Bisexual Black King of Haiti

Amateur

The time is September 1991, and the place is the Republic of Haiti. Panic gripped the Haitian nation, with President Aristide gone, and the Haitian military, led by General Raoul Cedras, taking over. The ancients remember the days of the Duvalier Dictators, Papa Doc and Baby Doc, when tyranny defeated democracy. Young people clamor about the state of the Haitian Nation, and what would become of them under the new regime. Difficult times awaited the world’s first independent black republic, that’s for damned sure…

The sun rose over the Bel-Air suburb of metropolitan Cap-Haitien, in Northern Haiti. Jean-Marc Maurice got up, and sat on his bed. He’d awakened at the crack of dawn, jolted from sleep by the damned roosters of Monsieur Leonard, the old man who lived in a walled estate not far from his home. The old buzzard kept to himself and raised chicks, and the people of Bel-Air’s Loge neighborhood considered him something of a recluse. Jean-Marc considered Monsieur Leonard to be something of an eccentric.

Jean-Marc waited for his parents to depart, and then got up. The two-story, four-bedroom, red and white house that Jean-Marc has called home for most of his life was already bustling with activity. Helene the maid was busy cooking and cleaning. Jean-Marc was fond of the middle-aged lady from the country town of Trou Du Nord who had been with the family for ages. Helene was practically family at this point.

Jean-Marc’s father, the esteemed Maitre Ronald Maurice, had gone to teach Mathematics at College Notre Dame Du Perpetuel Secours, an all-male Catholic school which sat on a hill overlooking downtown Cap-Haitien. As for Jean-Marc’s mother, Astrid Maurice, she’d gone to teach at Soeurs Saint Joseph De Cluny, an all-female Catholic school located down the street from Notre Dame. Since Jean-Marc didn’t have classes that day at Universite Roi Henri Christophe, he had the day to himself.

Jean-Marc went downstairs, and found his father’s copy of the Haiti Progress Newspaper. The young man yawned as he read an expose of how the Haitian military sucked and how it took the intervention of American and French diplomats to allow President Aristide to escape. Jean-Marc didn’t give a damn about politics, and at the age of nineteen, he could be considered something of a hedonist. Once Jean-Marc turned twenty one, he would inherit the land of Bois D’Eau, a large farm which his grandfather Alphonse Maurice left him. It would be easy street once that happened…

“Bonjour Luki,” Jean-Marc said as he patted his large brown dog on the head. The young man went about preparing breakfast, which consisted of buttered bread, eggs, and a steaming pot of overly sugared coffee, prepared in the Haitian style. Jean-Marc tossed Luki some pieces of meat from last night’s leftover turkey stew. He made a mental note to buy some goat meat, the dog’s favorite, when he went to the Marche downtown later today.

After eating breakfast, Jean-Marc went to the walled courtyard, drew water from the well and took a shower. He brushed his teeth, and then walked back inside. The Loge, an overcrowded neighborhood located at the heart of Bel-Air, is Jean-Marc’s world. He was born and raised there, and everyone knows him. Jean-Marc left the house after giving Luki some meat strips and a bowl of water to drink. The choking heat gripped the city and it would be cruel to leave the doggo without water. Jean-Marc doesn’t like people but he loves his dog…

Jean-Marc walked down the streets of Bel-Air, and took the winding road past Junie’s Store, and past the old estates. He walked along the rocky road leading past the Stadium where the local soccer teams, Association Sportive Capoise and FICA played their games while the entire city watched. Jean-Marc made his way to Second Street or Rue Deux, and walked into Les Freres Laveaux Barbershop. Even this early, there were some old cats hanging around, the kind of fellas with nothing to do…

“Bonjour Maitre Numa,” Jean-Marc said to his favorite barber, a tall, dark-skinned, mustachioed man who always wore sunglasses, even indoors. Maitre Numa smiled at Jean-Marc and shook his hand. None of this brother-man hug or exchanging dap stuff for an old-school player like Maitre Numa. He was an old soldier who became a barber and didn’t care for most young Haitian men’s love affair with African American culture and music. Thanks but no thanks…

“Sak pase neg etimesgut bayan escortlar pa mwen? What’s up my friend?” Maitre Numa asked as Jean-Marc sat down and waited his turn. Jean-Marc shrugged and regaled the older man with tales of his latest adventures. Last month, Jean-Marc went to a night club in the Carre Nage neighborhood by the sea, and got to watch the hit band Septentrional in action. Good times, to be sure. Jean-Marc did the bump and grind with his lady of the day, Therese Beaudoin, a tall, sexy gal from the Artibonite region.

“The usual, sir,” Jean-Marc said, and he picked up another newspaper, Le Nouvelliste, and as expected, it was filled with nothing but political crap. Jean-Marc didn’t care for politics. The young man remembered the elation that filled the Haitian populace following the election of President Aristide, whom they thought of as an honest man because he’d once been a priest. President Aristide was supposed to fix the country and make the Haitian people forget the horrors they endured during the Duvalier decades. As if the man was some kind of miracle worker!

Jean-Marc found an article on the Caribbean Football Union, and smiled as he read about Haitian football players chances against their regional rivals, the Cubans, Jamaicans and Dominicans. Jean-Marc was halfway through the article when he sensed someone looking at him. Looking up, Jean-Marc found himself looking at a vision of masculine beauty. Pierre Jacques stood a short distance away, talking with a lady that Jean-Marc didn’t know.

“What’s up compere?” Pierre Jacques said cheerfully, and Jean-Marc nodded and grumbled a reply before going back to his newspaper. Pierre Jacques seemed to have his hands full with the lady, a tall, light-skinned beauty with short dark hair and a big butt, wearing a green and white sundress. Pierre Jacques kissed the lady on the lips and patted her on the derriere before sending her on her way. The young man then turned his attention to Maitre Numa, who was cutting some old man’s hair.

“Pierre, you got the money?” Maitre Numa asked, and Pierre Jacques grinned and took twenty five Gourdes out of his wallet and forked them over. Maitre Numa pocketed the money and nodded. Pierre Jacques grinned and headed for the door. Jean-Marc was doing his best to focus on the newspaper and ignore a certain someone, but Pierre Jacques simply had to holler before he left the premises. Some bozos simply never learn…

“Jean-Marc, we should chill again sometime, later, my dude,” Pierre Jacques hollered before leaving Les Freres Laveaux Barber Shop. Jean-Pierre sighed and continued reading the newspaper. There was an article on the new Jean Claude Van Damme movie Double Impact. Jean-Marc, a long time fan of the Belgian actor, liked all of his movies. Jean-Marc’s father Ronald Maurice preferred Chuck Norris and Wesley Snipes as far as action movie heroes went. Nobody beats Van Damme when it comes to kicking ass and taking names, as far as Jean-Marc is concerned…

Jean-Marc’s turn came, and Maitre Numa summoned him to the chair. Typically, the two men would banter while Jean-Marc got his haircut, but not this time. Jean-Marc kept thinking about Pierre Jacques, the dude who had been his best buddy since their halcyon days at College Notre Dame Du Perpetuel Secours. Pierre Jacques, the son of Cap-Haitien Municipal Police Chief Augustin Jacques, carried himself like a black prince and the ladies couldn’t get enough of him. Well, sometimes, just sometimes, Jean-Marc is partial to Pierre Jacques too…

“Mon ami, I love women, but sometimes I like some manly fun, no big deal,” Pierre Jacques to Jean-Marc after their last sexual encounter. Jean-Marc had taken the bus from Cap-Haitien to the town of Fort Saint Michel, to chill at Pierre Jacques’s villa. Once there, the two young men had themselves a good time, drinking Prestige Beer and talking about what life was actually like after their school days ended. Just two fellas chilling…for the most part.

