Black Mistress Versus White Wife

Hey, there. My name is Thomas Vladimir. I'm a big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I attend Carleton University, where I study business administration. I guess I'm bisexual, though I mainly prefer women. I explored my bisexual side when I was younger, and it turned out to be mere curiosity. My lady is aware of that and she's cool with it. These days, I'm dating a lovely gal named Meredith Saint-James. A six-foot-tall, red-haired, green-eyed and alabaster-skinned French Canadian woman. We're very happy together. I intend to marry her. My dear Meredith is studying business management at the Telfer School of the University of Ottawa. I see us as a power couple in the making. We look good together, we're educated and we got ambition to spare. A lot of good-looking, educated Black men at colleges and universities in Canada and America mainly date White women because Black women don't believe in us. Seriously, the sisters have turned their backs on us. White girls are a lot nicer to Black men than Black women nowadays.

Everybody knows this, hell, even White guys with Black girlfriends admit this shit. My good friend Antonio Pignatelli is Italian and he's dating a Black chick named Michelle Anderson. He's really into her but even he is appalled at the way she treats her male relatives and basically any Black guy she knows. Sometimes, he tells me, she appears to hate all men in general regardless of skin colour. Wow. Antonio told me he's afraid she might turn against him someday. I advised him to keep dating her and have his fun without making any long-term plans.

My good friend Antonio is a cool guy who attends York University near the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. I've known him for a while so as his friend, I don't want him to lose everything because he married some Black bitch with an attitude. You got to watch out for unpleasant Black chicks with an attitude problem. Hell, even my own Afro-centric mother Tina Vladimir disapproved of Stella, the arrogant Black chick I dated before I met my Caucasian darling Meredith. So don't blame me for wanting to marry outside my race, alright?

This thing called lust is a powerful thing, guys. Even though I'm happily engaged to a tall, pretty White woman, I still have spasms of lust where Black women are concerned. My heart belongs to my green-eyed White beauty queen. My dick is into anything that moves, and occasionally craves Black meat. And when that happens, I've got no choice but to feed it. I have chastised myself because I still lust after Black women. Seriously, I wish I could banish these sexual urges I get whenever I see a tall Black chick with a big ghetto booty.

That's the truth. However, evolution wired me that way so there's nothing I can do about it. One night, I was browsing through the back of Ottawa's deeply conservative newspaper which always showed the sunny side of life in the capital of Canada. I came across an escort ad. A gal with the moniker Ebony Goddess had left a telephone number and described herself as deeply sexual and extremely open-minded. I was curious so I dialed the number. The six one three area code pretty much guaranteed it to be an Ottawa phone number. Immediately someone picked up. A very pleasant-sounding female voice answered.

I introduced myself as Mr. Marcus, and asked the lady about her description and rates. Ebony Goddess described herself as a five-foot-nine, chocolate-skinned cutie with a heart-shaped booty. One hundred and seventy pounds of fun. Hmm. Sounds like she's got quite a body on her. I haven't been with a Black female in about three years so I was just about drooling over her. I asked her if she did in-calls or out calls. Meaning if she preferred to meet clients at her domicile or if she liked going out to meet clients at their apartments, hotels or whatever. Hmm. Sounds cool.

I asked her if she was into kinky stuff and if she had sex toys. Ebony Goddess told me that she was down for whatever. Hmm. I described myself as six-foot-one, 250-pounds, Black male professional. She chuckled softly and told me she could tell I was some type of businessman. When I asked her why she thought that, she told me I sounded like a White guy. Meaning that I spoke proper English. Well, duh! I'm in the Sprott Business School of Carleton University. I'm not some ghetto guy or wannabe thug. I'm one of a select few. A Black man who is highly educated, ambitious and motivated.

I'm not a damn statistic. Ebony Goddess calmly listened to my little speech, and then she told me her address. I got in my car and drove from my apartment on Innes Road to the Vanier sector. I drove up to Donald Street, and that's where I parked my car. I don't like Vanier. It's a seedy neighborhood. Oh, well. I parked my car near a mosque, figuring it would be safe because nobody messes with the tight-knit Muslim community in Ottawa. The Somalians and the Arabs stick together against us unbelievers. I walked to the door and dialed her again. She told me the buzzer number. I buzzed it and she buzzed me up. I walked up to apartment 117 ( my lucky number, by the way) and waited.

Moments later, the door opened and I was greeted by a tall, curvy Black woman in a bathrobe. I smiled and extended my hand for her to shake. Ebony Goddess smiled impassively and welcomed me inside. I took a look around after taking off my shoes. The apartment was really nice. Cool furniture. Paintings on the walls. Good stuff. Nicer than what I thought folks living in poor, downtrodden Vanier could afford. Ebony Goddess led me to a room and told me to make myself comfortable. Then she asked me for her 'tribute'. I handed her a Bank of Montreal envelope containing two hundred dollars. In her ad in the newspaper, she asked one hundred and twenty for the half hour and two hundred for the hour. I was okay with that. Sounds reasonable. I sat on the bed as Ebony Goddess counted the money, then she took off her bathrobe, revealing a very sexy body. We're talking about big tits, a curvy yet athletic body, wide hips and a big round ass here. She turned around and I admired her sexy ass. Nice. Real nice.

