It was about two months later when Michelle had gone off to another shift at Ms. Alison's when the unthinkable happened. James had already left for work and in fact, had arrived at the office before Michelle left the house. She was very careful about the time-lapse. She didn't want him to turn around and come home because he forgot something and find her not at home.

Her shift at Ms. Alison's was uneventful; she had five or six "dates" and left them all happily satisfied before it was time for her to go home. On the way home, her thoughts were on what she would fix for dinner and what she and James would do that weekend.

James had talked about going to the cabin for a couple of days of "getting away from it all". Michelle loved the cabin and the walks through the woods she and James took. The rowboat and dock on the lake and seeing all the wildlife that always came around. It was the perfect place as far as Michelle was concerned.

Michelle had no way of knowing that about five hours prior, James had come home, not feeling well, and found she was not at home. He had no idea where she might be, and she hadn't taken her cell phone so he couldn't call her.

Curious, he began calling around ... calling her friends, calling her parents, calling everywhere he thought she could possibly be. Now he was worried– this was not like Michelle to be gone like this. He didn't know what had happened but he was going to find out!

James was just about to call the police when Michelle walked through the door, completely unaware of who was home waiting for her.

"JAMES! W-what are you doing home?" she said, dropping her makeup case with a great thud.

"What are you doing NOT at home?" he asked. She looked at his face. James was pissed. In fact, he was beyond pissed–he was furious!

"I-I was at Kim's house. She needed help with someth ..." she started to explain. But he cut her off mid-sentence.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" he shouted at her. "I called Kim and she hadn't seen you for the past couple of days. Now tell me the truth ... where were you?" he said.

Michelle fell to her knees and sat on her ankles, her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. She knew she was caught and she knew that James was not going to like the answers to his questions.

He was an understanding and supportive man usually but this–this would test him beyond anything she had given him before. He was vehemently opposed to her working as it was, much less working as a whore!

"James, I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry! Please I never meant to hurt you! Please!" she sobbed.

"Just answer the question, Michelle. Where have you been?" he said, his arms folded across his chest and a stormy, impatient look on his face.

"O-okay, James. But you'd better sit down for this," she said quietly. James took a seat on the sofa nearby and Michelle came to kneel on the floor a couple of feet in front of him. James had never hit her or even raised his hand to her in anger. But then she'd never dropped a bomb like this on him either!

James sat on the sofa with his hands clasped in his lap, his fingers interlaced. He watched her carefully waiting for his answer. Michelle looked up into his face fearfully, uncertain what the next few minutes would bring. Knowing she could stall no longer, she took a deep breath and began.

"James before I tell you, please know that I love you. I have always loved you, and nothing will ever change that. But being left here all alone while you are off working was driving me crazy.

I mean, I had my housework, but I was done with that about an hour or two into my day. And the rest of the day I just puttered around the house, watched some TV, and tried to find something to do with myself.

"I know I told you that all I wanted was to be a housewife and take care of you, the house, and kids when they come along. But that was before I realized just how little time of my day that would take. You have given me all these time-saving and labor-saving devices and I love them, but they only make my day longer by making it easier–do you understand that?" she said.

"Yeah, I suppose I do. But what has that got to do with where you have been all day?" he asked.

"Well, I needed something to do, something to occupy my day. So I went out and got a job. I know you didn't want me to but I couldn't stand it anymore, James! I'm sorry!" she said.

"A job, huh. Well, I guess that's not so bad. Maybe I was a bit strict on that. What kind of job did you find?" he asked.

"Oh James, please don't ask me that! Please honey, I will quit tomorrow, I promise!" she said terrified.

"What kind of job?" he demanded. He was not going to let this go until everything was out in the open.

"I work at Ms. Alison's," she said in a whisper.

"What? Speak up where do you work?" he asked again.

"I work as Ms. Alison's," she said again, louder this time.

"Ms. Alison's? What is that some sort of craft store or something?" he asked.

"No it's a ... a brothel," she said, hanging her head and waiting for the inevitable.

"A WHAT?" he said, jumping to his feet.

"I'm sorry, James I'm so sorry! Please I won't do it anymore! Please! I love you!" she said cringing. She'd never seen him so enraged and it scared her. Not because she was afraid he'd hit her–she wouldn't blame him if he slapped her senseless. But what she was afraid of was losing him. The thought that this could end their marriage absolutely terrified her.

