Sneha Was My Real Prize
- 3 years ago
- 25
- 0
A Black Woman’s Love Is A Prize free porn video
Every man who has ever lived has that one woman he simply cannot forget. For me, that woman is Monique Etienne. The woman I simply cannot get enough of. A five-foot-eleven, curvy and brown-skinned young woman of Haitian descent. She’s got long, neatly braided hair and the most amazing light brown eyes. Oh, man. Silly me, I almost forgot to mention her voluptuous body and heart-shaped ass. A curvy Black woman with a cute face and fantastic behind, that’s my ideal of beauty. This lovely lady is a graduate student at Suffolk University in Boston, Massachusetts. Until I met her, I was absolutely hating the idea of settling down. Seriously. Now she’s making me reconsider many things.
My name is Stephen Roche. A big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent who somehow went from Boston, Massachusetts to the strange world of Toronto, the biggest city of the Canadian province of Ontario. I can’t stand Canada, folks. I’ve never hidden how I felt. I grew up in Boston. I’m a fan of the Boston Red Sox. And I love the Boston Celtics. Growing up, some of my best friends, like Rocky Rodriguez, Andy Chang, Jamal Hays, Sean O’Bannon and Luther Heinrich were also die-hard Boston sports fans. These dudes were my lifelong buddies. Some cool guys I met while playing basketball in my neighbourhood YMCA.
That’s the thing about Lord I miss these guys. The cool thing about Boston is that you know where you stand. It’s a big, diverse city. Fifty percent of all Bostonians are people of African-American, Asian or Hispanic descent. And most of the time, everybody was cool with everybody. I’m not saying there is no racism. We’ve got bigots everywhere. However, in Boston, most folks were decent. Just living their lives. Once you get to know them, you’ll discover that they could care less about your color or stuff like that. That’s what I love about Boston. It’s a place where every man, even a Black man, can be just one of the guys.
Maybe it’s culture shock but Canada isn’t like that. No matter how progressive and multicultural they claim to be. They’re a lot less friendly and open-minded about race relations and cultural issues than they claim to be. You’ve got to watch your back in Canada if you’re a person of color. Especially in the Province of Ontario. Trust me on that one. Oh, man. I think that I’m getting ahead of myself quite a bit here. Let me first tell you about the events that forced me to leave my beloved city of Boston for the weirdness of Canada. The end starts now, folks.
Sometimes, things can go really wrong in a man’s life. And quite often, there’s absolutely nothing you can do. You can go from having the world on a string to getting your butt kicked by the collective foot of the universe. A year ago, I was a student at the Boston campus of the University of Massachusetts, located in the heart of Boston. My life was finally getting on track. I was back in school, and I was determined to get my bachelors degree in Criminal Justice. Being a police officer is what I’ve always wanted to do. My father Antoine Roche is a sergeant with the Boston Police Department. My mother Astrid teaches Criminal Justice at Emerson College. My uncle Louis Roche is a Patrol Officer with the Massachusetts State Troopers. My cousin Henry works for the Massachusetts Department of Corrections. Yeah, law enforcement seems to run in the family.
I had it all planned. I wanted to get my degree, then head straight to the police academy. I’ve always been a goal-oriented brother, even if I do occasionally get sidetracked. I lived in my folks house still, but I helped out with groceries and other bills by working as a Security Guard at Copley Mall. Work, school and church, those were my priorities. I go to Brockton Community Temple, the Haitian Adventist Church of Brockton. It’s where I met a tall, sexy young woman named Monique Etienne. And my carefully ordered life started to fall apart.
Monique Etienne is the daughter of Gerald Etienne, a prominent Haitian-American lawyer well-known in the African-American community of New England. He’s one of the counsellors working directly for Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick. Her mother Elisabeth DuRosier Etienne is a professor of business at Emerson College, where my mom works. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that our mothers know each other and aren’t exactly the best of friends. I was smitten with Monique Etienne the first time I laid eyes on her. Tall and curvy, with medium brown skin, long Black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. She reminded me of that Hollywood starlet Gabrielle Union. Hot damn.
Monique Etienne and her family had recently moved to Brockton’s quietly affluent West Side. And they were newcomers to the Temple. As a church deacon, it was my job to make newcomers feel welcome. That’s how I got to know Monique. This tall, sexy young Black woman was a student at Boston College. It’s one of the most expensive schools in New England, and also one of the best. I would have done anything to attend B.C. It’s got one of the best football programs around and it’s a really fine school. Unfortunately, I’m not filthy rich. I’m on an academic scholarship at UMass-Boston. Monique was really easygoing and down to earth, considering her impressive background.
