"Thank you for helping me, Jean-Pierre," said Mona Mogahed, and the forty-something Arab matriarch looked at her son Ali's best friend, who'd gone through the trouble of clearing away all the snow in her driveway. Mona's son Ali had been best friends with Jean-Pierre Boudreau for ages. The two young men met at Algonquin College, and took radically different paths in life. Ali was currently at the Kingston penitentiary, where he would be kept for the next year and a half. Ali had some very stupid and illegal things, and the law is the law, after all...
Mona Mogahed loves her son Ali very much, but since he was a wannabe gangster with a fondness for robbing the local LCBO liquor store, or the Quickie's store down the street, perhaps prison would be good to him. Everyone in Vanier, Ontario, knew about Ali's criminal ways and various exploits. Ali had to learn a lesson, and he'd been running wild even since his father Mahmoud Mogahed passed away three years ago. Mona is a very hard-working and pious woman who attends the mosque twice a week. The lonely widow and mother doesn't have anyone to turn to in these difficult times. What's a gal to do?
"You're welcome, Miss Mogahed," Jean-Pierre replied with a smile, and as he worked the shovel, Mona couldn't help but admire his fine physique. Jean-Pierre stood six feet two inches tall, dark-skinned and muscular, and he was handsome in the manner of Afro-Caribbean gentlemen. Mona smiled as she caught herself checking out Jean-Pierre's cute bum. At the age of twenty two, Jean-Pierre was handsome and still single, though since he was a recent college grad with a good government job, this would change soon...
"Jean-Pierre, please come inside for some cocoa," Mona Mogahed said innocently, and the young man did as he was told. He came inside and took off his coat, revealing his finely muscled torso. Even with a T-shirt on, Jean-Pierre looked built. He sat in the living room, and sipped on his cocoa while Mona put on some music. At the age of forty eight, Mona Mogahed still looked good. She stood five feet nine inches tall, curvaceous, with dark bronze skin and long dark hair slightly streaked with gray.
"Thank you for this, Miss Mogahed," Jean-Pierre said, and Mona grinned, trying not to look at his crotch, for he sat in the typical "man-spreading" manner. Mona Mogahed is a proud Muslim woman from the Arab world. She is pious, quiet, polite and very conservative. Mona Mogahed is also a woman who hasn't had sex with anyone since her husband Mahmoud Mogahed died three years ago. Sex toys and fingering can only satisfy a woman for so long. Mona Mogahed needs some dick, alright?
"So, Jean-Pierre, tell me about that girlfriend of yours," Mona teased him, knowing that Jean-Pierre, like a true Haitian gentleman from the old school, didn't like to discuss such things with a lady. The last time Mona saw Jean-Pierre, she'd been shopping at the Loblaw's located in downtown Ottawa, and spotted him in the company of a plump young white woman, Heather somebody. Jean-Pierre had not mentioned Heather in a while and Mona was pretty sure that their relationship was toast, but she wanted to tease him anyways...
"Heather and I broke up, Miss Mogahed," Jean-Pierre said, and the tall, handsome young black man leaned back on the couch, looking sad. Mona looked at Jean-Pierre, who went from his cheerful Haitian self, all sunny and optimistic, to downright miserable and forlorn. Every nation on the planet earth knows about black men's fondness for plump white women. Heather must have done a number on Jean-Pierre for the brother to look so damned sad. Lucky for Jean-Pierre, Mona Mogahed is there to help a brother out, as it were...
"Oh I'm so sorry," Mona Mogahed said with admirable false sincerity, and she drew closer to Jean-Pierre. With a look of pure sympathy in her face, but lust in her heart, Mona laid her hand on Jean-Pierre's lap. The brother did not seem to notice the lustful gleam in the matronly Arab Muslim lady's eyes. Mona gently put her arm around Jean-Pierre and although he seemed surprised by this, she encouraged him to let go and embrace her. Mona hugged Jean-Pierre tightly, and it was definitely not in a motherly way...