Ebony Goddess joined me on the bed, and I took off my White silk shirt and dark gray silk pants. Out sprang my dick. Eight inches, thick, and uncircumcised. Ebony Goddess asked me if I wanted head first and I nodded. Smiling, she leaned over and put a condom on my magic stick before sucking on it with gusto. I lay back and relaxed as the sexy Black chick went down on me. And man, she really sucked me good. Next, she climbed on top of me and impaled her neatly shaved pussy on my dick. I put my hands on her hips and thrust my dick deep into her snatch. Man, I hadn't had Black pussy in a long time and I wanted to make up for lost time. And so I did. I pumped my cock into her pussy like there was no tomorrow. Ebony Goddess screamed as I fucked her. Whether her screams were real or fake, I didn't know nor did I care. I'm here to get mine, folks. Besides, it's not like I'm ever likely to see her again. The last time I was near Vanier was 1999, and we're in the final months of 2011 now!

Later, I put Ebony Goddess on all fours and spanked her ass while fucking her. I asked her if she was okay with a little anal play and she was said she was down for whatever. I lubricated her asshole with the Aloe Cream she handed me, and I did my thing. I gently slid my cock into her asshole. Ebony Goddess was definitely no stranger to butt fucking. I fucked her ass and I did it happily. I fucked her because every time I see a bitchy Black woman who happens to have both a negative attitude and a big butt, I wanted to fuck her in the ass. I rammed my cock into her asshole, and she screamed. It sounded like a real scream too, none of that fake, scripted-sounding shit. I put her on her back and raised her legs in the air because I wanted to look into her eyes as I fucked her in the ass. Hmm. Her eyes were wide open. Some women got that faraway look in their eyes when you're doing them. It lets you know that they're probably thinking of something else the entire time. Not this chick. She was into it. As I plunged my dick deeper inside her asshole, she actually begged me for more. Now that's the kind of bitch I like!

Yeah, I had my fun. Then I asked her if she wanted to get kinky. We still had twenty five minutes left and she was cool. I watched as Ebony Goddess donned the strap-on dildo and looked at me cockily. I grinned and knelt before her. I began sucking on her strap-on dildo. It's weird, you know? I can't stand bossy, arrogant Black women for the way they treat us Black men. However, in my sexual fantasies, I sometimes fantasize about being dominated by a Black woman. Yet my fiancée is White. I haven't dated a White woman in years. I don't do more than say hi and bye to Black women at school or at work. I don't do the buddy thing with them. They're all mean as hell. Why should I even bother? Yet my attraction to them remains. Ebony Goddess made me suck her strap-on dildo. I told her to call me names, to act like the stereotypical, mean-as-hell and Black-man-hating bitches from the hood.

Ebony Goddess stared at me blankly. For several seconds, the sexy Black female escort actually said nothing. She seemed surprised, but she played the part to perfection. Ebony Goddess shoved me on all fours and took me, face down and ass up. She smacked my ass, called me names and shoved her strap-on dildo so far up my Black ass, I'm surprised it didn't come out of my mouth. I told her to fuck me roughly and she did, plunging the dildo into the depths of my asshole. To me, that's what a Black fucking should feel like. Intense, powerful and downright dangerous. Black women at their best. Always fun to fuck or be fucked by but seldom fun to live with if you're Black and male. Isn't that the awful truth? Ebony Goddess really got into bossy dominatrix mode. She put me on my back, smacked me around and even spat on me while ravaging my ass with her dildo. I totally loved it. It was awesome. I definitely got my money's worth.

Afterwards, I showered and left after thanking Ebony Goddess for a wonderful time. I went home to my lovely French Canadian fiancée. I made sweet and tender love to my red-haired and green-eyed White goddess. I kissed Meredith tenderly after making love to her and she fell asleep in my arms. We're getting married in February 2012. Her father is a senior executive with the Quebecor Media Corporation and she's going to work for them right after graduating from the University of Ottawa's Telfer Business Management program in December 2011. As for me, I've got a job offer from a certain Toronto-based civil engineering company whose owners actually hail from the City of Atlanta, Georgia. The owner of the company is Black American.

My future wife and I are going to be really happy and successful together. Any sons and daughters we have will grow up in an upper-middle-class household. They'll attend the best colleges or universities in North America. That means Concordia University, McGill University or McMaster University in Canada. Or perhaps Harvard University or Princeton in America. Yeah, I've got it all planned out. I love my sexy French Canadian wife. I love her red hair. I love her green eyes. I love her calm, friendly mindset. I love her shiny alabaster skin. I love her pedigree. I love everything about her. Yet at night, sometimes, I dream of the Ebony Goddess. Isn't that a blip?