Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched me fucking his wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Hell, why doesn’t he divorce her?
But if he divorces Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, it would turn Al Safiyah Al Ghaus against him, wouldn’t it?
He is a cuckold now.
But he can get rid of his cuckolding easily by divorcing Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Every cuckold Musalmān husband, cuckolded to his Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife and Durgesh/her Hindu lover(s), utmost easily can get rid of their cuckolding by divorcing his cheating Musalmān wife.
Moreover, is she really Musalmān if she cheats her Musalmān husband?
What is more essential in Islam?
A cheating wife that’s an ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān otherwise?
Or a faithful Musalmān wife even if she isn’t a Panjvaqtah Namāzī?
“Now what?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked, turning the car and going out of the driveway much faster than he had entered. “Do we call on my ex wife Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd?”
“Never.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed constricting her vaginal muscles on the entire length and thickness of my Uncut Hindu Penis, “It’s not a job for us. Certainly not. It’s a job for the police, instead.”
Her gorgeous glamorous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks were resting on my nude Hindu male thighs.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever smart Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes were twinkling with triumphant grace.
“And how do you go about getting the police on the job?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked sarcastically.
He was feeling that his hatred for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was increasing more and more.
The ever unashamed bitch.
“We first try to get more evidence.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus winked at her duly married husband keeping her up and down movements on my Uncut Hindu Penis continued, “If we can get it, we are okay. If we can’t we’ve got to take a chance.”
“How do we get this evidence?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked bitterly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled.
“That’s where our Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement’s already trained members come in.”
“I don’t get it.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said, “What do you think happened?”
“Drive around the corner,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “and we’ll park the car.”
“Your Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement’s already trained members are on the way?”
“They should be here almost any minute now.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus beamed triumphantly.
“Okay.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said.
“Drive around where we can see the front of the apartment house and park the car.”*
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī had just gotten married to Ålī Abī Tālib and they managed to move into Ved Nagar.
All the Musalmān houseladies, including Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī, were extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān housewives.
On the first day her husband left, one housewife-Åāyeshah Abī Bakr-invited her to her home with the rest of the girls-Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī, Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī, and Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī.
“you are in for a real treat. We’re waiting for Durgesh.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī told her.
“Who’s that?” Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī asked smiling cunningly.
Her eyes were twinkling impishly.
Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī explained:
“He is the utmost successful Sex Therapist in the entire human history until now.”
“My sex life is working fine.” said Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī, smiling herself impishly somewhat.
Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī nodded.
“We use him as a gigolo.”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī could not believe it.
“A respectable Musalmān houselady would never use one! Besides, all of you are married!”
They stared at her and in unison retorted,
“Spouses should stay faithful!”
The others laughed.
“She is so naïve,”said Åāyeshah Abī Bakr.
She cleared her throat.
“How big is your husband when erect?”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“six inches, which is good enough for me.”
They chuckled and Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“You’ll say that until Durgesh fucks you.”
“Well, I’m staying faithful, so you’ll have to tell me all about it.”
“No, stay!” said Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī.
“Why do you all care? You will still get Durgesh. What difference do I make?”
“We care about you.” said Åāyeshah Abī Bakr. “We don’t think any of the extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies should live without experiencing the big real unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock of Durgesh. Every Musalmān houselady that’s beautiful enough that Durgesh agrees to fuck her, must necessarily enjoy it.”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī did not listen and opened the door. Coincidentally, I was there.
“I see I have a new one.” I turned my head slightly to see the others.
I waved, “Hey Beauties.”
“Hello, Hindu husband of us entire Musalmān Beauties, Hindu Al Buåūlat ul Muslimāt, Welcome, Kħush Āmadīd.”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī told me,
“I am married and staying faithful.”
I took off my shirt.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī was stunned.
Allah! God, was Durgesh hot! A six pack with pecks-I looked like Channing Tatum.
I took off my pants and boxers.
I was erect and twice her husband, Ålī Abī Tālib.
To her own immense surprise, Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī, was so overwhelmed that without any second thought, she took off all of her clothes, revealing her 42DD implants and nice, firm ardent Musalmān ass.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī was reasonably thin and tan.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī’s extremely beautiful exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was open.
“Fuck me.” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī said without even a slightest hesitation.
She was herself surprised on her such an entirely unashamed bluntness.
Yet, the fact was fact after all.
None forced Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī.
Even I never seduced her.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī herself invited me to fuck her.
And I did.
I stuck my big, tan unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock in Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī’s extremely beautiful exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī moaned really hard.
“Far much better than my husband!” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī whispered inadvertently, without even realizing what she was admitting to.
“What about staying faithful?” Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī teased.
“Fuck that!” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī yelled.
She looked at me, “Along with me.”
It was then Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī realized that her husband was not a real man.
Ålī Abī Tālib loved her, and still do, but Ålī Abī Tālib was not a real man.
To be a real man, he must have a six pack, great pecks and muscles, and a big Uncut Hindu Cock!
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī continued to groan until I exploded into her.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī then slid off.
I smiled, kissed Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī passionately and went to Åāyeshah Abī Bakr.
She also had big tits.
She was a 36DD.
Nice ardent Musalmān ass too-again.
She moaned and groaned.
“If only Muħammad was this good!”
I put my face in between her Musalmān tits during most of the fuck.
I then moved to Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī.
She was a 34D, with a nice Musalmān ass.
I fucked her hard, like I did with Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī and Åāyeshah Abī Bakr.
She laughed and moaned.
“Muħammad Ůsmān has got nothing on you!”
I said, politely, smiling,
“No man does, my dear. No husband, fiancee, or boyfriend can outfuck me. I am too hyper sexual for you extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies especially.”
I then went to Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī, who was a 28D.
Her ardent Musalmān ass was about as nice as Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī’s and Åāyeshah Abī Bakr’s.
I went up to her, kissed her extremely beautiful Musalmān face, and thrust my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Cock in her.
She immediately moaned, yelling “You are much better than Muħammad Ůsmān! No doubt.”
I kept fucking her and she kept moaning.
I put my face in between her boobs again.
I then went on to my final, Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī.
She was a 40DD.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī wondered if they all shared the same butt workout, since again, hers looked the same.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī’d show them hers, but she liked to be the best.
Like the rest of them, did not take long for her to reach orgasm.
I kissed her tits.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was in her.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī wondered how I kept being able to ejaculate without breaks.
When I finished, I put my clothes back on.
“Sorry, Beauties. I’ve to run. I’m meeting some other extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān housewives and giving a recently engaged 20-year-old Musalmān Beauty a wedding present.”
“Your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund?” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī asked rhetorically, entirely unashamed of herself.
“Of course” I said smiling triumphantly and immense proudly.
They put their clothes on too.
Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī responded,
“Daily, of course! We even told our husbands to golf on weekends so they ‘could have their own fun they like more.'”
Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“It is actually so we could have our own fun with Durgesh!”
They all giggled.
When their husbands returned, Ålī Abī Tālib asked,
“How was your first day?”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“It was great. Right, Beauties?”
They said in unison,
They all giggled at their husbands.
Although they loved their Musalmān husbands, the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān houseladies just had to laugh at their utter ignorance.*
Keeping ahead of her, Shiv Shankar Sharmā quickly climbed the stairs and ducked into the bedroom.
