Laura

Story Info
I tried, but she still didn't get it.
16k words
4.24
44.7k
91
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

This one is a bit of a different approach to infidelity. Not everyone (especially you scorched earth lovers) will like it but nevertheless here it is. Marriages are a lot of work. But when a marriage disintegrates it is usually slowly over a period of time. The LW category loves to have the 'Big Bang' where it all happens in a flash of blinding light and then it's on the retribution and bloodshed part. That isn't reality. This story is closer to that reality. I hope you enjoy.

No one is allowed to use or reuse any of my work for their own purposes, including financial gain, by any means!

**********

So, I'm looking in my wife's handbag for her car keys so I can move her car so I can get mine out of the garage and get to work. Well, I can tell you that when I was digging around in that rucksack that she calls a handbag (it has everything except a handgun and a taser) I came across things that were simply...amazing. You want to know why I'm telling you this. Well, I have a good reason. You see, the most amazing thing in that voluminous tote was an unopened box of condoms. Yes.

Twelve of Trojans finest ultra thin bare skin raw, offering amazing feel, as if there wasn't even a condom on the cock of the wearer. Yup, they're the best. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!

So, I took the box of condoms out of her handbag and had to sit down before I passed out and fell down and did damage to myself. I was dizzy and light-headed and the room started to tilt. Why is there a box of condoms in my wife's handbag? There might be a reasonable explanation for them, but right at that very moment, I couldn't seem to think of one.

The kids were making the usual noises as they got their stuff gathered up and got ready to head out to school. I was almost ready to go to work and Laura was bustling about also getting ready to go to her office.

When she saw me sitting at the kitchen table and she saw what I was holding, she froze, but only for a beat. She came over, took the box out of my hand, put it back in her handbag, gave me a kiss on the cheek and and said, 'have a good day sweetie, don't forget, you're barbecuing tonight.' With that she collected up her handbag and jacket and was out the door.

The kids, Andy and Gracie, stuck their heads around the corner, 'we're ready to go Dad,' and then headed out to the garage.

What just happened?

**********

I managed to drop the kids at school without crashing the car or running over someone, but I have to tell you that I didn't remember any of it, even going into my tiny office. I passed by people who said good morning to me but I can't remember who they were, and so, there I was sitting in my office, staring out the window, trying to remember what just happened at my home this morning.

Did I dream it? I mean, was it real? What the hell actually happened? Why does my wife of 11 years have a box of condoms in her handbag? My mind ran from one thought to another, and of course it went right to the worst possible scenario you can imagine. The main thought that I had was that she was having an affair with some guy. Was she planning on leaving us? Did she want a divorce? Did she want to take the kids from me? I was starting to hyperventilate just sitting a my desk. As the enormity of it all hit me, I had to sit for a spell with my head down between my knees trying not to pass out. I sat that way until there was a knock on the door and a head appeared around it. Someone wanted to know if I was going to get coffee at the shop down on the first floor. I did.

The day passed poorly.

**********

When I got home I know that my facial expression was such that I looked like I'd just witnessed a giant train wreck. I know I was pale, I felt like my legs were made of rubber. I think my blood pressure was certainly up and I had a certain amount of tightness in my chest. I saw the kids seated at the kitchen island working on something; I suppose it was homework, or what passes for homework nowadays.

Laura was in the kitchen working on the food. She looked at me, came over, gave me a kiss on the lips and said, "Don't forget you're cooking the burgers on the grill. Go get changed." And with that she went back to her efforts. Like nothing had happened this morning; I couldn't really believe it. I didn't know what else to do so without a word I went off to the bedroom to get out of my suit.

It was really strange. When I walked into the bedroom the feeling that I had was as if I expected there to be another man in there. I slowly looked around the corner of the door before going in the room. Nothing. Slowly I opened my closet door, expecting someone might be hiding in there, ready to jump out at me. Nothing there either. The bathroom was equally empty of unwanted intruders and interlopers. My paranoia was peaking.

I took a quick shower and all the while I was thinking a million things. Nothing made sense to me. I hadn't any actual evidence of something going on with Laura outside of our marriage. I mean, there could be a perfectly acceptable reason why she had a box of condoms in her handbag. I figured that the best thing to do was let her tell me in her own good time. It might be a while but I figured that eventually I would know, and then it would be time to do something about it. Whatever 'it' was. I put on some jeans and a t-shirt and went downstairs, chatted with the kids and got on with my job of cooking the burgers for supper.

But I wan't done trying to figure out if there was a fly in the ointment. Not by a long shot.

**********

So, when I go to bed I'm normally not wearing pyjamas or even boxers; yup, I sleep commando; naked. I'm far more comfortable that way. I'm surprised that more people don't do it. But, because we have two little kids I do keep some pyjama bottoms in the bottom drawer of my bedside table for quick use in the event that the kids come barging in our bedroom. I can pull them out and slide them up my legs while I'm still under the covers. It's really easy to do.

That night I was in bed trying to read for a few minutes before I went to sleep. Laura was in bed as well, but she normally wears a long t-shirty thing that she can get out of bed with and trod off to the bathroom or even out of our bedroom, depending on the need or urgency. She says that she's a bit more modest than me that way.

When I put my book down and turned off the light I rolled over to her and put my arm around her waist, kissed her on the lips and said my normal 'good night, I love you.' She in return normally says 'love you' and then gets comfortable and off to sleep.

I didn't really sleep much that night, and wouldn't for quite a few more.

**********

Several months later

Whoa! That was freakin awesome. Laura is a woman on fire. And I mean on fire. She must have orgasmed four or five times to my two. We needed to shower after because we both were covered in a fine layer of sweat. The bed sheets were tangled and in a mess; we had to remake the bed so that we could get some sleep. She actually came back to the bed naked and cuddled up to me. My arm was around her waist and the heat from her skin kept my cock slightly hard. It was nudging her ass-crack, and she pushed back against me ever so slightly. I slept the sleep of a man who was very happy.

But every once in a while, during really quiet moments when I'm by myself, I think back to that morning when I found the box of condoms in her handbag. I've done my best to try to forget it, but it just won't seem to completely leave me.

I did some research on the internet and after reading about the kajillion tell-tale signs that wives exhibit who are having affairs, I was convinced that Laura wasn't one of those. As well, it was months ago and she had plenty of time to make up a very convincing reason why she would have a box of condoms.

I looked to see if I could detect some of those tell-tale signs that the internet warned me of, and I must tell you that Laura didn't have any of them. So why am I still thinking about that box of condoms?

Because I'm a man and a husband. Yeah.

**********

More months later

That little doubt keeps eating at a part of my brain. You've all experienced a song that keeps playing in your head and won't go away; it's called an 'ear-worm.' Well, I have one, but it isn't a song; it's a picture. I have to know. I have to get this out of my brain and out of the way. I have to do something about this. It's causing me to doubt myself. I'm taking a bit longer in the shower at night before I come to bed and in the morning when I get up and go for my normal run, I'm spending longer and running further and faster. I'm trying to control my emotions and I suppose my anger. But I don't know who to be angry with and for what.

I need help. But what kind of help. How do I get this fucking ear-worm out of my head?

**********

A few more months later

It's been over a year since I found that fucking box of condoms in Laura's handbag. The only substantive outward thing that has changed in that time is that we're all a year older. I got a small promotion at my job and my salary is about 20% more and my annual bonus a slightly bigger percentage of my base salary. The kids are in the next grade and still being kids. There are a couple of new activities added to their schedule so that means less free time for Laura and I. Laura is still the same person that she's always been; same job, but a bit more money. We do lots of things as a family, and Laura and I try our best to spend some quality time together and get out to do things as a couple. Financially we're doing good. The kids are good. It's all good.

But... there is still that one little, tiny thing, that continues to bother me. It comes into my mind less and less, but it's still there and hasn't gone completely away. Why won't it go away? I know in the back of my brain that eventually I have to do something about it. But, when?

**********

My sex life is going great. Laura and I used to make love a couple of times a week, but in the last months I've been pushing the schedule up to three. One of those isn't the slow love that is our normal affair but a hot and sweaty time with a lot of energy put in. Pure raw hard fucking. At the end of things we shower and it's not unusual for me to take her one more time before I need to get some sleep. Earlier I mentioned that sometimes Laura is like a woman on fire. Well, I'm on fire by times, too. I just need to put my cock in her pussy and pound the fuck out of her. I hold her arms above her head and pound away for all bejesus. After I shoot my load, sometimes I'll roll her over onto her hands and knees and take her pussy from behind. I know she likes it. My hands like to hold on to her hips as I bang into her; that and my hands find her tits and I kneed them and pinch her nipples. I especially like a handful of her long hair in one hand and the other holding a hip as I fuck her. That really gets both our motors running.

I'm not planning on making any changes or rocking the boat. The kids are still little and to make a drastic change to our family situation will only be harmful to them. Nope, I'm staying the course for as long as I can. If Laura is the one to tell me that she wants out, then I'll do whatever I have to do to guarantee that my kids are properly taken care of by me. Yup, If she wants out, she'll be the one to lose.

**********

A few more months

The ear-worm had won the tug-of-war and I called an investigative service. I went by their offices and spoke with a woman that did not look like she was an investigator. I mean, she's knock-out good looking, couldn't be more than 35 and truthfully I didn't think that she would be able to help me. My prejudices and misconceptions got in the way and I guess I was expecting a Frank Cannon type who mixed his bourbon with his Maalox and looked rough around the edges. What I got was more Charlies Angels.

We had a long talk about what my concerns were and what information I wanted to get for my money. I wrote down a bunch of things about Laura: where we lived, where she worked, car make, model and plate number, cell phone number, and of course gave her the most recent photo of her I had on my phone.

I handed over a retainer and then after a few questions, I left. Ms. Wolfenstein would call me in a week or so with an update and we would discuss what was going to happen after that. I left her office wondering if I was doing the right thing. Would knowing be better or worse. If Laura was involved with another man, could I look past that for the sake of my family. That was the big 64 million dollar question and I didn't have a clue what the answer was.

**********

Two weeks later

I got a call at my office from Ms. Wolfenstein. She said that she had a preliminary report ready for me. She wanted me to come to her office to be briefed on what she found out and then I could make a decision to end further investigation or carry on.

So, I went. It was not good.

I went in her office and she offered me a bottle of water which I took, opened and had a drink. From the look on her face I figured that this wasn't good news she was prepared to share with me.

She started. It seems that Laura is involved with a man a bit younger than her. His name is Treyvon Williams. He's single. I have a photo of him taken with Laura. They were holding hands. Fuck.

Laura and I are both 35 years old and her boyfriend was about 25. He's tall, good looking, very fit and and very black. He's not black-black but black in the way that the investigator believed that there was a close white blood-relative somewhere in his family.

My brain went in circles and I know that I didn't hear much of what she told me. I was staring at the table and for the love of me, didn't remember later what was said after I looked at the picture of my wife holding hands with another man.

Ms Wolfenstein had stopped talking, but I didn't know when. She sat and looked at me and all I could do was sit with my mouth open and stare at the table.

"Mr. Brady, Mr. Brady, are you okay?" I don't respond.

"Mr. Brady, take a drink of water, please."

"Huh?"

"Please, have a drink of water Mr. Brady."

I looked at the bottle, as if I didn't know how it got in my hand. I took a drink, and then another, and another. I drained the bottle. And then things became even worse.

A waste paper basket was shoved in front of my face and sure enough the contents of my stomach decided that at that very second to make a powerful entry upward. I puked my guts out and it was not nice. When the dry heaves subsided I sat in the chair and the realization that Laura was fucking around started to sink in. Now what do I do?

