Friends

Alkim

Alkim met Kate just a few months ago, in this very house, at the invitation of his old friend, Vicky. Vicky and Alkim went to high school together (though she was three grades and five years his senior), and the pair were recently reconnected by a friend of a friend who knew both were living in Los Angeles and arranged for them to reconnect.

After going clubbing together a few times with Vicky and her girlfriends, getting lunch, catching up, rebuilding their friendship, Vicky finally invited Alkim to her new place so he could meet her housemates. He knew all the girls worked at the same karaoke bar, so he knew they all had to be hot, but he could never have expected the welcome he received that night.

The full interaction was still seared into Alkim's brain. He first noticed Kate's pretty face, excellent smile, her bright pink hair... and as he reached out to shake her hand his eyes naturally traced down her tattooed arm to her chest, where his gaze caught on her tits.

Holy fucking shit.

Alkim had been in LA long enough to have seen a lot of extremely underdressed women, but he’d never been met at the door quite like this. Instead of a shirt, Kate was wearing a thin blue tank top and not a damn thing underneath. He could tell this because the tank top was slightly off center, and too thin for her frame, leaving her left nipple completely exposed to the air. Alkim hadn't known Kate for a full two seconds, and he already knew what her nipples looked like: perfectly centered on small areola, flushed pink, tiny, and acutely suckable.

Alkim's fucking heartrocket was skyrating, and he had no idea how long he was staring, or if he was staring at all. Time had slowed to a crawl, and he wasn’t sure if even a full second had passed since he looked down from her face.

Alkim moved his eyes back up to her face and focused all of his willpower on keeping his gaze above her collar bone.

Eye contact, eye contact, eye contact!

Never before had human eyes been so difficult to focus on. Kate broke Alkim’s internal panic by offering to make him a drink, which he eagerly accepted, following her into the kitchen. The moment she turned around he couldn't help but notice the rest of her “outfit,” if it could even be called that. The only clothes to grace her lower body were a pair of lacy purple panties wedged between the perfect globes of her ass. No skirt, pants, shorts, nor even indecently-short shorts. Just panties.

Alkim figured if this were a cartoon, this is when his eyes would have shot out of his face, and his mouth would have let out a steamboat whistle, or at least an “Awooga!” He was practically drooling. The rolling motions of her glutes were so hypnotic that he nearly crashed into her when she stopped at the kitchen table to make him that drink.

Alkim tried to wrap his head around how Kate could just walk around undressed like this in front of a strange man. She shared this house with three other people, and definitely knew that Vicky was having a guy friend over to visit.

Not wanting to spoil the view, Alkim did everything he could to avoid staring at her exposed assets and just have a normal conversation. To his delight, they hit it off immediately.

The two had a lot in common: Kate was from Hong Kong, like Alkim's dad, so they had a pretty strong cultural connection right off the bat: they were both university educated (and the only people in the house with degrees): both listened to metal: both very ADHD: and both were also very into mind altering ****, which they talked about at length.

Kate had recently read about DMT online and decided she wanted to try it out, so she had bought an entire pound of Acacia tree bark and wanted to extract the DMT herself, but didn’t really know how. Vicky had already told Kate that Alkim was some kind of scientist ( that was the extent of Vicky's understanding of his degree), and that he liked ****, so Kate asked Alkim if he could help her.

Luckily for her, Alkim definitely could. Though his degree was in biology, he had taken probably a total of six years of chemistry classes between high school and college, two of those being organic chemistry for his degree and pre-med requirements. He definitely knew how to run a basic non-polar extraction from raw plant material.

At that point Alkim was pretty much ready to propose to Kate. He had never had this much in common with any woman he’d met in his five years of dating. He'd dated girls who shared his academic interests, but hated partying; dated party girls who weren’t into learning and hated his music; dated girls who seemed compatible but wanted more emotional labor from Alkim than he was willing to provide. There was always something that stopped him from really getting romantically involved with any of them. Kate checked nearly every box he had, clicked instantly with him, and, on top of all that, she had a body that was just to die for.

Further conversation revealed just one small problem; Kate was gay. Not just gay, but super gay, a self described five-point-five-out-of-six-on-the-Kinsey-scale gay.

Just like that, all Alkim's hopes for romance were crushed into powder, burned to ash, and scattered to the four winds. He’d never been more disappointed over a woman in his life. It was as if Kate were sculpted by the gods for Alkim, only instead of a rib, the starting material had been one of his wet dreams, and instead of a loving god, the designer had been a genie with a mean streak. The end result was a gorgeous lesbian that liked what he liked, and was allergic to wearing clothes in his presence. Kate was definitely the closest he’d come to having a genuine “crush” since grade school.

