tagFirst TimeSlippery Situation

Slippery Situation


She supposed she looked hot. She pulled the sleeves down her arms a bit to get the off- the- shoulder look the dress was intended for. It was made of some sort of spandex blend, a bodycon fabric that clung to her every curve. She new the fabric would stain permanently with the first drop of water she spilled on it. She checked herself one more time in the smudged locker room mirror, adjusted her curls, and left.

The gym hall was deserted by now, school had ended a good hour ago, but she had stayed behind to prepare for her date. She preferred getting ready in the deserted locker room of her high school then dressing at home, where her parents would undoubtably bombard her with questions about the boy, where they were going, what they would do. It wasn't that they were worried, they trusted her. And hell, she was 18 now, a proper adult. But it was rare that she went on dates and her parents were always more excited on these occasions than she was. And frankly, there was no need to be worried. The boy was nerdy, he sat next to her in AP physics, and the most action she would get from him would be a nervous, too wet, kiss on the cheek.

She sighed. She knew she was overdressed for the casual restaurant where she was meeting him, but she knew if she didn't wear the clingy red dress tonight, she would probably never find another excuse to. She had almost made it out the door into the parking lot when a loud, "Peterson!" interrupted her thoughts. She knew it had to be Coach R., her short haired, shorter tempered gym teacher, because no one else referred to her by her last name. She turned, and sure enough, Coach was leaning out of her office doorway waving an envelope.

"Peterson, can you do me a favor? I'm running late and I've got to run. Will you put this envelope in Ben Highmoor's locker in the boy's locker room? There shouldn't be anyone in there at this hour"

Before she could reply, Coach said an eager, "Thank you" and power walked out the door into the parking lot.

She said a sardonic "Sure Coach, I don't have anywhere to be." and walked back down the hall to the boy's locker room. She had never been in the boy's locker room, and was not in the mood to surprise any half naked football players, so she knocked a couple of times on the heavy door. She could hear the sound of her knocking ring through the empty room.

She opened the door with a little effort and entered the locker room.

"Damn," she said under her breath as she looked around. The boy's locker room was vastly different from the girls. It was at least three times as large and spotlessly clean. There were rows and rows high lockers, each marked with a name plaque that stated which sports its owner played. Little cheer-leader decorated posters hung on the locker doors, with cliched encouragements written in pink marker.

She began down the first row.

"It probably won't be that hard to find Ben's locker," she thought, "I'll just look for the one with the most sports and the most posters."

Everyone knew Ben, even her. Although she imagined he didn't know her at all. They had had a few classes together over the years. And she had learned to consider Ben Highmoor the most accomplished, best looking and all around most loved boy in her school. He would have been the typical popular high school jock if not for his genuine nice personality which set him apart from the rest of the sports guys who she considered well, douche bags. Every sane girl at the school was in love with him, and she supposed she was to, although she had barely ever talked to him. He was like a movie star to her, the kind you have a crush on, but understand the impossibility of ever actually becoming anything with.

She had made it through the third row of lockers and still hadn't found his. She was approaching the shower area which consisted of a long tiled walkway with drainage pipes that had little curtained shower stalls on each side. She could see more lockers on the other side and decided to venture through the aisle of showers to see if she could find Ben's. She was beginning to feel uneasy, the locker rows were claustrophobic, and the room spelled of testosterone and too much body spray.

She thought about Ben again, about how his hair always seemed to be in perfect disarray. How his t-shirts would have been too tight on most guys, but how on him, they just accentuated the curves of his muscles. She wondered with a smile how many girls, probably students and teachers alike, had spent part of their school day daydreaming about Ben Highmoor.

She was awakened from her trance the second she stepped onto the white tiled floor of the aisle of showers when she was hit solidly with a high pressured spray of shower water. She gasped with surprise and tried to maintain her balance, but slipped onto her back on the now wet shower tiles, water still spraying her. She heard a loud exclamation of "Shit!" and heard the sound of knobs being twisted. The water lost pressure and slowly died away as she was able to open her eyes. She looked up just in time to see a tall, muscled figure whip a towel around his waist and kneel down to her.