"YOU ARE A WHORE?" he yelled, "My beautiful wife is a fucking whore?"

James' reaction was too much for her to take. She leaned forward, still sitting on her heels, and put her forehead on the floor, bawling like she'd never cried before. She couldn't stand hurting him this way–it tore her heart out to know she had done such a dirty and disrespectful thing like this to him.

James just sat there stunned, his mouth hanging open. His mind conjured up all sorts of images of Michelle–his sweet Michelle–being fucked by another faceless man, or sucking his cock as he grunts and sweats and cums all over her angelic face.

James sat there for several moments as these images crossed the movie screen of his mind. His wife was a whore–she fucked other men for money and she liked it! He went through every porn movie clip he'd seen but instead of the porn queen, he saw Michelle's face in every scene.

Suddenly he stormed off towards the bedroom, leaving Michelle balled up and crying on the living room floor. After a couple of minutes, she got up to go talk to him. She turned the corner and saw him throwing clothes into a suitcase.

"James! What are you doing? she said.

"I have to get out of here. I need time to think. Alone," he said.

"No James! Please! Oh God, please no! Don't go!" she said, grabbing onto him. But he just pulled away and left the room. And as she stood there in the bedroom, she heard the front door slam.

Michelle fell face-first onto the bed–their bed–and curled up like a little girl crying her eyes out.

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The next few days were a dark gray blur to Michelle. She continued to go to work at Ms. Alison's, but now it was just so she wouldn't have to go back to that house, where her life had come crashing down on her. Plus, she needed a source of income, because she wasn't sure if she would remain married or not!

It was hard for her to feel sexy or aroused but she had become a fairly decent actress since starting to work at Ms. Alison's and she covered herself well enough. She was working more now which gave her more money, but that did little to make up for the fact that James wasn't home.

She hadn't heard a word from him and he hadn't gone back to work either. She didn't know where he was staying or even if he was still in southern California anymore. James' parents lived in northern California in Red Bluff while James and Michelle lived in Anaheim. Or at least they used to. Michelle still did, but she wasn't so sure about James.

Michelle was just arriving home with a couple of bags of groceries she had picked up on her way home when she saw James' car parked in the driveway. Overjoyed at the chance to see and talk to him again, she could hardly get the door open fast enough.

"James! James!" she called out to him as she set the bags on the table. She ran through the house looking for him and finally, he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Oh, James! James!" Michelle cried out as she ran at him. Just as she was about to leap into his arms and hug the life from him, he held up his hand.

"Stop. I'm just here to get a few things," he said matter-of-factly.

"James please ... can't we at least talk about this?" she asked.

"Oh, so you want to talk about this? Yes, let's do that, let's talk about this. Suppose you start by explaining how you came up with such a hair-brained idea like becoming a fucking prostitute?" he said angrily.

"James, please," she said trying to calm him down. "I only started working because I wanted something to do. I needed to find a job that I could set the hours so I could be home when you got home.

"And I knew how you felt about my working so it had to be a job that you wouldn't find out about–one that wouldn't call me at home and one you wouldn't find any trace of. I looked around at different things I really did.

"But nothing fit both of those criteria. I couldn't do office work, because the hours didn't work. I couldn't work from home because you would see the evidence. I got desperate until Katie told me about Ms. Alison's," Michelle explained.

"Oh, so Katie put you up to this, did she?" he asked, angry again.

"It wasn't like that. Katie ran into some money troubles in college and she had to entertain to earn money to keep going to school. Otherwise, she would have wasted the years she had already put in and all the money she had been given.

"She said a lot of college girls find themselves in a bind and Ms. Alison helps them out. It's really a nice place James–you'd never know it was a brothel unless you went there," she said.

"That may be so, Michelle, but you are not some scatterbrained college girl. You are my wife. What would our friends say? Or my parents, God forbid!" he said.

"James, honey, the only way any of our friends would find out is if they visited Ms. Alison's themselves. And if they did, they would be too embarrassed or afraid of ratting themselves out to say anything! As for your parents, they live over 500 miles away. I seriously doubt they would 'bump into me' at work!

