Drunk Wife Novels & Stories

I'd learned that having a well-lubricated wife often led to other kinds of lubrication later. This time, though, it was clear when Ariana walked into the house that I wasn't going to be getting laid. Her soft, pretty face was twisted into a scowl. She made a loud sigh, brushed her long, brown hair over her shoulder, then brushed past me. "Something happened with Scarlett?" I asked. Instead of answering, my wife marched straight to the kitchen. She reached up to the cabinets, pulled out a bottle of cheap vodka, and poured herself a glass, straight. Then she sat down at the table and took a large gulp. Apparently, brunch hadn't been boozy enough.

I remembered every detail of that night. A sudden acute myocarditis had struck me. The situation was critical, so the doctors scheduled an emergency heart surgery. As I signed the pre-op forms, my hand trembled so badly I could barely write. “Where’s my wife?” I asked. The nurse’s face was full of sympathy. “Mr. Drake, Mrs. Drake had urgent company matters. She’ll be back soon.” Even as the anesthesia began to take hold on the operating table, I thought—when she arrived, I would give her a piece of my mind.

Karan put the heater on though his room was warm having thick walls but seeing her it seemed necessary. Doctor came in a few times and checked her, and after sensing her nerves and seeing her eyes, he said. "Mr. Kundra, your wife is just unconscious because she consumed more alcohol than she can handle, but it also seems she was tensed for something." Karan nodded and Maria went to leave the doctor while he looked at her and then at Zenya. He asked Zenya if something happened in his absence and she said. "No, we were good at making fun of you and laughed a lot. After that I left as she wanted to relax for sometime", wiping her tears she said and left after that.

she frowns. "Ah! But I don't see any difference" She grimaces, rolling her heavy eyes and her reactions are telling me, she's near to passing out. I was on call and I didn't notice how many shots she had after I left. "Husbands are busy all the time. Boyfriends are not. Look at you today" The drunk wife is cuter than the annoying wife. I fucking love it. She laughs in a drowsy tone, leaning down to my chest.

I went outside to look for something whiskey to drink in the kitchen, and I heard a woman startled when she saw me, “Oh….you,” She appeared to be a little tipsy and like she had been drinking booze. I couldn't fathom the motivation behind Abby's behavior. It was the first time I'd seen my wife drinking by herself, and I could tell she was trying to become drunk. I've never seen her act like this before.

She is so understanding and simple, yes, it's true that she could be potential wife but who wants simplicity in life when they could have a tension and spice like Raina Aaron. I smiled and raised my glass in front of Divya "You want one," I ask, my voice slurred. "Oh God, you are drunk". She says and took the glass from my hold and put it on the counter with a thud. "Let's go". She says in a hard tone. "But the party just started" I whined. I don't wanna go home, my wife will get upset more if I go in front of her. "Let's go to our place," I say and got up from the chair.

Panicking, I thought, Is he trying to make love to me? Oh no. I had learned a thing or two about drunk men being more sexually aggressive. I was still at a high-risk stage of my pregnancy too. He steadied himself and pointed at himself, saying, “Don’t you see it? I’m drunk. Dead drunk.” “I see it. So what do you think?” Holding my neck with one hand, he drew me into his arms. As he lowered his head, his alcohol-flavored breath brushed my face. “Helping me take a bath, changing my clothes, and serving me to sleep—aren’t those the responsibilities of a wife?”

“How many drinks have I had?” “That is your fifth brandy,” she answered nonchalantly. “Damn,” he slurred. “I didn’t mean to get drunk.” “Well, you’ve been on an emotional roller coaster for two months,” she said with empathy. “So what are you going to do?” “I’m going to get . . . my wife back,” he slurred and blinked. “But, I need to . . . sleep this off first.” “Good idea,” she agreed with a small smile.

Another man steps in front of him, glaring. Noah turns to the bartender. “She is my wife and she is drunk. I need to take her home, please.” The bartender nods and turns to the rest. “He’s her husband, let him take her home. The mash needs ro rest, okay guys?”