The Marathon Ch. 02

Tori returned from the shopping trip out of sorts, understandably. Ever thoughtful, Paul perceived her flustered appearance and distracted demeanor as evidence of pre-race stress. Of course, the cause of her distraction was something much different.

Paul volunteered to read to the girls before bed, as he often did. He also, very considerately, encouraged Tori to soak in the tub and rest her legs up for the race in a few days.

Tori gladly accepted the offer. In part she needed the soak, but she also wanted to doll herself up for action with Paul later. The excitement from the shopping adventure had not worn off much since the afternoon. Her libido was running incredibly high.

While in the bath, Tori had her phone on the floor outside the tub. It pinged a few times early, which she ignored. After she had washed her hair and begun to soak, it pinged twice again. Comfortable and relaxed, she decided to mute the phone, but when she looked at the screen, she paused.

She had four notifications from an unknown number. She thought about the joke Rena had pulled earlier in the day, saying she had given Tori's contact info to the hunky clerk, then wondered if maybe it hadn't been a joke.

Without a lot of thought, Tori swiped open the phone, then went to her messages, opening the string of texts.

She nearly dropped the phone into the tub, startled by the images jumping out at her. In the first, a hand is holding an erect cock at its base, an enormous shaft and head protruding out above it. The caption says, "Looking at your photo, can't help myself."

In the second photo, his hand is near the head of the huge cock with precum spread across a finger.

In the third photo, he's holding up a large photo print of Tori's nude pic from earlier in the dressing room.

Tori's heart is racing as she scrolls down to the fourth image and sees that it's black with a play button in the center, obviously a video.

She nervously clicks on the video and the first few frames are dark. She hears a sound and immediately turns down her volume. The video lighting adjusts and she sees her nude photo sitting on a counter top and hears the unmistakable sound of a man groaning and a repetitive sound. The image pulls back and she gasps audibly. His huge cock comes fully into frame, glistening as he strokes the massive erect length with his hand. He continues the long strokes along the full length of his cock as Tori reaches down to her nipple, pinching it lightly, sending shivers down her whole body.

The man is groaning in the background as he quickens his pace and shortens his strokes. The entire long cock and photo are still within the frame and Tori has moved her hand between her legs, beginning to stroke her clit in circles. Tori masturbates along with the video for about thirty seconds, then presses pause as she hears a door down the hallway. She hears the distant sound of feet walking across the hall, presumably Paul going the bathroom. Shortly after, she hears the muffled sound of him walking back into the girl's room.

Nervous, but relieved, she closes her eyes to contemplate what is happening. In her head, she hears Rena's voice telling her that she deserves more thrill in her life. She also thinks back to her threesome with the Argentinian guys from the college ski trip.

Fired up again, Tori presses play on the video and sees that it has about two minutes left. She begins stroking herself again and resumes the video. The man continues his steady pace of masturbation, as she begins to quicken her efforts. She pauses for a few beats, resumes, then realizes she might orgasm well within those two minutes.

The man quickens his pace again, moaning and breathing in staggered fits. Tori notices the head of his cock has become nearly purple and the shaft is pulsing, with the vein bulging along the top as he strokes. She senses that he is about to cum and she furiously rubs on her clitoris. Normally, she can't take direct stimulation for long, but she is compelled to do it at the moment, enduring the over stimulation in order to force her climax.

Just as Tori is about to tip over her edge, the man groans on the video and the camera wobbles slightly. Tori gasps as a long rope of cum shoots out of the huge cock onto her naked picture, covering most of her rear and onto the side of her back in the enlarged photo. Tori muffles herself as she also cums. Three more long ropes of cum shoot out of the huge cock as Tori holds onto her mons as she rides out the after-waves of her orgasm.

He lays his huge, heavy cock down across the cum soaked photo of Tori, saying, "Next time, I want to do that with the real you, gorgeous." As the video ends, she clicks off the phone, drops it onto the bath rug and slides down into the water to soak. An overwhelming post-orgasm bliss spreads through her as she feels the warm water envelop her.

