We were sitting at a glossy-topped, faux mahogany table in a local bar and grill, as was standard for our Girl's Night Out. We ate, we drank, and us single vixens made eyes at the clientele that came and went as we gabbed enthusiasticly into the night. Our married Megan were tamer, though not by much: Meg was known to have a phone number or two more to show than the rest of us at the end of the night. David would be so proud.
"And that was that," Carolyn giggled.
I snapped back to reality and realized that I hadn't even heard her story. So much so, I wasn't even sure what it had been about. Everyone was laughing, so I laughed, still not understanding
why
.
Melissa, our resident storyteller and illegally young male magnet, cleared her throat and smiled her debutante's smirk. Her grin widened as she spoke. "What about sex?"
"What about it?" Gwen quipped.
"Well," Melissa elaborated, "what about your best sexual exploit? I know mine and I'm willing to share." As she spoke, she shimmied in her chair with so much enthusiasm, part of me thought she'd dish her dirt right then and there. But Melissa had a tact for great build-up; she made you long for the story, want the story.
"All I can say is banana boy," Megan laughed.
We laughed with her, knowing that her reference was to a college fling with a banana-shaped you-know-what. The poor man that had inspired the tale- I believe his name had been Matthew- would never live down the heralding stories that Megan dished about his uniquely designed equipment. Thankfully, her husband seemed to be created to her liking, and we were rarely subject to tales of his genitalia.
"Count me out," Vanessa sighed. She was the youngest of us, barely twenty-five years old and still in (graduate) school. She was also a virgin.
"Oh, come on, Ness," Gwen chided. "We
know
you have some dirt to dish."
Carolyn followed this up with a quip that brought guffaws from the girls and our waitress.
Vanessa looked amused, but there was still an air of discomfort.
"Alright, I'll start," Gwen offered. "My best exploit was a casual fling I had one summer."
"Ooooooo," Megan chided. "I've never heard
this
one before."
"Are you going to shut up and let me tell it?"
That caused us all to giggle. We were comfortable with each other, and though we often teased and coaxed one another where men were involved, we rarely had in-depth conversations about the end product of our laisons. Tonight was new frontier, and we were about to embark on our journey with open minds....and ears.
"It was the summer between sophomore and junior year, and I was...How old was I?"
We laughed with Gwen. We laughed at Gwen.
"Anyhow, I got dragged to this bar by my roomie to see some band that her boyfriend was in at the time. Of course, the asshole left her a week later without a reason or a phone call, but that's men, right?" She sighed. "I thought it was going to be some degenerated hellhole, with a puney stage and some forty year-old men trying to relive their glory days through their music. I was so wrong."
Her smirk expanded, and if you knew Gwen, you knew that meant she had something
good
to say. "They were a rock band, easily much younger than Jessica and I, and the singer was pierced in just about every place imaginable. He looked
dirty
."
Megan snorted, but I laughed. Knowing Gwen for as many years as I had, I knew that "dirty" to her was a deliciously wonderful thing to be. It didn't mean he was unwashed, it meant he was kinky- and Gwen
loved
kinky.
"His name was DJ," she continued, grinning lasciviously all the while. "He bought me a beer and we sat for a while, making small talk. Somewhere between beer number three and beer number four, shots started flowing. I totally lost track of everything, and eventually realized that Jessica and her boytoy had left me there alone with this guy."