From Korea with Love in Ottawa

Meredith Connelly is just the wrong name for an Asian chick, for real. Living in Canada, I've been told time and again that I'm not what most people expect when they hear my name. I was born and raised in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. My father, Marcel Connelly is white and my mother, Jennifer Hyungwang is originally from the City of Gimje, South Korea. They met as students at Carleton University in the 1980s, fell in love, got married and had little old me. Dad's a civil engineer and mom works at the National Bank of Canada downtown.

My parents split in 2009, the same year I graduated from Saint Matthew High School. A lot of people my age lament their folks divorce and see it as the day their oh so wonderful families got broken up. Me? I'm far more cynical than that. After the affairs, the shouting matches and the lies, on both sides, I honestly wondered what was keeping my folks together. Let them be happier without each other. Not everything broken can or should be fixed. Easy come and easy go, I say.

After the divorce, my parents sold the house in Orleans. Mom moved into an apartment in Barrhaven and my dad moved to a bachelor pad in Vanier. I moved into the dorms at Carleton University and began my criminology studies in September 2009. I graduated from Carleton University with a bachelor's degree in criminology in the summer of 2013. Like so many young people with recently acquired college and university degrees, I was enthusiastically looking for work. Someone forgot to tell me that in a town like Ottawa, it's not what you know it's who you know.

My mom tried to get me a job at the bank but it didn't work. Even as a mid-level manager, there's only so much she could do in such a lousy economy. Another thing working against me is the fact that I'm half white and half Asian. I have a white-sounding last name and I speak English and French fluently but I am still a minority. When I show up for job interviews, human resources people who've spoken to me on the phone tend to do a double take.

You'd think they'd seen a ghost, or something. Their eyes go wide, their lips tremble and they look at the papers in their hands before smiling frostily and inviting me to come into their offices. I already know I won't get the damn job. It would almost be comical if it weren't so sad and preposterously racist on their part, seriously. This is Ottawa, after all. The town that fun forgot. Ontario is considered a liberal province but Ottawa isn't too friendly to us immigrant types. That's why people gawk at me.

Instead of the white chick they were expecting, they're dealing with me. I'm five-foot-ten, curvy and firm-bodied, with light bronze skin, long black hair and lime-green eyes. That's my natural eye color, by the way. Green eyes run in my father's side of the family, as does height and athleticism. My pops once played rugby during his university days. I played soccer both in high school and while in university. It's my favorite sport. I was a B student at Carleton University. Not all Asians are academic superstars. Gosh I wish stereotypes would magically go away but who am I kidding? That'll never happen because people need a means to demean those different from themselves.

As you can see, my job search, fruitless as it were, left me more than a bit cynical and somewhat bitter. I talked to my dad about it and he tried to sound supportive, but he was also busy with his new girlfriend, Deirdre Baxter, a redhead from Calgary, Alberta. The first time I met Deirdre, she couldn't believe that my father and I were related. You look totally Chinese, she said to me, smiling. I gritted my teeth, eyed her coolly and told her I was half Irish and half Korean. If dad noticed my malaise while talking to Deirdre, he kept mum about it.

It never ceases to amaze me, how easily my father, Marcel Connelly, slid back into white society after decades spent married to an Asian woman and raising a mixed-race daughter with her. It's almost as if my mother and I never existed. He's got plans to marry Deirdre and starting a family with her. Once that happens, it will be as though my mother and I never existed. I know what you're thinking. I shouldn't think like that. Daddy will always love me, blah and more blah. Sorry, but I don't think so. My father's marriage to my mother didn't work, and I think he's distanced himself from us, especially her, because we're constant reminders of his failures. He's starting over with a younger woman from his own race, and that's that. My father is moving on with his life, and my mother and I have to do the same.

While searching for work, I pondered what my next move should be. I moved to Overbrook because it's a cheaper part of Ottawa. I took a job with Loblaw's, yes, the Canadian grocery store chain. I began working there for eleven bucks an hour, working eight-hour shifts at night because I needed to continue with my job search during the day. How the mighty has fallen. I graduated with good academic standing from Carleton University's criminology program and now I'm stocking shelves inside a grocery store, dealing with the drunken louts who come in at night. I hated the job with a fiery passion and longed for the day when I'd find something more suitable to me.

It's often been said that everything happens for a reason, and I thought it was just a platitude, until it happened to me. One night, while stocking the shelves at Loblaw's, I got attacked by a bum. Not the harmless kind, the crazy kind. As I tried to stop the creep from grabbing my throat, my rescue came from a most unlikely source. A tall young black man in a G4S security uniform. He grabbed the creep, and tossed him aside as if he weighed nothing. Then he looked at me, smiled and held out his hand. Are you alright ma'am? he said, concern in his deep voice.

I looked up at him and hesitantly took his hand. Thank you, I said, still a bit frazzled by the whole thing. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I met Thomas Olayinka. The man destined to change my life. After he rescued me, the night crew chief at my Loblaw's thanked him profusely, and called the cops. The police arrived, got our story, and hauled the bum away. I stood there, still a bit shaken. On his way out, I asked my savior his name, I hadn't caught it as we talked to the policemen, and he told it to me. Thank you Thomas, I said. He smiled and wished me goodnight, then he walked out after paying for his groceries.

The next day, I slept from eight o'clock until about three in the afternoon. Working the night shift isn't easy or fun. You feel like you're starting the day behind everybody else. Well, it's because you are, in a way. The human body was meant to sleep at night and stay active during the day. I woke up feeling stiff and groggy, and wondering what I was doing when my life went to hell. Seriously. How does one go from go from university graduate and promising young professional to being stuck in a dead-end job?

I went jogging and for some reason, I ran from my apartment on Quill Street all the way to Montreal Road, and then made my way down Rideau Street. I like to stay in shape. Back in the day, playing on the women's soccer team helped but those days are long gone. I'm tall and curvy and still fit but it wouldn't take much for me to get fat. So I jog relentlessly every damn day. I finally stopped on Parliament Hill, and spotted a familiar silhouette. A tall young black man in a green T-shirt and blue jeans. Hello Miss Connelly, Thomas said cheerfully.

I smiled at Thomas as I recognized him. Hello again, I said, and shook his hand. I was kind of surprised to see him on the Hill and he told me he was just finishing work. We walked together for a bit. I was a bit winded from my kilometers-long run. Thomas asked me to grab a bite with him. Drinks only because I'm staying in shape, I told him and he nodded. We walked down to Tim Horton's and he got me a coffee and ordered a bagel and apple juice for himself. As we ate and chatted, I noted how fine-looking Thomas was, and found myself wanting to know him a bit better.

I was born in Nigeria and my family moved to Canada in 2005, Thomas said, sipping on his apple juice. I nodded, and noticed that he spoke with no discernible accent. And the way he spoke, so 'articulate', for lack of a better word ( I hate that term by the way, it's racially charged ) led me to believe he was no ordinary security guard. So what do you do in life? I asked him. A quick smile from him as he sipped on his drink before answering my question. I'm studying police foundations at Algonquin College and I finish this summer, Thomas said proudly.

When Thomas said he dreamed of working in that field, my heart skipped a beat. Looks like we're birds of a feather, I said. Thomas seemed puzzled. I smiled at that. Thomas looked at me, a curious look on his face. I studied criminology at Carleton University, I told him. Thomas smiled, nodded and grinned. Two of a kind, he said. I looked at him and shrugged. Cop or lawyer? I asked. Winking, Thomas said he hadn't decided yet. I considered that. Cool, I said.

