Bye, Felicia!

"Ghanim, I'm so sorry about Felicia, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you," Francine Charbonneau said softly, and she gently laid her hand on her best friend Ghanim Djite's arm. Ghanim shrugged and looked at her, smiled faintly and then looked out the window. They were on the crowded number eight OC Transpo bus leaving downtown Ottawa, Ontario, for the nearby City of Gatineau, Quebec, on a sunny day in mid-May...

Gatineau, a small town right there on the border between Ontario and Quebec, is considered one of the toughest spots on this side of North America. The kind of place that lots of 'good' Canadians routinely turned their noses at. With an influx of Africans, Arabs, Asians and Latinos mingling with the traditional French Canadian and Aboriginals that made up the bulk of the population of Quebec, it was a melting pot and a powder keg all rolled into one. The place Ghanim Djite and Francine Charbonneau have called home for practically their entire lives...

"It's all good, Francine, I kind of saw it coming," Ghanim said, and when Francine looked into his soulful brown eyes, there was a hollow, defeated look that haunted her. Ghanim looked haggard, and she wasn't sure how to take it. Francine had known the six-foot-tall, burly and dark-skinned, Afro-sporting young Togolese Muslim practically her whole life. Hell, they grew up together on Boulevard Labrosse, one of the City of Gatineau's most 'storied' neighborhoods.

"No offense, Ghanim, but Felicia is a bitch, she doesn't deserve you," Francine said hotly, and Ghanim bit his lip, and kind of nodded. Sporting his University of Ottawa Gee-Gee's sweatshirt and a pair of blue jeans, Ghanim was just coming back from a long shift at the local Loblaw's, and he was tired as can be. Those ten-hour shifts were killer, and Francine, his friend and former co-worker, definitely knew it...

"The signs were all there, I should have known," Ghanim whispered, shaking his head morosely, and Francine leaned closer, straining to hear him. Francine licked her lips, unsure what to say. Ghanim had always been there for her, always protecting her from bozos and now that he needed her help, Francine was at a loss for words. Ghanim had always been there for her, like a rock. Seeing him so rattled hurt Francine to her core...

Born in the City of Gatineau to a French Canadian mother, Annette Bineau, and Arthur Charbonneau, an Aboriginal father originally from the Ojibwe First Nation, Francine Charbonneau grew up with a foot in each world. For Francine was considered too pale for the Natives and too dark for the whites, or something to that effect. Five feet five inches tall, sharp-featured and curvy, with long black hair, light bronze skin and light brown eyes, the exotically beautiful young woman was often mistaken for various other ethnicities. It was something Francine learned to live with as a visible minority in Canada...

"I'm half Native and half white," Francine Charbonneau always told both casual acquaintances and strangers when they inquired about her ethnicity. Francine was so used to being asked about her origins that she didn't know what to make of Ghanim Darnell and his parents, Nicolas and Yvette Djite when they moved to Gatineau, Quebec, from the West African nation of Togo. They didn't speak French, spoke English with an odd accent, and kept to themselves.

"I'm Ghanim, good to meet you," those were Ghanim's first words to Francine when he and his family moved into the old neighborhood on Boulevard Labrosse. Francine smiled hesitantly and then shook the tall, brawny young black man's hand. Thus the two of them met, and forged a lasting friendship. In time, Francine and Ghanim became inseparable. They went to the same school, and attended the same activity clubs.

After graduating from the local academy, the two best friends began to take divergent paths. Francine opted to study Nursing at Universite du Quebec en Outaouais, the Gatineau campus of the University of Quebec. Ghanim, though bilingual at this point, didn't want to attend an exclusively French-language university. That's why he chose the University of Ottawa, a decision which baffled Francine since the Quebec universities were a lot cheaper than the ones in provincial Ontario.

"J'aime vraiment pas la ville d'Ottawa," Francine often said to a smiling Ghanim, even though they both worked there. Gatineau, Francine and Ghanim's hometown, wasn't like the nearby City of Ottawa. On the Ontario side, people were outwardly friendly and polite but passive-aggressive and mean as hell, while on the Quebec side they were a tough-talking bunch, overtly hostile at times, but usually quite friendly once you got to know them. Ottawa people creeped Francine out with their passive-aggressive bullshit...

"Life goes on," Ghanim said somberly, his deep voice snatching Francine out of her little trip down memory lane. Francine grinned at her friend and patted his shoulder. Ghanim looked at his phone, and Francine winced as she noticed that he was still using Felicia Thompson's picture as his screen wallpaper. Of all the dumb things she'd seen a guy do, this one definitely took the cake...

Francine cordially detested Ghanim's ex-girlfriend Felicia Thompson, to put it mildly. The tall, dreadlocked, big-bottomed and chocolate-hued Togolese gal had done a number on Ghanim, slapping him around and cheating on him with O'Neill, some Irish guy she knew at work, yet Ghanim was still sweet on her. Men and their bullshit obsessions with the women who hurt them, Francine thought, shaking her head.

"Hey, star, ever thought about changing your phone wallpaper?" Francine asked, and as a surprised Ghanim looked at her, she snatched his phone from his hand, activated his camera, and took a selfie with it. As Ghanim blinked, a grinning Francine took a second picture with his camera, and managed to install it as his wallpaper before he snatched his phone from her hands. Ghanim shook his head, and Francine smiled innocently...

"Francine, tu es une petite peste," Ghanim said, laughing, and he held up his phone, looking at the new wallpaper. Francine looked at it and smiled. Clad in her blue Walmart work-shirt and Yoga pants, she looked alright, even though her long blonde hair was a mess. Only five-foot-five and a bit on the chubby side, Francine looked a bit tiny next to Ghanim, who looked like he could be an NFL or CFL linebacker. Still, they looked good together...

"Yeah, but you love that about me," Francine said, and as Ghanim nodded, still looking at the phone, she hesitated, and then planted a kiss on his cheek. Ghanim whirled around and looked at her, stunned. Francine looked at Ghanim in a way she never had before. He wasn't sure what he saw in her light brown eyes. Francine's heart thundered in her chest. Now or never, the young woman thought as she drew closer to the object of her affection...

"Newsflash, Ghanim, mon beau, there are other girls in this world besides Felicia Thompson," Francine said hotly. In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, the short, lovely young woman grabbed the burly young Togolese by the collar and yanked him close, then kissed him on the lips. Ghanim looked up at Francine, amazed. Smiling, the young woman looked at him and shrugged. Ghanim's full lips tasted sweet. Truth be told, she'd been wanting to kiss him for a while...

"Francine, um, I don't know what to say," Ghanim said, and he looked at the young woman whom he'd known practically his whole life, stunned by what she'd just done. Never in a million years would Ghanim ever have thought Francine would French-kiss him. They've always been close friends, but never more than that. She was always the first person he turned to when his relationships didn't pan out, that's for damn sure.

"Don't say anything," Francine said, smiling sadly, and then she clapped Ghanim on the shoulder, and got off at the next stop. The bus was still a couple of kilometers from Francine's place, but all of a sudden, she didn't feel like staying on it anymore. With a last, forlorn look at a dumbfounded Ghanim, Francine smiled faintly, nodded at the bus driver and then got off.

"Son, I think she likes you," came a voice, and Ghanim turned around to see Mr. Duchene, an old Haitian guy who lived a few blocks from his place, and the old man was smiling. Ghanim looked at the old guy and then at the door, where Francine had gone. Suddenly filled with inspiration, the young Togolese rose to his feet, and hollered at the bus driver.

"I think you're right," Ghanim said, and the old Quebecer winked at him, smiling as the young man got off the bus, and rushed to the street. Indeed, Ghanim was running before he even hit the ground. As the bus took off, leaving the running youth in the dust, Mr. Duchene stroked his bearded chin and smiled. It was summertime and love was in the air...

"Dammit I'm dumb," Francine said to herself, shaking her head as she walked on the sidewalk. With a fatalistic shrug, she walked into Couche-Tard, a local convenience store, to buy some cigarettes. Francine hadn't had a cigarette in over three months. This was her latest attempt at quitting and she'd been doing quite well, but all of a sudden she felt stressed, and when stressed, Francine found smoking quite relaxing...

Francine browsed the different aisles of the small store, having picked up a pack of Marlboros, she found herself in no hurry to go back to the street. Try as she might, she couldn't stop thinking about Ghanim, about how soft his lips were and how sweet they tasted. For ages she'd fancied him, and now she'd done made her move and it blew right past him. She was so stupid to think she could make Ghanim forget about Felicia Thompson...

Francine vividly remembered how she felt when Ghanim first introduced her to Felicia Thompson, the tall, curvy black chick who worked at the Starbucks not far from their old neighborhood. Ghanim was smitten with Felicia, whom he called his Caribbean goddess. Francine's heart winced when Ghanim took Felicia's hand and brought it to his lips. For her, it had been very painful to watch...

