The name is Stella Clayton-Qasim and I'm a thirty three-year-old Black woman living in the City of Detroit, Michigan. I stand five feet eleven inches tall, delightfully curvy, big-breasted, wide-hipped and big-bottomed. I used to play for the Women's Rugby Club at my old university. These days, I work as a clerk/legal secretary for a law firm in downtown Detroit. Sometimes I feel like this job is beneath me but it pays twenty dollars an hour for eight-hour days, five days a week, so I'm not complaining. I am an educated sister, holding a bachelor's degree in sociology from Wayne State University and a Master's degree in Public Management from the University of Michigan.
If you're wondering what someone like me is doing working for a law firm, you're probably right. I used to work for the Department of Social Services as an account manager but with the economic downturn the City of Detroit took, I had to find another job. The only place that would hire me was the law offices of Jacobson, Johnson and Kensington. There are six Black lawyers, three Asians, two Hispanics, and seven White lawyers at the law firm where I work. The founder and senior partner, Mr. Tyrone Jacobson is half Black and half White. He's an alright dude who treats his employees fairly. The firm is a fairly diverse workplace and everyone gets along with everyone. I like what I do. It's at home that things are a bit tense.
Last month my husband, Detroit Metropolitan Police Sergeant and Wayne State University alumnus Abdullah Qasim revealed to me that he was bisexual. I was quite surprised, to tell you the truth. Abdullah is a six-foot-tall, well-built and masculine Black man from the City of Mogadishu, Somalia. Born into a conservative Somali Muslim family, he is quite rigid in his views about women, gender issues and religion. That's Islam for you. Beautiful religion but the men in charge of it are quite inflexible. That's the only thing wrong with it as far as I can see.
When we first met, Abdullah and I clashed over a lot of things. My parents, Estelle and Paul Clayton raised me in the Catholic faith. I didn't know jack about Islam and its myriad rules until I met Abdullah Qasim on the Wayne State University campus. Something about this tall, well-built and absolutely masculine, dark-skinned brother took my breath away. We came from different worlds but somehow fell in love when we met at Wayne State University in September 2003. Ten years later, we're married and the proud parents of two sons, Omar and Wahid, and a daughter, little Khadija. I converted to Islam because my husband expected it of me.
We're a family of proud African-American Muslims. I was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan, and my husband is Somali-American but I couldn't care less where he's from. I love this man to death. The revelation of his bisexuality has complicated things for us, to say the least. Abdullah and I have discussed his emerging bisexuality at great length. He still makes love to me regularly and our sex life is great. I kind of worried he might turn out to be gay but the dude is a well-endowed brother who pounds my pussy mercilessly three times a week. He handles his husbandly duties well and I am damn proud of that. That's why I decided to open my mind about this bisexuality thing. If only Abdullah had stopped there...
Abdullah wanted to explore his emerging bisexuality and asked for my blessing. I was a bit hesitant about it, as you can imagine. Bisexual Black men are something that lots of us Black women are cautious about. I don't want the man I love to catch AIDS. I also don't want him to discover that he loves dick more than pussy and run off with some other dude. I've tried some kinky stuff in the bedroom just to please him. Prior to Abdullah revealing that he swung both ways, I never let that man anywhere near my asshole. I considered anal sex something dirty and simply wrong. I think it's forbidden by all the Abrahamic faiths, the Torah, the Bible and the Quran. Yet my husband, who sometimes speaks at the local mosque, asked me to give up the booty on more than one occasion and I had to accommodate him. The last thing I wanted was for him to go outside our bedroom to satisfy his urges.