Catie and Her Physical Therapist

It was nice to have a connection with someone. That's what it was about. Sure, finally being adored was nice but I think the underlying stuff was more important.

He was my physical therapist for about 2 months before any type of real relationship started. I injured my foot while "trying" to run and Garrett was my assigned physical therapist. I didn't really find him attractive at first either. He was just a dude, a dude dad, as they say. Around my age, 40, he was well-built but nothing crazy, with a decent head of hair that was always combed with a flip in the front.

Our conversations initially just revolved around my foot and the progress I had been making. I was actually annoyed with him because he'd shame me for not completing all the exercises I was supposed to do for the week. After the first month though, I'd just lie and say I did them. That kind of led into more positive sessions and he began to open up more about his personal life which I enjoyed. I hate idle conversation for conversation sake. If it were up to me, there would be no talking at the salon or at the kid's baseball game. I don't really want to talk about the weather, or what I do for work, or what some dumb celebrity did. Give me something with substance or just stay quiet. I know, it sounds horrible, but that's just me, always has been. It's probably why me and my husband, Tim, are where we're at. He is on idle and I'm looking for deep, life altering connection.

So this PT, Garrett, began telling me all about his family which eventually turned into him bashing his ex-wife. This kind of talk became my dirty pleasure as it was refreshing to hear that someone else had problems in their marriage. While Garrett was done with his, I was in the thick of mine. Tim was losing his edge at work and seemed to have stalled in his climb up the ladder. That was fine and all but it definitely seemed to plateau our relationship. I could see as his passion dwindled at work, so did it with me and the kids. I didn't like it and all my attempts to motivate him were for naught. Garrett's little incites into how ugly a once loving relationship could get, made me begin to re-examine my own. For a bit, Garrett was actually helping my marriage! I began to really "pump" Tim up with plenty of compliments and affection. I bought a cute little red lingerie set and gave him plenty of "sexy times". Tim seemed to take to it for a bit as his hugs were warmer and smiles more frequent but after a bit, he fell right back into his old ways.

I saw Garrett twice a week and towards the end of the second month, our conversations were almost even in dumping our emotional baggage. It was like half PT, half psycho therapy. In the third and last month, my foot was pretty much back to normal but we agreed that I should finish the prescribed amount of sessions. My OCD kicked in when he made the comment I could be finished early. I just had to finish the session number, lol. Plus, I knew I'd miss the conversation.

What I liked about Garrett was that he was always polite and would always say, "may I" before going hands-on with my foot or leg. Secretly, I thought it was very cute if not overkill on being a gentlemen. But he was good at his job and healed me quite well. His touch never really bothered me as when other people touch me. Always firm but gentle. It was nice and sometimes I just needed the attention, even if it was strictly professional. I knew by this time too that I was probably laughing a bit too loud at his dad jokes and exaggerating how much his touch tickled the sole of my foot. He was good at playing along if he wasn't enjoying it also.

But alas, all good things had to come to an end. With the last session done, he said good bye and presented me with his business card that had a hand written number on it titled "work cell". He told me he was working on setting up his private business on the side and attempting to gain initial clients at a discounted rate. The pitch was done well as he would use his gym membership guest pass for sessions and get paid in cash. In turn, he'd have a strong client foundation for when his business officially opened. I took the card, smiled and gave him a sincere hug. He did good and I felt bad his (beautiful, btw) wife had taken him to the cleaners financially and with the kids. That day, I really had no intention of calling as my foot was 100% and it may have just been a ploy to see me again. That annoyed me. If he wanted a date, he could have just said so. I would have said no but at least it's honest.

It wasn't until I came across Tim's Discord text conversations that my mind changed about being faithful. I was hurt and frankly, concerned about what I had read in the app. Tim apparently enjoyed chatting with other men about jerking off together over fake plastic online whores. I didn't know what to think and my attraction to him diminished to nothing. I stopped initiating sexual touch as the mere thought of it made me cringe. I debated confronting him about what I had found but I decided to keep it to myself. I felt that if he knew I knew, he'd change his password (that he didn't know I had found) and keep doing it behind my back. Plus, I wanted to see what he was up to. So I just stopped having sex with him and resented him in private.

For about six months, I heavily relied on my fingers and Satisfier for my pleasure. It was there that Garrett often made his way into my brain. Fantasies involving him massaging my foot and moving his hands up to my privates became more and more common. It wasn't long before I preferred fantasy Garrett over reality Garrett. In my head, he was broader, stronger, and hung with a member that filled every inch of me. As my mind drifted to Garrett sexually, it also drifted to him emotionally. I thought about his family and his starting business. Some of the jokes we shared ("A man was injured playing peek-a-boo, he's in the ICU!") and little moments we had were somewhat..special.

