Getting Bi in Quartier Morin

After the infamous drought of 1990 came the rain, and the torrential downpour besieged the town of Quartier Morin in Haiti's Nord-Department like an invading army. There was water everywhere, soaking the normally dusty streets. The rural Haitian community, located a few kilometers from the City of Cap-Haitien, has definitely seen better days. Flooding is typically a concern for the inhabitants of coastal cities or riverbank towns and villages, not country folk residing in the plains. Could flooding be on the cards for the town of Quartier Morin? The locals dread the answer.

Jasper Bien-Aime stood at the window, and watched while shaking his head. The six-foot-tall, wiry and slender, dark-skinned man looked troubled. Truth be told, the stoic Haitian farmer was in his sixtieth year but looked much younger. Working the land for most of his lifetime made Jasper much stronger and more spry than a man of his years had any right to be. Some city slickers found that out the hard way when they challenged Jasper to an arm wrestling contest in Place Rue Dix-Huit last month. Quartier Morin folks are no pushovers. For two centuries, members of the Bien-Aime family had looked after these lands.

The Bien-Aime Estate covers three hundred acres, and in ages past, the owners had massive herds of cows, goats and pigs. They were among the Marche Du Cap's most reliable meat suppliers. The Bien-Aime name means something in the world of Haitian commerce, where all goods are bartered, and prices are seldom set. Jasper was concerned about his farm. Prior to the rain, Jasper made sure his flock was properly taken care of. Affectionately known as L'Arene, the wooden stalls with the thatched roof would provide plenty of shelter for the cows and horses. Jasper had no desire to run after them once the rains stopped.

Jasper watched the lightning streak across the darkened skies, and wondered how his neighbor Boris Renard was doing. Jasper and Boris had known each other their whole lives. Boris wife Anne-Marie died recently after a long battle with cancer. Boris sons Jean-Claude and Yvon left the Renard family estate to seek their fortune in Port-Au-Prince. To say that the old Haitian widower was lonely would have been an understatement. Jasper checked up on Boris from time to time. The old buzzard didn't care to pick up the phone when he called. Boris was a technophobe of the worst caliber. Oh well, this made Jasper and Boris in-person meetings more interesting....

A rueful smile creased Jasper's face as he remembered what went on during his last visit with Boris. Things got a bit rowdy between the two friends. As much as Boris missed his dearly departed wife Anne-Marie, there were things which he could now enjoy freely in her absence. Well, about as free as one dares to be in the Republic of Haiti. Jasper and Boris have an enduring friendship going back several decades, and both men know each other quite well. Discretion and true friendship go hand in hand, that's what both men believe.

As the winds of change gripped the Island of Haiti, the people of rural Quartier Morin went on as they always have, with patience and stoicism. Let the politically minded fools in places like Port-Au-Prince, Cap-Haitien and Hinche clash with their friends and neighbors all they want. Folks in Quartier Morin are the heart of Haiti, for it is their work which feeds the country. Names like Aristide and Sedras were on everyone's lips in this time of turmoil. Jasper and his neighbors didn't pay them any mind. Jasper was glad that his daughter Aline was safe and sound in Ouanaminthe with her Dominican husband Pablo. Always best to stay out of the hot zones...

"Jasper, retounen nan kaban, come back to bed," came a sleepy feminine voice, and Jasper grinned. The lady of the house was making her presence felt. Marguerite was awake, which was quite surprising after last night's sexual escapades. Jasper put away the cigarette he'd drawn. Marguerite doesn't like it when he smokes indoors. Jasper saw Marquis and Loki, the family dogs, avoiding the rain as best they could in the wooden shelter he'd built for them years ago. Shaking his head, Jasper headed for the door.

"Map vini, cheri, I'll be right back, honey," Jasper called over his shoulder. He looked at the falling rain, shook his head and went into it. Opening the wooden shelter door, Jasper let Loki and Marquis out. The two dogs, a large brown mutt and a small brown dog, wagged their tails affectionately. Jasper patted the dogs heads and pointed to the house. Loki and Marquis rushed to the house. Jasper followed them inside. Mere days ago, Jasper prayed for rain as he attended mass at the Cathedral. Now, he wanted the damned water to go away...

Jasper took some beef jerky and tossed it to Loki and Marquis. The dogs wolfed down their meal most eagerly. Jasper washed his hands and then went back to the bedroom. Marguerite sat on the bed, stark naked. Tall and curvy, with skin of a rich mahogany hue, Marguerite was Haitian womanhood personified. Born and raised in the environs of Mirebalais, Marguerite Dumond came to the Nord-Department more than two decades ago and never left. Even after many years together, Jasper found the sight of Marguerite's nakedness positively enchanting...

"Kisa ou tap fe deyo a? What were you doing outside?" Marguerite demanded, upon noticing that Jasper was naked. Jasper smiled and shrugged. Marguerite rolled her eyes. Ever since their adult daughter Aline got married and moved out, Jasper had been treating the dogs Marquis and Loki like offspring rather than pets. Marguerite missed her daughter Aline as well, but young women must leave their families and move in with their husbands. Such is the way of things all over the world. Marguerite accepts this, but Jasper is still struggling with it...

"Chien yo te bezwen mwen, the dogs needed me," Jasper said with a shrug. Marguerite clucked her tongue and looked Jasper up and down. When they first met, ages ago, many found them to be polar opposites. Marguerite was born and raised in Mirebalais, the daughter of a town magistrate. Jasper on the other hand was a fifth generation farmer, and all he knew was the land and the animals. Marguerite surprised many, including herself, when she fell in love with Jasper. The two got married, and their marriage produced only one soul, their lovely daughter Aline. With Aline gone, Marguerite and Jasper are experiencing empty nest syndrome...

"Madanm ou bezwen ou, your wife needs you," Marguerite said firmly, and Jasper smiled as he approached her. Marguerite licked her lips and spread her thick thighs invitingly. Jasper took Marguerite's face into his hands and kissed her passionately. Marguerite threw her arms around Jasper and kissed him back. Just like that, they began making love. Marguerite sighed as Jasper caressed her big tits then began sucking on them. The voluptuous Haitian woman nodded approvingly as her husband began fingering her wet, hairy pussy while sucking on her tits. Nothing like early morning lovemaking...

"Madanm mwen gen bon gou, my lady tastes good," Jasper replied. He kissed a path from Marguerite's tits to her belly, and then buried his face between her legs. Marguerite held her breath as Jasper began eating her pussy. She hasn't even gotten out of bed or showered, but he likes her smell and taste just the same. Jasper sucked on Marguerite's clit and fingered her pussy, causing her to moan in wanton pleasure. The big beautiful lady was close to cloud nine, and her husband was bringing her there...

"Hmm, mete pou mwen, give it to me," Marguerite murmured as Jasper put her on all fours. Jasper grinned while admiring Marguerite's thick ass. At five-foot-nine, she was taller than most women, with a thick body supporting prodigious attributes such as her huge ass. Jasper playfully smacked Marguerite's big butt and then went to work on her. Stroking his long and thick cock, Jasper gripped Marguerite's wide hips and pushed his dick into her. A happy groan escaped his lips as he entered her. Best way to start the day...

"Gade yon bel bonda, look at that beautiful ass," Jasper said, and he thrust his dick deeper into Marguerite's pussy. Moaning in pleasure, Marguerite pressed her thick ass against Jasper's groin, driving him deeper inside of her. Even after making love countless times, it was still a thrill to feel his thick cock in her pussy. Jasper gripped Marguerite's long tresses and yanked her head back while fucking her. The lady of the house likes what she likes, and the man of the house must oblige, every damn time. Jasper smashed Marguerite's pussy, making that big butt of hers bounce until she came...

"Hmm, mwen te bezwen sa, I needed that," Marguerite said as she lay next to Jasper on the bed. Jasper looked at Marguerite, smiled and gently kissed her hand. He wasn't one to get chatty after sex. It just wasn't his way. After decades of marriage, Marguerite knows her husband Jasper very well. From the moment they met, she knew he was special and different. Jasper did the whole marriage and fatherhood late in life because, well, he had some rather different interests compared to most men.

"Nou toujou damou, we are still in love," Jasper said, and Marguerite nodded. He glanced at a picture on the nightstand. There were two couples in their Sunday best, Jasper and Marguerite on one side, and their neighbors Boris and Anne-Marie Renard on the other. Marguerite had been close friends with Anne-Marie for many years prior to her death and for a time, both women were concerned about the special bond their husbands shared. In time, they learned to accept it, even if they never fully understood it.

"How's Boris these days?" Marguerite said out of the blue, and Jasper frowned before answering. Jasper and Marguerite had been together a long time, and his bisexuality was known to her. They didn't discuss it much. Jasper wasn't like other gay men and bisexual men roaming the streets for anonymous sex with random men. The only man Jasper ever dealt with sexually was Boris. The arrangement worked for both men...and their wives. It was that simple.

"Boris will never get over Anne-Marie's death, but then again, she's the love of his life, I just comforted him as best I could," Jasper said with a sigh. Marguerite nodded and gently laid her hand on Jasper's chest. Between the two of them, certain things were best left unsaid. Marguerite loves her husband Jasper, and he cares for her deeply. Their sex life varied and awesome. Marguerite also knows that Jasper fucks men, and she is fine with it as long as he's safe and discrete.

"Love is love, mon cheri," Marguerite said, closing the subject. There was nothing more to be said on the subject of Jasper and his relationship with Boris. Marguerite smiled as she rested her head against Jasper's chest. Jasper wrapped his arms around Marguerite's curvy body as she listened to his rhythmic heartbeat. Outside, the thunder boomed in the darkened skies, and lightning struck. The rural commune of Quartier Morin, surrounded by fertile plains, continues to endure what seems to be the torrential downpour of the century. Jasper's mind raced as he thought of recent events...

"I care for you, Jas, but I will never get over losing Anne-Marie," Boris said to Jasper as they sat together, a few days ago. The two men drank some Barbancourt rum and reminisced about their friendship, and their tumultuous lives. In the eyes of Haitian society, they're husbands and fathers, heads of households and pillars of the community. Privately, they're men with secrets. Men who lead secret lives, experience secret love and secret pain. Such is the way of things for them.

"I miss Anne-Marie too, she was an amazing woman," Jasper said, and Boris nodded sagely. Tall and burly, with dark brown skin and curly dark hair tinged with gray, Boris looked much younger than his fifty eight years. A proud son of Quartier Morin, born and raised, Boris has lived there his whole life, as has his late wife Anne-Marie. Jasper and Boris have known one another forever, and discovered their hidden selves long before they discovered women.

"Stay a while," Boris said gently, and Jasper nodded. After finishing their drinks and their chat, they retired to the bedroom. On the bed Boris shared with his wife Anne-Marie, he and Jasper got their freak on. Jasper laid Boris on the bed, undressed him and took care of him. Boris smiled as Jasper grabbed his cock and stroked him before taking him into his mouth. Jasper winked at Boris and then showed him what he's been missing. As Jasper sucked Boris cock and fingered his ass, Boris groaned in sheer pleasure. Oh yeah, Boris missed Jasper's special touch alright...

"Cum for me," Jasper said to Boris, and as his lover groaned, the Haitian farmer worked him over until the magic happened. Boris cried out as he came, and when he did, Jasper swallowed his seed. The two men lay side by side, raunchy and dirty but feeling livelier than ever. After this sexual interlude, Boris and Jasper bantered. Whether Boris felt like reminiscing about banging his late wife Anne-Marie out in the fields or accompanying her to the Marche Du Cap on sales runs, Jasper lent him his ear. It was well into the evening before they parted ways.

"Thanks for being a friend," Boris said to Jasper, and the two of them embraced for a long moment. Jasper got back on his mule, Harriet, and then headed back to the Bien-Aime Estate. Boris watched him go, and then went back inside his compound, to drink more rum and speak to his late wife Anne-Marie's spirit until he fell asleep. Such is the old Haitian farmer's routine since his wife's untimely passing. Jasper sincerely hopes that Boris recovers from the mess he's currently in but he's not holding his breath...

"I'm lucky you're in my life," Jasper said to Marguerite, who grinned, then playfully tugged on his chest hairs. Jasper laughed and winced at the same time. Marguerite is full of surprises, both good and bad. Of course, the same can probably be said for every woman. Putting aside thoughts of the farm, the storm, and his buddy Boris, Jasper focused on his beloved wife Marguerite. As the storm raged, ravaging the landscape of Quartier Morin and the northern region of Haiti, Jasper and Marguerite made sweet love. Never pass up a good thing...