Somali Muslim Lesbian Chick

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“Jagdeep, wake the fuck up, we’ve got work in an hour,” Sagal Warsame said, and the young Somali Muslim woman shook her partner’s shoulder, then slapped it. The sting of the shoulder slap caused Jagdeep to bolt awake. Jagdeep sat upright on the bed, still wearing those ridiculous Superman pajamas that she swore to Sagal that she’d get rid of…when they first met, over a year ago. That’s what I get for dating a tomboy, Sagal thought, wryly amused.

“Sheesh, Sagal, stop frigging shouting,” Jagdeep said, and she grabbed a pillow and threw it at her partner, who was already dressed up and ready to go. Jagdeep wiped the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and looked at her partner. Sagal Warsame stood there, clad in a long-sleeved Black T-shirt, a traditional ankle-length Black dress, and Black leather boots. A few stray strands of dark hair peeked out from under her modest ebony Hijab.

“Jagdeep, Walmart opens at seven o’clock and we have to be there half an hour before that, if you factor in bus time, we should have left the damn apartment already,” Sagal said, her normally melodious voice at a shrill pitch. Jagdeep resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, knowing it would make Sagal even more irate, and she was in no mood to have an argument with her favorite femme fatale…

“Yes ma’am,” Jagdeep replied, and she rose at last, yawned and stretched. Standing six feet tall, somewhat on the slim slide but curvy where it counted, with light brown skin and long, curly dark hair which she normally hid away under her Turban, Jagdeep Gagandeep was a fine specimen of South Asian womanhood. Born in the Punjab region of India, and brought up in the ways of Sikhism, Jagdeep is an international student at Algonquin College, majoring in Applied Business.

“Get that cute ass in the shower,” Sagal said, grinning, and she playfully slapped Jagdeep’s nice round bum, hard enough to cause the other woman to raise an eyebrow. Jagdeep shook her head, and Sagal laughed. May the Divine deliver us from bossy femmes who look soft and sweet but are irritating as hell, Jagdeep thought, and she began undressing, walking to the nearby washroom as she did so.

“Don’t objectify me,” Jagdeep said, laughing, as Sagal stood there, watching her get naked. Off came the pajama top, and the pants, followed by the neon-blue boxer shorts that Sagal bought for Jagdeep in the men’s section at Walmart a few weeks ago. Sagal licked her lips as she watched Jagdeep step into the shower, the water cascading off that athletic, sexy body quite nicely. This bitch is going to make me late again, Sagal thought, somewhere between amused and annoyed.

There are easier things in life than being a customer service manager at Walmart, and Sagal Warsame honestly couldn’t remember why she ever thought taking the job would be a good idea. Walmart is the kind of store that has a high turnover rate because they treat workers like shit. It’s quite unfortunate but truth be told, it’s simply the way of things when one works in a big-box store. At least, that’s what Sagal told herself…more than once.

As has been stated before, shit rolls downhill. The Walmart store managers crap on the assistant managers, the assistant managers crap on the customer service managers, and the customer service managers crap on the associates, as the men and women at the bottom of the Walmart totem pole are known. Sagal liked being nice to her team, but she had a job to do.

“Ah, you’re ready,” Sagal said, as Jagdeep finished putting on her uniform. The six-foot-tall, tomboyish young Sikh Indian woman looked good in anything, from those traditional outfits that were popular in the Punjab State of India, where she was born, to the men’s dress shirts and dress pants that she insisted on wearing. Jagdeep looked at once tomboyish and sexy in a blue work vest over tight Black jeans which showed off her nice thighs and nicely rounded ass. Tomboy Hotness and total temptress, Sagal thought, amused.

“Sagal, you’re too damn bossy, you boss me around at work and you do it at home, where does it stop?” Jagdeep said, in mock protest, and Sagal grinned, then stood on her tippy toes and kissed her lover on the lips. She admired their reflections in the bedroom mirror. The contrast between them was startling. The tall, athletic young Indian woman and her shorter, curvier African girlfriend.

“Hmm, it never ends, cutie, besides, I know you like it like that,” Sagal countered, and she grabbed Jagdeep’s ass again and gave it a squeeze for good measure. Jagdeep rolled her eyes as Sagal laughed, then grabbed her hand and led her to the door. They made a beeline to the elevator. The building where they lived overlooked the College Square area, and they lived only two kilometers from the Walmart where they worked. Still, if they missed the bus, this meant walking in the frost for quite a while…

“Run, short stuff,” Jagdeep said to Sagal, laughing merrily and the shorter woman huffed as her partner half-dragged samsun escort her along while racing for the nearby OC Transpo bus stop. They raced through the snow-covered streets of Nepean, Ontario, and barely made it. The packed bus looked like it was ready to leave when Jagdeep knocked on its door forcefully. The driver, an older, brown-skinned man in a Turban smiled at Jagdeep and opened the door.

