Taking Shape

by SBrooks

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Cheating, .

Desc: Drama Sex Story: A husband gets himself into shape, changing his relationship with his wife.

My intent when I started this story was to do a bit of a reverse twist on the “Ugly Duckling/Swan” stories, where a wife who has always been in the background suddenly blossoms, whether through hard work or “enhancements,” and gets dazzled by her new-found attention.

I decided to have the husband transform himself, but I didn’t want to simply do a mirror-image of the usual stories, so I put my own twist on it.

For those who don’t know, “Skinemax” is a slang term for “Cinemax” do to their heavy soft-core programming.

Thanks to blackrandl1958 for her editing and advice, and Crkcppr and Todd_d172 for Beta reads.

My name is Kevin McCarthy; my wife is Gail.

When my story begins, we were both 27, married for six years, childless by choice. I won’t bore you with the details of how we got together. It was typical of thousands of other relationships: We met, hit it off, fell in love and got married.

At the time of our marriage, I would say that we were very average. Neither of us had to beat off the opposite sex with sticks, but children and dogs didn’t run off howling either.

We had sex a comfortable 3-4 times a week. It wasn’t exactly boring, but Skinemax wouldn’t be shooting a series about our sex life, either. We were usually in missionary, occasionally doggie-style, rarer still with her on top and don’t even think about anal. We both enjoyed it when I performed oral on her, oral on me was for special occasions only, and woe unto me if I came in her mouth!

After six years working behind desks, we were both getting a little out of shape. We weren’t exactly candidates for a fat farm, but that would be a distinct possibility if we didn’t do something.

“Gail,” I said, “I’ve been taking a good look in the mirror, and I’ve been developing a bit of a spare tire. I think I need to go on a diet, maybe take up jogging or join a health club or something.”

“That’s silly,” Gail said, “We’re not kids anymore, it’s normal to put on a few extra pounds as we get older, or is this your sneaky way of telling me that I’m getting fat?”

“No, not at all. I just think that it wouldn’t hurt for both of us to get in better shape.”

I thought she was going to throw something at me, but she just turned back to the stove.

Looking back over her shoulder she said, “You do what you want, just leave me out of it.”

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do to get her to help us eat healthier. The best that I could do was to refuse her high-cholesterol breakfasts, eat salads for lunch and reduce my portion at dinner.

I did begin jogging and joined a health club. I again tried to get Gail to join me, but she still refused, and not very politely either.

It was hard work! I had never played any organized sports, just the occasional pick-up basketball or softball game, and the only running I did was when I had to run to catch a bus. The gym was something else again; it was like walking into another world. I was intimidated by all the hard bodies and didn’t really know just where to start. Julie, one of the staff members, was very helpful. She showed me the various machines, how to use them and what parts of the body they worked. She reassured me not to be intimidated, that not everybody started out with a hard body.

One thing I discovered was that I loved running! Getting out in the fresh air, just going with the flow, I found that running cleared my mind. I often started a run stewing over a problem and had a solution by the end of the run.

At first, it was a little frustrating, I was busting my ass with little to show for it. Suddenly, it was like a dam breaking; I was able to do another set, or I had more of a kick at the end of my runs. I was beginning to see a difference in my body as well.

One strange thing I noticed was that as I got into better shape, Gail seemed to be less and less interested in sex. I would have thought that me being more hunky would have turned her on, but instead she seemed somehow threatened by it.

As I lost weight and built muscle, I realized that I needed a new wardrobe, which seemed to just make Gail still more resentful.

“Don’t you think we have better things to do with our money than spend it on new clothes?” she said.

I couldn’t think of a good response, so I just shrugged my shoulders and walked away.

I couldn’t help noticing the admiring glances from the women in the office, but despite Gail’s attitude I considered myself happily married and off the market.

I noticed Gail seemed to be getting depressed, and tried to talk to her.

“Gail,” I said, “what’s the matter? You seem so sad all the time. I worry about you, why won’t you talk to me?”

