Hindu Girls and Blac Men

There she is. My Purnima Rajani. My lovely East Indian goddess. My gorgeous wife. My angel. Hailing straight from the City of Chennai in the Tamil Nadu region of the Republic of India. Five-foot-eleven, curvy and sexy, with dark bronze skin, long lustrous Black hair and pale brown eyes. Born to a Tamil father and Sikh mother. Truly a unique blend, from what I know of Indian social politics. The first time I laid eyes on her at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, I knew she was the one for me. And this isn’t lust talking either. My name is Mathieu Saint-Armand. I was born and raised in the City of Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti. My family moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, when I was much younger. These days, I’m studying Law at Carleton University. And I’m madly in love with a certain East Indian lady.

When I met my lovely Purnima, I was just coming off a string of failed relationships. Grab a seat, ladies. You’re going to laugh at this one. Especially if you’re a Black woman reading this story. You were warned. My big-booty Jamaican girlfriend Wendy Stephenson dumped me for an Irish guy named Todd O’Leary. A guy I used to be friends with when I attended Algonquin College in the town of Nepean, Ontario. It’s awesome how your lady and your best guy friend can betray you, isn’t it? After Wendy did what she did, I was fed up with the Black females of the world. Seriously. Black women in Canada get mad when they see a brother with a White female or a woman of another race but they’re actively chasing White guys left and right these days. What gives? That is such a double standard! I decided to get me a White woman. Just to show them how it feels.

There was this cute, red-haired White chick named Samantha Connor in one of my Law classes. She always seemed to be checking me out so one day I asked her out. She said yes, and we started hanging out. Things seemed really cool. A lot of the sisters at the Carleton University campus suddenly realized that I exist. Translation? I’m a young Black guy walking around with a White woman. All Black women’s eyes on me! Samantha was cute and great in bed but she turns really crazy when she doesn’t take her pills for bipolar disorder. One time, she saw me flirting with Maria, a cute Hispanic chick at the Tim Horton’s cashier and she actually stabbed me. I spent three days in the Civic hospital hovering between life and death. No more White women for this brother. Those White bitches are crazy! My next relationship was with this Chinese gal named Amy Chang. Lovely gal from La Cite Collegiale, a French college in the town of Orleans, Ontario. She forgot to tell me that her conservative Chinese family hates Black people. Her parents support interracial relationships, especially those between Chinese girls and White men. But they hate seeing a Chinese gal with one of the African brothers. They’re such racists, man.

I decided I just about had it with Jamaican chicks, White chicks and Chinese ladies. I went back to my Haitian sisters. I met this lovely Haitian gal named Nadege Monpoint. She was a church-going gal from the University of Montreal. Cute face, nice body, big round ass and a good head on her shoulders. I thought I had hit the jackpot. Maybe some good old-fashioned Black Love could clear me out of this funk. Unbeknownst to me is the fact that Nadege was a closet lesbian. She was only dating me for a cover, to please her religious Haitian parents. She was hiding the fact that she was sleeping with this six-foot-tall, blonde-haired White chick named Brigid Lancer. Her roommate at the University of Montreal, if you can believe that. As you can see, women tend to break my heart whenever I try to get with them. After three failed relationships in one year, I decided to fly solo. Bitches weren’t worth shit in this Haitian brother’s sincere opinion. It didn’t matter if they were Black, White or whatever. It’s times like these that I almost wish I were born gay. Women make you suffer, man. Black men suffer most of all. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is against us. I swear to God. What did we do to the world? Why can’t the planet leave us peaceful Black men alone?

I decided to focus on my Law classes at Carleton University because my romantic life seemed doomed to hell. Talk about a cruel farce. I dated across the racial and social spectrum and seemed drawn to the worst that womankind had to offer. Crazy women. Racist women. Dangerous women. Why in hell is everything so fucking hard for me? I got myself a part-time job as a security guard on weekends. Just to make some extra money, you know? There’s only so much financial aid the federal government is willing to give to any Canadian student. I focused on school and work. I avoided females like the plague. With my luck, maybe the next woman I date would be a serial killer, you know? I had settled into my routine. Excel in my classes. Read my science fiction books. Play my video games. Watch my hot Black male/White female interracial porn videos. Especially the ones featuring Black porno guys like Brian Pumper, Mr. Marcus and Lexington Steele having their way with hot White chicks like Sara Jay, Nina Hartley, Sasha Grey and many others. Interracial porn rocks, but only the Black male/White female combo. I avoid all others. Although, Black guy/Asian chick porn is also hot. I avoided chicks at school because I didn’t need another heartbreak.

Yeah, I was perfectly settled into my solitary routine. And then along came Purnima Rajani. An exchange student from Alagappa University in the Tamil Nadu region of the Republic of India. To be honest, I’ve dated across the racial spectrum but avoided East Indian gals because they seemed even more racist against Black men in North America than Chinese folks. The first time I saw her, my heart skipped a beat. Women can do that to you. Mesmerize you with their beauty. Purnima and I had some classes in common. She was a Criminology student and some of their classes overlap with Law classes at Carleton University. Purnima wasn’t like the other East Indian gals I saw at Carleton University. Chicks from India only date Indian guys, Chinese guys and White guys. Between you and me, these guys aren’t too manly. Black men are where it’s at, White women know it, but East Indian women are still too timid to test the waters. So even though Purnima was extremely friendly to me, I wasn’t about to allow myself to become interested in her.

We had two classes together, Criminal Law 1001-A and Criminal Psychology 1002-G. Both were in the same building, not far from the University Center. I ran into Purnima often, and I was always polite but distant. It wasn’t always easy for me. The gal was really good-looking. She kind of reminds me of Hollywood starlet Salma Hayek, only younger, taller and curvier. Also, her skin tone is more like that of singer Jennifer Lopez, with a curvy body and a nice round ass that tennis legend Serena Williams would envy. On top of that, I often saw Purnima walking around with a clique of Black chicks. East Indian chicks in Ottawa hung out with Chinese women and White women. At least, that was the norm I’m used to. Purnima was different. I mean, I’ve never seen an Indian chick sporting a T-shirt featuring a bare-chested Will Smith. This gal was definitely puzzling. One day, against my better judgment, I approached her inside the campus library.

We sat inside the little restaurant at the center of the Carleton University library. For hours we talked. The more I learned about her, the more fascinated I became. Seriously. Purnima was a very interesting person. And she was fairly open-minded. When she asked me to join the Multicultural Alliance, I actually accepted. I’ve never been a joiner either in high school or university. However, I wanted to know more about Purnima. And it occurred to me that the feeling might be mutual. I wasn’t interested in romance, or casual sex. I just wanted a friend. A female friend who wasn’t genetically predisposed to bringing me pain. That’s all I wanted at that point. Purnima wanted more.

In hindsight, I was a fool for even trying to resist her. I should have realized by now that when women want something badly, they usually get it. Unless they live in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Slowly but surely, Purnima and I got to know each other. The cute East Indian gal with the big booty seemed determined to bring me out of my shell. Well, I tried to resist. I really did. Until the day she kissed me inside the Silver City Movie Theater in Ottawa. They say the first kiss lasts forever. We walked out of the theater, hand in hand. I felt so happy I almost cried. Especially when Purnima looked at me adoringly and told me I was the handsomest guy she knew. And then she kissed me again. This time, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her passionately. It wasn’t a furtive kiss inside a movie theater. It was a real kiss. Grinning, Purnima and I got on the bus, and made our way back to Carleton University. Ever the gentleman, I walked her back to her dorm. Am I nice or what?

The following weekend, I took her dancing inside Studio Night Club downtown. Doing the bump and grind with her was extremely hot, especially considering how frigging sensual she looked in a sleeveless red silk shirt and Black miniskirt. Hmmm. That night, I had an awesome time but I also got kind of drunk. Not my fault, I just felt high on life. Purnima and I took a cab back to Carleton. And I ended up passing out on her couch. Not the best way for me to end such a promising night. However, the morning after, I swore to Purnima I would never touch alcohol again. Sometimes, I get happy and I try stupid shit. It’s a guy thing. Purnima told me she forgave me. Then she took her clothes off and went into the shower. I admired her spectacular nude body, especially her wide hips, solid legs, big breasts and big round butt. Hot damn. I like what I saw. Purnima grinned, then told me to join her in the shower. I certainly did!

Once there, we began kissing and caressing each other while lathering one another with soap and water. I loved running my hands all over Purnima’s supple, curvy body. Hot damn. That morning, we made love in the shower. I had to dash out to grab condoms from my wallet but it was worth it. Kissing Purnima’s sweet lips. Licking the areolas of her soft breasts. Kneeling before her and fingering her hot pussy. Getting thrilled as she squealed in delight as I pleasured her with my fingers and tongue. Groaning in pleasure as she sucked my long, uncircumcised cock and licked my balls. Holding my Purnima against the wall as we made love. Thrusting deeply into her and hearing her sigh in pleasure. Licking her tits while slamming my cock inside of her. Shuddering as our bodies got rocked by an improbable double orgasm. Hmmm. Not bad for our first time together, eh?

Purnima and I spent the rest of the day together. Making love, watching television and cooking together. And that night, I fell asleep in her arms. I thought to myself this was definitely a wonderful experience. And she was not your average woman. I feel like I can be myself around her. And that’s how it all began. How I fell for the tender trap that is love one final time. And for once, the feeling was mutual. Absolutely mutual. Purnima and I began dating seriously, and by the end of the year we were living together in an off-campus apartment. A year later, I proposed to her on a sunny day in front of everybody near the Quad outside the campus library. And she said yes! We got married a few months later. And that’s how I met my wife and the mother of my (future) brats, folks. All I had to do was be open-minded and let love happen.