Bisexual Muslim Guys in Ottawa

The life of a bisexual man is seldom easy or simple, but mine is more complicated than most. The name is Suleiman Mehdi. I was born in the City of Casablanca, Morocco, to a Moroccan father and Somali mother. Growing up a biracial man in one of the Muslim world's most beautiful and famous cities wasn't easy. Even though Moroccan society is fairly tolerant and open-minded compared to other Arabian and North African nations, there's still a lot of prejudice against the black minority living within the country's borders.

My father, Omar Mehdi, often told me about his family's staunch opposition when he fell in love with my mother Fowziyah Ahmed. Arabs, North Africans and Persians have a long and complex history with their African neighbors. In the old days, an African king from Nubia ( present-day Sudan ) conquered the land of Egypt and his family ruled both realms for generations. In the pre-Islamic Arab world, wars between Africans and Arabs were pretty common. The only Arabian country with a history of peace and respect with its African neighbor is Yemen. Yemenis and Somalis seem to have had peaceful relations for centuries. They're the exception rather than the rule. For the most part, Arabs seem to have nothing but hate and disdain for all things black.

Even in Morocco, one of the most racially diverse nations in the Muslim world, the anti-black sentiment was felt daily. My mother told me how she would get scornful looks from Moroccan women when out with my father in their younger days. Arab men have a long history of sexual relations with African women, but these liaisons are usually purely sexual. It's a rare Arab man who will take an African woman as wife. To the best of my knowledge, most Arab men will not let their daughters marry African men. Like many men from other races around the world, Arab guys have a lot of hatred and disdain for the African male. As the mixed-race son of a wealthy and powerful North African father and Black mother, they saw me as a threat as I walked through the streets of Casablanca and Marrakesh.

I guess that's part of the reason why I was most anxious to leave. I left Cadi Ayyad University in Marrakesh after just one year, opting to study abroad instead. That's how I ended up at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'd met a few Canadians while in Marrakesh and grown fascinated by them and their culture. I guess that's why I opted to study in Canada. Carleton totally blew all my expectations, and I sort of fell in love with this beautiful school full of fascinating people from various ethnic and national backgrounds. I saw hijab-wearing gals from Arabian and African nations in the hallways as well as blonde-haired and blue-eyed European gals in tank tops and short skirts. Fascinating, this school's diversity!

As a six-foot-three, burly young man with light brown skin, curly black hair and light bronze eyes, I tend to attract attention wherever I go. I'm still a minority in Canada, after all. Nevertheless, I set out to explore the Capital of Canada. Not long after I moved to Ottawa, I began going to bars and clubs, and meeting those fascinating western ladies that I had heard so much about. The thing about foreign-born Muslim men is that many of us lust after western women and their liberal, free-spirited attitude toward all things sexual and curse them in the same breath. I've never been like that because, well, I am different from the others.

Ever since I could remember, I've felt attracted to both women and men. Of course, I kept this to myself. Like a good Muslim I strove for sexual purity. The Koran is very strict when it comes to homosexuality, bisexuality, lesbianism and things of that nature. Same-sex sexual contact is strictly forbidden. Many people from my faith believe that sexual perversion is Iblis ( the chief evil spirit in the Islamic faith ) way of testing us and luring us away from the love of God. As a Muslim I felt terrible for having these urges in the first place.

There was a time when I tried to pray them away, actually. Long have I denied my sexual urges. My first heterosexual experience was with a young Arab gal named Amal Yusuf whom I met at the university in Marrakesh. I'd been fooling around with other guys in my neighborhood, notably my tall, muscular and well-endowed Somali buddy Ibrahim Mohammed, for ages. Now, the funny thing about Islamic societies is that a man caught with another man's wife or daughter faces more punishment than a man caught with another man. If you're caught doing homosexual acts you may get lashes in public or end up in jail for a few days. If they catch you with another guy's wife, you and the lady in question could end up beheaded. It happened to a Saudi princess a long time ago. There's even a documentary about it called Death of a Princess.

Amal and I were taking a lot of risks by getting involved, especially since her father Ali Yusuf promised her hand in marriage to a wealthy Algerian businessman named Fahad Loudahi. We shared some passionate moments together, Amal and I. Honestly, I miss that slender, sexy body and nice, round butt of hers. Moroccan gals are something else. Amal wasn't pure North African, though, her mother is originally from Lebanon, making her part Arab. The combination made for a lovely gal with bronze skin, curly black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. Hmmm. I get hard just thinking about those lovely lips of hers wrapped around my dick. Arab girls give killer head, man. Never let anyone tell you different.

When I began exploring the night life in Ottawa, I met a lovely young woman named Alexandra Barrett. Tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. It's often been said that Muslim men have a fetish for blonde girls and I was definitely no different. Alexandra is originally from Surrey, England, and she's studying chemistry at the University of Ottawa. We ended up going home together a mere three hours after we met at the Living Room Night Club in downtown Ottawa. Just caught a cab back to my residence at Carleton, and then we sucked and fucked the night away. I had a great time fucking Alexandra. This lovely blonde darling was fun in bed.

