Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh

Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 8

Posted: August 14, 2014 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī, Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar, Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī, Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī, Dr. Tasnīm Jamāl, Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr, Durgesh, Feminism, Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Times, HVS Law Internationals, Imam Dr. Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, Imran Khan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Tahir ul Qadri, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Narendr Modi, Narendra Modi, Professor Narendrnāth Sharmā, Seven Movements, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Ibrāhīm, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Ħāfizah Ashraf | Leave a comment

Fa qatulū almusharikīn

Chapter 8

Durgesh Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī

Durgesh Dr. Saåīdah Qamar

I looked at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.

“Well, the will is a public document. It can be read by anyone after probate. Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, didn’t want, naturally, to invite speculation about his relationship with Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī grimaced.

“Everyone isn’t as bold as you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“You never tried to hide your relationships with women until and unless the women themselves requested you to do so.”

“Well, Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq had allowed Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī to keep it clandestine. It was their personal matter.”

“Speculation!” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī chuckled, “The old hypocrite. Everyone knows Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī kept her from day one. He must have left her something in the will too.”

“Well, you know he didn’t leave Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq nothing. It’s only that Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq isn’t in his will. Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq was provided for a year before the death of Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, at the beginning of his last illness.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched me apprehensively.

“I made his will for our firm HVS Law Internationals. Still Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī never told me what he gave to Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq.”

“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is trying to know asking you every now and then, you told me.” I was grave now, “It’s better you don’t know it.”

“Well, I want to know it myself.”

“I promised Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī and Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq, both, never to tell it to anyone. I’m sorry it wouldn’t be right for me to go into that, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī. There is a confidentiality in a relationship between─”

“I know, I know,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī interrupted, “I just wondered how he felt about Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq at the end. Did he leave her the flat?”

“What if he did? Why Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is interested in it?” I said somewhat curtly, “It wasn’t Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s money. It wasn’t his flat. His father Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī built it with his own money. Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī could give him to any black thief even if he wanted to. Tell him if he tries to know again, it’s none of his business.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.

“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī suspects you fucked Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq even while his father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, was alive.”

“The only person that could object it was Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, not Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.” I said curtly, “Tell the stupid not to interfere with my affairs. Otherwise, even his Ammī wouldn’t be capable to save him.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.

“I’ve already advised the bastard accordingly.*

I looked at her.
“Damn it, Ħāfizah Ashraf, that’s one of you, my beloveds’, daughter you’re talking about. I want her here.”

“One of us, your beloveds’, daughter? I saw how she was looking at you! Not very daughterly, Durgesh.”

“Ħāfizah Ashraf ─”

“NO! You know I wanted you to fuck me out there by the pool, for reason. You just don’t want to share my attention. She’s such a homely dorky little thing anyway.”

I stared at Ħāfizah Ashraf gravely.
“Let me remind you, Ħāfizah Ashraf, you are my friend’s daughter actually, not a cook. You are living here with me only acting as my cook. Your Abbū, my friend, left you here only to help me for cooking until he didn’t find a suitable cook for me. You lied to him that the Musalmān terrorists were seeking you because they thought you are living in relationship with me, erroneously. My friend thought you are safer here with me in that case, than with him. I suspected your intentions ab initio. That’s why when you fucked me while I was sleeping; we have a Close Circuit TV recording of everything what you did with me.”
Ħāfizah Ashraf smiled.
“And you think, my Abbū, never knew what I was after?”
“Well?”
“He knows everything.”
Silence followed.

Suraiyā Ibrāhīm made a lot of noise as she came down the last few steps and turned into the kitchen.
I was pouring a juice for me and Ħāfizah Ashraf’s back was turned.
The air vibrated with tension.
I looked up and I was graver.

“Suraiyā Ibrāhīm cat, you look ─” I left my sentence incomplete.

Ħāfizah Ashraf turned to see and her mouth dropped open.
Suraiyā Ibrāhīm thought it was the closest she would ever come to a Cinderella Moment.
I walked over to her taking in every inch of her skin hugging, low cut, sophisticated black dress.
I reached out and fingered the delicate string of pearls.
My knuckles brushed her collarbone and sent goose bumps racing across her skin.
Then I turned and stuck my arm out like a proper gentleman.

“Madame, may I escort you to dinner?”

Suraiyā Ibrāhīm giggled at the unexpected joke and took my arm.
We strolled into the dining room leaving Ħāfizah Ashraf standing in the kitchen with her mouth hanging open.
I pulled her chair out and slid it under her, then seated myself.
Ħāfizah Ashraf stomped in the room with dinner plates.
She slammed down the chicken Caprese in front of Suraiyā Ibrāhīm and me so hard, our silverware rattled.
She left and returned with three glasses and started pouring sweet tea.

“This looks delicious, Ħāfizah Ashraf.” Suraiyā Ibrāhīm said trying to break the remaining tension.

“Oh thank you, dear,” Ħāfizah Ashraf replied with barely hidden sarcasm. “I’m sure you just love LOOKING at things.”

“Ħāfizah Ashraf!” my voice was raised. “Thank you for all your hard work today. Why don’t you take the night off? I think the robot maid can do the cleaning up.”

Ħāfizah Ashraf turned to me, silent, eyes wide.

“Good night, Ħāfizah Ashraf.” my voice was deep and threatening.

Ħāfizah Ashraf stood, unmoving, for a long uncomfortable Moment and then rushed out slamming every door on her way.*

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī enquired again.
“Did Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī let Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq keep her condo?”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked you it too?”
“He is very inquisitive.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī looked at me gravely.
“I see. Try to squeeze him more why he is so inquisitive? Have any idea?”
“Not until now.”
“Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī gave the condo to Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq years ago. Moreover, he made Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq a cash settlement too. A generous cash settlement. She is already living in comfort herself.”
“I see,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī digested the information.
It wasn’t easy to get any information from me about my clientele if it weren’t utmost necessary for her to know.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was my associate attorney, as well as my live in relationship partner too, yet my clientele’s privacy was still a sacred thing I always guarded carefully.
That was why my clientele have faith in me more than they had in other lawyers, consultants and sex therapists.

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was too inquisitive.
“How much of the estate did Abbū leave me, ma’am, actually?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī had regarded him apprehensively.
“As I said the bulk of it. About the three quarters of it went to your sister, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī.”
“Well, it isn’t any surprise. He never hid he thought Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī Bājī more efficient than I am. We differed only in one matter. Abbū claimed it was her own intelligence and I claimed it was Durgesh that was guiding her.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī retorted.
It wasn’t Al Nādir Al Ghāzī alone that attributed the Musalmān women’s intelligence to Durgesh, almost the entire Musalmān mankind did it.
Because it was a fact?
Well, somewhat it was true even, yet not to the extent, they claimed.
The Musalmān womankind herself wasn’t as stupid as they thought.
“How much?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked.
“To Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī?”
“To me.”
“I should estimate─ a worth of over a billion dollars.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī sat down.
“Give me the rest of it, please,”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī couldn’t decide Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was really polite or he was especially polite to her because she was associated with Durgesh.
“What about the newspapers?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked patiently.
“Well, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, your Abbū, gave most of the newspapers to your elder sister, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī. But there are still five left.”
“I’m interested in only one,” said Al Nādir Al Ghāzī patiently, yet with obvious efforts now to keep his patience, “The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Abbū’s flagship paper. The others are not rags. Yet, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, that’s important. I agreed with Abbū that I would let him give his three quarters of estate to Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī Bājī if he gives The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah to me. He left me that, didn’t he?”
“Ah, yes,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī fumbled with the pages of the document, “Yes, I was about to get to that.”*

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was impatient, but he didn’t want to show his impatience to Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Seven Movements Musalmān Beauties Brigade was constantly advertising everywhere deliberately that the Musalmān mankind was always impatient not to understand anything ever.
They always acted without trying to understand the entire things their opponents wanted to hide from them ever under their well-guarded secret strategy.
That’s why their brain never developed optimum.
The Musalmān womankind had always to live under their never understanding Musalmān mankind.
It was necessary therefore to use their brain as much as it was possible for them.
That’s why their brain developed more than the brain of their Musalmān mankind.
It was the matter of survival for the Musalmān womankind.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī always tried his best to prove this claim wrong.
He controlled himself.
“What’s there to get to?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī tried to smile, “It’s my Abbū’s one possession that matters to me utmost. That paper made him famous, until he became inattentive. I grew up on that paper. I know what to do with it. It is mine now, isn’t it?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī enjoyed the situation.
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī knew his son’s inhumane terrorist intentions.
He also knew Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was dying to fulfill them through The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
He wasn’t intelligent enough to understand that it became famous not due to its excellent journalism.
It represented Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ever infamous Seven Movements instead, clandestinely.
It was advertised orally everywhere by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Seven Movements Brigade.
They always purchased it.
They always advertised it.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never understood behind every successful newspaper and news channel there was a well-organized political organization represented by it, clandestinely.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī turned the pages of the will.
“Well, as to that, yes and no,” she said.
She found what she wanted and reread it to herself.
“Concerning The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, there is a restrictive clause.”
“I see. What’s that?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was surprised to find Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was still patient.
He still wasn’t impatient even a bit.
It was a miraculous positive change in Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī has died waiting for it.
Nevertheless, ultimately Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī had succeeded to improve his otherwise rotten son to behave more intelligent for his own success.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī praised Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī genuinely but not openly.
She doubted Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s apparent patience heavily.
“Your Abbū bequeathed the newspaper to you but there is a restrictive condition.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī said patiently.
“What condition?”
“It’s an odd clause.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched Al Nādir Al Ghāzī carefully, “I remember when he inserted it.”
“Let’s come to the point.”
“You’re to have The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, of course. But conditionally, for a trial year. During that year you must at some point exceed the daily circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times. If you can do that just once, the paper is yours permanently. If you fail, the newspaper must perforce be sold to Dr. Saåīdah Qamar of the Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times. Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had made your Abbū an offer some months before his death. Yet, of course, that clause is inoperative if…”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī could not listen to her anymore.
His immediate reaction was,
‘The bastard Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot lover pervert. He always loved to lick Musalmān Cunts and female Musalmān ass, and clean them, after Durgesh fucked them. He was suffering from cancer and he believed it would cure him. Coincidentally he really was cured. The ever superstitious damn fool believed it was due to what he was doing, licking and cleaning the beautiful Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of his beautiful Musalmān houseladies after Durgesh fucked them. Even Durgesh said it was a coincidence only. Yet he never believed Durgesh even. He believed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan instead that was already running ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement’. He was a pervert bastard that was supported by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. He succeeded because his success was beneficial to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. He didn’t have any talent whatsoever as it’s claimed everywhere.’

Yet, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī didn’t say it.
Instead, he said.
“Abbū always thought Dr. Saåīdah Qamar more intelligent than me, his own son. I’m glad that at least he gave me my chance. I have to prove myself more intelligent than Abbū’s real younger sister, my aunt, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar Buā? Okay.”*

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked at Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr.
It was more than obvious, Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr was worried.
“Narendr has promised to do everything he can.” Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr said.
“I don’t think he can do very much. The Pakistani High Commissioner deliberately did it and I am sure Narendr Modi would never tolerate it.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar said gravely.
Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr clenched her fist.
“The separatists once more succeeded in keeping Pakistan separate from mainstream. Nawaz Sharif tried his best, but Imran Khan and Muħammad Tahir ul Qadri found it detrimental to their own political career.”*

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī looked at Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
“Your Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, was immensely influenced by Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr. Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr was actually his friend, philosopher and guide.”
“That was the actual problem the most of the Musalmīn hated my Abbū.” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said scornfully.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled sarcastically.
“I don’t think so, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Your Abbū was a more respected figure among journalists than you can even imagine.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī controlled himself.
Allah, how the hell he forgot Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was an ardent fan of Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr and Professor Narendrnāth Sharmā both.
Despite the fact that Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr and Professor Narendrnāth Sharmā never married they were one of the most successful couples of Global fame.
They had ten sons.
Imam Dr. Aurangzeb Åālamgīr was the eldest of the ten sons Professor Narendrnāth Sharmā and Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr had.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was proud of herself that she meticulously succeeded in keeping her live in relationship with me clandestine.
Her shrewd co wives, Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī, Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī and Dr. Tasnīm Jamāl were themselves not born yesterday.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was thirty-three now.
Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī was thirty two, Dr. Tasnīm Jamāl was thirty one and Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī was too around somewhere the same age group.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had found Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī and Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī to grab my Uncut Hindu Lund every now and then playfully.
It was really a miracle to her that none of the both had still succeeded in having sex with me formally, despite the long three years that had passed.
It was difficult to decide among them who was more beautiful and cunning.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was the one actually.
She was sucking me now, giving me an extraordinary blowjob.
“Hey Durgesh, you got an itch there?” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar joked.

“Why? You want to scratch it?” I teased her back.

“Hey, you’re being bad, now.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar mockingly replied.

“Oh, I think you can handle it,” and I gave Dr. Saåīdah Qamar the big grin, one more in a series of them we’d seemed to share.

“I don’t know, let’s see,” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar said and leaned toward me in my chair holding my hands out and motioning to me.

“Huh?” I wasn’t sure where Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was headed.

“Come here and sit up,” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar instructed, and when I did, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my right hand into her hands and turned it so it faced palm forward and fingers up.
I looked at Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was close enough now to smell my musky and distinctive scent.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar held my hand up with her left hand and then she pressed her right hand against mine.

In a low voice, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked me in the eyes and slowly said, “Durgesh, I think you’re right. … I think I can handle it.”

There was no mistake what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar meant.

There was no longer a smile on either of our faces, but there was an intensity and closeness ready to explode.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar then surprised me, saying,
“There’s a bathroom in the pool house if you need to use it. I’m gonna get some more beer out of there to take in the house.”

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked at me with a grin as Dr. Saåīdah Qamar stood, not saying a word.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar must have been out of her mind, because Dr. Saåīdah Qamar tugged the wrap from my waist and just let it fall to the ground, leaving her little bikini facing me and just inches from my face.
I paused and let me stare.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar then turned and walked up toward the pool house.

What was Dr. Saåīdah Qamar thinking?
From inside, if anyone had been looking, it’d have been like Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was taking it off right there in my face, teasing me and working me up all the more.
And then, when Dr. Saåīdah Qamar walked up toward the pool house, well …for me to just shake her tight Musalmān ass back and forth, knowing good and well I was looking.
It probably would’ve looked even obscene.
Nevertheless, no one was looking.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar got inside the pool house and it was dark, given the late afternoon/ early evening time.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar didn’t turn on a light, and she didn’t hear if I was coming in behind her.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar just made her way to the room in the back that did have some light barely shining through.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar still didn’t hear me coming inside the pool house.
Yet, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar didn’t turn around or pause.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was confident there was no question I was coming in the house and coming into this bathroom.
I was coming for Dr. Saåīdah Qamar, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar realized.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked into the mirror and smiled at my reflection, “you are really, really a bad girl.”

Then Dr. Saåīdah Qamar jumped.
She was startled by seeing me now standing behind Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
We were looking now at each other in our reflections.

Nothing was said as I moved closer behind Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my utmost experienced Hindu hands on her perfectly round, firm, gorgeous, ever glamorous, heavy, big, plump, excellent, exquisite, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks and then my Hindu male lips on her neck.
My lips kissed gently at her neck as my arms enveloped Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
My arms held Dr. Saåīdah Qamar close to me and for the first time Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was aware of my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund pressing her.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt the contour of it in her shorts as it snaked down my leg.
I felt very hard.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar raised her hands up over her head to reach behind her for my face and hair, stroking me and letting me have unfettered access to her top.
I reached around, and in one motion, I rubbed under the bikini top and had my hands on her bare Musalmān tits.
They were just a little bigger than my handfuls, but the nipples were large and thick.
They got thicker as I rubbed her beautiful Musalmān tits and pulled on her nipples, making Dr. Saåīdah Qamar hum.

After I had had my way with her beautiful Musalmān tits for a while, I wanted to know the effect I was having on the thirty-three years old, young, extremely beautiful, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
I was grateful to her husband that he suspected his entire extremely beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wives were having extramarital affair with me.
It was not so then.
Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī and Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī were only teasing him grabbing my Uncut Hindu Lund before him, but Dr. Saåīdah Qamar wasn’t doing even that.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar did it when her husband actually deserted them on erroneous suspicions.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my right hand in the both of her hands and slowly moved it down her front, never letting it leave her soft Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān skin.
My rugged and calloused hand was a nice contrast to her young soft Musalmān skin, as we both watched what she was doing in the mirror.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar stopped my hand with her right hand, as it cupped her tummy.
I pressed slightly feeling her softness there.
Then, when she was sure I had my eyes looking in the mirror at my hand right above her crotch, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my left hand and pulled open her bikini bottom, pulling it down somewhat in the process.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let me see the blondish-brown curls nestled atop her special little place down there.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar then looked into my eyes in the reflection, as her right hand pushed my right hand on downward until my palm cupped her beautiful mound.
I definitely did press forward then.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let my head fall back on the nook between her shoulder and neck when Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt those thick Uncut Hindu Lund wiggle at her Musalmān gash.

I felt her juices soak my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar moaned a low and throaty response as I worked my Uncut Hindu Lund over and around her pussy lips, then plunging it inside her.

“AAAAHHHH…” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar groaned as I plundered her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot unrestricted.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar bucked against my Uncut Hindu Lund, and I obliged Dr. Saåīdah Qamar by pushing my Uncut Hindu Lund deeper, using my thumb to graze over her hard clit.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was as turned on as she had ever been before.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar didn’t care now, if the entire world watched, because this was what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar wanted and what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar needed.
She had to have me.

I sensed this, as Dr. Saåīdah Qamar released her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot from my Uncut Hindu Lund, and then pushed her upper torso forward so that her upper body was now lying over the tile counter.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt her legs spread her stance apart, shifting her legs. Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let out a little crying sound at the feeling of being totally in my control and bent over to my will.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked up into the mirror and I disappeared behind her, descending out-of-view.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked straight ahead.
She was close to the mirror and my reflection, wondering what was to come next.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my hands at her smooth pink Musalmān thighs, a gentle lifting motion putting her a little higher onto the counter.
I was basically doing what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar wanted to her, and her body was completely mine to have.

It was then that Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my Uncut Hindu Lund nudge between her legs from behind and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my Uncut Hindu Lund touch her ravenous Musalmān clit.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let out a yelp at the surprise of this.
and then Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my Uncut Hindu Lund trace slowly from the front of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, into and onto the lips of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and pull back up into her backside.
I rubbed at her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot two or three times , dragging my Uncut Hindu Lund through her as she groaned.
I was tasting juices around my Uncut Hindu Lund that were flowing freely.
There was a pause where Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt nothing for a moment and then Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt me drag my Uncut Hindu Lund from the back of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot slowly up the crack of her beautiful Musalmān ass.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had never felt anything like that before and the sheer wantonness of it made her come and come hard, as I ran my Uncut Hindu Lund around her Musalmān asshole and poked at her puckered Musalmān hole.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was dizzy with the sensations.
I again moved away from Dr. Saåīdah Qamar for a moment.
I stood and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar saw me behind her.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked at me in the mirror, and as our eyes met, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar winked mischievously.
I silently nodded.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund with her right hand and placed the head of it to her labial lips back there.
My left hand rested on her back, in effect keeping Dr. Saåīdah Qamar pinned.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar liked the sense of not having any control whatsoever, and I knew what was coming.
Her juices flowed.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar traced the unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lundhead back and forth, up and down her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty-three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips spreading her juices around and getting her good and ready.

After some of this teasing, I pushed a couple of inches inside of Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took in a deep breath, gasping loudly.
The thickness of my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund was something she was enjoying since past three years.
Thank goodness, I always knew what I was doing.
I let Dr. Saåīdah Qamar once more get used to me, only moving again once her opening had relaxed somewhat.

It was while I was gently rocking back and forth inside of Dr. Saåīdah Qamar that she did relax more.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar surprised me when she pushed back against me.
Even so, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar couldn’t get me more than half way inside on that push.
Nevertheless, it was the move I’d waited on.
Because I pulled back after a moment until I was just about out.
We caught each other’s look again in the mirror, and in that instant, I knew what was coming. I wondered if maybe─ just maybe─ she’d finally overdone it.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar thrust her perfectly round, firm, gorgeous, ever glamorous, heavy, big, plump, excellent, exquisite, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks hard against me and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar cried out.
It was both pain and intense pleasure, as I bore into Dr. Saåīdah Qamar with long powerful Hindu strokes.

I was now fucking Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and fucking Dr. Saåīdah Qamar hard.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had no control or movement to it, instead I held her on to the counter and I took Dr. Saåīdah Qamar repeatedly.
I was incredibly hard and filled Dr. Saåīdah Qamar up with each downstroke.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar made noises and groaned, and I distinctly remembered the expression “fucking like animals”—this is what it was.
Just primal pounding of Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and me going at it, and nothing but our panting and the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room.
None knew how long it continued similarly.

The orgasms and sensations flowed over her.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar thought Dr. Saåīdah Qamar might really pass out. After a while, I was close and I pushed in deeper.
I was close and I held my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund deepest in her extremely beautiful, extremely enticing, extremely lovely, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot .
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar fell to her knees, facing opposite me.
Her beautiful, extremely enticing, extremely lovely, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks fitted my nude Hindu lap optimum.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked behind at me.
I looked down at her, and then with my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund between us I pumped it into her.
My come shot into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
After the first few threads, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar closed her labial lips around my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund, sucking the last drops from my thick head, her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes locked to mine.
We both were now savoring our intense love for each other.
She never knew she loved and needed me so much.
Allah!

Chapter 9
——————————————————————–

Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 6

Posted: July 15, 2014 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Friedrich Engels, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kħadījah Muħammad, life sciences, Lord Parashurām, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Kamāluddīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, Siddīq-e-Åāzam, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, The Origin of Family Private Property and the State, Yazīd malåūn | Leave a comment

Fa qatulū almusharikīn

Chapter 6

Durgesh Åāliyah Kamāluddīn
Mecca Fataħ
Durgesh Al Jihad Al Vaqār

He smiled.
“Durgesh never doubted that it was the very thing we ourselves wanted?”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn too smiled cunningly at her Musalmān husband.
“You have yourself watched the entire video in trimension, haven’t you? Decide yourself.”
“He still thinks our movement ‘Al Jihad fil Durgesh fī sabīlillah’ is only what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thinks it is?”
“Muħammad Kamāluddīn, You yourself have entered numerous affirmations and transmissions in between our videos and spread them everywhere as our porn videos. Haven’t we gotten positive results always?”
“Sure, if it weren’t so, we would have already abandoned this utopian scheme you Musalmān houseladies proposed.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always right, I told you.” Åāliyah Kamāluddīn said triumphantly enthusiastically, “Our code Mecca Fataħ has worked with Al Ghausiyah Al Imtiyāz and it’s still working with us. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said it starts the time cycle of Mecca Fataħ once we announce it with Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Cock inside us.”
“Is it too Bījāxar now?” Muħammad Kamāluddīn smiled triumphantly at his extremely beautiful wife.
“There, my dear husband, I’m sure, I can’t help you. I don’t know the Ultimate Science behind it they call Eīshān Vigyān.”

Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was still lying on her back.
Muħammad Kamāluddīn, her husband was between her legs.
He was eating her dazzling Musalmān Cunt.
Muħammad Kamāluddīn couldn’t deny since Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was fucking Durgesh, her already dazzling Musalmān beauty was becoming more and more dazzling.
He didn’t know his aids was being cured or not.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan advised him to lick his Musalmān houseladies’ Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunts and even their Musalmān ass after Durgesh fucked them.
“The entire Pseudo Musalmān terrorism is immensely against Islam, Muħammad Kamāluddīn.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had put her right palm on his head, “See yourself. Your entire mujāhidīn are now suffering from aids, cancer etc. ever incurable diseases. Only their own Musalmān houseladies can cure them if they fuck Durgesh and let them lick their orgasmic secretions from right their sexual organs.”*

I asked Al Jihad Al Vaqār again,
“What did Al Nādir Al Ghāzī do then?”
“He went down to Mexico and had a talk with a lawyer. The Mexican lawyer advised Al Nādir Al Ghāzī he could establish a residence by some sort of proxy. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī says the Mexican lawyer made it sound pretty good. He got a Mexican divorce and we married afterwards in Mexico. We followed a procedure worked out by the Mexican lawyer. She seemed not only to know her business but also she was the best in this game.”
“Game?”
“What else is it?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār asked me contemptuously, “They have made marriage difficult and Live in Relationship easy. The damn fools are harming the very society they are there to protect.”
I agreed with her.
Since Friedrich Engels had written ‘The Origin of Family Private Property and the State’, the shallow thinkers were crazy to destroy family to destroy Private Property.
They forget that Communism has failed miserably politically everywhere only within Seventy-Two years of its coming into power.
In the ever-erroneous enthusiasm of destroying Private Property, Friedrich Engels had sown the seeds of destruction of family.
Friedrich Engels never understood the unique and irreplaceable function of family in human life.
Friedrich Engels’ theory that the humankind must destroy family to destroy Private Property to get rid of Corruption was only theory when it was proposed in 1884 AD.
It wasn’t practiced until then anywhere.
The people of the entire globe then, were so fed up of corruption dominant then everywhere that they agreed even to destroy the family to get rid of corruption.
However, it was the blunder actually they committed to get rid of their mistake.
They never realized it then and a lot of people don’t realize it even now, after more than a century even.

I asked gravely.
“And then what happened?”
“Well,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is worried about Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. In his opinion, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has suddenly turned bitter.”
“Suddenly?”
“That’s right. The damn fool still doesn’t understand there isn’t anything suddenly as far as Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is concerned. She never loved Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. She was after his money ab initio.”
I smiled.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is one of those self-deceiving men that love to live in dreams ever. They are always afraid of the cold and hard facts if they don’t support their ever utopian dreams.”
“But it’s immensely harmful to them, Durgesh.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār shuddered.
“I agree with you. Yet, most of us mankind are crazy to get feminine appreciation.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled cunningly.
“Are you telling me? We womankind understand it very well and immensely use it to get what we want from mankind.”
“The stupids like Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never understand it. Moreover, if even they realize it ever, they adamantly refuse to accept it. They deliberately deceive themselves that even if it’s right, they are an exception.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was horrified.
“Allah, you understand it too, Durgesh? Now, I think I know why no woman could dominate you ever. You, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, you are the ever greatest psychologist I’ve ever met in my life.”

Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched me scrutinizing.
Yet, she continued to say,
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb wants a property settlement. She wants things that would completely ruin Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
“That’s what Al Nādir Al Ghāzī should have thought of before marrying her.” I said curtly, “The women like Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb have always done the same things to their foolish husband in the entire history. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never took any lesson from history.”
“He thinks the money is everything. He never cared what a woman can do if he can have someone to defeat her with the power of his money.”
“That’s why Al Nādir Al Ghāzī gave Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb his mine in New Mexico and his media empire in Ved Nagar to you?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
“What do you think?”
“What do you want from me?”
“The media empire Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has given to me is still not completely transferred to my name legally. The process is taking more time than I’d anticipated.”
“So?”
“I want you to expedite the process and protect my interests in the meantime.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled at me seductively, “I’m one of your countless Musalmān lady friends that enjoy even the ultimate intimacy with you. Even if I’m not your Live in Relationship partner in your opinion…”
“That doesn’t make any difference. You said I’ve impregnated you,”
“There,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said gravely, “You promised me he’d be my son.”
“I won’t snatch away him from you ever, never worry. I’ve never snatched away any son of mine from his mother whether she lives with me, single, or with her duly married husband. Countless husbands think they have fathered their son from their duly married wives while actually I’ve fathered them. I never broke their illusion.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār put her arms around my neck.
Then she kissed me full on my lips.
“You don’t know what you’ve given to me. I can lick your feet for that proudly forever.”
“Nonsense, we are friends as you say, and friends are equal.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār pushed me back.
I managed to fall on my back safely.
Immensely indebted, Al Jihad Al Vaqār undressed me herself.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has married again. He thinks Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb would never destroy him. I would never destroy him. He never imposed himself on either of us. He’d never be deceived. I hoped his Mexican divorce with Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb would be good. I wanted to find out something about it.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār undressed herself too.
“I’ll look into his Mexican divorce. Where is Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s first wife?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār straddled me.
She positioned my Uncut Hindu Cock between her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips and smiled at me mischievously.
“Want to fuck Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb too?”
“Why not? If she lets me.”
“She is here, in the city somewhere, but where? I don’t know. She telephoned Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from a pay station.”
“Pay station? Not from her mobile even?”
“She isn’t a fool enough to give Al Nādir Al Ghāzī any clue to her address.”
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has a lawyer?”
“She says she’s going to handle the property settlement by herself.”
“Doesn’t want to pay a lawyer’s fee?” I smiled.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was waiting for me to lift my waist up and enter her.
I didn’t.
I myself was enjoying the game of mutual teasing now.
“No,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said having my Uncut Hindu Cock between her labial lips only, not even rubbing it there, “she’s smarter than any two lawyers in the country. Present company excepted, of course. The Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bitch is damned clever. She was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s secretary before he married her. Moreover, believe me, my dear Hindu ‘husband’ of mine, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is one of those extraordinary actually smart women that certainly know their way around when it comes to business—an actually smart woman.”
“I see. By the way, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s present wife—was she down at your office last night?”
“What?”
“I thought I saw a light up there,” I informed her gravely, “I was looking out of the window.”*

Al Jihad Al Vaqār pushed herself on my rock hard Uncut Hindu Cock.
It entered her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt.
“I noticed light striking the upper landing of the fire escape. Your office is directly above mine.”
“That’s right.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “However, that isn’t anything unusual. My office is a media empire office. It’s open twenty four hours.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was engrossed in the document.
I advanced to the secretaire.
“I have perused the entire document once again, Durgesh.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī said gravely.
“I’ve too,” I said, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī hasn’t actually given his media empire to Al Jihad Al Vaqār. He has actually played a very clever game. He knew he couldn’t do what is required there. He got rid of it.”
“And challenged us in a way to do something to save it for Al Jihad Al Vaqār. He thinks even we can’t do anything.”
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb knows it?”
“I don’t think so. If she had she wouldn’t have playing the game she is playing now.”
“I love challenges, Al Hudā,”
“Are you telling me?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled, “I understand you now more. You never unsucceeded.”
“Until now,” I corrected her.
“Perhaps I have more faith in you than even you do have in yourself. We’ll again succeed, inshā’Allāh. I refuse to accept your correction.”
I hugged her, kissed and circled my arm around her slim waist.
“Thanks for boosting my morale.”
“You never did for yourself. You always did it for us Musalmān womankind. Didn’t you?”
I smiled patiently.
“Don’t get me wrong, Al Hudā. Womankind, yes. Yet, not always for Musalmān womankind only. I had to do it for my Brāhmañ wives too. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never cares to refer it in her speeches and talks. She tactically ignores it, to imply that I love you Musalmān Beauties only exclusively. Yet, it isn’t a fact, to be true exactly.”
“Nevertheless, mostly for us Musalmān Beauties, if not exclusively?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled looking at me anticipating my response in the affirmative.
I smiled.
“My Brāhmañ in laws are not as bad as my Musalmān in laws. The Brāhmañs were never militarized as Yazīd Malåūn and his bandit Mullahs and Maulavīs militarized the entire Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“The Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs are luckier than us. Yet, how is it possible that Brāhmañs were never militarized if Lord Bhagvān Parashu Rām did his famous military campaigns against the Xatriýs, the descendants of the Bachhalyās twenty one times in twenty one Kalps, eras?”
“You are right. Sorry I forgot that.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
“You accept your mistakes immediately, don’t you?”
“The sooner we accept our mistake the sooner we are improved.”
“I’d try to remember it. I never admit I’m mistaken if I can manage it ever.”
“That’s nothing individual. Most of the humankind do it and delay their progress in evolution.”
“Allah,”
“That’s right,”
I walked toward the elaborately carved French armchair resting next to the Noor Jahān fruitwood game table.
I settled in the armchair.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched me admiringly yet with a concern somewhat.
She didn’t try to come to me and sit on my lap as she always did.
“Worrying?” I smiled.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is playing some deep game we don’t even have any suspicion of,”
“Let him,”
“I never doubt your competence. Nevertheless, I’m not as optimistic of human beings as you are, Durgesh. Not even Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle is. He too criticizes you ruthlessly when he is filled against you to the brim,”
I smiled.
“I respect him.”
“You both have more faith in each other than in yourselves. The more Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle criticizes you openly for your ever impractical utopian humanity, the more his faith in you and your immense humanity increases.”
“He is an angel humanified.”
“Allah, you and your appreciation of him. No doubt Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Nafīsah Salmān Kħālājān can’t bear it ever.”
I laughed.

