Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān waited impatiently for the reply.
It never came.
Perhaps the person, who was playing the game, was afraid of her that she was after him/her to know his/her identity.
It was natural there couldn’t be any reply whatsoever.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān went to Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, the lawyer, instead of directly approaching me.
However, she knew very well, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was an integral part of HVSI Law Internationals now.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī called in the postal authorities.
The postal authorities went to work.
The letters continued to come, as if the sender took her action as a challenge and accepted it, instead of being afraid of.
It was impossible for the postal authorities, however, to get any proof.
The person mailing the letters evidently wore gloves.
There was never as much as the smudge of a fingerprint that could be developed in iodine vapor.
The envelopes were mailed in drop boxes in various parts of Ved Nagar.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s name and address had been set in type on a small but efficient printing machine, such as those frequently given children for Eīdul Fitr.
At the suggestion of Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s divorced wife, was consulted.
She was living with me in Ved Nagar.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus remembered having given Muħammad Jamīl, the child, a very expensive computerized mini printing press for Eīdul Fitr for the year before.
Muħammad Jamīl had taken it with him when he went to visit his Abbū, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.
It was still there.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had, it seemed, enjoyed the press even more than his son had.
This information gave Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī ground for jubilation, triumph.
“Now we’ll get the bastard,” she gloated.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān made an affidavit against her elder brother that he was torturing her mentally only because Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān loved me, a Hindu, her brother despised very much communally.
He used to call me Anant Muslimātchod Hindu scornfully.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī handled it from there.
The police served a search warrant on Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.
The said printing press was located without difficulty.
From its condition, however, it was evident it hadn’t been used in some time.
Moreover, the experts gave it as their opinion that the envelopes had most certainly not been addressed on that press.
It didn’t have the font used in printing those letters and envelopes.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was on bail.
He was excessively polite to the police officers.
“I am not crazy enough to defame my own younger sister and thus consequently myself too. Can’t everyone see it’s a work of someone, who wants to defame and disgrace my Musalmān houseladies and me?”
His ex-wife, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, smiled cunningly.
“He is a pervert, as the so many Pseudo Musalmīn are ever. Allah never forgives the Pseudo Musalmīn for their ever disguised blasphemy. The bastards ever misuse the immensely sacred name of Islam for their ever perverted Pseudo Isālm. Allah punishes them by making them bisexual, gay and cuckold.”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān commented ironically.
“Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus’s Allah is perhaps Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. It’s her theory that any Musalmān that’s not true in his conviction to Islam is Pseudo Musalmān and Allah punishes such Pseudo Musalmīn by making them bisexual, transgender, gay and cuckold.”
“You don’t think it’s true?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus smiled sympathetically.
“Most of the Musalmīn don’t think it’s true.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said gravely.
“You mean most of the Pseudo Musalmīn don’t think it’s true?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus laughed patronizingly.
“I don’t think they are Pseudo Musalmīn.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said curtly, “It’s what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits say.”
“I sympathize with you Pseudo Musalmīn, because they are you that are being punished by Allah in this way, by making them bisexual, gay and cuckold, I mean. Allah Ħāfiz, anyway.” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus said sweetly.
“Allah Ħāfiz,” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said curtly and slammed the receiver.*
No one knew how the name of Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was mentioned in connection with it.
Neither any one knew who mentioned it.
However, when the police asked,
“Do you suspect your psychiatrist ex-fiancee, Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ might be behind it to defame and disgrace your Musalmān houseladies and you?”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said sophisticatedly,
“I don’t think so. The women are softies. Except Musalmīn alone most of the mankind even is softie, or it wants to display itself to be so ostensibly. She could not understand why it’s necessary for me to discipline my son, Muħammad Jamīl, the seven years old child. I’m surprised to the question. I don’t think Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ could fall to such an indignity. We had been engaged. I was quite fond of her.”
“Why the engagement had broken?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked gravely, sympathetically, ostensibly at least.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān wasn’t a damn fool enough to think ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was really sympathetic to him.
He knew she was one of the greatest fans of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, her lady bandits and Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Yet, she never approved of Triple Society.
Her concept of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah wasn’t as violent as that of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits, after all.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits scorned Pseudo Musalmān actually, while ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was sophisticated somewhat, ostensibly at least, even if not actually.
“The engagement had been broken over a rather minor matter.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān smiled as if he was the victim of her injustice. However, he didn’t want to talk of it, “Dr. Ms. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was working altogether too hard. Naturally, she had been under great nervous tension. She had not been like herself for some weeks before the engagement was broken. If there is still anything I can do, ma’am ACP, I want it understood definitely that I’m willing to help at any time whatsoever.”
“I see,” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl could not help herself from being sarcastic, “How nice of you.”
“Nothing at all, ma’am. I would be only too glad to render any assistance whatsoever in tracking down the scoundrel(s) who are annoying my younger sister, psychiatrist Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān. The police are welcome to drop in at any time. As far as I’m concerned, the police never need any search warrant even. Despite all the adverse deliberate publicity against us so called Pseudo Musalmīn, by Her Excellency Kħātūn-e-Jannat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan razī Allāhu tålā ånahā and her lady bandits, we Musalmīn are too law abiding citizens. My door would always be open to the authorities. Would you please convey my sincere sympathy to my younger psychiatrist sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān? I have tried to call her myself a dozen times, but she had hung up as soon as she recognized my voice.”
It wasn’t until Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus called her that Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān smiled cunningly.
“Was it the printing press?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus asked Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān.
“No,” Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān said, “The press was there all right but it hadn’t been used for some time.”
“That’s just like the bastard,” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus said, “I know exactly how his ever communal dirty shrewd Pseudo Musalmān mind works. He saw Muħammad Jamīl’s press. He then went out and got one similar to it, but with different fonts. Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān probably printed about two hundred envelopes in advance, then he took the press out on his yacht and dropped it overboard. He knew you’d suspect him; that you’d find out about Muħammad Jamīl’s press and get a search warrant―that’s his way of showing you how diabolically clever he is despite the adverse reputation of general Pseudo Musalmīn.”
She looked at Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ,
“I’m surprised you went with him as long as you did without recognizing the sort of man he is beneath his mask.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ resented Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus’s tone,
“At least I found out in time to avoid marrying him.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus laughed.
“You were smarter than I was.” She admitted, “I was communal somewhat perhaps. I deliberately scorned marrying any non-Muslim those days. Allah punished me for it. Now, I believe Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors are correct. Never marry any Muslim bastard. So many other Hindus are there, even if particularly Durgesh is not available to some unlucky Muslimah.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ too laughed bitterly.
“Nevertheless, you’ll remember I dropped you a note telling you not to be fooled.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ said somewhat ruefully, repentantly.
“I thought it was the result of your jealousy that I succeeded where you failed. Sorry.”
“Allah, Heavens, I’m happily in Live In Relationship with Durgesh now. I was trying to save you from what I’d gone through with him. If I could only get the sole custody of Muħammad Jamīl, my son, I wouldn’t want anything more.”*
Åāliyah Fārūq had disabused me of that notion.
“You wouldn’t be causing a problem,” she’d said, “you’d be solving one. I love Åbdul Waħīd to pieces, but he’s just not getting it done in the bedroom. We need someone to help out. Besides, I’ve always been curious about Hindu men.”
“I’m not about to start messing with cheating Musalmān wives, Åāliyah Fārūq,” I had explained.
Åāliyah Fārūq had laughed.
“Cheating? Who said anything about cheating? Åbdul Waħīd brought it up in the first place, and he sure as hell plans on watching you fuck me.”
“I see. So you’re swingers?” I asked.
“No, honey, we’re not swingers. We want to try out cuckolding,” Åāliyah Fārūq replied.
She’d gone on to explain that Åbdul Waħīd didn’t want to fuck someone else’s wife, he wanted a guy to fuck Åāliyah Fārūq while he watched.
So later than night, I had fucked the lovely young Musalmān blonde to the point of exhaustion while Åbdul Waħīd had watched and jerked off.
When I left, Åbdul Waħīd had thanked me profusely and made arrangements for another encounter over the next weekend.
I had quickly found that the notion of fucking an attractive, young, married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān woman appealed to his libido.
It wasn’t just fucking hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot I liked, it was fucking hot white married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
In front of the perverted/cuckold Musalmān husband.
It was like Viagra.
The role of handsome hung Hindu bull fit me like a glove, and I soon discovered that fulfilling Åāliyah Fārūq and Åbdul Waħīd’s expectations of deep, dark taboo jungle love was as entertaining to me as it was arousing to Åbdul Waħīd.
The actual problem was that the Pseudo Musalmīn themselves loved to be cuckolded to their ever dominating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives and me/their Hindu lover/Live In Relationship partner.
They needed Stavans/Meditation with Constant Positive Thinking actually to get their confidence and manhood back.
It wasn’t possible due to several communal/religious/social reasons.
The main reason, none wanted to be true to accept, was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She wanted them Cuckold to compel them to establish Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
“She hates Pseudo Musalmīn even more than even Mughal-e-Åāzam, Shahanshah Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar did. He forced Pseudo Musalmīn to marry their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān daughters/sisters to marry Hindus. Yet, even he didn’t cuckold them. Whereas Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is running Seven Movements including Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement.” I said curtly.
“Well,” Åbdul Waħīd smiled feigning gravity, “we don’t think there’s anything wrong in it.”
I gazed at him contemptuously.
There wasn’t any use of arguing with Åbdul Waħīd.
He had already fallen beneath it.
Åāliyah Fārūq was lying on her back with her legs spread and My Hindu cum load was leaking from her gaping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot when Åbdul Waħīd had first asked me if I thought I could handle another white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife.
“We have some close friends, Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq, who live in the building,” Åbdul Waħīd said. “Åāliyah Fārūq’s been telling Lubnā Salīm about what an amazing Hindu lover you are, and Lubnā Salīm told Åāliyah Fārūq she was interested.”
“I see,” I smiled meaningfully.
“Lubnā Salīm’s really cute. She’s a tiny little redhead. You’d love fucking her,” Åāliyah Fārūq chimed in, playing with my Uncut Hindu Lund, entirely unashamed of herself. “Why don’t we all have a dinner and we can explain how things work. I love being your hot white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife, but I’m feeling guilty keeping that magnificent Uncut Hindu Lund all to myself.”
“Besides,” Åbdul Waħīd joined in, “Åāliyah Fārūq and I really get turned on by the idea of turning Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq out as an Uncut Hindu Lund cuckold couple. It feels like we’re corrupting them.”
I laughed and agreed to the meeting.
However, I suspected Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was behind it somewhere, somehow.
Åāliyah Fārūq and Åbdul Waħīd were actually members of her Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was really establishing seriously her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
She wasn’t kidding anyone in the matter at all.
Åāliyah Fārūq too hadn’t been kidding when she had described Lubnā Salīm as “tiny.”
I towered over the 4 foot 11 inch Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān redhead, who giggled when I took her small hand in my hand to shake it.
“If everything else about you is this big, I’m in trouble,” the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān redhead chirped.
I liked her immediately.
She’d worn her red hair in a pixy cut.
Coupled with her pouty red lips, alabaster skin and slightly upturned nose, the overall effect made her look like a woodland sprite.
Her easy laughter and constant smile did nothing to dispel the image.
Over drinks, I learned that Lubnā Salīm had been a gymnast and ballet dancer but had switched to elementary education when she’d torn her ACL as a college freshman.
“Besides,” she said with a laugh, “there isn’t a ballet company in the country that wants a sub-five feet redhead in the corps de ballet. All for the best anyway. I love teaching kids.”
Her husband Muħammad Ashfāq was a graphics designer and artist, who’d converted one of the bedrooms in their unit into a painting studio.
He was slender and dark haired, which curled over his collar, looking every bit the moody, struggling artist.
When I had suggested that it must be difficult to make a living as a painter, Lubnā Salīm had laughed.
“Don’t let the ‘suffering artist’ look fool you. Muħammad Ashfāq does quite nicely with graphics design and his parents left him very well off,” she said. “We live comfortably on Muħammad Ashfāq’s graphics income and my salary as a teacher. The painting’s his avocation.”
The dinner went extremely well.
Åāliyah Fārūq had seated Lubnā Salīm and me next to each other, with Muħammad Ashfāq across the table.
Wine flowed freely and Muħammad Ashfāq and I spent most of the dinner in an intense discussion about stock market forecasting, investment strategies, hedge funds, and metals futures.
Lubnā Salīm spent most of the dinner running her left hand first up and down my right thigh and then up and down my Hindu crotch.
At the end of the evening, I stood.
“Thanks for a wonderful dinner, Åāliyah Fārūq,” I said, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
I shook Åbdul Waħīd’s hand and nodded to Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq. “Nice to meet you both.”
As soon as I was out the door, Lubnā Salīm hurried to join me, slipping her arm through mine.
“Why don’t you walk me home,” she suggested, seductively, meaningfully.
I smiled and looked at her husband, Muħammad Ashfāq.
Muħammad Ashfāq laughed.
“You don’t need my permission, Durgesh. She is entirely capable to take her own decisions. Sorry to say it, but actually you Hindus are more possessive of your wives than we Musalmīn are. Islam is liberal enough to permit divorce if the spouses have too many differences to the extent they can’t live with each other any more.”
“Islam concentrates on liberty more, Hinduism concentrates on family more. If you want a strong family, you have to sacrifice your liberty for it. If you want a greater liberty, you have to sacrifice your family for it. It depends on what you need more, your family or your liberty.”
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“Hey, don’t preach your Hinduism to my ardent Musalmān husband, you Hindu scoundrel. Let him remain Musalmān, please!”
Muħammad Ashfāq laughed.
“I love my Īmān even more than my life, Lubnā Salīm. Don’t worry. The entire history of us Musalmān mankind stands to evidence that we Musalmīn always sacrificed everything, including our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives, and our families too, to save our Īmān. It’s better to lose our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife and family even than to lose our Īmān itself. We Musalmīn always let Hindus fuck our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives even, instead of letting Hindus fuck our Īmān itself.”
Lubnā Salīm looked at her proud arrogant Musalmān husband, Muħammad Ashfāq, proudly.
“I’m proud of you, Muħammad Ashfāq.”
“Thank you, Lubnā Salīm, my dear beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife.”
I could not believe what I was listening to.
But that’s what I was listening to from entire Musalmīn ever since my childhood.
They had their own kind of morals throughout their own history and they loved their morals more than their own life even.
I had to admit Hindus were not so dedicated to their morals.
The Hindus were better in sex, but the Musalmīn were better in morals.
I once more realized it.
Surprisingly, I respected Musalmīn more for it, than I respected Hindus even.
Saiyadah Fatimah PhD, my ardent Musalmān wife and my infinite Musalmān women even, never agreed with me.
Well, they too had their own morals.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ultimately, Kħālidah Jibrān smiled at me,
“For what?” I feigned surprise.
Hell, it is never good to humiliate a lady whose subconscious is as deepest in love with me as Kħālidah Jibrān was.
Without immense deepest love for me in her heart, even if she was never aware of it, Kħālidah Jibrān could have never fucked me whole night, so wildly, passionately, affectionately and savagely, as she did, after all.
Kħālidah Jibrān looked at me gravely,
“You know for what.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I know you are kind enough not to humiliate me more than I have already humiliated myself whole night. Please, forgive me. I am not a slut, even though I behaved like one, with you.”
“Well, it was what you wanted to do with me, as soon as you saw me first time.”
Kħālidah Jibrān was suddenly horrified,
“Allah, nooooo! Never. I never thought of you in this way.”
“Oh, come on, young lady. You are a D. Lit. Don’t talk nonsense. You understand inherent psychology as much, as I myself do. Why do you hate your husband?”
“Allah, noooooooooooo! I never hated Nādir Shāh Åbdālī.” She was more horrified now.
“You have always hated him,” I said gravely, “You still hate him, moreover.”
Kħālidah Jibrān was looking at me incredulously.
“Oh, come on, Papaji. It was only a female animal, not me. I shouldn’t have taken that wine.”
“Are you sure, it was only a female animal in you, and wine?”
“Oh sure, you don’t think so?”
“This bedroom has five video cameras and transmitters so that Nādir Shāh Åbdālī could watch us from where he was.”
Kħālidah Jibrān laughed ironically.
“So you know that too?”
“What do you think I am? A damn fool? Nādir Shāh Åbdālī deliberately suggested you to let me sleep here. He was watching us whole night, alive.”
“You know it all, and still ask me why I hate the bastard?” Kħālidah Jibrān laughed bitterly.
“I see. So, you were not intoxicated? It wasn’t any accident? It wasn’t an effect of wine? You did it deliberately?” I asked her savagely.
“I need you to fight with my ever criminal husband. He is an agent of India.”
“That’s right. He sends the military and political secrets of Pakistan to India.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“Because you are an Indian, and you think every politician of India is stark white.” She said bitterly.*
I watched her patiently.
“Not exactly,” I said, “We may have less of the dirty politicians in India than you Pakistanis have here in Pakistan, but no country, including India, can ever claim we haven’t any criminal politicians at all.”
“Thank you. Most of you Indians never admit it.”
“Well, I try to be truthful.”
“And, that’s the reason this ever ardent patriot of Pakistan, loves you.” She smiled.
“I can’t believe a Pakistani ardent patriot that is herself an agent of Pakistan, against India.”
“Not against India, against the dirty Indian politicians who act against Pakistan. We are a separate autonomous country now. Why the hell even after more than sixty years of our partition they still don’t acknowledge it?”*
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī had had an evening, a night, and part of a morning to get over what he saw whole night.
Allah, Kħālidah Jibrān was immensely crazy to fuck Durgesh.
Well, almost his every Musalmān houselady was.
Durgesh had an infinite lust for extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies and other working Musalmān Beauties as well.
He could never believe his ardent patriot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Musalmān wife could even ever fuck Durgesh.
But she did.
He met Durgesh in Ved Nagar.
He had to.
Kħālidah Jibrān had suspected his unpatriotic activities to Pakistan.
She was an ardent Pakistani.
She even refused to agree with Durgesh that Partition of India was a blunder in 1947.
At least, the changing quality of light within corridors, squares and parks of the Administrative Residential Sector of Ved Nagar, made it seem that an evening, a night, and a part of the morning had passed.
He left his diamagnetic EV scooter in a scooter cubby outside the City limits.
It had more than enough EV charge now.
After all Kħālidah Jibrān had fucked Durgesh whole night.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī still didn’t believe that diamagnetic EV scooters were charged when they were in the EV force field of some Musalmān Beauty and Durgesh fucking nonstop for a considerable time.
They said the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt served as a Rheostat when Durgesh Shaktimān Uncut Hindu Penis enters and moves into it, acting as an electrified magnetic bar.
With every movement of Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis into an ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt, the lines of force of Durgesh and his Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān sex partner changed.
It produced the EV charge that recharged the diamagnetic EV scooters.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī never believed this nonsense.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was crazy if she really thought the Musalmīn would believe this garbage.
It was only they wanted to show, ostensible, not truth.
The actual science behind it was only known to Durgesh and HVSI Group of Companies.
They were not damn fools enough to tell it to everyone.*
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī wasn’t afraid of anyone.
His political opponents had succeeded in removing him from Pakistan.
He thought of Ved Nagar with its diamagnetic EV ground cars, hover cars and anti-grav gyros.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī locked the cubby and fingerprint-sealed it.
He moved under the first of the tall bridge like structures that supported the upper City.
The utmost richest City of the entire Multiverse, they called Ved Nagar.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī never believed what the Bachhalyās and the Vedic Monotheist Hindus ever said.
The ever dirty, ever sexiest liars.
The Bachhalyās and the Vedic Monotheist Hindus were actually the persons behind the screen that always defeated every military campaign and/or intellectual movements that win almost every country wherever they went, except India.
The Hindus were too shrewdest and smart ever to talk about their real power behind the screen, the Bachhalyās and the Vedic Monotheist Hindus.
They always talked about Brāhmañ, Xatriý, Vaishý and Shūdr, never about their real power behind the screen, the Bachhalyās and the Vedic Monotheist Hindus.
Even most of the traditional Hindus were not aware of this ever closely guarded political secret of Hindus.
The Upper City, in Ved Nagar, was exactly the name implied.
It was built, the entire City, Ved Nagar, Trantor, was built in countless stories, as if it was not a City at all, it was a building, a Mansion, only.
They claimed the stories in which Ved Nagar was built were actually infinite, in infinite realities.
The bloody liars.
Perhaps they never told truth.
Everything they had was infinite.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī smiled sarcastically.
Durgesh had infinite bodies, hahaha.
Durgesh had infinite Musalmān wives, everyone of them being beautiful beyond imagination, what a sick fantasy!
Durgesh had infinite Brāhmañ wives too.
Thanks Allah, thanks God, Durgesh didn’t have infinite Christian wives, infinite Jew wives, infinite atheist wives.
Everyone of them was only countless.
But Durgesh’s ever nonstop sexual intercourse with everyone of them, was infinite, no exception.
After all, they were not enjoying nonstop sex actually.
They were running the Multiverse, keeping it alive.
Of all the fantasies!
Every story, every layer, every tier, of Ved Nagar was divided rigidly by a horizontal layer of fifty square miles of Hirañý metal, utmost hardest metal ever found by humankind, resting upon some countless, not infinite again, thank God, countless steel girdered pillars.
Most of the Ved Nagar was not only inaccessible to everyone, it was even invisible to them.
Allah knows better even if it existed there or not.
Hindus were utmost expert in spreading rumors benevolent to them.
Not all of them, but the Bachhalyās of them, headed them, in all of these ever dirtiest political games.
That was why Hindus, or India, could never be defeated to the extent to destroy Hindu culture altogether, as the other cultures were destroyed completely by Muslim invaders and imperialists.
The Bachhalyās and the Vedic Monotheist Hindus called it ‘Jan Pravād Dharmyuddh’, whatsoever the hell it meant.
Above, in the sun, were the Brahmarshis.*
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī knew his way.
He walked confidently.
It was a good move to see Durgesh himself.
Kħālidah Jibrān might have more power than him in Pakistan, but Durgesh had his power everywhere.
It maybe, of course, that Pakistani patrollers can get him, but as long as Durgesh himself is with Nādir Shāh Åbdālī, they couldn’t harm him even a bit.
Yet, he avoided the passersby, as a precaution.
They surveyed his Pakistani national dress with interest.
The sun was out now.
The Multiverse had infinite creations with infinite realities.
The sun was pouring through the spaced openings in the Hirañý metal above to form strips of light that made the intervening space all the darker.
He plunged through the bright strips, in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic fashion.
The Musalmān Beauties and the beautiful Musalmān houseladies were on their knees and elbows on the strips.
Durgesh was fucking almost all of them, from their extremely glorious behind.
They absorbed the warmth and moved as the strip moved.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī knew now he was going up.
He was standing before a structure that filled the space between four square placed pillars.
It was an elevator that lifted to the upper level.
There were the same elevators everywhere between two levels.
Ved Nagar really was a dream City.
At first, Pakistan tried her best to oppose the development of Ved Nagar.
But it was the internal matter of India.
As soon as the UPA-2 government resigned and NDA government came in administration after Midterm 2012, Pakistan immediately realized the supremacy of Ved Nagar.
Extremely beautiful Pakistani Musalmān houseladies invariably started to purchase real estates in Ved Nagar under this or that pretext.
Kħālidah Jibrān herself had such properties here.
Basic chemicals and raw food staples were shipped into Lower levels of the City, but finished plastic ware and fine meals were matter for Upper City, exclusively occupied by Multiversal administrative staff of Ved Nagar.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī signaled the elevator.*
He was cautious enough of Pakistani Patrollers.
They still are here in Ved Nagar too.
Ved Nagar had its an integral part in Pakistan too, of course, with the express permission of Pakistan.
Not exactly, it was actually a request from Pakistan herself.
Well, it was true however.
Truth is stranger than fiction, after all.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī had been in Ved Nagar for many years.
Ved Nagar was a miraculous City.
Countless non Hindus still hated Ved Nagar.
They thought, and it was deliberately taught to and told them that the Hindus were still Kāfirs.
No Musalmān should believe any Hindu ever.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī knew there were some anti Hindus still now, as there were some anti Musalmīn too.
So many attempts were there to blast Ved Nagar by terrorist Pseudo Musalmīn suicide bombers, but the Ved Nagar administration was always proved to be more efficient.
It always arrested every suicide bomber before they could do anything.
No, they were not punished by death sentence.
They were sent to time travel instead to watch the golden period of Islam when Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålahi wa sallam and Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn razī Allāhu tålā ånahunn themselves were there in person.
Ved Nagar administration argued let them watch themselves what the true Islam is.
The Pseudo Islam of post Yazīd Malåūn era could be more effectively destroyed from their brain in this way.
It may cure their terroristic tendencies so inherent in them.
Trantor/Ved Nagar was the center and breeding place of the ever shrewdest ever smartest Hindus, the Bachhalyās and the Vedic Monotheist Hindus.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī learned to bear in silence.
He ought not forget what he had learnt now.
Of all the times, not now while Pakistani patrollers were after him.
The foolish operators of those patrollers were too prejudiced to understand what was in the favor of Pakistan actually, and what not.
Yes, the patrollers couldn’t harm any humankind.
They were mere humanoid robots.
But there were some stupid Pakistanis too that always harmed Pakistan, thinking they were benefiting her.
That was the real problem.
The humanoid lady robot operator of the elevator looked disgusted, but it was for a moment only.
It smiled at once.
“Only you, sir?”
“Only me,” Nādir Shāh Åbdālī too smiled in return.
He stepped in.
“Your ID card, sir.” The beautiful humanoid lady robot operator again cooed.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī smiled and produced the standard document folder every person authorized to go to the Upper level had to present.
No possibility of presentation of any forged document.
A human operator could be cheated, but not a humanoid robot.
It couldn’t be bribed too.
Ved Nagar administration was ever efficient.
The utmost efficient administration the entire human history had ever produced.
It was almost faultless.*
Kħālidah Jibrān greeted Al Safiyah Al Ghaus with her usual surface cordiality.
Their first meeting had been a long time ago.
Nearly a Standard Year had passed.
Kħālidah Jibrān had tried to pay every possible attention to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s story, but her adamant opposition to Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and his family persons was something even Kħālidah Jibrān could not digest.
She could not understand why Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was as friendly to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus as she was friendly to Kħālidah Jibrān herself.
Couldn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan understand Durgesh is an ever incurable humanist?
Couldn’t she understand Durgesh is an ever incurable Multiversalist as well?
Even entire womankind can’t make Durgesh to oppose any victim/victims ever.
Kħālidah Jibrān didn’t know what Prakāsh, Ved Prakāsh and Udaý would do in the similar circumstances, but she definitely knew what Durgesh would.
Kħālidah Jibrān could not believe Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan didn’t.
Yes, Kħālidah Jibrān was an ardent Pakistani.
What’s wrong in loving one’s own country?
Can’t a person be a Multiversalist humanist as well as an ardent patriot to her own country?
Doesn’t Ammī Ħuzūr, Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Wahāb, love India and Saåūdī Årab both equally?
Don’t Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both love India and Saåūdī Årab equally too?
Doesn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan love India and Saåūdī Årab equally as well?
And isn’t it a fact that Ammī Ħuzūr, Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Wahāb, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, Kħadījah Muħammad and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, all the four love Saåūdī Årab more still now?
Isn’t it a fact Durgesh loves India more, even though he is an ever incurable Multiversalist humanist?
Then why the hell Kħālidah Jibrān could not love Pakistan more, even though she is a Multiversalist humanist too?
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at Kħālidah Jibrān patiently,
“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl informed me that you were also a daughter in law to Durgesh before you gathered your courage, planned and made love to him, without caring for his pre consent even. I congratulate you.”
“Thank you.” Kħālidah Jibrān smiled, “ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was interested in me, to the extent, I never knew.”
“She was too a daughter in law to Durgesh once,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly, “Durgesh raped her on her own husband’s request.”
Kħālidah Jibrān was grave now.
“She blackmailed her husband to do so?”
“I don’t know the details, sorry.”
“How do you know Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim are still in Ved Nagar?” Kħālidah Jibrān suddenly asked.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled.
They both were nude.
As usual, I was fucking both of them in my two separate bodies.
Despite her nonstop sexual intercourse practice with me now, Kħālidah Jibrān didn’t believe I actually had my infinite bodies.
She tried her best to crash the mystery, but she was still unable to do so.
The most probable explanation to her was I was using my identical humanoid robots.
Kħālidah Jibrān was not satisfied entirely with this explanation even, but it was the best she could do at present.*
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī paused on the curved ramp that led to the main entrance.
He could not help except to praise the Vedic Monotheist Hindus and the Bachhalyās that they had ultimately succeeded in hyperspace netting the entire Multiverse.
Of course, they loved to educate everyone despite the countless fatwas of countless anti education Mullahs and Maulavīs that the library the ‘Kāfirs’ had made available thus, was mostly anti Islam.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī was honest enough to admit that the anti-education Mullahs and Maulavīs, even if they were countless, were ever dirty liars.
The most books in the library were not even had any concern whatsoever with Islam.
Moreover, to view and read something critical to any religion or ideology, it was necessary to get prior permission of the Human librarian.
Mostly there were humanoid robot librarians, lady robots mostly.
The color scheme of the ramp gave the illusion of steps, giving the library the proper air of archaism that traditionally accompanied structures.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī was all praise for the Vedic Monotheist Hindus and the Bachhalyās, despite the entire fatwas of anti-education Mullahs and Maulavīs, that Vedic Monotheist Hindus and the Bachhalyās were at least quite sophisticated men.
