The man from Algiers

SannaBlonde82

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The man from Algiers (closed for makofin)

The hard and mysterious beat blocked out all other sound. It was friday night and Sannas telephone glared 01.30, but the late hour didn’t deter her now. With her colleague Maria in tow she moved out onto the hot and sweaty dancefloor, where the eyes of horny men on the hunt swarmed in on them. Before their entrance, sipping wine at the bar, Maria had looked out gleefully on the strobe-lit dancefloor, half-shouting in Sannas ear:

‘My god, there’s not a swedish guy out there!

Sanna nodded, shouting back:
‘They’re too drunk to dance!’

It was true. They both knew it, they were both in their mid-30’s and had enough experience of swedish men to know all about their alcohol habits. Even if they had been able to pick up a woman at this point, they would never be able to get it up. It was a badly-hidden secret that every swedish woman knew. Just looking about now, Sanna and Maria could identify pale-faced drunks moving about the club making fools of themselves.

On the dancefloor though, the men were different. Dark-skinned, sober or at least sober enough, handsome, charming, complete with dance skills and flirting manoeuvres. It was like two different races. And well, it was. But Sanna and Maria didn’t believe in that kind of analysis. It was just social constructions - swedish men could learn to stop drinking so damn much, just as well as, say, arab men could learn to treat their women better.

Well whatever. Right now, right here - the two swedish women were having an exciting time surrounded by men of non-european ethnicity, being given their undivided attention.

Maria was prey. That is, she was single and looking. And would have no qualms about letting one of these hot guys take her home. To be completely honest, she was dying to get laid.

For Sanna it was different. She was married, and these men were just fantasies, and thinking about them later, them ogling her, even touching her - would feed her imagination when making love to her extremely swedish husband later. And not to speak of her masturbation sessions.

But for the men, even the ones who had seen her ring, or even in brief conversation been informed of her marital status, she was still prey. For many, even more so than Maria. The thought of fucking the brains out of a married, swedish woman, getting such a lovely prize to suck on their cocks, well that was the holy grail. Maria had informed Sanna of exactly this, but she rejected it with a laugh.

But just two hours later, Sanna would find herself in the backseat of a car like some whore, half-naked and fucked hard, an Algerian man finishing off by shooting his load over her face. It was the first time she cheated on her husband. And she hadn’t even meant to.

Putting the guilt of cheating on her husband aside for a moment - Sanna would see her one-night stand as a symbol over women’s lib, a feminist initiative - she was acting like any man would - sleeping with whoever she wanted and not accepting slut-shaming for it.

Many women reasoned this way, and whatever the ‘truth’, for men from countries without ‘liberated’ women Sweden was a goldmine. Not only did they have these unbelievably beautiful and sexy women everywhere, they also seemed very displeased with their fellow countrymen and longed for the treatment a dark-skinned man could offer them. If you played your cards right, it was paradise. And not only that, it seemed as if many swedish women longed to be used as sluts. Swedish men appeared weak, softened, cowardly even. So there were hoards of horny, desperate swedish women wanting nothing more than to be fucked properly.

As things would turn out, Sanna was no exception. Not at all.

Maria was a slut. Sanna knew it and Maria too, they had become good friends and spoke openly about it. The same night that Sanna had her pussy pounded by the Algerian, Maria had told Sanna about how she had fucked her way through almost every ethnicity there was amongst immigrants in Sweden: Marocko, Algeria, Nigeria, Somalia, Ethiopia, Lebanon, Turkey, Iraq. She was 37 but hadn’t had a swedish cock in 16 years.

They giggled, laughed about it. Sanna told her she was crazy. On the one hand, she was slightly envious of Marias free spirit, on the other hand she had huge issues with these men on a political and cultural level. Whatever Maria told her about the sexual prowess of her Arab and African lovers, the fact remained that many of them were misogynistic, male chauvinist pigs. Men who thought women belonged in the kitchen and were only good for sex, cooking and child-rearing. Men who opposed all kinds of feminism, who didn’t even respect basic human rights for women like the right to vote. It wasn’t the kind of men Sanna wanted to have anything to do with. They were just as bad as the right-wing men from Christian culture who denied women freedom. To be honest, she hated them all. Yes, men like her husband may sometimes be a bit soft and compliant – but she preferred that everyday of the week to a misogynist.

Standing there, Sanna thought briefly about her daughter who had just turned 18. Sanna had been that age when Teresa was born, and she was pleased that Teresa was already so mature and so intelligent, and she was pleased with herself because she and Dan (who was Teresas stepdad and had been for 12 years) had raised a girl who had the same outlook on things as Sanna did. A modern feminist. But the main reason she thought about Teresa right now at this moment, was because unlike Sanna, her daughter had grown up and gone to school surrounded by men from Arab and African countries, and she had suspected that Teresa had gone to bed with one or two.. It irritated her somewhat, because even if Teresa was in complete agreement with her on the misogynist angle, she had still chosen to let them inside her.. God. She didn’t like it much. Dan hated it even more. Luckily, none of the men turned out to be boyfriend material.

