That particular Monday started out nicely enough for restaurant owner and businesswoman Yvette Pierre. Rising at seven o'clock in the Vanier townhouse she owned, Yvette showered and got dressed, then went to open her restaurant, Yvette's Spot. Braving the Ontario winter was no joke, but the strong lady had a business to run. By ten o'clock the tireless Haitian woman had her foodstuffs ready, and her assistant, a young Nigerian woman named Nadine Adewale, dutifully showed up to help.
Clients poured in starting at eleven o'clock, and the cash flowed like a river. Yvette's Spot was a small restaurant, capable of seating perhaps ten people at the maximum. Yet the place was always packed, with a line from the counter all the way to the door. Haitians, Jamaicans, Nigerians, French Canadians, Aboriginal Canadians, everyone wanted a piece of Yvette's supremely fine Haitian food. And that's how the fiery restaurant owner liked it. All was well, until one of Yvette's favorite people walked in all sad-faced...
"Malcolm, young man, what's wrong with you?" Yvette Pierre asked, leaving her assistant Nadine and another Haitian gal named Madeline Lafontant to take care of customers. The fifty-something Haitian restaurant owner frowned upon seeing a look of sadness on her young friend Malcolm Mathieu's handsome face. The tall, dark and handsome young Haitian-Canadian looked sadder than she'd seen him in recent times, and she suspected that his annoying girlfriend, Sharon somebody, had something to do with it...
"Sharon just broke up with me," Malcolm said as he sat down at a quiet corner of Yvette's Spot, a forlorn look on his handsome face. Upon seeing such sadness in Malcolm's eyes, Yvette's heart wrenched. Yvette Pierre had known Malcolm forever. Indeed, his parents Victoria and Vincent Mathieu went to school with her back in the City of Cap-Haitien, Haiti. When Yvette moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, the Mathieu family welcomed her and helped her get her restaurant off the ground.
"Tell me all about it," Yvette said, and she sat down opposite Malcolm, and looked into his soulful eyes. Only twenty years old, Malcolm was tall, ruggedly handsome and sturdy like only Afro-Caribbean men could be. The brother played rugby for the University of Ottawa, and Yvette expected a fine lad like him to have women chasing him left and right. Instead of taking advantage of such bounty, Malcolm instead focused on Sharon, a mixed chick he was fond of. Such a damn shame...
"Well, Yvette, there are things about me that Sharon can't handle," Malcolm said hesitantly, and Yvette's heart skipped a beat. She licked her lips, silently praying that Malcolm wasn't about to tell her that he was into guys or something like that. A lot of good, masculine Black men swung that way nowadays and although Yvette had nothing against gays and lesbians, and publicly supported gay marriage, she lamented every time she saw a fine brother go that way. Such a waste, really...
"What sort of things?" Yvette asked carefully, and Malcolm leaned back in his chair and sighed deeply before answering. The burly young Haitian wondered if he should fess up to Yvette. He'd known her forever. Yvette was his mother's best friend, and he was good friends with her son Eli, who was studying business at the University of York in Toronto, Ontario. Yvette was like family, but Malcolm wondered if she could handle what was troubling him...
"Yvette, I like female domination, specifically, Black female domination," Malcolm said, deadpan, and he waited for Yvette's reaction. The tall, dark-skinned, curvy and long-haired, beautiful Haitian sister looked at him and her lovely face was carefully neutral. Malcolm wondered what Yvette could be thinking. Doubtless she was about to condemn his sexual proclivities. After all, Yvette Pierre was a proud and very traditional Haitian strongwoman, not the type to tolerate sexual deviance in a Black man...
"Malcolm, you are a Black man who likes strong Black women, there's nothing wrong with that," Yvette Pierre replied, and she gently laid her hand on Malcolm's thigh. Malcolm looked at her and smiled nervously, in the way of young Black men who found themselves unexpectedly aroused by a woman, and tried to conceal it. Yvette knew that look well. The few times a week that the Haitian MILF rose the bus around Vanier, young brothers who were out with their girlfriends often gawked at her due to her raw sensuality...
"Yvette, I keep having dreams where a Black woman ties me up and spanks me, and more, what kind of Black man has such dreams?" Malcolm asked, his voice a quiet whisper. There was a haunted look on the handsome young Haitian brother's face. Yvette sighed, and gently laid her hands on Malcolm's. Seeing this brother in distress bothered her immensely, and she wasn't sure what to do...
"There is nothing wrong with your dreams, my friend, stick around for lunch and we shall discuss them later," Yvette said, in a firm voice, and Malcolm nodded, his face full of uncertainty. Yvette cupped Malcolm's chin in her small but firm hand, and looked into his eyes. Without another word, Yvette communicated something to Malcolm, and the young man smiled faintly, then nodded understandingly.
"Yes ma'am," Malcolm replied, and Yvette Pierre smiled, pleased by his response. Rising from her chair, she headed back to the kitchen. As Yvette walked away, sashaying that thick round ass of hers from side to side, Malcolm stared at her. Try as he might, he couldn't help feeling aroused. For Yvette had one of the thickest, roundest and biggest butts he'd ever seen. If only she weren't his mother's best friend...
"Malcolm won't know what hit him," Yvette whispered to herself, smiling as she doled out orders around the kitchen, and smilingly dealt with clients of all hues. Around two o'clock, Yvette took a break, and left the restaurant in the capable hands of Nadine and Madeline, with her nephew Jason the delivery guy carrying out orders to the rest of Vanier. Malcolm dutifully waited for her, and Yvette clucked her tongue, beckoning for the young brother to follow...
"Where are we going?" Malcolm asked, as he sat on the passenger's side, and Yvette grinned and laid her hand on his thigh. Malcolm sighed happily, and she saw a bulge in his pants. Their eyes met, and Malcolm smiled and stopped asking foolish questions. Yvette drove the few blocks to her house in Vanier Parkway, and once there, the two of them got down and dirty. Yvette made Malcolm take a shower, and then she showed the young Haitian brother what Black female domination was all about...
"Get on your knees, Malcolm, do as Mistress says," Yvette said to Malcolm in a harsh, bossy tone, as soon as he finished drying himself from the shower. Malcolm hesitated, gazing at Yvette, who sat on a couch in the living room, clad in her bra and panties. The lady looked good enough to eat, like a gorgeous Black Amazon from ancient times. Malcolm nodded, and did as he was told. Kneeling before Mistress Yvette, Malcolm repressed a pleasurable shudder. This was his ultimate fantasy coming true....
"Yes Mistress Yvette," Malcolm replied obediently, and when told to, he kissed her lovely feet. Yvette Pierre smiled, pleased by Malcolm's obedience. The young Haitian brother began polishing her toes with his tongue, and she sighed happily and leaned back on the couch. Nothing Yvette loved more than a strong Black man who submitted to Black female authority and sensual power. Such brothers were rare and a wonderful find...
