Strava & Arma

Poser and Poseur are similar words and some readers may argue whether they are interchangeable. Have at it in the comments, IDC.

Thanks to BentNotBroken for her editing and critical thoughts. I never knew how helpful a competent editor can be!

This is just another cheating wife tale with hopefully a somewhat unique way she gets caught. No offense to the roadie cyclists. OK, just a little bit of offense! Lighten up guys.

* * * *

"But I want a paid subscription to Strava!" my beautiful wife moaned. "I want to see my routes and KPIs and segments and have others give me kudos for my rides!"

"Bailey, babe, you hardly ride that expensive bike you made me buy. Now you want me to pay for a subscription you won't use?"

"I'll use it, I promise," she said with that pouting look that made me always give in to her.

Little did I know how she'd use the bike, nor that the app would not only measure her Key Performance Indicators (KPIs) but also measure something else, something much worse.

* * * *

Cycling has evolved over the last hundred years from basic two wheel bicycles with no gears to a full drivetrain, shock absorbers, multiple versions of handlebars and seats, a wide variety of tires, tubes, tubeless, gearing, weight and way too many extras such as lights, trip computers, helmets, jerseys and kits, shoes, cleats, pedals, even padded underwear.

As a kid I rode all over the city on my Schwinn Continental 10 speed cutting lawns, then as I grew up and began working and met other cyclists I picked up a road bike (lightweight with skinny slick tires), then a mountain bike which led to strenuous and exciting rides, and now a gravel bike.

Gravel riding is basically riding dirt roads in the country. It's becoming a huge sport worldwide, and is a different breed of rider - more relaxed and friendly as compared to the roadies who are super serious about their speed, cadence, and time. And they never seem to smile.

Bailey and I've been married ten years now and I'm making really good money at a consulting firm. There's some traveling involved. Bailey works at a high end boutique. She sells clothes, but she insists her title is a "personal style curator."

You see, Bailey is vulnerable to social and cultural trends. Actually, she is very beautiful and gets a lot of attention but for some reason she seems to have a low self-image. She struggles with her identity and tries to fit into certain social groups or social circles by adopting a persona that isn't genuine.

Frankly, she's a poser.

We once went to Nashville as part-business for me on assignment from the Consulting Group I work for, and also a little vacation with Bailey. We stayed at the Opryland Hotel, a huge mammoth building but spent a lot of time downtown. So what did Bailey buy in preparation for Nashville?

She started out with what she thought would be a cowgirl outfit: cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, western shirt and a denim short skirt. Of course, all these clothes were fresh, not a scuff on the boots. Of course all the locals knew she wasn't country.

We walked around lower Broadway, known as the Honky Tonk Highway where all the best bars, restaurants, shops are then made our way over to Music Row. She ended up wearing a band tee with a pair of jeans and her boots but she had no idea who the band was. That's a poser.

One year we went out to Montana and did some hiking. Of course, she went shopping at REI and walked out with brand new equipment for just about every possibility one might encounter on a trail. The guide and locals looked at her and were respectful, but when she turned they all smirked at one another. Poser.

Early in our marriage we went to watch skaters at a skateboard park. She bought a pair of Vans to go with her fitted bodice and a wide leg skater jeans and a headband. She looked way too pretty to be taken for a skater and everyone knew it. Poser.

Bailey wanted to fit in everywhere but she's never been truly invested in any of the culture behind whatever style and activity interested her at the moment.

Usually, she would soon tire of whatever her current fanciful (and expensive) interest was and would begin to ignore it until something else caught her eye, or, maybe even the posing became too difficult or didn't get enough of a response.

I know, I know, why would I marry a shallow person? Well, for starters, I might have been a little shallow myself at a younger age and went after the 10s, those girls who were knockouts. Maybe they had some personality, maybe not. I just wanted the arm candy and what I hoped would be a hot bed.

Bailey was good in bed, maybe not spectacular, but with her body one's imagination could conjure up a lot of kink. I came to expect that wherever we went that men would hit on her, even when she was with me. She'd even flirt at times but always seemed to be able to turn away or say the right words to turn them down.

