The womankind everfirst
It was in the evening when the telegram from the Swedish Embassy in Ved Nagar clattered through the electric machine of the telegraph office.
The girl on the machine at the time pulled the message out with a yell.
“Look it who won the Nobel Prize!” she shouted.
The other girls came out of their chairs running, and the jubilation, the joyousness attracted the three delivery humanoid robots also.
Ved Nagar didn’t have any human servants at all.
Eventually, the exclamations and the buzz of excitement brought Muħammad Ħanīf, the manager, out of his cozy cubicle.
He was reading the Constitution of Ved Nagar and drinking a juice, beside the heater.
Muħammad Ħanīf appeared buttoning his trouser up.
“What’s up?” he called out, “What’s up? What’s going on here?”
One of the girls passed the strip of tape to Muħammad Ħanīf.
He read it.
Muħammad Ħanīf grinned broadly.
“Allah! Alħamdulillāhi rabbil åālmīn. It’s a big day for all of us.”
“Let me deliver it.” One of the girls offered cheerfully.
“What do you think of me, Nūr Jahān Ħāmid Jamīl?” Muħammad Ħanīf smiled at her, “Am I a damn fool? This is solemn occasion. Isn’t it? This is something Mr. Muħammad Ħanīf would do personally.”
“Bet you just want to have yourself another look at your fiancée, Al Zubaydah Al Nādir.”
Muħammad Ħanīf was startled somewhat.
He never anticipated Nūr Jahān Ħāmid Jamīl could dare such a tease to him.
Nūr Jahān Ħāmid Jamīl was interested in Durgesh, yet she couldn’t get anywhere near Mr. Mayor.
It wasn’t that Nūr Jahān Ħāmid Jamīl wasn’t beautiful.
If it would have been so, Nūr Jahān Ħāmid Jamīl would never herself had dreamed of Durgesh.
The fact that Nūr Jahān Ħāmid Jamīl was extremely beautiful had made her dare to dream of Mr. Mayor.
“Take care, sister,” Muħammad Ħanīf said sympathetically, “This message here is too important. You get it ready now.”
He read the message once more.
‘IN RECOGNITION OF… IN SUPPORT OF HUMANITARIAN IDEALS… THE NOBEL FOUNDATION OF STOCKHOLM ON BEHALF OF SWEDISH ACADEMY IS PLEASED TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU HAVE TODAY BEEN VOTED THIS YEAR’S NOBEL PRIZE. THE PRIZE WILL BE A GOLD MEDALLION AND A CHEQUE FOR ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS STOP THE AWARD CEREMONY WILL TAKE PLACE IN STOCKHOLM ON DECEMBER TWENTY FOURTH STOP DETAILS FOLLOW STOP HEARTIEST CONGRATULATIONS STOP…’
For Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān it was always a pleasure to lie on the hard table in the darkened room beside the elaborate electrocardiograph equipment.
Only few people could understand it.
An efficient, antiseptic nurse dabbed the paste on her chest, arms and legs, and then applied the electrodes with their five lead wires-one to her chest, two to her arms and two to her legs.
This experience was soothing, relaxing, and always conducive, always helpful to clear thinking.
She engaged twice a year in this experience at the behest of the Ved Nagar Government.*
This evening, however, as Al Zāhidah Al Imrān stretched on the table, chest, arms, legs bared, half watching the beautiful nurse attach the cool electrodes to her beautiful skin.
Her pleasure was shadowed faintly by apprehension.
She reasoned that the apprehension had entered into the EKG test because today the test was especially important.
In the three years past, since she had accepted the Government’s offer to join the high-level staff of the Society for Basic Research outside Ved Nagar, she had attended these checkups, one in January and one in July, as a matter of routine.
The tests were never against her.
She changed her medical experts.
Yet, the report never changed.
It was always the same.
But then why has he established Ved Nagar, instead of Dārussalām?
She wasn’t medically fit those seven years ago.
She isn’t medically fit again after she returned to her ever loving husband, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb.
“You shouldn’t have come to me again, Zāhidah.” Her ever-loving husband, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb, had said.
“Why don’t you understand, Rashīd, I love you.” Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān said with tearful eyes, “You sent me to him I detest very much. Aren’t seven years enough to find out he isn’t a Muslim and he would never be.”
“That’s not our problem exactly, Al Zāhidah Al Imrān.” her ever loving husband, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb, tried gravely to explain to her, “Our exact problem is that I want you to live, to be alive, if not for yourself, for me, for our daughters, and now for our sons too.”
“They aren’t our sons, my ever loving husband, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb. Durgesh has fathered them.”
“Nevertheless, you are their Ammī, their real mother. Aren’t you?”
“Why did you sent me to Durgesh, Rashīd? Why the hell did you sent me to him?”
“But even seven years couldn’t cure me.”
“You were cured entirely.”
“Then why it’s again there as soon as I returned to you?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās would remember the evening as a crucial moment of self-revelation in her mature years.
Twenty-eight was a mature year.
Some persons really run far ahead of their actual age.
She wasn’t even a bit ashamed of herself that Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās caught her red handed.
“Red handed?” Al Zubaydah Al Nādir smiled at Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās patronizingly, “What the hell do you mean, Saåīdah? I wasn’t committing a theft. Was I? I am already eighteen. I am an adult legally and I have chosen my life partner. What’s wrong in that?”
“Durgesh is sixty six already. He is forty eight years older than you.”
“I haven’t any objection even a bit.” Al Zubaydah Al Nādir winked at Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, “Although I never believe he is more than twenty eight. Some of my girl friends say he himself looks never more than eighteen himself. Just eighteen Just Adult himself.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nādir again winked at her,
“Durgesh is incredible, isn’t he?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās watched her wristwatch.
It was 6:18.
She remembered reading somewhere that most of the dummy clocks used for advertising by American jewelers were set or painted in, at about 8:18 in the incorrect belief that this was the moment that Abraham Lincoln had died.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās never liked it.
Abraham Lincoln’s death should not be remembered.
His great life must be remembered instead.
He believed in immortality always.
That’s why Durgesh was so ever young that none could tell he was sixty-six.
Durgesh had won it even before for establishing religion as an everlasting endless movement of humanity whether it was Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Persianism or any other religion whatsoever.
In this historical ship, there were many Nobel Prize winners.
The magnificent green vessel of HVSI had, an hour ago, left behind the coast of Ved Nagar and was now cutting through the choppy, the uneven sea toward the Swedish port of Göetborg.*
Al Zubaydah Al Nādir smiled.
“Do you know what does HVSI stands for?”
“Sure,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās watched her cousin gravely,
“Humane Values Secured Infinitely.”
“Muħammad Ħanīf claims it isn’t true.”
“Your fiancé? That’s manager at Swedish Embassy, Ved Nagar?”
“Social or Political?” Al Zubaydah Al Nādir asked evocatively.
“Can you tell me of another organization, only single one, that protects humane values as sincerely and as profoundly as HVSI?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said, “HVSI is matchless in everything humane profoundly.”
“I agree with you.” Al Zubaydah Al Nādir said honestly.
They heard footsteps directly behind them.
Both of them twisted quickly.
Their beautiful faces were smiling to greet me.
Their reactions didn’t hide their disappointment.
“Sorry. You both the girls were expecting Durgesh perhaps.”
“Sure,” Al Zubaydah Al Nādir cooed, “However, it’s better you, Kħālājān, than none anyone.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās didn’t even looked at her Ammī.
“It’s better we shouldn’t talk on it.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said tersely, “I never imagined my mother is as selfish and as lacking gratefulness as you are. You are never grateful what Durgesh did for you for seven long years.”
“You can’t understand, Biŧŧo. You haven’t married someone who is as great as your Abbū, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb.”
“I agree with you. Most of the Pseudo Musalmīn let their wives die instead of surrendering them for Sex Therapy. I’m really proud of my Abbū, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb, that he is one of the great true Musalmīn. Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam brought Islam to protect the lives of the Årab womankind who were being buried alive when they were only a child. Durgesh says Doctor Ali Sina and his co-authors never talk of this greatest achievement of Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam and the true Musalmīn of that time. Yes, the true Islam couldn’t survive as long as it should have due to the ever selfish imperial activities and ambitions of Yazīd malåūn lånat ålayhi, nevertheless it doesn’t mean Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam absolutely failed in his sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam greatest mission of establishing humanity in then Arab and the other countries.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās watched her Ammī ironically.
“I don’t believe it’s only because I live in relationship with him. He is the ever utmost successful Sex Therapist. He is doing some kind of Sex Therapy only known to him and to none else ever.” Al Zāhidah Al Imrān said, “I have lived in relationship with Durgesh for seven long years despite the fact that I hate him immensely for his ever shrewdest sexual relationships with the infinite Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān houseladies. Durgesh is a never curable utmost communal Hindu that have utmost pride in having sex with extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies.”
“You still hate him?”
“Yet you love him immensely when he penetrates you.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled ironically.
“That’s the problem. I am unable to control my physical needs, my physical body. It loves the Hindu beast exclusively. It doesn’t love your Abbū, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb, your father. It hates him for he never made me love as wildly as Durgesh does always.”
None of both was startled.
It wasn’t an unknown fact to anyone of her now.
“My brain loves Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb and hates Durgesh immensely,” Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān sighed helplessly, “While my body ravenously craves for Durgesh and hates Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb to the extent that I want to cuckold Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb to Durgesh and myself. While alone, I enjoy proudly that Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb has himself surrendered me to Durgesh that he should have sex with me, Sex Therapy my foot, and cure me. But when I return to my senses, I hate myself for it. I pray in my Salawāt, ‘Allah, punish me tremendously for what I’m doing with my ever loving ever moral husband.”
