How have I gotten here? Have you ever asked yourself that question? It all started out innocently with good will, and grew into something that surprised both my wife and me.
I am married to a drop-dead gorgeous woman; Rochelle. She is 5 foot 4 inches tall, a slim, trim 118 pounds, long beautiful dark brown hair that flows across her shoulders and subtle olive colored neck. Big deep brown eyes that pull you in with a bedroom look to them, and full luscious full lips that remind me of those of Angelina Jolie's. Her most amazing assets by far are her breasts; 34DDD's that we refer to as her "girls". You can see that with having a small frame and 34DDD's, she is the amazing brunette that always turn men's heads as she passes.
We have been married for a wonderful 10 years, and have always enjoyed each other's company. Sure, there are always differences in interests, but we truly enjoy nature, music, fine dining, and each other's bodies.
I wish I could describe myself as vociferously as I have my wife, but I am pretty much a "plain Tom". I am an accountant at a large brokerage firm, and pretty much fit the mold of your imaginations. At 205 pounds, 5 foot 11 inches, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and a somewhat standard frame. I don't have any amazing assets, hell; I even have a flat derrière. I am average in all respects of the word -- including my manhood. I won't lie like most other men; I have measured, and my wonder wand is 6 ½ inches long by 4 ½ inches around. Not bad -- just average.
Our sex life seemed to be perfect; or so I thought. Up until recently, I think Rochelle would have agreed with that statement.
You see, my wife wasn't a trim, fit 118 pounds about 2 years ago. She was a rather "hefty" 172 pound squatty middle-aged woman. She always was beautiful to me, no matter what her weight - seriously. I know men would disagree, but I love this woman -- weight didn't affect how I saw her. Albeit, it was a bit uncomfortable when she was in the cowgirl position, and when she collapsed on me after a tremendous orgasm, I did have a more difficult time breathing normally.
How then, did she go from a 35 year old, 172 pound teletubby into a fit beautiful, HOT, sex pot? As with every person who has lost a lot of weight; a major change in eating habits, and diligent exercise. Now you can understand why, at standing only 5 foot 4, she has a beautiful, amazing rack on her. Her "girls" forgot that they were supposed to trim down also.
It wasn't overnight by any stretch of the imagination. It was pure dedication of her will, and looking back now, the added encouragement by our neighbor's son, Trace. Trace is how our lives changed in all aspects -- a young 20 something handsome male, and a wife with more potential than she knew.
Rochelle is a self-employed photographer, and has always enjoyed it. Most of her thriving business is weddings, with a more minority part of the business with portraits in her studio. We built a quaint studio off of the den of our house which has a separate outside entrance. High School yearbook pictures are seasonal and busy. She does take family and individual sittings in nature; a beautifully landscaped park near our home is the usual location. She has taken some breathtaking photos of clients with snow capped mountain tops in the background, near waterfalls, and her favorite spot - the beach. Most of the beach photos are for family Christmas cards, school volleyball teams, with a rare exception being a young lady who wants a portfolio of beachwear and swimsuits for a hopeful modeling career.
The majority of our income is based on my work, and being a couple that never had children, dual incomes provided us with a gorgeous home situated near the beach in Santa Cruz. It is a modest sized home, but upgraded with numerous amenities over our 8 years of living here; a huge garden hot tub in the master suite, open living space for the kitchen and living areas. By far, the keystone item in our remodel was the swimming pool we installed 3 years ago. With a rather large back yard that we enclosed with a 6 foot fence for safety and privacy, most of our evenings are spent poolside eating dinner and just relaxing. How refreshing to take a dip in your own pool at the end of a long day -- serenity.
About 3 years ago, shortly after we completed the pool, my wife was frustrated with herself for not being disciplined enough to maintain a healthy weight, and decided that she was going to do something about it. "If we are going to have a pool, I should at least do something to make my body more conducive to being the owner of it."
"What were you thinking babe?"
"I'm tired of trying diets to lose the weight. It's just discouraging. I guess I could join the gym downtown, but I would feel so embarrassed in front of the majority of people who have more than likely been my clients. I don't want to be the 'fat lady who takes pictures' -- I want to at least lose some of this before I could expose myself to strangers in a gym."
"Well, why don't we go together? That way, you could just use me as a shield while we're exercising. Besides, it would be good for me to firm up and lose a couple of pounds myself."
"No, that wouldn't work either; people would still see me.....and my fat."
"You're not fat sweetheart; I love you the way you are."
A smile crossed her face. "Really?"
"Absolutely! I see you for you, and not your weight."
She sighed and her shoulders fell. "That's sweet hon."
