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I went out the other day, and spotted this ridiculously good-looking man walking through the Champlain Place Shopping Center in downtown Moncton. He was tall, easily six-foot-two or more, with broad shoulders, a lean and athletic body, and a really cute face. Oh, and he was of African descent, looking downright sexy in a black leather jacket over a bright red silk shirt, black silk pants and indigo tie. We don’t get a lot of African businessmen in the City of Moncton, Province of New Brunswick, so like most people at the mall, I was staring at this absolutely sexy brother who was minding his own business. In case you’re wondering who this is, my name is Ashley Saint-Denis, and I’m a French Canadian woman who worships Black men.
Most people who meet me say that I’m the tomboy type. Sometimes I get mistaken for a butch lesbian. I’m five-foot-eleven, slim and fit, with short reddish brown hair and pale blue eyes. I have tattoos over ninety percent of my body. Only my face and my pussy lack tattoos. I have them everywhere else. I am thirty two years old, and hold a Master’s degree in business administration from the University of Quebec in the City of Montreal. After getting fired from the Canadian Revenue Agency, I returned to my hometown of Moncton, Province of New Brunswick, and became a tattoo artist. That was eight years ago. I am doing what I love, and it makes me happy. I don’t need the stress of an office job. My company, Maritime Ink, has five locations in the vastness of Canada. One in the City of Moncton, one in the City of Montreal, one in the City of Ottawa and two in the City of Toronto. It’s a multi-million-dollar business, ladies and gentlemen. Not bad, eh?
I love walking around the Champlain Place Shopping Center, the largest in the City of Moncton. The Maritime Provinces are the Whitest of all Canada, and we don’t get a lot of racial minorities up here. Lately I’ve been seeing a few Asians, Africans and Arabs here and there but their numbers in New Brunswick are low compared to the rest of Canada. Sometimes I wish I could live somewhere more diverse like the City of Montreal but my friends and family are here in Moncton. I can’t just get up and take off. Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yes. I was telling you about the sexy African man I ran into at the Champlain Place Mall. He bought a couple of suits from the Italian guy’s store, and then sat in the busy food course with some Chinese food. Everywhere around him, people stared. I felt like slapping my forehead. We’re in the twenty-first century. A Black man is President of the United States of America. A Black woman was once Governor General of us right here in Canada. Big changes are happening all over the Continent of North America. Yet the City of Moncton, New Brunswick, hasn’t changed a bit. We’re homogenous and dull.
Feeling uncharacteristically bold, I stopped at the African man’s table, and greeted him with a bright smile. I pulled a chair and sat across from him. He looked at me like I was an alien or something. I smiled, and introduced myself. After hesitating briefly, he shook my hand. The handsome African turned out to be a native of metropolitan Montreal, Province of Quebec. His name was Samuel Saint-Lieu, and he was Haitian, not African. I put down my Pepsi and sandwich, and asked him how his day was going. Even though I appeared to be calm, I was really nervous. Inside the Champlain Place Shopping Center, all eyes were on us. They don’t see Black men very often in the town of Moncton. I was definitely the center of attention now that I seemed to be having dinner with the handsome Samuel Saint-Lieu, who was apparently in town on business.
I learned quite a bit about him. He didn’t seem the least bit shy around me, and I took that as a good thing. I’m tall, leather-clad and tattooed. A lot of people make assumptions when they meet me. Samuel Saint-Lieu was a recent graduate of McGill University’s MBA program. He worked for the Canadian Revenue Agency in downtown Ottawa, Ontario, and he was checking up on a business venture here in Moncton. An African-themed art gallery called Casa Nubia. It showcased art by numerous African and Afro-Caribbean artists. Wow. Samuel Saint-Lieu was clearly a high roller. This guy worked for the same company that fired me, and not only did he make good money, he had enough left over to invest. That’s nice. Really nice. I gave Samuel Saint-Lieu the once-over. Yes, us White folks are always underestimating the Black man. He wasn’t just tall and sexy, he was also smart as a whip, with a university degree and some money. Why can’t I meet more men like that? I’m a reclusive sort who plays scrabble and World of Warcraft on weekends. Sounds boring, right?
Samuel looked me in the eyes and asked me why I was sitting across from him. I smiled and told him that he was the most interesting man I had seen in months. In a homogenous lily-white town like Moncton, you can go for months without seeing anyone who’s Asian, African, Arab or anything other than Caucasian. Migrant workers from the Somali and Arab communities of Calgary, Alberta, come up here sometimes to do construction work but they’re the exception that proves the rule. I have a thing for men of African descent. I dated quite a few of them while studying at the University of Quebec in the City of Montreal and I dearly miss them. Samuel smiled when I told him that and told me that I should get out of town more. I blushed. In truth, I’ve given some serious thought to moving somewhere more racially diverse, like Ottawa or Montreal. Moncton is too White even for me.
Samuel smiled, and told me that his flight was leaving for Ottawa in four hours. He was returning to his room at the Chateau Moncton Hotel downtown to get some rest. I smiled coyly at him and asked him if he wanted some company. Sorry if that sounded lame but I don’t hit on guys very often. Samuel smiled and told me to follow him. Like a lovesick puppy, I walked out of the Champlain Place Shopping Center with this handsome Black stud, and everybody stared at us. Yes, I am a White woman walking around with a Black man. What the fuck is your problem? We went back to Samuel’s hotel, and I’m afraid to say that he didn’t get any rest and I am to blame for it.
How I found myself on my hands and knees, sucking on Samuel’s long and thick, uncircumcised ebony cock like my life depended on it, I’ll never know. I recall the two of us kissing and groping in the elevator, causing the clerks and cleaners to blush. Then we were in Samuel’s sumptuous room, hopping on the bed and doing the nasty. I undressed hastily, taking off my black leather miniskirt and tank top. I feasted my eyes on the sight of Samuel naked. The handsome Haitian looked good enough to eat. I kissed him, and he fondled my breasts before sucking on my nipples. My hands found his chest, raked sharp fingernails over his chest hairs and fastened themselves around his cock. I kissed a path from Samuel’s lips to his chest, and finally to his groin area. I inhaled the scent of his manhood before sucking his cock while stroking his big black balls.
Samuel groaned as I sucked his dick, and he ran his hands through my short hair. Sometimes I wish I had longer hair because it would be awesome to have a sexy Black guy pull my hair during sex. I sucked Samuel’s cock and licked his balls with gusto, and when he came, I drank his masculine seed. I licked him clean without spilling a single drop. Am I good or what? Samuel put on a condom, and I climbed on top of him. Grabbing my hips firmly, Samuel thrust his big dick into my cunt. I licked my lips and began riding him real hard as he pumped his cock inside of me. I hadn’t had Black dick inside me in almost a year. I definitely wanted to make up for lost time. Things intensified as Samuel put me on all fours, spanking my ass as he slammed into me from behind. I squealed in delight, urging him to fuck me harder. Samuel gave it to me really good, making my pussy quiver as he fucked me like I owed him rent.
Two hours later, Samuel put me out, but not before I showered and thanked him for the best sex I’ve had in ages. I went back to my mansion, feeling really good. Hot sex will do that to you. I wonder if I’ll ever see Samuel again. Probably not. The sex was good but he and I lead very different lives. The next time I get a craving for some sweet chocolate in masculine form, I will go the City of Montreal or perhaps the City of Toronto. Plenty of good-looking, sexy Black men down there. And you know they won’t mind hitting on a lady like me. As I lay on my bed that night, I fingered my cunt and thought of that delicious macho stud Samuel. I’d love another shot at him. Like all Black men, he’s magically delicious.
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