tagInterracial LoveA Good Black Man In Ottawa

A Good Black Man In Ottawa

bySamuelx©

My name is Romania Tremblay, and I'm a young woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born in the town of Moncton, Province of New Brunswick, but raised in the Capital region of Canada. I have often been told that I cut an imposing figure. I stand six feet two inches tall, slim and fit, with long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. I am one hundred and ten percent French Canadian, with all that implies. These days, I study Criminology at Carleton University, and life simply couldn't be better. Sometimes I miss my hometown of Moncton but the City of Ottawa is alright. It's not about the size of the town where you live, it's what you make of it.

A lot of people think that just because I am a member of the Conservative Party of Canada means that I am a racist. I guess they don't understand what being conservative is all about. To me, being conservative means embracing responsibility while fighting for liberty. The Confederation of Canada is a beautiful country, but lately, we've been letting in the wrong element. Look at the violence that has been unleashed upon Canada lately. We are so not ready to deal with the consequences of letting in people who don't share Canada's values and principles. So we've been shutting the door on immigration lately and I feel that it's a bit of a backlash against immigrants because while most of them are decent, a disturbingly high number of them cause trouble in our cities and communities.

Recently in the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario, a young Black man who recently graduated university and a young Black woman who was a promising athlete were gunned down at a block party slash barbecue by some thugs. Before that, a young Somali guy got gunned down in the City of Calgary, Province of Alberta. He was killed probably by someone from his own background. A while ago, an Arab man, his wife and his son were convicted of murder in the Honor Killing of their three "westernized" daughters. They drowned the poor girls in a car. Can you believe that? A lot of people danced around the topics of Honor Killings and Islam out of political correctness. Even while the trial was going on. Thankfully, they got convicted and locked up for life.

What amazes me is the political correctness even prosecutors displayed while the Arab couple and their son were on trial for killing their westernized female family members. I don't believe in bullshit, ladies and gentlemen. Let's call a spade a spade, shall we? In Islam, Honor Killings do happen and ninety nine percent of the time, the victims are female. If a Muslim man wants to sleep around with random women, get drunk and have wicked fun, his family sees absolutely nothing wrong with that. If a Muslim woman wants to go out, dress sexy, party and have a good time, her family might kill her for that. Do you see the double standard? And they call it the religion of peace. Not for me, thank you very much.

In hindsight, I feel sorry for all those White women who join a religion they don't truly understand based on lies told by them by the Arab guys and Black Muslim men who seduce them. Thanks but no thanks. I know exactly how those guys operate. First they seduce you, then they get you to join their cult. Once in, you can't get out. Any Muslim who wants to leave Islam must be killed for the Crime of Apostasy, that's the Law according to them. Wow, really? My pasty White ass is staying proudly Catholic, end of story. I would never voluntarily choose to live in a damn cage, thank you. I am a western woman. Loud and proud. I can be a soldier. I can be a firefighter. I can be a prime minister or a president. I can be a church bishop or pastor. I can wear a bikini, a police uniform, and a nun's outfit, all in the same bloody day. I don't bow down to stupid rules made by men who fear us women for our sexuality and power. Any woman who voluntarily joins a cult dedicated to destroying women while uplifting abusive, controlling men deserves whatever happens to her. The weak deserve their fate!

I have strong views, and a lot of people disagree with me. Since I don't believe in compromise, it makes for a lonely existence. I seldom go out even though I'm tall and sexy, and guys tend to flock to me. I have to know where a man stands before I go anywhere with him. It's for my safety as a woman who won't compromise who she is or what she believes in for any man. I believe in feminism, and I only respect men who respect women and respect themselves. Sorry if that means I am too strong or too difficult for the average male living in Canadian society in the twenty-first century. I have a set schedule for how I manage my time. I attend Conservative Students Association meetings twice a week. Sometimes I go to the movies with my girlfriends Ashley and Nicole. Other times I sit around in my apartment, writing short fiction. I go to church twice a week, and I also volunteer for Catholic Charities. Like I said, I hang onto what I believe in.