“I know, what do you think I’m a damn fool?” Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān laughed ironically lightly, “I’m myself a PhD, girlies. Yes, I never got Nobel Prize for any services of humanity I rendered; nevertheless, I myself am never inhuman. Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās hates me today for something I don’t have any control over. She is a Nobel Prize winner now for her humanitarian ideals, yet she refuses deliberately to understand my disorder. Humanitarian ideals! Haha!”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had herself asked the same question.
Durgesh understands it perfectly.
Her Abbū, Maulānā Al Rashīd Al Wahāb, understands it perfectly.
Why doesn’t Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself?
Why doesn’t Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās have any sympathy with her own Ammī?
Why Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās is so irrational?
I smiled patronizingly.
“Certainly not, my sweetie, never. I never want anyone to convert into anything s/he doesn’t want to be ever. Hinduism and Islam aren’t two separate religions at all. You just be a good Muslim, instead of being or remaining one of the Pseudo Musalmīn. Even Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā never wanted it. Otherwise, there were never any revelation of Allopanishad.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās calmed herself.
Hell, Allah! She should have never reacted such childishly.
Most of the non-Muslims have the same complaint.
Most of the Musalmīn never react rationally.
They never try to understand what actually the non Muslim opposite him/her wants to say.
They just suspect him/her that he/she is trying to divert him/her from Islam and act irrationally furiously.
“They say it’s written by some Musalmīn in the regime of Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar to convert Hindus into Islam. It is the basic holy book of Dīn-e-Ilāhī, a religion established by Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The womankind everfirst
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The womankind everfirst
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās thought all my Musalmān stepdaughters have a secret desire to make love to their father, because she thought all the girls had it for their real fathers even.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew she herself was one.
Her Ammī returned to her real Abbū, Al Rashīd Al wahāb, even when Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was very young.
Durgesh was of course a very good man.
She had lived entire seven years with Durgesh now.
Durgesh had given her two sons even.
He was never interested in Islam, neither he could ever be.
It was the greatest tragedy of the entire humanity that it never knew the actual importance of religion.
A religion was actually an international movement of humanity that always needed updation.
Overnight, for Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, Durgesh became a single parent, and For Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās I became her whole world.
In this particular house, especially, I had named after Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, ‘Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās Mansion’.
It was now owned by Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās and me.
I had offered her to transfer it in her sole name on her twenty eighth birthday, even if Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās would leave me with her Ammī.
“I’d never leave you.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās cried, “I hate my real parents. They shamelessly suggested me to live here with you until my twenty eighth birthday. They suggested I should leave you after getting this vast Mansion entirely in my name. Shame on them. Can’t Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās live here alone with you forever?”
I hugged Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās,
“Your twenty eighth birthday is not very far away. Only one week is remaining. Take your Mansion entirely on your name alone as my good bye gift, my parting gift to you.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās hugged me and started to cry,
“I’d never leave you. I’d never let you down as my Ammī, Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān did.”
In her opinion, she couldn’t have asked for a more loving and attentive father.
Sometimes Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās felt guilty that I was so alone in this vast Mansion, even if I had my infinite women everywhere.
Ultimately, none of them was here, after her Ammī, Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān, returned to her real Abbū.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew I would never blame Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās for anything, but Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wasn’t naive enough not to realize a man had needs.
She wasn’t a child anymore.
Only after a week, she would be twenty-eight herself.
She was already a PhD.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās also knew very well that somehow, someway, she would have to find a way to satisfy those needs herself.
I was everything to Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
She would sometimes gaze at me adoringly when I wasn’t looking.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had always thought me a quite handsome man with my chiseled features and muscular build, which Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās attributed to all those years working sex therapy and various other forms of manual sex labor for needy Musalmān houseladies.
Her hands were always soft and gentle whenever Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās would hug me.
Sometimes I caught Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās holding on to me a little longer than maybe she should have, as she took in my manly scent of Old Spice and peppermint.
And more than once Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās would get a strong tingling sensation between her legs whenever Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās would hold me or she would snuggle up to me next on the couch while I was watching TV.
Simply put, I was something as if a god to Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
The more I tried to explain to her that I was nothing as she thought, the more her adoration for me intensified.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās worshipped the ground I walked on.
But I didn’t know just how strong her feelings were for me until one time when she made what Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās fondly refer to as her special discovery.
It was one afternoon when Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had come home from University.
Now Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was 28 and was a PhD herself.
She didn’t allow me to transfer the Mansion in her sole name.
Neither had she left me.
I kept silent not to offend her that her real parents wanted her to leave me after her twenty eighth birthday.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew I was already home from work since my limousine was parked in the driveway.
Sometimes I came home from work a little early, so Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wasn’t alarmed when she saw my limousine parked in front of the house.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was alarmed, however, by some sound that seemed to be coming to her from my bedroom.
Worried, she dropped her purse on the floor of the living room and hurried to my bedroom to see if I needed her help.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās soon discovered, however, that she was “helping” me in a most unexpected way.
Since I didn’t like her just barging into my room unannounced, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās slowly opened the door to my room just a crack and was about to call out for me.
The moaning got louder the closer she got to my room.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās quickly discovered why, when Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās made her special discovery.
I was fucking one of her friends, her Kħālāzād cousin actually, Al Zubaydah Al Nādir.
She was Just Eighteen Just Adult.
Moreover, she was Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Kħālāzād cousin, almost exactly identical to Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself.
For one moment, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās thought that she was watching her fantasy in her dream.
I was fucking Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself.
Her Kħālā was so exactly identical to Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Ammī that I had fucked her Kħālā instead of Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Ammī millions of times, and never knew it was her Kħālā.
The mystery was disclosed when her Kħālā gave birth to a handsome son that was exactly identical to my son her Ammī had given birth simultaneously.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Kħālū immediately divorced Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Kħālā.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Ammī pleaded to me that I should accept her Kħālā too.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās gazed us, and her own mouth fell open.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās touched her chest and was about to suck in a quick breath.
She quickly stopped herself.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās didn’t want me to notice her crouching behind the door and seeing that Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was exactly identical to her Kħālāzād cousin.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew what I was doing to her Kħālāzād cousin, even though Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself was not sexually experienced.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās hadn’t, even yet, been so much as kissed by a boy.
Simply put, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was still a virgin.
At her twenty eight even.
It proved her immensely high moral character.
She was a real Musalmān.
S/he was a true Musalmān.
About the only sexual experience Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had was whenever she touched herself at night as she lay alone in bed, and that was pretty much it.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had overheard some girls at University talking about “fucking and playing with themselves” but she didn’t know exactly what they meant until seeing me fucking her Kħālāzād cousin herself.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew she should have just walked away since a daughter is not supposed to see her father like that.
Nevertheless, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās just stood there mesmerized by the sight of me with my Uncut Hindu Cock vanishing in and out of her exactly identical Kħālāzād cousin and friend, Al Zubaydah Al Nādir, furiously.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew what that was, too, even though that was yet another sexual experience she had yet to discover for herself.
Up to that point, the only penises Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had seen were on the Internet.
Hey, a girl can be curious!
But seeing a real live one was a totally different experience.
As Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās stood there watching me fucking Al Zubaydah Al Nādir in that manner, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās couldn’t help but notice how I kept glancing over at the top of her desk.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself glanced over to see what I kept looking at and was shocked to discover a picture of her Ammī in a one-piece red bikini that I had taken of her when we went to the beach on one of our typical family outings just a few weeks ago.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās too wanted to wear a two-piece bikini, but being the stern loving father I was, I wouldn’t allow it for what Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās thought were obvious reasons.
I was pleasuring myself with Al Zubaydah Al Nādir to a picture of her Ammī!
As the initial shock wore off, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās started to feel a little, well, flattered that I found her Ammī still attractive enough to pleasure myself, even fucking her Ammī’s exactly identical, Al Zubaydah Al Nādir.
What a damnfool her Ammī was.
Her real Abbū never loved her so much as I still did.
As far as I was concerned, actually I wasn’t fucking Al Zubaydah Al Nādir at all.
Now there are some people who would probably say at the point Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās should have been outraged that I was still looking at her Ammī in that way.
Nevertheless, the simple truth of the matter was, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wasn’t.
In fact, not only was Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās not outraged in the slightest by what I was doing with her Ammī’s bikini-clad picture, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās also felt those familiar tingling sensations come back between her legs full-force.
Was Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself not more identical to her Ammī, Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān, than even her Kħālāzād cousin, Al Zubaydah Al Nādir, was?
Why don’t the hell Durgesh fuck Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself, instead of fucking her Kħālāzād cousin, Al Zubaydah Al Nādir?
I started fucking Al Zubaydah Al Nādir harder and faster as I increased the speed.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās quickly lifted her dress, slipped her hand inside her dampening panties, and touched her hard throbbing clitty with the tip of her forefinger.
She quickly stifled a loud moan that was about to escape her lips since the last thing Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wanted to do was shock me that Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was watching me get myself off to her Ammī’s picture, even while fucking her Ammī’s identical, her Kħālāzād cousin, Al Zubaydah Al Nādir.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew I was about to climax as I gripped the waist of Al Zubaydah Al Nādir harder and fucked her even faster.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, too, felt herself about to come as Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was frantically rubbing her little clitty with her fingertip, with her mouth close tight, so I wouldn’t still hear her. All of a sudden, I threw my head back and let out a long drawn-out moan as my white stuff spurted out of the tip of my big penis into Al Zubaydah Al Nādir’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt, over and over several times.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew what the “white stuff” was since they taught about all that stuff in Health class in University. So Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wasn’t that sexually inexperienced after all!
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās slipped a finger inside of her and climaxed herself as Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās watched me come into Al Zubaydah Al Nādir.
