Muslim Lesbians of Boston

Sometimes goodbye's the only way, Beyza Ataturk told herself as she deleted her ex-girlfriend Manal Ismail from her Facebook. Tearfully the young woman got up and walked out of the computer terminal on the topmost floor of the Boston Public Library on Copley. Sighing deeply, she walked out of the library and walked a few blocks to Commonwealth Avenue, and walked into Bay State College, her school.

Born in the City of Malatya, Turkey, and raised in the City of Racine, Michigan, Beyza was a newcomer to the City of Boston, Massachusetts. Her parents, Erol and Sevgi Ataturk were stunned when their only daughter chose a little-known school in downtown Boston over the University of Michigan, their alma mater.

"I've got to explore life outside of Michigan, I've never left this damn place since we moved here from Turkey," Beyza pleaded, and after a while, her parents relented. They had an emotional goodbye at the Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport, and then Beyza was off on her grand adventure.

The City of Boston and its splendors beckoned, and Beyza simply couldn't wait. For ages the only major city Beyza's parents had ever taken her to was Detroit, and while Michigan's largest city was fun in its own way, it wasn't as classy as Boston. Besides, Beyza was no fan of either the Detroit Lions or the NHL's very own Redwings. Nope, this young Turkish-American gal was a Bruins woman through and true, and she'd had a crush on New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady for ages.

Standing five-foot-eleven, sturdy and strong, with long black hair, bronze skin and light brown eyes, Beyza Ataturk had always been the athletic type. While at Washington Park High School, Beyza tried out for the football team, and actually got in. For three seasons Beyza suited up as a lineswoman, forever altering the perception that females couldn't play football, or that Muslim girls weren't capable of certain things.

"A daughter who is more like a son, that's what Allah blessed us with," Beyza's father Erol said, teary-eyed and laughing while talking to the local media after his daughter's stunning performance at the high school football championship. The old Turk was proud of his daughter, and knew better than to oppose her ambitions and dreams. That's why he supported Beyza's decision to study in Boston.

On her first day at Bay State College, Beyza met the young woman destined to change her life forever. Manal Ismail, a Somali-born newcomer to Boston by way of Saint Paul, Minnesota. Beyza was stunned to see a fellow Muslim roaming around this quaint little campus located at the heart of metropolitan Boston, to say the least.

"Merhaba, I thought I'd be the only Muslim student here," Beyza said, and Manal smiled and shrugged. The tall, brown-skinned and conservatively attired, Hijab-wearing Somali-American chick was gorgeous. Nodding gently, Manal told Beyza that she was pleased to meet her.

"As salam alaikum, sister Beyza, I'm happy to meet you," Manal said, and the two young women shook hands. Beyza looked into Manal's deep, golden brown eyes and her heart actually skipped a beat. Beyza couldn't remember the last time a woman's mere presence affected her the way Manal did, or why she felt equal part fear and excitement when looking into Manal's eyes.

"Walaikum As Salam, the feeling is definitely mutual," Beyza replied, and then gave Manal a heartfelt hug. The two young women smiled at each other, and that day, they struck up a friendship. They were both Muslims, and living far from home and family for the first time in their young lives. In spite of their obvious differences, Beyza and Manal had a lot in common.

"This town is so gay," Manal said to Beyza as they walked around the Copley Mall. Manal looked at a lesbian couple, a portly red-haired, masculine white woman holding hands with a tall, slim younger Asian woman. Beyza looked at the lesbian couple, which walked out of Talbot's, and shook her head.

"It's their lives, you know? I don't discriminate," Beyza said with a shrug, and Manal looked at her and grinned. For a moment, Beyza froze, mesmerized by Manal's hypnotic eyes like a deer caught in headlights. Manal had that effect on her, and Beyza found it both sexy and unsettling...

"Of course not, Beyza, you like girls too," Manal said coyly, looking Beyza up and down, and Beyza shifted uncomfortably. The two young women stood inches apart in the crowded mall, and Beyza took a deep breath, fidgeted slightly and finally mustered the courage to answer Manal's missive.

"So what if I do?" Beyza said, crossing her arms and looking at Manal defiantly. The young Somali-American gal smiled, and shrugged, then stepped closer to Beyza. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Manal smiled, and then, gently, she laid her hand on Beyza's face. Beyza blinked in surprise, and at once whatever bravado she might have felt vanished.

"You're cute when you're angry," Manal said, and then she kissed Beyza, right on the lips. It was a ten-second peck, nothing like what is often seen on today's movies and television shows, that's for sure, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Beyza's first time getting kissed by another female, as it happens.

"Why did you kiss me? How did you know I'm gay?" Beyza blurted out, and Manal smiled, and linked her arm with hers, and led her away. Manal led Beyza to the nearby food court, and once there, the two young women sat opposite each other. Beyza was burning with questions, and Manal delighted in answering them...slowly.

"It takes one to know one, my pretty," Manal said coyly, and Beyza smiled hesitantly, marveling at the confidence of the tall, Hijab-wearing and outwardly conservative yet forthrightly queer young Somali-American Muslim who sat opposite her. Beyza had never met someone like Manal, that's for damn sure.

"We should hang out sometime, I'd love to discuss this some more," Beyza said hesitantly, and Manal grinned like the Cheshire cat. This was all too easy. Nodding reassuringly at Beyza, Manal laid her hand on hers, and Beyza smiled. And just like that, Beyza and Manal embarked on a life-changing journey.

Beyza Ataturk, the sheltered small-town gal from Michigan by way of Turkey had never met anyone like Manal. Outwardly conservative, Manal was wilder and more fearless than anyone Beyza had ever met. Shoot, Manal was the one who took Beyza to her first queer gathering, the collegiate coming out support group at the Boston Living Center. Manal had been going there for months, and knew all the members.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met," Beyza said to Manal one night, as they sat in Manal's living room. Clad in a red tank top and sweatpants, her Hijab gone for a change, her long black hair cascading off her shoulders, Manal looked absolutely gorgeous. As Manal shrugged and sipped her tea, Beyza gazed at her and felt a stir deep within.

"You know how to make a chick blush, Miss Turkey," Manal replied, and Beyza grinned and shrugged. Suddenly filled with inspiration, Beyza grabbed Manal and looked into her eyes. Manal laughed and pretended to struggle, but Beyza wrestled her down and pinned her on the carpeted floor.

"I can do much more than that, my Somali goddess," Beyza whispered, then she kissed Manal full and deep. Manal returned Beyza's kiss with a passion that surprised her, and just like that, completely unplanned, the two young women began making love. Passionately, tenderly, they explored one another.

"This is so damn hot," Beyza whispered, giggling happily as Manal licked her from her head to her toes. Under the Somali chick's expert touch, the tough Turkish tomboy found herself reduced to a quivering, moaning heap. Manal kissed Beyza's lips, and licked her breasts, then buried her face between her legs.

"Just relax and enjoy, sweetie," Manal said, and then she stuck her tongue into Beyza's cunt, and Beyza shuddered as Manal began eating her out and fingering her. Beyza found herself crying out as Manal pleasured her, that magic tongue of hers probing and pleasuring her like never before.

"You're killing me," Beyza moaned softly, and Manal laughed, then inserted two fingers into her cunt, causing Beyza to cry out. Manal continued what she was doing, until, orgasmic, Beyza cried out and howled in ecstasy, driven absolutely nuts by the intensity of the orgasms Manal triggered within her.

"The French call the orgasm la petite mort or the little death," Manal whispered, gathering a trembling, ecstatic Beyza in her arms. Her face nestled between Manal's large, firm breasts, Beyza hugged her tightly. The two young women looked at each other, and began the kisses again.

That night changed Beyza Ataturk's life, and she and Manal became inseparable. Over the next couple of months, they hung out together, fucked every chance they got, went to movies and restaurants together, and lived it up. Until Beyza came to Manal's dorm one night, and found her in the arms of another woman.

"Oh shit," Manal said, a guilty look on her face as a shocked Beyza stood at the door, stunned by the sight of a buxom blonde-haired white chick sitting on Manal's lap. Beyza looked at the young woman she loved, in the arms of another. Shaking her head, Beyza stormed out of the dorm. Beyza could hear Manal shouting her name, but she kept running and never looked back.

"Fuck that cheating bitch," Beyza said, to no one in particular, as she sat in her dorm, alone that night. She'd already deleted Manal Ismail from her Facebook, and erased her from her list of contacts on her iPhone. Sighing deeply, wiping away a stray tear, Beyza Ataturk lay on her bed, trying hard to forget the face that would haunt her dreams for a long time whether she liked it or not. The face of Manal Ismail, the beautiful young woman who changed her world...and broke her heart.