Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire 2Posted: August 5, 2011
Durgesh Sābirah Jahāngīr
It started the day she got a raise.
She came home so happy, she wanted to celebrate.
After all, it wasn’t just the raise; it was her independence, she was celebrating.
Ever since her divorce, doubt had nibbled at the corners of her mind.
Could she make it on her own?
Would her ex’s parting words prove true?
“You’re too stupid to ever earn a decent living.”
Well, she hadn’t been too stupid, and now she had a raise, and now, she wanted to celebrate.
She opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a big glass.
She called in me and poured me a glass of juice too.
She wanted to share her good fortune with someone, and I was handy.
Together we sipped wine and juice, laughed, and talked about how to spend the extra cash.
It wasn’t that much money.
She hadn’t won the lottery.
But the money would pay for a luxury now and then.
That made us both happy.
One bottle led to a second, and by then, neither of us really wanted dinner.
We toasted and planned and got more drunk.
Until I passed out.
She deceived me in drugging my juice deliberately.
She wasn’t quite sure when it happened.
One Moment , I seemed fine, and the next I was slumped in my chair, my body sprawled, my legs sticking out my gym trunks, my mouth slack and open.
She knew I had passed out.
She had seen that often enough, whenever some ravenous Musalmān Beauty wanted to fuck me even against my will, and drugged my juice deliberately.
And it was her job then to try and wake me, get me to bed.
She grabbed my arm and talked to me, but I wouldn’t rouse.
I simply sat there inert but still handsome.
She couldn’t deny that one gift, her ex had insisted she had to have.
Najmul Ħasan was a Western minded Musalmān.
He agreed to divorce her on only one condition.
She would never live alone.
The business would be in my name, and in the big mansion, she had to live with me.
The look softened her for a Moment, and a pang of regret shot through her.
They had had good times.
They had had fun.
And in bed…well, she had never been disappointed there.
Maybe she missed that part most.
She missed those sweaty sessions between the sheets. Grabbing him, stroking him, holding….
She involuntarily looked at me, at my Hindu crotch.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had heard so much about my unique Hindu sexual prowess from her friends.
Was I really endowed as I was talked of?
She looked, wondered, and fought the urge to check.
Allah, what if I was, what then?
Had she been sober, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān probably would have laughed and gone to bed, but she wasn’t sober.
She was full of confidence and wine, and I had passed out.
Perhaps she should check me out.
Who would ever know?
She laughed as she sank to her knees in front of me.
If she did this right, I would never even suspect.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pulled open a leg of my trunks and pushed her hand up my thigh.
A nice, athletic Hindu thigh.
Who said Durgesh was twelve years only?
He couldn’t be less than eighteen at least.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pushed past my boxers and found my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Yes, it was much like as it was said to be.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered if she could make it hard.
She stroked me, lightly.
The way she knew Najmul Ħasan liked it.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered if I could even get it up while passed out.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān supposed I could.
Didn’t men get hard and soft during the night while we slept?
Didn’t it have a mind of its own?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān stroked a bit more, and Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was rewarded.
She felt it start to expand, which emboldened her.
She rubbed a bit harder and squeezed, pulling it down my thigh and toward her.
Allah, it was filling rapidly, getting hard in her hand.
Allah, if anyone could see her.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pushed away the thought and pushed up my shorts, exposing the head that was sooo soft and yet hard, simultaneously.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān stroked and watched it grow, and she knew I was bigger than Najmul Ħasan even.
Bigger, harder too, from what Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān could tell.
And I looked…pretty.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had never really studied an Uncut Hindu Lund before.
Najmul Ħasan had a cut Musalmān nūnī only.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān supposed it was because most men didn’t really want it studied when it was in that state.
They wanted to use it.
But if they knew how good it looked to women, they would be less insistent on using it and more amenable to letting women stare and study and get aroused by the mere sight.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān studied it, and it reminded her of a King Cobra, a Brown King Cobra in a tutu—Allah, what a thought that was, like it was some kind of dancer.
What purpose did that serve?
Designed to please a Musalmān woman, make her want sex more?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān smiled to herself.
How otherwise could have it happened?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān supposed everything about it, was designed to please a woman, make mating more pleasurable.
If it felt good, wouldn’t a woman be more receptive?
Wouldn’t that assure the propagation of the species?
