You've got my number

Two nights ago I went to the Bring Your Own Lesbian party. This is the second year that the event has been held and I hope that they do it again next year because I was not actually there for a very long time. Mind you, the amount of time required for me to leave with what I wanted is perhaps more indicative of how fabulously I enjoyed myself there.

What was interesting was the variation on a game I used to play at the Fetish Cafe back when they hosted Polyvalente nights. Each guest was given a sticker with a number to be placed in a visible spot. If you spotted a "number" that you liked, a message could be sent to them by dropping a note off at a silver tray held by a classily dressed women. Upon receiving a note, a heart containing your number would pulsate on a large screen and you could pick it up from the post mistress.

Imagine my surprise to see my number flash on the screen before I'd had a chance to have a proper look around. I swung by the post office on my way to the bar. After ordering a g & t, I read the message.

"Remember me? <} #247"

Hmmm ... my coupled friends and I were intrigued. Could the author be a past fling, jilted lover or one of my buds playing a trick? Casually, I scanned the crowd for little miss everywhere but to no avail. Encouraged by my pals, I decided to take a wee tour in search of #247. It didn't take long. I turned from the bar and headed to the balcony stairs in hopes that the balcony would provide a better vantage point. On my way up, a hand touched my arm.

"Hi."

Hello! Amber eyes, thick black hair cropped short, copper skin, beautiful smile. I mustered some calm. "Hi there," I checked her chest, "number 247." An awkward pause followed.

She smiled mischievously. "You don't remember me, do you?"

I emphatically replied, "Please refresh my memory."

She informed me of her given name and reminded me of our time spent in the ladies washroom at Cabaret Mado. Wow! Beautiful remained as hot as ever but had certainly ratched up the dyke o meter since our first encounter. This new look suited her to a tee. Tight black jeans, black vest over black shirt exploding with curves, white tie with matching suspenders and a small diamond stud in her left ear. Was that male cologne? Hot!

The sequence of events are a bit blurry now but we left immediately and grabbed a cab to mine. What I do clearly remember is that her perfectly manicured hands were opening up her lips before her panties hit the floor.

Rachel *****