As I stood by the study door waiting for an answer, the silence stretched on, making the seconds feel like hours. When no response came, I cautiously entered the room. There, I saw Richard engrossed in writing in a journal.
Taking a deep breath, I called his name softly. He continued to ignore me; his focus unwavering. Gathering courage, I moved closer and gently touched his shoulder. Startled, he turned around quickly, his expression shifting from surprise to irritation when he saw it was me. "What are you doing here?" he asked coldly. "Did we not agree to stay out of each other's way?" I stammered, trying to find my words. "I just came to tell you that I cooked. Do you want some?" Richard's eyes filled with contempt as he looked at me. He turned back to his journal without a word. After a moment, he glanced back up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You cooked? You? Even if I believed anything you said, the idea that you cooked is laughable. You're just a cheating liar. His words stung, and I could feel my resolve weakening. Without saying anything else, I turned and left the study, my heart heavy with rejection and shame. As I made my way back downstairs, I saw my son, Tommy, and his nanny at the kitchen table, working on his homework. They had already cleared away the dishes from earlier. I went back to the kitchen and began preparing a simple meal for Richard. I made toast and eggs, focusing on each step as if it were the most important task in the world. When I finished, I plated the food and handed it to the nanny. "Could you take this to Richard?" I asked her. "Tell him you made it. Don't mention that it was me." The nanny looked surprised and hesitant but took the plate from me and nodded. With a heavy heart, I sat down at the kitchen table, watching Tommy and the nanny from a distance. After the nanny returned, I could see the curiosity in her eyes, but she didn't ask any questions. Instead, she continued helping Tommy with his homework. I felt a pang of guilt and sadness as I realized how much the owner of this body had missed in her son's life how could a mother be so cruel to even her own child. The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. I made it a point to cook more meals, each time asking the nanny to serve them to Richard without mentioning my involvement. I also started helping Tommy with his homework and spending more time with him. Slowly, I began to see a change in the way he looked at me. The fear and hesitation were still there, but there were also moments of genuine warmth and affection. One evening, as I was tucking Tommy into bed, he looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Mommy, are you going to stay with us now?" and you and daddy is going to stop fighting he asked. His question caught me off guard, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat before answering. "Yes, Tommy. I'm here to stay. I promise." After I tucked Tommy into bed, I carefully made my way downstairs, my heavy stomach adding to the weight of my thoughts. The kitchen was quiet, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I sat at the kitchen table, my mind racing with ideas on how to mend my relationship with Richard. It was clear that our marriage was in shambles, and I needed to do something drastic to change that. I decided then that I would try to make this marriage work. The next morning, I woke up early, my body still adjusting to the routine. I moved quietly around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for Richard. As I cooked, I thought about how strange it was to be in this unfamiliar body, in this unfamiliar life. Yet, there was something oddly comforting about the routine. It gave me a sense of purpose, When Richard came downstairs, I greeted him with a hesitant smile. "Good morning," I said, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. He looked surprised but didn't say anything. Instead, he sat down and started eating. I watched him nervously, waiting for some sign of approval or disapproval. After a few moments, he looked up at me. "Thank you," he said, his tone neutral. And went out of the house through the window I could see him enter into his car while the bodyguard closed the door, I guessed my husband is truly a wealthy man. After Richard had gone, I decided it was time to change out of thie gown i was wearing as it was already very dirty. I made my way upstairs to the room where I usually slept, hoping to find something more comfortable and appropriate to wear. Entering the bedroom, I approached the closet with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. As I opened the doors and sifted through the hangers, a sense of unease settled over me. The clothes were all of a particular style daring, revealing outfits that seemed more suited for nightlife than for a married woman at home. Frustrated and at a loss, I decided to seek help. I headed back downstairs, my steps heavy with uncertainty. I found the nanny in the living room, busy tidying up some toys. She looked up as I approached, a curious expression on her face. "Excuse me," I said, hesitating for a moment. "Could you help me with something?" The nanny straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron. "Of course, Ma'am. What do you need?" I took a deep breath. "I was looking for some different clothes to wear, but all I found in the closet were these... well, rather revealing outfits. Do you know if there are any other clothes, something more suitable for a married woman?" The nanny's eyes widened slightly, and then she let out a small chuckle. "You don't remember, do you?" I frowned, confused. "Remember what?" She shook her head, still smiling. "Those are the clothes you've always worn, Ma'am. You had quite the collection. It was your style, your way of expressing yourself." I felt a flush of embarrassment. "I see," I murmured, trying to process this new information. "But... I don't feel comfortable in them anymore. Is there anything else I could wear?" The nanny looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I suppose we could look in the storage room. You might have kept some of your old clothes there." Relieved at the prospect of finding something more suitable, I followed her to the storage room. We rummaged through boxes and garment bags until we finally found a few pieces that were more to my liking—simple, comfortable clothes that felt more like me. "Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful. "This feels much better." The nanny nodded, a hint of amusement still in her eyes. "It's no problem, Ma'am. Just let me know if you need anything else." After I had gotten dressed, I went downstairs to find the nanny. The comfortable dress gave me a renewed sense of confidence, and I felt ready to face the day. I found the nanny in the living room, still busy with Tommy’s toys. As I approached her, I could see Tommy’s eyes light up with curiosity. “I’m going for a stroll,” I announced, hoping to catch a breath of fresh air and clear my mind. Before I could say anything else, Tommy sprang up from his seat, running to where his shoes were kept. “I want to go with you, Mommy!” he exclaimed, his excitement palpable. The nanny, however, stepped in with a firm expression. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I have strict orders not to let you leave the house until you have delivered.” I felt a pang of frustration but tried to remain calm. “Who gave you these orders?” I asked, although I already knew the answer. “Mr. Richard, Ma’am,” she replied apologetically. “He was very specific about it.” I looked down at Tommy’s eager face and then back at the nannyI looked down at my son's disappointed face, my heart ached. His excitement to go out had turned sour after the nanny said my husband had prohibited me from going out. Wanting so eagerly to lift his spirits, I turned to the nanny. "Could you please call my husband? I need to speak with him," I asked, hoping to reason with him and make him understand that I was not like before. The nanny looked at me, slightly hesitant but finally nodded. "Okay, Ma'am." She retrieved the phone and dialed the number that connected directly to Richard's secretary. After a few rings, a voice that dripped with arrogance answered, "Who is this?" The nanny replied, "This is Mr. Richard's wife. She would like to have a word with him." There was a brief pause at the other end of the phone before the secretary's voice returned, colder than before. "He's busy" she said with that, she hung up. I felt so helpless and frustrated because in my former body I was not restricted from moving around since my h
Though I had been awake for a while, but I immediately closed my eyes tight and pretended to be sleeping as soon as I felt Richard coming awake. He sat up and stared down at me for a few moments, then gently removed his hand from under my head. I kept my breathing even, listening to the sound of his footsteps as he moved to the bathroom. The water ran for a short while, and soon he returned with a wet cloth. He carefully removed the old one from my stomach and replaced it with the fresh, cool towel. His touch was unexpectedly tender, and I fought to keep my eyes closed, savoring this rare moment of affection. After tending to me, Richard quietly left the room. I waited, making sure he was gone, before daring to open my eyes. A smile crept across my face. It had been so long since I had felt such care and attention from anyone, let alone a man. The memory of his gentle touch filled me with tingling butterflies in my belly. Trying to seat up on the bead, when I heard a sof
I woke up early, the first rays of dawn barely touching the horizon, to prepare breakfast since I was not able to sleep. I busied myself in the kitchen, and by the time the rest of the house began to stir, breakfast was ready. I had prepared a simple yet hearty meal of apple pie and some pancakes for Tommy. As I was setting the table, I heard footsteps descending the stairs. Looking up, I saw Richard and Tommy coming down together. My heart beat very fast in my chest, like I was running a race. I stared at Richard’s face, and I felt my legs tremble. He was so cute, even with the way his hair was tousled, he still looked good. I guess I was staring for too long. When Richard looked towards me and caught me looking, I quickly averted my gaze as my cheeks burned in embarrassment. At that moment, if there was another word for embarrassment, that was what I was feeling. I felt as if the ground should open up and swallow me whole. My cheeks burned with shame and turned crimson
"What?" I exclaimed, unable to hide my shock. My son's eyes welled up with tears as he looked at me with an expectant gaze. "Yes, Mom, I’ve seen other parents doing it. I want you and Dad to kiss so I know you're not fighting." I was taken aback, standing there in stunned silence How could I explain to him the complexity of the situation? I had never even kissed my own husband from my past life, except on the day we wed, which was just a light kiss that barely touched my lips. And now, I was supposed to ask Richard to kiss me just because our son requested it. Just yesterday, I had caught Richard in an incredibly embarrassing situation, a memory that still made my cheeks flush with humiliation. But I wanted to make my son happy, and looking at his expectant face, I didn’t want to disappoint him. So, I made a big decision at that moment. I held Tommy's hand, and together we left the kitchen and went upstairs to Richard's room. Nervously, I knocked on the door. "Who is
"Don't 'Ava' me, Richard. Where have you been? Why do you smell like alcohol?" My voice trembled as I confronted him, but he just stared back silently, his eyes distant. "Alright then," I muttered, my heart pounding. "Since you won't answer me, I'll do this my way." I grabbed his hand and led him to the bed, pushing him onto it and climbing on top of him. My breath hitched as I pressed my lips against his, trying to deepen the kiss, but he resisted. Each rejection stung, and tears threatened to spill, but I held them back. I refused to let Richard see me as weak, like my ex-husband had. Standing up, I began to undo the buttons of my nightgown, my fingers trembling. "Ava, what do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to seduce me? If so, I’m not falling for the temptation of a loose woman." he spits out his eyes bearing no emotions. His words cut deep, but I knew there was no turning back. I undid the last button and, after a few shaky breaths, let the fabric slip off my body
I woke up the next morning to a familiar, tantalizing sensation. Richard was moving rhythmically inside me, his touch igniting every nerve in my body. I opened my eyes to find him gazing down at me with an intensity that made my heart race. His eyes were dark with desire, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Morning," Richard murmured, his voice thick with sleep and desire. "Morning," I whispered back, a small smile tugging at my lips. His movements were slow and deliberate at first, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through me. I couldn't help but moan softly, the sound escaping my lips unbidden. Richard's breathing grew heavier, matching mine, and the room was filled with the mingling of our breaths and the soft rustling of sheets. As our pace quickened, my moans turned into gasps. "Faster," I urged, my voice barely a whisper. Richard responded to my plea, increasing his speed, his thrusts becoming more urgent and powerful. I became a moaning mess beneath
I had been seated in Richard's office for the past four hours and was already becoming impatient. Like who holds meetings this long? I asked out loud to no one I particular since I was the only one in the room. So in order to keep myself from being bored, I had requested different types of dishes to be served from my husband's office kitchen. It had not even been thirty minutes when the secretary knocked again to let me know the dishes were ready. And I asked her to come in. Almost immediately, she stepped in with some chefs behind her. I was hit by the savory scent of chicken wings, and I could not help but salivate as they served the dishes on my husband's table. At first, the secretary had asked me not to eat on my husband's table, suggesting the designated eating area instead. However, I wanted to prove a point because I had noticed her glaring at me ever since I entered the office with Richard and ordered the food. "But ma'am, Mr. Richard does not like it when his offi
"Richard, can you just fuck me now?" I moaned, spreading my legs apart and gently tracing my finger over my clit. The anticipation made my skin tingle, and I could see the hunger in Richard's eyes, his cock hard and ready. I wanted to drive him wild, to tease him until he couldn't take it anymore. I added another finger, sliding them inside myself, feeling the slick heat of my own arousal. My breath came in short gasps as I moved my fingers in and out, my eyes locked on Richard's. He watched me intently, his hand stroking his own length in time with my movements, his eyes dark with desire. The room was filled with our heavy breathing and the wet, rhythmic sounds of my fingers moving. My free hand moved to my breasts, pinching and tugging at my nipples, which were already sensitive and sore from Richard's earlier attentions. Each touch sent a spark of pleasure through me, making me moan softly. "Richard," I gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside me, ready to explode. Just as