5 comments/ 21435 views/ 3 favorites Black Cheerleaders By: Samuelx You should have seen the way they reacted when I walked onto the field the day of tryouts. I guess they really weren't expecting me. Like most Cheerleading squads in the United States of America, the ladies of the Easton University Cheerleading Squad were all skinny blondes. Well, I guess that's why I decided to give Cheerleading a try. My name is Emilie Jeanne Etienne. And I wrote this song, as they say. I've always been considered unusual pretty much everywhere I went. When I lived in my native City of Cap-Haitien in the Republic of Haiti, I played soccer with the guys. And they stopped holding back after I gave their best goalkeepers nightmares. Yeah, I was really good. In my teens, the family moved to the City of Montreal in the Canadian Province of Quebec. There were lots of Haitians there, and I felt at home. I made waves when I joined the men's wrestling team at Sacre Coeur Academie. And the media went nuts when I became team captain after amassing one hundred career victories over three years. I don't let people stop me. I'm a five-foot-eleven, muscular and athletic, dark-skinned young Black woman in a world that seems tailor-made for skinny White chicks. I can't afford to let people stop me or get to me. After graduating from Sacre Coeur Academie, I had offers from the best Canadian Universities. Places like the University of Ottawa, Carleton University, the University of Montreal, the University of Toronto, the University of British Columbia and McMaster University wanted me. Instead I chose to attend Easton University in the City of Easton, Massachusetts. All the way in America. A lot of my friends were stunned when I opted to study in America. I've always wanted to live in America. I visited the Haitian enclave of Belray near the City of Miami, Florida, and fell in love with the U.S. So much diversity and so many possibilities. So what was there to stop me? I had Canadian citizenship and a full scholarship offer from a small New England school. I accepted it and thus my American adventure began. My parents were not thrilled, as you can imagine. My father Bertrand is a police officer in Montreal, and my mother Daphne is a fitness expert in the Athletics Department at the University of Montreal. They both had plans which didn't involve their only daughter moving to America. Sorry, Mom and Dad. I love you and all but it's my life. I left Quebec. America, here I come. I didn't experience much culture shock in America, partly because I had visited many times before. However, the town and school where I lived were radically different from the City of Boston which I had visited many times before. At Easton University, I experienced a very different world. Easton University was a school in transition. Five years prior, they were sued by the Attorney General of Massachusetts for discriminatory practices against minority students. So these days, they were on the state's human rights watchdogs collective radars and were basically forced to diversify a bit. Easton University considers itself diverse because twenty four percent of its eight thousand students are of African-American, Asian, Hispanic or Native American descent. The school and nearby City residents weren't exactly thrilled with this mandated influx of diversity on campus. However, Massachusetts is a progressive state. The first to elect an African-American Governor in modern times, I believe. Or was that New York? On campus, I felt like an odd duck. I'm a Canadian gal of Haitian descent at an American school. I speak fluent French, and a heavily accented English because I grew up in the French-speaking Province of Quebec. To the African-American students on campus, I was considered strange. A lot of Black Americans think us Black Canadians are meek or easygoing. We're tougher than we seem. We have to be. I grew up in the most bigoted part of all Canada. I had to toughen up to deal with constant verbal attacks by the French Canadians who did not welcome the onslaught of Haitians and Africans moving into all the towns of Quebec. My senior year at Sacre Coeur Academie, I organized a fundraiser to help my beloved friends in the Republic of Haiti after the bloody Quake. We raised sixty thousand dollars online. A bunch of Haitian and Jamaican students at a Canadian Catholic school in Quebec, with no help from anyone! So believe me when I tell you that us Black Canadians are no pushovers, my dear African-American friends. What does all of that have to do with Cheerleading? I just wanted you to know who and what you're dealing with, that's all. Because the ladies of the Easton University Varsity Cheerleading Squad certainly didn't, and lived to regret it. Now, I liked the Easton University campus just fine. People were polite but distant. Easton was a quiet and boring town. Kind of reminds me of Ottawa, Canada's paltry little capital. It's full of fake-smiling bigots too. I hung out in the bigger, livelier and more diverse City of Boston every chance I got. It's where I met some of the ladies and gentlemen who would become my best friends in America. I met this tall, gorgeous young Haitian woman named Madeline Lemieux in Boston's South End. Picture this, if you will. Six feet of curvy, coconut-brown Caribbean goddess, with long black hair, full lips, a firm chest, wide hips and legs that go on forever. Oh, and a fine, heart-shaped bottom too. Madeline Lemieux was simply beautiful. The first time I laid eyes upon her I knew we were birds of a feather. This Northeastern University student liked the ladies as much as I did. And we became fast friends. Madeline and I had drinks and exchanged numbers that very same day. She was studying business administration at Northeastern University and considered herself bisexual, though she was sort of seeing an Ethiopian housewife. I was saddened when she told me that. My dream gal was taken. So sad, but whatever. Madeline promised me we would always be friends and I later grew to value her friendship. Friends are forever, mid-afternoon lesbian romps are temporary. Or so I told myself. Madeline had a diverse circle of friends. They were cool people, especially George Armand. This tall, good-looking Haitian brother looked like Tyson Beckford's younger brother, only hotter. He's studying Criminal Justice at Bay State College and has been crushing on Madeline forever. They used to date but they're just friends now. Or so they tell themselves. I could sense the chemistry between them and didn't like it one bit but George was so friendly and generous that I grew past that. I came to treasure his friendship as well. Especially since he had a deep respect and appreciation for all Black women regardless of sexual orientation. And that's a rare and wonderful thing in today's world. Even a queer woman like myself can appreciate that. The third member of our inner circle was Kenny Saint Marc, a burly, Hershey-colored Haitian brother who also hailed from Atlanta, Georgia. He transferred to Suffolk University's MBA program after earning his bachelor's degree from that legendary school, Morehouse College. Kenny is the married member of our little club. His wife Geraldine Jean-Francois doesn't like hanging out with us. She's short, chubby, light-skinned and curly-haired. Half Haitian and half Puerto Rican. Geraldine works as a Transit police officer with the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority. She's fluent in Spanish, English and heavily accented Haitian Creole. Too bad she's a bitch and an insatiable opportunist. Though she's pretty, I wouldn't touch her with a ten and a half foot pole even if she was gay or bisexual. Yeah, I was thoroughly enjoying my time in Massachusetts with my classmates at Easton University and my Boston-based friends. Until the day I decided to try out for the Easton University Varsity Cheerleading Squad. Now, Easton University has scores of minority student athletes. I hate that term, minority. We're people, not numbers. Especially since Blacks, Asians, Hispanics, Arabs and Natives will outnumber Caucasians in America in less than three decades. Though still overwhelmingly Caucasian, the Confederation of Canada isn't that far behind with this trend. The reason for that? Immigrants from Africa, China, India, Latin America and the Caribbean reproduce much faster than the Canadians of European descent. Cities like Toronto, Vancouver, Ottawa and Preston already reflect Canada's changing demographics. Anyhow, my decision to try out for the Cheerleading Squad prompted mixed responses from my friends. America has elected a Black man as its President, and there is an African-American Governor in Massachusetts, an Indian female Governor in the deeply racist state of South Carolina, but was America ready for Black female Cheerleaders at lily-White University campuses? Only time would tell. I wish I could have attended a historically Black college or University like Hampton University, Howard University, Texas Southern University, Tuskegee University or Spelman College. However, I'm in Massachusetts. So I had to make do with what I have. If Hampton University, a mostly Black school can choose some ditzy and paranoid White chick as its beauty queen, then I can be a Cheerleader at lily-White Easton University. Word up. That was my reasoning. Kenny called me a 'true soul sister' and wished me luck. Madeline thought I was doomed for failure. That really hurt coming from another sister. George told me that if the school tried to fuss over it, he would get me a good lawyer. Smiling, I went my way. When I showed up for tryouts, I was the only Black gal. The other White chicks were nice to me mainly because they think take me seriously as competition. Until they saw me outshine the best of them. Then they got me and gave me cold stares and fake smiles. I returned every cold stare and fake smile. The Cheerleading team's captain, a blonde-haired White chick named Bambi or something always had a nasty word for me practically every few minutes. Until I told her that if she didn't get off my back, I'd make her famous...Jesse Jackson style. The arrogant White chick went pale and backed off. And thus the tryouts were concluded. And I joined the squad. The first Black female Cheerleader in Easton University history. How about that? The night after tryouts, I went out with my friends to celebrate. Kenny took us to this Haitian-owned bar/restaurant called Tamboo in the City of Brockton, not far from Boston. I had a great time that night. Madeline was full of disbelief that I actually made it on the squad. Wow. And she didn't seem too happy for me. George on the other hand was ecstatic. He bought me flowers and candy. I'm not a flowers type of chick but I appreciated the gesture. George is an awesome friend. If I was into men, he's definitely the type of man I'd give some pussy too. He's good-looking, patient, kind and generous. I've had bisexual women tell me that their boyfriends and husbands treat them better than some of the lesbians they deal with. After meeting and dealing with George, I'm inclined to believe that. Yeah, I celebrated with my friends. After that, I took my ass home. I called my parents to inform them of my latest milestone. They congratulated me and warned me to watch out around the Americans. I didn't need to be told twice. Just because you're living somewhere doesn't mean you belong. By joining the cheerleading squad, I had become a celebrity on the Easton University campus. Now, the school had all-Black or mostly Black men's football men's and women's basketball teams. The baseball, cycling, tennis, soccer, golf and equestrian teams were all White, as expected. Welcome to America. The other girls on the squad didn't exactly welcome me with warm fuzzy feelings during practice. I was getting a lot of attention from both men and women. Now, I'm not the first Black Cheerleader at a mostly White school in America. However, most of the Black women who are 'allowed' to show up the White chicks in domains like Beauty Contests and Cheerleading, tend to be light-skinned Black women or mixed-race women. I am one hundred percent Black. I cannot be mistaken for anything else. I'm the same shade as that Hollywood legend, the African-American actress Grace Jones. A lot of people were reacting to me strangely. One nerdy White guy walked up to me inside the campus library and told me I was just another example of affirmative action gone amok. I told him that if he didn't get out of my face, I'd break his legs and shove my foot up his ass. Since I was taller and visibly stronger than him, he backed off quickly. A middle-aged Black woman at a bus stop told me she would have preferred a lighter-skinned Black woman like her daughter to join the squad. Wow. Racism within the Black community, aimed by light-skinned Black folks against darker-skinned Black folks. Will that one ever go away? I told the dumb sister that she had a slave mentality and walked away. Man, I get so tired of people bugging me. Ever since I was interviewed by that lovely Asian female reporter from CW56, folks have been walking up to me every bloody day. My life was changing really fast, and I wasn't thrilled about it. Thanks to some bozo on Facebook, my sexual orientation became a matter of public record. Someone found out I was queer and leaked it online. Now I've got tons of groups discussing my sexual life online. Why is America obsessed with Black female sexuality? I'm just a Haitian chick from Canada who likes women, thank you very much. I'm not some exotic species. I'm not that unusual. I'm a human being. Now, I've never exactly been closeted. My parents have known that I was queer before I even came close to figuring it out myself. And they're okay with it, for the most part. I don't hide my gayness from family or friends. However, I don't broadcast it either. Being so exposed made me feel uncomfortable. The