Chapter 4: Birkin Bag

Today's the day I was finally released.

'Sweet freedom. No more boredom. No more weird-ass hospital TV with their weird-ass shows about weird guys doing girly stuff.'

Claire pulls into the driveway of an unfamiliar house, the tires crunching softly on the gravel. I peer out the window, taking in the quaint ranch-style home before us. It's not huge, but it has a certain charm to it, white siding with navy blue shutters, a small covered porch with a swing gently swaying in the breeze. The lawn is neatly manicured, with colorful flower beds lining the front of the house.

"I can't believe we live in Revere," I say a hint of disbelief in my voice.

Claire laughs as she unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door. "That's what you used to say, too," she replies, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips.

I laugh for a moment. Before I can reach for the door handle, Claire is there, opening the passenger side door for me. I blink in surprise, caught off guard by the gesture.

"You didn't have to do that," I say, feeling a bit awkward as I step out of the car.

Claire's eyes twinkle with amusement. "What, was chivalry dead in your coma dream?" she chuckles, her voice light and teasing.

I laugh, assuming she's being sarcastic. "Yeah, I guess so," I reply, playing along.

We make our way up the short path to the front door. Claire fumbles with her keys for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open. The hinges creak slightly as we step inside.

The interior is cozy and lived-in. The walls are painted a soft beige, adorned with framed photos and artwork. To the left, I can see a small living room with a plush couch and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. To the right, there's a dining area with a round wooden table and mismatched chairs. Straight ahead, a narrow hallway leads deeper into the house.

I stretch my arms over my head, feeling my muscles protest after days of inactivity. "I cannot fucking wait to take a shower in a home," I groan, relishing the thought of hot water and privacy.

Claire walks next to me. "To be honest, the shower in the hospital was probably nicer," she says with a wry smile.

I shake my head. "But it's like a hotel shower, you know? I don't know how many people have used it."

Claire nods, her eyes lighting up with understanding. "True," she says, coming up close to me. There's a hesitancy in her movements like she's not quite sure how to act around me. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt, her eyes darting around nervously.

I smile, trying to put her at ease. "What's up?"

"Uhh..." Claire starts her voice barely above a whisper. She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself. "We actually usually shower together."

The words tumble out in a rush, and she immediately looks away, her cheeks flushing pink. There's something off about her tone, a slight quaver that makes me wonder if she's being entirely truthful.

I feel heat rising to my own cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through me. "Is that something you'd want to do?" I ask, my voice coming out huskier than I intended.

Claire's head snaps up, her eyes wide with surprise. She seems taken aback by my willingness as if she hadn't expected me to agree so readily. After a moment of stunned silence, she nods emphatically, a smile spreading across her face.

"We're married, so it's normal, right?" I say with a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

Claire's eyes widen slightly, and she lets out a laugh that sounds just a bit forced. "Of course it is," she says, but there's an odd note in her voice as if the idea is somehow novel or surprising to her.

"Hey, let me shower alone for five minutes, okay?" I say, running a hand through my greasy hair. "I just want to wash the smell of the hospital off first."

"Yes! Of course!" she exclaims, her voice pitched higher than usual. "Take all the time you need! I'll just... Uhhh… Just call for me whenever you want!"

She's practically vibrating with energy, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. It's as if she's afraid that if she says the wrong thing or moves too suddenly, I'll take back my offer to shower together afterward.

I blink, taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Uh, okay," I say slowly. "I'll just be a few minutes then."

As I head towards the bathroom, I can feel Claire's eyes following me, her gaze almost physical in its intensity. I glance back over my shoulder to see her still standing in the same spot, watching me with an expression of mingled hope and anxiety.

I strip off my clothes, feeling a sense of relief as I shed the last remnants of the hospital. The bathroom is small but clean, with pale blue tiles and a frosted glass shower door. As I step into the shower and turn on the water, I let out a contented sigh. The hot spray hits my skin, and I can almost feel the tension of the past weeks washing away.

I close my eyes, tilting my face up into the stream. The water cascades over me, enveloping me in its warmth. It's like a baptism, cleansing me of my old life and welcoming me into this new one. For the first time since waking up in the hospital, I feel truly present in my body, grounded in this reality.

As I lather up with soap, my mind wanders to Claire. I picture her waiting just outside, perhaps pacing nervously or fidgeting with anticipation. The thought sends a jolt of excitement through me, and I feel myself starting to get hard.

I glance down at my erection, a mix of guilt and arousal swirling in my gut. Part of me feels like I'm betraying the other Adam, the one whose life I've stepped into. But another part argues that this is my life now, my wife. I have a responsibility to her, to us, to at least try to make this work.

As I rinse off the soap, I make a decision. I'm going to embrace this new life, this new me. Claire deserves a husband who will give their relationship a real chance. And who knows? Maybe I'll grow to love her as much as the other Adam did.

'We will have to talk about the money she owes Jessica, but that doesn't have to be today.'

