Hijabi Girl's Sex Life

My name is Alimah Amal Hassan. I was born and raised in the City of Al-Karameh in the Kingdom of Jordan. My family moved to the region of Ontario, Canada, about ten years ago. Today, I turn twenty two. I'm a third-year student at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa. I have a lot to be thankful for today. Seriously. I live in the greatest country in the world, bar none. Canada is a wonderful place! In about a year, I'll have my Bachelor's degree in Criminology from Carleton University, then I'll go to Law School. Most Muslims don't celebrate their birthdays but I don't follow that bullshit. Birthdays are a wonderful thing in my eyes. This is my special day and I'm going to have a blast.

Somehow, I ended up in bed with Mustafa Karim, this big and tall Black guy from the Republic of Ethiopia. His father Abdul Karim is Ethiopian and his mother Malika Mohammed is Somalian. She's one of those rare Somali Muslim women who converted to Christianity and married a Christian male. Mustafa was born in Ethiopia but raised in the City of Calgary, in the Alberta region of our beloved Canada. He's a civil engineering student at the University of Ottawa. He's also bisexual. We've been friends for a while, me and him. I know he's bisexual and even though I never told him this, I've always fancied him. A lot of people make assumptions about him when they see him because he looks more Somali than Ethiopian. He's not Muslim, he's a practicing Christian. Also, he speaks English, French, Spanish, Arabic, Farsi and the guttural Somali language. The guy is super cute, smart and charming. Of course, he can't be straight.

I met Mustafa two years ago when he took a summer course at Carleton University. A lot of Ottawa University students take courses at Carleton and I don't like them because they're full of themselves. I'm a Raven gal through and true. The Ravens are Carleton University sports teams mascot, just in case you're not Canadian and thus don't know such things. I have always found Black men really hot, and Mustafa was definitely the cream of the crop. Six feet four inches tall, broad-shouldered and well-built, with light brown skin and curly Black hair. People say he looks like that guy from TV series The Famous Jett Jackson, only taller and more muscled. I like tall men. I'm a tall gal myself since I stand five feet eleven inches while barefoot. I love tall men but short chicks steal all the tall guys. It's almost as if being a tall woman makes you unappealing in the eyes of tall men. That's a shame because I think tall men and tall women look good together.

Mustafa and I became friends, even though he was dating this White guy named Jeff Wilkinson at the time. I don't like White guys. I find them boring as hell and pretentious. They're always hitting on me. I like two types of men, really dark-skinned guys from Pakistan and African men. There are lots of both in the City of Ottawa but they're usually not interested in a young Arab woman like me. I almost stopped wearing the hijab because I quickly discovered it's a turn-off for both Muslim men and non-Muslim men. Seriously. Take Carleton University for example. All the Arab guys and the Somali guys are dating White women. Arab women and Somali women are ignored by the men of their respective communities. Apparently, Muslim guys find Muslim women too boring. They like to play around with White women, and they only notice us Muslim women when they're ready to get married or when they're trying to impress their conservative parents.

Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yes. I was telling you about my fascination with Mustafa and my big disappointment in Muslim men of all races at Carleton University. They chase blonde-haired and blue-eyed Western sluts like their lives depend on it. All the Muslim guys at school show zero interest in me. Christian guys don't bother flirting with Muslim chicks because they assume we're all dull, boring and prudish. Also, they think Muslim guys are going to turn psychotic if they see us together. Well, that last part is true. Muslim guys are the biggest hypocrites on the planet. They love having fun with women of all races, and they also drink and party hard. However, when they see a Muslim woman doing the same thing, they turn downright murderous. We're supposed to just say at home waiting to get married while they have all the fun. What the fuck? Not in this century, and definitely not in North America! Still, those are my living conditions. What's a lonely, sexless Muslim gal to do? Muslim men don't want to give me some play, and they scare the Christian guys away. The solution? Hook up with a Christian guy who looks Muslim to fool all the bigoted and narrow-minded Muslim guys at school. Sounds like a great plan to me!

The man I selected to be my paramour is Mustafa Karim, the Ethiopian Stud. When he walks through campus, all the girls are practically swooning. He's just really good-looking. I wanted Mustafa for myself. And that's why I got rid of his closeted gay lover Jeff. You see, Jeff comes from a prominent British-Canadian family in the City of Mississauga, Ontario, and his relatives are conservative as fuck. He and Mustafa had to keep their relationship under wraps. I wanted Mustafa to myself so I sent Jeff an anonymous letter. I told him to leave Mustafa, or I'd expose his gayness to his parents. Like a typical White bozo, Jeff had no courage whatsoever. He dumped Mustafa, and returned to his old digs at the University of Toronto campus in his hometown of Mississauga. Mustafa was heartbroken over losing his boyfriend, and like a good female friend, I was there to comfort him. Since it was my birthday, I invited him to come chill with me and my girls Aisha, Aamina and Simane, along with our friend Abdirahman. The six of us went to Maverick Night Club in downtown Ottawa, and had a great time.

Like a lot of guys of Somali ancestry, Mustafa really can't handle his liquor. I volunteered to get him back to his Vanier apartment, and how we ended up in bed, I'll never know. The last thing I remembered was taking off his pants. Hey, he told me he prefers sleeping in his shorts. I totally didn't remember feeling tempted when I saw the bulge in his boxers. And I definitely didn't hop on the bed and start kissing him. Alright, who am I kidding? I wanted him, and judging by the way his body reacted, he wanted me. When I took off his boxers and grabbed his nine-inch, uncircumcised Ethiopian cock, he didn't protest. Gently I began sucking his cock and licking his balls. Yep, that's me. The nice Jordanian gal with the hijab on, sucking my drunk friend's big Black dick. Us Arab girls are such sluts it's not even funny.

I sucked Mustafa until he got rock hard, then I climbed on top of him. He just lay there and let me do all the work, but his dick was hard as steel. That's something at least. I took his cock and put it inside of me. And just like that, I began rocking back and forth on top of him. I loved the feel of Mustafa's big cock deep inside of me. He fucked me good, thrusting his member into my gentle folds. He didn't just lie there. Oh, no. There was a lot of hip movement, especially thrusting upward. I screamed passionately as Mustafa and I fucked. By Allah, if I knew Ethiopian men fucked this good, I would have tried one a long time ago! I rode Mustafa until I felt a tremor deep within, and came. Yep, I came for the first time in ages. My pussy squirted hot girly cum all over the place. Too bad Mustafa was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness so he might have missed it. Whatever. I got what I wanted, and more.

When Mustafa woke up, he didn't remember a thing. Suits me just fine. I like him, but I don't believe in riding the same cock too many times in a row. There are lots of good-looking, well-endowed Black men in the City of Ottawa. I will meet some for some discrete fun. Hey, Muslim guys are having their fun and the world thinks it's okay but a hijabi like myself is supposed to be all repressed and docile? Fuck no! It's my life, and I've decided to improve my sex life. I need some good Black men. To fuck me properly, far away from the prying eyes of friends, relatives and acquaintances. And I know just where to find them. Toronto here I come!