I'm Straight, I Know I Am!

(Ok, not a very sexy start, but this is my first time writing this, and it is the beginning of a Saga, if you like it. So, feedback is not only appreciated, but necessary)

Hi there. My name is Monaco, and I’d like to tell you about an experience that I had last summer while I was in New York. First, let me describe myself. I’m about 5’5”, 105 lb., blonde hair, blue eyes, 34B size breasts, so on, and so on.

Anyway, my friend Kate (I’ll describe her in a sec.) and I had just graduated High School and decided to do something just for us before she left for collage. So, we decided to take a trip to NYC and forget who we were. Me more then her. See, I had been dating this guy, who was about 3 years older then me, and although I truly did love him (and we are still together) I felt like I wanted to flirt around and not feel guilty about it.

Alright, now to tell you about Kate. She is about 5’6”, black hair, 34B size breasts (and yes, we are always sharing bras), dark eyes, can’t really say what color as they are always changing shades. All through high school, Kate had a string of off again, on again relationships. She wasn’t slutty, but she did get her fair share of attention.

So, after landing at JFK, we hopped in a taxi and headed for our hotel. We got a really good deal at the Double Tree in Midtown, which was great, because that meant that we would never be too far from any clubs that we would go to. We got checked in, headed up to our rooms, and unpacked. Kate, who had slept almost the entire flight, was bounding with energy, and started to take a shower in anticipation of us going out. I, on the other hand, was falling asleep on my feet, and actually did fall asleep while Kate showered. I didn’t hear her come back into the room, but I sure as hell heard the moaning concert she, and whoever it was she brought back, were putting on.

“Damn,” I thought, “Not more than six hours here, and already she was soiling the sheets.” I drifted off when the chorus of whimpering subsided, which only took like ten minutes.

The next morning (or was it the same?) the faceless grunt was nowhere to be found. Kate was snoring, which I learned long ago was a sign that she was satisfied and sleeping soundly. I didn’t want to wake her, so I put on the bare minimum of clothing, and headed down to take advantage of some bagels and coffee. Half way through the NY Post my cell went off.

“Hello?”

“Monaco? Where are you?” asked a groggy sounding Kate.

“Downstairs. I figured you were in need of some rest after such an exhausting night”

“Oh, fuck you”

“Well, it is my turn” I quipped back.

“Ugh, I need a shower, you gonna be there for awhile?”

“Yeah, come down when your alive again”

“Ok, bye”

“Bye”

I sat there for about 45 minutes waiting for Kate, and was about to call her to see if she was still alive. Then, clad in sunglasses, she rounded the corner.

“Hey there sunshine,” I said mockingly.

“Are you gonna give me a cig or what?” she replied.

“For someone who slept as well as you did, you sure are bitchy this morning.”

“Yeah, well, I don't even remember what the hell happened, so that one doesn’t count, K?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, what are we doing today?”

We decided to do the touristy thing, and hit all the museums. We figured that since it was a nice day, we could just walk through the park if we got tired of the art. So, off we went, and what a good choice it was. After about an hour, Kate started to feel really queasy, and almost yacked all over an Egyptian exhibit. We decided that she needed rest, and headed back to the hotel.

Once she was settled in, I decided that I would take advantage of the Internet Cafe I saw on 42nd St and check my e-mail. I got some coffee, and got on-line to find an e-mail form my boy, saying that he loved me, missed me, and to not get into any trouble. I wrote him back telling him to enjoy the alone time while he has it. The rest of my mail was junk, so I decided to hop on to the local guide to try and find a few spots for Kate and I to hit this evening.

I came across this one listing for a club called Lime Light. Now, if you’ve never been to this club, then let me warn you, you must be VERY, very open minded to the stuff that goes on in there.

Kate and I got dressed for the evening, and headed out. We got to Lime Light, and stayed for a total of one hour. When the “body art” started (which consisted of hanging people from their body piercing) we said, “we’re outta here.” But not before we got the skinny on a couple of places that we should check out, according to some locals.

The next place that we hit was a place called Cheeta’s. We had both hear of it, due to some rather scandlist activity relating to some music icons. When we got there, we were both amazed at the diversity of the crowed. Upstairs is the “Techno” group, all high on E, and downstairs was the Hip Hop group, acting all larger then life.

We opted for the “Techno” crowed, and started to dance and mingle to the house beat.

