Marriage On The Rocks

My name is Teresa Dawson and I am an alcoholic.

My alcoholism made it easy for me to be seduced into a sleazy relationship with my husband's boss, who used me as his personal whore and all-around slut, to the point where I let him pass me around to his friends, until my husband found out about it.

We aren't divorced yet, but it's pending, and I think we've both accepted that our marriage is probably over.

I hope you will understand that I am not trying to absolve myself of my share of the blame for the trouble in our marriage. What I did was wrong, I knew it was wrong from the beginning, and I did it anyway. I would give anything to take it all back.

However, I believe with all of my heart and soul that Steve was manipulated, and I was seduced by a master con artist, George Fazekis, who deliberately set this entire episode into motion from the very first.

I was not the first woman George duped in the manner that I was, and Steve was not the first man he manipulated for his own selfish ends.

At this point, I guess I should first tell you about myself and my husband. I'm now 38-years-old, 5-foot-6, and I still weigh 125 pounds. I have dark hair and I wear it very short. We have two children, a daughter aged 14 and a 12-year-old son.

Steve is 39. He is 5-foot-10, weighs 195 pounds, with blond hair that is thinning on top. He is currently employed with a family-owned company based in this city, with offices and branches scattered across the country.

He was hired from another company in another state almost seven years ago, and was promoted to executive vice president for sales under George three and a half years ago, which is where this story really begins.

Where do I start? I guess, at the beginning. I met Steve in high school, when I was a sophomore and he was a junior. We had a world history class together, and he was the smartest person in the class. It wasn't quite love at first sight, but it was pretty close. I was immediately attracted to him and him to me.

Steve is definitely a case of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts. He's nice-looking, but not movie-star gorgeous; fairly well-built, but not a fitness freak, and he certainly wasn't a jock; smart, but not necessarily a genius; open, but not particularly gregarious.

I think his biggest attribute has always been his ability to mix and get along with anyone, in any group. In high school, Steve was friendly with every social class in our school, the jocks, the nerds, the brainiacs, the dopers, blacks, whites, and Hispanics. He just has a way of making people like him, and that's carried over into his career.

Our first date was the homecoming dance my sophomore year, and when he kissed me at the doorstep of my house that night, I think that was when I realized I was falling in love with him.

Steve and I went steady all through high school, and right before he went off to college, a week before the start of my senior year of high school, we finally went all the way.

We'd been working up to it for a long time, making out heavily and feeling each other up, and stopping before we went too far. I was pretty religious at the time, and I wasn't sure I wanted to lose my virginity, but finally, one night we were alone at his house making out and we just didn't stop.

Of course, we both felt guilty as hell afterward, and I sat on pins and needles for the next few days, waiting on my period, which thankfully arrived on schedule. However, later on, I quietly got on the pill, and when Steve came home for weekends, or for holidays, we did it every chance we could.

We loved each other, and didn't want to wait. And I quickly grew to enjoy sex with Steve. I found that I had a well-buried carnal streak that took awhile to get to, but once it came to the surface, I could really do some damage in bed. That's an area I'll explore a little bit later, because it has a lot to do with what happened to me with George and his friends.

When I graduated from high school, I went straight to the same university as Steve, and after my first year, we decided to get married. My folks urged me to wait, but we were hell-bent on being together.

It wasn't that they didn't like Steve; to the contrary, they've always loved him. It's just that they were concerned that I really hadn't broadened my scope, so to speak, and looking back on it, I think they were right.

I've thought about this, and I firmly believe that the seeds for what has happened to our marriage were sown very early in our relationship, and let me stress that they weren't anyone's fault. It was just the way things happened.

Steve was the only boy I ever dated, and, until George got to me, Steve was the only man I'd ever had sex with. I had some offers for dates from other guys my senior year, while Steve was off at college, but I turned them down.

Maybe if I had seen what some other guys were like, I wouldn't have had that tiny kernel of curiosity buried deep in my psyche. Maybe.