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī immediately entered in the subject.
“His Abbū was very much cautious when he instructed me to prepare the testament. He wanted you but you were too busy in defending the life of some framed ones that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s Abbū himself couldn’t insist on you any more. He had to compromise on me on your assurance that you promise to guide me always if there come any circumstances that would obstacle the fulfillment of his wishes.”
I didn’t say anything.
She was only forewording what I wanted to discuss with her.
Originally, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was one of my countless Salhajs, the countless Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives of the brothers of my Musalmān Live in Relationship partners.
Like most of them, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī didn’t have any complaints against her husband.
Yet, our companionship of most hours did not let her not to notice the unique attributes I had more than his own husband.
She fought her best not to fall in love with me as the other women did.
Nevertheless, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī couldn’t succeed.
She confided with her husband.
“I have to confess you something, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad.”
“I think I know,”
“What?”
“I’m not blind, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.”
“Sorry, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad. I failed to be your ever faithful wife.”
“I don’t think so,”
“What?”
“If you were not faithful to me, you could have surrendered to your heart and emotions already before discussing it with me. I don’t blame you.”
“Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad,”
“That’s what I said when we decided to come here.”
“Sorry, I thought Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī were feeling herself lonely and I hadn’t any confidence on Kħadījah Muħammad.”
“Do you want divorce?”
“That’s the problem I want to discuss with you.”
“What do you propose about our daughters? Sorry, even if I prepare myself to separate from you, I am unable to imagine even how I can live without my children.”
“That’s the problem with me too.”
“Our eldest daughter is only ten years old now. The second one seven, the third is five, the fourth is two years only. She needs you very much.”
“They all need me. I can’t do anything irresponsible ever that affects their development adversely. They need both the mother and father for their proper psychological development.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī controlled herself ultimately.
“Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, left him the bulk of his estate. He provided a trust for his daughters, granddaughters and his entire Musalmān houseladies related to him in any way. He gave the title to one of his seven hundred eighty six homes in various Islamic and other countries, to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s stepmother, Al Saåādat Al Mujāhid. Of his public holdings, the real estate wonder owned half the stock that he passed to his son, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Al Saåādat Al Mujāhid, of course, owned the other half always.”
I didn’t say anything.
I let Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī brief me.
I didn’t tell her that I myself had perused the entire document carefully before starting to discuss it with her.
I wanted to listen to her own version of the gist of the testament.
The second opinion always eliminated most of the possibilities of the individual mistakes.
That’s why the Democracy is always preferred on Autocracy.
No dictatorship ever as succeeded in the entire history of humankind as Democracy.
That’s why India has such a long history successfully while the other cultures have kept to rise and collapse in their due course.
India is famous for its Gañs, democratic states, Panchāyats.
The Rudrgañ even in the ancient times.
Islam, the last version of Vedic Monotheist Hinduism, is also famous for its Saħābiyāt, Saħābah and the fact that Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam never announced his replacement in the administration.
The Ummat-e-Muslimah decided her leader, Siddīq-e-Åāzam razī Allāhu Tålā ånahu.
“The other seven hundred eighty five homes went to Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s sisters, daughters and his other Musalmān houseladies. There were some token bequests. Mainly, minor shares in the TV channels, magazines and syndicate—to some of the old timers who have been in his employ for years. A dozen bequests to various distant relatives.”
“Yet, the rest to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.” I smiled, “The ranches—”
“Just about everything is Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s. The mines in Ved Nagar, Utah and Nevada. Oil wells in Rajasthan India, in Oklahoma and Texas. The chain of markets in Ved Nagar. The Ved Nagar real estate. The Ved Nagar merchant ships. The art works, except for a few he left to the Ved Nagar Museum.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī chuckled mischievously.
“Why the chuckle?” I myself smiled impishly.
“Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled naughtily, “Even Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, the Real Estate Wonder, could not mention her in his will.”

Chapter 7
—————————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

The Extent: Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband:25

Posted: March 21, 2014 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Åbdul Waħīd, Åāliyah Fārūq, Behavioural Science, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, Dr. Ali Sina, Durgesh, Feminism, life sciences, Lubnā Salīm, Mughal-e-Åāzam, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Ashfāq, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muhammad Akbar, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl | Leave a comment

The extent

Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband

Chapter 25

Durgesh Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān
The Conspiracy

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.”
I smiled.
“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.
Hadn’t they?

Chapter 26
————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

The Yacht: 9

Posted: February 26, 2014 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Nādir Al Ħaibat, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Åbdullah, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012 Volume 4

Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3

Ved Nagar Volume 2

The Yacht

Durgesh Al Saåīdah Al Wājid
Durgesh Al Taufīq Al Zāhid
Durgesh Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī

Chapter 9

The chief of police interfered now.
“I hope I don’t have to take you into custody for disturbing the peace, Ma’am.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled ironically.
“What a fool you are. You think I came here without anticipating your illegal dirty conspiracy with Muħammad Ůsmān? You idiot, I have an anticipatory bail already against your potential illegal arrest.”
The chief of police was startled.
“Never thought of it?” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled sweetly, “We know you scoundrels even more than you think. We are prepared for your every illegal attack whatsoever. You fatheaded nincompoop, I know you more than you think. You are just a shill for these gambling houses. I respect the honest police officers. But I know Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim have you right in their hip pockets. What do you think, I’m a damn fool that doesn’t even know the criminal activities of Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim were not possible so arrogantly without your dishonest illegal support to them? You don’t dare to hiccup unless Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim give you permission. Don’t tell me what I can do and what I can’t do!”
“You are using loud and profane language in a public place, Ma’am.” The chief of police said, “If you continue to make abusive statements of that sort in public, I’ll have to take action, despite your anticipatory bail even.”
“Sure, go ahead. For your kind information, damn fool, we have set hidden video cameras here transmitting everything to the media and your higher authorities. Oh, never anticipated that? I know. We have immense faith in your stupidities. I haven’t moved into profanity yet. I’m getting ready to, however. Believe me, dumb ass, when I do that I use some very biting adjectives, and a few nouns that may startle you. You…”
“Just a minute,” I interrupted, “Perhaps I can be of some help here.”*

Muħammad Ůsmān said sweetly.
“Sure, you are most welcome. It was impossible the scriptwriter hasn’t written any dialogue for himself too. Go ahead.”
I ignored him totally, as if Muħammad Ůsmān wasn’t anybody there.
“Ma’am, I think it might be better to control yourself. You never need to let some cheap crooks debate with you. It is somewhat a humiliation for a lady like you. Why make a personal demand while there’s a legal remedy available? I think a written demand made in a more formal manner through an attorney would do you better.”
Muħammad Ůsmān eyed me scornfully.
“Just keep fucking us innocent Musalmīn’s extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies you are good at. You aren’t any attorney any more. You have exploded the entire law you knew once, in the form of your dirty Hindu semen into the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunts of our extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Through an attorney? Haha! You know as well as I do that when a guy loses money gambling, he can’t get it back.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid laughed.
I smiled cunningly.
“Can’t he, Muħammad Ůsmān? Are you sure?”
Muħammad Ůsmān laughed sardonically.
“You are damn right, my wife fucker, my sister in law fucker, he can’t. Even if the game was crooked, he can’t. He was engaging in an illegal activity and—”
“Careful,” Al Nādir Al Haibat interposed, “Let us put it this way, Muħammad Ůsmān. There are certain contracts that are against public policy as far as the law is concerned. It’s against the policy of the law to raise those activities to the dignity of legitimate business enterprises. Therefore, the courts are not open to persons who have participated in those activities.”
“Never mind all that double talk,” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “Let’s give it to the multi-millionaire lady straight from the shoulder. Tell her despite her multi millions she can’t get a dime back legally. Durgesh has sweet-talked with her trying to seduce her. She must see herself in the mirror. She is an ever-irresistible Musalmān Beauty for the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu. He has fooled her talking with her immensely sweetly making her daydream, just to fuck her too as he is fucking the other Musalmān houseladies that are immensely beautiful. We sympathize with her.”
“That’s right, ma’am.” Al Nādir Al Haibat said with his toothy smile, “I know you are a successful businesswoman. But Durgesh is the most successful Muslimātchod Hindu in the entire history of humankind. He is an ever-incurable Musalmān Beauties fucker, beautiful Musalmān houseladies fucker. He has such immense incredible ever-incurable communal obsession to fuck our otherwise decent Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful. You can easily understand how things are in this regard. A person can’t sit in on a game at night, trying to win money, and then come back the next day and say that the activity was illegal. He wants the money back that he’s lost. If he could do that, he would keep all of his winnings, and then whenever he’d lost he’d recoup his losses. Now, Muħammad Ůsmān is in a legitimate business and—I hope our Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Prince Charming, Durgesh, hasn’t fucked you already by talking sweet to you and making you daydream.”*

Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled sarcastically, patronizing, feigning sympathy.
“You really think your beautiful Musalmān houseladies are as stupid and you Musalmīn are as powerless, as incompetent that Durgesh always succeeds to fuck your Musalmān Beauties, your beautiful Musalmān houseladies despite their inherent chastity and your entire efforts to keep them chaste?”
“Of course, ma’am, that’s what this Anant Muslimātchod Hindu is. You don’t know him exactly.”
“Are you really a damn fool or you are trying to pose yourselves so?”
“Ma’am,”
“The Musalmān Beauties and your beautiful Musalmān houseladies are not as vulnerable as you are trying to pose them, neither you Musalmīn are as powerless.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said curtly, “The fact is exactly contrary to what you are trying to present. The Musalmān Beauties and beautiful Musalmān houseladies that are Durgesh’s Live in relationship Partners and beloveds, are frequently interviewed by entirely unbiased, honest and sincere journalists. They tell different stories entirely.”
“Ma’am,”
“A large number of them were framed in first degree murders due to different reasons. Durgesh fought their cases, exposed their conspirators, sent them to jail. The relatives of those conspirators defamed those Musalmān Beauties and beautiful Musalmān houseladies with Durgesh, even while there wasn’t any such thing anywhere. Durgesh successfully fought the cases of defamation of character on their behalf and was rewarded large monetary compensations even.”
“You mean Durgesh doesn’t have any sexual relationship with our beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Musalmān Beauties?”
“Of course, Durgesh has. Yet they are consensual relationships, not conspiratorial or communal as you claim. You losers are either jealous of Durgesh or yourselves communal trying to defame Durgesh, those Musalmān Beauties and those beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Yet their bonds with Durgesh is as much stronger that the more you tried to defame them the more they loved each other.”
Muħammad Ůsmān and Al Nādir Al Haibat looked at each other.
“Durgesh has already successfully fucked her too.” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “Forget to save her from the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu scoundrel. No benefit in locking the stable after the horse is stolen.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid laughed curtly.
“I hope you’d prove in a competent court what you are accusing us of when we fight the case of defamation of character against you.”
Muħammad Ůsmān and Al Nādir Al Haibat were furious.
They were suffering from such wrath that they were incapable even to speak.
“They’ve rigged up a deal on my comparatively not so smart husband, Al Wājid Al Muħammad.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said, “They had already got him for something over five thousand dollars. I wasn’t willing to let even that ride. Why should I? Al Wājid Al Muħammad promised me that he wouldn’t do any more gambling, but they started in easy last night and lured him into the game. Then they started to take him. Al Wājid Al Muħammad thought his luck was bound to turn and stayed with it and—”
“He could have won,” Muħammad Ůsmān said sympathetically, “if he wasn’t thinking of your unfaithfulness, ma’am. Al Wājid Al Muħammad was immensely afraid of you that you would cuckold him to you and Durgesh in the same manner as my wife Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah has cuckolded me to herself, Durgesh and her younger ever smart sister Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah that kidnapped Durgesh and raped him.”
“Well, I think you ever doubtful Pseudo Musalmīn really deserve that.”
“I see.” Muħammad Ůsmān said curtly.
“Despite Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s constant advocacy that Pseudo Musalmīn never deserve us Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives’ innocent faithfulness, we should join her Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement, establish her ever dreamed of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, I never succumbed to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. But Al Wājid Al Muħammad never respected my loyalty to him despite his countless shortcomings. He is after Al Taufīq Al Zāhid.”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid grimaced.
“Even if Durgesh hadn’t obliged me, I’d never appreciated your husband. I sympathize with him that he thinks you are cheating him for Durgesh.”
“That’s only a pretense for his gambling and infidelity to me for you.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said curtly, “The bastard knows very well I don’t have any clandestine extramarital affair with Durgesh or anyone else. He has ill influenced my daughters even. I think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is correct. The bastards like Al Wājid Al Muħammad really deserve to be cuckolded. My daughter, Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid…”

Al Nādir Al Haibat said gravely.
“Anyway, there you are, ma’am. Your husband, Al Wājid Al Muħammad, was trying to win. If he had won, he’d have pocketed his winnings and both of you would have been very satisfied this morning. But he didn’t win, so…”
“So I want the money back,” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said. “The game was crooked.”
“You can prove that?” Muħammad Ůsmān asked ominously, threateningly somewhat.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid watched Muħammad Ůsmān scornfully,
“You are damn right, I can prove that. What the hell for do you think I’ve retained Durgesh professionally? However, I don’t need to prove it. You know it was crooked. Everybody here knows it was crooked. You aren’t running this place on the square. Don’t be silly.”
“Those are the words that would lay you wide open to a claim for damages,” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “I suggest you be more careful, ma’am.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled triumphantly,
“All I know is that Al Wājid Al Muħammad has last something like fifteen thousand dollars here within the last few weeks and I am not going to stand by and see him robbed until he is legally my husband. It affects not only his, but also my reputation too as well, adversely. Now, are you going to give him the money back or…”
“Definitely, absolutely, positively not!” Muħammad Ůsmān interrupted firmly, “Your husband doesn’t get back a nickel. Moreover, in view of what you’ve just said, and the scene you’ve created here, Al Wājid Al Muħammad doesn’t even get back inside this place. I’m leaving orders with my Årab doorman not to admit him.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled sarcastically, triumphantly.
Muħammad Ůsmān was as fuming as he didn’t notice even the sarcasm in her immensely scornful voice.
He continued irately,
“If you’d come to me as a lady and told me that you didn’t want your husband gambling here, Al Wājid Al Muħammad couldn’t have got in last night. However, you never said a word about it. Al Wājid Al Muħammad came and went just any other person and he gambled. He’s a good poker player. He knows what he’s doing but he just happened to have a run of bad luck last night. That’s all there was to it.
“Nevertheless, now you’ve said you don’t want Al Wājid Al Muħammad gambling here, that’s good enough for me. We won’t ever let him sit in another game.”
“Ma’am, I think that’s fair enough.” Al Nādir Al Haibat said, “If you didn’t want your husband gambling, I’m quite certain that Muħammad Ůsmān wouldn’t have wanted him sitting in on the games. I don’t think you ever said a word to Muħammad Ůsmān about not wanting Al Wājid Al Muħammad to gamble. After all, he’s been trying his best to win. You don’t have any legal recourse and…”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid put her hand on my hand.
“Are you sure you’ve taken my case against this crooked outfit?”*

I smiled.
I assured her, pressing her hand.
“I’ve already told you my strategy. Don’t worry. They charge me that I fuck beautiful Musalmān houseladies as my fee to save them from everything against them whatsoever the hell it may be. Nevertheless they never charge me I don’t protect them.”
“That’s right, ma’am,” Al Nādir Al Haibat interposed sarcastically, “If you’ve let Durgesh fuck you, you can commit any crime including first degree murder even. Durgesh would never let you punished. That’s guaranteed. Durgesh has already saved hundreds of beautiful Musalmān houseladies who committed first-degree murders of their Musalmān husbands/mankind. Every one of them is now Durgesh’s highly respected Live in relationship partner. Even the Supreme Court has declared them innocent. Their other Musalmān mankind were framed successfully by Durgesh and serving lifetime sentence or have gone to gas chamber.”
I was suddenly startled.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid’s extremely beautiful right Musalmān hand suddenly slipped and, Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, it was on my Uncut Hindu Lund without any previous ultimatum.
“Thank you,” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was suddenly rock hard.
Nevertheless, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid didn’t remove her palm from there.
I smiled triumphantly at Al Nādir Al Haibat.
“Thank you, counselor. I’m immensely grateful to you. Your false charges on me have compensated me with an immeasurably extraordinary compensation.”
Al Nādir Al Haibat had fallen as if from seventh sky.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid squeezed my Hindu erection once more.
Despite I was already fucking Al Taufīq Al Zāhid; I put my left hand around Al Saåīdah Al Wājid’s beautiful Musalmān waist, pulled her to myself and kissed her on her red crimson welcoming lips.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid returned my kiss immensely indebted to me.
Her arms were suddenly around my neck.*

Everyone, it seemed, was staring at Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
For Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad it was frightening to see that in each person’s eyes, without exception, there was registered a look of horror.

Within thirty minutes, the group, grown larger from the arrival of other members of the Board of Directors, had assembled in the Conference Room.
They stood now in a semicircle, with an opening in the center for two still photographers and two television camerawomen representing the press pool, clustered around the long dark mahogany table.
Once, while waiting, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid had asked Al Jalāl Al Tayyab if she had any person more whom she might wish to have witness the ceremony.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab confirmed my arm around her waist, smiled proudly at her husband, Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, and replied confidently.
“Certainly not. If Durgesh is with me, it’s more than even optimum for me.”
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad felt himself immensely insulted.
Yet, he knew he was too powerless to do anything.
Once, minutes ago, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid had beckoned to Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad and Al Hilāl Al Tayyab and demanded Al Qur’an Al Karīm.
Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad brought the copy of Al Qur’an Al Karīm and gave it to Al Saåīdah Al Wājid.
She still couldn’t believe her Bhābhījān, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, was now the Chairperson of Islamic Chamber of Commerce.
The more Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad hated her Bhābhījān, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, the more Al Jalāl Al Tayyab progressed.
Allah, won’t she ever be punished for what she had done to Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad’s ever loving, ever careful, real elder brother?
Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad found herself still standing next to Al Saåīdah Al Wājid.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid leaned against the high backed leather chair bearing the tiny brass nameplate:
‘Vice President, Islamic Chamber of Commerce’.
No, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid wasn’t herself Vice President, Islamic Chamber of Commerce.
It was Muħammad Ůsmān still now.
A gambler, a criminal, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid grimaced.
She still could not believe they let it happen.
Allah, how these miracles are taking place after all?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has successfully established Democracy in Saåūdī Årab.
The entire Muslim World couldn’t stop her.
Her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was too shrewd to be defeated by even entire Muslim World.
Entire Non-Muslims supported him, despite his daughter’s so arrogant behavior with the Non Muslimahs.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan openly wanted to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.

Chapter 10
—————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

The Everbest Wives: 36

Posted: February 22, 2014 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Akbar, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad, Al Tåzīm Al Islām, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Aurangzeb, Behavioural Science, Darashikoh, Doctor Muħammad Islam, Durgesh, Feminism, incest, Jahāngīr, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Judge Åārifah Pŧhān, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muhammad Akbar, Shāhjahān, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ummil Mominīn Ħazrat Åāyeshah Siddīqah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam | Leave a comment

The Everbest Wives

Previous Chapters

Chapter 36

Durgesh Al Tåzīm Al Islām
Durgesh Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad
Durgesh Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī

The warm, breezy, summer air flowed into the bedroom through the two open windows.
The soft rustle of the white sheers as they flew out from the wind gusts, was a relaxing sound.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām was slowly waking up, feeling the sun’s rays coming through the window, hitting her skin and warming her all over.
There was a conference of the stepdaughters of her Hindu father, led by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself.
They requested Durgesh, their Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful Hindu father too to attend it.
“Sorry,” I smiled at them, “I know in so many societies, incest is becoming normal now, even being respected. ‘Father husband’, ‘brother husband’ ‘daughter wife’, ‘sister wife’, are becoming normal advanced ultramodern relations too, even honored manywhere. Yet, I still don’t like it. Count me out, please!”

Al Tåzīm Al Islām was on her stomach, turning her head on her pillow so she could feel the warmth shine directly onto her face.
She hadn’t yet opened her eyes, instead, suddenly feeling chilled from the inside out.

It was a thought, a feeling, a shocked wonderment…why, at 23-years-old, was she still alone?
Well, she really DID know the answer to that, she always had, from the time Al Tåzīm Al Islām was a kid.
But, as always, she’d kept those thoughts and emotions to herself, buried deep inside, where they belonged.

When the aroma of freshly brewed coffee whiffed through the air, Al Tåzīm Al Islām opened her eyes and smiled broadly,
“Daddy,” Al Tåzīm Al Islām whispered to herself. She got up and put on her light-blue and white cotton bathrobe, and walked downstairs to the kitchen.
She wanted to say, ‘Daddy husband’, ‘Daddy, my unique love’, etcetera, but she knew it would antagonize her sixty-five years old Hindu love.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām could never afford it.
Yes, Durgesh is forty years older than Al Tåzīm Al Islām is.
So what?
Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were forty four years older when he consummated love with Ummil Mominīn Ħazrat Åāyeshah Siddīqah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā.
Islam never recognized marriages oriented to the ages of the marrying partners.
What a foolish, stupid, unscientific and immensely impractical idea it is!
It has destroyed countless marriages.
It has increased the number of divorcees immensely, but the non-Muslims never understood why Islam preached it.
The stupid dumb asses.
Islam always cared of the genes transfer to the next generation.
Moreover, an older experienced husband is always preferred in Islam than an ever-inexperienced male child that doesn’t know anything first hand of marital duties and responsibilities.
“Morning, daddy,” she said, smiling at me as Al Tåzīm Al Islām walked over and kissed my forehead.

“Morning, Al Tåzīm Al Islām,” I smiled back.

I drank my coffee while I waited for her to get her coffee and sit down with me.
This was our daily morning routine, since her Abbū, Doctor Muħammad Islam left them.
He charged her Ammī, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad that she wanted to cuckold him to her Hindu lover Durgesh and herself.
“It isn’t true, Your Honor,” her Ammī, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad, pleaded, “Doctor Muħammad Islam himself pleaded me to let him play a cuckold Musalmān husband to get favor from Ummil Åālmīn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā,”
A video was played in the court to support her statement.
The Judge wasn’t startled.
She looked down to Doctor Muħammad Islam thoughtfully.
“Your honor, I wanted to test the extent of her Durgesh obsession.” Doctor Muħammad Islam answered when he was given the opportunity to refute the evidence provided by defense in the videos, “I expected her to refuse me to cuckold, but…”
“I object to his statement, Your Honor.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī objected, “The videos shown here reveal my client, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad, refused to cuckold him, but Doctor Muħammad Islam insisted. My client yielded ultimately. She thought he needed it. Nowadays surprisingly, there are so many Musalmān husbands that plead to, their otherwise ever faithful ardent Musalmān wives, to cuckold them to Durgesh and to their own Musalmān wives. We have a large number of videos to prove our point.”*

Judge Åārifah Pŧhān looked at the Public Prosecutor.
A deputy district attorney arose to present the prosecution’s point of view,
“If the court please, the prosecution has already stated that the authenticity of the videos is not being challenged by the prosecution. Doctor Muħammad Islam never claimed he never requested his wife, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad, to cuckold him. He wanted to please his wife.”
“To the extent to be cuckolded to her and her Hindu lover, the Mayor of Ved Nagar, Durgesh?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled ironically, “Your Honor, if the prosecution admits that, why the separation at all?”
“Your Honor,” deputy district attorney answered, “that’s the point. We wanted those videos to be produced in the court. But the prosecution could not do it, because the party opposing the separation was itself planning to oppose the introduction of them as evidence. The prosecution hadn’t another alternative except to spread the rumors that the prosecution does not want them introduced.”
Judge Åārifah Pŧhān deliberately did not smile.
It was against the dignity of the court.
Yet she appreciated the strategy of the prosecution to make the defense itself to produce those videos in support of their own arguments.
However, it was reaching the adjournment.
Judge Åārifah Pŧhān adjourned the court for next date.

Everyone knew I, Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s new Hindu father, was a very handsome man by all accounts.
I had kept up my fine physique even at my sixty-five.
I was toned and fit from my daily Stavans, Weekly Mandrs, Monthly Satrs, Parvs, lap swims and gym workouts.

Al Tåzīm Al Islām had always been more of a home-body type of girl.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām was sweetness and cheerfulness, personified.
She’d always been a ‘daddy’s girl’.
When Al Tåzīm Al Islām graduated high school, she had refused to go away to college, as her siblings had.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām wanted to live at home while attending the University.

Given how smart Al Tåzīm Al Islām was and her academics, she graduated from high school at age 16; and graduated from college with her Bachelor’s Degree when Al Tåzīm Al Islām was 20.
After graduation, Al Tåzīm Al Islām wanted to start her own company, working from home.
Therefore, we remodeled one of the bedrooms, making it into an office on one end of the room, and her product storage on the opposite end.
She had a good business head about her and now, three years later, Al Tåzīm Al Islām was single-handedly managing a very lucrative business.

As was our regular morning routine, Hindu father and Musalmān daughter, after we have a couple cups of coffee and chat for a bit, we each went to our own rooms and shower and dress for the day.
Since both our bedrooms and home offices were upstairs, after we’d each get ready, we’d meet in the hallway and chat for a few more minutes, then each go to our respective offices to start to work.
For lunch, we always ate together, going out about half the time, giving us a chance to get out of the house and clear our heads before returning to work.
The same routine existed for supper, as well.
To most, it might sound like a boring or lackluster way of life, but for Al Tåzīm Al Islām and me, we loved it.*

It was homey, it was being together, it was comfortable, and we were content, just the way things were.

Things would have probably continued as we always have been, if Al Tåzīm Al Islām hadn’t had a small accident.
That one unforeseen fluke, changed everything.

Al Tåzīm Al Islām had recently changed bedrooms and moved into what had formerly been the ‘in-law suite’.
It had a large bedroom with a private bathroom, and a separate private, small living room.
Growing up, it was kept as a guest bedroom.
However, when Al Tåzīm Al Islām needed a larger home office, we did some rearranging and remodeling.
I continued to stay in the master suite I’d always had.
My home office was next to my bedroom, so it made sense to keep it the same, as well.
What used to be Al Tåzīm Al Islām and Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad’s old bedroom, was now remodeled.
It was now Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s new home office.
Now, the three bedrooms that were upstairs, Mine, Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s, and the guest bedroom, all had their own, private bathrooms.
The other two former bedrooms were now the home offices of Al Tåzīm Al Islām and me.
Since we were the only two who ever really used the upstairs, it was a floor plan that worked beautifully for us.

While Al Tåzīm Al Islām was in her shower that morning, she happened to notice that a couple of the newly-installed glass tiles in her shower had come loose and the corners were sticking out.
She made a mental note to tell me so it could be fixed. Continuing to shower, she slipped, although slightly, it was enough to throw her off balance a little and she inadvertently backed up rather hurriedly, into the tiles, scraping her head against it, causing a deep cut.
When she turned off the water, she looked down and saw blood dripping down her shoulders and chest.
Always one to get queasy and even faint at the sight of blood, she sat down on the custom-made shower bench and leaned against the shower wall.
She felt light headed at having seen her blood.

I had by now showered, dressed and was waiting in the hallway for Al Tåzīm Al Islām.
I thought I heard a sound but when I stopped and listened, it was quiet.
“Must be the radio,” I chuckled to myself.
However, a minute later, I heard what sounded like objects hitting a wall, as if someone was throwing things.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! It wasn’t a radio…Al Tåzīm Al Islām!”
I was confined into Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s room.
Yet, now could hear her moaning from the bathroom.
When I saw her sitting in the shower, semi propped up against the wall, her head dripping blood…I was gravely concerned suddenly.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh, my God! Al Tåzīm Al Islām, are you okay? Oh, Al Tåzīm Al Islām!”
I picked up her naked extremely beautiful young Musalmān body, carrying her to her bed and laid her down.
I went to her dresser, grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, concernedly dressing her.
I picked her up again, and carried her downstairs.
I scooped up my keys and wallet off the kitchen table and carried Al Tåzīm Al Islām out to the car.
I got her settled in, then drove to the ER of our local hospital.

Seeing the blood coming from Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s head as soon as I walked into the ER carrying her, a Lady Doctor working at the front desk immediately escorted us back to a room in the ER.
When they asked me to step out after Al Tåzīm Al Islām was in the hospital bed, I came unhinged.
“The hell I will. This is my daughter and I brought her here, and I’ll be damned if you’re going to push me out. My place is with her…she’s very very much important to me in my world…got it?”

“No problem sir, you can stay.”

Al Tåzīm Al Islām turned to me and lifted up her hand for me to hold it. As I held her hand, rubbing my thumb on the back of her hand, she looked up at me,
“My head hurts so bad. Can we give me an aspirin?”

The Lady Doctor heard her and replied,
“We can’t give you anything yet. Let me ask you a few questions then we’ll get you a shot for the pain, sweetie.”

She did give her a shot for pain, and soon got the cut sewn up.

“No permanent injury,” the doctor said, “but she’ll have a headache for a day or two, she had a nasty cut. The shot we gave her will make her sleep for a few hours. Here’s a prescription for some pills that will help with her headaches, and another prescription for an ointment that needs to be applied three times a day to the wound; it will help keep out infection as it heals. You’ll need to follow up with your family doctor in about one week, and I can assess how she’s progressing at that time.”

I refused to put Al Tåzīm Al Islām in a wheelchair as we were leaving; I was carrying Al Tåzīm Al Islām, simple as that.

“Durgesh?” Al Tåzīm Al Islām said groggily on our way home, “Will you get me a milkshake…sounds so good.”
I laughed, thinking the pain shot we gave her was making her a little loopy, but, what the hell,
“Sure, honey.”

