Quebec Woman Marries Somali Man

Bonjour, dear readers. What's up, people? Melody Tremblay-Ibrahim here. I'm a young woman living in the City of Gatineau, Quebec. My friends call me Motor Mouth Mel. I'm five-foot-ten, a bit chubby, with long reddish brown hair, lime-green eyes and alabaster skin. Proudly French Canadian and feisty. Got one hell of a story to share with you. It's not easy being in an interracial relationship in today's world, but my Somali-Canadian Muslim husband Idris Ibrahim and I manage just fine. We are madly in love with each other and we're happy together, in spite of what the haters throw at us.

"Lady, can you stop staring at us and please ring our stuff through?" I said to the chubby old white woman working at the cash register at Walmart. I noticed the old broad looking at Idris and I as we walked into the Walmart, and she pursed her lips in distaste. That's how a lot of old white folks look at interracial couples, especially when said couples involve a black man and a white woman. They don't seem to be as bothered by white male/black female couples. Go figure.

"Mademoiselle, I don't know what you're talking about," the old crone said, and she flashed Idris and I a fake smile as she rang our stuff through. Idris took his RBC debit card out of his well-worn leather wallet, and paid for our groceries. The cashier put our stuff in them gray plastic bags, and we each grabbed a pair. Minutes later, Idris and I pulled out of the Walmart parking lot, and headed home. I was still fuming over that old cashier's behavior. Maybe it's because I'm pregnant and just starting to show, but I really can't suffer fools.

"You were on fire back there, my dear," Idris said, and I briefly took my eyes off the road and flashed my darling husband a smile. I love this man something fierce and I cannot get enough of him. Three years ago, we met at the Rideau Shopping Center in downtown Ottawa. I was new to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, having moved there from my hometown of Longueil, Quebec, to study Nursing at the University of Ottawa. I needed a new cell phone, and walked into the store where Idris happened to work.

"Thanks, mon cheri, I know," I replied, and blew Idris a kiss. From the first time I laid eyes on this six-foot-three, lean and athletic, gorgeously dark-skinned stud from Somalia, I knew that he was something special. A recent graduate of Carleton University's civil engineering programme, Idris Ibrahim was managing a cell phone store inside the Rideau Shopping Center while looking for work in his field at the time we met. Something about his kind eyes, exotic good looks and confident demeanor drew me to him.

When you're from a small, lily-white town in rural Quebec, a place like the City of Ottawa can be a bit daunting. I swear, I'd never seen any black folks or Arabs or Indians until I came to Ottawa. In Quebec, for the most part, minorities stay in places like Montreal and Quebec City. Small-town Quebec tends to be whiter than snow, and a tad bit xenophobic. That's how I used to be, until fate stepped in and changed my world.

When I met my future husband, I was nineteen years old and on my own for the first time. My parents Muriel and Jonathan Tremblay had just gotten a rather nasty divorce. My family is kind of messed up. My parents disowned my older brother Jacques for being gay and he ran off to the City of Montreal with his Asian boyfriend Chan. I was utterly alone in the big city. Yeah, I was going through a lot. Idris became my first friend in Ottawa and later, so much more.

We definitely come from different worlds, my darling husband Idris and I. For starters, the dude has a big family. Idris's parents, Malik and Choukri Ibrahim have three sons and two daughters. The first time Idris invited me to meet them for dinner, only about four dates into our budding relationship, I was more than a bit nervous. As it turns out, I had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Idris's family is real friendly and welcoming, and close-knit. Unlike mine. Somalis are among the friendliest people out there, I swear. It's a shame so many Canadians have something against them. The Ibrahim family is totally awesome. Idris's father Malik Ibrahim works as a bus driver with OC Transpo, and his mother Choukri, a very charming and nice lady, is a Nurse at Ottawa's Civic Hospital. They were really nice to me, and I was moved by their kindness and friendliness. They were so unlike my family, that's for sure. I fell in love with Idris Ibrahim and his family, and embraced their Islamic faith and culture.

"Damn it's hot today, I'm going to hop in the shower real quick," Idris said after putting the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. I rolled my eyes at him as he darted through our kitchen and went straight to the washroom. Moments later, I heard the water running. I tease Idris about his discomfort with the humid Ontario summer all the time. We're in late May, and a suffocating heat grips the Canadian Capital. I'm fine with it, but Idris showers like three times a day. Scores one for the tall, chubby white chick from the sticks. That's right, I actually can take the heat.

Fifteen minutes later, Idris emerges from the washroom, clad only in a light blue towel. Sitting on the living room couch, clad only in my bra and panties, and Hijab, I smiled at Idris and gestured for him to come to me. Grinning, Idris dropped his towel, revealing his long and thick, deliciously dark dick. My boo came to me, and we kissed passionately. I gave Idris's ass a tight squeeze.

"Let me taste you, big man," I whispered, as I took Idris long dick in my hands, and began sucking on it. Idris sighed happily as I began pleasuring him. Soon I had Idris harder than a rock. My man kissed me and caressed my tits, pinching my nipples. I gasped as Idris slid two fingers into my pussy and a third in my ass. My pussy twitched. I wanted him so badly.

"Ask and you shall relieve, my sweet," Idris said, and with that, he put me on all fours and gave my big white ass a firm slap. I moaned happily as Idris thrust into me, burying his dick deep into my cunt. Idris slapped my big ass and pulled my hair as he fucked me, and I screamed with wild abandon. Hard and fast we went at it, until Idris came, flooding my cunt with his manly seed. After all was said and done, we held each other and chilled for a while.

"I can never get enough of you," I said quietly as I looked into Idris Ibrahim's soulful brown eyes. I love this man something fierce, as I said before. My parents got really pissed when they found out I was in love with an African Muslim man. I don't care. You see, I hadn't spoken to them in ages, even before I met Idris. My family was messed up long before I got into an interracial relationship. What's done is done.

Idris Ibrahim is sexy, smart and ambitious. I've got his back true and true. I supported him when he decided to leave his management position at the cell phone store inside the Rideau Shopping Center and joined Hydro One. Now he's making more money and working in his field, which is good since we have a daughter on the way. I'm close to completing my Nursing studies at the University of Ottawa. Our lives are changing but I'm confident we'll make it as a family. Wish us luck.