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For the first time in over a month I visited my new Somali neighbours to say Eid Mubarak; actually their kids—two sons ages 18 and 19, respectively—knocked on my patio door to say Eid Mubarak and asked me to come for some Xalwa and other sweets.
On any other occasion I would oblige; I do love sweets after all and who turns down a polite neighbour’s invitation? But this was no normal occasion, at least the way I saw things. There was an incident involving myself and those kids’ mom just before Ramadan started. I won’t get into the details of that incident but I was starting to feel that they didn’t see it as a big deal. They were almost signalling that I was off the hook and that it was all water under a bridge.
So I went across the parking lot and knocked on their glass patio door. It was Eid and their house was a little busy: extended family and friends were there with their kids. One of the kids let me in and I sat on their sofa. Maryan, the kids’ mom, acknowledged my presence while talking to other women in the small hallway. The older son went into the kitchen and got me some homemade biscuits and xalwa and I promptly devoured it.
I started talking to people I didn’t know who were there to visit. Soon enough the place cleared up and eedo Maryan sat across from me for “waraysi”. We talked about Eid and why I stopped fasting on Saturday instead of Sunday, among other small topics. A short while later she asks me to take her and “the kids”—as if we have kids together—somewhere for Eid. She is married and I found this to have an appearance of impropriety to say the least. Furthermore the kids are young adults.
So obviously we hopped into my truck and went to Dairy Queen. It was a hassle when we got there: long line up, slow service and an overall uncomfortable dining experience because of coronavirus restrictions. This was by far not the quintessential eid. Thanks covid19.
We came back to the house and Maryan had women friends visiting so myself and her two sons went to go play basketball at a nearby outdoor basketball court.
I’m not at all good at basketball and predictably got humiliated—ankles twisted on multiple drives to the hoop and a block worthy of a LeBron highlight reel—but at least my new kids had some fun (they kept referring to me as “adeer” the whole time). It was cloudy and starting to rain a little and there was eedo Maryan screaming from the patio door: “waryaada so xarooda”, clutching her skirt just under the hip to lift it off the ground because it was too long.
I challenged my new kids to a foot race to the house and got smoked, but it was all light hearted fun. It was dark out and I had spent most of the day at her house. I was going to just go home but eedo Maryan wouldn’t let me.
She reminded me that I had no work on Sunday and asked for “wehelyeel”, or company, since the husband wasn’t there. She asked me to just stay until 10pm since my apartment is not far. I obliged. I got the remote for the TV and watched reruns of the 2016 NBA finals where the Cavs came back from a 3-1 hole in their series with the Warriors.
The kids got bored and went upstairs to sleep in their shared room. Though I knew the result of the game being aired, I still wanted to re-watch that epic ending. The game is tied 89-89 with a few minutes left and Andre Iguodala streaks down the court for a dunk. Lebron chases him down and blocks him, preserving a tie score and setting the stage for Kyrie Irving’s game winner.
During a stoppage in play, Maryan finishes mopping the kitchen floor and sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. I’m onto what she’s planning. She starts whispering something but the game returns from break. We haven’t uttered a word from the moment Kyrie hits the three to the final buzzer.
Lebron is crowned finals MVP, the third of his career and the broadcast is finished. She takes the remote out of my hand and shuts the TV off. That was the only source of light so the living room is now darkened. She says in fob English “bull it out now!” And I promptly comply. Her blowjob skills are subpar but I gave B- for effort. I take her clothes off and she begins to guide my head downward toward her crotch.
I was thrown off: she wants me to eat her out. There was no way this was happening. She’s in her fifties and I don’t know how many things have been in there. I tried to stand my ground and said I can’t do it. That was futile as it turned out and within seconds, I dove head-first like a swimmer into a swimming pool during the olympics.
It had a weird acidic smell and was unusually wet, and on top of that it was basically a hole without a lot of labia skin around it. I licked around the sides of it and the clit and she started to squeeze my head between her thighs. I couldn’t breathe. I started to gasp for air like a black American being held in a chokehold by police.
I got out from there, spread her legs apart for my dick but she was having none of that. She says in fob voice “no, like dog style” and turns around. This is all happening on a carpet floor with hard carpet and it’s taking a toll on my knees. I tried to get her on the couch but she insisted I take her from the back on the floor.
So I got on my knees, pulled her ass closer and shoved it in—into her asshole! She screamed “oouuchh!”. One of her sons came back running down the stairs to check out what happened: “Hoyo are you ok?”. He ran down the stairs so fast I couldn’t even put my pants back on. He turns on the living room light and witnessed a sight that will haunt him for eternity.
“Adeer what the f*ck!” He utters with hands held above his head in disbelief. I jump and run out the patio door and in doing so, I trip. I scraped my wrist but didn’t even feel it. I ran so fast into my apartment and even considered leaving in my truck.
All the while, Maryan is bent over on the carpet, reeling from an accidental anal f*ck. At this point I didn’t know how she explained this to her son or what happened. I kept looking outside to see if, for example, cops would show up. Nothing happened. I showered and by 2am, I went to bed. I couldn’t sleep but I tried.
My heart nearly stopped when I heard several loud knocks on my patio door.“It must be the cops” I thought, and the son must’ve called them. I put street clothes on, put my shoes on, took my phone and charger and came to the patio door, fully expecting to be thrown into the back of a cruiser.
To my utter shock, it was Maryan. I roll open the door and she asks me to come back to finish. Not willing to leave well enough alone, I brazenly ask her to come in. She comes straight to my bed room and I pipe her down with dignity. She was moaning the whole time but it nearly had the effect of making me flaccid. Her moans were out of sink and it was flat out weird.
It was 3:30 am. I asked her what she told her son. She told him, and I quote: “it’s unabropriate to look when the barents are together”. She left shortly thereafter. She walked down through the parking lot into her patio door, which she left open in search of dick.
** The real names of the characters in this story were not provided
Im still wondering how I am barred from free speech meanwhile this celery dude can write erotica here about dugsi girls, commit sacrilege by insulting Islam and Quran and get away with it. If this aint misogyny idk what isI’m conservative socially and I like thick African women. That’s relevant to my politics. You’re the creep for bringing children into it
Im still wondering how I am barred from free speech meanwhile this celery dude can write erotica here about dugsi girls, commit sacrilege by insulting Islam and Quran and get away with it. If this aint misogyny idk what is
Im still wondering how I am barred from free speech meanwhile this celery dude can write erotica here about dugsi girls, commit sacrilege by insulting Islam and Quran and get away with it. If this aint misogyny idk what is
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Yes he is.
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Block me. That way you won’t know what I saidshe in school your the one being sexual on a thread in general that had nothing to do with it
and why would we do that I enjoy being a haterBlock me. That way you won’t know what I said
i stopped responding a while agoBlock me. That way you won’t know what I said