He watched his wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak and me fucking ravenously for more than one month nonstop.
His sacrifice for his Brāhmañ society was now too late to be reversed.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā had lost his brilliant Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, for me for ever.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā switched off the light before she arrived, and pretended to be asleep.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just could not confront her right then.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak slipped into the bedroom, and ducked silently in the bathroom.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took a long shower, and emerged from the steaming bathroom smelling of soap.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak climbed into bed, and pressed her warm body against her Brāhmañ husband, Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
It was more than one month now they hadn’t touched each other.
Durgesh’s ever wild ever passionate Bachhalyā Lund was invading Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt nonstop.
“Well?” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said softly.
“I think he is going to be okay.”
“I know. I know.”
The next day, Shiv Shankar Sharmā got up early to go to work.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā could not quite face either Pārvatī Pāŧhak or me yet.
All day at the office, Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s emotions kept fluttering between anger, remorse, sadness, and relief.
He couldn’t get rid of the images of his extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak and me fucking each other as passionately as even he hadn’t fucked her ever.
Had he done the greatest mistake of his life?
His ever faithful Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, never experienced an extramarital relationship with anyone.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was the only man in her extremely sacred Brāhmañ life.
Now, he had compelled her to taste the prohibited fruit.
Was it possible even, Pārvatī Pāŧhak didn’t compare Shiv Shankar Sharmā sexually with Durgesh?
Her ever faithful Brāhmañ body had now tasted a Bachhalyā Lund.
The Bachhalyās have a never ending time cycle with their Bachhalyā Lund in Brāhmañ Cunts.
What if Shiv Shankar Sharmā has initiated the Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī time cycle unknowingly?
As much as Shiv Shankar Sharmā liked me, Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized Shiv Shankar Sharmā was looking forward to my leaving, although Shiv Shankar Sharmā hoped Time would heal the wound.
Since Shiv Shankar Sharmā got to work so early, Shiv Shankar Sharmā was able to leave a bit early, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā decided to leave in Time to miss the rush hour traffic.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā walked into the house tired and distracted, and as Shiv Shankar Sharmā started to walk into the bedroom to change, Shiv Shankar Sharmā saw us on the bed.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s jaw must have hit the floor, Shiv Shankar Sharmā was so surprised.
He backed away immediately, and then stepped forward to take another peek since Shiv Shankar Sharmā could not believe Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s own eyes.
But unfortunately, Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s eyes were not playing tricks on Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was on her back on their bed, her long, lean legs propped up over my shoulders.
I was boning her hard, pounding that huge Bachhalyā Lund into her with fast, deepest Bachhalyā strokes.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak‘s tits were jiggling wildly with the force of our fucking.
We’d obviously been at it for a long Time because we were both covered with sweat.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was moaning softly, a low, throaty, passionate rumble.
Her right hand was down between her legs, frigging her clit wildly.
I was breathing loudly through my mouth, gasping for air as the aerobic workout strained my lungs.
“Oooohhh yeah, Méré Bachhalyā Piyā,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, groaned as her body shook in orgasm.
“I’m cumming too,” I gasped in response as I pounded into her spasmodically before plunging my Bachhalyā Lund all the way in and shooting my Bachhalyā load into her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ womb.
As we came down from our sexual high, I kept sliding my Bachhalyā meat slowly in and out of her wet Pāŧhak Brāhmañ hole.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted her nude Pāŧhak Brāhmañ legs off my nude Bachhalyā shoulders, and let them fall heavily onto the bed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak gazed up at me, glassy eyes, her sweat-coated chest heaving as Pārvatī Pāŧhak caught her breath.
“You are amazing,” I said after a while. “Usually BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs never last so long even with me.”
“Hey Bhagvān! Oh God, Durgesh, Méré Bachhalyā Piyā _you_ are amazing,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied emphatically. “I came five…. oh! Hey Bhagvān, Shiv Shankar Sharmā!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak suddenly exclaimed as Pārvatī Pāŧhak spotted in, her husband, in the doorway.
I tried to spin around to look, but my Bachhalyā Lund was still wedged too deepest inside her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
I had to deliberately extract myself before I could reach for my clothes.
As I spun off her, Pārvatī Pāŧhak wrapped herself in the bed cover.
I grabbed my clothes, smiled at Shiv Shankar Sharmā and said,
and sauntered out the room past Shiv Shankar Sharmā, my big Bachhalyā Lund, anointed heavily with his Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife’s Pāŧhak Brāhmañ cunt juice and my Bachhalyā Vīrý, dangling wetly before me.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt himself immensely disgraced and humiliated.
Yet his soul shouted at him,
‘That’s all the sacrifice for your Brāhmañ community you proposed to your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Shiv Shankar Sharmā? You could bear it with a heavy righteous sacrificial devotion for even more than a month, but not any more? Pārvatī Pāŧhak never even imagined any one else to replace you until you yourself didn’t suggest Durgesh. How the hell your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak is responsible for what you’ve seen now? Aren’t you yourself responsible for it? You sacrificed your Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife to a Bachhalyā Penis for your own Brāhmañ community’s ultimate welfare. Did you not? She has experienced now the heavy nonstop pounding of an ever lustful Bachhalyā Lund into her otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt. How the hell can you expect from her not to crave for the same divine sexual Bachhalyā bliss she was getting nonstop for more than a month Honeymoon of her with Durgesh? It was natural Durgesh and your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, fucked again. It’s you that are behaving irrationally now, not your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak. Shame on you.’
“Oh Shiv Shankar Sharmā, oh Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak blubbered.
“Goddamn it Pārvatī Pāŧhak, what the fuck are you doing?” Shiv Shankar Sharmā shouted.
“Please Shiv Shankar Sharmā, please don’t be upset. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I just…”
“You just were fucking Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s best Bachhalyā friend behind Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s fucking back,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said cutting her off. “Didn’t you get enough last fucking month plus even?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I didn’t plan it.”
“What the hell does that mean? It’s hard to believe that your legs ended up over his shoulders and his Bachhalyā Lund in your Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot by accident.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just sneered at her angrily.
“Durgesh got a second interview. He came home early and told me about it. Well, we popped a bottle of juice, and started celebrating, and well, before we knew it, we were sort of fooling around.”
“Goddammit Pārvatī Pāŧhak, you expect me to …” Shiv Shankar Sharmā paused, Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t know what to say.
“I wanted to stop it, I knew it was wrong, but Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I was so happy, and last month plus seemed to work so well, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I didn’t want to turn Durgesh down now and hurt his Bachhalyā confidence on his new Pāŧhak Brāhmañ beloved sex partner. I mean, that would have made last one month plus mean nothing, and I know how hard this has been for you and our ever gracious Brāhmañ community, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I didn’t want it to be in vain.”
“I… Goddammit Pārvatī Pāŧhak, this is fucking crazy. I told you I didn’t want you to do this anymore.”
“I know, I know,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied.
Seeing that Shiv Shankar Sharmā was calming down somewhat, Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed her panties off the floor and started to slide them on.
As she dropped the bed sheet, Shiv Shankar Sharmā looked between her legs and gasped in shock.
“You shaved your Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot? For Durgesh?!” Shiv Shankar Sharmā had been asking her to do that for years, and she had always refused.
