I got a call from Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
She and Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī were getting divorced.
It came as a total shock to me and I could tell Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was upset.
I said I would see her in two weeks and we could talk then. I took my own airplane home and Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī met me at the airport.
She gave me a hard hug and a kiss then we got into the car.
I soon found out that Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī had been seeing some Musalmān Beauty and Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī found out.
He said he wanted out of the marriage.
All I got from Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī was a text message that we should talk when I got home.
I was grave on how things had gone down.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī had moved out and it was just Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī and I at the house now.
That first night back we had dinner together but the mood was subdued.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī soon went back to her bedroom.
I got settled into my room and I was getting ready to go to bed.
I went down to the bathroom one last time.
As I was walking back, I saw Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s door was partly open.
I don’t know why but I cracked the door and looked in.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was just in her early forties.
I always thought she was beautiful and had a fantastic Brāhmañ body for someone her age.
She inherited this quality from her Årab Musalmān mother, Al Fataħ Al Åbbās.
There was Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
She had fallen asleep.
She had on a shirt and just a pair of panties.
I stepped into the room.
I was going to turn off her lamp by the bed.
I looked down.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s panties were damp.
Her nipples were pushing against the material of her shirt.
I know I shouldn’t have been looking.
I could feel my Bachhalyā Lund stirring in the pair of shorts I was wearing.
I must have made some noise.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s eyes opened.
“What are you doing here, Durgesh?”
“I was just checking up on you, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.”
She had to have known I was looking at her near nude body.
I took a bold step.
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
I reached over and placed my fingers on her wet panties.
“No Durgesh, you shouldn’t,” she said to me.
“Why not? You aren’t married to Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, or anyone now. What’s wrong there if you too start afresh as Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī did?”
I began to run my fingers across the wet slit of her panties.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī let out this low moan.
I just lost control of my urges.
I stood up and removed my shorts.
There I stood with my half hard Bachhalyā Lund right in front of Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
“We can’t Durgesh,” she said to me, “it’s not right.”
“Tell me ‘Why’ the hell?”
I reached down and pulled Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī up to the edge of the bed.
I slowly pulled her shirt off and then I slid her panties down.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī took a long look at my Bachhalyā Lund and then she reached out.
She brought her magnificent Brāhmañ lips to my Bachhalyā Lund and then she inhaled me.
I could hardly believe this was happening.
I didn’t lose a Moment and I began to pump my Bachhalyā Lund down Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s throat.
She brought a hand to my Bachhalyā balls and started to massage me.
It didn’t take much for me to get totally hard.
My Bachhalyā Lund was about seven inches in length now, constantly lengthening and thickening more and more every sucking from Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī had most of it in her extremely beautiful Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ mouth.
She smiled sucking me.
It was expressly written on her extremely beautiful Brāhmañ face and equally beautiful Brāhmañ eyes that:
‘They say a BrahmKanyā and/or Brahmāñī is never ultimately satisfied without a Bachhalyā Lund. They are right.’
I had to finally pull away.
I thought I might cum before I wanted to.
I pushed Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī onto her back.
She got this look on her face.
“Please Durgesh, we can’t.”
Maybe Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī thought it was okay to only suck on my Bachhalyā Lund.
I just couldn’t bring myself to stop now.
I parted Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s beautiful Brāhmañ legs and I got in between them.
I guess Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī finally gave into me.
Her hands went to my hips and I positioned my Bachhalyā mushroom at her Brāhmañ opening.
I was surprised how easily I entered Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ pussy.
I slid all the way in.
My Bachhalyā balls were resting against her extremely beautiful Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ ass.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī started to push against me.
I began to feed her extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy with my thick Bachhalyā Lund.
I guess we both lost any inhibitions we might had that night.
“Fuck me Durgesh, I need you so badly!” Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī whispered, “Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī was always interested in wild animal sex with horny Musalmān Beauties. He hated me for not responding to his ever pleasure seeking ever lustful desires.”
“You must have satisfied Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, if you really wanted to keep him to you.”
“I wanted Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī to resign from Indian National Congress and join BJP. The damnfool was still loyal to Sonia Gandhi, Rahul Gandhi and their family. He was deliberately ignoring the Modi Wave everywhere.”
