Nadia Fakri Of Morocco

As Salaam Alaikum, dear traveler. I am Nadia Fakri, proud Muslim sister originally from the City of Marrakesh, Morocco. When most people first meet me, they often say that I'm not what they expect. I stand five foot nine inches tall, a bit curvy but fit, with golden brown skin, long black hair and light brown eyes. A perfect example of Berber womanhood.

You might see me walking about in the Back Bay area of Boston, or Copley Mall, or Boston's Theater District, my old stomping grounds, and make certain assumptions about me. I wear the Hijab, and have a fondness for traditional Islamic dress. I am proud of the culture in which I was born. I do my own thing, though. Make no assumptions, please. If you do, you will end up looking like a fool.

A lot of people think that one cannot be a Muslim and a woman who loves women. I don't like the term lesbian. It's too politically charged for my liking. Tell people that you're a lesbian and it conjures up within their minds the image of a short-haired, masculine female who despises males and yet copies all of their stereotypical behaviors while pursuing typically traditionally feminine ladies. Um, that's totally not me.

I, Nadia Fakri, love women, but I have no hatred in my heart for the male of the human species. I love men. I simply don't have sex with them. I am quite close to my father Ismail Fakri and my younger brother Ali Fakri. My family is wholly supportive and accepting of my way of life. Does that surprise you? Again, it shouldn't. Remember, I warned you against making assumptions...

I don't attend LGBT events anymore, though I used to visit them. I discovered, much to my horror, that a lot of Gay White males and White Lesbians are just as bigoted as their Heterosexual counterparts. Conventional wisdom would have us believe that such people are progressive and tolerant across the board. Nothing could be further from the truth...

Imagine my shock when I see a flamboyant, effeminate Queer Caucasian male shout his hatred for racial minorities to the frigging mountaintops. The dude is spewing racial hatred while holding the Rainbow flag, supposedly the flag of tolerance. I don't want to be part of any group that tolerates such a person. The LGBT community can miss me with that shit.

To most of my fellow Muslims, I am doing something Haram by being who and what I am, a woman who loves women. To the LGBT community, I will forever be the other because my skin is brown, my hair is dark, my eyes are dark, and I wear the Hijab and speak Arabic. What's a gal to do? I simply choose to go my own way.

I was born of the Desert, and one day, when the time comes, I will be buried beneath its sands, like my ancestors before me. I lived in my native Marrakesh until the nineteenth summer of my life. That's when my parents, Ismail Fakri and Noor Fakri decided to send me to study at a certain college in the United States. They wanted me to have a bright future. The idea of studying in the United States of America appealed to me.

Before we go any further, I want to inform you that I'm a naughty gal by nature. America didn't change me, it merely brought out what had always been inside of me. Being raised in a strict Muslim household did nothing to curb my rebellious nature. I've always been a sensualist, and I find beauty in the female form. I have a life to live, and I firmly believe in having new experiences. I was ripe for a life of wildness and adventure long before I left Marrakesh.

I discovered the world of BDSM while attending Bay State College, a quaint private school located in the heart of Boston, Massachusetts. There was a munch for BDSM afficionados taking place at this restaurant called the Club Cafe in the Back Bay area, and I went there out of curiosity. From that day forward, life would never be the same...

Is there a rule which states that a Hijab-wearing Muslim woman can't be interested in the world of BDSM? I think not. During that munch at the Club Cafe, I met my future mentor, a six-foot-tall, alluring Arab-American woman named Mariam Aoun. This raven-haired, bronze-skinned beauty is originally from Lebanon, and has been dabbling into BDSM for over a decade.

"Nadia, my sister, welcome to a brand new world," Mariam said to me, as she satisified my curiosity by telling me all the things I wanted to know about BDSM. I think it's a stroke of luck that I met Mariam Aoun there, since there are so few of us Middle-Easterners in the BDSM lifestyle. I felt shy at that munch, with twelve men and nine women, all of whom were white. I was the only newbie at the table, and would have left out of nervousness if it hadn't been for Mariam...

"I've been curious about BDSM for a long time," I admitted, and Mariam smiled reassuringly at me. I was mesmerized by Mariam, this Lebanese Muslim woman who was so comfortable with her sexuality and oozed a kind of power that I never thought I would possess. Mariam was very much her own woman, while I was still bound by the traditions and ways of my Moroccan heritage.

"No worries, my sister, I'll show you," Mariam said, smiling at me. I returned Mariam's smile, and saw something in her eyes which gave me pause. In my hometown of Marrakesh, I would look at the beautiful young women I saw at school, at the marketplace and at the mosque. Brown women, Black women, and every shade in between. I would admire their lovely bodies and look into their eyes, always looking for something...

"Show me," I replied softly, and Mariam grinned, her eyes sparkling. We go for a walk together, around the City of Boston, surely one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Mariam Aoun moved to Boston from her hometown of Nabatieh, Lebanon, a long time ago. I learned that she studied civil engineering at Northeastern University. Brains and beauty, eh? Nice. Real nice.

"I'm glad I met you, Nadia," Mariam says to me as we part ways, three hours later. I'm standing in front of South Station and Mariam is about to leave. She's taking the train back to Randolph, Massachusetts, where she lives. We hug, and I feel her lips against my cheek. I smile and hug her fiercely. We part ways, and I watch her walk away. Nice butt, I think to myself, admiring Mariam's firm backside.

The next time we meet, Mariam Aoun and I grab lunch at a nearby restaurant, Au Bon Pain, and then go catch a movie. Afterwards, we walk around the City of Boston, and I impulsively grab her hand. Mariam smiles and brings my hand to her lips. I gush, and she winks at me. It's my first date. Ever. Of course, I don't tell Mariam that. People stare at us as we walk by. I don't care. I feel like I can fly.

When Mariam finally brings me home, we don't do a lot of talking. That will come after. We kiss, and tumble into bed together. She rolls on top of me, and takes my face into her hands. I caress her curvy yet strong body, my hands firmly grasping her fine ass. Mariam smiles, and then kisses me once more.

"Make love to me," I say in Arabic, and Mariam smiles and we undress one another. Off comes my Hijab, and my lover caresses my curly dark hair even as she slides her tongue down my throat. My hands reach for Mariam's breasts, they're small and feel wonderful in my hands. I feel her hand slide between my legs, and gasp as her fingers enter my already wet womanhood.

"Open up for me, Habibiti ( beloved )," Mariam whispers in my ear, and I smile and do just that. Mariam kisses my lips, my throat and my breasts. I feel her warm mouth on my nipples, even as she works two digits into my vagina, rubbing my clitoris between her thumb and index fingers. I cry out in sheer pleasure as Mariam works me over. She's got magic hands, this woman...

"Oh fuck," I shriek as Mariam brings her lovely face between my legs. I feel her tongue on my clit, even as her fingers slide in and out of my pussy. I shudder violently as Mariam works her magic on me. Orgasmic, I moan and writhe on the bed, and Mariam tastes me as I ooze with hot girly cum. My first time with another woman, and it's absolutely amazing.

"Welcome to a brand new world," Mariam says softly, gathering me in her arms. Later, Mariam will show me new things, like how delightful it feels to let her tie me up and fuck me. For now, though, she's all tenderness and affection and I hug her and kiss her. I can't get enough of her. Whatever happens between us, Mariam is my first lover, the one I will never forget. With a smile on my face, I fall asleep in her arms.