tagInterracial LoveFatima Durrani of Afghanistan

Fatima Durrani of Afghanistan


After a long day at work, Guillaume Etienne looked forward to finally going home. He'd been dealing with the drones at work long enough. Exiting the Place De Ville building, which housed the Revenue Canada agency for which he worked, Guillaume caught the double-decker 95 bus heading to the West end of Ottawa. At this hour, it was packed, filled with commuters, mostly government workers, along with university students and random transients.

Finding himself sandwiched between a chubby, balding and sweaty bozo who'd clearly never heard of the word deodorant and a dour-faced old white lady with cold eyes who kept staring at him as though he were a Martian, Guillaume sighed deeply. Ah, the wonders of using OC Transpo buses and trains to get around Ottawa, Guillaume thought to himself, chagrined at this state of the affairs.

"I just had to let Fatima have the car, yay for me," Guillaume grumbled to himself as the 95 bus sped toward the West end, leaving the congested hell that was downtown Ottawa on a Friday afternoon. When the bus reached Bayview Station, lots of riders got off, mostly the twenty-somethings. They were headed for the O-Train, presumably going to Carleton University. Guillaume allowed himself a smile as he thought of his precious alma mater.

It wasn't too long ago that Guillaume was a student at Carleton University, where he majored in Business Management and Accounting. As much as he loved his campus, it proved to be somewhat of a challenge, because Guillaume enrolled there three months after moving to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, from his hometown of Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti. Guillaume originally wanted to get into the University of Ottawa, but his grades weren't good enough.

Carleton University was the school which accepted Guillaume's application, a decision which would change his life. While studying there, the young Haitian man met scores of fascinating people hailing from every corner of the globe. Nigerians, Saudis, Afghans, Lebanese, Pakistanis, Kenyans, Somalis, Brazilians, and many more. In this most unique place, Guillaume was destined to meet the love of his life, the lovely Fatima.

Fatima Durrani-Etienne, Guillaume's lovely wife, was currently working for Avaya Canada, the communications giant, at their new facility in the environs of Kanata, Ontario. After graduating from Carleton University with a Computer Science degree, Fatima lucked out and got hired by a rather promising local company with global aspirations. A rather lucrative and demanding job, to be sure. For Fatima, working late several nights a week was the price to pay, hence why Guillaume let her have the car...

As the 95 bus reached Westboro station, a blonde-haired young white woman in a dark tank top and neon-blue booty shorts got on. She grabbed the yellow handlebar of the bus and stood close to Guillaume, even though the bus was only seventy five percent full at this point. The gal was on her cell phone when her stomach grumbled, loud enough for Guillaume to hear it. Shrugging, Guillaume continued to stand, his briefcase stuck between his legs.

"Oh fuck," Guillaume sighed, as a rather distinct and unpleasant odor wafted into the air, coming from the blonde gal's direction. Someone ate bad chili today, Guillaume thought, annoyed and disgusted. The harried workman remembered reading an article online about how female farts smelled worse than most men's. Just another fact of life and casual difference between the sexes, nothing to see here...

After being married to Fatima, who tended to toot quite loosely after she and Guillaume got comfortable with one another, he could attest to the veracity of that article. Fortunately for Guillaume's olfactory systems, and those of his fellow passengers, the gassy blonde gal got off at Baseline Station. Not a moment too soon, Guillaume thought, relieved.

Guillaume hurried to the upper level of the double decker bus and sat at the front. The topmost floor was almost empty. Barely ten passengers, in a space that could fit almost three times that number. How cool was that? Thanking his lucky stars, Guillaume relaxed until the bus reached Barrhaven. He thought of his darling Fatima, and how they first met, ages ago...

"So, Fatima, please tell us, what made you convert from Islam to Christianity?" Guillaume asked, and he looked at the pretty, yet shy-looking young Afghan woman who stood at the front of the meeting/prayer group. Five-foot-eight, somewhat chubby but still lovely, with dark bronze skin, light brown eyes and long, curly dark hair, clad in a long-sleeved dark blue traditional Kamis shirt and loose-fitting sky blue trousers.

"When the Christian missionaries came to my village, I simply felt moved by the Christian faith, in a way that Islam never moved me," Fatima Durrani said softly, and all eyes were on her as she went on to describe her conversion. It hadn't been an easy process, to say the least. Everyone was free to join Islam, regardless of race or background, but for one who was born in Islam to leave it, well, this complicates things...

