After messing around with you the night before, I’m really struggling with my emotions this morning. I’m a Muslim woman… I can’t believe I let you get into my head and pollute my thoughts with sex.
But… why don’t I feel polluted? I feel lighter than I have in years, which is why I can’t help but touch myself thinking about your BWC and how much I wish we could have finished what we started.
And there it is again. The confusion creeping back in. I need to pray. I need some form of insight!
But when I do… you’re there. Is that a sign itself? Allah knows. But I need to get some form of closure and… here you are.
But closure apparently looks like obsession in my faith. I feel guilty for how things ended the night before and so… well, I worship you, the way I’ve always been taught how.
And when you cum on my hijab after my encouragement, I do the one thing that no white man has ever seen before…
