A Gullible Wife's Personal Trainer

This story will include plenty of NTR, extremely unrealistic gullibility and more. Furthermore, as this story leans heavily on images, the wife in this story will be based on Sofia Vergara, the actress, however I have taken the artistic liberty to include images of other celebrities in this story. If any of these things turn you off, please leave now.

With that out of the way, let's begin!

My name is John Geofferie and if there is one man that I hate more than any other man in the world, it's Robert Munroe, AKA Rough Rob. He was my highschool bully and despite his fat, ugly stature, he managed to earn his nickname almost purely from beating me up in fights. After highschool, I thought I could escape him forever, but last week, he sent me the following images:

Confused? That perfect, latina woman is my wife (her name's Rachel, btw). And before you ask, yes. Rob did take those photos himself. It's a long story, one that I'd rather not talk about, but since you want to know so badly, I guess I should share the details.

It all started the week before Rachel's birthday, when I was desperately searching for ideas for a birthday present for her when she returned from her weekly grocery shopping trip, our dog running to greet her. She looked gorgeous trudging across our front lawn in her loose, blue, flowy, tie-die top.

Strangely enough, she didn't notice the dog yipping at her feet. I looked at her face, trying to discern what was on her mind. Something seemed to be wrong. Noticing the frown on her face, I asked her what wrong.

"It's just my body." Rachel replied, continuing "People at the shops were staring at me. I think it's because I've put on a lot of weight."

I took in the shape of her body. She was delusional. It was obvious that her body was still as perfect as always. Nonetheless, her opinions weren't surprising to me. She was as dumb as she was hot. I tried to calm her worries, "No, I'm sure that you're just being paranoid. They were probably looking at something else."

"Maybe" Rachel said with a shrug. Finally, she bent over to give the dog a pat. It was at that moment that I knew exactly why people at the store were staring at her: She was bent over - in a way reminiscent of the way she would have bent to reach the lowest shelves at the shops - and her shirt had ridden up to reveal her smooth, pale back.

I took the view in as she played with the dog, the jiggling causing her shirt to ride up higher.

Rachel was practically topless. Now her slim figure, seductive belly and large, perky breasts were in full view. Anybody passing by would be able to see her tits in their full glory. A pang of jealousy struck me as I realised that countless people could have already seen them in the grocery store; this was a view that my conservative wife rarely afforded even me. In a way, it was my fault, she would've been wearing a bra if I'd remembered to take them off the clothesline before it rained. Furthermore, I knew for sure that my wife would've flashed the entire store; she was dumber than a pile of bricks.

Suddenly, I smiled and rushed into the house. I knew what to gift my 'body paranoid' wife. If she believed that people were staring because she was 'fat' then I could try impress her with the present of gym training sessions. It wasn't long until I found something perfect, a company named 'Determined Individuals Conditioning Klub'. They offered in-home services tailored to wives like mine who think they are getting worse as they get older: their slogan was 'taking your woman to the next level'. I smiled as I watched my wife walk into the house, groceries in hand. I was sure that she'd love the present.

Little did I know, I'd come to hate the present more than anything in the entire world.