Black Power Is Forever

Friday nights were made for going out. However, sometimes it's good to stay in. My name is Wonda Saint-Thomas. A very tall, beautiful and voluptuous Haitian-American sister with a story to share. I graduated from Brockton Community High School a while ago and enrolled at Langston Hughes College, a historically Black institution located in downtown Boston, Massachusetts. Life on campus can be pretty dull. That's why I make my own fun. Hey, even sisters get the blues, alright?

Langston Hughes College, the setting of my adventures is a small private school that seems quiet until you set foot in it. There are nine thousand students in total, fifty one percent of whom are male. I must say I liked those odds. Improves a sister's chances in the dating game, you know. Sports offered are Men's Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Wrestling, Track & Field, Football, Swimming, Ice Hockey, Golf, Rifle, Volleyball, Tennis and Lacrosse along with Women's Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Wrestling, Field Hockey, Swimming, Ice Hockey, Golf, Volleyball, Tennis, Equestrian and Lacrosse. All of them are NCAA Division Two.

The school has a commitment to diversity and I guess they take it seriously. This year, fifty eight percent of the student body is either African-American or Hispanic. We made the White students feel welcome, though. Added a Bowling alley and a Skating Rink. And although you'd never catch them admitting it, the White students are way louder than we are. Especially the local fraternity guys blasting their Hard Rock music. Or the White sorority chicks playing Avril Lavigne all day long. Not that I'm hating. I blast my Chris Brown and Kanye West songs proudly. My favorite hangout is the Sophia House, an all-female and mostly Black dormitory located along Commonwealth Avenue.

Across the way there's Wallace Hall, the only all-male dorm left on campus. Right now, I'm scoping out the place with my binoculars. And I am liking what I see. There's a fine-looking young Black man stepping out of the shower. He's tall, well-built and sexy as hell. Muscular without overdoing it. Dark brown skin. Rugged good looks. And the nicest ass I've seen on a man in ages. And my jaw nearly dropped when he removed his towel and I saw his you-know-what. The guy could knock someone out with that thing! It was frigging huge!

I licked my lips, and almost gasped as I felt an elbow in my ribs. My friend and roommate, Sasha, grabs the binoculars from my hand. I try to pry them from her fingers but it would take the Hulk's strength to do that. Sasha looks at the fine stud as he begins to dress himself, and I can tell she likes what she sees. Oh, I am so mad. I'm missing out on the best parts. I beg her to at least narrate what she's seeing. She does. Hey, if I can't see it with my own eyes, I can at least visualize it.

You're probably wondering what in hell two Black college women are doing at home on a Friday night, peeping at some hot Black guy with binoculars through their window. Well, it's a long story. It's September 2009 and I'm officially a sophomore. That means I'm no longer a freshman, and my sorority sisters have stopped playing pranks on me. I'm no longer fresh meat. I'm rooming with a freshman named Sasha Wilson. On campus we call her the Black Amazon. She dwarfs me, and at six-foot-one, I'm not exactly tiny. She's five inches taller than me, heavyset, big-bottomed and dark-skinned. This sister hails from the town of Harmony, Maine. She's my teammate on the all-new women's wrestling squad. And a major pain in the butt.

Sasha is the only person I know with less of a social life than I do. She came to Langston Hughes College mainly because her father Lawrence Wilson and her brother Larry Jr. used to attend the school. And they were both former wrestlers. I guess we had that in common. My brothers Henry and Anton were wrestlers too. They're both attending Ohio State University. Wrestling in the NCAA Division One. I wish I could have gone away for college like they did but it wasn't in the cards.

I've grown tired of campus life, folks. And the night club scene in Boston is pretty much dead. I see the same guys with the same chicks in all the clubs I go. I get hit on by the same people with the same tired lines. From the drunken purple-haired chicks from Bay State College to the frat guys from Boston College who get dared to ask out random chicks in bars and clubs by their frat brothers. Though most of them aren't my type, ( I prefer my men to be Black, preferably tall and really dark-skinned ) I go easy on them, most of the time. Letting them down easy, you know.

Hey, don't mistake me for some chick who's too picky or thinks she's all that. I'm honest with myself. I'm a big and tall Black woman with a big booty. Most guys on my college campus aren't exactly beating down my door. But I still got my preferences, just like everybody else. It's hard to find a single, available Black man on campus. Oh, there are lots of Black males on campus but ninety percent of them are dating blonde-haired White chicks with names like Amber and Eileen. The rest are either Gay or they're dating Asians and Latinas. Which brings me to the point of this little tale. About how I caught myself a delicious Black stud. I'm referring of course to my boyfriend, who's currently away with the Football team. They're playing against Stonehill College in Easton.

I knew I wanted him the first time I laid eyes on him. Here's how we almost met. I was just coming out of the field house when I saw this really fine-looking Black guy. And I really do mean fine, with an exclamation point! Not just handsome! He was coming out of the nearby Technology building. He was walking next to a buddy of his, some red-haired White guy. Both were laughing and talking. I checked out his ass, surreptitiously of course. He was tall too, easily six-foot-three or more. And even more interesting was the fact that he was broad-shouldered and dark-skinned. A little chubby for my liking but I guess that's okay since he's wearing a Langston Hughes College football jacket. You've got to be big to play football. When I saw how curved his ass was, I decided I'd get this fish for myself.

Yeah, it didn't take me long to find out about the mystery man. I'm delighted to say that he is Haitian-American. The name was a dead giveaway. His name was Matthieu Blanco, Matt for short, and he was an offensive lineman on the all-new Langston Hughes College football team. He was a junior, having transferred from Roxbury Community College, where he played Basketball. He switched to football upon enrolling at Langston Hughes College. I checked out his MySpace page and his Facebook profile. I didn't see pictures of him with any women. I was okay with that.

Over the next few weeks, I basically stalked Matt. I memorized his class schedule. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays he had Database Management, E-Commerce and Automated Accounting. Tuesdays and Thursdays he had his electives, Psychol0gy of Business and Sociology. He was a computer science major, like me. He didn't have a girlfriend but he seemed to hang out a lot with his buddy Rupert Hawking, the tall, red-haired White guy I first saw him. Rupert was captain of the Men's Swim team. Whatever. I asked around, and according to the girls, Matt didn't have a girlfriend. So I decided to make a move. I approached the Black stud while he was sitting alone in a corner of the library, typing something in his laptop.

How do I approach this guy? Contrarily to what most of you might think, it's not that easy for a young woman to approach a guy. Especially if she thinks he's hot. The butterflies in the stomach thing, it's not just guys who feel that way. Girls get like that too. So I put on a smile, and said hey to the man of my dreams. My cute chocolate stud in the letterman jacket. I walked toward him in a deliberately slow, sexy stride....and tripped over a fallen book, falling and landing on my big butt. Ugh! Could things have gone any worse?

Luckily, Matt had noticed my plight. Ever the gentleman, he left his seat and helped me to my feet. I smiled weakly, thanking him. I introduced myself as Wonda, wrestler, college student, and proud nerd. Yes, I am Black and nerdy! With glasses, comic book collection and everything. And I still wear braces. When I said this to Matt, he burst out laughing. I froze. Did I just tank myself? He grinned and told me he was the same way. That we were the same species. I smiled. What do you know? It worked!

And just like that, Matt and I became pals. We had a lot in common. He was genuinely pleased to meet a Black female nerd. Yes, we do exist! We traded cell phone numbers, and befriended each other online. He added me on his Facebook and MySpace. Yay! We're buddies. He's the first male friend I made in college. I usually only hang with the chicks from my sorority or the gals from the women's wrestling squad. I bored Sasha to tears going on and on about how fine Matt was. She finally got tired of my jawing and dared me to ask him out. That gave me pause. Matt and I were real friendly. He seemed to like having me around. What guy wouldn't like a chick who plays World of Warcraft, collects heavy-duty games like God of War and Gears of War along with Marvel comic books and watches the Sci-Fi Channel? Not many. However, how many guys would date such a woman? Again, not many. I wanted to ask Matt out, but I had to tread carefully.

The next day, I got dressed up and ready to go. Checked my makeup ten times before leaving the dorm. I felt awkward in my bright red tank top and short Black dress. Truth be told, the last time I wore a dress was my high school graduation gown. Don't even get me started with the heels. I've never understood why so many women torture their feet with them. Give me flats any day! I went to my classes, hoping to see Matt, and dreading it at the same time. Finally, at noon I went to where I knew he would be. The campus library. Sitting at his usual corner with his laptop. At this hour, the library was deserted. Most of the students were at the various dining halls.

I walked toward Matt. He didn't see me coming. His attention was quite fixated on something on his laptop. I decided to surprise him. As it turns out, we both ended getting surprised. I crept toward Matt, silent in the nearly deserted library. I made my way toward him. Until I was right behind him. He still didn't sense me. I looked over his shoulder, at his computer screen. I saw what he was looking at. On the screen, a porno movie played. A big and tall Black man was fucking a big Black woman. Hordes of Hell, this chick was big! Big and tall, thick-bodied, with huge tits, wide hips and a big round ass. She sat on a chair while the big Black man stood before her. She sucked his long, thick and uncircumcised cock and stroked his balls while he closed his eyes, enjoying what she was doing for him.

I watched, fascinated. So, this is what Matt looks at online when he thinks he's all alone. Onscreen, the big Black woman got on all fours and the big Black man began fucking her from behind. Placing his hands on those wide hips of hers, he began fucking her forcefully, drilling his cock into her. Hot damn. I was actually getting turned on by this. Most web porn didn't do it for me. They featured skinny white women getting nailed by skinny white guys. I didn't know there was porn out there featuring big beautiful Black women getting it on with big handsome Black men. Wow. I could get into that! Okay, now. Time to reveal myself. I took a deep breath, then laid my hand on Matt's shoulder. My favorite stud jumped so high, he could made the Celtics very own Kevin Garnett jealous!

I'm sorry but I couldn't help but laughing. Matt whirled around, and looked at me. He blinked nervously, then closed the laptop's screen. He stared at me. I stared at him. I smiled, and told him I liked his taste in movies. His brows narrowed, and he blinked again. He didn't get what I meant. I guess I'll have to show him. I grabbed his face, and planted a big kiss on his lips. Matt seemed really surprised, but he didn't fight me. In fact, he kissed me back passionately. When our lips parted, he asked me how come I kissed him. I told him the truth. I liked him. He smiled, and told me he liked me too. Taking my hand, he picked up his laptop and we walked to the cafeteria together.

And this, folks, is how it all began.Matt and I became a couple. The big and tall Black Football stud slash comic and his girlfriend, the tall, big-booty, sexy and very voluptuous Black female wrestler slash computer geek. And I'm happy to say that we became that annoying couple you see making out every five seconds, oblivious to the presence of others around them. What can I say? Matt and I go at it all the time. To the point that we would have made the people in the videos he watches online blush. I wanted to make up for lost time and my favorite Black stud is just what the doctor ordered. That's one way to cure a sister of the blues.