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So, I’m just sitting here watching my soaps waiting for my son to get back. He went to the airport to pick up his college teammate. They were both rising sophomores on the local college baseball team. His friend was flying in early and the dorms wouldn’t open for another week, so my son offered to let him stay at our house, and I was willing to open my doors to my son’s friend for a week. In fact, I was more than willing to, as this summer had become boring with just my son and I at home together. Not that I wasn’t married, it was just that my husband was never home. Let me give you a bit of a back story.

I met Clark in middle school and we started dating. This continued all the way into high school. Clark wasn’t insanely popular, but he did play sports and hung out with the jocks. He was about 5’7″ then and still is today in fact. During his high school athlete years, he stayed in fairly good shape. Incidentally, during our freshman year we both decided we were ready to take our relationship to the next level. We had dated for two years now, and thought things were serious enough. So one night after letting our hormones get the best of us, we finally had sex. Being stupid kids at the time, we didn’t think about using protection and a week or two later I realized I was pregnant.

I tried to play it off like I wasn’t for as long as possible, but my parents eventually realized what was going on. At this point, I couldn’t bring myself to have an abortion and decided to have the kid. I have never regretted this decision to this day. Brandon has been amazing. However, with 3 more years of high school left, there was no way I could take care of a kid. My parents agreed to take care of him for the next three years, but when I graduated high school, I was to become his full time mother. I was grateful that they were willing to do this. I spent the rest of high school working as much as I could to make enough money to support a child upon graduation. Then, would come home and spend as much time as I could with Brandon.

Clark decision to stay with me never wavered. He was going to be there to raise him. This made me love him even more. While he couldn’t have a job during the year due to sports, he worked as a mechanic during the summer and after graduating, received a full time job from the local mechanic garage. This money plus what I had saved up allowed us to by a house. Shortly after, we married.

In high school, Clark wasn’t the greatest athlete or that strong or big, but he gave his all in whatever sport he played. He took that same philosophy to life. He played hard, he loved me hard, and he worked hard. This would pay off, as his hard work eventually let him run the mechanic garage. However, this duty took a lot of time and put a lot of stress on Clark. He spent more and more time away from home. He gained a lot of weight. However, it seemed the more time he spent away from me, and with every pound he gained, I got in better shape.

With him being able to support us financially, I was able to be a stay at home housewife. My typical day consisted of taking care of the house, and then staying in shape. When my son started getting serious into working out for baseball, his workouts encouraged me to work out. Now at 32 years old, all the women on the block tell me I look like I’m 25. I am pretty short at 5’2″, but I have 34DD breasts that are still perky due to my weight training. I have a nice round, shapely ass and thick thighs, but a small waist that when I turn at the right angle, you can see a few ripples of my abs. I also spend my time tanning so I have a nice bronze skin color, which makes my blonde hair and blue eyes really pop. In fact, I look better now than I did when I was 25.

However, my husband hasn’t seems to notice. We maybe have sex once a month and I always have to initiate it. Even then, the sex is not that enjoyable. His weight gain has made it uncomfortable to have sex in any position other than cowgirl, and while I love cowgirl, it gets boring. Plus, his added weight has made him a little less equipped. He was never really large when younger, maybe around 6″, but now his dick seemed to be shrouded in fat and could only use maybe 4″ of it. In other words, I was as sexy as ever and sexually unsatisfied.

Now I do not have any intention of cheating on Clark. He has done everything in the word for me, and I would be crazy to throw that away, but sometimes I wonder if I am missing out on anything. He is the only guy I have ever been with and now that our love life has stalled, I do catch myself staring at other men a little too long, but what is a married woman to do?

So, I’m just sitting here watching my soaps waiting for my son to get back. I’m wearing what has become my normal lounging outfit: a white tank top and spandex shorts. The white tank top making me look especially tan today. Then the door opens and Brandon walks in carrying what looks to be a very large, heavy bag. He is almost a spitting image of his father at that age: cloud storage black hair, blue eyes, but a bit taller than Clark at 5’9″. He was in great shape. I think the last time I heard weighing about 160 lbs. Not especially large for a college baseball player, but he was more of a speedy centerfielder type.

I pop up immediate, “Oh, honey you need any help carrying anything?” I ask as his face strains as he walks to the staircase. He drops it panting a bit for breath.

