Chapter 4

“Hi Mrs Wilson!” the chirpy pregnant lady across the fence said.

“Oh, no!” McKayla went to correct. “I’m not...”

She trailed off.

It had been almost three weeks since she’d arrived in Scaphis Valley. She knew that she should go back to New York, that her bosses were probably furious, or worried sick.

She knew that her landlord would have almost certainly rented out her apartment after she failed to pay rent, and she knew that he’d probably thrown out her possessions.

McKayla also knew that she should be drinking something more than just milk and honey. She occasionally cooked Theo up a steak, and she’d even been considering a Sunday roast - the store (there was only one in town, of course) had a leg of lamb that she’d been eyeing off as she popped in to refill their supplies, and she knew that Theo would like it.

She knew that they’d both been fervent vegetarians before coming to Scaphis Valley, and she knew that something was definitely up.

She just didn’t care.

It was so hard to care about trivialities like New York or vegetarianism, when your nights were essentially one long orgasm, and your weekends a non-stop session of intense fucking.

A month ago, she would have sworn that she’d never, ever enjoy herself in a small town. The very concept would have been terrifying and hilarious, and she would have put good money on spending the rest of her life in NYC.

But even taking the sex out of the occasion, Kayla was beginning to genuinely enjoy her time in Scaphis Valley. Ever since Theo had gone out and bought her some skirts and dresses - she hadn’t wanted to risk wasting money on pants that she didn’t fit into - and so she’d been able to leave the house and actually get to know her neighbors.

Mrs. Baker on the right, currently expecting her third. Joan on the left, pregnant with her first.

There was something so delightfully quaint about it; everyone was so family-focused, it was ... sweet.

Sweet, and incredibly sexy. McKayla was coming five or six times a day by her own hand, just imagining herself as one of these docile, sexy, knock-up housewives.

Not that she’d ever do it, of course. It was just a fantasy. A fantasy that was increasingly taking over her waking hours ... And so McKayla didn’t correct Joan’s assumption. Sure, she wasn’t married to Theo ... but that wasn’t far down the line. There was something nice about the mistake.

“Mrs. Wilson,” McKayla murmured to herself. She liked that.

“How was work today, darlin’?”

“It was good...” Theo said, sliding into his chair. For the first two weeks, he’d spent a few minutes each night trying to convince McKayla to go back, that she couldn’t throw away her career for good sex.

“I’m not, sweetie-pie” she’d playfully whispered in his ear. “I’d never do that...”

Her tongue had briefly explored his ear before she continued.

“I’m throwing it away for a mess o’ great sex.”

Even Theo couldn’t deny how mind-blowing the sex had been since she had come to visit. If he hadn’t set an alarm to take her to the bus, he doubted he would have been able to escape the stupor that was mind-blowing orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm.

At the end of the second week, she’d stopped trying to argue with him. Instead, whenever he began insisting that she go back, McKayla had simply pouted, and tilted her head to the side.

“Mr Theo,” she’d drawl. “Are y’all sayin’ you wanna throw away this great ass?”

Stammering, gulping, or avoiding eye-contact were his standard response to her questioning.

“It sounds to me,” she’d say, turning her back on him and drawing his attention to her rear end, “like you’re fixin’ for trouble. This thick, fat ass is waitin’ for yer attention, mister...”

By the time she’d finished peeling off her skirt or shorts, his pants would invariably be down and his objections forgotten.

That was as close to an argument as they ever got; even after he came back from work that first Monday, and noticed the changes in her body.