arrived at Calhoun Square and parked in the ramp. Moira turned the car off and turned to face me, her hand reaching out to rest on my arm. "Pamela?" She paused. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Are you wondering how much flirting I can tolerate?"
"Yes."
"Keep it tasteful and I will tell you if it's too much." I paused. "I'll flirt back, but Moira. It's just flirting. I am here with you to have a nice time." I paused. "Will you tell me if I am disappointing you?"
"With what you just said, I won't be disappointed, Pamela." She looked down at her hand caressing my arm. "This is really all right?"
"Yes. It's nice. I'll be disappointed if you stop."
Her smile grew and she nodded.
We climbed out of the car together and met at the back. She took my arm, and we held hands as we walked through the parking lot. She released me at the doors to the mall so that she could hold doors for me, then took my hand again once inside the mall.
"Dinner is here?"
"I hope you like French cooking."
"I do. I like most foods."
There was a table waiting for us at a nice French restaurant. The restaurant was upscale, with cloth tablecloths and linens. Moira held my chair for me. She sat to my left.
As soon as we were both seated, she had her hand on my arm, her fingers still, just barely touching me. We smiled briefly.
"How do you feel about sharing?" she asked me.
"It depends," I said. "On whether I like whatever you order."
She smiled. We agreed on two dishes, and we each ordered tea.
Moira was an excellent conversationalist, deftly steering our conversation between topics. She asked me about my job, complemented me on my appearance, and thanked me again for volunteering myself for the auction.
"Will you do it again?" she asked.
I laughed. "I haven't finished my involvement for this time, and you're asking about next year." I paused. "Somehow I don't think I'd be quite the novelty next year."
She smiled. "You might not achieve quite the success you did this year, but you would still do well." She stroked my arm while staring into my eyes. It was very pleasant, and I closed my own eyes, enjoying the attention.
"You like this?" she asked, continuing to stroke my arm.
I nodded my head slightly.
We sat quietly, my eyes closed, while Moira lightly stroked my arm. I wasn't used to this, not at all. She turned my hand over and extended her touch into the palm of my hand, running the ball of two fingers up and down my arm and into my hand.
Finally I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was staring at me intently. I looked between her eyes and her hand. She was making me tingly. I squirmed a little.
"Too much?" She asked. "Do I need to stop?"
"No." I paused. "No one has ever done that to me before."
"Seriously?"
"Will you sit on my other side later?" I asked with a grin.
She laughed lightly. "Yes."
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the touching. "Am I being greedy?"
"No. I would do this all night if you let me."
I squirmed again and opened my eyes. "I'm sure the arm would become over stimulated."
"I will just have to vary my touches then."
We sat quietly after that. Our food arrived, and I was deeply disappointed when Moira stopped touching me to serve us. She caught my sigh.
"Was that a request for more later?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you're straight?" she asked.
I smiled. "Is that a question on the form?"
"What form?"
"The one you send in to claim your toaster oven."
She laughed loudly. "Are you telling me I'm going to win a toaster oven?"
"No, but if everything you do feels as nice as that did, maybe you'll win a toaster. Or at least some toast."
She laughed again.
I was disappointed she couldn't eat left-handed so she could continue to caress me. She asked me more about my job. I answered somewhat perfunctorily.
"Bad topic?"
"Not really. I'm good at my job, but most days it feels like I'm little more than a clerk. It's a good job, and it's important. I just feel like I landed in the wrong spot."
"Maybe a fresh
"Are you wondering how much flirting I can tolerate?"
"Yes."
"Keep it tasteful and I will tell you if it's too much." I paused. "I'll flirt back, but Moira. It's just flirting. I am here with you to have a nice time." I paused. "Will you tell me if I am disappointing you?"
"With what you just said, I won't be disappointed, Pamela." She looked down at her hand caressing my arm. "This is really all right?"
"Yes. It's nice. I'll be disappointed if you stop."
Her smile grew and she nodded.
We climbed out of the car together and met at the back. She took my arm, and we held hands as we walked through the parking lot. She released me at the doors to the mall so that she could hold doors for me, then took my hand again once inside the mall.
"Dinner is here?"
"I hope you like French cooking."
"I do. I like most foods."
There was a table waiting for us at a nice French restaurant. The restaurant was upscale, with cloth tablecloths and linens. Moira held my chair for me. She sat to my left.
As soon as we were both seated, she had her hand on my arm, her fingers still, just barely touching me. We smiled briefly.
"How do you feel about sharing?" she asked me.
"It depends," I said. "On whether I like whatever you order."
She smiled. We agreed on two dishes, and we each ordered tea.
Moira was an excellent conversationalist, deftly steering our conversation between topics. She asked me about my job, complemented me on my appearance, and thanked me again for volunteering myself for the auction.
"Will you do it again?" she asked.
I laughed. "I haven't finished my involvement for this time, and you're asking about next year." I paused. "Somehow I don't think I'd be quite the novelty next year."
She smiled. "You might not achieve quite the success you did this year, but you would still do well." She stroked my arm while staring into my eyes. It was very pleasant, and I closed my own eyes, enjoying the attention.
"You like this?" she asked, continuing to stroke my arm.
I nodded my head slightly.
We sat quietly, my eyes closed, while Moira lightly stroked my arm. I wasn't used to this, not at all. She turned my hand over and extended her touch into the palm of my hand, running the ball of two fingers up and down my arm and into my hand.
Finally I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was staring at me intently. I looked between her eyes and her hand. She was making me tingly. I squirmed a little.
"Too much?" She asked. "Do I need to stop?"
"No." I paused. "No one has ever done that to me before."
"Seriously?"
"Will you sit on my other side later?" I asked with a grin.
She laughed lightly. "Yes."
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the touching. "Am I being greedy?"
"No. I would do this all night if you let me."
I squirmed again and opened my eyes. "I'm sure the arm would become over stimulated."
"I will just have to vary my touches then."
We sat quietly after that. Our food arrived, and I was deeply disappointed when Moira stopped touching me to serve us. She caught my sigh.
"Was that a request for more later?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you're straight?" she asked.
I smiled. "Is that a question on the form?"
"What form?"
"The one you send in to claim your toaster oven."
She laughed loudly. "Are you telling me I'm going to win a toaster oven?"
"No, but if everything you do feels as nice as that did, maybe you'll win a toaster. Or at least some toast."
She laughed again.
I was disappointed she couldn't eat left-handed so she could continue to caress me. She asked me more about my job. I answered somewhat perfunctorily.
"Bad topic?"
"Not really. I'm good at my job, but most days it feels like I'm little more than a clerk. It's a good job, and it's important. I just feel like I landed in the wrong spot."
"Maybe a fresh
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