“No, mom. Thanks though.” He gives a small smile, when my attention turns to the man walking through the door.

He was huge! So much taller than my son! He had to be at least 6’4″ and the casual t-shirt he was wearing looked like spandex as it hugged the crevasse of his pecs, and every crater of his 8-pack. The way his biceps bulged out of his sleeve looked as if it would pop at any moment. His jawline was super sharp and it was even more noticeable due to his brown hair being buzzed short. A bit of 5 o’clock shadow hugged his face up to his high cheekbones just below his deep, ocean blue eyes. He was carrying a large duffel bag on his back and two bags as large as the one Brandon was carrying under each arm. He walks through the door effortlessly, and stops behind Brandon.

“Oh, Mom, this is Colt,” My son says pointing to the Adonis that just walked through my door. Colt drops his bags to the floor with a loud thud! My god! Those must have weighed 75 lbs. each.

“Nice to meet you,” he says in a deep voice, and extends his hand out to shake mine. Jesus! It was the size of my head. I put my hand in his expecting him to crush it, but he was very gentle, understanding his own strength. I just nod and smile, not quite sure what my voice would sound like if I tried to speak right now. His eyes scan my body unapologetically and smiles. Wait. Did he just check me out? Right now, in front of my son? He looks me in the eye like he didn’t even care that I clearly realized what he just did. As appalled as I should have been at his actions, I couldn’t help feeling a rush of pride at his obvious approval of my looks.

He pulls his hand back and lifts his bags like it is not a difficult task at all. Brandon walks up to his room and Colt follows giving me one last smirk. I watch his jeans hug his ass as he takes each step. Once he’s out of view, I collapse back down on the couch and take a deep breath. ‘What was wrong with me?’ I thought. I felt like a groupie or a little schoolgirl. I shake my head a collect myself. ‘I was just taken by surprise,’ I think to myself, ‘He is a good-looking guy, but I’ve met hundreds of good-looking guys. He is just another.’ I stand up walking to the kitchen nodding to myself convinced of what I just said. That’s when I looked down at what I was wearing. No wonder he was smiling and checking me out. I never thought about it before, but this tank top exposed a bit more cleavage than acceptable for company and these shorts aren’t exactly modest.

I rush up the stairs to my room to change. I stare at my wardrobe wondering what I was going to wear. I haven’t worried about this in forever. I pulled out top after top tossing each one to the floor. I should want to just cover myself up, but I couldn’t help feeling like I should try to impress Colt just a little bit. Eventually, I settled on a nice button up blouse that hugged my waist, but covered my breasts well. I also put on a pair of jeans.

I hear the shower running as I get to the stairs and walk back into the den. Brandon is sitting on the couch. He seems to have recovered from carrying the heavy luggage. Then it hit me: Colt was in the shower. I couldn’t help but imagine what his naked body looked like with water cascading down his chiseled torso. I start to feel flustered, but shake out of it. I walk down and sit next to Brandon, who had changed the channel from my soap to SportsCenter.

“How was the ride?” I ask trying to start some small talk with my son.

“It was fine,” he says shortly. I was kind of upset, not that he didn’t talk, but I was hopping he would tell me something more about Colt, so I decided to ask myself.

“So, you said you two were going to be roommates this year?” I knew this was true I just wanted to open him up.

“Yeah, it should be real fun this year,” his eyes don’t move from the screen as he watches some player make a diving catch in the outfield.

“Oh, really? Fun year? What’s gunna be so fun about it?” I ask, my voice encouraging him to elaborate more.

“Well, we got pretty close last season, and he’s one of the best dude’s I know. Plus, it will be nice to have a teammate as a roommate so we can workout and practice together during the fall.”

I nod and hear footsteps walking down the stairs. My head turns instinctively as I see Colt’s torso and head become exposed as he walks further down the stairs. “You ready BP?” Colt asks. He is wearing a different shirt, this one hugging him just as tight.

“BP, huh?” I ask looking cloud file storage at my son with a smile. “Is that what they call you?”

“It sure is, Ms. Peterson.” Colt says stepping next to the couch. I can smell his musky aroma from my seat, and I feel myself blush a bit.

“It’s Mrs. Peterson,” I say boldly, “but you can call me Emma.”

Colt smiles a bit of a wicked grin. “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Peterson.” This sentence rolled out of his mouth so deep it was as if I could hear his vocal cords in my ear.