She was also daddy's little girl. Her parents were well off and I came to see how she wasn't really denied much as she grew up which perhaps made her think she could get whatever she wanted in order to fit in to various groups and fads.

I got a pretty good job and was making serious money when I met her, so at the time I didn't really have any objection to continuing to support her lavish habits. She looked good on my arm at functions and could hold a decent conversation without embarrassing me, though at times, given her looks, I would wonder if men actually heard what she was saying when they seemed to pay attention to her body.

Then came our vacation in Europe. I specifically wanted a biking tour of Italy. These would be about 30 - 50 miles a day through the beautiful Italian countryside accompanied by a SAG vehicle. "Support and Gear" basically is a vehicle outfitted with supplies, repair items, food, water for cyclists. It eliminates the need to weigh down your bike with the necessary extras for long rides but can also repair your bike if a flat or other mechanical breakdown occurs.

Bailey was fit enough, that is, when she actually did workouts. I admit she looked hot in her spandex tops and shorts, even her cameltoe was a turn-on for me. And every time she went to the health club her hair and make-up was done up just right. Again, a poser.

So she really wasn't ready for the long rides we were going to do, but the tour company had e-bikes as well which worked out nicely for her. Of course, the distance still made her ass hurt since she wasn't ready for sitting in the saddle that long.

Nonetheless, we had a fantastic vacation and saw some beautiful sights. On returning home she wanted to keep riding and thought it would be a nice thing to do together, since I went out Tuesday and Thursday evenings with different riding groups, and tried to do some weekends too. Of course there were the timed races I entered, so my fitness was top notch.

My fitness, though, and her beauty, didn't mean everything was well in the bedroom around this time. In fact, our mutually enjoyable activity had begun to drop off. I didn't really know why. It's been like that since Memorial Day.

We live far outside the urban core. Just outside the core city are the inner ring suburbs, then the outer ring suburbs, then the x-burbs. That's where we live. Basically mostly dirt roads around large recreation areas of forests, trails, lakes, picnic areas.

Off these dirt roads are large subdivisions of big homes on five acre lots or larger. It means a lot of lawn to cut, but also privacy. So on the Nextdoor website we have a group of several of these large subdivisions and we coordinate parties throughout the year in one of the subs, mostly on the major holidays.

These large subdivisions are all attached by trails and of course by the gravel roads. This year the Memorial Day picnic and party was at the Cedar Ridge Sub about eight miles away in one of the large cul-de-sacs, because three of the homes with long driveways off the cul-de-sacs are big on parties and like to supply a lot of the tables and tents and other things.

It's convenient for everyone, and those three homeowners in the cul-de-sac also permit everyone to use their bathrooms when needed. There's even golf carts to ride to and from those homes. The one furthest back is a single guy in his 40s, Carson Edwards.

Carson's home is huge, about a long 150 yards back of the street, backing up to a forested area with a four-car garage, built-in pool, hot tub, and large deck in the rear. It's nice and secluded, I know because he also has an ego and likes to show all the neighbors around his home.

Myself, I like a big home in the country but not that big. I'd love to have kids with Bailey if she'd ever get her mind around that, but she's always enamored with those who have more than her. Again, she just wants to fit in. She gushed over Carson's home on his tour, grabbing his arm when pointing out this-or-that piece of art or sculpture or the deck and backyard.

It irritated me because I knew she'd now want something like that for herself. Plus, I didn't like her hanging on him. Was it flirting? Probably not, at least I don't think so, but as beautiful as she is I'm sure Carson didn't mind too much.

So, we got back from Italy in time for the Memorial Day festivities. I have a bike event the following weekend, The Pine Island Gravel Odyssey in Spearfish, South Dakota. It's a major event, well-attended, and well-organized. Between travel time and the event I'd be gone for almost a week.

"Blake, I don't want to go to Spearfish with you. It's probably boring out there. Plus I don't want to take any more time off work."

That didn't seem that odd to me, but looking back now I know why. What was odd was when I returned, Bailey wanted me to buy her a gravel bike and start riding. And do you think I could get her just any gravel bike, like an entry level one for about $1,500 that is still a great bike?