I think another thing was the fact that I always had a vague inferiority complex, especially where Steve was concerned. Steve was always so successful, made friends so easily, and did so well in school, that I felt like I could never quite measure up to him.

Let me stress that he never did anything overt to make me feel that way. He always treated me like a princess. But I was a little shy, and school work came hard for me, so much so that when we got married, I quit college and got a job at a department store to help get him through school.

Until Steve accepted his promotion to his position as George's top assistant, our sex life was quite good. We'd make love several times a week, sometimes just fooling around the house, other times after going out together, which we did quite a bit.

Although we were pretty active sexually, we weren't terribly adventurous, in that there were several things I wouldn't do for Steve. Looking back on it, that's one thing I truly regret about what happened, the fact that I denied my husband pleasures that I subsequently gave away to others, such as oral and anal sex. I just wouldn't do those things, because I thought they were "dirty." Pretty funny, huh?

I truly believe that George set me up from the first day Steve started in his position. As executive VP, Steve reported directly to George, basically serving as his right-hand man, and George quickly set about driving a wedge between Steve and me.

Steve became George's troubleshooter and chief negotiator for new contracts. In this capacity, he traveled all over the country, even overseas, to the company's various plants, and to the company's vendors and other material suppliers. When he wasn't traveling, Steve was working long hours and was bringing a lot of his work home.

As a consequence, our sex life dwindled to a rarity. Either Steve was out of town, or at work, or too exhausted to do anything when he came home. Our social life together declined as well. It seemed like the only time we went out was to a work-related function, either a business dinner or employees' party of some sort.

Again, I believe this was all done deliberately, so that George could have a freer chance to seduce me. By getting Steve physically out of the picture and piling on the work, George made sure that Steve didn't have the time or the energy for me, and thus I became socially and sexually frustrated.

One result, too, was that I started drinking a lot heavier than I had before, and that truly was what finally lit the fuse on my downfall. I've never been able to handle liquor, and when I get drunk, I get horny and flirty.

Let me tell you, George would have been hard enough to hold off for someone who was sober. When he came onto me when I was drunk – I mean really came onto me – I didn't stand a chance.

I guess, at this point I should tell you about George Fazekis. Even before Steve went to work for him, I had secretly admired George as first-rate eye candy.

George is easily 6-foot-4, maybe 6-5, and lean. He was a basketball star in college and he's maintained an incredible physique. He's got dark, wildly handsome looks in fitting with his Greek heritage, and a full head of curly, salt-and-pepper hair.

Not only is George easy on the eyes, but he also has a very forceful personality, a terrific animal magnetism and charm oozing out of every pore. He's every woman's walking wet dream, until you get to know him and you see the real person behind his mask of charisma. Then you see the selfish user, the amoral con man and the soulless pervert that I came to know and despise.

Really, George started working on me even before he promoted Steve. At parties and other company functions, he'd be sure to flatter me, and made sure I always had a fresh drink. I believe he watched me when I drank, and knew that if he could get me alone when I'd had too many that I'd be putty in his hands.

About two years ago, he started suggesting that I join the health club near the company's headquarters. Memberships were free for company personnel and their families, and I began to go. At first it was only about once a week, but I soon discovered that I liked working out.

Steve always said I really didn't need to lose weight or tone up my body, and he was right. As you can see, I'm pretty trim, and in very good health. But I liked the physical exercise and it gave me something to do on days when I didn't work for my friend Joyce at her flower shop, which I did on a part-time basis for a long time after we moved here.

A month or so after I started going to the gym on a pretty regular basis, I ran into George, working out with the weights, and I mean he was pumping serious iron. I was impressed. I was also impressed with the bulge in his tight shorts.

Remember, at that time I'd never seen another man's cock besides Steve's, and I'd always thought he was pretty big. I guess he is, compared to most men, probably carrying 7-7 1/2 inches of pretty thick meat.

George isn't most men, however, and even in the soft state it would usually be in when he worked out, I could tell he was massive. And I had a natural curiosity about it.

