Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān watched her contemptuously.
“That will do,” he said coldly, “I don’t need a lecture on parental discipline from an unmarried woman. Principles when brought into practice are always modified according to the physical reality of the time and place.”
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ said scornfully.
“I think I’m just beginning to know you actually what you are truthfully.”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān laughed curtly, cunningly and even threateningly somewhat, under the disguise of being practical.
“You don’t know me yet, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ. I want you. You don’t know me enough to understand me that what I want I get. Don’t think you can walk out on me. I’ve noticed lately that you’ve been talking of Durgesh and Hindus more than of us Musalmīn. There’s a trend among you Musalmān young woman to hate us Musalmīn and love Durgesh/Hindus. Perhaps you don’t realize how frequently you are quoting Durgesh. It’s Durgesh this and Durgesh that― remember this, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ, you’ve announced your engagement to me. I refuse to let any woman humiliate me. You’ve promised to marry me and you are going through it.”
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ laughed.
“Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, I sympathize with you. You don’t know how Durgesh would payback you for what you just said. Well, best of luck.”*
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was furious.
Yet he knew his fury was worthless.
Why the hell every woman he is interested in, goes to Durgesh sooner or later?
He had a rare version of ‘Alf Layla wa Layla’, ‘The Thousand and One Nights’.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān didn’t know how authentic that version of ‘Alf Layla wa Layla’, ‘The Thousand and One Nights’ was.
He had gone through an English translation of the same too named ‘Arabian Nights’.
It was originally translated by Sir Richard Francis Burton.
It was adapted with an afterword by Jack Zipes with a new introduction by Daniel Beaumont.
Daniel Beaumont had written in his introduction:
‘…On the basis of these facts, and the internal evidence of the stories themselves, there is general agreement that an Arabic translation of a Persian story collection formed the core of the Nights.
The Persian collection itself probably began as a translation of an Indian collection―the device of a frame tale itself is often considered an Indian literary device.
The Arabic translation was probably made in Baghdad in the eighth or ninth century, when Baghdad was the center of a vast translation project funded by Abbasid caliphs.’
―Arabian Nights: Volume 1: Signet Classics: Edition 2007: Introduction Page viii.
The edition Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had, proved Daniel Beaumont’s this conclusion true.
It said the nude male Sex Partner that was actually in the arms of Shah Zaman’s nude queen was not any black cook with crude features, smeared with kitchen grease and grime, but Durgesh himself.
Of course, the authenticity of the version Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had was always heavily criticized, but Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān still believed that it was the original Indian version that Daniel Beaumont had referred to.
That version also said that King Shahryar could actually never kill his any wife.
Durgesh always rescued her either this way or that.
Even Scheherazade was herself Durgesh’s girlfriend actually that helped Durgesh in rescuing the poor helpless innocent Musalmān Beauties Shahryar was so vowed to kill crazily.
For a moment Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s fingers were as if steel on Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ’s wrists, his eyes were deadly.
And then almost instantly, the mask came back.
For Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, of course, it wasn’t any mask.
It was his sophisticated practical behavior instead.
Yet, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ thought she knew him better.
He said contritely, regretfully.
“I’m sorry. I think I shouldn’t bother you with these things when you are in hurry. Come dear, I’ll take you to your psychiatrist clinic. I’m really sorry about my son, Muħammad Jamīl, too. I’m sorry again if I hurt you even a little bit. Yet, you see, I happen to know my son, Muħammad Jamīl, quite well, better than you actually, naturally. I think, moreover, I know exactly how he should be handled.”
That night, after giving the matter a lot of thought, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ wrote a formal e-mail breaking her engagement to Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.*
Three nights later she went out with me openly, for the first time.
We went out to the restaurant that I knew was Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ’s favorite.
There wasn’t any incident whatsoever.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ sighed relieved.
She never thought any Musalmān could be as patient and sophisticated as to let his ex-fiancée get away from him so easily.
Being generally losers mostly, due to their immensely ever scorned communalism, unsophisticated, undemocratic behavior, their criminal activities, under education/uneducation, Musalmīn usually never took ‘no’ from ladies so normally.
It was more severe when the Musalmīn lost their Musalmān fiancée, girlfriend, to a successful Hindu/Durgesh.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had too threatened her already to the effect.
Two nights later, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān called to ask if he might talk with Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ.
