehicles is hard work. A sales man has to know his customers very well and coupled with this, he also needs to understand their business. PGV was selected as the launch dealership for a new Goods Vehicle manufactured by Volvo. My boss offered me the chance to develop the whole sales programme, who to target, prepare the launch promotion and organise the whole thing. Most of the planning was pretty easy, Volvo would provide all the promotional material, the trucks and most of the budget, all I had to do was deliver the sales! The main launch plan I developed was a sort of track day, but instead of fast cars, we would have two of the new wagons on static display and two more available for our customers to take out on the track, ungoverned. I proposed to let our customers try them out and to give them the chance to have a thrash flat out round the circuit. My boss accepted this plan, but wanted some models to decorate the static vehicles and tempt the customers to stay on and enjoy the day. Sex sells was his motto. I struggled to find a company that could provide suitable models, then, I remembered Alison. We had kept in touch and even dated on occasion when she was at home visiting her parents. We got on well together, but the trouble was her career was London based and she was reluctant to give up her lifestyle. She had attended Stage School and her ambition was to be an actress. She had yet to make the breakthrough and was still confident that she would. She freely admitted she was struggling to make a living as an actor, but modelling had helped to supplement her earnings. I contacted her and explained my problem. She told me to give her a couple of days and that she would get back to me. She did better than that and was on the phone the next morning with costs and told me she was emailing me some photographs of models for selection. That afternoon I had a review meeting with my boss and was able to present him with the complete package and budget projections. He reviewed the presentation and gave me the go ahead on the spot. The promotion went like clockwork and the models were a great success with our customers. Scantily clad models draped over and behind the wheel these huge articulated lorries kept the punters interested all day. It took a few months but the orders for the new vehicles soon started to come in. Alison and I spent a lot of time together planning the event and before long became an item. As our feelings deepened and passions mounted we started to explore each other's bodies more intimately. Her breasts and ears are particularly sensitive and once I had discovered this, I exploited it to the full. Almost straight away, I discovered that she was an adventurous lover and quite the exhibitionist, I guess it was the actress in her. She loved screwing where there was an element of risk attached. We did it in the car, parked in our local lover's lane. We did it once on the beach during a weekend getaway and even in a gent's toilet on the promenade. That last time we did get caught and two elderly men got quite an eyeful. I tried to stop and pull out so we could compose ourselves and escape, but she just wrapped her legs around me and refused to stop until I exploded within her. She also had a massive orgasm and as we disengaged, made sure the two old gents got a good view of her pussy and the residue of our loving slipping slowly down her inner thighs. Once we had dressed we made a hurried exit but not before Alison stopped and kissed them both on their cheeks. I think they were so shocked at what they had witnessed, that they could only stand there flabbergasted! I could not get enough of her and we continued much of our courtship in the same vein. Two years later, we got married. We set up house together in our home town but she continued to work and had some success in TV commercials. Things were starting to look up for her when she got cast in a daytime TV soap as the bitchy, opinionated catalyst that provides the other actors a foil to work against. Then she got pregnant with Jane! She was at a loss to understand how as she was on the pill, but the doctor told her that the only sure method of birth control was total abstinence, even the pill was not full proof. Alison was worried that the soap producers would cancel her contract, but to her surprise they wrote her pregnancy into the storyline. Her part suddenly started to grow as did her belly, they even wanted to record the baby's birth, but I stopped that in its infancy. I think Alison was disappointed with me but didn't push it. After Jane was born, Alison pegged back on her career. She committed herself to being a fulltime wife and mother. We settled into life of domestic harmony that was to last for the next four or five years. During this time, Alistair was born. We were now the complete family. Alison was a good mother and her love for our babies shone through. She was the one who got up in the middle of the night when they were little, well most of the time anyway. She would spend hours with them, teaching them to pronounce words and reading stories to them from the dozens of children's books we had. When our youngest, Alistair started at school, Alison approached me and told me that she wanted to return to work. We discussed the ramifications. My concerns were that our family life would suffer. Actors work some funny hours and could take them away from home for long periods. Alison assured me that she would only consider roles that she could fit in during the day and not involve any overnight assignments. We agreed to give it a try and Alison contacted her agent. He was delighted that she was resurrecting her career and she soon had auditions to attend and she picked up some work doing voice overs for commercials. True to her word, during those first couple of years, Alison was always there for us and we were a happy close knit family. Our sex life was about as good as it gets. We made love four or five times a week and rarely had any arguments. Chapter 2 - Changes The first signs of change came around eight years ago. Alison accepted a role in a new play. The issue was that the theatre was in London and meant long days during the rehearsals and commute times added meant that she was out of the house before seven in the morning and returning well after seven in the evening. We could live with that during rehearsals but once the play opened, to great success, she was absent from our lives till going on midnight most nights. The travel was just too much, so she made arrangements to stop overnight at the flat of one of her fellow actresses. At first, she would only do this once or twice a week, but gradually over the next weeks it got that she was away three or four nights a week. Her contract allowed her one day off every week and that became our lifeline, but the strain was telling on our marriage. Our sex life was now virtually on hold and even though we all travelled up to London every other weekend to spend some time with her, Alison was getting harder to communicate with. Meanwhile, I had two young children to care for in addition to my demanding job. Her mother was a godsend, she came over every day with an evening meal prepared and