The Accident: Pt. 01

As her laughter subsided, Peter humorlessly said, "You done?"

She just smiled, as she drew very close to him to finish gently taking the shirt off from each arm. Through her t-shirt, he could feel the soft mounds of flesh of her breasts pushed into his chest, when his arms were lifted. As she pulled away, he felt the distinct difference in skin surface, as just her nipples were left brushing against him.

This caused the first inkling of swelling in his member. This is exactly what he didn't want to have happen.

Without warning or ceremony, she then quickly just tugged off his shorts and his member sprang out in full view.

He hoped she didn't notice it was slightly larger than when he just peed, as he quickly turned from her and stepped over the tub wall back to the spray. Katie left the room and came back a minute later with an armless plastic lawn chair that she put in the shower.

"Sit," she said, in a stern motherly voice.

"Woof, woof," Peter barked, with a smile trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled at him as she took the shower wand off the wall and got into a kneeling position.

"We'll start with your hair." She seemed very mechanical about it. This was good in his mind. Perhaps this will all be very clinical, like getting an exam at the doctor.

"Lean your head back," she said, much more gently than before.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The warmth of the jets of water felt nice. He suddenly realized how grimy he actually was, and that this was probably the best thing for both of them. She shut off the water and squirted some shampoo in her hands. The shampoo was comparatively cold on his head to the water, but she quickly started to work it into his hair.

Peter wasn't sure if it was a female thing, or just a Katie thing, but she was taking much longer to lather his hair than he ever did. He was very much enjoying the feeling of her hands in his hair and massaging his scalp. It was more relaxing than he imagined it could be, and it allowed him to let go of some of his stress and worries about the moment.

"You have great hair," she said. Turning the water back on, she asked him to lean his head back again. Curiously, he noted how gentle her voice was.

"Thanks," he said, in reply to her compliment. He allowed himself to just enjoy the warmth of the water as it ran off his forehead and down through his hair.

"Okay, stand up," she said, as she turned the water off again.

Doing as she said, the relaxation of the hair washing then turned into a more anxious state, as he felt exposed again.

"Lift your arms up."

He closed his eyes. She sprayed his entire body down.

"Ouch!" he said, as she directed the jets of water straight on the head of his penis. "You can't point it directly at it like that."

"Sorry," she said, "I'm not used to the equipment. This better?" she asked, as she angled the shower head more towards the top of his shaft.

"Yeah, much."

She turned off the water and issued another, "Arms up," command. As she lathered under his arms and chest, she uttered, "Huh?"

"Huh, what?" Peter queried.

"Nothing," she said, playing innocent.

"Okay, so you can be washing someone's body for the first time, then say 'huh', and then say nothing," Peter objected. "How would you feel if I was washing your chest and said 'huh'?" He instantly realized what he said and tried to back track. "What I mean is, not 'cause you have, I mean you are fine, I just mean that 'cause I think of you like one of the guys, I mean...I just meant you can't say that when washing someone's chest."

"Oh, I'm just one of the guys, huh," she said, as she flicked water in his face.

"You know what I mean, everyone has insecurities. You can't just say 'huh'," he scolded her, as he flinched.

"Fine," she said, stubbornly. "I was just noticing you have more muscles than you look," she said, and then quickly added, "for a dork."

"You are lucky I can't flick water back in your face right now," he said, with a smile.

Through all this banter, she had finished with his torso, so she grabbed the water and rinsed. His heart started beating faster, as this meant she'd move on, and by move on, he knew that meant she'd be working on his mid-section.

Much to his surprise, she skipped over and went to his legs. She had him sit on the plastic chair again. She spread apart his legs. His balls fell and hit the plastic as she did so. She spent a while on his legs, and he wondered again, if this was a female thing. Or was she doing this because she too was uncomfortable with the mid-section?

She started washing his feet, first one and then the other. He couldn't tell if she was washing his feet or massaging them. Either way, he didn't care. As she moved up his legs, she would switch between one and the other rinsing as she went. She even washed behind his knees. She spread his legs even further as she got above his knees. He was keenly aware of his cock and balls just sitting so plainly out in the open. She began washing up his thighs. It was on his inner thighs, when he started to feel that beginning of tingling in his loins again. He started to panic.

"Okay, that's good," he squeaked, as he stood up quickly. He was worried what would happen if she kept going.

She just looked up at him with a smirk, and lathered up her hands with soap. He closed his eyes. She was taking a while. He peeked and looked down. She was staring quizzically at his penis.

"So, how exactly do you do this?" she asked. "I don't want to hurt it again."

"I don't know, I guess I never thought about it before," he replied. "I guess grab the head and lather the main section, and then the balls." Peter asked himself, "Did I just say main section?"

She grabbed the head the way one would hold a snake by the tail to examine it. With her other hand, she quickly rubbed soap all around. This was so unusual, he laughed to himself and wondered why he was worried at all about her washing him. This was definitely not a turn-on, getting such a weird washing.

That sentiment quickly changed, however, when she then started soaping his testicles. She wrapped her hands around his balls and was kind of spinning them around. In doing so, she let go of the head of his penis, so that it flopped down on the top of her hand that was soaping his balls. The spinning motion of her hand felt great, both on his balls and shaft at the same time. She was also lathering way more and taking more time than he ever did.

The combination of the feeling of her hand and it being several days since his last release, had the natural effect one would imagine it would. Blood quickly rushed to his cock, and he could feel it rising off her hand. He wasn't fully hard, but even if you were blind, you'd know what was happening.

"That's probably good," he said a bit breathless, in hopes of staving off further engorgement. He looked down. She looked back up at him. In that moment, he was standing over her as she was on her knees, his balls in her hand and his dick pointing strong like a compass in a north by northwest direction at her face.

"Sorry," he half said, half squeaked, as she let go and stared.

He turned his back sideways to her, half out of embarrassment and half out of hoping she'd just move on; his half-mast cock, swinging side to side. He so badly wanted to stroke it.

She grabbed a washcloth and washed his backside. Her hand in his crack, washcloth or not, made his eyes widen in surprise. This was a whole other level of intimacy with another person.

"Rinse," was all she said. He worried that he had grossed her out.

She turned the water back on, and he stayed facing away from her.

She rinsed the soap off his backside and then commanded, "Turn."

Luckily, he had deflated some, and was only about a quarter hard.

She didn't say anything. She sprayed at the base of his dick and then up towards the balls. The spray felt nice from the underside, and he'd worried that he'd get hard again, but she turned off the shower and put the nozzle back in place.

She grabbed a towel off the counter and just said, "Dry."

There was an awkward tension in the air. Her one-word commands had Peter freaked out now. Had he ruined their friendship?

She started on his hair and just worked her way down in a mechanical fashion.

"How do you dry this thing?" she asked. Peter was thankful she was saying more than just one word.

This, too, he had ever thought of before, "I guess the same way you washed it?"

She patted around and squeezed gently. The warmth of the towel and her touch made him respond again. He was back at half-mast.

"I'm really sorry, Katie. I'm not trying to be a jerk" he said, trying to smooth it over.

"Look, it's a normal natural reaction, I won't take it personally."

"Yeah, you shouldn't," he said, nervously.

She looked at him, as though a little hurt.

"Wait, I didn't mean it that way. You totally make me ha-- Oh man, this is just really embarrassing is all. I can't seem to say the right thing today."

"I make you what?" she coyly asked. "What do I make you? I couldn't quite hear you there, Peter."

"Happy," Peter quickly came up with. "You totally make me happy."

"Uh-huh, yup, that's exactly what you were going to say," she said, with a chuckle. "Well, it, at least, seemed to make it easier to dry off when it's like that."

Peter was glad she was at least joking around a little. He wished he knew what she was thinking.

She picked up and held open his underwear for him to step into. She helped him into his shorts and then shirt, pushing his half-hard cock down into his boxer briefs this time. He liked the feeling of her hand down his pants. At least the tent in his shorts wasn't a surprise to her this time.

"I'm going to take a shower first," she said, and then added, "which, means, shoo," flicking her hands up at him in a 'get out' motion.

"No quid pro quo again, I see," Peter fake protested, trying to keep the humor going. "You can wash me all over, but I can't wash you, even a little?"

"Durrr!? Your arms are in casts, how would you even do that?" she said, perplexed.

"Well, I could lick you like a cat," Peter quickly offered up. He was shocked at those words escaping his mouth. He also wondered where the hell that thought came from unexpectedly. Must have had pussy on the mind, he thought. He hoped he hadn't freaked her out again.

"You'd probably like that!" she said, pushing him gently out the door and starting to close it right behind him.

"And you wouldn't?" Peter turned and called out, through the small gap of the closing door. It was his turn to give her some grief and relieved she seemed to be okay with it.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said, with a big smile on her face, as she opened the door wide enough so he could see her face. She started to shut the door and then suddenly, opened it back up so he could see her again. "Wait!" she exclaimed.

Peter could only see her head, but he could tell there was some shuffling of her body just behind the door.

"Here's a consolation prize for you," she said devilishly, as she thrust a fist out the door, almost hitting Peter in the face. "It's not exactly quid pro quo, but..." she trailed off.

Peter had to take a quick step back from her fist. He was confused at first. What was she even talking about? However, it quickly became clear as she opened her fist, and held in front of him, her panties pinched between her thumb and middle finger.

Peter's mind and senses competed with each other in the race of his lifetime. She had awakened his arousal mentally, visually, as well as bodily. He loved the idea that she was naked from the waist down, just behind the door. He loved the idea that she was offering up something, so personal and intimate, for him alone. He loved the idea that she was being overtly sexual and naughty. He could feel that warm tingling rush of blood further stiffening his cock. He also wanted to act, but he wasn't even sure what he could do here. Grab them with his teeth? In that moment, he so wanted to inhale the scent that lay between the folds of fabric in front of him. Sadly, he didn't get the chance.

"Since you aren't taking them, I guess you don't want them," she said, laughing. Peter watched in horny desperation, as they floated silently to the floor.

"Oh, that's just cruel," Peter jested, with her. This was a new level of excitement, Peter thought.

"Some people just don't know how to accept a gift," she winked at him, and closed the door resolutely.

All Peter could do was stare at the panties on the floor. He thought he detected a small wet area in the center. He also thought he saw a curly brown pubic hair. God, he was horny. He wondered, if he would have been able to pick up those panties right then, would he also have been brave enough to open the door to even move, literally and figuratively. He looked down, and without a doubt, saw a spot of pre-cum spreading out, where the tip of his penis stretched out his light-blue underwear.

_____

"Kate, would you mind fixing the pillow for me? It's lopsided," Peter asked.

"No problem," Katie responded. She sat up, put down the only small light source in the room, her phone, and turned toward him. "Lift your head up a little," she said.

He leaned his body forward as best he could, as she reached both hands around to head to take both ends of the pillow in her hands, and started to shake it up. She had him in what amounted to a light embrace.

In doing so, this brought her hair falling all around him. He felt its softness on the side of his face and his neck. Her hair held a hint of strawberry. This shaking motion also made her bare breasts sway against his chest.

After a few seconds of this, she stopped, but didn't pull back immediately. He was a little freaked out by his desire to breathe all of her in. He could palpably feel the warmth of her skin radiating out towards him. He wanted to figure out how to move closer to her.

Clearing her throat, she said, "That should do it," as she pulled away.

He closed his eyes, as she pulled away from him, hoping to capture the moment in his senses. Slowly, they both lay back down on their backs. Many thoughts raced through his mind.

"Pete?"

"Yes?" he responded, expectantly.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said, after a short pause. He was really hoping that she had something else to say, something about what had been going on. He lay there for a while trying to calm his mind, but he couldn't get the sense of her being that close to him, out of his head.

"Do you really look at me like I'm just one of the guys?" she asked out of the blue. "You said today in the shower, that you look at me like I'm one of the guys," she added, for clarity.

He paused. Should he tell her his many thoughts of the last few days? His seeing her in a new way--his deep, realized connection to her.

"Hmmm, well, that's a funny word, look. I'm not sure I've ever been looking."

"Oh, okay," she said, with obvious disappointment.

Realizing that his statement was ambiguous, and she took it to mean he never looked at her, he continued.

"Wait, that's not what I mean, Kate. My whole life, you have been there. You were there when I first rode a bike, you were there when I first drove a car, you were even there when I puked all over my mom after eating too much cotton candy and riding the tilt-o-whirl at the fair. My whole life you've been there, right in front of me, but it's not been until this last week or so, that I've ever actually looked at what was right in front of me. Or rather, to see what was right in front of me. You are funny, you make me laugh all the time. You are so kind, you have taken care of me, but not just these past weeks, but my whole life."

He stopped talking. He wanted to say more, but he didn't want to mess up their friendship. His heart was beating so loud, he was sure she could hear and feel it through the bed.

"So, you do or don't look at me like one of the guys? she asked again, seemingly confused.

"You are my best friend. I don't want to lose that. Perhaps it's better not answered."

"Why not take a chance?" she prodded, after a pause.

"Because these past couple of weeks, my eyes have been opened and I have looked at you with a wider lens than I ever imagined I would look at you. I've looked at you and I've seen the most amazing woman, who is so smart, so funny..." he paused momentarily, and pushed out his vocal chords, "...so beautiful. I've looked and seen what we have, and you are so much more to me than just one of the guys. Kate, I have looked, and I finally see what's been in front of me all along. My best friend who I'm in love with.

"You going to say anything?" he said, after a painfully long silence. "I hope I didn't just ruin the best thing in my entire life. You said to take a chance," he added, trying to justify his confession.

Kate flipped over onto her stomach and angled her head toward him, propping herself on her elbows. He looked at her, as she studied his face. He would have given anything in that moment, to know what he was thinking. With her right hand, she gently pushed his hair back from the right side of his face; her finger tracing across his temples, towards the back of head. Her touch alone was glorious. It was all he needed at that moment. She continued to stroke his hair and face, her head tilted slightly. He had come to love being close enough to hear even the smallest of her breaths, and share these moments--he closed his eyes to savor this one.

Stopping her caressing motions, he opened his eyes to look at her. She moved to stick her neck out, to move her head closer to him. He instinctively moved towards her. With the softest of impact, their lips met for the first time in their lives; two became one, as time and space seemingly dissipated. In later years, Peter could not recall if it was but a moment, or minutes, that their lips held their position, but he knew it was the most amazing kiss of his entire lifetime.

Katie pulled back and they both looked at each other. "I've wanted to do that for the longest time," Kate said, softly.

Pete smiled back at her. "I'm glad you did."

Kate turned on her side and rested her head, half on his pillow, half on his shoulder. Pete, feeling bold, gently kissed the top of her head. For the streak of bad luck he had been on, his luck had certainly turned around.

Kate draped her arm across his upper torso. "This hurt?"

"No, it's perfect." Pete kissed the top of her head again, savoring her aroma.

"Goodnight, Peter Arnold."

"Goodnight, Kathrine Jane."

The last thing Peter remembered was the warmth of her body and the oneness of their beings, before he drifted off to sleep

____

Pete awoke first again, as it had been most mornings. As often happens when people sleep together, they awake in different positions than they fell asleep in. At some point in the night, they had rolled on their sides to face each other. He wondered how she was even more beautiful this morning, than she was yesterday. Perhaps, it was because he had finally given himself permission to admit how he felt about her. Perhaps, it was because it was because she returned the same feelings. Either way, he had never been more in love than he was in this moment.

Her lips were pursed and full. The soft, frizzed curls of her hair on her cheeks were more beautiful than ever. The fine hairs of her dark brows stood out in contrast against her creamy skin. There was such a familiar comfort of watching her sleep.

"Hi," he said softly, as her eyes began to open.

"Hi," she said sleepily, and began to stretch. She put her hands in child's praying form between her head and her pillow.

"You are striking," Pete found himself saying.

"Hopefully that is a good thing," she said.