Hijab Girls and Kinky Sex

To live according to one's ruling passions without fear or shame, what greater freedom could there be in all the world? My name is Halima Abdirizak and I'm a young Somali-Canadian woman living in the City of Montreal, Quebec. I was born in the environs of metropolitan Brandon, Manitoba, to Somali immigrant parents. My whole life I've felt like I had a foot in each world, western society and Islamic society, Somalia and Canada. My whole life I've been straddling both sides of the fence, and I thought myself unique, forever torn between modernity and tradition, until I met a kindred spirit in six-foot-three caramel-skinned stud Jabir Jama Saleh, a young man I met at McGill University.

I've always been different, and not just because I'm a six-foot-tall, chubby, busty and dark-skinned woman in a world that worships skinny blondes. Even among my fellow Somalis, my height, stature and mindset set me apart. In high school, I challenged my parents who insisted that I wear the hijab everywhere I went and they relented when I flat out refused to wear it. I'm not like other Somali girls who bow to the forces of tradition and family duty. I've got a mind of my own, and I firmly believe that only God can judge me, not those who claim to speak for Him. A lot of Somali girls who wear the hijab and long skirt will tell you that they dress the way they do because they choose to, and for some of them it's true but oftener than not, the parents had a lot to do with it. Trust me, I know my community.

I chose to study at McGill University in Montreal because it's one of the best schools in North America and also because it's pretty far from Brandon, Manitoba, where I grew up. My parents, Rashid and Aminata Abdirizak weren't pleased with my decision but at this point, there was nothing they could do. I wanted to see the world, and honestly, I wouldn't recommend Manitoba as a destination for people of non-Caucasian descent. Every day of my life back in Manitoba some white person would ask me where I came from, even though I was born in Canada and have never been to another country. Seriously, I've never even crossed the U.S. border!

In other provinces like Quebec and Ontario, you see a lot of minorities, not so much in Manitoba. The first time I set foot in Montreal I fell in love with that magnificent metropolis. How could I not? The architecture was magnificent, the town was lively and full of people. Just standing around the airport I saw so many Africans, Arabs and other ethnicities I could only guess at. At my old high school in Brandon, I was one of forty black students out of a student body of six hundred. Most of the black students came from places like Nigeria, Jamaica, Angola and Trinidad. I was one of only five Somalis there. You can understand why I just had to get the hell out of that place first chance I got, right?

My first day in Montreal I spent walking around town, taking in the sights and sounds. I heard so many languages spoken on the bus and the train. French and English are the most common languages in provincial Quebec according to the official brochures but they should really redo them sometime soon. The town is rapidly changing! I heard Haitian Creole, Arabic, Swahili, Somali and Amharic on the bus! I liked McGill University's diversity. Even though it's an elite school I saw a good amount of Africans, Arabs, Asians and Latinos. I visited Brandon University before I left my old hometown and honestly, aside from a few Asians and Arabs, everyone there was pretty much white. It was essentially a bigger version of my old high school, and I didn't want a repeat of that. I wanted to see more people who looked like me!

There was a pretty Somali gal named Fatima Suleiman working at the student center's front office. She knew what I was the moment she looked at me. I liked McGill University instantly. I found a new home and it's called Montreal! I finally felt free, free from my parents and also free to do my own thing. A lot of Somali girls are pressured into nursing and clerical work by their families. I don't think healthcare is the right field for me because I squirm at the sight of blood. Also, I hate hospitals. I can fix anything mechanical or electronic with my hands. I've fixed everything from my parents car to the PCs in my old high school library growing up. That's why I chose civil engineering. People still act surprised when I tell them that I'm a civil engineering student. Apparently it's not the most minority or female-friendly field out there. Hmmm. They used to say that about psychology in Freud's day and now it's a female-dominated field. Maybe the same will be said of civil engineering, firefighting and even police work in the world of tomorrow. Hey, a gal can dream, right?

So there I was, sitting in the McGill University library, reviewing the schematics of my presentation due next Friday when a tall, good-looking young man approached me. By the looks of him, I could tell two things, he was mixed, and at least of partial Somali descent. Like I said, I know my people. He introduced himself as Jabir Jama Saleh, criminal justice student. He also handed me a flyer, which I took after barely glancing at it. Jabir and I talked for a bit, he could tell that I was a new student and he congratulated me making it to McGill. He could tell by my accent that I came from another province. How about that? Jabir wished me a good day, then went on his merry way. I watched him go. The guy was tall, athletically built and masculine. And he spoke Somali. I was thanking my lucky stars when I finally took a look at the flyer he'd given me...and my jaw dropped. We welcome you to the first meeting of the Muslim GLBT Association and their Straight Allies, that's what the flyer said. What the fuck? The exclamation left my mouth before I could stop it, and folks around the library looked at me. I shrugged, and went back to work.

For the rest of the day, I thought about my encounter with Jabir Jama Saleh and the flyer he'd given me. I honestly didn't know there were Muslim GLBT people out there, though in the back of my mind I knew they existed. My aunt Fatoumatta lives in Winnipeg with a woman named Giselle, who's been her "roommate" since she divorced uncle Omar. No one in the family talks about it much, though. I don't know if it's curiosity or something more that brought me to the student center a few days later, and I walked into room 117, where, surprisingly, there were quite a few people. I gasped as I recognized Fatima Suleiman, the office chick, and a few students I'd seen walking around. Fatima smiled at me and gestured to the seat next to her. Hesitantly, I joined her. Welcome sister, Fatima said, giving me a hug.

I looked around and saw quite a few Arab and African students, and more than a few of them were traditionally dressed. The girls wore their hijabs and long skirts and the guys wore their Kufi hats and Thawbs, that's an ankle-length garment with long sleeves that's kind of similar to a priestly robe that Muslim men wear, by the way. Not all the attendees were minorities. I saw a tall blonde-haired white chick with tattoos sitting next to a chubby, dark-skinned Somali chick, the two of them holding hands. I also saw a tall young man who looked either Turkish or Greek, one of the two, sitting next to a tall Somali brother. Wow, interracial dating is hitting the Somali community in full swing, eh?

Standing behind a makeshift podium at the center of the room, wearing a McGill University Men's Rugby jacket and blue jeans was Jabir. He smiled at everyone, said Asalam Alaikum and called the meeting to order. I watched him, amazed. Was this the same young man who approached me in the university library a few days ago? The guy was so manly and handsome, and carried himself in such a strong, masculine manner. Could he really be...like that? Apparently so, I guess. Jabir spoke, and his loud, strong voice had everyone's attention. He thanked everyone for coming, and told us a bit about himself.

I was seventeen when I realized I was bisexual, Jabir said, his voice thick with emotion. I almost killed myself because everyone told me that being gay, lesbian or bisexual and Muslim was simply wrong. As Jabir went on, I looked around the room and noticed that he had everyone basically enraptured with his tale. He went on, telling us about his football team basically kicking him out when rumors about his sexuality emerged, getting dumped by his girlfriend Jodi a day before the Prom, and basically running away from home after his high school graduation because his parents, Yasmina and Ali Saleh wanted to send him to Somalia to "straighten him out".

While on the run, Jabir continued, I had sexual encounters with both women and men, and this confirmed my bisexuality identity. I also found out that bisexuals, especially bisexual men, weren't welcome in LGBT events. He paused for effect, and I noticed that around the room some people were nodding while others were rolling their eyes. I figured if I started a club for LGBT Muslims I wouldn't let anyone discriminate against bisexual people in it, Jabir finished. He stepped off the podium, and was greeted with a round of applause when he went back to his seat. Another person took the podium, a tall Somali chick dressed like a guy, with overalls and a baseball cap and everything. She introduced herself as Sagalina Hussein, then shared with us the story of her coming out as a lesbian to her father, the Imam of a mosque in Toronto. Hot damn, now this I had to hear!

Sagalina's tale was one of both woe and triumph, as the poets would say. Her father, Amman Hussein raised her alone after her mother died in childbirth. Raised alongside her older brothers Yousef and Anwar, she grew up to be quite the tomboy. She played on the rugby team in high school and got accepted at McGill University on an academic scholarship. Her father never asked her about her sexuality, until the day he came home to find her making out with her girlfriend Nadiyah, an Arab gal she met at work. The old man got pissed, and threw her out. Thus began Sagalina and Nadiyah's tale of trying to make it into the world the best way they could. When Sagalina finished her tale, her girlfriend Nadiyah, a tall and curvy, hijab-wearing Arab chick built like a supermodel joined her at the podium and kissed her on the lips...to overwhelming applause from everyone in the room. Apparently, they were studying together at McGill and sharing an apartment. Good for them, I guess.

More and more personal stories were shared by the founders of the club, which surprisingly seemed to be mostly straight-looking student-athletes from Somali, Arabian or Turkish backgrounds. The only "typical" queer person to speak at the assembly was slightly effeminate computer science student Mohammed Harahap, an exchange student from Jakarta State University in Indonesia. He told us he was living in Montreal with his French-Canadian boyfriend Luther Tremblay, a tall red-haired white guy who stood up among the assembly as if on cue, and that he had no plans for returning to Indonesia which he described as a prison for women, gays and religious minorities. Everyone clapped for Mohammed Harahap when he got off the podium and returned to his seat, hugging his boyfriend and waving at the rest of us.

The meeting concluded shortly after that, with Jabir once more taking the stage, reminding us what the group would be about, providing a safe place for LGBT Muslims at McGill University. With that, we were dismissed. Jabir and the other leaders stuck around, answering questions from the assembly. I had to force my way through to him, and he smiled when he recognized me. We exchanged a somewhat awkward hug, and he thanked me for coming. Looking at Jabir up close, silently marveling at how handsome and manly he looked, without the slightest bit of effeminacy or any trait or feature I'd come to subconsciously associate with queerness, I was somewhat taken aback. Jabir looked like he should be playing Australian Rules Rugby in Sydney or leading Manchester United. He didn't look gay or bisexual to me.

Of course, what did I know of such things? I'm just a Somali chick from Brandon, Manitoba, who finds herself in the big city for the first time! I thanked Jabir for inviting me, and also gave him my number. I definitely want to be friends, he told me with a smile. With that, Jabir gave me a brief hug, and walked away. Watching his spectacular ass which still showed in his loose-fitting blue jeans, my heart sank, for I realized right then and there that I had a crush on him. That night, Jabir called me and we ended up talking for the better part of two hours. The guy was funny, and really cool. We had a lot in common. Like me, he was born in Canada to immigrant parents. His father Abu was Yemeni and his mother Fadumo was Somali. Jabir considered himself a secular Muslim, rather than strictly traditional. He didn't believe in female circumcision, arranged marriages or honor killings. I believe in Allah and strongly disagree with the bullshit His radicalized believers do, Jabir said, and I agreed.

We talked for a bit after that, and I asked him if he was seeing anyone. Jabir seemed reluctant to talk about his personal life but after some gentle verbal prodding from me, he told me after he recently ended a relationship with a chick named Deirdre. Girls can't handle a guy who swings both ways, Jabir said wistfully, so I'm just focusing on the fellas. He told me about how Deirdre dropped him a couple of weeks ago, having grown increasingly insecure and antsy since he revealed his bisexuality to her. His promises of fidelity couldn't placate her, and they went their separate ways. That's a shame, I said, but all women aren't the same. Jabir laughed and said he wished he could believe that, then he wished me goodnight and hung up.

The next time I saw Jabir, he was walking around campus with a tall, athletic guy who looked Lebanese. Gino Abdullah say hello to my good friend Halima, Jabir said to his handsome friend by way of introduction when I ran into them at the Tim Horton's on campus. I exchanged handshakes with Gino, seizing up my competition. Good to meet you, Gino said. I made small talk with them for a bit then excused myself since I had to get to class. So, Jabir's got a new boyfriend, I see. Gino's not bad-looking but he's a Lebanese Christian who wears a cross around his neck. Jabir needs a Muslim sister who understands who and what he is and accepts him. He's been dealing with close-minded women here in Montreal. I simply need to show him that I'm not like the others. I want him and typically, what I want I get.

Over the next few weeks, Jabir and I became good pals, hanging out and talking on the phone all the time. I showed up at all his rugby games, and I was the first person to hug him after he helped McGill defeat McMaster University in the Canadian intra-university sport league's rugby championship. Sometimes Gino showed up but he was busy playing basketball for the University of Montreal. For now, everything seemed perfect between Gino and Jabir but I knew the two of them couldn't keep this up. Jabir is out and proud as a bisexual athlete and Gino is deep in the closet. I found out he had a Jamaican girlfriend named Yasmina Thompson who studied nursing at Concordia University. Damn, Gino is quite the stud and likes all things black, both male and female! I got the feeling Jabir didn't know about Yasmina. The question is, how do I let Jabir in on Gino's dirty little secret without being too obvious about it?

I had it all planned out. Jabir would find out Gino the closet case was cheating on him with some chick, and then he'd dump him and come rushing into my arms. My plan would work like a charm. Or so I hoped. That's why I began following Gino around, discretely of course. I just needed a picture of him kissing Rosa and then that pic would 'accidentally' find its way to Jabir and all would be set. So one day, I spotted Gino at the mall and followed him to his girlfriend Rosa's apartment in Laval. I'd seen Rosa before, a short, light-skinned Black chick with braids and a big ass. I had my flash-less camera ready. All I needed was that one incriminating shot. Since Yasmina and Gino were in the living room, I hid behind the bushes in the window. I waited there for a bit, waiting to see something interesting. That's when I got the surprise of a lifetime.

A familiar car pulled into the driveway, and guess who came out of it? Jabir! Oh my, this is going to be good. I rubbed my hands together impatiently and watched as Jabir walked to the front door, and buzzed. In the living room, Gino got up and went to answer the door. I watched, my heart thundering in my chest with excitement. Someone's about to get busted! Gino answered the door, and upon seeing Jabir, he did the last thing I would expect. He gave him a hug and a kiss. That's when my jaw hit the damn floor. The two men were joined by Yasmina, who stood on her tippy toes to plant a big kiss on Jabir's lips. The three of them went inside. I couldn't take my eyes off the three of them as they started making out and undressing right in the frigging living room!

Jabir stood stark naked, and stroked his condom-covered member, which was the longest and thickest I'd ever seen. Yasmina knelt before him and took his dick in her mouth while fingering her pussy. Gino watched the two of them going at it, stroking his dick, which was decidedly big. I couldn't believe my eyes. Jabir bent Yasmina over and began fucking her. The big-bottomed Jamaican chick moaned loudly as Jabir smacked her ass and slammed his rod into her cunt. Grabbing condoms and lubricant, Gino joined them, positioning himself behind Jabir and sliding his dick between Jabir's ass cheeks. And just like that, Gino began fucking Jabir while Jabir fucked Yasmina. I knew people did freaky things behind closed doors but I never thought people I knew got down and dirty like that! In spite of myself, I got turned on by what I saw. It took great effort for me to pry myself away from it all. I'd seen enough. Sticking around meant risking discovery, and I couldn't have that.

I went home that night, feeling both disappointed and excited. I honestly put a lot into that plan to split Gino and Jabir but that's obviously not going to work. Jabir is obviously more than okay with Gino having a girlfriend since she's the kind of freaky chick who'll fuck both of them. Still, Yasmina is Gino's girlfriend, not Jabir's. Maybe I still got a chance with him, you know? I know Jabir likes dick, and Arab dick at that. Since he was so eager to slam Yasmina's booty, I can surmise that he still likes black pussy. I just got to entice him with mine, and make it clear to him that I'm not like the other women he's dealt with before. So I went to my bathroom and took a few pictures with my camera phone.

The first one showed me wearing a bra and panties, and holding a handwritten sign that says "bisexual guys are hot". The second one was of me bending over, showing my thick black ass. Got to use what my mama gave me, as they say. I texted those two pictures to Jabir at 9 : 00 PM that night. At 9 : 02 P.M. I got a reply from him. Hmmm. That was quick. Halima, WTF? That was Jabir's reply. At 9 : 07 P.M. I asked him if he liked what I showed him. No reply. The seconds ticked by, then turned into minutes. I began to wonder if I'd pushed the boundaries of my friendship with Jabir too far. Had I lost him? At 9 : 17 P.M. he sent me a picture of him standing naked in front of his bathroom mirror, stroking his big ole cock. Mama likes, I texted him. He sent me a smiley face, then told me he had no idea I was this freaky. Wanna come over? I asked him. It took him less than ten seconds to reply. Give me ten minutes, he said.

Thirteen minutes later, Jabir Jama Saleh stood at my door, wearing a red T-shirt and blue sweatpants. Hey there, he said with a grin. I greeted him with a deep kiss, which he returned. Hesitantly he hugged me, then asked me if I was sure about this. I patted his groin, felt his dick hardening and smiled. Taking his hand, I led him to the bedroom. I haven't gotten laid since the summer after my high school graduation, I told Jabir. I took off my bathrobe, and sat naked on the bed, my legs spread, bushy cunt super exposed. Jabir smiled at me, and pulled the condoms out of his pocket. I grinned at him and gestured for him to come to me.