That time she didn’t stop herself from moaning and Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās fell face-forward into my room.
To say I was shocked to see her there, especially in the, let’s say, condition we were both in, would have been a severe understatement.
“Honey,” I tried not to stammer, trying in vain to cover Al Zubaydah Al Nādir and myself. “Hell! What the hell are you doing in here?”
It was then that I noticed her dress hiked up and her hand still buried down inside her drenched panties.
“And what in the world are you doing with your hand down,”
I paused as if I couldn’t allow myself to admit that Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān’s own daughter, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, played with herself too,
“…down there like that?”
“Funny, ‘Daddy’,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said with a naughty grin, “I could ask you the exact same thing!”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās stood up, still grinning at me, and said something Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wouldn’t have normally said to me:
“You aren’t my father actually. Are you? Only my Ammī, Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān, was your live in relationship partner. And some would say you shouldn’t be fucking Al Zubaydah Al Nādir to the pictures of my Ammī. She isn’t your live in relationship partner any more.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās pointed at the bikini-clad picture of her Ammī, Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān, placed on my desk.
I glanced at the photo yet my face never flushed a bright red even for a second.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās giggled at the sight of her Kħālāzād cousin’s embarrassment, which was something else Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās normally would not have done to her.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās didn’t know what was coming over her, as that was not like Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās to act in such a flirty way, especially not with me.
It was right there standing in my room that she came to the realization that I was still in love with her Ammī, Begum Al Zāhidah Al Imrān, even when she had returned to her real Abbū.
Subconsciously, she probably knew that, but Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wouldn’t allow herself to admit that the society conditions didn’t allow us to have these type of feelings for those who are the closest and dearest to us.
But standing there in my bedroom after seeing me pleasure myself to her Ammī’s picture and realizing that I had these kind of feelings, sexual feelings, for Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Ammī still now, perhaps I may say society be damned!
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās strode over to where I was fucking Al Zubaydah Al Nādir.
She didn’t take her eyes off me as Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās stood before me and leaned back against my desk.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās reached behind me, grabbed her Ammī’s photo and gazed down at it.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās gazed back at me and grinned at me again.
“So, Daddy,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said as seductively as she could, “you must really like that picture of my Ammī, huh?”
That was, until Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās reached down and lightly touched the base of my wet penis with the tip of her forefinger.
I jumped back with Al Zubaydah Al Nādir, still embedded in her, and glared at Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, as Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was one sick little puppy, in spite of what I just got through doing with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Ammī’s picture.
“What the hell are you doing?” I thundered at Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās reached down again and dipped her finger into the slippery length of my penis that was still dripping with my white hot come and Al Zubaydah Al Nādir’s fragrent Musalmān Pussy juices.
“Don’t,” I ordered sternly.
“Stop,” I said even more firmly. “Stop immediately. It still isn’t your own picture,” I paused, “it’s your Ammī’s. Damn you.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās leaned her head closer to mine and said to me in a soothing voice,
“I’m NOT your daughter exactly, and I love you very much, and I know you love me very much.”
“Stop, I say,” I demanded in a commanding voice. “We should never do it. It’s wrong.” I shook my head at Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās. “It’s so wrong.”
“Is it, Durgesh darling?”
I was genuinely surprised, even a little shocked, that Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had asked me such a question.
Then, as if I had contemplated her question in my mind, I slowly leaned forward on Al Zubaydah Al Nādir and gave up trying to stop her.
To the extent she had already gone, it was futile now to stop her.
None of my Musalmān stepdaughters maintained her platonic relationship with me.
I was only an immensely competent man for them they could have their live in relationship with, never a father.
For them I had both money and honey.
None could provide them the incredible sex I always was capable to, neither anyone had that much money always pouring in infinitely as I had.
It tasted hot and salty in her mouth.
Moreover, it slid more easily back and forth between her lips.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had never sucked a man’s cock before.
Though, of course, she had seen it done on the Internet!
The fact that I was so large made the task a bit more intimidating.
But, being the little trooper that Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās did her absolute best to give me all the pleasure that I deserved.
The round flushed tip was poking the back of her throat.
I liked ultimately, what Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was doing to me as I leaned my head back and started moaning again, as before when I was pleasuring myself to her Ammī’s picture fucking Al Zubaydah Al Nādir.
Not only that, but I was also becoming fully erect again in her mouth.
That made Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās proud happy knowing that Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was pleasing me in that way.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās noticed my balls sticking out the top of my briefs.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās stopped sucking me and tried to take them both into her mouth.
It made me moan even louder even though one of my balls did slip out of her mouth.
That was when Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās felt herself begin to gag a little, but Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was able to hold it back as she placed her hands on my thighs and tried to keep her head as still as possible so I could thrust myself inside her mouth.
My cock slipped out of her mouth at one point.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās leaned down with her tongue hanging out, licked the shaft all the way to the throbbing purple head, and sucked the very tip back into her mouth.
I moaned out once more when Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās did that, and something told Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wouldn’t last much longer with me doing that to me.
I sensed it too.
Before Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew it, I had reached down, grabbed her arms, and pulled Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās up onto the top of my desk.
I lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties, which were by now so wet they were soaked.
I nearly drove her insane when I fucked her erect Musalmān clitty.
She had never felt pleasure like that before, and Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was determined after that day, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was going to feel it again and again with me, as Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās realized right then and there that I was the only man for Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās reached out, wrapped it in her hand again, and gave it a few light strokes.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was amazed at how it felt both hard and soft at the same time.
I sat down in my chair, making her let go of my cock when I did so.
I noticed her lower lip was quivering just slightly.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was sure Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was excited and never ashamed of what we were doing.
But, to be honest, at that point she really didn’t care.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās knew without a doubt what Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wanted from me next.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās got up from my desk, reached down and pulled her drenched panties all the way off.
Without taking her eyes off me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās threw them off to the side and started to straddle me on my chair.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās removed her hand from around my penis and slid herself down ever so slowly until her bottom was touching my balls.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās lifted her blouse and then her bra to uncover both her breasts that had also never known the touch of a man.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās leaned forward and all but smothered her tits into my face.
I kept my face between her young smart excellent Musalmān tits.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had heard stories from some of the girls at University who claimed to have “done it” how painful it was at first.
But, to her surprise, and her delight, there was hardly any pain when I thrust myself into Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was so turned on at that point, and Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wanted me inside of her so badly that it made Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās feel hardly no pain at all.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wrapped her arms tightly around my broad shoulders and lay her head next to my ear.
I kept fucking Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās harder and faster until I thought Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās would pass out from the pleasure I was giving her.
I knew Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was about to come as her breathing increased against her small heaving chest and Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was practically pounding her virgin Musalmān Cunt into oblivion, my Hindu balls making loud smacking sounds each time they slammed against her beautiful young Musalmān ass.
All of a sudden, I threw my head back as I did when Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās watched me fuck to her picture and let out another long drawn-out wail.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās quickly grabbed the back of the chair and held on as tightly as she could as Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās felt my Hindu come shoot inside her.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās could feel my hot Hindu semen spill out of her.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās laughed to herself.
They were never married.
Durgesh fucked only Panjvaqtah Namāzī Årab Wahābī Musalmān houseladies for infinite Kalps, eons, according to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s her ever–Durgesh– obsessed young Musalmān lady brigade.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās has received her PhD on it.
She has received a telegram even from the Nobel Foundation of Stockholm:
‘IN RECOGNITION OF… IN SUPPORT OF HUMANITARIAN IDEALS… THE NOBEL FOUNDATION OF STOCKHOLM ON BEHALF OF SWEDISH ACADEMY IS PLEASED TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU HAVE TODAY BEEN VOTED THIS YEAR’S NOBEL PRIZE… DETAILS FOLLOW STOP HEARTIEST CONGRATULATIONS STOP…’
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Jihad Al Vaqār glanced about the spacious office once more.
Was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shrewd enough to play all these games?
Was it possible he deliberately gave her his media empire?
His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, allowed him to have it for a trial year.
Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.
In Delhi, Aap had gotten a landslide victory even on BJP.
INC was finished there altogether.
It couldn’t get even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
What did it mean?
The Anti- Hindu forces were winning again?
Was it the beginning of a Counter Revolution?
Against the ever first Psychological Revolution in the entire history of humankind?
It might be.
The Original ever first Psychological Revolution started with the demand of Midterm 2012.
It took two years to build up the required reality and to bring it up to the reality then.
And now the Counter Revolution?
Well, it isn’t so easy.
If they think they can do it so easily, they were living in fools’ paradise.
The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.
They are also there.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.
She was ready to get going.
She had only one trial year.
“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was carrying a handful of folders.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār motioned her friends and lieutenants to the rattan chairs across from her desk.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt comfortable with them.
Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.
They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.
These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.
There was a running information,
“HVSI Times manages its subscription always on the top.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān smiled at her, “I thought we should too adopt the procedure.”
“HVSI Times represents the revolutionaries that successfully ended the Scam era.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “We haven’t enough capital to compete with HVSI, No one has.”
“Sure, but it’s today. When HVSI started HVSI Times they didn’t have this capital.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
HVSI Times was the dream newspaper.
It has survived the biggest threat of news TV channels.
It somehow always maintained to give something new to its readers the news TV channels couldn’t provide.
As soon as Al Jihad Al Vaqār got the media empire in settlement, she visited HVSI Times herself personally.
It was a multi-story building.
None knew how many stories it had.
They said it was an endless building.
No one believed it.
How a building could be endless.
It was certainly a publicity strategy.
It was the tallest building nevertheless.
The heart of the structure, the one that pumped activity into all the other stories was its Seventh floor.
Most of it was given over to the HVSI Times newsroom.
Its one portion was reserved for the publisher’s suite.
