Hijab Girls for Bisexual Men

"Adam, just because I'm a Muslim woman and wear the Hijab doesn't automatically make me a prude," Zahra Makassed said haughtily, waving the vintage erotica novel Peeping At Pamela by Yolanda Celbridge in my damn face. Zahra likes to read sex stories. I smiled and nodded gently at the lovely young woman sitting across from me. What am I going to do with her?

At this hour, the Westgate Mall was quite lively, full of old folks, and young people going about their day. Carling is technically part of Nepean, but I live in quietly affluent Barrhaven, the "good" side of Nepean, Ontario. Hope I don't sound like a bit of a snob. Alright, I guess living in Barrhaven has started to rub off on me a little bit. What can I say? A man's milieu has a way of influencing him, whether he likes it or not...

I don't come by Carling Avenue too often, today is indeed a special occasion. I came by to open up a new student checking account with the Royal Bank of Canada...and found my pal Zahra Makassed doing some shopping nearby. Never one to snub a friend by not saying hello, I approached Zahra and greeted her. My casual greeting turned into a full-length conversation, and next thing I know, Zahra and I were sitting at the food court, eating sandwiches while discussing our love lives.

Folks walking by stared at Zahra and I, partly because we come from very different worlds. Zahra is half black and half Arab, but looks more Arab than black for some reason. Folks often ask her if she's from Morocco, Yemen or Brazil, since they mistake her for some variety of Arab, North African or occasionally, Latino. Zahra Makassed is proud of her partial African heritage and quite active in the black student groups at our school. It's one of the things I love about her.

My name is Adam Lescot, and I was born in the City of Miami, Florida, to a Haitian immigrant father and a Latin-American mother from Guatemala. I'm six-foot-one, a bit chubby, with medium brown skin, a bit of an Afro, and a slick goatee. People say I look like Rapper Ice Cube, only I'm the same shade as The Rock. I am equally proud of my Afro-Caribbean roots and my Latin roots, and I'm fluent in Haitian Creole, Spanish and English. I'm that brother representing his people by wearing "Black Lives Matter" T-shirts.

My parents, Louis Lescot and Julianna Batista-Lescot got divorced a few years back, and my mother moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, a while ago. I was bummed about the split, but it was amicable. Some things just aren't meant to be. Mom got a job as an executive for a Canadian tech company, Ciena Incorporated. Dad would visit us from Florida whenever he could. Not exactly an ideal situation but life happens, am I right or am I right?

When I first came to the capital of Canada, I found the place boring and hated it with a fiery passion. The province of Ontario, Canada, is a far cry from the Sunshine State where I was born and raised, that's for damn sure. I used to go to Florida to visit my father ever summer. Those were the days. Adjusting to life in the City of Ottawa as a biracial American wasn't easy, but I did the best I could. It's not so bad out here. I attend Carleton University, I have a job selling phones at the Bayshore Mall, and up until recently, I had a girlfriend, Aneeja Singh of Kerala, India. How times change...

"Of course not, my dear, you're anything but a prude," I replied, and gently took Zahra's hands in mine, and brought them to my lips. Zahra giggled and said nothing. I've known Zahra for quite some time now, and although we're close friends, even on the best of days she can be a bit of a handful. Five-foot-ten, curvy and quite lovely, with golden brown skin and a slightly angular face framed by curly black hair which she almost always tucks away under her Hijab, Zahra is indeed a cutie.

Born of a Lebanese-Canadian father and a Jamaican immigrant mother, Zahra Makassed is the union of two completely different worlds. When we first met, we totally clicked and called ourselves "The Mixed Brats." We're both biracial, get it? Zahra and I used to hang out a lot, and we told each other everything. In fact, aside from my mother, Zahra is the only person who knows that I'm a bisexual man. It's not something I go around telling people, even though Ottawa is a fairly liberal town and gay marriage is legal nationwide in Canada. Homophobia still exists, so I'm cautious.

"I miss Saif," Zahra whined for the umpteenth time, and I rolled my eyes and sipped my Pepsi. Seriously, I was tired of hearing Zahra whine about Saif Alharbi, a Saudi Arabian student she met and subsequently dated last year. I never thought much of Saif, to tell you the truth. The guy was lazy, blew the money given to him by his government on sheer nonsense, and he was a tad bit too controlling in his dealings with Zahra. Good riddance, I remember thinking on the day that Zahra told me Saif dumped her and moved back to Dammam, Saudi Arabia.

"I miss Aneeja Singh, but letting go of her was for the best," I said as I downed the remainder of my Pepsi, suddenly wishing I were drinking something much stronger, like Irish Whiskey. Try as I might, I couldn't forget about the short, curvaceous young Indian woman I met in the Carleton University library almost two years ago. Aneeja and I had a good time, and I'd like to think she cared about me, but let's face it, a lot of Indians don't like black people.

Aneeja Singh and I were seeing each other for a while and while I met her friends and introduced her to my family, she never reciprocated. A week after my fourth year at Carleton University started, I went to the third floor of the campus library to see her, since it's our favorite spot. Aneeja acted like she hadn't seen me, and when I later ran into her in the stairwells, she flashed me a fake smile and took out her phone to blab with someone else. Cold, eh? Things hadn't been great between us for some time, but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was done with that chick, seriously.

"Honestly, Adam, this Aneeja chick was nothing but trouble, you were much happier with Rashid," Zahra said, and I bristled at her casual mention of my ex-boyfriend's name. I met Rashid Elmi while working as a security guard at a grocery store located in the South Keys area, and we became friends. I never thought the tall, lean and handsome, masculine Somali dude was queer, but he was bisexual, and he liked me a lot. Rashid and I began a passionate, if secretive, romance. One which lasted almost two years.

Rashid Elmi was paranoid about his conservative Somali Muslim family finding out that he swung both ways. His paranoia and a few other issues brought our relationship to the brink...and it ended badly. Look, it's not easy to be a bisexual man in today's world, I get that. Rashid often felt guilty after we had sex, and this bothered me a great deal. I'm closeted myself and understood the need for discretion, but Rashid's self-loathing bothered me and I ended our relationship.

Still, if I'm totally honest with myself, sometimes I miss Rashid Elmi. I miss the feel of his big Somali dick up my ass, among other things. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy sex with the ladies, and my ex-girlfriend Aneeja the cutie from Kerala, India, was quite good in bed. Man, the things we used to do together, Aneeja and I. I would lay my favorite cutie in bed, and lick her golden brown body from her head to her toes. I kind of like short girls, I don't know why.

I have something of an oral fixation, and love going down on ladies...and men. Aneeja and would spread her thick, shapely thighs and I would bury my face between them, eating her out with gusto. My cutie would squeal and moan as I fingered her pussy while teasing her clit with my tongue. I would lick her pussy until she squirmed and finally gave it up, the girly juice. I love the taste of female cum and can't get enough of it...

"I'm going to ride your face," Aneeja said to me, a few nights ago, after we came home from seeing The Magnificent Seven, the new version featuring Denzel Washington and that guy from Jurassic Park and Guardians of The Galaxy. Aneeja looked sexy in a red tank top and blue jeans, and that thick ass of hers was begging for my attention. I was down for whatever...

"Yes ma'am," I replied as I lay on our bed, and Aneeja tossed aside her panties and climbed on top of me. My lady sat on my face, and I inhaled her scent. Sliding two fingers into Aneeja's pussy I fingered her snatch while my tongue wormed its way into her asshole. A lot of brothers can't admit that they eat ass, but I am not one of them. I devoured Aneeja's butt hole, eating her out until she squirmed and came. Hell yeah, I've got the magic touch...too bad it wasn't enough.

Afterwards, I put Aneeja on all fours and rolled a condom on my dick, and then pushed it into her pussy. Slowly, passionately, I made love to my lady. Aneeja was real precious to me, and I enjoyed pleasuring her. We went at it for a good while, and I really beat the pussy up, as they say. Aneeja's screams of passion filled our room, and we fucked and sucked the night away. It was awesome.

Aneeja Singh and I simply weren't meant to be. I can see that now. I tried everything I could to make her happy, but let's face it, a relationship cannot work if it's one person doing all the work. I am the son of a black man from the island of Haiti, and my mother is a Latin lady from Guatemala. I remembered the way people stared at us, simply for being an interracial family, back in the day in Miami. I thought Aneeja and I could have something special, like my folks once did, but you can't have a love story when it's only one person in love.

"Nah, Zahra, I'm cool," I said, snapping out of my reverie, and I looked away from Zahra, and glanced at a young couple that came nearby. A white dude dressed like he was trying to be the next Eminem, and a tall, plump black chick. The two walked about the Westgate Mall, hand in hand, and their eyes fell upon Zahra and I. I smiled politely, though I saw disapproval in those eyes of theirs. I'll never understand why a lot of black girls who date men of other races get antsy when they see a brother with a woman who isn't black. What gives?

"Cute couple," Zahra said, even though I'm sure she saw the way the black chick with the white boyfriend dressed like a wannabe rapper looked at the two of us. I wonder what that young black woman with the white boyfriend would think if she knew that Zahra is half black and half Arab, as in technically black if one goes by the one-drop-rule. Whatever. Absentmindedly my hand brushed against Zahra's, and to my surprise, she gave it a squeeze.

"Your hands smell wonderful," I said, and Zahra smiled, and then she leaned closer and did something completely unexpected. She kissed me. The first thing I noticed was how soft and tasty Zahra's lips were. Maybe it's because she's so damn sassy. When we paused to breathe, I stared at her, dumbfounded, and Zahra leaned back in her chair, took a sip of her ice tea, and then gave me a cat who ate the canary type of grin.

"Adam, I've been wanting to do this for ages," Zahra said, and I smiled nervously. The last time I felt this nervous was when I let Rashid talk me into getting it on one night in the basement of our old workplace. Rashid basically bent me over after I sucked him off and then he stuffed me like a thanksgiving turkey. The brother shoved his dick up my ass and showed me who's boss. Good times, folks. Good times...

"Love doing it bareback," Rashid said, smirking as he pulled his thick and dark Somali dick out of my decidedly sore ass. Rashid has fucked me dozens of times, but doing it bareback in a semi-public place was definitely a first. I tried to catch my breath, and laughed nervously. Rashid and I put our clothes back on and then exited the basement. Indeed, we went back upstairs and watched over the place as if nothing had happened. What can I say? I was a wild one once.

First and only time I let anyone fuck me without a condom. The handsome Somali Muslim brother known as Rashid Elmi could talk me into almost anything, I swear. That impromptu sexual encounter in the basement of our old workplace was one of my many regrets. Glad nothing came of it. I've gotten checked for STIs several times since that particular encounter and I'm clean. Let us just chuck it up to youthful foolishness and let's move on, please.

"Zahra, you're beautiful but we're friends," I finally replied, pulling myself out of my little trip down memory lane, and Zahra nodded, and casually reached under the table, laying her hand on my crotch. Yes, folks, you read right. A Hijab-wearing Muslim woman grabbed my crotch as we sat inside the crowded food court of the Westgate Mall in Nepean, Ontario. Alright, I'm a freaky guy who does it with dudes and chicks...and this gal just shocked me!

"Stop fussing, Adam, I want you and I know you want me, we're both single, so, what do you say?" Zahra asked coyly, and I looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. I must say, even though I was surprised by Zahra's words and deeds, I was indeed curious, and more than a little turned on. Alright, I've had some inappropriate thoughts about Zahra a few times, I must admit.

"Zahra, you're smoking hot, but I'd hate to ruin our friendship," I said, and then Zahra's eyes narrowed and she gripped my crotch...hard. I winced, and then bit my lip. Zahra looked at me, the coyness gone, and a look of displeasure bordering on anger on her lovely place. I felt both scared and turned on. As those conflicting feelings warred within me, I made a decision.

"Trust me, Adam, you don't know what you're missing," Zahra said, and then she got up, grabbed her purse and walked away. I sat there, frozen. As I watched Zahra walk away, looking so majestic in her long-sleeved shirt and traditional long skirt, her curvy body sashaying from side that side, that big ass practically calling me out...I got up, fueled by a combination of lust, anger and fear.

"Let me show you what you're missing, lady," I said, and then I grabbed Zahra's arm, spun her around and pulled her to me. I saw surprise in those golden brown eyes of hers. I've often been accused of being quite passive, both with women and men. I'm not the most assertive man in the world. Well, this ends now. I pressed my lips against Zahra's and kissed her.

"This is crazy," Zahra said, a few moments later, as we got it on in a backroom in the basement of the Westgate Mall. A long time ago, believe it or not, I worked the overnight shift there as a security guard. For example, I knew of a backroom near the janitors room, and upon finding it with a "closed" sign on it, I whisked Zahra inside for a quickie.

"Tell me about it," I said as I knelt before Zahra, who hiked up her traditional Islamic skirt and pulled down her bright pink panties. I brought my face closer to her pelvic area and inhaled the scent of her womanhood. I have an oral fixation, as I said before. A hard dick or a juicy pussy, I really don't discriminate. Zahra leaned against the wall, looking so damn alluring, a Hijabi with her panties around her ankles, and I felt more turned on than I'd ever been by this mixture of the sacred and the naughty...

"Shut up Adam," Zahra said, and she grabbed the back of my neck and pressed my face against her pussy. I licked her, loving the way she smelled and tasted. I've been on my knees before well-endowed gay and bisexual studs before, and sucked the hell out of their hard dicks. This time, I was kneeling before a gorgeous, sinfully sexy yet pious young woman and pleasuring orally, sliding my tongue into her pussy and licking her with wild abandon...

Zahra closed her eyes and rubbed her hands against her breasts, and I saw her nipples perk up under her shirt. I continued pleasuring her, and soon felt her pussy get wet, and knew I was on the right track. Zahra let out a loud squeal, and I pressed on, flicking my tongue over her clit while stabbing her cunt with my fingers, twisting them this way and that inside of her.

"Wow, you're really in my spot," Zahra cried out, and I watched as she shuddered violently. I used my tongue like a spear and stabbed at her clitoris, and that's when Zahra absolutely lost it. A shocked gasp escaped her lips, and then I felt it. Like rain on my face. A few droplets of her girly cum, which I lapped up with my tongue. I made her cum. Zahra was on cloud nine, and I brought her there...

"What the hell are you doing in there?" came a voice, and my head snapped back, and I found myself looking at the janitor, a middle-aged brown dude of unknown ethnic origin. Wide-eyed, the older dude stared at Zahra and I, and I smiled and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Before I could reply to the man, Zahra beat me to the punch...

"Stop gawking and close the door, will you? We're just finishing here," Zahra said briskly, and amazingly, the janitor actually did as she told him to. I got up, and watched as Zahra unhurriedly readjusted her clothes, and then once more, she was the picture of Islamic feminine modesty, with her traditional dress on and her Hijab on point. Hot damn. Women are mysterious creatures, aren't they?

"Let's go back to my place and finish what we started," I said to Zahra, who smiled and nodded. Arm in arm, we walked to the escalator and rode it out of the basement of the Westgate Mall. We exited the mall through the entrance near the TD Bank just as mall security rushed past us, probably heading to the basement, thanks to the janitor's tip.

"Sounds good to me, Adam," Zahra said, and she playfully slapped my ass as we caught the 85 bus, and rode it to the O-Train Station. From there, Zahra and I caught the 95 bus heading to Barrhaven Center. We sat in the middle chairs, kissing and fondling each other and not caring who was watching. Old white folks, young black folks, brown people, Muslims, everyone stared at us. And Zahra and I didn't give a damn.

"Feels nice," I said, sighing happily as Zahra knelt before me, and took my dick into her mouth. We walked from Marketplace Station in downtown Barrhaven to my spot in Pizzeria Street, and once we got home, Zahra and I got busy in the living room. My favorite Hijabi went straight for my dick, and surprised me by fingering my ass while orally pleasuring me. Hot damn, how did Zahra know I got down like that?

"Wait till you feel my little friend," Zahra paused to say, and she winked at me while sucking my dick. I'm just average, to tell you the truth, and I'm uncircumcised, which worried me for a bit because Zahra is Muslim and all. Well, my favorite Hijabi didn't seem to mind. Indeed, Zahra sucked my dick with gusto and buried two fingers up my ass, and I absolutely loved it.

"Oh fuck, I feel it now," I said, and Zahra smiled at me while plunging a certain phallic object into my asshole. At some point, Zahra pulled her fingers out of my ass and I felt suddenly empty. I was thrilled when Zahra replaced her fingers with a slim green dildo. I gasped at the intrusion in my ass, but truth be told, I liked it. The more Zahra fucked my ass with the dildo, the harder my dick got. When I came, Zahra drank my cum and then smiled at me. Gosh I like this woman!

"I've been dreaming about that ass of yours," I said to Zahra, and I watched as she disrobed. Underneath her traditional clothing, Zahra wore a very sexy pink bra and the pink panties I'd already seen when I went down on her in the basement of the Westgate Mall. Tall, curvy and sexy, with her firm tits and thick thighs demanding my attention, Zahra was a wonder to behold. My sexy lady friend got on all fours, and shook her big dark bronze ass at me.

"Don't stare at it, Adam, you silly goose, eat it," Zahra said, and I grinned and got right behind her. I spread Zahra's ass cheeks wide open, inhaled her funk and began eating the booty. A lot of brothers can't admit that they eat female ass. Well, this bisexual brother can admit that he loves booty, both male and female. I don't discriminate. I bent Zahra face down and booty up as I wormed my tongue inside her asshole.