humiliated at my sons party - Sex Stories

humiliated at my sons party

I was glad that Sarah had agreed to go to the conference with me. We'd been married for nearly 19 years and never seemed to go anywhere alone together any more. I was also surprised that she had agreed, as she had to know that for the most part she would be bored out of her skull, so maybe she was thinking along the same lines, and I was glad because she seemed to have lost interest in sex lately. And it wasn't as if it was far away, barely a five hour drive in fact, and my company offered to pay for the hotel room, so I thought we might as well take advantage. We packed enough stuff for the overnight stay. We'd agreed to let out 18 year old son, Brent, have some friends stay over, on the condition that there were no girls. I was a little tentative when the first of them began turning up just as we were leaving, as I had only counted on one or two friends, but Sarah said we could trust him. I wasn't so convinced; I had noticed that Brent was becoming, well, not exactly rebellious towards me, but perhaps a little flippant and dismissive, especially at times like this when I tried to lay down any rules. But I reasoned that it was to be expected in a young man his age, and there was no way I was going to miss a night of randy hotel sex with my wife over this, so we got in the car and off we went, leaving the house at the mercy of the band of loud, energetic teenagers. As it turned out, I might as well have insisted on staying. A group of guys from our office headed to the hotel ...

... bar following last assembly of the day, and, being the macho (so we liked to think), overly-competitive guys that we are, we proceeded to attempt to drink each other under the table. I didn't even realise how much I'd d***k, or how late it was, until I got a very short text message from Sarah a few hours later just saying, 'Where the fuck are you?' I don't really remember much of the evening after that. I vaguely remembered throwing up on the floor of the hotel room once, maybe twice, but the rest of it was a blur. When I finally awoke in the morning, with a pounding headache, I was alone in the room with an angry note from Sarah informing me that she'd never been so embarrassed, having to call room service to clean up her 40 year old d***k husband's puke from the hotel room carpet, and that she was getting a cab home. A couple of Advil were pointedly taped to the note. I had to spend the second half of the conference with a thundering hangover, pining for the night of hot sex I'd totally blown, and desperately thinking of ways to make it up to Sarah. By the time I clambered into the car at 5.30pm, I hadn't come up with anything, resolved to the fact that I was going to have to face the music and plead for forgiveness, especially if I wanted to have sex ever again. When I pulled up outside our house a few hours later about 9.30pm, I couldn't get onto the driveway as there were already several cars parked there, which I recognized as belonging to some of my son's friends. The ...