OC Transpo Blues

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Ethiopian man and Japanese woman meet on the bus.
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Samuelx
Samuelx
2,119 Followers

"Not interested, sorry," Yuki Takamori said haughtily to the short, stocky and balding, thirty-something white guy who sat next to her on the bus. For the past half hour, since she boarded the 95 bus heading to Barrhaven Center, he'd been trying to get her attention. Once Yuki made the mistake of actually responding to him, the guy engaged her in increasingly flirtatious small talk, much to her discomfort. Sighing, the guy shrugged while Yuki went back to listening to music on her iPhone.

"You slant-eyed bitch, you are not all that," Baldy said angrily, rising to his feet as the bus neared Queen's Way station. Yuki looked up from her phone, having heard the bozo's angry missive, and first blinked in surprise, and then shrugged. This wasn't the first time that she'd met a racist creep who didn't like hearing the word no, and it most definitely wouldn't be the last.

Even though Yuki outwardly kept her cool, Baldy's words her to her core. Born in London, Ontario, to a Japanese immigrant father, Alexander Takamori, and a French-Canadian mother, Mina Picard, Yuki Takamori was used to being the odd woman out. That's why she came to study engineering at the racially diverse campus of Carleton University in Ottawa. Yuki had been dying to get away from London, the conservative, uptight and deeply racist small town where she grew up...

Somehow, Yuki Takamori expected things to be different in the big city. Since Ottawa was full of Africans, Arabs, Latinos, Aboriginals, Asians and other minority groups, Yuki expected it to be more tolerant, but she was dead wrong. The other passengers on the OC Transpo bus looked at her, and said absolutely nothing. Racist creeps hurl hurtful words at minority women and the locals do nothing about it. Welcome to the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Home of the world's most passive-aggressive creeps..

"Dude, that was definitely not cool, apologize to the lady or I'll knock your pale ass out," said a booming voice, and Yuki turned to seek out its source. Standing at least six feet three inches tall, broad-shouldered, muscular and black as midnight, a young black man wearing a University of Ottawa letterman Men's Swim Team jacket walked up to the balding white dude, who flinched and took a step back.

"Mind your own business, bro, this isn't about you," Baldy said, and everyone on the bus looked on as he backed up while the young black man advanced on him slowly. Several people muttered among themselves, while more than a few took out their cellphones. Yuki rose to her feet, and watched as the creep went to the bus driver, who gestured for the young black man to come up to him.

"Sir, this young man right here is threatening me," Baldly said to the OC Transpo bus driver, a middle-aged white man with a goatee. The bus driver looked at the young black man and shook his head, and the young man shrugged resignedly. Before he could speak, Yuki Takamori made her way to the front of the bus, got between the men, and spoke her piece.

"Sir, this sorry excuse of a man right here has been harassing me for the past half hour, and when I told him off he called me a racial slur, this brave young man here spoke up to defend me," Yuki said, and she saw a look of surprise on the young black man's face. The bus driver looked at Yuki, then at Baldy, and fixed his gaze on the young black man. For a moment, the driver said nothing and stroked his goateed chin.

"Young man, we don't allow intimidation of any sort on OC Transpo buses, you are going to have to leave, right now, or I swear I will stop this goddamn bus and then call security," the bus driver said sharply, and upon hearing that, Baldy smirked victoriously. The bus driver actually bumped fists with the bald-headed white male passenger, who blew Yuki a kiss before returning to his seat.

Yuki froze, stunned by the bus driver's words as well as his blatant bias. She looked back at the throngs of OC Transpo passengers, mostly white, with a few minorities here and there, who sat there and watched the incident. Clearly they'd seen the whole thing and knew Baldy was lying, but none of them would speak up. And why should they?

"Well, if he has to leave then I'm leaving too, and you will be hearing from me, you racist creeps," Yuki said, and the young black man looked at her, and smiled faintly. As the bus reached Iris Station, he got off, and so did she. Outside, it was burning hot, another scorching Wednesday in mid-June in the City of Ottawa. Yuki stood there, and watched the bus go in the distance.

"Ma'am, I'm really sorry about that, this bozo had no right to speak to you like that," the young black man said to her, and Yuki nodded, then casually looked him up and down. On his University of Ottawa sportsman's jacket she could read the rather unique name Ayalew. Smiling faintly at her savior, Yuki held out her hand, and introduced herself.

"I'm Ismail Ayalew of Ethiopia," he replied, and shook her hand vigorously. Yuki looked into Ismail's bronze-colored eyes, which contrasted sharply against his dark skin. A not-unpleasant shiver ran down Yuki's spine, and she nodded graciously, like her Japanese father had taught her during their frequent talks about the differences between Eastern and Western cultures.

"Well, Ismail, thank you for standing up for me," Yuki said, and Ismail smiled and nodded. The young man seemed on the verge of saying something, but then another bus pulled up at Iris Station, and he took out his bright green U-Pass and nodded at her, and Yuki got the hint and boarded the bus.

"Thank God for summer school," Ismail said, as he watched Yuki swipe her Presto Card on the machine, and he held up his U-Pass for the bus driver, an older black gentleman, to see. The bus was packed, without an empty seat in sight, so they ended up standing in the middle. This suited Yuki and Ismail just fine, for they had much to talk about.

"So, what are you taking at Ottawa University?" Yuki asked, and Ismail smiled, and then told her about his Criminology classes. Apparently, he was an international student from Ethiopia, and this was his third year in the City of Ottawa. Judging by his slight accent, Yuki figured he was a newcomer, and she was proven right.

"I'm thinking of becoming a lawyer, if I get in law school afterwards," Ismail said, and he shrugged, a wistful smile on his dark, handsome face. Yuki casually pointed at her Carleton Engineering jacket, which she proudly wore in all seasons, including blistering hot summer days. Ismail nodded, and then held up his fist, which Yuki bumped after a slight hesitation.

"Hope I did it right, I'm as nerdy as they come," Yuki said, flashing an apologetic smile, and Ismail laughed and nodded. The bus rolled on, and before they knew it, they were past Baseline, went through Woodroffe and arrived at Barrhaven Center. Ismail tugged on his backpack, and Yuki bit her lips, hesitating.

"Say, you should file a complaint against the bus driver and the racist creep, if you need a witness, I'm your man," Ismail said, and then he scribbled his name and number on a piece of paper, and handed it to Yuki, who smiled and pocketed it. Ismail smiled and shook her hand before making his way off the bus, and she watched him go.

"Oh I'll definitely be in touch," Yuki said, mostly to herself, as she watched Ismail walk away, heading in the direction of the nearby Loblaw's Supermarket. Damn, Mr. Ethiopia had a seriously nice ass on him. Grabbing the local bus which swung by her apartment, Yuki was still smiling as she punched Ismail's number into her phone, then sent him a ping.

"Hope you got home safe, Yuki, do keep in touch," Ismail replied, seconds after Yuki sent him a text. Yuki got off the bus, and walked to her place. Once inside, she undressed and went straight to the shower. As was her custom, Yuki plugged the drain and sat in the tub, letting it fill up with water. Lying there, totally relaxed, the young woman thought of the events of the day. What a day...

What A Mighty Good Man by oldies artists Salt & Peppa played on Yuki's YouTube playlist, and the young woman smiled and leaned back on the tub, closing her eyes at last. Yuki's hands pinched her nipples, and she felt a wetness between her legs that had nothing to do with the water in the tub. Yuki's left hand slid between her thighs, and she began touching her vagina. Rubbing her clit with her thumb and index finger, the young woman masturbated to a guilty pleasure.

"Hmmm, Ismail," Yuki whispered, and she licked her lips appreciatively as she visualized the tall, dark and handsome Ethiopian stud with the almost overwhelming masculine presence. As she fingered her pussy, Yuki envisioned Ismail before her, kneeling and spreading her thighs apart. Yuki grinned and gestured for Ismail to come to her.

"Yuki, my dear, I swear I'm going to eat that pussy and then tear it up," Fantasyland-Ismail said, and then he buried his handsome face between Yuki's legs. The Ethiopian stud took his sweet time as he pleasured Yuki, sliding his tongue and fingers into her womanly folds, causing her to shudder violently. She was dangerously close to the edge and she knew it...

In the tub, Yuki's body thrashed violently as her fingers finally hit her sweet spot, and a shocked little gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, she didn't know where she was. A wicked smile spread across Yuki's face as she thought of Ismail Ayalew of Ethiopia. Rising from the tub, she flushed it and then admired her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Five feet nine inches tall, neither fat nor thin but "sturdy and curvy", Yuki Takamori smiled to her reflection. With her short, spiky black hair framing her slightly angular face, lively brown eyes full of mischief and pouty lips, she looked pretty damn good. Turning around, she admired her derriere, which was nice and big. Laughing, Yuki slapped her behind, and watched it jiggle nicely.

For ages Yuki Takamori hated being chubby and having large breasts, wide hips and a big bum. Those features, along with her mixed-race heritage, made her stand out in London, Ontario, where everyone was pale and skinny. After moving to Ottawa, and receiving admiring glances and even the occasional catcalls from minority guys who loved her curvy form and ample derriere, Yuki learned to love herself.

"Ottawa fools, you won't know what hit you," Yuki said to herself as she sat in the living room, a couple of hours later. Dialing up the OC Transpo Customer Service line, she waited patiently for the call center operator to pick up, and then calmly told the lady on the other line about the bus driver's deeds. She'd taken the time, the bus number and gave her the driver's description.

Afterwards, the young woman sat in the dark, and watched TV. There was an old movie on the tube, The Prophecy, starring Christopher Walken. The veteran Hollywood actor, whose work Yuki liked for ages, starred as a rogue angel going after some unfortunate souls while trying to retrieve a lost soul. As angels fought and died onscreen, a battle of indecision raged in Yuki's head.

For hours, Yuki agonized over a most difficult choice. Should I call Ismail or not? Will he think I'm too forward? All those thoughts raced through Yuki Takamori's mind, and she looked at her iPhone, and at the last text Ismail Ayalew sent her. Frustrated, she went on Facebook and decided to look him up. Finding Ismail took her all of ten seconds.

"Let's see what we have here," Yuki said aloud as she browsed through Ismail Ayalew's Facebook profile. Lucky for her, he had an unrestricted profile, which wasn't very prudent of him. Eagerly Yuki looked around. Pictures of Ismail in a dark suit and tie, next to a bunch of similarly attired young African men. Probably his high school graduation, Yuki figured. Hot pictures of Ismail in his swim trunks, next to a bunch of young white guys. His teammates from the University of Ottawa Men's Varsity Swim team, in all likelihood.

"Of course, the obligatory blonde chick," Yuki said, and her lips curled in distaste as she saw a picture of Ismail standing awfully close to a tall blonde-haired white gal. Unable to resist, Yuki clicked on the blondie, whose name was Cheryl Hawkes, and peeped her profile. Cheryl's profile listed her as married to some white guy named David, and Yuki smiled in relief.

"Hello there, Ismail, it's Yuki from the bus," Yuki typed in the message box, and then sent it to Ismail. Less than a minute later, not only did she get a message from him, but Ismail also sent Yuki a friend request. Grinning, the normally reclusive young woman accepted it before she could talk herself out of it. Yuki's heart skipped a beat as Ismail promptly invited her to chat online.

"Hello again, Yuki," Ismail wrote, and Yuki grinned, then replied. Before she knew it, half an hour had gone by. At some point, Yuki apologized to Ismail because someone had the nerve to call her while she was chatting via text, and when she picked up the call, a deep masculine voice chimed in at the other end, and Yuki slowly let out her breath.

"You sure have a deep voice, Mr. Ismail," Yuki said coyly, playing it cool even though her heart was going pitter-patter. Truth be told, Yuki wasn't usually that bold with men. In fact, the small-town gal could count her romances on one hand. Her last serious relationship was with Mario Alvarez, a young Mexican student she met in the Carleton University library.

Mario approached Yuki, and she found the tall, dark-haired and bronze-skinned Mexican stud quite charming. They really hit it off and started going out. They were together throughout the first three years of university, and then one day, Yuki came home early and found Mario in the arms of their landlady at the time, a middle-aged white woman named Abigail. Thus ended the first serious romance of Yuki's adult life...

"Got swimming practice tomorrow, but perhaps we could grab a coffee Friday?" Ismail said, and his voice snatched Yuki out of her reverie. Sighing inwardly, Yuki chastised herself for her tendency to daydream at the worst possible times. Realizing that Ismail was expecting an answer from her, Yuki paused for dramatic effect, licked her lips, then spoke.

"Sounds good, Mr. Ottawa U, wouldn't want you to miss swim practice, but on one condition, it will have to be in the morning and at Carleton University," Yuki said coyly, and she heard Ismail chuckle loudly on the other end. For ages Yuki's friends and family often accused her of being too nice, too friendly and too compliant, especially in her dealings with men. Well, it was high time for her to assert herself...

"Home court advantage, eh? You drove a hard bargain but I approve, Miss Yuki, I will definitely see you Friday morning, is eleven o'clock okay?" Ismail replied, laughing a bit. Yuki laughed as well, and kept him dangling for a few more seconds before answering in the affirmative. Ismail thanked her, and then wished her a goodnight.

"Same to you, Mr. Ismail, looking forward to it," Yuki said, and then she clicked off the phone. Her fingers had barely left the button before the young woman squealed in delight, and then sighed happily. A feeling bordering euphoria gripped Yuki, and she sat there, happy as can be, for the first time in ages. With a smile on her face, Yuki finished watching the movie, and then ate supper and went to bed.

Samuelx
Samuelx
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