Black On Black Pegging Wedding

Harriet Saint-Bernard here. A young Black woman of Haitian descent living near the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. These days, life couldn't be better. Sixteen months ago I graduated from Ottawa University with my Master's degree in Finance. And I currently work for the Target Corporation in downtown Toronto. Not bad for a tall and chubby, awkward Black chick from Northern Haiti, eh? I live in a nice apartment in the town of Brampton, within the Toronto Metropolitan Area. I make good money, and drive a nice car. A bright red convertible, believe it or not. All that's missing in this sister's life is the right Black man. And he's got to be Black for it to be alright. Sorry, people. I accept no substitutes.

At a time when so many Black men and Black women are shacking up with or outright marrying women and men of other races, I remain a firm believer in Black Love. I love my chocolate brothers and that's not going to change anytime soon. Even though the brothers can and do get on my last nerve sometime. Recently I met a very promising prospect in the person of Ryan Calhoun. A tall, good-looking young Black man from the City of Atlanta, Georgia. Ryan is six-foot-three to my five-foot-eleven, light-skinned with light gray eyes and he's built like a College Football player. A graduate of the University of Georgia, he's a newcomer to Toronto. He works for my company, and I've been tasked with bringing him up to speed on how Canadian business works. Little did I know we would end up doing so much more than that together.

I learned quite a bit about Ryan from working together. His father Timothy James Calhoun is Irish and his mother Lamika Johnson Ryan is African-American. They met in the City of Atlanta thirty years ago, fell in love and got married. Ryan is biracial and doesn't consider himself Black. He tells everyone he's mixed. I never liked mixed guys. I always found them way too cocky. As if being light-skinned with light coloured eyes made them all that. And Ryan was definitely your typical mixed guy in that respect. However, he quickly learned that in the Confederation of Canada, the rules are different. Americans think us Canadians are friendly and polite, watching hockey and drinking our Tim Horton's. As if! Life is tough up north. You've got to be tough to survive in the cutthroat, deeply racist world of a Canadian corporation. Even in a racially diverse and liberal place like the City of Toronto. The best City in Canada is progressive in many ways but some things just never change.

I watched Ryan butt heads with some of the cocky White guys at the company. They're threatened by minorities in general and are really not used to seeing a smart, successful executive who is Black and male. And that's how they saw Ryan Calhoun, as Black and male, though he considered himself mixed. Why is it that mixed people with Black mothers and White fathers tend to reject their Black side while mixed folks with Black fathers and White mothers embrace their Black side? I don't know. It's a mystery to me. Still, I hated to watch a Black man suffer unnecessarily and tried to give the cocky Ryan some advice. When you're a highly educated Black man living and working in a North American corporation, White men will see you as a threat.

I find it kind of funny and sad at the same time. They're the most insecure of men, in spite of the obscene amount of power so many of them get handed to them. Black men by sharp contrast are naturally confident and masculine regardless of their occupations. They see themselves as men first and foremost. A White guy needs his job and income to validate his masculinity. My Black men are different. They hold their heads high. They carry themselves like kings. White men can't match their natural swagger. That's why I love my Black men. A lot of Black men are into women of other races and a lot of Black women are giving up on Black men altogether but I still got my faith in my brothers.

Ryan and I became friends, of a sort. There were twelve Blacks, seventeen East Indians and sixteen Chinese employees in the Financial Management Division of the Target Corporation in downtown Toronto. The other seventy or so employees of the Division were Caucasian. Long before I joined Target, I knew the importance of networking. You can't make it out there alone. No matter who you are. I cultivated friendships with other minority businessmen and minority businesswomen around the City of Toronto. I'm a proud member of the Toronto Black Professionals Association. And a member of the National Association of Black MBAs, which I joined while I spent one semester at Northeastern University in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, prior to graduating from the University of Ottawa. Ryan thinks he's Superman or something. I'm sorry but real life doesn't work like that. Even U.S. President Obama wouldn't be where he is if it weren't for the help of a vast network of supporters. You can't shatter the glass ceiling solo.

That's what I tried to stress to Ryan. And slowly he began to get it. I'm twenty eight years old. I moved to the Province of Ontario, Canada, from my hometown of Quartier Morin in Northern Haiti when I was twenty two years old. I came to the Confederation of Canada with nothing. Just a gal with a dream. Fast forward six years and I'm a new Canadian citizen and also a rising power in the world of Canadian business. I worked tirelessly. I had to first get a work permit and a social insurance number before I could even work at a damn Tim Horton's restaurant in the City of Ottawa. I had to get a study permit before I could enrol at the University of Ottawa. They charged me international rates the first two years, before my family's sponsorship of me enabled me to become a permanent resident of the Confederation of Canada.

From then on they charged me regular rates at the University of Ottawa. Yeah, this Haitian mama hasn't had an easy life in the Confederation of Canada, ladies and gentlemen. The life of a Black immigrant in North America is never easy. Of course, Ryan wouldn't know anything about that. He's the mixed-race son of a White man and a Black woman. He was born, raised and educated in the United States of America. Canadians are perpetually in awe of Americans. In everything except hockey. That's why Ryan got hired by the Target Corporation so damn quickly. I know of so many Black Canadian men and Black Canadian women from Toronto, Montreal, Calgary and Vancouver with MBAs, MFAs and whatnot who can't get jobs with the big Canadian companies. Yet this Black guy from America simply waltzed into an executive position. Yeah, Ryan and I lived in different worlds.

This might sound a bit prejudiced but I kind of don't like mixed folks. Especially the ones with Black mothers and White fathers. First of all, they don't usually consider themselves Black. What the fuck? If you're half Black, you're still Black! Just between you and me, I wouldn't have supported Obama's run for the Presidency if he considered himself biracial instead of Black. Luckily, he's different from other mixed people in that he loves his Black heritage and he clearly loves Black women. I'm glad I campaigned for Obama in Boston during my semester at Northeastern University. As a Canadian I couldn't vote for him but I could definitely support him. Mixed folks are a complicated bunch, folks. And I feel that they have an unfair advantage over us regular Black folks in the world out there. And many of them are cocky and arrogant because of it. I placed Ryan in that category until he began to surprise me. Slowly but surely I began to notice certain changes in him. At work he no longer restricted his conversations to White men and White women. In fact, he became extra friendly with other minority employees. Especially Black men and Black women. One day, he surprised me by asking me out to dinner. And I surprised myself by accepting.

Ryan and I dined at Chateau Henri, this lovely Haitian restaurant near downtown Toronto. We sat there and ate some delicious Caribbean food while talking about life, and work. I found myself noticing how handsome Ryan was up close. He kind of reminds me of that Black actor from that short-lived U.S. television series Undercovers. As much as I hate to admit it, some of these mixed guys are really hot. I love my regular Black men, though. I'll take African actor Idris Elba over mixed stud Boris Kodjoe any bloody day. Dark skin is hot. Ryan and I talked business, and he seemed to heed my advice. We also delved into personal territory. He asked me whether or not I had a boyfriend. I sighed. The last guy I seriously dated, Ahmed Hussein, was a handsome Somalian guy from Carleton University in the City of Ottawa.

I really cared about Ahmed but I guess it was not meant to be. After two years together he left me for a fat White woman named Beatrice O'Connell. Ryan listened to my sad little tale, and I saw some surprising sensitivity in his eyes. I don't like talking about the past. Ahmed did what he did, but I've moved on. I'm not bitter or anything. I can do better than him. I know I can. Ryan gently reached for my hand, and looked into my eyes. He told me that ahmed was a damn fool for leaving a fine Black woman like me for some ugly White bitch. I stared at him, shocked by his words. A moment later he shocked me some more by leaning closer and planting a soft kiss on my lips. To say that I was shocked would be an understatement.

When our lips parted, I looked at Ryan, beyond surprise at this point. He smiled almost shyly and told me he'd been wanting to kiss me for ages. I smiled, and told him I wasn't expecting that move from him. Ryan grinned, and told me he found me quite beautiful. I shook my head at that. Wow. Okay, then. And that's how it all began. My whirlwind romance with Ryan Calhoun, the half-Black, half-Irish and all Macho Man from the office, took me by surprise. Over the next few weeks, I learned a lot about him and about myself. Ryan wasn't what I thought he was, not exactly. When I told him I thought he was into White women, he laughed so hard he almost cried. Looking me in the eyes, Ryan told me he'd been into dark-skinned Black women ever since High School. When I added him on Facebook I saw pictures of his exes. All of them were tall, curvy and dark-skinned Black women. No light-skinned women and no White women at all. Imagine that!

I was attracted to Ryan and I admitted it to myself. Maybe that's why the mixed stud got on my nerves. We got along wonderfully, folks. Ryan surprised me with his knowledge about Black History and Black culture. He knew about the Heroes of the Haitian War of Independence. He could have written biographies for Jean Jacques Dessalines, Toussaint Louverture and Alexandre Petion. Great Black men who stood up to the European colonial powers in the Caribbean of the 1800s and founded the first independent Black Republic of the New World. My beautiful and embattled homeland, which stands tall come quake or occupation. Ryan told me that his mother was from the Caribbean, and although she came from Jamaica rather than Haiti, she was proud of our history. I looked at Ryan, amazed at he told me all this. Man was I wrong about him!

I am not going to lie. I think Ryan is hot, and I think I'm ready to give him the business. One night it happened after we came home from watching the movie Thor. I was glad to see my man Idris Elba cast as a Viking Warrior. Hey, some White folks in the movie theatre audience were upset at the sight of a Black Viking fighting alongside Thor but I reminded some of them that they didn't mind when that White dude from Brokeback Mountain played the title role of in Prince of Persia while ago. Turnabout is fair play the way I see it. Ryan laughed at my feistiness in the theatre. He told me I rocked. I took him home and fucked his brains out. I wasn't sure how a mixed guy would measure up in the sack. My pureblood Black men usually deliver but Ryan the mixed stud didn't disappoint. He rocked my world, and then some.

We were making out the whole cab ride to my place in Brampton. Ryan kissed me passionately and fondled my breasts through my red blouse. We went straight to my bedroom. I sat him down while I undressed, showing him what I got. I'm almost six feet tall and kind of chubby, with large breasts, wide hips and a big round butt. And my skin is Black as ebon. Ryan seemed to love what he saw. He licked his lips as I took off my blouse and kicked off my white pants, followed by my panties. I gestured for him to come to me. He practically jumped on the bed. He kissed me passionately and began licking a path from my lips to my chest. Ryan fondled my breasts and licked the areolas. His hand made its way to my pelvic area and he slipped one finger then two inside my aching wet pussy. My pussy greedily swallowed his fingers. I urged him to fuck me with those fingers.

Ryan began licking my sweet pussy while working those magic fingers of his in and out of me. He even fingered my asshole while licking my pussy. I don't mind. Shoot, I'm no stranger to anal play. Not something I do every day but I like a good fuck in the ass every now and then. Ryan seemed to have guessed that. He slid two fingers up my ass while flicking his tongue over my clitoris, driving me absolutely nuts. Later, I returned the favour by giving that dick of his a good licking. In the past, I've honestly wondered whether mixed guys were packing. Ryan evidently had some strong Black DNA in him because his thing was frigging huge. At least nine inches, kind of thick and uncircumcised. I found that a nice change after sleeping with a Black Muslim guy for years. I love playing with foreskins. I gently pulled back his 'hood' and began sucking on his dick head while licking his balls. Ryan cried out in pleasure as I worked my brand of Black magic on him. I fingered his ass while sucking him too. And he really, really liked it.

I sucked Ryan until he came, and drank his manly seed. He tasted hot and salty. Kind of nice. We continued with our brand of fun. I climbed on top of him after slipping a Magnum condom on his cock. Then I began riding him. Ryan rested his hands on my hips and spanked my big ass while thrusting his cock deep inside of me. He fucked me good, making me squeal his name while we did our thing. Later we topped the night off with some anal action. I don't usually go that far with a guy during a first hook up but there's something about Ryan. He makes me want to do things. Like anal sex. I offered Ryan my ass and he took it without hesitation. He lovingly kissed my big ass and played with it for a bit. The guy actually licked my asshole before applying lotion all over it. Then he spread my ass cheeks wide open and pressed his dick against my backdoor. Ryan asked me if I was ready for him.

I said yes, and he gently penetrated me. I willed myself to relax as Ryan began working his dick into my asshole. I'm by no means an anal virgin but Ryan's dick was huge! Lucky for me he was gentle and we had plenty of lubricant. Slowly he worked a good portion of his dick into my asshole. I'm not going to lie. It kind of hurt, even though he was patient and we had plenty of lotion. However, it felt kind of good, you know? He filled my ass nicely with that magic stick of his, and fucked me till I came. I still can't believe it. I thought anal orgasms were a myth or something. I certainly had never had one before. It was beyond intense. Made me positively squeal before I collapsed in Ryan's waiting arms.

Man, after that experience Ryan owned my ass. The mixed stud had it going on and this Haitian sister couldn't get enough. And he was so good to me, too. We're talking about weekly flowers, dining in nice restaurants and making out in the elevators at work. On weekends he took me riding on his Harley Davidson motorcycle. The first time, we drove from Toronto to frigging Ottawa in three hours. I was so scared I almost pissed my pants but Ryan told me everything would be fine. And he was right. Yep, I think I'm falling in love with this charming, confusing, half-Black and half-Irish, infuriating and simply wonderful American stud. Who would have thought that would happen to me, Harriet Saint-Bernard, lifelong distruster of mixed people?

One weekend, out of the blue, Ryan took me to the City of Atlanta to meet his parents. Toronto to Atlanta is a really short flight. I must say I was nervous to meet my boyfriend's parents but things turned out okay. Even though they're divorced, they're still friendly with each other. Ryan's father Timothy Calhoun looked a lot like him, only much lighter and taller. During our visit I met his new wife Ming, a Chinese lady. I guess my boyfriend's old man really likes minority women! Ryan's mother Lamika lived in the Atlanta suburb of Buckhead with her lawyer boyfriend, an older Black guy named Lester Morrison who reminded me of the 1980s B-movie actor Steve James. Ryan's folks were really nice to me. Especially his mother. I saw where my boyfriend got his good looks from. Both of his folks were highly educated and good-looking. And they spoke in that southern accent I found so charming. Ryan and I returned to Toronto feeling quite content.

That night, we made passionate love. I loved my man and wanted to give myself to him completely. Things went a bit different, though. Timothy and I stopped by the local adult video store for some supplies and he really surprised me with an unusual request. Since I'm always happy to please my man, I went along with it. Which is how I ended up fucking my man with a strap-on dildo modeled after the dick of Black American porn superstar Lexington Steele. Hey, Ryan insisted on that one even though I wanted a smaller model. Ryan's request didn't really surprise me. I always suspected that Black guys who acted all macho in public had another side to them. And I was right. I kind of relished the thought of dominating him sexually. Before, he let me tie his hands and lightly spank him before sex but the strap-on thing took kinky sex to a whole new level. Ryan knelt before me and sucked on my strap-on. He sucked it real good, polishing my glistening plastic cock with his tongue. He didn't look like he was new to this either. Should I be alarmed? Nah, my guy is just kinky.

After Ryan finished sucking my dildo, I made him turn around and bend over. The way he usually took me when we had anal sex. I took out my belt and gave his sexy high-yellow ass a good beating. Ryan screamed as I gave his butt a good thrashing with my belt. I'm not cruel or anything but I felt powerful while belting my man's ass. His screams actually turned me on. I wasn't expecting that. We continued with this brand of twisted, kinky fun. For the grand finale, I fucked Ryan's ass with my strap-on dildo. I spread his ass cheeks wide open, applied lubricant all over his hole and pressed my dildo against his backdoor. I asked him if he was ready for me. He nodded. I began fucking him gently, easing the dildo into his ass. I don't know who was more pleased when the dildo went in, Ryan or myself. I couldn't believe this shit. I was really fucking my macho boyfriend in the ass with a strap-on dildo! Me! Wow.

I held onto Ryan's hips firmly as I fucked him. He groaned as I penetrated his ass. I asked him if he was okay. Breathlessly he urged me to continue. I'll take that as a yes. I began to really pound his ass with the dildo as it became obvious to me that my macho boyfriend was no stranger to butt fucking. To really enjoy the experience I flipped him on his back. I wanted to look into those pretty eyes of his as I fucked him in the ass. I think I went kind of nuts with the feeling of power I had over him for a minute. I heard myself curse and berate this handsome young man I loved so much. I saw my hands pinch his nipples, flick my fingers roughly over his cock and balls. I saw myself grabbing his face and spitting into his handsome visage. I heard him scream and I heard myself howling at him to scream louder. My lips ordered him to admit to me that he was my Black bitch. With a sharp cry Ryan finally admitted that he was Black, and he was also my little bitch. I laughed and pressed a button on my specially designed strap-on. And unleashed a flood of hot artificial cum deep inside Ryan's asshole. My Black stud screamed louder and longer than I ever heard a man scream before. Almost like a dying scream. And you know what? I loved it!