About a year ago, I hurt my knee at work. The doc sent me to therapy before deciding on surgery. When I met my therapist, Janet, she was a pretty brunette with eyes to die for. She was a couple of pounds overweight but still very pretty. We're both married, and I was in pain from my knee. We always made small talk during my sessions. As luck would have it, on my last appointment, we were alone in the office when it ended. I thanked her for all her help and said that her husband was a lucky man. She moved in close to me, and we exchanged a hug. She took my hand from her back and moved it lower down. As she said, "Okay?" we ended up kissing. One thing led to another, and we made our way to the therapy tub and undressed. I helped her in. When she sat on my lap, we began to have sex. When we finished, we cleaned up and again made our way to the office to sign me out. Again, we hugged and kissed, but this time that was all. I thanked her for ALL she had done, and left the office and Janet.
— Christopher, 45