Kimberly had to admit she was disappointed. After about eight years of trying she simply was not going to make it in Hollywood. A few B movies, a few bit parts, a few TV walk-ons; she winced at the credit "Woman in the hot tub" and thought nothing could be worse. Probably her biggest break was a regular character on a soap but that only lasted a few months. Now she was here in New York City for a few auditions but she knew they were going to lead to nothing. Here she was in a nice hotel on a Saturday night in the city that never sleeps and she felt like doing nothing.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Her green eyes flashed with liveliness and sensuality. Even under the bulky sweater her breasts stood out firm and ripe and she still didn't wear a bra. She shook her honey blonde mane of hair and laughed at herself. "Wake up girl." She said out loud. "Get yourself up; let yourself go." She pulled the sweater off and her nipples popped up erect; she shook her hair again and walked to the shower. On the way she peeled off her tight jeans and lacy panties.
She started the water in the shower and jumped on the bed as she waited for it to get hot enough for her. In the mirror she could see her naked body from her toes up. She looked at herself and wiggled her toes as she giggled. Her body was fine and she knew it. She spread her legs enough to expose her pussy and she imagined she was being photographed once more. Again she laughed at herself, thinking that her body was fine, even better than when she was a centerfold. No, it wasn't her body that was holding back her acting career.
She leaped from the bed and into the shower. The steamy hot water felt great streaming down her soft skin. She lathered herself up with her favorite peppermint soap and watched as little rivulets formed on the sheen of water spreading over her satin breasts and belly.
Slowly she began to work her hand down across her flat tummy and down between her legs. Soon Kimberly was fingering herself and pressing against her clit as the warm water ran all around her hand.
Her hand was moving in slow deliberate motions but as she got more aroused her actions became frantic. She leaned against the wall of the shower and oozed down to the floor. The water was running right into her pussy and Kimberly found herself writhing as her own juices became a deluge over her hand. She sat there breathing deeply as she recovered from her blissful daze.
After rinsing herself off she wrapped herself in the hotel bathrobe and found herself wandering around her room. She put on the TV but the movie did not hold her interest. Finally she found herself at the mirror doing her make up and hair. Kimberly had nowhere to go but she had to get out.
She slipped into a simple black wool dress that showed off her hourglass figure and she watched herself in the mirror as she unrolled sliver grey silk stockings over her fine legs. For some reason Kim loved to watch people get dressed, even herself. It was better than a strip tease. In measured and leisurely movements her fingers pulled the cool silk over her warm flesh and she reveled in the sensuous pleasure of the whispering fabric.
She wriggled some soft sheer panties over her hips and smoothed down the wool of the dress. She spun around and gave herself a wicked smile as her hair bounced over her shoulders. She pulled on a pair of black pumps and grabbed her coat and scarf and danced out the door.
Kimberly really had no idea where to go. It was late February and already dark. The streets of New York were oddly empty and Kim was lost in her own thoughts when she abruptly felt her legs fly out in front of her and her bottom hit the icy sidewalk with a loud bang.
Kim was startled and dazed but mostly she felt like a fool. She started to get up again and again tumbled down. She looked up to find a man standing over her. "Are you Ok? Let me give you a hand." He reached out with a gloved hand and pulled her up. She tried to stand but realized her left shoe was broke. She was leaning on the man and about to say thanks when she staggered again because of the broken shoe.
"I'll fix that," he said and simply bent down and snapped the heel off of her right shoe too.
"Those shoes cost two hundred dollars," she shouted with her Texan twang. She looked down at her now ridiculous looking feet and laughed. "Well, thank you kindly, I guess."
"Can I call you a cab or something. Where's your bag. Are you sure you're Ok? That was a nasty spill."
Kimberly smiled, amused by his attention and pulled her small purse out of the deep pocket of her overcoat to show him that she was all intact. "Thank you, no." She started to stagger away on the broken shoes but felt silly with the way she was waddling. He was right along side her.
"Actually New York City law requires me to at least buy you a cup of coffee since I saved your life."
"Oh, you saved my life? I thought you just ruined some very expensive shoes."
"No, I only ruined one expensive shoe. You did the other one. So I guess I only owe you half a cup of coffee. Look there's a place right here." They were standing in front of a typical NYC diner.
Kimberly stopped; she looked him up and down. He looked maybe thirty-five. He was slim but not overly muscular. He shaved his head but wore a knit cap in the cold. He had on jeans and an old army jacket. The pockets seemed to be stuffed with books and papers. Well, she was cold she told herself and her rear was sore from smacking the cold pavement. She also liked his eyes. He was trying to look serious and solicitous but his eyes were dancing with what seemed to be a delight in everything. It seemed to be the sort of face that was always happy. What harm is there in a cup of coffee?
"All right, I don't want you to get in trouble with the mayor. But let's find the rest of my shoe first." He bent down and came up proudly displaying both heels.
He jumped in front to hold the door. "Why thank you, kind sir," she said with mock-imperious tones. The shop was warm and practically empty. There was a counter on one side and booths on the other. Kim went to the last booth and sat. She slipped her coat off her shoulders and scrunched herself up to enjoy the warmth.
The man tossed his jacket on the seat and sat across from her. His grey sweater could charitably be described as moth eaten, but even stretched out and holey it looked comfortable and seemed to suit him.
"I'm Peter," he said reaching across the table to shake her hand. She took his hand and it was pleasantly warm.
"I'm Kimberly. Nice to meet you." Her voice seemed to get more Texan with every word she spoke. She felt very much at ease with him.
"Kimberly," he said almost to himself, "Kimberly."
She giggled. "Is there something wrong with my name?"
"Oh, no, sorry. I was just working out the meter. You know, poetry." He looked down as if embarrassed. She was still holding his hand which was now resting on the table. She put her other hand over it.
"Are you a poet?"
"Not hardly," he laughed. "Even worse, I'm a grad student."
"Really, what do you study?" She picked up her hands and rested her chin on them.