He was not alone.
Countless others unbiased Musalmīn that were pro education also praised the Vedic Monotheist Hindus and the Bachhalyās for it.
Education, even the utmost highest, was never made so easily available in any era.
The main hall was large, warm softly, and full of the readers that could not manage to get this luxury in their own homes.
The lady robot librarian behind her desk, looked up and rose.
“Sir,” she cooed, “if you don’t appreciate a lady robot attending you, a male humanoid robot can be arranged to attend you.”
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī smiled,
“Sorry for my fellow Musalmīn, they are finicky even in the libraries. I am normal. It’s normal for me to have a lady robot attendant.”
“Thank you, sir. Actually your name…”
“I know, I know. Most of my fellow Musalmīn insist on a male robot attendant. But actually they are not the one to be blamed even then. We Musalmīn have a large number of anti-education Mullahs and Maulavīs. They have made the life of average Musalmīn hell by announcing very irresponsible fatwas every now and then. They have made Islam a house of glass that can be broken by anything whatsoever.”
Lady robot smiled cordially.
She seated herself and plucked a metal silver from a slot.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī took it.
He placed his right thumb firmly upon it.
The lady robot librarian took it back and put it in another slot.
A green light appeared and shone constantly.
“Room 786, sir.” She cooed.
Nādir Shāh Åbdālī smiled,
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
“What’s your proposition, Muħammad bin Qāsim?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was terse,
“I haven’t any.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was still watching his wife’s gorgeous Musalmān ass that had swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick to the hilt.
“Sitting tight sometimes doesn’t pay even a dime.” I smiled at Muħammad bin Qāsim still enjoying my Uncut Hindu Prick buried entirely into Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s perfect Musalmān ass.
“Let me see it myself.” Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed cunningly.
“You have a hundred thousand dollars at stake, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan turned to Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, “HVSI Group of Companies has authorized Durgesh and me to sign a compromise with Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company on its behalf. Since Durgesh is a blind supporter of us Musalmān Beauties there are some shareholders in HVSI Group of Companies who wanted the agreement to be signed by me too.”
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah grimaced.
“Bosh and nonsense. If Durgesh were really supporting us Musalmān Beauties blindly, he would never have opposed your Seven Movements, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I can’t believe there are such fools among the stockholders of HVSI Group of Companies who credited you more than Durgesh even.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed sophisticatedly.
“Who the hell is asking you to believe me, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah? Never believe me, if you don’t want to. Nevertheless it doesn’t change the legal status of the agreement that it must be signed by both of us. I’m representing Musalmān Beauties stockholders of HVSI Group of Companies.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus started back and forth motion now enjoying the anal sex she needed very much.
Right from the beginning, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew very well she wasn’t a normal woman.
But are the most of the other women normal?
They are hypocrites actually.
Both the men and women are hypocrites actually.
At least most of them certainly are.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is not a hypocrite at all.
That’s why they criticize her so much.
They criticized Al Safiyah Al Ghaus for her love for anal sex.
But the fact was it was only her fantasy.
She tried to do it with her first husband.
He called it a sin and refused her to oblige.
She had laughed.
“You can’t do even what is not a sin for you, Iqbāl. Can you?”
Muħammad Iqbāl was stunned.
He couldn’t believe his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife was telling him sophisticatedly that he was not competent in sex.
What a shameless woman!
“Muħammad Iqbāl, your sisters suck Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis. Isn’t that a sin? They compel Durgesh for anal sex with them. Isn’t that a sin too.”
Muħammad Iqbāl laughed ironically.
“I never knew Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, my shameless sisters are your ideals. You always criticized them. It was natural consequently, for me, to think you don’t have such a sinful desire.”
“I say you are not competent even in what you think moral sex.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said patiently.
She never knew it could lead Muħammad Iqbāl to suicide.
Hell, the idiot could have divorced her instead.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was her second husband.
But he was too a hypocrite.
Most of the persons, men and women both, are hypocrites.
They praise other hypocrites.
They never praise an honest and sincere person.
Durgesh is the third man in her life.
But he is perfect.
He invaded her anal virginity without any infinitesimal shade of guilt.
What a man.
What a perfect man.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Sometimes, half a loaf is better than no bread, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah. Sometimes a poor compromise is better than a good lawsuit. Now then, Muħammad bin Qāsim, what’s your proposition?”
Al Taufīq Al Fatimah looked at her husband.
Was Durgesh right?
Is Muħammad bin Qāsim really trying to frame his own murder on her?
Had he really married Al Taufīq Al Fatimah on impulse?
Now, his ambition to have her as his wife is fulfilled, he is repenting his ‘wrong’(?) decision taken on an impulse?
Is he really trying to kill two birds with a stone?
“Give me ten percent of what Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is getting.”
“Ten thousand dollars?” Muħammad Ůsmān shouted, “Are you crazy?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“It’s a hundred thousand dollars deal. HVSI Group of Companies is paying one hundred thousand dollars to Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah for that island. Why can’t I get ten percent of it for signing a quitclaim deed?”
“That’s too much.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly.
Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled bitterly.
“To me, it is ridiculously small. I think there is oil on the island.”
“What do you say?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. “He isn’t the managing director of Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company any more, you are.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at his wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim immediately held her head high and said,
“Prañav , I think Muħammad bin Qāsim is right. We deserve at least ten percent of what Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is getting from HVSI Group of Companies. Our quitclaim deed is necessary for HVSI Group of Companies to get proper title on the island.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“I agree with my wife.”
“Nonsense,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “I advise Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī to pay four thousand dollars for your quitclaim deed. Take it or leave it. Take it and then step out of the picture.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim stiffly shook his head.
“Okay,” I smiled disarmingly, “I will instruct the escrow holder to accept a certificate of title, subject to the provisions of an outstanding oil lease. I don’t think Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company has any leg to stand on. I think I can get an injunction prohibiting you setting foot on the island.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled cunningly.
“Jījū, you may get the injunction but it won’t become final until after it has gone through the Supreme Court.”
I smiled sweetly.
“No problem, Sālé Miyān. I think HVSI Group of Companies has enough money for that. More than you can even dream of. You would have to sell so many of your companies to meet the legal expenses for it. We have enough idle money to meet such unprecedented legal expenses. I don’t care how long the litigation takes. Just so I keep you off the island.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was still smiling cunningly.
“Suppose I win it?”
“You let your legal department prepare an opinion on that. If their opinion collides with your opinion, go ahead and take any legal steps you may see fit. I’m very much inclined to go ahead and complete the deal.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Penis in her extremely gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass very much.
How lucky she was.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is really her best friend.
As soon as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan knew about the sexual fantasies of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had smiled.
“How communal are you, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus?”
“What do you mean?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus couldn’t follow Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“Muħammad Iqbāl was your first husband. Wasn’t he?”
“Yes, sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at her quite perplexed.
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs is your second husband.”
“You have already married twice.”
“Nothing. The point I am getting at is you married both the times Musalmīn.”
“So what? Isn’t it natural? I am also a Musalmān. Therefore…”
“Not natural.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cut her short, “Most of the extraordinary Musalmān Beauties, as beautiful as you are, would have preferred a Hindu husband instead of a Musalmān husband again, once she had the bitter experiences from a Musalmān husband.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was brilliant enough to understand what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was suggesting.
“Is it possible?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus sighed incredulously.
“To make anything possible the first necessity is to self-hypnotize that it is possible.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled ingeniously.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan in awe.
“To self-hypnotize.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at her splendidly.
“And if it is impossible?”
“Nothing is impossible in the world, you fool. What do you think, was it possible for me to get a Hindu husband who had self-hypnotized himself that he was my stepfather?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was dumb founded.*
She pushed her gorgeous buttocks back in my nude Hindu lap and swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Penis once more into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
“My brother in law, my dévar, has paid Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband, to protect himself and his family from me and my supporters. Can’t you understand Durgesh has staged a show to pull the wool over our eyes as well as on the eyes of the law?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her incredulously.
“You mean Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is alive?”
“Durgesh can’t afford to let him murdered on his own ship.”
“And the shot fired from the revolver?”
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, if you are not yourself playing a part in the play, why the hell can’t you understand? There’s only one person who could have fired it.”
“Who?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at his extremely beautiful wife skeptically.
“Your younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
“You mean he shot himself?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked furiously.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed enjoying the nonstop back and forth movements of my extremely rigid Uncut Hindu Penis in her brilliant smart Musalmān ass.
“Not himself. He just fired one shot in order to establish his fake yet still legal death. Our legal wizard, Durgesh, planned his legal escape in this way from us. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had already fired one shot out of the gun that he left on the dresser for the wife to bring when Al Muħammad Al Qāsim telephoned her. Now then, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my younger brother in law, had to work his timing just right. He had to wait until he saw Al Zohrah Al Bittol coming along the deck. As soon as he saw Al Zohrah Al Bittol there, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my younger brother in law, thoroughly coached by Durgesh, thoroughly rehearsed even, because it is Durgesh’s own ship, had to ‘struggle’ and ‘sway’ in a peculiar manner and then topple overboard. Am I right, Durgesh darling?”*
I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis out of her Musalmān ass until only its head was inside then penetrated it once more so forcefully that Al Safiyah Al Ghaus couldn’t help except to jump.
But I had already anticipated her reaction.
I jumped with her too, penetrating her entirely.
“Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I’m dead.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus screamed in extreme anal ecstasy, “The hell you don’t love anal sex. You are wonderfully and absolutely amazingly expert in anal sex too. Allah, you are killing me. I can’t bear it there any more. You Hindu scoundrel.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus suddenly pulled away her ass, positioned the tip of my Uncut Hindu Penis between her quivering throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips and thrust.
My Uncut Hindu Penis vanished into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt entirely now.
“Fuck me in my Pussy now, okay, you Hindu rascal? What the hell were you after? Rip open wide my ass itself? Naughty naughty.”
I laughed and continued fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus now in her Musalmān Cunt.
Yet, she continued to tell her theory about what I had done.
“Then Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to fire a shot and be in such a position that just as Al Zohrah Al Bittol leaned over the bow of the ship, Al Zohrah Al Bittol would look down and see Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim even call Al Zohrah Al Bittol by her name so that there could be a positive identification. Remember our legal wizard, Durgesh, never leaves any legal loophole. When he wanted to support and protect Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and his family from me and my supporters Durgesh did it a perfect job. No loopholes anywhere whatsoever.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Vikram Bachhalyā, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Pratāp Bachhalyā everyone looked at me as if I were a ghost.
Only Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Even Al Zohrah Al Bittol and ACP Suraiyā Jamāl were looking at me dumbstruck in awe.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muħammad bin Qāsim remembered that he looked at me expectantly.
We were still on the Yacht then.
I was watching the sealed envelope Muħammad bin Qāsim had given to me.
“Taufīq Fātimah knows ACP Suraiyā Jamāl personally and she has mentioned to me two or three times, Jījū, that ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is a dangerous antagonist.”
“Taufīq Fātimah is right.” I said gravely.
Muħammad bin Qāsim watched me peculiarly.
“Jījū, am I to assume that perhaps there was some particular significance that attached to her remarks?”
“Taufīq Fātimah is your wife now, Sālé Miyān; you should understand that she isn’t a fool.”
“I know. Would ACP Suraiyā Jamāl cross examine me?”
“Your father’s disappearance isn’t a normal event in Ved Nagar. Is it?”
“Certainly not. ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is already asking me searching questions. About my poisoning, I mean. Not about the mysterious disappearance of my father, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
I kept quiet for a moment only.
Then I whirled at him.
“As most of the Musalmān Beauties are nowadays, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is also against Pseudo Musalmīn very much. That’s why Abbū Imām and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has chosen ACP Suraiyā Jamāl to assist Muħammad Åbdullah, the Commissioner of Police here.”
“The Musalmīn are suffering now on the entire globe due to the mad activities of crazy Musalmān terrorists.”
“The Musalmīn must oppose the terrorists more than they are doing now.”
“There are some Musalmīn that think the terrorists are right.” Muħammad bin Qāsim clenched his fists in frustration and helplessness.
“That’s the problem the rest of the Musalmīn have to face if they don’t oppose the terrorists.”
“The Musalmīn are now deliberately marrying their ardent Musalmān sisters and daughters to Hindus now. They think it would prove they aren’t communal at all.”
“Abbū married Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim Bājī to Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. I was against it first, but when I listened to what Abbū had to say in the matter, I myself had to agree.”
“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl put in quite a bit of time asking me why we allowed Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim Bājī to marry Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“She is quite inquisitive about these matters.” I smiled somewhat curtly, “As Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl does too believe in Dr. Ali Sina that every Musalmān is either terrorist or potential terrorist at least. Sorry, the more I try to explain then it isn’t correct the more they believe I am being kind to the Musalmīn on the cost of Non Musalmīn’s life and wealth.”
“Well, they are correct. I myself think sometimes that you are more lenient to Musalmīn than to the Non Musalmīn.”
I whirled at Muħammad bin Qāsim once more.
“The hell you do.”*
Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled apologetically.
“I don’t want to lie to you any more, Sorry.”
“Sālé Miyān.” I smiled, “It’s alright. Okay.”
“I was poisoned a few days ago.”
“Before your father disappeared?”
“Yes. I thought it was a simple case of food poisoning, but apparently, it wasn’t. Anyway, that’s what ACP Suraiyā Jamāl says. She wants to make a lot of trouble.”
There was a moment of silence.
Only the sound of water slipping past the sides of the yacht was audible.
Moreover, it was plainly audible.
“I see.” I said.
“Taufīq Fātimah, my Hollywood Star wife, and I had dinner there. Both of us didn’t eat the same things. Taufīq Fātimah had red wine. I had white wine then. Taufīq Fātimah had prime ribs of beef cooked rare and French fried potatoes. I had fried oysters and vegetables. Only the desserts we had was the same. After half an hour of our eating, we both became ill. Taufīq Fātimah was only slightly ill while I was quite ill. I thought it a typical case of food poisoning.”
“I’m listening to.” I said.
I stood with my elbows over the rail.
I was looking down at the rippling water that curled up against the sides of the vessel, splashed over into little foam crested ripples and then fell rapidly astern.
There was silence for several seconds.
Then, Muħammad bin Qāsim said abruptly.
“I think we’re headed for the island, Jījū.”
“That’s right, Sālé Miyān.”
“I was talking about this food poisoning.”
“I requested you to protect Taufīq Fātimah if I die. I’m still waiting for the answer.”
“If Taufīq Fātimah would be implicated, I promise you to protect her if she is innocent.”
“She is innocent, Jījū. She is innocent. Somebody is trying his/her best to frame her.”
“She is a Hollywood Star, isn’t she?”
“Most of us Musalmīn don’t want to give that much liberty to Musalmān Beauties ever. We are so over possessive that we are crazy to govern even the lives of the Musalmān Beauties that aren’t related to us in any manner.”
“Are you telling me?”
“I think some crazy Musalmān is behind it, not Taufīq Fātimah. He/she wants to punish me by killing me in this way and let Taufīq Fātimah to go to gas chamber for the so called murder of her husband.”
“I was pretty sick. I called a physician. The same physician treated Taufīq Fātimah, my wife.”
I didn’t say anything.
Muħammad bin Qāsim continued to say.
“I explained to the physician treating both of us that it was food poisoning, probably something that had been canned because there was a burning metallic taste in my throat.”
I still didn’t say anything.
Muħammad bin Qāsim again continued.
“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl showed up yesterday afternoon and told me that I had been poisoned by arsenic. I think she is after to make something of it.”
“She asked me a lot of questions about what enemies I had and all that sort of type. Allah, I don’t want any newspaper and/or news channel notoriety of anything like that, particularly right at this time. I’m putting across several important business deals, Jījū, you already know.”
“That’s right,” I confirmed him, “How did ACP Suraiyā Jamāl think the arsenic get in the food?”
“She didn’t bother to tell me that. Instead, she wanted me to tell her that. I suggested her to go to the restaurant. If she is right about the arsenic, it might be the cook of the restaurant. Who else?”
“Anyone else poisoned?” I asked.
“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said that there had been no other complaints.”
I raised my eyes.
The sun was setting.
A thin moist haze seemed to be rising from the water.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan came along the deck.
She said cheerily.
“Hey, you both look rather serious. Spoiling your appetite by talking some damn business?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“Certainly not, Bājī. I was telling Jījū about ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s visit yesterday afternoon. You advised me to tell Jījū everything.”
“Oh, I still think it was food poisoning. You are already all right now.”
“Fit as a fiddle.”
“Yet, somewhat pale, however.”
“That’s an elder sister’s over concern, Bājī, nothing else.”
“Nonsense. What did your Jījū say?”
“He hasn’t. He was to say something when you came.”
“Well, I’m rounding up the guests for cocktails.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled authoritatively, “Dinner will be served in about thirty minutes. Your Jījū said he wants to give the cocktails time to take hold.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim asked casually.
“Bājī, do you know whether we’re headed for some fixed direction, or are we just cruising?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan put her right index finger on her lips.
“I’m not talking, sorry. Sealed orders from your Jījū.”
“We’re probably going to the island.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I don’t want to be impolite to you, Muħammad bin Qāsim. But I’m living in relationship with your Jījū now for four years about. During these years I’ve learned when it pleases Durgesh that I talk and when it pleases him that I won’t.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim teased her.
“Oh, come on, Bājī. You are not an ordinary wife any more. You are Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, the Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“Jacqueline Lincoln is the Everfirst Lady President of United States of America. But even Jacqueline Lincoln knows how to govern our ever indomitable Hindu husband. If we want something, we are cheerfully ready to pay for it. It’s an art to govern your husband.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
I was smiling on the efficient smartness of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She was indomitable too.
Only Durgesh could govern Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Jacqueline Lincoln.
In addition, it was a great honor for me, I knew.
Muħammad bin Qāsim and I accompanied Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan down to the canopied after deck.*
The seven hundred eighty six girls caught up with Taufīq Fātimah just as she reached the strips.
“Taufīq Fātimah,” one girl shouted to her.
Taufīq Fātimah didn’t recognize any of them
Nevertheless, their number, Seven hundred Eighty Six, told her their special status.
They were Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s girlies.
Taufīq Fātimah was now almost sure of it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the utmost successful Musalmān Beauty now.
She has successfully managed to conquer not Durgesh only, despite her thirty-two years younger bubbling youth, she successfully used her live in relationship with Durgesh to establish Democracy in Saůūdī Årab too.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used her extremely stunning Musalmān beauty and immensely overflowing Panjvaqtah Namāzī female Musalmān youth for it.
However, it was because her parents were with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Taufīq Fātimah also wanted to do many things, but her parents are too orthodox and too conservative.
The Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties definitely knew who Taufīq Fātimah was, even if Taufīq Fātimah didn’t know any of them.
“We want a run,” one of the Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties said, speaking loudly so that the people passing them could hear the challenge, “You can lead and pick the point.”
“Done,” Taufīq Fātimah smiled triumphantly, “You said you are Seven hundred Eighty Six in number. C-786th then, Durgesh Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī localway intersection.”
The Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties frowned.
Does Taufīq Fātimah outexcel them in brains too?
All the Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties were around twenty-eight.
So was Taufīq Fātimah.
Taufīq Fātimah leaned over and rolled up the cuffs of her pants a little.
She could shake all the Seven hundred Eighty Six before they reached the destination Taufīq Fātimah had named.
More couples, some triples too, passed and stepped on to the nearest strip.
The triples were not as efficient as the couples were.
The Pseudo Musalmīn husbands that formed the third of the Triples, were not as efficient as their Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers/live in relationship partners were.
Does Bisexuality really affect the Pseudo Musalmīn husbands adversely?
Nevertheless, the Triples are not only legal here; they are surviving as well, despite futile terrorist attacks.
No terrorist attack ever succeeded here at Ved Nagar.
The Law and Order at Ved Nagar was marvelous.
The governments of almost every country now studying the management of the Law and Order at Ved Nagar, with the Ved Nagar Government‘s express permission of course.*
A dance music was being played on the canopied after deck.
Sidrah Aħmad was dancing with Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Most of my Musalmān live in relationship partners and lady friends agreed with Shankar Mahāpralayankar more than with me.
“Your vision is right but your planning to achieve it is impractical, Durgesh darling.” Sidrah Aħmad used to say, “I think Shankar Mahāpralayankar is more practical.”
“Thank you, Sidrah Aħmad.” Shankar Mahāpralayankar beamed at her.
I smiled and looked at Nafīsah Salmān.
Nafīsah Salmān grimaced.
“I don’t agree with you, Sidrah Aħmad. You want to say, the terrorists cannot be controlled effectively if the noble persons too don’t resort to illegal means?”
“Sidrah Aħmad has a point there, Nafīsah Salmān.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan had looked at his wife gravely.
Nafīsah Salmān laughed.
“I never expect anything better from you, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.”
“Durgesh is a great man, no doubt.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said, “But he doesn’t understand Musalmān terrorists psychology at all. He thinks the Musalmīn are terrorists, criminals/criminal minded because they are Uneducated/Under Educated.”
“It’s not true?” I stopped my Uncut Hindu Penis inside Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan entirely buried there to my balls.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wrapped her strong nude legs around my nude Hindu male waist.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Penis driven more into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
I squeezed her nude young Musalmān buttocks and kissed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan on her lips.
“Dr. Ali Sina doesn’t agree with you, my dear Hindu husband.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me, contracting her vaginal muscles around my entire Uncut Hindu Shaft.
“And you think Dr. Ali Sina is a better authority on Islam than myself?” I smiled benignly enjoying my entire Uncut Hindu Shaft inside her young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled triumphantly but he didn’t see anything himself.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar had now Sidrah Aħmad on her knees.
He was penetrating Sidrah Aħmad now from her glorious behind.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said gravely.
“Dr. Ali Sina isn’t alone, Durgesh. He has too many followers and even numerous Co-authors now.”
“What the hell you think it does mean Ħumairah?”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī kept licking my Uncut Hindu Cock visiting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s young Musalmān Cunt vigorously.
“Simply that Dr. Ali Sina and his Co-authors can’t be ignored only by shrugging our shoulders.”
“Dr. Ali Sina has challenged the followers and admirers of Islam if anyone of them proves him wrong, Dr. Ali Sina would pay him a large amount of money.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan chuckled, “Why don’t you accept his challenge, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! if you think Dr. Ali Sina and his Co-authors are not correct in their interpretation of Islam?”*
The dog, deftly avoiding Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr’s kick, stood watching Muħammad bin Qāsim with lips that curled back from his fangs.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said gravely.
“Come on in. Let’s go inside, sit down, and talk this thing over in a civilized fashion.”
“We may differ about our idea what the civilized fashion actually is.” Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled sarcastically.
Nevertheless, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was smarter.
“Oh no, I don’t think so. You are as cuckold as I am. So, our ideas about what is civilized and what’s not can’t differ very much.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted at Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
“What the hell you mean? I am not cuckold even a bit.”
“You are, my dear boy, you are.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled patronizingly, “Most of us Musalmīn are actually cuckold to our Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers/live in relationship partners whether we are bold enough to acknowledge and accept it or not.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim looked at Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr contemptuously.
“You are still alive despite your immensely hateful opinion about most of us Musalmīn, because you are living here at Ved Nagar. If you lived elsewhere the Musalmān terrorists had killed you already.”
“My dear child,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled patronizingly once more, “You have only heard about Musalmān terrorists, don’t you? Have you met ever anyone?”
“What do you mean?”
“Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself is your Bājī. She is herself running the movement Cuckold Your Musalmān husband since she wasn’t even the Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. She is the Brain and Power behind cuckolding most of us Musalmān husbands. What do you think? Durgesh has cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands? Shankar Mahāpralayankar has cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands? Hindus have cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands? No, never. Our own Musalmān Houseladies have cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands.”
“Because you Musalmān terrorists were blaspheming Islam more than the non Musalmīn.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thundered at Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr suddenly, “Even then the impotent Musalmīn were not criticizing you blaspheming bastards. We, Musalmān Houseladies of yours, never did cuckold you enjoying it very much. We did it because we didn’t have another option whatsoever. You bastard Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn compelled us, your own Musalmān Houseladies, to cuckold you if we had to save our own Īmān.”*
Amīnah Zahīr raised her hand.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim, have you come here to discuss the cuckolding of you Musalmān husbands?”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed at Muħammad bin Qāsim contemptuously, scornfully.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was too indulged in discussions with Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr he hadn’t even realized when Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr had brought them through the first door to the left.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had led the way into the room that had been fitted up as a library cum bedroom.
It was a neat job of books and shelves.
I was fucking Amīnah Zahīr there on the bed.
“Kħush Āmadīd,” Amīnah Zahīr smiled at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim, making a sweeping inclusive gesture, “Welcome.”
The party seated themselves.
“All right,” Amīnah Zahīr smiled at them melodically, “now let’s hear what you folks have to say.”
“You’re getting the cart and horse all mixed up,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled courteously, “We want to hear what you have to say.”
“We have nothing to say.” Amīnah Zahīr smiled disarmingly.
“You knew Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
“Who says so?” Amīnah Zahīr smiled charmingly.
“I say so.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled charmingly too, “Amīnah Zahīr, you knew Al Samīnah Al Qāsim when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was in Nevada. You were quite friendly with her. You talked Al Samīnah Al Qāsim out of getting a divorce from her husband. You told Al Samīnah Al Qāsim that if she’d sit tight and let her husband think Al Samīnah Al Qāsim had secured a divorce, then when Imām Muħammad Ħasan had found some other interest he could be made to pay a lot of money for a settlement.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I never thought Muħammad bin Qāsim was so great a man.
I thought he was drastically communal.
Yet my opinion about Muħammad bin Qāsim was mostly based on the reports I received either from his sisters or from Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
However, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was himself a drastic Hindu communal.
He hated Musalmīn to the extent that he wanted every Musalmān woman get fucked by a Hindu whether that Hindu is himself a Sukr’t, a noble doer, or not.
I took the envelope from him.
“I tried to entrust ACP Suraiyā Jamāl for this envelope. But she refused to have it. Instead, she advised me to give it to you.”
“Don’t worry.” I said gravely, “I would see to it that whoever the conspirator/conspirators are, s/he/they never succeed. And in case, Taufīq Fātimah really needed my help, she’d get it.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was overwhelmed.
He fell on my feet.
“Please, forgive me, Jījū. I was a damn fool that I hated you. I was so communal that I couldn’t see anything except that you are a Hindu and you were fucking extremely attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Beauties. I couldn’t differentiate you from the ever-communal ever anti-Muslim Shankar Mahāpralayankar. I’m sorry.”
I raised him from my feet and hugged him.
If he was doing an act, it was really marvelous.
But, the question was: If I could adjust with even Shankar Mahāpralayankar why couldn’t I adjust with Muħammad bin Qāsim too?
Were both of them not communal?
So, if one of them was excused why not the other too?
Why not the other too?*
Muħammad bin Qāsim looked at me.
“I discussed the matter with your friend ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. She thinks I’m mistaken. Taufīq Fātimah may not be as innocent in her opinion as I think out of sheer stupidity that I want to possess a Hollywood celebrity.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was right.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl had met me once when I was coming out of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim Mansion.
The door of Muħammad bin Qāsim’s office was locked.
Almost immediately, we could hear the sound of steps.
Muħammad bin Qāsim, radiating his inherent femininity more than he was radiating his masculinity opened the door.
“Well, well, well, my greatest Hindu Jījū with my Hollywood celebrity wife, in person?” his eyes seemed hot with emotion.
However, his more feminine and less masculine face was cool, collected and thoroughly master of himself.
Yet his eyes belied his placid, docile, calm features.
He was not an utter damn fool after all.
“Come on, Jījū. So, your porn star heroine received you here?”
Taufīq Fātimah laughed.
“Jealous of who, Muħammad bin Qāsim? Jealous of me that I got Durgesh as my porn costar hero, or jealous of Durgesh that he has already enjoyed your Hollywood Celebrity wife to his heart’s content?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed good-naturedly.
“Hey, you were NOT my wife then. I’m proud of myself that you decided to marry me ultimately while my Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt Jījū was also available to you.”
“That’s the spirit.” Taufīq Fātimah winked at her husband, “Why the hell we be jealous of something that’s running from someone’s past? Why shouldn’t we be proud of the present? It’s the positive thinking, the positive attitude toward life.”
“Thank you. Won’t you two porn stars come in, please?”
I didn’t contradict him.
It was useless.
People easily used to suspect that I’ve already fucked every Beauty that they saw with me ever, whether she was a Musalmān Beauty or other.
Even if they believed I didn’t make the first move, they never believed the innocence of the Beauty concerned.
They thought every Beauty was crazy to fuck me however moral she was.
I was an exception for the Beauties as far as their morals were concerned.
In their bright opinion, I was something like a trophy, every Beauty whosoever was crazy, to get if she could ever.
Muħammad bin Qāsim escorted Taufīq Fātimah and me through an outer office into his private office.
“I want you folks to meet Miss Bābarah Åālamgīr. She is a successful reporter as well as she has a real estate agency in the building and I knew she’d be working late. I asked her to come in.”*
I walked past them to the coffee pot.
“You’re just jealous that it wasn’t you screaming I quipped.” I smiled at Nishāt Nazli.
“Damn right we are.” Nishāt Nazli answered.
“Yeah, what we got last night was just a tease. We’re going to try to bribe Nasīm Muåāwiyah into letting us fuck you wildly.” Zubaydah Bābar threatened.
Bābarah Åālamgīr just sat there sipping her coffee and smiling.