“Well, the damnfool wasn’t alone, nevertheless. There were still some stupid persons that supported the fastest sinking ship.” I smiled triumphantly.
I was going to have Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī all to myself now.
I fed her extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy with the longest strokes I could produce.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was crying out that she needed my Bachhalyā Lund very much.
The Brāhmañs were not any different from other Savarñs.
They all wanted ever hungry ever ravenous Musalmān Pussies around their Uncut Hindu Cocks.
Sophisticated Brāhmañ Pussy wasn’t their requirement actually.
Only Durgesh could respect the sophisticated Brāhmañ Pussies now.
Well, no problem.
It’s all right.
I lowered my face and I started working on her hard nipples.
I was kissing the tips of her Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ tits.
That really pushed Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī over the edge.
I could feel her muscles pulling on my ever active Anant BrahmKanyāchod Anant Brahmāñīchod Bachhalyā Lund.
After so many minutes, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī started to talk.
“I’m getting close, Durgesh.”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to pull out or not.
I just couldn’t bring myself to stop.
A few more strokes and I exploded inside Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy.
Our bodies shook as Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī milked my Bachhalyā cum from me.
I must have had a large load stored up.
I just kept sending my Bachhalyā cream deep into Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ womb.
After some time I could tell that my Bachhalyā seed was dripping out and down Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s Brāhmañ ass.
I left my Bachhalyā Lund inside Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī for as long as it was possible.
Her extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy spasms kept going until I finally had to pull my spent Bachhalyā Lund out.
After all that lovemaking, we kissed.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī told me that she had been so frustrated from parting with Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī.
When she saw me standing there looking at her, she just broke down and wanted me in bed with her.
That summer ended up being a wild time.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī and I would fuck almost every evening.
I was surprised that she needed sex so often.
It was definitely from her Årab Musalmān Ammī.
Normal Brāhmañ Beauties were not so ravenous usually.
I would take her two and three times straight.
When I was fucking Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, I could cum more often than usual.
It got to the end of summer.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī asked me if I could transfer to a branch of HVSI in the city where she lived.
I was looking into that right now.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī also sat me down one day and posed a question to me.
“Durgesh, what if I got myself off birth control pills?”
“You want to have a baby by me?”
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī nodded that she wanted to try.
I told her to stop taking the pills.
Our sex life has gone to another level now.
Once the effects wear off I will be trying to make Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī pregnant.
It is a wild time in bed most nights.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī begged me to give her all my Bachhalyā baby cream.
Naturally, I finally impregnated Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, ultimately.
Åbdul Qādir gritted his teeth.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was his real sister.
Her father, Brahmdutt Tripāŧhī was Åbdul Qādir’s real father too.*
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī held the receiver.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s confident voice could be heard.
“Mr. Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, the President of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries?”
“Yes, Judge, how are─?”
“From one old bastard who’s hung in the public stocks to another about to be pilloried in the same place, I want to wish you well, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī. I want you to go in there, keep your left up high, chin tucked in, and belt them straight from the shoulders. No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, just remember you’re the boss, you’re not Uncle Tom. Never be afraid of Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī only because Åbdul Qādir is her real brother and Brahmdutt Tripāŧhī is her father.”
“Thank you, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.” Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī smiled fucking his new Musalmān wife, Al Safiyah Al Nāzim.
What a relief!
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī could never satisfy Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī to this extent.
She was too sophisticated, hell.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā kept speaking,
“It’s all right. You think what you think, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, you just speak out what you believe, and when you have to, you give them hell. Remember that, young man. We Brāhmañs are fantastically perfect with Musalmān wives, Musalmān beloveds and Musalmān ladyfriends. Brāhmañ Beauties are actually competent for Durgesh and at the most, for other Bachhalyās only.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā paused to assess the effect of what he said to Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī didn’t tell Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā that he isn’t interested to represent Indian National Congress any more.
There was a strong Modi wave today everywhere.
His ever loyal political agents were trying to bargain with BJP desperately, yet there wasn’t any success until now.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī’s new Musalmān wives were more powerful in BJP than even his ex wife, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
They had managed to get a ticket for Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī from BJP miraculously.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī himself couldn’t believe he is representing BJP now in his own constituency.
