Muslim women are beautiful in every way. Words can not describe their beauty. The Hijabs they wear are a sign of modesty, morality and privacy but i am human so it is only right for me to be curious. I have always wanted to know what was underneath all the covering. They say curiosity killed the cat but my curiosity led me to a night of not questioning anything. A night of BLISS.
Kings cross gets really packed up during the weekend and that’s not just because people want to go to other places in England. Its an international Train station. You can go to countries around Europe that are close by. As I stood watching the train times, she passed by me and the smell of her perfume drew me to her. I was like a dog tracking an escaped fugitive in the jungle. All I could do was follow the perfume. Finally caught up with her and I had this sigh of relief when she turned. Her beauty was from the Greek gods and our Father in Heaven. She was a goddess in my eyes. She got a ticket going to Manchester and I was going to Liverpool but because of her, I got the same ticket as her. Sat in front of her and didn’t say anything. Couldn’t see her curves, couldn’t tell if her breasts were huge or small, couldn’t tell if her skin was smooth or as hairy as mine. She was all covered up but little did I know that she wasn’t a Muslim. She just felt like dressing like that.
An hour into our journey, I slept off and I had a dream about how I saw a beauty but little did I know it was real. She smiled at me and said “You must be tired”. I was dumb founded for a few seconds but I got myself back and answered her. She introduced herself to me and told me not to be awkward around her or think she is married because of her whole cover up like she is Muslim. She didn’t do her laundry and she just had to travel so she decided to dress that way. Her name was Jessica. She took out her bottle, drank water from it and the feeling I got from watching her was crazy.
As the water went down, it was like I could see inside her neck and all I could think about was how her mouth could contain the long and thick meat I had in between my legs. Anytime I looked at her lips, I got lost in a world of confusion. Her lower lip was pink and plump, dropped down a bit like it was sagging or running away from her upper lip but it was beautiful. The thought of kissing her made me feel like I understood what seal was thinking when he wrote kiss from a rose. We got talking, got to know each other and I found out she was going home to Manchester. She only came to London for the weekend and I confessed to her that I didn’t have anyone in Manchester and I was drawn by her perfume but her beauty made me buy the ticket and get on the train. Laughed about it and she said I could spend the night at hers. We got in, she brought out a bong, water, fruits, chips, gummy bears, lighter and a bag of weed. We had gotten to the stage where the night couldn’t go bad. We just couldn’t talk and go to bed without getting high. She took the load off her body and it felt like a bright light was shinning into my eyes. Her breast and curves were all over the place. A human hour glass I must say. We smoked for hours, had them munchies, ordered Chinese and there was nothing to do.
Finally got what I wanted which was to see what was under the huge cloth and hijab but I still wasn’t satisfied. I just couldn’t go to sleep like that without knowing if all I thought about her lips and throat were true. I went in for a kiss and she didn’t push me away. We kept going and I started to feel her skin.