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THE HIJAB HANDJOB

 Rabiah was incredibly horny. As she walked down the stairs to the Sutton Hall lobby, all she could manage to think about was getting off. Having just spent a grueling seventy two hours in the company of her ultra-strict, Syrian-born parents, she had repressed herself, putting on a show until they departed.

They had left a few hours before, headed back to Michigan. Rabiah had been so utterly exhausted by their presence that as soon as she got back to her dorm after dropping them off at the airport, she passed out.

It was now a little after one in the morning and Rabiah was desperately in need of some sexual excitement. She crept down the stairs quietly as it appeared that there was someone passed out on one of the lobby couches. She looked to see if anyone was manning the lobby desk but it didn't appear as if anyone was there.

She studied the fellow passed out on the couch. Such a shame, Rabiah thought, he's so handsome. He would have been a lot of fun to explore in the dark.

Defeated, she quietly turned to head back up the stairs when a rather randy thought occurred to her. It was a wicked thought but nothing she couldn't recover from. Rabiah looked around, stopped and listened. Silence. Sutton Hall was as dead as a graveyard. It was the middle of North Central's spring break vacation and there was hardly a soul around.

Rabiah was fairly confident that no one would happen in on her should she go through with her naughty plan and if they did, the more the merrier. She crept back over to the handsome fellow passed out on the couch. She looked at him, trying to figure how should would maneuver him so that she could have her way with him.

She had no idea what his name was but she'd seen him around the dorms before.

She had a vague idea that he was an exercise science or kinesiology major, though where she got that idea was anyone's guess. Luckily for her, he was wearing basketball shorts, a plain white t-shirt and a zip up blue hoodie. She sat down next to him, nuzzling into him, partially to test how deeply asleep he was, partially because she liked spooning with guys.

She was laying inside his left arm, which had ended up sprawled out across the top of the couch, his left leg propped up on the couch up to his knee, with his calf and foot dangling off. She rested her head on his chest, with her legs extending out toward the opposite end of the couch.

Her heart rate spiked momentarily when upon settling in to her new position, her mystery man lowered his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in slightly.

This excited and aroused Rabiah and was a good sign as far as she was concerned. She looked up at his face, making certain he was asleep. He was.

Rabiah could hear his heartbeat through his chest, her right ear pressed against him. She found it impossibly romantic, even though the man wasn't aware she was there and she didn't know his name. She lifted her head briefly and strained to listen, wanting to check one final time that no one was coming.

They weren't.

She lifted up as quietly and delicately as she could, looking back over the top of the couch toward the information desk. Still no sign of any student worker or overnight security. All systems were go. She took her right hand and like a jewel thief trying not to set off motion sensors, she crept along the handsome stranger's gym shorts, the elastic waistband easily manipulated to accommodate her hand and arm as it slid down.

She quickly felt his member and placed her fingers around it, making sure that as she began to stroke, the soft underside of her fingers and palm would make contact with his soft underside, insuring that he became aroused.

She began to stroke him, slowly at first, still very much listening for the tell-tale signs of humanity headed her way. At this point she was having a difficult time distinguishing his heartbeat from her own, she was pounding so loudly. She stroke, doing her best to slide up and down his pole but it didn't seem to make a difference. No matter what she tried, he simply wasn't getting hard.

Rabiah had one more thought. She took her chiffon hijab off of her head, having forgotten to remove it earlier when her parents left, and lowered the material into the man's shorts. She felt for his manhood and upon locating it, wrapped it around him like a glove, her hand fitting neatly inside.

She began to stroke once more. Within a minute the mysterious stranger was as solid as a rock and Rabiah was starting to get wet. Stroking her new boy toy, she used her free hand to reach down into her leggings, past her panties and straight to her clitoris.

Rabiah rubbed circles on herself while tenderly stroking up and down on this hard bodied dreamer. She had to close her eyes as she could hardly process what was happening. The thought of getting this guy off, then sneaking away into the night was so hot to her. She rubbed herself harder, employing more fingers as she dipped in and out of herself, getting wetter by the moment.

The guy, although asleep, was clearly enjoying himself as well. He kept producing these long moans punctuated with the occasional "oh my God". Rabiah wanted nothing more than to stand over his face while she ground her box into his lips, he laying there, using his hands to massage her inner thigh and his tongue to...

"Oh baby, please," the man moaned before shifting on the couch. This was a severe enough reaction that Rabiah briefly thought about stopping but figured she could handle the consequences, whatever they may be.

She was starting to get sweaty from all the hot and horny hand action happening and decided to kick off her tennis shoes and pull off her leggings so she could have easy access to her honeycomb.

There she was, in her socks, pink panties, a t-shirt and a jacket, the wet spot on the front of her underwear growing, her hijab wrapped around the tool of a man whose name she didn't know. She kept stroking him, loving how devastatingly big he felt in her nimble hand as she rode his shaft to the top before plunging back down in soft, chiffon-clad delicacy.