Stiff with something to stimulate a woman, yes, that was what it was all about.
And this one was full and brown and as hard as Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had ever seen one.
But despite the hardness, the skin was soft.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān could feel her heart beating through the blood pumping through it.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān concentrated on it for a Moment.
My heart was pumping right along, young and strong.
What a wonderful thing to have, a young heart and a Hindu erection like this.
Wow, no wonder the young were envied.
She ran a nail over my head and felt it shiver.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān thought she might be able to study it for hours, but that would be crazy.
No, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had to end her study before I woke or something happened.
She didn’t want a problem.
She leaned forward and kissed the tip, lightly, tenderly.
Then, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pulled down my shorts and stood.
I slept so peacefully.
Her eyes wandered down to the King Cobra in my shorts.
She resisted the temptation and went off to her room.
But she didn’t sleep, not at first.
She lay still as the King Cobra vision played across her mind.
She found it incredibly stimulating as she supposed Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was designed to do.
As sleep stole over her, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān smiled.
In the morning, she found me in my bed, which meant I had awakened during the night.
As Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān woke me, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered if I was hard under the covers, half wanting to check.
I groaned and moaned, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān woke me anyway and went down for coffee.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was sipping when I walked in, ready for University.
With a kiss on her cheek, I was gone, but not before the King Cobra vision flashed in her brain.
A vision, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t banish right away.
Work was work, and despite the stress and her wishes, she found herself reliving the night before at Moments.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t do it on purpose, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t help remembering it neither.
She remembered how it looked and felt how she made it hard and ready.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t dwell on the images, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t quite banish them either.
Not even at lunch with Nādirah Arzumand Bābar.
Nādirah Arzumand Bābar was another divorcee, but Nādirah Arzumand Bābar was different in that she claimed to date very young Hindu men.
‘Barely legal’ was her way of describing us.
Nādirah Arzumand Bābar said we had huge advantages over older Hindu men.
Why not let everyone enjoy, after all, as one damn pleases?
The young Hindu studs got hard easily, had great stamina, and loved sex.
If they came too quickly, well, that was a hazard that could be overcome by making them do it twice.
They recovered quickly.
Also, Nādirah Arzumand Bābar said that if she could give us our first blow job, she owned us.
We would do anything for the second one.
While Nādirah Arzumand Bābar described her latest conquest, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān thought about the King Cobra.
Were young Hindu men really so good?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t know, and more than likely Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān would never find out.
After work, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān called home.
I was going to a party with my friend Shankar Mahāpralayankar, so Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān decided to go to a movie with Nādirah Arzumand Bābar.
After, they stopped for a drink; Nādirah Arzumand Bābar flirted with the young Hindu waiter.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was a bit put off, but Nādirah Arzumand Bābar was in her element, half seducing the young Hindu man.
He was cute and maybe in good shape, but he certainly wasn’t buff.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was willing to bet he wasn’t hung either.
Why did that vision keep inserting itself into her mind?
Why was Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān dwelling on it?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wasn’t.
At least Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān told herself she wasn’t.
A message waited for her at home.
I was staying the night with Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
She brushed her teeth, slipped into bed and entertained the King Cobra vision for only a Moment before she went to sleep.
Saturday meant laundry, which Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān started with the usual lack of enthusiasm.
While sorting, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān came across the shorts I had worn the night Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān touched it, and by chance, she noticed a stain, a stain she recognized.
Every wife knew that stain, that male stain.
It was as clear as day.
I had had a dream, the dream had led to ejaculation, and this was the result.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t help but wonder if she herself had had anything to do with it.
Had her handling me caused the dream?
Or was it the wine mixed with my juice?
She shouldn’t have done the mischief.
If I don’t like wine, why don’t the Musalmān Beauties, including herself, let it go at that?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered, and as Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered, the vision invaded her mind once again.
With the vision came a wave of heat.
The idea that Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had caused me to…well, the idea floated her boat as the kids liked to say.
With a last look, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān tossed the shorts into the washer.
Did Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān possess that kind of power?
After laundry, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān went outside to work in the garden.
Of course, the property was now in my name, but I was still devoted to her.
Najmul Ħasan had a great faith in me, yet I refused to leave Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān alone.
“Abbū is not leaving her, Durgesh.”Āsiyah Najmul Ħasan had argued, “Yet, she is adamant to separate from him.”
“Your Abbū is turning to be a communal day by day.” Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had charged.
Najmul Ħasan only smiled.
But Āsiyah Najmul Ħasan was furious.
“Insisting to have the property in the name of a Hindu? Of course Abbū couldn’t be more communal, Ammījān.”
“Najmul Ħasan can do anything to avoid his property in my own name.” Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had barked at her daughter, “Peruse the property settlement first, carefully. Durgesh has to support me entire my lifetime, but even he can’t transfer this property ever in my name.”
“Because Abbū wants to protect you from yourself too.” Āsiyah Najmul Ħasan shouted, “Can’t you see? He still loves you.”
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān laughed ironically.
The work was something she enjoyed.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was on her hands and knees in the bed, when she glanced over her shoulder and found me looking at her.
I grinned as if I had just walked up.
And if I had, why was that exciting too?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān drove the thought from her mind as Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān told me to cut the lawn.
I stripped off my shirt as I went to the garage, and she admired my Hindu body.
Tanning while mowing was my motto.
She finished and went inside.
As Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān sipped lemonade, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān watched me mow.
Back and forth, green grass spewing out; I looked very good to her.
The King Cobra vision popped into her mind, the heat rippled.
She found herself wondering if she had caused me to dream.
Why did Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān think of that?
Shaking her head, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān went to fold laundry.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was delivering the laundry when I came out of the shower in nothing but a towel.
I scampered into my room but not before Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān checked out my Hindu ‘package’, a package Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was now even more than merely familiar with.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān chided herself for even looking, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t help herself.
The vision, it was the vision that drove her.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān drove the desire to invade my room and disappeared into her own.
How had she managed to be there right when I came out of the shower?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān told herself she hadn’t planned it.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān half expected me to ‘happen’ along when she emerged from her shower in her robe, but I wasn’t there.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wasn’t disappointed.
How could she be?
That would be crazy.
What was she expecting, a peeping son?
We met in the kitchen and exchanged plans.
I was going to a party with Shankar Mahāpralayankar, my friend.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was going out with Nādirah Arzumand Bābar.
We would meet back home later.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān ended up at a dance place, where Nādirah Arzumand Bābar fawned over young Hindu men and older men plied Nādirah Arzumand Bābar with drinks.
She accepted the drinks, danced a little, and turned down the offers for something more.
A few sweaty minutes in the parking lot or with someone with beer, breath wasn’t her idea of a ‘good time’.
A couple of them rubbed their hips on her.
Once Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān detected a Hindu erection, she found herself comparing it to mine. Not even, close.
I was so much bigger and harder.
‘Shukr hai Allah kā’, she sighed.
The vision filled her head even as Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān danced.
Nādirah Arzumand Bābar picked up a likely young Hindu man, a kid in Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān’s eyes, which gave Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān a reason to go home early.
The place held nothing Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wanted.
Home was actually welcome as Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān tossed her keys on the table.
Why did she let Nādirah Arzumand Bābar drag her to places where the footwear of choice were cowboy boots?
She laughed and poured herself a glass of wine, and was halfway through it before I hobbled in.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar supported me, and pain filled Mine face.
“Ankle,” I said as I hopped past, straight to my room.
She followed and watched Shankar Mahāpralayankar help me into bed.
I moaned as Shankar Mahāpralayankar jammed a pillow under the offending ankle.
Then, with a guilty smile, Shankar Mahāpralayankar vanished, leaving me to tell the tale.
We had been playing pickup basketball, and I had been showing off, dunking the ball.
I came down on someone’s foot, and tI ankle folded.
No one’s fault just happened.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar had wrapped tI ankle and given me some ibuprofen, but it still throbbed.
But nothing to worry about really, just a bad sprain.
She retrieved a bag of ice and the painkiller Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had taken when sI broke her foot the year before.
The prescription called for a single pill, but I wanted two.
I was bigger I argued.
Besides, I needed sleep.
She acquiesced and watched me down the pills.
I was wearing baggy gym shorts and Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān half peeked up my thigh.
Was the king Cobra up there?
Shaking the thought from her mind, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān patted me on the head and left.
What a night.
First a bunch of loser cowboys and now an ankle.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān watched TV for an hour before she checked on me.
The ice bag had fallen to the side, and my ankle had slipped off the pillow, but I was asleep, so asleep I didn’t make a sound or move when she lifted my ankle for replacing the pillow.
So asleep, I didn’t flinch when she ran her hand up my leg.
So asleep, I didn’t stir when Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān slipped her fingers beneath my shorts.
So asleep, I didn’t quiver when her fingers found the king Cobra.
Bolder than before, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pushed up my shorts and had me aroused in what seemed Moment s.
And just as before, she found herself staring at me, at my size, at my stiffness.
What a wonderful Hindu erection I had.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān stroked and felt and squeezed.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān touched that sensitive place underneath the collar or tutu as she liked to call it.
She rubbed it with her palm and rubbed her fingers across the top, across the hole.
For some reason, it felt wonderful to handle me, to touch and feel and use.
Why was that?
I was I for crying out loud, why did she like touching me?
Because I was a man.
That simple truth struck her full in the psyche.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was programmed to like men, all men, all stiff Hindu erections that could impregnate her.
Her genes were the reason and the cause.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t help it.
There was nothing taboo about her DNA, just her thoughts.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān would like handling all men, all sperm making machines.
But she especially loved this one.
This was the nicest one Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had ever seen.
Big, straight, as hard as steel, it teased her in a way Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t explain.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wanted it, wanted in ways an Ammījān shouldn’t think about ever.
And that caused her to pull down my shorts and hide the king Cobra but not before Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān took the tip in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān mouth and sucked just a bit.
The desire to do more raced through her, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān stopped herself.
A last lick and down with the shorts and out the door before Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān could no longer control herself.
That night, she masturbated for the first time in a long time.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān closed her eyes, envisioned the king Cobra and rubbed herself until an orgasm rippled through her.
It felt soooo good, and it was because of the king Cobra.
She loved the moistness between her legs, licked her lips and fell asleep.
Sunday was a slow day.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān woke fixed coffee and breakfast and served me in my room.
She unwrapped my ankle to check the swelling.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered about the other swelling I had.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered if I had had another wet dream.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was half tempted to chase the king Cobra in its lair, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t find the nerve.
Instead, she rewrapped my bruised ankle and left before the wave of heat caused her to do something really dumb.
The rest of the day, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān did some chores, left to shop for groceries and generally took care of me.
I couldn’t really put any weight on my foot, so I watched TV in my room.
She avoided me for the most part.
The king Cobra vision appeared every time Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was near, and Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t need that distraction.
Twice Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān helped me into the bathroom.
Arm around my waist, supporting me, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wondered if Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān could cop a feel somehow.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān considered offering to hold it for me while I went.
She almost laughed at the idea, perhaps would have laughed had not the vision popped into her head.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wouldn’t be aiming just me; Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān would be aiming the king Cobra.
Luckily, I could handle that chore on my own.
After dinner, she asked if I wanted something for pain, and I said I would take one, which left her with a dilemma.
Two pills had knocked me out completely.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān debated for a Moment before she emptied a single capsule into a dish of ice cream.
The other Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān gave me with water.
Then, as I gobbled the ice cream, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān went to the family room to wait.
The next hour passed very slowly for her.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān tried TV and reading, but every few seconds her mind focused in on the vision, and she found herself wondering if I was asleep yet.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān tried to keep her anxiety in place, but it wasn’t easy.
Something inside her had changed, and Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wasn’t as cool as before.
At the end of an hour, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān tiptoed down the hall and peeked.
I was asleep.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t presume I was ready for her manipulations, so Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān tried to wake me.
I was sound asleep, under the influence of drugs, and that brought a smile to her face.
With familiar speed, she reached up my shorts to coax out the king Cobra.
She felt bold and breathless as Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān stroked me to hardness.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pulled it out as far as possible and played with it afresh, touching and stroking and pulling and squeezing.
The king Cobra in a tutu looked delicious to her.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t care how or why, just that it did.
She liked it, loved it, felt warm and tingly with it.
With a sudden thought, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pulled up her shirt and exposed her breast.
Delicately, she rubbed the king Cobra across her nipple, and it made her shiver.
She let the king Cobra feast on her breast, touching it everywhere, teasing the nipple until it was as hard as the king Cobra itself.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had always wanted to do that with a man, but no man had ever allowed her such freedom.
No man had ever managed to hold off long enough to let her play.
It was all business with them, not the stuff of fantasy.
Where Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had been timid the other times, this time, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pleased herself on me.
Sucking, licking, taking me deep, she used the king Cobra over and over.
She loved the steady pulse of blood along it, how it filled her tremendously striking Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān mouth, how it made her want more.
This was exactly how Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wished she had been introduced to sex, to men.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān would have loved to have one to experiment with, to practice on, to explore at her leisure.
Because having it this way was better than any way Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had ever tried.
Being able to gnaw me to her content proved more stimulating than anything.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān glanced over and stopped.
The window reflected a woman, and Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān hardly recognized herself.
The woman in the glass with one bare breast and protruding nipple wantonly sucked a large male member, and Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had the disheveled look of a hussy, a woman in need of what the member had to offer.
That woman, what would anyone say if they saw that woman, that Ammī doing this to her son?
What sort of creature had sI become?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was shocked.
Lust had transformed her into the woman in the glass, into the woman in need, the woman full of desire.
Was that really her?
Was she really doing this to me?
What had sI become?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān started to pull away.
And at that Moment, I began to shoot.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān shouldn’t have been surprised, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was.
Hot, thick man syrup was pumping into her tremendously striking Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān mouth, stopping her for a Moment.
But just a Moment.
Forgetting the woman in the glass, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān sucked hard and pumped with her hand and took every drop of my Hindu Vīrý I possessed.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān held me till the king Cobra stopped spitting, till it began to shrivel into a worm.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān held me till she was certain I had no more, and then with triumph, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān swallowed.
I couldn’t see, I would never know, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān did, and she liked it.
She loved it.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t remember a better completion to the act.
Damn, it was the hottest thing Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had ever allowed herself to experience.
Trembling, she returned the shriveled King Cobra to its den, adjusted herself, and slid off the bed.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wasn’t sure she could walk, but she managed.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān drifted down the hall to her room where she opened a bureau drawer and fished in the back where her fingers found an old vibrator Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had bought when first divorced.
It hadn’t brought the kind of satisfaction Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had needed, and even now, it wouldn’t work.
It needed new batteries.
But Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t care.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān stripped naked, lowered herself to the bed and then she used the vibrator as she had wanted to use the king Cobra .
Knowing I slept, she moaned and called out my name and rode the vibrator until perspiration coated her skin.
Eyes closed, picturing the king Cobra , Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān worked and worked until the orgasm exploded inside her.
And as soon as it subsided, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān went back to work until a second one nipped on the heels of the first.
It felt so good.
Not as good as real but good.
At lunch the next day, Nādirah Arzumand Bābar crowed about her latest conquest, a 20 year old she had picked up at a coffee shop.
She made him lick her till she came and then sucked him off.
The thing was he didn’t look 20; he looked more like 17 that was a real turn on.
He looked younger than me.
As Nādirah Arzumand Bābar spoke, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān pictured me, that wonderful Hindu erection that Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had used.
I was so much better than the boys Nādirah Arzumand Bābar encountered.
Nādirah Arzumand Bābar laughed and asked if Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān were ill, as her cheeks were flushed.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān demurred, unable to tell Nādirah Arzumand Bābar the real source of her blush.
If she only knew.
When she reached home, I was hobbling around the house, and it was clear I wouldn’t be taking any pain medication that night.
When she asked how I slept, I gave her a sardonic grin.
I had slept well, but my dreams were weird.
I wouldn’t say, but I blamed the drugs.
Another reason not to take anything before bed.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān considered drugging me again, but that seemed too extreme.
Pain medication for my ankle was one thing.
Pain medication to reduce me to her plaything was quite another.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had to draw a line somewhere.
After dinner, she busied herself with housework, something to keep her mind from dwelling on the king Cobra in a tutu, anything to keep her mind from dwelling.
When I kissed her good night, her body shivered.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān could have reached out and touched that with which Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was now familiar.
But Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān didn’t.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān held together.
And later, when Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān went to bed, she replaced the batteries in the vibrator.
While it didn’t bring the satisfaction of the night before, it allowed her to close her eyes and relive her charming of the cobra.
That’s how Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān saw it, charming the cobra.
The vision stuck with her over the next week.
While not on her mind constantly, it popped to the front at odd Moment s.
During work, at lunch with Nādirah Arzumand Bābar, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān would be perfectly attuned to what was going on, until the vision burst into her consciousness.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān would feel a rush, a wave of heat, a desire Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān thought she had left behind years before.
She always managed to tamp down the memory, but Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t erase it.
The king Cobra lived in her mind now.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t eradicate it.
And she found herself sneaking peeks at me.
When I emerged from a shower, at night lying on the couch, in the morning when Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān woke me, she always managed to check the ‘King Cobra ‘, to see if it was alive and well.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān told herself she didn’t do in on purpose, that she just happened along, but she knew that was a lie.
Part of her planned the encounters all along.
Part of her wanted to find a way to put me asleep and duplicate what Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had done before.
Yet, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t find a way.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān couldn’t very well get me drunk every night.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had almost given up on ever playing with the king Cobra again when Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān came upon the computer file.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wanted to send an email to a friend, and when she tapped a key, the virus checker said Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had an infected file.
Did Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān want to delete it?
Well, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān did, but not before she read the file and determined what Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān was deleting.
So, she opened the file and found a chat log, a file of online messaging.
Pretty dull stuff, Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān thought, until Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān saw the screen names—DURGESH FUCKING SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR and SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR FUCKING DURGESH.
What was that all about?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān started reading, and her eyes widened.
The log was a record of the online chat between DURGESH FUCKING SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR and SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR FUCKING DURGESH, and the topic wasn’t a medical condition or submarines.
What these two talked about was incest, Ammī-son incest, and it wasn’t just idle chat.
This was obviously role play where DURGESH FUCKING SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR played the dominant son while SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR FUCKING DURGESH played a passive Ammī.
And what they described was sex in a way Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had never dreamed of.
What SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR FUCKING DURGESH said Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān wanted done to her, and what DURGESH FUCKING SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR was willing to do constituted visions Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān had only heard about.
The graphic descriptions sizzled on the screen as both DURGESH FUCKING SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR and SĀBIRAH JAHĀNGĪR FUCKING DURGESH responded to the play.
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān could almost hear the grunts, moans, and screams as they took their sexual encounter higher and higher.
It was as if Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān were peeping through a window at these two, until they both claimed an orgasm.
What did that mean?
Could they really masturbate while they chatted online?
Was that possible?
Sābirah Jahāngīr Ammījān licked her lips and read to the end, the really interesting part.
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
22. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–18
23. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–19
24. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–20
29. A secret Smile
36. Sālī, Ammījān!
50. Hell, I revolt
70. I live with him
79. Under Open Sky
87. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-13
88. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-14
89. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-15
99. Ahl-Al Bayt 7
105. Ahl-Al Bayt 13
106. Ahl-Al Bayt 14
107. Ahl-Al Bayt 15
108. Ahl-Al Bayt 16
109. Ahl-Al Bayt 17
110. Ahl-Al Bayt 18
111.Ahl-Al Bayt 19
112. Ahl-Al Bayt 20
113. Ahl-Al Bayt 21
114. Ahl-Al Bayt 22
115. Ahl-Al Bayt 23
116. Ahl-Al Bayt 24
117. Ahl-Al Bayt 25
118. Ahl-Al Bayt 26
119. Ahl-Al Bayt 27
120. Ahl-Al Bayt 28
121. Ahl-Al Bayt 29
122. Ahl-Al Bayt 30
124. The women in my life
145. She protested
147. The threesome
149. The Chairman: 1
150. The Chairman: 2
151. The Chairman: 3
152. The Chairman: 4
153. The Chairman: 5
154. An Underworld Don: 1
155. An Underworld Don: 2
156. An Underworld Don: 3
157. An Underworld Don: 4
158. An Underworld Don: 5
159. An Underworld Don: 6
160. An Underworld Don: 7
161. An Underworld Don: 8
162. An Underworld Don: 9
163. An Underworld Don: 10
164. Age no bar: 1
165. Age no bar: 2
177. The Extent: 3
178. The Extent: 4
179. The Extent: 5
180. The Extent: 6
181. The Extent: 7
182. The Extent: 8
183. The Extent: 9
184. The Extent: 10
185. The Extent : 11
186. The Extent : 12
187. The Extent : 13
189. The Extent : 15
190. The Audacity
191. The Audacity 2
192. The Audacity3
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
27. Pyār na dékhé ůmr:1
More 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
39. Saamved: Mantr 1