We'd been inside the Tim Horton's for a good forty five minutes and it was seriously getting dark. Soon I'd have to head on home because I work the eleven to seven shift overnight at Loblaw's. I definitely wanted to see Thomas again, I found him interesting and intelligent. That's why, when he took out his cell, I happily told him my digits. Keep in touch, I said, and smiled. Thomas nodded, then we shook hands. He had some business to take care of downtown and I had to rush back to Overbrook because I'm one busy gal. See you soon Meredith, Thomas said, winking at me. I smiled and walked out the door. Dude's a charmer, that's for sure.

The following Tuesday, Thomas and I went to the Silver City theater in Ottawa's east end to catch a movie, and afterwards we grabbed a bite at Mongolian Village, this chic restaurant located nearby. Conversation with Thomas was fun and light, until he asked me two questions I felt were, somewhat, iffy. First, he wanted to know what an educated and obviously ambitious gal like me was doing at Loblaw's. Second, he wanted to know what a lovely gal like me was doing still single. Seriously, why do people treat singlehood as if it's some kind of defect?

Ottawa doesn't like to hire minorities with university degrees, I told Thomas coolly, a bit of bitterness in my voice. He looked at me, really looked at me, and I saw something in his eyes that moved me. Sincere empathy instead of the fake sympathy people give you when you're in pain and they can't relate to what you're feeling. I know how you feel, Thomas said, and gently touched my hand. I looked at his hand on mine, and didn't shrink back. I swear, I just met this guy a few days ago and I can't explain it but I had a good feeling about him. Usually I'm pretty guarded, especially around people I don't know that well. Not Thomas. Thank you, I said.

When minorities become the majority we'll make our oppressors rue the day, Thomas said, winking at me. I smiled at that. Go team, I said, and actually laughed. We walked out of the restaurant, and enjoyed a long walk all over Ogilvie before taking the bus back. As I sat on the bus, I thought about Thomas, and found myself smiling. A lot. There are a lot of things I like about him. The guy is tall, good-looking and intelligent, and he's also a man of vision. So many minority types I meet in Ottawa are either wide-eyed in their naivete or sagging under the weight of defeatism. Thomas is a realist, and I like that.

Thomas is something else, to say the least. The guy knows just what to say, and he's definitely easy on the eyes. That's when I decided to give a relationship with him a try. And you know what? It turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made. We look good together, and we get along famously. A tall, well-built and ruggedly handsome young black man and a tall, classy biracial gal of Korean and Irish descent. Definitely not the sort of couple you see every day in the lily-white and uptight world of Ottawa. That's okay. Our time will come, Thomas assured me whenever I expressed doubt about my lack of progress after graduating.

Guess what? Thomas was absolutely right. I recently sent a resume to the Ontario Ministry of Corrections and guess what? Not only did they call me back but I got the J.O.B. I aced the interview and the background check/vetting process and I'm reporting for training next week. The job pays twenty dollars per hour. I can't wait to start! Granted, I always saw myself as a police officer or perhaps a lawyer, certainly not as a prison guard but so what? At least I'll be working in my field.

When I dropped the news on Thomas he was real happy for me. You rock babe, he told me, sincere admiration in his voice and eyes. I looked at this young man, and my heart went out to him. You always know just what to say, I said, marveling at this seemingly innate quality he has. Thomas smiled modestly and nodded. He took my hand and brought it to his lips. You earned it Meredith, he said, and winked at me. I laid my hand on Thomas's thigh. I can think of fun ways of celebrating, I told him, licking my lips suggestively. Thomas managed to look shocked. Oh my, he said, and laughed.

A half hour later, Thomas and I were in my apartment, doing the bump and grind. I hadn't had any in a while, close to a year, and I definitely wanted to make up for lost time. As soon as we got to my place, off came our clothes, and inhibitions. We'd been dating for a couple of months and had done the make-out/heavy petting thing but hadn't crossed the line and gotten naked. Well, now I desperately wanted to scratch that itch, and Thomas was most happy to help a gal out.

