Lots of young Black men dream of bedding a hot older Black woman, and I'm definitely no exception. Been a fantasy of mine for a long time. When it finally happened, it kind of blew me away. My name is Stephen Rousseau and I'm a young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I attend Algonquin College, where I study business administration. When I'm not in class or at work, I'm all about chasing the pretty ladies. Recently, I've experienced a few minor setbacks both in my personal and professional life.
With my arrogant and violent asshole of a roommate, Delano, gone, I found myself paying rent solo in my Vanier apartment. Not the easiest feat in the world, considering I only make twelve dollars an hour working as a cashier at Loblaw's. My parents, Eugene and Marianne would help if they could but the economy is bad in Montreal, Quebec, where they live. Looks like I'm on my own as I face the crucible called life as a Black man in Canada, I guess.
For much of this year, I was dating a lovely, raven-haired and green-eyed white chick named Dominique Morrison. Now, typically I prefer the sisters but there was something about Dominique that I really liked. This petite, small-breasted and flat-bottomed white chick actually stole my heart. From the onset, she was really friendly and generous when dealing with me. We met at the campus library and simply clicked. We started hanging out, then next thing I knew, we were a couple. For eight months, everything was perfect. I never thought of myself as the kind of brother who goes after white women but I was happy with Dominique. She's a social work student at Algonquin.
Anyhow, the end of our relationship came unexpectedly and left me reeling, man. Dominique simply sat me down and talked to me, explaining calmly and rationally why she couldn't be with me. Something about her parents not approving. I met her father Robert Norris Morrison and her mother Sharon and they were cool. At least I thought they were. I only met them that one time. Dominique is originally from Sherbrook, Quebec, so her parents aren't in Ontario very often. I looked at Dominique and shook my head. Then I got up and walked away without saying anything. No, I did not shed a tear that night as I lay on my bed, my mind swirling over the demise of our once-promising relationship. White chicks, man. Nah, make that women in general. Regardless of color, all women play with men's feelings. They really know how to wreck a poor guy's heart when they set their mind to it. Not that I'm bitter or anything, you know?
To get over Dominique, I buried myself in my job and schoolwork. I mean, what else could I do? Sitting around moping about what might have been is definitely not productive. I spent a lot of time in the school library, partly because, as a business student, I had a ton of research to do. That's how I met Farizah "Rizah" Ibrahim. A six-foot-tall, caramel-skinned and golden-eyed, decidedly gorgeous Afro-Arabian Muslim woman with long, neatly braided hair and a spectacularly hot, curvy body. Farizah is fairly attractive, and in her late thirties. We got to talking, and I learned a bit about her. Born in Cameroon to an African mother and Lebanese father, Farizah is a newcomer to Canada. The lady has a son named Rahim living somewhere in Toronto. Her Syrian ex-husband Rafiq was not in the picture. Cool.
