My Friend Irma, You just can’t find a better friend than Irma

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After agreeing to meet, I was both excited and nervous. I was excited because I looked at it as a chance to meet (and probably fuck) a woman that I had gotten to know and like, and nervous because I was afraid of what it might do to my conscious, and my relationship with my wife. I’ve ogled and fantasized about other women over the years, but have never even thought seriously about taking any action. In fact, I’ve deliberately avoided situations where I’d get into lengthy conversations with attractive women, mainly to avoid the temptation to do more than just talk.

My sex life with my wife was an on-again, off-again affair, and currently it was off-again. The more I thought about it, the more I began to rationalize fucking Irma. ‘After all, she’s 58, probably not very attractive and I’d be doing her a favor, relieving some of her frustrations. Sure, it would be a humanitarian act on my part, right? Then again, I’d probably get turned off upon seeing her in her wrinkled, flabby state. I’ll put off making a decision until I see her, yeah, that’s what I’ll do.’ Procrastination may be my middle name.

I arrived in Denver on schedule, picked up my rental car, got myself checked into the hotel and caught a bite to eat before venturing to the vendor’s facility for a short kick-off meeting that afternoon.

The short kick-off meeting lasted the better part of four hours, after which I made it back to the hotel, showered and changed into some casual clothes in preparation for my first meeting with Irma. At 7:00 sharp, I made my way down to the lounge.

I entered the dimly lit bistro and began to search for my friend Irma. I was looking for an elderly brunette in a black skirt and red blouse. I scanned the room and found no one matching that description. There were only two women in the lounge, a very young business traveler (judging from her navy blue business suit) who was surrounded by three men at a nearby table, and an attractive brunette at the far end of the bar. The brunette was being entertained by an obviously drunk man in a gray business suit, who it appeared was trying his best to put a move on her, as he was draped all over her. I couldn’t see her skirt, and she did have a red sweater, but her pretty, youthful face (no wrinkles that I could see) convinced me that she couldn’t be Irma.

I concluded that Irma hadn’t arrived as yet, took a seat at the bar, ordered a beer, and continued to watch the show the brunette and her obviously drunken suitor were putting on at the other end of the bar. As I watched, she appeared to be fighting him off, and the more she fought him off, the more aggressive and belligerent he became. Just as I was prepared to go to her rescue, she looked up at me and we made eye contact. She looked me over for a few seconds, and I watched as her eyes lit up. She broke out into a broad smile and loudly shouted, “CHARLEY!”

With a surge, she jumped out of her seat, almost knocking her suitor off his stool, and headed towards me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and my good fortune. She had a beautiful head of curly, reddish-brown hair, which framed a very pretty, but mature, face, accented by luscious red lips and big brown eyes. I caught just a glimpse of her slim, shapely legs protruding from her black mini skirt, as she rushed over to me.

She had a smile a mile wide on her face, I rose off my seat and she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me affectionately on the lips. As she pulled back from the kiss, she said, “You are Charley, aren’t you?” Then she whispered, “Even if you’re not, save me from this drunken lecher, please,” she pleaded.

“Yes I’m Charley, Irma, I presume?” I replied with a broad smile on my face.

“Oh, yes! Damn, Charley, you’re something else! You told me that you weren’t attractive, but let me tell you something my friend, you’re my knight in shining armor, WOW!”

I was flattered by her comments, but I too, was overwhelmed with the way she looked, and I told her so, “I know that this is going to sound like I’m trying to even-up the compliments, but you’re so much more beautiful, and youthful looking than I had pictured.”

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