That evening at dinner, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, her husband,
“Honey, I want to go to spring break with Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār. She and Shankar Mahāpralayankar are going to Fort Lauderdale.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, grimaced. “Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, I don’t want to spend my vacation with a bunch of wild college kids.”
“I know you don’t,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid answered with a smile. “We’ll go on our regular vacation in the summer. Spring break is just for me.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband’s eyebrows raised.
“You want to go to spring break alone?”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid shook her head.
“Not alone. With my friend Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and her boyfriend Shankar Mahāpralayankar. And with Durgesh.”
“Durgesh?” Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, looked at me smirking his wife. “Dad! Have you listened to your overzealous Bahū Bégum? Do you want to go to spring break with her? If you are free to accompany her, I mean. If you don’t have any other more important work at your hand.” He thought about his question for just a Moment, then said, “Stupid question. All 65-year-old fathers in law want to go to anywhere to protect their daughters in law if their inconsiderate husbands don’t understand how necessary it is to go with their wives.” Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, looked back and forth between me and Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid for a minute then said, “Alright. I don’t see any reason why not. The two of you can take care of each other and make sure you don’t get into trouble.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid squealed, jumped up and hugged Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, “Thank you, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd! Durgesh and I will take good care of each other.”
She didn’t tell him that her friends thought I was her husband, and she was sure I wasn’t going to say anything.
It was too strange to mention.*
The morning we were to leave for spring break, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid kissed Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, goodbye at the door.
He was going to play golf with his friends.
The damn fool.
“Thanks again for letting me go,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid said.
“You’re welcome. Have fun but don’t drink too much and don’t do drugs,” he urged.
“We won’t,” she assured him.
One more kiss and he left.
She closed the door and turned to me.
“Ready for a fun week, Durgesh? We are husband and wife now for one week. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. This should be a blast.”
She hugged me and looked up into my eyes.
I was about 4 inches taller.
“No more calling me Bahū Bégum’, dummy,” she scolded. “I’m your wife this week, remember? You have to call me Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. Say it. Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.”
“Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.”
“Good,” she replied, and then kissed me on the lips.
I jerked back from her. “What was that?!” I yelped.
“Practice,” she told me. “And you failed. We’re supposed to be married. If you act like that when we kiss, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār will know something is up!”
“Why do we have to kiss?”
“We’re married. Married couples kiss. Particularly young married couples. Let’s try it again.” She planted another kiss on my lips. I held myself rigid for a minute, then finally gave in and returned the kiss a little.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid broke the kiss and pouted.
“You didn’t freak out this time, but it still wasn’t good, Durgesh. This is important to me, honey. Please don’t ruin spring break for me. Try a little harder, okay?” she pleaded.
She knew I’d do anything for her when she really needed it.
I dipped her and gave her a huge dramatic smooch.
“Better?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid came up laughing.
“Maybe a little too much.” She hugged me tight. “Thank you for helping me fit in with my college friends, honey.”
“No problem.” She gave me another quick peck on the lips before Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar pulled into our driveway.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār was a cute little brunette, shorter than Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and kind of chunky.
But she had a bubbly personality just like Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s and I could see why they were friends.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a big strong dude.
A couple inches smaller than me and heavier with muscles.
He was a cool guy and we got along well right away.
“Do y’all own that house?” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār asked, staring at the impressive family home. “How can you afford it?”
“I have an inheritance from my grandfather,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid explained.
“Wow,” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār marveled. “So you bought this place for you and Durgesh?”
“Yep,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid replied. “As soon as Durgesh obliged me by accepting my proposal, we married and I moved him in with me.” She winked at me.
“So you’re married and have a house and your lovely Musalmān wife is still in high school?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar asked me.
“Yeah,” I smiled.
“Cool,” he responded with admiration.
It was Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s SUV and he felt most comfortable driving.
He drove for 3 hours, and then took a break while Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār drove for an hour or so.
Then he drove again.
It was fine with me.
I think driving is boring.
I dozed off on the back seat, and when I woke, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was stretched out on the seat with her head on my lap.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār noticed that I was awake and softly said,
“You two are so cute together. It’s obvious how much she loves you.”
I smiled proudly.
