A Somali Canadian Prince in Love

According to the most sacred rules of Islam, the man is supposed to be the head of the household and the woman is supposed to be submissive to him. Well, that's not how it plays out in real life. Sometimes, the woman in the relationship is stronger than the man, and it is my belief that if she is worthy of the mantle of leadership, then she should be the leader. Muslims the world over will disagree with me for saying this, but I don't give a damn. This is what I believe.

The name is Omar Abdullahi and I'm a Somali brother living in the City of Calgary, Alberta. A year ago, I met my first love ( and biggest heartache ) while living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. First, though, a little about me. I was born in the City of Red Deer, Alberta, to a Somali immigrant father and white Canadian mother. My father Yousef Abdullahi returned to his hometown of Mogadishu, Somalia, when I was only a few months old, so I never really knew him. He never came back to Canada either. To this day we don't know what happened to him. I was raised by my mother, Odessa Winthrop, and her family, especially her older brother, my uncle Bob. I love them both dearly.

As you can imagine, I was pretty white-washed. I grew up to be a six-foot-one, lean and athletic brother with light brown skin, curly black hair and pale green eyes. It wasn't easy for my mother and I in the City of Red Deer, one of the most bigoted places in all of Canada. The locals aren't fond of foreigners, especially Muslims, and they don't hide it. Even though my mother is an atheist, I had a Muslim-sounding name, so I caught flak for it at school. I couldn't wait to leave Alberta, man. I yearned to get the fuck out of redneck country and move someplace more diverse, like Ontario. That's how I ended up in metropolitan Ottawa.

I enrolled at the University of Ottawa, and got myself a small apartment near campus. I was fascinated by the G.T.A. to be honest with you. The place was so vibrant and racially diverse. I saw lots of girls wearing hijab. Arab girls, Somali girls and Turkish girls. We don't really have a lot of visible minorities in provincial Alberta. For the most part, white Canadians and the Aboriginal peoples form the dominant demographics in that region of Canada. Things are changing across the vastness of Alberta, but very slowly. A Muslim guy got elected Mayor of Calgary, and some people are still up in arms about that. In Alberta, they tend to fear those who don't look like them.

In the City of Ottawa, I saw lots of people who looked like me, and people whose ethnicities I could only guess at. Moreover, at U of T, I ran into my fellow Somalis. I mean, they were everywhere on the university campus, damn. How I felt about the Somali presence on the University of Ottawa campus, now that's a complicated question. On the one hand, I felt happy to be around my father's people. On the other hand, I didn't speak the guttural Somali language, and I didn't identify as Muslim.

To be honest, I was raised in a secular household. My mother was raised Catholic but she'd stopped going to church long before she met my father. I'd visited churches, synagogues and mosques while in Alberta. To me, the concept of organized religion is both funny and dangerous. Nothing wrong with belief in a higher power, but once people surrender their will to that of a leader who claims to speak for the higher power in question, you've got a recipe for disaster. That's what I believed, until I met the lovely and headstrong Nabiha Hanaffi.

At the time Nabiha and I met, I'd been living in the City of Ottawa for a couple of months, going to class and also working as a security guard on weekends to pay the bills. It's not easy working as a security guard in Ottawa, man. There's a lot of creeps in this place and some of them are actually armed. You've got to be really careful. I was working in this office building, doing overnight shifts, and I was required to patrol this empty building on the evenings. One night, I came out of the elevator and into the sixth floor lobby. That's when I noticed a thick, fantastic-looking ass bent over. The ass in question belonged to a tall and fine-looking Somali sister in a long skirt, long-sleeved shirt and hijab. The gal was tying her shoe. Catching me doing the booty gawking thing, she glared at me and asked me what I was doing there.

Hello ma'am I am Omar, I blurted out, mesmerized by the woman's sheer presence. Tall, dark-skinned and curvy, she looked majestic in her dark blue skirt, light blue shirt and dark blue hijab. Good to meet you Omar I am called Nabiha, the woman said in a clipped Somali accent. I smiled at her and told her I was new to the building. The woman returned my smile, and wished me a warm welcome to the building. I nodded and thanked her. Before she disappeared down a corridor, Nabiha looked at me coyly, and told me to stop looking at her ass. Man, I turned beet red when she said those words to me. In spite of myself, I couldn't take my eyes off that ass of hers practically sashaying from side to side as she walked into a room and disappeared from view. What a woman, I thought wistfully.

Thus began my fascination with Nabiha Hanaffi, the strange, beautiful older Somali woman I saw in the office building that night. When my relief came the next morning, I asked the site supervisor about her. The old Jamaican man smiled and told me that Nabiha was a cleaner. Oh, was all I could say. The following night, I looked for her throughout the building and finally found her in the basement. Hello again, Nabiha said coyly. I smiled at her, and pretended to be just on a routine patrol. Apparently she bought it, for she relaxed and we made small talk.

I learned quite a bit from Nabiha that night. The Somali gal was new to Ontario, indeed, she'd only been in Canada for about three years. Oh, and she was taking classes at Algonquin College. Good for her. I work hard for what I want, Nabiha said. I nodded at that, and told her a bit about me. Basically I gave her the rundown about my parents, my old life in Alberta and why I had to leave, my studies at University of Ottawa and my new life in this great town. Good to see a Somali brother who has ambition, Nabiha said, admiration in her tone. I nodded gracefully. Thank you sister, I said with a grin.

Nabiha and I became friends of a sort that night, exchanging numbers and also adding each other on Facebook. Her profile was surprisingly filled with pictures. Shots of her at the airport in Sana'a, Yemen, with her aunt Maryam and her uncle Mohammed, circa 2009. Nabiha as a young woman attending a Somali wedding in Montreal in 2010. Cool stuff. The more I learned about her, the more I wanted to know. I kind of did a double take when I saw how old she was. I was born on January 31, 1990. I thought Nabiha was a couple of years older than me. Imagine my surprise when I found out she was born on November 8, 1986. What the fuck?

Nabiha and I became pals, and soon began seeing each other outside of work. I took her to the movies and local restaurants, in an attempt at getting to know her better. Fortunately for me, this gorgeous Somali gal proved to be far more open-minded and flexible than I initially gave her credit for. I thought Nabiha was going to be uptight, conservative and boring just like most of the hijab-wearing Somali girls I met in Ottawa. I mean, most of them wouldn't even shake my hand. They're so uptight about the rules of Islam, and yet they're surprised that Muslim brothers from their own communities prefer dating women from other religions and backgrounds. At the end of the day, regardless of race or religion, a man is a man, and we like flexible women.

Nabiha is one Somali sister who actually understood that. Even though she wears the hijab and everything, this gal knew how to get down. I took her dancing one night, at this club called El Rancho. You should have seen the way the predominantly Hispanic clientele of that club stared at us, a tall brother in a suit dancing with a Somali Hijabi. How about that? Nabiha and I did the bump and grind on the dance floor for hours, and we also did shots at the bar. Yup, Nabiha likes her liquor. Hmmm. A hot chick in a hijab who likes to get down and dirty. My kind of woman.

At the end of that memorable night, Nabiha and I kind of, sort of, um, slept together. I swear I wasn't planning on it. We took a cab to her place, and I asked to come up because I had to use the john. Seriously, I had to piss like a motherfucker. I'd been holding it in since we got into the cab and left the club. I swear, I had no ulterior motives when I went to Nabiha's place. I stood there, in Nabiha's bathroom, taking a leak. I heard the door creak behind me, and turned around. Lo and behold, there stood Nabiha in her evening glory, or most of it anyway. Gone was her skirt, and she looked absolutely stunning in her red bra and matching panties. Oh, and she still had on her hijab. Man, she looked beyond hot. Hello stranger, Nabiha said coyly, licking her lips.

Hey mama, I smiled at her, a bit nervous. Before I knew what was happening, or even said anything, Nabiha grabbed my dick and stroked it. Good size, she said, smiling seductively. I nodded, and next thing I knew, the sexy Somali sister got on her knees and started sucking my dick. I leaned against the bathroom wall with my eyes closed. The only sounds that could be heard were the slurps Nabiha made as she sucked my dick like a lollipop. Man, I couldn't believe it. While sucking my dick, Nabiha fondled my nuts, and drove me absolutely wild. It didn't take my hardened dick long to cum, and when I did, I reflexively apologized to Nabiha because a lot of females don't like it when you nut on them. Nabiha proved to be different from the others, not only did she welcome my cum on her face, she actually sucked every last drop of my cum. How about that?

