Haitian Men Are Ings

Exam time at Carleton University. A sweltering heat blankets the City of Ottawa, Ontario. We're in early April. Do you know what this means? With so many chicks walking around with short skirts and ultra-short shorts in the blazing heat at school, a brother like me just can't focus. Trust me, if you were there, you'd be distracted too. My name is Jean Franklin Guillaume. I was born in the town of Quartier Morin in the Republic of Haiti, and I've lived in the Province of Ontario, Canada, since 2004. Eight years later and I'm still loving life in Canada's Capital region. Let me tell you about some of my adventures.

So here I was, sitting in the library when I spotted this chick who kind of looked familiar. A fine-looking, thick and dark-skinned sister. I couldn't remember her name to save my life but I'd recognize that ass anywhere. Hot damn. That chick had a serious booty on her. She was around five-foot-ten, dark-skinned, with dreadlocks and as I mentioned before, a big round ass. That ass was staring at me, swinging from side to side like a pendulum of temptation in those tight red shorts she wore as she made her way through the second floor of the University library. Hmmm. Hot damn. Now I know where I knew her from. My old psychology class during Fall 2011 at Carleton University. Her first name is Mary, her last name is some tough to pronounce African shit.

I got up, gently stroked my goatee, and walked up to her. How shall I swing it? We're at the end of the year so I can't play the 'new here' game. Also, she might remember me from that psych class, cause I had a hell of a time passing it. I always do fine with my core classes and lousy with my electives. I'm a Criminology major, by the way. Kind of weird, eh? I approached Mary the African chick, and she looked me up and down. Hello Stephen, she said nonchalantly. My smile was frozen in place. So she remembers my name. Cool. I smiled, and asked her what she was up to. Mary told me I hadn't changed a bit, then she walked away, sashaying that booty from side to side for good measure. I watched her go, and barely suppressed a whimper of lust. Damn. I can't let this one go. I need to wax that ass. How am I going to pull that off? I go back to the City of Toronto when exams end. I need to convince Mary to give up the booty long before then, otherwise she never will.

As I stood there, watching Mary the African chick with the thick ass walk away, someone called my name. I turned around, and found myself gazing at Drake Henderson. A short, light-skinned Black guy from the City of Calgary, Alberta. He's a fruity bastard who thinks he's slick. Now, I'm not gay or bisexual but I needed help passing my Intro to Criminology class during freshman year and Drake happen to be teacher's assistant at Carleton University, working for the same professor I had. I let him suck my dick a few times just so he'd go easy on me when correcting my paper. I ended up getting a solid B on the final exam and a C plus for the course. Not my finest work but at least my Black ass passed. I like Criminology but some of the courses I take are tough as hell. Anyway, my arrangement with Drake should have ended there but the fruity fool keeps hassling me. He wants some of my dick and honestly, I don't want to give him any. Even if I were gay or bisexual, I wouldn't deal with someone like Drake. He's a total flamer, man. Worse than the Human Torch.

I rolled my eyes and looked at Drake. He followed my gaze and saw Mary. In a bitchy tone, Drake told me that Nigerian women like Mary Adewale seldom gave up the booty to men outside their ethnicity. I stared at the fruity motherfucker. How in hell did he know her full name? As if reading my mind, Drake told me that he knew pretty much everyone at Carleton University. I snorted. Yeah, I believe him. Drake looked at my crotch and as usual, begged me for a little piece. I shook my head. I don't know why I attract these queer motherfuckers, man. I'm six-foot-three, broad-shouldered and muscular, with dark brown skin and curly Black hair. People say I look a little bit like Mister Marcus, the world-famous African-American Porn Star. I'm not bald like he is but he's a cool cat. I love his movies where he's smashing them bitches pussy. His scenes with starlets like Nyomi Banxxx and Joclyn Stone absolutely rock. That brother can handle his own, for real. I have a ton of his DVDs at home, both the ones where he's banging the sisters and those where he's fucking some white bitches. I don't care. He's awesome.

I looked Drake up and down, and shook my head. No way, no how. Our thing was a one-time thing. I am not gay or bisexual. Yeah, I did stand up naked in Drake's bedroom and I let him suck my dick and lick my balls. He was actually a pretty good cock sucker. Better than some of the bitches I've fucked at Carleton. The last chick I let suck my dick, this Arab woman named Fatima, did a lousy job at it. I should mention that she had braces and at twenty five, her chunky Lebanese Canadian ass was sexually inexperienced. Unlike Drake, who was good at what he did, and when I came, he drank my seed. Yeah, I had fun with Drake. I'm not going to lie. However, it was a one-time deal. I don't have sex with men. I only fuck women. I'm a proud Haitian man, a good Catholic and a staunch heterosexual. I walked away from Drake, and went into the quad outside the library. I spotted Mary, and waved at her. She rolled her eyes but waved back anyway. I smiled and walked up to her. Maybe I still got a chance, you know?