Not going to lie, loneliness filled my days until I finally met a kindred spirit. A tall, handsome young Black man named James Guillaume walked into the Catholic Charities office one fine Monday morning. This guy was at least six-foot-four, well-built and strong-looking. Dressed in a white silk shirt, red tie and black silk pants, he looked good enough to eat. James Guillaume was a student at the University of Ottawa School of Law, and he was looking to do some volunteering. Hmmm. Like every woman at the office with the exception of Monica, the butch lesbian security guard from Securitas, I was impressed by James good looks. I gave him a tour of the place, and got to know him a bit.

James Guillaume was born in the town of Cap-Haitien, somewhere in the island of Haiti. His family moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, eighteen months after his birth. He grew up in our fair Capital, and attended Saint Augustine Academy, a private Christian school. After that, he enrolled at the University of Ottawa. He wanted to be a lawyer someday, like his grandfather Boris Guillaume once was, a long time ago in the Caribbean. He's tall, cute, a devoted Christian, and he's got ambition and a degree. Where do I sign up to get someone like him? James and I were going to be the best of friends for sure.

Over the next few weeks, James and I got to know each other. He told me about his plan to someday defend poor people who couldn't afford good attorneys. We had a lot of the same beliefs. We were both hardline Christians who never apologized for our views. Judeo-Christian values and beliefs must prevail in Europe, America, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. Otherwise, all is lost. I've seen what Islam does to a country. In northern Nigeria, the Muslims are slaughtering the Christians. What a bunch of fools. I wonder if Nigerian Muslims know that the Arab world sees all Black people as inferior regardless of religious affiliation? It probably wouldn't bother them because they're so stupid and brainwashed.

This might surprise some naïve Black Muslims reading this, but the Arabs are more racist than us Europeans. In the continent of Europe of today, a Black man or an Arab man can marry a White woman. It's up to her who she marries. In the Arab world, only Arab men can marry Arab women. Black Muslim men aren't allowed to marry Arab women because of Arab racism. Even if an Arab woman loved a Black man she couldn't be with him because of Arab Male Jealousy and Insecurity. They would kill her in a heartbeat. Black people should leave Islam and embrace Christianity. We are more tolerant of interracial unions and human rights. To the Arab, the Black man will always be a slave and the Black woman will always be a sexual conquest. Nothing more and nothing less. Unfortunately, they have their heads in the sand. Fools.

James was definitely a kindred soul, and I liked that about him. He was also quite charming. He asked me out for dinner and a movie, and I had a blast. We watched The Dark Knight Rises at the Blair Cineplex, and afterwards, we grabbed a quick bite inside East Side Mario's restaurant. Walking through the Saint Laurent Shopping Center with James, my arm linked with his, I felt happier than I had in months. When the evening concluded, he walked me to my car, we parted after a chaste kiss on the lips and a hug. He is such a gentleman. I like that about him. And you had better believe that I wanted to see him again.

I went home, feeling thoroughly smitten with this tall, dark and handsome Black stud. I called him as soon as I got home, and we ended up spending two hundred and seventy seven minutes on the phone that night. I really wanted to know more about this man. For starters, why was he single? James seemed hesitant to venture there, so I pressed on. I couldn't help it. I think I was smelling blood. James told me about his last girlfriend, a pretty Jamaican chick named Arianna Julie Anderson. They met at the Terry Fox movie theater, and went out for several months before he realized that they weren't right for each other. Arianna Julie Anderson simply couldn't let anyone into her heart. Apparently she'd been burned too many times. In the end, he left her. She was gorgeous, smart and had a lot going on for her like her Laval University civil engineering degree, among other things, but their relationship simply couldn't be salvaged. I could tell that James was still sad over it, and I tried my best to be supportive. Black women are always whining that all the good Black men are taken and this chick just let one go. Oh, well. Her loss is my incredible gain.