"And remember there are 350,000 people in Anaheim alone, not to mention all the other towns in the Los Angeles area. The odds of us running into anyone we know accidentally is very remote," she said.

"But dammit Michelle, I would know! How can sex be special between us if you fuck for a living? And what if you got someone ... better than me?" James said.

"Oh, honey, sex between us is always special–that will never change. Baby, I love you–I don't love those other men. That's what sets you apart from them and it's a huge difference believe me. With them, it's just work and a way to earn some money. A business arrangement, that's all. You are my husband. You are my lover. And you are the one I will always come home to," she said. 

"And as for 'someone better' ... you don't have to worry there either. You are the best lover I ever had and no one holds a candle to you, baby!" she giggled.

"But is it safe? I mean what if something happened?" he asked.

"It's very safe. First off, I work in Ms. Alisons's brothel, not out on the streets like other girls. So all that street trouble doesn't happen. Secondly, there are three huge bouncers–Rick, Tommy, and Dave–to watch out for trouble and keep the customers in line. Ms. Alison calls them her goon squad and they are the hugest men I have ever seen!

"And Ms. Alison has very strict rules about what does and does not go on in her house. All the girls can decide what things they want to do and what they don't want to do. She pairs up the john with the right girl so he gets what he wants.

"And Ms. Alison is very strict about the use of condoms. Nobody plays without protection and we have to be tested for STDs every three months just to make sure everyone feels at ease.

"Like I said, James, Ms. Alisons's is a very clean, very safe place. It's probably safer than most office jobs anymore, to be honest," Michelle explained.

"It all sounds well-thought-out, I will say that. So ... how much do you make at this?" he asked.

"Well, I don't work as much as some of the girls there. I only do a few hours a couple of days a week–well until you left, that is. Lately, I have had to put in more time, but before you left I was making between $250 and $400 a shift.

"Working full-time as I have lately though, I am bringing in around $500 to $600 a shift–depending, of course, on how busy we are and what I have to do," she said.

"Really? You make that much every night?" he said stunned.

"Yes, James. I was surprised at first myself. I mean, I'm not one of those young perky college girls. But Ms. Alison explained that being older and more mature was what made me special. I am older and more experienced and a lot of men want a woman instead of a ditzy college girl.

"The girls get their share of work, don't get me wrong. But I seem to be one of the more popular girls. I even have guys who come in and request me by name! You want to talk about an ego boost–getting picked out of a room full of young hotties makes me feel pretty damn good!" she said with a smile.

James sat there and listened to all she had to say. And she did make it sound pretty good. Still, a whore? James would have to give this some time to sink in.

"Okay Michelle, I have listened to what you had to say and I'm not as mad as I was at first. But this is a lot to take in and I'm still not sure how to deal with it all. I am going to need some time to think about what I'm going to do," he said.

"So you aren't staying?" Michelle asked, disappointed that her explanations didn't win him back.

"Michelle I want to stay. I really do. I still love you and I want to work things out, believe me. But I am going to need some time to process what you have told me and figure out how I can accept your being a "working girl".

"See, I can't even call you a whore anymore! I don't know what I'm going to do. My head is buzzing and I need to sort things out. So I am going to go ... for now. But I will be in touch again when I have a plan of what I'm going to do," he said.

"Can I at least know where you are at or call you or something to know you are okay?" she asked.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea. I will leave a message on your machine from time to time to let you know I'm still okay, so you won't worry. But talking anymore about this will only confuse me more," he said.

Michelle wasn't thrilled with his decision, but she knew that arguing with him would only push him away again. She would have to let him work things out for himself and hope that he comes back to her.

Sadly she walked him to the door with the things he had come to get. She watched him pack up the car and then he came back to say goodbye.

"Goodbye Michelle, I'll be in touch," he said.

"James, please honey, take care of yourself and be sure to eat," she said, trying hard not to cry.

"I will. And you be careful–you know what I mean," he said.

"I will, I promise. I love you, James," she said. He turned without another word and got in his car and drove off. Michelle watched him until the car turned the corner at the end of the block, then she went inside and sat down at the dining room table and had another good cry.

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Michelle went on with her days as best she could. She was comforted a bit in knowing that at least her marriage to James hadn't been shot down in flames just yet and that he was willing to think about things.