“Thanks. I really love her too.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid must have been awake because she cheerfully said,
“That’s so sweet, honey.” She reached up and pulled my head down to hers.
Her lips met mine in a scorching kiss that lasted for at least a minute and left me breathless with a great Hindu erection too.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!
I started suspecting her hidden intentions now.
It wasn’t an act.
It was really a kiss from a woman that, loved me womanly tremendously, desperately and wildly.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār giggled.
“I think you dazed him with that one, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled too and scooted up to sit on my lap. “That’s the way I like him best, dazed and confused, and I work hard to keep him that way,” she teased.
Her head rested on my shoulder.
A pretty Musalmān girl on my Hindu male lap always felt good, no doubt.
I loosely wrapped my arms around her waist and we snuggled.
“Aww, so cute,” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār cooed from the front seat.
It was close to midnight when we finally made it to Fort Lauderdale. When we checked in, I was stunned to learn that we all were sharing one room.
“We don’t have our own room?” I asked Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.
“No, silly. That’s the whole reason Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār invited us. To split the cost of the room so she and Shankar Mahāpralayankar could afford to come. There’s nothing wrong with a man and wife sharing a room with another couple,” she dismissed my concerns.
My eyes boggled.
“You don’t mind sharing a bed with me?” I whispered, almost reproachfully.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid looked at me puzzled, then reached out and tousled my hair.
“Stop being silly. This week we’re married, so it’s fine. Now get with the program, Durgesh. If you don’t start acting like a loving husband, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar will know something is wrong.”
While Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar were occupied, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid stepped outside to call home and let Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, know we arrived safely.
We went to the room, and I tried to act natural.
We were all exhausted so we got ready for bed.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid wore an oversize t-shirt to bed, and I wore a t-shirt and boxer shorts.
We got into our beds and turned out the light.
It wasn’t long before I heard noises from the other bed.
I guess Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār couldn’t keep their hands off each other, even though we were right there.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar huffed like a locomotive and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār made weird little squeaking noises.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and I both turned on our sides, with our backs to Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
“Eep, eep, eep!” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār’s funny little squeaks continued as Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked her.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid started giggling at the crazy situation, and then Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār started giggling too.
“I can’t help it,” the Musalmān blonde laughed, still in the midst of fucking. “Those noises just come out.”
That made Shankar Mahāpralayankar laugh, and then me too.
It removed the tension from the room.
When they were done fucking, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār said,
“Sorry for embarrassing you guys, but I really needed that.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid replied. “You’re on vacation and we’re all adults. Have fun.”
“Thanks, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. If you and Durgesh want to do it too, go right ahead,” she said with a giggle.
“I think we’ll just sleep, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār. Goodnight.”*
When I woke, I was spooned against Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s back.
We were still on our sides, but I must have snuggled up to her in the night.
My arm was draped over her stomach, so I lifted it in embarrassment.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid grabbed it and put it back around her.
“Don’t move,” she twisted her head to me and whispered. “It’s comforting to be with you like this. Never forget you aren’t my father in law here. You are my husband. Damn you. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept great,” I whispered.
And I did.
I slept through the night like a log.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid smiled.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār got up and went into the bathroom to shower together.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid rolled over to face me.
“This is a lot less awkward than I thought it would be,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid said softly. “I like cuddling with my ever protecting Hindu father in law acting as my ever loving Hindu husband.”
“I like it too,” I said, yet only to please her.
Even Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid could detect it was a lie.
She looked at me warningly at first, then pleadingly.
I struggled to keep my morning hard-on from pressing against Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s perfect perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
I couldn’t help it.
I couldn’t act important, neither I ever wanted to.
When Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār were done in the bathroom, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told me to use it next. I shat, showered, shaved and put on my red swim trunks.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid used the bathroom last, and came out wearing a new bikini.
“What do you think?” she asked and wagged her perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks in a saucy way at me.
“Eīshān! Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid! That’s hot!” I exclaimed.
Small triangles held her round ardent Musalmān tits and the bikini bottom was cut very low.
She turned around and I saw that the back only covered a fraction of her tight little perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
“It is hot,” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār agreed.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar put his eyes back in his head and rolled his tongue back into his mouth.
