What Else Could I Do

2001 was a pretty shitty year for me. It started off with my husband of 5 years leaving me. I can't say it was a complete surprise, I mean I did catch him cheating with my best friend at Christmas. I swear to god I loved him when I married him but...neither one of us had been happy for a long time. He blamed me for getting pregnant. We were just a couple of kids, I was 20 when told my new husband that we had another mouth to feed. I was on the pill, but he swears I must have missed a day. He wanted me to have an abortion...but I don't care what people say, I could not kill my baby. That's part of a woman's right to choose. I chose to keep my baby. What else could I do, to me it felt like murder.

Ron said he accepted it...but I knew. He hated how fat I got, the extra expense. I had to quit my job in the 7th month, and money was pretty tight. My dad helped out a lot. Ron hated accepting money from him. But we had to. Somehow that was my fault too. My daughter Beth was born, and for 3 years we tried to make it work. It was just too hard. The man I used to love slowly became a selfish, mean bully. He never quite hit me, but he did shove me around, especially when he drank. He would often get in my face and scream at me, tell me how dumb I was. Sometimes he'd say he was sorry later, once he even cried.

"Susan baby, I love you. I need you. Besides I'm all you got, I'm the father of your child. Just don't piss me off and we'll be ok."

What else could I do? I mean I did not like it but he had a point. Afterwards he'd want makeup sex. I don't know who came up with that phrase but it can be pretty miserable. Me and Ron never made up. We just stopped fighting. He was not sorry for the things he said or done, and I never really forgave him. I just wanted the fight to be over. If you've never had it happen to you, it must be hard to understand. I did not want his hands on me. I did not want to submit to him. I did not want to kiss him. It made me feel dirty, cheap, like a whore. He liked to undress me, to strip me naked and spread me open. It was humiliating. I think that was the whole fucking point. He'd fondle me, play with my tits, squeeze my ass, like I was a loaf of bread, a piece of meat. I'm not saying he never made me cum, he did, he always did. For the last year of my marriage I was not a wife, I was his sex toy. Just before Thanksgiving it came to a head, and I knew I had to leave. You see, I did not always give in. Sometimes I resisted.

I tried to that night.

"Ron please, not tonight, I'm tired, just go to sleep. " I begged him.

The look of hatred that was on his face terrified me, I really did not know what he would do.

"What the fuck did you say to me you dumb bitch? This is all you are good for. I'm gonna fuck you twice as hard, twice as long now. It's your own damn fault. Don't you ever defy me, you piece of shit. You shut up and take my mother fucking cock, is that clear!!" he roared at me.

"Y,yyes, I'm sorry. I'll do it, I'm sorry," I whimpered in fear and shock.

It had never been this bad.

"Good, 69 me bitch. I want to see how fat your ass has gotten. Suck me good Susan While I play with your chubby butt. "

It was so degrading. He mauled my ass, and tickled my pussy, while I slurped on his fat cock. My thighs were straddling his chest and I was so exposed to him. He kept whispering how soft and plump my ass was, how one day soon he would fuck me there. That's what my fat ass was made for. He said a slut like me would enjoy getting her ass split, and ripped. He kept playing with my pussy, massaging my ass as he spewed his filthy threats. I could not help it, I came all over him.

"That's right you sick little bitch, I knew you'd like this, I knew you'd want my dick inside of you, heh. What a nasty slut you are. I wish your precious daddy could see you now. Think daddy would like you if he knew you let me stick my finger in your ass? Look at it wiggle around! Sit still bitch. Not one word. Oh shit you have a sweet ass. I'm going to fuck you there, I'm gonna enjoy hurting you. I'll shut that smart mouth of yours. Smack! Whack, Thwap! Don't you dare scream. I own this ass and I'll spank it if I want to. Mmmm, soo good. That's it, keep sucking me, get me nice and hard. You know what's coming now don't ya Susie...stop. Lay down on your back, grab your ankles, spread em wide...wider damnit. Now say it, ask me to make love to you."

Usually I did, but usually it was not this bad.. I could not stop crying, I was shaking and shivering. I could not say the words.

"Please...oh god, please," I mewled. That made him laugh as he sunk his 8 inch dick into me, slowly, scraping my insides until he hit bottom. The he grabbed a tit in each hand and played with me.

"I love you Susan, you are the best fuck I've ever had. Nobody else has ever made me feel so good. Oooh that's it milk me, milk my fat cock, while I milk your tits". I was still nursing. Ron loved making me squirt my milk, getting it all over us, all over our bed. He was barely fucking me. He was so deep I could not help contracting, my pussy, as I tried to expel him. Every once in a while he'd slam into me brutally, just to let me know he was in charge. Then, he started playing with my pussy in earnest. He always did that, when he was ready to cum. He made me cum, to prove that I liked it. Just once I wished I could resist...but what could I do? Ron knew how to make me cum.

"Huh, huh, aghhhm ah god, eeee!"

"Oooh Susie, you're messing up the sheets, you really drenched them. I'm glad baby, glad I could make you happy. Here, taste how sweet you are," he said as scooped my cum on his hands, and then smeared it all over my face.

The sight of me covered in milk and girl cum, pushed him over the edge. He started slamming into me, hard, jerky powerful thrusts. He was pounding my pussy, ripping my cunt, rutting into me as hard as he could. What could I do? I just had to lay there and let my husband enjoy raping me. That's how it felt, but I know it wasn't really rape. I had never said no. He was my husband, he had not hit me, or truly forced me. He said he loved me, and made me cum. Twice. But I wasn't the point, he did not care if he gave me pleasure or not. Ron insisted on fucking me with the lights on, with my eyes open. He'd stare at me with those cold, cruel eyes as he dripped his spunk inside of me. It made me feel like I was being raped. He'd grunt and thrust into me hard. A nasty little sneer on his face as he fucked me in the missionary position. My 36 c tits jiggling, flapping as he invariably, inevitably asked me, "Do you like it baby, do you feel that Susan? But something was different that night. I looked up in the doorway, and saw my 3 yr. old daughter. "Da, don hurt my mommy!

It nearly broke my heart that she had seen it. She had seen me naked and spread, and seen her father's casual cruelty. But worst of all she saw how weak I was, how I accepted my humiliation. I did not want her to be like me. I wanted her to feel safe, and protected and loved. I knew I had to leave him, get my self respect back. If little Beth was getting old enough to understand that daddy was mean to mommy, then it was time to go. I had to, but it was not that easy.

My parents lived nearby, and helped out with daycare My dad ran a successful construction business. He was a bear of a man. An ex Jock, and 10 years in construction had layered him in muscle. Six four with thick blonde hair, trimmed in gray frosting at the temples. He had this deep belly laugh, and his eyes just kind of sparkled, when he looked at me, like he was sharing a private joke that only we were privy to. My dad always made me feel loved, but it was more than that. He made me feel special. Dad had known Ron was a loser, but I had refused to listen and married him. When we got into financial trouble all he asked me was how much do you need, and then gave me a thousand more than I asked for. He wasn't rich, he just figured I would ask for less than I really need, due to pride. He was right. When I told him I was pregnant at 20, he ran across the room and kissed me gently. Then he picked me up and led me around the room, laughing, giggling like an idiot. I wrapped my legs around his waist like a little kid, and he just kept hugging me.

Compare that to Ron's reaction and, well I lost it. I started crying. Daddy sat down and held me for a half hour. I fell asleep in his arms, listening to his deep rumbly voice tell me that he loved me, and it would be ok.

"Daddy will make sure everything is ok."

My parents were freakishly in love. They had been best friends since childhood, lovers in school, and married at 19. As much as dad loved me, he loved mom even more. It was almost like they were one person sometimes. Dad loved the idea of having a grandchild so of course... Mom was simply bonkers about being a grandma too. She was a school Teacher, and adored kids. I remember the look on her face when I told her that I wanted to name my daughter after her. It was no surprise that they fell hopelessly in love with Beth. Dad rearranged his work schedule to have afternoons free. He said that he had missed so much of my baby years working , that he was glad to get a second chance to do it right. They were great parents. Kind, loving, funny. I was so ashamed. It would break their hearts if they knew how fucked up my life was.

Finally I told mom what Ron had done, that he had raped me. She told me to leave him, to come home.

"Susan…my god, fuck him!! That , mother fucking piece of shit! I'll kill him myself. Nobody does that to my daughter. Oh baby, I'm so sorry. You deserve better. Come home with me. Daddy and I will take care of you,"she said as she sobbed in pain and grief while holding me.

I wanted to, I wanted to just shut down but…well I was 25 years old. It was time to grow up. I had messed up my life, I wanted to try and fix it. Mom said I could have 2 months. If Ron touched me again, she was telling my dad. Heh , snicker. I kept getting this image of Ron crying, draped over my dad's lap, with his pants down, while he got his ass spanked Hee, hee. See how you like it you he-bitch, man-slut.

I decided to take some more computer classes (Dad paid for it) and got my Microsoft Certification. I was finally making a little money, setting it aside, building a nest egg so I could leave Ron. He beat me to it. After cheating on me with my best friend, he cleaned out our joint account, and found my stash of $2,000. Our credit cards were maxed out and he left me, and Beth to fend for ourselves. Happy New Year!

I was a mess, struggling to make ends meet. Upset and depressed about being such a fool. I really was just as dumb as Ron said I was. My life could not get any worse...and then it did.

I got the call around 1am.

"Mmmwhoizzit...whadya want," I mumbled as I fumbled for the phone. "Susan, honey it's dad. I need you to come to Springdale memorial 's ER right away...mom's been hurt. Susan your mom has been hurt really bad. Drive safely...but oh god, I think you'd better hurry".

I dropped the receiver, threw on an overcoat and ran to my car. I did not even lock the door or think about my 4 yr. old daughter. Ten minutes later I was looking at a man I could barely recognize. He looked kinda like my dad, but this man was too small. He had obviously been crying and my dad never did that. This man looked like he had been broken, he was weak. My dad was tall, handsome with a mischievous glint in his eye and a quick wit. He gave tight bear hugs and deep belly laughs. I don't believe this man had ever laughed, or if he had, he never would again. He glanced up and saw me staring at him and slowly he pulled himself together. I watched as he stood straight, wiped his eyes, and called upon sheer strength of will to compose himself.

"Hello Susan, let's take a walk."

My father took me by the hand and led me outside to the ambulance bay.

"Dad I want to see mom, what did the doctor say, what happened?" I asked rapid fire. I knew if I could just see her, everything would be ok.

"Honey...your mom was in a car accident. She lost a lot of blood. The person who hit her drove off and just left her. Ahgod, he just left her. She did not receive treatment right away. Baby...the doctors tried, I, I saw them, I made sure. They really tried....but she was already gone."

Nononononononononono.... The words did not make sense. I heard him speaking but it was like a deep, buzzing mumble. I felt hot, I was clammy and, sweaty and cold. I realized I had no shoes on. I closed my eyes for a minute, and must have gotten dizzy or something. I looked up and my dad was calling my name. I was laying on the ground, shivering. He sat down next to me, in the parking lot of the hospital where my mother died, and pulled me into his lap. My dad held me, and rocked me and kissed my hair for a long, long time.

The next 3 weeks were a blur. You have not lived until you try and explain death to a four year old girl who loved her grandma very much. I tried to help out as much as I could. I was basically trying to work, take care of my kid, and run two households. My dad appeared to be normal but he wasn't. He just shut down. He barely spoke, never cried, and refused to go to the funeral.

"I'm sorry honey but I can't, I won't say goodbye to her. Not now, maybe not ever. I don't care what people think, I don't feel like being on display, listening to their platitudes, their polite sympathy. She's mine! I'll honor her in my own way, as I see fit. In private. I hope you can understand."

I sat in my father's lap, the way I had when I was a little girl. I kissed him and laid my head on his broad chest. He still did not cry, but that was ok. I cried for him.

That conversation, and my father's behavior made me a little afraid for him. He needed me, and Beth. He needed people, love, companionship. He needed to talk, to be with the living. I needed him too. I needed help, financially. Saving $700 a month on rent would be a big help. I'd use that money to pay off the credit card bills Ron had piled up. Thank god on the really big cards I was not an authorized buyer on the account. I guess he was afraid I would leave him, and stick him with the bill (hmm wonder why). Moving back home, just made the most sense. It felt good, right somehow. I noticed that I stopped calling him Dad. Moving back home, being around him everyday, having Beth call him "Grumpa" well it made me feel like his little girl again, he was my daddy. I was able to take care of him, I cooked and cleaned and washed for him. It felt kind of nice, to be there for my daddy, to know that he needed me. Beth got to live in a real house, with a big back yard. We showered daddy with love. It felt so good to live with a kind, decent man. No cursing, or screaming, or rape. Just love.

After nine months life seemed to return too normal. I was almost out of debt, Beth was in kindergarten. Daddy sold his company for a nice profit, and with mom's Life insurance, and the money from the drunk who murdered her, he was able to retire. Dad set up a college fund for Beth and a small trust fund for me. Then he added my name to the mortgage, and paid it off. I was thankful, really I was. But I began to get this odd vibe from him, like maybe he wasn't going to be around, like he was settling his affairs.

Dec 1st it all came to a head. Daddy had been acting odd all day. He got up early, put on a suit and a tie. It was 7am and I had just gotten out of the shower. I had on a bra and panties when there was a knock on my bedroom door.

"Come in sweetie..." I called to my daughter. She often came in and talked to me while I was getting ready for work. It was not my daughter.

"Oh my god, er um excuse me...I thought you said come in, I'm sorry, oh my god," my dad stammered as he blushed and stared at my nearly naked body. He turned his head, while I threw on a robe.

"Oh dad, you surprised me, sorry about that. I thought it was Beth. Why are you so dressed up today, you look really handsome daddy, c'mere let me straighten your tie."

My dad walked over to me slowly. I had to stand on my toes to reach my 6ft 4 inch father's neck. He must have dressed in the dark, his tie was over his collar in some places. I got very close to him and rested my arms on his shoulders as I fixed the mess he made. He smelled so good. Dad always used Bay Rum and Old Spice. I love the way he smells, wanted him to stay next to me for a little while.

"Dad I want to thank you for taking me and Beth in. I owe you so much. I don't know what I would have done. You've make me so happy. Being close to you again...well it feels really good. I love you so much," I said as I hugged him tight and nestled my body against him.

Then it happened. I felt daddy's penis move, just a twitch or two. I mean he did not get completely hard, but we both felt it.

"Um sweetie, I love you too, and I'm glad you are with me. I appreciate all you have done. Never forget that I love you and Beth. Now I've got to go. I'll see you later." I barely heard him. My brain was reeling. I made my daddy hard! That had never happened before. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Dad had always had mom before, he was getting sex on a regular basis. Casual contact with his daughter would not make him hard. But that had changed. Dad had not had sex in over 9 months. Still, the idea of daddy being a man, a sexual man with a penis, made me uncomfortable. After Ron, I did not like sex. He was the only man I'd ever been with, and I never wanted to have sex again.

It took most of the day for me to realize what the significance of Dec 1st was. It's my parent's wedding anniversary. I had a hunch, I knew where my dad was, where he would want to spend the day. I put on a nice dress, and asked a friend to pick Beth up from school. Then I joined my father at my mother's grave.

All these month's I knew he was sad, but I thought he was getting better. I was wrong. his grief was still fresh in him. He had kept the worst of it hidden from me. But it was still there. In fact it had gotten worse. He was sitting on a blanket next to my mom's plot. As I walked up I could hear him talking to...her.

"I love you baby, I miss you so much. I tried to be strong, but I'm tired, I need a break. I need my wife back. I have the right to be happy. I have the right to be with you. I just want to make sure our girls are ok. This is your fault. How dare you leave me. Damn you, I can't stand it anymore. What else can I do."

I did not know what to say, I was so scared, and angry, I just left. My father would not do this to me. He would not leave me too. I had to find a way to reach him, to let him know how much I loved him and needed him. Sometimes words just are not enough. Sometimes you have to show how much you care. It was late when my father came home. Beth was taking her bath and we had already eaten dinner.

"Dad...I'm sorry I forgot, I wasn't sure if you wanted to celebrate, um to be reminded of mom..." My father gave me a small smile, and a pat on the shoulder.

"It's ok sweetie, I just wanted to spend a little time with her. It's been almost a moth since I visited her last. I'm not really hungry, I think I'll just turn in," he said as he kissed my cheek and headed t his room.

Beth and I watched a movie, and then we went to bed too. Shortly after midnight, I went to the bathroom. I passed my parent's room, and could hear noises. My father was crying! I realized then how stupid I had been, how selfish. I had assumed that he had never cried for my mother. I was convinced that he had locked it all away. I was wrong. My father had been in pain, crying himself to sleep, and I never knew. He was just too proud to cry in front of me and Beth, but he was hurting. He needed me. What could I do? I waited until the crying stopped, counted to 30 and knocked on his door.