Confessions of a Sorority Girl: Interracial Delight

Natalia Darque tells the story of her days in college in Texas. In the mid-1980's interracial romances were rare, and in Texas, nearly unheard of. As a member of a sorority, some of her straight-laced sisters are scandalized when a black fraternity moves in next door. To welcome them to the neighborhood, Natalia attends a party and meets Drake, a handsome black athlete.

She risks everything to undertake a liaison with this smoking hot black man.

Thanks for reading me!

This story is about keeping a promise.
I promised that one day I would tell this story, and get back at the people who crossed me. That is why you are reading about my adventures today.
As a college student in the late 1980’s in Texas, I was able to participate in a variety of wonderful experiences as I grew into womanhood. One of those experiences found me ensconced in a prejudiced all-white sorority, deep in the heart of a university in a state renowned for its bigotry and repressed sexual attitudes.
In 1986, I was a junior in college. I had found my way to the university on a full-ride cheerleading scholarship. I felt lucky, because the college was in my hometown. Their hard-luck football team had just hired a new coach, and in their first season, they began to turn things around.
I was in my third year on the cheerleading squad. I certainly felt good about myself. I was attending school on their nickel, so I had no financial worries. My grades were great. I was easily pulling A’s and B’s in all my classes, possibly because of my looks. At five feet, five inches, I was in the best shape of my life. Morning workouts in the gym at the student center had given me a rock-hard firm little body. I was a size 0, with a nice, firm little ass, and a firm D-cup set of tits that turned every head in every room I walked into. It was the era of big hair in Texas that year, and my long blond hair that fell down to the middle of my back didn’t hurt my looks either.
Oh, and did I mention my blue eyes?
When I arrived on campus, I had no intention of joining a sorority. They seemed to me to be a bunch of stuck-up socialite bitches. But in my sophomore year, they came courting me. I was a cheerleader, and I was beautiful. Most of them had rich parents, but they were willing to overlook that flaw of mine, because I was one of the most noticeable female faces on campus. One sorority, who I will just call the Alpha’s, begged, cajoled me and finally gave me no peace until I agreed to become a pledge.
My first year as an Alpha, I had a great time. There were lots of parties with the fraternity guys, and lots of good fun. Lots of good sex (at least I thought it was good sex at the time!). I had fun, but not too much fun. I didn’t meet any guys that just really lit up my rocket, but they were good enough for some casual fun now and then.
That all changed right after Christmas in my junior year.
Due to a fraternity getting kicked off campus for what was euphemistically called a “multiple sexual assault” (read involuntary gangbang), the frat house next door came open. Then, to the horror of some of my “sisters,” we learned that a black fraternity (who I will refer to only as the Omegas) were moving in. Well, you would have thought that Mongol hordes had just swarmed across the border from Louisiana!
In a highly-charged sorority meeting just after the announcement, the issue of our new neighbors we discussed. I am ashamed to admit, but more than one use of the word “nigger” was uttered by my heretofore prim and proper sorority sisters, as the debate raged about what we were going to do.
In the end, cooler heads prevailed, and we realized that with a $500,000 mortgage on our sorority house, this was a real bad time to decide to move on a bigoted whim. One sister, who I will be forever proud of, made a motion that was seconded and narrowly passed, to send a delegation to welcome the Omegas to our neighborhood.