Drunk Blogging: Girls girls girls

I do try not to do it whilst inebriated, but with a delicious bottle of Merlot currently ruling my head, it is pretty hard to keep my fingers from straying... onto the keyboard. Plus, I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some Blogroll-stealing-arsehole fuck with me, and prevent me from venting when I need to, so here goes...

I'm out tonight getting merry with my friend K. The bar we are in is full of people celebrating Christmas parties; we're just relaxing and lounging back in the booths. All is well, we're catching up on life, and my mind is not (totally) preoccupied with sex. But at some point I need to go to the toilet, so off I wander. And to my surprise upon entering said loo, a sweet looking blonde girl approaches me. Now given some of my history with women in toilets I can be forgiven for jumping to conclusions, but in this case I protest my innocence: I fully expected her to ask me if I have any tampons. Instead, she says to me:

"Are you looking for a friend?"

I am truly confused and ask her to repeat the question. She says again whispering, conspiratorially,

"Are you looking for a friend?"

and grins at me widely. And I wonder to myself, 'is she offering me her 'services''? Doubtful, I feign ignorance, and ask her again to repeat herself. She motions towards one of the cubicles and says,

"There's a girl in there, are you looking for a friend?"

and grins at me again. And now I am thinking to myself, 'Oh my god, is she pimping someone else?!' And I respond with a resounding

"No!"

and act shocked and a little disgusted. She then says quietly, pointing at the closed cubicle,

"Oh. There's a girl in there crying, I wondered if she was your friend, I didn't know what to say to her, I hope she's ok."

I mutter something unintelligible and scarper off into a closed cubicle of my own, hoping the toilet will swallow up some of my embarassment for being so wrong about her.

Later...

Getting more drunk by the minute, me and K are having a fab time, chatting away, people watching. We both notice this Queen dancing near our table. She is truly gorgeous: slim, curvaceous, the most beautiful arse in the world and wearing a body-hugging fitted wrap dress with no underwear (I checked, many times for a VPL, trust me). I couldn't stop staring at her arse; it was like a magnet, calling 'squeeze me, slap me', argh, too much, believe me.

Anyway, K goes off to the loo, and the Queen pounces. She comes over to me, sits next to me, puts her hand on my thigh and flicks her hair back, while she demands I come and dance with her. I flirted back gently but stayed seated. She carried on dancing and returned back to the table repeatedly over the evening offering me drinks and trying to get me to dance. And perhaps in different circumstances I would have followed it up - even though she was most definitely straight (like me), she would have definitely swung. I'm of the belief that most women would and do, drink from the furry cup, especially given 3.187 glasses of wine (the exact amount it takes for them to stop thinking of cock and start thinking 'mmm, I'd like to suck that girl's breasts').

Of course I know it was a missed opportunity and all that and I could possibly have got somewhere with it, but, with the period and all, plus the fact that K and I had to have some 'friends' time tonight (and I wasn't about to dump her over a possible shag), means that this particular scenario will have to play out in my mind only...

Not so for the couple that were fucking in the downstairs toilets in the bar - who were obviously living out their fantasy/horniness to the fullest, in all it's noisy glory. There are times that I love London: sometimes you get chatted up, sometimes you flirt outrageously, and sometimes you get to be the lucky fucker getting laid in the loos...