Somali Queen in Ottawa

Look, um, I have a confession to make. It's sort of, well, a tad bit on the embarrassing side. Here goes nothing. My name is Steve Salomon and I'm a big and tall Haitian brother living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I study business management at Carleton University, and I'm madly in love with this tall, sinfully sexy Somali-Canadian Muslim vixen named Yasmin Hussein. No, that's not the embarrassing part of my confession. You see, I'm turned on by female flatulence. I have Eproctophilia, also known as the dreadful and giggle-inducing ( when mentioned aloud ) farting fetish.

I discovered this about myself recently while fucking my girlfriend Yasmin in the ass during an impromptu anal sex session in the washroom. I am fucked up, I know. Yasmin and I were fucking, and I had my dick so far up her tight asshole, you couldn't tell where my Somali goddess ended and I began. We started doing it, and while I was drilling her asshole, the bitch farted. Right there on my dick. I kid you not, I felt a sudden puff of her on my dick, coming straight from Yasmin's anus. How do you like them apples?

My lady Yasmin Hussein and I might come from different worlds, but we're well-matched in just about every way. I was raised Catholic and my sweetheart was raised Muslim, but we don't let religious and cultural differences get in our way. I believe that Christians, Muslims and Jews worship the same Supreme Being, just in different ways. Why do people keep making a fuss over these differences? I guess I'll never know. Wherever we go, Yasmin Hussein and I attract a lot of stares. More than our fair share, I'd say. Honestly, I'd like to think it's because we're both tall, attractive and smart. I doubt it, though. Consider what happened the other day.

Yasmin Hussein and I went to our favorite restaurant after the movies the other day, Shawarma King, and we were chilling there while eating some delicious rice, potatoes and Kafta sandwiches when a pair of Somali guys walking in gave us the evil eye. I am a Haitian man and clearly not Somali, that much anyone looking at me can see. And the silver crucifix hanging around my neck attracted the Somali guys eyes like magnets to metal. Yasmin happened to be wearing a long-sleeved blue T-shirt, black dress and a modest blue hijab, articles of clothing which identified my sweetie as Muslim with a capital M. Yeah, the Somali guys weren't happy to see me with her.

Yasmin Hussein exchanged a look with them, and they muttered something among themselves in the Somali language. The fellas did not look happy. Yasmin and I ignored them and continued to enjoy our meal. The two guys left the place after their order came up, and one of them looked at me with anger and disgust on his face. Can you say player hater? I asked Yasmin what they said and she just smiled and told me that they were hating. Yasmin and I have been through this before. According to the rules of Islam, Muslim men are permitted to marry women of any religion, especially Christian women and Jewish women.

Those same arcane rules state that Muslim women aren't permitted to be with men of other religions. Only a Muslim man may be with a Muslim woman. To hell with that rule, Yasmin said, and we exchanged a passionate kiss. I love my sweetie. Yasmin has a mind of her own and makes her own decisions when it comes to sex and love. I'm happy that she's with me. The other half a billion or so Muslim women out there are nothing like her. Most of them are good little Muslim ladies, peacefully and quietly waiting for Muslim guys to make up their minds and ask for their hands into marriage....AFTER having their fun with women of all shades and faiths, of course. Nice rule, isn't it? A more glaring double standard isn't to be found anywhere else, I swear.

After the restaurant, Yasmin Hussein and I decided to walk around town for a little bit. We crossed the bridge separating downtown Ottawa from Vanier, and made our way to this nice little wooded area not far from the bridge. It was dark, and Yasmin and I sat on a bench, talking and enjoying each other's company. While I was telling her about the expansion of the Sprott School of Business at Carleton University, Yasmin nodded sagely....and then, without warning, my tall, gorgeous Somali Hijabi girlfriend shifted on her seat and squeezed out a loud wet fart. I looked at Yasmin, shocked. Yasmin grinned mischievously, and I inhaled the fragrance of my sinfully sexy Muslim girlfriend's fart. A farting fetish fan's idea of heaven.

When passion takes hold of you, you just never know where it might take you. Slinking away in the dark, Yasmin and I made our way to the back of the nearby Loblaw's, and got it on between two oversized trucks. Hiking up her long traditional Islamic skirt, Yasmin revealed her thick Somali ass. My heart skipped a beat when Yasmin spread her thick ass cheeks wide open, revealing her asshole. I began kissing and fondling her butt, sticking my tongue into her asshole. Moments later, Yasmin let out a second loud, wet fart. I smiled with contentment while inhaling her womanly fumes. I'm in heaven, or Jannah, as my sexy Muslim girlfriend calls it!

Grinning, Yasmin told me to fuck her. I grinned, and continued licking her sweaty asshole while fingering her pussy. Soon I had Yasmin as wet as a puddle. I was stunned when Yasmin handed me a small flask containing Aloe cream, and told me to make good use of it. Happily I did just that, and lubricated Yasmin Hussein's asshole good and proper. Finally, when my Somali sweetheart deemed herself ready, I pressed my dick against Yasmin's asshole. Yasmin grinned and gave me the green light. I pushed my dick into Yasmin's ass, and gripped her wide hips tightly. And just like that, I began pounding my dick up my girlfriend's asshole.

Yasmin Hussein moaned deeply and squealed in delight as I fucked her in the ass. I came, and almost at the same time, I felt a puff of hot air against my member. Yasmin farted on my dick when I came inside of her, flooding her asshole with her member. Yasmin squealed in delight as my cum filled her bowels, and much to my delight, Yasmin farted again. I pulled out of her, and then spun Yasmin around. As my Somali goddess looked on in surprise, I took her face in my hands and kissed her full and deep. I love this woman!

Yasmin kissed me back, and we looked into each other's eyes. I smiled at her, and was about to say something else when a voice startled the hell out of us. It was the store security guard, a chubby black dude, and his eyes widened like saucers when he saw us. Yasmin and I waved at him, and hastily readjusted our clothes. The dude's mouth flopped open and close like a fish out of water, and Yasmin and I laughed. Quickly we dashed through the half-empty parking lot, and walked to the nearest bus stop, laughing all the way. Yasmin winked at me as we boarded the bus. I smiled at her and shook my head. Dammit, I don't care if I have to convert to Islam. I'm going to MARRY that freaky Somali woman!!!