She was admiring my Uncut Hindu Lund and how tight and firm it was then as I turned to face them she licked her quivering crimson Musalmān lips at the sight of my half-inflated Uncut Hindu Cock.
Bābarah Åālamgīr once again stiffened her resolve to have me inside her as soon as she could manage it.
“So what are you Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls planning for today?” I asked cunningly smiling, teasing them.
“Nishāt Nazli and I are going in for some more beach time.” Zubaydah Bābar answered miraculously.
“Nasīm Muåāwiyah wanted to go visit her aunt, she doesn’t live far and I told her I’d drive. We’ll probably be back after lunch.” Bābarah Åālamgīr answered. “In fact we need to leave in about two hours so I figure I’ll let her sleep a bit before I wake her. What about you?”
“Is she really Nasīm Muåāwiyah ? Isn’t she Al Ħamd Al Åbbās?”
“Are you crazy? I don’t know what Al Zakāt Al Qāsim is after, yet you…”
“I have some errands to run this morning, then back here before lunch and be lazy the rest of the day.” I answered, interrupting the tense high voltage interchange among them.
Al Zakāt Al Qāsim has really disturbed them materially.
“Goody, we’ll come back for lunch and then drag you down to the beach with us. You fuck us all on the beach, Hindu boy. “Nishāt Nazli offered.
“You know living here I very rarely go to the beach. It’s 100 yards away and I haven’t even been down once this season. So maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
“Well, we want to get there and get a good spot so we are going to get our suits on and get going. See you at lunch.” Zubaydah Bābar said.
With the two of them leaving, Bābarah Åālamgīr and I were left alone once again.
We made small talk for a while.
I noticed how comfortable I had become with Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr’s nudity and with my own around her.
We both were nude.
The relationship of a Hindu Stepfather and Musalmān stepdaughter was fading away fast, with deliberate nonstop efforts from Bābarah Åālamgīr.
She was adamant to convert it into a permanent live in relationship now.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was determined to have me inside her, as her Ammī had.
“I wonder if that’s a good thing.” I asked myself.
I also knew that they weren’t going to see Nasīm Muåāwiyah‘s aunt today.
They had interviews with my friend Shankar, the president of the Qāid-e-Åāzam University Islamabad board, but I didn’t say anything.
I did wonder though when they were going to tell me.
‘Probably want to make sure they have the job.’ I reasoned.
We toasted a couple of bagels and added juice to our breakfast before finishing with another cup of coffee.
I enjoyed the time with Bābarah Åālamgīr and the conversation.
“Well I guess I should get a shower and get dressed. Do you want me to wake Nasīm Muåāwiyah, or do you yourself want to?” I asked Bābarah Åālamgīr.
“She’s got some time yet to sleep. Probably when you get out of the shower you can wake her.” She answered as I stood to head for the shower.
I acknowledged her request, walked toward the bedroom and then walked in shower in the master bath.
As I walked away, Bābarah Åālamgīr watched my Uncut Hindu Lund work and she found herself with a finger in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot as I disappeared around the corner.
“Ohh, I’m getting bad.” Bābarah Åālamgīr thought to herself. “Fingering myself as I watch Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund walk away. I do need to fuck Durgesh soon.” She thought as she continued to diddle herself.
Bābarah Åālamgīr sat there for a couple of minutes before she got up the nerve to follow the thought that ran through her mind and suddenly she stood and headed after me.
“Before I lose my nerve. I may not get to fuck Durgesh today but I’ll at least take another step closer.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr walked to my bedroom door.
I had left it opened when I went in.
Bābarah Åālamgīr noted that Nasīm Muåāwiyah was still sound asleep.
Bābarah Åālamgīr turned, opened the door to the bathroom and slipped in.
I was in the shower and the glass doors were all steamed up.
I couldn’t see her.
She opened the door quietly.
I had my back turned.
Bābarah Åālamgīr slipped in and quietly closed the door.
Before I could turn around, Bābarah Åālamgīr picked up the soap, quickly soaped up her hands, reached out and began to run her soapy hands down my back.
I moaned at her touch.
Yet I couldn’t help to arch my back, though successfully suppressing the consequent natural pleasure.
I didn’t want to let the others, whosoever they might be, capitalize on my weaknesses.
It might be dangerous for HVSI Group of Companies and myself too.
I had to act prudently ever.
“I tried not to wake you, Nasīm Muåāwiyah, but now I’m glad I did. You can keep that up as long as you like.”
I couldn’t even imagine it wasn’t Nasīm Muåāwiyah or Al Ħamd Al Åbbās at all.
It was Bābarah Åālamgīr.
Smiling cunningly, yet without answering, Bābarah Åālamgīr stepped up behind me and ran her hands down my sides and around to my chest and stomach.
From my response, Bābarah Åālamgīr knew I loved the attention and when she moved her hands down to wash my Uncut Hindu Cock, Bābarah Åālamgīr found it was rock hard.
She allowed her soapy hands to stroke me and then reached underneath to fondle my Hindu balls.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was tempted to keep going and jerk me off or at least get me to a state of arousal where I would not refuse her, but she chose to go with her original plan.
Slow and sure, one step at a time.
Bābarah Åālamgīr already knew she was winning me over and it would not be much longer.
Bābarah Åālamgīr took my Uncut Hindu Lund in her hands and stroked me a bit more before she let me go.
“Ok Durgesh darling, my turn now.” Bābarah Åālamgīr said as she turned her back to me to be washed.*
I was shocked.
I had been so sure it was Nasīm Muåāwiyah in the shower with me I never even looked.
“Bābarah Åālamgīr,” I was curt somewhat, “what the hell are you doing here with me?”
“I figured I needed a shower too, and we could save water.” Bābarah Åālamgīr answered innocently, glancing back over her shoulder. “Come on, do my back please.”
I was furious.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, had gotten into the shower with me and had washed me already, without my express permission.
She had even stroked my Uncut Hindu Cock.
But not all that much, she could have been washing me.
My thoughts warred in my head.
We had been sitting talking, having breakfast just a few minutes ago, completely naked and neither of us objected it.
Was this really a big step?
Then almost without conscious thought, as my brain argued with our mutual desires, I picked up the soap and started to wash her back for her.
She won’t stop, I knew now.
She had experienced my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock in her palm now.
She had played with it while I thought she was Nasīm Muåāwiyah.
Now, no use locking the stable after the horse was stolen.
Let her go ahead, because she is adamant to go ahead.
So, why after a bitter argument?
Why not without any argument if it’s inevitable?
My hands touched her naked shoulders, ran over them and across her shoulder blades.
Bābarah Åālamgīr arched her back at my touch.
I followed through; by running, my hands down her back, to the top of her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass and then turned them away and up her sides and back down again.
I slid them down her sides to her Musalmān legs, continued washing the outsides of her thighs, and then again turned and this time brought them over her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass in slow loving circles.
I washed her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass carefully and ran my hands down over the swell of it and down her thighs.
That done, I brought them back up across her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān butt and around to her stomach slowly running my hands over her flat stomach and upwards, up toward her chest.
Then finally, I ran my hands over her Musalmān tits.
I let my palms rest over her nipples and moved them around in circles, washing them but at the same time stimulating them.
Then all too soon I moved them back down across her tummy to her enormously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mound, over the little strip of hair that she left there and down across her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
Bābarah Åālamgīr, smiling triumphantly, spread her Musalmān legs a little to allow me inside her thighs.
I brushed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot lips with my hand.
A tingle shot through Bābarah Åālamgīr.
Then I was done.
She felt me begin to release her and then stop.
I brought my hands back up to her Musalmān tits, cupped them, and drew her to me.
My front against her back.
Bābarah Åālamgīr could feel my full 9 ½ inches pressing into the small crack of her back and felt a trickle of juice release from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot as she realized what it was she was feeling pressing back there.
I held nude Bābarah Åālamgīr to nude me, my hands over her Musalmān tits pressing into me and I kissed the top of her head.
“I love you honey, Bābarah Åālamgīr.” I whimpered passionately.
I squeezed her a bit harder then released her.
Bābarah Åālamgīr turned to face me and kissed me on the lips, gently,
“I love you too Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”
Bābarah Åālamgīr wrapped her arms around my middle and pulled me close.
Bābarah Åālamgīr reveled in the feeling of my Uncut Hindu Cock pressing into her belly.
I placed my hands on her back and let them run up and down.
Fondling her and feeling her, touching her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass and thighs.
Then I released her.
“I think we’re clean enough. We should get out.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled triumphantly once more, nodded as she released me and we stepped out of the shower.
She was afraid I was going to ignore her now, but to her pleasant surprise, I didn’t.
I smiled at her and offered to dry her off.
Bābarah Åālamgīr gladly accepted the invitation.
Then as I ran, the big soft towel over her extremely striking Panjvaqtah Namāzī female Musalmān body Bābarah Åālamgīr felt as though she would orgasm from my touch.
“Nasīm Muåāwiyah is right you do have a really nice touch, very sensual. Thank you for doing that for me Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! It was nice to have you wash me and it was nice to wash you.” Bābarah Åālamgīr told me as she took a clean towel and rubbed me dry.
I noticed she spent a little more time on my Uncut Hindu Cock and balls than would have been required but I did not stop her or even mention it.
It was no use now.
Moreover, mostly, I admitted to myself because I enjoyed it too.
Then I surprised Bābarah Åālamgīr once more.
“Yes it was excellent. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was pleasantly shocked.
That almost sounded like an invitation, certainly an acknowledgement.
Now Bābarah Åālamgīr was more certain than ever that she was winning this battle.
Bābarah Åālamgīr even had the feeling that I was sorely tempted in the shower to just give up and make love to her.
She knew she was too.
Bābarah Åālamgīr had fought off the temptation the whole time just to drop to her knees and suck me into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
She smiled to herself, soon, soon she would have me and it would be better because I would do it willingly, even eagerly.
That was how it needed to be if it was to be right and good between us.
Bābarah Åālamgīr stood on her toes and kissed me again.
“Thanks Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!. Now let’s go wake Nasīm Muåāwiyah up.” Bābarah Åālamgīr deliberately squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund, bent down, kissed it, licked it, and suddenly taking it fully in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth, Bābarah Åālamgīr started to give me a tremendous blowjob.
Absolutely unprepared for it, I was startled and dumbfounded.
Bābarah Åālamgīr played it very smart.
She proposed to go wake Nasīm Muåāwiyah.
And when I was confident there won’t be any more mischief from her, Bābarah Åālamgīr suddenly started sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund without any ultimatum whatsoever.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was happily sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund now, triumphantly that her strategy worked.
Before I could object, my Uncut Hindu Lund was inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth and Bābarah Åālamgīr was sucking it already ravenously.
Realizing Bābarah Åālamgīr’s strategy and her victory over me, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the immense sexual bliss Bābarah Åālamgīr was bestowing on me.
It was futile now to stop Bābarah Åālamgīr.
She could not be stopped now.
Even the hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
From the service Bābarah Åālamgīr was providing to my Uncut Hindu Lund, it was more than obvious; Bābarah Åālamgīr loved me with all her existence.
Now it was up to me to have her as my indebted friend or scorned enemy.
Was I fool enough to convert my such a devoted friend into my enemy?
I opted to stand there, surrendering to Bābarah Åālamgīr’s needs; with my eyes closed, enjoying every blissful moment of it.
It lasted as if until infinity.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was attacking my Uncut Hindu Lund with her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth in every way possible, as if it was a matter of life and death to her.
She had gripped my hips strongly.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was on her knees.
And her exceedingly beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth was extremely busy with my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Bābarah Åālamgīr sucked my Uncut Hindu Lund ravenously in every possible way.
It was obvious from her every expression Bābarah Åālamgīr was enjoying the act very much.
Ultimately, I had to explode into Bābarah Åālamgīr’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
Bābarah Åālamgīr looked triumphantly at me and gulped every drop of my Hindu Vīrý I blasted into her tremendously attractive awfully stunning enormously cute, incredibly elegant, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Musalmān mouth.
Then Bābarah Åālamgīr winked at me.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist the temptation. Thanks for your cooperation however.”
“Sālī.” I smiled, “very smart of you. I was caught absolutely unprepared.”
“I’m 29 now, my darling. And a PhD. I can take care of my dreams.” Bābarah Åālamgīr’s mischievous Musalmān eyes were sparkling triumphant.
“Yes, I can see it now.”
Suddenly Bābarah Åālamgīr stood up, hugged me with her arms around my neck, and kissed me full on my Hindu lips.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was rock hard.
It was knocking on the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān entrance of Bābarah Åālamgīr’s Jannat-e-Firdaus.
Bābarah Åālamgīr opened her Musalmān legs wider and allowed my Uncut Hindu Lund to enter her Jannat-e-Firdaus.
My entire head vanished into her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
“Enough, Bābarah Åālamgīr.” I ordered her curtly, “No more mischief. Let it remain there. No more penetration now if you really don’t want to lose me forever.”
“Okay. Sorry if I’ve gone too far.” Bābarah Åālamgīr looked into my eyes impishly, entirely unashamed of anything she was doing.
“I want your Uncut Hindu Lund into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot fully embedded deepest.”
“I know, Sālī, I know. But not now.”
“I promise to fuck you as much as you want to, but not now.”
“I need it now.”
“Bābarah Åālamgīr, I never wanted you as my woman.”
“But I always loved you as my dream man.”
“But you never said it to me. Now let me adjust mentally for what you want from me. Don’t speed it up. You want to make yourself a better wife to me than your Ammī was. Don’t you?”
Bābarah Åālamgīr’s mischievous Musalmān eyes sparkled.
“Of course. I want to replace my Ammī forever. And I’m not ashamed of it even a bit. You maybe sixty three as you claim but you are still the most competent Hindu husband for all of us Musalmān Beauties.”
The two of us moved out to the bedroom and got onto the bed on either side of the still sleeping Nasīm Muåāwiyah.
She was still on her belly exactly the way I left her earlier.
We called her name and ran our hands down her back until she stirred.
“Come on it’s time to get up. You have to go see your aunt, Bābarah Åālamgīr tells me.” I said.
“Hmmm, I was hoping you’d wake me up the way you did earlier.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah purred sleepily.
Bābarah Åālamgīr laughed.
“If Durgesh does that you’ll go see your aunt with his Hindu cum running down your leg and we can’t have that, can we?”
“But it was so much fun.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah pouted “Just a little. Please.” She asked raising her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass up into the air and wiggling it back and forth.
Bābarah Åālamgīr moved around behind her and looked at her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass and Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
“I don’t know Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!. It looks pretty good. If I were a guy I would definitely do her. Hell, if you don’t. I might just eat her out right here.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The gun imh 59786 was still in my hand.
The condition was now under control.
I pushed the catch of the .22 HVSI revolver.
It released the cylinder.
I swung out the cylinder and said,
“One empty cartridge case in the cylinder.”
I watched her cunningly.
“How can you say that? Neither you know her, nor I.”
“Isn’t it obvious? Damn it.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said angrily, “Thanks Allah, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is herself a Musalmān lady. My employer is being framed because she is against terrorists and Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. I demand protection for her.”
“We Musalmān Beauties call you ‘Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!’ Don’t we?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said furiously, “You are already fucking her. Don’t you? Now go ahead and protect her from the Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. They are trying to frame her because she is promoting Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club being a major shareholder there.”
“How do you know I won’t?” I myself asked furiously.
Both of them looked at each other.
Then relaxed somewhat, they both tried to smile,
“Sorry.” They said simultaneously.
“Let’s assume someone planted this revolver here really to frame Nauhīd Niyāzī.”
“She isn’t Nauhīd Niyāzī.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk immediately said, “She is Shaguftah Rashīd. I don’t know why you are calling her suddenly now Nauhīd Niyāzī. What do you think; I don’t know my employer even?”
She extended her right hand to me once more.
I looked questioningly at her.
“These are two other passports I found here more.”
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk smiled.
“One of them must be my passport.”
“What if even your doubt is right?” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk smiled indifferently, “Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan isn’t any organization of us Musalmān Beauties that is terrorist, Criminal/ Criminal Minded. Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad is an organization of us Musalmān Beauties that is devoted to educate ourselves as high as we can. We hate crime unconditionally. It’s included in the constitution of Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad never to compromise with the terrorists, Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. Any soft corner for any of them, if proven, terminates the membership of Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad. What’s wrong in its membership?”*
“I’ve never hidden any fact about my present or past.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said righteously, “Not from either government of India, government of Saůūdī Årab, nor even from my employer, Shaguftah Rashīd.”
“The name of your employer according to her passport is Nauhīd Niyāzī.”
“I doubt it can’t be her passport.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk denied it contemptuously, “Aren’t you jumping on conclusions, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl? Shouldn’t you be more patient and more investigating instead of jumping on baseless conclusions?”
“The charge was never proven against me.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said bitterly, “You must know it as well, as you know that I was prosecuted on the charge.”
“Yes, why not? Certainly.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said fearlessly, “Only I wasn’t expelled from Saůūdī Årab ever. I left Saůūdī Årab after my trial there, on my own accord. Being a Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān yourself, I don’t need to tell you that not only in Saůūdī Årab, in entire Pseudo Islamic Countries as well, once a suspect is always a suspect. Why should I risk my life in Saůūdī Årab if I could live freely in India as a citizen of Sultanate of Oman?”
“I see. How interesting it is however that you have the citizenship of the same country you were charged to be on payroll of.”
“You don’t know the present Sultan of Sultanate of Oman. Do you?”
“Certainly not, my dear, certainly not.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled tartly, “I’m only an ACP here, not even the Commissioner of Police. A friend and sālā of Durgesh, Muħammad Åbdullah has the honor. How can I know any Sultan of any Årab Sultanate, including the said Sultanate of Oman?”
“He is a very good man.”
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was smiling patronizingly now.
“Shouldn’t I have?”
“Sure. The point I’m making is different somewhat however.”
I looked at Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.
She couldn’t provide me that information before.
But she is providing me the same now indirectly by cross-questioning Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk herself.
Should I be more attentive to Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk myself?
My basic policy was:
‘Be cautious, but never treat others as your enemy until their enmity to you isn’t proven beyond any doubt.
Never mistake making the others your enemy if they are not already, by doubting their honesty and sincerity to you.’
It was continuously being reported to me from various sources I had access to that, the present Sultan of Sultanate of Oman was a better human being than his contemporaries were.
He was reported to be even better than his own predecessors were.
At present, it had 167 members of the parliament.
Fifteen of them were women.
One hundred fifty two were males.
Not balanced very much.
Yes, but so were the other democratic parliaments even.
The old wood cabin was surrounded by darkness.
The shades were drawn.
A dog lay motionless on the front porch.
A thin stream of smoke flowed out of the chimney and headed north.
It was Makkah Mukarramah itself.
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was not a doctor then.
She was Just eighteen Just adult.
Sitting silently in front of the fireplace, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was shoving stacks of paper into the hot flames.
Damn Yazīd Malåūn.
He destroyed the great Islamic revolution only because his clan hated the clan of Ħuzūrs.
In his over enthusiasm to establish Islamic morals and discipline Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd razī Allāhu tålā ånahu didn’t Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūq, Fārūq-e-Åāzamrzu, actually unknowingly encouraged Ħazrat Muåāwiyahrzu?
Durgesh says John Elray is wrong that Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūqrzu couldn’t forget the ancestral rivalry with the clan of Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd razī Allāhu tålā ånahu.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me scrutinizing.
“There are some persons who say even you don’t understand the Islamic movement of Ħuzūrs.”
“Well, they might be right.”
“What?” my duly married wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, looked at me curtly.
I smiled teasing them.
“Once a humane always a humane.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never cared to get your appreciation.” Saiyadah Fātimah PhD said, still curtly to me, “Kħadījah Muħammad and I always cared for childishly. The result is we failed and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is succeeding.”*
I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“We Hindus are not tired of you Musalmān Beauties. Neither we are ever afraid of terrorists and Criminal/ Criminal Minded Musalmīn. You know it very well. The conspiracies of Muħammad Ůsmān are not proven still now.”
I controlled myself.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said again.
“We’ve tried to be civilized about the thing. I knew you think we Musalmān Beauties are unduly, unjustifiably, harsh on our Musalmān mankind. You think we enjoy them punishing unduly when we get support from you Hindus. Why don’t you understand they deserve it?”
“What do you want Durgesh?”
“Stop humiliating Musalmīn until they aren’t proven guilty.”
“Your sense of justice―”
“Unjustified? Impractical? Unreasonable?”
“You must peruse Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org more attentively.”
“I’ve studied Al Qur’an Al Karīm and Aħādīs-e-muqaddasāt myself. I’ve studied Al Tārīkħ Al Islam too deeply. I’m sorry to say I don’t agree with Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org absolutely.”
“We Musalmān Beauties ourselves don’t agree with Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org absolutely.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “Yet he and his co-authors are not absolutely incorrect. Are they?”
“But the activities of the Musalmīn they discuss so fearlessly are entirely correct. Aren’t they?”
“I never said that.”
“Yet you never stopped favoring them.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah charged me, “You think Muħammad Ůsmān maybe innocent. Well, if he is innocent why the hell he is maintaining so many households in different Pseudo Islamic Countries as well as in the other countries too?”
I looked at her gravely.
“You really don’t know?”
“What do you mean?”*
I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gravely.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly,
“Yes. There are so many other Pseudo Musalmīn too. The bastards pretend they marry only four Musalmān wives. But they never tell anyone that they maintain so many households in different Pseudo Islamic Countries as well as in the other countries too. In every household they have their different set of four Musalmān wives.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we Hindus and you Musalmān Beauties haven’t left another alternative for them except to resort to it. What the Pseudo Musalmīn can do? Their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives hate them because they aren’t ultra-modern, sophisticated and well educated. Sooner or later they join either my bed or the bed of other powerful and capable Hindus that can take care of them perfectly and protect them from their incompetent Pseudo Musalmīn husbands.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me patiently.
“Working for our Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, we adopt various pretenses to reach the appropriate Jet Musalmān Beauty. We have an assigned territory. I too have. I pretended to have a series of books that are designed to give the newly wed, and still unwed, Musalmān Beauties how to deal with an orthodox Musalmān husband and ultramodern Hindu lover simultaneously.”
“The books are so cleverly arranged that there is really no age limit.”
“Not even just eighteen to thirty you call Jet?”
“Not even just eighteen to thirty we call Jet.”
“You aren’t taking optimum interest.”
“You are mistaken.”
“Nonsense. He is already cuckolded. He can’t even imagine taking any risk that his videos of cuckolded life style be released at the movie theaters and multiplexes of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad etcetera.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me harshly.
“Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gives us members all sorts of sides helps, does advertising and secures lists of live prospects so that we don’t have to waste our time in fruitless door to door canvassing. These prospects are sent in at the rate of about ten a day. Sometimes they mail them in, sometimes they telephone them.”
“What is a live prospect?” I asked.
“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī and Muħammad Ůsmān have a very nice house. They have some spare rooms as well as a guesthouse. Every spare room has its own washbowl and toilet. Yet, it also has a connection with the downstairs bath. Now, listen to me carefully, Durgesh, it’s very important.”
I nodded gravely.
“I’m listening to, don’t worry. Muħammad Ůsmān is not my responsibility. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah and you are my responsibilities. If Muħammad Ůsmān is really planning some conspiracy against anyone of you both, it’s my responsibility to protect both of you.”
“Thank you.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sighed somewhat assured now, “Muħammad Ůsmān never liked me. Yet on the persistent insistence of Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī sometimes I have to stay with her even at night, you know.”
“Muħammad Ůsmān is away from home a lot.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah went on, “He claims he is some kind of a business sharpshooter. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī has always been rather indefinite about what he himself does. Despite Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī inquiring him so many times, Muħammad Ůsmān never told her his true whereabouts. Anyhow Muħammad Ůsmān travels a lot.”
“Muħammad Ůsmān travels a lot.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah nodded, “and makes investments. He has misappropriated Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī’s money already to the extent that now he always seems to have plenty of money. Even then, I’ve never been able to find out exactly what my ever shrewd ever Criminal/ Criminal Minded brother in law does.”
I kissed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
She was on her back now.
Her nude magnificent legs were on my shoulders.
“It was necessary.” I said gravely, “You both had cuckolded him despite my persistent objections. He is shrewd. I had to put some shadow on him to know of his whereabouts.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled,
“His newly married fourth wife, Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās?”
I smiled too.
“None whatsoever. Yet, you put one more shadow on him, his secretary Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm. Didn’t you?”
“He is too shrewd to be shadowed by only his new fourth wife.”*
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm put a suitcase down, and then she rushed to me, put her arms around my neck and kissed me on my lips.
“This is the suitcase?” I asked.
“This is the suitcase.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm chuckled mischievously.
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.
I laughed sarcastically.
“I don’t know. I haven’t studied about your Sāħir Ludhiyānvī ever so minutely.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I hadn’t another alternative.
Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was right.
To hell with every ethics whatsoever.
A human life is more important than everything is, including ethics too.
That’s what even Hinduism believes in.
Why otherwise Lord Vishñu had deceived his sisters in law, his Salhajs, Vr’ndā and Tulsī and made love to them?
Wasn’t it to save humanity from the totalitarians Shankhchūđ and Jalandhar?
Who says it was incest?
No, it wasn’t incest.
It was not done to fulfill his own male animal desires at all.
Why did Lord Rām kill Vāli hiding behind a tree?
Why did Lord Kr’shñ made Yudhishŧhir to lie that Ashvatthāmā had been killed?
Hinduism never had impractical ethics detrimental to humanity.
Yet, even then, I was careful enough not to forget there might be movie/ video cameras and/or other devices to frame us, all the three of us.
She was already busy in searching the surroundings with a fine-toothed comb.
How pleasant it is to have an utmost competent police officer with you to assist you when you need very much.
Even in her unconsciousness, Shaguftah Rashīd had spread her legs as if inviting me to make love to her.
I approached Shaguftah Rashīd between her legs.
How beautiful she was.
I was already hardened abundantly.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā had given me everything I needed ever quite in abundance.
They smiled as if wishing me ‘best of luck’, as well as success in saving Shaguftah Rashīd’s life.
Shaguftah Rashīd smiled in unconsciousness as if enjoying it very much herself.
I didn’t know what her own reaction would be that I made love to her to save her life, after gaining consciousness.*
Even though it was abundant now that Musalmān Beauties were themselves wooing Hindu men to have sex with them, having their own lavish reasons, I couldn’t deny the fact that so many of them changed their tune after enjoying Uncut Hindu Prick to their hearts’ content.
And why shouldn’t they?
Pseudo Islam was a communal and imperialist movement.
It vanished entirely to the hilt.
I kissed unconscious Shaguftah Rashīd feeling completely content now.*
Well, why shouldn’t I?
But why can’t I enjoy it as well?
To hell with the impractical moralists, unreasonable moralizers, unrealistic preachers, unfeasible critics, unworkable philosophers, unrealistic puritans, impractical saints, and impractical prudes, if they criticize me on it.
Most of them had only thought of it.
They never experienced it.
I started fucking Shaguftah Rashīd passionately and wildly rather.
Being an utmost successful Sex Therapist I knew she needed it.
Even in her unconsciousness, Shaguftah Rashīd was not only enjoying my passionate Hindu sex kicks very much, she was also cooperating with me, rather responding my passionate Hindu sex kicks even more passionately and more wildly.
She had already put her legs on my shoulders.
“Well, Durgesh darling, I think you would like to see it.”
She was also busy in searching the surroundings.
It was a passport however.
It was Nauhīd Niyāzī.*
Before I could pull myself together, Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk also twisted at me and extended a gun to me.
It was fully embedded into her.
“I’ve found it in her dressing drawer.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said gravely.
She waved the gun at me.
“Durgesh darling,” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said curtly, “I’m quite certain it’s one of the guns Imām Muħammad Ħasan keeps at Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club for the protection of his Musalmān Beauties and Hindu male members from the terrorists and Pseudo Musalmīn.”
There wasn’t any indication on Nauhīd Niyāzī’s extremely beautiful face that she was conscious at all and understanding how incriminating evidences both ACP Suraiyā Jamāl and Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk had found against her.
“How do you know?” I asked Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk taking the gun from her hand.
I had wrapped a handkerchief however before taking the gun from the hand of Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk looked at me gravely.
“I have seen the guns Imām Muħammad Ħasan keeps there.”
“You are also a member of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club as your employer is?”
“Of course, and I also own quite a stock of shares there too.”
“I see.” I started fucking Nauhīd Niyāzī once again.
However, I wasn’t certain even now that her real name was Nauhīd Niyāzī.
It was never possible if her real name was not Shaguftah Rashīd.
Ved Nagar was not only what it appeared to be ostensibly.
It wasn’t easy to pull wool on the eyes of the security authorities of Ved Nagar.
I watched the gun in my hand.
It was a .22 caliber HVSI revolver, more beautiful, yet similarly more dangerous, than a similar Smith and Wesson revolver.
It was stamped with a number in its metal, imh 59786.
The number evidenced that the gun was made on the special order from Imām Muħammad Ħasan, imh was its proof.
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk might telling the truth.
The gun was of a special make exclusively made for Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.*
Kħadījah Muħammad and I could hear the rapid click clack… click clack… click clack of heels in the corridor.
Kħadījah Muħammad was in her rukū and I was fucking her once more from her behind.
I indicated to Kħadījah Muħammad to open the door.
She did it gravely.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled at both of us.
“Thank you so much for waiting, Durgesh, I’m sorry I’m late. I just couldn’t make it any sooner.”
I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah over carefully and said,
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled too.
“Well, Durgesh has just cum into me. You may take over, if you want to.”