“Yeah. It’s hot,” he simply said.
Both Musalmān girls giggled and Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid hugged me.
The beach was full of pretty Musalmān college girls, but in that bikini Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid attracted a ton of attention.
Even girls eyed her with lust as she sauntered around until we found an empty patch of sand for our blankets.
A big group of college kids were having a splash battle in the ocean.
The four of us quickly joined in.
The splash battle intensified when Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and another Musalmān girl jumped on Shankar Mahāpralayankar and pushed him underwater.
He came up sputtering and everyone laughed.
In retaliation, several Hindus tackled their Musalmān girlfriends and dunked them.
I advanced on Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and she looked worried, but still smiling.
“Durgesh, don’t,” she begged and laughed as she tried to back away.
I jumped, cleanly knocked her off her feet and dunked her with a big splash.
I helped her back to her feet and kept my hands on her waist to steady her.
She pushed her wet hair out of her face.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I couldn’t resist.” Then whispered, “I didn’t want you to complain to me once again.”
“It’s okay. This is fun,” she replied with a smile.
She leaned against me to whisper in my ear,
“I’m glad you’re here, Durgesh. I couldn’t relax and enjoy myself with anyone but you.”
“Yet, never forget you aren’t my wife actually.” I cautioned her in a whisper and then loudly I smiled, “I’m glad too,”
I tried not to perv out on the feel of her soft ardent Musalmān tits compressed against my bare Hindu male chest, or the sight of water dripping down her face.
There’s just something about a soaking wet Musalmān girl that reved my engine ever.
The splash battle wound down and the others were headed for the beach.
I let go of Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and we followed.
We spent most of that day doing the usual beach stuff.
Sunning, reading, trying to ride the little waves, throwing a Frisbee, taking walks.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid played and had as much fun as any of the young college kids.
She really did fit in with them.
It made me proud of her.
The Musalmān girls wanted to get dressed up that night.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and I just wore khakis and polo shirts, but we learned the Musalmān girls shopped together before the trip.
They had matching little black dresses.
They were sleeveless and the neckline dropped low, displaying the perfect Musalmān cleavage between Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s ardent Musalmān tits.
The dresses were tight and short too, ending only a few inches down their thighs.
“Wow. You Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies are gorgeous,” I complimented.
“Yeah babes, you look great,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar agreed.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār gave him a kiss, so Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid smirked at me and planted one on my lips too.
I didn’t flinch or anything.
She was a good kisser.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid happily took my arm and we went to a nice restaurant for dinner.
We went to a nightclub after.
The club was an upscale one.
They played “American standards” music, like Sinatra, and it was all slow dancing.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār went right on the floor to dance, but I didn’t ask Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.
She kept looking at me, expecting me to ask her, but I just watched the others.
A beautiful young Musalmān girl who looked like an offensive linewoman came right up to me and said, “Come on, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu. Let’s dance. You love us Musalmān Cuties. Don’t you?”
She took my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor.
I looked back at Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid but I didn’t know what she wanted to do.
I didn’t want to stop her from doing only what she wanted to do and having a good time if she wanted to.
I drew the beautiful Musalmān young lady into my arms and danced us into the crowd.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid tried to keep an eye on me but the other dancers got in the way.
Two, then three songs passed and I didn’t return.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid started to get mad.
Mad at herself for not asking me herself to dance and at me for leaving her there alone and dancing with that Musalmān cutie.
I came back into view and Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid saw that I had a big hand on her perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid rushed out to her.
“That’s enough,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told the girl.
She sneered at Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.
“Beat it, cold bitch. The sex god is with me now.”
“If you don’t take your hands off my husband, I’m going to break your nose,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid threatened.
The Musalmān cutie looked like she wouldn’t mind a fight, but Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told him, “Thank you for the dances, Fātimah, but my wife will take over now. She herself needs me now. No hard feelings, please! My first duty is to my wife, if she herself needs me.”
To my credit, she backed away without a fight.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid had a little smirk on her lips that annoyed me.
I gathered her in my arms and danced with her.
She leaned in, pressing the full length of her curvy luscious voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body against mine, and whispered in my ear,
“Sorry, it took me so long.”
“What?” I asked, somewhat still mad.
