Lost Souls 6

Just because a White woman identifies as a conservative on the political spectrum doesn't mean that she doesn't enjoy the company of Black men, I thought to myself as I gave my date the once-over. My, this one is definitely a cutie. Adam Trebucher is the tall, athletic young Black man of Haitian descent my good friends Kristin and Jacqueline set me up with. We sat inside a nice little Italian bistro in the east end of Ottawa, enjoying a nice meal. Adam told me he's a second-year student at Carleton University, majoring in Criminology. Good looks and brains, eh? I like that in a man.

The name is Evelyn Saint-Jean. I was born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, and raised in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. My family is French Canadian. Well, they were anyway. My parents, Louis and Beatrice Saint-Jean of Montreal, Quebec, died in a car accident while I was just starting high school. I was taken in by my aunt Gabrielle Darcy and she moved to metropolitan Ottawa with me shortly after my folks burial. Aunt Gabby isn't the nicest person in the world, especially when she got some liquor in her. That's when this outwardly charming and friendly woman would get violent. And she often took it out on me. Until one day, I couldn't stand it any longer. She fell down the stairs and died. The police ruled it an accident. If they only knew.

Anyone looking at me would see a five-foot-nine, slim and fit young Caucasian woman with long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. People assume I'm just another pretty, easygoing gal until they look into my eyes. The eyes of a battle-hardened woman who's seen too much and been through hell. After my aunt's death, I was all alone in the world. In spite of the mess my life has always been, I've always been able to focus on what mattered. Like school. Yeah, while living with my abusive aunt, school became my only refuge. I excelled academically, that's why I won an academic scholarship to the University of Ottawa. I went there to get my bachelor's degree in business administration, then switched to economics. I saw it as more promising, you know?

I recently graduated from the University of Ottawa with my Master's degree in Economics. December 2012, that's when I graduated. I thought I would find a job easily but someone forgot to tell me about the job market in provincial Ontario in 2013. I'm twenty eight years old, and I'm broke, crumbling under student debt. I owe OSAP, the government-run student loan agency, a lot of money. If I don't get a job real soon, I'm toast. In a time like this, I feel super stressed and life has been hell lately. Don't ask me when was the last time I did anything fun. Or thought about things like romance, sex and dating. I was too busy trying to survive.

Going on a blind date set up by my friends, well, this felt kind of nice. A throwback to the days of carefree normalcy, you know? I smiled at Adam, and we talked a bit. He was telling me about his plans after graduation. He wants to go to Law school and become a hotshot attorney. Hmmm. Of course he does. He looks like he could pull it off, too. He's got that relentless drive I've only seen in the eyes of people who've been through hell and back, and somehow kept on going. There's a story there somewhere, I think. Maybe Adam will tell it to me if and when I see him again. He's a little younger than me at twenty five, but it's a negligible difference in my opinion.

Adam and I finished our meal, then we walked out of the restaurant. Classy guy, he opened the door for me, and paid for our tickets to the movies. We saw that zombie romantic comedy, the one where the zombie dude becomes human after falling in love with a chick whose father leads the human resistance against the zombie horde. Charming little movie, to be sure. I had fun. When our date concluded, Adam walked me to the bus stop. I took the ninety five bus heading from Gloucester to Baseline Station. I live in the west end, not far from the Nepean public library. It's a long trip from there to Ottawa University but I used to manage it just fine as an undergrad then as a grad student. And I can do it just as well as a broke-ass recent university graduate, pardon my French.

I returned to my one-bedroom apartment on Canter Boulevard. The owner of the place is a Vietnamese guy and he rents it out to students. I'm one of three females living on the property. There's like fifteen guys there. You'd think I'd mind but I don't. I've always gotten along better with men than with women. Men are less dramatic, you know? One of the male tenants, Victor Abdullah, is a cute Lebanese Christian guy. He goes to Algonquin College and majors in police foundations. He's really nice but he's got this bitchy girlfriend named Ashley. She's half white and half Jamaican or something along those lines. Cute chick, but she's mean as hell. She's always yelling at Victor when she comes over. I've seen them argue and she really tears into him. I advised him to dump her ass but he's too much of a pansy to do it. Man, life is funny. Bad girls get good guys and treat them like shit. Girls like me hope to meet good guys but they're fucked up by chicks like Ashley by the time we meet them. The universe's way of fucking all of us over, you know?

Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I would have been if my parents had lived. I wouldn't be so fucked up, that's for sure. I finally make it home, and drop on my bed. Off comes my dress, and my boxers. Yes, I'm the kind of woman who wears boxers. if you don't like it, you can kiss my ass. I open my laptop and check my messages on my Yahoo account. I tried to get a job as a librarian's assistant at Ottawa University but they turned me down, though they "appreciate" my interest. I also didn't get the job with Bell Canada. The only positive reply I got from all the prospective employers I contacted was from Securitas Canada. They offer free training, and the salary starts at eleven dollars and fifty cents per hour. Hmmm. Not bad. Once, I would have scoffed at such an idea. Working as a rent-a-cop is beneath me since I've got a Master's degree in economics from one of Canada's best universities. Right? Nope. I guess life had other plans.

I sent back a reply, telling them I'd show up for training whenever they wanted me to. To my immense surprise, I got a reply five minutes later, asking me to confirm I'd be there Monday. I smiled. Looks like I got myself a job, I thought. And not a moment too soon. I've recently paid this month's rent and I'm down to five hundred and seventeen dollars in my Scotia Bank account. After that, I'm broke. Rent is three hundred a month, and groceries can cost a lot, even though I shop in Chinatown where everything's cheap. I lay in bed, trying not to think about my problems and how they plagued my dismal little life.

Instead, I thought of Adam Trebucher, the handsome Haitian gentleman I met a few hours ago. He sent me a text as I rode the bus home, saying he had a nice time. I smiled as I texted him back, thanking him for a wonderful time and asking when I could see him again. He wants to take me to a paintball tournament his friends are having in Kanata next week. Sounds good to me. As I lay on my bed, trying to fall asleep, I thought about Adam. He's so beautiful, with a great body. I wonder what he's like in the bedroom. Man, I cannot even remember the last time I had sex. I've been with girls and guys, just casual fun. Last guy I dated was Stephen Brownstone, an African-American guy I met in the City of Toronto last summer. He was visiting from his hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. We had a lot of fun together, Stephen and I. Good times indeed.

Hmmm. I lay there, reminiscing, and found myself thinking of both Stephen and Adam. Both of them tall, fit young Black men. I would love to be the meat in such a sandwich I tell you. I'd love to kiss them and make out with them, and then feel their throbbing Black dicks in my hands. I would suck Stephen while Adam fucked me from behind, pulling my hair and spanking my ass. I've been told by plenty of Black men that I've got a really nice butt for a white chick. Hmmm. I've done all kinds of things sexually but the one fantasy I've had for the longest time is to do a threesome with two sexy Black guys and to experience double penetration. My hands found their way between my legs and I fingered my pussy as I set loose my imagination and indulged my fantasy.

I reached for my toothbrush and pressed the handle against my asshole while thrusting two fingers into my wet pussy. Furiously I fucked myself while imagining Stephen and Adam thrusting their dicks inside of me, one in my pussy and one in my asshole. I shrieked in pleasure, and lay there, panting and sweaty. Sometimes I can really work myself up, even while playing solo. I removed the toothbrush from my ass, and tossed it into the recycle bin, as I called my small trash barrel. It was, um, dirty. I licked my fingers, tasting my pussy on them. Hmmm. Yummy. I smiled to myself, and looked at my watch. Eleven o'clock on a Friday night. I just got home from a date and I just masturbated myself to a not so guilty pleasure. Yay for me. I looked at my phone, and glanced at Adam's message. I am looking forward to our next date for sure!