A few minutes later, as the water begins to cool, the reality of what just transpired begins to set in. She first wonders to herself how she would feel if the role was reversed with her and Paul. She knows that he masturbates frequently. Even with their relatively active sex life (for a working couple with kids), it was simple reality. She had, in fact, walked in on him more than once in relatively compromising situations, but she had made light of them each time, remarking that he better be working her into his fantasies.

When they talked about it at later points, he insisted that he did, in fact, have many fantasies about her. They discussed them casually, but not in depth. Most of the fantasies he described were vanilla, relatively superficial cliches like nurse or teacher or light exhibitionism. They'd enjoyed acting out a few of those, and Paul happily remarked that he would be coming to her with more ideas, since she seemed to be enjoying them as well as himself.

However, there's a stark difference in this situation, Tori admits to herself. Sexting was crossing a distinct line. Because Rena had sent the nude pic she couldn't claim to solely be on the receiving end and it was no longer entirely unsolicited. She would clearly draw the line with Paul over something similar, and should have done so herself.

Yet she felt so conflicted about the thrill and rush that she was feeling. She felt ten years younger in the moment. To feel like a wholly sexual being again was so gratifying and life affirming, surely, she reasoned, this would benefit them both.

Resolving to prove something and seize these feelings, she rationalized that they would help boost her relationship with her husband. She finished up her bath with a plan to rock Paul's world.

Tori was still revving with lust. She decided to test Rena's theory that her new swimsuit would get him going. She dried her hair out with a towel, put it up in a bun, then tried on the new suit. Her nipples were at attention and poking through, clearly visible. She admired the way she filled it out looking at herself in the mirror, feeling really good about her defined shoulders and arms with a visible six-pack for the first time since college. Turning to look at her rear, she slid the hems in slightly to expose more of her cheeks.

She dimmed the lights, but kept enough light on so Paul would be able to admire her when he walked into their room. Sitting at the edge of their bed, she was eager to put on a bit of a show for him.

The minutes ticked by and he was a no show. It was not unusual, often the girls would egg him on to read extra chapters. He was such a charismatic reader, able to voice characters and create the illusion of bringing the book alive that he was reading. After a half-hour had passed, Tori slipped on her robe and tiptoed down the hall to check on things.

The room was quiet, both girls were sound asleep, as was Paul. The book had slipped into his lap, and his head lolled back onto the chair. Tori stood for a moment just admiring this scene of familial bliss. She walked over and gently placed a pillow propping up Paul's head, covered him with a blanket, then turned off the lamp nearby.

As she slowly closed the door and quietly walked toward her bedroom, feelings of guilt invaded her mood again and wiped out the comfort she felt from seeing Paul with the girls. She chastised herself for indulging a ridiculous sexual fantasy while her family was nearby in such a wholesome scene. She resigned herself to delete all the photos and videos and block check-out guy. This would be a one-time dalliance, she said to herself.

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Tori felt happy on the crisp fall morning of race day, even if experiencing a bit of soreness in her shins. The adrenaline of the race had kicked in and she and Rena kept up a quick pace to start, keeping up respectably with more seasoned runners. They didn't talk much during the first half of the race, but the few exchanges they shared buoyed their happiness.

At mile fifteen her shins flared; it didn't affect their pace, but Tori took notice. By mile twenty, the pain was significant. She tried, but couldn't hide it from Rena, who made them stop and walk intervals of one minute for each five minutes of running. This helped out some and Tori felt hopeful that she could finish with the interval pacing. She begged Rena to go on without her, but her friend wouldn't leave her side.

It became an almost Sisyphean effort, with each progressive mile slower and more painful. By the end, Tori could barely jog a hundred yards at a time. Rena begged her to stop with a half-mile left, but Tori could not be deterred. For the final quarter-mile, another runner joined to help and they practically carried Tori up to the last stretch of the race near the finish.

