The Experience of a Straight Guy at a Lesbians Party - Part 3

I lapped away gleefully on her breasts like a puppy till I was roughly pulled from behind and the cloud dissipated. 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 Tracy’s laps, I don’t know if Tracy was drunk but she giggled like some dumb bimbo and then the bull in front of me sized me up and down, she noticed the boner in my trousers. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she bellowed:

“What is your name and who invited you here?” I looked around frantically for Gbade and noticed him in the company of some girls and two dudes, our eyes met and he could tell the terror in my eyes. I pointed at him feebly and the girl’s eyes turned towards the direction I was pointing.

I saw Gbade excuse himself as he sauntered over with his usual arrogance.
“What’s going on here?” he asked with a lazy drawl and the girl sized him up and down as well. She concluded I must be the girl while Gbade the man because she jabbed a finger on my chest and said:
“Your boyfriend has been all over my girlfriend all night and I am not liking. 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 made to leave, the girl threw a punch that wheezed past my face and hit Gbade squarely on the nose. The impact had him reeling backwards and he fell headlong into a table, upsetting all the drinks and bottles on the table. It was a racketing noise of breaking bottles and shattering glasses, Gbade cursed as he staggered up and he took one look at me and said
“Femi to the car, need to teach this bitch a lesson.” I was too terrified to speak and I quickly ran outside. Gbade was looking ferocious and I know he has a temper. From the car I heard noises and breaking bottles and saw Gbade running into the car about five minutes later with his shirt torn and a cut on his hand and cheek. He got into the car and with a start of the engine, he rammed into the half-opened gate denting his front fender but pushing the gate opened. A bottle came crashing in from behind, shattering the glass and I ducked my head. With a warlike whoop, Gbade zoomed off.
He later told me that somehow they had found out we weren’t queer and that he had punched the girl back and given her a scar she wasn’t soon going to forget. He wouldn’t stop talking about the incident for days, saying it was an experience he wouldn’t mind repeating again, despite the damage to his car and the scar that now sits smugly on his arm. I was just glad to have come out of the whole situation unhurt. Looking at it now, it wasn’t such a bad adventure now was it?