Ted, the frat-boy salesman

Brandon is cute and seems like a nice guy, but he's too much like your husband. You can imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed after a roll in the sheets, just wearing his Pac Man boxer shorts and playing some video game your husband plays. No, you need to go in the opposite direction. A big, normal, jock. A man's man.

"Your muscles look really big," you say, interrupting whatever Ted was saying to you.

"Oh," he immediately puffs up. "You noticed? I didn't think my jacket really showed them off. I've been doubling my reps at Bodywork."

You know Bodywork. It's one of those elite gyms where people measure their body fat everyday, the weight equipment talks to you and the lockers are made out of exotic wood. Too pricey for your salary, but clearly Ted has been raking it in with his commissions.

"I can't really see your muscles, I just mean, well, you seem sturdier."

You inspect him and Ted doesn't mind. He is clearly proud of his physique. He takes off his jacket and drapes it over the wall of the nearest cubicle. Brandon gets his cup of coffee and retreats, obviously beaten by the chiseled alpha male.

"It's a total body routine," Ted explains, flexing. "I've developed a fifteen part weight routine, plus running, plus swimming, plus steam room. Plus blah blah..."

He goes on and on and you just smile and nod, tuning him out as you admire his incredible shoulders and neck and bulging biceps. He must be over thirty, but he has the body of a 20-year-old. What you wouldn't give to see him naked. You want him to pick you up in those big arms and pin you against the wall so you can wrap your legs around his waist and let him hammer you hard until you--

"Come with me," he says.

"Huh?" you snap out of it.

"I said, you should come with me. We can drive together to Bodywork. I go on my lunch hours. Don't you have some gym clothes?"

"In my trunk," you say. "But I don't know. I have a lot of spreadsheets to get through. I should probably stay in the office and work."

"I can help you spread-sheets." Ted steps closer to you, close enough that you have to look up at him. He's big and he smells good, like a man is supposed to smell, shaving cream and faint cologne and a touch of sweat. He puts his hand on your hip. "A good, hard, deep-muscle workout, full cardio, is exactly what you need to focus on your work."

He slides his hand around to your ass and gives it a squeeze. "I can put you through the paces and," squeeze, "make sure you get a satisfying workout."

Wow, this hunk just went from zero to two-hundred. You've got him hooked, but is this really what you wanted? Breaking your vows and running off to the gym to get plowed by Ted? You know that is going to end up getting you fired. No, you can still back out. You'll just tell him, "Some other time" to the trip to the gym and get back to your work.