GIRL'S NIGHT OUT
Very hard to get rid of that one. Subtle, pleasant. A little vanilla. Implied
bondage. I thought about that particular tidbit quite a lot. What else could I
do? I was playing by the rules, because I didn't want to blow it. I was
looking forward to an experience well beyond the everyday scope of my existence.
The boring, mundane, 9-to-5 drill I went through five/fifty-two/twelve. I'm
still not sure how I did it. It was Thursday, the day I regularly went out with
some of the girls from work that reality hit. I had been a little bitchy that
day. I'm thirty-two, and hitting my peak if you know what I mean. I wasn't
even getting the mild relief I gave to myself. Janie, my secretary, was
practically drooling on this Yuppie banker type across the bar. At a Yuppie
bar, in a Yuppie neighborhood. Three executive women sipping white wine, and
making jokes about the lack of love in our lives. Work, work and more work.
The thing was. This guy was nothing special, and I was so frigging horny. I
would have laid him on the bar in a second flat. My whole week had been that
way. I had more sexual energy at my disposal than the Milky Way has stars. I
spent all week dripping, drenched, and thoroughly saturated. My world having an
erotic undertone with every passing fantasy I constructed in my brain. My very
out-look had changed.
Not so just everyone would notice, but some of them did. The eyes of some of the
men at work followed me in a puzzled sort of way. Liking, and repelled, by what
they sensed in me. I put on underwear that showed off my body. Make-up that
accented my hot-eyes. I attracted more attention than I ever had in my life.
The thing was, I had promised not to do anything about it.
What surprised me most was how I was looking at other women now. I had always
been a solid Kinsey three. Fantasizing about men, and women equally. I had just
never really wanted the hassles of crossing the gender line. I was to middle of
the road. I just always chose men as sex partners. It was the easier, socially
acceptable, cowards way out. It was also a personally preferred choice. Men are
hard. Harder than we are. Hard organs, hard hands in your hair. Rough palms
on your breasts. Thick fingers in your sex or your ass. It's feeling helpless
under their strength. Hairy chests, legs, and openings. Being mastered
physically, and not through the delicate intricacies of a head-trip. This new
point of view frightened, and excited me. All at the same time. Lending an air
of carnality to everything that I did. Every word I uttered. Every gesture. I
was thinking about this one concept so hard, that I missed Janie's question.
"Jesus, Annie. You've been on Mars all fucking week. Are you PMS?" I shook my
head, no. "How often do you fantasize?" They appeared eager for my response.
"All the time." Smiling sweetly. They laughed, drawing attention to our little
group. "A good orgasm, releases a lot of... tension." They really howled at
that.
"You are more like a man, than any of us." Janie said, with a giggle. They all
nodded in agreement. I asked her to explain herself. I was puzzled. She
replied. "You don't think like we do. You enjoy watching us, and you enjoy our
company. However, a lot of what we, as women do, puzzles you." True, but I
remained quiet, listening intently. "You take less shit than most of the guys
we work for, yet seem to be more of a woman than they could handle." Lydia
twittered, adding jokingly.
"You scare the hell out of them, Annie!" We all laughed, even me. I was
thinking about it, though. We had laughter, friendship. Yet I was as much of
an outsider here as anywhere else. It was disconcerting. We quipped, blew off
a couple of the bolder men daring to approach our little Bitch group. We had
the same kind of generic good time that we always had. About as satisfying as a
meal at Denny's on Christmas Eve. I went home that night to my sterile little
world, and thought about what they had said for most of the night. I could see
what they were saying about me, but why would they suddenly say it now? What
was different about me? Why would I scare anyone?
