Saudi MILF for Guinean Stud

"The myth about all Saudi Arabian people being rich is just that, a myth, I mean, if you believe that, then explain to me how come everyone in Canada isn't rich," Fawza Fetieh said, and the young Saudi woman tried not to roll her eyes as she and her co-worker Ali Diallo cleaned the CRA building located on Laurier Street in downtown Ottawa. It was after hours, and the two of them bantered as they cleaned the whole place, floor by floor.

"Oh, I think it's because every time I meet a Saudi person, they're either an international student whose every expense is paid for by their government, or a rich businessperson, and then there are those Saudi royals who spend a million bucks while shopping in Paris in just one weekend," Ali Diallo replied, and a look of amazement creased the six-foot-tall, wiry and muscular young Guinean Muslim's dark, handsome face.

"Ali, stop daydreaming," Fawza said, smiling as she snapped her fingers mere inches from Ali Diallo's face, and the young man smiled and shrugged. Fawza continued to roll the cleaning cart on the seventh floor, and paused upon reaching the washrooms. Ask any cleaner from here to the end of the world, and they'll tell you that female washrooms are usually infinitely dirtier than the male ones. Fawza still had nightmares about the last time she cleaned the ladies room in this particular office...

"Alright, Fawza, no need to faint, I'll do the ladies room, but you'll owe me," Ali said with a wink, and Fawza sighed in relief as he dutifully knocked on the door, even though it was after hours. No reply came, and Ali Diallo began humming a song as he pushed his car into the washroom, and began cleaning up. What a man, Fawza thought, smiling in amazement.

If someone told Fawza Fetieh three years ago that she'd leave her old life in the City of Tabuk, Saudi Arabia, for an uncertain new existence in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, she would have laughed. Born to an upper-middle-class Saudi family, and educated at Brunel University in the City of London, England, Fawza came to Canada to escape the tribal conflict which pitted her family, the Fetieh clan, against the Al-Amoudi clan, which happened to have the backing of the Al-Saud family, which rules the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

As various men and women of the Fetieh Clan were put to the sword for their complicity in a plot against the Al-Amoudi Clan and their allies the House of Saud, Fawza was forced to flee the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The execution of her father-in-law Amir Al-Fetieh had been a wake-up call for Fawzia. Thirty five years old at the time of the incident, on the verge of being repudiated by her philandering husband Wazir Al-Fetieh for her apparent barrenness, Fawza was already leading a precarious life when her whole world went to hell.

"If you ever return to Saudi Arabia, you will be put to death, the blood feud between these two great houses will not end until every last member of the Fetieh clan is dead," said Mohamed Fakir, the seedy government official who helped Fawza Fetieh escape from Saudi Arabia. Fawza nodded at her benefactor and took the government documents he'd secured for her at considerable risk to his own life. Silently Fawzia thanked her lucky stars to have a friend like Mohamed Fakir...

"Thank you for helping me, my friend, I will not forget this," Fawzia said, and Mohamed Fakir nodded gravely, and then walked her to the King Khalid International Airport, the crown jewel of metropolitan Riyadh. From this spot, tons of tourists, including wealthy American and European business types, arrived in the Saudi Arabian capital every day. As Fawzia boarded the plane, she looked out the window, at her homeland. Closing her eyes hard, Fawzia Fetieh said goodbye to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia forever.

When Fawzia Fetieh arrived in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, she thought life would get better. After all, this was western society. Fawzia had never been to the Capital of Canada before but imagined it wasn't that different from London, UK, where she lived for a time while studying business management at Brunel University. Didn't Canadians maintain close ties to British society, particularly the British royals? Fawzia imagined that Canada was like Britain, only geographically bigger. Time would prove Fawzia dead wrong, and then some...

Three years after arriving in the Canadian Capital, Fawzia managed to convince an immigration judge not to send her back to Saudi Arabia. They'd accepted her refugee claim and granted her protected person status, but her permanent residence application was still in processing. The permanent residence card was key. Even though Fawzia held a British university degree, no Canadian institution worth her time would hire her due to her whole status-in-limbo thing. Canadian bureaucracy at its finest.

In the meantime, Fawzia worked as a cleaner in a downtown office building to pay her rent and groceries, preparing for the day when she'd get her permanent residence card and finally be able to lead a better life. More than once, Fawzia caught herself lamenting her old life in the City of Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. She lived in a villa, and had servants catering to her every whim. Now look at her life...

"I hate my life," Fawzia muttered to herself, as she dutifully cleaned the men's washroom. As she cleaned the washroom, she put on her headphones, and listened to her favorite song, Numb. The lead singer of the band behind that timeless song died recently, shocking the hell out of millions of fans, Fawzia Fetieh among them. As Fawzia fell into the groove of the song, she began to do the bump and grind, like she'd seen so many young women do while out and about on the streets of Ottawa.

"Hot damn, never thought I'd live to see the day when a Saudi mama shook her big booty," Ali Diallo shouted, as he tapped Fawzia on the shoulder, nearly causing the startled woman to jump out of her skin. Fawzia looked at Ali Diallo as though she'd seen a ghost, and fright gave way to anger as the tall, dark-skinned and handsome young Guinean Muslim stood there, laughing merrily at her.

"Ali, wipe that smirk off your face or I'll slap you," Fawzia said, shaking her head and trying not to laugh as Ali Diallo stood there, hands on his hips, a smug smile on his face. Fawzia had known Ali for some time, and grown used to his antics. The brother hailed from the Faranah region of the Republic of Guinea, and had been living in Ottawa for the past two years. Like Fawzia, Ali Diallo applied for permanent resident status. The government had yet to answer his request, and in the meantime, he worked as a cleaner while taking classes at Algonquin College.

"Fawzia, my dear, I must warn you, when I meet a slap-happy, big-booty women, I tend to date them," Ali Diallo said, and Fawzia rolled her eyes. After knowing each other for some time, she and Ali sometimes hung out outside of work, and she'd seen the long list of big-booty women, usually black or Hispanic, whom he tended to date. Floozies, the whole lot of them. Fawzia sometimes wondered why a good Muslim like Ali Diallo flocked to such women, instead of getting a pious, Hijab-wearing Muslim sister...

"Ali Diallo, my dearest friend, if you had me, you wouldn't know what to do with me," Fawzia replied, and she stepped closer to him, totally getting into his personal space, as they say. Ali Diallo grinned nervously, in the manner of young men the world over when a woman called their bluff. Fawzia grinned, totally savoring the moment. Ali Diallo was usually so damn cocksure. There she was, her face inches from his, and he looked more nervous than a cat in a room full of barking dogs...

"Or I could do this," Ali Diallo said, and a stunned Fawzia blinked in surprise as the young Guinean pulled her close, and then kissed her. If lightning had struck Fawzia right then and there, it wouldn't have shocked her more. Fawzia was surprised, yes, but then she surprised herself, and Ali, by kissing him back. As the young man held her close and caressed her while sliding his tongue down her throat, Fawzia felt tingles of pleasure cascading through her curvaceous yet long-neglected body.

"Hmm, you have sweet lips, Mr. Diallo," Fawzia said, smiling up at him, and Ali Diallo grinned and nodded. He was still grinning when Fawzia grabbed his ass and gave it a firm squeeze. Something she'd been wanting to do for ages. Ali Diallo smiled and kissed Fawzia again. Without any thought to where they were, or consequences of any kind, they began making love.

"You're so beautiful," Ali Diallo said, as he hoisted Fawzia up on the washroom counter, and the curvy, bronze-skinned and brown-eyed beauty winked at him. Fawzia licked her lips as Ali Diallo stroked her face affectionately, and then caressed her breasts. Clad in a long-sleeved dark blue shirt featuring the words "It's Trudeau" and faded blue jeans, her long curly dark hair hidden by a modest ebony Hijab, Fawzia definitely hadn't come ready for a seduction, but who cares?

"Shukran, go for it handsome," Fawzia replied, and she giggled as Ali Diallo kissed her hand, and then his hands began roaming all over her curvy body. Emboldened, Fawzia took off her shirt, and Ali smiled and caressed her breasts as she unclasped her bra. Gently he pressed his lips against her nipples and sucked on them. Fawzia leaned back against the mirrored wall, and sighed happily as Ali began pleasuring her. It had indeed been too long since she'd known a man's touch...

"The things I'm going to do to you," Ali Diallo whispered, looking into Fawzia's eyes as he pulled down her pants, and he smiled upon noticing her bright pink panties. Fawzia smiled and pulled them down, exposing her hairy pussy. Ali knelt before her and brought his dark, handsome face to her crotch. Fawzia spread her thick bronze thighs invitingly, and Ali Diallo inhaled her scent, and then buried his face between her legs. Fawzia licked her lips and smiled as Ali began eating her pussy. She was pleasantly surprised that the younger man knew what he was doing as he teased her clit with his tongue, and began fingering her pussy...

"Hmm, Ali, please don't stop," Fawzia cooed softly, and she caressed the back of Ali's head as he licked her pussy. Soon the brother from Guinea had her tingling all over, and then some. Fawzia squirmed on the washroom counter, overwhelmed with sensations as Ali pleasured her. Fawzia screamed with wild abandon as she came, violently orgasmic for the first time in ages. When Fawzia calmed down, somewhat, she looked at Ali, amazed at such prowess from such a young man.

"Guess I revved up your engine, mama," Ali Diallo said with a cocky smile, and Fawzia grinned and shook her head. As passionate as Ali was, he still sounded like a young pup, but that didn't stop Fawzia from appreciating his charm. Grabbing the young Guinean Muslim stud by the collar and kissed him. Unzipping Ali's pants, Fawzia freed his dick, and began stroking it at once.

"Ali, sometimes in life you need to shut up and relax," Fawzia said, and Ali Diallo nodded as she pumped her hand up and down his shaft. The Saudi gal smiled, pleased that her lover got the message. They switched things around, and Ali leaned against the wall as Fawzia knelt before him and took his dick into her mouth. Fawzia took her sweet time as she pleasured Ali, and when he came, she tasted a bit of his cum, and let the rest fall to the floor.

"Let's do this," Ali said, and Fawzia nodded, and watched as he pulled a condom out of his wallet, unwrapped it and rolled it on his dick. Fawzia licked her lips and turned around, resting her arms against the washroom counter. Admiring their reflections in the mirror, Fawzia watched as Ali came up behind her. The young Guinean had a mesmerized look on his handsome face as he watched her big bronze butt shake from side to side. Fawzia smiled and thrust her butt out, and Ali caressed it, and slapped it playfully.

"Shut up and fuck me," Fawzia said, and Ali was happy to oblige. Gripping Fawzia's hips, Ali pushed his dick into her pussy and began to fuck her with gusto. Fawzia licked her lips appreciatively as Ali fucked her with gusto, pounding her pussy with deep, powerful thrusts. Fawzia's screams soon filled the room, and she cut loose, giving back as good as she got, grinding her ass against Ali's groin as he fucked her. Hard and fast Ali pounded away at Fawzia, and his grunts of effort mingled with her pleasure-filled moans.

"Now that's what I call a much-needed break," Ali Diallo said, a few minutes later, as he and Fawzia readjusted their clothes. Fawzia looked at the handsome brother who'd just fucked the hell out of her and grinned. Although his manly rod left her pleasurably sore down below, Ali had much to learn, about women and life in general. Lucky for him, Fawzia didn't mind teaching him a thing or two.

"Yeah, stop grinning like a psycho and clean that up, handsome, we got another floor to do," Fawzia said, in that bossy tone of hers. Raising an eyebrow, Fawzia pointed downward, indicating the mess Ali Diallo left on the floor after he came, thanks to her stunning oral skills. The young Guinean Muslim looked at Fawzia, and she turned around and smiled, then shook her ass at him while readjusting her Hijab. Without another word, Fawzia left the washroom. Ali Diallo smiled to himself, shook his head in amazement and went back to work.