Flowers never weigh: 3

Flowers never weigh

Durgesh

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Chapter 3

I said, taking her hand,

“Sure,”

We began walking.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān couldn’t help but glance back at me to see if I was watching her…

I wasn’t.

Oddly, that made Al Ħabībah Al Imrān feel sad, which was, of course, ludicrous.

She loved Durgesh actually.

Doesn’t she?

She loved Durgesh fucked her.

Allah!

The same Anant Muslimātchod Hindu she hated so much!

As we walked down the trail, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had the sudden urge to show me Al Ħabībah Al Imrān loved me.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān needed to make up for Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s indiscretion by doing something to Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s oblivious husband.

Twenty minutes in the hike, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān saw a small side path and said,

“Follow me.”

I said,

“Al Ħabībah Al Imrān, I don’t think this is a trail.”

“Al Ħabībah Al Imrān hopes not,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān purred, trying to look sexy and with intent.

A couple of minutes later, deep enough in the woods that we couldn’t be seen, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān dropped to her knees and bravely fished out my Uncut Hindu Cock.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān considered letting me fuck her, but Al Ħabībah Al Imrān sure didn’t want me to know Al Ħabībah Al Imrān wasn’t wearing panties.

I smiled,

“Al Ħabībah Al Imrān, really here?”

“You always say you wish Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was more spontaneous,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān quipped, which if I knew just how spontaneous Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had been today I would likely keel over.

Plus, although we had a reasonable amount of sex and Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was very willing in the bedroom, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was not really a risk taker outside the bedroom.

But insecurity, or belief that sex was for the bedroom, seemed to be shattered after the exhilarating, taboo sex Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had in the backseat of the car.

Suddenly, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān wanted to take risks.

Before I could say anything, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān took my flaccid Uncut Hindu Cock in Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān loved sucking cock… always had.

Was a bit of a cock sucking Sex Obsessed Sex Addict in high school, deciding it was a good way to save Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s virginity for marriage.

Plus, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was good at it and actually liked the unique feeling and taste of cum.

Of course, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān ended up not saving Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s virginity for marriage, getting fucked at the first college party Al Ħabībah Al Imrān went to by a college senior.

“Oh shit,” Muħammad Imrān groaned, “what has gotten into you?”

The answer to that question was his daughter, but that definitely didn’t seem like a good answer.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān pulled my Uncut Hindu Cock out of her proud Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and asked,

“Can’t a wife show her husband she loves him by sucking his cock and swallowing his load?”

“Yes she can,” I laughed.

“Plus, I’m hungry and your Hindu cum has a lot of healthy nutrients for a body,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān quipped, taking my Uncut Hindu Cock back in her proud Musalmān mouth.

“And for your complexion, too,” I added, having heard from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, her  ever–Durgesh– obsessed young Musalmān lady brigade ,from Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Shékħ  and from even her so uncommunal ever sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān husband Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Shékħ that sucking my Hindu cum was very good for a Musalmān woman’s complexion.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān protested,

“Don’t you dare.”

“What? You think I would be shocked?” I teased, sliding my Uncut Hindu Cock back in Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān thought to herself,

‘If you only knew.’

Yet, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān kept bobbing, feeling oddly exhilarated doing it in such a public place.

“I’m not going to last long,” I moaned, after an hour approximately, as Al Ħabībah Al Imrān hungrily sucked my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān kept bobbing and was rewarded with a full load of my Hindu cum in her proud Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān gasped, “Really?”

“Al Ħabībah Al Imrān, I couldn’t resist,” I smiled triumphantly cunningly, as I slid my Uncut Hindu Cock back in her proud Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had two weaknesses her ever moral Musalmān husband, Muħammad Imrān, always hated to fulfill.

She loved to suck Cock.

She loved to have anal sex even.

Allah! Thank God, Durgesh allowed his beautiful Musalmān houseladies both with him.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān milked the last remnants of my Hindu cum from my Cock, sat back up and kissed me hard.

When the kiss ended, I said,

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was hungry,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān shrugged, smiling seductively.

“Well, I’m always willing to feed you,” I smiled back as I put my proud Uncut Hindu Cock away.

Most of the mankind that was not Vedic Monotheist Hindu never understood what the womankind really loved to enjoy.

Only Ved has Pavmān Som Mandal in it, neither Al Qur’an Al Karīm, nor Bible.

The Āryans that left Āryāvart, to build their own country, Iran, blamed Indians that they don’t want to progress from their primitive animal instincts.

They termed Pavmān Som Mandal in R’gved impious.

Now, their own history of defeat against Islam was proving them entirely incorrect.

Wasn’t it?

Wasn’t Islam the last and final Arabic version of Vedic Monotheist Hinduism itself?

Wasn’t it the real reason Musalmīn never converted entire India into Islam as they did the other countries?

They never needed to.

The Hindus were already the Musalmīn Everfirst.

We headed back down the trail and resumed the hike hand in hand.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān didn’t know how long it took, but eventually we returned to the beginning.

I whispered,

“You should probably go to the washroom before we head out.”

“Good call,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān nodded, “I really need to use washroom.”

“And clean the cum off,” I teased her smiling playfully.

“Sure. Allah, you let me wear it that whole hike,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān said, somehow forgetting it was on her.

“Well, you didn’t seem too concerned, and we don’t know anyone here,” I shrugged.

“Except my evergreen Hindu ŧhonkū, our Anant Muslimātchod Hindu,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān laughed lightly teasing me too.

“Which is why Al Ħabībah Al Imrān mentioned it,” I winked at her.

“Anant Muslimātchod Hindu scoundrel,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān playfully said, hitting me.

“Maybe tonight,” I countered, occasionally fucking Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s gorgeous Musalmān ass.

“You wish,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān quipped back, even though Al Ħabībah Al Imrān assumed we would indeed be fucking tonight.

“No, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān, I know,” I said, slapping Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s ass lightly playfully.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān went to the washroom.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān grabbed a Gatorade and a chocolate bar and returned to the car.

Her husband and I were leaning against the car, chatting. Al Ħabībah Al Imrān wondered how weird it would be if we were chatting about sex.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān joined us and asked,

“Ready to go?”

“Sure,” Muħammad Imrān said, before adding, “Ready to sit on Durgesh’s lap for a couple of more hours?”

“Ready to have your Al Ħabībah Al Imrān squishing you for a couple of more hours?” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān countered.

“It’s been a tight squeeze,” I countered myself too.

How doesn’t he understand what his ever-horny Musalmān wife is doing right behind him?

Muħammad Imrān wasn’t a Musalmān.

He was one of the numerous Pseudo Musalmīn.

No doubt.

It was easy to be born in Ummat-e-Muslimah.

But it wasn’t easy to be a real Muslim.

Most of the Musalmīn were actually Pseudo Musalmīn today whether knowingly or unknowingly.

Islam was actually an international movement of humanity that was named variously in the past, Vedic Monotheist Hinduism, Persianism, Judaism, Christianity etcetera.

Yazīd malåūn destroyed it.

Now, I was one of the several Musalmīn, Musalmīn Everfirst to be more correct, that were again attempting our best to reestablish the true Islamic movement, opposing the terrorists and other Pseudo Musalmīn everywhere.

Humanity couldn’t survive without it.

 

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān laughed, trying to be casual, feeling that Muħammad Imrān could somehow sense the sexual tension between his wife and me,

“Yes, it’s like a hot box back there.”

I laughed,

“It’s like a weight loss program back there.”

Muħammad Imrān said,

“I’m sorry we hadn’t planned this better.”

I joked, repeating an earlier statement Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had made,

“It’s made for some special Al Ħabībah Al Imrān and my bonding.”

“Well, get ready to bond some more,” Muħammad Imrān  said, “It’s a good two to three hours until our late supper stop.”

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān couldn’t help but laugh and feel mortified at the reality of what Muħammad Imrān was actually approving potentially, especially when Al Ħabībah Al Imrān looked at me.

I had a big smile on my face.

Why the hell shouldn’t have I?

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was serving me her ever-best sex services, perhaps she hadn’t served even to her husband, Muħammad Imrān.

We were back in the car, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was back on my lap, this time on my right leg leaning against the boxes.

Again, like last time, I ignored Al Ħabībah Al Imrān for the first hour.

As Al Ħabībah Al Imrān fidgeted, again uncomfortable, I asked,

“Uncomfortable, my dear?”

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān nodded.

I smiled,

“Me too,” and pulled out my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock from my shorts. “There, that is a lot better.”

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān stared at my semi-erect Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock.*

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān couldn’t take Her eyes off it.

I pointed it to her extremely beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān looked back at me with confusion.

I moved my hand onto Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s leg, under Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s dress and directly to Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s wet Musalmān pussy.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān moaned softly, but thankfully, the music covered it.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān just sat on my lap and allowed me to penis her pussy…

I did it for a good five minutes… getting Al Ħabībah Al Imrān hot and riled.

I then pulled my Uncut Hindu Cock out and put it directly in her mouth.

“Delicious,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān said, loud enough that Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s oblivious husband heard.

“What’s delicious?” Muħammad Imrān asked.

“The snack Al Ħabībah Al Imrān shared with me,” I brazenly replied.

“Is there any left?” Muħammad Imrān asked.

“No, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān ate it all,” I responded, as Al Ħabībah Al Imrān remained stoic and not ashamed.

She looked at me proudly and even triumphantly instead.

It was evident enough she hated her husband immensely and wanted to punish him as much as she could.

Poor Muħammad Imrān.

I couldn’t enjoy it.

Muħammad Imrān wasn’t my enemy exactly.

He was my friend’s son.

Even if my friend suspected his wife had her extramarital affair with me and Muħammad Imrān was actually my own son.

However, most of my male acquaintances suspected so.

He wasn’t alone.

There were many reasons behind it.

They never took sex as seriously as I always did.

Yes, they hated me for it.

Yet, I knew they were even jealous of me for it.

The damn fools.

They never understood what they actually lacked comparatively.

I was a Vedic Monotheist Hindu.

I believed in Pavmān Som Mandal.

I had seriously studied it and still do in my daily Stavans, daily meditations.

It said sex wasn’t dirty ever in itself.

We, the human beings make it dirty due to our immense ignorance, irresponsibility, and ever-adamant immense irrationality due to our inherent inertia.

Sex is divine otherwise.

It is blessed on us to keep our human race exist.

It must be always respected as such.*

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s oblivious husband said, continuing the surreal conversation,

“Al Ħabībah Al Imrān, I too could use a snack,”

“Me too,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān added, staring at my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock and licking her lips with wanton intent.

“Maybe next car stop,” I suggested.

“I’m definitely stopping,” Muħammad Imrān said. “Al Ħabībah Al Imrān, I could use a bathroom break anyway.”

“It’s hot back here,” I said, also taking my shirt off, suddenly showcasing my rock hard abs… something Muħammad Imrān had lost years ago.

It was a miracle for others.

Yet, for me it was a natural scientific process.

The others could never achieve it, because they never tried to complete the scientific process involved for it.

It was the main problem of the losers ever.

They thought they had nothing to learn from the gainers ever.

Most of the losers were always losers because they never tried to learn anything from their failures even.

I then took her hand and guided it to my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān should have resisted, but the invisible magnetic pull was too much.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān took it in her hand and stroked it, even as Muħammad Imrān could stare at us in the rear view mirror if he wished… although he would only see her hungry face.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān wished Al Ħabībah Al Imrān could suck my lovely, Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock, but that was literally impossible in the confined space.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had accepted, as Al Ħabībah Al Imrān stroked and stared at my majestic Uncut Hindu Cock, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was willing to allow me to fuck her again.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān wanted and needed that my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock in her.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was ready to climb on top and go for a ride when Muħammad Imrān said,

“Pulling over.”

His words and the slowing car brought Al Ħabībah Al Imrān back to reality like a cold shower.

A reality that Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was stroking my Uncut Hindu Cock and about to willingly ride me.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān let go of my cock and to Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s surprise, I didn’t put my cock away, as we rolled to a stop at a small town gas station.

Muħammad Imrān said, “Five minute stop,” as he exited.

“Two minute snack,” I said, opening the door, and ordering, “suck me, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān.”

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān gasped.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān wanted to suck me, but couldn’t believe I wanted Al Ħabībah Al Imrān to here, even though Muħammad Imrān had conveniently parked in a secluded spot.

“Hurry up, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān,” I ordered, “we only have time for an appetizer.”

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān quickly got out of the car, overwhelmed with insatiable hunger and lust, turned around, and demanded, as Al Ħabībah Al Imrān lowered her Panjvaqtah Namāzī beautiful young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth onto my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock, “Watch for the damn fool.”

“Yes, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān,” I groaned, as Al Ħabībah Al Imrān took most of my Uncut Hindu Cock in Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s beautiful Musalmān mouth.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān bobbed quickly.
Al Ħabībah Al Imrān would have liked to savor sucking my cock, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān loved to worship the Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock, but time was of the essence.

So Al Ħabībah Al Imrān furiously bobbed up and down, enjoying the groans coming from my mouth.

“I’m close, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān,” I warned and Al Ħabībah Al Imrān bobbed faster making it clear I had permission to cum in my new live in relationship partner, her mouth.

Then suddenly I said,

“Muħammad Imrān! Muħammad Imrān! Muħammad Imrān!”

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān quickly left and saw Muħammad Imrān with a small bag.

I asked,

“You have to pee, don’t you?”

“You know me,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān shrugged, as Al Ħabībah Al Imrān headed into the gas station and to the washroom.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān looked in the mirror.

What was coming over her?

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had no answer to the question.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān sucked me in a gas station parking lot and was seconds from swallowing my load.

For someone who wasn’t really a risk taker, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had ridden me to orgasm in the backseat of the car while Muħammad Imrān drove, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had sucked and swallowed my load on a secluded hiking trail and just now sucked me.

And I likely wanted her to finish what Al Ħabībah Al Imrān started when we were back on the road.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān returned to the car.

Both men were already in the car.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān repositioned again on my lap, my Uncut Hindu Cock was already out and looking like it was expecting to get some tender loving care.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān moved back on the same right leg Al Ħabībah Al Imrān was on before we stopped.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān liked being able to keep an eye on Muħammad Imrān and me.

As soon as we were back on the highway, I pointed back to my Cock.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān wordlessly reached over and began stroking it, even as Muħammad Imrān had a conversation with me.

“So about seventy miles and then we will stop for dinner and a hotel,” Muħammad Imrān said.

“Sounds good,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān said, again with a double meaning, “I’ll be starving by then, I may even have to have a nice juicy T-bone.”

“Me too,” Muħammad Imrān suggested, which Al Ħabībah Al Imrān had to bite Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s lip to not laugh.

“What about you, Durgesh, what are you hungry for?” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān asked, giving me a look that spoke volumes.

I moved my hand underneath Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s dress again and responded, my eyes never leaving hers,

“Oh, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān, I was hoping for the ultimate.”

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān tried to change the topic,

“Did you book us a hotel yet?”

Muħammad Imrān, never the planner, shrugged,

“Nope.”

Feeling a rush of exhilaration at chatting with Muħammad Imrān while simultaneously stroking my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Cock, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān asked, “Shouldn’t we?”

“There will be space,” Muħammad Imrān blindly believed.

“Okay,” Al Ħabībah Al Imrān shrugged, Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s focus at the moment was on My cock.

“Looking forward to living on your own, Durgesh?” Muħammad Imrān asked.

“I’m going to have a roommate,” I pointed out.

“Oh, right,” Muħammad Imrān nodded, “are you looking forward to meeting her?”*

“Al Ħabībah Al Imrān I guess,” I responded, distracted by the way Al Ħabībah Al Imrān’s fingers traced around my mushroom top.

“Hopefully you get along,” Muħammad Imrān continued, trying to keep the dying conversation going.

Al Ħabībah Al Imrān asked,

“Who couldn’t love our sweet Durgesh?”

“Yes, I’m pretty much irresistible,” I quipped.

“Is that a good thing?” Muħammad Imrān questioned.

“Sometimes,” I answered.

Chapter 4

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Similar Stories from Durgesh

1. Al Jihad fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh 20

2. Flowers never weigh

3. Durgesh Sanā Rashīd

4. The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies 43, 45. 46

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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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