“It took me so long to get you away from that ravenous shameless Musalmān bitch. I’m your wife this week, honey. You shouldn’t let other Musalmān bitches dance with you.”
I stared in her eyes, but couldn’t figure out if she was teasing me.
“I thought you wanted me to dance with her.”
She shrugged but her eyes sparkled merrily.
She was enjoying this but I had no idea what was going on her mind actually.
“I wanted to dance with you, but she asked and you didn’t,” I explained. “And you know how much the Musalmān cuties like to dance with me. You shouldn’t have let me go with her.”
She shook her head. “I’m your wife. You need to assert yourself. She had her hands all over crotch, I saw.”
She was still smirking.
“I know,” I smiled. “I can’t believe you let her do that.”
“I expected you to stop him,” she replied innocently. “You’re my big strong husband. You’re supposed to protect me.”
I smiled proudly, unashamed by my inaction.
“Sorry,” I apologized, “I can’t any Musalmān cutie that offers herself to me. It’s my moral duty not to humiliate her.”
She giggled and nipped my earlobe with her teeth.
“It’s okay. I think I learned my lesson.”
We stayed at the nightclub for hours.
The music wasn’t my favorite, but I had to admit that slow dancing was a hell of a lot of fun after Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid joined me as my jealous Musalmān wife.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid stayed in my arms the rest of the night, mostly swaying on the dance floor but also with my arm around her while at our table.
I used the restroom once, and damned if some girl wasn’t chatting up Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid when I got back.
I possessively put my arm around her waist and glared at the girl.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid kissed my cheek and told her, “This is my husband and we’re going to dance again.”
Out on the dance floor I warned her,
“What the hell, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid? I’m gone for a minute and you’re consenting for me to flirt with some Musalmān cutie again.”
She gave me that smirk.
“I wanted to see what you’d do, and you passed with flying colors, darling.” She kissed me gently. “Don’t worry; I wasn’t letting you going to dance with her.”
“It didn’t look that way to me.” Seeing her with flirting Musalmān girls with me really alerted me off.
She was married and my ostensible Musalmān wife after all!
“Don’t get angry, husband, Durgesh,” she chastised. “If you’re going to act like a Hindu playboy then I won’t stop you ever. It would be easy. Most of the Musalmān cuties in here are eying you like a piece of meat.”
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Her Ammī said on the mobile,
“I don’t care how you do it, just try and find out.”
She had phoned saying she had a delicate matter to discuss, and wanted a favor.
This was the favor:
She was concerned that her little brother, Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb, might be gay, or at least unsure of his sexuality.
She had been concerned at some of the friends he was starting to hang around with, some of the clothes he had started to wear, and some of the things he had started to say.
She was wondering, since Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm used to be close – well certainly the closest of her five offspring – whether Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb could come and stay with Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her Hindu husband, Durgesh, during the February school break.
Just for a week, during which Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm could perhaps have a chat and find out what was going on in his head.
“Talk, or whatever. Whatever you need to do. However, you do it.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm agreed, against her better judgment.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was twenty eight years old.
Married to me, sixty five, for four years, despite the tremendous opposition of her entire family.
Lived about ten miles from her parents and Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had three older sisters.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was the youngest, and was ten years her junior.
He was the surprise, the unexpected child.
They were not sure her parents planned to have anymore after Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
Anyway, as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings were nearest in age Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings got on well as kids.
While her sisters were out partying and meeting Hindu boys, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings learned how to change nappies and bath babies.
Again Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings lost interest by the Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was fourteen.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings worked part Time.
I worked full Time for sexual social services.
Everyone insisted persistently I shouldn’t ever change it, including the learned, highly educated and absolutely unbiased humanist Musalmīn even that actually wanted to cure Ummat-e-Muslimah from sexual and other abuses as Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam himself did.
They argued none else was as capable and as unbiased in this matter, as I was.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings liked her job.
Her co-workers were fun and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit to enjoying looking at some of the fit young female students.
I was her one and only, in every sense.
She never enjoyed even looking anyone else!*
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb arrived on Sunday afternoon.
She last saw him at Eīdul Fitr, he seemed well.
They used to be close but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know him that well.