It consisted of the publisher’s main office, the office for my personal secretary and receptionist, a conference and electronic media room, two offices for the advertising director and her assistant, and glassed in cubicles for the managing editor and the assistant managing editor.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never changed anything.
He surrendered it to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as he did find it.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, the temporary heir to the suite and to the building had made few personnel changes.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār retired Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s elderly female secretary on a generous pension and replaced her with her own secretary, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, a smart, brisk, thirtyish young woman with short-cropped dark hair and horn rimmed glasses.
Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.
Again, the difference in the intensity of their ambitions was the decisive factor.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ lacked it.
She stopped somewhat before getting resources she was after, while Al Jihad Al Vaqār didn’t deliberately.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār had more patience in the matter.
“Let’s start with the two of you. I’ve been giving it some thought. You will both be answerable only to me. Outside of general orders, everything I tell you will be kept in strictest confidence. Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, this is a bigger job, much bigger than Special Projects. Your work will be greatly expanded, naturally, accordingly.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās straddled me with her beautiful face towards me.
She was enjoying my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her comparatively immensely young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once again.
I knew it would never be a once only phenomenon.
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
The more aged I grew the crazier they were for me.
“I don’t want to burn my bridges, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said fucking my ever stout ever pleasure giving ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund wildly, “And why should I? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has played with my beautiful body, even if in his own peculiar way. I couldn’t help that. My entire body was at his discretion. If instead of fucking me, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed tongue fucking me more it wasn’t my fault. I am not responsible for it. He has to pay for my time I spent with him. It was precious.”
“Sure,” I agreed with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezing her excellent exquisite boobs and buttocks both.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was harder and harder now into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with her each aggressive thrust.
She was kissing me wildly.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund around its shaft.
“I’m really entitled to this alimony if you should warn Al Nādir Al Ghāzī that HVS Law Internationals were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again. It would keep Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from making a move.”
I laughed cunningly.
“Done, however if all the alimony is going to cease in a few months, why not…”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly.
I smiled coldly.
“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”
“Well?” I asked.
“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”
“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.
“Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. Do you think I’m a gold digger?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me gratefully as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely.
“Thank you,” she thanked me once again for letting her fuck me.
“Are you deceiving Priyavrat Chaturvedī for marrying him?”
“Certainly not,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said earnestly, “Priyavrat Chaturvedī knows each and everything of my previous marriages and my recent relationship with you too. I never play dirty with the persons who never play dirty with me.”
“Yet Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to marry you?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
“What do you think? Am I not that much beautiful?”
“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for you.”
“What do you mean?” I smiled cunningly.
“You won’t do anything for me, even if I keep fucking you?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my naughty eyes.
I winked at her.
“If you keep fucking me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, I can do anything for you, myself, if it isn’t immoral and illegal.”
“Even if I’d be married to Priyavrat Chaturvedī?”
“That’s Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s problem, not mine.” I said gravely.*
There was a note on his table.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, had called him.
Everything has changed fast.
Narendr Modi was delivering fast what he had promised to the one hundred twenty five crore Indians.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, was worried as the other Congresspersons were.
INC couldn’t win even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
It was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.
It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”
“You don’t understand Infinite BrāhmKalp, Muħammad Shakīl.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your Kħālāzād cousin, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, is no more interested in me.”
Muħammad Shakīl was startled.
He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*
He never knew why.
Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.
Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.
“You fool; do you want to make me responsible for what my Abbū did?”
“Certainly not, Ammī, certainly not.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī agreed, “Nevertheless, you can’t blame Pitājī too. He loved you very much. Nānājān was trying his best to convert Pitājī to Islam. Pitājī couldn’t infuriate Hindus by converting himself. He would have lost Hindu votes for himself and INC. INC never permitted him.”*
Despite his increasing age, his eyesight was still very good.
It wasn’t any rare thing now however.
They said it was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”
He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,
“Sit down, Priyavrat.”
“As always Ammī has reported you with heavy bias, Pitājī.”
“I doubted that myself. Yet, son, she is right in one thing. You should marry now.”
“What’s wrong in it if it happens?”
“Durgesh is immensely against Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act everywhere. Yet the entire Brāhmañ Brahmkanyā Brahmāñī Creations are passing it one by one. Durgesh can’t oppose Democracy. Therefore it doesn’t make any difference whether Durgesh is against it or not.”
He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.
“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was, I decided now, in the late twenties.
Evidently, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was a young woman that knew her way around.
Yet, there was nothing hard about her.
She seemed as naturally naïve and as spontaneous with her friendship as a young puppy, anxious to make friends with everyone in a joyful world.
Yet, I knew very well that it was her well decided, well thought out, and deliberately preplanned presentation of herself.
Nevertheless, what was wrong in that?
Everyone has a right to present to others in any manner whatsoever s/he damn pleases.
“Where were you, may I ask, on the afternoon of the third, day before yesterday?” I asked casually.
“Allah, good heavens,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās laughed throatily.
“Where were you?” I smiled.
“Allah, are you really serious?”
“Is there anything secret you can’t tell me?”
“Durgesh, I don’t want to lie to you while we are making love and on the other hand I can’t give you the information without permission from my friend I was with.”
“Give me some time to get her permission, please!”
“Okay,” I smiled, “no problem. Let me put it another way. Were you near the intersection of Saåīdah Kħān Br’j Sadānā Avenue and Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive?”
“On the third?”
“On the third.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās shook her beautiful head slowly.
“I don’t think I was. What’s the matter, however?”
“Well, I’ve been reported that you were with some equally beautiful lady as you are in a green colored Mercedes. You had had a flat tire and had pulled into the curb to fix it. There was an accident on the intersection just as you were getting ready to drive away and you noticed something about the car, or about one of the cars that had been in the accident. It was a green Mercedes itself.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was shaking her head vigorously now.
“Durgesh darling, I’m quite certain there’s some mistake somewhat. At the moment I certainly can’t recall or tell you where I was. Nevertheless, I do know very definitely that I haven’t seen any accident within the past few weeks. I can’t disclose my friend’s name without her permission but I assure you I wasn’t riding in any car that had a punctured tire. Naturally. You don’t think I’d forget even that.”
“Sure Sweetheart,” I smiled, “I agree with you,”
“What’s the matter, however, if I may ask?”
“Oh sure, my company, HVS Law Internationals, is representing the occupants of the car that was hit. There was a young man, Ħafïz Iftikħār, a chap twenty two years old who has a broken hip. We hope it will heal up all right so he won’t be crippled. Nevertheless, it’s a serious injury, and it’s certainly going to take some time, even with the best of cure, before he can…”
“Oh, that’s too bad!” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās interrupted me, “I know your client however,”
“Really?” I was surprised.
“Ħafïz Iftikħār has a very beautiful sister, Ħāfizah Iftikħār. You are representing Ħafïz Iftikħār because Ħāfizah Iftikħār is your very intimate friend, isn’t it? As intimate as myself now,”
“You know Ħāfizah Iftikħār?”
“Sure, she even shares her intimate sessions with you with me,”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! You ladies! You share even these intimacies with each other? We men never.”
“We Musalmān houseladies respect and admire you tremendously,”
“Nonsense, you Musalmān houseladies call me Anant Muslimātchod Hindu! Don’t you?” I smiled.
“Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās corrected me, “It’s our admiration for you. You know what we need actually and you give us that.”
“Yes, but not sex alone. Love, intimacy, faithfulness, protection, money, joy, happiness, and what not?Actually you are our real husband, Durgesh darling, not those who are married with us unfortunately,”
“Thank you. I’m really honored tremendously,”
“We feel actually entirely opposite it,” she smiled, “I’ve followed many of your court cases. I think you’re ─well, not only brilliant, magnetic and powerful, especially for us Musalmān houseladies those were suffering from immense injustice of our Pseudo Musalmīn mankind and Pseudo Musalmān society but also willing to stand and fight for the underdog even if he were a Pseudo Musalmān. I admire that enormously.”
“Thank you. That’s certainly gratifying.” I said, “I try to do the best I can when I’m working on a case.”
“Having such a famous personage sharing ultimate intimacy with me in my own apartment is a little too much of a thrill for me. I don’t suppose you understand but I’m as nervous as can be. This is something I can’t forget my entire life.”
“I take it you’re not working at any regular job.” I smiled enjoying her tremendous wild animal thrusts nonstop constantly swallowing my entire sixty five years old utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Prick into her extremely beautiful extremely tight only twenty five plus young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
It was more than obvious she was extremely ravenous and unashamed of it that it was our first time yet she was taking utmost advantage of it.
My lust to fuck her was increasing nonstop itself with her every thrust.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was crazy for me and now I too myself wanted to see how longer more she wanted to fuck me.
I was playing with her plump gorgeous Musalmān buttocks and boobs alternatively.
My penis was growing into her constantly in length and thickness both.
It was perhaps the unique quality of my penis that made women crazy to fuck me again and again, once they had fucked me.
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
That was what they used to say.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās sighed.
“Unfortunately, most of us once married Musalmān houseladies are suffering from the same tragedy.”
“I’m divorced, on allowance. They permit our Pseudo Musalmān mankind to say ‘Talāq, Talāq, Talāq’ three times and we poor Musalmān houseladies are divorced immediately. Even your Dr. Bhīmrāo Ambedkar has written in his famous book, ‘Pakistan, or, the Partition of India’ that a Musalmān woman is the most unfortunate woman of entire womankind.”
“I’m sorry.” I impaled her beautiful eyes with mine, “I didn’t know. Alimony?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās quickly averted her glance, then suddenly turned defiant eyes back to mine,
“Anything wrong with that?”*
I replied furiously,
“Certainly not. I never said that.”
“Does it make any difference in the matter you’re investigating?”
“A nice way of asking me if it’s any of my business?”
“Sorry. Actually, I was just wondering whether you were investigating me and this story about the automobile accident was something to sort of pave the way.”
“Is there anything about you are afraid of investigating?”
“My ex-husband is trying to reduce my alimony.”
“Has he retained you, by the way?”
“To investigate you?”
“No. I’m interested in you because I’m trying to uncover witnesses to that automobile accident.”
“Even now?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked in my eyes meaningfully.
“Hell, never. Now I’m interested in you to keep fucking you more than in anything else.”
“Thanks for honoring my offer.”
“I think you’ve honored me rather. Moreover, the erring Musalmān husband don’t think me appropriate to investigate their wives. My reputation is that mostly I change my clients after meeting beautiful Musalmān houseladies.”
“How lucky we Musalmān houseladies are!”
“I enjoy you beautiful Musalmān houseladies more,” I laughed cunningly, “Never underestimate me. I hate to remain in loss. Ever.”
“So do us beautiful Musalmān houseladies,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās winked at me lewdly.
We both kissed each other passionately keeping my Uncut Hindu Lund entirely vanished into her tight young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“I’m quite certain I wasn’t at the Saåīdah Kħān Br’j Sadānā Avenue, and what was that other street?”
“Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive.”
“I know where Saåīdah Kħān Br’j Sadānā Avenue is, but I don’t even know where Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive is, Durgesh darling,”
“You own a car?”
“Hey, how did you happen to come here in the first place to honor me in this way?”
“Sanmukh hohi jīv mohi jabhīn,
Janmkoŧi agh nāshahin tabhīn.’
“What does it mean?”
“I can’t divulge the source of my information. However, I have reason to believe you might be the person I was looking for. You certainly answer the description.”
“Nevertheless, you can’t tell me how you got my description, who gave it to you?”
“S/he can be my client. It might be a privileged communication between a client and his/her attorney. Even the Supreme Court doesn’t has any right to make me divulge it.”
“I see. However, do you believe in fate, Durgesh darling?”
“Certainly not. I believe in ‘Kurvannévéh karmāñi jijīvishechchhatagvong samāh, évam tvayi nānyathéto’sti n’ karm lipyaté naré.’”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun what the heck are you telling.”
“It’s the second Mantr of Yajurved, Adhyāý 40. It means fate is nothing but only the result of our actions. Since we are free to act in any manner we damn please, we ourselves make our fate knowingly or unknowingly.”
“Allah, are you an atheist?”
“Then why the hell are you talking like one?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezed her already tight vaginal muscles around my entirely embedded Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I controlled myself from screaming out of immense pleasure yet pain too somewhat.
“I’m in need of a lawyer, Durgesh,”
“Really? If I can do anything for you, just tell me and forget everything that’s worrying you.”
“I’ve been married twice. The first time was simply tragic. The last time I was more cautious.”
“Naturally,” I said, “only a foolish woman wouldn’t be more cautious even after suffering from something already. Did it work out all right?”
“Allah Arraħmānirraħīm,” she sighed, “unfortunately, it didn’t. However, I was more cautious second time and I had deliberately married a wealthy man. It was the only thing that helped.”
“Nevertheless, the marriage broke up?”
“Nevertheless, the marriage broke up. I’m getting alimony now.”
“One thousand dollars a week.”
“Well?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās asked defiantly, boldly, “Do you think that’s too much? You should see how much money your terrorist Pseudo Musalmān stepson makes.”
“My terrorist Pseudo Musalmān stepson?”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
I was surprised.
“You were my daughter in law?”
“So what? Do you regret now that I’m fucking you? I know Al Jihad Al Vaqār fucked you right before she was getting married to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
I didn’t approve of it.
Yet it was useless now to discuss it with her.
She had deliberately done it.
To take her revenge from Al Nādir Al Ghāzī?
The husband divorced her yet she is now his Ammī legally, at least morally even if not legally.
Countless of divorced beautiful Musalmān houseladies had already done it.
Most of my Pseudo Musalmīn stepsons refused to limit themselves to only four duly married Musalmān wives.
They were jealous of the Hindus who had only one duly married Musalmān wife yet countless beautiful Musalmān Live in Relationship partnerships.
My Musalmān stepsons divorced their faithful Musalmān wives.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young Musalmān Lady Brigade approached them and advised to join me in Live in Relationship.
It made them Ammī of my erring Pseudo Musalmīn stepsons.
Their slogan was ‘Mecca Fataħ’.
I hid my psychology successfully from Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
There wasn’t even a bit of expression on my face or eyes what my actual reactions to it was.
“I take it you weren’t married very long.” I smiled cunningly ostensibly.
She sighed a long breath of satisfaction.
Now she was cheerful again.
“Five years, and during that time Al Nādir Al Ghāzī made a lot of his money.”
“Nevertheless, the bastard is going into court trying to do something to get reduced my alimony.”
“You can’t blame Al Nādir Al Ghāzī for that.” I winked at Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās teasingly.
It made her furious however.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.
“When a man possesses a woman, Durgesh darling, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, he acquires a very peculiar possession. It is, in a way, an emotional mirror too, a sounding board, an animated echo of his own emotions whether full of love or deceit. Usually he gets back what he gives to his woman unless she is a damnfool and loves even the deceitful bastard even more than herself.”
“I agree with you. I don’t think anyone should love someone more than herself/himself.
It’s harmful even to the one you love.”
“I couldn’t follow you, sorry.”
“You can do anything for the one you love only when you are yourself alive and in a position to do something for her/him. If you yourself aren’t alive, or alive but not capable to do something for him/her, isn’t it harmful to the one you love that much?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās watched me strangely.
“You have queer but more benevolent morals than the normal persons do.”
“Thank you,” I smiled.
“I was telling you when a man possesses a woman; he has acquired a very peculiar possession actually.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās resumed what she was telling me, “It is, in a way, an emotional mirror, a sounding board, an animated echo of his own emotions. He gets back what he gives to her.”
“I understand. My stepson never played fair with you.”
“With me? With me only? He never played fair with any of his wives. The Pseudo Musalmīn never do. They are munāfiqīn. During the honeymoon, a man looks upon his wife as an angel. The wife reciprocates in the same way, naturally. She looks upon him as a god. To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”
“I understand,” I said patiently.
Every person had his/her own philosophy knowingly or unknowingly.
It’s developed unconsciously through his/her knowledge and experiences.
It’s the actual driving force that drives him/her.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was telling me her mental blueprint unknowingly.
It was better for me to listen to her instead of contradicting her.
She went on to tell,
“There is a period of mutual, worshipful admiration. Then the glamour wears off if there wasn’t any real love between them. The man realizes that he hasn’t acquired any angel actually. He has acquired a working partner only. He starts to act as if he still thinks his wife an angel to keep peace in married life. He thinks his wife is a damnfool enough not to understand it. However, she isn’t. She understands her husband’s behavior and starts to play the same game with him. Honesty is responded as honesty and game is responded by game.”
I wanted to say, ‘This is not the way to keep a family.’, but it wouldn’t have done any good in her present mood and position.
She had already been divorced by Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, my stepson that thought he was more brilliant than I was.
I let her continue.
“He gets a working partner.” Her eyes glittered slightly under the half closed lids.
“Then a man sometimes begins to fret. He begins to chafe, irritate, at restraint. He begins to be a little restless, because he has lost his freedom. He refuses to understand that it was his own choice. No one compelled him to marry. It was a matter of common sense for him to understand that he couldn’t remain as free after a partnership as he was before it. That’s the difference in partnership and proprietorship. A marriage is the transformation of the proprietorship of life into a partnership.”
I didn’t disturb Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
She was speaking her mind, and I was better listen to her.
It made me expert in understanding women psychology better.
“He then does either one of the two things.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly, “He begins to cheat a little bit, in a quiet, awkward manner, or he begins to nag. In any event, he shows that his wife has become something less than his most prized possession.”
“And then what?” I asked understanding and digesting her mental blueprint, her philosophy of life.
It was useful for me not only in her Sādhnā, but also in my entire Sādhnā of womankind, ‘Sādhuyā’.
“Then,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said curtly, “He gets paid back in exactly his own coin. If a man is wise, he’ll take as much freedom as he feels that he needs. If a wife is wise, she’ll give her husband as much freedom as he needs to keep him happy. Then the home life will be happy. The husband may lie to his wife, he may cheat a little, but he’ll always value her as a prized possession. However, when a husband regards his wife as a ball and chain, she can slam the door of prison very, very tight, lock the door and throw away the key.”
“That’s what you have done?”
“That’s what Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is adamant to do to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, not me.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī licked my Uncut Hindu Lund passionately after kissing it on its head.
She could not help it.
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī never allowed her even to kiss his penis.
“If you ever do it, I’d divorcé you immediately.”
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī said it so gravely that Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī could never even dare.
That’s why Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī initially approached me.
“I tell you again, Durgesh,” Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī said, “that son of mine is after creating some deep trouble.”
“In Modern Democratic Årabia?”
“In Modern Democratic Årabia, in Pakistan, in PoK, everywhere.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Seven Movements can take care of that appropriately, Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī, don’t worry.” I continued to play with her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān head.
She had golden hair.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was exactly her true copy.
All feminine, noting masculine almost.
He hated even coupling.
Instead, he loved to lick the pussies and female ass even.
Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb left him due to it.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār also left him due to it.
Nevertheless, ultimately, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had found a girl that loved her pussy and her ass licked by her filthy rich Musalmān husband.
Āmnah Azhar was his new wife.
The damnfool had married Āmnah Azhar without confirming his divorcé with Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb even now.