After getting the chocolate milkshake, I tried to hold it with one hand, so Al Tåzīm Al Islām could drink it, and drive with my other hand.
When we arrived at home, once again scooping her up in my arms, I looked down and noticed that between the deep V-neck of her white t-shirt, she had spilt several drops of the chocolate shake, on the top of her boobs.
I leaned my head down to lick them up when I caught myself.

“What the hell am I doing?”

I chastised myself as I carried Al Tåzīm Al Islām inside the house, now in a deep sleep.
Not willing to leave her alone, I carried her into my home office, laid her down on my imported, Italian-leather suede sofa and covered her up with a blanket.
As I worked at my desk for the next few hours, I began to think I was actually watching her more than I was watching the jet-engine blueprints I was working on.

“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā,” I said to myself. “Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s out cold from medication, she’s got stitches in her head from a cut, and I’m not right because she’s over there, and I’m over here…I’m not paying proper attention she needs now.”

I got up and went over to the couch.
I gently lifted Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s head and sat down, now placing her head and pillow in my lap.
She didn’t wake up, but seemed to feel my presence in her sleep.
She sighed and turned on her side, nuzzling her face in my abdomen, and continued to sleep.
I draped one arm across her stomach and placed my other hand on the top of her head, combing her hair back from off her face with my fingers.
I leaned my own head back against the couch and within a couple of minutes, I myself drifted off to sleep.

I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but I woke up when I felt Al Tåzīm Al Islām starting to become restless.

“Al Tåzīm Al Islām, you okay, honey?”

“Durgesh?” she flickered her eyes a few times before they slowly started opening.
When she saw my face smiling down at her, she smiled broadly at me.

“Hi sweetie,” I said, kissing Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s forehead.

“Hey, Durgesh, I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for staying with me.”

“Anytime, honey.”

Al Tåzīm Al Islām puckered her lips for me to kiss her.
As I’d done a thousand times before, I gave her a fatherly peck on her lips.
Although this time, Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s arms went around my neck and she gently held me in place when I leaned my head down.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām lingered her warm, soft, lips, on mine, lightly brushing them over the surface before pressing her lips firmly against mine.
Instinctively, I pulled back, shocked out of my mind.

“Durgesh.” There was something in the way she said that word that went directly to my Anant Muslimātchod unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund.
It wasn’t a voice of a daughter or even a stepdaughter at all.
It was definitely the voice of a duly married wife to me, immensely in sexual love with me.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām told me everything in the syllables of that name.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!
Al Tåzīm Al Islām!
My duly married immensely loving wife?
I had never even imagined of it.
Nevertheless, that was Al Tåzīm Al Islām in her heart and mind absolutely.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!*

For a moment, I allowed myself to become, emotionally washed away, in Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s touch and kiss.

Her tongue sweetly parted my lips and within seconds we were kissing as passionately as I had ever kissed before in my life.
I couldn’t remember a time recently I’d ever felt such passion, such devotion, such total giving of a woman to me.
But then the other reality came crashing down on me.

“Stop, honey. We can’t kiss like that, Al Tåzīm Al Islām.” I reached up and gently removed Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s arms from around my neck.
“Honey, it was the medication you’re on. Go back to sleep.” My Anant Muslimātchod unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund, ever dreamed by almost entire womankind, was nevertheless rock hard.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s mouth was absolutely amazing!
“Hell…that’s Al Tåzīm Al Islām for Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!” I thought to myself.

“I love you, Durgesh,” Al Tåzīm Al Islām pouted.

“Honey, I love you, too. But we can’t kiss like that.” I traced Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s face with my fingertips.

“Mmmm…it feels good, Durgesh.”

“Just relax and go back to sleep, Al Tåzīm Al Islām.”

“Kiss me again, Durgesh…please.”

“No, honey. It’s better for you to rest right now.” Everything inside me was at war…my father’s love was battling with the romantic love, trying to convince me to simply open my mind and heart to her in a whole new way, and to love her.

“Durgesh, please!”

“Al Tåzīm Al Islām, now stop it. You’ll feel better later, just sleep now.”

“I’m awake now, Durgesh. And I’ll feel better when you kiss me.” Al Tåzīm Al Islām was one that had never argued with me.
Her temperament was always so sweet and easy going; we had only had a few disagreements in 23 years.

“Al Tåzīm Al Islām! That’s enough, honey. Now stop.”

“I’ll go to sleep if you kiss me.”
This time, Al Tåzīm Al Islām delicately slid her soft hands underneath My pull-over shirt, and splayed her hands on my chest, running her fingertips over there, just at the moment my lips made contact with hers.
She let out a soft, deep, moan.

My arm that was around Al Tåzīm Al Islām’s waist pulled her extremely beautiful young Musalmān body closer to me and my mouth started wanting to devour Al Tåzīm Al Islām.

Suddenly, I stopped,
“No! Al Tåzīm Al Islām, please, honey, we can’t!”
I gently lifted her head and pillow up from out of my lap, laying us back down on the couch as I stood up.
“I’ve got work to finish,” I was talking to Al Tåzīm Al Islām as I walked around my desk to sit down. “You go back to sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I was done talking; I started flipping through my latest blueprints, making notes over to the side, not once looking back over at Al Tåzīm Al Islām.

What Al Tåzīm Al Islām didn’t realize was that I had such a massive hard-on, I was doing my best to not only hide it, but also to will it to go down; feeling terribly uncomfortable for getting a boner from my sexual thoughts about Al Tåzīm Al Islām.
Al Tåzīm Al Islām!

Al Tåzīm Al Islām looked sadly at me, but the medication was still making it too easy for her to sleep.
She softly whimpered.
Her feelings were a little hurt by my sudden and abrupt departure.
She rolled over on her side and stared at me, not able to hold her eyes open for long, and soon fell asleep.

I noticed her eyes finally close and her breathing changed into deep, slow breathes, indicating Al Tåzīm Al Islām was asleep.
I let out a deep sigh and flopped back into my tall, leather, desk chair.
“What the hell was that?” I said out loud to myself.
I stared at Al Tåzīm Al Islām thoughtfully.
“It’s got to be the medication,” I thoughtfully murmured.
I tried to get back to work, but I could only concentrate for about two whole seconds at a time.
I’d look over at Al Tåzīm Al Islām, who, in her V-neck, white t-shirt and no bra, her full ‘C-cup-bordering-on-D-cup-tits, look so supple and soft.
They seemed to call out to me to touch the milky-soft, pink skin.
I was mesmerized by their natural Musalmān beauty.
I ached to squeeze them, to feel the delicate Musalmān softness.
Control yourself, Durgesh.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has made you habitual of having sex with Jet Musalmān Beauties, most of the time.
Never forget it, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has done it deliberately with a definite purpose.
To establish her ever dreamed Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
That’s what Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar has utmost successfully done once.
He compelled Musalmīn to marry their ardent Musalmān womankind with the Hindu mankind.
His son, Jahāngīr, did the same.
Shāhjahān did the same.
It ran for three generations nonstop.
Yet, what happened after that?
Didn’t it made possible the rise of Aurangzeb?
Wasn’t Darashikoh killed because he wanted to continue the same Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is obsessed to establish?
Do you want the rise of another Aurangzeb?
Try to come out of the conspiracy of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her bandit horny Musalmān queens.
How a born Hindu is always a better husband for a born Muslimah, than a born Musalmān husband is?
Nonsense!
It’s Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her bandit horny Musalmān queens’ Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad’s political strategy only.
Moreover, that’s too is dangerous in long term.
If you really want to protect innocent Darashikohs from Aurangzebs, prevent it right now.
Yes, Akbar was a great human being.
Nevertheless, it doesn’t mean everything he has done is correct.

Chapter 37
————————————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

The Yacht: 6

Posted: January 11, 2014 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid, Al Hudā, Al Hudā Al Hāshmī, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Nādir Al Ħaibat, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, Al Sādiyah Arraħmān, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid, Al Wājid Al Muħammad, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012 Volume 4

Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3

Ved Nagar Volume 2

The Yacht

Durgesh Al Saåīdah Al Wājid
Durgesh Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid
Durgesh Al Taufīq Al Zāhid

Chapter 6

Al Saåīdah Al Wājid raised her eyebrows.
“There is no real cause for jealousy,” Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid said sarcastically, “but my Abbū should have, in your opinion, become temporarily insane.”
I interfered.
I had to,
“Let’s get certain facts straight. Your Abbū has been playing a lot of poker at the Paradise Floats, and your Abbū has lost rather heavily?”
“That’s right.”
“Your Ammī didn’t take kindly to the idea?”
“Wives don’t take kindly to the idea of husbands sitting in poker games and losing money.” Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid commented dryly.
“Should they?” I smiled.
Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid hesitated somewhat to reply me.
“And,” I continued, “Al Taufīq Al Zāhid was rather conspicuous around the Paradise Floats?”
“They made her conspicuous.” Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid said looking at her Ammī significantly.
“And your Abbū became interested in her?”
“Mr. Mayor, my Abbū loves her. And why the hell shouldn’t he, when my Ammī loves you entirely unashamed of herself?”*

I watched her gravely.
“How do you know your Ammī loves me?” I glanced at Al Saåīdah Al Wājid for a moment while asking Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid was red faced due to sheer anger.
“The father and daughter both claim that we are afraid of them. That’s why we are keeping our relationship clandestine.”
“I see, what the hell can they do if we really love each other? They are not as resourceful as we are.” I smiled making the joke of the suggestion.
“Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid is an innocent daughter of an innocent poor father.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled burning, but still keeping her dignity, “She thinks her gambler father is poor. His wife is cheating him clandestinely. He goes to Paradise Floats to forget his dilemma resorting to gambling. He isn’t responsible for the gambling even. He is a poor innocent cheated husband. What’s wrong there if even he loves Al Taufīq Al Zāhid? His wife is cheating him after all. You know very well, Mr. Mayor, I’m having an affair with you or not. Yet, she herself admits that her Abbū is gambling and loves Al Taufīq Al Zāhid. They blame either us Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful or our Hindu lovers that we are breaking their otherwise excellent homes. I too, with my sisters, believed it. I imagined the Musalmīn were innocent. How mistaken I was! My efficient Musalmān husband is blaming me now of infidelity only because he wants to gamble and have an affair with Al Taufīq Al Zāhid himself.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid inadvertently remembered while she visited Paradise Floats to object to her husband’s entirely irresponsible gambling:

The Paradise Floats was a gambling yacht.
I walked with Al Taufīq Al Zāhid and Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī across.
A man’s voice resisted,
“I’m Muħammad Ħabīb Nizāmuddīn, the police chief here on the yacht, Paradise Floats. What are you folks doing here?”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid gave a little gasp.
“Where’s Muħammad Ůsmān?” I asked the police chief authoritatively.
After all, I was the Mayor of Ved Nagar, the ever richest Multi Zillionaire, the utmost successful Sex Therapist, lifetime chairman of HVSI, an utmost successful writer and human activist.
“Here I am.”
Muħammad Ůsmān pushed his way belligerently forward, his deep set eyes glittering with hostility at me.
My eyes rapidly adjusted to the dim light.
“I’m here representing Al Taufīq Al Zāhid as her attorney. You threw her out of here last night without giving her a chance to get her things. The first thing we want is to get to her locker and get her belongings.”
“All right, all right,” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “you want to go to the locker. The chief of police is here. He’ll search the locker.”*

I watched him contemptuously.
“Not without a warrant, he won’t.”
“That’s what you think, sir,” the chief said politely, yet firmly, “when your extraordinary beautiful client, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid, opens that door, I take a look, certainly. Muħammad Ůsmān owns this place. He’s given me permission to search any part of it I want.”
“You are forgetting the law, chief.” I smiled, “the locker is the property of my client, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid.”
“She got a deed to it?” Muħammad Ůsmān asked sarcastically.
“Tell your under educated friend, Muħammad Ůsmān, chief, the concerned law,” I admonished the chief of police, “before he does something illegal more in the presence of witnesses. He is tremendously undereducated of the law concerning the business he is running. He has already violated so many clauses, due to his sheer ignorance of the concerned law. Advise him not to violate anymore. It was designated as a place where my client, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid, could store her things.”
“While she was working here.” Muħammad Ůsmān reminded curtly, “She isn’t working here anymore. I want to take a look in there. I want to see what’s in there. I’ll bet you I’ll find some of the money that’s been missing from the cash register.”
“You mean, Mr. Muħammad Ůsmān,” I said gravely, “that you are accusing my client, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid, that she would have taken the money from the cash register last night, then gone to her locker, unlocked the locker, opened the door, put the money in there, then closed and locked the door again?”
“Where else would she have put it?” Muħammad Ůsmān asked.
“If she has taken the money,” I said, “have any irrefutable proof that she actually did that?”
“Who else could take the money?”
“The court will tell us, don’t worry. It will find out and you would have to pay for your absolutely unevidenced accusation. You blamed my client, yet you don’t have any proof. It’s a costly misuse of power, Mr. Muħammad Ůsmān. Well, nothing to worry there for you, however, if you are willing to pay the cost.”
Muħammad Ůsmān looked at me scornfully.
Yet, he didn’t say anything orally.
“You don’t have a key to the locker?” I asked.
“Why should I have a key?” Muħammad Ůsmān said.
“You are the owner. You assigned this locker to her, didn’t you?”
“Of course, what’s wrong in it?”
“You had the key in your possession until you gave it to her?”
“Naturally,”
“You don’t have any duplicate or master key to the locker?”
“Why should have I?”
“Most of the owners do it, don’t they?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t believe even in having somewhat general knowledge of the business you are running?”
“I have perfect knowledge of what I think necessary.”
“You don’t think it necessary?”
“Never.”
“You can’t get in this locker?”
“Of course not. I gave your extremely beautiful client the key. She’s got it in her purse, that little purse she keeps down in the front of her sweater. I saw her put it there.”
I couldn’t believe him that he actually didn’t have a duplicate key or any master key.
I knew Muħammad Ůsmān better, didn’t I?
“You have been unable to open her locker?” I watched Muħammad Ůsmān gravely.
“Naturally. How could I get in? She’s got the only key to the locker. Hadn’t she?”
“Sure?”
“Of course.”
“Then,” I asked curtly, “how did you expect to get her things out and send them to her, as you told her?”
Muħammad Ůsmān looked at me contemptuously.
“Ever hear of any locksmith? You don’t run any entertainment business. Otherwise you should too have known that we use to have a locksmith’s services whenever we face such circumstances.”
“Your general knowledge about me is too poor, Muħammad Ůsmān. HVSI run every entertainment business except that’s harmful to human society. Gambling, wine, smuggling, prostitution etcetera aren’t actually entertainment businesses. They are extremely harmful to the human society. Only the underevolveds, as you, run such so called entertainment businesses.”
The police chief said,
“Don’t talk with him, Muħammad Ůsmān. He’s just trying to get admissions from you, in the presence of competent witnesses. This man never fights masculine. He always fights feminine. He doesn’t have any masculine empire. He has a feminine empire, Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire. Doesn’t he?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled humiliating the police chief.
“We sympathize with you ever loser folks. I can very well understand your ever desperate jealousy. Nevertheless, you ever loser folks must too understand that it needs a man to establish a feminine empire or sex empire, whatever you want to call it. No bisexual, no gay, can do it ever.”
“And as far as your so called masculine fights are concerned, only the underevolveds, as you, can call them masculine fights. Actually they are Criminal fights, most dangerous ever to human society.” I said curtly.
The police chief and Muħammad Ůsmān only looked at each other, smiling.
“First,” I said, “I’m going to get my client’s things. I’m warning you both, Mr. Muħammad Ůsmān, and the police chief, that any attempt to search her things without a warrant will be considered an illegal invasion of my client’s rights. I’m also demanding an apology from Mr. Muħammad Ůsmān because of remarks he has made suggesting that my client is less than honest. Such an apology will not be accepted as compensation by my client, but we are suggesting that it be made in order to mitigate damages.”
Muħammad Ůsmān started to say something, but the chief of police said,
“Take it easy, Muħammad Ůsmān. Where’s Al Nādir Al Ħaibat?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Muħammad Ůsmān said angrily, “I told my attorney to be here to protect my legal rights as the owner of this yacht, Paradise Floats. An incurable fucker of criminal Musalmān Beauties interprets every law in their favor and my attorney isn’t present here, even though he always boasts to protect every masculine right of every male against the ever insane ever incurable Hindu fucker of criminal Musalmān Beauties.”
The door opened.
For a moment the light from the side walk poured in, silhouetting a bodily strong looking individual, as if he was a trained boxer, instead being an attorney at law.
I smiled.
Both Muħammad Ůsmān and his chief of police friend were imprudent enough to hire a bodily competent attorney instead of a mentally competent one.
They still believed in violence more than in the law and intellectual power.
But they were not alone.
Most of the backwards did it.
There were still too many Pseudo Musalmīn that couldn’t understand the supremacy of intellectual power.
They still believed in the supremacy of military power.
That’s why they lost to comparatively more prudent Hindus ever.
Despite their physical political administration on Hindus in India for a long time, they couldn’t get except a small land called Pakistan that too was divided into two separate autonomous sovereign countries soon.
The door closed and the silhouette resolved itself into a man of around thirty seven with dark rimmed spectacles, a toothy grin and hard, appraising eyes.
“This,” Muħammad Ůsmān announced acidly, “is Al Nādir Al Ħaibat, my attorney.”
He turned to him,
“Al Nādir Al Ħaibat, Mr. Mayor is here representing once more one more criminal Musalmān Beauty. He says…”
“Glad to meet you, Mr. Mayor.” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat stretched his hand, “Sorry, due to traffic problems I couldn’t reach here earlier to welcome you.”
Al Nādir Al Ħaibat’s fingers closed around my hand.
“All right, never mind the diplomacy.” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “Mr. Mayor is not here in his official capacity. He is here as an attorney representing this woman who’s trying to blackmail me and―”
“Easy, Muħammad Ůsmān, easy,” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat warned, “Take it easy, will you?”*

Muħammad Ůsmān said curtly,
“What do you mean, ‘take it easy’? I’m telling you.”
“Your antagonist isn’t an ordinary man.” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat said scornfully, “He is a world famous man for breaking countless Musalmān homes, yet he has miraculously managed most of the persons believe successfully that he isn’t a home breaker. He is a Messiah of Musalmān houseladies instead that’s rescuing Musalmān houseladies from their tyrant husbands and criminal house persons. He is being praised and respected immensely for it, instead of being condemned.”
“So what?” Muħammad Ůsmān said scornfully too, “With the infinite money he has, and still pouring in incredibly, anyone can manage the media praising him despite his tremendous shortcomings and wickedness even. Moreover he hasn’t even to bribe the media even. He himself owns most of the media, law firms etcetera. Most of the governments everywhere are immensely indebted and obliged to him for their own survival. They can’t act against him ever. He is the ever shrewdest person I’ve ever encountered in my life.”
I smiled,
“Thank you, gentlemen,”
“Don’t mention it,” Muħammad Ůsmān said sarcastically.
Al Nādir Al Ħaibat opened his mouth to say something, but Muħammad Ůsmān raised his hand to stop him,
“He’s representing a broad that’s trying to blackmail me. As always happens every criminal Musalmān houselady that’s extraordinary beautiful reaches him, lets him fuck her as much as he wants to, and he comes to rescue her posing himself as a messiah of unjustifiably accused Musalmān houseladies. I would never allow to let them play this dirty game to me even. She claims I accused her of being dishonest.”
“Oh, Muħammad Ůsmān would never do that.” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat smiled dignified.
Then he turned to Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, bowed to her, and swung around to face Al Taufīq Al Zāhid,
“Well, well,” he said, “It’s the cigar and cigarette girl.”
“That’s the one,” Muħammad Ůsmān said contemptuously, “she told me that she’d won a bathing beauty contest that included a trip to Ved Nagar Film Industry, a screen test and a certain amount of resulting publicity.”
“A screen test?” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat acted surprised incredulously.
“That’s what she said to me,” Muħammad Ůsmān acted paternal somewhat, “I never believed her. She was extremely beautiful alright, but it takes more than mere immense beauty to be an actress. I thought she dreamed of becoming an actress without knowing anything worthwhile about it. I got sympathetic, naturally.”
“Naturally,” I smiled sarcastically, “how nice of you,”
“She told me it was part of the publicity.” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “She told me she never heard anything from it again. She even said she even doubted sometimes if there was film in the camera.”
“The trip to Ved Nagar Film Industry?” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat urged Muħammad Ůsmān.
“She said that was real. She had to wait to travel when the plane had some extra seats. It was nice however, she said, while it lasted.”
“When did it quit lasting?” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat smiled sarcastically.
“About six months ago, she said.”
“And she’d been doing?”
“Various things, she said.”
“The last was being employed as a cigarette girl and novelty singer at your Entertainment Yacht?” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat asked.
“That’s right,” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “five months ago she got a job with me. I’ve a little night club here on the yacht with a room in back where there are legalized games, you know.”
“And her employment terminated when?” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat asked.
“Last night, and very abruptly.” Al Taufīq Al Zāhid answered curtly, instead of Muħammad Ůsmān.
“What happened?” Al Nādir Al Ħaibat asked feigning sympathy, dignity and impartiality.
“Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim were―”
“Go ahead,” Muħammad Ůsmān encouraged her sarcastically, “let’s hear your story that either you manufactured to get Mr. Mayor sympathetic with you or he did to fuck you.”*

Al Taufīq Al Zāhid laughed sarcastically.
“Durgesh never needs to manufacture any story to enjoy any Musalmān Beauty or any beautiful Musalmān houselady. Despite your desperate frantic efforts to prove otherwise, none of you bloody liars could ever prove Durgesh wrong, not even a single time. The ever persistent ever unstoppable ever overpowering expansion of Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire is itself a proof that Durgesh is always right. He hasn’t broken even a single Musalmān home anywhere. If the concerned Musalmān home was ever broken it was always broken by either the concerned Musalmān houselady because she never wanted to continue her homely responsibilities anymore, or her husband himself wanted to split away for his own hidden reasons. That’s why Durgesh was accused to break Musalmān homes countless times, yet it couldn’t be proven ever.”
“Very commendable opening speech,” Muħammad Ůsmān laughed sarcastically, “I congratulate the script writer. Mr. Mayor is always a successful writer. Let’s hear the rest of it.”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid watched Muħammad Ůsmān contemptuously and continued, confidently.
“Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim both wanted me to do some crooked work. They wanted me to look at the hands of a sucker and signal what he was holding.”
Muħammad Ůsmān indignantly tried to contradict her, but Al Nādir Al Haibat stopped him raising his hand once again.
“And you did?” Al Nādir Al Haibat asked Al Taufīq Al Zāhid.
“I did not.” Al Taufīq Al Zāhid said irritably.
“So, what happened?” Al Nādir Al Haibat asked feigning courtesy.
“I should have known better. I failed to act prudent enough to protect my own interests. Muħammad Ůsmān was dangerous. I forgot that he has a terrific temper and he was furious. Suddenly, without any ultimatum, Muħammad Ůsmān took a long breath and smiled that oily and suave breath of his. He told me it was all right, he would handle the game without my help.”
“And he did?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t last long enough to find out.”
“What happened?”
“Muħammad Ůsmān told me the cashier had become ill and had to leave. I was to take over the cash register and let some of my singing numbers go. Well, there was a hundred and twenty dollar shortage.”
“While you were in charge?” Al Nādir Al Haibat asked gravely.
“Yes.”
“A real shortage or―”
“A real shortage. The cash simply didn’t balance.”
“You admit it?”
“Of course, I admit it. I don’t want to blame anyone falsely.”
“What happened to it in your opinion, if you haven’t done it?” Al Nādir Al Haibat asked feigning impartiality.
“Frankly, I don’t know. I think Muħammad Ůsmān did a little sleight of hand on me when he inventoried the cash with me at the time I took over. Muħammad Ůsmān is very swift and very clever with his hands. He can deal from the bottom of the deck or deal seconds, and it’s almost impossible to catch him at it. I think that when he counted the cash in the cash register with me at the time I took over, he used his sleight of hand. All I know is that when I came to balance up, there was the shortage.”
“Who found it?”
“I found it.”
“And what did you do?”
“I communicated immediately with Muħammad Ůsmān. I told one of the waitresses to tell him. He was in this game.”
“And what happened?”
“Muħammad Ůsmān fired me. I had about a hundred dollars coming in back wages. Muħammad Ůsmān handed me forty dollars and told me that was enough to get out of there and if I wasn’t out within twenty four hours, Muħammad Ůsmān would have a warrant issued for me. He called me a thief and everything else in the―”
“Anyone present?”
“Quite a few people in the place could hear Muħammad Ůsmān. He wasn’t particularly quiet about it.”
“Know any of their names?”
“A couple. Al Sādiyah Arraħmān was there.”
“Who is she?”
“One of the girls who does all around work. Sometimes she acts as attendant in the powder room, sometimes she’s a hat check girl. Sometimes she works in the motel office.”

Chapter 7
—————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

The Yacht: 4

Posted: December 29, 2013 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Al Hudā, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012 Volume 4

Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3

Ved Nagar Volume 2

The Yacht

Durgesh Al Quddūs Al Nisār
Durgesh Al Jalāl Al Tayyab

Chapter 4

On a quiet road heading out of town I had stopped suddenly as a cat ran across in front of me.
As I did I felt a bump and quickly realized someone had hit me from behind.
Without a thought I pulled over to the side of the road and leapt from the car in something of a rage to inspect the damage.
As I went to the back of the car I noticed the other car had stopped and as the door swung open a rather attractive young woman stepped out in a bit of a panic.

“Allah! Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Al Quddūs Al Nisār shrieked. “I…I don’t know what happened, one minute you…..”

“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā ! What have you done,” said I furiously butting in on her attempted explanation.
Al Quddūs Al Nisār was clearly in a bit of a state.
I quickly realized it had to be because the car Al Quddūs Al Nisār had hit was my car.
I was about to calm her fears and tell her it was alright when my words were suddenly taken away by the sight of her womanly curves.

Standing I found it hard to concentrate on what Al Quddūs Al Nisār was saying.
As I tried to focus on her face rather than her body I couldn’t help but take the occasional quick glance down at her rather impressive chest.

For a moment I pretended to be completely tongue tied and just let her continue with her explanation and apology.
I never felt awkward and uncomfortable around women because they almost always looked down at me with seduction.
I had the undivided attention of a gorgeous young woman and wanted to make the most of it.

Pretending to be concerned about the damage to my car I walked around the back and took a closer look.
I just rubbed my chin and muttered,
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā. Oh, dear.”

The concerned young woman came to have a look too, her perfume filling the air around me.
Not wanting to miss out on an opportunity like this, I stepped back just behind her to get a crafty look at her glorious rear as she bent over to see how bad it was.
My eyes widened at the glorious sight of her generously proportioned cheeks stretching the tight black leggings.
From the lack of any visible panty line I knew this gorgeous white skinned veiled yet unveiled Musalmān woman had to be wearing some sort of thong and I could instantly feel my Uncut Hindu Cock begin to swell.

Turning back to again explaining how sorry Al Quddūs Al Nisār was, I reached out and touched her arm with my hand in a sort of comforting gesture.

“Oh don’t worry,” I said enjoying the immense feeling of power, “I can just ignore it and forget.”

“Oh thank you, I don’t know what to say, thank you so much!”

In an instant and before I could realize what was happening she threw her arms around me and gave me a huge hug.
It took me completely by surprise, the young glorious Musalmān woman was clearly so happy at my kindness that Al Quddūs Al Nisār was overcome with the urge to demonstrate her immense gratitude.
She had uplifted her naqāb of her veil to keep her immensely beautiful face out.
They did it to beautify themselves more than the non-Muslim Beauties, to highlight their extreme beauty.

It lasted a good 10 seconds or so and all I could feel was her bust squashing against my chest.
My already stirring Uncut Hindu Cock now began to really harden.
I instinctively slipped my hands around her to hug her back.
As Al Quddūs Al Nisār enthusiastically continued to blurt out her thanks I couldn’t resist holding her tightly.
I enjoyed the moment very much.
Then, it was either instinct or more likely just seizing this most exciting of experiences, I couldn’t resist moving my hands downwards to rest just below her waist on the slope at the top of her perfectly formed female Musalmān ass.

The smooth tight feel of her leggings was just incredible for me, to most it would have been nothing more than what it was, a simple friendly hug. But for me it was an opportunity to enjoy more close contact than I had had with an extremely attractive female for longer than I cared to remember.
It was a true sexual experience and one that was turning me on greatly.
As the hug came to an end and Al Quddūs Al Nisār began to step back I had to take the chance, I knew I might never get another, and so as casually as I could make it appear I allowed my hands to fall away and “accidentally” touch those two beautifully rounded Musalmān cheeks.

Luckily Al Quddūs Al Nisār said nothing, either Al Quddūs Al Nisār hadn’t noticed or Al Quddūs Al Nisār didn’t mind.
Then, getting back into her car, I was left in stunned silence as I watched her drive away.

I too got back in my car and as I started the engine I just sat there a few minutes recounting what had just happened.
I couldn’t quite believe it, the whole experience would mean nothing to most people, but to me it was just an incredible moment, one that had left me with a serious bulge in my trousers that was going to require attention sooner rather than later!
Al Quddūs Al Nisār had deliberately seduced me, I knew.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had remarked to me that her Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, watched us ravenously whenever Al Jalāl Al Tayyab and I made love to each other.
“We should be more careful in our love making, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab,” I had said gravely.
“Hey, what do you mean?” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab laughed, “I am not afraid of anyone. You can fuck me anywhere you damn please,”
“Sālī, perverted,” I smiled, “I never knew you are too an exhibitionist.”
“Well,” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab said humming, “I have the most wonderful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body everyone is obsessed to watch in nude. Your Uncut Hindu Lund is similarly unique they want to watch penetrating every beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt. When they watch us making love to each other, they enjoy double exhibition. Let them get what they are obsessed with to watch. It isn’t harming us, does it?”*

Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb watched me scrutinizing.
“I’ve got a right to know, Mr. Durgesh. Al Hilāl Al Tayyab might be your girlfriend of twenty eight years old, but she is my would-be wife. I refuse to let her being blackmailed. I want to know further what your extraordinary unique prudence propose to do about it.”
I digested the information.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab never told me that she was being blackmailed.
It was a new information to me.
I acted as if it wasn’t any news to me.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab had already told me it.
“I see. So, you too know about it? She shared the information with you too.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb watched me gravely.
“She is being married to me. What do you think, she’d tell it to her boyfriend of sixty four years, but not to her would be husband even? You can provide her sex and money only. I can provide her respect and honor in the society, if not even as much sex and as much money as you can.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
She was lying on her back now.
“You are invited in the yacht?”
“I wasn’t.” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb said somewhat curtly, “Your Hindu lover, Durgesh, invites our extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies only to fuck them, not their would be husbands.”
“Then how the hell you managed to get on the yacht?”
“Despite the security, you mean?” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb smiled ironically.
“Sure.”
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb wasn’t born yesterday, sister.” He said proudly, “I have my own means to approaches.”
“Who else does know Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is being blackmailed?” I asked curtly.
“I don’t know.”
“I see. I asked you to come in because I could not rule out the possibility that you might need my guidance in some legal, political, social, psychological or some another matter. If you don’t, I’m sorry to take your leave, Mr. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb. I’m too busy to give you any more time. Will you please excuse me now?”
“I want to retain you to protect my would be wife, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, that’s your girlfriend too for past ten long years, from whoever the person blackmailing her.” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb exploded his bombshell.*

Over the next few days I couldn’t get what had happened between Al Quddūs Al Nisār and me, out of my mind.
The more I thought about it the more I came to realize I could fairly easily get Al Quddūs Al Nisār.
She was deliberately seducing me.
As the days went by I just kept on coming up with more and more imaginative ways that I could satisfy my growing need for her female contact.

Soon I came to the decision that I would prepare myself in case an opportunity arose again.

I could see that even the loveliest Musalmān houseladies were nervous of me and it was something that I knew I had the courage to exploit even, if I wanted to.
Then an opportunity arose I saw Al Quddūs Al Nisār come out of a shop and hop into her little sports car.
Al Quddūs Al Nisār caught my eye instantly in her tight black business skirt white blouse and black jacket. She must have been as if in her early twenties and with her long dark wavy brown hair and incredibly sexy figure it would have been hard not to notice her.
It was a look I loved, the sexy submissive look, her skirt came to just above the knee giving a good display of her legs sheathed in sheer black nylon and although her jacket was buttoned up I could tell Al Quddūs Al Nisār was hiding an impressive bust.

In rather a cheeky move Al Quddūs Al Nisār pulled out in her car and joined the queue as close to the front as Al Quddūs Al Nisār could. Obviously a cute smile at some sad guy was going to get her in without any bother.

As they all moved off I kept her in my sights. I knew I had some spare time as I was dropping the car off.*

I didn’t tell him I was already retained by Al Hilāl Al Tayyab herself.
Why the hell should have I?
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, not my twenty eight years old girlfriend for past ten long years now, but Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb’s would be wife instead, had retained me only to help her in getting married with Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb without losing her inheritance.
I had to protect her inheritance rights only from her ever shrewdest youngest Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was offering me an absolutely new case.
I had to protect her from someone who was blackmailing her.
It was an entirely different case.
Wasn’t it?
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wasn’t anymore my as loyal a girlfriend as she was until now.
She was more loyal to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement now instead.
Then why the hell should I offer her my services on charity?
If her would be husband was himself ready to pay me for them, why should I pay the detectives and other incidental expenses from my own pocket?
If Al Hilāl Al Tayyab preferred Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, her Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement and Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb more on me, why could not I too treat her on the same ground?

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī closed the door gently, after Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb left us, quite satisfied that I didn’t refuse to take the case he had come to offer me.
I was fucking Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī now on her nude back gravely.
She was herself enjoying my Uncut Hindu Lund into her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her husband could never give her this much pleasure.
Neither could he guide her in her legal problems.
Durgesh was necessary now for Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī more than her own husband even.
After a few moments, I took out the computer printed paper containing the copy of the clause in the will of Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, setting forth the terms of the trust to Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.
I was still fucking Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī on her back, and still studying the computer printed document when Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb opened the door once more.
“Miss Al Hilāl Al Tayyab,” she said.
I looked at Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb speculatively for a moment, then beckoned to her.
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb interpreted the gesture, and stepped fully into the stateroom, pulling the door close behind her.
I filled Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt with my abundant Hindu semen.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled and kissed her gratitude to me.
I pulled my Uncut Hindu Lund out of her twat.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī descended from the bed and Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb took her place undressing herself.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī vanished into the bathroom.
“Did Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb go out of the office as soon as he left here, Jamīlah?” I asked her.
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb kissed my Uncut Hindu Lund, licked and said,
“Yes, in his costly Mercedes. He was quite confident now while he was almost in a panic when he came here.”
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb swallowed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her lovely mouth and started sucking it passionately.
“And Al Hilāl Al Tayyab just came in?”
“Yes,”
“Any chances they met in the elevator?”
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb positioned my Uncut Hindu Lund between her pink Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān labial lips, and pursed her lips thoughtfully.
“They might have, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties,” she said, “but I don’t think they did.”
I smiled triumphantly.
Why?
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb never understood.
It wasn’t because Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb was imprudent.
No imprudent girl could get Durgesh’s respect and love both as Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb was getting.
But I was too deep to understand optimum for Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī understood Durgesh more.
Nevertheless, she too found Durgesh too deep to be understood completely.
Durgesh’s De facto Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was now the closest one to Durgesh.
Yet, even she could not understand Durgesh was using her deliberately with her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, as Imām Muħammad Ħasan disclosed to her in the seminar.
“Tell me, Jamīlah,” I entered Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb, “how does Al Hilāl Al Tayyab seem? Excited?”
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb put her beautiful nude legs on my shoulders.
“No.” she replied, “cold as a cucumber, and she is trying to look her best when she comes in. She took out her compact and is making her face all pretty. She has got her hair arranged just so.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī came out of bathroom.
“Alright, bring Al Hilāl Al Tayyab in, Al Hudā,” I said.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī opened the door.
“Come in, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab,” she said.

Al Hilāl Al Tayyab walked into the room.
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb was in the room with me.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī knew she had to replace her as a receptionist until Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb isn’t free to resume her duties.
She slipped out of the door, and noiselessly closed it behind her.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab kissed me on my lips.
I returned her kiss cordially.
“Sit down,” I said lovingly.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab walked to a leather chair, sat down, crossed her knees and regarded me from limpid black eyes in wordless interrogation.
“An Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb called on me a few moments ago,” I said fucking Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb vigorously, “and insisted on my telling him whether or not you had been here.”
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb is an impulsive nuisance,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said gravely. “I’m sorry that he disturbed you.”
“Never mind.” I smiled, “He had come to me to retain me himself professionally on some another matter.”
“Allah, not concerning me?”
I regarded her thoughtfully.
“That is a privileged communication and you know me for past ten years better that as soon as I tell you that, it would end to remain a privileged communication legally.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’d forgotten it.”
“Did you tell him you were going here to consult me professionally?”
“I mentioned something like that to him. Did you tell him I’ve retained you professionally?”
“Certainly not. I advised him to get in touch with you if he wanted to ask any questions about your affairs.”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab smiled faintly.
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, my would be husband, is submissive to me only. To others he is a very hard boiled man. I bet you he hadn’t appreciated your talking to him like that.”
“He didn’t.” I watched her gravely.
“I’ll see him,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said, “and tell him.”
I kept watching her scrutinizing.
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb said that you were being blackmailed.”
For just a fraction of a second there was a look of startled terror in the eyes of the twenty eight years old young woman.
Then she regarded me with a placid and impassive face.
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb is an impulsive nuisance,” she said once more.
I deliberately waited for Al Hilāl Al Tayyab to tell me more if she wished to take advantage of the opportunity, but Al Hilāl Al Tayyab didn’t do that deliberately.
Instead, she sat calmly placid, waiting for me to provide the information she had retained me professionally to get.
She wasn’t my girlfriend of past ten long years anymore now.
She was acting deliberately as if she was only a client to me.
I wasn’t a man she had enjoyed the ultimate intimacy with for past ten long years.
I was only her attorney now.
I had to accept the relationship between us now she was so deliberately, so determinedly, implying, if I didn’t want to be humiliated.
I accepted the implication.
I hadn’t another option.
I never let anyone to humiliate me.
Why the hell should have I ever?
I turned to the papers I had,
“I have copies of the trust provisions of the will, and the decree of distribution. I also find that there have been annual accounts submitted to the trustees. I’m sorry that I can’t give you much hope, Al Hilāl, as far as the decree of distribution is concerned. The administration of the trust seems to be largely discretionary.
“Even if I should be able to get the provision in regard to marriage set aside, as being in violation of public policy, you would still be confronted with the fact that the distribution of the trust estate remains largely in the discretion of the trustee, your Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. She may consider your attack upon the will in the light of an interference with the wishes of your Abbū, her brother, and with her authority as trustee.”
“I see.”
“Even if we should win our point in court, your aunt, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, would have it in her discretion to nullify your victory.”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab took the blow without flinching.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she sighed overpowered.
I watched her gravely keeping pounding into Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb vehemently,
“There is another peculiar provision in the trust,” I said, “to the effect that the discretion vested in the trustee is a personal discretion, due to the confidence that your Abbū had in his judgment. The will and the decree of distribution provide that in the event the trust should terminate because of the death, inability or refusal on the part of the trustee to continue to act, that then and in such event, the entire trust fund is to be vested in you unconditionally.”
“Yes.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab smiled sadly, “I know that.”
“There is therefore,” I said, “some possibility that your Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, might be placed in a position where she could no longer act to advantage. In other words, you might make some legal attack upon her capacity to act as trustee―perhaps show a commingling of trust funds with her own accounts, or something of that sort. It’s rather sketchy, and I am mentioning it to you simply because it seems to be the only possible plan of campaign open to you.”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab smiled at me,
“You know my aunt, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, even better than me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you yourself know very well, even more than me that my aunt, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, is meticulously careful, and is so obstinate that no power on earth can swerve her from anything she wants to do or decides that she doesn’t want to do. You have not only enjoyed her sexually, you have trained her too to protect against anything potential to harm her. Now she is entirely self-sufficient.” Her voice was filled with a certain bitterness that colored her tone, though her eyes remained calm.
Watching Al Hilāl Al Tayyab closely, I kept fucking Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb more and more vigorously,
“Do you yourself have any suggestions?”
“Sure,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said, “I think something might be done through my Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid.”
“Your Kħālā? Al Saåīdah Al Wājid?”
“Yes, she is surprisingly my Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s partner too. They are engaged in business together, buying, selling and mortgaging real estate, and buying and selling stocks and bonds. Surprisingly now my Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, has more influence today, after you, with my Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, than any other living person.”
“And how does your Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, feel toward you that you are marrying a gay.”
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb is not actually a gay. Muħammad is gay, but Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb is only a bisexual.”
“I see, my question was how does your Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, feel toward you that you are marrying a bisexual?” I asked patiently, curtly somewhat.
“Well, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid Kħālā has changed in this matter drastically. Now, she isn’t as orthodox as she was once. She thinks I have perfect right to marry anyone I damn please,”
“Even a bisexual?”
“Even a bisexual. Durgesh, a bisexual isn’t a gay actually.”

Chapter 5
————————————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

The Yacht: 2

Posted: November 29, 2013 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, Al Hudā, Al Hudā Al Hāshmī, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb, Al Shams Al Jisārat, Al Vaqār Al Åbbās, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Dīn-e-Ilāhī, Feminism, Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar, Karbala, life sciences, Mughal-e-Åāzam, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Spendthrift Trusts, Yazīd malåūn | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012 Volume 4

Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3

Ved Nagar Volume 2

The Yacht

Chapter 2

Durgesh Al Hilāl Al Tayyab

I smiled at Al Hilāl Al Tayyab gravely.
“It’s not as simple as that, my twenty eight years old young Musalmān beloved. I am sixty four―”
She smiled sarcastically.
“You are fucking me, Durgesh. Can’t you be true even to your girlfriend for ten long years? No bloody sixty four can fuck me as wildly as you are. The most I can believe you to be, is thirty four, and it’s ultimate.”
I ignored the infinite times argued argument.
It was of no use ever.
“The point I was making, was that a condition by which a party is prevented from marrying is considered against public policy and void. Nevertheless that’s subject to certain qualifications. Particularly in the case of the trusts of the type that are known as the Spendthrift Trusts. The trust that was created under your Abbū’s will is exactly of one of the exact nature.
“Moreover, you may yourself note that there isn’t exactly any restrictions upon marriage itself. As a matter of fact, your Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, has been given a wide discretion in the matter. Your Abbū had immense faith on his youngest sister, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.”
“Nādirshāh Durrānī.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab chuckled coldly.
“What?”
“She has a wrong name. Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā must have been named Nādirshāh Durrānī.”
“Nonsense, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab,” I protested, “Al Jalāl Al Tayyab loves you even more than herself. You are the only heir to her too, and the only thing Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wants from you is, behave yourself, act your age, be responsible.”
“I am not interested in her money.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said furiously, “My Abbū has himself left enough for me.”
“You are getting Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wrong.”
“Stop protecting her. She doesn’t need anyone’s protection anymore. You have already trained her to protect herself from everyone.”
I smiled.
She was really impossible.
Her Abbū, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, was right.
Her Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was equally right too.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab needed constant protection from me.
Only I could control her optimum.
My ultimate intimacy with her, for ten long years even, had increased her arrogance instead of making her how to behave sophisticated.
The essential problem was, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab refused to learn anything new she did not know already.
“There are so many persons that say that some lawyers tell people what they can do and what they can’t, but you are always different from those damn fools. You invariably fix things ever so a person can do what s/he wants to do.”
I smiled.
My Uncut Hindu Prick was moving between her extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān labial lips more vigorously.
Her twenty eight years old young Musalmān Cunt was swallowing my sixty four years old Uncut Hindu Prick voraciously.
It was my constant experience that comparatively to my other women, my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān women were more ravenous to fuck me.
It did not, of course, necessarily mean that the Musalmān womankind was more ravenous than the rest of the entire womankind.
In my original Param Purush body that was synchronized now within my own Antim Ācharañ Nāyak body, of course, I was fucking the entire womankind nonstop in Param Vyom, the Absolute Space.
Yet, it was true that ravenous women were there in every society, not only in Ummat-e-Muslimah.
There were numerous reasons for a woman to be ravenous sexually.
Most of the human societies almost always fought with Hindu Society that Hindus were the most sex oriented men.
Ved/Hinduism expressly, specifically, especially, preaches its men to be utmost sex oriented.
If some of the human societies didn’t fight with Hindu Society ever on this point, they almost ever hated Hindus for it, if not expressly, clandestinely at least.
Yet, even such ever biased anti Hindu societies too can’t deny ever, truthfully, that it was only the Hindu Society that successfully faced always every movement that was against humanity and humankind.
The entire history of entire humankind stands to its evidence whether someone acknowledges it or not.
When Pseudo Isālm was massacring the entire non Musalmīn it was Ved/Hinduism that stopped its ever imperialist ever utmost harmful-to-humankind aggression in India.
Islam had already surrendered to Pseudo Isālm at Karbala to Yazīd malåūn and his Pseudo Musalmīn bandits.
The ever vain boasting Persians surrendered to it, by surrendering their entire homeland herself, to Pseudo Musalmīn of Yazīd malåūn and his Pseudo Musalmīn bandits.
It was India only that’s still practicing True Islam anywhere.
Even Turkey is second to India in this matter.
It was one of the ever greatest in Musalmīn, Mughal-e-Åāzam, Shahanshāh, Samrāŧ Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar, that revived True Islam in India, calling it Dīn-e-Ilāhī, separating it from Pseudo Isālm expressly.
And then it started fighting with Pseudo Isālm.*

I smiled.
It was a smile of wisdom garnered from bitter experiences of my past sixty four years, of knowledge amassed, accumulated, from the confidences of thousands of women and men.
If Al Hilāl Al Tayyab could only have even infinitesimal confidence in her aunt, her Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, of what her own Abbū had on his youngest shrewdest sister, she could easily understand Al Jalāl Al Tayyab loved her not anything less than her brother.
But there was her ever closest friend, Al Shams Al Jisārat.
She thought her aunt Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was after her money.
“That’s somewhat true,” I said, “but not entirely. One can almost always get a way out of any situation. If there’s a will, there’s a way.”
“Well,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab told me somewhat bitterly, “there’s a will in this case, my dear ever utmost experienced Hindu husband of sixty four years prudence. I want the way.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was never in the good book of Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
“Al Jalāl Al Tayyab never liked Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb.” I said.
“Are you telling me?” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab asked me inordinately.
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb knows of this provision in the will?”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab watched me with intense scrutinizing eyes.
“I think now Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb knows perhaps. He didn’t until now. Nevertheless, it’s immaterial. It’s neither here nor there. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb is himself a millionaire. He does not need my money.”
“I see. I think actually you don’t want to marry Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb. You actually want to cuckold him to please my Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Isn’t it?”*

Al Hilāl Al Tayyab smiled cunningly.
“What if I really want to do it?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is anti-Muslim now, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.”
“You are quite mistaken, my dear ever utmost experienced Hindu husband of sixty four years prudence. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is herself Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated. And she has proven it as many times as she razī Allāhu tålā ånahā has been challenged to prove it.”
“In front of ever immense superstitious Pseudo Musalmīn only.” I said bitterly, “I never interrupted her in her practical political strategies whenever they produced creative results.”
“And you think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, your De facto Chief Wife now, isn’t actually Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, reincarnated?” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab asked me ironically, “Only because you are not a Muslim, you are a Hindu instead. You haven’t any faith in Islam whatsoever.”
I kept fucking Al Hilāl Al Tayyab vehemently, patiently.
“Don’t try to make it a religious communal issue, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.”
“You have no right to call our religious faith communal, Durgesh.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said furiously bitterly, “It’s not your faith. It’s not your religion. It’s up to us Musalmīn to define what our religion is and what’s not.”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was adamant not to argue rationally without any bias and prejudices.
It was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s immensely thoroughly thought out deliberate strategy.
She worked on ever superstitious Pseudo Musalmīn and immensely biased, immensely selfish, extremely beautiful, Musalmān houseladies that were interested either in abnormal wild sex with me or in my ever infinite money.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wanted to cuckold Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb.
She wasn’t interested in truth at all.
Let the truth be whatsoever damn it.
She wanted to cuckold Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb because Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wanted it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had promised to let her inheritance released to Al Hilāl Al Tayyab from Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
Moreover, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab would have an immensely capable friend, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, to take care of her, besides me too.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab looked at me,
“Don’t make any mistake about it,” her voice was vibrant with emotion, “I’m going to marry Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb. It’s final. You have got to find some way so that I can do it. I leave that end of it up to you.”
I kept fucking Al Hilāl Al Tayyab scrutinizing her carefully.
“Well, you are adamant to cuckold Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, I think.”
“I am,” she said firmly.
“Okay. Let me look up the concerned court records before planning the optimum strategy. Let’s talk about it further, tomorrow morning.”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab pulled her glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī nude Musalmān bottom until my Uncut Hindu Prick was out of her Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt only its head remaining inside. Then she thrust it back into my nude male Hindu lap with her entire feminine lust.
It vanished into her Musalmān Cunt absolutely.
“Tomorrow morning is too late.” She shook her head, “The most I can afford is, this afternoon.”
I sighed disguising my exasperation.
“Okay. Give me time to look up the concerned court records in the meantime. Let’s talk further about it at four o’clock.”
“Okay.” She smiled at me ultimately.*

I fucked Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī engrossed in thoughtful appraisal.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī understood my mood absolutely now.
She knew I never wanted to be disturbed when I was thinking.
Ultimately, I jabbed a button on the side of my desk.
A young woman of twenty eight popped her beautiful head through the doorway leading from a law library, watched me fucking Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī gravely, smiled impishly, and entered the room.
“Al Vaqār,” I said, “go up to the court house and find the papers in the Al Tayyab Estate. An Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was given property amounting to more than a hundred million dollars in trust. The name of the trustee is Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. Check the decree of distribution, and also the will. Make copies of the trust provisions, then get back here as soon as you can.”
The gorgeous young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty blinked her eyes swiftly, twice.
“Al Tayyab?” she asked.
“Yes,” I smiled at her, “Al Tayyab Al Muħammad.”
“And Al Jalāl Al Tayyab?”
“And Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.” I confirmed.
“Okay.” Al Vaqār Al Åbbās smiled at me seductively, turned, crossed the stateroom with confident steps, proudly aware of my ever appreciative Hindu male gaze on her young plump luscious Musalmān buttocks, and plunged into the outer office at my yacht.
I smiled at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
She smiled at me too.
“Want something?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was all alert now.
She knew very well now when to keep quiet and when to speak.
Her manner radiated assurance and efficiency.
“Let’s check our impressions about Al Hilāl Al Tayyab today.” I said.
“She looked me trapped or sulky today.”
“Be specific. What was she? Trapped or sulky?”
“Does it make a lot of difference?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled impishly somewhat, squeezing her vaginal muscles around my entire Uncut Hindu Prick.
“Sure,” I said, “you had a chance to see her when Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wasn’t posing. You are a woman too. She doesn’t need to impress you. Almost every woman that’s beautiful, poses at least somewhat in masculine presence either knowingly or unknowingly.”
“I think you can’t blame us womankind for it.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
“I never do.”
“Did she tell you the truth?”
“None of them tell us the truth the first time usually,” I said, “the womankind don’t especially more than the mankind. That’s why I decided to take your opinion too. Did she look trapped, or did she look sulky?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī spoke thoughtfully, weighing her words carefully.
“I never saw her so trapped and sulky before. She was both today. I think she got caught in some kind of trap and had turned sulky.”
I smiled and pushed my Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt entirely with immense sexual lust for her.
“Are you sure Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wasn’t in panic?”
“What do you mean?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was suddenly all alert.
It was something new for her that a girl that appeared sulky ostensibly, might be actually in panic instead.
She had to learn from Durgesh infinitely even now.
Durgesh is perhaps the ever best psychologist now.
It’s immensely necessary to learn the human psychology as much as one can for not one’s progress only, but his/her survival too.
Durgesh is ever successful immensely in almost every field he is interested ever, because he never stops learning about human psychology.
“Nothing,” I smiled once more, “lots of people try to put a poker face when they are in a panic. It’s human nature. We never like to exhibit our weaknesses on others if we can manage it. Panic is a weakness. If the others know we are in a panic, even somewhat, they may take advantage of us at that time, our guards being down.”
“Wallāh, you are right. I never thought about it, Durgesh darling.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī kissed me on my lips cheerfully and squeezed her vaginal muscles appreciatively around my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“It’s elementary, my dear Watson.” I winked at her.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed appreciating me.
“When a person in panic tries to put on a poker face, nine times out of ten s/he looks sulky.”
“Allah,”
“That’s right. Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is a self-willed little devil who usually always gets her own way due to her parents’ unbalanced parental love for her. Al Tayyab Al Muħammad was a business tycoon. He thought money was everything. His parents taught him this wrong lesson. Money is very important but not everything even then.”
“Allah,”
“Al Tayyab Al Muħammad never paid proper attention to his offspring. He thought he is giving immense money to his daughters and that’s all his duty was to them.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was listening to me with absolute attention.
“It made him careless to his daughter that she was developing an ungovernable temper. He realized it, but too late to improve it. I think Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is caught in some sort of a trap. She is trying to get out of it.”
“A hell-cat?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
“A hell-cat.”*

Suddenly my receptionist there, Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb, pushed open the door.
“Yes, Al Jamīlah,” I addressed her.
“There’s a man in the outer office.”
“Name?”
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī looked at me.
“I see,” I murmured.
“He wants information about Miss Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.”
“Al Hilāl Al Tayyab?”
“Who has just been here.”
“You told him she has just been here?”
“Certainly not.”
“What does he say?”
“He says that he wants to see you.” Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb smiled, “I asked him about his nature of business with you. He said it’s about a client of yours. I informed him that he would have to give me the name of the client. And tell me something of the nature of the business. He said that it was about Miss Al Hilāl Al Tayyab and he is very anxious to see you about her.”
“I see. What did you tell him?”
“I told him that I wasn’t familiar with the names of your clients, he would have to be more specific concerning his business. He is frightfully excited.”
“About what, the girl or his business?”
“I don’t know that. All I know is that he is excited and nervous.”
I reached a decision.
There was nothing wrong in meeting with the man they were trying to cuckold.
Why not warn him?
Let me see his response to the information.
Moreover, he could tell me something Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was hiding from me.
“Okay,” I said, “send him in,”
Al Jamīlah Al Wahāb nodded and turned, holding the door open.
“You may come in,” she said.
There was a rustle of motion.
A man came into the room.
He radiated restlessness.
He was a man radiating femininity, instead of masculinity.
He needed Stavans to change his mental blue print.
But it was not easy for him.
The communals had attached Stavans, meditation, with Hinduism.
Instead of advising meditation, Stavans, to him, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Hilāl Al Tayyab were planning to cuckold him.
Eīshān Eīshān Shammā shamīshān!
Yet, I knew it was useless to argue with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Hilāl Al Tayyab on it.
They were irrationally adamant.
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb walked with nervous jerky steps.
He was either in late twenties or earlier thirties.
“Good day, counselor.” He smiled with vibrant manners despite his appearance.
“Good day. Please, sit down.” I offered him a chair.
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb hesitated, then sat down on the edge of one of the straight backed chairs.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb?” I asked him cordially.
“I want to find out whether Al Hilāl Al Tayyab called on you today.”
My face was patiently appraising.
“I’m sorry to tell you that I can’t divulge to you anything that my clients tell me in confidence. You should understand it’s a law office. Even a competent court can’t ask me who came to me to consult me legally and who didn’t. It’s not an information bureau, Mr. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb.”
I said it politely, not harshly.
Why kill a person who is already being killed?
If I can’t save him from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, at least I could be polite to him.
Couldn’t I?
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb jumped nervously to his feet, made some swift strides to the window, stood against the light for a moment, then whirled to stare at me.
His eyes were dark and smoldering.
He seemed to be fighting some overpowering emotion.

Chapter 3

————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

VED NAGAR: 61

Posted: July 14, 2013 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Adult Science Fiction, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Kubrā Al Qur’an, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Creations, Behavioural Science, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Padminī Bhārgav, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012

Volume 2

Ved Nagar

Chapter 61

Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Musalmān houseladies

Al Nadīm Al Quddūs drove around the corner, backed up in a driveway, turned the car, came back to place it against the curb, and switched off the motor.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt once more and looked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Why the hell doesn’t Al Nadīm Al Quddūs divorce her?
Can’t he understand Al Safiyah Al Ghaus would never come back to him now?
Is he one of the damn fools enough that can adjust with their cuckolding even, because they can’t manage to separate and antagonize their extremely beautiful ever smart richer Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife?
Most of the Musalmīn are managing now with their cuckold status to their Musalmān wives and Durgesh/their Musalmān wives’ Hindu lover(s).
Why?
Because their Musalmān wives can blackmail them now successfully more than they could before?
Because their Musalmān wives are now richer and more resourceful than their cuckold Musalmān husbands, and their cuckold Musalmān husbands can’t win them in any way?
She controlled however herself and smiled at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“I’ll give it to you in a nutshell, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. You can figure what must have happened. In the first place, my brother in law, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, was so afraid of us…”
“Us?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said scornfully, “So afraid of us? Never.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him,
“He was.” She said, “He was so afraid of me, at least, that despite Durgesh’s every assurance, he never agreed to continue as it was. Neither he wanted even his son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, to stay where I could reach or watch him.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at me, then he looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus again,
“Your new husband, Durgesh, planned it all?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wanted to humiliate Al Safiyah Al Ghaus by calling me her new husband.
But she was Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, too far inaccessible to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
She cooed, instead of feeling humiliated.
“Thanks for calling Durgesh my new husband. I love it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs gritted through his teeth.
“You are right.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled energetically, “Durgesh had everything all planned, down to the smallest detail. He had even instructed Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim not to sneak any of their clothes out of the house so they could have a dry change.”
“Why?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked bitterly.
“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus winked at him, “because both of them were insured and the insurance companies were going to make a thorough investigation.”
“Even if they pin it on Al Zohrah Al Bittol and Al Taufīq Al Fatimah?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her incredulously.
“No matter what they do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying her theory, “The insurance companies are going to look into the thing. A huge amount is involved in both the cases separately. The murder stories in both the cases are improbable as hell. If in their investigation, they find anything that looks like collusion, conspiracy, their fat will really be in fire.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s this way,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “As far as the police are concerned, they are perfectly willing to make murders out of it. It’s Ved Nagar. The police are managed by Ved Nagar administration already.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed,
“You are forgetting that Ved Nagar isn’t confined to India only. It has infinite levels, both visible and invisible. Every level here is divided rigidly by a horizontal layer of fifty square miles of Hirañý metal, utmost hardest metal ever found by humankind, resting upon some countless steel girdered pillars.”*

Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly,
“I am not forgetting anything, my child. Your Ammī, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, wasn’t born yesterday. Just listen to your Ammī and appreciate. The insurance companies have extended their branches everywhere. Haven’t they?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus,
“What do you mean?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim are criminals/criminal minded Musalmīn. They hadn’t acquired their billions through legal means.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said heatedly.
“As if I still care what the damn you do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said acidly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her, but he was too angry to her now, to respond.
“The insurance companies act somewhat different from the police.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said shrewdly, “The police investigate murders while the insurance companies are always afraid of a collusion between husband and wife. In both the cases the wives of the victims are involved. Al Zohrah Al Bittol is Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wife, even if she is on anticipatory bail and the police can’t arrest her. Al Taufīq Al Fatimah has her husband’s duly signed affidavit that she is not responsible for his murder. Someone was implicating her already, deliberately, even when Muħammad bin Qāsim was alive. In fact, there must be some finicky Pseudo Musalmīn who didn’t want her to appear in the porn movies she was adamant to do with Durgesh. She married Muħammad bin Qāsim on that condition. Moreover, it was also a condition that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to direct that porn movie. By staging their fake murders Muħammad bin Qāsim has got rid of making that porn movie for his wife, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, with Durgesh as her leading hero, and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has got rid of to direct it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled,
“I have already written the entire screenplay of the movie and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had already paid me fully for the same.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled bitterly.*

I kept silence.
There was no use in interfering.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying that she had compelled Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim, both, to run away from her ultimately, despite the fact that I was personally helping them.
“The first thing the insurance companies do is to start looking around for collusion.”
It was as if a solo performance for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Even Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t interested in criticizing her any more.
He had realized its futility.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with her.
And apparently it was her victory now that both Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had run away.
She was already the Conservator.
Until now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had won the battle for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus even against me.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was sure it could not be the final.
Durgesh was certainly playing some deep game.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was also worried.
“Our ever cunning Hindu husband can’t be that dumb, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“You are right, Naåīmah,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said worriedly, “Durgesh can’t be that dumb.”*

Neither it was easy to get conservatorship nor to maintain it.’
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was in Durgesh’s Live in relationship now.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had certainly learned how to protect his extremely beautiful niece’s interests.
“I know now that they were schemers.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd told me, “But it’s too late now.”
“Nothing is too late ever.” I pushed my ever utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Cock into Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd’s comparatively too young ardent Musalmān Cunt, “keep your thinking positive always. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim told me everything, yet he slipped somewhere in acting on my scheme exactly as I told him. Otherwise Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could never had been appointed conservator by a court of justice.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd kissed me on my Hindu male lips.
Despite there were so many problems, she was confident now that she was safe.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, her dangerously beautiful step Ammī, had succeeded in blackening her ever pious, ever sacred character before her Abbū’s eyes, but her uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, understood Al Safiyah Al Ghaus very well.
She was a gold digger.
It was soon known that Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā had appointed Al Safiyah Al Ghaus the conservator.
They got their order from Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.
The order appointing Al Safiyah Al Ghaus as conservator for the estate of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was made when Al Safiyah Al Ghaus qualified with a bond with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s help, and immediately proceeded to take charge.
“All right,” I looked at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “I happen to oblige Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s secretary.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled,
“She has her boyfriend cheated? I never knew.”
I smiled cunningly.
“It’s always a matter of impulse, Al Hudā. Her boyfriend couldn’t provide her such a legendary unique sex that I can. She loves her boyfriend very much. They are soon to marry each other too. But on the impulse of the moment, a very single moment, Al Kubrā Al Qur’an found she was absolutely alone with me. She grabbed my Penis. I never refuse to any lady when she needs me to that extent.”
“You fucked Al Kubrā Al Qur’an?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī’s beautiful Musalmān eyes brightened, “wow, I never knew. She always criticizes you.”
“Well,” I kept smiling cunningly at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “There are so many young ladies who keep criticizing me, yet whenever they themselves get a chance, they never miss it. They always fuck me belligerently and then call it only an animal surge. An exception to their normal life. They say I am too greatest a temptation to resist if there’s a chance.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed,
“The bloody ever hypocrite bitches. Never miss any chance to fuck you, yet never equally miss any chance to criticize you too that you must not surrender to every sexual demand from the women on impulse. Hahaha.”
I kept smiling,
“Let them have their own kind of fun, Al Hudā. Ultimately they are not harming me even a bit. Let them fuck me whenever they can, and criticize me when they don’t.”
“You mean they are actually jealous of us, your other lady friends who enjoy sex with you, not clandestinely?”
I tolerated the obvious,
“Al Kubrā Al Qur’an stays in Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s chambers until twelve thirty. Ring her and find out if Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā hasn’t any important appointment at one thirty. I want to see him personally on this conservatorship matter. If he doesn’t have any legal problem to meet, I want to see him personally before he goes on the bench this afternoon. Tell him it’s very important.”*

Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā came bustling into his chambers.
“Hello, Durgesh, the greatest…”
“Nonsense,” I smiled.
“Well,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā laughed, “I don’t agree with you. It’s a fact whether you admit it or not, out of your courtesy, that you are the most important person now. The Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act is being opposed by some communal Brāhmañs, being represented by yourself.”
“Cut it,” I raised my hand, “your United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations have snatched away the Swayamvar right of your Brahm Padminīs. You have actually surrendered to Bhr’gu Kālchakrānsh, Bhr’gu time slot, without fighting with it. Padminī Bhārgav hasn’t any right whatsoever…”
“I am a Judge, Durgesh. I am not a law maker. I am only a responsible citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations . If my Creations decides that no Brahm Padminī is any more for anyone except you, it’s all right with me. If I don’t like Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, well, I am free to leave United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. Am I not?”
“Your Brahm Padminī wives…”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand,
“They are not my wives any longer. They are Brahm Jagdambās now, please! Every Brahm Padminī who the heck ever she is, now is your wife constitutionally if she is a citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. If she doesn’t want it, well, she can surrender her citizenship to United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations anytime she damn chooses, anywhere. Nobody is snatching away her Swayamvar right. No, never. I don’t agree with you. I agree with the Constitution of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, as it’s amended to the benefits of its subject.”
I watched him scrutinizing.
“Okay,” I said at length, “I’m sorry to find that you have more faith in my ever communal Bhārgav wife, Padminī Bhārgav, than you have in me.”
“I respect you very much. But sorry, I have my constitutional obligations too.”
“I am surprised. Haven’t you any self-respect that…”
“Enough,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand, “if we don’t have any other subject to discuss, will you please excuse me? I have many cases on my calendar to hear.”
“Okay, let’s discuss a conservatorship case then.” I said patiently, “I think perhaps I’m going to appear before you, in your court, on a contested matter. I don’t want to jeopardize your position or mine by discussing the case itself. Yet, I do want to get some history and, if possible, find out the reasoning back of an order you made in the case.”
“I see. What’s the case?”
“The matter of the Al Muħammad Al Qāsim conservator.”
“Why, I handled that just a couple of days ago.”
“I know you did.” I said gravely.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā looked at me shrewdly,
“You think there is anything wrong with the case?”
I looked at him impassively,
“Let’s not either of us discuss anything except the history, nevertheless, I would appreciate your thinking.”
“I doubt it.”
“I beg your pardon,”
“You never appreciated my thinking on Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.”
“Should we again indulge into…”
“I’ll discuss any guardianship matter anytime,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “In those cases, the Court wants all the information it can get.
“Mind you, I don’t want you to tell me anything you feel should come before me by way of evidence in a contested matter. Nevertheless, I’m certainly willing to tell you how I felt.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s eagerness to hear me in this case, yet not even a bit in Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, made me suddenly all alert.
So, Padminī Bhārgav had played a deeper game this time than I anticipated from her?
She had provided extremely beautiful Musalmān wives to every Brāhmañ that lost his Brahm Padminī wife to me due to Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.
She did it successfully because she did it in collusion with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
They both got advantaged in this way.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had succeeded in deputizing her almost infinite Musalmān agents, ever loyal to her and her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations .
Padminī Bhārgav had found an ever loyal friend in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
The Brāhmañ citizens of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations found ashvinātam sharīr yantrs for them.
They had got rid of their ever dominating Brahm Padminī wives too, for ever, without divorcing and paying any alimony whatsoever to them.
What was the harm in playing law abiding citizens and sacrificing human being too?
Were they not compensated financially too, optimum?
I controlled myself.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā was telling me continuously, *

I was all attention now.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is an old man.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He is confused. There is no question about that, he was incoherent.”
I didn’t contradict him.
It was neither the proper place for it, nor proper time.
It was the only relevant thing now to know about what the legal conspiracy was actually Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was facing only because he wanted to help Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was excited.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He was emotional. Apparently he had made a check for ten million dollars to some young woman who had been living in the house with him.
“When we get a combination like that, we figure that something needs to be done. I appointed a conservator on a temporary basis only, with the statement that the Court would review it at any time any additional facts come up.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā stopped talking and looked at me,
“You feel that you have some other facts?”
“Sure,” I said.
“No problem,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā smiled affably, “The order is subject to review with additional facts. Tomorrow morning at ten too early for you to present your facts?”
“I think not,” I myself smiled.
“I am not going to ask to have Al Muħammad Al Qāsim brought into Court. It may upset him, the Court hearing, I mean. I’ll take a look at any additional facts that are presented and then if I want to amend, suspend, modify the order I made, I’ll do it. That suits you?”

Chapter 62
——————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

Ved Nagar: 54

Posted: May 16, 2013 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Pratāp Bachhalyā, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, Taufīq Fātimah, Vikram Bachhalyā | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012

Volume 2

Ved Nagar

Durgesh Al Zohrah Al Bittol
Durgesh ACP Suraiyā Jamāl

Chapter 54

Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at Al Zohrah Al Bittol smiling cunningly.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed at her.
“Look at me as much as you please.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol cooed, “You can’t do anything whatsoever, nevertheless. I am on anticipatory bail, I’ve told you already.”
“You said you jumped out of bed, grabbed the gun and didn’t even wait to put a robe on?”
“That’s right.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol kept fucking me smiling at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl triumphantly, “I came flying up the companionway and was just approaching the bow when I saw a vague figure swaying this way and that, apparently engaged in a struggle of some sort.”
“A figure?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked sarcastically.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol grimaced.
“I refuse to answer your insulting questions. You are trying to irritate me. I would prefer to give my testimony in a competent court.”
“That’s what you think.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled tartly.
“That’s what I’m going to do. You don’t have any legal right to insult and humiliate me.”
“It’s not you that’s taking this attitude to a responsible police officer.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said smirking, “It’s Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis visiting your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt that’s letting you fly so high.”
“I’m glad you have eyes at least, even if you don’t have any manners whatsoever.”
“I may request to cancel your bail.”
“Oh, sure. Go ahead. Do everything on the earth you are capable of. If you really get it canceled I’d wash your feet and drink the water that is used in washing them.”*

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled.
She wasn’t born yesterday.
She realized the truth in Al Zohrah Al Bittol’s voice.
So, Al Zohrah Al Bittol was really innocent?
Despite she was on the deck when Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was overboard,
Despite she had a revolver in her hand, Despite Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah heard an ‘explosion of some sort.
Did Durgesh deliberately stage this improbable story for her?
Why?
The night was filled with sounds of hectic activity now.
Opening and closing doors and frightened feet sounded in the passageways and on the companionways.
The swift babble of voices kept up an incessant, a nonstop, chatter.
Moreover, cutting through all of the sounds of confusion, my crisp, authoritative voice was giving orders.
The motorboats had been lowered to the water and engines started.
Each of them cruised in a series of questing circles around the ship.
“The figure was apparently engaged in a struggle of some sort,” Al Zohrah Al Bittol repeated, “but I saw only the one figure.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl stopped herself with efforts, not to smirk.
What was the use?
Al Zohrah Al Bittol would again stop telling her story.
Shouldn’t at least she listen to it?
She saw only the one figure.
Yet, it was engaged in a struggle of some sort.
With whom the hell was it struggling then?
Nonsense!
Al Zohrah Al Bittol realized the question her statement generated.
“The other one must have been below the deck.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol advanced her assumption.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me pleadingly.
“Go on,” I grabbed the splendid heavy buttocks of Al Zohrah Al Bittol and arched my waist up.
My Uncut Hindu Penis penetrated her ardent Musalmān Cunt as a spear as if.
Her bottom was coming down at the same time.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol shouted in superb ecstasy.
“Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! What the hell are you doing to me?”
I caressed her buttocks and kissed her on her lips passionately.
She controlled herself and resumed.
Now, her up and down motion had stopped.
She was sitting on my Uncut Hindu Penis swallowing it entirely into her Musalmān Cunt.
I was enjoying the honor myself too to its utmost extent.
“Just before I got there,” Al Zohrah Al Bittol continued, “the man lurched and fell overboard. I screamed involuntarily as I heard the splash. Then there was the sound of an explosion and a series of splashing noises. By the time I had reached the bow. I could hear my name being called now.”
I was listening to her gravely.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at each other.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was alone, after me, that was too listening to it gravely.*

Al Zohrah Al Bittol watched me, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.
Then she went on,
“I bent over the rail. I could see now a figure of a man in the water. It was floundering around aimlessly. It was floundering as if it was wounded badly and was trying to swim desperately.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī also looked at me.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl did smirk again, as if asking me,
‘If Al Zohrah Al Bittol is really innocent how Al Muħammad Al Qāsim would have been wounded?
Why was he trying to swim desperately?
Who the hell wounded Al Muħammad Al Qāsim if not Al Zohrah Al Bittol?’
I was reading the questions on their faces.
But I didn’t ask Al Zohrah Al Bittol anything.
She went on,
“Then the figure moved into the oval of light that was coming from a porthole in the forecastle and I could see his face. He was Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my husband. He seemed partially paralyzed. He called me and tried to call out a message. I couldn’t hear what he said. His voice was almost inaudible. Abruptly he ceased to struggle and was swept down by the current under the overhang of the bow. I thought he was coming down the starboard side. I ran that way. Unfortunately, apparently, he drifted down the port side.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl grimaced.
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t conform to the facts as they must have happened.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol smirked.
“I sympathize with you.”
“I beg your pardon?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly.
“That the facts don’t understand how compulsory it is to obey you.”
“When Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis is inside your Musalmān Cunt you can fly in sky very high.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl commented drily.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim couldn’t have been telephoning from the bow of the yacht. It was virtually impossible.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly”*

There were no vacant chairs at the dinner.
Sheeted rain lashed against the portholes.
The guests who made merry with colored paper caps, balloons and pasteboard horns lacked spontaneity.
Their merriment seemed merely a forced attempt to comply with maritime, nautical, conventions.
Awfully striking lady robot waitresses felt their way, a few steps at a time, half-filled dishes carried in deep serving trays.
Fucking Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and dining, I looked across where Muħammad bin Qāsim and his Hollywood heroine wife, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, were entertaining Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Vikram Bachhalyā, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Pratāp Bachhalyā and Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah were also there with Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim.

With darkness, the faint mist that had been forming on the water thickened into fog, and as we sat down to dinner the hoarse fog whistle boomed out its eerie, unnerving, warning.
Thereafter at regular intervals through the meal the fog whistle served to remind us that we were on the water and a fog was settling down.
“Doesn’t look as though we’ll get back tonight.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah said.
“Wouldn’t you tackle it in a fog?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus enquired.
“Not unless I have to.” I pulled nude Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to me.
She laughed ecstatically and pushed her extremely glorious nude Musalmān bottom into my nude Hindu male lap.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smilingly deserted it for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
My Uncut Hindu Penis made a sound of ‘pluck’ as it came out of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s thirty two years old young Musalmān Cunt.
It was heavily anointed with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt juices.
As soon as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus positioned her immensely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt against the tip of my Uncut Hindu Penis and pushed, my thoroughly lubricated Uncut Hindu Penis immediately entered into Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs could not watch it.
He averted his eyes immediately.
“Slut,” he murmured to himself.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had heard it.
She laughed humiliating Al Nadīm Al Quddūs immensely and started fucking me herself vigorously, energetically, dynamically, forcefully, and strongly.
I put my hands on her glamorous nude Musalmān waist.
Yet, it was not necessary.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus herself was vigilant enough that my Uncut Hindu Penis must never come out of her Musalmān Cunt entirely, and it must penetrate her Musalmān Cunt vigorously instead without any hindrance whatsoever it may be.*

Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was feeling himself immensely insulted.
But what could he do?
Even before his marriage with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, he knew she loved immense sex.
He thought he could provide him the same.
He was too confident of his manly potency living in extreme over confidence.
He was too obsessed with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s devastating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty that he thought he could make love to her till infinity.
Hell, he could not, practically ever.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wanted more and more sex from him.
Her first husband had committed suicide due to intense shame he faced when he could not satisfy Al Safiyah Al Ghaus sexually.
Now, Durgesh is providing her even more sex than even Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could digest.
How crazy Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was for Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund getting into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She undressed herself while Durgesh was fucking his Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Why Al Safiyah Al Ghaus did so?
To seduce Durgesh herself.
Isn’t it?
And when Durgesh saw her nude Musalmān beauty and pulled Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to him, how ecstatically she laughed, positioned Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund herself between the ravenous quivering ever greedy lips of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
How ecstatically Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is pushing her ever magnificent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bottom to Durgesh’s ever sexy nude Hindu male lap.
She is swallowing Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund deepest every time she thrust back her bottom, into her extremely greedy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her eyes are brightest when Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund is deepest into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
They lost their brightness as Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund left her Musalmān Choot.
But they were again brightest when Durgesh Uncut Hindu Lund is again deepest back into her still greedy still ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Suddenly he realized the persons were gathering in a wide circle around Durgesh and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, fucking Durgesh ravenously entirely unashamed of herself.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was horrified.
Allah, no.
Nooooooooooooooo!
Everyone would ask who she is.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs would die of shame.*

Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had said,
“Don’t trust the bitch. Fuck her and enjoy her beautiful body. But never trust the bitch. She’s a snob. Ever notice how it happens that people who have real background and breeding are considerate, tolerant, and broad-minded, while people who haven’t anything except money that they didn’t earn themselves, are intolerant? That’s my Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, you fuck wildly, I guess.”
I tried to say something but Al Muħammad Al Qāsim raised his hand and stopped me.
“Listen to me, please; I’m your father in law too.”
I looked at him gravely.
“My entire daughters, except Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, love you. She loved Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and married him. My Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, has got about the nicest figure I’ve ever seen on a woman. And I’ve too seen lots of them.
“Never underestimate my Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Durgesh. She uses her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body as her ever best weapon. When you fuck her she is the most capable and even having all the smartness you are less capable than her, because your Uncut Hindu Lund is inside her ever smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.”
I smiled.
“Sorry for using those words, but that’s it.” Al Muħammad Al Qāsim said bitterly, “That woman enjoys your Uncut Hindu Lund in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, but it sharpens her brain.”
I laughed.
“You don’t believe me? Try to test what I’m telling you. The more you fuck my Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, the sharper is her already ever smart brain. She made Bhāījān, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, to disinherit his own daughter when he was fucking the bitch. Never underestimate her, I repeat. She’s smart. My Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, is chain lightning! She’s got her eye on a big slice of money, and Bhāījān, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, hasn’t waked up yet, despite the fact that he has lost his daughter to me.
“That’s all right. Let him sleep. He has paid for a dream. As long as he’s enjoying the dream, why grab him by the shoulder and bring him back to the grim realities of existence?”*

I grabbed her waist and started fucking her myself too.
Her extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt was one of the perfect homes for my Uncut Hindu Penis.
After fucking Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan to my heart’s content, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was an extremely pleasant replacement to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Cunts were extremely ravenous for my Uncut Hindu Penis.
Yet, they both had their own individualities too.
I knew now why Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was so ravenous for me.
Neither of her Musalmān husbands could fuck her even properly.
Her vaginal grip around my Uncut Hindu Penis was almost virginal.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was penetrating her first time properly.
It was natural she loved me more now than either of her incompetent Musalmān husbands.
“You are my husband now, not Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, the impotent.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus whispered to me.
I smiled and kissed her on her beautiful lips.
“Thank you, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“It’s my pleasure, Durgesh darling.”
“Well,” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed suddenly, “you both are made for each other, doubtlessly. Nevertheless, I can’t stay all night.”
She glanced at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah too.
“Well,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed, “I don’t think we have much choice in the matter, Bājī.”
I smiled at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
Then still fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus vigorously, I assured Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, don’t worry. I’ve plenty of room. We can put everybody up nicely.”
“Look here,” Muħammad Ůsmān interrupted, “what’s the idea behind this thing? Almost all of us know very well that at this season of the year, there’s always fog and rain even, on this part of the sea.”
“Yet, you accepted the invitation.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Muħammad Ůsmān contemptuously.
“Not always,” Muħammad bin Qāsim interrupted hastily.
He was the one who accepted the invitation, not Muħammad Ůsmān.
Muħammad Ůsmān had only agreed to it.
“Don’t worry,” Muħammad Ůsmān said sarcastically, “after fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to his heart’s content, Durgesh would fuck you too. I’d request him to oblige you too.”
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah sympathized with him.
“Thank you. So, ultimately you are absolutely impotent now?”
I interrupted to stop the hot exchanges between Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah and Muħammad Ůsmān.
“Well, Muħammad Ůsmān is right somewhat, Muħammad bin Qāsim. It’s not always, but it’s nearly always. However, Muħammad Ůsmān, I can get out the ship and put you ashore at a little town on a Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Island, about ten miles upstream. There’s an airline that will get you back to Ved Nagar.”
“That would be deuced uncomfortable.” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “Muħammad bin Qāsim is just recovering from a case of stomach trouble.”
“Food poisoning,” Muħammad bin Qāsim interrupted.
“Well,” I announced still pumping Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, now even more severely, “I’m not going to risk the safety of the ship and the convenience of the other guests. Muħammad Ůsmān, you can get in a launch and get an interurban if you want to.”
“I don’t want to.” Muħammad Ůsmān said furiously, “Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is still my wife. I can’t leave her behind for you to fuck her as if she is a slut, not my respected Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.”
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed and licked my Uncut Hindu Lund coming out of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“It’s very tasty. Muħammad Ůsmān, come on, taste for yourself.”
“Go to hell.” Muħammad Ůsmān shouted back to her.
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah winked at him.
“Sorry, Muħammad Ůsmān. You’ve to go alone there. I can’t and won’t accompany you ever now.”
Muħammad Ůsmān gritted his teeth.
“Muħammad Ůsmān,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly, “sit here and enjoy life. Durgesh, you said you have some champagne on ice?”
“I don’t talk business when I drink.” Muħammad bin Qāsim declared.
“All right,” still fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, I pulled Al Taufīq Al Fatimah too to me, squeezed her immensely rich Musalmān buttocks and kissed her on her red crimson lips, “Muħammad bin Qāsim, what’s your proposition?”

Chapter 55
————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

Ved Nagar: 53

Posted: May 10, 2013 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat, Uncategorized | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Aħmad Kamāl, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Kamāl, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Seven Movements, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl | Leave a comment

Midterm 2012

Volume 2

Ved Nagar

Durgesh Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl
Durgesh Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl
Durgesh Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl

Chapter 53

Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54,
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39,
And Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl, 20,
All the three were my practical wives while I was already sixty then.
Actually Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, had me first.
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl was her daughter in law actually.
And, Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl was her granddaughter.
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, her Bahū Bégam, actually blackmailed her mother in law, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, was startled.
“What? You want to cheat my son, Aħmad Kamāl?”
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, smiled.
She didn’t say anything.
Only watched my legendary Uncut Hindu Penis vanishing into Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54,’s still ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, significantly, sarcastically.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl was furious.
“Don’t watch it like a she hawk. You are entirely twenty one years younger than Durgesh.”
There was intense venom and scorn in her voice, for her Bahū Bégam.
She never thought she was also enjoying me out of wedlock.
If it was moral why it was immoral that her daughter in law was watching her enjoying sex with me and not even ashamed of her act.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl expected respect from her Bahū Bégam still now.
She expected her Bahū Bégam, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, must respect her, even now, as she was respectful to her until now.
She must have respected her privacy with me.
Even if she had seen it, she must have ignored it and made a respectful exit from there.
Instead, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, was trying to blackmail her, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl?
Was Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl crazy?
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl could not bear it any more.
She ordered her Bahū Bégam, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, ultimately.
“Go away. Don’t you have etiquette enough, not to watch your mother in law in her intimate moments with her man?”
“I never watched you, Ammī, with Abbū, Muħammad Kamāl.” Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl said obediently and respectfully perfectly.
“Well, I said, ‘with my man’, not with my impotent husband’.”*

There was no more splashing, no more hanging against the side of the yacht.
Then there was the noise of confusion as doors opened and closed.
There was the sound of tense voices, hurrying feet.
“Did you scream?” I asked the stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty I was holding in my arms.
“I went there myself hearing it.” she smiled disarmingly, but there wasn’t anyone.”
“Then what about the scream we heard?”
“Your security persons were there. They were talking of a young woman who thought someone was behind her. She screamed. The security persons found no one when they searched the vicinity.”
She was still playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis.
I smiled.
“Sorry, I’ve to have firsthand information from my security itself.”
She smiled at me seductively.
“Oh, sure. I understand. Go ahead.”
“Won’t you care to introduce yourself, if you don’t mind?” I smiled seductively myself.*

The stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty smiled.
“I’m Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
“Glad to meet you.”
“Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl is my Kħālājān. Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl is my Kħālāzād sister, my cousin actually.”
“I have a vague remembrance that I’ve seen you with Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl.”
“Thank you for remembering me.” She kept smiling, “May I get the honor of sucking the great Durgesh’s unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis?”
I laughed.
“You are already playing with it. Go ahead. It’s not actually that I’m honoring you. It’s my pleasure instead. I’m being honored. Thank you.”*

Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“I’m honored. Thank you. The pleasure is certainly mine. You have really broken all the conventions. The parents are arranging now to gift your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis to their beloved Just Eighteen Just Adult daughters on their eighteenth birthday. Isn’t it a miracle? The husbands are arranging now to gift your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis to their beloved wives on their Shab-e-Ůrūsī, their Golden Night even, on anniversaries and other memorable events too to make them more memorable.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol unzipped me, brought my Uncut Hindu Prick out, kissed it respectfully, licked it and then swallowed entirely into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

My security was in action still now.
The deck was flooded with illumination now.
Yet, it did not stop Al Zohrah Al Bittol from sucking my Uncut Hindu Prick.
Instead, she was sucking it now more excited.
Was she an exhibitionist?
I could not decide.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl appeared there suddenly.
“Durgesh, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was on board.”
“What?” I was all alert suddenly.
“The stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty that’s sucking you now so indebted, so gratefully, is actually one of the present four wives of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. Her name is Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
I watched Al Zohrah Al Bittol gravely now.
“She has told me her name.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol increased the speed of sucking my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“She can’t get away with it by only sucking your Uncut Hindu Penis.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl shouted, “Your new Musalmān girlfriend has killed her husband, do you knowwwwww?”*

Al Zohrah Al Bittol looked at me gravely.
“The Pseudo Musalmīn have framed me deliberately, Durgesh darling. Your so called innocent Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was actually helping them.”
“Shut up.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said coldly, “I know your story now. What the hell do you think? You stunning Musalmān Beauties, you stunning Musalmān houseladies, can get away with murders even, only because Durgesh loves to fuck you?”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol winked at her.
“You can’t arrest me, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.”
“Why? Because you are sucking Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked her sarcastically.
“Because I had already anticipated it. I’ve taken anticipatory bail already.”
“I know.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly, “Why the hell are you here on the deck?”
“Tut tut tut. Warn me first, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, that anything I may say may be used against me.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me angrily.
“She is already speaking your legal language. What the hell you do? As soon as they take your Uncut Hindu Penis in their hands and mouth they suddenly become unapproachable legally.”
I smiled.
“Give her your version of the events, Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
Someone had thrown over a life preserver with a carbide canister attached.
A brilliant white light spread over the surface of the water.
It illuminated the life preserver, the water around the ship.
It threw against the heavy wall of fog a strange, distorted shadow of the ship running to the disputed island.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim were representing Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim telephoned me. He was extremely excited.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said, He said he needed his gun. He said it was on the top of the dresser. He requested me to bring the gun to him on the deck.”
“I see.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled sarcastically patiently.
“Where the hell from was he telephoning to you?”
“He said he was telephoning from the bow of the ship.”
“Sure?”
“How can I? All I know what he said to me.”
“You had recognized his voice?”
“He was my husband. Wasn’t he? Can’t I recognize even my own husband’s voice?” Al Zohrah Al Bittol asked ACP Suraiyā Jamāl bitterly.
“That’s what I am asking you myself.”
“She is already biased against me, Durgesh. Don’t you see?”
“Al Zohrah Al Bittol is right, Suraiyā .” I said gravely, “You are a police officer. Act properly. If Al Zohrah Al Bittol can prove you act biased against her, you can be prosecuted for misusing your powers. She is too a taxpayer. You have to protect her civilian rights too.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me sarcastically.
“Al Zohrah Al Bittol is a Kħālāzād cousin of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, do you know?”*

I looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.
“Suraiyā,” I said patiently, “How many times I have told you not to be prejudiced, even infinitesimally, against any one you suspect. You are not a judge, you are only a police officer. I’ve told you already, she has met me now. How can she tell me how many Kħālāzād, Māmūzād, Buāzād, Chachāzād etc. sisters she does have?”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl grimaced.
“Be blind deliberately as much as the damn you want to be, only because she is extremely beautiful and she is fucking you now herself to protect herself. I’m not a man, thanks, thanks God, Allah. She can’t blind me.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“She is jealous of me, Durgesh.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled bitterly.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim told you he was telephoning you from the bow of the ship?”
“That’s right.”
“I see.”
“He said it was a matter of life and death for him. I had to come fast with his revolver.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said, fucking me savagely now.
Her bottom was moving up and down on my Uncut Hindu Penis, taking it into her Musalmān Cunt every time when it was down.
“What did you do when he asked you to do so?”
“I jumped out of bed, grabbed the gun and didn’t even wait to put a robe on.”
“So that you can fuck Durgesh sooner to win him on your side?”
“So that I can save him before it’s too late, if it was really a matter of life and death for him.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said curtly.
“How nice of you.”
“That’s right.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said tersely, “How nice of me! Why the hell are you questioning me if you are so prejudiced against me already?”
“Oh, it’s routine, Umm-Al-Åālmīn.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl answered exaggerating her politeness ironically, “How lucky you are that you are extraordinary stunning. If you weren’t, you couldn’t have fucking Durgesh and I would have arrested you easily.”
“I sympathize with you, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.”
Suddenly, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s cellular phone rang.
“Yes, SP Zubaydah Bābar, Have you got the fingerprints report? Okay. That’s fine. Nice job, so fast. Congrats. Tell me what did you find? Any of the receivers had Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s fingerprints?”*

I felt a feminine palm on my arm.
I looked at her.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was still visiting the triumphant Musalmān Cunt of Al Zohrah Al Bittol vigorously.
It was Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
She was dressed in pajamas and slippers, bundling a robe around her.
Yet, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wasn’t alone.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was also with her.
I watched both of them.
They were more understanding than the rest of them.
Moreover, they both knew it was not actually the disputed island only that we were on this yacht now.
It was actually the excuse only.
The Pseudo Musalmīn were trying to make even Ved Nagar hot for Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had already ‘exiled’ him from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
She thought only Ved Nagar could protect her Abbū now from the ever crazy Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn.
“What happened?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah asked.
“What do you know yourself? Tell me first.” I said gravely, “Then I’d tell you what I know, but you don’t.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me, ignoring that I was entirely nude now on my back, Al Zohrah Al Bittol was nude too entirely, she was straddling me and fucking me wildly.
It was routine in Ved Nagar, and in my daily life too.
“I heard someone shout ‘Man Overboard’ and a splash.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said.
“Did you hear a shot?” I asked.
“I heard an explosion of some sort.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, watching me prudently.
She could not believe it could happen on my ship, without any prior information to me.
What the hell was happening?
Was Durgesh himself playing a deep game to protect someone?
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim couldn’t be murdered in this way on Durgesh’s yacht.
Even an utmost foolish murderer would never do it, let it be any wife of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself.
She knew Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had especially consulted Durgesh about his utmost greedy relatives.
Was it Durgesh‘s strategy for Al Muħammad Al Qāsim to get rid of his ever greedy relatives?*

Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly.
“I knew you would advise him something like that.”
She was on her knees and I was fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus from her glorious behind.
I looked at her innocently.
“What the hell are you talking about, my extremely sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān love?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was under constant surveillance of our Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement detectives.”
“And you think I didn’t know it?”
“If you knew it why all the strategy ab initio?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at me incredulously.
“You and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were planning to declare Al Muħammad Al Qāsim legally incompetent to deal with his own money and assets. He has transferred all of them to his own legal heirs in his will already. He is dead now legally. You can’t get him declared incompetent now. He has gone underground.”
“I never knew you were so afraid of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed triumphantly.
I smiled ironically.
“You call it fear, I call it precaution.”*

Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at his extremely beautiful wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, scornfully.
His brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s money had converted her into an utmost greedy bitch.
He had proposed her to get a divorce from him.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had laughed at his proposal.
“You can’t get away from me, in this way, my dear husband.”
“I’m not your husband any more.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly to her, “Durgesh is your practical husband now.”
“Almost entire Musalmān Beauties, almost entire Musalmān houseladies, fuck Durgesh/other capable Hindus extra martially, because their ever incurable ever religious Musalmān husbands can’t satisfy them sexually…”
“Bosh and nonsense.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs cut her short, “It’s not sex only you Musalmān Beauties, you Musalmān houseladies , are after Durgesh/Hindus for.”
“Oh,”
“You want to get rid of our terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn image too. You want to get rid of our backward image too. You want to get rid of our rigid adamant anti human image too.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs charged his ever shrewd wife scornfully.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled ironically.
“And we should never do it?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t answer this blunt question.
“Well,”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“Even if you are right, what’s wrong in it, if we Musalmān Beauties, we Musalmān houseladies, really do it? Shouldn’t we get rid of our backward image if we can get rid of it? Shouldn’t we get rid of our terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn image too, if we can? Shouldn’t we get rid of our rigid adamant anti human image too, if we can? If you don’t want to get rid of these images, it’s alright with us. We are not compelling you to do it. Then why do you criticize us? Are we your slaves, not your Musalmān houseladies?”*

As soon as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said she had heard an ‘explosion of some sort’, I ordered,
“Rig up the searchlights.”
A man from the top of the pilothouse said,
“I’m getting it, sir.”
The canvas covers were ripped off the searchlights.
A moment later the arcs sputtered into brilliance.
The long shafts of light pushed themselves against the opalescent fog to be swallowed up in milky nothingness.
“Try the stern,” I said, “a little back of that life preserver.”
The searchlights swung out to play on the water around the flare that was attached to the life preserver.
A small boat splashed into the water.
There was the sound of oars and a boat rowed rapidly down the stream, then turned and came back against the current.
A man standing in the bow bent down, searching the water by the aid of a beam from a five cell hand flashlight.
“Let’s get everyone on deck. Find out if anyone’s missing as ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is claiming that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is. Let’s confirm what’s actually happened.”
I turned at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Have you seen anyone else?”
“A man standing in the stern. I take it he was one of the crew.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Al Zohrah Al Bittol significantly, “A woman running down the deck, clad in her night clothes.”
“Do you know her?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah pointed at Al Zohrah Al Bittol.*

Chapter 54
————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

Ved Nagar: 25

Posted: October 29, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, HLMCIC, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, Seven Movements, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Shāhidah Muħammad Ůsmān, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās, Taufīq Fātimah, Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah | 3 Comments

Volume 2

Ved Nagar

Chapter 25

Durgesh Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās
Durgesh Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī
The Yacht

Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed.
“My secretary can take care of it. Why the hell the ever greatest Durgesh is worried of it?”
“Okay. Let’s talk about something else.” I smiled, “Would you care to tell me what figure you received for the movie rights, for instance?”
“The media insists that I got one million dollars cash for you and one million dollars cash for myself too separately.”

I smiled.
“Well, we both know that’s not true. Even the media couldn’t surmise what the exact heavy remuneration we received for the movie rights.”
I entered.
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās squeezed my hardening Uncut Hindu Penis impishly.
“The media surmised but has been bribed to keep mum about the actual figure.”
“By you?”
“Sure, but not directly, through Shankar Mahāpralayankar instead.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās winked at me, “The media could double cross me, but not Shankar Mahāpralayankar.”
I laughed.
“Getting smart, don’t you?”
“The law of mutual inductance is working, Hindu Piyā.” she winked at me.
I squeezed her buttocks.
“What about the royalties?”
“Well,” she said, “royalties from the hard cover edition have been very satisfying, you know. However, the paperback edition that’s coming out is going to be the main source of income. It’s no secret, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt. I have been given a guaranteed royalty for a period of ten years, payable in ten annual installments.”
“You think the book will be selling for ten years?”
“Why not? I think the book will be selling even more. It’s not only a book on sex. I have deliberately studied your writing style and tried my best to imitate you. It’s a book on humanity, Hindu Muslim Unity, Ved Nagar, Parapsychology, Eīshān Vigyān, Para humanity, etcetera.”
“You seem to be quite confident.” I smiled, “Your corrupt politician Musalmān husband, Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī, didn’t feel humiliated? He didn’t object that you have boldly written a book about your extramarital affair with me?”
“We aren’t living in a feudal era anymore.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed, “If he doesn’t approve of my love life with you, he can ask for divorce. What the hell any more can a husband do to his wife on her extramarital affair?”
I watched her.
“Not legally. You are right.”
“Not even illegally. I have eaten milk and rice with Shankar Mahāpralayankar from a common plate. Shankar Mahāpralayankar is now my milk-shared brother. I put even Raxābandhan on Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s wrist. Shankar Mahāpralayankar has warned Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī already. If he doesn’t approve of my extramarital affair with you, Shankar Mahāpralayankar would never mind if he divorces me. But if anything sinister happens to me,Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī will sign his own death warrant thus.”*

I smiled.
“Very smart. I sympathize with poor helpless Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās smiled at me cunningly.
“Planning to write other books?”
“Not so certain, yet.”
“Don’t you want to follow even your such a spectacular success?”
“After a while, perhaps. Nevertheless, you know, people essentially are hypocrites. They love to lecture about morality, but they love to read about immorality.
“An attractive young Musalmān woman writes a story about her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān heroine whose clothes keep coming off. The Musalmān female writer describes the resultant consequences in detail.
“The people are shocked.
“But that’s the point.
“People love to be shocked.”
I didn’t say anything.
Only smiled.
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās kept speaking in the same flow.
She was too enthusiastic now to stop.
In addition, why the hell shouldn’t she?
She married Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī when she was not as capable, as popular, as understanding, as smart and as resourceful, as ingenious, as she was now.
“If someone notices the bestsellers,” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās continued to say, “and bothers to analyze them too carefully, s/he can’t miss to find that most of the sex books written by attractive women…”
“Why?” I interrupted teasing her playfully.
“Well,” she also became mischievous, “Because we women are sexier than you men.”
“Well, our Hindu studies too tally with your realization, but no one would believe you.”
“That’s right. I know it. That’s why I say the people hypocrites. They know so many cold and hard truths, yet they are too hypocrite, are at least too afraid, to accept them to themselves even when they are alone.”
“You are right.” I said gravely.
“Thanks. I was telling you that most of the sex books written by attractive women, whose photographs look very seductive on the dust jackets, are the stories that sell in big figures.
“Women readers love to read about sex more than the male readers, because most of us women are more hypocrites in this matter than you men. Our most hypocrite social system is responsible for it. It requires more morals from women than it requires from you males. You are praised everywhere, envied, and even role modeled, even by movie and television personalities and stars; because you have fucked most of the Beauties exist anywhere anytime, whether they are Musalmān Beauties or otherwise. However, Sidrah Aħmad is termed even a slut by most of the persons for she isn’t a One Man Woman. What a double standard. What a horribly hypocrite society we have.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās spit away in a dustbin.*

I watched her gravely.
Her husband, Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī, was listening to her attentively yet he didn’t want to come to the hall.
He hated both his wife, Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās, and me.
He hated his humiliation very much.
He was himself a man.
He has his own self-respect after all.
Didn’t he?
How the hell could he tolerate his own wife’s extramarital affair with me?
Yet what the hell could he do?
His wife was now smarter, shrewder, more capable, more resourceful, and more prudent and had even too much more money now, still flooding in more and more to her.
He couldn’t win her.
He was left too far behind his wife.
Only because she had a cunt and Durgesh fucked her.
He was a damn male.
He couldn’t get that easy money.

Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī heard.
I was saying.
“Our present society is not actually homogeneous, Tasbīħ. It’s a heterogeneous society. Every Democratic society is bound to be a heterogeneous society.”
“So?”
“We must understand, for our own benefit, that we can’t have a common standard strictly, even if we want to do so. We are bound to have not only double standard but a multi standard society actually, whether we accept it boldly or not.”
“Why?”
“Because we are a Democratic society. We have to respect the standards the other persons have, whether we like them or not. I respect Sidrah Aħmad’s philosophy of life that she is ambitious to have sex with almost every Hindu male, though I’m strictly a man that actually respects and praises One Man Women.”
“Hey, I never knew that. Aren’t Sidrah Aħmad and you close friends, as close as you have sex mutually too?”
“So what? I think, perhaps, I don’t have any woman friend that isn’t as close to me as we have sex mutually. Even the women in my relations, even the Houseladies of my friends and foes have sexual relations with me. So, why not Sidrah Aħmad? What the hell has she done to harm me or other human beings?”
“Your friends don’t hate you that you enjoy sex with their own Houseladies?” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās smiled.
“Some of them do.” I accepted, “Some of them have severed even their friendship with me and they are my worst critics and/or enemies too now. But they are helpless because as soon as they severe their friendship with me, their Houseladies turn also against them, and start ridiculing and humiliating them themselves.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās watched me in an honest and sincere abundant admiration.
“I’ve never met anyone like you Durgesh. You are unique.”
“Thank you.”*

Imām Muħammad Ħasan had also been invited.
It was called a yacht, but actually, it was a large ship having almost every facility, Ved Nagar itself had.
Muħammad bin Qāsim represented Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company there.
The ‘yacht’ glided smoothly up the bay.
The throb of the big Eīshān Vaigyānic motors and the thrust of the propellers gave the sense of grand power underneath.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan realized that Eīshān Vigyān is succeeding largely whether Pseudo Musalmīn liked it or not.
It was succeeding despite a grand hatred of Pseudo Musalmīn.
The Musalmān Beauties were utmost fervent to greet it.
“It guarantees and establishes our own too much required and ever demanded freedom and importance.” Nafīsah Salmān had warned him, “I know you are a great man, but we Musalmān Beauties are getting more from Durgesh and/or other Hindus than you Pseudo Musalmīn can even offer us. Al Qur’an Al Kareem doesn’t say not to marry non-Muslim males. Al Qur’an Al Kareem is never communal. It says only:
‘Wa lā tunkiħū al musharikīn ħattā yu’minū.’
‘And don’t marry polytheistic men to your women until they bring Īmān.’
−Al Qur’an Al Kareem: 2 Al Baqarah| 221
Durgesh is never a polytheist by any damn standard anyone may use, neither the other Vedic Monotheist Hindus are.”
“I agree with you, Nafīsah Salmān, word to word.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the great man of the time, said, “but what the damn difference my agreeing with you makes? Not even the slightest.”
“And you think we Musalmān Beauties should care for it? Have we damn cared ever of Pseudo Musalmīn? Are you suggesting us Musalmān Beauties too to turn communal as the Pseudo Musalmīn, after Yazīd Malåūn, turned in a hateful large number? We fought with the damn Yazīd Malåūnists ever and we would still continue our Jihad against them. If the Pseudo Musalmīn have surrendered to Yazīd Malåūn forever, damn them. We would keep fighting against Pseudo Musalmīn too with Durgesh and/or other Vedic Monotheist Hindus, with us. That’s what our daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, is proposing as Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. What the hell else she is doing?”*

The teakwood decks, mahogany trim and comfortable deck chairs gave the passengers a sense of luxury, a quite enjoyment of the good things of life.
As Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī let me pilot around to meet the various guests, the lady lawyer realized that the multi zillionaire could hardly have selected a more propitious, a more favorable, occasion for compromising a potential lawsuit with Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
Most of the guests knew the ship, or yacht, whatsoever the guests wanted to call it, was actually a personal gift to me from Dévarshi Sadan of HVSI.
Brahmarshi Sadan of HVSI had gifted me a personal spaceship.
Maharshi sadan of HVSI had gifted me a personal latest hover HVSI limousine.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
She knew the gifts were actually the exhibition of the Eīshān Vaigyānic, scientific, and financial power HVSI Group of Companies possessed globally today.
The personal gifts to the Chairman indicated the power the HVSI Group of Companies enjoyed now.
She had tried her best to convince her younger brother, Muħammad bin Qāsim, not to fight with HVSI Group of Companies.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was furious.
“HVSI Group of Companies is supporting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan blindly.”
“Oh, you don’t approve of it?”
“Her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, doesn’t approve of her proposed Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“She is now the new Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“I know. Moreover, I know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is after either purchasing the oil island or taking it on lease too as she has leased nine islands already.”
“For her Seven Movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī reminded him.
“She is establishing her damn Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah there.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted, “Can’t you see?”*

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī understood very well.
I not only did the environment make for friendly good feeling, but in the background, there was always a suggestion of financial power on my part sophisticatedly, yet ingeniously.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī acknowledged Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and Muħammad Ůsmān.
The fact that Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī wasn’t only related to the Al Muħammad Al Qāsim family, being an elder sister of Muħammad bin Qāsim, but she was even representing Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company legally, had brought a glimpse of latent hostility in Muħammad Ůsmān’s eyes.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī noted it and smiled.
The damn fool didn’t deserve to lead any Company whatsoever.
He was unable to hide his inner emotions, even courteously.
How could the stupid survive in the corporate world of constant nonstop business strategies and Diplomacy?
Muħammad Ůsmān, evidently, didn’t relish the idea of having lawyers checking on him.
I had gone the limit to have everyone aboard who was at all interested, even to Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah and her daughter, Shāhidah Muħammad Ůsmān.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was bubbling with youth and vigor, for a change.
Everyone who knew him, had never seen Muħammad bin Qāsim, in such a happy mood.
He was actually an incurable pessimistic.
It was really a surprise that he was bubbling with happiness, now.
Taufīq Fātimah, Muħammad bin Qāsim’s dynamic Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, met with me with even more bubbling youth and bliss, her husband was bubbling with.
She was twenty-eight, PhD, and definitely a lot smarter than Muħammad bin Qāsim was.
It was more than evident, Taufīq Fātimah married Muħammad bin Qāsim for his money, rather than for anything else.
She had golden hair, gray blue eyes and a friendly unspoiled manner.
I saw that cocktails were served.
“No business of any kind, please,” I smiled the warning, “Not until after dinner, if the honorable guests don’t mind. Then all of us concerned will sit down at the big table and discuss the matter in a friendly environment. No bitterness, however. I warn everyone. We are educated persons and we should act and behave mutually in a civilized manner. Any uncivilized act from anyone may cause him/her a great trouble, I warn everyone, please. It’s the first and last warning, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s hope I would have nothing to cause you trouble, because if I would have to, it would make the concerned person wish to die instead. Sorry for the hard talk, but it was necessary to warn you for once and all. Now, let’s relax and enjoy. My staff will take care of you all. Please don’t hesitate to tell them for anything you need. You are honorable guests of the Chairman of HVSI Group of Companies. Enjoy it optimum, please.”
I took them around on a tour of the yacht, showing them the various staterooms, mechanical gadgets and lounging rooms.*

I moved over to stand at the rail ultimately some time later.
I let the brisk breeze tingle me into a feeling of physical well-being.
We had left the bay behind and were now within the confines of the river.
The banks were less than a mile apart.
The pilot was guiding the ship between spar buoys that marked a rather treacherous channel.
The ship was moving forward at half-speed skimming through the water as smoothly as a game fish in a cool pool.
The day had been hot, dry, and cloudless.
Now, it was pleasant hot, not a scorching one.
Neither it was cold now.
The sky above was still a clear, deep blue.
I heard motion behind.
Then Muħammad bin Qāsim’s voice said.
“Jījū, you alone? What a miracle.”
I smiled.
“What do you mean, Sālé?”
“Not even a single sister of my infinite ones, is interested in you now. Isn’t it amazing?”
“You requested me to meet you here alone.”
“That’s right.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said gravely now, “Jījū, I think someone is trying to poison me, and deliberately trying to implicate and frame Taufīq Fātimah.”
“Yes, I myself suspect it.”
“Has Taufīq Fātimah talked with you about it?” Muħammad bin Qāsim asked me enthusiastically.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim, we only tease each other. We don’t have any extramarital affair mutually.”
“Well, I’ve seen her grabbing your Uncut Hindu Penis and you playing with her boobs and buttocks.”
“She is a successful Hollywood heroine, isn’t she?”
“She says she has done some porn movies with you.”
“And you believe her?” I laughed, “Idiot, she is either only teasing you or boasting.”
“You haven’t fucked her?”
“If you really care about these things, why the hell you married a Hollywood Star?”
“Well,” Muħammad bin Qāsim hesitated.
“What?”
“You’ll laugh at me.”
“As if you care.”
“Yes, I do. I respect you, Jījū, very much. They call you ‘Nīlkanŧh’. I think it’s true. It needs too much manly vigor and indisputable bravery to give a chance to the women who have gone off track, either due to this way or due to that way.”
“It’s a drastic change in you, Muħammad bin Qāsim. Congratulations. Now, I think I should myself respect you.” I smiled at him appreciatively.
“You don’t need to. Instead, I need your help.”
“Yes?”
“Someone is trying his/her best to poison me and implicate, frame, Taufīq Fātimah.”
I watched him.
“You suspect anyone.”
“I’m not actually a real son of my present Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. I am an adopted son.”
“I know.”
“I am actually his cousin’s son. My real Abbū expired and my Ammī married my elder uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
“I know that too.” I said patiently.
“I suspect some of my legal sisters now; my real cousins however, don’t like the idea of sharing their father’s property with me.”
“I see.”
“Keep this information to yourself, please. Abbū and Ammī, if they knew it ever, would be immensely depressed of my nudist feminist legal sisters/ real cousins.”
“Don’t worry.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim extended his hand to me.
He held a sealed envelope in him.
“This is my affidavit stating that ‘if something happens to me ever, due to poison or otherwise, and it appears that my wife Taufīq Fātimah is involved, it’s only because she is framed up. I am dead sure that my wife, Taufīq Fātimah, isn’t responsible in any manner for my death.’ Would you assure me to protect Taufīq Fātimah if I die?”

Chapter 26
——————————————————-

Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā-10

Posted: October 7, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat, Uncategorized | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Creative adult sex in Hindi, Creative adult sex in Urdu, Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jabeen Kħān, Jannat-e- Firdaus, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħālidah Kħān, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Naziya Khan, Seven Movements, Shabnam Kħān, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Shoeb Kħān, Shāheen Khan, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Zohrah Khan, Ħayā Ħayāt | 2 Comments

Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā
Tujhé Chodā Mainé

Aur chodtā rahūn tujhé hai bas yehī duā

‘The fifteen days of intense sex, love and lust’

Durgesh Shabnam Kħān
Durgesh Nāziyah Kħān
Durgesh Zohrah Kħān

Chapter 10

Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān donon pāglon kī taraħ kħushī sé chīkħtī huī apnī Ammī kī taraf lapkīn.
Donon mein sé kisī ko bhī kħwāb mein bhī yah ummīd nahīn thī ki Ammījān is taraħ unsé khulkar baat karéngī.
“Tab to tum bhī sharm karo. Main Durgesh sé tum sé bhī pahlé sé chudvā rahī hūn.”
Donon béŧiyon ko abhī tak yaqīn nahīn ho rahā thā ki jo kuchh unhoné abhī kħud apné kānon sé sunā aur kħud apnī ānkhon sé dékhā thā, kya voh ħaqīqat thī?
Ammījān ne kyā vāqaåī unké sāmné yah ħaqīqat taslīm kī thī ki voh Nāziyah Kħān sé bhī pahlé sé Durgesh sé chudvā rahī hain?
Kyā vāqaåī voh tīnon Ammī béŧiyān Chudāī kī itnī shauqīn hain ki aaj unké bīch aapas mein is måmlé mein koī sharmo ħayā bhī nahīn rahī?
Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān donon Shabnam Kħān sé burī taraħ kichkichākar lipaŧ gaīn.
Shabnam Kħān ne bhī tamām sharmo ħayā chhođkar un donon ko apné kaléjé sé lagā liyā.
Ab yah zarūrī ho gayā thā.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ab chāhtī thī ki tīnon Ammī béŧiyān khulkar sāmné aa jāyén aur Ashvinātam Ummat-e–Muslimah ké qyāam mein khulkar sāton taħrīkāt mein pakistanī Musalmān ħasīnāon kī rahnumāī karén.
Yah koī chhoŧī moŧī péshkash nahīn thī.
Bahut bađī péshkash thī.
Lifetime chance thā.*

Na Shabnam Kħān yah ħaqīqat taslīm karné ko taiyār thī, na Nāziyah Kħān aur na hī Zohrah Kħān ki mérī ħaqīqī ůmr is vaqt 63 saal ho chukī hai.
Main taintīs saal kā sirf dikhāī détā hūn, hūn nahīn.
Shabnam Kħān ko is par béħad naaz thā ki pooré 45 saal kī ho jaané par bhī voh 30 saal sé zyādah kī nazar hī nahīn aatī thī.
Jabki khud Zohrah Kħān 23 saal kī ho chukī thī aur Nāziyah Kħān 21 saal kī.
Nihāyat hī aħsānmandānā andāz mein apné donon goré nangé ħasīn kūlhé mérī sarvathā nagn Hindu goad mein samā diyé Shabnam Kħān né aur mera samūchā Uncut Hindu Lund poorā jađ tak apnī gorī dilkash Pakistani Musalmān Choot ké andar habak liyā.
Béħad kħush thī aaj Shabnam Kħān.
Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club mein stage par aaj voh pahlī martabah mujhsé sab ké sāmné chudvā rahī thī.
Uske ek taraf Zohrah Kħān thī aur doosrī taraf Nāziyah Kħān.
Durgesh aaj tamām kurra-e-zamīn kā sabsé muåzziz aur sabsé zyādah daulatmand shakħs taslīm kiyā ja chuka thā.
Aaj har ħasīn åurat Durgesh sé chudvāné ké liyé marī jātī thī aur har shakħs Durgesh ké talvé chāŧnā apnī sabsé bađī kħushqismatī samajhtā thā.
Sirf chand sarphiré Musalmān ħāsidīn ko chhođkar.

Aesé sarphiré Musalmīn kā dåvā thā ki Shankar Mahāpralayankar mérā sālā thā aur voh is vaqt kā sabsé bađā aur sabsé zyādah kāmyāb smuggler thā.
Yahan tak ki tamām Musalmān aur ghair Muslim smugglers darħaqīqat Shankar Mahāpralayankar ké liyé hī kaam karté thé.
Kyā sabūt thā is baat kā, ki jis taraħ baqiyah smugglers darħaqīqat Shankar Mahāpralayankar ké liyé kaam karté thé, Shankar Mahāpralayankar bhī darħaqīqat mere liyé hī kaam nahīn kartā thā?
Main press conference kar rahā thā.
Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club mein yah special Press Conference khud Press kī request par kī jā rahī thī.
“Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Waves kā āvishkār kyā aap né hī kiyā hai?” Binnāt-e-Islam kī reporter Ħayā Ħayāt ne sawāl kiyā.
“I’m sorry that I have to correct you, ma’am,” main muskurāyā, “in waves kā official name voh nahīn hai, jo abhī aap ne bayān farmāyā. Inka aslī naam Param Purush Ummmihātul Åālmīn Waves hai.”

Ħayā Ħayāt nihāyat hī dilkash andāz mein muskurāī,
“Lékin is Ījād mein aap kī Chief Assistant Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ aur aapkī Press Secretary Muħtarmā Kħātūn-e- Jannat Ħazrat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Sāħibah to jab bhī in waves kā zikr kartī hain, inhén Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Waves hī kahā kartī hain.”
“Yah naam mérī Chief Assistant Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ aur mérī Press Secretary Muħtarmā Kħātūn-e- Jannat Ħazrat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Sāħibah donon ko aur aap Press wālon ko zyādah pasand hai. Kyon pasand hai iskā kħulāsah to Baharħāl aap Ħazrāt hī zyādah bahtar taraħ sé kar saktī hain. Main iské mutålliq kyā årz kar saktā hūn?”

Ħayā Ħayāt phir muskurāī.
“Aap kī zyādahtar Ījādāt ké implementation mein Hindu Lund aur Muslim Chooton kā iståmāl hī zyādah sé zyādah huā kartā hai. Press iski wajah jān saktā hai?”
“Sure. Iskī wajah hai, availability aur competence.”
“Allah,” Ħayā Ħayāt hansī, “aap phir ek martabah apnī vahī purānī baat dohrā rahé hain, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, ki scientifically sirf Hindu Lund Muslim Choot hī most competent aur perfect jođī hai. Isn’t it?”
“Tantr yahī manta hai. Is āvishkār kā sambandh Tantr sé hai. Aur vaisé bhī itihās is baat kā gawāh hai ki scientifically sirf Hindu Lund Muslim Choot hī most competent aur perfect jođī hai.”
“Lékin iské bāwajūd aesā anékon martabah ho chuka hai ki jab koī naī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theory implementation ké liyé aap ké sāmné pésh kī jātī hai, aap us Musalmān lađkī ko chodné sé inkār kar dete hain jo is tajurbé ké liyé aap ko pésh kī jātī hai.” ek mardānah āwāz aaī.
Āwāz pīchhé sé aaī thī.
Sabkī nigāhén qudratī taur par yah dékhné ké liyé pīchhé kī taraf ghūm gaīn ki yah baat ākħir kahī kisné thī.
Voh koī aŧŧhāis saal kā ek nihāyat hī dublā patlā chashmādhārī yuvak thā.
Uskī ānkhon mein téj thā aur chéhré par buddhimattā kī chap thī.
“Aap sirf apnī manpasand Musalmān Chooton kā hī iståmāl apné tajurbāt ké liyé kiyā karté hain. Doosron kī tajvījkardah Musalmān Chooton kā iståmāl karné kā risk aap kabhī nahīn uŧhāté. Aap kā yah aħtiyāt sābit kartā hai ki aap kī Ījādāt personality oriented hain. Immune to particular persons nahīn hain. Yånī voh har zamāné aur har jagah sach hon, yah zarūrī nahīn hai.”
Hall mein sannāŧā chhā gayā.*

Shabnam Kħān ghussé sé bolī,
“Yah mardūd apnī Musalmān bahanon, Musalmān béŧiyon, Musalmān bīviyon, aur apnī Musalmān girlfriends ko tum par thopnā chāhtā hai, tāki jab tum unko chodté hué kisī ījād mein kāmyāb ho’o, to voh tumhāré aglé tajurbāt ké lye tumhén blackmail kar saké.”
Nāziyah Kħān né apnī Ammī ko rokā,
“Ammī, yah Durgesh kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories kī baat nahīn kar rahā. Isné Durgesh kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories par apnī kħud kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories develop kī hain aur yah chāhtā hai ki Durgesh iskī un Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories par iskī tajvījkardah Musalmān ħasīnāon ko chodté hué kaam karé.”
Zohrah Kħān né bhī apnī chhoŧī bahan kā samarthan kiyā.
“Nāziyah ŧhīk kah rahī hai, Ammī.”
“Tum donon jāntī ho is lađké ko?” Shabnam Kħān né pūchhā.
“Kaun nahīn jāntā? Yah Muħammad bin Qāsim hai. Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company ké managing director Al Muħammad Al Qāsim kā iklautā béŧā. Yah apnī Musalmān girlfriends ko Durgesh sé chudvānā chāhtā hai. Durgesh iskī bahnon Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī aur Al Zakāt Al Qāsim kā boyfriend/live in relationship partner hai. Iskī Musalmān girlfriends is ħaqīqat kā fāydah uŧhākar Durgesh sé chudvānā chāhtī hain. Båqī sab sirf bahānā hai.” Nāziyah Kħān sard lahjé mein bolī.*

Shabnam Kħān ne apné donon nangé goré sudaul bhārī Musalmān kūlhé phir sé ŧhīk sé kaskar mérī sarvathā nagn Hindu purush goad mein samāyé, mérā burī taraħ ŧhanŧhanā rha Uncut Hindu Lund phir sé jađ tak apnī Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān Choot ké andar habkā aur haulé sé muskurā dī.
Ved Nagar!
The dream city.
Jahān voh khulkar stage par Durgesh sé chudvā rahī hai aur sab is par usko appreciate kar rahé hain, koī uskī mazammat nahīn kar rahā.
Isīliyé to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sé yah samjhautā kiyā thā Shabnam Kħān né.
Apnī bépanāh Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān Jawānī, apné bépanāh Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān ħusn, par itnā zyādah naaz thā Shabnam Kħān ko ki voh usé tamām kāynāt-e-kul mein khulkar nangī ghūm ghūm kar har kisī ko dikhānā chāhtī thī, har kisī par is måmlé mein apnī bartarī sābit karné ké liyé.
Isī silsilé mein Shabnam Kħān kī mulāqāt ek nude beach mein pahlé Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sé aur phir Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ké zariyé mujhsé huī thī.*

Jabīn Kħān bhī apnī bađī bahan, Shabnam Kħān, sé kuchh kam kħūbsūrat nahīn thī, lékin Jabīn Kħān Shabnam Kħān kī taraħ nudist nahīn thī.
Shabnam Kħān kī taraħ nude beach mein nangī ghūmnā na Jabīn Kħān ko pasand thā, na hī Shoeb Kħān ko.
Lékin Shabnam Kħān ké sāth nude beach par nangī ghūmné ké liyé inkār karnā bhī Jabīn Kħān ko pasand nahīn thā.
Shoeb Kħān né hanskar kahā thā,
“Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, ab béchāré Shoeb Kħān kī kħair nahīn.”
Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah muskurākar bolī thien,
“Aapko bhī na, har vaqt mazāq sūjhtā rahtā hai.”
“Wallah, Sarkār, kħādim kī jurrat nahīn ho saktī apnī Rabb-e-ħayāt sé mazāq kar sakné kī.”
“Aré, kyon gunahgār banā rahé hain laundī ko apnī Rabb-e-ħayāt kahkar? Main sirf sharīk-e-ħayāt hūn aapkī. Rabb-e-ħayāt to har kisī kā sirf Mālik-e-yaumuddīn hai.”
“Bajā farmāyā aapné.” Shoeb Kħān né ek gahrī sāns lī, “lékin Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, aap ké is tābédār ko is baat kā afsos zarūr rahégā ki ab aap hamārī sharīk-e-ħayāt bhī nahīn rahīn poorī taraħ.”
“Kyā matlab?”
“Mainé kħud apné pairon par kulhāđī maar lī. Kħud yah ħaq dé diyā aapko ki jākar Durgesh kā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađ lén.”
Jabīn Kħān muskurā dīn,
“Voh to hai. Hamāré Hindu dāmād Sāħab kā Uncut Hindu Lund hai to vāqaåī unique aur legendary.”
Shoeb Kħān kā chéhrā utar gayā.
“Pasand āyā na āpko?”
“Béħad. Sach kahūn? Main to hamāré Hindu dāmād Sāħab, Durgesh, ké Uncut Hindu Lund par usī vaqt mar miŧī thī jab mainé Shāhīn ko pahlī martabah Durgesh sé chudvāté dékhā thā.”*

Apnī béŧī ko mujhsé chudvāté pahlī martabah jab Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, Jabīn Kħān, né dékhā thā, to Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah ké ‘kħādim’, Shoeb Kħān, bhī apnī ‘Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah’ ké sāth thé.
Ék martabah phir poorī koshish kī thī Jabīn Kħān né unkī cut Musalmān nūnī khađī karné kī.
Aur ék martabah phir voh burī taraħ nākām rahī thien.
Shoeb Kħān ko kabhī sex sé bahut zyādah dilchaspī rahī ho, aesā to kħair, kabhī bhī nahīn thā.
Jabīn Kħān né kabhī kahā nahīn thā apné munh sé, lékin sach yah thā ki apné az-e-ħad shāistah Musalmān shauhar sé Jabīn Kħān burī taraħ paréshān thien.
Hazāron martabah taraħ taraħ sé darkħvāst karné par bhī Shoeb Kħān né Jabīn Kħān ko kabhī roshnī mein nahīn chodā thā.
Aaj unkī béŧī, Shāhīn Kħān, din kī bharpūr roshnī mein Durgesh sé chudvā rahī thī.
Kaisī åjīb baat thī!
Yah ‘Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah’, Jabīn Kħān kī zindagī kā pahlā lund thā jisé voh pratyax dékh rahī thien.
Apné shauhar kī cut Musalmān nūnī tak nahīn dékhī thī Jabīn Kħān né pratyaxtah kabhī iské pahlé.
Shoeb Kħān né unhén jab bhī chodā thā, tārīkī mein hī chodā thā.
To aesā hotā hai lund darasal?
Jabīn Kħān ħairān thien ki unhén kħud apnī hī béŧī kī kħushqismatī sé rashk ho rahā thā.
Bahut sharm aa rahī thī Jabīn Kħān ko is baat par ki unkā rom rom yah chāh rahā thā, kaash, Shāhīn Kħān kī jagah voh kħud hotīn.
Allah, no!
Durgesh unkā dāmād hai.
Kaisé soch saktī hain Jabīn Kħān ki voh kħud apnī béŧī kī saut ban jāyén?
Satīsh né kitnā bađā dhokah diyā thā Shāhīn Kħān ko.
Aur ab jab Shāhīn Kħān is sadmé sé bāhar nikāl pāī hai to Jabīn Kħān kħud…
Hargiz nahīn.
Qayāmat tak hargiz nahīn.*

Call Bell ké jawāb mein kħud Kħālidah Kħān né darwāzah kholā.
Ék bār phir mujhé lagā ki voh Kħālidah Kħān nahīn thī.
Kħud uskī juđwān bahan Jabīn Kħān hī thien.
Léshmātr bhī to farq nahīn thā tīnon bahnon mein.
Shabnam Kħān, Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān tīnon hamshakl thien.
Shabnam Kħān 45 saal kī thī lékin tīs sé zyādah kī hargiz nazar nahīn ātī thī.
Log Shabnam Kħān ko Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān kī bađī bahan samajhté thé, Ammī nahīn.
Yahī ħālat Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān kī bhī thī.
35 saal kī thien Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān donon, lékin un donon ko bhī koī tīs sé zyādah kī hargiz nahīn kah saktā thā.
Mérā apnā anubhav, mérā apnā tajurbah, is måmlé mein yah thā ki aksar Musalmān ħasīnāyén is måmlé mein kuchh zyādah hī kħushqismat hotī thien.
Unkā dåvā thā ki iskī wajah unkā Panjvaqtah Namāzī aur burqah pahanné wālī honā thā.

Kħālidah Kħān Crime Prevention ké apné mission ké ħawālé junūn kī taraħ thī.
Har voh shakħs jo corrupt thā, chāhé voh sarkārī ho, ardh-sarkārī yā phir ghair-sarkārī, Kħālidah Kħān kā shikār thā.
Yah sirf mérā hī nahīn, bahut sāré patrkāron kā bhī andāzah thā ki Kħālidah Kħān naam kī koī åurat kahīn thī hī nahīn.
Crime Prevention ké apné nihāyat hī kħatarnāk junūn kī wajah sé Jabīn Kħān hī Kħālidah Kħān ké pen name sé wahān Kħālidah Kħān bankar rah rahī thī.

Kħālidah Kħān/Jabīn Kħān né mujhé drawing room mein biŧhālā.
Tīn bedroom thé us flat mein.
Kħālidah Kħān/Jabīn Kħān né apné bedroom ké bāzū wālé bedroom ko apnā office banā rakhā thā.
Aesā Kħālidah Kħān né kyon kar rakhā thā, yah mujhé nahīn målūm thā.
Voh us poorī ĭmārat kī mālkin thī, kirāyédār nahīn.
Kahīn bhī apnā office banā saktī thī.
Baghal ké flat mein Kħālidah Kħān kī secretary, Jannat-e- Firdaus rahtī thī.

Kħālidah Kħān kī apnī website thī jis par Kħālidah Kħān har mahīné do baar, har pakhwāđé, aisé logon kī Black List jārī kartī thī jo uskī taftīsh ké mutābiq corrupt hoté thé.
Sabhī sambandhit vibhāgon aur officials sé Kħālidah Kħān kā yah anurodh bhī us website mein hotā thā ki voh aisé logon ko investigate karén aur agar jo kuchh Kħālidah Kħān né unké kħilāf apnī website par likhā thā, usko sach pāyén to unké kħilāf case chalāyén.

Kħālidah Kħān kī taraf muskurā kar dékhā mainé.
“Kaisé yād kiyā mérī sarkār?”
“Kyā kaisé yād kiyā?” Kħālidah Kħān shikāyat bharī āwāz mein bolī, “kabhī milté hī nahīn ho, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam?”
“Jo kah rahī ho, soch samajh kar kah rahī ho, yā yūn hī apnī zabān ko dhār dé rahī ho?”
“Tumhārā kyā kħayāl hai, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt?” Kħālidah Kħān lagāwaŧ bharī, mastī bharī āwāz mein bolī.
“Mérā kħayāl hai ki dhār hī dé rahī ho tum apnī zabān ko.”
“Allah ré badqismatī.” Kħālidah Kħān né ék ŧhandī sāns lī.
“Sālī, yā to main sachmuch hī tum Musalmān ħasīnāon kā Hindu Kħasam nahīn hūn, yā phir tū Musalmān nahīn hai.”
“Donon bātén hain, Kħasam, donon bātén hain.” Kħālidah Kħān né ék sard aah bharī, “tum hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam bhī ho, aur main Musalmān bhī hūn. Lékin main ék måmūlī Musalmān åurat hūn, koī Musalmān ħasīnah vasīnah nahīn hūn. Hotī to tumhārī donon jānghon ké darmyān mujhé Mukesh Ambani kā residential house na dikhāī dé rahā hotā, jo Jabīn Kħān ko dékhté hī fauran wajūd mein aa jātā hai tumhārī donon ŧāngon ké darmyān.”
“Utnī dūr sé kyā dékh pāyégī ki kaisī krānti ho rahī hai yahān? Yahān aa kar mérī goad mein baiŧhkar dékh téré swāgat kā yahān kaisā shāndār intejām hai.”
Kħālidah Kħān nihāyat hī makkārī ké sāth muskurāī.
“Yånī haméshah kī taraħ aaj bhī yah faislah nahīn kar pā rahé ho, ki main Kħālidah Kħān hūn, yā Jabīn Kħān. Agar main tumhārī dåvat par vāqaåī tumhārī goad mein aa kar baiŧh gaī, to main Kħālidah Kħān, varnā Jabīn Kħān, no?”*

Main us kambakħt ko ānkh marker muskurāyā.
“Samajhdār to ho tum abhī bahnén.”
Voh bhī jawāb mein mujhé ānkh marker muskurāī.
“Koī aur tarīqā nikālo hum donon juđwān bahnon ko alag alag pahchān sakné kā. Yah tarīqā ab purānā ho chukā. Ab Jabīn Kħān bhī baiŧh saktī hai tumhārī goad mein.”
“Nonsense.”
“Mat māno. Lékin ħaqīqat yah hai ki Jabīn Kħān kī zindagī mein bhī is darmyān ék inqalāb aa chukā hai. Shoeb Kħān Bhāījān kā ab Jabīn Kħān kī tamām koshishon ké bāwajūd hargiz khađā nahīn hotā.”
“What?”
“Chaunk gayé na?” Voh mujhé phir ānkh marker muskurāī, “Tumné kabhī kħwāb mein bhī nahīn sochā hogā ki kħud Jabīn Kħān bhī tumsé chudvā saktī hai, aur voh bhī pāglon kī taraħ, jitnā tum chāho utnā, jab tak tum chāho, tab tak.”*

Main talkħ lahjé mein bolā,
“Sālī, bol to aésé rahī hai jaisé kħud shabo roz, raat din sé, aharnish, nonstop day and night mujhsé chudvātī rahtī ho, aur main hī tujhé chodné sé katrāyā kartā hoūn.”
“Bilkul ŧhīk.”
“Kyā matlab?”
“Aré, main to kab sé tumsé chudvāné ké liyé tađap rahī hūn. Lékin tum ho ki kabhī mujhé apnā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađné tak nahīn dété.”
“Shut up, Sālī, jhūŧhī. Kħūb munh kī pakpak karné lagī hai. Aa aakar mérī goad mein baiŧh.”
Usné sharārat sé apnā nichlā honŧh chubhlāyā,
“Soch lo. Sachmuch aakar baiŧh gaī to phir kħūb jī bharkar chudvāyé baghair main nahīn uŧhné wālī. Aur phir na kahnā ki main lāintehā pyāsī thī. Mujhé mere shauhar sé alahdah hué ‘ék zamānā beet gayā’.”
Yah ākħirī fiqrah Kħālidah Kħān né ék tarannum mein kahā thā.
“You are Jabīn Kħān.” main hanstā huā bolā, “tum sirf zabānī smart talk sé kaam chalā rahī ho. Kħālidah Kħān hotīn to mérī itnī dåvat par kabhī kī aakar mérī goad mein baiŧh chukī hotīn.”
“Achchhā? Kħālidah Kħān kyā shabo roz baiŧhī rahtī hai tumhārī goad mein?”
“Sālī ék baar bhī nahīn baiŧhī abhī tak mérī goad mein. Eīshān!Eīshān! kin purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuraton ké bīch phans gayā hai yah Hindu Sambhog Samrāŧ, yah Hindu Chudāī Samrāŧ. Sāliyon ko koī qadr hī nahīn hai is baat kī ki mérā Uncut Hindu Lund kab sé khađā ho kar burī taraħ ŧhanŧhanā rahā hai.”
“What do you mean ‘purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuratén?” Kħālidah Kħān kichkichākar bolī, “Main to is baat kā lihāj kar rahī thī ki tum mérī niece Shāhīn Kħān ké boyfriend ho. ‘purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuratén? Tumhārī to main…ab tumhāré Uncut Hindu Lund kī kħair nahīn. Samjhé? Ék baar ghuséđā to nikālné nahīn dūngī qayāmat tak. Chalo, aa jāo maidān mein.”
Kħālidah Kħān dhamm sé mérī goad mein aa baiŧhī.*

Main uskī is sarvathā apratyāshit ħarkat ké liyé léshmātr bhī taiyār nahīn thā.
Mujhé poorā yaqīn thā ki voh Jabīn Kħān hī hai.
Kħālidah Kħān kā koī wajūd nahīn hai.
Jabīn Kħān hī Kħālidah Kħān bankar double role kar rahī hai.
Isliyé main Jabīn Kħān ko chāhé kitnā hī kyon na uksāūn, voh baharħāl mérī goad mein aakar baiŧhné wālī nahīn hai.
Mérī tamām theory rakhī rah gaī thī aur Jabīn Kħān goad mein aa baiŧhī thī.
Agar voh vāqaåī Jabīn Kħān thī to.
Mérī Hindu purush goad burī taraħ jhulas uŧhī thī.
Jabīn Kħān ké sudaul Musalmān kūlhé mérī Hindu purush goad mein burī taraħ kaskar samā gayé thé.
Voh is taraħ burī taraħ kaskar fit baiŧh gayé thé mérī Hindu purush goad mein jaisé voh kħās taur par mérī Hindu purush goad kā sānchā lékar vahīn samāné ké liyé banāyé gayé hon.
Kitnā perfect size thā unkā.
Tabhī is baat kā ék aur sabūt ħāsil huā mujhé ki mérī goad mein is vaqt Jabīn Kħān hī baiŧhī huī thien, koī Kħālidah Kħān nahīn.
Mérā unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund Jabīn Kħān ké hasīn Musalmān kūlhon ké bīch hī samāyā huā burī taraħ phanphanā rahā thā, kisī Kħālidah Kħān ké kūlhon ké bīch nahīn.
Kħālidah Kħān aur uskī secretary, Jannat-e- Firdaus, ké flats ko bīch sé jođné wālā darwāzah khulā thā aur Jannat-e- Firdaus wahān sé andar dākħil huī thī.

Chapter 11
———————————————————

Ved Nagar: 17

Posted: October 1, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Akbar, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Dr. Raziyah Siddīqī, Durgesh, Feminism, Hudā, Imrān Hāshmī, Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar, life sciences, Mughal-e-Åāzam, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Åbdullah, Muħammad Ibrāhīm, Noor Islam, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Pratāp Bachhalyā, Rukħsānah Firdaus, Rājesh Rājpūt, Shakīlah Sultān, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex | 2 Comments

Volume 2

Ved Nagar

Chapter 17

Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī
Durgesh Shakīlah Sultān
Durgesh Rukħsānah Firdaus

Al Safiyah Al Ghaus couldn’t control herself any more.
“That’s the problem.” she fired her husband.
The ever-incompetent idiot.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled patronizingly.
“What’s the problem?”
“That I married you.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus blurted out. “Shame on you. You can’t fuck your own wife.”
“What the hell you mean? I haven’t fucked you ever? You are a virgin still now?”
“Thank you very much.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said tartly, “And for your kind information, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, I was a widow in Las Vegas, Nevada, when you proposed me. I wasn’t a virgin even then.”
Pratāp Bachhalyā interfered,
“Well, well, well, Bhābhījān, Bhāījān, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and Durgesh have come here for a definite purpose.”
“Damned if you aren’t right.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs grabbed the opportunity.
It was troublesome for Al Nadīm Al Quddūs that he had to watch his own sisters being fucked so thoroughly by three Hindus.
Allah!
Allah!!
Damn Hindus and their Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog.
No problem yoga was being appreciated now throughout the globe.
But Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog!
Allah Allah!
“Just what do you want, Hindu Al Buůūlat ul Muslimāt?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked me.
Pratāp Bachhalyā squirmed fucking his extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim.
“Just a minute, Bhāījān. We unanimously decided that Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān would talk with Durgesh on our behalf. Didn’t we?”*

Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled.
“Then why the hell have we called our lawyer, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī Bājī?”
“It’s alright, Al Nadīm.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī cooed. My Uncut Hindu Penis was still wildly visiting her ever-tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt. “I can understand. Pratāp has his faith more in Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān, than in me. I’m still here. Let Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān talk with Durgesh on Pratāp Bachhalyā’s behalf at least.”
“Well,” Vikram Bachhalyā said, “I can’t help that my wife, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Pratāp’s wife, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, still have faith in Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī Bājī. I don’t. Pratāp is right. Almost every woman of Durgesh shamelessly says:
‘Once with Durgesh,
all the rest is trash.’
Don’t they?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed.
“I don’t blame you, Vikram Bachhalyā. My sister, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim was never as money minded as she is now.”
“What do you mean?” Vikram Bachhalyā asked curtly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus prudently avoided the hostility being developed more and more among her sisters and their Bachhalyā Hindu husbands.
In Ved Nagar, despite every effort from me and other Dvij Hindus, the Bachhalyās were still becoming a dominant influencing force now.
The Brāhm Sampradāý, the Brāhm denomination of Hinduism, had opted for the Bachhalyās’ leadership of them.
“Just what do you want Durgesh, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus asked me shrewdly.
“Well,” I said, “I’ve come here as a lawyer representing a client that has an interest adverse to you.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd?”
“I can’t disclose my client’s name without his express permission.”
“His? Or ‘her’?”
“That’s also a part of privileged communication between a client and a lawyer.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at me patiently.
“Imrān Hāshmī is dead. I want to ask you about circumstances that may have led to his death or…”
“Imrān Hāshmī is dead?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked with cold disbelief, “Well, wasn’t he the husband of Dr. Raziyah Siddīqī?”
“That’s right.” I replied Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“He can’t be dead.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly, “It would greatly embarrass us. Are you certain of your facts, Jījū?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs regarded me as though he expected me to wither, to weaken, and crawl under the table under the impact of his disapproving stare.
I winked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs immediately avoided meeting my eyes.
He looked elsewhere immediately.
Damn the Hindu scoundrel.
The ever-confident rascal.
If only the womankind never supported Durgesh…
“Imrān Hāshmī is quite thoroughly dead. Someone fucked Imrān Hāshmī in his ass and then stabbed him.”
“I never knew Imrān Hāshmī was a gay.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said angrily.
“He never told you?” I asked him feigning surprise, “Perhaps he didn’t know every gay has informed you already that he is a gay. Imrān Hāshmī should also have done the same.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at me irritably.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Al Nadīm,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus admonished her husband coldly, “Durgesh never said Imrān Hāshmī was a gay.”
“The hell Durgesh didn’t. He said Imrān Hāshmī was fucked in his ass, didn’t he?”
“It doesn’t necessarily mean Imrān Hāshmī was a gay. It may also be that Imrān Hāshmī was raped.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar? Rājesh Rājpūt?”*

Al Safiyah Al Ghaus again admonished her husband.
“The trouble with you, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, is that you believe on publicity more than your own investigation.”
“What do you mean?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs retorted.
He never liked that a woman, however intelligent she might be, would dominate him ever.
He felt his maleness hurt.
He was unable to understand that wisdom and prudence dominates, not maleness or femaleness.
Musalmān Beauties were prudent enough to understand the ultimate success of Hindu males.
They have successfully established the ever-miraculous global city, Ved Nagar.
Today Musalmān Beauties were ruling on Ved Nagar after Hindus.
Why?
The Musalmān Beauties were smarter than Musalmīn.
They had replaced Musalmīn in their sex life with Hindus.
They were adamant to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had vowed to do it.
It was now her Mission of life/existence.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs knew it and he had vowed to oppose it.
He was a successful screenplay writer and storywriter.
He had understood how the goal of Ved Nagar was achieved by HVSI Group of Business Enterprises.
Today, HVSI Group of Business Enterprises is controlling every business whether retail or otherwise.
Originally, it was started by Vishvās Shakr Mānav, the utmost brilliant father of Durgesh.
Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Wahāb PhD loved Vishvās Shakr Mānav.
She wanted to destroy Pseudo Islam and replace it with True Islam, everywhere.
Vishvās Shakr Mānav wanted to destroy Pseudo Hinduism.
They found true Hinduism was actually True Islam.
It was the fact that made Hindu Muslim Unity so perfect before 1857 that even the British Empire couldn’t face it.
Even the British Empire needed complete ninety years to destroy it.
Even then, most of the Musalmīn never left India.
The Hindu Muslim Unity was so strong.
Mughal-e-Åāzam, Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar, had set India successfully on the path that couldn’t be reversed even by the great British Empire.*

When my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter first asked if she and her friends could have a ‘sleep over’ in honor of their graduating from high school I wasn’t too happy.
The thought of a bunch of kids making noise all night, keeping me awake didn’t appeal to me.
But, my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān, said sure, no problem so what could I say?
I was angry somewhat with myself that I said her to get permission from her Ammī.
I never anticipated her Ammī would permit it.
Well, it was their house.
My friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm, was in jail now.
Despite my every effort, I could not get him out on bail.
Muħammad Åbdullah said,
“He doesn’t deserve it, Durgesh. Please stop taking his side. If you are really sympathetic to his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, why the hell you yourself don’t fuck her now?”
“Muħammad Åbdullaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” I shouted, “how the hell did you suggest it?”
Muħammad Åbdullah was furious.
“Hasn’t she grabbed your Uncut Hindu Penis even while Muħammad Ibrāhīm and I were present there?”
“You challenged Shakīlah Sultān, Bhabhijan, didn’t you? You called her a chicken.”
“I did that purposefully. Muħammad Ibrāhīm has killed Imrān Hāshmī. He tried to frame Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd. I would never allow him out on bail even.”*

I watched Muħammad Åbdullah harshly.
“Now I understand, Muħammad Åbdullah.”
“Oh,” Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly, “now you understand. Now the hell you understand.”
“Muħammad Åbdullah,”
“Don’t try to discipline me. I never took any discipline from you. If I had, my entire sixteen nudist feminist sisters were disgracing me still now everywhere.”
“You want to punish Muħammad Ibrāhīm, don’t you?” I charged Muħammad Åbdullah angrily.
“That isn’t any secret now.”
“Muħammad Åbdullah, he says he is innocent.”
“And you believe it?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t he try to frame Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd?”
“Someone tried to frame Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.” I amended Muħammad Åbdullah patiently, “It’s more likely that Al Nadīm Al Quddūs did it. His sisters did it. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had a billion at least. And they have already tried their best to disinherit Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.”
“You think Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has really been murdered?”
“Well?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim wasn’t anybody’s fool. I know he met you before he vanished.”
“Vanished?”
“Vanished.” Muħammad Åbdullah said stubbornly, “the dead body they claim to be that of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, certainly resembles him, but…”
“But?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has a son in law, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. He is himself shrewd enough to troubleshoot Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s every trouble.”*

I never told Muħammad Åbdullah that Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, has in the meantime fucked me.
I knew Muħammad Åbdullah himself encouraged Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān to fuck me.
The day Muħammad Ibrāhīm was refused to be out on bail, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān plunged on me, undressed me herself, and straddled me.
“B..bh.. Bhābhījān,” I gasped, “I respect you very much.”
“Damn you.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān thundered at me, “I’m your friend’s wife. Am I not?”
“Sure, Bhābhījān, but…”
“He is in jail. Now replace him. You promised Muħammad Ibrāhīm that you would take care of his wives, his daughters, his sisters and his entire household. Didn’t you?”
“Of course, Bhābhījān, but…”
“Your Bhābhījān wants your legendary Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot now. Give it to me.”
I still couldn’t believe Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān had come to me entirely nude.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, even at her forty what a dazzling Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty she was.
I had noticed her attention to me.
It was not of a friend’s wife’s ever.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm had also noticed it miserably.
What the hell could he do?
Durgesh was behaving with Shakīlah Sultān perfectly.
But Shakīlah Sultān herself was behaving suggestively.
Allah, wasn’t she satisfied with him?
Did she also want to fuck Durgesh?
Allah Rabbil åālmīn.
Raħmānirraħīm.
Durgesh is a love magnet to Musalmān Beauties.*

Nude Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was straddling on nude me.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was in her extremely beautiful right hand.
She was playing with it.
“Bhābhījān,” I tried to say, “Please, control yourself. Muħammad Ibrāhīm is innocent.”
“If you wouldn’t fuck me, I would testify against your friend.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled at me cunningly.
“Close the door, please.”
“Hey, I want to show everyone that I’ve found my new husband already.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I have so many women friends that are married to your Musalmān friends.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled suggestively.
“So?” I looked into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes coldly.
The woman was making me unable to meet my eyes with Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
She wasn’t any different ultimately from my other Musalmān friends’ Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives.
Most of them were already fucking me.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was an exception to them.
I respected her therefore very much.
Muħammad Åbdullah was never confident Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān would never fuck me.
“Sooner or later they would all fuck you.” Muħammad Åbdullah had predicted.
I knew Muħammad Åbdullah was right.
But I didn’t want to break Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s heart.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was rubbing my Uncut Hindu Prick’s utmost experienced head now between her labial lips.
Bit by bit she was pushing herself on me.
“Bhābhījān, we Hindus think a Bhābhī is as if a mother.”
“Nonsense.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān winked at me, “You have already fucked almost entire Musalmān wives of your Musalmān friends that are extremely beautiful. What do you think I was born yesterday?”
She positioned my Uncut Hindu Prick between her ravenously quivering Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān labial lips and pushed herself.
My Uncut Hindu Lund immediately entered into her Musalmān Choot upto its head.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Lund burning inside her.
So dazzlingly beautiful Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was that despite my efforts not to fuck her, I now wanted to grab her and fuck her wildly till we both existed.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, now perhaps I myself wanted to fuck her more furiously.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān thrust again and my Uncut Hindu Lund entered into her tight Musalmān Choot almost one fourth.
“Bhābhījān,” I protested.
“Shut up, you idiot, enjoy, and let me enjoy too.”
“Bhābhījān, please!”
“I wanted to fuck you right when I saw you first.”
“That’s why you fell in my lap deliberately?”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān winked at me.
“You scoundrel, you squeezed my boobs and buttocks inadvertently, then and there, didn’t you?”
“Inadvertently, Bhābhījān, inadvertently. You said yourself . You are so beautiful that I couldn’t resist myself at all. And when you grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis feigning it was an accident, I’d just gone crazy.”
“I wanted to hold it, I wanted to play with it, I wanted to suck it. My so many girlfriends were already enjoying it. And they had challenged me I couldn’t enjoy it before my marriage with Muħammad Ibrāhīm.”*

A week before the party my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān, found out she was going to be out of town, presenting at some conference, and wouldn’t be there for the ‘big event’.
This meant that I would be the chaperone.
When I brought up the idea of postponing the sleep over until my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān, would be around to ‘heard’ the kids, I again was outvoted.

Saturday morning finally arrived and my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter, Noor Islam, was up early getting things ready for the party.
I went with her to the grocery store to load up on food and drinks.
When we got home, we went to find out whether the pool was clean and make sure everything was ready.
By about 4:00PM we were ready.

The girls started arriving at about five.
I knew a few of them by name, others looked vaguely familiar and several I had never seen before.
I stayed in my den, watching TV and surfing the web.
About seven, Noor Islam popped her head in the door.

“Uncle, I need your help.” She said, “We can’t get the barbeque going.”

I let out a big sigh, as if she was really imposing on me, got up from my chair and headed to the backyard.
It took no time at all to get the fire going.
When I looked around for my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter she was nowhere to be found.
Shrugging, I watched the servants piling the hamburgers and hot dogs onto the grill and figured that I had an excellent chef in my services.

Within a few minutes, the eight girls came, flying out of the house, headed for the pool.
As I watched them running by, I began to think that being the chief host for this party wasn’t going to be too bad after all.
All of the girls wore little thong bikinis and from where I stood there wasn’t a bad looking one in the bunch.

It was a perfect evening, fairly warm so everyone was in and out of the pool as they laughed, talked and had a good time.
After a while I noticed that every now and then one or two of the girls would head into the house for a couple minutes and then come back.
At first, I thought it was to use the bathroom, but it seemed the girls were now heading to the house about every 15 minutes.
Finally, my curiosity got the best of me and about 5 minutes after my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter and her friend Rukħsānah Firdaus went inside, I followed them.*

I didn’t see anyone as I entered the living room.
That’s when I heard laughter coming from my den.
I walked quietly to the door and peaked in.
There was Noor Islam and Rukħsānah Firdaus downing shots of her Ammī’s private stock of Tequila.
From the looks of it the girls had been drinking for a while.
The bottle had been unopened and was now almost empty.

My first thought was to barge in and give them hell.
Then I figured that they were all over 18 and it was a party so why should an old prude and spoil things.
My only concern was if one of them decided to go for a drive.
Stepping into the den, I said in a very stern tone,
“The cost of the Tequila is everyone’s car keys.”

Rukħsānah Firdaus had been bringing a shot to her lips.
She spilled the tequila all over her chin and chest as she jumped when I began to speak.
Both the girls turned toward me, as they quickly set the shot glasses down on the desk and then stood in front of the bottle and glasses.

I let them fidget for a minute before saying,
“I said I want everyone’s car keys – NOW – or the drinking and party stops!”

Rukħsānah Firdaus was the first to get it.
“If we give you our car keys you won’t care if we drink?” she asked is a very shy voice.

“That’s what I said” was my reply.
They almost ran over me!
Both the girls flew out of the room and within two minutes Rukħsānah Firdaus was back with eight sets of car keys.
She was out of breath from running and her chest was heaving as she gasped for air.
The fact that she was wearing a very skimpy bikini and that her superb ardent Musalmān tits looked like they were ready to burst out of the thin material was not wasted on me.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Cock begin to stir as I enjoyed the view.

Apparently Rukħsānah Firdaus had had quite a few shots of the tequila already, she was swaying pretty well as she stood in front of me with a crooked little smile on her face, both hands full of car keys.

“Hereyago,” she mumbled bringing her hands up to her chest she held out the car keys in front of her.

Thinking she was going to drop them, I automatically raised my hands to catch the keys.
At the same moment, Rukħsānah Firdaus swayed in my direction.
The net effect was that her hands hit my chest causing her to drop the keys to the floor while my hands ended up full of her superb ardent Musalmān tits.
As much as I knew, I should have let go of Rukħsānah Firdaus’s tits and back away, yet my hands refused to obey.

“Mr. Durgesh!! You shouldn’t be doing that,” Rukħsānah Firdaus said impishly.
But she did nothing either to push my hands away or back up.
It seemed to me that she pressed her taught 34B’s a little harder into my hands.
“Sālī,” I winked at her, “I’d fuck you till you exist.”
“Really?” she cooed, “you are most welcome. That’s my own dream, however, since I saw you fucking my Ammī vigorously. Allah, how she was enjoying your Uncut Hindu Lund in her ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot. I envied her very much.”

Feeling her nipples growing under my fingers, I pinched both of them. Rukħsānah Firdaus let out a little moan deep in her throat and brought her arms up to my shoulders, resting her hands on the back of my neck.
As she pressed against me, my hands came off her superb ardent Musalmān tits , sliding around her back until we were in a tight ashvinātam embrace.

I could feel her nipples now pressing into my chest like two pencil erasers.
My hands slid down her back to her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ass.
The thong bikini did nothing to cover her as I took an ass cheek into each hand and began to squeeze.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was now fully erect and pressing against her firm belly.
Looking down into her lovely eyes, I saw her part her lips as she pulled my face to hers.
Our lips met – then our tongues as the kiss became more passionate.
Pulling her to me I could feel her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt against my thigh as she wrapped her legs around mine.
Rukħsānah Firdaus dropped one of her hands between us and began stroking my hard Uncut Hindu Cock.

“Mmmmmmmm, that feels good” she whispered, “I want to see that big Uncut Hindu Cock of yours Mr. Durgesh.”

We pulled far enough apart for both of her hands to reach between us and in no time, she had loosened my belt, unsnapped by trousers and pushed them down my legs.
Her hands then went to my rigid Uncut Hindu Cock, slowly rubbing up and down my 8 inches.

This was too much for me.
My own hands went to work consequently.
I easily brushed aside her skimpy bikini top with one hand and reaching one of her superb ardent Musalmān tits; I begin pinching and pulling on her hard nipple.
My other hand burrowed under Rukħsānah Firdaus’s bikini briefs sliding my fingers thru the fine down of pubic hair until my finger slid over her erect Musalmān clit and then into her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Pulling my hand back a few inches I thrust it forward again repeating the action.

Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt was so wet my Uncut Hindu Lund slid into her with almost no resistance.
I fucked her.
This caused Rukħsānah Firdaus to moan even more as she dropped one of her hands to my heavy balls and began massaging them.

I was quickly approaching the point of no return.
Any thoughts of how wrong this was were long gone.
The only thing I could think of now was shoving my Uncut Hindu Cock into this hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Sex godess’s drooling Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Grabbing the thin material, I yanked off the thong covering Rukħsānah Firdaus’s hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Then circling her waist with my arm I lifted her up off the floor.
It was two steps to the wall to steady us.
As we moved I dropped my other hand to my Uncut Hindu Cock and positioned the head at her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and lowered her onto my fat pole.
The whole process took just a few seconds.

Rukħsānah Firdaus’s eyes opened wide as she felt her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips being stretched by my huge Hindu erection.
She was about to say something when I relaxed my hold on her, causing her to slide all the way down on my waiting Uncut Hindu Cock.
She was now impaled on my Uncut Hindu Cock with her back against the wall and her feet dangling several inches off the floor.

“Allah, Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Oh God, you’ve got a huge Uncut Hindu Cock!” she hissed as I lifted her up and dropped her on my Uncut Hindu Cock again. “It feels like you’re splitting me in half.”

Rukħsānah Firdaus’s arms were now back on my shoulders helping raise and lower her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt onto my steely Uncut Hindu Cock.
She had closed her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes and was shaking her beautiful head slowly from side to side, as our fucking tempo increased.
Soon sweat broke out across her forehead and upper lip and I could see just the tip of her tongue sticking through her clinched lips.

Her breathing became erratic and her face flushed.
Rukħsānah Firdaus brought her legs up and locked them behind me.
This gave me a better angle at her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt and with the next thrust I went even deeper up her slick Musalmān hole.

That was all it took.
She spasmed in my arms, jerking her head back and letting out a long moan of pleasure.
We fucked for hours, wildly, passionately and assaulting on each other nonstop.
Ultimately, this sent me over the edge and my Uncut Hindu Cock erupted in her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Shooting glob after glob of my cum deep into her grasping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

We held onto each other for several minutes riding the crest of our mutual orgasm.
Finally, Rukħsānah Firdaus unlocked her legs from around my waist and I eased her to the floor.
My Uncut Hindu Cock slid out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, followed by a thick stream of cum.
Our breathing returned to normal and Rukħsānah Firdaus looked up into my eyes as a huge grin crossed her face.

“Allah, Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! God Mr. Durgesh, you’re still hotat your sixty three!! Wallah!” she said, “You have got one huge Uncut Hindu Cock and boy do you know how to use it. I haven’t cum like that in a long long time. We have GOT to do this again as much as we can.” She pulled my face to hers, gave me a quick passionate kiss and slid out from between the wall and me.

“Now I need to find my suit, clean up this bucket of cum you shot into me and get back to the party.” Finding her thong Rukħsānah Firdaus disappeared in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.*

Chapter 18
————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

Ved Nagar: 16

Posted: September 21, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Åāýéshah Siddīqah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Hudā, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Musarrat Kħālid, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Pratāp Bachhalyā, Salim Javed, Seven Movements, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Vikram Bachhalyā | 4 Comments

Volume 2

Ved Nagar

Chapter 16

Durgesh Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd
Durgesh Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd

The train had come to a stop.
Doors glided open.
Porters stood helping passengers off the train.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd stood looking first to the left, then to the right.
A woman got off the train, stood looking around as though expecting to meet someone, started to walk toward the depot, paused, turned and walked toward Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
“Waħīdah!” the woman said.
“Why, Ammījān!” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd exclaimed with entirely unanticipated extremely pleasant surprise. “Allah! Good heavens, I didn’t recognize you. Even your own daughter couldn’t recognize you! What have you done to yourself? Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I exchanged glances.
“Allah Allah! Good Lord, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd? Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s first wife? I’ll be damned.”*

Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd smiled at her daughter.
“Hey, don’t tell me my new Hindu husband, my new Hindu Kħasam, didn’t tell you how miraculously he has transformed me.”
“Well, he told me,” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd managed to control somewhat her still miraculously extremely pleasant surprise, “but I could never imagine… Ammījān, you look only my elder sister now. None can ever guess you are my real Ammī. It’s just a miracle, Ammī. You’ve really taken off weight.”
“Thirty five pounds.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said, “I’m down to a hundred and twenty one and I’m going to stay that way. I’ve learned the hard way what happens to a woman when she lets her figure go.”
“Let Abbū see you and…”
Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd interrupted her daughter in the middle,
“Allah, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, don’t tell me you still care for that bastard. He divorced a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān immensely faithful wife, for a hostess, for a shill who put on daringly cut evening gowns that were tight and clinging and circulated around the gambling tables here in Las Vegas, Nevada.”
Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd was immensely angry.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd could understand very well what her Ammī was suffering through mentally.
“That’s why I requested you to meet somewhere else. But you insisted.”
“I lost my husband here. I want to celebrate my new private life exactly here to wipe out my memories of nonstop mental torture. You perhaps don’t know the bastard is also coming here to request me not to allow you to live in relationship with Durgesh. Hahaha. A thoroughly immoral husband is impersonating a thoroughly moral father now.”

I entered the room Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus were waiting for me in.
It was mellow, rich, with subdued sunlight filtering through pearl gray drapes.
There was wall-to-wall oyster-shell-colored carpeting on the floor.
The chairs were deep and comfortable.
The whole room was esthetically decorated.
It gave the impression that it had been designed for living, rather than to conform, to imitate, to any particular style of interior decoration.
“Beautifully decorated.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said as I entered there.
“Thank you.” I smiled, “But the credit goes to your friend Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, not to me.”
“I don’t think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and you are two different persons.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cooed.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Thank you, Al Safiyah.”
“I’m sorry that you two, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and you, have differences of opinions.”
“Don’t be so modest ever.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said furiously, “Your ‘father in law’ has clearly accused Al Safiyah Al Ghaus that she has murdered her previous husband.”
“It was his opinion, darling, not mine. How can I answer for him?”
“I think I need to talk with Al Zakāt Al Qāsim about it.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me significantly.
“The question is why did your friend break Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s home?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched me suggestively.
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs went to me in Las Vegas, Nevada. I didn’t go to him.” she said somewhat acidly, “moreover, the life I was living wasn’t a dignified life. It was my compulsion, not my choice. Why the hell I shouldn’t grab an opportunity to lead a respectful life with a millionaire if I could?”
“Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd should herself blame for what happened.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly, “How the hell she thought Al Nadīm Al Quddūs woud not react to as a dazzling Musalmān Beauty as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus? How did Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd forget she was herself a dazzling Musalmān Beauty when Al Nadīm Al Quddūs married her? It’s a world of bitter competition. Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd should have maintained her beauty herself. Why the hell did she forget to watch her married life to be safe if she could?”*

I smiled at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ironically.
“You mean every Musalmān Beauty is justified in breaking the other Musalmān Beauty’s home, if she is leading the hard and degrading life as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus did?”
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could do it because Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd lost her interest in keeping her Musalmān husband properly.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly, “Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd took her husband for granted to be devoted to her only because he was married to her. Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd stopped watching her own figure despite knowing very well the polygamous nature of a man. It was her own mistake and she paid for it.”
“You haven’t any sympathy for Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd?”
“I have more sympathy for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said tersely.
“Because Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was suffering more in Las Vegas, Nevada?”
“Because Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was suffering more in Las Vegas, Nevada.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan repeated despite my smirk, “Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd was already a honorable housewife. Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was not. It was natural for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus that she tried to improve her personal life.”
“And Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the only man available to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus?” I kept smirking.*

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled curtly.
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the immediate man available. Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t love him. He was the only immediate man available to her who could help her for getting rid off that rather undignified life she was compelled to lead.”
I watched Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim suspected I was fucking her.
I didn’t contradict him.
It was useless.
The reputation Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ, Åāýéshah Siddīqah, Kħadījah Muħammad, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her now famous/infamous seven movements: Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service, had built up for me, never allowed anyone to believe ever that, a Musalmān Beauty was available to me and I never fucked her.*

Al Safiyah Al Ghaus awoke in her luxurious Ved Nagar mansion.
She pressed a button to open the electrically controlled drapes.
She was confronted by the side of a young man.
Vikram Bachhalyā was clad in a white T-shirt and exquisite jeans.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus struggled to sit up, buzzing for Musarrat Kħālid, her secretary.
At the same time Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was flinging on a marabou trimmed silk robe and pressing her feet into dusty pink mules.
Vikram Bachhalyā stretched himself and strolled casually out of view.
“Musarrat Kħālid,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus called, “where the hell are you?”
Musarrat Kħālid appeared, inscrutable, calm and anxious to her mistress’s calls.
She appreciated Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Most of the Ved Nagar film industry wives screamed at their secretaries.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus never did it.
She was always sophisticated.
What a pleasant exception Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was to the other Ved Nagar film industry wives.
The same Hollywood wives were there.
The same Bollywood wives were there.
The same Lollywood wives were there.
The same Tollywood wives were there.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was quite different with them.
“There was Vikram Bachhalyā out by the pool. I wonder what the Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim’s Hindu husband was doing there. A Bachhalyā rarely loves a Musalmān Beauty. All the Bachhalyās are crazily obsessed with the Brāhmañ Beauties. You know that, Musarrat Kħālid, don’t you?”
Musarrat Kħālid smiled patiently,
“Durgesh is also a Bachhalyā, ma’am.”
“There are exceptions too, to every general attitude we notice about others.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled patiently too, “Don’t you think so?”
“Sure, ma’am.”
“That’s good. Make sure all the doors are locked.”
Musarrat Kħālid nodded,
“Sure, ma’am.”
She began to collect debris of clutter from Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s bedside table. Dirty Kleenex, a half finished glass of wine, a rifled box of chocolates.
“Musarrat,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus addressed her again.
“Don’t get excited, Señora.” Musarrat Kħālid said stoically, “Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim ma’am is not feeling good. She requested Vikram Bachhalyā, her husband…”
Musarrat Kħālid even couldn’t complete her sentence.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that before?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus scolded Musarrat Kħālid and flung herself into her bathroom.
She slammed the door so hard that a framed print sprang off the wall and crashed to the floor.
Stupid secretary.
Dumb ass woman.
It was impossible to get good help anymore.
They came. They went.
They did not give a damn even if you were raped and ravaged in your own home.
And this would have to happen while Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was away on location.
Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim would never have dared to pretend to be sick if Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was here.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus flung off her robe, slipped out of her nightgown, and stepped under the invigorating sharpness of an ice cold shower.
She gritted her teeth.
Cold shower was best for the skin.
It tightened everything up.
Allah målūm, God knows, even with the gym and yoga and the modern dance class it still all needed tightening.
No, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wasn’t fat even a bit.
She knew very well how incredibly beautiful she was.
People were either jealous or crazy of her incredible Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Beauty.
She was aware of it.
She knew it was her greatest weapon in this damn male dominated world.
Her brother in law, her dévar, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, hated the ground Al Safiyah Al Ghaus walked on, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew.
But what can the damn fool do?
He is claiming now Al Safiyah Al Ghaus has murdered her former husband.
But can the moron explain why the hell she worked as a hostess before marrying Al Nadīm Al Quddūs?
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled.
She wasn’t born yesterday.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim still has a long way to understand what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus really was.
The life had taught her more than it taught Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled shrewdly.
She lived now in a six bedroomed, seven bathroomed, Ved Nagar Film Industry palace.
On the flats too.
Not stuck up in the hills.
On the flats.
Prime real Estate.
Her extraordinary devastating Musalmān beauty is perfectly being taken care of.
Her hair was a rich brown, cut short and tipped with golden streaks.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān skin was alabaster white and smooth.
Thanks to regular facials.
Her teeth were white and even.
She was prudent enough never to stop reading and learning.
Most of the Ved Nagar film industry wives criticize Al Safiyah Al Ghaus that she reads so much.
They didn’t understand its benefits.
Moreover, the proud Musalmān Beauties neither wanted to read and keep on improving themselves as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus did without failure nonstop.
Most of the Ved Nagar film industry wives used to read Hollywood stuff only.
‘Vogue’, ‘People’, ‘Us’.
They skimmed the trades, ‘Variety’ and ‘Hollywood Reporter’.
Wasn’t Ronald Regan elected the President?
Wasn’t Obama?
If they can do it, why the hell can’t Al Nadīm Al Quddūs even?
Yes, he isn’t a star as Ronald Regan.
But he is a first class screenplay writer.
He can dream wonderfully.
He was one of the best dreamers in Ved Nagar Film Industry, Hollywood, Bollywood, Lollywood and Tollywood.
His screenplays were always stupendous hits.
After Salim Javed Al Nadīm Al Quddūs has also made a writer a star.*
Despite frantic and desperate attempts from Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew how obsessed Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was with her.
He deliberately chose to marry a gambling house hostess, a shill, from Las Vegas, Nevada.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew it was the only place she could impress the then successful screenplay writer of Ved Nagar Film Industry.
He could be a stepladder for her to fulfill her dreams.
She could easily make it with a dreamer.
The realists were not for her.
They love money/ career/life more than they love anything else.
Durgesh is a realist.
Yes, he is a dreamer too.
But he is a realist dreamer.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t a realist at all.
He was only a dreamer.
He could be a stepladder for her.
Durgesh couldn’t.
He has his own mission.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus has her own mission.
Durgesh could help her in her mission, but not as a stepladder.
Never.
Durgesh is too prudent, too realistic.

Musarrat Kħālid suddenly hammered on the bathroom door.
“Señora, Durgesh has come. Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī is with him. Allah, Señora, Durgesh is fucking Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī too.”*

It was a big mansion, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim lived in with her Bachhalyā Hindu husband, Pratāp Bachhalyā.
The house was one of the show places of Ved Nagar.
It had side porches, spacious grounds, shade trees, lawns, summerhouses, terraces, winding walks and swimming pools.
It was a vast exquisite dwelling.
It showed, rather exhibited, the multi millions Pratāp Bachhalyā and his extremely beautiful wife, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, possessed.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī turned my limousine in at the driveway.
Together with the big garage, the driveway was itself magnificent.
The hard surfaced driveway cut through in a businesslike straight line past the winding walks that followed the contours of the terraced grounds.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, the ambitious sister of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, now a successful lawyer herself, stopped my limousine.
She rang the bell second time before we heard confident steps, knees, elbows and palms, and then the door was opened by extremely beautiful Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā themselves.
Al Lubnā Al Qāsim smiled at her elder sister.
She was their lawyer despite she was an integral part of HVS Law Internationals now.
The Al Qāsims still had their faith in their own blood?
I didn’t know.

Al Lubnā Al Qāsim was similarly on her knees and elbows as her elder sister, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, was.
Pratāp Bachhalyā was fucking Al Lubnā Al Qāsim from her gorgeous behind as I was fucking Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
It was Ved Nagar.
Nonstop sophisticated fucking was entirely legal and normal here.
It was in India, but it was a largely privileged Global City, rather Inter Universal to be more correct and more specific.
“Welcome,” Pratāp Bachhalyā and Al Lubnā Al Qāsim smiled, “Come in, please.”
“Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs Bhāījān, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Vikram Bachhalyā…”
Al Lubnā Al Qāsim interrupted Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī in her mid sentence.
“They all have already come. You are rather late.”*

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and I followed Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā.
The room we entered in, was thoroughly in keeping with the rest of the house.
It was a large spacious library.
Both Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and her husband, Pratāp Bachhalyā, were great believers in reading and keeping themselves update.
So were Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and I.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was not my live in relationship partner exactly.
She was my friend and sister in law, my Salhaj, actually.
Yet, we fucked now openly.
Even her husband appreciated our exquisite fucking.
The entire Al Qāsim sisters were thoroughly devastating Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Beauties.
I smiled at Pratāp Bachhalyā.
“You are one of the luckiest men, Pratāp. Your wife is really a devastating Musalmān Beauty. Congratulations.”
Pratāp Bachhalyā smiled graciously.
“Thank you very much.”

In the center of the library, there was a massive mahogany table.
There were three huge table lamps on the table.
The shades were some four feet in diameter at the bottom.
They were composed of heavy leather.
The clustered lamps on the interior poured fourth illumination upon the huge table and sprayed light out through the openings in the tops of the shades.
Six chairs had been drawn up at the table.
Three of them were occupied.
The fourth was evidently occupied by Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā.
Evidently, they were fucking on the fourth chair, as Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Vikram Bachhalyā were still fucking on the third.
The fifth chair was occupied by Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
The last sixth chair was occupied by Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and Al Nadīm Al Quddūs were also husband and wife.
Yet they were sitting on separate chairs fully clothed.
“Hey,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed at them, “aren’t you too husband and wife?”
“Sure we are.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly, “But I am neither Vikram Bachhalyā nor Pratāp Bachhalyā. I am Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. Remember?”
Vikram Bachhalyā fucking Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā fucking Al Lubnā Al Qāsim laughed.
Both the younger sisters of Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Al Lubnā Al Qāsim laughed too.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was shamelessly not embarrassed.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked shameful of herself.
“Sorry, Al Hudā , your cousin is a finicky. He doesn’t care ever even a bit how embarrassed and shameful I am feeling myself, as if my husband has died or divorced me already. His backward morals…”
“Backward morals hell,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly, “I am not an ever sexy Hindu. And you knew it very well before you married me. Didn’t you?”

Chapter 17
———————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

Ved Nagar: 6

Posted: August 12, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Hudā, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ved Prakāsh | 4 Comments

Volume 2

Chapter 6

Durgesh Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah

I smiled.

“Don’t want to tell me?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched me cunningly.

She wrapped her extremely beautiful nude legs around my nude Hindu male waist.

I found myself penetrating Hudā more,

“Well, I asked Muħammad bin Qāsim a few questions in order to get the picture.”

“And then?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.

I too smiled niftily.

“Then I told your foolish cousin to go to hell. I hate blackmailers.”

Hudā nodded.

My Uncut Hindu Cock was passionately, yet somewhat wildly, visiting the now successful defense attorney’s tight Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.

“Now, what is your legal opinion?”

“Well, well, well.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed, “Don’t tell me you really need that. Everyone says you are a legal wizard in almost every country’s penal code.”

“A second opinion should always be taken, Hudā darling. Sometimes we are overconfident and consequently we overlook some vital point thereof.”

“I don’t think my over ambitious cousin, Muħammad bin Qāsim, has a leg to stand on legally. He certainly wanted to score on Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah when he sent his agent to her. But it was unfortunate for Muħammad bin Qāsim that Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah had her account in HVSI Bank. His contract lapsed five months ago.”

“You are right.”

“I think there has been an abandonment of the premises.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled gravely squeezing the entire length and thickness of my Uncut Hindu Penis contracting her vaginal muscles, “I think there has been a termination of the lease by a mutual implied consent.”

“I don’t think the particular lease in question permits your over smart cousin, Muħammad bin Qāsim, to cure his default in the payment of rent, even if there hasn’t been any abandonment or mutual termination by implied consent.” I said gravely.

“And suppose, Muħammad bin Qāsim goes to court?”

“Against me? Against HVSI? I don’t think he’s a fool enough to do so.”

“But if he is?”

“Then we can lick your cousin.”

“How long?”

I smiled meaningfully, and kept fucking her, without answering.

“Go ahead,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī said, “Won’t you let even me know of what you really are planning to do? You are not only a barrister; you are a businessman as well. Besides, you have a large number of the best legal brains of the time under HVS Law Internationals. It all helped you building a most successful financial empire too, as well as a spiritual empire, a Sex Empire and a political empire too.”*

I smiled sumptuously.

“Well, of course, it depends somewhat on the amount of opposition we meet, whether Muħammad bin Qāsim is simply running a naked bluff or whether he is willing to spend some money to try and hold us up.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched me scrutinizing.

“I think I know my cousin enough, at least to know that he’d spend some money to try and hold us up.”

“In that case, he’d lose his money too, as well as the case.” I announced firmly.

“You’ll see to it?”

“I’ll see to it. You’re damn right.”

“Allah bless the damnfool Muħammad bin Qāsim.”

I winked at her and increased my pace.

We enjoyed our lovemaking silently for some time.

Then I said.

“I keep so many firms of confidential investigators under retainer. Whenever a thing of this sort crops up, I try to find out something of the nature of the person I’m dealing with.”

Hudā deliberately kept silence.

Muħammad bin Qāsim, her cousin was foolish, she knew.

But he was such a fool that he would fight a court case against HVSI, and me she didn’t know.

I never lost a case, she knew.

HVSI, under my Life Chairmanship enjoyed the same reputation.

Well, let the idiot learn the hard way.

What the hell she could do?

Muħammad bin Qāsim’s own real sister, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim, herself was my Live in Relationship Partner.

When even Al Zakāt Al Qāsim couldn’t explain him that, I was insurmountable, let him learn the hard way, himself.

I allowed her enough time to digest what I said.

Then I said.

“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah did the right thing to retain you in the matter, Hudā. I’ve too many cases involving the life and death of so many Musalmān damsels in distress. I might don’t have enough time to represent her in this matter. However, we can still discuss it every now and then, and you can get my guidance even whenever it’s needed.”

Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī nodded.*

I went on.

“Your cousin, Muħammad bin Qāsim, is a promoter. He is shrewd as well as Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is concerned, but not as shrewd even as Ruqayyah’s younger sister Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah is.”

Hudā watched me appreciatively.

The entire scene when Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah came to her law office whirled in front of Hudā’s extremely beautiful eyes:

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah determinedly pushed open the door marked ‘Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Attorney at Law, Entrance’, and then held the door for Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah lagged behind somewhat dubiously.

Of course, she hadn’t taken the five hundred dollars Muħammad bin Qāsim had sent to her so shrewdly.

He couldn’t dare to take advantage of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah so cleverly.

Why?

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah is shrewder than Muħammad bin Qāsim.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah is shrewder than Muħammad Ůsmān too.

Muħammad Ůsmān also is usually afraid of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.

But neither Muħammad bin Qāsim nor Muħammad Ůsmān is afraid of Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.

Both of them daringly try to deceive her.

When the hell Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah would learn to build an image of her so that no person like Muħammad bin Qāsim and Muħammad Ůsmān ever dare to try to cheat on her.

When the hell Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah would learn to live her life independently?

At five minutes before three in the afternoon, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah had entered the one of the hugest buildings of HVSI in Ved Nagar.

It was the building of HVSI Bank.

As though her entrance had been an anticipated signal, a man in the dark blue pin stripe single breasted took from his breast pocket a leather wallet.

The wallet had worn shiny from much use.

Confidently and quite purposefully, he walked toward the line where Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah was standing.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah was immediately all-alert.

She knew that man.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had deliberately shown her Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.

“Be aware of this young man, Bājī.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had said, “He is Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. He is the real brain behind the meteoric success of Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company. There are rumors now that he is the next managing director of Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim deliberately planned to marry his daughter, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, to Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. He is Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s eldest sister’s son.”

“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s eldest sister’s son? Al Zubaydah Al Qāsim has married a Hindu?” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah had asked.

“Sure. So many of us Musalmān Beauties are marrying now Hindus. The Pseudo Musalmīn have ultimately disappointed us Musalmān Beauties to the extent.”

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah frowned abstractedly, absent mindedly, at the clock on the far wall.

It was an act however hopefully deceiving Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.

She wasn’t certain however that it would.

Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was an immensely communal Pseudo Musalmān.

He couldn’t marry one of his daughters to a Hindu if the Hindu wasn’t essential for his Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.

The Hindus are very shrewd.

Mahā Bhārat had already made them shrewder than the non-Hindus.

Divý Itihās, Durgesh Allah Durgesh Fātimah Durgesh Åāýéshah, has made them shrewdest.

Durgesh is the shrewdest man she has ever known in the entire history of humankind.

He is incredible.

He is a miracle.

Sometimes she doubts even whether whatever she hears of Durgesh is really true.

Aren’t Hindus experts in spreading rumors benevolent to themselves?

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled deliberately.

The line before the teller’s window shuffled slowly forward.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah kept place with it.

She was looking up at the clock, from time to time, in the manner of one who was accustomed to devote an increasing amount of mental energy necessarily to rearranging the pattern of life, yet still finds the responsibility too great a strain.

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, in the blue pin stripe, moved up.

He was a cheerful faced young man.

She could easily have been deceived by his harmless, confidence generating appearance if Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah hadn’t warned her already.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was very smart.

Why the hell Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah wasn’t?

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was in his early thirties.

Or, at least it was what he looked.

Durgesh also looked in his early thirties always.

Yet, he claims to be sixty-three himself.

The appearance of these Vedic Monotheist Hindus is always deceptive.

Is their claim of truthfulness of Eīshān Vigyān really true?

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was wide-awake.

A keen student of character, such as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and Durgesh were, would have classified Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand as a savage, vicious little fighter who was capable even to stand up in an aggressive toe-to-toe slugging match, yet even then he’d wait for the opportunity he wanted, then be quick to seize the advantage.

That’s why he was so successful.

HVSI has given all the Vedic Monotheist Hindus the perfect training how to live in the today’s ultra-modern world successfully.

They never waste their precious time as the ever foolish, ever childish, ever over religious Pseudo Musalmīn do.

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was one of the persons that would ruthlessly exterminate his opponent if his opponent ever went down.

But he was even capable never to run for cover if his opponent didn’t go down.

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was as a crooked and as an opportunist as Durgesh himself was.

Yet, both of them never used these wonderful skills of them to harm the persons who were good.

They gave themselves every advantage, specializing in gouging and kicking the bad persons even below the belt, remorselessly.

That was the mystery of their meteoric incredulous success.

HVSI trained its members similarly always.

It never compromised with the evil doers.

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand moved up to stand beside Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah in the line.*

The fingers of his left hand suddenly shoved five one-hundred-dollar bills into Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hand.

“Here you are Ms. Muħammad Åbdullah.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled disarmingly.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hand automatically threw the money like a hot potato.

Thanks Allah.

Her subconscious mind again saved her.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was smart enough to train her subconscious mind, instead of training Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.

She knew Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah might lag behind, but not her subconscious mind ever.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah looked down at it with the bewildered expression of one emerging from a sleep that has been troubled by some annoying dream.

Allah!

And she thought she was all-alert now.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah turned her eyes to the handsome face of Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand in the dark suit.

The man behind Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah growled.

“You can’t double up this way. Get back behind me at the end of the line.”

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah’s voice had once been well modulated.

Now it was getting slightly harsh as she found it necessary to cope with more and more annoying factors in life.

“What’s this? Who the hell are you?” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah asked indignantly.

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled confidently, triumphantly somewhat.

“I’m an agent for Muħammad bin Qāsim. This is five months’ deferred drilling payments under our oil lease on your property at Ved Nagar. Sign this receipt, please. Right here on the dotted line. Here’s a pen.”

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand whipped a receipt book from his pocket.

He snapped back the cover and held the blanks where Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah could see them.*

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.

“Smart strategy. Isn’t it Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand? After showing absolutely no interest at all for complete five months, Muħammad bin Qāsim deputes his Hindu Jījū, his over smart Hindu brother in law, the next managing director of Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, to renew the lease in this way, in front of these valuable witnesses. Whose idea it was? Not Muħammad bin Qāsim’s I think. It must be your own suggestion to the damnfool. Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim requested you to help her foolish brother? How the hell a Vedic Monotheist Hindu can regret to his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife? I sympathize with you, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.

“Umm-Al-Åālmīn, I’m sorry. But I think you can understand my predicament.”

“Love Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim very much?”

“Very much.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled unashamedly.

“Too beautiful?”

“Beyond belief.”

“You idiot, her beauty is actually in your brain. Everyone isn’t as crazy of her, as you are.”

“Tell it to Durgesh also about you dazzling Musalmān Beauties.”

“You are doing it to prove that Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company need you more than you need Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah charged Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.

“Even if you are right, why shouldn’t I do it?”

“Muħammad bin Qāsim has abandoned the property.”

“Oh, no. He hasn’t.”

“Your foolish Musalmān sālā certainly has.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled tartly, “He hasn’t done anything with it for months.”

“I’m making the payment covering deferred drilling. A hundred dollars a month. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s the rate only, you over smart. He had to pay it every month, however, if he wanted to hold the property.”

“Oh, no, Umm-Al-Åālmīn,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand cooed very respectfully, “the lease provided that Muħammad bin Qāsim, my sālā, must pay at that rate every month to keep his drilling rights. Yet there’s another paragraph too that provided that any covenant of any sort in which either party has been in default can be fully performed by the party obligated, at any time within six months, unless in the meantime the lease has been terminated by written notice. You’d better read your lease.”*

The line moved forward.

Automatically Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah moved forward with it.

The man behind Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah said to her,

“Don’t take it.”

Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.

“I want a receipt.”

“Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, you don’t really think I’m that damnfool. Do you?” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed.

“No, but I think you are that honest, Umm-Al-Åālmīn.”

“Of course, I’m that honest. But as a policy, I’m honest with the honest persons only. My Hindu Live in Relationship Partner, Durgesh, is annoyed if I were ever impractical enough to be honest with dishonest ones. ”

“That’s why you sold your property to HVSI even while it was under lease to Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company?”

“A property that was not paying any money to us.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah amended Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand curtly, “You stopped paying rent. Moreover, there weren’t any drilling activities for five continuous months. Why the hell shouldn’t we sell it if we get an excellent price for it?”

“The property was not sold to get the excellent price.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand laughed, “It was sold to provide optimum money to your cousin, Al Tihārat Al Islam, so that she could move in the high society of Ved Nagar to get an appropriate husband for her.”

“I see. You have investigated it fully? And when your dishonest Musalmān sālā, Muħammad bin Qāsim, learned the property has been sold, he has managed to depute you to get for him any share of the sale if he can?”

“Umm-Al-Åālmīn, that’s called business, not dishonesty.”

“The law doesn’t agree with you.”

“On the contrary, the law doesn’t agree with you, Umm-Al-Åālmīn. You signed even the papers two weeks ago without giving any legal notice to Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company. Didn’t you?”

“We own the property, my boy.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah said patronizingly, “We can sell it anytime to anyone whenever we damn please. Go and try to renew your lease with the new owner of the property, if you can. As far as we are concerned your foolish Musalmān sālā Muħammad bin Qāsim abandoned it since five months with no drilling activities whatsoever and not paying any rent for the lease.”

“Does the new owner of the property know about the lease on it?”

“We are not as dishonest and insincere in our dealings as your Musalmān sālā, Muħammad bin Qāsim, is.”

“Well, Mr. Muħammad bin Qāsim doesn’t care anything about it. This is five months’ back rent at one hundred dollars a month―deferred drilling payments. Our lease is with you. You can square things with the other people.”

“If you think I’d accept it, you are crazy.”

“Why won’t you accept it?”

“You know very well. The property is sold since.”

“HVSI has bought it?”

“You know it very well yourself. That’s why your Musalmān sālā, Muħammad bin Qāsim, has suddenly come into action to get something out of the sale of the property if he can.”

Almost reluctantly, the man in the blue pin stripe suit, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, took back the five hundred dollars.

He turned to the man standing in line just behind Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah,

“Would you mind giving me your card, gentleman? I may need a witness.”

The man scowled.

“It’s none of my business. Quit picking on a woman. Shame on you.”

The line moved up, paused, moved again.

“Just a card.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled politely, “All I want is your name and address.”

The last man in the line hesitated a moment then produced a card.

The woman in front of Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah picked up the money that the assistant cashier shoved through the wicket.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah moved into position before the window.

Ved Prakāsh, the bank official, appeared.

He was summoned by the guard.

The guard had actually summoned the Branch Manager.

Coincidentally, Ved Prakāsh, the Financial Administrator of HVSI, was present there.

The Branch Manager was also with his superior.

Ved Prakāsh, the Financial Administrator of HVSI, sized up the faces of the three people that clustered about the window.

Then he asked patiently.

“What’s the trouble, Bhābhījān?”

“Oh, Ved Prakāsh, you? Nothing.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah tried to smile, “I wanted to make a deposit. This gentleman is forcing me to take five hundred dollars.”

“Forcing? What do you mean? Let me please handle it. You mustn’t be here in the line. You should have contacted with the manager, Bhābhī.”

“Well, I thought…”

“You please give me the money. We’d deposit it. You please go with the Branch Manager to his chamber. Dévésh, please escort her to your chamber. Will you please?”

“Sure, sir. Umm-Al-Åālmīn, this way please.” Dévésh, the Branch Manager, requested Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.

“Bhābhī,” Ved Prakāsh, the Financial Administrator of HVSI, complained to Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, “Bhaiyā would never appreciate it. You must never do it again. Please.”

“Well,” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah tried to smile, “Ved Prakāsh, I never imagined…”

“Send someone else. Call me if nobody else is available.”

“Sorry.”

“You must be careful, Bhābhī.”

“Yes, I think so, now. Please don’t tell your Bhaiyā that…”

“That’s impossible. I would personally escort you now to Bhaiyā himself. Let him discipline me too as well.”

“Ved Prakāsh…”

“Sorry, Bhābhī, it’s all now beyond my hands.”

Chapter 7

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Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind–1

Posted: February 7, 2010 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Hudā, Imāmzādī Almās, Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, Judge Shrīkānt M. Āgnéý, Katrina Kaif, Kħadeejah Muħammad, Kħātooné Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadā Fātimā razee Allāhu tåālā ånhā, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåeemah Waħāb, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex | 5 Comments

Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind–1