Saudi MILF & Black Scholar Ch. 02

I'm honestly starting to think that this voluptuous, seemingly innocent yet sinfully sexy Saudi Arabian broad invented sex. Oh, in case you're wondering who this is, my name is Tyrone Ferguson. I'm originally from Buffalo, New York, and recently moved to Ottawa, Ontario, to study for my MBA at Carleton University. A while ago, I met an amazing lady who simply changed my life. Going to tell you all about her.

I met Amina Alzahrani, the tall, curvy chick from Saudi Arabia while working as a security guard at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York. This broad was walking up and down the street, looking lost. Fearing for her safety, I approached her. Amina told me that she was lost, and was desperately trying to find her way back to the Embassy Suites Hotel. Like the friendly gentleman that I am, I offered to help her.

Little did I know that this encounter would change both of our lives. At the time, though, I thought nothing of it. I walked Amina Alzahrani to her hotel, and she thanked me profusely before walking back in. I watched her go, taking note of Amina's mesmerizing thick ass. I hadn't met too many Arab women in my lifetime. In Buffalo, New York, we've got blacks and whites and Mexicans, that's about it.

I went back to the mall, where I worked as a security guard on the overnight shift. I had plenty to occupy me in those days. I was in my fourth year at Buffalo State College, and was thinking about the future. The recession hit Buffalo, New York, pretty hard a while back. You see a lot of boarded up houses in my part of town. Unpaved roads, entire sections of town fallen into disarray. Buffalo is one of the most segregated towns in America. The black half is suffering economic strife and the white half is flourishing. I hate it but that's a fact of life.

A while ago, I met this Mexican dude named Jose Gutierrez, an illegal immigrant who was staying at that immigrant shelter, Vive La Casa. Dude told me about his family which was waiting for him in Toronto, Ontario. Look, I was born and raised in America and I kind of envied Jose when he told me how well his wife Maria and their daughter Arianna were doing in Toronto. Apparently, they were granted refugee status by the Canadian government and recently got their permanent residence cards. That's why Jose's wife Maria filed for him to come to Canada from the States. Poor dude spent a decade away from his loved ones, working under the table. Still, at least Jose Gutierrez had something to look forward to.

Me? I'm an orphan. I was raised by the foster care system, and bounced from one home to another all over the State of New York. After high school, I won a scholarship to Buffalo State College. I've always been gifted when it comes to numbers, so stuff like business and accounting always appealed to me. I figured I could study that in college, and make something of myself. Never had anyone to believe in me. I always believed in myself. Foster parents, whether black or white or Asian, never gave a damn about me.

After four years at Buffalo State College, I'd grown as a man. At my school, I met a lot of people of all colors. I sat in classrooms filled with white students, matched wits with them and held my own. I became more confident as a result. The United States of America has always hated the black man but it is my firm belief that if you apply yourself in the higher education system, you just might make it.

Too often, a lot of black folks in America have a defeatist attitude. I saw a lot of brothers and sisters who had their parents around growing up but never made anything of themselves. Me? I always believed in myself. Nobody out there believes in us black men so we've got to believe in ourselves. Am I right or am I right? Yes, there is racism. Yes, we're discriminated against. Yes, we live in a fucked up world where cops can choke a man to death, on camera, and not get charged as a result. So what? We've got to keep on fighting and keep on living. We can't give up.

That self-belief has taken me many places. I graduated from Buffalo State College with honors, and then began looking for work. I couldn't find a job in Buffalo, or even places as far away as Copiague, New York City, or Elmira. I applied everywhere, man. I think having a name like Tyrone Ferguson pretty much marks me as Black with a capital B, that's why I didn't hear back from a lot of potential employers. Even in the Age of Obama, discrimination is alive and well in the United Snakes of America. Oops, I meant the United States of America. My bad, dear readers.

Anyhow, after graduating from Buffalo State College, I decided to do some traveling. See the world as an educated brother, you know? I was no longer an orphan, dependent on the foster care system and government handouts to survive. I got promoted to supervisor at the security company I worked for. Making sixteen dollars per hour isn't bad, especially when most people around me only made ten bucks per hour and sometimes not even that. Still, I didn't want to be a rent-a-cop for the rest of my life.

I had about five thousand dollars saved in my Bank of America checking account, so I took my credit card, and a car, and some clothes, and hit the road. That's how I crossed into Ontario, Canada, via the Lake Erie border. I'd lived in Buffalo, New York, right next to the Canadian border for most of my life and yet I'd never even been to Canada. How fucked up is that? I drove all the way to Toronto, supposedly Canada's largest and most racially diverse city, and experienced a brand new world.

While in Toronto, Ontario, I met all kinds of folks. I used to think I know what the black experience is all about but after staying a few months in Toronto, and meeting Haitians, Somalis, Ethiopians, Jamaicans and other black folks from distant countries, people who spoke different languages, followed different religions and had different cultures, I learned a thing or two about black life. Blackness is universal, but it all depends on your culture. How a Haitian-American woman from Miami, Florida, sees the world differs from how a Somali dude who just moved to Canada from Mogadishu sees it.

I think I started falling in love with Canada after meeting black Canadians from all walks of life. Somalis. Eritreans. Jamaicans. Haitians. Afro-Arabians. Afro-Brazilians. Hot damn, Toronto's got them all! I decided to move to Toronto, and applied for a study permit and a work permit. I applied to the University of Toronto, intent on getting my MBA there. Sadly, it wasn't meant to be.

Those fucked up bastards at Buffalo State College sent my transcripts out too late and the admissions department at U of T told me I'd have to wait the following year to reapply. Fuck that. I tried to get into Ryerson University and York University and both told me the same damn thing. I didn't want to spend a year in Canada without going to school. I firmly believe that if you don't use your brain for worthwhile intellectual pursuits, you might lose it. I think brains rust over time without stimulation. I might be wrong now but I don't think so. I looked through the Ontario Universities Application Center. There are lots of schools listed there. Surely one of them was still taking in applications?

I applied to the University of Ottawa and apparently their deadline had already passed. Only choice I had left was Carleton University. At the time, I didn't know Jack about Carleton University or the City of Ottawa, Ontario, where the school was located. All I know is that Carleton has an MBA program. I prayed their deadline hadn't gone by. I sent them my transcripts, and was overjoyed when, a few weeks later, I got an answer from them in the mail. Welcome to Carleton University's Sprott School of Business, the letter said. Dude, I started tap dancing, I was so happy.

I'd gotten into Carleton University, and decided to move to Ottawa. Since Toronto didn't want me, I might as well give the Canadian capital a shot. Someone forgot to tell me that Ottawa is mad small, lacks excitement, is full of boring, narrow-minded white people, and oh yeah, it's fucking boring as hell! I moved there, and found an apartment. I needed to find a job fast since I was down to my last twelve hundred bucks.

With my work permit, I hit places like Canadian Tire, Loblaw's and Home Depot looking for work. I'd already tried major businesses and been told that although I had a valid college degree from an accredited American school, I lacked Canadian experience and Canadian citizenship so they couldn't hire me. Are you kidding me? I'm qualified for the job, who cares where I come from? Fuck Canada! Canada is even more racist than America, if you ask me. Canadians are just better at hiding it behind their fake smiles.

The only place that would offer me a job was Securitas Canada. I used to work for Securitas in New York, and had Stacey Kennedy, my old manager mail my resume and references to the Securitas office in Ottawa. Yay, I left buffalo, NY, for Ottawa, Ontario, to become a rent-a-cop. I've got a bachelor's degree from Buffalo State College, but that doesn't seem to matter to Canadian employers. Oh maybe it's because I'm a black American man. Whatever. I joined Securitas and became a security guard, for twelve bucks an hour. Life is funny, isn't it?

Well, my Canadian journey was off to a rocky start. I didn't conquer the land like I thought I would. Canadians hate everything American, I swear, there's some jealousy at work in their hearts. I swore to myself I'd make it though. The good thing about Ottawa is that you don't hear about cops shooting minority males every ten seconds.

I swear, it's open season on black men across the United States America and the biased, deeply racist justice system and President Obama's toothless Department of Justice let racist white cops get away with murdering brothers. If President Obama told the useless D.O.J. to prosecute at least one racist white cop, then the others might get the message and stop shooting our brothers for fun. Sadly, he doesn't have the balls to do it.

That's one thing I don't miss about the United States of America, the once-a-day racial shootings. Oh, shit still happens in Canada but it's rare. In the U.S. racist white cops shoot an unarmed black man every sixty seconds, I swear. I heard about cops shooting an Arab dude named Sammy Yatim in Toronto. Much to my surprise, the cop got charged with murder. In Canada, trigger-happy white cops who shoot minorities can actually get charged with murder? Man, I take back what I said about this country. As a black American man, I love Canada already!

I was slowly adjusting to life in my new town when fate and happenstance threw me a curve. Or should I say curves? I was at the Billings Bridge Mall, chilling when I saw a very familiar face. That of a woman I swore I'd never forget. Amina Alzahrani, the tall, pretty-faced and big-booty Arab chick I met at the Galleria Mall in Buffalo, New York, a year ago. I approached her, and Amina's fearless smile stopped me dead in my tracks.

The Saudi Arabian cutie looked me up and down, smiled and asked me to join her. I sat down opposite Amina Alzahrani, and then, for the next couple of hours, we talked. Some meetings change your life, whether you like it or not. I never thought I'd run into Amina again. Hell, I'd almost forgotten about the Arab woman with the thick derriere until I saw her at Billings Bridge. Sparks flew between us, and I guess, the rest is history, as they say...

Amina Alzahrani was just what I needed, man. We provided each other for solace in the coming days, and I must say, the Saudi Arabian gal delighted me in every way. Paying for international student fees at Carleton University's Sprott MBA program isn't easy, especially given my salary as a security guard. I continued to send my resume to prospective employers, emphasizing my U.S. college degree but seldom heard from them. Feels like the whole world is against me, seriously.

One thing that kept me going? Having someone like Amina Alzahrani in my life. The Saudi Arabian gal was just what the doctor ordered. Taking refugee in her loving arms after a battle-weary day does wonders for a brother. Kissing me and holding me tight, Amina assured me that everything would be okay. Looking into her dark eyes, I saw her sincerity. Truth be told, I've never had anyone care for me. Sure, I've fucked my share of girls, both black and white, while in college but nothing serious.

Relationships aren't something I've ever given much thought to. As an orphan and a black male at that, forever on the margins of Buffalo's decidedly segregated society, I never put much stock in relationships. Black or white, people left me cold. I didn't know how to give or receive affection. The hookup culture at Buffalo State College suited me just fine.

I never wanted more, or thought there might be more to life, to sex and to relationships...until I met Amina. Even though we came from different worlds, the Red Sea port town of Yanbu, Saudi Arabia, and Buffalo, New York, couldn't be more different from one another as towns, and yet, Amina Alzahrani totally gets me. When I told her in my arms, I feel more than lust and passion....I feel alive.

Earlier, Amina Alzahrani fucked like jackrabbits, man. I laid the Saudi cutie on my bed, spread her shapely thighs wide open and then began munching on her hairy, sweaty cunt like there was no tomorrow. Amina squealed in delight as I licked her pussy while fingering her. A lot of men don't like foreplay but I am not one of them. I love eating pussy. Fuck, I love every inch of the female body. And I absolutely couldn't get enough of Amina's. For real.

After I finished polishing her cunt with my tongue, Amina Alzahrani smiled lustfully and told me to fuck her. Happily I put my Saudi Arabian cutie on all fours, and licked her big butt, smacking it a bit before sliding my thick dick into her cunt. I fucked her hard, pulling her hair and slammed my dick into her. We went at it like this for a while, screaming passionately while fucking. Much later, Amina and I lay side by side, spent.

Still not sated, Amina Alzahrani resumed sucking my dick, and this time, fingered my asshole while going down on me. Man, before I met Amina, I used to think that Muslim women were chaste and pure, but now I know better. Amina is one freaky mama, I found that out firsthand when she pulled out a butt plug and asked me if she could fuck my ass with it. I hesitated, then smiled and shrugged. Shoot, I'll try anything once...almost.

Yup, that's how I found myself lying there, with Amina Alzahrani sucking my black dick while working her butt plug into my asshole. Look, it's not something I want to try every damn day but it was a lot of fun. I'll admit that much. The experience was pleasurable in a way that was most unexpected. Pleasures I hadn't thought myself capable of experiencing. Amina asked me how I felt later and I assured her that it was fun.

Yeah, Amina Alzahrani and I are wicked together, and I wouldn't have us any other way. The Saudi Arabian MILF is an injection of life into my otherwise dreary existence. We're good for each other, and not just in the bedroom. We spend a lot of time together, going to movies, restaurants and malls together, and also hanging out at each other's schools. Thanks to Amina's decision to file for me to get my permanent residence, I just might be able to graduate from Carleton's Sprott School of Business sooner than I thought. How about that? I love my Saudi cutie!