They didn’t talk much and usually when they did, it was at family gathering.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t get the chance to really talk to him.
He always seemed a bit quiet, pre occupied.
A bit of a peripheral figure.
He settled in, they showed him his room.
He quietly found an armchair to make his base for the week.
He read a lot – something Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know.
Sunday passed uneventfully, as did Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I go to work.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb just hung around at home.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm come back from work about 2pm, and we just watched TV, or read.
I told all this was quite funny.
When Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm told me, straddling and fucking me, her Ammī’s request, I just raised my eyebrows.
“That’s your Ammī all over,” I said gravely.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm raised her eyebrows, but I didn’t extend what I already had said of her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm doubted her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī was too having a wild animal extramarital affair with me, as most of her beautiful Musalmān lady friends did.
Yet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm never liked they never needed it.
It was only their ever irresponsible sexual adventure that they wanted to keep enjoying.
On Monday night, we went to bed, leaving Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb downstairs watching TV.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm awoke about two hours later, just hearing the TV still on.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got up and crept downstairs.
The TV was on, football showing, but Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was asleep on the sofa.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm switched off the TV, shook him awake and led him to his bedroom.
This part of our immensely large house was compact, box shaped, two bedrooms and a small garden.
Downstairs you come in the front door, immediately left is a toilet. Through the small hall to an open plan kitchen, diner, living room and then French windows leading to the garden.
From the hall is a winding staircase up to the landing.
A bathroom, a store cupboard and the two bedrooms.
Tuesday followed a similar pattern to Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got home about 2 pm.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was out, leaving a note saying he had gone for a walk to explore the neighborhood.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was quite pleased that he wasn’t just sitting around all day, but making the effort to get out.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm decided she must take him out for lunch one day.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t start work till noon on Wednesday or Friday, and was off on Thursday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went upstairs to her bedroom.
She removed her work uniform and went to have a shower.
Just as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm came out the shower, the doorbell rang.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings wrapped a towel around herself and went downstairs.
It was Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
“Sorry Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I forgot her key,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled. “It’s all right.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went back upstairs to dress.
When I came in we had dinner, then I asked Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb if he would like to come along to the pool club with me.
Great idea Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought.
It would be good for them to bond a bit.
Maybe I could get some damn clue to save Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm having to solve her Ammī’s ‘problem’.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had almost forgotten the reason Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was there.
Even though he was still quiet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were enjoying him being here.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm couldn’t explain it but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought he was enjoying it too.
Ammī could be quite domineering at Times.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm just couldn’t see how Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were going to tackle THE subject.
That night in bed, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me if I had approached her Ammī’s topic.
“No,” I said abruptly. ” Poor lad, just needs to be left alone I reckon.”
“I do agree, but……”.
“I know I know, your Ammī won’t let it rest.”
“What are you gonna do then?” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me.
“Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I don’t know.”
“You could ask him outright.”
‘I’m not sure, that will probably piss him off.”
“What then? We both fuck around in front of him and see his reaction to it.” I teased Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
She didn’t get my point.
“Yeah right.” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm beamed, “Why didn’t you go into his room naked one night and see if it gets him greedy for your Uncut Hindu Lund ?”
I looked at her,
“Nonsense, I don’t want to fuck any Musalmān in his ass. I’m not Shankar Mahāpralayankar, neither Rājesh Rājpūt. I never lack beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Musalmān Beauties to satisfy myself sexually.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled at me, teasing me,
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar says even a Musalmān’s ass works as an anal rheostat when a Stavak Shaktimān Uncut Hindu Lund penetrates it.”*
Al Åābidah Al Sultān didn’t know why she did it.
She guessed she just wasn’t thinking.
She did it unknowingly.
It was either her increased Bhogchakr to her ultimate status, an Ummil åālmīn, or my increased Bhogyantrānk that provided her immense Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty to let me enjoy her sexually.
I didn’t want to, if it were the second case.
Her husband was one of my Musalmān stepsons and I wanted to keep my Musalmān stepsons’ faith in me too.
Indian National Congress and the other pseudo secular anti Hindus were tremendously defeated in the recent Loksabhā Elections in 2014.
The Time Cycle of Midterm 2012 had resulted ultimately into complete destruction of the anti Hindus and pseudo seculars.
