Bisexual Jamaican Muslim Man

Amateur

“Ah, the ups and downs of a bisexual black man’s life,” Nasser Al-Harith said to himself as he got up and took one last look at his now ex-girlfriend Karma Armstrong. The six-foot-tall, curvaceous young Jamaican woman sat there, her eyes folded, a defiant look in her soulful brown eyes. Nasser sighed, cursing himself for thinking that a die-hard homophobe and religious nut like Karma could have accepted him for who and what he was….

“I’m a Jamaican woman, I can’t share my bed with no batty man,” Karma said bitterly, and her eyes blazed with anger. Nasser bit back a reply, and shrugged, then walked away. So much for honesty as the best policy, eh? In quick, easy strides, Nasser reached the escalators and headed for the lower level of the Bayshore Mall. All around him, people were shopping, and talking, and having a good time. My world just ended but it’s just another day in the City of Ottawa, he thought bitterly.

Moving to the capital region of Canada from his hometown of Ocho Rios, Jamaica, seven years ago hadn’t been easy. In those days, Nasser Al-Harith still went by his original name, Nathaniel Hawkins. Nasser remembered those heady, bright days, before life threw a double whammy at him. Firstly, he became aware of his bisexuality. Secondly, a spiritual awakening led him to leave his Roman Catholic faith for Islam, and to legally change his name to reflect his new identity as a Muslim.

Twenty years old at the time, he came to Ottawa to study civil engineering at Carleton University. Fast forward a few years, he graduated from his program with honors, and now did contract work for Von Engineering. In fact, he was taking care of things for them at Place De La Cite. These days, Nasser Al-Harith had a good job, and lived in a rented townhouse in the Jockvale area of Barrhaven, Ontario. Still, why have the perks and trappings of success if there was no one to share them with?

For the longest time, Nasser thought that someone might be Karma Armstrong. He met the six-foot-tall, curvaceous, gorgeously dark-skinned, dreadlocked sister with the thick ass while shopping for a new suit at the Saint Laurent Mall. As it turns out, Karma was there to buy a suit for her brother Lawrence, who was graduating from Algonquin College. From the moment Nasser first laid eyes on Karma, he knew she was special…

“I got a good feeling about you,” Nasser said to a smiling Karma, after she gave him her digits. One thing led to another, and after coffee dates, movie dates, restaurants and long walks around shopping centers, Nasser and Karma officially became a couple. Nasser fell in love with Karma, the fearless Jamaican sister with the sassy mouth, and she appeared to be feeling the same way about him. Everything seemed to be falling into place…

“You are something else, my brotha,” Karma said to Nasser, the first time they made love. Nasser took her back to his place, a cozy apartment in the South Keys Plaza area, and Karma reminded him, in the most pleasant way possible, why black women from the island of Jamaica are uniquely sensual. Nasser had trouble catching his breath after the sexual whammy Karma laid on him…

“Good to know,” Nasser replied, and he kissed Karma’s full, lovely lips, then took another look at her. The Afro-Caribbean goddess that lay in his arms was beyond sexy, with her full, lovely breasts, her curvy body, those thick thighs of hers, and that big round booty that he could probably rest a breakfast table on. Seriously, Karma’s ass was that big, and Nasser couldn’t get enough of it…

“Eat this ass, big man,” Karma said as she got on all fours, and shook her big beautiful dark ass at him. Nasser grinned, and then did as he was told. Spreading Karma’s thick ass cheeks wide open, he began eating her ass, loving the way it smelled and tasted. At the same time, Nasser fingered Karma’s pussy, causing her to moan in pleasure. Nothing Nasser loved more than the black female form, and Karma’s sinfully sexy and very voluptuous body was simply to die for…

“I can do this all day, sexy lady,” Nasser paused to say, smacking Karma’s ass as he resumed eating her out. Afterwards, he rolled a condom on his long and thick, dark dick and eased it into Karma’s pussy. Gripping her long dreads, Nasser yanked Karma’s head back and slapped her thick ass while slamming his dick into her pussy. He made her scream as he totally worked her ass over, and Karma cried out his name like a town crier making an official proclamation…

“You can really beat that pussy up, sexy man,” Karma said, much later, as she lay against Nasser. Her gorgeous body was glistening with sweat, and she looked, smelled and tasted absolutely wonderful. Nasser licked beads of sweat off of Karma’s forehead and then kissed her. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do for this woman, and he damn well knew it. Nasser loved Karma, and she seemed to love him. In those days, Nasser honestly thought that would be enough…

Although Nasser was well aware of his sexual attraction to Bycasino both men and women, he stayed faithful to Karma. Walking around Ottawa with her, holding her hand as they went everywhere together, Nasser knew that he had a special woman in his life. And Karma seemed to appreciate him too. The foxy Jamaican gal often lamented about all the good-looking brothers with college degrees who were shacking up with white women left and right.