Tori insisted on finishing the final hundred yards or so on her own. Paul and the girls were just past the finish line, watching on. At first they felt immense pride upon finally seeing her, but then noticed that something was seriously wrong. She was obviously laboring, barely lifting her feet in a shuffle walk. With twenty or so yards left, she collapsed to the ground and much of the crowd gasped. She then started to basically crawl. By the finish line, the crowd of several hundred were all cheering their loudest for the woman crawling over the line, but Paul and the girls watched in shocked silence. They had never even seen her so much as flinch from pain. She was the toughest person Paul had ever known. To see her in such a state was beyond worrying.

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The diagnosis was tibial stress fractures of both shins. She would get casts on both her legs and be on crutches for six weeks. With both legs non-functional, she wouldn't be able to drive or walk much.

The pain was unrelenting, difficult even for Tori. By the second week, she asked Paul to take her back to the doctor for an extension to her tylenol-II prescription. The doctor assessed her pain and declared her in extreme pain. She received Vicodin, a three-week supply.

She took her first dose immediately upon picking it up from the pharmacy on the way home. They had a fifteen-minute drive to home and by the time they got out of the car, she was able to alternate weight on her legs and made it inside the house on without assistance for the first time.

She felt an incredible sense of euphoria, savoring the relief and relaxation in her body. She instantly gained control back over her life, immediately thinking about going to bed early that night. After two weeks of severe pain and insomnia, she couldn't wait to get into bed to sleep. The next morning she woke up so relieved after her first full night's sleep in weeks that she was moved to tears.

The pain-free, blissful three weeks went by quickly. When the three-week supply ran out (a few days early, which she hoped the doctor didn't notice), she received an additional week's supply. She also received a lecture on the very real danger of opioid addiction, and an emphatic warning that it was her last prescription. Her casts were about to come off, and she was ecstatic to be able to drive and walk around on her own. The pain had been under control and she felt supremely confident about getting her life back in order.

The next week she was out of the casts and off the Vicodin, and it was a mixed bag. She wasn't sleeping as well, and even maxing out ibuprofen and avoiding caffeine she could only sleep a fitful 4 hours. She'd wake up in pain, palm more ibuprofen, and then get another hour or two of fitful sleep, if she was lucky. It was a grind, but she could feel some improvement in her legs and was able to force herself, literally, to limp through a month.

Then the physical therapy started and Tori felt the wheels starting to come off again.

A colleague at her office, a cross-fit enthusiast since its infancy, swore by a physical therapy practice near the office. Apparently, cross-fitters get injured a lot. Tori accepted the referral gladly and went to her first session the same week.

There were a group of three therapists and two assistants. The practice owner, Sean, met her on the first day. He was very well put together, an obvious athlete. He reminded Tori of Paul's younger brother James, who played soccer in college and semi-professionally in lower leagues for a few years.

Her first few sessions were very, very painful. Even though Tori tried her best to hide it, Sean could sense her pain was truly intense. By the third week, her recovery was faltering and she was again starting to have difficulty sleeping from the recurring pain. Sean refused to treat her after learning about all of the issues she reluctantly revealed, and advised her to go back to a doctor for a follow-up evaluation. Reluctantly, she did as he asked.

The doc said she was to resume rest-ice-compression-elevation or be on the fast-track to surgery. Tori said she would follow the advice but begged for help with her insomnia. The doc prescribed over-the-counter melatonin. It didn't work.

Tori was becoming desperate. Out of ideas, she stopped by the physical therapy office hoping to ask if they had any advice on sleep aids or pain relief. She told Sean she couldn't sleep even with maxed-out ibuprofen and melatonin. She had tried the PM versions of various painkillers as well, even Nyquil. Nothing was working she confessed, as she held back tears. She told him her doctor said she couldn't have more Vicodin, but that was the only thing that had worked to help her sleep.

Sean was a good listener and very sympathetic. She felt unsure about approaching the clinic before then, but his reassurance eased her anxiety.

Tori had always joked with Paul that if he ever kicked the bucket, she was going after his handsome, perennial-bachelor brother, James. Consequently, she felt self-conscious and a little awkward around his doppleganger Sean, catching herself staring at frequently. He had a bit of a David Beckham appearance with a laid-back demeanor that fascinated her. It felt like a school-girl crush at first, but it was becoming something more all of the sudden.

