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I kissed a girl

Although I have yet to mention it here, I've sometimes wondered if I had a faint bisexual gene. I say this because, every once in a great while, I see a woman I find attractive. Usually they are shorter than me with an hourglass-type figure. Not skinny. 

I still remember a petite blonde colleague at Getalife who I would watch as she walked, as she had this wonderful bottom. Not too big, but still there. Rather Marilyn Monroe-ish. She hated her body of course. I thought this was sad.

But back to the present. After several months of occasional correspondence, I recently began lunching with a woman the Cub* had initially met on an adult web site. We quickly found out that we both were members of the same infamous adulterers' web site and we discussed that quite a bit. Most of it consisted of complaining about how most male members of the web site were poor correspondents and a few assumed that any woman on this site was either a slut, desperate, or a desperate slut. 

Our initial plans - a foursome with her and her adulterous boyfriend (both were married to partners with no libido) - fell through when the adulterous boyfriend Martin decided to behave. This was disappointing as I found him attractive during our one meeting several months ago (before my lunches with Alison began), although these complex pursuits almost never make it to fruition and I was prepared for that.  The girlfriend - let's call her Alison - wasn't there that evening so she wasn't heavily discussed.

During this year, both the Cub and I kept in touch with Alison, even after Martin departed. About a month ago, I began meeting her for lunch. And when the Cub snagged a one-night trip to Dallas earlier this week, we decided to get together for some adulting.

Like any other first time experience, there were highs and lows. One thing that particularly fascinated me is how different it is to kiss a girl. Other observations:  there's no major difference in how women feel or taste (although  my anosmia may have contributed), our ladytowns were built just as similarly as I had suspected, and I didn't feel jealous. 

But I felt a definite sense of sadness afterwards.

I think a major part of this is that I hadn't been able to spend any solo time with the Cub before or afterwards. I hadn't seen him since February.  And his departure was necessarily swift as he literally had a business colleague in transit to the hotel as Alison and I left. But then I haven't heard anything at all from him since. 

I suppose I will have to console myself with the fact that I taste better than Alison.

* See The Usual Suspects at right.

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