Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind–5Posted: February 28, 2010
Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind
Kħadeejah Muħammad put a woman’s handbag on the side table, in the meantime.
It was black in color.
“What’s this?” I asked.
Kħadeejah Muħammad smiled,
“This is a mystery.”
“I went to the reception to enquire if there’s something new important.”
I was fucking Sidrah Aħmad now.
As soon as I climaxed into Kħadeejah Muħammad, Kulsoom Ibrāhīm tried to take her place.
Sidrah swiftly came forward and defeated Kulsoom Ibrāhīm in her attempts.
“While coming back, I noticed this bag behind the big chair by the door.” Kħadeejah Muħammad said.
“Oh.” I entered Sidrah Aħmad again.
“I asked Kħālidah if it was hers. She refused and said that she hadn’t seen it before. I asked Kħālidah who had been in the reception carrying a handbag. After a few moments, Kħālidah decided it must have been Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain.”
Kulsoom Ibrāhīm smiled ironically.
Kħadeejah Muħammad winked at Kulsoom Ibrāhīm,
“Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife. Do you know her, Sidrah?”
Sidrah Aħmad was a mastermind.
Yet, she knew Kħadeejah Muħammad very well.
“Well,” Sidrah said, “She is my friend Deepak Khandelwal’s wife and so jealous of me that she has applied for divorce.”
“You are very much proud of yourself now, I think.” Kħadeejah Muħammad winked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m neither communal nor racial.” Sidrah said acidly.
Kħadeejah Muħammad and Kulsoom Ibrāhīm laughed incredulously.
Kħadeejah went on to say,
“Kħālidah says that within five minutes after I had left to see Fātimah on a matter of some importance to both of us, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain came in. Kħālidah was reading ‘Durgesh Muslimahs: the inseparables’. She had just come to the most interesting passage, reading with one eye and looking out for the incomers with the other. Kħālidah told her that you were with Fātimah in the bedroom and you seldom see someone without an appointment.”
“Yes,” I prompted her, taking interest in what she was telling me.
“Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain was terribly agitated. She said she had to see you right away. She was almost hysterical. She said, ‘Never mind. Never mind, I’ll wait. He’ll see me. I don’t want to leave here until I’ve arranged to have him protect me. I want Mr. Durgesh to look after my interests. Once he consents I won’t need even any damn private detective.”
“Then?” I smiled.
“Will you protect her?” Sidrah Aħmad interrupted.
I could not answer Sidrah.
Kħadeejah Muħammad said,
“Then Kħālidah asked her name and address. She gave her name as Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain. Told that she was Deepak Khandelwal’s wife, asking for divorce from him. So Kħālidah wrote down the name and went back to her Ashvinātam sex site reading. Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain sat down in that big chair by the window.
“After a few minutes, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife; got up and started pacing the floor. Then she said, ‘I’ll be back in a minute or two,’ opened the door and stepped out in the corridor.”
“Then?” I asked again.
“What then? That’s all. Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain never came back.”
“All right. She’ll be showing up any minute now. What did she look like?”
Kħadeejah Muħammad smiled,
“You don’t remember her? Well, she’ll suicide. She is very proud of her extra ordinary Libyan Muslim Beauty. Allah, Durgesh! Never say that in front of her. She’ll die of shame. The ever-sexiest Hindu of the Multiverse does not remember a Libyan Muslim Beauty, like Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain? I’ll be damned.”
“What does she look like? Sālī! Tell me.” I repeated patiently.
Kħadeejah Muħammad replied me reluctantly,
“Well, Kħālidah is a little vague, somewhat; about it. She says that she had an aristocratic bearing, a good Libyan Muslim figure, a well modulated sexy voice, and slender, tapering Libyan Muslim fingers. Kħālidah thinks Deepak Khandelwal’s Libyan Muslim wife Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain was about thirty two or thirty three years old.”
“Thirty two or thirty three years old?” I repeated significantly, “And she is divorcing Deepak Khandelwal for an old man of 60 years? Me?”
Kħadeejah Muħammad smiled,
“Even a lot of teen agers are crazy for this ‘old man’(?) of 60 years. He has a unique Hindu Penis with unique sexual prowess. Why are you forgetting Åāýéshah Ħasan, Aneesah Zubair and their movement to make teen agers your beloveds?”
I am Åāýéshah Ħasan.
I enjoy sex.
I am also tempted to write my sex experiences and now am trying to write my very first sex with my grand father.
Isn’t it ?…
But it is true …
I can never forget that first fuck with his huge monster Uncut Hindu Cock, it was that memorable.
But how did it all happen ……….. ?
In my college days, once I happened to see the practical sex of my Hindu Phoophaji with their Musalmān maiden, I could see their naked body but not the real genitals as they laid down in direct sex pose.
Since then my mind started thinking towards sex.
My one close friend, Aneesah Zubair, used to talk sex with me.
Although in the beginning I avoided, but after seeing that practical sex I showed some interest in talking sex with her.
She felt very happy with that change in me.
We used to share whatever we see, listen related to sex.
Also, we used to stare at sexy bodies of both Hindu men and Musalmān women and have fun with the sizes of their sensitive parts like Musalmān Boobs, Hindu Penis, Musalmān buttocks etc, which get reflected in tightly worn dress.
Slowly, we started enjoying our sexual parts by pressing and licking each other’s.
we moved our sex fantasy ahead further in different ways :
Enjoying sex pics, watching blue films, exposing our naked Muslim female bodies to each other in different poses, licking our Musalmān pussies in 69, and inserting banana and brinjal, carrot in our Musalmān pussies.
Aneesah Zubair said her elder brother’s Hindu friend and his Musalmān wife, sister-in-law; watch sex pics and blue films at night, and she manages to show me also all that stuff when we were alone.
This way my Muslim female body started responding to my sexual desires, and badly wanting for practical sex with a Hindu male.
During long vacation we all family members went to our hometown in India.
Our ancestors lived there when they came to India from Arab world.
It was a village.
My grandfather loves me very much.
He is not my real Grandfather.
my real Grandfather is Muħammad Ħasan.
But my entire Grand mothers were sleeping with Durgesh even before I was born.
They asked me to call him my Grandfather too.
The grand parents love kids generally.
It was that sort.
This present context is when I became a grown up…
In villages Hindu men usually take bath at wells, kuvan, baavđīi, even the Muslim women too, openly, with some distance therefrom.
After having exposed to sex, as I said above, I used to watch their sexual parts, which get exposed upon wet.
My sexual desire might be the reason for it.
The elders always take that kind of bath easily and never bother if anyone is watching them.
They think that we all are kids.
Some of the kids, like me, are however not kids actually.
I even enjoy watching Musalmān ladies’ sexual parts, as I stay very close to them.
First time I really got very much excited when I saw my Hindu grand father’s manly body, a good physique; while he was taking bath at well.
His Hindu waist, wide chest with full of hair… Even at that time I never feel guilty at all, watching directly standing in front of him.
Why should I?
It was routine there.
So I stood behind the nearby door, not noticeable to anyone.
After his bath he started drying his wet Hindu body with a towel and I could see all his sexual parts.
Yā Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! so thick and long Uncut Hindu Cock with very big and tightly rounded balls… as he dressed up I just pushed off from there, but I could not forget his thick and long hanging manly rod.
And actually I did it when my Grandfather was sleeping alone and his wife had to attend some females came to meet her.
I thought it a golden opportunity and just sneaked into my Hindu Grandfather’s bedroom there.
He was sleeping.
I just undressed him fully.
Undressed myself too.
Then started to play with his great Uncut Hindu Penis.
He was in deep slumber.
I started to suck my Grandfather’s Hindu Penis hungrily.
It was my dream Penis since I saw it.
I sucked him for hours.
I knew he could not wake because he was too tired to wake.
He had fucked the Musalmān Beauties of various age groups who had come there from nearby cities and villages to enjoy sleeping with him.
After sucking his extra ordinary
Hindu Penis as much as I wanted, I mounted on his nude Hindu male body, positioned his Hindu Penis between my quivering labial Saůūdī Årab Musalmān lips, and pressed..
Gradually, with utmost difficulty however, it vanished there to the hilt.
I could not be so lucky.
Yet, I was.
He was still sleeping in deep slumber.
I climaxed on him countless times.
Then his Hindu Penis started to swell into me.
I fucked my Grandfather, thus, daily, as much as I wanted, till we remained there.
