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I was running breathlessly on a rainy dripping morning, my fantastic long coat saved by my humongous very stylish clear transparent but fashionable umbrella; the sound of my sexy high heels can be heard from a far distant. The rain suddenly began to pour mercilessly, i quickly dashed into a nearby starbuck coffee shop in the heart of downtown. As i entered the consumer noisey starbuck lounge area- the entire room stopped what they were doing and obligingly began to stare at my highness. I blushed of course, but that did not deter me from acknowledging the moment. I played with great full lips, to unwet the rain drop, as slowly made my way through the nearby standing line of starbuck patrons. "Excuse me, excuse me" i seductively whispered as i made my way through, avoiding all eye contact of course. (But still secretly eying' OR CONFIRMING if the hotties in the room were still starring)

As i was making way deeper into the room, i could hear a roaress, thunderous, igregiously familiar noise of a tribe of men. Tribe of Somali men, i mean!Upon processing it, in my mind that they were in fact somalis, i made a quick hault stop, turn back around and began finding my way out. As i was fully turning around, i physically bumped into a man with a big smile, big forehead, and an authentic look of somaliniimo that i found sexy, seductive yet daunting. The bumping was a strong impact!IT shook me to the core, my legs weak and my umbrella fell down on the ground. I found myself suddenly in his arms as he grinned big.

"Helloo Basra- where are you running to?"

Sir Lug asked with a sense mischief.

And why are you cheating on Qansa?

Nonstopping stories .. its sort of like the days of our lives

transparent umbrellas are so 1990's. anyway can I just say, and I TOTALLY don't mean to be rude, but what exactly is wrong with you ? Literally EVERY post of yours implies some sort of state of sexual arousal: poems about orgasms, "playing with" self described "great full lips", constantly breathing heavily, always seductive breathing, whispering or heaving, men bumping into you, always something being wet. I mean seriously, it's just not normal for a woman. I think you're suffering from persistent sexual arousal syndrome (PSAS).

Basra- wrote:I was running breathlessly on a rainy dripping morning, my fantastic long coat saved by my humongous very stylish clear transparent but fashionable umbrella; the sound of my sexy high heels can be heard from a far distant. The rain suddenly began to pour mercilessly, i quickly dashed into a nearby starbuck coffee shop in the heart of downtown. As i entered the consumer noisey starbuck lounge area- the entire room stopped what they were doing and obligingly began to stare at my highness. I blushed of course, but that did not deter me from acknowledging the moment. I played with great full lips, to unwet the rain drop, as slowly made my way through the nearby standing line of starbuck patrons. "Excuse me, excuse me" i seductively whispered as i made my way through, avoiding all eye contact of course. (But still secretly eying' OR CONFIRMING if the hotties in the room were still starring)

As i was making way deeper into the room, i could hear a roaress, thunderous, igregiously familiar noise of a tribe of men. Tribe of Somali men, i mean!Upon processing it, in my mind that they were in fact somalis, i made a quick hault stop, turn back around and began finding my way out. As i was fully turning around, i physically bumped into a man with a big smile, big forehead, and an authentic look of somaliniimo that i found sexy, seductive yet daunting. The bumping was a strong impact! I found myself suddenly in his arms as he grined big.

"Helloo Basra- where are you running to"

Sir Lug spoke with a sense mischief.

walaal u should write a book

nimco....awwwwe how....sweet will buy my book?

Basra Shaydaamad

Oxy what do u think of the author of this story? do u get the impression that she is a vixen?>

The bumping was a strong impact! I found myself suddenly on top of him and that is how poor Sir-luugoyo lost his legs not in the 77 war as he claimed..

You know what I think I would read a book by you Basra. It would remind me of my romantic fantasy days only this time with a Somali twist in place of Irish

LOLbaby u r hater, an adorable one nevertheless.


bb does that mean u will buy my novel?







"Sir Lug--its you, where did you come from?" I asked while composing my posture, and standing up right.

"Yes, Basra- its me.Why havent you returned my calls Basra? I am mad at you, you know, since our last picnic date, i didnt see u again.I called and call and called, to no avail. I am depressed Basra, what did i do?"


"Nothing! I am just terribly busy my dear. U know life & stuff like that.


"Yes, but you could at least return my calls. Was the red macaawiis that killed it off for u?" Sir lug asked, growing impatient like a child denied his candy or toy.



"Now, seriously Sir----cant u see people r starring?Pull yourself together, u r in NO shape to act 'teenagy inlove'! I have apologized, and lets conitinue this lovely chit chat via text message, i have to run.



"No! NO! I want you! I want you! Now! Right here!
Cried Sir lug, with his eyes wide open, full of passion and hornyness.


I quickly looked at the glaring eyes around the starbuck lounge area, i had to think fast. This big baby was beginning to bug me.I could see romantic tears falling down his marehaan full lovely cheeks, i knew i had to act in the name of preserving my chastity.


"Now Sir lug--ok ok---ok--- i am sorry. I want you too, but not here tafadhlaan, macaan. I am not Nabeela or ms nalia or even discreet kambuli.You know i am very elegant and not all inclined to this rude instrusiveness."


"Yes, i know!But i have tried every other way! I cant live without u! I will Not!


"Ok ok ok Mufasa, i heard u. Can we at least sit down there, u r making a scene.




HA HA HA HA HA Sir lug laugh thunderously! "Did u call me mufasa? HA HA HA u know Basra- thats why i love u.Aside from your bewitching, intoxicating beauty - u r a comedian !


At this point or response i was relieved. The big child seemed relaxed, my silly unintended joke diminished or impaired his passion. I moved to action.



"My dear, can i be excused? I need to go to girls Paddy room. I begged with a charming smile.


"oh for sure. But first give me your cell phone, i dont want u to call the cops." he responded with a zest of seriousness.


I quickly obliged and gave him my cell phone.


"Can i have yours"? i asked.



"For what?


"Well, for two things. One is as future hubby& wifey we need to share things 50/50. And two i cant call the cops from your own phone and report u! How dumb is that?"



"right ! right ! Good point! Here u r my future wifey!



I walk into the restroom- dial 1-800-M A R E H A AN.

A siyaad baare voice promters answers- "Welcome to Marehaan hotline toll free number. For Voltage press 1 for Qansa press 2 for Donation to Gedo city press 3 for Baare memorial library donation press 4 or press zero if u r a member of the marehaan in law family and want immediate assistance protection.


Press 0.



Then i dialed 911!

"the sound of my sexy high heels can be heard from a far distant"


you just turned me on with that

Mon Dieu! Avez-vous de le rendre public ?


Basra,



You are nasty. I knew it was the red Macawis that turned u off. I promise to change it.