From Mauritania With Love

"Yassin, bring your ass back to bed," I call out to my husband Yvon "Yassin" LeConte. I'm badly in need of, well, him, after coming home from hard day at work. I work for the Ontario Ministry of Community Safety & Correctional Services as a corrections officer.

Today was particularly grueling because we had a mini-riot, but we managed to restore order before the end of my shift. Just another day on the job, folks.

The problem started in the lunch room at the correctional facility located right outside Ottawa, over something trivial...

Some bozo spat on the ground as I walked by, apparently that particular inmate, a bald-headed tattooed White dude named Patrick, didn't like seeing women in Hijab working inside the prison. In today's world, a lot of people seem to hate us Muslims and I've learned to be careful.

"Go back to Arabia, rag head bitch," Patrick said angrily as he rose, challenging me in front of everyone. I'm a short, brown-skinned, Hijab-wearing Mauritanian-Canadian Muslim woman, but to some White folks, apparently that means I'm Arab. It's often being said that to be a woman working in law enforcement is to invite trouble, both from crooks and guys with badges. As a result, I've learned to be tough, both with my fellow corrections officers, some of whom are sexist and racist bastards, and some of the inmates in our care.

"Fuck you Patrick," I replied and I walked up to Mr. Big & Tall White Bigot and punched him in the jaw. That's when his Aryan nation buddies jumped in, and my fellow corrections officers came to the rescue, and a full-on brawl/mini-riot ensued. I thank the Most High that I got through that ordeal without a scratch, and made it home safely. Now, if I could get some loving from my husband Yassin Leconte, my favorite convert, that would be great...

With our son Suleiman at his grandparents, my hubby and I have the house to ourselves. Finally. You know what this means. Unfortunately, like the perfectionist that he is, Yassin is fixing something in the basement, or some nonsense. I'll never understand that obsession with this sort of thing, I swear.

"Malia, I'll be right over," Yassin calls back, and I turn off the TV, and get ready. Seductress mode activated... When he comes back, my favorite tall, dark and handsome Haitian-Canadian stud gawks at me, and I smile. I have his attention and then some...

"See what you're missing out on?" I say sexily, and I pull back the bedsheets, and Yassin feasts his eyes on me. As Yassin eyeballs me, I feast my eyes on him. He's so tall, dark-skinned and strong, with a muscular build that athletes would envy. I love the contrast between us. Motherhood had rendered my curvy, brown-skinned body even more voluptuous, and Yassin can't get enough of me.

"Oh my, Malia, you're looking hot," Yassin replies, and he joins me on the bed, and pulls me into his arms.

"Glad you frigging noticed, Yassin," I replied, then I kiss him full and deep, and then just like that, we began our fun. I roll on top of Yassin, and his big strong hands roam all over me, gently caressing my body. I grin as Yassin playfully slaps my thick ass, and then begins to suck on my nipples. I love it when he does that.

"Hmm, yeah," I whisper, and Yassin flicks his tongue over the areolas of my breasts, and I sigh happily, loving what my husband is doing to me.

Yassin propped me up on the bed, with my back against the pillows, and went to work on me.

"Just wait and see, Malia," Yassin said with a conniving smile, and he kissed me, then licked me. Using his tongue, Yassin lathered me from my head to my toes, gently massaging my breasts while I leaned back and enjoyed, loving what he was doing to me.

"Yes sir," I replied, and Yassin spread my thick thighs wide open, and then paused, smiling up at me. I nodded gently, and Yassin buried his handsome face between my legs and began eating my pussy. I love the way he pleasures me with his wicked tongue...

"Hmm, love the way you smell," Yassin whispers, and I grin and nod. Nice to be appreciated...A lot of women like to perfume or deodorize down there but I don't, I like to flaunt my own aroma. Yeah, I'm a peculiar woman, and I'm lucky to be married to a man who loves me the way I am.

"Oh fuck, you're killing me," I shrieked as Yassin teased my pussy with his tongue while fingering me. My man took me to the edge and back, and I cried out, shuddering violently as I came, and he held me tight as I turned into a post-orgasmic, drooling mess. I nodded breathlessly and Yassin grabbed me by the neck and looked into my eyes.

"Gimme that ass Malia," Yassin said in a commanding voice, and all I could do was nod, smile and assume the position...I got on all fours and shook my big ass at Yassin, who grinned and slapped it.

"Oh you're totally going to get it," Yassin hissed at me as he grabbed a bottle of Aveeno cream from the nearby night stand. I was still grinning when Yassin grabbed my ass, spread my cheeks open and began lubricating me. The lotion felt cold against my asshole, but I didn't mind...

"Yes," Yassin said gruffly, and I shuddered as I felt his hard dick press itself against my ass. With a smooth thrust, he entered me. Anal sex is considered haram by most Muslims, and most women seem to have something against it but not me. I love it, live for it, and don't apologize for it. Any of it. If you don't like it you can kiss my thick derriere...

As Yassin gripped my hips and began working his dick up my ass, I fingered my wet pussy, doubling my pleasure. I love the feel of his dick up my ass. It's so much more intense than vaginal sex, let me tell you. Anal sex is more wicked fun, not for bozos, though.

When Yassin propped me up my back, raised my legs in the air and pinched my nipples while working his dick deeper into my ass, I just about lost it.

"Just take this ass, it's yours, just take it," I squealed, and Yassin laughed, and yanked my hands away from my pussy as he plowed into my ass.

"Now that's what you get for being such a sassy, smart-mouthed woman," Yassin said, much later, after wrecking me in the most awesome way.

And you love me for it, I thought as I rested my head against Yassin's hairy chest and he gently kissed my forehead.

I, Malia Messaoud-LeConte, born in the City of Nouakchott, Islamic Republic of Mauritania, am one happy woman. I'm a successful woman, a law enforcement professional, and most importantly, a happy wife and mother. Life is good. I am thankful to the Most High for that. Let the good times roll.