But I swear I never actively set out to have sex with George. It took a particular set of events for it to happen, events that I'm convinced George set into motion.

Steve had been George's executive vice-president for right at two years, and I was getting more and more frustrated as I got less and less of my husband. Steve was always apologetic about having to make these trips and stay late at the office and bring home work, but that quickly got old. I needed a husband and our kids needed a father, and we weren't getting him.

What I was getting was some serious attention from my husband's boss, and I guess I was blinded by his charm, his flattery, his magnetism, because I really didn't think anything was out of the ordinary.

And neither did anyone else. George was very subtle and very careful not to be too overt about his flirting, but he was definitely flirting with me. We'd chat at the gym, and occasionally we'd have lunch together at a quiet little cafe down the street from the gym.

Like I said, he was charming, and he encouraged me to have a few drinks to unwind. And I soon began to unburden myself on him, telling him of my frustrations, and hoping he could help.

One thing George suggested was that we take a night and have a date, a weekend night when there was less of a chance that Steve would be called to work. He was so disingenuous when he said it, I never realized until it was too late that that was precisely what he had planned.

So, on a Saturday night, Steve and I made plans to go out to dinner, and then go home and make love for the first time in about a month. But first we had a small social function at George's to attend, a cocktail party with a few of the other vice-presidents and their wives.

We'd been there about an hour, I'd had three gin and tonics and we were about ready to go, when the phone rang.

George took the call in his study, then came out with a long look on his face, walked right up to Steve, whispered in his ear and they both walked back into the study. They were in there for a long time, maybe 15 minutes, then they came out and Steve had a sour look on his face, and George had an apologetic look on his, a look that I soon learned was faked.

"I'm sorry, honey, there's been an accident at the plant in Pittsburgh," Steve said glumly. "I have to fly out right away. George is sending me with his driver to the house to grab my case and pack a quick overnight bag, then we're going straight to the airport. I'm sorry, honey, I really am, but George says I have to go to coordinate the cleanup."

"Well, shit," I said, not bothering to hide my displeasure. "Steve, when does this stop? When do I get some of you? We had plans, damn it, and now..."

And I burst into tears at that point. I'd had another drink, and I was starting to feel the effects of the gin I'd consumed. I was so frustrated, so disappointed and so ... horny. Steve held me and let me cry.

"Look, George said you could stay for awhile, and socialize, if you'd like," Steve said, not knowing he was unwittingly giving me a license to cheat. "No need for your night to be completely ruined. Stay for awhile, and have a good time."

Then we kissed and off he went. By the time he came home, I would be an entirely different person.

After Steve left, I started getting seriously drunk, something I'd become real good at. When I said earlier that I couldn't handle liquor, what I meant was I couldn't control my actions when I was drunk. As far as drinking itself goes, I could hang in there with the best of them.

After a couple of hours, everyone there was starting to get pretty lit, and I knew I should leave pretty soon, before I got completely incapacitated and did something I'd regret.

But just then George suggested that we all take a dip in his Jacuzzi, which is located in a cabana off behind the patio. I protested that I didn't have a suit, but George said not to worry, they always kept spares around for guests to use. He smiled benignly as he handed me a one-piece suit of a very light material.

When I took my clothes off in the dressing room along with some of the other women, I felt a little flutter in my stomach like I had an inkling of what was going to happen.

Some of the other wives were talking about their husbands and what they planned to do when they got home, and it depressed me – and also turned me on. I'd had my heart, and my body, set on getting some loving that night, I was more than a little upset that Steve had left me in the lurch like that, and I was still needy.

The suit George had given me didn't help. Yes, it was a one-piece, but it was about as sexy a one-piece as you'll find. It was made of a light, gauzy material that accented all of my curves, and it was cut high on my hips and low on my breasts, leaving a significant portion of my butt and my tits exposed. And I'm a healthy 36-23-36, with C cups, so I had some flesh showing.