“Sat Sri Akaal, thank you brother,” Jagdeep said, and she half-dragged Sagal inside the crowded bus. Sagal, who looked a bit winded, grabbed the yellow bar for support and tried to catch her breath. At five-foot-eight, Sagal was very lovely and voluptuous, much to Jagdeep’s delight, for Jagdeep loves her curves, but today’s sprint was a stern reminded that Sagal needed work on her cardio. Of course, Jagdeep wouldn’t say anything because she didn’t want to hurt her boo’s feelings…

“I’m okay,” Sagal said, noting the concern on Jagdeep’s lovely face, and she pulled a water bottle from her backpack and chugged down half of it in one gulp. It was six forty six and the store would open in fourteen minutes. They’d officially missed the morning pre-shift meeting and would have to play catch up. For Jagdeep, this wasn’t a big deal since she was a Store Standard, a fancy name which meant Cart Guy, or in this case, Cart Gal. For Sagal, this was more serious, since she was a customer service manager…

“Babe, don’t die on me, alright?” Jagdeep said, and she then wrapped her arms protectively around her curvy girlfriend, and kissed Sagal on the forehead. Sagal smiled and held tightly onto Jagdeep, pleased by this simple, tender gesture. Jagdeep sighed happily as Sagal hugged her back, and was about to say something else when she sensed…them. The bus was full of people of all hues, from Africans to White Canadians, Chinese, Latinos and Arabs, but Jagdeep noticed a lot of the brown people, Indians and Pakistanis, staring at them disapprovingly.

“Is there a problem?” Sagal asked a couple of South Asians who were staring at them disapprovingly. The couple, a plump South Asian woman in a long overcoat and Sari, and a skinnky, middle-aged, bearded brown man in a men’s Kameez and trousers under his winter coat, continued to stare. The plump brown woman mumbled something to the man in a language that sounded a bit like the Hindi that Sagal had heard Jagdeep speak, but wasn’t exactly like it.

“Ignore them, babe,” Jagdeep said, and she took Sagal’s hand and squeezed it gently before bringing it to her lips. Sagal smiled, her ire placated…for the moment. When people met Sagal and Jagdeep, they usually thought that the short, Hijab-wearing Somali Muslim gal was soft and sweet, while the tall, athletic, stern-looking Jagdeep was presumed to be tough. If they only knew. Jagdeep was friendly and easygoing under her serious demeanor, while Sagal was a hurricane waiting to consume everything in her path…

Sagal Warsame had been through a lot in her twenty-odd years upon this earth. Born in the City of Calgary, Alberta, to Somali Muslim immigrant parents, she was quite familiar with hardship, for her parents, Kader and Halima Warsame, were dirt poor. Still, they worked hard to provide for Sagal and her older brothers, Ali and Mustafa. Sagal grew up as quite the tomboy, albeit the Hijab-wearing and mosque-attending kind.

Sagal played on the women’s rugby squad while attending the University of Calgary, and played all four years. After graduating from the University of Calgary with a degree in Accounting, Sagal looked for work in Calgary…in vain. Someone forgot to tell the ambitious young Canadian Muslim woman that a lot of rednecks out in Alberta had a strong dislike of “those who looked Muslim” and they refused to hire her for jobs she was overqualified for. Fed up with Alberta, Sagal decided to try her luck elsewhere, hence the move to the City of Ottawa, Ontario.

Sagal Warsame counted herself lucky to have someone like Jagdeep Gagandeep in her life. A Somali Muslim woman and a Sikh Indian woman, two lesbians from opposite sides of the world, of different races and religions, passionately in love. They were both so atypical of their respective realms. Neither of them hid who and what they were, in spite of their conservative backgrounds. Was the world ready for a couple like Jagdeep and Sagal?

Jagdeep’s older brother, a bearded and proud Sikh Indian gentleman named Khan Gagandeep knew she was a lesbian, and he fully supported her. The way he figured it, he couldn’t blame his sister for breaking with tradition in the name of love. Jagdeep’s parents weren’t speaking to her or her brother Khan, for reasons of family honor. Essentially, the Gagandeep parents frowned upon their offspring’s life choices, to put things mildly.

Sagal Warsame’s parents Kader and Halima Warsame were stunned when their pious, Hijab-wearing and very traditional Muslim daughter informed them that she liked girls, but they didn’t flip out or rage at her the way lots of Muslim parents might have. Sagal knew that in the Somali Muslim community, being gay, bisexual or lesbian was considered haram or dirty and forbidden. She was patient with her parents, giving them time to adjust.

Sagal Warsame coming out as a lesbian had been a bit of a shock to her parents, to say the very least. They simply didn’t see it coming because Sagal didn’t fit the lesbian stereotypes. She “looked” normal. In time, the Warsame parents actually came around, and these days, Sagal was glad to see that her folks just wanted her to be happy. Kader and Halima Warsame had been delighted, if a bit surprised, to meet Sagal’s partner Jagdeep. For reasons like these, Sagal Warsame was fearless…

“Hmm, if they start talking shit in English I will definitely slap a fool,” Sagal muttered, and Jagdeep grinned, and cupped her chin in her hand. She remembered how, a few months back, an angry customer started yelling at one of the cashiers, a shy young Filipino gal, and Sagal defended the cashier by squaring up to the tall, large and angry middle-aged white man. When the guy threatened Sagal, the irate Hijabi threatened to kick him in the balls and THEN call the cops. The bozo left with his tail between his legs…

“Hmm, don’t fret over those losers, babe, hey, come on, our stop is coming up,” Jagdeep said, and Sagal smiled and nodded. They exited the bus, along with twenty other people who worked in the area. The local business district included a CIBC Bank, a Mucho Burrito restaurant, a Middle-Eastern restaurant, a Thai Express, and a few other businesses. They rushed through the parking lot and made a beeline for Walmart, arriving at exactly seven o’clock that morning. Made it, Sagal thought, amazed.

Jagdeep Gagandeep donned a reflective vest over her dark blue, size X-L men’s style winter coat, plus a tuque and thick winter gloves, before venturing out into the parking lot to do her job. Being a Store Standard at Walmart meant being the person who goes out and grabs the carts and puts them into the corral at the front of the store. The job could get dangerous on a frosty day like today, that’s for damn sure. Welcome to my life, Jagdeep thought, sighing.

Jagdeep stood there, as it started to snow, and reminisced. She thought of her parents, Dhaliwal and Mansi Gagandeep, and the two of them were probably in her hometown of Ludhiana, Punjab State of India, enjoying the warm weather. For the thousandth time, Jagdeep cursed herself for opting to study in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, instead of someplace temperate like the City of Miami, Florida, where her older brother Khan studied civil engineering at the University of Miami.

Khan Gagandeep chose to stay in Florida after graduation, having found a good job with a tech company there, and he recently married a young African American woman named Shamika Burns whom he met while in school. They were in the same program and met during a group project. To say that Jagdeep’s parents were incensed to find out that their only son had married a Black woman would have been an understatement. They ceased all communications with their son Khan, to his and his sister Jagdeep’s everlasting chagrin.

“Mom and Dad hate my guts for marrying my darling Shamika, but they should know, we absolutely love Black women in this family,” Khan said to his younger sister Jagdeep at the wedding reception in Miami, shortly after Jagdeep introduced him to her partner Sagal Warsame. The Gagandeep siblings laughed merrily and their respective ladies, Shamika and Sagal happily joined in. This had been Sagal’s first trip to the United States, and she was thrilled to be attending her future brother-in-law’s wedding.

“Glad to have you here, Jagdeep and good to meet you, Sagal,” said Shamika Burns, and the two young women nodded graciously. They smiled at the tall, stunningly attractive young Black American woman, who looked fantastic in a resplendent wedding gown. These two make a nice couple, Jagdeep thought, admiring her brother Khan and his new bride Shamika Burns. They were two highly educated people working in the field of engineering, happy and in love. What could be wrong with that?

“We’re happy to be here, thanks for inviting us, my brother,” Sagal said joyfully, and she smiled at Khan and his new bride Shamika, before giving her partner Jagdeep a big kiss. As the wedding reception continued, various couples left the feast-laden tables and hit the dance floor. There were a lot of African-Americans there, members of Shamika Burns family, and the only Indian person there, besides Khan the groom, was his sister Jagdeep.

“Can I have this dance?” Jagdeep said to Sagal, smiling at her partner, who looked terrific in a traditional Somali dress, bright green and white, with a white Hijab. Sagal smiled and nodded, and took the hand that Jagdeep offered. Jagdeep looked great in a long-sleeved, gold-and-Black-patterned traditional Punjabi costume, men’s style of course, with a stylish dark Turban concealing her long dark hair. The outfit was a gift from Khan. My sexy Sikh tomboy goddess, Sagal thought.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Sagal replied to Jagdeep, as they hit the dance floor. Among all the couples on the dance floor, Khan and his bride Shamika were the center of attention, as well they should be, since it was their wedding night. Still, more than a few people looked at a certain tall, Turban-wearing and downright elegant Indian tomboy and her gorgeous, Hijab-wearing Somali Muslim girlfriend, as they dazzled everyone with their smooth dance moves.

“Well, Sagal, my love, welcome to the family,” Jagdeep said to Sagal, as they danced gracefully, with the oldie hit song For Your Love by Ed Townsend playing in the background. Sagal grinned, and kissed Jagdeep passionately. I love this woman more than life itself, Jagdeep thought. Sagal was gorgeous, smart, strong, feminine, at times deliciously tomboy, and always fearless, the perfect woman as far as Jagdeep was concerned.

“Jagdeep, I love you, and your family, thanks for being in my life,” Sagal said, when they came up for air, and Jagdeep grinned and squeezed her hand, pleased by her words and the sincere love she saw in her beloved Hijabi’s eyes. As they shared this moment, Jagdeep’s brother Khan and his new bride Shamika Burns danced nearby, and happily waved at them. Jagdeep and Sagal waved back, laughing merrily. Jagdeep and I are going to make fabulous aunties once these two start a family, Sagal thought happily.

“Hmm, I’ve been wanting to tear that dress off of you since the dance floor,” Jagdeep said to Sagal, later that night, as they returned to their hotel room. Sagal grinned and stood before her lover, hands on her hips. Jagdeep sat on the bed, stripped down to her dark blue bra and matching boxer shorts. Sagal flashed her a sexy wink before easing out of her traditional dress, doing a sexy strip tease…

“Well, Jagdeep, you wined and dined me, and danced with me, figured you’d want some,” Sagal laughed, and Jagdeep nodded, watching as her lover tossed aside the dress, then removed the Hijab, one pin at a time. Jagdeep rose from the bed and took Sagal in her arms. They kissed passionately, and then began making love, after tumbling on the bed in a heap of limbs.

“Gosh you’re beautiful,” Jagdeep said, grinning, as Sagal climbed on top of her. They kissed once more, and Jagdeep caressed Sagal’s breasts, causing her lover to moan in sheer ecstasy. Jagdeep began sucking on Sagal’s breasts, while working her hand between her thick, lovely inner thighs. Sagal smiled as Jagdeep’s fingers slid inside of her. Just like that, Sagal cooed softly.

“Enough sweet talk, gorgeous, eat that pussy,” Sagal demanded, and Jagdeep smirked, and worked three fingers into Sagal’s pussy while teasing her clitoris with her tongue. Sagal’s eyes widened in shock, and a pleasurable groan issued from her full lips. My goddess will melt on my tongue, Jagdeep thought as she began eating Sagal out, loving the way she tasted down below.

“Sagal, kindly shut up, open up and let me do my thing,” Jagdeep said, and Sagal grinned, watching as her lover buried her face between her legs. As Jagdeep began sucking on her clitoris while fingering her, a wave of arousal flushed through Sagal’s body. She lay there, writhing and moaning on the hotel bed as Jagdeep worked her magic on her. My sweetie’s got skills, Sagal thought, pleased.

“You’re not the boss of me, Jagdeep, now, eat my damn pussy,” Sagal countered, firmly grabbing the back of Jagdeep’s neck as the other woman ate her out. Jagdeep ignored Sagal’s words and continued to eat her out, not because she was compelled to obey but because, dammit, eating pussy feels awesome, and Sagal has one of the best. She’s bossy as hell but tastes so good she’s addictive, Jagdeep thought as she continued to pleasure her darling Sagal…

“I am the boss of you,” Jagdeep said to Sagal, much later, as she showed her lover what she was made of. Like a lot of femmes, Sagal liked to run her mouth, and it was her to a strong, caring Butch like Jagdeep to show her the error of her ways. Sagal found herself on all fours, face down and big beautiful ass up, as Jagdeep happily spanked her lovely derriere. Leaving bruises on her sassy-mouthed lover’s ass never felt so good…

“Yeah, yeah, fuck me already,” Sagal said, laughing, and she squealed as Jagdeep spanked her harder, making her big booty bounce with a particularly stinging slap. Jagdeep spanked Sagal some more, then grabbed her favorite toy. Donning her strap-on dildo, Jagdeep rubbed it against Sagal’s bum. Sagal turned and grinned upon seeing Jagdeep’s phallic toy.

“Come and get it,” Jagdeep said, in a daring tone of voice that she knew Sagal could not resist. Sagal came, and she grabbed the strap-on dildo, but didn’t suck on it. Shoving it aside, she grabbed Jagdeep by those strong, muscular legs of hers and drew her down. Jagdeep sat on the bed, and Sagal spread her legs and pushed aside the harness holding the dildo into place, exposing her hairy pussy.

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