Somali Femdom For Haitian Men

As a six-foot-one, curvy and sexy, chocolate-hued Muslim woman in a world that worships skinny Judeo-Christian White girls, I challenge many people's notions of beauty. Hell, I challenge a lot of people's notions about beauty, intelligence and power. I can't help it, though. Part of my burden as a strong Black Muslim woman. My name is Khadija Ismail and I'm a young Somali-Canadian woman living in the City of Calgary, Alberta. Got one hell of a story to share with you, ladies and gentlemen.

My parents, Ali and Mariam Ismail hail from the town of Mogadishu, Federal Republic of Somalia, and I was born and raised right here in provincial Alberta. I consider myself as Canadian as anyone, and that includes the redneck who's our nation's current Prime Minister. Yeah, I said it. Doesn't stop people from asking me about my origins daily, though. Price I for being a person of color in western Canada, I guess.

I'm in the MBA program at the University of Calgary, and at all times I'm surrounded by annoying White guys and Asian guys who want a piece of me while finding me intimidating due to my Islamic faith, my height, skin color and intelligence. I ignore these fools because they are literally and figuratively beneath me. I'm not one of those sisters who wants to share their body and their life with men of other races.

Why? There are many good reasons, but this is the one I will give you. Folks, I live in a world full of racism. Those same White guys who often tell me how exotically beautiful they find me also casually speak of their dislike for other minorities in my presence. Bunch of bigoted and insecure bozos if you ask me. Thanks but no thanks. This chocolate diva likes her chocolate. No damn vanilla for me, thank you very much.

When I'm not at school, I work at a small bookstore in the south end of Calgary. The owner, Sheila Jacobson, is originally from the island of Jamaica. This kindly old Jamaican lady pays me sixteen bucks per hour to run the bookstore. We sell everything from African-American and Afro-Caribbean fiction to mainstream fiction books, nonfiction and the like. There aren't a lot of bookstores like us anywhere in the Prairies, and we do alright for ourselves in the City of Calgary.

We have a small, dedicated readership. One young man has been coming around the store a lot lately. As in at least once a day. Andre Mathieu, a six-foot-four, burly and light-skinned young man with greenish eyes hidden behind thick, nerdy glasses and a messed up Afro that he needs to do a better job taking care of. The tall, nerdy mixed brother often goes to the BDSM and Human Sexuality section. Submissive punk, I thought to myself, smiling.

The other day, Andre Mathieu bought the book The Black Dominatrix Chronicles by Teejay LeCapois. The owner and I like to buy novels and anthologies by obscure Black writers on Amazon.com and Teejay LeCapois is one of the best. I've read some of his works and trust me, they're excellent. This book was hot, Andre said to me, in one of his feeble attempts at conversation.

Honestly, I knew that Andre Mathieu had a crush on me, and to amuse myself, I flirted right back. You like BDSM I take it? I shot back, looking right into his greenish eyes. If Andre took better care of himself and dressed better, he'd look really handsome. Clad in a faded old gray sweatshirt over a brown silk shirt with a high collar and Black silk pants, Andre Mathieu looked like an old professor, rather than a twenty-something young man. Dude's momma must be buying his clothes, poor thing.

I'm trying to learn more about Black sexuality and culture, Andre replied, and I nodded understandingly. I'd already figured out that Andre Mathieu was mixed, and probably raised by the White side of his family. My suspicions were confirmed when he told me that his parents, Paul Mathieu and Caroline Windsor, were divorced, and that he lived in Calgary's west end with his mother. My dad is Haitian, Andre said, and I nodded gently.

I'm going to make you my bitch, I thought to myself as Andre humbly asked me to join him for lunch during my break. Take all the time you need, my boss Sheila said, as I walked out of the store with Andre. We went to Maison Baabur, this chic Djibouti-owned and operated restaurant located not far from the shop.

Let me introduce you to Somali and Djibouti cuisine, I said to a nervous-looking Andre. We sat down and ate, and over the course of the next hour, I got to know Andre a bit better. In this fine Northeast African restaurant, surrounded by people of color and a handful of Whites, Andre Mathieu the nerd finally relaxed.

As I sipped on my Pepsi, Andre told me about his civil engineering studies at the University of Calgary, and how out of place he often felt as a mixed-race person in both Black and White settings. Just be yourself my brother, I said gently, laying my hand on his. Andre smiled and nodded, and not for the first time I noticed that the brother had a really sweet smile.

Andre paid for lunch with his bright red ScotiaBank debit card, and I thanked him for dinner and then we left the restaurant together. I gave him my number, and then hugged Andre goodbye at the bookstore's entrance. See you soon cutie, I said, gently touching his face. Andre smiled nervously, nodded and then walked away.

That's how it all began, ladies and gentlemen. My whirlwind romance with Andre Mathieu, the biracial nerd. We discussed his growing interest in BDSM, and one night, after the movies, I took Andre home for some wicked fun. I showed him a thing or two in the bedroom, and I must say, the biracial brother had a nice thick dick and licked my sweet pussy better than I thought he would. That's why I rewarded Andre by making his BDSM fantasy come true...

You should have seen the look on Andre Mathieu's face when I raised his legs in the air and pushed my strap-on dildo into his sweet mixed-race ass. Ready or not here I come, I said with a nasty grin. I hummed my favorite song as I fucked my latest conquest up his ass. Looking into Andre's green eyes, I saw the look of surrender.

You're my bitch Andre, I whispered as I stroked his big ole dick while plunging my strap-on dildo into his well-lubricated asshole. Andre Mathieu moaned as I fucked him and stroked his dick. I love fucking men in the ass with my strap-on dildo, but I only fuck Black men. I figured that White guys have enough dominatrix types catering to them. Black men need to get fucked in the ass by strap-on wielding mistresses too.

I fucked Andre real good, jamming that strap-on dildo up his ass as the sexy mixed brother squealed in delight and cried out my name. I continued fucking Andre until he came, and when he did, I took his cum and smeared some on his chest and on his handsome face. I pulled the dildo out of his ass, and replaced it with a butt plug. Smiling, I continued with the next phase of my plan.

Prior to banging Andre's ass with my strap-on dildo, I sucked the mixed stud's dick and then impaled my hairy, wet Somali pussy on his awesome rod. Then I rode Andre Mathieu good and hard, and came twice. After pegging Andre good and proper, I sat on his face, and ordered the biracial stud to lick my pussy and asshole. Hungrily Andre licked my cunt and asshole. This he did splendidly for over half an hour. To reward Andre, I farted on his face. Let the mixed stud inhale my womanly fumes.

That was hot, Andre told me, holding me tight and kissing me as we shared a shower, much later. I know, I said, giggling as Andre hugged me, caressed me and kissed me under the warm water. I haven't had a man in my life for ages. This half Haitian and half White stud with the emerald gaze and nerdy demeanor just might be what the doctor ordered. I think I'll keep him around for a while. Let's go back to bed, I whispered, and Andre Mathieu nodded most eagerly.