Please Take Your Hand Off My Thigh, Butch

Tonight I got hit on by a very drunk, very butch lesbian. Now, some ladies might have enjoyed this if they are into company of the female persuasion. I, on the other hand, did not. In fact I found it quite uncomfortable and slightly disturbing. She definitely made a few pelvic thrusting motions I don't wish to ever see done again. 

I was at a bar with a few of my girlfriends, listening to some horrendous live music I wouldn't inflict on anybody I didn't want to see suffer and all of a sudden up waltzes this girl. As she stumbled upon our small gathering she made her presence very known. 

"Heeeeyy Ladiesss" slurred Butch. We all glanced at each other as if to say, Does anybody know this crazy chick? We did not. This didn't appear to bother her. She motioned behind her to a spot on the dance floor where a guy was furiously gyrating into a very large beastly girl. I'm pretty sure they were attempting to have sex without the inconvenience of leaving the bar, or getting horizontal.

 As she motioned at them, Butch said, "I would never let any guy thrust into me that way, I mean, none of you ladies ever have to worry about that. Don't ever let a guy do that I mean we have what you need right here." And then Butch proceeded to cross the line. Before this, I may have just written her off as some crazy drunk girl. But no, she had to keep going. She started to make what I can only describe as "diddling" motions with her fingers in her crotch area as she thrust her pelvic forwards. This image is burned into my retinas. She then mumbled a whole bunch of stuff which was barely intelligible but I did manage to catch the word "clit" and possibly "lick" thrown in there often. 

Suddenly, she grabbed my face and ran her hand up my thigh. Now Butch had gone too far. I have nothing against lesbians. In fact, I've made out with quite a few girls in my day but I got all my straight girl lesbian action out of the way by the time I was 19. As Butch inched closer to my face, her warm alcohol laden breath creeping down my neck, I wondered if it was inappropriate for me to push her away and run to the bathroom. Instead, I just sat frozen while Butch whispered sweet nothings into my ear. 

"You don't ever have to worry about anything. You know why? Because your beautiful. Gorgeous. Bonita." I contemplated how to answer this. I can't even remember the last time someone called me beautiful. Not even my last boyfriend. It's kind of sad that it had to be coming from an unattractive female. 

"Um, Thanks?" I responded. 

"Beauuutiful...." She slurred in what appeared to be a (failed) attempt at seductiveness. Then she walked away in what I can only describe as one of the most grateful moments in my recent past. Why was I the target of this girls affection? I could be narcissistic and say its obviously because I'm beautiful like she said. But let's get real. I need to stop drinking Coronas and start drinking raspberry vodkas like the rest of my girlfriends.