Seeing his card in my wallet almost every day wasn't helping either. For whatever reason (deep down I knew the reason), I never threw it out. It was just a constant reminder. Someone out there liked me enough to give me his number. Maybe he was schmoozing me to get a client, perhaps he did it to everyone, either way, I took it as a complement. I was middle-aged, my boobs had started to sag from the kids and my belly wasn't what it used to be. I couldn't remember the last time I was seriously hit on and Tim was just helpless. After checking Tim's Discord one night, I saw more of the same but now with pictures of himself in the act. I was so angry, I threw the phone, told him to watch the kids and drove to a parking lot. No joke, it was probably 9 o'clock at night when I broke down and called Garrett.

I completely lied and told Garrett I wanted to schedule a session as pain in my foot had returned. He agreed and scheduled an appointment at his gym a few days later. Even though he seemed all business on the phone, it was nice to hear his voice.

So, during our first gym session, I may have worn a slightly sexy (but functional) outfit that wasn't my usual baggy sweats and tshirt. Under the guise of dressing for a "gym" setting, I wore a baggie Nike T-shirt with cut sleeves that "may" have shown my purple sports bra. That, with tight black leggings made me feel feminine again. For me, it was daring but in reality, probably pretty tame. I felt good and yeah, it felt even better that I caught Garrett checking out my body in the mirror. It was just icing on the cake.

The session went great and we picked up where we left off. Lots of laughing and deep conversation. His deep blue eyes focused on me as we talked and it was such a turn on. The old fashioned lady feelings danced in my belly for the entire 45 min. At the end, we exchanged social media profiles and like that, he was in my life.

I know social media is a facade where people post only the best parts of their lives but somehow I completely bought Garrett's fantasy. He had the appearance of a devoted dad, budding entrepreneur, and obvious health nut. Usually, I would roll my eyes when people posted photos of themselves with their shirts off but with Garrett, not so. His beach pics were a little bit of all right ;). Broad, muscly and well manicured. He was much hotter sans shirt. Many a time, my fantasies took note of such photos.

It didnt take long, maybe 4 sessions, until Garrett stopped charging me for his work. Tim didn't care either about me seeing him. He knew and never asked how things were going or who Garrett was. He never asked about my foot or why I was dressing differently. He either didn't care or was too stupid to know things had changed. That in-and-of-itself annoyed me. But I started not to care. Garrett made me feel good about myself. Our sessions transitioned to traditional weight training and results followed soon after. Garrett motivated me to go the extra rep and that was what I needed, someone that could inspire.

Garrett began to text me outside of the gym as well. Flirty texts became common and whenever I heard the familiar "ding" of the phone, my heart would beat an extra beat as I hoped it was him. That's how it progressed. Innocent fun for the most part but it became more undeniable that I was falling for him. With each gym session, his touches lasted longer, while his gaze fixed upon my body with a more lustful eye. After awhile, he didn't even hide as his eyes would frequently be glued to my ass. I'll admit, I let it happen as my yoga pants eventually turned to yoga shorts. I always had a little booty back there but since working out, it became quite a peach. Other guys at the gym noticed too, and I liked the attention (even though I pretended not to notice).

Our sessions also became longer and longer. It began to make for a long day as the sessions were twice a week after work. I was a social worker and sometimes all that got me through the day was knowing I had my gym time. If not for that, it was tough work at work, and tougher work at home. Tim sat around and continued his odd behavior while dabbling in video games. Meanwhile, I made dinner, cleaned the house and tended to our family. All to just go to bed and do all over the next day. I ran that house and kept it together for them. For me, having Garrett was a bright spot that I needed to keep everything moving. If it wasn't for him, I probably would have divorced Tim.

Garrett had made the habit of chatting with me at my car after our workouts. After the usual giggles and light jabs at my progress, I always gave him a hug. His hugs were warm and full. His arms would wrap up my body and sometimes his sweat would soak my top. Each time I would fight the desire to plant a kiss on that bearded face of his. But I withheld, time and time and time again. Months turned to a year as we grew closer. My fantasies continued and it was because of that, that I started to believe it was more than just a crush or fling. I was in love, something I hadn't felt in twelve in years. I felt like I was in college again. I flirted and dressed sexy and did my hair and nails. My body even changed. Small bits of definition formed on my arms, my butt looked amazing, and for the first time in 20 years, I could show my mid-rift. My tits even seemed perkier!

Meanwhile, Garrett was heavy with the flirting and we both knew what the other was thinking. We had inside jokes and threads of daily conversation. But to his credit, he never made a move beyond a hug. I considered him in my head my boyfriend, and that mental lie was more than enough for me...on MOST days. There were those days where Tim pissed me off to no end and I considered calling Garrett to take me straight to the court house for divorce paperwork. But I could usually pull it together in anticipation of my next workout. Until I couldn't.

One afternoon, Garrett and I finished up leg day and we started chatting by my car. I made the mistake of telling him my legs hurt and asked if we could talk in my car. We sat inside but for some reason, the vibe was just different. More intimate. His eyes were bluer, I could smell his smell, he really felt like my boyfriend. I couldn't help but ask to drink from his water bottle and take small sips, just to have a taste of him. We chatted about my body, too. He complimented my progress and of course, I made a muscle with my arm to which he had to squeeze. I knew my sports bra was showing much up top as I intentionally squeezed my little mommy b cup boobs together as I leaned to talk with him. Of course, I would look away to give him a chance to check me out which he did without fail.