“When? This morning? How the fuck can you say this wasn’t planned?”
“No, not this morning. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I did it after Durgesh and I first did it this afternoon. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I dunno, Durgesh suggested it. It was just an impulse thing.”
“Hey Bhagvān,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā muttered.
“He came home, we had juice, fooled around, I took a shower and shaved, and then Durgesh and I fooled around some more. I’m sorry.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just sat down on the bed and shook his head.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā looked up at Pārvatī Pāŧhak standing next to the bed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked incredibly hot, wearing only a pair of thin panties.
Her chest was still heaving, making her breasts rise and fall in Time with her breaths.
Her large nipples were still erect, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see a growing wet spot in her panties as My copious Bachhalyā seed began leaking from her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took a step toward Shiv Shankar Sharmā and dropped to her knees between Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s legs.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at Shiv Shankar Sharmā, her face still flush, and her hair styled in just-fucked disheveled.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, I don’t know what to say.”
“Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I love you, you know.” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said, tears in her eyes.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak started to run her hands up and down Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s thighs.
To Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s surprise, Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt his Brāhmañ Hindu Penis began to stir.
He wasn’t so sexy ever, at least with Pārvatī Pāŧhak, his wife.
It was not a Brāhmañ symptom.
Only Bachhalyās are so sexy.
It wasn’t so unnatural that Durgesh was fucking Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s extremely beautiful extremely faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
The Bachhalyās always fucked BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs shamelessly, in their entire history.
In fact the Bachhalyās were made ab initio to fuck BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs.
Were they not?
Didn’t Lord Bhagvān Parashu Rām massacred the Bachhalyās twenty one times because they refused to stop fucking BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs even while they didn’t surrender to the Bachhalyās?
Pārvatī Pāŧhak moved her hands up, and lowered Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s zipper.
Then without saying a word, Pārvatī Pāŧhak carefully fished Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s Brāhmañ Penis out of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s pants.
“Stop it.” Shiv Shankar Sharmā thundered at her, “Leave me alone at once. Go to Durgesh to satisfy your impious lust. Only Durgesh can give you now what you need.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was stunned.
“Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I… I…”
“Go away.” Shiv Shankar Sharmā shouted, “Fuck Durgesh instead of me. He loves it more. You have forgotten now that you are a sophisticated Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lady after all.”*
Pārvatī Pāŧhak had never imagined Shiv Shankar Sharmā would behave with her so irrationally.
What the hell more she had done with Durgesh today that hadn’t been done already in her one month nonstop Honeymoon with Durgesh?
Yes, despite the fact that Durgesh started fucking her today as soon as Shiv Shankar Sharmā left the house, she was still craving to have Durgesh’s great Bachhalyā Lund into her now ravenous Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt.
Still, she was ready to adjust with Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s Sharmā Brāhmañ penis instead.
But if Shiv Shankar Sharmā himself wants to push her again to his ever sexiest Bachhalyā friend Durgesh, well, what else she herself can do now?
She isn’t responsible initially for the intense craving of her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt for Durgesh’s ever sexiest great Bachhalyā Lund.
It was never there one month plus ago.
It has developed within last one month plus Honeymoon of her with Durgesh.
Well, she never had even imagined it.
It was proposed by Shiv Shankar Sharmā himself.
And now Shiv Shankar Sharmā is trying her to hold responsible for what he himself has initiated?
How the hell she is responsible for it?
So, Shiv Shankar Sharmā now hates her for she obeyed him as a faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife?
What the hell should she have done?
Disobeyed her Brāhmañ husband, Shiv Shankar Sharmā?
He wants now she should get her sexual needs fulfilled from Durgesh instead of from her Brāhmañ husband, Shiv Shankar Sharmā?
Only Durgesh would fuck Pārvatī Pāŧhak from now on.
No Shiv Shankar Sharmā ever now any longer.
She herself doubts however now Shiv Shankar Sharmā could satisfy her sexually after Durgesh has fucked her for one month plus.
Durgesh is the ever best love maker.
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.’
That’s what Durgesh’s Musalmān beloveds say.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak thinks now Durgesh’s Musalmān beloveds are entirely correct.
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash’
Pārvatī Pāŧhak agrees with Durgesh’s infinite Musalmān beloveds now.
Nude Pārvatī Pāŧhak stretched herself, smiled cunningly first time in her entire life until now, and stepped to my bedroom.
Goodbye Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
If you want it, get it.
No problem, you cheater, you unjust, you ungrateful.
I hate you myself now.
You have seen Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s faithfulness until now.
Now, you will see Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s punishment to you.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak isn’t a damn fool.
Until now, Pārvatī Pāŧhak was your faithful wife.
From now on, Pārvatī Pāŧhak is your executioner.
She will see you get punished properly, you cheater, you unjust, you ungrateful.
You are a Rāvañ now, one more, for Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
You have awakened Bhagwatī Durgā Sinhwāhinī Mahishāsurmardanī in Pārvatī Pāŧhak now, unknowingly, erroneously,Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
Never forget Pārvatī Pāŧhak is the real younger sister of Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the real paternal aunt of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Durgesh’s Practical Chief Wife.
Beware, you damn fool.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The dawn was cold and chilly.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t need any coat around her.
My nonstop back and forth penetrations into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt were providing her enough heat she needed to face the cold and chill.
The automobile slid to a stop.
“What’s first on the program?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus surveyed the apartment house standing on the silent residential street, as though waiting for the warm morning sunlight to bring it to life.
“Like a sleeping horse standing on three legs with his head down.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you can’t believe the neighborhood is jammed with people.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched her sarcastically.
“Another hour you’ll see curtains going up, smell the aroma of coffee, see the people dashing down the steps running for the streetcars.”
“I wish I were certain we had an hour.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Well, there’s only one thing to do. Find out first where Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s apartment is and next where her garage is.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“That garage business may be tricky, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He suggested protesting what she had implied, “some early riser may be looking out of a window and…”
“I know.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It’s not a good idea to take chances that way.”
“I see.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “What do you suggest instead?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs thought for a second then he admitted reluctantly somewhat.
“I’m darned if I know. But if we contact the police…”
“And if the police asked the proof?”
“We are trying to get proof so that we can provide the same to the police if they asked for it.”
“There is no other option.”
“Why not wait?”
“Water,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said dryly, “has the habit of evaporating. I want to take a look at that automobile before the cushions have had a chance to dry out.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs surrendered ultimately, “If you feel that way about it, let’s go. Every minute makes things that much more dangerous.”
We left the automobile, walked up to the apartment house.
By consulting the directory Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found that Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd had apartment 786.
As we turned back to the car, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said,
“Now, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you take the car, and drive up the driveway. We’ll pretend that we are looking for a stall to put the car in. If there’s any trouble, we can claim that some friend told us we could use her garage for a couple of days because she was going to be away.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said sarcastically,
“Sure. And then if they ask us about the friend and where she lives, it will be just another one of those things.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him scornfully,
“We’ll just have to talk fast and try to talk our way out of it. If you don’t want to cooperate…”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs went back to the automobile, started it, backed into a half turn, then drove slowly up the driveway.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and I walked ahead of Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was my nude glorious mare now on her knees and I was fucking her from her gorgeous behind.
The driveway went around to the back of the apartment house, where there was a large cemented yard flanked with garages.
