admin

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 isveçbahis 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, isveçbahis giriş 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 isveçbahis yeni giriş 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!