Five Nights in Dublin: An Affair

Author's Note

This story is written in a woman's voice, for women -- especially for those who have lived, or are living, in abusive relationships.

Some scenes depict coercion and non-consensual acts in explicit detail. They are not here to glorify or eroticise abuse, but to show its reality -- the confusion, the conflicted arousal, the way it can erode a woman's sense of self and choice. If you have experienced this, you may recognise the truth in Eve's words.

Ultimately, this is a story about awakening. About learning the difference between possession and love. About finding the courage to walk away, even when you've been made to believe you cannot.

Eve's journey is fictional, but her emotions are not. They belong to too many women.

If you are in a relationship where consent is ignored or boundaries are crossed against your will, you deserve safety, respect, and the freedom to choose. This story is dedicated to those who have found that freedom -- and to those still searching for it.

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"You asked me once when I first had sex. I've never told anyone the truth about that night -- not my friends, not my mother, not even David. But you... you look at me like you can take it, like you want all of me, even the ugly edges."

"I was eighteen. I'd just finished my A-levels, still living at home, still the dutiful Catholic daughter who didn't drink, didn't swear, and hadn't let a boy do more than hold my hand. Chris was almost 27. He was charming in a way that felt dangerous -- the kind of man my mother would have warned me about, if she'd known. She didn't. She thought he was respectable. She didn't know he waited for me in the shadows outside youth group, didn't know the way his hand settled on the small of my back like he already owned me."

"The first time... it wasn't candles and soft music. It was in his flat, on a night he'd convinced me to 'see where he lived.' My hands were shaking before the door even closed. He kissed me like he was starving, like I was his first meal in days, and when I tried to slow things down, he just... pressed harder. My skirt was up around my hips before I could think. I remember the smell of his cologne, the weight of his body, the scratch of his unshaven jaw against my cheek. I remember how much it hurt -- and how he whispered that it he lovec me."

"I didn't come that time. I didn't even know how, but it aroused me. But I told him I was fine, because I thought that was what love looked like. I let him roll off me, tuck himself away, and pat my thigh like I'd passed some kind of test."

She pauses here, looking at you with a mix of challenge and vulnerability.

"That was my first time. Does it make you want me less... or more?"

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"It's hard to say this out loud... but I can still feel it, even now. That night -- my first time -- it wasn't just pain. I wish it had been, because then I could have kept it simple in my head, told myself it meant nothing. But my body betrayed me."

"Chris had me backed against the arm of his sofa, his hand sliding up my thigh like he was unwrapping a gift. My legs wouldn't work -- part of me wanted to push him away, part of me wanted to know what it would feel like. When his fingers brushed the damp cotton between my legs, I gasped. I'd never been touched there before. I didn't even touch myself. And it was like something deep inside me woke up."

"He knew it too. He smiled against my neck, a low, satisfied sound, and then he had me on my back. My knickers were gone before I realised he'd taken them. I remember the cold air on me, the feeling of being open... and his eyes on me, drinking it in. I was blushing everywhere, even down there. My knees were bent and he was between them, pressing the thick weight of himself against me. It felt impossibly big, hot, hard -- and then he pushed inside. God, it hurt. I made this little cry -- half surprise, half fear -- but at the same time there was this flicker, this pulse of heat that made me arch my hips up to meet him without thinking."

"I hated that. I hated that I was helping him, that my body was wet enough to let him all the way in. Each time he drove forward, the sharp sting softened into something else... something that made my toes curl and my stomach tighten. I didn't know it was pleasure -- not properly -- but I knew I wanted him to keep moving. And when his hand found my breast through my blouse, I thought I might stop breathing altogether."

"It didn't last long. He groaned, jerked, and then I felt this hot rush inside me. I didn't even know men did that. I felt so full -- and I didn't want him to pull out, not yet. Isn't that awful? He gave me nothing else, no softness, no kiss... just zipped himself up and told me I'd been a 'good girl. and he loved me '"

Eve leans closer to you now, eyes dark, voice low.

"And now you know why I am the way I am. I learned to come from a man I don't think i really loved, in a room that smelled of his sweat. And every time you touch me, I wonder if you can tell."