“Begins to look better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Look the garage doors even have the numbers of the apartments on them.”
“And padlocks.” I smiled.
“We’ll leave that to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. What a husband is good for if he can’t pick a lock for his wife, once in a while.”
“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” I asked innocently.
“It is.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus admitted, “I believe it’s a felony. Even I wouldn’t do it for a million dollars if there were any other way.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs brought the car to a stop, climbed out, and looked at the padlock.
“I don’t like it, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He said bitterly.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus pushed her exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, contracted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock, and looked at her husband, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, contemptuously,
“You don’t think I care any more what the hell you like and what you don’t. Do you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs too looked at his wife venomously,
“I am more prudent now than I was when I married you.”
“That’s better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said bitterly, “Got those skeleton keys handy?”
“Oh sure,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said, “I am not a damnfool that I give you one more chance to destroy me. It’s your funeral now, not mine. I don’t love you any more. Go ahead if you really think you can outwit Durgesh even.”
“Got those skelton keys?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus asked him coldly.
“Yes, they are in the car.”
“Get them for me.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him emotionlessly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs pointed out smirking.
“The windows of those back apartments look out here in the court and…”
“My damn fool husband,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sneeringly, “the longer you talk, the more chance there is someone will hear the discussion and look out to see what it’s all about. This is no time to get weak kneed. You know now very well you were never my destination when I married you. You were my stepladder only.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t stunned even for a moment.
He laughed bitterly.
“I wasn’t in love you myself, bitch. I wanted to fuck you only. And I have done it now to my heart’s content. I damn care now if you fuck Durgesh or a black thief even.”
“That’s all right. It was a bargain then. You were after my body and I was after your money. We both got what we wanted to have. Now, why the hell are you trying to protect me still now as if you are still my husband? You are not. You were never my husband, moreover. You were only my stepladder and I’ve reached my destination now. Durgesh is my destination, you stupid. Why the hell don’t you understand?”
“I don’t understand?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed sarcastically, “I don’t understand? I suspected you bitch, right from the beginning that you were after my money, not after me.”
“I don’t have all the time in the world now.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said contemptuously, “You love a female animal body only as any male animal does. Durgesh doesn’t. Durgesh loves Beauties with brains. That’s why Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan successfully defeated her Ammī Nafīsah Salmān in Durgesh’s sex life. I have to show Durgesh that I too have brains, not beauty only, if I want to gain some respect from him in our sex life. I have to go ahead as though I own the joint and we are just putting the car in for the night. Get me those keys.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs walked back to the glove compartment of his automobile, reluctantly took out the bunch of skeleton keys handed them to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, said,
“These are the padlock keys.”
Then he walked over to the door, stood so that his body shielded the large bunch of keys from any casual observer who might be looking out of any window whatsoever.
In fact, there was a great temptation for him to turn back to the automobile, and disassociate himself from what was going on.
But he could not do it.
Despite what he said, he still loved the treacherous Musalmān Beauty.
Yes, he suspected Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was using him as a stepladder.
But even then he could have her amazingly exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body until she needed him as a stepladder at least.
After all, what was there to lose?
It took five keys before Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found one that would open the padlock.
The lock clicked back.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus calmly opened the door.
We moved inside of the garage.
After a moment, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus called Al Nadīm Al Quddūs sneeringly.
Her voice was exaggeratedly sweetest.
In fact, she cooed actually.
“My dear utmost wise husband, would you kindly oblige me to come here?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs hesitated a few moments, then reluctantly entered the garage.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had opened the sedan doors.
Now, she was feeling the seat cushions and the carpet on the floor.
“Look at this rear cushion, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sarcastically, “doesn’t that feel damp to you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put a reluctant hand on the cushion.
“The left side.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It feels sort of damp.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs admitted.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus frowned thoughtfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“That’s right. You frown thoughtfully because you have yourself too realized now that it would have been soaking wet if your theory was right.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus immediately searched through the automobile.
Disappointment appeared on her face.
“Clean as a hound’s tooth, ma’am.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs announced triumphantly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully.
“I guess I’m off on a wrong trail. The only thing to do now, is to get out of here fast. Hang it, Allah, I can’t get over that damp place in the seat of cushion. What the hell could have caused it?”
“I damn care.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said triumphantly, “Nevertheless, if it had been what you thought, it would have been wetter than that.”
“I’ll be damned.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully, “Let’s take a look at the motor temperature.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus clicked on the switch and looked at the electric gauge.
“Cold as a cucumber.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus flicked off the switch.
“Okay, I guess I’m licked. Durgesh has played some still deeper game, deeper for me at least.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs chuckled.
I kept smiling only.
I didn’t comment.
“I guess, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd could have used another car.”
“Well, there isn’t any evidence here to back up your theory.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched him scornfully.
“The tragedy is that if it isn’t here I don’t know where I have to go to look for it.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly, “let’s get out and do our talking afterward. I never liked this idea in the first place.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs started for the door.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus made a quick final survey of the garage.
Suddenly she said,
“Hell! Look here.”
Her voice was suddenly filled with triumphant excitement.*
I was riding Al Samīnah Al Qāsim once more.
We had fucked since in countless sex positions.
No doubt she couldn’t make with Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
He was a righteous man who believed sex was not actually a virtue for men.
The men, if they were really righteous, must control sex.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim needed enormous sex instead.
“Abbū and I both think it’s just a joke someone played. You know Ammī now even more than Abbū and me, I think. She swears that it was my picture in the frame when she was doing the packing, but Ammī gets excited when we travel. You see, Zāherah Ħusayn and I look alike, even if Zāherah Ħusayn wouldn’t admit it. Ever since I started traveling, people in restaurants and night clubs have been staring at me, nudging each other and whispering.”
“You might capitalize on it. A stand in or something.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim didn’t know then what her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, had planned actually.
We were half through breakfast when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, approached us.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim deliberately left us and went to her stateroom as soon as she saw her Ammī.
She wanted to give privacy to her Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, with me.
It might be Al Nāsirah Al Karīm wouldn’t talk freely in Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s presence.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to stop Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Nonsense. Your Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, is an ultramodern Musalmān lady. She wouldn’t have been a Trillionaire if she were so backward.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s hand.
“I know my Ammī more than you do, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. She isn’t a Trillionaire when she deals with her children. She is an Ammī then.”
“Al Nāsirah Al Karīm,” I looked at her, “I have some information for you.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan on her cheeks.
Yet she grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis too and squeezed it appreciating it.
I smiled, squeezed her still gorgeous rich Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed me on my lips.
I hugged her.
“Can you tell me now?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm glanced dubiously at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“You have to decide it.” I smiled, “It’s your family secret, not mine.”
“It’s all right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “I can understand. Excuse me, please.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm held her wrist.
“It’s all right, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. I may need you too. Please, stay with us if you don’t have another work more important to do.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, squeezed her arm and assured Al Nāsirah Al Karīm that she was staying.*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked resignedly.
“Now what the hell is it?”
“Over here.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him curtly, “Quick.”
The tone of her voice brought Al Nadīm Al Quddūs to her side immediately.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was bent down over a dark corner that was under a workbench.
“What the hell is it?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked impatiently now.
He had lost now all his patience.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straightened.
She was holding an army blanket in her hand.