was there when the kids returned from school. I drifted into the habit of having a couple of drinks every night. The kids were not alone in missing Alison! The event that triggered my suspicions that maybe she was being unfaithful, was the awards season. They are traditionally held in early January each year and this year was no exception. You know the kind of thing, when the TV, Film and theatre crowd get together to pat themselves on the back. Alison was nominated for an award as supporting actress and she phoned and asked me to accompany her to the dinner and ceremony. I thought this was a great chance to try and mend bridges, so I arranged for her mother to babysit and joined Alison at her shared flat. I showered and changed into my penguin suit and then waited until Alison was dressed to join me. She looked absolutely fabulous and my erection was quite painful. I complimented her on her gown and she hugged me, but when I tried to kiss her, I was rebuffed with, "I've spent ages on my makeup, please don't spoil it for me." At the dinner, I was introduced to Michael Adams, the play director and some of the cast. Also at the table was Marcus Ward, the producer and a couple of others. Marcus was a big man around six feet tall and around fifty five years old I would have guessed, but he was running to fat now and looked even older. The dinner and the awards went on and on, but finally it was over. Alison duly won her award and thanked everyone and his dog for their help and support throughout her career. I guess I was the only one to notice that she made no mention of me or our children, who probably made the biggest sacrifice of all and that hurt. She re-joined me at our table and accepted the kisses and hugs from everyone seated at the table or nearby. No restrictions on kissing now she was pretty enthusiastic now, all thoughts about disturbing her makeup long forgotten. I felt as though I was being deliberately ignored, so I helped myself to the abundant bottles of wine on the table. Eventually, it was time to leave. I was impatient to get back to the flat and keen to strip that gown off her. I wanted her so badly, but Alison insisted we had to attend a party that the producers of the play were hosting, so I hid my disappointment and reluctantly tagged along. The alcohol was flowing at the party and I was introduced to so many people that I lost track of the time. I was drinking steadily and needed to relieve myself, so I found the toilet. Unfortunately, there was a queue and as I stood there behind two striking young ladies, I overheard them talking about Alison. One said, "Of course, I heard that she only got the part because she was prepared to spread her legs for the Marcus Ward and his backers!" The other woman giggled and said, "Well good luck to her. My friend went out with him and told me he liked rough sex. She said she could hardly walk or sit down for days afterwards, so she'll earn every plaudit she gets. Here's another bit of gossip I heard from a contact in the theatre told me that he keeps her at his beck and call and she can never get her day off to see her kids. He insists that she be available to service him whenever the mood takes him. It's her husband I feel sorry for, he's at home looking after the kids, while she fucks around on him." I was struck dumb, they must be mistaken! My Alison would never cheat on me, but as I struggled to digest what I had heard, a little imp in the back of my head kept whispering in my ear, that what I had overheard would account for some of our problems. I tried to dismiss it, but it was to remain a persistent irritation every time I looked at her. I escaped from the queue and went outside for some fresh air and peed in the bushes, trying to decide what to do with the information I had overhead. I was more composed when I returned to the party and went to find Alison. I soon found her at the centre of a group of men including Marcus and the four other co-producers. She informed me that these were some of the backers of the play. I tried to keep myself under control, if just some of the backers turned out to be four men, how many more were there and how many did she have to fuck to get the role? The conversation was a little stilted and Marcus Ward in particular seemed ill at ease in my presence. I wondered if he had a guilty conscience. I was tempted to confront her there and then, but I had no proof and after all the gossips could be wrong. I decided to maintain my silence and Alison asked me to get her another drink. That gave me an excuse to leave their company. I thought I saw a look of relief on the producer's face's as I left them. I got another drink for Alison and after I had handed it to her with a quick signal that I wanted to leave soon, but she shook her head and turned her back on me to continue her discussion with her admirers. I felt left out and abandoned once more, so I sought solace at the bar. In short, I drank myself legless before nodding off in an armchair. It must have been an hour or so later that I was jerked out of my sleep by a kick to my shins. Alison was ready to leave and clearly disgusted with me. Me, I was still too drunk to care. The next morning things were icy, no that's wrong, they were Artic! I tried to apologise for my excesses of the evening before, but she called me a drunk and accused me of ruining her big night plus a lot of other things besides, none of them complementary. I wanted to talk about our marriage but clearly that wasn't going to happen that day. She stormed out the flat and said, she would talk to me when she returned. She never said where she was going. Sometime later, I got a call from her mother telling me that Alistair was poorly, she thought it was appendicitis and she was so worried, she had asked the Doctor to call. I told her that I would catch the next train home and packed my overnight gear. Before I left, I tried to call Alison on her mobile, but it went straight to voicemail, so I wrote Alison a short note explaining briefly my reason for my early departure. I never expanded on what the problem was with Alistair, just that he was unwell. Let her do something for herself, I thought, if she really cared for us anymore! When I got back, two hours later, Alistair was in the City Hospital and undergoing an Appendectomy. Alison's parents were there as was Jane. We greeted each other with hugs and my mother told me he had just gone into surgery. The surgeon had told them that the prognosis as good, Alistair was young and fit and that there was no reason for undue concern. Alison's parents asked where Alison was and I said simply, "I have no idea! I tried to call her several times from the train and had to leave messages each time." Her mother got out her phone and tried to call her daughter with the same result. After what seemed like ages, the surgeon came out and told us the operation went perfectly and that we would be able to see Alistair in an hour or so when he had recovered from the anaesthetic. A couple of hours later, we were all sitting round his bed chatting when Alison stormed into the ward looking like she was ready to slay anyone who impeded her. She wasted no time berating me for not