Chapter 2

Standing in front of the mirror, I looked at myself. My skin was fair and smooth. I had a body with curves that turned heads. Anyone who saw me would call me a beauty.

Yet, despite my perfect appearance, my husband paid no attention. I was left to rely on myself.

I stood in front of the mirror, lifted one leg, and bit my lip. I started pleasuring myself.

When Janet had suggested that Mark find a prostitute, I wished I could just rush in and tell him not to bother looking and that he should just come to me.

I was cleaner than a prostitute. More importantly, I needed it much more than they did.

I thought, “God, what am I thinking? He’s my father-in-law.”

The more I tried to stop myself, the more those thoughts kept creeping in. Without realizing it, I even started to whisper, “Mark... ah... Mark, harder! Do it harder!”

The forbidden thrill and the madness of it all made me feel more aroused than ever. I got carried away as my hand moved faster and harder.

I did not even realize how loud my moans had become.

The bathroom door gently creaked open.

I was so horrified I felt the color drain from my face. I immediately stopped and opened my eyes. I tried to clamp my mouth shut, but a desperate moan still slipped out before I could stop it.

Our eyes locked. I wished I could just disappear right there on the spot. The person standing in the doorway was not anyone else; it was Mark.

When I saw the way Mark’s gaze darkened, I realized my nightgown was around my ankles.

I had moaned so loudly just now. He must have heard everything from outside the door. Seeing me in such an embarrassing state, even an idiot could guess what I had been doing.

I really should just die. He was my husband’s father.

He was my father-in-law.

I had just been touching myself, moaning his name, begging him to go harder on me.

He must have heard it all and figured out that I had just been getting myself off while fantasizing about him.

We lived in the same house. We would see each other every day. How was I supposed to face him after that?

He would think I was nothing but a cheap, desperate woman lusting after her own father-in-law.

Panicking, I quickly pulled my nightgown up to cover myself and hide the mess I had made.

My face turned bright red with shame. I lowered my head and said in a low voice, “Mark, I’m so sorry. You won’t think less of me, will you?”

“No,” Mark replied softly. His voice was full of concern. “But are you having problems with Gordon? Why are you…”

Thankfully, he did not mention me moaning his name. Whether he really had not heard or was pretending not to, I could not tell.

“I...”

I was stammering with my face still flushed. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on my forehead.

Just thinking of the way Gordon had looked at me, the torment of those nights, made me want to just spill everything and ask Mark for help.

However, no matter how badly I wanted to tell him, the words would not come.

“Tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”

He walked closer and gently patted my shoulder. He looked at me with such warmth and told me not to be afraid.

His steady, mature presence and reassuring calm suddenly gave me the courage I had been lacking.

Finally, I lowered my head in embarrassment. My face was burning as I spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, stammering as I confessed my shameful problem to him.

He seemed a little surprised. He said the birthing muscles had a strong ability to contract. Usually, even after a tear and stitches, it could recover.

He said what I was describing was extremely rare.

“Here’s what we’ll do. Let me take a look and see exactly what’s going on.”

I blinked, thinking I had misunderstood him.

I had mustered the courage to share my condition with him under his encouragement, but to show him down there was a line I could not cross.

Noticing my hesitation, he reassured me with patience.

“It’s completely normal to feel embarrassed. I know I’m a man, and I’m Gordon’s father, but I’m a doctor, a gynecologist. I’ve seen all sorts of women’s bodies, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”

When I still hesitated, he added, “Look, since you’re feeling shy about it, I’ll help you.”

Before I could protest, he lifted me and sat me on the sink.

Before I even had time to react, he had already pulled my skirt up with a swift motion.

I realized that my panties were long gone. At that moment, I was completely exposed, without any cover.