“Feel this.” She ordered Al Nadīm Al Quddūs scornfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs felt of it, then whistled.
“Soaking wet.” He exclaimed.
“And look under here too, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus bent over and picked up a pair of men’s shoes.
“These,” she said curtly, “were directly under the blanket.”
The shoes themselves were soaking wet.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was stunned.
“You win,” he said involuntarily incredulously, “Allah, by gosh. I’ll hand it to you.”
“Himmat-e-mardān madad-e-Kħudā.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled triumphantly.
“Correct it appropriately.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed, “Himmat-e-åuratān madad-e-Kħudā.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed too.
“Well, what do we do?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked, “Take the evidence?”
“No.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “We put everything back the way it was, get out of here, and let the police make the discovery.”
“Do you think they will?”
“They will after we get done with them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cheerfully.
“Just put them back the way you found them?”
“Yes, but first look on the inside of those shoes.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus instructed her husband elatedly, “See if there’s a manufacturer’s name. See if you can get his size.”
“Do you want to read me the letters that are on the inside here? I’ll write them down.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cheerfully picked up the shoes, held them so the light shone down on the figures that were stamped on the lining.
She read off the numbers and the name of the manufacturer.
“Nothing to show the retail store that sold them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked.
“Nothing.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Just the shoe. Eight and a half B as I interpret the meaning of these numbers. However, we’d better check up with a shoe man on that.”
“And get out of here,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said.
“Okay,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “put the shoes back.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put the shoes back, put the wet blanket over the shoes.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the first out of the garage.
I was the last.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus locked the door of the garage.
Once more Al Nadīm Al Quddūs shielded with his body what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was doing so that no one in the apartment house could see Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wiping fingerprints off the padlock with a handkerchief.
I helped Al Safiyah Al Ghaus into the car, then climbed myself pulling her on my lap, sitting on the seat.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straddled on my Uncut Hindu Penis facing me.
“You really think the police will find it?” suddenly Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“Oh sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “It’s not Durgesh that forgot to remove them from the garage. He isn’t that careless. It’s either Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd or Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself.”
“Can’t it be a bait?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs suggested.
“Bait? For me?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“They can’t harm me now any more as I can’t harm them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said gravely, “Moreover, they know it very well as I do myself.”
“Then why are you trying to harm them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd wants to revenge me. I have to see she never succeeds. It’s my legal right. Isn’t it?”
“Well, how can you blame Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd? You’ve broken her home. Hadn’t you?”
“Well, that’s the point.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “She blames me for it. She justifies herself. She isn’t cured even now. Until and unless Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd doesn’t stop justifying herself and blaming others for her failures she is open to be harmed either by me or by someone else.”
“Okay. What about my younger brother Al Muħammad Al Qāsim?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked her bitterly.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim looked at me scornfully.
“I could never imagine, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd could give you excellent sex enough to protect her uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, and her cousin, Muħammad bin Qāsim, to this extent.”
“Neither could I.” Al Lubnā Al Qāsim said scornfully too.
“He is only an Uncut Hindu Penis, nothing else.” Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim said, “He can do anything to fuck Musalmān Beauties. And if some extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies are available in a Musalmān household, Durgesh can conceive and stage any bloody legal hocus pocus to protect that entire damn Musalmān household.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Vikram Bachhalyā and Pratāp Bachhalyā.
They kept silence.
None of them tried to say anything.
“Won’t you say anything?” Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim shouted at both Vikram Bachhalyā and Pratāp Bachhalyā, “Does a Bachhalyā brain act only when the Bachhalyā Lund visits a Brāhmañ Cunt? Not, when it visits a Musalmān Cunt?”
Al Lubnā Al Qāsim laughed ironically.
“Our ancestors used to say that we Musalmīn would have also converted entire India into Islam. But the Hindus successfully deceived us by telling us the Brāhmañs are the brain of the Hindus and the Rājpūts are the arms of them. Actually it wasn’t a fact at all. The Brāhmañs were only the ostensible brain of the Hindus and the Rājpūts were only the field warriors. The real brain of the Hindus were the ever indomitable Bachhalyās. The Hindus always kept this war secret successfully to themselves only.”
Vikram Bachhalyā and Pratāp Bachhalyā smiled.
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is outlining her theory only. She hasn’t produced any facts in support of her wildest theory until now.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
Her back and forth movements of her glorious Musalmān buttocks were being increased more and more, swallowing my ever increasingly lustful Uncut Hindu Penis entirely into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“My dear brother in law, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, competently protected by his ever efficient Hindu son in law, Durgesh, then slipped out of sight to drift along the side of the ship, pounding and hanging against the sides. He couldn’t be certain otherwise to waken witnesses. After all he had to disappear afterward, hadn’t he to?”
“You mean he used a rope for hanging and pounding to attract the attention of witnesses?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked his ever smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
“There are so many persons who have seen a rope on the deck that disappeared afterward.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly, “I was too one of them.”
“And how could you manage it?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was sarcastic.
“I could manage it, my dear husband, because I suspected him ever since he met Durgesh. I used our Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad to follow your younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, nonstop continuous.”
“Because you are interested in his billions?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly.
“Why not?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said shamelessly, “Isn’t he your younger brother? Didn’t you help him ever in building his business?”
“If I could help him, I myself would have been a Billionaire.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ignored his comment deliberately.
“Let me hear more about the rope.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said sarcastically, “What does the rope have to do with it?”
“You are one of the most successful script writers in Ved Nagar Film Industry.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Can’t you yourself imagine it? Your younger brother had to go overboard, falling in a rather peculiar way. Then he had to be where his wife, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, would see him when she reached the bow of the ship. There’s quite an overhang on the bow of the ship that’s built along those trim lines. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to be certain that the current couldn’t sweep him away until after Al Zohrah Al Bittol had seen him. Moreover, in addition to that, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to be where he could have one hand out of the water and fire a gun. He had to be sure it went off. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim couldn’t afford that gun to get wet or have the barrel filled with water. He had to drop off the ship in such a way that he could keep his right hand out of the water until after he’d fired the shot.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife outlining her theory how I could have helped Al Muħammad Al Qāsim in escaping from his ever greedy relatives.
“And you mean that accounts for the rope?” His voice had appreciation now for his ever smart wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, despite the fact that he hated her now more and more.
Well, she was brilliant after all.
“Sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said enthusiastically fucking me herself vigorously now. “The best way to have done all that was to have looped a twenty foot rope over the bow of the ship. Then when Al Muħammad Al Qāsim leaned over the side, he could manage to fall in just that particular manner.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t believe his own wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, was such a brilliant Musalmān Beauty.
She was describing in detail how could have I saved his younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, she was so against of.
He forgot she was fucking me.
Her exquisite gorgeous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks were filling my nude Hindu male lap again and again.