I reassured James that he was fine, cute and smart, and that any woman ought to count herself lucky to know him. Arianna Julie Anderson was a dumb bitch, pure and simple. I told James about one of my romantic disasters. I was dating a charming Hispanic guy named Miguel last year, and he turned out to have both a wife and a boyfriend. Yeah, Miguel the macho Hispanic guy from El Salvador was bisexual and cheating on his wife with me and some guy named Jose. I got nothing against bisexual men, since I'm friends with many gay and bisexual people of all races. However, I don't like liars and cheaters. That's some real Jerry Springer stuff right there. James and I laughed at that, and I smiled. James had a nice laugh. We kept talking until the wee hours of the morning, then I wished him goodnight. I lay on my bed and got a good night's sleep for the first time in ages. I finally met a good man, and he's going to be mine.

The next time James and I saw each other, I treated him to a fun excursion. We grabbed a bite inside the Rideau shopping center, then went to the nearby adult movie store. I bought some sexy outfits and a pair of toys while James got some DVDs. I was having a lot of fun corrupting this church-going Haitian lad, and he seemed to enjoy what I was doing to him. I like a strong, masculine man who lets his woman take the lead. When I led James to my apartment, he brooked no objections. Once there, I set his world on fire, ladies and gentlemen. Before meeting James, I spent six months without sex. A horny French gal like me has to get her kicks in every now and then otherwise I'd go crazy, you know?

I lay on the king-sized bed, completely naked, with my legs spread. James lay there, licking my pussy like it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. James fingered my cunt and licked it good, sending little waves of pleasure coursing through me. I moaned in pleasure as the handsome Haitian stud licked me good. Where did he learn to lick pussy so damn well? He's so good it's almost scary. Guy must have been a lesbian in a past life or something. When I could take no more, he intensified things, thrusting his fingers deep inside of me while teasing my clitoris with his tongue. He sent me into nirvana and I shouted loudly as I came, squealing in orgasmic delight. Oh, man. This Haitian man has got the magic touch!

I took a minute to catch my breath, then told James I wanted to return the favor. The sexy Haitian stud smiled as I grabbed his member, and stroked it. James dick was normal in length but extra thick. Also, he was uncircumcised. I love uncircumcised men. Especially uncut men of Black or Hispanic descent. I knelt before James and took his member into my mouth. He ran his hands through my long blonde hair, murmuring soft words to me as I went down on him. I cupped his balls while sucking his dick head after gently pulling back the foreskin. Islam and Judaism mandate that all men be butchered in the name of mindless traditions but I like my men uncut. What's wrong with being natural? circumcision is dumb and pointless.

I sucked James's dick, loving the way it felt and tasted in my mouth. My handsome Haitian stud closed his eyes as I worked my magic on him, and let me do my thing. I sucked him until he shouted that he was about to cum. Go ahead, I dared him with my eyes. I took that nut and swallowed it all without spilling a single drop. I looked up at James and smiled. He smiled back, and pulled me to him. His cock was still hard as hell and he wanted to fuck me. I don't swing without a condom. James groaned, nodded, and put a condom on his dick as I climbed on top of him.

James looked at me with a combination of lust and admiration in his eyes as I lowered myself onto him. I grabbed his dick and put him inside of me. Winking at him, I began riding him. His cock was firmly sheathed inside my pussy, burning me from the inside out and I loved it. James put his strong hands upon my hips and pumped his cock into me. Fastening his lips on my hips, he sucked on them and smacked my ass while fucking me. I cursed like a sailor and urged him to fuck me good. James pounded me good and hard for a couple of hours, until we lay exhausted next to each other, sweaty and happy, on my very soaked bed. I smiled as James took my hand and kissed it. He's such a sweetie. As he gathered me into his arms before we went to sleep, I realized something. This one just might be a keeper.

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bySamuelx© 7 comments/ 7241 views/ 0 favorites

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