“Hey, thank you. Thank you very much. I never thought you’d be so nice.”
I pulled Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah in my arms.
“Yes, and that’s why she is successful now in eliminating the age old kingdom of Al Saåūds from Saůūdī Årab. Even on the pathway of establishing Democracy everywhere in entire Pseudo Islamic Countries.”
“You too appreciate Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?”
“You are right.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“Thank you. However there is some difference between the ways Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I imitate you.”
“Allah, you both are trying to make me something more than I myself feel to be.” Kħadījah Muħammad tried to be modest.
“I appreciate your modesty.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “However, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan imitates you blindly while I tried to do something more you didn’t, yet Durgesh deserved to be done with.”
“Hey you two! What the hell you think I am?”
“The greatest Hindu lover of us Musalmān Beauties in the entire history of humanity. Kħadījah Muħammad raped you when she met you first. But I kidnapped you first, and then raped you.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah winked at both of us.
“Thank you.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah kissed me back gratefully, as if highly indebted to me.
I myself undressed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and then I started fucking her.
“You are most welcome.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled at her big heartedly, “He is fucking me nonstop for hours. I wanted some time to breathe myself. You are an Allahdād opportunity.”
“I notice you’re breathless and excited. How about some juice, or even some drink if you prefer?”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“That’s what I thought.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for it.”
“It’s alright. Go ahead and enjoy. What’s the problem anyway?”
Now, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was herself wet too.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had pushed her extremely beautiful glorious gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my male Hindu lap and was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Cock entirely vanished into her eagerly responsive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal depths.
“Go ahead. Nothing to worry. Tell me everything. Dump it to me and forget it.”*
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
“Well, you know, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī and I started the Ruqayyah Fātimah Flower Shops. That was before Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī was married. We each had half of the stock except a small block of five shares. We gave it to Nafīsah Salmān Ammī. I’ve always liked her. Nafīsah Salmān Ammī is rather naïve. But her shrewd daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan full of endless tact now has managed to pick up the five shares of stock that we had given to Nafīsah Salmān Ammī.”
“And you think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wants to pry in your business?”
“I thought so at the time.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said bitterly, “When your JetMusalmān Beauties Queen, your utmost dearest Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the entirely shameless nudist feminist, the new everfirst President of Saůūdī Årab, handed over the stock for transfer, she joked about being a silent partner. But I think there’s something far more sinister back of it.”
I kissed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah passionately, pulled my Uncut Hindu Cock out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, till only its head remained inside between her ravenous quivering labial lips, squeezed her boobs and then thrust my Uncut Hindu Cock all the way inside wildly.
She jumped on her back enjoying the miraculous Hindu sex kicks very much.
Her legs were on my nude Hindu shoulders and I was on top of her between her beautiful legs.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled her indebtedness to me, thanking me with her extremely beautiful eyes.
She kissed me passionately responding my loving Hindu attacks.
“She is very dangerous, Durgesh.”
“Not to my women.”
“Okay, relax now. Forget her. Leave Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan to me. I’d tell her not to interfere with you anymore.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah made a little gesture.
It was more expressive than words.
“The bastard manages my sister’s money.”
“Not any more, dear.”
“He doesn’t need to.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said bitterly.
“What do you mean?”
“I think Muħammad Ůsmān isn’t a fool enough to wait indefinitely. As soon as her plan to kill Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī, in that accident, backfired he went to his other alternative. He has already done he wanted to do. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī, in my opinion, has already lost her stock.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah watched me apprehensively.
“What do you want to say, Durgesh? I should forget he staged that accident? Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī would have died in it if her subconscious mind hadn’t received my warnings and acted accordingly.”
“That’s right. But we haven’t any evidence that it had been staged by Muħammad Ůsmān.”
“Do you want to say that he is innocent?”
“No, certainly not. We haven’t any evidence either that he is innocent even.”
“We must be cautious. Yet, we must not forget that even Muħammad Ůsmān maybe innocent.”
“I don’t think so.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly.
“Now she is.”
“Now.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said bitterly. “Muħammad Ůsmān is himself not a damnfool. He still flatters Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī and complains that we have punished him unjustifiably. We haven’t given him even any benefit of doubt.”
“Well, I myself told you so when you both the sisters were adamant to cuckold him.”
“Now, think, if Muħammad Ůsmān turns out innocent, how would we face him?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed ironically.
“I appreciate his daring and patience, however.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even now, when we’ve cuckolded him, Muħammad Ůsmān acts righteous. He says Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’ movement has blinded us both more than even you are. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is your living sex goddess, yet you still don’t support Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan blindly. You still give Musalmīn the benefit of doubt that most of us Musalmān Beauties even don’t.”
“I agree with him.”
“Nonsense! Muħammad Ůsmān understands the attentions women crave. You know how it is with a Musalmān when his Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife has money, as Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī has. It isn’t a shame for Musalmīn they learn it eagerly.”
“And that solves our problem?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled ironically.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not yet.” I smiled impishly.
“Ouch! What are you doing?” I moaned.
“Stop acting impish when you fuck me.”
“Are you really sixty three?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I kidnapped you, you were only thirty one and I was twenty eight.”
“I contradicted you even then.”
“I have checked your entire electoral record, income tax record, sale tax record etcetera. You were born on 2nd February 1979.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has managed to change my entire papers everywhere.”
“No one believes you. You lack to provide optimum evidence for it.”
“What do you want to say, I’m thirty three only?”
“That’s what your every record in India proves, and even your record elsewhere.”
“Ask Kħadījah Muħammad when she raped me.”
“Isn’t she crazy for you enough, to vouch for everything you say?”
“Well?” I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah tartly.
I gritted my teeth.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed.
“Only because I’m thirty?”
“I’ve told you the other activities from you already, haven’t I?”
She winked at me.
“I would have cheerfully if Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were not using it for her political purposes.”
“I don’t believe you. Peruse what Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors write on faith freedom.org. When you prove them wrong we Musalmān Beauties would accept the Pseudo Musalmīn are not punishable by ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’ movement of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Never before it. Muħammad Ůsmān isn’t a moderate Musalmān because, there doesn’t exist any moderate Musalmān.”
“According to Dr. Ali Sina.”
“According to facts, damn it. Don’t tell me now that you Hindus are now tired of us Musalmān Beauties. I can’t believe even you Hindus are now afraid of Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, Criminals/ Criminal Minded persons.”
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Al Sāliħah Al Rashīd was also proud of her daughter, Lily Turner.
Yet, due to my Svarūpé Avasthānam, none of us looked aged.
Lily Turner still looked anywhere in her late thirties.
Actually, she was sixty-two now, on the brim of completing her sixty-three even.
“The bastard.” She said.
I smiled fucking her more passionately,
“No. He says there are certain female shareholders who don’t want to come in the open, supporting Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. Imām Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t have their addresses. They are kept secret.”
“And Shaguftah Rashīd is one of them?”
“And Shaguftah Rashīd is one of them.”
“Maybe he is really not entrusted. Yet, it sounds goofy to me.”
“Anyway, that’s his story.”
The door from the manager’s apartment opened.
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan, wearing a housedress, came toward us.
Her face had been given a generous application of rouge somewhat evenly applied.
She smiled at us,
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan turned toward the door.
We followed her gaze.
Through the plate glass, we saw a slim waisted young man run up the porch stairs, and jab a key into the lock of the door.
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan had time to say, before the door opened,
“This is Iqbāl Rashīd now.”
We waited until Iqbāl Rashīd was well on his way toward the elevator.
I noticed his half running pace and the excited tension that seemed to grip him.
“Putting out a fire?”
Iqbāl Rashīd apparently saw us for the first time.
He jerked to a standing stop, and stared.
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan said, ingratiatingly,
“Iqbāl Rashīd, this is…”
She stepped forward and jerked back the lapel of her coat so that Iqbāl Rashīd could see her badge and stars.
Iqbāl Rashīd’s reaction to it was instantaneous.
He half turned back toward the big plate glass door as if about to run.
His face was white.
She watched Iqbāl Rashīd’s countenance.
It began to twitch.
Realizing he was trapped, Iqbāl Rashīd took a deep breath.
Even I could see his hands clenching into fists.
“Well,” he asked, “what is it?”
I also studied Iqbāl Rashīd.
He was a small boned slim hipped man.
His coat was heavily padded at the shoulders.
The even tan of his face indicated that he habitually went without a hat and was much in the open.
His hair, black and glossy, waved back from his forehead with a rippling regularity that suggested the touch of a professional hairdresser.
His height was medium and he didn’t weigh much more than a hundred and thirty pounds.
“What’s the hurry?”
“I wanted to get to bed.” Iqbāl Rashīd controlled himself surprisingly.
She reassured me similarly without using even a single word.
Iqbāl Rashīd managed to smile sophisticatedly.
He didn’t comment.
“Sure, ma’am. Whatever I can help the law.”
“Shaguftah Rashīd is your sister?”
“We’re trying to locate her. We got a lead to you.”
“Well, Shaguftah Bājī doesn’t live with me.”
“Where does she live?”
“She has her own residence, Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments.”
“I see. Your Bājī is that Shaguftah Rashīd?”
“When did you see her last?”
“Last? Why? Is there something abnormal, officer?”
“Don’t try to question me, young chap. Just answer me. When did you see her last?”
“A week ago? An hour ago?” I too asked.
“Oh, probably yesterday sometime. She’s at the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. I too am manager there.”
“Yes, ma’am. Is there anything wrong?”
“Not that the police know of. Yet, there are so many Musalmīn that think the name of the club is disgraceful to them. Don’t you yourself think so?”
“The Musalmīn that think so, don’t know the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club is actually owned by internationally renowned and well established zillionaires, trillionaires, billionaires and at least multi-millionaires Musalmān Beauties. The Hindus have a too much negligible shareholding in the club. So even if it is a disgrace to the Musalmīn, the Hindus are not responsible for it. The internationally capable, accomplished, talented, proficient, skilled, gifted, adept, skillful, clever, and influential, powerful Musalmān Beauties are accountable for it. Most of them are feminist nudists. They don’t think the name of the club is disgraceful to them. Instead, they think it’s disgraceful to the Hindus, not to Musalmīn. ”
“What? Disgraceful to the Hindus? How?”
“Ask them, the owners of the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club I mean.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You deserve to be a manager there. Quite efficient. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“That’s right ma’am.” Iqbāl Rashīd said good-naturedly.
After nodding good morning to several National Security officers, Lily Turner hastened up a narrow flight of stairs to the office of Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House.
The office was two doors down from the President’s Oval Office.
Inside, three of Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf’s aides, informally attired, were lounging about discussing the contents of a speech President of USA, Jimmy Carter, would soon deliver on cuts in domestic spending.
Were the rumors true?
Is Durgesh really capable to replace anyone after his so-called Svarūpé Avasthānam?
How is it possible?
How a person can has his two bodies so drastically different in almost everything?
Wasn’t Karl Marx right when he said that Religion is opium of people?
But it doesn’t mean that everything whatsoever the Soviet Union believes in is wrong.
Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf dismissed the aides, postponing the conference on speech for later in the day.
Hell, Durgesh is actually representing not only India now.
Yes, Durgesh doesn’t say so in so many words.
But it may fool only the morons, not Lily Turner.
She had known Evelyn Carter a long time.
She knew she was extremely beautiful.
So did her intellect and her ability at organization.
Evelyn Carter appeared to be only half listening.
I was the male partner, and officially that was the reason I was there.
Lily Turner was neither sure nor actually, she was interested.
What the hell difference does it make?
Evelyn Carter was impatient somewhat.
“Look, Lily Turner, let’s go to Ved Nagar and Durgesh’s so called damn (Shanno Mitrah!) Svarūpé Avasthānam later. Do I have to hear it all twice? Let’s go over it at the cabinet meeting. Then it’ll be fresh in my mind when I settle down to lunch with Durgesh.”
Evelyn Carter laughed.
“We have four years now for it, dearie, haven’t we?”
“Ouch!” Evelyn Carter jumped up, “what are you doing?”
“Trying to make you listen to me, you moron.”
Evelyn Carter winked at her.
“I’m dying to watch Durgesh fucking us Christian Beauties.”
“Damn you! How do you know?”
When Lily Turner returned to her quarters, annoyed at her failure to get anywhere with Evelyn Carter, she considered phoning Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, and Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House, to pick up on the speech about cuts in domestic spending.*
The Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments was a little walk up.
There was no answer at Shaguftah Rashīd bell.
She ordered her to follow us up to the apartment with a passkey.
We climbed two flights of stairs, as the elevator wasn’t in working order temporarily then.
All the three of us, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl I and the beautiful manager of Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments, walked down a narrow, yet heavily carpeted corridor, fragrant with wonderfully pleasant aroma and the lighted emanations that fill an excellent ventilated place where people were sleeping.
It was noticeable that the immigrant apartment owners were providing more facilities to their tenants and customers in Ved Nagar than even the original residents.
They had to.
They had to win the tenants and customers from the original residents.
It had started a healthy competition between the immigrant apartment owners and the original residents of Ved Nagar in providing more and more facilities to their tenants and customers.
My administration there was encouraging it more and more.
It was impartial.
We wanted to encourage immigration.
Shaguftah Rashīd’s apartment was in the middle.
A light showed over the transom.
There wasn’t any answer.
She nodded to the beautiful manager.
“Okay. Open it up.”*
The beautiful manager of Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments hesitated a moment, then looked at me.
The door had Eīshān Vaigyānic lock.
While it was locked from inside it needed the Eīshān Vaigyānic rays emanating either from Shaguftah Rashīd’s own Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt or from the Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt of the beautiful manager.
Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk sucked me and as soon as it was ready enough to fuck her, I nodded her to go into rukū.
It was her first time with me.
Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk felt immensely honored.
Even then, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk whispered.
“Please honor my femininity by coming into me.”
I obliged her.*
The door clicked back.
The figure of a blond woman dressed in a tweed skirt and jacket stockings and rubber soled gold shoes, lay sprawled near the door.
The telephone had been knocked from a small spindly-legged stand to the floor.
A box of the chocolate creams was open on the table, and some wrapping paper.
It was evident that in the wrapping paper the chocolate box had been tied folded itself neatly around the edges of the box.
The cover lay slightly to one side.
On the cover, there was a chocolate smudged card.
‘These will make you feel better.’
The card was signed with the initials ‘FMA’.
The chocolates were cradled in little paper cups.
A blank space in the upper tray furnished the sole clue as to the number that had been eaten.
I made a swift survey.
I estimated that eight or ten were missing from the top layer of the box.
The lower layer seemed untouched.
“You must be a highly qualified doctor to qualify for being a manager here in Eīshān Vaigyānic areas. Are you?”
“Sure.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk immediately was all-alert.
“I’m going downstairs. I’ve to call Inspector Pratāp at headquarters. I’ve to tell him I’ve found Shaguftah Rashīd and the candy. It’s evident that she’s been poisoned. I’ve to order Inspector Pratāp to rush out the fingerprint staff and an ambulance.”
“We may need your decisions as a competent police officer for what to do in certain medical turn outs while checking her.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk protested, “Why don’t you use your mobile here to instruct your staff necessarily?”
“I may have to instruct my staff clandestinely.”
“That can wait. Your presence here is far more necessary. It can’t wait.”
I started to harden once more.
I looked at Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.
“Sure. That’s right.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk confirmed.
“What if it were a man?”
“The men need different sort of first aid in Eīshān Vigyān.”
Shaguftah Rashīd’s face was slightly congested.
Her breathing was slow and seemed labored.
The skin was surprisingly cold to the touch.
“Looks more like a drug than an active poison.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said, “I think if you fuck her immediately perhaps we can bring her out of it without any more medical help.”
There was a legal question in my eyes.
“Nonsense. She is unconscious. She may hate me for what you both tell me to do with her.”*
Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said curtly.
“You didn’t hesitate when you’d to fuck me.”
“Well, she has spread her legs. Perhaps even in her unconsciousness she is inviting you to go ahead and fuck her.”
“Is she married?” I asked Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.
“Yes. Why did you ask?”
Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk laughed bitterly.
“How do you know it wasn’t her husband that has drugged her to death? Musalmān Beauties don’t join Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club if they maintain healthy married life with their wretched Musalmān husbands.”
“Well,” I hesitated.
“Fuck her.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk shouted, “She is losing the temperature of her body. She has been drugged to die of coldness, I think.”
“Do you know her husband’s name?” I looked at Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.
“Fahīm Muħammad Åbbās.”
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It looked good.
Given its placement, the whip drew the eyes to the curves of her gorgeous Musalmān breasts and added more visual appeal to the beautiful young woman.
“What?” I couldn’t believe I’d heard her right.
“Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb, are you crazy?”
“Certainly not, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Instead, you are crazy who really believed I won’t fuck you.”
“Undress yourself and mount me.”
I hesitated somewhat.
“Don’t hesitate. Can’t you see? You’ve bound me on your bed. If I shout now, who wouldn’t believe that you are raping me?”
“I never thought you’d do it to me.”
The contrast of the black leather whip with the yellow-dominated pajama shirt also attracted my attention.
The result was that I gazed upon Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb’s chest for far longer than was needed, and once I realized what I was doing, I felt myself excited to have sex myself with this Just eighteen Just adult Musalmān Beauty.
I stood and turned away from her in an attempt to hide my discomfort.
“It’s okay,” I heard her say softly, “Come on, fuck me. You don’t need to be embarrassed at all.”
Sure of what she meant now, I turned to face her again, even though I could still feel the heat of my lust for her.
“I don’t mind if you look at me, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” Muħammad Ålī’s Sister clarified smiling. “To be honest, I don’t mind if you even fuck me wildly. That’s what I really was after. Come on.”
Her expressive hazel eyes were full of truth and trust.
The truth was not a surprise, as the few times I could ever remember her lying to me was to protect a surprise she was preparing for me.
Yet the trust…
Her trust touched me deeply.
Her trust in me was the reason that she was bound to my bed at all, but the depth of her trust conveyed by her eyes…
Somehow, that trust gave me the strength I needed to reinvigorate my professionalism.
It was a bonding moment which transcended her physical bondage, one which I knew would cause her spirit to soar in that reaffirmation of the connection she and I had shared for more than twenty years.
Only then did I finally retrieve the movie camera and, put it at the foot of the bed, began to record the movie.
My Uncut Hindu Lund’s position was changed multiple times upon her chest and then later moved to her groin where it was also featured in multiple positions.
I lost track of time, my mind fully focused instead on the lighting, the camera position, occasionally giving her an instruction to create an even better pose for the movie camera.
And then, the camera set atop the dresser, I sat beside her on the bed again, retrieving my Uncut Hindu Lund and gently dangling its tip across her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Just eighteen Just adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb smiled at the gesture, and that emboldened me as I dragged my Uncut Hindu Lund down her neck, down her chest, and repeatedly brushed it gently and slowly back and forth across her gorgeous Musalmān breasts.
Her eyes fluttered closed as her head tipped back upon the pillow, her arms pulling against the tethered cuffs, her back arching noticeably, her lips parting.
What I was doing to her was clearly more and more arousing for her, and even though she was Muħammad Ålī’s Sister, I felt a sense of pride in being able to give her such a unique, kinky pleasure.
I couldn’t preach her not to do it.
She would’ve gone to someone else.
Wasn’t that more dangerous?
Wasn’t it better to do it myself?
The gentle brushing of her gorgeous Musalmān breasts did not last very long ― maybe thirty seconds at most ― but when I finally set my Uncut Hindu Lund beside her on the bed, Muħammad Ålī’s Sister whimpered sadly, sounding very much like a puppy who wanted to be fed but had no one available to open a bag of dog food.
Glancing back to her chest, I noticed a pair of small indentations pressing against the inside of her pajama shirt.
“I guess that really did feel good for you,” I said softly, smiling with amusement.
“Yeah…” Her voice was breathy, sultry, and almost intimate.
She finally opened her eyes and looked up at me again, the trust still prominent within her hazel orbs.
“Can we do a few more pictures?” she asked.
“Sure,” I replied. “What did you have in mind?”
She hesitated slightly, which was again a significant sign and made me wonder exactly what she had in mind.
“Would you unbutton me and do a few with your Uncut Hindu Lund across my naked chest?”
I definitely had not expected that request, not from Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb.
“Are you really sure you want me to fuck your…” I began, unable to complete the sentence as my mind attempted to reconcile her request with the deeply internalized norms of society.
“I’m sure,” she affirmed, adding a slow nod. “Just do titty-fuck me now, okay?”
Time seemed to again slow considerably as I leaned over her.
This time, I did not attempt to purposely avoid Muħammad Ålī’s Sister’s breasts.
Beginning with the top button, I slowly exposed her feminine parts to my eyes for the very first time, and when the unbuttoned pajama shirt was finally spread open to provide a full view of her uncovered breasts, I wasn’t even slightly embarrassed by the soft sound of admiration I heard escaping from my own lips.
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb blushed a little, but otherwise showed absolutely no reaction.
Her nipples were still hard little points, fleshy pink pebbles adorning her gorgeous Musalmān breasts.
To My amazement, she had only the faintest of tan lines indicating that she had ever worn a bra, which made me wonder if she was a regular user of tanning beds or if perhaps she took advantage of the tall fencing surrounding the tiny back yard of the house she shared with Taħsīn Jalāl Sheikħ to tan topless or even fully nude.
Once again, I became consciously aware of my own extreme arousal.
I was also consciously aware of how much I wanted to touch her in an intimate way.
Although my hands had done the actual deed, she had bared a significant area of her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body to me.
It was so very tempting to reach to her chest and gently squeeze a breast.
Fortunately, I felt society’s call, which caused me to turn my attention to my Uncut Hindu Lund instead.
Carefully, I placed my Uncut Hindu Lund diagonally across her chest, nestling it between her beautiful breasts, my hand inherently brushing against one of her swells and noting its warmth.
My eyes locked with hers, and she smiled slightly as if attempting to reassure me that she did not mind the contact from me, her older Durgesh darling, her Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, Musalmān ħasīnāon kā Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of the Musalmān Beauties!
I rose from the bed, retrieved the camera, and was once again at work.
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb looked so beautiful, so vulnerable, and so selfless.
And amazingly, she appeared to be completely at peace despite being bound to the bedposts with my Uncut Hindu Lund draped across her naked chest.
Then she kissed and licked it passionately.
It wasn’t easy not to blast premature.
I smiled and fucked her mouth enjoying now it very much.
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb sucked me for hours.
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb swallowed it all gratefully indebted to me.
Then she smiled at me.
“Thank you, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Now please untie me and fuck me wildly until I exist.”*
I fucked Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb in every position she requested me to fuck her.
Not on that day only.
It went on for complete one month nonstop.
She declared it was our honeymoon and she was my new Live in Relationship Partner now.
I granted her request.
I had to.
She was also a hyper sexual and perhaps only I was the suitable sex partner for her too.*
“We offered Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah a one o’clock appointment, thinking that might make her back out. She understood Kħadījah Muħammad and me both very well. She was the young adult Musalmān Beauty that herself raped me. She…”
I smiled myself somewhat proudly, somewhat impishly, somewhat incensed.
“Okay, Almighty, how many?”
She squeezed her lower lip strongly with her upper teeth to the extent that even some blood came out from her lower lip.
“Why are you asking?”
“How many? Don’t try to avoid the question as I won’t allow you to do so.”
“I can understand what you want to say.” I held her nude waist strongly, pulled out my Uncut Hindu Cock once again out of ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s still much younger Makkan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt until only its head was inside.
She squeezed her lower lip strongly once more, with her upper teeth to the extent that even some blood came out from her lower lip once again.
Then I was repeating my action again and again more and more ferociously.
“Sālī, yes, they are countless. So what?”
“My poor Durgesh darling, méré béchāré Hindu Piyā, poor Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké béchāré Hindu Kħasam, poor Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl teased me smiling.
“Shut up.” I said, “Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah grabbed at the appointment.”
“Contact her. Maybe she has found out something till now.”
“You are right.” I said.
I tried my mobile.
It showed the network busy.
There was a telephone too.
I was still behind her fucking her passionately now.
I called Kħadījah Muħammad.
“Hi, Kħadījah Muħammad, anything new, Mérī Jān?”
“Are you fucking someone?”
“Yes,” I smiled proudly, “How the hell did you know?”
“The ferocious sounds of your consummating sex with her, those of the ferocious sexual assaults and penetrations are clearly audible even here on the phone.”
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.
“Moderate your sexual assaults on her. Otherwise she would be incapable to assist you as a competent police officer. Your Uncut Hindu Prick is too strong to accommodate when you are in this mood.”
“You are right. Hell, everyone is right perhaps at present, except me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind. Is there anything new?”
“None, sorry. Haven’t been able to get a thing.” Kħadījah Muħammad said, “I find there are three branches of Ruqayyah Fātimah Flower Shops, each with a separate phone. I’ve been calling them in turn.”
“Would he really help us? You are fucking his entire Musalmān houseladies. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is his real daughter and she is fucking you openly in public places too. Imām Muħammad Ħasan might feel himself extremely humiliated.”
“Yaar, I don’t think Imām Muħammad Ħasan is such an idiot that he can’t differentiate between what I’m doing and what his real daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the ultramodern Kħātūn-e-Jannat razī Allāhu tålā ånhā, is. It’s Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan fucking me openly in public places. I’m not.”
“And if Imām Muħammad Ħasan refused to understand his daughter is actually a nudist feminist, then…”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we reach it. Why think negative prematurely?”
“You are right.”
“If you get an address, call police headquarters direct.”
“Ask for Inspector Pratāp.” I went on, “Tell him to rush some radio officers out to Shaguftah Rashīd’s apartment, and break in the door if they have to.”
I hung up.
Balancing herself on her knees and one of her elbows, she punched her mobile.
I looked down and saw something green under the table on which the telephone rested.
“Handkerchief?” I commented.
“Nope!” I snapped, “you gave it to me before studying it yourself optimum. There are three letters embroidered in it: FMA.”
“Let’s not jump on conclusions.”
“Okay. Imām Muħammad Ħasan came in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club just now, according to what the girl says. He may have been there some time. Protesting you, Imām Muħammad Ħasan might have decided not to bother with a call. I’m having her put Imām Muħammad Ħasan on… Hello, Imām Muħammad Ħasan. This is ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. I left word for you to call police headquarters. Why didn’t you do it? Not cooperating with the police?… Well, isn’t it funny that you just got there as I was telephoning?”
There was an interval.
During that the receiver made noises.
“Well,” She interrupted abruptly, “never mind all the explanations. I know, because your real daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is a nudist feminist, she deliberately uses to have sex with Durgesh, openly in public places, to humiliate you Pseudo Musalmīn. You feel humiliated. But Durgesh isn’t responsible for what your legally adult daughter does to humiliate you Pseudo Musalmīn.”
The receiver again made noises.
“I don’t let you interrupt my police investigation. Your matter with Durgesh and your nudist feminist daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan… She isn’t nudist feminist? Well, I don’t agree with you… Never mind, listen to me. I want to know where the hell Shaguftah Rashīd lives… Don’t threaten me with the high approach of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. I know despite all the vulgarity in its name, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club is a legal international organization. So what?”
The receiver made noises once more.
Then she said rather curtly.
“Shaguftah Rashīd must have a residence somewhere. She is one of the major shareholders of your internationally esteemed Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. You must have the addresses of your entire shareholders, major or minor. I want to get to Shaguftah Rashīd right away. What’s that? You are forgetting that you are talking with the ACP responsible for law and order here at Ved Nagar. Well, why the hell don’t you open the bloody safe immediately and look it up? Imām Muħammad Ħasan, I’m not pleased with your cooperation with us… Yes, please do that and inform me immediately. You may report it to the President of India himself. I don’t give a damn when I’m investigating something. Inform me first and then report my behavior to any highest authority you damn please. I won’t wait very much.”*
“The bloody scoundrel is covering up something now, I know. Imām Muħammad Ħasan was pouring explanations and apologies. That’s a sure sign. The bastard is so communal that he was trying to annoy even me with repeating the club’s dastardly name Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club more and more even unnecessarily to feel me humiliated myself. He was trying to impress me that the ever aggressive ever sullying Hindus and their ever horniest Musalmān Beauties have named the club such reprehensible.”
“I understand.” I said gravely, “That’s the reason the Pseudo Islamic Countries have named the club internationally deliberately. They want no Hindu Musalmīn itteħād, no Hindu Muslim Unity anywhere. This name is so humiliating to Musalmīn that even the utmost moderate Musalmīn feel most humiliated and start hating Hindus and their horniest Musalmān Beauties, who otherwise never bother even to give a damn thought to such undignified matters.”
“I think we are on the right track.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“The Western businesspersons are also donating these Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs.”
“Sure, why not?” I commented dryly, “What the hell else we can expect from the persons who divided India when they were kicked out from there, by then Hindu Muslim Unity? Of course they are patronizing these Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs internationally, providing them immense monetary support as well as legal support too.”
“Yes, hello. Isn’t Shaguftah Rashīd one of your major shareholders?… Well, where can you find out?… Imām Muħammad Ħasan, are you sure about that?… Don’t threat me you rascal. Do you want me to arrest you?… Yes,…yes,…Call President of USA, Jacqueline Lincoln, herself, to support you and your dastardly named ‘thoroughly legal’ Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. She sleeps with Durgesh. Do you understand, impotent?… Go ahead. Try to harm me as much as your entire anti humanity machinery can ever do…Now listen you scoundrel, this is important.”
“The impotent bastard is threatening me with the unconditional support of USA to Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club internationally.”
