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What makes someone dominant and what makes someone submissive? That’s what I’m exploring in this here story. The name is Natasha Tremblay, and I’m a young biracial woman living in the City of Toronto, province of Ontario. I was born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, to a French Canadian father and Haitian immigrant mother. My parents, Neil Tremblay and Jeannine Fleur were never married. I am just the result of a fling, I guess. My mother died during my birth, and I was raised primarily by my father’s side of the family. My father married a lady named Jasmine Yamamoto, and had a son with her, my half-brother George. I grew up in a blended, interracial family, to say the least. Growing up in such a family wasn’t easy, even in the racially diverse metropolis where I was born.
I grew up to be a five-foot-eleven, curvy beauty with light brown skin, long curly black hair and light brown eyes. A lot of mixed people in North America are considered whitewashed when they embrace the non-minority side of their heritage, and that’s a shame. I am half black and half white, and I am proud of both. The fact that I mostly dated white guys in high school and university had more to do with circumstances than anything else. I’m not ashamed of my black side and I’m not whitewashed. I grew up in a mostly white neighborhood, and there weren’t a lot of blacks around at the private school I attended either. My first serious boyfriend, Thomas Wilson, was a six-foot-tall, red-haired and green-eyed Caucasian guy of English descent. He treated me really nice, and we had a great time together. After high school, he went to study at McMaster University in the City of Hamilton, Ontario, and I opted for McGill University right here in Montreal. McGill University is arguably the best school in Canada, and I was lucky to get accepted there.
I studied business administration at McGill University, graduating with my bachelor’s degree in 2008. I stayed for my MBA, which I earned in 2011. I really wanted to find a job in my hometown but there were no jobs in Montreal. I ended up moving to the City of Toronto, because that’s where the jobs were. In Toronto, I reunited with my former boyfriend Tommy, and he was doing pretty good. He’d gotten a degree in economics from McMaster University and was working as an account manager at the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce. Not exactly what he wanted to do after graduation but we do what we can to pay the bills, eh? I was happy to see Tommy, and we had dinner together to catch up. Alright, we did more than dinner.
We went back to my place and he fucked my brains out. I did miss Tommy, he had a big dick and he definitely knew his way around the female body. We fucked and sucked the night away, and when morning came, I woke up next to him. Just like old times. Well, that’s what I thought, until Tommy dropped a bomb on me. Tommy told me that he was engaged to some blonde-haired white chick named Heather Carlton and he was getting married in a couple of months. When Tommy shared this with me, I laughed because I thought it was a joke. Tommy stared at me. He was dead serious. I tossed my stiletto heel at him, ordering him to get the fuck out of my house if he knew what was good for him. And that was how my first week in the City of Toronto went, ladies and gentlemen.
Looking back, I can’t believe how naïve I must have been to welcome Tommy back into my life and my bed like that. As much as I hate to admit it, I can’t let him take the blame for the whole thing. Yes, he’s a dishonest bastard but it was my fault for putting myself in this damn position. I should’ve asked a few questions before jumping into bed with Tommy. I mean, I hadn’t seen him in years. I should have known he’d have a woman. He’s a good-looking, educated guy with a good job. Guys like that don’t stay single for long unless they want to. Tommy can go fuck himself. I decided to move on with my life. I looked for work, and finally, I got a job working for the Royal Bank of Canada. The company that competes with CIBC, Tommy’s employers. Got to love the irony. The downtown Toronto branch of the Royal Bank of Canada was very close to the central branch of the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce, where Tommy worked. Life is funny like that.
I was making decent money as a bank teller. I mean, I’ve got an MBA and I’m kind of overqualified for this job but in Ontario, if you’re a recent university graduate and you’re working in your field, or something close to it, you should count yourself lucky. Most of your former classmates are working at Tim Horton’s after graduation because they can’t find work in their fields. It’s a hard truth that Canadian university and college graduates have to live with, ladies and gentlemen. I decided to enjoy myself in the City of Toronto. It’s arguably the most exciting town in all of Canada, although as a Montreal native, I’d beg to differ. In Toronto, I hit the club scene with a vengeance. I met a lot of sexy guys and had fun with them. I went for guys who were canlı bahis the exact opposite of what I normally went for. For a while I dated a Mexican-born construction worker named Enrique Suarez, who neglected to tell me that he had a wife named Maria in Cancun and a son, Little Hector. Men can be such dogs, seriously! I decided that fun with no strings attached was the way to go. If men could do it, us women could not only do it, we could definitely do it better.
Somehow, I got into the fetish scene in Toronto. I found myself fascinated by the BDSM lifestyle. There was so much fun to be had in BDSM circles. I enjoyed watching the scenes at play parties, which I often got invited to. Female dominants spanking their male submissive types in front of an audience. Gay leather daddies fucking their bound male slaves while women watched and cheered. Lesbian couples that fucked each other silly in front of enthusiastic audiences. Oh, yeah. The BDSM world was full of wonderful, kinky fun. It didn’t matter what you were into, odds are there were others like you out there. You just had to find them. It’s in that world that I met someone who would prove to be very special to me.
I met Adrian Joseph Sinclair at a BDSM party in the Mississauga suburb of Toronto. There were about twenty five people at the party. I thought I’d be the only person of African descent, as usual. I’ve seen Asians and Hispanics in the mostly white BDSM parties but I’ve never seen a Black person. Hmm. Well, at that party, I saw a Black male BDSM performer in the flesh for the first time. I was invited to watch a forced bisexual scene. A tall, sexy and leather-clad blonde-haired white lady who introduced herself as Mistress Sandra Lindberg was fulfilling the fantasy of her portly, hairy husband/sub Larry. The sub was tied to a table, and was busy sucking on the Mistress strap-on dildo.
Everyone watched as a third party, a tall, muscular and masked Black male, made his entrance. The party host introduced himself as Master Darkling. The Black Master walked over to the blonde mistress and her sub. He took out his long and thick black cock, and the mistress ordered the sub to kneel before the Black Master and suck him off. Larry eagerly sucked Master Darkling’s cock, then happily bent over to get fucked in the ass. Watching a Black man sodomizing a white guy while a blonde-haired white lady ( and a crowd of BDSM fanatics ) cheered him on was very hot. Seriously, my pussy got wet. The Black stud was really strong-looking, and he broke the white male slave easily by sodomizing him. The scene lasted about thirty minutes, then the next one began. The Black male dominant was congratulated on his performance by his admirers, and one chubby red-haired white lady showed her appreciation for his work by sucking him off, right in front of everybody. I couldn’t believe these people!
I couldn’t take my eyes off the Black stud, and I went over to introduce myself. He seemed surprised to see me, but he smiled and was very pleasant. I told him that I liked his performance, and asked him what got him into the lifestyle. Master Darkling told me he came from the Caribbean and had a very conservative Christian background, but he’d always been naughty. I laughed and told him I felt the same way. We were talking and having a good time, and I wanted to know more about him. At these parties, people play together but they don’t really reveal much of themselves. The BDSM scene is full of married professionals, that’s why. Nevertheless, I was interested in Master Darkling and made no bones about it. I wanted some of that black dick, to tell you the truth.
Master Darkling and I discreetly went to another room of the house and had ourselves a good time. Hey, sometimes a chick just gets horny. Besides, even though I’m mixed, I had never been with a black guy. I wanted to know if what they say about them was true. Master Darkling satisfied my curiosity, to say the least. The tall dark-skinned stud laid me down on a bed, and licked me from my head to my toes like a human lollipop. He spread my thighs and gave my pussy a good licking, causing me to shudder in delight. I squealed as he thrust his fingers into my cunt while teasing my clitoris with his tongue. Orgasmic, I cried for joy. Master Darkling laughed and told me I hadn’t felt anything yet. I wanted him to fuck me, but he told me he wanted to try something else first. I was all for it.
Master Darkling put me on all fours, and caressed my ass. I’ve often been told that I had a nice ass, but the way Master Darkling worshipped my booty pleased me greatly. He kissed it, fondled it and smacked it. I told him I liked having my ass spanked and he obliged me by bending me over his knee and giving my ass a good spanking. At first he spanked me with his bare hands, then he used his belt. I yelped as the deliciously hot pain in my ass increased. After spanking my ass real good, Master Darkling began fucking me. He rolled on a condom, then eased his cock into my pussy. bahis siteleri I lay on my back, my legs in the air, gazing at this tall, dark and handsome Black man as he began fucking me. He had a very serious expression on his handsome face as he fucked me. At the initial entry of his dick into my pussy, I gasped. I’m in my mid-twenties, half black and half white, and this is my first time having sex with another person of African descent. As Master Darkling began pounding away at my cunt, sending shockwaves of pleasure and delicious pain deep inside of me, I remembered wondering why I denied myself such pleasure for so long.
