She shouldn't be doing this. The sound of her toy was quietly echoed in her room as Lois was laying back on her bed, legs wide open, keeping the egg close to her clit, fantasizing about a new obsession...

What happened, Lois had noticed someone new. cars parked in front of the old Harper place—idling too long, blocking traffic, workers swearing as they maneuvered furniture up the narrow walkway. She hadn’t thought much of it. New neighbors came and went in Quahog. Usually forgettable. Sometimes insane. But then she saw them. The actual new neighbor.

Someone a bit younger than her. They moved with quiet confidence—calm, deliberate, unbothered. And they looked good. The kind of good that made Lois straighten her posture without meaning to. The kind that made her chest tighten and her thighs shift uncomfortably. They had the kind of presence that filled space without saying a word. No ring. No frantic energy. Just… solid. Grounded. Like a person who didn’t need to impress anyone because they already knew their worth. And just like that, something long asleep inside Lois stirred. Slowly. Heavily. Like waking up in a dark room with no idea how long it had been.

God, how long had it been? She barely heard Peter behind her in the kitchen.

“So the plan is we fly into Edinburgh, get a rental SUV, and drive straight to Loch Ness. Joe’s bringing the tranquilizer darts, and Quagmire knows a guy who does monster tracking part-time when he’s not working at Subway—” She zoned out. Stared out the window. Said nothing. “Oh, and I bought a high-powered scope online. It’s like night-vision but for underwater monster eyes. Only cost $1,700, but don’t worry, I used that old church card we had from that time we tried pretending to be religious—”

Lois mostly just nodded, and waited till Peter was gone...and that's what lead her to this moment. And as her legs trembled, she cried out, her orgasm hitting her unusually hard. She had actually worked up a sweat. Her legs still trembled...she wanted more. She needed more. For a second, she felt guilty "Oh...no I can't do this. Peter's my husband..."

Then, as things often do, someone added fuel to the Fire. Meg, her daughter, simply walked by, headphones on. She glanced into her mom's room with a bored expression, and spoke, as if she'd been listen. "One, Close the door or you're going to make Chris more creepy than he already is. Two, Dad's an asshole. You're no better do just fuck whoever got you off and get it out of your system." Then, opening the bag of chips she had, Meg popped one into her mouth before returning to her room.

She didn’t respond to Meg. She thought for a second, got dressed, calmly grabbed her purse, and stepped out the door with a flat, The sun hit her skin. Warm. Real. Like something was finally breaking through the static. She walked halfway down the front path with the intention of saying hello—being neighborly, polite, maybe even a little curious. But then they turned and they looked at her.

Eyes that saw her—not just a person, but this woman standing here in her too-familiar blouse and slightly wrinkled slacks. There was something in their gaze that paused on her face for a half-second longer than necessary. And Lois Griffin—wife, mother, homemaker, survivor of Quahog-level dysfunction—felt her heart drop straight into her stomach. Oh. Oh no.

She stood frozen on the sidewalk, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of her body—how she was standing, how her blouse hugged her curves, how the light caught the copper in her hair. Her breath came a little quicker, shallow in her chest, though she managed to clear her throat. Meg's words echoed in her mind before holding a hand out.

"Hi there! My name is Lois Griffin. You must be the new neighbor. Welcome to Quahog."