So, it was a slightly confused Sanna who had returned to the bar, leaving Maria alone with some guy on the dance-floor. She was very much pro-immigration, she despised the racist conservative elements who screamed bloody murder about Islam, but she also had major issues with these more backward cultures who came here to this country.

And here one came up to her, smiling. Sanna turned to look at Maria, who with a sly and teasing smile waved at her, leaving Sanna there to fend for herself. She recognized him from earlier, he’d checked her out at the bar a while ago. Sanna guessed he was north African and probably a few years younger than her, maybe 28-30 or something. He was strikingly handsome, muscular and even a bit over-weight, taller than her. And he looked hard. Tough. Sanna wondered if maybe it was the strangely dark and mystic techno beat that made him seem even more tougher than he was. He smiled a big grin. Like she was his already. It irritated her. But it was also humanly impossible for Sanna to do anything else than smile back, such was his radiance and charm.
 
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Farhan stood at the bar, alone, sipping his mineral water, his dark brown eyes scanning the scores of European females out on the dance floor or about the nightclub. Most were dressed as sluts, exposing as much skin as was permissable in public. This was not permitted in his home country of Algiers of course, unless you were of European hertiage. Since his arrival in Sweden, a little more than a year ago, Farhan had seduced many young and more than willing beautiful females. It was so easy it seemed, most were desperate to hook up with a man of arabic or african descent other than their white native counterparts. Maybe because western Europeans males were so weak and passive, preferring to drink alcohol and do drugs. Whatever, Farhan was more than happy to immigrate to a country, collect welfare benefits and dispoil the women. As far as Farhan was concerned women were made by Allah to be subservant and totally obediant for muslim males.

The handsome muslim male knew how the game was played. In a country were most females considered their selves liberal and liberated, deep down inside they were submissive as nature intended. It only took a strong dominate male to make them submit. And Farhan was a predator. Already bored with the willing too easy single females, he desired more of a challenge. Married women were harder to tempt and more of a prize. There was nothing better than to make an attached female betray her marriage vows and offer their pussy to a better man.

Dispite the many attractive women at the crowed club, Farhan's focus centered on a very beautiful blonde, with a perfect ass and tempting delightful breasts. She had creamy white skin and blue eyes. Earlier she had walked past him, which attracted his attention and his bold eyes had undressed her. She had noticed him, he knew, just had he noticed the wedding ring on her finger. Farhan saw that she was with another female who was nothing but a common desperate whore. And her husband was no where in attendance. Very soon the blonde would be kneeling submissively at his feet, wanting to worship him like a God. She was going prove her devotion and fully submit to his whims.

Finally when the moment was right, and the perfect song was playing, Farhan approached the beautiful married blonde. His smile was full of confidence as he looked her in the eyes. She smiled back with a hint of shyness ?

" Pleased to meet you. I couldn't help but admire your beauty...would you like to dance with me ? " Farhan asked directly, not taking his bold and confident eyes off of her own.
 
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It was approaching 2 am and Sanna was thinking about heading home. Well, actually she should be home already. If it hadn't been for Maria she would have been. And now this guy, this very handsome guy asking her to dance. OK. She couldn't resist. Just one last dance and then take a cab home to her waiting husband. For a brief moment Sanna thought about her daughter, who had been on a date tonight. She'd been a bit worried about Teresa the last month or so. She seemed to be changing and Sanna wasn't too happy about that.. Oh well, her thoughts were broken off by this perfect hunk of a guy smiling.

Accepting his invitation, they moved across the dancefloor, her suitor taking her hand and finding a spot on the other side of it. Sanna looked around for Maria, but she couldn't see her and it wasn't at all improbable that she'd already left. It would be typical Maria.

The song was slower, and Sanna was drawn in by his hands on her hips, far too close and too intimate at this stage. How arrogant, how presumptuous, how.. naughty of him.

They wouldn't be dancing for long though. Sanna would be leaving very soon. And not alone.

* * * * *

Teresa looked at her mirror selfie and pondered over if she should put it on Tinder or not. She had done a half-turn, pushing her hip and ass towards the mirror. She couldn’t help smiling to herself, she looked good. Her long blonde hair was carelessly held up with a scrunchie, and all she was wearing was a pair of pink hip-hugger panties.

Why was she even doing Tinder?? Teresa was hardly the kind of girl who had trouble finding guys. Well, they found her. She was a natural beauty with a perfect body, intelligent and sociable, popular and easy-going. Three months ago she became 18, and despite her looks and manner she had actually never had a boyfriend. She had had sex three times - all three occasions the last past year and all of them just short flings, non-starters where she had broken off with them after 3-4 weeks. The sex had been nothing impressive the first two times but the third guy, a black boy, had been just incredible. It had rocked her world. She had orgasmed several times, and he had been more direct and assertive, rough even, than the other two.

