The Extent: Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband:26Posted: March 31, 2014
I overheard Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, cry as I passed the guest bedroom.
“Oh yes, Shankar! Harder!”
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s nice to see someone is having fun,” I said softly as I moved down the hall.
I passed Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s sister’s bedroom and heard the headboard rocking into the wall.
“Ħabībah really needs to fix that.”
I didn’t much like Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s sister’s boyfriend Vijay, but I’d learned a long time ago to stay out of her love life.
He was an asshole.
I couldn’t hide my feeling on him, not from her, but I remained silent on the subject.
I was sure Ħabībah would figure it out eventually and for the time being; at least he was a good-looking asshole that seemed to make her happy.
Vijay Vikram Pratāp, of course, wasn’t a Dvij, but if he was Ħabībah’s love, Vijay Vikram Pratāp was better than her Musalmān cousins were, her Ammī was trying to marry Ħabībah with.
I moved on once again toward my own room. Shaguftah Jamīl’s cousin Ashok was there with his new girlfriend Sabīħah Åbbās.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, was using my room because the only other bedroom available was Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s and neither Ħabībah nor I thought it right that he and his girlfriend sleep there.
I got Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s bed since she was the one who stupidly broke up with her girlfriend the week before.
“I really could have timed it better,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, mumbled to herself.
Ħabībah and I had started planning this night from the Moment Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, told us that she was going out of town on business.
I was sixty-five already.
Ħabībah was twenty-three and already working.
She still lived home while she saved up for a place.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, was pretty old fashioned and didn’t let the people we were dating sleep over.
She had to know that we weren’t virgins, but Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, was a typical Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum.
She liked to think of them still as kids.
It would have been cute if it weren’t so annoying to them.
I stopped in front of my bedroom door and listened.
I forgot to get a pair of sweats to sleep in out of my closet before Ashok and Sabīħah Åbbās disappeared into my room.
I didn’t hear anything, so I opened the door gently.
I glanced at my bed and saw that they were asleep.
Ashok and his Musalmān girl were naked.
My eyebrows rose in appreciation when I saw Sabīħah Åbbās.
I had to give Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, credit.
I’d thought she was cute when I met her earlier, but now I realized that Sabīħah Åbbās was a lot more than that.
She was hot!
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl had a very nice Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body.
I shook my head and looked away.
The sweat pants were easily reachable and I got them as quietly as I could.
I was making my escape when I stubbed my toe.
I cursed as quietly as I could.
“Are you okay?” I heard Sabīħah Åbbās ask.
I looked back toward the bed.
She had pulled the covers up, but I could still see her excellent fantastic Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān curves through the sheets.
She saw me looking and smiled.
“Fine,” I replied a little too quickly. “Sorry. I just needed to get something to sleep in.”
“It’s not a problem,” she said kindly. “I shouldn’t have a problem going back to sleep. I’m still pretty drunk.”
“Aren’t you all?” I grinned. “You finished almost all the alcohol you bought, and that’s saying something! You new generation!”
“It was a fun night,” she smiled in return.
It was sexy as hell.
I looked at her and shook my head as I fought to hide my sudden and intense ashvinātam attraction to her.
Damn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan!
She had succeeded ultimately to brainwash me, despite my utmost efforts constantly to keep away from her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was more serious to make me fuck Jet Musalmān Beauties more and more than I suspected her dedication to it.
It was her mission of life to establish the fact that Kħalīfatul Musalmīn, Ħazrat Abū Bakr Siddīq were a better father, an ideal father actually, when he decided his nine years old daughter, Åāyeshah Siddīqah, to marry with fifty plus, Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam.
“Islam is the best religion for womankind.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say proudly, “It saved the daughters from being buried alive in then Årabia. Islam is the only Dīn that advocates marriages oriented to morals and humanity, instead of oriented to their bloody age suitability. Islam never supported the bloody age oriented marriages. Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam married Ħazrat Kħadījatul Kubrā razī Allāhu tålā ånahā not for sex, for morals and humanity instead. When he sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam married Ħazrat Kħadījatul Kubrā razī Allāhu tålā ånahā she razī Allāhu tålā ånahā already had been married thrice. Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam easily could have married a virgin, couldn’t he sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam?”
