Overthinking

James had no idea whether this was going to work; he thought he had seen something like it in a movie or TV show, the only experience he had of seeing somebody rescued from handcuffs. He wished he knew how to pick the lock, that would be a cool and slightly edgy skill to show off in front of Ashley right now.

He paused for a second after whispering in her ear, looking at her short blonde hair, matted together and made darker by the water from the shower as it fell across her cheek. His eyes followed the curve of her ear to the line of her jaw, the muscles of her slender neck meeting her collarbone and he thought of the many times he had imagined kissing her there.

So many times he had wanted to tell Ashley how he felt, and still he knew he never, ever would. It was so stupid: he was a football player, a fairly big guy, good looking, quite chatty. Popular. Respected. He would have no problem asking a girl out, except for the one girl he really wanted to ask out.

The problem was that he had fallen for her after they became friends. If he had just seen her and asked her out straight away things might have been different, but when they first met he didn’t see her in that way. She was clever, well read, sharp – somebody to go to for help with algebra or statistics, not the kind of curvy blonde with big tits he always thought of as his type. She was petite, often wearing loose clothes which hid her figure. Pretty, yes, with kind blue eyes and sharp features, but not what he had ever thought of as beautiful. But they had found a lot of shared interests, she seemed surprised to find a geeky soul inside his jock’s body, and she started to relax around him and laugh and make fun of him and get angry at him when he trounced her in a game she thought she was good at, and one day he realised that when her name flashed up on his phone he suddenly felt happy. When she walked into a room his heart stopped for a second. When she looked at him with those blue eyes he saw how stunning she was and how much he loved her. He had lived with that pain ever since. When they were apart his heart ached for her. When they were together his heart broke because she could never know how he felt.

He could never tell her, he could never risk her laughing at him or feeling sorry for him because she just didn’t feel the same way. He couldn’t risk her feeling awkward and slowly becoming distant and gradually wanting to hang out less and less – he couldn’t risk losing her. So he joked around and acted confident and made sarcastic comments to hold her at arm's length and avoid truly giving himself over to her.

He was grateful for the hot water of the shower, making his skin pink and hiding his blushes. Walking into this cubicle, naked, with his stupid erection was probably the most difficult decision of his life so far. He had wanted to run away and hide when she looked at his boner, but the sight of her trying to hide from him, trying to cover her pert boobs and pointy nipples, the shape of her hip and thigh when she turned away, the briefest glimpse of her smooth pussy, well, he was rooted to the spot.

And of course he couldn’t have left her there. He had to help her. So he slipped back into character: cocky, confident, jokey. And the erection? What do you expect, finding a naked chick handcuffed to the shower? No, don’t be silly, it’s totally not because I have loved you forever and not a day goes by when I don't dream of being naked with you. Oh no, not at all. It’s because I am just a regular horny guy, so get over yourself, shorty.

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Ashley looked up at him hopefully. He has an idea? James was going to be able to fix this after all! He seemed lost in thought for a moment, his eyes distant. Then he seemed to return from wherever he had drifted away to, smiled confidently then winked theatrically at her and stood up straight. She tried to follow his face, but hunched over like this, hiding from anybody who might glance into the cubicle from outside, she couldn’t crane her neck enough. Instead her eyes travelled down across his broad shoulders and chest, the muscles of his abdomen, and there it is again: his erect penis, magnificent, strong and rigid, bouncing slightly and pointing straight at her. A droplet formed on the very tip, rolling down the slit in his pink and swollen glans and she watched it drip slowly, much thicker than the water from the shower until it fell to the white floor and disappeared in the water at his feet. She couldn’t move her hand from her breasts to her pussy; that would be too obvious and she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist stroking herself. She couldn’t risk him noticing. But her insides felt so electric right now, she could squeeze her thighs together, then release them, squeeze and release, he wouldn’t notice that, surely?

Ashley looked up to see James holding the soap bottle in one hand, squeezing it. The thick white gel squirted out into his other hand and he replaced the bottle on the shelf, vigorously rubbing to form a lather. Is he having a wash? Now? His cock wiggled and bounced in time with his hands and for some reason this seemed to be the sexiest thing she had ever seen. She was mesmerised, hypnotised by the movement, and she wanted so much to reach out and hold it, to feel the heat of it, to take his hardness in her hand. But this was James, her best friend, the guy who always called her out when she did or said something silly, who made fun of her and made her laugh so much. She couldn’t even imagine how he would react if he knew what she was thinking and feeling right now, but he certainly would never let her forget about it. He would never stop teasing her, ribbing her, riding her hard. Oh god, she thought again.