I was folding the laundry when I heard my husband come in through the back door. I stopped what I was doing and walked out into the kitchen hoping for a kiss and a hug and maybe even a little early afternoon sex, God knows it had been a long time since we had made love, but when I saw the frown on Bill's face I instinctively knew that something was wrong. I walked over and gave him a big hug then kissed his cheek and fondled his butt. "Hi honey, so what's the problem? Something go wrong at work today?" He looked at me funny then said.
"Problem, what are you talking about?"
"Look sweetheart, we've been married what ... ten years now and I sure as the heck know when something is bothering you ... now what gives?" He looked at me for a long time before he spoke.
"Well, its dad ... I think he's even more depressed now than when mom died and I'm absolutely positive that he's drinking too much."
Dad was Bill's father, J. Richard Knowles or Jack as everyone calls him. He and mom had retired early a few years ago and moved to the warm climate of Tucson, Arizona. Dad had worked for almost thirty years on Wall Street as a trader, trading shares of whatever the hell he traded and making a fantastic living. Oh he never made those famous seven figure bonuses that you hear so much about but he did damned well. After their move to Tucson he and mom enjoyed their retired life ... that is until about eighteen months ago when his wife Helen was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer ... she finally succumbed six months later. "Okay, what makes you think that?" I asked.
"Oh God Sharon, I called him this afternoon, and it was only eleven o'clock in the morning, Tucson time, and he was already slurring his words and I knew he had been drinking then when he started talking about mom ... well, he just lost it and started bawling. God honey I know that he needs help but I just don't know what to do?"
I hugged him again and rubbed his back. "Look honey, you're headed to Europe on Thursday for two weeks, so maybe I could fly out to Tucson and see if I can slow him down or at least figure out what's wrong and see what I can do to help. What do you think?" He looked at me with a face that clearly showed relief.
"Really, you don't mind going out and checking on dad?"
I had always liked Jack and didn't see any harm in visiting him for a couple of weeks and seeing if I could help out. "No problem, go ahead and call the airlines and get me a reservation, window seat preferred." I smiled and he smiled back.
Two days later I found myself sitting in a window seat staring out at the Arizona desert as my flight prepared to land in Tucson. Dad picked me up at the airport just after noon and after gathering my luggage we drove downtown to a Mexican restaurant where he treated me to a nice lunch that included ice-cold margaritas. I noticed as we ate and chatted that dad had three drinks to my one and I feared that Bill was right about his father's drinking. When we finally got to his house, a nice two bedroom ranch house that was nestled up next to a low slung mountain chain, he showed me into the guest bedroom, dropped my bags on the bed and then invited me to get changed into my swim suit and join him out by the pool. I was looking forward to relaxing in the sun so I took off my blouse and bra then slipped off my skirt and sat on the edge of the bed and rolled down my pantyhose and tossed them onto the nightstand. I stood up wearing just my panties and I was bent over looking through my bags looking for my bathing suit. I glanced up and was surprised to see Jack's reflection in the dresser mirror ... he was standing behind me in the hallway and peeking through the open door and watching me as I changed clothes. At first I was shocked that he would invade my privacy then I noticed the huge bulge in his pants. After thinking about it for a second I decided to say something but when I turned he was already gone. As I slipped into my bathing suit I decided I would talk to him about spying on me even though I knew it would upset him.
I was still irritated when I walked out to the pool. Jack was lying back in a lounge chair with a beer in his hand and his hard-on had seemed to disappear. He pointed to a cooler he had brought out with him. "Have a beer with me Sharon?"
I took a deep breath and decided to be nice, after all he already had too much to drink and maybe his voyeurism was due to too much alcohol as opposed to something else. "Uh, thanks Jack ... but I think the margarita I had for lunch was enough for me for right now." We lay there in the sun chatting about nothing important, not about his son and certainly not about his late wife. He rattled on about living in Tucson and several nice pubs, about the dog track and what good martini's they made and whether or not I liked red or white wine, almost everything he talked about seemed to focus on alcohol. As we chatted I could see his eyes wandering all over my body and although I was flattered I wondered what he was thinking. After an hour or two in the sun we went back into the house and Jack was already unsteady on his feet, bumping into the back door jamb and then bouncing off a counter top until he could steady himself.
I went into my bedroom and took a shower, washed my hair and then dressed casually in a pair of panties, a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. I decided to skip wearing a bra.
That evening I fixed a nice dinner using a corned beef recipe that I knew that he and Helen had liked and while we ate I finally got him to talk about his late wife and finally about his loss. I could tell that he was devastated at loosing her and instinctively knew why he was drinking so much. By the time dinner was over we had finished off a bottle of red wine ... and I had only had one glass. By nine o'clock he decided it was time to go to bed and I watched as he staggered down the hallway and into his room. A minute later I heard a crash and rushed down the hallway and stood outside the closed door and called out. "Jack? Jack, are you alright?" There was no answer so I eased open the door and there, laying on the floor with his tee shirt half over his head was dad. I moved to his side and shook him..."Jack? Jack, are you alright?" He groggily moaned and tried to stand up. "Whoa Jack, not so fast, just lie still for a second."
"I want ... want to go bed ... can you help me?" He slurred.
I took a deep breath. "Sure, no problem dad I'll help you, just hang in there." I helped him get up and walked him over to the bed and sat him down on the side of the mattress then finished pulling his tee shirt over his head. With that done I knelt down and took off his shoes and socks while he flopped backwards on the bed. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his shorts but couldn't pull them off while he was lying flat so I grabbed his wrists and tried to get him up. Unsuccessful and frustrated, I yelled, "Come on Jack put your arms around my neck and hold on and I'll get you into the bed." He wrapped his arms around my neck, his head resting on my shoulder and I pulled and he stood up. Because he was taller and weighed more that I did he staggered forward pushing me backwards into a wall and my breasts were flattened into his chest and we both did a drunken dance until I finally got him under control. As we staggered around I regretted the fact that I hadn't worn a bra as my nipples pushed into his chest and I was sure that even as drunk as he was he could feel them. His pants had also slipped down his legs and he kicked them off and was leaning against me in just his boxer shorts with his semi-hard erection poking out of his fly. God, I thought as I looked at him, what caused that? I finally got him to lie down on the bed and I pulled his feet up and tucked them under the covers then pulled up his sheet and blanket. I sat on the edge of the bed for a second and for some reason I couldn't get the image of his cock out of my mind. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and I eased the covers down and looked at him. His legs were about a foot apart; his cock had already slipped back inside his shorts so I took a deep breath and gently reached inside and pulled him out. I looked up to make sure he was still passed out and when I looked back down I desperately wanted to taste him but at the last minute I chickened out and pulled up the covers and left the room. Safely inside my bedroom I took several deep breaths until I was finally relaxed then I picked up my cell phone and called home. Bill answered on the third ring. "Hi honey."
"Hi babe. Look, I think this whole thing is worse that you thought, I just put dad to bed and he was so drunk that he fell on the floor before he could even get undressed."
"Oh Jesus Sharon, what are we going to do?"
"Well you're going on your trip and I'm going to fix this mess even if it means getting dad into a rehab program."
"God honey I don't know how to thank you ... I love you sweetie ... you're the best!"
She hung up the phone and I thought ... you love me? You're the best, yea right! If I'm the fucking best then why has hasn't he touched me in weeks? I hooked my phone into the charger and set it on the bedside stand and my thoughts turned back to Jack and his drinking and what I was going to do to help him.
.... There is more of this story ...