The hidden truths about the ones we love is not something that any human being should ever casually seek out, ladies and gentlemen. I ought to know, because someone close to me did that, and it changed my life. Changed all of our lives actually. The name is Alexandra Devonshire, and I'm a young woman living in Bristol City, in beautiful southwest England. A lot of folk are up in arms about the influx of immigrants in England these days, but I happen to one of the few who welcome them. The way I see it, we're all human, and this world was meant to be shared by all of us. I was brought up in the Protestant faith and it matters to me, though I consider myself more spiritual than religious these days. I believe in God, it's His fan club I don't particularly like.
Anyhow, at Bristol Baptist College, I met someone who changed my life forever. My soul mate, if you will. Eugene Marcellin, a six-foot-two, lean and ruggedly handsome young Black man. He's originally from the island of Haiti and moved to England five years ago with his family. Eugene was easy on the eyes, and spoke with the most delicious French accent. A lot of girls from all over find British accents sexy, but I'm that rare British gal who loves French accents. Eugene and I had some of the same classes, for we were both architecture students. We came from different worlds, and you wouldn't think that we'd mesh too well, but we totally clicked. Like most Haitians, Eugene was brought up in a strict Catholic household, and he was a bit more conservative in his views than I would like, but we got along wonderfully.
I believe that there's much more to all of us than meets the eye, and I'm always trying to see into other people. I'm not nosy, like some wankers out there, I'm just inquisitive, that's all. Take my girlfriend Ashley Kingsbury for example. Ashley is originally from Jamaica, and we've known each other for ten years now, ever since she and her family moved next door to me. She's around five-foot-ten, curvy and dark-skinned, with the kind of short hair that's considered butch by most standards. At first glance, Ashley seems like a butch Black lesbian. Yet you couldn't be more wrong about her. Ashley loves dick, and hops on it every chance she gets, or so it seems to me. Ashley is really into White guys, and not just any random White guys. She favors the ones with what she calls the Teutonic look. They have to be tall, and blond-haired with blue eyes. I'm five-foot-nine, slim and fit, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Ashley once told me that if I were male, she'd do me. How about that? I smiled when she said that. Apparently she didn't remember the experimentation we did that summer, back at the academy's all-female camp. I vividly remember the two of us exploring each other's bodies in those steamy summer nights. I never told Ashley or anyone else this, but I've been with many girls since those days.
I keep telling Ashley that she's into Aryan guys and she denies it, showing her Black Panther Party books and saying that she's a proud Black sister, she just loves to fuck "the enemy". Whatever floats her boat, right? I'm not the type to judge. Anyhow, Ashley recently introduced me to her latest fling, Andri Besmir, a six-foot-one, lean and sexy, blond-haired and green-eyed guy from the town of Dakovica, somewhere in the Republic of Kosovo. He's studying mathematics at Trinity College, and I must say that he's easy on the eyes. I keep telling Ashley that we should double date. I mean, I think Eugene and I would have a good time hanging out with Ashley and Andri. Ashley kept making lame excuses about her and Andri being new in their relationship and her not being ready. When I mentioned my suspicions to Eugene, he laughed and shook his head. I stared at him, and asked him to explain himself. Eugene told me that Black guys with White girlfriends weren't welcome around Black girls with White boyfriends. It's an old, unwritten rule in the Black community. When Eugene said that, I was stunned.
All of a sudden, a lot of things made sense. Before I met Eugene, I had never dated anyone who wasn't White, and Ashley had no problem double dating with me and my guy along with her blond guy of the week. Now that I'm dating a Black guy, Ashley and I seem to hang out less and less, and we talk less and less. Do Black women with White boyfriends have a problem with White women with Black boyfriends? I've seen a lot of interracial couples but to the best of my knowledge, I've never seen a friendship between such a foursome. That's certainly interesting from a sociological viewpoint, and also kind of sad. Still, even though what Eugene said bothered me, mainly because it rang true, I wanted to remain friends with Ashley. Still, she kept putting off my requests for a four-way hangout. What's up with that?
One day, quite by accident, Eugene and I ran into Ashley and Andri. We were hanging out at a shopping mall in downtown Bristol, and there they were in the food court. This time, surprisingly, Eugene took the lead and walked up to Ashley and Andri, inviting them to grab dinner with us. Ashley flashed a nervous smile, while Andri looked at Eugene and I. Andri and Eugene shook hands, and just like that, the deal was done. The four of us sat down at a table together. Ashley and I made mind-numbingly boring small talk, talking about our classes at Bristol Baptist College, and our families, and everything except the elephant in the room. Much to our surprise, our boyfriends were getting along just fine. Eugene and Andri were talking, and seemed at ease with each other. Eugene had a lot of questions about Kosovo, and asked Andri whether everyone in his homeland was Muslim. Andri took out the silver crucifix he wore tucked into his T-shirt, and told Eugene he was a proud Eastern Orthodox Christian. Eugene smiled, and they continued talking.
Ashley and I looked at each other, and then we looked at our guys. Slowly, we smiled. Forgive me for being short-sighted, Ashley said sheepishly. I shook my head, and told her everything was cool. Sometimes I think us women can be our own worst enemies. Some Black guys don't like seeing Black women with White guys. Some White guys don't like seeing White women with Black men. Most people don't care one way or another in the racially diverse world of today. England is one of the most ethnically, religiously and racially diverse nations on this planet, after America, Brazil and South Africa, of course. Anyone can date or marry anyone up here. As Ashley and I caught up with each other on our latest activities, our guys continued bantering. Is it me or are they smiling at each other weirdly? I pointed that out to Ashley, who shrugged.
Eugene and Andri got really into their conversation, to the point of ignoring Ashley and I. Andri asked Eugene about the conservative mindset of most Haitians, and asked him what he thought of same-sex marriage being legal in many European nations. Eugene smiled and told him that he recently added the wedding of his gay cousin Jonathan in Boston, Massachusetts, to a White dude. Andri smiled, and shook Eugene's hand again, congratulating him when Eugene said he was the only member of his family to support his cousin Jonathan. Ashley and I looked Andri and Eugene, who were all chummy with each other, and she jokingly asked the two of them if they wanted to get together without us. Andri's answer surprised everyone at the table. Looking at Ashley and I, Andri said that while he loved women, a roll in the hay with the fellas once in a while was a lot of fun.
What the fuck? Did Andri just admit to being bisexual? I almost choked on my sandwich. Ashley stared at Andri, her eyes wide as saucers. She asked Andri if he was kidding, and Andri shook his head. Eugene looked at Andri, and seemed ready to say something when Ashley got up to leave. Andri touched her arm and pleaded with her to stay. Ashley batted his hand away, and glared at me. Wordlessly she asked me to come with her. I wanted to, more than anything in the world, but something made me stay. The look of disappointment and betrayal on my lifelong best friend's face wounded me. Ashley grabbed her purse, called Andri something I won't print here, and took off. Eugene and I looked at Andri, who seemed close to tears. He sighed, and looked at us. He excused himself for causing any problems, then shook Eugene's hand. Eugene held onto Andri's hand a bit longer than I would have liked, then told him that some women just don't understand, and wished him luck. Andri nodded, then went after Ashley.
Eugene and I sat alone at the table, and my mind swirled with questions. So much had happened so fast, I didn't know where to begin. Eugene was the one who broke the ice. Gently, he took my hand in his, then told me he was bisexual. I nodded slowly, absorbing it. I looked at him, crossed my arms and asked him when he was going to tell me. Eugene told me that he cared for me, and felt conflicted about being bisexual because of his conservative Christian upbringing and societal intolerance. He also told me that although he found both guys and girls attractive, he'd only been with women. When I didn't say anything, he took it the wrong way. He sighed, and told me that he understood if I didn't want to speak to him again. I grabbed his hand, and glared at him. All kinds of intense emotions coursed through me. Anger at him for not telling me sooner. Fear that someday he might leave me for a man. Frustration at myself for not detecting this earlier. But mostly, I felt love for him. So I kissed him.
That night, Eugene and I went home and made passionate love. We explored each other's bodies with a passion neither of us had known the other possessed, though we had sex dozens of times before. Eugene put me on all fours, spanked my ass and thrust his big Caribbean cock into my cunt. I rode Eugene hard, because even though I'm usually a sweet and easygoing gal, in the bedroom I love the rough stuff. Eugene pounded his cock into me, filling me up completely while smacking my ass and pulling my hair. My man did me just the way I liked it. Nice. Afterwards, we held each other and talked about the day's events. What a day, huh? While we were cuddling and talking, my phone rang. It was Ashley. I tried calling her three times earlier and she was getting back to me now, at three in the morning? Damn. What's her bloody problem?
