Thirsty for Afro-Libyan Milfs

I first set foot in the Shawarma Sky restaurant in the City of Nepean, Ontario, a few months ago. I work as a loss prevention officer at the nearby Blue Store, the largest retail outlet in the area. The owner, Malik Al-Bouri, is a nice, forty-something Arab gentleman married to Nafisa, a tall, lovely and curvy, soft-spoken and doe-eyed, friendly and kind Afro-Libyan lady. There's a young Tunisian guy named Ariq who also works with them.

As the restaurant is located near my workplace and sells delicious food at a fair price, I have taken to coming there very often. Afro-Caribbean brothers like myself are known for our fondness of spicy foods, but I must say, Middle Eastern food is awesome. Oh, and in case you're wondering who this is, the name is Abraham Durand, but I've taken to calling myself Ibrahim since I embraced Islam.

Six-foot-one, burly and somewhat chubby, with dark brown skin and a thick Afro, that's me in a nutshell. I attend the University of Ottawa, where I study law. Oh, and I'm also a rent-a-cop. Got bills to pay, know what I mean? A lot of young people in the City of Ottawa work dead-end jobs like mine because we have no choice. All the good jobs are taken by uptight, middle-aged government worker types. Life out here sucks, man.

"Bro, you were right, this place is really nice," said my buddy Ahmed Sheikh, a young Arab dude who works in the loading dock of the Blue Store. We sat inside Shawarma Sky, and grabbed a bite. I had my usual plate of rice with plenty of hummus, along with tomatoes, lettuce, beef and chicken. I washed down the whole thing with a Pepsi. Money well spent as far as I'm concerned.

Truth be told, I was feeling a little down that particular day because I read about a Somali man who lived in the Hintonburg area getting killed by the racist brutes of the Ottawa police. Damn, I thought we had better policing than that in Canada. The dude was unarmed, and alone, but they still brutalized him even after he was handcuffed and subdued. I sure as hell hope those racist cops get charged and prosecuted for their evil deeds. Yeah, I was in a foul mood but my buddy Ahmed got my mind off things.

"Told you so, dude," I replied with a wink, and Ahmed shook his head. I like this dude. Ahmed is nineteen years old, and studies business at Algonquin College. He's also dating this tall, fine-looking Indian gal named Angelica Singh, and they make for one cute couple. I encouraged Ahmed's shy self to put the moves on Angelica, and now they're dating. Ahmed and I are good friends...and more. Yes, that kind of more. We've been messing around, you see.

Alright, ladies and gentlemen, I got something to confess to you today. I am bisexual. I do it with guys and gals. Ahmed here is one of those fellas I've been known to have some, ahem, "male bonding" moments with, shall we say? Nobody knows about us and as far as I'm concerned, it's nobody's damn business. Besides, I live within walking distance of the Blue Store, and Ahmed and I get together regularly for our fun.

Last time we hooked up was one for the ages. Ahmed and I took a shower together, then got our freak on in the washroom. I bent the young Arab dude over and rolled a condom on my dick, then slid right into his ass. Ahmed is a power bottom all the way and the dude loves the feel of my long, thick and dark dick in his ass. Dude is a real screamer too, and he went nuts as I drilled him.

"Harder, man," Ahmed cried out, and I happily obliged my favorite Arabian stud by showing him what us Afro-Caribbean men are made of. I fucked Ahmed real good, and came like twice, then pulled out. Afterwards, we cleaned ourselves up with soap and water, then got dressed and went back to the living room to chill. We drank some wine, watched a couple of episodes of The Rock's new TV series Ballers, then Ahmed left. Good times, folks. Good times.

"Ibrahim, I want to talk to you about something, Angelica and I are getting serious and she wants me to be exclusive," Ahmed said, and I smiled. Ahmed is oh so predictable. Like most bisexual men, he prefers the ladies and wants to lead a straight life. Me? I'm not a big believer in relationships after the string of lousy ones I've had. Call me cynical if you want.

"Say no more, my friend, I am happy for you both, I wish you and Angelica all the best," I said, and I raised my bottle of Pepsi and Ahmed smiled and nodded, visibly relieved. Poor Ahmed, if he only knew what he's getting into. A bisexual man is not a straight man. Even if you find the female body sexually arousing and enjoy sex with the ladies, your desires for man-to-man action won't magically go away. Trust me, they won't. I've been there.

A couple of years ago, I was involved with a tall, fine and curvy young Haitian woman named Anne Junie. I really thought Anne Junie was the one for me. I met this cutie at the Silver City movie theater, and we watched the movie The Dictator together. Since that day, we exchanged numbers, and began hanging out regularly. I was born on the island of Haiti, and was thrilled to be seeing one of my people. Anne Junie was cool as can be. The kind of chick who thinks it's a good idea to walk into a porno shop with you during a date, and gets frisky in the movie theater. Definitely my kind of gal.

"So, Salomon, you're bisexual? I don't care, I still like you," Anne Junie told me, as I sat her down inside the Blair Mall food court, and told her the truth about me, one fateful Friday afternoon. I smiled and Anne Junie took my hand and squeezed it. I was totally in love with this Haitian cutie, I swear. A woman who accepts your hidden side, what more can a man like me hope for? I thought Anne Junie was the one for me. Unfortunately, things didn't work out. Since then, I've been jaded. Don't like it? Sue me.

Yeah, Ahmed and I stopped hanging out shortly after that. I continued coming to Shawarma Sky, though. I made friends with the lovely lady Nafisa, and that young Tunisian dude, Ariq. I think I got a bit too friendly with Nafisa, for her husband Malik began giving me the evil eye whenever I came in. Seriously, I am not imagining it. Why is this dude hating on me so much? All because I banter with Nafisa while waiting on my food.

Alright, there might be more to it than that. Okay, one time I was about to exit the restaurant, shortly before closing time, and Nafisa was outside, grabbing a few chairs, and I got up and held the door open for her. Oh, and I also held the door for her one afternoon when I was just about to leave to return to the Blue Store, since my lunch hour was over. Look, I'm a new Muslim and all but I know the norms of the Islamic world. A dude can kill you for even looking at his wife wrong. I stopped going to the restaurant to avoid trouble.

"Ibrahim, what's going on? We've missed you over there," Nafisa said to me one afternoon. I stood at the door of the Blue Store, in my uniform, paying attention to the seemingly endless stream of clients coming in and leaving. As a loss prevention officer, it's my job to ask for a receipt and verify that the client did indeed pay for his or her purchase...when the alarm at the door beeps. I totally did not see the lovely Nafisa until the tall, curvy Hijabi sidled up to me.

"Oh, salaam, sister, I miss you guys too, I just took a few days off," I lied, and I smiled at Nafisa, who shook her head. Look, I hated lying to her, but there was simply no way I was going to tell her that her creepy husband and his passive-aggressive stuff made me uncomfortable. I mean, the other day, I sat down at Shawarma Sky while grabbing a bite, and the dude slapped my shoulder hard, and then greeted me with a smile even faker than that creep Donald Trump's, which is saying a lot.

"Well, I hope you come back soon, I missed you," Nafisa said in that soft voice of hers, her brown eyes smoldering. I nodded graciously and wished her a good day. Nafisa walked out of the Blue Store with her purchases, and try as I might, I couldn't help admiring her tall, curvaceous figure as she made her exit. Hot damn. Mama's got a booty! You know a woman is smoking hot when she moves even a switch-hitter like me.

I went home that night dog-tired after a long shift. When you're a young Black man working as a security guard in a predominantly White neighborhood, you're bound to encounter rude, passive-aggressive, racist bozos who don't like you. The Blue Store is located in a middle-class area of Nepean, and the locals often have a chip on their shoulder when I ask them for a receipt. Whatever. If you beep while exiting, I don't care if you're Black or White, male or female, straight or gay, I will ask to see your receipt. Get over it.

As I lay on my bed, I thought about the events of the day. I thought of Ahmed's lithe brown body, his muscular chest, his wiry sexiness, and of course his hard dick and cute ass. Amazingly, my dick remained unimpressed. What the fuck? Usually, just thinking about my young Arab co-worker gets me hard. I tried to sleep but couldn't. My mind raced, and I thought of using my cell to look up some porn but instead, I thought of Nafisa, with her tall, curvy body and big brown ass. Amazingly, I got harder than a rock. What the fuck? Damn.

Horny as hell, and unable to sleep, I went on Facebook, and looked up Nafisa. Much to my surprise, I found her easily, and noticed that we had a friend in common, Hassan, this Somali bus driver I met a while ago. I gave into temptation and looked at Nafisa's profile. Imagine the look on my face when I saw her relationship status listed as "separated". Damn, I thought she was married and happily so, but I was wrong. Smiling, I sent her a poke, then went to sleep.

"Salaam, Mr. Poker," Nafisa said to me, in a message in my Facebook inbox, the very next morning. Smiling, I greeted her, and then, much to my surprise, she asked for my number. What do you think I did? I gave it to her. Ladies and gentlemen, that's how it all began. The way I see it, Nafisa is legally separated from her husband Malik, and therefore fair game. The bozo's loss is my incredible gain. I went after the tall, lovely and curvaceous Afro-Libyan beauty like a shark smelling blood. Hey, at the end of the day, I'm a Caribbean dude. That's how we do things.

"How in hell do I get myself into these situations?" I whispered, mostly to myself, and I was soon silenced as Nafisa sat on my face, smothering my face with that thick, golden brown Afro-Libyan booty of hers. After weeks of discrete flirtation, and a few meet-ups far from Nepean, Nafisa finally came by my place one morning for some fun. We got our freak on in my living room.

Nafisa was something else, ladies and gentlemen.. The tall, Hijab-wearing gal was hiding a fantastic body under those traditional clothes of hers. Came to my door with a coy smile on her face, and told me she wasn't wearing any panties. I invited her inside and we got freaky. Off came our clothes, and then the fun began. The lady sat on my face like a queen on her throne, and I eagerly inhaled the scent of Nafisa's clean asshole. Immediately I began eating her ass like a hungry man devouring a meal after facing starvation...

"Ibrahim, shut up and eat my ass," Nafisa said, and I was more than happy to oblige the lady's request. I licked Nafisa's asshole, and fingered her wet pussy. Soon I had the lady moaning and groaning as I pleasured her. My oral skills are among the best, and I've received compliments from both sexes in that department. I propped Nafisa on all fours, face down and ass up, and then continued munching on her butt hole...after giving that thick booty a firm slap, which caused her to laugh.

"You are amazing, my dear," I said to Nafisa as I laid her on the carpet, spread her shapely thighs and then gave her moist, hairy pussy a tongue path. Lying on her back, Nafisa licked her lips as I pleasured her. I flicked my tongue over her clit, and worked two fingers into her pussy, twisting this way and that. The lovely lady shuddered and sighed, then begged me for more. I buried my face between her legs, and then ate out Nafisa's pussy until she came not once but twice. Yup, I got it like that.

"Oh wow, Ibrahim, you really know your way around a woman's body," Nafisa said haltingly, a few moments later. I grinned and nodded, then drew her close. Nafisa straddled me, and stroked my already hard dick. I held my breath as Nafisa bent low and took me into her mouth, then began sucking my dick. In no time I was harder than a rock.

"Let's do this," I said, and Nafisa grinned as I gave her thick ass a firm slap. I thrust into her, and Nafisa's pussy gripped my dick tightly. My breasts swayed this way and that, and I sucked on her nipples as Nafisa began riding me. We took our sweet time as we fucked, or made love, whatever you want to call it. At some point, I put Nafisa on all fours, and thrust into her. Nafisa squealed and made that thick ass jiggle as I fucked her, and I can't tell you how much it turned me on. I'm definitely an ass man, I just don't discriminate based on race or gender.

"I'm glad I met you, Ibrahim, thank you," Nafisa said to me, a couple of hours later. I smiled at her and nodded, and then, without a goodbye or a kiss, she left my place and drove away. I stood there, and smiled, then I went back to my living room to catch up on Season Two of The Rock's new series Ballers. Nafisa's post-sex behavior didn't surprise me. Not in the least. Hijab-wearing mature Muslim ladies can have casual sex too. Get real. Peace.