Haitian Bisexuality Ch. 02


The sun rose over the city of Boston, waking up everyone’s favorite chocolate-skinned, pretty-faced urban charmer. The name is Alphonse Bertrand and I’ll be your storyteller for the day. The following story takes place during a rainy day of Spring Break 2008. I am taking some well-deserved time off from the school. Oh, only about a week. But what a week…for it’s Spring Break! I need to clear my head, you know. A lot of shit has been happening lately and it’s starting to get to a brother.

I am a student of the Boston Military Institute, a small private school located on the Boston Harbor. Not far from UMass Boston, whose library we share. The school has four thousand students, and focuses on preparing them for service in the United States armed forces. The Boston Military Institute is quite unique in that it’s one of the few all-male colleges left in the United States of America. In the 1960s, a lot of previously all-male schools went coed. The Boston Military Institute or BMI didn’t. We’re a modern-day boys club and proud to be, even into the twenty first century. The student body is all-male, though we have both male and female professors. I wish there were more all-male schools in America. Especially in an age where male students are now the minorities on college and university campuses across the country. Something has got to be done to change this alarming national trend. Fortunately, BMI appeared to be doing it by focusing on male education.

One thing BMI is particularly famous for is varsity athletics. The Boston Military Institute Department of Athletics sponsors Men’s Intercollegiate Alpine Skiing, Baseball, Basketball, Football, Cross Country, Swimming, Soccer, Gymnastics, Volleyball, Rifle, Ice Hockey, Wrestling, Track & Field, Rugby, Rowing, Sailing, Golf, Tennis and Lacrosse. Over thirty percent of all students participate in one varsity sport or another. Our collective sports teams, known as the Troopers, compete in the NCAA Division Three. I’m the starting quarterback of the Football team. We’ve had a good season, recently taking down Bridgewater State College and Worcester State to capture the D-III Title. We showed the New England Football Conference we were a force to be reckoned with. Once and for all.

Yeah, I was attending a kick-ass school and playing college football. The Head Football Coach said I might even make it to the NFL Draft this year. It was supposed to be the time of my life. Unfortunately, things weren’t going so well. At the beginning of the semester, I met someone who changed my life forever. James Ferdinand, the interim Dean of the Criminal Justice Department at the Boston Military Institute. A six-foot-tall, big and muscular, jet-black, long-haired stud who looked so good in a business suit, it ought to be illegal. This stud hailed from Atlanta and was an alumnus of BMI, where he did his undergraduate work, over a decade ago. The man looked good enough to eat. He taught only one class, Beginning Forensics. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, so I signed up for his class. He was so fine, and also bright and articulate. And he was single. Imagine how I felt when he finally noticed me. Yeah, the finest man on the faculty was giving me the look. What’s the look? All men and women who are gay or bisexual have an innate ability to spot their own kind. Some call it gaydar. I call it the special Awareness. The professor asked me to come by his office later to discuss my work, and I eagerly accepted. I showed up at his office alright, right after football practice.

Once I was inside, he closed the door and we didn’t do a lot of talking. The professor grabbed me and kissed me, then next thing I know, he gaziantep bayan escort had me ass up on his oak desk. He stroked my dick. I was hard as hell and damn proud of that, too. I’m about eight and a half inches long and somewhat thick. Also, I’m uncut. My parents didn’t let the doctors butcher me for obscure religious reasons. Some of my lovers found this intriguing, but most didn’t care. The professor and I stroked then sucked each other’s cocks. Then, he put on a condom and took me. I grunted as he worked his nine inches into me. The man knew how to fuck. Gripping my hips, he began to give my ass the pounding of the century. Hard and fast, he slammed his dick into me. His cock was stretching my backdoor to previously unimaginable girths, and I was loving every moment of it. I screamed passionately as this man’s magic stick took me to heaven and back. Yeah, we hooked up that day and it was fun. And this was only the beginning. For three months, professor James Ferdinand and I had our affair. I was going out with a fine girl named Mary Shane from UMass Boston at the time. A five-foot-ten, blonde-haired, green-eyed Irishwoman built like an Olympic athlete, Mary Shane was every man’s dream girl. Except that I was a man with very different dreams. We had been together for sixteen months. She was alright but didn’t light my fire the way professor James Ferdinand did. I soon dumped her and focused all my lust and attention on him. We had our fun for two months, then one day out of the blue he ditched me. Just like that. I was hurt, to tell you the truth. Serves me right for thinking with my dick rather than my brain. I put the professor and his heavenly body out of mind by focusing on going to class and playing football. To ease the pain of getting dumped, I scratched the words CLOSET CASE in bold letters on his precious red Hummer.