telling her that her son was ill and would not listen to hear any responses. Her father grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly out of the ward telling her to get herself under control. I moved to follow them, but her mother stepped in front of me and said, "Best leave it to her father, son. You are like a son to both of us and maybe a few home truths from her dad will be more effective this time." I could see the sense in that and turned back to reassure Alistair and Jane that their mother was just strung out with the pressures if her work. Ten minutes later, a contrite Alison came in and apologised to everyone for her behaviour. Her concern for Alistair had gotten the better of her. She hugged Alistair and after finding out that he was getting better, proceeded to regale everyone about her triumph at the awards ceremony. Visiting time was over in a blink and we departed. When we reached the Foyer there stood Marcus Ward obviously waiting for Alison. I said nothing and brushed past him, I guess I now had the truth of the rumour. I waited in the car with Jane while Alison stood talking animatedly with her friend Marcus. I watched as she turned to leave him, but he pulled her round and they kissed goodbye, not that unusual, but she had kissed him on the lips! Alison joined us in the car and acted as if there was nothing untoward about what we had just witnessed. Jane was clearly upset and challenged her mother about the kiss. "What's with you and him? That was more than a thank you kiss!" She said pointing at Marcus. "Are you and Dad getting a divorce or separating?" she asked. Good question, I thought as the same one was on my lips as well and I had heard the rumours. Jane couldn't have any knowledge of the rumours so her question was very perceptive. Alison replied, "Of course not, I was thanking Marcus for bringing me all the way from London today." "When are you returning to your job? I ask because I think Alistair needs you here at this time." I asked her. "I'll stop over tonight and return tomorrow afternoon in time for the evening performance. He's out of danger now and I'm sure you and Mum can cope until he gets out of Hospital. I'll arrange to take time off during his convalescence." She replied. I was really pissed off with her reply and let my anger get the better of me. "You are something else, you know that!" I exploded. "Our son is still in Hospital and all you can think about is getting back to your fucking career! Maybe, just maybe, you will want to reflect on that decision because if you don't there will be consequences that neither you nor I can control or foresee!" Consequencies We arrived home and it was a tight lipped Alison that went upstairs to our bedroom and did not reappear that night. At one point, I took her up some sandwiches and coffee. I knocked on the door and she opened it and took the tray from me without comment. She had her phone to her ear as she took the tray and closed the door in my face. I slept in Alistair's bed that night and for the next few nights as well. In the morning over breakfast, Alison informed Jane and me that she had reconsidered and decided to take a sabbatical from the play until Alistair was fully recovered. She also made it very clear that she was doing this under duress and that I was the one being held responsible. Over the next few weeks Alison tried very hard to make things right between our children and her. I was allowed back in our bedroom and we even had sex a couple of times, but I felt her heart was not really in it. It felt like pity sex and the love we once shared was missing. Within three weeks Alistair was back to normal and Alison informed us that she was going back to her role on stage in London the following week. She did make a few concessions and promised that she would be home every other night and for the first two weeks she was. The first time she failed to turn up, I phoned worried that something had happened as she had not contacted us. It was well after one in the morning and she was normally back by around twelve. Her phone was answered by Marcus Ward. He explained that Alison as in the shower and would ring me back which she duly did. I immediately asked why she was still in London and she came up with some lame excuse about feeling too tired to come home tonight. I asked her rather pointedly, "Why is he there?" She must have heard the anger in my voice as she tried to placate me by promising to be home tomorrow. I had enough and said, "I notice you failed to answer my question, so I'LL ask you once more, WHY IS MARCUS IN YOUR ROOM AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT? DOES THAT MAKE MY QUESTION CLEAR ENOUGH OR DO I NEED TO SPELL IT OUT TO YOU?" She replied, "He was just leaving, I'll talk to you tomorrow!" Then she hung up! I started on the Whisky and when that was finished, the Vodka washed it done nicely. She failed to come home the following night and I called her once more and was forced to leave a message telling her not to bother coming home unless it was for good. I started hitting the bottle heavily. With hindsight it was clear that I was simply running away from confronting the problems with my marriage. It was easier to drown my problems than face up to them, my marriage may well be over. Soon this habit grew and I was drinking a bottle of spirits every night after the kids had gone to bed. It didn't matter what it was, Gin, Whisky, Rum you name it I drank it. Alison eventually returned home one night after the show and found me passed out in the chair, the empty bottle still clutched to my chest. She went ballistic and accused me of being totally irresponsible. What if something had happened, like a fire or something! I was still half drunk as I mumbled something in response to the effect that if she was at home more often, then the situation would not have arisen. All hell broke loose after that and though I tried to mend the bridges, she was still livid when we went to bed. The following day was a Saturday, so no work for me at least. Alison spent some time with the kids before having to leave for London. She didn't say a word to me before she left. I tried to make amends, by sending her flowers to her dressing room and calling her repeatedly on her phone, but never got any response. She failed to come home the following week, even on her day off. She did phone the kids on their mobiles every day, but made no effort to contact me. I started drinking more, one bottle was not enough to dull my loneliness. Apart from the kids and me, her mother naturally was the one to notice her absence and forced me to sit down and face the issue. I told her about our troubles and she told me she would try and talk some sense into her daughter. Alison came home the next night and we had a long heart to heart at last. I don't know what her mother said to her, but she was in a far more conciliatory mood. She accepted that her present job was the root cause of our problems and told me that she had decided to quit. She would have to give them two week's notice and that she would email them that night. I challenged her about her relationship with Marcus Ward and she assured me that she had not had affair