Maimuna the Somali Milf

What's up, people? I smile to myself as I greet before this way, instead of saying As Salam Alaikum, the typical Muslim greeting. I blame my lover Stefano Saint-Mathieu for that. The tall, burly and roughly handsome Haitian has a certain effect on me, what can I say? The things I do for love, I guess. My name is Maimuna Jibril and I'm a tall, curvy and sexy, 36-year-old ( in a couple of months I will be 37 ) Somali Muslim immigrant woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Got another extremely hot story to share with you.

The other day, Stefano and I went to the City of Gatineau, Quebec, and visited the Canadian Museum of Civilizations. Truth be told, I was nervous about going into the region of Quebec because French Canadians, unlike the rest of Canada, are quite outspoken in their hatred for visible minorities, especially Muslims. Now, don't get me wrong, white Canadians of all stripes hate minorities, and hide it behind their fake smiles but French Canadians are very open about it.

I'm a Hijab-wearing and dark-skinned woman with a foreign accent, Quebec definitely isn't the place for me. Stefano told me that it was time to face my fears, and promised me that he'd protect me if things got dicey. I was still nervous but with Stefano's assurances, I decided to take a chance. Life's a risk, after all. Might as well live a little instead of playing it safe all the damn time. Don't you agree?

Stefano was born on the island of Haiti and raised in provincial Ontario, Canada. The brother speaks English and French without any discernible accents. He's as Canadian as anyone. Me? I feel awkward at times. The French I learned from my cousins in the Republic of Djibouti is quite different from what Canadians speak. I speak Parisian French and it's completely and utterly different from Quebecer French, which is hard on my ears, to tell you the truth.

Hand in hand, Stefano and I boarded the number eight OC Transpo bus at the Rideau Shopping Center and sat in the middle. The bus ride from downtown Ottawa to Gatineau didn't take long, and the Museum of Civilizations was right there on the border between the small town of Gatineau, Quebec, and the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I smiled to myself, and felt contentment and peace as Stefano took my hand and brought it to his lips. The Haitian stud is so romantic, quite unlike the Somali guys I grew up.

As a Muslim woman, raised in Somalia, an Islamic country, I'm not used to romance. I'm not saying that we Muslims don't love, we're as human as anyone else. I'm just saying that in Islamic countries, the rules of behavior for men and women are strict, and prevent us from doing certain things. Marriages are arranged, and dating isn't something that we do. I was wedded to my long-dead husband Ali and produced a daughter, Amina, whom I loved, but I never felt romantic love for my husband although I cared about him.

Romantic love isn't something that Muslim women living in predominantly Islamic countries dare think of as their daily reality. It's not that Muslim men are hard and unfeeling, it's just that they're brainwashed by all the strict rules of Islam. It's so sad, really. Islamic rules set up barriers between men and women, and prevent us from making true connections. That's just the way of things in Muslim countries, from Bangladesh to Somalia, from Saudi Arabia to Iran. Welcome to our world.

Stefano loves me and makes me feel alive like never before. Small wonder I fell in love with him, even though Stefano is 27 years old, almost a decade younger than me, and a lapsed Christian, while I'm 36 years old and a practicing Muslim. Stefano calls me his Somali goddess, his chocolate MILF, and I find this Frat-type talk endearing rather than annoying or demeaning. The lad clearly cherishes me, and I thank my lucky stars that the two of us met.

The OC Transpo bus crossed the bridge separating Quebec from Ontario, and I looked at the water underneath us. It was around noon, and the sun was high in the sky on this frosty day in late February. We got off at the Museum, and went there. Once we got there, Stefano took out his CIBC debit card and paid for our tickets, then we went inside.

Proudly, I linked my arm with Stefano's as we walked around the museum. The exhibits were lovely, filled with everything from Aboriginal Canadian artworks to European artifacts, African sculptures and ancient Egyptian artifacts. I smiled to myself as I recognized a piece from Northeast Africa. I'm a Muslim woman, and Islam is the only religion I follow, though I have some basic respect for Christians and Jews.

Still, I was quite familiar with the Animist beliefs that some people in the land of Ethiopia, particularly the Oromo people, still practice to this very day. Ethiopians are predominantly Orthodox Christians and we Somalis are predominantly Sunni Muslims so we don't get along but I know a lot about their culture. Plus, lots of Somalis live in Ethiopia. Long before the Abrahamic religions began spreading around the Middle East and the vastness of Africa, we Africans had our own faiths. Cool, I find that very interesting. I'm not changing my religion, though.

Stefano Saint-Mathieu and I walked around the Museum of Civilizations, and just as I expected, most of the visitors were white, even though I saw a few Asians and Arabs here and there. I think Stefano and I were the only black visitors, even though I saw quite a few black security guards and black staff workers in uniform. I guess some things never change in Canada, no matter what part of it you're in. Still, I enjoyed the hell out of my visit, though.

Exactly three hours later, Stefano and I left the Canadian Museum of Civilizations, and boarded the red and white OC Transpo bus going back to the City of Ottawa. We left Quebec behind, and once we got home, I took Stefano and thanked him properly for a wonderful afternoon. First, I fed him some of my delicious Lahooh with Suqaar and eggs, along with salty buttered rice, goat meat and we washed it all down with some cold Pepsis.

Afterwards, Stefano and I went straight to the bedroom, for my Haitian stud was hungry for my Somali pussy after tasting my cuisine. I lay on the bed, clad in my bra, panties and Hijab, since I know this wickedly naughty combination of outfits turns Stefano on like crazy. The Haitian stud's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when I spread my thick, shapely thighs invitingly, exposing a very obvious target. I winked at Stefano, and the horny young man came to me.

I took Stefano's handsome face in my hands and kissed him, then he began sucking on my tits while fondling them. Off came my bra, and Stefano pulled off my panties, then buried his face between my legs. I licked my lips as Stefano began munching on my pussy. As per his request, I hadn't washed my cunt when I showered this morning. Stefano tells me that he likes the natural scent of a woman's pussy. I found that weird, but I indulged my sexy Haitian lover. Also, Stefano is really into hairy pussies. Mine is pretty hairy and I once felt bad about that because Islamic culture requires women to shave off all body hair below the neck. Well, I threw away my razor because Stefano likes my hairy self. This young Haitian man accepts me with all of my flaws. How could I not love him?

Stefano licked my pussy, teasing my clit with his tongue while his agile fingers wormed their way into my cunt. I cried out in pleasure, for I really, really liked what he was doing to me. My dead husband Ali never licked my pussy. In the isolated Somali village where I grew up, by some miracle I was spared the horror of excision, and my husband thought I was a freak. Most Somali women are circumcised, a barbaric practice which needs to end. I'm one in a million, a Somali woman who is "unmodified".

Stefano finished licking my sweet, hairy pussy, and then turned me around. First, Stefano kissed my thick, round and juicy Somali derriere, and then he began licking my asshole after I spread my ass cheeks for him. Eating female ass, lots of men find that disgusting but Stefano turned me onto it. Now I can't get enough of it, and I absolutely love it when Stefano sticks his tongue into the forbidden depths of my asshole. I swear, I like having my ass licked more than my pussy. This delights my sweet Stefano since the Haitian stud is an ass man in every way!

After giving my pussy and asshole a tongue bath, Stefano and I moved onto more fun stuff. Aloe cream got my ass lubricated nicely enough, and then I got on all fours. Stefano got behind me, and pressed his dick against my asshole. Slowly, carefully, Stefano pushed his dick into my ass. I love anal sex, I'm a Somali Muslim woman and I don't care who knows it. The feel of Stefano's dick in my asshole was deliciously painful, and I absolutely loved it. Stefano fucked my ass with gusto, and I rocked against him, grinding my big butt against his groin, until he came inside of me in an explosion of power and passion.

Stefano and I lay in each other's arms after fucking, or lovemaking, whatever you want to call it. I do love these special moments, after banging, when we're just lying there and talking. I care for Stefano a lot, and I'm honestly falling in love with him, even though our passion for each other kind of scares me sometimes. Stefano wants to introduce me to his family, and I'm scared shitless about that prospect. Still, I'm done living cautiously. I want to be loved, and feel alive, and I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Wish me luck.