Rebellion

Rebellion

By Yives

Fatima was eighteen today. Her peers would have celebrated this day by going out to dinner with their family or drinking and partying with their friends. However, Fatima would spend the day studying for her calculus exam and helping her mom around the house. No one in their family would even acknowledge the day since they were devout Muslims who didn't recognize such occasions.

Fatima opened another tab on her laptop and opened youtube. The first video to show up in her recommendations was a makeup tutorial for dark skinned Black women. Although she was never allowed to wear makeup Fatima still liked to watch videos on makeup hauls and tutorials. Fatima liked to think that she would one day be able to use all of the knowledge she acquired over the years. There was a knock on her bedroom door and Fatima quickly exited out of the youtube screen.

Abdul, her youngest sibling, poked his dark, round face into her bedroom. "Fatima! Mama wants you to help her with lunch!" After Abdul made this announcement he ran down the carpeted hallway giggling. Fatima sighed and got up from her desk, stretching. She grabbed her slip-on hijab and put it on in case her father decided to bring a guest home after he left the mosque. As the local imam he was the unofficial leader of the Somali community. And as the leader he often entertained guests on short notice.

Fatima smelled the smoke as soon as she entered the hallway. Her mother was a lovely woman but she wasn't the best cook. She often relied on Fatima to do the family's cooking.

"Fatima!"

Fatima entered the kitchen. Her mother was swearing under her breath and removing the batteries from the alarm. Fatima grabbed the oven mitts, went over to the stove, opened the oven door, and then removed the burnt biscuits. She tossed the entire pan into the sink before turning off the oven. Without skipping a beat she went over to the fridge and grabbed bread, sliced cheese, butter, and the tuna salad she premade the day before. Fatima took out the electric griddle and began assembling the tuna sandwiches to grill. Her mother, seeing what Fatima was up to, went to the pantry and grabbed chips and juice boxes. Her younger sister, Omirah, was setting the tables. Eight plastic cups and plates meant for their mother and all seven of the children. The sounds of children playing and laughing drifted in from the living room.

"Jazakallah Khair, Fatima." her mother said before planting a kiss on her cheek.

After fatima finished grilling the tuna sandwiches she took a fresh bottle of dill pickles from the pantry. She then called her siblings in to eat at the kitchen table. Amid the chaos of her siblings scrambling to get to their plates Fatima heard the roar of a truck belonging to Nate Weinstein. Fatima turned to the picture window and saw Nate exiting his vehicle. Fatima breath caught in her throat. Nate was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and nike's. Showing off all his chiseled glory. Standing 6'2 with a tan and jet black hair. Nate locked eyes with her and Fatima dissociated from her body. They stared at each other until Nate's mother came out of the house and called him in. He lifted his chin towards Fatima before turning away. Fatima stood there until her mother yelled at her for letting her food go cold.

After dinner that night Fatima stood in her darkened bedroom and watched the window of Nate's bedroom. The curtain was drawn but the lights were on. Fatima imagined Nate was on his bed, naked and reading a book like some sexy intellectual. She wondered if he would remember locking eyes with her and if he would look at her like that again at school tomorrow.

In the morning Fatima chose a red, satin abaya and a black, slip-on hijab. She put them on before applying clear lip gloss and black eyeliner. The only makeup her father permitted. When she went downstairs she heard her father and mother in the kitchen talking.

"Assalamu alaikum." Fatima said in greeting.

"Asalam Alikum." her parents said in unison.

Fatima went over to the fridge and grabbed turkey bacon and eggs to make breakfast. Her parents continued talking and from what Fatima overheard her parents were discussing a Somali girl in their community that had fallen pregnant from a secret boyfriend. Her father complained about the lack of modesty among Muslim youth while her mother claimed the last days were near. Her parents had met nineteen years ago shortly after her father moved from Somalia. Her mother was a new convert and had gone to the mosque for classes where she met Fatima's father. Her mother was African American but the different cultures didn't stop her parents from falling in love and seven children later here they all were.

After the family ate breakfast Fatima loaded up the four eldest children into her minivan and dropped them off at the middle school before driving herself to the local high school. Her parents had finally let her buy a car over the summer after Fatima convinced them she could use the car for college. She used the money her father's mother had left for Fatima in her will. Fatima was glad to have it. The short time she managed to be in the car herself were some of the only times Fatima had true privacy. She listened to music and youtube videos on her cellphone, both forbidden in her home. She talked to her friends on the phone without worrying about someone overhearing and she even listened to celebrity gossip.

Fatima arrived at school and since she was running behind she had to take a spot near the back of the parking lot meaning that she would have to walk past the cool kids to get to the building. As one of the few Muslim kids at their affluent school she was always self conscious. She parked and took a few minutes to do a calming breathing exercise before exiting her minivan. Fatima lowered her head and began making her way through the crowd. Fatima liked to walk as fast as she could in crowds. Figuring that the faster she walked the faster she could get to her destination and away from the crowds. She heard laughter, shouts, and music as her peers relished the time they had before class was in session. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw she was almost to the metal detectors. She exhaled right before colliding with a wall.

Except it wasn't a wall but a strong, muscular chest. A chest that smelled of laundered cotton and sandalwood. Fatima looked up and froze. It was Nate. Nate had one arm on each of Fatima's forearms and Fatima was grateful because she didn't know if she could stand on her own.

"You okay?" Nate had an amused look on his handsome face.

It took Fatima a minute to realize he was talking to her, actually talking to her!

"Uh-yes. Sorry." Fatima muttered before detaching herself and scampering off.

As she was leaving she saw Nate's blonde, super model-esque girlfriend sauntering over.

"My god she was salivating over you." She said loud enough for Fatima to overhear.

Embarrassed beyond belief Fatima quickly made her way to her first class. She managed to go almost the entire school day without thinking of the awful incident in the morning. At lunch time she sat with the only friends she had. Two other invisible nobodies. They were good friends though and Fatima was grateful to have them. They were all discussing their upcoming history test when her friend Carrissa began poking Fatima in the ribs. Fatima looked up and saw Nate walking over, coming right for her. Before she knew it Nate was standing over her smiling.

"Hey." He said smiling.

"Hey", Fatima couldn't believe she was able to speak.

"I need to ask you a favor," Nate smiled again, "call me." He handed Fatima a slip of paper before leaving.

Carissa whispered, "What was that all about?"

As she drove away from the high school Fatima kept replaying the scene from lunch in her head. She was actually living out one of her fantasies. She felt like she would pass out. To make things even better a sexy dress had arrived in her secret p.o box. Fatima planned to pick it up before getting her siblings. She wanted to wear the dress as she called Nate that night.

After dinner and giving baths to her younger siblings Fatima unwrapped the silver bodycon dress she ordered. It fit nicely over her triple-D tits. She combed her jet black, curly hair and applied clear lip gloss. She took out her flip phone and dialed Nate's number. After a few rings he answered.

"Hello." came a gruff voice.

"Nate. It's Fatima."

"Hey." he said

"Hey.", she replied.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't call. Glad you did."

Fatima didn't know what to say to that so she said nothing.

"So,I need a tutor. For my art class. I heard you were one of the best painters in the school."

"I don't know about the best." Fatima said coyly. "But I guess I can help you."

"Good," he said. "Come over to my house after school tomorrow."

"Okay." Fatima agreed.

"Goodnight, Fatima." he said before hanging up.

Fatima let the cell phone drop to the carpet as she put her hand between her legs.

Fatima was usually tasked with helping her mom after school, however, her parents let her forego this responsibility to tutor for money. Fatima sat at the slab of redwood oak that stood for Nate's kitchen table. Her parents were well off but Nate's parents were wealthy. There were rare paintings on the walls and furniture from various European countries throughout the home. Nate was upstairs showering after his tennis practice and just thinking about Nate in the shower was overloading Fatima's brain.

Nate's mother walked in from the butler's pantry with a tray of appetizers and lemonade for Fatima. She was a woman in her forties that had undergone plastic surgery. However, the plastic surgery enhanced her beauty without making her look freakish. There was an Israeli flag pinned to her blouse and it caught Fatima's eye. Nate's mom noticed and smiled awkwardly.

"I told Nate to take a shower after you left but he wouldn't listen." Nate's mom smiled and rolled her eyes.

"I don't mind waiting." Fatima said as she picked up a grape from the tray. They made chit chat as Nate showered. Ten minutes later he walked into the kitchen dressed in gray sweats with droplets of water clinging to his semi-curly locks.

Nate's mom left and Nate took her seat next to Fatima. Since she was nervous and didn't know what to say Fatima just began unloading the art supplies she brought over. Nate watched her silently which made her even more nervous. Once she finished Nate put his hand over hers.Fatima felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. Her ears began ringing and her vision blurred. Nate's blue eyes locked on hers and she had never before realized how much like a polar ice cap they were.

"There's a tree I want you to help me paint but you can only see it in my bedroom. Come up with me."

Fatima couldn't speak so she just nodded and let Nate take her hand. They stood in his bedroom and stared at an oak tree in Nate's backyard slowly turning orange from the autumn. Fatima could see her own bedroom window and remembered all of the times she looked at that window towards Nate's bedroom.

"So,' Nate said, "I was thinking you could paint this for me so I can pass my art class. I'll pay you a few hundred."

"Okay." Was all Fatima could say. She was still in awe to be standing in Nate's bedroom with Nate.

"But first," Nathan continued, "I want to do this."

He stepped in front of Fatima, bent down, and kissed her.

Fatima stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. Time stood still. Nate stuck his tongue in her mouth and Fatima returned his kiss and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. Nate pulled her in closer and grabbed the back of Fatima's thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist. Fatima ground against Nate desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Nate obliged by pulling down his pants and ripping Fatima's panties off. She ground her clit against his cock and they gyrated in unison. Both breathing deeply. Filling the room with grunts and sighs. Nate sped up and soon he came on Fatima's belly. Nate bit down on Fatima's neck and screamed. Fatima moaned and came herself. As her pussy was recovering from the recent waves of pleasure Nate carried Fatima over to his soft bed and put her on her back. He positioned himself between her legs and ran his hot, thick tongue down her clit. Fatima came again. Wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over her as Nate continued. Nated grunted like a pig and Fatmia sighed like she was in a dream.

Suddenly Nate stood up and went to his nightstand. Fatima tried to grab him but he was too busy rummaging in his nightstand. He pulled out a condom and a bottle of clear liquid. He turned to her and Fatima saw an erect, 8 inch pink cock facing her. Nate quickly put on the condom and smeared some of the clear, viscous liquid on his penis. He came towards Fatima and laid down on top of her. He stuck his tongue in her mouth again and Fatima was lost. Fatima felt his mushroom cap pushing her hole open. It felt like he was sticking a baseball bat inside of her and fatima gasped. Nate stopped then started again, going slow. All the while his lips were locked with her's. Even though it was painful, Nate kept making progress. Pushing in and pulling out, in and out. Fatima held on to his broad, tanned shoulders for dear life and Nate whispered encouragement to her. Nate kept humping and Fatima's hands roamed over his sweat glistened muscles. Nathan grabbed her neck and squeezed. Fatima felt her hole tighten around him and tears sting the corner of her eyes. Her pussy pulsed as if hooked to a car battery and Fatima came again. Clenching her stomach so hard it hurt. Nate came and screamed into Fatima's ear. There was no way his mom hadn't heard. Nate collapsed on top of her, panting.

Fatima and Nate lay in a puddle of cooling sweat as they painted. Eventually Nate stood up on his elbows while still inside her and said "It's been a while since I popped someone's cherry."

Fatima didn't know what he meant by that so she just smiled. Nate smiled back before looking downwards. Fatima felt his cock twitch inside of her and Nate raised an eyebrow.

After two more hours of fucking Nate finally released her. Fatima went downstairs, limping a little. She went to the kitchen and found that the art supplies she brought over were neatly packed away in her art duffel bag. Next to it was a tupperware container of finger food. Fatima took both and walked towards the back door. She saw her reflection in the mirror.

Her plump lips were red and sore from Nate's manipulations. Some of her black coils spilled out from her slip on hijab and the left shoulder of her brown abaya was torn. She looked like a mess. Fatima smiled.

Please go easy on me. I haven't written in months. Also, this is only part one. Part 2 is soon to come.