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Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 01

By: Samuelx



Apparently, as a Saudi Arabian woman, I'm supposed to be soft and sweet, or so I have been told. My name is Amina Alzahrani and I'm a young woman of Saudi Arabian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I study bio-medical engineering at the University of Ottawa, and hope to become a corporate engineer one of these days. I left the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia in the summer of 2009, and haven't been back there since. These days, I'm a permanent resident of Canada and honestly, life couldn't be better. 

A lot of Saudis I meet in the City of Ottawa tell me that they miss home, and I honestly want to grab them and shake them for saying something so stupid. As if I could ever miss my uber-strict parents, Ahmed and Khadija Hassan or my ex-husband Samir Alzahrani back in my hometown of Yanbu, or the restrictive environment I called home for the first twenty years of my life. Ha! I came to Ottawa as an international student and decided right then and there that I didn't want to go back to Saudi Arabia, a land where women are little more than slaves.

It has often been said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, that's the only explanation I have for why some Saudi women living outside the Kingdom's borders often reminisce about their old lives. As if I could miss living in a place where I need a male's permission to work, travel, or even step out of the damn house. Hell, some women in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia can't even FART without male permission. Alright, I'm kind of exaggerating on that one but not by much. Trust me on that one.

Here I am now, thousands of miles from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, living life my way. I don't bother wearing a Hijab anymore, even though I did during the first year I spent in Ottawa. Old habits die hard, even for an empowered and liberated woman like myself. I still believe in Allah, the one true God, but have definitively walked away from the tenets of Islam. Why? Please allow me to explain.

To me, Islam has moved away from its core message of unity and fallen into fundamentalism. Look at what's happening across the Islamic world. Sunnis and Shiites are slaughtering each other, and even among these groups, splintering groups and factions are killing one another over minute differences. That's not what the Prophet Mohammed wanted, no Muslim will ever convince me of that. 

In the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, the predominantly Sunni monarchical government is persecuting the Shiite minority, keeping them in line, I guess. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is the Heartland of Islam, we are the Chosen People who hold the Holy Sites, essential to the Muslim faith, and yet the way we treat each other, and fellow Muslims from other places, makes me shudder with anger at the sheer injustice of it all.

No, I cannot in good conscience continue to be a part of that. I respect Judaism and Christianity, but steer clear of them as well. The Eurocentric mindset I see at work in mainstream Christianity, particularly Roman Catholicism, the largest group among modern Christians, irks me. Jesus Christ the Messiah, whom I call by his Arabic name Isa Al Masih, was a brown-skinned Jew who lived in what is today called Palestine, the most hotly disputed piece of real estate in the world. The blond-haired and blue-eyed Teutonic white dude that Christians pray to, I honestly don't know who that is.

I prefer to live my life my way, and only God can judge me. I pray daily, but without any holy books, or the need to go a particular building. To me, God is not bound to mosques, or churches, or synagogues. The Creator of the Universe has always been around, and He existed long before Man reached out to Him. Did Adam, the first man, father of mankind, pray in a mosque, a church or a synagogue? I find that extremely doubtful. In all likelihood, Adam prayed to the Creator at a secluded spot in the woods, or someplace like that, and the Lord heeded his prayer. 

I think that whether a person is Jewish, Christian, Muslim or Agnostic or whatever, it's the sincerity of the person's heart and the piety behind their prayer, that matters, rather than their religious affiliation or the type of building that they pray in. Of course, those are just my thoughts as an ordinary woman trying to make my way in a harsh world, ladies and gentlemen. I left the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia behind, and embraced my new life in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, but it hasn't been without its challenges. 

A lot of people living outside Canada think it's a perfect place full of friendly, tolerant people. Well, trust me, it's anything but. Ontario, the most immigrant-friendly province in all of Canada, can be a hostile place at times. There are lots of newcomers, people hailing from places like Africa, the Arab world, Southern Asia, the Caribbean and Latin America. These people tend to flock to the major cities such as Toronto, Ottawa, Hamilton and the like. Now, these traditionally white towns have been flooding with non-white immigrants, their demographics are starting to change, and not everyone is happy about that. 

People are always afraid of what they don't understand. I am a Saudi woman, the fact that I broke away from Saudi culture and walked away from the tenets of Islam ( while nevertheless hanging onto my faith in God ) doesn't change the fact that in the eyes of white Canadians, I'll always be the cultural other. I stand five feet nine inches tall, decidedly on the voluptuous side, with dark bronze skin, long black hair and light brown eyes. I am a person of color, what Canadians call a visible minority, and nothing can change that fact. 

In Canada, white people tend to be passive-aggressive with their racism rather than purely in-your-face about it. I don't wear the Hijab or traditional Islamic clothing anymore. Hell, I developed a fondness for knee-high skirts and long-sleeved T-shirts with political or sports figures on them, and I am damn proud of it. I have several Che Guevara T-shirts. I still stand out in a crowd of white Canadians and many of them stare at me like I'm something other than human. Covert hostility is the Canadian way. That's very different from what I experienced in the United States, which I visited last year.

I went to the City of Buffalo, New York, and spent eleven days in town. I stayed at the Embassy Suites Hotel. I spent my time walking around Buffalo, one of the most racially segregated places I've ever been to, and couldn't believe the toll that the recession had taken on this once thriving town. I shopped at the Galleria Mall, and spoke to Americans of all hues. Many of them thought I was Hispanic, but I assured them that I'm a Saudi Arabian woman. One who's been living in Canada for the past few years.

Now, living in Canada, I heard all kinds of unpleasant things about the United States. To Canadians, Americans are a bunch of trigger-happy, arrogant bozos. Given what I'd seen on the news about racial shootings of unarmed minority males by trigger-happy white cops in the City of Ferguson, Missouri, I was inclined to believe the Canadian viewpoint that the United States of America was a dangerous place.

In Buffalo, New York, I met a lot of friendly people, and most of them were African-American. One of them I shall never forget until the day that I die. Tyrone Ferguson is his name. A security guard at the Galleria Mall who helped me find my way back to my hotel after I'd gotten lost while walking around Buffalo. The big and tall, dark-skinned young man went above and beyond to help me, this on one of the coldest winter nights ever, and I thanked Allah for sending me such an angel to save me.

Thank you brother, I told Tyrone, who smiled and nodded gratefully after walking me back to my hotel. We exchanged names and pleasantries prior to arriving at our destination. Tyrone wished me good luck, and said he had to get back to work. Apparently, he works the overnight shift at the Galleria Mall. I watched him go, a beautiful, dark-skinned brother with a heart of gold. The man everyone in the United States of America was taught to hate and fear because of his size and skin color is a decent, kind-hearted man who helps a hapless woman in need. This was my first experience with an African-American man, and I found him kind and decent. 

I returned to Ontario, Canada, with a lot of fond memories of Buffalo, New York. I thought I'd never see Tyrone Ferguson again, and returned to my quiet life in Ottawa. So you can imagine my surprise when one day, while I sat inside the busy food court of Billings Bridge Mall having coffee, I was approached by a vaguely familiar giant. Hello Amina, said a deep, masculine voice. I looked up and gasped, for the voice belonged to a man whose face I would never forget.

Tyrone, I said breathlessly, looking him up and down. There he was, the tall, dark and handsome young giant from New York. Clad in a black leather jacket over a red silk shirt, black silk pants and boots, Tyrone looked absolutely fantastic. Once I caught my breath, I smiled and invited him to join me. Tyrone smiled and nodded, happily joining me. Seriously, dude was the last person I expected to run into at Billings Bridge, that's for damn sure. 

Tyrone and I sat down, and talked. I looked at this handsome young man, and was filled with questions. What was he doing here? Tyrone told me that after graduating from Buffalo State College with a bachelor's degree in accounting, he looked for work and couldn't find it. That's why I came to Canada for my MBA, Tyrone said, and he pulled a small white card out of his wallet. I looked at the card. It had Tyrone's picture on it, along with the Carleton University logo, and his new student number. Congratulations brother, I said with a smile, then handed the card back to Tyrone.

Tyrone Ferguson smiled at me, and for some reason, my heart skipped a beat. I'm a twenty-seven-year-old divorcee and definitely no spring chicken, but something about this tall and dare-I-say beautiful young African-American man was making me nervous. We talked about life, and studies. I'm in graduate school at the University of Ottawa, and although I'm somewhat lonely, life is okay. I had so many questions for Tyrone. What could prompt a black guy born and raised in America to move to Canada's Capital?

Tyrone smiled and gently touched my hand, a gesture that surprised me, and smiled before answering. I became curious about Canada after meeting you my dear Amina, he said, grinning. Upon hearing those words, and seeing that fearless smile on Tyrone's handsome face, my heart skipped a beat. Very good answer Mister Tyrone, I said with a smile, sipping the last dregs of my morning coffee. Very good answer indeed.

It's often been said that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Well, I say that when life sends a handsome, tall and masculine, chocolate-flavored American stud your way, if you're a lonely Saudi Arabian chick who hasn't gotten laid in ages, you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Tyrone Ferguson of Buffalo, New York, was just what the doctor ordered, ladies and gentlemen. That fateful morning at Billings Bridge, we added each other on Facebook and exchanged numbers.

I promised Tyrone I'd be his guide in all things Ottawa, but I didn't start showing him the city till much later. You see I was, um, too busy giving him a proper welcome to Ottawa in a most carnal way. I was showing him a good time in the bedroom, and let me tell you, the brother from New York made my toes curl. I was purring with contentment by the time Tyrone was done with me, ladies and gentlemen.

Tyrone and I tried to set a world record on our first roll in the hay, so to speak. I think that's what we unconsciously tried to do, seriously. Three days after our fateful encounter at Billings Bridge, I invited Tyrone to my apartment in the Meadowlands for some tea. I greeted the African-American stud in a crimson negligee, and let me tell you, we didn't drink any tea.

Tyrone and I went to bed, and had ourselves some fun. I laid the gorgeous chocolate stud on my bed, and explored every inch of his sexy body. Like a lot of Arab women out there, I've got a thing for black men but as long as I lived in an Arab country, I could never explore my lust for the chocolate brotherhood. In Saudi Arabia, and most Arab countries, you see lots of Arab men with African women but you seldom see African men with Arab women. That's not by accident. Arab guys HATE seeing "their" women with men of other races, trust me.

At long last, I got to quench my thirst for some chocolate. I kissed Tyrone full and deep, and licked him from his head to his toes. I loved the smell and taste of his fine body. African-descended men are so masculine and beautiful, their bodies are like works of art. I inhaled the masculine musk around Tyrone's groin, and stroked his long and thick, uncircumcised dick. 

A lot of Muslim women find uncut men repulsive. I don't. The only other guy I've slept with since moving to Canada is a Mexican immigrant named Enrique Chavez, and he was uncut. Unfortunately for me, Enrique moved to Alberta for work. I missed Enrique and his big brown dick sorely, but fate provided me with a much-needed replacement. Tyrone Ferguson, the fine brother I met at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York. I am so thankful to have him back in my life...

That's why I sucked Tyrone's long and thick, dark dick with gusto. Groaning softly, Tyrone raked his fingers through my long, curly dark hair. Hair I spent years hiding underneath a Hijab. Happily I sucked his dick and licked his balls, and when Tyrone warned me that he was about to cum, I stopped sucking and waited. Finally, Tyrone came and when he did, I welcomed his cum with an open mouth.

I drank every last drop of Tyrone Ferguson's cum, and then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked up at him. Come here, Tyrone said, a wry grin on his handsome face. Pulling up in his strong arms, Tyrone kissed me, and then I straddled him. Fuck me Habib, I whispered, loving the feel of Tyrone's strong hands on me. His hands caressed my tits, and playfully smacked my thick Saudi Arabian derriere. 

I hissed in pleasure as Tyrone squeezed my big ass cheeks, and I grabbed his dark, handsome face. Fuck me already, I said, and it was a demand, not a request. Tyrone nodded, and thrust his hard dick into my cunt without so much a word. I gasped in surprise as Tyrone's thick dark dick suddenly entered me, and sighed happily as I felt a sharp pain followed by wicked pleasure. At last, I said, grinning happily and wrapping my arms around Tyrone's torso.

Just like that, I began riding Tyrone. The chocolate stud from Buffalo, New York, thrust his hard dick deep inside of me, stabbing my cunt with his thick dark sword, and I cried out in sheer pleasure. My pussy had gone without for a long time, and Tyrone's dick was just what I needed. You've got to understand that I'd gone without a man's touch for almost a year. 

I'm just being open and honest here. I haven't gotten laid since Enrique Chavez left Ottawa for the oil sands of Alberta. I missed the Mexican and his dick terribly. No more. For I found another mighty dick to ride on, one that belongs to a beautiful specimen of man. Tyrone Ferguson, the stud of my dreams. And the African-American Adonis definitely did not disappoint. Tyrone pounded away at me, filling my cunt with his thick dick, and I howled in pleasure, for I loved every minute of it.

Much later, Tyrone put me on all fours, smacked my big butt and fucked me doggy style. I absolutely love getting fucked like this. I think it's the animalistic intensity of it. Tyrone got really aggressive with me, smacking my ass and pulling my hair as he rammed his dick into my cunt. I squealed in delight and moaned deeply, urging Tyrone to fuck me harder. I loved the feel of Tyrone's dark dick inside of me and if loving it was wrong then I definitely didn't want to be right. For real, as they say in this part of the world.

Passion is something no human being should live without, ladies and gentlemen. Thanks to Tyrone Ferguson, the handsome brother from Buffalo, New York, this lonely Saudi Arabian divorcee has passion back in her life. We became an item, and spend a lot of time together. For ages I'd gone without someone to go to movies with, someone to go to restaurants with, someone to make love to and someone to hold. Tyrone's presence in my life filled all those holes, pun intended. 

When we're out together, people tend to stare. Although still a mostly white town, Ottawa has become quite diverse in recent years. Lots of Somalis, Haitians, Jamaicans, Lebanese, Indians, Latinos, Chinese and other ethnic minorities in town. Yet you seldom see lots of interracial couples among the different minority groups. It's far more frequent to see an Indian woman with a white man or a Chinese woman with a white man than with a black guy. Lots of minority women are brainwashed into hating black men. I'm happy to say that I'm not one of them. 

To me, Tyrone Ferguson is beautiful, and more than that, he's actually a decent human being. The guy treats me right, takes excellent care of me and more importantly, Tyrone supports my dream of one day becoming a corporate engineer. That's why I support him as he pursues his MBA at Carleton University. It's not easy for Tyrone as an international student from the United States. Carleton University typically charges international students five times what local students pay. 

Tyrone doesn't complain but I know things are tough for him. On top of his studies at Carleton University, Tyrone is working for not one but two security companies in Ottawa. Just to make ends meet. What a brave guy! I feel bad when Tyrone buys me expensive gifts but he's very old-fashioned and won't take no for an answer. In Tyrone's eyes, the man should pay when a couple is out, not the woman. To make my boo's life easier, I've decided to file for him to become a permanent resident of Canada. Once that happens, Tyrone Ferguson will pay the same rates Canadian students pay. What can I say? I think I'm in love with the Buffalo brother. I don't want him going back to New York when he's done. I want Tyrone to stay in Ottawa, with me. I want us to have a life together. Wish us luck, eh? 

Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 02



I'm honestly starting to think that this voluptuous, seemingly innocent yet sinfully sexy Saudi Arabian broad invented sex. Oh, in case you're wondering who this is, my name is Tyrone Ferguson. I'm originally from Buffalo, New York, and recently moved to Ottawa, Ontario, to study for my MBA at Carleton University. A while ago, I met an amazing lady who simply changed my life. Going to tell you all about her.

I met Amina Alzahrani, the tall, curvy chick from Saudi Arabia while working as a security guard at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York. This broad was walking up and down the street, looking lost. Fearing for her safety, I approached her. Amina told me that she was lost, and was desperately trying to find her way back to the Embassy Suites Hotel. Like the friendly gentleman that I am, I offered to help her.

Little did I know that this encounter would change both of our lives. At the time, though, I thought nothing of it. I walked Amina Alzahrani to her hotel, and she thanked me profusely before walking back in. I watched her go, taking note of Amina's mesmerizing thick ass. I hadn't met too many Arab women in my lifetime. In Buffalo, New York, we've got blacks and whites and Mexicans, that's about it. 

I went back to the mall, where I worked as a security guard on the overnight shift. I had plenty to occupy me in those days. I was in my fourth year at Buffalo State College, and was thinking about the future. The recession hit Buffalo, New York, pretty hard a while back. You see a lot of boarded up houses in my part of town. Unpaved roads, entire sections of town fallen into disarray. Buffalo is one of the most segregated towns in America. The black half is suffering economic strife and the white half is flourishing. I hate it but that's a fact of life.

A while ago, I met this Mexican dude named Jose Gutierrez, an illegal immigrant who was staying at that immigrant shelter, Vive La Casa. Dude told me about his family which was waiting for him in Toronto, Ontario. Look, I was born and raised in America and I kind of envied Jose when he told me how well his wife Maria and their daughter Arianna were doing in Toronto. Apparently, they were granted refugee status by the Canadian government and recently got their permanent residence cards. That's why Jose's wife Maria filed for him to come to Canada from the States. Poor dude spent a decade away from his loved ones, working under the table. Still, at least Jose Gutierrez had something to look forward to.

Me? I'm an orphan. I was raised by the foster care system, and bounced from one home to another all over the State of New York. After high school, I won a scholarship to Buffalo State College. I've always been gifted when it comes to numbers, so stuff like business and accounting always appealed to me. I figured I could study that in college, and make something of myself. Never had anyone to believe in me. I always believed in myself. Foster parents, whether black or white or Asian, never gave a damn about me. 

After four years at Buffalo State College, I'd grown as a man. At my school, I met a lot of people of all colors. I sat in classrooms filled with white students, matched wits with them and held my own. I became more confident as a result. The United States of America has always hated the black man but it is my firm belief that if you apply yourself in the higher education system, you just might make it. 

Too often, a lot of black folks in America have a defeatist attitude. I saw a lot of brothers and sisters who had their parents around growing up but never made anything of themselves. Me? I always believed in myself. Nobody out there believes in us black men so we've got to believe in ourselves. Am I right or am I right? Yes, there is racism. Yes, we're discriminated against. Yes, we live in a fucked up world where cops can choke a man to death, on camera, and not get charged as a result. So what? We've got to keep on fighting and keep on living. We can't give up. 

That self-belief has taken me many places. I graduated from Buffalo State College with honors, and then began looking for work. I couldn't find a job in Buffalo, or even places as far away as Copiague, New York City, or Elmira. I applied everywhere, man. I think having a name like Tyrone Ferguson pretty much marks me as Black with a capital B, that's why I didn't hear back from a lot of potential employers. Even in the Age of Obama, discrimination is alive and well in the United Snakes of America. Oops, I meant the United States of America. My bad, dear readers.

Anyhow, after graduating from Buffalo State College, I decided to do some traveling. See the world as an educated brother, you know? I was no longer an orphan, dependent on the foster care system and government handouts to survive. I got promoted to supervisor at the security company I worked for. Making sixteen dollars per hour isn't bad, especially when most people around me only made ten bucks per hour and sometimes not even that. Still, I didn't want to be a rent-a-cop for the rest of my life.

I had about five thousand dollars saved in my Bank of America checking account, so I took my credit card, and a car, and some clothes, and hit the road. That's how I crossed into Ontario, Canada, via the Lake Erie border. I'd lived in Buffalo, New York, right next to the Canadian border for most of my life and yet I'd never even been to Canada. How fucked up is that? I drove all the way to Toronto, supposedly Canada's largest and most racially diverse city, and experienced a brand new world.

While in Toronto, Ontario, I met all kinds of folks. I used to think I know what the black experience is all about but after staying a few months in Toronto, and meeting Haitians, Somalis, Ethiopians, Jamaicans and other black folks from distant countries, people who spoke different languages, followed different religions and had different cultures, I learned a thing or two about black life. Blackness is universal, but it all depends on your culture. How a Haitian-American woman from Miami, Florida, sees the world differs from how a Somali dude who just moved to Canada from Mogadishu sees it. 

I think I started falling in love with Canada after meeting black Canadians from all walks of life. Somalis. Eritreans. Jamaicans. Haitians. Afro-Arabians. Afro-Brazilians. Hot damn, Toronto's got them all! I decided to move to Toronto, and applied for a study permit and a work permit. I applied to the University of Toronto, intent on getting my MBA there. Sadly, it wasn't meant to be.

Those fucked up bastards at Buffalo State College sent my transcripts out too late and the admissions department at U of T told me I'd have to wait the following year to reapply. Fuck that. I tried to get into Ryerson University and York University and both told me the same damn thing. I didn't want to spend a year in Canada without going to school. I firmly believe that if you don't use your brain for worthwhile intellectual pursuits, you might lose it. I think brains rust over time without stimulation. I might be wrong now but I don't think so. I looked through the Ontario Universities Application Center. There are lots of schools listed there. Surely one of them was still taking in applications?

I applied to the University of Ottawa and apparently their deadline had already passed. Only choice I had left was Carleton University. At the time, I didn't know Jack about Carleton University or the City of Ottawa, Ontario, where the school was located. All I know is that Carleton has an MBA program. I prayed their deadline hadn't gone by. I sent them my transcripts, and was overjoyed when, a few weeks later, I got an answer from them in the mail. Welcome to Carleton University's Sprott School of Business, the letter said. Dude, I started tap dancing, I was so happy.

I'd gotten into Carleton University, and decided to move to Ottawa. Since Toronto didn't want me, I might as well give the Canadian capital a shot. Someone forgot to tell me that Ottawa is mad small, lacks excitement, is full of boring, narrow-minded white people, and oh yeah, it's fucking boring as hell! I moved there, and found an apartment. I needed to find a job fast since I was down to my last twelve hundred bucks. 

With my work permit, I hit places like Canadian Tire, Loblaw's and Home Depot looking for work. I'd already tried major businesses and been told that although I had a valid college degree from an accredited American school, I lacked Canadian experience and Canadian citizenship so they couldn't hire me. Are you kidding me? I'm qualified for the job, who cares where I come from? Fuck Canada! Canada is even more racist than America, if you ask me. Canadians are just better at hiding it behind their fake smiles.

The only place that would offer me a job was Securitas Canada. I used to work for Securitas in New York, and had Stacey Kennedy, my old manager mail my resume and references to the Securitas office in Ottawa. Yay, I left buffalo, NY, for Ottawa, Ontario, to become a rent-a-cop. I've got a bachelor's degree from Buffalo State College, but that doesn't seem to matter to Canadian employers. Oh maybe it's because I'm a black American man. Whatever. I joined Securitas and became a security guard, for twelve bucks an hour. Life is funny, isn't it?

Well, my Canadian journey was off to a rocky start. I didn't conquer the land like I thought I would. Canadians hate everything American, I swear, there's some jealousy at work in their hearts. I swore to myself I'd make it though. The good thing about Ottawa is that you don't hear about cops shooting minority males every ten seconds. 

I swear, it's open season on black men across the United States America and the biased, deeply racist justice system and President Obama's toothless Department of Justice let racist white cops get away with murdering brothers. If President Obama told the useless D.O.J. to prosecute at least one racist white cop, then the others might get the message and stop shooting our brothers for fun. Sadly, he doesn't have the balls to do it. 

That's one thing I don't miss about the United States of America, the once-a-day racial shootings. Oh, shit still happens in Canada but it's rare. In the U.S. racist white cops shoot an unarmed black man every sixty seconds, I swear. I heard about cops shooting an Arab dude named Sammy Yatim in Toronto. Much to my surprise, the cop got charged with murder. In Canada, trigger-happy white cops who shoot minorities can actually get charged with murder? Man, I take back what I said about this country. As a black American man, I love Canada already! 

I was slowly adjusting to life in my new town when fate and happenstance threw me a curve. Or should I say curves? I was at the Billings Bridge Mall, chilling when I saw a very familiar face. That of a woman I swore I'd never forget. Amina Alzahrani, the tall, pretty-faced and big-booty Arab chick I met at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York, a year ago. I approached her, and Amina's fearless smile stopped me dead in my tracks.

The Saudi Arabian cutie looked me up and down, smiled and asked me to join her. I sat down opposite Amina Alzahrani, and then, for the next couple of hours, we talked. Some meetings change your life, whether you like it or not. I never thought I'd run into Amina again. Hell, I'd almost forgotten about the Arab woman with the thick derriere until I saw her at Billings Bridge. Sparks flew between us, and I guess, the rest is history, as they say...

Amina Alzahrani was just what I needed, man. We provided each other for solace in the coming days, and I must say, the Saudi Arabian gal delighted me in every way. Paying for international student fees at Carleton University's Sprott MBA program isn't easy, especially given my salary as a security guard. I continued to send my resume to prospective employers, emphasizing my U.S. college degree but seldom heard from them. Feels like the whole world is against me, seriously.

One thing that kept me going? Having someone like Amina Alzahrani in my life. The Saudi Arabian gal was just what the doctor ordered. Taking refugee in her loving arms after a battle-weary day does wonders for a brother. Kissing me and holding me tight, Amina assured me that everything would be okay. Looking into her dark eyes, I saw her sincerity. Truth be told, I've never had anyone care for me. Sure, I've fucked my share of girls, both black and white, while in college but nothing serious.

Relationships aren't something I've ever given much thought to. As an orphan and a black male at that, forever on the margins of Buffalo's decidedly segregated society, I never put much stock in relationships. Black or white, people left me cold. I didn't know how to give or receive affection. The hookup culture at Buffalo State College suited me just fine.

I never wanted more, or thought there might be more to life, to sex and to relationships...until I met Amina. Even though we came from different worlds, the Red Sea port town of Yanbu, Saudi Arabia, and Buffalo, New York, couldn't be more different from one another as towns, and yet, Amina Alzahrani totally gets me. When I told her in my arms, I feel more than lust and passion....I feel alive.

Earlier, Amina Alzahrani fucked like jackrabbits, man. I laid the Saudi cutie on my bed, spread her shapely thighs wide open and then began munching on her hairy, sweaty cunt like there was no tomorrow. Amina squealed in delight as I licked her pussy while fingering her. A lot of men don't like foreplay but I am not one of them. I love eating pussy. Fuck, I love every inch of the female body. And I absolutely couldn't get enough of Amina's. For real.

After I finished polishing her cunt with my tongue, Amina Alzahrani smiled lustfully and told me to fuck her. Happily I put my Saudi Arabian cutie on all fours, and licked her big butt, smacking it a bit before sliding my thick dick into her cunt. I fucked her hard, pulling her hair and slammed my dick into her. We went at it like this for a while, screaming passionately while fucking. Much later, Amina and I lay side by side, spent.

Still not sated, Amina Alzahrani resumed sucking my dick, and this time, fingered my asshole while going down on me. Man, before I met Amina, I used to think that Muslim women were chaste and pure, but now I know better. Amina is one freaky mama, I found that out firsthand when she pulled out a butt plug and asked me if she could fuck my ass with it. I hesitated, then smiled and shrugged. Shoot, I'll try anything once...almost.

Yup, that's how I found myself lying there, with Amina Alzahrani sucking my black dick while working her butt plug into my asshole. Look, it's not something I want to try every damn day but it was a lot of fun. I'll admit that much. The experience was pleasurable in a way that was most unexpected. Pleasures I hadn't thought myself capable of experiencing. Amina asked me how I felt later and I assured her that it was fun.

Yeah, Amina Alzahrani and I are wicked together, and I wouldn't have us any other way. The Saudi Arabian MILF is an injection of life into my otherwise dreary existence. We're good for each other, and not just in the bedroom. We spend a lot of time together, going to movies, restaurants and malls together, and also hanging out at each other's schools. Thanks to Amina's decision to file for me to get my permanent residence, I just might be able to graduate from Carleton's Sprott School of Business sooner than I thought. How about that? I love my Saudi cutie! 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 03



Seriously, as much as I love men, sometimes they have completely unrealistic expectations of us women. We're not perfect and never claimed to be, but guys have yet to get the memo on that. How else would you explain my boo, my darling lover Tyrone Ferguson's reaction to me when I got up from his bed in the middle of the night to take a shit? 

My name is Amina Alzahrani, and I'm a Saudi Arabian woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I study bio-medical engineering at the University of Ottawa, and I'm madly in love with Tyrone, an African-American stud whom I met in Buffalo, New York. The brother treats me great, he's wonderful in the sack and we get along famously. Problem is the dude is a little too unrealistic for me...

I got up from the bed, took a look at Tyrone who lay slumbering, smiled and walked to the nearby washroom. I pulled down my panties, sat down on the toilet and sighed in relief as the piss I'd been holding shot out of me like water from a cannon. Seriously, my vagina felt pleasurably sore as a result. I wasn't done yet, though. I farted, and then took a dump. Nothing unusual there, women take dumps daily.

I finished my business, wiped my ass, flushed the toilet twice for good measure and then washed my hands with soap and water. I readjusted my clothes, which consisted of a sleeveless blue T-shirt and crimson panties, and got back to bed. I found Tyrone wide awake, looking at me with an odd look on his face. Did you just fart? he asked, wrinkling his nose.

I looked Tyrone up and down, with my hands on my hips. Nope I just took a dump, I said very smugly, looking into Tyrone's soulful brown eyes. Tyrone sighed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. Pulling the covers, he tried to go back to sleep. I wasn't having it. We got a problem? I asked him, rather pointedly I might ask. Nope we're cool sweetie, Tyrone said, flashing me a fake smile. I cocked an eyebrow, bit my lip and nodded. 

Men, I thought, rolling my eyes as I tried to go back to sleep. I couldn't fall asleep because I was too busy thinking up ways to get back at Tyrone Ferguson. My sweet chocolate prince, if you can't stand the fact that your favorite voluptuous middle-eastern goddess has to take a shit once in a while, then you can't get a shot at my ass. That big, round and juicy Saudi derriere of mine isn't just for sitting and being kissed, licked, fondled and fucked. I also take a shit with it at least once a day. Understand?

Lying next to me, Tyrone Ferguson snored louder than a herd of camels. I'm from Saudi Arabia, and where I come from, that's saying something. Brother was loud, man! I closed my eyes, hard. That's something else about Tyrone that pisses me off. His damn snoring. I snore too, don't get me wrong, but Tyrone's snores really take the damn cake. I've taken to wearing earplugs just so I can get some sleep.

Morning came, and I woke up with a splitting headache and hazy eyes. All the signs of a night spent without sleep. I had class at eleven o'clock and again at three, and then I'd head to the call center where I work for an overnight shift. I work for a call center for one of Canada's largest banks, located not far from the Blair Station in the east end of Ottawa. The job pays seventeen bucks an hour, which isn't bad at all since I'm still in university. 

I showered, and got dressed. Today I felt like dressing up traditional, something I rarely do. I put on a long-sleeved red sweater, along with stylish black silk skirt, black leather boots, and a simple black hijab. I seldom wear the hijab anymore since I no longer consider myself Muslim. I believe in Allah, the one true God, but not the tenets of Islam. Too much politics and division among Muslims today. The reason why Islam can never conquer the West is because Muslims are too busy fighting each other.

I was right about to leave the house when Tyrone finally woke up. Good morning sexy lady, Tyrone said, getting up out of bed and looking me up and down with a wolfish grin on his dark, handsome face. As Salam Alaikum Tyrone I was just about to leave, I said with a smile. Tyrone looks good in the buff, his gorgeous chocolate-hued body glistening and rippling in the morning sunlight. My chocolate Adonis. 

Come here sexy, Tyrone said, and walked up to me, and my heart skipped a beat. For Tyrone is a vision of masculine beauty. Tall, broad-shouldered and strongly built, with a handsome face, and most importantly, a long and thick, uncut dick swinging from between his legs. Tyrone pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I kissed him back, and was about to tell him that I had to get to work but then Tyrone started caressing me and, um, I forgot what I was about to say...

Seriously, it was nine in the morning and I had class in two hours and I had an assignment to brush up before turning in to the professor...but I forgot all that the moment Tyrone Ferguson pulled me into his arms and started caressing me and feeling on my butt. How in hell did I find myself on the kitchen floor, my traditional Islamic skirt hiked up, with Tyrone munching on my wet pussy? Weird how these things happen, I swear.

Tyrone flashed me a wry grin, pausing to gloat silently before he resumed licking my pussy. The African-American stud from New York buried his face between my thick legs and ate my cunt with gusto. I felt his tongue tease my clitoris and his fingers played around in my pussy, causing me to shudder in ecstasy. I cried out as Tyrone fingered my butt hole while licking my pussy. Dammit, the brother definitely KNOWS what I like!

My favorite part came when Tyrone put me on all fours, spread my plump ass cheeks wide open and stuck his tongue in my asshole. That's right, the brother started munching on my asshole like it was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted. I was pleasantly surprised, to tell you the truth. Is this the same dude who wrinkled his nose at me because I took a dump last night?

Apparently not, for Tyrone licked, fondled and kissed my ass until I found myself squirming in ecstasy. So much that I threw caution to the wind, I asked Tyrone to fuck me in the ass. The stud from Buffalo seemed surprised, for all of ten seconds. Tyrone grinned and took some lotion, and began applying it on my asshole. I spread my big butt cheeks as far as they could go, and Tyrone lubricated me good and proper.

Fuck me in the ass, I said, sighing happily and glowing with anticipation. Tyrone positioned himself behind me, and pressed his hard dick against my backdoor. Ready or not here I come, Tyrone said, smacking my derriere as he eased his dick into my asshole. I love anal sex. According to the tenets of Islam it's wrong or haram, but I don't give a fuck. I love getting ass fucked and if loving anal sex is wrong then this Saudi Arabian diva doesn't want to be right. 

As Tyrone gripped my hips and began fucking me in the ass, I screamed in delight. I hadn't gotten butt fucked in ages, not since my Mexican ex-boyfriend Enrique moved to Alberta to work in the oil sands. Now, thanks to my sinfully sexy African-American stud muffin Tyrone Ferguson, I finally had the chance to make up for lost time.

Tyrone groaned softly and buried his dick in my asshole, his hands gripping my wide hips and bruising them ever so nicely. My hungry asshole swallowed his dick, and I felt wonderfully filled by him. For too long I'd gone empty down below. As Tyrone continued fucking me, I backed up against him, driving his dick deeper into my asshole.

Just like that, I hissed, loving the deliciously hot pain I felt down below as Tyrone sank his dick deeper into my asshole. There's something naughty and forbidden about anal sex, and for me, it's like no other sensual experience in the world. The feel of Tyrone's thick dark dick in the forbidden depths of my asshole. It's wonderfully dirty and downright delicious.

Crying out and howling like a madwoman, I arched my back, grinding my thick ass against Tyrone's groin. More, I whispered, and lay there, face down and ass up, completely surrendering to my chocolate prince as he drilled his dick deep into my asshole. Tyrone really gave it to, slamming his dick up my ass. Owning me completely. I felt abased but wonderfully alive. Got no other words to describe that experience, I swear.

That was fun, I said, sighing happily. Tyrone squeezed his dick out of my asshole and I winced in pain. My man pulled me into his strong arms and kissed me full and deep. I kissed him back, and told him that I had to get to school. Seriously, it's ten thirty according to my watch and I've got to be at school at eleven. Have a good day at school babe, Tyrone said, patting my derriere as I pulled my panties back on.

I smiled and readjusted my clothes, making sure that my hijab was firmly in place, along with everything else, before I left the house. I blew Tyrone a kiss, and then stepped outside. Anyone looking at me would see a tall, curvaceous Arab lady impeccably dressed for work. The picture of feminine Islamic modesty and propriety, that's me. That's what everyone would see. 

Of course, if they took a closer look, they'd see the naughty gleam in my eyes as I thought of all the mean and sexy things my boo Tyrone Ferguson just did to my derriere. Seriously, I can't get enough of this man. Tyrone Ferguson has brought passion back into this boring life of mine. In ways I never even dreamed possible. More booty fun for us tonight, I told myself, smiling as I drove to work. 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 04



Waking up after a good night's sleep is one of life's simple pleasures, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Tyrone Ferguson, and I'm a young black man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I was born and raised in the environs of Buffalo, New York, and have been living in Canada's capital region for a few months now. I transferred to Carleton University from Buffalo State College to pursue my MBA. I also connected with an amazing lady, Amina Alzahrani of Yanbu, Saudi Arabia. This unforgettable gal whom I met at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York, almost a year ago.

Amina Alzahrani and I ran into each other at the Billings Bridge Mall, sparks flew between us and the rest, as they say, is history. I guess certain things are truly meant to be. This morning, Amina Alzahrani and I totally killed it. Impromptu sex is simply the best, seriously. My Arabian sweetie was dolled up to the nines, looking stylish in a crimson sweater, black dress and black hijab, and I got mad horny. 

We ended up fucking, and things got so hot that Amina let me fuck her in the ass. Dammit, the feel of Amina's big booty and tight hole around my dick is a sensation that I shall simply never forget until the day that I die. For real. Amina is gone now, off to school, and then she'll be at her job at the call center near Blair Station in the east end of Ottawa. 

I'm about to hop in the shower and head to Carleton University. I'm in the MBA program and taking four classes while paying international student rates isn't easy. Amina filed for me to become a permanent resident of Canada but it hasn't happened yet. I hope it does, though. Paying five times what local students pay just because I'm from the U.S. doesn't strike me as fair, seriously. Thank heaven my sweetie Amina is helping me.

Seriously, sometimes I wonder what I would do without her. As I stand in the washroom, I pour hot water over my bright green toothbrush and then apply toothpaste on it. I've often been told that I've got a bright smile and it's the result of a rigorous brushing routine. Today, I've got an extra reason to brush hard. Ever heard the term potty mouth? Well, I've definitely got one of those after eating Amina Alzahrani's big and round, decidedly delicious Saudi Arabian butt. 

Yeah, eating ass is fun, my dude, but a brother better brush his teeth afterwards. I brushed thoroughly, and then spat the residue down the sink. I flashed my trademark fearless smile, and pearly whites stared back at me from a handsome face that I proudly recognized as my own. Hello handsome, I told myself, and then stepped into the shower.

The warm water fell on my skin, and I proceeded to clean myself with soap and water. I cleaned out every crevice, every spot. From my arm pits to the space under my balls, from my asshole to my nose, from the spot behind my ears to the space right behind my knees. I'm a very dirty guy in the bedroom when it comes to wild, crazy sex but a very clean guy in every other aspect. I exited the washroom twenty five minutes after I stepped into it.

I went to the bedroom, and paused for a moment with the towel, a long red towel that Amina Alzahrani bought me last week, and sighed. I could still smell Amina all over the bedroom. Pussy has a fragrance and aroma that isn't easy to forget. Turned me on so damn much that I dropped my towel, whipped out my long and thick, uncircumcised chocolate stick and began stroking it. Guess who I thought of while jerking off?

I visualized my sweet Amina on her knees before yours truly, and thought of the last time she thoroughly sucked my dick. Shoot, Amina is wickedly naughty and fingered my butt hole while sucking my dick. Wasn't expecting that but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. According to Amina, the male G-spot is in my derriere, and when it's properly stimulated, things go absolutely wild for the man in question.

Amina Alzahrani can suck a mean dick, ladies and gentlemen. Seriously, last time the Saudi cutie went down on me, she left me weak in the knees. I stroked my dick furiously, thinking of her full, succulent lips sucking on my manhood. Oh shit, I moaned softly, knowing that it wouldn't take me long to cum. Moments later I was proven right, for my aching, throbbing dick shot out its load all over the bedroom floor. I smiled guiltily as I beheld the evidence of my pleasure on the floor. Not going to clean it. I think I'll just let it dry on its own accord. Febreze Air Freshener and sperm, that's what every red-blooded manly man's bedroom ought to smell like if you ask me.

I got dressed, and got ready to face the day. I selected a green silk shirt, with black silk pants, and black Timberland shoes. I made sure to tuck my shirt in good and proper, and selected a black leather belt to hold everything together. Too many bozos out there dress sloppily, especially among young men of African descent. The way I figure it, we've already got enough strikes against us. Why add to it by dressing thuggish? I dress neatly, doesn't matter where I'm going. Amina loves that about me. I'm her sexy sharp-dressed man, what can I say?

I splashed on some Cologne before leaving the house, and drove to school. Carleton University's sprawling campus is far from the east end where I live but I like driving. Still got my old bright red Pickup truck with New York licence plates on it. I'm still using my New York driver's licence. It expires on February 18, 2016. I see no reason to rush and renew it in the closing months of 2014, do you? 

People stare when they see me on the road but I don't give a fuck. Yes, I'm an African-American man living in Ontario, Canada. Canadians like to try forgetting that there's a huge, racially diverse country that borders the frozen wasteland they call home. I like to constantly remind them of that fact. I'm here for school and work, and if things work out between Amina Alzahrani and I, this brother just might stick around for good. Don't like it? Well, then. You can kiss my black New Yorker's ass!



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 05



I'm Muslim, my dear, so my butt hole is always clean, I said in a reassuring tone to my lover Tyrone Ferguson as I squatted over his face. Time for my gorgeous African-American stud to put those sweet lips to good use and eat my thick Saudi ass. Tyrone hesitated, then buried his handsome face between my butt cheeks. I giggled happily as I felt his tongue snaking its way up my asshole. Good man, I thought, licking my lips in satisfaction.

My name is Amina Alzahrani and I'm a sinfully sexy Saudi Arabian national ( and newly minted permanent resident of Canada ) living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, while studying bio-medical engineering at the University of Ottawa. My boyfriend Tyrone and I come from different worlds, but that's just part of the fun for us. I was born and raised in Yanbu, Saudi Arabia, and he hails from Buffalo, New York. Only in North America could a couple like us ever stand a chance of ending up together.

I think I'm in love with Tyrone. The tall, dark and handsome stud took my breath away from the first time we met at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York. My chocolate-hued angel. I can't get enough of him. That's why I'm making him lick my asshole right now while fingering my wet, hairy cunt. I don't know why but I love making men eat my ass. Tyrone is so damn good at it. I swear, sometimes I think he likes my asshole more than he likes my pussy.

That's more than okay by me because I love anything and everything to do with ass play. And unlike a lot of women out there, I'm not ashamed to say it. The other day, I bent Tyrone over and fucked him with this brand new, shiny emerald strap-on dildo that I bought at the adult video store located near the Rideau Mall in downtown Ottawa. I put my new toy to good use, and Tyrone screamed beautifully as I fucked him with it.

I like fucking guys up the ass with my strap-on dildo. The practice is called pegging nowadays, I believe. Tyrone likes it too, even though it took him a while to admit it to himself and even longer before the macho brother from New York could admit it to me, his demure Saudi Arabian girlfriend. Men, eh? They are what they are, I guess.

Still, never let it be said that I, Amina Alzahrani of Yanbu, Saudi Arabia, don't play fair. I believe in gender equality in and out of the bedroom, my friends and esteemed readers. Just like I enjoy fucking Tyrone's ass with my trusty strap-on dildo, I firmly believe in letting my chocolate-hued African-American Adonis stick his big dick up my buns. Turnabout is fair play, wouldn't you say?

After Tyrone finished polishing my asshole with his tongue, I told him I was ready to be fucked. Tyrone smiled happily and wanted to kiss me. I turned away, for I really didn't want to taste my ass on his sweet lips. Sorry, I'm a bitch like that. Tyrone seemed peeved but said nothing. I could see him pouting a bit, though.

To make Tyrone Ferguson feel better, I got on all fours, and spread my thick, sexy ass cheeks wide open. Tyrone rants and raves about my heart-shaped Saudi derriere, and I know he can't get enough of it. Hot damn, Tyrone whispered, as he caressed my big butt with a dreamy look on his face. Don't stare at it fuck it, I snapped impatiently.

Yes, I'm a bossy bitch, even when I'm about to get fucked in the ass by the handsome, well-endowed black stud I cherish so much. Tyrone Ferguson got the hint and put his hands on my hips, and pressed his hard dick against my asshole. Shut up and give me that ass Amina, he said, smacking my butt as he pushed his well-lubricated dick up my buns.

Wallahi, I cried out as Tyrone Ferguson stuffed his dick into my asshole. Seriously, usually Tyrone slowly works his dick up my ass but this time, he just shoved it inside. My asshole hurt as Tyrone crammed his dick inside and smacked my ass. Yanking off my hijab, Tyrone grabbed my long, curly black hair and pulled it while fucking me. Fuck yeah, it was hot, and different, and I loved it.

Slowly but surely my butt adjusted to Tyrone's new, more aggressive style of ass fucking. I moaned softly as he fucked me, loving the deliciously hot pain I felt deep inside my ass, and even within my pussy, as Tyrone filled my hole with his gigantic dick. Give me that ass Amina, Tyrone roared, and fucked me roughly until I cried out for mercy. That's right, Tyrone and his dick-of-death made this foxy Saudi Arabian mama tap out. The brother has it going on and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

I needed that, I said to Tyrone Ferguson, as we lay side by side on the bed. Tyrone nodded and smiled. We were still basking in the afterglow of a good ass fucking. I just came home after working the overnight shift at this call center located near Blair Station. The job pays good, even if the people there are super fake. I'm an Arab woman working in a mostly white workplace, even if there are a few Somalis, Haitians, Chinese and Hindus around, you can feel the tension between different groups in the air. 

Canada is changing, socially and demographically speaking, and not everyone likes it, that's all I can say. The fact that I have a degree from the University of Ottawa and fluently speak Arabic, French and English also seems to irk some of my co-workers. White Canadians don't like people of color who are highly educated and talented. They see us as a threat. Why else do you think so many visible minorities with degrees acquired at accredited Canadian colleges and well-known Canadian universities can't find jobs? 

Enough about the hassles of life and work, seriously. Tyrone Ferguson and I are home, we're safe, and we're alright. We're both supremely busy. I'm having a tough time pursuing my master's degree in bio-medical engineering at the University of Ottawa. Tyrone is starting to buckle under the pressure at Carleton University's Sprott School of Business, where he's pursuing his MBA. Paying international student rates isn't easy for Ty, that's why I've filed for him to become a permanent resident of Canada. We both could use a break. Seriously. Wish us luck, eh? 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 06



Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, to find my sweetie, Amina Alzahrani, either crying or tossing and turning. That's when I know for sure that she's dreaming of her old life in Yanbu, Saudi Arabia. As liberated as my sweetie says she is, I can see in her eyes that Amina is still haunted by the country and people she left behind. Those nightmares plague Amina, and I feel absolutely powerless to stop them. It's not a good feeling at all, folks.

My name is Tyrone Ferguson, and I'm a young African-American man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I moved there a few months ago from my hometown of Buffalo, New York. I'm pursuing my MBA at the Sprott School of Business of Carleton University, which I transferred to after graduating from Buffalo State College. I'm back in school, and living with a wonderful lady, my sweet Amina.

The problem is that we're both damaged souls, in our own way. Amina Alzahrani told me about her control freak parents, Ahmed and Khadija Hassan, and her former husband, Samir Alzahrani, and the awful way they all treated her back in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. We didn't get into too many details, but I got the picture.

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is a very different world from Canada and the United States of America, that's for damn sure. The things I read about Saudi Arabia's draconian laws restricting women's lives stunned me. Women can't drive over there, nor can they leave the house without a male companion. Supposedly for their own protection, of course. And last but not least? They cannot show their faces in public and must wear a burka everywhere they go. That is some bullshit if you ask me.

Amina Alzahrani doesn't like it when I criticize her ancestral homeland, so I don't bother. I just wish things would go back to normal between us. When I go to bed with my sweetie in my arms, I want to spend a lovely night with her. Being woken up in the middle of the night with Amina weeping and shouting panic-stricken words in Arabic doesn't make for a very restful or lovely night. Not at all.

Look, I'm not trying to be insensitive here but I do wish Amina would talk to me, or to someone, perhaps a professional, about the issues plaguing her. I can relate to some of what she must be going through. I'm an orphan and grew up in the foster care system of the State of New York. I bounced around from one foster home to another. You name it, I endured it. I got beat up, battered and worse. A lot of the people who take in foster brats like myself do so just for the paycheck from the government. They don't give a damn about us. I met a lot of people like that.

In spite of the hardships that life threw my way, I learned to be strong and overcome. That's why I won an academic scholarship to Buffalo State College, even though I never received any support from my foster parents. I graduated from B.S.C. with honors and came all the way to Ontario, Canada, for my MBA and also because I wanted to get out of America for a while. 

Every five minutes a racist white cop shoots an unarmed black man somewhere in the U.S. and President Barack Obama and Attorney General Eric Holder refuse to use the Department of Justice to prosecute these racist bozos. As a black man, the U.S. seemed a very unsafe and treacherous place to me. Canada is supremely boring and full of annoying, passive-aggressive people but I don't hear about minorities getting shot left and right. I guess I'm in a somewhat better place.

Sometimes, a change of scenery does a body good. I left Buffalo, New York, and even though Ottawa, Ontario, is the most boring place I've ever been to, I am doing alright in this place. Although intensive, my classes at Carleton University are going great. I'm confident I'll get my MBA in less than two years. Once that happens, I'm sure a world of opportunities will open up for me. That's the good thing about a business degree, you can work in a variety of fields. At least that's what I'm hoping.

Rising from the bed, I took a longing look at Amina Alzahrani, my sweetheart, who lay curled up with the sheets halfway covering her body. I smiled and gently touched her hair and then went to the washroom. I needed to pee quite badly. Whipping my dick out of my boxers, I took a long wiz. Felt a burning sensation deep inside. That's what happens when a man holds his pee too long, seriously.