“Sure,” I said sharply, “why not? He wants you to arrest him so that they can make it an international issue. It would bring the name of the club internationally in headlines, disrupting Hindu Muslim Unity everywhere. Can’t you see? They are using the most ancient rotten policy of such immoral diplomats: ‘Divide and Rule’.”
“What should I do?”
“Don’t lose your mind. He is deliberately irritating you.”
“Yes, I think you are right.”
“Don’t arrest the impotent. He wants to get arrested. Try to act big hearted and ever forgiving.”
“Idiot, I’m not telling you to really forgive him. Play smarter since he is playing smart.”
Her most beautiful eyes widened as my point dawned on her.
“You…you are right. He is deliberately annoying me.”
“Now you understand the game. Play it smarter. Threaten him as much as you want to. But never arrest him. Never forget his Abbū, Imām Muħammad Yåqūb, is a senator now in USA.”
“You are responsible for law and order here in Ved Nagar. Aren’t you?”
“I don’t want a run around.” She said in the phone, “All right, all right, you haven’t any idea… Now, wait a minute. Does Shaguftah Rashīd have a social security number?… I see… Now listen, I may want to get you again. Don’t leave Ved Nagar without informing me personally. SMS me your personal mobile number so that I can call you whenever I damn please… Your Senator Abbū in USA can be made incapable to protect you if needed, my child. Don’t try to annoy your Ammījān ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. You would regret it.”*
The Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments were one of the most ultramodern Apartments of Ved Nagar.
The entire Ved Nagar was itself utmost ultramodern.
HVSI owned the most of Ved Nagar.
Even the government of India extended its capital activities to Ved Nagar to keep watch over the new extensions of the embassies of the governments of other countries in the world.
The India House at Ved Nagar was gradually becoming more and more important in global politics.
Everyone was suspecting HVSI was strategizing it all.
“Imām Sāħab,” Muħammad Ålī controlled himself from being excited, “Do you mean India has changed its capital actually?”
“Not expressly legally.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why is it so?”
“That’s the deep game India is playing and both China and USA are scratching their heads to understand why it’s so.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl pressed her thumb against the button opposite Iqbāl Rashīd’s name.
We were outside of a big glass door.
A part of the lobby could be seen through it.
“No luck?” I asked after several moments.
“No dice.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said, and pushed the button marked MANAGER.
At the third ring an indignant young woman pushed open the door of one of the lower apartments.
She was in nightgown, slippers and kimono.
She whistled seeing me with ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.
I was also surprised somewhat.
“Raziyah Najmul Ħasan?” I said inadvertently.
“You never told me you are the manager here.”
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan had come there shuffling across the lobby to the door.
“What is it?”
“Well, of all the nerve! There is the bell of the scoundrel. Isn’t there? Can’t you read his name? Go the hell there and ring it.”
This was Ved Nagar.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl knew very well only the most capable persons could afford to have any properly here.
She was used to this indignant behavior.
Muħammad Åbdullah had least need to bother.
“He doesn’t answer, ma’am.”
“Well, I’m not his keeper.”
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan started to slam the door.
“Take it easy, ma’am. We have to find him. It’s important.”
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan didn’t calm down.
“Only because you are wandering with HVSI Supremo, Durgesh, you think everyone should cooperate with you?”
She knew her responding indignation could make the situation even worse.
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan was right as far as her legal standing was concerned.
“I haven’t the faintest idea where the scoundrel is.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan stormed, “We’re running a respectable place here. And…”
“Sure you’re, ma’am.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said soothingly, “and you of course wouldn’t want to get in bad by refusing to cooperate with the police when they wanted a little something. The way things are now, the place has a nice reputation. We have you marked as a law abiding citizen even while you are originally from Pakistan.”
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan’s expression somewhat softened.
“What do you mean?”
“Just eighteen Just adult is a dangerous age, ma’am.”
“What’s dangerous in being Just eighteen Just adult? Weren’t you yourself once Just eighteen Just adult?”
“Yes, I was. But I wasn’t from Pakistan.”
“No. Saůūdī Årab and India haven’t fought any war against each other, as Pakistan and India have. Neither have we had any issue disputed between us as Pakistan and India have their ever disputed Kashmir issue.”
“Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan suddenly addressed me, “She is one of your infinite Musalmān Live in Relationship Partners?”
“Sorry, Raziyah Najmul Ħasan. It’s a police business. I’m with her on her official request. She is doing the talking.”
“Official request, my foot. Don’t try to teach me you are powerless before her. I won’t take it. You are the most powerful man on the globe now. Even the new President of USA, Jacqueline Lincoln, is your Live in Relationship Partner.”
“Well, that isn’t any secret. President of USA, Jacqueline Lincoln, has herself announced it ceremoniously. However that doesn’t mean President of USA, Jacqueline Lincoln, would surrender the interests of USA to India.”
“I didn’t say that. Come in.”
She knew how powerful the Najmul Ħasan sisters were becoming day by day.
They were still citizens of Pakistan, yet their business was spreading everywhere internationally.
Her problem was Ved Nagar was full of such VIP personalities.
And it was her duty to maintain law and order there.
I was shrewd enough to mastermind every event myself.
She could comparatively easily control the Pseudo Islamic Countries’ illegal activities keeping my support to her scrupulously behind.
She was confused who actually masterminded it.
Well, whoever masterminded it, she was not in detriment.
And that counted for her more.
Raziyah Najmul Ħasan was on the side of law and order.
It was enough for her.
All the Najmul Ħasan sisters were.
“Thank you.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan smiled now, “Only because I’m a citizen of Pakistan I can’t support the terrorists from my country. The Pseudo Islamic Countries are using them for their own vile inhuman interests. It’s against the best interests of Pakistan herself.”
“We appreciate your ideology, ma’am. We keep the places very well pegged. We know what goes on. We know whom we can depend on, and whom we can’t. Lots of times banks and mortgage companies that are looking for apartment house owners give us a ring and ask us what sort of a record the party had in the last job. You’d be surprised how careful the big people are to get owners who are friendly with the police.”
“Well, I can understand that.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan cooed.
The hostility had left her ever melodious voice.
She was a great fan of Kishore Kumar and Suraiyā.
Her voice had a very close similarity to Suraiyā Jamal Sheikħ, the veteran actress and singer of Bollywood.
When Raziyah Najmul Ħasan sang the songs of Suraiyā Jamal Sheikħ, the veteran actress and singer of Bollywood, it was difficult for even me to differentiate it from the original song.
“How can I help you except telling you the whereabouts of Iqbāl Rashīd? I was never interested in the fellow.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan tried to be even hospitable now.
“Well, Raziyah Najmul Ħasan,” I told her now, “ACP Suraiyā Jamāl would appreciate if you can tell anything worthwhile about Iqbāl Rashīd. Not about his habits, but where we can locate him. Do you know anything about him, who his friends are, or anything of that sort?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t, Durgesh. Normally we educated Musalmān Beauties hate Musalmīn. Their drastic incompetence sends us to you Hindus. Of course we want to be loyal to Ummat-e-Muslimah, but the extreme incompetence of the Musalmān scoundrels never allow us to be as loyal to our faith as we want to be.”
“I can understand that, Raziyah Najmul Ħasan.”
“Thank you. The only thing I’ve noticed about Iqbāl Rashīd is, I suspect he is a gay.”
“What’s there to be surprised of?” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan retorted curtly and with intense abhorrence, “most of the Musalmīn are turning bisexual and gay nowadays. Iqbāl Rashīd is also one of them. One more reason for me to hate the blot on mankind.”
I smiled disapprovingly.
“I don’t think so.”
“Most of them are uneducated/under educated. Aren’t they?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean…”
“It doesn’t mean hell. They are bisexuals and gay. So many of my married Musalmān girlfriends tell me about their own Musalmān husbands that they are bisexual and gay.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan was furious, “the scoundrels. They are blots on Islam.”
“Your Musalmān girlfriends can’t lie?”
“For justifying their own infidelity with me/other Hindus.”
“Iqbāl Rashīd is a quiet chap.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan smiled at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl thanking her with her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Pakistani Sunni Musalmān eyes, “yet even then he is popular somewhat. There are quite a few people come to call on him.”
“Men or women?”
“Women are not as stupid as you think they are.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan retorted.
“I see. So the men come to meet him?”
“To fuck him in his ass.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan spit in the dustbin.
I controlled myself.
Both of them hated Musalmīn very much.
It would be futile to argue with those feminists.
For their every problem only the Musalmīn were responsible in their eyes.
They were not.
“Well, even though I hated him; I never bothered with him or anyone of my tenants. As long as they are quiet I never bother them.”
“No, I don’t. Once she tried to contact with me but I was so against her younger brother that I refused even to meet her. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said, “We’ve to get Iqbāl Rashīd anyway as soon as he comes in. Would you mind dressing and waiting in the lobby until you see him come in? Then call police headquarters, ask for ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. That’s me. If I’m not in, ask for Inspector Pratāp on the line and he’ll tell you what to do.”
“No problem.” Raziyah Najmul Ħasan smiled cooperating. “I’ll be glad to. It’ll take me a minute only.”
Gathering her robe about her, Raziyah Najmul Ħasan shuffled rapidly across the lobby to vanish through the door to her bedroom.
“Tell me something about the case, Durgesh.”
“You said some Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had an appointment with you?”
“Yes. It’s a civil case however.” I let myself enjoy her now expert sucking of my Hindu Prick.
When she wasn’t an ACP, and she sucked me first time, she wasn’t as expert as she was now.
He hated oral sex.
It was a sin to him.
But cleaning the cunt and even the ass of his extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies wasn’t any sin to him, with his tongue.
Most of the Musalmīn had this shortcoming causing their bisexuality and gayness.
Yet, they never even acknowledged it.
“I can’t give you details without Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s consent. Yet, I’ll say this much.” I smiled at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl being sucked by her passionately, “Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah owns Ruqayyah Fātimah Flower Shops. She rang up me and made an appointment with me for one o’clock.”
I held her hand, made her to stand up, undressed her and made her to bow in rukū.
Then I placed my extremely hardened Uncut Hindu Prick between her labial lips and pushed.
“Not afternoon, no, morning.” I answered her fucking her more and more wildly, “First, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah called for an appointment at one thirty in the morning. Then she rang up again, very much excited. She said she simply had to see me sometime tonight. I was working on a brief. Kħadījah Muħammad told her I wouldn’t be finished before sometime after midnight.”
“Kħadījah Muħammad certainly never misses a chance to win your heart. She knows very well how to keep you happy.”
“Why the hell Kħadījah Muħammad called her after midnight?”
“You have a point there.”
It went deepest entirely into her Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, came out until only its head was inside, then again vanished completely penetrating her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt deepest.*
I felt so content that my mind inadvertently went to the past:
I had just come home when the main phone rang.
Reluctantly, I went to check the Caller ID screen.
Had it been anyone but someone from Muħammad Ålī’s family, I would have ignored the phone.
I needed a much-needed late dinner.
The hell with everything else.
Instead, seeing that Muħammad Ålī’s little Sister Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb was calling, I answered the phone.
“Hey, Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb!”
“Hey yourself, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!! I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Sālī,” I smiled, “I’m not your Hindu Piyā. I’m Hindu Piyā of your Ammījān actually.”
“How do you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“Only because you fuck my Ammījān, why can’t you fuck me too?”
“You must be crazy.”
“I know you are attempting to fuck my Bhābhījān, Suraiyā Jamāl, too.”
“Hey, Just eighteen Just adult, stop this nonsense. Will you?”
“Fuck me and get my Bhābhījān, Suraiyā Jamāl, in bonus from me.”
“You mean you’d help me in fucking your Bhābhījān, Suraiyā Jamāl, if I fuck you first.”
“Nonsense, wait and you might hear some noise as our cook goes into the kitchen and make dinner.”
“Ouch, rather late for dinner. Evening photo shoot today?”
“Yeah.” I was thankful for the cordless phone as I made my way through the living room toward the kitchen. “The third straight evening of Little League photos. I need to do the final set tomorrow, and then spend the weekend and probably early next week getting all the initial proofs done for all the teams.”
“I see. Actually, that’s a good segue for what I wanted to ask you about…”
“Oh? You need some special photos done?”
“Well…” Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb was not someone to hesitate, so this particular pause caught my attention. “These are definitely special pictures I need.”
“Okay. Something more elaborate than a passport photo, I suppose.”
I started rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, looking for something I could make relatively quickly since I was nearly starving. “Anything in particular?”
Again, Muħammad Ålī’s little Sister hesitated, and I stopped looking through the cupboards. “Uh… Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb?”
“It’s… Well, I want some special pictures for your birthday.”
That narrowed things down considerably. “Okay. In the studio? Outdoors somewhere, maybe over by Kħātūn-e-Jannat Lake? Some romantic location you have in mind?”
That response stopped my heart for a moment, for it was the first time that I had ever truly thought of Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb as being potentially sexual, never mind being potentially kinky. “Um, I can do that, I guess,” I responded, “but bondage is a bit out of My realm…”
I thought I heard a sigh of relief from Muħammad Ålī’s Sister. “I’m not looking for anything strict,” she said. “I’m not planning on thick heavy chains and being suspended upside-down from the ceiling with various sex toys sticking out of me. Just some bedroom bondage pictures, that’s all.”
I had seen some bondage photos on several occasions.
A few times, they were professionally-made images, with professional models restrained in different poses which I just knew would take years of training to hold for any length of time so the pictures could be taken.
And, of course, there were plenty of amateur bondage images available on the Internet, most of them being of very poor quality and featuring women in various stages of undress who were tied down with whatever was available, which was typically not the stereotypical cuffs and chains.
But while I had seen such things in the past, I had never paid much attention to them.
Clearly, that would need to change.
It was the entertainment of the persons whose evolution process had evolved them physically to a human being but not mentally.
Hinduism had provided the Sapt Maryādās, the Seven Minimum Practices, to complete this process.
“Well, I can do that,” I finally offered, “but I don’t have anything even remotely close to standard bondage equipment around here. The best I could do would be to borrow a collar from a neighbor’s dog and put that on you.”
While I had not intended that to be a joke, I was nonetheless relieved when I heard Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb’s giggle. “That’s really not what I had in mind, especially not if the dog has fleas.”
She had a good point, especially since I had noticed the neighbor’s dog scratching himself behind the ears that morning.
“Can we do this when I come to visit at the end of the semester?” Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb asked.
“Sure,” I replied. “The other option would be for me to come, see you and do it there, but I’m guessing that might ruin the surprise aspect of things.”
“Yeah… Thanks, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! And I do have two requests about the pictures themselves.”
“The ones I finally choose need to be done as five-by-sevens so I can frame them, and whatever work product I do not keep gets destroyed.”
That made sense, given the sensitive nature of what she wanted to do in front of a camera. “I’m fine with that.”
“Good!” Her sigh of relief was unmistakable. “You should be home soon, so I’d better hang up here. I’ll see you in a few weeks, okay?”
“Okay, Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb.”
“And no pizza!”
She was giggling just before she ended the call.*
For the next few weeks, I spent a little time each day looking online for bondage images.
I was amazed at the work professional BDSM photographers were doing.
Yet, strangely enough, the professional sex therapist in me began to gradually and continuously lose ground to the stereotypical male in me, replacing the faces of the Musalmān Beauties in the images with Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb’s face.
That was a little disturbing.
It became even more disturbing to me when I began to fantasize about what might happen while Muħammad Ålī’s Sister was posing for me.
At first, those fantasies had her fully clothed, the way I had always seen her, but soon those fantasies involved less clothing, then less clothing, then she was topless, and then she wore nothing but earrings and a necklace as she was tied by scarves to the bedposts.
And then there was the dream in which she was blindfolded by an old bandana, with a rope connecting each wrist to either end of the headboard of my bed.
In the dream, I could not remain professional sex therapist any longer and began to undress her, and she did not protest when I finally entered her, thrusting as deep into her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body as I possibly could…
…and awakening with quite a mess on My stomach and a rather hot face.*
Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb’s voice was as sweet and bubbly as ever.
“Well, yes and no. I’m glad that your semester’s done, especially after that philosophy exam yesterday, but it’s somewhat boring here since your extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends are still in University.”
“Yeah, that’s the down side to a University that ends earlier than most.” I hadn’t attended the same University, even then I understood Muħammad Ålī’s little Sister’s lament all too well. “But at least that gives you the jump on summer jobs.”
“I already have one, thank goodness! I’ll be babysitting Patty’s kids Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, then driving back to campus and spending the weekends with you.”
“I see. What does Your Abbū, Imām Muħammad Yåqūb, think of that plan? For the weekends, I mean.”
“Ugh. He’s not too thrilled, but he never has been happy with you, you know.”
“Because his extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies fuck me?”
“Because you fuck my Abbū, Imām Muħammad Yåqūb’s extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies.”
“Sālī, you are proposing to me that I fuck you, not I.”
“But you are trying to fuck my Bhābhījān, Suraiyā Jamal. She isn’t trying to fuck you.”
“You don’t know anything behind the curtains, Just eighteen Just adult.”
Ghausiyah Imām Muħammad Yåqūb was excited suddenly.
“What do you mean? My Bhābhījān, Suraiyā Jamal, is also trying to fuck you?”
“Nonsense, Just eighteen Just adult, you are still a child. You need to learn more about human nature, human behavior and human psychology. Moreover you lack experiences too drastically.”*
In a way, I could understand.
Two University-age Musalmān Beauties living together was one thing.
Two University-age Musalmān Beauties living together while being romantically involved was something slightly different.
I had no issues with Muħammad Ålī’s Sister being a lesbian, but I did fear that if the wrong person found out about her sexual orientation, life could suddenly become really difficult for her and for Taħsīn Jalāl Sheikħ.
It was hard enough for her having a father who was so far right that Pat Buchanan looks like a Democrat, and with that type of mindset, her sexual orientation definitely rubbed him the wrong way.
To that extent, perhaps it was a good thing for her to be gone on the weekends, when he was more likely to be home and yet again give her a piece of his mind concerning her choice of sexual partners.
“Well, for what it’s worth,” I offered, “when you’re here this weekend, you won’t need to worry about his lectures.”
“Thank goodness. By the way, my plane should be landing about 6PM.”
“That’s fine. I’ll meet you at the baggage claim area. Just be sure to e-mail or text me your flight number and airline so I know which carousel to go to, so I can find you.”
“Okay. And can I make a request?”
“Dinner’s on me. It’s the least I can do for the pictures for Taħsīn Jalāl Sheikħ.”
I smiled to myself.
“Okay, Ghausiyah Imām, Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb. If you insist, I mean”*
She definitely insisted.
Red Lobster was not what I had expected for dinner just after leaving the airport, but that was what Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb wanted, and she was true to her word, stopping me when I attempted to pay the bill.
As we drove from the restaurant to the house, that was when I finally asked The Question:
“When do you want to do the photo shoot?”
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb smiled nervously.
“I was hoping we could do the shoot tonight,” she answered, “so that you could develop the pictures tomorrow and I can take them with me after we’ve destroyed whatever I don’t want.”
It was a good thing that I did not have anything planned for Saturday,
“I guess that works for me,” I told her as I turned onto my street.
That was when I had a sudden vision of her:
Muħammad Ålī’s little Sister, naked, wearing a collar and a big pink ball gag, drooling on herself as she knelt at the center of the bed, ropes wrapped around her chest and breasts as if forming a harness, a pair of chains connecting the collar with each of her wrist cuffs while she fucked herself with my Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Um, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!?”
“Yeah?” Only then did I realize why she had interrupted the vision: I had just driven past my own house.
“Um, sorry,” I apologized lamely, slowing the car so I could use someone else’s driveway to turn around.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Thinking of the shoot?”
“Well, yeah. It’s… odd for me, you know? I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Neither have I,” Muħammad Ålī’s Sister said as I pulled into a driveway and then shifted to Reverse. “But to be honest, you’re the only one I’d trust with anything like this.”
I backed onto the street before I responded.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Seriously. I know you won’t take advantage of the situation. If nothing else, I know you won’t violate my relationship with Taħsīn Jalāl Sheikħ.”
“Yeah, well… First I need to get us to the right house!”
Fortunately, she giggled, taking the edge off the seriousness of the conversation.*
It was well after sunset when, as we sat on the back porch listening to the loud music from a party a few houses away, I finally turned to Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb and simply asked:
Muħammad Ålī’s little Sister knew exactly what I meant.
“I’ll need a few minutes,” she said.
“That’s fine. I’ll need to get the lights and the camera.”
While Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb was in the small guest bedroom, I trudged the equipment from the basement to my bedroom, setting up the lights and taking a few test shots of the bed.
After all the thoughts which had passed through my head in the previous few weeks since she had initially asked about doing this for her, it was almost too easy to imagine Muħammad Ålī’s Sister on the bed, tethered cuffs securing her wrists to the ends of the black metal headboard, a crimson thong providing minimal modesty as her somewhat-embarrassed blush attempted to match the lone garment she was wearing.
I sensed more than heard Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb behind me, entering the bedroom, and I turned toward her, finding her dressed for bed.
The yellow floral print pajama set was one I had never seen, but it looked nice on her.
She was even wearing cream-colored slippers, which was almost useless since she would be out of her slippers in a few moments so she could mount the bed.
Muħammad Ålī’s Sister, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s one of so many Nanads, sisters in law, also carried a small black bag, similar to a bag received at a store, but the lack of a logo made me particularly curious about what was inside. I had what I felt was a good guess, given the nature of the photo shoot, but I knew it was best to wait until Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb was ready to reveal the bag’s contents.
“I didn’t know you’d need these lights for this,” she said.
I had set up two lights in the bedroom, one near each end of the foot of the bed.
“These will help minimize the shadowing,” I informed her, “plus it would be relatively dark in here without them since there’s no natural daylight coming through the windows and the bedroom ceiling light is purposely not very bright.”
“Good point.” She had visited several times previously and was familiar with the darkness of the bedroom at night, even with the main light turned on. “Here,” she said, offering me the black bag.
I accepted the bag from her.
“What’s in here?” I asked.
“The cuffs,” she replied, “and also a whip.”
That surprised me.
“You… you also want me to whip you?”
She smiled as she shook her head.
“No, although I do want to try being whipped, but I’m saving that for Taħsīn Jalāl Sheikħ.”
“You actually… You really want someone to hurt you?”
“She does already, at least a little. She really enjoys biting me, especially my breasts, and the way she pulls my hair…”
There was a significant moment of discomfort as we both realized that we were talking about sexual matters ― specifically, a mature Hindu old enough to be her father, her real Ammī’s Live in Relationship Partner, and a Just eighteen Just adult Musalmān Beauty, were discussing sexual matters.
“So part of the idea of the photo shoot,” I offered, attempting to dispel the awkwardness of the moment, “is that you want to essentially ‘announce’ to Taħsīn Jalāl Sheikħ that you want her to hurt you even more. Is that right?”
She nodded. “Yeah. That’s part of it. Plus, I just wanted to give her something different for her birthday, something unique, something that’s certain to get her attention and something that she’ll definitely enjoy again and again. I think this is something unique enough, and it also sends her a message.”
“And what about the pajamas? Does what you’re wearing send a message?”
“Not really. She just enjoys unbuttoning my shirts and blouses and slowly revealing me, and I love it when she does it.”
I shook my head, both out of disbelief that I was having such a conversation with Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb and also to dispel the new inappropriate image of her which had formed in my mind.
“So how do you envision this photo shoot playing out?”
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb moved to sit on the edge of the bed, slipping off her slippers.
“Well, I was thinking of having my arms and legs tied to the bedposts, with the whip balanced across my chest, or maybe leaning against me right…”
“‘Right…?'” I prompted.
“Um… Right between my legs.”
“Ah.” In My search for bondage images, I had come across a few pussywhipping videos, and I figured that that was what Muħammad Ålī’s Sister wanted to suggest with a whip placed so strategically.
“This is awkward,” she said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “but I’m glad we’re doing this, actually.”
“Really?” She had an expression of mild surprise on her sweet face.
“Really. Like I said before, I’ve never done any bondage photography before. This definitely isn’t going to be on par with some of the professionally-done images I’ve seen online, but this will probably give me a few things to think about as I continue in my photography. Who knows… Maybe this will be the catalyst to get me into a new area of photography.”
Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb giggled to herself.
“It would be really, really weird if I was responsible for my Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties’ kinky fucking business!”
In the odd silence which followed, I finally reached into the bag and produced four tethered cuffs.
They were all black, with Velcro closures and a fake fur lining for comfort.
At first, I was a little surprised that two of the cuffs were slightly larger than the others, but then I realized that the larger cuffs were apparently meant for the ankles and the smaller cuffs were meant for the wrists.
The tethers were fairly long, giving me plenty of opportunity to provide Muħammad Ålī’s Sister with adequate slack while still being able to tie the tethers securely.
And then there was the whip itself.
I had also seen several whips in my online review of BDSM photography.
The black whip she had selected had a relatively short handle, and maybe ten or so thin leather strips at the “business” end.
I gave it a few test swings, impressed by the sound those leather strips made as they flowed through the air.
“That sounds a little scary,” Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb commented.
“Really? I don’t think so.” It did not sound scary at all to me, just very intriguing.
“That’s probably because you’re not the one who’d be getting hit with it!”
“Touché.” I set the whip on the bed, next to the tethered cuffs. “Well, I guess we’d better start, or else we won’t finish until sometime tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
The binding process seemed to take a long time, as if we had suddenly entered into a slower point in the space-time continuum.
I remember watching Muħammad Ålī’s Sister crawling to the center of the bed and positioning herself with her arms and her legs spread toward the bedposts.
I remember languidly moving around the bed and applying each cuff, being careful to ensure the proper closure of the Velcro straps, and then taking a very long time to tie each tether at multiple points along each bedpost.
I definitely remember standing at the foot of the bed, admiring my handiwork, and particularly taking note of how Muħammad Ålī’s little Sister’s breasts seemed to rise and fall with her breathing as she tentatively tugged at her restraints, testing her bondage and discovering that I had given her very little slack.
And in that moment, as I saw Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb bound to my bed, I recognized why so many guys seem to find a bound woman so irresistible:
She was powerless to stop me from having my way with her if I decided to do it.
I could tear open Muħammad Ålī’s Sister’s thin sleepwear, take a moment to undress myself, and fuck her.
If she did not want to have sex with me, she could not stop me from raping her.
She was completely vulnerable, entirely at my mercy, with her trust in me as the only means of protecting herself.
I also recognized what she meant when she had said that she did not trust anyone else with this photo shoot.
Even beyond the fact that she and I were at a great age difference and should therefore never see each other in such kinky situations, she knew that I would not commit the ultimate taboo, nor would I endanger her relationship with her girlfriend.
The professional within me took over again, causing me to pick up the whip.
“Balance the whip across your chest to start?” I asked.
“Yeah…” She stilled in her bonds, looking down her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body to where I stood at the foot of the bed.
Her hazel eyes were riveted on the whip, and part of me wanted to quickly flick it to strike her somewhere, probably her lower leg given where I was standing, but I knew it was best to not do it, to allow her girlfriend the honor of being the first person to whip Muħammad Ålī’s Sister.
Not surprisingly, while doing my research on bondage images, I had seen some video clips of Musalmān Beauties being whipped.
The Årab slave trade.
India was Soné kī Chiđiyā, the Golden Bird, then.
The Wonder that was India.
Some of the whipping had been relatively light and sensual, with the Musalmān Beauties clearly enjoying the experience, trying to lean more into the path of the whip to maximize its impacts and moaning seductively as the whip kept moving back and forth across their bodies.
But much of the whipping I saw in those video clips was harsh, severe, turning the Musalmān Beauties various shades of red and even raising some nasty-looking lines of welts when a bullwhip was used to make the Musalmān Beauties scream and struggle and in one case even cry.
I looked at the whip in my hand, trying to imagine it, or anything else, being used to hurt Muħammad Ålī’s little Sister.
Part of me wanted to know how she would react, to both a fierce whipping and a much lighter, more sensual whipping. I had to wonder:
What would it be like to strip Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb and then use the whip on her?
And that was when I became consciously aware of the bulge forming at the front of my jeans.
With a shake of my head, I tried to slip back into my professional persona. Moving to the side of the bed, I sat beside Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb.
“How do you want it?” I asked.
She knew I was referring to the whip.
“Across My chest, please. Diagonally, like a seat belt in the front of a car.”
“Okay.” Carefully, I placed the whip as she had requested, taking great care to not touch her breasts.
She probably would not have minded an “innocent” contact with her chest, but after all, she was Muħammad Ålī’s Sister, and even though I had had plenty of fantasies in the previous weeks involving her, I was careful of any contact with Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb which one might consider as sexual or intimate, any contact which might negatively impact our familial bond.
She sighed softly.
“That feels good…” she whispered, tugging again at the wrist cuffs.
Disconnecting the mobile, I pushed back my chair.
I got to my feet.
I stood keeping Kħadījah Muħammad on her knees and elbows.
“This thing’s goofy, ludicrous, absurd, Kħadījah Muħammad, Mérī Jān.” I pushed my extremely hardened Uncut Hindu Lund into Kħadījah Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to the hilt, “I don’t think the police are going to do anything.”
I loved her so much I didn’t love even my legal wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD.
I couldn’t help it.
Kħadījah Muħammad was hyper sexual herself as I was.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD wanted least sex.
She loved and married me not for my sexual prowess.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD loved and married me for my ‘exclusive unlimited humanity’ and my devotion to upraise the Muslimahs.
“You mean Muħammad Åbdullah…”
“No, no. He’ll certainly do his best. But his police…well, of course, they may find Shaguftah Rashīd in the voter’s register. Think back on that conversation. See if you can…”
“Wait a minute.” Kħadījah Muħammad abruptly said, “She was calling from Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club alright. I could hear the male voices talking of their Stavans, Ved and Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā. The female voices were referring to Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah every now and then. And there were the melodious sweet sounds of consummating sex.”
Kħadījah Muħammad went on.
“I could hear the sound of an orchestra too. It… wait a minute now. Don’t fuck me so excitedly. Just push your Uncut Hindu Lund into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to the hilt and stop keeping it fully embedded there. No pulling out. Not even a bit. Let me concentrate, please.”
“Sālī,” I pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot as she requested and kept it there fully embedded to the hilt, “you Musalmān Beauties require my Uncut Hindu Lund fully embedded into your Musalmān Choot so that you may concentrate?”
Kħadījah Muħammad winked at me.
“That’s right, any objection?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan also concentrates in this way, doesn’t she?”
“She is crazy to imitate you.” I retorted, “You are her role model. Everything whatsoever you have done with me, she is also doing blindly.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“Saiyadah Fātimah PhD too loves her, but…”
“Yes, I do understand, but…”
“Yes, yes, let me concentrate. I remember hearing the background music too, I think. Please fuck me.”
“Please fuck me wildly and let me concentrate.”
“Nonsense. If I fuck you wildly how can you concentrate?”
“You don’t know. You are not a woman. We women have different ways in so many things. Now fuck me you teaser.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t shout.”
“Wildly, Sālī, wildly.” I started fucking Kħadījah Muħammad wildly now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had smiled once in the similar situation.
“Kħadījah Muħammad Bājī uses you. As I do.”
“These are the times when we can make you to fuck us as wildly as we damn please.”
“Shame on you.”
“Well?” I asked Kħadījah Muħammad fucking her wildly after about fifteen minutes.
“You want me to concentrate, don’t you?”
“Yes, you are right. But don’t forget your promise, will you?”
“To fuck me wildly till…”
“Yes, yes, now come on.”
“I remember the background music now. It was playing ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’.”
“Very good. Now we have only to find out where the hell in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club this background music ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’ has been played recently tonight. I love you, Kħadījah Muħammad. That’s great.”
“Don’t tell me verbally that you love me, put into action, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Your Uncut Hindu Lund is already visiting my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. Isn’t it?”*
I smiled and started obliging Kħadījah Muħammad.
“I think I can find out.” She smiled at me thankfully.
She started to use her mobile.
After some connections and disconnections she winked at me.
“Got it, Durgesh darling.”
“I think we can get it.”
“What is it?”
“Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ved Nagar has played ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’. I connected to the club and asked if they knew a Shaguftah Rashīd. The hat check girl said she did. She said that Shaguftah Rashīd had been there this evening, but she had left early. She said she had a headache. I asked how we could find Shaguftah Rashīd’s address. She said she didn’t know. Yet, she thought one of the proprietors, Iqbāl Rashīd, knew where she lived.”
“Any relationship with Shaguftah Rashīd?” I asked enthusiastically.
“I asked the hat check girl, but she didn’t know. Iqbāl Rashīd is out tonight, and couldn’t be reached.”
“Damn. You told her it was important?”
“Sure. I told her it was a matter of life and death.”
I used my mobile to contact Commissioner of Police, Muħammad Åbdullah, again.
He was in the bathroom.
“Your name is flashing already on the screen. Want to fuck me now?”
“I thought he could have requested once more to you to fuck his wife, rather his Ammījān now.”
“Give the mobile to Muħammad Åbdullah, your Chief.”
“He is in the bathroom.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I can reach you as early as possible.”
I controlled myself.
However, she was an IPS even then, waiting for her first assignment as a police officer.
This time her voice became crisply businesslike.
“Okay. What is it?”
“I had a legal appointment with a Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah for one o’clock. I was waiting for her. In the meantime I received a call from some Shaguftah Rashīd I knew only by her name. I doubt even that name, Shaguftah Rashīd, maybe fictitious. Yet she rang up. She could barely talk over the mobile. She said she’d been poisoned. Someone had sent her poisoned candy. She certainly sounded about ready to pass out. Evidently the receiver either slipped from her hands and fell, or she keeled over while she was talking to me. Then the receiver was hung up before I could trace the call.”
“You haven’t fucked her ever?”
“You fucked me faithfully being immensely loyal to your stepson that immediately accepted me his Ammījān.”
“Not immediately, Sālī, after two years.” I said curtly.
“You don’t know where she is?”
I held Kħadījah Muħammad’s slim waist with both my hands and kept fucking her wildly as she wanted.
“I’m coming to that.” I said on the mobile, “Kħadījah Muħammad did some fast thinking and some good detective work. I won’t take time to tell you about it unnecessarily. Yet the result is that Kħadījah Muħammad got a lead to the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar. A Shaguftah Rashīd is known there. She was there in the evening. But apparently the underlings don’t know her address. An Iqbāl Rashīd runs the place, but he’s out. That’s the story in a nutshell. What do you say, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl?”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t tell the police.” I said curtly, “I’m not the police. I’m only a citizen. I’ve informed the police. Commissioner of police as far as I’m concerned. If someone finds Shaguftah Rashīd’s body tomorrow morning, and…”
Her protest against I fucked her was behind her new phrase ‘Hold your Uncut Hindu Lund’ instead of ‘Hold your horses’.
She used it to register her complaint whenever she talked with me.
“With Kħadījah Muħammad.” I replied.
“I’ll be for you in about five minutes.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said, “Keep your Uncut Hindu Lund ready for me once more. Tell Kħadījah Muħammad you are going to fuck your daughter in law ACP Suraiyā Jamāl for the rest of the night. If you can be waiting down on the sidewalk, it’ll save that much time.”
“Think we can do anything by phone?”
“I doubt it, Prāñnāth. I’m grateful that you recommended your stepson Muħammad Ålī for the proprietorship of this Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar. Yet, it won’t take over a few minutes to get there. Be all ready to jump in when you hear the siren. I’ll cut her loose.”
Kħadījah Muħammad herself pushed her glorious glamorous gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī big firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my Hindu loins to receive my Uncut Hindu Lund as deepest as possible.
I blasted my Hindu Vīrý.
Yet, she was still as young and as beautiful as she was when she first raped me.
Kħadījah Muħammad closed her eyes in extreme ecstasy.
She was receiving my Hindu Vīrý once more deepest inside her as she always greeted it.
Dressing myself hastily I said,
“Okay, Ummil Mominīn, hold the fort. I may call you in a little later.”
I had scolded Muħammad Ålī.
“Papa Jī, what do you think, she married me for myself?” Muħammad Ålī complained.
I was as if fallen from the seventh sky.
“It was her own game.” Muħammad Ålī charged his wife, “She was an IPS. She wasn’t a damn fool. Neither she was physically incompetent to protect herself from you when you raped her, if she didn’t want it.”
“You may be right there.” I murmured thoughtfully.*
It took a minute or two for the elevator to get up to the floor I was with Kħadījah Muħammad.
It was an extremely complex theory of Metaphysics it was built on.
We called it Eīshān Vigyān.
The night watchman dropped me to the street level.
I had less than a minute to wait at the curb before I heard the scream of a siren.
I jerked the door open and jumped in.
I hadn’t another option except to shift to the driving seat myself.
“Open my belt, undress me below my waist and fuck me if you really want me to help you in keeping alive your so called Shaguftah Rashīd.”
I hadn’t another option once again.
After, Muħammad Ålī told her that she wasn’t his wife anymore, his Ammījān instead, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl started to sleep with me openly, with her mother in law on my one side and she herself on my other side.
I understood very well why Muħammad Ålī couldn’t satisfy her.
She wasn’t made for the softies in sex like Muħammad Ålī.
Concentrating on driving, she bent forward in rukū’.
Even then her buttocks were more active in back and forth motion than my own waist was.
She had taken benefit of my interest in Shaguftah Rashīd.
The police Mercedes screamed through the streets nonstop.
“Hang on.” She warned me as the police Mercedes screamed in a turn.
I saw, she was enjoying both the excitement of my Uncut Hindu Lund tearing her Meccan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and the excitement of tearing through traffic with siren screaming and motor roaring.
We dressed ourselves competently, debouched from the police Mercedes and marched across the sidewalk.
“You are an excellent driver.” I smiled.
“Thanks.” I squeezed her buttocks.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund to show her gratefulness and appreciation.
A big Paŧhān doorman, resplendent with uniform, saluted us.
The Paŧhān doorman dashed for a speaking tube built into the wall.
He whistled three times sharply.
“The hat-check girl, Suraiyā,” I said, “She knows something.”
She showed her identity card and stars to the hat check girl.
“Shaguftah Rashīd. Where can we find her?”
It showed it was alright.
“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t know. Someone was asking over the phone awhile back.”
“You know her?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Does she work here?”
“She doesn’t need to. She is a major shareholder here. She is one of the proprietors, I must say.”
“Exclusively interested in only the Uncut Hindu Lund you are playing with.” The hat check girl smiled.
“One Man Woman?”
“I think so.”
“How many shares she holds here?”
“I wouldn’t know, ma’am, sorry.”
“A major shareholder ma’am.” The hat check girl also smiled.
“Well, they think it a good business.”
“Yes, I see that. Where are they?”
“This place is supposed to run without anyone in charge?”
“Ordinarily, one or the other of them is here. Tonight it just happens they both are out.”
“Who else would know? The cashier? Some of the waitresses?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think so. I’ve made inquiries. I tell you who I think would.”
“Who is he?”
“Her younger brother.”
“Living with her?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
“Where do we find Iqbāl Rashīd?”
“I think the cashier has his address. Iqbāl Rashīd cashes a check here once in a while.”
We skirted the dance floor, and pushed past the crowded couples moving slowly to the rhythm of the music.
Now we were walking on to the cashier.
The cashier was in a cage between the dining room and the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.
“You know an Iqbāl Rashīd?”
She hesitated somewhat.
It was quite obvious that she was debating on a course of action.
The cashier controlled herself.
“Sorry for the delay in replying, ma’am. Yes, I know Dr. Iqbāl Rashīd.”
“Dr. Iqbāl Rashīd?”
“Where can we find him?”
“May I ask what he has done, ma’am?”
“You may not. It’s a police business. We seek informations, don’t give them to others.”
“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t know where he is at present.”
“Give me his address.”
“Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments.”
“I see. Which one?”
“Just a minute.”
She searched in her computer.
“It’s on the second floor, Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments, 256.”
“His phone number?”
“Not recorded here.”
“You know Iqbāl Rashīd when you see him?”
“He hasn’t been here tonight?”
“Would you have seen him if he had been?”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
“I think we should try Iqbāl Rashīd at Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments.”
Then she turned to the cashier once again.
“Who’s running this place?”
“Who is the major partner?”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan. He isn’t here at present but he is expected to be here any minute.”
And why should she have?
“Mr. Muħammad Ålī has a little cabin somewhere.” The cashier volunteered, “He goes there for relaxation.”
“Relaxation, eh? Where is it?”
“I wouldn’t know. It’s up in Green Canyon somewhere.”
“When Imām Muħammad Ħasan comes in, let him call police headquarters and ask for Inspector Prabhāt Deharia. Have him tell Inspector Prabhāt Deharia all he knows about Shaguftah Rashīd and her younger brother, Iqbāl Rashīd. Don’t forget. I’ll call back in a little while. What number do I call?”
The cashier gave her the number duly written in a slip.
“It’s always a pleasure seeing an efficient police officer at work.”
“Thank you.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl also smiled, “We have to handle them in this way. Otherwise they’ll start swapping gossip with us. And we’ll get nowhere. People seem to forget we have emergency calls pouring in in a steady stream. We haven’t time to dillydally, or let other people take the lead. We have to keep them on the defensive to get anywhere ever.”
“I understand.” I smiled.
We squeezed past the dance floor.
“Not the police version exactly.” I smiled, “What’s it?”
“That’s not the truth at all.”
“These organizations are actually run by Pseudo Islamic countries. They have calculatingly adopted this humiliating name to Musalmīn for the club, to defame the Hindus and their horniest Musalmān beloveds.”
“I see. So, the police also know the conspiracy behind it?”
I smiled too.
“What do you think the Pseudo Islamic countries don’t know that the police are aware of their conspiracy?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then why they are still retaining this name for the club?”
“India was the eighth most powerful country not many days before. Neither Saůūdī Årab nor Iran was anywhere in power in the suburb of India. China was second and USA was the number one. Yet, HVSI marched ahead aggressively and now HVSI is the most powerful organization on the entire globe.”
The Punishment to my enemy
An unwanted affair
Ammījān and her son 4
I felt my climax building up.
I sucked his Uncut Hindu Cock harder and harder.
Without any warning, his Uncut Hindu Cock swelled inside my mouth, and before I could react, he exploded releasing the first load of his Hindu cum into the back of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān mouth.
There was no time to back out.
I gagged for a Moment but couldn’t stop his hot Hindu semen from making its way to my stomach.
It was an entirely new experience; I liked sucking his Uncut Hindu Cock but could never dare to take his Hindu cum into my mouth.
So far, he also had refrained from cumming in my mouth except on some rare occasions.
It was quite contradictory to his nature.
But, he never forced me to drink his cum.
With his first load down my belly, I realized that my fears were unfounded.
It was a sort of very tasty thick liquid. I didn’t find it disgusting; I rather liked the taste.
I made no attempt to withdraw my lips off his Uncut Hindu Cock .
I tried to suck every drop of it, but a part of it oozed out and dribbled along his Uncut Hindu Cock length.
That very Moment, my orgasm struck like a lightening. My whole body went rigid with rapture.
I could feel my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt muscles twitching violently.
I forgot about sucking his Uncut Hindu Cock .
It slipped out of my lips, spewing few final drops over my lips.
I rested my head over his Hindu crotch feeling his semi erect, slick Uncut Hindu Cock pressing against my cheek.
I stuck my tongue out and licked his balls.
I rolled off his body and slumped beside him.
Durgesh got up and changed his position.
He was now facing me.
I became aware of my own condition.
I could see Hindu lust in his eyes.
He didn’t waste any time and immediately slipped between my legs.
He got on all four, lifted my legs and placed them over his shoulders.
He began kissing the inside of my thighs, running his tongue over my wet thighs.
Finally, he attacked my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
I could feel the lustful heat searing my body again.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt began to lubricate with anticipation.
My heart began to work faster and faster.
I moaned loudly.
Then I felt his hand touching between my ass cheeks gently and his finger gently probing into my sphincter.
He rubbed his index finger over my puckered hole and forced it inside my rectum.
I bucked my hips under this sudden onslaught and screamed as it hurt a little. He pushed his finger deep, up to his knuckle. His index finger was buried to ass for the second time.
He began moving his finger in and out of my ass.
My mind was going crazy with the two way pleasure.
Durgesh positioned himself between my spread legs and placed the swollen knob of his Uncut Hindu Cock at my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt opening.
With a fierce lunge, he buried his Uncut Hindu Cock deep into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
He fucked my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy hard, grabbing my thighs with his hands; he turned me to my side.
He then left my thighs, and his finger again moved to my back side.
He searched for my anus and again jabbed his finger deep into my ass.
I wailed with lust.
“Liked it?” He asked as he fucked me both ways with his Uncut Hindu Cock and his finger.
“Ahhhhhhhhh… ya… yeah… ahhhhhhhh…” I bucked with pleasure.
He smiled and withdrew his Uncut Hindu Cock out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I stared at him with disappointment. He also withdrew his finger from my ass and turned me to my back again.
I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock head moving, and then his knob was pressing against my anus.
I was terrified.
I had never been fucked in my ass before, and my instinct told me that it would be painful.
“No…” I cried trying to push him away from me.
He had no such intentions.
My sphincter muscles resisted a little but then gave way to his brutal Hindu strength.
His Uncut Hindu Cock head entered my rectum.
“Ahhhhhhhh…” I moaned loudly, pretty sure that Muħammad Ålī might have heard me in the other room, “No… it’s hurting.”
I felt tears welling in my eyes as the fear and pain gripped my body.
Durgesh was relentless.
He grabbed and forced my hands above my head.
He worked the entire length into my ass slowly.
He let my body get used to the new feeling.
I could now feel the stretching and fullness in my sphincter muscles, but the twinge that occurred when Durgesh entered me subsided.
Durgesh pulled his Uncut Hindu Cock out of my rectum until only the tip was gripped by the tight ring of muscles.
The pain eased, but not for long as Durgesh rammed it back all the way in a single thrust.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh…” I shrieked.
Durgesh began sawing his Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of my rectum.
My ass muscles gripped his sawing Hindu manhood tightly, feeling every curve of his gigantic Uncut Hindu Cock as it moved in and out of my rectum.
Soon, his every Hindu thrust drove me to the verge of ecstasy.
I could feel my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips swelling with excitement and fresh Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt juice starting to flow out of my slit.
I didn’t realize that I was moaning nonstop under his Hindu onslaught.
He lowered his head, took one of my erect nipples between his lips, and began kissing hard.
“Ahhhhhhhhh… yeah.” I whimpered as I sensed another orgasm approaching.
It was unbelievable.
I had never imagined that I could reach an orgasm this way, but it was happening right there with me.
I could feel the pressure building inside my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
I grabbed his head between my arms forcing it onto my tits, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Yes…yes…please sodomize me…ahhhhhhhhhhh…” I wailed begging him to sodomize me harder, feeling my body reach the point of no return.
Durgesh fucked my ass harder and harder,
I begged for more and he obliged with increasing his rutting.
It went on till infinity.
“It’s coming Suraiyah Jamāl…” Ultimately Durgesh groaned as he bore into my ass again, “I’m cumming… cummming… ahh… ahhh… here it comes… ahhhhhhh.”
Father-in-law cried and slammed his Uncut Hindu Cock deep into my rectum.
I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock swell inside my rear canal, and then the whole canal was filled with his hot Hindu cum.
It triggered my own orgasm.
I cried loudly, completely oblivious to the fact that my cries could be heard by my Musalmān husband in the other bedroom.
I had already crossed the line, and nothing could have stopped me from enjoying this blissful Moment.
Durgesh let out a deep breath and collapsed over me.
We clung to each other, reveling in the aftermath of our passionate anal adventure.
Gradually, the throbbing stopped and his Uncut Hindu Cock ceased deluging my anal passage.
I squeezed my anal muscles and sensed his Uncut Hindu Cock slowly losing its hardness.
Finally, he withdrew his Uncut Hindu Cock out.
My rear entry felt empty, and I became aware of a thin stream of hot sticky cum oozing out of my freshly buggered hole, slowly making its way along my crack and then soaking the bed sheet underneath. Durgesh lifted his body off me and slumped on one side, breathing heavily.
I looked at him; he was smiling with satisfaction; his eyes still filled with lust.
I smiled back at him and got off the bed.
He didn’t try to stop me, just kept watching me as I put my clothes back on. My ass and Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt, were both feeling slippery as I walked out of his room.
When I reached the door, the lights were still on in my bedroom.
As I opened the door, Muħammad Ålī, still wide awake, lifted his head from his pillow, looked blankly into my eyes and then closed his eyes again.
His face was emotionless.
If anything were going through his mind, he hid it successfully.
I felt embarrassed and guilty.
After all, he was my husband and no husband would agree to his wife sleeping with somebody else.
I didn’t know what was going on inside his head.
All I knew was that I couldn’t help it anymore.
I was now a personal whore for my Hindu father-in-law, and I enjoyed fucking him.
In a way, Muħammad Ålī was also responsible for it.
He could have stopped me tonight from going to his father’s room.
But he didn’t.
Now he couldn’t complain.
I went to the bathroom, stripped and took a shower.
I washed my Hindu cum soaked Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and ass.
I changed my clothes and came out of the bathroom.
I turned off the lights, and for a Moment, I stood in the darkness wondering where to sleep.
Finally, I made up my mind and slowly slipped beside Muħammad Ålī.
We lay side by side; neither of us uttered a word.
It was a very strange feeling.
I was lying beside my Musalmān husband who knew that I had just fucked Durgesh.
Perhaps, he also heard my cries of passion all through my fuck session with my Hindu father-in-law.
I didn’t know whether I should love or hate my Musalmān husband for letting me go and fuck his own Hindu father.
We lay silently in the darkness.
My mind was in turmoil.
I heard Muħammad Ålī tossing around; and probably he was still tossing in bed when I dozed off.
My relationship with Muħammad Ålī as a man and wife virtually ceased to exist.
Although he didn’t divorce me, but after that night, there was no physical relationship between Muħammad Ålī and me.
We still shared the same bed; every night we slept side by side, but Muħammad Ålī never tried to touch me.
Even if I tried to encourage or seduce him, he simply brushed off my overtures, and turned his face away.
Every effort I made to seduce him bore no result, and finally I had to give up.
He talked very little with me; only when it was utmost necessary.
He began spending most of his time with our kids and ignored my presence altogether.
His attitude made my life miserable; I lived with an overbearing feeling of guilt, which was amplified every time I faced my Musalmān husband.
I felt bad for him, and felt hurt by his neglect; but, I hadn’t the courage to face him.
Muħammad Ålī never talked about my amorous relationship with Durgesh , nor did he try to stop it.
My daily fuck sessions with Durgesh continued unabated.
Durgesh was insatiable, always ready to stuff his Uncut Hindu Cock into my horny Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
After that first time, he became even more daring.
Whenever he felt horny, he would simply called me; day or night, it didn’t matter to him.
My Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy was getting more fucking than it could bargain for.
I was a reluctant partner in his horny game.
Like a drug addict who wanted to quit his habit but he couldn’t, I too wanted to stop my wanton relationship with Durgesh, but miserably failed to do so.
It was a weird kind of addiction, born out of fear of Durgesh, but so overwhelming, that I found it hard to say no to him every time he put his hands over my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I liked the feel of his throbbing Uncut Hindu Cock plundering my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy , and even longed for it whenever he was out of town.
My longing for an Uncut Hindu Cock was so intense that it always overtook the feeling of remorse that I had about my Musalmān husband.
Many nights, after screwing Durgesh, I laid awake in my bed beside Muħammad Ålī hoping that he would get up and shove his cut Cock into my Durgesh’s Hindu cum filled Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
Although I was getting a regular dose of fucking from Durgesh, I still missed Muħammad Ålī badly.
I desperately wanted him to make love to me.
Was it due to my love for him or was it due to my feelings of guilt, I couldn’t say.
I probably longed for his acceptance.
His continued neglect of me made me crazy about him.
Although Muħammad Ålī was keeping a distance from me, I sensed the struggle going inside him.
Often, I found him tossing in bed late in the nights.
Whenever I returned from Durgesh’s room after a prolong session of fucking and sucking, I could feel that Muħammad Ålī was awake waiting for me to return.
Sometime, in the nights, I woke up and found gentle stirring under the covers.
It didn’t take me long to realize that my husband had been whacking his cut Cock .
Perhaps there was some hope.
On one such night, I tried to take advantage of his vulnerability.
When he began whacking his cut Cock, I reached out and placed my hand over his naked belly.
Startled, he jumped off the bed and scurried to the bathroom.
I watched him go in utter frustration.
My heart was broken.
After that, he stopped masturbating in bed.
Instead, he started visiting the bathroom regularly late at night, staying there for long durations.
After every such visit, I found handkerchiefs or small towels among the dirty clothes in the washing machine; each of them with a big dry spot.
Time flew, and I never realized that almost two years had passed since Muħammad Ålī stopped making love to me.
I had resigned to my fate and lost any hope of reviving my marriage again.
However, things took a surprising turn after the month of Ramzān.
Two days after Eid, it was almost ten thirty at night and I was getting ready for bed.
The kids were already asleep.
Muħammad Ålī was sprawled on the bed, eyes closed; he was pretending to be asleep.
Durgesh was not in the house.
He had gone to visit some relatives in a nearby town.
I undid my clothes, vaguely aware that Muħammad Ålī was staring at me with his half-closed eyes.
It was a ritual that I performed almost regularly ever since Muħammad Ålī stopped having sex with me.
I never wasted any chance to let him see me naked or semi-naked, always hoping that one day my husband would start taking interest in me again.
I deliberately stripped to my bra and panties, waited for my husband to savor my semi nude charms.
It was weird.
I was trying to seduce my own husband who seemed to have lost interest in me completely.
Muħammad Ålī kept his eyes closed.
I gave him a glance, and finally put on a loose fitting gown.
I switched off the main light leaving only a small night lamp on.
I was about to slip in bed beside Muħammad Ålī, when he opened his eyes.
I couldn’t believe my ears.
He hadn’t addressed me by Suraiyah Jamāl for almost two years.
I felt my eyes turning wet with happiness.
Muħammad Ålī got off the bed.
He walked close to where I was standing near the foot of the bed.
“Suraiyah Jamāl… sit here.”
I stared at him silently.
He took my hand, and helped me sit on the edge of the bed.
I offered no resistance and settled down.
Muħammad Ålī sat close to me.
“Wanted to ask you something,” he began, then stopped, looking somewhat unsure.
I was suddenly very happy.
My husband had approached me after almost two years.
I suppressed my tears of joy.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know how to ask you. Are you… do you…?” He fumbled for words, “Actually what I want to know that are you happy with Durgesh?”
I didn’t understand what he meant; I stared at him questioningly.
“I… I mean,” he stammered, “do you like sleeping with him?”
So that was his intention: he wanted to know whether I liked fucking Durgesh.
I wanted to tell him ‘yes’, but knew that it wouldn’t be good to say so.
It was probably not the right time to accept that fact.
“What do you think?” I retorted, feigning little anger, “I’m happy sleeping with him? I sleep with him because I care for you and our kids. You know very well if I don’t do that he’d throw all of us out of this house.”
“I know… I know.” He said awkwardly, feeling little hurt.
I realized that he too was carrying guilt for not being able to protect me from Durgesh.
I felt pity for him, but also realized he was vulnerable at that Moment.
Perhaps I could use this opportunity.
“I did everything for you and the kids.” I gripped his hand, “Do you hate me for that?”
“No,” he replied immediately, “I don’t hate you. I worship you instead for your sacrifice for me and my daughters. I’m indebted and grateful to you.”
“Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t you make love to me? Why don’t you act like my husband?”
“Because you’re my Ammījān now.”
I looked at him incredulously,
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Any woman…” he fumbled, “who sleeps with my father got to be my Ammījān only. You can’t be my wife now.”
It was the most preposterous logic I had ever heard in my life.
“And what about the twelve years we spent together as husband and wife?” My voice was suddenly sharp.
I felt tears begin to swell in my eyes. He gawked at me.
“What about our children, do you think Durgesh is their father?”
“No, they’re my kids.” He was on the back foot, “But now I can’t be your husband.”
“Why not?” I rasped loudly, “I’m still your wife. Don’t you love me anymore?”
“I still love you, and I know that you didn’t do it willingly the first time. But now, we can’t live like husband and wife anymore.”
“Because you think that I’m your Ammījān now. Is that why you didn’t fuck me for the last two years?” I dropped all modesty and asked him crudely.
“Yes.” He said slowly.
His eyes went wide with my use of the word ‘fuck’.
I felt exasperated.
It was a strange situation.
My husband was avoiding me because he believed that I was his Ammījān as I had been screwing his Hindu ‘father’.
“No, I hate him for that.” His eyes were suddenly burning with hatred, “I want to kill that Hindu.”
“Why didn’t you kill him then?”
“I don’t know.” He said meekly, “I don’t know. Perhaps I don’t have the courage to do it. But I hate him.”
A thought suddenly occurred to me.
“I’d be happier if you can avenge my humiliation.” I feigned a sarcastic look.
He stared at me and then diverted his gaze. “I… I don’t know… how?” He babbled.
“Yes.” He said painfully.
My heart began to melt.
“How will you do it?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulder, “I know I’m no match for him, in any way.”
The thought that was ticking in the back of my mind grew stronger.
I didn’t know whether he would accept my logic, but I decided to give it a try.
“There’s a way.”
“How?” His eyes were suddenly lit.
“You sure think I’m your Ammījān?” I quizzed him.
“I already told you that.”
“And you hate your Hindu ‘father’ for fucking me, and taking me away from you?”
“Yes,” he spoke with irritation in his voice, “how many times do I have to tell you that?”
“You can take your revenge.” I gave him a mischievous grin.
“How, how?” He asked impatiently.
“By fucking your Ammījān.”
He looked at me clumsily.
“Do to him what he did to you.” I wished that he would take the bait, “He fucked your wife and made her his personal whore. Do the same to him. Take his ‘wife’, me… fuck her… make her your slut.”
He stared at me, silently, lost in his thoughts.
I prayed silently.
After a while, he said contemptuously,
“Sorry, Ammījān!I’m a Musalmān. I’m not a Hindu. I’ve to show my face to Allah. I’ll never do it.”
I stared at him incredulously.
I stared at the Musalmān.
I knew, I’m not his wife anymore.
I’m his Ammījān forever now.
I kissed his forehead,
“You are right, son. Now touch my feet, if you think I’m really your Ammījān.”
He licked my feet and put his head there.
The relationship between us, was changed now forever.
From now on, my Musalmān husband was my son, and I was his Ammījān.
I left the bedroom.
My mother in law greeted me on her bed with Durgesh.
“From now on, all the three of us will sleep in nude, with Durgesh between us.”
I smiled, undressed myself and joined their nude bodies on the bed, now for ever.
The realization dawned on me with a great impact:
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The Punishment to my enemy
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Ammījān and her son 3
His movements were slow at first probably because of our awkward position, but he soon found his rhythm and began fucking me harder and faster.
I could feel his gigantic Uncut Hindu Prick fucking deeper and deeper into my dripping Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt hole. With every Hindu stroke, it was driving me nuts.
I clasped my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān thighs tightly around his Hindu waist and tried to wiggle my hips, trying to get his raging Uncut Hindu Cock even deeper into my willing Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
His face was buried in my tits. His lips were mercilessly kneading my soft flesh.
Durgesh was groaning loudly with lust,
” Suraiyah Jamāl… what a Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.” He was out of breath with exertion.
He pounded my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy relentlessly.
His lewd words worked to aggravate my longing for his ferocious Uncut Hindu Cock .
I began working my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt muscles over his Uncut Hindu Cock .
I tried to hold his Uncut Hindu Cock tightly inside by squeezing my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt muscles.
Durgesh moaned with pleasure.
Both of us had completely forgotten the water that was continuously falling over our burning bodies.
My Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy was dripping profusely under his onslaught.
Over and over, Durgesh fucked his mammoth Uncut Hindu Cock deep into my wet slick Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
My orgasm hit me like a flash of lightening.
“Aahhhhhhhhhhh…” I moaned shamelessly, completely oblivious to the fact that I was actually coming while fucking my father-in-law.
I enjoyed my orgasm with wild abandon.
Durgesh sensed my orgasm.
He began pumping my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy even harder.
“I’m coming… Suraiyah Jamāl… its coming.” Durgesh moaned and fucked his Uncut Hindu Cock all the way into my ravenous Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
He cried loudly as his Uncut Hindu Cock began shooting inside me.
Slowly, the throbbing subsided and his Uncut Hindu Cock began to soften inside me.
My legs were still clenching to his waist.
He rested his face over my tits, desperately trying to control his erratic breathing.
We remained there in that position, trying to catch our breaths.
Then I lowered my leg on the floor.
He got up.
His limp Uncut Hindu Cock slipped out of me.
His Hindu cum oozed out of my freshly fucked Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy , dribbling along the crack of my ass, mixed with the water pouring from the shower.
The water helped in rinsing a part of our fuck juices from our bodies.
Durgesh gave me a satisfied grin,
“Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā knows Suraiyah Jamāl,” He smiled. “I never fucked a Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt like yours, for quite a long time, darling!”
After so recklessly enjoying a mind blowing fuck with my father-in-law, I suddenly found myself turning red with shame and embarrassment.
Father-in-law helped me in washing my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
He took his time in working his Uncut Hindu Penis up my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and cleansed every drop of cum deposited.
Still, he was not satisfied.
We showered together and only then, he relented and released me.
I hurriedly fled to my room, naked, leaving my drenched clothes lying on the bathroom floor.
I closed the doors from the inside and grabbed a towel.
I looked at my naked reflection in the mirror.
I found myself turning crimson.
I had cheated on my loving Musalmān husband.
I wasn’t fully responsible for the last day’s incident.
However, I couldn’t deny that I had seen it coming, yet didn’t do much to stop it.
Perhaps I should have informed Muħammad Ålī about his father’s overtures much earlier.
Now, it was too late.
The thin line separating my relationship with my father-in-law had been crossed.
The truth was that I had enjoyed it; in fact, I rather waited for it to happen today.
By succumbing to the temptation, I had lost any moral ground that I had before starting my lustful relation with my Hindu father-in-law.
I saw my daughter stirring in her bed. Afraid that she would wake up at any Moment, I dropped the towel, and hurriedly took a new pair of bra and panties from the dresser and slipped them on my body.
I was about to put my salwar and kurta on when there was a knock at the door.
“Who’s there?” Although, I knew who it was.
“Suraiyah Jamāl… open the door,” The horny old Hindu man was again back, “want to show you something.”
“Not yet.” I replied, again feeling a sudden rush of excitement running through my body. “I’m still undressed.”
Immediately, his lecherous laughter resonated from the other side of door,
“Still have something to hide? Please open… I’ve got something for you.”
I thought for a Moment, and then opened the door.
Father-in-law stepped inside.
He was in his usual dress; his upper body bare and a tahmed carelessly wrapped around his waist that did nothing to hide the bulge in front of his crotch. When he saw me standing in only in a bra and panties, his eyes opened wide in admiration, “It’s for you.” He gave me a lewd grin. He brought his hand from behind his back and presented me with a box.
I reached out and took the box in my hand.
I lifted the lid and slowly opened the box.
Nestled in the blue velvety cloth was a beautiful pearl necklace.
He removed it from the box and held it up.
“It’s for you.” He whispered.
“No… I can’t take it.” I refused. “What am I gonna tell Muħammad Ålī.”
“Don’t worry about him.” He handed me the necklace, “Just give him any Cock and bull story… he’ll believe it.”
Durgesh moved behind me, took the necklace from me and slipped it around my neck.
Then he took me in front of the mirror,
“Suraiyah Jamāl… you’re gorgeous.” He spoke as he slipped his arms around my waist.
I felt his Hindu hardness pressing into my back.
His Hindu hand slipped inside my panties, and his hand touched my juicy, swollen Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips and quickly found my clit.
Durgesh began to rub my tiny love-button.
“No… please stop… not anymore.” I resisted, but he didn’t listen to me.
In a flash, he slipped my panties off my legs.
Then he unhooked my bra and dropped it on the floor.
A pair of Hindu hands was working over her hairy Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy from behind.
I had never been in such a position.
I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock poking into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān ass cheeks. Then I realized that father-in-law had already dropped his tahmed, and he was standing completely naked behind me. Durgesh grabbed me from behind and forced me to bend forward.
“No… not.” I tried to stop him, “What’re you doing?”
Durgesh didn’t listen and pushed me.
I bent forward and grabbed the edge of the dressing table.
Durgesh positioned himself behind me.
I held my breath as his mammoth Hindu manhood touched my glistening Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
Durgesh took the Uncut Hindu Cock tip between his thumb and index finger and planted the tip at the opening of my scorching Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I was never fucked from behind before.
Although, Muħammad Ålī and I were aware about many positions of fucking, but we had never given it a try.
It was mostly done in missionary position.
Muħammad Ålī never liked to experiment; and I was too prudish to ask for any such thing.
I waited with bated breath.
“Sorry Suraiyah Jamāl… can’t stop now.” I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock head gently opening my inflamed Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips.
His Uncut Hindu Cock began its journey into my already creaming Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
In one stroke, it was completely buried into me.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh…” Father-in-law cried in excitement as his Uncut Hindu Cock plunged into my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
Durgesh began fucking me vigorously.
I waited for a Moment and then began responding to his Hindu strokes.
Durgesh fucked me harder and faster.
I was surprised at his Hindu energy. Only fifteen minutes ago, he had fucked me in the shower, and now his Uncut Hindu Cock was again buried inside from behind and he was pumping my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy like a madman.
I could never recall being fucked by Muħammad Ålī twice in one day.
Probably during the initial years of our marriage, he had fucked me more than once but such occasions were very rare.
I had a sense of exhilaration for being such a turn on for Durgesh.
His Uncut Hindu Cock was moving in and out of my ravenous Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt like a piston.
I began to squirm.
Her face contorted with lust; she was groaning, moaning, begging the old Hindu man to pump her Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy harder and harder.
It was entirely a different woman.
Durgesh was groaning with effort.
His Hindu movements were increasing with every passing second.
My whole body reveled with the exquisite feeling.
“Aarhhhhhhhhhhhh…” He moaned loudly as he plunged his Hindu hard on into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
His Uncut Hindu Cock exploded like a massive volcano, releasing a big load of thick fresh Hindu cum deep inside my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
I felt his jerking within the velvety folds of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and releasing gob after gob of fresh Hindu cum.
My Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy twitched violently around his Uncut Hindu Cock.
I forcibly squeezed my thighs trying to milk his shooting Uncut Hindu Cock.
His Uncut Hindu Cock jerked inside me for the final time, and then his ejaculation stopped.
He withdrew his slick Uncut Hindu Cock out of my Hindu cum filled Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
Durgesh slumped over my back, breathing heavily.
I felt his Hindu cum oozing out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and slowly trickling along my inner thighs.
I got up and turned to face him.
I looked at his cum soaked Uncut Hindu Cock that was fast shrinking in size.
He gave me an exultant look.
Lovingly, he put his head over my dripping Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and gently ran his fingers over my slit.
I closed my eyes and reveled in a wanton abandon.
“Suraiyah Jamāl…” Durgesh spoke.
I opened my eyes.
“You should take care of yourself.” He pointed toward my hairy underarms, “Go to a parlor and get this removed.” He gave me warm smile, and went out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.
I staggered to my bed and collapsed over it.
I got back to my senses only when my one year old daughter woke up and began crying.
I suddenly felt ashamed of my nakedness in front of my toddler.
That afternoon, I visited a beauty salon to get a complete makeover.
We never know what life has in store for us. We start doing something that we don’t enjoy, but end up liking it. Something similar happened to me. My amorous relationship with my father-in-law started as a non-consensual one. I hated my father-in-law for taking advantage of my vulnerability. He threatened me and then fucked me against my will. However, once I took his Uncut Hindu Cock into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy , I forgot everything.
It was a strange kind of love-hate relationship. I still hated him secretly for what he did to me, yet I longed to feel his Uncut Hindu Cock fucking into my horny Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
There were brief spells of righteousness, when I thought that I should stop screwing Durgesh.
But they were short-lived.
Durgesh successfully thwarted any such attempt.
Durgesh cajoled me, brought me new gifts and if that didn’t work then he threatened me; he did everything to get inside my panties.
And he succeeded every time.
I was aware that I had been cheating on my faithful Musalmān husband.
It always kept nagging in the back of my head.
In Moments of solitude, I always felt overwhelmed by a deep sense of remorse.
Yet, I couldn’t resist the carnal pleasure that I enjoyed in the company of Durgesh.
After many years of marriage, I began caring for my looks.
I started dressing nicely, and enjoying the frequent gifts Durgesh had been bestowing upon me.
I was sure Muħammad Ålī must have noticed those changes.
He appeared surprised at times, but he never mentioned it.
Durgesh was an extremely horny old stud.
He fucked me everywhere in the house; on his bed, on my bed, on the dining table, in the shower, even in the open courtyard.
I can’t recall if there were anywhere left in the house where we didn’t fuck.
Once I lost my reservations, I began to explore every facet of lovemaking with Durgesh.
I did many things with him which I could never have dreamt of doing with Muħammad Ålī.
I began watching porn movies with Durgesh.
I found it repulsive initially, but later I started enjoying it.
Often, when we were alone at home, we watched movies together.
Then he would fuck me in the various styles shown in the movies.
I loved the way he kissed my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
Durgesh was an ardent Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt kisser.
Every time he went down on me, he drove me crazy with pleasure.
One day, he asked me to suck his Uncut Hindu Cock.
I was reluctant at first.
After some coercion, I agreed with a condition that he would not cum in my mouth.
He kept his promise but when he was about to shoot, I invited him to shoot into my mouth, changing my mind suddenly.
I found it highly erotic.
Slowly, I began enjoying taking his Uncut Hindu Cock in my mouth and sucking him hard.
I was also aware that it would be very difficult to keep our relationship secret for a very long time.
One day Muħammad Ålī would come to learn about it.
And it finally happened.
It was an early October cool morning.
My affair with Durgesh had already entered its third month.
The housemaid finished her daily chores; I quickly walked her to the door.
I had already fed Shama, and she was fast asleep.
As I locked the front door, Durgesh was already behind me clad in only his trademark tahmed.
He grabbed me.
By the time we reached my bedroom, I was completely naked.
My clothes were lying carelessly in the corridor from the front door, all the way to my room.
Durgesh pushed me onto the bed.
He undid his tahmed and dropped it on the floor.
He hurriedly got between my legs.
In a Moment, he was between my legs, with his face first buried between my thighs and then his hungry Uncut Hindu Penis lashing over my already dripping Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
He fucked my horny Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy to an orgasm.
My body was writhing with lust.
I was dying to feel his massive Uncut Hindu Cock plundering my ravenous Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy, more and more .
He didn’t attempt to slide it inside my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy ; he just continued rubbing it over my slit.
“Fuck me.” I said irritably, gyrating my inflamed Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips over his Uncut Hindu Cock head, “Don’t make me wait.”
“Okay.” He leered still running his Uncut Hindu Cock head along my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt slit.
“Please!” I wriggled my ass trying to get his Uncut Hindu Cock inside me.
“Really? You want it?” he teased me.
“Yes, please don’t tease me,” I begged, “fuck me hard.”
“As you wish my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān love, here it comes.” Finally, Durgesh relented and eased the fat head of his Uncut Hindu Cock into the entrance of my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt. He then stopped again!
“Fuck me!” I cried like a slut, lifting my ass off the bed.
Durgesh laughed triumphantly, gripped my trembling legs and lunged.
His Uncut Hindu Cock pierced my spongy Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!” I moaned as I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock moving deep inside me.
My head snapped back.
I reveled in the feeling of his massive Uncut Hindu Cock resting inside my scalding Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
Father-in-law moved his hips, gently eased his Uncut Hindu Cock from my hungry Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt until only the Uncut Hindu Cock head was still inside.
Then he forced it back into my eager Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy , causing me to moan with ecstasy.
A thundering spasm rippled through my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy each time his Uncut Hindu Cock plunged in. My Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy began dripping profusely with his lustful strokes.
“Like it?” Durgesh asked as he pumped his Uncut Hindu Cock in my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
“Ahh… ahhh… yes… Meri Jān! Mere Hindu Piyā! Durgesh!… yes… aahhh…” I murmured between my moans of ecstasy.
Durgesh drove in his Uncut Hindu Cock with a massive thrust.
“Ahhhhh… ahhhhh!” I wailed in extreme pleasure.
The room was filled with lovely sounds as his Uncut Hindu Cock mercilessly plundered my drooling Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
He had started panting with the effort.
I moaned loudly as my second orgasm hit me like a lightning.
I bucked my hips up to receive his deep Hindu thrusts.
My body went rigid with my orgasm.
Durgesh didn’t stop pumping.
He fucked me even harder.
His Uncut Hindu Cock sloshed into my dripping Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy like a piston, with every in-stroke forcing a fresh spasm of pleasure in my body.
“Ohhhh… it’s coming Suraiyah Jamāl… it’s coming.” Durgesh was fast approaching his own orgasm.
I could sense his Uncut Hindu Cock starting to swell inside me.
His Uncut Hindu Cock jerked inside me releasing a fresh load of his hot Hindu juice.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed his hot Hindu juice flooding my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
A long shrilly sound suddenly filled the silence of the house.
We stopped in stunned silence, completely oblivious of what was happening.
Then he realized it first.
“Shit! Someone’s at the door.” Durgesh exclaimed.
Someone was pressing the doorbell.
Surprisingly calm, Durgesh immediately rolled off me.
His throbbing Uncut Hindu Cock popped out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
Still squirting, it jerked violently and deposited a few more drop over my dark wet bush.
Durgesh jumped off the bed, grabbed his tahmed from the floor.
“Check who’s there Suraiyah Jamāl.” He whispered and rushed out of my bedroom.
I quickly got off the bed, picked my clothes spread all over the corridor and then quickly dressed.
There was no time to clean my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I just pulled my panties on.
I glanced at myself in the mirror to make sure that I looked presentable, and I went over to the front door.
The bell rang again, this time for a much longer duration.
“Who’s there?” I asked trying to control my erratic breathing.
My heart leaped to my throat.
My husband was standing on the other side of the door.
I opened the door immediately.
“Where were you?” He looked at me questioningly.
“I was sleeping.” In my rush, I couldn’t think of a better reply.
“At this hour?” He frowned. “Where’s Dad?”
“Don’t know; might be sleeping as well.”
“Strange… everyone is sleeping.” He babbled to himself; suddenly he stared at me, “What happened to you? You don’t look fine.”
Color drained from my face.
“Nothing…” I stammered, not knowing what else to say.
He said nothing, and went into the bedroom.
I followed him hurriedly, silently praying.
He went near the bed and turned toward me.
I saw his nostrils flaring.
I shouldn’t have let him in.
He must have smelled the fresh fragrance of Hindu cum that permeated the air.
My eyes glanced over the bed; in my hurry, I had forgotten to adjust the bed cover.
It was a complete mess; the bed cover was completely crumpled.
There was a small wet spot on the sheets, almost an inch in diameter.
For a Moment, I felt that my heart would stop beating.
I moved to the bed quickly and sat so my body hid the spot from Muħammad Ålī’s view.
Muħammad Ålī looked at me, suspiciously.
“Who’s here Suraiyah?” All of a sudden, father-in-law asked from outside my door.
Muħammad Ålī’s attention was immediately diverted toward him.
Father-in-law is a shrewd man.
He didn’t enter my room.
Muħammad Ålī went out to talk to him.
I took a deep sigh of relief.
Quickly adjusted the bed sheets and covered the wet spot with a pillow.
Then I sat on bed and prayed that Muħammad Ålī wouldn’t decide to stay back.
Muħammad Ålī talked with his father about some matter regarding the shop.
He finally took instructions from father-in-law and then came inside after few minutes.
“I’m going with Dad.” He informed me. “Lock the door.”
As my husband and his father went out together, I quickly locked the door from inside, came back to my room and collapsed on the bed.
I just had a very narrow escape.
I was lucky that Muħammad Ålī didn’t notice the wet spot on the bed.
I realized that I would have to be very careful in the future.
Durgesh and Muħammad Ålī returned together late in the night.
During dinner, Muħammad Ålī appeared lost in his thoughts.
After dinner, he immediately went to our bedroom.
I finished all routine work and went to the room around ten.
Muħammad Ålī was still awake.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed.
I stared at him and immediately realized that something was terribly wrong.
“Come here.” He said to me solemnly.
Mortified, I sat beside him.
He looked me straight in the eyes,
“What’s going on between you and Dad?”
I had never expected that he would ask so bluntly.
All color drained from my face.
My whole body shivered with fear.
“Nothing…nothing.” I stammered.
“Don’t lie to me; what were you doing in the morning?”
I stared at him with frightened eyes.
Nothing came out of my mouth.
“I want an answer.” His voice was sharp.
“I…I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” I didn’t know what to say.
A morbid fear gripped my heart.
Deep inside, I had a hunch that my secret was no longer secret.
“Should I tell you?” He retorted.
I tried to speak, but nothing came out of my throat.
I knew my guilt feeling was correct.
“Okay tell me,” his eyes were suddenly burning with anger, “Since when it’s been going on?”
“What… I don’t understand… what you mean?” I wasn’t yet ready to accept my infidelity.
“Do you think I’m an asshole?” he roared, “I saw it last night… Durgesh was pinching your ass in the kitchen.”
I thought I would faint.
“And you were laughing.” He finished. His eyes never stopped looking at me.
I cursed my father-in-law.
Yesterday, while I was cooking dinner, he sneaked into the kitchen. Muħammad Ålī and the kids were in my room at the time. Finding me alone, he put his hands over my ass and squeezed my cheeks.
I had immediately removed his hands and warned him.
But, I didn’t know that it was also seen by Muħammad Ålī.
“What was happening today?” He asked again. “He was fucking you… am I right?”
Tears welled in my eyes.
I knew that it was useless to pretend anymore.
I told him everything, from the very beginning.
How his father threatened me and forced me to sleep with him.
Muħammad Ålī listened silently.
I could see his anger growing in his eyes.
Finally, he rose from the bed.
His eyes were burning with anger and hatred. He walked over to the door.
“Where are you going?” I asked anxiously.
He didn’t reply and went out of the room.
I hurriedly went to the door and watched him going toward his father’s room.
I didn’t have the courage to follow him, so I shut the door and sat behind it praying silently, tears streaming down my face.
For the next half hour, I heard the shouts and sharp voices emanating from father-in-law’s room.
I could hear Muħammad Ålī shouting at his father, and his father was replying with equal tenacity.
Slowly, father-in-law’s voice became stronger and stronger. Muħammad Ålī’s voice almost ceased to exist.
Finally, everything fell silent.
I heard the door open.
I quickly moved to my bed.
Muħammad Ålī came in.
His face was pale like a ghost’s.
He stared at me for a Moment and turned his gaze.
I could see defeat in his eyes.
I felt hurt.
Although I had been cheating on him, I still loved him.
He was my first love.
However, I didn’t have the courage to ask about what happened in his father’s room.
Muħammad Ålī avoided my gaze.
He silently got on the bed, moved to near where Rehaana and Shama were sleeping.
He lay beside them and pulled the covers to hide his face.
My husband had again failed to stand up to his father.
I turned off the lights and tried to sleep.
I couldn’t sleep that night.
In the morning, Muħammad Ålī got up early and went to the shop without eating his breakfast.
He didn’t even talk to me.
Father-in-law was again leering at the kitchen door.
The memories of last night were still alive in my mind.
He looked unfazed despite everything. He barged into the kitchen and grabbed my waist.
“No…” I said angrily trying to get free from his clutches. “Not today…”
“Why? Now there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He said happily, forcing his hand between my thighs and caressing my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
I recoiled back, trying to avoid his pressing palm into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
“I’ve explained everything to Muħammad Ålī. He won’t trouble you now. Now you can enjoy without any fear.”
Durgesh forced his hand inside my salwaar; pulled the cord and undid it.
Then he let it fall of the floor.
“No… No… I can’t.” I cried again fumbling in his hands.
“Come on darling, now I can fuck you openly.” Durgesh said hoarsely as his hands pushed my panties down my thighs.
He forced me to bend forward a little and pushed his hand between my naked thighs from behind feeling my trimmed Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
I squirmed as his Uncut Hindu Penis entered my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
He began to move his Uncut Hindu Penis in and out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I thought about Muħammad Ålī; the way he looked after returning from his father’s room.
I felt pity for him.
Durgesh began fucking at a harder pace.
A wave of lust began to descend upon me.
I could feel my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy starting to flow.
The thought of Muħammad Ålī disappeared from my mind as I began to moan under his manipulation.
Durgesh smiled sensing my arousal.
He withdrew his Uncut Hindu Penis from my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
He dragged me with him to the veranda; near the dining table.
He undid my kameez and bra and made me completely naked.
He lifted me in his hands.
My ass gently touched the edge of the dining table as he lowered me on it.
I leaned back slightly, causing my tits to jut up.
Durgesh bent his head and eagerly began to kiss my tits.
I closed my eyes and moaned loudly.
I had completely forgotten about my husband and eagerly enjoyed Durgesh’s lips over my tits.
He sucked my nipples, alternating between them, driving me crazy with lust.
I wriggled my ass over the table.
I bit my lips to keep from screaming with pleasure, sucking his great Uncut Hindu Penis.
Durgesh lifted my legs and placed them over his shoulders to get a better access to my dripping Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I shoved my face deep into Durgesh.
I shuddered with pleasure, arching my body a little more.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt violently throbbed around his Uncut Hindu Penis.
He removed his Uncut Hindu Penis out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and stood up.
He grabbed my ass pulling me to the very edge of the table.
He grabbed the bulbous head of his Uncut Hindu Cock and guided it to my dripping opening.
He lunged forward and forced his massive Uncut Hindu Cock deep inside me.
I squealed with pleasure burying my face into his shoulder.
Durgesh grabbed my ass firmly and started fucking me.
His hips were moving as fast as he could move them.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was on fire, with every massive Hindu thrust making me even hornier, demanding more and more.
Over and over, Durgesh pumped his Uncut Hindu Cock into my inflamed Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
Beads of perspiration began to trickle down his neck, yet he continued ramming his Uncut Hindu Cock into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy ever faster. Harder and harder, He fucked me with all his Hindu might.
As his orgasm neared, Durgesh even furthered his humping.
He was groaning and grunting incoherently.
Finally, he bucked his ass muscles, forced his Uncut Hindu Cock deep into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and began to plant his Hindu seed once again into me.
I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock throb and throb inside me and gob after gob of his Hindu cum inundated my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
I dug my nails into his back and clutched his waist between my legs to hold every drop of his Hindu semen.
Father-in-law buried his sweat covered-face between my tits as he tried to catch his erratic breath.
His Uncut Hindu Cock ceased spurting but it remained buried inside me.
Finally, he straightened up, and pulled his Uncut Hindu Cock from my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy , slick with his own Hindu cum and my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy juice.
Durgesh left me in a dazed state as he moved back.
His fuck cream began to seep out of my freshly fucked Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
I slipped off the table and stood by it.
Durgesh took his tahmed from the chair, and I stared as his cum slick flaccid Uncut Hindu Cock disappeared behind the veil of his tahmed.
His fuck cream was still oozing out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
Father-in-law pointed at the puddle of cum on the table that had oozed out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
“Don’t forget to clean that.” He smiled with satisfaction.
I looked at him with delirious eyes but said nothing.
He went back to his room.
I stood near the table, looking at his back.
Slowly, I got back to my senses.
The handsome face of my husband again appeared before my eyes.
A deep sense of self loathing began to descend upon me as I began to dress.
Muħammad Ålī arrived late in the night.
When I served him dinner, he ate silently.
After dinner, he went to the bedroom immediately.
I stayed in the kitchen, finished my work, and went to the room very late.
Muħammad Ålī was lying on the bed, his face hidden under the covers.
I locked the room and was about to switch off the lights when there was a knock on the door.
“Muħammad Ålī…” Durgesh called from the other side of the door.
Muħammad Ålī lifted the covers off his face and looked at the door but didn’t reply.
“Muħammad Ålī…” Durgesh called again.
He stared at me, but remained silent.
I stared at him not knowing whether to respond to Durgesh ’s call or not.
An unusual silence filled the room.
I didn’t know why his Hindu father was calling him at such late hour, yet my heartbeat began to quicken.
“Send Suraiyah Jamāl to my room.” Father-in-law shouted from behind the door, “I need a massage.”
Stunned, I looked at my husband.
He was also staring at me, still motionless.
It was a strange request; no, it was not a request; it was an order.
My father-in-law was asking my husband to send me to his room.
I hadn’t any doubt that my husband understood very well what kind of massage his father wanted from me.
“I… I can’t come.” I stammered looking at my husband.
“Muħammad Ålī…” Father-in-law shouted again, this time little louder.
“Go…” Muħammad Ålī said.
“What did you say?” I looked at him, completely taken aback by his words.
“I said, ‘go’.” He said angrily, and turned his back towards me.
I stared at his back in disbelief.
“Suraiyah Jamāl… are you coming?” Durgesh spoke again from behind the door, “I’m waiting in my room.”
He must have heard what Muħammad Ålī had just said.
I thought for a Moment, and then looked back at my husband.
He was lying with his back towards me.
He didn’t have anything to say.
“I’ll be there in a minute.” was all I could utter.
I heard his footstep as he moved away from the door.
Again, I turned back, and stared at my Musalmān husband.
His face was now hidden under the covers.
In a daze, I opened the door and went out.
Durgesh was standing at his door waiting for me.
He smiled and gestured to come to his room and he went inside.
I closed my bedroom’s door gently, crossed the open courtyard to his room.
I pushed the curtains and looked inside.
Durgesh was sprawled on his bed, stark naked, playing with his Uncut Hindu dick.
His lips were spread in a lecherous smile.
“Come on Suraiyah Jamāl, take off your clothes and join me.” He winked at me, “We’ll massage each other the entire night.”
I watched him incredulously.
I was still unable to believe what was happening.
“I… I…” I didn’t know how to ask him.
My mind was perplexed with the course of events,
“What is this?”
Father-in-law gave me a lecherous grin,
“I told you in the morning… Muħammad Ålī will never stop you now. I’ve explained everything to him.”
I stared at him incredulously.
Screwing father-in-law was somewhat okay when Muħammad Ålī was not home.
I had been doing it for the last three months.
But now, my husband was lying wide awake in our bedroom; how could I do it?
“Hurry up.” Durgesh turned on the bed, impatiently.
“But… I… I…” I stammered, not knowing what to say.
“Stop worrying; Muħammad Ålī won’t disturb us.” He gave me a winning smile.
He knew what he was talking about. His fist moved rigorously over the length of his Uncut Hindu Cock,
“Lock the door and come here. I’m gonna fuck you this whole night.”
I stared at him, and then looked back toward my room with its doors partially closed.
I looked back to my Hindu father-in-law.
He smiled and gestured with his eyes to join him on the bed.
I took a deep breath, closed the door, and began to strip.
Durgesh watched me all the while stroking his massive Uncut Hindu Cock .
When completely naked, I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.
I wrapped my fingers around the girth of his Uncut Hindu Cock , letting my hand move up and down along his Hindu hard on.
“Suck me Suraiyah Jamāl…” Durgesh shifted on the bed making room for me.
I climbed on and settled beside him, my hand still gripping his Uncut Hindu Cock.
I got on all fours and brought my head to his Uncut Hindu Cock.
I stuck out my tongue and flicked at the droplet of precum oozing from the tiny hole.
Durgesh squealed with delight.
I stopped sucking and looked into his eyes.
“I still can’t believe…”
“Muħammad Ålī himself told me to come here.” I flicked my tongue over the tiny pee hole.
“I told you he won’t stop you.” He said triumphantly.
I lowered my head and took the bloated head of his Uncut Hindu Cock between my lips.
His finger poked into my sphincter.
“He knows that I’m the boss here.”
I ran my tongue over his Uncut Hindu Cock head, and I felt it twitch.
“Now you’re my whore Suraiyah Jamāl; now I can fuck you anytime.” Durgesh was smiling.
“Even in the front of Muħammad Ålī.”
He pushed his index finger deep into my sphincter making me whimper with a mild pain.
He forced his finger up to his knuckle and started finger fucking my ass.
It was a completely new feeling.
He had touched me there before, but never inserted his finger into my anus.
By now, I had his Uncut Hindu Cock in my mouth and was deeply sucking on it.
Durgesh groaned with pleasure.
I sucked the swollen crown and then started licking along the length of his pulsating Hindu shaft.
I could feel my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy heating up, and my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt juices began to flow.
Any thought of my own Musalmān husband, wide awake in my bedroom, evaporated from my mind.
All I was aware of was a mammoth Hindu hardness so lovingly trapped between my soft Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān lips, a thick index finger moving in and out of my ass, and a growing itch between my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips.
My tongue was licking the base of his Uncut Hindu Cock , slowly licking the thick bush at the joint and the heavy sack dangling beneath.
Finally, I took one of his balls between my lips and sucked it hard.
Durgesh groaned and writhed on the bed with rapture.
“Suraiyah Jamāl uuuuuuuuuuuu… ahhhhhhhhhh…”
He placed his hand over my head and forced it into his Hindu crotch.
He pulled his finger out of my anus. Then he grabbed my waist and pulled it towards his face.
“Suraiyah Jamāl, get on top of me.” He groaned heavily.
I didn’t exactly understand what he wanted and stopped sucking his Uncut Hindu Cock .
He reached for my legs and helped me settle my lower body over his face.
Now my face was directly over his Uncut Hindu Cock , and my dripping Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was above his face.
Durgesh caressed my full ass with his fingers, and then explored my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
He grabbed my ass and pulled my hips down.
He kissed my inner thighs gently.
Finally, he planted a deep kiss directly on the fat lips of my creamy Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
The head of his Uncut Hindu Cock touched my throat, and for a Moment I was afraid that I might gag.
I eased it out a little and sucked it hard.
Anyway, later, my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt would take his complete length with much ease; I thought with relief.
I began humping my hips up and down.
I forgot what I had been doing and enjoyed the new feeling… so terrific it was almost mind-boggling.
I lowered my head and resumed sucking his Uncut Hindu Cock more fervently.
Durgesh was gyrating his hips below me.
He began pumping his Uncut Hindu Cock into my mouth as if fucking a Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I knew if he continued like that, I wouldn’t be able to stop my climax.
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
30. Sālī, Ammījān!
44. Hell, I revolt
64. I live with him
73. Under Open Sky
79. The Extent
More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:
13. Eidul Fitr-1
18. Main térī dīvānī
Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi:
18. Saamved: Mantr 1
The Punishment to my enemy
An unwanted affair
Ammījān and her son 2
The next morning was hectic as usual.
I helped my kids get ready for school, cooked and packed their Tiffin’s, and saw them off when the school bus arrived. By that time, Muħammad Ålī was also ready.
He hurriedly ate his breakfast, and went out.
Father-in-law didn’t join us for breakfast.
He came out of his room much later. His eyes were red.
What was he doing last night? Was he fucking Muħammad Ålī’s Ammījān with his Uncut Hindu Cock while thinking about me?
My face turned crimson at the thought.
I cursed myself.
Why was I thinking such evil thoughts?
I must be losing my mind.
Father-in-law ate his breakfast silently.
After that, he immediately retired to his room.
The housemaid arrived little late that day.
I gave her instructions and she began mopping the floor.
I casually talked with her.
I kept glancing in the direction of my father-in-law’s room.
The doors were shut.
The housemaid finished her work and left.
I locked the front door and went back to the kitchen.
About fifteen minutes later, I heard his door open.
Father-in-law came out of his room. He was in his tahmed with a towel hanging over his shoulder.
He crossed the open courtyard and walked toward the common bath.
I avoided looking at him directly, I watched him go into the bathroom from the corner of my eyes.
For a Moment, yesterday’s event became alive before my eyes.
I shrugged my head trying to fend off the thought.
In a short while, I heard the sound of water.
Father-in-law was taking his shower. He took his shower and then silently went back to his room.
Relaxed, I got myself busy with my daily chores.
After about fifteen minutes, I heard him calling my name,
“Yes?” I replied unwillingly.
“Can you come over here?”
“No. Tell me what you want.” I shouted in a loud irritated voice.
He didn’t reply, instead he came out of his room and walked directly into the kitchen,
“I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t.” I was suddenly angry.
“Don’t be angry; we can talk this out.”
“I told you that I don’t want to talk to you.” I retorted in anger, “Get out.”
His face turned red with anger.
He was about to burst, but he controlled himself,
“Listen… Suraiyah… don’t be angry.”
“Get out of here.” I shouted at the top of my voice, “I haven’t told Muħammad Ålī anything yet, but if you don’t leave now, I’ll tell him today.”
His face dropped a little.
He stared at me.
“Get out.” I yelled again, feeling more confident, “Get out.”
His expressions changed suddenly.
His eyes became bloodshot with rage,
“You bitch.” He fumed, “No one talk to me like this in my house.”
Taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, I moved backward.
He lunged at me.
I tried to dodge him, but he was fast.
He grabbed my arm.
“What’re you doing? Let me go.” I cried, struggling to get free from his grip.
I tried to break his grip, unsuccessfully.
He took me to his room and dropped me on his bed.
“Now slut, what were you saying?” Tears of humiliation swelled in my eyes.
“What do you want?”
“To fuck you.” He gave me a lewd grin.
I was stunned that such crude words were coming from the mouth of my ‘father-in-law’.
“No, please let me go.” I tried to get off his bed; but he grabbed me again and pushed me back on his bed.
“I… I… will tell Muħammad Ålī.” As a final resort, I tried to threaten him hoping that it would work.
It made him even angrier,
“Listen you slut,” his voice suddenly filled with menacing tone, “Do you really think Muħammad Ålī can save you from me?”
I gave him a terrified look; nothing came out of my lips.
“Don’t have any misgivings… I can kick you all out of my house… right now. What would he do then?”
A morbid fear began to grip me.
“Muħammad Ålī’s good for nothing, you know that; you know it very well.” Father-in-law chewed every word he spoke, “If I kick you out, do you think he’ll be able to look after you?”
Tears began to stream down my cheeks,
“Please let me go, I’m like your daughter.” I pleaded.
“I can’t have any daughter, you slut,” his eyes were burning with an unfathomable lust, “I don’t have X Chromosomes even. You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming about you, from the day I first saw you naked.”
I stared at his lust filled face.
I didn’t know what he was talking about.
When did he see me nude?
I couldn’t recall.
“Listen… Suraiyah…” His voice was suddenly softer, “Just give me what I want. I’ll give you everything you need.”
“No, I can’t.” I sobbed, “Please let me go.” Deep in my heart, I was aware that he was probably correct.
With his delicate disposition, I doubted that he would be able to look after us if thrown out of his father’s house.
I dared not think what would happen if I had to move out of the house.
He sensed my resignation,
“What’s your decision?”
“What do you want?” I gave him a resigned look.
His lips spread in a leering smile,
“Still pretending… bitch.” He pushed me back on the bed.
He brought his hand between my legs.
He fumbled to locate the cord of my salwar and when he found it, he undid it.
He then grabbed the cloth and pushed it off my thighs.
“No… please don’t.” I cried in shame.
I closed my eyes in utter shame.
Tears rolled out of eyes and disappeared into my hair.
He pulled the salwar off my leg and tossed it aside.
I felt it groping at my knickers. Without waiting, he pulled them off too.
Durgesh then lifted the hem of my kurta and exposed my naked Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
I opened my eyes for a fraction of second.
His bulging eyes were glued to my exposed Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
He was slowly wetting his lips with his tongue.
My face turned red with utmost shame and disgust.
I had never been so lecherously exposed even to my husband in my ten years of married life.
We fucked mostly with all the lights off.
Muħammad Ålī liked it that way and I never thought beyond that.
I couldn’t recollect many occasions when Muħammad Ålī had seen me completely naked.
I was lying on my father-in-law’s bed with my lower half completely bare, my father-in-law lustily gazing at my hairy Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
He had taken his Uncut Hindu Cock out of his tahmed and was stroking it with his left hand.
My heart was beating like a drum.
I crossed my legs in a vain attempt to hide my hairy Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt from his lecherous Hindu gaze.
He watched this with an amazed look in his eyes.
His left hand still stroking his Uncut Hindu Cock , he undid his tahmed.
It fell on the floor.
I closed my eyes again.
I felt his hand roaming over my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy slowly.
He forced my legs apart and spread them wide.
Then his fingers touched my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
He spread my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips.
“Come on… enjoy it, Suraiyah!”
“I’m sure you’re not getting it for the first time.” He whispered in my ear and then laughed lecherously.
His fingers continued rummaging through my bushy Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt,
“Oh… Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā … what a Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy !” He muttered to himself.
He withdrew his hand from my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt and positioned himself between my wide spread legs.
He took his Uncut Hindu Cock in his fist and began running the inflated head over my slit.
My mind began to revolt again.
This place was reserved only for my beloved Musalmān husband, and now it was being violated so wantonly by none other than his own Hindu ‘father’.
“No!” I tried to push him back.
He laughed like a maniac and grabbed me again, pinning me on the bed.
I continued struggling but soon realized that I was no match for his brutal Hindu strength.
I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock head nudging between my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy lips.
Durgesh leaned forward, brought my both hands together over my head and grabbed them with his right hand.
His left hand was now free.
His powerful Hindu legs pressed my struggling Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān legs relentlessly, stifling my resistance. With his free hand, he gripped his Uncut Hindu Cock , and placed the tip at the entrance of my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
I felt my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy lips spread to accommodate the intruding Hindu organ.
He pushed forward.
His Uncut Hindu Cock entered mercilessly inside my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
His Uncut Hindu Cock must be too much thicker than Muħammad Ålī’s tool. The pain caused my eyes to open.
I found his face just above mine, staring into my eyes.
When he found me looking in his eyes, he smiled lewdly and gave a massive thrust.
His mammoth Hindu hardness tore into me.
“No… please,” I wailed with pain, “please take it out… it’s hurting.”
Durgesh laughed triumphantly, happy for his prized win,
“Stop crying, it’s already in dear.”
He bent his head and kissed me.
Then he withdrew his Uncut Hindu Cock until only the tip remained inside.
The pain eased a little.
I yelled again.
“Aah… Suraiyah darling… what a tight Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.” He gave me a lecherous grin.
Realizing that he would not listen to my cries; I resigned myself to my fate.
Durgesh fucked me harder and harder.
Slowly the pain began to ease off; my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt got adjusted to his savage Hindu thrusting.
His rough thrusting Uncut Hindu Cock tickled some unknown nerves and my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy began to lubricate.
Durgesh had a kind of strange raw animal energy, which I had never felt before with Muħammad Ålī.
He was groaning and panting with effort.
His face and body were covered with perspiration.
Yet, he showed no sign of relenting.
Durgesh continued fucking my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy, with every stroke, his humping got more and more ferocious.
He fucked me non stop all the rest of the day and night continuously.
I felt it was my real golden night.
Muħammad Ålī was a child in sex as compared with Durgesh.
Finally, Durgesh cried loudly, and plunged his Uncut Hindu Cock all the way inside my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I felt his Uncut Hindu Cock swell inside me, jerk violently and spurt his hot molten Hindu seed inside the soft folds of my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
It felt like a hot geyser opening inside me, inundating my soft enclave.
Completely spent, Durgesh slumped over me; his face pressed between my breasts which were still hidden beneath the kurta.
He was panting with the effort.
Surprisingly, I could also hear my own heavy breathing.
His Uncut Hindu Cock began to deflate inside me, but he made no attempt to take it out.
When he didn’t try to move away, I pushed him back.
Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Cock came out with a loud plop sound.
His thick Uncut Hindu Cock juice that was ’till now trapped inside, began to ooze out of my hairy Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
Durgesh collapsed on me.
I got off his bed hurriedly.
He looked at me with half opened eyes; did nothing to stop me.
I picked up my salwar and knickers from the floor.
Before coming out of his room, I turned back and looked at him.
His eyes were open, and he wore a lazy look.
His lips were spread in a winning smile as he watched me go out.
I entered my bedroom and rushed to the bathroom.
Quickly, I undressed by removing my kurta and bra.
I realized that my body was still trembling.
In a matter of minutes, my whole world had changed.
I had been raped by my husband’s Hindu ‘father’.
I didn’t know how I would face Muħammad Ålī tonight.
What would I tell him?
Could I tell him what his father did to me?
I sat on the bathroom floor, folded my leg close to my thighs and rested my head over my knees.
Tears began to streak down my eyes.
I knew that I could not tell Muħammad Ålī of what had happened with me.
I should have told him on the first occasion itself.
I cursed myself.
Now he wouldn’t take the news easily.
Although he loved me but he would not accept me for fucking his father.
No… I wouldn’t tell him.
I don’t know how long I stayed there.
Finally, I got up, and wiped my face clearing the tears from my eyes.
I washed my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt, then opened the bathroom door and came out.
Father-in-law was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom.
His legs were wide open, and he was sporting another massive erection.
In my rush, I had forgotten to lock my room’s door.
“You shouldn’t have left,” Durgesh smiled lecherously, “I still need you.”
Frozen with shock, I stared at him incredulously.
“Look,” he pointed toward his hard on, “He’s still hungry.”
“No… Not again.” I mumbled, “Please get out.”
He didn’t listen to me; rose from his position and came near to me.
“No… No…” I resisted.
Durgesh pushed me on the bed.
“I’ll tell Muħammad Ålī.” I said meekly.
“No… won’t.” He began stroking his already rigid Uncut Hindu Cock , “You tell Muħammad Ålī… and I’ll throw you out.”
I looked at him like a terrified kitten. Father-in-law sat on the edge,
“You’ll like it Suraiyah darling… believe me…you’ll like it.” His voice was suddenly soft, “I’ll make you very happy.”
“No… I can’t do it… please.” I made a meek effort to stop him.
“No but…” He gently brushed his hand over my wet bush. “Muħammad Ålī will never know about it… I promise you.”
I didn’t know whether to believe him or not.
Father-in-law began rubbing my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I squeezed my thighs.
I was sure that his poking Uncut Hindu Penis must have sensed the twitching in my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
My face turned red.
I closed my eyes with shame.
I opened my eyes and stared at him.
He put his hand over my thigh and pushed.
As if, my body accepted his command, my knees fell apart, allowing him full view of my wet Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy . Durgesh lustily gazed at my hairy slit while licking his lips.
With his free hand, he started stroking his bulging Uncut Hindu Cock.
His fingers massaged around my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips and clit; my body began to buck with pleasure.
The copious secretion from my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt began to ooze out, slowly seeping down to my puckered hole.
I wanted to stop him… wanted to move his hand off my clit.
I realized if he kept rubbing my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt like that, I would succumb to the pleasure and nothing would stop me from cumming.
I was slowly losing my self- control; my body responding more eagerly to his manipulations.
‘Get off you scum’ — I wanted to scream.
I opened my lips. All that came out was a loud whimper. “Ahhhhhhh…” I gave a long moan, my body became tense; my body reeled with a mind blowing orgasm.
I squeezed my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt around his Uncut Hindu Penis tightly and went into total spasm.
Durgesh groaned happily.
Immediately, he withdrew his Uncut Hindu Penis and moved to between my legs.
He positioned himself and grabbed his Uncut Hindu Cock again in his fist.
I was mesmerized by the purple-colored, bloated Uncut Hindu Cock -head which had a tiny drop of pre-cum at the tip.
Again, a silent battle ensued between my mind and body.
It stayed motionless… with fear or lust, I didn’t know.
His Uncut Hindu Cock nudged between my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips.
Durgesh slowly pushed his Uncut Hindu Cock into me.
“No…” I cried; but my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt readily accepted the intruding Hindu organ.
I felt a gentle twinge, a faint memory of our previous fuck, as his Uncut Hindu Cock moved inside my slippery canal.
His Uncut Hindu Cock was completely buried in me with one smooth push.
Durgesh smiled happily, looking at me with his lust filled eyes,
“You like it darling… you like it.” He began fucking me again with long Hindu strokes.
I lay beneath him silently, receiving his gigantic Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
My own response was completely different from the first time.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was responding very eagerly.
“Suraiyah…” Durgesh spoke hoarsely.
“You like my Uncut Hindu Cock inside your Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt… don’t you.”
“No… ahhh… ahhh…” My mind was reeling with pleasure, but I was not ready to accept it yet.
He was my rapist.
I didn’t do it willingly; he forced me to do it.
Grabbing my legs, he lifted them high in the air, and began fucking me harder.
In and out, in and out… his massive Uncut Hindu Cock bore into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy , making it beg for more.
I didn’t realize when I started moaning.
Durgesh pumped harder and harder.
My Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy clutched tightly around his Hindu shaft.
Durgesh was panting with the effort.
I thirstily waited for him to erupt inside me again.
48 hours later, he reached his climax.
I could not believe.
Yet, it was true.
Durgesh rammed his Uncut Hindu Cock inside for the final time.
His spitting Uncut Hindu Cock pumped hot Hindu cum deep into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
It drove me over the edge.
I dug my fingers into the material of bed sheet to prevent me fainting with rapture.
He emptied his balls deep, then slowly got off me.
His Hindu cum began to ooze out of my freshly fucked Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
I didn’t move, closed my eyes and enjoyed the blissful Moment.
When I opened my eyes, Durgesh was sitting on the edge of my bed.
He was gently stroking them.
He looked at me and smiled,
“Don’t say anything to Muħammad Ålī.” He was smiling, but the threat was very clear, “I’ll make you very happy.”
I gave him a delirious look, but didn’t speak.
He got up, gave a final pat to my naked thigh and went out of the room.
He didn’t even close the door behind him.
I watched him going, suddenly realizing that my bed was soaked because when he dragged me to bed, I was fresh out of the shower.
I didn’t feel any hurry.
I realized that I would never be able to tell the truth to Muħammad Ålī.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was sore when I went to my bedroom that night.
Muħammad Ålī arrived early that evening.
I served dinner to them– Muħammad Ålī, his father and the kids.
Father-in-law was very talkative.
He joked with the kids and discussed business with Muħammad Ålī.
He even advised him to bring some gift for me the next day.
During dinner, I avoided going out to the veranda and stayed mostly in the safety of my kitchen.
I was afraid to face my husband in front of his father.
I was worried that he would read on my face what had transpired between his Hindu ‘father’ and me during the day.
The kids were already asleep when I entered my bedroom.
Muħammad Ålī was awake–waiting for me.
I avoided eye contact, turned off the lights and silently slipped into the bed beside him.
I lay with my back toward him.
I felt his hand over me, and he pulled me into his arms.
“No… Not today… I’m tired.” I told him.
He didn’t seem to listen.
His hands began to explore my private parts, and he began to strip me.
I had no courage to stop him.
I lay there silently letting him remove my clothes.
Once I was completely naked, he began to strip.
Then I felt him between my legs.
His cut Cock tip nudged at my opening which was smarting due to morning fuck.
I wanted to ask him to stop, afraid that he would immediately come to know about my infidelity.
Muħammad Ålī tried to push his cut Cock into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
The tip forced against my sore inner lips.
He took it as a sign of acceptance, and he pushed harder.
It didn’t go inside.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was completely dry.
Failing to insert his cut Cock into me, he withdrew it and replaced it with his tongue.
His tongue entered my aching Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt, and he began tongue fucking me.
I lay still under him while his tongue moved in and out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
His efforts began to pay off Moments later.
I felt the sensation and my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy started lubricating.
Only then I realized why my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy was hurting so much after the morning fuck.
When Durgesh fucked me in the morning; I was afraid and was not ready for the fuck.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was completely dry when he rammed his Uncut Hindu Cock in mercilessly, making it feel like a virgin Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
I began to relish Muħammad Ålī’s slow tongue fucking.
Soon, my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was dripping wet.
Muħammad Ålī withdrew his tongue and again planted the tip of his cut Cock at the dripping entrance of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
He pushed lightly.
His cut Cock moved easily into my slick Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy . He inched forward, slowly inserting the entire length of his cut Cock deep into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy , his balls coming to rest against my ass.
He began fucking me with a slow rhythm.
I enjoyed his deep rhythmic fucking. My mind drifted to my father-in-law. I tried to compare the two men who had fucked me.
Muħammad Ålī was a delicate lover, gentle and caring.
Fucking Muħammad Ålī always gave me an impression of being handled with utmost care.
He never rushed, never tried to force it, and always fucked me in slow and deliberate manner.
My morning experience with his Hindu father was exactly the opposite.
Durgesh was like an animal in bed, wild and savage.
He fucked me so hard that my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was still aching.
He didn’t bother to work my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy for some lubrication.
I felt disgusted when he began fucking me but when he finished; my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt, although hurting from his animal onslaught, was silently begging for more.
I had never been fucked like that before.
Again, I recalled the morning fuck.
My Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy began to ooze aplenty.
I moaned lightly.
Muħammad Ålī groaned happily hearing my muffled moans while his cut Cock sliced into my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
He was panting with the effort.
I felt ashamed for thinking about Durgesh while my husband was making love to me.
I shrugged myself out of my reverie and began humping back at the pistoning cut Cock .
Muħammad Ålī found me responding. He increased his pumping.
He was fast approaching his climax. Finally, he grunted loudly, and lunged forward.
He buried his cut Cock deep into my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy and erupted inside me.
His cut Cock spurted again and again and flooded my womb with his love juice. Slowly, the jerking receded and then ceased altogether.
He gently pulled his soft cut Cock out of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
Breathing heavily, he rolled off me and slumped on my side.
I slipped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom.
I pissed and washed my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt thoroughly, dried my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt lips and wet bush with a towel.
Then I put my clothes on.
When I returned, Muħammad Ålī was snoring.
I lay beside him silently, closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
In a single day, I had been fucked by two men.
Two different Cock s had deposited their seeds inside my womb.
I had been raped and loved on the same day.
Two people… so different from each other… one a gentle lover… the other like a wild animal.
I should hate the animal for what he did to me.
But, did I… really?
Today, something had changed inside me.
My body longed to relive that pleasure again, to feel that animal energy penetrating my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān body, the brutal thrusting and massive force of ejaculation inundating my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy.
I squirmed on the bed, squeezing my thighs, trying to stop the sudden flow of wetness seeping from my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
When I finally drifted to sleep, I was soaking wet between my legs.
The first thing I noticed in the morning was that the soreness was replaced by a very mild, gentle Prickling sensation, a faint reminder of what had transpired yesterday.
The morning passed in the usual way.
I sent the kids to school and cooked breakfast for Muħammad Ålī and his father.
Father-in-law came out of his room only when the breakfast was ready.
He looked fresh and gave me a nasty grin.
Red with embarrassment, I avoided his gaze, and served the breakfast.
They ate ravenously while I served the tea.
After breakfast, Muħammad Ålī changed and was ready for the shop.
He took instructions from his father, collected his Tiffin and went out.
I was now alone in the house.
Father-in-law had already retired to his room.
He was watching some news channel.
I could hear the sound of a news reader reading the morning news.
I paced in the kitchen; a strange nervousness gripped me.
My heart began to beat faster.
I expected him to come out of his room, grab me, take me to his room and fuck me hard.
I was suddenly flushed.
Holy shit…I cursed myself for my lustful thinking.
I must hate that Hindu for ruining my life…
the evil man who had violated me like an animal.
A fight within my conscience ensued.
My body responded in an entirely different way.
Someone knocked at the front door.
When I opened it, the housemaid was standing there.
To my surprise, I didn’t like her presence although it was her regular routine.
I accompanied her to the kitchen and gave her the instructions.
While she was busy mopping the floor, I stood by the kitchen door and looked in the direction of my Hindu father-in-law’s room.
He seemed busy listening to the morning news, but I was sure that he must be looking at me from some hidden corner.
The maid finished her work.
I walked her to the door and locked it.
I was breathing heavily.
Anytime now father-in-law would come out and grab me in his arms.
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt twitched with a strange anticipation.
“How can I do this?” I felt ashamed about my lewd thoughts.
I heard Shama cry.
I rushed to my bedroom, took her in my arm and breast-fed her.
She was soon asleep.
I came out of my room.
I picked up the noise of the shower running in the common bathroom.
“Suraiyah…” I heard Durgesh shout from the bathroom.
“I forgot my towel,” He said loudly, “Please give it to me.”
“Help yourself.” I realized that my voice was quivering.
“I am naked… can’t come out… please get it.” He shouted from the bathroom; I could feel the taunt in his voice.
I went to his room, took his towel from his bed and walked to the bathroom door.
I gently tapped on the door,
The door opened immediately.
I extended my hand with the towel while looking away from him.
“What’re you doing Suraiyah?… hand it properly.”
I turned my head.
“Look what happens to me every time I see you.” Durgesh smiled lecherously as he twitched his strong abdominal muscles to cause his Uncut Hindu Cock to bounce up and down.
I could not avoid looking at the thick Hindu rod that was swinging so majestically.
Durgesh moved forward, grabbed my hand and dragged me into his arms.
“Let me go.” I tried to resist unsuccessfully, “Please.”
The cold water from shower fell over our heated bodies.
I could feel his raging hard on poking into my belly through my wet clothes.
He began to take my clothes off.
“No… Please don’t.” I offered a half hearted resistance, “Let me go.”
Durgesh didn’t seem to listen to me.
One by one, he undid my kurta and salwar.
First, he pulled my kurta over my head.
He then unhooked my bra exposing my full breast and hard nipples.
He carelessly dropped the bra on the floor.
Shivering with shame, I cupped my tits in a frail attempt to hide my nudity from him.
He didn’t pay any attention and proceeded to undo my salwar.
Next Moment, my salwar was on the floor and I was standing there in nothing but my panties.
Durgesh groaned happily at my predicament, slipped his fingers into my panties and rolled them down my thighs.
Trembling feverishly, I covered my tits with one hand and tried to cover my bushy Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt with the other.
Durgesh’s lips spread in a lewd smile.
He took my hands and forced them apart exposing my tits and Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
“You’re gorgeous, Suraiyah Jamāl.” His voice was hoarse with lust.
My body melted in his Hindu arms.
My swollen and hard nipples pressed against his Hindu chest.
I felt his erect Uncut Hindu Cock and balls rubbing against my tummy.
My Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy was dripping with anticipation.
All thoughts of remorse suddenly evaporated.
I realized I was no longer nervous but ready.
He brought his Hindu lips down and kissed me.
I readily accepted his advance and returned his kiss.
His tongue probed my mouth as his hand kneaded the big halves of my ass.
We kissed passionately.
I had forgotten that it was totally forbidden for me.
If the truth came out, I would have no place in this society.
I would lose my husband, children… everything that life had given me so far.
I would become a pariah.
Nonetheless, in the heat of the Moment, none of this came to my mind.
All I wanted was that magnificent Uncut Hindu Cock plundering my hungry Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
Durgesh seemed to understand my desire.
He took my hand and placed it over his Uncut Hindu Cock .
Under the falling water from the shower, it felt like a burning rod of steel, strong and thick.
He inserted a digit into my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
I moaned with delight.
He fucked me with his finger.
His finger was thick, almost like a Uncut Hindu Cock .
My Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt willingly accepted the intruding digit and clasped it in its velvety enclave.
I was breathing hard with passion.
His moving finger inside my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was doing miracles, causing my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt to beg for more.
I felt my warm Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt juices soaking his finger.
He drove me crazy with desire.
I desperately wanted his thick rigid Hindu tool between my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy lips.
Durgesh brought his mouth to my soft nipples.
I realized that if I didn’t let him fuck me, I would die of my extreme desire.
“Ahhhhhhhhh…” I heard myself moaning.
I wanted to tell him that it felt so good, but the words got stuck in my mouth.
Durgesh alternated between my tits, kissing both nipples one by one.
He gave equal attention to each of my tits.
His sucking became rougher.
I began to whimper and squirm; my hand tightly squeezed and released his Uncut Hindu Cock .
He let go my tits and began kissing me on my stomach.
I felt his tongue probing into my belly button.
His tongue moved further down toward the hairy mound of my Meccan Saůūdī Årab Musalmān pussy .
Then I felt my tongue sliding over his bushy Hindu groins.
It was an entirely new experience.
For a second, I thought that I would die with rapture.
Muħammad Ålī had never kissed me down there where Durgesh was kissing now.
I had never enjoyed the bliss of oral sex though I was vaguely aware of the fact that some people do things like that.
“What… what are you doing?” I moaned– never wanting him to stop.
My body shuddered as a sudden flash of pleasure shot through my body.
I arched my back and cried out.
My thighs were trembling violently.
My hand fumbled to hold something on the wall to prevent myself from collapsing.
I raised my hands and groped for the shower’s pipe.
I grabbed it with both hands.
Supporting my load against the pipe, I spread my legs further.
I was afraid I might come before Durgesh even started fucking me.
I squirmed my thighs.
I wondered how Durgesh would fuck me as there wasn’t enough space in the bathroom.
I expected him to take me out to his bedroom.
However, Durgesh had other plans.
He pushed the bucket and a small plastic tub to one corner, then grabbed me by my hips and helped me settle on the limited space on the bathroom floor.
It was an awkward position as my legs were high and resting against the wall.
He positioned himself between my legs and lowered himself.
I watched deliriously as he lowered his Hindu waist.
I felt his fingers holding his Uncut Hindu Cock as he fumbled at the opening.
He found the right place and planted the tip.
Then he pushed forward.
His thick Uncut Hindu Cock moved easily in my dripping Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt.
He didn’t have to make any further efforts as my Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Cunt was well lubricated.
Durgesh lowered his hips until the entire length of his Uncut Hindu Cock was buried inside me.
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
30. Sālī, Ammījān!
44. Hell, I revolt
64. I live with him
73. Under Open Sky
79. The Extent
More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:
13. Eidul Fitr-1
18. Main térī dīvānī
Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi: