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Bad Romance At Carleton U

12

When a man stops lying to himself and rejects the lies told to him by others, he will find life much simpler. My name is Charles Joseph. My friends call me C.J. and I'm a young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born far from Canada, in the Caribbean island of Haiti. My folks and I moved to Canada eleven years ago. I'm twenty two years old and study chemistry at Carleton University. I was brought up in the Seventh-Day Adventist faith, one of the stricter Christian doctrines out there. Being who and what I am, and having a religious upbringing haven't made my life easy. I know that many will judge me for this but I must be true to myself.

My parents, Hubert and Stephanie Joseph always stressed the importance of faith and hard work in our lives. I will always love them and treasure their advice, no matter what. My dad works as a security guard and my mother works as a cashier at LobLaw's. She was once a schoolteacher in the Republic of Haiti. My folks sacrificed everything to make sure that my brother Ernest and I had a better future. My older brother Ernest preceded me by four years, and he's always been the alpha male in the family. He used to rock the football team at Saint Augustine Academy, and since he was six-foot-four, athletic and strong, ladies always flocked to him. He studied Law at Ottawa University, and now works for a big law firm in the City of Toronto. Ernest recently married a tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed Irish gal named Maeve O'Neill who he met while visiting old fraternity friends in the City of Calgary, Province of Alberta. Ernest and Maeve make a cute couple if you ask me. They're both tall and athletic, educated and driven. She's a civil engineering contractor and he's a lawyer. Sounds like a power couple to me but you can't say that to our parents, especially my mother.

There is an ugly double standard in the Black community. To most Black women, the union of a White male and a Black female is something to celebrate, but Black male and White female relationships are something they loathe and dread. Somehow, that seems perfectly fair in their minds. When my cousin Astrid married a French-Canadian guy named Jacques, the women in our family celebrated but my mother threatened to boycott my brother's wedding until dad set her straight. I told my mom that her hatred for White women in relationships with Black men made her a racist but she laughed it off, saying that Black people couldn't be resist. The logic in her reasoning escapes me, but what do I know? I'm only her son. After Ernest married Maeve, my mother grew increasingly distant toward the two of them. She said that Ernest was rejecting her along with all of Black womanhood by marrying "that White bitch". Also, for the first time in what seems like forever, my mother seemed to notice that I existed. She began taking an urgent interest in what I was doing, who I was seeing. I found that...puzzling. In hindsight, I should have realized why she took such a sudden interest in me. Until he married the White lady, Ernest had been the apple of mom's eye while I was an afterthought at best. Now, he was dead to her due to his choice of spouse, and she focused on her only other option, yours truly. Small wonder I've got issues.

If there's one thing I don't like, it's unwanted attention. You see, for most of my life, I've always been a fiercely private person. I learned early on that I was different, though for the life of me I couldn't tell you why. I've always been the guy who comes up with the most brilliant ideas in class and in church, but learned to tone it down because many resented me for it. Thinking outside the box, coming up with radical new ways of looking at existing issues and problems, that's me. People like me seldom have an easy time in this life, so I learned to hide in the name of survival. Smart people get bullied at school, forward-thinking people get shut out in church. The human species doesn't like those who are different, it seems. How does one survive and thrive in such a hostile environment?

I needed an outlet, so I turned to writing fiction. I wrote bold, provocative fiction exploring the kinds of themes most Black male writers didn't dare venture into. Interracial relationships, same-sex relationships, Black male heroism in science fiction and horror stories, those were common themes in my writing. One day I put together all of my best short stories and it turned into a five-hundred-page anthology of original fiction. I didn't tell my friends and family about it because I knew they wouldn't be supportive. Instead, I told my favorite teacher, Miss Jill Ellis, a White lady who taught business mathematics at Saint Augustine Academy during my senior year. She really liked my stories and encouraged me to seek a publisher. I found a publisher online, and they asked for a copy of my manuscript. Being naturally shrewd as a result of dealing with unpleasant people who either stifled or abused creativeness, I copyrighted my stuff both in America and Canada before sending it to the publisher. I was just covering all bases, you know?