She then approached me and wrapped her arms around my neck while staring deeply into my eyes. "I love that you don't care what my weight is, and I know you mean it, but I desperately want to take off this weight. It's not good for me, it affects my health long term, and I know that I would feel better about myself."
Then she got her little wicked smile out and raised that eyebrow "But in the mean time, until I figure out the best way to do this weight thing, why don't we go have our own workout in the bedroom?" She released her hold on me, sauntered toward our bedroom and then shot that come hither look over her shoulder.
Wow, she's hot! It didn't take long for me to dart after her and make amazing love to her for the next half hour.
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"Amazing is all that I can say; you are amazing".
Rochelle just lay in my arms with a contented smile and cooing. We were a perfect match as far as our lovemaking, and the afterglow was sweet every time.
Like a shot of lightning, out of nowhere, a thought entered my mind; wasn't our neighbor's son some kind of runner or exercise buff? I know he was a gym rat to a degree, but not sure if he still was or not. Ron and Laura were our neighbors of about 5 years, they were a few years older than us, but I never spent much time talking to their son Trace. I made it a point that I wanted to ask Ron if Trace was still into the gym scene, and if he had any pointers for Rochelle.
"Huh..." I mumbled.
"What?" Rochelle asked still recovering from our tryst.
"I just had a thought that's all. Isn't Ron and Laura's son some kind of gym bum?"
"Trace?"
"Yeah. I thought he was a runner, or swimmer, or some kind of health nut..."
"Hmmm, uh, yeah, he is. You're right."
There was a dead silence for a few seconds, and then Rochelle continued. "No. That's even more embarrassing."
"What is?"
"He's our neighbor's son, so instead of a stranger in a gym, I'd be even more embarrassed to be revealing my body to someone we kind of know"
"Oh stop! That's crazy. Listen, it sounds like to me that you are trying to make excuses NOT to have a reason to exercise. What if I suggested one of your girlfriends?"
"That's no good either -- probably even worse. All my girlfriends are in great shape, and even though they would completely understand if I asked them to help, I'm just so embarrassed to even ask. "
"Sweetheart, listen to what you are saying: I want to lose weight because we now have a pool, but I'm too embarrassed to exercise in front of anyone. I love you, but that doesn't make sense."
Again, there was a silence for both of us as we thought to ourselves.
I was the first to start "Babe, how about this; I'll talk to Ron discreetly about Trace to see if he still works out, and if I can talk to him about some pointers, or suggestions on losing weight. Maybe we could get a treadmill or stepper for the den, and make that into a personal gym to exercise."
She was chewing on her bottom lip in thought. "Okay. You can ask Ron, but tell me what he says first before you go asking Trace. I'd like to decide based on Ron's reply."
"Done." We rolled into each other's arms; I love that woman!
The next day I saw Ron retrieving his mail from the mailbox after work. We usually arrived to our respective home around the same time, and this was no exception. I hoped out of my car as I pulled into our driveway, and made sure to catch him before he walked in his own house for the evening.
"Ron, how are you sir?"
He turned and saw me approaching as a smile formed on his face. "Tom. Good, good. And you?"
"We're doing well. Glad to be done with the crazy day today."
"I know what you mean."
Ron is a great neighbor. He was about mid 50's, salt & pepper hair, square jaw, and in considerably good shape for his age. He and Laura pretty much kept to themselves, but over the 5 years that we've been neighbors, we have casually had dinner together at either one of our houses. Not that we were close friends, but very good acquaintances.
"Hey Ron, I was just wondering, does Trace still work out at the gym? I'm starting to think that I could use some pointers as to what is the best way to do some training. Not that I want to bulk up into a Mr. Universe or anything, just realizing that I need to get this body in shape a little to keep it going for as long as possible."
"Trace? Sure, that boy has always been active. He loves sports, and exercising. He used to work out down at the gym downtown, but we turned the guest quarters into a quasi-gym for him last summer. We built that little place in the backyard for when Laura's Mom got too old to take care of herself, but since she's still going strong, we figured that it wouldn't hurt to convert it to a gym for Trace until grandma needs it."
"Wow, really? I never knew you guys did that. So, what, does he have a treadmill and some weights?"
"Oh, I don't know what it all is, but it keeps him out of trouble. Not that he's a bad kid, but he's still young. He just started his freshman year at the Junior College, but wants to transfer to a major college to finish up." His thoughts seemed to over ride his verbal ability at the moment.
"I guess you and Laura would be empty nesters then?"
"Somethin' like that."
"Well, listen, next time you see Trace, could you let him know that I would like to talk with him about what would be the best route for an old fart like me to get into shape," I asked with my hand extended to him.
