Saudi Milf & Blac Scholar

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, to find my sweetie, Amina Alzahrani, either crying or tossing and turning. That's when I know for sure that she's dreaming of her old life in Yanbu, Saudi Arabia. As liberated as my sweetie says she is, I can see in her eyes that Amina is still haunted by the country and people she left behind. Those nightmares plague Amina, and I feel absolutely powerless to stop them. It's not a good feeling at all, folks.

My name is Tyrone Ferguson, and I'm a young African-American man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I moved there a few months ago from my hometown of Buffalo, New York. I'm pursuing my MBA at the Sprott School of Business of Carleton University, which I transferred to after graduating from Buffalo State College. I'm back in school, and living with a wonderful lady, my sweet Amina.

The problem is that we're both damaged souls, in our own way. Amina Alzahrani told me about her control freak parents, Ahmed and Khadija Hassan, and her former husband, Samir Alzahrani, and the awful way they all treated her back in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. We didn't get into too many details, but I got the picture.

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is a very different world from Canada and the United States of America, that's for damn sure. The things I read about Saudi Arabia's draconian laws restricting women's lives stunned me. Women can't drive over there, nor can they leave the house without a male companion. Supposedly for their own protection, of course. And last but not least? They cannot show their faces in public and must wear a burka everywhere they go. That is some bullshit if you ask me.

Amina Alzahrani doesn't like it when I criticize her ancestral homeland, so I don't bother. I just wish things would go back to normal between us. When I go to bed with my sweetie in my arms, I want to spend a lovely night with her. Being woken up in the middle of the night with Amina weeping and shouting panic-stricken words in Arabic doesn't make for a very restful or lovely night. Not at all.

Look, I'm not trying to be insensitive here but I do wish Amina would talk to me, or to someone, perhaps a professional, about the issues plaguing her. I can relate to some of what she must be going through. I'm an orphan and grew up in the foster care system of the State of New York. I bounced around from one foster home to another. You name it, I endured it. I got beat up, battered and worse. A lot of the people who take in foster brats like myself do so just for the paycheck from the government. They don't give a damn about us. I met a lot of people like that.

In spite of the hardships that life threw my way, I learned to be strong and overcome. That's why I won an academic scholarship to Buffalo State College, even though I never received any support from my foster parents. I graduated from B.S.C. with honors and came all the way to Ontario, Canada, for my MBA and also because I wanted to get out of America for a while.

Every five minutes a racist white cop shoots an unarmed black man somewhere in the U.S. and President Barack Obama and Attorney General Eric Holder refuse to use the Department of Justice to prosecute these racist bozos. As a black man, the U.S. seemed a very unsafe and treacherous place to me. Canada is supremely boring and full of annoying, passive-aggressive people but I don't hear about minorities getting shot left and right. I guess I'm in a somewhat better place.

Sometimes, a change of scenery does a body good. I left Buffalo, New York, and even though Ottawa, Ontario, is the most boring place I've ever been to, I am doing alright in this place. Although intensive, my classes at Carleton University are going great. I'm confident I'll get my MBA in less than two years. Once that happens, I'm sure a world of opportunities will open up for me. That's the good thing about a business degree, you can work in a variety of fields. At least that's what I'm hoping.

Rising from the bed, I took a longing look at Amina Alzahrani, my sweetheart, who lay curled up with the sheets halfway covering her body. I smiled and gently touched her hair and then went to the washroom. I needed to pee quite badly. Whipping my dick out of my boxers, I took a long wiz. Felt a burning sensation deep inside. That's what happens when a man holds his pee too long, seriously.

I came back to bed, to find Amina lying in a fetal position, clutching her belly and whimpering, her eyes tightly closed. Sweetie, I said, gently touching her shoulder. Amina ignored me, as she always does when she's in the throes of a violent nightmare. Arabic words uttered in a frantic tone came out of her mouth, and I sighed deeply as I pulled the covers over her and tried in vain to get back to sleep.

This evening started out so great, I silently lamented. Amina Alzahrani came home from the University of Ottawa's bio-medical engineering department and the call center where she works, and like the horny freak that she is, my Saudi Arabian goddess gave me a special treat. I love eating juicy female ass and if loving it is wrong then this brother definitely doesn't want to be right.

After letting me eat her gorgeous ass and sucking her sweaty asshole and tasting her delicious cunt juices, Amina asked me to fuck her in the ass. This I did happily, lubricating my dick before sliding into my Arabian diva's tight backdoor. Then I gripped Amina's wide hips, smacked her big Saudi booty and then thrust my dick into her asshole. This time I fucked her roughly, and much to my surprise, Amina took to receiving rough anal sex like a bird takes to flying. I love that in a woman!

Yeah, we had a lot of fun earlier tonight, Amina Alzahrani and I. You can understand why a brother might feel disappointed and a bit annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the damn night by his lady's screams. Still, what I am I do? We've all got our demons. Sometimes I still have nightmares about the foster care system, the abusive people who raised me and told me I'd never amount to anything. Bunch of bozos.

Guess I sure showed them, eh? I left Buffalo, New York, and now I've got a brand new life in Ottawa, Ontario. I've got a new job, a new apartment and a new city to call home. Education-wise, I'm cool. I've got my bachelor's degree from an American college and I'm well on my way to getting my MBA from a Canadian university. And I've got a gorgeous, kinky and absolutely wonderful lady in my life. My sweet Amina. A rare flower from the Saudi Arabian desert.

Thank God for you, I whispered, gently kissing my beloved Amina Alzahrani on the forehead. Was it my imagination or was her forehead hot? I sure hope my sweetie isn't sick. Amina's eyes snapped open, and for a moment she looked disoriented. Her dark eyes bore into mine, nothing was said by either of us for a while. Finally, Amina Alzahrani smiled. Good night, she whispered. Finally, we both drifted into sleep. At last.