THE LAST WOMAN AT THE BLUEBIRD' S HOUSE

My name was Natalie Horne, a recently-married young woman with a high libido. Despite my innocent-looking face, I had a figure way hotter than young supermodels.

My 36E figure and alluring curves were my husband, Peter Clarke's, favorite indulgence—he could never keep his hands off me at night.

Unfortunately, a traffic accident left Peter blind and an invalid, and he was practically useless in bed now. Not only did he struggle to get hard, but even if he could get it up, he only lasted a few seconds.

Sometimes, he couldn't even get it in.

As time passed, I no longer expected anything from him at all. With nowhere to release my pent-up desires, I had no choice but to secretly rely on the toys I purchased online.

Peter could also sense my growing indifference toward him, but he simply assumed I was just too tired out from caring for him. Thus, he suggested that we get his father, a farmer from the countryside, to come over and share the burden with me.

The next afternoon, my father-in-law, Anthony Clarke, arrived by public transport. He showed up in a white shirt and a straw hat, looking every bit like a hardworking farmer from the countryside.

He had an innocent and honest face, but his body told a different story. His arms were thick and muscular, his tanned skin radiating masculinity.

Despite his loose pants, there was no hiding the massive package he had underneath.

Just looking at him made me blush. It wasn't until Peter called out to me that I snapped back to my senses.

I prepared a feast for Anthony for dinner. He said he enjoyed every bit of it, and he thanked me for staying by his son's side and for being a good daughter-in-law.

After dinner, I went to help Peter wash up and tuck him into bed. When I returned to the dining area, I realized that Anthony had not only cleared the entire dining table, but he had even done all the dishes.

Surprised by his kindness, I felt a surge of warmth in my heart. So, I decided to make a cup of hot tea for him as a gesture of gratitude.

However, when I brought the tea back out, I saw him entering the bathroom. Panic washed over me instantly. But before I could call out to him to stop him, he had already locked the door behind him.

My face flushed red with embarrassment immediately. It was all over for me now. I was certain he'd seen everything.

I was the kind of woman who needed to be satisfied every night. Yet, Peter couldn't provide that to me. To find my release, I had stocked up on an arsenal of toys—everything from high-speed power thrusters to electric vibrators and dildos.

Because Peter was blind, I didn't have to be discreet. I simply displayed everything in this bathroom, turning it into my personal pleasure playground.

I had even lined the walls with dozens of dildos of various sizes, intentionally positioned according to my own height. All I needed to do was to lean into them in order to enjoy them.

There was a bathroom attached to Anthony's room, so I had assumed he wouldn't enter this particular one.

He must have seen everything by now. This was utterly embarrassing indeed.

I stood at the door, mortified. There was still no sound of running water, even after all this time. He was probably inspecting each one of those toys carefully.

Would he whip his own out and compare his size with them? The more I wondered, the more my imagination ran wild.

I waited a long while before Anthony finally emerged from the bathroom. Based on the awkward expression on his face, I was sure he had seen them.

My face flushed completely red in embarrassment as I lowered my head and whispered, "Dad, w-would that make you think l-less of me?"

"Of course not."

Anthony stole a glance behind him, then continued, "Still, toys couldn't possibly be as fun as the real thing. Plus, it wouldn't be good for you to use these toys in the long run.

"I actually learned some massage techniques before I came here. They're supposed to be very effective for strengthening one's performance."

I was shocked. Even though I already knew that he was a rugged, plain-spoken farmer, I never expected him to discuss such things with me so directly.

But as I thought back on those lonely, grueling nights, I found myself flushing as I gave him my consent.