I came back to bed, to find Amina lying in a fetal position, clutching her belly and whimpering, her eyes tightly closed. Sweetie, I said, gently touching her shoulder. Amina ignored me, as she always does when she's in the throes of a violent nightmare. Arabic words uttered in a frantic tone came out of her mouth, and I sighed deeply as I pulled the covers over her and tried in vain to get back to sleep.

This evening started out so great, I silently lamented. Amina Alzahrani came home from the University of Ottawa's bio-medical engineering department and the call center where she works, and like the horny freak that she is, my Saudi Arabian goddess gave me a special treat. I love eating juicy female ass and if loving it is wrong then this brother definitely doesn't want to be right.

After letting me eat her gorgeous ass and sucking her sweaty asshole and tasting her delicious cunt juices, Amina asked me to fuck her in the ass. This I did happily, lubricating my dick before sliding into my Arabian diva's tight backdoor. Then I gripped Amina's wide hips, smacked her big Saudi booty and then thrust my dick into her asshole. This time I fucked her roughly, and much to my surprise, Amina took to receiving rough anal sex like a bird takes to flying. I love that in a woman!

Yeah, we had a lot of fun earlier tonight, Amina Alzahrani and I. You can understand why a brother might feel disappointed and a bit annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the damn night by his lady's screams. Still, what I am I do? We've all got our demons. Sometimes I still have nightmares about the foster care system, the abusive people who raised me and told me I'd never amount to anything. Bunch of bozos.

Guess I sure showed them, eh? I left Buffalo, New York, and now I've got a brand new life in Ottawa, Ontario. I've got a new job, a new apartment and a new city to call home. Education-wise, I'm cool. I've got my bachelor's degree from an American college and I'm well on my way to getting my MBA from a Canadian university. And I've got a gorgeous, kinky and absolutely wonderful lady in my life. My sweet Amina. A rare flower from the Saudi Arabian desert. 

Thank God for you, I whispered, gently kissing my beloved Amina Alzahrani on the forehead. Was it my imagination or was her forehead hot? I sure hope my sweetie isn't sick. Amina's eyes snapped open, and for a moment she looked disoriented. Her dark eyes bore into mine, nothing was said by either of us for a while. Finally, Amina Alzahrani smiled. Good night, she whispered. Finally, we both drifted into sleep. At last. 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 07



Holding hands while walking through the Saint Laurent Mall in the east end of the City of Ottawa, Ontario, my boo Tyrone Ferguson and I got a lot of stares. Oh, well. Let the haters stare. Yes, we're an interracial couple, an Arab woman with a black man. Guess what? We're of different hues and we're happy together and the world isn't ending. My name is Amina Alzahrani and I'm a young woman of Saudi Arabian descent living in Canada's Capital. Got one helluva story to share with you, folks.

Tyrone Ferguson and I were casually strolling through the crowded Saint Laurent Mall, just doing some shopping, when I noticed how damn much we got stared at. Understand that the east end, especially the Vanier area, is one of the most racially diverse spots in all of metropolitan Ottawa. Lots of Somalis, Arabs, Haitians, Chinese and other ethnic minorities call this place home. You'd think that in a place like that, we'd blend in. And you'd be totally wrong.

Walking out of Sears, I saw a Somali chick in a hijab and long skirt holding hands with a Lebanese-looking dude. The two seemed very much into each other. And then they saw Tyrone and I...and froze. I looked them up and down and smiled, and then, to really shine them on, I kissed Tyrone on the lips for no apparent reason. Not that I needed a reason to kiss my boo's full, succulent lips, mind you.

You should have seen the look on the Somali woman's face when she saw me locking lips with Tyrone, one of the finest brothers on the face of the earth. I swear, people are okay with interracial relationships as long as there's no black guy involved. Bunch of bigots if you ask me. In Saudi Arabia, I saw lots of women of all hues with Saudi Arabian men. 

Seriously, Saudi guys fondness for Ethiopian women, Indian women and Filipino women is almost legendary. And yet you'd never see a Saudi guy allow his daughter to marry a black man, even if he's a good Muslim from a good family. That's one of the many double standards in Saudi society, and the rest of the Arab world, to tell you the truth. It's considered okay for Arab men to date/marry women of any color or culture but it's virtually forbidden for Arab women to date/marry men who are from outside the Arab world. 

As a Saudi Arabian woman, I'm not permitted to marry non-Saudi men, although exceptions can be made for men from the Gulf States, such as Kuwaitis, Omanis and Qataris. I think that's bullshit, and it's part of the reason why I left the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. I'm a smart young woman with a mind of my own. I wanted to be more than just the wife of some dude selected for me by my family. I had dreams and goals that went far beyond what's considered acceptable for a Saudi woman in the society in which I was born and raised.

Lots of Saudi women are studying at fine colleges and universities in the United States of America, Canada, England, Australia and other wealthy western countries. When they return to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia with their fancy western education, they're still the powerless daughters and wives of control freaks. All because of tradition and the iron-clad rules of the religion. That's the fate of Saudi Arabian women, folks.

Can you imagine a smart, fearless woman with a Ph.D. taking orders from a man who can barely write his own name simply because, as a man, he is considered better than her? That's the fate of millions of highly educated, beautiful and ambitious Saudi Arabian women. They're all doomed to lives of quiet desperation and lack of fulfillment because of it. I swore to myself that it would not be my fate.

That's why I left Yanbu, the town in which I was born, and the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia itself. I left my former husband Samir Alzahrani and my outraged parents Ahmed and Khadija Hassan. All for the mere chance at a different life. I came to provincial Ontario, Canada, as an international student, enrolling at the University of Ottawa to study bio-medical engineering. As soon as I could, I approached the Canadian government, explained my situation and asked for political asylum.

Fortunately, the Canadian government listened to my refugee claim, and granted it to me. I got a work permit, a social insurance card and went and got myself a job at the local Loblaw's. I continued my studies, and applied for permanent resident status as soon as I could. Once I got it, I kissed the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia goodbye. For good. As far as I'm concerned, if I never see Saudi Arabia's burning sands again, it'll be too soon. There's nothing for me back there except helplessness and virtual slavery, the fate of all women inside the Kingdom. Thanks but no thanks.

Today, I'm happily walking through the Saint Laurent Mall while holding hands with my beloved. I'm proud to say that I'm with Tyrone Ferguson, the African-American stud muffin I met in the City of Buffalo, New York, a little over a year ago. A most fateful encounter, to be sure. One that changed both of our lives. For the better, I'd like to say. Tyrone looked at me, smiled and brought my hand to his lips. I giggled happily, positively glowing with happiness at such a sweet gesture. What can I say? My man knows how to make me purr!

That's why I took Tyrone by the hand, and we went to the second-floor washroom, the one near the cell phone booths and bookstore, and we found an unlocked gate leading to a part of the Saint Laurent Mall that was under renovation. Giggling, Tyrone and I snuck inside, and went to a secluded spot, in an area that was off-limits to anyone who wasn't mall personnel. 

Let's do this, Tyrone Ferguson whispered, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. We embraced passionately, and then got busy. Hiking up my skirt, Tyrone slid his eager fingers into my panties and began fingering my already wet cunt. Fuck yeah, I hissed, already horny. Tyrone sat me down on a dusty table, amid construction equipment, and buried his face between my legs.

Just like that, I whispered as Tyrone began feasting on my pussy. I can't get enough of this man, I swear. Like a hungry man, Tyrone licked, probed, teased and devoured my pussy. Soon I was crying out in sheer pleasure. Tyrone's got a wicked tongue, in more ways than one, and knows how to make my toes curl. I was tingling down below, little shockwaves of pleasure cascading throughout my cunt, and it was all because of Tyrone.

Fuck me sweetie, I whispered, and Tyrone heeded my plea. The African-American stud lifted me up and I happily wrapped my legs around his torso, drawing him into me. Tyrone eased his manhood out of his pants, and pressed his hard dick against me. I groaned sharply as Tyrone thrust into my pussy. The feel of his hard dick stabbing my cunt thrilled me like you would not believe. Hard and fast Tyrone fucked me, slamming his dick deep inside of me. We fucked like sex was going out of style, so much that we didn't hear approaching footsteps...

The skinny Asian dude walking out of the backroom must have been drawn by the noise Tyrone and I made, for he approached the room curiously. Upon seeing us, his eyes went wide, and he gasped. I looked up at him, smiled, and waved at him. Tyrone looked up, saw the dude and made a half-roar in frustration and anger. The Asian dude ran out of there like Satan himself was after him. I looked at Tyrone, and smiled. 

Let's get out of here, Tyrone said, and I winced in disappointment as he pulled out of me. Tyrone and I were barely done readjusting our clothes when we heard the mall security people approaching. Tyrone kind of panicked but I told him to act cool. I linked my arm with his, and we casually walked out of the corridor and into the mall proper, where we pretended to look at cell phones at the booth while security walked right past us, with the proverbial Asian tattle tale. Grinning, I shook my head and Tyrone and I walked out of the mall and headed to the parking lot upstairs. Nicely done back there, Tyrone said, sighing in relief. I casually shrugged. I'm a Saudi woman, we're slick like that! 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 08



That was a narrow escape, I thought to myself as my sweetie, Amina Alzahrani and I just got home. We just got back from the Saint Laurent Mall, where we nearly got caught fucking in a backroom by the security personnel. My name is Tyrone Ferguson and I'm a young African-American gentleman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'm in the MBA program at Carleton University, which I transferred to from Buffalo State College in my home state of New York.

Amina took off her coat, brushed a few errant snowflakes out of her long black hair and regaled me with her fearless, enchanting smile. My favorite bio-medical engineering student is something else. How the very sight of Amina must distract her peers at the University of Ottawa. I feasted my eyes on my Saudi Arabian goddess lovely form. Tall, bronze-skinned, deliciously voluptuous and big-bottomed, this raven-haired and brown-eyed cutie is a vision of beauty. Clad in a long-sleeved T-shirt and long skirt, with shiny black leather boots, the gal looked good enough to eat. And I felt a deep, lustful hunger as I looked her up and down.

That was fun, Amina said, and proceeded to pull off her boots, revealing bright pink socks. Summer-style socks that were definitely inappropriate for the Ontario winter, which I'm finding out is a lot more rigorous than what I used to endure in New York. Amina definitely comes from a tropical place. The Canadian winter doesn't agree with her, even though Amina doesn't complain. Luckily she's got me to keep her warm.

Come here sexy, I said, gently pulling Amina into my arms. I took her lovely face in my hands and kissed her. I can't get enough of the lovely Miss Alzahrani, my Saudi Arabian dream. Amina grinned, a look of mischief in those lovely eyes of hers. Seriously, this chick is so wicked and so damn creative. Hell, if it weren't for Amina's quick thinking back at the Saint Laurent Mall, I shudder to think of what might have happened to us.

I doubt mall security looks kindly on couples caught having sex on the premises. I'm new to Canada but some things never change. I used to work security at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York. Hell, it's where I met the lovely Amina Alzahrani. As a security guard, I would have been pissed to find people getting freaky at the mall during my shift and probably banned them and/or reported them to the police. I think the local security would have done the same to Amina Alzahrani and I, if they caught us.

What a woman, I thought to myself. Amina Alzahrani hugged me tightly, and I felt her small, quick hands grabbing my posterior. I saw lust and playfulness in those lovely eyes of hers. You got something I want, Amina said, her voice totally serious all of a sudden. I can never predict her actions, to tell you the truth, but for us, that's part of the fun.

Taking Amina by the hand, I led her to the living room, and sat her down on a high-backed chair. Hello my queen, I said with a smile, and Amina grinned wickedly, licked her lips and nodded. Miss Saudi here likes the royal treatment, I see. I took her hand and kissed it, and then, locking eyes with her, I slipped my hand under Amina's skirt. Amina cocked an eyebrow, and I smiled lustfully. I want some of that, I said, and Amina sighed happily, knowing what delights were to come.

Look, I honestly don't mean to brag or anything but when it comes to licking pussy, I am one of the best. That's why I happily pulled down Amina Alzahrani's crimson panties, and got down to business. Or tried to. Amina stopped me, and smiled naughtily. What the devil does she want now? I asked myself, smiling at her and willing myself to be patient. I was dying to lick the freaky Saudi Arabian chick's sweet pussy and couldn't comprehend why she wanted me to wait. Women, I frigging swear!

I forgot something, Amina Alzahrani said, and just like that, the woman I adored got up and left, leaving me on my knees, wondering what the fuck was going on. Moments later, Amina came back to the living room, sporting a shiny red hijab...and nothing else! My eyes lit up when I saw her like this. I swear, I've never seen anything so beautiful, so arousing and so naughty. 