Kate and I decided that even though she was “technically” ahead of me, that tonight we should just have fun. That being the case, we moved into our ”lesbian routine.” This consisted of us dancing apart most of the time, selecting guys to tease, and relying on each other when unwanted advances came. Anytime a guy was not welcome, the other would immediately step in with a hug, light caress, and sometimes a kiss. Just enough for the guy to get the point.

However, we soon found that this was a non factor in the current situation. Most of the guys seemed to not even recognize our existence. The ones who did, didn’t even really try anything. So, after awhile, we got tired of dancing alone, and started to naturally grove with each other. Then, I had to pee, and Kate said that she’d wait for me at the bar.

As I wiped myself, I straitened my out fit and exited the stall. Looking into the mirror, I noticed a woman looking at me as she entered the stall. I thought nothing of it, chocking it up to “sizing me up” and left.

I found Kate at the bar, drink ready, and we started talking about whether or not to stay. Just then, a woman approached us and said,

“My god, I thought the two of you were glued to on another. I felt I had to wait for that one (me) to return to begin a conversation.”

We looked at each other and giggled, although, for some reason, it made me feel funny, the way she said it.

Then, to my surprise, or horror, the woman who had been “checking me out” in the bathroom approached. She greeted the other woman by slipping her hand around her waist.

“Hey you,” she said, “who are you chatting with?”

“Chatting?” She replied. “Well, I wouldn’t really call in chatting, seeing as they haven’t even said anything yet.”

I wanted to hide away, but Kate took the initiative and extended her hand,

“”Hi there, I’m Kate, and this is my friend Monaco.”

Kate sort of pissed me off there. She thrust me at this woman whom I had caught gaucking at me.

“Hello.” Was all I could muster.

“Monaco? Hi, I’m Sophia.”

She said it with a smile that for whatever reason, captivated me.

“So, “ the other one said, “ how long have you two been together?”

That took me by complete surprise. “Together?” I thought. But my mind was drowned out by Kate saying,

“About 10 years.”

Which was true, in the platonic, friendship basis. But I’m not sure that that is what she meant. Again, before I could even begin to form a thought, Kate spoke.

“What about you two? A couple?”

“Former,” Sophia said.

“Sooooo very former.” The other woman said, and both started to giggle a little.

That’s when I just about lost it and spoke up.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “But I never got your name.”

“Oh my god,” she responded, “I’m sorry. My name is Linda, and this is Sophia.”

“Your soooo veeeery former partner, right?” Kate chimed in.

“We always preferred the term lovers.” Sophia added.

Finally getting into the conversation I asked, “Why’s that?”

Linda started telling us the story of how Sophia was the first woman that she had slept with. They had met at a club that both of their current boyfriends at the time had brought them to. As the night went along, it seemed that they would always end up in the same place at the same time. The dance floor, the bar, the bathroom, they even tried to plan not to “bump” into each other for the rest of the night. Not more than five minutes later, there they were, dancing back to back. Their boyfriends, not knowing what has been happening all night, got a kick outta watching the two beauties dancing so close (ugh...men). Anyway, they both started to try and get Linda and Sophia actually dancing together. Since Sophia had done this sort of thing before, she started to go along with it, and tried to help Linda, whom she could obviously see hadn’t done this before, get into it as well.

And get into it she did. After a while of dancing, the guys went to the bar to get some more drinks. That’s when it happened. Linda grabbed Sophia and tugged her to a dark little corner, threw her down on the bean bag there, and assaulted her mouth.

Neither of them remembers how long they stayed there before deciding to go to Sophia’s. But both them do remember having to turn off the cell phones, because their boys would keep calling to find out what had happened to them.

The next day, the both broke up with their boys, moved in together, and started a 3 year relationship.

“So why’d you break up?” I asked, completely engrossed in the story.

“We just realized that we weren’t “actually in-love” with each other. Sophia said. Lust...ALWAYS...but not love.”

Just then, the DJ’s switched, and so did the music. It got really fun, and VERY danceable. And then, bang!

“Hey you two, let’s dance!” Linda said hopping off her bar stool.

I had absolutely no time to react. Kate had grabbed my hand and was almost tearing my arm out of it’s socket as she dragged me to the dance floor. Once there, we started getting down and dirty. And I was going along with everything, probably just out of habit.

Then the music shifted yet again, and got really groovy and trance like. You could almost call it the club equivalent of slow dancing.

Kate, in a rare moment of lucidity, decided to dance with me, ‘cause she (at least claims) could tell that I was feeling a little weird about all this. We went back to our “lesbian routine,” except that this time, the touching seemed to last longer, and the movements seemed to be more fluid.

“You two wanna switch?” Linda said out of no where.

To be continued...