When a man is gripped by the seemingly all-powerful force that is lust, there's absolutely nothing he can do. My name is Troy James Whitehead. My friends call me T.J. for short. As for the Whitehead thing, weird last name for a big and tall young Black man, I know. I was born in the City of Decatur, State of Georgia, and moved to the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, three years ago. I came here to attend grad school at Carleton University after flunking out of Georgia Tech. Civil engineering is my passion and Carleton University has one of the best programs in Canada. Life hasn't been a bed of roses in the Canadian capital but I'm managing just fine, I guess.
I have a confession to make, ladies and gentlemen. I have a thing for the forbidden fruit, and I have no other way of satisfying my urges. I have to pursue that which I crave. Like many young Black men out there, I have a thing for White women. What distinguishes me from most of the others is that I like older White women. Take Theresa Tremblay for example. I first spotted this sexy White mama while walking through the Rideau Shopping Center. Now, there are a lot of snobs in the City of Ottawa and by far, White women from Theresa's age bracket make up the bulk of them. That makes them a challenge for a predator like myself, and I like it that way.
I spotted her walking into a fancy clothing store, dressed in a White silk blouse and dark gray pants. Five-foot-eight, chubby but alright, with short blonde hair starting to go silver here and there. A round face that seems friendly, until you see the steely blue eyes. Full lips that look sensual until downturned. Theresa Tremblay had Canadian government worker written all over her, I could tell that long before I saw the Canada Revenue Agency badge hanging around her neck. You got to see them in Ottawa, man. It's a very conservative-minded government town. Eighty percent of the good jobs here are in the government sector.
For the most part, government workers are snobs. I've dealt with them a lot lately, because I have a part-time job working as a security guard. My job sends me to a lot of government offices in the City of Ottawa. I do what I got to do to pay the bills. All for an inglorious twelve dollars and seventy five cents an hour. Isn't that peachy keen? I want to get my civil engineering degree in Canada because Canadian schools are much cheaper than American ones. Georgia Tech is much more expensive than Carleton University, even though I am paying international fees here. Isn't that a kick in the butt?
Anyhow, I saw that good-looking older White lady with the nice big ass and had to go over and say hi. I walked into the fancy clothing store, clad in my black silk shirt, blue jeans and dark gray Timberland boots. Oh, and my blue and White backpack with the Carleton University logo emblazoned all over it, of course. I'm proud of my new school because I found it nice and welcoming. I thought every school in the Canadian capital would be supremely White but Carleton University surprised me. Lots of students of African, Indian, Chinese, Arab and Filipino background call this school of mine home. There are so many Chinese and Indian students in the civil engineering program that I feel that they're taking over. I've seen some Black students in the engineering building. Most of them are from places like Nigeria, Jamaica, Haiti, Trinidad, Ethiopia and Somaliland. Black folks from the Caribbean and continental Africa. No African-Americans. I guess I'm the only one.
With my Carleton University gear and my all-American swag, I walked into the store and immediately was greeted by a nervous-looking Chinese chick who asked me if she could help me find anything. I kind of exaggerated my southern drawl and told her that I would be fine. The good-looking older White lady looked at me curiously, and I smiled at her. Our eyes met. I expected her to just give me a fake smile like so many White women. They're so fake sometimes it's not even funny. This lady smiled at me and it was a genuine smile. She walked over to me and asked me if I came from the States. I nodded, smiled and told her that I was a proud son of Decatur City in the State of Georgia. The lady smiled and told me she had a son studying at Morehouse College. That made me pause. Morehouse College is the best school on the planet for men of African descent. Located in the heart of metropolitan Atlanta, State of Georgia. Um, what's a White dude doing there?
The lady seemed to read my mind, and then she flashed me a picture in her wallet. The picture was that of a light-skinned young brother, not a day over twenty. The lady proudly told me this was her son Mathieu Junior. I smiled and told her that her son was going to have a blast at Morehouse College. I studied at Morehouse College for three semesters before switching to Georgia Tech. I'm proud to have been a Morehouse Man! The lady held out her hand, introducing herself as Theresa Anne Tremblay. I shook her hand. Her handshake was warm and firm. Just like the rest of her, as I would someday discover.