Parking, or How to Spend a Friday Night in a Small Town
One of life's more frustrating paradoxes deal with the issue of personal space. The more you need it, the less likely you are to have it. Take me for example. Here I am home for the summer from college staying with my parents, living in the same room as when I was in High School. Not exactly the environment to have an intimate tryst, especially when you have enhanced sexual preferences. Okay, I mean when you are gay and your parents would rather not know and certainly would not support your choice of lifestyles. Well, that's not exactly true, either. My mom understands and is comfortable with it; my father does not.
Anyway, staying at home means no guests at the house. What happens when your partner doesn't have a place, either? Geez, this was a lot easier when we were younger and had not "come out" publicly. In those days, you could have a "sleepover" without raising anyone's eyes. Try that when you are a known college lesbian.
Katy was getting just as frustrated as I was. We'd had two wonderful experiences out on the boat over Independence Day and we both looked forward to having some more but the absence of a place to be alone was certainly inhibiting the whole process. We would go out for dinner and a movie, but where could we go afterwards? Motel rooms were not exactly in our budget.
Katy got into my car and I pulled away from the curb. Like me, she was dressed in light weight khaki summer shorts, a royal blue halter top, and sandals on her feet. Her dark hair was pulled back into a single ponytail at the back of her head to keep it off her neck in the heat of a Carolina summer night. We drove over to a local nightclub, parked the car, and went inside.
It was a typical Friday night at Goochi's. The manager didn't charge us a cover-charge to get in (he never charges young pretty women) and we walked past the bouncers and into the main bar area. Nodding at several folks we knew, we went over to a table near the dance floor. After ordering a drink from a passing waitress, Katy and I began to talk about the previous few days. She was overwhelmed with a desire to analyze everything, and what had passed between us on that boat was no exception. I leaned over, took her face between my hands, and pressed my lips against hers. I kissed her long and softly, then pulled back long enough to say "Stop analyzing it; don't try to understand it. Just accept it." After taking a sip from our wine coolers, we moved out on the dance floor.
Those who know me, know how much I love to dance and how much dancing can turn me on. Tonight was certainly no exception. I always assume that every eye is watching me as I dance. That focused level of attention gets my juices flowing and hips churning. Watching Katy's magnificent breasts move inside her halter top sure didn't hurt either! We would dance right up against one another, brushing our breasts together, and then back away. During one of the really slow songs, we did a slow sensual grind in time to the music. Oh it was so hot on that floor. We were both asked to dance by other women and sometimes, if the girl appealed, we would accept but we always returned to each other after just one dance.
How I wanted to get my hands on her body! Unfortunately, Goochi's is not as open minded as the bars in Myrtle Beach. Small town mentalities only stretch so far. We might have gotten a bit involved but we would have been arrested shortly afterwards. Both a city officer and a county deputy sheriff walked around inside the bar – once of the reasons the place was so safe. We would still find a moment to kiss now and then, but we were both reaching a point where we needed much more than that. Finally, we decided to leave the club and find someplace we could be alone.