” … First we gotta get a newspaper so we can find a place to stay. Remember we talked about this last night?”
“Yes. Okay. Uh… Over there,” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD said, looking about herself again and pointing across the street at the newspaper box there.
“Lead on, then,” I allowed, taking her suitcase and giving her that role in the hopes it would lift her spirits somehow.
It seemed to work a little.
I followed behind her as she marched across the sidewalk, her head held just a little higher, maybe with some remembered ‘parental’ responsibility.
She paid the box, took a newspaper and then led the way across another sidewalk and into the square.
There was a huge, two story gazebo in the center of the nicely mowed, grassy park area with paved walkways that were lined with benches, flower beds and some scattered shrubbery.
We sat near the gazebo, only the lightest Atlantic breeze ruffling the pages on that warm day in early August as she performed a focused search up and down the ‘apartments for rent’ columns, her gold colored Parker held in her perfect white teeth until she found something that looked as promising as her cash reserves could afford.
Before long, we were off again, both the newspaper and the map folded in her hands, her stride yet a little more purposeful, chin higher as I followed Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, Muħammad’s Ammī, to a pay phone.
She briefly spoke to someone concerning the apartment before we went to look at what would hopefully be a roof over her head, at least for the time being, until I persuade her to take my financial help too as well as my courtesy help.
It was, but not much more.
“Hello, we just spoke on the phone?” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD politely, if nervously told the Superintendent who greeted us outside the four story brick building on the corner.
Wisely using her maiden name to avoid any recognition the media had provided for, she introduced herself.
“I’m Āmnah Åbbās, this is my son in law, Durgesh.”
The Super was just about her height, maybe a half inch taller, stocky but not exactly fat with graying hair and somewhat dark complexion.
He was dressed in green work clothes and a red, sleeveless jack shirt, work boots looking like they were produced the same year as the approximately two hundred year old structure he maintained.
He looked us over, his pale, almost washed out blue eyes glancing over Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD’s body like those of the traffic accident victim had earlier. He smiled, stuck his meaty hand out and replied.
“Al Raħīm Al Åbbās, pleased to meet you. Sorry, I thought you were husband and wife. I can’t believe still now that he isn’t your husband.”
“What nonsense,” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD said to him curtly, “he isn’t my husband. He is my daughters’ husband, I say.”
“Well,” Al Raħīm Al Åbbās watched us incredulously, “how old are you, Ma’am?”
“He has a computer screen open to him, Āmnah, I think it has information about us. Answer him truthfully. He is just checking.” I warned her.
Al Raħīm Al Åbbās smiled at me,
“Is your wife now angry with you, sir?”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD shouted,
“Hey, I’m not his wife, I say.”
“Ma’am, your information isn’t correct. Sorry, we can’t rent you the apartment. Sir, please explain to your wife.”
“What the hell,” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD thundered at Al Raħīm Al Åbbās, “I say…”
I squeezed her hand significantly,
“It’s all right, darling. Please, let me talk.”
“No,” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD said curtly, “how the hell he is calling me your wife?”
“Well, Ma’am,” Al Raħīm Al Åbbās said politely, “the computer says that your daughters refused to accept your new Hindu husband their stepfather. They were already in love with him. After you started to Live in relationship with your son in law…”
“He isn’t my son in law…” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD shouted again, angrily.
Al Raħīm Al Åbbās smiled,
“Thank you. Now, please sign here and write under your signature, ‘Wife of Durgesh’, please,”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD looked at me furiously,
“You are watching? You are watching only? What the hell are you for, with me, if you can’t even rent for me an apartment?”
“It’s all right, Āmnah,” I circled my arm around her waist, pulled her to me and hugged, “Will you please just wait in the lobby or restaurant so that I complete the legal formality.”
“Very well. Please do.” She stomped her foot as an irate wife does to her polite husband, and marched out to the restaurant.
Al Raħīm Al Åbbās smiled.
“I sympathize with you, sir. What a temper? Allah Allah .”
“It’s alright. She pays on the bed for what she does elsewhere.” I smiled too.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Al Raħīm Al Åbbās laughed understandingly, “well, I must congratulate you, I think. She is tremendously beautiful.”
“I think Ma’am’s unique Musalmān beauty played a large role in accepting her too as your Live in relationship partner after her daughters.”
“I must say your information is very well provided. May I ask the source of your information?” I gave him a hundred dollar bill.
Al Raħīm Al Åbbās pocketed it gratefully smiling, and consulted the computer.
“Thank you very much, sir. The information is mostly provided by her ex-husband Mr. Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī. You are her second husband? Aren’t you?”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD suddenly returned there marching in, she hadn’t gone to lobby/restaurant perhaps.
Perhaps she was listening to our conversation standing outside and waiting for me.
“The bloody bastard,” she said, gritting through her teeth, “so he has told to the hoteliers and apartment owners that I’m your wife? Durgesh, I say…”
“Shut up, Āmnah,” I said curtly, “Keep quite. Let me talk. Well, come on and sign here as my wife.”*
She was furious, yet she knew she couldn’t do anything.
The more than one month longer Honeymoon of her with me, had given Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī the opportunity he needed to run away.
Well, now she knew Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī actually loved her very much.
Yes, now it has been proved that Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī was actually a criminal as the most of the other Musalmīn were.
But he provided her a new ever competent Hindu husband, Durgesh, before leaving her for ever.
He himself had taken Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis between his thumb and forefinger and himself positioned it between her labial lips.
How crazy she was for even longer than one month!
Durgesh fucked her…
No, she herself fucked Durgesh madly.
She forgot absolutely that she had seven daughters too who are already Living in relationship with Durgesh.
How the hell could they face their friends and acquaintances if she also join their bed?
Allah, how selfish she was.
Yes, Durgesh fucked her marvelously.
That was what Durgesh is reputed for exclusively actually.
But she couldn’t enjoy the luxury.
She isn’t so lucky.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD has to think of her seven daughters too.
It wasn’t an apartment at all.
Not even close.
It was a room, approximately ten by ten feet.
Just as dingy as the stairs and hallway, there was a single, tall window directly opposite the door.
The plaster walls were painted an old, filthy yellow with royal blue trim.
On the right wall was a fireplace and mantle, a steel cover bolted securely over the opening that was covered in god knows how many layers of thick paint.
The left wall showcased a large area of missing plaster, tinder dry, horizontal slats showing like ribs.
There was no furniture and nothing at all sitting on the heavily scuffed and scratched hardwood floor, save for the plaster that had fallen from the wall, the only fixture being a naked bulb in the center of the twelve foot ceiling.
“This is it,” Al Raħīm Al Åbbās said, as though to casually confirm her worst fears, “sir, I can’t believe the Ma’am and you can live here.”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD smiled.
“We need a place for some time where none of the creditors of my former criminal husband can disturb us. My new husband is the multi zillionaire you know.”
“That’s the point, Ma’am. Your husband can provide you anything. But…”
“We are grateful to you, Durgesh, please give him some more money so that he can understand we are deliberately passing our night here as far as tonight is concerned.”
Al Raħīm Al Åbbās saluted her,
“If you want to establish that you both are here tonight, but actually want to enjoy your night at some five star hotel, even that can be arranged clandestinely.”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD looked at me.
“My dear husband,” she said sarcastically, “please tell him I want to be alone now with you. After all, a ‘wife’ has a right to be alone with her ‘husband’, hasn’t she?”
I looked at Al Raħīm Al Åbbās.
He saluted us immediately and left the room.
“The hell, Āmnah,” I said bitterly, “I would never allow you to live in this hell, even for a night.”
“Nonsense,” she said bitterly, “Don’t screw my self-respect now. You have already screwed me for more than one month. Isn’t that enough?”
My Uncut Hindu Lund immediately hardened as soon as she reminded me her Honeymoon with me.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD looked at my Hindu erection and she was suddenly horrified,
“No, Durgesh, no. Not any more.”
“Suck me.” I said gravely.
“No, I say,”
“Stop saying now and listen to me, you idiot. If you don’t want to be left alone here, in this hell, undress me, undress yourself and start giving me the blowjob you gave me when Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī was too present there, your then husband.”
She looked at me horrified,
“You…you can’t leave me here alone.”
“That’s right. Do what I tell you. After a nice fuck, we are going to the world tour immediately on our own ship.”
“No,” she tried to say, but I pulled her to me, undressed her, undressed myself, and kissed her immensely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
She tried to resist but her mouth involuntarily went to my Uncut Hindu Lund automatically.
Soon, she was giving me the blowjob I demanded for.
I kissed her entire nude body once more, her gorgeous nude Musalmān buttocks, her thighs, her…
She was bubbling with immense sexual lust now.
She herself pushed me on the floor on my back, straddled me on my rock hard perpendicular Uncut Hindu Lund, positioned it herself between her vaginal lips and thrust her now ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot on it.
My Uncut Hindu Lund started penetrating her ardent Musalmān Choot once more.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD was thrusting again and again.
It entered, first the head only, then one fourth, then half, then three fourth, and then completely.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD bit her lower lip, and paused.
“Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī hasn’t fucked you properly.” I smiled, “Despite my Uncut Hindu Lund was there constantly nonstop for more than one month, pounding you, you still can’t take it in one go.”
She too smiled,
“He only had a cut Musalmān nūnī , you have a real Uncut Hindu Lund. Allah, let me digest the experience that it’s once more inside me.”
I was playing with her gorgeous nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
“You haven’t any moral right to enjoy it there. You didn’t want to fuck me. I compelled you.”
“Even then, you aren’t fucking me now, I’m fucking you once more.” She winked at me.
“Yes, that’s right, after all.” I smiled.
“Let me fuck you then as I damn please.”
“We have to leave this room as soon as possible.”
“It’s not for my any wife, especially as beautiful as you are.”
“Allah, am I really as beautiful as you say?”
“Sālī, my Uncut Hindu Lund is fully inside your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. Can’t you experience how violently it’s throbbing there?”*
She was brought on the ship still being fucked by me vigorously.
To her immense surprise, the ship was full of immensely beautiful nude Musalmān houseladies.
Every one of them was similarly on her nude knees and elbows as Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD herself was.
Moreover, I was fucking everyone of them from their exquisite nude behind, as I was fucking Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD.
“I know most of them personally. But I never knew they were also a part of your infinite Harem of us Musalmān Beauties and extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies.”
“Not Harem, my Sex Empire.” I winked at her.*
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD was trying her best to adjust herself to the new utmost high environment.
She was rich, even richer as compared to her so many friends, but hadn’t even dream of her new Hindu husband would be the number one richest man of the entire Multiverse.
It was a completely new experience for her.
As far as the Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog was concerned, it wasn’t too new for her.
She had already successfully practiced it for even more than one month.
After one month, she could think of her new problems to lead the new utmost highest life she couldn’t even dream of ever.
“We have to find out Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī, Durgesh.” Pushing back her ever glorious heavy big nude Musalmān buttocks Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD looked at me gravely. My entire throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund had vanished fully into her ever aggressive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, “The media is charging us both that we cheated on Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī. He could not show his face to his friends and acquaintances. We even snatched away his money from him.”
“Well,” I said fucking Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD savagely, “there’s no use speculating. Let’s get on deck. You said you have seen his glimpse right on our own ship. Let’s find out if your assumption is correct.”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD was enjoying the constant protection of my ever powerful nude Hindu male lap, every time when her nude gorgeous Musalmān buttocks filled it.
What a great shelter to her ever gorgeous Musalmān buttocks.
She had never felt so safe before.
Nothing to worry for any Musalmān Beauty and any extremely beautiful Musalmān houselady that was being fucked by Durgesh nonstop.
Her ever responsible Hindu life partner is always with her to take care of everything of her.
What the hell more, then, a woman needs from her man?
“You think we can still find him?” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD constricted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my deepest embedded Uncut Hindu Lund.
“I think so,” I kissed her on her lips warmly.
“Promise me to always stand by me.” She again pushed her gorgeous Musalmān buttocks into my lap.
“You still need my verbal promise? Isn’t my Uncut Hindu Lund constantly promising into your Musalmān Choot, ever pounding it nonstop, already, that it needs your Musalmān Choot around it for ever as your Musalmān Choot needs my Uncut Hindu Lund into it for ever?”
“Thank you.” She kissed me passionately, “Come on, let’s go.”
As she was opening the door, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD suddenly gave a gasp of dismay.
I was already enjoying both of her utmost soft globes of joy filling my nude Hindu male lap and playing with her bare Musalmān tits.
I turned her mouth to me,
“Hey, why the gasp of dismay? What is it?”
“Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī,” she said, “as I had seen him, isn’t it possible that he had also seen me?”
“Well,” I said, “only a blind person can’t see you. You are the main center of attraction here on the ship, my lady.”
“Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī knew we were definitely having a showdown. He knew despite his loyalty to arrange you for me, he didn’t do anything good to me. He knew I had seen him on the ship. Moreover, the ship was now mine too. I too own it now with you. He knew he couldn’t keep up his pretenses any longer. He knew our entire daughters’ happiness depended… oh, Durgesh darling, you don’t suppose Saiyad Åbdullah Hāshmī went on deck and…and…”
“Committed suicide?” I prompted.
She nodded innocently.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” She intensified her back and forth movements of her ever pink Musalmān buttocks, “I’m afraid…that would leave my daughters, your wives, in the clear. Wouldn’t it?”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam