Author's note: If you couldn't tell by the title, there is unfaithfulness present in this story, to a degree that would be infuriating to some. I would recommend against reading this if that's something that may bother you. This story is also a story in a traditional sense; it's not just a quick fantasy fuck. I almost categorized it under Literotica's 'Novel and Novellas' heading, but ultimately decided it was too tightly focused on sex and seduction to fit there. Still, set your expectations accordingly. The third act in particular gets a little heavy; stick to the first two parts if you want something less complicated.
Last warning--the main characters are not paragons of virtue. This story is not designed to illustrate any kind of ideal, but rather capture a more realistic view of two coworkers who become closer than they should. The characters aren't meant to be likeable, but they are critical to the story, flaws and all.
And the usual disclaimers: all characters are fictional, similarities to real-world people/events are purely coincidental, everyone involved is of legal consenting age, etc.
My name is Ian. This is the story of some of the hottest sex I've ever had. I don't say that lightly--I've been with over a hundred woman in my life. I know your first reaction is to be skeptical, but it's true. It helps that I follow the two classic internet rules of how to get girls: 1. Be attractive and 2. Don't be unattractive.
I've been told I look like a more approachable version of Ivan Drago from the old Rocky movies. I'm a big guy, at around 6'5" and at the risk of sounding immodest, I'm built. I'm not as beefy as Ivan--no man is without major steroids--but I'm a personal trainer (part-time, at least) and spend a lot of my time working out.
Good looks are extremely helpful in getting women, for the confidence boost if nothing else, but they're not enough on their own. At least, not for my numbers. You also need to be able to connect with women; show interest in their interests; anticipate their turn-ons and turn-offs, understand what they want from sex, and so on. Experience and willingness to be turned down is also critical. I've had at least as many failures as successes, but I've learned how to deal with rejection.
But the biggest secret to sleeping with lots of women is to broaden your standards. I'm thirty-two now, but when I was younger, I only wanted to sleep with 9s and 10s. That was fine for a while, but everything changed one night after I slept with a 6. I won't go into details now, but that night changed my life. At the time, it was the best sex I'd ever had. I couldn't believe how much this 6 had outshone the other objectively more attractive women. I thought maybe it was a one-off, but after a few more 6s, I realized it wasn't.
It took me a bit to figure out why 6-sex was so much better, but I've developed a few theories. First, 6s are more appreciative when a guy like me shows interest in them. 9s and 10s take it for granted, but for these 6s, I may be the only 10 who's ever approached them. Second, 6s generally know they're 6s, and they've developed in other ways to make themselves more attractive. 9s and 10s usually coast on their looks, but 6s tend to be more interesting. My last theory ties these two other theories together: because 6s don't usually get to be with 10s, and because they don't rely on their looks alone, they're usually better lovers. They realize that a 10 fucking them might be a once-in-a-lifetime event, and they show it.
Once I realized this, I expanded my range from exclusively 9s and 10s to 5s and up. And the amount of women I was sleeping with skyrocketed. I admit it's a bit reckless to sleep with so many women, (especially without condoms whenever possible), but I don't have any kids yet--at least as far as I know. I have had an infection or two, but nothing incurable. Well, besides herpes, but everyone has herpes these days. Most of the time you can't even tell.
But enough about me. Let me introduce you to the woman who would become my favorite partner: Cassi.
Cassi was a coworker of mine at the outpatient physical therapy clinic I work at. Well, technically, she's kind of my boss because she's a physical therapist, and I'm just a PTA (aka an assistant). But she usually worked at one of our sister locations, so when she did cover a shift at ours, she didn't pull rank on me.
When I first met Cassi, I thought she was a 5, and an uninteresting one at that. Cassi is a bit older than me, at 36. Physically, she's on the taller side (maybe 5'11") with long straight red hair that falls halfway down her back. But she looked very lanky, especially in her loose-fitting scrubs, and I prefered my women with a bit more meat on them. She also didn't wear any makeup, which didn't do her any favors. I know many guys say they prefer no makeup... but trust me, most of them prefer light makeup and just think it's no makeup. Still, I'd slept with other 5s before, but they usually had redeeming qualities.
I didn't see that in Cassi. She was a chatter, but it seemed like all she talked about was her family and her church. She was happily married to her high school sweetheart, Joseph, and they had two perfect angel sons who were now in middle school. They spent a lot of their free time volunteering and going on mission trips together. I died a little any time I was sucked into one of these conversations.
If things had gone differently, it was entirely possible I never even would have given Cassi a second thought. But then Casual Friday happened, and everything changed.
As I mentioned, Cassi didn't usually work at my clinic. She filled in once every month or two on average, when another physical therapist needed time off. This is how I'd gone a year knowing Cassi without ever seeing her in anything other than loose scrubs. But one Friday, she had a shift to cover, and instead of her usual scrubs, she came in wearing jeans and a T-shirt.
When I laid eyes on this new Cassi, I didn't even recognize her at first. Not to be overdramatic, but it was like she was a completely different person. Yes, Cassi was still skinnier than I normally preferred, but I could now see she had curves after all. Her ass wasn't large, but her frame made it seem bigger by comparison. Plus, her tight jeans emphasized how well-shaped it was. Cassi had breasts too. They were a B-cup at most, but again, on her frame, they were noticeable.
She also had put on some light makeup, and her slightly splotchy skin now looked smooth and flawless. Plus, she had done something with her eyeliner that made her blue eyes really stand out, in a piercingly attractive way. Ironic that the first time I'd seen her in makeup was on Casual Friday, but I wasn't complaining.
Seeing Cassi transform like this was an epiphany for me. If Cassi had been hiding herself physically like this, maybe there was more to her personality too than #faithandfamily. I decided to find out.
At lunch, I made sure to sit across from her, and unlike my usual strategy of avoiding chatting with her at all costs, I initiated a conversation. After some light small talk, I transitioned to my hidden purpose--digging for signs of a real person under Cassi's boring veneer.
"Hey Cassi, I just realized I've known you for about a year now, and I still don't know much about you. I mean, I know about your church and family, but I mean you personally. Do you have any hobbies?"
Cassi looked at me thoughtfully, putting her fork down from the salad she'd been eating. "Oh man. I have more hobbies than I have time for these days." She smiled wistfully as she turned her full attention to me. It was like she had just been waiting for someone to ask her that question.
"Let's see. I run quite a bit, and I like hiking too. Disc golf is a lot of fun, but I don't get to do that much anymore. I bake--I've been making our own bread for years now. I like to read..."
"Oh yeah? Any favorite authors or genres?" I interjected.
She looked around conspiratorially and leaned in towards me. In a low voice, she said, "Don't laugh, but I actually really like Stephen King."
I laughed. "Stephen King? The guy who wrote all those horror stories about killer clowns and killer dogs? You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"
Cassi shook her head at me, as if she was annoyed at my disbelief, but she kept smiling. "I told you not to laugh. But yes, that Stephen King."
I stared at her, still trying to decide if she was messing with me. "I'm sorry. I just can't picture Little-Miss-Innocent Cassi reading those kinds of stories. No offense, of course."
"See, you're not the first person who's told me that," Cassi said, jabbing her fork at me pointedly. "But what none of you understand is that Stephen King's not really a horror writer. I mean, he is, but he's a actually a character-author first and foremost. He just uses horror situations to bring out different sides of the people he's created."
