1: Of my Musalmān friends
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s own breath was increasing and she mumbled into my mouth,
“You like that, huh?”
“Uh huh” I was back into her mouth.
“Then you’re going to love this.” With that she pressed on my chest as she looked into my eyes and sat back.
I settled back onto my butt.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm hooked her fingers into my waistband, tugging downward.
I helped her out by pushing them down and lifting up off the blanket.
As she finished pulling them off my legs, I grabbed two of her pillows, put them behind me, and lay back on them.
There I was in my t-shirt and boxer shorts.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm was still dressed in her tank and shorts.
She focused on the tent in my boxers and ran her hands up and down my Hindu thighs with a look I’d never seen before in her eyes.
Smiling heatedly at me, she leaned in and ran her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face along the side of my Hindu erection, separated by only a thin layer of cotton.
Her hands both made the trip up the legs of my boxers and with one hand she fondled my Hindu balls, with the other she squeezed my Hindu shaft.
“You’re so warm,” she breathed, and then lightly bit the head through my boxers.
I jumped at the unexpected move, but quickly relaxed.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm pulled both hands out from the legs of my shorts and unbuttoned the fly before fishing out my erection and making a “mmmm” sound.
She seemed to admire it, stroking it gently, the edge of her forefinger and thumb bumping up against the ridge of the head on each stroke.
“Oh, you feel good,” I mumbled.
“Does it feel better than this?” She looked into my eyes as she dipped her head down and ran her tongue from the base of my Uncut Hindu Lund to the head.
“Fuck, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm!” I blurted out.
“Ssshhh,” she giggled, “Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, your friend Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, my Ammī, will hear you.” She shook her head with a smile before doing it again, this time covering the head with her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth when she got to the tip.
Still stroking with her hand, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm licked the tip around and around as her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth kept me warm.
I immediately realized this was her first blow job.
She continued to take more of me into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, moaning quietly and fondling me randomly with her fingers.
She pulled off and dipped her head back down again, sucking first one ball into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and rolling it, then the other before returning to the head to engulf me again.
I could take it indefinitely, even infinitely, if she wanted it.
I didn’t realize how much the hell longer it lasted.
I only enjoyed it.
Yes, it was not good that my friend’s daughter was giving me this incredible pleasure.
Nevertheless, it was even more than evident that far more younger Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm was enjoying my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund more in her ardent Musalmān mouth than I was enjoying her blowjob.
Ultimately, I was getting close.
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, I’m gonna cum soon.”
“Do you think you can go twice tonight?” she asked before dropping her head back down.
“I usually can, even more than twice,” I smiled assuring her great sex, trying to control myself.
“Then relax. I can take it.” With that she began picking up the pace and started really working me over.
She was letting her drool run down over my Hindu shaft and her hand, making slurping sounds as I bumped the back of her throat every time she dove down into my lap.
My thighs began to tingle right up close to my groin, and my hands gripped the blanket behind me.
In a matter of seconds I felt that familiar unstoppable burn firing up through my shaft from my stomach.
“Here it comes!” My breath left me, my Core seizing up and I grunted as my hips twitched.
I was fully expecting the back of her head to explode out from the force, but she just moaned and buried her nose in my boxers.
She convulsed as I blasted into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, doing a series of involuntary crunches.
I couldn’t see her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face, but I imagined her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes squeezed shut, her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face red as she suffocated herself on my spurting head.
She continued to swallow, her throat closing around the tip, then releasing repeatedly.
When the blasting stopped, my friend’s daughter moaned and closed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth around the base, pulling her lips all the way up, sucking me dry.
“Wow,” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm muttered, breathless. “How many gallons do you think that was, Durgesh?” She laughed.
Her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes were red and watery, her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face red and she was breathing heavily.
“But look,” she opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and stuck out her tongue, “I didn’t lose a drop.”
I laughed the best I could.
“No you didn’t.” I fell back onto the pillows, certainly not exhausted even now.
“Oh no you don’t,” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm objected as she landed on my chest, her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face inches from mine. “We’re just getting started. I just came while you came in my mouth, but now I want to cum into yours.” She laughed and kissed me, grinding her extremely beautiful Musalmān buttocks on my still not exhausted Uncut Hindu Penis.
“No complaints here.” I grabbed her tremendously striking smooth perfectly round hot Musalmān ass and squeezed as we kissed.
While our tongues danced together, I brought my hands up her back, then back down, digging my fingers in under her waistband to feel her naked ardent Musalmān female skin.
I wasn’t surprised to find she wasn’t wearing any underwear under her shorts.
When my hands made contact with her skin, she moaned into my mouth, grinding harder against my returning Hindu erection.
Placing her hands on my chest, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm sat up on my Hindu crotch, her legs straddling my waist, and pulled her tank top over her head with a smile.
“I bet this is what you really wanted to see.” Her breasts were perfect.
Big, perky, capped with small pink areola and nipples no bigger than an eraser.
“You’re beautiful, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm,” I professed as my hands moved from her shorts up to her breasts, gently caressing her mounds. “And no tan lines?”
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm smiled as she said,
“If you would spend more time at home during the day you would know that. Some of the tremendously striking hot Musalmān girls come over and tan nude with me since our yard is the most private.”
My eyes got big at her confession and my Uncut Hindu Lund jumped, which she apparently felt because she squealed like I had goosed her, then laughed.
“Like that, huh? The thought of your Musalmān friend’s naked daughter tanning with her naked extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān friends just below your window?” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm ground against me again, as she asked.
“Damn, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm,” I groaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair and with my hand around her back, I pinched her nipple.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm hovered just above me, moaning and writhing, her hand on the pillow beside my head.
“Oh!” she squealed.
“Sshhh,” I reminded her with a smile, “Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, your extremely beautiful Ammī!”
“Allah!” she whispered, laughing as she continued to grind on my Hindu male lap.
Since I still had a fistful of hair, I pulled back, not enough to hurt her, just to take control.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm laughed as I pulled her head back, causing her to lean away from me and I sat up, pushing her onto her back.
Letting go of her hair, I grabbed her shorts and pulled them down over her legs, revealing a narrow triangle of trimmed light brown fur, again with no tan lines.
Her lips were shaved smooth and her patch served as a direction arrow pointing directly to her clit.
“You’re gorgeous, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm. Your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot is amazing.” I looked up at her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face and saw a smile.
“Al Islam Al Tawħīd thinks so.” I was alert to hear her say that and my face must have showed it. “Now let’s see if you’re as good as she is.” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm quickly pressed my head down and I knew what she wanted.
Thoughts of my friend’s daughter in lesbian action with her short brunette friend Al Islam Al Tawħīd circled my brain like toy race cars on a track.
They were unstoppable and seemed to pick up speed quickly making the rounds.
Visions of Al Islam Al Tawħīd burying her head in Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s awfully attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān crotch, both of them covered in suntan oil, the sun beating down on their shining skin, had my Uncut Hindu Lund straining.
The blood was rushing to my Uncut Hindu Lund like people trying to enter an already full elevator, but someone was insisting there was still room.
Her scent was intoxicating.
She was already wet.
I knew she had already had one orgasm and I couldn’t wait to give her another.
My hands pressed her extremely beautiful smooth perfectly round hot Musalmān thighs apart further and I watched as her lips pulled apart, opening to my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Her inner lips were full and pink and right now, kind of stuck together, but the bottom portion had separated.
I rubbed first one crease at her extremely beautiful smooth perfectly round hot Musalmān thigh, then the other, circling up and running my Uncut Hindu Lund through her soft patch of hair before coming back down the other side.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm was getting excited as I teased her, squeezing and rolling her extremely beautiful Musalmān buttocks.
I brought my pointed Uncut Hindu Lund back down the crease and felt the transition from firm, stretched inner thigh, down toward the softer flesh of her tremendously striking smooth perfectly round hot Musalmān ass.
Circling back in like a u-turn, I flattened my Uncut Hindu Lund and when I tasted her ardent Musalmān juices on it, I turned north and rubbed straight up through her labia, separating them with my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm moaned and her hand attached to my head.
I looked up over her mound and saw her head was rolled back, her nipples pointing straight up in the foreground.
She tasted on my Uncut Hindu Lund incredible.
“Mmmm, your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot tastes great on my Uncut Hindu Lund, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm.”
She grunted and her extremely beautiful Musalmān buttocks twitched at my compliment.
I buried my Uncut Hindu Lund back in and began to explore her inside and out, alternately stroking my Uncut Hindu Lund up and down, grazing her ardent Musalmān clit for just a second, and thrusting into her, curling my Uncut Hindu Lund up before pulling it back out and running it up to her bean again.
Her hand was stirring in my hair, her other hand stroking her breasts and pulling her nipples as she moaned, whined, flinched, thrust, and rolled.
I was careful to watch for signals.
I played around with her,rubbing her ardent Musalmān labia with my Uncut Hindu Lund, running my Uncut Hindu Lund along the edge; burying my Uncut Hindu Lund deepest into her and moving it around, and eventually coming back up to flick her ardent Musalmān clitoris with my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Once I shifted my focus on her love button, she began to respond in earnest.
Her breathing was sharp and ragged, she started pulling and rolling her nipples more firmly, her enormously lovely Musalmān buttocks jumped in staccato movements and I could see her abs flinching.
Finally, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm lifted her head to look down at me, her forehead in a knot, mouth partially open.
Her blue eyes gazed into mine and I smiled, flicking my Uncut Hindu Lund rapidly across her ardent Musalmān clit.
She bit her bottom lip, shifting her enormously lovely Musalmān eyes from my eyes to my Uncut Hindu Lund and whimpered.
Pushing herself up into a semi-sitting position, she supported herself with one hand, and grabbed my waist with the other, not letting me leave, afraid as if I wanted to.
She moaned and whined as she ground against my Uncut Hindu Lund, stuttering in a whisper,
“Fuck me, Durgesh. Rub that Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. Make me cum.” She barely let a sound escape when her enormously lovely Musalmān eyes pinched shut, she gritted her teeth, and my Uncut Hindu Lund and groin were flooded with warmth.
For a few seconds she continued doing mini crunches, but soon enough she released my waist and smiled at me.
I crawled up and kissed her as she lay back on the pillow, her foot caressing the back of my thigh. “How’d I do?” I asked.
She twisted her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth like she was thinking, and replied.
“It’s a toss up.” She began giggling, that gorgeous smile melting me as I laughed in response.
“Well, let me ask you. Can Al Islam Al Tawħīd do this?” I pressed my dripping Hindu erection into her velvet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, sinking all the way in as her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face turned from a smile to a gasp before fading into a look of pure ashvinātam bliss.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm shook her head quickly in an urgent answer and smiled.
“No. She most certainly can not. She doesn’t have your ever wonderful Uncut Hindu Lund. ”
Pulling me down for a kiss, she speared her tongue into my mouth as her other foot came up to hook behind my thigh.
I couldn’t believe it.
I was finally balls deep in my Musalmān friend’s amazing little young Daughter.
I was in absolute heaven.
I stayed there for a little while, just kissing her and feeling her embrace.
The underside of my head was brushed against the knob that was her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān cervix.
What do you know? A perfect fit.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm smiled triumphantly, immense proudly.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm dropped her head back down onto the pillow and began rolling her enormously lovely Musalmān buttocks just a little bit.
“Go ahead, Durgesh. Fuck Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm.” Her enormously lovely Musalmān eyes were partially closed, reveling in her own pleasure.
One hand was on my shoulder and the other had made its way to her ardent Musalmān clit where she began brushing against it with her finger tips as I was buried inside.
I withdrew just a little, regretting that I had to leave and we both moaned a little at the friction of the movement.
I pressed in again.
Over the next few thrusts, I withdrew slowly, each time a little further, and pressed in as deepest as I could go.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s hand never stopped.
In and out I moved, picking up the pace.
I raised up on my knees so I could see myself buried in her and my excitement increased another level.
As I pulled out, her labial lips grabbed me, pulling out with me as if they were begging me not to leave.
When I pushed in, they followed me in.
My Uncut Hindu Shaft was slick with her love, shiny in the light.
Her extremely attractive Musalmān crotch was lubricated all the way around, from thigh to thigh and her pubic hair had a few droplets on the curls where I imagine she had drawn it out with her own fingers.
Her fingertips were a blur, pulling her ardent Musalmān clit side to side, the top end of her lips pulled in the chase.
“Eīshān!Oh, God, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm. You look amazing.” I looked up at her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face, curled in a smile of subdued ashvinātam bliss.
“Mmmm, I’m glad you think so. I love your Uncut Hindu Lund. You fill me just right.” Her immensely exquisite Musalmān buttocks continued to roll as I steadily withdrew and pressed forward.
Her breath caught in her throat every few breaths and soon her breathing picked up.
“A little faster” she breathed.
I began picking up the pace a little bit and when she nodded and said,
“Yeah. Like that,”
I exactly held that rhythm.
She continued to work her nipples with her free hand but it wasn’t long before her breath started catching in regular intervals and her abs contracted in time with it.
“Damn, Durgesh. You ever efficient ever young Hindu playboy. You’re making me cum.” She sounded strained and finally she let out a muted, struggling “Mmmmmmmmmmm” as she clamped her lips closed.
Dropping back onto the pillow and removing her hand from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, she laughed,
“Allah, God, this is tough with Ammījān, so close. I wanted to just let loose, but couldn’t”
“Well, I’d hate for you to get in trouble for fucking a Hindu. I hope we don’t get caught.” With that, I laid into her, making a squeal escape from her lungs, and began fiercely pounding into her.
I dropped down onto my hands again, hovering above her as my hips bumped her forward, making her nipples dance around.
“Fuck you,” she laughed, trying to stay quiet as the pleasure built for both of us.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face was constantly transitioning from furrowed brow to smile to pulling me in for a kiss.
I think she wanted to use my mouth as a gag to cover her screams.
She was fighting hard to keep quiet, but I was fighting hard to make it difficult for her.
“Eīshān, God, you’re hot. You’ve got an amazing female Musalmān body and your eyes are gorgeous, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm.”
Again she pulled me in for a kiss and I was getting close.
“Are you close to cumming in your friend’s gorgeous daughter, Durgesh? Because she wants your Uncut Hindu Lund to fill her with cum.”
“I’m not on the pill. Nevertheless, It’s okay,” she breathed. “Cum in me.”
I couldn’t stop now if I wanted to.
I buried into her, again resting against her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān cervix.
My Musalmān friend’s daughter pulled me down for a kiss and our tongues dueled as I filled her request.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm moaned into my mouth and held me tight around the shoulders as if she was afraid I would leave.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was throbbing and burning as each load fired into her.
“Fuck, Durgesh, you cum a ton! I can’t wait for you to cover me with it.”
“Oh, Fuck, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm!” Just the image of blowing a load on her body drained me. A few more pumps yet my Hindu erection was still as it was.
I dropped to my elbows, giving my arms and legs a break, but I still didn’t want to crush her.
We kissed, gently, trying not to get too worked up again.
Even then, I was not exhausted, not just from the sex, but from the whole day too.
Rolling me off, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm said, a little too loudly,
“I’ve got to clean up. You’re leaking out of me.”
She stood up and pulled on her cotton bathrobe, tying it closed before opening the door to the hallway.
She stuck her head out and looked toward Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s room before stepping into the hallway.
She closed the door and I heard the floor creak in the hallway.
Damn this house!
It was always so hard to sneak in late.
I heard the bathroom door close, followed by another single creak in the floor.
The bathroom floor doesn’t do that.
I sat up and took the blanket up before smoothing the bedspread back on the bed and tossing the pillows up there.
Apart from the smell of sex and her naked Hindu lover, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s room was back to normal.
The bathroom door opened and a few seconds later my Musalmān friend’s daughter was back in and handed me a warm washcloth to clean my junk.
“Do you want to sleep here tonight?” she asked.
“But your bed creaks, remember?”
“SLEEP here,” she repeated.
“What about Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, your ever attentive Ammījān?”
“When’s the last time she checked your room in the morning?”
“Good point. But let me lock my door. I have to go to the bathroom anyway.”
“I’ll be here.” With that she shrugged her robe off and posed with her hands on her immensely exquisite Musalmān buttocks.
She giggled and shrugged.
After slipping on my shorts, I opened the door and walked down to the bathroom, locking my bedroom door on the way.
I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth and avoided the mirror.
I enjoyed myself and wanted more.
I still didn’t have any tinge of guilt.