I mean, whenever I meet a B.A.P. I tend to hold my breath. What is a B.A.P.? Simply put, a Black American Princess. A young Black woman who’s pretty, educated and comes from a middle-class or upper middle-class family. That’s what I like. Monique had B.A.P. written all over her, and I wanted some of this Black goddess brown sugar. Never one to back down before anybody, I asked her out. And to everyone’s amazement, she said yes. Her parents were less than thrilled when we began going out. My mother rolled her eyes and got mad as hell when she found out I was dating the daughter of a woman she considered her enemy. I didn’t pay anyone any mind. I was happy with my new lady.
Monique was really smart, sexy and classy. And she welcomed me into her world. There are quite a few affluent people of African-American descent in the city of Boston, and Monique seemed to know so many of them. Man, I was rubbing elbows with high society and loving it. Thanks to Monique, I met congressmen, judges, lawyers, doctors, philanthropists and other movers and shakers of the world. Monique had this group of young Black women she called her ‘Sister Circle’.
They were really something. Stunning, brilliant and worldly. A group of truly impressive ladies. I met a tall, light-skinned sister named Ariel Robson, daughter of the first Black man elected as the Massachusetts State Senate Treasurer, Arthur Robson. Ariel is taking up business administration at Northeastern University and wants to be a Fortune 500 company’s CEO someday. Regina Jean-Robert, a curvy, Hershey-skinned sister majoring in Criminal Law at Boston University. Her mother, Rachel Jean-Robert is President of Suffolk County Community College. Nathalie Jenkins, a tall and vivacious, short-haired and caramel-skinned sister from New York. Nathalie’s parents are Corporate Accountants or something. She’s studying psychology at Brandeis University. I was amazed by these ladies. Gorgeous bodies, genius-level intelligence, worldliness, charm and wit. They were true Black American Princesses.
Any brother worthy of the name wants some of these ladies. I always saw myself with a sexy, educated Black woman on my arm as I began rising in the world. The kind of sister any man would be proud to call his wife. I simply didn’t expect to meet the cream of the crop. Man, I lucked out! I’ve always wanted to be half of a power couple. And now my dream had come true. Monique was amazing. I fell in love with her. And not just with her. I fell in love with her lavish lifestyle, her family, her friends and everything else. Call it being awestruck, but I genuinely cared about her. I wanted to live in her world. I should have known it wouldn’t work out. Nothing good happens when worlds collide. However, I was young and optimistic. And I was
in love.
I’d like to say we had a whirlwind romance, but we really took our time. Monique has always been the kind of gal who knows what she wants. Her friends and family were surprised to see her with a guy like me but she didn’t care. We were happy together. With her by my side, I felt like I could do anything. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. Sinister forces, in the form of our respective mothers, conspired to tear us apart. Monique’s mother turned her father and whole family against her. My sweetheart found her bank accounts frozen, her car ( a high school graduation gift ) repossessed by her parents. I found myself kicked out of my house by my mother because she couldn’t stand the young woman I wanted to be with. Isn’t life grand?
Thus, Monique and I found ourselves facing some hard times. We got ourselves a small apartment in Boston’s South End, and continued with our lives. At least for a while. In the end, we split. Actually, I left her. Why? Because I loved her. I’m a man, I can take hardship. However, I couldn’t bear to watch the woman I loved suffer. Monique is a Princess in my eyes. I want to be her Prince. However, I’m not wealthy and powerful yet. Someday I will be. Until then, she should be with her own. I don’t consider myself worthy of her yet. So I let her go. She hates me for it, and she doesn’t think I’m shit now. She went back to her family, who welcomed her with open arms now that she was without me.
My own family was not so forgiving. My mother Astrid considered my romance with Monique, my attempt at joining Monique’s family and my fascinating with their lifestyle to be the ultimate betrayal of everything she taught me. She claimed I was dead to her. My father told me one day, my Mom would come around. We were all hot-headed people in the family. I had too much pride to beg for my mother’s forgiveness for loving a woman as wonderful and as unique as Monique. So I left. With me being persona non grata in Boston’s Haitian community, I decided to leave the city. I went to the last place anyone would expect to find me. Toronto, one of Canada’s biggest cities.
Adapting to life in Canada wasn’t easy. There were all these new things I had to get used to. Canada is a lily-white country, and only two of the major cities, Vancouver and Toronto, have some racial diversity. I settled in the Brampton suburb of Toronto, and tried to figure out my next move. I enrolled at the University of Toronto, which transferred my credits from the University of Massachusetts in Boston without too much fuss. I had to get a work permit and a study permit first, of course.
That’s just the way things work in Canada, even if you’re a United States citizen. I work as a Security Guard during the day and take afternoon and evening classes. It’s not easy but it’s a living. When I get my degree, I will return to the U.S. Maybe someday I will meet another B.A.P. like Monique. No, nobody is like Monique. She’s the love of my life. My Princess. I wanted to be her Prince Charming. I tried so hard, and wanted to be with her so much. In the end, I ended up alone. Chuck it up to a learning experience. Next time, I won’t make the same mistake. I’ll make entirely new ones.
Kaidence
- 24.04.2021
- 155
- 0
