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Muslim Girl Loves Christian Boy

Is there anything wrong with a Muslim woman having sex with a Christian man? Absolutely not. If Muslim men can stick their dicks into anything that moves, what a Muslim woman does with her pussy is her own business. Especially since a Muslim woman's pussy is, by law, her own personal property. My name is Mona Farouk, and I approve this message. I don't believe in the gender-biased rules of Islam anymore. I think I'm an Agnostic at this point. Anyone looking at me would see a five-foot-nine, chubby but still sexy young Arab woman with light bronze skin and light brown eyes. I have long, curly Black hair which I love to let flow over my shoulders. I don't hide it under a hijab or a burka like the other brain dead gals of my faith. I was born on February 5, 1989, in the City of Al-Abwa in the Western Coast of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. My family and I lived there until August 17, 1999. That's when we moved to the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. The Capital region of Canada was the place destined to be my home forever.

In the summer of 2004, exactly five years after my family and I first set foot in the Capital of Canada, I became a naturalized citizen of this great nation. A lot of Arabs living in Western countries decry these nations as dens of sin because of all the freedom that women enjoy, the liberal attitude toward sexual relations and different religions, and the social and legal equality between men and women. My father, Mohammed Farouk, is the prototypical Saudi male head of household. Control freak with a capital C. Like every Muslim man worth his salt, he believes himself superior to women and hates both womankind and people who follow any religion other than Islam. I'm ashamed to say that for almost my whole life he controlled me and my mother, constantly berating us simply for being female. In Saudi society, women are worthless. My mother Fatima he hated because she only bore him a daughter, me, and not a son.

He would have gladly taken another wife if he could but the Government of Saudi Arabia sent him to live in Canada to look after their business holdings in that part of North America. Polygamy isn't legal anywhere in the continent of North America. The United States, Canada and Mexico are predominantly Christian nations that don't allow polygamy because it goes against their principles. I never admitted this to myself before I got the courage to leave my parents household, but I am glad to live in a society where women and men are equal. Men in Muslim countries use religion to control us women and treat us like slaves. In North America, this isn't allowed. It irks Saudi males to see female police officers, female firefighters, female athletes and female soldiers in Canada and elsewhere in the Western world. And I can't tell you how happy their discomfort makes me.

Anyway, in September 2008, I enrolled in the Criminology program at Carleton University in the southern bend of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. For the first time in ages I was living away from my parents. I opted to live in a dorm at Carleton University rather than stay in the family home in Orleans. I wanted to be on my own. I wanted to know what freedom tasted like. At Carleton University, I decided to remake myself. I shunned the other Muslim students, Arab or otherwise. Canada prides itself on being a tolerant and welcoming country where multiculturalism is simply the order of the day. Canada should really be careful about what kind of immigrants they allow within their borders. I don't think Canada needs more Muslim immigrants, and I say this as an Arab woman born and raised in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, the heartland of Islam itself.

You see, as a Muslim woman, I understand what most non-Muslims refuse to admit to themselves. Muslim immigrants for the most part refuse to assimilate in Western society. They refuse to blend in and accept the secular government and liberal values that form the basis of society in places like Europe, Australia, New Zealand, America and Canada. Muslim immigrants don't want to assimilate into a non-Muslim society. They want to take it over from within. If Western societies aren't careful, Muslim clerics will come in and convert hordes of impressionable men and women to radical Islam, and spread their faith until they have the numbers necessary to form an army and launch a social and cultural revolution.

If the Muslims succeed in converting even half of a Western country's population to Islam, they'll lead them to rise against their secular and liberal governments, slaughter their countrymen and impose Sharia Law. That's what happened in India. Indian Muslims rose against the government of India, and created their separate realm, the Islamic nation of Pakistan. I think this might happen in Nigeria. For the predominantly Muslim population of northern Nigeria is rising against the predominantly Christian population of southern Nigeria. They'll try to separate from the rest of Nigeria and impose Sharia Law on their realm. That's the big Muslim plan for places like Europe, America, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. They want to brainwash lots of White guys and White women, get them to join radical Islam and wage war against the people of Europe in the name of Islam. White women are especially susceptible to joining Islam, and for the life of me I don't know why.

Oh, snap. I think I do know why so many White women join this religion which they don't really understand. It's all because of their fascination with Muslim men, whom they see as more mysterious than the friendly and respectful men of Western society. Women do love the bad guys, after all. When you first meet them, Muslim men seem nice, friendly and generous. That's how they lure you in. Please don't fall for it. Underneath it all, they're cold, vicious, controlling, woman-hating, anti-Christian, anti-Jewish and deeply treacherous. If this seems alarming to you, please don't dismiss it as the rant of a madwoman. It's simply the awful truth. Muslim males censor themselves around non-Muslims, claiming that theirs is a religion of peace. They even claim to respect women's rights. That's bullshit. Anyone who wants to see how much Muslim men respect women should visit Saudi Arabia, the country of my birth. If you're a woman over there, the whole country will feel like a prison to you. Isn't that wonderful?

Anyhow, where was I? Oh yes. I was telling you about my new life at Carleton University. I remade myself at my new school, and stopped associating with other Muslims. I befriended the kind of people whom my parents definitely wouldn't have approved of. Goths. Atheists. Christians. Gays. Lesbians. Artists. Nihilists. I avoided people from my religion at all costs. Whenever an Arab guy or an Arab chick would approach me, I told them that I was Hispanic. I took enough Spanish in high school to be able to communicate effectively in this beautiful language. Besides, a lot of Hispanic people look like Arabs and vice versa. I am happy to say that I joined the Spanish Heritage Society at Carleton University.

It was something that absolutely changed my life. I made friends with lots of Brazilians, Mexicans, Venezuelans, Guatemalans, etc. They were really cool people. Ninety nine percent of them were Christian. I learned from them the beauty of Christianity. I was amazed at how friendly and welcoming and non-judgmental the Christian students at Carleton University were. Muslims are so judgmental. Judging a woman's character by the length of her skirt, and other insignificant details. Most Christians believed that a person's character or lack thereof resided within their hearts, not their clothes. Someone should tell that to the Muslims! It was at the Spanish Heritage Society that I met a young man who changed my life. Jose Guillermo Pierre, the Dominican-born son of a Haitian father and Hispanic mother. He was an international student at Carleton University, hailing from the beautiful Caribbean.

Black men and Latino/Hispanic men are known to be smooth-talking and seductive. As a biracial of both Black and Hispanic descent, Jose Guillermo Pierre was all that and more. The first time I saw this six-foot-one, lean and athletic brother with the shiny light brown skin, curly black hair and golden brown eyes, he was walking through the Carleton University gym, shirtless. I was heading to the pool, clad in an old gray T-shirt and shorts because I don't like traditional bathing suits. I almost walked into a wall when I saw this ridiculously hot guy with the sexy abs and the really nice ass. I would later run into him at the swimming pool, and he would flirt with me in the water. He asked me my name and I told him. I detected his Spanish accent and we continued the conversation in Spanish.

I learned quite a bit about Jose Guillermo Pierre as we played around in the delicious water of the school swimming pool. I ended up giving him my number, but never told him where I came from. That night, I added him on my Facebook, where I'm known as Mona F. I never told any of my friends from Carleton University that the F in my name stood for Farouk. I didn't want them to know I was an Arab woman from Saudi Arabia. The actions of Muslims in the Western world, from the 9/11 conspiracy to the honor killings that are getting too frequent lately, have made me almost ashamed of being Arab. There are some moderate Muslims out there, who respect women's rights, don't force their women to cover up or even encourage them to lead conservative lifestyles. There are moderate Muslims out there, both male and female, who drink, have casual sex, go swimming, bar-hopping and dress sexy just like regular people do in Western societies. But the media never hears about us. They hear about the psycho who blows himself up while babbling on and on about Israel and Palestine. Yeah, welcome to my life.

Jose wasted no time asking me out, and I agreed to go out with him. We went to the Blair movie theater, then ate some delicious Chinese food inside the Saint Laurent Mall's food court. We topped everything off by walking together near the Rideau Canal, tossing rocks into the water while talking and laughing. At the end of the night, he tried to hug me but I surprised him by kissing him. Yep, the shy and quiet Saudi chick kissed the wild and outgoing Afro-Caribbean guy by kissing him on the lips at the end of our first time. I bet you didn't see that one coming, did you? I acted all coy in front of Jose, while he smiled at me and wished me goodnight. I went home with a big smile on my face. When my roommate Ashley, a tall Jamaican chick from Toronto saw me, she asked me if I got laid or something. I laughed and told her that I kissed a dude and I liked it. She laughed and we high-fived each other. I didn't tell her that Jose was the first guy I ever kissed, or that tonight was my first time ever out on a date.

Jose and I continued seeing each other. My new boyfriend was absolutely wonderful. Tall, sexy and charming. And he was really patient with me. I enjoyed kissing him and being affectionate with him, and speaking sweet words to him in Spanish. However, I wasn't ready for more. Give a break, okay, I'm still new to all this! Jose was patient with me. A lot of guys would lose interest in a gal after a few months if she wasn't giving them what they needed. If you know what I mean. For me, I felt conflicted. I'm a Muslim woman with Agnostic tendencies who's fallen in love with a handsome young biracial man who's a devout Catholic. He doesn't know that I'm Saudi. He thinks I'm Hispanic and I deliberately misled him. Why? Because I don't want to lose him. It's unfair that Muslim men can date and marry women of any race or religion but Muslim women can only marry Muslim men. Well, I decided to toss that rule out the window. I'm in Canada, where anyone, gays and lesbians included, can marry whoever they want. I'm not in Saudi fucking Arabia where a woman can't go to the toilet without male permission.