Their last confrontation about her job was a lot more explosive; this one was more civil! Things could still go either way, but she could see they were making some headway towards reconciliation.

James wasn't the type to fly off the handle and make rash, impetuous decisions. However, this situation was extreme and stretched even his limits.

One day she was at Ms. Alison's working her regular shift. She'd had a couple of "dates" already that shift, and was settled in downstairs waiting for another when a man walked in the front door.

He was wearing a long trenchcoat and a wide-brimmed hat pulled down so his face was hidden. He was obviously embarrassed to be seen there. He walked up to one of the young college girls and spoke to her in hushed tones so as not to be overheard.

"Michelle, honey, this gentleman would like to see you," the young girl said.

"Sure thing. Come with me baby I know where we can talk a lot easier!" she said. And she started up the stairs. The man in the trenchcoat followed behind her a few steps.

Michelle knew that her men friends liked her to go up the stairs first, that way they got a nice view of her tight round ass, which she felt was her best feature. The man followed her to the room she had claimed that day and she went in first while he shut the door behind him.

"Okay, baby, what can I do for ... JAMES!!" she squealed as the man took off his hat and coat. "What? But how? How did you find me?" she asked, still stunned he was there.

"I followed you from the house. I wasn't sure when you went to work, but I knew it was after I would normally leave for the office. So I sat in the car a few houses down the street until you left and followed you here.

"Once I saw where the place was, I drove around for a while to let you get settled in and to work up the courage to come in. I wanted to see where you worked ... and see you,"

"Oh James, Oh sweetheart, I have missed you so much!" she said.

"I have missed you too, Michelle," he said softly. 

She stepped closer to him, looking into his face. "Can I ...?"

He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. She instantly melted into him, laying her head on his chest and clutching him tightly.

"Oh James, James I love you so much! I am so sorry! I'm sorry for everything!" she said, her voice quivering as she spoke. 
He held her close for a moment or two enjoying the feeling of having her in his arms again. Then he pushed her back to look at her.

"Sit down, Michelle," he said indicating to sit on the edge of the bed. She sat down not sure what to expect next.

"Michelle, I've done a lot of thinking over the past two weeks. I've considered what you told me about being bored and wanting something to keep you occupied. I will tell you that being a prostitute would not have been my first solution, but you are and I have to deal with that.

"I also thought about what you said about the job and about Ms. Alison's rules and I have to admit this place is not what I expected to see in a brothel.

"That being said, I am still not real comfortable with the idea of my wife fucking strange men. When we met you told me all you wanted out of life was a husband to love and a home to take care of. You were the Donna Reed housewife type which was just what I was looking for too. Now I am sitting here in a whorehouse talking with Debbie from Debbie Does Dallas! 

"But I guess if this is something you want, then I will have to get used to the idea. I don't want you sitting at home bored out of your mind and feeling like a caged animal. I don't want you wishing for more from life because people who aren't satisfied with their position in life soon find a way to change it–as you have shown me already.

"I guess what I am saying Michelle, is that I would rather have a whore wife than have no wife at all. So if you want to continue working here, it's okay with me. Ms. Alison seems to take care of her girls and I trust you to keep it professional. I just want us to get back to the way we were before all this," he said.

"I do too, James, more than anything in the world. Thank you, baby, thank you for understanding, and thank you for accepting this. I promise you that you will always, always come first in my life honey.

"I may have sex with these other men for money but I have sex with you for something their money can't ever buy. I love you, James Allen Stewart. With all my heart," she said, holding him tightly.

Epilogue:
James and Michelle did get things patched up between them and soon after they were back just like before. Only now, Michelle wasn't stuck at home bored. She had a job that, while maybe not socially acceptable, gave them both a serious boost in their household income.

They both agreed though, that the money she made at Ms. Alison's should be put into a separate bank account. This account would be used for emergencies or big purchases like new appliances or maybe a vacation someplace. They would live on James's regular pay so it wouldn't look like they were living above their means and attract unwanted attention.

And James found Michelle's new job gave her a new desire for him as well. Despite the fact she had sex all day long, when she came home, she looked forward to making love to him.

"I get paid to have sex with them, baby. I WANT to have sex with you!" she would say. And she learned a few new tricks that she loved using on her man once she got home. It made their love life–and their regular life–so much better!