The Refugee Princess of Morocco

"Salaam, bae, how's my favorite booty doing?" Sebastien Lavoie said cheerfully, his deep baritone voice pouring through the cell phone all smooth and confident. Bashira Mahmoud-Lavoie chucked softly, and shook her head. Leave it to that lustful husband of mine to call and ask about my ass, literally, Bashira thought. Sitting in the now empty lunch room located at the back of Walmart, the young Moroccan woman paused before answering her husband.

"I'm fine, Sebastien, funny you should ask about my booty, cause I ate a bad burrito from Mucho Burrito and let's just say the cleanup guy isn't going to be happy," Bashira said, laughing, and she heard Sebastien groan. Serves you right for talking about my booty when you forgot about our anniversary, Bashira thought, a bit peeved at Sebastien's forgetfulness.

Three years ago they met, just a couple of students reaching for the last Accounting II book inside the Algonquin College bookstore in the City of Nepean, Ontario. Sebastien, the tall and handsome newcomer to Ottawa by way of Laval, Quebec, and Bashira, the young refugee from the Kingdom of Morocco. What an unusual pair they made. Who would have thought such a life-changing sequence of events would stem from that initial encounter?

Sebastien and Bashira came from different worlds, but they had a lot in common. They agreed to share the accounting book upon discovering that they were in the same class, taught by Mr. Matthews. They sat in the same row, and ended up getting paired up in group work. When they became friends, people stared as they watched the two of them walk around. When Bashira and Sebastien became a couple, a lot of their fellow students were surprised, especially the Muslims, but they didn't let that stop them.

"Monday, September 7, 2015, that's when we met," Bashira thought to herself, and a bittersweet smile spread across her lovely face. Sitting inside the Walmart lounge, she savored the last few minutes remaining on her break. After graduating from Algonquin College with an Accounting diploma, Bashira looked for work with everyone from H & R Block to the Canada Revenue Agency, to no avail.

"Don't let these fools get to you babe," Sebastien told Bashira, earlier that morning, when she complained about the tiresome work that came with being a customer service manager at Walmart. Angry clients came in and blamed her for malfunctioning gadgets bought at the electronic section and Bashira had to smile through it all. As a college-educated woman and a new permanent resident of Canada, Bashira was qualified to do better work, but the Canadian government wasn't willing to give her a chance. As a Hijab-wearing Muslim woman from North Africa, Bashira knew that she could never be Canadian enough for them.

"It's not fair, Sebastien, I'm bilingual, I've got qualifications and a great resume, I have a degree from a Canadian college, what more do they want?" Bashira whined, and Sebastien looked at her sympathetically, then pulled her into his arms and held her. Sebastien can't relate to some of the things that I go through because he was born here, Bashira thought bitterly, then she chastised herself for such thoughts.

"One day you will find a better job, babe," Sebastien said, cupping Bashira's chin in his hand and looking into her eyes. Bashira nodded, and forced a brave smile. Sebastien grinned and playfully poked her nose, something he was fond of doing. Bashira grinned as he gently kissed her belly. A few months from now, Bashira would give birth to a son or daughter. One who would be the result of unique bloodlines, Afro-Caribbean and North African. What will the world make of you? Bashira thought as she caressed her belly.

"I hope so, sweetie, I really do, because I hate getting yelled at by shitty store managers, or dealing with passive-aggressive associates, and our crappy, racist clients who love yelling at me and remind me that I'm not a Canadian citizen," Bashira replied, and there was an edge to her voice that gave Sebastien pause. He looked at his beloved, unsure what to say...

Sebastien Lavoie was born in the City of Laval, Quebec, to Seraphim Lavoie and Chantal Rosier-Lavoie, hard-working immigrants originally from the island of Saint Lucia. Growing up, he always thought he'd go to school in the City of Montreal, and then a visit to Ottawa, Ontario, made him change his mind. Sebastien visited Algonquin College, and decided that this was the school for him. A few months after that, Sebastien met the love of his life, Bashira Mahmoud of Morocco...

"Babe, I'm going to ask friends and former classmates and teachers and everyone we know, we will find you something, I swear it," Sebastien said firmly, and Bashira looked into his eyes, saw the love there, and smiled. She wanted so desperately to believe him. After graduating from Algonquin College, Sebastien began working for the Department of Public Works. He had his degree in Applied Business, and he was bilingual and a Canadian citizen, and that was enough for the Canadian government.

"Sounds like a plan, babe," Bashira replied, and she kissed Sebastien on the lips, and he playfully grabbed her thick derriere and gave it a firm squeeze. They passionately hugged, then parted ways. Sebastien got in the car and drove from their two-bedroom apartment located near Iris Station, and began the long trek to Portage Station in the City of Gatineau, Quebec. A big day awaited Bashira's favorite Canadian government worker...

Bashira sat down on the living room couch and watched TV. There was a nice episode of Marvel's Jessica Jones on Netflix and she decided to catch up on her favorite series. Sitting down, she felt a bit sore, and it brought a smile to her face. She thought of the laborious, passionate session of lovemaking that she and her darling husband Sebastien engaged in.

"That man wears me out," Bashira thought, and she absentmindedly slipped her hand between her thighs, and began masturbating. She closed her eyes and fingered her pussy, remembering the sexual whammy that Sebastien laid on her earlier. The Afro-Caribbean stud saw her in the washroom, braiding her hair after taking a piss...while wearing absolutely nada. That's all it took to turn Sebastien on, and he came after her, horny as can be...

"Hmm, my sexy lady naked first thing in the morning, how did I get so lucky?" Sebastien asked, and Bashira flashed him a loving smile, then kissed him. When Bashira left her hometown of Rabat, Kingdom of Morocco, where her family had been declared outlaws for allegedly plotting against the Moroccan monarchy, she lost everything. In one fell swoop, Bashira's world ended...

Loneliness seemed like Bashira's only constant companion from the day she landed in North America. After all, all manner of trouble plagued her old life back home. Her parents, Hamid and Nabila Mahmoud went missing, and it took a friend of the family to smuggle her out of Morocco. Bashira went to the U.S. where she applied for asylum, and got denied. She then moved to Canada, where her refugee claim was accepted. Bashir felt lost in this strange new land...until she met Sebastien.

"Ooh Sebastien," Bashira cooed, moaning softly as her husband fondled her breasts, and her round buttocks. He sat her up on the washroom counter and fingered her pussy while sucking on her breasts. Bashira looked at Sebastien's long, hard dick and stroked it. Sebastien flashed Bashira a naughty grin and she nodded, knowing what he wanted. That's how she found herself bent over the nearby tub, as he gripped her hips and thrust his dick into her pussy.

"Now that's what I like," Sebastien said, moaning deeply as he fucked Bashira, who licked her lips and kept grinding against him. To really shine Sebastien on, Bashira began to twerk as he fucked her, and Sebastien just about lost it, for he loved the way her thick round ass jiggled before him. They fucked for a good while, then stopped. It was the early morning quickie, one of their unwritten traditions. Afterwards, they showered together, then went back to the bedroom.

"All that, and he still forgets our anniversary," Bashira thought angrily as she sat alone in the lunchroom at Walmart. Hearing her name called over the speaker, she groaned in frustration and headed to the customer service office. One of the young women working there, a peppy blonde named Becky, informed Bashira that she was expected at the front end of the store. A bit worried about what she was walking into, Bashira hurried up there.

"Happy anniversary, babe," Sebastien said, as he greeted his darling wife with flowers and a big smile. Bashira gasped in surprise, then turned to look at her co-workers, Becky among them. The yellow-vested customer service team smiled and waved at Bashira, who then looked at Sebastien, then squealed in delight before rushing into his arms. What a nice surprise indeed...

"I knew you wouldn't forget our anniversary," Bashira said, crying tears of joy as she embraced her husband Sebastien, and gave his ass a firm squeeze in front of everyone. Sebastien kissed Bashira on the forehead, and grinned. This woman meant everything to him and he couldn't w ait to start a family with her. Three years ago they met at school, and they'd been together ever since. There was absolutely no one else that Sebastien wanted to spend the rest of his life with.