with him or anyone else. She was very convincing, after all, she was an actress and in any case. I wanted desperately to believe her. I decided to let sleeping dogs lie. She also got her digs in about my excessive drinking and I promised to curtail it and I did even though I refused to admit even to myself that I was overdoing it. The make up sex was fantastic and the only thing I did notice was that she started to talk dirty to me while we were screwing. It was strange, while we always talked during our love making before, the difference was that now she was describing her fantasies to me and encouraging me to do the same. I asked her where this new twist came from and she told me that her flatmate and her had nothing much to do during the day, so they got into discussing their deepest hidden fantasies to each other. She asked me if I found this change to our love life disturbing and I told her that as long as they remained fantasies, then I had no issue with it. From then on we used introduced more and more wild themes into our sex life. One she was particularly fond of involved her being screwed while on stage in front of me and a host of other men! I got to enjoy it just as much as she did. The next few years were once more settled and Alison picked up enough work locally to keep her busy. Pressure at my work was getting steadily more onerous. The trade was going through a hard spell, the recession was looming and one of the first effects was that companies held onto their fleets longer. This coupled with the high fuel costs meant that our customers were holding back on reinvesting so trying to sell in that market was stressful. My boss was not really interested in excuses, it was my job to sell product and I was told in no uncertain terms that if I couldn't cut it, he would get someone who could. Once more, my drinking took control of my life. I used the excuse that it was due to the pressure at work. In an effort to close a deal with one of my customers, I took him out to a nice restaurant and entertained him, perhaps too well. We were both as pissed as farts and were at the stage where the dirty jokes were being told and I had just suggested that we move on to a local lap dancing club. We were both very drunk and unfortunately unknown to either of us, his wife had employed a Private Investigator as she was looking for evidence to support her bargaining position in their upcoming divorce. She got all she needed that night complete with photographs. She also sent copies to my employer and wife. The following morning the customer called my boss and told him that we had lost his business and why. My boss called me in to his office and fired me on the spot. Alison she was livid that I actually went to a lap dance club. When she saw the photographs of me with a naked woman rubbing her tits in my face she went ballistic once more. The feeble excuse that it was just business cut no ice with her. Needless to say, thing were pretty frigid around the house for the next month. Unemployed and unemployable! At first I thought that with my track record, I would have little problem getting another job in sales. Opportunities were few and to even get an interview was tough. I had a couple of really good interviews, thought I had a good chance of securing the job, but each time got knocked back. The word had gone round about my drinking and my self-confidence suffered. I got into the habit of having a few wind down drinks each night. Alison still wasn't being very responsive to me, so my few drinks soon became more, much more and I was left to sleep on the couch more often than not. Alison gave up trying to stop me drinking. I wouldn't have paid any attention anyway. Our marriage was heading only one way and I was too pissed to realise it! The children were in their mid-teens when Alison was offered a role in a new late night drama series or adult soap opera. This soap differed from the usual day or early evening format as it was to be broadcast after the watershed hour of nine o'clock in the evening. This enabled the writers of the storyline to embrace far more mature themes. Alison's role was to be the provocative sexpot, the one who flirts with other women's husbands, dresses daringly and exudes sex appeal. Alison played that kind of part extremely well, after all it almost came naturally to her. All through our marriage, Alison had played up to all our male friends. The doubts that I had about her fidelity resurfaced when I discovered that the series was to be produced by none other than Marcus Ward! The first series was to consist of thirteen hour long episodes and filming was to be in the production company's Manchester Studios, with external scenes shot mostly in the Liverpool area. Alison accepted the part, there was no discussion, she simply announced that she had accepted the role. This meant that once again she would be unable to return home each evening and that she would rent a flat during the shooting. The filming was scheduled to last five months. Since she was the sole bread winner in the family I could hardly object. By this stage I was only sober first thing in the morning and by lunch time I needed a pick me up to help me through the day. I was not drunk, I had learned to hold my liquor by this stage, but by evening I was if not plastered, I was well oiled. I guess Alison was getting desperate about my drinking and she worried about leaving the children in my care, or that's what she told me. In an effort to get me to stop, contacted my Uncle John and he came over and tried to get me to see just what I was doing to myself and my marriage. I refused to accept that I had a problem and continued as before. Alison simply washed her hands and gave up. She made arrangements with her mother to once again do the honours and keep an eye on our children. She clearly didn't trust me to do that either. That hurt. Once Alison had moved temporarily to Manchester, I realised that things were getting desperate and made an effort to reconnect with my kids. I thought I was doing quite well, I had cut down of my drinking and tried to re-establish relations with Alison, but she was reluctant to discuss our problems on the phone. One day after she had been absent for about two weeks, I went up to the studio in Manchester to try and patch things up. At first I had problems even getting in the door. Security was tight and I had to get one of the assistant floor managers or some such to vouch for me before I was allowed on set. I was warned not to interrupt once the red light was on as they were going for a take. They were shooting a 'raunchy scene' as the assistant informed me and not to disturb Alison while she was working, so I stood at the back and observed. Alison had told me that the new show was going to be targeted at adults, but I didn't realise that she would be naked in some of the scenes! I watched as she and some guy, I later found out he was called Paul, performed a deep passionate kiss and slowly sank onto the sofa on the set. The man she was kissing only had a pair of boxer shorts on and Alison had a silk rope loosely tied at the waist. She slowly shrugged her shoulders and the robe dropped to the floor revealing her breasts to everyone's gaze. Her partner then dropped his head down to kiss her breasts and nibble at her swollen nipples. She in the meantime was groping at his erection through the shorts. His hand then moved between her thighs and caressed her neatly trimmed pussy and her legs spread to give him all the access he needed. Obviously, the editor was going to be busy tidying this scene up, there was no way that exposed erect genitalia could be broadcast on a public network in the UK. Even so, I felt myself get an erection as I watched my wife making love to this man. If she was just acting aroused, she was a better actress than I gave her credit for. The scene came to an abrupt end when the poor bastard, Paul, no doubt stimulated by Alison's administrations ejaculated all over Alison's belly and tits. The director, Julian, called it a wrap and everybody burst out laughing, much to Paul's discomfiture. Alison was handed some tissues and cleaned herself of his spunk. They tried again and this time they got it right. Julian had to call cut again before the pair slowly drew apart and smiled into each other eyes. A blind man could see that the lust in their eyes as he pulled her to her feet. She bent down and gathered her robe and ever so slowly pulled it back on. The director called lunch at that point and Alison walked over to Julian seeking reassurance that the scene was not too graphic. Julian kissed her and taking her hand they strolled hand in hand towards the dressing rooms. I watched as they disappeared into the same room. I quickly crossed over and without knocking just barged right in. He robe had been discarded once more and he was on his knees with his head buried between her spread thighs! She was holding onto his head forcing him deeper into her pussy. She looked up to see who had disturbed them and when she realised it was me she tried to push him away, but he had his hands gripping her bum cheeks and was not ready to surrender his prize. She hissed at him to get off and he reluctantly let her go. When he saw me, his face turned pale and he looked for a way to escape, except there was none apart from going through me. As he stood up, I thumped him once high on his cheek and again more accurately on his jaw. That was all it took, he went down and stayed down. Alison had taken the opportunity to pull her robe back on and just sat there waiting for me to say something. When I refused to react as she expected, she said simply, "I want a divorce!" I'm not going to remain married to a drunk. Just so you know, he is not the only one that has been benefitting from your failure to perform lately, but he is the best one so far!" So there you have it. I had lost, first my job, now my wife. In the weeks that followed, I was served with the divorce papers. I was drunk most of the time and just stupidly signed anything put in front of me. I found out later that because I neglected to get a lawyer to act on my behalf, I had signed away the house and all our assets. I even lost visitation rights to my children as her lawyer successfully argued I was an alcoholic and not a fit person to be in charge of their welfare for even a short time. I tried to phone them, but she had changed the numbers or something. I was depressed, so I drank and the more I drank, the more depressed I became. My final indignity, this happened some weeks later, was to find myself on the street with the down and out's. We were sharing a bottle someone had acquired when a crowd of young lads started in on us and in our drunken condition, we were in no state to defend ourselves. My abiding memory is lying in a gutter bleeding from several cuts and being pissed on by the youths. Drunk I may have been, but not so drunk that I didn't recognise my own son standing to one side watching as his father was peed on while lying drunk in a gutter. Eventually, the police and ambulance came and I was taken to hospital. I was kept there for a few days due to allow my injuries to heal. Chapter 3 - Consequences The first morning after I was admitted, brought my Uncle John and I was subjected to more than a piece of his mind. He tore a strip off me and when he was finished and started to leave, I called out. "Please Uncle, I need help! I know that I spurned your warnings in the past, but I finally realise that I have major problems with drink and I am begging you to help me?" He paused and looked at me reflectively, as if trying to decide if I was worth the effort. Thank God he did and proceeded to tell me what I needed to do. He told me that it was a hard road that I was embarking on but promised me support would be there when I needed it. His final words to me that morning were, that in the final analysis it was all down to me! I had to want to get my life back on track more than I wanted to find the solution in the bottom of a bottle. I won't bore you with the details, suffice to say he was spot on. It was hard, far harder than I had thought it would be, but with the continuing support of friends in AA I have managed to stay away from alcohol for fifteen months now. As I said at the beginning, I am in remission, not recovering. I am still tempted every time I see people laughing and drinking, but so far I have resisted the temptation. I know what the consequences would be if I succumbed to my weakness. When I was fit enough to be released from the clinic, Uncle John allowed me to return to my old flat in the basement of his property. His home was a ground floor flat in a Victorian Villa. Once a proper family home on three floors, it had been converted into three separate flats years ago. My aunt and uncle had originally just purchased the ground floor flat, but when the opportunity came along they purchased the basement flat as well when it came on the market. I was in my teens around then and he and my aunt decided to buy it with the intention that I would have an independent flat when I left school and started to make my way in the world. I had lived in it as a young man up until I married Alison and now I had returned to my first home once more. Alison by this time had now remarried and her new husband was Julian, the same guy she was fucking when we split up. He was now fully ensconced in my old home, the same one I had paid the mortgage on for most of my married life, but what the hell it was time to move on. I tried to rebuild my relationship with my kids, but I was warned off after my first attempt to make contact with them. Alison's lawyer contacted me and reminded me that the restraining order preventing me from contacting them was still in force. This pissed me off big time. It wasn't as if I had forgotten their birthdays or anything like that. I still sent them both cards with a £50 notes inside, but they never even wrote back to thank me. I checked with a lawyer and he confirmed that since I had signed the divorce paperwork and everything, I had in effect agreed not to have any further contact with my family. He would try and petition to get the Restraining Order lifted, but he felt that I had not been 'dry' long enough to satisfy the court that I had changed my ways. Uncle John had also provided me with a job working with him at his Taxi./Courier company. I manned the phones to start with and also helped with the logistics of running a taxi fleet. One day few months after I started working for him, he was a driver short for a wedding job and he asked me to drive one of the cars. I was more than happy to. Luckily, my driving license was still intact, God knows how. I have never even had to face the dreaded breathalyser and I had certainly been well over the legal limit on many occasions during my previous employment. After that, he started using me to cover peak hours or sickness absences and I got to enjoy it. Saturday nights were one of my favourite nights. Watching how people behave when they have had a few too many was enough to re-enforce my new teetotal lifestyle. I had been dry for about twelve months when Uncle John sadly passed away one night in his sleep. His funeral was attended by so many people that the crematorium was not large enough to hold them all. I was his only living relative and he left everything to me. Suddenly, I was in full charge of a business and responsible for the livelihood of around thirty staff. I took my time and kept the business running more or less in the same fashion as before. I had some ideas about how to make the operation more efficient but hesitated to change what was a successful business. Consequencies Some month's before he passed on, Uncle John had employed a divorced woman who had a young child to support. Her name was Sally Dean and she was employed to look after the payroll and accounts. She was very good at her job, so good that I was able to devote more time in developing new business. Her son, Brian was aged ten and he often came in after school to cadge a lift home. Sally and Brian lived in a rented flat about 5 miles away from the office. After my Uncle's death, I came to rely on Sally more and more. She was an attractive single mother and apart from her son, I knew little about her. Over those first few weeks I came to value her good humour and ability to handle the drivers who constantly tried to get into her pants. I came to work one morning to find Sally very down, not her usual perky self. I watched as she snapped at a couple of the drivers who were flirting with her. Normally, Sally would give as good as she got and I knew the guys respected her and liked her. I waited for things to settle down and went into her office, closing the door behind me. I asked her what was wrong and she burst into tears. Her landlord was evicting her for allegedly allowing her home to be used for prostitution and that she was behind with the rent. She swore that this was totally untrue and the true reason was that she refused to have sex with him. I thought about it for a moment and I had a possible solution. I told her about the flat and that it was fully furnished. All she would need were her family's personal possessions and that it was vacant. I also had to tell her that the staircase leading from the basement to the ground floor had been reinstated when I had lived there before, but that she could lock the door and her privacy was assured. She asked about the rent and I told her a figure that I knew she could afford. It was less than she was paying now. She accepted my offer, sight unseen and I made arrangements to have a van and driver available for her at the weekend to move her stuff. I intended to be the driver. I wanted a word with her present landlord! We had her moved into the flat in a matter of hours and mother and son were delighted with their new home. I handed the key to the door leading to my flat above to her and she handed it straight back. She told me that the door was always open to me and then burst into tears again. Both Brian and I tried to comfort her and she just shook us off and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. She insisted that I come down to dinner with them both that evening as a thank you for my kindness. I was touched and accepted her offer. Over dinner, I noticed that she had only soft drinks on the table and decided not to mention it until Brian was in bed. It was later that same night that I broached the subject and told her that she didn't need to abstain from alcohol just because I was present. She looked at me and then taking a deep breath said, "I thought John would have told you." She said, "I was one on his waifs and strays. I am an alcoholic too and if it wasn't for John, I would have lost my son forever. John was the one who got me to realise that my life was a mess, I was a drunk, homeless and jobless. Brian had been taken into care and I was doing whatever it took to put a roof over my head and get the money for drink. There were a lot of men only too willing to let me share their bed in exchange for a few drinks. Brian knows all about my past and now you do to. It's not something that I'm proud of, but something you too need to know. So now you know about my past and how I lived back then, I suppose you will not be so keen for us to stop in your home?" I rushed to reassure her, "Sally, listen, you did what you had to do! I've been there as well. I have done things that I too am not proud of, what's important is that we have come through the bad times. We have a new chance given to us and it's up to us what we make of it. Now no more talk about the past, it's gone and we can't do anything about it. So let's get on with living!" Having said all that, I kissed her on the forehead and bade her goodnight. I purposely avoided her on the day following, a Sunday and so it was Monday that I called to offer her a lift to work. She was worried that if we appeared entering the office together, that the randy bastards in the garage would put two and two together and make five. I told her I would deal with any comments and sure enough, just as we got out the car one of the lads was stupid enough to make a comment within my hearing. I called them all together and told them in no uncertain terms that any future comments about Sally would be viewed as a disciplinary matter. I also said, "For your information Sally is living with her son in the basement flat in the same building as mine. She doesn't have a car and as we are both coming to work at the same place, it makes sense to travel together and not leave her at the mercy of public transport." This seemed to clear the air and the snickers stopped and normal business was resumed. It's a bit of an occupational hazard, but when two of my drivers were subjected to both verbal and physical assault, action had to be taken. In addition, their cash in hand was also appropriated and this was just plain robbery! The problem was always from the same source, our late night customers who had over imbibed and thought the taxi drivers were fair game. The police took the complaint seriously, but even when the drivers were able to identify the culprits, it came down their word against that of the drivers. Since there were usually two or three yobs involved and no other witnesses, the police said we had no chance of getting a conviction. They were very supportive and promised to increase their presence in the city centre at the weekends, they felt there was little more they could do. The real issue was that the yobs were too smart