Nabila Yassin of Yemen

"So, Izzy, you really like my farts?" Nabila Yassin said softly, and the young Yemeni Muslim woman looked at her lover Ismail "Izzy" Machar, as they sat inside the Starbucks located across the Ottawa Main Library on Metcalfe Street. It was a frosty Tuesday morning in mid-November in downtown Ottawa, Ontario, but inside the small, trendy café, things were definitely heating up for a certain pair.

Nabila smiled to herself, and looked heavenward, or in this case, toward the crowded café's ceiling. I have finally found a man who likes me for me, Nabila thought happily. A year ago, Nabila met the future love of her life under unique, if embarrassingly funny circumstances. Looking back, the whole ordeal had been quite amusing, even though she definitely did not think so at the time...

Nabila had gone to Carleton University on that fateful Monday morning feeling particularly stressed. It was the start of her fourth year in the Criminology programme at Carleton and with the LSAT looming, she had a lot on her mind. A meeting with Mr. Noel her academic advisor the previous Friday revealed that she wasn't doing too well in her core classes, which was something she'd have to compensate for if she wanted to graduate with honors. Oh, and it was also her birthday, but ain't nobody got time for that!

Staying up all night Sunday to study for her criminology classes led to Nabila oversleeping, and the young woman ended up skipping breakfast in order to make it to her 8: 30 A.M. Criminal Justice Systems class. Exiting class at 11: 30 A.M. Nabila lined up behind all the other peons inside the University Center building's Tim Hortons, hoping to grab a tasty egg sandwich and hash browns before they stopped serving breakfast.

"Fuck, I don't feel too good," Nabila said to herself after finishing her breakfast. Rising from her chair, the young woman headed to the elevators, intent on reaching the U.C. building fourth floor, and she sighed happily as the elevators closed. Alone at last ( or so she thought ) Nabila finally did something she'd been wanting to do for a little while now. Sighing happily, Nabila cut loose...and farted.

Ismail 'Izzy' Machar was on his way to the special presentation of the South Sudanese Students Club in the Atrium when he saw an elevator about to close. Rushing in, he barely made it before the doors closed...and soon wished he hadn't. For a certain tall, chubby, Hijab-wearing Arab gal let loose a thunderously loud fart. Gasping in shock, Izzy looked at the wide-eyed young woman, who stared at him, as if he shocked her, instead of the other way around.

"Um, okay," Izzy said hesitantly, and Nabila looked at him sheepishly. I did not just fart in an elevator right next to this dude, she thought to herself as she looked at the big and tall, dark-skinned and well-dressed African guy who stood in front of her. The young woman smiled, and then, without warning, she actually burst out laughing, much to the bewilderment of the man sharing the young elevator with her.

"Aw, shucks, I am so sorry, brother, I ate something that didn't agree with me," Nabila said, in an apologetic tone. The young man stood there, and looked at her as though she had two heads. I must seem like a weird woman to him, Nabila remembered thinking at the time. The young man's reaction to her, though, was definitely not what Nabila was expecting...

"It's alright, sister, you're human, these things happen," the young man replied, and he smiled and nodded. Nabila looked at him, and was about to say something when the elevator doors opened. They'd reached the fourth floor, and the always busy, perennially crowded Atrium beckoned. Nabila hesitated, and the young man nodded, gesturing for her to exit first.

"Thank you brother," Nabila said quietly. Nodding, she exited the elevator, followed by the tall, dashing brother. Nabila watched as her victim/elevator co-rider cut through the Atrium, and went to join some colleagues of his. This has got to be the most embarrassing experience of my adult life, I hope this brother doesn't think too badly of me, Nabila thought, as she hurried past the handsome, dark stranger and his colleagues.

"You got it, Nana, what can I say? I love that big butt of yours and everyone to do with it," Izzy replied, flashing her that smug, fearless smile of his. Nabila blinked as Izzy's deep masculine voice snatched her out of her little trip down memory lane. Leaning back in his chair, he licked his lips, a gesture which sent a pleasant thrill down Nabila's spine. Passersby looked at the seemingly mismatched young couple, and some seemed genuinely puzzled to see them together. Nabila and Ismail came from different worlds, to say the very least.

Izzy cut a dashing figure in his crisp white silk shirt which contrasted sharply with his mahogany-hued skin, dark red tie, and black silk pants. He'd gone to the South Sudan Liaison Office on Stewart Street to renew his passport, and was thus dressed to the nines, as they say. Nabila, who wore a simple Khimar scarf, which covered her hair, neck and shoulders, over a long-sleeved dark blue T-shirt, ankle-length black skirt, and black leather boots, almost felt underdressed next to her beloved Izzy.

