Eva watched Roxy's plump ass wag as she raced for the door. Her fingers came to her nose and she sniffed. Almost unconsciously, she slipped the fingers into her mouth, sucking the pungent juice. She was still very excited and picked up her glass and drained it.
When John stepped from the bedroom in white slacks and blue blazer, Eva was sitting in a chair, another drink in hand. Roxy stood behind the chair, gently massaging Eva's shoulders.
"You two go and eat. I'll dress and meet you in the dining room." Roxy said.
By the time Roxy joined them, they had finished lunch and were in the bar. John saw her enter and ordered three fresh drinks. The lunch had sobered Eva, but John ordered every time she emptied her glass and she built up a head of steam fast. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the bar, and John was a little high himself.
"My God, she holds a lot of booze." Roxy whispered.
"We'd better get her upstairs. She's really loaded." John said. He had a little trouble getting to his feet.
"You better slow down, John." Roxy said.
Eva was really plastered and they had to all but carry her. Her eyes were glazed and half closed, and she mumbled incoherently. John was puffing breathlessly when they finally tumbled her into a large chair.
"Kiss me, John." Roxy cried, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Not here, not in front of Eva."
"She's out of it, honey. She'll never know. I've wanted you all afternoon."
They kissed hard, their tongues mingling wetly. John felt woozy. He felt Roxy's hand at his fly. His cock slid from his pants into her hand.
"John, I want you to fuck me right here in front of Eva." Roxy cried.
"No, no, not in front of Eva." John gasped.
"Yes, yes, in front of Eva!" Roxy pushed him backwards and he went over onto the floor. She was on top of him instantly, a leg on each side of his hips. She lifted her skirt and pulled the crotch of her panties to the side. John moaned helplessly as she pushed his cock into her cunt.
Roxy knew she would come this time. She always came quick when she was on top. She rammed herself onto his cock, wondering why the more she got, the more she wanted. It was a quick come and not too satisfying. She knew she would need more.
She left John lying on his back, his hard cock waving in the air, and went on hands and knees to where Eva was slouched. "Did you see it, Eva? Did you see John's prick in my cunt?"
Eva's eyes popped open. "Saw't," she snorted. Her eyes closed again.
"Did it make you jealous?" Roxy asked.
Eva's eyes remained closed. "Need drinkee."
"I'll get you one." Roxy said, getting to her feet.
She brought a glass of whiskey and pressed it into Eva's limp hand, then she knelt again and slowly peeled Eva's slacks down her legs. She pushed Eva's legs apart and lowered her head to her crotch.
"Ooooh." Eva moaned as Roxy's tongue glided into her cunt, and dropped the glass of whiskey. She hunched against the tongue fucking her cunt, mumbled a string of obscenities, and had an intense orgasm. She passed out cold immediately.
"You have such a sweet pussy." Roxy cooed, lifting from the dripping slit.
John sat dumfounded, his cock in his hand still hard. "You – you…" he stammered.
"I kissed your wife's cunt and made her feel good. Now put your prick away and come on. We'd better get some food down you. I have big plans for you tonight."
John followed her meekly, glancing guiltily at his young wife sprawled half-naked in the chair.
They went to the dining room and ate a big dinner. When they returned, Eva was exactly as they had left her. John and Roxy stripped and went into the bedroom and fucked wildly. She got him up one more time by sucking his cock and they fucked again.
When John awakened the next day, Roxy was gone. He went into the next room and found Eva still slouched awkwardly in the chair. Waking her gently, he helped her to her feet. He gave her a hot bath and had a light breakfast sent up. He sat on the edge of her bed while she ate sparingly. The arrows of guilt sank deep. He was an honorable man; how could he have done such a thing?
Eva wallowed in his attention. She couldn't be mad at him because she really couldn't remember what happened. All she knew for sure was that she had gotten terribly drunk and was paying dearly for the luxury.
By evening, she felt much better and John told her that they were leaving. They would go back to the city in the morning and then fly to Paris or some such exotic place for the remainder of their honeymoon. He didn't mention that Roxy had already gone back to the city.
"I heard about a quaint little tavern not far from here, less than a mile," he said. "We can eat dinner here and then go and have a drink, just one, mind you, and dance."
"Oh, John, it sounds wonderful."
"It's close, so we can walk and on the way back hold hands and neck and make love… anything that comes to mind."
After dinner, they trudged hand in hand down the dusty road. It was a clear, moonlit night and the air was cool and refreshing. The tavern had a small dance floor and a live three-piece-band. They had their drink and danced, snuggling close and necking openly on the postage-stamp floor. They were the only couple.
John's guilt had not gone away and he drank heavier than usual in an attempt to drown his conscience. Eva drank very sparingly, nursing each drink at least an hour.
As he got drunker, John grew horny and took many liberties with his young wife. Eva didn't try to stop him, even though they were the only ones there and on display for all the employees. He had never been so ardent, even alone. He put both arms around her waist and gripped the cheeks of her ass on the dance floor, and sat close to her at their table, running his hands up under her skirt. She went to the women's room and removed her bra and let him kiss her nipples through her blouse. She got very hot and wanted to go, but John continued drinking.
By midnight, he was out of it. His eyes grew glassy and he slumped forward and passed out with his head in his arms. Eva wanted to cry. She went to the bartender for help. Bartenders are always sympathetic and helpful.
"My husband has passed out," she said.
"That's tough, lady," the bartender said.
"But we walked over here from the hotel. How will I get him back?"
"You could drag the bastard by his feet. He ain't too big." He sucked on his soggy cigar and continued wiping glasses. "Or better yet, you can let him sleep it off where he's at and come in the back room with me."
"That was uncalled for, Harry," the piano player, who had just walked over, said. "The lady has a problem. You don't need to get nasty." He was a big man of about forty, good-looking except for his nose, which was bent to one side like a fighter that had taken one punch too many. Actually, he was a high school English teacher. He came up here every summer to earn extra money.
In deference to the English teacher's size, the bartender scowled and moved sullenly down the bar.
"I heard your problem and perhaps I can be of assistance. I have a car and I'll be glad to help you get your husband back to the hotel. It's a dead night anyway, and we'll close up early." He took one of her tiny hands in his. "Now climb up on that bar stool and have a drink. We'll play another medley and call it a night."
"But my husband…"
"He's fine where he's at." The big piano player took her by the waist and lifted her easily onto the stool. "Bring the lady a drink, Harry," he called to the bartender.
The band played for another hour, and Eva had five drinks. She grew very talkative and gay, dancing with each of the band members and even finally consented to dance the last number with the bartender. The bartender held her very tight, apologized for being rude, and then cupped her left tit in one of his beefy hands. She slapped his face, but giggled when she did it, and let him kiss her and feel the other tit while the band packed up their instruments.