**********

After the great reveal of Laura's boyfriend in Ms. Wolfenstein's office. I managed to stumble my way back to my own office and close the door.

A few things were going to happen. It seems that Ms. Wolfenstein is married to a lawyer who handles divorce cases as part of his practice. She gave me his business card and told me that she would have him call me and I could talk to him about options. Options. What fucking options?

He did call me, and fairly quickly too. His name is Jordan Walters. A local guy who does a lot of different types of law, including family law. I checked him out on the internet and he has a very good reputation. He wins for his clients. So, I went to see him.

**********

Well, that was fucking informative. After spending an hour with Mr. Walters it seems that if I decide to do something about Laura the net effect will see me getting screwed over by the New York State family law courts. It seems that NY state family law courts are pretty much of the opinion that only the mother is fit to take care of children (that's a really old, if you ask me) and that fathers are very much left to pay for everything else that the family might otherwise have if the family is still together.

Yes, I can see that the family law judges experience a lot of fathers that come to their courts that are deadbeats and are trying to avoid paying for their children and thus they have a duty to protect the children from those same deadbeat fathers. But, in cases where the father is responsible and is capable and is wanting to be the one to take care of his children, then the court needs to take notice and deal fairly with fathers, and mothers.

Mothers are not always squeaky clean here, either. Some women are not meant to be mothers and so the father is the logical alternative to making the children suffer at the hands of a person that doesn't really want those children. Courts see many examples of mothers that have drug addictions, mental health issues, and other conditions that would indicate that the children would be better off with the father. The cases that break my heart are the ones where neither parent is fit to raise the children and they end up with a grandparent or in the faster-care system. That sucks.

You will not believe the advice that my new lawyer gave me. I still don't believe it.

Jordan and I had a very detailed discussion about what's important to me in my marriage to Laura and what I held as a priority with my children. I started out telling Jordan what I wanted to do now that I knew that Laura was unfaithful to me. I wanted to divorce her. Plain and simple. I wanted her out and away from me and my kids. I wanted to keep the house, the kids and have her pay some of the child support costs.

Jordan looked at me and I could tell from the expression on his face that he figured I was delusional. I suppose I might have set my expectations a bit high, but cripes, I'm not the one having a relationship with another person outside our marriage. Would a family law court penalize me as the one who is the injured party here? Seems that they very will might.

At the end of our discussion and his recommendation to me, I left and walked part of the way back to my office. I stopped to get a much needed cup of coffee at a Starbucks and sat for while just looking out the window and watching people go by. I thought about what Jordan had advised me to do. He had apologized to me for what he recommended but said that he had seen too many of his clients make rash decisions in the heat of anger and live to regret that decision. He had left me with two pieces of advice: don't do anything stupid, and for now, do nothing.

The first part was pretty simple. If I did something to try and get some measure of revenge on the guy that Laura was having sex with, I'd likely end up in jail and then anything I wanted from the family law court would be denied right away. No judge would give me custody of my children with an assault conviction and a criminal record. Besides that it would impact my professional career and fuck up my life as a whole. No, losing my cool and doing something stupid was out. Besides, that just wasn't me.

The second part of Jordan's advice was the really the hard part: do nothing. Could I sit idly by and do nothing? Could I allow Laura the luxury of carrying on with her affair or would I try to boot her arse to the curb? I so wanted to do that last part. There had to be consequences for what she was doing. But Jordan had cautioned me that this was a long-game and that patience was really needed if I was to see success. I wasn't sure I had that much patience.

When I went home, armed with my new-found knowledge and sage legal advice, I looked at Laura and she was no different than she's always been. The kids were the same, being busy being kids. I didn't say much to anyone but got changed and got a beer from the refrigerator.

Laura looked at me and said, "Go easy on the beer, we have soccer tonight." I put the unopened bottle back in the refrigerator. We had a quick supper and then loaded into the car and off to the soccer field. All so normal.