One day, I received a letter in the mail. From the good folks of Golden Horizon Publishing. They were offering me a contract for the anthology I titled Tales of Infinity. They wanted to retitle it The Black Canadian Science Fiction Omnibus. Since they were the ones taking a chance on an unknown writer, i.e. me, I went along with their suggestion. Thus, I found myself published. The book would come out later during my first year at Carleton University. At my new school, I experienced a brand new world. Even though my family lives in a decent house in Orleans, not far from downtown Ottawa, I chose to live in the dormitories at Carleton University. I just wanted to get away from mommy dearest. I love my mother, she gave me life but...sheesh, if you met her you'd understand. I think my dad feels the same way about her because he doesn't seem to spend a lot of time with her either. He's always out with friends. Doesn't bode well for their marriage but whatever. She's always hanging out with her church friends, or she's at Algonquin College taking this course or that one. She recently became a manager at the downtown branch of Loblaw's and has become insufferable since she got promoted. I got out of the house just in time.

At Carleton University, I finally felt free. As in free to be myself. I had a room to myself instead of having to share it with some random guys I didn't know, which was cool. I decided to study chemistry because I always excelled at science in high school and chemistry is something that I understand and feel passionate about. Carleton was a very different environment from what I was used to at Saint Augustine Academy. I was one of maybe forty or fifty Black students among the thousand or so students at that elite private school. And most of the Black students were chicks. Elitist, preppy Black chicks. How did I get into a school like that since I'm a poor Black dude? I was smart enough to win a scholarship. I also won an academic scholarship to study at Carleton University. See? It pays to be a Black nerd. The thugs and the athletic guys aren't all that. After all, Barack Obama did get himself elected President of the U.S.A. and he was a bookworm, not an NBA player. If more Black guys hit the books instead of doing the thug/macho posturing/I'm-allergic-to-school thing to impress women and their buddies, the world would be a better place. Just my two cents.

I met a lot of Black students at Carleton University, though most of them came from places like Djibouti, Jamaica, Somalia, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Brazil, Ghana, and even the good old United States of America. I think I am the only Haitian student at Carleton University, but that's okay. I wanted to reinvent myself and change my life. I met a tall, pretty young Black woman named Avalina Adewale and we began dating. Ava comes from the town of Kano in the Republic of Nigeria, where there are constant clashes between Christians and Muslims. She's vice president of the group Christendom on campus, and seemed to be sharp, pretty and interesting. I was drawn to her. In high school, I wasn't a big hit with the ladies. I had invisible man syndrome. Four years and I could count the number of dates I've had on one hand. I always seemed to like chicks who were interested in other guys. Or crazy chicks. I prayed that my luck would improve in university.

At first, things were fine between Ava and I. Finally I was going out with a tall, fine sister with a good head on her shoulders who seemed to appreciate a good Black man. And I am a good Black man. I'm smart, I go to church, I'm in school, I come from a good family and I stay out of trouble. I don't have any offspring and I don't have a criminal record. Hell, I've never even gotten a speeding ticket. Granted, my parents rarely let me drive the car and even then, only to go run errands for them. Ava was fun, and fearless. I remember one time we went dining at a Chinese restaurant and the waitress made us wait a long time while she served even people who walked in after we did. I was growing bored but Ava got up and walked up to the tiny Chinese waitress. She read her the riot act, man. The waitress apologized, and asked Ava what she wanted. Ava coldly told her to "ask her man" first. Wow. Ava referred to me as her man. How about that?

I was really fond of that gal, though she did weird me out by pulling away when I tried to kiss her. However, she surprised me by kissing me in the parking lot, moments later. I was blown away. Yeah, I was definitely into her. I thought we might really have something. And then this guy named Mohammed Abdullah came along. He was tall and athletically built, born of a Hindu mother and Afghan father. He was president of the Interfaith Alliance at school, and he set his sights on Avalina. Given how strongly anti-Islam Ava was after her experiences with them in Kano City, Nigeria, I thought Mohammed wouldn't stand a chance with her. When she told me that she'd fallen in love with Mohammed a few weeks after meeting him, the weekend we were celebrating our three-month anniversary, I was crushed. When it rains, it fucking pours, eh? Isn't love grand, ladies and gentlemen?