If only that had been it, as far as my troubles were concerned. But there was much more to come, unfortunately. I found out that my parents, Olivier and Jeannette Bertrand of Providence, Rhode Island, were getting a divorce. This caught me by surprise, to tell you the truth. I thought my parents had a rock solid marriage. Then again, most people are surprised when things like that happen to their families. So many African-American and Haitian couples are splitting left and right. What’s up with that? Oh, well. I decided to chill in Boston for a couple of days. I only had about five hundred bucks in my bank account. The Boston Military Institute doesn’t give out athletic scholarships. And it costs twenty grand a year, plus an additional three thousand if you live in the dormitories, which I did. Hailing from Rhode Island, I couldn’t exactly commute to the Boston Harbor every bloody day. It would cost me a fortune! After paying for this semester’s full tuition, I was basically broke. Thankfully, this was my senior year. Next year, I would be hitting the work force, armed with a bachelor of science degree in Criminal Justice.

Time for this brother to have himself some fun. I tried to beat the stress, but nothing seemed to work. I went to the movies and saw Street Kings. It was pretty good. I can’t wait to see Batman : The Dark Knight and Iron Man. I’m a fan of superhero-themed action movies. They’re the best. Still, I felt lonely in the big city. Most of the guys from BMI were out of town. The majority of them were wealthy young men from prestigious families. I was just a kid from Rhode Island with big dreams. Still, I found a way to end the loneliness and beat the stress. I went to get myself some booty. The curative effect of fine booty on a stressed mind is something most men are familiar with. So, I got dressed in some killer outfit and hit the streets. I wore an Italian red silk shirt, black Denim jeans and black leather boots, all under a black leather sports coat. As I walked through the streets of Boston, I was aware of men and women checking me out. This is really nothing new. At six-foot-two and 220-pounds of hard-bodied black stud, I was not the kind of man who went unnoticed for long.

And surely enough, I did get noticed. By a voluptuous Hispanic MILF. I hooked up with this plump, middle-aged Hispanic woman named Angelica Ramirez inside the women’s bathroom at Copley Mall in downtown Boston. Angelica wasn’t my usual type. She was around fifty, with dark bronze skin, and long black hair streaked with a few gray strands. I’ve got nothing against older women. I’ve heard lots of good things about their decadence in sexual matters. That’s why I gave this five-foot-five, busty, wide-hipped and big-bottomed Hispanic mama a try. And you know what? I didn’t regret it!

Angelica was actually a member of the staff at Copley. I thought she looked real hot in her white shirt, black tie and black pleated pants. Man did this woman have a booty! I would have guessed her booty to measure around fifty inches all around, but I could be wrong. I did get a chance to observe it up close, though. I was sitting alone inside the Food Court, chugging down some fine Chinese food with some coke. I had shrimp-fried rice with orange chicken, two egg rolls and some mandarin chicken. Man, if I didn’t work out extensively every day, with my kind of appetite I probably couldn’t budge. As I ate, I didn’t notice the fine-looking Hispanic woman who stood right in front of me. In her hand she held a tray, and asked if she could join me. I looked her up and down. She was thick, fine and stacked. What do you think I said?

Angelica sat across from me, and introduced herself. I wiped my mouth, and looked at her. Damn, this dame was seriously smoking. With her almond-shaped brown eyes, slightly angular face and pouty red lips, she looked seriously hot. She said she noticed me right across the room and just had to join me for dinner. I smiled. This was a total line but I didn’t mind at all. I was flattered, actually. I was used to both women and men coming onto me. As we talked, it soon became obvious what Angelica wanted of me. To this day, whenever a woman is that sexually forward with me, I am a bit shocked. But I’m never one to look a gift horse on the mouth. I was down for whatever. Angelica and I went to the ladies room. She put the “Closed for Cleaning” sign on it, and we did our thing.

