Anna's Milk Ch. 03

"Does he need anything? Pajamas? A toothbrush?"

"We've got it all set," Moira said, as she walked over to the passenger side of her Miata and opened the door to let me in, playing the gentleman's role as she ushered me in: "He's going to borrow my extra jammies. And I've got a new toothbrush for him too!"

This was all news to me. I didn't dare look at my Mom. I got in the sports car, and then looked down and pretended to be quite busy buckling my seatbelt.

"Well, so long Sharon!" Moira said, smiling, as she got in and started her car, not bothering to buckle her seatbelt.

That wasn't something that happened in my family: not just not buckling the seatbelt, but any of what had happened in the last minute. But it wasn't over.

"Say hi to your parents for me!" My Mom suddenly blurted out to Moira while waving, finally seeming to have something useful to say that she could hold onto.

"Oh, they're both at the Lake House for the weekend!" Moira yelled back over the sound of the engine, with an even bigger smile, and then waved jauntily, and started backing her Miata out of our long driveway quite fast.

My Mom looked like she'd swallowed a toad as she rapidly shrank in the headlights.

Once we got out to the street I couldn't keep it in anymore, and said with shock and laughter:

"Shit! Shit!! Moira, you're fearless!"

"You've just noticed?" Moira said, and then floored the car, peeling out a little and was soon going almost double the slow 25 mph speed limit on our fortunately long and straight street.

"At least buckle your seatbelt!" I yelled with a mix of annoyance and alarm as the wind rushed past us.

"OK!" Moira said cheerfully, and almost slammed on the brakes. We came to a sudden halt. My seatbelt locked up as I lurched forward.

"Don't looked so worried, David," Moira said, as she glanced over while buckling her seatbelt, "Don't you like fast women in fast cars?"

"Uhhhh...?" I said.

"Seriously, David. It's OK. I'm just having some fun. Give me a kiss."

And she leaned over and puckered up her lips in a cute way.

I gave her a kiss in her little sports car. Her lips were soft and warm, her tongue tasted sweet, and she smelled beautiful, with a scent of fancy soap and just a hint of some exotic and sensual perfume. It smelled expensive. And then I suddenly remembered what it reminded me of a just little: Anna's cunt. I wondered if they formulated some "essence of sweet and musky pussy" to add to Moira's perfume.

As we separated Moira smiled at me, and I smiled back. I was glad she couldn't read my mind at that moment.

"OK, babe," Moira said, "Our date has started."

I hesitated to say it, but blurted out: "You were kind of mean to my Mom."

"Yeah," Moira said with a sigh, "I'm sorry. I wish I could blame it on PMS. But, actually—I'm ovulating right now!"

She said the last part as if this would be meaningful and happy news to me. But then she saw that I was totally mystified.

"That's too much information for you, right?" She added.

"Uhhh...?" I said, lost.

"Did you even know it was good timing to have a date with woman who's ovulating?" Moira smiled and raised her eyebrows. What does that mean to you?"

"Uhhh...family Planning??," I said, genuinely puzzled and thinking it was definitely TMI.

Moira laughed as if I'd told a joke, then started driving again at a much more normal speed, only slightly exceeding the speed limit.

"That's a start!" Moira said, seeming amused as she shifted. Then she added, glancing over at me once-in-a-while, "Why don't you ask Anna about it after tonight. But don't talk about the family planning part. That's a delicate subject with her. I mean Ben is great, but...shit! What a mess she's gotten herself into."

"OK," I said, laughing uncomfortably.

I then tried to change the subject by saying: "I looked at the theater listings, and there are maybe a few good movies we could see tonight."

Moira wrinkled her cute and slightly freckled nose up, looked over at me, and said, "I really just feel like cuddling up at home with some good take out. Does Indian work for you?"

"Yeah," I said with a bit of wonder, realizing that she probably hadn't been kidding with what she'd said to my Mom.

"Great!" she said, "What Indian dishes do you like?"

My family did do Indian a lot, and so I knew what I liked.

"Aloo gobi?" I said.

"Oh yeah!" Moira said with enthusiasm, "that spicy cauliflower and potato one! What else?"

"Well, a spicy lamb curry can be pretty good."

"Spicy lamb curry! David: that's one of my favorites. What else?"

"Vegetable Samosas?"

"Check." Moira said, as she gracefully shifted her fancy manual Miata, which did almost seem like the car version of her. We were almost to her house already.

"Anything else?" She asked.

"You pick," I said, "Surprise me."

"Sure," Moira said in almost dangerous way, adding, "I like surprising you."

We went into her huge house, which was even bigger than my parents', and she walked me directly to her bedroom, which I'd never seen. I'd known her for several years, but just at school. I was not someone that she invited to her birthday parties.

Her bedroom was large and elegant, and yet somewhat messy. She picked up a few dirty clothes off the floor, including two pairs of colored underwear, and just threw them in a corner.

"Well, here we are!" she announced, looking at me and smiling, "my sanctum sanctorum." We'd had Latin together, and so I knew it meant "Holy of Holies."

"You just sit here," she said, gently pushing me down with her hands onto her unmade Queen-sized bed, "and I'lll order the Indian."

"Think good thoughts about me!" She added with a conspiratorial wink.

I've mentioned that Moira was pretty. But it's difficult to describe how pretty. Like Anna, she could sometimes almost take my breath away, but otherwise they were entirely different. I guess Moira was a little like a mix between Winona Ryder in the 1990s and Mia Kirshner from the later show "The L Word." But Moira wasn't as busty as Winona or Mia...

Anyway, as I heard Moira on her parents phone in the hall ordering Indian food for delivery, I looked around her room—or rooms, I should say. Moira really had a three-room suite to herself: a large bedroom, a second room that was more like a sitting room or small living room, and then I could see through another door that she had her own large bathroom, with—I could just see it in the dim light—a large jacuzzi bathtub.

The furniture was elegant, but a weird mish-mash of frilly historical stuff (her dresser, as well as her couch and love seat) and modernist (her beautiful, huge wooden desk, which was piled with papers and junk).

The decorations were similarly all-over-the map, from Disney to Goth, pretty dolls to...a bong, which I suddenly saw sitting out as plain as day on her bedside table a few feet away from me.

Shit. I was in over my head in so many ways I'd started to loose count.

Moira came back in, smiling and saying, "It's all set. Should be here in half and hour or so," and then to my horror she walked right over to her bong and picked it up.

"I've got some amazing Maui-Wowie!" She smiled a big smile until she saw my face, and then it faded as she saw my worried expression.

"Oh my god," she said, "You've never...?"

"No," I admitted, "I haven't."

"Well," Moira said, hopefully, "No time like the present?"

"Ummm?" I said, stalling for time.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Moira said, "But is it OK if I just have a little? Honestly, I very rarely do it. And almost never during the school year. How could I be Valedictorian, otherwise? Seriously. It's really just a once-in-a-blue-moon thing on a rare weekend when the 'rents are away. And just a *little* bit. I'm not a stoner, I promise."

"OK," I said, smiling slightly, "just a little. But you'll have to teach me. I've never done one of these things before."

Moira smiled. She hadn't pressured me into it, but it did seem like maybe I'd just passed a little test.

"Sure, babe, I'll teach you. I figured that's part of what this date is about!"

And then as I watched her she raised her eyebrows and got one of her comic faux-horny looks. I cracked up.

"You're laughing now, but just wait until!—OK, let me back up: This, my friend, is a water bong. In spite of my messy room, I want to promise you that this bong was completely cleaned and sterilized just today. As you see, it's got this glass bulb—isn't that light blue pretty?—with pure filtered water in it—and I even added several ice cubes earlier, but they've all melted—and then it's got this container that I've already loaded up with a bit of the Maui-Wowie."

First, her bong—like almost everything else about her—seemed fancy and expensive. I have little experience with such things to this day, but it looked like a hand-crafted thing with a high price-tag.

Second, I couldn't believe she'd just left it out in her room. But as sometimes happened, Moira seemed to be almost reading my mind, which was a little weird at times:

"Oh, don't worry, David. I never leave it out. Never. Well, just this once. I knew you were coming over and got it out especially. It's only been there for an hour, and I know I probably shouldn't have done that. As soon as we have a little toke, I'm going to wash it, and then hide it in my special hiding place immediately. And then we'll open the windows and turn on the fan in the bathroom so that the smoke goes away. It will. Really."

"OK," I said, a little weakly.

"Here," she said, smiling warmly as if at a kid to calm me down, "Let me show you: You just take the lighter."

And then she picked up from the side table an expensive-looking lighter with an "MJR" monogram engraved in it, and then sat down on her bed next to me. In fact, touching me. I could feel her warmth, which felt lovely.