Master Darkling asked me how I felt as he fucked me, and I urged him to fuck me harder. Hard and fast he drilled his cock into me, filling my pussy completely. I just lay there and took it, jaw slack, my hair disheveled, my eyes glazed over as I got fucked by a Black man for the first time. Now I knew what my white female friends were always talking about, what I should have experienced a long time ago as a woman of color, but hadn’t, because of both unconscious choice and circumstance. As Master Darkling fucked me, I experienced what I had heard so many talk about, especially in BDSM circles. The moment of abject surrender. I wrapped my arms around my sexy stud, and told him to do with me as he would. Master Darkling laughed, and hammered my pussy with powerful thrusts, until I cried out in sheer orgasmic pleasure for the second time that night.
I’m not sure for how long Master Darkling and I fucked, but afterwards, he just held me. I normally don’t like to be held after sex, I’m not the cuddle type of chick, but being held by him felt nice. I looked at him, and asked him how many such parties he’d been to. Master Darkling smiled and didn’t answer. Instead, he took off his mask, revealing a very handsome face. He kind of reminded me of that Black actor from that old television show, The Famous Jett Jackson. Master Darkling took my hand in his and kissed it, then he answered my question. In a very calm and clear voice, he told me that he’d been to many BDSM events since he entered the lifestyle five years ago, but he had never met anyone like me there. I smiled, gushing at his words. I nodded, and thanked him.
An hour later, everyone was leaving the Lindberg residence, including myself. I drove home with a smile on my face. I just fucked and sucked a seriously sexy Black guy, and I didn’t even know his real name. I’m such a slut, but you know what? I don’t care. I went to work the next day as if nothing had happened. While on my break, I stepped outside to have a smoke, and saw a very familiar silhouette walking toward the nearby Tim Horton’s. A tall, muscular Black man clad in military fatigues. I almost dropped my cigarette when I realized that I recognized him. It was the guy from the party last night! He noticed me looking at him, and smiled. He kind of waved, and I hesitantly waved back. I took two steps toward him, then stopped. What happens at BDSM parties is supposed to stay there. I didn’t know anything about this guy, other than he’s bisexual and into kinky stuff. He could be married to some woman, or have a boyfriend on the side, I just didn’t know.
Still, for some reason, I felt drawn to him. Master Darkling walked up to me in his military uniform, and smiled. I grinned and shook his hand. He introduced himself as Adrian Joseph Sinclair, Haitian-born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. I told him my name, pointed at the bank and told him that I worked there. He grinned and asked me to have coffee with him. I hesitated, then shrugged. What the hell, cute is cute. I walked into the crowded Tim Horton’s, and over coffee and buttered sesame bagels, I got to know Adrian Joseph Sinclair. He was born in Cap-Haitien, somewhere in northern Haiti, and he moved to Canada with his family shortly after starting high school. He joined the Canadian Armed Forces at the age of eighteen as a way to pay for his studies at the University of Montreal, from which he graduated two years ago with his bachelor’s degree in Criminology. He was serving Canada as a soldier right now, but aspired to become a police officer someday. Wow.
I looked at Adrian, grinning. The guy was something else. University graduate, career military man and aspiring police officer. Oh, and he was also a switch-hitter who performed at BDSM parties. Imagine that. He had quite the life. Adrian finished his coffee, then asked me about me. I was hesitant about revealing myself, which is normal for me since Tommy, then figured these were entirely different circumstances. Adrian struck me as the brutally honest type. Not the kind to spring nasty surprises on a woman out of the blue, though you never know with some men. I told him about my life in Toronto, how much I missed my friends and family back in Montreal, and my aspiration of one day becoming a corporate shark. Adrian smiled, and told me I definitely had what it took. I smiled coyly and asked him why he felt so sure of bahis şirketleri my abilities, since we just met. Adrian grinned and told me I seemed fearless to him, and all leaders needed that trait. I couldn’t help but smile some more, that was a very good answer he gave me, don’t you think?
