Tricked! The Lesbian Party Experience – Part 3

lesbian party penastory

Excerpt From Part 2

“Seems your boyfriend abandoned you, why not let daddy take care of you?” I pushed him aside and barked, “get off you disgusting piece of shit!” My voice a little too loud and some heads turned to look at us. My dancing girl companion only laughed in her half-drunk state and disentangled herself from me, sinking back into the chair she had just vacated to take another swig of her alcohol.

Read Part 2: CLICK HERE

“What did you say?” The music suddenly seemed too loud and my throat felt dry. I was finding it hard to think straight. How could this pretty chick also be a lesbian I thought to myself at the same time, feeling a sense of dread in her question.

“She asked if he is your boyfriend?” I looked in the direction of the new voice. A fierce looking butch girl was glowering at me with so much anger in her eyes that I took a step backward and fell on a girl’s laps. Tracy who was watching the scene giggled drunkenly from the other side of the room and waved at me like some dumb bimbo. The bull in front of me sized me up and down and I don’t know if it was the look on my face or the boner in my trouser that gave me away but she suddenly narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she bellowed, “what is your name and who invited you here?”

I looked frantically in the direction of Gbade but he seemed enthralled in the company of the girls and two other dudes he had retired to a table with. As if sensing my frantic gaze, he looked up and took in the scene. There was the soft girl with a beauty to rival an angel smiling at me in a sneering manner and the other who looked like the devil itself. The latter was staring at me as if she was ready to tear me into pieces. He didn’t need to be told something was wrong. He excused himself and hurried over, covering the distance that separated us in long strides.

“What’s going on here?” he asked with a lazy drawl, touching me on the arm affectionately in a manner that made my body cringe in disgust but I tried to keep a bland expression. The butch girl sized him up and down and must have concluded that he was man enough before she snapped her fingers in my face and said:

 “Your boyfriend has been all over my girlfriend all night and I am not liking it. Just because I am the DJ doesn’t give him the license. This isn’t a straight party or one of your faggot parties, so tell your boyfriend to back off.” I could tell Gbade was under the influence of alcohol because he jabbed his fingers right back on the girl’s breasts and slurred
“Shut up dyke and let a real man do the job. I could give you a good screwing so bad you wouldn’t want to eat another pussy again in your life.” He turned to me then and took my hand “Common Femi, let’s get out of here, this party is getting boring.”

As we turned to leave, the girl threw a punch that sent Gbade reeling as he tumbled headlong into a table and bottles fell to the floor with a clatter. I turned in horror to look at Gbade’s assailant but a punch greeted me and I doubled over in pain as I felt the breath knocked out of me as her fist connected with my stomach. Being an ulcer sufferer, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and doubled over in pain, slipping on one of the bottles that Gbade upset during his fall. I fell with a plop and landed on Gbade who was just trying to pull himself up, knocking him back to the ground. It was a racketing noise of breaking bottles and shattering glasses.

Gbade cursed and managed to stagger up, “Femi to the car, I will teach this man want to be a lesson.” I don’t know if I ran from the need to sit down to cool the pain in my stomach or simply because I knew only too well of Gbade’s temper, all I know is that I didn’t need any further prompting as I limped to the car even as I heard the sound of a bottle being smashed. The music had suddenly stopped and there was a lot of commotion and I found myself terrified than in pain. What was going on inside? Should I go in to help Gbade? Could he hold his against them all if they were to know we were straight? I knew I was not going to be of much help, not with the burning pain tearing me apart and my dilemma was soon resolved when I saw Gbade running towards the car. His shirt was torn and he seemed to be bleeding. He jumped into the car and started the engine even as a bottle hit his side of the car. He rammed into the half-opened gate denting his front fender but managing to push the gate open. Another bottle came crashing in from behind as we tried to make our escape. The bottle hit the boot of the car but he didn’t wait but simply sped off into the night.

I was too scared to say anything. All I wanted was to be back in the safety of my hostel, preparing for my test. We made our escape thankfully and till date we have never spoken of the incident. I tried raising the issue once but Gbade only brushed it off.

“It’s just one of those adventures. Can we not talk about it?” Well, since he is not going to talk about it, I might as well feel free to write about it although really he wouldn’t talk about it because he felt too embarrassed to have been knocked down by a girl. Which guy wouldn’t be?

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About Akinwale Poshkid

Lover of fiction and in a constant crave for junk food. I write to express and not to impress. Twitter and IG: @thatboyakinwale
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