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She gets ready for a date that's been a long time coming.

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.

Not being much of a sports fan, she told me that she had been married to a very famous sportswriter, that is, until he dumped her for a 23-year-old bimbo. Even though she told me his name, I had no idea who he was, until I told my football friends and they asked me to get his autograph and asked me to see if I could get tickets to a game.

Her older son followed in Daddy's footsteps and became a broadcaster of baseball, football, basketball, and hockey. Only, as soon as his father died, those in charge, those who hated the father, took it out on the son. They pulled the rug out from under him and didn't renew his contract. No longer a big time sportscaster for professional sports, he was demoted to doing college games.

Only, I kind of got the feeling, after she confessed so much to me about her personal life, that she wanted to use me to get back at her ex-husband. Hey, I wasn't about to complain. I like being used and abused, especially when we're both naked and especially when the user and abuser looked as good as she did.

She invited me down to her beach house and said that we could walk to the beach from her house. Her husband got most everything else, the main house, the boat, the cars, and most of the money. Both their sons were adults, so there wasn't alimony or child support involved. It turned out that her husband was a very powerful and scary man with connections to the Irish mob. I had no idea I was playing with fire by playing with her.

She invited down for the weekend, only I'd be lucky to get away for the day. I was a married man and she knew that I was married. Yet, both of us seemed to forget that one small issue. I lied to my wife that I had to work all day Saturday, so down to her house I drove with my change of clothes bag stashed in the trunk of my car.

I showed up at her door early Saturday morning and she showed me her house.

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