Interracial saudi stories
Read 3 free saudi erotic stories on AdultRead
I returned to Saudi Arabia in 2005, and married Mahmoud Hussein, a long-time friend of my family's, and life has been the purest of hell for me ever since. The young African-American businessman became fascinated with the Middle East, and at some point while in Dubai Samuel Stephens met my husband Mahmoud Hussein, impressed the hell out of him, and they became business partners as well as friends. I thought Samuel Stephens, the tall and beautiful young biracial man from Boston might be one of my husband's male lovers, but he was not. Samuel told me that a beautiful, intelligent woman like me shouldn't waste my time or my life in a place like Saudi Arabia, playing wife for a man like Mahmoud, who secretly lusts after other males.
The first time I saw my future wife Halima Saoud-Solomon, the young Saudi Arabian Muslim woman was sitting in the Saint Laurent Mall food court, all by herself, eating a plate of Chinese food like only a depressed woman could. Alright, I wanted to start a book club with Halima Saoud along with a "save the ducklings" type of society. In Islam, we don't think the Creator of the Universe is an old white guy. Like a lot of brothers out there, I find ladies from the Middle East utterly fascinating. When those words left the pretty young Arab woman's lips, I smiled and gave Halima Saoud a long look. Even in a diverse spot like Ottawa, they're not used to seeing Black men with Arab women.
I'm the six-foot-tall, brown-skinned and dark-eyed Afro-Persian beauty you can't take your eyes off as I stride through the Boston University campus. Clad in my long blue winter jacket over dark blue jeans, my hair covered by a fashionable White hijab, I look hotter than most of the bare-headed Infidel chicks you see walking around downtown in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. A blond-haired White guy freezes while I lock eyes with him. A tall, blonde-haired young White woman chews on her pencil while trying not to gawk at the African lion sitting twenty feet from her computer terminal. Her eyes swivel in the direction of the Black scholar that sits alone, oblivious to the world around him as he reads.