Ahal-Al Bayt-5Posted: May 3, 2010
The surprising rest
The hips flared prettily around perfectly-shaped tight globes.
The skin was milky white and unblemished save for the red blush where my hand had been massaging her.
She smiled when I massaged her there again, half-surprise in her voice, mixed with lustful excitement.
I could stare at this sight all day.
“I know…” she answered confidently, then winked at me teasingly and moaned once again.
She was comfortably crouched doggy-style, her knees spread to the side for balance and her head resting against her folded arms on my bed.
Alas, her husband Muħammad did not care for her optimum.
I was rewarded with extra whimpering coming out of Āyeshah Siddīqah‘s end of our coupling, and she managed to sneak one hand down to play with her own Sunni Musalmān Clit as she approached her climax.
“Oh, don’t stop. I’m gonna cum. Fuck me, Durgesh! Fuck me!” she cried urgently as she got up onto all fours, planting her palms against the bed and jerking her Sunni Musalmān body back against me with each push.
I ceased my Hindu rotations and gripped her hips in my hands, readying myself for the final stretch.
With metronomic precision, I thrust in and out of her rapidly, giving in to the wonderful feelings and bring about my own orgasm.
Åāýéshah beat me to it, grunting “Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” before her hips suddenly twitched violently, her Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Choot muscles clamping down all at once.
She screamed as she came.
I was still a little bit away from my own climax, but felt the tension leave my shoulders as I was now free to cum.
I pounded into her backside all through Āyeshah Siddīqah‘s orgasm, until she unexpectedly slid out from under me, my Uncut Hindu Cock wet and bobbing in the air as she turned about.
I whimpered in momentary disappointment, so close to the release I craved.
That was all it took as I grunted and then released, feeling my balls squeezing every ounce out of me as my Hindu pecker spurted jet after jet of hot Hindu Vīrý into the back of her Sunni Musalmān mouth.
Her large, perky Sunni Musalmān tits pointed up into the air, full and round despite being on her back.
When she caught her breath, Āyeshah Siddīqah’s brilliant blue eyes opened back up and fixed on me, a sparkle in her light irises.
When she was aroused they turned almost violet, but as she began to calm down the deeper blue seeped back in.
“Sorry about that. I know it caught you off guard.”
“I’ll say. I was in a panic, thinking you were going to tease me all night.”
“No, not teasing. But I didn’t want your spunk leaking out of me.” She got up and started looking for her clothing.
“I take it that means you’re not staying tonight?”
“No, I’ve got an early morning shoot. Maxim Magazine! And the last time we did this I left a wet spot on the taxi seat because of you.”
“Yeah, no problem. And uh, I’ve got a photo shoot too… for um… Cosmo…”
Āyeshah Siddīqah grinned and muttered, “Yeah, right.”
She stretched for a Moment, bending her extremely smooth beautiful Sunni Musalmān body back and forth and twisting her arms behind her in some pretzel fashion that showed off her amazing flexibility and simultaneously thrust her naked bosom outwards.
Catching my stare, Āyeshah Siddīqah smirked for a Moment.
Then she got dressed quickly and then gave me a short peck on the lips. “I’ll call you.”
And then she was gone.
Āyeshah Siddīqah rarely stayed with me overnight.
We had a great sexual chemistry, but we both knew I was just her booty call.
I was like the old, comfortable blanket she could always snuggle up to.
Then again, the sex was fantastic and I had nothing to complain about.
Still, it would be nice for her to appreciate me a little more.
I lounged around my bed for another few minutes, then finally got up and went to take a shower before going to sleep.***
My hand rested on the nightstand, two inches from the alarm clock I’d just attempted to crush.
The morning noise of a busy Vijay Nagar Jabalpur morning wafted in through the walls while I tried to shut my eyes and ears against an invasive weekday.
‘BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!’
Why was it still buzzing?
Then I noticed that the noise was coming from INSIDE my nightstand.
Bleary-eyed, I yanked open the drawer and found my cell phone, which was vibrating against the wood in silent mode.