I had him. His boner grew as his basketball shorts failed to hide his instinct. I kept it going, with (honestly) full intention to cut him off, by twirling my brown hair and keeping that "moment too long" eye contact. And boy was he hooked. He kept that eye contact and didn't back down.

That seemed to be when the tables turned. I was now the fish, the fish hooked on his lure. Thoughts of divorce and moving and a broken home flooded my headed, but only for a moment. He grabbed my thigh, gave it a brief shake and told me he had to go.

Garrett was mature, and a gentlemen. He could feel the energy and probably sensed I was unsure. Having fun, oh god yes, but really ready? No. Not yet.

We both got out and he gave me a nice big hug. Wrapped up in his arms, the moment got the best of me. I kissed him. Oh boy, did I kiss him. And it was great.

After my heart sank, we made out there for a bit before his hand made its way to my ass and that was the only sign I needed to take it further. I told him to get in my car and there we awkwardly made out some more. With each swap of saliva, my pussy dripped more. I didn't care, I went that far, so I just kept going. He began to squeeze my boob over bra as my nipples hardened. The sensation was electrifying as my clit begged to be touched. I was taken, his kisses meant something. His touch was masculine. This was needed.

I had already cheated so I figured I might as well take the bait. We agreed to meet at a nearby empty lot behind an empty furniture store. We drove separate and there I got into his Jeep. We continued to make out and I pulled up my bra showing him my boobs. He gave them such attention like he'd never seen a pair before. He sucked on them a bit harder than I usually liked but his squeezes were oh so sexy. I was wet and dripping for him. As he squeezed both of my tits and kissed me, I fumbled for a grip of his cock.

I reached in and pulled it out. Not big by any means but it did the job. He had a fat head that reminded me of a German WW2 helmet. I remember chuckling in my head before putting it in my mouth. I sucked him good and hard. He tasted delicious and it brought back the pleasant memories of when I used to enjoy giving a good BJ. I loved having that control of a full grown man. He was powerless as I worked his manhood in my mouth. Each tongue swipe, coupled with a fondling of his balls, really sent him over the edge. He tried to return the favor by putting his hand down my shorts but I was having none of it. I continued to blow him continuously until he couldn't take it anymore. With some final rapid licks across the underside of his dick, he came hard. I could feel his cum shoot across my face. God was it fun! After a few grunts and moans, it was over. There I was, tits out with my right cheek glistening with a line of sperm. He looked as equally ridiculous with his dying erection and cum covered pubes. During our clean up, I just didn't know what to think and where my life had gone. What the fuck just happened.

He made an attempt to please me but his effort wasn't up to snuff. I told him it was alright and that we should leave before we got caught. I felt shitty as I just cheated on my husband, and my rationalization that I deserved it or it was justified or I DIDN'T cheat because I didn't cum was all for naught. I cheated physically but had been cheating emotionally on Tim for over a year.

Garrett gave me a kiss and dropped me off at my car. We texted and chatted about our future. Our workouts shifted to pay-by-the-hour hotels and coffee dates. I was full on sleeping with him. We used condoms and proper precautions but I had given him my world. Tim eventually found a suspicious text Garrett had sent me. Tim called me on it and asked to see the rest of our messages. I refused to show him and we fought. Maybe not the most mature of my moments, but I denied his accusations and quickly called him out on the Discord conversations.

The fight nearly ended in divorce. I kicked him out of the house and supported the family by myself. Work was tough and luckily my mom helped with babysitting. I continued to see Garrett and from then on immediately deleted our texts each day. This went on for about another six months before Tim began to make the effort to reconnect. Every day, flowers would be at my door with an apology note. He talked about his therapy and strides he had made with his depression.

Before long, Tim was back at home. I could tolerate him and somewhat enjoyed having him back. Seeing Garrett on the side also made things bearable as my new lifestyle seemed to work. That continued for another few months before things cooled off. I slept with him maybe thirty times before arguments crept into the relationship. He eventually seemed less than enthusiastic to work out with me, too. Whether it be because of his other clients, or whatever, he told me the gym did not like him using the facility for his sessions. With that finished, I told him it was ok and we didn't have to see each other. I still see his card in with all my other business contacts and think about our time together. I enjoyed the feelings he gave me and really, he saved my marriage. Things were never good with Tim, just kinda tolerable. Tim never knew the extent of my relationship with Garrett and I planned to keep it that way. We had a special thing and though some days I feel guilty, I try to really think about where I was emotionally when it happened. After some soul searching and looking at photos of Tim, I came to the realization that deep down, my affair was a good thing. It was natural, it was fun, it was something that if I could, I'd do again... no regrets.