other girls on the cheerleading squad expressed discomfort about sharing a locker room with a "Black dyke". And they wrote some nasty stuff on my locker. Man, I can't believe this crap. I'm a Black woman who loves Black women exclusively. I don't like white girls. Never been into them. Never will be. I'm sure they'll find plenty of others to keep them company. I love my fellow Black women. Thank you very much. I told this to Bambi and the endless parade of Heathers, Ambers and Jenny's that she lorded over. They scoffed in surprise. The Black woman is my standard of beauty, folks. Accept no substitute. I wasn't doing too well, to tell you the truth. Academically, things were fine though I was stressed out. Socially, things were weird. Madeline no longer talked to me. She turned into a hater after a random Black woman and her daughters asked for my autograph one night at Westgate Mall in Brockton. I guess I had truly become a celebrity in some folks eyes. Stuff like that no longer shocked me. However, Madeline got really mad at me. And I called her some names I won't repeat here. So we're no longer pals. The girls on the team continued with their bullshit, but I refused to give into them and I refused to bow. I went to all the practices, delivered a killer performance on the field at game time and then went back to my dorm. I was going through hell but kept my head up and smiled. The only person to support me through all this was George. He always picked me up to go to Boston after practice, and he always knew how to cheer me up. George is amazing, folks. Truly one of the best people on the planet. He keeps trying to fix me up with random girls but I'm not ready for romance. Still, I had to give him credit for trying. He was only looking out for me. One day, George finally introduced me to someone I found interesting. Her name is Natalie D'Avignon. Five feet ten inches tall, curvy, with short hair, dark brown skin, wide-set brown eyes and full lips. Oh, and a thick, curvy body, wide hips and a big round butt. Just the way I like them. Natalie is a biology major at Bridgewater State College and she's originally from Tampa, Florida. This Haitian-American mama spoke English, French, Spanish and Haitian Creole. And she took my breath away. When I saw her, I had to smile. My heart skipped a beat. George saw my reaction and smiled slyly. I grinned and squeezed his hand. For once, my wingman had done right. Before Natalie even spoke to me, I knew I had hit the jackpot. This lovely young lady was openly gay, and proudly butch. I don't know if I'm butch but I'm definitely a tomboy. And I like my chicks a little on the masculine side, kind of like me. Natalie had similar tastes. Needless to say, we got along famously. Natalie and I started hanging out casually, and given the obvious chemistry between us, we started dating. We often walk through Boston's busy streets while holding hands. Men and sometimes women smile at us and whistle as we walk by. A pair of tall, beautiful Black women. Strong, intelligent, and fiercely independent. One hundred percent Haitian. One hundred percent female. And one hundred percent gay. We walk through the Easton University campus and get stared at too. The White chicks don't bother me during Cheerleading practice anymore. They're on their best behaviour. Without telling me, my Natalie had a word or two with Bambi. I don't know what Natalie said or did but she put the fear of God in Bambi. I love my woman. She is loving yet ferocious. Not a combination you see every bloody day. I think I'm falling in love with Natalie, folks. The sex is awesome. My woman knows how to rock my world. Afterwards Natalie leaves me with that special afterglow that makes me literally purr with contentment. I love Natalie and she loves me. I can't thank George for introducing us. He's awesome. I told him that if Natalie and I ever get hitched, he's going to be my best man. Why? Simply because next to my father, he's the best man I know. My one and only best friend. The heterosexual male best friend of a proud Black lesbian. Now you've seen everything. I love my life, folks. Black Cheerleaders Rock! How are you folks doing today? I want to tell you the story of how I met my wife. I was only a University freshman when I met her. She was simply the most amazing chick on campus. Vanessa Saint Richard. Daughter of Boston-based Haitian-American Lawyer James Saint Richard and Brazilian-born Canadian Real Estate Legend Maria Ramos. A five-foot-nine, lean and athletic young woman with golden brown skin, long Black hair and light brown eyes. This African-American princess ruled the Carleton University campus. That's right. Does that surprise you? A Black woman basically runs the social scene at Canada's Capital University. And everyone knew it. Jennifer Saint Richard was Captain of the Cheerleading Squad. There were thirty young women on the Squad and only six of them were of African descent. There were three Latinas and two Asian young women. Yeah, women of color are an anomaly on Canadian cheerleading squads. Yet a young Black woman ran the whole show. Amazing. How did so do it? With strength, determination, and the inability to take no for an answer. I've always been fascinated by North America's Black women. Black Canadian women are okay but African-American women fascinate me. They're amazingly beautiful. They're also smart, strong and passionate. They fear no one. Growing up, I had crushes on Black American female celebrities like Hollywood actress Angela Bassett, TV Legend Jada Pinkett Smith, World Tennis Champion Serena Williams, Pop Culture Icon Pam Grier, Award-winning Singer Alicia Keys and many others. I fell in love with a young Black woman named Elise Nielson during my senior year at New York's Saint Joseph Academy. She was the first gal I ever made love with. After graduation, she went on to attend Boston College. These days, she's dating a football player from the University of Massachusetts. I'm so jealous! Who am I? Aabideen Akbar Mahmoud. A young woman from the United Arab Emirates. My family moved to New York City when I was much younger. I grew up in America but will always feel like a foreigner here. I stand five feet nine inches tall, chubby and busty, with dark bronze skin, Black hair and pale brown eyes. The life of an Arab woman in North America is never easy. I have family in the United States of America, particularly in New York City. I'm attending Carleton University on an academic scholarship. There are quite a few people from the Middle east living in the City of Ottawa. However, I can't stand to live in the City of Ottawa. If you ask me, Ottawa is home to the most bigoted and racist people on the planet. They hide their contempt for immigrants of non-European origin behind their fake smiles. I can't stand the typical Canadians. I find the sons and daughters of immigrants from the Caribbean and Latin America to be really nice people. That's why most of my friends at Carleton University were either Black or Hispanic. Among these lively young men and women, I felt quite welcome. Most people assume I'm Hispanic due to my looks. I don't find this annoying or offensive in the least. I have lots of friends from Latin America. However, I'm a proud Arab woman. Being an Arab gal in a very Western City wasn't easy. A lot of the White guys and White chicks at Carleton University didn't hide their contempt for Muslims, especially Arab women like myself. I complained to the Dean of Students but she told me there was nothing she could do. Canadians are racist. That's the way they all are. All of them without exception. And they're not changing anytime soon. When I heard those words, my heart sank. I was bitterly resigned to my fate. I tried to balance my life and be faithful both to my Arabic heritage and the things I had to do to survive in North America. I often wore brightly coloured T-shirts and jeans, but I also wore the hijab. The Canadians always gave me funny looks because of this. I've come to accept the fact that all Canadians are racist bozos who hate Africans, Asians, Hispanics and Arabs yet hide their bigotry behind fake smiles and a supposed politeness. At least in America you know what you're dealing with. One day, this racist fat White chick basically cornered me in the cafeteria with two of her White female friends. They called me a towel head and told me to go back to the Middle East. Defiant to the end, I spat on the face of the fat White chick nearest me and smacked another. That really pissed them off. I'm not exactly a dainty dame. I stand five foot nine inches tall and weigh two hundred and ten pounds. I grew up with four older brothers in New York City so I knew how to fight. However, I was outnumbered. I was about to get my big ass kicked when someone came to my rescue. It was none other than Vanessa Saint Richard, the tall and sexy Haitian chick from the Carleton University Varsity Cheerleading Squad. She waded into the White chicks and kicked their butts. Wow. I had never seen anything like it. The bigoted chicks ran off, unable to take on the strong Black woman. And that's how I met Vanessa Saint Richard. She was absolutely magnificent. Vanessa looked into my eyes and asked me if I was okay. I nodded, fascinating by how beautiful she was. She was half Haitian and half Puerto Rican but considered herself one hundred percent Black. She kind of reminded me of that sexy Black actress who played T.I.'s love interest in the hit movie ATL. In other words, she was amazingly beautiful. I was too mesmerized by her natural beauty to say anything. Vanessa assumed my silence was due to shock. Lucky me. She escorted me to the campus security office where I reported the incident. The three White chicks who attacked me were subsequently thrown out of Carleton University. Thanks to the strength and bravery of a young Black woman, justice was done. To say that I was enthralled by Vanessa would have been an understatement. I was ready to worship her as a Nubian Goddess. I learned a lot more about Vanessa Saint Richard over the next few months. She was the most interesting person I met. So fine, sexy and sincere. The combination was rare in Canada. She reminded me so much of the strong Black women I knew in Harlem, a suburb of New York City. Makes sense since she was born in the United States of America. In Massachusetts, to be exact. Vanessa maintains dual American and Canadian citizenship. During the summer, she vacations at her father's house in Boston. Her parents are divorced but still amicable. She confided in me that she wanted to live in Boston after graduating from Carleton University. Well, I shared that sentiment. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Canada. In America, people are more genuine. Your friends are your friends. And your enemies are your enemies. You can easily tell them apart because people are usually brutally honest. In Canada, the bigots are polite and flash you a fake smile more often than clowns. They make me sick. The school year went by pretty fast. I had become Vanessa's new best friend. I helped her with the preparations for the annual party thrown by the Haitian students on May 18, internationally known as Haitian Flag Day. It was a very lively party. Hundreds of young men and women of Haitian descent from schools like the University of Ottawa, Algonquin College and La Cite Collegiale came to Carleton University for the party. We had a good time. It was at the party that I noticed that while Vanessa was friendly to everyone, she didn't appear interested in men. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that. Could my gorgeous Haitian-American Princess be queer like me? I could only hope. After the party, Vanessa and I went to my dorm to chill a little bit. We sat on my living room couch and watched TV. They were giving the movie The Incredibly True Adventures Of Two Girls In Love on the Diva Channel. It's an old lesbian classic. An old flick about an interracial lesbian relationship. An upper-middle-class Black chick falls in love with a working-class White tomboy. Talk about a mismatch. Vanessa watched it with interest. Especially the love scenes between the star-crossed lesbian lovers. Wow. I sat on the couch wearing a red T-shirt and shorts. Vanessa wore a short dress and a T-shirt. She looked simply delicious. Tentatively, I touched her thigh. She looked at me but didn't move my hand away. Emboldened, I caressed her shapely thighs, and looked into Vanessa's eyes. In those lovely brown eyes of hers, I saw an intense desire. That's when I kissed her. Our lips met, and it was the most passionate kiss of my life. Gently, we undressed each other and began exploring each other. I caressed Vanessa's ripe, full breasts and gently licked the areolas. Gently I spread her thighs, and slipped one finger inside her already wet pussy. After a minute, I added another. She seemed to like that. Vanessa moaned as I began fucking her with my fingers. Smiling, I began licking and fingering her. She tasted absolutely wonderful to my lips. My sweet Black Goddess. Vanessa and I went to my bedroom, where we continued our fun. I went down on her, licking and fingering her sweet pussy. Then she went down on me. My Vanessa licked and fingered my pussy with gusto. Hell, she made me purr like a kitten. I took out my bag of toys to spice things up. I handed Vanessa a sleek pink dildo and she used it to fuck me. I rubbed my tits together as she thrust the dildo into my cunt. I told her to fuck me hard and she did it happily. My sexy Black Princess fucked me hard, making me squeal in delight. I was only too happy to return the favour after. This time, I wore a strap-on dildo. And I heartily fucked Vanessa with it. First, she sucked my dildo and I must say the sight of her sucking it sent a thrill in my pussy. Then I put her on all fours, caressing her sexy, heart-shaped booty before sliding my dildo into her pussy lips. And just like that I began fucking my sexy Black Goddess. Vanessa was a real screamer as I fucked her with my strap-on. I loved every minute of it. I buried my dildo deep into her cunt and spanked her big butt. We had a lot of wild, kinky fun during that first night. The next morning, I woke up next to my Vanessa. And she looked so lovely. I kissed her lips tenderly and told her how much she meant to me. Vanessa smiled and told me she cared about me too. What a pair we made. A Black cheerleader and an Arab woman, both lesbians, meeting and falling in love at a Canadian University. Now you've seen everything. It was just the beginning for Vanessa and me. That summer, I accompanied her to Boston and met her father. He was cool with his daughter dating me. We were officially a couple, and would eventually move to Boston together after graduating from Carleton University. I love my Black Goddess. And I would eventually marry her in a legally binding ceremony attended by both of our families in Boston. Life is perfect now. Black Cheerleaders Rule! I'll admit that when I first met her, I didn't like her. Who am I talking about? Stephanie Mendes. The six-foot-tall, sexy young Black woman who tried out for the Blackstone University Varsity Cheerleading Squad and became its Captain. Why didn't I like her? It had to do with her almost supernatural beauty, her extremely bossy ways and her attitude. Now, don't get me wrong. We welcome racial and cultural diversity at Blackstone University. There are thirty young women on the Squad and eleven of us are from minority backgrounds. We have Asian, Hispanic and Middle-Eastern girls on the Cheerleading Squad. Stephanie became the first Black Cheerleader at the school. An instant celebrity and darling of the media. I saw her as my rival. I really didn't intend to fall in love with her. My name is Amber O'Shea. A five-foot-nine, lean and athletic, blonde-haired and green-eyed young woman of Irish descent living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I attend the most diverse school in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Blackstone University. It has eleven thousand students and forty one percent of them are of African-American, Middle-Eastern, Asian, Hispanic or Native American descent. The school's tenth President, Dr. Rosa Angels, is a Black woman. She graduated from the Blackstone University MBA program in 1989. Twenty one years later, she's the school's first female President and its first African-American President as well. A lot of people think I'm some chick from a sheltered life because of my background. I can't stand that. Seriously. Get to know me before you judge me. Before attending Blackstone University, I was a student at Saint William Academy, a private Catholic school. I attended that school on an academic scholarship. You see, my parents are dirt-poor. I worked hard to get where I am, that's all. I'm not one of those snobby White chicks you hear about. I publicly dated a tall, handsome young Black man named Trevor James Whitaker. T.J. to his friends. He now plays football for Boston College, Blackstone University's archrivals. I loved Trevor. And the fact that he dumped me for a Black chick named Josephine right before the Senior Class Prom didn't make me hate his guts. It just made me swear off men altogether. I've always hung out with people based on mutual interests and personality rather than race or religion. My father, Anthony O'Shea died when I was real young. And my mother, Elisabeth O'Shea married a Japanese businessman named Edwin Yamamoto. That's right, my stepfather is Japanese. My mother bore him a son, my half-brother Josiah Yamamoto. I love my brother and my stepfather. These days, Josiah Yamamoto is the Senior Class President at Saint William Academy. And I support him in everything he does because he's family. Yeah, I come from a working-class multicultural family. You would never guess that by looking at me. I'm not a WASP. I'm a down to earth kind of Boston chick. When I enrolled at Blackstone University, I wanted to join the women's basketball team. Most of the girls on the team were either Black or Hispanic, with an Asian chick here and there. I can play basketball pretty well. In fact, I met my ex-boyfriend while playing basketball with some male friends at the YMCA. However, since I'm short and not particularly fast, I didn't fare too well against these tall and rough-and-tumble chicks. I wanted to play a sport but what were my options? Blackstone University fields men's and women's basketball, men's baseball, women's softball, men's and women's soccer, men's and women's cross country, men's and women's swimming, men's and women's volleyball, men's and women's Ice Hockey, men's Football and women's Equestrian. Basketball is the only sport I know how to play. I tried out for the women's swim team but failed miserably. I'm not a good swimmer. Not all White chicks are swimmers. Get it through your head. My last option for an athletically challenging extracurricular activity was the varsity cheerleading squad. I tried out and made it. The cheer captain was this mean-spirited Irish redhead named Monica O'Bannon. I couldn't stand that bitch, and neither could most of her 'followers'. She put me through hell simply for being the new gal on the block. I resisted the urge to punch her lights out. When I heard that she got in a car accident and couldn't cheer for the rest of the season, I was extremely happy. I wanted to become the cheerleading team captain. And now I had my shot. Or so I thought. Unfortunately, this tall and extremely gorgeous young Black woman came along and blew my dream out of the sky. Stephanie Mendes came from Brockton Community High School, where Black and Hispanic cheerleaders are quite common. Brockton is a city not far from Metropolitan Boston where people of African-American, Asian and Hispanic descent outnumber Whites. Their schools are really diverse. I hang out t Brockton's Westgate Mall sometime. It's pretty cool. Stephanie was a Brockton gal through and true. And she had a lot of experience in all things related to cheerleading. When Stephanie joined the varsity cheerleading team, the national media came and everyone was rooting for her. The first Black woman to join the Blackstone University varsity cheerleading squad. CNN had the nerve to call us a lily-White squad even though we had Asian, Hispanic and even Pakistani cheerleaders on the team. Wow. The Black Entertainment Television ( BET) news crew took many pictures of Stephanie Mendes and ignored the rest of us. I don't have a problem with a sexy young Black woman succeeding. I really don't. However, I didn't feel she deserved all the attention she got. Nobody made a fuss when I joined the team. Of course, blonde-haired White chicks are common on cheerleading squads. We're nothing unusual or special in the eyes of the media. However, when a hot woman from a minority background joins a cheerleading squad, it's front page news. I just love this, don't you? To say that Stephanie and I didn't like each other would have been an understatement. She called me an uppity White bitch to my face once and I resisted the urge to take a swing at her. Why do people keep making assumptions about me? I'm not rich. I'm not famous. I'm not perfect. I don't hang around with only White folks. I have friends of all races. In my lifetime, I've dated Black guys and Hispanic guys, not just White guys. I attend a mostly Black Church, the Good Life Seventh-Day Adventist Church of South Boston. I live in a middle-class neighbourhood where people of African-American, Hispanic and Asian descent outnumber Caucasians. Oh, and my stepfather and half-brother are both Japanese! Who are you calling an uppity White bitch? At school, I struggled in my classes. Acing my classes at Saint William Academy was easy. Blackstone University was a tough school. And if my GPA fell below a 3.0 I would lose my academic scholarship. So I went to the Student Center to get tutored. Guess who was the tutor? My tutor was none other than my archrival Stephanie Mendes. She came in wearing a bright red T-shirt and blue jeans. Her long black hair was pulled in a bun and she looked really beautiful. So beautiful that she gave me pause. I was stunned. Stephanie offered me a handshake with a bright smile as if we were best friends. I gave her a fake grin. I didn't want to be tutored by her. However, unless I wanted to flunk out of school, I needed her help. Stephanie had me right where she wanted me, and we both knew it. I needed help with my Advanced Algebra homework, along with Sociology, Psychology and Physics. Stephanie was proficient in all of these subjects. Oh, great. She's not only tall and gorgeous, she's also a genius. During that first tutoring session, she simply amazed me. What is it about all these gorgeous Black girls I see in Boston-area colleges and universities? They're all smart, strong and sexy. They're like Super Women! After that first tutoring session, I found myself revising my opinion of Stephanie. When I went home that night, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I did my homework on her. Stephanie was the daughter of Ernest Gomes, a Brockton city councilman of Cape Verdean origin. Her mother Elsie Joseph was of Haitian descent and taught mathematics at Brockton Community High School. She was famous not only for being the first Black cheerleading captain at her old high school but also its most recent Prom Queen. Wow. Oh, and she was also on the men's wrestling team at her high school. She took third place at the state wrestling championships in her weight class. Wow. All that and the looks of a supermodel and the brains of a genius. Is there anything she can't do? As I lay on my bed, my thoughts drifted to my ex-boyfriend. My sexy Chocolate stud. How I missed him. Yet it was another sexy brown body my mind kept picturing. I found myself fantasizing about Stephanie. Her cute smile. Her lovely breasts. That athletic yet curvy body. Those strong legs. And oh my God, that big and round yet firm-looking butt. My own thoughts surprised me. What the heck? What is wrong with me? I am not gay or bisexual, I swear. I don't think of other girls like that. I went to sleep. And dreamt of Stephanie. Damn. The next day, we had cheerleading practice and things were more awkward than usual. I kept looking at her, and trying not to picture her naked...I failed miserably. When we formed a pyramid in preparation for next Friday's football game against the University of Maine, I got so distracted by Stephanie's ass that I tripped. The whole pyramid came down. And the whole squad blamed me. I did something I had never done before. I took off running. I could feel everyone staring at me. I didn't care. I had to get away. I got to my dorm, and went straight to bed. I must have been asleep when I heard two knocks on the door. I went to see who it was, thinking it was my roommate Sally Chang, this chubby Asian chick from Plymouth. It wasn't Sally. The person at the door was none other than Stephanie Mendes. A.K.A. the last person on the planet I wanted to see. She was wearing a tank top and booty shorts. And she looked...delicious. Oh, man. Did I just think she looked delicious? What is wrong with me? Stephanie's voice jolted me back to reality. She asked me if she could come in. I nodded. We sat down and she grilled me. First she wanted to know why I sucked more than usual at cheerleading practice. Second, she wanted to know why I skipped our tutoring session at the Student Center. I hesitated. Should I tell her? Definitely not. She would think that I'm weird. I couldn't believe this. I was having sexual feelings for another woman, my archrival. Why her? Stephanie looked at me with surprising empathy in her big brown eyes. She told me she didn't particularly like me but thought I was an okay person. She wanted to know what could have rattled me this much. That's the closest she's come to complimenting me. Wow. I smiled and told her I thought she was an amazing person. Stephanie's eyes narrowed and she tensed. In a cold voice, she told me I didn't have to fake being nice to her. She got up and headed for the door. I don't know what came over me but I darted after her. I grabbed her hand, wanting to apologize. She didn't like that. She got in my face, looking quite irate. That's when I did something that surprised us both. I kissed her. Stephanie froze. But she didn't resist. When our lips parted, her eyes widened and she shoved me away. I got right back in her face. And this time, she didn't resist. She kissed me. Somehow, we ended up on the carpeted floor of my apartment. Kissing and touching affectionately. I got on top of Stephanie, desperately wanting her. Stephanie looked at me with panic in her eyes and told me she wasn't gay or bisexual. I told her I wasn't gay or bisexual either. I simply wanted her. I kissed her again. We wrestled playfully and she got on top of me. Then we began undressing each other. Soon we were both naked. I was amazed at Stephanie's gorgeous, brown-skinned and absolutely magnificent body. She looked like an African Goddess from the old days come to life. I was just a skinny White tomboy who happened to be naked. Stephanie appeared to like what she saw when she looked at me. I kissed her tenderly, and began licking her breasts. I had never done this to another woman before but it felt right. Stephanie guided me as I licked a path from her breasts to her belly. Finally, I made my way to her pelvic area. I inhaled the scent of her pussy. It was wondrous, and hot. Though I was clearly a novice, I fastened my lips to Stephanie's pussy and began licking away. She must have liked what I was doing for she grabbed my neck and urged me to go down on her. I licked and fingered her pussy. And it didn't feel weird or wrong to me. It felt absolutely right. Stephanie's screams of passion filled