Often wonder why women go to the restroom in pairs?  Maybe this is why... 

 I worked with this girl for four years. We became the best girl friends. She was like my other half. I used to always joke that if she had a cock, I’d marry her. She was the perfect Scorpio. Sexual, into pleasing, funny, sensual and she had a great body. She used to come over to my desk and run her fingers up the back of my neck, play with my hair and massage my head. It was better than an orgasm. She was Armenian so she would do the double-kiss-on-the-cheek thing and I loved that she wasn’t freaked out if our lips got too close. If we were sitting down next to each other and put my hand on her thigh while stressing a point in our conversation she would never shy away. Many times she would take my hand right back. She was just very comfortable with my physical contact and I’m a very physical girl. One night she and I went out with our other really good friend. The three of us girls were out at a club, getting crazy attention, looking good. There was me, the dark-haired, tall, Native American girl. There was my friend, the short, big-bootied Puerto Rican girl with green eyes. And my Armenian soul mate with the hour glass figure and dark, sexy eyes. We’ve already downed our two drink minimum and we are writhing together to bass filled music, rubbing, touching, grinding in our own tight three person circle. Guys keep coming to try to scoot in between us but we aren’t interested. We are more interested in each other. I’m running my hands up and down my Armenian friend and as I lower myself in a dance move, my hands are in the crook of her knee and as I come back up my hands are on her bare legs, running up under her skirt. I’m getting dangerously close to where her legs meet and she’s making no point of stopping me. We are smiling and laughing and talking and our hair is pasted to our necks. We stop to get another drink and talk some more. We are entertained by telling guys that come up and hit on us that, “no, we weren’t with our boyfriends, but we are with our girlfriends.” Eat your heart out guys! After a couple more drinks and a couple more dances we all have to use the restroom. There are hordes of girls fighting for mirrors and stalls and my Puerto Rican friends finds a stall and my Armenian friend and I get shoved into a handicap stall together. We are giggling and holding each other to keep our intoxicated, high-heeled balance and as we fall into each other we start making out. Oh my god! I never thought it would happen. But then she sits down on the toilet, brings me to her by my thighs, pulls my skirt up and moves my thong to the side. She puts pressure under my thigh to get me to raise one leg to make my pussy easier for her to access and soon my foot is propped up on the toilet paper dispenser. She laps at my clit like a kitten drinking from a saucer of milk and I know we don’t have time. I hear my other friend’s toilet flush and I put my leg down and tell her I want to return the favor. She hikes up her skirt and pulls her own panties to the side and stands up. I turn my head side ways and fit it between her thighs and taste away. Before I can be satisfied my Puerto Rican friend is banging on the door asking us what the fuck we are doing. We giggle, give each other the signal to be quiet and finish going to the bathroom. Our night ends soon after and unfortunately we all have to go home to boyfriends. I know we both are thinking about it the whole way home but can’t say anything in front of our other friend. The next day at work neither of us says anything about it and still hasn’t. Is it a case of drunken loss-of-memory, or are we both waiting for the other one to say something? What do I do? I want so badly to have more of what I was only able to sample.