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laughed.
Try as I might, she wouldnt divulge any more info than that.
Ali took me to Felixs Oyster Bar, world-famous I was told, and following her instructions to sauce the oysters first, I had raw oysters for the first time in my life.
It took me a couple to get the technique down, but soon I was sucking oysters from the shell with the best of em, followed by long pulls at ice-cold bottled beer.
"How do you like em," Ali asked, sucking her last one into her mouth.
"I like them, especially with the beer; not a bad combination," I answered, sucking my last one down, as well.
Leaning in towards Ali, just so she could hear what I was saying, I whispered, "Honestly, though, the way they feel sliding down my throat reminds me of swallowing cum after a blowjob," laughing as I said it.
She beamed a big smile and said, "Me, too; whew, glad Im not the only one who thinks that," joining me in laughter.
As we approached the Strip Club, it was jammed with people tying to get inside.
The posters on the outside walls showed some gorgeous damned women, long slender legs, beautiful skin, lips, and tits. "Good looking women," I told Ali.
"They not women," she said, "at least, not yet theyre not. Theyre trannies, most of them needing that final operation to give them a vagina, to make their transformation complete."
I stared at her, open-mouthed, like some damn farmer from Nebraska.
"I shit you not," she said to me as she walked us up to the doorman.
Of course, she knew him; she knew a hell of a lot of people in the Quarters I was to find out.
He ushered us inside, found us a small banquette facing the stage and told the waitress that our drinks were on the house.
Its good to know a lot of people in the Quarters, I figured out.
Those two hours we spent there were the most fun Ive had with my clothes on in a hell of long time.
The girls were all fucking beautiful and sexy; the drunk tourists and business people making fools of themselves over the performers.
The dancers hustled the guys for drinks and lap dances, they hustled the touristas and their wives, flirting with them, shaking their silicone boobs in their faces.
All were having a bon temps, as Ali would say.
Not having the luxury of the doorman to plow a path for us through the crowd that had filled the club, it took us nearly fifteen minutes to fight our way to the outside, to the fresh, cooler air.
"Damn, girl, it was only thirty feet but Ill bet my ass and boobs were felt and pinched a dozen times," shaking my head in disbelief.
Pulling her top to the side, she revealed some red pinch marks on the side of her breast.
"Bourbon Street tattoo; wear it with pride," she laughingly said.
She walked us down a side street, heading back towards the Square, our arms around each
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other, our heads against each others. Stopping every once in a while, wed embrace, wed kiss, wed fondle the other.
It was good, I thought, so damned fine.
"One more stop before we go home, Lynn; Harrys is an old established bar that most tourists dont find, except by accident, which is just fine with the locals. Its been a favorite haunt of some notable writers and musicians, Ive been told."
"Sounds just fine to me," I dreamingly said to her, my hand squeezing one of her ass-cheeks, liking the curve of her butt in my hand.
Being a Monday evening, Harrys wasnt crowded and we had no problem finding a couple of seats at the bar.
"Hey girl, where the hell have you been?" a smiling cute face asked in greeting to Ali, but including me in her smile.
"Kay, this is my friend, Lynn."
Taking my hand in hers, Kay leaned over the bar and kissed me on the cheek.
"Any friend of Alices is always welcomed in this bar," smiling brightly at me.
"Thanks, Kay, I appreciate the kind words."
"How bout you surprise us with something for a nightcap or two," Ali smilingly said to Kay.
Winking at us both, Kay turned and walked to the other end of the bar, her ass looking mighty fine in those tight pants, I thought.
"Want to pull those eyes back into your head, girly?" Ali jokingly remarked to me.
"Well, hell, Ali, don tell me youve never noticed her great looking ass before."
Leaning her head against mine, while her hand stroked my leg through my skirt, she said, "You forget, baby, that before you, I wasnt looking at other women that way."
"Oh sure, blame the new gal," I joked back with her, squeezing her leg in return.
Kay had fixed us a local concoction known as a Szarac Cocktail; it was developed back in the 1800s by a local barkeep here, in New Orleans.
I dont know whats in it, I dont really care; I do know, though, that I found a new favorite drink whenever Im going to be here.
It was delicious to drink and a quick trip to a buzz, at least for me it was.
Kay hung out with us at our end of the bar, leaving the conversation to serve customers or wait-help with orders.
She was very easy to talk with and made me feel very welcomed, as if wed known each other forever.
Ali was kept a little busy returning his and hellos with some of the regulars who drifted in and out of Harrys.
"You kittens want to step out with me for a few minutes while I catch a smoke?" Kay asked us.
Cautioning her second bartender to keep an eye on our stuff, we stepped out into the cool, night air and followed Kay as she walked down the block a bit.
Stopping in the shadows, she lit a cigarette, took a couple of puffs, tossed it to the ground and stepped on it with her shoe.
"Well, that didnt take long," I
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