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Man, the moment I saw him I knew he’d been an easy mark. Who am I talking about? Anderson Chang. A tall and very slim young Asian man who walked into my Criminology class at Carleton University the first week of September 2010. He was okay-looking, in a nerdy kind of way. What surprised me is how I felt about him. I am not usually into Asian guys. In fact, I’m not usually into people who aren’t Black, or at least part Black. My name is Steve Sinclair. A big and tall, openly bisexual Black man of Haitian descent living in the town of Nepean, Province of Ontario. And this is the story of how I unexpectedly found love. Literally in the last place I ever thought I should look.
I have been in a funk lately. A while ago I decided I wanted to lead a normal life. Even though I still considered myself bisexual, I exclusively dated women. Make that Black women. Although I met some wonderful Black women, I found myself frustrated for the most part. As a six-foot-two, University-educated and gainfully employed Black male living in a town full of Black women, I found myself quite lonely. Simply put, Black women in Canada don’t seem to go for handsome, educated Black men. They seem to prefer Black thugs and Black hustlers. When these types of guys mistreat them, they blame all Black men for their mistakes and then go for White guys. They never go for the good Black man. I’m that kind of guy. I work for the Canadian Government for crying out loud! I drive a nice car. I’m polite and friendly to the pretty Black ladies. And I don’t mind spending money on them. You’d think they would appreciate that. Sadly, they don’t. And I am left frustrated and lonely. Yep.
Sometimes, it made me wonder what was wrong with me. Like I said before, even though I am bisexual, I mostly prefer women. I’m fond of saying that the Black Goddess is my Standard of Beauty. A tall, curvy Black woman with big tits, wide hips and a big round butt. That’s my idea of an African Goddess. I almost literally worship the ground that Black women walk on. And I cherish the ones in my life. My best friend Wendy is a Black woman. I love her but she’s married to a guy who doesn’t appreciate her. My mother Elsie is a wise and wonderful lady who teaches French at a catholic school. My sister Ella is a dedicated student at Algonquin College. Yes, I believe in positive relationships with the Black women in my life. Sadly, being a good Black man is a sure fire way of rendering yourself invisible to Black women. They seem genetically internet casino predisposed to only feel attracted to the worst that the Black male community has to offer.
I haven’t been with a man in about five years. I have loved many women in my life. My last love, a pretty Black lady named Naomi Anders, ditched me for another guy. A thug if you can believe that. Yep. I opened myself to Naomi. I cherished her. I treated her right. I was even ready to put a ring on it. It took her a while to accept the fact that I was bi but eventually she became cool with it. Especially since I swore to her that my bisexual adventures were in the past. I’m practically straight, or so I told her. And that’s what I told myself. Yet months after Naomi dumped me, I met Anderson Chang and I haven’t been the same since.
Attraction is attraction. It’s kind of hard to explain. Why do I like tall, chubby and big-booty Black women with dark skin over the light-skinned, skinny Black women that most professional Black men seem to like? Why am I studying to get my Master’s degree in Criminology at Carleton University while working for the Ministry of Corrections as a Guard instead of working for a big law firm like most of my classmates? It’s because the life of a Guard attracts me. It’s dangerous, it doesn’t pay well but it’s what I want to do. I’m only getting my Master’s degree to have something to fall back on if I ever get injured at work or something. Yeah, I have always followed my ruling passions. My attraction to Anderson Chang surprised the hell out of me, folks. I’ve never gazed upon an Asian person, male or female, and felt sexual desire. I’ve got nothing against them. It’s just that I’m usually attracted to Black women and occasionally to my fellow Black men. White guys and White women don’t turn me on. Why does this Asian dude get me excited? Hell if I know.
For some reason, I decided to make friends with Anderson Chang. He’s from the University of San Francisco and he’s spending a summer abroad, so to speak. He chose to study in Canada instead of Eastern Europe, Southeast Asia or South Africa, which are attractive destinations for international students from North America. I found this quite peculiar. Why he chose Carleton University out of all the fine schools in the Capital of Canada I’ll never know. Most people seem to like the University of Ottawa better. Anderson Chang was pleasant company. A really funny, intelligent man. He’s been to many places including canlı poker oyna the United Kingdom, Mainland China, South Africa and Brazil. I found him quite charming and we began hanging out. I thought this friendly, seemingly straight guy with a great sense of humour might get my mind off Naomi, the gorgeous but deceitful young Black woman who shattered my heart into a million pieces.
