Its Saturday morning. I’ve told my husband I’m going for a work out, some shopping then meeting a friend for lunch. He stays in bed and informs me he’ll be just chilling at home. I’m wearing my tightest form-fitting jeans which end just below my belly button, and a tight t shirt which ends just above. Instead of going to my gym, I go to the gym of M’s ex. I’m feeling really naughty because here I am lusting after this guy all this time, and I’ve just realized I don’t know his name. Not a clue.
I realize I’m obsessing about him. After all, here I am going to his gym, but I fully realize there’s a very good chance he won’t be there. I don’t even have a membership for this gym.
When I arrived there, I ask for a tour of the facilities. Perhaps I’ll run into him this way. Alas, in spite of the tour, no such luck. I stall and ask a lot of questions, but he doesn’t appear.
They want me to sign up for a membership, but I decline. I can’t tell them I had different motives.
I walked a couple of blocks and then thought that perhaps I should have gotten a membership after all – perhaps something on a monthly basis. Maybe, I was thinking, I’m giving up too easy.
It begins to sink in that deep down inside, I’ve reached the point where I am now walking down the road towards wanting to be an unfaithful wife.
I start to walk back. I begin to have my first conscious debate with myself as to whether or not I would be unfaithful if I somehow manage to meet this stud. I realize that every action I’m taking is opening myself up to this possibility.
A pang of guilt hits. But then I realize that for the past number of months I’ve been totally fixating on another man’s penis, and that I don’t see a way to stop thinking about it. And then I start to think that really and truly, the only way to end this obsessive fixation is to indulge it just once. You know, it’s quite possible I won’t like it. It’s quite possible I’ll find the guy a jerk. But going through with it, just once, is what I’ll need to end it – and this one fling will allow me to get back to my normal self.
I’m now back at the entrance to the gym. I hesitate on going in. I’m feeling a little ashamed. There is no sign of this guy. I don’t know when or if he’ll ever be working out here. And here I am willing to spend some money on a gym that’s not convenient for me just in the hopes that we will meet, hook up, and mate once and only once.
I’m ashamed that my fixation has taken me to this. Gym bag in hand I build up my resolve, and turn away from the gym. For the first time, I feel like I’m beginning to get the better of my fixation. I feel silly. I can’t be joining a gym that I’d rarely be able to use. My common sense finally won the day.