Kimberly might not have been drunk
Kimberly might not have been drunk, but she certainly wasn't sober.
Stumbling from the car with her bag in one hand, and her coat in the other, she stopped, directly in front of the headlights. Lifting her skirt up, she wiggled her ass at me. Giggling loudly, as only the slightly tipsy can, she ran off to the side of the road, and did it again.
I was torn. I could sit there and stare at her long legs, black panties carelessly uncovered, smile almost painted on her face. I could. For hours. Or I could get out of the car and help her. It was readily apparent that she wasn't going to make it into her apartment alone, at least not for some time. I took what I convinced myself was the high moral ground, and got out of the car.
Locking it behind me with the remote, I walked over to where she was standing, feet apart, face down, trying fruitlessly to lower her skirt again, and becoming frustrated by the inability of her full hands to complete the job. I reached down, pulled her hands away, and straightened her skirt decently over her legs. When I looked up again, she was just staring at me, so I took the coat from her, put my hand in hers, and started towards the entry to the building.
She didn't say anything, just came along quietly with me, still smiling, and skipping a little. Okay, maybe she was drunk.
We got into the building without incident, and slowly clambered up the one flight of stairs, stopping now and then for no apparent reason, and once, reasonably enough, to remove her shoes.
Getting inside the apartment was a whole different deal. After shuffling through her handbag to no avail for a while, she just thrust out her arm at me. The intent was plain enough, and I took it off her, feeling a little strange, and looked for the keys. They were there, in plain sight. Yeah, alright. Drunk. Oh dear.
I handed the bag back, and stepped up to the door. As I turned the key in the lock, the door popped open. Kim had been leaning on it. She stumbled into the apartment, almost falling, and dropped the bag on the floor. I followed her in, closing the door, picking up after her, hanging the coat, and dropping her keys back in the bag.
I turned to speak to her then, and she'd disappeared. I assumed she was headed to the bathroom, and I stood around in the kitchen, thinking I'd just check she was all right before I left. I fell into an armchair and waited. It didn't take long for her to return, and sure enough she'd been to the bathroom, but had also taken the opportunity to lose the annoying skirt. Now was just wearing the black t-shirt and the matching panties I'd seen outside.
She just giggled at my stare, and padded over to the fridge, intending to ensure sobriety was left well behind. I intercepted her then, and steered her to a bar stool in the kitchen, suggesting that I get some coffee.
I started the jug and then followed her giggly instructions to get out the cups and coffee. A few minutes later, she was in hysterics, and I'd managed to assemble two actual hot drinks. I took them over to the breakfast bar and sat down opposite her. From here I could avoid looking at anything below her chest. That was distracting enough in itself.
We chatted for a while about the evening, about our mutual friends, about both of our jobs. Innocent happy nattering. About the time she finished her coffee, I could see she was struggling to keep her eyes open, and I suggested she go to bed.
She surprised me then by opening her eyes wide, and telling me that if she was going to do that, then I was going to need to undress her, and tuck her in. Fact is, she didn't have a lot of undressing left to do! Despite my better judgement I agreed, and she got unsteadily off the stool, walked around and took my hand, and led me into the bedroom, still chatting about all manner of inconsequential things.
I'd never been in her bedroom before, but it was much as I'd have expected. Frilly and feminine, but not unduly so. I spied the skirt, thrown carelessly in the corner of the floor. She walked the two of us over near the bed.
Turning to face me then, she said nothing. Instead, Kim put her arms around me, pulled me close, and kissed me resoundingly on the mouth, before stepping back slightly, lifting her arms up high in an unmistakable gesture.
I was very sure I shouldn't be doing this, but had passed the point where I could have managed to say no. Reaching down and taking the hem of her shirt in my hands, I lifted slowly, watching her pale midriff appear above the waistband of her panties. I hadn't been able to tell for sure, but suspected she'd removed her bra at the same time as the skirt, and my guess proved to be correct. Two beautiful pale breasts appeared beneath the shirt as I lifted, and it was all I could do to resist kissing the large dark nipples as the shirt covered her face. I continued, pulling the dark cotton over Kim's head, making her broad smile again visible. The shirt pulled off her arms without trouble, and she stood there just in the black briefs.
She twirled for me then, enjoying the tension, and the chance to show off. She noticed the bulge in my pants too, and smiled some more. Facing me again, she pressed herself to me and repeated the earlier kiss. There certainly wasn't any embarrassment in her nudity. As she stepped back slightly again, I knew what I needed to do next. Sliding my hands down her sides, and feeling her shiver, I hooked my thumbs in the sides of her panties, and looked in her face for confirmation. She nodded slowly, and gave me a quick peck on the lips and I slowly crouched, dragging her panties down her long legs, uncovering what I thought would be a mousy brown mound, matching the hair on her head. To my surprise, she had no hair down there at all. I looked up, and she grinned at my discovery, amused at my surprise.
I pulled the panties down to her feet, and held them while she stepped out of them. As I let go, she kicked them over to the corner with her other clothes, and stood before me, totally naked. Smiling. Eager.
* * *
I stood there before him, totally naked. Smiling. Eager.
I knew Phil was hanging on the edge. From his perspective, he shouldn't have been here, shouldn't have let me take my skirt off, shouldn't have undressed me, certainly shouldn't have given me that 'fuck me now' kiss. But he did. That was done. I wondered what would happen next.
I didn't want to trick him into my bed. I didn't want to coerce him. I did want him in there though, have no doubt.
I was pretty sure Phil thought I was drunk, but I wasn't nearly as inebriated as I appeared. I was just happy, and relaxed, and comfortable. Okay, and horny.
Convinced that he couldn't work out what to do next, I gave him an opportunity. I reminded him that he was going to tuck me in, and then I climbed into bed, and slid down between the cool sheets, leaving just my head above the blanket.
He straightened the covers needlessly before surprising me just a little by asking me if I wanted a goodnight kiss, or a real kiss. I opted, of course, for the real kiss, wondering exactly what he meant.
He leaned over me then, his hands either side of my head, and lowered his face to mine, touching my lips lightly with his. I couldn't stand it, and my hands shot out from under the blankets and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him to me, hard. Our lips mashed together, and I took a chance, attacking him with my tongue. He resisted for a moment, and then welcomed me into his mouth, his tongue twining with mine, pressing and stroking, sucking and sliding.
Obviously this was a little awkward, and he gave up and relaxed, settling himself above me, his clothed body on my naked one. I could feel his bulge through the thin blanket, and that heightened my state even more. I could also feel myself dripping silently between my thighs, hot and needful. The kiss continued through all of this, Phil's tongue as eager as mine, exploring all the space available, moans escaping from his lips as his body pressed into mine.
As his position changed a little, I couldn't stand it any longer, and began to move beneath him, answering the pressure from him with my own, undulating gently, loving his weight on me. As he pressed, and I pushed back in response, he seemed to suddenly come to his senses, and removed his mouth from mine, telling me that, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't fuck. Not here, not now.
He jumped from the bed then, and stood before me. I reached out to caress the tent in his trousers, to convince and coerce, despite myself, but he jumped back, and told me it couldn't happen.
I nodded slowly, tears flowing from my eyes, but my body also still dripping, so, so horny.
I listened as he stood there, uncomfortably erect, hard with both arousal and determination, and told me, in no uncertain terms, what he would like to do to me, with me, for me, if only he was able. He told me how long he'd wanted to, how tempted he was to continue, how much he wanted to stay.
And then, as I blushed, and dripped, he told me exactly what he wanted me to do after he left. Where to touch, what to rub, how to stroke, how much he wanted me to come.
I was beyond any reasonable self control by then, and as he stood talking to me I reached my hands down, under the blanket, knowing he could see something of what I was doing, knowing how much he wanted to see. How much he couldn't ask.
My fingers found something hot, wet and slippery, a desperate fire that needed to be extinguished, and I concentrated on the feelings as I rubbed and stroked, remembering his words, becoming part of the sensation, forgetting about the situation.
I closed my eyes, as my body began to move in a most familiar way, my hips thrusting to meet my fingers, and I imagined what I wanted it to be, and thought of how it could be his hard cock instead of my fingers, his lips on mine, his chest sliding on my nipples, his come bursting out of him inside me. Just for a short very special moment he was there, on me, in me, pressing, breathing, sighing, moving oh so nicely, rocking perfectly. As he came, so did I, a screaming clamping drawn out orgasm, my muscles in knots, my nerves wonderfully on fire, body shaking, eyes clamped shut.
Slowly my body relaxed. Eventually, I released my imprisoned fingers, shuddering again as they slid to freedom, I forced my body to relax, then slowly opened my eyes to see what his reaction was.
To find that he was gone. Back home, to my sister.