Muslim Men Lie Femdom Too

"Are you a switch-hitter?" Those sterling words came from my girlfriend Sharon Thibault as she clutched the copy of Chicks With Dicks, a transsexual-themed porno magazine I've jerked off to times uncounted. Like most guys, I have a hidden stash of porn at my place. Don't judge me. I was lying in bed, pleasurably sore after a night of passionate lovemaking, and little did I know, I was in for one hell of a rude awakening.

"What's the matter, Bilal, cat got your fucking tongue?" Sharon shouted vehemently, and I looked at the six-foot-tall, gorgeous young blonde woman whom I loved so damn much, and felt fear for the first time in ages. Sharon is a passionate woman with a lot of strong political views on social stuff, while I'm a laid back kind of guy. Opposites definitely do attract, because Sharon and I, we couldn't be more different. The question is, will we stay together?

"Sharon, please, I can explain," I managed to squeak out before Sharon tossed the magazine at my face. I managed to dodge most of it, though the magazine spine caught me on the forehead. Damn, this is definitely going to leave a mark, I thought as I leapt out of bed, chasing and pleading after a shrieking Sharon, who grabbed her clothes and grabbed the door handle.

"Screw you!" Sharon shouted and then she rushed out of my apartment, leaving me standing there, stunned. How the fuck did this shit happen? I keep my porn magazines hidden in a box under my bed! Last night, Sharon and I came home after watching the movie Batman V. Superman at the Silver City movie theater, and we were all over each other as we reached my place in Gloucester. We're both nerds, and really dug the movie, critics be damned.

You should have seen the way people looked at Sharon and I as we went into the movie theater in Ottawa's east end last night. Let's just say that we make for one striking couple. I'm six-foot-three, lean and athletic, with dark brown skin, long curly black hair and brown eyes. My father Ahmed Elmi is originally from the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and my mother Elisabeth Whitmore is white, originally from the City of Halifax, Nova Scotia. Guess that makes me technically biracial, though I identify as African-Canadian.

My Sharon steals the show wherever she goes, and I can't get enough of her. Six feet tall, curvy and sexy, in a voluptuous kind of way, with an angelic face and a spectacular, thick and round ass that would make Tennis legend and model Serena Williams green with envy. Sharon is originally from the City of Montreal, Quebec, and we met two years ago in the Engineers Of The Future Club at Carleton University. At first, Sharon and I clashed, due to differing opinions and such, but then we fell in love.

Prior to meeting my darling Sharon, I wasn't much of a romantic, and didn't feel that love held much hope for me. I grew up in a household with a Muslim father from East Africa and a Catholic mother from Quebec. My parents were always bickering over religion and culture, and how I should be raised. I am a secular human being, though I respect all religions. I just want to graduate from Carleton University with my engineering degree, get out into the world and make a name for myself. Cool?

After Sharon Thibault came into my life, everything changed. This tall, gorgeous and fearless Quebecoise simply took my breath away. I fell in love with Sharon's brash ways, and her hot body, of course. For ages, I secretly did the bed-hopping thing with both women and men, but I stopped after meeting Sharon. I decided to forsake all others, male and female, and focused on loving Sharon and building a life with her. I never thought that my past would catch up with me...

"I can totally imagine you in a Wonder Woman outfit," I whispered to Sharon as we tumbled onto my bed, and she laughed and got on top of me. Sharon's breath smelled of overpriced movie theater Pepsi, and mint. I looked up at the tall, curvy, sinfully sexy woman on top of me and grinned, and Sharon grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, which was blue and emblazoned with the Superman logo because, hey, I'm a nerd through and true. Some women love nerds, and I'm lucky I found one of those.

"Hmmm, I think I'd rather be the Hawk Woman, since we both love our chocolate," Sharon said, grinning, and then she kissed me. Just like that, we began making love. Off came my superhero T-shirt, black sweatpants and boxers. Yeah, I'm mister casual when I'm at the movies. Sharon looked absolutely hot stripped down to her bra and panties, and my eager hands ran all over that Olympian body of hers.

