As part of my recovery from a hip-fracture, I was given physiotherapy. Once a week I had to drive 30 miles to a hospital, have the physio and then drive back. Driving was quite painful, there had to be a better way. I turned to Google. Quite close to my home, was a private physiothrapy practice. I gave them a call and explained my problem. "Yes," said the receptionist. "We are taking new clients." She told me the charges and gave me an appointment. The premises was part of a 'business park' on the edge of town. I rang the bell. The door was opened by an attractive thirty-something female in a white coat, wearing a surgical mask. She had lovely eyes. She introduced herself as Sylvia. She handed me a mask, asked me to sanitise, took my temperature, completed the formalities and then asked me to follow her. She led me to a room with a massage table and what looked like gym equipment. She told me to undress down to my underpants and left. Five minutes later she was back. She was not only the receptionist, but also the physiotherapist. She felt her way around my pelvis, locating the swollen area and in doing so caused a nearby part to become swollen. Lets face it, it was my hip that I had broken, not my cock. It was simply doing what it was designed for. And she was quite tasty. To my embarrassment, the more she touched me, the more swollen it became until it was tenting my tight-fitting hipster shorts. I apologised. "It happens sometimes." She replied. She ignored it, but it certainly did not ignore her. She finished her work. My tent pole would not go away. She nodded towards it and said; "You can wank off if you like." I was gobsmacked. After few seconds, I managed to stammer; "Really? You don't mind." "Why should I mind?" She said. "Its natural. I'm a married womam, otherwise I'd do it for you. But I like to see a man wank." I slipped my shorts down and wrapped a hand around my straining organ. Since my accident, solo sex was the only kind that I had enjoyed, and even wanking had been uncomfortable. This would be the first time for more than a week. Sylvia moved nearer for a better view. She watched, I wanked. It was over very quickly. Too quickly. I could have edged, I should have edged. But at least it was one of my better efforts, spunk fountained out, spattering my belly and chest, and also the massage table, which fortunately was protected by paper sheets. Sylvia handed me tissues to clean up and left me to get dressed. Back in the reception area, she was back to being the efficient receptionist. I made an appointment for the same time the following week and left in a bit of a daze. I could not get Sylvia out of my mind, whenever I closed my eyes, she was there, but without the white coat. Instead she wore white stockings, suspenders and high heels. No bra, no knickers. Fine firm tits jutted from her chest. She still wore the surgical mask. The (presumably) lovely Sylvia, became the object of my masturbatory fantasies for the entire week. And boy, did I wank. I was back at work, so that kept me busy during the day, but every night in bed and on waking, I performed my five finger excercise. At the weekend, I wanked myself raw. At last it was Tuesday. Sylvia day. I presented myself early. There was no mention of last week's extras, she did her thing, fingers brushing tantalisingly close to my cock on several occasions, but apart from minor stirring, the sleeping giant slept. "Not pleased to see me today then?" She quipped. Whereas last week I had apologised for my uncontrollable erection, this week found myself apologising for my uncontrollable intumescence. "I haven't seen it slack," she said. "Get it out." How I would have liked to have met this woman under different circumstances! I did as she asked and started to play with it. Under her gaze, it rose to the occasion. But I could not come. Sylvia turned away, shrugged the white coat from her shoulders and turned back. She was bra-less. Her tits were smaller than I had imagined, high and firm. Pert. With small, stiff, brown nipples. Her knickers were white and sensible. She wore white holdups. Her shoes also were sensible. But it did the trick, the sap began to rise. When I came, accompanied by a massive sigh of relief, there were a few spurts of almost clear fluid. And my sore cock immediately shrivelled to a damp maggot. I had been seriously overdoing it. I could sense Sylvia's dissapointment, but she said nothing, instead handing me a single tissue, which said it all. She put the white coat back on and left the room. I was determined to make ammends on my next visit and thottled right back on the self abuse. I presented myself the next Tuesday with a full tank. The nature of the appointments had changed. The first appointment had been an assessment, being given an appropriate excercise regime, followed by massage. Now it was a very short assessment followed by massage. I stripped to my underpants, hesitated, then peeled them off. Surely the modesty requirement was past. I even removed my socks. I climbed onto the massage table naked and lay on my back. Sylvia kept me waiting, my imagination took over and I soon had a towering erection. Sylvia chose that moment to walk in. She paused, eyebrows raised, then told me to turn over. She set about her manipulations. By the time I turned back, common sense and flaccidity had returned. She pulled my legs into various unlikely positions and finished with the massage. Cocky was at attention once more. She stood back, arms folded. After a few seconds, she said; "Well, what are you waiting for?" "Stimulus." I replied. She unzipped the white coat and discarded it. No bra, instead of sensible knickers was a minimal, white thong. White holdups still, but this time, high heels. "I should charge extra for this," she said. "Dont imagine that all my clients get this treatment. You mustn't touch me, if you do, I'll use this. " She indicated a pendant around her neck, I had thought it was jewelry. And I am not supposed to touch you, other than the parts that I'm supposed to be treating. But if I wear these, I will not be touching you." She produced a pair of surgical gloves and a tube of lubricant. Guys, get youself wanked be someone wearing rubber gloves. It was among the most erotic experiences of my life. She was good. My ejaculation easily matched my home-made one lying on that very couch. Cum flew over my shoulder and landed on the floor beyond the couch. She handed me several tissues. I did not make an appointment for the next week, I had a prior engagement back at the hospital. They declared me fully recovered. Whether I continued with the private physio was up to me. So here's the dillemma: Should I continue seeing Sylvia, a married woman whose face I have never seen, but was falling in love with?