He offered her Endodan, as he said, "We've had many patients who have used it successfully to help with short-term pain management."

Tori accepted the pills, thinking that she'd give them a try, but really all she could think about was how careful she needed to be around Sean. She had to keep her guard up because he was becoming a bit of an obsession for her now.

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Pushing aside the distracting thoughts about Sean, Tori was relieved and optimistic again. She took the Endodan for a blessed, pain-free week.

By the end of the week, her pain subsided enough she felt she was able to resume the physical therapy. She was anxious about returning to the practice and seeing Sean, but she rationalized that she could focus on her recovery.

After the return appointment, she anxiously asked about another week's supply of the Endodan, but Sean said he was all out. She should come by the office the following day, a Saturday, after he received his supply around lunch.

"Aren't you closed weekends?" Tori asked.

"I do maintenance and paper work on Saturdays," he replied with a big smile that reassured her. "I'll be done with most of the work by lunchtime. Stop by anytime after that."

Tori asked Paul to chauffeur the girls on Saturday and he was more than happy to do so. Tori was feeling guilt and self-conscious about spending part of a weekend away from her family, but she desperately needed another week like the last.

She had slept only half the previous night without the Endodan, and knew the week would be unbearable without relief. Subconsciously, she was excited to see Sean again. She woke up frisky that morning, which Paul noticed and appreciated, but reluctantly rebuffed as he had to get out the door for an early with the girls.

Tori arrived at the physical therapy office just after lunchtime and hoped she wouldn't seem too eager. There was a note taped to the door telling her to come on in. She assumed Sean would be in his office, so she walked through in that direction. As she passed one of the treatment rooms, she noticed a light on in the back of the room. She walked toward the light and heard the sound of water running. She assumed that Sean was cleaning up from his lunch as she walked back to greet him.

Tori turned the corner and stopped still. In a mirror she saw Sean stepping out of a shower. Her face and upper chest flushed at the sight of this objectively wondrous specimen of man, dripping wet, stark naked. His reflection faced away from her and Tori took in the sight of his hard, muscular body. She gawked at his tight ass, thin waist, and well-defined back that formed a magnificent triangle of muscle in her view. Tori bit down on her lip as she strained to take a full breath.

She knew that she should hurriedly leave, yet she was frozen to the spot. She couldn't resist the temptation of staring at this gorgeous, naked man, who was casually drying his hair with a towel. She thought he definitely had the appearance of toned athlete with a muscular butt and powerful legs. As he rotated toward her, still with the towel to his head, she had to stifle an involuntary moan. She stared on mesmerized by his large cock hanging downward in a relaxed arc. It was as large now as Paul was erect, but much thicker. She immediately thought of the check-out guy's pics and thought they might be comparable.

"Oh. My. God," she silently mouthed, continuing to stare. She felt blood coursing through her body, becoming slightly light headed.

She realized that Sean might become aware of her presence and the thought jolted her into action. Tori quietly slipped out of the room and silently went back outside to her car.

Flushed and disoriented, Tori drove a few blocks to a gas station. She parked, shut off the car, and tried to calm down with slow deep breaths. She couldn't believe how exhilarating and nervous she felt. Adrenaline and endorphins pulsed through her. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the seat and just let her mind wander. The voyeuristic image of Sean's incredible physique as he turned towards her was playing through her mind in slow motion. It was all she could do not to touch herself in that moment, but the noise coming from the traffic and gas station were enough to bring her back to the present.

She sat there for several more minutes practically in shock. As the adrenaline started to wear off, the pain in her legs began to resurface. She had to get the meds or she would be a wreck by dinner. She took a series of deep breaths, then formed a plan to call Sean's office, pretending to be en-route. Sean picked up and sounded courteous and encouraging, confirming that the pills had arrived.

Walking back into the office was easier than Tori expected, she simply focused on the pain of each step in her legs and the relief she needed. She noticed first that Sean was fully clothed in a modest track suit, though she did allow herself a very brief moment to undress him in her mind. "Damn he is gorgeous," she allowed herself a quick thought, and then switched right back to thinking about the pills.