1 comments/ 3704 views/ 2 favorites Maimuna The Somali MILF By: Samuelx What's up people? Stefano Saint-Mathieu here. Technically, I'm supposed to leave work around seven in the morning but I almost never do. The bus heading to Nepean stops by the Bank Street building where I work overnight security around six thirty five, and I try my best to catch it. Otherwise I'd have to wait for the next one at six forty five, and in the freezing core of downtown Ottawa, that sucks. The Ontario winter is no joke. So I always make a run for it when I see the bus. I absolutely hate working security downtown, too many government worker type of bozos with their heads up their asses in the building where I work. Seriously, if you're a young black man walking around the Canadian capital, people stare at you a lot, even though Ottawa has sizeable populations of African, Arab and Asian immigrants. Diversity is here to stay but not everyone is happy about it. Working in an office building full of uptight, smug white folks can be taxing on the body and the mind. The fact that half of my fellow security guards are bitter, disgruntled and rude old white guys doesn't make my life any easier. I swear, there are two Canada instead of one. What do I mean by that? Please let me clarify. On the one side you've got diverse Canada, full of Africans, Arabs, Asians, Aboriginals and other visible minorities, and we're a young, fast-breeding and energetic group, and on the other hand you've got old-school or traditional Canada which is old, white, and dull. The two are starting to clash, man. I see it at work all the time. You've got a lot of Somali guys, Haitian guys and Arab guys working security at office buildings and government buildings in downtown Ottawa while attending local colleges and universities, and they're usually being supervised by old white guys who are close to retirement age. The two groups don't get along at all. Makes our workplaces a minefield. Any wonder I hate my job? That morning, I caught the OC Transpo bus by a hair and I saw a lot of unfamiliar faces. You get used to your morning commute and certain faces become familiar, whether you like it or not. I sat in the first row behind the seats reserved for old people, pregnant women, or what-have-you, and briefly skimmed through the novel I picked up at the campus library. The Broker by John Grisham, the author whose novels inspired me to aspire to go to law school, back when I just a snot-nosed brat from the Caribbean freshly arrived in Canada. The nearly six feet tall, Hijab-wearing, brown-skinned Somali lady with the thick ass sat down in the row opposite mine definitely raised my temperature on that frosty Wednesday morning in mid-February, let me tell you. I've always had a thing for mature Somali women, especially the conservatively attired ones. Blame that on Fatouma, a Somali lady I met a few years back. We became friends, and even flirted some, though not much came of it. I'm of Haitian descent, and a Catholic, those factors make meeting Somali women kind of hard since they're pretty much all Muslim and tend to stick with guys from their faith and culture. Oh, well, a guy can dream, can't he? I kept reading my book, and from time to time, I checked out the Somali MILF. I'm twenty seven years old, you'd think I'd stop using frat guy terminologies but nope, growing older doesn't change how I feel about ladies of a certain age. My favorite porn site of all time is The MILF Hunter, it's packed full of videos of sexy mature ladies, and I've been watching it since my high school days. I noticed that the tall Somali MILF was reading a small booklet with a green cover and some Arabic lettering on its inner pages. The cover read Fortress Of The Muslim, and I guessed it to be some kind of religious book. Not the Koran, mind you, but something containing Islamic religious texts. That's cool, I guess. I'm all for respecting people's right to practice their religion. The Somali lady closed her eyes and repeated some words to herself, and in that moment, my heart skipped a beat. Whether it's because of the way her Hijab framed her lovely brown face, or the sincerity I saw as she prayed ( or whatever ) with her eyes closed, I don't know, but the Somali MILF had this brother mesmerized. Seriously, I found her completely and utterly beautiful, and I say this as respectfully as I can. The bus rolled on, and soon we reached the university campus. I happen to attend this university, and I'm close to getting my criminology degree. I didn't qualify for OSAP so I've got to pay my own way. Canada's capital university is a lovely institution full of bright people, but it's definitely not cheap. The tall Somali lady put her book into her bag, rubbed her hands together, donned her gloves and then got up. My eyes followed her as she made her way to the central building, and disappeared inside. I smiled to myself as the bus drove on, and then I got off a few stops after the university campus. I got home at seven thirty that morning, and went straight to bed after kicking off my boots. Seriously, I just tossed off my security coat and collapsed in bed, still wearing my uniform shirt and dark pants. Yup, I'm a tired black man, folks. I woke up around two o'clock, and then showered and got ready to return downtown. You see, I've got the worst schedule ever when it comes to my security job. On Mondays, I work from three in the afternoon till eleven. I come in Tuesday night at eleven and finish at seven in the morning on Wednesday. I come back at three on Wednesday afternoon and finish at seven in the afternoon ( a short, crappy shift ) and then return Thursday night at eleven to finish at seven on Friday morning. That's twenty eight hours of work per week ( I refuse to work weekends ) at twelve dollars and seventy five cents per hour. My rent costs four hundred a month, and I've got utilities and groceries to worry about, not to mention tuition. Yeah, I don't have much of a life. I've got a criminology class at eight in the morning on Monday and a law class at six in the evening on Thursdays. I'm very close to getting all the credits I need to graduate with a bachelor's degree in criminology from this fine but expensive Canadian university. My life is a struggle but I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Given my busy schedule, I don't have much of a life, and I honestly cannot tell you the last time I had sex or went on a date. My last relationship ended a year and a half ago. I was dating this white chick named Emily and she had issues. Dumped me out of the blue and blocked me from Facebook and Twitter. Never provided me with an explanation. Isn't love grand, folks? Come Thursday, I went to school early, wanting to see my friends and bask in the ambience of the university campus. I love my school, and hate both my job and the crappy house that I share with some truly lousy and noisy roommates. School is my refuge, seriously. The racist white bozos working downtown look down on me when they see me, a tall young black man in a security uniform. Once I get my criminology degree, I'm going straight to Law School and then I'm going to be what they all fear, a professional black man who's going places. Fuck Ottawa and the racist creeps who live and work in it, seriously. I love my university campus because it's racially diverse, you see lots of students of all colors, and for the most part, we get along. That's how the rest of Canada ought to be. Maybe it'll be that way once we so-called visible minorities outnumber white Canadians in all the major cities. It's going to happen even if that xenophobic creep Prime Minister Stephen Harper fights against it. Bozo can't stop us all. I was walking around the central building with my buddy Ramon, a stocky Mexican dude, when I saw...her. The tall Somali gal from the bus. The lady was pushing a cart, and I suddenly realized that she was a cleaner. I stood there, mesmerized by the sight of the tall, serene lady walking calmly through throngs of students, pushing her cart. Suddenly, some bozo running bumped into her, didn't excuse himself, and caused her cart to flip over. People just stared but did nothing to help her. I rushed to the Somali lady's aid, and righted her cart, then apologized for the rude runner's behavior. The Somali lady seemed surprised by my gesture and told me that I looked vaguely familiar. I hesitated, then introduced myself as Mathieu, security guard and university student who hopes to become a lawyer someday. The lady smiled, and then did something I wasn't expecting. Extending her hand toward me, she introduced herself as Maimuna Jibril, newcomer from Somalia. Thus we were introduced, Maimuna Jibril and I. Definitely one for the ages, I think. I shook her hand, wished her a good day and walked away, while my buddy Ramon blathered on about his latest conquest, some big-booty Jamaican chick. The next morning, when I finished my overnight security work, guess who I saw on the bus? The lovely Maimuna, and she remembered me. Grinning, Maimuna called me by name and asked me to sit next to her. I grinned so broadly my face nearly split. That's how it began, ladies and gentlemen. The relationship destined to change my life. Maimuna Jibril was born in the Hiran region of Somalia, and lost her husband Ali and their daughter Amina to the tribal warfare which plagued Somalia for much of their lives. I was saddened when Maimuna revealed these things to me. The lady was thirty six years old and had been through so much. I promised Maimuna that I would be her friend and protector in Ottawa, and the lady laughed and nodded. We became friends, Maimuna and I. True, we were from different worlds. I was born on the island of Haiti and raised in Ottawa, Ontario. I'm a Canadian citizen via naturalization. Maimuna was a newcomer to Canada, and a refugee claimant whose claim just got accepted by the Canadian immigration bureau. The poor woman just wanted to rebuild her life, and the only relative she had left on this earth was her older sister Aisha, who recently left Ottawa for Calgary, thanks to a techie job she found in the Prairies. Maimuna had been through a lot, but I was determined to help her enjoy life again. Canada can be so tough on newcomers, seriously. Maimuna speaks English, French, Italian and the Somali language. Someone with those talents should find a better job in Canada than just cleaning on a university campus. Maimuna told me that she wanted to go back to school and had already gotten accepted at La Cite Collegiale. Nursing is what she wanted to study. Back in Somalia, Maimuna worked as a nurse at one of Mogadishu's few remaining medical centers. Maimuna and I began hanging out casually, and I took her to movies and malls, helping her see the good side of Ottawa. Yes, the town is boring and full of racist, passive-aggressive bozos but there are good people here, and our growing racial diversity is something to behold. Maimuna was a shut-in, and I knew this wasn't healthy. On one of our most memorable outings, I took Maimuna to see the movie 50 Shades of Grey at the Silver City movie theater in the east end of Ottawa. We walked out of the movie theater laughing and smiling, and Maimuna couldn't shut up about the movie. I wasn't sure how Maimuna would react, being a conservative Muslim woman and all. Islam and the kinky lifestyle explored in the movie don't mix, I think. I guess at that point I knew little about Islam, or about women, but Maimuna was about to rectify that, ladies and gentlemen. What do I mean by that? Just read on, please. We were walking around the Blair shopping center when, suddenly, Maimuna laid her hand on my arm, and thanked me for showing her a wonderful time. I looked into Maimuna's mesmerizing, golden brown eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. We looked into each other's eyes, and neither of us said anything. And then, um, we kissed. Maimuna and I kissed, and it was just a ten-second peck, nothing like what you see in the movies or on TV nowadays. Nevertheless, it was a kiss. I, Stefano Saint-Mathieu, the burly yet shy Haitian dude, kissed Maimuna Jibril, the tall, gorgeous Somali MILF who took my breath away the first time I laid eyes on her. How about that? Grinning nervously, I told Maimuna that she had sweet lips. The lady smiled, and told me that she had much to teach me. I'm in university, as I said before, and when the person teaching me things is a smoking hot Somali lady like Maimuna, I'm an eager learner! Maimuna The Somali MILF Ch. 02 As I say my morning prayers, I thank Allah, the one true God, for sending a veritable angel on my path. I'm talking about Stefano Saint-Mathieu, of course. The young Haitian man I met at the university campus where I work as a cleaner. We ride the bus together and have for months but I never even noticed him until that fateful day. Now we're friends...and more. Well, we kissed while coming from the movies the other day. Wallahi, now my heart beats faster every time Stefano looks my way. I think I'm too old for this shit, getting butterflies in my stomach like a school gal with a crush on a male classmate. At least that's what I tell myself. Truth be told, it's not a bad feeling. I think that when you stop feeling these types of feelings, you're dead inside and that's never a good thing. I feel alive for the first time in ages, and I owe it all to a certain young man from the Caribbean. My name is Maimuna Jibril and I'm a thirty-six-year-old Somali Muslim immigrant woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I have been living in the Capital for a year now. I work as a cleaner and I am going back to school soon to study Nursing. I was a Nurse back in Somalia, but the Canadian government doesn't respect or acknowledge the credentials of people from Third World countries. I can't stand that about them. Life has thrown many upheavals my way lately. I moved to Ontario, Canada, a little over a year ago and stayed with my sole living relative, my sister Aisha. Unfortunately, Aisha left for Calgary, leaving me to fend for myself. This is a vulnerable time in my life. I lost my husband Ali and my daughter Amina to the tribal warfare which has plagued our homeland of Somalia for decades. I still mourn their loss, and a part of me always will. Still, part of me believes that the time has come for me to live again. That's why I went to the Silver City movie theater with Stefano, and watched the movie 50 Shades of Grey with him. Honestly, the film's nearly pornographic content both shocked and thrilled me. I hadn't been to the movie theater in a long time and trust me, they don't show movies like that at the few movie theaters in the City of Mogadishu, Capital of Somalia. We're an Islamic nation and movies like that are too much for Muslim standards, thank you very much. Still, I can't blame the movie for what came over me as I walked with Stefano through the Blair Shopping Center after the flick. I must say that I was thoroughly enjoying the company of Stefano, a charming young Christian man originally from the island of Haiti. The only one to come to my aid when some creep slammed into me at work and overturned the cart I'd been dutifully pushing around as I went about my cleaning duties on campus. Don't ask me why but Stefano and I have bonded since then. Look, I'm a lonely woman and Stefano is a handsome, charming and friendly young man. That's part of the reason why I kissed him. At least that's what I tell myself. Truth is that I hadn't felt a man's touch in ages, and even a grieving woman has her womanly needs. I must confess something, dear reader. I'd been having some inappropriate and downright sexual thoughts of the handsome Christian lad known as Stefano for quite some time now. Not that I would ever admit such a thing to him. At least not yet. That night, after I got home, I lay in bed, and thought of Stefano Saint-Mathieu, the handsome Haitian stud with the sweetest lips. I came home tired after a day spent cleaning one of the largest university campuses in the City of Ottawa. I went straight to bed, after kicking off my boots. I lay in bed, clad in a long-sleeved shirt, traditional Islamic long skirt, and my socks. Seriously, this tired black woman needed her rest, pure and simple. Try as I might, I couldn't sleep, for something more than tiredness kept me awake. Lust coursed through me like river through an empty valley. I thought of Stefano, my face felt flush and I felt a wetness begin between my legs. Look, if any of this surprises you, it really shouldn't. I, Maimuna Jibril of Somalia am a proud Muslim woman, that's true, but I'm also a regular female and I have my womanly needs. Translation? I need sex and love just like all other women on this planet do. Got it? Cool. A guilty smile crept into my face as my hand slipped under my long, traditional Islamic skirt and found its way into my panties. My fingers wormed their way into my already wet cunt. I slid two fingers into my pussy, and then dug deep before bringing them to my lips. I tasted and smelled my cunt, smiled and resumed fingering myself. I thought of Stefano Saint-Mathieu, the tall and burly Haitian stud whose face haunts my dreams. I fingered my cunt, envisioning Stefano Saint-Mathieu pulling me into those strong-looking arms of his and kissing me passionately. In my fantasy, the Haitian stud kissed me full and deep, then laid me on the bed, and began licking me from my head to my toes. It got so intense and I got so horny that I needed something more than my fingers up my cunt. I reached into a nearby drawer and saw my butt plug and a nice, long and thick green dildo. What's a gal to do? Smiling, I grabbed both, along with the bottle of Aloe Cream hand lotion that was on the nearby nightstand. Believe me when I say that I made really, really good use of them, folks. I took the green dildo and buried it deep inside my pussy, sighing happily as I penetrated myself with it. Like the closeted greedy slut that I am ( yes sluts can wear the hijab too ) I didn't stop there. Nope, I like to fill filled up. So I took the butt plug, lubricated it with Aloe Cream and then slowly worked it into my asshole. Finally, I'm full! Yeah, I fucked myself and envisioned Stefano Saint-Mathieu fucking me furiously, his thick Haitian dick invading first my tight, woefully neglected mature Somali pussy and then my tight, tight asshole. I came to a guilty pleasure after half an hour of drilling my toys into my cunt and asshole. I cried out and cursed in Somali and English, and profane, of course, the truly universal language. Can't wait for the real thing, I thought as I looked forward to my next outing with Stefano Saint-Mathieu of Haiti. This Somali diva is definitely going to make up for lost time. Stefano won't even know what hit him! Maimuna The Somali MILF Ch. 03 As Salam Alaikum, people. Maimuna Jibril here. I am a 36-year-old Somali Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Recently, something amazing happened. A remarkable man came into my life, a beautiful young man from the island of Haiti, and I'm honestly falling in love with him. His name is Stefano Saint-Mathieu, and we met on the OC Transpo bus that I ride every morning from downtown Ottawa to the university campus where I work as a cleaner. Stefano Saint-Mathieu and I come from different worlds, but we've actually fallen in love. No one was more surprised about this than yours truly, seriously. I never thought I'd love another human being after losing my husband Ali and my daughter Amina to the tribal warfare afflicting my homeland of Somalia. Stefano came into my life, quite unexpectedly, and he's been an injection of energy and passion into my otherwise dreary existence. I can't get enough of this marvelous young Haitian stud, that's for damn sure. Stefano is tall, dark and handsome, and works as a security guard at an office in downtown Ottawa. He also studies at the university campus where I work as a cleaner. We were destined to meet one day, that's what I'm honestly starting to believe. Stefano makes me feel alive and cared for like no man before. Did you know that I've never actually received flowers in my entire life? The other day, Stefano had flowers delivered to me at my place in Vanier. How awesome is that? You've got to understand that, as a woman born and raised in Somalia, an Islamic country, there are things which women in Judeo-Christian, democratic and Western-style nations take for granted which women like me can only dream about. In Somalia, marriages are arranged according to the wishes of the Elders of the Clan in which a young Somali, male or female, was born. You don't get to pick and choose. It's up to your clan elders, and the men of your family. That's the fate of women in places like Somalia, Djibouti, Somaliland and Puntland. I cared deeply for my slain husband Ali and our daughter Amina, but Ali and I did not marry out of love. We were from two different clans that are culturally related to each other, so the Elders of his Clan arranged for Ali to marry me. Ali treated me with respect and kindness, but we didn't have a passionate marriage. In Somalia, marriages aren't about love and passion. It's the foundation for society. We marry for the continuation of our clans, our bloodlines, and our culture. The romanticism that Westerners attach to their relationships always irked me, until I met Stefano, a young Black man raised in Western society. I was ecstatic, and that night, as I lay on my bed, I smelled the flowers, and dreamed of my sweet Stefano. My favorite Haitian stud was working overnight, and I seriously wished he were at home so I could thank him properly for the flowers. The following night, Stefano and I dined at Soleil Des Iles, a quaint little Haitian restaurant in the east end of Ottawa and afterwards, we watched the movie Annie, the cool remake with Jamie Foxx and that white lady from the movie Troy, and had ourselves a lot of fun. Of course, the real fun didn't begin for Stefano and I until we got back to my place. I invited Stefano to my place for some tea, but we never even made it to the kitchen. Indeed, we went straight to my bedroom. As a tall, voluptuous and strongly built Somali Muslim woman, I have reserves of energy that would intimidate most males, but Stefano Saint-Mathieu, the gorgeous Haitian stud who stole my heart, is definitely not most men. And I'm happy to say that the esteemed Stefano continues to thrill me, in and out of the bedroom. One of the many things I love about Stefano is the fact that he constantly tells me how beautiful I am, and proves to me how delightful he finds me. Remember that I come from a place where men are all-important and a woman's place is at home, away from any sphere of importance. Stefano appreciates me for my beauty, my brains, my dreams and hopes. When I told him that I got accepted at La Cite Collegiale, where I'm going to start studying Nursing, Stefano took me out to celebrate and encouraged me. The lad is amazing, seriously! Once in the bedroom, Stefano Saint-Mathieu, the perfect gentleman, morphed into Stefano the wild sexual conqueror. A startling, wickedly sexy transformation came over my favorite tall, dark and handsome Haitian stud. Undressing me hastily, Stefano laid me on the bed, and proceeded to make sweet love to me. I lay there, completely relaxed, as Stefano licked me from my head to my toes. Stefano believes that every inch of the female body is to be appreciated and the brother from Haiti definitely practices that which he preaches. I gently rubbed my tits together and clucked my tongue as Stefano buried his face between my thighs, and licked my pussy. The brother took his sweet time as he pleasured me, and I moaned gently, loving what Stefano was doing to me. I've heard all kinds of things about Haitians and their Voodoo magic, and I've come to realize that magic of the bedroom is what these people possess, if my angel Stefano Saint-Mathieu is any indication. Seriously, a lot of my female friends say that most men consider eating pussy to be some kind of chore. Well, maybe that's the case with their husbands or boyfriends but my Stefano is not like the others. The Haitian stud loves the taste of my sweet Somali pussy. And he knows how to pleasure me down there. I cried out, orgasmic, after Stefano methodically stabbed my clit with his tongue while his fingers probed my pussy. Stefano gathered me into his arms as my body thrashed wildly in orgasmic delight, then kissed me. Afterwards, Stefano put me on all fours, and eased his long and thick, uncircumcised dick into my wet cunt. I pressed my thick Somali derriere against Stefano's groin, driving his dick deeper inside of me. The Haitian stud gripped my hips and fucked me good and proper, slamming his dick into my pussy. I cried out his name, and we made love passionately. Much later, I kissed Stefano and thanked him for being all the amazing things that he is. Stefano smiled and shrugged, then we fell asleep. Maimuna The Somali MILF Ch. 04 According to the most sacred tenets of the Islamic faith, anal sex is haram or forbidden. My new lady love, Maimuna Jibril, is a foxy Somali MILF and a newcomer to the City of Ottawa, Ontario. The nearly six-foot-tall, voluptuous and sinfully sexy brown lady who took my breath away is a practicing Muslim. How I, Stefano Saint-Mathieu, the Haitian seducer, sweet talked my favorite Somali goddess into giving up the booty is a testament to my skills and persistence. Seriously. Finally, I had Maimuna Jibril right where I wanted her. Seriously, I've dreamed of fucking my tall, curvy and big-bottomed Somali goddess up the ass ever since I first laid eyes on her on the OC Transpo bus. There's something about these curvy, Hijab-wearing ladies I see walking up and down Ottawa. I'm intensely and passionately drawn to them, man. Can't help myself. We all like the forbidden fruit, and what's more forbidden for an infidel like myself that a conservatively attired Muslim woman? Not that I consider my sweet Maimuna Jibril a trophy by any means. The Somali MILF means much more to me than that. Indeed, the lady from Somalia has brought excitement and life into my otherwise dreary existence. I'm in my late twenties, an outcast among the Haitian community of Ottawa because of my wicked ways, and I was basically ghosting through life, the only activities I engaged in were studying at a local university and working as a security guard in downtown Ottawa. Not much of a life, eh? Before I met Maimuna Jibril, I hadn't been with a woman in ages. The life of a university student in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, can certainly be a lonely one. I work security, the world's lousiest job, and I put up with a lot. Most of my co-workers are old white dudes, the most close-minded and bigoted segment of the Canadian population if you ask me. What do I mean by that? Ask any minority male living in Ottawa and they'll tell you the same damn thing. Old white guys in the Capital of Canada don't like minorities. They remember the old days when Canada was lily-white, and Natives and Aboriginals were kept out of sight of proper white citizens. I bet these racist creeps miss those old days. They see me, a big and tall young black man, and for some reason it sets them on edge. I don't want to work as a security guard for the rest of my life. I'm close to getting my degree from Canada's Capital university, and once I do, I'll get myself a much better job. Got to get the university degree, then hopefully a lot of doors will open up for me. Danger, educated black man walking! I'm not like other minority guys who graduate from Canadian universities and then settle for working at Starbucks or Tim Horton's because they can't get hired by the bigots who run the private sector and the Canadian government. The white guys and white chicks working in the human resources departments of both private corporations and government agencies are allergic to educated people of color, hence why they don't like to hire us. If Canada won't offer me a job, I'll happily move to the States. If Canada wants to continue giving all the cool jobs to dumb-ass white dudes, the world's fastest shrinking demographic at last count, then they can keep doing it and kiss my black ass while they're at it. I know what the social and demographic future of North America looks like. It's colorful, and there's no white in the rainbow. Pass it on, golfers. I figure the U.S. is a lot more open to hiring educated men of my complexion than Canada. Look at President Obama, dammit. If a brother with an Ivy League education can reach that number one spot, then the United States of America is definitely the land of opportunity. I'm not naïve about the U.S. alright? I know about how the police treat minority males, and I know about the racial bias in the justice system. I am neither afraid nor intimidated by any of that. I'm a strong brother through and true. In Ontario, Canada, if you're educated and ambitious and you're also a person of color, then they ( the white majority ) fear and hate you. At least in the States, brothers and sisters with education and ambition have a snowball's chance in hell of finding work in their field and making something of themselves. In Canada, we don't even have that slim chance. I've seen too many educated minority types working at Tim Horton's while they've got a University of Ottawa MBA hanging on their bedroom wall at home. Not fair, man. Oh, fuck. I'm doing it again. Sorry, I digress. You came here to read some hot erotica, not hear about social commentary on race relations and higher education in Canada. I had a particularly rough night at work because I got into a shouting match with Ferguson, this old white dude who's been working security at the Bank Street building for the past thirty years. Seriously, that old bastard must love this building. Seriously, the level of disrespect shown to me by this racist old creep pissed me off like you would not believe. I told Ferguson that he should watch his damn mouth, and the racist old creep mumbled something to Mac, the security team's only black supervisor, an old Jamaican dude who's also been working security in this building for several decades. Guess who the black supervisor sided with in the argument? The racist old white dude of course. That's why black Canadians will never get anywhere. They don't stick together. They're all eager to sell out their own to please the racist white man. I was thinking about all that shit as I boarded the OC Transpo bus on Bank Street and headed home after that dreadful overnight security shift. Guess who I ran into on the bus? The lovely Maimuna Jibril, the tall Somali MILF who stole my heart. Smiling, Maimuna sat next to me, and laid her hand on my lap. I smiled at her, and entwined her fingers with mine. Would you believe it if I told you that the sight of Maimuna made me forget all of my worries? Maimuna sensed my somber mood, and I gave her the Cliffs Notes version of what went down between me and the old guys at work. When I finished my little spiel, Maimuna took my face into her hands and kissed me. I was a bit surprised, but kissed Maimuna back passionately. Imagine my surprise when Maimuna decided to call in sick at work and went home to take care of me. Am I a lucky man or what? Once we got to my place, Maimuna and I had a long, hot shower. I needed it but Maimuna sure as hell didn't, but we certainly enjoyed kissing and fondling each other under the hot water. I thought people only had sex in the shower in the movies. I'd been with a few ladies in my time and not once did I do it in the shower with one. When Maimuna suggested it, I was all for it. I don't argue with hot naked women. Shoot, I don't argue with women, period! Maimuna and I began making sweet love under the hot water, and I delighted in exploring that tall, voluptuous body of hers. I fondled and sucked on her breasts while fingering her wet, hairy cunt. I propped Maimuna up on the washroom counter and she spread her thick, shapely thighs invitingly. I buried my face between Maimuna's legs, and licked her sweet pussy. After giving a tongue bath to Maimuna's sweet-tasting Somali cunt, I turned my lady love around and gave her thick, round and heart-shaped derriere the worship it so richly deserves. Look, I'm a Haitian man, my long-ago naturalization to Canadian be damned, and every Haitian man on the planet is an ass man. I kissed, licked and fondled Maimuna's big round butt, and my lady giggled and encouraged me to continue. Ass worship is a sweet science, folks. It simply cannot be rushed. Since Maimuna just washed her cunt and ass with soap and water, I felt free to explore her butt hole with my eager tongue and hungry mouth. I buried my face between Maimuna's voluminous ass cheeks and worked my tongue into her hot, tight asshole. Soon Maimuna was moaning loudly and urging me to continue. The Somali MILF had never had her ass eaten before. Well, it's a good thing she's with yours truly. Eating ass is something I personally love, and I swear, I enjoy it more than I like eating pussy sometimes. Of course, it helps that my sweet Maimuna had a clean, relaxed and open ass. I swear, every time I see a big-booty Somali woman walking around Ottawa with her Hijab and that booty ready to pop out of her skirt or pants, I just want to worship that hot, forbidden Islamic ass. Now, thanks to Maimuna, I got to indulge my fantasy. I had my tongue buried in her asshole when Maimuna did something which shocked me to my core. No, the lady did not fart. Otherwise I would have died. Maimuna turned around, winked at me and asked me if I'd ever fucked a woman in the ass before. Um, of course not, but like ninety nine percent of straight men, I dream of banging a female in the ass. I was more than happy to take Maimuna up on her offer. Now, anal sex is not something which can be done on the fly. You need lube, patience and more lube if you're going to get it done. Luckily for Maimuna and I, my washroom had everything we needed. We used Aloe cream for lubricant. I applied some on my dick while Maimuna spread her thick ass cheeks wide open and applied some on her tiny hole. Grinning, I kissed Maimuna's big derriere once more, and told her I was ready. Grinning, Maimuna bent over the washroom counter and spread her thick, sexy ass cheeks wide open. I smiled and pressed my dick against her backdoor. I was almost bubbling with excitement. Seriously, I'd never fucked anyone in the ass before. I eased my dick into Maimuma's warm, tight ass, and the sensation almost overwhelmed me. Anal sex is very different from vaginal intercourse, and the tightness is one of the main reasons. Maimuna moaned softly as I placed my hands on her wide hips and began fucking her in the ass. Man, while I fucked her ass, Maimuna kept undulating, and pressing her thick, round ass against my groin. I swear, the sight of her big ass swallowing my dick caused me to get harder. I fucked Maimuna slowly at first, but the way she moved and how she pressed her ass against me, I could tell that she liked what we were doing. When Maimuna urged me to fuck her harder, I thanked my lucky stars and began fucking her ass with gusto. Maimuna screamed like a madwoman as I fucked her in the ass and I loved it. Shoot, I did some screaming of my own because things got really intense in that washroom. The feel of Maimuna's asshole gripping my dick is one of those sensations I shall never forget. I fucked Maimuna until the lady told me that she couldn't take it anymore. I reluctantly but immediately pulled out of Maimuna's asshole. Guess what happened next? Maimuna squeezed out a loud, wet fart the moment my dick exited her asshole. Dude, I was not expecting that. Maimuna turned around and shot me a guilty look, and I just smiled and told her I found the whole thing funny. Shoot, to make my Somali goddess more comfortable, I farted too. We both laughed, and then turned the hot water back on and got cleaned up. What can I say? I definitely felt better thanks to my sweet Maimuna. I'm going back to work and I'll plot sweet revenge against the bigoted bozos that I work with. For now, I'm enjoying a wonderful weekend with my lady Maimuna. Life is good! Maimuna The Somali MILF Ch. 05 As salam alaikum, dear readers. My name is Maimuna Jibril and I'm a 36-year-old Somali Muslim immigrant woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Lately, my sinfully sexy lover Stefano Saint-Mathieu, the tall and burly young Haitian guy who stole my heart has been banging the hell out of me. Honestly, I can't get enough of his unique brand of lovemaking. Wallahi, I hadn't had sex in ages and Stefano definitely was what the doctor ordered. The other day, Stefano and I crossed the threshold into forbidden territory, seriously. We had anal sex. That's right, I, Maimuna Jibril of Somalia, let that young Haitian stud stick his long and thick, deliciously dark dick up my Somali derriere. Is there anything more haram than anal sex for a Muslim woman? I sincerely doubt it. And you know what? I honestly don't give a fuck. I got fucked in the ass by Stefano and I liked it. Ladies, you've got to try this stuff, for real. These days, my life is growing more exciting day by day. I got accepted at Algonquin College's Nursing program and I'm trying to save enough money to pay for my classes. I want to start in the summer of 2015, and I honestly am bubbling with excitement at the thought of being a student again. You see, in my homeland of Somalia, I was a Nurse. I want to go back to the work I feel I was born to do. Stefano encourages my dreams, and even helped me apply for government financial aid through OSAP...and I got it! Stefano and I get along wonderfully, and I can honestly say that I am falling in love with this gorgeous, smart and generous young Haitian man. Earlier, Stefano took me to the movies, and we watched The Hobbit at the Rainbow Cinema located inside the Saint Laurent Mall in the east end of Ottawa. As we took the escalators upstairs after the movie, Stefano took my hand and brought it to his lips. I smiled at Stefano, awed by his sweetness, and I proudly linked my arm with his. A lot of people walking around the Saint Laurent Mall stared at Stefano and I as we walked through the place together. It was the weekend, so the mall was pretty crowded. Stefano and I are from different ethnicities, different religions, and different backgrounds. Oh, and yes, I did not forget, Stefano and I are from different age groups. I'm thirty six years old and my sweet Stefano is twenty seven. Age is nothing but a number, as they say. Look, I know what the world sees when it looks at me. I'm almost six feet tall, voluptuous, with light brown skin and Afro-Arabian features that white Canadians and others consider to be exotic, whatever that means. I wear the Hijab and traditional long skirt that observant Muslim women wear, and I get stared at a lot wherever I go. I'm a Muslim woman with a capital T, and people judge me from the get go. What people don't realize or stupidly overlook is the fact that Muslim women like myself have the same emotional, sexual and romantic needs as other women. We're not another species, we're women from another faith, that's all. Of course, in Ottawa, people still gawk at me even though Hijab-wearing Muslim women are getting to be a common sight in the Canadian capital. The world is changing, but not everyone is willing to change with it. To me, I simply live my life without caring one bit what the racists and bigots think about me. For the first time since my husband Ali and my daughter Amina were slain during tribal warfare in my homeland of Somalia, I feel something other than grief and despair churning through my chest. When I'm with Stefano Saint-Mathieu, when he looks at me adoringly, I feel alive like never before. I feel loved and cared for. Stefano doesn't care that I'm almost a decade older than him, or that I'm from the Islamic faith. He respects my faith and culture and never once tried to change anything about me. Stefano accepts me for who I am while encouraging me to be all that I can be. I love him for it! Stefano Saint-Mathieu has unleashed a torrent of passion in me, and not just sexually or romantically. The Haitian brother makes me feel like I can do anything. I work as a cleaner at the same university campus that Stefano attends for his higher education, and I swear, being treated like I'm not human, it has taken its toll on me. Students, professors and university staff people all treat us cleaning crew folks as though we're something other than human. They need us to clean but don't want to see us. Bunch of creeps if you ask me. Stefano was the only one at the university campus to treat me like a human being, seriously. The young Haitian man looked at me with empathy rather than pity or sympathy in those lovely dark eyes of his when he came to my aid. Stefano could relate to my plight because he knows what it's like to have a lousy job and feel completely and utterly unappreciated and routinely disrespected by the people around you. That's part of what drew me to this big and tall, burly but friendly young Haitian stud. I'm a Somali woman and a proud Muslim, men of other faiths and ethnicities are supposed to be off-limits for me but I don't care. Honestly, no man has ever treated me like Stefano, and I most definitely want that young man in my life. Oh, and one other thing. I really like anal sex. Kind of an odd thing for a Hijab-wearing Muslim lady like myself to confess to, but whatever. Stefano was delighted when I told him how much I enjoy having his dick up my ass. That's why I decided to make it a regular part of our lovemaking. Stefano can't get enough of my thick Somali derriere, and I definitely welcome that sweet addiction. More fun for me. Stefano loves eating my ass, and I swear, sometimes, his requests actually stun the hell out of me. We make passionate love every chance we get, and my sweet Stefano is one kinky brother. Stefano told me to sit on his face one morning even before I took a shower. Look, a lady needs to clean her cunt and ass before inviting male company over to visit those sweet spots. Stefano didn't care, the dude licked my smelly cunt and sweaty asshole as if they were the sweetest things he'd ever tasted. Seriously, Stefano stuck his tongue up my asshole that morning before I even had a chance to go to the bathroom. The brother really, really likes my thick Somali derriere! How could I deny him some anal fun afterwards? Stefano greased me up with Aloe cream and worked his dick up my butt hole. I sighed happily as Stefano eased his manhood in my asshole and I began fingering my already wet cunt. I love the friction, it really gets me going! Stefano buried his dick so far up my ass that I swear, his manhood tickled parts I didn't even know I had. What fascinated me is that the deeper Stefano's dick went up my ass, the wetter my cunt got. It wasn't long before I came, and I barely touched my pussy. How awesome is that? Something amazing happened right then and there. I felt Stefano tremble, then the Haitian stud cried out. Seconds later, Stefano came, his manhood erupting inside of me, and I cried out as I felt my lover's hot cum flood my bowels. Nothing could have prepared me for the truly incredible sensations that it triggered within me. I felt like liquid fire was coursing through me, and it was intense and wicked, and I absolutely loved it! Afterwards, Stefano kissed me, then we went to the washroom and showered together. My boo and I cleaned each other up with soap and hot water, then returned to the bedroom. Stefano told me he still wanted some anal play, and when he told me what exactly he had in mind, I was surprised but okay with it ultimately. Stefano pointed to a bright blue dildo and smiled at me. I grinned and grabbed the bottle of lubricant. I bent Stefano over and told my favorite Haitian stud to spread his ass for me. I grinned as I pushed the blue dildo up Stefano's ass. This was quite an experience for me. Role reversal is fun and exciting. Typically, Stefano dominates in the bedroom because, duh, he's the man. Still, I must admit my pussy was tingling with excitement as I dominated Stefano. I spanked his butt while stuffing his hole with the dildo, and I made him scream my name. Much later, Stefano thanked me profusely for making one of his most secretive fantasies come true. I took my Haitian stud's face in my hands and kissed him. I love Stefano something fierce and I can honestly say that there's nothing I wouldn't do for him. We're happy together. The ultimate odd couple, even by Ottawa standards. A thirty-something, Hijab-wearing Somali Muslim lady and her twenty-something, burly Haitian boyfriend. Rocking and rolling in the Canadian capital. Now you've officially seen it all! Maimuna The Somali MILF Ch. 06 What's up, people? I smile to myself as I greet before this way, instead of saying As Salam Alaikum, the typical Muslim greeting. I blame my lover Stefano Saint-Mathieu for that. The tall, burly and roughly handsome Haitian has a certain effect on me, what can I say? The things I do for love, I guess. My name is Maimuna Jibril and I'm a tall, curvy and sexy, 36-year-old ( in a couple of months I will be 37 ) Somali Muslim immigrant woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Got another extremely hot story to share with you. The other day, Stefano and I went to the City of Gatineau, Quebec, and visited the Canadian Museum of Civilizations. Truth be told, I was nervous about going into the region of Quebec because French Canadians, unlike the rest of Canada, are quite outspoken in their hatred for visible minorities, especially Muslims. Now, don't get me wrong, white Canadians of all stripes hate minorities, and hide it behind their fake smiles but French Canadians are very open about it. I'm a Hijab-wearing and dark-skinned woman with a foreign accent, Quebec definitely isn't the place for me. Stefano told me that it was time to face my fears, and promised me that he'd protect me if things got dicey. I was still nervous but with Stefano's assurances, I decided to take a chance. Life's a risk, after all. Might as well live a little instead of playing it safe all the damn time. Don't you agree? Stefano was born on the island of Haiti and raised in provincial Ontario, Canada. The brother speaks English and French without any discernible accents. He's as Canadian as anyone. Me? I feel awkward at times. The French I learned from my cousins in the Republic of Djibouti is quite different from what Canadians speak. I speak Parisian French and it's completely and utterly different from Quebecer French, which is hard on my ears, to tell you the truth. Hand in hand, Stefano and I boarded the number eight OC Transpo bus at the Rideau Shopping Center and sat in the middle. The bus ride from downtown Ottawa to Gatineau didn't take long, and the Museum of Civilizations was right there on the border between the small town of Gatineau, Quebec, and the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I smiled to myself, and felt contentment and peace as Stefano took my hand and brought it to his lips. The Haitian stud is so romantic, quite unlike the Somali guys I grew up. As a Muslim woman, raised in Somalia, an Islamic country, I'm not used to romance. I'm not saying that we Muslims don't love, we're as human as anyone else. I'm just saying that in Islamic countries, the rules of behavior for men and women are strict, and prevent us from doing certain things. Marriages are arranged, and dating isn't something that we do. I was wedded to my long-dead husband Ali and produced a daughter, Amina, whom I loved, but I never felt romantic love for my husband although I cared about him. Romantic love isn't something that Muslim women living in predominantly Islamic countries dare think of as their daily reality. It's not that Muslim men are hard and unfeeling, it's just that they're brainwashed by all the strict rules of Islam. It's so sad, really. Islamic rules set up barriers between men and women, and prevent us from making true connections. That's just the way of things in Muslim countries, from Bangladesh to Somalia, from Saudi Arabia to Iran. Welcome to our world. Stefano loves me and makes me feel alive like never before. Small wonder I fell in love with him, even though Stefano is 27 years old, almost a decade younger than me, and a lapsed Christian, while I'm 36 years old and a practicing Muslim. Stefano calls me his Somali goddess, his chocolate MILF, and I find this Frat-type talk endearing rather than annoying or demeaning. The lad clearly cherishes me, and I thank my lucky stars that the two of us met. The OC Transpo bus crossed the bridge separating Quebec from Ontario, and I looked at the water underneath us. It was around noon, and the sun was high in the sky on this frosty day in late February. We got off at the Museum, and went there. Once we got there, Stefano took out his CIBC debit card and paid for our tickets, then we went inside. Proudly, I linked my arm with Stefano's as we walked around the museum. The exhibits were lovely, filled with everything from Aboriginal Canadian artworks to European artifacts, African sculptures and ancient Egyptian artifacts. I smiled to myself as I recognized a piece from Northeast Africa. I'm a Muslim woman, and Islam is the only religion I follow, though I have some basic respect for Christians and Jews. Still, I was quite familiar with the Animist beliefs that some people in the land of Ethiopia, particularly the Oromo people, still practice to this very day. Ethiopians are predominantly Orthodox Christians and we Somalis are predominantly Sunni Muslims so we don't get along but I know a lot about their culture. Plus, lots of Somalis live in Ethiopia. Long before the Abrahamic religions began spreading around the Middle East and the vastness of Africa, we Africans had our own faiths. Cool, I find that very interesting. I'm not changing my religion, though. Stefano Saint-Mathieu and I walked around the Museum of Civilizations, and just as I expected, most of the visitors were white, even though I saw a few Asians and Arabs here and there. I think Stefano and I were the only black visitors, even though I saw quite a few black security guards and black staff workers in uniform. I guess some things never change in Canada, no matter what part of it you're in. Still, I enjoyed the hell out of my visit, though. Exactly three hours later, Stefano and I left the Canadian Museum of Civilizations, and boarded the red and white OC Transpo bus going back to the City of Ottawa. We left Quebec behind, and once we got home, I took Stefano and thanked him properly for a wonderful afternoon. First, I fed him some of my delicious Lahooh with Suqaar and eggs, along with salty buttered rice, goat meat and we washed it all down with some cold Pepsis. Afterwards, Stefano and I went straight to the bedroom, for my Haitian stud was hungry for my Somali pussy after tasting my cuisine. I lay on the bed, clad in my bra, panties and Hijab, since I know this wickedly naughty combination of outfits turns Stefano on like crazy. The Haitian stud's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when I spread my thick, shapely thighs invitingly, exposing a very obvious target. I winked at Stefano, and the horny young man came to me. I took Stefano's handsome face in my hands and kissed him, then he began sucking on my tits while fondling them. Off came my bra, and Stefano pulled off my panties, then buried his face between my legs. I licked my lips as Stefano began munching on my pussy. As per his request, I hadn't washed my cunt when I showered this morning. Stefano tells me that he likes the natural scent of a woman's pussy. I found that weird, but I indulged my sexy Haitian lover. Also, Stefano is really into hairy pussies. Mine is pretty hairy and I once felt bad about that because Islamic culture requires women to shave off all body hair below the neck. Well, I threw away my razor because Stefano likes my hairy self. This young Haitian man accepts me with all of my flaws. How could I not love him? Stefano licked my pussy, teasing my clit with his tongue while his agile fingers wormed their way into my cunt. I cried out in pleasure, for I really, really liked what he was doing to me. My dead husband Ali never licked my pussy. In the isolated Somali village where I grew up, by some miracle I was spared the horror of excision, and my husband thought I was a freak. Most Somali women are circumcised, a barbaric practice which needs to end. I'm one in a million, a Somali woman who is "unmodified". Stefano finished licking my sweet, hairy pussy, and then turned me around. First, Stefano kissed my thick, round and juicy Somali derriere, and then he began licking my asshole after I spread my ass cheeks for him. Eating female ass, lots of men find that disgusting but Stefano turned me onto it. Now I can't get enough of it, and I absolutely love it when Stefano sticks his tongue into the forbidden depths of my asshole. I swear, I like having my ass licked more than my pussy. This delights my sweet Stefano since the Haitian stud is an ass man in every way! After giving my pussy and asshole a tongue bath, Stefano and I moved onto more fun stuff. Aloe cream got my ass lubricated nicely enough, and then I got on all fours. Stefano got behind me, and pressed his dick against my asshole. Slowly, carefully, Stefano pushed his dick into my ass. I love anal sex, I'm a Somali Muslim woman and I don't care who knows it. The feel of Stefano's dick in my asshole was deliciously painful, and I absolutely loved it. Stefano fucked my ass with gusto, and I rocked against him, grinding my big butt against his groin, until he came inside of me in an explosion of power and passion. Stefano and I lay in each other's arms after fucking, or lovemaking, whatever you want to call it. I do love these special moments, after banging, when we're just lying there and talking. I care for Stefano a lot, and I'm honestly falling in love with him, even though our passion for each other kind of scares me sometimes. Stefano wants to introduce me to his family, and I'm scared shitless about that prospect. Still, I'm done living cautiously. I want to be loved, and feel alive, and I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Wish me luck. Maimuna The Somali MILF Ch. 07 There is something to be said about Fate, seriously. That which you run from typically pursues you. Seems to be the way of the universe. My name is Stefano Saint-Mathieu, and I'm a young Haitian man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'm a student at one of the Canadian Capital's leading universities, and I also work as a security guard downtown. These days, life is finally exciting, thanks in large part to the lady in my life. My sweet Maimuna Jibril, the Somali MILF who changed my life. I can't get enough of her, man. For weeks now, I'd been hinting at Maimuna that I wanted her to meet some of my family members. It's what I do when I'm serious about a woman. I haven't done that too often because the chicks that I usually date don't stick around too long. However, this time it's different. Maimuna and I come from different worlds, but we've made a special connection. Let's face the facts, I'm 27 years old and almost done with my university studies, and it's high time I got serious about the rest of my life, and who I want in it. Maimuna Jibril, my Somali sweetheart, is 36 years old, and she told me what happened to her former husband Ali and their daughter Amina during the tribal conflicts that plagued Somalia years and years back. The poor woman lost her husband and daughter. Maimuna came to Ontario, Canada, to stay with her sister, and nowadays, she's on her own, working as a cleaner at my university campus while prepping for her upcoming studies in the Nursing program at Algonquin College. I admire Maimuna's fearlessness and determination, seriously. Still, I got the feeling that Maimuna wanted to delay meeting any members of my family. Now, I trust Maimuna and I care for her deeply. Shoot, I can honestly say that I'm falling in love with my sweet, tall and sinfully sexy Somali MILF. Nevertheless, this young Haitian brother definitely knows when a woman is being evasive. I don't know if it's because I'm from a Christian background and Maimuna is a practicing Muslim, but I got the feeling that she wasn't feeling the idea of meeting my people. Or perhaps Maimuna feels that it's too soon. Who knows what goes on in her brain? Women mystify me, as they do most men on this planet, and there's simply no way around that. Still, Fate had a little comeuppance in store for Maimuna Jibril and I. After a fun outing at the Canadian Museum of Civilizations in the City of Gatineau, Quebec, Maimuna and I spent the day making love and enjoying each other's company. At some point, we decided to go out for supper, and went to the Saint Laurent Shopping Center. There's a nice Chinese restaurant in the food court upstairs, and I've been going there for years. The food at that place is delicious and the service is actually decent. There's a nice old Asian gentleman who works there and he always gives me generous portions. I took Maimuna there, and although she was somewhat reluctant ( Maimuna is a Muslim and thinks all Chinese people eat pork ), I explained to the servers Maimuna's dietary restrictions and everything went smoothly. Maimuna and I sat at the center of the room, since it was packed that Wednesday evening, and enjoyed two delicious plates of fried rice with chicken wings, spring rolls, and two cans of Pepsi. We just sat there, enjoying our meals while basking in each other's company. Maimuna told me how excited she was about starting her Nursing courses in the summer at Algonquin College instead of waiting till September since her OSAP government loans got approved. I was happy for her, and told her as much. Yeah, Maimuna and I were there, having ourselves a nice time, when someone approached our table. Lo and behold, it was my sister Annabelle Saint-Mathieu and her boyfriend, a stocky Mexican dude named Carlos. I happily greeted Carlos and Annabelle, then invited the two of thm to join our table. My sweet Somali MILF Maimuna seemed a bit uncomfortable as I made the introductions. This was perfect, let me tell you. My sister Annabelle smiled and shook Maimuna's hand, and Maimuna nodded respectfully at Carlos but did not shake his hand. The Mexican dude seemed surprised, but I explained to Carlos the religious and cultural restrictions that Muslim women like Maimuna had to follow. Carlos smiled and nodded respectfully at Maimuna, and the four of us sat down and ate. I hadn't seen my sister Annabelle in a while since she got a job with the National Bank after graduating from the MBA program at the University of Ottawa. Me? I'm still trying to get my bachelor's degree from a certain university in the Canadian capital, and I'm close to getting it. Carlos works in construction, and I met him while surveying contractors on the construction site where he worked a year ago. We became friends, and I invited him to dinner at my parents house in Orleans one time. Carlos met my sister Annabelle there, and sparks flew between them. Carlos is a hard-working and God-fearing guy who respects women, and Annabelle is happy with him. That's all that matters if you ask me. My sister Annabelle and I caught up, and Maimuna seemed ill-at-ease with the whole thing while Carlos wisely concentrated on his food. After about half an hour, Carlos and Annabelle excused themselves. They were going to the movies and had to leave. I hugged my sister goodbye and shook hands with Carlos, while Maimuna waved them goodbye. Once more, my Somali goddess and I found ourselves alone. I looked pointedly at Maimuna, who pretended not to notice. Frustrating broad, eh? When I asked her if something was wrong, Maimuna smiled at me and ignored the question, focusing on her food. I shook my head, and dropped the subject for now. Afterwards, Maimuna and I walked around the Saint Laurent Mall. Maimuna went into Macy's and bought a few things, then we caught the bus back to my place. The whole evening weighed heavily on my mind, and I wanted to question Maimuna further on her behavior, but once we got home, the Somali MILF worked her magic on me... Look, once Maimuna Jibril gets naked and I feast my eyes on her tall, curvaceous, busty and big-bottomed, sinfully sexy Somali goddess body, I lost all train of coherent thought. Maimuna grinned at me, hands on her hips. I went to her, like the hungry and pussy-craving Haitian stud that I am. I knelt before Maimuna and licked her pussy, then we got busy. Even though we made love earlier, I was still horny. I lay on the bed and Maimuna sat on my face, smothering me with her thick Somali derriere. The Somali goddess had me right where she wanted me. I'm a Haitian brother, we're all vulnerable to the thick ass of a curvy female. It's like a genetic weakness in us Haitian men, we crave a big and round booty. Doesn't matter whom it's attached to. I licked Maimuna's pussy and fingered her asshole, then we got down to business. Maimuna grabbed my long and thick, uncircumcised Haitian dick and stroked it then sucked it good and proper. I moaned softly as Maimuna fingered my ass while sucking my dick. I looked at her and shook my head. The sight of Maimuna's Hijab-covered head bobbing up and down as she sucked me off drove me nuts. Shoot, this broad was something else. Maimuna worked her magic on me, and it didn't take me long to cum. When I finally came, Maimuna drained every last drop of my manly seed. Maimuna wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and winked at me. I smiled weakly, a happy man. Afterwards, Maimuna surprised me by getting in touch with her bossy side. Translation? The Somali MILF donned a strap-on dildo and bent me over, greased me up then fucked me with it. I got really turned on as Maimuna spanked my ass and fucked me with her strap-on dildo. Seriously, whoever thinks that Somali women, being Muslim and all, aren't dominant, most definitely hasn't met Maimuna. The bossy Somali gal made me beg for mercy after relentlessly pounding my ass, seriously. We lay side by side, positively glowing after some wicked kinky sex. Maimuna kissed me and rested her head against my chest, playing with my chest hairs. Without being prompted, Maimuna apologized for her behavior earlier, and told me that she was unprepared to meet my sister and her hubby. I took Maimuna's hands in mine and brought them to my lips, and assured her that everything would be fine. At least, that's what I hoped. I love Maimuna something fierce. Shoot, I'd be willing to embrace Islam to marry her just so Maimuna and I can be together. Still, I do need her to come around on certain things. Wish us luck. Peace.