I’d turned it down when Āyeshah Siddīqah had come over last night.
‘BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!’
After a few blinks, I managed to read the caller ID.
It was my Ammī Ħuzoor.
And it was 7 o’clock in the morning.
I didn’t want to pick it up at this early hour.
Still, she was my Ammī Ħuzoor, My of parents.
My Pitr’shrī was a Vedic Monotheist Hindu.
My Ammī Ħuzoor’d taught me to tie my shoelaces and helped me with my homework.
Ammī Ħuzoor generally took care of me my entire life.
The least I could do was answer the phone when she called me.
So I hit the TALK button and gingerly pressed the receiver to my head.
“Durgesh!” she exclaimed.
Well, it was a little more like ‘Durgesh’… my Ammī Ħuzoor ‘s accent wasn’t very good with sounds.
Then she blurted a harsh phrase in Arabic, telling me to wake up.
“I’m up, I’m up.”
“Durgesh, I have to tell you I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth a long time ago.”
That got my attention, and I could feel the last bindings of sleep breaking away as I sat up a little straighter in bed,
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry. But you’re going to be hearing a lot of things in the next few days. But you should know it is the truth. I should have told you before. Durgesh, I love you.”
“I love you too, Ammī Ħuzoor. But what are you talking about?”
There was no answer, and I no longer heard the faint buzz of feedback from an open cell connection.
“Hello? Ammī Ħuzoor ?” I ventured. “Hello?”
Nothing. And then a Moment later came the triple tone of CALL ENDED.
I cursed out my cell phone carrier.
The phone vibrated a second later and I instantly hit the TALK button.
“Ammī Ħuzoor ?”
“No, it’s Åāyeshah Siddīqah. Oh Allah! I can’t believe it! Can you believe it?”
Between my Ammī Ħuzoor and Åāyeshah Siddīqah, this was really starting to frustrate me.
“Believe what? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You mean you haven’t heard? They just announced it on the morning news!”
“Your father! He’s announced rest!”
She couldn’t have said what I thought she said…
“Oh for the sake of Allah.” Åāyeshah Siddīqah sounded annoyed at me now, “Turn on your TV. There are news crews right outside your apartment right now.”
I found the remote and hit the power button.
As the screen was flickering to life, my phone was buzzing at me again as I had another incoming call.
“Åāyeshah Siddīqah, it’s my Ammī Ħuzoor , I’ll call you back.”
I hit the button to switch calls to my Ammī Ħuzoor, and then my jaw hit the floor.
There really were news cameras outside my apartment.
The screen showed the front of my apartment building, two of the door attendants I recognized working hard to keep various media types away while various residents tried to sneak out and get on with their lives.
With typical Vijay Nagar self-centeredness, none of them even stopped to ask what was going on.
“Yeah, Ammī Ħuzoor. I’m watching the news.”
I could almost HEAR her close her extremely beautiful Sunni Musalmān eyes as she sighed,
“I should have told you.”
I was getting really annoyed.
This had gone on WAY too long.
SOMEBODY had to tell me what the hell was going on!
And as her words reverberated through my head, the answer scrolled across the screen.
Noted billionaire industrialist Vishvās Shakr Mānav announced rest almost a week ago.
An married Hindu playboy for decades, he’d been very visible hobnobbing with the Hollywood Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān elite, building his fortune through some successful movie producing in addition to his profitable corporations.
But that’s not what had television news vans blocking traffic outside my apartment this morning.
Lawyers had opened up his will, and apparently kept everything under wraps for the past week.
ME of course!
But why the announcement, damn it?
My Pitr’shrī is never incompetent physically.
Neither now, nor ever.
Yes, he’s 90.
But so what?
He appears to be 60 only at the most.
I’ve inherited the same genes from my father.
I too appear to be 31 only at my 61.
Then why the damn rest after all?
A famous guy taking unexpected rest would always be news.
But the fact that he’d left several BILLION dollars to a son made the story the headliner.
And then there were three photos on the screen.
To the left, 90-year old Vishvās Shakr Mānav, with his still black hair and equally black eyes. To the right, a pretty picture of my Ammī Ħuzoor from a few years ago. And in the middle, the official company photo of me acquired from my investment firm.
Now that they lined up all three of us, anyone could detect some physical resemblance. Same hairline, same cheekbones. I had my Ammī Ħuzoor’s eyes, although they were deep blue color opposite my father’s.
I’d gotten a great mix of both Asian and Arabian genes, and now everyone knew exactly where they’d come from.
“Durgesh!” my Ammī Ħuzoor was calling me through the phone.
I suddenly jerked out of my stupor and picked up the handset once again. “Tell me everything.”
Vishvās Shakr Mānav was a brilliant kid from the wrong side of the tracks with a hard determination to succeed.
They’d met and soon began dating.
It was the first real love for both of them.
They were careful to use protection, but even the best protection isn’t 100% guaranteed.
They’d disagreed on what to do when my Ammī Ħuzoor got pregnant, and in the end, it drove them to marry each other.
My Ammī Ħuzoor gave birth to me and settled with her Hindu husband.
Pitr’shrī wanted to have no risk, for his baby, that would slow him down in his quest to make it big in business.
Eventually, my Ammī Ħuzoor got her degree.
She used her intelligence and personal drive to forge a successful career, despite the demands of a baby. And she taught me her hard work ethic as well.
But while she took her child and moved on with her life, Vishvās Shakr Mānav never forgot the son he had fathered. When he made it big, he told my Ammī Ħuzoor what he had secured for both of us.
The two of them agreed that I didn’t need to have it right away.
Too many children of the wealthy became spoiled brats, wasting money on parties and drugs.
I was only ten years old, and both my Ammī Ħuzoor and Pitr’shrī wanted to see me succeed on my own.
Realistically, I was still given a lot of advantages.
My Ammī Ħuzoor was successful in her own right and we were never poor.
I didn’t have to struggle to pay for college.
And so without knowing how much money I would have to fall back on, I graduated, got my Bār at law, and found my own high paid legal, sex therapy and freelance writing job.
I was 27 and could afford my own Vijay Nagar Jabalpur apartment.
Yes, we had to shift from Seoni.
I was debt-free and financially stable.
I’d enjoyed my social life, but I’d never shown an inclination for drugs or other excess.
I was a responsible young man, and I didn’t need my Pitr’shrī’s money, even though it was always available to me.
The conversation took over an hour.
And when I was done, I realized I was very late for work.
I promised my Ammī Ħuzoor I would call her later.
She seemed sad, but strong.
I called my assistant Hudā at work.
She’d seen the news and told me to stay home for a few days.
Let the media circus blow itself out once they got bored.
“For what?” I asked her.
“Don’t try to act moderate. You’re worth several BILLION dollars right now.”
I’d spent the rest of Friday holed up inside my own apartment.
Various neighbors came by and tried to be sociable, mostly just looking to meet someone newly- famous.
Some of them I’d barely spoken to in the past, but now everyone were my friend.
It was a pretty Saturday morning, a great day to go out and enjoy the city, but I was still in my apartment.
And of all the curious neighbors who came to check me out, one of them caught my notice more than the rest.
She was very pretty young lady, and she had my attention from the Moment she stepped into the hallway.
I had been standing in my doorway, chatting up the neighbor who literally shared a wall with me.
He was an older gentleman who had ordered some Chinese delivery for me and steadfastly refused to let me repay him for it.
I couldn’t order myself without giving away my name and address, so he placed the call with his own credit card and building security had delivered it up to him.
He noticed my gaze had been averted and took the opportunity to escape before I could force some cash onto him.
And then the pretty Sunni Musalmān girl arrived.
Her light brown hair was tied back into a simple ponytail and she shyly kept her gaze downcast as she approached me.
She gave me a nervous smile while her hazel eyes perked up as she realized I was looking right at her.
“Hi…” I ventured, putting on my most charming grin.
“Hey…” she looked up at me and folded her arms over her chest.