My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis was vanishing into his extraordinary smart extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt with her glamorous bottom’s every back and forth motion.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, your younger brother, could hit the water with a splash. He’d have hold of the rope with his left hand and the gun would be held in his right hand.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said ironically, “He’d fire the gun then let go one end of the rope down with him. Then he only needed to kick himself up the current and the confused motions of a wounded swimmer would keep him in just the position he wanted until he looked up and saw his wife, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, looking down at him. Then he could drift along the side off the ship.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs murmured to himself involuntarily.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was a swimming champion in various swimming clubs’ swimming contests. Durgesh planned knowing his capacity of swimming fully.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“There you are my dear husband.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“He decided to die to get rid of us. But when a person dies, there are certain formalities that have to be taken care of before he’s marked dead officially. Someone has to see the body and identify it. Durgesh used Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wife, for it. Her anticipatory bail had already been taken to protect her. Everything in the planning is so efficiently taken care of that it almost bears Durgesh’s signature. No one except Durgesh could have even conceived this plan. It’s so legally perfect. Isn’t it?”
Everyone present there looked at me with immense appreciation in his/her eyes for me.
I smiled non-committal.
There was no use in contradiction.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was too obsessed with her logic.
The others were too impressed by her reasoning.
“You see why Durgesh’s ship itself was chosen for it. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim could practice his ostensible murder in this way more efficiently than with another ship/yacht. Durgesh has been known for his unique ship for years now. The pictures of his ‘yacht’ have been published already in all the yachting magazines. If Al Muħammad Al Qāsim could get aboard this ‘yacht’ and leave Durgesh himself to do the explaining to the police… Get it, my dear husband?”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her gravely.
“I’m beginning to. But even if it was so, what’s wrong there Durgesh has done? Al Muħammad Al Qāsim wanted to get rid of us. He is authorized to do so. You haven’t done anything so far in his favor. You always did everything against him and my daughter Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim didn’t want our interference in his life any more. Well, he was authorized to do so.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him furiously.
“You are a damn fool. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim knew very well he could never in the world have got a dime out of Durgesh until the escrow was closed. Durgesh would have demanded a quitclaim deed from Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim jointly, then given them an order on the escrow. Therefore, by playing it this way, and leaving the case wide open, Durgesh convinced Al Muħammad Al Qāsim to feel certain the true facts would never have been even suspected let alone uncovered.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her sarcastically.
“Can you prove anything of this wildest theory of yours?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled approvingly.
“That’s the point. When Durgesh, the legal wizard, plans something it’s not easy to find some hole in it.”
“But,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled cunningly, “it’s a legal problem we have to face. If we can’t establish what you have theorized so skillfully, what’s the hell use of your such a wonderful interpretation of the facts?”
“I know,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus contracted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my Uncut Hindu Penis, “the proof lies in the fact that your younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, couldn’t do it without an accomplice. He needed someone to help him out. Someone, who was camped downstream with a rowboat anchored out of the deep channel but where the current was strong. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim must have kicked past the side of the boat, then gone on downstream, swimming under water, come up to the surface, quit swimming, turned over on his back and floated until he saw the signal of his accomplice on the rowboat.”
“Signal?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t deny he was appreciating his enormously smart wife mentally, despite his every effort to hate her.
She was brilliant.
She was smart.
But, so was almost every Musalmān Beauty he met until now that fucked Durgesh either or Durgesh himself fucked her.
Does Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund inject wisdom, prudence and smartness even in a Musalmān Beauty when he fucks her?
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t believe it was even possible.
“Sure,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus answered him, “probably a shielded flashlight.”
Allah, she had answer to every question.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus continued.
“Then Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, your younger brother, climbed aboard over the stern of the rowboat. His accomplice promptly cut loose from his anchor and silently sculled, rowed, paddled, propelled or canoed the boat to shore where they had an auto waiting.”
“Theory again.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs objected, “I was asking of proof.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was as obsessed with her theory as she didn’t even pay any attention to what Al Nadīm Al Quddūs had said.
She continued to say in her enthusiasm.
“They’ll be working according to a tight little schedule. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim will be on an airplane headed for some Islamic country or perhaps some place in Mexico.”
“Sure. He has his numerous friends there. Hasn’t he?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs murmured.
“You have a point there.”
“Do you know who is his accomplice?”
“Hell, no.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs grimaced.
“Your lovely, now again extremely beautiful ex-wife, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus exploded her bomb shell.*
Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd turned the canoe, sent it swiftly to the exhausted Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
“Get in.” she said, “Climb in over the bow so you don’t upset us.”
“Thank you, Bhābhījān.” Al Muħammad Al Qāsim said in an entirely exhausted voice.
It wasn’t easy to reach the canoe without coming in the eyes of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement Musalmān lady commandos.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was very harsh on Criminal/Criminal Minded Musalmīn.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was now Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s faithful friend.
Of course, Durgesh was with Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, but even then, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd and Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd were no match for Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female intellect.
Well, he wasn’t sure still whether Muħammad bin Qāsim could hold the fort successfully now, behind him.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim glanced over his shoulder to look at Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd and me, a swift, desperate appraisal.
Then, he raised his right hand, then left, then catching hold of the bow with both the hands, one on each side, he raised himself with a powerful thrust of strong Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān arms.
He came over the bow, sliding along to lie momentarily flat on his stomach, kicking his legs clear of the water.
“I hope Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān’s Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement’s ever dangerous Musalmān lady commandos haven’t seen me.” He said breathlessly.
“Āmīn.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said.
“ÉVmastu!” I also said, “Tathāstu!”
“I don’t think even now, it’d be easy to establish that I’ve been really murdered.”
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan would never leave any stone unturned to prove the contrary.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said pushing her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back in my nude Hindu male lap.
My Uncut Hindu Penis again vanished entirely into her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim rolled over with a swift lithe motion, doubled his knees in under him, pulled down his wet dress and gasped.
Even then he didn’t fail to notice that I was paddling like hell.
He couldn’t decide whether my Uncut Hindu Penis was vanishing fast into his Bhābhījān, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt or I was paddling fast.
His followers had flashlights.
Everyone of them were trained commandos after all.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was now Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was paying a large fee to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement.
Even if Durgesh was against the movement, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was with them.
The questing beams of the flashlights circled out over the dark waters.
One of the more powerful flashlights caught the canoe.
I promptly ceased paddling, kept my back turned, my face down and said to Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
“Keep your head down.”
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim obeyed instantly.
From the direction of my ship, came the sputtering sound of a motor, then a choking back fire, followed by a sudden roar of staccato explosions.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was instantaneously alert.
“Allah,” he said, “they are prepared for everything. Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān has perhaps anticipated our every move already. They have got one of the speedboats going. We have to reach quickly to our other yachts there.”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is right Durgesh.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said, “Give it everything you have. Quick. We can’t afford to let them catch us here.”
“That’s why I proposed speedboat myself. But you insisted on canoe.”
“Speedboats make noise.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis by her vaginal muscles, “Hear yourself.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“My dear husband, I’ve instructed my reliable detectives from Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement to scrutinize the passengers who go out on airplanes. I want them to cover the morning outgoing trains at the depot. I want detectives to comb the river bank and see if they can find some trace of Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd who rented a rowboat/canoe. Above all, my dear husband, if the scheme worked out according to schedule, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim must have changed from his wet clothes to dry clothes in Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s automobile. I want to get hold of her automobile and see if we can find Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wet clothes. That’s why I’m in a hurry and that’s why we have got to work fast.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then he smiled.
“You think Durgesh hadn’t anticipated already what you can do? He hasn’t already checkmated your every possible move? Well, my dear wife, then you don’t know Durgesh properly, even while he is fucking you.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I looked at my watch.
“Let’s discuss it afterward. First, let’s go to the bank and cash this check. Are you known there at the bank?”
