when It's Over

When it's over, he became sweet and tender again. Cuddling with me. Whispering tender things in my ear. Saying he's sorry for taking what he needed. For showing up on my doorstep again. For demanding sex again. For pushing his way in. For demanding I suck his dick. For throwing me on the bed. For shoving his dick in my pussy with only my own slobber for lube. For refusing to put on a condom. For fucking me hard. For telling me to shut the fuck up when he refused to pull out. For breeding me again. For making me suck his cock clean afterwards.

Every. Time. It's the same. Every. Day.

And every time, I forgive him. Because he's right when he says this is what I want. What I need. And because every hour of every day, I am praying the doorbell will ring with my father at the door demanding sex again.