“It won’t do any good,” Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ told Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, “Anyway, I’m already going out tonight.”
“I see. With Durgesh, I think.”
“Stop being jealous of Durgesh. Durgesh is not being favored by me, he is obliging me, instead.”
“I know it’s not easy for any communal Musalmān to digest the fact that any Musalmān Beauty is preferring a Hindu male on him. Yet, the Musalmīn must understand it’s none of their business, damn it.”
It was very difficult for Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān to control himself.
He immensely hated the Musalmān houseladies who never understood how disgraceful it was for the Musalmīn that a Musalmān houselady prefer a Hindu on a Musalmān.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān wanted to break the beautiful neck of Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ actually, but he knew he couldn’t do it.
Durgesh, of course, would never break Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s neck for it.
He is a softie, so called law abiding, citizen.
All the cowards that don’t have enough courage to fulfill their own needs, fighting with the persons that come in their way, call themselves softie.
They aren’t softie actually.
They are bloody cowards.
They criticize most of the Musalmīn because most of the Musalmīn aren’t cowards.
A Musalmān, and coward?
Let them call us criminal minded, and criminal even.
But no Musalmān can surrender to cowardice ever.
It’s against his/her self-respect.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān understands Durgesh perfectly.
He is a softie, a coward actually.
He can’t fight with anyone as a man should ever.
He always fights feminine.
Most of the time he keeps fucking Musalmān Beauties, beautiful Musalmān houseladies and other beautiful women even.
It has made Durgesh himself somewhat feminine in his entire approach.
He calls it to be law abiding.
Hiding behind law.
Durgesh would create some entirely legal situation for Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān that would make him to think even it would have been better if Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had died instead.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ had said curtly,
“It’s none of your business,” she snapped and slammed the phone back to its cradle.
Later on, when the phone rang repeatedly, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ didn’t even answer it.
I went for Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ promptly at eight.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ once more couldn’t believe I was really thirty seven.
She thought I wasn’t more than twenty eight.
Allah, how handsome I was.
Medium height, not too tall not too small.
Handsomely in between, an obsession to both the tall Beauties and smaller Beauties.
Neither too small to be a disgrace for tall women, nor too tall to make smaller women ashamed of their comparatively smaller height.
Both were crazy for Durgesh desperately.
What a man.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ loved my expressive eyes.
We both went once more to the same restaurant.
There wasn’t any delay in table reservation.
Yet, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ suggested to stand for some time in the cocktail lounge.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ didn’t see Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān until it was too late, nor could she swear afterward that Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had actually thrust out his foot so that I might stumble.
There were plenty of witnesses to what happened after that.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had fallen disgraced.
He got to his feet, said,
“Watch who you’re pushing,” and tried to hit me flush on my jaw.
I moved from there lightning.
To Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s ‘bad luck’, his fist fell on a prize boxer’s jaw.
He took Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān on his own fists furiously.
Someone telephoned police.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was beaten publicly too disgracefully, his jaw was broken and he was arrested even for starting it all.
The prize boxer reported it was an attempt to kill him.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān shouted that the prize boxer was on my payroll.
But he couldn’t prove the same.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ laughed at him.
“You should have been more careful of Durgesh, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān. Your conspiracy has backfired. Now, go to the prison on attempt to murder a prize boxer.”*
There was a commotion, with waiters swarming around them, and eventually the police.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was certain she had seen a glint of metal as Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s right hand had flashed across in that carefully timed, planned to be perfectly executed smash.
The surgeon who wired the prize fighter’s broken jaw was confident the injuries had been caused by brass knuckles.
So many persons claimed to witness that as the prize fighter went down with a broken jaw, two of the friends of Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, who were seated at the table, jumped up to grab his arms.
“Take it easy, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān,” one of them said.
The police hadn’t searched Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān only.
When they didn’t find any brass knuckles on Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, they searched his friend as well.
He himself volunteered to let the police search him.
Yet, the police authorities were not born yesterday.
They sarcastically asked Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān of his second friend.
He had tried to disappear before the police came.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān explained that his second friend that had tried to disappear had had an engagement.
He didn’t want to be detained by a lot of formalities.
He would be available, however, if anybody tried to make anything of it.
He too was searched.
The prize fighter’s friends had succeeded in holding him against his desperate attempts to get rid of them.
