Somali Hijabi Cleaning Ladies

Man, I know I'm going to Hell for this, I thought as I worked my dick up Fatima Jawari's deliciously tight cunt. The nineteen-year-old Somali Hijabi winced and looked up at me with innocent, doe-like golden brown eyes. Whispering gently, I asked her how she felt and Fatima assured me that she was alright. Good, I thought, and raised her shapely legs in the air as I worked my thick cock into her snatch. Nothing like nubile pussy, folks. It's addictive.

In case you're wondering who this is, the name is Marc Aurel, and I'm a Haitian-Canadian gentleman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I hold a Master's degree in Business with a concentration in Finance from the Sprott School of Business at Carleton University. I've long been a workaholic and a womanizer, and my dimwitted Quebecer ex-wife Deirdre Villeneuve left me and took our sons Elijah and Mathieu to Montreal with her. I visit them three times a month. Life isn't easy for me, as you can imagine.

I work as an auditor for the Canada Revenue Agency and after my divorce, I started spending a lot of nights at work. I became familiar with the night shift workers at my office building downtown, and I've got a thing for the Somali cleaning ladies who work in the building at night. Fatima Jawari, a lovely gal who studies at La Cite Collegiale during the day and works at night, simply happens to be my latest conquest.

Slow down, Fatima whispered, and I heeded her words as I continued fucking her. I had the sexy Somali gal lying on a thick wooden desk inside a storage room in the basement of the office building. In this secluded area, accessible only to security personnel and cleaning crew, Fatima and I had all the privacy we needed as we did our thing. About time, folks, seriously. I've been craving to get with Fatima for a while. At last, tonight, I finally got my chance.

From the first time I saw Fatima Jawari, I knew I wanted her. Standing six feet tall, slim yet curvy, with golden brown skin, dark brown eyes and long black hair that she always tucks away under her Hijabs, Fatima was simply irresistible. The funny thing? This Somali chick didn't even seem to know how unbelievably hot she was. I wanted some of her Somali sugar, and became determined to have it.

Now, when you're dealing with Somali women and you're not Muslim, things can get pretty tricky. You see, Muslim women are forbidden from having relations with men from other religions. It's in their holy book. Sounds unfair if you ask me, especially since the same holy book claims it's okay for Muslim men to marry women of any faith. Double standard much? You bet! You might be wondering how a thirty-nine-year-old brother like myself got within sniffing distance of Fatima Jawari's sweet Somali pussy. Stay tuned, folks.

Every man's loss is another man's gain, remember that, folks. Fatima Jawari and I were acquainted at work and I flirted with her, but the shy gal never truly responded. One day, Fatima came to work with tears on her lovely face. Feigning concern while sensing opportunity, I approached her and asked her what was wrong. Fatima haltingly told me that her Somali boyfriend, Bilal something or other, left her for a white chick.

Now, if you know anything about black women, whether Muslim or Christian, you know that the absolute worst thing a brother can do to them is leave them for a white woman. Fatima Jawari was distraught, because, well, she had every reason to be. I comforted her and assured her that she was beautiful. Bilal is a fool for leaving a Somali goddess like you for some white chick, I said, and gave her a hug. Fatima hugged me fiercely, and held onto me a moment too long. I smiled at her and told her I'd pray for her, then excused myself. I have to patrol the building, I said to her, somewhat apologetically.

Over the next few nights at work, I was extra nice to Fatima, even going so far as to order her some food from the Shawarma King restaurant on Rideau Street, and sitting her down to inquire about her well-being. Fatima was in better spirits afterwards, and told me that she was thankful for my help. I looked at her and told her that a good Haitian brother like me would be remiss if I didn't help out a sister in need.

Feigning altruism and kindness isn't easy, but a slick and experienced dude like myself can pull off the sincere look. It just takes some work, that's all. With females, man, the thing to remember is that you have to tell them what they want to hear. No ifs, ands or buts about it. Only then will they give you what you truly want, the P-U-S-S-Y. That's my standard operating procedure when dealing with the female of the species. In my lifetime, I've fucked quite a few of them. Black, White, Chinese, Arab, and some ethnicities I've forgotten about. The same rules apply.

Fatima Jawari was hooked on my mixture of charm, slickness and kindness. Now all I had to do was reel her in. When a woman's been cheated on, and left for a woman of another race, she needs a man who validates her beauty. I was determined to be that man for Fatima Jawari. I set out to seduce her, and our nightly conversations turned into heated flirtations, which led to kissing, fondling and heavy petting. We were getting there, just not fast enough in my book. Still, I knew I had to be patient. Females cannot be accurately predicted, man. That's just a fact of life. My patience with Fatima Jawari was destined to pay off, ultimately. That much I knew. For in time, the sinfully sexy yet sweetly innocent Somali Hijabi offered herself to me.

Ladies and gentlemen, I finally had my delicious plate of Somali pussy in front of me and it was a meal I was determined to savor. Before sticking my thick Haitian cock into Fatima Jawari's tight Somali cunt, I kissed her passionately and caressed those small, firm breasts of hers. As Fatima sighed happily, I spread her shapely thighs and gave her pussy a good licking. I had to take my time, and really work at it because, well, Fatima was different down there. Damn Somalis, they need to stop doing that barbaric "modification" shit to their women.

Fatima Jawari was a bit nervous but before licking her pussy, I assured her that she had absolutely nothing to fear. Then I buried my face between her legs, and licked her sweet pussy like a hungry man. Soon I had Fatima squealing in delight, just like I knew I would. Once I had Fatima's engine revved up, the Somali sister practically begged me for the D. Who am I to say no to such a cutie? I put Fatima on her back, got her legs in the air and then shoved my dick in her cunt.

The first thing I noticed upon sliding my hard dick into Fatima's cunt was how tight her pussy was. Damn. It has been a while since I fucked a gal who's under twenty. I fuck them all, ranging from eighteen to sixty. I banged a forty-year-old Saudi housewife named Afaf Mahmoud in Barrhaven, Ontario, last month. Before that, I fucked a plump Chinese chick named Vienna Chang up her ass at her dorm at Humber College in Toronto. My nine inches of thick, uncircumcised Haitian granite don't discriminate.

Fatima Jawari proved to be a real screamer as I filled her cunt with my dick. Time to show little miss Somalia what us brothers in the Caribbean are working with. I swear, a lot of them Muslim broads are repressed, and it's only while living in the West that some of them are starting to freely explore their sexuality. I was happy to help Fatima explore, and after plowing her cunt for a good while and making her cum twice, I pulled out of her and shot my nut all over her pretty face. Sorry, but shooting my cum over a Hijabi's face ( while she has the Hijab on ) has been a fantasy of mine for years. Fatima shot me a look and I shrugged, telling her that it was an accident. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her, then asked her how she felt.

The lovely and cum-soaked Somali cutie Fatima Jawari was all smiles, telling me that she felt absolutely wonderful. Glad I satisfied the lady, folks. With them females, if you don't fuck them right, they won't return to your bed and they'll damage your rep among others of their kind. Sad but true. A lot of fellas haven't learned that lesson. Me? I always leave them pleasurably sore and smiling. It's a Haitian stud's trademark. Fatima smiled at me and asked me when she might see me again. Tomorrow night and don't wear panties this time, I whispered into her ear. Fatima's smile was all the assurance I needed.