SannaBlonde82
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 15, 2017
- Posts
- 431
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.
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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