Pakistani Femdom For Somali Man

"Give me that sweet ass," I whispered into my husband Kader Hussein's ear as I playfully smacked that cute Somali butt of his while working my strap-on dildo deep inside of him. Down where the sun doesn't shine, as they say. I had Kader right where I wanted him, and we both knew it.

"Slow down Amal," Kader said, groaning as I continued to dominate the hell out of him. Bent over the kitchen counter, his six-foot-tall, wiry and muscular body in a wonderfully vulnerable position as he faced away from me, Kader was simply beautiful.

We're so different Kader and I, it's not even funny. I'm five-foot-six, pleasantly plump, with long black hair, dark bronze skin and light brown eyes. Kader is a fitness fanatic who practically lives at the gym and I'm a couch potato. He's a numbers guy and I'm a self-styled "woman of letters" concerned with social issues. Yet somehow, we got together and stayed together.

I must admit that, six months ago, when I discovered that my darling husband Kader Hussein had sites like Men In Pain and Divine Bitches bookmarked on our home computer, I was a bit peeved. I'm a fairly liberal woman as far as sex goes, since I was raised in a secular Pakistani-Canadian household in Toronto, Ontario.

My husband Kader Hussein was born and raised in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and moved to Canada in his late teens. He grew up in an Islamist country. He's quite rigid on a lot of things, especially certain aspects of human sexuality. That's why it's so much fun for me to help Kader come to terms with the fact that he finds "femdom" or female domination sinfully sexy.

Gently I caressed his chocolate-hued body, and playfully licked his ear, causing Kader to tremble all over. I love it when Kader gets like this, seriously. It took me a while to work through Kader's macho bullshit, and slowly but surely, I got him to open up to me.

"I'm just giving you what you want dear husband," I whispered innocently, gently kissing Kader's cheek. Slowly Kader let out his breath, thinking I was about to relent. Painful mistake, I thought wickedly as I grabbed Kader by the throat, and thrust my dildo deep inside of him.

"Oh fuck," Kader cried out, and his gorgeous, masculine body trembled as I gripped him by the hips and began fucking him in earnest. Hard and fast I pumped my strap-on dildo into Kader's well-lubricated ass. I fucked him hard, just the way he liked it.

"Do you want me to slow down?" I asked, without pausing, and Kader vehemently shook his head, and a wicked smile crept into my face as I continued fucking him. Reaching for Kader's dick, I grasped it and stroked it with one hand while guiding my strap-on dildo up his ass with the other. I continued like this until a sharp cry escaped Kader's lips, and I slowed down imperceptibly.

"I'm cool," Kader said, and I smiled at those words, reminiscent of the first time we met at Ryerson University two years ago. I pulled out of Kader, and had to catch my favorite skinner bugger, for his legs appeared to fail him after the merciless fucking I just unleashed upon him.

Kader turned around, and I wrapped my arms around his torso in a loving embrace. I looked into his eyes, and without a word being spoken, we kissed passionately. Kader took my face in his hands, and kissed me, and we both smiled at each other before giggling like a pair of idiots.

"Wallahi, I'm so fortunate to have a wife like you," Kader said, and I smiled and shrugged. Hearing those words from my beloved husband warms my heart. I try my best, what can I say? I am seriously kinky and open-minded as far as sex goes, and Kader and I complete each other.

When we first met, and clicked, a lot of people said that Kader and I would never work out. My parents, Ahmed and Meera Khan are immigrants from Pakistan, and our family does hail from a Sunni Muslim background, but we're not exactly a very religious bunch.

By contrast, Kader's parents, Mohamed and Choukri Hussein, are very religious, like the majority of Somali Muslim immigrants living in the G.T.A. I think that's why Kader has so many issues when it comes to human sexuality.

I still remember that time when, while we walked through the Eaton Center during one of our awkward early dates, Kader saw a couple of gay guys walk out of bookstore together, hand in hand, after exchanging a peck on the lips, and he stared at them like they were Martians.

"That's haram," Kader said, staring daggers at the gay couple as they headed for the escalator. I smiled at Kader and shook my head, then told him that in liberal Ontario, Canada, there was much that would shock him as a newcomer from a Muslim country.

"This place is different but you'll get used to it," I said confidently to Kader, who shook his head in disbelief. Doubtless Kader thought at the time that he'd never change or grow, and he was absolutely wrong. He's not the same guy he was when he arrived in the City of Toronto from Somalia, that's for damn sure.

"There is much about Canada that I like but I doubt this place will ever feel like home to me," Kader said wistfully, as we sat in the food court and dined on some delicious Chinese food ( sans pork ) and Pepsis. I looked at this tall, well-dressed and serious young black man who sat across from me, and sighed.

"Give yourself time," I said, smiling faintly at Kader, and feeling dangerously close to exasperated with his way of seeing things. When my parents moved to the City of Toronto, Ontario, from our hometown of Turbat, in the Balochistan region of Pakistan, I missed home but I was also enamored with life in Canada, our new country.

"If you say so my dear," Kader said to me, an odd look on his handsome face, and then, right then and there, the usually taciturn Somali stud did something I was totally not expecting. Especially given his touch-me-not cultural ways and whatnot. Kader took my hand and brought it to his lips, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Well about that," I said, giggling like a schoolgirl, as Kader winked at me, then told me to hurry up because our movie was starting in twenty minutes. That night, as I walked through the most crowded mall in Toronto with Kader, hand in hand, my fate was sealed. I had fallen in love with the Somali stud, and nothing on earth would change my mind.

I, Amal Khan, the future Mrs. Hussein, fell in love with my dear Kader in those halcyon days at Ryerson University. We had a whirlwind romance on this stuffy urban campus, the practical and tradition-minded mathematics student and the dreamy aspiring social worker. The ultimate odd couple, I think. Most of my friends didn't think Kader and I would last.

We proved everyone wrong when, during Ramadan 2013, Kader and I got married at a nice little Masjid in Mississauga. We exchanged vows in a quiet ceremony attended by our families and close friends, and it was a wondrous affair. Yeah, what can I say?

"Stop daydreaming Amal," Kader says, playfully snapping his fingers inches from my face. I smile, and then giggle as Kader props me up on the kitchen counter, lifting me effortlessly. Without another word, Kader spread my plump legs wide open and buried his face between my thighs.

"Oh my," I whispered, smiling happily as Kader began licking and fingering my pussy like there was no tomorrow. I love it when he does that, seriously. Kader ate my pussy like a hungry man, and while going down on me, he caressed my plump thighs. I relaxed and enjoyed as my hubby took his sweet time while pleasuring me.

"Babe you haven't felt anything yet," Kader whispered in my ear, much later. Without further ado, Kader bent me over the kitchen counter, and eased his long and thick dick into me from behind. Gripping my wide hips tightly, Kader began fucking me in earnest.

"Harder please," I whispered, delighting in the feel of Kader's thick dick invading my cunt. Truth be told, if there's one thing I love more than bending Kader over and stuffing him with my strap-on dildo, it's riding that magnificent dick of his. I've had it in every hole in my body, religious restrictions be damned, and I honestly can't get enough of it.

"Have it your way," Kader said, laughing, and he playfully bit my ear and smacked my butt while thrusting his dick deeper into my cunt. Laughing, I pressed my thick Pakistani derriere against Kader's groin, driving his fuck stick deeper inside of me. I always give as good as I get, and my hubby loves this about me.

"Fuck me Baba," I whispered in that coy, oh so slutty tone that I knew never failed to drive my sweet Kader absolutely nuts. That's when the frenzy began, and he slammed his dick into my cunt, his manhood stabbing my insides as he fucked me like there was no tomorrow. Hard and fast Kader pumped his dick into me, and I welcomed the onslaught, moaning deeply and begging for more.

At some point, my knees suddenly buckled and Kader reached for me but didn't catch me on time so we, um, kind of tumbled and fell on the floor. Undaunted, we continued with our fun. Seriously, Kader and I went at it until exhaustion claimed us, and we lay side by side on the cold tiles. Sweaty, smelly, and happy as can be.

"I'm glad I married you," Kader said, laughing, and I smiled and kissed him. Kader got up, and pulled me to my feet, then bodily lifted me off the floor without warning. I smiled nervously, and the wicked grin on Kader's dark, handsome face made my heart skip a beat.

"Let's go take a shower, sweets, you stink," Kader said, laughing wickedly as I playfully whacked him upside his head and pretended to struggle. Once we got to the washroom, however, we didn't get cleaned up. At least not till much, much later. I, um, distracted Kader. What can I say? I've got it like that.