Ved Nagar: 42Posted: January 16, 2013
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed at Bābarah Åālamgīr.
Bābarah Åālamgīr grimaced.
She couldn’t digest Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s comment.
“I don’t think so.” Bābarah Åālamgīr said unappreciatively.
“Durgesh fucked you in trance? Hahaha.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed once more, “And you claim to be a successful journalist.”
“Stop ridiculing me.” Bābarah Åālamgīr said angrily, “Only because you are utmost successful young Musalmān Beauty now, you don’t have implied authority to ridicule the other successful young Musalmān Beauties.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
Bābarah Åālamgīr didn’t know what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan did.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan knew why Durgesh was so faithful to mature Musalmān Beauties aged enough to be his Ammīs even.
“Durgesh learned his practical sex from mature Musalmān Beauties aged enough to be his Ammīs even.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Bābarah Åālamgīr, “It was immensely problematic for me to make him to make love to us teenagers, twenties and early thirties Musalmān Beauties. Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad, Al Tawħīd, Rābiyah Altmash, Tajallī Jamāl Qurayshī, etcetera have trained Durgesh’s mind so much that Durgesh actually has an inherent obsession for them. He thinks whatever he is today in sex, he is due to Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad, Al Tawħīd, Rābiyah Altmash, Tajallī Jamāl Qurayshī, etcetera.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was awe stricken on this utmost secret revelation of my so utmost successful sexual life.”
“My Seven movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service, have actually made Durgesh available to us teenagers, twenties and early thirties Musalmān Beauties.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “especially Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh and Sixty One Eighteen in Love. Otherwise it was quite impossible for you, Bābarah Åālamgīr, to be a live in relationship partner of Durgesh the greatest, even in this Dream City, Ved Nagar.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was dumbfounded.*
The angry roar of screaming spectators filled the auditorium as they watched my opponent Musalmān Beauty caressed my nude Hindu buttocks patronizingly.
I had exploded ultimately into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Nādirah Islām Saåīd was still smiling.
Her tight Musalmān Cunt was still holding my exploded Uncut Hindu Lund.
“No chance, Imām Muħammad Ħasan,” Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr smiled sympathetically, “Your Hindu stud has failed.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was grave.
He didn’t say anything.
I fought to keep my Uncut Hindu Lund still still moving in out and in.
I succeeded in my attempts.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was still capable in fucking Nādirah Islām Saåīd.
But the fact was that I had exploded already.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was still fucking Sidrah Aħmad.
He hadn’t exploded into her.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the winner, not me.
I pushed and squirmed, but the fact was the fact.
The ref dropped to the mat beside us, watching for the pin.
I knew I was in trouble.
My parents watched each other as they looked on.
“Get up, Durgesh!” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī shouted. Her soft little voice drowned out by the crowd.
As I fucked Nādirah Islām Saåīd, I saw Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī in the stands.
She seemed to be doing an angry fighting within herself, as she looked on.
Yet, I couldn’t help but notice how her big boobs wobbled beneath her thin costly sweater as she did this.
I smiled to myself for a moment.
“What a time for a guy to have Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s boobs on the brain.” I thought.
It was true, eighteen year old I was obsessed with boobs and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī had the biggest rack of any Musalmān Beauty I knew.
Strangely, as I lay there, my Uncut Hindu Lund still burying deepest into Nādirah Islām Saåīd’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, I thought back on all the mornings that I sat at the breakfast table gawking.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī’s big braless Musalmān tits under her thin silk robe were the source of my many a morning hard-on.
I was suddenly jarred back into the present as the ref slapped the mat, announcing my defeat and Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s victory.
The crowd sighed in disappointment.
It was another lost sex match for me who wanted more than anything to be World Sex Champion.
Well, almost anything.
After the competition, I walked across the parking lot with my head still held high.
I fucked Nādirah Islām Saåīd longer than Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked Sidrah Aħmad.
Sidrah Aħmad was jealous of Nādirah Islām Saåīd and Nādirah Islām Saåīd was still proud of me that she always opted for me.
Durgesh is the best.
Yet Shankar Mahāpralayankar has again lasted longer into Sidrah Aħmad.
