- The author describes the intimate liaisons with several international sports stars
He walked over and wiped away the droplets of water that had settled on my cleavage. I took a sharp breath in. ‘Did that feel nice?’ he asked.
I looked at him. I knew I should say: ‘No, it didn’t. Stop wasting time and get in the water.’ Instead I smiled and replied ‘Yes’ in my most seductive voice.
That’s when he kissed me so hard it made me step back. ‘I fancied you the first time I saw you,’ he murmured. So who was the man with whom I had this sizzling rendezvous?
If I was to describe him physically, or give any detail about his professional achievements, you’d certainly know his name.
Because he is a world-famous sportsman – an England cricketer of some renown. And I was his physiotherapist.
This particular incident took place while I was trying to get him into an ice bath, as part of his rehabilitation for an injury. Little did I imagine that the bath would end up being used for a rather more different purpose.
You may wonder what it’s like to have a fling with a sportsman of this calibre: so young, so confident and at the utter peak of their muscled, physical prime.
Well, if anyone can tell you, I can. Because I spent decades working with international sportsmen as a leading physiotherapist, and I have had many affairs with some of the biggest names in sport – two of the world’s best tennis players and several famous rugby players among them.
All that seduction has inspired my new memoir, which is out today. Forget Fifty Shades Of Grey; as my book reveals, it’s more Fifty Shades Of Physio.
Little wonder, then, that many sportsmen are more than a little nervous about the publication of my book.
Usually married, with a fortune and reputation to protect, the last thing they want is for the secrets I’ve held for so many years – from their sexual proclivities to the truth about their physical attributes – to be revealed.
Indeed, six of them phoned me only this week, eager for me to keep the details of our love‑making under wraps.
But, then, all sportsmen have one thing in common. I’ve worked on football World Cups, Ashes Tours and with no fewer than three Olympic teams, and can tell you these men are, to an individual, incredibly highly sexed.
All that testosterone, all that adrenaline… it’s perhaps only surprising that I didn’t have more tete-a-tetes than I did!
I’ve made love in every place imaginable: from a swimming pool at the Olympics to the middle of Lord’s Cricket Ground.
But while I’ve enjoyed each and every one of my encounters, this certainly wasn’t how I thought my life would pan out when I started my career.
My background was solid, quiet, middle class. Dad was a doctor, and I always thought I’d follow in his footsteps and study medicine.
When I was young, he’d talk to me about life at the hospital. Sometimes I would go to work with him and I grew up wanting to emulate him.
But thanks to a mix of a teenage rebellious streak, several bad boyfriends and my dad dying when I was only 13, I was rewarded with some rather disappointing exam results. All of a sudden, my much-hoped for medical career was no more than a distant dream.
‘You can re-sit them,’ Mum told me. ‘It’s no problem.’
But it was a problem for me. As a frustrated teenager living at home in a sleepy village, weighed down by expectations and memories of a great father, this was the last thing I wanted. I yearned to move out, to meet new people.
I looked through all the medical courses. Perhaps there was a low-ranking university somewhere desperate for numbers?
But no. Even those institutions demanded A grades. Then I realised I had the right grades for physiotherapy. That sounded fun.
I didn’t know much about the discipline before I started the course, but loved it from the beginning. I was fascinated by its medical rigour and delighted by the hands-on nature of the job. I wanted to be the best sports physiotherapist I could.
And I genuinely believe I was – and still am – great at my job.
After graduation, I travelled the world, visiting the Australian Institute of Sport, working with a leading boxer in the U.S. and then moving into the world of elite sport. I defy anyone to say that I didn’t give my professional all.
My first sexual experience as a sports physio came more than 20 years ago when I was working with a rugby player and he lightly touched my thigh as I worked on his injury.
He apologised, and I told him it was fine. He did it again, and I didn’t move his hand. Slowly, his fingers moved higher up my skirt and into the lace of my knickers. From there, we were off.
It usually followed the same pattern when it came to those whom I treated and later slept with. Indeed, there were often only a few short stages between sharing a first secret smile or a gentle touch to test the water, and the wild lovemaking session that followed.
I should make it clear immediately, however, that there was never any suggestion any man coerced me or abused their position. If I ever said ‘no’, that ‘no’ was listened to. I was very happy with everything that happened and encouraged many of the advances that came.
Maybe I’m highly sexed, but I adored it… all those gorgeous, manly men, their incredible bodies and a job which required me to touch them in the most intimate of places.
