Making the best of it.

Making the best of it.
Sep 13, 2008 11:09 am
Shortly after I began my own business as a Toy distributor, I started working out, trying to lose weight, gain control of the depression that gripped me. And he did have sex with me, once that year. I've always thought of myself as an inwardly optimistic and trusting person, though outwardly paranoid and a bit of a fatalist. I am a Libra, so it's only natural that I would have to balance between two opposing sides. Making the decision to do anything has always been difficult, I should have remembered that when I got married, eh? But, the need to please was greater. The desire to make someone happy, overcame me. ANyhow, I digress. Anyhow, I started going to Weight Watchers, going to the gym, and feeling good about myself. Somewhere in my mind, I think I was preparing to leave him, though consciously, I was trying to be more appealing to him, while making myself feel better. The Meteor and I went out one night, to celebrate the birthday of one of his co-workers. As usual, I had to be the Designated Driver, he didn't want me to drink, I believe because he feared I might expose him as a wife beater, who didn't like to fuck. Anyhow, I got dressed, as sexy as I wanted, and went out to have a good time. That night, I got accused of being a hooker by an officer of the local PD, beer spilled on me and my purse, caught up in a fight between two guys who were fighting because of the spilled beer, and almost in a fist fight with the girlfriend of one of the guys who spilled beer on me. Note: I am not one to engage in fisticuffs, but she called me a fat cunt, and was scrapping at me from across the table, and I was going to defend myself. It was a banner night!The Meteor, in perfect Meteor fashion, did nothing to defend me, instead HIS friends, and perfect strangers defended both me and my honor.The only thing he did manage to do that night, was get sufficiently drunk. Oh, and want to fuck me. When we got home, he was all over me. Like how he probably was with the women he cheated on me with. He was rough, just the way I like it. He kissed me hard, on the mouth. He ate my pussy. He fingered my cunt and my ass. He asked me to bring out my toys. I sucked his huge cock while he went to work on me. But, I couldn't cum. I tried to enjoy it, I tried. But, in the back of mind I couldn't help but think, this will never happen again. He was so rough, it had been so long, I forgot that though his cock was huge, he really didn't know how to work it. He started slamming his flesh sword into me as though he was hoping to beat me up from the inside. He grabbed one of my toys and shoved it up my ass, with no lube. He wasn't trying to love me, he wasn't trying to fuck me, he was trying to hurt me. He was trying to inflict damage. He was violent, and not in an agreed upon, trusting, don't forget the 'safe word' sorta way.For the first time in years, I thought of the BMOC, the original abuser, I thought of him raping me in my bedroom at 14, holding me by the throat, telling me if I made a noise he would snap my neck. Telling me when he was finished "Go clean yourself up, Bitch" and shoving me off of my bed. And then, the Meteor finished. He came inside me. Then he shoved me off of our bed and said, "Go clean yourself up....." I could hear him mutter "whore" as I went into the bathroom and began to cry. Oh, I sobbed, what was I to do. I was so overwhelmed with feelings dragged up from the deep recesses of my mind, that I could barely move. I just listened to the water run, and pound against my skin, washing him off of me. I wanted so badly for the Meteor to want me. I wanted him to make love to me, get dirty with me, get rough sexually with me. But not like that. Not when he was drunk, not if he was really trying to hurt me. Which it became obvious that he was trying to hurt me. HE wanted me to have such a terrible memory of sex with him that I would never ask for it again. When I finally came back to bed, he said "I thought that a slut like you would like it like that. I mean I see how people look at you, and flirt with you." I replied by saying " I can hardly be considered a slut, when that is almost my only sexual experience since we were married." He slapped my face. Then told me to get out of HIS bed or he will come after me. I went downstairs, and stayed up all night. I was completely alone. About a week later, my dog started acting funny around me, I didn't think anything of it. I went about my business, and never spoke of that night. I was still attending the gym and Weight Watchers, and trying to lose and tone. After a few days, I felt sick all the time. Crampy, nauseous, tired, you name it. Out of curiosity, I took an at home pregnancy test. Now I had never been pregnant in my life. My periods are extremely irregular, always have been, so I don't know what it's like when women can tell they are ovulating, or when, down to the second they are going to get their periods. The test came back positive. It wasn't glaring. It was faint. But, it was definitely positive. Oh my GOD! I'm pregnant. I was happy about it. I never wanted to be anything more than the perfect wife and mother, think June Cleaver, complete with house dress, apron, and pumps. I told him that I believed I was pregnant. Which explained why my dog was acting weird. He was ecstatic, he was happy, about something that extended beyond himself. I made an appointment right away to go to the doctor and solidify the news. WOW... thats all it took for him to be nice to me, carry his child. It didn't last. I found out on a Monday. My appointment with the doctor was for the following Monday. By Thursday I was feeling some intense cramping. Friday spotting. Saturday, I was in the Emergency Room waiting area in the fetal position thinking my insides were going to explode or fall out. Saturday, I woke up, it was a normal day. I had breakfast, did some housework and laundry, and late afternoon I went to the gym with my friend. I just wanted a gentle walk on the gym, and she wanted company while she worked out. I was walking at a really slow pace and we were joking about that when the serious cramping started. She looked at me and asked if I was okay. I said I didn't know. She told me to call the Meteor because he needed to meet us at the ER. I called him, he told me to tell him when I needed to be picked up, after all he was playing a game, and didn't want to have to stop just so he could sit around the ER all night. It was determined, after hours of waiting, and being in pain and gushing blood, that I shouldn't have even known I was pregnant, it was so early, and that in any case I wasn't pregnant any more so I should just forget about it, pretend it never happened. I went to my scheduled appointment anyway, because I needed answers. I needed to know why this happened. What was wrong with me. The Nurse Practitioner explained that sometimes, an egg is fertilized, but cannot find a suitable place to plant itself on the walls of the uterus. Either the lining is too thick, or there is some other reason, but no matter what it would not have been a viable pregnancy. Because I hadn't had my period, it was the lining issue. He actually came with me to that appointment, and he mentioned to the doctor that he wanted to try again. The doctor ordered fertility testing immediately. Apparently it is easier to rule out problems with the male first, so, he jerked off into a cup, and I brought it to the lab. 92% viable after seven days in a lab. He threw it in my face, every time after that, that I was the problem. I was the reason we didn't have children. I was a failure as a women.