“It’s all good,” Jean-Marc said, and the tall, strongly built, dark-skinned young man smiled as his buddy Pierre Jacques joined him on the couch. Pierre grabbed Jean-Marc and kissed him, and then the two of them began making out. Jean-Marc slipped out of his clothes, revealing his buff, manly body. Pierre Jacques, tall and athletic, tossed aside his clothes, and embraced Jean-Marc etimesgut seksi escortlar passionately. Grabbing a Kapot Pante condom and lubricant, Pierre Jacques made good use of them…

“Come here handsome,” Pierre Jacques said to Jean-Marc as they continued with their fun. Jean-Marc sat Pierre Jacques on the couch, and knelt before him. As Pierre Jacques looked on, Jean-Marc grabbed his long and thick dark dick and began sucking him off. Pierre Jacques sighed happily as Jean-Marc sucked his dick and massaged his balls while fellating him. Jean-Marc is quite skilled at oral sex, fingering Pierre Jacques ass while sucking him off. After getting Pierre Jacques hard as a rock, Jean-Marc fucked the hell out of him…

“Oh yeah, fuck me,” Pierre Jacques groaned as Jean-Marc took him, face down and ass up, right there in his family living room. Jean-Marc gripped Pierre Jacques by the hips and thrust his hard dick into his ass. Pierre Jacques moaned deeply as Jean-Marc fucked the hell out of him. As much as Pierre Jacques loves the ladies, he can’t get enough of Jean-Marc and that magical dick of his. Jean-Marc rammed his dick up Pierre Jacques’s ass like there was no tomorrow, and didn’t let up. Yup, the Haitian brother from Bel-Air had the dick of death…

“Hmm, your ass is sweet,” Jean-Marc told Pierre Jacques after pulling out of him. The two young black men lay side by side on the carpet, sweaty, reeking of sex but feeling very much alive. They talked about life, school, women, sports and all the usual stuff. Pierre Jacques couldn’t stop talking about Marianne Dupuis, the light-skinned chick whom he was dating. Pierre Jacques tends to bring up women a lot after having sex with Jean-Marc. Ah, the messy realities of the bisexual black man’s life…

“Marianne is special to me, Jean-Marc, and I like you but I want this to stop,” Pierre Jacques said firmly. Jean-Marc looked at his best friend and shook his head. They’d had these talks before. Jean-Marc is bisexual, and although he is very private about it, he is okay with it. Pierre Jacques is bisexual as well, but still considers himself ‘mostly straight’ and usually feels really guilty after having sex with Jean-Marc, the only man he’d been with.

“It’s all good, mon ami, we will always be friends, and I respect your wishes,” Jean-Marc said, and Pierre Jacques sighed in relief. The two young men took a shower, and then Jean-Marc took the bus from Fort Saint Michel back to metropolitan Cap Haitien. Jean-Marc thought long and hard about what Pierre Jacques said. Jean-Marc had never been with another man, and Pierre Jacques was all that he knew. Jean-Marc enjoys sex with women, but there are some moments when he simply craves Pierre Jacques’s body. What’s he going to do now that he’s all alone?

Jean-Marc was forlorn over the demise of his liaison with Pierre Jacques, and decided to focus on his routine. Jean-Marc’s classes at Universite Roi Henri Christophe were tough, but since he wanted to become a city magistrate, there was no other way. While attending the historic small campus located near the Place Rue Dix Huit close to the Cathedrale Notre Dame De L’Assomption, Jean-Marc met a remarkable lady, Therese Beaudoin…

“If you keep gawking at my ass, I will slap you,” Therese Beaudoin said to Jean-Marc the day they met, inside the campus library. Jean-Marc looked at the tall, curvy, brown-skinned young woman with the enchanting smile and thick ass. There is an old adage among black men that women with good pussy are usually a bit full of themselves. Jean-Marc looked Therese Beaudoin up and down, smirked confidently, and nodded at her.

“Sorry if I offended you mademoiselle, I am Jean, your future husband,” Jean-Marc said with a grin. Therese Beaudoin looked at him, astonished by his cockiness. The young woman walked away in a huff, giving Jean-Marc a great visual to work with as he admired her ass. Jean-Marc loves a nice ass, and doesn’t care if it’s attached to a female or a man. The Haitian stud decided to get Therese Beaudoin in his bed, and that is that…

Over the next few weeks, by accident or by design, Jean-Marc would often bump into Therese Beaudoin. He approached her and introduced himself again. Thus, Jean-Marc learned that Therese was a newcomer to Cap-Haitien by way of a small town in the Artibonite region. Hmm, those country girls tend to have sassy attitudes and bayan sincan escort big butts. Jean-Marc pursued Therese until she agreed to go out with him. For their first date, they went to Refuge Cinema and watched House Party 2, which Therese liked better than Double Impact, starring Jean Claude Van Damme and some other people…

