tagGroup SexMuslim Male Bisexuality

Muslim Male Bisexuality


"So, Malik, you're a switch-hitter?" Amal Jama said softly, blinking as she took in the news just delivered to her by her boyfriend of almost two years, Malik Mensah. The tall, broad-shouldered young man nodded somberly, and swallowed hard. Malik's shoulders sagged, and he licked his lips, his posture ramrod straight, an ironic term, given his situation, as he carefully gauged his girlfriend's reaction.

For a young man considered by many to be a genuine giant due to his six-foot-four and two-hundred-and-fifty-pound frame, the light-skinned, emerald-eyed, bearded and Afro-sporting young biracial Muslim brother seemed to shrink before the woman standing in front of him. Malik Mensah seemed unsure of himself for the first time in ages, and hated being in such a state, especially in front of Amal...

The two of them were at a wooden bench in the middle of the quad, a few steps away from the Carleton University campus library, their favorite spot. It was a bright sunny day, unseasonably warm considering they were in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, facing a usually frosty early September. Across the quad, students walked and talked, some sat at benches and checked stuff on their phones, and a few even read. Peaceful scene, though Malik couldn't appreciate it because he was full of turmoil...

"Well, Amal, if you mean that I'm bisexual, then yes, I guess I am," Malik said softly, and he braced himself for what was to come. For the past three years, he'd been blessed with having this wonderful young woman in his life. From the first time Malik laid eyes on Amal, on his way to the makeshift mosque at the Carleton University gym, he knew that she was indeed special. The thought of losing her filled him with dread...

"Looking for the prayer hall? It's at the gym, I'm going there, if you want, I can show you," those were Amal Jama's first words to Malik. It was a particularly hot Friday in early September, and Malik, a newcomer to Ottawa by way of Accra, Ghana, was still getting his bearings around both the Canadian Capital and the Carleton University campus. Finding a guide in Amal was a Godsend, in more ways than one.

"Shukran, thank you sister," Malik said, nodding profusely, and a smiling Amal looked him up and down. When their eyes met, Malik's heart actually skipped a beat. The five-foot-ten, brown-eyed, chocolate-hued, delightfully curvy young Somali woman in the traditional dress and dark blue Hijab had a certain presence, and it was one he couldn't deny. Malik, who'd lived everywhere from Accra, Ghana, to London, England, and dated women of various races, found himself mesmerized by Amal.

Born in the City of Accra, Ghana, to a French Canadian mother, Elise Courville, and a Ghanaian Muslim father, Abdullah Mensah, Malik is the son of two worlds. After more than two decades of marriage, Malik's parents divorced, and he went to live with his father in London where the latter took a position with the Ghanaian High Commission. The bustling, diverse but largely impersonal town of London was a far cry from family-friendly and traditional, community-oriented Accra where Malik grew up, but he adjusted nicely to life in the European capital.

After completing his bachelor's degree in Commerce at the University of Cambridge in the United Kingdom, Malik returned to his mother's homeland of Canada to study for his MBA at Carleton University. After all, Malik did get Canadian citizenship through his mother, thanks to some timely paperwork on Elise's part. At first, Malik Mensah thought little of his new digs, and then he met the most amazing woman, and changed his mind. Indeed, with Amal as his guide, Malik fell in love with the Canadian capital...

"Malik, did you hear me?" Amal said, and her normally sharp yet melodious voice snapped Malik out of his reverie. Amal stood there, hands on her hips, and Malik swallowed hard, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. Prior to deciding to confess to Amal the truth about himself, Malik knew he had to brace himself for her reaction. Most women weren't cool with dating bisexual men, hence why most bi guys kept their bi status to themselves.

"Yes, my dear, I'm listening," Malik said softly, and Amal stepped forward, her pretty face unreadable. Damn, hope she isn't going to slap me or do anything drastic, Malik thought, a bit alarmed. Amal stopped, a mere couple of inches from Malik, and the young man held his breath. Whatever was to come, he would face it like a man. He'd kept secrets from the woman he loved, so she had every right to be mad...

Malik thought of his discovery of his bisexuality, during his first year at the University of Cambridge in the U.K. In those days, his roommate was Moustapha Diallo, a tall, dark and handsome young black man from the landlocked nation of Gambia in West Africa. From the first time Malik laid eyes on Moustapha, desires long-repressed came to the surface, and it was the beginning of a profound change in the young man's life...

"Your desires are absolutely nothing to be afraid of," Moustapha said to Malik as they hung out in Poppa Joe's, a well-known gay bar located in Berkshire, which the two of them visited during a long weekend. Malik looked at Moustapha, who looked really good in a crimson silk shirt, black leather pants and black timberland boots. Damn, Malik had to admit, the brother from Gambia looked good enough to eat...

"Oh I'm not afraid anymore," Malik said, and then, much to his surprise, Moustapha grinned and kissed him. Malik barely remembered leaving the dimly lit Poppa Joe's bar, and heading to Moustapha's rented flat, or tumbling into bed with him. What Malik remembered vividly was making love to Moustapha. The two of them undressed, and began to make out. Malik ran his hands all over Moustapha's muscular, athletic body as he got on top of him. Hot damn, the brother was hot...

Looking into each other's eyes, Moustapha and Malik smiled at one another as they began to make love...If Malik was honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he'd always been attracted to tall, dark-skinned men. Moustapha was just what the doctor ordered, and then some. Malik embraced Moustapha, and finally let go of his inhibitions. That night, he finally explored his manly desires...

"You taste wonderful," Moustapha said, and he took Malik's dick in his mouth and sucked him until Malik felt like he was about to burst. When Malik cried out in pleasure as he came, Moustapha grinned and sucked him dry. Afterwards, the handsome African Muslim stud climbed on top of Malik like he was a totem pole, and straddled him.

"You are smoking hot, sexy man," Malik said, and he felt his dick harden as Moustapha's ass pressed against it. Grinning, Moustapha reached for some condoms and a bottle of lotion that sat on the nearby nightstand. Grabbing Malik's hard dick, Moustapha rolled a condom on it, and then locked eyes with him. Malik put his hands on Moustapha's hips, and gave his cute ass a firm slap...

"Shut up and fuck me, Malik," Moustapha said, and Malik grinned, and bucked his hips, thrusting his dick deep into Moustapha's ass. Just like that, the two young men began making love. Moustapha screamed as Malik buried his dick deep inside of him, and he rode Malik hard. Moustapha's groans and screams really turned Malik on, and he fucked his lover with gusto, stabbing his ass with his dick and fucking him real good for the next couple of hours...

"I needed that, thank you," Malik said, smiling, and he pulled Moustapha close and kissed him. Moustapha returned his kiss, and pulled the covers over their sweaty, exhausted bodies. For the next couple of years, Malik and Moustapha lived together, and there was a part of Malik who wished it could always be so, even though a more logical part of him knew the world wasn't ready for bisexual Muslim men of African descent to live together and love one another.

Graduation day came, and Moustapha Diallo returned to Gambia to marry Mariam Jatta, a young woman he'd grown fond of during his summer trips to his homeland. As for Malik, he was heartbroken over the loss of Moustapha, the handsome young man with whom he'd shared his life for ages. Nevertheless, Malik knew he had to move on. That's why he left London behind, along with everything else meaningful to him. Malik never thought he'd love again...until he met Amal.

"Malik, you silly goose, I've known that you swung both ways from the moment we met, your eyes would go to girls butts and guys butts, don't think I haven't noticed," Amal said slyly, a mischievous gleam in her sparkling brown eyes. Upon hearing this, Malik's jaw hung open, gaping in shock, basically flapping in the breeze. If lighting had struck him right then and here, Malik wouldn't have been more shocked...

"Oh shit, I don't know what to say," Malik finally croaked, and Amal nodded, and then did something that was very out of character for her. Amal stood on her tippy toes, threw her arms around Malik and planted a kiss on his lips. Right in the middle of the quad, in front of everyone, this pious, Hijab-wearing Somali Muslim sister kissed the hell out of her man. When they came up for air, Malik took Amal's face in his hands and grinned.

"Malik, I wish you'd been honest with me from the start, I can handle it, some women can accept a brother for who he is without flipping out," Amal said, cocking an eyebrow, and Malik smiled and nodded. Taking both of Amal's hands in his, Malik brought them to his lips and kissed each of them in turn. Smiling, the two of them walked away from the quad, and headed down the path leading to the Southam and Loeb Buildings...

"You are a unique woman, I'm so lucky to have you in my life, I love you Amal," Malik said, squeezing Amal's hand gently. Amal looked at him and smiled, knowing that Malik meant every word. In truth, Amal had been pleasantly surprised when Malik finally fessed up about his other side. Like so many Muslim brothers, Malik underestimated Amal because she seemed like a pure, pious and quiet, dutifully repressed Muslim sister. If he only knew...

"Malik, I love you too, boo, but now I'm horny as hell, can you help a sister with that?" Amal said, and she gave Malik's ass a firm squeeze. The two of them smiled at each other, and came toward a circular, Roman-style grassy open space. While heading down the stairway, Malik spotted a slightly ajar door, and nodded at Amal, who smiled. Quietly, without a word, the two of them went inside...

"I think this is the janitor's spot," Malik said, and he clutched Amal's hand as they went down the dimly lit staircase. Not knowing what they might find inside, they were careful. Once they reached the bottom, they found a shed of sorts, and it contained a table, a few chairs, a ton of cleaning tools, and there was absolutely no one inside. No one but the two of them, that is...

"Got time for a quickie?" Amal said, licking her lips suggestively as she sat on the wooden table, hiking up her traditional skirt for emphasis. Malik smiled as he caught a glimpse of Amal's bright red panties. Malik smiled, instantly aroused, and he went to Amal, who waited for him with open arms...and open mouth. The two of them kissed, and began making love...

"Always got time for a quickie," Malik replied, right before he slipped his tongue into Amal's mouth. Gently he caressed Amal's breasts with one hand, and slipped the other one down her skirt. Parting Amal's panties to the side, Malik slid a finger into her pussy, and smiled when he noticed that his sweetie was already wet. Dammit, this was going to be fun...

"Malik, you talk too damn much," Amal said, rolling her eyes, and with that, she pulled her panties down to her ankles. Grinning, Malik nodded, and kissed her on the lips, and licked her nipples even as she spread her thick dark thighs invitingly. Malik brought his face to the space between Amal's legs, and inhaled her sharp womanly fragrance. A lot of women use vaginal deodorant down below, but his beloved Amal flaunted her own aroma...and he loved it.

"Ain't that the truth?" Malik paused to say, right before he buried his face between Amal's thighs. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her pussy's scent once more and then began eating her out. Amal licked her lips and then closed her eyes as Malik pleasured her. Ever since she'd met him, her world had changed. Prior to meeting Malik, Amal wanted to be a chaste and pious virgin, waiting for the right man and all...

Well, Malik proved to be an injection of life and passion in Amal's otherwise dreary existence. Before they met, Amal was involved in a lot of activities, from the Black Student Club to the Muslim Scholars Association, and did a lot of volunteer work with humanitarian causes, all to fill the void in her life. Amal had no man, no boyfriend, and seldom went on even halal dates. When Malik came around, the fine mixed brother from Ghana changed all that...

"Passion makes the world go around," those were Malik's words to Amal on their first date. He took her to the Silver City movie theater, and they watched The Perfect Guy, a rather edgy romantic thriller featuring an African-American cast, for a change. Passion indeed, Amal thought as Malik's tongue flicked over her clitoris, and she felt his fingers explore her pussy. Hot damn, the brother was setting her on fire...

"Oh fuck, I want you inside of me," Amal whispered, just when she felt she couldn't take it anymore. Malik's tongue was twisting this way and that inside her pussy, tormenting her in the most wonderful way. Malik stopped at once, and smiled, and then took Amal's hands and pressed them against his groin. Smiling, Amal unzipped Malik's pants, freeing his long and thick caramel stick...

"Best invitation I've ever had," Malik said, and he kissed Amal, and was surprised when she turned her face aside. Before Malik could say anything, Amal hopped off the table, and got on her knees. Grabbing his dick with both hands, Amal winked at Malik then flicked her tongue over his dick head. Malik smiled and held his breath. Was she about to do what he thought she was about to do?

"Come to mama, caramel stick," Amal paused to say, and then she took Malik's dick into her mouth. Malik looked down and gazed at Amal, and she looked so damn naughty and sexy. A curvy, naughty Hijabi who dresses traditionally and sucks dick behind closed doors. A happy sigh escaped Malik's lips as Amal sucked him with gusto, tugging on his ball sac as she fellated him.

"Okay you're ready now," Amal said, and Malik nodded. Taking the hand he offered her, Amal pulled herself to her feet, then sat up on the table. Leaning back, Amal spread her thighs, exposing an obvious target. Malik rubbed his hard dick against Amal's pussy lips, and looked into her eyes. Smiling slyly, Amal nodded, and Malik pressed on, thrusting his dick into her pussy.

"It's good to be home," Malik said, and Amal laughed and wrapped her arms around him, pressing him against her as he began fucking her. They hadn't made love in several days because Amal had gone to visit relatives in Minnesota during Eid and Malik was all alone in Ottawa. Well, right now, she was more than happy to make up for lost time...

"Welcome home," Amal hissed, and she dug her fingernails in Malik's back, urging him to fuck her harder. Malik got the hint and began to fuck her with gusto, slamming his dick into her pussy. For a good while he plowed into Amal, loving the feel of her hot, tight pussy around his dick. Ever since Amal went on the pill, their now bareback sessions became so much more fun. The two of them were going at it so passionately that they didn't hear the upstairs door creaking, nor did they hear the janitor coming down the stairs.

"Oh shit," the janitor said, and Malik and Amal turned around, and noticed him. Before either of them could say anything, the elderly black man in the blue uniform gasped, and bolted, running up the stairs in a surprisingly spry manner given his age. Malik and Amal laughed, and he thrust into her a couple more times and, in all the excitement, he came inside of her. Amal shrieked in pleasure, loving the torrent of masculine seed that flooded her pussy. Malik sighed, panting softly, and then pulled out of Amal.

"Bae, we got to get the hell out of there," Amal said, and she pulled her panties back up, and took a moment to readjust her dress. Malik tucked his now semi-hard dick back into his pants, and watched as Amal fixed a loose pin on her Hijab. Once more, his naughty lady love was the very image of Islamic feminine modesty and decency. Smiling, Malik kissed Amal on the lips, and then led her up the stairs.

"That was fun, though, we definitely should avoid that dude," Malik said, a few minutes later, as he and Amal sat inside the O-Train, which left Carleton Station and headed for South Keys, where Amal lived. Amal nodded, and kissed her man passionately. Getting caught by that janitor had been unfortunate, but in a way, Amal found it a bit of a turn-on. Excitement and all that jazz. Glancing around the nearly empty train cart, Amal made sure they were alone, then leaned close to Malik's ear.

"I'm going to ride your dick till I break it," Amal whispered, and Malik grinned and patted her big round ass affectionately. All is well that ends well, the young man thought. When he left his apartment this morning, having made up his mind to tell his girlfriend Amal about his bisexuality, Malik thought he might lose her, since being gay or bisexual was totally haram in their Islamic religion.

Most women, Muslim or otherwise, would flip out if their man revealed that he swung both ways. Even if he was completely loyal and monogamous. Male bisexuality is a turn-off for most females, unfortunately. Well, Amal was apparently okay with it. Malik swore to himself he'd stay faithful to her, since she was such an amazing woman. An amazing woman with a thick, mesmerizing ass he was going to smash. As soon as we get to her place, Malik thought, smiling lustfully.

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