All three guys were of non-european ethnicity. For Teresa it wasn’t even an issue - she had grown up all her life with immigrants of the first and second generation around her and she didn’t pay it any mind. To be honest, she wasn’t even interested in swedish or nordic boys, and never had been. Her mother and her fathers (that is both her real father who she hardly ever met, and her stepdad who had lived with them since Teresa was 6), thought all this was a bit weird. Why couldn’t she just a find a nice decent swedish boyfriend? She had called them racists on a few occasions, thus killing any further discussion on the matter.

No she liked the dark-skinned boys. She realized a while back that her favorites were the black guys. Black as possible. Someone had told her that was just as racist too, which she ignored. She couldn’t help it, she just found them unbelievably hot. That many of these men didn’t necessarily share her world view or values didn’t bother her so much. She was of the opinion that if she found a guy she wanted a long-term thing with, she was strong and grounded enough to change them. And if she couldn't, well then she'd just move on.

So, Tinder. Teresa had just opened an account, so it was all new to her. She had grown tired of fending off guys wherever she went - at school, in bars, on the street, on beaches - so she thought she’d give Tinder a chance to help her make some better choices in peace and quiet. So here she was. She decided to use the pic.

A week later she went on a date with a black guy, originally from Ghana. She had told her parents she was going on a date, but had left out two vital pieces of information she knew would upset them: He was an ex-con. And he was 42 years old.
 
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Farhan had a feeling the married blonde would not refuse his offer to dance. Before the night was over she would be his, to do whatever he wished. Farhan's hands grasped her by the hips pulling her close. The scent of her perfume was pleasant as well as the womanly soft curves of her body. Farhan 's hand found the small of her back and he pressed her near, making the blonde aware of his arousal. The fact that she was married turned him on even more. What kind of man would permit his wife to go out to a club, unescorted and unattended, amongest so many hungary aggressive wolves, Farhan wondered. Whatever the reason it only worked in his favor. Her husband was probably like the rest of the weak passive Swedish males, who were afraid or refused to defend their women.

" What is your name, beautiful one ? " Farhan asked, his strong hand cupping the blonde's ample and round ass cheek...she did not exactly dare to protest nor did she slap his face and walk away...

" And if you like I can give you a ride home, unless you would prefer to go to an after hour party my friends are having. " Farhan added.


******** ******** ********* ********* *********
 
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"Sanna... And you.. what's your name?"

She couldn't believe his cheekiness, his hands on her. Who the hell did he think he was? But my god what a hunk.. Sanna felt chosen. In her life, this kind of male had seldom shown interest in her. For once, one did. She couldn't help being flattered. But no, going to a party with him was out of the question. But yeah, when they had finished dancing, she wouldn't say no to a ride home, thank you..

* * * * *

Joseph had fallen asleep at midnight. His wife and stepdaughter weren’t home, and he’d sworn to stay awake until they were. But he was too tired after a horribly long shift at the hospital. At 4 am he woke up with a start, and still the bed was empty. No Sanna. Where the hell was she?? He got up and walked down the hall to Teresas room. Empty. What the fuck was going on in his home?

Picking up his phone, he was at least hoping for texts from them. There was one, from Sanna.

“Hi love, just to say I’ll be a little late... Maria is in that mood u know. Don’t wait up! X”

She’d sent it at 1. Three hours ago. Joseph deliberated with himself if he should call her but decided to just text and ask if she was on her way. He knew his wife could take care of herself and trusted her more than he trusted himself – and ordinarily he would place the same amount of trust in his daughter (he had stopped thinking of her as his stepdaughter years ago). But Teresa had been acting out the last couple of months. Nothing over the top, just her general attitude and an escalating interest in shallow things she hadn’t been into before – clothes, make-up, boys. It was ordinary teenage stuff Joseph had vainly hoped she would skip. But it just seemed as she was doing all that a bit later than other girls. Perhaps that was better, he thought hopefully.

She had gone out at 8 and said she would be home “at a reasonable hour”. She was 18 and he couldn’t really make a big deal out of it, but still. She was on a date. With a man she’d never met before. It was enough to send any father around the bend, whatever the daughter’s age. Lying in bed thinking about this, he heard the unmistakable sound of high heels up the garden path and knew straight away it was Teresa. And two minutes later she stuck her head through the bedroom door.

“Hey.. where’s mom??”
It was typical of this new edition of his daughter to not ask how he was doing. He didn’t like it much.

“Yes, I’m fine thank you… and you? How was your date?”
She rolled her eyes at him, waiting for him to answer the question.
“She’s out with Maria…”
“Still??”

Teresa was just as surprised at this as he was. Joseph looked at her and was fairly convinced the date had not just had dinner with her but probably much more. As Teresa closed the bedroom door with a “goodnight”, he opened safari on his iPhone and was soon on pornhub. Two minutes later he ejaculated into a sock after watching some interracial porn. He loathed himself for it, that it made him cum so fast - seeing a young woman, in some ways similar to his daughter, getting fucked silly by a huge black cock. He hated these men, the African and Asian men who walked his streets, took his Swedish women. Yes, there were political reasons (which he mostly hid, especially from his sooo politically correct wife), but they were mainly personal reasons. These foreign men made him feel weak and inferior, and he had had altercations with some through work and he always felt they treated him arrogantly.

But here he was, a wet sock in one hand and his phone in the other.
 
" Sanna...and you...whats your name ? ''

" My name is Farhan. I am from Algeirs. I am very pleased to meet you Sanni. " he said politely, his brown eyes looking directly into her blue ones. Meeting with no resistance, the aggressive immigrant continued to explore her backside while they danced. Sanni made her excuses, refusing to go to the after hours party but accepted a ride home. After the song ended, Farhan led her by the arm and escorted her towards the door. Sanni scanned the crowd looking for her friend, Maria, but she was no where to be found.

" Your friend seems to have left you here. Nevertheless I will drive you home safely. " Farhan stated, taking her hand and guiding Sanna to the exit. Once on the street the cool night air was somewhat refreshing and brisk. Farhan held her hand pocessively like the prize she was, ignoring several passerbys who stared at the couple with some hostility or contempt. They walked about a block before coming to a red Mercedes. Farhan opened the passenger door for her, being a gentleman and an impressed Sanni climbed into the seat, flashing her shapely legs while doing so.

Farhan climbed behind the wheel. He inserted the keys into the ignition but did not start the engine. " Are you positive Sanni that you do not want to go to this after hour event with me. I think you would enjoy it. Text your husband and make an excuse. I promise you will not regret your decision. "

Sanna seemed to be thinking his offer over. Farhan reached out and tilted her chin upwards and kissed her lips, trying to convince her otherwise. The blonde wife whimpered softly but did not pull away...
 
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Sanna ignored the fact that he mispronounced her name and called her Sanni. She guessed it was a language problem. And it was easier to ignore considering what his hands were doing to her, how it made her feel. And those eyes, and that body.. She felt like a teenager again, almost giggling at the attention. She should be at home next to her husband in bed, but something pulled at her...

As they walked out of the club, her arm in his, she couldn't help notice how some people stared - mostly other swedes, swedish men. She could feel the disdain in their glaring. And it made her defiant. Who were they to judge??

It was nice to be escorted like this, and to such a nice car! And that he actually could drive and hadn't drunk himself into a stupor.

And then Farhan kissed her. Just like that. Like the most natural thing in the world. It stirred in Sanna, in her gut. Warm and... aroused.

But she couldn't go to a party with him.

"No... I have to go home. Please".
 
Sanna did not resist his kiss but insisted that she could not go to the party with him and asked if he would please take her home.

" Yes Sanni, I will take you home soon. " Farhan stated. But he was in no hurry.

Encouraged by her response to his kiss he pulled her close and kissed her again, this time it was not as gentle as the first but filled with more intensity and passion. Farhan's very experienced tongue ran across her full lips, and then slipped inside to explore her mouth. Meanwhile his fingers found the swell of her cleavage and before Sanna knew what happened he was holding her naked breast, cupping it in his powerful hand. Farhan felt her body stiffen but this did not deter him. Within seconds her nipple was stiff under his skilled fingers as he pinched and caressed. Sanna moaned and arched her back, breaking off the kiss, but not really protesting. This gave him the opportunity to lick and suck her nipples, biting them softly at first in the process.

Now his hand touched her thigh near the stocking top and soon ran upwards over the soft skin towards the prize. Farhan's fingers lingered for a moment before finding the outside of her panties. The blonde wife whimpered and parted her legs slightly, giving him easier acess. Their was no doubt she was excited, her panties were wet. Farhan teased her, playing with her hot delicate married pussy for a while before ripping the skimpy materail from her hips. The next thing she knew Farhan reclined the seat back.

" Ahhh yes Sanni, you are very naughty. Your pussy is so wet. " Farhan smirked, his powerful hands forcing her legs further apart. The beautiful blonde looked helpless, her dress above her hips and her pussy exposed to this dominant handsome male.

" Soon I promise to ravish you. I will make you forget all about your husband. " Farhan said continuing to play with her cunt. All Sanna could do was whimper and moan and before long she was moving her hips, up and down, like she was dancing in the club. By now Farhan had his thick middle finger inserted in her hot tight pussy as she continued to move.

" Ahhh you like this don't you ? You like being dominated by a stranger who is not your husband. " Farhan grinned. The way her body moved faster gave her away as did the fact that Sanna's pussy spasmed and her tight cunt squeezed his digit. A scream escaped the married blonde's throat and she gushed all over Farhans finger.

A pleasant musky scent filled the car.

" Turn over now ! I shall teach you a lesson. " Farhan demanded. Sanna did as she was told. Farhan pulled down his trousers, pulling his massive hard cock from its confines.

" Tomorrow I will show you how I like my cock worshipped when I have more time, do you understand ? You will kneel at my feet and pleasure my cock for as long as I want you too. But for now I am going to fuck your hot married pussy. "

Sanna only nodded and whimpered.

Farhan was already hard and he took his big dick in his hand and ran it up and down the slick lips of her pussy to get his wet.

" It is so good to make a married woman betray her vows. To dominate her as nature intended. "
Farhan fit the massive purple head into her cunt. Sanna's eyes widened when she felt how big it really was. Slowly he went deeper...feeling how tight she was. Taking his time he began to thrust faster and harder. Farhan slapped her lilly white ass showing Sanna who was in charge. Reaching out he grabbed her long blonde hair and pulled her head back, ramming into her helpless cunt. This is why I love this country, the women exist to please the superior male, he thought to himself.

Farhan knew his cock was larger than the average European male. Sanna seemed to be loving every moment of her pounding from behind.

" Is my cock bigger than your husband, Sanni ? "He sneered, slapping her ass again without breaking stride. By now he was buried to the hilt, his massive cock buried deep inside impaling her like a little submissive fucktoy.

Sanna begged him to fuck her with his big brown dick. Farhan waited until she creamed all over his shaft before withdrawling his large member. There was nothing better than taking another man's wife and making her submit, he told himself. Using her hair he turned Sanna around thrusting his shiney dick in front of her flushed face. It only took three strokes with his hand and the cum shot from his cock onto her surprised pretty face, hitting her in the eye and hair. Smirking and spent he instructed Sanna to clean him up with her tongue.After a few minutes they both adjusted their clothes. Farhan started the car and pulled onto the street. Sanna gave him directions to her home. It was very late but he could care less this was not his problem.

" Tomorrow I will pick you up. I want you always in stockings and heels for me. This means you are feminine and shows you are submissive. A short skirt or dress but never slacks. Trousers are for males to wear only. " Farhan directed, expecting complete obediance and nothing but.
 
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Sanna hoped to god Joseph was asleep. Normally he slept like a log, but the fact that she was so late could have kept him up if she was unlucky. She peaked in through the bedroom door and yes, he was asleep. Thank god. Sanna went to the bathroom undressed. She didn’t have time for a shower now, so she took a damp towel and washed her genitals, face and breasts. There was dried cum in all those areas. Fucking hell. What have I done??

She thought about the endless squirts of hot semen.. the relentless pounding, the humiliating language that she would normally never ever accept.. jesus fucking christ.. But she couldn’t stand here and think about that now. Sanna finished off her clean-up operation and went to bed as quietly as she could and she was pretty sure Joseph didn’t notice anything. Before trying to sleep she answered Farhans text:

“Ok. See u at 11 then?”

Sanna tried to explain to herself what the hell she was up to right now. It was a one-night stand, she’d been used like a whore and even though it was wildly uncharacteristic and the most fucked-up thing she had ever done in her life – she felt strangely pleased with herself. She’d been brave, daring, careless and loving it. She’d been like all those men, banging whoever they please left right and centre without any guilt, without a thought to those they hurt. Yeah. She’d been one of those. Summing it up in her mind, she came to the conclusion that it was a feminist victory. Hurray!!

But she had also just agreed to see Farhan at a motel the next day. What was that? Well. It was what it was, and then she fell asleep.
 
Farhan checked the time. Sanna should be here soon, he thought. He was confident that she would show. Last night Farhan had used the beautiful married blonde for his pleasure but she had enjoyed it as well. Today he planned to dominate her completely, for hours on end, and teach her to obey him by using humiliation or whatever, so be it. Muslim men were the new rulers in their host country and deserved to be treated as such. Nine out of ten white European females preferred Arab or African males once they were introduced to the forbidden fruit. Women were simply made to please these powerful men and to be owned by them, having no other choice in the matter. Of course these European sluts had to be trained to obey their muslim masters first and foremost.

Impatient, Farhan texted Sanna, telling her not to be late. He didn't tolerate slothful behavior. It was best if she didn't displease him and bring out his cruel streak. Sanna had insisted that he not pick her up considering it too risky. Of course Farhan could care less if her husband found out. From now on his role in life was that of a useless cuckold.

Farhan texted his friend, Ishaq, asking him if he still planned to visit the hotel room at noon. He immediately texted back that he would be there.

At exactly 11: 03 there was a knock on the door. Farhan walked to the door and opened it, a stern look on his face upon seeing her...
 
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"But I thought we'd do some stuff together? And why can't you get the work done from home?"

Joseph looked at his wife from where he lay in bed, she was sitting on the bedside, fully dressed. He looked at the clock, it was 10 am.

"Yeah I know.. Sorry but I really have to go the office this time. Forgot some documents.. I'll be home some time this afternoon. Why don't you cook something nice and I'll bring a home a bottle of wine. We'll have dinner".

Sanna kissed Joseph and left. It wasn't unusual she had to work on saturdays, but she never went to the office. But she had no better lie to offer him. And he seemed to buy it.

She took a cab to the address Farhan had sent her. It was an industrial area on the outskirts of the city, 30 minutes by car from her house. She was surprised there could even be a motel in such an area. When she got out of the taxi, seeing it drive away, she looked around and could still not understand it. In front of her, was a five-storey building that was obviously deserted. Actually, the whole area looked deserted.

There had been offices in there, she could see some old neon signs, broken now. Next to it, there was a grey, concrete building, two storeys high, and on closer inspection she could read a simple sign reading "MOTEL 100". Nothing more.