He had the brass knuckles containing the prize fighter’s blood on it.
The police arrested his friends as well, as the coconspirators.*
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s story was simple.
He had been sitting with his friends.
His back was to the door.
I, in passing, had not only stepped on his foot, but had kicked back at his shin too.
He had got to his feet.
I had doubled my fist.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān admitted he had tried unsuccessfully to beat me to the punch.
What the hell else could he do?
A week after that, his sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, began to get the letters:
‘Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s sweet sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I am writing this letter to you because if I don’t, I will surely go crazy with what I am feeling for you.
I also have to trust that you do not share this letter with anyone because your brother, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, would get into a great deal of more trouble if you did.
So my beautiful Musalmān young lady, if you cannot keep this letter a secret between you and me you should not read any further.
DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS MY SWEET UNLESS YOU PROMISE TO KEEP IT OUR SECRET
I had a dream about you Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, right after you turned 28, and the memory of that dream has brought forward all kinds of sexual thoughts I have had for you for many years.
I was thinking lustful thoughts about what we could do with each other if we became lovers.
I decided to walk past your room to go to my office one evening after you went to bed.
As I passed I heard some noise coming from your room.
That is what this note is about.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, do you remember the day I walked into your room without knocking and caught you playing with your extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
You had turned 28 a month earlier.
I think I was as surprised as you.
But I cannot forget how sexy you looked with your beautiful young Musalmān legs spread wide and your fingers rolling your extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips and clit round and round.
Your other hand was massaging your big sexy Musalmān breasts.
I watched you pinch your nipples and suck one nipple into your mouth.
I was so impressed with how big and firm you Musalmān breasts are.
I wanted to hop into the bed with you and make love to you on the spot.
I have to confess, I stood there watching you for about half a minute before you opened your eyes and screamed with your embarrassment.
Yes, my beautiful Musalmān young lady; I was watching you and getting so hot from looking at you play with your sexy pretty little extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
My Uncut Hindu Lund got so hard and swollen from watching my beautiful Musalmān young lady.
I had to fuck your Bhābhījān, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, four times that day just because of what I saw.
I could not get the thought of you out of my head.
I fantasized squirting my hot Hindu cum into your extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Then I asked you to lick all my Hindu cum off my Uncut Hindu Lund and show it to me while it lie in your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
In my fantasy you opened your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and rolled my Hindu cum around your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue, smiled and swallowed it.
Then you opened your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth to show me you had swallowed my entire hot Hindu load.
That night I even thought about coming into your room while you were sleeping and uncovering you to see if you slept without panties.
I did go into your room but decided I was being a very bad Hindu fucking you unknowingly, and I could not get beyond that.
What would you do if I did come into your room some night?
I need to know.
I will assume you did not read the letter unless you answer me.
Durgesh, I knew you were watching me.
Why do you think the door was ajar and I had no covers on?
I’ve noticed you checking me out, almost drooling as I bend over when I pick something up.
I could hear the door open.
I acted surprised just in case I was wrong.
I want you.
I have never let a boy touch my sweet extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I am saving it for you
My sweet beautiful young daughter Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān,
I am overwhelmed with desire and lust for you.
I cannot think of anything but you and how hot and sexy you looked while touching yourself.
You made a confession to me and told me that you left the door unlocked and had uncovered yourself on purpose.
You wanted me to find you playing with your virgin extremely beautiful young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I am glad you told me this because I have to confess something to you as well.
I am sure you will remember this.
How could you ever forget?
Remember the night when I went out with some of my Musalmān friends fucking their beautiful Musalmān houseladies, because I was feeling lonely after your Ammī left us.
That was exactly two weeks after we had your 28th birthday party at Applebee’s with your friends.
I was not driving.
Yet, I was too vivacious fucking my Musalmān friends’ beautiful countless Musalmān houseladies that even you had to help me into the house.
I vaguely remember you watching something on the downstairs TV when they brought me in.
They brought me up to my bedroom, removed my shoes and left me.
I was able to take off the rest of my clothing and crashed into the bed.
I fell into a rather deep sleep.
You came into my room much later that night.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, after your confession to me about wanting to masturbate in front of me I know I did not dream it.
You walked in and looked at me.
You saw me sleeping in the nude, on my back as usual.
I know what you did.
I was not 100% sure until I got your note.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh, my God. I wish I could go back and relive that night again only totally sober this time.
After you came in you checked to see if I was sleeping.
I did not want to talk with you.
I made you believe, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I was sleeping.
You stood over me and looked at my naked Hindu male body for a minute or two.
Then you did something that was so pleasantly shocking to me.
You reached down with your delicate hand and touched my Uncut Hindu Lund!
It felt like an erotic electric shock running through my whole body.
My first instinct was to reprimand you for touching me because you had stepped way out of the acceptable boundaries between a Hindu male and an orthodox ardent Musalmān young lady.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I hope you can forgive me for not stopping you, but I guess I was too selfish to do that.
You see, even when you were 18 I thought about what it would be like to share my love for you in a physical way.
You are so beautiful, so pretty, and so hot.
I watched you grow from a little sweet girl into a sexy, hot young Musalmān woman.
I have to admit to you that after your Ammī left us, to return to your Abbū, I started to think about what it would be like to have YOU as my wife.
I fantasized being with you every day and felt like a grand man because of those carnal feeling for you.
I was so careful not to say anything to you about my feeling.
So Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s sweet sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, please forgive me for not stopping you that night.
You started to pump my Uncut Hindu Lund and were immediately rewarded with it getting hard and swollen.
I was peeking through my eyes and had such a difficult time making you believe I was sleeping.
You looked so curious when stroking it.
Then you noticed a drop of my pre-cum on the swollen purple/red head of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I almost came because of what you did next.
You took your finger and wiped the pre-cum of my Uncut Hindu Lund and brought it to your nose to smell it.
Then you licked it off your finger and tasted it.
You swallowed that little dollop of my Hindu cum with a smile on your tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
You know what you did next.
You bent over and still holding my Uncut Hindu Lund in your hand you smelled my Hindu manhood.
You put your nose into my balls and took a deep sniff.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! My Lord, I wanted to reach out with my hands and take your tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face in my hands and shower you with my Hindu kisses while telling you I was in love with you.
I am in love not platonic, but rather in love with you as a woman; my woman.
I wanted to tell you I would do anything for your love to be returned.
Again, I was too unsure to bare my feelings to you.
I was cautious and really felt you were just curious to see what a man’s Uncut Hindu Lund and balls looked and felt like.
I thought you felt safe that nothing would happen to you because I was as if somewhat your “Daddy”, as I fucked your Ammī too already, and even if I woke up I would not do anything sexual with you.
When you licked my Uncut Hindu Lund head I thought I had gone straight to heaven.
My Uncut Hindu Lund started to pulse and get even bigger.
I was so hot.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, I can honestly say I have never been hotter in my life then you got me that night.
You were so tentative with your young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue when you started; so unsure so innocent.
I knew you were tasting my Hindu manhood, deciding if you liked the smell and taste of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I got my answer very shortly when you put my Uncut Hindu Lund head into your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth. You sucked it like a lollipop at first and got frightened because you heard me moan.
I tried not to, but with Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s sweet sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth rapped around my Uncut Hindu Lund, I could not stop the moan from coming out.
I was cautious you would run out of the room for fear of me waking up.
I covered it by moaning again without your hand or mouth on my Uncut Hindu Lund.
You thought I was just moaning in my sleep and went back to your naughty sexual work.
You were sucking my big hard Uncut Hindu Lund off, wildly, ravenously, proudly.
It didn’t take you long to realize how sensitive the rim of my Uncut Hindu Lund head is.
You started to roll your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue round and round it.
I knew I was going to cum soon and wanted to tell you, but I knew that was not possible because you wanted me to be asleep.
That made you feel safe and secure, knowing you would not get in trouble for the naughty things you were doing with your ever loser Musalmān brother’s Hindu enemy’s Uncut Hindu Lund.
You continued to suck and stroke me until I could not hold it back any longer.
You were so surprised by the amount of jest that shot from the slit in my Uncut Hindu Lund head.
You tried to keep it all in your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, but you were overwhelmed by it.
Some of it dripped out of your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and fell on your belly.
Some more ran down your tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth to your neck.
I was sneaking a look at you when I came so I know what happened.
What was absolutely amazing to me was that you swallowed my Hindu cum! Your Ammī never would do that. I felt closer and more intimate with you at that moment then I have ever felt with even your Ammī in my life.
