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Outside of clan Kagame’s centuries-old family compound in the City of Butare, the Rwandan sun blazed hotly, heating up the eastern African countryside like a furnace. After spending four long and eventful years studying civil engineering at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, Patrick Kagame had nearly forgotten how hot his birthplace of Butare could be. The very air in metropolitan Butare felt like the surface of the sun…
Sweating profusely, Patrick briefly wished he were still in the City of Ottawa. Those Canadian winters had a way of giving a man from the tropics the blues, in more ways than one. Somehow, though, Patrick, hailing from one of the world’s hottest countries, the Republic of Rwanda, adapted to the Ontario winters. To the point that he joined the Alpine Skiing Club at school, becoming the first black student to do so in the club’s decades-long history at Carleton University. Patrick surprised himself and others as he took to alpine skiing like a cat takes to hunting mice.
Three days after he landed at the Kigali International Airport, Patrick Kagame was still getting used to the heat. The young man was relieved to see his hometown in good shape, and had the house to himself since his parents Jacques and Marie Kagame were visiting relatives in the City of Kigali. Patrick was indeed glad to be home.
Oh, Patrick definitely missed his friends and colleagues in the Canadian Capital, just like he missed his old lab in the Minto Center at Carleton University. For over four years, Ottawa was his home and Carleton University was his domain. Still, he graduated and had to move on. Such was life. He was glad to be home, but felt like there was something missing. Lucky for Patrick, an old friend came by to give him one hell of a homecoming present.
“Hot damn it, Khadija, I’ve missed you so much,” Patrick Kagame whispered, smiling as he beheld his beloved Khadija Elmi in all of her glory. The six-foot-tall, statuesque and very voluptuous Somali woman looked absolutely stunning, her dark brown glistening in the late afternoon sunlight as she leaned against the balcony, without a care in the world. Inside his house in the town of Butare, Rwanda, away from prying eyes, they were together at last.
To say that Patrick Kagame, a practicing Catholic and the eldest son of a proud Tutsi family and Khadija Ismail, the eldest daughter of a Somali Muslim family, came from different worlds would have been the understatement of the century. In Rwanda, a beautiful and complex nation still healing from the legacy of the Tutsi/Hutu genocide, the Somalis were something of a cypher.
With their Islamic faith and bad reputation, the Somalis of Rwanda often bahis firmaları felt persecuted regardless of who was in power. Both Tutsis and Hutus hated Somali-Rwandans with a passion. Nevertheless, from early on, Patrick and Khadija, who lived in the same neighborhood in western Butare, struck a friendship that endured. Patrick still remembered how desperately Khadija clung to him the day he revealed to her that his parents were sending him to study in Canada.
“Don’t forget me, Patrick, and don’t marry one of these white women either,” Khadija said, hugging Patrick fiercely, and he smiled and nodded at her, then swore to high heaven that he would never forget her. Fast forward four years and a twenty-two-year-old Patrick Kagame was back in Rwanda with his fancy engineering degree from a Canadian university. The tall, mahogany-hued and scrawny youth that Khadija remembered had morphed into a brawny, handsome young man.
Unbeknownst to Patrick, Khadija Ismail was now even more of an outcast, having been thrown out by her parents for refusing to marry a “nice Somali lad”. The day Patrick’s mother Marie revealed to Khadija that he was coming back to Rwanda, the young Somali woman’s heart soared with joy. Khadija hadn’t seen her Patrick in four years, and although there had been plenty of men in the wild young woman’s life in his absence, she never forgot him.
“Well, don’t just stand and stare,” Khadija said teasingly, hands on her hips, thrusting her fabulous chest forward defiantly, a move which didn’t escape Patrick’s keen gaze. Grinning, Patrick rose from his chair and walked up to Khadija as if entranced. Khadija smiled cockily as Patrick wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, until their faces were inches apart. All this time studying in Canada had done Patrick some good, for before, he’d never been this bold with her. Whatever change came over Patrick, Khadija definitely liked it.
“How I’ve missed you, my dear,” Patrick said, and then he took Khadija’s face in his hands and kissed her. Khadija’s heart soared as Patrick kissed her full and deep, and then his hands roamed all over her body, sending tendrils of pleasure coursing through her. A shocked little gasp escaped her lips when Patrick grasped her rather ample derriere and gave it a good squeeze.
“Hmmm, you’ve learned some things in Ottawa, I see,” Khadija whispered, and Patrick laughed, then took her hand and led her back into the house. They rushed through the living room, stumbled past the kitchen and finally tumbled onto the bed. Once there, Patrick hastily removed his clothes, and a smiling Khadija ran her eager hands all over his body.
“Oh, I’m anxious to show you,” Patrick said, kaçak iddaa grinning as he kissed Khadija’s full lips, then caressed her large, firm breasts. Slowly, gently, Patrick kissed a path from Khadija’s lips to her breasts, flicking his tongue over the areolas and pinching her nipples. Khadija giggled softly and stretched luxuriously on Patrick’s king-sized bed, loving what he was doing to her. Licking her lips, Khadija fixed her gaze on Patrick, who was licking his way toward a very obvious target.
“Let’s see if you’ve learned anything since I last saw you,” Khadija said, spreading her thick, sexy brown thighs invitingly, and Patrick grinned wolfishly, a luscious gleam in his dark eyes. Patrick buried his handsome face between Khadija’s legs, and began eating her pussy slowly, taking his sweet time as he explored and tasted her. Khadija leaned back on the bed, resting on her haunches, and took a deep breath as Patrick’s tongue and fingers burrowed into her womanly folds, going to places that hadn’t been touched in a long time.
“How am I doing so far?” Patrick paused to say, his mouth slick with Khadija’s juices, and instead of answering, a smiling Khadija grabbed his neck and forced him down on her crotch. Patrick got the hint and busied himself licking her pussy, sliding his fingers deep inside of her and twisting them this way and that. Khadija licked her lips and closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax and enjoy what Patrick was doing to her.
“Don’t stop,” Khadija said softly, her eyes still closed. With one hand she pinched her nipples, and with the other she rubbed the back of Patrick’s head encouragingly. Patrick continued to tease the hell out of Khadija’s cunt, and he was delighted that even after four years absence, he still knew her body like he knew the back of his hand. A wonderfully wicked idea sprang into Patrick’s dirty mind as he lapped away at Khadija’s cunt. The question is, would she go for it? Only one way to find out…
“Khadija, I want a shot at that ass,” Patrick said, and Khadija’s eyes snapped open and she looked at him pensively. Shrugging, she got on all fours, and Patrick’s eyes widened as he beheld Khadija’s thick, wonderfully round Somali derriere. Grinning, he kissed Khadija’s butt, and then she spread her big ass cheeks wide open, exposing a fairly obvious target. Khadija’s asshole stared at him invitingly, and Patrick silently thanked his lucky stars.
“Patrick, what’s the frigging hold up? This ass isn’t going to eat itself,” Khadija said impatiently, and Patrick got to work at once. Patrick wormed his tongue into Khadija’s spread ass cheeks, making his way into her asshole. Along the way he inhaled the wonderful fragrance kaçak bahis of freshly washed, hot and tasty black female booty of the Somali variety. Khadija moaned deeply and thrust her derriere into Patrick’s face as he began munching on her butt hole, eating her ass like it’s groceries, as they say…
Khadija closed her eyes and lay on the bed, face down and ass up, loving what Patrick was doing to her. The sexy Rwandan stud licked her ass, his tongue sliding deep into the tightest of spots, reaching into the deepest reaches of her ass. Khadija slid two fingers into her pussy, which was wet as a puddle at this point, and masturbated to a guilty pleasure as Patrick ate her ass. A little while later, her passionate, orgasmic screams filled the Kagame family compound…
“Dammit, Patrick, I truly did miss you,” Khadija said breathlessly as a smiling Patrick pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Grinning, Khadija pushed Patrick back on the bed and climbed on top of him. Grabbing his long and thick, uncircumcised dick, she stroked it, and then, without breaking eye contact, Khadija took Patrick’s manhood into her mouth. The Rwanda stud sighed happily as Khadija began sucking his dick as if it were a lollipop.
“Hmmm, now that’s what I’m talking about, ” Patrick whispered contentedly as Khadija sucked his dick. In no time at all his Somali goddess had him harder a rock. Wrapping his arms around Khadija, Patrick positioned her on top of him. Khadija straddled Patrick, and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. They exchanged a smile, and then, without another word, they began making love. With a swift thrust, Patrick entered Khadija, and she gritted her teeth and locked eyes with him.
“Harder, dammit, Patrick, you’re not fucking one of your foreign bitches, you’re dealing with me,” Khadija said, her voice harsh, sexy and scary at the same time. Patrick nodded, smiled and then began fucking her roughly, slamming his dick into her cunt with all of his might. If the Somali goddess wanted to feel the power of the Tutsi pole, well, she came to the right place.
Patrick put Khadija on all fours and began pounding away at her big ass, loving the way it jiggled under his thrusts. That’s when Khadija went buck-wild, screaming like a banshee and urging Patrick to fuck her harder. The Tutsi stud was more than happy to oblige, slapping Khadija’s ass and pulling on her long, silky black hair, which she usually hid away under a Hijab, as he fucked her. He loved taking her like this more than he could say…
“Welcome home, my love,” Khadija whispered into Patrick’s ear, several passionate hours later, as they lay in bed, sweaty and exhausted but happy. Patrick looked at Khadija and smiled, then he kissed her. Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness fell. Patrick smiled in the dark as Khadija fell asleep in his arms. It’s good to be home, Patrick thought. At last, he was at peace.
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