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Egyptian Women Into Black Guys

I love the taste of Arab pussy in the morning, I thought to myself as I spread my sweetie Safiya Mahmoud's thick, sexy legs and inhaled her cunt's sharp scent. Eagerly I buried my face between her legs, and began eating her pussy like a hungry man. The bed shook as Safiya moaned and groaned while I pleasured her.

"Slow down, Yousef, no need to rush," Safiya said, giggling while gently raking her fingers through my hair. I paused, looked up at her and smiled, then resumed what I was doing. A lot of dudes don't like going down on a female, they just want to stick their thing in. I'm not one of these pathetic excuses for men. I'm a passionate brother who gets the job done.

"You got it babe," I said to Safiya, as I teased her clitoris with my tongue while sliding my fingers into her pussy. In my twenty seven years upon this earth, I've been with quite a few ladies. Somali, Irish-Canadian, Persian, and even Hindu, I've had them all, you might say. There's something hot and intimate about burying one's face in a woman's portal, and tasting her sweet essence. I discovered this pleasure almost a decade ago, and I am quietly addicted to it.

Licking her lips, Safiya looked at me, a look of wanton lust in her golden brown eyes. From the moment I first laid eyes on Safiya, while attending a meeting of the Muslim Scholars Association I knew she was a freak. Tall and curvy, bronze-skinned and dark-eyed, her womanly curves hidden from view by a traditional long skirt, her lovely face framed by a Hijab, Safiya Mahmoud seemed the very picture of Islamic feminine modesty and purity. An experienced wolf like me definitely knew better, though.

That's why I went after Safiya Mahmoud with a passion. Our school, Carleton University, is one of the most racially diverse institutions of higher education in all of Canada. You see a lot of interracial couples. Black guys with white chicks and white guys with Asian chicks are the most common. Lately, I've seen a lot of black chicks with white guys and Arab guys with women of all colors. One thing I've seldom seen in this multicultural mosaic? An Arab woman with a man of African descent.

I've lost count of how many times I've seen Arab guys walking around Ottawa with black women. Seriously, they've got a fondness for the chocolate booty. Doesn't bother me one bit since I don't discriminate when it comes to female flesh, and the gorgeous, yet seemingly out-of-reach Arab ladies seemed just another tasty dish for this connoisseur to sample.

I approached Safiya and introduced myself after the meeting, and that's how it all began. We added each other on Facebook, and it wasn't long before Safiya and I were talking on the phone all the time, and meeting each other for coffee, and sometimes movies. I took my sweet time with her. Safiya is a wounded gal, you see. Starting over in a new country, at the age of thirty one, on her own. That can't be happy. Her former husband, Anwar Mahmoud, was a creep and a control freak. Safiya divorced him shortly after they moved to Ottawa, Ontario, from their hometown of Desouk, Egypt.

With my fearless smile and easy, nonthreatening charm, I slowly wore down Safiya Mahmoud's defences, and lured her to my bed. Now I've got her right where I want her. Stark naked on my bed, legs spread, moaning happily as I licked her sweet pussy. It took me some time, more than six months, but it was absolutely worth it.

"Wallahi that was fun," Safiya said, sighing happily. I looked up at her, smiled and told her that she hadn't felt anything yet. I took Safiya's hands and placed them on my long and thick, dark magic stick. Looking into Safiya's eyes, I smiled and pointed downward. Seriously, I like this chick but sometimes Safiya can be too damn clueless.

"Oh," Safiya said, and then, much to my relief, the Egyptian MILF did as I hoped she would. Grabbing my dick, she got on all fours and began sucking on it with gusto. I smiled and sighed happily. Safiya's head game is second to none, folks. And I say this as a man who's been on the receiving end of a lot of blowjobs.

In no time, Safiya Mahmoud got me hard as a piston. "Let's do this," I said, and took her in a way we both love. Safiya got on all fours, and shook her big brown ass at me, shaking it from side to side. I was hard as hell and ready to fuck. I rolled a condom on my dick, and pushed my dick against Safiya's cunt. A sharp squeal escaped Safiya's lips as I entered her.

Turning around with a wicked gleam in her eyes, Safiya Mahmoud shot me a look. "Give it to me hard, my sweet lion," she whispered, in a slurry, husky tone that set me on edge. I placed my hands on Safiya's hips and thrust into her pussy. The tightness of Safiya's cunt never ceases to amaze me. Seriously, I swear this chick just gets better all the time.

"Fuck me," Safiya said, licking her lips and winking at me. I smacked her big butt, hard, and thrust into her. Seriously, there's nothing I love more than doggy style sex. It's different from all other methods of fucking. I just find it more of a turn on to look at a chick's ass while pounding into her. The only problem being that I cum too fast during doggy style. Safiya and I had been at it for a good thirty minutes when I finally came.

"You always thrill me Yousef," Safiya said, kissing me and caressing my chest hairs as we lay on her bed afterwards. I looked at her, smiled and shrugged. Never been much for pillow talk, to tell you the truth. Still, you got to tell women what they want to hear. I took Safiya's hand in mine and kissed it, then got up and went to the washroom. I always feel like pissing after vigorous sex. I don't know why.

My name is Yousef Kamil and I was born in the City of Galafi, in the northwestern region of the Republic of Djibouti. My parents, Kader and Fowziyah Kamil moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, in the summer of 1990. I was only two at the time, and barely remember anything of our old home in the beautiful nation of Djibouti. I grew up in Canada, but have always been proud of my Northeastern African ancestry.

In this supposedly tolerant and multicultural land, a person of color is reminded that, in the eyes of white Canadians, he's the cultural other time and again. Being confident in one's racial and cultural identity is a form of self-defence against a hostile world if you ask me. I know who I am and I am proud of it, and therefore, haters cannot get to me.

When I speak of haters, I'm not just talking about bigoted "mainstream" Canadians who don't like immigrants of color like myself. I'm also referring to fellow visible minorities, including my fellow Muslims. As a six-foot-one, burly and dark-skinned man, I tend to stand out in Ottawa. The problem is that sometimes the hostility I get is from people of my own Islamic faith.

Safiya Mahmoud and I are both Muslims, but we're from different worlds. The Arab Republic of Egypt and the Republic of Djibouti are both predominantly Muslim nations, but we couldn't be more different. While most Arabs I've met in Ottawa are cool, many harbor negative views of us Africans. You should see the way they look at Safiya and I when we're out together.

We were at the Saint Laurent Mall the other day, coming down from the food court via the escalator, holding hands and talking, when we ran into a trio of young Arab guys. "Fahim lover," one of them called Safiya, after seeing her with me. I confronted the bozo and would have decked him if mall security hadn't been nearby.

"Don't listen to them," Safiya Mahmoud said to me as we made our way to the OC Transpo bus station nearby. I looked at this thirty-something, outwardly pious and proper, yet innately freaky Egyptian woman, and smiled. With so many women of all shapes out there secretly lusting after us black men while shunning us in public, and remaining silent when there's racism against us, I find it hard to trust them.

"I'm glad I met you," I told Safiya Mahmoud that afternoon, and we made our way back to my apartment on Ogilvie. And I absolutely meant it. Safiya and I are just a couple of ordinary people, who happen to be Muslims, in a relationship. We come from a different part of the world, with its own set of rules due to the influence of religion and culture, but we're only human at the end of the day. Wish us luck, please.

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