Meet The Haitian Goddess Deux
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Meet The Haitian Goddess Trois free porn video
Sitting at the table across from Florence Joseph, Sebastien Renard watched her eat. The big and tall young Haitian-American man smiled wistfully. Things were going pretty good. Here she was, having dinner with him and his grandmother Cecilia. Also present were Florence’s younger brother and granny. Sebastien played the part of the congenial host, loving every moment of it. If only Florence didn’t look so damn uncomfortable. Sebastien found himself oddly perturbed by that. The plan was to get Florence to come over, wow her and then proceed to find some chinks in her armour. All to eventually seduce the Black Amazon of Quartier Morin.
Granny Cecilia talked incessantly about the situation in the Republic of Haiti. She didn’t care for the American soldiers presence in the City of Cap-Haitien, and their inaction during the Cholera Crisis which gripped the island nation in 2011. Sebastien didn’t really listen. He was too busy staring at Florence Joseph. God she was beautiful. So tall and sexy, curvy and gorgeously dark-skinned. With her neatly braided dreadlocks, full lips, round face and sparkling dark eyes, she was the epitome of loveliness to him. Too bad she seemed offended by his mere presence. He nearly sighed. Okay, he’d gaffed when they first met. He wanted to make amends, and get to know her better. Every man makes mistakes. Shouldn’t he get another chance?
Sitting across from Sebastien at the dinner table, Florence slowly picked at her food. Laughing nearby was Granny Cecilia, a wise and wonderful little old lady whom she’d known her entire life. Grandmother to Sebastien Renard, the cocky American punk whom she’d drop-kicked a couple days ago. Seated next to his grandmother, Sebastien looked really good in his ‘churchy’ clothes. And he’d been so polite and friendly since the church incident. The one where he helped her relative, and impressed her family with his kindness and quick reflexes. It was hard for her to believe that this suave and friendly guy was the same bozo who’d gotten on her bad side days ago. The Sebastien who sat across from her was polite and friendly. And he doted on his grandmother with true love in his eyes. Hmmm. Had she been wrong about him?
Perhaps, perhaps not. Florence thought of all the men she’d known in her twenty-odd years living in Quartier Morin, North Haiti. Ever since her parents died, she’d been forced to grow up very fast. Her survival and that of her younger brother depended on it. Her grandmother helped, but there was only so much the old lady could do. Florence grew up fast and hard. She learned to defend herself from the wicked men who simply couldn’t keep their hands off her, years before she should have been on their radar. She became a fighter, and a fearsome one at that. Her father’s old friend Laurence, a former member of Forces Armee D’Haiti ( the Haitian Armed Forces) taught her how to fight. It wasn’t enough that she was tall, and strongly built. It was her skill at hand to hand combat which gave her the edge over most opponents.
Life had been okay for her lately, even though her beloved country was going through a truly tough time. Florence Joseph had finally gotten accepted at L’Universite Roi Henri Christophe, one of the top Universities in the Republic of Haiti. Given her stellar grades, she’d gotten a partial scholarship. Even with the 2010 Haiti Quake and the chaos which gripped much of the country, the men and women who ran the City of Cap-Haitien’s Colleges and Universities were determined to preserve the country’s education system. Institutions of higher education like University of Roi Henri Christophe, University Chretienne Du Nord, the Law School of Cap-Haitien were beefed up. For scores of students from the Quake-damaged Universities in the City of Port-Au-Prince were now flooding to Cap-Haitien and other major cities of Haiti for higher education.
Yep, Florence had been beyond thrilled when she received the letter of admission from University of Roi Henri Christophe in the mail. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes when she thought of how proud her parents would be. For the past two years she’d been working every job she could get her hands on to help pay for school. She offered her services as a paid tutor to students from schools like College Notre Dame Du Perpetuel Secours, College Regina Assumpta, Brothers of Christian Instruction Academy, Sisters of Saint Joseph De Cluny Academy and many others. And when that work dried up, she went back to working in the countryside. Her daddy had raised her to be a tough gal. She didn’t consider riding a donkey to sell coal in the dame streets to be beneath her. Certainly she intended to do more with her life. However, she needed the money to pay for her University education. And there was simply no other way. So you had better believe that whatever work would help her fulfill her goal was done happily.
Yeah, she was no stranger to hardship. Which is why she had no patience for the likes of Sebastien Renard. He looked like he’d been fed with a silver spoon his whole life. His parents were wealthy members of the Haitian Diaspora in Boston, Massachusetts. They had money, and obviously doted on him. In spite of having so many advantages in life, Sebastien had screwed up. That much was clear. Many Haitian families living in places like the United States of America, Canada and even Europe would send their wayward sons to Haiti for some tough love after they screwed up. The Haitians at home called these troublemaking offspring of the Diaspora ‘timoun gate’. A Haitian term meaning spoiled brats. And that’s exactly what Sebastien was, whether he admitted it or not. Florence looked at him through narrowed eyes. She wouldn’t trust this well-dressed clown as far as she could throw him. No matter how sweet his grandmother was. Believe that.
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