Even the Pseudo Musalmīn were returning to their pre 1857 attitude.
Perhaps even to more.
1857 didn’t have absolute Hindu leadership.
Now, it was too there.
I wanted the return of the faith of even Pseudo Musalmīn in Hindu leadership forever.
The British rule after 1857 had tried to destroy it their best.
It even succeeded even in dividing India and keeping Pakistan against India deliberately, determinedly and adamantly.
Previous Indian National Congress government of India stupidly let it happen.
Now an NDA, a BJP government actually, with complete majority, had come into power.
The Hindus must show their real big heartedness to not only to Musalmīn but to every minority even.
It would prove their unique competence to lead and make the world better constantly nonstop forever.
It was an opportunity for Hindus to prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.
HVSI had brought it laboriously gradually eventually ultimately in two years approximately.
Now it was the time to act intellectually.
Hindus could retain their victory by acting intellectually winning the confidence and faith of the minorities forever and prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.*
Farīdah Imām and I were looking into one another’s eyes very passionately.
Her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān legs were around my nude Hindu male waist.
I was playing with her gorgeous ardent Musalmān buttocks.
“We can do now more than we did when Hindutv was not in power in India.” Farīdah Imām smiled.
“Let’s Narendr Modi start with Nawaz Sharif, Åbdullah Yāmīn, Ħāmid Karzaī etcetera affably. The region should come under peace once more.”
Al Farīdah Al Imām squeezed her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Don’t you think the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists can try to destroy the glamour of the occasion?”
I felt the immense sexual bliss around my penis.
Al Farīdah Al Imām was expert in pleasuring me now tremendously.
Why couldn’t she?
She never married Nazīr Aħmad for him or herself even.
Moreover, she had expressed to everyone that actually she loved me, not Nazīr Aħmad extremely boldly.
If they didn’t like it, they should have objected at the very time when Al Farīdah Al Imām managed to sit on my lap openly for more than fifteen minutes even.
Yet, Saåīdah Anwar, Rashīd Aħmad, Nazīr Aħmad, no one objected then.*
We started with a run on our two treadmills.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s industrial-strength sports bra didn’t completely restrain the bounce of her D-cup ardent Musalmān boobs.
She I loved me to watch them.
It was infuriating to her that I didn’t seem to notice.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s big ardent Musalmān tits were a present from Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, for her thirtieth birthday.
She told him she didn’t want to go through her whole life with tiny A-cup boobs, and he was happy to pay for an ardent Musalmān boobs job.
At the time she was also becoming overweight, as thirty-year-old women generally tend to, if she doesn’t care especially.
She joined me in my morning workouts.
She said I was her inspiration.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, laughed on it.
“Okay, but I won’t guarantee you won’t fall in love with Dad. They call him Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid felt her loyalty to her husband, her shauharparasī and her Īmān, both insulted.
As soon as Narendr Modī assumed office as the new Prime Minister Of India, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, had started taunting her more.
No doubt, being thirty, a Jet Musalmān Beauty, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid appreciated Narendr Modī very much.
But she wasn’t alone even in the Musalmān youth.
Four years of workouts sculpted Al Maimūnah Al kħālid into a sleek and strong specimen of feminine perfection with platinum blonde hair.
34D-24-34. 5’6″ tall.
Perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Perky round proud ever erect excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tits were high and firm, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
She closely resembled Nigār Sultānah, a heroine of yesteryears.
Google her and you’ll get the idea.
After running on the treadmills, we lifted free weights then finished with thirty minutes of yoga.
The yoga was Al Maimūnah Al Khalid’s idea.
I went along with it because it kept me flexible and it’s entertaining to watch her contort herself into all those poses.
When we were done, we cooled down for a few minutes on an old sofa in the basement.
“So, how are classes going?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was a college freshman at age 34.
She didn’t go to college at the normal age because she had her daughter to take care of.
My stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, knocked her up when she was only 16 and he was 20.
Her daughter, Al Jihād fil Islam, was eighteen now and a senior in high school.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, didn’t mind Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid going to college.
It amused him in fact.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was kind of a bubble-headed blonde.
Not exactly the academic type.
Neither Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, nor I could picture Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid in a college classroom, but she wanted it so we supported her 100%.
She was a great person despite being a bit ditzy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid inherited money from her wealthy family, but Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a banker and could afford to support them without dipping into Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s funds.
They had a good, prosperous life in Memphis, Tennessee.
Anyway, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s face lit up and she replied, “College is great, Durgesh. I’m having so much fun!”
“Good. You’re fitting in?” I asked.
She had been worried about fitting in with the other college freshmen because she was so much older.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“Yep. I told them I’m 22 and they believe me! They think your old Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid is barely older than you are! Not bad, huh?”
I wasn’t really surprised.
She had a young-looking cute face with high cheekbones and dimples, and her body was probably the envy of every girl in her classroom.
“It’s because you keep yourself in great shape,” I complimented her.
“And I have you to thank for that, honey. You’re my inspiration,” she replied and kissed me on the cheek. “I wish your stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my husband, would work out with us.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a little older than Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, 40, exactly 25 years younger than me.
Yet he was overweight.
He never paid attention to keep himself fittest as we both did.
I never left my Stavans, Mandrs, and Satrs.
Similarly, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid never missed her Panjvaqtah Namāz.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd too never missed his Salawāt yet, he wasn’t fit nevertheless.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid teased her husband,
“Salawāt keep us Musalmān womankind fittest. You mankind need something more. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated says, if Taħannus, Stavan, Meditation, isn’t added, Salawāt actually femalize Musalmīn.”
“Nonsense, damn your Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and yourself too. Allah Allah. And you call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated? You are crazy. Lāhaul vilā qūvat.”
As a loan officer at the bank, he spent too much time sitting behind a desk.
“Good luck getting him to exercise,” I said.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a sedentary, inactive, sitting, kind of guy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid sighed.
“I know, but I worry about his health.”
Then she brightened up and added,
“Speaking of your ever incompetent stepson Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my ever imperfect husband, a funny thing happened yesterday.”
“What?” I smiled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“I told Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār that you’re my husband,” she said.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār was Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s best friend at college.
“What?! Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” she replied and giggled again. “Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār knows I’m married, and when she saw your photo on my phone, she assumed that you’re my husband.”
“Why didn’t you correct her?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid looked at me as if I was a dunce.
“Your ever incompetent stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, isn’t very believable as the husband of a young college girl, Durgesh!”
That was true.
40-year-old overweight men with receding hairlines rarely are married to college freshmen.
“So you let her think your sixty five years old Hindu father in law is your husband?” I asked incredulously.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid grinned and nodded.
“Isn’t it brilliant? It really helps me fit in. Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār thinks you’re hot, by the way. She thinks you aren’t thirty five even.”
“Is she hot? You could set me up on a date with her,” I kidded.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid frowned.
“You’re supposed to be my husband, Durgesh.”
“Oh yeah,” I chuckled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid seemed to be annoyed with my joke, but a couple minutes later she hesitantly said,
“Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār invited us to go to spring break with her and her boyfriend Shankar Mahāpralayankar.”
My jaw dropped. “What? You and me? Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, I can’t go to spring break with you.”
She pouted and whined, “Why not? I really really want to go. I won’t embarrass you, I promise.”
“No, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. It’s too weird.”
“Please?” she begged. “I never got to do stuff like this when I was your age.”
She left it unspoken that she didn’t do stuff like that because she was taking care of her daughter.
Was it a sin that, she must not get it even now, if she could get it?
I felt the weight of guilt crushing me.
Maybe this wasn’t too much to ask.
Going on a vacation with her wasn’t too weird, was it?
Moreover, it would make her happy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid deserved to be happy.
“Okay,” I agreed.
I was sure I’d regret it otherwise.
I never wanted to regret ever for anything whatsoever if it could be avoided somehow.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid squealed with delight and jumped into my arms.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the ever best father in law, Durgesh!” She kissed me on both cheeks and the tip of my nose.
“Don’t you mean best husband?” I teased.
“Yes. Best spring break Hindu hubby.” She kissed the tip of my nose again.
“Has Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, your husband, agreed to this trip?”
“Not yet. I was hoping you’d help me convince him tonight.”
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam