[Note: With the exception of changing his first name, everything else in here is 100% accurate, with absolutely zero embellishment or alteration.]
As I approached 30, I had made the decision to get out of my marriage. My husband and I had grown apart. We weren’t getting along well at all, there were old resentments that constantly came up, we did almost nothing fun together, and we had gone from nightly sex to maybe once a month. I felt completely taken for granted by my husband and the relationship was dying, so sit seem
I’m fairly curvy with big boobs and ample ass. Through running and yoga I had gotten myself into phenomenal shape that spring in anticipation of being back out on the dating market by the fall. I looked good and I knew it.
In June I was out with friends for a bachelorette party when a guy approached me. Dylan had dark hair, green eyes, and very obviously was in great shape. He was funny, confident, and flirty, and I loved his Irish accent and his Dutch soccer jersey. So we chatted for a while. Dylan mentioned he was a teacher at a suburban high school about 30 minutes away. Eventually my group of friends was moving on to another bar, so he asked for my number. I didn’t want to give it out in front of my friends, so I told him I was married. Dylan visibly was crestfallen to hear this, but smiled mischievously at me as we said goodbye.