Yet, devastating as that revelation had been, Alkim still wanted to be Kate’s friend, and they drank and chatted well into the night, after everyone else had either crashed or left to work a late karaoke shift. He spent that night on the couch. When Alkim woke up at noon the next day, he found that he and Kate were the only ones not completely smashed from the night’s debauchery.

With the kitchen to themselves, they ended up making that DMT, with Kate providing the materials and Alkim teaching her the chemistry involved as they went through each step of the extraction.

It was a thoroughly ridiculous scene; the pair leaning underneath the stove fan, mixing chemicals in glass cookware; Alkim, wearing shorts and performance tank top; Kate in just a shirt and panties; both wearing snorkeling goggles Alkim pulled from the trunk of his car, and all the while Teresa Teng's “Tian Mi Mi,” blasted from his Bluetooth speaker.

Altogether, they set a very confusing scene for anyone who happened to enter the kitchen.

That weekend the two became instant best friends. Alkim was couch surfing (so, homeless, but with friends and family) at that time, and Kate kept inviting him over so often that the next week she ended up just giving him the spare guest room (that didn’t lock), with a connecting half bathroom (and a broken shower). Since she was the sole name on the lease, and the room was vacant anyway, Alkim was able to stay, even though he couldn’t pay rent yet. With both Kate and Vicky behind him, he had finally secured the most LA housing situation possible, and at the unbeatable price point of zero dollars a month.

It also helped that Alkim was the only person there that knew how to properly cook and was willing to clean the common areas. He also knew where to get clean ****, so even the girls that thought he was a mooch didn’t think kicking him out was worth the effort. No one wanted to go back to buying dark-web adderall, molly that was on average thirty-percent meth, or coke that was probably fifty-percent baby powder.

Overall, a pretty good deal for everyone involved. At least, that’s how Alkim saw it.

Still, his new home came with new challenges.

His first weekend he made some Chinese food that Kate loved, and she scarfed down more than she’d intended. Kate was always very concerned with her weight, and said she needed to do some ab workouts to not get fat off his cooking.

So, in only a shirt and panties, Kate went to the couch opposite Alkim and started doing reverse crunches. Ass out, perfectly rounded cheeks jiggling obscenely, and her unblemished legs reaching for the ceiling, up, down, up, down.

Alkim was completely gobsmacked. It was the most casually sexy thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t do anything but stare at her hypnotic movements for several seconds before realizing how creepy he must have looked.

Finally, after watching for several more moments, Alkim decided he couldn't trust his eyes to not betray him. So, he **** himself to join her in doing crunches on the floor, just to stop himself from staring at her incredible ass.

Another night of coked up shenanigans, Kate suggested night swimming in her gym’s pool. Alkim agreed, needing to see her in swimwear. Even after every boner-inducing sight he’d been treated to, he still wasn't ready for Kate to change into the hottest fucking swimsuit he’d ever seen.

Though the suit had more fabric than a bikini, it somehow managed to be infinitely sexier. A network of crisscrossing black straps that framed her perfect abs, and crushed her tits together into a mouthwatering display of cleavage and underboob.

Underboob! For the Gym! At three am!

He could see everything through his goggles, and the pool was heated, so there was no cold water to sap away his erection. Before that night, he hadn’t even known one could swim with an erection.

Alkim thought Kate must know how hot he was for her, and it made him wonder if she was doing any of this to fuck with him specifically. Yet her casual indifference to his horniness, and her borderline nudist tendencies, led him to conclude that she really was just like that. A walking, talking wet dream. Every week brought some new ridiculously sexy incident, further ratcheting up both his infatuation and frustration.

Not to mention the three other girls in the house, all beautiful in their own ways.

Tall and thick; Vicky was already hot back in high school. Maturity, gym memberships, and the high standards of Los Angeles had only pushed her to even greater heights of sexiness.

Lithe and little; Mikaella was the spitting image of so many small and cutesy girls Alkim dated in college. He could have swapped her image out for any number of girls in his Instagram reels, and none would be the wiser.

And then there was Hannah, the curvy blonde loner. A veritable cryptid in her own home, and a mystery Alkim was then keen to unravel.

Alkim hadn't ever lived with so many women before, and he knew living there was going to be a constant struggle to stay sane and control his libido.

He had no idea how right he was.

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