to try anything in the city centre, they waited until the cab was en-route to what proved to be a fictitious address and got the driver to pull over and that was where the assaults took place. I decided that I would do something to protect my staff, so I arranged for small CCTV cameras to be mounted inside the vehicles. I also had prominent stickers placed in the cabs informing customers that they were being taped. I had the cameras linked to the rear doors of my cabs, so that when the customers opened the door to get in, the camera started recording. I briefed the drivers on the new security measures I had implemented and stressed that I was not trying to catch them out, only ensure their safety. I even told them that I would be taking a cab out the following Friday evening and would work the complete shift with them. True to my word, I worked the shift that Friday evening. I had chosen to drive one of the London Black Cabs famous the world over. Just as the pubs were closing around midnight, I was hailed by some youths. They were standing with a girl who was clearly the worse for drink. Her long dark hair was hiding her face so I was unable to identify her at that point. All five got into the cab and the girl was seated on the rear seat in the middle sandwiched between two of the lads. I had a quick glance to check she was OK and noted that she had very attractive long legs encased in leather boots stretching to just below her knees. From the way her legs were splayed apart, it was clear she was wearing a mini skirt and white panties. Her torso was encased in a crop top that started just below her full breasts, but her hair was still obscuring her face. The guy on the jump seat gave me the address and I started off. I kept glancing in the mirror to check on what my passengers were up to. About halfway to the destination, I took another look in the back as I could hear the girl protesting and then saw her start to struggle. I slowed down immediately and ordered them to stop molesting the girl. They didn't stop and I watched one of the guys with his hand between her spread thighs. I stopped the cab and turned round when one of them said, "Look this slut's been teasing us all night, now she going to get it in spades! Just take us to our destination and we'll let you have a shot at her as well." I was getting angry now and looked again to see the lad's hands were groping her tits and pussy! All the time, she was moaning at them to stop. One of the guys pushed her hair away from her face and I gasped. It was my daughter, Jane they were assaulting! I could not take on four of them so thinking quickly, I started driving again. I pulled up two minutes later outside the local police station. I jumped out the cab and turfed them out. They were starting to argue, when one of them realised where they were and they slunk off before they got into more trouble. Jane was still in the back of the cab, crying softly. I slipped the seat belt on to keep her firmly in the seat and drove her to what used to be my home. I assisted her out of the car and half carried her up to the front door. Judging from the music being played there was a party going on inside. I ended up banging on the door and front window to attract attention. Finally the door opened and standing there in his underpants was Alison's husband, Julian. His penis was fully aroused and making a tent in his underpants. He quickly lost it when I pushed my way past him and up the stairs towards Jane's bedroom. As I passed the open door to the lounge, I could see several couples in various stages of undress and a naked Alison pulling on a robe whilst trying to hurry to see what was going on. I dropped an almost unconscious Jane onto the bed and tried to remove her boots. I glanced round to see where Alison was only to see Julian standing at the foot of the bed, staring at the V between Jane's splayed legs. I could see his erection starting to grow and demanded he leave the room. "You can't order me around in my own home!" he blustered. I retorted loudly, "Get the fuck out before I toss you out!" Alison arrived at that moment and one look at her eyes, I could tell she was high on something. She had traces of white powder in her nostrils and her eyes were pretty glazed over and when she saw the state our daughter was in, they got even wider. The shock of seeing Jane so obviously drunk, must have sobered her up sufficiently to comprehend what was going down. She just pushed Julian out of the room and closed the door. She helped with Jane's boots and then pushed me out too. "I will handle it from here, you have done enough tonight!" I waited downstairs and watched with amusement as their guest searched for their missing items of clothing before departing. I guess I had terminated their party rather early. Julian was sitting on my old recliner drinking a beer straight from the bottle. He got up suddenly and grabbed a half full bottle scotch and pushed it into my hands, "Have a drink on me." He giggled drunkenly. I took the bottle by the neck and stuffed it back into his chest, "The next time you try to be funny, I will shove this bottle right up your arse and smash the fucking thing while it's still inside you!" I snarled. Fortunately, Alison returned at that moment and told him to sit down and sober up. She turned to me and said, "You'd better tell me what happened to Jane?" Alison was still not in any state to understand what had almost happened to our daughter, so I simply ignored her question. "I will be back tomorrow morning at eleven and we will discuss it then. I expect Jane will be sober enough by then and I will explain how she came to be in my cab. I think you should think about why she was out drinking tonight when she's not yet even seventeen never mind eighteen?" "She was supposed to be stopping overnight with one of her friends! Alistair is at his pal's house tonight, that's why we were having a party!" she replied. I couldn't resist saying, "And we both know what kind of party it was, don't we?" "Don't you dare judge me and how I live my life!" she screamed back. "See you tomorrow." Was all I said by way of response as I walked out the door. When I got home that night, Sally was waiting up for me. She had on her dressing gown and handed me a cup of coffee as I got in the door. I asked her why she was still up and she said she had heard all about my incident from one of the other drivers. Ours is a close knit business and word soon gets around, but I was surprised that Sally was part of the grapevine. We sat talking for some time as I explained what had transpired. We discussed it and she thought that I had handled it very well. We were sitting on the settee, so close we were almost touching. I could feel the heat emanating from her thin dressing gown that was doing nothing to disguise her tight body encased within. I moved towards her and kissed her softly on the lips. She threw her arms round my neck and pulled me into a tight embrace. It was clear that the growing attraction I felt for her was reciprocated and I eased back to take the pressure off my constricted cock. She mistook my move as rejection and pulled me down on top of her. Her robe came apart as we