"You just put your mouth here, and then while your lighter is on you suck in gently. The cold water cools and mellows the smoke. Watch!"

And then she expertly lit the Maui-Wowie, and sucked in what looked like a good amount of smoke, which I could see vanishing into her open mouth.

When she was done, she held in the smoke and talked in a funny way: "See? Nothing to it!"

After holding it several seconds seconds, she blew it out. I instantly recognized the pot smell from times I'd passed stoners in the park.

"You ready?" Moira said.

"What does it do?" I asked.

"Oh, not that much, especially with the little bit that we're doing. Just mellows you out. Makes you a bit hungry. Makes you laugh a little more. And it's fun with sex."

I couldn't help but smile in a nervous, but at the same time awe-struck way as I looked at her.

"I thought that one might get you," Moira smiled in a genuinely amused way, "You suddenly looked like a kid in a candy store. You really like me, huh?"

Moira looked pleased. Her eyes were already starting to look a little different. A little dreamy and stoner-ish.

"Here. Let me light it for you. Just suck it in and hold in the smoke for a little while. And...now!"

I put my mouth to the opening and sucked in slowly, while Moira lit the rest of the Maui-Wowie. I could feel the smoke going into me, but it was cool and mellow, like she said.

When my lungs were full I stopped, holding it in for several seconds. But not being used to even mellow smoke, which I'm not to this day, I then coughed a little and the smoke came out.

"That's fine," Moira said kindly, smiling. "That's probably enough for a first-timer. Let me put this away."

And then Moira efficiently walked into her bathroom, turned on the light and the fan, and immediately started washing the thing out in her sink. She dried it with a towel with equal efficiency, and then walked to her dresser, opened the the large bottom drawer, moved some clothes aside, and then put the thing in a cardboard shoe box. She wrapped it up in the piles of fancy paper inside, and then shoved it way in the back, moving some clothes in front of it.

Closing the drawer, she walked over the her windows and opened them, and I could soon feel the evening breeze start to blow away the smoke. I enjoyed how Moira moved, so confidently and gracefully, as well as the elegance of her clothes. I liked even the messiness of her room, because it showed Moira wasn't perfect. She was an amazing human being, but flawed like the rest of us.

When she was done with all that, she came back over to the bed, took off her shoes, and sat down, turning toward me. I turned toward her and smiled.

"How are you feeling?" She said, studying my face and echoing my smile.

"Fine," I said. She was so close to me that again I could feel her warmth. I was looking right into her eyes in a way that I never had before.

"Moira, you have beautiful eyes," I said with wonder.

"Why thank you, David," she said, looking like she was trying to keep from laughing, "What do you like about them?' And she fluttered her pretty eyelashes a few times—which looked amazing.

I laughed a little, and then said:

"Well, it not just the beautiful colors—the liquid brown with the little tiny bits of yellow, it's that I can see your sense of humor in your eyes. I could even see the laugh in them that you didn't let out."

And now she did laugh, and I joined her.

"Thanks, David," Moira said.

And then she studied me some more in a curious way as she saw that I was still looking at her beautiful face, as if seeing it for the first time.

"Go on," Moira said, encouragingly.

"Your lips are really beautiful too, but they look so different with this lipstick on..."

I suddenly added: "Oh my god: I'm stoned, aren't I?"

"Yes," Moira said, "But it's OK, babe. You were saying about my lips. Would you like to kiss them?"

"Yes!" I said with genuine enthusiasm and wonder. I could feel in the core of my being that it would be good to kiss Moira.

She laughed, and I laughed too.

"OK then," she said.

And she angled her face up so we could kiss, somehow simultaneously moving my hands to her slender and warm waist.

We kissed again and our sweet tongues gently met, and it was the most sensual and natural kiss I'd had in my young life, easily topping our other kisses. It went on quite some time.

Finally we separated, both a little breathless, and each looking into each other's eyes somehow boldly and shyly at the same time.

"Didn't know...you...had it in you...David," Moira said, almost panting from the kiss. She looked actually horny now rather than faux horny.

But I was already studying her silky black blouse through which I could feel her warmth.

"This fabric feels so soft."

Unselfconsciously, I gently traced with the back of my right index finger slowly up from her belly to the start of the swell of her left breast.

"Sorry," I said, stopping as I realized I was about to trace up to her small nipple that was peeking through the sheer fabric.

