Black Women Are Goddesses Ch 22

We all long for someone or something we think we can't have. I think it's an integral part of the human condition. My name is Raquel Joseph. I'm a six-foot-tall, busty, big-bottomed and voluptuous young woman of Haitian descent living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. I'm a Christian and a lesbian. It took me a long time to reconcile my sexual identity with my faith. The Haitian community isn't known for its tolerance of what they call alternative lifestyles. We're a deeply conservative bunch. Doesn't matter where we live. My community is pretty narrow-minded about human sexuality. It hasn't exactly made my life easy. Being gay is part of who I am. It's not an alternative lifestyle. I wish more people understood that.

I lead a very busy life, folks. I'm a student-athlete at Harvey Jackson College, a small, historically black private school located in the city of Brockton. It's named after a famous civil rights activist from the old days. We have about six thousand students, and fifty six percent of the student body is of African-American descent. Caucasians comprise twenty percent and Hispanics along with Asians make up the remaining twenty four percent. It's one of the most diverse schools in New England. I enrolled at Harvey Jackson College right out of high school, and joined the women's swim team. Yes, black women can swim competitively. We've even won medals. Get used to it.

In fact, Harvey College is an HBCU where a lot of the minority athletes compete in sports most people don't think we like. The women's swim team is mostly black, as are the men's and women's soccer teams. There are two black guys and one Hispanic dude on the men's swim team. The school even fields a highly competitive coed ice hockey club which has a few black students in it. And yes, the Football team along with the men's and women's basketball teams are almost exclusively black, as can be expected. We compete in the NCAA Division Two. This year, I'm a sophomore and it's great. The great thing about being a sophomore is that I'm no longer a freshman. Thank God for that.

My brother Jerome is a freshman at Harvey Jackson College this year. He's a cornerback on the football team. My parents charged me with looking after him. I'm constantly worried about him. Jerome likes to party, and he likes to chase blonde bimbos. After what happened at Hofstra University, where that chick falsely accused those young men of sexually assaulting her, I wish college men were more careful in dealing with strange women. I also hope that woman gets prosecuted and punished for making a false accusation of sexual assault against some innocent men. I tell my brother to focus on studying and stay away from weird chicks. I sure hope he doesn't have to learn that the hard way. As much as I love my brother, I got to have my own life. If he needs me, he knows where to find me.

Recently, I've started attending Brockton's first and only Haitian-American Seventh-Day Adventist Church. It's located not far from the Bat Center. I go there every Saturday morning. I met a beautiful woman there. Her name is Rose. She's tall, busty and fine as hell. This brown-skinned, lovely dame is in her mid to late thirties. I could care less about her age. I thought she was seriously sexy. Every time I saw her in church, I always said hello. She's always friendly with me, and she seems really cool. I have not been blessed with this mythical ability a lot of gays and lesbians have to detect their own kind. I usually find out a chick is gay or bisexual when she starts kissing me. Seriously. I have zero gaydar. So I can't tell if Rose likes me or if she's only being friendly.

Well, let's see. I'm a Criminal Justice major at Harvey Jackson College and my professors always encouraged me to think forensically. Rose is a tall, good-looking Haitian woman who comes to church every Saturday by herself. She doesn't have a husband or any offspring. And I don't see her being too friendly with any of the men, beyond hello and goodbye. Rose is fine as hell. A woman who's that good-looking should have a boyfriend. Or a husband. Rose didn't have either. And she didn't seem to want either. Could it be that she's gay or bisexual? I think that's not beyond the realm of possibilities.

I see a lot of good-looking women in the church every Saturday. I'm as queer as a two-dollar bill and I don't fit the stereotype of a lesbian. I'm very pretty and feminine. I've got a cute face, nice tits, killer legs and a great ass. Men are always whistling and hollering when they see me. I don't mind the attention. Shoot, I spend a lot of time and energy exercising, eating right and dressing well. People had better notice that I look good. I'm pretty sure there are a lot of other lesbians in the church. Some of the women certainly come to mind. And not just the lovely, mysterious and ever elusive Rose. Damn, I've had a crush on this woman for ages and ages and I still don't know her frigging last name. Yeah, I'm new at this. One of the women I can think of is Marjorie. She's good-looking, sexy as hell and she's married to this accountant named George. Even though they have two sons and a daughter together, everybody can tell George is gay. Hell, I'm sure dead people know he's gay. George is captain obvious. Gayer than the character Bruno in that bad movie I recently saw.

Marjorie is always really friendly with this good-looking, educated and successful yet perpetually single lady named Cassandra. I've seen them hug, and caress each other. They're so friendly and tender with one another. Marjorie is definitely gay or at least bisexual. If she's doing Cassandra, I can't say that I blame her. Cassandra is a tax lawyer with a cute face, athletic body and killer booty. I'd go after her in a jiff if I thought I had a chance. I knew something had to be going on between these two. There are lots of lesbians and bisexual women in the Haitian-American Seventh-Day Adventist Church of Brockton. The question is whether Rose is a member of the Sisterhood of Pussy Lickers. Only one way to find out.

The next time I went to church, I approached her. I made sure I was wearing a conservative yet still sexy black dress that revealed all my curves. All the guys in the church, from the young men to the married guys and the grandfathers, were checking me out. A lot of the women were looking at me with envy, and disgust. Rose looked at me with something else showing in her eyes. Not envy. Not anger. Not disgust. Nah, think lust. Pure lust. One look into Rose lovely brown eyes and I knew. She was definitely a member of the sisterhood. I smiled at her, and gave her a kiss on the cheek as we sat in the same pew. She kept stealing glances at me throughout the service. I played it cool. Am I good or what?

After the service ended, I decided to walk home. The Bat Center was only minutes away and I thought I'd take the number three bus to drop me in the West Side. I never made it to the Bat Center. Guess why? The lovely Rose pulled up in a sleek gray BMW and asked me if I needed a ride. What do you think I said? I sat in the passenger seat next to Rose, grinning from ear to ear. The sexy Haitian mama looked at me, grinned and told me how good I looked. Playing it cool, I thanked her. She asked me where I lived. I told her I lived on Mash Street in the West Side, not far from the high school. I also let it slip that I was home alone that day. My brother was in Boston with his buddies and whatever blonde he was seeing this week and my parents were vacationing in Cap, Haiti. Rose grinned when I said that. She dropped me at my house, and I asked her if she could come in for a drink. My way of thanking her. She hesitated, but said yes. Once I had her in the house, you know the game was set.

I gave Rose a tour of my parents lovely home. I must say we have it good. A two-story, four-bedroom house with two bathrooms, two living rooms and a kitchen. We also have a big yard and a swimming pool. Rose was impressed. She asked what my parents did for a living. My dad's an engineer and my mom's a teacher. Rose and I sat in the living room, sipping some lemonade. We sat awfully close to each other. I learned a bit about her. She was single, never married, and moved to Brockton a few years ago. I asked her why a hot lady like her didn't have a man. Rose grinned, and said it's because she liked women. That made me smile. That's when I kissed her.

Rose kissed me back passionately, and took my face in her hands. Smiling, she asked me if I always brought strange women home. I grinned and said I only brought home the ones I liked. She smiled and we kissed again. Next thing I know, we were getting it on right there on my couch. I don't know when was the last time Rose got some but it must have been a while. The lady was real eager. I unbuttoned her shirt and took off her skirt. Surprise, she wasn't wearing any panties. My pussy got wet with anticipation. I knelt before her and began licking her pussy. Rose ran her hands through my hair and encouraged me to work my magic on her. I handled my business, licking and fingering her pussy like there was no tomorrow. I made her cum twice, then she went down on me. Rose was really good at eating pussy, folks. She fingered me hard, and gently bit my clit. I gasped in surprise. Rose laughed. That woman sure loves to tease. She put me on all fours and licked my pussy from behind, spanking me while licking me. It was weird, but I liked it. I also liked it when she slipped two fingers into my asshole while licking my pussy. We had a great time.

An hour later, Rose was pulling out of my driveway. I stood there, waving her goodbye. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, promising to keep in touch. That woman sure is a lot of fun. I'm definitely going to give her a call soon. We need to hook up more often. And next time, I'm bringing my strap-on dildo to the party. I just love mature Haitian women. They're so fun in the bedroom. I think rose and I are going to get along just fine. We're Haitian lesbians, and that's how we roll.