Arab Milf For Black Studz

"Lady, that big ass of yours is too damn good. I just can't get enough", I smiled to myself as I eased my manhood out of Halima Mahmoud's puckered asshole. Patting Halima's derriere gently, I sighed with pleasure and pulled off the condom. Lying on her back, stretching luxuriously on the king-sized bed, her curvaceous and magnificently bronzed body shining with sweat, the sexy Lebanese MILF purred with contentment and winked at me.

"That was a lot of fun", Halima said, grinning. I smiled casually and nodded at her, playing it off, even though inside, I was elated. Not every day that a brother like me gets to hook up with such a classy, beautiful lady. What can I say? Sometimes luck swings my way. Every dog as his day, as they say.

"I love the feel of your dick in my ass," Halima sighs, and I look at her, shaking my head. When it comes to anal sex, few women do it and the few who do seldom admit to it. Halima is definitely not like the others. I mean, the stuff that this woman likes to try in bed makes my head spin, and I'm definitely no amateur. Fuck, I've been boning older women since right after I finished high school.

I lay next to Halima, who lit up a Menthol. Typically I don't like smokers because I'm a bit of a health nut. I used to play rugby in high school and even though I didn't qualify for U of T's varsity squads, I work out a lot to keep my six-foot-one, 220-pound body trim and fit. Judging by the way Halima marvels at me, I'd say the results are impressive.

"You young guys always got energy to burn," Halima said in that husky, sexy voice that never failed to get a rise out of me. Gently she stroked my chest, toying with my chest hairs and entwining them in her sleek fingers. At first, it's a tease, and what I've come to expect of Halima since we met. And then things escalate quickly.

"Easy there," I said, wincing slightly as Halima tugged on my chest hairs. Sometimes Halima likes to hurt me and finds it funny. Seriously, in the back of my mind I know that Halima is a sadistic and impulsive broad, and definitely not someone I ought to trust, but she's got such a sexual whammy that I forgive her almost anything.

The name is Anthony Watson, and I'm a young black man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I was born in this beautiful town, to a most unique couple. My father Arthur Watson is white, of English Canadian descent. My mother Arianne Antoine-Watson is black, of Haitian descent. I'm a student at the University of Ottawa, majoring in criminal justice. Someday, after graduating and paying my dues, I want to work in law enforcement. The face of my hometown is changing, and I want to represent my people.

Now, even though the City of Ottawa is one of the most multicultural locales on the planet, with scores of African, South Asian, Hispanic and Arabian immigrants making it their home, different immigrant groups often don't get along with each other. And many white Canadians don't like us immigrants at all. Take Halima and I for example. Typically, most Arab women deal with Arab men and the few who date/marry outside their race deal with white men or south Asian men. We're an unusual pair, to say the least.

"Ready to go again?" Halima whispers into my ear, as she presses her supple body against mine. I smile and look into her pretty face. Halima's round face is framed by her thick, curly black hair and her nearly luminescent golden brown eyes gaze intensely into mine. I kiss her full lips, and grasp her full, ripe breasts with both hands. My hands roam from her tits to her hips, and I slip one hand between her thighs.

"Oh yeah," Halima sighs, and the wild woman grins wolfishly as I begin fingering her pussy. I fasten my lips to Halima's left breast, which is nearly covered with a butterfly tattoo, and begin sucking on it like my life depended on it. While sucking on her tit, I slide two fingers inside her hot, wet pussy and then a third. I felt her whole body tremble, and her breath came out in short, almost staccato bursts.

"You like that huh?" I laugh, and as Halima nods, I lick a path from her breasts to her belly, and finally make my way to her pelvic region. I found myself face to face with Halima's womanhood. Her hairy pussy was inches from my lips. I inhaled its sharp scent. Some women mask their womanly aroma with vaginal deodorant. Not Halima. The Lebanese MILF flaunts her own aroma. Without warning Halima gripped my neck with both hands, and press my face against her cunt.

"Lick it and lick it good," Halima squeals, and I have no choice but to do as I am told. Now, Halima isn't exactly a large woman at five-foot-nine and one hundred and sixty pounds. Yet something about her natural intensity and passion makes her stronger than she ought to be. After feeling her hands on my neck, I can definitely testify to that. Halima is a strong woman in every sense of the word.

I busy myself pleasuring Halima, sticking my tongue inside her pussy and worming my fingers into her gentle folds. A universe of scents and tastes assaulted my senses. This is Halima Mahmoud at her most primal, her raw femininity in its purest form. I teased her clitoris with my tongue and slid three fingers inside her cunt, twisting them this way and that.

"Fuck it, stick your tongue in there just like that," Halima squeals as she squirms, her body thrashing about wildly as I work my magic on her. I licked her cunt, lapping at her womanly juices like a thirsty traveler finding an oasis after wandering the desert for days. For the first time since we'd begun our dalliance, Halima was orgasmic. I felt her whole body shudder, and a sharp, shocked little cry escaped her lips.

Looking up at her, I saw Halima's beautiful face scrunched up in an expression that was halfway between sweet pleasure and excruciating pain. "Oh my Gosh!" my favorite wild woman cried as she came. My lips remained fastened to Halima's cunt as she first cried out and shook, then went rigid, her eyes fluttering, her lips quivering in what I would come to recognize as an expression of orgasmic bliss.

A few droplets of something hot splashed my mouth, and I literally tasted Halima Mahmoud's orgasm. "Frigging hot," I say quietly, looking up at a still woozy-looking Halima and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Halima looks at me, her eyes wide, and licks her lips. Grinning, she gestures for me to come to her.

"Still want more?" I ask, looking into Halima's eyes and shaking my head. Shrugging, Halima smiles and wraps her arms around me, drawing me into herself. I can resist her when she wants me. The feel of her curves hugging me was absolutely heavenly. I press my hard dick against her cunt as Halima spreads her thick, sexy legs rather invitingly.

"Show me what you got Anthony," Halima whispers haltingly into my ear, as she holds my face with both hands. I smile coyly and thrust into her, loving the feel of Halima's pussy around my dick. This is our first time going bare back, and I must say I'm loving it. Halima raises her legs in the air and rests them on my broad shoulders, and I definitely go to town on her.

Groaning passionately, I begin to fuck Halima with hard, deep thrusts. The sexy lady holds me tight and makes sexy grunting noises as I fuck her. Yes, there are women out there who grunt, and I for one find that sexy. Filled with inspiration, I tell Halima that I want to change positions. She looks a bit surprised but nods, much to my delight.

"Now that's more like it," I say, smiling as I finally get Halima Mahmoud right where I wanted her. Face down and ass up. My sexy Lebanese lady love looks mesmerizing on all fours, with her nicely rounded derriere staring at me like temptation breathed into flesh. I caress Halima's ass and she purrs like a kitten. A sharp cry escapes her lips as I suddenly smack her.

"Ow," Halima cries, and looks at me, a look of surprise in her golden brown eyes. I smile and shrug, then grip her hips firmly and rub my hard dick against her butt. Halima smiles, and presses her ass against my groin. Oh, yeah. The lady definitely wants it. I ease my dick into Halima's cunt from behind, loving the way her derriere moves as I slam into her from behind.

"Fuck me harder dammit," Halima squeals, and I am happy to oblige the lady's request. Grabbing her long, lustrous dark hair, I fist it and yank her head backwards. At the same time I slam my dick into her pussy as hard as I could. Halima's throaty moan is all the thanks I need for my effort, and I continue fucking her hard, just the way she likes it. For a lady of a certain age, Halima's pussy is tighter than I thought it would be. Must be all those Yoga classes she's been taking. Whatever Halima's doing, it's working for her and I can't get enough of her sweet pussy.

"Cum inside of me," Halima suddenly shrieks, turning to look at me with an almost feral look in her eyes. I hesitate, for even though Halima is on the pill and we've both taken STI tests that came up clean, I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea of ejaculating inside of her during bareback sex. Unexpectedly I start mumbling, and Halima groans in frustration.

