The Man Behind the Mask

Ever since I got pregnant, my husband hadn’t touched me. However, to my embarrassment, my body had only grown more sensitive.

Every night, I would find myself craving for touch, unable to stop my mind from wandering to all kinds of fantasies, that was until the night a masked man broke into my home.

It was late at night, and the neighborhood was so quiet that I could hear the distant meows of stray cats. I lay alone in bed, clutching the thin blanket between my legs, shifting restlessly.

Despite the cool air from the air conditioning, my body burned with heat, and the blanket offered little relief. I let out a few frustrated groans, unable to endure the discomfort any longer.

Eventually, I made up my mind and reached for the drawer of my nightstand, pulling out a toy I had recently purchased. Even though I was alone at home, my cheeks flushed as I opened the packaging.

I hesitated briefly before switching it on, following the instructions that came with it. The gentle hum filled the room, soon accompanied by the sound of my quickening breath.

The rave reviews I read online weren’t exaggerating. The intense relief that swept through my body and the warmth spreading across my face were proof enough.

It had been five long months since I’d felt anything like that. The tension drained from my limbs, leaving me lying there, basking in the afterglow.

As I lay there, my mind wandered back to the last time I had real, physical contact. That was four months ago when my husband had come home drunk after a night out.

By then, we had started fighting constantly and sleeping in separate rooms. However, that night, he mistook me for someone else and was unusually passionate. I figured it was a chance to reconcile, so I did not resist.

That night, I got pregnant.

My name is Elizabeth Crane. I married my husband, Mark Russell, a year ago, after being set up on a blind date. For the first two months, things were great, but then it all started falling apart. I thought getting pregnant would be the turning point in our relationship, but instead, it marked the end of our marriage.

As soon as I found out I was pregnant, Mark moved out and told me to get an abortion. He said he wanted a divorce. I knew he was cheating, but I never expected him to be so cold-hearted, abandoning both his wife and child for some other woman.

I’m not one to cling to a man who doesn’t want me, so I agreed to the divorce. However, I refused to get rid of the baby. Luckily, I had savings from my previous job as an executive, so I quit my job and focused on taking care of myself and the baby.

What I didn’t expect was how much my body would change during the pregnancy. I had always been indifferent to intimacy before, but now,