Somali Queen in Ottawa

Yasmin Hussein is the name and I am a Hijab-wearing Muslim woman from Somalia living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Got a story to share with you. Before we get started, though, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. What I do with my pussy is my own damn business, and I answer to one on this. A lot of Muslims in Ottawa and beyond lead double lives, having wild and kinky sex, sometimes with multiple partners behind closed doors but dressing conservatively and acting demure while in public. They're hypocrites, and I hate this about them.

Me? I'm that rare Somali Muslim woman who will admit that I like sex, and I enjoy myself every chance I get. Doesn't mean I'll give you some pussy, though. I am very selective that way. I'm five-foot-ten, curvy and sexy, with dark brown skin, long curly black hair that I tuck away under my Hijab and almond-shaped golden brown eyes. I'm studying accounting at Algonquin College, and want to work for the Canadian Revenue Agency someday. Two years ago, I had a falling out with my parents, Yousef and Amina Hussein, and left our house in Kanata and moved to Ottawa proper. Best damn decision I ever made, for real.

I live in the Vanier neighborhood of Ottawa, a spot full of colorful characters, but rent is cheap in the area fortunately. Most of my neighbors are French Canadian, Somali, Arab or some type of minority, and that's how I like it. I work as a cleaning lady at a big office downtown. Whenever I tell people that I clean for a living, they look at me funny or turn their noses up at me. I know what they must be thinking, and they're wrong. What a bunch of idiots.

At least learn about something before making up your mind about it. Cleaning isn't a bad job when you're a twenty-year-old college student living on your own. I make fourteen dollars per hour cleaning largely empty buildings at night, when nobody sees me. I work six to eight hour shifts in utter tranquility, then go home to rest before my afternoon classes. I have very few hassles at work and that's how I like it. I make about eleven hundred dollars every two weeks, and that's not bad at all considering my rent is only three hundred and eighty dollars a month.

Yup, I had it all figured out, just work and get my degree from Algonquin College before getting a kick-ass job with the Canadian government. I speak and write English and French fluently, and I was born in the Katimavik area of Kanata, Ontario. My parents moved there from Mogadishu, Somalia, in the late 1980s. I am as Canadian as anyone. I don't see why our government shouldn't hire someone like me. I'm just biding my time until good things start to happen for me, ladies and gentlemen.

Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, I might be out of a job. You see, the other day, I did something crazy at work. Look, there's no clever and discrete way of saying it so I'm just going to say it. I got caught fucking with the security guard at work. The building where I work as a cleaner is located downtown, and it houses many government offices. The overnight security guard, a big and tall young Black guy named Steve Salomon, has been sweet on me for ages. Now, Steve is a Christian guy of Haitian descent and I'm a Muslim woman from a Somali background. Typically, people like us don't mix but odd days can make for some strange bedfellows.

Steve and I had known each other for a while and although he's kind of cute, I never really gave any serious thought to getting with him. I was dating a Somali brother named Ibrahim Warsama and we were getting pretty serious. Until the day I came home to find Ibrahim getting butt-fucked by our white neighbor, Alexandre Thompson. What the fuck? I had no idea that Ibrahim was gay or bisexual or whatever. The sight of a black dude with a white dick up his ass is something I shall never get out of my head. Some things you just can't forget, man. I knew Ibrahim had secrets but never thought they were this freaky. The Koran-quoting Muslim brother I met at Masjid and nearly fell in love with turned out to be a faggot. Hot damn. I did NOT see that one coming.

I'm not seeing Ibrahim anymore and told him that if I ever saw him at my house again, I'd cut his dick off. The disgusting little bozo got the message and left me alone. Good. Ibrahim is probably off somewhere sucking or riding a white dick. Let him do his thing. I'm moving on with my life. I decided to focus on work and school. I've only got one semester left before I graduate from Algonquin College, after all. I told myself that I was over what Ibrahim Warsama had done, and would be more careful with the next guy who came along. Unfortunately for me, I did not keep that promise.

I was at work, cleaning a large office on the seventeenth floor of my building when I sensed a presence behind me. It was Steve, the Haitian security guard, making his rounds. Smiling, Steve asked me if I was alright. I nodded, and we talked for a bit. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Yet for some reason, I opened up to Steve and told him about my fruity ex-boyfriend Ibrahim. When I finished my little spiel, I expected Steve to laugh because, well, even though I'm sad, it is a pretty funny story.

Instead of laughing, Steve gently pulled me into his arms and hugged me. Pressing his lips against my ear, Steve told me that any man who let go of a gorgeous woman like me was a fool. When Steve whispered into my ear, a frisson coursed through me. I looked up at him and stared, as if seeing Steve for the first time. He smiled nervously at me. I nodded, and then, for some reason, I kissed him.

Sometimes the mind, heart and body simply want what they want, eh? I kissed Steve, and he kissed me back passionately. How we went from kissing to getting it on, right here in the office, on the desk of some government worker schmuck, is beyond me. Next thing I know, I was hiking up my long skirt and yanking down my panties as Steve propped me up on the desk and began licking my sweaty pussy like there was no tomorrow.

I moaned deeply as Steve worked his fingers and tongue into my pussy, causing me to shudder with pleasure. The big security guard really knew his way around the female body. Soon he had me squealing in delight as I came, for he popped my pussy by thrusting three fingers inside of me while teasing my clitoris with his tongue. Hot damn, I cried out like a banshee, overwhelmed with pleasure, thanks to the Haitian dude's expert touch.

I looked at Steve through misty eyes and grinned lustfully, then told him I wanted to taste him. Steve grinned and unzipped his pants, freeing his long and thick, uncircumcised black dick. I had never touched a Haitian dick before, having been only with Somali guys, like the good Muslim sister I told myself I was. All Somali men are circumcised because of Islamic law and culture. I found Steve's dick different but liked the way it smelled and tasted.

Gently I inserted the head of Steve's dick in my mouth and began sucking his cock while massaging his balls. Now it was Steve's turn to moan as I worked my magic on him, sucking his dick with gusto. Oh yeah, I think I developed a fondness for Haitian dick that night. They're long, thick, uncut, and feel good in one's mouth! Once I got Steve nice and hard, I told him I was ready to get fucked. The burly security guard grinned, and rolled a condom out of his wallet and onto his dick. Grinning, Steve propped me up on the desk, spread my thick, shapely thighs wide open and pressed his dick against my cunt.

I looked up at Steve as he pushed his dick into my cunt. Gently I wrapped my arms around the big Haitian man's torso and urged him to fuck me hard. Grinning, Steve did just that. Raising my legs in the air, Steve began pumping his dick into my pussy like there was no tomorrow. I screamed loudly, urging him to smash that, as they say. And that's when the office light came on, and a middle-aged white woman in a business suit shrieked upon seeing Steve and I, tangled up in the middle of wild sex. Can you say busted?

Needless to say, the white businesswoman and her office called the security company and had Steve removed from the site's security team. He can't set foot in the building anymore. As for me, I've been suspended from work but the matter will be brought before the union which will decide if I'll be spared and sent to another site or canned. I'm keeping my fingers crossed because I need this job. Seriously.

As a side note, I got some other news for you. Steve and I are now officially seeing each other. He's overnight security for a building right around the corner from where we used to work together. There's a lot of security guard jobs in downtown Ottawa apparently. If anything good comes from this mess, it's that Steve is quite charming and friendly. The brother likes to take me to movies and restaurants, and he makes my pussy pop every time we go to bed. Nice, eh?

Steve isn't just a rent-a-cop either. Dude is in his third year in the business management program at Carleton University, and wants to be a corporate raider someday. Hmmm. The Haitian brother is tall, sexy, treats me well, and he's also educated and ambitious on top of being good in bed. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? I'm going to hypnotize Steve with my irresistible Somali ways ( and killer pussy ) and convert him to Islam. Then he'll be MINE. Seriously, I've already got his Islamic name picked out. How does Samir Suleiman sound? Wish me luck!