wriggled this way and that as we attempted to strip off my clothes. Eventually, I was naked and so was she, we paused for several moments, just looking at each other's bodies. I asked if she was sure that she wanted to continue and she nodded, but said," I think the bed will be a bit more comfortable than this couch." I took her hand and led her upstairs to my bedroom and we wasted little time in taking our pleasures. I delved between her thighs and started to use my tongue on her pussy. She was writhing around and suddenly grabbed my hair and pulled me tightly into her mound. Her orgasm kept on coming until she at last pushed me away and said hoarsely, "I need you inside now!" I moved on top of her in the classic missionary position and she grabbed my cock and helped me to locate it in its proper home. We started slowly as I gently eased my rampant manhood back and forth, gradually building the pace until she started bucking against me as another orgasm ripped through body. "Now, faster now" she demanded and I increased my pace to match the humping pace she clearly desired. I warned her that I was about to come and she wrapped her legs behind my thighs, locking me in position. I exploded within her and slowly backed off the pace. We were both sweating like if we had been in a sauna as we lay there recovering. "Wow!" I said and then asked, "You didn't come with me, did you?" She shook her head and said, "No not this time, but I hope to as soon as you are recovered. You can go more than once a night, can't you?" "Give me a few more minutes and I'll prove to you that I can make love to a beautiful woman like you more than just the once. Mind you, I don't do it for every girl I take to my bed." That earned me a dig in the ribs and we wrestled around some before she noticed that my erection was growing once more. She twisted round and offered herself to me doggy style and I was quick to take advantage. This time, I took my time and kept myself in control until her breathing quickened once more as she started another orgasm. When I was sure she was coming, I let myself go and grabbed a tight hold on her hips and started driving myself into her and pumped my seed into her receptive channel. We managed a third session just before dawn when she awakened my with her mouth all over my morning hard on. We made love slowly and explored each other's bodies. I brought her to another climax before she sat astride me a rode me to completion. It had been a long, long time since I had felt so replete. We kissed some more and she practically jumped out of my arms as her son, Brian casually strolled into the bedroom. "So this is where you are, I looked everywhere downstairs and couldn't find you!" he said with a touch of reproach in his voice. He then looked at us more carefully and asked, "Why are you not wearing your PJ's? You always wear them when you sleep in your own bedroom!" Sally got a fit of the giggles and told him to go and fix himself some cornflakes, she would be down in a few minutes. Once he departed she jumped up, ran into the bathroom and had a quick shower. I was still lying in bed when she emerged and she told me quite sternly, "Don't think you have got away with it this time! I will leave it to you to explain to Brian why I was in your bed and not my own!" And she did. I cobbled some explanation together and could tell I was not getting through to him, so I decided on the truth. I said, "Brian, when a man and a woman like each other an awful lot, they kiss and cuddle and sometimes that leads them to share their bed and comfort one another." I was floundering, hopelessly out of my depth, even the truth is difficult to explain to a ten year old. Brian pondered what I said, then came back with the question I was dreading. "Why weren't you or Mummy wearing any clothes then?" At that point Sally who had been standing at the kitchen door listening avidly to my explanation with tears of mirth slipping down her cheeks and a barely supressed fit of the giggles, took mercy on me and told him, "Sometimes mummy gets sad and lonely after you have gone to sleep and last night, Adam took pity on me and made me very happy." Brian seemed to accept her explanation and went off to play with his toys. Sally usually went into the office on Saturday mornings to check the cash and bank it. The drivers were responsible for keeping it safe overnight and dropped it off at the start of their next shift or first thing Saturday morning. I dropped her and Brian off and made my way to my meeting with my wayward daughter and ex-wife. Before I left for my confrontation with my ex-wife and daughter, I asked Sally to download the camera evidence from the previous evening onto a DVD and then edit out all the other excerpts as I was only interested in one journey. Clutching the DVD, I drove to my old home and arrived bang on time for our meeting. Alison opened the door before I had a chance to ring the bell. She was wearing jeans and tee shirt and I had a rather abstract thought, that she looked absolutely poised and elegant even in jeans. She invited me into the lounge where I was greeted by Jane and Julian sitting there waiting for me to begin. I considered my next move and abruptly ordered Julian out of the room. He was not happy and started to protest, but I just said, "This is a family matter and as Jane is my daughter, not yours, it's none of your business, so get out now or I'll throw you out!" He started to protest, but Alison whispered to him and he went dragging his feet a bit. "Before we discuss what happened to Jane last night, I have a short video you both need to watch. We can talk after that." I pushed the DVD in and switched it on. I had not seen the last nights recording either and as I sat there watching it, I realised that at one point one of the guys had her top and bra pushed up exposing her naked breasts. I heard Jane moan when she saw that bit and she started crying loudly when the other guy on the backseat started playing with her pussy. The final part, where one guy made the offer that I could join in as well caused Alison to shout to our daughter, "How could you let those animals do things to you like that?" Jane was crying very hard now and was unable to answer. I sat down beside her and putting my arm around her talked quietly to her. I was talking so quietly that her mother could not hear what I said, but the words of comfort helped Jane to regain her composure. Alison started to harangue Jane once more, until I told her to can it. I knelt down in front of Jane, took hold of her hands and looked into her teary eyes. "With my history, I am the last one to judge you about your behaviour last night, but take it from one who knows only too well, drink can be a good friend to some, but it's a bad master! It cost me my marriage and my family. I'm not telling you not to drink, I know that's a waste of time. You're young and obviously curious about what life's all about and want to try these things for yourself. What I am trying to make you understand, that there are lots of people out there who will try to take advantage of you. If you are drinking in future, make sure you are with people who you trust and will look after you."