The Magi(cal) Mystery Tour

"Della was a soon favorite and made a lot of tips along with putting smiles on the men's faces. She did all this, not by dancing, or meeting the men after work, but by smiling, doing her job, and of course looking like every man's wet dream. I never had a part time employee, or even a full timer, make the tips Della did, and all the time maintaining her dignity. They may seem impossible to many people not in the business, but take it from me. It can be done, and Della did it."

"Della," interrupted Helen, "why did you get the job at a strip club?"

"I wanted to get Jim something really special for Christmas," sobbed Della. "He never gets anything for himself. It's always for the kids or me. He has been a wonderful father and husband, at least until he started working as a male escort. I wanted to give him that Hemi engine he needs for that wonderful old car his father gave to him. He has the body repaired and painted so it looks like new. I found an ad for the engine he wanted and it even had four or five barrels, which is supposed to be really good."

"So, Della, you made enough money working for Frank to buy that engine for Jim?" asked Helen gently.

"Not exactly," responded Della slowly as she nervously played with her glass. "The money was way better than I would ever get at a "normal' part time job, though."

"Della, why as a topless waitress? We have kids and you're a mother! What kind of message does that send? What about me? Prancing around almost naked in public is not something I would ever allow my wife to do. That's why you never consulted me about that job. You knew I would be furious, so you lied to me!" I growled.

"You worked as a male escort and you complain about me?" questioned Della. "That's way worse than me letting a few men see my tits! They're just body parts. You were giving strange women something you almost never give to me. You gave them attention and consideration. You took them places and danced and dined with them. I just let men look at me. I didn't make any emotional connections!"

"That's not the way Frank talks!" I shot back. "He seems to think a lot of patrons thought you were pretty special. I'm the only one that's supposed to see your breasts, damn it!"

"You have never been denied the opportunity to see them, or even more, Jim. I, on the other hand, have been denied the pleasure of gambling cruises, dinner shows, and concerts with you! You gave that to other women and cheated me!" she spat.

How did she know so much about my "dates" with my lady clients? It seemed that Helen had told a few stories out of school. They were all against me.

"Jim, your wife has some great tits and you should be proud of her," interjected Frank. "The guys love how hard her nipples get and..."

"Frank! Shut the hell up!" snarled Helen. "That may seem like a nice thing to say to a crude moron like you, but it sure isn't making Jim feel better!"

"Jim," continued Helen. "I worked in Frank's club for almost ten years after we were married, except when I was very pregnant with our daughter. He doesn't think like you do. He sees it as business and not as a personal thing. Men looking at my breasts never upset him, but I was always faithful to him and he knew that. What others thought never mattered to us. I'm sure Della came all the way down to West Palm so she wouldn't run into anyone that knew her. I think you went to West Palm for the same reason."

"Della, showing your breasts is worse than me working as an escort to earn enough extra money to buy you a nice gift. I never even came close to having sex with any of the women!" I added indignantly.

"Have you been listening, Jim?" asked Helen. "Maybe to a man, having a wife show her body to other men is as bad as it gets, except for actual cheating. To a woman, having a husband charm and court other women, escort them to nice places and have pleasant evenings with them is the ultimate infidelity. It can even hurt more than an actual affair. You were allowing others something that you had promised only to your wife... your intimate companionship. Not sex, but something even better to many women, charming, considerate sharing of wonderful evenings."

I was beginning to realize that I might have been a bit pompous in my attitude. Women really thought that much of a little companionship? I was the bad guy? I didn't think so, but I decided that I had to shoulder some of the blame to keep our marriage from crumbling.

"Maybe I should have told Della what I was doing, but she would never have agreed, even if I did it to buy her something nice for Christmas," I asserted.

"Jim, there's nothing I want or that you could give me that would be better than your faithful, wonderful love!" sobbed Della.

I knew I had lost. Della was my wife and my love. I was angry as hell with her, but I couldn't lose her over this situation. It was Christmas Eve and I wanted my family together, and with me.

I stood and circled the table. Della rose and threw herself into my arms. I could feel those tits Frank had bragged about a few minutes earlier pressed against my chest and I reveled in the pleasure it brought to me.

"Jim, I was wrong. I know that. I knew it at the time, but I wanted so much to get you the engine for your car. It will help make this all better! I know it will. When you're riding around in that beautiful Road Runner, you'll think about how very much I love you!" cried Della.

"Well," I hesitated. "I sold that old car for most of the money I needed to buy your Grandmother's set. It was just sitting around, rusting away. I was never going to get it running and you loved your grandmother's collection so much."

"God! Jim, that car was given to you by your father! You loved that car! You should have told me what you were thinking. I would never have allowed it!" cried Della. Now I have an engine for a car that you no longer own and you have the remainder of a furniture set to complement the piece I no longer have!"

"What?" I demanded. "You don't have that piece we bought any more?"

"Jim, I had to sell it to get enough money to buy that engine for your car!" wailed Della. "That furniture didn't mean as much as that wonderful Road Runner that you and your Dad loved so much!"

"I think you both can learn a couple things here," suggested Helen. "You have each demonstrated a tremendous love for the other. You've also shown an amazing lack of consideration and communication. That destroys marriages, even with the greatest love between the couples. You both need to work on trust and communication."

"Yeah," added Frank. "And Jim needs to work on getting that engine in his car. I was buying it through a straw buyer. I collect classic cars and yours is a really good one. Keep it and pay me back when you can."

"And Della will have to refinish her furniture while Jim is working on his car," laughed Helen. "My best friend was the buyer of Della's piece and she's agreed to sell it to me, for a small profit. Della, you can repay me, as you are able. Merry Christmas!"

"Helen! Frank! You are such wonderful people! How can we ever repay you?" gushed Della as she clutched me tightly.

Helen took a swing at Frank's ribs as he responded to Della's rhetorical question with a grin.

"I can still use a girl with tits like yours at the club."