I take a deep breath. "Claire?" I call out, my voice echoing slightly in the bathroom. "I'm ready if you are."

"Coming!" Claire's voice calls back, a mix of excitement and nervousness evident in her tone.

The bathroom door creaks open slowly. Claire steps in, her body completely bare. She's petite and lithe, with small breasts and delicate curves. Her skin is pale and smooth, dotted with a few freckles here and there. Short chestnut hair frames her face, accentuating her warm brown eyes.

She's not exactly my usual type, but there's an undeniable cuteness to her. Her body may be slight, but it's toned and graceful. As she joins me in the shower, I can see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks and chest.

Claire's eyes roam over my body, drinking in every detail. Her gaze lingers on my chest before traveling lower, finally stopping at my erect cock. A smile spreads across her face, her eyes lighting up with pleasure and a hint of pride.

"You're so hard for me," she says softly, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

I feel heat rising to my cheeks. "I guess my body is anticipating you," I reply with a nervous chuckle.

Claire's eyes flash with sudden intensity. Before I can react, she lunges forward, pressing her body against mine and pushing me back against the cool tile wall. Water cascades over us as she turns around, her back to my chest.

"Whoa," I gasped, caught off guard by her boldness.

Claire reaches between her legs, grasping my cock and guiding it to her entrance. The head of my shaft brushes against her slick folds.

"Oh shit, do we need a condom?" I ask hurriedly.

Claire glances over her shoulder, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "No, we're married, honey," she purrs.

"I didn't know if you were ovulating or..."

Before I can finish, Claire pushes back, impaling herself on my length in one swift motion. I let out a strangled moan as her heat envelops me.

"I'm on the pill," Claire says with a breathy laugh. She starts to move, rocking her hips back and forth.

As Claire moves back and forth, I grab her hips and start thrusting myself. Her eyes widen in surprise as she moans and says, "You're not usually this eager."

I pause, uncertain. "Do you want me to slow down?"

She smiles and speeds herself up. "No," she breathes.

I kiss her neck as we move together under the warm spray of the shower. The bathroom fills with the sounds of our lovemaking, skin sliding against skin, breathless moans, the steady patter of water.

Claire's body trembles against mine. "Fuck," she gasps, her inner walls clenching around me as she starts to climax. I make sure to hold her firmly so she doesn't slip on the wet tile.

Watching her come undone throws me over the edge. With a guttural groan, I bury myself deep inside her as the bliss of blowing my load into this lithe body embraces me. We cling to each other, shuddering through the aftershocks.

As our breathing slowly returns to normal, Claire turns in my arms and kisses me deeply. When we finally break apart, she looks up at me with wonder in her eyes.

"That was amazing," she whispers.

'But we were both such quick shots.' I think to myself, embarrassed with my overall performance. 'But it's nice it was both of us.'

As Claire presses against me, her eyes widen in surprise as she feels my dick hardening all over again. "Oh," she breathes, a hint of excitement in her voice. "You're still...?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," I reply.

Claire's lips curve into a sultry smile. She runs her hands down my chest, her touch feather-light and teasing. "Do you want to take this to the bedroom?" she purrs, her voice low and inviting.

I swallow hard, my heart racing. "I'd love to."

Claire's eyes light up with excitement. She quickly rinses off and steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel. I follow suit, my eyes roaming over her body form as she dries herself off.

*****

I'm laying in Claire's arms, her soft breath tickling my neck as she dozes. The sex was incredible, intense, passionate, and surprisingly kinky. Claire took charge in a way I never expected, pinning me down and riding me with wild abandon. It was like something straight out of one of those femdom stories I loved to read online.

'How do I get her to rape me though?' I wonder into the abyss.

As amazing as it felt in the moment, now I'm left feeling confused. Is she really cool with me being in her arms. Like this is a vibe and a half but is this what she wants?

'She chose it. She led.' I posit to myself.

The doorbell rings, its shrill chime shattering the peaceful silence. Claire flutters awake, her eyelashes brushing against my neck as she blinks sleepily.

"Hmm, who's that?" she mumbles, her voice thick with drowsiness.

We reluctantly disentangle ourselves from each other's embrace. Claire slides out of bed, the sheets whispering against her skin as she moves. She grabs a simple shirt and pants from the closet.

I throw on just my pants, not bothering with a shirt. As I'm about to head for the door, Claire's hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist in a panic. Her fingers are like a vice, digging into my skin with surprising strength.

"You can't get the door like that!" she hisses, her eyes wide with alarm.

I stare at her, confusion furrowing my brow. "Like what?"

Claire's gaze darts nervously between my bare chest and the bedroom door. "With your shirt off," she explains, her voice strained and urgent.

I blink, utterly baffled by her reaction. It seems like such a strange thing to be worried about. But the fear in her eyes is real, almost palpable.

"Okay, sure," I say slowly, deciding it's easier to just go along with her wishes than to argue. I rummage through a nearby drawer, finding a plain white t-shirt and pulling it over my head.

