Somali Prince In Ottawa Ch. 01

Sometimes, I just need a good fuck, man. Best method of stress relief known to man. My name is Claude and I'm a big and tall young Haitian-Canadian man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I study business management at Carleton University, and I am also forthrightly bisexual. That's not considered cool in the Haitian community but I honestly don't care. I don't live with my folks, Abraham and Jeannine Saint Pierre anymore. Got my own spot, so I can finally live my own life. Things are absolutely fantastic, you heard!

I invited my buddy Rashid Bashir over for some fun, and we got into it, man. Rashid is a tall, good-looking Somali brother I met at the gym at school. I could tell that he was like me, a brother who swings both ways, even though he was very masculine. A lot of the white girls at the gym flirt with him, as do some of the sisters. A couple of times I saw Rashid holding hands with an Arab-looking chick whom I figured was his girlfriend. Cool. Doesn't bother me none.

Long before I approached Rashid, I scoped him out. We became friends, which was cool since we lead similar lives. Rashid is originally from the City of Edmonton, Alberta, and moved to Ottawa mainly to get away from his conservative Somali immigrant family. His folks, Samir and Amal Bashir got no idea that their favorite son is a switch hitter, and that suits Rashid just fine. I'm out but I'm not one of those bisexual guys who feel that every other bisexual dude out there should expose his business.

Coming out is a deeply personal decision for every bisexual man out there. The gay community doesn't like us bisexual men, and neither do straight people, so only the strongest of bisexual males have it in them to come out of the closet and stay out. I mainly associate with straight people, and avoid the gay scene like the plague. Besides, in Ottawa, the gays and lesbians are among the most racist people I've ever seen. I swear, you'll find a straight redneck who's cool with black folks a lot quicker than you'll meet a gay white Canadian who likes visible minorities.

I say this as a bisexual black man who got tossed out of one of Ottawa's trendiest gay bars because one of the patrons, an overweight gay white dude, called me the N-word after I turned him down. I punched the bozo and security asked me to leave, lest they call the pigs. I left, swearing I'd never come back. I didn't fit in anyways. I'm a big and tall, masculine black man. The gay club was full of girly white guys and their fag hags. Totally not my scene, man. That's why I mainly hang out with other people of color. Fuck Ottawa's racist white queers and their bullshit. I don't need them anyways.

Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yeah. I was telling you about Rashid Bashir, the fine-looking Somali brother I met at school. I learned a lot about him as we became pals. Rashid is studying accounting at Carleton University and hopes to become a CRA analyst someday. Me? I'd never work for the Canadian government. I'm a private sector kind of guy. The government jobs seldom go to visible minorities in Ottawa. A lot of big companies will hire you even if you're black, as long as you're educated and qualified. The Canadian government only hires white folks, whether qualified or not.

Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. I see a lot of people with college and university degrees, mostly black and brown people, working at Starbucks and Tim Horton's downtown. They're working menial jobs after acquiring degrees from accredited Canadian universities because the Canadian government won't hire them. Ottawa is a government town. The private sector is making some headway here but the Canadian government is the biggest employer in the area. And they're not into racial diversity, beyond a few tokens here and there.

Shoot, there I go again. I'm sorry for ranting. I just get worked up when dealing with Ottawa folks and their bullshit. My parents moved to the City of Montreal, Quebec, from the island of Haiti in the 1980s and I was actually born in the environs of Laval. Montreal is fairly diverse, too bad there aren't a lot of jobs there. Quebec is beautiful, fun and diverse but its economy is in the crapper. Why else would a bilingual brother like myself bother with living in Ottawa?

Sometimes I miss my old life in Quebec. I miss Carol Grenier, this six-foot-tall, red-haired and green-eyed, alabaster-skinned and deliciously big-bottomed French Canadian gal I was seeing a while ago. Carol was simply gorgeous, and like a lot of white girls in Quebec, she liked the Haitian brothers. We dated for a while and had a lot of fun together. Carol was great in the sack. The Quebec chick could suck a mean dick, man. Unfortunately, the gal wasn't too open-minded. When I told her that I felt sexually attracted to both women and men, Carol didn't take it too well. Long story short? Carol dumped my black ass. That was cold, man. Almost as cold as when my parents kicked me out after catching me in bed with Victor, this Nigerian dude who lived in our neighborhood.

As you can see, with an angry ex-girlfriend and irate Haitian parents on my ass, I had to leave the beautiful metropolis of Montreal. I was supposed to study at McGill University but my folks pulled their financial support. That's why I came to Ottawa to study at Carleton University. I'd like to think I've built a decent life for myself here. I work as a security guard to pay the bills. I'm taking four courses this semester. I go to church once in a while. I haven't made too many friends in town. Too busy for that.

Rashid is cool, and well-liked at Carleton University. Dude looks good, and seems to have the perfect life. He even introduced me to his girlfriend Amina Lahoud, a tall and curvy, bronze-skinned and dark-haired Lebanese beauty. Shoot, even in my straight days I couldn't have pulled an Arab chick. Rashid assured me that lots of Arab women liked black men, a brother just had to be persistent. Man, I respect Rashid's game.

A knock at my door startled me out of my reverie and angry musings, and I got up from my living room couch. I opened the door, and a vision of masculine beauty greeted me. Rashid stood there, clad in a blue silk shirt, black silk pants and shiny black shoes. Brother looked sinfully sexy. I let him in, and like the gracious host that I am, I took off Rashid's coat.

We sat down, and grabbed a couple of beers. Rashid looked nervous as hell. To calm him down, I told him about my fruitless job search in Ottawa. As a third-year student in a business program at a major Canadian university, I ought to be able to find better work than working as a security guard but hey, Ottawa doesn't like to hire brothers. Rashid nodded and smiled, and I went on and on, pretending not to stare at his fine body.

Shut up Claude, Rashid said, and I fell silent as the tall Somali stud got up and stood in front of me. Okay, I said, and without warning, Rashid grabbed me, yanked me from my chair, and threw me on the carpeted floor. What the fuck? I didn't invite this brother over to my house to get dissed, man. Rashid laughed and wrestled against me. I'm bigger than him but Rashid was quite strong. I forgot to mention the dude's kind of muscular. I found myself overpowered. Not a good feeling.

Give me that ass, Rashid said, and I smiled faintly as he yanked off my shorts, and grabbed my dick. The Somali dude smiled as he stroked my long and thick, uncircumcised Haitian dick. Rashid began sucking my dick, and in no time, the dude had me hard as hell. When I came, Rashid drank my seed, and told me I tasted great.

Thank you, I whispered, and Rashid laughed. Rolling a condom on his dick, Rashid reached for the bottle of Aloe cream on the living room table, and helped himself. After lubricating my ass, Rashid pressed his hard dick against my hole, and looked into my eyes. Here I come, Rashid said, and pushed his dick into my tight ass.

I screamed as the Somali dude worked his big dick up my Haitian ass. Hard and fast Rashid pumped his dick into me. I cried out in pleasure and stroked my dick furiously, for I love a good fucking. I fuck women of all races but when I need some dick, I only do brothers. No white dudes, since most of the ones in Ottawa are racist and insecure. No Asian dudes, since they seem to hate black folks. No Indian guys, since from what I heard, they're not packing, though there may be exceptions.

When I need a good fucking, nothing beats a long and thick black dick, and I say this as a proud bisexual black man who likes to get fucked. Rashid was exactly what I needed, folks. The Somali brother worked my ass over, slamming his dick up my buns like there was no tomorrow. I am not ashamed to say that I cried in joy as he filled me up. Left me breathless, with a sore butt, after I came all over myself several times. We had a good time.

Until next time, Rashid said, as he readjusted his clothes. The Somali brother let himself out. I sat there, feeling mixed feelings, to tell you the truth. I don't like being treated like a bitch, especially in my own home. Rashid has the dick of death, but we're going to have a serious talk about his manners next time I see him. Or perhaps I'll just delete him from my Facebook and hunt for some new dick. There's a tall, masculine Jamaican dude named Adam who moved into my building. The guy has no girlfriend, and spends a lot of time by himself. From the way he looked at me, I could tell that Adam was at least bisexual. Maybe I'll drop by for a visit at Adam's place like a good neighbor, you know?