Chapter Text
John got home later than usual that night. The semester had just begun and he was TAing for Dr. Ramirez, who primarily taught evening classes. This was John’s final year of his doctorate and he hoped to one day be standing behind the professor’s lectern.
As he let himself into their condo, John couldn’t help but notice how quiet and dark everything was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come home to a dark house, certainly not since marrying Hedy. She always had music playing or a tv show blaring.
Wandering upstairs, John quickly found his wife and took in what had become of her. She was fast asleep in their bed, not even tucked under the covers like usual. Firstly, he noticed she was dressed only in a pair of socks, and, secondly, he noticed her boobs were huge. At least the size of cantaloupes. He wondered if this was typical of pregnant wives and if she was asleep because her body used all its energy making her tiny tits into a proper rack.
Pondering this, and pondering what those big, juicy tits would look like once she was full term, John struggled to look away. On her nightstand were a few full jars of milk, assorted lotions, and the flashing light of a chic looking breast pump. It was much nicer than anything Hedy would ever buy for herself.
The Hedy who John met was a bit more of a slob than he cared to admit. When she’d gone to college, she dressed casually in sweatpants and leggings for most classes. Her hair was always messy and tied up, no matter how many times John complimented how beautiful it looked curly and natural. John loved her, of course, but often worried her modest sense of fashion originated from her having a flat-chest. Girls like Hedy internalized all sorts of things about their bodies from an early age and Hedy was a prime example of a feminist who overcompensated for a lack of something essential.
John shook his head and winced, he was in the foulest mood all of a sudden. It had to do with that new pump and Hedy’s negligence of her wifely duties, he decided. The couple had an argument about pumps a couple weeks prior when Hedy questioned his ability to provide by opting to accept hand-me-downs from her sister.
A crib, stroller, toys, baby clothes, and Hedy’s first breast pump were all been passed down. John didn’t even need his doctoral allowance, his trust fund was sizable enough to support as many little bastards his wife begged to have.
Hedy was still living with that broke scholarship student mentality. It was annoying as hell, especially considering she’d won her gender’s version of the lottery by falling pregnant with John’s heir. Fuck, John thought, he’d won something too to now have pussy on tap for life. Hedy was only getting hotter the more preggers she got and John would soon have his own MILF to take out his academic woes on.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek and treated himself to a squeeze of his wife’s exposed boob. Usually, he could cover one of her tits with the palm of his hand. But not anymore. Her jugs overflowed his cup and John quietly wished he’d knocked the sleeping woman up sooner. Maybe the new pump had helped her milk come in more.
John quietly gathered the loose packaging from the floor and left his wife to sleep. He went to the living room and dialed his mother.
“Johnny?” John’s mother was suitably named Karen. She and Hedy got along worse than cats and water, especially since Karen found out that little slut wasn’t working, taking classes, or even paying rent on John’s condo since becoming Mrs. Moore.
Mother and son chatted about nothing of note while John began sorting through the paperwork for the breast pump. He wanted to look up the brand and find out what a machine like that cost. Yet, as he flipped through unbranded pages of an instruction sheet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Hedy’s unnatural tit growth. If they’d been that big this morning, or even half the size, John would have made up an excuse to stay home and give his woman some extra attention.
“Hey, Ma,” John stopped. “Hedy’s boo- her breasts, Ma, they’ve about tripled in size since this morning.”
“She’s got to pump more, the poor thing is obviously neglecting it.”
“I’ll tell her. She got a new pump today.”
“Have you looked at those doulas Isabelle emailed over information for?” Isabelle was Karen’s personal assistant.
“Yes, thank you.” He opened an unmarked envelope mixed in with the paperwork. It was a simple congratulatory card, featuring a tree with a dozen or more pink and blue balloons tied to the branches.
Karen continued on about doulas and midwives, but John lost the last of his focus when he saw who the card was from.
“Ma, I’ve got to go. Love you.” He ended the call before she could fully reply and tossed his phone to the side.
All that mattered was the note with that awful, familiar signature:
Darling Hedy,
May your brains flood your bosoms and give brilliance to your husband’s sons. Cheers to your duel MA and MRS.
~ Prof Smith
John was fucked. His old boss somehow knew he’d knocked up a former student and married her to minimize his shame. Somehow, recognizing that he’d married Hedy to minimize shame made it all the more shameful. He did love her, really.
If John even considered how strange the note inside the card was, he didn’t show it. He couldn’t recognize anything beyond the embarrassment of his old boss buying his wife a breast pump. What sorta funny business was Smith trying? Was he going to spread rumors about John’s personal life? Did Smith think Hedy should be ashamed to carry the next generation of Moore heirs?
Frustrated, John sulked. He made himself dinner and tried to pretend he wasn’t annoyed Hedy failed to prepare dinner. She was still sleeping when John put himself to bed, though she woke before he turned the lamp out.
“I feel foggy,” Hedy moaned.
”Let’s just go to bed.”