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"I told myself I was falling in love with him. That was easier than admitting I didn't know how to say no anymore. He had this way of making every refusal sound childish, like I was just too naïve to understand how the world worked. I'd never been anyone's before -- never been claimed. And he made sure I knew I was his."

"After that first time, he didn't wait long before having me again. A week later, in his car, parked on a dark lane. He had my skirt bunched at my waist before I'd even unbuckled my seatbelt. I remember the sound of rain on the roof, the way his breath misted the glass, the smell of leather and his cologne. He took me hard and fast, one hand on the back of my neck, the other between my thighs, pressing until I gasped. That night, I came for the first time. Not a gentle shiver -- a desperate, shaking release that made me bite his shoulder to stop from crying out. I hated myself for it. I couldn't even pray afterwards -- I felt unworthy."

"Then there was the night it happened. We were on his sofa again, and I was on top of him for the first time. He guided me down, both hands on my hips, lifting me, lowering me. It hurt in a different way -- deep, almost bruising -- but he kept telling me to keep going, that I was beautiful like that. I was sweating, thighs trembling, when I felt this strange, low ache deep inside. He groaned, thrust upward, and I felt him spill into me. I didn't think much of it until weeks later, when my period never came."

"I told him I thought I might be pregnant. He didn't panic. He didn't even look surprised. He just smiled this slow, satisfied smile and said, 'Well... you'll be mine now, won't you?'"

"Three months later, my mother found out. She sat me down at the kitchen table, her face pale and tight, and told me I must marry him. She didn't shout. She didn't cry. She just said, 'Eve, there's no other way.' The shame was like a physical thing, pressing on my chest. But Chris was from a wealthy family. He had his own flat, a nice car, a good job. I told myself it could have been worse. I told myself maybe this was God's plan."

"Our wedding night... God, I wish I could say it was tender, it felt brutal, exciting, i dont know what i felt. But it was just Chris, impatient, unbuttoning my dress before the hotel door had even clicked shut. My belly was already just beginning to swell, and he kept one hand there, on the small curve, while he took me from behind. I remember staring at the white sheets, thinking how strange it was to be naked in front of a man who was now my husband, but who had never really asked me to be his wife. He finished inside me, just like he always did, then kissed my shoulder and said, 'There. Now you really belong to me, your mine.'"

"In the months after, he used me whenever he wanted. Mornings before work, late at night when I was half-asleep, even once in the pantry while dinner was in the oven. At first, I felt like nothing more than a body he could use. But somewhere along the way... I started to crave it. I started to like the way he held me down, the way his weight felt over me. I learned to arch my back just how he liked, to open my legs before he even asked. And when I began to moan for him -- not pretending, but meaning it -- that's when I realised I'd stopped fighting. I was a wife now. His wife. " i loved him?."

Eve's gaze lingers on you, searching your face.

"You look at me like you can't decide if you're sorry for me... or jealous."

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"Chris never let me go on the pill. He said it was 'unnatural' and 'made women fat,' but deep down I knew the truth -- he liked the risk. He liked knowing he could put a baby in me anytime he wanted.

After our daughter Lauren was born, I was terrified of falling pregnant again too soon, so I learned to count the days. I kept a little calendar hidden in my bedside drawer, even used one of those plastic calculators from the chemist, marking out my fertile window like it was a military operation."

"When those days came around, I would start hinting. I'd tell him I was fertile, that we needed to be careful. Sometimes he'd just smirk and say, 'Then I'll be extra careful to fill you up.' Those nights were the worst. I'd beg him to use a condom -- really beg, almost in tears -- but he'd just shake his head. If I pleaded hard enough, there was only one compromise he'd accept."

"Anal."

" I hated it. The first time, I cried afterwards. But Chris... Chris made it clear it was the only way I could be sure.

He'd start with me on my back, fucking me until I was panting and soft and couldn't think straight, then he'd pull out and tell me to turn over. He never prepared me -- just pressed himself in, slow but relentless, one hand on my hip, the other pressed between my shoulder blades. I'd bite the pillow, tense my whole body, counting the seconds until he groaned and emptied himself inside me. And then he'd kiss my hair, like he'd just done me a favour."

" i think in the end i guess i liked it "

"Fertile times became a routine. Sometimes he'd still take me properly -- deep, unprotected -- but pull out just before he came. Other times he'd have me suck him until he was close, then push me over the arm of the sofa and finish in my arse. I dreaded those nights, but they were better than the constant anxiety of wondering if I was pregnant again."

"Even so, there were scares. So many. I lost count of the pregnancy tests I bought, hiding them under boxes of tissues in the bathroom bin.

Every month, the same ritual -- waiting for the second line, feeling my stomach twist in fear, then the rush of relief when it stayed blank. And every month, Chris would just smile and say, 'See? I told you I knew what I was doing.'"

"But I loved him, did i like the thrill of his seed in me ", " Did i love him, Or at least I loved the man I thought he was.

And I wanted to be the good wife -- the dutiful, obedient wife my mother told me a Catholic woman should be. So I learned to accept it.

I learned to open my mouth when he wanted, to turn over when he told me, to smile and thank him afterwards. Somewhere along the way, I even convinced myself it was normal. That every marriage worked like that."

She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I never told anyone. Not until now. And the way you're looking at me... makes me think you'll never forget it."

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"My life with Chris fell into a routine so fixed it could have been written into the calendar. Unless I was bleeding -- and then it was only oral or anal -- there was no day without sex. No day without him inside me."

"Mornings were the worst for me. I'm not a morning person, never have been. But Chris... Chris liked to wake me before the alarm, when I was still half-dreaming. He'd slide into me from behind, one arm around my waist, his breath warm on my neck. Sometimes I'd barely be awake before he was already moving, deep inside me. He liked me pliant, sleepy, not thinking -- just opening for him. He'd finish with this low grunt, pull me close, and then leave me there, full of him, while he showered and dressed for work. More often than not, he'd be out the door while his cum was still warm inside me."

" I was often aroused after the event, that he'd taken me, and I would often mastubate afterwards, was that wrong?

"The truth? I was never without it. Every day, some part of me carried him. It was like wearing him -- his scent, his taste, his seed -- all day long, i hated it, but in a way loved it "

"Five o'clock was another fixed point. I'd hear his key in the lock and my stomach would tighten, wherher for excitement, anticipation maybe dread. Before dinner, before he even asked about my day, he'd have me on my knees in the kitchen or the hallway, his cock in my mouth. He liked it quick, urgent, one hand twisted in my hair. I'd swallow every time -- there was never a choice -- and then go back to cooking as if nothing had happened."

"And then the nights. Always the same. We'd go to bed, he'd read the paper or watch the news while I brushed my teeth, and as soon as the light was out he'd reach for me. Sometimes slow, sometimes rough, but always ending the same way -- with him spilling into me and pulling me close in that tight spoon he liked. He'd fall asleep almost immediately, breathing heavy against my hair, and I'd lie there, staring into the dark, the wet heat of him seeping down my thighs."

"I used to think that was what marriage was. Being claimed, over and over, until there was no part of me he hadn't touched, filled, or marked. And I tried -- I really tried -- to match his drive. I told myself it was love. I told myself that wanting to keep up with him was a sign I was a good wife."

"But in reality... was i just surviving. And surviving meant letting him take as much as he wanted."

She pauses, eyes searching yours.

"You asked me why I stayed so long. Now you know. Habit is a harder chain to break than love."

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"When Chris got laid off, everything changed. I thought he'd be angry, withdrawn -- that maybe we'd even have some breathing space between us. I was wrong. It went from three times a day to five... sometimes six. He started going to the gym religiously, came home talking about 'bulking' and 'cutting,' bottles of protein shakes lining the kitchen counter. Then the vials appeared -- little glass tubes I'd never seen before. He said they were 'just supplements,' but I wasn't stupid. The muscles filled out, his veins stood up under his skin, and his sex drive... God, it was like living with a man half his age and twice as urgent."

"I couldn't keep up. And yet... I did in a way i wanted it. Part of me dreaded the constant ache in my body, the sore thighs, the rawness between my legs. But another part -- a darker, needier part -- felt alive with it.

I liked the way my body felt used, the constant reminder that I was wanted. I liked waking up sore, knowing it was from him. I told myself it was proof I was still desirable, still his."

"But the money was tight. I knew I had to work, if only to cover the gaps. That's when I saw the ad in the paper -- a position for a lab technician in a hospital. Monday to Friday, eight to four. I thought Chris would object, but he just shrugged and said, 'As long as you're home when I need you i agreed, the thought of him needing me made me wet.'"

"The first day, I wore a plain white blouse and a navy skirt -- sensible, forgettable. I was shown around the lab by the supervisor, and that's when I saw him. David. He was in a white coat, sleeves rolled up, hair a little too long to be neat, pen tucked behind his ear. He was a doctoral student doing his PhD, but there was nothing boyish about him. He looked up from his microscope, met my eyes, and smiled like we already had a secret."

"At first, it was nothing more than small talk. Passing in the corridor, him asking if I wanted a coffee from the machine, me teasing him about the state of his desk. But it grew -- slowly, quietly. He started lingering after conversations, his eyes resting on me a little too long. I found myself thinking about him on the bus home, wondering what his hands would feel like if they weren't gloved. And then I caught him looking at my mouth one afternoon when I was explaining a protocol to him, and something in me just... shifted."

"With Chris, everything was urgent, physical, about taking. With David, it was in the pauses, the silences, the way his gaze moved over me like he was memorising me. I'd go home and let Chris have me, but in my head... I was already imagining Darren there instead."

She smiles faintly now, as if tasting the memory.

"That's how it began. Not with a kiss. Not even with a touch. Just with the quiet certainty that something was about to happen... something that would change everything."

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"By then, David and I had been working together for months. We'd been assigned to a joint project -- a study on a novel marker for certain cancers. Long hours in the lab, cross-checking data, writing protocols... it became our world. And David -- he was different when we were working side-by-side. Serious. Focused. But still with that little glint in his eye whenever we caught each other's gaze over the bench."

In the lab, late afternoon

David: "You've been at this all day. Let me take over the data entry before your handwriting kills the results."

Eve: (smiling) "My handwriting is perfectly legible. You just have poor eyesight."

David: "Legible? This looks like you wrote it during an earthquake. Come on, swap seats."

(He slides into her chair, his knee brushing hers. She doesn't move away. He smells faintly of coffee and the faint antiseptic tang of the lab.)

Eve: "You're lucky I like you. Anyone else, I'd guard this data like my firstborn."

David: (glancing up at her) "Lucky, am I? I'd say it's more... mutual benefit. Which reminds me, I'm putting your name on the paper."

Eve: (blinking) "You don't have to do that."

David: "I'm not doing it as a favour. You've done as much as I have, maybe more. You deserve the credit."

Eve: "Chris won't... understand what that means."

David: (pausing) "It's not about Chris. It's about you. You're good at this. You should own it."

"That was how Dublin came about. A symposium -- a week away, all expenses paid. David and I would present the findings, I'd be named as co-author. Chris had just started his new job on night shifts, so for the first time in years, the sex eased off. He'd get in around five in the morning, while I was still asleep, and most days I could pretend to stay that way."

"But other mornings... I'd wake before him. And I'd do it -- I'd reach for him, take him in my mouth, feel him stir and harden against my tongue. He'd sigh, half-asleep, and let me finish him. I told myself it was i wanted it, and at times i did,. But in those moments, kneeling in the dim light with his taste in my mouth, I'd hear my own voice in my head: Why are you doing this? "

"The answer was always the same -- because I was his wife. And wives... did things like that."

Eve's Voice -- to her lover

"The flight to Dublin was short, but it felt like another world. Chris had kissed me goodbye that morning, still smelling faintly of last night's shift, and told me to 'be good.'

I told myself I would, i lied. i had already prepared. But sitting next to David on the plane, knees brushing in the narrow seats, hearing him laugh at something I said -- I felt lighter than I had in years."

⸻

Hotel lobby, late afternoon

David: "So, they've given us separate rooms, but same floor. Not too far if you forget your toothpaste."