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Old 07-31-2007, 12:51 AM
Wicked Wanda's Avatar
Wicked Wanda Wicked Wanda is offline
Gone with the Wind
 
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: some place new, and interesting
Posts: 862
categories... Hot moments

Honestly, I have no idea where this story, this little piece of my life, the tale and telling of my most recent misspent night, should go.
This part is about myself and a wonderful woman I met that night, but that was only the start of a most interesting 24 hours
Does it go in "lesbian", "exhibitionism", "oral", "boy/girl", or in anal?

As my night ended in a 3 sum, I guess I will put it here, in "group sex"
Otherwise different parts of this one story will end up in diferent catergories.

As it will soon become very obvious, I am including pretty much every detail I can remember, and it was a VERY long night. If you are looking for a story with a "quick payoff", sorry. This is my life I am writing about, and I am going to tell it the way I want, the way it happened to me. I will also be telling you a bit more about me than I have before. Yes, this really is what and how I think, the things I notice. This is how I judge people on dates, deciding whether or not to trust them.

Yes I have changed minor details for personal reasons, and don't bother asking what and why. (It's personal!)




I admit while dressing to go out last night, the "hottest moment" thread was very much on my mind. I wanted a tale to tell, so I dressed accordingly.
My favorite, oh so carefully tailored, emerald green silk halter, my new black miniskirt, slit high over the front of the left thigh all the way to "there", and to set off my legs, black thigh highs and black heels. (Yes, I know, but sometimes I have to ignore my dislike of high heels and wear them anyway, especially when I want to feel sexy in a special way.)
Add a faux emerald pendant dangling between my breasts, matching studs for each ear. No rings, wristwatch or bracelets. Add my cellphone, ID, Visa, some cash, and I was ready.

I called a cab, as I was soon going to be to far above the legal limit to drive myself.
When I descended the front stairs in response to the cab's honk, the driver looked at me, jumped out of his cab to ran around and hold my door for me. (I always get good service from the straight ones when I dress this way.) The driver got a good flash of thigh, including the skin above the upper edge of my hose, when I slid onto the leather of the back seat. The skirt was new, (Dillard's, $64.58 on sale) and looked pretty hot on me, if I do say so.
Hemmed well above the knee, loose in the hips, very danceable. I admit the slit was a dare even for me. The edges overlapped so while standing still it wasn't evident. But when walking, or better, when dancing, I displayed pretty much all of the inside of my left thigh from hip to hem. It made me feel sexy(er).
I smoothed my skirt and sat, waiting. The cabbie stood there for a minute, then blushed and closed the door. Jumping into the front, he cleared his throat, asked my destination. I gave him an intersection in the club district, about a block from the Woman's bar that was my actual destination. I didn't want to ruin his fantasies about me.
Pull the lever, put it gear, and we're off.
It was still early and traffic was still light. I watched his eyes in the mirror. He was watching me too, but his eyes were on my chest so he didn't notice me watching him.
The halter is tailored to show off what little I have upstairs in the best possible way. Cut high to expose a lot of tummy, open wide at the front so that my pendant swung free between my breasts, and deliberately too loose at the top so anyone looking at me at the right moment, such as when I turned just so, would see most of one breast or the other.
The driver cleared his throat again. "Nice dress"
"Thank you, but it's a skirt and halter, not a dress"
"Oh, I know! I mean, I know the difference, I just think you look hot... uhh really good, that's all."
"Thank you"
He spent the rest of the trip chatting about the traffic, and how the cruise ships hadn't really helped his business much as he hoped. I made soft, affirmative sounds, and smiled, watching his eyes in the mirror.
We pulled over and stopped at the intersection I specified as my destination, paid the small fare plus a tip that more than doubled the total. He almost hurt himself running round to open my door.
I took his offered hand as I exited, leaning forward more than necessary to avoid "bumping my head", thus giving him pretty much an unobstructed view of my left breast, and probably nipple.
OK, so I over-tipped.
He gave me his card, which included his taxi cell number, assuring me he was available "almost 24/7 except when I am in class"
I thanked him again and walked away down the sidewalk, feeling his eyes on my rear, enjoying the looks and stares I was attracting. I saw one woman yank her male companion's arm hard as he turned to look at me.
I liked this outfit.

