What was I going to do with this information?
I mean, I had no idea that my girlfriend had ever fooled around on me let alone with another woman. Now I had the proof- -better than proof- -a live recording of her dalliance. A very good recording, I might add. It made me horny every time I thought of it.
But how to approach this situation? Was my girlfriend a closet lesbian? Was she bi-sexual? Was this just a one-time fling?
I don't think I would classify her as a lesbian. She's not butch, for sure. There's nothing I could have put my finger on that would have tipped me off to her liking women exclusively. And I know for a fact that she does like hetero-sex- -we've had enough of it- -and I could have told if she were faking it. Her physical responses to my ministrations and her eager joy in taking care of me can't have been faked. O.K. then, so she may be bi-sexual. What's wrong with that? Like the old saying, "Being bi-sexual doubles your chances of getting a date on a Saturday night!"
But- -does she prefer women or men? What does she like best? I suppose it is possible to like each mode of sex equally. Coming is coming no matter whose prick/dildo, tongue, lips, and/or fingers are doing the deed. Women are softer but men are stronger. Women may be more patient but men are more energetic. Women smell better but men just smell. (Well, maybe to a woman male smell is a turn-on.) Women are more passionate but men are horny. I guess there's something to be said for both sides. Then, there's the other old saying, "all women are bi". I suppose it is just in their nature to be loving, caring, comforting, and compassionate- -unless they are going through a divorce.
Was it a one time fling? Somehow, I don't think so. That tape made it look like she had more than a little experience making love to another woman. Whew! Did it! I get horny all over again just thinking about it.
Before I could consolidate my thoughts as to how to deal with this, my girlfriend got home. I had put all of the video equipment away and had cleaned myself up so there wasn't anything to tip her off that I might have been doing "anything". But I guess I seemed a little disconcerted because she asked me if anything was wrong. It was my turn to play the "headache card", usually a woman's prerogative.
"Well," She said, "Take a couple of aspirin and get cleaned up. We're going on a date!"
"Huh?" I was truly surprised. "You just got home from being out all afternoon and it is almost 8:00. You want to just pick up and go on a date? You're not tired?"
"No, not at all." Her ebullience was intriguing. "I just thought of a terrific thing to do. You'll like it too. I'm sure of it."
"O.K. I'm off to the shower." I said, unbuttoning my jeans.
She shouted from the other room, "Say, where's the camcorder?"
"I dunno." I lied, "Somewhere in the spare bedroom. You'll find it."
What in the world was going on in her little brain?
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Forty-five minutes later we were headed out the door. While I had been taking my shower and shaving, she had spruced herself up too. I had put on some nice slacks, a semi-dressy shirt, and a sweater; she put on a nice skirt and low cut top, some sexy shoes, and make-up. She looked pretty good.
I drove following her directions. We went downtown to a clubby area. I wasn't much for clubs anymore since we had been together. It isn't like we never went but we liked to save money. Anyway, tonight she had a club in mind.
We parked around the corner from her chosen destination, a place called "Chat Rose". It looked clubby alright- -and expensive.
We went in and had to pay a cover charge to do it. It was a throwback to the 70's, no question about it.
It had a Parisian motif- -pink and black- -and cat figures all over the place. "Chat Rose" in English is the "Red Cat". There were cat paintings, cat cartoons, stuffed toy cats, cat faces, cat tails and cat you-name-it all over the place. The waitresses were decked out like cats with cat make-up. The bartender had a mask on that made him look like a blushing Tom of "Tom & Jerry" fame. And, honest to god, there was a mirrored ball turning in the center of the room flashing colored lights all around- -with a cat suspended from it. The music was not live and it was in the background, loud but not deafening. What was that? It was disco! DISCO!! In the 21st century? Dude! The 70's saturated the place big-time.
We edged our way over to a table away from the bar and near the back wall. There were a couple people sitting there already. One I recognized right away. It was Ms Nice-Boobs/Butt herself, in the flesh! I knew I had to keep my composure and not let on that I had seen a tape of her and my girlfriend "en flagrante' delicto". That was going to be a hard one- -no pun intended. I could picture her luscious body underneath her clothes. I started to get a little hot.
The other person at table was a black woman, very stylish, very pretty, and very trim . But she had nice contours with smallish but shapely breasts, more pronounced because of the her dΓ©colletΓ©. As she stood up to greet us, I could also tell that she was tall. I guessed that she was at least as tall as I am- -5'9", maybe a smidge taller but, then again, she was wearing heels- -like 4" inch heels. She had a luminous smile, smooth skin, and fine features- -fashion model qualities. (Had I seen her on some magazine cover somewhere?) When she said "hello" her voice was soft, smooth, and warm. "What a beautiful woman!", I thought.
We introduced ourselves around: Ms. Nice Boobs/Butt was Laura, Ms. Fashion Model was Lurecia.(Perhaps I hadn't mentioned this before but my girlfriend's name is Jessica and I'm Marco.) Laura and Lurecia already had a head start with drinks in front of them. Jessica and I ordered up drinks for ourselves and another for each of them.
What ensued was small talk- -small talk- -small talk. The girls chatted about this movie and that, this celebrity and that, this store and that, these shoes and those, and whoever and whatever. I just observed. I was sure that they wouldn't want to hear my lame opinions on anything they were discussing and certainly wouldn't want to hear about my opinion on who was going to the playoffs or who might win the Super Bowl. All the while, I was wondering what Ms. Nice-Boobs/Butt, I mean Laura, looked like in person- -naked! Well, I was also wondering what Ms. Fashion Model, I mean Lurecia, looked like naked. (I knew what Jessica looked like naked.)
I was also beginning to wonder why Jessica had insisted in going out on the spur of the moment.
After a second round of drinks, Jessica said, "Let's head out. This is a great place but the pink and black is giving me double vision."
The other two girls agreed. I was enthusiastic. I was beginning to go into 70's overload.
Outside the club on the sidewalk the four of us talked briefly.
"Where are we headed?" I asked, hoping the girls weren't planning to go to another theme club.
"Let's go to Lurecia's place!" Jessica suggested.
"Sure, that's sounds great." Lurecia agreed "My place it is. See you there."
Laura and Lurecia headed for their car and Jessica and I for ours in the opposite direction.
"Do you know where Lurecia lives?" I questioned Jessica.
"Sure. We're friends from way back." She said.