If a Tree Falls in a Forest...

She had graphs, photographs, brochures, and maps; it was like the most complete business presentation in history.

I sat like an automaton just nodding my head. She would occasionally ask me questions just to be sure that I was listening, or if she thought that something wasn't clear she would go over it again.

One question I did ask. "Are you sure that we can make enough money to execute your entire Plan?"

"Certainly. I'll make big bucks at Besson Realty because I'm really good at my job, and you'll be a star. By the time that you're twenty six you'll be making more money that I will be. Plus, your parents will love me because I'll treat them like my own parents, and if we ever need any financial help they'll provide it," she matter-of-factly responded.

I shrugged my shoulders.

When Brittany finished she collected all of her documents, put them back into her valise, and then said, "After the last day of finals this semester, you need to decide if you want to execute my Plan. If you don't, we'll part friends. If you do, you'll be the envy of every male in the world and never regret your decision. Until then I'll never bring it up again, however, you can ask questions whenever you want."

I was astonished; all that I could mumble out was "OK."

"So, Kevin, tonight do you want to go dancing first and fuck later, or just fuck? I'd prefer a night of just pure sex, especially since you haven't found all of my erogenous zones, or fucked my tits yet; but the choice is yours."

"Tough choice," I laughed to myself.

****************

By Sunday afternoon I had found all of Brittany's erogenous zones, and had fucked her tits. The titty fuck was better than any vaginal fuck that I had ever had with any other woman! By a mile!

Over the rest of the semester we bonded. Our "routine," if you could call having a great time and mind-blowing sex a "routine," was to have lunch together Monday and Friday, study together when not in class on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, go to a party or cultural event on Friday night, go on an outing on Saturday during the day, and study together Sunday. She slept at my apartment Friday-Sunday nights, and there wasn't a night that we slept together that we didn't have sex at least twice.

She was, unequivocally, a sex goddess. I had a permanent smile on my face.

Wednesday afternoon and most of the day Thursday she had a part time job with Besson Realty LLC, the same company that she expected to work for after we got married. She was helping them set up an office in the eastern part of the U S. Two Saturday nights she also had some sort of commitment with that job so those days I didn't see her from Saturday morning until Sunday afternoon.

Her only - tangential - mention of the "Plan" was in response to times when I would tell her "I love you." She would get a diabolical grin and retort "I'll let you know how I feel about you once I hear your decision at the end of the semester," followed by a passionate kiss.

Of course spending all of that time with Brittany allowed me to find out everything about her background. Her parents died when she was fifteen, and even while they were still alive things were fairly rough for her since her family was poor and her living conditions bad; she said that she never felt safe. A non-relative guardian named John Besson and his wife Camille - the owners of Besson Realty - looked out for her since she was fifteen years old. They were also paying her college expenses. She developed a strong sense of herself by dealing with the types of things that naturally occurred to someone with her background, and vowed never to be poor or not feel safe again.

I came to believe - as preposterous as it first seemed - that she probably had sought me out because of my independence, physical strength, wealthy parents, and prospects for success in life. I still didn't really understand it, though, since she could have latched on to almost anyone that she wanted to; however, by the time that we had been together about two months I stopped trying to understand it and just went with the flow.

******************

Before finals week started I bought an engagement ring, talked to my parents and asked if I could bring Brittany home for semester break to meet them, and planned a romantic evening the night after the last exam.

As we ate dinner at the fanciest restaurant in our small city, in a booth near the back where almost no one but the employees could see us, I observed a constant expectant look on her face. Every time that she tried to turn the conversation toward the Plan I changed the subject, causing her great angst. Finally she grabbed me by my tie and pulled my face down toward some creamy foo-foo dessert that had just been placed in front of me.

"Do you agree to the Plan or not, you bastard?" she snarled.

I got a big grin on my face, frantically waved at the waiter, and replied "If you let go I promise to tell you within thirty seconds."

She growled, released my tie, and then sat back in her chair with her arms folded. The violinist and accordion player that wandered throughout the restaurant, led by the waiter, came rushing to our table. As they sang and played the perfect marriage proposal song, "I Swear" by All4One, I pulled the engagement ring out of my pocket. I kneelt down and asked "Brittany will you make me the happiest man in the world and agree to marry me?"

For the first time since I had known her she blushed; then smiled; then held out her left hand. I put the ring on her finger and she said "Yes; I think that I will; pursuant to my Plan, of course." The last statement was made with a twinkle in her eye.

We kissed; the musicians finished the piece, I shook each of their hands, and sat back down.

As we almost wordlessly ate our desserts my right hand held her left playing with the ring on her finger, and she stared intensely into my eyes. When we were almost finished she mumbled "That is I'll marry you if I don't fuck you to death tonight. Let's get out of here."

I had pre-paid the bill and tip for the waiter and musicians so we got up and left.

As soon as my apartment door closed behind us she growled "You just made the best decision of your life."