To my immense surprise, I enjoyed showing the city of Ottawa to Anderson Chang. The way he looked at it was quite endearing. I’m originally from the city of Toronto and I only moved to the township of Ottawa because I was getting too distracted in T.O. I can’t stand the city of Ottawa. I find it dull and boring. Completely lifeless and quite lacking as a federal center and national capital. Anderson found it quite charming. I showed him popular attraction centers like the Saint Laurent Mall, the National Art Gallery ( where I once worked as a security guard many years ago) and the Museum of Nature. I showed him the new statue of that world-famous and talented Black Pianist in downtown Ottawa. I was finding myself quite smitten with Anderson, and kind of regretting the fact that he was straight.
Well, one day he surprised the hell out of me. We were having dinner inside the Food Court of Saint Laurent Mall and he noticed me observing people. I observe everybody. The stocky Black guy with the chubby, blonde-haired White woman pushing the stroller. The young Black woman walking by who shot them a dirty look. The cute Hispanic chick with roller blades. And that light-skinned young Black woman walking with the slim older White guy. The same one who shot me the look. What’s the look? Black women who date White men like to send challenging stares to Black men they encounter while out with their boyfriends. I personally couldn’t care less. I don’t know why Black folks feel the need to do this. If a Black guy wants to be with a White lady, that’s his business. If a Black woman wants to be with a White man, that’s her business. This bisexual Black gentleman of Haitian descent hanging out with a heterosexual Asian male friend could care less!
Anderson noticed the challenging look the young Black woman with the White boyfriend gave me, and he noticed the pain I tried to hide. That’s when he did something completely unexpected. He pulled my face close to his with his surprisingly strong hands…then he kissed me. Man, I don’t know who was more surprised. The Black lady with poker oyna the White boyfriend she was showing off…or me. I kissed Anderson back with a passion that surprised me. I heard the young Black woman’s frustrated sigh, and she stalked off with her token White boyfriend in tow. Anderson and I smiled and looked into each other’s eyes when we came up for air. Man, this was a good kiss. I hadn’t kissed a man in about five years. I had forgotten how wonderful it felt. Anderson grinned and told me he’d been wanting to kiss me for weeks. I smiled and told him the feeling was mutual. I also hinted that my apartment wasn’t far away…very close to a pharmacy where we could buy condoms. Anderson smiled, and we got up from our table. He linked his arm in mine, and we walked through Saint Laurent Mall together. Everybody was staring at us. White men with their Asian girlfriends. Black men with their White girlfriends. Cocky Black women with their White boyfriends. Single Black men hanging out with their homeys. Gushing White women. Everybody. I guess it’s just not something they saw everyday. A tall, good-looking and well-dressed professional Black man walking around with a tall and handsome, well-dressed Asian male…holding hands. I smiled at Anderson and he smiled at me. Just to really shine them on, we kissed again. And it was even better than the first time.
We hurried home and took care of each other’s needs. Anderson is really passionate, folks. He loves this Black man’s body and explored damn near every inch of me. And I explored every inch of him, and then some. He’s well-endowed and knows what to do with it, believe. So much for the truly false stereotype about Asian men lacking in certain areas. He laid it down and I rode him to kingdom come. Man, my Asian stud left me pleasurable sore after fucking me so damn good I swear I saw a tear. Yeah, I made a wonderful new friend. We’re quite comfortable in and out of bed, folks. We’re two intelligent, educated and hard-working professionals. And we love each other. When December comes, I’m going to the United States with Anderson. He wants to show me San Francisco. He insists it’s even gayer than Ottawa’s South End, which would make Liberace’s palace look butch. Now this I have to see. Folks, I’m happy. I never thought I would fall in love with a person from outside my race and be happy. I wanted a normal life. A beautiful Black woman, a career, a house in the suburbs and two brats. That’s what I thought would make me happy. Sadly, Black women didn’t go for me when I was one hundred percent dedicated to them so hey, whatever, right? That’s life, I guess. I’m an openly bisexual Black man of Haitian descent in a loving relationship with an Asian stud. And we’re happy together!
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