Prologue: Let´s Get Out!
Sexy weekends - Erotic novel
English Edition
Volume 1 of the Bridget series
TD Rosary
© English Edition, 2022 TD Rosari
Prologue: Let’s Get Out!
The thin and pale 14-year-old girl sat in her bed, scared and intimidated. She mechanically stroked her cat, which had perched on her lap. The pet seemed to comfort the girl. Bridget looked to her older sister, who shared the room with her, for help. But Nora had put on headphones and was listening to music. She avoided to hear what was going on downstairs in the kitchen of the family home.
It was Friday. Bridget’s father had come home from work. He was tired but pretended to be in good spirits. At that moment, Bridget always felt the hope that this weekend would be different than the weekends before. She hoped for a peaceful, harmonious family life. Or was that asking too much?
Bridget’s father worked abroad as a fitter and only made it home on weekends. He didn’t work here, in the provinces, but wherever there was good-paying work for him. This work was in the city, in the big industrial agglomerations.
This family arrangement of the spouses had once been a very difficult but joint decision. One had to make sacrifices to get ahead. For Bridget’s father, the sacrifice was distance from his wife and children. The Herculean task of looking after five school-age children on her own awaited her mother. But here in the country you learned to tackle things. Build a house and earn money was the motto. Be diligent, don’t whine. Traditions and conservative family values were very popular. Even if you were estranged from the church, you still had to keep up appearances. The neighbours made sure that all the rules were observed. Any deviation from the predefined peasant-catholic-conservative path of virtue was sanctioned. Through gossip and whispering. At regulars’ tables, at coffee parties. The ultimate sanction, slander, was brutal. Because those who were not caught breaking the rules could rise above those on whom life was playing tricks. The malicious joy, the malice and the vanity of those who judged was boundless.
Bridget’s father was in the mood for his wife that night. He wanted sex. Bridget knew that didn’t bode well. Because Bridget’s mother was tired, worn out, exhausted. In addition, her mother was afraid of getting pregnant again. And since Catholic sexual morality was taken at face value, and contraception was thus taboo, she could not give in to sexual desires. Neither those of the man, nor those of their own, which only appeared sparsely.
The refusal was followed by a lack of understanding, disappointment and frustration. The husband did not understand the sexual distance of his partner. The wife did not understand the man’s lust and greed and his lack of understanding of her situation. There was a fight. They hurt each other with accusations, condemnations, reproaches and conjectures. It was always about the money. Or poor school performance of the children. Or banal things like a neglected flower bed. Or the boring meal at the family lunch table.
These disputes never ended with a gesture of reconciliation or a hug. Bridget’s father got in the car. He got drunk. When he came home, he was even more demanding and aggressive. The quarrels started again. Only now they were louder, more hateful, more unforgiving. And as the night progressed, the situation escalated. But today, on this day, it got even worse. Bridget’s father took whatever he wanted. And in that moment, Bridget knew she had to get out of here.