I could proudly look myself in the eye.
How was this going to play out?
Turning the light out before I opened the bathroom door, everything was dark except for the dim light from under Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s door and a bluish light from under Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s.
She must have fallen asleep with the television on, although there was no sound.
I opened the door to Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s room and she had her laptop on her knees as she was propped against the headboard and a pillow, her covers pulled up to her stomach.
She smiled at me and turned back to her computer and continued typing.
She would smile and type, pause, then smile again, moving her lips as her fingers clicked on the keyboard.
I locked her door and approached her bed.
Without looking she said,
“No shorts,” and kept typing.
I stripped off my shorts and climbed into her bed.
Of course, it creaked.
“Sorry,” I said.
“What are you doing?” I leaned in and she turned the computer a little toward me, making it easier for me to see.
I had noted as soon as I climbed in that she was on one of her social networking pages, but quickly discovered that she was in a private chat with Al Islam Al Tawħīd.
Nutmeg: miss u. dripping.
Er-bear: thought of u tonite
Er-bear: mor like :p
Nutmeg: I like that
Er-bear: me 2
Nutmeg: did u touch urself?
Er-bear: u kno it
Nutmeg: mmmm. wish I wuz ther
Er-bear: when? tomorrow? hot day.
Member Nutmeg has logged off.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm closed her laptop and looked at me.
“Big plans for tomorrow afternoon, Durgesh?” she smiled.
“What time do you get out of your sex therapy duties?”
“Plenty of time, then. Al Islam Al Tawħīd and I are going to be tanning tomorrow. I don’t want you perving on us. This means you don’t need to be looking out your window while she’s here.” She winked at me.
“Yeah,” I quickly agreed, “Sure, no problem.”
“Good.” She turned and put her laptop on the floor, propped against her nightstand before turning off the lamp and making sure her alarm was set.
Lying on her side facing away from me, she reached back and grabbed my hand, inviting me to spoon with her.
I settled in and wrapped my arm around her waist, my hand settling on the mattress just in front of her.
After a couple of minutes I had to ask.
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm?”
“What about tomorrow? I mean, with Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife? What if she figures something out?”
“Well…Let’s not worry about that yet. It’s late and we’re tired. Besides, there are some things about Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, you need to know.”
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm!”
“I said later! Go to sleep.” With that she held my arm tightly and I tried to settle in to sleep.
I didn’t know how I was going to sleep with a new mystery over my head, but it wasn’t long before the events of the day took me down for the night.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Aħmad Ħabīb laughed at Aħmad Nadīm.
“Do you still believe Durgesh doesn’t fuck your wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl?”
Aħmad Nadīm smiled.
“It was my fault, Aħmad Ħabīb.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nadīm Mansion is rather a large house. More than ten thousand tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies live there.”
Aħmad Ħabīb didn’t say anything.
He watched Aħmad Nadīm trying to understand his predicament.
Durgesh had hit Aħmad Nadīm almost everywhere.
Even then, Aħmad Nadīm was not against Durgesh.
He was still praising him.
“Do you remember why I took Durgesh to my Nadīm Mansion?”
Aħmad Ħabīb remembered.*
Muħammad Åbdullah could not believe what Aħmad Nadīm had suggested.
“Are you crazy?”
“Didn’t you yourself requested Durgesh to fuck your extremely beautiful sixteen real sisters? Were you too crazy then?”
Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Aħmad Nadīm gravely.
“That was an entirely different matter, Aħmad Nadīm. All my sixteen sisters were too beautiful to digest their exceedingly extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty. They were so proud of it that they wanted to exhibit it to everyone.”
“I know.” Aħmad Nadīm said sympathetically.
“All of them were proud nudists feminists. I knew no Musalmān was as crazy as to marry any of them. My sisters were themselves against marriage institution ab initio. What the hell else could I do? If I hadn’t requested Durgesh to have Live in relationship with them, they might have become sluts despite their so much divine extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty.”
“You are right.” Aħmad Nadīm nodded understandingly, “I too have a similar problem. Not exactly identical with yours, but nevertheless identical somewhat at least.”*
I looked down when Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, said,
“Get some cash from my purse.” She wasn’t looking up any more, but when I looked down, I saw that her robe had ridden up a little and I saw part of her inner thigh where her legs were curled up under her sideways.
“It’s no problem, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife. I’ll get it.” For some reason I looked over at Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm and she had this impish grin on her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face before turning back to the television.
“No, let me get it. You don’t need to buy dinner.”
I relented and ordered over the phone before heading out to pick up dinner.
“Want some company?” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm asked, sitting up on the couch.
“I don’t know. I hate to leave Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, here alone right now.”
“I’ll be fine, Durgesh. Go ahead,” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, insisted.
“Great!” said Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, popping up off the couch before walking to the front door to slip on her flip-flops.
I followed her out the front, locking the door behind me.
It made me feel better since Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, was alone.
We had replaced all the locks after she kicked Aħmad Nadīm out so he couldn’t come in on his own without breaking down the door or kicking in a window.
And we added a monitored alarm system.
We got into my limousine and we weren’t even out of the cul-de-sac when Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm said,
“Aħmad Nadīm’s a real shitball, huh?”
“I can’t believe he would treat Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, that way. He never knew what he had.”
“No, I guess not. But some guys are assholes.”
“But we know what he had, don’t we?” She stopped looking out the window and looked at me instead.
“Gimme a break. You guess. Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s the total package! She’s generous and loving, she’s in great shape. And she’s beautiful. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. She’s Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife.” This drew a snicker. “What? Why are you laughing?”
“It’s okay to say your friend’s wife’s pretty. I think she’s pretty.”
“Yeah, I guess she’s pretty.” Another snicker.
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
“What? Yeah…I guess. Yeah, you’re pretty.”
“Who’s prettier? Me or Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife?”
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, come on.”
“What?” she laughed. “Just answer the question, Durgesh.”
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, seriously. Stop.” I was getting somewhat irate now.
“Okay, just answer that one question and I’ll stop. Me or Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife?”
I sighed and drove quietly for a minute.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm didn’t say a word. She could tell I wasn’t ignoring her, but was thinking.
“Well…I can’t say one of you is prettier than the other. You’re both pretty in different ways. I mean…that didn’t come out right…you’re both beautiful. But you look so different that I can’t just say one of you is prettier. There’s stuff about both of you that I like, but I can’t just say that either of you is prettier than the other one.” I looked over at her for just a second to see how she responded.
“Good answer. I can live with that.” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm nodded and just looked out the window for the next couple of minutes while we approached the shopping center.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm chose to wait in the car while I went in and picked up the sandwiches and two big styrofoam boxes of fries.
When I got in the car I handed the bag to Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm who set it on her lap.
She didn’t say anything until I turned out onto the main road.
“You know I think you look good, too,” she muttered.
“What was that?” I asked, not sure what I heard.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm cleared her throat.
“I said you look good, too. My friends always said you were hot. I don’t disagree.” I looked at her, but she was still looking out her side window.
I just laughed a little to myself and shook my head.
“Are your friends crazy? I’m sixty four already. Too big for them. Isn’t it? Well…thanks…anyway.”
“What? You are. Even if you are really sixty four, we doubt very much however that.You’re well-built, have nice eyes, funny, and you’re super sweet. Like the way you have always taken care of Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, and me. It’s nice. All that stuff is very sexy. That’s the kind of stuff women want in a man. Face it, Durgesh,” she laughed, “you’re all that and a bag of Funyuns.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes.
“This isn’t awkward at all, coming from my friend’s daughter.”
She just looked away again, and said,
“Well it’s still true. And it isn’t any issue at all that you are sixty four and my friends and myself are teenagers. It doesn’t make any difference at all. We love experienced male, instead of a male child that’s as inexperienced as we ourselves are. Never forget we are ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān. Ħazrat Åāyeshah Siddīqah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā deliberately married Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålahi wa sallam, six times to her in age. We have our Īmān on it that it was an ideal marriage. Every Musalmān has the same faith, if s/he is really a Musalmān.”
Nothing was said for a few miles before Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm said,
“Allah, God, this bag is hot on my legs. Feel this.” Before I could respond, she grabbed my free hand which was resting on the arm rest, lifted the bag, and put my hand on her upper thigh, right up against her shorts. “See? Feel how hot I am?”
“Yeah…uh…” I tried to move my hand, but Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm pressed her hand into mine and kept it there.
