0 comments/ 1612 views/ 0 favorites Diary Of A Hijabi Slut Ch. 01 By: Samuelx What's up people? My name is Manal Ali and I'm a young black Muslim woman of Somali descent living in the City of Gatineau, Quebec. Got a wickedly sexy story to share with you today. I was raised to be a pious and obedient Muslim sister, but lately, I've been letting out my naughty side. I like sex, I like it freaky and kinky and I don't apologize for it. Just because I wear the Hijab and a traditional long skirt doesn't mean I'm soft and sweet. You've definitely been warned. Now, if you were to look at me, you would never guess that I am the freakiest mama on the block. With my gentle smile, lowered gaze and humble manner, I could fool the Devil himself. I'm five-foot-nine and one hundred and eighty one pounds of thick, big-breasted, curvy and big-bottomed Northeast African woman. I am damn proud of my dark skin color, natural curves and all-around African loveliness. In this day and age, with a lot of black chicks hating their own and hating themselves, I feel the need to say that. People say that I look a little like Hollywood starlet Raven Symone. You know, before she started trying to be a white chick. I get that a lot. Personally, I don't see the resemblance but whatever. If anything, that crazy bitch looks like me, and not the other way around. I heard she's a lesbian. Nothing wrong with that, Raven Symone should do her thing with whoever she likes but I love the D! I'm studying civil engineering at the University of Quebec campus in Hull, Quebec. As a minority woman in a male-dominated major, I have faced my share of challenges. A lot of guys don't think women belong in certain professions. Bunch of bullshit if you ask me. Still, I'd rather be one of a few female students in a classroom full of men than to be in a room full of women and only a handful of men. I can't stand bitches with their nagging and backstabbing, and I far prefer the company of men. I like them tall, dark, smart and well-endowed, thank you very much. My boyfriend Yousef Osman is a six-foot-tall, lean and athletic, light-skinned brother whom I met three months ago while visiting my sister Fatima, who works as a security guard at the Museum of Civilizations. For Yousef and I, it was lust at first sight. Seriously, we exchanged numbers and I called him the next day. We began going out a week later. Some might say that we rushed things. I disagree. When it's right, you know it. At first, everything was cool, for Yousef Osman had a lot going on for him. The brother has a bachelor's degree in business from Carleton University and he's working on his MBA. A lot of Somali brothers would rather smoke all day or work menial jobs rather than go to school. I like a brother with ambition and goals. Yousef was delighted to discover that I am a freaky chick underneath it all. A lot of Somali sisters are super boring and conservative. I'm not one of them. I just dress like one. To fool the haters. Yousef lives in the Beechwood area of Vanier, Ontario, so getting to his place from Gatineau isn't easy but the brother is worth the trip. As soon as I got to his apartment, Yousef and I would get freaky. The brother would lay me down on his king-sized bed, spread my thick brown thighs and then eat my sweet pussy like it's his last meal. Yousef's tongue and finger action are among the best, and the brother knows how to make my pussy sizzle. After polishing my sweet pussy with his mouth and tongue, Yousef would put me on all fours and then go to work on my ass. I love having my ass eaten, and Yousef likes to stick his tongue so far up my asshole, you can't tell where he ends and I begin. Seriously, a lot of Somali brothers bore me with their religious bullshit but Yousef isn't like that. The brother likes to drink, smoke and party, and that's right up my alley. I'd rather be with a man who seems boring but is actually wickedly interesting than the other way around. Yousef likes it when I sit on his face. My man loves my thick Somali butt! Lots of brothers like having a big brown booty on their face and Yousef is no exception. I love having my ass eaten, and Yousef seems to love my ass even more than he likes my pussy. After licking my ass, Yousef usually fucks me good and proper. I am into the rough stuff, and Yousef can definitely deliver. Yousef has a long, thick brown dick that I love to wrap my lips around. I love to suck dick, and I take my sweet time when pleasuring a man orally. A lot of Somali brothers look down on a Somali female who sucks dick but Yousef isn't like that. The brother appreciates my oral skills and doesn't mind kissing me after I've sucked his dick. Is that cool or what? Our sexual encounters are always passionate. Rolling a condom on his hard dick, Yousef smiles wickedly at me. I return his smile, for I know I'm going to get it hard. Putting me on all fours, Yousef grips my wide hips and slides his big dick into my cunt. Hard and fast he pumps his dick into my pussy, and I scream passionately as he fucks me. I told Yousef to slap my ass and the brother happily obliged me. I take that dick happily, and my vaginal muscles clench around Yousef's dick as he fucks me. We go at it until we're sated, many hours later. Yeah, Yousef and I had a good thing going on, until his religious family got to him and he started telling me that my ways were haram. I never told any of my friends or family that Yousef and I were fucking like five times a week but the fool opened his mouth and told his people. Now they've got him feeling guilty and he's coming at me with the religious shit. Yousef was so damn promising. The tall, fine Somali brother let me suck his dick and ride him till kingdom come, and he would slap my booty and eat my ass before dicking me down, but now he's acting funny. I like Yousef and I care for him but I don't want to deal with a boring, stereotypical Muslim guy who is afraid of female sexuality. I dumped his ass after he came at me one too many times with the haram crap. I defriended him on Facebook. I deleted his number from my Blackberry. I'm moving on. Diary Of A Hijabi Slut Ch. 02 As Salam Alaikum, people. Manal Ali here. Your favorite tall and curvy, sinfully sexy big-booty Somali Muslim sister. After my breakup with my once-promising lover Yousef Osman, I moved on with my life. Life is too short to bother with the type of people who don't appreciate you, seriously. I am now focusing on my summer classes in the civil engineering programme at the University of Quebec in Hull. That ought to keep my mind off of sex with tall, dark and handsome men. Maybe. I miss sex with Yousef Osman, and that thick Somali dick of his. I've had it in my mouth and pussy, and it definitely rocked my world. Life without sex simply sucks. I am trying really hard to forget about Yousef and his sexual powers. I don't miss him at all. Alright, I am totally bullshitting, alright? It has been three weeks since Yousef and I split, and I was feeling sexually starved. I love sex, but I won't give my sweet and sacred Somali pussy to just any man. I, Manal Ali of Somalia, have some ground rules, thank you very much. To me, the person I share my body and heart with must be smart, good-looking, and treat me well. Oh, and he's got to be at least friendly towards us Muslims. I might sleep with them on occasion but I do not feel genuine affection toward non-Muslim males. Or males who hate Islam. Sorry, but that's just the way I am. The other day I met an interesting brother. Stevenson Fleur, a big and tall young man of Haitian descent. We got a lot of fine, good-looking Haitian brothers at the University of Quebec, and in the City of Hull in general, but I never gave them much thought until I met Steve. You see Steve, who also goes by the moniker Suleiman, is a newcomer to Islam. I have never met a Haitian Muslim before. As far as I knew, all Haitians are Christians. Well, Steve is a delicious and totally welcome exception. Like a lot of newcomers to Islam, Steve Fleur is just getting his bearings. Islam can be very confusing for a newcomer. The brother has no Islamic clothes, very few Muslim friends and doesn't even know how to pray properly. What kind of Muslim sister would I be if I didn't try my best to help a brother out? I added Steve on Facebook as a friend and crept through his profile. I was delighted to see videos of Somali female celebrities on his page, and gathered that the Haitian brother is fascinated with us Somali ladies. Is that sexy or what? Every time I saw Steve "Suleiman" Fleur at school, I would greet him and make small talk. What? Nothing in our holy texts says a proper Muslim sister can't be friendly to her Muslim brothers. Steve is a mighty fine brother, damn! I even gave him my number to, ahem, discuss Islam. Unfortunately, the Haitian brother, a brilliant accounting student, seemed a bit slow on the uptake. Still, I am one persistent little bugger when I see someone that I want. Steve finally got the hint when I 'accidentally' touched his thigh three times while we sat in the food court at school, having Tim Horton's one morning. The Haitian brother flashed me his winning smile, and then laid his hand on top of mine. I returned Steve's smile, and the intensity I saw in his normally shy brown eyes made my heart skip a beat. Yup, that's when I knew I had chosen wisely. Steve officially asked me out. Took a while but it was worth the wait. Embarking on another relationship so soon might seem ill-advised but it's my life, not yours. Steve asked me out and then, for our first date, he brought me to the Silver City movie theater in Gloucester, Ontario, and we watched the new movie Avengers : Age of Ultron. The movie was awesome, and afterwards, Steve took me to the nearby Blair Mall, where we ate some delicious Chinese food together. Afterwards, we walked around Gloucester, hand in hand, just laughing and talking. As I started to get to know Steve, I became fascinated by him. I've never given how much thought to how different cultures can be, across the Muslim world. Steve "Suleiman" Fleur is a native of the island of Haiti, whose parents, Louis and Marie Jeanne Fleur moved to Quebec when he was younger. Being raised in a Christian household, and coming from a Westerner-type lifestyle, really affected how Steve sees the world. Steve "Suleiman" Fleur and I are both Muslims, but we're from very different worlds. A Haitian-born Canadian man and a Somali woman, definitely not the sort of pairing you see every day, that's for sure. I am discovering a lot of wonderful things about Steve, and about the Haitian culture in which he was born and raised. I was stunned when Steve told me that on the island of Haiti, they've had women in their military since the country was founded in 1804, and Haitian women could vote in elections long before white women in the United States of America and Europe could! These guys really believe in equality! In Somalia, we're just trying our hand at democracy, and gender equality is an idea that clashes with our Islamic cultural norms, even though we're giving it an honest try under our new president. In Somalia, women are second to men, and that's a damn shame. Steve "Suleiman" Fleur is a proud new Muslim, but he firmly believes that I am his equal. I love his outlook on life. I love a Muslim man who respects women. I can't stand a man who oppresses women...outside the bedroom. Steve is a nice guy, and I do like a nice guy, but I don't want him to be nice to me in bed. I care for Steve, but I need him to be more aggressive. The question is, how do I bring out Steve's inner manly aggression? One evening, Steve took me to this nice Haitian restaurant called Renedad, and I sampled some delicious Haitian cuisine. White rice, with brown bean sauce, and goat meat. Seriously, I love Haitian food! After the meal, though, I acted uncharacteristically bitchy toward Steve, and as he drove us around, the brother started to get cranky. Finally, Steve confronted me about my bullshit. What did I do then? I grabbed Steve and kissed him. Steve kissed me back, and then parked his car in a darkened corner behind Wal-Mart. Once there, Steve and I got busy...at last! We kissed passionately, and then got our freak on. I took Steve's big yet gentle hands and pressed them against my chest. Tentatively Steve caressed my tits, and then kissed them once I took off my shirt. Steve began sucking on my tits while his wandering hands slipped into my panties, and he slid first one finger then two into my wet pussy. I sighed happily. Now we're getting somewhere! Steve kissed a path from my lips to my neck, and then made his way down to my belly. I leaned back in the chair, hiked up my traditional Islamic long skirt, and pulled down my panties. Steve caught a whiff of my sweet pussy and smiled, then buried his handsome face between my legs. I smiled as Steve began eating my pussy like a hungry man. Now that's what I'm talking about! After Steve gave my horny pussy a tongue bath, I grabbed his crotch and unzipped his pants. I smiled as Steve's hard dick emerged. I blinked upon noticing that Steve was uncircumcised. As a Muslim woman I'd never seen one up close. Alright, I lied. A while ago, I fooled around with this Mexican guy named Ernesto while visiting family in Montreal and he had an uncut dick. I don't mind them. They're fun and more sensitive than cut dicks. Steve looked at me and I grabbed his dick and stroked it. Damn, his dick got even harder. I leaned over and took Steve's dick into my mouth and began sucking it. Well, my first time tasting Haitian dick and I must say, if Steve's is any indication, then they're magically delicious. I greedily sucked Steve's dick and when the brother came, I drank his milkshake, if you catch my drift. I was slurping Steve's cum and the brother sighed happily and caressed my head when we were rudely interrupted. A Wal-Mart employee started hollering, and Steve shouted, and next thing I know, we were out of there. Screeching tires and all. Now, there's nothing I hate more than interrupted sex so when we got to Steve's place, we got busy. The Haitian brother worshipped my body, murmuring gentle words to me. Steve licked my pussy, sticking his tongue and fingers deep inside of me and probing me like no one else before or since. I found myself crying out his name as he made me cum. Shoot, no man had ever made me cum on the first attempt. Afterwards, I looked at Steve, for I was clearly surprised. Nice guys are supremely freaky, aren't they? Afterwards, Steve made me climb on top of him and told me to ride his jimmy, as he calls his dick. Once he rolled a condom on his manhood, I was ready to play. I straddled Steve and impaled myself on his dick. The Haitian brother slapped my ass and pinched my tits as I rode him. I wanted to slay Steve's dick with my Somali pussy so I clenched my vaginal muscles around his rod. Soon the brother was moaning and groaning. I rode Steve hard till he came. Yup, I got it like that. Steve and I got off to a slow start, but the Haitian Muslim brother is definitely promising. Steve is some kind of freaky, folks, and the stuff he is into might be too much for me. I thought Haitian church guys were all soft and sweet, but I was wrong. Steve, the proverbial nice guy, is a freak in disguise. Now that he's Muslim, the brother is hollering at all kinds of women. I'm lucky I got him first. I am going to have lots of fun with Steve. Stay tuned for me. Diary Of A Hijabi Slut Ch. 03 As Salam Alaikum, my people. The name is Steve "Suleiman" Fleur, and I'm a big and tall young black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Hull, Quebec. I'm an accounting student at the Hull campus of the University of Quebec, and lately, life has been throwing a lot of hurdles my way. No bed of roses, that's for damn sure. Might as well tell you about it. I hear that confession is good for the soul. I was born in the City of Cap-Haitien, northern Haiti, and raised in Quebec. My parents Louis and Marie Jeanne Fleur moved to Quebec from the island of Haiti in the 1990s. We've been living here ever since. I recently converted to Islam, which stunned my Haitian family since I was raised Christian. Folks, God is not a white man. Also, the real Jesus Christ was a middle-eastern Jewish man, not the Aryan that European art and propaganda made him out to be. Christianity has been white-washed, and honestly, it's weakened the black community. I meet a lot of black folks who want to fight for their rights and defy white racism. How can you fight white racism when you kneel before the white male image in your churches? Sounds counter productive if you ask me. I became interested in Islam after meeting some Somali guys at school. One of them, a tall and skinny graduate student named Abdirahman, took a liking to me and we became friends. Abdirahman taught me about Islam, and about myself. Look, I am not deluding myself. I know about Arab racism and how black folks, including Muslims, are treated in places like the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and Qatar. I know that even though there's supposed to be racial equality in Islam, lots of those same Arab men who marry African women would never let their Arab sisters marry African men. Double standard if you ask me but that's cultural racism rather than Islam. There is a big difference between Islam as a religion and Arab culture. It's hard to separate the two at times but Islam is for men and women of all colors, and not just Arabs. The Arabs might be racists but the Prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him, respected Africans who came over to Islam, and considered them his equals before Allah, the one true God. That's true Islam. Hope my explanation was sufficient. The more I learned about the Islamic faith, the more fascinated I became. You see, in the Haitian church where I was raised, I always found it odd that God was considered an old white man in the sky while the Devil was a black guy with horns, a furry body and cloven hooves. What the hell? Good is considered white and black is considered evil. As a black man, that stung me to the depths of my soul. Christianity wasn't for me. My fellow Haitians, sons and daughters of Africans who were the first to overthrow white oppression, continue to be mentally enslaved. Every weekend they bow down before the white male image. What Europeans told them God is. Doesn't make sense to me. Also, I've met middle-eastern Jews from places like Morocco and Syria. Those guys look like Arabs. Jesus Christ probably looked like them. He wasn't a white guy. Europeans hijacked and white-washed Christianity and used it to mentally enslave black folks. In Islam, no race is elevated above the others. It is true that the Prophet Mohammed came from the Arab world, and the Koran was first written in Arabic but the Word of God says that men of all races are equal in Islam. An Arab guy isn't better than an African guy or better than a white guy. All Muslims regardless of color are equal. Of course, there's a lot of racist dudes found in predominantly Muslim parts of the Old World like Bosnia, Saudi Arabia, Kosovo, Kuwait and Chechnya, but they're wrong. Dead wrong. The holy book itself repudiates racism. Read it and weep. In Christianity, the white race is exalted while all others are kept down. God is a white man. Jesus Christ is a blond-haired and blue-eyed Aryan. In every movie shown about the life of Christ, they use white actors to portray him instead of a brown-skinned, dark-haired middle-easterner. I think Europeans would reject Christianity wholesale if the Savior, as they call Jesus Christ, was revealed to be someone who doesn't look like them. The white man can keep his religion. My people have suffered from it long enough. As a Haitian-Canadian Muslim man, and a proud and strong brother, I only bow down before Allah, the one true God. Allah is not a white guy. Allah is not Aryan. Allah is not male or female, pale or dark, old or young. God is eternal, everlasting and all-powerful, and He is not a material being. As a Muslim, I acknowledge the oneness of God, and follow the teachings of our Prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him. I bow down before God, whom we Muslims call Allah, not before Arab culture, or anything man-made. Now, as much as I love my new Islamic faith, I find many of the cultural mores woven into it to be ridiculous. Women in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia can't drive or leave the house without a male chaperone. Women in the predominantly Muslim nation of Turkey can be police officers, airplane pilots, soldiers and politicians. See the vast difference? Culture is important, folks. A Turkish policewoman and a Saudi Arabian housewife are both Muslims. Same Islamic faith but vastly different cultures. I'm a Muslim man but I'm not an Arab. I love dogs. They're man's best friends. I have Christian friends and Jewish friends. I have no problem wishing you a wonderful Christmas or a happy Hanukkah. God is simply limitless, and we should all bow before His greatness. Oh, and just in case you're wondering, I don't hate the State of Israel. I pray for peace between Palestinian Arabs and Israeli Jews. I don't hate gay people. I don't go around telling women what to wear. I don't believe in female genital mutilation. Hell, I don't believe in circumcision, period. I am a Sunni Muslim but I don't go around hassling Muslims from other sects. Leave the Shiites alone. I simply pray to Allah and live my life. I am focusing on my accounting studies at the University of Quebec, and life has been lonely for me lately. A while ago, shortly before I began my journey into Islam, this tall and beautiful Haitian sister named Esther Jean, whom I liked, dumped me out of the blue. The gal wouldn't return my calls. Apparently, I wasn't a good enough Christian man for her. Simply because I dared question our Pastor's habit of displaying a picture of an Aryan-looking Jesus on the big screen during our church ceremonies. Folks, I loved Jesus when I was a Christian and now that I am Muslim, I continue to love him. All Muslims love Jesus. We simply reject the lies told about him. The lie that irks me the most? The myth of Aryan-looking Jesus. Please, go to the Middle East and visit any country. From Morocco to Palestine, from Saudi Arabia to Syria. See for yourself. There's a real shortage of Thor-looking dudes down there. Plenty of brown-hued, black-hued and bronze-skinned people, though. As a Middle-Eastern Jew, Jesus lived and preached among such people. He wouldn't hate us people of color the way Aryans living in North America and Europe instinctively seem to hate us. The Europeans can have their Aryan-looking Jesus. I love and respect Isa Al Masih, the Arabic name for Jesus Christ. Thank you very much. Yeah, as you can see, my evolving beliefs about God put me at odds with the Haitian church, and with Esther Jean and our Pastor. I was given the cold shoulder for questioning the Eurocentric ways of the Black church. I stopped going, and eventually got the nerve to ask my Muslim friends for a Koran. I started reading it, discovered many truths, and now, I am Muslim. I am still a Haitian man. Haitian War of Independence heroes like Jean Jacques Dessalines and Toussaint Louverture are still my heroes. I'd be lying if I say I don't miss the Haitian church. I miss my old friends. I don't miss watching them bowing before the white male image. That I will never miss. I am glad to be a Muslim. Still, I feel lonely. My Haitian family all but shunned me. I feel all alone in the world. I work at Wal-Mart as overnight security to pay the bills. I don't meet a lot of people. I felt doomed to everlasting loneliness, until I met Manal Ali, the tall and beautiful Somali Muslim sister who changed everything. Insha'Allah, this woman rocks my world. I met her at school and sparks flew between us. Manal and I are now dating. Wish us luck!