"Don't call me Nana," Nabila teased, and she grabbed Izzy's hand and pinched it, and he just laughed it off. Ismail looked at her and grinned, and then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. No pictures, Nabila thought with alarm, and blessedly, Izzy didn't take any shots of her. He spoke in Dinka, the Nilotic dialect spoken by the majority of the South Sudanese people. Nabila only knew a smattering of Dinka, which Ismail had taught her early in their relationship...

"Die nyar ( my lady ), I am in a lot of shit," Izzy said softly, as he turned off his cell and put it back in his pocket. For a brief moment, there was a hollow, haunted look on his dark, handsome face. As quickly as it came, the look vanished. Izzy's golden brown eyes narrowed, and he took Nabila's hands in his, and gently lifted them to his lips. Nabila smiled, for his mustache tickled her skin when she brushed against it.

"What's going on, Habibi?" Nabila asked, and she studied Izzy's face carefully, trying to gauge the extent of his worry. Izzy stroked his goateed chin thoughtfully, and he shook his head sadly. Nabila drew closer to him, wondering what troubles were plaguing his mind. Like so many men out there, Izzy liked to keep his secrets close to his vest, and getting him to open up was, for his darling Nabila, like pulling teeth...

"Well, my dear," Izzy said, and he took Nabila's hands in his and looked into her eyes, a worried look on his face. Nabila's heart thumped in her chest. She hadn't felt that nervous since she ran into Izzy a while ago, at a meeting of the Muslim Scholars Association on campus. She'd been shocked to see him there, smiling and talking to fellow Muslim students. Izzy looked her way and smiled, and invited Nabila to come participate in the discussion they were having. Thus, they met again, and a whirlwind romance followed...

"Happy birthday, Habibti," Izzy shouted gleefully, and then he clapped his hands, and a familiar-looking Starbucks employee stepped forward, holding a cake. Nabila blinked in surprise, not believing what she was seeing...or hearing for that matter. She'd never been big on birthday celebrations and seriously thought Izzy had forgotten that today was both her birthday, and the anniversary of the day they met.

"You crazy, wonderful man," Nabila said, and she blinked back tears as the Starbucks employee, none other than her fellow M.S.A. member Alia, set the cake before her. Izzy and Alia exchanged dap, and then in unison they wished Nabila a happy birthday. Nabila grinned, and then grabbed Ismail "Izzy" Machar, and kissed the South Sudanese trickster passionately. This was a most wonderful and thoroughly unexpected surprise...

"Come on, cutie, you didn't think I'd forget your birthday, did you?" Ismail asked slyly, grinning at Nabila while twirling his slick mustache. After thanking Alia, Nabila looked at Izzy and laughed. The brother is annoying charming, or charmingly annoying, and way too full of himself, but I like him, Nabila thought, and she slid her hand under the table, and laid it on Izzy's knee. When he didn't react, Nabila's hand traveled upward...

"Oh, you had me going, I will admit," Nabila replied, and she began to rub Izzy's crotch, and he smiled nonchalantly, as if nothing special were going on. Only when Nabila began to fumble with his zipper, playfully of course, did Ismail react. His eyes went wide, and he shot her a look. Nabila smiled innocently, looking for all the word like the prim and proper, Hijab-wearing Muslim sister that she appeared to be...instead of a wicked temptress with her hands on his family jewels.

"Well, Nabila, you've got me going to, so, ahem, what do you say we wrap this up and go home?" Ismail asked, through gritted teeth, and Nabila smirked, loving his sheer discomfort. Sighing, she rolled her eyes and nodded, clutching her birthday cake like a weapon. Ismail rose and followed her out of the restaurant, and they waved at well-wishers who'd seen the whole birthday surprise, and were smiling at them. What a day, Ismail thought to himself.

"I've got a surprise for you," Nabila said, smiling coyly as she sat next to Izzy, who sat at the wheel of his beat-up Toyota. Izzy shot her a look as he began the long trek back to their rented townhouse in the suburb of Barrhaven, Ontario. Having finished with her morning classes at the University of Ottawa Faculty of Law, Nabila needed a pick-me-up, and since Izzy had the day off from KPMG, they had themselves a little powwow. And the day was still far from over...

