Peek A. Booty: Part II
Photo: J. Robert Williams
...Continued from last week.
Not only is Peek A. Booty fun to look at, she’s also fun to chat with, which made the next few hours in the car exciting. We talked of '90s hip-hop, sang along to KC and the Sunshine Band and told childhood stories of growing up on diets, all the while feeling each other up flirtingly.
By the time we reached the off-ramp for her friend’s workplace, we both had bursting bladders from the copious cups of Jasmine tea we drank at dinner. Looking forward to relieving ourselves, we pulled into the address googlemaps gave us, and gawked at what we saw.
In front of us was Area 51.
Ok, it wasn’t really Area 51, but it was a maximum security government compound that looked a little too much like a cold war bunker for our liking. Apparently her friend wasn’t joking when he said he was a rocket scientist.
We were certain alien UFOs were parked in the giant warehouses and at least three nuclear bombs were hidden in those silos. Worst of all, there wasn’t a bathroom in sight among the 10-foot-high barbed wire fences and concrete walls.
Pulling up to the entrance gate, we asked the security guard if there was a bathroom nearby, and got a less than friendly no response, followed by a forceful suggestion that we quickly vacate the premises.
Booty explained that her friend worked there and was bringing us her key, and then repeated her plea for a bathroom. Again we got a no, but this time the armed guard let us pull over and wait in a designated spot for Booty’s keys.
It took 25 minutes for her friend to make it out of security and pass us the keys, which had been checked to make sure they weren’t actual secret government data in disguise being passed onto two dangerously fabulous femmes in a Subaru.
Thanking him for his help, we found the quickest gas station with a bathroom and sped to Booty’s place, our focus back on the important matter at hand. Shoving the door open as soon as it was unlocked, we screwed until the sun came up, which wasn’t actually that far away by the time we got home.
Exhausted, I said good-bye to Booty, keys in hand, and headed home, glad to have had such a fun adventure to write about.
Blogger Bio: Queerie Bradshaw loves shoes, social justice and sex. Born a farmer's daughter, she believes everyone deserves a good roll in the hay, and feels empowered by her feminine sexuality. She frequently travels both domestically and abroad, exploring women and wine from all regions. Now a law student who dances burlesque on the side, she fights for international rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of good porn. You can visit her website at QueerieBradshaw.com, follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/QueerieBradshaw) and become a fan of hers on Facebook.