The Extent: Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband:32Posted: April 17, 2014
I grinned to myself, remembering last night when I thought I was going to get a chance to do much more than just look at Sabīħah Åbbās.
That hadn’t worked out, but something much different, much better had.
“Durgesh, what the hell happened to your back?” Ashok cried as he stood and threw on his clothes.
Sabīħah Åbbās did as well, but she was moving slower.
“Looks like someone played with a tigress,” she grinned.
I immediately realized what they were talking about.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling cunningly, naughtily. “I met a Musalmān girl a couple of nights ago. She was wild.”
“Man!” Ashok laughed. “She must have been.”
“You’d better get downstairs,” I prompted. “Al Furqān Al Firdaus will be up soon.”
“Right!” Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, said. “I don’t want to face her from a bedroom.”
“I’m right behind you,” Sabīħah Åbbās said when Ashok looked at her impatiently.
He nodded and left.
I moved to leave and take my shower, but she stopped me by placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Yes?” I asked.
She was looking at me oddly.
“Those scratches are new,” she said. “There’s no way they happened before last night.”
My mind raced.
“No…” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand briefly to silence my protests.
“Maybe I was wrong about you,” she smiled sexily. “Maybe you can handle Al Tahajjud Al Islam.”
“Your older sister?” I asked.
She nodded, getting very close.
“You must be wilder than Ashok describes,” she said.
Sabīħah Åbbās was so close that if I moved at all our bodies would touch.
“Because those scratches are new and I’m the only Musalmān girl not related to you in the house.”
“That’s sick! I…” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand again.
“I know,” she smiled, her awfully attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes burning into mine. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. It also doesn’t mean that it doesn’t get to me, on a purely sexual level.”
I was sure how to answer that.
Yet, it didn’t matter.
Sabīħah Åbbās removed her hand from my mouth and barely brushed her lips against mine before turning and moving toward the door.
“I’m looking forward to introducing you to Al Tahajjud Al Islam,” she said as she left the room. “It’s been a while since she and I double dated.”
It was such an innocent statement, but I thought there was more to it.
She didn’t seem shocked at all by her discovery that I had an incestuous affair, only enticed.
“I’m sure it will be some double date,” I mumbled to myself, and then thought, ‘I think it’s time Ashok and I had a talk. I want to make sure he knows what Sabīħah Åbbās is hinting at before I meet her sister.’
The shower felt good.
My back stung as the water hit the scratches and I let myself dwell on how I got them for the first time since waking up.
If nothing else, they were proof that the night before wasn’t a dream.
I really had sex with Al Furqān Al Firdaus and the sweet Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān woman who cared for me had scratched the hell out of my back.
“Wow!” I said, shaking my head as the truth tried to sink it.
The whole situation from the night before was impossible, but it had happened.
I knew that, and now I’d have to deal with the repercussions.
Well, I was ready.
It wasn’t my first sexual intercourse with someone that was known to be my Bahū Bégum, my daughter in law, irrespective of the fact whether she really accepted to be so, or adamant, insistent and persistent even to refuse her such a platonic relationship with me.
I finished my shower, dried and got dressed.
I even took the time to brush my teeth and dry my hair.
I almost felt human again by the time I left the bathroom.
I could hear voices being raised downstairs.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus was obviously awake and it sounded like Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus and she were going at it.
I also heard other voices.
I guessed Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, hadn’t gotten away before Al Furqān Al Firdaus woke up.
‘This should be fun,’ I sighed.
“…It’s bad enough you had a party while I was away,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus was saying. “But for you all to sleep over with your dates is too much!”
“You’re not going to tell our father, are you, Aunt Al Furqān Al Firdaus?” Shaguftah Jamīl asked as I walked down the stairs.
Shankar and Sabīħah Åbbās were gone.
It was only Al Furqān Al Firdaus Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, and cousins in the room.
I guess Ashok and Shaguftah Jamīl figured that it was better to face Al Furqān Al Firdaus rather than their father.
They were probably right.
“Don’t worry, she won’t do that,” I said.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus looked at me and frowned.
I met her awfully attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes until she looked away.
That was something new.
Last night had clearly changed the dynamic of our relationship.
I frowned to myself, but couldn’t help admit that it felt oddly satisfying.
She has surrendered!’ I smiled at myself. She isn’t an arrogant communal Musalmān bitch anymore that always hated and criticized Hindus’ sexual relationships with ‘horny’ Muslimahs.’
I never wanted to hurt Al Furqān Al Firdaus, or anyone else.
It wasn’t my nature ever.
“No, I’m not going to tell your Abbū,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus said to Shaguftah Jamīl, gravely.
“Why not?” Ashok asked in annoyance. “It’s time he loosened up anyway. He’s ridiculous!”
“Maybe,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus surprised me by saying. “But Anwar is Anwar and he’s not about to change anytime soon.”
“Al Furqān Al Firdaus, you’re right,” I said before Ashok could continue. “They shouldn’t have had the party while you were away. They’re sorry.”
Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus looked at me in surprise, but quickly agreed.
“Truthfully,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus sighed. “I’m less concerned about the party than what happened afterward.”
“It’s no big deal,” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus argued, but Al Furqān Al Firdaus was looking at me.
I knew what she meant.
“They were all drunk,” I said carefully. “It happens.”
“But not again,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus replied meaningfully. “Not in my house.”
“I can’t promise that,” I said honestly.
“Durgesh!” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus snapped, having no idea what the real conversation Al Furqān Al Firdaus and I were having.
I was glad Sabīħah Åbbās left.
She’d have picked up on it instantly.
“Let me make you all some breakfast before you two go home,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus said, changing the subject.
Poor Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus looked totally confused.
“That would be great, Aunt Al Furqān Al Firdaus,” Shaguftah Jamīl smiled. “I’ll help.”
The two went into the kitchen.
“What’s up with Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bājī Bégum?” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus frowned once they were gone.
“Aunt Al Furqān Al Firdaus did seem a bit odd,” Ashok added.
“Ease up on her today, Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus,” I said softly. “Al Furqān Al Firdaus quit her job last night.”
“She what?” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, cried, but then added, “Let me guess. It was Mr. Muħammad? He hit on her, didn’t he?”
“You knew about him?” I asked in surprise.
“No, but I guessed,” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, sighed. “He had jerk written all over him. I’d better go in and make sure she’s alright.”
“Okay, but don’t push her,” I said, authoritatively somewhat now. “She’ll tell you about it when she’s ready.”
“MuslimātRamañ, Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s not the only one acting weird today,” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, said, but then thankfully left the room before I could decide of how to respond her.
“Sorry to hear about what happened,” Ashok said once we were alone.
“We’ll be fine,” I said in a tone that let Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, know I didn’t want to talk about it.
Ashok nodded slowly and then changed the subject.
“Mind if I take a shower?” Ashok asked.
“Not at all,” I replied, leading him back upstairs to my room for some clothes.
I threw open the door and the sight and smell made me shake my head and add, “Right after you air out my room and change my sheets.”
“No problem,” he laughed.
“You are one lucky man,” I said as we entered. “That Sabīħah Åbbās is something else.”
“She is, isn’t she?” he laughed, pulling the sheets off my bed.
“Have you met her older sister?” I asked.
“Al Tahajjud Al Islam? Sure,” he smiled. “She’s even hotter than Sabīħah Åbbās!”
“No way,” I argued.
“Seriously,” he said. “They look a lot alike, only Al Tahajjud Al Islam has bigger tits.”
“Now that sounds interesting,” I said, handing him a clean set of sheets as I opened the window. “Because Sabīħah Åbbās said she wanted to set me up with Al Tahajjud Al Islam.”
“Really?” he asked in surprised. “You lucky dog! If she’s half as wild as Sabīħah Åbbās, you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”
“You sound jealous,” I teased.
“I am,” he laughed, making my bed.
“What I wouldn’t do to get into Al Tahajjud Al Islam’s pants!”
“And chance screwing up what you have with Sabīħah Åbbās?” I asked.
“We’re not that serious,” he shrugged. “We like each other and the sex is amazing, but I don’t think either one of us is expecting what we have to last forever. In some ways it’s really nice, because we’re not afraid of trying things or saying what we want.”
“Sabīħah Åbbās doesn’t strike me as the type to be afraid to say or do anything,” I said, shaking my head.
“You may be right,” he smiled.
“Maybe?” I asked. “She didn’t even pause when I burst in on you two this morning!”
“True,” he said, his smile turning into a grin. “And I couldn’t believe what she said last night!”
“What?” I asked.
“You remember. About letting me play with Al Tahajjud Al Islam while she took care of you,” he answered. “She was just teasing you, but man!”
“What if she wasn’t?” I asked. “Would you go for it?”
Ashok looked at me and if possible, his grin grew wider.
“In a heartbeat,” he replied.
“Me too,” I said. “Just in case it ever comes up.”
“Just in case,” he agreed, laughing again. “But you won’t want to switch once you meet Al Tahajjud Al Islam. She is something else!”
“I don’t know,” I argued. “Sabīħah Åbbās is one of the hottest Musalmān girls I’ve ever met.”
“She is that,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, agreed.
“I’m just wondering how a guy like you got her,” I joked.
“Dumb luck,” Ashok replied, finally finished with cleaning my room. “Now give me some clothes. I really do need a shower.”
“You’re telling me?” I teased, handing over something that would fit him.
I moved on to the guest bedroom and called a house cleaner to clean it while he was in the shower.
It didn’t take long.
I had plenty to think about.
“Breakfast!” I heard Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus call up the stairs.
I left and bumped into Ashok in the hall.
He was just getting out of the shower.
“Tell them I’ll be there in two minutes,” he said.
I nodded and went down the stairs.
The meal ended up being surprisingly good considering that, everyone at the table had a hangover to one degree or another.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus seemed to be relaxing and I made sure not to do or say anything to upset her.
We were all laughing at one point when the phone rang.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus picked it up.
“Anwar!” she said in surprise. “Yes, they’re both here.”
“Oh brother,” Ashok said. “Father in law is checking up on us.”
“Can you blame him?” his cousin asked.
They exchanged a grin.
“Yes Anwar, she was right,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus said. “I was on a business trip.”
“Uf oh!” Shaguftah Jamīl groaned.
“I got home last night,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus continued, and then paused again. “It was pretty late.” Everyone could hear Anwar’s yelling through the phone.
“Oh relax!” Al Furqān Al Firdaus snapped at her older brother, surprising us all. “They’re fine and that’s what matters most.”
“Here it comes,” Ashok sighed, guessing at his father’s in law next question.
“I didn’t see Shankar or Ashok’s Musalmān girlfriend,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus replied, eying us all briefly before grinning and adding, “But I got home pretty late and for all I know they were all in their bedrooms having mad passionate sex.”
“Aunt Al Furqān Al Firdaus!” Shaguftah Jamīl whispered in horror, but she had the decency to blush as well, after all, it was the truth.
“Oh come on Anwar!” Al Furqān Al Firdaus sighed. “You have to admit it was a little funny.”
Again, more yelling from Anwar Ůsmān.
“He really needs to get laid,” Ashok sighed, but then looked at Al Furqān Al Firdaus and added, “Sorry.”
Al Furqān Al Firdaus covered the receiver.
“You’re not wrong,” she said, shaking her head.
“Bājī Bégum!” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus cried in shock.
“Oh please!” Al Furqān Al Firdaus retorted. “If nothing else, what happened last night had made me realize I can’t treat you as kids forever. Besides, Anwar is being ridiculous!”
“That’s my father in law,” Ashok sighed.
“You know it’s because he loves you, right?” Al Furqān Al Firdaus asked him, switching from anger to defense in a flash.
You have to love siblings.
“Yeah, but it gets old,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, replied.
“Yes, it does,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus said knowingly. “I remember how he was when I started dating. What a pain!”
“He hadn’t changed much,” Shaguftah Jamīl put in.
“Hold on,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus said to us and took her hand off the phone receiver. “Anwar, I have to go. Breakfast is getting cold. The kids will be home shortly.” She hung up right afterward.
“You didn’t just hang up on dad, did you?” Ashok grinned.
“I said goodbye,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus shrugged, causing them all to laugh.
“Thanks, Aunt Al Furqān Al Firdaus,” Shaguftah Jamīl said.
“I didn’t lie,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus shrugged. “And you shouldn’t either.”
“He doesn’t make it easy,” Ashok put in.
“I know,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus said, and then looked at Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus and me. “I guess I don’t either. I’m sorry. Things are going to change around here.”
“Really?” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus said in surprise.
“A little,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus replied. “I mean, this is still my house and I don’t want it becoming party central or where you and Durgesh have your booty calls.”
“Booty call?” Ashok asked in surprise. “Where in the world did you hear that?”
“I’m old enough, yet―” Al Furqān Al Firdaus sighed. “Not dead!”
“Who the hell are you, Durgesh, and what have you done with Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bājī Bégum?” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus asked me in shocked surprise.
“Very funny,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus sighed, glancing my way briefly.
There was an impish secret smile on her beautiful lips, but it faded swiftly before anyone else could notice it.
I’d intentionally remained quiet.
“I guess last night opened my eyes up to a lot of things. It wasn’t just your party and sleep over.”
“I know,” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus said. “Durgesh told me.”
“I heard too,” Ashok added.
“Heard what?” Al Furqān Al Firdaus asked, clearly stunned.
I knew what she was thinking.
“I’m sorry Al Furqān Al Firdaus,” I said gravely. “I guess I should have let you tell Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus that you quit your job.”
“My job,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus said, shaking her head. “Right.”
“Are you okay, Aunt Al Furqān Al Firdaus?” Shaguftah Jamīl asked.
“I will be,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus answered honestly. “It’s just a lot to take in, all at once.”
“Don’t worry, Bājī Bégum,” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus said. “Durgesh and I will help.”
“We’ll be fine,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus smiled. “I’ve got enough saved to last for at least six months and I’ll have another job well before then.”
“I still think you should sue Mr. Muħammad,” I grumbled. “Or better yet, let me pay him a visit.”
“I’m willing to tag along,” Ashok too said quickly.
“No!” Al Furqān Al Firdaus snapped. “I can take of him myself.”
We changed the subject and went back to finishing breakfast.
It didn’t take long.
The maidservants cleaned the kitchen afterward.
It went quickly.
“I guess it’s time to go home and face the music,” Shaguftah Jamīl sighed.
“Yeah,” Ashok said, shaking his head.
I could see that he was brewing for a fight already.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus took one look and sighed.
She could see it too.
“I think maybe I’d better come with you two,” she said. “I haven’t visited your father in law for a long time anyway.”
“Thanks, Aunt Al Furqān Al Firdaus,” Shaguftah Jamīl said.
The three of them disappeared not long afterward.
“I’m wiped,” I sighed once they all were gone.
“I guess that means I can’t convince you to help me clean?” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus asked.
“You clean?” I joked. “It will never happen! Do you even know how to wash a dish?”
“Very funny,” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, said. “You jerk.”
Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus really wasn’t much of a cleaner.
She could do it when she put her mind to it, but that wasn’t very often.
I wasn’t much better, but I’d been known to throw a load of laundry on every so often. I even vacuumed upon rare occasions.
“You aren’t serious, are you?” I asked.
“Yes I am,” she replied. “Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s had a tough few days.”
I frowned and nodded.
I was very tired, but Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus was right.
On the other hand, cleaning could wait a little while.
“How about we take a nap first?” I asked. “Al Furqān Al Firdaus will be over Anwar’s all day. I really am wiped.”
“Hmm,” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, said thoughtfully. “That does sound good, but I need a shower first.”
“Enjoy,” I shrugged. “Bed time for me.”
Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus was first to the stairs.
She climbed them and it actually took me a Moment to realize I was staring at her excellent, extremely beautiful, perfectly round, firm, plump, heavy Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ass.
‘It’s okay!’ I smiled to myself.
After what happened with Al Furqān Al Firdaus, did it really matter?
I took a few Moments to think about Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, and her appearance.
‘Eīshān! Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus’s pretty hot!’
It wasn’t that I didn’t know what she looked like or that I thought she wasn’t attractive before, but I’d never truly looked at her as a Musalmān girl.
No, that’s not right.
I’d never looked at her in a sexual way, and I was now.
I couldn’t help myself.
Damn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever sexy Musalmān lady brigade!
I had already fucked a twenty eight at night, yet I was still thinking of her younger sister, twenty three only.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had successfully changed my taste.
Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus had Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s blond hair and she was built athletically.
Her excellent, extremely beautiful, perfectly round, firm, plump, heavy Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ass was big, and rounded nicely from all the sports she played in high school and college.
She was a gym teacher and it showed.
Her ever excellent ever erect Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān breasts weren’t nearly as big as Al Furqān Al Firdaus’s, but they were still pretty amazing on her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body.
“What?” Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus asked when we reached the top of the stairs.
She obviously noticed the attention I was giving her.
“You know,” I said, breaking one of the unspoken rules between us. “You could do a lot better than Vijay Vikram Pratāp.”
I saw her start to swell up angrily, but then she stopped and sighed, letting out a breath.
“You’re right,” she said, surprising me. “It’s too bad really. He’s handsome and smart.”
“Pretty packaging doesn’t make a good guy,” I said. “And neither does brains. And what’s with the total lack of a sense of humor?”
“Okay, MuslimātRamañ Hindu, ease off,” she said pointedly.
I raised my hands with palm toward her in surrender.
Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, rolled her awfully attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes and laughed.
I’d learned long ago not to comment on Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister’s Hindu boyfriend.
The fact that she hadn’t jumped all over me when I offered up my opinion about Vijay Vikram Pratāp said a lot about how close she was to dumping him already.
“See you in a couple of hours,” I said, entering my room.
The clean sheets felt wonderful and I was out almost instantly.
I woke up slowly.
It took me a few minutes to realize I wasn’t alone in my room.
Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus had pulled my desk chair out and was sitting in it, facing me.
She looked as if she’d be there for a while.
I looked at Al Ħabībah Al Firdaus, my ‘Bahoo Bégum’(?)’s sister, and rubbed my face as I fought to wake up.
Whatever was bothering her was bad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up.
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