1 comments/ 12353 views/ 3 favorites Aya By: bexstar2811 Aya was His. His toy. His plaything. His slave. And god she loved it! She'd worn what her Master had asked. The collar felt safe and right around her delicate throat. He head was bowed as she knelt on the cold floor, all she could hear was her own breathing, steady and slow. Then she heard Him. He was walking up the stairs, ready to inspect, torture and use His slave. Aya's breathing quickened, her heart racing as she began to imagine the delights and pain He had in store for her. As Theo entered, His slave was in front of him, eyes cast to the floor, on her knees and ready to serve him in any way he wished. She was a beautiful sight. "Stand slave." Aya instantly did as she was told. In one graceful movement she was stood in front of Him, her eyes still on the floor. "I'm guessing your going to be my good slave today?" Aya nodded. "Well, turn around and let me look at you." She turned around slowly, feeling His eyes on her the whole time. "Very nice slave. Now, we're going to play a game. This is going to train to stay still, even when you're being pleasured. So, kneel in front of me again, hands behind you." She was on her knees in a second, curious about this game her Master wanted her to play. Theo moved behind her and knelt down. "I want your finger tips to touch each other, so thumb to thumb etc. Now, I'm going to put a penny in between each one, and you must not drop any of them, no matter what I do or you shall be punished. Understand?" Aya nodded, keeping her fingertips locked together. She began to think that this would be easy, her fingers didn't seem to need to do much work to hold onto the pennies. Then, her Master came back to kneel in front of her. His hands went to her breasts. She sucked in a breath, not expecting to be touched so soon, but she didn't drop anything. His mouth slowly moved to lick her already hard nipples, then bite them. She could feel her grip loosening and tightened her fingers. But as she did this, she didn't notice her Master moving his hand down her stomach, past her hips, until he touched her already wet pussy. Aya let out a small cry of surprise, her body shuddering at her Masters touch when she heard it. She closed her eyes as she realised what she had done. As soon as Theo heard it his hands left her body. He looked behind her and sure enough, she had dropped 2 pennies. He tore the rest from her fingertips and pulled her up. "You must learn to keep still when commanded slave!" He through her on the bed, pinning her down so she couldn't crawl away. "Now, you must be punished. Stay exactly where you are." As He got up, she laid perfectly still on the bed. She kept her eyes closed, thinking it was best not to know what was coming. Theo grabbed her wrists and tied them behind her back. He pulled her back so her knees where on the floor and her body was laid over the bed. "Now slave, you need to beg your Master for mercy and you must apologise. Whilst you apologise, you will be spanked. I will not stop until I am satisfied that you have learnt your lesson. You may begin." As soon as the words left his lips his hand struck her. Aya let out a small cry, then pulled herself together and began to beg... "Oh Master, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! I'm not worthy of such a Master and beg you to help me become good enough for you..." He kept spanking her, getting harder and harder with each one. "... I can be good Master, I promise I can! Forgive me please, I will do anything you ask of me. I'm so sorry." Theo stopped. He untied her hands and sat her up. "Very well slave, I forgive you, but you will have to make it up to your Master." Aya nodded, please that she had done well in her begging. Theo instructed her to lay on the bed, face down, legs and arms spread. She did as she was told. Her body was shaking slightly and her pussy was so wet. She lay as still as possible as her Master tied her arms and legs to the corners of the bed. Next, he blindfolded and gagged her, leaving her blind and unable to scream. Theo bent down to her ear. "I'm going to make you scream slave, you're going to love it. I'm going to make you feel pain and pleasure all at once until you are begging me to fuck you." Then he was gone. She had no clue at where he was in the room, let alone what her was doing. Then she felt it. She let out a muffled cry of pain as the burning candle wax dripped down her spine, then straight after, she felt her Masters hand on her soaked pussy. She moaned around the gag, pulling at the ties that bound her. One after another they came, the hot wax, then her Masters skilled hand. She lost track of time, her body writhing with pleasure as she got closer and closer to orgasm, pushing against her Masters hand, Then He stopped. "You were enjoying that weren't you slave?" Aya nodded. "Good. But you're not aloud to cum yet, not until I say so." She heard His quiet laughter as he untied her and took off her gag. He sat her up on the edge of the bed. "Now slave, your Master needs your mouth." He gently placed his hand on the back of her head and guided her to his hard cock. She hesitated only an instant, then swallowed his hard cock as far as she could. Her hot, wet mouth felt so good wrapped tight around his cock. He kept his hand on her head as she used her hands and mouth, flicking her tongue up and down. She loved the taste of him, loved the feel of him in her mouth. He gently pushed her away from him as she licked her lips, longing for more of him. "You've done well slave, you deserve a reward." He pushed Aya back so she was lying down, then he spread her legs and started kissing down the inside of her thighs. "Now, my dirt little slave, I'm going to make you cum. You can make as much noise as you like and even play with your breasts if you wish, just as long as cum hard!" And with that his tongue found her wet pussy. Aya cried out as he sucked and licked her clit, pushing his fingers inside her. Her hands went to her breast, squeezing and groping them. She pinched her nipples and as she moaned, her hips moving in time with his hand. She was so close! Right on the edge of a powerful orgasm she knew would shake her whole body. He paused for a second, looked into her eyes and said "Cum for me slave!" Her hips bucked and she screamed letting wave after wave of pleasure wash over her until her body collapsed. Theo flipped her onto her front and pulled her hips up so she was all fours. He grabbed her hair and began rubbing his hard cock against her. "Now, my horny slave, your Master is going to fuck you so hard your going to be screaming! Let's see how many times my cock can make my slave cum!" And with that he shoved his rock hard cock into his slave. Aya screamed as he filled her, more waves of pleasure crashing over her. He grabbed her hip with one hand, still pulling her hair with the other and fucked her hard, spanking her ass again and again as she screamed! She matched his thrusts, pushing him further inside her. He pulled out of his slave's pussy and pushed her over, tying her hands to the bed and lifting her legs. Her pussy felt amazing as he pushed his cock inside her again. She pulled at restraints, aching to run her nails down his back. He fucked her as she came over and over again, her screams getting louder with each thrust. He could feel his own orgasm building. He looked at his slave screaming his name in front of him. She opened her eyes and for the first time that day looked into his. She kept her eyes locked on his and screamed "Oh Master! Fuck your slave so hard!" Theo moaned and pulled out of her just in time to cum all over her naked and shaking body. Ayaan And Joel In Montreal Birds of a feather flock together, as they say. I respectfully disagree. Opposites attract, and it often works wonders. Please allow me to elaborate on that, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Joel Saint-Vincent, and I was born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, to a Haitian immigrant father and a French Canadian mother. My folks, Lucas Saint-Vincent and Marlene Tremblay split when I was in the tenth grade, and I guess you could say that I come from a broken home. I'd like to think that my difficult upbringing in Montreal's north side toughened me up and prepared me for what was to come. At the age of twenty two, I'm a criminal justice student at Concordia University, and reside in Montreal-Nord, near Luke's Barbershop, which is run by my father and his old buddy Raphael Guillaume. They've known each other since they were young men on the island of Haiti. I'm real close to my Dad. You see, after the divorce, my mother moved in with her older brother, my uncle Jean, a racist white dude who never agreed with my parents interracial marriage and was glad of their split. Face it, white guys hate seeing black men with white women and as the result of such a union, I was a constant reminder of my Uncle Jean's complete and utter failure to prevent his sister Marlene, my mother, from crossing the racial line. The first time we met, the older white dude looked at me, a mixed-race youth, the way one looks at excrement. My very existence seemed to offend him. Uncle Jean was a real douche bag who treated me like dirt until I left home during the senior year of high school. I haven't been back since. As far as I'm concerned, my mother's side of the family can go to hell. At Concordia University, I began building a new life for myself. While attending my new school, I met a lot of people from all over the place. One of them was Ayaan Jawari, a lovely young woman from Somalia. Born in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and raised in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, Ayaan Jawari came to Concordia University to study business administration. The sight of this tall, voluptuous Somali sister set my heart ablaze with desire. I decided right then and there that I had to have her. Now, if you're a guy from another faith and culture, going after a Muslim woman for sexual and romantic reasons is ill-advised. Ayaan Jawari looked simply majestic in her bright green Hijab, dark robes and simple yet proud demeanor. The Somali gal strode through the Concordia University campus with her retinue of Hijab-wearing Somali ladies and Arab girlfriends like a queen with her handmaidens. Something about her set her apart from the other ladies of her faith and culture, and I was determined to find out exactly what. Once a man gets a woman inside his head, there's not much he can't do except pursue her. That's the way mother nature made us men. Now, I've been with quite a few ladies in my time. Not bragging, just being open and honest here. As a six-foot-one, lean and athletic, brown-skinned young man with curly black hair and lime-green eyes, I tend to get looked at a lot by the opposite sex, and the same sex as well. I'm a beautiful man of African and Caucasian descent, and guys like me tend to be exotically beautiful. I have fucked quite a few white girls and Chinese girls. Black girls aren't usually my thing because they have way too much attitude for a slick but at times impatient guy like myself. What's so different about Ayaan? I honestly don't know, but like I said before, I was determined to find out. That's why, I sort of, well, followed the lovely Miss Jawari around the Concordia University campus. I learned her schedule by heart, and discovered that Ayaan likes to hang around the campus library. I approached her one Friday evening, and casually asked her about her faith. Islam, that's every Muslim's favorite subject. I thought that Ayaan would see through my ruse but the tall, pretty lady smiled at me and asked me to sit down with her. Ayaan Jawari and I talked for hours, and we discussed a lot of things. What started out as a thinly veiled attempt at accosting her turned into a very lively conversation. Ayaan told me about her faith, Islam, and about her devotion to Allah, the Arabic name for the one true God. The same God worshipped by Jews and Christians, according to her. I considered that. I was raised Catholic but have lapsed as of late. I still believe in God, I just can't stomach the people I see in the church. We're all sinners, people should stop judging each other and just live, since only God can judge all of us. I shared this with Ayaan, and to my immense surprise, the young Somali woman smiled and nodded understandingly. Gently Ayaan laid her hand on mine. People can deceive you but God will never give up on you my brother, Ayaan said, her golden brown eyes boring into mine. I found it hard to hold her intense gaze, so I smiled nervously and nodded. At the end of our conversation, Ayaan surprised me by giving me her number....and a copy of the Koran. Whenever you have questions, the lady said in a serene voice. I smiled faintly, nodded and then picked up both the thick green-covered holy book and the paper on which Ayaan Jawari scribbled her number. I wished Ayaan a good night, and then walked out of the library, feeling weird. That night, as I lay on my bed, I wondered what the fuck just happened there. I set out to seduce this ingénue of a woman, this pious Muslim chick, and this broad blindsided me with her eloquence, her wisdom, and last but not least, her beauty. I should have kept away from this wonder of a woman, but I've never been that smart. I had to come back for more. And that's how Ayaan Jawari got me hooked. The thing most people don't realize about those beautiful and serene, Hijab-wearing and modestly robed Muslim women we see walking around is that they're women with romantic and sexual needs like all women. Oh, and they're also fairly manipulative. When I looked at Ayaan, all I saw was beauty, and a kind of innocence. I didn't realize that before long, this tall, voluptuous and regal Somali beauty would have me wrapped around her little finger. Seriously, I consider myself a player and I never even saw that shit coming. What the fuck? Ayaan and I began hanging out together, on campus at first, and then gradually we began to see each other off-campus as well. One day, I invited her to Chateau Nadege, an authentic Haitian restaurant located in south side Montreal, and we had a blast. I delighted in introducing Ayaan to Haitian cuisine. Tasty and spicy, the gorgeous Somali gal said, as she ate two plates of white rice with brown bean sauce, goat meat and washed it down with lemonade. Damn, this Somali chick can eat! I like that in a woman. After the restaurant, I took Ayaan for a walk, and we talked about our lives. Ayaan told me that she was falling in love with Montreal's racial diversity and vibrant culture. Ayaan decried her old life in Ottawa, which she described as a boring town full of bigoted bozos and small-minded xenophobic buffoons. I laughed when Ayaan spoke ill of Ottawa, a town which I detest, like most Montreal folks do. As far as I'm concerned, Montreal is the most beautiful city in North America. To hell with Ottawa, the rest of Canada and all the towns and cities in the States. I'm a proud Quebecer and don't apologize for despising all things Anglophone. C'est la vie, people! Ayaan laughed when I expressed my Quebecer pride, and told me to tone it down a bit. I looked into her amused face, and was blown away by her beauty. Somali women are a lovely lot, but even among them, Ayaan is in a class by herself. Tall, brown-skinned, voluptuous, large-breasted, wide-hipped and big-bottomed. Must be a whole lot of womanly goodness hiding underneath her conservative Islamic clothes. Ayaan's smile is as enchanting as the rest of her. Looking into Ayaan's amused eyes, I bit back a horny grin. Still, I cockily asked her what she meant by 'tone it down'. Ayaan shrugged, and then, without warning, the gorgeous Somali Hijabi threw her arms around yours truly and kissed me. I didn't see that one coming, folks. I am always the one who makes the first move with women. Never had a female make the first move on me. Sweet lips you got there, I told Ayaan, once we came up for air. The gorgeous Hijabi grinned sexily, and did something else I wasn't expecting. I jerked in surprise when Ayaan grabbed my ass cheeks, and squeezed them. Been wanting to do that for ages, Ayaan whispered into my ear. I looked at her, and smiled nervously. The smoldering fire I saw in Ayaan's eyes told me what I had already suspected. Underneath her piety and conservativeness, this tall, lovely Somali Muslim gal was passionate. Like me. I smiled, and took her hand in mine. Gently I brought Ayaan's hand to my lips. Good to know, I whispered into her ear. And then I pulled her close and kissed her. Hand in hand, Ayaan and I walked through the streets of Montreal. People looked at us, doubtless they weren't used to seeing couples like us. A tall, mixed-race dude of Haitian and French Canadian descent and a tall, voluptuous and gorgeous yet conservatively attired Somali Hijabi. Even for a place as cosmopolitan as Montreal, Ayaan Jawari and I were something else. As we embarked on the relationship of a lifetime, I knew that wonderful and exciting times awaited us both. Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Bitch There are certain things I just cannot tolerate, and the everyday racism of older white Canadians toward immigrants of color like myself is one of them. My name is Ayaan Ismail and I'm a young Somali-Canadian Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I attend Algonquin College and work as a cleaner part-time at one of Ottawa's university campuses. A lot of people think that cleaners and security guards are a lower form of life, that people in such lines of work don't deserve the basic respect owed to all human beings. I hate people who think like that. Seriously, a human being's worth isn't determined by his or her education level or how much money they make. We're all human at the end of the day. People need to remember that! The other day, I was walking around the university campus after hours, cleaning the vast complex floor by floor, room by room. There are dozens of us cleaners, mostly people of African, Latino and Caribbean descent. The guy in charge is an old white dude named Fergus, who's got back problems and a really nasty attitude. I hate this little creep with a fiery passion, and the condescending, disrespectful way in which he speaks to the cleaning crew irks the hell out of me. So here I was, pushing a cart and walking around the southernmost building on this vast university campus, when I felt a presence. I turned around, and lo and behold, there stood Fergus, leering at me like only a creepy old white dude can. I glared at Fergus and asked him what he was looking at. The old bozo smiled wickedly and then told me that in his day, women knew their place and that I had quite a mouth on him. As I stared at him indignantly, Fergus crept closer to me, until we were inches from each other. That's when the creepy old white dude called me a towel head to my face, and asked me if my hair was nappy under my Hijab. Oh, and then Fergus laid a hand on my shoulder. When he did that, I lost it. I didn't even think about it. I simply reacted. Translation? I slapped the hell out of Fergus, and the old white bozo stopped smirking, and pressed his hand against his reddening face. There was surprise and anger on his face. I looked at him with haughtiness and defiance, and then walked away. The last thing I needed was to waste any more time dealing with this creep, or the likes of him. That day, I walked off the work site, after telling my immediate supervisor, an old black dude named Farley, what Fergus had done. What do you think Farley said? The loser made excuses for Fergus bad behavior, and told me not to make a fuss about it. I called Farley a coward, then walked away. I left everything there, and caught the bus leaving the university campus. It was eleven seventeen in the evening, and I was scheduled to leave the school around seven in the morning, along with the rest of the overnight cleaning crew. Nope, I just headed home. I made it to my place around midnight, and went straight to bed. I felt like showering because I felt unclean, but try as I might, I couldn't stop crying as I lay in bed. I kept thinking about Fergus words to me and his behavior. I knew exactly how this would play out. The guy in charge of the maintenance crew at the university, Fergus boss, is an old white dude named Connor or something and he would definitely side with Fergus. These bigoted old white dudes tend to stick together, especially in the City of Ottawa. What's a brown gal to do in such a situation? When I woke up the next morning, I did my morning prayers, and asked Allah, the one true God, for guidance and fortitude in the day ahead. I had eleven messages on my Blackberry, most of them from work. I only replied to one message. The one from my beloved boyfriend, Adam Stephens, the biracial stud who stole my heart. I smiled and told Adam that everything was alright, and since it was Tuesday, I went to the movies with him later that day. Adam Stephens is my lifeline in this topsy-turvy world that I live in. I'm frustrated with my studies at Algonquin College because I want to be done with school, get my degree and start working for either the Canadian government or the private sector. Whichever will actually hire me first. One of my friends, Fatoumatta Hassan, graduated from Algonquin College with a bachelor's degree in applied business in 2013 and still can't find work in her field. That really angers and bugs me. Fatoumatta Hassan has a business degree from an accredited Canadian school, to me, a person with such a degree ought to be able to find just about anywhere. The gal is originally from Djibouti and speaks English and French fluently. Oh, and she's a Canadian citizen, just in case the cynics among you are wondering. Why isn't anyone in Ottawa hiring Fatoumatta? Gee, could it because she's a tall brown chick with a Hijab? Heaven knows lots of businesses in the Canadian Capital offer jobs to white chicks with credentials far inferior to my good friend Fatoumatta Hassan's. Yeah, girls who wear the Hijab make white folks in Ottawa uncomfortable and they discriminate against us at work, at school and pretty much everywhere else. As you can see, I hate these fuckers. I went to the movies with Adam Stephens, and my boo and I watched the flick Into The Woods at the Silver City movie theater in the east end of Ottawa. It's our favorite theater, after all. Throughout the movie, Adam kept asking me if everything was alright, and I kept nodding and smiling at him. Try as I might, I couldn't forget about the incident last night. That's why I decided to fight back against Fergus and the racist establishment that allows creepy old white guys like him to mistreat those different from themselves, people like me. After the movie, I went to the university campus, and marched into the office of Connor, the guy in charge of the maintenance crew. I sat down and told him what Fergus had done, and informed him that my next stop would be to go to the Ottawa police station on Elgin Street and file a sexual assault claim against Fergus...if the university campus refused to take action against the creep. The old white dude looked paler than usual, and told me he'd deal with Fergus personally. I got Fergus racist ass fired, and obtained a restraining order against him from the Ottawa police. Not bad, eh? For those of you who think Hijab-wearing Muslim girls are soft and sweet or helpless, don't fuck with us. We fight back with a vengeance when we're wronged. Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Broad Eating black female ass is good for a brother's health, I thought wickedly to myself as I sat on my boo Adam Stephens handsome face, smothering him with my thick Somali derriere. My name is Ayaan Ismail and I'm a young Somali-Canadian Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Got one helluva story to share with you today. I'm teaching my beloved Adam the finer points of eating ass, and the biracial stud takes to it like a cat takes to hunting mice. More fun for me, eh? I licked my lips as I felt Adam Stephens tongue worming its way up my asshole. I love having my ass licked and Adam is wickedly good at it. I squished his face under my big butt, and I knew he absolutely loved it. Adam loves my ass, and I wanted to put his fondness for my booty to the test. Sure, the brother likes to kiss my bum and heaven knows he likes sticking his thick dick up my ass, but what about eating my ass? My lover Adam Stephens is definitely an ass man, just like every black man I've ever met or even heard of. Born of an Afro-Caribbean immigrant father and a white Canadian mother, the dude is mixed and is the same shade as Hollywood stud Vin Diesel, only with slightly more 'black' features. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't be down with eating my ass, but Adam was totally cool with it. I'm happy to discover this about my man. Earlier, Adam and I came home after watching 50 Shades Of Grey at the Silver City movie theater in the east end of Ottawa. Seriously, it was a waste of time and money. As a woman who indulges in both the dominant and the submissive aspect of BDSM, I find the character Christian Grey stale, boring, and utterly unbelievable. Seriously, I wouldn't touch this bozo with a ten and a half foot pole. In a weird way, the guy who plays Christian Grey the BDSM freak reminds of the dude from American Psycho, a far better movie with a more believable plotline if you ask me. Still, the movie did make me kind of horny though. People were surprised to see me, a Hijab-wearing Muslim woman, at this borderline pornographic movie screening. The crowd inside the theater was mostly female and white. Oh, well. Let the haters stare all they want. My boo Adam and I had ourselves an okay night at the movies, and a far better night afterwards. It's funny how even a bad movie with erotic themes can get our juices flowing. The human body is a wonderful thing, isn't it? As soon as we got to his dorm, Adam and I got our freak on. I lay on the bed, clad only in a bra, panties, and my Hijab of course. For some reason, it really, really turns Adam on when I dress like this. The gorgeous biracial stud licked me from my head to my toes, and then, he rolled a condom on that thick dick of his and showed me what he was made of. Adam is a passionate man, but he really outdid himself this time. Adam put me on all fours, spanked my thick Somali derriere, and then fingered my wet pussy before licking my asshole. I spread my ass cheeks wide open and moaned in pleasure as Adam licked my asshole. My sexy stud then grabbed some Aloe cream, lubricated my hole good and proper, then pressed his condom-covered dick against my backdoor. At this point, as you can imagine, I was more than ready to get fucked. Adam Stephens teased me a bit by rubbing his long and thick, decidedly hard dick against my butt hole without sticking it in. I turned around and shot him a look of anger and frustration. Adam flashed me that fearless smile of his, then nodded and finally did what he should have done in the first place. The mixed stud worked his dick into my hungry butt hole, and I sighed in pure bliss as he penetrated me. Ah, it's good to have my ass full of dick again. I began rocking back and forth, loving the feel of Adam Stephens dick in my asshole. Something about anal sex simply gets my juices flowing, folks. Just thinking about it is enough to get my pussy all wet sometimes, I swear. Adam thinks it's because, since I'm a Muslim woman and all, I get off on the fact that anal sex is considered haram or forbidden by the strict rules of Islam. Honestly? I like anal sex because it feels good, the naughtiness factor has worn off a long time. Adam Stephens placed those strong hands of his on my wide hips, holding me into place as he fucked me in the ass. Since my boo was holding me into place, what's a freaky, naughty mama with a big booty to do? A wicked idea shot through my head like a lightning bolt. I'm going to twerk! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I, the freaky Hijab-wearing chick from Somalia, am going to frigging twerk during anal sex! I began actually shaking my ass while getting fucked in the ass. I briefly turned around, and saw a look of lust mixed with surprise, nope, make that utter mesmerisation, on Adam Stephens face. I winked at him and licked my lips, and that just about drove Adam nuts. I continued twerking with Adam's dick up my bum, and at the same time, I concentrated, willing my anal muscles to grip Adam's dick. Tight as a vise, that's how my ass gripped Adam's dick, and the mixed stud couldn't take it for long. Just like I knew he would, Adam cried out and came, and I sighed happily. Adam just about fell on top of me, moaning and completely losing it. I smiled victoriously. Am I good or what? Adam Stephens and I had a lot of fun that night, and after the gorgeous biracial stud fucked me, I made him eat my asshole. After devouring my ass, Adam told me that my Somali booty hole tasted absolutely wonderful. Well, as you can imagine, folks, those words melted my heart when I heard them. Adam and I hugged tightly, then we fell asleep. It was a GOOD night! Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Cutie I love Friday nights, and not just because it's everyone's payday. Nope, for me and close to two billion Muslims worldwide, it's our holy day. Jummah Mubarak is what we say to each other. Tonight, when I went to my favorite Masjid, my boyfriend Adam Stephens asked me if he could come with me. As a Muslim woman, what do you think my answer was? A resounding yes! My name is Ayaan Ismail and I'm a young Somali-Canadian woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. For the past few months, I've been dating a fine young man, Adam Stephens, who hails from a small town on the other side of Ontario. Adam and I come from different worlds. I was born in Somalia and raised in Ontario, Canada. Adam was born to an Afro-Caribbean immigrant father and a white Canadian mother. He was raised in the Christian faith and I'm a proud Muslim woman. You wouldn't think a couple like us would end up together, but against all odds, we stuck it out. I've never imposed my faith on Adam, I merely asked him to respect it. I have much respect for the Abrahamic faiths, which include Islam, Judaism and Christianity. Adam considers himself a lapsed Christian and never showed any interest in Islam until that fateful Friday night. There I was, clad in my Hijab and traditional long robe, ready to head to the sisters entrance of a certain mosque located in the east end of Ottawa, and my favorite biracial stud stunned me by asking to come with me. Well, I sat Adam down and told him a few basic things about my faith, namely how one behaves inside the Masjid, which we Muslims consider to be holy ground. Adam nodded, and smiled, and insisted on going with me. Off we went, hand in hand, a tall young biracial man and his tall, curvy, Hijab-wearing Muslim girlfriend. We looked totally cute together! I was bubbling with excitement because that's every Muslim woman's dream. To head to the Masjid with the man that I love, to be able to show to both man and God that my love for this man is real. For I do love Adam, the charming and at times infuriating young man who stole my heart. My sweet Adam, who makes me melt. I went to the sisters door, and greeted my fellow Muslim women of all hues joyfully. Nadia Osman is tall, bronze-skinned and slender, and hails from Morocco. The gal attends La Cite Collegiale and recently married a Somali brother named Yousef. Amina Khalif is short and chunky, born and raised in the City of Montreal to Somali immigrant parents, and recently moved to Ottawa with her Egyptian-Canadian husband Tariq, who works in real estate. I am particularly close to one of the sisters. Indeed, we've bonded in recent times over our shared interests. Mariam Hanaffi is Somali-Canadian, and her boyfriend Jean-Bernard Guillot recently converted to Islam. They make for one lovely couple, and honestly, I am kind of jealous of her because Mariam's getting married at the end of the year. How cool is that? I swear, sometimes I think I go to the Masjid as much for the social atmosphere as for the usual religious reasons. The Masjid isn't just a religious entity, it's also a community center for us Muslims. For me, it's home away from home and at last, I can share it with Adam Stephens, the man that I love. That night, though, Adam had a surprise for me. One that I honestly hadn't expected, seriously. Imagine my surprise when Abu, the Imam of our Masjid, and some of the elders of the Ummah, stepped forward and told us that we would be welcoming a new brother in the Islamic faith. My eyes went wide when Adam Stephens stepped forward, smiled at everyone, raised his right hand and uttered the Shahada. My heart skipped a beat when Adam said the words that would forever bind him to Islam. My boo acknowledged the oneness of Allah, the one true God, and that our Prophet Mohammed was his apostle. The entire Masjid welcomed Adam to the Islamic faith, to thunderous applause. I couldn't believe my eyes or my ears. Had Adam been studying Islam without telling me? I couldn't wait for the service to be over, and once outside, I waited for Adam to emerge from the brothers entrance. I saw him standing among a group of young Muslim men, who were smiling and congratulating him. It wasn't proper of me but I couldn't wait. I rushed to Adam, and, right in front of everyone, I threw myself into his arms and kissed him. Yup, I kissed my man right in front of everyone, mere steps from the sacred Masjid, on holy ground! See? Love makes you do crazy things, folks. The other people around us didn't mind, though. In fact, they even applauded! That night, I gave Adam Stephens, my beloved stud ( and future husband ) a warm welcome to Islam. Seriously, I think I fucked Adam so hard I left the brother with a sore dick. Not that he seemed to mind, though. Seriously, as soon as we got back to his dorm on the university campus, I practically ripped Adam's clothes off. Seriously, I wanted him so badly. I got on my knees and sucked Adam's long and thick, uncircumcised dick with gusto. Now, as a Muslim woman, I'm technically supposed to be appalled that he's uncut but I don't give a fuck if my man is cut or uncut as long as he can fuck me right. Besides, I'm a Somali female and where I'm from, they routinely circumcise both sexes. I'm against ALL circumcision because I find it barbaric and unnecessary. And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to suck my man's tasty caramel-hued dick. I licked Adam's balls and sucked his dick until he warned me that he was about to cum, and when he did, I gulped down every last drop of his cum. Adam and I got our freak on after, and I climbed on top of him, impaling my wet, hungry pussy on his hard dick. Adam smacked my ass and buried his hard dick in my pussy. I wrapped my arms lovingly around my sweet Adam as we made love. Locking eyes with Adam, I kissed him and welcomed him into my core. Adam sucked on my tits as he fucked me, and we cried out in unison. Much later, Adam Stephens and I lay in bed, side by side. My boo told me how he'd become fascinated by Islam since we met, and told his parents about his growing love both for me and the Islamic faith. I smiled at Adam and told him I loved him, and I absolutely meant it. You've got no idea how happy I feel, lying in my man's arms. We've got our whole lives ahead of us. Adam is definitely the one for me. The one I will introduce to my family, and the one I will marry. Insha'Allah. Do wish us luck. Peace. Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Gal As Salam Alaikum, people. How are you? Ayaan Ismail here. Everyone's favorite naughty Somali gal, college student and part-time cleaning lady. Got another wicked story to share with you kind folks. My boyfriend Adam Stephens and I decided to leave the City of Ottawa, Ontario, and spend a few days in the City of Montreal, Quebec. Just call it our holiday if you will. Too bad we didn't spend much time out of our hotel room during the first couple of days. Adam and I were too busy fucking over every inch of the place. We're a passionate couple, and I mean this in every way you can think of. And then some. Adam and I are as different from each other as can be. It's part of the fun for us, come to think of it. I am a Somali-Canadian woman and a proud Muslim, born in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and raised in Ontario. Adam Stephens was born in Canada, to a Black father who emigrated from the Caribbean and a white Canadian mother. We met, and connected, and we're happy together. A lot of Muslim girls overlook perfectly decent men everyday because they're from other faiths. Muslim guys on the other hand can date and marry girls of any faith. I'm not foolish enough to do that. I live my life my way. During the first two days that we spent in Montreal, Adam and I found new pathways to pleasure. For some reason, Adam is quite turned on by the sight of me stark naked...with my Hijab on and nothing else. I find it sexy too, and there's nothing quite like having my pussy licked by my favorite biracial Christian stud while I've still got my Hijab on. It's a lot of fun, and I swear, I'm almost addicted to it now. Adam Stephens is addicted to the taste of my Somali cunt, and I am thrilled to hear it. I lay on the bed, with my legs spread, and my sexy stud got between my legs and licked my pussy like a hungry man. Afterwards, I got on all fours, spread my plump Somali butt cheeks wide open and told Adam to get busy. Translation? I want to feel his tongue in my asshole! Adam began happily munching on my sweaty butt hole, and I giggled in pleasure as he eagerly licked me up. The two of us had a lot of wicked fun over the next few hours, and after Adam finished polishing my gorgeous Somali derriere with his tongue, I let him fuck me in the ass. Anal sex can be a wonderful experience...when done right. First, Adam lubricated me good and proper with some Aloe cream, and also applied some on that thick mixed dick of his. Then, he fingered and licked my butt hole some more, before I declared myself ready for some ass fucking. Adam pretty much took it from here. Adam Stephens eased his dick into my hungry asshole slowly, just the way I liked it. Anal sex isn't something any of us should rush through. Messes and injuries can occur if you do. Fortunately for me, Adam likes to take his sweet time as he works that dick of his into my asshole. I lay on my back, legs in the air, as Adam began pounding away at me, slowly but surely drilling his dick into my butt hole. I lay there, rubbing my tits with one hand and fingering my wet cunt with the other as Adam Stephens filled my asshole with his dick. I locked eyes with Adam as he fucked me, and smiled contentedly. For I saw nothing but pure, undiluted love in those eyes of his. Adam fucked me good, getting that dick of his to the bottom of my butt hole, one inch at a time. I cried out in pleasure as I got fucked in the ass, and I welcomed the deliciously hot pain down below. It was absolutely fantastic! Adam Stephens slowly pulled his long and thick mixed dick out of my asshole, and that's when, um, something kind of gross or funny ( depending on your viewpoint ) happened. What happened, you may wonder? I farted the moment Adam Stephens dick plopped out of my asshole. A loud, wet fart. Shoot, I did NOT see that one coming! I looked up at Adam Stephens, feeling so embarrassed I thought I could die right then and there. Adam laughed and told me not to worry. Then my favorite biracial Christian stud squeezed out a loud fart right in front of me, and we both burst out laughing. Adam and I are perfect for each other! Later, I thanked him good and proper for fucking my ass...by fucking his with my new strap-on dildo. I look really hot wearing a strap-on dildo and a Hijab, according to my beloved boo, Adam Stephens. It's the mixture of female dominance and Islamic modesty that turns him on, I guess. Adam told me that he thought all Muslim girls were submissive, until he met me. Damn right Muslim girls aren't submissive! Even if a Muslim lady appears submissive, don't believe that she'll submit to every male that comes along. Seriously, I wish people would get their fact straights. Muslims of both sexes should bow down before the Creator. In Islam, females aren't considered inferior to males, that's just cultural sexism talking. I am a strong and dominant woman and a proud Muslim. Don't like it? Feel bothered by it? Kiss my thick Somali derriere, thank you very much. Without further ado, I donned the strap-on dildo, rolled a condom on it, and lubricated it good and proper with plenty of Aloe cream. I did the same to Adam Stephens sweet ass, after making him spread his butt cheeks for me. I pressed the dildo against Adam's ass, gripped his hips for balance, and thrust forward. A gasp escaped Adam's lips as I penetrated his bum with my strap-on dildo. This is going to be so much fun. Adam Stephens butt is sweet, and I delighted in fucking it good and proper with my strap-on dildo. I love dominating my sexy biracial Christian stud like this. Adam is taller and stronger than me, and I love overpowering him, Femdom-style. To hear Adam cry out my name as I pleasured him turned me on like you would not believe. I pegged Adam until he begged for mercy. A fine way to start our holiday in Montreal, eh? Over the next few days, Adam Stephens and I explored the lovely metropolis of Montreal and got to know this magical city. The town is quite diverse, and that's how I like it. Also, I'm glad that we're far away from Ottawa, where my friends and family live. I'm a Muslim woman in a relationship with a Christian man. Something that's forbidden by the rules of Islam. I've got to be careful...almost to the point of paranoia. It's my life on the line, after all. Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Girl According to some of the most sacred tenets of Islam, anal sex is considered haram or forbidden. For a Muslim woman to engage in this is wicked. I feel quite guilty for indulging in this type of sexual activity with my biracial Christian lover Adam Stephens, but I can’t stop because it feels so damn good. Seriously, the young Black man who rescued me from a rude bigot at the university campus changed my world in more ways than I would have thought. My name is Ayaan Ismail, a young Somali Canadian Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Got a helluva lusty story to share with you today. I used to feel self-conscious about my body as a five-foot-nine, curvy and dark-skinned, big-bottomed and conservatively attired, Hijab-wearing Muslim woman in a land that worships skinny white bitches. Not anymore. Adam has taught me to love my body, and I can’t thank him enough for it. Adam Stephens is something else. The six-foot-tall, ruggedly handsome and brilliant stud from the City of London, Ontario, is spectacular in bed, ladies and gentlemen. Last night, Adam showed me some new and wickedly interesting pathways to pleasure. First, Adam laid me on his king-sized bed and proceeded to worship that body of mine. Adam kissed me and then licked and fondled my tits, and then made his way to the space between my thighs. I held my breath as Adam buried his face between my thick thighs and licked that hairy cunt of mine. I had just come back from running errands and hadn’t even showered yet but Adam told me he wanted me and I honestly can’t resist this gorgeous, caramel-hued stud. Adam licked my pussy and fingered me, causing me to moan and writhe on the bed as he basically set my world on fire like only he can. I cried out Adam’s name as that wicked tongue of his snaked into my cunt, teasing my womanly folds. I shuddered and moaned as Adam pleasured me, and for the second time that day, I experienced a burning hot sensation. Adam often makes me orgasmic, for he knows how to awaken that fire down below, if you know what I mean. When I came, my cunt squirting hot girly cum all over his handsome face, Adam licked up every single drop of my womanly goodness, as he calls it. Afterwards, I looked at Adam, flashed him a lusty grin and spread my thick, shapely thighs invitingly. For I could tell Adam was still horny and to be honest, so was I. Ever since we made love for the first time, I’ve become addicted to Adam and that hot, masculine and strong body of his. I love the feel of his hard body on top of mine. I love the feel of his hard dick deep in my cunt. I love making love with Adam, the man who changed my world. So you can imagine my surprise when Adam told me that he didn’t feel like sticking that long and thick, uncircumcised dick of his deep inside my smoking hot Somali pussy. I was miffed, until Adam told me that he wanted to eat my ass instead. I was surprised, to say the least but then I thought it might be fun so I decided to give it a go. A wide grin spread across Adam’s handsome face, and I went to the shower to clean up, and then came back into his bedroom, ready to rumble. Happily I got on all fours, and spread my thick and round Somali ass cheeks wide open, exposing a very obvious target. Eagerly Adam got behind me, and then the gorgeous stud proceeded to smother my big brown butt with kisses, and licked me all over. I smiled and giggled in ecstasy as I felt Adam’s tongue working its way into my asshole, and he proceeded to eat my ass like it was the tastiest thing he’d ever put his mouth on. And I absolutely loved it! After Adam basically polished my asshole and big butt cheeks with his tongue, I was ready for more. That’s when Adam asked me point blank if I’d ever had anything up my ass before. As sexually adventurous as I’ve become since meeting Adam and falling in love with him, I