Guillaume was friends with several Muslim students at Carleton University, and he knew that while most of them were friendly, easygoing folks, it was nevertheless frowned upon in their faith to even consider leaving it. In predominantly Muslim nations like Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Saudi Arabia, and others, the Islamic faith wasn't a personal matter, but a matter of state. Leaving it was akin to committing treason against one's own country...

"Such a brave soul," Guillaume thought to himself as Fatima continued with her story. The young woman described her old life in the City of Kandahar, Afghanistan. Fatima and her family hailed from the Pashtun ethnic group, which was quite widespread, and ranged from Afghanistan to Iran and Pakistan. Most of her people were Muslim, and had been adherents of that faith for centuries. Among them, apostasy was unthinkable, and when it did happen, it was punishable by death.

"When I told my parents about it, they were less than thrilled, as you can imagine, luckily we were living in Vancouver at the time, if I'd still been in my native Kandahar, I am certain that I'd be dead by now," Fatima said, and there was a hollow, haunted look on her lovely face. The young woman's fear was palpable and her captivating story had everyone completely and utterly riveted.

Guillaume listened attentively as Fatima concluded her story, which involved some truly harrowing moments. Guillaume, was extremely close to his parents, Gerald and Danielle Etienne, sent them cash via western union regularly and visited them every summer in Haiti, couldn't imagine having his folks disown him for religious reasons. When Fatima revealed that her parents wished her dead, hence why she fled Vancouver and moved to Ottawa, Guillaume's heart winced in sympathy.

"Sister, may the Lord bless you," Guillaume heard himself say, and he began clapping. Everyone else in the room soon joined in. Fatima looked at them and smiled, then nodded sagely before returning to her seat. In his capacity as group facilitator for the Christian Students Network at Carleton University, it was Guillaume's job to make new members feel at ease. He'd met fellow Christians of all hues, but he'd never met anyone quite like Fatima, that's for sure.

"Um, hello there," came a feminine voice, startling the hell out of a certain group facilitator. Guillaume, who'd finished rearranging the chairs in their proper spot after everyone left, looked up, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw...her. Fatima Durrani, the pretty young woman from Afghanistan. Smiling, Guillaume greeted her politely, glad to see her, but wondering what she wanted.

"Hello again, Fatima, how are you?" Guillaume asked, and the corniness of his own words annoyed him. He'd just seen her a few minutes ago. Fatima stood there, biting her lip. The young woman shifted her weight from right foot to left foot, seemingly uncomfortable. Guillaume winced inwardly. As a six-foot-five, large and dark-skinned man, he was used to having people act uncomfortable around him. That's life for black men in Canada, it would seem.

"Oh, I'm fine, Guillaume, I wanted to thank you for making me feel welcome, and I had something to ask you," Fatima said, and she smiled, and relief washed Guillaume in an awesome way. Certain ladies have that million-megawatt smile that no man can resist, like the singer Alicia Keys, or Latin American musical sensation Selena Quintanilla-Perez back in her heyday...

"Sure, Fatima, ask me anything," Guillaume replied, unaware that he was walking into a minefield. As it turns out, while Fatima looked soft and sweet, she was a very demanding lady. And she'd apparently figured out that Guillaume, while as tall as an NBA player, and with a deep voice almost as intimidating as that of Hollywood icon Samuel L. Jackson, was actually a big Teddy bear. Women, folks. Women.

"Thank you, Guillaume, I'm a Computer Science major, and I'm taking accounting, at the start of the meeting I heard you say you major in accounting, I could use some tutoring sometime, I'm lousy with numbers," Fatima said, flashing Guillaume that disarming smile. Guillaume, who normally would charge any student who asked for his tutoring services, found himself becoming more flexible by the millisecond...

"Sounds good, Fatima, I can definitely help you, just let me know when," Guillaume heard himself reply, and Fatima nodded, then took out her cell phone. Moments later, the two of them exchanged numbers. Fatima thanked Guillaume and they shook hands. She patted him on the arm, smiled some more, wished him a good day, then walked away.

Guillaume paused as Fatima practically sauntered out of the room. Face of an angel and the ass of a porn star, that gal is trouble, Guillaume remembered thinking at the time. As fate would have it, Guillaume was absolutely right. Fatima was something of a wild one, and she liked having things her way. Fatima mandated meeting with Guillaume twice a week for, ahem, tutoring sessions. And that's how it all began...

"Dude, I got a seventy eight out of a hundred for my Intro to Accounting midterm, we should celebrate," Fatima said to Guillaume, one bright Tuesday morning in mid-October. The two of them were seated inside the Mac Odrum Library's third floor, side by side at the computers. Fatima smiled at Guillaume, who was listening to Linkin Park music on YouTube while working on an assignment for his Business Ethics class.

"In that case, milady, let me treat you to dinner and a movie," Guillaume suggested, and he flashed Fatima his most convincing smile. Fatima leaned back in her chair and smiled coyly, then nudged Guillaume's foot with hers. On that day, she wore a long-sleeved pink T-shirt, yoga pants and knee-high black leather boots, her long dark hair flowing freely down her shoulders.

"Guillaume, you're such a basic guy, you're lucky I like you," Fatima replied, and then, to Guillaume's astonishment, she leaned close, and pressed her lips against his. Thus they shared their first kiss. Guillaume, who was clearly surprised by Fatima's boldness, gently wrapped his arms around her. When they came up for air, Fatima grinned at Guillaume, who exhaled sharply, amazed by this bold, wild young woman.

"Sweet lips, pretty eyes, and a big butt, I'm hooked," Guillaume said, grinning, and Fatima playfully slapped his shoulder. The two of them left the library together, and caught the bus to Blair Station. They went to see the movie Gone Girl at the Silver City Cine Plex, and after that, grabbed lunch at Moxie's restaurant. For Guillaume, it was the most exciting date he'd had in a while. For Fatima, it was her first date ever...

After this memorable yet impromptu first date, Guillaume and Fatima began seeing each other. The Silver City theater became one of their favorite spots, and they also ventured to the Rideau Shopping Center, and the Museum of Nature. Guillaume introduced Fatima to Haitian cuisine by taking her to Soleil Des Iles, a quaint little restaurant located in Vanier, Ontario.

"Hmm, this food is to die for," Fatima said, patting her slightly round belly after a delicious meal consisting of white rice, brown bean sauce, fried plantains and goat meat. Guillaume looked at the curvaceous Afghan beauty who reclined in her chair, a pleased look on her lovely face. The gal looked like she was having a good time, alright. What more could a brother want?

"Yeah, I love Haitian food, but if I eat too much of it, I've got to burn it off at the gym," Guillaume replied, and Fatima winked at him. Slipping her foot out of her sandal, she rubbed it against his crotch. Guillaume's eyes widened in surprise, and Fatima flashed him that deceptively innocent smile of hers. A smile that let him know in no uncertain terms that she had him right where she wanted him...

"Hmm, I could think of a few even more fun ways to burn it off," Fatima said coyly, and Guillaume held his breath. Fatima kept rubbing her foot against his crotch, and it aroused him so much that he found himself on the verge of exploding in his pants. Fatima suddenly got up, heading to the washroom in the restaurant basement. Right before reaching the backdoor, however, she paused, and turned to look at Guillaume. Smiling, Fatima licked her lips, then vanished.

"Temptress from hell," Guillaume whispered, and he closed his eyes, counted to ten, then left his backpack and jacket on his chair, and headed to the restaurant basement. The place was messy, and poorly lit. It suited them just fine. As soon as he reached the bottom of the steps, someone pounced on him. It was Fatima, with a wicked smile on her lovely face.

"What took you so long?" Fatima inquired, her voice husky and sexy, dripping with horniness. Guillaume pulled her close and kissed her. They got it on a dirty couch, not far from the washrooms. Fatima moaned softly as Guillaume kissed her and caressed her breasts. Her sleek, eager hands went straight to his crotch, unzipping his pants. Out came Guillaume's long, hard dick...

"I want you," Guillaume said breathlessly, and Fatima smiled while tugging on his member. She stroked him, tender and vicious at once. In the dark, damp basement, Fatima and Guillaume got their freak on. Propping Fatima up on the couch, Guillaume took a good look at her. With her jacket unzipped, revealing her perky breasts, her legs spread, Fatima looked pretty inviting. Guillaume grinned, and Fatima reached for his manhood, nudging him into herself. Locking eyes with Guillaume, Fatima bit her lips and nodded firmly.

"Fuck you're waiting for?" Fatima demanded, and Guillaume grinned, then began his approach into her. Fatima winced as he pushed his hard dick into her, and at last they were one. Groaning softly, her eyes closed, Fatima welcomed Guillaume inside of her. She wrapped her legs around him as he pumped his dick into her pussy. It was passionate, rough, desperate, violent and in the end, downright explosive.

"Damn," Guillaume whispered, as Fatima's vaginal muscles clenched around his dick. He continued fucking her with slow, deep strokes. Fatima's legs tightened around him, and her eyes snapped open. There was a wild, downright primal look in her eyes. Switching things up, he fucked her hard and fast, and for some reason, she grabbed his face with one hand and pinched his chest hairs with the other, causing him to wince.

When Guillaume cried out, Fatima grinned, apparently pleased. Pleasure and pain, they were both apparently the same to her. They fucked with wild abandon, and switched things up. Yanking down her yoga pants, she shook her big beautiful bronze butt for him. Guillaume gripped Fatima's hips and thrust into her, and Fatima moaned deeply, loving what he was doing to her. When Fatima felt Guillaume's hands grip her hair and smack her bottom, she cried out enthusiastically, craving the rough stuff, and her lover delivered...

Guillaume and Fatima were still going at it when an old Haitian man came down the steps, intent on taking a wiz in the basement washrooms. Upon seeing the couple engaged in, ahem, sexual congress, the old man nodded, shook his head and went into the washroom, slamming the door behind him. When he finished doing his business, the sexually adventurous duo was gone, leading the old man to wonder if he'd imagined the whole damn thing...

"That was frigging awesome," Fatima said to Guillaume, laughing heartily as they boarded the 18 bus leaving Vanier for the nearby Saint Laurent Mall. Guillaume grinned and nodded, recalling the look on the old man's face when he saw the two of them banging in the basement of Soleil Des Iles. He looked at Fatima, amazed at her sheer wildness, and how freaky this lovely woman from a restrictive background was turning out to be...

"Let's continue this at my place," Guillaume replied, and this time, he kissed Fatima. They embraced, smiling at one another, heedless of the stares from fellow passengers on the packed bus. Hand in hand, they got off the bus at Saint Laurent Mall, took a shuttle and then began the long trek to his place in South Keys. That afternoon, after much love making, ordering Chinese food, drinking wine, followed by watching TV and more lovemaking, something wondrous happened. Guillaume and Fatima realized they were simply made for each other.

"Sir, last stop," came a voice, and Guillaume blinked, snatched out of his reverie. He looked up and saw the bus driver, a middle-aged Somali man, looking at him impatiently. Guillaume smiled, realizing that he'd been daydreaming the entire bus ride. Nodding at the driver, he grabbed his briefcase and headed down the double decker's steps, then exited.

Yup, no bones about it, Guillaume was indeed at Marketplace Station. It was five o'clock on a Friday, and the bus station was full of people with places to be and things to do. Guillaume sighed, and got ready to walk home...alone. A car pulled into the parking lot of the nearby Loblaw's store, and loud honking sounds caught his attention. A familiar head popped out of the driver's side window, and Guillaume's heart skipped a beat...

"Hey, Guillaume, fuck are you waiting for? Get your cute ass in here," Fatima Durrani-Etienne said cheerfully. Guillaume looked at her and shook his head, grinning. Hefting his briefcase, he hurried to the car, and got in. Fatima greeted him with a quick peck on the lips, and patted his groin. Guillaume was mildly surprised by that, but, yeah, not really. Fatima was full of surprises...

"Hello babe, whatever happened to work?" Guillaume asked, and Fatima looked at him, and pursed her lips. She looked more serious than he could recall ever seeing her. Guillaume paused, inwardly bracing himself for some bad news. Was there something wrong? Did Fatima get fired by the Avaya corporation? Was there something wrong with the house? Oh, well. Whatever it was, he would find out soon enough...

"Babe, I started working today and felt a little dizzy, so I went to the clinic, and, um, I'm not quite sure how to say this, but our lives are about to change," Fatima said, smiling nervously. Guillaume was still puzzled, wondering what she was talking about, but then Fatima grabbed his hand and pressed it against her belly. Guillaume looked at Fatima and nodded, as understanding dawned on him.

"We're going to be parents," Guillaume said, gasping, and Fatima grinned, and nodded. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. Fatima sighed happily, looking lovingly at her husband Guillaume. They drove out of the Loblaw's parking lot, leaving the Marketplace area, the so-called downtown of Barrhaven, and headed for Cambrian Avenue, where they lived in a nice four-bedroom townhouse. Their lives were about to change, but as long as they stuck together, they knew they'd be fine.

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