College Days Gone Wild

Bruno was at the bar, talking to an equally good-looking black man. They were laughing, and seemed to be having a good time. Moments later, to the consternation of every woman in the night club, and a few of the men, Bruno kissed his handsome male friend. I gasped in shock, as moments later I recognized the stud whom Bruno had kissed. It was David Augustine, the man he introduced me to months earlier! I stared at them. Neither of them noticed me. Joel held my hand, and pulled me to him. I whirled around, and glared at him. He let me go. I turned, to see Bruno and David exiting the club together.

I followed the two prettiest men I'd ever seen into the parking lot. I didn't know why. I didn't think, I guess. David and Bruno were all over each other, making out. They were heading for their car, doubtless rushing home for a night of passionate lovemaking. I still couldn't wrap my head around it. Could Bruno, my tall, dark and handsome, masculine Black lover be bisexual?

Bruno turned around, and saw me. He looked right into my eyes. For some reason, I was frozen still. David stood next to him, and nodded at me by way of salutations. I stared at Bruno, then at David, and back at Bruno. The man I had loved for more than a year was bisexual. And he never told me. He had dumped me, and all the other gorgeous women in his life to be with a man. A very beautiful man, but a man! Bruno looked at my face filled with questions, and nodded. Yes, he was bisexual. He smiled at me, and then looked at David. I've never seen him look at anyone in this manner. This wasn't lust. This was love. Bruno was in love with David. I had lost my male lover not to another woman but to another man.

I looked at them. God, they were beautiful. Tall, black, beautiful and yet undeniably masculine. I couldn't help but smile. I had never seen anything like them. A tall, dark and handsome black man who loved another tall, dark and handsome black man. They were beautiful. I felt my anger melt away. All of a sudden, so many things made sense. Bruno's beaming smile whenever he thought of that special lover whose name and gender he refused to identify. The lover who stood out among all the beautiful women of all races he routinely took to his bed. I feared this person might be a Black woman. Or a Latin bombshell. Or a Middle-eastern babe. Or a fellow Irishwoman. Nope. Wrong on all counts. Bruno Saint Pierre's lover was a Black man named David Augustine.

I suddenly felt a presence next to me. It was Joel, who stood at my side, even after how I treated him back at the club. I smiled apologetically at him, and took his hand in mine. Bruno looked at us, smiled, and took David's hand in his. He bowed his head slightly, smiled, and then they walked away. Got into their car. Drove away into the night. Out of my heart, mind, soul and into the night.

Joel looked at me. His handsome face was filled with questions. Questions I didn't feel like answering right now. What would I tell him? Joel met me at a very weird time in my life. I was the Irish Catholic girl rebelling against parental authority and reveling in the freedom she found in college. I met a handsome Black stud who showed me pleasures I never thought possible. I experimented sexually with men of different races. I was a regular nymphomaniac. And I felt zero remorse for any of it. I had fallen in lust, and love, with Bruno, the man many women took to their beds, but who denied them his heart. Bruno, who though he bedded more women than I cared to remember, had chosen a magnificent Black man to be his partner in life.

Yes, how do I explain all of this to Joel? He let me off the hook. He told me that I didn't have to explain anything, unless I felt like it, when ready. I smiled. He was a wonderful man. Oh, he wasn't an erotica-obsessed Business Executive like Paul Flannery or a spectacularly handsome bisexual Bad Boy like Bruno Saint Pierre but Joel Ramirez was a good man. I kissed my Latin lover, and took him home to give him the ride of his life. I like Joel. But I will never forget Bruno Saint Pierre...the one who got away. That unattainable person none of us end up with or can ever forget.