I'm about the poorest judge of women on the planet. I must have neon lights on my forehead that flash "Fuck Over Brent Stromberg," because that appears to be my plight in life.
Since I'm told I'm a very good looking guy, I've never had TROUBLE ATTRACTING women - it's just that apparently it's only TROUBLE women that I'm ATTRACTED to. While I'm pleasant to nice girls who express interest in me, I seem to hook up with only those that take advantage of my good nature.
By the time that I was twenty three I had had five significant supposedly exclusive relationships. All ended when the slut-of-the-moment that I was dating cheated on me. I had lost all confidence in my ability to judge women, and all hope that I'd find someone that would be true to me, but at least with the last two cheaters I caught on to signs that they were cheating and was able to dump them much more smoothly than the first three.
Then I met Laura.
I was pleased that I was attracted to Laura since she seemed different than my five bad experiences. Perhaps the biggest difference was that she was smart - really smart. While I have a B. S. in chemical engineering, Laura - a year older than I am - has an M. S. in electronics engineering, and was near the top of her class at one of the ten best engineering schools in the country.
Laura and I met at a wilderness outing. The attraction was almost instantaneous - at least for me - but having learned a little bit from my five disastrous relationships I didn't jump in with all four feet. I played it cool - at least somewhat. However when I saw her politely but firmly shoot down the many other male participants that tried to get her to warm up to them, and once I had several intellectual conversations with her about technology, current affairs, and the possibilities of extraterrestrial life - far different from conversations that I had had with my previous hot but somewhat vacuous cheating girlfriends - I fell hard.
Fortunately it seemed that Laura fell hard too because by the fifth day of the eight day outing we were sharing the same tent and fucking up a storm. If I had any lingering apprehension it disappeared after the third fuck.
Despite our fatigue from the day's activities our first fuck, in missionary position, was awesome. As a prelude to our second fuck I was awakened in the middle of the night by Laura sucking my cock after which she rode me to nirvana while I manipulated her ample firm mammaries. I awoke at first light the next morning to Laura's bright smile.
"Isn't knocking off a piece of ass in the middle of the night the greatest, Brent?" she chuckled.
"Better than anything except a doggy fuck first thing in the morning, Laura," I snickered. Five minutes later my cock was reciprocating in her snug pussy while she banged back, and I simultaneously poked her puckerhole with a finger and periodically lightly twisted one of her sensitive nipples. Our lights-out simultaneous orgasms insured no holding back on my fascination with Laura.
In addition to being highly intelligent, Laura was a fucking machine. If one were to liken her performance in the sack to the performance of a car, she was a Lamborghini Veneno; a carbon fiber frame, a power-to-weight ratio of 1.93 kg/hp, a top speed of 355 km/hr, 0-100 km/hr in 2.8 seconds, a quarter mile in 10.3 seconds, and a purring yet whining V12 engine so sweet and distinctive that the sound is trademarked.
The only problem whatsoever with Laura was keeping up with her high libido. Once she gave herself to me, it was complete - no hesitation whatsoever; vaginal, oral, anal, and vaginal and a butt plug at the same time.
There probably were some "caution" signs during our whirlwind 150 day courtship, but I was either too oblivious, or too serene from being fucked an average of twice a day, to recognize them. The only caution sign I did notice was her friendship with a guy that I thought was sleazy, but she thought was intellectual, by the name of Clyde Barrow.
Yeah, that really was the name he went by although his full name was Samuel C. Barrow, with no indication that the "C" stood for "Clyde." You would think that he would have changed his name, or at least gone by "Sam," especially since he dealt with banks all the time in his profession. Instead he always got a big smile when he met someone and they raised their eyebrows when introduced.
While the passion of our courtship could obviously not be sustained, even after two years of marriage Laura and I were either fucking or making love an average of six times a week. Every session with Laura was like driving a Veneno; thrilling, exciting, satiating, and sextastic! We were very compatible outside the bedroom too, and for the first time since my first girlfriend had cheated on me, by then about seven years ago, I felt comfortable in a relationship.
Laura and I made good money as engineers, and she was kind of a savant - or so I thought - in handling our finances so I was happy to have her deal with that facet of our relationship. Even though I thought that she was good with numbers and money I was surprised, since we were only 26 and 27 years old, that shortly before our second anniversary we were able to afford a detached house in a nice suburban neighborhood. Even more surprising was our ability to put down one third of the purchase price as a down-payment.
"WOW, babe; how did we save that much money?" I whistled.
"I made some good investments and had a big bonus this year, Brent," she smiled.
"You're a fucking genius," I laughed.
"And, more importantly, a genius at fucking," she snickered in return as she stroked my cock.
Shortly after that I made a massive sperm deposit in her pulsating pussy to celebrate our purchase.
