Kiss of the Jogger Woman

She must have been new to the neighborhood. Dreamy Cleopatra eyes, long celestial nose, high cheek bones, porcelain skin, long, straight dark brown hair; her broad smiling lips just begging to be kissed.

I started to look for her every morning and she always appeared, like clockwork, at 7:30, running down the path behind our house.

So every day at 7:30 I would just happen to be out working in the lawn while she ran by. One day I was totally staring at her and she looked up, straight into my eyes. She smiled and waved and I waved back.

I closed my eyes and imagined our mouths gripped together. She had a hand on both sides of my face and was straddling me, like Rachel McAdams in The Notebook. It was pouring down rain.

Then I realized it really was pouring down rain and I was standing motionless in the middle of the yard, getting soaked. My wife Stella was yelling at me from the house. Why was I out there standing in the rain, she wanted to know. I couldn’t tell her I was out there french kissing Rachel McAdams, so I ran inside.

As soon as I got in the door, I gave Stella a kiss. She had hard thin lips. When I pressed my lips to hers, she kept her teeth clenched together, wrinkling her nose and holding her breath. It was like kissing a parakeet. I still loved her, but she just didn’t like to kiss.

I got rid of my wet clothes and took a cold shower. That night I dreamed of running through the rain, searching along the trail for the unknown jogger. Finally, I saw her. I tried to catch up to her, but I couldn’t move my legs. There I stood helplessly while she turned around, waved, gave me a sly smile and ran into the woods.

The next day, promptly at 7:30, I hurried out to the lawn, but there was no one there. I waited an hour, pretending to pull weeds, but the only person who came by was a woman pulling her daughter in a wagon.

As I trudged back toward the house, I looked through our living room window and there was Stella and my dream girl on the couch, locked in a passionate kiss.

I opened the back door, tiptoed across the kitchen floor, got on my hands and knees and slowly peered around the corner into the living room. There on the couch was Stella, her tongue fully extended and licking around the outside of an ice cream cone. She saw me peering around the corner and asked me if I was alright and what was I doing on my hands and knees. Staggering to my feet, I told her I had dropped a quarter and it rolled under the chair. She asked me why I had a banana in my pocket. I looked down quickly and went upstairs for another cold shower.

The next morning, out of force of habit, I was in the back yard at 7:30 sharp, pretending to pull weeds. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a red blur of something running towards me. By the time I turned to focus and determine exactly what it was, I felt contact and started to fall backwards. I felt hot breath in my face, a hot, convulsive, groping body on top of me, then wetness on my cheeks and mouth. My hands stroked through the most luxuriant long red hair imaginable. It was a beautiful Irish Setter puppy and he or she seemed delighted to make my acquaintance.

Then I heard a sweet voice calling. The dog immediately pushed away from me and ran towards the voice. I was still flat on my back in the grass. I saw two finely toned runner’s legs approach, then a soft hand touched my cheek.

“Are you all right?”

The runner crouched beside me and I saw those luscious lips pursed together and the Cleopatra eyes softened with concern. It was her!

She took my hands and helped me to my feet. I stood there face to face with my dream girl.

She asked me again if I was alright and apologized for her dog’s behavior. Then she asked if there was anything she could do for me.

Anything she could do for me? Anything? No, I said I was fine. Then she gave me a hug. I felt her hair brush my cheek.

“By the way, my name is Jessica. My husband and I live two houses down. Your wife invited me over for ice cream yesterday but I guess you weren’t home. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

I said no, I was OK. And then it happened. Jessica told me I was pretty cute for an older guy, leaned into me, planted a wet kiss on my lips, then jogged away. When I turned to go back in the house, there was Stella, her hands on her hips, looking me up and down. She walked over to me, took my hand and squeezed it.

“Come upstairs with me. It looks like there’s something we need to work out between us.”