The Audacity: 15

The Audacity

Durgesh

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Chapter 15

Durgesh Al Qamar Al Jalāl
Muħammad Åbbās
Happy birthday to Muħammad Åbbās!

They had a great few days together – plenty sex, uninhibited by the presence of the kids, but also a lot of ‘normal’ pursuits – shopping, picnics, visits to parts of Philly they hadn’t yet got around to seeing.

Muħammad Åbbās’s actual birthday was on Thursday, and Al Qamar Al Jalāl had arranged a drinks party for all Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s new friends and neighbors, to start early in the afternoon.
At 11.30, she said she thought Muħammad Åbbās should start getting ready – to take a shower, then dress casually.
When Muħammad Åbbās had done that, Al Qamar Al Jalāl said that she would have to dress, ready for Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s ‘guest’.

“Guests!” Muħammad Åbbās corrected her.
She gave Muħammad Åbbās a strange look.

“Guests?” she said. “Muħammad Åbbās, though I said ‘guest’.”

Something inside Muħammad Åbbās quivered and Muħammad Åbbās suddenly felt a little shaky.
Muħammad Åbbās’s heartbeat was irregular and his tongue was suddenly too large for Muħammad Åbbās’s mouth.
The expression on Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s face was strange – Muħammad Åbbās had never seen anything quite like it before.
She looked nervous, as though of an approaching ordeal, but excited – anticipatory, as well.

Suddenly, she stepped forward and took Muħammad Åbbās’s head in both of her hands.
Pulling Muħammad Åbbās down, she gave Muħammad Åbbās a long, deep kiss.

“Muħammad Åbbās, I love you, Muħammad Åbbās,” she said, with all the sincerity at her command. “Just don’t forget that – whatever happens. But now – you’ve got to trust me, and don’t ask questions. OK?”

Muħammad Åbbās didn’t dare think.
Muħammad Åbbās just nodded, and hugged her, tightly.
She clung to Muħammad Åbbās for a few seconds, then stepped back.

“Will you do what I ask – no questions – please?” she asked, her face serious, with ‘that’ look on it, again.

Muħammad Åbbās nodded his agreement.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl explained that she wanted me to get into the regular closet with the louvered doors, opposite Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s bedroom bathroom.
From that vantage point Muħammad Åbbās could see the entire bedroom, including the entrance to the walk-in clothes closet.
She made Muħammad Åbbās promise to not say anything until she asked him to, and to remain in the closet until she asked Muħammad Åbbās to come out.
And she insisted that Muħammad Åbbās keep my eyes open.
She put on the stereo and tuned it to a soft rock station.

Muħammad Åbbās watched her in the bathroom through the louvered doors.
Muħammad Åbbās could see right in.
She put on a white satin garter belt and sheer white thigh-high stockings.
She then put on a pair of her white bikini panties, which emphasised the glorious cleavage of her wonderful Musalmān ass cheeks.
Then a pair of white sling back pumps that raised her magnificent Musalmān ass to a beautifully featured prominence, tightening the muscles, and rounding its incredibly enticing shape.
It was a sight that always gave Muħammad Åbbās an instant hardon and started Muħammad Åbbās thinking about the virgin orifice nestling within. Muħammad Åbbās’s cut Musalmān nūnī was now huge – painfully erect.

She began applying her eye shadow and then her lipstick.
Muħammad Åbbās watched as the reflection of her beautiful breasts lightly swayed from side to side, in the mirror.
Muħammad Åbbās asked her if she wanted Muħammad Åbbās to get one of Muħammad Åbbās’s favorite brassieres for her to wear but she refused, saying that she’d get it.

“Just please stay in there, and say nothing, Muħammad Åbbās – please,” she said.
Muħammad Åbbās could tell that her tension had gone up several notches – and Muħammad Åbbās’s was practically at breaking-point.
It was then that they heard the sound of a vehicle drawing up, in the drive outside the house.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl stiffened, and her face went a little pale.
She turned back to the mirror.
It was as Muħammad Åbbās heard the back door open that Muħammad Åbbās suddenly realised – it was Thursday – the day Durgesh delivered the things.
Muħammad Åbbās had never heard his voice, but there was no doubt in Muħammad Åbbās’s mind who it was when a male voice called out for Al Qamar Al Jalāl.
She didn’t answer – just sat staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

There was a short silence, then Muħammad Åbbās heard footsteps ascending the stairs.
They were slow and steady – clearly someone carrying something.
Muħammad Åbbās watched as Muħammad Åbbās saw me from the ice-cream parlor – Durgesh, as Muħammad Åbbās now knew me to be – enter the bedroom and proceed into the walk-in closet, carrying a basket.

At the same time as I entered the walk-in, Al Qamar Al Jalāl came out of the bathroom, naked from the waist up.
Her hands were by her sides, her excellent Musalmān breasts bouncing gently as she walked.
Muħammad Åbbās’s heart was beating furiously – Muħammad Åbbās couldn’t believe they couldn’t hear it.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl walked quietly to her mirrored dresser where she kept her lingerie and perfume vials.
The radio music covered her soft footsteps.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl selected a vial with a cruet top on it.
Muħammad Åbbās could see her keeping her eye on the lower corner of the mirror, awaiting My emergence from the walk-in closet.
She saw me starting to come out of the closet – turned, as if she didn’t know I was there – and started to take the top off of the perfume vial.
She ‘saw’ him emerge from the closet and gasped, dropping the cruet top onto the carpet, as if by accident.

A look of horror on her face, she cried out – “Allaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Oh, my God! Durgesh! Muħammad Åbbās, I forgot!”

She got down on her hands and knees and looked for the vial top.
I dropped the things I was carrying and started forward to help her, but she quickly found the top and put out a hand for me to help her back to her feet.

Muħammad Åbbās had an erection like nothing he had ever had before in Muħammad Åbbās’s life.
I reached out to give Al Qamar Al Jalāl my hand and arm to grab onto, to help her up.
She took hold of it, and got back to her feet.

As she did so, the sight and nearness of her proved too much for me and I pulled her into my strong Hindu arms.
Beside myself, I began kissing her fiercely, on her neck and shoulders and hair, as she twisted her mouth away from mine, in what, only Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās knew, was feigned resistance.

I was clutching her sexy gorgeous glamorous exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass-cheeks, tightly, with one hand, pulling her against me, while my other hand was frantically fondling one of her exposed Musalmān breasts.
Muħammad Åbbās was watching my hand, reflected in the mirror of the dresser, as it squeezed the firm flesh of her sexy gorgeous glamorous exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks through the sheer white of her brief panties.

It was only with a superhuman effort of will that Muħammad Åbbās managed not to clutch his jerking cut Musalmān nūnī – Muħammad Åbbās knew one touch would be all it would take to reduce Muħammad Åbbās to a gasping ejaculation.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl was calling, protesting – “No, Durgesh – no – no – no!”

But her cries increasingly lacked conviction, until they slowly ceased and, with an almost imperceptible sigh, her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body relaxed, her beautiful Musalmān arms slid round my Hindu neck, and she began to return my wild kisses.
I no longer had to clutch at her extremely beautiful Musalmān bottom to pull her against me, but my hand stayed there, anyway, exploring the delicious Musalmān contours, encased in the white satin of her panties.
My other hand was now caressing, rather than grabbing, her left Musalmān breast, and Muħammad Åbbās could see my thumb and forefinger stimulating the hard brown nubbin of her nipple.
Muħammad Åbbās knew how much she liked that, and Muħammad Åbbās imagined how she would now be beginning to flood, between her legs.

Then Muħammad Åbbās saw Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s hand slide down and in between them, on to the front of My pants.
Her Musalmān fingers circled around the very obvious Hindu bulge, and she sighed, and leaned back from me, breaking off our kiss.

She looked up into my face.
“All right,” she breathed, softly. “Just this once, Durgesh. I think I owe you that much – but once only. OK? Do you understand?”

I nodded, my face very serious, but working spasmodically, as Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s skilful Musalmān fingers stroked my engorged Uncut Hindu Lund, through my pants.

“OK,” she breathed, assuming control. “Now – let me see what you look like. You’ve seen most of me – now it’s my turn.”

I leaned forward to kick off my shoes and pull off my socks.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl reached for my belt buckle, opened it, and then opened the clasp of my pants and lowered my zipper.
Putting my hand on her shoulder for balance, I sophisticatedly stepped out of my pants smiling, and took off my tee shirt.
I was left in just a pair of white jockey briefs which were tenting massively.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl began to slowly rub the head of my Uncut Hindu Lund outside of my briefs.

“Oh, it’s very big, Durgesh,” she flattered me, her eyes wide, looking down at the shape jutting against the material. “Is it all for me? Do you think I’ll be able to manage it?”

I was panting, my hands all over Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s extremely beautiful Musalmān tits and caressing the cheeks of her curvaceous Musalmān ass.
Then, I slid my right hand around and began to stroke upward into her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot crevice.
Her panties were soaked and Muħammad Åbbās could hear her panting – hard.

“Yes, yessss, oh, oh, yessssssssss” she moaned, and Muħammad Åbbās realised she was starting to have mini-orgasms, standing up, and stroking my Uncut Hindu Lund-filled briefs, then she slid her hand inside my underwear and, at last, felt the bare skin of my Uncut Hindu Lund with her trembling Musalmān fingers.

“Ohhhhhh – take them off, Durgesh,” she gasped. “I want to see it. I want to see your Uncut Hindu Lund. I can’t even get my fingers round it. It’s sooooo thick!”

I pulled my briefs down my long, strong thighs, and Al Qamar Al Jalāl gasped as my Uncut Hindu Lund sprang into view.
Muħammad Åbbās wanted to gasp, too.
I had a real thick one.
Quite longer than Muħammad Åbbās’s, and certainly a lot thicker too.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl said – “Oh, you’re bigger than Muħammad Åbbās, my husband, Durgesh! I don’t know if I’ll manage to take you!”

Muħammad Åbbās knew this was just flattery – and, maybe, just a little bit of humor at Muħammad Åbbās’s expense.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl was beginning to relax, and enjoy herself.
Muħammad Åbbās had been enjoying himself from the Moment she had walked into the bedroom with her lovely naked extremely beautiful Musalmān tits bouncing in front of her, and her gorgeous Musalmān ass – her ‘jelly-ass’, as she called it – jiggling behind.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl reached down and grasped my Uncut Hindu Lund in her small fist, as My fingers, now inside her pulled-aside panties, brought forth a series of little gasps from her as I massaged her Musalmān clit.

Then I pulled her backwards and we fell onto Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s bed, with me underneath.
I was now trying to pull her sheer panties down, moaning like an ever aggressive animal, my thick Hindu rod standing straight up, rearing up above my Hindu, heavy ball-sac.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl was on her knees, over me, and Muħammad Åbbās was looking straight at her panty-covered Musalmān ass.
It had never looked so beautiful.

Muħammad Åbbās watched as My hands dragged her panties over her hips, exposing her cheeks, then I drew them down her thighs.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl took over then, sliding them down her calves and throwing them across the room.
Before she had done so, My hand was burrowing into her black pubic Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān nest, and Muħammad Åbbās could hear Al Qamar Al Jalāl gasp in exquisite pleasure as my fingers made another contact with her engorged Musalmān clitoris.
Then Muħammad Åbbās saw, first one, then a second, of my questing fingers disappear into the moistened crevice between her parted Musalmān thighs.

As I did so, Al Qamar Al Jalāl let out a strangled gulp of sheer pleasure, and reached down to close her fingers round my wide, thick Uncut Hindu Lund.
My balls, covered with the same black coarse hair as was spread across my tight belly, were hanging low and heavy, and Muħammad Åbbās speculated on the load of Hindu semen soon to be released, and where Al Qamar Al Jalāl would elect to receive it.

The scene before Muħammad Åbbās, Muħammad Åbbās now realised, was becoming fantastic, in the literal sense of the word.
Muħammad Åbbās couldn’t believe it was really happening.
It was as if Muħammad Åbbās had a front-row seat at the most erotic movie of all time, starring Muħammad Åbbās’s own lovely extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
Muħammad Åbbās’s cut Musalmān nūnī was still fully hard, but the temptation to touch it had almost gone – Muħammad Åbbās knew Muħammad Åbbās would need all Muħammad Åbbās’s strength later, once Durgesh had been sent on my way and it would be Muħammad Åbbās’s turn.

Then I reached up and rolled Al Qamar Al Jalāl over on to her back.
There was no doubt, now, about the destination of my first ejaculation.
I had made the choice – I wanted Muħammad Åbbās’s lovely extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!
My hands reached down and parted Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s thighs.
Her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot opened up like a flower in front of my eyes – her erect throbbing Musalmān clitoris, her blood-engorged Musalmān labia, and the deep, tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tunnel beyond, glistening with her flowing love moistures.

With a groan of pleasure, she reached between my legs to take hold of my Uncut Hindu Lund again, and guided it into the open, welcoming Musalmān gash between her splayed thighs.
There was no time for more foreplay between us.
We each wanted nothing more than to fuck the other.

And, for the first time, ever, Muħammad Åbbās watched his wonderful Al Qamar Al Jalāl fuck – and be fucked.
She was magnificent in her female Musalmān lust.
She exhorted me to fuck her hard – harder – harder!
She spurred me on by telling how good my big Uncut Hindu Lund was, and how well I used it.
How she was going to come harder, and longer, than she ever had before.

I was a machine out of control.
My hips were moving like a car’s camshaft.
I was setting a speed record of thrusts per second into her welcomingly juicy still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
My eyes were rolling up into my head, showing only the whites.
I was in a world of abandoned lust.
It lasted as if for infinity.
Muħammad Åbbās was horrified.
Allah, would I never stop now fucking Muħammad Åbbās’s still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife?
We both were wild now.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl had perhaps forgotten she was still Muħammad Åbbās’s wife, not mine.
We were changing countless sex positions one after another.
Muħammad Åbbās had never imagined even many of them.
We went on fucking each other wildly.
To Muħammad Åbbās’s immense surprise, Al Qamar Al Jalāl was fucking me more wildly than even I was fucking her.

Then, ultimately, after as if infinity, with an unworldly strangulated roar, I finally abandoned myself to a juddering climax and, only seconds later, Al Qamar Al Jalāl, too, let out a long strident shriek of pure pleasure, her legs scissoring tightly round my waist as she pulled me into her, as far as I could go.
Our bodies locked together in passion, we became one, lost in our own mutual orgasmic galaxy.

We both seemed to pass out for several minutes and then, we finally began stirring.
I was the first to speak, my hands still roaming over Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s curves and hollows.
I said that I never would have believed it.
I had never made such wonderful love, nor had a beautiful Musalmān houselady as beautiful as Al Qamar Al Jalāl, recently.
I’d wanted to make love to her from the first Moment I’d met her, over three months ago.
She was exquisite.
I admitted that I was fantasizing about fucking her – seeing her naked – touching her.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl told me that she had found herself very attracted to me, from the first, and, on a few occasions, she had been very tempted to make love with me, but that she couldn’t be untrue to Muħammad Åbbās.
She loved Muħammad Åbbās, and Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s daughters, deeply.
Durgesh and she could have an affair infinitely, but not a marriage ever.
We have that afternoon, and then kiss each other goodnight to meet next day again if we want.

But the afternoon didn’t have to finish right then!

She leaned over and lifted My now still erect, still large and impressive Uncut Hindu Lund, from my thigh.
Dropping her head, she took it into her skilful, tantalising Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, teasing it back to life with her lips and tongue.
As she did so, her fingers gently cupped my testicles and stroked the hardening base of my Uncut Hindu Lund, until a low moaning, deep in my throat, began again.
She moved her head up and down my Hindu shaft, at an ever-increasing pace, fondling my Hindu balls at the same time.

Every so often, as she felt my Uncut Hindu Lund thicken, prior to coming, she pulled away and just rubbed my length across her face, sliding it lovingly along first one cheek, then the other, and giving it tiny nibbling Musalmān kisses as it passed across her lips.
In the closet, as Muħammad Åbbās watched her apply this technique, with which Muħammad Åbbās was so familiar, Muħammad Åbbās knew what bitter-sweet agonies of sensation would be pulsing through me, and Muħammad Åbbās fought desperately to retain his very consciousness as he vicariously shared my exquisite torture.

Finally, Al Qamar Al Jalāl relented and swung a leg across me, and mounted me.
With one dexterous movement, she fed my rampant Uncut Hindu Lund into her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and began to ride me.
Like a drowning man, I reached up and clasped her swinging Musalmān breasts – then I clutched at her sexy gorgeous glamorous exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt cheeks – then back to her extremely beautiful Musalmān tits.
I was making animal noises again, and my head was rolling from side to side, Muħammad Åbbās’s mouth open with immense surprise how the hell long I could fuck his wife.

The sight never left Muħammad Åbbās’s mind.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheeks rippled with each downward thrust.
They jiggled from side to side to side in a blatant display of sexual wantonness.
Muħammad Åbbās thought he’d come without ever touching himself.
It was out of this world – beauty in motion.
Muħammad Åbbās could never forget it.
It went on to infinity once more.
Allah!
Allah!!
Were Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Durgesh actually made for each other?
Muħammad Åbbās could not believe it.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Durgesh were perfect.
Muħammad Åbbās was incompetent.
Now, Muħammad Åbbās knew it very well.
Yet, Muħammad Åbbās was still satisfied that Al Qamar Al Jalāl was Muħammad Åbbās’s wife after all.
Let Al Qamar Al Jalāl fuck Durgesh as much as she craved for.
Yet, she was still Muħammad Åbbās’s ever faithful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.

Finally, as she felt me thrusting frantically upwards into her deepest Musalmān depths, my breathing turning into one endless choking gasp, Al Qamar Al Jalāl let herself go, and, flinging herself down on top of me, clung to me desperately as she began to shake uncontrollably.

Our mutual climax lasted even longer, this time and, when we were both spent, we lay like dead people, entwined in our spent lust.

At last, I stirred, and Al Qamar Al Jalāl rolled off me, lying, legs splayed, beside me on the bed.

Al Qamar Al Jalāl rolled over onto her stomach. Muħammad Åbbās started to come out of the closet and Al Qamar Al Jalāl asked Muħammad Åbbās to stay there.
She was lying on Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s bed, clad only in her satin garter belt, pumps, and stockings with her magnificent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass on display.
Muħammad Åbbās came out of the closet.

Muħammad Åbbās looked down at Muħammad Åbbās’s gorgeous, well-fucked by me, lovely extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
Muħammad Åbbās’s mind was in a complete whirl, but Muħammad Åbbās had no regrets. Muħammad Åbbās had never loved Al Qamar Al Jalāl as much as Muħammad Åbbās did at that Moment. Lying on her front, she turned her head and smiled up at Muħammad Åbbās – but not without some trace of apprehension.

“Well?” she asked, taking a long, deep breath, then blowing it out again. “Muħammad Åbbās, I suppose you must have enjoyed that – otherwise, you’d have put a stop to it, wouldn’t you?”
I smiled at both of them.
Muħammad Åbbās thanked me, gratefully indebted.
“Thank you, thank you very much, Durgesh. My wife was crazy to have you inside her. She was fantasizing desperately. I wanted myself to give her what she was desperate for. Thanks for obliging us both.”
I smiled politely, yet sophisticatedly.
“Never mind. Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure, instead.”
“You may enjoy her anytime you damn please, even if I need her then. Just forget me and fuck her.”
“That’s very noble of you.” I smiled.
“From now on, you are her paramount husband even if she is actually legally married to me.”
I smiled my thanks again.

For answer, Muħammad Åbbās slowly stripped off all his clothes and let her look at his rigid erection, standing straight out from his belly.

“That.” Muħammad Åbbās said, “was the best birthday present I’ve ever had – by a million miles, my ever dearest wife!”

Al Qamar Al Jalāl smiled again.

“Oh, no, it wasn’t, my darling. That was a present for me, for your birthday. This is your present – all for you!”

Reaching up beyond her head, she dragged a pillow down the bed and slid it under her stomach.
Then, reaching behind her, she put her hands on the cheeks of her luscious Musalmān bottom, and separated them, slowly.
The seemingly tiny, puckered hole of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass was exposed to Muħammad Åbbās’s incredulous gaze.

“Muħammad Åbbās, I think I am really ready for you now, my love,” she said, a little shakily, but with determination. “You know Muħammad Åbbās, I am a virgin there, Muħammad Åbbās, but I am ready to give that up, now – to Durgesh, and only for you. Whatever happens from now on, no-one else will ever have me there. Please do it, Durgesh, for Muħammad Åbbās, now, Muħammad Åbbās – please – Muħammad Åbbās wants it, Durgesh!”

It was the realisation of a dream.
I got on my knees behind her.
Reaching between her legs, Muħammad Åbbās drew his hand along the shiny lips of her swollen Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Muħammad Åbbās’s fingers came away liberally coated with slick moisture, which Muħammad Åbbās licked proudly.

Then Muħammad Åbbās leant forward and gently touched my glistening knobhead against her virginal orifice.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s head was down in the pillow, and she had raised her hips up to Meet me.
She didn’t flinch at the first contact, and I pushed forward, gently, experimentally.
Centimetre by centimetre, the tip of Uncut Hindu Lund entered her.
Her opening seemed to expand with each light thrust, just enough to take a little more of my pulsating Hindu erection.

Muħammad Åbbās’s eyes were fixed on her gently quivering cheeks and the incredible sight of the tip of Uncut Hindu Lund slipping in between them.
Muħammad Åbbās put my hands on her cheeks and squeezed them, lovingly.
Muħammad Åbbās heard a muffled sigh of contentment.

The room was totally quiet, the only sound that of distant traffic.
The sunlight streamed in, diluted by the curtained windows.
After a minute, Muħammad Åbbās realised she had taken a full inch of my Uncut Hindu Lund – the head was fully in.

“OK?” Muħammad Åbbās breathed, apprehensively.

“Mmmm,” came the reply.

I pushed a little harder.
Another inch disappeared.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl gasped a little.

“OK?”

“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “Don’t stop!”

Muħammad Åbbās could see her sexy gorgeous glamorous exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt cheeks begin to ripple as her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body started to move, tentatively, in what I felt was the first sensation of pleasure.

I pushed again – now I was sliding in, inch by inch, tightly, but comfortably.
It was a sensation unlike anything Muħammad Åbbās had ever experienced before.
Every millimetre of the surface of Uncut Hindu Lund was gripped, gently, and a thousand sensations were running up it, from stem to stern – for, now, I was in, completely!

I was totally inside Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s oh-so-desirable and long-desired Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, my hipbones pressed against the luscious softness of her cheeks, my entire Uncut Hindu Lund inside her virgin Musalmān anal passage.
It was so warm and tight – and so welcoming! I reached forward and grasped her hipbones.
She raised herself up until she was on her knees, her sexy gorgeous glamorous exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt pressed back against me.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” she said. “Ohhhhhh – if Muħammad Åbbās, I had known it would be like this! It’s like nothing I’ve ever known before. Oh, fuck me now, Durgesh – ride me – ride my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass!”

Muħammad Åbbās wasn’t sure, but Muħammad Åbbās thought she was in tears – tears of relief, and joy, that her sacrifice was giving her, as well as me, such sensuous pleasure.

“Oh, fuck my Musalmān ass, Durgesh, please – harder!” she moaned, and I withdrew halfway, then slid in again, then withdrew further, and slid in, harder this time.
Her moans of pleasure intensified, and her hand reached down to fondle her Musalmān clitoris.

I found my rhythm and began to piston in and out of her, my Uncut Hindu Lund gripped by an entirely new, velvety Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān warmth.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s gasps increased in intensity, and Muħammad Åbbās felt the upsurge beginning to build, in my own deepest Hindu depths.
It again went on to infinity as if.
Allah! What a man.
What an supreme efficient man Durgesh is, in fucking Musalmān Beauties.
He always fucked them to infinity as if.
That’s why they say:
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.’

Then, without further warning, I blew!
It was a climax like nothing Muħammad Åbbās had ever experienced before – mind-blowing, cataclysmic.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl followed me quickly, her fingers flying across her clit, her sexy gorgeous glamorous exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass thrust back against me, her vocal abandon even greater than it had been with me, and her ecstatic cries formed the perfect accompaniment to the multi-colored starburst in her brain!

Muħammad Åbbās was in another world!

Happy birthday to Muħammad Åbbās!

Chapter 16
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam

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