Orean Girl Discovers Blac Men

My name is Amanda Pyeong. I'm five-foot-nine, slender and graceful. Born in the City of Chonju in Korea. On the first day of February 1989 I came into this world. Twenty years later I would move to the City of Ottawa, Canada's Capital, in search of better opportunities. I enrolled at Carleton University, and focused on studying business administration. There were lots of other Asian students there, as well as Arabs, Africans and Hispanics. Carleton University is a very diverse school. It's also the place where I met the love of my life.

At Carleton University, I experienced a world of opportunities. I also saw a very shocking amount of discrimination. The school treats Caucasian students like royalty and sees foreign students as weirdoes. They call us visible minorities and constantly remind us that we don't belong. All the non-White students at Carleton University have felt unwelcome at one time or another. Last year, a Black male student was elected President of the Student Association, only to have his leadership revoked. Canadian schools don't like to see non-White students in leadership positions. And even though many Asians think they're exception, I'm not foolish enough to buy into that.

Racial relations at Carleton University are strange. The school is racist but I see a lot of Black men walking around with White ladies. I also see many, many Asian women with White men. Sometimes I see White men with Black women. Interestingly, Black female friends of mine who have White boyfriends can't stand to see Black men with White women. I find that kind of funny. There are lots of interracial couples around, but the one pairing you never see is a Black/Asian couple. Asian women usually date Asian men or White men. That's how most of the other Asian gals at Carleton University and all over the City of Ottawa seem to feel. Well, without meaning to, I was destined to break the mold. You see, I fell in love with a young Black man from America who was studying at Carleton University.

The first time I laid eyes upon Jericho Henderson, I was smitten. The six-foot-three, lean and athletic young Black man simply took my breath away. He was an international student like me. I had never met a Black man from America before. Sure, I knew about many famous Black American men. Even in Chonju, Korea, we knew about the accomplishments of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Henry Louis Gates, Tiger Woods, U.S. President Barack Obama and Michael Jordan. However, I had never seen an authentic African-American in the flesh. Jericho was a transfer from Howard University in the American capital, Washington D.C. He was studying Criminology at Carleton University, as part of a study abroad program that many American and Canadian universities had. Jericho and I had a Business Ethics Class together. He amazed me with his intelligence, cocky manner and simple magnetism. I've met African students before. They're nothing like Jericho. This handsome Black man from America walked around Carleton University like he owned the place. And the White students were in awe of him. White Canadian students are in awe of anything American. And this handsome African-American stud who drove a bright red Mercedes and called himself "The New Big Man on Campus" simply amazed them. Especially the young White women.

Jericho Henderson seemed quite bored at Carleton University. And I'm not sure I blamed him. Seriously. The school was completely and utterly boring. I just wanted to get through the day without hearing a racist remark made by some White student about minorities. They think they're so fucking clever. I see White guys hanging around Black guys make racist comments about Arabs. I see those same White guys make anti-Black comments when hanging out with Persian students. I think they hate anyone who isn't White. One White guy named Mitchell keeps hitting on me every time he sees me. He's in my Psychology class. I keep telling him off but he won't take no for an answer. I guess since he sees almost every Asian chick in the City of Ottawa walking around with a White man, he thinks we're all genetically designed to fall for him and his ilk. Thanks but no thanks. No White guys for me. Especially fat, ugly racist White guys like Mitchell. He makes Asian jokes all the time, calling us 'chopsticks' and yet he expects Asian girls to bow down to him just because he's White. What a jerk!

I made very few friends at Carleton University. The Asian students hung out in cliques. The Japanese students didn't like the Chinese students. The Korean students didn't like the Vietnamese students. We didn't go out with Asians from different countries or cultures. I guess this surprises you Westerners reading this. To you people, I know we all must look alike. Well, we're not. There are many cultural and linguistic differences between the Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, Vietnamese and we're damn proud of that. Yeah, I was bored and lonely at Carleton University. My parents were thousands of miles away. I basically had no friends. And I was besieged by legions of racist White guys with a fatal case of Yellow Fever. Other Asian chicks found my aversion to culturally insensitive White guys kind of strange. Whatever. I am proud of myself and my culture. I don't care who you are or how much power you have, I don't compromise for anyone.

I buried myself in my schoolwork, telling myself that I'd have time for dating and romance later. There were several cute Korean guys at Carleton University but most of them already had girlfriends. Atsuto, a handsome Japanese guy I liked told me that his conservative parents simply wouldn't allow him to date a Korean gal like me. When he told me that, I was crushed. I thought he was cute, friendly and modern in his thinking. I was deeply saddened by that. So much that tears unexpectedly came out while I was studying at the library. I couldn't help it. I was heartbroken. There's only so much a gal can take, you know? Men from my own race didn't find me attractive!

I guess I was sobbing pretty loudly because I attracted some unexpected attention. Standing before me was a tall, good-looking young Black man clad in a red silk shirt, Black silk pants and shiny Black shoes. None other than Jericho Henderson, the African-American stud who rocked the Carleton University campus. The one with legions of admirers among the White ladies on campus. Mr. Popular. With concern in his face, he asked me if I was okay. I stared at him, stunned. He was even better-looking up close. I smiled weakly and told Jericho I was okay. He told me he remembered me as an exceptionally bright student from class. He also told me that whoever or whatever caused me pain simply wasn't worth it. I smiled when he said that. I looked at him. It was Friday night. Surely a hot guy like Jericho had plans? Nerds like myself stay in. I don't know anybody in town and Ottawa can be a pretty hostile place for a visibly foreign woman with a shaky command of English and French.

Jericho smiled sadly, and told me he was staying in that Friday night. I pressed him for information. I wanted to know why he wasn't going out. Every time I saw him there was a gushing young Black woman ( or a young White woman) on his arm. He was a truly gifted student and the star of the Carleton University Men's Rugby Squad. Guys with good looks, brains and athletic talent usually didn't lack female company on Friday nights. Nerdy girls like me did. Jericho told me that he'd gotten dumped by Raquel Stephans, his main squeeze. My eyes narrowed. Oh, yeah. I knew Raquel Stephans. The tall, curvy, light-skinned young Black woman from my Management Class. Originally from Toronto, Raquel came to Carleton from a University near Kitchener in Ontario and had an internship with the Foreign Relations Department near downtown Ottawa. I had seen her with Jericho. They were the golden couple on campus. Good-looking, educated, wealthy and Black! Definitely a shocker for the lily-White students of Carleton University. Canadians aren't used to seeing successful people of color. Especially in Ottawa.

Jericho Henderson asked me if he could sit down and I acquiesced. With a sad look on his breathtakingly handsome face, he told me his story. Raquel Stephans wasn't as perfect as she seemed to everyone at Carleton University. She was part of the Christian Student Association and seemed like a conservative-minded, God-fearing person. According to Jericho, she smoked and slept around a lot. With moist eyes Jericho Henderson told me that Raquel dumped him for Hans Gerlach, a Dutch guy who transferred to Canada's Carleton University from Amsterdam's world-famous Gerrit Rietveld Academie. Yeah, Jericho was heartbroken over losing Raquel. And she was parading around campus with Hans Gerlach, calling him her very own Kevin Costner. Jericho felt embarrassed and humiliated. When he finished his story, I smiled at him and squeezed his hand without saying anything. Raquel must be a really foolish woman to ditch a wealthy African-American stud like Jericho for a skinny Dutchman but hey, I guess we all have our preferences. Jericho seemed really tense after telling me that. In fact, he looked like he wanted to go. I wouldn't let him off that easily. I asked him to have coffee with me. He was okay with that. And that's how it all began.

Jericho and I became friends. Yep, we became the most awkward pair on campus. Everybody stared at us. The tall Black American athlete and the nerdy Korean chick walking together through a Canadian university campus. Now you've seen everything. Jericho and I could care less. We became the best of friends. I learned a lot about him. Slowly but surely, he revealed his true self to me. He was no longer the cocky, athletic African-American super stud who drove all the campus ladies wild. He was just a guy going through some emotional pain and I wanted to help him heal. As different as we were, we could relate to each other. I was rejected by Asian men in favour of supposedly more attractive and outgoing Asian women and White women. Jericho had gone through something similar with the Black women at the Carleton University campus. He told me that Black Canadian women simply didn't have any faith in or respect for Black men anymore. They saw White men as knights in shining armour and viewed Black men with total disdain. Amazingly, I could relate to that. Many Asian women view White men as demigods and saw Asian men as chumps. Personally, I don't think there's anything special about White men. They respect no culture other than their own. They view women of colour as their sexual playthings and saw planet Earth as their playground. Worship them? This proud Korean gal would rather perish! I mentioned this to Jericho. He smiled and told me I was his kind of gal. When he said that, my heart skipped a beat. Did he mean it?

Jericho and I continued going to class and hanging out together. He introduced me to his friends, a group of American students who were fast becoming disenchanted with Carleton University. Tyrone Rydell, a half-Jamaican, half-Irish guy from Boston, Massachusetts, who came to Carleton University because he wanted to try studying internationally. Emily Rodriguez, a fiery young Latin woman from Alamogordo, New Mexico, who was dying to head home after half a semester in Ottawa. Kevin Reese, a stern but charming redneck from Dallas, Texas who found Ottawa dull and cold. I was so happy and so sad to meet them. I always thought American students would have an easier time at a Canadian school than us non-Westerners. Apparently I was wrong. The Canadian professors at Carleton University treated every foreign student like shit, including American students. Damn. Are Canadians nice or what?

Yeah, I wasn't the only one not having a good time in Ottawa. In many ways, I bonded with my new American friends because of that. I became close friends with Emily Rodriguez, the gorgeous Latina. She was so warm and friendly, so unlike the fake-smiling Canadian women I was constantly surrounded by. Emily and I hung out together after classes. I confided in her about my crush on Jericho. Emily smiled when I told her. She told me that although Jericho was a genius when it came to both academic matters and sports tactics, he wasn't that sharp when it came to women. That's why his ex, Raquel, stomped all over his heart and made him the laughingstock of the campus for a while. Well, I wasn't sure how to reveal my feelings to Jericho but I took Emily's advice. One night, I invited Jericho to my place for beers and pizza, and revealed myself.

I bought a bright red dress for the occasion. One that showed off all of my curves. Yes, I do have curves. And a nice butt too. Jericho came to my dormitory on Colonel By Drive straight from Rugby practice. When he saw me, I think his jaw dropped. I smiled and welcomed him inside. He stared at me with those big eyes of his and asked me if I was going somewhere. I grinned, and told him I had something to share with him. He looked at me askance, still clueless. He's so cute when he's nervous. I stood on my tip toes and planted a kiss on his lips. He seemed surprised, but didn't pull away as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him deeply. When our lips parted, he smiled. I winked at him. Yeah, I think he got the message. For the rest of the evening, we curled up on my couch and watched an old episode of Grey's Anatomy. It was that special episode where Dr. Cristina Yang had a passionate lovemaking with Preston Burke, the handsome Black doctor. I simply love Asian female/Black male love scenes. I hardly see any, not in the movies and not even in online porn in those few times I've watched it. I mentioned this to Jericho. He smiled and told me we should have a love scene of our very own. As you can imagine, I was more than okay with that!

The Grey's Anatomy episode ended, and neither of us noticed. Jericho and I were too busy making out on my couch. We kissed tenderly and caressed each other. Jericho took my hands in his and kissed them. Then he told me that he'd had feelings for me for a long time, and just wasn't sure how to tell me without risking our friendship. I playfully smacked his forehead and told me that I'd had a crush on him for ages. Ever since I first saw him in class. Laughing, Jericho told me that he'd never seen an Asian lady with a Black man. He thought we weren't into guys like him. He muttered something about us only liking Asian guys and White guys. I shushed him with another kiss, and he stopped mumbling nonsense. If only he knew how many nights I lay on my bed, fantasizing him about men like him. I mean, I've got all those posters of Black male stars in my dorm. Denzel Washington. Tyrese Gibson. Tyson Beckford. Terell Owens. Yeah, I like Black men. The darker the better. All this I pointed out to a somewhat stunned Jericho.

Grinning, Jericho pulled me into his arms. We began undressing each other. He wanted to be all sexy with the strip tease thing but I was horny. I've been in Ottawa since 2009. It's been about two years since I last got some action. I practically ripped Jericho's clothes off. My Black hunk was stunned. In moments I had stripped to his boxers. Then they came off too. I licked my lips as I admired my chocolate stud muffin. Jericho was so tall and sexy, with rippling muscles. He looked good enough to eat. I looked at his dick. My stud was well-endowed. I held his member in my hand. It was long and thick, and also uncircumcised. Not a problem. I kissed Jericho, and ran my hands all over his groin. Then I took him into my mouth.

Leaning against the wall, Jericho sighed as I went to work on him. I flicked my tongue over his dick head and teased his balls with my fingers. He moaned as I playfully smacked his balls. Gently he caressed my head as I sucked him off. I've been with very few men but I know my way around the male body. And I definitely wanted to make up for lost time. I frigging rocked Jericho's world. He was practically squealing when I made him cum. He was ready to stick me but I told him he had to prepare the terrain first. Translation? Lick my pussy. If you can't do this right, I'm not letting you inside of me. Jericho smiled and picked me up. Then he took me to the bedroom. He laid me on the bed and I spread my thighs invitingly. My sexy Black stud knelt before me and inhaled my scent. Gently he spread my pussy lips before his tongue darted inside of me. Followed by his fingers. And just like that, he began sending waves of pleasure deep inside of me. Jericho licked my pussy like his life depended on it. I think he made me cum twice, or was it three times? I don't know. I was too busy howling his name.

Yeah, Jericho was pretty damn good in bed as I was finding out. I wanted him inside of me. He hesitated, then told me he didn't have a condom on him. He hadn't come prepared for a seduction. Well, I had condoms in my drawer. I took them out. I fitted a Magnum on Jericho's dick. It fit him nicely. Grinning, I pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him. I rested my hands on his broad shoulders and he licked at my breasts as I lowered myself on top of him. Until our bodies were one. Joined together. Jericho's cock filled my pussy. I began riding him. Slowly. I took the lead, taking in as much of him as I wanted. Not an inch more, or an inch less. Jericho pinched the areolas of my breasts as I rode him, eliciting a sharp cry from me. I batted his hands away and rested them on my hips as I rode him hard. He thrust his cock deep into me, slamming it home. Pleasurable groans filled the room, emanating from both of us as we fucked and sucked the night away.

I am not entirely sure for how long Jericho and I went at it but we must have made love until dawn or beyond. I woke up pleasurably sore all over. The first thing I saw was none other than Jericho. He was already awake. There was a contented smile on that handsome mug of his. I ran my hand through his hair. Damn he looked good. He took my hand in his and kissed it, then he told me breakfast was served. I looked at him with a mock frown. Had this stud been to my kitchen without asking? He picked me up, kissed me and next thing I know, we were at it again. Coupling. It is what couples do, you know. Afterwards we would talk and work out the details of our fledgling relationship.

That was back in 2009, folks. It has been two years and Jericho and I are still going strong. We recently got engaged. I love my handsome African-American stud. He calls me his Emerald Queen. Wow. He is so nice, attentive and affectionate. He is always there for me. And he supports me in everything that I do. Oh my God, Black men are Mister Wonderful! In 2011, Jericho is taking me to Washington D.C. He wants me to meet his parents. Mine have severed all ties with me once they found out I have been dating a Black man. I do not care. I love Jericho. In a few months I will have my bachelors degree in business administration from Carleton University. Jericho will get his degree in Criminology. We are planning on moving to America afterwards. Advancement opportunities for University-educated people of color in Canada simply suck. Systemic discrimination by Canadians of European descent halts our progress. Jericho tells me that I am going to love Washington D.C. A City where a Black man is Mayor. A town which counts the first African-American President of the U.S. as one of its residents. Yeah, I think I am going to love D.C. Mainly because we will be together. In the meantime, we are still in Ottawa. We get plenty of stares from White guys and Black women, both of whom seem stunned to see a Black man and an Asian woman together. Whatever. Their problem, not mine. I have my Black Prince. I am his Emerald Queen. The only man I have ever loved will be mine. Forever.