Picture this, if you will, ladies and gentlemen. A gorgeous Saudi Arabian woman, stark naked, her big breasts glaring at me, her wide hips swaying, her thick legs spread invitingly, and lust all over those dark eyes of hers. Naked, with the hijab on her head. Many a man's fantasy. My unexpected but oh so welcome reality. Hot damn!

Wow, I said, and Amina Alzahrani stood there, hands on her hips. I swear, I felt almost intimidated. Then lust overrode any fear or hesitation I might have felt. The sight of her womanly loveliness got my dick hard as a piston, and I really, really wanted to fuck her. I got up and reached for Amina with open arms. Amina darted out of my reach, playfully batting my hands away. I saw a familiar wicked gleam in those eyes of hers. Worship me, Amina said, in that bossy tone I found so sexy.

Yes ma'am, I said, and as Amina Alzahrani resumed her seat, I spread her thighs and inhaled the aroma of her cunt, then dove in. Time for a brother to obey his thirst. I'm always thirsty for a taste of Arab pussy, I blame Amina for getting me addicted to hers. Looking up into her lovely face, I began licking Amina's pussy slowly, taking my sweet time. I'm doing this for myself as well as for her. Pleasure in giving and receiving, that's our way.

Fuck yeah, Amina Alzahrani shrieked, moaning in pleasure as I worked my magic on her. I looked at her as she cried my name, her lovely body thrashing wildly in the throes of pleasure. There's something almost ethereally beautiful about an orgasmic woman, folks. I continued pleasuring Amina until finally, I felt it. The first droplets of her hot girly cum. I savored every drop, and sucked on Amina's cunt until finally, after screaming, squealing and moaning, my Saudi goddess lay still. Erotically stunned would be an accurate description of the state I put her in, I think.

Amina Alzahrani looked at me, her lovely eyes moist. I know that look all too well. Fuck me, Amina whispered. Grinning, I picked up my sweetie and carried her over to a nearby table. I laid Amina there, and kissed her full and deep. Gently, I kissed Amina's full lips, then her soft throat, and her breasts. At the same time, I began fingering her wet, hairy cunt. Hmmm, Amina whispered, and I continued working her over. One must prepare the terrain before diving in, that's the proper way of doing things.

I'm ready for you, Amina said, and I teased her a bit, and then just when I could tell that she couldn't take it anymore, I stopped. Taking both of Amina's hands in mine, I placed them on my erect manhood. Amina sighed happily and stroked my dick. Let me suck it, Amina whispered, and I shook my head. I'd had enough of the damn preliminaries and was ready for the main event at this point. Even with Amina, my sweetheart, my patience has its limits.

I rubbed my hard dick against Amina Alzahrani's cunt, and looked into her eyes. Come inside, Amina said, and I smiled as I entered her with a swift thrust. The feel of warmth and tightness inside Amina's pussy didn't exactly surprise me, for we'd made love dozens of times before, but I welcomed it. Amina wrapped her arms around me, and urged me to fuck her harder. Like I needed any encouragement!

All the anticipation I felt had been killing me, seriously. First, Amina Alzahrani and I tried to get our freak on in a backroom of the Saint Laurent Mall and got interrupted, and now, at last, I got to have her. Happily I thrust into her, glad that we were making love without interruption. Amina looked into my eyes, and for once, I didn't see coyness in her eyes, only an odd vulnerability. I love you, Amina whispered, in a voice so low I almost thought I imagined it.

Love you too babe, I whispered into Amina Alzahrani's ear. We made love for the better part of two hours, and finally, exhausted in a most pleasurable way, Amina Alzahrani and I retired to the bedroom. For the longest time, Amina and I lay in each other's arms, talking and laughing. It's little moments like these that make life worth living. Amina and I, simply together, enjoying each other's company at home, away from the prying eyes of a racist, sexist, Islamophobic and deeply judgemental world. We're happy together. 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 09



Quickies can be fun, I thought to myself, but they can certainly get messy. What is it with us and malls, seriously? My name is Amina Alzahrani and I'm a young Saudi Arabian woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, with my African-American boyfriend Tyrone Ferguson. We met at the Galleria Mall in the City of Buffalo, New York, a year ago and were reunited in Ottawa. Been together ever since.

Standing in front of the mirror in the ladies room at Bay Shore Mall, I tried, in vain, to wash off the cum that fell on my hijab while I was sucking my boyfriend Tyrone's big dick in a secluded spot inside this busy mall that's partially under construction. One of the girls in the ladies room, a plump white chick, smiled at me as I fiddled with my cum-stained hijab. Use a paper towel, the gal said knowingly, then walked out of there with a grin.

Smiling to myself, I followed the gal's advice, and lo and behold, the cum stain vanished, and I held my hijab under the dryer for about five minutes, and it was good as new. Next time I might not be so lucky, I thought. I fixed myself up, and admired my reflection in the mirror. I'm tall, curvy and sexy, clad in a long-sleeved red T-shirt featuring the Ottawa Senators logo, black jeans and black leather boots. After fixing my black hijab into place with a pin, I washed my hands and left the washroom.

I returned to the mall, and found my boyfriend Tyrone Ferguson sitting on a bench, playing on his cell phone. My tall, gorgeous stud looked absolutely fantastic in a red silk shirt and black silk pants I bought for him at Talbot's the other day. Hey mamas, Tyrone said, smiling and walking up to me with open arms. Gently he pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the lips. What is it about this brother that simply makes me melt?

Tyrone pulled me close, and I inhaled his manly scent, mixed with cheap cologne, a specialty of his, even as he nuzzled me. I giggled as I felt Tyrone's hands on my ample derriere. Tyrone is most definitely an ass man. It's a good thing us Saudi girls are known to have big, juicy butts. I smiled at Tyrone, and squeezed him firmly. You missed me, eh? I asked, and saw the answer in his soulful dark eyes before the words left his lips.

I always miss me when you're away from me, Tyrone Ferguson said, and I knew he meant those words with every fiber of his being. Smiling, we walked through the Bay Shore Mall hand in hand. As usual, people stared at us. The people who stare the most when they see Tyrone and I, a black man and an Arab woman, are usually Muslims. 

What do I mean by that? Please allow me to explain. The other day, while shopping here solo, I ran into a friend named Nadine, a Lebanese Christian woman who lives in the Core Village Complex not far from the Bay Shore Mall. We got to talking, for we have been friends for ages. I'm a bio-medical engineering student at the University of Ottawa and Nadine is studying civil engineering. As Arab immigrant women in a male-dominated and mostly white fields of study, we need to stick together.

Nadine and I ran into each other at Sears, and then grabbed lunch at the Bay Shore Mall food court. We got to talking about school, and our personal lives. Nadine told me about her boyfriend Jason Seguin, a French Canadian guy she met at the pizzeria where she works on weekends. Even showed me a picture of the two of them coming out of the Silver City movie theater together. I smiled, and shook my head.

Small world, I thought, since Tyrone Ferguson and I really like going to the Silver City movie theater in the east end of Ottawa. I showed Nadine a picture of Tyrone and I at the movies together, after I went to visit him at Carleton University, and my good friend and Arab sister suddenly fell silent. I gently touched Nadine's hand, and asked my friend if she was okay. Your boyfriend is black, Nadine finally said, a look of shock on her face.

Yes the man I love is black, I replied firmly, looking into Nadine's eyes. For the first time since I met her, over a year ago, I saw a very odd expression on her face. Nadine and I are Arab immigrant women who share many similarities. We're both tall, dark-haired and bronze-skinned, proud daughters of the Arabian peninsula. So what if I was raised a Sunni Muslim in the environs of Yanbu, Saudi Arabia, and Nadine was raised a Maronite Catholic in the environs of Nabatieh, Lebanon? We're close friends and never let cultural and religious differences get in the way of our friendship. Until now.

I am just surprised that's all, Nadine said, quickly replacing her shock with a fake smile. That fake smile must be something my Arab sister picked up from our Canadian friends, I guess. I could see right through it, though. Nadine had a problem with the fact that Tyrone Ferguson, my boyfriend, is black. Is there a problem? I asked Nadine firmly, and again she flashed me that fake smile and vehemently shook her head.

We continued eating in silence, then Nadine abruptly changed the subject. We talked about school, and upcoming finals, and the hazards of Arab immigrant life in Ottawa. White Canadians look at us Arabs, and other Muslims, weirdly since the Parliament Hill incident. I've heard of traditionally attired young Arab girls getting hassled by white guys calling them terrorist on the bus. I'm a part-time Hijabi. Sometimes I wear it and sometimes I don't, so maybe that's why I haven't really noticed a spike in anti-Islamic sentiment in Ottawa.

Nadine here is a Christian gal born and raised in the Maronite community of the Republic of Lebanon, but to the hardline racists who hate anything Islamic, all Arabs are one and the same. They'll look suspiciously at a Saudi Arabian Muslim gal like me, or a Lebanese Christian woman like Nadine. Our dark hair, dark eyes and bronze skin mark us as different from the rest of the mainstream Canadian population. A nice way of saying that we look different from white folks, that's all.

Nadine and I finished our meal, and then walked around a bit, then said goodbye, for we both had stuff to do. As I sat on the 95 bus heading back toward downtown Ottawa from Bay Shore Mall, I thought about Nadine's reaction to a picture of Tyrone Ferguson and I. That bitch is racist and I am so totally yanking her from my Facebook, I thought angrily.

As much as I hate to admit it, Arab racism is alive and well in today's world. I saw it written all over Nadine's face while she looked at the picture of Tyrone and I together at the movies, like any other couple. In the Arab world, blacks are often treated poorly, and while many Arab men lust after African women and sometimes produce offspring with them, Arab guys are filled with rage at the very thought of an Arab woman with a black guy. Whether Muslim or Christian, lots of Arabs hate black people, and that's very unfortunate. 

Tyrone cleared his throat loudly, and his voice snapped me out of my reverie. Gently stroking my chin, Tyrone asked me if I was okay. I smiled and nodded, then without another word, I put my arms around Tyrone's neck and kissed him. Let's go home, I whispered. Tyrone seemed surprised by my request, but nodded and just like that, we left the mall together.

An hour later, Tyrone and I got to our apartment. Sensing that I was stressed, my boo laid me on the couch, and gave me a massage. Relax my sweet, Tyrone whispered, and I smiled contentedly as his strong yet gentle hands eased all tension away from my body. I swear, no one has ever made me feel as safe as Tyrone does.

Growing up in Yanbu, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, I was required to have a male escort whenever I left the house, either my father or my uncle or other male relatives. I felt oppressed and clustered with them. I feel safe and loved by Tyrone, not oppressed or controlled. I love you Ty, I said, turning briefly to look at my boo, who smiled happily.

I love you too, Tyrone Ferguson said, taking my hand in his and gently bringing it to his full, sweet lips. I sat up, and embraced the man I love. We shared a passionate kiss and then, without another word, we began making love. Right there on the living room couch. Impromptu sex is the best, I thought, as I rolled on top of Tyrone, who caressed my tits while kissing me.

Straddling my man, I looked into his eyes and asked him if he was ready for me. Tyrone smiled as I got on top of him, and lowered myself on his hard dick, once he eased out of his pants. Tyrone's hands went to my hips, and my hands went to his shoulders. My tits pressed against his face, Tyrone lost himself into me as he thrust deep, just the way I liked it. 

Make love to me sweetie, I cried out as Tyrone's thick dick filled my cunt. I felt a burning fire down below, one that only he could contain. Smacking my big Saudi butt, Tyrone rammed his dick into my pussy. I gave myself to him completely, my fingernails digging into his shoulders, and even the tender flesh of his back. 

Groaning, Tyrone slammed into me, fucking me with all the passion he could muster. Wallahi fuck me harder, I snapped, grabbing Tyrone's face forcefully and looking into his eyes. Tyrone nodded, and, grunting with effort ( I'm a tall and curvy gal, not a little waif ) he bodily lifted me up and put me on the carpeted floor. Raising my thick legs in the air, Tyrone slammed his dick right back into my cunt.

Passionately Tyrone and I went at it, doing it in several different positions. My favorite was when Tyrone put me on all fours, spanked my big butt and fucked me from behind. This he did admirably, until I actually cried out for mercy. Tyrone's dick always leaves my cunt pleasurably sore, and I can't get enough of his brand of lovemaking.

Glad you're in my life, I said to Tyrone, who smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. I could tell that he had a question on his mind, but I honestly didn't feel like talking. I just wanted to be with the man I love, and be held by him. To the world outside, Tyrone Ferguson and I are from different worlds. I, Amina Alzahrani of Yanbu, am a Saudi Arabian woman and Tyrone Ferguson, the guy I love is an African-American man. Can't we just be a man and a woman in love? If that day comes, then I'll start to believe in a better world! 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 10



Can a guy develop prostate issues as a result of too much strap-on sex? I'm afraid to ask my doctor this question. My name is Tyrone Ferguson, and I'm a young African-American man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. The reason why I've got this burning question on my mind is because my gorgeous, sinfully sexy Saudi Arabian girlfriend Amina Alzahrani has been pegging me a lot lately, man. How much strap-on fucking is too much?

Seriously, last night, I came home after a long day at work, physically exhausted. I work as a security guard all over the City of Ottawa, and I also attend Carleton University. The life of an international student in Canada isn't easy, man. I'm studying for my MBA in the Sprott School of Business. As you can imagine, I've got one hell of a busy schedule. Carleton University is even more rigorous than my old school, Buffalo State College in New York, and that's really saying something. 

Like I said, I came home supremely tired and my lady Amina Alzahrani was waiting for me. Picture this, if you will. A tall, gorgeous middle-eastern woman with light bronze skin, long curly black hair and scintillating dark eyes, waiting for me stark naked...stroking the shiny black strap-on dildo she's got between her legs. I missed your ass, Amina said, grinning mischievously while stroking her strap-on dildo seductively or menacingly, I can't make up my damn mind.

Anyhow, what followed was a steamy session in the shower, with Amina bending me over and stuffing my ass with her strap-on dildo after cleansing my hole with soap and water, then lubricating me good and proper. Alright, I admit that I had fun, but seriously, I think too much strap-on sex can be a bad thing for men's health down below. I sure hope I don't develop any prostate issues over this stuff, seriously.

Amina Alzahrani, the woman I consider to be the love of my life is seriously getting in touch with her bossy side. That's both a blessing and a curse if you ask me. Whoever thinks that Saudi Arabian women are submissive, or soft and sweet, clearly never met Amina. I don't know what the other women living in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia are like, but Amina Alzahrani is one seriously bossy broad. 

Last night, after pegging the hell out of me, guess what Amina did? We were lying in bed, cuddling after some kinky fun, when Amina said the words that scared me shitless. My sweetie kissed me, then asked me if I'd ever been fisted. That's right, F-I-S-T-E-D. I pretended to be asleep and Amina dropped the subject...for the moment. Look, um, I'm a very kinky guy who loves sex, and I love my woman, but there is no way in hell I'm letting Amina get her fist up my ass. I've only got one ass, folks. This brother says no to fisting. Hell no to the power of ten!

This morning, Amina Alzahrani and I had some regular sex, and I insisted on us doing anal because I wanted to make the bitch pay for the pegging she gave me last night. Gleefully I bent Amina over, gave her thick Arabian ass a sound spanking, and then worked my dick into her well-lubricated asshole. Gripping Amina's hips, I thrust into her. I pulled Amina's hair and spanked her ass while slamming my dick into her asshole.

Look, I love Amina Alzahrani with every fiber of my being, but this morning, I delighted in making her suffer. I fucked her roughly, burying my dick into the depths of her asshole. Moaning deeply, Amina slid her fingers into her cunt, pleasuring herself while I fucked her in the ass. What can I say? I wanted to make her suffer. Don't judge me. I honestly don't know what make over me, man.

I pumped my dick into Amina's butt hole until my gorgeous, sinfully sexy Saudi Arabian goddess actually begged for mercy. Only then did I pull out of her, and I took my sweet time about it. When I finally pulled out of Amina's asshole, her gaping hole stared at me obscenely. And then my lady squeezed out a loud, wet fart. That was fun, Amina said, rolling on her back and winking at me. I smiled and nodded, then pulled her to her feet. Hey, if she doesn't mind, why on earth should I?

Amina and I showered together, and then we spent the day together. I took her to Tim Horton's at the Saint Laurent Mall for breakfast, then we went to the movies, since it was cheap Tuesday at the Silver City movie theater, one of our favorite hangouts. We watched Horrible Bosses 2. I thought about seeing Exodus, the new Christian Bale movie, but Amina was absolutely against it. 

Egyptians are my fellow Arabs and they're not white, Amina said angrily. I knew better than to argue with her, so we went to see Horrible Bosses 2. The movie was fine, and seeing Jennifer Aniston play a freaky slut instead of the clean-cut, nice-gal types that she usually portrays on screen was absolutely refreshing. Jamie Foxx was pretty good too, as was Jason Bateman. The other guys in the movie? Kinda sucked but whatever. 

Walking out of the Silver City movie theater, I suddenly pulled Amina Alzahrani to me and hugged her. Looking into the eyes of this young woman I loved so much, I told her that I cherished her, in spite of all of our differences. Amina smiled at me and playfully smacked my butt, and then we headed to the nearby Blair Mall. While crossing through the parking lot, a couple came our way. A rather tall Arab-looking chick with a chubby white dude. Hello Nadine, Amina said to the tall Arab-looking chick, who actually flinched. What the fuck is up with her?

The Arab chick with the chubby white dude, Nadine, as Amina called her, looked from Amina to me, and back again. Hello, Nadine finally replied, then lowered her head, in the manner of uncomfortable white folks. Amina and I crossed the street and headed for the mall. What was that about? I asked her. Amina smiled and told me that she had some deleting to do on her Facebook friends list. I probed Amina for more, but my favorite bossy Saudi Arabian diva would say nothing more on the subject. Amina just smiled wickedly and told me not to worry. Women, I swear!



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 11



My sweet Amina I want you to fart on my face and also fart loudly during anal sex, my boyfriend Tyrone Ferguson said calmly to me as we sat cozily inside the Caribbean Sensations Restaurant in the east end of metropolitan Ottawa, Ontario. Located on Montreal Road, the place is small but absolutely wonderful. 

I'm really fond of Caribbean food and have been coming to this quaint little place for a while now. The owner, a kindly forty-something black lady with a charming French accent, makes the most delicious food ever. Seriously, the food is something to write home about. I introduced Tyrone to Caribbean food last month, and now we're both addicted to it.

Tyrone Ferguson and I are addicted to each other as well. Two souls from opposite sides of the globe. We simply can't keep our hands off of each other. Passion is a powerful thing, ladies and gentlemen. It keeps getting us in trouble, though. Like that time Tyrone and I got caught having sex by some bozo at the Saint Laurent Mall. Thanks to my quick thinking, we got away before security could get to us. Still, Tyrone doesn't know when to quit. We can't keep having sex in public spaces, seriously. 

Wow, I said, sipping on my lemonade while eyeing my plate of delicious white rice with brown bean sauce and goat meat. My name is Amina Alzahrani and I'm a young Saudi Arabian woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I study bio-medical engineering at the University of Ottawa, and my boo, Tyrone Ferguson, is from Buffalo, New York. He transferred to Carleton University's MBA program from Buffalo State College. We first met in Buffalo, New York, and later ran into each other at Billings Bridge Mall in Ottawa. We've been together ever since.

Tyrone Ferguson and I love each other, and we have a passionate relationship, but it's not without its challenges. I'm a Muslim woman and Tyrone considers himself a lapsed Christian who's flirting with agnosticism. I'm from the Yanbu region of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, and Tyrone hails from upstate New York. We're from different worlds, to say the least. The fact that we're still together after everything the world threw at us is a miracle, I think.

Tyrone means a lot to me. I love this man something fierce, but the stuff that comes out of his mouth sometimes stuns me. I smiled politely at Tyrone, who flashed me a wicked grin, and touched my knee under the table. Usually, I like this sort of thing. The other patrons in the small Caribbean restaurant, all of them black folks, minded their business instead of staring at us. 

The fact that Tyrone and I, a black man and a hijab-wearing Arab woman, are dining together in this black-owned and operated restaurant didn't seem to bother the owner or the other patrons. We were just another couple dining, that's all. Nobody stared at us or made us feel unwelcome. That's part of the reason why I like Caribbean cuisine and the beautiful, friendly people whom it originates from. They've got diversity among themselves, and don't make someone like me feel unwelcome. I wish other Canadians would emulate them.

Not the time and place dear, I replied to Tyrone Ferguson as politely as I could. The bastard slid his hand between my legs, and I cursed the fact that on this wintry December afternoon, I had chosen to wear a traditional long skirt, in the cultural tradition. Tyrone ignored the smoldering anger in my eyes or my pursed lips and worked his hand up my skirt, to the space between my thighs.

Oh, I said, sighing happily as Tyrone's fingers slid into my cunt. Um, I wasn't wearing any panties. It snowed last night and for some reason, it feels warmer outside after a snowfall. Alright, who am I kidding? I'm a freaky bitch who only wears panties on her period, and that's the damn truth. I willed myself to stay calm, refusing to give into Tyrone's sweet pressure. The bastard slid two fingers into my cunt and twisted them inside of me.

I gritted my teeth and looked into Tyrone's eyes, maintaining my poker face...albeit with great difficulty. I, Amina Alzahrani, am a woman of strong will. I refuse to give in. Beads of sweat pearled on my forehead, and I found myself feeling heat that had nothing to do with the blazing temperature inside the restaurant. I generate my own heat, down below, and Tyrone knows exactly how to get at me...

Fortunately for all involved, Tyrone and I were sitting at the far end of the restaurant, away from prying eyes. I took a deep breath, looked into Tyrone's eyes and grabbed his hand, pulling it away from me. I'm going downstairs to freshen up, I said, all seriousness. I got up, and walked to the stairway leading to the backroom downstairs. I could feel Tyrone's eyes on me. I turned around, flashed him a grin, and disappeared from view.

Five minutes later, Tyrone Ferguson joined me downstairs, and we got busy in the cool, dark room. We kissed passionately, and then did our thing. I sat down on a pile of dusty boxes, hiked up my traditional Islamic skirt, and spread my thighs invitingly. Tyrone buried his face between my legs, and licked my sweet pussy. I cried out in sheer pleasure as Tyrone fingered my pussy, licked my clit and probed me like only he could.

Tyrone licked me good, and then got ready to ease his hard dick into me. Let me taste you, I whispered, and Tyrone stared at me, a surprised smile on his handsome face. Happily I knelt before my chocolate prince and worshipped at his altar. I sucked his big ole dick with gusto, and licked his big hairy balls as well. Something about the way a man's balls smell and taste just gets me hot. I doubt I'm the only woman who feels that way.

I sucked Tyrone's dick until he came, and then, happily, I swallowed every last drop of his cum. Fun and tasty as usual, I said with a grin as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Hell yeah, Tyrone replied, and was about to say something else when approaching footsteps interrupted us. A burly middle-aged black dude came down the stairs, and glared at Tyrone and I, stunned by what he saw. Mezanmi, the old black dude said, and promptly turned tail and rushed back up the stairs.

Not again, I said, rolling my eyes as Tyrone and I hastily readjusted our clothes, and then left the restaurant. The older black dude we saw downstairs was talking animatedly to the restaurant owner, and his eyes went wide when he saw us. Thanks for your hospitality, I said to the lady, who nodded hesitantly. Delicious food we loved it, Tyrone chimed in. Laughing, we made a dash for our car, which we parked across the street from a nearby strip club. Good times, I said, laughing, to Tyrone, as we sped away. 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 12



The things I do for love, Tyrone Ferguson thought to himself as he marched into the Rexall pharmacy located inside the Billings Bridge Mall and asked the skinny, pale woman behind the counter where he might find some Cotex, his Saudi Arabian girlfriend Amina Alzahrani's favorite tampon brand. The woman smiled knowingly, and pointed to one of the store's vast aisles, and Tyrone nodded and somberly marched in that direction.

Tyrone Ferguson sighed after whipping out his Bank of America credit card and paying for the purchase. Resolutely he walked back to the food court, where his lady love awaited. As Salam Alaikum lover, Amina Alzahrani greeted him joyfully. The tall, curvy young Arab woman sat at the very same seat where they met, all those months ago. 

Walaikum As Salam, Tyrone replied, greeting Amina with a chaste kiss on the lips. The young woman's eyes lit up when she saw his purchases. Thank you, Amina said, and put the small packet in her purse. Leaving their coats and belongs at their table, Amina and Tyrone went to the Chinese restaurant and bought a couple of plates. Tyrone got orange chicken with rice and a spring roll, with a lemonade and Amina got noodles with chicken wings and an egg roll, plus a Pepsi.

I got this, Tyrone Ferguson said, and gently laid his hand on Amina's arm as she brandished her CIBC debit card. Tyrone used his Bank of America credit card to pay, and the two of them headed back to their seats. They sat in silence and ate, and then, sensing that something was wrong, Tyrone looked at Amina. What's up mamas? he asked cautiously while sipping on his lemonade. 

Let me pay sometimes, Amina Alzahrani said, and Tyrone Ferguson nodded gently. A gentleman of the old school, Tyrone didn't believe in letting his lady pay for anything. The two of them finished their meals, then walked around the mall. Tyrone smiled to himself as he admired all the Christmas decorations. Christmas had always been his favorite time of the year. 

Born in the City of Buffalo, New York, and raised by the state's foster care system, Tyrone Ferguson grew up hard. The people in whose homes he stayed seldom cared for him and only kept him around to receive the government checks. The few good memories he had of his earliest years revolved around Christmastime. Tyrone remembered an old black woman named Juliana Tolliver, a newcomer to New York from Louisiana who proved to be the only kindly soul he met while in foster care. For the entire year that he was in her care, Juliana Tolliver treated Tyrone Ferguson as though he were her own. The lady had even begun the process of adopting him, when she was gunned down by some thug while shopping at Walgreen's. 

Tyrone Ferguson smiled wistfully as he looked at the large Christmas tree at the center of Billings Bridge Mall, one of the busiest shopping centers in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Amina looked at Tyrone, and gently tugged on his arm. He looked at her, and frowned. Are you okay? Amina asked, carefully looking into Tyrone Ferguson's soulful brown eyes.

I am fine, Tyrone replied, and the two of them continued on their merry way. Tyrone excused himself and went to the local branch of CIBC. Even though he'd been living in Ottawa, Ontario, for over a year, Tyrone still didn't have much faith in Canadian banking. He insisted on using his Bank of America credit card, after notifying his old branch in Buffalo, New York, that he was extending his stay in Ontario, Canada. 

I am here to pay for my credit card, Tyrone told the curvy, dark-haired white lady behind the counter at the bank. Tyrone finished swiping his card, and then instructed the bank teller to pay one hundred dollars from his checking account at CIBC to his Bank of America credit card. The woman did that, then asked Tyrone if he ever thought about getting a credit card with CIBC. Tyrone politely declined, wished the lady a good day and then promptly left.

Here he comes, Amina said, rising from the couch where she sat, near the CIBC entrance. Tyrone smiled at her, put his arm around her waist and then they walked out together. As the couple made their way through the throngs of shoppers filling up Billings Bridge Mall on this frosty late December morning, more than one person looked at them with scrutiny. The sight of a hijab-wearing Arab woman holding hands with a tall, dark-skinned man of African descent was a rarity, even in a place as diverse as Ottawa was slowly becoming.

Ignoring the onlookers, Amina Alzahrani and Tyrone Ferguson walked back upstairs. Amina hugged Tyrone tightly as they rose the escalator together, then went back to the OC Transpo bus station. They caught the 111 bus and headed to Carleton University. Tyrone was currently studying in the Sprott MBA program, which he transferred to from his old school, Buffalo State College. As they rode the bus, Amina silently observed Tyrone, who looked out the window, a sad look on his handsome face.

Fess up, Amina whispered, as she sat next to Tyrone on the third floor of the Carleton University library. Tyrone signed her up at a computer, and reviewed his grades and remaining courses on the Carleton Central website. Tyrone's grades in his courses at the Sprott School of Business were impressive. Amina was close to completing her Master's degree in the bio-medical engineering program at the University of Ottawa. Encouraging her man in all of his endeavors was what Amina did.

Instead of browsing through Facebook or YouTube, Amina kept staring at Tyrone Ferguson pointedly, until, tired of it, the young African-American scholar confessed to her what had been truly bothering him. Christmas always gives me the blues, Tyrone began, and Amina nodded gently, urging him to continue. Seeing him in pain bothered the hell out of Amina.

Amina listened intently as Tyrone told her about Christmastime in Buffalo, new York, with the only parent figure he'd ever had, the woman who encouraged him in his studies, the late Julianna Tolliver. I am so sorry, Amina whispered when Tyrone finished with his story. Tyrone sighed and nodded. Taking his face into her hands, Amina kissed him full and deep. Thank heaven for you, Tyrone whispered, hugging her tightly. 

Let's go home, Amina whispered, and Tyrone grinned. The two of them left the library together, but didn't make it to the bus station. Tyrone and Amina got into a secluded room in Loeb, which happened to be dark and deserted. Once there, they got their freak on. Tyrone laid Amina on a table, pulled down her panties, hiked up her long, traditional Islamic skirt and began munching on her pussy. 

Eat me up, Amina whispered as Tyrone began licking her pussy and fingering her snatch. Soon Tyrone had her crying out, and the Saudi Arabian MILF smiled happily as her lover pleasured her. He licked her up, and when Amina came, her cunt oozing girly cum, Tyrone tasted her sweet nectar. Sighing happily, Amina looked at her lover and told him to fuck her. Tyrone didn't need to be told twice. 

The tall, handsome African-American scholar stroked his long and thick, uncircumcised ebony dick and pressed it against Amina's cunt. Go for it, the Saudi gal whispered, and Tyrone entered her with one swift thrust. Amina moaned happily and wrapped her arms lovingly around Tyrone's torso as he began fucking her with gusto. Raising her thick legs in the air, Tyrone slammed his dick into her cunt, and Amina squealed in delight.

Fuck me in the ass, Amina whispered, and Tyrone Ferguson smiled wickedly. Gently he pressed his dick against Amina's asshole. Lying on her back, legs spread, her finger embedded in her cunt, Amina looked beyond inviting. You got it Miss Alzahrani, Tyrone said with a grin, taking some hand lotion and applying it to Amina's hole. With a swift thrust he entered her. Yes, Amina hissed, and Tyrone began fucking her in earnest.

Amina cried out in pleasure as Tyrone filled her asshole with his dick, and this seemed to turn him on even more. Wrapping her arms around Tyrone, Amina dug her nails into the tender flesh of his back as he fucked her. Tyrone pounded away at her, fucking her tight asshole with gusto until he finally came. Amina's squeals morphed into howls of delight mixed with deliciously hot pain as he came inside of her, flooding her hole with his cum.

That was fantastic, Amina said, sighing happily as Tyrone nodded, then kissed her. He was about to say something when approaching footsteps interrupted them. Not again, Amina grumbled, hastily readjusting her clothes while Tyrone did the same. Giggling, the two of them exited the room together. A hijab-wearing, dark-skinned, thirty-something cleaning lady looked at them like they had two heads. Amina shrugged while Tyrone smiled wickedly. The grinning couple made a mad dash toward the nearest exit. Just another day in paradise for the two of them. Amina and Tyrone laughed all the way home. 



Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 13



As Salam Alaikum, dear readers. My name is Amina Alzahrani and I'm a young Saudi Arabian woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. My boyfriend Tyrone Ferguson hails from the City of Buffalo, New York, and we're living proof that opposites truly do attract. We met at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo almost two years ago, and we reunited at Billings Bridge Mall in Ottawa a while ago, and have been together ever since.

Fate brought us together, Tyrone Ferguson and I. How else could you explain the fact that we met in the first place? I'm from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, the world's most conservative country, a religious autocracy, and Tyrone Ferguson, the love of my life, hails from the United States of America. Our two homelands are as different as night and day. Yet Tyrone and I not only found common ground, but against all odds, we fell in love and decided to stay together.

I have some wonderful news, for those of you who have been following our adventures since the beginning. I'm pregnant, and Tyrone is ecstatic about becoming a father. You see, Tyrone was raised in the foster care system of the State of New York and never had a real family. For him, starting a family of his own is a dream come true. I love Tyrone and I am thrilled that we're about to become parents. Still, this new development has certainly made our lives somewhat harder.

It's often been said that parenthood changes everything, and I'm finding this to be true. Tyrone and I moved to the Gloucester area of Ottawa, since it's cheaper over there. We found a three-bedroom apartment that only cost us a thousand dollars a month, everything included. It's located about ten minutes from the Blair Shopping Center, one of our favorite hangouts. That's cool, right? Tyrone and I live within walking distance of the Silver City movie theater, the spot where we've had some much fun in. Another bonus of our new locale, if you ask me.

Whenever Tyrone Ferguson and I go out together, we get stared at a lot. A tall African-American man holding hands with a curvy, bronze-skinned and dark-eyed, Hijab-wearing Arab woman from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Even in a diverse town like Ottawa, people stare at us. A lot. Especially folks from Africa or the Arab world. The looks on the faces of Arab men when they see me with Tyrone is one of pure hatred. 

The funny thing? Lots of those same Arab guys who seem angered or disgusted to see me pregnant with Tyrone's brood have white girlfriends or black girlfriends themselves. In the Arab world, it's considered okay for Arab men to have dalliances and even marriages with African women and white women but if an Arab woman has a relationship with a man who isn't Arab, there's an uproar. Not fair if you ask me but whatever. I'm just a woman living my life. I am with the man that I love. So what if we're from different racial groups, different cultures and different faiths? At the end of the day, I'm a regular woman and Tyrone is a regular guy. We're in love, you see.

Tyrone Ferguson and I are having a tough time lately. Now, for prenatal care, I went to AppleTree medical center, and everything worked out just fine. I want to make sure everything goes right, for I'm about to become a mother for the first time. It's a very exciting time for me. I can't wait to see what our future son or daughter will look like. I'm two months pregnant, and I'm just starting to show. I am super excited!

One bonus of being pregnant is that it's really improved our sex lives, Tyrone Ferguson and I. Seriously, I actually feel like I'm horny all the damn time. Not that I'm complaining, because Tyrone knows how to satisfy my womanly needs, and then some. Just the other day, while we were at the Bay Shore Shopping Center on the other side of the City of Ottawa, my boo and I got our freak on in an out of sight area near the damn parking lot.

The Bay Shore Shopping Center is under construction, has been for quite a while now. The good thing about that? There are no-go areas that only construction workers and mall staff are able to get into. Well, mall staff and determined horny folks like my sweetheart Tyrone Ferguson and I. The two of us got our freak on like this a few months ago at the Saint Laurent Mall in the east end of Ottawa. Time for a little repeat, only at a different location. Tyrone and I had ourselves some fun.

It's often been said that sex in public places can be intoxicating and thrilling and after what happened between Tyrone Ferguson and I at the Bay Shore Mall, I am inclined to wholeheartedly agree. Tyrone and I found a secluded spot amid all the construction stuff, underneath the mall, in the no-go areas where shoppers are forbidden to enter, and we did our thing. Tyrone and I got it on in a dirty, cramped room that smelled of dust and mold, and construction stuff, and it actually made everything hotter.

I didn't undress the whole way, since Tyrone Ferguson and I might have to leave the place in a hurry, but partial nudity is erotic in and of itself, sometimes a lot more so than full nudity. I kept my Hijab on, and unzipped my blouse, freeing my breasts, and Tyrone caressed and sucked on them. When my boo kissed a path from my tits to my thighs, I sighed happily and spread my legs for him. Tyrone Ferguson buried his face between my thighs, and stuck his tongue on my clitoris while fingering my pussy.

Tyrone had me screaming and moaning in no time, and soon, I was itching for his dick inside of me. My boo turned me around and kissed my thick Saudi Arabian booty, then fucked me doggy style, just the way I like it. My pussy gripped Tyrone's dick tightly and he put his hands on those wide hips of mine, fucking me with gusto. Tyrone even spanked my big, round ass as he fucked me hard, and I loved every damn minute of it.

To really shine me on, Tyrone fingered my butt hole while fucking my cunt. I moaned softly, for I loved what he was doing to me. I turned around, winked at Tyrone and asked him, no, I told him to fuck my ass. What do you think my favorite African-American stud's reply was? I smiled wickedly as Tyrone used the bottle of lubricant I plucked out of my purse and lubricated my hole, then eased his dick into my asshole.

I love anal sex, always have and always will. Is it because, as a Muslim woman, I know it goes against some of the most sacred tenets of Islam? Nah, it's because I enjoy it. The pressure, the wicked pleasure mixed with deliciously hot pain down below. I've got that fire down below and only Tyrone's dick can quench it, as his dick packs my asshole, reaching into forbidden depths never before touched and prodded. I screamed passionately as Tyrone's dick filled my ass, and at last I knew true sexual bliss.

Tyrone Ferguson and I continued with our fun, and then afterwards, we readjusted our clothes, had ourselves a giggle, and then we walked away. We left the Bay Shore Shopping Center and grabbed the number ninety six bus heading to Blair from the nearby OC Transpo station. We're definitely going to need a car, I thought to myself as Tyrone and I sat on the bus, holding hands and smiling. A bright red minivan, so Tyrone and I can drive around, and on occasion, fuck like jackrabbits, that is until our son or daughter comes into the world. Wish us luck.