***************
The only major irritant for me during the first two plus years of our marriage was interacting with Clyde an average of about once a fortnight. Normally Clyde had a date when we interacted, but not always. His dates were always good-looking but slutty. Several came on to me. He rarely was with the same woman twice, although there was one slut who he called "Bonnie," (she giggled every time he did - I never get her real name) who he did bring around at least a half dozen times. Bonnie has double Ds, bleach-blond hair, a pleasant even if not truly beautiful face, and really, really, nice ass cheeks and thighs. She was probably a call girl; as naïve as I am when on two separate occasions out of range of Laura's hearing Bonnie offered me a "freebie" even I could figure that out.
It was clear that Laura did not like Bonnie. Maybe she overheard one of her propositions; whatever the reason, I think that Laura talked to Clyde about how she felt about Bonnie, and did didn't bring her around again after the second time that she propositioned me.
After about twenty eight months of marriage, Laura came to me with a strange problem. She brought it up right after riding me reverse cowgirl while contemporaneously massaging my testicles as I worked two fingers in and out of her lubricated puckerhole. It was in the top ten of all of our sexual experiences - which, to again make a trite analogy - was like accelerating a Veneno to 300 km/hr in 25 seconds and then driving it through a Le Mans course. Once we separated as she snuggled up to me still fondling my balls she cooed "Oh darling that was wonderful."
"Holy shit - you're a fucking goddess," was my candid reply.
After talking about how great our fuck was a few more minutes, Laura morphed the conversation into several other light subjects, and then hit me with "Oh, by the way; I meant to tell you about a problem that Clyde is having."
"Oh..." was my only reply, my mind still awash with endorphins from our epic sexual experience.
"The government has charged him with fraud. I know that he's not guilty, but it is worrying him. His attorney said that he needs to get some excellent character witnesses to testify on his behalf," she mumbled, periodically kissing my face or neck as she did so.
"Are you going to testify?" I asked, now regaining a little cognizance.
"Well, I had an arrest for a minor incident when I was nineteen" - that was the first that I had heard about it - "and I don't have the stellar reputation that you do in the charitable community" she said. The last statement related to the fact that I was the youngest member of the board of directors of the largest and most recognizable charity in our community, one that I had done volunteer work with since I was a teenager. Then she continued, "And Clyde's attorney said that you'd be the best character witness he could find. You'd do it for me, wouldn't you, darling, even if not for Clyde?"
When Laura sensed some reticence on my part, she shinnied down and started sucking my vaginal-secretions-caked cock. Several minutes later I was making another sperm deposit in her tight little pussy when her pc muscles squeezed me as hard as a gripping hand as we both screamed and moaned in orgasm. That apparently indicated assent to her question because after we separated she moaned "Thank you darling for the wonderful fuck, and agreeing to help Clyde."
****************
It wasn't long after our epic fucks where Laura got me to tacitly agree to be a character witness for Clyde that my "feelers" went up. It started when I inadvertently left a camera in an inconspicuous place on a dresser in our bedroom. Of course Laura - an electronics engineer in addition to as highly observant a person as I've ever met - confronted me about it. While pretending like she was joking there was something about her facial expression that was unsettling. "What are you doing, my darling Brent - trying to catch me on camera with one of my many lovers?" she chuckled.
We both joked about it, but my antennas were up. They went up even more when looking for some incidental that I had misplaced when I opened up the trunk of her car and saw what I was sure - even though I'm a chemical engineer and not an electronics one like Laura - electronics sweeping/detection equipment.
Upon return from Clyde's attorney's office my antennas weren't just up, they were pulsating.
I asked Clyde's attorney, John Justice (a good name for an attorney, don't you think), to give me a preview of the case against Clyde. When he did I saw a couple of documents that looked familiar; I was sure that I had seen them on Laura's desk. Justice thought that the case against Clyde was a true 50-50 one, and that my testimony could be the key.
After Justice went over my background, highly pleased with it - including awards that I won in college and my charitable work - I told Justice what an honest individual I knew Clyde to be. When I told him that I was highly exaggerating, even if not outright lying, and I even made up a few stories about how Clyde had proceeded scrupulously in the past even when duplicity would not have been detected. Justice was very pleased.
Knowing that Laura was too smart for me to catch cheating, and typical electronic surveillance equipment out of the picture in view of her expertise, on my work computer I did an Internet search for some alternative. I couldn't believe my luck when after about forty minutes of searching I came upon a new product; a mattress sold by a Spanish company under the trademark Smarttress.â„¢ As the name implies, that $1700 mattress sends a text message when the mattress is in use when the owner is away. The text reports not only that the mattress is in use but how many people are on it and the total weight of the individuals on it. I bought a Smarttressâ„¢ and an HD video camera that same day.
I spent the next week until the mattress was delivered complaining about our old one - which was a relatively cheap one, so my complaints were not transparently false. During that time I also delivered all of our financial information that I could gather to a forensic accountant for review.
I had the Smarttressâ„¢ installed while Laura was at work, and was sure to get home before she did. "Darling, I've got a surprise for you - remember how I was complaining about our lumpy mattress?"
