Start the adventure here
The closer we got on Commercial street to the event, the more brown faces mingled with the older, middle class white lesbians and gays that I took for regulars. It occurred to me that there were probably more black women there that weekend then P-Town sees the whole rest of the year!
As we approached the entrance to the pool party Noma suddenly looked shaken. She pulled me aside.
“My ex is there!”
Now, I could have sworn up and down that Noma told me that her ex–the one she was still not over–was white, so I’m all scanning the crowd for a white face an not seeing one.
She brought me around the corner, where four women (three studs and a beautiful femme–the femme clearly “with” the eldest of the butches) greeted her warmly. Noma responded awkwardly and did not introduce me.
“That was my ex.” Noma told me as we proceeded to registration.
“The femme? Damn she’s gorgeous!” How was I supposed to compete with that? She was classy: slender, but well endowed–perfect hair and nails and a pretty sundress. I’m–well, me: round face, no discernible waist, greasy hair–pretty much my only assets are my smile, titts and ass.
We went into the pool party, where I was greeted by cold glances from the women, who were all sitting around in the sun barely talking to each-other.
Now, I generally like going to WOC events, but sometimes black women can just go out and sit there doing nothing–like they’ll all be sitting around the edges of the dance floor, but no one wants to be the first to dance. This was like that. Everyone sitting around, keeping to themselves–watching each other–not what I call a party!
After saying hi to a few women I knew, we went back to the cabin, where I washed my hair and watched Black Womyn and Noma got morosely drunk.
Noma pulled herself together and rest of the day was fun…there was the tequila and wine tasting, dancing way into the night, and delirious late night scream-worthy fucking with the big dick.
Noma broke up with me the next day.