Secret Lives of Indian Women

Westerners refuse to learn to properly pronounce Sikh Indian names, that's how a proper Sikh lady like myself got saddled with the nickname Aggie, even though my full name is Agochar Chatwal-Vincent. My first name means "Unfathomable" in the Hindi language. Big name for such a small lady, eh? I'm five-foot-five, with light bronze skin, long black hair and light brown eyes. I was born in the City of Nashik, India, and raised in the City of Toronto, Ontario. I moved to Ottawa because I won a partial scholarship at Carleton University. That's how I ended up in the town that fun forgot. Welcome to my life.

As has often been said, fate does work in mysterious ways. I wasn't in love with the City of Ottawa when I first got there, that's for damn sure. When I left the City of Toronto to study in the City of Ottawa in August 2003, I was eighteen years old, just a young woman with a dream. In September 2003, I began my criminal justice studies at Carleton University. At first, I was quite intimidated since I didn't know anyone in the City of Ottawa. I just knew I wanted to get out of Toronto and explore someplace new.

My parents, Gagandeep and Mariam Chatwal have lived in the City of Toronto for decades, having moved there from the Republic of India since they were young. I was born a year before they left India. My brothers Kumar and Kaur were born and raised in the City of Toronto. I am the eldest ( and only ) daughter of the family, and the first offspring of my parents, I guess that's why I am so headstrong. I am bossy and I am used to getting my way. Don't mess with me or you will regret it.

Indian families tend to pressure their sons and daughters to study medicine or engineering, so I was kind of an odd duck among the Indian students at Carleton University because I wanted to become a lawyer. I met a tall, handsome young guy named Amrinder James Singh, A.J. to his friends, while at Carleton University and we began dating. Amrinder was born in the City of London, Ontario, to an Indian immigrant father and a white Canadian mother. I found this mix intriguing since Indian guys are loathe to date/marry interracially. Amrinder was so handsome, and I considered myself lucky to have him.

Amrinder James Singh and I had a whirlwind romance, and I slowly but surely fell in love with the charismatic stud who, to me, seemed to embody the best of both worlds. Amrinder was a rebel, like me. The handsome brown stud from London was studying architecture instead of engineering or medicine like the majority of other Indian students on the Carleton University. When I met Amrinder's parents, Kuldeep Singh and Jennifer Morrissey-Singh, I found them a charming, if somewhat odd couple. A tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed Caucasian woman married to a short, round Indian man. Wow. Oh, well. They produced my handsome boyfriend Amrinder, and I couldn't thank the fates enough for that.

When December 2003 came, I introduced my parents to Amrinder, the young man I couldn't shut up about. They liked him immensely. You see, my parents were thrilled to see me with a guy who was at least half Indian. There was a big ruckus in our family when my elder brother Kumar brought home Janice Johnson, the Jamaican gal he met at Humber College in Toronto. I met Janice and she's very nice, but my parents were adamantly against her and Kumar dating. That's why Kumar moved in with Janice, and our parents turned their backs on him.

Folks, if you didn't know, I guess I've got to enlighten you. There is a big bias against all things black in the Indian subculture. This racism is nothing new in Indian society. Hell, even today, in modern India, most "regular" Indians look down on the dark-skinned people of the Tamil Nadu region of India. Personally, I blame the British influence for this mess. They treated the dark-skinned Indians poorly and "elevated" the lighter-skinned ones, thus creating lasting enmity between the two groups.

For my brother Kumar, a proper young Indian-Canadian gentleman, to date a black woman from the Caribbean was a big deal for my parents. They'd rather turn their backs on Kumar instead of accepting the fact that he'd fallen in love with a smart, lovely young woman from the island of Jamaica. I've met Janice's parents, Roy and Adele Johnson, and they're really nice people. Janice's father is a police officer in Mississauga, and his wife Adele is an auditor with the Canada Revenue Agency. They live in a nice townhouse in Mississauga and own three cars. Hell, the Johnson family is doing better than our family, but you couldn't tell that to my racist parents.

I showed much love and support to my brother Kumar and his girlfriend Janice, and when they had a fight, I even talked Janice into giving my hard-headed younger brother a chance. When they got married, six months after they met, Janice asked me to be her bridesmaid. How cool is that? First time my tomboyish self wore a dress since Prom Night, seriously. As you can see, I am a pretty open-minded person. I just wish I had more luck in my personal life. One day I came home to find my beloved Amrinder in the arms of his buddy Teejay, and the two of them were having gay sex. I dumped Amrinder shortly after. I am not homophobic but I can't stand a cheater. That's just the way I get down.

Few women have experienced the hurt and pain that a lady can feel when she discovers her man in the arms of another man. After that experience, I became jaded and depressed. My grades began to slip, and I ended up on academic probation. That's when the school assigned me to a personal tutor named Toussaint Vincent, a tall, handsome young black man of Haitian descent. I did my research on my new tutor, and what I discovered amazed me.

Toussaint was born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, to Jacqueline and Jean-Louis Vincent, an immigrant couple from the island of Haiti. Dude graduated from Carleton University with a bachelor's degree in Criminology in 2002 and was studying Law at the University of Ottawa's Faculty of Law at the time we met. The brother was so smart that the school hired him as a tutor. Toussaint proceeded to whip my ass into shape, in more ways than one. Well, Toussaint turned out to be just what I needed, in more ways than one.

At first, Toussaint and I butted heads. I have always been an A-student, and didn't feel that I needed help. Well, my grades disagreed, as did the school. The tall, well-dressed brother from the Caribbean was determined to save my ass academically and wouldn't take no for an answer. Toussaint was more like a drill sergeant than an academic helper, to tell you the truth. Well, to be honest, I wasn't the easiest person to deal with in those days. I was bitter towards men after Amrinder's betrayal, and I was also grumpy in general. Toussaint was patient, and kind, and gave me a kick in the butt, figuratively speaking, when I needed it.

Slowly but surely, Toussaint and I became friends. Growing up in the City of Toronto, I was used to dealing with people from different cultures. Sikhs, Pakistanis, Lebanese, Chinese, Jamaicans, Somalis, Berbers, Mexicans, Brazilians, Nigerians, Ethiopians, Vietnamese, Toronto has minorities of all hues. I was not at all familiar with Haitians, all I knew about them is that they're from the Caribbean. Well, learning is always a good thing, isn't it?

Toussaint Vincent and I came from different worlds, but we had a lot in common. For starters, we're both the eldest in our families. Toussaint has two younger sisters, Nicole and Anne, and he's fiercely protective of them. I'm the opposite. I have two younger brothers whom I am very protective of. Toussaint and I laughed as we discussed our families.

That's how it all began, folks. Toussaint and I became friends, and soon began hanging out on and off-campus. Thanks to him, I managed to pass my classes and narrowly avoided academic suspension. To celebrate, Toussaint treated me to dinner and a movie. We went to watch Spiderman 2, and then grabbed a bite at the Saint Laurent Mall's food court. Afterwards, Toussaint and I went for a walk around Vanier. I didn't know Toussaint lived in the area, but since most folks in Vanier are French speakers, I shouldn't be surprised that a Haitian guy from Montreal would move there.

The more I learned about Toussaint, the more I liked him. Hell, I was surprised that the tall, cute Haitian dude didn't have a girlfriend and told him as much. Toussaint blushed when I told him this, and he told me that he liked someone but wasn't sure about telling her how he felt. As I pondered that, feeling vaguely jealous that Toussaint had some lady in his sights, the Haitian stud laughed and shook his head. Toussaint looked into my eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. Toussaint was talking about me! When he leaned close to me, his handsome face inches from mine, I did something very bold. I stood on my tippy toes, threw my arms around Toussaint and kissed him.

Toussaint and I shared our first kiss right there at the bus station near the Saint Laurent Mall. When our lips parted, we stood there, smiling and laughing nervously like a pair of idiots. People stared, since they weren't used to seeing tiny, bossy Indian chicks locking lips with tall, hunky, well-dressed black men. Arm in arm, Toussaint and I headed for the bus back to the Carleton University campus. I didn't know it at the time, but this was the start of a wonderful relationship.

