She's Legal, her Party Wasn't!

So as everyone was recovering from the last party, which was too fabulous for me to even blog it, Kiki Jr. decided that the moment has come to give a ball, the highlight of her, ahem, stellar career in the gay society, and that everyone queen would envy and that would be the talk of the scene for days to come (which is the utmost any queen can hope for considering the attention span of queens in general).

To push things to the extreme, and be all controversial as ever, Kiki Jr. decided that her 21st birthday bash would be a themed party, a costume party that is.

Fearing that all the queens would mistake costume for drag, she stressed that each queen she should keep her wig in her bag and think 'outside the box'.

For a whole week every queen in town was thinking, 'what should I wear for Kiki Jr's party?'

Me and Kiki Sr. were no exception.

For days at a time Kiki Sr. talked of nothing else but 'what costume should I wear?'

And while I thought the prospect of wearing a costume is exciting, I knew it would be near impossible to have a nicely done costume in Cairo.

It would not go without notice and all kinds of wrong attention.

So I opted for 'soft drag'.

Meaning, heavy eye make up, lipstick, nail polish, no wig and a trashy outfit.

And after much useless resistance, Kiki Sr. followed suit.

So clad in my gorgeous Pashmina scarf (trying to cover up my indecent outfit), I was making my way to this fictitious suburb east of Cairo.

Sans make up we made our way to the residence of Kiki Jr. and her beau.

Fashionably early, we were both horrified and amazed at Kiki Jr. costume (photos available to select audience on Facebook) it was a leather top with a star situated mid chest, and hot leather shorts with straps on both sides, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Kiki Jr. was officially "out" to the society.

And to add just the right touch, Kiki Jr. wore fisting gloves.

While everyone is saying 'fisting is the new anal', I beg to differ.

Fisting is a pathetic excuse for loose bottoms and below average tops to get off.

Very sad...

And like they say, 'if its big, don't fist it'.

Anyways, Kiki Sr. volunteered to help me paint my nails, we both failed and I had to go without my dream of having the pseudo-drag queen look.

And it hit me while I was putting on my eye makeup how erringly familiar my face looked in the mirror.

I was a 'retouched' version of my mother!
Every girl's dream!
The version where testosterone ruined the smooth lines and soft features.

So with a lot of Freudian 'inversion' and a hint of psychosis I made my way to the party arena.

Kiki Jr. in my honor got us all dry Martini!
A girl's bestfriend!
I couldn't wait to 'have my cup filled'!

And in honor of Kiki Jr. and her birthday, I offered free Tarot cards reading to whomever Kiki Jr. bestows the honor to and chooses.

Here I was sipping on my gorgeous maritini willing myself to get intoxicated, and watching (acutely aware of my own voyeuristic position) and while waiting for the party to fill up Kiki Jr. beau, being the wonderful host that he is, offered me his delightful company. An incredibly perceptive Pisces, I am constantly amazed by how well he can read people, and I feared for his sake that he should know too much! *wink wink wu keda*

Like in every other party, there was the good, the bad and the ugly.

But my vote goes for the one person who actually managed to come in full drag, wig, high heels and all.
I thought it was prodigious.
While our dear sister lacked the charm and vivacity of typical drag queen, she made it up with a stunning figure and the perfect outfit.

And in our corner below the staircase, I was lodged with two chairs, two candles and my deck of cards.
I gave readings to many, danced with few, and indulged in a drinking binge of assorted alcoholic beverages.
Though I was exposed to the many intimate details of so many people that time, I am in no liberty to disclose them here or else where, yet I was touched by how everyone was looking for the same thing.

The same question kept appearing over and over again.

Love reigned supreme.

And in the few stolen moments, between the different readings, I got a chance to dance, in my completely intoxicated state, I did a few moves I was shocked I did, I did a few moves I was surprised I could.
The magic of alcohol!
And while I was in my "loose" state, there was one particular gentleman that me and Kiki Jr. long pined after.
She out of foolish pride refused to pursue (and rightfully so I must say) and me out of respect to her person and our friendship.
But we both had a lingering, unfinished fantasy involving him!

So there I was gyrating my pelvis, swinging my hips, and putting out all the moves I could, making myself "too available" as Kiki Jr. always tells me, and he being the cock tease (more of ass tease to be specific) that he is, only hints but never does.

Men!

By now I was too hot and bothered to be teased so, I decided to look for Kiki Sr. who was already drunk and gyrating her own pelvis in a way no one thought possible.
Myself included.
Instantly I followed her around the dance floor, and before it turned into another "fish convention", Kiki Dr. disengaged.

Kiki Jr. on the other hand was celebrating her moment, getting groped by lesbians, exes, ghosts, all were in love with her scanty leather shorts and fabulous endless legs.

I had every intention of staying till the wee hours of dawn but with my present state of intoxication I thought it would be best if I excuse my "leather" hostess and let Kiki Sr. grab me and leave!