This motion pressed her full cleavage together beneath a demure sweater, and I had to fight to keep my gaze on her face. “You’re Durgesh?”
“Pleased to meet you Durgesh.” She held out her hand politely, which I grasped and shook gently.
“I’m Ħadīs Aslam.”
Her hand felt so small and so soft. “I assume you live in the building?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m on the fifth floor.”
“Oh, ok. So you just came up to see what all the fuss was about?”
Ħadīs Aslam blushed prettily.
“I was just curious. So is it true? Mr. Vishvās Shakr Mānav, your father, has announced rest transferring almost his entire Economic Empire to you?”
“It would appear so. At least my Ammī Ħuzoor also reassures me that he has.”
“I congratulate you for your gains.” Somehow, the way Ħadīs Aslam said it made me believe she was truly happy for me.
In fact, everything about this Sunni Musalmān girl screamed shy, genuine honesty, a rare thing to find in this town.
“That’s okay. I mean, thank you.” I said.
She uncrossed her arms and waved them off to the sides in a helpless shrug.
I was taken aback by the sudden seriousness of our conversation.
I looked at her watchfully.
She smiled at me.
“I guess my own situation is what made me want to come up here and meet you. I’m sure there are a hundred more people just like us in this building alone.” And then Ħadīs Aslam laughed.
I was startled by the sound.
Her laugh was rich and melodious.
I could listen to her laughing all day.
Now I definitely wasn’t a person who believed in love at first sight ever.
The romantic in me wanted to believe it but the Vijay Nagar-realist in me denounced it as fantasy.
But there was… something… about this Sunni Musalmān girl that struck me.
Åāyeshah Siddīqah was gorgeous and stirred my loins from the Moment I saw her.
She was all slender curves and angular cheekbones and brilliant eyes.
But Ħadīs Aslam, while not surrendering much to Åāyeshah Siddīqah in the way of curves or physical attractiveness, just seemed so much more wholesome somehow.
“What’s so funny?” I ventured as Ħadīs Aslam was still giggling to herself while looking out at nowhere.
She giggled one more time before looking right at me.
“Well, I don’t suppose there’s many more single-parent kids who find out their dad just transferred to them a fortune!” She leaned against my doorpost with a healthy smile on her face, all traces of her early nervousness gone now.
“No, I suppose not.” I caught myself leaning in close to her, just casually slouched while standing up and yet so much closer to violating Ħadīs Aslam’s personal space.
Ħadīs Aslam looked at me, the two of us incredibly comfortable despite knowing each other for bare minutes. And just when I felt the urge to lean in and kiss her tender lips, Ħadīs Aslam blinked several times and then looked at her feet.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your life. Sorry for bothering you.”
And then a second later we were both standing straight up and a couple of feet further apart.
The Moment, whatever it was, was now gone.
“Not at all,” I told her. “The silver lining is that I finally get to meet the people I’ve been living next to for years. You’re welcome to come back anytime.”
Her extremely beautiful Sunni Musalmān eyes lit up at the idea.
“Maybe. I’ll see you around. Goodbye, Allah Ħāfiz.”
She turned around and headed back towards the elevator.
There was a connection there and I wanted to find out more.
Part of me wanted to find out what was underneath that baggy sweater and stylish jeans.
And yet thirty seconds later, Ħadīs Aslam turned the corner and was gone.
So I retreated back into my doorway.
My food was getting cold.
After days of camping outside my apartment, the media eventually figured out I wasn’t going to make an immediate statement.
And with nothing to report for hour after hour, the buzz quickly died down and everyone sort of moved on.
So today, I turned my cell phone back on and decided to venture out.
The first thing I wanted to do was get a serious meal without having to eat it at home.
But just as I was leaving the building, my cell rang.
Åāyeshah Siddīqah was livid.
“Durgesh darling, Mérī Jān! Méré Hindu Piyā! You promised you’d call me!”
“Sorry! I had to turn my phone off. Somehow every news network got my cell phone number.”