“It’s just that you look so young and handsome, while I’m just an old frump. I’m afraid I’ll lose you to some young tramp.”

“Gail, I keep telling you that you’re an attractive woman and I love you; but if you’re unsure of yourself why don’t you come to the club with me?”

“I’d be too embarrassed around all of those hard bodies...”

“Gail, first of all, they’re not all hard bodies, and most of them didn’t start that way; they had to work for it.”

“I’m sorry, Kevin, I just can’t!”

I was at a loss. I brought her flowers every week. At least once a week I went to her office to take her out to lunch. Then one day she shocked the shit out of me.

“Kevin, please don’t come to the office anymore.”

“Wh ... what? Why? I love having lunch with you.”

“It’s the way the other women gawk at you when you come in.”

“I thought you would like that, having the other women jealous of you.”

“At first I was, but the last time I was in a stall in the ladies’ room when I heard Sally and Jane talking.”

“So, what did they say that’s got you so upset?”

She was hesitant to speak, so I put my arm around her, pulling her close.

She started crying, and I could barely understand her through her sobs.

“Th ... they were saying things like, ‘What is a hunk like that doing with a schlump like Gail?’ ‘Boy, I’d like to give him a ride, but he doesn’t even seem to see anyone but her.’”

“Why do you care what they think,” I said, “Besides, didn’t you hear what they said? You’re the only one for me. I see what’s beneath the surface, and that’s the woman I love, the only woman I’ll ever love.”

I pulled her a little tighter, giving her a tender kiss on the top of her head, as she cried herself to sleep right there on my shoulder.

I was at a loss. Obviously, I wanted her to get in better shape, but only for her health and self-confidence. My love for her was unconditional; it wasn’t predicated on her looks. She was a contradiction, upset and lacking in confidence in her appearance, but unwilling to do anything about it.

What was worse was that our sex life, which had already been deteriorating, was getting even worse. Nothing I tried worked. I bought her sexy lingerie that she refused to wear; I got scented massage oils to give her sensual massages and she fell asleep!

I’ll admit to getting frustrated, but I believed strongly in fidelity and in our marriage vows, including, “for better and for worse.”

We muddled along for a while; despite my frustration, I kept trying to reassure and encourage her, but it was a losing battle.

My office Christmas party was approaching, and over her objections, I took Gail shopping for a nice dress. It was quite uncomfortable at the party. Gail could barely let go of my arm; the only times she let go were when one of us had to use the restroom or when I went to the bar. Her eyes kept darting around, eyeing the other women jealously, her anger barely contained if she thought anyone was giving me the eye.

She grudgingly danced a few dances with me, and we spent the rest of the evening just watching the other couples dance.

While we sat there, Sharon Gomes, one of associates, came over.

“Excuse me,” she said to Gail, “would you mind if I had a dance with your husband?”

“Whatever,” Gail said unhappily.

“Would you like to have a dance, Kevin?” Sharon asked.

“No, thank you,” I said, “I’ll stay here with Gail.”

This happened a few more times, and Gail just seemed to get madder and madder.

“Kevin, I’m tired,” she said finally, “Please take me home.”

“Of course, Honey,” I said, “I’ll go get our coats.”

In the car on the way home she got nasty.

“Why didn’t you dance with those sluts,” she snarled, “You obviously wanted to!”

“That’s not true, Honey,” I said, “I only wanted to be with you, that’s why I kept saying no to them.”

“Then why did they keep coming over? They’re probably having a good laugh over Kevin’s fat cow wife!”

“Gail, they were just being friendly. They saw that we weren’t dancing and thought that I might want to dance while you were resting.”

“Yeah, right, ‘friendly, ‘ I’ll just bet!” she said turning her back to me and staring angrily out the side window.

We rode the rest of the way home in an uneasy silence. The car barely came to a stop in the driveway when she jumped out and slammed the door. She was in the house, slamming the front door before I could even get out of the car. Although I had my house keys, I was glad that she at least didn’t try to lock me out.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Heterosexual / Fiction / Cheating /