No, not at all. The poser in her wanted a Canyon Endurance CFR Di2 with the sparkle stealth paint package. Eight Thousand Bucks! Shit, if it wasn't for her looks pleading with that pout I would have turned her down. But no, I got it for her.

Of course, it didn't stop there. Thank goodness for Amazon Prime return policy! I didn't know how many seats she ordered from Amazon until she found the one that fit her sit-bones just right. Did she even know what sit-bones were? And then the helmets, lights, shorts and jersey, shoes. That all adds up to a hell of a lot of money.

By the way, the joke about bicyclists is that they can't resist buying jerseys, either of the event they'll be riding in or a new design. Just ask any biker how many jerseys they own.

Her plan was to ride with me on the Tuesday and Thursday gravel rides. These are nice group rides, no-drop, and usually around 20 miles. It frustrated me to ride at her pace especially since she wasn't used to ten miles much less twenty. Her thighs were burning when we were done.

"Oh I wish I could sit in Carson's hot tub and soak my legs!" she moaned. Shit, I could have bought a hot tub for what we spent on her bike.

As much of a poser as she was in so many areas, I was surprised that she started to ride by herself shorter distances from our house to build up her stamina and endurance. Of course, it meant she needed even more jerseys but what the hell. If it turns out she can keep up with the group in the future, I was all for it.

The next time she rode with us we all went out for Taco Tuesday. She enjoyed meeting the other women and getting pointers from them, including the suggestion of getting a Garmin trip computer and the Strava app.

Of course she had to have her Strava app, so I got her a subscription and set it up for her. She was overjoyed when I put it on her Apple watch and showed her how it would automatically sync with the app. She began using it on her training rides and rejoiced at the "kudo's" that would show in her notifications.

"Look babe! Look at my kudo's! People think I'm doing great!"

"Yeah, yeah," I thought to myself. "But maybe the positive reinforcement will keep her riding more on that expensive set of wheels."

Of course, the "kudo's" were simply the Strava app's version of 'likes' on Facebook or the 'hearts' on Instagram. Lots of people use those simply to keep track of where they are in the feed, besides, even if you get a kudo for your ride it doesn't mean they're impressed with your stats. But my wife sure thought that!

The poser was now part of a group.

She'd leave from home on her training ride, telling me how her miles were increasing. She would be gone for a long time and come back wet and sweaty, so it looked like she was getting a good workout.

I pretty much ignored her Strava notifications. Yeah, I'd quickly do the thumbs up so that she'd get a "kudo" notification but that's about it. One day after one of my rides I looked up my segments on my Strava app, then for some unknown reason just looked up Bailey's.

It was curious. Was she using the app correctly? It only showed a bunch of 16 mile rides. That should only take about an hour at most, unless she was stopping.

Now, I had put her settings on auto-pause, which will automatically detect when you stop and pause the recording and will also show how long you were stopped during the activity. It can include stoplights, coffee breaks, bathroom stops, stopping for photos.

When the ride is done you can see your total moving time which measures how long you were active, compared to elapsed time which is from when you start your activity to the moment you finish the activity.

Why would she have an elapsed time of three hours with a moving time of one hour? Yet come home wet and sweaty after only around sixteen miles? That would mean two hours of stops.

How can one stop at enough lights, bathroom stops, rest stops, whatever for two hours for only sixteen miles? And where in the rural area we live can you make all those stops? And sixteen miles? That's not even a workout! And be sweaty?

I was very suspicious. But, I didn't say anything but I did have an idea. I bought an Invoxia Real Time GPS tracker and put the slim sized tracker under her bike seat. I wanted to know where she was stopping for two hours.

Was I surprised to learn she stopped only eight miles away, at a home with a long driveway off a cul-de-sac, a home with a very private backyard?

For the entire two hours!

But why was she so wet from perspiration when she got home? Why would she lie about the miles when it was so obvious on Strava? Probably because as all posers do, they lose interest over time with the culture and begin to ignore it. In her case, I was certain something else had her interest, not her KPIs but another kind of 'key performance.'

There's a bike camera that's rather expensive that records front and rear, popular among the roadies due to their riding on pavement on busy roads. Far too many cyclists have been clipped by vehicles and suffered serious injuries. The recordings are a great way to catch and prosecute the drivers.

