I worked with Wilma. She was a store manager for one of our retail stores and I was the inventory control accountant. It was my job to take a physical inventory once a month.
We had three retail stores spread throughout the city. We sold collectible items of very high quality and value, numismatic and philatelic items of interest, coins and stamps, some of which sold for tens of thousands of dollars. In addition we sold all the collectible accessories that went with it, coin holders, stamp albums, hinges, tweezers, magnifying glasses, et al. A time consuming task, taking the inventory of each store took several hours.
Normally women don't confess their age but, for some reason, Wilma told me that she was 42-years-old. She looked younger, thirty-something and I had figured she was in her late thirties. I found out later that she was 45-years-old. Wow, definitely, she didn't look that, didn't even look 42-years-old.
At the time, I was 27-years-old. This was the second time that I was attracted to an older woman, the first older woman I was attracted to was Gertrude, but that's another story for another time. Just as in the case of Gertrude, Wilma was old enough to be my Mom, aunt, or really big and older sister.
More interested in women my age, I really didn't think much of Wilma, other than I thought that she was very pretty, of course, and had a hot body. She was 5'6" and 120 pounds, but she was so much older than me. I figured she'd never be interested in someone my age. Boy, was I wrong. She was a horny little thing.
Hanging around the store taking an inventory, especially when the store wasn't all that busy, Wilma helped me count some of the merchandise and, of course, we'd get to talking, teasing, fooling around, and shooting innuendoes back and forth. Other than she was fun and funny, truly, I didn't think anything of it. I just figured she was friendly, is all, and had a great personality.
She said she used to be a dancer when she was younger, another lifetime ago. She said that she used to enjoy playing tennis at the country club. I figured she was making that up about the country club, because even though she was articulate and intelligent, she didn't look the country club type. A tough broad, she was a little rough around the edges.
I figured her for a local city girl and I was right. She was a local city girl who married well and then divorced terribly. Controlled most of her life by a powerful man, her story was a sad story.
She did have great hair and nice legs, though, a great smile, and pretty eyes. I liked her. I thought she was fun and interesting, and when I wasn't around her, something weird happened. I missed her.
She was a Gemini. Immediately, with me being a Leo the lion, we hit it off. Every day when I collected the daily cash receipts, she told me a joke. She was funny. She was fun. After already being married for nearly half a dozen years, my wife had stopped being fun and funny.
Wilma was my diversion. Every day I looked forward to seeing her and hearing her new joke of the day and it was always the kind of joke that really didn't make me laugh until later, when I was thinking about her and remembering her joke. Suddenly, sitting in my car driving home, I'd be laughing my ass off over the joke that Wilma told me.
Only, this day was different. There wasn't a soul in the store. It was dead. She was leaning over the counter watching me take the end of month inventory. When I stood from my squatting position, I could see right down her open top. Her entire bra was visible. She looked down at her open top and without reaching to fix it, she looked up at me and smiled. Well, that's enough for a guy my age, someone with more testosterone than sense, to ask her to marry him.