Now I myself didn’t think anything abnormal in lusting for the teenager Musalmān Beauties and even fucking them wildly.
Now, I never thought I was sixty five.
I myself thought I was even less than thirty five.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad had done wonders ultimately.
I obliged Åbdul Waħīd, Muħammad Ashfāq, Åāliyah Fārūq and Lubnā Salīm.
When we reached Lubnā Salīm’s condo, she insisted I join her for a nightcap.
We sat in the living room and drank, looking out at the city skyline and the bright lights below.
“Tell me about what you and Muħammad Ashfāq are looking for,” I inquired.
“We’re crazy about each other, but we’re very different sexually,” Lubnā Salīm replied. “Muħammad Ashfāq is moody and intense and frankly a bit passive. He likes to make love. I, on the other hand, am light-hearted and just love to fuck.”
“We’re out of sync. I want to get my brains fucked out and Muħammad Ashfāq wants candles, flowers and a string quartet.”
Lubnā Salīm took a long pull at her double vodka tonic and continued.
“I’ve always found Hindu men attractive, at least in the abstract, though I’ve never been intimate with any. To try and liven things up, I got Muħammad Ashfāq to watch porn together. It was just sort of okay, but one night I put on an amateur video of a white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife with a Hindu guy while the Musalmān husband watched, and it was like ‘POW!'”
“POW-how” I asked.
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“POW as in Muħammad Ashfāq got hard as a rock, I got soaking wet, and we screwed like we did when we first got married,” Lubnā Salīm said. “At the same time, Åāliyah Fārūq was telling me about what was going on with you and her and Åbdul Waħīd. I told Muħammad Ashfāq about it, and we started watching what I guess you could call amateur interfaith cuckold videos pretty regularly. I finally flat out asked Muħammad Ashfāq if the idea of me actually fucking a Hindu guy turned him on. He didn’t have to answer the question, because he was hard as a rock in two seconds. No denying it after that,” she said. “And here we are.”
I looked at Lubnā Salīm intensely.
“I’m not into cheating Musalmān wives, Lubnā Salīm. It sounds like this is entirely your agenda. Is that right?”
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“I definitely am leading the way, that’s fair enough,” she said, “but you and I wouldn’t be here if Muħammad Ashfāq wasn’t intrigued and aroused by the idea too.”
“Ideas are ideas. The reality of watching another man― and a Hindu man at that― taking a Musalmān husband’s white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife can be a lot different than the idea of it for a husband, if you get my drift.”
Lubnā Salīm nodded.
“Supposing, for example, that you really love it but Muħammad Ashfāq can’t cope, what then?”
“We’ve talked about it quite a bit,” Lubnā Salīm replied. “We’re going to give it a month and reassess. Either one of us can cancel at that point, but if we both say okay there’s no backing out after that.”
“Tell me what you want from me,” I asked.
“I want you to fuck me. Not just fuck. I want you to own my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot and fuck it as if I’m your personal Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife fuck toy. I want you to make me totally lose control, and I want Muħammad Ashfāq to see what a real man with a big Uncut Hindu Lund can do to his white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife,”
Lubnā Salīm smiled impishly, winked at me meaningfully and continued.
“And I want Muħammad Ashfāq to know deep down inside that he will never, ever, be able to fuck me like you can, and that my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot will never ever be just for him anymore.”
I watched her gravely.
“You think Muħammad Ashfāq would ever agree to that?”
Lubnā Salīm looked at me conspiratorially.
“Why should we worry about it?”
“I am not interested in Muħammad Ashfāq any more, as Åāliyah Fārūq is no more interested in Åbdul Waħīd any more.” Lubnā Salīm said curtly.
“Most of the Pseudo Musalmīn are losing interest in lovemaking now, but not in sex.”
I smiled ironically.
“Are you telling me? I am fucking more and more Musalmān wives, nowadays, not only with the consent of their Pseudo Musalmān husbands, but even on their own request too. Can you imagine?”
Lubnā Salīm’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes were burning now with immense hatred for Pseudo Musalmīn, including his husband Muħammad Ashfāq too.
“Durgesh, what do you think, your de facto wife, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s movement, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement would have succeeded even if the Pseudo Musalmīn were not actually munāfiqīn?”
“Certainly not.” I exploded suddenly, “If there is really a God, and Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were his prophet actually, it could never happen. And I believe there is a God and Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were his prophet actually.”
My voice was effervescent with immense wrath against Pseudo Musalmīn, inherent in me, but I never let it come out.
Lubnā Salīm smiled.
“Lā ilāh illillāh Muħammad arrasūlallāh?”
“Lā ilāh illillāh Muħammad arrasūlallāh.”
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“You are a Muslim, Durgesh, you are not a Hindu any more.”
“A true Muslim is always a true Hindu too.”
“Don’t believe if you don’t want to. Lā ikrah fiddīni.”*
I began, and paused when I realized what I was about to say.
“You know if you do have a problem going back to sleep…”
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Yes?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
I was horny as hell and tempted, but it was all right, if wasn’t going to happen.
I wasn’t the type to try and steal Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl.
Let Shaguftah Jamīl herself come to me.
Brahmcharyéñ kanyā yuvānam vindaté Patim.
Besides, what kind of heel would do it from right out of bed?
“You could wake up Ashok. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
“You think so?” she smiled.
I thought I saw some disappointment there too, but it was probably just my imagination.
“I know!” I laughed, then glanced at Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, who seemed almost comatose and added, “Although he seemed wiped out.”
“He is,” she replied, slowly looking at me oddly. “Do you want to fill in for him?”
I was stunned.
Sabīħah Åbbās never even thought what she was suggesting me to do.
Tonight was the first time I met Sabīħah Åbbās.
She was pretty quiet earlier.
I would never have guessed she was like this!
“No,” I smiled affably. “Not that I’m not tempted. Hell, more than tempted! You’re hot as hell, but you’re here with Ashok. Come to me yourself if you really so kind to honor me. You are always most welcome. I’m honored. Thanks for the so kind offer.”
“How sweet,” she teased. “Oh, and thanks for the compliment.”
“You deserve it,” I said, shaking my head.
“If you keep talking like that,” she smiled sexily. “I might not give you the choice.”
“I’d better be going then,” I laughed, but it was not easy to move.
“Now look what you’ve done?” she asked. “I’m horny again. I guess I’ll have to wake up Ashok and help him recover.”
“Think you can?” I joked. “He looks passed out.”
“Watch me,” she replied confidently.
Sabīħah Åbbās shocked me again by reaching out and beginning to rub Ashok’s cock through the sheet.
She was watching me, obviously enjoying my reaction.
Was Sabīħah Åbbās teasing me, seducing me actually?
I couldn’t believe it.
‘Wow!’ I thought. ‘This Musalmān girl was definitely something else, drunk or not!’
Sabīħah Åbbās continued to look at me as she worked Ashok’s cock.
I stood there mesmerized.
She had one of the sexiest smiles I’d ever seen.
She let the sheet drop slightly and exposed her ever excellent ever erect Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān breasts.
I shook my head.
“I don’t suppose you have a sister?” I asked.
“Two,” she grinned. “But the younger one is only eighteen and pretty innocent.”
“And the older one?” I asked.
“You, perhaps only you, can handle her,” Sabīħah Åbbās laughed.
“Maybe not,” I smiled. “But after watching this, I’d sure like to try.”
“Watching what?” she asked huskily, no longer laughing. “You mean this?”
And with that Sabīħah Åbbās pulled Ashok’s hard cock from under the sheet and took it into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth.
Her awfully attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes never left mine.
I smiled at Sabīħah Åbbās.
“Does Ashok know just how much of a slut you are?” I teased her.
After all, Sabīħah Åbbās, herself was teasing me.
Wasn’t Sabīħah Åbbās?
She pulled off Ashok’s cock.
It glistened, but I wasn’t really looking at it.
My eyes were locked with hers.
“Not yet,” she smiled sexily, stroking Ashok’s cock. “But he’s learning.”
“Are you sure you aren’t willing to introduce me to your sister?” I kept smiling.
“Maybe one day,” she smiled. “Or maybe I’ll let Ashok play with my sister too and keep you to myself.”
“Wow!” I cried. “Are you always like this?”
“Not usually,” she admitted. “But as I said earlier, I’m drunk.”
“So if you were sober you wouldn’t want to do what you just suggested?”
“Oh, I would want to do it,” she replied. “I just wouldn’t have suggested it, at least not so soon after starting to date Ashok and meeting you.”
“You are something else!” I said, shaking my head.
“Yes, she is,” Ashok said, finally awake.
“Hey Hindu lover boy,” Sabīħah Åbbās said, smiling at Ashok.
She followed that by taking Ashok’s cock back into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth.
He looked at me and grinned.
“You two have fun,” I said, shaking my head again and leaving my room.
I went into the bathroom and changed into my sweats.
I had to wrestle my cock inside.
Sabīħah Åbbās really got to me.
No surprise there, but I was also a little shocked at Ashok.
He was nineteen and Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s younger cousin, but he seemed to take Sabīħah Åbbās’s sexuality in stride much better than I did.
It wasn’t a good sign.
Could he let his extremely beautiful ultramodern Musalmān girlfriend fuck me?
If yes, either he wasn’t serious about her, or he wasn’t as possessive as the most of the Hindus are usually.
I forced, Tried to force myself, not to think about it or I’d never get to sleep.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s room was the biggest after my own master bedroom, and she had a king sized bed.
I shook my head as I looked at it.
It was too bad she never shared it with anyone.
My stepson had disappeared right after he married her.
I didn’t know him and at this point, I never wanted to.
There was a rumor, my Bahū Bégum, Al Furqān Al Firdaus, actually loved me, not her Musalmān husband.
She married him only to cuckold him to both of us.
“Nonsense,” I had exploded, “What the hell these Pseudo Musalmīn want to say? Entire Musalmān girls that marry my Musalmān stepsons actually want to cuckold my Musalmān stepsons to themselves and me? Actually, they want to break my home, my family, terrifying my Musalmān stepsons to leave my home if they really want to keep their beautiful young Musalmān wives to themselves, and don’t want to share them with me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled,
“Don’t worry, your Musalmān stepsons would rather share their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives with you, rather than they would leave our home.”
“You keep away from it,” I said spitefully,
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, don’t think I don’t understand the deepest game you are playing.”
“Allah Allah, husband, now what the hell have I done?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked innocently.
“You want it. You are behind it. You want my Musalmān stepsons cuckolded to their beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives and me. You…you are an immensely incurable incestuous…”
“Yes, I am.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan interrupted me raising her head proudly, “I want your Pseudo Musalmīn stepsons cuckolded to you and their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young ardent Musalmān wives. They don’t deserve them. Instead, their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young ardent Musalmān wives deserve you.”
“Oh, stop this bloody Optimum Matchmaking.”
“Why the hell should I?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself thundered at me now, “you can’t make me not to practice my Dīn. Lā ikrah fiddīni.”
“And your Dīn is to make my Bahū Bégums my Live In Relationship partners?” I smiled venomously.
“Allah Rabbil åālmīn himself did it. Ummil Mominīn Ħazrat Zaynab bint Jaħash…”
“Oh, shut up,” I laughed sarcastically, “Your version of Islam is as incestuous as you yourself are.”
“The entire humankind are product of incest, Hindu Piyā, entire Musalmīn, entire Christians, entire Jews believe it. You Hindus are not even countable. Adam and Eve’s children had to commit incest to save humankind. We entire humankind are product of their incest. Never forget this ever burning truth before hating incest so much. Incest is necessary to save humankind. Incest is necessary to do justice with us womankind. Why the hell only we daughters leave our parents’ house, not even your stepsons ever?”
1. Bahoo Begum
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