My name is Wanda Philogene, and I'm a Haitian woman living in the City of Brockton, Massachusetts. For four years I was married to this tall, handsome African-American guy named Roger Stephens, and had two daughters by him, Amelia and Nicole. Roger and I met while studying at Bridgewater State University, and fell in love. I thought we would be together forever, but fate had other plans for us.
We got divorced, and ever since then, my life has been in shambles. I was not prepared for life on my own, with no one to help me take care of my little family. It's a good thing that I am a strong black woman from the island of Haiti. We are a resilient bunch down there. I am slowly learning to take back control of my life, and exploring my burgeoning sexuality. For the first three decades of my life, I was a hard-working, church-going "good" gal. Now, it's time I started to have fun.
I smiled at my former husband Roger Stephens as he sat on the couch, his hands tied behind his back, his legs bound, watching helplessly as I blew him a kiss. I looked at my lover Sean Prescott, a tall, red-haired and green-eyed white guy I met at work, and smiled. Sean kissed me, and then I began sucking his long white cock while Roger watched, stunned. I showed Roger the middle finger as I went down on Sean. Yup, I really hate Roger.
A long time ago, things were very different between us. I used to love Roger, but that was before he cheated on me twice. The first time, Roger cheated on me with that Jamaican slut Beatrice, a cunt I made the mistake of trusting. Roger told me that Beatrice seduced him, and he begged me to take him back. For the sake of our daughters, I accepted Roger's apology and took him back. I loved our family life and didn't want to let one indiscretion end our marriage.