There were a few smokers outside the door of the club, but no one I really knew,. Some I recognized as "frequent flyers" regulars on weekend nights. Lots of leather, and Lycra, plus some skin.
The line to get in was short. As I waited my turn, I felt every layer of clothing peeling off me, until in the minds of the smokers I was standing stark naked (still wearing heels, I am certain) on the sidewalk outside the entrance. I heard a voice behind me murmur "juicy" and I felt myself blush from head to toe.
I reached the front of the line, smiled at the bouncer, (male, to my surprise) who ignored the floor show around him. I paid the cover and went in, clothes physically intact, if not mentally.

Loud. Dark, Flashing multicolor lights. Stobes. Giant dance floor, some couples dancing. I sighed. I missed other styles of Women's bars, quiet ones, soft music, slow dancing, talking. These days every Woman's bar seemed to be like this, the "Gay Disco" motif. It was OK for dancing, but conversation was limited. At least smoking was kept outside.

Still early, I had my choice with lots of empty places to sit. The bar was deserted, so I climbed onto a stool and ordered, trading my Visa for my first drink.
I scooted around to watch the dance floor. Didn't see anyone I knew, at least no one I knew in a biblical sense, just a few regular dance partners. It was early.
I had almost finished my first drink when I was finally asked to dance.
Short, (still taller than me), and older by 15 years or so, very short iron grey hair, smelled of smoke. Has she been outside?
I knew the type. Middle aged, tough inside, sometimes a hard life behind them. Attracted to the younger, lipstick types.
Like me.
She danced well enough, and bought me another drink between dances. At the end of the second dance she kissed me on the lips me while lightly running her fingertips across my bare back. While the combination produced the desired goose bumps, I reacted to her probing tongue with a certain lack of enthusiasm. She got the hint, as she soon saw someone she knew across the room, excusing herself with a quick peck on my cheek.

That started a series of dances, dancers and drinks.
I think five, maybe six? different women. There were quite a few kisses, a nibble on my neck that started a little warmth flowing through my middle regions, and few intimate liberties that I allowed so long as it was understood that I was not promising anything for later. I was soon feeling pretty buzzy. And warm.
I was having fun, but no one sparked anything in me. The music was not to my taste either. Lots of "new lesbian" stuff, (don't ask, if you don't understand I can't explain it)
I looked up at the DJ booth, hoping I knew the person inside. No. Curvy blonde femme type at the console with her date, wearing matching t-shirts, dancing in the booth. So now I knew who was picking our music tonight.

I swallowed the last half ounce of my drink, a White Russian, in a quick gulp and set my glass down on the bar.
Mmmm. Buzzy.
I felt good, warm, relaxed, even slightly happy, even if I hated the music. OK, a I was a little bored.
I became aware of someone leaning on the bar next to me. I turned to look.
"Hi"
"Hi"
"Buy you the next one?"
"Yes, please. The same thing"
Ok, not a terrible start. She was thin, tall, five ten maybe, with short, VERY blonde hair, so blonde it was almost white, her eyebrows matched, wearing leather with a sort of a Goth thing going, with black shadow and nails, dark lips, wearing a cropped black leather vest, the zipper open more than halfway, black leather pants, and of course, boots. The black thing set off her hair and complexion well. Three piercings each ear. No tattoos I could see. A large copper bracelet on her right wrist, a bulky man's sports watch on the left. Amethyst ring left thumb. A man's diamond pinky ring on her left little finger.
She was interesting.
Look, Goth is not one of my attractors, but I felt something radiating from her, an energy I found attractive.
She learned forward over the bar to signal Mitta, the bartender. I looked. No bra. Pierced right nipple. Can't see the left. No tan lines. Still no tattoos. She was a D cup, in here, wearing that top. A woman with a mission. On a mission? Anyway, to me she defined self confidence, which is a huge attractor for me.
She ordered me another White Russian, paid cash.
Man's wallet, biker's chain attached. OK, maybe not goth, maybe biker girl. I looked down. Boots were scuffed, more so on the right. Boots weren't just for show. Biker girl.
She accepted my drink from the Bartender, tipping her well, then held my drink up at my eye level.
"May I"
"Sure"
Confident, dominant, (mmmm!) but she asked permission before taking a sip. Good.
She sipped. "They do good White Russians here"
I wish she had said, "They do White Russians well here", but I mentally marked it down as a minor thing.
"I know. That's one of the reasons I come here"
She smiled a big smile at that, and set my drink down in front of me. She had nice teeth.
"Miranda, but call me Mickey"
"Wanda"
She waited politely while I took a big sip of my drink. I was feeling a pleasant tingle deep in my pelvis coupling with the heat that was already simmering there.
"Dance?"
I nodded and slipped off my barstool. She was surprised at my height. A foot shorter than her, the top of my head barely at the top of her boobs. That means she hadn't been watching me when I danced with the others.
Hmm. Had she come in with someone else?
I'm used to this reaction. People sometimes react funny once they see how short I am. I knew what to do. Taking her hand and squeezing lightly. Her hand was very warm in mine.
The tingle became more of a light buzzing feeling.
Head buzzing from alcohol. Groin buzzing from lust.
Buzz buzz buzz, I 'm a bee. I giggled.
She recovered from her moment of surprise, smiled, and led us out on the dance floor.

A new song came on, one I actually enjoyed dancing to.
We danced, a trifle carefully, as strangers do while trying not to move the wrong way at the wrong time. She danced nicely, and was a strong lead. I liked dancing with her. She moved well, with smooth, almost liquid movements.
No bumps or sore toes in the first 30 seconds, so she began to relax. There were long moments when she closed her eyes while we danced. Lost in her world?
It was nice. She was nice, so far.
The first song slipped into the next, and neither of us made a move to leave the dance floor.
My turn to relax during the second song. I looked her over slowly head to toe. Her hair was nice to watch as she moved, the short strands flowed, standing out around her head. In this light it give her a halo.
Horny little witch that I am, I watched her breasts move freely beneath her top. Now and then a bit of dark chocolate brown aureola could bee seen. She spun and for one fascinating second,her right nipple was framed by the silver teeth of the open zipper, the bar piercing it gleamed. Gold?
My gaze traveled. Her tummy was flat, and now again when she moved I saw muscles, work -out muscles. Narrow hips, old fashioned wide leather belt. Her leather pants fit her like a second skin.
Even in this light, I knew she was naked beneath them. Now and then the chain connecting her wallet to her belt would fly up and catch the light.
Back to her face. Her eyes were open, staring at my body as intently as I was staring at hers. I shimmied, flashing my boobs, and smiled when she looked up and saw me watching her. We laughed.
The light pelvic buzz became a hum.

