The Tales of Andrea & Dean Ch. 01bythewhitestripe©
A Fortunate Accident
As Dean squinted through his sunglasses up at the bright blue summer sky, he marveled at what a perfect day it was for a run. He wiped his brow with the bottom of his singlet top and jogged from the park across the street to the bottom of his block, on the final stretch to his new home.
He had moved in only a week ago, but he was already enamoured with the neighourhood--plenty of trees and greenery, well-kept houses, not too far from his office, and with a large nature reserve abutting his block. He had already explored much of it on his daily runs, and was becoming more and more pleased with his choice to move there.
He checked his watch and took a deep breath, preparing for the last few hundred meters of his route. He was about to quicken his pace, finish strong, when he noticed a young woman jogging toward him. From this distance, he could see that she was thin, petite, with long hair tied back in a ponytail that swished back and forth dramatically as she ran. As they approached each other, he saw that she was young--probably in her early to mid twenties--blonde, wearing a light blue sports bra and tiny black spandex shorts, her flat, toned midriff bare. She wore sunglasses as well, so he could not tell if she was looking at him, but he decided that she would not be able to see him looking at her, so he continued to stare at the blonde vision bouncing toward him. As they came closer, Dean smiled at her and nodded politely. The young woman smiled back. Apparently she was watching him too.
Dean focused all his attention on her as they passed. He took in every detail; her slightly parted lips, the subtle beads of sweat trickling down her chest into her cleavage, the swells of her modest but firm breasts held snugly in place by her sports bra, the small buds of her nipples poking through. It felt like time slowed as his eyes fell to her flat tummy, the curves of her waist to her hips, her lean thighs. He watched her ponytail flick behind her as she went by, smelling a sweet aroma of her perfume and musky sweat, unable to turn his gaze away as he rubber-necked to look down to get a glimpse of her ass.
Unfortunately, his ogling was interrupted when his feet became tangled, and he sprawled headlong onto the sidewalk.
While he did his best to break his fall, his knee and the outside of his right leg scraped painfully on the pavement as he tumbled. He couldn't help but cry out in surprise, pain, and embarrassment. His glasses skittered along the ground and he rolled, absorbing much of the impact, finally coming to a halt on the lawn next to the sidewalk. He sat up on his knees and looked about him, hoping no one had seen his fall. He didn't see anyone ahead of him, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh my god! Are you ok?!" came a woman's high, concerned voice from behind him, as he heard running footsteps approach.
Dean winced, but not from the pain in his leg.
"Yeah, yeah, fine thanks. All good. Just, uh, rolled my ankle a bit," he replied, not daring to look up out of pure shame.
He felt a warm hand on his bare shoulder.
"Are you sure? It looked like a pretty hard fall."
Dean finally mustered the courage to look up. he was looking into the pretty blue eyes of the girl he had just jogged past moments before. She had lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head, and had a look of genuine concern. Dean chuckled.
"Yeah, nothing hurt here except my pride," he said, standing up.
He bent to pick up his glasses, and smiled pathetically at the beautiful girl before him.
"Thanks for stopping, it's very nice of you. I'm ok, I'll just--"
"Oh!" she exclaimed, pointing down at his leg.
He looked down to see blood dripping from the nasty scrape from his lower thigh to his upper calf on the outside of his leg.
"No, it's alright, it looks worse than it is. Really, it's ok," he reassured her as she looked at him with greater concern.
"Oh my god, I feel terrible," she said.
"I don't know, I think maybe it may have been my fault. You fell just after we passed each other, maybe I tripped you."
"Don't be silly, I was just clumsy," Dean said, then he chuckled. "Well, maybe it is a tiny bit your fault. You're a very pretty woman. You may have distracted me just a bit."
She giggled, and if her cheeks were not already flushed from her jog, he might have thought she blushed.
"I'm so sorry. Look, my house is just at the end of the block. Why don't you come in and we'll get you cleaned up?"
Dean was about to tell her he was nearly home himself, but decided he would rather have this sexy girl take care of him than do it himself.
"I'd like that... I mean, if it's not too much trouble. I don't want to interrupt your exercise."
"No, no, it's fine. I've already done a few laps of the block, I was nearly done anyway. This way," she said, gesturing down the street. "My name's Andrea."
"I'm Dean. Nice to meet you, I just wish it was under less embarrassing circumstances," he replied smiling awkwardly.
"Oh don't worry about it. We've all been there," she laughed.
There was a pause in the conversation as they walked. Eventually, Andrea spoke.
"Do you live around here?"
"Um, actually yes. I was going to mention it earlier. I'm just over on Bentley. It's not far, I can just head home..."
"Oh... we just met and already you want to get rid of me?"
"No! No, I--"
She giggled and swatted his arm playfully. "Only joking, sweetie. I haven't seen you around here. Did you move here recently?"
"Yeah, just last week. It's a fantastic location. I'm loving it so far." His eyes ran up and down her body quickly before darting away again.
"It's a great area. I've lived here less than a year, so I'm relatively new myself. This one's mine," she finished, pointing.
Dean and Andrea walked up her front walkway and she opened the door for him to enter. Her place was spacious and tastefully decorated. Neat, but welcoming. Paintings adorned many of the walls.
"Welcome to my humble abode," she announced, shutting the door behind them.
The cool air conditioning felt wonderful on Dean's hot, sweaty skin.
"Follow me up the stairs, the bathroom's just down the hall on the right. You can jump in the shower and I'll get you some clothes. I think I've got a t-shirt and some shorts of my ex-boyfriend's that will fit you."
Andrea began walking up the stairs ahead of Dean. His eyes immediately gravitated to her bottom. His jaw actually dropped when he beheld it. It was perfectly shaped, like an upside-down heart, the soft, round curves under her buttocks perfectly framing the firm cheeks above. He noticed two small dimples at the small of her back. The way she swayed her ass as she walked up the stairs seemed a deliberate tease to Dean, and it took all his will power not to reach out and grasp the perfect ass that was less than two feet from his face. Despite his fatigue and the stinging pain in his leg, he found himself wishing the staircase would never end.
"Here you go. There's fresh towels in the cupboard inside. Make yourself at home. I'll get you those clothes." She turned quickly and left down the hallway, turning into the far left hand doorway and out of view.
Dean entered the bathroom and looked at himself in the full-length mirror next to the bathtub. He was lean and athletic, with short brown hair, a short growth of stubble on his square jaw. His shoulders were broad for his relatively thin frame, and his body fat percentage was enviably low. He looked at his leg, seeing the blood slowly drying on his skin and soaking into his sock. He pulled off his singlet, revealing his toned torso dripping with sweat. He bent down and untied his shoes, removing them and his socks. Next he hooked his thumbs into his waistband and pulled his shorts and boxers down.
As he tossed them into a pile with his shoes and singlet, he looked back in the mirror. He was handsome; not strikingly so, but he had no shortage of attention from the opposite sex. But his most remarkable asset was his manhood. It hung proudly, thick and long, even when flaccid. Every woman he had ever been with had commented positively about his size, and he certainly made some of the guys on his ice hockey team envious when they were in the shower room.
He stepped across the bathroom and into the shower stall at the foot of the bathtub. He turned the water on and rinsed his body clean, using the soap to wash his injury. He winced as he cleaned the wound, but the pain soon subsided and he turned his face into the warm stream of water.
Suddenly, something caught his eye. He thought he saw some movement near the bathroom door. He had not closed it when he entered. Being on a mixed-sex ice hockey team had made him casual about nudity. There were two women on the team, one in her twenties and the other in her early or mid-thirties--around Dean's age. They were both very attractive, and it did not bother them when the men went to the showers in the room adjacent to the change room. There was a separate curtain for the women's use, but Dean had no doubt they snuck peeks at the men as they showered. After all, Dean would have done the same if it was the other way around.
In any case, he had no qualms about showing off. He was proud of his body, and had nothing to hide. But now he was intrigued. Was Andrea spying on him? He decided to turn around and face away from the door, but the reflection of the doorway showed in the nearby medicine cabinet's mirror. He scrubbed his body and kept an eye on the door. There it was again! The hallway was fairly dark, but he thought he could perceive some motion near the door frame. He kept watch and thought he saw the outline of a head peeking around the corner.
Dean smiled to himself and felt a tingle in his loins. He liked the idea of a sexy girl watching him as he showered. Slowly, he turned back around and ran his hands through his hair, giving Andrea a full-frontal view of his body. He wished he could have heard her reaction, but the sound of the water was far too loud. His hands roamed over his chest and hard abs, down to his closely-cropped pubic hair. He stroked his hands along his length, pulling it, then letting it fall and swing between his legs. He could feel it begin to grow.
'Wait, what am I doing?' he thought. 'I can't just jerk off in this girl's shower. I've just met her!' He turned and shut off the water, again keeping an eye on the door in the mirror. He saw Andrea duck away quickly. He got out and dried himself off, feeling refreshed. He wrapped the small towel around his waist. It was so small it left a slit at his thigh. He heard footsteps in the hallway.
"Hey Dean, are you decent? I've got some clothes for you, and I'll put a band-aid on that scrape," called Andrea's musical voice, with a hint of nervousness.
"Yep, all good. Come on in."
Andrea entered tentatively, and immediately looked at Dean's groin area. His semi-engorged cock made a noticeable bulge in the small towel. She was still wearing her running outfit.
"Oh, um, good... I'll just put these here," she said, setting the t-shirt and shorts down on a table next to the door, but not taking her eyes off his bulge.
Eventually she pulled her eyes away, then went to the medicine cabinet to fetch some first aid supplies.
"Just sit here," she gestured to the edge of the tub.
Dean sat and gripped the edge of the tub for balance. The towel draped down exposing nearly his entire right leg. Andrea got out some antiseptic cream and knelt on the bath mat next to him. Dean spread his legs slightly so the towel just barely rested on his lap, and he felt his cock sway underneath him. From Andrea's angle, she must have been able to see it clearly, dangling down between his legs. He noticed her eyes widen and her mouth open in amazement. After a few moments, Dean cleared his throat.
"Oh, sorry! Um, here just let me..."
She fumbled with the cream, finally managing to spread some on the scrape. Her fingers were gentle, and the pain was tolerable. Andrea's eyes looked up into Dean's for reassurance. He nodded subtly, and she looked back down. Soon she was stroking his upper thigh, no longer anywhere near the scrape. Dean felt his penis begin to rise. Andrea stared as if in a trance. He wanted her to touch it, to pull his towel back and stroke him to rock hardness. He was about to move his hand to put it on top of hers, when she suddenly stopped, blinking rapidly.
"There, that should be ok. Here." She put a couple large band-aids on the scrape, pressing on them carefully, then stood up quickly, her breasts wiggling under her top.
"There you go. All patched up!"
"Thank you so much Andrea. Really, you didn't have to go to all this trouble."
"It's fine, I really don't mind. You can put these clothes on in my room while I have a quick shower. It's just down the hall on the left. You can use my laptop if you get bored."
"Thanks," Dean said, standing and attempting but failing to hide the bulge his semi-erect cock was making in the towel.
Andrea had another glance down at his groin, then looked up at him, blushing. Dean smiled and walked past her, first picking up his clothes, then the clothes Andrea had left on the table. He nodded to her as he exited the bathroom. As he went down the hall, he did not hear the door close. He hoped she would repay the favour.
He entered her room and looked out the large window facing her back yard. Across the small yard, he saw the back of his house!
"Hey, Andrea, that's my house right behind yours!" he called down the hallway.
"No way! That's great! We'll have to put a little door on the back fence so we can visit each other more easily," she responded.
He hung his towel on a chair at her desk where a laptop sat and put the clothes on. Her ex must have been a bigger guy, because both the t-shirt and shorts were rather baggy. The shorts were cotton track pant material, and felt soft on his skin, as he was not wearing underwear. He pulled the drawstring so they would not fall down.
The sound of splashing water came from down the hallway. He thought he should wait a minute before trying to spy on Andrea. Dean's gaze drifted back to her laptop, where a colourful screensaver pattern raced across the screen. He touched the keys and opened a browser window. Out of curiosity, he checked her browsing history. It included news sites, fashion and art blogs, and shopping sites, but one site caught his eye. It was a site he was familiar with: an adult erotic fiction website with a bulletin board. As a hobby Dean liked to write erotic fiction--when he could find the time--and this was the site he posted on! He had spoken with a couple members before through the boards and private messages, but he had never met one in person. Dean rubbed his chin, then clicked on the link. It opened, and he noticed that Andrea seemed to be logged in under the username p_c352006. She was a member too! He made a mental note of the username, then closed the browser. He would have to investigate later at his home. At this moment, he was curious about what he might see through Andrea's bathroom door.
As quietly as he could manage, Dean crept down the carpeted hallway. As he approached the bathroom door, he saw that it was open about a foot. He moved closer, and noticed some material on the floor just inside the door. It was Andrea's spandex short shorts, and inside was a tiny pink thong. The blood began to rush back into Dean's member as his heart beat hard in his chest. He listened for a moment, hearing Andrea splashing, then carefully and slowly peeked past the door frame.
What he saw took his breath away. Andrea was facing him, and had her leg up on the ledge where the glass of the shower stall met the tub. Her head was bent looking down, and her left hand was splayed on her abdomen. In her right hand she held a razor, and was carefully and methodically shaving her pussy. Dean blinked and licked his lips, feeling a sudden bolt of pleasure in his groin.
Andrea's long, wet hair was draped over her shoulder, and the water cascaded over her back and shoulders, dripping down over her firm breasts. Her small nipples were hard and protruding, and Dean's mouth watered with the idea of what they would feel like on his tongue. She finished her careful grooming and rinsed her mound clean, rubbing it and cupping it with her hand. She set her razor down and ran both hands up her body, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples, her head thrown back. Her leg was still up on the ledge, and Dean had a perfect, clear view of her cute, freshly shorn pussy, the lips parted slightly to reveal a deep pink slit.
The bulge in his shorts was made more noticeable because of the looseness of the fabric. He was pitching a veritable tent. Before he was aware of what he was doing, his hand slipped into the waistband and gripped his thick shaft, squeezing it firmly. Andrea had run her hand back down to her womanhood, and was now carefully stroking her fingertips along her clit. Her other hand kneaded her breast and she bit her lip, her eyes closed. Dean began to slowly stroke his cock through his shorts, but found the restraining waistband uncomfortable. He untied the drawstring and pulled the waistband down to his thighs. He extracted his enormous member and stroked its length, sighing at the waves of pleasure it sent through him.
Over the sound of the water, Dean thought he could hear small, short, high-pitched moans coming from Andrea. She was clearly enjoying herself, and at this point Dean almost didn't care if she saw him spying on her while jerking off. Still, he felt nervous, and was careful not to stand too much in view. Andrea slipped a finger into her pussy and began stroking it in and out, first slowly, then more quickly. Her cheeks and chest were flushed, and her mouth was open. Dean stroked himself faster, imagining what it would feel like to have his cock inside her young, tight, smooth pussy.
Suddenly, Andrea put her leg down and put her finger in her mouth, sucking her pussy juice from it. She was looking off to the side at... what? Dean wondered. He stroked his dick harder and faster, cupping his balls as he watched her pull her finger out of her mouth and run it over her pouting lips. His legs felt weak and his heart raced as he thought about what he was doing. 'I'm masturbating as I watch this hot girl I just met pleasure herself in the shower.' He couldn't believe what he was doing, but he was unable to stop.
She turned around to face away from him, and her ass came into view. He felt his balls tingle in pleasure as he beheld the perfect, firm, round cheeks. He imagined gripping her buttocks roughly in his hands and pulling her onto his waiting cock, impaling her pussy hard. Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Andrea bent over at the waist and pressed her ass cheeks against the clear class of the shower stall door. Dean thought he might ejaculate right then and there, but controlled himself, taking deep breaths through his nose and biting his tongue. He saw her fingers appear at her bald mound between her thighs, her fingers slipping along her wet slit as the water cascaded over her perfect ass. Again, she dipped her fingers inside her pussy as she put her other hand on the far wall to stabilise herself.
He clearly heard her moan in pleasure, a moan he probably even would have heard if he was still in her bedroom. She rubbed her sweet bottom over the glass as she got herself off. Dean's cock was now pulsing in his hand, and he knew if he continued to stroke himself much longer while watching Andrea in the shower, he would lose control.
Quickly and without thinking, Dean crouched and swept his hand just inside the door, picking Andrea's shorts and panties up off the floor of the bathroom. He stepped back into the hall and looked down at his hand. He could feel the wetness of her shorts and panties, soaked with her sweat from her afternoon run. He held his dick at the base and stroked his length along the material, his hot cock feeling the cool sweat of her shorts. When he looked back up, Andrea was facing him, her back against the tiled far wall of the shower, her legs spread and bent slightly at the knees. One hand squeezed her tit firmly, her nails digging into the soft flesh of her breast, her nipple protruding from between her fingers. The other hand was rapidly plunging two fingers in and out of her pussy. He could hear the wet smacking sounds as her palm connected with her mound upon each thrust of her digits into her sex. She moaned loudly now, and her head was turned slightly, again not looking at him, but looking intently at something.