“Sure, I’ve always done my uncle’s banking business.”
“He has sufficient balance there to honor this check in his commercial checking account?”
“Of course, there was around a hundred million dollars in it when I left. I keep his books and make out his checks.”
“I see, not Al Kubrah Al Qāsim? Not Al Zakāt Al Qāsim even?”
“No, they have their own business establishments to take care of.”
“Yet, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself signs his checks after you make them?”
“That’s right.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd cooed, “He wanted me to sign the checks up to one million dollars at least. I requested him to let me more understand the business before I have such financial rights.”
“What do you want done with this money, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd? You can’t go around carrying a sum like that.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd smiled impishly now.
“Doesn’t the letter itself say you are to take charge of it and fix it in such a way that I can have it but nobody else could find it?”
“That’s right. But, you’ve some cash with you?”
“Actually I don’t. Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim saw that I had traveler’s checks when I started my trip. But everything was a lot more expensive than we had expected. I cashed my last traveler’s check in Mumbai. I had just enough money left for taxi fare here. I’ll have to take taxi fare home out of the money we get on this check.”
“Hey, what do you mean?”
“You asked me are you accepted as my new live in relationship partner. Didn’t you?” I smiled.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd suddenly got the meaning.
She shouted in sheer unanticipated pleasant surprise.
“Meaning we are live in relationship partner now?”
“If you are such an idiot that you prefer an old man of more than double your age on some quite young prince charming of your own age group.” I smiled again.
She plunged at me.
“You mean inexperienced morons? Never. I want the experienced mastermind to take care of my financial affairs, my life, every damn thing related to me and me too.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd put her young beautiful arms around my neck, “and if you call me an idiot for it, I damn care. To hell with everything else if I have the great Durgesh as my live in relationship partner.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd kissed me passionately on my lips.*
She didn’t leave me despite my insistently telling her,
“We can do it whole life, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd. The encashment of the check is more important now.”
“You are an old man of sixty three if what you claim is true and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is wrong. But I am not old.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd undressed me fully then and there.
She kissed my rock hard Uncut Hindu Penis, licked it and then sucked.
“Idiot,” I said, “the encashment of the check is more important, I say. They can try to stop the payment of the check. All the precautions taken by Al Muħammad Al Qāsim can be checkmated by Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“Fuck Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd said sucking my Uncut Hindu Cock madly, “She was always after money. I was always after your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund. Understand?”
“You are a moron.”
“To hell if I am really moron even. It doesn’t make any difference now. I have the Everbest Mastermind as my live in relationship partner.”
After sucking me to her heart’s content in 69 position, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd mounted my Uncut Hindu Lund, straddled me, positioned my Uncut Hindu Lund between her till virgin Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān labial lips, and started to fuck me endlessly.
She didn’t even let me to act on my accord.
So ravenous Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was for me, for my Uncut Hindu Lund in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot that I could succeed to take her to the bank only after one complete month, not before it.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd fucked me in every position she could think of.
“I want your Hindu semen running through my veins instead of my blood.” she winked at me, fucking me ravenously.*
We went down in the elevator, walked to the bank a block.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim keeps a large amount in liquid money?” I asked still fucking her.
The only difference was that now she was my mare, my burrāq and now I was mounting Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd instead otherwise.
“Uncle likes to have cash on hand that he can use whenever he wants to for quick investments without bothering to sale stocks or bonds. He keeps unusually large amounts of cash, yes.” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim was very happy that now I was fucking her openly.
“You know the girls at the teller window?” I asked her when we reached the bank.
“Oh, yes,” she said, “not all of them, but still several of them. There are Nigār Ħabīb and Arjun Dhanurdhar fucking having a short line in front of their window.”
We took our place in the line.
I was still fucking her from her gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān behind.
The line thinned out at the window.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd endorsed the check and pushed it through the wicket.
“Hey, hello Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.” Arjun Dhanurdhar laughed, “Congratulations that ultimately you succeeded in winning our Mayor’s great unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“Thank you.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd cooed politely.
“A deposit?” Nigār Ħabīb asked smiling, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Not a deposit. I am cashing a check actually.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd smiled.
“All right,” Nigār Ħabīb opened a drawer, “how do you want it? You−” she looked at the check, paused in stiff arrested motion, said, “Excuse me for a moment, please.”
She handed the check to Arjun Dhanurdhar.
Arjun Dhanurdhar saw the check.
He smiled at me.
“Sir, I am sorry. I appreciate you are with her. But as it happens, there isn’t any money to cover this check.”*
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was startled.
“What? There isn’t any money to cover this check?”
“That’s right. There isn’t any money to cover this check.”
I grabbed her waist and pushed my Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt to my balls entirely.
“Take it easy. I anticipated it. That’s why I was trying to convince you. But you were so ravenous then that you didn’t hear me even a bit.”
“Okay, okay, you were right.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd pushed her buttocks even more into my lap, causing my Uncut Hindu Lund penetrate her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot even more and more, “Now, what?”
I started playing with her boobs fucking her passionately once more.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd said incredulously.
“When I left, there was more than one hundred million dollars in the account.”
“The account has been cleaned out by a court order.” Nigār Ħabīb informed, swallowing Arjun Dhanurdhar’s Uncut Hindu Prick into her ardent Musalmān Cunt, “It’s been transferred to a conservator. I think you must better see your uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. Maybe Mayor Sir can explain to you what has happened.”
“What’s the exact status of the account?” I asked Nigār Ħabīb.
“Sir, a court order was there appointing a conservator.” Nigār Ħabīb said, pushing her nude glorious ardent Musalmān buttocks into Arjun Dhanurdhar’s nude Hindu male lap, “The conservator asked for the balance in the account and wrote a check for the exact amount, transferring funds to an account in the name of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus as conservator.”*
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was dumbfounded.
“What? Al Safiyah Al Ghaus as conservator, not Al Nadīm Al Quddūs?”
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs?” Nigār Ħabīb raised her eyebrows, “Who is Al Nadīm Al Quddūs?”
“He is my Abbū.”
“He is the elder brother of my uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
“He deserved more to be a conservator if it was necessary. How the hell his ever cunning wife was appointed a conservator instead?”
“I don’t know. Neither was it any of the bank’s concern. You must go through the court proceedings for it.” Nigār Ħabīb said politely.
“When did all this happen?” I asked.
“Day before yesterday, sir.”
“Okay. I think I see.”
Both Nigār Ħabīb’s and Arjun Dhanurdhar’s eyes were sympathetic as Nigār Ħabīb handed the check back to Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
“I’m sorry,” Nigār Ħabīb said, and then added, “but that’s rather an unusual check.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd watched Nigār Ħabīb.
“I know it is. Yet, that’s the way Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim wanted it.”
“Well,” Arjun Dhanurdhar said politely, yet definitely, “you’d better have a talk with him. If you don’t mind, you should have a talk with this Al Safiyah Al Ghaus too. Do you know her?”
“Sure,” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd cooed, “the great lady caused the divorce of my Ammī, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd. She snatched away my Abbū, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, from my Ammī, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd. Then she deliberately disinherited me from my own real Abbū’s property. And now she is after disinheriting me from my uncle’s property as well.”
Nigār Ħabīb was surprised.
“And you let her do all these things to you?”
