Take Me Home

I confess that I am a terrible drunk. I become loud, belligerent, bossy, and a nympho with a filthy mouth. At this point in our marriage, my husband knows the difference between chardonnay number 2 and dirty martini number 3 and is pretty good at getting me home before I start making too much of a scene. Of course, this means that much of the abuse is aimed at him ... but so is the nympho part.
He gets so embarrassed when I start stroking his dick through his jeans in the taxi. Before he can get me out of our neighborhood I am telling him in a not-so-quiet whisper what I want to do to him, how I want to take his dick in my mouth, how I want rough sex, how he needs to find the nipple clamps from the bedroom immediately. By the time he searches for his keys, we are having sloppy makeout sessions in the hallway. Sometimes neighbors find us.
Some nights he is too tired or crabby to put up with my hipersexual attitude, so I provoke him even more, until he pins me up against the wall and gives me what I want.

What he doesn't know is that half the time, I'm not even drunk!!