All in all, I suppose I had flings with around 24 sportsmen. Not every encounter went all the way, but I usually had a lot of fun. I was young, it was clandestine — and compared with ‘civilian’ love-making, sex with sportsmen was often fantastic.
The most thrilling experience I had was a threesome with two Premier League footballers. I know footballers have a bad reputation for how they treat women, but this night was simply gorgeous.
There was also a wonderful evening in Sydney on some gym mats with a tennis player, and some rather explosive sex in a pool with an Olympic swimmer. I had a truly great time, and can’t pretend I didn’t, even if others might be judgmental.
I suppose I am a very sensual person. That drive has lasted, even though I’m now in my 50s and a married mother of a teenager.
I still adore sex and feel irritable if I don’t make love regularly. In fact, I’m more highly sexed than my husband, whom I married around ten years ago, which makes it difficult sometimes, although I would never be unfaithful.
Back then, though, a lack of sex was never really a problem. I would end up sleeping with some of the sportsmen every time I treated them.
Perhaps if circumstances had been different, we might have ended up having an actual relationship, but the nature of my job and the men’s sporting commitments meant we were always flying off around the world in different directions.
I know there are those who will criticise me because some of the sportsmen were married when we had our nights of passion; it’s all too easy to blame the woman when there’s a sex scandal. But I wasn’t married at the time. I was single. And I figured that if the men could do it, so could I.
Frankly, I’m not interested in all that double-standards rubbish. Those men who stood up in church and vowed to be faithful to one woman are the ones who should be criticised – not me. If I’m in a relationship, I stay faithful.
As soon as I met the man who would become my husband, my flings stopped. As I said, I would never, ever be unfaithful to him. And, in fact, he knows all about my past.
I accept that when my experiences are written one after the other, as they are in my book, they read like a catalogue of sexual activity, bouncing from one man to the next. But these encounters were spread out over decades – and I turned down as many advances as I responded to.
Some of the requests that were made of me were quite incredible. Many of those sportsmen you watch and admire on television have asked me to do things that are truly shocking. Goodness knows, I’ve seen enough misbehaviour from the sportsmen I worked with.
The worst bunch in terms of sexual misbehaviour were undoubtedly the rugby stars. Rugby tours were an absolute nightmare because all the players were highly sexed. Some of the things they got up to are unrepeatable. Needless to say, I’d never have married a rugby player.
I suppose the psychology behind the players’ actions is that they bond by acting like teenagers let loose for the first time.
There’s a strong ‘what goes on tour, stays on tour’ mentality. When things are happening that have to stay within the group, the walls of the group grow stronger.
Not once did I see coaches trying to stop the players from indulging in extra-marital sex.
Before a tour starts, the players often get to vote on whether their wives and families will be invited to join them. In the voting I witnessed – for a rugby tour and a club football tour – they voted against inviting the wives and girlfriends because it affected ‘team bonding’, though sometimes there’s a compromise and the other halves will stay in a different hotel.
Team bonding? The truth is it’s all about men at the top of their game – with fame, looks and money – having the time of their lives.
I’ve known some of the WAGs – some are nice, and some are very snooty and unpleasant. I don’t suppose they’ll like my book very much! But it’s the reality of what some of their husbands get up to when they are not around.
The truth is, many sportsmen think they’re immune from normal standards of behaviour. My first proper boyfriend was a pilot; he thought he was the most important person on this earth. You multiply that by one million when you deal with sports stars.
Women queue up to sleep with them. Of course, some players want to take up the offers. And, of course, it all feels much safer if it’s someone close to home, like me, because I know the unwritten rules. I would never kiss and tell.
As I told those six sportsmen who called me this week, I won’t ever reveal the names of those men with whom I had sexual relationships.
Many sports have changed over the years and are now much more professional, but that underlying sexual tension still exists around sportsmen and women. Why else would they give out half a million condoms at the Olympic Games, as they did in Rio de Janeiro?
I’m still involved in physiotherapy, but not with sports any more.
When I look at pictures of myself back then, I can see how attractive I was. I had an amazing figure – a tiny waist with a lovely cleavage. Today, I’ve had a son, who’s now a teenager, and I’m older. Bodies change. But I still attract glances from men.
I have a very quiet existence these days, but every so often I look back and smile to myself. It was such an incredible adventure.
‘I should write all that down,’ I used to think. So, I did.
The Sports Physio is published today (Anonymous Publishing; £2.99 for e-book and £6.99 for the paperback version). It is available to purchase on Amazon here.