“I was a damn fool then, Nigār Ħabīb. I should have raped Durgesh already.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd said furiously.
Nigār Ħabīb flashed a sharp glance at me.
Then she turned back to Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
“That’s right. We Musalmān Beauties should understand who loves us actually and who doesn’t. I am sure now you are in right hands ultimately.”
“Ultimately.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd repeated bitterly.
“You have been away?”
“Yes, I was deliberately sent on a vacation nearly three months ago.”
“Apparently a good deal has happened while you’ve gone.”
“Quite a good deal, Nigār Ħabīb. Thanks for taking this much interest in me.”
“You are most welcome, ma’am. Never you need to mention it even. It’s our pleasure.”
We returned from the bank.
“Give me that damn check, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd. And give me that letter too. Now, let’s go to your Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s house. If possible, let’s talk with your uncle.”
“If possible? What do you mean?”*
I looked at her.
“Were you born yesterday? Can’t you understand what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is after? A conservator isn’t appointed by a court until and unless a person isn’t incompetent. Do you understand?”
“Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is thoroughly competent.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd said furiously.
“But he could be framed.”
“Allah,” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was horrified.
“He may have had a stroke or something. A person at that age is getting to a point where those things do happen if he/she isn’t extraordinarily careful. It’s quite obvious that there’s been a very drastic change in the situation while you were gone. It’s also quite possible that for some reason, this or that, it doesn’t count, you may not see your uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd’s eyes were dark with alarm.
“You think Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has−?”
“I don’t know. Your uncle was all right when he wrote that letter, but evidently, something has happened after that. Perhaps he isn’t getting well with his Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“Isn’t getting well with his Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus?” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd shouted desperately, “Who the hell she is? It’s his house. It’s his property. If he isn’t getting well with that bitch, why the hell he couldn’t get rid of her? He didn’t want them to come and see him in the first place.”
“Alright, let’s go.”*
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd managed to smile at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus too smiled at Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
“Oh, hello Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd. Congratulations that you’ve managed to get Durgesh’s unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund into your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.”
“Thank you.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd cooed.
“Did you have a good trip?”
“Oh, sure. What happened? Where’s Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd cunningly as if she was trying to determine whether Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was really that chicken.
Whether Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd really didn’t understand what she was up against?
“Your Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to be taken away.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cooed ultimately.
“Taken away?” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd registered her surprise, “Where? Why the hell?”
“He’s in a home where he’ll be given the best of care.”
“Where?” I interfered.
“Oh, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cooed once again, “Let me talk with my daughter. Will you please?”
“I’m not your daughter.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd said curtly, “I’d rather prefer to die if I have to be your daughter. Where is my uncle? I ask you again.”
“Don’t worry. He is better. We suppose you, of course, will want to move out just as soon as you can get your things together.”*
The smile on the beautiful lips of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was a cold and frosty smile.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd watched her in consternation.
It was a new thing for Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd that Al Safiyah Al Ghaus too had won my prize Uncut Hindu Lund for her ever cunning ever smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot in this three month period.
Nigār Ħabīb was right.
A great many things had happened that had changed the situation drastically in the three months she was deliberately sent away.
If Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim hadn’t anticipated it, if he hadn’t consulted Durgesh already, if they were not working already on the plan Durgesh proposed, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, the bitch, had made them beggars now successfully.
How necessary it was for a Musalmān Beauty to have Durgesh on her side.
As far as Durgesh is fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, the bitch, too, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd suspected it was not myself.
It must have been a robot.
A humanoid robot exactly identical to me.
Ved Nagar was a Dream City.
It was already in Robot–Space-and-Etheric Bodies era, despite the rest of the globe still didn’t want to enter in the same.
“We’ve locked up your bedroom so that your things will be safe, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus pushed her nude glorious Musalmān buttocks into my nude Hindu male lap, swallowing my entire rock hard Uncut Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever cunning ever smart Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“That’s very kind of you.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd cooed, “I’m glad however that you have ultimately successfully cuckolded my ever foolish Abbū, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. He deserved it.”
“Thank you.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cooed, too, “It wasn’t too difficult. You see, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was already running a movement Cuckold Your Musalmān husband. I had only to join it.”
“How do you feel that a humanoid robot is making love to you?”
“I can’t tell you. I never experienced that. How do you feel yourself? I think it’s better than a vibrator at least.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd laughed.
“It’s Durgesh himself making love to me, my dear stepmother. You check for yourself. The humanoid robots available in Ved Nagar have sometimes poor Hindu semen in their humanoid feigned Hindu balls.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cooed pleasantly, “Perhaps you are forgetting that I am a qualified MD medical specialist myself. I’ve checked the semen I allowed. It’s Durgesh’s Hindu semen no doubt. I think I’m pregnant moreover with Durgesh’s ever successful Hindu semen in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān womb.”
“Congratulations. Please congratulate my ever-foolish Abbū, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, too. He deserved it more than anyone else does. He couldn’t appreciate my Ammī, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s exclusive love for him. The moron.”
“When do you want to remove your things?”
“Never, my dear stepmother, never.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd watched Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cunningly, “You have successfully disinherited me from my own real Abbū, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s property because I was a damn fool then. Now, I am wiser. Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund’s injections in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, for more than one month nonstop, have cured my immense stupidity now for once and all.”
“Thank you. This is my home. It’s been my home ever since you were not even allowed here, neither your hen pecked cuckolded foolish husband, my Abbū, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. I’m certainly not going to move out. I am going to see Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and find out what this is all about.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
It was still a very pleasant sweetest melodic laugh however.
“Young lady, we’d like to have you out by tomorrow night. I’ve ordered my slave Al Nadīm Al Quddūs to figure on renting the house furnished. It will bring in a very tidy sum. You are not going to stay here anymore. You’ve sponged off your uncle long enough.”
“Sponged off?” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd laughed melodically too, “What do you mean my ever bitch stepmother? I’ve been taking care of him that even his own children didn’t do. Their own damn businesses were more important to them, instead of their ever providing Abbū. Uncle Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was even furious to disinherit all of them, but I convinced him not to do it. That’s his billions are still intact. Otherwise, there was nothing for you even. Why, you, yourself, told me that I had been working too hard and I needed to take a three months’ vacation.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus pushed her immensely beautiful gorgeous glorious buttocks into my nude Hindu male lap once more.
I had pulled out my Uncut Hindu Prick from her Musalmān Cunt until only its head was inside.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus swallowed my entire rock hard Uncut Hindu Lund into her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once more.
Her corpulent, obese, fat, fleshy, rotund, plump, Musalmān buttocks again vanished into my nude Hindu male lap.
She squeezed her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Lund strongly.
I felt immense sexual bliss pervading my entire Hindu male body through my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“I’ve found a lot of things about you since you left, young lady,” she said bitterly to Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, “I have been appointed conservator of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s property and I certainly intend to conserve the property. I intend to keep it from being wasted and dissipated, or given to shrewd and designing persons. I have more than enough evidence now, young lady, that you were intending to play on Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my younger brother in law, for a good thing and get all of his money even disinheriting all of his own children. Shame on you. You are too greedy even to wait for Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s death. Instead, you have been milking my younger brother in law right along.”
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?”
“That’s good. Make sure all the doors are locked.”
Musarrat Kħālid nodded,
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.
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?
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.
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.
Durgesh is too prudent, too realistic.
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?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam