It was still dark at five in the morning when I got out of bed. Carter didn’t stir at all, which made me smile as I slowly walked downstairs and out into the cold morning air.

I didn’t want to leave France. I loved it there, and I was evening starting to learn the language. At first, it was pretty hard trying to fit in with the locals. But that quickly got easier as me and Carter began to build our life.

I could hear the ocean as the wind shifted direction toward me. I smiled, thinking about how Caleb was going to be awake soon. I liked to get up early in the morning, before everyone else got out of bed. I didn’t need to, but I really enjoyed those special hours all to myself.

I headed over toward the chicken coop, still smiling to myself. Carter has been working remotely and we’re not hurting at all for money. I’ve been helping out at the local school, teaching some English courses, and although the money isn’t all that great, it has taught me how to be more French. That was helping so much in getting me and Carter more acclimated to our new life.

We didn’t talk about moving back to the States. We used to at first, but after Caleb arrived, it just slowly slipped from our minds until we began to simply see this place as our home.

I stopped outside of the chicken coop and frowned slightly. In the last few months, I really took to the chickens. They were Carter’s burden at first, but now I take care of them, feed them, let them out of the coop to run around during the day, all that good stuff.

But that morning, something was different. I stood there staring at the coop. There were more feathers on the ground than usual, and the hinge on the coop’s door was slightly ajar.

My heart started beating faster. I didn’t now why, but something deep down inside of me warned about danger. Maybe there’s still some vestigial remnants of our old instincts, the sort of feelings that humans relied on over thousands of years and taught them how to react even before they were conscious of why they were reacting. People with this sixth sense survived and those without it didn’t, and now we all have it deep down inside.

I took a few steps forward then grabbed the handle to the coop. I pulled it open, heart beating faster, then stumbled backwards. I choked back the scream on my lips.

Inside, the chickens were all dead. They looked like they were torn to shreds. Blood and guts and feathers and pieces of the chickens were scattered all over the coop. It was a slaughter, whatever happened, and they were all dead.

I kicked the door shut then turned and ran back into the house. The image of that coop and all the dead chickens kept playing in my mind as I ran upstairs and burst back into our bedroom.

“Carter,” I say. “Carter, wake up.”

Carter stirred, my beautiful husband. He sat up on one arm and looked at me. “What time is it?” he asks hoarsely, still clearly just waking up.

“The chickens,” I said. “They’re dead, Carter. They’re torn to pieces.”

That woke him up. “Are you okay?” he asked me quickly.

“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m fine. But the chickens. Carter, what would do that?”

He frowned then got out of bed and came over to me. He grabbed me and pulled me tight, crushing me against his chest. The memory of the slaughtered chickens slowly faded away, replaced only by Carter’s body against mine, his smell triggering all of the happy memories I always have when he’s around.

I could feel myself shaking, but I didn’t understand why. “It was awful,” I said stupidly, trying to explain myself.

“It’s okay now,” he answered. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What do you think it was?”

“A fox,” he said. “Maybe more than one, but probably just one. They do this sort of thing all the time. I’ve heard our neighbors talking about them.”

“Really?” I asked him. Our neighbors were Jean-Michel and Jacqueline, two very French farmers who were actually richer than we were.

“Really,” he confirmed. “Just a few weeks ago a fox got a couple of their hens before they chased him off.”

“A fox,” I said, a little stupidly.

He pulled back and smiled at me. “It’s okay. I promise. We’ll catch him.”

I looked up at him and in that moment I was overwhelmed by the need to kiss him. I needed to feel something good, something comforting, and Carter could always comfort me in one very good way.

He seemed to read my mind, because his lips pressed against mine just a moment later. I kissed him full and deep, letting his hands roam my body, and I was dripping wet in absolutely no time.

That’s what he did to me. Carter could make me feel absolutely anything he wanted, just by touching my skin. He drove me absolutely wild, and I couldn’t have been happier as his hands slipped underneath my jeans and found my wet pussy, ready for him.

Pleasure rolled over me as he rubbed my clip in slow, maddening circles. He knew exactly what to do to me, how to make me feel good, how to press my buttons. Carter knew me so well that he could practically feel everything that I felt.

My tongue slipped into his mouth as his fingers slipped inside of my pussy. I let out a little gasp and a moan as he pushed me toward the bed, shoving me down onto the comforters. I laughed and look up at him as he dropped to his knees and grabbed the waist of my jeans, tugging them down over my hips and my ass.

His tongue felt so fucking good as it licked up my skin and found my soaking clit. He sucked and licked my clit, rolling around its swollen edges, tongue and teeth and lips all working to make me feel incredible.

“I fucking love your taste,” he said. “I can’t get enough of it, you know that? Even after all this time.”

“I can’t get enough of this too,” I gasped, smiling. Moans escaped my lips, and I was unable to even stop them a little bit.

“Better be quiet,” he grunted. “If you wake up Caleb, the fun will be over.”

“I wouldn’t want to do that,” I said, biting my lip.

“That’s my girl. Now, what do you want from Daddy?”

“You know what I was.”

He slid two fingers deep inside of me, smiling slightly. “Are you sure I know?”

“Yes, you know.” I gasped as he slides them in and out, smirking at me.

“Go ahed, tell me.”

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

He stood up and I watched as he took off the shorts he was wearing. He grabbed my hips and pulled me tot he edge of the bed before slowly sliding his cock deep inside of me.

I gasped, tossing my head back. Every time he pressed himself deep inside of me, it felt like coming home. His cock is so big and thick, but I’m used to him, and now he fits me like a key. He opened me, tore me apart, and I loved every single second of it.

He began to fuck me deep and slow. He leaned forward and grabbed my hair, pulling my head toward him, kissing me deep on the mouth. Pleasured bloomed deep inside of me as he worked into me.

He grabbed my shirt and pulled it up over my head, revealing my round breasts and perky nipples. It was a little cold in our room, but I could already feel a heat spreading through me as he teased my breasts and nipples.

“I love tasting you,” he whispered as he began to thrust harder. “I love fucking this tight little pussy. You know that, girl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I moaned. “I love it too.”

He put his hand over my mouth. “Too loud,” he said softly and then thrust hard inside of me. I gasped into his palm, muffling the noise, as he began to fuck me faster.

I took his thick cock, moving my hips, letting him rock inside of me. I loved it, needing more.

Suddenly, he slid out and grabbed my hips, turning me. He put me onto the bed, ass up in the air, and pushed my face down into the comforter before taking my hips and sliding himself inside of me. I spread my legs wider for him, wanting every bit of his long cock.

“God damn I love this pussy,” he said. “Wet and fucking tight. I can’t get enough. I love fucking your little cunt from behind, destroying you, dominating you. I’m your fucking Daddy.” He began to fuck me harder, fucking me loudly, probably too loudly. But neither of us were thinking about Caleb anymore.

I just wanted him to fuck me. I needed to feel good. I could feel my orgasm building and coming closer, and I knew he was close himself. I could tell by his grunts. I knew him so well.

As he began to wreck me, destroying my tight pussy, suddenly the image of the chicken coop came back to me. But in that moment, instead of being a horrible image, it made me think of something else. It made me suddenly need something so badly that I realized it was the right thing to do.

I pull forward suddenly. “Wait,” I said to him. “Wait.” I turned around and spread my legs, pulling him closer. “I want another baby.”

He stared at me for a second. “Really?” he asked.

“Really. I’m ready.”

He smirked at me. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” He pressed himself inside of me again, pushing me back down on the bed. “You know I want a big family.”

“Fuck, I’m ready,” I moaned.

I don’t know why the image of the chicken coop mode me want another baby, but it did. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been toying with the idea lately, but now just felt like the moment.

Carter fucked me faster, deeper, slamming into me. I began to writhe my hips, rolling my clit against him, needing it so badly. I was so close I could barely think. He grabbed my hair and pulled it toward him, making me gasp.

“I’m going to come in this pretty pussy,” he said. “And then I’m going to put a fucking baby in you, girl.”

“Please Daddy,” I moaned. “Do it. Come inside of me.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. Our bodies birthed and worked together, sweating despite the cool morning air.

I came just a moment before he did. I could feel him come inside of me as my orgasm peaked, both of us moaning and fucking hard, pushing into that perfect moment of bliss. He came hard inside of me, and just as he finished, I collapsed back onto the bed. For some reason, I just knew the truth, right after he came. I knew that I was pregnant.

I couldn’t explain it. I don’t know how I knew. Probably the same way that I knew there was something bad in the chicken coop before looking inside of it. But as we cuddled and kissed and told each other I love you, enjoying the brief moments before Caleb woke up, I knew I was going to have another baby.

Carter set out traps later that day. And two days later, we caught the fox. One month exactly after we caught the fox, I took a pregnancy test, and it came back positive.

We replaced the chickens eventually. We wanted to make sure there were no more sneaky foxes in the area. Our neighbors caught another fox, and that was when we decided it was safe. We bought the chickens and by the time I gave birth to our daughter Melanie, we were eating fresh eggs.

The image of the dead chickens in the coop that morning never left me. I don’t know why. But they didn’t matter, not after that morning with Carter. He had that power over me. He could make anything better. And Melanie came into the world, perfect and amazing, and that only made the chicken coop that much better.

Our home got a little more full after that. Two kids, chickens, and eventually a dog. France didn’t seem like home at first, but soon enough it was. I had Carter and that was all that mattered. Carter and my babies would always make me happy, no matter what. I wasn’t going anywhere. I don’t care how many foxes are out there, trying to get our chickens.

I’d always be happy with my family.