had to say no. I’ve only had toilet paper near that thick Somali ass of mine, thank you very much. Good Muslim sisters don’t stick things up their butts. And I’m a good Muslim sister…who’s in love and lust with a very naughty Christian stud. Adam smiled and told me he would show me wonders, and did he ever! First, Adam made me spread my thick Somali ass cheeks wide open and then he applied lubricant to it. I gasped as I felt the Aloe cream on my ass. Now, in poorly written erotic novellas and porno flicks, there’s always some KY Jelly handy when a guy and a lady are about to engage in butt sex. In real life? Not so much. Adam and I used Aloe cream since that’s all he had at his apartment, but it worked just fine for us. Without further ado, Adam got behind me, and pressed his huge dick against my backdoor. I took a deep breath, then nodded at him to proceed. Adam slowly and gently pushed his dick into my ass. Even though he was careful and gentle, it hurt a bit going in. I must admit I was a bit nervous. For two main reasons. One, I thought that anal sex would hurt. Two, I thought I might do something embarrassing like accidentally fart or shit with Adam’s dick up my butt. Adam was patient with me, and I trusted him, so we took our sweet time. Slowly but surely, Adam worked most of his dick into my ass. Even with the lubricant, Adam’s dick felt huge in my butt. Like most Somali girls, I’ve got a nice big butt but my asshole is quite tight since, well, I was an anal virgin up until that point. Adam wasn’t lying when he said butt sex was fun, and once I relaxed a bit, I began to actually enjoy myself. We went at it for about thirty minutes, which is a LONG time to have a dick up your butt, ladies and gentlemen. I winced in pain as Adam pulled his dick out of me, and used a towel to wipe himself clean. I never asked him what he was wiping and he didn’t say. My boo simply pulled me close, kissed me tenderly and then we went to the washroom together. Under the hot shower, Adam and I cleaned each other up. And then we went back to bed, and I slept until my evening shift at the university campus where I worked as a cleaner. I overslept and missed the bus, which kind of sucked because the manager of the cleaning crew at the university is a mean Mexican lady and she doesn’t cut us any slack. I’m the only Hijab-wearing female on the mostly female cleaning crew, so this broad seems to have a problem with me. Sensing my worry, Adam offered to help without even being asked. Isn’t he awesome? Like the angel from Jannah that he is, Adam came to my aid without being prompted to do so. I love this guy something fierce, seriously! Adam gave me a ride to campus, and kissed me passionately as I stepped out of his car. I waved my boo goodbye, then went to work. Had an extra bounce in my step that night, according to my co-workers. I laughed when they said that to me. Don't know if it's from the joy of being in Adam's life or from having his dick in my ass. Your guess is as good as mine! Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Lady Stop making assumptions about a woman just because of how she dresses or behaves in public, ladies and gentlemen. Seriously. The name is Ayaan Ismail and I'm a young Black Canadian Muslim woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I was born in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and lived there until the twelfth summer of my life. That's when my parents, Mariam and Ali Ismail moved to Canada with our little family. We moved to the City of Ottawa, and have been in this town ever since. It's been nine years and I consider myself as Canadian as anyone. I speak French and English fluently, on top of my Somali native tongue, and I want to go far in life. I attend Algonquin College, where I'm studying to become an accountant, and when I'm not in class, at home or at my favorite masjid, I'm at the university campus where I work as a cleaner. The things I've seen as a cleaner on a major Canadian university campus simply boggles the mind, folks. Friday nights are the worst for us overnight cleaners because of all the drunk students, male and female, and the fact that those among them who can't handle their liquor retch repeatedly on the washroom floors AFTER I've cleaned them up. The girls are the worst because they can't handle their liquor, so the ladies washroom is always full of puke. I hate it when they do that shit, pardon my French! Still, I can't complain because it's because of my job as a cleaner, tough and demanding though it may be, that I met the love of my life. I was cleaning the university library's busiest floor, the first floor, pushing a cart and walking toward the washrooms when some foolish male student bumped into me. The dude's elbows hit my side, hard enough to hurt, and I winced in pain. The fool continued on his merry way, as if nothing had happened. Pain shot through me, and not just physically. You see, when you're a cleaner, people treat you as though you were something other than a human being. Every building in the world needs cleaning, and cleaning crews work very hard to maintain everything from Parliament Hill to the frigging White House, and yet people like me get no respect. Well, the bozo's rudeness hadn't gone unnoticed, and out of the blue, a tall and well-dressed young Black man walked up to the chubby white dude who elbowed me and told him to watch where he was going. The chubby white dude stared, dumbfounded as the well-dressed brother lectured him about bumping into people without apologizing. The white dude looked like he wanted to say something but the sight of a towering, angry young Black man in front of him made him keep his mouth shut. Lo and behold, the rude white dude apologized to me, then he took off. The tall, well-dressed and decidedly handsome brother approached me and asked me if I was alright. I looked at him, smiled and nodded. For some reason, even though I typically don't shake hands with males because of fourteen centuries of Islamic tradition, I impulsively told him my name and held out my hand for him to shake. Thus I met Adam Stephens, a tall brother of Jamaican and Euro-Canadian descent, originally from the City of London, Ontario. Born and raised in London, Adam was new to Ottawa and was studying business administration at the university campus where I work as a cleaner. Adam seemed very concerned for my well-being, and then he offered me his number. I hesitated then took it. Adam told me that I should report the rude bozo who hurt me to campus security, and that he'd be a witness if I needed one. I thanked Adam for his chivalry and generosity, and he smiled and walked away. Cute butt, I thought with a lusty grin. When I went home that night, I had a big dreamy smile on my face and my mom asked me if I met someone. I smiled and nodded, but wouldn't elaborate any further. Now, I did call Adam, but not to stir up trouble for the rude white dude from the university campus library. Nope, I called Adam to thank him for his kindness. The brother answered on the first click, and after a few pleasantries, asked me if I wanted to grab coffee with him. Typically, I don't do this sort of thing with males, as I said before, but I sensed Adam was a decent guy and decided to take a chance on him. Adam and I met at the Rideau Center food court, and had some coffee, and we talked for a long time. I wanted to know more about this tall, beautiful and intelligent young man. Adam's life story fascinated me. His father Vincent Stephens is Black, and originally from the island of Jamaica. His mother Deirdre Lucas is White, originally from the City of London, Ontario. Apparently they met at York University in the 1980s, got married and had Adam and his brother Benjamin. Wow, I thought. If Adam here is any indication, then good looks must run in the family. Adam asked me if I wanted to chill, and I volunteered to show him around the City of Ottawa, since I knew the Capital like the back of my hand. We began hanging out, casually at first. Just two friends enjoying each other's company. Adam was always friendly and courteous, a cool, friendly and easygoing guy. The brother was always generous and respectful, and I thought the girls at his university campus must be crazy if they don't get their hooks into him. Adam told me that he was somewhat of a loner, being from a small town, and Ottawa was an odd environment for him. When Adam shared this with me, we were sitting inside the Tim Horton's located near the main branch of the Ottawa library downtown. I smiled and gently touched Adam's hand, and told him that I'd do my best to make his stay in Ottawa as pleasant as I can. Adam smiled at me, and my heart skipped a beat, for he looked at me in a way nobody has ever looked at me before. Then, he took my face into his hands and kissed me. And I kissed him back! Thus, Adam and I shared our first kiss. Grinning, we walked out of the Tim Horton's hand in hand, and I swear, I felt so happy I could jump! I'm a Hijab-wearing, long-skirted and traditionally attired, Koran-quoting Somali woman. People forget that I'm a young woman with the same needs and desires as all other women thanks to my Islamic faith and my style of dress. Adam saw right through all that, and reached out to who I truly am. And I can honestly I love him for it. Three months after we began dating, Adam and I made love for the first time. We were coming back from the movies, and he had to grab something from his apartment to bring to some friends on campus. As Adam struggled to lift the oversized musical equipment, I impulsively slapped his cute butt, then he turned to look at me and then...well, then we got our freak on. I kissed Adam hungrily, and the gorgeous mixed stud pulled me to him. Taking me into his arms, Adam carried me to the bed, and once there, I showed him what I've got. I'm around five-foot-nine, a chubby and dark-skinned, big-bottomed young woman in a country that worships skinny blondes. I've been known to feel self-conscious about my body for many reasons. Adam told me I was beautiful and I smiled, and happily undressed before him. Adam kissed my lips, my breasts and caressed my big butt, then he laid me on the bed and proceeded to lick me from my head to my toes. Adam sucked on my tits and fingered my cunt, his fingers sliding in and out of me. Adam then buried his face between my thick thighs and licked my pussy hungrily. I cried out his name and shuddered all over, ecstatic as Adam pleasured me with his mouth and fingers. Seriously, the brother is good at what he does! Adam finished pleasuring me, and then I feasted my eyes on his tall, strongly built and athletic body as he undressed before me. My eyes checked out his strong chest, washboard abs and his muscular body. Hungrily I drew him to me, and touched his long and thick dick, which was uncircumcised. I'm a Muslim woman and uncut dicks are supposed to be anathema to me but I shrugged and caressed Adam's dick, stroking him gently. When Adam finally put it to me, I squealed in delight and wrapped my arms around him. Adam thrust into me, stabbing my cunt with his thick dick. I cried out in pleasure mixed with deliciously hot pain as I experienced lovemaking for the first time. Passionately Adam and I went at it, and then, I came for the first time as his thick dick filled my cunt, triggering an orgasm which rocked me to my core. I cried out, passionately, orgasmic for the first time, and Adam held me into his strong, manly arms. Adam and I remained in bed, passionately embraced, for hours. I didn't want this moment to end, being safe in the arms of the young man I love. The fact that we're from different backgrounds doesn't matter to me. I'm a Sunni Muslim woman and Adam is from a Methodist Christian family. I don't give a damn. I'm in love for the first time, and I want to be happy. Anyone who has a problem with that can kiss my thick Somali ass. Got it? Cool! Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Lass I am definitely going to have to wash that new Hijab after my boo Adam Stephens got cum all over it when he came. Seriously, I wish the cute biracial brother I love so much had more self-control. To be fair, I was sucking his dick something fierce, and I know he can't resist me when I stick my fingers up his butt while going down on him. So the whole thing is at least partially my fault, I guess. After I finished polishing his dick with my mouth, Adam pulled me on top of him and wrapped his strong, manly arms around me. We kissed passionately and Adam thrust his long and thick manhood into my cunt. I gasped as he entered me, welcoming this most wonderful of intrusions. Adam knows how to pleasure a woman, let me tell you. Smacking my thick Somali rump playfully, Adam buried his dick in my pussy. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and began rocking as I rode him. Hard and fast we went at it, making love with a deep urgency. Our screams of pleasure filled the apartment, and I cried out Adam's name in the guttural Somali tongue, the age-old language of my people. Adam put me on all fours, and fucked me like this. Doggy style is honestly my favorite position, and when Adam yanked off my Hijab, grabbed my hair and started pulling on it while slamming his dick into my cunt, I howled in pleasure like a crazy woman. I squealed for Adam to fuck me harder, and did he ever! Afterwards, we lay side by side on the bed, holding hands and smiling. It was a good day and a good lay. My name is Ayaan Ismail, a young Somali-Canadian Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'm head over heels in love with a tall, sinfully sexy brother named Adam Stephens. He's of Afro-Caribbean and European descent, and I am one hundred percent Somali. I am Muslim and my boo is a lapsed Christian but we're happy together and choose to focus on our love for each other, rather than our cultural and religious differences. Adam and I recently returned from our holiday in the City of Montreal, Quebec, and let me tell you, we had lots of fun in Canada's most romantic metropolis. We got back to Ottawa, the most boring city known to man, but that's okay because we had our fun. I returned to Algonquin College, where I'm studying and Adam returned to the university where we met. I'm part of the overnight cleaning crew there. The other night, something happened. I always knew that one day, our romance might be discovered. I'm pretty sure the university administration might frown upon having a young woman from the cleaning crew dating one of the male students, that's part of the reason why Adam and I kept our relationship a secret. The other reason? I am a Somali woman, and Adam is definitely NOT a Somali man. The brother's not even Muslim. If my family were to find out, I'd be deader than Disco. As much as I love my Muslim faith, certain aspects of it irk me. Like the fact that Muslim guys can date and marry women of any faith but us Muslim girls must limit ourselves only to Muslim men. When a Muslim gal dares to break that rule and cross the religious line in the name of love, her life is forfeit. Trust me, most Muslims will abide by this rule, even though a few will admit that it's unfair. Still, there are times when pretending not to love someone hurts so much that I'd risk life itself not to have to go through that sort of pain. My first night back at work, something happened. I was walking through the atrium, on my way to the cleaners bureau in an adjacent building when guess who I ran into? Adam, on his way back to his dorm after spending the afternoon studying in the library. There we were, lovebirds, surrounded by our respective peoples. I was with my friends Ibrahim and Nadia, who are part of the university cleaning crew, and Adam was walking with a couple of his male friends. Our eyes met, and I swear, everything in me wanted to go to him. Adam saw me too, and for a moment, he froze. I smiled at him and nodded, and after a brief hesitation, Adam did the same. My heart winced, but I kept on walking. I told myself that it was for the greater good. That didn't make the hurt go away, nor did it lessen the pain I felt in my chest. I briefly looked at Adam as he headed down the hall, and I caught him looking back at me. I waved, and he smiled and did the same. I hurried up to catch up with Ibrahim and Nadia, and when my colleagues asked me if everything was okay, I just smiled and nodded. Seriously, this secrecy business is killing me. I am not ashamed of my love for Adam Stephens, the young Christian man who stole my heart and brought life into my otherwise dreary existence. Sometimes, I want to shout my love for him from the mountaintops. Adam makes me happy, and treats me better than any man I've ever known. What do I mean by that? Adam makes me feel alive, loved and protected. What more could any woman ask for? The brother is speaking of taking me to the small Ontario town where he was born and introduce me to his parents. I am so not ready for any of that, but I am touched that Adam considers me worthy of such an honor. Adam is serious about me, and that excites me more than I can explain, seriously. I am proud to be with Adam and I will be by his side no matter what. Of course, this might get me killed by family but it's the price we pay for the chemistry. Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Slut There are certain things which, no matter how much she loves a man, a woman simply cannot share with him. My name is Ayaan Ismail and I’m a young Somali-Canadian Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. The other day, I had a scary episode at the university campus where I work. This creepy old white dude named Fergus, who was in charge of the cleaning crew I was a part of, practically assaulted me and I left work in a huff. Thankfully, I got Fergus fired and obtained a restraining order from the Ottawa police forces against him. To placate me, the university administration where I work put me in charge of the cleaning crew. How about that? I used to be part of the cleaning crew, not I’m the boss. I got that position by getting rid of the asshole who once occupied it. I used to make eleven dollars and seventy five cents per hour, working forty-hour weeks just to make ends meet. Now I make seventeen bucks per hour. That’s cool, right? Life in provincial Ontario, the most populous region of Canada, isn’t easy for anyone, but when you’re a brown-skinned female who wears the Hijab, the world is both covertly and at times overtly hostile to you. I am of Somali descent, and I am a Muslim, and believe me, Canadians don’t like people of my faith or color. Of course, on paper, they say that they’re all about diversity and multiculturalism but in practice, they show their true colors. Fergus the former cleaning crew chief wasn’t the first racist old white dude I’ve had to take on, in the City of Ottawa, nor will he be the last. The Capital of Canada is becoming quite diverse due to an influx of immigrants from Somalia, Haiti, Lebanon, Gambia, China, Iran, Colombia, Brazil, Nigeria, Chechnya, Ethiopia, Turkey, and a bunch of other places. Not everyone is happy about the nation’s growing racial diversity, and they fight against us people of color in vicious, passive-aggressive ways. I cannot stand these bozos, I swear. I didn’t tell my beloved boyfriend, Adam Stephens, about what I’ve done. I knew how he’d react. First Adam would express anger at Fergus for daring to mistreat me, then he’d get mad at me for not coming to him, my chivalrous caramel-covered sexy knight in shining armor. I love Adam, but I honestly don’t need his fuss at the moment. I can take care of myself. I don’t need Adam to rescue me or protect me. Hijab-wearing Muslim girls like myself aren’t helpless. We can handle ourselves. What I did want from Adam Stephens was for him to be my lover, not my little helper, and slang the dick like only he can. When he asked me why I was feeling blue at the movies the other day, I told Adam I was stressed out because of work, but didn’t get into any of the details. That explanation seemed to satisfy him, and Adam took me to our favorite restaurant, Renedad, a Haitian spot in Gloucester, and we ate some delicious Caribbean food before returning to my place for some wicked fun. Adam Stephens and I went home, and once there, we had ourselves a nice time. All the frustration and pent-up anger I’d been feeling for the past few days vanished like ice in the sun. My sweetheart laid me on the bed, and then he went to work on me. I lay on the king-sized bed, stark naked, and Adam spread my thick thighs and gave my frustrated, anxious pussy a very thorough and dare I say downright therapeutic licking. I lay there, moaning softly as Adam worked his tongue into my cunt and fingered me thoroughly. Work your magic, I thought as I closed my eyes while Adam Stephens pleasured me like only he can. After giving my pussy a tongue bath, Adam Stephens kissed me all over, paying special attention to my lips and tits. I smiled at Adam and pulled him closer, and we kissed once more. Now it’s my turn to take care of my lover’s manly needs. I kissed Adam full and deep, and licked his throat while tugging playfully on his chest hairs. Tall, masculine, and caramel-hued, his features a lovely blend of Afro-Caribbean and European-Canadian, Adam is a beautiful young man. The biracial lad who makes me melt with a single look, every damn time. I kissed and licked my way to Adam’s groin area, and finally grasped his manhood with both hands. Long and thick, and uncircumcised, that’s Adam’s dick. I stroked it gently, and then slowly took him into my mouth. Adam moaned softly as I sucked him off. I slid a finger into Adam’s butt hole and fingered my sweetie while going down on him. Lots of men have trouble admitting this to themselves, let alone to the women in their lives, but they really, really like having their asses played with. Well, my Adam isn’t like the others. Since I could tell he enjoyed what I was doing to him, I stuck a second finger up Adam’s ass. The tall, manly biracial stud moaned and squirmed on the bed, and I got so turned on that I replaced my fingers with a slim green dildo. Adam’s dick got even harder once I shoved the dildo up his ass. Just like I knew it would. How cool is that? I sucked Adam’s dick with gusto, and when he came, I drank up every last drop of his precious and decidedly tasty, wicked wonderful masculine seed. Yes, I’m a Hijabi who sucks dick and I am good at it. Don’t like it? You can most definitely kiss my thick Somali derriere! Adam Stephens and I continued with our fun, and my sexy stud put me on all fours and worshipped my booty just like a real man should. I don’t mean to brag, but we Somali girls have got the best butts on the planet. Seriously. Adam spread my ass cheeks, inhaled the scent of my butt hole, and then stuck his tongue inside. I moaned softly as Adam’s tongue sank deep inside my asshole. Awesome, I thought blissfully. After polishing the forbidden depths of my asshole with that magic tongue of his, Adam gave me quite a treat. The sexy biracial stud fed my hungry asshole that thick dick of his, after lubricating me good and proper. I spread my ass for Adam and his dick sank inside of me, filling me up completely. I screamed passionately as I got fucked in the ass by the man that I love. Anal sex rocks, especially when you’re doing it with someone you care about and he knows what he’s doing. We sucked and butt-fucked the night away, and it was wickedly fun. Adam and I cuddled afterwards, and my boo looked me in the eyes and asked me if everything was alright. I smiled at Adam and nodded. For a moment, I kind of hesitated. I love Adam and he loves me. I feel bad for not telling him about what happened at work, but I handled the matter just fine on my own. So I don’t need to burden my sweet Adam with that. Whoever thinks that Hijab-wearing Muslim girls from Somalia are weak has clearly never met me! Ayaan The Somali Cleaning Wench Participating in sexual activity while wearing the Hijab, is there anything hotter and naughtier than that? I sincerely doubt it. My name is Ayaan Ismail and I'm a young Somali-Canadian Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I attend Algonquin College and work part-time as a cleaner at one of the Capital's major universities. It's where I met the love of my life, Adam Stephens, the young biracial stud who makes my heart soar. The two of us were walking around Gloucester after watching the movie Selma at the Silver City movie theater. Adam Stephens and I, holding hands, talking and laughing, two lovebirds without a care in the world. The movie rocked, and it's too bad the racist bozos who run Hollywood won't honor it with an Oscar. Damn white people. They're always trying to make the world worse than it has to be with their greed and racism. It's a good thing their demographics are dropping across the globe. Sorry if I sound bitter. I know exactly why Hollywood won't give an Oscar to the movie Selma. It's a black movie that features black people in heroic roles instead of being subservient to whites, and the Hollywood establishment can't have that. The only time you see a black actor or black actress win an Oscar is when they're portraying a slave, a maid, a crack addict, or some type of social deviant who is inherently inferior to the film's white hero. Their way of subliminally keeping us down, I guess. Bunch of haters if you ask me. A lot of things are happening in the Canadian capital these days. Thanks to the actions of a few misguided fools who happen to be Muslim, the Canadian government is now looking at all Muslims with suspicion, especially at student organizations in local colleges and universities. I am a Muslim woman who believes in the Canadian values of democracy, religious freedom and diversity. Of course, in the eyes of the bigots who hate me, that doesn't matter. Sometimes, this stuff can really get me down, and although I tried to share my feelings with Adam Stephens, my boo doesn't get it. Adam was born to a black immigrant father from the Caribbean and a white Canadian mother, but the brother is so whitewashed it's not even funny. Adam is pretty clueless when it comes to issues of race, religion and culture. He sounds like pretty much what you imagine a guy from small-town Ontario would sound like, only he's a person of color, so that makes it worse. Guess I've made my bed and now I've got to lie in it. I am a Muslim woman with a Christian boyfriend. There are things about me which my boo simply doesn't get. Anyhow, Adam and I were walking around, and walked into the Blair shopping center. That's when we got the urge, and went looking for a place to fuck. Now, there's a Wal-Mart connected to the mall, and we figured its washrooms offered an interesting choice of places for a quickie. Adam and I went near the men's washroom, which happened to be closed for cleaning. Now, this presented us with some interesting possibilities. There was a sign telling people to use the mall's public washroom instead. Grinning, I pushed the door open, and snuck in with a giggling Adam in tow. Once inside, Adam and I got our freak on. My sexy biracial stud, whose handsome face is a blend of Afro-Caribbean and European, smiled at me as he propped me up on the washroom counter. I smiled back at Adam, hiked up my traditional Islamic long skirt, exposing pink panties. Adam grinned, and then he yanked down my panties and buried his face between my shapely legs. I inhaled sharply as Adam stuck his tongue into my cunt, and then began probing me gently with his fingers. I moaned softly as my sexy lover began exploring my womanly folds. Adam had me right in my sweet spot, and we both knew it. Adam and I did our thing, and I leaned against the men's washroom mirror, trying to relax as my boo pleasured me. I licked my lips and clucked my tongue, and Adam suddenly looked up at me. I shot him a look. Seriously, did I ask him to stop? Nope. I told Adam to continue what he was doing, and my favorite biracial stud did as he was told, munching on my sweet pussy like a hungry man. I closed my eyes as Adam stuck two fingers in my cunt while a third finger found its way into my asshole. I gasped aloud and smiled, for I love having my ass played with and my boo Adam most definitely knew it. Mixed or not, Adam is a brother in my eyes and I've yet to meet a brother who doesn't like a big booty. I've got one of the best and Adam loves to lick it, fondle it and yes, fuck the hell out of it. Adam Stephens smiled at me and told me to relax, then he stuck a second finger in my asshole. I moaned softly and urged Adam to continue, and pretty soon, I was breathing heavily and groaning loudly, loving the double whammy that Adam laid on me. With his tongue on my clit and his fingers up my asshole, Adam had me at his mercy and we both knew it. I was close to the edge, and Adam was ready to take me to the next level. Of course, that's when a cleaner walked in, attracted by the noise we made. Awesome timing, eh? Look, I won't bore you with the details but suffice to say that Adam Stephens and I had to leave the east end Wal-Mart, and indeed the Blair shopping center itself, in a big hurry. We readjusted our clothes and made a mad dash for the exits. Finally, we reached the OC Transpo bus station, and got on the bus. Dammit, we got interrupted right when Adam was about to make me cum. Bad timing, man. At least we didn't get our kinky asses arrested, eh? Ayanda Ayanda opens the front door and push the button to open the big gate. There was no mistaking the look on her face as I walked through the gate to meet her. I saw the same lust in her eyes as I was feeling at that moment. We hug tightly and walk towards the house; talking and laughing as we make our way through the door, into the kitchen and around the corner to the bar to pour ourselves a drink before settling on the couch with some snacks. After catching up a bit we both get up, smiling to each other and drop all our clothes right on the couch. We had the house to ourselves tonight, no men and no kids for a change and we really needed to spend some time. I watch Ayanda the whole time; she has a very toned and fit body, small tight ass and full, firm B-cup tits with small dark nipples and areola. She moves sensually and elegantly and I could feel my own body responding to seeing her so naked for the first time. I bite my lip watching her clean shaven pussy open up as she lifts her leg to climb into the jacuzzi and notices her looking at me the same way. I was not nearly as hot and toned as Amanda although I was quite attractive myself. We talk and laugh like friends who have not seen nearly enough of each other. I get out fetching us another drink while Ayanda changes the CD. Before getting in the jacuzzi again, I hold out her drink; there was tangible electricity in the air as our fingers brush, we both stand still and look deeply into each other's eyes while locking our fingers just a second longer. "You have beautiful eyes, I only see now that you have brown specs in them." "Yeah, I got those from my grandfather, he had brown eyes." I shiver a bit, a cool breeze was blowing in from the open window and both our nipples become hard instantly. We both burst out laughing and hurriedly make our way back to the warm Jacuzzi. This time we both sit down right on top of a water jet and maneuvered ourselves over it for maximum effect. "Your nipples are still very hard, are you still cold?" Ayanda laughs at me; "No silly, I'm horny; talk about hard, look at your nipples. We're both fucking with the water jets let's get out of here; I got some extra toys in the room. We can get back to the Jacuzzi later." I smile at her shyly and notice that she is also blushing. This is going to be good, clean, all girl fun. We have been hinting in that direction from time to time, but we never really discussed it since we're both supposed to be straight. I follow her slender form to the room and enjoy the sway of her hips. I wonder if she is wet already. I could feel my own wetness spreading and I know I am very wet. I slip a finger down to my pussy, over my clit and into the wet folds before sucking my juice off, at which point Ayanda turned around and looked right at me. "Were you looking at my ass? You are such a horny bitch you know that!" I blush some more and laugh at her; "I was just wondering if you were as wet as I was. I just had to taste myself." Ayanda takes the toys out of the drawer next to the bed and puts the lube on the bed. "I don't think we're gonna need this ... let's just keep it for incase okay?" Amanda lay down first, making herself comfortable on the pillows. I take some pillows to the other end of the bed so I can watch what she was doing and see the effects thereof on her face. She turns the vibrator on and lightly touches it to her neck trailing it between her tits, circling them. Her nipples become even more erect and she slowly moves the vibrator over her tummy, stimulating her mound and the insides of her thighs. I can see her wet folds as she opens her legs and I can clearly smell her arousal. I turn on the other vibrator and gently touch it to my own lips and to the side of my neck, my shoulders and then I circle my tits one by one until I have the vibrator barely touching my nipples; the effect is electric. I can feel my pussy get wetter really fast and I repeat the same action with the other breast. I close my eyes and start pushing my hips towards the vibrator while my other hand pinches and rolls my hard nipples to the point where it hurt. I open my eyes to see that Ayanda was looking at me with her mouth half open. I gasp lightly and notice that she was barely touching the vibrator to her clit. A moan escapes her wide mouth as she slides the vibrator down her wet slit and sighs when she slides it into her snatch. I bite my lip, becoming even more aroused and press the vibrator hard on my clit, thrusting my hips against it. I buck and moan as I rotate the vibrator over my clit, the intensity of the vibrations are driving me so close to the edge that I could cum at any moment. The bed moves and I open my eyes again, Ayanda gets on top of me with her ass facing towards me. I take the vibrator away from my pussy and put it on the bed while I stroke her smooth thighs and ass, making her push her hips back into my hands. She blows on my wet pussy and I lift my hips off the bed. While she trails the vibrator over my inner thighs towards my now aching pussy I slide two fingers into her cunt, causing her to gasp and back into my hand some more. I take the vibrator in my other hand and start to stimulate her labia and clit until I have her begging me to put it in her pussy. I tease her a bit more, remove my fingers and start to fuck her with the vibrator while sucking her juices off my hand. Never have I tasted anything sweeter, her scent is taking over all of my senses. I start making mewing sounds as she push the slightly bigger vibrator into my snatch while flicking her nail over my pulsing clit, causing me to shake violently. When I return the favour she gasp sharply and start bucking her hips, pushing the vibrator deeper and deeper into her pussy. Soon both of us were sweating and panting and bucking into each other. We cum; hard, we're shaking and moaning until she collapses on top of me and roll to lie down next to me. We just lay next to each other like that for quite a while; stroking each other and savoring the intensity and sensuality of the moment until we get up and to go back to the Jacuzzi with weak, shaky legs and down the remainder of our drinks. In the next few weeks it became clear that we could please each other more than what the men in our lives could. Neither of us would ever become lesbian, but we'll never be straight again. Ayano's Pleasure Cruise My God, I have to share what happened last week or I'll bust. I'm Gregory, all six foot two and 215 pounds of me. I won't say I'm ripped, because I'm not, but I'm not fat, either. Brown hair, blue eyes, and 20 years old... while girls don't kill each other to be with me, I do all right. Two years ago, my father died. My mother was devastated, and spent a long time mourning. Then she seemed to snap back a bit, but definitely wasn't interested in men. Comparing her to the vibrant, energetic woman of my youth, I'd have to say she was still moping and depressed. I tried everything I could think of to cheer her up, but nothing really seemed to work. Oh sure, she'd enjoy the concert or circus or whatever, but a few days later she'd be depressed again. I cast around for ideas, and eventually decided to take her on a cruise. I booked us on a five day cruise to Mexico on the Carnival Elation, sailing out of New Orleans. When I told her about it, she seemed to fight the idea. "Cruise? Can we afford a cruise?" It was actually a good question. "We can if we don't expect a grand suite, or anything. I got us a two-person interior cabin on the Verandah Deck. Cabin V4." I squirmed a little. "I know it's a little expensive, but you need to get away." She fought against it, but in the end she agreed. I mean, since I'd already paid for it, she didn't really have a choice. And after a while she started to get excited about cruising to Mexico. I could take it or leave it, really, just as long as it cheered her up. We arrived at the port around 10 am, giving them time to debark the current boatload of passengers, and then boarded. We weren't booked in a suite, so we didn't get preferential treatment, and boarding took time. We actually got on board around 11:30, and headed straight to the Lido deck buffets. Hauling our luggage with us, we found a table and ate lunch while we waited for our cabin to be open. And by the way, I highly recommend their Drink of the Day... it's a great way to start the vacation, even before the ship actually left the docks at 4 pm. We finally were able to get to our cabin around 2:30, deposit our carry-on luggage, and start unpacking our checked bags. We dressed for dinner, me in slacks, shirt, and tie, and mom in a nice and understated black dress. Let me describe what my mother looks like. She's a small, oriental woman, 5' 4" and 102 pounds, with a metabolism that never seems to add weight. And she's got that classic, smooth complexion that makes her look even younger than she is. And since she gave birth to me young, at 18, she isn't even 40 years old, yet. Seeing us together, nobody would guess we are related... I take after my dad. I'm white, big, and muscular, with no trace of oriental features or coloration, so that's not really surprising. We had dinner in the dining room the first night, and it was awesome. The food was better than good, and they treated us really well. If you've ever wanted to know how it feels to be really rich, go on a cruise, because they'll treat you like that. They cater to your every whim, and it is incredible. We slept well that night, with no trace of sea sickness, each of us in our own twin sized bed. When I woke up, she was already up and out. She told me later that she did some sunning and swimming, as well as enjoying a massage at the spa. We had lunch at the Lido buffet, and then she spent some time in the casino. When dinner rolled around, we hit the main dining room again. It was a wonderful day. I'd spent it catching up on some reading, but we had seen each other a few times that day. We were taking the opportunity to get away from our normal lives... she called me Gregory, and I called her Ayano. We didn't know anybody on board, and they didn't know us. For this trip we were simply traveling companions, not mother and son. Afterwards, she said she wanted to go to the piano bar, so we did. A waiter showed up at our table pretty quickly holding a tray full of small shot glasses filled with a light-chocolate-colored liquid. "Would you like a Shot of the Day?" he asked, his foreign accent just a little hard to understand. "What is it?" she asked in reply. "Slippery Nipples!" the waiter proclaimed proudly. My eyes widened... I'd never heard of that drink! But mom surprised the hell out of me by ordering one! What's more, she downed that bad boy in one swallow. She'd had a glass of wine with dinner, and she wasn't exactly a substantial person, so as the night progressed and she drank four more of the little shots, I started to become concerned. When she started to badger me to dance, I decided it was time for her to sleep it off, but she wouldn't go. "One dance," she insisted drunkenly. Finally I gave in. And, of course, the pianist chose that moment to go into a soft, slinky, romantic slow number. So we slow-danced. Mom is really quite a good dancer, and we glided around the tiny dance floor, alone in the semi-darkness and lost in the music. When the song ended, we headed back to the cabin. Sleep came hard to me as my mother, blasted out of her skull, lay on her twin-sized bed giggling. But I eventually did get to sleep, lying under the thick covers in nothing but my boxers. I was awakened some indeterminate time later by the unmistakable sensation of a tongue licking my dick. It started down at the base, just above my balls, and licked all the way to the top. Then I felt eager lips nibbling at the tip, and a tiny hand wrap itself around the base. I jerked upwards in surprise, resting my weight on my elbows as I looked down towards the foot of the bed. We'd left the light on in the cabin's bathroom, with the door mostly closed, so I was able to see a little. And what I saw shocked the Hell out of me! My mother was crouched on the foot of the bed, kneeling over me with her head in my lap. The blankets had been tossed to one side, and she rested her weight on her hands as she slowly took my cock into her mouth. The sensation was intense, and rendered me speechless for a moment. As she pulled her mouth off me and began nibbling on the side, I managed to find my voice. "Mom?" I sounded shaken, even to my own ears. She totally ignored me. She began bouncing her head up and down on my dick, sucking strongly as she did so, and all rational thought fled. God, this felt good! She kept that up for a few moments, bobbing shallowly up and down while her hand jacked up and down. Then she removed her hand and slowly pushed downward, taking my entire length into her mouth, until her nose was crushed into my pubic hair. Now, I'm not built like a horse, or anything, but my dick is 8 or 9 inches long (I've never measured it), which means that about half of it had to be jammed down her throat! She held that position for a short moment, and then did something amazing. She swallowed. Yes, I know, most guys say they really want a woman who swallows, but this isn't what they talk about. It would be, if they'd ever experienced it, but it isn't. The feeling up and down the length of my dick as her throat muscles rippled was literally indescribable. I gasped and couldn't keep myself from grabbing her heard and trying to thrust even further down her throat. It took me another moment to realize that she couldn't breathe with my cock stuffed down her throat, so I let go. She withdrew until her lips barely enfolded the tip, then took a few deep breaths through her nose, and then dove right back down. That was the pattern as she bobbed down as far as she could go, my fingers tangled into her hair, swallowed once or twice, and then came back up to breathe. I was lost on a rising tide of lust as I felt my orgasm begin to build. She kept up a steady rhythm as I let the sensations wash over me. I looked downward again, savoring the site of my own mother sucking my dick, and at that moment I began to come. I grabbed her head and thrust into her mouth as far as I could go, and pumped the first of my seed directly down her throat. I pulled out just a little and drove back in, pumping more down into her stomach. Then I released her hair, fell backwards onto the bed, and gasped as the climax overwhelmed me. Mom handled it like a trooper, withdrawing until only a little was in her mouth and pumping my shaft with her hand as she sucked me dry, swallowing rapidly. When the moment passed and I went limp, she took her mouth off of me and began licking me clean. With my ability to think restored, I was only able to watch her with shock as she gave me one final lick, giggled as she licked her lips, and then put her head on my crotch and closed her eyes. Within a minute, soft snores filled the room. It looked like a very awkward position. I didn't know what else to do, so I gently disentangled myself from her and carried her back to bed, tucking her in while doing my dead level best to forget what had just happened. The next morning dawned early, but I didn't. I'd lain awake for hours trying to put that incredible experience out of my mind, and didn't actually wind up sleeping much. I awoke to find an empty room and a note telling me she was at breakfast, and that I should hurry up before the fat pigs on the boat ate it all. I arrived on the Lido deck and went to the buffet, looking around to find my mother. Her wave caught my attention, and I headed over to her. All I could see of her was her top, which was covered in a light sweater, underneath which I caught a glimpse of a bikini top. I sighed to myself... this was going to be a LONG day. "I'm mad at you, Gregory," she said as I sat down with a plate of eggs and bacon. "I wanted to dance last night and you wouldn't do it." After a moment I managed to shut my mouth. She didn't remember! Thank God for small favors, she didn't remember sucking my dick. Not surprising, as wasted as she must have been. "Uhhh..." I stammered, "Sorry?" So I'm not the most eloquent man in the universe... sue me. "Maybe tonight." She waved her fork in my face. "Definitely tonight." When we finished eating, we headed out to the pool... and there my nightmare truly began. First, she was wearing only bikini bottoms, and I got to see her incredible ass swinging from side to side as I followed her topside. Then she took off the sweater, revealing to me exactly how HUGE B-cup breasts look on a woman so tiny. After what had happened the night before, seeing her standing almost naked in front of me caused an instant erection. I managed to sit down hurriedly, and tossed my towel over my lap, lifting one leg to hide it better. And I watched as she smeared suntan lotion all over her body and lay down. I'd never thought of my mother in a sexual way... that's actually kind of sick. But after being sucked off by her, it seemed my mind was obsessed with that tiny, delicious body, and what it might do for me. Dinner that night was delicious, as normal, and we ended up in the Piano Bar again. She went straight for the shots again, though this time they weren't Slippery Nipples, instead some kind of crème de menthe based concoction. As she licked her lips clean after each shot, I saw an instant flashback of a similar moment the night before. She continued to drink, if anything sucking back more this time than she had the last! We did dance again, once, this time to an energetic swing number. I took her back to the cabin, made sure she was tucked in, again giggling to herself. Then I beat a hasty retreat and returned to the Piano Bar. I stayed there until after 2 am, then returned to our cabin. Hesitantly sticking my head into the room, I heard soft snores instead of giggles, so I figured I was safe. I crawled into the bed, clutching the blankets like they could protect me from the sexy vixen in the next bed that used to be my mother. The third day of the cruise we stopped in Cozumel, Mexico, and my mother went ashore to do some shopping. I stayed on board, and for two reasons. First, I had had too little sleep and too much alcohol the night before, and I was trying to recover. Second, I had seen the skimpy outfit she wore ashore, and I had no desire (or too much?) to chase her around Cozumel with a massive erection. So I stayed behind. Dinner found me half asleep, and when she dragged me to the club that night, she bullied me into dancing with her quite a lot. I was dressed in casual clothes, but she had on a very short dress that exposed quite a bit of her cleavage. I gulped as she gyrated to the thump of the music, watching her incredibly sexy body move in ways that made my mouth go dry. She drank a lot, again, this time forgoing the shots in favor of whiskey and cokes. Five of them. Responding to the rather incredible circumstances, I drank two or three more than normal, myself. Fatigue eventually drove me back to the table, but she stayed on the floor, gyrating with whomever wanted to join her. At one point I saw a gentleman leading her off the dance floor, heading towards the elevators. I hurried over in that direction. "Ayano," I called, raising my hand and hurrying over. The man looked peeved and kept hold of her arm as I gently touched her face. She rolled her head over and looked at me, breaking out into a big smile. "There you are, Gregory!" She pointed in the general direction of the man. "He was going to help me find you, sweetheart." I just bet he was, mom. I looked at him and he scowled darkly back at me. I dialed up my own gaze, giving him the one that says "I am bigger than you, and I'll happily make you swim back!" He backed down, and I escorted my mother back to our cabin. I was too tired to head back out, so tucked her in as tightly as I could and crawled into my own bed, falling asleep almost before my head hit the pillow. As you might guess, it didn't last. I awoke to the sensation of my boxers being pulled over my feet, and then I felt a naked female body pressing against mine. Her tiny fingers clutched my dick, which quickly inflated to full proportions, and she jacked it slowly. Her other hand was spreading some kind of oil over my nipples, moving lovingly from one to the other. Then her lips pressed against mine, and she kissed me hungrily. I couldn't help it. I was half asleep, half soused, and a naked woman was jacking me off and kissing me. I kissed her back, just as hungrily. I knew who it was, and the night seemed suspended in a blinding white glare as my blood thrummed in my ears. She slid her tongue into my mouth, and I gave up trying to fight it. The kiss was magical, but not static. Yes, it wiped away thought and awakened a hunger I'd been fighting for two days, but we worked at it. Our jaws opened and close as we kissed, our tongues fighting each other as our hands roamed freely over our bodies. I'd never felt my mother's body, never even imagined doing it, but now my hands ran over her silky skin, finding her breasts, the graceful flow of her neck, and he smooth buttocks. As her hand found my dick again, my found his slit and rubbed the outside gently. As she moaned against my mouth, I realized that her pussy was soaking wet. For me. I rubbed her slit more vigorously, and slid one finger into her pussy as I used my tongue to invade her mouth. I moved my finger inside her, gently, and her whimper ignited my lust and fanned it to full life. Suddenly I knew that not only was I going to fuck my own mother, but I fiercely wanted to do it. I kissed my way down her neck and found her breasts, eagerly sucking one into my mouth. Her free hand clapped to the back of my head as I sucked, her gasp echoing wetly through the room. I sucked her tits as I finger-fucked her pussy, and she panted and moaned with the pleasure I was giving her. Then her body locked and she gave an extremely high-pitched shriek as she trembled, her legs scissor-locked around my still moving hand. She was moving frantically against me, her free hand clasping my mouth to her nipple with frantic force. Eventually she relaxed, going suddenly from her muscle-locked condition to limp ragdoll in under a second. I figured the night was over, so I withdrew my fingers and returned my lips to hers, kissing her gently, lovingly. My loins still burned, and my dick was positively aching, but if she'd already passed out... She hadn't. Her little hand placed itself in the center of my chest and shoved. I tumbled backwards to lie flat on my back, and she climbed on top of me. Her lips found mine, and we kissed eagerly again. I felt her fingers wrap around my dick again, and point it upwards to the ceiling. And then I felt the tip of it nestling snugly against something soft and wet. And then she lowered herself onto me, and I felt my dick slowly surrounded by the sweet softness of my mother's pussy. It took her a while to work all of my dick into that little pussy of hers, but she managed it, panting and gasping as I filled her up. And then she just sat there, not really moving, just grinding gently against me. I groaned, mouth open, as she used her pussy muscles to massage my dick. I could dimly see her smiling face above me, white teeth flashing in the night as she fucked her son. She drew herself upwards, and I felt the incredible sensation as all but the very tip was exposed, until she pushed downwards again and engulfed me with her moist heat. My head was spinning as she pumped her ass up and down on my cock, sliding her lips down until she was sucking on MY nipples. A long moan escaped me as my hands grabbed her hips and I began to thrust upwards to meet her. I met her frantic thrusts with frantic thrusts of my own, desperately clutching her ass cheeks as I tried to split her in two with my cock. Her voice echoed through the small cabin, very loud in my ears as she lost my nipple and simply buried her face in my neck. "Unh, unh, unh, unh," she panted in my ear in time with our thrusts, and then her muscles locked again as she came. This time she wasn't silent. The scream started low and throaty, and scaled upwards as her orgasm shook her like a dog with a toy. It was really, REALLY loud, and I didn't want anyone to bust in here thinking I was killing my mother, so I grabbed the back of head and forced her mouth to mine. The scream went on, but muffled by our mouths as we frantically kissed. And then my own orgasm slammed into me, and I thrust as deeply as I could into her pussy, fingers splayed on her naked buttocks as I tried to crush us together, and sent my sperm shooting deep into my mother's womb. The feeling was overwhelmingly intense, and I lost myself in the sensations for a while. When I came back to my senses we were still connected, and she was rocking gently on top of my dick as she kissed me softly. After a few moments she tensed up again, coming again as she trembled her way through an orgasm like an aftershock. We continued this way for a while, and I think she had three more orgasms, each smaller and gentler than the last. Eventually she stopped moving her hips and laid her head on my shoulder, falling swiftly asleep as she snuggled against me. Somehow I managed to get her cleaned up and tucked into her own bed without waking her. I will admit that I stood over her, looking down at her absolutely gorgeous naked body for a long time before finding my own blankets. The next morning the ship docked in Progreso, and this time I felt much better and accompanied Ayano on her shopping trip. She was still dressed scandalously, but after the previous night I enjoyed the view openly. I even caught a few jealous glances tossed my way, and took them as my due. I was a lucky man. That night we went drinking again, this time in the karaoke bar. She sang a few songs, but her biggest hit was when she sang "Dark Lady' by Cher, complete with whistle-producing hip wiggles and gyrations. I, personally, horrified the crowd with an off-key rendition of "Take This Job and Shove It!" Laughing and well-lit, we headed back to the cabin after a thoroughly enjoyable evening of drinking and singing. Ayano's Pleasure Cruise We lay in our separate beds for quite a while but sleep did not come. I was waiting in an agony of expectant hopefulness. Would she climb into my bed again, or should I go to hers? I knew she didn't remember anything when she was sober, so was this wrong? Such thoughts chased me into a dazed half-sleep that I didn't even know I was in. The blankets being raised awakened me instantly, and I turned towards her even as she was lying down. Our lips locked together instantly, and our hands gripped each other ass cheeks as we ground our pelvises together in total abandonment. Our kisses were feverishly demanding, and I rolled over on top of her as I kissed my way down her body. I stopped briefly to explore her breasts and suck her nipples, for which I was rewarded by her fingers clutching in my hair, pulling me closer, but I eventually moved lower. I kissed my down her belly, briefly causing a giggle when I tongued her belly button, until my face was buried between her legs and I was kissing the inside of her legs. As I kissed all around her pussy, I felt her hands trying to shove my mouth where she wanted it to go, and her hips pumped towards my mouth, as well. I slid my arms under her legs, wrapping them around her buttocks and gripping her thighs to hold them apart as I looked at her pussy. Though I'd fucked her good and darned well the previous night, this was the first time I'd ever seen this precious treasure. I've seen a few pussies before, and I can say without hesitation that this one was perfect. The pink lips showed through her sparse pubic hair, and her juices glistened in the dim lighting. Her hips trembled as I breathed warmly on her exposed sex. Then I buried my nose in her pussy and licked. I quickly lost track of time as I licked that glorious pussy from whence I'd once sprang, using every technique I'd picked up to pleasure my mother. I could her above me moaning and groaning as I ate her out. Her hands clasped the back of my head as her legs clamped down hard on me, actually hurting my head with the strength of her legs. I kept licking, and even slid one hand around and inserted two fingers into her pussy. "Gregory," she suddenly screamed as she bucked against my mouth, "EAT ME!" She pumped frantically as she chanted, "Yes, yes, oh God YES!!!!" As her orgasm peaked and subsided I slowed down as well, until my fingers were out and I was just lightly licking or kissing my mother's pussy. Then I worked my way back up her body, lightly, softly, giving her a chance to recover, until we were face to face. She was smiling, a satisfied smile, a cat that just got eaten by the canary smile. I looked deeply into her eyes and lovingly stroked the side of her face. "Ayano," I whispered as I lowered my lips to hers. Our kiss was gentle and loving, but I started to lose control as her hand gripped my dick and guided it to her pussy. Gently, gradually, I pressed forward until the tip of my dick had parted her soft lips. Then I stopped kissing her, and just locked gazes with her as I slowly slid my cock into her pussy. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened as I filled her up, bottoming out with a groan of my own. Fucking my mother was feeling MUCH better than any other sex I'd ever had. A tiny warning bell sounded in my mind at that thought, but I was too far gone to pay it any attention. Instead, I started stroking into her, my arms threaded under hers and cupping the sides of her face tenderly as we fucked. Our kisses this time were less frantic, but all the more powerful as her hands explored me as my cock drilled into her. Our pace was a moderate but steady one. As her orgasm approached, I felt her fingernails dig into my back and drag their way down. The pain seemed to connect with the pleasure in my cock with an almost electrical intensity, and I moaned into her mouth as I increased my pace. Her hands found my ass and clutched it strongly, nails digging into flesh so powerfully I was sure they drew blood. We continued to fuck, my dick sliding in and out of her pussy as she began to tremble with her impending orgasm. She was panting into my ear, "Gregory, Gregory, Gregory." I returned the favor. "Ayano," I groaned loudly, "Oh my God, Ayano!" I was losing control and fucking her faster as she trembled through her orgasm and I felt the electrical tingling of my own building in my cock. Then it hit, and I dumped my seed into her as I slowed down, kissing her lovingly as we both came down from the intense feelings of our fucking. When I finally rolled off of Ayano, ending up lying on my back and covered in sweat, she rolled over and cuddled against my side, her right breast poking into my chest while her head lay on my chest. I figured I'd let her rest there for a few minutes before putting her in her own bed, but fell asleep before I could actually do it. I awoke slowly that morning, enjoying the feeling of someone tucked into my arms, sleeping on my chest. Then I remembered who it was and my eyes flew open. She was already awake, looking at me with a small, secret smile on her face. When she saw I was awake she leaned forward and kissed me once, lovingly on the lips. "Good morning, lover," she purred silkily as she played with my chest hair with one hand. "Sleep well?" I was flabbergasted. "You knew?" She nodded, her grin widening. "I thought you were too drunk to remember!" She shook her head, then dipped forward and briefly nibbled my ear. "No," she said, looking into my eyes, "I was never too drunk to remember. The alcohol helped me shed my inhibitions and do what I've wanted to do for a long time, and I'll cherish these memories forever." Her kiss on my lips was possibly the most sensual thing she'd done to me yet. I was still trying to play catch up with my half asleep brain. "But... what about... I mean..." My voice trailed off as her hand moved from my chest hair and found my balls. She shrugged, prettily. "I wanted to. Why else does anybody do anything?" I reached for and we kissed, her lying on her right side and me on my left, her breasts touching my chest and our kiss binding us together. My dick stirred, growing, and she giggled as she broke the kiss. "Now, now, down boy. I'm hungry." At my disappointed look, she gave a low, throaty chuckle. "Tell you what, stud. Be good today, and we'll see about a special treat tonight. Hm?" Since she'd already given me the most special treat in the world, I had no idea what she might have in mind. Well, time enough to find out about that later. So I leashed my lust and we got dressed and headed to the Lido buffet. The day was a good one, as we wandered all over the boat, exploring our environment and enjoying each other's company. We held hands most of the day and once, standing near the running track on the uppermost deck, we shared a kiss that curled my toes. Dinner was as good as ever, but I must admit I was distracted and anxious. Ayano noticed and laughed gently at me, then fed me a slice of melon from the dessert tray. I held her hand by the wrist, keeping it from withdrawing, and licked the juices off her fingers. Her eyes twinkled as she rapped me playfully on the cheek by way of punishment. The feel of her nails on my cheek made the scratches on back and butt ache slightly, but I could live with it. That night we drank sparingly, by unspoken, mutual accord, and retired early. I had dressed in the suit I'd packed, and she wore a resplendent golden gown that seemed so low-cut that I could almost see her belly button. And when we slow danced, our bodies pressed together in time to the music, I wished this cruise would go on forever. Back in the cabin, Ayano calmly and coolly undressed me, removing clothing one piece at a time and spending considerable time touching and stroking flesh as it appeared. Eventually I stood before her, totally naked, as she admired the body that she'd enjoyed but hadn't seen naked. She seemed to approve, and spent some licking and kissing my balls and dick until it stood up at full attention, pointing like a lodestone towards Ayano's face. Then she took me into my mouth and sucked. She was a marvelous sight, kneeling in her golden gown, head bobbing up and down on my cock. But stopped long before I could come, giving my dick a final peck before standing up. She didn't say anything, I knew from example what she expected. I stepped forward, enfolding her in my arms and kissing her as my hands deftly unzipped her gown. It was a long zipper, and wasn't fully unzipped until my hands ended up down near her ass. Then I stepped back and slid the gown off her arms until it pooled on the floor. I held one hand as she stepped out of the gown and faced me. My heart caught in my throat at her breathtaking beauty, and I felt lust surge at the sight of her. Under that wonderful gown, she'd somehow managed to conceal naughty red underwear. I knelt before her and reached around to undo her bra. As that fell away, I was enchanted by her tits, and spent quite a bit of time clutching her back and making love to her chest. Then I moved down to the panties and gently removed them from her perfect ass. Standing, I picked her up in my arms and kissed her, as her arms twined around my neck. Then I carried her over to the bed and laid her gently down. She positively glowed, and my dick was so rigid it felt as if it might burst. I lowered my body next to hers and we kissed. I explored her body with my hands, and ended with three fingers shoved deep into the pussy, thrusting into her as she came. When I tried to remove my fingers, she smiled and shook her head no. So I kept going. I kept going through a total of eight orgasms, each seeming to be stronger than the last. Finally she lay there, exhausted and spent, as my dick strained against the bonds of my will and pointed itself directly at her sex. She twined her arms around my neck and kissed me softly, gently. "Gregory," she said, her breath passing into my open mouth. "My son." I kissed her harder, and pressed myself against her body. She couldn't help but feel my lust. She pushed me away and sat up, a shy smile on her face. "I think my pussy is done for the night," she said, to my intense frustration. She began piling up pillows near the center of the bed as she continued to speak. "But I promised you a treat, didn't I, stud?" I nodded dumbly and watched as her movements caused her tits to move and jiggle. "This is something I used to do for your Dad. I think you'll like it." And with that she lay down on her stomach, the piled pillows causing her ass to poke obscenely in the air. "I think there's some Vaseline in the cabinet... that should help." I got off the bed and returned with the Vaseline, still slightly puzzled until I saw her ass again, thrust into the air, the tiny rosebud of her asshole on clear display. I almost dropped the Vaseline as the realization hit me. Now, THIS I'd never done. I climbed on the bed, my intensely erect member wagging as the bed shifted, and scooped out a finger full of the Vaseline. Using my index finger, I gently spread it along her ass cheeks, focusing on the tiny asshole that was artfully on display. I even pushed a little into her ass, poking the tip in. Fascinated at the sight of my finger in her ass up to my first knuckle, I slid it in, little by little, until the entire finger was swallowed up by her clutching asshole. "That's nice," she purred with a fake pout as she looked over her left shoulder, "but I could have sworn your dick is bigger than that." I looked up her body, at her incredibly sexy ass, her quite intriguing back, and the beguiling profile of her face. Not to mention one finger buried up her backside. My dick positively quivered with anticipation as I got another scoop, gently extracted my finger, and slathered the Vaseline on my member. Then I edged forward until the tip of my dick was pointed straight at Ayano's ass, and gently pressed it into that tight little sphincter. It resisted, at first, spreading wider and wider as I pressed my dick forward. Then the tip disappeared into her ass, and I could feel it clutching frantically at me to draw me deeper. I complied, pushing forward and grunting with the effort until I bottomed out. The sight of my cock buried deeply into my mother's ass was amazing. She lay with her weight supported by her arms, breathing deeply as I began to move back out. I withdrew until only the tip remained, then thrust back into her. The feelings coursing through my cock as I fucked her ass were incredibly, and I knew I wouldn't last long. I fucked in and out of her ass, slowly at first, then picking up speed as her body trembled and the first sensations of orgasm began to flow through my cock. Her forehead was lying on the bed as she gasped, and she had one hand crammed backwards between her legs. I could see her fingers moving in and out of her pussy as I pumped strongly into her ass. My hands gripped her perfect hips, and I watched with growing euphoria as my mother's ass devoured my cock. My orgasm approached rapidly, building fast, and then suddenly struck with electrical intensity. I thrust in as deeply as I could go, sending stream after stream of my semen deep into her bowels. I surprised myself with the deep-throated shout that escaped my throat. All I could focus on was the climax, and it filled my soul with pleasure. When my climax was over, I collapsed onto my mother's back, saying her name in a breathless whisper. "Ayano, my precious Ayano." Over and over. My hands found her tits hanging down, and began playing with them idly. Her pleased chuckle washed over me, until finally I realized we had been lying like that for a long time. As if she could sense I was aware again, Ayano said, "Gregory, my son, would you mind taking your big, fat cock out of my ass?" She giggled when she said it, wiggling her cute butt side to side, and it prompted an answering laugh from me. "Yes, mother." And I did. The next morning it was time to disembark, and I did so with no regrets, taking with me some VERY pleasant memories of cruising. Well, some had to do with cruising. But here's the thing. I know it's only been a week, but now that we're back on shore, we're back to a normal mother-son relationship. We haven't had sex once, and it doesn't look like we will, either. I'm hoping the cruise I already booked for later this year will be just as fun as the first one was. Here's hoping! Ayasha's Beast All relationships through the duration of this story are over 18. any similarities are not on purpose. all characters belong to me and no one else. * The fragrance assaulted my sense of smell as I entered the meadow, a smile filtered across my face. The valley from afar could be mistaken as snow but once neared the small delicate flowers could be distinguished easily. The sweet aroma caused my eyelids to droop low while taking a deep breath. I could not stay away from this place, it offered comfort, tranquillity and peace, much what is missing from my life. I knew the risks involved in coming here. Once they figured I strayed from my tasks, dropping the orders I was given for today, I would be punished severely. But at this moment in time it mattered little to me, what's a few lashes? Of course the prospect of being caught and captured by any foreigners sent shivers down my spine. Who were they to come into the land of the Hoharna Tribe, smelling of sweat, alcohol and cigars, demanding the right to property? Worse was when they would try to seek 'entertainment' from us village women, weather willing or not. I held the urge to spit in their faces when they walked through the tribe seeking information from the chief man. I reluctantly turned my back on the meadow and made my way through the forest towards the little tribe I called home. The sun was sinking just as I saw the signs of the first of many camp fires, and the shouts from the many children playing along the forest edges. 'AYASHA!' someone bellowed my name causing the children to stop their play and stare at me. I picked up my pace towards the little brown hut as a fairly gray haired man stepped out, his face a deep purple. 'Where do you think you have been nituna?' he all but spat in my face. I went to reply but he cut me off. 'Playing again in that meadow of yours? Don't you dare deny it child, I can smell that sickening scent on you! I bet you didn't even gather any fruit on your silly hike' I looked down at my hands as if fruit would appear in them. I looked up at him once again to see his face a deeper purple. I'd give him a heart attack before his right time, I can swear by it. 'How are you supposed to impress Dyami when you scurry off like a child? You dishonour this family enough as it is' He stared into my face for a minute before turning and entering the hut once again. 'Go make yourself useful, help your mother prepare tonight's meal. If it isn't too much of a bother' he muttered through the door. I weaved through the many smiling villagers before seeing the frail women bending over a stack of firewood. 'Shima, give them to me. You will more likely pull your back out' I held out my arms as my mother ungracefully shoved the heavy wood into my opened arms. Yeap, there will defiantly be splinters. 'God child, where have you been? I have had to listen to your father all day...' I tuned her out as she gave her usual rant. I saw Dyami out of the corner of my eye staring at me. God it would have been easier if he wasn't so good looking. His high cheekbones and thick black hair that was braided down the centre of his head made him the most source of attention from the females in the tribe. But no matter what I thought of his looks I knew what he really was like; a pig of a man, wanting a beautiful wife to cook and clean, gives him his daily needs in bed while not uttering a word. Dyami saw women as more of a convenience then an offer of company. That just made my blood boil, women were good for more than that. What really made me hate the very sight of him was that I was arranged to be that woman. Soon flames erupted and the smell of deer filled the small tribe. I stayed away from both my parents trying not to evoke another fight. At least I wasn't lashed, that was a highlight. When the fire eventually died out, I headed towards my own hut seeking the comfort of my thick fur bedding. I sighed as I tugged at my beaded collar and drawstrings to release my trade cloth dress. Pulling at the ties around my hair, I let the thick black hair fall to my waist. Too exhausted to think of anything else, I fell on my bedding, getting lost in the thick hides. But I didn't fall asleep. Not when I heard the opening of my hut quietly open then shut. I took a deep breath, preparing to scream when I heavy hand covered my mouth. I squealed and pushed at the heavy body that fell on me all of a sudden. My eyes met Dyami's. I screamed even though his hand blocked out any sound. 'Bitch, if you don't shut your mouth you'll regret it' he whispered harshly into my ear. I stopped, too scared to met his wrath. 'Good girl, now if you wouldn't mind...' his hand trailed down his front towards his drawstrings of his pants. I couldn't help it, I screamed. His hand wrapped around my throat, but not before my scream was heard. Someone entered my hut seeking the problem. I could tell it was my father, by his rough gasp as he took in the sight. The hand disappeared around my neck but before I could say anything Dyami flung himself at the feet of my father. 'Oh wise one, forgive me, but your daughter... she was trying to seduce me into sleeping with her!' He looked back at me, hiding the smirk from my father who was now staring at me through murderous eyes. Such an act that Dyami just mentioned was one of the most disgraceful acts a daughter could commit. 'Please take mercy on me, for I know I'm supposed to be strong and fight the urge but your daughter... she was relentless in her act.' I just stared dumbly at the two men, too shocked to speak words. 'Do not worry Dyami; a woman's will is not to be messed with. She will be punished severely tomorrow to be taught a lesson. I hope this does not make you regret your decision to take her as your bride?' He looked down at Dyami, a hint of fear that he will regret his daughter, such a disgrace it would be to the family name. 'Of course not, wise one.' Dyami told him, getting off his feet, all signs of danger on his behalf now gone. 'I hope you just teach her what her rightful place is until our wedding night' With that he bowed respectfully and left the hut. The air was thick with loathing that seeped out of my father. I went to defend myself, but was stopped when my father's hand struck me on my cheek causing me to gasp back in fright. 'Just you wait for tomorrow child' he growled before turning on his heels, leaving me in tears. A/N : Yes another story. Please send feedback (: Some words you might not know: Nituna-daughter Shima- Mother