Girls' Night Out

by Anne Onimous
(Kitchener-Waterloo, ON Canada)

Girls' Night Out gone wild -- I'm in the white, she's in the black.

The year was 1998. The place was a marginalized nightclub in an unsavoury part of a major Southeastern US metropolis. The purpose? Girls’ Night Out for two bored housewives, escorted by the eligible, single friend of one of the husbands.

It started out tame enough, with an hour of fussing and primping before leaving with said escort. Next was the stop at the gas bar to fill up the tank and grab some film for the camera. (Yeah, we already figured on drunken antics...) From there, it was on to the package store to grab a few pints of vodka. Nightclub drinks are over-priced, and it’s cheaper to pre-game like this.

After downing all the vodka and orange juice, the three of us continued on to the (poorly) chosen venue. The place was pretty empty for a Saturday night, regardless of its "recently opened" status. We wives decided to hit up the dance floor in between rounds of those over-priced drinks. Our escort wandered off to make time with the brunette behind the bar.

Everything was actually rather routine and boring until about two hours into this Girls' Night Out, when all the vodka started catching up with her and me. That’s when things started getting interesting.

We mosied upstairs to check out the pool tables, which were – at that point – serving as nothing more than supports for the rear ends of several would-be gangsters. We managed to sweet talk them into vacating one of the tables for us, and I dropped the balls and racked them while she disappeared to the ladies room. I was leaning against the pool table, talking to a college classmate who had wandered past, when she returned... Only to walk up to me, sling her arms over her shoulders, and kiss me full on the mouth. In front of *everybody*. (Keep in mind, this woman is *hot*. And married. With kids.)

You can imagine the attention this drew.

Next, our escort wandered up to check and see what we were doing. He happened onto her nibbling on my neck, while I was trying – with great difficulty – to continue my conversation with my classmate. Things were getting kind of fuzzy and warm at this point, and we were starting to draw a bit of a crowd. Our escort, assessing the situation for what it was, pried her off of me, took both of us by the hand, and carefully led us back downstairs to sit at a table near the bar.

She made her way to the bar and grabbed MORE drinks from the brunette bartender whom our escort had been chatting up. Satisfied that we would content ourselves with sitting and growing even more drunk, he went back to his conversation with said bartender. That lasted all of maybe 15 minutes before she whipped out the camera and started demanding that he take photos of us, both at the table and on the dance floor. Of course, he obliged. (Do *you* say no when two drunk women ask you to take pictures? Probably not.)

Suddenly, somewhere in the midst of all this (I still haven’t figured out the how or why), it was decided that it was time for us to leave. Our escort grabbed the phone number of the bartender, then walked us out to his truck. We piled in, with some significant difficulty on her part, and spent the next few minutes kibitzing about where to go next, while waiting for his truck to warm up. Since neither of us were too eager to return home to our kids, since we rarely went out without them, it was decided that we would go over to our escort’s home, ostensibly to watch TV.

The entire way there, she was all over me. Hands in my shirt, mouth on my neck, grabbing me and kissing me. Insane. Hot, but totally insane. I didn’t know quite how to handle it, as she was clearly a bit more drunk than I was. Our escort kept looking over at us and grinning, and making the occasional smart-alec comment. When we got to his house, we all went inside, with him and me helping her in, since she wasn’t standing too upright on her own.

Down the stairs... past the den... toss her on the bed. She grabs me, pulls me down on top of her, and starts trying to remove my tank top! What a turn of events! Now I’m game for the occasional experimentation, but it was nagging at me a little that she was doing this under the influence of that much booze. It occurred to me that maybe she might not be so keen about the whole thing the next morning, so I told her she needed to think about it for a good 20 minutes or so. I grabbed up the guy and went into the den, where we sat and talked for a bit. I was kind of thinking, given how drunk she was, that she was going to pass right out while we were in the other room.

Went back in there after a good 30 or 40 minutes, sure she was passed out because it was so quiet. *Wrong*! She tosses off the blankets, and she’s naked, and she grabs me and commences with undressing me. He follows in to see what is going on, and stands there, dumbfounded and gawping for what seems like an eternity, while I’m trying to stay upright under her attention, and am shrugging at him and kind of mouthing "Smile and nod."

But no, lo and behold, he still has the camera from earlier at the nightclub, and suddenly produces it and cops a seat in the chair near the bed, with this huge grin on his face. She notices this, and apparently thinks this is a *brilliant* idea, and slurs out something about bringing back souvenirs for our husbands. At this point, I’m pretty tossed from all the vodka, she’s knocking me off balance, I’m kind of confused as to why her husband’s friend is sitting there with a camera, and I’m down to nothing but my panties...

Then things went totally awry, and all sorts of unmentionable things occurred. All documented on 35mm film.

Afterwards, she attempted to grab said escort and drag him into the bed as well, with fairly blatant intentions. He wasn’t having any of this, being best friends with her husband and all. At that point, she became quite irate, fell on the floor while trying to get out of the bed, somehow pulled on her clothes, and left the house. We’re not quite sure how she made it home from there in the middle of the night, but we’re guessing she walked, since she did actually make it home in one piece.

He let me sleep off all the booze for a few hours, then booted a hungover me into the shower, waited for me to get dressed, and then drove back to my house and returned me and the camera to my husband, with some vague comments about it being an interesting evening.

I've included one of the photos taken from the nightclub on our Girls' Night Out. I've chosen one the only one that shows both of us without showing her face, as I'd like to at least preserve her privacy. Everything taken after leaving the nightclub would be enough to require age verification on this site!