And we were done trying to be nice and play it off. Our relationship failed -- on my part for always being wrong, and his part for drinking and contro...ling and ignoring. After our first miscarriage, something changed. Maybe I snapped. Maybe I was done, and my body killed the baby to try and kick my head and heart into gear to get out of this life. I don’t want to say midlife crisis, I wasn’t even thirty yet, for Christ’s sake. The second miscarriage, I felt next to nothing at all. All hope had. It seemed like only moments later, dad was in our bedroom, standing between our beds. He had pulled down our covers; our naked bodies were visible in the dim light. My eyes just barely opened and caught sight of his naked body and massive cock. I must have moaned, as he placed his fingers on my lips and said shush, go to sleep. He moved over to my sister's bedside by her pillow and pulled her head towards him, positioning his cock at her lips. I watched in a drunken stupor as he rubbed himself. More

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