Read Online Somewhere Only We Know ....... by Leanne Burn - Free Book Online
Authors: Leanne Burn
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after we moved back to Kinsley, Keith
started having a drink before he came home. Not a lot, he
wasn ’ t mortal or anything,
but there was a slight tilt in his personality and although on the
odd occasion he still wet the bed, these had become more infrequent
the more secure he had become in our relationship. But the nights
that he had a drink, the bed wetting would be back.
The other
thing that I didn ’ t like
when he drank was his weird sex requests. We had a healthy sex life
usually, we experimented but it was always fun, when he had a drink
his demands would be verging on kinky: he wanted anal sex, he
wanted me to have anal sex with him using one our toys, he wanted
to piss on me … .. It went on
and on. I would make excuses not to have sex, but often they would
fall on deaf ears and I would end up having to endure his strange
urges, I would be left feeling sore and humiliated.
So our life chugged on. I was close to my
family, enjoyed my work, had nights out with my friends and for the
most part was happy with Keith. When the Company that Keith worked
for went into liquidation he was even lucky enough to secure a new
job with a communication company and bank a few quid he received in
redundancy.
He had a new
set of workmates and I saw a difference in him straightaway. All
his new colleagues were what I would call ‘ fly boys ’ always out to make a bit on money on the side.
They worked hard and they partied hard and Keith at 21 went along
for the ride. There was always something for him to invest a bit of
money in, something to buy and sell and soon our savings were
dwindling, for all the hype about how much he was going to make, I
saw very little in return.
The ‘ fly boys ’ often went straight into town for a night out
from work, and Keith the Sheep went with them. I would often think
when he didn ’ t come in for
his tea that I bet the ‘ fly
boy ’ s
didn ’ t have an altar-egos
that emerged the further down a pint they drank. I used to lie in
bed and wait until I heard his key in the lock, then I would
pretend I was asleep.
Sometimes he would wake me up and want sex,
sometimes he would just collapse into bed and fall into a coma like
sleep. I would lie there waiting for his breathing to change and
then I would get up and go and sleep on the settee. I had learnt
not to stay in the bed with him, he would only be asleep for 10
minutes or so when I would feel the warmth on my back as he pissed
the bed.
The nights
out became more and more frequent, it was exhausting but something
was changing between us and I didn ’ t know how to stop it, because not long after he started
his new job, his sober nights became an ordeal too.
We were
still as affectionate as ever with each other. I coped with the bed
wetting and even endured the strange sex request, I put it down to
the drink and thought that he would never treat me like that if he
was sober. But I was tired with it all, and for the first time
ever, when we went to bed one night and Keith wanted sex, I said
no. He huffed and turned his back to me. Please yourself I thought,
if you weren ’ t such a dick
when you were drunk I wouldn ’ t feel like this,
then turned
my back to him and went to sleep. I woke up and
couldn ’ t get my head into
gear. Keith was having sex with me, he had actually pulled up my
nightie and pushed his cock into me and was fucking me while he
thought I was asleep. I lay there motionless, I
couldn ’ t move, I
didn ’ t want me to know I was
awake because I didn ’ t know
how I felt about this.
He finished,
pulled down my nightie and rolled back away from me. Still I
couldn ’ t move. I waited
until I knew he was asleep and slipped out of our bed. I went
downstairs, put the kettle on and lit a cigarette.
My hands were shaking. I had said no to sex
but he had done it anyway when I was asleep. I felt used and dirty.
I could have been anyone in that bed, he just wanted a shag, there
was no love or affection, just him
started having a drink before he came home. Not a lot, he
wasn ’ t mortal or anything,
but there was a slight tilt in his personality and although on the
odd occasion he still wet the bed, these had become more infrequent
the more secure he had become in our relationship. But the nights
that he had a drink, the bed wetting would be back.
The other
thing that I didn ’ t like
when he drank was his weird sex requests. We had a healthy sex life
usually, we experimented but it was always fun, when he had a drink
his demands would be verging on kinky: he wanted anal sex, he
wanted me to have anal sex with him using one our toys, he wanted
to piss on me … .. It went on
and on. I would make excuses not to have sex, but often they would
fall on deaf ears and I would end up having to endure his strange
urges, I would be left feeling sore and humiliated.
So our life chugged on. I was close to my
family, enjoyed my work, had nights out with my friends and for the
most part was happy with Keith. When the Company that Keith worked
for went into liquidation he was even lucky enough to secure a new
job with a communication company and bank a few quid he received in
redundancy.
He had a new
set of workmates and I saw a difference in him straightaway. All
his new colleagues were what I would call ‘ fly boys ’ always out to make a bit on money on the side.
They worked hard and they partied hard and Keith at 21 went along
for the ride. There was always something for him to invest a bit of
money in, something to buy and sell and soon our savings were
dwindling, for all the hype about how much he was going to make, I
saw very little in return.
The ‘ fly boys ’ often went straight into town for a night out
from work, and Keith the Sheep went with them. I would often think
when he didn ’ t come in for
his tea that I bet the ‘ fly
boy ’ s
didn ’ t have an altar-egos
that emerged the further down a pint they drank. I used to lie in
bed and wait until I heard his key in the lock, then I would
pretend I was asleep.
Sometimes he would wake me up and want sex,
sometimes he would just collapse into bed and fall into a coma like
sleep. I would lie there waiting for his breathing to change and
then I would get up and go and sleep on the settee. I had learnt
not to stay in the bed with him, he would only be asleep for 10
minutes or so when I would feel the warmth on my back as he pissed
the bed.
The nights
out became more and more frequent, it was exhausting but something
was changing between us and I didn ’ t know how to stop it, because not long after he started
his new job, his sober nights became an ordeal too.
We were
still as affectionate as ever with each other. I coped with the bed
wetting and even endured the strange sex request, I put it down to
the drink and thought that he would never treat me like that if he
was sober. But I was tired with it all, and for the first time
ever, when we went to bed one night and Keith wanted sex, I said
no. He huffed and turned his back to me. Please yourself I thought,
if you weren ’ t such a dick
when you were drunk I wouldn ’ t feel like this,
then turned
my back to him and went to sleep. I woke up and
couldn ’ t get my head into
gear. Keith was having sex with me, he had actually pulled up my
nightie and pushed his cock into me and was fucking me while he
thought I was asleep. I lay there motionless, I
couldn ’ t move, I
didn ’ t want me to know I was
awake because I didn ’ t know
how I felt about this.
He finished,
pulled down my nightie and rolled back away from me. Still I
couldn ’ t move. I waited
until I knew he was asleep and slipped out of our bed. I went
downstairs, put the kettle on and lit a cigarette.
My hands were shaking. I had said no to sex
but he had done it anyway when I was asleep. I felt used and dirty.
I could have been anyone in that bed, he just wanted a shag, there
was no love or affection, just him
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