Nights were the worst times, those nights when, only partially awake, he would reach for the lovely, silken buttcheeks and not find them. He would be ...ide awake then as he realized what had happened. After that, there could be no sleep for a while, not until he had numbed the hurt with whiskey and water, much whiskey and a little water.Evenings were bad, too, especially after the kids were in bed. Those used to be among the best times as they necked in the living room until all was quiet. Those. **She awoke to find that John had carried her in to the house, to their bedroom. She was naked on the bed, as John had removed her soiled clothes. He sat on the bed next to her. "So do you want to talk about tonight?" He asked her.She bit her lip. "John, I..." she began."Whore," he stated it simply. He might have simply been noting the time of day. He stated it as a fact. Brenda couldn't read him, still.He stood staring at her naked abused body, still soiled from the bar.And then he started to. More

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