"Get off me," Halima snaps, and I withdraw from her, painfully, moments before I cum. Halima looks at me and scoffs, an expression of disappointment and utter disgust on her beautiful face. I look at her, falter, and try to placate her. This is definitely not how I pictured this remarkably sensual evening concluding, as you can imagine.

Halima gets up, and I behold the tall, curvaceous Lebanese MILF in all of her naked glory. "I want you out of my house," Halima snaps, and points to the bedroom door. I look at her, sigh, and then grab my clothes. I know better than to stay where I'm not wanted. Besides, in today's topsy-turvy world of gender-based political correctness, a man has to be real careful with the women he has sexual relations with. The average male citizen of Western society doesn't realize that he's one accusation away from a nightmare...

"Sorry," I say, and shake my head as I put my clothes back on while Halima watches me like a hawk. Her gorgeous body now hidden from view by a dark red bathrobe, Halima looks cold and angry, so unlike the woman who was riding my dick earlier. I let myself out of condo, and head for the elevator. I ride the elevator downstairs, and exit.

The moment I hit the street, it starts to rain. "Damn," I say to myself, and hastily walk away from Halima Mahmoud's majestic Elgin Street condo and into the dark night. I'm soaked by the time I reach the nearest bus stop, and grab a 95 bus heading to Orleans. I ride the bus and look around absentmindedly. The bus is packed.

I see the City of Ottawa's growing diversity reflected on this regular-looking bus. A portly white guy with a tall, dreadlocked and fine-looking black chick. An Arab guy with a tall, slender blonde-haired white woman. I also see a middle-eastern woman with a very dark-skinned South Asian guy, and a trio of Arab guys are staring angrily at them. I shake my head in disgust. The Arabs like to date/marry women of all races and cultures, but frown upon men of other races being with "their" women.

I know this intimately. I've always found middle-eastern girls attractive, but it was little more than a fantasy for the longest time since so few of them cross the racial line. When I met Halima Mahmoud, a visiting professor of sociology teaching for a year at the University of Ottawa as part of an exchange program with the University of Beirut in Lebanon, I was fascinated. We began seeing each other, even though fraternization between professors and students is forbidden by university rules.

Halima Mahmoud and I embarked on a torrid affair, one rendered all the more passionate because of the secrecy surrounding it. We were too different, I realize that now. I'm black and she's Arab, I'm in my twenties and she's in her late forties. Oh, and last but not least, I'm a Christian and Halima is a Shiite Muslim woman. Our affair was doomed from the start. And yet, somewhere along the line, during our secret rendez-vous in malls, movie theaters and restaurants, I started catching feelings for Halima.

That's why I'm hurting right now, I guess. I smile to myself as the bus nears the Saint Laurent Station, and I get off and walk upstairs. It takes me fifteen minutes to walk to McArthur, where I live in a one-bedroom rental. As I kick off my shoes and get ready for bed, my phone buzzes. "Sorry about what I did," reads the start of a lengthy text message from Halima Mahmoud.

I look at my cell phone and shake my head. I delete the text without reading it. Tomorrow, I might kick myself for doing so. Halima Mahmoud is an incredibly hot, sensual woman and one of the greatest sexual experiences of my young life. I will definitely miss her. Tonight, though, I won't think about her. Something else occupies my mind.

Instead, I think of the middle-eastern cutie I saw get off the OC Transpo bus at Hurdman Station with her dark-skinned South Asian boyfriend or husband. I can't get over the pride I saw in her face as she held his hand, even while the angry Arabs looked on, clearly jealous. I realize right then and there that this is what I want. A woman who will hold my hand in public proudly, not caring what the world says or does. I am tired of being the secret lover, lurking in the shadows. Quietly I delete Halima's number from my phone. Tomorrow, I'll try to set aside my lust for wanton older women and start to look for honest love. Good night.