Rob's mother leaned out of the kitchen, a plate of cheese and crackers in one hand, and waved to grab his attention. "Since you're of legal age now, can you bring up another two or three bottles of wine?"
Rob smiled ruefully. "Mom, I've been old enough to carry them for a while."
She smiled. "Yes, well. We still need more."
Rob rolled his eyes and descended into the basement of their townhouse. The wine fridge was still running, one of the vital appliances that hadn't yet been boxed up and shipped to the new house. He picked out three bottles and brought them back up to the party.
His mother looked at the bottles and raised her eyebrows. "The '96, huh? You know you don't have to always go for the older stuff."
Rob shrugged and started to respond, but his mother was already rushing off to pour wine for one of her dozens of guests. So instead he wandered through the party, watching his parents' friends drinking and dancing and letting their collars down as far as they dared. He passed on the wine, more out of a desire not to fit in than anything else. He would miss the house, but this celebration had little to do with his own fond memories.
"Hey you."
He turned and smiled. Zoey West was standing in the entryway, a travel bag slung over her shoulder. She was almost as tall as Rob, athletic and slender, with short blonde hair that refused to behave itself. Despite the fact that Rob's parents refused to believe in anything less than semi-formal, Zoey wore a ragged Depeche Mode t-shirt and jeans. Rob reached out and hugged her, then gestured to the nearby couch. She flopped down on it.
"Thanks," she said, settling in.
"You just get back?"
She nodded. "Trip to Quebec City, and a feature about it. Interesting, but I didn't want to miss this."
"Yeah," he deadpanned, "my parents would've been really broken up about not seeing you one last time."
She smirked. "Brat."
"But how was the trip?"
"Nice. I went to a few fancy restaurants, and a few historical sites. Our continent still doesn't go back that far but we do still have some cool stories. Like, the governor once had a potential enemy show up in the bay. He fooled them into not invading by making everyone in the town carry two torches. Made the town look better defended than it was."
"Clever," Rob said. "And it's very Canadian, to politely decline an invasion."
"Exactly. No one's feelings were hurt. But how about you? How was your semester?"
"Good," he said. "Looking forward to senior year."
"O-chem went well?"
He nodded. "O chem, my chem. It went well. Not perfect but well. Did you ever take chemistry?"
She shook her head, her expression overly serious. "They didn't have that when I went to college. It was just alchemy and witchcraft."
He narrowed his eyes. "You are only nine years older than me and I know it."
She smiled. "And how about Alice? Did you ever patch things up?"
He shook his head, but before he could go on, his mother entered the room. "Rob, I could really use your help," she said, before noticing Zoey. "Miss West! I didn't think you were going to make it."
Zoey glanced at Rob. "Wouldn't miss it."
"Well, I'm sure we'll miss your stories. Rob, I'd love it if you could run out and get some more fruit. Your father went but I don't think he'll bring enough." She smiled, then stepped out before he could reply.
He sighed, and turned to Zoey. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know why my mom took such a dislike to you."
"Yes, you do," Zoey said.
Rob sighed. "Okay, yeah. You're weird and you listen to me, and she worries that I'll be weird and listen to you. But, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Zoey said. She reached out, took his hand, and held it. "You know, I have some fruit in my house. We could walk over and get it if you want."
"Sure," Rob said.
They stood, and squeezed their way out of the party. Zoey keeping her grip on Rob's hand. He wasn't used to that kind of contact with her, but it felt natural.
She smiled at him as they stepped out the door and began crossing the yard. "I'm sorry it didn't work out with Alice. It's her loss."
"We just wanted different things," he said. "I..." he hesitated, blushing a bit, "I want to have kids someday and she doesn't. I know we're not there yet but there's no way around that."
Zoey squeezed his hand. "It's a tough thing, but it's good that you know yourself that well." She glanced back at Rob's door and saw no one.
"If we're being honest, and I think we should, I'm also a little bit glad that you don't have a girlfriend tonight. It's a going-away party. You should be able to have a fling if you want to. Meet a nice girl and sneak away with her."
He raised an eyebrow, and tried to read her expression in the orange glow of her porch light. "Miss West, if I didn't know better I'd say you were flirting with me."
She smiled, and leaned past him to unlock the door. She pushed it open, then turned and held him, the same hug she'd given him before but with a new intensity to it. She leaned in close and whispered into his ear.
"You don't know any better."
Leading him inside, she closed the door and locked it behind her. Then, she turned and wrapped her arms around him. Her chest pressed so tightly against his that he felt her hardened nipples through her t-shirt. Her mouth drew ever closer to his.
Rob's heart raced. He closed his eyes and felt her lips, warm and wet, pressing against his. She moved gently but with purpose, exploring his body with her hands and moving with him, as though they were dancing.
He responded in kind. His tongue moved out to meet hers, as his arms closed behind her to pull her closer. She welcomed him, her body pressed tightly against his, her breathing coming in gasps between kisses. She rubbed her hips against his. He felt his body responding, his cock beginning to grow hard, and he pulled back, unsure if she wanted to feel it.
She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Listen," she said. "I know I'm being pushy, and besides that, I'm older, and besides that men are socialized not to say no. So if you don't want this-"
He pulled her back. He put his hands behind her head, pulling her in tight, his kisses almost desperate in their intensity. "Zoey," he said, between kisses. "I want you."
"Then don't hold back," she said. She grabbed him, her hands on his ass, and pulled him close. His stiffening cock rubbed against her through their pants, and he moaned into her kiss.
"Yes," she said. "Did I ever give you a tour of my place?"
He shook his head. "I want to see everything."
"Let's start with the bedroom."