Amy and I went into the restaurant. The guy greeting us noticed her freshly fucked pussy exposed to all who looked. His pants outlined his dick as he led us to our table near the rear of the dining room. More than one husband got his arm slapped as we went by. "Michele will be with you shortly," our host said. "Here is our wine list." He was breathing heavily as he walked away.
I pushed the wine list aside. Tears flowed down my cheeks. Amy's eyes showed that she was genuinely concerned about my feelings. "I understand why you are upset," she said.
"Of course I'm upset. What do you expect? After twenty years of fabulous, lust filled marriage, my wife tells me she is a prostitute."
She looked down at the table. Her jerking back confirmed that she was crying. When she raised her head, her makeup was smeared with her tears. "I never wanted you to know. Please, Ed. You have to believe me."
"Then why did you announce it, tonight of all nights? On our anniversary? And in front of those two kids? You were right about advertising."
"I don't know. It just came out. It seemed like a natural part of the conversation. He mentioned escort prices. I guess I thought I should confirm what he said."
I took my handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her. "Your makeup is running."
"Thank you." She took the cloth and dabbed her cheeks. "I probably have to go to the ladies' room to fix my face. Look. When you divorce me, I won't contest it. You will get everything, including the children. The court will definitely rule that I am an unfit mother and deny me even visiting privileges."
"Wait a minute! Wait a four-letter-word minute! You are anything but an unfit mother. We are both very involved with their lives. I've heard them tell their friends that we are the coolest parents. There is no way that I would hurt them. Our divorce would destroy them."
"So we should stay together for their sakes? That's very noble, but they would see the change in our relationship. They would see that something was wrong." She gave me back the handkerchief. "I have to fix my makeup." She got up and went to the restroom.
Even before the ladies' room door closed, a woman three tables away stood up and stomped over to me. "How dare you bring that tramp into a respectable place like this?" she shouted.
"She is not a tramp. She is my wife," I growled.
"I am not stupid enough to believe that. If she comes anywhere near my husband I will kill her."
"And then you would spend the rest of your life in prison. I could have you locked up for threatening her life. If you were smart, you would know that."
Amy had been standing by the restroom holding the front of her dress closed. The instant I said wife, she released it and strode proudly back to our table. Facing the woman, she sat down with her legs spread wide apart. "Are you soliciting my husband?" she demanded.
"I'm a decent woman, unlike you."
"We are very happily married," Amy said as she held up her left hand. I held mine next to hers to display our matching wedding bands. "Somehow I suspect you aren't. Now go back to your table and pay more attention to your own marriage." As the woman walked away, Amy turned to me. "Thank you for defending me."
"You are my wife," I said. "It's my duty as your husband."