“Still…” Åāyeshah Siddīqah was not the kind of Sunni Musalmān girl who was used to waiting.
She’d been a gorgeous woman when I met her.
Well, it had held her attention for ever, till now at least.
She placed even her husband, Muħammad, now secondary for ever, me being the first.
I didn’t know how did it happen, but it was almost always there.
They hesitated to leave their Musalmān husband for me, but they never hesitated to put them secondary after me, me being the first.
Åāyeshah Siddīqah and I never stopped fucking once we started it.
She was a beautiful fashion model/actress who’d guest starred on a couple of primetime dramas.
I was her most reliable friend now with no strings attached.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy couple of days.”
“One would think you’d find a way to get in touch with your Sunni Musalmān girlfriend,” she whined.
“Sunni Musalmān girlfriend?” I snorted. “You’ve never been my Sunni Musalmān girlfriend.”
“And how do YOU know you were the last woman I slept with?” I replied teasingly. “I’ve been a popular guy ever since the story broke.”
“What the-? Well of course I’m-. Hey! That’s not funny!” she finally exclaimed when I began chuckling.
“Come on, Åāyeshah Siddīqah. I’ve ever been YOUR boyfriend. Though I thought, I’m your booty call. And I’m very happy to be even your booty call. Yes, I know, you’ve never had another boyfriend, except me, since we’ve known each other.”
” You’re the only special to me, Durgesh. We’ve been fucking for four years straight now. That’s gotta count for something. We could be so much more.”
It suddenly dawned on me what was causing her sudden change of heart.
“And I’m sure the reports of my bank account have nothing to bring to a new relationship.”
Now I could actually hear Åāyeshah Siddīqah blush on the other end of the line.
“Well, even before that I always knew we could end up together.”
“I would have liked it,” I told her honestly. But I’d also known she was too flighty to ever hold down for very long.
“Besides, think of how much more exposure and free press I could get if I were the Sunni Musalmān girlfriend of Durgesh, one of the richest men in India. At least go out with me a few times in public. It would be absolutely killer for my career.”
“No, Åāyeshah Siddīqah.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll convince you later. But will you at least meet me for lunch?” she asked.
Lunch was a quiet hole in the wall, not an easy thing to find in a busy place like Vijay Nagar Jabalpur.
The owners knew Åāyeshah Siddīqah and me.
I felt safe there.
Various regulars offered their congratulations over my gains I never knew while simultaneously joking about how I was going to spend all that money.
In a quiet corner of the Café, I was surprised that Åāyeshah Siddīqah didn’t immediately launch into her perfect reasoning for why we should become boyfriend/Sunni Musalmān girlfriend, at least for a little while.
Instead, Åāyeshah Siddīqah settled in to just enjoy some time with me.
I managed to begin a heartfelt talk about what was going through my mind.
Even after two days of nothing but thinking about the situation, I still had no clue how to move on with my life.
And ulterior motives or not, Åāyeshah Siddīqah could be a good listener when she wanted to be.***
I called happily.
“Kħadījah Muħammad! I’m home. It’s so good finally to be home. I had to stay an extra six weeks to work on my new novel. Everyone else left the beginning of June. Kħadījah Muħammad, Where are you?”
“I’m in the kitchen, Durgesh, Sweetie.”
“We passed a bunch of PETA demonstrations,” said I talking as I walked through the big house.
It was nothing new for me however.
Unlike others, I almost always saw so many naked Musalmān Beauties in my life.
Almost every city I drove through, there was someone protesting cruelty to animals while naked.
I didn’t see any signs, though, just people hanging around the parks naked.”
“Honey, that wasn’t PETA demonstrations. That was just people celebrating National Nude Day.”
“What Kħadījah Muħammad? I didn’t hear you.”
I walked in the kitchen with my best friend Åāyeshah Siddīqah while talking and laughing.
Due to continuous congratulations from my everultimate intimate Musalmān Beauties, we hadn’t seen one another since the day Pitr’shrī announced his surprise rest.
