Hands-On Affair

My name was Stefan Smith. I was a married man with a modestly successful career.

They said that women thrived in their thirties, while men started to fall apart. After all, we were faced with endless workdays and constant drinking at business dinners. It didn't take long before my performance in bed took a sharp decline. My body was nothing like it had been in my twenties.

Every time it came to doing my "duty", I felt dread. The next day, I'd inevitably have to drag myself to work or on a business trip, completely exhausted.

It was that time of the night again. My wife slipped into a set of sexy lingerie and climbed into bed. Her soft hands wandered all over my body.

Alara Golding was 26 years old this year. She was right in her prime. She had smooth, fair skin and incredible curves. That lace outfit only made it worse. Her long legs alone were enough to drive any man crazy.

When we first met, I used to lift those legs every night. We were so loud that the neighbors upstairs and downstairs couldn't sleep.

Now, all I could do was stare. I didn't have the strength anymore. Alara was just a few minutes in when I turned limp. There was no enjoyment in our sex life at all.

I lit a cigarette, looking at her frustrated, unsatisfied expression, and sighed to myself. She lay on top of me. Her body was still burning with desire.

We tried all kinds of methods, but nothing worked. I couldn't satisfy my own wife.

Alara complained softly in an almost pleading voice. "Baby, why don't you go see a good holistic doctor? I don't want to live like a widow for the rest of my life."

As a grown man, it would be humiliating if anyone found out I went to see a doctor for that kind of issue. So, I had always resisted the idea.

However, this time, she insisted. Her face flushed as she leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Baby, please, just do it for me. There's this famous men's physiotherapy clinic that just opened down the street. I heard their results are amazing."

As soon as she finished speaking, her warm tongue traced circles around my ear. The sensation made my body react again, but I'd already finished once earlier. When the stimulation continued, a faint sting followed.

I was only 30 years old. I didn't want to go the rest of my life without a happy sex life.

Since she was so insistent, I had no choice but to bite the bullet and go.

Early Saturday morning, Alara dropped me off at that well-known men's physiotherapy clinic at the end of the street.

I looked up at the flashing neon sign, feeling a little uneasy. Something about it didn't seem legitimate.

The receptionist was a man with a chubby face. His arms and neck were covered in tattoos. He didn't look like a good guy at all.

I felt a bit resistant. Everything about this man seemed sleazy.

He walked over with a wide grin and chuckled. "Here for some rehabilitation therapy, sir? Right this way."

Looking at me with that sly, somewhat even malicious smile, he added, "We do everything here. Whatever you can think of, we can do it."

I had been around long enough to understand exactly what he meant.

Alara had chosen this place herself. Could it be that they had fooled her with false advertising? However, since she had personally brought me here, the suppressed desire deep in my instincts quickly took over my thoughts.