We lay on my bed, and I delighted her by spreading her shapely thighs and giving her blonde bush a good licking. I like eating pussy. No two women taste or smell alike. It's a lot of fun, provided the gal in question is relaxed and of course, hygienic. Do NOT go down on a woman who hasn't washed her cunt in more than twenty four hours. Depending on the woman, you might get dizzy or pass out from the intoxicating stench. Sorry ladies, but I keep it real, as they say. Anyhow, back to Alexandra. After licking her pussy, I put her on all fours, spanked her cute butt and slammed my dick into her cunt while pulling her lovely blonde hair. I sometimes get rough with girls in bed, some like it and some don't. I guess it's a bit of an acquired taste.

The next morning, Alexandra Barrett left my dorm and we never saw each other again. So far I'd been with Arab girls and white girls. The next woman I took to bed was a Jamaican escort I found in the back pages of the Ottawa Sun newspaper. Candy is what this exotic island delight called herself. Candy and I had a wonderful time on a Friday night when I was feeling kind of blue. I just decided to call up an escort for some fun the way some of my fellow students in residence called up Chinese or pizza delivery people. The whole thing cost me two hundred dollars and we had a lot of fun for about an hour. Whenever I tell my western friends that there are prostitutes in the Muslim world, they're shocked. They really shouldn't be. Prostitution is the world's oldest profession after all and men pay women to have sex with them in every country, including Saudi Arabia. Lots of foreign men visiting Saudi Arabia avail themselves of the local prostitutes. For the most part these ladies are from foreign countries such as Ethiopia, the Philippines, Somalia, India, or in some cases poorer Arab nations such as Yemen.

Anyhow, back to Candy and I, shall we? I had a lot of fun with the lovely Candy. This five-foot-eleven, curvy and dark-skinned Jamaican gal with the long, neatly braided hair, big tits and thick, round ass proved to be delightful in the bedroom. I greeted her at the front door of my residence, then discretely escorted her, an ironic turn of phrase, to my room. Once there, we got right down to business. I laid on the bed, and Candy sucked my dick while massaging my big hairy balls like a pro. When I came, she drank up all of my seed, which surprised me. I'm nasty like that, she said with a wink. Good to know, I smiled at her.

Candy was freaky in the bedroom, but she absolutely refused to kiss me or let me lick her pussy. I don't do those things, she insisted, and I nodded. A woman who won't let you kiss her or go down on her. Hmmm. What do you allow? I asked Candy earnestly. I do anal, she said, matter-of-factly. I smiled at that. Good to know, I said. That night was one of revelations for me. I had never done anal sex with a woman before Candy, and I found it to be a very pleasurable experience. Candy lay on the bed, legs in the air, flat on her back, staring at me invitingly as I put on a condom. Once I had her properly lubricated I eased my dick into her asshole. Fucking a woman in the ass proved to be absolutely delightful.

I'd fucked ( and gotten fucked by ) quite a few guys back home. My old Somali buddy Ibrahim and I used to fool around whenever we had some privacy. Sometimes I wonder if his wife Fatima had any idea that he swung both ways. He used to bend me over and stuff me like a thanksgiving turkey. I absolutely loved the feel of his thick ebony cock in my asshole. Ibrahim would suck me good and proper before fucking me, of course. He was mostly top, only allowing me to play with his ass occasionally. Nevertheless, I learned to enjoy the feel of a tight male ass around my dick. Fucking Candy, a black woman, up the ass proved to be different. You would have to ask a doctor or someone along those lines about the differences between male asses and female buttocks. I did love the feel of Candy's tight asshole around my dick, though. The feel of her meaty buttocks pressing against my groin as I fucked her in the ass was absolutely pleasurable. This is the first time I've fucked a woman in the ass but I found her ass more fun to fuck than a man's. Maybe because it has more meat on it or something. Something to think about, that's for sure.

Raising Candy's thick ebony legs in the air, I slid two fingers into her wet cunt and brought them to my lips while ramming my dick into her butt hole. The sexy Jamaican hooker shot me a weird look but said nothing. Hey, Candy said I couldn't lick her pussy or kiss her. She never said anything about fingering or what I call the taste test, alright? She continued moaning softly as I continued fucking her ass until I got my nut, then I went soft and pulled out. A lot of guys I've fucked in the ass haven't been too clean because us gay and bisexual young men often have spontaneous sex, grabbing condoms and lube whenever we have any privacy. Candy's ass was clean, man. When I pulled my dick out of her butt hole, the condom was clean. Sweet ass you got there, I told her. Thank you, she said evenly.

Afterwards, Candy put her clothes back on, and I walked her downstairs. I walked her to the university center, then I put her in a cab and paid the fare. Get home safe, I told her, then waved her goodbye. I believe in paying for good service and Candy's performance that night was definitely satisfactory. I lay on my bed that night feeling really good. I guess it's true what some of my western friends say. Sometimes it's better to order takeout instead of going out to eat. I don't mind as long as I end up with something tasty, and that night I definitely did.

Casual fun with escorts and chicks in night clubs were fun, but I soon found myself longing for more. Women think that men only want sex. Truth be told, even though I had bed partners on the regular, I had no one to go to movies and restaurants with. I saw guys walking around malls with pretty girls, holding hands and kissing, and I felt...envious. I was in that frame of mind when I met Aida Hokeika, a lovely Lebanese Christian woman I met inside the university center one Friday morning. The first time I laid eyes on the short-haired, tattooed young woman with light bronze skin, dark eyes and overall tomboyish demeanor, I thought to myself 'hello dyke'.

I'd seen a lot of Arabs, both Christian and Muslim, in metropolitan Ottawa. Lots of Arab-Canadian Christians, mostly Lebanese, Syrians and Egyptians, lived in the east end. They have a big church there, I believe. Still, I like to think of us North Africans, Arabs and Persians as a conservative people, in spite of our cultural and linguistic differences. To see an Arab gal, even a Christian, walking around campus dressed the way Aida Hokeika was, honestly made me shake my head. The gal wore a sleeveless T-shirt featuring Bob Marley, studded black leather pants and boots. And her spiky hair was wickedly short, like a man's. I honestly thought she was a lesbian.

Looking me in the eye, Aida Hokeika asked me for a donation for hurricane relief efforts in the Philippines. I am glad to help, I replied to her in Arabic as I dropped a toonie in her box. Aida's eyes flashed when I spoke to her in Arabic, and she hesitated. Thank you, she replied in the same language. I smiled, nodded and walked away. The next time I ran into Aida, she was in the library, working on a paper about homophobia in Arab/Muslim communities. I approached her, since that's what I do to every pretty gal I see without male company in a public place. Just to talk I asked her what she was working on, and man did we end up talking a LOT that night!

As the son of a North African father and Somali mother, I've endured my share of prejudice. I've already told you about the hatred that North Africans, Persians and Arabs have for their black neighbors. Still, the plight of gays and lesbians in Muslim societies, while not as bad as anti-black racism, is pretty bad. Aida and I talked quite a bit about that, and along the way, we learned a bit about each other. Aida told me she was born in the City of Edmonton, Alberta, to Lebanese immigrant parents. Her folks, Anthony and Augusta Hokeika moved to Canada from their hometown of Faraya, Lebanon in the 1980s. They were fleeing the aftershocks of the Lebanese Civil War, which pitted the Christians against the Muslims in the Middle East's most religiously diverse nation. Aida and her brothers, Michael and Lucas, were born shortly after.

It was surprisingly easy for me to talk to Aida. As a rule, I don't open up to women. They say they want the truth but once you tell it to them they use it against you. Yet there was something about her which I found compelling. Are you bisexual? Aida asked me after we'd been talking about Muslim bisexuality for more than an hour. Yes I am, I said, after a brief hesitation. Aida smiled, and nodded. Same here, she said with a grin. We shook hands, and that was that. For the first time in my life, I was out to someone. After this memorable meeting Aida and I became friends. My whole life all my friends had been male. Close friendships between members of the opposite sex aren't encouraged in the Islamic world, for fear of even the appearance of impropriety.

Aida and I became inseparable, hanging out both on campus and off. As a result of our friendship, I now know a lot more about Arab Christians, especially the Maronites of Lebanon, than I used to. I even visited Aida's church in the east end of Ottawa, and I found it very friendly and welcoming. Aida keeps inviting me to LGBT meetings happening around town, and I keep putting it off because I honestly don't think they're my kind of place. Besides, I am a bisexual man and from what I'm told, the gays aren't friendly to people like me.

The way I figure it, LGBT clubs are full of effeminate guys, drag queens, masculine chicks and other weirdoes and that's totally not my crowd. I'm a normal guy who likes normal stuff like sports and action movies, and I find both sexes attractive. Queers like to tell bisexual people, especially bisexual men that they're confused and that's not cool with me. Chicks with big butts give me boners, and so do macho guys. I'm not confused about shit! I can't decorate houses or give fashion tips or any of the usual gay crap. Most of my friends are straight guys and that's fine by me. If I had to walk around with women listening to them talk about their boyfriends I'd shoot myself in the head. I don't like Barbara Streisand or Lady Gaga or Cher or any of the usual fag icons.

I like rap and hip hop, along with outspoken black celebrities like Lebron James, Dave Chappelle, Floyd Mayweather, Alicia Keys and Mike Tyson. I like gangsta rap, not frigging musicals or cooking shows! I'll pick the NBA finals over a Lady Gaga concert any day of the bloody week. I don't think I'd fit in with the overly cheerful people I see at the pride parades. Besides, I'm still a Muslim and we don't get down like that. All in due time, Aida told me one night after we'd been arguing about my reluctance to embrace queer causes. It's my life, I told her, and walked away. I don't like her pressuring me and if she keeps doing it I won't chill with her anymore. One good thing has come out of all this, though. I can now admit to myself that I am a bisexual man and a Muslim, and I'm okay with both halves of my identity. My sexual orientation matters to me, as does my religion. In the end, only Allah can judge me, not ordinary mortals who think they know anything. Peace be upon you, dear reader.