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"Take my number and text me so I know where to find you," Nadia said, and as you can imagine, I was all smiles. Taking out my beat-up old Blackberry, I punched in Nadia's number. My stomach grumbled, for it was already eleven o'clock and I hadn't even had breakfast since I woke up late. I didn't mind Nadia cutting in front of me, though. For this young Somali woman had an even bigger ass than Hodan's. One I silently swore I'd smash if and when I got the chance. What can I say? I'm that rare Haitian brother who's addicted to Somali women and I definitely don't want to be cured!
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 9 years agoI always read SamuelX's stories when I need a good belly laugh. I think they could cure clinical depression.
You could do a drinking game for each time any of the following appears: Somalians, Muslims, Canada, interracial, milfs, Haiti, rcasism...etc etc