At the end of vacation we came back to our working place.
Whenever I look at my Hindu grandfather, not only his bathing scene and his extra ordinary genital Hindu organ come to my mind, but every moment when I fucked him was also alive for me.
I did never feel embarrassed.
I enjoyed it instead, very much.
If some persons call it incest, let them go to hell.
He is NOT my REAL grandfather, I already said.
Then how is it incest?
One day, after my parents left for something in the morning, I locked my room and started watching sex pics.
Grand father was still sleeping.
He fucked his Muslim women till he was tired, and then he slept.
It was his routine.
After some time, I listened a knock on the door, and I opened it throwing the sex book in hurry.
My grandfather came to my room and started chit chat…
He asked me to prepare coffee for him.
When I came back with coffee, I saw the sex book in his hands.
I felt like fainted.
I was trembling…
I did not look at him.
I put the cup on the table and said I have to go to vegetable market and came out of the room as if I did not notice the book in his hand.
When I came out of my room my grandfather sauntered authoritatively to me and asked me to come inside the room.
He showed me the sex book and asked me if it was mine, with some seriousness and authority.
As I felt helpless to my guilt, I pleaded him not to tell this matter to my parents, and said that I will throw it away and I will not see such books again.
Then he exploded his bombshell,
“And what about what you did with me every day when I was sleeping?” He asked curtly.
I was stunned.
So he was not sleeping?
He was awake?
“Dadaji, I’m sorry. I– I lost my head. I lost my mind.”
“I kept it secret, because I thought you were a good girl otherwise. But if you go through these materials—”
I rushed to him and hugged his feet,
“My parents will kill me, Dadaji! They are not as ultra modern as you are. They are not as liberal as you are. They are not as considerate, as you are.”
“Åāýéshah Ħasan ! Should have you done it with me? I loved you like my own granddaughter, and you—-”
“Dadaji, I want to marry you.”
“Dadaji! You are not my real grandfather. Why can’t we both be husband and wife if I’m dying to have you as my husband?”
“Even if I agree, it’s not possible.” he said gravely.
“Dadaji! I want to be my Daadi too.”
“It’s not possible, I say.” Dadaji said gravely again.
I said bitterly,
“They are mad as the other teens are. That age group is blind for love and sex, and unable to develop mature ideas about life, being legally authorized for sex recently.”
“I don’t think so.” Kulsoom Ibrāhīm interrupted.
“I think the teens are more sincere for love and sex. As women age, they think of other things more than pure love and pure sex. The teens are mad for you. It means you can give them more pure love and more pure sex than even the boys of their own age group. “
“Bosh and nonsense!”
“I don’t agree with you.” Kħadeejah Muħammad announced, “I agree with Kulsoom Ibrāhīm.”
“Me too.” Sidrah Aħmad said sincerely.
“Durgesh!” Maħmood said, “I think the teens are crazy to have sex with you for one more reason. They have ‘experienced and more secure’ sex with you, than with the immature foolish boys of their own age group. They fuck them and forget, but you fuck them and remember.”
“Your 60 years old athletic Hindu body has more lust for them than the foolish boys of their own age group.”
“Well, I feel more comfortable with the Musalmān Beauties of my own age group.” I commented.
“But the teens, twenties and even thirties are more comfortable with you.” Kulsoom Ibrāhīm winked at me lewdly, shamelessly.
“Because,” Kħadeejah Muħammad said thoughtfully, “I think, you give them everything they want, yet take nothing from them in return.”
“Why not?” I argued, “I use their younger female bodies to satisfy my own extra ordinary unquenchable lust. Isn’t that taking everything from them.”
“I think, NO.” Kħadeejah Muħammad said.
“You fuck them like a bear gone mad. But, that’s what they want from you.”
Kħadeejah Muħammad giggled, and returned to the subject,
“Thank you, Durgesh! For what you say about us, women of your own age group I mean. We are honored. But you can’t neglect them.They love you fiercely.”
“They are old enough to be my granddaughters.”
“Well, they are NOT your granddaughters. Why imagine irrationally then? The foolish boys of their own age give them less and want more from them. They even want to dominate the girls’ own individuality. Something you never want from anyone. And, your body is so athletic, still now; that if you dye your hair, none can tell you are more than 30 years.”Kulsoom Ibrāhīm said.
