Babysitter, Wifed

Story Excerpt

She showed up at my door in tiny shorts and a lace bra, asking if I was okay, but she already knew the answer. My wife had left me raw and bitter, and Emily, the nineteen-year-old babysitter we never hired, decided that made me hers. She wasn’t here to comfort me. She was here to replace her. Emily cooked dinner, sat on my lap, and pressed every button I didn’t know I had left. She teased me with soft skin and bratty glances, but when she whispered “I want to stay,” she meant it. Now she’s in my bed. Wearing nothing but my wife’s apron. Begging for more. She says she wants to be the new woman of the house, and I believe her. Because once I take her, fill her, and claim every inch, she won’t just act like my wife. She’ll be my wife. For good.