We Did Twice before, Early in the Morning, he wanted it Again But Our Second Child Woke up to Get His Plans Thwarted

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We achieved it yesterday. Twice before the rooster crowed. Early in the morning, he desired it again, but our second child woke up, thwarting his plans. Two days ago we accomplished it. Thrice before the dawn.

The third time was very painful for me. I didn’t want it. I fought against it with all my might, but he succeeded in getting what he wanted in the end. Three days ago, it occurred. It was so intense that our five-year-old child woke up and started calling my name.

The bed was shaking. He didn’t understand why. He was scared and trying to ask questions, but my husband wasn’t in the mood to stop for me to attend to him. My baby kept tapping me. My husband continued regardless. Four days ago, it happened. Five days ago, it happened. The same as six days ago. If I stand in front of the calendar and mark the days shuperu happened in my house, the calendar would bleed with ink. Every day would be circled because every night is shuperu night.

And that’s what is destroying me in my marriage.

We already have three kids. The first is seven years old. The second is five, while the youngest is two years old. The youngest and the second one sleep with us in the same room. We’ve tried many times to get them to sleep with their older sister, but they return to us. They might sleep there one day and decide to return to our bed the next day. There’s no issue with that. They are our kids, and we love their presence, but currently, the reason we have to push them away is because of my husband’s new energy and desire for shuperu every day.

Initially, we could go for days without anything happening. I didn’t complain. I didn’t nag him. It’s part of marriage. Some days you get it, some days you don’t. Some days it’s not satisfactory. Some days it’s just not what you expected. I never complained to my husband about the frequency. I’ve been married long enough to know there are ups and downs. I get it. I understand.

One night, he reminisced about our past. When we were young and carefree, indulging in shuperu anytime, anywhere. “Those were the days when we had our groove on, but these kids came and changed everything,” he said. I replied, “It’s part of growing up. I’m not complaining. We were young then, and now we have other priorities.” He insisted, “We’re still young and can do anything.”

It’s true, we’re not that old. He is forty, and I’m thirty-five. But going through three C-sections changes you. Being a mother brings many changes. That night’s conversation ended with him jokingly saying he wanted to bring back the old days.

But it turned into a nightmare for me. One night, he was relentless, causing me pain. I begged him to stop, but he didn’t. It wasn’t enjoyable. There was no romance, just force. The next day was no better. The alcohol on his breath made it worse. I confronted him, but he promised the next time would be better.

But it wasn’t. The alcohol remained a problem. It led to fights between us. I stood my ground, refusing to let him have his way. His anger lasted for days. Eventually, he threatened to withhold money from me if I didn’t comply. I tried to reason with him, but he insisted on drinking before our encounters.

I gave him a chance to change, hoping he would stop drinking. But it didn’t improve. We continued, with me feeling numb to his touches, just to keep him happy. I need a break, but I fear leaving him alone with his drinking habit. I want him to stop, but I don’t know how.

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