Thus Adrian and I officially met. He told me that he wanted us to be friends, if anything. I was okay with that, and we exchanged numbers. I definitely wanted to get close to that sexy body of his again. I thought he’d be entertaining company and at the very least a good roll in the hay. I didn’t imagine that we’d start seeing each other, or that I’d catch feelings for him. He wasn’t what I expected at all. He was smart, well-spoken and very respectful. He was honest about his bisexuality and his penchant for BDSM. And he told me from the get-go that he didn’t have a wife or brats, and he wasn’t looking for anything serious. I told him I felt the same way. No hubby, no brats, and no attachments. Adrian and I began hanging out, going to movies and museums and restaurants together, and I really enjoyed his company. He introduced me to some of his friends from his church, who had no idea about his lifestyle. I’m delighted to say that a bisexual black man took my mixed-race and racially unconscious ass to my first black church. I was moved by how friendly and welcoming they were. I told Adrian that I wanted to come back sometime, and he told me that I was always welcome.
I was enjoying myself with Adrian, a man who thrilled me in and out of the bedroom. He’d been to so many places with the Canadian Armed Forces, from Kandahar in Afghanistan to the capital region of Yemen, and even to France and Great Britain. Canadian soldiers traveled a lot and saw a lot of action these days. Adrian wasn’t just a great-looking guy with a big dick. He was smart, well-read, well-traveled and cultured. I liked being with him, and I’d like to think we’re starting to mean something to each other, even though neither of us defined what was going on between us. When I talked to my dad on the phone and he asked me how I was doing, I told him that I had someone decent in my life. I didn’t label what Adrian and I had, but whatever it was, it kind of mattered to me.
Our relationship, for lack of a better term, changed unexpectedly one day. I was in a restaurant in Brampton with Adrian, and he excused himself to go to the bathroom. While I browsed over the menu, I was interrupted by the last person I expected to see. It was Tommy, sporting a beard, and looking a bit haggard. Seeing him caused my heart to beat faster, and I asked him what he was doing inside the restaurant. Without even asking me if he could sit down, or inquiring who I was with ( I was at a table for two ), Tommy sat down, with the same sense of entitlement I’ve always known him to have. He told me that he’d lost his job with CIBC and his engagement with Heather Carlson was off. He grabbed my hand and told me that he’d made a mistake, and that Heather was only with him for his money. I took a long, hard look at him. Tommy was my first love, and a part of me would always remember him. However, he hurt me like no man ever has before or since.
As a flood of emotions rushed through me, Adrian came back from the washroom. He saw Tommy in his seat, and loudly cleared his throat. Tommy looked at Adrian and arrogantly asked him if he could help him. Adrian fixed Tommy with a cold stare, and told him he was in his seat. I looked from Adrian to Tommy, then back to Adrian. I locked eyes with Tommy, and told him to leave. Tommy glared at me, looked at Adrian and shook his head in disbelief, then asked me if I was into Black guys now. The nerve on him! I looked at Adrian, who looked questioningly at me, then at Tommy. I got up, and told Tommy to leave my table if he knew what was good for him. Tommy got up at last, shot me as disbelieving look as Adrian got in his face, then he raised his hands in surrender and walked out of the restaurant. Adrian looked at me, and asked me what that was all about. I looked at him, and told him that Tommy was my past. Adrian crossed his arms, then asked me what he was to me.
I looked at Adrian and swallowed hard. This was the moment I had been dreading for ages. The moment had come for me to put up or shut up. Shit or get off the pot. Time to define our relationship, or lack thereof. I took a deep breath, then told Adrian that he was my future. As Adrian looked at me, I stood on my tippy toes and planted a kiss on his succulent-looking lips. It was my first time kissing him, actually. We’d been fooling around for months, fucking every which way and going to restaurants, movies and other fun places together, but we had never kissed. There was a barrier between us, and I had just crossed it. Adrian grabbed my shoulders, and pulled away from me. I looked at him, and asked him if he cared for me. Adrian looked at me, smiled, and told me he’d been into me for ages. I smiled, glad to hear that he felt the same way. This time, he kissed me full and deep. In this neat little restaurant in Brampton, we shared the first of countless kisses. I think I finally found a guy can keep up with me, in the weirdest of all possible places. How about that?
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