“Āmnah Azhar has the loveliest Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt that I’ve ever licked, ever seen even.” He had said to Al Jihad Al Vaqār proudly, “Moreover, her ass is even more beautiful than Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb.”
“Are you crazy?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār had laughed, “You married Āmnah Azhar only so that you can lick her loveliest Musalmān pussy and loveliest Musalmān ass?”
“Why not? What’s wrong in that?”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās could not understand what the hell she should do after all.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī proved to be useless.
The impotent wanted only to lick her Cunt and her beautiful gorgeous plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
He could not understand a girl needed more from a man.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was on alimony.
But Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was fighting even to get that alimony reduced.
She had been married twice.
The first time was simply tragic.
The second time Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was more cautious.
Even then, it didn’t work all right.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was wealthy.
That was one thing that helped.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had made up her mind she’d never marry again.
Yet then he came along.
He had money and well, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās married him.
Nevertheless, the marriage broke up and she was getting alimony.
One thousand dollars a week.
Sixty thousand INR.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was married to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī five years and during that time Al Nādir Al Ghāzī made a lot of his money.
And now he was going into court trying to do something about her alimony, trying to get it reduced.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās read the advertisement once again.
‘ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS REWARD:
If the parties who were changing a tire on an automobile at the intersection of Saåīdah Kħān Br’j Sadānā Avenue and Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive, at five o’clock on the afternoon of the third, will communicate with the HLMCh Times, and give a description sufficient to identify the green Mercedes that was speeding West on Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive and crashed into the Māruti going south on Saåīdah Kħān Br’j Sadānā Avenue, they will receive one hundred dollars cash. Bystanders think the young woman in this parked car jotted down the license number of the speeding Mercedes but left the scene before the ambulance arrived. Any information from anyone leading to an identification of this hit and run driver will result in the prompt payment of one hundred dollars. Address all communications HLMCh Times, Box 786.’
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled.
She re-read her own response to the advertisement she had herself prepared on her own PC:
The party whose aid you are requesting in your ad in this Morning’s HLMCh Times will never get in touch with you voluntarily.
Nevertheless, I’m interested in fair play.
I think every good citizen must be.
I hate hit and run drivers.
Everyone must I think if s/he is a responsible human being.
I feel it’s my humanitarian duty to provide you following information:
At the time of that accident yesterday afternoon at the intersection of Saåīdah Kħān Br’j Sadānā Avenue and Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās and a man had just finished changing a tire on Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’s Mercedes. Unfortunately, I don’t know the name of the man with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās.
This automobile was parked on the north side of Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive immediately west of the intersection with Saåīdah Kħān Br’j Sadānā Avenue.
Ms. Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās saw the accident and with great presence of mind wrote down the license number of the Mercedes that was speeding away to the west on Jahān Ārā Xatrsāl Drive.
Later on, Ms. Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās told her companion what she had done.
The man become immensely grave immediately.
He explained to Ms. Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās that it would ruin him if it should be known he was with her.
Despite my best efforts, unfortunately I couldn’t succeed in finding the identity of her male companion.
Moreover, I couldn’t succeed in finding the reason he was afraid of having his identity known.
However, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās is a very good friend of mine.
I know that this is a matter that’s bothering her conscience.
Under the circumstances, she cannot give you the information you wish, nor can she ever admit that she was anywhere near the scene of the accident.
Fortunately, she has entrusted me with a key to her apartment.
The address is 786, Bajirao Mastani apartments.
She lives in 786th apartment.
This is a big apartment house with an outer door.
Its latch can be released by tenants of any of the apartments by means of a button.
The key to any of the apartments in the house will fit the outer door.
I enclose a duplicate of my key.
If you use it and go to that apartment sometime between the hours of two o’clock and five o’clock in the afternoon, you won’t find anyone in the apartment.
There is a writing desk in the northeast corner of the sitting room.
If you will look in the upper right hand pigeonhole of that desk, you will find a leather backed notebook.
On the next to the last page of that notebook, you will find the license number of the automobile that you want.
After you have fully satisfied yourself that this is correct and have determined that this automobile is indeed you want, I will make arrangements to get in touch with you, redeem the key and will then expect to be reimbursed in the amount of the one hundred dollars that you’ve offered for a reward.
Very sincerely yours,
I found without difficulty the name ‘Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās’.
I wasn’t stupid enough to visit her as she proposed.
It might have been a trap.
The figure opposite the name was 786 all right.
There was a push button to the right and a speaking tube.
Instead of pushing the button, I tasted the key provided to me.
The advertisement was put in HLMCh Times by Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās had responded to me unknowingly.
I fitted the key to the lock in the outer door and twisted it.
The lock immediately clicked back and the door opened.
I found myself in a lobby.
Several comfortable chairs had been placed invitingly in a warm symmetrical design.
There was a phone booth in a corner and an office.
It was separated by a counter from the rest of the lobby.
Back of this was a door marked ‘Manager’.
On the counter, there was a placard reading,
‘PRESS THIS BUTTON FOR THE MANAGER’.
I walked through the lobby into a corridor flanked with the doors of apartments.
The elevator was lighted.
It was a multi-story building and Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās evidently lived on the seventh.
I pushed the button on the automatic elevator.
When the lighted cage slid to a stop, I opened the door, got in, and pushed the button for the seventh floor.
Apartment 786 was toward the rear of the building.
I followed the doors back until I came to the one I wanted.
I pressed a bell button and waited.
There was no sound from within the apartment.
I tried my knuckles on the door.
Again, there was no response.
Surreptitiously, I inserted the key and twisted with thumb and forefinger.
The latch came smoothly back.
The door opened.
Through the open crack in the door, I could look through a living room into a bedroom lighted by an overhead electric light.
The bed had not been made and a feminine nightgown lay across it where it had been thrown.
I could hear the sound of water running in a bathroom.
I smiled, gently closed the door, removed the key, waited in the corridor for some two minutes, and then pressed the button again.
This time I heard sounds of motion and an ultra-melodious feminine voice on the other side of the door cooed,
“What is it, please?”
“Is this Miss Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās?”
“I want to talk with you. My name is Durgesh.”
The door opened a cautious crack.
I saw laughing, saucy blue eyes, wheat colored hair, and a hand holding a robe tightly at the neck.
Even, white teeth flashed in a smile,
“I’m sorry, Mr. Durgesh, but I’m not presentable. I’m just getting up. You’ll have to…to wait or come back.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll wait,” I smiled.
“I’m afraid I don’t know you, Mr. Durgesh. I…”Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked me over from head to foot, then her eyes widened, “You’re not the Durgesh?”
I kept smiling politely.
“Perhaps you’d better say that I’m a Durgesh.”
She said incredibly,
“Honestly, Mr. Durgesh!”
I kept smiling politely.
There was a moment of silence, and then she said,
“Look, Mr. Durgesh, it will only take me a second or two to get into some clothes. Things are in sort of a mess, but if you’ll just step into the living room, please, and─ you can raise the shades and make yourself comfortable─ I’ll be with you in just a few seconds.”
“Or,” I said, “I can come back, and…”
“No, no, come on in and sit down. It’ll only take me a minute to make myself presentable.”
She held the door open.
I entered the living room.
“If you don’t mind raising the curtains, Mr. Durgesh, and─ well, just sit down and make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” I told her.
She moved swiftly across the sitting room to the bedroom and closed the door.
I walked over to the windows, raised the shades, and let in the morning sunlight.
The apartment represented an incongruous, odd clash of the cheap and the costly.
A small but exquisite Oriental rug made the larger drab rug beside it seem hopelessly shoddy, inferior.
The furniture was for the most part expensive, comfortable and had been selected with taste.
Against the note of quiet luxury a few pieces of cheap furniture, their mediocrity emphasized by the aristocratic articles surrounding them, gave a jarring note.
On the table, an ashtray was still well filled with cigarette stubs.
Some of them had lipstick some did not.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wasn’t as intelligent as to keep herself away from tobacco.
Well, there was a time when I myself smoked.
A small kitchenette disclosed an empty bottle of Scotch on the sink, a couple of glasses, and two empty soda bottles.
A magnificent antique walnut writing desk was over in the corner.
I walked over toward it confidently, inserted my fingers in the ornamental metal handle on the top of the door and pulled.
The desk was firmly locked.
I returned to a chair by the table in the center of the room.
I picked up an old magazine, settled myself, crossed my legs and waited.
I had to wait about five minutes.
Then the young woman came out of the bedroom wearing a housedress that looked simple and domestic, but which had carefully cut for showing various curves and contours.
She was wearing well-shaped shoes with medium high heels.
Her legs were smoothly stockinged and very visible.
“Sorry,” she smiled, “I’m not human in the morning until I’ve had my coffee. If you’ll pardon me, I’ll put a percolator on the stove. I suppose you’ve had breakfast.”
“You make me sound hopelessly lazy,” she laughed, “Nevertheless, how about a cup of coffee with me?”
“Oh, sure. It’s my pleasure to share at least something with such a remarkable beauty. I’m not stupid enough to lose the opportunity.”
“Thanks for the kind response. Actually, it’s my pleasure to have the utmost powerful man visit me.”
I pulled her to myself.
She didn’t resist even a moment and came to my lap immediately.
Her gorgeous, plump, big, heavy Musalmān buttocks filled my lap instantaneously.
My Uncut Hindu Prick saluted her ardent Musalmān beauty.
She kissed me on my lips and squeezed my penis meaningfully between her beautiful Musalmān buttocks.
She forgot her coffee.
She was enjoying better thing now.
It was evident soon; Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās needed me more than I needed her.
She herself was more aggressive.
And why not?
After all, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās wasn’t living with her husband now.
Soon I was nude on my back and Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was nude straddling me.
She had kissed my Uncut Hindu Prick, licked it and then sucked it hungrily.
