"Hello," I said to the tall, curvy, bronze-skinned, dark-haired and curvaceous First Nations/Native American cutie, and she looked me up and down, pretty face oozing with attitude, and said nothing. Haughtily she walked out of the Loblaw's store, carrying herself like a queen or something. Big ass plus attitude equals irresistible in many a Black man's lexicon, and I was definitely no exception to that rule.

"Another time," I thought to myself, remembering halcyon days when I was dating another bronze-skinned cutie, albeit one from the other side of the world. Things didn't work out between myself and Sawsan, a fine Lebanese MILF who worked at this bakery located near Innes Road in the east end of Ottawa, Ontario. Fast forward a few months, and I found myself working security at Loblaw's in the west end of Ottawa, not far from Algonquin College.

"Stephen, you know she's not a real woman, eh? This Native chick is a transsexual or a transgender or whatever those people call themselves," said Marcus, an old white dude working as a greeter at the Loblaw's. I looked at the little man and wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but as a fourth-year student at the University of Ottawa, I needed some bucks to pay for my final classes. I couldn't lose my job yet. I smiled politely at Marcus and shrugged, wishing he'd drop the subject.

"All kinds of people in this world," I replied, and Marcus nodded, and continued to ogle the young women streaming into the store, which is what he normally does. I have no problem with that, since that's basically what I do too. There's a key difference, though. I don't have any problem with people based on their differences. You could be male or female, transgender or whatever, hail from any race or religion, and if you are nice to me, I'll be nice to you. That's it, that's all.

Working the three to eleven PM shift as a security guard in a busy store like Loblaw's is definitely not easy. People come in and out, and since the store is open 24/7, that's really saying something. I just wish customers and associates for that matter were nicer to us security guards. I swear, the moment you put on a security guard uniform, people feel free to say anything to you and disrespect you in every way that they see fit. And the security company and the store managers expect you to put up with this shit for a measly twelve dollars per hour. Go figure.

After my shift ended, I walked over to Baseline Station to catch the 95 bus which would take me to Barrhaven, Ontario, where I live. I hate taking the bus at night, especially on weekends, because I cannot stand all those drunk young people who make a fuss on the damn bus. I work for a living. I cannot afford to buy a car yet. Hence why I put up with riding OC Transpo to get around the City of Ottawa, Ontario.

I sat in the middle seats, and like civilized folks everywhere, I took out my cellphone and began listening to music during the short ride to my rented spot in the heart of Barrhaven. The hit song What I've Done, one of my favorites, takes on a whole new meaning since the tragic death of the band Linkin Park's lead singer. I was falling into the groove of the song when I felt something tap me on the shoulder. What the fuck, man?

"Hello, Mister Security Man," a feminine voice chimed, and I looked up to see a familiar female voice looking at me. It was her, the Native gal from Loblaw's. The same one who blew me off earlier when I politely greeted her. I didn't even stop her to ask her for a receipt, so her bitchiness was unwelcome and unexpected. What does she want with me now?

"Um, hello, not big on touching," I replied, and Miss Haughty Transgender Native Gal looked at me and smiled, and leaned back in her chair. I looked her up and down. Clad in a black tank top and black booty shorts, with thigh-high black leather pants, she looked pretty good. Kind of near-gothic chic, only Native American or First Nations style, you know?

"Hi there, I'm Tanya, I thought I recognized you, and, um, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier," she said, smiling faintly and held out her hand. After a brief hesitation I shook Tanya's hand, and told her my name. Tanya looked like she was dressed for the night clubs, or worse, so I was surprised to see her heading deeper into Nepean, instead of going to downtown Ottawa, where most of the city's night clubs are.

"Cool, having a nice night, I hope," I stated flatly, and Tanya smiled and nodded hopefully, then launched into a tirade about some lousy friends of hers who ditched her and blah plus more blah. I, Stephen Benoit, must have a sign on my forehead that states my availability for hearing people's sob stories. At work, at school and at home, I am besieged by long-winded bozos that won't leave me alone. What the fuck, man?

"Fuck, life is not easy out here when you're different, I mean, you're black and I'm transgender, people hate us, you know?" Tanya whispered, smiling in a conspirator's way, and I smiled politely and nodded. I'm a big and tall black man in my late twenties, and I've been told more times than the law should allow that I resemble Hollywood actor and rapper Ice Cube. I don't see it but whatever. I swing both ways, though I'm mostly celibate these days. Say, does being a bisexual black man make me magically able to understand the plight of transgender people? The answer is a resounding no!

"Tanya, I think you're a bit tipsy, you should go home," I said, trying to be polite, and seriously wishing that Tanya the lovely, big-bottomed transgender Native American/First Nations cutie would leave me alone. Yeah, she looked hot in those booty shorts, but I was dead tired, and wanted to go home and sleep. I was off for the next two days, and thought about going to see the movie Flatliners, the new one. How do I get rid of this ditz without breaking my self-imposed gentlemanly rules?

"Yeah, I'm tipsy, but I can get the hint, handsome, I won't bother you," Tanya replied smartly, and when her brown eyes met mine, she looked hurt. I smiled politely at her and went back to listening to my music video on YouTube. Tanya took out her cell phone, and began talking loudly into it, cussing out someone named Alan, and disturbing the seven or so other men and women on the bus. Why is this chick acting this way?

"You're a bit loud," I remarked, and Tanya winked at me, and then leaned way closer than I felt comfortable with, and playfully clapped me on the shoulder. I frowned and brushed her hand off my shoulder, and Tanya grinned, and held her hand up, her way of apologizing, I guess. Tanya finally got the hint, and then shared some decidedly unwanted and unnecessary information with yours truly...

"Sorry about that, Stephen, I had to let my ex-boyfriend Alan and his crew know that they couldn't treat me like shit and get away with it," Tanya said, and she held out her hand, making a fist and offering me dap. Reluctantly I bumped my fist against hers. This was way more excitement than I needed on the damn bus while heading home on a Sunday night in the City of Ottawa, thank you very much. How do I get rid of this chick?

"Tanya, you're getting on my nerves, okay? Can you please leave me alone?" I asked, feeling my anger rising. Other people on the bus were looking at us, and I looked at them and shook my head. Some looked amused. Others looked annoyed. And it was all Tanya's fault. I looked at her and Tanya grinned, then leaned ever closer to me. Why are women, transgender ladies included, so hell-bent on getting on a calm and respectful brother's last damn nerve?

"Stephen, you're so handsome when you're angry, Hmm, I bet you get all the girls," Tanya said, and before I could say anything else, she leaned closer and planted her lips firmly against mine. And the lady did not let go. I tried to push her away from me but Tanya batted my hands away with a strength that surprised me. When we came up for air, I was aware of two things. One, this boundary-breaking, weird, beautiful and freaky Native transgender chick got me pissed. Two, my dick is harder than a rock...

"Last stop, folks," the OC Transpo bus driver cried out, and I suddenly realized that we had arrived at the Marketplace Station in the Business District of Barrhaven, Ontario. Tanya looked at me and smiled, and I shook my head and exited the bus. The bus sped away, and I found myself alone in the dark, with this smiling Native American transgender temptress. What happened next surprised me...

"You're annoying but hot, Tanya," I heard myself say, and a smiling Tanya grinned, and then kissed me again. We walked through the deserted bus station, and headed for a quiet spot behind the LCBO. Right then and there, Tanya and I got our freak on, as they say. I kissed her and drew her to me, and a smiling Tanya patted my groin. I caressed her lovely face and her breasts, and then I saw something poking out the front of her shorts. I patted her groin, and felt a hard member against my hand...

"I'm spontaneous, Stephen, let's do this," Tanya said, and I nodded, and unzipped my pants, freeing my member. I don't wear underwear. Tanya grinned and grabbed my dick, and stroked it. Without another word, Tanya and I did our thing. She knelt before me and began sucking my dick. I leaned against the LCBO's back wall, and relaxed as this crazy, beautiful and freaky Native transgender gal pleasured me like I hadn't been pleasured in a very long time...

"Dammit you're good," I whispered, and Tanya's lovely head bobbed up and down as she sucked me off. Later, I returned the favor by getting on my knees and sucking her long and thick dick. When Tanya came, I eagerly drank her cum. Yeah, I'm freaky like that. We continued with our fun, and I was hard as a rock and ready to fuck some ass, and I didn't care what gender or race it belonged to. I'm progressive that way, ladies and gents, what can I say?

"Condoms are a must," Tanya chided me, and I smiled as she pulled one out of her purse, and tossed it to me. I rolled the condom on my dick, and watched as she bent over, showing me that big bronze ass. Without a care in the world I caressed Tanya's ass, then smacked it. Spreading those thick ass cheeks, I began munching on that butt hole like it was nobody's business.

"Oh yeah, eat that ass, you're lucky I showered an hour earlier," Tanya squealed, and I smacked her big ass, watching it jiggle as I kept on eating it. After giving the sexy Native transwoman's ass a tongue bath, I took some Aloe cream hand lotion from my backpack, and made good use of it. I lubricated Tanya's ass good and proper, then began working my dick up in there...

"Dammit you got a nice ass," I remarked, groaning as I pushed my dick into Tanya's asshole. The sexy Native transwoman squealed as I began fucking her. Folks, I love a big round ass, and I honestly don't give a fuck which race, gender, orientation or religion the ass in question belongs to. Just bend over and let me fuck it. That's exactly what Tanya did, and we had ourselves some good, dirty fun.

"Dammit, you wrecked my ass," Tanya said, after I pulled out of her, a little while later. I was about to reply when a bus light pierced the darkness, and another 95 bus arrived at Marketplace Station. I smiled at Tanya and we went into the nearby Pizza Pizza restaurant, and you should have seen the look on the Pakistani clerk's face when we walked in. We got cleaned up in the washrooms, and then exited as if nothing had happened...

"Get home safe, Tanya, you're one freaky and crazy broad, now, if that ass needs servicing, think of your buddy Stephen the security man," I said, as Tanya and I stood in front of the Pizza place. Tanya smiled and punched my cell phone number into her presumably long list of friends and acquaintances, and then we parted ways. Folks, I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.

"Hello Stephen," came Tanya's voice, the following afternoon, as I stood at the front of the store, working security. I was in the middle of an argument with an old white dude who didn't feel like showing me his receipt, even though he beeped while exiting the store. Upon hearing Tanya's voice, I turned around, and there she was. My favorite Native American/First Nations transgender temptress with the big booty from hell...

"Hello there," I replied, and I shrugged dismissively at the old white dude, and focused my attention on Tanya. Clad in a black leather vest over a black tank top and Yoga pants, with thigh-high black leather boots, she looked even hotter than last night. I greeted her with a hug, and she playfully, accidentally brushed her hand against my ass. I decided to take an early lunch and took Tanya to the nearby Mucho Burrito restaurant. Marcus the store greeter smiled understandingly as Tanya and I exited the store. Passion, nothing like it in this world, folks.