"You can keep going," Moira said, still looking turned on, "but I get the same privilege."

With that she reached up her hand and firmly cupped and then squeezed my right peck through my paisley shirt.

"Mmmm," She said, "Have you been working out?"

"Swimming," I said, feeling a little surprised that she seemed as interested in my chest as I seemed in hers.

"Look what I found!" she added as she rubbed back and forth across my nipple through the shirt, making it hard.

"That tickles!" I said, laughing.

"I know. You try."

I rubbed up and then gently cupped her almost pointy breast through the thin fabric. It was very clear now she did not have a bra on. What a beautiful and amazing shape her breast was! And then I traced around her nipple slowly, and I could see it getting a little bigger through the fabric.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

I must have looked like I thought the cops were at the door—for the pot, or for me feeling up the unattainable Moira Roth's boob.

"It's just the food," Moira said, laughing a little, and then firmly squeezed my hand that was still on top of her boob, which made me squeeze her breast much more firmly than I had myself.

"I'll be right back. Can you remember where you were?"

I nodded, smiling.

"Good!" She said and strode off, grabbing her purse from the back of her desk chair as she left.

I could hear her talking to the delivery guy for longer than it would take to just pay, but in a few minutes she was back.

"Sorry about that," she said, smiling and holding the bag of Indian food, "The delivery guy has kind of a thing for me."

Looking at lovely Moira, I suddenly felt quite viscerally that a lot of guys, and women too, would have a thing for her.

I couldn't stop myself, and said, as she unpacked the delicious-smelling little boxes and put on them on her bedside table, "A lot of people have a thing for you, don't they."

It was a statement, not a question, and she answered in kind.

"Yeah," she said, smiling and admitting it, "Some days I almost have to fight them off."

"I know why you're doing this date with me," I said, still serious.

Moira turned and looked at me, sensing my suddenly altered mood: "Yeah?"

She looked a little worried.

"You're trying to protect Anna."

"Oh David," she said, and paused. Then she added, thoughtfully, "I admit that's part of it. I think Anna's attracted to you, and I can tell you think she's the bees knees." Moira had this weird way of talking sometimes that was like really old movies, which from some posters in her room it was clear she was a fan of.

"And I get it," she went on, "Anna is very hot. I'm only part lezzie, and even I want to jump her bones—so I can just imagine how you feel. But the two of you doing something, obviously, is not a good idea. In fact, it might be a disaster on top of an already difficult situation."

"But honestly, I wouldn't be here kissing you, sharing my precious Maui-Wowie, and letting you feel me up If I didn't like you. I do like you. And the more we make out, so far the more I like you. It may not be entirely fair, but in case you haven't noticed: life isn't fair."

"Yeah," I said, feeling the truth of that the last few weeks somehow more than I usually did.

"All those years that we had classes together, did you think you were ever going to feel my boobs?"

"Never," I admitted, smiling.

"Did you ever want to?"

"Maybe a few times," I admitted shyly.

"So, I'd say you're pretty lucky right now."

"Yeah," I said, closing my eyes as the food smells drifted my way. Suddenly I didn't care about any of this. I really wanted to eat.

"Don't you just want to eat Indian right now more than you ever have in your life?" Moira said, reading my mind again.

"Yeah!" I said, opening my eyes and looking at the boxes in an almost horny way, "Where are the plates?"

"We don't need any," Moira said, adding: "Let's just feed each other with our fingers."

"OK," I said, thinking this sounded weird but interesting, but even in my stoned state adding, "Let's wash our hands!"

"Good idea," Moira said, and we got up together and walked into the bathroom.

Her bathroom was huge, almost like the size of a small bedroom, with the large jacuzzi tub I saw earlier, and a long marble-topped double sink.

I walked to the sink closer to the toilet, trying to be gentlemanly and give her the one nearer to her.

But as I turned on the water, got some soap from a dispenser, and started washing my hands, she walked past me to the toilet and said,

"Just stay right there! I need to pee."

I couldn't help myself from looking over as she somehow lifted up her skirt, pulled down her underwear to her knees and sat down on the toilet, almost all at the same time.

It was all so fast I just stood there with soap on my hands, staring

Moira smiled up at me, and after a few seconds I heard her pee start flowing. I couldn't see anything, because everything was hidden by her black skirt, but she seemed clearly to enjoy me watching her, looking halfway shocked and halfway turned on.