One night, three months after we first met, I went to Jose's dorm on the other side of campus. When I went up to his door, he greeted me wearing only his boxers. He was about to go to the shower, that was his answer, said in a defensive tone. Jose smiled nervously, because he clearly wasn't expecting me. I guess I looked tense, for he asked me if everything was alright. I told him we had to talk. Jose let me in, and we sat on his couch. South Park was playing on the tube. The Imagination Land episode where Arab terrorists attack Imagination Land and the South Park gang are forced to join forces with pop culture characters to save the day, with Eric Cartman leading the fray. Jose sat next to me, giving me his full attention. I looked into the eyes of this beautiful young man and realized how much I loved him. And I was afraid to tell him the truth...

Jose tenderly touched my arm and asked me if everything was okay. Instead of answering him, I leaned closer and kissed him. Jose seemed surprised, but he kissed me back. Hesitantly, I touched his inner thigh, and brushed against his groin. Jose froze as if someone hit the pause button. He stared at me, stunned. I smiled with more boldness than I felt, and asked him what was wrong. Jose asked me if I was sure I knew what I was doing. I nodded, then kissed him again. This time, he didn't resist me. Gently, he took my hand and led me to his bed. There, he laid me down and slowly, gently undressed me. He called me his Mona Lisa. Guilt soared through me as I saw the adoration in his eyes. I wasn't Mona Lisa, beautiful lady who modeled for the most famous artist of all time. I was Mona Farouk, Saudi chick who lies to everyone who gets close to her, especially family and friends. I was leading a double life. But I couldn't tell Jose that, not tonight...

Naked, I lay in bed with the young man I loved. What a sharp contrast between him and me. He's so sexy and muscular. I'm a chubby chick with big tits, wide hips and a big round ass. My man is jacked and I'm nearly a marshmallow. Jose sensed my initial discomfort and told me I was beautiful. Then he began kissing me all over, and I moaned under his touch. This stud clearly knew his way around the female body. He sucked on my breasts while his hand slipped between my legs. He found my sweet spot, and slipped two of his fingers inside my pussy. I let out a sharp cry as he began fingering me. He asked me if I was okay and I told him not to stop. Grinning, he continued what he was doing. Soon he was kissing a path from my breasts to the space between my legs. He began licking my pussy, darting his tongue and fingers inside of me. As he teased my clitoris with his tongue and thrust his fingers into my cunt, I moaned in pleasure. Waves of pleasure coursed through me as Jose worked his magic on me. When "the moment" happened, I shouted out in orgasmic delight. And it wasn't in English.

Later, Jose would ask me what language I shouted in and I ignored his question. Instead, I grabbed his member and stroked it, telling him I wanted it inside of me. Inside, I felt a fire that only he could put out. Jose wasted no time putting on a condom. He laid me on the bed, on my back with my legs spread. Jose pressed his hard dick against my pussy, and asked me if I was ready. I nodded. Hell, I'd been waiting for this my whole life. Jose pushed his cock inside of me, and I was a virgin no more. I wrapped my arms around Jose as he made love to me, thrusting his dick deep into me. My pussy was quite tight, as you can imagine, but I felt little pain as he fucked me. I relaxed and enjoyed, I just let it happen as my sexy boyfriend and I made love for the first time. Jose and I looked into each other's eyes, and he told me how beautiful I was. I smiled up at him. Hard and fast he pounded away at me, causing me slight pain for a moment, but afterwards, I felt really good.

Much later, Jose and I lay in bed together. My sexy lover ran his hand through my hair and kissed my lips softly. He murmured soft words of love in my ear, calling me his Mona Lisa. Again the guilt shot through me. If only he knew. I am a deceiver on so many levels. I'm not the Hispanic or Latin American beauty he thinks I am. I'm a Saudi woman in disguise. If my family members knew I had shared my bed with a man not of their choosing, without being married, I'd be dead. I try not to think about it. What am I going to do? I rarely call home, and I refuse to deal with family members anymore. I like my new life at Carleton University. I want to be with Jose always. I know that one of these days, my carefully organized world will unravel. Someday, one of my family members or my new friends with discover my duplicity. I will be exposed. Once that happens, I'm a dead woman. In the name of family honor, I will be slain. Until then, while I'm alive, I will treasure my friends and love my darling Jose with my every breath. Amen.

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