Suddenly "Rhythm of the Night" segued into something new. A slow song I didn't know at first. Slow beat, bass, guitar, a woman began to sing, slow, almost mournful.
No words exchanged, we moved closer, into each other's arms, and danced.
I realized i knew this song. "I'm on Fire" but sung differently, almost erotically. Almost? The pelvic hum was becoming a throb.
Her hands lightly moved over my body as we danced. She was direct. Very. Direct.
Her right hand went around me, her fingertips lightly dancing over my back.
My hands hand found their places, coming to rest on her swaying hips, her muscular rear moving under my fingers. I was right. Nothing underneath.
I jumped when her left hand found the slit in my skirt, her fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my thigh above the hose.
She smiled when I reacted to her touch on my thigh.
She dipped her fingers beneath the elastic band of my hose, then let it snap back. I jumped.
"Sorry" she whispered loudly. " I was hoping:"
"For what?" I whispered back.
"Suspenders. Garters. Garter belts. I like them, a big turn on for me"
I blushed.
"I have several different pair at home. If I had known, I'd have worn a pair for you"
She smiled "Really?"
"Uh huh"
She spun me, catching me by surprise. The slit in my skirt flapped, and she was watching.
She pulled me close again. Closer. Her breath was warm, spicey. She didn't smoke.
Her left hand found the slit in the skirt again, moving across my thigh, over my hip, around to my ass. Stopped. Squeezing softly, then lightly stroking the skin there. I shivered again. I liked the feel of her finger tips tracing little circles on my bare ass.
"I like thongs" she murmured.
"I like them too. But I'm not wearing one"
We were "whispering" on the dance floor. That means anyone closer than five feet heard me.
Behind Mickey two younger women, twenty- one or twenty two maybe, student types from the University, obviously drunk, hanging all over one another, watching us. They saw me looking at them and began whispering to one another, lots of drunken giggles.
I blushed.
Mickey either didn't notice, or didn't care.
"You're not wearing a thong?"
"No"
Mickey's eyebrows went up. She flattened her right hand against my back and pulled me closer. I moved to her, shuddering when her hand slide beneath my skirt up to my waist, hesitate there, then slipping down and around to the front.
My brain was humming along with the increasing hum in my pelvis. This was delicious, sexy, intoxicating. She was feeling me up right here on the dance floor! With an audience!
I held my breath as her fingers lightly, teasingly traced their way around my crotch. When I finally felt her fingertip lightly brush my labia, I almost melted.
Taking a deep rasping breath, I pulled her hips, moving against her until we were touching, stomach, hips, and thighs, her hands exploring me, my hands planted on her rear, swaying in the near dark to this erotic music. Her breasts were cradling my head, almost resting on my shoulders. I turned my head so my cheek was resting against her chest. I felt her body react as I exhaled strongly, my breath gliding over her breasts.
Lower, the bare skin of her stomach was brushing against my hard nipples through my top. Each time she swayed, the feel of her skin rubbing against my nipples through the silk sent electric shocks straight to my pelvis.
I felt her shift, her right hand hidden between us, moving around beneath my skirt.
She stroked my labia gently.
Oh Mother Mary!
I wanted to cum! Was this song going on forever? I want her to take me someplace dark and quiet and make me scream.
I sighed, my head on her chest, and opened my thighs to her
I was lost to it. She knew. She could do anything she wanted to me, and I would let her.
I knew she was looking at me. I tilted my head back and opened my eyes. She had a half smile on her lips, but her eyes bored into me. So much was there in those eyes, lust, passion, power, sex, everything. She looked through my eyes, into my mind, and without changing expression, she moved her hand a tiny bit. Her finger parted my labia.
Oh God!
With agonizing slowness, she slid her finger up and down between my lips. I was wet instantly.
Her right hand slid across the skin of my lower back, cupped my ass, first over my skirt, then with a slight sensation of a breeze, she moved her hand again and I felt the cool skin of her free hand grasping my ass.
Without warning, she pulled my hips forward, sliding her finger into me, just a little ways. I gasped and in reflex, I clasped at her finger with the walls of my vagina. Her half smile became a full smile as she found my clitoris with another finger, her thumb? and flicked it lightly.
I buried my face sideways against her chest, the metal of her zipper cold on my skin, and moaned softly. She pulled me tight against her. I shuddered again as I felt her finger go even deeper into me, now all the way into me, as she used the other digit to rub my clitoris in tight circles. She pulled her finger back, not quite leaving me, then pushed back deep into me, and repeated the movement so that she was fucking me with her long, delicate finger, all the while rubbing my clitoris in tight little circles.

My mind swam.
Was this happening? Is this real? Is it happening to me here, now?
It has been a while since I had done something, so sexual, so brazen, so overtly exhibitionistic.

I felt a flush sweep over me with the next tremor from my pelvis, and realized what was about to happen.

I was going to have a HUGE orgasm, and very soon. Right here, in front of others, while my vagina, no, while my PUSSY, was being fingered by this stranger, this unknown woman, the leather -clad blonde I had met only minutes before. I was going to cum right here on the dance floor, in her arms, and soon.
I closed my eyes tightly, my cheek pressed against her chest, the hard bone of her sternum firm against my head, the side of her breast against my mouth, the skin there soft and hot against the sensitive skin of my lips.

First it was a heat, then a vibration in my pelvis, then...
I came.
Oh my God, was I coming!
Waves of pleasure erupted from me in a harsh spasm, starting from where she was rubbing my clitoris, wave after wave of pure pleasure flowing through me, every muscle in my body contracting almost painfully, followed by an incredible heat that erupted from deep within me, shooting outwards from my vagina, through my pelvis, then though my entire body, I felt a hot flush over every inch of my skin. My fingertips must have glowed from the heat inside. The spasms contracted the walls of my pussy, gripping her finger so tightly she couldn't move it. Her head moved, I felt her breath on my skin, near my ear. She whispered.
"Let it out, little girl, let it all come out for me"
The she kissed my neck where it flows into my shoulder, nipped at the skin with her teeth.
I sobbed, and I came again, or maybe it was just the second half of the first orgasm. I didn't know. I sucked the skin of her breast into my mouth, wishing it was her nipple, wanting to suck hard, even bite down on that gorgeous dark nipple I had spied only brief moments earlier. I knew I was making noise, soft mewling sounds into the skin of her breast, as I was overtaken by my own pleasure.
My hips moved of their own accord, thrusting madly against her hand as she rubbed harder, faster. She intensified her efforts, I felt a second finger slip into me, stretching me wider, fucking my pussy hard and fast, matching the rhythm of my thrusting hips.
Her leg moved, sliding between my thighs, and I humped her thigh, rubbing myself back and forth against her in a senseless seizure of lust.

