As usual, she came trotting up the hill at exactly 3pm. He could almost set his watch to her. Through the corner of his eye he watched her shapely form trot delicately behind him. Today was the day.
His name was Curtis, and he had recently started jogging. He used to swim, still did, in fact, but since the weather was changing for the better he thought he'd get out and about and work on his tan. Approaching 30 Curtis was aware that he needed to keep in shape. He was trim, didn't smoke, but he did like a drink now and then. He was enjoying it, this exercise, meeting fellow joggers on his way round the park. But when he first saw 'her' two weeks ago he knew that this jogging thing was him.
She was stunningly gorgeous – curvaceous, firm breasts, her slim body wrapped in a tight t-shirt and wearing the skimpiest jogging shorts he had ever seen. How old was she - 24? 25? He would pretend to stall just as she jogged past him, just to gaze lustfully at her curvaceous ass, the way it jutted seductively up and down as she jogged past him. At first she didn't acknowledge his presence, then, as the days went by they would nod, and then smile before saying hi.
Curtis was determined to ask her for a date, or the very least, ask her name. Who cared if she was seeing someone or not? He truly believed that she was seeing someone, for any babe that fucking sexy isn't the type to stay single. So, at 3.01 she came jogging towards him, he stretching his legs on a park bench at the top of a mild hill. She smiled when she saw him, he smiling back.
"Hi!" she beamed, slowing down. "Feeling the strain, are you?"
Curtis laughed. "Just a bit. I had a late night last night so, yeah I'm feeling it."
"Well, we all have to let our hair down once in a while, I suppose," she replied. She now came to a complete stop, resting her hands on her hips. Curtis glimpsed her tight shorts from the corner of his eye, noticing her succulent pussy molded between the tautness of the flimsy material. My God, he thought.
"Oh, I'm Curtis," he said, standing to his feet and holding out his hand. She took it, smiling. "Veronica. Please to meet you, Curtis."
Veronica. Her name was Veronica. "Yeah, you too. I've noticed you jogging around here – it's always nice to see a friendly face."
"Been at this long?"
"A few weeks now. Thought I'd make hay while the sun shines," he said.
"Yeah, it's really nice this time of year. So tell me, what did you do last night that has you struggling today?"
For the first time he noticed that there was a wedding ring on Veronica's finger. "Oh, I was at a bar with a few friends. Few too many beers, the usual. It was fun."
"Was it a strip bar?" she cheekily asked, grinning.
"No, it was not a strip bar!" he said, feigning shock. "I am appalled you'd even ask such a thing!"
"Yeah, right, mister," she said. "I've seen the way you stare at me when I jog past you – funny how you always seem to stop at the same place every day!"
Curtis was genuinely embarrassed. "Why, Veronica," he began, "I merely feel the urge to ... stretch my muscle at this same spot –"
"I bet you do," she said, saucily.
Curtis laughed, sitting down. "It's not like that, well ... now that you mention it ..."
"I thought so," she said, now facing him. She took a few steps into him, almost on top of him. Curtis tried desperately not to stare at her pussy that was now ogling him. Her perfume hit him hard, intoxicating. "Besides, why do you think I take the same route everyday too? I was kinda hoping you'd say hello."
"Did you?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said, adding, "you're cute."
"Well, you already know what I think of you, the way I stretch my muscle an' all," he teased her, "but are you -?" He motioned to her wedding ring.
"What of it?" she asked. "He's never home, anyway. I married a tycoon, which seemed like a good idea at the time. He's either away on business, or he's 'at a meeting' with his secretary." she added, waving her fingers.
"I find that hard to believe," Curtis said.
"Oh? Why?"
