Japanese Tomboy for Blac Stud

A lot of people wander through life wondering about their purpose, where they're meant to be and what they're meant to do. For me, all of those questions were answered the day Ayako Tokushima came back into my life. It takes a special kind of person to show you their best when you're at your worst. Before I tell you about the woman who saved my life and brought me peace and joy, I'll tell you a bit about myself. Only then will you be able to appreciate all that she means to me. My name is Terrence James Rivieres, T.J. to my friends, and I was born in the town of Kingston, Ontario, to Haitian immigrant parents. A lot of people say that their lives are tough. I say you don't know what tough is until you've walked a mile in this brother's shoes.

At first glance, Kingston, Ontario, seems like an idyllic North American town. It's certainly beautiful to look at and with a population that's still under two hundred thousand, it's not too small or too big. When my parents, Paul and Viola Rivieres left their hometown of Cap-Haitien, Haiti, for Canada, I don't think they really knew what they were getting into. How could they? Instead of heading to more diverse and immigrant-friendly locales like Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver or Ottawa, they settled in Kingston, where I was born. Dad worked for UPS as a mail deliveryman and mom went back to school, eventually earning her MBA from Queen's University. She got a job at the local branch of the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce and eventually became the branch manager. That's my ma, always the career woman and go-getter. She's my inspiration, God bless her heart.

When my folks arrived in the City of Kingston, Ontario, in 1988, a year before I was born, there weren't a lot of people of non-Caucasian descent in town, to say the least. It's a little better now but I doubt the place will ever change. Growing up in Kingston, I was keenly aware of how different I was from everybody else. My parents tried their best to shield me from the harsh realities of life but there are certain rites of passage in every man's life, I think. You have to face hardship and you can either run from it or deal with it decisively. There is no other way. No black man in North America or anywhere can escape from racism, but it's up to him to decide whether he's going to let it stop him.

I think my experiences in Kingston shaped me into the man I am today. When I entered Saint Antonius Academy in September 2004, I was one of eighteen black students on campus, twelve of whom were female. The other four hundred students at the exclusive private Catholic school were white, with a few Chinese and Hindus here and there. I run into my fair share of bigoted students and teachers, and there were days when I cried myself to sleep. However, I was determined not to let them get to me. When I turned sixteen, I shot up to a height of six feet three inches and weighed two hundred and thirty six pounds. All of a sudden, the skinny white guys who used to whisper things behind my back were afraid of me and the white girls couldn't stop staring at me wherever I went. I wasn't picked on any more, that's for sure. They continued saying things behind my back, but for the most part, they gave me a wide berth.

I wish I could say that I had a great talent for athletics and that I joined the football team or played basketball and shot to popularity and acceptance. Sorry, that's just not true. I don't have the sport gene. I was just big and tall and black, that's it. I was quite gifted in other areas, though. I can draw a person's portrait from memory after seeing them for only a few minutes. I can also play the violin. I can't catch or throw a ball to save my life and I get winded if I run for more than ten minutes. Yeah, I wasn't meant for sports that's for sure. I am a nerd. Always have been and probably always will be. Black nerds do exist, don't believe the hype.

At school I had very few friends. One of them was Alexander Wong, a tall Asian dude with freckles. We were in the Computer Club together, and sometimes we hung out at each other's houses. Alex's family had been in Kingston far longer than mine and we basically never spoke to each other until the day I stopped a couple of white guys from kicking his ass in the school parking lot. They had him up against the wall and were punching his lights out when I jumped in. Why, you may ask? They were picking on him for being gay. One of those guys was Larry Hangman, a red-haired bozo whom Alex once called a friend. Larry and I had gotten into shouting matches which almost turned into fist fights a couple of times. I knew the ginger-headed little creep had a deep hatred of everyone who wasn't exactly like him. Why someone as smart as Alex Wong couldn't see that from the get go is a mystery to me.

One good thing about Alex Wong? He's a man of his word and has a long memory. Since that fateful day he's been my devoted best pal. A lot of the Asian students at Saint Antonius shunned the black students and only associated with the white students or with other Asians. That's the one thing I'll never get about some Asian students. To me, it's been obvious from day one that white people only like other white people. Even if you see them befriend or even date us so-called minorities. Behind our backs, they make fun of us. All of us who are different from them. I used to laugh inwardly at the Asian students I saw trying so hard to hang with the white students. Me? I hung out with other black students, especially a Haitian guy named Jean-Renaud Germain and his tall, big-bottomed sister Daphne. I loved myself and loved my people. Self-love is the first method of self-defence against a racist world. It's what black parents have been teaching their offspring since time immemorial.

Now, don't think for one second that I am close-minded. I'm not. I was good friends with Ayako Tokushima, this nearly six-foot-tall, raven-haired and porcelain-skinned Asian chick who lived on our street. Her parents, George Tokushima and Matthew Sykes, are an interracial gay couple. They adopted and raised her. In conservative and uptight Kingston, I think our two families were the most infamous in town. Ayako once confessed to me that someone scratched the word queer on her locker at school and when she told the principal about it, the dude just shrugged. Yeah, I wasn't the only one suffering daily torment at the hands of the local bigots. Ayako and I have been friends for years, but we were never more than that. There's a reason for that, our relationship was more brotherly and sisterly than guy and chick.

During my senior year at Saint Antonius Academy, I went out with Daphne, my friend Jean-Renaud's sister. The tall, sexy Haitian chick with the curves and the booty that just wouldn't quit proved to be just what I needed! We'd been going out for a while and I intended to take her to the Prom but fate and a little comeuppance changed my carefully laid plans. My buddy Alex, who worked at Angela's Diner in downtown Kingston, caught Daphne making out with Leonard Hangman, Larry's older brother. He even took a picture with his cell phone as proof since he knew I wouldn't believe him otherwise.

When I looked at the picture of my girlfriend making out with the older brother of a bigoted creep whom I hated, I was pissed. I got in my car and drove to the Hangman household, where I confronted Leonard. We fought, and naturally his brother Larry jumped in. I was holding my own against them when the police showed up. Luckily the officer who showed up on the scene was Constable Omar Abdirahman, a Somali-Canadian policeman with the Ontario Provincial Police. Instead of taking me to jail he took me home. He even convinced the Hangman family not to press charges against me, if you can believe that. I guess I got lucky. Well, my Pops still beat me within an inch of my life for my foolishness but yeah, all things considered, it could have been worse. After the mess that I made, I was inconsolable, alternating blaming myself and Daphne for what happened. The only person who understood my pain was Ayako. As always she offered me understanding and acceptance without judgement.

My friends and I graduated from Saint Antonius Academy in 2008, the same year that my idol, Barack Obama, a man born of an African immigrant father and white American mother, got elected President of the United States. Ayako went to study criminal justice at the University of Calgary in provincial Alberta. I left Kingston for the bright lights of Toronto, and enrolled at Ryerson University, to study computer science. I could have gone to a bigger and more established school like McGill, the University of Waterloo or Carleton University. However, Ryerson was the only school offering me a full academic scholarship. I couldn't pass up the chance to study computer science at Canada's premier technical school.

Contrarily to what you hear, there's still a lot of jobs in IT and the outsourcing craze has settled down somewhat. Alex Wong came to Ryerson University with me, to study civil engineering. Minority nerds got to stick together, you know? We can change the world! I've completely lost touch with my old buddy Jean-Renaud Germain. Things haven't been the same between us since I called his sister a cheating whore in the school parking lot the day after I got into the fight with the Hangman brothers over her stupid ass. I guess time doesn't heal all wounds.

I fell in love with the City of Toronto, man. It's not far from Kingston but it's like another world. Kingston is lily-white, small, uptight, bigoted and boring. Toronto is huge, multicultural, multiethnic and cosmopolitan in every way! I saw so many Africans, Arabs and Chinese people at Ryerson University, walking the halls and quads. I marveled at the sheer racial diversity of Canada's biggest metropolis and the vibrancy of its people. I saw black men and white women holding hands in the streets of Toronto with nary a stare. In Kingston, when Alex and I would chill at the Cataraqui Mall with Ayako, the three of us got stared at like you wouldn't believe! Living in Toronto began to change me. In high school I was the most studious person you could think of, but in Toronto I got distracted by the city's bright lights. I met a beautiful young woman named Deirdre Campbell and we began seeing each other. Tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, she was a dead ringer for my long-time crush Hope Solo, from the U.S. Women's national soccer team.

With Deirdre by my side, I explored all that Toronto had to offer. We hit the club scene together, and she showed me a world I never knew. I've been a hard-working, studious and church-going nerd my whole life. All of a sudden I was hanging out in bars and clubs, meeting really interesting people and all that jazz. Deirdre's family had money and she got me into places I never would have gotten into without her. I mean, we spent Spring Break vacation ( known as Reading Week in Canada ) in Jamaica, playing around in her uncle's beach house. I'm the son of a UPS mailman and banker, I wasn't used to such luxury and pleasure!

Yeah, I fell in love with Deirdre and her party-hard lifestyle. And my grades plummeted. I also became addicted to alcohol. I used to take a few shots just to liven up, at Deirdre's insistence, and before I knew it, I couldn't go a day without drinking. I stopped going to class and stopped talking to my parents. They simply didn't understand the new me. I thought they were cold and judgemental. I'm just having fun, at least that's what I told myself. When Ryerson University put me on academic probation, and I found myself in danger of losing my scholarship, it finally hit me that I might be on the wrong path. I turned to Deirdre, but she dumped me for another guy, a mixed dude named Joel from Barbados. I guess I was simply the flavor of the month for her...

Yeah, I wandered through the quads on campus and the streets of Toronto, wondering what I was doing when my life went to hell. I had lost my scholarship and gotten kicked out of Ryerson University. I was broke and basically homeless. Alex Wong let me crash in his apartment at night. His new boyfriend, a Jamaican guy named Watkins, didn't like having me around. I hated to use my friendship with Alex Wong in this manner but I was out of options. I couldn't go back to my parents in Kingston because I was too embarrassed by what I'd done to myself. I sullied my family name and disgraced myself. I received so many blessings in this life and threw them all away. I walked into the social services office downtown, and told my sob story to a social worker. Come back on Monday for an interview, she told me, sniffing in disgust, for I kind of stank.

I was on my way back to Alex Wong's apartment when someone hailed me on the street. I turned around, and lo and behold. Guess who it was? Ayako Tokushima. The tall and geeky Japanese-Canadian tomboy who'd been my best pal since childhood had matured into a fine young woman. Clad in a stylish silver business suit, she looked pretty hot. Hello Ayako, I said cheerfully. What happened to you T.J.? she said hesitantly. I looked at her, then at the people walking out of the office she just exited. What is this place? I wondered aloud. I work for the Ontario Ministry of Corrections as a counselor, Ayako said proudly. I looked at the men and women streaming out of the government office, and sighed. Some of them were staring at Ayako and I. I looked at myself, then at her. And in that moment it hit me. I finally saw what they saw. I really looked like a bum, and I stank because I'd forgotten to put on some deodorant before heading out that day.

What happened to you? Ayako asked. I sighed and shrugged. Where to begin? The young woman who'd been my best friend and neighbor my whole life looked at me with concern in her beautiful eyes. Let's take a walk, I said finally. Over the next hour, Ayako and I walked together and finally sat inside a Tim Horton's. I told her about my journey through the higher education system of Toronto, my involvement with Deirdre Campbell, and the fast-paced lifestyle which led to my downfall. When I finished my sad story, I looked at Ayako. I made a mess of things Miss A, I said quietly. You big goof you just need to come home, Ayako said with the same quiet confidence I'd become accustomed to while we were growing up. I sighed and nodded in surrender.

That same afternoon, Ayako drove me to Alex Wong's place, where I picked up my few belongings, then we embarked on the long drive from Toronto to Kingston. With two and a half hours to kill on the road, I decided to catch up on a few things. Clearly the past couple of years had been good to Ayako. I mean, she wasn't even done with university and she already had a job working for the Canadian government! I love Alberta but I missed Ontario too much, Ayako conceded with a grin.

Man, Calgary has done her some good. Ayako was looking like a million bucks! She told me about her life and times in western Canada, how she'd fallen in love both with the City of Calgary and its eponymous university, and finally, her ill-fated romance with a blond-haired and blue-eyed cowboy named Timothy Whitaker. Long story short? Ayako fell for Mr. Tall, not-so-dark and handsome and they had a whirlwind romance. When she got introduced to his family, they proved to be less than accepting of their union. Calgary is beautiful it's a shame there are so many damn rednecks in it, Ayako said with a bitter smile. I gently touched Ayako's hand. Dude was a fool for not choosing you over them, I said confidently. Ayako looked at me and shook her head. You always knew what to say Mr. Urkel, she said, referring my favorite old-school TV show. Damn skippy, I said cockily.

Truth be told, I was dreading returning to Kingston and facing my parents. When I left almost two years ago, vowing never to return, I thought I'd take Toronto and make it my own. I had it all planned out. I'd get my computer science degree from Ryerson University, go work for a big company either in another province or in the States and make a ton of money. I thought I'd put Kingston behind me, but clearly fate had other plans. For a long while, Ayako and I drove on in silence, lost in our thoughts. This was our first time coming home in ages. Finally, we arrived at our all-too-familiar street, and pulled up in the driveway of my parents duplex. Can you handle it from here? Ayako asked, gently laying her hand on my arm. I got this, I said with more confidence than I felt.

Before I went to hit the doorbell, I looked at Ayako, and marveled at this tall, beautiful young woman who'd done so much for me. Thank you Miss Nerdy, I said and gave her a hug. Ayako hugged me back fiercely, and for a long moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. The kiss took both of us by surprise. It was a brief kiss, nothing like what you see on TV or at the movies but a kiss nonetheless. You can do this big man, Ayako said, once we broke the kiss. Thank you for believing in me, I told her. We were still holding each other when my Mom came to the door. Her eyes lit up when she saw us. Thank God you're here, she said with a smile. Smiling, Ayako and I looked at each other and then followed my mother into the house.

My homecoming was an emotional affair, to say the least. My parents were glad to see that I was still alive, but they were also mad at me for the mess I'd made of my life and theirs. My dad let me have it, and I endured it partly because I needed to hear it and partly because he was absolutely right. I stunned them when I decided that I'd work my way back into the life I knew should be mine. Without their help. They were surprised, to say the least, and offered me a place to stay and sage advice but I told them I had to be my own man. My Pops respected that and wished me the best. I went and got myself a job as a security guard and after saving up for a bit, I got my own place. It wasn't easy getting back into the swing of things but my parents and Ayako were there for me every step of the way.

I returned to Toronto, this time as a business student at the University of Toronto. I figured I could find an IT company to work at some point once I'm done. Having an MBA would open a lot of doors for me. I still worked as a security guard part-time, and I was more focused on my studies than ever before. No more alcohol or parties for me. I gave all that stuff up. A man must work for that which matters to him in this life. The only pleasure I allowed myself? The lovely Ayako Tokushima, the woman who stood by me through thick and thin. We've begun seeing each other, and honestly, I wonder how come I never realized what an amazing woman she was. Our relationship is wonderful and passionate, and honestly, life has never been better.

I'm standing on my own two feet and it feels great. I can't thank heaven enough for my sweet Ayako. The night we made love for the first time is one that I'll never forget. We were just walking through a certain park in Kingston, it was close to midnight, and there we were, strolling hand in hand. I looked at Ayako and she looked at me, and in the pale moonlight she looked almost ethereally beautiful. Gently I pulled her close, and kissed her. Ayako kissed me back with a passion I found surprising, but most welcome. The usually reserved and ladylike gal I was so fond turned into a sex kitten, and I loved it. I want you to fuck me silly, Ayako whispered into my ear. Who am I to refuse the lady's request?

I lifted Ayako up and placed her on a nearby bench, and pulled down her sweatpants. I was expecting lacy panties or perhaps something silky but true to form, my favorite tomboy was wearing guy-style boxers. I had to laugh at that. Some things never change. Stop laughing like an idiot and take them off, Ayako said, looking and sounding impatient. Yes ma'am, I said, complying eagerly. Off came Ayako's boxers, exposing her hairy pussy. I smiled and eased a finger inside, then brought it to my lips. Yummy, I said, as I knelt on the soft grass and spread Ayako's legs wide. Inhaling the scent of her womanhood, I got busy licking her pussy. Haven't gone down on a woman since a certain psychotic blonde. I miss the taste of pussy on my tongue, though I usually prefer them shaved.