My name is Megan Woodland. I've always been a kinky white slut who does her best to improve racial relations in the community. I guess that's why black guys like me so much. That's more than okay by me because I like them too. More than they will ever know. In the 2008 Presidential Election, I'm supporting a handsome, distinguished and qualified black man over an old codger of a white man and a mean-spirited redneck white woman. Two years ago when a handsome and eloquent black man ran for the Governorship of my home state, I supported him. What can I say, folks? I love black men! I'm forty years old and stand five feet ten inches tall, a bit thick, with big tits and a wide, plump ass. My hair is blonde-white and my eyes are a steely blue. I'm of Irish and Latin stock. Which explains my big ass and finely curved body. By day, I work as a defense attorney in the city of Boston. By night, I please more black males than affirmative action.
Right now, I'm spending some quality time with my newfound friends Jackson Jacobs and Jamal Stanwood. It's after hours. The other lawyers of the firm are gone. I'm usually the only one who pulls all-nighters. I'm celebrating a great victory with my clients. I first met them about a month ago when they came to my office. You see, they had gotten pulled over by two officers from the Boston Police Department. One of these officers had been cited for racial profiling before but never really faced any real reprimandation. His name is Dwight and he'd been a Boston cop for almost ten years. His partner that day was rookie cop Sarah Patchwork. They stopped my clients car and searched it. They also verbally abused the two young black men. What they don't know is that these weren't exactly ordinary black guys. They were college students, and the high-achieving sons of good families.
Jackson Jacobs and Jamal Stanwood are both student-athletes at my alma mater, the South End Technical Institute or S.E.T.I. Ah, this brings back some good memories of my college days. Even back then, I was totally into black guys. My first black guy was Raymond, from the S.E.T.I. varsity football team. I was quite pleased to know both Jackson and Jamal were football players. When I came to S.E.T.I. in 1990, they were just beginning to field intercollegiate sports. They added football, basketball, ice hockey, gymnastics, fencing, cross country, soccer, wrestling, swimming, baseball, volleyball and golf for men along with field hockey, basketball, cross country, soccer, volleyball, ice hockey, gymnastics, swimming, softball and golf for women. The varsity teams compete in the NCAA Division Two. We had club sports in men's rugby, women's cycling, men's water polo and women's rugby. I eagerly joined the women's rugby club, which was coached by an ex-football player. A handsome black stud who unfortunately was married. That didn't stop us from hooking up discreetly all over campus.
Anyhow, back to the story. Jamal and Jackson had been wrongfully stopped by the police. All the cops saw was a bright red convertible with two young black men inside. If that's not racial profiling, I don't know what is. I went before a grand jury to proceed with my lawsuit against the Boston Police Department for racial profiling. It amazes me how racist some people can be. They can cheer for a black man when he's leading their favorite college football or basketball team to glory but they will avoid him and fear him everywhere else. Such hypocrisy. I've never met a black man I found threatening. They're just people. Skin color doesn't make anyone a criminal. I represented my clients interests to the best of my ability. In the end, the Boston Police Department's lawyers settled the case for three hundred grand. I could have gotten more but I didn't want to press my luck. The judges in Boston tend to be pals with the local cops. I'm surprised one of them didn't have the lawsuit thrown out.
So, there I was in my office with Jamal and Jackson. They were so happy. They didn't know how to thank me. I smiled and told them I knew exactly how they could thank me. They stared at me, stunned. I smiled cunningly. Just between you and me, I took their case when no lawyer would partially because I thought it had merit and partially because these two black college football studs are so damn cute. I admired them so much. Jamal especially. He stands six feet three inches tall, big and strong-looking, with dark brown skin and pale gray eyes. His long hair is braided into neat cornrows. And he looks impeccable in one of the many dark Armani suits his businessman father Lloyd bought him for the trial.
Jackson is no slouch either. He's around six-foot-two, with light brown skin, pale green eyes and short hair cut low on the sides. He's got a small goatee and looks really handsome. Over the course of the trial I learned that he was biracial. His father is black and his mother is Puerto Rican. I like all shades of black men. From blue-black to light bronze and damn-near-white. Someday, I might need to get treated for this addiction of mine but right now, I'm going to enjoy it.