Once inside, the fury with which this woman grabbed me had me stunned. She kissed me passionately, like she hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. She took off her jacket, and I unbuttoned her shirt, noticing with satisfaction that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I grinned, and fondled her tits as we kissed. Angelica went straight for my dick. I gasped as I felt her small yet incredibly strong hands grasping my balls. Okay, there! Be gentle, lady! She ran her hands up and down my dick, and I felt myself lengthening. Hey, it usually doesn’t take much to get me going. Once, I got hard looking at a nude Picasso at the museum during a field trip. Yeah, it’s like that. When Angelica took me into her mouth, I sighed in pleasure. She licked my cock and sucked my balls the way a professional would. I’ve gotten sloppy blowjobs from the young gay or bisexual men and straight girls I hook up with every now and then. Most of them don’t know how to do it right. No, being gay or bisexual doesn’t automatically make a man a great cock sucker. You’ve got to work at it. Same goes for the women who practice this art form. Angelica was so damn good, she could have charged to teach her skills to the oral sex novices out there. She surprised the hell out of me by sticking first one then two fingers up my ass while sucking me off. This wasn’t usually my thing but this time, I didn’t mind. In fact, having her fingers up my ass got my dick even harder. So much that I came shortly after being thoroughly fingered, shooting my cum all over her face. Oops. Contrarily to what you see in porn videos, most women don’t like it when a man comes all over their precious faces. Again Angelica proved to be the exception. Not only did she not mind having me blast my load all over her face, she claimed to like it. Judging by the way she licked every last drop of my cum, I tend to agree.

Afterwards, I put on a condom and we fucked. Right on a toilet seat. I sat on it and Angelica climbed on top of me. Slowly, she lowered herself onto my member. I thrust into her, feeling the heat radiating from her moist pussy right through the condom. As Angelica began riding me, her big tits flopped against my face. I put my hands on her hips and fucked her. She cussed in machine-gun Spanish as I fucked her. As we did our thing, it occurred to me that she was my first Hispanic woman. How about that? I’ve been with Blacks, Whites and Asians, but never a Hispanic person. Since I pride myself on being a proponent of diversity, this was my chance to broaden my horizons. We tried a few other positions. Angelica got on all fours, right on the bathroom floor. I knelt behind her. I grasped her plump butt cheeks, and gently spread them apart. In between curses, she told me to stick my dick up her buns. I blinked. Did I hear right? Apparently so. With a smile on my face, I rubbed my cock against Angelica’s puckered asshole. Gently, I pushed it inside. I’ve fucked my share male and female asses in my time. However, I’ve never heard anyone scream aloud the way Angelica did the moment my dick popped into her booty hole.

Oh, my. This big-booty Hispanic mama was quite the screamer. For a moment, I thought I might have hurt but she urged me to go harder and faster. Thrilled, I did just that. I dug my fingers into the tender flesh of her hips for a better grip, and thrust my cock into her backdoor. Hard and fast, I pushed my dick into her nether regions. I don’t know which one I like best, male ass or female ass. Not that there’s much of a difference. I like my plate of ass to be smooth, hairless and pimple-free. Also, I like it clean. Doesn’t matter to me if the person I’m fucking is male or female. A hole is a hole, as they say. It’s not everyday that I find myself with a partner who loves anal sex as much as I did. So, I took advantage of that. I slammed my dick in and out of Angelica’s ass, fucking her like anal sex was going out of style. The big-booty Hispanic MILF gave as good as she got, cussing nonstop and urging me to tear her ass up. We fucked and sucked until we both came, amazingly within moments of each other. How about that? Man, I think this was the fuck of the century!

A short while later, Angelica and I readjusted our clothes and exited the bathroom. She left the closed sign on, much to the dismay of some old women with shopping bags who thought we were members of the cleaning crew. I smiled from ear to ear as I left the Food Court and headed out, onto the street. I crossed the Bridge, and found myself walking near MIT. Pedestrians talking on their cell phones and bikers sped by me. I walked at a deliberately slow pace, taking in the sight of the gorgeous city in the midday sun. Today is a good day, my friends. A day of firsts. I’ve been hooking up with guys in the men’s room for years. At last, I did it with a woman in the ladies room. And I didn’t get caught! I wonder what I’m going to do tomorrow.

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