Sanna walked up the three steel-grid steps that led to the front door, expecting to find a reception. But there wasn't one. Instead, there were two glass doors on each side of her, both leading into long corridors. Her phone buzzed. A text from Farhan. Just a four-code number, and what she guessed was a room number. 23. She saw a little electronic number pad by the door, and pressed the code. The door clicked, and she pushed it open.

Room 23 was almost at the end of the corridor, on the left side. She walked up to it and knocked. Fucking hell, what was she doing??
 
" You may come inside. " Farhan said. He could tell Sanna was somewhat nervous, most likely because this was not a side of the city she visited often. Sadly the crime rate was very high and there was alot of rapes. A neighborhood where a woman needed an escort and protection.

Sanna stepped into the small room. A large bed was in the middle, a coffee table and a sofa was nearby. There was a small kitchen and a bathroom with a shower. Farhan was pleased that she had wore the stockings and heels he had requested. From behind Farhan admired her ass, it was just as he preferred, nice and round.

" Would you like a glass of wine, Sanni ? " he asked. Farhan rarely drank alcohol, it was a weakness as far as he was concerned but he did not condone others that did. It seemed that most Swedes did. However he did indulge in a powerful potent drug known as hashish. Most of it was imported from his home country.

Farhan patiently waited for her answer. Some of his fellow immigrants used a date drug to administer to their victims. Farhan did not need to take advantage of his conquests. He wanted them willing and to remember every detail.
 

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"Sanna.. It's Sanna.."

She nodded as an answer to the offer of wine. It was too early for wine, but considering what she was doing, she felt she needed a drink. Farhan offered her some wine in a transparent plastic cup from the room's minibar. Not very romantic. But this wasn't romance. Sanna wasn't a stupid young girl, she knew exactly was she getting herself into - she thought she understood. But she didn't. Not really.

She looked around. It was the kind of seedy, cheap motel room she really only had seen on television or in movies. It wasn't dirty. But totally impersonal and.. cheap. The bed had a steel frame and a flowery, ugly cover, and the floor didn't even have a carpet - instead there was some kind of linoleum, easy to clean, Sanna thought to herself. The window was hidden by grey, vertical office blinds. Even in low-range hotel rooms you would find generic pictures om the wall, but here - nothing. But opposite the bed, above a small desk there was a big mirror, and looking at it Sanna could see herself, Farhan standing in front of her and and the whole bed.

Sanna took a big sip of the wine and looked at Farhan. She had to admit that he looked just as handsome here as he had at the club last night. Just looking at him now she could also feel him inside her, just like last night. Just a few hours ago. And here she was again. Ready for more. She knew it. He knew it.
 
Sanna, it's Sanna."

" I know but I will say it like I want. " Farhan stated because of his accent.

Farhan sat down beside Sanna, looking her over with his intense dark eyes. He was pleased that she had chose to wear stockings as told. He expected nothing less than complete obediance. Farhan could have easily spiked her wine with ectasy but had decided that he wouldn't need to do so. She had come her of her own free will. Once Sanna left later this evening, he was positive she would be back for more. Deep down inside females were naturally submissive and responded well to a dominate male.

" I am pleased that you came. You must have enjoyed our evening last night, am I correct ? Let us not pretend the reason that you are here." Farhan said pouring more wine into her empty plastic cup. Farhan undressed Sanna with his bold unwavering eyes.

" I want you to stand up and remove your dress for me. " Farhan stated in a firm tone of voice, expecting nothing less than to be obeyed. He did not engage in silly small talk.
 

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His apparent refusal to even attempt to pronounce her name correctly should maybe have told her something about his nature. And yes, well it did. And still, it almost excited her. Like what she was called didn't really matter now.

She nodded when he asked her if she enjoyed last night. Truthfully, she was still in a daze, a state of utter shock over what she had done and what he had done to her. A stranger fucking her brains out and squirting his cum all over her face. So had she "enjoyed" it? Well here he was. And here she was - nodding.

So when Farhan told her to remove her dress, she just stood up and obeyed. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Why the hell was that? It wasn't anything she pondered over at that moment. She would later though.

She stood in front of him, looking at those dark brown, serious eyes as they observed her, inspected her - and she undid the button at the top and reached back to push down the zipper. With a little wiggle and a push over her wide hips, the dress fell to the motel room floor. And Sanna stood there, waiting. In just her stockings, bra, thong and shoes.

She smiled at him, a nervous smile trying to gain some kind of assurance from him. She didn't get any. Just that look. That hard look.
 
Farhan inspected every inch of her lushious body, clad only in her sexy undergarments. Her body pleased him, just as he preferred. The stockings added to her feminine appeal because he had insisted that she wear them for him. Farhans dark eyes lingered on her white ass barely covered by a thong. He wanted to reach out and touch it but resisted the impulse. They had all day...

If she only knew the things he had planned for her, he thought. Farhan doubted that she she would leave of her own free will. No Sanna had come her to be dominated and submit to him. Finally he stood up behind her and grasped her thigh with a powerful hand and easily lifted her leg, placing it on top of the coffee table. His hand ran over the sheer materail, squeezing her thigh and calve. Meanwhile his other hand found the soft creamy flesh of her buttocks. Without a word, his hands explored her legs and fine white ass like he owned her. The married blonde belonged to him now to do as he wished.

