To get some things out of the way, Yes, I know cheating is “bad”, but IMO if you’re in a dead bedroom and have a husband who hasn’t gotten you off in years, there’s a certain point in which ordinary needs, well, need to be taken care of, and for me they peaked that night in Berkeley. As for pics of me, I don’t think I can do anything soon, but maybe down the road if things keep going how they are, then sure. I might be able to tweak (IE remove face and other things that can identify me) some boudoir photos I had done for my husband in 2019 (We weren’t always how we are now, I used to have hope…) to satiate your interests in the meantime.
So, after my wild night with Luke, my interest in younger men began to increase, a lot. Suddenly even a trip down to Starbucks was riddled with thoughts of being bent over the counter by one of the young men who worked there, Blake. Blake is a young man working his way through College by working at Starbucks, but with his body he could easily find work as a male stripper, because man is he in shape. But this story isn’t about Blake (though if I grow bolder, a future one very well could be…), this story is about Brandon, my Pilates instructor.