He just ignored the fact that I was married, even I after I corrected him. Thinking to myself, ‘What kind of game was he playing?’

“So, what do they call you?” I ask returning his challenge, leaning back casually, playing cool.

His smile grown a bit, “The Horse,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Why do they call you that?” My brow furrows. I was genuinely intrigued. That isn’t an everyday nickname.

“You know, Emma.” He smiles and cocks his head playfully to the side. “I’m not quite sure.” Hearing him say my name in that deep voice sent a rush through my stomach. “You ready to go?” he says turning to Brandon.

“Yeah,” he stands standing up, overly eager to get out of the middle of Colt and my discussion.

“Where are you two going?” I ask with a curious smile.

Brandon turns back to me. “Just going to get something to eat. Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” I respond. They turn around and head towards the door. ‘Great! More time alone’ I think sarcastically. “You don’t mind if I come do you. I’ll pay. I haven’t eaten dinner yet and your father won’t be home for quite a while as usual.” I stand up and face them pulling my blouse down. “Are you okay with that, Colt?”

Colt looks at me sizing my motives up, then to Brandon, and then to me. His lips curl into a grin. “Sure. Can’t turn down a free meal.”

I grin and squeak a little to loud, “Good!” I swallow trying to overcorrect my voice and walk around the two boys to the door. “I get a chance to get to know my son’s new roommate.” I accidentally, but really on purpose, brush into Colt as I say this and his body doesn’t budge. It was rock hard. I smile like a schoolgirl, but don’t let them see. I catch myself bouncing my ass back and forth more than I normally do as I walk in front of them to the car, but I don’t stop. ‘Clark would be so pissed if he saw this.’

I decide to take them to a really nice local sports bar. I tried to convince myself that it was a little treat for me and not so I could impress Colt. When we arrive, I notice the young hostess eyeball Colt eagerly and I don’t blame her in the slightest. This hunk would stand out on a Hollywood movie set. We are shown to our seats and the waitress, much like the hostess, pays more attention to Colt. Her over the top flirting was clear as she bent over the table putting her cleavage right in his face. I almost laughed out loud at the desperation of this girl, but was able to contain myself.

The conversation danced around what each of the boys did during the summer. I sat there and listened hanging on every word that came out of Colt’s mouth. He had a remarkable ability to make even the most trivial of activities sound magnificent, mysterious, and sexy. I would catch myself holding my breath and then trying to hide my gasping breaths afterwards. Eventually the food arrived and the conversation halted a bit. Colt and Brandon both ordered steaks, while I decided to get a salad hopefully to seem as ladylike as I could.

Colt’s phone vibrates on the table and I notice that the girls name in the contact area is ‘Ashley.’ He quickly looks down at his phone and then ignores it as if nothing happened. I assume it is his girlfriend and I feel my stomach sink slightly. ‘Why? Why should I care if he is dating someone? I have a husband, goddammit! I’m off limits, anyway.’

I decide to break the hiatus of conversation, “So, Colt, or should I say ‘Horse’?” I give a little smirk at the use of his nickname. “Please, tell me, how did you get that nickname?”

“Mom, stop,” Brandon pleads putting down his knife obviously annoyed.

I smile and giggle. “No, I want to know, you don’t just get called ‘Horse’ for no reason.” I lean forward just a bit subconsciously pushing my tits into the table. I notice Colt nonchalantly eating his food and occasionally looking up at me with a smirk.

“Mom, please, drop it,” Brandon pleads firmly. He stares at me with a look in his eye like he would not ever want me to know. I hold his stare feeling very confused.

I look at Colt who is looking from Brandon to me still with that smirk across his face. “Colt.” I pause and look at Brandon sternly. He cowers back a bit realizing nothing he says is going to stop me. “Do you want to tell me why they call you ‘Horse’?” I let out a small giggle that I’ve been trying to hold back. ‘Seriously, Em? A giggle.’