My heart ached but I had to move on. No sense chasing a woman who doesn't want you. Avalina made her choice and as much as it pained me, I had to respect it. I chose to focus on school and work, even though my heart was torn every time I saw Ava and Mohammed walking through campus together, holding hands. Arab guys are notorious womanizers, and many of them see women as property but many western women keep falling for their tricks. I knew that Mohammed's thing with Ava wouldn't last. With guys like that, it's all about the thrill of the chase. Of course, when Mohammed left Avalina for a White chick named Brittany, I could have said I told you so but I didn't. Besides, I had other matters on my mind. I received a copy of my book from the publisher. On the cover there was a tall young Black man in a spacesuit, wielding an energy gun. In the background there was a spaceship, an assorted crew of men and women in "future" gear squaring off against some monsters. On the back cover, there was a picture of me wearing a suit and a little blurb about me, Charles Joseph. I was beyond happy, man! I was finally published! Oh, and attached to the book was a cheque for seven thousand five hundred and eighty six dollars with my name on it. How about that?

I was feeling really good, ladies and gentlemen. I ran into Ava and she told me she wanted to talk but I very politely and coldly told her that I had other things to do. Throw me away for a piece of trash like Mohammed, and you're deleted from my list, lady. God forgives and so do I, but I NEVER forget. I deposited the cheque in my Scotia Bank account, almost giving a heart attack to the lady behind the counter at the downtown branch of the institution. It's not every day that a six-foot-one, big and tall brother like myself deposits such a cheque. I didn't tell any of my friends or family members. If you're not with me when I struggle, I don't want you with me when I'm having a good time. I did call my former teacher Ms. Ellis to tell her of my good fortune. A guy I didn't answered her phone at the Saint Augustine Academy administrative office, and told me that she passed on a month ago. I felt like shit. The only person who ever believed in me died and I didn't know. The guy told me she died of breast cancer. I donated five hundred dollars to the Susan G. Komen breast cancer foundation in her name. Jill Ellis, a White lady from the City of Amarillo, Texas, who moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, to teach at a private Catholic school. I would never forget her. Why are good people always the first to die?

I sat there in my dorm, thinking about life in general. Jill Ellis was tall and fit, and she used to teach gym class because Mr. Armando, the gym teacher, was close to retirement and they needed someone else to fill in until they found someone permanent. I really liked her. That's when I realized that death could come for any of us at any time. I couldn't simply wait to do things. I had to get them done now. I was a freshman at university and still a virgin. That is simply not cool if you're Black and male. No, Ava never gave me any play beyond kissing and having petting while we went out. I wanted to lose my virginity. How, when I'm not dating anybody? I browsed the back pages of the Ottawa Sun newspaper, and found a promising ad. A lady referring to herself as Ebony Candy left her number there and promised an unforgettable good time. Hmmm. We shall see about that, Miss Ebony.

I showered and then called the number. I was nervous as hell. All kinds of scenarios ran through my mind. What if the number wasn't real? What if Ebony Candy was really an undercover cop and I got arrested? Shit. Was this really worth it? A sexy female voice answered after three rings. I willed myself to be calm and introduced myself as Steve. I asked her if she was into kinky stuff and she told me she was down for whatever. Her rates were three hundred dollars for ninety minutes of fun. That's alright. She was staying at a hotel downtown. I went to the ATM located inside the university center at Carleton then grabbed the number four bus leaving campus. I got off shortly before the bus got at Rideau Center, and bought some condoms at a nearby pharmacy. Then I walked to the hotel. I called Ebony Candy's number and she told me to ask to be let onto the eight floor, room six zero six. My heart thundered in my chest. The concierge, a short red-haired White chick somewhat reluctantly let me up. I went up the elevator, feeling like my heart might leap from my chest.

Finally, it got to the sixth floor and I walked to door number six zero six. I knocked twice, and heard footsteps. A young Black woman with a really cute face and big tits greeted me. Hello Steve, she said. I smiled with more confidence than I felt, said hello and politely asked her if I could come inside. She nodded, and let me in. before anything, Ebony Candy wanted her money, which I promptly handed to her. She also told me that she had some ground rules. No crazy stuff, no extreme roughness, no kissing and no anal sex. Oh, and condoms were mandatory, not optional. I nodded, and told her all that sounded reasonable. She smiled and motioned for me to get on the bed, then began undressing. Off came her gray T-shirt and sweatpants, revealing a sexy naked body. The gal had it going on, man. Nice tits. Sexy legs. And a big ass.

