Somali Women: Magically Delicious

Once you get a taste of Somali Muslim women, life is never going to be the same. That's what I'm finding out, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Raphael Jean Bouvier and I'm a young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. In the summer of 2014, I graduated with honors from Algonquin College with a degree in police foundations, and my application to the Ontario Police College has been summarily rejected. After drowning my sorrows in stale beer at the Honest Lawyer Bar downtown, I decided that I'd continue with my education.

That's why I applied to Carleton University's criminology program and I actually got in. The way I see it, maybe I'd improve my chances at being a cop with a higher degree, you know? The field of law enforcement is an old boys club. Lots of people get in before they're the sons and daughters of former officers, and whatnot. As a young brother and the son of Haitian immigrants, I know that I face an uphill climb. I won't let them deter me, though. I'll get my criminology degree from Carleton and if the cops won't hire me, I'll just go to law school or something. Word up.

Carleton University campus is something else, folks. Big and diverse, with lots of African, Indian and Chinese students, adding diversity to the white crowds. I felt at home immediately. Something about the campus appealed to me and it's not the student body's diversity or the cutting-edge campus. It's the presence of so many cute girls wearing hijab. I've got a thing for them, you see. Every man has a thing for the forbidden fruit and for me, it doesn't get more forbidden than them Somali girls I see walking around Ottawa with their hijabs and long skirts. I want to fuck one so bad it's not even funny.

The lovely Halima Khan caught my eye the first time I saw her at school. I was heading to the campus library to print something and I saw this marvelous heart-shaped derriere bending over the library steps. The derriere in question belonged to a six-foot-tall, curvaceous and sinfully sexy, golden brown-skinned and dark-eyed Somali sister in a long skirt and hijab who bent down to tie her sneakers. Man, it was love at first sight and I hadn't even seen the lady's face. Truth be told, I'd fallen in love with her absolutely mesmerizing ass. I wanted some of that and I wouldn't let anything deter me.

The question is, how do I approach such a lady? Muslim women are a notoriously unapproachable lot, especially for men of other faiths. I was raised Catholic by my parents, Jeannette and Joseph Bouvier. I decided to use the "new guy" routine, you know? After all, I am new to Carleton and if I'm lost or have lots of questions, it's normal for me to ask someone, right?

Yup, sounds like a plan to me. So I followed suit with my improvisatory game plan. Somali cutie here I come, keep that heart-shaped ass in shape because I'm coming for it. I discretely followed her up to the third floor and then greeted her in French, asking her where I might find the printer. Like the oh so friendly Somali sister that she is, Halima Khan smiled at me and offered to show me the printing machine. I thanked her and acted befuddled in front of it, and the lady kindly showed me how it worked. That's how we met, ladies and gentlemen.

The best way to get at a Muslim woman, especially the conservatively dressed and 'visibly' pious type is to show interest in her religion. Halima and I became acquainted that day at the library, and I told her about myself, my Haitian background, and my dream of one day becoming a police officer. The lady was surprisingly open-minded, and told me that she was a newcomer from the town of Galafi, somewhere in the Republic of Djibouti.

I found that completely and utterly fascinating, especially since I had no idea such a place existed. Halima Khan regaled me with stories of her homeland, and I could tell that she was homesick. The lady was overjoyed to run into a fellow Francophone at Carleton University. Apparently, Halima applied to the University of Ottawa and didn't get in, so she came to Carleton. I grinned at her when she said that. Why doesn't that surprise me?

Yup, for a lot of people in Canada's Capital region, Carleton is also known as last chance university. Halima Khan definitely chose well. I smiled at her and told Halima that I was happy she chose Carleton University over the University of Ottawa. Grinning, Halima nodded gracefully. When I asked her if she wanted to be friends on Facebook, Halima was all smiles. Am I good or what? You've got to worm your way in with these religious women, folks. And you have to be patient. You just can't rush these things and you've got to feel your way through. It's not a science, ladies and gentlemen. It's an art.

Halima Khan and I became friends, and soon began hanging out. On campus at first, and then, slowly but surely, once she got comfortable with me, I managed to convince her to hang with me off-campus. Halima and I went to the Silver City movie theater and watched The Equalizer, the new Denzel Washington movie. It turns out the lovely Halima is a major fan of Denzel, like most black women I know. We had a good time, and after that, I took her to the Blair shopping center's food court for pizzas and drinks. We sat down, talked, ate, and got to know each other a bit better.

There are stereotypes affiliated with every race, culture and group, and as a big and tall young black man in Canada, I know this better than anyone. Halima Khan definitely defied my expectations. I thought of Somali women, being Muslim and all, as repressed when it comes to sexual matters. Well, that wasn't the case with her. Not at all. You see, as we grabbed a bite and chatted, Halima pulled out a small notebook and showed me some of her erotica. That's right, this hijab-wearing Muslim chick from Djibouti likes to write erotic fiction. I read her sexy story, the tale of a Muslim chick with a thing for well-hung men of other faiths, and I actually got turned on.

When I finished reading the erotic story, I looked at Halima, stunned. Grinning, Halima winked at me. I smiled and nodded. We're going to get along just fine, I thought. And just like that, Halima and I left the mall. As we made our way to the bus station nearby, the lady did something surprising. Halima linked her arm with mine. I looked at her, a bit surprised, since most Muslim women are the touch-me-not type, and smiled. Halima returned my smile, and I winked at her. And just like that, we made our way to the bus.

Thus began a life-changing, surprising, yet fun and passionate relationship. Halima Khan and I began dating shortly after. And honestly? I've never been happier. I am a young Haitian-Canadian man and a Christian, and my girlfriend Halima Khan is a Somali Muslim woman born and raised in Djibouti, and even though the laws of her faith state that she shouldn't associate with the likes of me, we're happy together. Who cares what people say or think of your relationship or way of life? Just do you. That's my new motto. Peace.