Colt looks at Brandon again, then back to me, and his smirk turns to a grin. “Of course, Emma.” file upload The sound of my name on his tongue makes me feel warm again. “As you can see, I am a big guy. I have big hands, big feet, big muscles, big…” He pauses and looks me directly in the eye. I actually feel my pussy tingle with his intense stare. I see Brandon sink in his seat. “…Well, big everything. So, when coaches or scouts or anyone really looks at me and then look down to the sheet and read 6’5″ 245 lbs., they assume that I am not that athletic. Which makes sense because most guys my size are doomed to a lifetime at first base.” He gives a little laugh and I nervously laugh with him. It is amazing the presence he commands, and he does it so effortlessly. “However, I have very good speed despite my size. In fact, there are only a few guys on the team that can beat me in a foot race. Little BP here being one of them.” He gives Brandon a small punch in the shoulder and Brandon is forced to lean way over to his right just by the weight of Colt’s fist. He then glues his deep pools of blue back to me and I feel a drip on my pussy. ‘Good God! This man was sexy’ “So, when you combine my size with my athletic ability it seems almost animalistic, almost…like a Horse.” He gives a big grin and sips at his drink again. The confidence, the slow, deep voice, everything about the way Colt talked gave me goose bumps. He spoke as if every eye was glue to him, and they were. Like he just knew no one would dare interrupt him, and no one wanted to.

“Well, that makes a lot of sense. See, Brandon, wasn’t so bad,” I say and give Brandon a little nod. Brandon just shakes his head and looks at his food. I was confused by his reaction, but didn’t care as Colt’s voice sent waves through my ears again.

“Or, its just my name: Colt.”

I giggle way more than I should have. Brandon notices and gives me a weird look, I look at Colt and he is just smiling, like he is totally used to it. “That’s clever. I didn’t even think of that,” I mumble as I take a sip of my water, clearly embarrassed. Colt’s eyes never leave mine, and my entire body tingles.

“So, Emma…” I put my drink down and tried to hold in my anticipation of what he was about to ask. “Enough about me. Tell me about you. What do you do when BP’s not around?” He stares at me with a look of complete intrigue in his eye. It is almost like Brandon isn’t even at the table. It is just Colt and me.

“Oh well,” I say flustered at him taking an interest in my life, “there really isn’t much about me.” I let out a little giggle. ‘C’mon, Em,’ I think to myself, ‘I haven’t giggled this much since grade school.’

“Oh, I’m sure there is. Take me through your day.” He leans back in his seat, but his gaze does not waiver, and I can’t take my eyes out of his. I realized at his words that my pussy was completely wet. ‘Am I this lonely or is he just this good?’

“Well,” I begin slowly, “my day normally consists of cleaning and cooking really. Then if I can, maybe going out to a bar with my girlfriends,” I add this just to seem like I am not a complete loser mom to Colt. I haven’t actually gone out in months. His phone vibrates again, and immediately my eyes drop to it. The name reads ‘Christine,’ but he doesn’t even notice. He keeps his gaze on me. I catch my breaths speeding up and try to control them.

“Where I assume you get hit on endlessly.” He smiles again. There is something about his smile that makes me want to tell him everything about me, but at the same time completely afraid of what he is doing to me.

“Oh, well, what can I say?” I say joking flipping my hair flirtatiously, still incredibly nervous wondering what was going on behind his gorgeous eyes. I look at Brandon’s seat and he has disappeared. He must have gone to the bathroom, but I was so transfixed with Colt that I didn’t even notice that he left. “But it doesn’t matter anyway because, alas…” I hold up my wedding ring finger and point to it, “I have a husband.”

Colt keeps his stare, but doesn’t say anything. I don’t want to seem weak so I keep the stare on him. I feel a wetness drip down my inner left thigh, as the silence grows intense. His phone vibrates one more time, and the name reads ‘Becca.’ Damn, this stud is seeing at least 3 different girls and couldn’t care less, as he makes no reaction to it. He leans forward and takes a drink. “So tell me about him.”

Even after all that, I was shocked by his boldness. “My husband?”

“Who else?” He gives an evil grin. I wish he’d stop doing that. It was driving me insane.

“He, uh, he…” I didn’t even know what to say. “He looks a lot like Brandon actually, especially when he was younger.”

“What about now?” he says almost interrupting my sentence. I can tell he is very interested.

“Well,” I look at Colt’s arms and chiseled chest stretching his t-shirt. “He has gained quite a bit of weight.” I notice Colt’s eyebrows rise at my comment. “I mean that just happens as you get older,” I say defending Clark, but more importantly defending myself. I didn’t want Colt to think I married a loser, and in that moment for the first time in my life, I started feeling resentment for marrying Clark. ‘Why couldn’t he have kept his weight under control?’ I thought.

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