When I stepped out of the dressing room, George and a few of the other men whistled in appreciation. I was a little embarrassed, but also thrilled. It had been a long time since Steve had reacted to me that way.

George had thoughtfully stocked the little bar at the cabana, so that we didn't have to go far to replenish our drinks, which continued to flow freely.

And when George stepped out of the hot tub to fix me another drink, it was the ladies' turn to be impressed, for he had on a tight pair of Speedos that did very little to hide his massive cock, and left a good portion of his taut butt exposed. Even the men got in the act.

"Man, if I was queer, I'd be all over that," I heard one man say, to the roar of the rest of the group.

I laughed, too, but my insides were churning. George's cock had me mesmerized, and my pussy was getting hot at the thought of what it could do to me. Every time I did, I kept trying to remind myself that I was a happily married woman, but the longer I stayed and the more I drank, the more I just didn't care.

As I relaxed, George and I engaged in an animated conversation, and sometimes I just lay back in the tub and closed my eyes, wallowing in self-pity.

Eventually, the other couples drifted off to home, leaving George and I alone in cabana.

After seeing the last of his other guests off, George came back in and sat down next to me on the edge of the tub. I was drunk enough to be slurring my words, but not so drunk that I wasn't completely aware that George was making a pass at me.

"You know, I've always thought you were very sexy," George said in a seductive tone of voice.

"Oh, I'll bet you tell all of your girlfriends that," I said, laughing nervously. I said it flippantly, not realizing that he did, in fact, have other girlfriends.

"No, really, Steve must be a lucky man to have a wife as lovely as you," he said.

"Yeah, well it would be nice if he'd pay some attention to me once in a while," I said, a trifle bitterly, before draining my glass.

"Man shouldn't neglect his most prized possession," he whispered, and that's when I noticed George had put his arm around me and was lightly stroking my bare arm.

"George, please, I'm married," I said unconvincingly as I tried to remove his arm. "And so are you."

"I've never let that stand in the way of doing something I like," he said softly, as his arm reached back around my side and his fingers caressed the exposed side of my right breast. "And I'd like very much to make love with you. Let me take away all of your frustrations."

"George, I can't," I said, weakly. "What about Steve?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him, will it?" George said. "You know you want to."

I was fighting a losing battle, because I could feel my pussy getting wet from the tactile sensations his hands were causing. He had turned toward me and his left hand was lightly tracing circles up my thigh, making me shiver with delight.

When he brought his lips to mine and kissed me, I was all but in the bag. He kissed me lightly at first, then with a little more force, as his tongue entered my mouth, which opened wider and wider the longer we kissed.

And as we kissed, I felt George's fingers slide inside the crotch of my suit and slip into my dripping wet cunt, while the fingers of his other hand slipped inside the top of my suit and begin to lightly stroke my nipple.

When we finally came up for air, I happened to glance down and saw a truly awesome sight. George's cock looked like some kind of massive snake under his trunks, and I think I gasped when I saw it.

"See what you've done to me?" he whispered. "You've made it this way. Go on; touch it. I know how all of those times at the gym, you've been dying to see it, to feel it. Well, here's your chance."

Hesitantly, I reached over and placed my hand over its long, fat length. It pulsed with life and I slowly ran my hand over his iron hardness, still covered – barely – by the shiny material of his suit, and we kissed again, harder and with more urgency.

At that moment, all thoughts of husband and family were washed away by my drunken lust. I had just about surrendered.

When we broke again, I didn't hesitate. I flipped his suit down, and out sprang the biggest cock you can imagine. It was easily 10 inches and fat, a truly awesome piece of manhood.

I felt a trickle of intense arousal – and not a little bit of fear – at the thought that he intended to put that thing in my pussy. I stroked him up and down and stared at the little ball of pre-cum that oozed out the tip. I swirled the clear fluid all over the head as we met for yet another hot, horny kiss.

Our hands were working briskly on each other's body, me stroking his magnificent cock and him fingering my pussy and stroking my tit.