I’m a reasonably straitlaced — more girl next door than wild exhibitionist. So what was I doing in a Manhattan sex club?
I believe Jamie Foxx said it best: Blame it on the alca-alca-alcohol.
Allow me to explain, your Honor. I was out to dinner with the guy I was dating, full of wine and feeling frisky. I suggested that maybe it would be fun (or funny, at least) to drop in on one of the many sex shops that dotted the neighborhood. He was skeptical — was I sure I wanted to do that? I laughed him off. If I could prowl through the adult sections with my gay roommate, I could certainly make the trip with someone I was actually sleeping with.
via What Happened When I Went to a Sex Club – Lemondrop.
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