“You are one persistent man,” Therese said to Jean-Marc as they walked around Bel-Air after exiting the movie theater. Jean-Marc smiled at Therese, who reminded him of Nia Long, whom he liked after watching her in Boyz In The Hood. Therese was smart, pretty, and kind of nice once a fella got her to lower her defenses a bit. Jean-Marc is a man of many passions but he can never ignore a beautiful woman. Therese had a lot going on for her…

“I like strong women,” Jean-Marc said, and he grabbed Therese’s hand and brought it to his lips. Therese grinned, a bit surprised by the gesture. The two of them continued to banter while walking. As far as first dates went, this one was alright. Jean-Marc escorted Therese to her residence in Rue Huit, close to the Etat Civil Section Nord Office. They parted ways with a hug and a peck on the cheek. Not bad, considered how they butted heads when they met…

Therese Beaudoin was charmed by Jean-Marc, but she made him wait six weeks before getting into bed with him. The night Therese invited Jean-Marc to her place, a sexual cyclone was unleashed. They wanted each other badly, and it was a long time coming. Jean-Marc kissed Therese passionately and pulled her into his arms. They slipped out of their clothes and began exploring one another. With passion as their guiding light, they satisfied needs long repressed…

“You’re unlike any man I’ve ever known,” Therese said as Jean-Marc laid her on the bed, stark naked. Jean-Marc grinned as he basked in Therese’s natural beauty. With her big tits, curvy but firm body, thick thighs and big butt, she was a fine specimen of black womanhood. Jean-Marc kissed Therese’s lips and caressed her breasts, sucking on them before sliding his hand between her thick thighs. Therese sighed as Jean-Marc began fingering her pussy as he sucked on her tits. Closing her eyes, Therese relaxed and enjoyed…

“You taste wonderful,” Jean-Marc told Therese, and he ate her pussy like a hungry man. Afterwards, he put Therese on all fours and admired her big round ass. Jean-Marc playfully smacked Therese’s ass and put on a condom. Therese, on all fours, shot Jean-Marc a look. Grinning, Jean-Marc eased his hard dick into Therese’s pussy and began fucking her from behind. The young Haitian woman screamed passionately as her new lover fucked the hell out of her. Little did Therese know, Jean-Marc was just getting started…

“Hmm, pete pou mwen, ba mwen bwa, fuck me, give me that dick,” Therese screamed as Jean-Marc fucked her. He lay flat on the bed and she straddled him. Jean-Marc caressed Therese’s tits with one hand and smacked her big round ass with the other. The two young Haitians fucked and sucked the night away. That night, Jean-Marc surprised himself by spending the night at Therese’s place. He actually cared about this gal, and wanted to be with her…

“Neg pa mwen, sak pase ou? My man, what’s up?” Maitre Numa asked in his deep voice, snatching Jean-Marc out of his little trip down memory lane. The young Haitian man blinked in surprise. Slowly, he came back into himself and realized where he was. Jean-Marc chastised himself for daydreaming about Therese Beaudoin and Pierre Jacques, the two people he loved the most. Ah, the daily reality of a bisexual black man’s life…

“La vi pa fasil, met la, life is not easy, sir,” Jean-Marc replied, and Maitre Numa smiled and finished the haircut. Jean-Marc took the mirror the older Haitian man offered and admired his reflection. Jean-Marc has always been handsome, and the number of women and men who check him out daily tends to reaffirm this, but his new haircut made him look even better. Jean-Marc thanked the old man on a job well done, and paid him thirty Gourdes instead of the standard twenty five.

After wishing Maitre Numa and the other fellas a good day, Jean-Marc walked out of Les Freres Laveaux Barber Shop. The young Haitian man walked through the streets of metropolitan Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti, with a manly, cocky bounce on his step. Jean-Marc considers himself the prince of the City of Cap-Haitien, and everything he wants will be his, when his time comes. The Republic of Haiti is going through all kinds of Hell thanks to the Coup D’Etat which ousted President Aristide, but a certain bisexual hedonist with narcissistic tendencies simply cannot be bothered. Jean-Marc is madly in love with himself, and it’s a beautiful thing…

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