Claire visibly relaxes as soon as I'm fully clothed, the tension draining from her shoulders. She gives me a quick, grateful smile before hurrying towards the front door.

I follow Claire down the hallway, my bare feet padding softly on the cool hardwood floor.

'Fuck I gotta get socks pronto.'

Claire reaches for the doorknob, her hand hesitating for just a moment before turning it. The door swings open, revealing a striking woman standing on our porch. She has short black hair, and she's wearing a white tailored suit that screams power and money.

The woman is holding a large shopping bag, the kind you'd get from a high-end boutique. It's made of thick, glossy paper with rope handles, and I can see the edges of tissue paper peeking out from the top.

Claire's reaction is immediate and visceral. All the color drains from her face, leaving her looking pale and sickly. Her eyes widen in shock, and I can see her throat working as she swallows hard.

"Maddy?" Claire gasps. "I thought... I thought I had more time."

Maddy raises an eyebrow, her expression full of concern. "No, no," she says, her voice smooth and controlled. "I'm not here for any of that."

Claire's shoulders sag with relief, but there's still tension in her stance, like a cornered animal ready to bolt at any moment.

Maddy's gaze shifts to me, her green eyes assessing me with cool detachment. "The boss sent me over to give your husband these two things," she explains, reaching into the shopping bag.

With a flourish, she pulls out a sleek, brand-new iPhone. It's the latest model. God only knows how much it's worth. She hands it to me.

"It's all set up and good to go." She says.

I look over to Claire, my brow furrowed in concern. "I don't think I can accept this," I say to Maddy, holding the iPhone gingerly as if it might bite me.

Claire has a look of resignation on her face. "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" I ask, searching her eyes for any hint of what she's really feeling.

She nods, a sadness creeping into her expression. "Yeah," she says softly, not quite meeting my gaze.

Maddy reaches back into the shopping bag, pulling out what looks like a purse. It looks a little expensive, but I'd never know.

'Oh, that's nice. Caterina must have gotten Claire a purse.'

Claire's eyes widen as she stares at the bag, her mouth falling open slightly.

'Oh, it must be a nice one.'

Maddy holds the bag out to me. "The boss wanted you to have a Birkin bag," she says with a confident ease.

I blink in confusion. "A purse?" I ask, taking the bag from her. It's heavier than I expected.

"Yeah," Maddy confirms with a nod.

"For me?" I ask.

"Yeah," Maddy nods again with a smile.

"Um, thank you," I say to Maddy, feeling incredibly awkward. "Please tell your boss we appreciate the gifts."

Maddy nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Will do," she says. "Take care, you two." With that, she turns and walks back to her car, a sleek black sedan parked at the curb.

As soon as Maddy's car pulls away, Claire shuts the door, leaning against it as if she needs the support to stay upright. She's trembling slightly, her eyes fixed on the Birkin bag in my hands.

"Claire?" I ask gently, concerned by her reaction. "Are you okay?"

Claire's eyes widen in disbelief, her mouth falling open. "Aren't you happy?" she asks, her tone tinged with annoyance.

I glance down at the iPhone in my hand, then back up at Claire. "For the phone? I guess," I say with a shrug. "It's nice, but I feel a bit weird accepting such an expensive gift from your boss."

Claire's brow furrows, her eyes narrowing. "What? No, the Birkin bag!" she exclaims, gesturing wildly at the purse in my other hand.

I look at the bag, then back at Claire, confusion etched across my face. "The purse? Uhh... I don't want it," I say hesitantly. "It would suit you a lot more."

Claire's jaw drops, her eyes bulging in shock. "What?" she sputters, her voice rising in pitch. "Why would I want a purse?"

Now, it's my turn to be confused. I stare at her, baffled by her reaction. "You don't like purses?" I ask slowly, trying to make sense of the situation.

Claire throws her hands up in exasperation. "I'm a woman! Why would I like purses?" she snaps, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I blink rapidly, feeling like I've stepped into some bizarre alternate reality. "What?"

"What?" Claire echoes, her tone equally bewildered.

We stand there for a moment, staring at each other in mutual confusion. The silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable. Finally, I break it, gesturing at the bag in my hand.

"Is this bag special or something?" I ask tentatively.

Claire's eyes narrow, her expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "It's a Birkin bag," she says slowly as if explaining something to a child.

I tilt my head, still not understanding. "What's a Birkin bag?" I ask.

Claire's mouth falls open again, her eyes wide with shock. She stares at me for a long moment, her expression a kaleidoscope of emotions, disbelief, frustration, and something that looks almost like fear.

"You... you don't know what a Birkin bag is?" she says, seemingly feeling better.

"I don't like purses," I say, lost in the sauce.

"Huh? No, you love purses." She speaks as though I claimed 9/11 was done by George Bush.

"Nah." I retort.

We sit in silence for a while. I decide to just shoot my shot because we've already done it a bunch.

"Do you want to go fuck again?" I ask while praying to based god in my mind palace.

Claire eagerly grabs my wrist and leads me to the bedroom.

"Obviously."