There was a strong attraction between us right away – he’s gorgeous and his tall, tight body is totally my type. He even looks a little like Ryan Gosling. It was actually hard working on his leg at first because of the tension, but he picked up on it and diffused it with his charm and sense of humor.
We talked about a lot of stuff during our physio sessions, and I found out that he was 28, single, and actually went to the 2004 Olympics as a swimmer. He’s into doing triathlons now, and this attracted me to him even more, because that’s something I’m starting to think about doing.
I was hesitant, but had no choice to tell him I was married with a child. At first he came in twice a week, but it went to once a week as his leg responded to treatment. One day during a session he just asked me out. My knees went weak, but I had to turn him down. I told him I couldn’t because a) I was married and b) my clinic had strict rules about dating clients.
“Which of those is the bigger problem for you?” he replied.
I was stunned because I realized then that the client rule would probably hold me back more than my husband. I was also so turned on by Dylan’s confidence and boldness. And he didn’t let up. The next session, he asked me out again. And again the week after that. Finally, as his treatment period was coming to an end, I agreed to meet him to go running together – at least that way, there was some kind of physio-related excuse.
Maybe I was kidding myself up until that point. I rationalized it by thinking ‘you know, you don’t have to sleep with him.’
Yet the day we got together to run, I knew I was in trouble. We met on the waterfront and he was wearing running shorts and an Under Armour polo that showed off his tight, chiseled frame. I had also conveniently forgotten how horny exercise makes me. We ran close to 10k, and then stopped at a cafe for a drink. Dylan remarked how we both had great endurance. It was then when he dropped the bomb on me that the cafe we were in was on the ground floor of the building he lived in.
“How much energy do you have left?” I asked.
“A lot,” he said.
Just like that, we were upstairs in his place, tearing each others clothes off. There was no fat on him, just lean muscle. His six-pack looked even sexier with a tattoo and a belly-button ring. When his manhood sprang up from his shorts, I almost hyperventilated. It was long, thick and uncircumcised. I hadn’t gone down on a guy in a long time, but I sucked Dylan’s cock without thinking twice. I could barely get my lips around it.
He ran his hands through my hair, saying he couldn’t wait to fuck me. I’d never been as horny and wet.
We showered together and fucked one more time on the bathroom floor. It was a little awkward as Dylan drove me back to my car, but as I got out he said “I really hope we can do this again,” and kissed me. My head spun about what I had done on the drive home, but I knew we’d be doing it again.
Two days later on Sunday, my husband and son were at tee-ball and I started thinking about Dylan’s cock. I texted him to see what he was doing and he replied that he was playing soccer with some friends. I needed to see him again so he told me where he was playing and I drove there.
I parked next to the field and watched him play for a while, and got even hotter than before. He was all over the field, dominating play with his shirt off. He’s an incredible athlete, and scored two goals that I saw. Afterwards I got out of the car and he greeted me with a kiss. We went to a bar patio with some of his friends but I couldn’t stop staring at him, thinking about what we’d be doing after. We didn’t last long there and went back to his place. We fucked five times, and when I rode him I was in a state of total ecstasy as his cock impaled me.
Yes, I was feeling guilty about my husband but I just could not stop.
The following week I got horny at work and texted Dylan. “I’m hungry 4 cock,” I said. Minutes later, he texted back a photo of his big hard shaft. Less than an hour later I was back at his place. A few days after that, he invited me out at night to see his band play at a local bar. I told my husband I was working late. Seeing Dylan play guitar and sing was almost as hot as watching him play soccer.
He looked gorgeous in a tight collarless henley. When his set was done he led me downstairs to the bar office and we went at it. I felt so dirty but so turned on as he fucked me from behind over the desk and some kegs of beer. I told him to pull my hair. I’ve never felt as uninhibited as I do with Dylan.
We’ve been fucking for over a month now. His body won’t quit, and I think it’s amazing every time because we’re both in really good shape. I feel bad about my husband, but maybe I’m legitimizing it because he’s out of shape and this is my way of secretly punishing him. I don’t know, but I can’t get enough of Dylan’s cock. I’ve come more times in the past month than I did in the previous three years. I know Dylan is a player who fucks other women, but it doesn’t even bother me. In fact, it turns the dirty side of me on.