Suleiman and Marie of Congo

As Salaam Alaikum, dear friends. My name is Suleiman, and I’m a Haitian Muslim brother living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. You don’t find a lot of Haitian Muslims out there but I am one of them. I converted back in the summer of 2015, from a Christian background. Life has been okay in the few years since my conversion. Just a big and tall young Black man trying to eke out a living in the Canadian Capital, you know?

No matter where I go, drama seems to follow me. At my new job at a big box store in the environs of Laurentian, where I work security, I have my share of haters, including a little old white lady named Helen whom I think likes to put stuff in co-workers food to make them ill. I suspect Helen of being something akin to an Angel of Death, like in those crime shows. I can’t prove it. The security camera dude says he hasn’t seen her do anything wrong. Oh well, guess I’ll have to wait and see…

At my school, Carleton University, I seem to have the wrong opinions on everything according to some people, especially the gender politics crowd. Go figure. That’s what a brother gets for not being one of those who follows the crowd. At home I have to deal with my Pakistani landlady and her weird strictness, but she’s not all bad so I learned to deal. Life is like that, I guess…

The other day I went by this big box store located at the Ottawa Train Yards area, where I used to work security. One of the things about working security is that you see it all. The racist men and the racist women. The psychopaths. The entitled ones. The crazy ones. They all come into Walmart, Winner’s and Loblaw’s and other local stores to shop, and if you’re the uniformed guy at the door, you can bet your sweet ass that they’re going to be coming for you.

I was about to enter the photo lab, where a certain friendly old Arab man whom I am acquainted with works, when someone called out my name. I turned around, hoping it wasn’t one of those mean-ass employees bahis firmaları whom I couldn’t stand. I left my security gig at this big box store because one of the customer service managers, a chubby Arab fucker named Ahmad, sent four of his thug-ass friends after me. I had to fight them off. I asked my manager to transfer me to another store not long after that.

“Suleiman, I thought that was you, don’t you remember me? It’s Marie Bemba,” came a female voice, and I turned around to face the source of said voice. A tall, chubby, dark-skinned and short-haired Black woman in her forties stood before me, a big smile on her face. The lady looked indeed familiar. I vaguely remembered Marie, the big-booty sister who would come in late in my shift because she was part of the store’s overnight crew.

“Hello, Marie, happy holidays,” I said, feeling a bit funny about saying those words. Is it okay to say happy holidays on December 27? Or does the holiday season extend until the first of January? I don’t know. I smiled at Marie and held out my hand for her to shake, and she batted my hand away and gave me an impromptu hug instead. I don’t like random people hugging me but if I said I minded feeling Marie’s curves against my body, I would have been lying…

“Happy holidays, Suleiman, I know you’re Muslim but I hope you had a good holiday,” Marie said, and I saw that twinkle in her brown eyes and smiled. The lady looked me up and down, then licked her lips. This gesture definitely registered with a certain part of my masculine anatomy, if you know what I mean. I returned Marie’s smile and checked her out, then nodded almost imperceptibly.

“I had a good holiday, just hanging around here to check up on some friends, good to see you Marie, you look good, sister,” I said, totally flirting with this fine-looking Black woman who was at least a decade and a half older than me. I am twenty six years old ( yeah, I should have finished university already, sue me ) and kaçak iddaa I don’t mind dealing with older women. In fact, I got a thing for fine-looking older Black women like Marie here…

“Oh, goody, say, Suleiman, we should keep in touch,” Marie said, and she took out her cell phone. I knew the jig was up, and punched her number into my cellphone, then sent her a ping so she could save mine. Marie winked at me and brushed her hand against my arm before walking away. I watched her as she headed to the backroom of the big box store, sashaying that thick Black ass in her too-tight jeans and looking mighty good doing it. Ladies and gentlemen, this brother wants to smash. What’s a brother to do?

“I am going to smash your fine booty, Miss Marie,” I said to myself as I watched Marie head straight to the store’s back room door. Before entering she turned around, and even though a distance of three hundred feet separated us, I knew she saw me still staring at her. And I swear I knew that she smiled. The lady knows what she is doing and if she wants some of this, then she is definitely going to frigging get it!

“Hmm, you taste good,” I said to Marie, as I laid her on her couch, and spread her thick dark thighs wide open. I inhaled her womanly fragrance and looked up at her. Marie smiled and nodded at me, while pinching the areolas of her huge breasts. I resumed eating her pussy, not believing my damn luck. I’d called Marie on my day off, two days after we ran into each other, and invited her to grab coffee. Marie didn’t feel like coffee but invited me over for some tea. And now I’m eating her sweet pussy…

“Hmm, you got a wicked tongue, Suleiman,” Marie remarked, and I continued to lather her pussy with my tongue. Later, I put Marie on all fours and proceeded to worship her thick, round and deliciously dark booty. Marie giggled as I smacked her ass, then spread her cheeks and began licking her booty hole. A lot of Black men cannot admit that they eat kaçak bahis female ass, but I am not one of them. This brother loves the Black female posterior…

After I gave her booty hole a tongue bath, tasting her booty juices, Marie rewarded me by grabbing my long and thick dark dick and sucking on it like a damn lollipop. I watched her head bob up and down as she sucked my dick, and she took her sweet time doing it. Marie sucked my dick and caressed my balls, massaging them gently, and I didn’t resist her when I was close to blowing up. As I came, Marie sucked me dry, stunning the hell out of me…

There’s a certain art to making love to ‘seasoned sisters’, as I call fine older Black women like Marie. This beautiful sister, whom I would later learn came from the Democratic Republic of Congo, definitely taught me a thing or two. She took her sweet time riding me, and I kissed her full lips, caressed her large, firm breasts, and grasped her thick ass cheeks as I thrust into her. I was amazed that her hot, practically pulsating pussy gripped my dick like a vise. Nice surprise, let me tell you…

“You need this thick Black ass, don’t you?” Marie squealed, as I put her on all fours and fucked her from behind. This was the highlight of the evening, let me tell you. I laughed and nodded, then smacked Marie’s thick derriere as I slammed my dick into her. I would have liked to pull Marie’s hair while banging her but her hair is super short. Still, I didn’t care. Watching her big dark booty swallow my rod as I fucked her turned me on like you would not believe. I banged the hell out of Marie, until we both lay, exhausted, on the carpet at the foot of her living room couch…

“My dear Marie, you are amazing,” I said to Marie, and she nodded and smiled, clearly pleased with my choice of words. I am not much for pillow talk but I felt happy, and so did Marie. I, Suleiman of Haiti, can definitely see myself visiting the east end of Ottawa more often, if only to hang out with the lovely lady Marie Bemba. Hell, if Congolese MILFs are anything like her, then I just might visit her nation one of these days. This Haitian Muslim brother has always wanted to see Africa…