As I cleaned the breakfast dishes and made sure the kids lunches were ready, I smiled at the three bags lined up neatly by the bench. My children were all getting ready for school, and my husband, James, was gathering his things getting ready for work.
The kids came out from their rooms, and I kissed each on the cheek as they collected their respective school bags and headed out to the car.
"Don't forget to drop your car off at the tyre shop, will you honey?" said James as he kissed me on the cheek and picked up his briefcase.
"I won't, honey. I will head there straight after the gym. The car is booked in for eleven o'clock. I figured I'd drop it off and do a spot of shopping while I wait for the new tyres to be fitted. Now don't forget it's roast lamb for dinner tonight, so try not to be late."
Watching my once sexy husband walk out the door, I sighed.
For fifteen years we had been what most considered to be the ideal couple. I was tall, blonde and well shaped. James was athletic and successful. The kids attended private school, and I was Secretary of the PTA. Our house was lovely, in a quiet neighbourhood, and we owned two lovely cars. James drove off in his BMW X5, whilst my Mazda sat in the garage waiting for me to have the new tyres fitted later that day.
I sighed once more.
Something was missing. The spark had gone. Our once wild, unbridalled passionate sex was a thing of the past. These days it was a rather quick, infrequent exchange of bodily fluids, which usually left me having to use my toy the following morning to relieve the sexual frustration.
I wiped down the sink and walked in to our room. I stripped off my dressing gown, and took a long, hard look at myself in the mirror. I studied the curve of my butt and the swell of my breasts, and wondered why James no longer found me attractive enough to want to fuck like we used to. I sighed once more as my fingers reached for my nipples and I pinched them slowly, recalling the hundreds of times over the years of our marriage that I had climaxed on James dick as he slowly rode me to orgasm. I still was sure I was in good shape, but something was making me wonder if I was indeed no longer sexy. As the heat built in my loins, and the frustration of a woman who was a week without a climax began to take over, I quickly stopped rubbing my nipples and dressed for the gym.
My white shoes, black shiny leggings and red crop top were skin tight, and I knew I looked good in them. I grabbed a hoodie and carried it with me, just in case, as the autumn air was beginning to cool. I locked the door and jumped in to my Mazda, opening the sunroof and turning up the radio as I backed out of the garage and headed for the gym.
At the gym I immersed myself in the workout, but my eye kept catching the new guy working out on the bench press in the heavy weights section. He was massive! His face was rugged, and he had acne scarring all over his lower cheeks, but I couldn't take my eyes of those muscles! He was wearing a singlet, and as he pushed the barbell up and down, and I worked the leg extension machine, I found myself fantasizing he was lifting me up and down on his penis.
I was embarrassed to be having such thoughts, but I couldn't stop! My pussy started to tingle and my nipples were throbbing as he stood and wiped the sweat off his face before moving to the bicep curl machine.
I realised I was getting sweaty, and my hands wanted to pinch my nipples and thrust into my pants, but I was in the gym and there were several other members working out too. I jumped onto one of the bikes to cool down, and put in my headphones to try to take my mind of the mental images he was conjuring up in my mind, but it was no good. As I slowly pedalled and listened to some Chris Isaak, the only thing I could think of was being pumped by the muscleman! I was hopeless. Grabbing my towel and finishing my workout, I towelled the sweat off my brow, and went to the change rooms to freshen up. Looking at myself in the mirror, I adjusted my hair, reapplied my lippy, and sprayed some perfume in all the right places, before heading out to the car and driving to the tyre place.
Arriving shortly after, I put my sunnies on my head and walked to the office area with my keys, holding my clutch purse. I put my hoodie on, but was still in my gym gear, and I felt I Iooked pretty good as I walked in. I'm only 39, and as I said before, my body is still in good shape. I'm five foot ten inches tall, and my legs are rather long, so in black, shiny tights, they look even longer. A wolf-whistle from one of the guys in the workshop grabbed my attention just as I opened the office door, and I smiled back at the young man in overalls who was watching me walk in. Behind the counter of the tyre shop office, I was surprised to see a rather tall, handsome black man. His name badge told me he was Rupert, and once more the blood rushed to my loins as I studied the muscular arms under his short sleeved shirt and the amazing dark eyes.
"Hi there. You must be Mrs, Roberts, booked in for new tyres all round at eleven."
I was impressed.
"Yes. That's me. My car's in the parking area. I thought I'd do a spot of shopping while you work."
"No problem, Mrs Roberts, but if you'd like to wait, it will only take about forty minutes, and the boys will have you up and ready to go?"
I wondered two things: firstly, should I wait given it would only take that long, and, secondly, I wondered what it might be like to be made 'up and ready to go' by the men in the workshop. I scolded myself for such thoughts, the image of my husband and children leaving the house that morning still fresh in my mind. What was happening to me? Why was I starting to have such strange reactions? Why was my pussy throbbing as I stood there looking at this handsome black man in public?
"OOoh, well, in that case, is there somewhere I can make myself comfortable?" I asked.
"Sure is. Right this way."
Rupert indicated I should follow him and we entered a rather plush little waiting room. On the table were the morning's papers, and a few assorted magazines. A coffee machine was on the wall, and a TV was showing the morning news on the wall.
"Make yourself at home, Mrs, Roberts. I'll let you know when the car is ready, ok?"
I smiled and thanked him, my mind wondering what lay beneath the trousers he was wearing. I made myself a coffee, and selected a magazine to read as I relaxed and tried to take my mind off the dirty thoughts I had been having all morning. Suddenly my mobile phone buzzed. It was James, and a text told me he was called to an interstate meeting at short notice, and would be dropping in home to pick up a few things later that day before heading off for three days. I sighed once more, realising any chance of making love had just disappeared for another three days at least, even though we hadn't really made love in weeks, and the only orgasms I had enjoyed were at my own hand. I sipped my coffee and the yearnings began again.
As I flicked through the pages of the magazine, the coffee was warming me up inside. My mind drifted back to the gym, and to my mysterious muscleman. I caught myself dropping one had to my loins, as my hand snuggled in between my legs on the couch. I glanced around to make sure no one could see me, then gave myself a little play, adjusting myself in the leather couch as I began to enjoy the feeling.