tagFetishBlack On Black Pegging: Hump Day

Black On Black Pegging: Hump Day

bySamuelx©

I got off the number eighteen bus, and walked to the brownstone building at the edge of the park in Vanier, Ontario. I'm dressed to the nines in a bright red tank top, short Black skirt and thigh-high Black leather boots. At five-foot-nine with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale green eyes, curves where it counts and a nice round bottom, I look pretty damn good. We're in April and it's still mad cold outside but that's okay. Got to look good for my man, you know? In case you're wondering who this is, my name is Lynnette Jeanne Crowley, and I'm a young woman of Haitian and Irish-Canadian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Today, I'm surprising the hell out of my guy, Stephen Eugene.

I met Stephen while working on a paper inside the Carleton University library in the winter of 2012. He was working on a paper for his Criminology class and asked me to help him with in-text citations. We talked for a bit and eventually exchanged numbers, and afterwards we became friends. At the time, he was going out with a Somali chick named Farah Muhammad and I was dating this White dude named Stanley O'Neill. Stephen and I kept in touch, and I must admit I found myself attracted to this tall, dark and handsome stud but I had another man in my life and I'm not a ho so, there. When my relationship with Stanley ended, Stephen was there for me. Now that I think about it, Stanley and I simply weren't meant to be. I like my men just like I like my coffee, hot, strong and Black. That's what I'm into and I'm sticking to it, thank you very much.

A person's origins and upbringing have a lot to do with how they see the world. Take me for example. My mother, Janice Etienne-Crowley, left the island of Haiti for the province of Nova Scotia, Canada, in 1987. A year later, at the University of Halifax she met my father, Liam Crowley, and they fell in love, got hitched and had little old me. They split three years later, and I honestly don't know what it's like to have a father because my dad is a total stranger to me. I've seen him about five or ten times in my entire life. He didn't care to be there for me and honestly, my mother didn't want him around either. She referred to him as a coward due to his refusal to stand up to his racist family on her behalf.

People often tell me that I look a lot like my father. I consider that a mixed blessing, pun intended. I get my green eyes, light skin color and straight hair from him, I guess. I get my fierceness of character and my natural fearlessness from my mother. She raised me by herself because, well, daddy didn't care. My father's family never thought much of my mother and they actively discouraged him from being with her while they were dating. There's a lot of racism in Canada, even though most Canadians would never admit it. I was born and raised in Nova Scotia so I know. Even though I've never left Canada, I am often asked where I came from by Canadians of Caucasian descent. White people never get asked that annoying and politically loaded question even if they're fresh off the plane from Europe and don't know Jack about Canada. My response is to reply in a slick tone, asking them where in hell they're from. If you ask me, everyone in Canada is an immigrant. Unless you're a Native or Aboriginal person. Take that, you silly bigots!

As much as I love and cherish my mother, she has an eschewed view of the world that I simply do not share. In mom's eyes, White men are kings and Black men aren't worth shit. She considers Black men to be deadbeats and crooks. Never mind that my White father never spent a dime on me without being forced to do so by the Canadian Justice System. A couple hundred dollars a month, that's all we got from him while I was a minor. No birthday presents, no trips to the zoo, none of the stuff people who care usually do with their sons and daughters. Me? When I meet a man, I evaluate him based on his character, how he looks at the world, and how he sees me as opposed to his skin tone. That's why my ex-boyfriend Stanley and I couldn't work out. The dude would make certain racial comments about minorities, especially Black men, around me and he'd act surprised when I told him I found these comments offensive. Eventually I got fed up with his sorry ass and dumped him.

After splitting with Stanley, I decided to focus on school and work as opposed to my social life. I'm a Political Science major at Carleton University and I want to work for the Canadian government someday. I cursed myself for wasting nine months of my life with Stanley, a guy who was decidedly unworthy of me. That's why when Stephen asked me out, I happily said yes. Stephen Eugene definitely intrigued me. This six-foot-three, lean and athletic brother is originally from Montreal, Quebec. Like me, he's mixed-race. I could tell by his light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale bronze eyes. His father Joseph Eugene is originally from the town of Quartier Morin in the island of Haiti and his mother Isabella Abdullah is a Lebanese Christian immigrant. Wow, this dude is half Black and half Arab. I've seen plenty of Black women with Arab guys but Arab women who date Black men are rare.

I was mystified by Stephen. The guy was smart, sexy and easygoing. He seemed to have recovered nicely from his breakup with that Somali girlfriend of his who left him because he wouldn't convert to Islam. Although I tried to appear sympathetic to Stephen as he dealt with the aftermath of the breakup, inside I rejoiced because I found this guy sexy and really awesome. Sorry that he went and got his heart broken but I was more than happy to pick up the pieces. That's why I showed up at his house today, looking like this. You should have seen the look on Stephen's face when he saw me. Dude was fresh out of the shower, in his bathrobe. Grinning, I planted a kiss on those sweet-looking lips of his and then he ushered me inside.

Even though Stephen had been wining and dining me for several months, we hadn't done more than kiss, hug and hold hands. Well, today I wanted some of his fine chocolaty goodness. I kissed him full and deep, then we began undressing each other. I feasted my eyes on his fine, muscular body. Hot damn, nothing like a sexy Black man's body in this universe! Stephen caressed my breasts and smacked my ass, and I playfully smacked his hand. Gently he took me in his arms and lowered me on the bed. Once there, he kissed me all over, paying special attention to my tits. He sucked on the areolas, teasing me with his tongue and I grinned, urging him to continue.

Stephen kissed a path from my breasts to my navel, sticking his tongue inside my belly button before spreading my thighs wide. My pussy already wet was totally exposed. He looked at me, winked and then went to work on me. I closed my eyes as Stephen gently teased my clitoris with his tongue before sticking his tongue inside of me, followed by his nimble fingers. I cried out in pleasure as he worked his magic on me, triggering an intense orgasm. Man, I hadn't known I could cum easily like that. For real. Stephen smiled at me and told me I hadn't felt anything yet. Then he went back to eating my pussy. I lay there, relaxing and enjoying myself as he extracted squeals of delight and cries of deliciously hot pain mixed with pleasure out of me. Yeah, the dude has skills, okay?

Stephen let me take a breather, then asked me if I was ready for him. He stroked his long and thick, uncircumcised ebony dick and I licked my lips hungrily. Come to mama, I said. Smiling, Stephen did as he was told. I grabbed his cock, stroking it gently before taking him into my mouth. Stephen was in my power now, helpless on the bed as I sucked his dick and fondled his balls. While going down on him, I got a deliciously naughty idea. I slipped a finger into his ass and he gasped but didn't stop me. I slipped two fingers inside of his hole, and watched his dick get even harder in my mouth. Judging by his reaction, he clearly liked what I was doing. His eyes closed, he lay there as I worked him over. I reached into my purse and took out a slim pink dildo. The one I always carry with me for, um, emergency situations. I eased it into Stephen's ass. His eyes snapped open as I pushed the dildo all the way up his ass.

Stephen stared at me, stunned. I stopped sucking his dick long enough to tell him to relax and trust me. He hesitated, but did as he was told. I continued sucking his dick and thrusting the dildo up his ass. I left the dildo embedded in his ass and I marveled at how hard his dick had gotten. Suddenly filled with kinky inspiration, I climbed on top of Stephen, straddling him. He seemed surprised, but pleasantly so. Smiling, his strong hands went for my hips and his hard dick thrust into me. I gasped as Stephen's hard dick entered my pussy. At last, my sexy stud was inside of me. Wrapping my arms around him, I began riding him hard, loving the feel of his hard dick inside my pussy. Stephen and I definitely got our freak on, and my sexy Montreal stud fucked me front, back and sideways. We went at it until total exhaustion, lying side by side on his bed, soaked in our own juices. Now that's my idea of a fine Wednesday!

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