From Mississippi With Love

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The idea that every redneck is a racist is preposterous, if you ask me. My name is Dawn O’Shea and I’m a lifelong resident of Biloxi, a small town in the heart of Mississippi. I was born on November 9, 1967, to Thomas and Darlene O’Connor. My father worked for the U.S. Postal Service and my mom was a schoolteacher. I studied business at Jackson State University, and returned to Biloxi to open up a restaurant, Dawn’s Place.

While at Jackson State University, I met the love of my life. Jean-Luc Wanton, a tall, good-looking African-American gentleman originally from the City of Brockton, Massachusetts. We’re from different worlds, Jean-Luc and I. Hell, come to think of it, Jean-Luc’s folks came from different worlds too. His mother Elsie Vincent hails from the island of Haiti, and his father, Joseph Wanton, is white, originally from the south side of Boston. All the way down in Massachusetts, or Yankee country as I call it.

The two of them met, got married and had Jean-Luc, the fascinating and unique man who literally changed my world. Jean-Luc Wanton was born to Elsie Vincent-Wanton and Joseph Wanton on February 5, 1969. Guess you could say that confronting racial prejudice was in Jean-Luc’s blood, since he’s the son of an interracial couple. Now, at the time that Jean-Luc and I were canoodling on the Jackson State University campus, the South was going through a lot of changes. Integration was the order of the day, and try as they might, the rednecks couldn’t stop progress. No sir, they did put up a fight though.

Now, the thing about my part of the world is that folks don’t bullshit you. If they’re racist, they’ll let you know. If they’re cool with you, then they’re cool with you. Polite to your face and bigoted behind your back isn’t how we do things in the South or Midwest. Nope, we’re upfront about how we feel when it comes to the issue of race. Jean-Luc and I got our share of angry stares and racial Anadolu Yakası escort comments from bigoted students and faculty while at Jackson State University, but we didn’t let that stop us.

I consider myself a lucky woman that I even met Jean-Luc Wanton, seriously. I’m a business-minded gal, always good with numbers but I suck at human relations and I’m not what you’d consider a warm and fuzzy type. I didn’t want to be like almost every redneck chick from my neck of the woods, barefoot and pregnant by age twenty, and destined to never venture beyond a hundred miles of Biloxi.

No sir, I had me some plans. I wanted to get a bachelor’s degree in business, and work for a big company in someplace fancy like New York City, Boston or Los Angeles. The north always fascinated me, and I didn’t have a die-hard hatred for all things north of the Mason-Dixon line like so many rednecks. Nope, I firmly believe in giving people a fair shake before passing judgement on them. It’s what this southern gal was taught in Sunday school.

I’ve always been brainy, which is a good thing since Heaven didn’t bless me with good looks. I’m six-foot-tall, with broad shoulders, large breasts, a chubby body, a huge ass and thick thighs. My hair is a long, unkempt and mousy shade of brown. My eyes are a dull blue, and my skin is what they call fish-belly white around here. I swear, it’s a damn curse to be Irish in someplace warm and sunny like the South because as everyone knows, we Irish folk don’t tan, we burn like crisp critters.

Tall, chubby and plain-faced, but gifted with brains, I won myself an academic scholarship to Jackson State University after graduating from Saint Augustine Christian Academy. My parents wanted me to go to nearby Virginia College but I wanted to explore life outside of the City of Biloxi for a change and all their pleading and whining couldn’t stop me. College Anadolu Yakası escort bayan is a time in a person’s life when he or she ought to do some exploring and, within reason, some experimentation. I did my fair share of that at Jackson State University, that’s for damn bloody sure.

The first time I saw Jean-Luc Wanton, I was actually mesmerized. Now, we’ve got black folks in Biloxi but they’re nothing like him. The tall, light-skinned brother with the thick Afro and the greenish eyes walked with a swagger to him. Oh, and he wasn’t like those thugs you see in music videos these days. Jean-Luc was always well-dressed, and spoke properly. A gentleman of the old school, that’s my sweet Jean-Luc.

I was on my way to my sociology class, an elective I dreaded but desperately needed. Jean-Luc was headed there, and he asked me for directions. I showed him the way, and we ended sitting together. That’s how it all began. The tall brother with the New England accent surprised me, and showed me that a lot of things that us rednecks believe about black folks simply aren’t true. Jean-Luc was smart, ambitious and definitely going places. Only thing I didn’t like about him was his Roman Catholic faith. I’m a Southern Methodist woman. Catholics freak me out, seriously!

Of course, Jean-Luc ended up luring me to his faith, and I converted to Catholicism by the we got married, right after college, in the summer of 1991. I got my business degree from Jackson State University and Jean-Luc earned himself an accounting degree. We were ready to take on the world. Our first son, Elijah, was born in 1992 and he was followed by our daughter, Rachel, in 1994, and our youngest, Mitchell, in 1996. A biracial man from Boston and a white woman from the heart of Mississippi settling down in Biloxi and raising a family there. How about that?

Our first night of love occurred three weeks after escort bayan we met. I’m a church-going gal, and in those days I honestly believed in waiting till marriage but Jean-Luc seduced me and lured me to his bed. You see, he’s the only man, other than my Papa, to ever tell me that I’m beautiful. The six-foot-four, dark-skinned brother from New England looked at me, a tall, chunky white chick, and told me that to him, I was beauty itself. Flattery will get you everywhere, as they say. It got Jean-Luc in my bed. Or was it the other way around?

Jean-Luc laid me on his king-sized bed inside his dorm at Jackson State University, and then he worked his magic on me. The biracial stud from Boston licked me from my head to my toes. Jean-Luc kissed me, and fondled my tits, and then kissed a path from my breasts to my belly, and finally, the space between those thick thighs of mine. Jean-Luc buried his face between my legs, and began eating my pussy with gusto.

I cried out as I experienced sexual pleasure for the first time, courtesy of a fearless biracial stud from the north. Jean-Luc licked and fingered my pussy, causing me to moan and writhe on the bed. The man definitely knew his way around the female body, and he set me on fire. Later, Jean-Luc put me on all fours, licked my pussy while fingering my asshole, and then he fucked me good and proper. I cried out as Jean-Luc’s long and thick, caramel-hued dick filled my pussy. That night, Jean-Luc made passionate love to me, spanking my thick white ass and pulling my hair. I totally loved it!

For this man I defied my racist parents, and the other bigots commonly found around the City of Biloxi, Mississippi. This was long before an influx of African-Americans, Latinos and Chinese folks changed the demographics and politics of this small redneck town. Still, I’d like to think that Jean-Luc and I and our family remained safe because I’m just as good with a rifle as any white citizen of old-school Mississippi, if not better. Yup, I’m a racist white man’s worst nightmare. A gun-loving, conservative white woman who loves the black man and carries a gun at all times. Don’t mess with me. I’ll shoot you dead if you come after my husband or my brats. You were warned. Peace

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