I spotted her as she slipped into the third pew during the opening song. Her dark short hair highlighted sparkling eyes. She moved with the graceful power of an athlete and she joined the singing immediately. I could not take my eyes off of her. Being the pastor of this growing congregation, I always welcomed any newcomer. Yet I felt strangely nervous as I greeted her after worship.
She looked me straight in the face and said, "Good Morning, Pastor Tim. I truly enjoyed your sermon. I especially liked your comments about triathlon training."
I stammered a short, "Thank you, glad you could visit us this morning."
She responded, "Oh, I plan to be back. I might be visiting you often." A wry smile flashed across her face and she was gone.
But her face lingered into the afternoon. Monday I checked the visitor cards but none seemed to fit her.
I hesitated to mention her to my wife or church secretary. My church had lots of visitors who make one visit and never returned. I simply let the memory of her drift away.
However, the next Sunday I saw her seated in the same pew. This time her dress was shorter and a bit more low-cut. She was obviously an athlete because her calves and arms were toned. As a novice triathlete I noticed such features. She looked about thirty, twenty years younger than me. Still I felt this compulsion to check her out during the service. And whenever I would glance in her direction, her gaze seemed to be fixed on me. I quickly looked away, but she just smiled each time I glanced back.
After the service, she made sure to greet me. "I told you I would be back. It's certainly good to see you again, pastor." She took a step closer and entered my personal space. "My name is Veronica and I have a few questions about you and your church. Could we talk?" There were others behind her in the greeting line so I said "Sure, just let me finish greeting these people."
She stepped away as I greeted the others. As I finished greeting, she walked confidently back up to me. "I hear you are training for a triathlon. I am too. Are you biking or running this afternoon?" She said it with such authority as if she commanded an answer from me. The word "bike" was out of my mouth before I realized it.
"Great! We can bike while I ask you my questions. Let's meet at two at the high school parking lot. Are you up for forty miles?"
I had been planning only a twenty to thirty mile ride alone, yet her voice and enthusiasm pulled a "sure thing" from my lips. Again she leaned close to me, giving me a glimpse of her cleavage. She certainly was more buxom than most female tri-athlete. She said in a low voice, "I trust you will be ready for a real work-out." Then she turned and walked out of the church. I noticed several men watching her.
As I took my ministerial robe off, I didn't know what to do. I felt some deep physical attraction to her, and I felt guilty about those feelings. I looked at myself in the mirror. Though I had a few streaks of grey in my hair and slight roll around my stomach, I was pretty fit for my age. Over the years I had run a dozen or more marathons, but decided last summer to try a short "sprint" triathlon. It had been fun, so now I was training for a longer one in July, an Olympic distance.
I kept thinking about Veronica and the approaching bike ride as I ate lunch with my wife. We married in the passion of our youth, but now our relationship had grown stale and perfunctory. Our sex life had become non-existence, especially since her hysterectomy. I had recommended that we go to counseling, but she thought that was extreme. We drifted along as she grew more passionate about gardening and as I pursued triathlons.
I was about to broach the subject of the bike ride when my wife said, "Judy asked if I could help her put in her garden this afternoon. It's the only time we both have free and now that it's May we need to get it done. Weren't you going for a bike ride later?" I nodded my head.
"So it's okay if I go to Judy's?"
"Sure, go right ahead."
Five minutes later, my wife was in her car driving to Judy's.
It was fifteen minute to two and I wrestled with myself on what to do. It didn't seem proper to meet Veronica alone, yet she did want to ask some questions about my church. And we would be outside on bicycles. It seemed pretty harmless. Yet my mind kept straying to more harmful topics, like the cleavage I had glimpsed this morning.
At 2 pm I found myself bicycling into the high school parking lot, half of me wishing Veronica would not show, the other half anxiously looking around for her. I quickly spotted her by the flag pole. She had on very tight bike shorts and her cycling jersey was half zipped. She flashed her enticing smile at me, "I wondered if you would show."
"Why? I said I would."
"Yes, you did. But I wondered if your wife was going to object."
"Well, she went off to a friend's house."
"So you didn't tell her?"
"My wife knows I am going on a bike ride this afternoon."
Veronica pressed a bit further, "But does she know that you are biking with me?"
"Not really," I said softly.
"Well, that okay," Veronica said. "We wouldn't get into TOO much trouble."
She mounted her bike and we started off. She was obviously a fit athlete and though we started at a gentle pace, it steadily increased. We biked side by side. Veronica did have a few questions about the church, but mostly questions about me.
How long had I been at the church? - Two years. How long had I been married? -- Twenty-five years. How many children? -- Two in college. She kept probing. How many triathlons had I completed? -- Two. Did I think females were as strong as men in triathlons? -- Many are. Was my wife a triathlete? -- No.
I asked her about her situation. She said that she had been divorced for several years and only recently moved to the city. She had found our church on the internet.
We were now moving at a faster clip, and I was struggling to stay up. But my male ego was also in play, so I pushed to stay even. I asked her how many triathlons she had completed.
"Twenty or so," she responded. I gulped.
"Including four full Ironman's." I gulped again.
Finally I had to admit to myself that I was whipped physically and so I dropped back to draft off her. She shouted back to me, "That's okay. You were fully engaged at church." She took the lead and slowed the pace. I could see her gorgeous ass as her hips rose up and swayed at every opportunity. Occasionally she would turn and look at me, but mostly I was staring at her.
I felt twinges of guilt as I looked, but I reminded myself that I was only looking. I was not touching or doing anything inappropriate. I was making a "pastoral visit." Still my mind kept slipping towards the gutter. I had never cheated on my wife; in fact she was the only sexual partner I ever had.
As we neared the high school, Veronica slowed and dropped back to ride beside me. "That was a great ride, but I still have a few questions. My water bottle is empty and I need to replenish. My townhouse is just around the corner."