Ebony Candy asked me if I liked what I saw and I nodded. Grinning, she told me to remove my clothes and I did. For a moment there I panicked, thinking my dick wouldn't work but the more I looked at her, the more turned on I became. I put on a condom, and Ebony Candy joined me on the bed. She went straight for my dick, and began sucking it with gusto. I lay on the bed, trying to relax as she worked her magic on me. I lay there, thinking about all the times I masturbated while fantasizing about sexy, big-bottomed Black females. And now I had one in a hotel room going down on me. Nice! After she finished sucking me, Ebony Candy asked me what I wanted to do next. I asked her to get on top of me and she did, lowering herself onto me. She took my cock and guided it into her pussy. I smiled. Hell yeah, I'm not a virgin anymore! Ebony Candy placed her hands on my shoulders and began riding me.

I looked up, and admired the beautiful young Black woman riding me. Ebony Candy winked at me as she rode me. I asked her if I could touch her tits and she said yes. Grinning, I gently squeezed them. All the stuff I wanted to do for years but could never get a chick to let me do. I fucked her like this for a good while, then asked her if she was into ass worship. She smiled and nodded, and I was delighted as she sat on my face, squeezing my face between her ass cheeks. Mercifully her ass was clean. I kissed her butt, man, and I loved it. Afterwards, I took her from behind. Watching her big chocolate ass bounce under the force of my thrusts made me feel like a king. I'm not a big dick dude, but I am long, and uncut. I made good use of what I got, but fuck it, I came a little beyond halfway through our session. Ebony Candy seemed ready to call it a day, but I had other ideas. We still had twenty five minutes left.

Ebony Candy smiled and asked me if I wanted to do something else. I nodded at the dildo on her nightstand, and she giggled. I grinned and got on all fours, and Ebony Candy got behind me. She put a condom on the dildo and pushed it into my asshole, after lubricating me of course. I grimaced as Ebony Candy pushed the dildo into my ass. I masturbated countless times while watching videos of women fucking men in the ass with strap-on dildos online. It's one of my top fantasies. It felt really good to have a dildo in my ass and amazingly, my dick got hard again even though I came. Ebony Candy reached under me and stroked my cock while fucking my ass with the dildo. I groaned as she fucked me, burying my face in the pillow and loving every minute of what she was doing to me. I came, LOUDLY, for the second time that afternoon.

I lay there on the bed, stunned by the sheer fucking that Ebony Candy laid on me. The sexy Black gal smiled and asked me if I was okay. I was so happy that I suddenly hugged her, and kissed her neck. Thank you, I said. She smiled and nodded. I asked her if I was the first Black man she fucked in the ass with a dildo. She smiled and shook her head. I grinned, and told her I'd love to see her again. I asked her to save my number, and told her that I was very respectful and decent, and we could have a good time together whenever she was in town. She grinned and nodded, saving my number on her Blackberry. I put my clothes back on and so did she. I gathered the condoms, and flushed them down the toilet. I headed for the door, and for some reason, I grabbed her hand and kissed it again. Ebony Candy smiled and wished me a good afternoon, then closed the door. I left the hotel, feeling like a million bucks. Man, I felt GREAT!

I walked back to the Rideau Shopping Center, and was about to pay my cellphone bill at the FIDO shop when a voice hailed me. I turned around, wondering who was hollering my name. A pretty blonde-haired and green-eyed, petite white chick smiled at me. She looked familiar but I couldn't tell you her name to save my life. Hello Chuck, she said. She rolled her eyes and asked me if I remembered her. I smiled politely. Maybe I knew her from Carleton University, I thought. The mystery gal introduced herself as Allison Albright, and I suddenly remembered her. She was in the science club at Saint Augustine Academy. I smiled as she gave me a brief hug. I'm getting a lot of hugs today. What's different? Oh, yeah. I ain't a virgin anymore. Allison smiled and told me there was something different about me. I told her that I was just living life and feeling free. Now I was slowly remembering her particulars. Allison Albright graduated from S.A.A. last year, and I recalled she wanted to study at Boston University in Massachusetts, USA. What was she doing back in little old Ottawa?

12
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