A Haitian Femdom Romance

"Cold," I said, and I tensed, expecting a physical rebuke from Mistress Mags, but instead of punishing me, Marguerite wrapped her arms around me and held me tenderly. Gently, Marguerite kissed me. I willed myself to be calm. You've got no idea how nerve-wracking such an experience can be for a novice like myself. I've been watching BDSM stuff online for years. That does not make me an expert. Viewing it and experiencing it are two different things...

"The things I'm going to do to that beautiful Haitian ass," Mistress Mags cooed softly into my ear. Next thing I knew, Marguerite gripped my hips and I felt something hard press itself against my ass. Prior to this whole thing, Marguerite and I had discussed safe words. I'm supposed to say "red" to stop, and "yellow" to get her to slow down. Well, I gave her the green light and Mistress Mags bucked her hips, pushing the dildo into my asshole. Ready or not, this was definitely happening...

Certain experiences are hard to describe, and getting fucked by a strap-on wielding Haitian diva from my church and school whom I'm sort of falling for is definitely one of them. Mistress Mags bent me over and fucked my ass, folks. I cried. I screamed. I moaned. I groaned. I howled. Mistress Mags totally owned my ass, plunging her well-lubricated tool into me, and I loved every minute of it. So much that I actually had some ( manly ) tears of gratitude afterwards...

"Thank you for being so open-minded," Marguerite said, and she held me tightly and kissed me, after tossing aside the strap-on dildo. I embraced her, and looked into her eyes, once we came up for air. Just like that, we began making love, albeit in a more, traditional way, shall we say? I lay flat on the carpeted floor of Marguerite's living room, and the gorgeous, curvy Haitian beauty straddled me.

"Hello beautiful," I said, and a smiling Marguerite took my hands and put them on her breasts. I got the hint and began playing with her tits, pinching the areolas a bit. Marguerite grabbed my dick and stroked it, and I felt myself harden. Guiding my dick to her pussy, Marguerite locked eyes with me. I looked at this beautiful, at times scary gal, and I wanted her more badly than I'd ever wanted anyone or anything in my existence...

"Make love to me," Marguerite whispered, and I nodded and did just that. I gave her big booty a firm slap, then thrust into her. Marguerite sighed happily as I began fucking her. At last we were one. We were no longer mistress and submissive, just a man and a woman who needed and wanted each other. As the night rolled on, we tried other positions, and our fun continued.

"Love that ass of yours," I said to Marguerite as I put her on all fours. Laughing, Marguerite backed that ass up and pressed it against my face. I spread her thick ass cheeks wide open and began licking her asshole. I love the black female posterior and if loving it is wrong then this freaky Haitian brother doesn't want to be right. I ate Marguerite's booty while fingering her wet, hairy pussy. I coaxed at least two orgasms out of her that night, in this very fashion. Beginner's luck, eh?

When morning came, it found Marguerite and I lying in bed, and there was no awkwardness or weirdness. I, Trevor Villeneuve, care deeply for Marguerite Mathieu, and that's that. We woke up, talked, laughed, had breakfast, had sex, showered together, had some more sex and then I realized I had to go home. Marguerite drove me to Place D'Orleans Station, from where I would board the 95 bus and begin my long trek back to Barrhaven, Ontario.

"See you soon, gorgeous," I said to the lovely, fearless Marguerite Mathieu as I got on the bus, and she smiled and slapped my ass, hard. Oh yeah, she's still my mistress alright. I showed my U-Pass to the OC Transpo bus driver, an old Arab dude, and he looked at me pensively as I walked past him. I guess he'd seen Marguerite and I and our amorous displays. Whatever. I was all smiles as I sat in the swivel seat, my favorite spot, and thought about last night's events. To many more days like this one, I thought, as I took out my cell phone and began browsing YouTube for some Kompa music.