So The Blackest Man on Earth called me during Ramadan. He invited me over but I didn’t think we would actually have sex due to the whole fasting thing. (I’ve asked a couple guys I work with whether they can have sex during Ramadan. I guess as long as it’s night and you’re married, it’s okay. Not married=not okay. I believe it’s supposed to be not married=not okay all the time but it’s something the guys I hung out with didn’t seem to practice.)

I don’t know what I thought we would do, hang out and talk maybe? But that isn’t what happened.Sex with him was awkward, mostly due to his lack of social skills (which, I imagine, was due to growing up as a child solider). It’s like we would be talking one minute and having sex the next.

His body was impressive, all tight lean muscle. And he had an incredibly perfect ass that I would have killed for.

But you would think that The Blackest Man on Earth would have a table leg stuffed down his pants, right? It would have actually scared me if he had, in a “whoa there! Where do you think you’re putting that?” kind of way.

I’m definitely not saying that he was small, because he wasn’t. He just wasn’t like “omg, that’s the biggest thing I’ve ever seen!” either. He was about the same size as any of the other largerish guys I’ve been with.

He told me that I was the first white girl that he had ever had sex with and the first non-African. He said no girl had ever sucked his dick.

Sexually he was kind of interesting. One of his favorite positions was one that no one had ever done quite the same before or since.

He had (apparently) incredible upper body strength. He would get on his knees and grab me by the hips. I would use my hands and arms to support myself above the bed. He would bring my pussy to his cock, then push and pull my body away and towards him. He seemed to enjoy the show and I found his strength to be impressive.

The only problem? He thought that this was going to go somewhere serious, like marriage, and I knew he was nothing more than a fuckbuddy. We had nothing in common, never left the bedroom, never went on date, never did anything together. Well, other than sex. He was too serious, I was too sarcastic.

He would tell me that he was going to marry me in this country and an African in Sudan. Spend 6 months here and 6 there. “One white and one black.”

I told him that no one in this country would ever agree to that. He didn’t understand this. I asked if his wife could have two husbands. Of course not.

Why don’t Muslims understand the meaning of the word fair?