My first French kiss with a woman took place in the bathroom of Club Femme Nu.

Her name was Tara. I first noticed Tara when she was auditioning as a stripper in a club where I worked called Club Femme Nu, or, ‘Femme Nu’.

 

Tara was a freak of nature. Aesthetically perfect. Perfect ivory skin. Perfect shoulder-length, naturally sun-kissed blonde hair. Perfect baby-blue eyes. She even smelled perfect, like a blend of lilac and fresh cool air after an all-night storm. Standing a few inches shorter and much more petite than I, Tara seemed an angel to me, almost frail.

 

Femme Nu was an all-nude strip bar owned by an angry Korean women, named Yuni. It was also the second club I danced in, and the first of many where I danced nude. I always loved the blatant neon pink sign on the wall outside: Femme Nu, which was French for “The Naked Lady”. Under the sign were smaller words lit up in neon green: “Live Nude Exotic Dancers”. I always thought that was funny. As opposed to what, “Dead Nude Dancers”?

 

Tara didn’t even need to audition she was that stunning. Yuni had a rule though; “No dance, if no audition naked”, she would yell. Yuni was a complete horror to work for, but Femme Nu was the hottest club in town, and if you wanted to rake in the dough, you put up with Yuni.

 

Looking at Tara and realizing her obvious beauty, I remember thinking ‘why is she not modeling?’ She was a decent performer, but something about her seemed way too angelic for Stripperocity. Each time I saw Tara’s face, I was reminded of Michelle Pfeiffer. The 1983 movie Grease II was a flop, but you will never forget That Face. To me, the sheer captivation of Michelle Pfeiffer’s beauty was the same mesmerizing aura Tara personified.

 

One night between sets, I paid my usual visit to the bathroom for a little pick-me-up. It was close to midnight and the club was packed. I was alone in the tiny one-stall bathroom, having just snorted a line of coke from the white porcelain toilet cover, behind the bowl. Adjusting from leaning over and now standing up straight, I pinch my nose and sniff. I step in front of the stall and try and get a clear view in to the dusty mirror for a quick ‘powder check’ before walking back out to the floor. Head tilted back, looking up my nostrils and seeing no white residue; I am satisfied. I stretch my arm out to reach for the doorknob and before I make contact, the door swings wide open.

 

Stepping back for fear of being hit, I see and hear Tara walking in. “Oh my God, Hi!” Tara exclaimed, seeming as startled as I was. Tara maneuvered her tiny body next to mine and we shared a smile. I returned her greeting with a casual ‘hey’ (trying not to seem high) as I stepped another pace backwards to allow her face-space in the mirror. I assumed she was just checking her lipstick, because she never inched past me toward the stall.

 

Tara was obviously tipsy and I was obviously high, but neither of us mentioned this as our conversation evolved from hellos to compliments.

 

“You are so beautiful”, Tara said, looking at me in the mirror as she put on her lip-gloss. “I love watching you move,” she continued. I was shocked and flattered. I never knew she so much as noticed me on stage.

 

“Thank you… “ I grinned a little, looking back at her through the dusty mirror as I slowly shook my head in disbelief. I wanted to tell her how wrong she was, how I would never be in the same league as her. Looking at us both in the mirror, I felt like the clumsy horse, and she was the beautiful doe. Still freshly high from the coke, I managed to string the words out of my mouth; “You should talk, you are such a model”. “Why you don’t model, is beyond me” I mumbled.

 

Tara must have felt my insecurity because she suddenly broke our eye contact in the mirror and turned to face me, looking me straight in to my eyes. “You are sweet, but there is something about you”, she said. “I can’t explain it, but it’s the way you move…the way you dance, you are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen”.

 

Tara turned in to this beautiful cheerleader. MY cheerleader. I was stunned.

 

My grin was almost one of embarrassment, because suddenly I felt something I never felt before. Being a stripper, I was no stranger to compliments, but this time it felt different. I was being complimented, gushed over even, by a woman. I never experienced that before. Then suddenly, it struck me; Tara was flirting with me.

 

No sooner did I realize her kindness was more of a sexual advance, than I felt her body pressed against mine and in a matter of seconds, my back was pushed against the corner of the stall door and the vibrating wall. The base in the club was so hard and the music so loud, it was common for the dressing room and bathroom walls to buzz during a particularly heavy-based song. Tara brushed my hair away from my face and kissed me softly. Our mouths opened. Our tongues touched. Ohhhhh, I thought to myself. This is new. This feels… soft…and nice.

 

The natural chemistry was electric. Our mouths opened and I followed Tara’s lead. Her tongue tasted like Juicy Fruit, cranberries and vodka. I let my tongue follow hers and before I knew it, we were in the throws of a deep, hair-pulling kiss that felt like it lasted forever. I remember her moaning and telling me she’s wanted to kiss me since she saw me dance. All I could do was think; “thank you!” I don’t remember what I said. I think we just kept kissing.

 

By body was tingling and my pussy started to throb with the warm sensation of excitement. Tara's fingers gently made their way up my tight skirt and she softly pulled my panties to the side. My naked pussy welcomed her touch, and my knees buckled in pleasure.

 

I could feel my nectar dripping to the rhythm of her strokes on my engorged clit and our kisses became deeper. I didn't care who heard me, over the loud base, over the crowd outside of the bathroom, I began to moan. My head arched back, Tara licked my neck and whispered 'cum baby'.

I started to tremble. I was ready to bring it to the top and release my juices all over Tara's fingers as she moved them deep inside with her other hand. She knew I was close and allowed me to let go.... slowly, then so hard it felt like I was making the walls shake.

 

"Fuck". I sighed. Tara kept kissing my neck, but I could feel her smile on my skin. "Wow. Wow. Wow.... " I managed to mumble in between deep breaths of afterglow.

 

After drenching her fingers with my juices, Tara let me lick her fingers and we kissed for a while longer. After a time, we came up for air and giggled. We fixed our lipstick together in the mirror and I offered her a line of coke. She eagerly accepted and we shared a sniff before heading back out to the floor of the club.

 

Although we never spoke of our moment in the bathroom, Tara and I shared something that night that I never spoke of with anyone. Who knows if it was because it felt too surreal, or if it was the fact I was never attracted to a women before. I just never thought of sharing the story, which was so unlike me. Had it been a hot man, I would have bragged immediately to my fellow gals in the dressing room. Perhaps I was afraid of judgment, from others or myself.

 

I don’t remember when she left, but Tara wasn’t around for more than a few weeks. Shortly thereafter, Tara seemed to vanish. I heard she moved back to Florida, and I remember feeling sad. I never had the chance to say good-bye, or thank her. I always wanted to thank her for making me feel so sexy that night in the bathroom.

 

I always wondered if Tara ever knew how instrumental she was in opening up my mind, and my taste buds to the soft and warm kisses of women. I hope wherever she is, she knows how much her Juicy Fruit kisses ignited and changed sexual compass forever.