Before we begin, there are a few things that I need to share with you so that this all makes sense. The guy's name is Osvaldo and he is a 51-year-old man, overweight, average height. Osvaldo is Hispanic, has brown eyes to match his brown hair and brown skin. His cock is small, only 4.5". He is in a long-term relationship with his wife Ilene.
Ilene is a very curvy Anglo (white) with larger tits and a shaved pussy. She is cute and playful. She has beautiful auburn hair and a nice smile. She is only 5' 2" and she works out three times a week as she is trying to shed twenty pounds, but Osvaldo dotes on her. He could never imagine being with anyone else, ever.
I am Jerry, and I am 61 and a little overweight, with brown eyes and hair and a nice cock. I have never really worked out, so I am not muscular, but to offset this, I am very good at going down on women.
I posted on Reddit: "I enjoy writing erotic fiction and am always open to new ideas. Feel free to message me with story suggestions and any details you'd like included. If I decide to write it, I'll reach out to you."
Now the interesting part-Osvaldo sent me this extremely long Reddit message regarding his wife, even detailing what city that they live in, her first name, and what gym she frequents. As fate would have it, we all live North of New York City; only 18 miles apart.
I surmise that his inner self desired for her to be discovered and pursued--why else would he divulge so many unnecessary details?
We are all familiar with TMI. Did Osvaldo want me to be able to find his wife? I don't know and actually don't care. It makes little difference to me, but it might make a difference to Osvaldo-fucking ask him.
"Running into her" would be easy since Osvaldo left me a trail of breadcrumbs leading me right to her. I joined the gym and since I had a lot of time on my hands, I started going a few times a week at various times of the day. What I did not take in consideration, was the unintended benefit that I was slimming down and gaining muscle mass. My slimming down did not go unnoticed by my cheating wife; but this really doesn't play into the story at this point.
At the gym, I started talking to people and got to know a few pretty well including a couple of girls at the reception desk. I started asking them if my friend Ilene with auburn hair was here today. For the first few weeks, I was unsuccessful at meeting Ilene and was thinking of not renewing my membership and calling it a day.
I asked Cathy at the desk if Ilene was here today and she pointed to a woman that was short and curvy with auburn hair.
"Isn't that her, the one you are looking for"? Cathy asked.
"I think so. It has been a long time since I saw her last," I lied.
Game time. What do I say? What do I do? I have one shot: two at best, to make the connection. I did not know where she went to school but I knew she grew up in Schaumburg, IL.
Schaumburg in the 1980s was a rapidly growing suburb that was still in the process of transitioning from a more rural area to a bustling residential and commercial hub. I did not know what part of the city that she grew up in, so I needed to be vague.
She was bench pressing on the Smith machine. I did not want to startle her so I just said, "Excuse me?"
"Yes"
"My name is Jerry, and you probably don't remember me, but I know you from Schaumburg. I was a lot shorter and younger then," I said with a grin.
I set the hook just like when I go saltwater fishing with my brother.
She looked confused but hit me with, "I don't remember you, but it's nice to see you," or something along those lines.
"Wanna catch up after we're done working out? There's a coffee spot right across the street," I tossed out, casual but calculated.
"Uh... okay. But just for a little bit."
Twenty minutes later, I met up with her, and we headed across the street, grabbed a couple of caps, and settled at a small table. The conversation was a damn tightrope walk since I was weaving a story that wasn't exactly rooted in reality. But I kept it smooth, worked my way through the fiction, and finally got to the good part--asking the real questions.
"So, are you Married"? I asked.
"Yes for a longtime. My husband is a great guy and a provider," she responded.
I gave it a rest for a few minutes and talked about her job and the gym before revisiting the topic.
"My wife is wonderful most of the time, but sometimes I feel like things are a little stale. I tried to spice them up but she resists.
Sorry, that is a lot of information to share," I said with a grin.
I expected her to get a little uncomfortable. But she seemed ok as she sipped her coffee.
"I know what you mean. I mean same shit, different day," she spit out.
"I am not sure why I am sharing this with an almost stranger,"
"Maybe it is because you are looking for something to spice things up," I responded.
I threw a hail marry. In poker we call it "all in." Up until now, I was bluffing but now it was time to either show my cards or fold.
"Would you consider getting together again, maybe somewhere quieter?"
She froze.
"This is all happening very quickly. I need to think about it-what's your number?"
I gave her my number and she rushed out of the shop with her coffee in hand.
The next time that I saw her was in the gym several days later. I approached her and asked her if she gave meeting again any thought.
"Jerry, I have been faithful to my husband. What about your wife?"
I explained that my wife cheated on me twice and then I cheated on her once. Not bad after thirty years of marriage.
Her face started to get flush and her breathing heavier. I started to look more closely at her beautiful breasts as she was wearing one of those stretch workout body suits which allowed me to get a good view of her cleavage. Honestly I was starting to get a little aroused which was not a good thing in a gym.
"Ok what did you have in mind"? she finally asked.
"Well nothing near our houses. I will find some place that has a bar. Just talk and see where it goes, if anywhere," I responded.