Our clothes came off quickly, she pinned me to the mattress pleasuring me all over with her mouth, hands, and even feet, and once I was begging to fuck her she mounted me cowgirl. She then proceeded to periodically switch between cowgirl and reverse cowgirl without my cock ever leaving her cunt. I exploded in her when in the reverse cowgirl position she massaged my balls and pulsated her pussy while I fingered her pucker hole.

After we regained our senses she cuddled up to me and said "Oh; by the way; I DO really love you Kevin."

*****************

My parents were first flabbergasted by, then loved, Brittany. She instantly bonded with my Mom. My Dad and brother drooled and were jealous of me. My brother sincerely asked "How in the hell did you pull it off?"

We had a small wedding paid for by the Bessons, although my parents threw lavish engagement and rehearsal dinner events. Brittany had to be the most beautiful bride in the world. By the time of the wedding my parents looked upon her as the daughter that they never had.

The wedding was the only time that I met the Bessons. Their relationship with Brittany seemed a little strange to me. They treated her more like a friend than their ward.

The honeymoon - also paid for by my parents - was beyond fantastic.

*****************

It was hard to believe, but the Plan was executed basically as written. There were some kinks of course, some surprises, and some really bizarre scenarios. One thing that was for sure, however, was that Brittany was true to her word - she made me the happiest guy in history.

Brittany never refused sex, and every sexual encounter with her was totally beyond the pale. She was always sultry and exciting; she was unfailingly compassionate and loving; and she never missed saying "I love you" at least once every day. Of course we had disagreements - we were human - but she was never unreasonable, had a knack for diffusing situations before they got serious, and knew all of my right buttons to push to make me reasonable. While we maintained our independent streaks in dealing with others, we both were more than willing to compromise with each other.

Especially when I was starting out, having Brittany as my wife was also a fantastic boon to my career. Because I was in public relations I had to do or deal with a fair amount of entertaining. Once people met my wife their opinion of me skyrocketed - in everyone's mind I had to really have something going for me if someone as gorgeous and charming as she was would marry me. If we hosted events she was always the perfect hostess; when we attended them she was always the most considerate and appreciative guest.

She was also an expert at deflecting the unwanted advances she often received, especially at events where much alcohol was consumed. Only a half a dozen times was she not able to easily handle the situation. In those cases she would hit a button on her cell phone which gave a distinctive ring on mine, and I would quickly locate her. When I arrived she would grab my bicep and stare at the jerk who was hitting on her and say - "Would you like to repeat to my husband Kevin what you just said to me, asshole?" Only one guy didn't turn red and scurry away; the one who didn't I dispatched of so quickly that it looked like he had passed out and that I was being a Good Samaritan by carrying him to the lobby.

Also, she was really good at her job and made almost as much money as I did. In fact the first two years of marriage her W-2s put mine to shame. The company that she worked for, Besson Realty LLC, owned by her guardian John Besson, and his wife Camille, though small, seemed to be a first class organization. They were not a conventional real estate agency; they didn't get commissions on selling and closing on properties. Rather they set up real estate deals with people and organizations across the country, and got their commissions on consultations and deal making. There was some travel involved for Brittany, but she was never gone for more than two nights at a time. Also, she was home to make dinner every day that she was in town unless we were going out that night. She also found time to work out many afternoons, and would come home smelling sweet and fresh from her shower and douche at the health club after her workout.

Being with her co-workers was also a treat. The three other agents that worked in her office (John Besson worked primarily on the west coast), Diane, Ashley and Liz, were almost as beautiful and charming as Brittany is. The two husbands, Tom and Sterling, and the steady boyfriend, Chris, of the other three agents felt the same way that I did - luckiest guys in the world!

Besson Realty's small office was also the neatest and cleanest that I had ever seen. Brittany said that they had a rule about no more than three pieces of paper on a desk at a time, and the times that I was there I never saw more than one.

By the time that Brittany turned twenty nine we had saved enough money, and my career was moving along well enough, that we were not likely to have money problems in the future, and could pay for three kids to go to college. Therefore, pursuant to the Plan, Brittany stopped working for Besson Realty once she was two months pregnant with our first child.

Not surprisingly, with our first two kids, a boy who looked like my clone when I was his age, and a girl who looked like Brittany only with my mother's nose, born two and a half years apart, she was the perfect mother. Brittany was always attentive, but never hovering or smothering. All of our kids' friends loved to come to our house, and Brittany treated them like her own. Also not surprising, Brittany regained her pre-child weight and almost her pre-child muscle tone within five months after she delivered each child, while breast feeding both of them. Most people could not believe that when she was thirty seven she was the mother of two - she still looked like a twenty two year old Miss America.

*********************

The relevance of the first paragraph of this story came into significance about the time that Brittany and I were talking about having our third kid. We were both all for it; we just wanted the timing to be right.

We had recently gotten some bad news when we heard that Diane - one of Brittany's former co-workers - and her husband Tom were divorcing. I had always liked Diane (who we had remained friendly with even after Brittany quit) and kind of liked Tom - and thought that they were compatible. I was a little surprised when Tom called me and offered to take me to lunch before he moved to Europe.

At Tom's request we went to a noisy bistro. There was enough noise so that no one could hear us but if we concentrated we could quite easily hear each other. I concentrated.

After an initial change of pleasantries, quick service of the lunch special, and my opening about the divorce, between bites Tom got to the point.

"I'm sorry to hear about you and Diane splitting up and you moving to get away," I said. "I always thought that you two were compatible."

"We were for a long time. However, unlike Brittany, she still works at Besson Realty and I told her that our only chance of making it was for her to quit immediately."

"Why? Is she being treated badly there?"

He looked at me funny. "No; I won't share her. I don't know how you were able to handle it with Brittany when she worked there, but I can't."

I stopped with my fork halfway to my mouth.

"What?"

Tom got a weird look on his face. "You don't know that Besson Realty is an uber-call girl business?"

"What the fuck? What does that even mean?"

"That means that they have the classiest call girls in the country; they make the most per encounter of anyone, because they are the best looking and sexiest women in the business," he replied.

I dropped my fork and was quickly losing my appetite.

"Did you ever wonder how Brittany made so much money yet didn't seem to work that many hours? How she was always clean and fresh when she came home from work?"

"She worked out and showered at the Health Club," I blurted out.

"Probably many days she did. Others, her workout was very likely not at the Health Club but at a condo that Besson Realty owns."

"Do you have any proof of that?" I angrily queried, now really troubled.

"I have to admit that it is mostly circumstantial evidence - Diane certainly hasn't admitted it - but there is a lot of circumstantial evidence. However, what precipitated my concern was a friend of mine seeing Diane at a party with another guy when she was out of town on one of her business trips."

"Maybe it was just business."

"My friend was sure that in fact it was business - but not real estate business. The cell phone photos he took confirmed it in my mind."

It was clear that Tom was now uncomfortable because of the steam coming out of my ears. In fact, I think that he was regretting the lunch, and seemed to be wary that I might punch him out.

I got up from the table, my lunch less than half eaten. "Thanks for the food," I mumbled. "Have a great life in Europe;" then I stormed out.

My mind was muddled. I was worthless at work the rest of the day so I knocked off early and took a walk in a park. I had no clue what I was going to say to Brittany when I got home. Was she really an uber call girl the entire time that I had known her until she quit Besson Realty? Was Besson just a clever businessman who could get payments for sex to look like consulting fees for real estate transactions, and with the gall to actually issue W-2s and have a retirement plan?

What I did know for sure was that I couldn't let it fester - we never had with any other issue. Of course this issue was infinitely larger than any other issue that Brittany and I had addressed in the past.

I tried to act naturally that night; I mostly played with the kids and tried to engage Brittany as little as possible while still doing enough to avoid suspicion. It didn't work.

Once the kids were in bed Brittany asked "What's wrong?"

"Why do you think something is wrong?"

"Because you're as transparent as glass...You can either tell me now or I'll hound you until you do. Your choice," she said with her arms crossed.

After a long pause I decided to come clean; in increments.

"I had lunch with Tom Miller today."

"So," Brittany replied without emotion.

"He talked about the reason that he and Diane are getting divorced."

"What's the reason?"

"Don't you know?"

"No; I haven't talked with Diane about it. I was never crazy about Tom and I'm not sure that she'll be crying in her beer about it," she replied, again with no emotion; nor with any apprehension.

I thought long and hard before saying anything else. I guess that Brittany got tired of waiting, sitting with her arms crossed, so she continued. "Is that it? You're upset because they're getting divorced - that's the totality of it?"

I finally got the guts to respond. "No. He's says that he getting divorced because Besson Realty is an uber-call girl operation and he won't share her anymore."

Her eyes got wide. "And you believe him?"

I didn't answer. We sat staring at each other for what had to be two minutes, her face expressionless. Finally she stood up.

"I'm taking the kids to your parents' house for the weekend after I pick them up from school tomorrow. You answer that question when I get back Sunday night, and if your answer is 'Yes' you tell me what you're going to do about it. I'm more pissed off than I've ever been, so I'll be sleeping in the guest room tonight to prevent us from having a conversation that neither one of us will be able to forget," she said in a calm but stern voice.

Sleeping apart in the same house was a first for our fifteen plus year marriage.

When I left for work the next morning, I gave the kids a big hug, told them to have fun at the grandparents' house, and that I'd see them Sunday afternoon.

"You're not coming with us Daddy?" my little girl pleaded.

"Sorry, Hon; I have something that I need to do this weekend. But I'll miss you soooo much," I said smothering her with kisses as she giggled.

As I walked out the door Brittany gave me a peck on the cheek and then said, "One more question for you to answer this weekend regardless of your answer to the first one. If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound?"

*****************

I reflected long and hard that weekend, thinking of nothing else except my possible answers to the two questions Brittany had posed. I reflected upon my perfect life, and perfect wife. I could find no flaws in Brittany as a lover, wife, and mother; none.

I decided not to answer the first question because my answer to the second question posed by Brittany - as far as it related to us anyway - said it all. "No, it doesn't make a sound."

****************

We had our third child three years ago, and as I write this the five of us are all really excited that we're about to embark on a dream trip to Yellowstone and Yosemite - of course just as called for by the Plan.