We were up against it. Credit card debt was eating us up and we always seemed to be on the verge of not being able to make the house payment. It was our own fault of course, I'd had a good paying job, the money coming in was more that enough to cover our bills and like a lot of people we lived at the level of our income. But my good job had disappeared when the company I worked for was bought out and 183 of us were let go. The only jobs I could find paid a good one third less than the one I'd had so we were automatically on the slippery slope toward bankruptcy. Finally Velma told me that she was going to get a job to get some extra money coming in. This was pretty much a kick in the teeth to me as I had been brought up to believe that the man supported the household and the woman took care of it, but that would be a moot point if we lost the house.

Velma had become a housewife without ever having had a job. Her parents had given her a good allowance and she went from high school to college to marriage so she had no saleable skills, but she was determined to try. After two months she had nothing to show for her efforts except several call backs from Burger King, McDonalds and the like, all wanting her to work 24 hour weeks with split shifts which of course she wasn't interested in. Then one of her girl friends told her about a lounge that was looking for a few good cocktail waitresses and the only job qualifications were the ability to be able to handle yourself around a bunch of rowdy men and woman and to look good in the uniform that was supplied. I wasn't too keen on the idea, but we did need the money so I told Velma that she could look into it.

Velma went to the lounge and applied for the job and when she came home that afternoon she said that the job was hers, but only on the condition that I would never come in to the lounge while she was working - any other time was okay, but never while she was on duty. The owner, a man named Cliff, told her that he did not like to hire married women because of all the trouble he'd had with jealous husbands. The uniform she would wear showed a lot of cleavage and the skirt was short and showed a lot of leg (I had a quick image of Velma in a uniform like that - slim, narrow waisted and with 38 C cup breasts she would be an attention getter). The whole marketing strategy was to hire good-looking waitresses to attract male customers who would then sit and drink while enjoying the scenery. The problems happened when a husband would come into the lounge and then get pissed at a customer who he thought was paying too much attention to his wife. It had happened so often that Cliff had just about made up his mind to not hire any more married women. I could see that getting this job meant a lot to Velma and I'd never been much for spending time in bars anyway so I told her she could tell Cliff I'd stay away unless invited by him.

Velma started the next day. Her shift was from noon until nine, Tuesday through Saturday and she got Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday off on every fourth weekend. Seven months went by with Velma making some very good money, mostly in tips and then her days started to get longer and longer. At first it was until ten, then eleven, then midnight, and finally she was working until closing on some nights. She said Cliff was having a hard time finding good help and she was making good money working the extra hours to cover the shifts. I wasn't happy about her long hours, but the money was good and we were digging ourselves out of the hole. By the end of the seventh month we had paid off two credit cards, were two months ahead on the house payments, and actually had two grand in savings. Also on the plus side our sex life had greatly improved. We went from twice a week to sometimes five and six times a week. And the way we had sex changed too. Velma had never liked having her pussy eaten, but now almost every session started with us doing a sixty-nine. Many were the nights that I'd be in bed asleep when she would get home and she would wake me up by sucking my dick and then move into a sixty-nine position and push her hot, wet pussy into my face. Hot and wet - that was the part I couldn't figure, her pussy was always very wet when she came home. Velma told me it was because of all the sexual tension at work; the guys always hitting on her and making propositions, and all the "accidental" touching had her hot by the end of her shift. Hey! Who was I to complain? I was getting great sex, we were climbing out of debt and things couldn't have been better. And then a developer started building houses on the vacant field behind our house. All of the construction and earth moving disturbed the field mice and so they all went looking for a new home. Several had invaded out house and for weeks I'd been setting traps and trying to control them. One day I saw one of the little rascal's dart into Velma's sewing room and I went in after him. I saw him go under the closet door and when I opened the door he ran behind some shoeboxes in one corner. I took the top off one of the shoeboxes and dumped the contents on the floor and then I turned it upside down and managed to trap the little bugger under it. After disposing of the mouse I went back to pick up the stuff I'd dumped on the floor. One of the items was a bankbook for a savings account. Out of curiosity I opened it and was surprised to see that it was for a current account and that it had a balance of $33,618.12 and that the date of the last deposit was one week ago. The rest of the papers were bank statements, addressed to Velma at the lounge, and they showed that in addition to the savings account, Velma had a checking account with a balance of $3,287.62. I knelt there stunned by the discovery and wondered just what the hell was going on. I put everything back where I found it and went into the kitchen, made myself a stiff drink and tried to figure out what to do.