You got up and went to your bathroom after that and came back with a warm wash cloth and cleaned the cum off of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
The last things you did made me cry with pure joy.
You gently bent down and planted a sweet kiss on your brother’s Hindu enemy’s Uncut Hindu Lund and then kissed me sweetly on my male Hindu lips.
After I woke that morning I thought I had had a very erotic dream about you.
When I saw you in the kitchen that morning you had a very knowing smile on your tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
I thought that was your way of trying to be the lady of the house dealing with a Hindu man who went out and fucked other beautiful Musalmān houseladies of your brother, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, last night.
I now know better.
His 28 year old extremely beautiful Musalmān sister was a very naughty and smart girl last night with her ever loser Musalmān brother’s Hindu enemy.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s 28 years old extremely beautiful Musalmān sister sucked My Uncut Hindu Lund off and swallowed my Hindu cum.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muħammad Jamīl was dumbfounded.
He couldn’t believe he was talking to a homebreaker, a marriage breaker.
He could not believe he was talking to his wife fucker.
He was optimum prepared to deal with his wife fucker, a man that had fallen from accepted social morals and humanity.
Muħammad Jamīl was appropriately prepared to discuss his wife fucker’s immoral conduct, but was Durgesh really immoral in fucking his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār?
On the contrary, Muħammad Jamīl himself is immoral in trying to stop Durgesh from fucking his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār.
He is telling him to divorce his wife for Durgesh.
What a man.
Muħammad Jamīl was prepared to impeach an extremely communal, extremely anti-Muslim immoral Hindu.
But on the contrary Durgesh himself was impeaching him, Muħammad Jamīl himself, for not providing optimum sex to his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār.
Durgesh was telling him he would provide Muħammad Jamīl’s ever ravenous extremely attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār, as much sex as she needs ever.
What the hell is wrong in it?
Why the hell for Muħammad Jamīl needs his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār?
For getting slapped by her every now and then?
For being kicked with her feet almost daily, even two or three times a day?
Isn’t it immensely disgraceful to him?
His extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār, is an ever dominant ever aggressive woman.
Everyone knows it.
She is a wonderfully successful psychiatrist.
How lucky Muħammad Jamīl was that his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār, married him.
“You’ve actually a deep set inferiority complex, Muħammad Jamīl.” his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ħafsah Al Nisār, had said when he met her before their marriage, “Yet, you aren’t incurable absolutely. I can cure you.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Muħammad Jamīl beamed at her, “So, you’d marry me?”
Al Ħafsah Al Nisār smiled.
“What for? You’ve yourself admitted to me that you never succeeded in lovemaking with anyone.”
“Isn’t premarital sex a sin, a gunāh-e-åzīm in Islam?”
“That’s the root. It is incurably deep set faith of most of us Musalmīn that premarital sex, extramarital sex, LGBT, everything sexy out of wedlock is a sin, a gunāh-e-åzīm in Islam. In your case, it’s the root cause of your inferiority complex. Until and unless you don’t marry someone who understands your problem, sympathize with you and is kind enough to marry you despite all your shortcomings, to cure you, your inferiority complex cannot be cured. You say you watch your entire Musalmān houseladies having sex with Durgesh and clean them, licking their genital organs, after Durgesh fucks them? When did it start?”*
Muħammad Jamīl looked at her gravely.
Allah, how can he tell her?
Was it a blunder not to marry Al Jihād fil Islām?
Al Jihād fil Islām was too a psychiatrist.
She was more generous to Muħammad Jamīl.
Only if Muħammad Jamīl hadn’t hated psychiatrists so much!
Every woman in his household was a successful psychiatrist.
And Muħammad Jamīl was paying for it.
His Ammī, Al Kausar Al Firdaus, herself was a psychiatrist.
And what has she made him?
How the hell could Muħammad Jamīl tell Al Ħafsah Al Nisār his own Ammī made him what Muħammad Jamīl was today?
No one believed him ever even whenever he mustered the courage to tell the truth about his household.
Even Al Jihād fil Islām accused him defaming his own Musalmān houseladies.
“Are you crazy?” Al Jihād fil Islām was dumbfounded, “You mean to say your own Ammī cuckolded your Abbū, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, to herself and Durgesh?”