Kħadeejah Muħammad winked at me,
“The teens are providing you self confidence and energy for remaining ever young, irrespective of your age.”
“Old scoundrel.” Maħmood laughed.
They all laughed with him.
Then Kħadeejah Muħammad said,
“Kħālidah says that Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain was wearing huge dark glasses so she can’t tell very much about her features.
“Kħālidah told me that Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain was wearing the dark glasses because she had been crying.”
“Nonsense! This Zubédah Sheikħ is so incurably romantic that even Kħālidah is being influenced by her incurable romanticism. How did Kħālidah know that Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain was crying?”
“Sālī!” I gritted through my teeth, “Let me stroke in out and in.”
“No, darling, it’s not needed at present.” Sidrah Aħmad winked at me, “Let me enjoy your entire ten inch throbbing into me and extending there beyond even ten inches . Just mount on me and rest.”
I squeezed her gorgeous nude Musalmān buttocks playing with them.
Everyone of them was surprised that it was lustiest in teen Musalmān Cunts.
Even they surrendered ultimately.
“Leave your Hindu semen now into my teen Sunni Muslimah vaginal depths, grandpa!” Åāýéshah Ħasan had pleaded, “My Sunni Muslimah Cunt is dying to have your mature Hindu semen filling it completely and even flowing out. You are fucking me for ten hours non stop. It’s all right now. I surrender, Mere Hindu Piyā!”
I controlled myself and returned to the present to comment on what Kħadeejah Muħammad had said,
“Leave it to Kħālidah, Kħadeejah! ‘Aristocratic bearing, slender, tapering Libyan Muslim fingers, well modulated voice Do you suppose, Kħadeejah! That by any chance Kħālidah has transposed the description of some heroine in Durgesh Muslimahs: the inseparables she was reading, to our visitor?”
Kħadeejah Muħammad smiled,
“I shouldn’t put it past Zubédah Sheikħ and Kħālidah Ůsmān. “
Zubédah Sheikħ laughed disapprovingly.
None paid any attention to her.
Kħadeejah Muħammad continued,
“Everyone when she reads those sites.” Zubédah Sheikħ commented.
All of us laughed.
What a Sunni Muslimah Beauty!
She was a mastermind nymphomaniac.
Yet, she wanted Hindu men only.
I smiled at Kħadeejah Muħammad,
“Open the handbag, Kħadeejah!”
Kħadeejah Muħammad opened it,
“Of course, we don’t know its hers.”
“Her behavior is rather odd.” I said, enjoying Sidrah Aħmad’s Sunni Muslimah vaginal depths and her throbbing ravenous impatient vaginal tightness around the entire length and thickness of my Hindu Penis, “She said she was going out for a few minutes only, that she felt she was in some danger. Then she does not come back, instead, she left her handbag here.”
Sidrah Aħmad chuckled,
“Libyan Muslim Beauty she is.”
Kħadeejah Muħammad thundered at her,
Kħadeejah Muħammad laughed.
Then she returned to the subject,
“The handbag is quite heavy, Durgesh! It may be full of gold coins.”
I regarded the exterior of the bag thoughtfully,
“Open it.” I ordered.
Kħadeejah Muħammad opened the bag, started to reach in, and then jerked her hand back.
“What happened?” I asked.
Before Kħadeejah Muħammad could answer, my mobile rang.
Kħadeejah Muħammad answered it,
She listened a moment.
Then placed her palm on the transmitter, turned to me, and said,
“An Åbdullāh Imām, an attorney, says he wants to talk with you about the Khandelwal case.”
I extended my hand to her for my mobile.
Then on mobile, I said,
The man’s voice said,
“I’m representing Deepak Khandelwal. And I understand you are representing his wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, in connexion with the property settlement.”
So, it was the reason she was here.
“Who gave you that impression, Imām Sāħab?”
“Nevertheless you fight savagely in courts to protect the interests of Musalmān Beauties.” Åbdullāh Imām said bitterly, “Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt! Hindu Husband of Musalmān Beauties! Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam! We all know you very well how dangerous you are.”
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
30. Sālī, Ammījān!
44. Hell, I revolt
64. I live with him
More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:
13. Eidul Fitr-1
Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi:
18. Saamved: Mantr 1