I first met Kimmy through a mutual friend and she instantly made an impression on me. Literally - we first met at a local concert and as she surfed overhead I got beamed with an army boot. But when we finally got talking, I didn't mind the potential concussion. She was a cool girl to know; smart, pretty, funny. It turned out we had plenty in common and plenty to talk about, but as far as I could see our relationship was one of friendship and nothing more.
It's not that I didn't find her attractive. Quite the opposite, in fact; my view of beauty has always been a little more left field, to the more "alternative" looking girl. Kimmy certainly fit that mould. She proudly wore her thick-rimmed glasses, hiding sparkling green eyes behind them. Her naturally blonde hair was usually tied up in ponytails, hanging down and resting on her shoulders. She had curves in all the right places, but what I noticed quite early on was every time she laughed you could see a shining silver stud on her tongue. I once asked her why she got it. She told me she'd seen Pulp Fiction and wanted to see if it really did add more pleasure.
Sex was a subject we talked about, and she was pretty matter-of-fact about it. I found that kind of a turn-on, and on one or two occasions my mind did drift off to visions of her impressive breasts encased in a tight T-shirt (ironic slogan emblazoned across the front, of course) and similarly tight jeans holding the large round curve of her ass. Kimmy filled out in all the right places, so you'll forgive me if I found her stimulating from time to time.
That first night was quite memorable, as is always the case. I met a number of friends at a gig featuring some local bands. In truth, a lot of these bands suck, but you've got to support your local scene, and the drink was cheap. It was pretty damn late when the owners finally pushed us out of the building.
"Jesus, I'm fucking cold!" Kimmy yelled with her usual restraint.
"I bet you are," I replied. She had decided that the best outfit for a cold October evening was a bright yellow T-shirt that barely covered her (definitely braless) breasts and a black skirt that may have left more to the imagination, but certainly didn't keep in the heat.
"Give me your coat," she demanded.
"I'm not giving you my coat," I said.
"Give it!"
So I gave her my coat. I was about to get into a taxi when she asked if she could ride with us.
"Sorry, babe, no room," said Tommy, a man for whom chivalry was most certainly dead. "Guess you're just gonna have to walk. You don't live too far away."
"I can't walk home alone," she insisted.
"Look, I'll go with you," I said. All I wanted to do was go home, but I figured I could walk Kimmy back to her place, get my coat back, and then call a cab.
We waved the others goodbye and started walking. It was freezing, and I was visibly shaking.
"Come here," Kimmy said, opening up the coat. "There's room for two."
I gladly snuggled into the coat. The warmth from both our bodies stopped me shaking. However, I couldn't help but feel that this was a bit too close, a bit too intimate, for friends. Friends? We weren't even that.
I was thankful when we finally got to her building. She handed me back my coat.
"Now what are you going to do?" she asked.
"I've gotta call a taxi and go home," I replied.
"Come on, you can call from my place. Give you a chance to get a mug o' tea in you, warm you right up."
I was certainly grateful, so we walked up to her apartment. It was a pretty small place, with a large central area that included her kitchen, and a smaller separate room that I guessed was her bedroom. I sat down on her couch while she boiled the kettle and made two mugs of tea. She brought them over and sat down beside me, curling her legs up underneath her body.
"How is it? Not too hot?" she asked.
"No, it's great, thanks," I answered.
"Good to get something hot inside you from time to time," she said, grinning.
I smiled and took another mouthful. Just then she placed her hand on my arm.
"Thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it," she said.
