Now this tale is in a rather different vain. I'm still smarting from the effects of this misdemeanor 2 weeks on. Little humour to be drawn from this sorry episode, but nevertheless here goes. But first a little background.....
Back in 2005 and during the height of the property boom I had a lucrative career as an independent mortgage adviser. Basically I couldn't write the business quick enough and reaped the rewards .. Brand new 6 bedroomed home, decent car, holidays, class A most weekends with a few of the Leeds lads on here.....all the trappings you could wish for. Hey, even the vulture I live with (aka Mrs Beer Dog) was even sucking my balls at the time.
The credit crunch and subsequent collapse of the property market plunged the firm I worked for into crisis and for the past 2/3 years I've continued to mortgage advise, but in a bank on substantially lower income. Obviously I still have the big dirty mortgage of my own to contend with. Yes, I'm fucking broke .. Such is life, I'll get by. Love my home and don't want to lose it which is where my idea of a lodger came in.
I converted the whole of the 3rd floor into a private living space and placed an ad on an internet site. It wasn't long before a bird from Barnsley, Deborah (42) and her Daughter (17) turned up one evening for a look around. To be honest who wants a couple of strangers under your roof, but this was a solution driven by necessity. They loved the place instantly, we got a good vibe about them and so they moved in. ?475 per month. Thankyou very much. I can feed the kids again ...
Debs had escaped Barnsley after a broken marriage, relocated her place of work to Leeds and needed to be closer to the city and away from the mess back home. Really nice girl, bit of a vunerable sort and I felt a sense of responsibility to helping them both through a difficult period of their lives. You know where this is going don't you lads ? I woudn't be spouting all this drivel for any other purpose, but I can assure you my intentions from the outset were entirely honourable.....But she did have a cracking arse and tits.
The Mrs found it more difficult than me to get along with the pair of them and early in an evening would lock herself away in her room. The Daughter meanwhile did as young kids do.....sit in her room all night on the laptop and iPod. That pretty much left me and Debs sat up most nights supping red wine and getting wankered.
Fuck me could this bird sup. She didn't buy wine by the bottle, she bought boxes and to back that up she had a stash of spirits in the cupboard too. I'd met my match ...
Out of a bit of respect I won't be sticking her mug on here on this occasion. So there grew a certain inevitability about the situation. We bonded really quickly and it wasn't long before we were supping into the early hours bemoaning our relationships and sharing private conversations. I was drinking so much red wine I was going to work the next morning with black fucking lips. Mrs Dog had bemoaned a couple of times I was drinking far too much and spending too much time with Debs, but it continued.....
One night Debs starts getting weepy again. The working man had no choice but to provide a little comfort. I joined her on the sofa, slung an arm round her and muttered some shit about how everything was going to be alright. But in truth the sexual tension that had been building between us all week had passed the point of no return. She leaned into me and we started kissing.....
How fucking stupid was this. Like I've said before I was born without any restraint mechanism when it comes to women and place myself in all manner of trouble that could cost me everything. I've strobed her Cousins, one of her best mates, neighbours.....The Love Dog has no boundaries. So here I am getting stuck into the lodger, Wife upstairs out of it and Deb's Daughter 2 floors up.
Nothing much happened that night. We'd kissed for an hour or so, she'd pulled my cock out at one point for a feel and it was actually I, yes I.....Captain Turbo Tongue.....that halted proceedings and retired to his room before full mashings developed.
Breakfast was awkward. Knowing glances across the lounge. Exchanging pleasantaries whilst trying really hard to put on a "everything's normal around here " face on ...
So it was Saturday morning. Mrs BD set out for work for the day, I was working whilst 1pm and Deb's Daughter was on her way back to Barnsley for the weekend. I'm still half cut from the night before, battle through 4 hours of work and return home. It's just me and Debs......Oh dear.
I'm genuine when I say I didn't want this to get out of hand. It would end in disaster. But when I hear Deb's calling me up to her room after around 10 minutes I make my way upstairs like a little puppy sniffing for it's bone. I knew what the fucker wanted and I was like a tramp on chips.
She's laid on the bed, still in PJs. Face done up and the sultry look in her eyes required no conversation from either of us. I got onto the bed and in seconds we were into one another. Unbridled passion. Urgently pulling clothes off and the conclusion was her laid there breathless covered in my Love Ketchup. No you can't have next months rent free my dear, now let me sniff your box again . A jolly nice poke she was. Porn star groans, neat little snatch, Hubba Hubba.....
A few nights later we were up again. Red wine, a bottle of vodka, a few tunes on and having a laugh and a joke. We'd actually made a pact that we had to curb the shenanigans. The consequences were too dear for either of us. The vodka had now really kicked in and I hit that passing out point. Unfortunately Debs had suffered a similar fate and we'd fallen asleep practically on top of one another.
Around 2am I am unceremoniously awoken with a full pint of water sloshed in my face. Mrs Dog is looming over the pair of us, eyes bulging, screaming obscenities. Debs gets a crack in the face and so the showdown begins , Millwall/Hammers, Villa/Blues, name your rivalry, it weren't touching this. I'm stuck in the middle of 2 banshees scrapping. Thanks to the nosey cunt neighbours next door the OB arrive a while later and the Mrs says I've clobbered her the lying cunt. That's me with an arm up my back, shoved in a van and off to Bridewell station for an evening. Nice en suite facilities though and an IKEA minimalist feel to the cell....
Visited in the morning by some Norwegian freak talking to me about Jesus through the bars. "If Jesus loved me he'd get me out of this fucking cell !" Came my reply. Then a tasty bint popped by to discuss the effects of alcohol. I'm released mid-morning, head back home and the daft cunt is still ranting and raving Debs had moved out in the early hours having got her Dad to pick her up and he arrives later in the afternoon to collect all her belongings. Rather awkward and from the look in his eyes he knew I'd been strobing his Daughter.....
So I'd actually been caught doing very little at all. Mrs BD has since simmered unaware of course I'd been chucking my bolt all over her a few days before. Skint again now, I guess pimping the Wife out is the next logical step. Not the most entertaining of tales I'm sure you'll agree. But there lies the fucked up world of a sex addict.
Tales from the Pipside, thanks for listening.