"Mmmm," the man let out, while licking his lips. "I want you so ba..." it was clear he was asleep but he obviously had someone or something in mind as he moaned these platitudes. Rabiah had her second naughty thought. She wondered if she were to slip his hand into her panties if he would...

She pulled out, leaving her enlarged clitoris begging for more. She quickly took his left hand, the one from atop the couch, and placed it over her panties, wanting to test the waters. Like some kind of erotic wind-up toy, his fingers began to make a circular motion, causing Rabiah to cry out in surprise and pleasure.

She lifted her ass, slipping her panties off her smooth legs, not wanting anything to disturb or wake this dreaming sex machine. Rabiah placed him directly over her sweet spot and in automatic fashion, his hand went to work. She had to bite into her jacket to keep from making any audible yelps.

Rabiah did her best to make sure she was stroking this guy as perfectly and as beautifully as she could, wanting his nocturnal orgasm to rival any that he had ever received while awake.

She kept stroking his shaft, giving a slight turn of the hand as she rode up and down. Soon, the man was shifting, while remaining completely out of it. Rabiah had also entered the danger zone and was finding it ever harder to contain herself as the man unconsciously teased her toward explosion.

The man began to pant, as did Rabiah. She looked over at him, looking for any indication in his face that he was coming to or had secretly been awake the entire time. Insofar as she could tell, he was dead to the world.

Her attention was very quickly drawn elsewhere as she felt her vaginal walls begin to contract with force.

"Hmmm," she moaned unexpectedly and rather loudly. "Huhhh, oh God," Rabiah was surprised that someone so thoroughly unawake could create such passions within her. It was then that she heard her man begin to grunt and she soon felt liquid warmth spreading over her hand.

As the couched collegiate was experiencing orgasm he began to rub all the quicker, with far more intensity, sending Rabiah into a spiral of desire.

She lifted one leg, squeezing her thigh into his hand, her wetness dripping all over the couch.

She threw her head into his chest, leaning to the side and kissing his hoodie, all the while squirming, feeling beyond what the English language could ever hope to capture in a few sentences. She began to bite she felt so good, and without thinking, leaned up and kissed him on the lips as the last echoes of her orgasm sailed through Rabiah's body.

The man, still very much asleep, kissed right back, their tongues traveling unhindered into one another's mouths.

The two of them remained there, kissing. Rabiah, who had nothing but socks on below her waist, proceeded to straddle the man's left leg as she kissed him and slowly began to grind into him as she did so. The man's hand, completely unaided, proceeded to re-adjust itself, getting ready for round two of Rabiah's fingering.

Rabiah started to thrust into and away from his hand, causing the man's subconscious to try and track her movements. It did this with surprising agility as his other hand, independent of the first one, groped until it found her ass and began to insert itself into her back door while his left hand knocked upon the front.

She couldn't believe what was happening. No conscious guy had ever lovingly stuck a digit into her rear end before. The mysterious man was really digging in, twisting and massaging the inner muscles that comprised Rabiah's pelvic floor.

Rabiah didn't know it but she carried an immense amount of tension there and this single digit working it's way around inside of her was giving her tremendous relief.

Rabiah kept thrusting, all the while using her hands to try and coax a second orgasm out of this couch-bound hunk. By this point, she had pulled his gym shorts down as far as she could without his cooperation and was giving his testicles a much needed massage of their own.

She cupped them in one hand while the other continued to stroke the chiffon hijab up and down this man's love shaft.

She caressed and cajoled his balls, begging them to get back to a point where the couchman would increase the speed and intensity of his own Rabiah rub.

Soon enough she had him back where she wanted him. He was once again breathing heavily, light sweat stains appearing through his dark blue hoodie. His forehead had beads of perspiration on it and his stomach suddenly flexed heavily.

The top of his penis had somehow found an opening in the hijab as Rabiah had worked his rod and semen went flying into the air in spurts, some landing on his hoodie, some landing on Rabiah.

That caused her to begin to flow like a broken pipe and as the unconscious man was responding to the massive stimuli he had just received, he increased the intensity with which he rubbed Rabiah's pussy.

While she was receiving clitoral stimulation, the man's backdoor bandit had freed all tension from Rabiah's pelvic floor, causing bands of muscles to unwind in orgasmic unison. Rabiah was suffering a full frontal assault and the rear admiral was retreating.

She trembled as the shockwaves of orgasm went traveling from the base of her spine, down around her hips, right to her vagina, ultimately reverberating back again.

She felt that first wave fire out from her center and then ripple along her muscles as it spread outward from there. This time, she had nothing to bite into as she let out an orgasm induced cry. The man's hand kept grinding into her, causing her further pleasure, like the intense aftershocks of an off-the-chart erotic earthquake.

She was dripping onto his gym shorts and she loved it. She pulled her semen soaked chiffon up from his basketball shorts, pulling them as best she could back over the man's stiff pipe. She gathered her leggings, panties, and shoes, leaned in and gave him a swift kiss to the cheek, whispering "Thank you" as she pulled away.

Rabiah crept back up the stairs of Sutton Hall having been sexually satisfied and the mystery man having received his hijab handjob.

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