Liplovinman
who knows?
- Joined
- Sep 29, 2010
- Posts
- 5,154
Wilson Welton was feeling his age. Despite his rampant attempts to turn back time, his body was defying his needs. This was the second time his knee had given him issues on the racquetball court, and he had so wanted to wipe the floor with the new VP of Finance. He was an arrogant asshole, sarcastic as the day was long. When Martin had approached Wilson, asking if his 50 year old frame could hold up to a game, taunting him with 'taking it easy on the old guy', he strapped up and headed for the court.
It didn't help that Martin's attractive wife was waiting for him, she looked put out with Martin, and the smile she flashed to Wilson had little life in it. She was a redhead though, and Wilson had a thing for the fiery hair. He had snuck a glance in her direction and saw her playing with her lipstick. Poor thing needed something much bigger than that puny little thing to make her happy, he thought. Wilson knew better than to get distracted, but the lady was a very memorable sidetrack. It cost him dearly. He misjudged the returning ball, reacted late and tumbled into the glass, nearly planting his ass against it. It must have been a laugh for Martin's wife - he couldn't look in her direction.
As much as Wilson hated to forfeit, he could not put enough weight on his left knee to play, despite a tight wrap. Just what he needed, his own body giving up on him. Martin sucked as a winner, gloating about that he had taken out his opponent, snarking that Wilson never stood a chance anyway.
While Martin showered, Wilson gingerly stepped to the nearest gallery chair and sat for a moment, hearing the orthopedist in his head. "What the hell WERE you thinking?" He had no idea, really, he'd certainly let his heart out think his body.
(looking for a female to play Martin's wife, her story is your own to provide. Please message an opening if you are interested)
It didn't help that Martin's attractive wife was waiting for him, she looked put out with Martin, and the smile she flashed to Wilson had little life in it. She was a redhead though, and Wilson had a thing for the fiery hair. He had snuck a glance in her direction and saw her playing with her lipstick. Poor thing needed something much bigger than that puny little thing to make her happy, he thought. Wilson knew better than to get distracted, but the lady was a very memorable sidetrack. It cost him dearly. He misjudged the returning ball, reacted late and tumbled into the glass, nearly planting his ass against it. It must have been a laugh for Martin's wife - he couldn't look in her direction.
As much as Wilson hated to forfeit, he could not put enough weight on his left knee to play, despite a tight wrap. Just what he needed, his own body giving up on him. Martin sucked as a winner, gloating about that he had taken out his opponent, snarking that Wilson never stood a chance anyway.
While Martin showered, Wilson gingerly stepped to the nearest gallery chair and sat for a moment, hearing the orthopedist in his head. "What the hell WERE you thinking?" He had no idea, really, he'd certainly let his heart out think his body.
(looking for a female to play Martin's wife, her story is your own to provide. Please message an opening if you are interested)
