What's up people? My name is Wendy Darcy-Rousseau and I'm a young black woman living in the City of Toronto, Ontario. I was born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, to a Haitian immigrant father, William Darcy, and a white Canadian mother, Julianne Tremblay. After moving to the City of Toronto for school, I fell in love with this majestic town. I graduated with a Master's degree in Nursing from the University of Toronto, and now work at a local hospital. I am happily married to a six-foot-tall, dark and handsome, muscular chocolate stud named Stephen Rousseau.
Stephen Rousseau comes from a prominent Haitian-Canadian family in the environs of Gatineau, Quebec, and studied criminal justice at the University of Montreal. He moved to the City of Toronto to work as a police constable and when I first met him, I thought Stephen Rousseau was a dream come true. A tall, masculine and highly educated young black man with a good job, and he loves the sisters. I wasn't about to let him slip through my grasp. We got married eight months after we first met. I love my husband. Lately, we've been going through a rough patch.
All relationships have their ups and downs, but mine has hit a major speed bump since my hubby Stephen Rousseau revealed to me that he's bisexual. I kind of suspected that Stephen might have bisexual tendencies because he goes to websites like Tranny TGP and TS Pussy Hunters a lot, but I told myself he was just kinky because, well, all men look at porn. Well, I was wrong. A few weeks ago, Stephen sat me down and talked to me, revealing that he swings both ways. As the biracial wife of a black man, how am I supposed to take that?
I don't consider myself homophobic and in fact, I support gay marriage and gay rights but I'm not sure how I feel about having a bisexual man for a husband. You have to understand that I didn't sign up this shit. I thought Stephen Theodore Rousseau, my lawfully wedded husband was one hundred percent man but it turns out the dude has been keeping secrets from me, his darling wife. I think any woman reading this would relate to my fears. Hell, a lot of women I know would call a divorce lawyer within the hour if their hubby told them he likes both females and dudes. So why am I staying with Stephen Rousseau?
Love makes you do crazy things, ladies and gentlemen. I was going crazy worrying about Stephen and the shit he just dropped in my lap, pardon my French. The only person I confided in about all this is my colleague Lloyd Wood from work. Lloyd is a short, skinny white dude I met while rushing to the elevator on my first day at the hospital where I work. He's the one who held the door for me. We've been friends ever since. Lloyd is originally from the City of Brockton, Massachusetts. Apparently, while visiting Toronto a while ago, Lloyd fell in love with this town and moved there. He's got a Nursing degree from Northeastern University and he's one of maybe five male nurses in the entire hospital. And the only cute one.
When I sat Lloyd down and told him what was going on with my husband Stephen Rousseau, he looked at me thoughtfully and told me he had something to share with me. Lloyd looked me in the eye and told me that he was bisexual. I stared at him, stunned. Damn. I was NOT expecting that. For the second time in a week, another man in my life was coming out as a switch hitter. Why are there so many bisexual males in Toronto? Is there something in the water?
I have known Lloyd for years and knew him to be a friendly, masculine and normal guy who flirted with the female receptionists at work and read comic books in the lunch room. Had he been keeping this secret this whole time? I got mad and accused Lloyd of being a liar, and he got defensive and accused me of being judgemental and homophobic. I denied both, and then stormed off. Lloyd followed me and confronted me in the hospital cafeteria, saying that I ought to be thankful that my hubby Stephen was honest enough with me to tell me the truth.
When those words left Lloyd's mouth, they struck a nerve with me. I realized that I hadn't been exactly easy for Stephen to deal with since he came out to me, and it must haven taken a lot of bravery on his side to be truthful with me. Lots of bisexual men lie to their women and to themselves, Lloyd assured me. I nodded, and thanked my lucky stars that my husband Stephen Rousseau and my good friend Lloyd were both honest men.
That night, I went home and had a long talk with my hubby Stephen. I thanked him for his honesty and begged him for forgiveness. Stephen nodded, and kissed me passionately. We began making love right then and there. I hadn't allowed Stephen to touch me since he told me he was bisexual. I realized then that my womanly body had desperately missed his masculine touch. I undressed and my hubby feasted his eyes on my curvy form.
Stephen looked at me and whispered softly, marveling at my beauty. When he said that, I blushed deeply. I stand five-foot-nine, chubby but sexy, with light brown skin, curly black hair and lime-green eyes. I got the best of both worlds. A black woman's natural curves, big tits and big round butt, plus my mocha skin tone, which I inherited from my French Canadian mother. To Stephen's eyes, I was simply beautiful. My sexy hubby kissed me and sucked on my tits while fingering my hairy cunt.
When Stephen kissed a path from my tits to my thighs, and finally buried his face between my legs, I shuddered. For Stephen's tongue and fingers had begun working wonders on my pussy. The dude definitely knew his way around the female body. Soon Stephen had me crying out in ecstasy. When he put me on all fours and thrust his long and thick, dark dick into my pussy, I begged him for more. Stephen smacked my ass and pulled my curly, kinky dark hair while ravaging my pussy with his magnificent Haitian cock. And I loved it.
Much later, Stephen and I lay side by side on the bed, panting. I was still horny, so I got on all fours, face down and ass up, and told Stephen to fuck me in the ass. My sexy Haitian hubby hesitated. I winked and told Stephen to fuck me the same way he fucked those guys and transsexuals he's probably been banging behind my back. Stephen scoffed, and assured me that he had never cheated on me. When I saw the hurt look in Stephen's eyes, I apologized. Stephen smiled and kissed me, then told me to relax.
The gorgeous Haitian stud got behind me, and spread my ass cheeks wide open. Stephen began licking and fingering my asshole, and I moaned softly at this sweet invasion. After giving my butt hole a good probing with his fingers and tongue, Stephen lubricated me with Aloe cream and then pressed his hard dick against my backdoor. Gently, Stephen pushed his dick into my asshole. I gritted my teeth against the pain as Stephen began fucking me. Slowly at first, then with more roughness. Stephen filled my asshole with his dick. I cried. I howled. I moaned. It hurt. It felt good. It wrecked my ass. It rocked. And I absolutely loved it. What can I say? I'm that rare woman who loves a good ass fucking!