My orgasm seem to go on and on forever, but most likely only lasted a minute, maybe two. My skin felt like it was on fire.
I squeezed my thighs together, trapping her hand and thigh there, and with both arms wrapped around her, squeezing her muscular bottom, I convulsed one last time, as though I was trying to pull her entire body into my pussy.
She had stopped moving her fingers, she waited. Waited for me. I finally went limp and almost fell, but she held me tight until I could half stand on my own, all the while we were still swaying to the music.
The song had changed at some point, I had no idea when, flowing into something else familiar, but my brain was a mess.

My body began to relax, slowly, a bit at a time. I took along, shuddering deep breath, and my hearing returned. Music, giggles, whispered voices.
"Did you see her? Humping each other right while they're dancing, right in front..."
"I though she was having a fit or something..."
"I think she did, do you...?"
"... and how come you don't cum like that when I do you..."
"That's why i come here, I love watching the skanky ones make out in front of everyone ..."
"I bet she's thrown out, maybe banned forever...."

Our audience.

Oh fuck me!
I had not been exactly discrete while I was having a monumental orgasm in the middle of the dance floor, had I?
Had anyone else seen us?

I opened my eyes. Mickey's left breast, now with a fresh mark on the inner slope, was a few blurry inches in front of my face.
I lifted my head away from her chest. There was a layer of perspiration on my face and her chest where I had rested my head. The air in the club was cool on my skin.
I looked around. It wasn't bad, at least not as bad as I had thought. A few couples close to us were looking, the Uni twins, as I mentally christened them were nearby, looking at us while swaying drunkenly. That's where the whispers and giggling had come from. The rest of the dancers were more engrossed in one another, still dancing to the music.
Mickey moved slightly, pulling her thigh from between mine. She stopped, waiting to see if I would keep standing. Satisfied I wasn't going to fall, she pulled her hand away, her finger leaving my vagina with a wet squelch that to me sounded as sexy and romantic as a wet mop dropping on a tile floor.
I swayed a little, quivering as her finger left me. She brought her hand up between us. Looking at me, she took the finger into her mouth, sucking it clean. I heard a gasp from one of our audience, and I ignored it. In fact, I wanted to shock them even more. Leaning forward, I licked her chest, tasting the salt of her perspiration mixed with mine. I looked up into her eyes and smacked my lips.

Laughing, she hugged me tight, then kissed me for the first time. I tasted myself on her lips.
The song ended, and she led me back to the bar. I was still a little wobbly.
No on said or did anything to us. I climbed on shaky legs to sit on my barstool and took a large sip of my White Russian. Mickey ordered a diet coke.
She moved so that we touched, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, arm brushing arm.
I leaned against her, then buried my face against her vest.
"Thank you" I mumbled.
"What?"
Pulling my had back, I tried again.
"I said thank you"
She didn't answer, just rested her free hand on my bare thigh, above the hem of my hose.

Two AM.
I was still off balance when we left. Not from more orgasms, but from more White Russians.
Mickey and I had danced, tried to talk, danced some more, and drank. We flirted, or at least I did, we made out a little, with lots of nice kisses, she exploring my mouth with her tongue, licking my lips, biting lightly at my lower lip, me kissing her hand, her fingers, and when no one was looking, the skin betwen her breasts.
She discovered I liked her to nibble and kiss my neck while teasing me with those magic fingers. A little petting, but no more thunderous orgasms.
We sat together and enjoyed the impromptu floor show in front of us. It started when one of the "Uni twins" called the other a "cheap cunt" and then the giant door guy had escorted them outside, where more drunken curses were heard.