"Shit," The figure repeated, "Are you all right?" She recognized the voice now. Of course. Of course it would be Ben. Of course this humiliation wouldn't happen in front of a less attractive guy.

"I... yeah." She said quietly, rubbing the back of her head where she could feel a bump beginning to develop. Her eyes focused fully, and she could see his beautiful face, bending down close to hers, dark green eyes full of confusion and worry.

"Here, let me help you up," he said.

"Umm, ok." She said, cheeks brightening as the full picture of her embarrassment became clearer. He slipped a hand under her back and one across her shoulders and puller her to her feet. Even in her daze, she still registered the feel of his big hand lingering on her waist as she steadied herself.

"I'm so sorry," Ben said, "I just turned on the shower and you came out of nowhere right into the water! I had no idea you were in here.... wait, why are you in here?"

"I... Sorry, can I sit down for a minute?" she said, swaying on her feet.

"Oh god! Here!" He caught her around the waist again and helped her over to sit on one of those fold out benches they had in all the shower stalls for disabled kids.

Safely on the bench, she leaned her head back against the wall of the shower and momentarily closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Ben was leaning close to her, concern back in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked widening his eyes.

"Yeah, I think so," she said quietly, "I just hit my head on the floor. I'm.. sorry, I didn't know you were in here either, I was supposed to put this in your locker." She held up the now drenched envelope to him. He took it from her and and placed it on the bench beside her without looking at it.

"Your sorry? I'm sorry! I almost killed you.... with a shower! Does it hurt still, your head?"

The pain was subsiding , "It's getting better actually," she said.

"Good," he said with relief, "Can I get you an ice pack, or a towel or something? It's Lindsey, right?"

"Yeah, Lindsey," she said, surprised that he had remembered her name. She looked down at herself for the first time, and turned instantly red. Her thin dress was soaked through, her nipples extremely visible under the material, which had been tight before, but was now stuck fast to her body. "And yes, a towel would be good."

"Sure," he said, "towel," and hurried around the corner.

He returned quickly with her towel. He had donned a pair of athletic shorts, but remained bare chested. She had to focus on wrapping the towel around herself to avoid staring at his muscled chest.

"Let me help you," he said, encircling her in his muscled arms and wrapping the towel tightly around her.

"Uh.. thanks." she said, wishing she could just leave the locker room, but she still didn't trust her wobbly legs to keep her steady. Ben was now standing in front of her, looking unsure about what he should do next. She began to shiver. The locker rooms were not heated, and she had been blasted with the frigid water that comes out when you first turn a shower on.

"Crap, you're cold," he said, "I have some dry clothes in my locker, if you wanna..."

"No I'm fine really," she said, but she could hear the vibrato in her voice as her teeth chattered. "I don't really think I can walk steady yet.."

"Well that I can help you with," Ben said, sounding relieved to have found something to do. Without another word, he placed one arm back across her shoulders and one beneath her knees and lifted her up as if she weighed as much as a baby.

She didn't have time to protest. And she didn't know if she would be able to. The towel had swung open as Ben had scooped her up, and her soaked red dress was revealed again. She imagined the color of her cheeks must now perfectly match that damned little dress. Ben didn't carry her very far. He stopped in the middle of a row of lockers and laid her down on the long narrow bench that separated this row from the next. She tried to sit up, but he pushed her gently back down.

"Oh no you don't," he said, "I've seen enough concussions in football to know that you should stay horizontal."

"You think I have a concussion?" she asked nervously.

"Probably not," he said, "but you can't be too careful."

She stared up at him. God, he was being nice. Unconsciously, or maybe consciously, or perhaps a combination of both, she let her eyes travel down his chiseled chest to his rock solid abs, and settle on the two pronounced muscles that formed a V shape leading into his shorts. Her eyes drifted a little farther south and shot back up again when they saw the bulge that was showing itself in his shorts. She met his eyes. He had been watching her.

"About that," he said, his tone half embarrassed and half amused. "Please don't take it personally... well yes, you should take it personally. I... well, let's just say that you look really good in that dress, and that dress looks really good wet."

She turned her head away, unsurprised to feel a slight pain.

"I'm sorry, Lindsey," Ben said, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just want to help you." He sounded perfectly sincere, "I can't help but react to you. I'm only human, and you're well, you're a Goddess.

She slowly turned her head back to him. No one had ever called her a goddess. She supposed he was just being nice, but the growing tent in his shorts contradicted that thought.

"Can I sit up now?" She asked, deciding to ignore his previous comments.

"Slowly," he said. Yet again, his arm snaked around her shoulders, supporting her as she sat up. When she as sitting upright, his arm did not leave her.

"Are you still cold?" he asked.

"A little," she gulped. He was sitting very close to her, their sides were pressed up together. She was almost painfully conscious of every point in which their bodies touched.

"Would it make you uncomfortable if I hugged you?" Ben asked matter-of-factly.

"What?" Lindsey asked.

"If i hugged you, I need to get you warm."

"Oh," she said, understanding dawning, "No, I mean, I guess that's okay."

"Good," he said, swinging one leg to the other side of the bench so that his front faced her side. He wrapped his arms around her and slid her closer to him. She could feel every line of his body pressed against hers. The curve of his stomach, the definition of his arms, and on her hip, the faint presence of what could only be his erection pressed against her.

She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold. He smelled like sweat and soap, which made a surprisingly delicious smelling combination. She sat rigidly straight, unsure of what to do.

"God, you really are freezing," he said, "Maybe I should call somebody.."

"No!" she said, too quickly, "I mean, this is good. I mean, you're making me warmer, I mean.."

He chuckled. His mouth was so close to her ear, she could feel his warm breath. The sound was low and sweet. "Okay, okay, I won't call anyone."

They sat like that for what seemed like eternity to Lindsey, who as time went on, leaned farther and farther into Ben, until she rested completely against his chest. It was a wonderful feeling.

Too soon, he leaned away from her, keeping his arms loosely around her.

"You're not getting any warmer," he said, "and frankly, you're making me cold. As much as I hate to say this, you should probably change out of that dress."

"I don't have anything to change into, my clothes are in the girls... in the girls.. in the..." her voice drifted as she noted how close his face was, how near his perfect eyes were, his perfect lips. She couldn't find a reason for her reaction to him in this moment, other than some animalistic reaction that he woke in her. Whatever the reason, she pounced. She pivoted quickly around the bench so she was facing him, and with all the ferocity she could muster, kissed him square on the mouth. At first he sat there in stony surprise, but then, as she kissed him harder and harder, she felt an equally ardent reaction. He pressed her mouth to hers. Opening and closing and gasping for air. The rocked back and forth. Lindsey felt Ben's arms reach back around her and push her forward into him. She couldn't get close enough to him. He couldn't get close enough to her. They pushed into each other, harder and harder, their mouths connecting them. She didn't want it to ever end.

"Lind...sey..." he groaned breathlessly between kisses, "Lindsey... Lindsey!" He said it louder this time, with enough authority to get her to stop her relentless push forward. "You're shaking."

She hadn't noticed it, but it was true. She was shivering so hard, that even feeling of her blood boiling beneath her skin hadn't warmed her. She was beginning to lose feeling in her fingers and toes. "I'm...really..cold." she gasped.

"Shit," he said, "come here." He gathered her again in his arms and hoisted her up. This time, she placed her arms around his neck as he carried her back over the the shower area. He sat her down on the same bench where she had sat earlier, and she was vaguely aware of the sound of the shower knobs turning. She felt the spray of cold water, and pressed against the shower wall, trying to avoid it.

"It's ok," Ben said, "I'm turning on the hot water, give it a minute to warm up. Let's get you out of that dress."

"I don't think that's necessary," she slurred.

"It's absolutely necessary," he said, " you need to warm up. I won't look if that's what you're worried about."

Lindsey thought for a moment, "No, you can look... if you want." Her words were getting more and more unclear.

"If I want," Ben repeated with a chuckle. "do I ever. Besides, I don't think you could even stand up without my help." With that, he lifted her to a standing position and held her upright, out of the streaming water, with her back to him. He gently placed the very tips of his fingers under the hem of her short dress and began pulling it upwards, very slowly. She lifted her arms to help him get the soaked dress up over her head.

"God, you're beautiful." Ben said, with a strain in his voice. "Come here, the water's hot now."

Lindsey was down to her bra and underwear as Ben guided her into the steaming water. The instant that hot water hit her, she became aware again, noting the feeling of Ben behind her, supporting her.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," she said, "I can feel my body again.... and yours." She let the hot water run all around her, let it take the cold away. She felt a different kind of warmth as Ben placed a gentle but lasting kiss on her neck, making her shiver. He looked up at her reaction.

"I'm sorry," he said, "You're not well.."

"No," she croaked, interrupting him, "Don't stop."

She turned to him, and feeling the hot water encase them together, kissed him again with all the passion she had before. He met her with an equal force. Leaving her mouth to kiss down the side of her face, across her jaw, down her neck onto her collar bone, his arms wrapped around her back. She leaned backwards into his arms as one strong hand reached up, brushed her wet hair from her shoulder and slid under the thin black strap of her bra. He pushed the strap down her arm and she could feel his other hand, against her back, undoing the clasp. He focused his mouth again to hers as she kissed him, deeper and deeper. She felt the her thin black bra fall away as he broke the clasp. He sighed with a regretful sound and lifted his face away from hers.

"I'm taking advantage of you, aren't I?" He asked.

"No," she said, "I'm taking advantage of you. And I'm not going to stop."

He chuckled again, and it sounded like music. "I think I love you," he said.

"Even without the dress?" She asked turning doe eyes on him.

"Oh, especially without the dress."

"Prove it," she challenged as she peeled the bra off her arm.

He smiled as he looked down at her naked chest, "Gladly."

He bent his neck and began to kiss along her collar bone again, tracing his mouth around both of her breasts, drawing a gasp from her. With the lightest of touches he put his mouth to her nipple and gave a soft kiss. She arched he back and groaned. Her reaction was invitation enough for him to encircle her breast with his mouth, sucking and gently biting her. She had never felt anything like this. Her whole body felt on fire, nowhere was she cold now. Her groaning grew louder, and echoed through the empty locker room.

Ben only paused his work for a moment, when he felt Lindsey's finger tips sliding into the front of his shorts. Without removing his mouth from her delicious breast, he placed his hands over hers and pushed down, freeing himself from the confines of his wet shorts.

"Oh, Bennn," she said, tangling her hands into his hair. His hands went around her waist, stroking her sides up and down, stopping as they reached her panties. He looked up at her now, looking for her permission.

"I don't think I'll be needing those," she said shyly. "Feel free to remove them."

He did. When she was fully naked, he stepped away from her, drinking her in.

"You're absolutely radiant. Glorious." He told her.

For some reason, this embarrassed her, and she blushed and looked at the floor.

"Hey," he said, "Hey, don't think that I'm lying to you because I want to make love to you. And god, do I. You are, with all honesty, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

"Well, what if I don't want you to make love to me?" Lindsey asked, almost inaudibly.

"Then, then, I'll leave right now," he said, "I'll leave you alone, and I won't say a word about this to anybody." His voice wavered, but she could tell he was being honest.

She took a step closer to him and breathed in his ear. "What if the reason I don't want you to make love to me is because.... I want you to fuck me?"

HIs eyes widened, and he grinned the most devilish of smiles. "I think I can do that," he said.

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