"Sounds good, hope I like it, Miss Birthday Girl," Ismail replied, and Nabila looked at him and smiled. Izzy was unlike anyone she'd ever met. The only person who makes me feel like I belong, Nabila thought, and she looked out the window. There were lots of people out and about in the Canadian capital. Businessmen, students, families, everyone going their own way. Families, Nabila thought, smiling bitterly.

Born in the City of Al Mahwit, Yemen, Nabila Yassin led a fairly wonderful, average life with her parents, Maryam and Nasser Yassin. Her father used to be a soldier in the Republic of Yemen Armed Forces, and after retiring, he began working as a baker. Nabila's mother worked as a schoolteacher at one of the many Quranic schools in their hometown.

One day, Nabila's parents decided to go to Ottawa, Canada, for a visit. Due to sectarian conflict in Yemen, the Canadian government was welcoming Yemeni refugees. The Yassin family had high hopes that Canada would welcome them, if they made it to Ottawa to plead their case. While heading to Ottawa from Toronto VIA Rail, there was a terrible accident, and Nabila's parents were among the fatalities. It was a day the unfortunate young woman would never forget.

Nabila ended up getting adopted by a Canadian couple, Louis and Georgia Welles, and they were kind, friendly and welcoming, doing their best to give the troubled young woman a semblance of normalcy. Fast forward a decade, and Nabila was a new citizen of Canada, a graduate of Carleton University, and a new Law student at the University of Ottawa. Things were happening for Nabila, personally and professionally, yet she felt like there was something missing...

While in university, Nabila Yassin reconnected with her Yemeni roots and Islamic faith, and along the way, through some uniquely amusing circumstances, she met Ismail Machar, international student originally from the City of Maridi, South Sudan. The six-foot-three, burly and superbly dark-skinned brother was a breath of fresh air, and Nabila couldn't get enough of him. When Ismail met her adoptive parents, Louis and Georgia Welles were quite charmed by the outspoken, friendly and outgoing young African. Life was good...

"Is everything alright, babe?" Ismail asked, and Nabila turned to look at him. There was a worried expression on his darkly handsome face. Nabila smiled and gently stroked Ismail's knee, and nodded firmly. Ismail bit his lip and looked like he was going to say something else, but then he refocused his gaze on the road. Izzy is so attentive and awesome, better than I deserve, Nabila thought, pleased.

Life in Canada wasn't easy for Ismail Machar, but he was the kind of guy who rolled with the punches. Born in East-Central African nation of South Sudan, he grew up among the darker-skinned Dinka, Nuer, Bari and Azande people who had been historically disenfranchised by the Afro-Arabian people of Sudan. When they split from Sudan to form their own nation of South Sudan, the world took notice. For these stalwart people who had grown tired of enduring racial oppression, life would not be easy in their new nation...

Ismail Machar's parents, Wahid and Noor Machar, were among the minority of Dinka people who followed Islam. When South Sudan formed, a lot of the Dinka, Nuer and Bari ethnic folks still held grievances against the Muslims, who had historically sided with the Afro-Arabian elite. Ismail's family found themselves less than welcome among their own people, even though they'd endured repression just like everyone else when the Afro-Arabian people still ruled them...

Ismail came to Ottawa, Canada, in search of a better life at the age of nineteen. It wasn't easy for him to learn English and French, but he did. He enrolled in language classes, and also took classes at the local adult high school. After graduating, Ismail applied to Carleton University, where he studied accounting. Fast forward four years and he had his degree, with honors, and thanks to his lady love Nabila, who sponsored him, Ismail was about to become a permanent resident of Canada...

"Gosh I'm tired," Ismail said, plopping down on the couch as soon as he and Nabila reached their rented townhouse on Longfields Avenue near Marketplace Station. The young man leaned back on the couch, feeling more than a bit tired. He'd worked for eleven days straight at KPMG, eager to wow his employers. Ismail was a talented newcomer with a work permit and a study permit, he knew how lucky he was that they bothered to hire him in the first place. His continued employment was contingent on him getting his permanent residence card soon...

"Well, you're not about to get any rest any time soon," Nabila said, her melodious voice snatching Ismail out of his worrisome musings. Nabila sighed as she stood before Ismail, hands on her hips. A statuesque five-foot-ten, the curvy, Hijab-wearing Yemeni Muslim gal looked at a certain sleepy-looking South Sudanese Muslim stud, and clucked her tongue. When Ismail didn't react, beyond gawking at her, that is, Nabila decided to bring the big guns, as they say. Licking her lips, Nabila began to undress, and as expected, Ismail perked right up...

