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A Love Story

The bisexual lifestyle can be a lot of fun. Let no one tell you otherwise. My name is Lawrence Henderson and I'm a six-foot-tall, good-looking black man living in the town of Boston, Massachusetts. I work as an executive at Anderson & Winston on Boston's Financial District, one of the top investment firms in New England. For the most part, life is good. I make three hundred and eighty grand a year, after taxes. Thanks to the foreclosure crap I managed to buy a nice house on Brockton's West Side for just one hundred grand. I drive a bright red convertible. Life is good.

Lately, I found myself bored so I went looking for adventure. I found some in Boston's Back Bay. I met this sexy transsexual named Gina Dawson. She is a tall ( standing five-foot-eleven) and quite good-looking woman with light brown skin and long black hair. She is a dead ringer for the popular singer Alicia Keys. Except that she has a thick, round booty that would make pornstars jealous. Between her shapely legs is one of the biggest dicks I've ever seen. This sexy transsexual is something else. Before she told me she was a tranny, I never would have guessed. And I've seen a lot of transsexuals in my day.

Gina turned out to be just what I needed to get out of the funk I was in. She turned out to be a lot of fun. By day, this mystery lady works as a police officer in the city. Her co-workers have no idea that she's a transsexual. She even told me that a lesbian co-worker had a crush on her. I laughed at that. Folks, the sight of Gina in her police uniform was something I'd never forget. She looked hot enough to be a supermodel. We went dancing at a Reggae club and then watched the X-Files movie together at a theater near Boston Common. We walked hand in hand in the city. All people saw was a tall, good-looking black man walking around with a tall and exquisitely beautiful black woman. I must say I was happy to walk around with her.

Folks, I haven't had too much luck in the romance department. My last girlfriend was a black skank named Stephanie Parks. You know the type. A chickenhead with a big ass and big tits, but nothing in the way of manners or intelligence. Stephanie works as a secretary for a lawyer's office near my investment firm and I'd heard from one of the white guys next door that she gave great head. I asked her out and we hooked up a few times. I found out that she did give great head. However, she forgot to mention to me that she was a psycho. She began stalking me almost immediately after I broke off our relationship. She was good in bed but I couldn't stand a woman who cussed worse than an NYC cab driver. This bitch had absolutely no class. She was ghetto to the core.

Gina was the officer I talked to when I came to the Boston Police Department seeking a restraining order against my psychotic ex-girlfriend. Truth be told, I wasn't sure how the cops were going to deal with me. Even though I've got an MBA from Boston College and I used to be a college football star, I was still a black man living in America. The police are not friendly to the black man. They see him as the enemy. It doesn't matter what his accomplishments are. Also, the authorities are biased against men. They always take the woman's side over the man's because that's the way the feminists set up the system decades ago. Women falsely accuse men of wrongdoing every damn day and get away with it. Men who come forward with genuine claims are laughed at or ignored by the authorities. Isn't that a nice world we live in? All women who falsely accuse innocent men are worthless bitches and I don't care who disagrees with me. As you can imagine, I was a bit nervous about talking to a female police officer about my psychotic ex-girlfriend who was stalking me. Women tend to stick together. Especially when one of their own is doing something evil to an innocent man!

To my immense relief, Boston Police Officer Gina Dawson was unlike any woman I'd ever met. As I spoke to her about the scary messages my ex-girlfriend left on my cell phone and the dirty looks her girlfriends gave me whenever I ran into them, she listened carefully. When I finished with my spiel, she gently touched my hand and said she understood. I was surprised, to say the least. She told me to head to Boston Trial Court and seek a restraining order. She told me who to talk to, and to drop her name. I went and proceeded exactly as she told me. An hour and a half later, I left the court with a smile on my face. The court was going to serve a restraining order to my ex-girlfriend Stephanie Parks.

I went home, feeling a bit relieved. I went out to celebrate. I dropped by the Lotus Bar, a popular joint with young gay and bisexual men in the city. I ordered a drink. A Hennessee. Guess who walked in? Police officer Gina Dawson, clad in a red shirt, black leather pants and knee-high black leather boots. Oh, and she also wore a black fedora. I was stunned. The gal looked good enough to eat. Better than any supermodel I'd seen in ages. I waved at her and smiled. Gina noticed me, and grinned. She sat on the stool next to me. I offered her a drink but she declined. Insisted on paying for her own. That was surprising, to say the least. We began talking. And this, folks, is how it all began.

I learned a lot about Gina Dawson. She was a native of Atlanta and a graduate of Georgia Tech who moved to Boston three years ago. She enrolled at the Boston Police Academy and later joined the Boston Police Department. She was surprised to see me in a queer bar, said something about my not seeming the type. I smiled, and told her that I was bisexual. My own words surprised me. I haven't told anyone I was bisexual since a certain teammate outed me to my parents and coaches, costing me my chance of making it into the National Football League. For a black man, telling a black woman about his bisexuality isn't always a good idea. Black women aren't fond of bisexual black guys. However, once again, Gina proved to be the exception.

She looked at me for a long while, and sipped her drink. Then, she touched my hand and leaned closer, whispering something to me. I couldn't believe my ears. When Gina told me she was a transsexual, I was stunned. I've seen a few transsexuals in my day, as I've said before. There's almost always something that gives them away. Not this time. Gina looked prettier than most women I knew. She had a pretty face, a hot, curvy body and a fine, round and thick ass. Like popular singer Alicia Keys, but with the unique physique of professional athlete Venus Williams. Wow. I looked at her, and smiled. Wow. I squeezed her hand and told her I found her sexy. She grinned, and said she found me sexy too. We left the Lotus Bar together. The rest, as they say, was history.

Gina Dawson and I went back to my place, and made passionate love together. I won't get into too much detail but it was an eye-opener. It was hot. I finally found someone who enjoys my company and likes sex as much as I do. And the fact that I'm bisexual doesn't bother her none. She rather enjoys this side of me. We walk around the city together, admired by many who think we're the hottest black couple since Will and Jada. That always makes us smile. We get along fine, and we have a lot in common. I think my luck finally turned, folks. Life is good.

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