I’d kissed her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt myself.
I’d kissed her beautiful buttocks even.
She positioned my Uncut Hindu Prick between her quivering pink labial lips and thrust herself.
I filled her entirely immediately.
“Thank you,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās whispered.
“You are most welcome, my dear,”
“I’ve dreamed to have you inside me as soon as I knew you loved to fuck us beautiful Musalmān houseladies.”
“You are flattering me,”
“Allah, no. Never. I mean it. We beautiful Musalmān houseladies ourselves are crazy to fuck you, Durgesh. Believe it or not.”
“I believe you.”
“Thank you. Am I more animal with you than a human being?”
“It’s all right. I love female aggressiveness in sex.”
“I’m more ravenous than usual?”
“So what?” I winked at her lewdly, “That gives me more pleasure. Doesn’t it? It satisfy my male ego more.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me on my lips fiercely, fucking me more vigorously.
“Hey, none of my ladyfriends told me ever you are so wonderful person.”
“You have numerous ladyfriends?”
“Sure,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled teasingly, “and they are very beautiful.”
“Aren’t they jealous of you?”
“You are yourself immensely beautiful.”
“Thank you. Now I know why we ravenous Musalmān houseladies are crazy to fuck you. You flatter your women immensely.”
“I’m sorry to give that impression. I’m not flattering you. I’m telling you the truth.”
She kept fucking me wildly.
“This boy is sixty five years old, Ma’am,”
“It is more a matter of pride for us young Musalmān houseladies.”
“If an immensely inexperienced young boy lusts for us we can understand. He is new to sexual pleasures. Yet, when a man like as utmost experienced as you are has as infinite lust for us as you do have, it satisfies our female ego beyond belief. It is an irrevocable scale how immensely beautiful we are. It’s genuine. Your flattery for us can be managed to act but never the incredible immense lust I’m feeling, experiencing, constantly increasing even with every sensual penetration. ”
“Well,” I smiled cunningly, “I think, young lady, perhaps we are made for each other.”
“Sure?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my eyes.
“What do you say?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled.
“You are incredibly wonderful. I can fuck you proudly until I do exist.”
“Because I have immense lust for you?”
“Despite you fuck immensely beautiful Musalmān houseladies 24x7x365, yes.”
“I’d never allow you to get up from my Uncut Hindu Lund,” I smiled impishly.
“Try to pull your Uncut Hindu Lund ever from my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās herself challenged me.
She laughed too.
“Nice apartment you have here,” I played with her beautiful pink Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
She kept fucking me indebted.
“It’s large,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said, “and I get the morning sun. The building is marvelous, very convenient. I have lots of elbowroom and there is a private garage that goes with the apartment. That’s more than someone would have in a modern apartment.”
“That’s right,” I smiled.
“Enjoying?” she looked into my eyes once again.
“Make yourself too at home,”
“Your Uncut Hindu Lund has already made himself at home,” she smiled cunningly, “Hasn’t he?”
“Oh sure, I’m honored. I’d never anticipated I’d be welcomed here so much.”
“Hey, you deserve it, nonsense!”
“I’m honored by this visit. However I still don’t know why Lillah have you honored me?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
I was a Greek god as if now.
I was not six feet tall, medium height only.
Yet, I wasn’t a nobody.
Not only my women, almost everyone too, kept an eye on me what I wanted actually.
I wasn’t a President or Prime Minister of any nation either.
Yet, I always tried to manage my children get everything they actually needed.
I took one look into Al Kāynāt Al Islam’s beautiful green Musalmān eyes and I gave her whatever she wanted, a new phone, a new computer, a new car, money to go shopping with her friends.
It doesn’t matter.
It’s the curse of a motherless child.
No, her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah, hadn’t died.
She had returned however to her original Musalmān husband, Ålī Abū Tālib.
So many of them did the same.
I especially helped their little girl, Al Kāynāt Al Islam.
It all started one Sunday evening over dinner.
Al Kāynāt Al Islam had been supervising cooking since her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah, left us.
Al Kāynāt Al Islam hated her parents for what they had done.
“You did it for one million dollars only, Ammījān? You leased yourself to Durgesh only for one million dollars?”
Assalāt Muħammad Waħīd laughed.
She watched her Ammī, Najmah Fahīm Ansārī.
“They all do it, Al Kāynāt Al Islam. They are still maintaining the ever old Årab tradition to sell their beautiful Årab women to Hindus.”
Najmah Fahīm Ansārī looked at her daughter, Assalāt Muħammad Waħīd, contemptuously.
“We love Islam more than everything. There’s nothing we can’t sacrifice for Islam. It’s a virtue to get as much money from Kufr as we can, to break their exclusive financial power.”
“Durgesh is multi zillionaire. He is the ever richest man now. One million is nothing for him. You can’t break his financial power through such stupid activities.” Assalāt Muħammad Waħīd said scornfully.*
Al Kāynāt Al Islam supervised everything around the house.
That’s just how we made it.
I was never exhausted.
Nevertheless, it was the usual bullshit at work.
I hated working on the weekends and Sunday was the worst.
I think Al Kāynāt Al Islam could tell because she offered to give me a shoulder massage.
“Durgesh?” Al Kāynāt Al Islam said. “Do you want me to rub your shoulders?”
“I am okay, cupcake.”
“Okay,” she said in her sweet little voice.
She sounded just like her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah.
Al Kāynāt Al Islam looked just like her too.
Gorgeous, long red hair, beautiful c-cup breasts, perky, I tried not to notice, and 5’5″.
She liked to show off her legs.
She was always in shorts and barefoot.
Her toenails were painted orange today.
They matched her fingernails.
The tank top she wore was too small for her, her naval bare.
That’s just how kids dressed these days.
“I have a favor to ask you,” she said.
Here it comes.
It’s always money.
She’s earned it though.
She took care of me, and I like to take care of her.
“Sure, baby. How much cash do you need?”
She shook her head, her hair fanning over her shoulders, her lower lip between her teeth; those lips, her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah’s lips, pink and full.
She looked like her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah,
I never felt guilty ogling her.
I knew I saw her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah, in her.
However, her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah, was also available to me even now.
Despite her ostensible loyalty to her husband, Ålī Abū Tālib, her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah, still wanted me inside her between her still beautiful Musalmān legs.
Ålī Abū Tālib smiled at her wickedly.
“You still want to fuck Durgesh, the ever communal ever stupid Anant Muslimātchod Hindu? He thinks only Musalmān houseladies have perfect cunt for his ever communal Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“Ålī Abū Tālib,” Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah winked at him, “One million isn’t a great amount Durgesh can spare on your still extremely beautiful Musalmān wife.”
Ålī Abū Tālib smiled wickedly himself.
“Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah, you are really marvelous even now. I can’t blame Durgesh. I have seen myself how madly Durgesh fucks you.”
“He is crazy for me.” Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah raised her head proudly, “In fact Durgesh is always crazy to fuck us entire beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān houseladies. We are lucky.”
Ålī Abū Tālib laughed.
“I agree with you. But never forget, you would allow Durgesh to fuck yourself only, not to fuck your Īmān too ever.”
Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah smiled cunningly.
“Don’t worry. We Musalmān houseladies too know our limits. We ourselves fuck Durgesh actually, Durgesh never fucks us. He only thinks that it’s he who fucks us. Islam is paramount. We know. None of us is as stupid as to go to Jahannum letting a Kāfir fuck us. We fuck Durgesh I repeat, never viceversa.”
Al Kāynāt Al Islam was smiling.
“What is it then, if not money?” I said.
“I need you to do something for me, something kind of big. Something more precious. Remember I am not an ordinary girl. Even the Harvard University has recognized my extraordinary prudence by awarding me PhD on Ashvinātam relationships at my eighteen only.”
“That’s right.” I smiled proudly, “I am listening.”
“I want you to watch a few videos.”
“Videos? Sure. I’ll watch a movie with you.”
“No, not a movie. Moreover, the videos are themselves not the favor. I need you to watch the videos so I can ask you the favor.”
Al Kāynāt Al Islam took out her iPhone, pressing a few things on the screen.
“It’s a video of my friend Al Farħānah Al Shoeb.”
I remembered Al Farħānah Al Shoeb, of course.
She practically grew up in my house with Al Kāynāt Al Islam.
She hadn’t been coming around as much lately though.
Usually, she and Al Kāynāt Al Islam were always going out to the mall or some other place.
“In the video, she did something kind of shocking, and, well, just watch, okay? There’s two more videos after it, one with my friend Al Zakāt Al Nadīm, and another with Al Saåādah Al Åbbās. Just keep watching.”
I was confused at this point, but I said,
Al Kāynāt Al Islam handed me the phone.
Meanwhile, she took the plates into the kitchen.
I heard the sink turn on as I pressed play on the phone.
“My name is Al Farħānah Al Shoeb,” Al Farħānah Al Shoeb said on the video, “and this is how you suck Uncut Hindu Lund.”
My eyes were huge as the video zoomed out, revealing Al Farħānah Al Shoeb naked, her eighteen-year-old Musalmān tits on full display, a pair of panties blocking her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, extremely attractive, extremely lovely, ardent Musalmān Choot.
And then she reached for my blue jeans, unzipping them, pulling out my ever young, rock-hard Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was nothing impressive at first, five and a half inches, but Al Farħānah Al Shoeb opened her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, extremely attractive, extremely lovely, ardent Musalmān mouth and swallowed it whole.
“What the hell?”
I glanced over my shoulder, looking for Al Kāynāt Al Islam.
I could still hear the faucet.
I turned back to the video.
Al Farħānah Al Shoeb was giving me her all now, deepthroating my Uncut Hindu Lund, her black hair flying back and forth as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, extremely attractive, extremely lovely, red crimson ardent Musalmān lips slid over my Uncut Hindu rod.
I was moaning, my one hand grabbing Al Farħānah Al Shoeb’s Musalmān head, pulling her to my Hindu shaft.
I could not believe it.
I didn’t know anything of it.
Certainly, they had drugged me for it.
Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā!
What the hell this new generation is doing?
Yet, why was Al Kāynāt Al Islam making me watch her friend suck my Uncut Hindu Lund?
I couldn’t decide immediately what to do.
Should I press stop, go say something?
I just stared at the screen, my Uncut Hindu Lund getting hard in my jeans as Al Farħānah Al Shoeb gagged, pausing to catch her breath.
“You okay, babe?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Al Farħānah Al Shoeb responded.
She grabbed my shaft, stroking it back and forth as she went down for more.
I could not last.
The video was only four minutes, and I was ready to blow.
I exploded in Al Farħānah Al Shoeb’s mouth.
My Hindu cum ran over her chin, dripping on her perky Musalmān tits.
She grinned at me.
“That’s how you suck the ever greatest unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund of Durgesh, the sixty five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu!”
The video ended, only to start a new one in the playlist.
Another of her friends, Al Zakāt Al Nadīm, was next, who I had seen plenty of times in a bikini next to my pool.
She was topless now.
She unzipped a pair of cargo pants and pulled out my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“I am Al Zakāt Al Nadīm, and this is how I suck the unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund of Durgesh, the sixty five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.”
Here we go again!
Al Zakāt Al Nadīm was not as experienced as Al Farħānah Al Shoeb, but when my six-inch prick appeared, she began licking away at it.
She was timid, but I did not seem to mind.
I wanted more, shoving myself into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, extremely attractive, extremely lovely, ardent Musalmān mouth.
This video was only three minutes.
I blew my Hindu load all into her Musalmān mouth.
It wasn’t over yet.
The next video started.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās was up, who I remembered playing on the jungle jim with Al Kāynāt Al Islam.
“I am Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, and I’ll show you how to suck Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“The hell,” I said out loud.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās dove on my Uncut Hindu Lund, her blond locked bobbing on my seven inches.
I couldn’t take anymore.
I turned off the phone and set it aside.
I must have been in the Twilight Zone.
Kids don’t know what that is, but it’s a show where nothing made sense!
I grew up with things making sense.
Now Al Kāynāt Al Islam, the little girl, just showed me a porno, a porno starring her teenager friends with me, doing what I never allowed them consciously.
I felt like grounding her, but I’d never grounded her before.
There was the first time for everything.
I climbed up, stomping into the kitchen.
“Al Kāynāt Al Islam, what the hell is that?”
She turned off the faucet and turned around.
Water was splashed on her little tank top, her skin visible underneath.
“I guess you watched it all.”
“Why did you show me that? I can’t even decide what to say to you.”
“I need to talk to you about it.”
“Talk to me? Youuuuuuuuu?I have half a mind to ground you, you know? I am as if your father. You don’t show me that sort of thing. You may be eighteen, young lady, but you’re still Al Kāynāt Al Islam, and while you live here, you shouldn’t be watching porn movies. Or at least not giving them to me to watch.”
“Durgesh, it wasn’t porn,” she said with a frown.
“What the hell do you call it?”
She left the kitchen.
I had to follow.
She took up a seat on the living room couch.
“Okay, remember when I got my first period?”
I was still standing.
I couldn’t sit.
“What did that have to do with anything?”
“Remember, I was crying, and I told you I was bleeding, and you explained to me that girls get periods, and you took me to the store and bought me pads and told me I’d be okay in a few days. And you said if I ever needed to talk to you about anything, I could. And then when I had my first kiss, I told you all about it too.”
“What’s your point?”
“I am going to tell you some things now, things I’ve been doing.”
“Al Kāynāt Al Islam, I don’t want to hear about your sex life. You’re eighteen. What you do outside this house is your business.”
“But you said I could tell you anything.”
I sat down.
This was getting out of control.
“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to hand me a sex tape one day.”
“Just listen, please. See, my friends made a dare. They were all gloating, say they could suck your Uncut Hindu Lund better than one another, and to prove it, they made videos. And, well, I made the dare too.”
“That’s what this is about? Why would you want to show me that?”
“I am getting to it. See, I’ve been lying to my friends. They all think I was dating a college guy. I told them I was dating someone because, well, because I was sort of scared of sex.”
“I am a virgin.”
I wasn’t surprised.
Yet I asked patiently.
“You’re a virgin? But you’ve been on so many dates.”
“Have you seen me on any dates in the last six months?”
“I just assumed when you were going out that’s where you were going.”
“Well, you assumed wrong. Anyway, I didn’t want them to know I was a virgin, so I just told them I was with a college guy and I had sex all the time.”
“Why did you lie?”
“Durgesh, it’s the last year of their high school. They don’t have the extraordinary prudence I have to get PhD in their teens. Yet they are still my friends. Aren’t they? You can’t tell your friends you’re a virgin. They’ll just make an extraordinary fun of you. These are not the backward days you remember of your own teens. We have advanced now too much. There’s a widest Generation Gap. Try to understand, please!”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“As I was saying, they were all bragging they were good at sucking your Uncut Hindu Lund. So I said I was the best.”
“Eīshān!” I murmured.
“What was I supposed to say, admit I’ve never touched one?”
I rubbed my forehead.
“I am not sure where you’re going with this, Al Kāynāt Al Islam.”
“All the three of my friends have made their tapes. It’s my turn now. It’s Sunday. School is tomorrow. I have until then to make my video.”
“You’re going to make a sex tape? Are you serious?”
“I have to. It’s my turn to do the dare.”
“Al Kāynāt Al Islam, just tell your friends the truth.”
“I can’t. If I did that, I’d be a joke. They’d tell everyone in the whole school, and I’d be the biggest loser ever.”
“Who cares what those kids think? You’re not going to college next year, as they are.”
“Community college. I’m their instructor now. I’m a PhD. A lot of them will be there. I’ll be the virgin loser.”
“So, what are you going to do? Go find some guy tonight you don’t even know and ask him if you can, can…” I couldn’t even say it. “I raised you better than that. It’s one thing if you’re dating someone, but not like this.”
“Well, I was not dating a boy, so I have to find someone else to help me. That’s why I showed you the videos.”
I was not getting it. Looking back, I was surprised I didn’t put it together sooner.
Nevertheless, what ‘father’ would?
Well, I thought I was her father as if.
I had that right at least.
One more Platonic Relationship backfiring?
Have I to fuck every woman that comes into my contact ever?
Am I not infamous enough for it already?
“What are you talking about?” I asked controlling myself ultimately.
She held her breath before she spoke.
“I told you I needed a favor. I was wondering if…if you’d pretend to be my boyfriend on camera, and if you’d let me suck your Uncut Hindu Lund.”
I jumped out of my seat.
I swear I hung in the air for a good ten seconds.
“What the hell? I am your father!”
Al Kāynāt Al Islam’s head was done. “I know. I was so embarrassed even asking. Nevertheless, I don’t have anyone else I can ask. Can I suck your Uncut Hindu Lund, please?”
“I, I, I don’t even know what to say to you. Of course, you can’t! Are you crazy? Eīshān! Al Kāynāt Al Islam, I can’t even believe you’d ask me. This is insane.”
“Durgesh, please,” she said, standing up, putting her hands on my shoulders.
I didn’t even want to be touched by her. “Please,” she repeated. “I need your help. I am just asking you to let me do it this once, just on camera.”
“Al Kāynāt Al Islam, do you realize what you are asking? My thing would be in your mouth.”
“It’s only a blow job, and just until you cum.”
“Don’t use that word,” I said. “I can’t even believe I am having this conversation. I am in the hell Twilight Zone!”
“The what zone? See, I told you, kids don’t know what that meant.
“Al Kāynāt Al Islam, I can’t do that. I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this.”
“I know how it sounds,” she said sadly, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, extremely attractive, extremely lovely, red crimson ardent Musalmān lips pouting. “But if I don’t do it, I am going to be a joke at school. Please, just let me suck your Uncut Hindu Lund for a few minutes, just enough to show them I did it.”
“The answer is absolutely not. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I am so disappointed in you.”
I hate seeing Al Kāynāt Al Islam cry.
I saw it when her Ammi, Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah, left us, and I swore it was going to be the last time.
But when those tears streamed down her face, it felt like she had punched me in the gut.
She ran off, her red hair chading her.
Her door slammed in the distance.
I sank down into the chair, milling over what Al Kāynāt Al Islam had said.
I tell you what though, when your daughter asks you to suck your Uncut Hindu Lund, it gets you thinking, thinking about what it would feel like.
I tried not to imagine it, seeing those pink Musalmān lips of hers wrapped around my Hindu shaft, listening to her gagging throat.
It was making me hard though.
I folded my legs as I sat there, crushing my Uncut Hindu Lund between my thighs, punishing it for getting hard thinking about Al Kāynāt Al Islam, thinking about grabbing that beautiful red hair of hers and pulling her down on my Hindu shaft.
And, Eīshān! She was a virgin.
And she’d never even sucked an Uncut Hindu Lund before.
There’s no doubt an experienced Uncut Hindu Lund sucker is the best, but a newbie Uncut Hindu Lundsucker is unforgettable.
I’d broken-in a few in my high school days.
Al Zohrah Al Zākiyah though, she’d been a slut to me actually. She could suck my Uncut Hindu Lund like a champ.
That’s why she Lived In Relationship with me.
Ålī Abū Tālib never allowed her to do it with him.
Ålī Abū Tālib claimed it was against Islam.
Only some Hindu could allow her with him.
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
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