Saudi Housewife Rides Black Man

My name is Fatoumatta Qasim and I've got kinky sexual fantasies, and from what I read online I'm not the only Muslim woman with such fantasies. I want to make my fantasy come true one of them days. The only snag? I'm a hijab-wearing Saudi housewife living in the City of Nepean, Ontario. I'm five-foot-nine, plump rather than curvy, and I am a lung cancer survivor. I was born on November 9, 1978 and sometimes I think I've lived too long. Seriously. Can you tell that I am bored out of my mind? My husband Abdullah Qasim spends all his time at the downtown branch of the Canadian Revenue Agency where he works as an auditor. He's having an affair with his plump blonde co-worker Alice North and I pretend that I don't know.

My husband and I haven't made love in over a month. He hasn't touched me much since I got home from the hospital after my bout with lung cancer. Our oldest son Ali is studying business at Algonquin College and our daughter Amina is studying chemistry at the University of Toronto. I'm proud of my offspring for following their higher education dreams. After all, I hold a Master's degree in sociology from the University of Ottawa but I didn't do much with it. Too busy raising a family, I guess. The nest is empty and so is my bed, unfortunately. What's a gal to do?

I've spent a small fortune on sex toys. My favorite is this shiny blue butt plug I bought at the adult video store on Rideau Street in downtown Ottawa. I love walking around the house naked with that toy in my ass. It fills me up just right, you know? I love getting my ass filled! Gets my pussy squirming with pleasure just thinking about it. Sex toys are fun but they can only take you so far. I craved some human touch. Quite a dilemma for me, since I knew perfectly well that my husband would be well within his rights to kill me according to Sharia Law if he caught me cheating.

I joined this website called Fetish Life and after due consideration, I decided to post some pictures of me on it. Pictures of me shot from the back, of course, wearing my hijab and long skirt. You couldn't really see my face but you could tell that the lady in the picture was tall and plump, conservatively dressed like a proper Muslim sister should. Thus I began exploring the website. Honestly, what I found there simply amazed me. There are lots of Muslims leading double lives out there, I've known this for ages but seeing it with my own eyes absolutely amazed me.

I mean, I found a group called Islam on that site, and even one titled Black Muslim Femdom Club. Even though I'm not Black I joined it and saw lots of Somalis, Ethiopians, Nigerians, African-Americans, and others on the board. I was stunned to see hijab-wearing Somali girls talking about whips and chains and strap-on dildos. What's this world coming to? It seems that Muslim men and Muslim women love fetish and BDSM as much as anyone. The Ummah is full of sexual freaks and discovering that made me extremely happy. And I love it! It's about time that Muslims started exploring the world of kink and BDSM. That site was big on discretion and I appreciated that. If anyone believes in discretion it's me!

I became addicted to that site mere days after joining. I checked it on my iPhone and joined numerous groups that catered to my interests. While browsing one of the groups in the Ontario area, I came across a profile I found very interesting. A sexy Black man calling himself MagnusBBC117 advertised his sexual services. When I checked out his profile in great detail, I must say I liked what I saw. The brother in question was six feet tall, dark-skinned and quite handsome. Oh, and he was decidedly well-endowed. I sent him a message. I was quite surprised that he sent me a reply ten minutes later, and introducing himself as Hassan, a brother from Somalia living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario.

Like all women on the website Fetish Life, my inbox got flooded with messages from creepy guys who posted naked pictures of themselves stroking their less than impressive dicks. I blocked them as soon as I got them. MagnusBBC117 wasn't like the others. He offered me his friendship, and he was very polite to me. His profile was very descriptive. He showed me pictures of himself performing Hajj in Mecca during the summer of 2009. Wow, this man was tall, open-minded, sexy, kinky and a devout Muslim. Hassan and I became friends, and for weeks we spoke before he offered me his personal email address so we could keep in touch. Hassan and I communicated via email, and he even sent me a link to his Facebook account one month after we met.

What I saw on Ibrahim Hassan's Facebook profile amazed me. The brother looked good in a business suit! According to his profile he was born in the City of Calgary, Alberta, on February 7, 1983. Hmmm. That makes him an Aquarius. I love Aquarians though they get on my nerves. I'm a Scorpio by the way. Hassan holds a Law degree from the University of Toronto. Impressive. The man is sexy and educated. Not bad. He moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, in 2009. Oh, and he works for the RCMP in a civilian capacity. Good for him. I was thoroughly impressed. He was unmarried, which surprised me because sexy and educated Muslim bachelors are rare among the Ummah. They tend to marry off quickly because they're a hot commodity. There's a surplus of beautiful, educated Muslim sisters in Canada. A sexy, educated and gainfully employed Muslim brother who's perennially single is something of a rarity. When I asked Hassan about that, eh told me he was waiting for the right woman. I smiled at that.

One day, out of the blue, I asked Ibrahim Hassan for his number and he gave it to me. That day, we talked on the phone for ninety six minutes. I couldn't get enough of his strong, masculine voice, and his friendly, candid manner. We talked about things I hadn't thought in ages. My youth in the City of Qatif, in the Eastern province of Saudi Arabia, and my marriage to a wealthy entrepreneur named Abdullah Qasim. Our voyage to Canada, my journey through the higher education system of Ontario, the birth of our offspring, and our ups and downs. I have given my all to my family and now, I feel abandoned. I actually wept as I confessed this to Ibrahim Hassan and he told me that he would always be there for me if I needed a friend.

For the next two months, we talked on the phone every night. I was sure to always erase any evidence of our calls and texts from my phone. I dialed his number every time. I didn't store it among my contacts on my iPhone. Like I said before, I believe in being cautious. My life could depend on it. One day, my husband announced to me that he was going to Calgary for a three-day conference. Translation? He's going to bang the hell out of his blonde slut. Whoopee! I could care less who's he banging. I'm going to have some fun of my very own.

As soon as my husband left, I called Ibrahim and arranged for a coffee date. We met at this quaint little coffee shop near Baseline Station and there, we talked for hours. I must say that Ibrahim looked even better in person. At the end of our 'date', he asked me if he could see me again. A resounding yes escaped my lips as I gave him a hug. He smiled at me, wished me a good night then got back in his car. I walked back to my house, which is located near the library. I was on Cloud Nine, folks. Ibrahim is smoking hot!

The next day, I invited Ibrahim over so we could eat, since I am a great cook and wanted to impress him. When he got to the house, however, we didn't do much eating, that's for sure. I am still not sure how Ibrahim and I ended up fucking all over the living room floor. I mean, I remember opening the door and greeting him with a smile, and the next thing I know, we were kissing and hugging and undressing one another. Ibrahim kissed me passionately and told me I was beautiful. I blushed and told him I'd wanted him from the first time I saw him. Taking his hand, I took him to the living room couch, where we got really comfortable, if you know what I mean.

Off came my T-shirt and sweatpants, and I grinned as I unzipped Ibrahim's pants while he took off his shirt. The tall Somali stud stood naked before me, looking simply glorious. Black men are so sexy. I know I'm not the only Arab woman who thinks so but few Arab girls marry Black men because our fathers won't let us. The only Arab woman I've seen with a Black guy was a Lebanese Christian gal. I feasted my eyes on Ibrahim, and when I looked into his eyes, I liked what I saw. Desire, passion, and a deep need. I stood naked before him. A thirty-five-year-old Saudi housewife and mother of two college-age brats. I'm definitely not what most men think of as sexy since I'm tall and chubby, with my wide hips, thick thighs, big tits and huge round posterior. Ibrahim told me I was beautiful, and I believed him. Passionately we embraced, and things got really hot after that.

I sat on Ibrahim's lap, and he sucked on my tits while palming my butt. The sexy Somali stud couldn't stop talking about my butt. His eyes darkened when I told that my pathetic excuse for a hubby, Abdullah, constantly told me to slim down. Ibrahim stopped sucking my tits long enough to tell me how beautiful he found me. Smiling, I nodded and relaxed, letting him work his magic on me. My ebony lover laid me on the floor and spread my plump thighs. Gently he began licking and probing my pussy with his fingers and tongue. I licked my lips and closed my eyes as he did his thing, making me squirm in pleasure. Soon he had me moaning and screaming. When I finally came, shrieking in orgasmic delight, I think I honestly saw stars. Ibrahim pulled me into his arms and kissed me tenderly. I looked at him with gratitude and hunger, needing him.

I reached for Ibrahim Hassan's member and wordlessly knelt before him, taking him into my mouth. Gently I sucked his long ebony cock and caressed his balls. Ibrahim moaned softly and urged me to continue. I loved the way his dick smelled and tasted. So that's what Black dick is like eh? By Sal Al Din's beard I should have tried it a long time ago! I sucked Ibrahim's dick until he got hard as a piston, then climbed on top of him. Ibrahim put his hands on my wide hips and thrust his dick into my cunt. I licked my lips as I felt his hard dick inside of me at last. Ibrahim held me tight as I rode him hard, loving the way his big hard dick filled me completely. We fucked and sucked for hours on end, in all kinds of positions.

Ibrahim and I somehow ended up in the bathroom counter, where he took me, face down and ass up, smacking my big Saudi ass as he thrust his cock deep into my pussy. I told him to pull my hair, which I normally hid under my hijab like a pious Muslim woman should. Ibrahim laughed and did as he was told, going rough on me just like I wanted. It was awesome. Once we finished fucking, I once more knelt before him and sucked his dick. When he shouted to me that he was about to cum, I looked Ibrahim in the eyes and told him to cum all over my face like I'd seen men do to women in porno movies. Ibrahim came all over my face, and it was glorious. The feel of his hot, manly seed all over me. I licked every drop, and it was good!

That night, Ibrahim and I went to bed together, entwined in love. This was more than just a sexual encounter for either of us. I care for him and he cares for me. Finally there's a man in my life who appreciates me as a woman. I know that by being with him I am risking my life. If my husband Abdullah finds out about Ibrahim and me, his honor as a Muslim man will demand that he kills me. What are we going to do? I don't know. All I know is that I feel good when I'm around Ibrahim. And not just because of the hot sex and sweet words. I like him as a person. How I wish I'd married him or someone like him instead of Abdullah's cheating ass. Oh, well. There is little any of us can do to change our fates but we can live while we're alive, can't we?