the dorm. Afterwards, things got really awkward. Stephanie clearly enjoyed what we did but she told me repeatedly that she wasn't gay or bisexual. She also threatened to kick my ass if I told anyone. Wow. She really didn't have to say that. Who am I going to tell? I was really confused after my first time having sex with another woman. It was amazing, sensual and erotic yet confusing. It did a lot for me. More than my late-night romps with my ex-boyfriend. And I knew I wanted more. And I wanted Stephanie. She avoided me like the plague on campus. In our dealings during cheerleading practice and tutoring, she was polite but distant. Yet I could see she still wanted me. I could see it clearly in her eyes. Three nights after our first romp, she came back to my dorm. Yeah, Stephanie wanted more. The sexy Black Goddess wanted some of my White Chocolate. And I was more than happy to share. This time, she went down on me. Spread my legs and went straight for the pussy. And she absolutely rocked my world. We licked and fingered each other all night. I loved the feel of Stephanie's lips on mine as she fingered my pussy. It was a great night. Afterwards, she didn't hit the panic button but told me she liked me. I told her I liked her too. And she told me she wanted to continue our fun and games as long as I was discreet. What do you think I said? Stephanie and I continued to have our fun on the sly. Publicly, she only dated men. She was going out with this tall, good-looking young Black man named Erick Dwayne. Captain of the Blackstone University men's varsity football team. Yeah, they seem like the perfect couple. But I'm the only one who can give Stephanie what she needs. That's why she keeps coming back to me night after night. I went shopping for a few items to spice things up for our 'sessions'. Like a strap-on dildo, a bunch of vibrators, and lots of lubricant. Hey, I'm optimistic, alright? The following night, I treated Stephanie to some wild fun. She liked the way I think. I licked her pussy and fingered her before fucking her with my vibrator. When I put on the strap-on dildo, she was a bit nervous but I told her I'd be gentle. And I was. I gently penetrated her pussy with the strap-on dildo and fucked her gently. After a while, her nervousness vanished. My sexy Black Goddess relaxed and enjoyed. We got into even more kinky stuff together. Stephanie liked her big booty played with. I loved licking her big brown butt and spanking it. I even slid a slim dildo up her big ass while licking her pussy and she loved it. I gently fucked her ass with my pink dildo, and she squealed in delight. Stephanie was learning a lot of things with me. Like how to lick my pussy properly. I also showed her the proper way to fuck another woman with a strap-on and volunteered my own cunt and ass for the experiment. Wearing my strap-on dildo, Stephanie fucked me. My sexy Black Goddess looked absolutely amazing while fucking me. She was so tall and gorgeous. I lay on my back, legs in the air as she thrust the dildo deep into my cunt. At the same time she fingered my asshole. After a while, she replaced her fingers with a slim blue dildo and fucked my ass with it. I'm really into anal play now. Both giving and receiving. And Stephanie enjoys doing both with me. We're exploring eroticism and kink together. I am really into spanking now. I love to bend Stephanie over my knee and give her big brown butt a good spanking. And she loves getting her big butt spanked. Stephanie loves to suck my strap-on dildo before I fuck her pussy and ass with it. Sometimes when I come to my dorm, I find her naked waiting for me. She loves to sit on my lap as we make out before fucking passionately. I love making love to her. She sometimes feels like spanking me and although I'm not really into it, I happily bend over and take it because I want to make her happy. She means that much to me. We're spending more time together outside the bedroom now. Stephanie and I went dancing at this queer-friendly nightclub in Rhode Island, far away from the prying eyes of our classmates and friends. I care about her and she cares about me. However, we come from different worlds. I'm a working-class Irish chick who's discovering her bisexuality and coming to terms with her attraction to Black women. Stephanie is a middle-class African-American gal from a deeply religious background who isn't quite ready to embrace her newfound sexual identity. Stephanie can't say the words gay or bisexual without feeling uncomfortable. She isn't ready to come out. I'm not ready to come out of the closet either. However, I've at least admitted to myself that I am bisexual. Stephanie can't do that yet. I hope she'll eventually come around someday. I'm in love with her. I want to be with my Black Goddess for the rest of my days. Black Cheerleaders Run This Town All the things I've done. They never truly cease to amaze me. My name is Marguerite Fils-Aime. A young Black woman of Haitian descent living in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. I'm a student at Sanctus Magnus University, a private Catholic school located in the heart of Boston. These days, I'm simply having the time of my life. The life of a Black lesbian in North America is never easy but there are many joyful moments. I just seduced my Butch lesbian girlfriend Isabel into letting me fuck her with my strap-on dildo and then I blasted the news to all of our queer friends before dumping her sorry butt. Am I good or what? A lot of people underestimate me. That's what happens when you're a five-foot-six, slim Black chick. When I tried out for the Sanctus Magnus University Varsity Cheerleading Squad, no one thought I would make it. Not only did I make it on the Squad but a year later I became its Captain. The White chicks were stunned. I guess I showed them. Sanctus Magnus University considers itself a diverse institution. Students of African-American, Asian, Hispanic or Native American descent make up thirty two percent of the overall student body. However, this school is as bigoted and elitist as they come. Trust me on that one. The school boasts that it has forty six Blacks, nineteen Indians, thirty one Hispanics and seventeen Asians among its six-hundred-person faculty. Sometimes I think the people who run Sanctus Magnus University like the smell of their own farts. The school's President, a Roman Catholic Priest named Fr. Jonathan Frasier, is a horny bastard who spends most of his time chasing campus broads. The rest of the time he's meeting international visitors and talking to the press. What a clown. The school's Chancellor, Dr. Adam Brown, is an admirable man. The first African-American chosen to be Chancellor of a Catholic University in the United States of America. He's a Howard University graduate with a Master's degree in Business Administration. He later went to Harvard University. Now he's stuck being the number two guy to a man who is clearly his inferior intellectually. Welcome