Toussaint and I would date, ignoring parental objections on both sides, throughout my university years and we'd get married in 2007, right after my graduation from Carleton. Our first son, Petion Kartar Vincent, was born in 2009, followed by a daughter, Jaya Vincent. Toussaint opened a law practice in Nepean, and I work part-time as a consultant for AITC, also known as the Asian Integrated Chamber of Commerce, bringing together businessmen and businesswomen from Vietnam, China, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Japan, and pretty much every Asian country with a visible economic and social presence in Canada. It's a good job, the pay is decent, and we have a nice office in a tall building in downtown Ottawa. I love my dear husband Toussaint, and our growing family.

Toussaint and I are proud parents, and busy professionals, but we're passionate as ever. The other day, I drove to his office in Nepean for some fun, on my lunch hour. All those boring business meetings and conferences with government officials cause me to get irritated and horny, and only my darling Toussaint can satisfy my womanly needs. As soon as I walked into his office, Toussaint knew what was up. I wasn't wearing any panties under my professional outfit which consisted of a stylish grey suit, white blouse and dark gray silk pants.

Smiling, Toussaint came to me, and kissed me full and deep. My tall, sexy husband picked me up in his arms and laid me on his oak desk, then yanked down my skirt. My hairy cunt stared at him, and Toussaint grinned wolfishly. I spread my thighs invitingly and Toussaint sniffed my cunt, then stuck his fingers inside of me. I squealed in delight, and Toussaint buried his face between my legs. Toussaint definitely knows his way around the female body. Sticking his tongue deep into my cunt, Toussaint began eating my pussy like a hungry man.

I lay there, moaning in pleasure and pinching my tits and Toussaint worked me over, and I cried out, thrilled by what he was doing to me. We changed positions and Toussaint put me on all fours, and I spread my ass cheeks for him. Toussaint is totally an ass man and I am fine with that. Toussaint fingered my asshole, and then licked my asshole. I've got a nice big butt and Toussaint loves eating my thick Indian bum. The feel of his tongue in my asshole tickled me in the most wonderful way. I loved it, but I really wanted to feel his dick inside of me.

First, though, I wanted to taste Toussaint. I sat Toussaint down and unzipped his pants. My Haitian stud smiled and waved his long and thick, uncircumcised dick at me. Grinning, I knelt before Toussaint, my self-styled ebony god, and proceeded to worship at his altar. The masculine funk emanating from Toussaint's dick and balls were wonderfully intoxicating. I took his dick into my mouth and began sucking it, gently at first then with gusto. In no time I had Toussaint harder than a rock, just like I knew he would be.

A very horny Toussaint pulled me up and kissed me, then placed me on his lap. Grinning, I threw my arms around Toussaint's neck and straddled him. I lowered myself onto his tool, and lowered myself on his dick. A happy sigh escaped my hips as I impaled my wet, eager cunt on Toussaint's hard dick. Toussaint's strong, manly hands went to my hips and he thrust into me. Our eyes locked, and we began making love, wordlessly and passionately. We'd been together so long that no words were needed.

Toussaint and I fucked and sucked over pretty much every inch of his not-very-large office. At some point, he had me bent over a book shelf, and I caused expensive law books to clatter to the floor as I grinded my ass against Toussaint's dick, driving him deeper inside of me. Much later, Toussaint and I lay side by side on the carpeted floor, sweaty, spent, but happy. I looked at my husband and smiled, and he kissed me on the forehead.

Laughing like a pair of clowns, Toussaint and I readjusted our clothes and shared a kiss before I rushed to the parking lot and sped away. My husband's law practice is located at Baseline Road, a good twenty minutes from downtown Ottawa, where I work. I sped down the highway, to no avail. I ended up being a good ten minutes for work, but since I didn't have any meetings or clients lined up for that afternoon, all's well that ends well. Tonight, before I head to work, I'm going to buy some sex toys for Toussaint and I to enjoy. Spice things up, you know? Keeps a marriage fresh. Goodnight.