I looked at this gorgeous Somali sister as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Hot damn I wanted her. Nabiha smiled naughtily at me, and asked me if I wanted to continue with our fun. What do you think I said? Into her bedroom we went. I laid her on the bed, and spread those shapely thighs of hers. As I did so, Nabiha hesitated and warned me that she was different. I know, I said reassuringly. I had done my homework on Somali culture and knew what to expect. If there's one thing I hate about Somali culture, it's that they still practice excision on their daughters. That's a barbaric practice that needs to end.

Looking into Nabiha's eyes, I told her she was beautiful. Then I pulled down her panties, and began licking that sweet pussy like there was no tomorrow. The smell and taste of her womanhood drew me in. Growing up in Red Deer, I was often the only black person wherever I went, and I dreamed of one day making love to a sexy black woman. I'd fucked a lot of girls back in Alberta, but they were white or Aboriginal for the most part. At last I got to sample some sweet black pussy, and it tasted oh so good.

Nabiha moaned and writhed as I slid my tongue into her cunt, and cried out my name. grabbing the back of my head, she urged me to lick her harder. Well, I did that and more. Thrusting my fingers into her cunt, I teased her with my tongue. Nabiha's eyes widened, and she squirmed as I tortured her in the most pleasurable way possible. Finally, I watched, amazed, as my sweet Somali goddess experienced an orgasm. That hot, wet cunt of hers oozed hot girly cum, and sprayed it all over my face. Happily I lapped it all up, as if it were the nectar of the gods, as the poets of the old days would say. Nabiha looked at me, her eyes misty, a strange look on her face. I got it like that, I smirked confidently.

Next, I rolled a condom on my dick, and Nabiha rolled on top of me. I kissed her full and deep, and caressed her sexy and curvy, decidedly supple body. Nabiha took my hands and put them on her ass. Fuck me, she whispered into my ear. I gave Nabiha's ass a firm slap, and she giggled happily as she straddled me. Grabbing my dick, she took it and inserted it into her cunt. Even through the condom I could feel how warm and tight her pussy felt. Putting my hands on her wide hips, I thrust into her. Wrapping her arms around me, Nabiha held tightly onto me as I fucked her hard, slamming my dick into her.

For hours on end we went at it Nabiha and I, fucking over every inch of her bedroom. At some point we ended up on the carpeted floor where I took her face down and ass up. Hot damn, the feel of Nabiha's thick, soft derriere pressing against my groin as I thrust my dick into her pussy, it drove me absolutely nuts. For years I've dreamed of smashing a sexy Somali sister's booty, and thanks to Nabiha my fantasy was coming true. Nabiha's passionate screams turned me on like you would not believe. This chick was freaky, man. Nabiha told me to give it to her roughly and I did just that. I pulled her hair and spanked her big ass while slamming my dick into her cunt. It felt oh so good, to be with a chick who liked my aggressive side.

Nabiha and I went at it for hours, and finally we lay exhausted on the carpeted floor, spent. Nabiha rested her head against my chest. Thanks for that, she said breathlessly. I smiled and kissed her forehead. You rock my sista, I said, and meant it. Then I kissed her on the lips. We fell asleep like this. I don't know what I expected of Nabiha, but there was none of the awkwardness one expects of the morning after. My sweetie and I woke up, had breakfast, and then agreed to continue with our friendship as if nothing had happened. A promise neither of us kept, by the way.

My relationship with Nabiha was delighting me, man. When I first came to Ottawa, I liked the place because it was bigger and more racially diverse than Red Deer, Alberta, could ever be. However, as a young man alone in a town I didn't know, loneliness proved to be my constant companion. Well, now things had changed. With Nabiha by my side I felt like I could do anything. Even though it's for easier for a minority to navigate than Red Deer, Ottawa does have its share of bigots. A lot of the people I run into at work look down on me because I'm black and work as a security guard. What they don't know is that I'm a business student at the University of Ottawa. Also, you can't judge someone's worth by the color of their skin or their occupation. You have to get to know them as a person. Can't tell that to the bigots of the capital, though.

I mean, look at Nabiha and me. I'm lucky enough to have been born in Canada but she's not even from around here. One night, as we lay in bed together, my sweetie revealed to me that she came to Canada as a refugee claimant. Her entire family got exterminated during the inter-clan wars of Somalia. The Canadian authorities temporarily allowed her into the country but her case was still pending with Citizenship and Immigration Canada. In spite of these tough circumstances, Nabiha refused to let anything stop her. I'm in school and I'm working so thank Allah for His blessings, Nabiha said, shrugging. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. You're the strongest person I know, I said, and I meant every word.

This woman is changing my life, slowly but surely. Three months after we met, we decided to move in together. Kind of fast, eh? I know. The thing is that when it feels right, you should trust your instincts and just go with it. Nabiha and I moved into a three-bedroom apartment in the Vanier sector of Ottawa. Rent is four hundred a month per person, plus utilities. With what I make as a security guard, we can barely afford it. Here's a funny one for you. I make twelve dollars and twenty five cents an hour working as a rent-a-cop and my girlfriend Nabiha makes fourteen an hour working as a cleaner. Don't dismiss someone because of their job. The toughest, most demanding jobs have to get done. Don't disrespect the people who clean your house and guard you while you sleep. We're not the sort you ever want to see get pissed.

My lady is strong and sexy, and I love that about her. Nabiha even introduced me to brand new pathways to pleasure. Well, new to me anyways. I've always considered myself a strong, masculine black man. As one of a few minorities in a racist place like Red Deer, Alberta, I had to. For someone like me, showing my vulnerable side doesn't come easy. Nabiha showed me that I could trust her enough to lay down my armor, and enjoy other things. One night, Nabiha revealed something else to me. Apparently, my outwardly pious, prim and proper, hijab-wearing Somali girlfriend is even kinkier than I thought. Nabiha has been dabbling into the realm of BDSM, and considers herself a fledgling dominatrix. Smiling wickedly, Nabiha told me that she liked to fuck guys in the ass with her strap-on dildo. I found that quite sexy and a tad bit scary, to tell you the truth.

Before I agreed to what she wanted, I had some conditions for Nabiha. After all, it's my ass that's on the line. Literally. Nabiha told me that she'd been fantasizing about fucking me with her strap-on since we started going out together. You got a cute ass, Nabiha said, her eyes lighting up. Um thanks, I said, with more than a bit of nervousness. I told Nabiha what I wanted from her. Just call it the gentleman's style of booty bargaining, so to speak.

Trust me sweetie, Nabiha said seductively, batting her big brown eyes at me. Alright, I said hesitantly as she put me on my back, and told me to spread my ass cheeks for her. Excusing herself, she went to the bedroom to get what she needed. We'd just come out of the shower, and had some hot, rough sex in the washroom. I bent her over the counter and slammed my dick into her cunt. Nabiha wrapped her arms around me and told me to fuck her harder. We fucked for like an hour, then came out the shower. And then she decided to fuck me up the ass with her strap-on dildo. Yup, it's been that kind of day.

Nabiha rolled a condom on her dildo and applied lubricant all over my anus. Then she paused and asked me if I was alright. Man, is a dude ever ready to get fucked up his ass by his woman? I don't think so. We didn't cover that one in the Man Handbook. Nabiha smacked my ass, and then pressed her dildo against my anus. Grabbing me by the hips, Nabiha pushed the dildo into my asshole. Hmmm. I winced as the first inch went into me. Lying on my back, with my legs in the air and my semi-hard dick in my hands, and my lady's dildo up my ass, I felt strange.

I looked up at Nabiha, and saw a fierce light in her eyes as she dominated the hell out of me. Man, she looked simply magnificent. Even though she says it goes against the rules of Islam, I love watching her in full Islamic gear as we go about sexing each other up. I was born and raised in Canada's western-style culture. I've been watching porn since high school. Naked girls are hot, but I've seen so many, online and off, you know? To me, Nabiha is sexy and exotic...with her hijab, long skirt and other assorted Islamic gear. That's why I made Nabiha wear her hijab, along with a bra and panties, as she fucked the hell out of me with the strap-on dildo. I think she looks hot. Maybe Muslim guys would disagree, on religious or cultural grounds, but I'm not like them. Yes, my father is a Muslim man from Somalia, but I grew up in Canada. Raised in a secular household. I can do what I want in my bedroom without fear, shame or guilt. Thank you very much.

Nabiha really gave it to me, man. My usually patient, kind and sensitive Somali girlfriend turned into a real fury that night. Grabbing my dick, she pumped her dildo into my ass while berating me in every language she knew, including Somali and French. I only speak English, so I didn't understand everything, but the ferocity in her eyes and the ire in her tone carried the message across clearly enough. I found myself screaming loudly, without caring who heard me, as Nabiha's fingernails dug into the tender flesh of my cock and balls. At the same time, her dildo filled my ass so completely that I felt like I was being split in half. I howled like a man. It hurt like a motherfucker but I totally loved it!