At Last Call, we left together, out into the moist, liquid heat that comes with the summer nights here.
I had done all the drinking, though. She stuck to her diet colas all night, with an occasional sip of my drinks. She paid for all of them.
I stepped back away from her encircling arm, to look at her, and almost landing on my ass as I stepped off the edge of the curb, holding onto the parked motorcycle there to keep my balance.
She stood there, hands on hips, her top still mostly unzipped, her chest gleaming from perspiration.
She sipped my drinks, so she's not recovering. Probably. She was smart. Funny, knew some wickedly awful jokes. She asked politely. She didn't seem to smoke.
O Dear Lord, she was sexy.
"Are you driving?"
I was shocked to hear a question.
"Uh uh. I'm a cab ride away" Fuck, I was drunker than I should be. Must be careful. Avoid rape and murderers at all costs.
"You driving?"
"Sort of. That's my "car" your leaning on"
The motorcycle. Biker chick!. Wait, I already knew that.
She was holding me lightly in her arms. It felt good. When had she done that?
"Are you OK?"
"Mmmm yes, better than OK, thank you. Thanks to you." I giggled. "Hows come the Uni's got tossed and not us?"
She shrugged. I like what that did to her breasts. Up, down, side to side. I now knew for sure that she only had one nipple pierced. (Did I mention the five minutes we spent togather in the bathroom?)
I wanted to know why. I wanted to play with that nipple, nibble, nibble suck suck.
She laughed. "Really, do you now?"
Oh fuck me! "I'm thinking to you? Out loud?"
"Yes, I would like to"
"To what who?"
"Fuck you"
"Oh. Can we go to the beach?"

Ten minutes later I was holding on to Mickey as tightly as I could as we roared through the night on her motorcycle. I wrapped my arms around her tummy and held on as the night air blew up the bottom of the long t-shirt I was wearing. The breeze blew up over my soaking wet skin, billowing the shirt up around my body. I wondered if I was flashing everybody.

I wanted to ride the back of her motorcycle to the beach, but not while wearing my skirt and favorite top.
"Tah dah" Like a magician, she produced an over-sized t-shirt from the container on the side of her motorcycle,. She waited patiently while I put on the shirt, then undressed beneath it. A few stragglers from the bar stopped to watch us. My hands beneath the t-shirt, I unzipped my skirt, letting it slide down my legs and around my calves. As carefully as I could I stepped out of it and passed it to Mickey's hand. Underneath and behind my neck I unclipped the top of my halter, letting it slip to my waist beneath the shirt. I again reached down beneath the t-shirt, slid the halter around my body undid the second clasp. Putting my arms thorugh the am holes, I pulled it out, handing it to Mickey. Now I was nude under the t-shirt but for heels and hose. I ignored a call of "take it off girlie" from the group watching our little show.
After I gave her my top and skirt, I watched as she carefully folded and packed them away along with my purse into the motorcycle's case. She told me to leave the hose and feels on,"it's safer"
Uh uh.
She straddled her machine, and held out her hand. Taking it in mine... God her hand was warm, even in this heat!.. I put one foot on the passenger pedal, swung my other leg up and over, giggling at a "whoo hoo" from our small audience, and settled in behind her.

She started the motor, and I felt the deep rumble in my pelvis. She raced the engine. The machine gave a lurch and moved out into the street.
I leaned forward against her back, clasped my hands around her waist, and we were off.

To be Continued...

(a little tease, I am still checking my spelling and grammar)

Naked, we sat on the sand near the waters edge. I reached out, lightly traced my finger up her left thigh, carefully avoiding her glistening vagina, then up and across her tummy. I enjoyed watching her stomach muscles jump and quiver there.
Up to her chest. I cupped each lovely breast in turn, ran my thumbs over the nipples. They rose up, hard little points. I pulled on her piercing until she moaned, then released it.
She didn't say a word as I took her left hand in mine, pulled it towards me, and ran her fingers over my face. I could smell the scent of my own juices on her fingers. I took each finger in turn, sucked it deep into my mouth, licking and sucking each as though her hand were made up of five little penises. I released her hand, and reaching out, moved my fingers over her chest, until they were wet with her perspiration. I began to lick my own fingers clean.

to be continued.
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"I wondered, am I a lesbian, am I straight, or bisexual? Then I realized that I am just a slut.
So where's MY parade?"

---Margaret Cho
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