Somali Lesbian Blues

The name is Jasmine Taylor, and I'm a young Black woman originally from the City of Boston, Massachusetts. I transferred to Spelman College in the City of Atlanta, Georgia, from Bay State College, a small school located in downtown Boston, and life hasn't been the same since. Even though the Dirty South and its ways get on my nerves as an outspoken young Black woman in the Age of President Barack Obama, I've grown fond of the place.

Being Black, female and openly gay isn't easy in the South, let no one tell you different. Add butch to the mix, and you've got a recipe for disaster. Boston is a racially diverse and fairly liberal town, and gays and lesbians are well-received in pretty much every avenue of life down there. Up here in the Dirty South, things are extremely different. Both black citizens and white citizens seem to have something against us queers, and that's a doggone shame if you ask me.

I believe in living this little life of mine my way. I'm five-foot-ten, neither fat nor thin, but rather stocky, with long black hair, dark brown skin and soulful light brown eyes. Oh, and I've got a nice, round and thick ass. Butch girls got booty too and I'm one of them! I get my height from my father, Jerome Taylor. He once played basketball for Boston University, way back in the day. My Pops is a retired member of the Massachusetts State Police, and he always encouraged me to follow my dreams.

A lot of lesbians I meet tend to have something against men, and male authority figures in particular, calling them the patriarchy. Well, I'm a strong black lesbian who loves her Daddy. My Pops is the only member of my family to support me when I came out of the closet in the summer of 2013. The other members of our family are rather close-minded. My brother Elijah and I haven't spoken since I came out of the closet. I should mention that he's deeply conservative, since he's a church deacon and all.

Damn shame if you ask me. Oh, well. Can't please the world. I came to Atlanta because I wanted a change of scenery, and also because I'd grown tired of Boston, the town where I spent eighteen of the past twenty years. Change is good, I say. Besides, after a romance gone bad, many places in Boston which were dear to me and my ex-girlfriend left me feeling sour, folks. Seriously.

I met Yasmina Hassan while visiting my cousin Jefferson at Northeastern University. Jefferson leads an all-faith prayer group at his school, and Yasmina is one of the few Muslim students to join that group. From the moment I laid eyes on the tall, brown-skinned, majestic gal in the long skirt and hijab, I knew that I wanted her. Yasmina is a newcomer to the States, by way of Ottawa, Ontario. The gal is studying law at Northeastern University after earning her criminology degree at Carleton University in Ottawa.

Tall, gorgeous and brainy, with a booty to match. How could I resist a woman with such a lethal combination? I guess you can say that Yasmina fascinated me, and I went after her like a moth to the proverbial flame. Someone forgot to tell me how fickle Muslim women, especially the ones of Somali descent, are when it comes to human sexuality and lesbianism in general.

The first time Yasmina and I had sex, after watching a movie at the Loew's movie theater downtown, we hooked up in her dorm. I laid the tall, sinfully sexy Somali-Canadian cutie on the bed, and proceeded to worship her gorgeous body just like I should. I kissed Yasmina full and deep, then licked her from her head to her toes. Spreading Yasmina's thighs, I buried my face between her shapely legs and gave her sweet pussy a good licking.

That night, I made Yasmina scream as I pleasured her, and we both had a lot of fun together. Yasmina proved to be quite good at eating pussy. Shoot, like most butch lesbians, I don't like femmes getting all up in my muff but Yasmina was absolutely awesome. So much that I let Yasmina finger me and lick me good, and the gal made my toes curl, I swear. Yeah, Yasmina and I got along great in the bedroom.

Guess what Yasmina Hassan did, right after the two of us had awesome lesbian sex? The bitch got on all fours and prayed for forgiveness, AFTER taking a cleansing shower to wash away all traces of what we'd done to each other. Um, what the fuck? I've had my share of closet cases and chicks who act weird after having sex with another woman but Yasmina Hassan definitely took the cake. The bitch was nuts, and even asked me to join her in prayer. Apparently, what Yasmina and I did together was sinful, according to her Somali cultural beliefs. Um, what the fuck?

Sex is a powerful thing, and even though I left Yasmina's place feeling weird that night, I refused to give up on her. Religion can be a wonderful thing, but it can also fuck up the lives of gays, lesbians and bisexual folks if used the wrong way. I was raised in a Roman Catholic household and church doctrine dictates that homosexuality, bisexuality and lesbianism are wrong. I believe in the Creator, but I don't bother going to church anymore. Too many haters in there if you ask me.

I went back to Yasmina, and tried to reason with her. Even though Roman Catholicism and Islam are radically different, they're both Abrahamic religions and stem from the same source. I tried to explain to Yasmina that being gay or lesbian wasn't wrong, and that lots of people like us led happy, normal and decent lives right here in the United States of America.

For a while, Yasmina seemed to believe me, and we resumed having hot lesbo sex with each other. I was addicted to the Somali-Canadian gal's pussy and couldn't get enough of it, man. I'm a pussy-whipped lesbian, it does happen! Unfortunately, as much as I loved Yasmina Hassan, I couldn't undo decades of brainwashing and social conditioning.

Let me make certain things clear to you, folks. Yasmina Hassan is one hundred percent lesbian. The gal feels zero attraction toward males. I've dealt with bisexual women before, ladies who genuinely feel for both men and women. Yasmina is not one of them. The hijab-wearing Somali chick is gayer than a two-dollar bill! Yet Yasmina has convinced herself that through prayer she can overcome her lesbian desires, marry some Somali guy and become a proper Somali wife and mother. What the fuck?

In the end, fed up with Yasmina Hassan's confusion and lies, I walked away from our relationship. As much as it pained me to leave her, I needed to get away from the lady I called my Somali goddess, for the sake of my sanity. That's why I left Boston and moved to Atlanta. I needed to get away from Yasmina. Pops tells me that Yasmina still calls our house from time to time, asking about me. I think Yasmina might be obsessed with me or something. I sure as hell hope I never run into her again. I don't like crazy religious broads. Sure, they fuck great but they're ultimately bad for you. Stay away from them, folks. Seriously.