"Sounds good to me," I said, and I fastened my lips to Sharon's nipples even as I slipped my hand between her legs. I know what my lady likes. Sharon's cunt felt wet around my fingers, and I teased her clit with my thumb while sliding three fingers into her pussy. Sharon sighed happily as I flicked my tongue over the areolas of her tits, and then I made my way to the space between her thighs.

"Right where I need you most," Sharon said in that throaty, husky voice I always find so sexy, and I smiled at her before planting a big kiss on her pussy lips. I love Sharon's pussy, and can't get enough of the way it smells and tastes. I've gone down on quite a few ladies and a handful of dudes, and by far, Sharon surpasses them all. I buried my face between her legs and slid my tongue into her womanhood, and began pleasuring her.

"I want to ride your face," Sharon whispered, and I grinned as she straddled me, then sat on my face, facing away from me. The sight of Sharon's creamy white booty as she lowered it onto my face thrilled me like you would not believe. I am definitely an ass man, and Sharon's booty is something I can never get enough of. Sharon smothered my face, and I slid my tongue into her asshole even as I fingered her pussy. Soon I had my sweetie moaning and writhing as I worked her over.

"Now back that thing up," I said to Sharon, a little while later, as I put her on all fours and entered her from behind. Sharon laughed and pressed her thick ass against my groin, and I thrust my dick into her. Sharon's thick booty undulated as I fucked her, and her pussy gripped my dick like a vise. I smacked Sharon's ass while fucking her, and she laughed and kept grinding on me. Shoot, I love it when she does that, and we sucked and fucked the night away.

"You always rock my boat," Sharon whispered in my ear, a couple of hours later. We lay side by side in my bed, and I got to tell you, I was tired as hell. Sharon has a habit of wearing out a brother, and this feisty Quebecoise can keep going like the frigging energizer bunny. It's one of the many things I love about her. Sharon is gorgeous, and fearless. I became a better and stronger person as a result of having her in my life.

As a person of color living in today's Canada, I walk a fine line. My father is black and my mother is white, and the fact that they're still married is a testament to their strength. My mother's prim and proper, proudly Catholic and staunchly Quebecois family didn't approve of her marrying a Muslim man from Africa. To this day, my mother is estranged from them. Mom doesn't talk about it but I know the estrangement hurt her.

Before I met Sharon, I mainly dated black girls. I met several white girls I found attractive, but I didn't go for it because, well, a lot of white girls don't seem to realize the pure, abject hatred that the sight of black male/white female couples triggers in white males. If you're a black man in a relationship with a white woman, you've got to be strong and make sure she's a strong woman because white society will do anything to split you up. Your white male friends, and guys you think are cool with you will hate you for dating "one of their women". Sad but true.

"I love you, Bilal, and I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks," Sharon said to me, six months into our relationship. We were sitting inside the Starbucks located within the Carleton University Library, and even though our campus is quite diverse, more than a few people stared at Sharon and I. One of those people was a young white dude whom I once had class with, and he walked in with his black girlfriend. The two of them looked at Sharon and I, and identical frowns appeared on their faces. Go figure.

"My strong woman," I said, and Sharon smiled as I took her hand and brought it to my lips. I think that's when I realized that Sharon is undoubtedly the one for me. Sure, I'd slept with a few ladies, and fooled around with some Somali guys I knew in my younger days, but only Sharon made my heart beat. So, I walked away from all others and decided to make Sharon mine. We kissed passionately, not caring what anyone thought. I would seriously die for this woman, folks.

A deep, sad sigh escaped my lips as I sat in my living room, and sipped on some Cognac. I don't normally drink before lunchtime, but today is a great exception, don't you think? I've called Sharon's cell phone numerous times, and got no answer. I've also texted her and got no reply. What's a brother to do, folks? Seriously, I am out of ideas. I kind of want to go to her place or maybe swing by her job at a certain French restaurant in Orleans but don't think it's a good idea. Sharon is scary when she's angry, and I feel that she needs more time.

"Sharon, I am sorry that I didn't tell you, but, um, yes, I am bisexual, and I've forsaken all others the day I met you, I haven't slept with anyone else," I said haltingly into the phone, as I left voice mail number five on Sharon's cellphone. Leaning back in my chair, I looked at the ceiling. I wondered how things could go south so damn fast. Seriously, last night was absolutely wonderful and downright spectacular, and today is pure shit!

At ten o'clock that Saturday morning, I hopped in the shower, and then got dressed and went to work. I work the 11 A.M. to 7 P.M. shift on weekends as security for an empty office building located in downtown Ottawa. My afternoons are spent doing boring patrols, and occasionally talking to cleaning crew people, all for twelve dollars an hour. I'm a security guard, at least until I graduate from Carleton and find a job in my field. I was sitting on a staircase, playing Minecraft on my iPhone when it rang.

"Hello Bilal," came Sharon's voice, and my heart skipped a beat. I wanted to plead with Sharon to hear my side of the story, since I barely got a word out before she stormed from my apartment earlier. Before I could say anything, however, Sharon spoke in that crisp, businesslike tone that she uses in situations she finds truly distasteful. All hell was about to break loose...

"Bilal, I know that you love me, but you didn't love me enough to tell me your secrets, even though I told you early on that you could tell me anything," Sharon said, and I took a deep breath. I wanted to plead with Sharon to give me another chance, but I didn't get the chance. The words poured out of her, sharp and angry, and businesslike all at once.

"Sharon, I didn't cheat on you with anyone, man or woman, I walked away from it all, for you, I should have thrown away the magazines, I see that now," I managed to squeak out, and on the other end, Sharon fell silent. I held my breath, and my heart hammered in my chest, and I waited for Sharon to say the words that would crush me forever.

"Bilal Elmi, you shouldn't hide your freaky side from me," Sharon said, and I agreed with her. Shoot, what else was I going to say or do? People, you need to understand that I love my sweet Sharon more than life itself. This is the only woman I've ever introduced to my family. The thought of never holding Sharon's hand again as we go for leisurely strolls through the Carleton campus crushed my heart. It's funny the things you know you're going to miss, as it's about to end.

"Sharon, I love you, and I will do anything you ask, I just want you back," I pleaded into the phone, and on the other end, Sharon chuckled. I paused, not knowing what to think. Um, we're talking now, that's a good thing, right? All I've got to do is apologize and make a grand gesture, and hopefully my lady love will see my sincerity, and forgive. Piece of cake, right?

"Alright, Bilal, you can stop begging, I'll take you back but you've got to do something for me," Sharon said, and then I heard myself agree to it before even hearing her demand. In future time, I'll have to remember not to do that, seriously. The things we do for love, eh? Don't laugh or shake your head, dear reader. I'm sure you've been in a similar situation at some point.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked Sharon, and she laughed, and I laughed too, out of sheer nervousness mixed with relief. Hey, Sharon just said that she forgives me, right? All I've got to do is fulfill the terms of my penance, so to speak, and then everything will be back to normal between us. How long can a woman hold onto a grudge anyways?

"After your shift, I need you to go to go Pleasures N Treasures, the porno shop on Rideau Street, and buy a strap-on dildo, because I want to fuck that sweet ass of yours," Sharon said, and then she laughed and hung up. I sat there on the stairwell, frozen, as conflicting feelings warred within me. On the one hand, I got my girlfriend back. A lot of females will dump a man if they find out he's bisexual, but my lady love isn't like that. Sharon is sexy, bossy and kinky. So, um, why am I scared?

"Yes, um, I'll take the strap-on to go," I said to the dark-haired white chick sitting behind the counter at the adult video store, and she smiled as I took out my MBNA Mastercard and paid for the item. After paying for it, I took a snapshot of it with my iPhone and texted the picture to Sharon, who replied with a smiley face, then added that she couldn't wait to fuck me with it. I walked out of there with a nervous smile on my face. The things I do for Sharon, the kinky, bossy and twisted woman I love. Oh, well. I got my lady back, that's what matters.