"Bailey babe, I love how you're getting into the riding but I'm just worried someone is going to run you off the road and get away with it. I bought you a gift, a CycleIQ front and rear camera. It's top of the line, you'll be the envy of other bikers!"

She was happy for another expensive give but clearly didn't put two and two together.

The cameras had image stabilization, seven hours of recording, stereo sound recording, and wi-fi transfer to upload the video/audio. It still turned on manually, so I would run down to the garage and turn it on while Bailey was getting dressed for her ride.

But that wasn't suspicious, after all, it was always up to me to get her bike ready. She wasn't going to bother to check tire pressure, or loose spokes, or lube up the chain. That was always on me. She might break a nail. Oh my, the horror!

Her very next ride was interesting to view. It showed her making the eight mile ride to Carson's home in only 30 minutes. That meant she was making good time there and back, basically an hour.

When she pulled around the back of his home into the private backyard she propped the bike against the grill, where the wide angle camera focused on the pool, hot tub, and some of the deck chairs.

Carson was sitting there awaiting her with margaritas and got up and hugged her, then she began stripping off her jersey and bike shorts, socks, and shoes. She was wearing a bikini under her bike kit.

In no time at all they both were naked, bodies pressed together, making out like teenagers. While it was of unimpressive size, the high-definition camera clearly displayed Carson's cock nudging Bailey's mound, getting bigger every second!

Bailey was lip-locked with him, her hands roaming his chest, teasing his nipples. In turn, Carson broke the kiss and moved down to Bailey's nipples to kiss and suck on them while his hand went around the back to untie her top, and the other hand down between her legs. Obviously his fingers were in her pussy as her hips were grinding on his hand.

I could tell Bailey was starting to lose control, just then Carson had to wrap his free arm around her as her legs buckled from her orgasm. He laid her down on a chaise lounge and went down on her to lick up her juices, only to bring her to another orgasm.

By this time his dick was at full attention and he moved around and grabbed my wife's beautiful head of hair and pulled her to his manhood. The bike camera's stereo sound easily picked up the slurping sounds of her sucking him off, his moaning, his sex talk, and his eventual grunting as he unloaded in her mouth.

Bailey licked her lips and strolled over to her margarita to rinse her mouth, then dove into the pool and lazily did a backstroke, while Carson grabbed his drink and sat down on the pool steps.

Now I know why she came home wet and sweaty. It wasn't from the ride.

When Bailey swam over to him I could hear them talking. "Carson, how can you afford such a nice home? What do you do for work?"

"I have a rich grandfather who left me a nice trust fund, so I don't really work. I play around in the stock markets and do some investing and try to live off interest and gains."

She smiled a very coquettish grin, "Ooo a rich, handsome man. Do you think you could afford a beautiful, sexy, woman like me? Do you, stud?"

"Hell yeah I could! I'd do a lot of things for you Bailey if you were mine, but you're not, are you."

"Not at the moment but that could be arranged if you could help me. Then you could have me all the time, not just when I can get out for a bike ride."

"Are you serious? Don't you love Blake?"

"Yeah, I guess. He complains a lot when I need things, but, I don't know. I really like being with you. I would love to live here and add a lot of hotness to your world!" She winked at Carson.

Listening to this really pissed me off. I complain a lot? She needs things? When has she ever heard me say 'no' to her requests? I couldn't believe this was all about the size of his house and bank account.

It certainly wasn't about the size of his dick. My equipment was top of the line! You'd think my expensive wife would appreciate that.

But then again, she's a poser. She rates herself by how she looks, how she appears to other people and to Carson she appears as a beautiful sextress which she in fact is. But that's not all there is to life.

Did I lose my wife because she wanted more than I was willing to give? Did I even know how much more she wanted? I don't think so. I started to think the hole in her self-esteem was deeper than I realized, that perhaps it was an endless hole that she was trying to fill.

In any case, I was confident I fulfilled almost all of her requests during our marriage. And there was no reason to expect that she'd seek out a cock attached to a bigger house. But now that she had, I had decisions to make.