"Oh damn," Ismail said, and Nabila grinned, and took off her shirt, and than slipped out of her long, traditional dress. Nabila unclasped her bra, and slipped out of her panties. Saving her headscarf for last, Nabila finally took it off, freeing her long, curly black hair, then stood perfectly naked before her man. Voluptuous, big-breasted, curvy and sexy, and damn proud of every inch of her body.

"Come to me," Nabila commanded, and Ismail rose, and walked up to her. Looking into each other's eyes, they smiled and then kissed. Off came Ismail's stylish shirt and pants, and Nabila grinned upon noticing that as usual, he wasn't wearing underwear. His dick, long, thick and dark, stood at attention. Nabila gently stroked it, and Ismail stuck his tongue down her throat while caressing her breasts with one hand and fondling her thick round ass with the other.

"Is everyone is this bossy in Yemen, or is it just you?" Ismail asked, and Nabila grinned, and then squeezed his ass. The two of them tumbled on the couch, and began making love. Nabila rolled off the couch and onto the carpeted floor, and lay there, gorgeously naked, her breasts swaying as she rubbed them together. Spreading her thick thighs invitingly, she firmly nodded at Ismail, who grinned, and nodded, understanding her meaning...

"I'm one of a kind, lover," Nabila retorted hotly, and Izzy kissed her, then began sucking on her breasts. At the same time, he slid his hand between her thighs and began pleasuring her. Nabila gasped at the oh-so welcome intrusion as Izzy began fingering her pussy. His soft, warm lips sucked on her breasts, licking them gently. Those same lips made their way down to her crotch, and then planted themselves firmly on her pussy. When Izzy's tongue slid into her vagina, a happy squeal escaped Nabila's lips...

"My magic woman," Ismail thought to himself as he began eating Nabila's pussy voraciously. The young Yemeni woman moaned softly, and shuddered violently as he teased her clitoris with his tongue. Ismail teased, licked and probed Nabila, and the feisty Hijabi was like putty in his hands. After pleasuring her like this for a while, Izzy asked Nabila to get on all fours. He had big plans for that big ass of hers...

"Hmm, I got a nasty surprise for you, my favorite butt-man," Nabila said, as she got on all fours, and spread her thick golden ass cheeks wide open. Ismail got behind her and caressed her big ass, which she jiggled just for him. Ismail grinned, and felt his dick harden. There was nothing he loved more than a big round ass, and Nabila had one of the best that he'd ever seen. Izzy was still grinning and kissing Nabila's big ass when she suddenly farted, right on his face.

"Oh fuck," Izzy said, and a laughing Nabila pressed her big ass against his handsome face, drowning him in her toxic fumes. Izzy smiled, and then pressed his face against Nabila's ass. Grasping her ass cheeks with his hands, he spread her ass wide open, and then stuck his tongue into her asshole. Nabila sighed happily as Izzy began eating her ass. It turned out it was all true, what he'd said earlier. He really did love everything to do with her ass...

"Hmm, get your tongue in there, Izzy, you love this ass and you love my farts," Nabila giggled, and she smiled, pleased with herself for those cheesy sandwiches she'd had at Starbucks earlier. They came in real handy for helping her generate those deliciously toxic fumes that her darling Izzy loved so much. As the brother continued to eat her ass, his tongue wedged deep in her asshole, Nabila squeezed out another fart, right on his damn mouth...

"You are amazing, my nasty freaky woman," Izzy paused to say, and he continued to lather Nabila's asshole with his tongue like there was no tomorrow. Nabila squealed happily, and fingered her wet pussy as Izzy tongued her asshole. This was so damn good that she couldn't get enough of it. Afterwards, she decided to reward her man for the oral delights he so heartily unleashed upon her posterior...

"Hmm, I need me some of that," Nabila said, and without further ado, she grabbed Izzy's dick, and stroked it before taking it into her mouth. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, Izzy sighed happily as Nabila sucked him off. Like the naughty gal that she is, Nabila slid a finger up his ass while fellating him. Izzy grinned, loving what she was doing to him. Nabila sucked his dick until she had him good and hard, then she straddled him.

"Hmm, what a view," Ismail said, grinning as Nabila climbed on top of him, her lovely face inches from his, her big breasts swaying this way and that. Nabila smiled as Izzy caressed her breasts, and then thrust into her. A pleasurable sigh escaped her lips and she began riding him. Izzy bucked his hips, slamming his dick into Nabila, and the young woman rode him hard, giving as good as she got. Izzy smacked Nabila's big ass and pinched her nipples as he fucked her. As the afternoon rolled on, they fucked and sucked as if it had been a while, instead of a few hours...