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Life as a psychiatrist in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, can certainly be more thrilling than I would have thought possible. My name is Minerva Suleiman and I’m a Lebanese Christian woman living in our nation’s fair Capital. I moved to Ottawa from my hometown of Montreal, Quebec, after graduating from McGill University. I wanted some peace and quiet, after the hectic thrill of life in Montreal. Little did I know that Ottawa only looks quiet.
Ottawa has a small-town feel but it’s a growing city. I got a whiff of that when I got catcalled by a bunch of young black guys while on my way to my office a few days ago. A lot of women would have been offended but not me. I find it flattering, especially since all they said was “hello gorgeous” instead of really rude and crude stuff.
I stand five feet eleven inches tall, with light bronze skin, long curly black hair and light brown eyes. Anyone looking at me would see a twenty-something Middle-Eastern woman clad in stylish business attire. That’s what they’re meant to see. Attractiveness, professionalism and competence, that’s what my carefully crafted appearance is meant to convey. Underneath it all, I’m one freaky chick.
Last year, I had a passionate affair with Trevor Whitaker, a tall, good-looking Jamaican-born and Ottawa-based lawyer I met in my building. Trevor studied Law at the University of Ottawa, and practices criminal law in Ottawa. Had an office in my building for a while. Although he was happily married to an Afro-Caribbean woman whom he has a son with, Trevor couldn’t keep his hands off me. We used to fuck a lot in his office and in mine, before Trevor packed up and left for Toronto. I miss him sometimes.
I meet all kinds of fascinating and disturbed souls in my practice. Like my patient Mahmoud Alzahrani for example. This tall, good-looking young man hails from the City of Dammam, somewhere in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Born to a Saudi Arabian father tuzla escort and a Somali mother, Mahmoud has those exotic good looks common to biracial folks. He’s studying business administration at Carleton University, and like a lot of Muslim guys from the Gulf States, Mahmoud is having trouble adjusting to the ways of western society.
Mahmoud Alzahrani has anger issues when it comes to women, especially the feminist types he encounters on his racially diverse and pseudo-liberal university campus. Poor bastard, I thought smugly. Mahmoud hails from the most conservative place in the world. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is a country where women basically have no rights. I mean, Saudi women cannot drive, or leave the house without a male escort, or work without the expressed written permission of their father or brother.
My parents, Julian and Mariam Suleiman moved to Montreal, Quebec, in the 1980s from their hometown of Nabatieh, Lebanon. Although I was born and raised in Quebec, I consider myself Lebanese-Canadian, and am very much in touch with Arab culture. I speak Arabic fluently. I’ve visited Lebanon a few times, always with my family. Compared to Canada, Lebanon is very conservative, especially when it comes to women’s rights, but Lebanon is leaps and bounds ahead of Saudi Arabia, that’s for damn sure.
The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is the one country in the Arab world, if not the entire planet, that you couldn’t pay me to visit. I must admit that I thought all Saudi males were sexist control freaks, and this must have colored my interactions with Mahmoud, my twenty-year-old patient. Look, I may be a psychiatrist with a keen insight into the human soul, that doesn’t mean that I don’t have prejudices of my own. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be a person. I’d be an angel or something.
Mahmoud told me about an incident at his dorm where he watched a drunken white female student get in her Asian göztepe escort boyfriend’s face and repeatedly hit him, and when campus police came, they hauled the young man away even though, according to Mahmoud, the female was the aggressor, not the male. Canadian laws are biased against men, Mahmoud said angrily, quietly fuming as he sat on a plush couch ten meters from me.
The world isn’t fair, I said to Mahmoud, who smiled wistfully and shrugged. For a moment, he looked out the window of my Bank Street office, located in a high-rise building in downtown Ottawa. I got a good deal on the place because one of the building’s co-owners, Michael Abdullahi, is a Lebanese Christian businessman who’s kind of sweet on me.
As Mahmoud looked out the window, I looked at him. Tall, dark and handsome, the Afro-Arabian stud is definitely easy on the eyes. Mahmoud’s roughly handsome features are a wonderful blend of African and Arabian, due to his mixed parentage. I’ve looked him up. Mahmoud’s parents, Khaled Alzahrani and Amina Osman, are wealthy. His father works in the oil and gas industry in Saudi Arabia, and the dude has dough up the yin yang.
Lots of wealthy Saudi Arabian families send their sons and daughters to study in prestigious universities in the United States of America, Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom and New Zealand. Western education is something a lot of Arabs find impressive, and they’re not alone in that regard. I cleared my throat, interrupting Mahmoud’s reverie, and the young man looked at me, a look of smoldering intensity in those depthless eyes of his.
Sorry I was lost in thought, Mahmoud said with a quick smile, and I nodded. For some reason, my heart skipped a beat. I nodded, and then told him that our session was over. Mahmoud nodded, wished me a good day and thanked me for my time, then he left. Clad in a red silk shirt, black silk pants and black Timberland boots, Mahmoud üsküdar escort cut an impressive, downright dashing figure as he swiftly exited my office. Cute butt too, I thought, smiling wickedly.
That night, as I lay on my bed, stark naked as is my custom, I pleasured myself while thinking of Mahmoud Alzahrani, the manly biracial stud from Saudi Arabia. In my fantasy, Mahmoud stormed into my office, grabbed me, smacked me hard across the face and called me a slut. Then he forced me on my knees and made me suck his long and thick, Afro-Arabian cock.
As I gagged on his big dark cock, Mahmoud grabbed my hair and made me choke on his manhood. Berating me in Arabic, he then laid me on my desk, yanked down my skirt, laughed at the fact that I had no panties on, and shoved his dick into my cunt. Hard and fast Mahmoud pounded away at me, slamming his dick into me. I cried out in pleasure, moaning deeply and begging Mahmoud for more. For I absolutely loved the feel of his big Islamic dick inside of my Lebanese Christian pussy.
After fucking me until I begged for mercy, Mahmoud pulled his dick out of my snatch and forced me on my knees again. Smiling wickedly, Mahmoud jerked off, stroking his long and thick, magnificently dark cock and ultimately came on my face. Till next time slut, Mahmoud said, winking at me as he readjusted his clothes, then left my office.
My eyes snapped open, and I sighed happily as I came. I lay there, alone in the silent dark, smiling wickedly as I thought of Mahmoud Alzahrani, the gorgeous Afro-Arabian Muslim stud, and that sinfully sexy body of his. I’m a Lebanese Christian woman and Muslim guys like him are definitely the sort of conniving, dangerous lotharios I should be staying away from.
Yet, I honestly can that every time I see the handsome Mahmoud Alzahrani walk into my office, seeking therapy from me, I have to stay calm. Why? Simply because I want to leap from my desk, fall on my knees before this dark prince and suck his dick. I may seem like a prim and proper, highly educated female professional but underneath it all, I am a freaky woman, like I said before. What can I say? I’m just a slut with a Ph.D. We do exist!
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