Sidrah Aħmad herself admitted,
“Durgesh is really the best into our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunts, but Shankar Mahāpralayankar stays longer. It’s second time Shankar Mahāpralayankar defeated Durgesh. Isn’t it?”
Nādirah Islām Saåīd charged Sidrah Aħmad furiously.
“You always help that Hindu scoundrel in staying longer into you. You are jealous of me that Durgesh always prefers me on you.”
Sidrah Aħmad laughed.
“Durgesh is damn more ethical than Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Shankar Mahāpralayankar never minds our free sex, but Durgesh criticizes us, at least.”*
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī had her arm around me as we walked side by side.
“You’ll get Shankar Mahāpralayankar next time, son.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said.
The heels of Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s sandals clicked against the payment, drawing my attention.
I was in love with Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s everything.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Lund stiffen at the mere sight of her.
Even her feet were soft and small with cute squatty little toes that were always freshly painted.
Her high-heeled sandals consisted of a couple of tiny straps that crossed the foot, just above the toes.
There were no straps in the back, leaving her sexy arched heels on open display.
We stopped at the car and while Imām Muħammad Ħasan got in and unlocked the doors, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī stood facing me.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī put her hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently.
Even with her heels on, I was few inches taller.
“Hey.” She said softly.
I looked up into Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s big brown eyes that seemed to gleam with love.
“Give me a hug, Hindu handsome.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī whispered.
It was like candy to my ears.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī moved forward and gave me a great big tit-squasher.
I let out a quivering sigh as I felt Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s soft spongy Musalmān sacks flatten against my young Hindu chest.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was no dummy.
She knew I was fascinated with her “little girls” as Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī liked to call them and that by crushing them against my Hindu chest as we embraced Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī would be helping to sooth the disappointing loss.
I said very little the rest of the evening.
I was thinking.
Is Sidrah Aħmad really helping Shankar Mahāpralayankar in defeating me?
Does she not digest my criticism of her wildest Hindu obsession?
Sidrah Aħmad believes every Hindu is better than a Musalmān for having sex with him.
Is she right?
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī does also believe in the same.
There are some other Musalmān Beauties too who too have the same faith.
But isn’t it communal and cruel too to reject one entire community for having sex with its mankind?
How these ravenous Musalmān Beauties can be correct?
I went straight to my room where I became absorbed into the world of Ashvinātam Sex.
Downstairs Imām Muħammad Ħasan was watching a ballgame.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī tidied up the kitchen as she spoke to her big sister on the phone.
“I don’t know, I feel so bad for Durgesh, Bājī, Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī. I mean, all Durgesh does is talk about wanting to be a World Sex Championion Competitor, but he hasn’t won one sex match so far this year.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī explained.
“Well, maybe he’s just not motivated enough, darling. I mean, the accomplishment of being World Sex Championion is long term. Maybe he needs some short term rewards to keep him motivated.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said.
“I could try that I suppose, but if he doesn’t involve in other things he probably won’t work for it.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said.
“Is there anything else you think he’d be willing to work for?” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī asked.
“Well, he is a teenager. A hot bubble bath with a big breasted cheerleader might do the trick.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī giggled.
“Okay then, this is what you do. Tell me that if he wins his next Sex Match, you’ll take off your bra and show him your Musalmān tits.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said.
“Are you crazy? Allah, Bājī, Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī, he’s my son.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī giggled.
“Yes, and he’s also a hormonal teenaged Hindu boy who can’t take his eyes off of those big Musalmān boobs of yours. You told me so yourself.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī laughed.
“Yes, I did and I fail to see how unclasping my bra in front of Durgesh is going to help remedy that obsession.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī answered.
“Allah! My God, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, you are such a prude. They’re just big Musalmān boobs. Do you want your Hindu son to win or not?” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī asked.
“Of course I want Durgesh to win.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said angrily, “I don’t like Shankar Mahāpralayankar has won Durgesh again. That Hindu boy is criminal minded I say.”
“Then think about it, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī. Most Hindu boys of Durgesh’s age would crawl through a field of cactus to see a set of real Musalmān tits and if you don’t show him, then maybe someone else will.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said mischievously.
“No, you won’t. I can handle this situation thank you very much.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said sternly.
“We’ll, then handle it little sister. You might be pleasantly surprised.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said.*
Kħālidah Naåīm picked up the telephone and said,
“Oh Hi, Bābarah Åālamgīr. Lunch today? Sure, where?”
The voice at the other end of the call said,
“Ashvinātam Restaurant in Ved Nagar at twelve-thirty.”
“I’ll be there. Allah Ħāfiz.”
Kħālidah Naåīm glanced at the digital clock setting on the nightstand.
She smiled she still had plenty of time for a little self-indulgence.
Kħālidah Naåīm opened the drawer to the nightstand next to her unmade bed.
She lifted the hardbound romance novel and placed it beside her on the bed.
Kħālidah Naåīm looked longingly at the cover art on the book.
It pictured a handsome, hard-bodied man embracing a Lady Doctor in a white uniform.
Kħālidah Naåīm lovingly traced her fingertips across the man’s face as Kħālidah Naåīm memorized its chiseled details.
Untying her robe Kħālidah Naåīm opened it.
Her nipples hardened in the cool morning air.
Hissing Kħālidah Naåīm tugged on each nipple in turn until Kħālidah Naåīm felt the familiar warmth deep in her belly begin to flood her nethers.
Kħālidah Naåīm hesitated, gazed at the hunk on the book cover then pulled out a pink plastic phallus and a tube of lube from the drawer.
Blushing, Kħālidah Naåīm knew her husband would be hurt if he knew Kħālidah Naåīm had resorted to mechanical devices to reinforce his flagging sexual prowess.
Kħālidah Naåīm shrugged, Kħālidah Naåīm had needs that required satisfaction, if Kħālidah Naåīm went too long without an orgasm Kħālidah Naåīm could be a real bitch.
Kħālidah Naåīm liberally applied lubricant to the slim 7-inch long pink shaft followed by the wide bulb-shaped head.
The enlarged head contained a powerful egg vibrator that focused on her G-spot.
What the hell else could Kħālidah Naåīm do when her husband was becoming more and more disinterested in having sex with her?
Well, her most sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān lady friends even told Kħālidah Naåīm, Kħālidah Naåīm wasn’t only facing this problem, they were too suffering from the same impasse.
Zāhidah Aslam had gone even to the extent,
“Kħālidah Naåīm, I knew sooner or later, it had to happen.”
Kħālidah Naåīm was startled,
“Allah, why Zāhidah Aslam?”
“Our Musalmān mankind is becoming more and more religious nowadays.”
“Not only our Musalmān mankind, Zāhidah Aslam.” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad smiled at her other most sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān lady friends, “nowadays, the entire mankind on the globe is bubbling with intense incurable continually increasing religious sentiments.”
“Allah, you are absolutely correct, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad.” Kħālidah Naåīm immediately agreed with her.
“Don’t you see,” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad said, “almost entire globe is suddenly against corruption in their governments? Don’t you see, almost entire globe is suddenly against gang-rapes and rapes even? Why is it so? Due to this very intense incurable constant increase in religious sentiments of the entire mankind on entire globe, I say.”*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t understand what had happened to me suddenly.
He was a badly flustered individual.
Not only was he curious as to why I should be interested in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Islands, but Imām Muħammad Ħasan was anxious to make certain that he receive the excessive price that he had quoted over the mobile.
He could not understand while I was always against even the name of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, why suddenly I was so interested in buying ten thousand shares of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands.
He had offered his ten thousand shares for ten times amount they actually were worth of.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s anxiety was tempered by a very evident fear that some secret development concerning which he knew nothing was making the stock worth far more than Imām Muħammad Ħasan had dared to ask.
I put the certified cheque on Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s executive table.
“There you are Abbū Imām. A cheque payable to Imām Muħammad Ħasan, dated today, duly certified, in an amount of one thousand, thousand dollars. You please note that I have written on the back of the cheque that, this cheque is payment in full for your ten thousand shares of stock in the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands. I have further written on the back of this cheque that you agree to arrange for me to attend the directors’ meeting this afternoon.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was listening to me immensely intently.
Yet, nevertheless, he was absolutely unable to understand what I was actually after.
He knew me very well I would never purchase even a single share of even any Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, until its name isn’t changed.
I hated the immense vulgarity in the name.
Why the hell then I was suddenly interested in purchasing as much as ten thousand shares of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands, on ten times amount of what they were actually worth of?
I continued gravely, yet still quite respectfully,
“Abbū Imām, you will there, in directors’ meeting, announce that you have sold your stock of ten thousand shares to me, and give me an opportunity to address the meeting.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s suspicious eyes peered with the intensity of a man trying to look through a thick fog.
He pushed his head forward, as if by doing so he could see my face to better advantage, and could study my features.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan blinked his eyes gravely.
He had to admit to himself that I was too much deep for him still now, while I respected him very much as my father in law.
Since Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan insisted I should treat her Abbū Imām my father in law and Imām Muħammad Ħasan should treat me his son in law, that was the relationship prominent between Imām Muħammad Ħasan and me.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan seemed almost to be sniffing the air.
“You have the stock, Abbū Imām?” I asked gravely.
“Sure, my son. Absolutely.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said patiently.
“I’m prepared to endorse all the ten stock certificates.”
“There are five directors?”
“Will you,” I smiled, “tell me something about the temperaments and personalities of the various directors?”*
Satisfied that the vibrator was ready to use Kħālidah Naåīm began to prepare herself to receive it.
Kħālidah Naåīm began by warming up her erogenous zones with her own fingers.
With familiarity, her digits traced their way around her anatomy, mapping out her puffy pussy lips, pinpointing her clitoris and exploring her vagina.
It felt so good, Kħālidah Naåīm whimpered,
“Uh, uh, uh.”
Kħālidah Naåīm twisted the base of the vibrator engaging its lowest speed.
She allowed the head of the vibrator to travel the most responsive parts of body slowly, first buzzing her inner thighs then her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān labia.
Kħālidah Naåīm increased the speed of her toy and applied varied pressures to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān clit.
Her arousal built.
Kħālidah Naåīm relished the powerful sensations surging through her body.
Kħālidah Naåīm panted,
“That’s it, that’s it,” and puffed breathily, “Oh, that’s it.”
Glancing at the man painted on the book cover with glassy eyes Kħālidah Naåīm slipped the enlarged tip of vibrator slowly inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Pussy.
After a moment, Kħālidah Naåīm simulated sexual intercourse by sliding the droning dildo up and down in her slick snatch pushing the limits of comfort.
Kħālidah Naåīm located her G-spot with the wide egg-shaped head of the toy and groaned.
Quickly, Kħālidah Naåīm twisted the base of the vibrator dialing up the intensity of the vibrations that gyrated all the way through her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān gash.
She diddled her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān clit with demonic endeavor until a toe-curling orgasm was delivered.
Her climax exploded in the pleasure center of her mind as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt contorted and contracted around the humming device still embedded within her.
Kħālidah Naåīm screamed with agonized release,
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled at me.
“The directors are personally known to you. Very harmonious, very broadminded. For the most part, our meetings are entirely without friction. I am quite sure, my son that, you will find no serious objection on the part of any director to carrying out any legitimate business proposition that is for the best interest of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands.”
I looked at Imām Muħammad Ħasan steadily for a few moments, then grinned.
“Well, of course,” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said, trying his best not to avert his eyes, “we occasionally do have differences of opinion, as your own board of directors in HVSI group of Companies too has naturally. Nevertheless, you know very well, being an ever most successful businessman, even more than me, that’s only normal. You know, these islands are part of Ved Nagar and we have Democracy here after all. I don’t think it’s necessary for me to remind you that we progress through the consideration of different opinions in Democracy.”
I smiled respectfully.
“Abbū Imām, I know you would never deceive me for your personal interest. Yet, we both are dedicated to our movements. Aren’t we?”
“Sure, yet our movements are not mutually against each other. We both are fighting to establish actual Democracy everywhere. Aren’t we?”
“I agree with you. But I am never as desperate in achieving my goal as you are.”
“Because Hindus were never as Uneducated/Under Educated, never as criminal/criminal minded, as the Pseudo Musalmīn are.”
“You go to the extreme extents even to achieve your goals. You have established Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs successfully. You’ve successfully developed them to Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands even. Yet, you are quite against your own daughter, my wife, my live in relationship partner, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan that, she has vowed to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
4. On History
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