As soon as I entered the kitchen, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Kħadījah Muħammad was standing at the sink with her back to us rinsing vegetables for supper.
She was naked.
It was all I could say.
Åāyeshah Siddīqah looked at me and raised her hand over my eyes.
But I lowered her hand with my hand and stood gawking.
“Oh, for Allah’s sakes, it’s just a Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān female body you’re enjoying for so many years now. We all have one. In the way that you are both leering at me, you act like you’ve never seen a naked Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān woman before?”
“You’re not a Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān woman only,” I said. “You’re my Outqueen too. Put something on, yaar!” I said without removing my stare from her tits and trimmed tremendously stunning Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Pussy. “This is really enticing, but—” I said still gawking at her naked body.
“Well, I see you aren’t too embarrassed to stop yourself from staring at my tits and tremendously stunning Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Pussy.” She twirled around. “What do you think? Not bad for an old broad?”
“You’re hot, Kħadījah Muħammad. I’d do you.” said I quickly receiving a kick to the shin from Åāyeshah Siddīqah.
“Thank you, Durgesh. I’d do you, too, if it wasn’t for my pain-in-the-ass uptight darling,” Kħadījah Muħammad said giving me a wink.
“Kħadījah Muħammad! Where else am I supposed to look? It’s enticing to see you without your clothes.”
She did have an extremely beautiful body for a Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān woman in her sixties.
With only a bit of a muffin top around her middle, her B cup breasts hardly sagged at all and I couldn’t help but notice her trimmed enormously eye-catching Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Pussy.
I didn’t know where to stare, at her tits or at her tremendously stunning Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Pussy.
And it was when I was enjoying her almost always as much as I loved to.
When I felt the blood rushing to my Uncut everstanding Hindu Cock and swelling it, smiling that my naked Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Outqueen was turning me on, I tried maintaining eye contact with her while Åāyeshah Siddīqah still gawked at her.
I looked down at Åāyeshah Siddīqah.
She punched e in my shoulder.
“Ow, what was that for?”
“For getting a boner over your Kħadījah Muħammad, when I’m asking from you for me already,” she whispered.
I imagined making love to her.
I imagined her giving me a loving, Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Outqueenly blowjob.
“Give your Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Outqueen a hug. I haven’t seen you almost in nearly a year.”
I stood frozen while she walked to me and wrapped her arms around me.
When she tried giving me a peck on the lips, I smiled and she kissed me passionately.
“Are you too old to receive a kiss from your Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Outqueen? Can’t you give me a kiss?”
“Why not when my Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Outqueen is hugging me naked. Gees, Kħadījah Muħammad, how can you do this? I don’t know where to touch you without touching stuff.”
Wanting to touch her everywhere, I couldn’t decide where to put my hands.
I could feel my Uncut everstanding Hindu Cock stiffening while being pressed against my naked Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Outqueen’s belly.
I wondered if she felt it, too.
He was so excited.
“Oh, just wrap your arms around my back and hug me, you big goof. Squeeze me tight. Hold me. Give your old Saåūdī Årab Sunni Musalmān Outqueen a Hindu manly hug. I missed my man who has suddenly grown up to be a MB, a Multi Billionaire.” She looked down at my Hindu bulge. “Sorry, did I just give you that erection?”
“Kħadījah Muħammad! Really.”
Hug her? I wanted to do more than that.
I wanted to hump her right now.
I wanted to fuck her, but I couldn’t do anything.
Åāyeshah Siddīqah was there.
She wanted me to fuck her first.
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
23. A secret Smile
30. Sālī, Ammījān!
44. Hell, I revolt
64. I live with him
73. Under Open Sky
79. The Extent
98. Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah: Social Service: 6
More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:
13. Eidul Fitr-1
18. Main térī dīvānī
21. Majājī Kħudā: 1
22. Majājī Kħudā: 2
23. Majājī Kħudā:3
24. Majājī Kħudā:4
25. Majājī Kħudā: 5
26. Majājī Kħudā: 6
Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi:
9. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 6
10. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 7
11. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 8
12.R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 9
35. Saamved: Mantr 1
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