Aug 182017
 

There’s this bartender, at the bar I frequent. She’s insanely hot. Blonde. Wears a choker. Almost always.

She flirts, always, but always in that way that communicates, “I’m a bartender. I have a boyfriend. Or in any event, I’m not dating ANYONE I met here. But I’m flirting with you because it’s fun, and it’s in my job description.”

I flirt similarly. In a way that says, “You’re fun to flirt with, and I know that, as long as I’m respectful, you’ll indulge my flirtation.”

Anyway, recently, after conversation I won’t summarize, we got to the topic of the taste of pussy. I told her Oban tastes like pussy.

“I wouldn’t know that taste,” she said, and my WHOLE PICTURE of her shifted.

I wasn’t shocked she hadn’t tasted another woman’s pussy. I don’t presume bisexuality. But her own??? Fuck.

We processed that, together, for a few. Her conversational comfort with the taste of her pussy was oddly radically different from her curiosity thereabout.

All I can say is, how do you make it to your late 20s or early 30s and a) not know what your pussy tastes like, and, at the same time, b) be perfectly comfortable discussing that with a dude you serve drinks to once every week or two???

Say something! (I just did....)