A Montreal University RomancebySamuelx©
The stereotype about us bisexual men is that we're serial cheaters, disease spreaders and that we couldn't be honest if God Himself ordered us to do so. What a load of crap! As if there's a link between sexual orientation and dishonesty. Sounds like a character issue rather than a sexual one if you ask me, but what do I know? In case you're wondering who the hell this is, I'm Simon Rajih. I was born in the City of Baniyas in northwestern Syria, to a Syrian father and Ethiopian mother. My parents, Elias Abdul Rajih and Jerusalem Getachew moved to the Confederation of Canada when I was younger. We settled the City of Montreal, province of Quebec, when I was starting the eighth grade and to be honest, I barely remember the Republic of Syria. Still, it's part of me, whether I like it or not.
Growing up half black and half Arab in a beautiful metropolis like Montreal, surrounded by African and Arab immigrants, was complicated, to say the least. To the Arabs, I was too black. To the Blacks, I wasn't black enough. Nevertheless, I long ago learned to accept myself for who I am and I stopped caring what other people thought of me at a very young age. I attended a private Catholic school in the south end of Montreal, and won an academic scholarship to Concordia University. I decided to study organic chemistry, because I have always been gifted when it comes to science. That's me, the man with the brains. Proof that there's more to Black men than sports, crime and sex.
My life has never been what you would consider easy. My parents came to Canada as refugees, fleeing the religiously based persecution that Christians face in most Muslim countries in the Arab world. Even though I'm a Canadian citizen, it seems that I can never outlive the stigma that comes with being the son of refugees. Canadian society isn't nearly as tolerant as they'd like you to believe. White people walk up to you, the visible minority, the non-white person, and they tell you they're the real Canadians, as if you're something. As if you don't matter. Even minority gals and guys born in Canada get that same treatment from them. I think they're afraid of us visible minorities. If you pay close attention, you'll notice that in Canada, the Arabs, Africans, East Indians, Chinese and Aboriginals are reproducing much faster than the Caucasian population. Someday, the average Canadian won't be white, and I think many of them "real Canadians" fear that this day isn't too far off. If you ask me, they can go fuck themselves. My parents taught me that with education and hard work, us minority types can have a bright future in Canada. It's something which I firmly believe, in spite of all the bigotry I encounter in the great white north.
I'm not the most open person in the world, given what I've seen in my twenty-odd years on this planet, and that made for a lonely existence. One person who came into my life and injected excitement into my dreary existence is Rudolf Vincent. A tall, good-looking young Black man of Haitian descent I met during my senior year of high school. He played football for our school. Rudolf and I came from different worlds, and he was everything I wanted to be but could never be. The guy was smooth and well-dressed, and he was a big hit with the ladies. He dated Mildred, this Jamaican chick I had a crush on. I so envied him but hey, that's life, right? As surprising as it may sound, Rudolf and I became good friends...and eventually, so much more.
You see, Rudolf became the first real friend I ever had, the only person I let get close to me. I've always been a loner in high school. The smart guy with no friends. Well, Rudolf changed all that. The guy set out to change my life by giving me a social life. He introduced me to Roselyn, the cute Haitian chick I went to Prom with. He also made sure his buddies on the football team knew who I was, and I suddenly found myself invited to all the cool parties at school. Rudolf was suave and a total ladies' man, but he also had a secret. He liked both guys and girls. Yeah, Rudolf the macho football player was bisexual. He shared that with me one night, during the summer after our graduation from school. My response to that shocking revelation? I kissed him. We had sex that night, and my world changed. Rudolf and I embarked on a steamy, passionate but secretive relationship. Lasted all summer.
Rudolf and I were constantly at each other's houses. He loved taking me for long drives in his car. We'd go to the movies and also to the beach. Rudolf was really cool and treated me well. Of course, he still had girls on the side but I was okay with that. I was in love with the guy and he told me that I was important to him. The thing about first love is that you tend to be really naïve when it happens. By late August things had cooled off between us, though. Rudolf was heading to the University of Calgary because Alberta is home to Canada's biggest football fanatics. I was staying in Montreal, choosing to study organic chemistry at Concordia University instead of venturing outside of Quebec like so many of my former classmates. The province of Quebec has the cheapest institutions of higher education in the western hemisphere, and they're also among the most highly ranked. The University of Montreal, McGill University and Concordia University are every bit the equals of Cambridge University and Oxford University in England, and Harvard University and Princeton in the States. Believe it!
Rudolf was gone, and I felt lonely. I also felt sexually confused. Before I met him, I liked girls exclusively. My preference was for curvaceous Black girls and Hispanic chicks. After dating him, I found myself wondering about who I was, sexually speaking. I still liked women, but was I bisexual or straight? I had no bloody idea. I started school that fall, determined to put Rudolf and our summer romance out of my mind. I was walking through one of the eateries near campus one day when I met someone apparently destined to change my life. This tall, gorgeous young woman I spotted with a cup of coffee in her hand and a copy of Ayn Rand's breakthrough work Atlas Shrugged. Beauty and brains, eh? I just had to approach her. And so I did. The old "I've seen you somewhere before" trick, you know? The gal in question was Theresa Suarez, a native of El Salvador who was studying economics at McGill University, the archrival of my beloved Concordia University in everything from sports to academia. I smiled at Theresa, and asked her if she went to Concordia even though I could clearly see the McGill University logo on her backpack.
I thought a smart-looking chick like her would see right through my ruse but amazingly, she didn't. Or at the very least she pretended not to see through it. Thus I found myself sitting across from this sexy young Latin woman, discussing Ayn Rand and the competitive world of intra-university sports. Theresa was a big fan of the McGill University football team, apparently she used to play rugby at her old school in El Salvador and found American football fascinating. That's cool. My dad is really into the NFL. Me? I'm a glorified nerd and didn't know the first thing about football but from listening to my dad and his friends, I knew all about college and professional football teams, both in the U.S. and Canada. That's my thing, you see? I've got a really, really good memory. My parents have long theorized that the reason I didn't remember much about my early years in Syria was because I repressed it. The only thing tougher than being a Christian in a mostly Muslim country in the Middle East was being a non-Arab. My mother and I were treated as outcasts by my father's side of the family, that much I remember. That had a lot to do with why the family left Syria for Canada. That and the fact that Christians are persecuted daily in the Middle East by the Muslim majority, a fact the Western media continues to ignore.
Anyhow, since our initial meeting in that café near Concordia University, Theresa and I really hit it off, and we began hanging out regularly. I was thrilled to be hanging around such a beautiful woman. I'm five-foot-nine, slim to the point of being "mad skinny". I have wavy black hair, light brown skin and pale bronze eyes. Theresa is five-foot-eleven, curvy and absolutely stunning, with her bronze skin, curly black hair and pale green eyes. I honestly think she could have been a model if she wanted to, but she told me she had no interest in modeling, preferring to stick to the books. That was fine by me, because I'm the studious type as well. I was really feeling Theresa and struggled with how to tell her about how I felt when fate stepped in and the decision was made for me.
We were hanging out at this club in downtown Montreal one night, just me and her, and a couple of girls she was friends with. The club was Haitian-owned and one of the coolest spots in Montreal. Some hot Kompa music was playing in the background. Everything seemed alright and Theresa was doing the bump and grind on the dance floor with her friend Ramona, this Afro-Dominican chick who also went to McGill. I was sipping on my drink and enjoying the show when this big dude with tattoos apparently decided to cut in, and didn't like it when Theresa told him to buzz off. The guy looked stunned, and started cussing her out. Theresa, being the feisty Latina that she was, cussed him right back.
The guy looked like he was ready to flip, and I took that as my cue to step in. sometimes a man's got to do what a man's got to do. That's why I walked up to the big guy and got in his face. He smirked, then shoved me. I didn't even think about it. I just decked him, and when that didn't seem to work, I used my knee to strike him in the groin. Yes, I'm that guy who will kick another guy in the frigging nuts. I'm five-foot-nine by 160 pounds soaking wet. This dude was at least six-foot-three and had at least thirty pounds on me. I wasn't taking any chances, ladies and gentlemen. The guy went down like a sack of potatoes, but he cut me deep when he took a swing at me. I was bleeding pretty bad near the temple. Not good.
Long story short? I was asked to leave the club, and even though Theresa and her friends protested vehemently, the bouncers didn't want to hear about it. I shrugged and got ready to leave. Guess who decided to come with me? Theresa, my gorgeous Theresa. It was around one in the morning when we left the club, and we got into a cab and went back to her place. I told her that I was alright, but she insisted that she had stuff in her medicine cabinet to help me. So there I sat, on her living room couch, trying not to think about the night's events as she applied rubbing alcohol to the cut on my head. It stung like hell, and even though I tried to be tough, I found myself wincing like crazy. It hurts, man. Theresa looked at me, smiled that awesome smile of hers and told me to stop being a baby. And then she kissed me.
Theresa kissed me full and deep, and I responded in kind. Soon we were hastily undressing each other in the living room, and I wanted her quite badly. Off came Theresa's tank top, followed by her short leather mini-dress and panties. I licked my lips, admiring her gorgeous naked body. Her perky tits, her flat stomach, her big round ass, hot damn this woman was on fire! Grinning, she gestured for me to come to her. I went to her, and took her into my arms. I kissed her and licked her lips, then kissed her neck. I cupped her breasts in hands and squeezed them gently. Theresa ran her hands all over my hairy chest and then made her way to my groin. Her quick hands grabbed my crotch, and my dick hardened.
Theresa pushed me on the floor, then began roaming all over my body. When her lips found my sex, I inhaled sharply. Was she about to do what I thought? Apparently so. Theresa fastened her mouth around my dick and began sucking on me, causing my dick to get even harder while waves of pleasure coursed through me. We continued with our fun, and then it was my turn to pleasure her. I had never gone down on anyone before, man or woman. Even with Rudolf, it was strictly him pleasuring me. I closed my eyes and brought my lips to Theresa's pussy. I stuck my tongue inside of her, followed by my fingers, like I'd seen people do in porno movies. Theresa lay there, moaning and panting. She seemed to get frustrated with what I was doing, and then began guiding me through it. I licked her pussy the way she liked it, and that seemed to please her. Next, we had sex. The moment of truth had come. Could I really go through with it? Get hard and stay hard, and stick my dick into a woman's pussy.
Theresa lay back, spreading her legs and welcoming me inside of her. I rubbed my dick against her pussy, and hesitated. Theresa looked at me and cocked an eyebrow. I closed my eyes, and pushed my dick inside of her. And just like that, I was a virgin no more. Theresa actually slapped my face, telling me to open my eyes. I did, and gazed at her, the wild Latina going nuts as I pumped my dick into her cunt. She wrapped her arms around me, actually raking my back with her long fingernails as we made love. She wasn't the only one screaming, I tell you. We went at it like this for hours, with no thought of anything except satisfying our baser needs. Oh, and no condoms. When morning came, it found us lying on her living room carpet, naked and smelling of sex. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I lost my hetero virginity. How about that?
Things got a bit weird between Theresa and I after this, with both of us reacting very differently in the aftermath of our post-coital passions. I for one felt truly happy, thrilled actually. I just made love to a gorgeous woman. I'm officially a man. As much as I liked Rudolf, and enjoyed what we did, it had me questioning my sexuality and my masculinity. Well, I just had sex with a sexy woman. No doubting my manhood now. I looked at Theresa, so sexy and fine, and so awesome in every way. I wanted a relationship with her, and I told her as much. Theresa didn't feel the same way. She enjoyed what we did the night before, but wanted to keep things casual between us. She wanted us to stay friends. Well, I, um, wanted more. Since we both wanted different things, this drove a wedge between us.
I really liked this gal, but it seemed things weren't meant to be. As heartbroken as I was, I realized that I had to move on. Anyhow, around the same time that Theresa stopped returning my calls, and I found out that our mutual friends had distanced themselves from me, I had an epiphany. From now on, regardless of what the world thought of me, I would be honest with myself. I went on Facebook, and changed my interests to reflect my changing identity. Simon Rajih. Born February 7, 1989. Living in Montreal, Quebec, from Baniyas, Syria. Religion? Christian. Orientation? I'm guess bisexual. As in interested in both women AND men. Studying organic chemistry at Concordia University. I even updated my timeline, putting a picture of a hot chick sandwiched between two muscular guys who were kissing her on the cheeks. Yeah, I'm coming out. After this update, I went to class.
The next time I logged on Facebook, I had close to a hundred messages in my inbox. Most of them came from people I didn't even know. What the fuck? Some were praising my courage, others were hating on me. I got a message from Theresa, calling me a liar and a faggot for not telling her that I was bisexual BEFORE she gave me some pussy. I replied to her that she never asked, and found out that she had just blocked me. Nice, that's real mature. Oh, well. Who needs her anyways? I got a message which made me smile. It was from someone I hadn't heard from in a long time. A friend request from Rudolf. I hesitated, then added him as a friend. Immediately I checked out his profile. On his background was a picture of him locking lips with a cute blonde-haired white chick in a cowboy hat. He was wearing his University of Calgary Dinos football team uniform. I checked out his profile details. The blonde chick was Amber something or other, his girlfriend of the moment. Hmmm. I read the message he sent me and couldn't help but smile. Rudolf said he missed me, and was coming back to Montreal around Christmas time. Damn, I thought. I know what I want for Christmas this year!