A brown suede blazer occupied the window seat already. I took my aisle seat next to the blazer, the morning sun straining to get past the plastic airliner sunshade. This was a rare but stressful trip, delivering my father-in-law to the opposite coast and flying home the next morning via first class. A man appeared at my right, and I stood up to let the blazer’s owner into his seat.

We began a four-hour conversation. He was attractive with a white goatee and glasses. We were about the same age and married with kids and pets. I told him that I was a tech writer but also had a blog about sex and relationships. And so we discussed everything–long-term relationships, affairs, attraction, low-sex marriages, health, our sexual preferences, and on and on.

He downed Bloody Marys, four in all. He showed me a photo of himself as a young man, and I suspected he missed being the handsomest in the room. We exchanged emails. We flirted.

With another flight to catch, he was nervous to get off the plane. He indicated that I should come with him. We walked quickly to the moving sidewalk, down the stairs, and found the train. Holding a metal support, we talked a little as I leaned against him for balance. Suddenly, we arrived at his stop. He turned to me, said softly, “Take care” and kissed me on the lips. I returned the kiss. Then he was gone.

The train lurched forward. I stared out the glass doors, quietly elated, genuinely confused.

I did hear from him again a few times but a reason to continue a flirtation was absent. So I quit writing. But I still ponder the unexpected kiss.