“You’re one hell of a catch, Nasser, a good brother who still loves the sisters,” Karma said to Nasser one night, during their trip to Montreal on Valentine’s Day. Nasser looked at Karma and lovingly kissed her. He was thankful to have such an amazing woman in his life. They stayed at the Hyatt Regency hotel in downtown Montreal, and for the next couple of days, they shopped, ate fine food, watched movies, walked all over la belle province and made love…everywhere.

“How could it end up like this?” Nasser said to himself, as he reached the parking lot and got behind the wheels of his bright red, 2016 Rav4. As he began the long trek back to Barrhaven, Ontario, Nasser tried to forget Karma, but couldn’t. So much for the future he had planned for the two of them. Karma was the woman Nasser saw himself having a family and growing old with. Oh, well. Fate had other plans, apparently…

A few days later, Nasser went to the monthly meeting of the Coming Out As Bisexual Support Group, which met at a certain locale in the By Ward Market. That afternoon, Nasser found the place a bit more packed than usual. The core of the group was made up of about eleven guys and four or five women. Nasser was usually the only black person, and the only other minorities were an Asian woman, and a young Latino guy.

“As Salaam Alaikum, brother, is this the meeting hall?” came a feminine, startling the hell out of Nasser as he exited the men’s washroom. The big and tall Jamaican man blinked in surprise as he found himself looking at a tall, curvy young Middle-Eastern woman clad in a long dark dress and Hijab. As a resident of Ottawa and active member of the local Muslim community, Nasser Al-Harith had certainly seen his share of Hijab-wearing Muslim women. He simply wasn’t expecting one…here.

“Walaikum Salaam, sister, yes it is,” Nasser replied politely, and the young Muslim woman nodded and smiled. They entered the hall together, and Nasser was surprised to see about twenty five to thirty people in there, already seated. There was one person standing at the podium, a short-haired, tattooed, kind of masculine white woman whom Nasser recognized as Rachel, a fairly active member of the C.O.A.B.S.G.

“It’s even harder to be bisexual when you’re a butch woman, lesbians feel especially betrayed when I tell them that I also like guys, and they make assumptions about me based on my appearance,” Rachel said, speaking passionately, and Nasser nodded in agreement. As did pretty much everyone in the meeting hall. Much to his surprise, the young Muslim woman sat next to him, and listened attentively as Rachel talked about the hardships she experienced as a bisexual butch woman in LGBT circles.

Nasser glimpsed at the young Muslim woman, who looked nervous, and he smiled reassuringly at her. He thought of his first meeting, a couple of months ago, and remembered how nervous he’d been. For starters, on that fateful day, Nasser was one of only two minorities there. The other minority was a Somali guy named Yassin Ismail, who turned out to be way more trouble than he was worth…

“Nice to see another brother in here,” Yassin said with a smile as he sat next to a very nervous Nasser. At the time, Nasser was pleasantly surprised to see another Muslim, and a fellow black man, at the Coming Out As Bisexual Support Group. The two men went for drinks afterwards, and after many rounds at the Honest Lawyer bar, Nasser thought it would be a good idea to go ‘chill’ at Yassin’s place. Big mistake…

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Nasser said nervously, as he stood naked in front of Yassin. The tall, handsome Somali dude grinned, and then walked up to Nasser and kissed him. Just like that, they began getting busy in the living room of Yassin’s apartment. Yassin sat Nasser down on his couch, and then went to work on him. He took care of Nasser better than the Jamaican Muslim dude expected…

“I’ll help you catch up,” Yassin said, and he got on his knees and grabbed Nasser’s long and thick, dark dick. As Nasser looked on, Yassin began sucking his dick, slowly and gently at first, then with gusto. Nasser sighed happily as Yassin sucked him off. While going down on Nasser, Yassin fingered his ass, and instead of protesting or acting funny, Nasser actually smiled. Bottom dude, Yassin thought with a smirk as he continued sucking Nasser’s big ole Jamaican dick…

“My turn,” Nasser said, smiling nervously, and he took Yassin’s long and thick Somali dick and stroked it, then began sucking on it. Yassin grinned as Nasser sucked him off. The Jamaican Bycasino giriş Muslim dude was clearly out of practice, but Yassin didn’t mind too much. What Yassin wanted most of all was a piece of Nasser Al-Harith’s cute Jamaican ass. Yassin didn’t discriminate based on race, ethnicity or gender, but he liked them Caribbean guys…

An avowed bisexual, Yassin had a lot of conquests all over the City of Ottawa. From the outwardly pious and chaste Somali gals whom he fucked when their husbands were at work to the curious white chicks he picked up at malls and coffee shops, and the occasional sexually experimental Haitian guys and Trinidadian guys, Yassin liked all kinds of booty. Still, his favorite piece of ass belonged to those oh-so straight Jamaican dudes…

“Hmm, I like Jamaican ass, male and female,” Yassin said with a smirk as he put Nasser on all fours, and admired his thick ass. After lubricating Nasser’s ass, Yassin put on a condom and pressed his hard dick against the Jamaican Muslim brother’s backdoor. With a swift thrust, Yassin penetrated Nasser’s ass, and the big and tall Jamaican Muslim dude bucked wildly and cried out. Yassin laughed and gripped Nasser’s hips as he pushed his dick further into his ass. Mr. Jamaica hadn’t felt anything yet…

“Oh yes, fuck me,” Nasser cried out, and Yassin drilled his dick into the big Jamaican dude’s ass. Flipping Nasser on his back and raising his legs in the air, Yassin slammed his dick into Nasser’s tight asshole. While they were at the bar, Nasser told Yassin that he’d been having problems with his girlfriend who left him over his bisexuality, and Yassin wanted to send him back to his lady with a sore butt hole. And so he did. Yassin rammed his dick up Nasser’s butt and didn’t let up until Mr. Jamaica actually begged for mercy…

“I’m Samira Malekzadeh, what’s your name, brother?” came a voice, and Nasser Al-Harith blinked in surprise, snatched out of his lustful trip down memory lane. The young Muslim woman seated next to him bumped him with her elbow, and Nasser looked at her. She smiled at him, and after remembering where he was, he smiled at her in a way he hoped was pleasant, and answered her missive.

“Good to meet you, sister, I’m Nasser Al-Harith, this is your first time here, I take it?” Nasser replied, and the young woman nodded enthusiastically. Nasser smiled at her politely. After Rachel the butch lady finished speaking, the coordinator asked if anyone had something to share. When no one else volunteered, Nasser was about to rise, but someone beat him to it.

“Wish me luck,” Samira said, and Nasser almost gasped as the young Muslim woman rose, and then made her way to the front. All eyes were on her, the Hijab-wearing gal who looked out of place in this room full of people from walks of life. Nasser watched as Samira fearlessly walked to the podium, nodded gracefully at the coordinators and then stood, facing everyone.

“Salaam, thanks for having me among you, I’m Samira, and I’m originally from the City of Tabriz, in Iran, and today, finally, I’m okay with saying that I love both women and men,” the young Muslim woman said enthusiastically, and Nasser looked on, amazed, as she began sharing her story with the assembly. Like everyone else, Nasser was riveted by her tale…

“I used to live in Montreal and I just moved to Ottawa to continue with university studies and get away from my parents, they disowned me for being who and what I am, but I don’t care, I’ve got to be me,” Samira said bravely, and Nasser shook his head. The thought of telling his conservative, church-going Jamaican parents that he was bisexual filled him with dread. They’d already stopped talking to him after he converted to Islam…

“Brave young woman,” Nasser said to himself. Like everyone else, he stood up and clapped when Samira finished with her tale. Afterwards, the young Iranian woman returned to her seat. Nasser looked at her admiringly. Samira smiled at him and shrugged, as if to say that what she’d just done was no big deal. The meeting continued, and there were several other speakers, then the meeting ended and people began filing out…

“You’re a unique woman, Sister Samira, I’m glad I met you,” Nasser said, and Samira nodded graciously. Not knowing what else to say, Nasser took a business card out of his wallet and handed it to her. The young Iranian smiled and looked it over, raised her eyebrows and then pocketed it. Nasser sighed, wanting to say something, for he had lots of questions for Samira, but he didn’t know how to proceed…

“Glad I met you too, brother Nasser, thanks for the card, I say us bisexual Muslims got to stick together,” Samira said slyly, and then she made a fist, and held it before him. Nasser blinked in surprise, and then smiled and gently pressed his fist against hers. The young woman grinned, and then gathered her belongings and wished him a good evening, then she walked away. Nasser stood up and watched Samira walk away, mesmerized. Fearless Bycasino deneme bonusu bisexual Hijabi with a big booty, will wonders never cease?

A couple of days later, Nasser was walking around Place De La Cite, inspecting the work done by the construction workers, and he was surprised when his phone buzzed. He seldom got any calls these days. A lot of his friends had been deserting him, thanks largely to his ex-girlfriend Karma vengefully telling his friends and family that he was a switch-hitter. Instead of defending himself, Nasser deactivated his Twitter and Facebook pages, and kept silent…

“As Salam Alaikum, Brother Nasser,” came a sultry feminine voice, and Nasser bit his lip, for the voice on the phone sounded familiar, though he couldn’t place it. When he inquired who it was, the lady at the other end sighed, laughed and then he knew. It was indeed Samira. Nasser grinned, pleasantly surprised to hear from the young Iranian woman. After that meeting at the C.O.AB.S.G. he wasn’t sure he’d hear from her…

“Walaikum Salaam, Samira, good to hear from you,” Nasser said as he began to pace back and forth in the building foyer. CRA workers and contractors going about their day looked at him as they walked by. Clad in a blue silk shirt, black silk pants, black steel-toe boots, his stylish dreads hidden by a white helmet, Nasser knew he looked like a cross between a professional and a day laborer. The work ID hanging on a lanyard around his neck seemingly mystified the ‘urban gentry’ working at the downtown core of Ottawa. And he didn’t care a bit…

“Likewise, Nasser, I am feeling really good today, I got accepted as a nursing student at the University of Ottawa, and I thought I’d call you, Mr. Intriguing,” Samira said cheerfully, and Nasser chuckled softly. First, he congratulated the young woman on her latest accomplishment, and then he hesitated. Samira was cute, and unique, and he definitely wanted to see her again. The question is, how does he swing it?

“Congrats again, Samira, we definitely need more nurses in this world, I say this as a man from a Third World nation where we need more health care professionals, say, you must let me buy you coffee to celebrate,” Nasser said, aware of his transparent attempt at flirtation. Samira fell silent, and he held his breath. Nasser silently damned himself for his forwardness. Fuck it, he just met this woman. Was he moving too damn fast?

“Coffee would be fine, how about the Starbucks on Metcalfe? I spend a lot of time at the library right around the corner,” Samira replied hopefully, and Nasser barely stopped himself from jumping for joy. Playing it cool, he agreed with her and they made plans to meet for coffee the very next day. The Starbucks was within walking distance of Place De La Cite, and Nasser was a regular there. In fact, he’d gone there last week with Mr. Fox, one of the co-founders of Von Engineering…

“Sounds good, Samira, see you there, sister,” Nasser replied, and Samira wished him a good day and then hung up. Nasser was all smiles as he headed for the elevators. CRA workers going to and fro looked at him, flashing those fake smiles that he’d come to expect from their ilk. Nasser ignored them, for today, he was feeling quite good about himself.

The CRA workers stares were indeed nothing new. The black male presence always made bozos feel insecure. Sure, Nasser had his civil engineering degree from Carleton University, and he was a new Canadian citizen, having taken his oath a couple of years ago, but these fake-smiling, passive-aggressive worker drones operating in downtown Ottawa would never see him as an equal….

“You look lovely,” Nasser said as he sat across from Samira, at a table at the back of Starbucks, and the young Iranian woman nodded graciously. Clad in a black leather jacket over a purple turtleneck shirt, black leather pants and black cowboy boots, her dark hair tucked away under an ebony Hijab, Samira looked at once stylish, pious and sexy. Nasser nodded appreciatively…

“Shukran, thank you brother, don’t make me blush,” Samira replied with a smile. Nasser grinned, and sipped his coffee. The young woman sitting across from him was ravishing, but he soon found out there was much more to her than meets the eye. As Samira told him about her life in Tabriz, Iran, and Montreal, Quebec, it dawned on Nasser that he was having a date with a unicorn. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist. A naughty Hijabi…

“When did you know you were bisexual?” Samira asked, and Nasser shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Biting his lip, he sighed and then leaned back in his chair. Samira struck him as the sincere, no-nonsense type, and he knew better than to bullshit. For the second time in his life, a woman whom Nasser found enchanting was questioning him about his sexual identity…

“Well, I’ve always known I liked both guys and gals, I admire tennis legend Serena Williams big booty and NBA legend Lebron James’s abs,” Nasser said, matter-of-factly, as his eyes bore into Samira’s. The young Iranian woman licked her lips and nodded, then smiled. That surprised Nasser. He remembered the way Karma reacted when he told her that he was bisexual. Even though Nasser never cheated on her, Karma dropped him like yesterday’s news…