Accidents Will Happen

It was an accident. Anita will tell him it was an accident. Accidents will happen. That won't placate Doug. So, I'll grab a beer and watch a movie and wait for the inevitable pounding on my door. With any luck, I'll escape with only a black eye and a split lip. Maybe I deserve them...

Doug and Anita live right next door. I've known Doug my whole life. We were best buddies until we went to different colleges. Via independent routes, we ended up back in our hometown. The steel mill has closed down, but the town replaced that single employer with a bunch of tech firms and the like. Both Doug and I ended up in adjoining buildings do similar work for two quite different firms. We both saw great potential in the old steelworker's neighborhood. Well-built houses for a steal in a market that could only go up. 950 and 952 Birch Road hit the market within days of each other and Doug and I became proud homeowners in short order. The houses would need a lot of work, but the investment would pay off big time.

Doug met Anita in college, and they tied the knot not long before we bought our houses. I was pleased and honored to be Doug's best man, but I will admit that for a moment there when Anita was being escorted down the aisle by her father, that I hoped she would end up standing next to me instead of my best friend. Anita is a stunning brunette with a china doll face, crystal blue eyes, and the cutest of noses. She stands five-five, has an incredible figure with nice tits and legs to die for. I managed to hide my jealously before and after the wedding. Still, I envied Doug his Bermuda honeymoon with such a ravishing bride.

I'd done my part as the perfect best man. At the reception, I delivered a wonderful toast with brilliant bon mots that brought out both tears and laughter from the assembled revelers. The week before; I saw to it that the stripper I hired, a fiery Philippina, with a spectacular compact little body saw to his needs with astonishing gusto after she shed the last of her costume. Anita never heard about her husband-to-be lying prone on the floor while the stripper sat on his face as she sucked him off. Doug claimed, afterward, that it was "heavenly."

Anyway, Doug, Anita, and I had a pretty lassie-fair thing going on. Basically, an open-door policy while we were undergoing simultaneous renovations. Doug and I split the cost of tools and rentals, saving both of us money. We checked in on each other and lent a hand wherever it was needed. Doug would walk in or me and I'd walk in on Doug. We only locked our doors at night.

I had an off day while the computer guys at work were installing the new upgrades, so I took advantage of the time. I had just laid a new floor in the sunroom and this was my opportunity to get the linoleum down. The bare wooden floor was coated in adhesive. I was manipulating the roll of linoleum in preparation of laying it in place when Anita came breezing into the room, a plate of just-baked chocolate chip cookies in her hands. "Doug?" - that was all she got out. She hit the slick floor, proceeded to slide across it like a speedster stealing second base while also managing to upend my open bucket of glue and getting it all over her.

"Anita!" I cried casting aside the linoleum. The thing about linoleum is that you have to get it in place fast. The adhesive is quick-drying and tough as nails once it's set and here was my best friend's wife coated in it from ankle to chin in the stuff. I had to work fast!

Anita sputtered. "Wh... Wha... What is this stuff, Mike?"

"Quick drying and nasty. We have to get it off you right away," I replied.

Anita tried to stand up, but her jeans were already stuck to the floor. She was wearing a red cotton blouse and the glue was busy doing what glue is supposed to do, attaching surface A to surface B. I was rapidly running out of time! I hustled to get my industrial shears out of my toolbox.

"Forgive me, Anita!" I shouted as I waved the shears in the air.

Anita clearly understood. She physically blanched but returned with, "Get me out of this mess, Mike!"

I strode through the glue in my work boots and knelt by Anita. Without any ceremony at all. I began slicing up one leg of her jeans all the way to the beltline. I cut through one side of the jeans and then the other. The shears did not allow me the dexterity of avoiding her panties. I tossed the destroyed jeans into a corner. There, before my eyes was Anita, naked from the waist down! Now I'd imagined a lot when I had fantasized about Anita and jerked off to her naked mental image when I was feeling either especially horny or lonely. I already knew, from seeing her in shorts, that she had fantastic legs, but I had never envisioned a neat and tidy landing strip with a delicate tiny rose tattooed on either side of her mouth-watering vulva! I forced the image from my mind and scooped up Anita into my arms. The back of her blouse tore away as I raised her.

Carrying her gingerly, I made my way to the bathroom. Along the way, I tugged off her sneakers and socks. I deposited Anita in the tub and turned the water on as hot as she could stand it. I then set to work on what remained of her blouse. The glue had penetrated that completely, so I had to cut off Anita's brassiere as well. One neat slice through the middle, between both breasts. Even after that, it took considerable tugging to get the blouse and bra off her. Sitting there, in my tub, stark naked was the wife of my best friend. I hurriedly wiped the leer off my face and ran and got the turpentine and a sponge. I returned to the bathroom, poured turpentine onto the sponge, and handed it to Anita. She quickly began wiping off what the hot water couldn't. I

had to sit on the edge of the tub and repeatedly replenish the sponge with turpentine. I also had to do her back and other parts she could not reach. This gave me lots of time to study her trim, lithe body from all angles. To state that my best friend is one incredibly lucky bastard is such a cliché, but it is true. Flat tummy with abdominal definition, sexy navel, a wasp waist, and the two finest tits I have seen anywhere, whether in real life, pornos, or magazines. I think I managed to do a decent job of looking like I wasn't looking while eagerly devouring her spectacular nudity. After about an hour, Anita was free of the gunk, her hands and feet pruned and her usually alabaster skin pink all over.

"You can leave, now, Mike. I want to take a shower and feel human again. Lay something out for me while I'm behind the curtain."

I didn't have to be told twice. I placed my bathrobe and a pair of slippers and old girlfriend had left behind on the commode lid and closed the door behind me. I was rock hard and must have been for quite a while, my erection was pressing so intensely on my fly that it was downright painful. Anita HAD to have noticed! I sighed and tried to look at it objectively. How pissed off could she be by my stiffy in light of the fact that I acted quickly to get her out of a dangerous situation? I sincerely hoped she would forgive me. While she was in the shower, I took a look at my sunroom. The floor would have to be sanded back down to the wood. There were also ugly footprints from my work boots all over my floors and rugs. Anita's jeans and the back of her blouse remained fastened in place like a bizarre snow-angel. I had to chuckle at that. Doug could not deny that both Anita and I were telling the truth when he saw the evidence plain as day. Even so, I doubt it will protect me from a beating. As much as I love Doug, he can be such a prick sometimes. He was a wrestler in high school and still sometimes sees violence and aggression as the answer to all his problems. Anita mostly keeps that part of him in check. I usually do a good job of that as well but after today. Yeah, I wasn't getting off with a Dutch rub or an atomic wedgie. Still, I had to conclude it was worth it.

I heard the shower cease and Anita exited the bathroom wearing my robe. She practically swam in it. She looked at me, nodded, and flushed red with embarrassment.

"Sorry for the mess I caused, Mike. Did I make you a lot of extra work?"

In fact, she had but I replied with, "Don't worry about it."

She stepped close to me, bent my head down with her hands, and planted a brief but wonderful kiss on my lips.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I'd best be getting home Doug will be arriving any minute. I'll get the robe and slippers back to you as soon as I can. I'll tell him it was entirely my fault. I apologize in advance for any adverse reaction he has."

"I appreciate that, Anita."

"It's the least I can do."

With that, she re-tightened the sash of my robe and made her way out my front door. About five minutes ago, I heard Doug's car pull into the driveway. I wonder if I have any raw steak left in the fridge.