Somali Queen in Ottawa

As Salam Alaikum, dear reader. My name is Yasmin Hussein, and I'm a young Muslim woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Today is one of the happiest days of my life. Why is that, you may ask? The answer is quite simple, really. I am graduating from Algonquin College with a degree in accounting. Sadly, in this most emotional of days, my family isn't there.

Not because they don't know I am graduating but because they don't care. I'm not going to sugar coat things at this point. I, Yasmin Hussein, am an outcast in Somali Canadian culture. My own family has turned its back on me. You see, they've forsaken me because I fell in love with Steve Salomon, a handsome and sweet young Haitian man who happens to be of the Christian faith. For loving him, I am dead to my family.

On this day, where, surrounded by the smiling faces of my fellow grads, I yearned to see my parents and extended family, I felt more alone than ever. At least I did, until I saw my boo, Steve Salomon, flanked by his parents, and a few people I did not know. When I walked to the podium to receive my diploma from the school chancellor, a loud applause arose. All from the Salomon clan. I wasn't expecting that. Truth be told, it moved me to tears.

I had seen young men and women in caps and gowns receive their degrees while their families and friends cheered. I thought that when my turn came, the silence would be deafening. After all, I had no family in attendance. Well, on this day, I learned that family doesn't stop at blood. When I walked back to my seat, I saw Steve and his parents, waiving at me, laughing and smiling. I waved back at them, tears streaming down my eyes.

After the ceremony, we held a reception at the Salomon household, and I watched, amazed, as these people I once viewed as strangers treated me as if I were their own daughter. Hope you're enjoying your special day, Steve's Mom said to me. I smiled and nodded, then hugged the old Haitian lady fiercely. I thanked her profusely, and Steve smiled and nodded at his Dad, who winked at his son. That afternoon, I ate some truly delicious Haitian food, surrounded by people who clearly cared about me.

As I sat there, I watched Steve and his family. The Salomon clan was something else. What a wonderful people, I thought wistfully. I had met Steve's folks a few times before and their reaction toward me had been lukewarm at best. I bet good Haitian Catholic mothers don't expert their intelligent and well-behaved Haitian sons to bring home Hijab-wearing Somali Muslim girls. Not with so many Haitian Christian women around. Yet in spite of their misgivings, the Salomon's were throwing me a party and treating me with great kindness because they knew I loved their son Steve and that he loved me dearly.

I am beyond touched by the kindness and generosity of the Salomon clan. As I sat at the dinner table before the sumptuous feast prepared by Steve Salomon's mother, the lady of the house, I felt moved. No Somali family would go to such lengths to please their offspring if they did not approve of the person he or she was with. Trust me on that one. Haitians are something else. After this emotional day, I was ready to eat but Steve's Mom said that we had to say Grace.

I watched as every person at the table, male or female, young or old, bowed their heads. Steve's Mom nodded at her husband, and Steve's Dad cleared his throat before saying Grace. Thank you God in Heaven for this meal and bless those who prepared it and bless Yasmin who is graduating today, the old man said, and then everyone at the table said amen. I heard myself say amen, much to my immense surprise.

Understand that in the Muslim community, we don't pray over our meals. This is a largely Christian tradition. Not sure if the Jews pray over their meals but it is not something that Muslims do. After Steve's father finished saying the prayer, one of the shortest prayers I've ever heard, we began eating. I ate some delicious rice and chicken, with macaroni, and I washed it down with Pepsi and a type of lemonade-like Haitian tea. Good stuff. After the meal, we watched TV in the family living room.

Steve and I snuggled on the couch, while his Dad and Mom sat in separate chairs. We watched Boomerang on BET. It's a classic romantic comedy starring Eddie Murphy, Halle Berry and the always unforgettable Grace Jones. At home with the Salomon's, in the arms of my beloved Steve, I felt happy for the first time in ages. When it came time for Steve and I to head home, I hugged his Mom and Dad, and then we drove away. Your parents are awesome, I said to Steve, who smiled and nodded. They're amazing, he said, and remained quiet as we drove from Orleans, Ontario, back to our little spot in Vanier.

As soon as we got home, I changed out of my cap and gown, into something much more comfortable. A crimson tank top, blue shorts, and baseball cap. Hello stranger, I said sexily, as Steve stepped out of the shower. The big and tall Haitian stud smiled wolfishly at me, and I knew that I was going to get the D. Grinning, I got on my hands and knees and crawled toward Steve Salomon on all fours.

The Haitian stud stroked his long and thick, uncircumcised chocolate stick and waved it at me. I reached for it with both hands and stroked it. Fuck yeah, Steve whispered. Grinning, I licked the head of his cock and then began sucking it earnestly. It didn't take Steve long to cum. My boo confessed that he had been wanting to fuck me all day. You look hot in that graduation day cap and gown stuff, Steve said, and I winked at him appreciatively while going down on him.

After a while, Steve came and I happily drank his seed. I love the way my boo tastes. Once Steve got his nut, he told me he was hungry for some of my sweet Somali pussy. I smiled at him as I lay on the bed, legs spread invitingly. Somali pussy is the best, I said confidently, and Steve's eager nod told me that he most definitely agreed with that statement. I lay there, gently rubbing my lover's head as he buried his face between my shapely thighs. Eat that pussy, I said cheerfully, and Steve did just that.

A lot of guys treat oral sex as if it's just a preliminary but Steve treats it as though it's the main event. The Haitian stud worked his tongue and fingers into my pussy, and set my cunt on fire with his magic touch. I howled Steve's name in just about every frigging language I knew, including Somali, French, English and profane! A grinning Steve pulled me on top of him and impaled my hungry cunt on his hard dick. I wasn't expecting that but totally loved the deliciously hot pain I felt down below as Steve's thick Haitian cock stabbed my wet Somali pussy.

Fuck me lover, I whispered, as I wrapped my arms lovingly around Steve's torso. A savage grin etched on his roughly handsome features, Steve kissed me full and deep, then smacked my ass as he thrust his big dick deep inside of me. I howled in pleasure as I felt Steve's length invade my cunt. It had been too long since my boo and I got our freak on. Three whole days. For a couple as passionate as Steve and I, it's almost an eternity!

Steve slammed his dick into my pussy mercilessly. This Somali woman loves rough sex and my boo was more than happy to oblige. Steve fucked me until I cried out for mercy, and then fucked me some more. Once all was said and done, I lay in my boo's strong arms. My voluptuously womanly form is covered with sweat, I've got Steve's cum dripping out of my cunt, and I feel pleasurably sore all over. I am a happy woman.

Lying next to Steve in the dark, my mind drifted. I realize that I hadn't been too easy to deal with. As always, Steve was patient with me. Graduation day was approaching and with that threshold around the corner, I was nervously and anxiously reviewing my life. I am a young Somali woman. The daughter of immigrants from the Horn of Africa. Getting a college education is a big deal for me. I wish my family, the Hussein clan, could have been there but they've abandoned me. I don't need them. I am thankful that my boo, Steve Salomon, and his family, have made my graduation day extra special. When Steve graduates from Carleton University, I'm totally going to be there for him. Good night.