"Ghanim, you're so corny," Felicia said, shaking her head as Ghanim kissed her hand, and Francine gritted her teeth, suddenly wishing she were elsewhere. For weeks Ghanim had been going on and on about Felicia, whom he said was a dead ringer for American Tennis champion Serena Williams, his long-time crush. Francine was used to hearing Ghanim blab about the gals he liked, and thought this was no different. Except, of course, it was...

"Nice to meet you, Felicia, I'm Francine," the young woman said, and Felicia looked her up and down, and smiled frostily. Ghanim stood less than a meter away yet seemed to notice absolutely nothing of the animosity between the two women in his life. Francine had known women like Felicia her whole life. Gorgeous gals who had men fawning over them, eager to give them everything they wanted. How she loathed them...

"It was nice meeting you, Fancy, Ghanim and I have to get going," Felicia said dismissively to Francine, who stood there looking miffed. With a big smile on his face, Ghanim wished Francine a good day and walked away with Felicia. Francine stood there, watching as the mismatched twosome walked away. Ghanim tried to take Felicia's hand in his, but she batted his hand away and linked her arm with his instead. Disgusted, Francine walked away. If Ghanim wanted to be with a mean bimbo, it was his business...

Yeah, that initial meeting between Francine Charbonneau and Felicia Thompson went less than smoothly. As time went by, Francine began noticing changes in Ghanim. The young man whom she considered her best friend did not spend much time with her anymore. They used to hang out together, going to the Saint Laurent Mall in Ottawa, and watching movies at Star Cite Theater in Hull, Quebec. They went to Vanier and played paintball at Tag Zone. Since Felicia came along, Ghanim and Francine stopped doing these things...

Francine bought a few chocolate bars, some potato chips and a can of Pepsi, all of which were overpriced at Couche-Tard, but she didn't care. She asked for a refund on the cigarettes, and the annoyed clerk paid her back. With a sigh, the young woman headed for the door...and almost walked into literally the last person she was expecting...

"Hey Francine," Ghanim said, panting, and Francine gasped in surprise. Ghanim looked at Francine, struggling to catch his breath. He'd been running for a while after getting off the bus, and after losing track of her, he checked a couple of places before coming to Couche-Tard on a hunch. And now he'd found her, but his out-of-shape-ass was too breathless to speak. Great, things were going frigging awesomely...

"Ghanim, what are you doing here?" Francine asked, surprised to see him this far from their block. She surmised that he must have gotten off the bus shortly after her. The question is, what in hell was he doing here? Francine looked at her best friend and smiled. Gently she laid her hand against Ghanim's chest, and she noticed the beads of sweat on his brow. Damn, brother must have run for a bit...

"Well, Francine, um, I came to tell you that I like you, like you a lot, actually," Ghanim said, and Francine grimaced as stuff flew out of his mouth. Same old Ghanim, she thought with a smile. Gently she held his shoulders...and dropped the contents of her shopping bag in the process. Before she could say anything, Ghanim bent down, grabbed the stuff and gently handed it to her...

"Thanks, G-Man, I'm so clumsy today," Francine said, smiling bashfully, and Ghanim smiled and looked at her. When she looked up at him, Francine saw something different in his eyes. Something which made her heart skip a beat. Awkwardly, Ghanim put his arms around her, and then bit his lip. You always had a way with words, Francine thought expectantly. Outwardly calm, inside she was filled with trepidation...

"Well, not more than me, Francine, I've, um, got something to tell you," Ghanim said, and he smiled and cupped Francine's chin in his massive hand. The young woman smiled, pleased with where this was going. After throwing asteroid-sized hints at Ghanim and even kissing him, in public, as they rode the bus together, Francine felt discouraged. If he couldn't see that she was the right woman for him, he never would...

"Let me guess, you realize Felicia is not right for you and you really want me?" Francine asked, hands on her hips. Ghanim smiled at the tiny, curvy woman who stood before him and sighed happily, amazed. Remembering the kiss on the bus, he grabbed Francine, lifted her up like she weighed nothing and then kissed her. With all the passion he could muster...

"Hmm, your lips taste sweet, Miss Charbonneau," Ghanim said slyly when they came up for air, and Francine smiled happily, and then did something else she'd been wanting to do for a while. Grabbing Ghanim's oh-so fine ass, Francine gave it a firm squeeze, which caused him to jerk in surprise. Beaming with joy, the happy twosome looked at each other. Hand in hand, they began the not-so-long walk back to their neighborhood...

"The rest of me is even sweeter," Francine whispered in Ghanim's ear, once they reached her apartment. Ghanim smiled and kissed her again, then grabbed a beer from the fridge while Francine went to the washroom to freshen up. A few minutes later she came back, wearing considerably less. As in she was stark naked! Ghanim put down his beer and smiled in appreciation. Francine was even hotter than he thought...

"Only one way to find out," Ghanim replied, and he playfully slapped his thighs. Laughing, Francine rushed him, and sat on his lap. Ghanim kissed her full and deep, and then they began exploring one another. Off came Ghanim's University of Ottawa sweatshirt, then his pants. Francine grinned upon realizing that her favorite guy wasn't wearing underwear...

"Oh my," Francine whispered, looking at Ghanim's sex, and her eyes flitted all over his body. Tall, burly and dark-skinned, Ghanim was ruggedly handsome the way only men of African descent could be. Francine smiled dreamily and her hands wandered all over Ghanim's body. Ghanim looked at her, enthralled by her tentative, gentle and yet very arousing touch. Francine grabbed his sex and stroked it, and the young man held his breath...

"You're so beautiful," Ghanim said, and he kissed Francine while caressing her breasts, and naturally his hands roved across her curvaceous, sexy body, finding their way to her ass. Francine laughed as Ghanim playfully slapped her ass, and continued to stroke his dick. Black, glistening, and hard as granite, Ghanim's thick, uncircumcised dick pulsed in Francine's hand. Looking into her boo's eyes, the young woman smiled...

"Right back at you," Francine whispered, and Ghanim smiled, then slid his hand between her legs. Francine gasped as Ghanim's fingers slid into her pussy, and he began masturbating her. Locking eyes with one another, Ghanim and Francine pleasured each other. Ghanim thrust two fingers into Francine's wet pussy, causing her to moan softly. The young woman licked her lips and smiled encouragingly at him, while pumping her hand up and down his dick...

"Oh fuck, I'm going to cum," Ghanim cried out, and Francine pulled his hand away from her snatch, and gripped his dick harder. Moments later, Ghanim cried out as he came. Shoving him back on the couch, Francine leaned over and then took him into her mouth, tasting him. Ghanim sighed happily, and Francine winked at him as she began orally pleasuring him. What a woman, Ghanim thought. And to think he'd been obsessing over another, ha!

"Hmm, I like the way you taste, handsome," Francine said to a panting, sighing Ghanim, and he smiled at her. Flicking her tongue over his dick head, she tugged on his ball sac and winked at him. Ghanim pulled Francine up, and propped her up on the couch. Kissing her lips, he caressed her breasts and began pleasuring her. Francine held her breath as Ghanim spread her thick thighs, and looked up at her...

"Let me taste you, mon amour," Ghanim said, and Francine licked her lips as the handsome brother began eating her pussy. Sighing happily, Francine leaned back on the couch, and pinched her nipples. Ghanim seemed to really know his way around the female body, something which gladdened her heart. Slowly, wickedly slowly, Ghanim licked, teased and probed Francine's pussy, causing her to moan, squirm, and eventually cry out his name...

"Oh fuck, G-Man, you're killing me," Francine squealed, as Ghanim flicked his tongue over her clitoris, driving her absolutely nuts. The young woman thrashed wildly on the couch, and like the sweet tormentor he is, Ghanim held her tightly into place, holding her thighs wide open with his strong hands as he lapped away at her wet pussy. He was still going at it when Ghanim came, and the orgasmic cutie squirted hot girly cum all over her lover's face...

"Come here, gorgeous," Ghanim said, gathering Francine in his arms once she came down from cloud nine. Francine looked at him through moist eyes, still tingly down below from the tongue-lashing Ghanim just gave her. Grabbing his dick, she stroked it and then watched as it lengthened and hardened in her hand. As a smiling Ghanim looked on, Francine rubbed his hard sex against her pussy, and nodded firmly.

"G-Man, I've been wanting you for so long," Francine whispered, and Ghanim pulled her close, and once more propped her up on his lap. Taking Ghanim's handsome face in her hands, Francine looked into his eyes. Ghanim gently caressed her breasts, and then kissed her on the lips. Francine resumed stroking her lover's hard dick, and then, in a smooth, fluid motion, inserted it into herself.

"I want you too," Ghanim said, and with that, he bucked his hips, thrusting into Francine. A shocked little gasp escaped the young woman's hips, and she wrapped herself around her lover as he entered her. Ghanim put his hands on Francine's hips, holding her tight as he began fucking her. Francine winced, feeling a sharp pain followed by wicked pleasure as Ghanim began making love to her. Although he definitely wasn't her first lover, he was the one she'd been looking for...