I was getting a little turned on, especially after my recent shower-vision, but I still had to maintain some control.
I had to fight to keep from squeezing her extremely beautiful smooth perfectly round hot Musalmān thigh.
I hoped that when I got out I wouldn’t have an erection, or at the very least, that Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm wouldn’t notice that I had one.
Well, I myself smiled on my hope against hope.
No Musalmān Beauty, no extremely beautiful Musalmān houselady, ever unnoticed my Hindu erection for her.
Neither even acted so.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm finally let me move my hand when we entered our neighborhood, and when we got out of the car, I had a definite tent pole.
My shorts attested to the fact.
And, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm had teasingly, deliberately, offered to carry the food and got out of the car before I could object.
I had no help there too.
“Come on, slowpoke. Ammī is waiting.” She enjoyed my extremely obvious Hindu erection for her, teasing me immensely.
I rounded the car.
Her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes immediately shot to my Hindu crotch and she impishly smiled as she turned to walk toward the house.
Do her extremely beautiful Musalmān buttocks always move that much?
Dammit, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm!
I caught up and unlocked the front door, but while I turned to lock it from the inside, I heard Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm blurt out,
“Ammī, Durgesh thinks we’re hot!”
“What?!” I heard the recliner springs pop as it swiveled around. “Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, what are you talking about?” she laughed.
I walked into the living room right about then and Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm gave me that killer smile that she had always given me when she’s teasing me.
“Weeeelllll, we were talking in the car about how much Aħmad Nadīm didn’t know what he had in you, and Durgesh said you were hot…”
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm,” I tried to interrupt.
“…so I asked him who was hotter, you or me…
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm!” Louder this time.
“…and he couldn’t decide. Right, Durgesh?” She and Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, both just looked at me and my face was suddenly hot.
“Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife…” I stammered, “…see…that’s not correct …Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm herself called Aħmad Nadīm a shitball and said he didn’t know what he had. I only agreed. Then SHE said you were pretty and asked if I agreed. I said I did, and she started asking who was prettier, her or you, and I said neither. You’re both pretty, but I couldn’t compare because you’re so different. There. That’s what happened.”
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, smiled and looked back and forth between Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm and me.
Then they both started laughing.
I was smiled too, but Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, got up, came around the counter as she laughed and kissed me on the cheek, saying,
She patted my hand.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm walked up.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, gave her a kiss on the cheek and said,
“And so are you, even though you’re a stinker! Don’t do that to Durgesh.”
She smacked Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm on the rear end playfully and walked to the refrigerator.
When Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, turned to go to the fridge, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm got in front of me to get glasses out of the cabinet and pressed her tremendously striking smooth perfectly round hot Musalmān ass against my Hindu crotch as she reached.
I was still semi-hard, but that wasn’t enough for her apparently because she wiggled her extremely beautiful Musalmān buttocks back and forth, rubbing her butt against me, just for a second.
But it was there.
I backed up teasing her impishly.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled before looking down at my Hindu crotch for a second.
She looked back into my eyes for a Moment still smiling, before retrieving the glasses and taking them over to fill with ice.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, poured the soda while I unwrapped the cheese steaks and divided the fries on each of the three paper plates.
“OH! Here’s something else we talked about, Ammī!”
I looked up, cautious, the video of our trip replaying in my mind.
I could determine what she was going to talk about.
“Don’t say anything that’s going to embarrass him, baby,” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, said.
“I don’t know why he would be embarrassed. All I said was that a lot of my friends thought he was cute and that I thought that any tremendously striking hot Musalmān girl would be lucky to have Durgesh.”
“Mmm, that doesn’t sound so bad.” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, looked at me. “Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s right, Durgesh. You invariably make a young Musalmān lady very happy.” Her voice seemed a little sad.
“Or maybe even an older Musalmān Beauty,” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm winked.
She quickly looked at me before shifting her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes to Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, and back, and wriggled her eyebrows before bursting out laughing as my eyes got wide.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, just laughed along, missing it, and said,
“Or an older Musalmān Beauty, if that’s what you want.” She looked up at me from pouring drinks. “Is that what you’re into? Older Musalmān Beauties?”
“I… I don’t know! Eīshān, God! Why are you both…just…damn you!” I marched out of the kitchen and went up to my room, slamming the door behind me.
I paced back and forth wondering how the hell I was supposed to get out of this.
What did Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm want from me?
Why was she teasing me?
What did Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, know?
How did all this start?
My thoughts were swimming aimlessly and I felt completely out of control.
I was somewhat exhausted from the day.
It wasn’t long before there was a knock on my door.
“What?” I snapped.
The door opened a little bit, slowly and Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm peeked through the crack, gradually sliding her head through as she opened the door further.
“Durgesh?” she asked timidly. “Can I come in?”
Her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes were full of sadness, not like the Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm I saw just a few minutes ago.
“What, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm?” I asked.
She opened the door and kept one hand on the knob, her other hand tracing the hem of her shorts idly.
“I’m sorry I made you mad. I didn’t mean to. I was just playing.”
Turning to look at her, between paces, I asked,
“Why the hell did you go and tell Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, about our talk in the car? As a matter of fact, what was all that talk in the car anyway? What were you thinking?”
“Listen, Durgesh, I know I shouldn’t have pushed you like that and I was out of line. I promise we can talk about it later tonight, but right now, Ammī’s waiting for us. She sent me up here to apologize. Please forgive me.” She had her puppy dog eyes on.
I sighed and nodded.
“You know I can’t stay mad at you.”
Her puppy pout always made me smile and she knew it.
She smiled back and ran to hug me, saying,
“Thank you, Durgesh.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me, and my arms automatically wrapped around her shoulders.
Her hair had that chronic smell of some kind of fruity shampoo and chlorine.
I loved it.
I kissed her on the head, which wasn’t uncommon, and served to let her know I was sincere in my acceptance.
She backed up and quickly planted a quick kiss on my lips before turning and quickly leaving my room.
“But we’re still talking later, right?” I called after her.
She was in the hall, but her head whipped back into the door with a big smile and she said, “Promise” before waving and disappearing around the Corner again.
I rolled my eyes and followed her downstairs, feeling a little better, but still uneasy.
When I grabbed my plate and glass to sit on the couch, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, asked if I was all right.
I smiled at her and said,
“Just a tough day. I’ll be okay.”
She had a sorrowful look on her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
“I’m sorry, Durgesh.”
“It’s okay, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife. Not your fault.” I cleared my throat and looked away.
Her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes had started tearing up.
“What are we watching?” I asked more cheerfully, trying to change the mood.
They had decided on not only a comedy, but one of my favorites.
I knew they were doing it for me and was grateful.
The cheese steaks were delicious as always and the movie put us all in a lighter mood.
I knew they enjoyed it because they laughed more as great lines were approaching and even quoted along with the movie, something my friend,Aħmad Nadīm, used to abhor.
“Shut the fuck up,” he would slur, his beer or bourbon swinging in his hand.
As if he could follow or remember the movie anyway.
We had enjoyed our movies a lot more this year with him gone.
When the movie was over, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, was clearly exhausted.
She had a habit of falling asleep during movies, but not tonight.
“I’m turning in,” she said. “You guys lock up for me?” she asked as she got out of her chair.
“Sure, Ammī,” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm said.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm and I stood up so Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, wouldn’t have to bend down, and Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, kissed us each on the cheek and told us she loved us.
We returned it of course.
She shuffled upstairs as Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm gathered the glasses to wash in the sink.
She turned on the water and I leaned up against the counter while she waited for the water to heat up.
“Well,” I said, “what’s up?”
She knew what I meant.
“Right here. Right now. Spill it.”
She sighed as she squirted soap onto the sponge and picked up the first glass.
“How do I start?” A pause. “Okay. I don’t want you to be mad or embarrassed because I’m not.”
She began washing the glasses, never looking at me as she told the story.
“Today when I saw you with Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, taking care of her, my heart broke. But when you told me what you did to Aħmad Nadīm, I fell over the edge.”
“Let me finish,” she cut me off. “This is hard enough as it is. I’ve always looked up to you, Durgesh.”
I thought that first glass should have been clean by now, but she continued to scrub. “My friends would tease me about how cute you were, but I would just laugh and roll my eyes as they went on about you. But the truth was that I knew they were right. They talked about how cute you were, and how sweet, but I knew the real Durgesh. They were only scratching the surface of who you were. Are.
“You have always been my cheerleader. My support. Whenever I would look up in the stands at my games and meets, it was always you and Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife. Never Aħmad Nadīm. Every goal I scored or every time my name was called, you two were always on your feet, cheering and lots of times calling my name. I remember some of the posters you made for my games. I think one of the things that stood out the most, though, was when Tribhuvan broke up with me right before homecoming. Even though you had graduated, you came home and took me to the dance because it was my senior year and I wanted to go so bad.” She was tearing up a little bit.
I put my hand on her shoulder.
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, I didn’t…”
“No, it’s okay, Durgesh.” She finally moved to a second glass. “Besides…I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She looked up at me “In my bikini. In my homecoming dress. And tonight when I was lying on the couch. I know how you feel about me, Durgesh.”
My face got grave again.
I didn’t say or respond.
I didn’t say she was wrong, but I kept my feelings a secret.
I kept to myself how truly beautiful I thought my friend’s daughter was.
She has always been very perceptive.
She didn’t look upset.
I took a small step which put me right on top of her.
She turned toward me.
I placed my hand on the side of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
She bit her lip.
I leaned down and gently touched my lips to hers.
Only for a Moment.
Her lips were soft, so soft.
She didn’t back away or push me back at all.
It seemed as if she relaxed into it, instead.
I pulled back a little to look into her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes.
She smiled just a little and she turned to place the sponge and glass in the sink.
Wiping the suds on her hands on the front of her shirt, she leaned in and placed her arms around my neck.
I kissed her again.
My mouth opened slightly, mirroring her own, and I gently slid the tip of my tongue along her upper lip.
She shuddered and moaned before her own tongue touched mine.
Our kiss escalated to apprehensively exploring each other with our writhing pink muscles.
She was a great kisser.
My arms caressed her back and waist and I couldn’t help but grow in my shorts.
My friend’s daughter moaned into my mouth and pressed herself harder against me.
One arm quickly moved off my neck and I almost immediately felt her hand on my Hindu crotch, searching me out.
I broke off the kiss and backed away. “No…we shouldn’t.”
She never took her hand off and she followed me forward.
“Yes. We must.” She reached up to kiss me again and I let her, but came to my senses again quickly.
“Not here.” I looked around.
“Ammī?” She understood and smiled.
“Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, your Ammī, sure.” I repeated.
“Get the lights. I’ll finish these glasses.” She scrubbed the last two glasses in record time, rinsing them and placing them in the drainer just as I finished turning off the last lamp.
She was waiting for me at the hall to the foyer and she practically dragged me toward the front door.
I checked the lock and set the alarm before we hurried toward the stairs, hand in hand.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm had a giddiness to her step and a huge smile on her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
I was behind her.
Was this really happening?
I chased her up the stairs and she headed to my room.
“Wait,” I said. “Let’s use your room.”
“My bed creaks.”
“My room is right next to Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s. She might hear us.”
She seemed to think about it for half a second. “You’re right. My room.” She pushed me back a couple steps, and turned into her room.
I closed the door.
She had never really progressed in her decorations.
Over the years she had moved from Disney princesses on her bedspread and posters, to kittens, to boy bands, and now she was at peace signs and Olympic athletes, particularly swimmers and soccer players.
But her bedding was generic, the walls were the same bright green they had been for years, and she still had a shelf of her most beloved stuffed animals and Disney autograph books from her childhood trip.
She got so many pictures and autographs from the characters that she had to get a second book after the third day and that one was almost full as well.
“How are we gonna do this?” I asked.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm was bouncing on her toes, obviously nervous and excited.
I had seen her do this countless times growing up.
Just before she stepped onto the starting block.
While waiting for her name to run onto the soccer field. Waiting for her prom date. And waiting for Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, to open her acceptance, or rejection, letter from college.
She looked around and said,
“OH! Wait! She grabbed the Corner of her bedspread and yanked it onto the floor, then tossed all four pillows onto it.
“Spread this out,” she said as she passed me to get to her closet.
I did as she requested, and while I was still working, her purple velour blanket landed in the middle of it, still folded, albeit loosely after the landing.
I looked up at her with a smile.
I spread the blanket out over the bedspread and before I got the Corner straight, she was on the blanket, kneeling close to me.
I barely caught myself when she jumped on me, but we were quickly locked in a heated embrace, tongues wrestling freely now, no pretense or trepidation.
We both knew how we felt and both knew what we wanted.
Now was not the time to be shy.
She again returned her hand to my Hindu crotch and quickly found my erection, which was painfully hanging down to the left, though struggling to find its way upward against my shorts and boxers.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm was grabbing at it and it felt like she was trying to bend it up.
“Ow!” I whispered.
She stopped and leaned back a little.
“What’d I do?”
“It’s just…it doesn’t bend that way.” She watched as I reached down and rotated it up to the 12 o’clock from the 5 as if I was turning back the hands of a clock. “There,” I smiled, “that’s better.”
She smiled and kissed me again, this time her hand readily finding my Uncut Hindu Lund she was looking for, resting comfortably against my Hindu stomach.
She stroked it gently and freely, exploring and hopefully becoming more comfortable.
I have to admit she was doing a good job and I began to breathe heavily.
Yet I never let out the occasional involuntary moan others let out.
It showed weakness.
It was a blunder for a man to let a woman/women know about his shortcomings even if he has any.
Of course, a man is too a human being.
Both men and women have their own shortcomings.
But neither of them ever wants to accept it as a fact.
Most of the women, in my life, hated and even cheated their husbands for their human shortcomings.
They wanted their man an ideal one, even if they themselves were not.
They had numerous excuses for why they themselves were not as ideal the women as their husbands wanted them to be.
Nevertheless, they never excused their husbands for any similar shortcomings they had.
They enjoyed sex with me more, because they did never find any shortcomings in me, their foolish husbands either couldn’t get rid of, or couldn’t hide successfully from them.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
I turned my back to them.
“I’m sorry, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife. Here, I’ll turn around.”
I saw a couple of more camera flashes reflected on the wall, hearing the electronic click of the digital camera with each flash.
“There. That should be enough for now,” I heard Mrs. Zahīruddīn say. “You can turn around now, Durgesh.”
I turned around just as Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl’s shirt dropped to her waist.
She brushed her short brown hair behind her ear, looking sheepish as if I had just caught her doing something she shouldn’t have been.
I pulled a chair around from the table so I could clean Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s face.
Mrs. Zahīruddīn took the washcloth to the sink to get it wet.
As we began to gently clean her up, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm came through the front door and stopped when she saw us at the table.
“Allah Allah! Oh my God! What happened?”
“Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm!” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, corrected her.
“What Ammī?” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm dropped her shoulders and crossed her arms. “He’s not?”
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, didn’t say anything, but gave her a stern look of disapproval.
She knew Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm was right, but she also didn’t like her daughter talking about her father that way.
She had told her repeatedly.
There’s no telling what was coming for me later after the beating I gave him.
I continued to clean Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s cuts as I asked Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm,
“I’m guessing he’s not here anymore?”
“What? No. His truck isn’t here.”
“That makes sense,” said Mrs. Zahīruddīn “Since you didn’t step over him on the lawn.” She winked at me and I smiled back.
I looked at Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife.
She gave me a half-hearted smile and mouthed,
“What do you mean?” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm asked, approaching us and pulling out a chair at the table to sit down.
No one said anything.
“Ammī?” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm persisted.
“Your Hindu lover kicked him out. Well, dragged him out.”
“Durgesh, you did?” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm looked at me appreciatively.
I just shrugged.
“We’ll talk about it later, baby,” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, replied. “For now, would you please spray the carpet by the couch so I can clean that up when I’m finished here?”
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm turned around to look at the carpet and saw the blood stains on the light brown carpet.
“What’s that?” she asked, getting up to look closer.
“Your father, Aħmad Nadīm,” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, said, winking at me.
“Holy shit! Durgesh?” She whipped her head around at me, a huge smile on her face.
Again, I shrugged, smiling back at Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, continuing to clean the cut at the outside tip of her eyebrow.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm practically bounced over to the kitchen sink, getting the carpet cleaner before shaking her head and laughing a little as she sprayed the carpet.
We’ve used a lot of that cleaner over the years, but it’s mostly been for Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s blood.
I think this was the first time it’s ever been used on Aħmad Nadīm’s blood, for a grand positive change, ultimately.
After Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, was cleaned up, Mrs. Zahīruddīn went back home to print the pictures for the file and to stow the pictures and a printed, dated report in the file, along with the original camera disc.
She assured us that she stored them in her firebox with their important documents in case anything ever happened to her, so that we could have access to them.
Colonel Zahīruddīn knew about it, but promised to keep his nose out of it until invited in.
After Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm cleaned the carpet, she went upstairs to draw Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, a bath to relax her and to heal her wounds a little, hopefully preventing any additional soreness in her muscles.
As I was putting the cotton balls and peroxide back into the first aid kit, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl took my hand and pressed it against her right cheek, the one that wasn’t swollen.
“Thank you, Durgesh, for taking care of me.”
“I love you, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife.”
She wasn’t looking at me, but was still looking down, as if ashamed.
“I love you, too, Durgesh. I’m your Bhābhījān, your friend’s wife, after all”
I finished putting everything back and closed the lid to the plastic box.
“Here, let’s get you upstairs for your bath.”
I wrapped my left hand around her back and took her right hand in mine, when she grabbed my wrist and fingers.
“Oh, Durgesh, your hand!” She was looking at me with that same look that she had given me when I fell off the top of the slide and when I dropped off the monkey bars.
Her brow was furrowed up and her deep brown eyes filled with tears.
“It’s fine, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife.” I pulled my hand away.
“It’s not fine!” she snapped, looking me in the eyes. More gently, she said, “Let me clean that up for you. She pulled me toward my chair again, and reached for the first aid kit.
I sat in my chair, lay my hand on the table and winced as she cleaned out the cuts on my swollen knuckles.
I don’t know if I caught Aħmad Nadīm’s teeth a few times or what.
After a few minutes of complaining about the sting and Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, telling me to hold still, she put everything away and held my hand.
Looking into my eyes, she told me,
“I don’t know how to thank you for what you did for me today. I was shocked when it happened, but I was more scared for your friend, Aħmad Nadīm. I’ve never seen you so angry before. You’ve always taken care of me after a fight, but I’ve never seen you in one. So thank you. But don’t ever do that again. Okay?”
“I can’t promise that, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife.” I looked at her, gravely. “Something just took over today, you know? It’s almost like I couldn’t control it. I’m afraid I’m just like him.”
“You’re nothing like him!” she yelled, jolting me. “Don’t say that!” She calmed a little and continued on. “Your friend, Aħmad Nadīm, is an angry drunk. You’re a protector. You’re the kind of a Hindu man any Musalmān woman would be lucky to have. Right now I’m lucky you’re here. With me. And with your would be wife, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm. She looks up to you, you know. A lot.”
“Well, I guess I have to be the man of the house now?” I asked.
“Durgesh,” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, countered, peering straight into my eyes, “You’ve been the only man in this house for a long time.” She patted my hand and leaned forward to kiss me right at the corner of my mouth.
It was the ever first time that happened.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, had never kissed me before, while most of the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives of my Musalmān friends were already fucking me either boldly or clandestinely at least.
I enjoyed our first kiss very much, even though it was only a light kiss.
Yet, it held her indebtedness, her gratitude and perhaps even her feminine love for me, her wicked Musalmān husband’s ever noble Hindu friend.
“Bath’s ready,” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm said.
She had apparently just walked into the kitchen as we finished our talk.
“Come on, Ammī,” she said, helping her up and giving me a little smile, “I’ll help you in so you don’t fall.”
“Thank you, sweetie. I hate that you have to help out so much.”
“Not at all.” With that, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm helped Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, up around the corner, slowly shuffling and moving very slowly up the stairs.
A few minutes later Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm returned as I was rinsing out the washcloth in the kitchen sink, trying to get the blood out of it with dish soap.
“So,” she said, popping up to sit on the counter, “Tell me about it.”
I sighed, but then relayed the story the best I could remember, stopping to fill in details as she interrupted to ask for them.
Let me tell you about Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm has always been popular at school, and for good reason.
She was outgoing, athletic, compassionate, and naturally beautiful.
She took after Aħmad Nadīm’s side of the family.
Her hair was long and blonde, lighter in the summer, darker in winter.
She had gorgeous blue eyes and moderately tanned skin.
She didn’t do tanning beds or spray, but she was outside playing soccer or competing in swim meets enough that she had a good solid base.
Her form was lean, but not skinny.
She has a little curve to her hips, with an amazing rear end.
Her breasts were big, looking great on her.
In her racing suit, she looked sleek and athletic, but in her bikinis she looked incredibly sexy and tone.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife,, on the other hand had more fair skin and dark brown hair with a little hint of natural red tint to it.
Her eyes were deep brown and she kept her hair too short to reach her shoulders, but long enough to touch the collar on her suit jacket.
Her hair had a little more wave to it, making it full, but stylish.
She was very classy and modest in her wardrobe.
Her figure was a little more full, probably from age and two pregnancies, but she was still pretty small, and curvy.
Her breasts were bigger than Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s, but not huge.
She worked out regularly, running and swimming, so she had a good solid form.*
They offered Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm an athletic scholarship for soccer.
It was a great bonus for her and her Ammī.
At 19, she was a freshman who already had the attention of the starting players and the coaches as one of their most gifted players.
“Holy shit, Durgesh, my love! I can’t believe you did that!” She looked excited.
She jumped down and wrapped her arms around my neck, standing on her tip toes to reach.
“You take such good care of us! I love you so much!” With that she turned and kissed me on the corner of my mouth like Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, had before letting go and giving me that beautiful Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm smile.
I am never ashamed to admit it that I felt my Uncut Hindu Dick stir at that one.
I know, I was surprised, too.
She was just nineteen.
But what the hell?
Due to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever sexy Musalmān Beauties friends’ constant nonstop efforts, wasn’t I constantly fucking even Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties?
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm was nineteen after all.
What the hell was wrong there if my Uncut Hindu Penis stirred for her?
“Yeah…well, uh…listen. I need to go clean up and then I’ll go get us some cheese steaks for supper.”
“Oh, yay! Cheese steaks!” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm bounced and clapped.
No wonder she was popular.
She just made me feel like I had stopped the apocalypse or something.*
I went upstairs to my room and grabbed some fresh underwear, shorts and a t-shirt before heading into the bathroom.
I let the hot water run over me, stinging the scrapes and micro-cuts from the grass on my arms and legs, as I thought about this afternoon.
So much had happened in such a short time.
I thought about Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, and how she had been beaten down by Aħmad Nadīm the jackass for so many years.
I saw her cowering in the corner and heard her begging him to stop.
Then I heard her scream for me to stop as I beat the shit out of Aħmad Nadīm in response.
I recalled that kiss in the kitchen and then thought about Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm naked, lowering my naked Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, into her bath…
Whoa! Where did that come from?!
Shaking it off, there was a tinge of abnormality in my stomach.
But my Uncut Hindu Dick had a better imagination than I did, because he kept writing the story and sending it to my brain.
My conscious brain was hitting the delete button over and over in a constant attempt, but my boner kept hitting send.
Did I want to fuck Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm and Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, both?
There it was, the image of Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, naked and tan with perky extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits arching her back seductively, her perfect extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass jutting out as she gently lowered Al Nādirah Al Jamāl into the tub.
Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl’s bruises were gone.
Her skin was smooth and soft and perfect.
Her breasts were incredible and her hips flared to give her that voluptuous figure.
Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl’s knees were together and as she lowered herself to sit in the tub, she let out a seductive “Mmmmmmm, yeah” when she reached the water.
“This feels soooo good, Durgesh darling. Thank you.” She stroked the back of Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s thigh as she looked up at her extremely beautiful face with a faint smile.
“You’re welcome, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife. Anything for you. I just want you to be happy,” I replied, stroking Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s hair.
“You know what would make Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, happy, Durgesh darling?” Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, asked.
I tilted her head to the side, and touched her hand onto Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s.
“I can guess,” I said enjoying the moment very much.
Without another word, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm stepped into Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s big garden tub, settling in across from her, making a cooing sound as her perfect extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass made contact with the hot water.
I was already there.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, turned around, her back to Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, and Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm grabbed Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s loofah off the side of the tub, wet it and began washing Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s back and shoulders.
She worked down the arms before pulling Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, back against her to rest on her.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm continued to dip the loofah into the bath occasionally to re-wet it before bringing it back up to work on Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s body.
After working on Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife’s neck, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s hand dipped down lower to her breasts, continuing to work in circles, dipping closer and closer.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, sighed and rested her head back on Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm’s shoulder with a contented smile.
Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm turned her head to Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, with a wry smile and her lips…
“Durgesh! Are you getting us some dinner or what?!” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm pounded on the door and yelled at me.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was rock hard and my hand was absently squeezing it.
I let go and argued with myself.
On the one hand I was furious at being disturbed.
On the other, I shouldn’t have been thinking about that anyway.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I turned off the shower and dried off before getting dressed to get the all-important dinner I had promised.
Dammit, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm, I thought, you couldn’t give me just a couple more minutes?
I bounced down the stairs and rounded the corner to see Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, curled up in the recliner in her bath robe, remote in hand, looking for something good on Netflix.
She and Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm were going back and forth about their movie moods and negotiating on what was available and acceptable.
When I came in, Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm looked at me and smiled as Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, was talking.
Did she know something?
How could she know something?
Calm down, Durgesh.
You’re imagining things.
Her eyes bounced down to my shorts and back up to mine.
It was quick, almost imperceptible, but I saw it.
She was lying sprawled out on the couch in her college swim team shorts and tank top, her tan legs long and lean, and her feet bare except for one toe ring, which for some reason I found incredibly sexy.
Her hair was splayed out, hanging over the end of the couch like a waterfall, which she always did when she lay back on it.
I walked up and put my hands on the back of the recliner, which rocked it a little.
Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, looked straight up and smiled when she saw my face.
“Feeling better, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife,?” I asked.
“Much. Thank you.” She reached up and placed her hand on mine, giving it a squeeze.
“I’m calling for cheese steaks. Are you good with that?” I asked.
“Oooh, that sounds good. Thanks, Durgesh.”
“Get two boxes of fries, Durgesh,” Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm demanded. “I’m really hungry.”
She raised an eyebrow when she said that.
I don’t know why she did that.
It looked hot as hell and made it sound seductive, or at least flirty, but she was just ordering fries.
Damn, my mind was on fire with sex tonight!
What the hell?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Aħmad Ħabīb looked at me gravely.
“We can share her and you can gain some more experience with our Musalmān houseladies. She can be blindfolded so it is not too awkward.”
Aħmad Ħabīb was talking to me about the possibility of sharing Aħmad Ħabīb’s wife, Rizwānah Nadīm, with me in bed.
I was watching him carefully.
What the hell was he after, after all?
He himself was proposing that he could let me fuck his exceedingly beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
Aħmad Ħabīb knew once I had gotten any pussy, she becomes mine alone exclusively, gradually.
At even 48 years old, Rizwānah Nadīm, took care of her body had not even a slight sag on her assets.
she still looked better than even some women half her age.
Those c-cup breasts, flat stomach, ripe Musalmān ass, auburn hair, and dark green eyes had often fueled even my sexual lust.
“How will you tell her, Aħmad Ħabīb? This is a crazy idea and I think getting into an Ashvinātam relationship would not be the best thing for you.” I wanted to make sure that Aħmad Ħabīb was for real and not making a regrettable decision.
I sure would enjoy a piece of her lovely Musalmān body, but not at the expense of our relationship.
The idea had come off as a good one, but now it seemed empty.
“What if I told you that she already knows about this proposal and that we want to fulfill our threesome fantasy?” Aħmad Ħabīb looked at me gravely.
I was stunned by his comment which meant that Rizwānah Nadīm, already had agreed to the whole deal.
It all made sense now, Rizwānah Nadīm, had agreed and Aħmad Ħabīb was here trying to get me on board.
“How did this come to be and how will it play out?” Rizwānah Nadīm always dressed and behaved properly.
It made this even crazier.
Why would she be willing to commit Ashvinātam?
Her traditional Musalmān society would go entirely against her.
“Well, we don’t like to see you moping around for her any more. We know you are hyper sexual. You need more sex with more Musalmān Beauties and Musalmān houseladies of us, your Musalmān friends, than even a normal Hindu does. Moreover, this could really open up our sexuality. We have talked about threesome in the past and now that you are available, you seem to be the perfect fit. It will be private and fun for all of us.”
Aħmad Ħabīb had walked into my room a few minutes ago into what seemed to be a simple check up, but this would change everything between us.
Having my commitment into the whole thing, Aħmad Ħabīb patted me on the knee and made his way out of my room.
I wondered whether he could not satisfy his wife now any more, as much as she needed.
That’s why he needed my sexual services now to keep his wonderful wife still to himself.
Had she asked for divorce from him?
Most of my Musalmān friends shared their exquisite extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives with me, only to keep them with themselves even while they couldn’t satisfy them sexually any longer.
Their children needed their real Ammī.*
I was excited about the possibilities and thrilled just like any 64 year old Hindu getting a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy for the first time.
Suddenly my excitement turned into anxiety as I didn’t know when it would all go down.
What if Rizwānah Nadīm, changed her mind now that things became more real?
How would we have sex and what did I need to be prepared for Rizwānah Nadīm?
Even at her forty eight, Rizwānah Nadīm never looked more than forty.
I called her Bhābhījān.
She never tried to cross the line my address to her established between us.
In this age of even aggressive and bold incest, while none of my stepsisters, none of my stepdaughters and even so many of my step Ammīs unashamedly refused to maintain any platonic relationship with me, Rizwānah Nadīm Bhābhījān was a great honourable woman for me.
I really respected her very much, even while I felt immediate erection even if she was present around me anywhere.
It was more commendable when her Nanads and sisters were entirely unashamed nudists, feminists and most of them even raped me.
But, even Rizwānah Nadīm Bhābhījān was perhaps tired of her platonic relationship with me, now.
I had mixed reaction.
My lust said I should fuck Rizwānah Nadīm Bhābhījān immediately.
Yet, my morals said I should stop her from falling.
First thing that came to mind was a trim of my pubic hair and taking a shower to be ready at any moment.
Trimming down there made my Uncut Hindu Cock look even bigger.
I thought Rizwānah Nadīm would appreciate it if she sucked me off.
I had recently measured my Uncut Hindu Cock at 9 inches and I doubted Aħmad Ħabīb had it bigger.
I wondered if we would double penetrate her as I looked at the clock anxiously.
I couldn’t imagine Aħmad Ħabīb leaving his wife entirely for me.*
It was 6:24 pm now.
Rizwānah Nadīm would be home from work any minute.
My thoughts were broken by a knock on the door.
“Be down at the living room at seven.”
My heart raised as Aħmad Ħabīb’s words resounded in my head.
I stood up and began pacing back and forth as I was only minutes away from something special.
What exactly would happen I didn’t know, but that everything would be set in motion this Friday night made me ecstatic.
Rizwānah Nadīm had arrived home.
I heard both of them walk into their room.
It only increased the excitement for me.
My mouth was dry and my Uncut Hindu Cock was stiff as I kept looking back at the clock.
In two minutes I would make my way downstairs and embrace the Moment.
Whatever happened would be fine except a change of heart from my friend and his ever righteous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
It was a minute past seven when I gathered myself to make my way into the living room.
Aħmad Ħabīb was in the kitchen grabbing a drink as I sat down on the couch.
“Hey are you ready? Your Rizwānah Nadīm Bhābhījān will be down here any second.”
We both had sleepwear shirts on, but Aħmad Ħabīb was only wearing his boxers.
It was comforting to hear Aħmad Ħabīb’s calm voice and see him take a seat next to me.
He was willing to share his wife with me and begin an Ashvinātam relationship so I felt confident next to him.
It was obvious to me now that as most of my rest of the Musalmān friends, Aħmad Ħabīb too needed my sexual services to keep his ever efficient Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Rizwānah Nadīm Bhābhījān, with him.
“Yeah sure. What are we going to do?” I tried to act as nonchalantly as possible.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was getting uncomfortable under my shorts.
I took them off, but let my boxers on.
I could feel my head touching the fabric which made my Uncut Hindu Cock twitch.
“Blowjobs tonight and then we will take it from there.” Aħmad Ħabīb relaxed back and finished his drink.
I grabbed my shaft and pressed it with my left hand as I knew that I would be getting my first blowjob from his wife, Rizwānah Nadīm Bhābhījān, tonight.
Well, what a graceful Musalmān lady.
Next thing I knew Rizwānah Nadīm was walking down the stairs wearing a matching set of yellow lingerie with white polka dots.
She quickly made her way to the table in front of us and grabbed a black blindfold.
“Alright boys sit back and let me do the work. Don’t worry Durgesh, everything will be fine.”
Aħmad Ħabīb pulled down his boxers and I followed suit.
Rizwānah Nadīm kneeled in front of Aħmad Ħabīb with a smile as I ogled her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.*
I stood over Aħmad Nadīm’s body, seething with rage.
Aħmad Nadīm was drunk and bloody.
He didn’t show up that way. Well, not bloody anyway.
I walked in at the wrong time. For him.
I had been out playing my sex game with my Musalmān lady friends.
We met every Sunday afternoon and played a pick-up game with whoever else showed up to the field behind the National Guard Armory.
After about two hours of full-contact Sex game, I was sweaty, gritty, scraped up, yet never exhausted even then.
A few of us stopped off to eat some pizza before I drove home.
My stomach knotted up when I saw Aħmad Nadīm’s truck in the driveway.
I parked at the curb and as soon as I rounded the bumper of my car I heard Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, yelling with a return from Aħmad Nadīm.
I burst forth in a run across the lawn when I heard a sharp scream from Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl.
I had heard that scream before, countless times whenever I stayed with them.
It was the immediate response to the hand across her face, usually knocking her to the ground.
I burst through the front door, never stopping to close it.
I kept running through the narrow hall, following the noise of repeated smacks peppered through constant begging and crying.
As I rounded the corner, breaking the rule of removing my shoes before walking on the carpet, I saw Aħmad Nadīm bent over, his hand wrapped around Al Nādirah Al Jamāl’s bicep, her form cowering on the floor.
His hand was back over his head for another blow as he spit insults at her.
His “bitch” was cut off when my shoulder caught him under the arm, his feet leaving the ground before he landed on his side on the living room carpet.
Aħmad Nadīm didn’t have time to recognize my face before my left hand had a fistful of t-shirt and my right fist smashed into his bearded face repeatedly.
It wasn’t until Al Nādirah Al Jamāl screamed at me to stop that I came out of my rage and stood up, dropping Aħmad Nadīm onto the carpet.
I shoved him onto the carpet.
“Get the hell out! If I ever saw you in this house again, I’ll send you to jail! I swear I will!”
It was hard to see with the righteous rage in my eyes.
Aħmad Nadīm was blurry, but I could tell his bearded face was spattered with blood.
Aħmad Nadīm was barely moving, but he groaned.
Aħmad Nadīm was obviously dazed, which was a step further from death than I had wished, but there it was.
Naturally Aħmad Nadīm wasn’t in any position to leave on his own, so again the responsibility fell to me.
His responsibilities had always fallen to me.
I pulled him up by his arm, enough to get my other arm around his ribs.
As much as I wanted to drag him out by his feet instead, I carried him like a drunken friend, dragging him to the front door and off the porch, literally dropping him on the lawn.
Confident Aħmad Nadīm wasn’t going back into the house, I walked next door and knocked on Mrs. Zahīruddīn’s front door.
After a moment, she opened it.
Her face showed that she knew what I needed.
“I’ll get the camera,” she said.
Mrs. Zahīruddīn had lived next door to Aħmad Nadīm for as long as they’d lived there.
When we moved in, Mrs. Zahīruddīn and her husband didn’t have any children of their own.
She treated me like family, to get some sons from me.
I was reputed to give sons to Musalmān Beauties and beautiful Musalmān houseladies without even a single failure ever.
They were a few years older than us, her husband a retired Air Force colonel who became a golf pro, and she spent her time volunteering with charities.
The first time she let on that she knew, we had lived there about two years.
Years later, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, told me the story.
after she had requested me go get Mrs. Zahīruddīn.
After Mrs. Zahīruddīn came and took some pictures, sending me out of the room while she did so, I asked Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, about it.
Taking a deep breath and patting her bed, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, sat down on the edge and I took a seat as she had invited.
“A few years ago, your friend, Aħmad Nadīm, and I had a fight. You and Åāyeshah Aħmad Nadīm were at a club and your friend, Aħmad Nadīm, was drunk. Again. Unsurprisingly, it got heated quickly and your friend, Aħmad Nadīm, started in on me. When he had his fill of beating me, he left. I cleaned up and went outside to trim the rose bushes. Gardening has always comforted me, you know.”
“As I worked on the roses, I didn’t hear her walk up, but she had approached the fence and caught me off-guard. ‘Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, are you all right?’ she asked. I thought I was, but I just started crying. Maybe it was too fresh or maybe it was just that she asked. She immediately pulled me to her and hugged me over the fence.” She laughed a little and said, “I remember the thorns digging into my hip and leg, but didn’t want to say anything. When I had settled down, she invited me to her house for tea. While we were there she told me that she had heard us several times, but didn’t want to make things worse for me by imposing. That day, however, she said she had had enough. She had been doing some research and called a friend of hers at social services who works with victims of abuse. She said the best thing to do is to be a safe place.
“So Mrs. Zahīruddīn offered to help me build a case if I ever decided to press charges or file for divorce. Or…to help the police if something…should happen to me.” She took a deep breath. “So she took me upstairs and took pictures of my injuries while they were fresh. She keeps them in a safe place so your friend, Aħmad Nadīm, can’t find them in our house and get rid of them. She’s been taking pictures ever since.”
I can’t count the times I’ve been to Mrs. Zahīruddīn’s house at Al Nādirah Al Jamāl’s request.
Somehow she was always able to treat Aħmad Nadīm as if she didn’t know what he had been doing.
Up until the separation last year, that is.
Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, had finally had enough and kicked him out, threatening to call the police.
She still hasn’t called them and she hasn’t filed for divorce.
I think mostly she just wanted to feel safe, not be single.
A separation means hope, but a divorce doesn’t.
Mrs. Zahīruddīn followed me back over to the house.
As we rounded Aħmad Nadīm’s truck at the end of the driveway, she stopped and gasped, “Oh, my.”
“Yeah,” I cleared my throat. “I, uh…” I was suddenly embarrassed and looked down.
“I see,” she said with a smirk, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go take care of your friend’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl.”*
When we got inside, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, was still curled up against the wall where I left her, but now she was crying.
I felt like a stupid for not coming back in to check on her.
What a dick move.
I rushed over to her and knelt down beside her.
“Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife.”
She looked at me, her eyes red with tears, and her left cheekbone swollen.
She had blood streaking out of her left nostril and her lip was cut open.
“I’m sorry I left you. Are you okay?” She placed her hand on my hand and nodded, reassuring me that she was not upset with me.
She knew the necessary routine.
She looked past me to see Mrs. Zahīruddīn standing behind me.
“Oh, .Tāhirah Saåīd, I’m so sorry to call you again.” She began to cry again.
Mrs. Zahīruddīn was at her other side in a blink, talking as she crouched down, the camera hanging from her wrist by the strap as she reached around Al Nādirah Al Jamāl’s shoulders.
“Believe me, dear, you’re not the one who should be apologizing.”
Again Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, nodded.
Carefully, we helped Al Nādirah Al Jamāl to her feet, me on one side, Mrs. Zahīruddīn on the other.
They didn’t even bother asking me to leave the room this time like they usually did.
Mrs. Zahīruddīn just began taking pictures from different angles, making sure not to miss any wounds.
“Durgesh,” she called.
I snapped out of my haze.
“Ma’am, Tāhirah Saåīd?”
“Why don’t you go get something to help me clean her up while I finish this?”
“Yeah, sure.” I turned and went upstairs to grab a washcloth, some cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide, then halfway down the hall, I remembered I’d better get ointment just in case and returned to the bathroom before bounding down the stairs.
I u-turned the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.
Mrs. Zahīruddīn was snapping pictures of Al Nādirah Al Jamāl topless.
But that wasn’t what surprised me.
Aħmad Nadīm’s wife, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl, had her back to me, so all I saw was her back, but she had large welts and bruises across her back and around her upper arms where Aħmad Nadīm was fond of grabbing her.
At my voice, Al Nādirah Al Jamāl jumped and hugged herself as if hiding her breasts which I couldn’t see anyway.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam