Mistress Monique Of Kenya

I work as a security guard in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Not the most glamorous job in the world, especially for a guy in his late twenties who's close to completing his university studies in the Capital after a long hiatus from the higher education system. The name is Stephenson Jacques, and I'm a big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent with a story to share with you. Struggling to pay rent and tuition is nothing new to me, but dealing with heartache at the same time definitely took its toll on a brother.

Alright, a few months ago I got dumped by Dominique Abbasid, the lovely Middle-Eastern gal I'd been dating for the past year or so. Dominique and I came from different worlds. I am a Haitian-Canadian guy raised in the Catholic faith, the son of immigrants who moved to Ontario from the isles of the Caribbean in the early 1990s. As for my former lady love Dominique, she's of Arab Christian descent. Tall, bronze-skinned, with long Black hair, an athletic body and a big round ass, this Arab Christian cutie was to die for. Too bad loving Dominique nearly killed me.

The Arab guys at my school like to have their way with Black girls and White girls but they don't like seeing Arab chicks with men of other races. They tend to stare when they saw Dominique and I together. Well, Dominique and I got together and stuck it out for a good while. I really thought she was the one. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Dominique dumped my Haitian ass for some red-haired White dude, and from what I can garner from their Facebook photos, they're all over each other. Good for them. Me? I am trying to move on with my life, thank you very much.

While working security, I got sent to this drugstore which needed protection on its overnight shift because of a rash of robberies in the area. I met a most remarkable woman. Monique Kilonzo, a short, pleasantly plump, lovely Black lady of Kenyan descent. Monique works as a manager with the drugstore's overnight shift, and we got along fairly well. To be honest, that surprised the hell out of me. A lot of people treat you like shit when you're a security guard. Why? I don't know.

I still have nightmares about this government office downtown where I worked as a security guard for a few months. All of these uptight snobs working for the federal government treat cleaners, security people and even construction workers like we're second-class citizens or a lower form of human being. I don't know if it's because a lot of people in those jobs are visible minorities, recent newcomers from places like Africa, Asia and Latin America. For the most part, these uptight bozos are middle-aged White guys and older White chicks, all of them with something stuck up their butts and not the fun way.

Guess who I ran into one afternoon while exiting the uptight government office? None other than Monique Kilonzo, the lovely Black lady from the Republic of Kenya. The lady was on her way to her car after making a transaction at the nearby CIBC Bank. I was one of hundreds of people stuck downtown, waiting for the OC Transpo buses. I can't stand the buses because they shortchange their clientele, and the overly entitled older White folks working in the government offices downtown still have an attitude problem while on the bus.

I just needed to catch a bus from Metcalfe Street and ride it till Bayview Station, where I'd catch the O-Train and get to the university campus easily. As easy as one, two and three. Of course, nothing was going right that day. To my right stood a well-dressed but absolutely horrible human being. An older White dude who felt it was okay to sneeze way too close to me without covering his damn mouth or apologizing.

See what I told you about their sense of entitlement? Well, I might have to watch out around these entitled old White guys at work but on the street, anyone is fair game. I told the old White bozo exactly where he could stuff it, and he blinked and stared at me, stunned. They're not used to being confronted over their bullshit in Ottawa, I swear. Everyone was staring because young Black men in Ottawa don't stand up to well-dressed, entitled and politely racist older White guys. It's like an unwritten rule or something. Well, fuck that!

I wasn't having the best of days, but things got better once Monique Kilonzi came along. The fine-looking sister from Kenya drove up in her bright red car, and honked at me, a smile on her lovely face. Just like that, Monique offered me a ride. I smiled and nodded at the lady, then hesitantly got on and we drove away. Seriously, I wasn't expecting that. Monique and I had casually spoken while I worked security at her drugstore, but that was about it.

Monique gave me a ride to Bayview Station, and I caught the O-Train and made it on time for my 5 PM class. I work from eight in the morning to four o'clock in the afternoon five days a week. Doing endless patrols in this lofty office building because that's what is expected of a security guard. All for eleven dollars per hour. I'm surrounded by men and women who make close to a hundred thousand dollars a year. They treat me like shit. Welcome to my, well, existence. Understand that having people being nice to me isn't something that I am used to. Monique's kindness touched me in many ways. I decided to look up the pretty lady on Facebook, and sent her a friendly thank you message. Well, folks, that's how it all began.

Monique and I became friends, and in time, our friendship turned into a torrid affair. I am 27 years old. I've worked odd jobs from kitchen aide to bricklayer, security guard, mechanic and shelf stocker at Loblaw's and cashier at Wal-Mart. I didn't feel like college or university after high school. At the age of 24 I returned to school. At 27, I am close to finally getting a Bachelor's degree in Commerce from one of Canada's leading universities. I feel odd on campus because these young women are much younger than I, and we have different expectations. I want something serious or halfway serious with a decent lady, while all these chicks want is casual fun.

Monique Kilonzo, the gorgeous MILF from Kenya, is 41 years old and has two daughters, Annie, who is 23 and Jennifer, age 19. The lady is recently divorced, knows what she wants, and doesn't bullshit. Well, that's okay by me, folks. Monique is the lady who changed my life for the better. The lady saw something in me. Monique sat me down and told me what she wanted of me. The Kenyan MILF is seriously into something called BDSM, and she is very dominant. Oh, and she's seeking someone to play with on a regular basis. Well, I am a highly experimental person when it comes to sexual matters. We were a definite match!

The first time we played together, Monique established some ground rules. In her dungeon/basement, I was to call her Mistress Emali, after her hometown in the Makueni region of the Republic of Kenya. Well, folks, Mistress Emali definitely rocked my world. Monique Kilonzi, the polite and friendly, motherly plump African lady vanished, replaced by a leather-clad, booted and riding crop-wielding dominatrix. I knelt before Mistress Emali, as I was instructed to. I felt both nervous and sexually aroused. Weird, eh?

Mistress Emali smiled at me and stroked my big dark dick, and then when I got hard, she squeezed my balls until it hurt and I begged for mercy. Laughing, Mistress Emali bent me over her knee and gave my Haitian ass a sound spanking. Hmm, I hadn't gotten spanked by a Black woman in almost two decades. I really liked it, the delicious pain and wicked pleasure. Afterwards, Mistress Emali took me to the washroom and made me clean my ass with soap and water, then we returned to the basement for more fun.

I must admit that when the Kenyan dominatrix donned her thick Black strap-on dildo, I was scared shitless. Grinning wickedly, Mistress Emali bent me over and then lubricated my asshole with some hand cream, Aloe I believe it was called. Mistress Emali caressed my ass and told me to relax, then she spread my cheeks and then pressed the business end of the dildo against my bum. I winced as Mistress Emali pushed the dildo into my ass, and then the screaming began.

How did it feel the first time my Haitian ass got fucked in the ass by a Kenyan dominatrix wielding a strap-on dildo? Well, it felt oddly good. Mistress Emali gripped my hips and fucked me good, sliding the dildo deep into my asshole. I squirmed, I moaned, I screamed and I tried to flee, but my dominatrix held onto me and fucked me. It was absolutely the most intense sexual experience of my lifetime. Did I like it? Hell no! I loved it! Got my dick so hard I shot cum all over the damn place.

Monique Kilonzo/Mistress Emali of Kenya and I began a wonderful relationship, one that was mutually beneficial. Monique is divorced and enjoying her freedom, and she hasn't hidden this from her grown up daughters. I met them and they're lovely ladies. I've only got eyes for Monique, though. Like I said before, gals my age or close to it leave me cold. Had enough of them on the university campus. I'm a grown man and I prefer a grown woman. Monique and I don't have time for games. We go to movies and restaurants together, enjoy each other's company and fuck each other silly. We don't call it dating. We just call it our time together. Works for us. Peace.