Vicky, a rather horny pregnant lady.

Seeing someone stumble, Vicky quickly erases the rule. Burns on boobs would fucking suck. Under her gaze, the rather ugly polo shirts cover those nice breasts, no one doubting a thing. "My Fuck. This is real" Vicky mutters. Tightly clutching the Rulebook, Vicky struggles to calm down.

Logically, she could do so much with this thing. End wars, cancer, and protect the environment. Instead of that, all Vicky could think was. It's been 5 months since Mason found out we are pregnant, and I haven't been laid since. Despite her OB-GYN assuring both of them that sex was fine, Mason avoided sex like the plague. It was almost funny how many excuses he could find. Headaches, muscle strain, a runny nose, laundry that needed folding, paperwork that needed finished right away, and other misc. tasks. On the bright side, once she caught on, a do to list tapped up on the mirror in their bedroom ensured that Mason never gave her a chance to lift her fingers. Any hint she wanted some intimate time sent him scrambling for a chore.

Maybe after their child was born, she'd think it was funny. Right now, she resisted the urge to tie him up, and fuck him to ****. Pregnancy hormones were no joke, and despite looking forward to her baby, this was driving her psycho!

I've got to change something!

Vicky chews on the pencil. How to phrase this right. Since this book was her ticket to a good sex life, Vicky didn't want it disappearing or falling into someone else's hands.

'Old Rule: The one who wrote this rule is the eternal owner of the Rulebook'

'Old Rule: Besides the owner of the Rulebook, and those she shows it to, No can see or touch the Rulebook.'

'Old Rule: The Rulebook is always within 2 ft of the owner of the Rulebook'