to Collegiate America. Enjoy your stay. I came to Sanctus Magnus University for only one reason. To improve their image, they went to inner-City High Schools and offered four-year academic scholarships to the mostly Black and Hispanic students who graduated with a 3.0 GPA or above. Sanctus Magnus University is one of the Whitest schools in the City of Boston. Even big private schools like Northeastern University, Boston College, Boston University and Suffolk University have more diverse student body profiles. Whites are now the minority in the City of Boston. They're outnumbered by the Asians, African-Americans, Hispanics and Arabs. And they're not happy about it but they have to play ball with us. Especially since the Governor of Massachusetts is an African-American gentleman. It's in this politically charged environment that I found myself searching for love. I recently discovered that I was gay. Not an easy thing to be when you're a young Black woman. The African-American community isn't known for its support of gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transsexuals. We're a homophobic lot, it must be said. There are a few Black girls at SMU but they're mostly straight. Every Black woman in college wants to get herself a good-looking, educated Black man before graduation. I can't blame my straight sisters for being gung-ho in their search for the brother of their dreams. The competition for available Black men is complicated by the fact that there aren't as many as they'd like, and many good-looking, educated and supposedly heterosexual Black males often date Asian women, White women or Hispanic women these days. Every Black woman at SMU wants a Black man. I'm a Black woman searching for a Black woman. Do you understand my dilemma now? I met this chick who was quite hot. Isabel Benedetto. A six-foot-tall, light-skinned, kind of burly Black chick with short hair. She was half Black and half Italian. I don't usually go for Butch chicks or mixed chicks but she was cute. She plays Rugby for SMU. Isabel came to me with that Butch chick's swagger and cockiness. I decided to play along. Isabel Benedetto is a student-athlete at Sanctus Magnus University. Her father, Gino Benedetto is an Italian Lothario well-known to SMU faculty because he played football for the school in the late 1970s. These days, he's a Fire Chief in South Boston. Isabel's mother Elise Germain is a Black woman of Haitian descent yet Isabel herself doesn't speak a word of Haitian Creole. She is however fluent in Italian. I can't stand Black people who are White-washed. Isabel looked like a Black woman but she sounded and acted like a White chick. Let's just say I didn't think much of her but I was bored and horny so I stuck with her. After we started dating, I tried to school Isabel about Black History and life in the Americas. She didn't know Jack about Toussaint Louverture, the Black man who helped end slavery on the Island of Haiti by starting the Revolution which eventually saw the French oppressors driven off the island. She didn't know about Jean-Baptiste Pointe Du Sable, the Haitian-born immigrant who founded the City of Chicago in Illinois. Nor did she know about Jean-Jacques Dessalines, the Black man who founded the Republic of Haiti after driving off English, Spanish and French forces. Nope. She didn't know Jack about these great Black men. Yet she knew all about Christopher Columbus, the bigoted Italian bastard who supposedly discovered America. The guy is responsible for more deaths than Adolf Hitler. He committed genocide on a grander scale. Yet the Americans named a holiday after him. And Isabel considered herself Italian-American rather than African-American. Wow. Her Italian father did a good job brainwashing her, huh? Isabel was easy on the eyes, but she was about as interesting as wet paint. I had my fun with her. A lot of Butch women assume all of us Femmes are submissive and meek. I don't let anybody dominate me regardless of race, gender or sexual identity. I simply don't get down like that. And I showed it to her. I could tell Isabel wasn't as tough as she pretended to be. I saw right through Isabel's Butch Chick swagger and saw the insecure and vulnerable woman inside. And I most definitely took advantage of her weakness. Slowly but surely, I wore her down mentally and sexually. It was absolutely fascinating to get her worked up like this. I am good at what I do. The secret of my success in this life is that I'm good at getting inside people's heads. Doesn't matter what the occasion. I took Isabel to my off-campus apartment and showed her a good time. I swore to her that everything we did would stay between us. She was happy to hear that. She told me that she always fantasized about getting dominated by another woman but could never bring herself to do it. I kissed her tenderly and undressed her. Then we got busy. I laid her naked body on the bed and kissed her all over. I gently licked the areolas of her breasts. Isabel moaned in pleasure as I sucked her tits. Butch chicks can and do moan. What a surprise! When I spread her legs, Isabel hesitated. I told her I would take care of her. Butch women are funny about letting a Femme play with their pussy. As if some bitch's pussy is special because she wears guy clothes and acts all tough. Oh, please! However, I didn't say that to Isabel. Not when I was so close. I promised her I'd be gentle. She nodded, and I proceeded to work my magic on her. Gently I licked and fingered her pussy. Isabel closed her eyes as I did my thing. I gently bit her clit while fucking her with my fingers. She licked her lips and stirred, clearly enjoying herself. I knew it. She liked it. I fucked her some more. And I replaced my fingers with a slim blue strap-on dildo. She was a bit hesitant, so I cajoled her into it. Soon I was thrusting my strap-on dildo into her cunt and making my big and tough Butch woman purr like a kitten! Oh, yeah. She liked it. I fucked a Butch woman and she liked it! I put her on all fours, pulled her hair and smacked her ass while fucking her. A lot of Butch women have big butts but consider their asses to be off-limits. I spanked Isabel's ass and slammed my dildo up her cunt. I owned that bitch. And she knew it. Afterwards, Isabel was all smiles. She thanked me for a wonderful time. Unbeknownst to her, I had filmed the whole thing. Yep, a hidden camera lesbian lick down. Now you've seen everything. I edited the video and blurred my face before sending multiple copies to all the queer chicks who knew Isabel and I. My way of destroying this White-washed, biracial Butch chick's reputation. I made her my bitch now and I just wanted everyone to know. Man, I feel good! Us Femmes need to step up and remind the Butch sluts that they don't automatically run the show. I'm a gorgeous Black Femme, a Cheerleader and yes, I tame Butch women. Does that surprise you? It shouldn't. Who's next? Oh, Butch chicks! The line starts at the right.