Farhan's hands moved upwards, above her waist until they cupped her large and full breasts encased in the bra. Deciding it was not needed he quickly removed it, the fingers returning to her creamy white tits. Farhan squeezed and carressed their fullness as he wished, causing her nipples to stiffen. Suddenly he cruelly pinched the nipple between his fingertips causing pain. He laughed as Sanna winced and gasped in surprise...

" Did that hurt ? Very good, now get on top of the table on your hands and knees, your white ass in the air. " Farhan demanded. Once Sanna was in position Farhan wasted no more time showing her who was in control, bringing his firm down upon her exposed ass.

" I am going to punish you for your whorish behavior last night. Did you enjoy behaving like a married slut, dancing around and showing off your body ? "

While waiting for her answer Farhan brought his meaty palm down across her exposed white ass...
 
Farhan's hard pinches of her nipples caught her off-guard, it was such a physical statement of dominance that with other men she had almost always disliked, at least at this point. She enjoyed it during sex, even prompting Joseph to do so (which was a precise definition of their sexual problems - that she actually had to tell him to do it).

But like this, straight off the bat? But the pain returned pleasure, she could feel her body tremble and so when he commanded her up on the table on all fours, she didn't hesitate. The biggest trouble she had with getting up on the table wasn't of a psychological nature, but physical. From her arousal, her legs were shaking and Sanna had to steady herself to climb up and find the right balance.

Without Farhan telling her to, she lowered her head towards the table surface, thus pushing her ass up in the air. Just doing that, made her even wetter.

And when he asked her if she had enjoyed her "whorish behavior" she said yes.
And when his hand landed hard on her ass-cheek, she groaned and looked up slightly.

The motel room was grey, and it was a grey day outside. A little light seeped in through the drawn blinds and she could feel it on her face. A short moment of reflection on her predicament, before the spanking commenced, her cheeks reddening. It hurt. But not too much, no. Because truthfully, at the core of her being - she knew very well that she deserved it. Deserved to be punished.
 
Farhan was in control, making this married white whore become totally submissive and subservant towards him. It wasn't any secret that deep down inside, most white european females absolutely craved to be dominated by a powerful male and since most of the passive and weak white males couldn't provide that anymore they naturally turned to the stronger and more aggressive muslim immigrants. That was why Sanna was here, posed on top of his coffee table, desperately seeking more attention from him.

" Yes ", she answered in response to if she enjoyed her whorish behavior last night.

His cock actually stiffened at the sight of her fine white ass, pushed upwards, offered to him, wanting to be used for his pleasure. Farhan was determined to prolong his pleasure and not in any hurry. Smirking, he touched the moist materail of her panties, finding out just how wet and excited the naughty wife was. His expert fingers played and teased her married cunt, increasing her excitement.

" Do you like that ? Do you know what happens to married wives that have naughty wet pussies ? They have to be punished by a superior muslim man other than their husbands. ''

Farhan's middle finger easily eased into the soft pink folds of Sanna's cunt. He was surprised just how tight she felt. Oh yes he was going to use and abuse her pussy all day and force her to submit to his wishes. This white bitch was going to learn to worship muslim cock.

" Tell me the truth, Sanna, is my finger bigger than your husband's little white dick ? "
 
They have to be punished by a superior muslim man other than their husbands..

Sanna strongly believed in the multi-cultural society, muslims living beside christians, arabs getting along with caucasians. It was just a matter of building the right institutions, the right politics would make it work. What Farhan was saying here - well it contradicted this, no? The muslim man as superior?

Didn't Farhan's world view correspond (inversely) nicely with the swedish right-wing men she detested so? One race superior to another?

It was deeply confusing, when bringing to the table as it were, her pussy. And here she was, actually ON a table offering her pussy. Offering her submission... Would she as readily offer her submission to a conservative white male who hated muslims?

It was a question she would be answering at a later date.

For now, she arched her back even more at Farhan's touch, his finger slipping in easily into her moistness. Oh god. She quivered slightly, and the small table she was on creaked. It wasn't bigger than that her hands were holding on to one edge of it, while her knees were close to the opposite edge.

No, his finger wasn't bigger than Joseph's dick. But the point was taken - she had felt it last night, the huge difference between the two men. Sanna had always shrugged off any correlation between cock-size and "manlihood" as male stupidity. But what do you do when confronted with a hard fact? That not only is the non-white alpha male cock bigger, stronger and more potent - but that despite yourself you find yourself enjoying it more than you could have ever imagined?

Sanna chose to submit. Give in to it.
 
Sanna chose not to answer his insulting question but the proof was in the pudding sort of speak. She had only been here less than fifteen minutes and already she had creamed her panties, acting submissive and like most of the rest of the European white females he and his friends had encountered. So willing to spread their legs for the invaders and make them welcome. And Farhan thought that there was nothing better that white submissive females. They were so easily tempted and eager to be dominated, dressing and behaving like whores in public and private, unlike the women from his home country. Yes, Farhan knew why Sanna was here, and what she wanted...

Farhan continued to play with her pussy with his expert fingers, making Sanna become more and more excited. His middle digit touched her exposed anus, testing it's tightness. Smirking, he took a purple vibrating bullet with a silver chain attached from his pocket, turned it on and ran it up and down on her slick pink pussy lips before placing against her puckered tight asshole.

He heard her gasp...

The Algerian smiled and inserted it ever so slightly...
 
Farhan had pulled her thong to one side, as he explored. She wasn’t experienced anally, yes she would sometimes use her fingers there but never more. She felt his finger press against her and before she knew it, something else - an object - entered her. Sanna jolted and gasped at the sensation as this object, already vibrating, moved up her asshole, slowly.

She wasn’t even in control of her own body because when Farhans toy buzzed just inside her anus, Sannas whole backside opened up even more for him. It felt so good, and she consciously suppressed a yelp of pleasure. She didn’t want him to hear her respond so well from anal stimulation. But the game was over, he knew very well.
 
Farhan had the married white female where he wanted, completely submitting to him. His cock swelled in his pants but he resisted the urge, for now at least, to use it on her. First Sanna had to learn to serve her new master, to do as he wished, giving every inch of her body to him. As far as Farhan was concerned, these white european whores deserved to be put in their place and used for his pleasure.

The purple bullet worked it's magic on her tight anus, while his experienced fingers did the same to her naughty and married cunt. Farhan knew the reason Sanna had come here today was to be used and wanting to be treated as a female. And the way that her body was responding was proof.

Farhan pushed the device totally inside her asshole, leaving only the chain exposed. Sneering he couldn't resist the urge to slap her ample white buttocks once again, wanting to turn it red or bright pink for some reason. Maybe because the sight of her creamy soft ass was an invitation to punish it for it's 'whiteness' or just the sheer desire to dominate her weakness.

" Just look at you whore. How come your married pussy is so wet ? " Farhan demanded.
 
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Teresa lay naked in her bed, with her phone. Last night she had gone on her date and it had been obvious from the get go that Akwasi only wanted one thing. And she had given it to him in a seedy motel in an area of the city that felt... bad. They'd had a few drinks at a bar first, then taken a cab there. MOTEL 100 was the horrible place's name.

She'd been really nervous, Teresa had never ever done anything at all like it. To go to a motel with a man she'd known for two hours, and fuck?

Somehow, before it happened, Teresa had made a conscious decision to do it, just for the simple reason she never had. It was like on a bucket-list for her.

Akwasi had fucked her good. Her body reacted well to his touch, she wasn't sure at first that she'd even be turned on by the whole situation once she was actually in it, there on the motelroom bed. But she did get aroused, fast. And Akwasi was experienced, she could sense it. But she also felt clearly that she was just a piece of meat to him. He had fucked her with a condom, she had an orgasm and he had finished off by taking the condom off and shooting his load over her face and tits.

It was implicit it seemed to them both that it was a one-night stand. Teresa had almost hoped that her beauty, her youth, her fantastic body, would have a stronger effect on him - but Akwasi didn't seem impressed to the extent that he was interested of any continuation.

So here she was, in her bed - on Tinder again. The thought that a new man was just a few swipes and touches of a screen away - if she so desired - filled her with an excitement in itself. Maybe not tonight... but soon. I want this again, she thought.. Teresa touched herself as she looked at a hot young arab guy.. hm.. he'll do...

***********

Sanna felt the thing slip inside her more, then lodging itself there. It surprised her that it felt good to have something up her ass.. And then the spanking.. her ass-cheeks warmed, started to hurt a bit but.. it was bearable.. and arousing. Jesus.. how could it be...?

She looked back at him and answered his question:

"it's cos' you make me wet.."

Sanna didn't like being called a whore, who did? But.. wasn't she being a whore..? No money involved but.. all the same.. Here she was. And she wanted him to fuck her. There were no two ways about it.
 
" It's cos' you make me wet. "

Farhan smiled. Yes the blonde's pussy was simply dripping with her excitement.

With a smirk Farhan ripped of his wife beater t-shirt and tossed it aside, revealing his muscled chest. Next he unsnapped his trousers and pushed them down and stepped out of them. Clad only in his tight briefs he moved in front of her, allowing Sanna to see the huge outline of his cock pressing against the thin materail. Sneering the Arab stud grabbed her long hair, pushing her pretty face forward until it was less than a mere inch from his massive bulge.

" Do you remember my big cock from last night ? How much you liked to worship it ? " he asked, " Well what are you waiting for ? "
 
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"I do..."

Sanna, still on all fours on the table, reached up with one hand and pulled at his underwear. The arab's half-erect cock folded out, presenting itself to her. It was already big and fat, animal-like. Beautifully light-brown in colour.

"God.. Farhan.. I.. don't know, what the hell am I doing.. this is absurd.." Sanna spoke the words, looking up at him, her hand now round the shaft, pulling at it. An aching in her.
 
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