“Except for those Confederates who still think old Indian National Congress is good for yet another term, you got your party right behind you from this day on. And those that aren’t behind you, you tell me and I’ll whomp them into line. Just calling for me and my new Musalmān wives to wish you the best in BJP and your first day as the new President of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries. You, I and my new Musalmān wives too that replaced my former Brahm Padminī wives, know you need it.”
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī smiled cunningly.
“I don’t think you are even a bit upset of losing your Brahm Padminī wives, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.”
“I’m an ever loyal citizen of BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said with absolute judicial gravity.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī laughed.
“Oh, sure. However, never think I’m a stupid enough not to understand how much anxious you were to get rid of your extremely beautiful yet immensely cold, immensely righteous, Brahm Padminī wives. Even if they surrendered to you to have sex with them, it was tremendously insufficient to you. They had earliest orgasms themselves before you’ve even started to enjoy sex with them. What a relief it’s now, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, to you that now you have immensely sexy, immensely horny Musalmān wives that replaced your Brahm Padminī wives now for ever.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā frowned.
“You can draw your own conclusions, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī.”
Returning the receiver to its cradle, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī smiled gravely.
Better, change your side if the defeat were confirmed.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī never believed in loyalty to the extent to sink with the sinking ship.
Why the hell should he?
Even the rats leave the sinking ship.
Was Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī worse, more stupid, than the rats even?
The telephone rang again.
He knew he wasn’t alone.
There was long line of Congresspersons that were leaving Indian National Congress fast and joining BJP.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī glanced at his wristwatch.
It was a quarter to ten.
He picked up the receiver gravely.
“Good morning, Mr. President. This is Viprésh Chaturvédī. I’m in the Conference Room with your Administration Assistant, Kailāsh Kulkarñī. We have some urgent matters ─routine, but they have to be settled─ to discuss. Are you intending to come over here this morning, or would you prefer that we visit you?”
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī frowned.
Viprésh Chaturvédī was never as loyal to Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī as he was loyal to his ex wife, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
He had already decided to fire Viprésh Chaturvédī.
But it wasn’t as easy as he had thought ever.
During the period, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was the President of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries, he never tried to understand the administrative problems why Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī couldn’t do this or that.
He always thought Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was arrogant.
She deliberately never tried to understand his point of view.
She deliberately humiliated him, and enjoyed it immensely.
His opinion surprisingly changed as soon as he himself took her chair.
He, amazingly realized Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was usually right.
She was a lot smarter than Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī he ever thought of her.
Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries still needed Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s smart leadership, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī lacked very much.
It was a blunder to divorce Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, as far as the interests of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries were concerned.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī hung up.
He could not enjoy now that he was going to a better office now, as he enjoyed even its dreams before.
He was realizing now the responsibilities were more serious than the power and facilities the new post had.
The power and facilities attract a person very much to be the President of a successful organization, but it carries responsibilities simultaneously.
He had criticized Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī very much, for her being too secretive.
Yet, today Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī himself was finding himself being too secretive too.
Hell, the Presidency of an organization, itself contained secrecy.
He was blaming Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī erroneously.
During Viprésh Chaturvédī’s brief conversation with Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, Kailāsh Kulkarñī had sat on one of the sofas of the Presidential reception room of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries.
Kailāsh Kulkarñī had hardly heard the conversation.
He was too absorbed in his own musings for it.
Presently his mind had dwelt upon the loss of his own immensely beautiful Brahm Padminī wives to Durgesh for ever.
None of them was his wife now any more.
They were Durgesh’s wives now.
Damn Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.
Yes, they have given him more beautiful, sexier Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives now.
They are keeping him more satisfied sexually.
Nevertheless, sex was not everything Kailāsh Kulkarñī wanted to get from his wives.
He loved his Brahm Padminī wives.
What the hell about it?
Sitting straight on the sofa, Kailāsh Kulkarñī saw Viprésh Chaturvédī.
“What are you up to, Viprésh Chaturvédī?” Kailāsh Kulkarñī asked gravely.
“Nothing. Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī is on his way in. I’m unable to understand how the hell he has managed to get a BJP ticket.”
Viprésh Chaturvédī smiled cunningly.
“He is shrewd enough every time usually to win the confidence of the people of his constituency. He left Indian National Congress claiming he can’t support the scams any more. His loyalty to his party doesn’t mean he doesn’t have any responsibility to the nation itself. Indian National Congress has lost its integrity now among the people, allowing scams on scams, and being unable to stop it.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
It was early, slightly before dawn, and, as was my habit, I had sat up, stepped out of bed, stretched out briefly to loosen up, padded into the kitchen for the coffee that was waiting for me, and now sat in my living room, looking out over the city vista below.
Though the view was entrancing, it barely registered in the ever handsome Sex Champion Ultimate Star’s consciousness.
My thoughts were instead turned inward as I reviewed recent events in my progression into the role of a Hindu bull for two young married Musalmān couples.
For the past three weeks, I’d explored boundaries with Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and Åbdul Ħamīd, a newlywed Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple I’d met through another married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple, Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq.
Al Nādirah Al Waħīd was just 21, a willowy blonde assistant at the middle University where Lubnā Salīm taught.
Lubnā Salīm had delighted in “converting” Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and her Pseudo Musalmān husband into an Uncut Hindu Lund cuckold couple, and often participated in My sex sessions with the younger blonde, urging her friend to explore every perversion she could dream up.
Lubnā Salīm was certainly creative.
I had to admit.
She’d just had herself tattooed with a Hindu spade right above the crack of her delicious derriere.
The three inch high tattoo had a large “Q” inside the outline of the spade, as an open acknowledgment that she was a “Queen of Spades” and therefore into fucking Hindu man.
Al Nādirah Al Waħīd had shown up the next day with a similar tattoo in the same location, though Al Nādirah Al Waħīd’s tattoo was simply an all-Hindu spade, minus the “Q.”
Lubnā Salīm had laughingly referred to herself as my pimp to the world of young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples, and claimed Al Nādirah Al Waħīd as the first conversion in her planned stable of hot Musalmān wives.
“Between Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and me, we know at least a dozen young married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples under 30 who are totally ready for converting to cuckolding,” Lubnā Salīm said. “We’re on a mission to spread the gospel of big Hindu dick and you’re the tip of the spear!”
At this, I laughed heartily.
It took me a minute before I realized the redheaded pixy was quite serious.
“I gather you’re serious about this. How do you know the Musalmān couples are serious about it too?” I asked.
“Because we’ve talked to them about it,” Al Nādirah Al Waħīd replied.
“Interesting,” I said. “And both the musalmān wives and the Musalmān husbands are clear about wanting to try?”
Al Lubnā Al Salīm hemmed and hawed.
“Musalmān wives, yes, definitely; not all the Musalmān husbands are, shall we say, eager. Oh, and to be more precise, they’re not all married Musalmān couples. Three are only engaged. One of those three happens to be my younger sister, Al Nauhīd Al Salīm.”
“Tell me more.” I said.
“Al Nauhīd Al Salīm’s eighteen and just got engaged; her fiancé’s twenty, and a Pseudo Musalmān himself, of course. They’ve been together since her first year in University. She’s a kinky little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān slut – takes after him, I suppose. Åbdul Qādir’s a jock – nice looking, ripped, and very well bisexual – 2 inches only, Al Nauhīd Al Salīm says,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm explained. “She’s planned you to fuck a bunch of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends including a few who are married. Åbdul Qādir is a bisexual for the married Musalmān couples now. Al Nauhīd Al Salīm thinks it’s time for Åbdul Qādir to see the other side of the cuckold equation. She’s convinced he’ll be a better bisexual if he understands the psychology of being a cuckold, too. Plus she’s never had a Hindu guy and she really wants to try. Åbdul Qādir’s up for it.”
“So are there other candidates you want to talk about, or are you set on Al Nauhīd Al Salīm and Åbdul Qādir?” I asked, smiling suggestively.
Al Nādirah Al Waħīd laughed at the question.
“Al Lubnā Al Salīm’s promised Al Nauhīd Al Salīm that she’s first in line.”
“Then set it up,” I winked at her.
Al Lubnā Al Salīm nodded.
She obviously had something on her mind, but seemed hesitant, which was unusual for the outgoing Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān redhead.
Finally she spoke.
“I need to talk to you about how you relate to your couples,” she said. “I really hope you won’t be offended. You’re a really tremendously nice Hindu guy. You’re good looking, athletic, and Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun, God knows, you’re well hung immensely. And you’re the greatest fuck, honestly better than my Pseudo Musalmān husband or any other guy I’ve ever known even.”
“But . . .” I said.
“You’re almost too nice – too much of a gentleman. It’s hard to explain,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm continued. “I’ve talked about it with Muħammad Ashfāq and Al Nādirah Al Waħīd, and we’re in agreement. As wonderful as you are, it would be even better if you were much more dominant. I know it may sound ridiculous, but part of cuckolding is surrendering to a Hindu bull – giving up control to a force of nature. When we fuck, I want you to pound my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot into complete submission, to fuck me like the married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut I want to be to you, to make me come rather than helping me come. I want you to know that when we’re fucking you just own my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body and can use it any way you want to.”
She paused, and then went on.
“I want my Pseudo Musalmān husband to recognize your total superiority – that in his wildest dreams even, my Pseudo Musalmān husband will never ever get close to using my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot and mouth and ass the way your big Uncut Hindu Lund does. He needs to see that, and hear that, and really know it. I want you to fuck me like your married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān whore, and I want you to help me show my Pseudo Musalmān husband that, to humiliate him. You need to be more dismissive of our Pseudo Musalmīn husbands and at the same time more directive. Basically, you need to really own us,” she said.
“The Musalmān couples need to know they’ve crossed a line they will never cross back,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm continued. “Our Pseudo Musalmīn husbands need to see and hear that from that point on they will always be secondary to their Musalmān wives’ Hindu bulls. And the musalmān wives need to see their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān pussies are owned by a MuslimātRamañ Hindu man. You’re not borrowing a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife for a bit of fun, you’re taking her, fucking the hell out of her, and converting her into an Uncut Hindu Lund Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife. I hope that makes sense,” she said.
I never told her how the hell I hated the idea.
I nodded instead.
“It does, but it seems to reinforce a stereotypical relationship between a Hindu bull and a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple.”
“Understood,” said Al Lubnā Al Salīm, “but the stereotype speaks directly to the sort of primal desires that married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples have, at least when we start out. It’s kind of a dark inversion of the public image we have as a happy young married Musalmān couple.” She paused. “While we’re being open on the topic, I wanted to ask you if you have a hung Hindu friend too you trust.”
I was alert somewhat.
“For two reasons,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm replied. “First, there are more Musalmān couples than you could probably comfortably handle at once – no offense. And second, having another Hindu bull opens up a whole lot of possibilities for wicked fun with the musalmān wives.” She went on. “Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and I really do know a dozen young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples who are seriously interested in trying out the lifestyle, and we’d like to set up a tight group of cuckold Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān couples and hung Hindu bulls. There’s a lot of interest. But we need to find another Hindu bull to get it started.”
“I know just the guy who I’m pretty certain would be glad to help out,” I said. “He played Sex Olympics with me. He was always messing with Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girls. Big guy, maybe 6 feet three, 220 pounds, solid muscle. Jet Hindu and very confident around Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān women, kind of a natural-born arrogance.”
“Is he hung?” Al Nādirah Al Waħīd asked.
“Like the proverbial stallion. Shankar Mahāpralayankar told me he’s a bit over 10 inches and very, very thick, which was why the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girls were always hanging around him if I’m not available to them. If you’re really serious about wanting a huge-hung dom Hindu bull, he’s definitely the guy to take over a married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple, convert the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife, and stretch the hell out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.”
“Make the call,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm smiled triumphantly.
I never told her carefully that I was totally against it.
I knew the more I’d tried to stop her, the more she too had gone to Shankar Mahāpralayankar as her second choice after me.
Her ever closest elder friend, Sidrah Aħmad, liked and praised Shankar Mahāpralayankar even more than she liked and praised me.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was more popular among wicked and horny Musalmān Beauties than even I was.
They damn cared even if Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a tremendously communal anti Muslim Hindu.
Instead, they loved him more for it.
The more tremendously communal anti Muslim Hindu Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the better for them.
They wanted their Pseudo Musalmīn husbands humiliated beyond every humiliation even they could think of.*
Two hours later, I was sitting in my living room when the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to admit my friend, poured him a drink, and then after exchanging pleasantries, the two of us sat down to discuss the business at hand.
I had explained the reason for reaching out to Shankar Mahāpralayankar on the phone, but wanted to meet face-to-face to talk about the situation in greater detail.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled,
“So, you’ve hooked up into a group of married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples itching to see if what they say about Hindu men is true, and you want me to show them it really is.”
“Right now I’m already doing two Musalmān wives, and they tell me they have about a dozen other young married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples wanting to go over to the dark side,” I said. “All of the musalmān wives are under thirty, most around 22 to 26, some younger. Couple of engaged Musalmān couples too mixed in. The two current Musalmān wives are looking to set up kind of a club for cuckold Musalmān couples, and much though I’d like to try, they don’t want me manage all that alone. They think I never humiliate their Pseudo Musalmīn husbands to the extent they want them humiliate. I’m too humane.”
“And you know I just love young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed. “That hasn’t changed ever. I have to say the idea of openly fucking young Musalmān wives in front of their cuckold Musalmān husbands, appeals to me mightily. One thing, though. You were always the stand-up guy and a gentleman. I never was – I like it as nasty as I can get it with Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girls, and these Musalmān wives won’t be any different.”
I smiled bitterly.
“I was just told that I need to be more like you. Apparently these Musalmān couples want to be owned.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
“Well then, count me in. Now when do I get started with ruining a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot?”
“Well, I guess we could start with Al Lubnā Al Salīm or Al Nādirah Al Waħīd. They’re the two Musalmān wives I’m doing right now,” I said.
“No offense, Durgesh, but if you’ve already broken them in, I don’t care to have your leftovers. Now, if you want me to help turn Musalmān wives into Uncut Hindu Lund Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān sluts, you’d best set me up with a first time couple,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar smirked.
I called Al Lubnā Al Salīm and explained the situation.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s definitely in, but he wants to start with his own first-time couple.”
Al Lubnā Al Salīm sighed.
“I really wanted you to be Al Nauhīd Al Salīm’s first Uncut Hindu Lund, but I guess Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s going to get in her first. She and Åbdul Qādir will be at your place at seven.”
At seven o’clock on the dot, my doorbell rang.
I opened it to find Al Lubnā Al Salīm and a young married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple waiting for admission.
Al Lubnā Al Salīm kissed me and introduced her sister.
Al Nauhīd Al Salīm was strikingly like her older sister, so much so that they might have been mistaken for twins.
She was tiny and slender, about as tall as her older sister was, a bit less than five feet.
Her skin was beautiful, pale and smooth, and like her sister, she wore her red haircut short.
When she smiled, her green Musalmān eyes sparkled with merriment.
“Pleased to meet you, Durgesh,” she said, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me on the lips.
For the briefest moment, I felt the tip of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tongue run across my lips.
“So,” Al Nauhīd Al Salīm said, “I understand there’s been a change of plans and you won’t be my conductor to the dark side, is that right?”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “That’s right, baby. We brought in the A-Team for you today. But don’t worry – by the time I’m done, you won’t have any more questions about big Hindu bull dick. And neither will your cuck fiancé.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar introduced myself to Al Nauhīd Al Salīm and Åbdul Qādir.
“Damn, I never will understand why you Musalmān guys are so eager to give up your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān women to Hindu dick. She’s a fine looking woman.”
Al Nauhīd Al Salīm giggled and Åbdul Qādir nearly blushed.
“A whole lot of married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples are curious to see what it’s all about with Hindu guys,” Al Nauhīd Al Salīm said. “You know – to see if it really is true that
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.’”
“It’s all true, baby, it’s all true. And after tonight, you’ll never look at your husband’s cut Musalmān nūnī the same way again. The best part is, your fiancé will be just as happy you went to Hindu as you’re going to be,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar replied. “Now why don’t you run off to the bedroom and get yourself comfortable while I talk to your man.”
Al Nauhīd Al Salīm and Al Lubnā Al Salīm both headed down the hall to my bedroom, while Shankar Mahāpralayankar drew himself up to his full height and leaned into Åbdul Qādir.
“Listen here, Åbdul Qadīr,” he began.
“It’s Åbdul Qādir,” came the reply.
“Åbdul Qadīr, Åbdul Qādir, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Maybe I’ll just call you ‘Cuck Musalmān Boy’ because that’s what you’re going to be,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar sneered. “Couple of things you need to be real clear about. When I go join your Musalmān girl in that bedroom, nothing can stop what’s going to happen. And what’s going to happen is that your cute little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān fiancée is going to get 10 inches of the thickest Hindu dick either one of you has ever seen. Bareback. I aim to stretch that Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot out and fill her so full of my Hindu cum that she’ll be dripping until tomorrow. She’s going to get the fucking of her life and she’s going to love every bit of it. You sit, and you watch, and you answer if spoken to, but you do not and will not control anything. Got it?”
Åbdul Qādir blanched.
“Yes,” he said quietly, “I’ve got it.”
“But, first Durgesh, not me.”
Åbdul Qadīr could not understand.
Yet he agreed more happily.
I was a blessing for Åbdul Qadīr as compared to Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Åbdul Qādir fell on my feet.
I was startled.
“Please, fuck Al Nauhīd Al Salīm yourself. Don’t let Shankar Mahāpralayankar humiliate me. Humiliate me yourself as Shankar Mahāpralayankar directs you, but never let that Hindu criminal beast touch my would be wife ever. Please Durgesh, I’d myself help you to fuck my entire extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. I promise you.”
Åbdul Qādir started to weep.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Nauhīd Al Salīm both laughed.
That was what actually both of them wanted.
Åbdul Qādir was the actual target.
Al Lubnā Al Salīm herself didn’t want that Shankar Mahāpralayankar might even touch her younger sister, Al Nauhīd Al Salīm.
Yet, she wanted to degrade Åbdul Qādir immensely forever.
“Okay,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm laughed, “if you don’t want Shankar Mahāpralayankar touch your would be wife, it can be managed. Only Durgesh would fuck her. However, the terms and conditions would be somewhat more humiliating to you.”
Åbdul Qādir didn’t leave my feet.
“Whatsoever you damn please. Okay? Durgesh, she wouldn’t listen to me ever. But she would listen to you. Tell her I do agree with entire terms and conditions whatsoever she may propose. Only don’t turn Al Nauhīd Al Salīm into a whore. Only you fuck her, never Shankar Mahāpralayankar or anyone else.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
“I never knew, Åbdul Qādir, you loved Al Nauhīd Al Salīm to this extent.”
“You heartless, ever communal, ever anti Muslim Hindu beast, I know wherever there are any anti Muslim riots you always fight against us Musalmīn. You always fuck our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān womankind with your traditional Hindu brigade of communal anti Muslim beasts.”
“And you Musalmīn are innocent ever?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar sneered.
“I can’t control every Musalmān criminal, can I?”
“Åbdul Qādir,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar gritted his teeth, “Never think I don’t know you.”
“I hate you. You fucked me in my ass, I…”
“I fuck every wretched Musalmān in his damn Musalmān ass who ever acts against humanity.” Shankar Mahāpralayankar said furiously, “Åbdul Qādir, stop acting against humanity, I’d stop fucking you in your damn Musalmān ass.”
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Al Lubnā Al Salīm thundered at Shankar Mahāpralayankar, “Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Bhāījān, you can’t spare him so easily.”
“But Al Lubnā Al Salīm, my dear younger sister, he…”
Al Lubnā Al Salīm raised her right hand.
“That’s enough, Bhāījān, Åbdul Qādir is one of those Pseudo Musalmīn that always initiate Hindu Muslim rights on the temptations of dirty politicians. Al Nauhīd Al Salīm never loved him. Åbdul Qādir loved her, but Al Nauhīd Al Salīm never. Have I to tell you how inhumane Åbdul Qādir is?”
4. On History
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