Muħammad Jamīl looked at him gravely.
“You don’t believe me?”
“Ask yourself.” Al Jihād fil Islām said, “Would you believe it if someone of your friends tell you his Ammī deliberately made his Abbū impotent so that she could continue her sex life with a Muslimātchod Hindu?”
“Doubtlessly,” Muħammad Jamīl exploded uncontrollably, “You are a hell of a psychiatrist if you don’t know the horrible facts of our own Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“You are succumbing to blasphemy.” Al Jihād fil Islām said sympathetically, “Muħammad Jamīl, your inferiority complex is more complex than I thought it was. You enjoy blasphemy actually.”
“How?” Muħammad Jamīl argued bitterly.
Allah, won’t even an immensely successful psychiatrist believe him?
Are his extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies correct?
They challenged him humiliating him more and more,
“Tell everyone if you can really muster the courage to do it. No one would believe you, moron. Everyone would claim it’s your ever dirtiest fantasy that your own Ammī, the highly successful psychiatrist, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, made your Abbū impotent deliberately. Your own Ammī, the highly successful psychiatrist, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, brought you up making you lick her, and your sisters’ genital organs after Durgesh fucked them. They made you to masturbate watching them bonded to Durgesh, abused sexually nonstop, on their own request to Durgesh. Go ahead. Muster the courage enough to tell everyone the real truth. We dare you.”*
With the politeness that characterized everything he did, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said to Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ,
“Excuse me, please.”
Then he leaned forward and slapped the child, Muħammad Jamīl’s, face―hard.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was startled.
She could not believe what she herself saw with her own eyes.
The child was already suffering from immense inferiority complex.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, Muħammad Jamīl’s real Ammī, herself requested Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ to take care of him.
“I don’t believe my husband, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, for my son’s proper care. He never believed Muħammad Jamīl is his son. He thinks Durgesh is Muħammad Jamīl’s real father.”
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ laughed.
“We can’t blame him for that. Nowadays, almost every Musalmān who has a beautiful Musalmān wife, invariably suspects she has extramarital sexual relationship with Durgesh/some clandestine Hindu lover. It’s so natural today that…”
“Are you telling me? Are you really telling me?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus shouted desperately, “Most of us Musalmān Beauties, Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful are being hated by Musalmīn for this immensely irrational suspicion. They scorn us only because we are beautiful, and they can’t believe we don’t take any benefit of our immensely incredible Musalmān beauty.”
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ suddenly realized Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was telling the seven years old Muħammad Jamīl,
“Little gentleman, don’t interrupt when people are talking. Didn’t your ever cheating Ammī told you that ever?”
Then Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān settled back in his chair, lit a cigar, turned to Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ and said,
“As you were saying…?”
But Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ couldn’t go on.
She was looking at the hurt eyes of the child Muħammad Jamīl, and realized suddenly that that wasn’t the first time Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, his ‘father’(?), had slapped him like that.
What a luck this seven years old child, Muħammad Jamīl, has!
If he really had been Durgesh’s son, he would have never been suffering from any degradation.
Durgesh would have broken Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s hand itself for what he had done to his son.
But only because Durgesh wasn’t Muħammad Jamīl’s father, the child was suffering from everything worst for him.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ has seen the skyrocketing facilities Durgesh’s sons get.
Their father is a multi-zillionaire.
He loves his sons immeasurably.
But Muħammad Jamīl hasn’t done anything that could justify his sufferings.
What the hell could Muħammad Jamīl, a seven years old boy do, if his Ammī, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, hated Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān?
Shouldn’t the Musalmān houseladies, however innocent they are, think of their own children more realistically?
Yes, their own life is itself important.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ never holds it’s not.
But on the cost of their own offspring?
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ couldn’t digest it.
Humiliated, fighting back bitter tears in order to be “a little man” the boy, Muħammad Jamīl, turned away, paused in the doorway to say,
“Excuse me, please,”
Then left the room.
“That’s his Ammī’s influence,” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān explained, “Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, my immensely self-respecting Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, believes in discipline from a theoretical standpoint, but she can’t be bothered putting it into practical execution. Whenever Muħammad Jamīl returns from visiting with his Ammī, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, in Ved Nagar, it’s a job getting him back on the beam. He starts behaving as if he isn’t a Musalmān boy at all, rather a Hindu boy instead. He starts offering Stavans instead of Salawāt.”
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ suddenly saw Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān in his true character.
The indolent, idle, smiling politeness, the affable courtesy of his manner, was a mask.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus was right.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān wasn’t as a good man as he presented himself socially.
Beneath the partially contemptuous, partially amused but always deliberate ostensibly polite manner, with which Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān regarded the world, was a sadistic streak, a sadistic inherent behavior, an inherent selfishness that covered itself with a veneer, a layer, of extreme politeness.
Now, Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ could see why Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus deserted Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.
He wasn’t anywhere in comparison with Durgesh.
Both of them, Durgesh and Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān, were immensely successful psychiatrists.
Yet, Durgesh was a grand human being.
The communal Musalmīn were really jealous of their beautiful Musalmān womankind and Durgesh that they always blamed them for their sexual orientation.
In fact, Durgesh was a better, sincere and honest human being too.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus was lucky that she could influence Durgesh sexually and could get rid of this beast that isn’t human even now.
Abruptly Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was on her feet, stunned not only by her discovery, but by the clarity with which her new realization of Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s character came into mental focus.*
My deep voice sent another shiver coursing over Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s skin and made Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s nipples tighten in aching need.
Even though it embarrassed her to the core, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah loved hearing me call her that.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah moaned in response, My Uncut Hindu Lund still working at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit, pinching at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s nipples.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s eyes drifted down my body, taking in my stunning, well-muscled Hindu male form and finally came to rest on my crotch again.
I brought my other hand over and undid the button on my jeans.
I teased her as I pulled the zipper down with agonizing slowness, making me hold Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breath in anticipation of being able to gaze on my fully erect Hindu monster.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah licked her lips, anxious to spy the Hindu object of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān desire.*
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ said,
“I’m afraid I’m going to leave you now. I have some work that I simply can’t avoid. I have an appointment with a very important patient of mine.”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān stood up beside her.
“You never told me of that.”
“What do you mean? I am telling you now.”
“Isn’t it rather sudden?” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān looked at her in a disapproved suspicion.
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you that prior.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān asked looking at her suspiciously.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān hesitated then somewhat, just as he had hesitated for a moment before slapping the child, Muħammad Jamīl.
Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ felt Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān gathering forces for an onslaught.
“I thought you were stronger. I’m surprised to find out that you couldn’t take it.” It came out without any preliminary whatsoever.
“I couldn’t take what?” Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ found herself now incapable to control even.
What a beast.
He isn’t even repenting that he slapped the child unnecessarily.
He isn’t realizing even now that it wasn’t any discipline at all whatsoever.
It was an outright cruelty instead.
A person that could be so cruel to his own child, what can he do to others.
And she was going to marry this beast?
Well, not now.
“You couldn’t take disciplining a child.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān smiled curtly, “It was for his own benefit. Why the hell you softies never try to understand it?”
“Why the hell you ‘hardies’ understand yourselves it isn’t being ‘softie’ at all? It’s being humane, just, sophisticated.”
“No! It isn’t nonsense at all. I am not a softie. There are more humane, psychological, just and sophisticated ways of disciplining a child.” Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ said curtly herself now, “Muħammad Jamīl is a sensitive boy. He is already suffering from the unjust cruelty of his Ammī, as you say. Nevertheless, he’s still intelligent and proud. You claim his Ammī was deliberately bringing him up devoid of self-respect. She wanted Muħammad Jamīl to enslave to her. That’s why the court awarded Muħammad Jamīl’s custody to you. Yet, what you yourself are doing?
“You could have waited until I had left and explained to him that it wasn’t gentlemanly to interrupt, then Muħammad Jamīl would have accepted the correction more appropriately.
“You didn’t do that, nevertheless. You humiliated your own son instead in front of me, his potential would be Ammī. You undermined his self respect deliberately, because you don’t think he is your son. Despite your claim in the court you still suspect he is Durgesh’s son. Don’t you?”*
“You’re so ready for it, aren’t you honey?” I said softly.
“Yes Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah replied breathlessly, needily.
I smiled as I hooked my thumbs into the waist band of my boxer briefs and slowly inched them down.
I was teasing her mercilessly, almost doing a striptease for her, as I pushed down the front of my jocks, exposing first the black colored hair of my pubis.
The material inched lower; next exposing the hard rounded ridge where my thick, stiffened Uncut Hindu Lund met my body.
I pushed it down so my Uncut Hindu Lund moved with the material, uncovering only a small fraction at a time of my enormous Hindu length.
Her fingers worked madly over Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot, delving inside and retreating back to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit to circle and tease.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was right on the brink of ecstasy, so close to falling over the crest of climax and into the world of orgasm it was maddening.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was desperately trying to hold Herself back but I wasn’t making it easy on her.
Finally, I pushed the material down far enough that the swollen head of my Uncut Hindu Lund twanged free, setting my rigid Uncut Hindu Lund bobbing.
I used a hand to gently pull my engorged Hindu length and tightening balls up as I allowed the waist band of my briefs to come back against my body, tucking them up snugly Behind my balls.
The Hindu male skin stretched taut with the pressure and I slowly began to stroke them, kneading them in my palm.
Not groaning even low in my throat, I wrapped my thumb and forefinger around my hardened Hindu pole and gently began to pull myself off, all the while watching her and what Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was doing.
One hand travelled from breast to breast, tweaking and pinching at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hard nipples, squeezing the full fleshy orbs of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s boobs, while the other worked tirelessly on Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Stroking, circling, rubbing.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah groaned and panted, uncaring that Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was acting like the Musalmān sex goddess I kept calling her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wanted my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her so desperately Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could hardly think.
My strokes became longer and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could see the sheen of pre-cum that oozed from the tip.
I used a fingertip to smear it all around the bulbous head, again teasing her at every opportunity, knowing how much Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wanted to lick it off of mine.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah heard my low voice,
“Mmm, soon honey, soon. But first you have to cum for me. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I want to watch your ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot cream. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I want to see it squirt out of you like I know it will, all over your fingers and all over the sheet. Then, if Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I thought it was good enough, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I might let you suck on My Uncut Hindu Lund for a while. Might let you lick off all this immensely tasty Hindu pre-cum that you like so much.”*
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah groaned hard and her fingers redoubled their efforts to bring her to fulfilment.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah rubbed her ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit vigorously, back and forth, round and round, always just on the brink of annihilation.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt her orgasm build.
It was going to be a big one.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could feel that strange sensation of all Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s insides being drawn down to the central point of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s nipples screwed up tighter and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s knees involuntarily lifted themselves off the bed as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah arched her back high.
The most primal of sexual sounds issued forth from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat, letting me know Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was seconds away from blowing her top off.
“Oh yeah, that’s it Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, cum for me honey, that’s Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s good young adult Musalmān sex goddess.”
It was just what Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah needed to hear to push her over the edge.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hips lifted off the bed, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s legs tensed, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breath caught in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s orgasm broke like a flood gate bursting.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt hercum gush out, coating the tops of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī smooth thighs with the force of release and ruining the sheets.
Her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body convulsed as the aftermath of the event coursed through her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s limbs twitched and shook.
“Oh honey, that was so good to watch. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I knew you were a squirter.” I told her.
I released my Uncut Hindu Lund as I moved from the foot of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s bed and slowly made my way toward Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s top half.
I put one knee on the bed near Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s elbow and leant over her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body, leaning in to press my hot lips to hers.
My tongue sought access into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young willing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and I kissed her hard.
It was the first overly sexual thing I’d done to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah since our tryst this morning.
My hands didn’t touch her, just my lips, and it was a heady sensation as Her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body cooled.
I pulled back from the kiss, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth tried to follow, and I smiled gently at her as I stared into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s extremely beautiful young Musalmān face.
My fingers brushed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hair back from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s face and I gently stroked along Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s cheek to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
I trailed my fingertips along Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s parted lips.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah desperately wanted to take my fingers into her young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth and suck on them, to stick Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tongue out and lick them, but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah remained still, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah kept Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tongue in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
I smiled at her again, knowing that Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah remembered what I’d told her last night.
“Mmm, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, you are my good young adult Musalmān sex goddess, aren’t you?” I asked her knowingly in my sexy low voice.
I already knew the answer and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah knew Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t really need to answer me, but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah did anyway, for the first time looking directly into my eyes.
With a faint tint of rose brushing Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s cheeks, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said,
“Yes, Mr. Durgesh,” and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah meant it.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam