2 comments/ 3944 views/ 0 favorites Black Muslim Cuckoldress 01 By: Samuelx The wicked fun that otherwise conventional and conservative couples have behind closed doors, eh? The name is Farah Hussein and I'm a young Black Muslim woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I was born in the town of Mogadishu, Somalia, and raised in Ontario, and consider myself Somali-Canadian rather than merely Canadian. Not a day goes by that some ignorant white person doesn't remind me that I'm a foreigner in their eyes, so I might as well embrace my Somali cultural identity and my Islamic faith. Anyhow, enough about politics, I've got one helluva story to share with you. My boyfriend, University of Ottawa civil engineering student Rahman Sharif cheated on me with Genevieve Charles, a blonde-haired and blue-eyed fat white chick whom I thought was my best friend. Hell, I was the one who introduced Genevieve to Sharif. I met Genevieve in the police foundations program at Algonquin College, and we totally hit it off. Genevieve and I became inseparable while at Algonquin College. A lot of the white students on the Algonquin College campus are fake people or undercover racists as hell but Genevieve seemed genuinely cool with black people. During the two years that I've known her, Genevieve attended all the black student parties at Algonquin College and dated several brothers. I thought she was cool, but I was wrong. Genevieve was a shameless slut. The bitch betrayed me and I cut her out of my life. I took my boyfriend Sharif back but I am still determined to make his sorry ass pay. Don't believe all the shit you hear about Muslim women being submissive and weak. I sure as hell am nothing like that, even if I do wear the Hijab. One of the reasons why I am pissed off at Rahman is because I am a very sexual woman and I believe in taking care of my man's sexual needs. I am not like those other bitches who withhold the pussy from their man out of foolishness and then act surprised when they catch their man in bed with another bitch. I am a freaky Somali Muslim Hijabi, and my sexing is pretty damn good. The last time Rahman and I had sex, I totally killed it, if I dare say so. We were walking back to our apartment on Donald Street in Ottawa's east end, having gone to the local mosque for Friday evening prayers. Hand in hand, just like any normal couple, that was us. An old French lady walking by told Rahman and I that we made for a cute couple, and I smiled at my man and nodded, for I was in agreement. We do look good together. I stand five feet eleven inches tall, curvy and sexy, with light brown skin and long black hair which I always tuck away under my Hijab. I wear stylish and sexy clothes, and my fondness for Yoga pants is legendary. I don't care if it's considered Fitnah ( sinful temptation ) I like to wear tight pants that show off my big round ass. My boyfriend Rahman can't get enough of my thick Somali ass, and I loved that about him. Rahman actually had his hand on my ass as we walked up the street, and as soon as we got home, we got busy. Rahman didn't even wait for me to take off my shoes or my Hijab, the tall, lean and athletic Somali stud just grabbed me and started kissing me. I kissed Rahman back passionately, and then stroked his long and thick Somali dick through his masculine robes. I knelt before Rahman and began sucking on his dick. Rahman moaned softly and caressed my Hijab-covered head as I sucked his dick. I sucked my man off until he came and when he did, I drained him of his precious manly cum. Rahman sighed happily and winked at me. Am I good or what? Next, Rahman laid me on the carpeted floor of our living room, and I hiked up my skirt and yanked down my crimson panties. Rahman buried his handsome face between my legs, and began eating my pussy with gusto. I moaned in pleasure as Rahman licked and fingered my pussy. Soon the brother had me crying out in orgasmic delight. Rahman really, really knows his way around the female body and I absolutely love that in a man. After giving my pussy a tongue bath, Rahman put me on all fours and proceeded to kiss, lick and fondle that big ass of mine. My favorite Somali stud is an ass man, and I was delighted when Rahman spread my thick butt cheeks wide open and licked my butt hole. Rahman later worked that thick dick of his into my moist pussy while fingering my asshole. I absolutely love anal play, by the way. A lot of Muslim women like it up the butt but cannot admit it. I am not one of them. Even though anal sex is considered haram in Islam, I let Rahman fuck me up the ass regularly. What can I say? I loved the feel of Rahman's thick Somali dick up my butt hole. See? I am a freaky woman who loves sex! What man in his right mind would cheat on a woman like me? That's what I want to know, ladies and gentlemen. I guess it's true what they say. Some men just can't get enough! Now, if Rahman and I were still living in Somalia, where polygamy is the norm, I would have to accept his bullshit. Thankfully, we live in Ottawa, where women do have rights. Here's how I got back at Rahman. I took him to bed one night and asked him to try some kinky shit with me. Naturally, Rahman was totally cool with it. Rahman is always horny, and I decided to use that against him. The Somali stud can't resist his Somali goddess. That's part of the fun for me and I am going to enjoy tormenting Rahman. I tied him up to a chair, made sure he couldn't get out of his restraints, and then snapped a chastity device on that big ole chocolate dick of his. I then sprung a surprise on him. You should have seen the look on Rahman's face when I snapped my fingers and his buddy Bilal came out of the shadows. Bilal Said is a six-foot-tall, gorgeous Muslim scholar whom I met at Algonquin College. Born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, to a French Canadian mother, Marianne Lucas, and a Senegalese Muslim immigrant father, Ali Said, Mr. Bilal is absolutely mighty fine. The stud has an MBA from McGill University and teaches business administration at Algonquin College. Bilal has shown a lot of interest in me when I was his student and even introduced me to his parents when they visited the college but I always rebuffed the sexy biracial Muslim instructor's advances, until my boyfriend Rahman cheated on me. I, Farah Hussein, am going to cuckold my cheater of a boyfriend Rahman with my former professor Bilal. Rahman's eyes went wide when he saw Bilal, who smiled and waved at him. I stood there and kissed Bilal on the lips, then told Rahman exactly what I was going to do. Rahman struggled in his bonds but to no avail. Bilal and I got our freak on right in front of Rahman, and my Somali boyfriend watched us helplessly. I knelt before Bilal and stroked his big caramel dick, and blew Rahman a kiss while doing it. As I sucked Bilal's dick, Bilal taunted Rahman, who struggled furiously in his bonds but couldn't get enough of them. I laughed, mocking Rahman as I sucked Bilal's dick, and when Bilal finally came, I sucked every last drop of his cum. I winked at Rahman, and polished Bilal's dick with my mouth. Hmmm, is it me or does Bilal's cum taste much better than Rahman's? Oh, and I should mention that Bilal's dick is bigger, too! Next, Bilal bent me over, and got behind me, caressing my thick Somali ass as Rahman watched haplessly. I purred with contentment as Bilal kissed and licked my big ass, and then smacked it. All the things that I would normally let only Rahman do to me I let Bilal do, and more. As Bilal eased his thick dick into my cunt from behind, I watched the angry, hurt look on Rahman's handsome face. I almost felt bad for him. Almost. I thought of the pain I felt when I came home and found Genevieve sucking on Rahman's magnificent Somali dick, the dick I love, and the sheepish look on his face as I caught them together. The bastard had to pay, seriously! I urged Bilal to fuck me harder, and he was more than happy to oblige. Gripping my wide hips tightly, Bilal slammed his dick into my pussy. I moaned and screamed, crying out Bilal's name as he fucked me and he drilled my cunt until he came. After Bilal pulled out of me, I sucked his dick again. While polishing Bilal's dick, I saw a hurt look on Rahman's face and saw that he was crying. Smiling, I kissed Bilal on the lips and then he put his clothes back on, waved Rahman goodbye and left. I stood there, hands on my hips, and drank in the defeated look I saw on Rahman's face. I smiled wickedly, feeling pretty satisfied. What goes around comes around, you know? I undid Rahman's bonds, told him we were over and then I left. Vengeance accomplished for this Somali chick! Bet you Rahman will think twice before cheating on a female next time. Me? I'm out of there! Black Muslim Cuckoldress 02 As Salam Alaikum, people. The name is Farah Hussein and I'm a young Black Muslim woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I was born in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and raised in provincial Ontario. These days, I'm studying police foundations at Algonquin College, and life simply couldn't be better. I recently got out of a bad relationship. Actually, make that two bad relationships. Let me explain. My Somali ex-boyfriend Rahman Sharif cheated on me with my gal pal Genevieve Charles, and I dumped them both. I cuckolded Rahman with my former professor Bilal, and taught him a lesson he won't soon forget. When it comes to punishing those who've wronged me, whether male or female, black or white, I tend to be creative in a most wicked way. Don't piss off us Somali sisters, folks. Our vengeance is usually swift, creative and terrible. After my relationship with Rahman Sharif ended, I had a very low opinion of the male of the species, and basically shunned male company. Still, I felt lonely and as a highly sexual woman, it's not a pleasant feeling. I recently met a promising young man. You see, I was walking around Kanata, walking my cousin Yasmin's annoying poodle Marduk when a couple of young white dudes started harassing me, calling me a towel head and stuff. I cussed them out and they got pissed. The fools actually attacked me! I honestly don't know what would have happened if a certain brother hadn't jumped in. Tall, dark and handsome, the brother furiously waded into my attackers and actually fought them off. The brother looked at me and asked me if I was alright. I looked my rescuer up and down. Tall, well-dressed and handsome, the guy looked good, but I could tell that he wasn't Somali. In a deep voice that was French-accented, he asked me if I was alright. I smiled and nodded, and thus I met Roger Duchene, the Haitian stud who stole my heart. Ladies and gentlemen, I used to be one of those Somali Muslim sisters who swore that she would never date or have any dealings with men from outside the Somali community. Well, I was wrong. I thought that Rahman Sharif was the man for me, but he betrayed me with that fat white slut Genevieve Charles, and my faith in men basically vanished like ice in the sun. I honestly thought I would never open up to a man again, but Roger Duchene was different from just about every man I'd met up until that point. Roger Duchene, the chivalrous Haitian guy walked me and that annoying dog Marduk to my cousin Yasmin's house and wished me a goodnight. I found it odd that this gorgeous, masculine man didn't ask for my number but figured he was shy or something. I left it at that, and when I told my cousin Yasmin what happened, she was stunned. Yasmin apparently thought that Kanata was a safe place. Fuck that, I've seen more weirdoes in Kanata than in the east end of Ottawa where I live. The creeps live in the suburbs, not the frigging hood! I decided to creep Roger Duchene on Facebook, and easily found his profile. I found out quite a bit about Roger, and it was very surprising. Roger is twenty two years old, a civil engineering student at Carleton University and he was born and raised in the City of Montreal, Quebec, but moved to the City of Ottawa for school. Oh, and Roger Duchene had a rainbow flag as his wallpaper on his Facebook background, with the words "bisexual visibility" written below. I was stunned to see this. What the fuck is something like that doing on a young black man's Facebook profile? Now, in Somali culture, the word for gay men is "qaniis" and the word for gay women or lesbians is "qaniisad". We have such elements within Somali society but it's not like in the West, where girly guys and masculine females go around parading on the streets and shit. In Somalia, men who sleep with men and females who are sexually attracted to other females keep it to themselves. We are an Islamic nation, thank you very much. If you're gay or lesbian and you're in Somalia, you'd better act normal while in public and keep your damn mouth shut. Otherwise you might get stoned and I don't mean the fun way. I won't lie to you and say that I've never seen openly gay people in the African community. This Somali sister is not that naïve. I must say that the gay guys I met were usually girly and annoying, instead of tall, handsome and masculine like Roger Duchene. The Haitian brother mystified me. I decided to send him a friend request, along with a thank you note for saving my plump Somali ass from those racist white dudes out in Kanata. Imagine my surprise when Roger added me as a friend right away on Facebook, and wrote his number. I pondered over it, and then typed it into my iPhone and called Roger. The brother picked up immediately, and we ended up spending two hours on the phone. At the end of our lengthy conversation, I heard myself invite Roger to grab a bite with me at the Saint Laurent Mall food court, and the brother happily accepted. I don't normally do stuff like that but there's something different about Roger Duchene, and, um, even at this point, so early into our relationship, the Haitian brother had quite an effect on me! The next day, around noon, I took the bus to the Saint Laurent Mall and met with Roger Duchene at the food court. We grabbed some Chinese food from Manchu Wok, and sat down at the center of the crowded food court, and I must say, I liked what I saw and I don't mean the food. Roger Duchene looked really good in a red silk shirt, black silk pants and black Timberland boots. Oh, and the brother smelled good, too. We talked for a bit, and then I finally worked up the nerve to ask Roger Duchene the burning question. Was the tall, manly Haitian brother a fag? I didn't use those exact words, of course. Roger smiled and told me that he was bisexual, as in he slept with girls and guys. I was shocked, and bluntly asked him if he'd ever been with a man. Roger smiled and told me that he'd never had sex with anyone, male or female, but felt attracted to both sexes. Another stunner for me. I didn't know that someone could be bisexual AND a virgin. Wow! Promptly I changed the subject, and quizzed Roger about life at Carleton University, a school I was considering transferring to once I graduated from Algonquin College. I've heard great things about the criminology program at Carleton and as a police foundations major, it is right up my alley. Roger and I talked, and then the brother smiled and asked me if I had a boyfriend. I blushed, and shook my head. Roger grinned, flashing me that fearless smile of his, and then invited me to go catch a movie with him. Avengers II or something. What do you think I said? Roger Duchene and I went to the Silver City movie theater off of Blair Station, catching the 96 bus at Saint Laurent. Avengers II was fun, and I liked the fights between killer robots and superheroes, but what I really liked what Roger's company. The tall, fine Haitian brother was honest and open, a far cry from a certain Somali dude who lied to me and cheated on me. Now, I'm not a big fan of homosexuality since I consider it a sin, as do most Muslims, but I respected Roger's honesty. At the end of the movie, I thanked Roger Duchene for a wonderful time and the brother waited with me at the bus station. As my bus finally got there, I impulsively hugged Roger and he smiled. My heart skipped a beat when Roger looked into my eyes, and I smiled nervously and got on the bus. I waved Roger goodbye as the bus left for Vanier, where I live, and I smiled to myself. What a man, eh? As a Muslim woman, I believe that everything that happens in this world is the Will of the Most High. That's why I've decided to claim Roger Duchene as my own. The Haitian brother is tall and masculine, and from his body language, I could tell that he was attracted to me. I am going to cure Roger Duchene of his sexual confusion. Once the Haitian gets a taste of my sweet Somali pussy, he won't be bisexual or queer or whatever anymore. Yes, Somali pussy is THAT good. I swear it. Do wish me luck, though! Black Muslim Cuckoldress 03 As has often been said, men in unexpected situations think with what's between their legs, not their brains. As a woman, I am happy to report that this is true, at least a large percentage of the time, because it benefits me. Got one helluva story to share with you, ladies and gentlemen. I am Farah Hussein, a tall, curvy and lovely Somali-Canadian Muslim sister living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'm studying police foundations at Algonquin College, and I'm close to graduation. Oh, and I've got a new guy in my sights. The new guy in question is a tall, dark and handsome Haitian stud named Roger Duchene. How we met is truly one for the ages, ladies and gentlemen. After the end of my relationship with Rahman Sharif, the Somali dude who cheated on me with my ex-friend Genevieve Charles, a plump white slut, I shunned pretty much everyone. I went to Kanata to chill with my cousin Yasmin, and took her poodle Marduk out for a damn walk. While walking around suburban Kanata, something awful happened. I still shudder to think about it. I got hassled by these two racist white guys who apparently find tall, Hijab-wearing Muslim women like myself worthy targets for their rage, and a young Haitian guy named Roger Duchene intervened and saved me. Naturally, I wanted to get to know my savior better, and after creeping him on Facebook, I was stunned to discover that Roger Duchene, the manly Haitian guy who saved me, identifies as bisexual. Um, what the fuck, man? Guess it's true what they say, all the good ones are married or frigging gay. I was drawn to Roger Duchene for his sense of chivalry, his charm and good looks. We grabbed a bite together at the Saint Laurent Mall, and the Haitian stud actually took my breath away. Roger Duchene is tall, good-looking, masculine, respectful towards women, and a dedicated student in the civil engineering program at Carleton University. Oh, and although Roger identifies as bisexual, the dude claims to be a virgin. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? The way I figure it, if a man claims to love two things but hasn't had a taste of either, then how can he be sure that he likes either one? Perhaps if he's exposed to one and develops a liking for it, then he'll forget the other altogether. Such was my logic when I, Farah Hussein, a pious Muslim sister living in Ottawa, decided to seduce Roger Duchene, the Haitian stud who saved me from those racist bozos out in Kanata. I'm going to give him a taste of my sweet Somali pussy, and he'll forget all about that queer stuff. I know Roger is attracted to me. How do I know this? We women have our ways. As we ate together at Saint Laurent, I briefly excused myself to go to the washroom and caught Roger Duchene checking out my thick Somali female ass. Aha, the bisexual brother likes a big butt on females, eh? Good to know. That's very good news for what I had intended. My thick Somali derriere is a work of art, ladies and gentlemen. Wait till Mr. Haitian sees it up close. The brother won't know what hit him! Roger Duchene and I began seeing each other, going to movies and restaurants, and the more I learned about him, the more I liked him. Now, typically, Somali Muslim girls like myself don't associate with males from other cultures and faiths. As far as I know, all Haitians follow some branch of the Christian faith. I am a Muslim woman. Roger Duchene is a Christian guy. What the fuck are we doing going on dates? Well, I like Roger Duchene and he is good to me. The guy knows how to make a woman feel about herself. That's always a good quality in a man. Nope, my biggest issue with Roger Duchene wasn't his religion. Trust me, Muslim women like myself have been known to use our feminine wiles and charms on guys and convert them to the Islamic faith. Give a man some booty and wrap yourself in his mind and you'll have him eating out of your hand. As a woman, I am one hundred percent confident that if I drop a psycho-sexual whammy on any man, I can get him to change religions. Are my sexual powers enough to make a man change sexual orientations? I hope so but I am filled with doubts, and conventional wisdom states that you can't change someone's sexuality, especially a man's. Many women have tried to change a man's sexuality and failed. I've been reading on male bisexuality since I met Roger Duchene and everything I read states that guys who are gay or bisexual are born this way and cannot change. Dammit, what's a gal to do? The answer to my problems came quite unexpectedly. Roger Duchene and I were walking out of the Silver City movie theater, our favorite hangout, when the Haitian stud took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. A tingly sensation came all over me and I smiled nervously at Roger. Up until now, everything between us had been super platonic. Seriously, Roger showed zero sexual interest in me. To the point that I thought I must have imagined him checking out my ass that first time at the Saint Laurent Mall. Roger Duchene looked into my eyes and told me I was beautiful, and then he pulled me into his arms. Nice Somali girls who wear the Hijab aren't supposed to grope guys butts in public but I'd been dying to touch Roger for ages. We kissed passionately, and I told Roger I wanted him. Roger smiled at me and then we went into Wal-Mart. I went into the changing station, and after a few minutes, Roger followed me. We snuck into the booth, closed the door, and got busy. Now, quickies are fun but generally speaking they're not done in the most comfortable of places. I kissed Roger full and deep, and noticed that the Haitian stud was hesitant. I smiled and decided to guide him through this. After all, Roger Duchene, the bisexual Haitian brother, is still a virgin. I decided to rid him of his virginity. Taking Roger's hands, I placed them on my thick Somali ass, and he squeezed my cheeks. Grinning, I unzipped Roger's pants, freeing his long and thick dick. I held Roger's dick with both hands, marveling at its length. I blinked in surprise when I realized that Roger was uncircumcised. Since I've only dealt with Somali guys and the occasional Arab dude, I've never seen an uncut man before. Without hesitation I took Roger's dick into my mouth, and sucked it with gusto. The Haitian brother sighed happily as I sucked his dick, and I smiled and continued pleasuring Roger. I was thrilled and to be honest, kind of reassured that Roger Duchene responded to my sexual advances. Bisexual or queer or whatever, the brother's body reacted to my touch, and that made me happy. As I sucked Roger's dick, I looked up at him, and saw a big smile on his handsome face. Bet you this Haitian brother never had his big dark dick sucked by a Hijab-wearing Muslim sister before. Didn't take Roger long to cum and when he did, the brother shouted like a madman and erupted all over my face. The skinny Arab broad who was working at the changing station was alerted by the noise, and gasped as Roger and I bolted out of the booth. I bet we made for one awkward sight. A tall, well-dressed Haitian brother and a tall, curvy Somali sister with cum drops on her face and Hijab, rushing out of the damn store while readjusting our clothes. Yeah, I think Roger and I are pretty much banned from that Wal-Mart for life if you ask me. Roger Duchene and I made a mad dash for the Wal-Mart door, and didn't stop running until we reached the nearby OC Transpo bus station. We caught the 95 heading towards Baseline, and laughed after showing our bus passes to the driver. We sat in the middle of the bus, and laughed. I saw a bulge in Roger's pants and since the bus was empty at this time of night, I sat on his lap and kissed him. Roger Duchene and I made out and almost missed the Saint Laurent Mall bus stop. We got off there, as a crowd of people rushed into the bus, and we went upstairs. There, in the dark, we got busy. I knelt before Roger and sucked his hard dick, and hiked up my traditional Islamic long skirt, showing him my crimson panties. Roger smiled and then he kissed me, caressing my breasts through my T-shirt. The Haitian stud then pressed me against a wall, and swiftly entered me. I gasped as Roger's thick Haitian dick penetrated my sweet Somali pussy. For a guy who had never had sex before, Roger Duchene seemed to know just what to do. Oh, and he wasn't gentle either. Like a lot of first timers, Roger thought only of his pleasure at first. That's okay by me because I love rough sex, and I didn't mind getting pounded roughly by Roger Duchene's thick Haitian dick. I wrapped my arms around Roger and urged him to fuck me harder. Roger looked at me, a strange look on his handsome face. Tentatively he reached under my T-shirt and caressed my breasts and I smiled, moved by his innocence. I pressed my groin against his dick, driving him deeper inside of me. Roger fucked me with deep, long strokes, and then, for the second time that night, he came. Roger Duchene and I remained locked in a tight embrace for a good while, and the Haitian stud looked into my eyes, smiled, and then buried his face between my tits. I held him tight, and then it occurred to me that it was close to midnight and I needed to get my ass home. We parted ways, and Roger kissed me goodnight, then boarded the last 96 bus bound for Kanata from the Saint Laurent station. I blew him a kiss, and then began the long walk back to my spot in Vanier. Looks like this Hijab-wearing Somali Muslim sister seduced a bisexual dude. Am I frigging good or what?