I stood naked before Thomas, five feet ten inches of curvy, dark-haired, sharp-featured and sexy mama. Born and bred in Canada. He lay on the bed, a vision of masculine beauty with his muscular, dark-skinned body that looked so damn enticing. Come to me, he said, his eyes coy and serious at the same time. Hands on my hips, I pretended to hesitate, then eagerly went to him. I was horny as hell and Thomas had better satisfy me, or else.

On my bed I lay, perfectly relaxed and stark naked, with Thomas between my legs, happily licking and fingering my pussy. I closed my eyes and enjoyed myself as my sexy lover's tongue and fingers sent thrills of pleasure deep inside of me. All the tension I'd been feeling in recent days slowly left my body as Thomas explored me, delighting my flesh with his oh so delightful intrusions. Earlier he'd kissed me passionately and licked me from my head to my toes. Sucking on my tits, he slipped his hand between my thighs and just kind of grabbed my crotch, real hard.

That kind of surprised me, but I liked it. Nice, I said huskily, and Thomas laughed, inserting his fingers inside my cunt. He cupped my butt cheeks and pinched them while greedily munching on my pussy like a hungry man who hadn't eaten in days. I lay there, squirming and moaning as my sexy lover devoured me, and I arched my back, trashed wildly and urged him to go on. It was such sweet torture, and I didn't want it to end. For over half an hour Thomas licked me up like a lollipop, and I was like putty in his hands at the end.

You must have been a lesbo in a past life you eat pussy so good, I said, shaking my head as I looked at Thomas. My boo licked his lips and shrugged casually. I got skills babe, he laughed, then patted his groin. My eyes lit up when I saw his long and thick, scary-looking member. Come to daddy, Thomas said, all seriousness now. I reached for it with both hands, and stroked it. Let me taste it, I said, and a second later, I did just that. I licked Thomas's dick and he laughed, causing me to shoot him a wuthering look. Seriously, is pissing off a chick who's holding your dick a smart move, guys?

I took Thomas dick into my mouth and caressed his big black fuzzy balls, a move which drove him absolutely nuts. Damn lady you're killing me, Thomas laughed. I winked at him and continued working my magic. I like the smell of a man's balls, right underneath the sac. I don't know why. Thomas is really hairy down there and has a deep, manly musk. Hmmm. I sucked his dick with gusto, and soon had him moaning and groaning. It didn't take him long to give it up. I'm about to blow, Thomas shouted, warning me.

Ignoring Thomas pleas, I continued sucking his dick, then watched the coming storm as his knees buckled and he finally gave it up. Yup, that's right, I got splashed all over by Thomas masculine spunk. Like liquid fire it struck my face, and some even dripped on my chest. My bad, Thomas said, sighing in pleasure, with a sheepish look on his handsome mug. I winked at him. I fucking love that shit, I laughed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Grinning, Thomas grabbed me and pulled me on top of him. Then he kissed me. Now come ride this jimmy, Thomas said, and I purred like a kitten before doing as I was told. Straddling Thomas, I felt his still-hard dick throb under me. Let's go for a ride, I whispered. Thomas grinned and slid his hard dick into my cunt. I gasped as he entered me. Thomas hands gently caressed my tits, then he smacked my ass. Ride me, he commanded. I felt Thomas hard cock fill my cunt, and surrendered to the awesome feeling of his flesh meeting mine. Fuck yeah, I screamed, and rested my hands on Thomas broad shoulders as I rode him as hard as I could.

A few hours and several trips to paradise later, Thomas and I lay on my bed, sweaty and exhausted but happy as can be. I needed that, I said, grinning happily. Thomas nodded, and kissed me on the lips. Good night babe, he said, then started snoozing moments later. I shook my head and smiled, marveling at him. The guy was all energy and manly fury just moments ago, and now he's snoring loud enough to wake the dead. I guess I wore him out, eh? Power of the pussy, folks. Never underestimate it. I went to sleep next to the man I cherish above all others, and felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in ages. And why shouldn't I? I've got love in my life, stability, and a new job. Things are finally looking up.