Her Three Generations
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I went out later, wandering from our city centre hotel down towards the Coliseum, before walking back through the roman Forum.
We stopped often, soaking up the atmosphere, imagining the roar of the crowds hundreds of years before, imagining the Senators meeting, talking, and plotting.
It was an unseasonably warm day.
We found a café and sat outside to eat Pizza, drink coffee and watch the world go by.
We took a horse drawn carriage to the pantheon, and marvelled at the beauty of the paintings and sculptures inside.
We walked around the city, soaking up the atmosphere and history, walking hand in hand, enjoying being together.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās still couldn’t believe she was too my wife now despite the fact that she was only Just Eighteen Just Adult when she first succeeded in having my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-four years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund into her then Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She was jealous of her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, when she deliberately watched her having sex with me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could never understand why her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, revolted against her Nānā Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan and started to live openly with his ever greatest enemy, the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh.
“Kħālājān, I hate Nānī Ammī immensely.” She told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan expressly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“I myself hate her, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās. But we can’t do anything.”
“Now I understand why the Musalmīn turn to be terrorists.” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās said furiously, “The Hindus always manage to have sex with our ever sacred Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān womankind, either this way or that way.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her elder sister’s daughter calculatingly.
She couldn’t be more than thirteen now.
At the most, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could be fourteen only.
He hated wild animal sex basically.
It wasn’t a human act for him ever.
Yet, Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, needed it very much.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, actually never had another option.
Not even any other Hindu male.
Not perhaps even Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Moreover, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was an ardent anti Muslim Hindu, even if Nafīsah Salmān could forget that Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a criminal that was immensely capable to dodge the law and order of every country anywhere.
He was Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar actually.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar never did it.
He never needed to.
As it began to get dark, we returned to the hotel, to the suite we now shared.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband spotted Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s bikini and teased her, asking if she had managed to get a swim that morning.
“Come on,” she retorted, grabbing her bikini, “Let’s go now.”
“I can think of other things to do,” I told her.
She stripped off, standing naked before me.
Her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body was firm and beautiful.
However, with a laugh, she wriggled away from me and pulled her bikini on quickly.
She reached into a draw and threw me my trunks.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got changed quickly.
We both pulled on the robes the hotel provided before heading out towards the lifts.
Minutes later Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I were at the indoor pool.
Dropping her gown on a sun bed, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stepped towards the water and dived in gracefully.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband followed her more sedately, and began to swim a few lengths, always looking out for Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
She swam well, passing me a few times as her years of practice began to show.
After swimming a couple of dozen lengths, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband stopped at the shallow end and rested, my back against the edge of the pool.
We were alone now, the last of the other swimmers having just left.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stopped next to me, both of us were glancing across at where we had met the night before.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband moved to stand in front of her.
Reaching out, I stepped closer.
My hands were on her hips.
We kissed softly.
Our Ashvinātam bodies were very close.
Despite the fact that I was sixty-five years old now, I never appeared my age.
Everyone thought I was anywhere between twenty-eight and thirty-five only.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was nineteen now.
We were fucking each other now for a complete year already.
As we parted, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās smiled.
“It looks different in daylight,” she murmured, thinking of the night before.
“I try not to think about,” The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband told her.
“Why not,” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Because this happens,” I told, taking her hand and pressing it against the hard Hindu bulge in my trunks.
“Swim then,” she laughed, dodging past me and swimming away, teasing me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband swam after her, but she had disappeared over to the other side of the pool.
I went after her, missing her time and again.
Each time the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got closer, I reached out to her, touching her, and then she was gone.
She touched my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in passing, teasing me, but always evading me.
Eventually I caught her, laughing, in the corner.
I pulled Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās to me, kissing her hard, feeling her firm extremely beautiful female Musalmān young body against me, her erect nipples pressing into my chest, my hard ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund against her.
She pressed herself against me, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sliding up and down the ridge of my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through my swimming trunks.
She wriggled free, and dropped below the surface of the water.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands tugged at my trunks, pulling my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund free.
It sprang up, released from its restraints, unaffected by the cold water.
Her beautiful quivering red crimson ardent Musalmān lips were forming a seal around me. Her tongue lapped at my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head, buried in her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
She took my balls in one hand, her other hand on my buttocks, holding me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband groaned as this seemed to last for ages, but in reality it was only seconds before she shot to the surface, gasping for breath.
With barely a glance around, we moved to the shallow part of the pool, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund jutting out in front of me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband lifted her onto the edge of the pool, my lips locking onto hers as we held each other tight.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās grabbed my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund, peeling the skin back down my shaft, pulling my swollen ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head towards her.
Dragging her bikini bottoms to one side, she exposed her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to me.
I caught a quick glimpse of her wet, wanton lips and then I was inside her.
I pushed forward as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wrapped her beautiful nude Musalmān legs around me, pulling tight as I drove my thick Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund deep inside Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s young Musalmān body.
As we fucked, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband tugged at the strings of her bikini top, pulling it away from her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, freeing her full exquisite young Musalmān breasts.
Her nipples were like pebbles pressing into my chest as we kissed, as we fucked.
Her beautiful nude Musalmān legs tightened around me, pulling me deeper and deeper inside her as I fucked her faster and faster.
She leant back; her arms behind her, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts thrust upwards, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot pushed forward towards me.
It lasted we never knew for how long.
I always fucked her as if I was a wild animal that had gone mad.
She had always to acknowledge her defeat.
She never found her Kħālājān, now thirty-three years old, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, ever winning over me.
The ever wonderful man was defeating her three generations, including herself.
His sexual lust to fuck beautiful Musalmān houseladies of any age whatsoever was incredible.
Durgesh could just fuck them endlessly with ever increasing manly vigor even.
Ultimately, we were cumming, crying out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot moulded itself tighter around my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
The waves of pleasure crashed through her, as spurts of my warm, thick Hindu cum filled her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
We clung together, gasping to breathe, then laughing at our release, then controlling ourselves as we remembered where we were.
We dressed ultimately.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband was pulling my trunks up while Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās re-tied her top and straightened her bottoms.
We swam back to the far end of the pool, before climbing out and grabbing some towels from the pile left by the hotel.
Pulling our robes back on, we headed back to our room, eager to be alone again.*
It was late evening when we left the hotel.
We were heading towards the hard Rock Café, a venue we always enjoyed.
Fortunately, we were seated within half an hour of arriving, and were soon pondering the menu while she was sipping on ice-cold beers and I a juice.
“Hi, I’m Al Rābiyah Al Faisal. I’m your waitress for the evening.”
We both looked up from the menus and said “Hello” to our server.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was tall and slender, in her mid twenties.
Her accented English was almost perfect.
Her dark hair was tied back, her white blouse clinging to her pert Musalmān body, her green skirt short and tight around her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband cried out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kicked me on the shins, an amused grin on her face as she watched me watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was back shortly to take our orders.
She stood next to me, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder as we smiled.
When we had ordered, she ran her hand lightly down my arm and thanked us, before sashaying away.
Her hips were swinging.
Her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass was rocking from side to side in her tight skirt.
Throughout the evening, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was friendly and attentive, always touching my arm and running her hand down it when we were finished chatting.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās took all of this in with amusement, and not with even a little jealousy.
However, moments later it was I teasing her as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal brought Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s dessert.
She rested her hand on Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s arm as she put the ice cream in front of her, then ran her hand down her arm and squeezed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand gently.
“Enjoy!” she told her.
“In which case,” I told Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walked away, “She must fancy you as well.”
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wasn’t listening – she was far too busy watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walking away, her eyes locked on her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, her tongue flicking over her suddenly dry lips.
I took all of this in, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was hardening as I watched my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady, my lover, looking at the waitress.
Suddenly I remembered the way Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās had looked at other girls before, some of the comments she had made, especially about the beautiful dancer we had seen at the moulin Rouge when we were in Paris – and I began to wonder…
When we were finished, I paid the bill and left the beautiful Al Rābiyah Al Faisal an extravagant tip.
She thanked me, leaning over to kiss me on my lips naughtily, before hugging Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
I watched them.
As we left, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal squeezed our arms one last time, then told us that she had enjoyed meeting us, and that she finished at eleven if we fancied a drink.
Then, with a delicious, inviting smile, she was gone.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I stared at each other, not quite sure what to make of what Al Rābiyah Al Faisal had said.
Nevertheless, both our bodies reacted to those words, to her look.
We didn’t mention Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as we walked through Rome, heading for the Tivoli fountain, wanting to see it lit up at night.
We stood by the fountains, enjoying the sound of the water, the sight of the beautiful statues and carvings.
I gave Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās a coin and told her to throw it over her shoulder into the fountain and make a wish.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās did, closing her eyes and making her wish as I watched her.
“Well,” I asked, “What did you wish for?”
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās hesitated for a moment then told me, her voice husky and her eyes bright.
“I wished we could …… make it back to the café before eleven.”
I stared at her, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund growing hard as I took in her words, the expression on her face.
I glanced at my watch, then grabbed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand and led her back the way we had come.*
We made it just in time, but then felt uncertain as we watched Al Rābiyah Al Faisal appear from the restaurant with some other waitresses.
We stood watching her, hesitating, not sure what to do when Al Rābiyah Al Faisal turned and saw us.
Her face lit up with that delicious smile again.
she quickly said goodbye to the others before walking to meet Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and me.
We both watched her walking those dozen yards.
Her long coat was undone, falling open as she walked.
She was wearing the same clothes as before, but this time our eyes were on her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, taut against her blouse, her nipples dark and promising, and on her long legs.
She appeared from beneath her coat with each step, her skirt rising high up on her stocking clad thighs.
“You made it,” she greeted us, stepping between us, turning and looping her arms through ours.
“Where shall we go,” she continued, hardly drawing breath, “Lots of places are closing now … How about your hotel? Does it have a bar? Is it far?”
I smiled and said that it wasn’t far, and then led the way.
We chatted as we walked, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s cheery banter easing any uncertainty Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I might have had, although neither of us thought about where this might lead.
It only took us fifteen minutes or so to get back to the hotel, but as soon as we walked into reception, we were hit by the noise of a huge party going on.
The bar was packed, as were the lounges around reception.
I looked around for somewhere quieter.
“How about our room?” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās asked, her voice trembling slightly, “It’s big enough …. Is that okay with you Al Rābiyah Al Faisal?”
“That’s great …. Let’s use room service to get a drink; it’ll be quicker than hanging around here.”
Almost in a daze, still unsure of what was happening; Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās led the way to the lift.
Minutes later, we were back in our suite, and I was on the phone to room service ordering a bottle of champagne.
I dropped the phone back on its rest and turned back to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal to tell them that the champagne was on its way.
Nevertheless, I was suddenly too cautious to speak as I took in the sight before me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal stood close together.
Their exquisite young Musalmān breasts were touching, their hips pushing forward against each other, their mouths locked together.
They parted as they sensed I was looking at them.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās came to me and kissed me softly.
I could taste Al Rābiyah Al Faisal on her as our tongues slipped over each other.
Then Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was next to me, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing against my arm, firm and warm.
As soon as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lips left my, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was kissing me, her agile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue flicking along my Hindu male lips before slipping deep into my Hindu mouth.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal led the way to the sofa in the sitting room part of the suite.
We all sank down, I in the middle, as we took turns to kiss, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I.
Our hands found each other easily, touching, caressing.
We stopped only when we heard tapping on the door, and a call of “room service”.
I let the waiter into the room, noticing the looks both Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās gave me.
He put the champagne on the side, and left as soon as I had tipped him.
I poured their drinks, handing glasses to Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās before rejoining them.
They sipped their champagne.
We chatted, totally at ease, happy for the growing sexual tension to grow even more, for our need and desire to grow.
After what seemed like an age, I leant over Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and put my glass of juice down. I took hers from her and placed it next to mine before taking her in my arms.
I kissed her softly, my hands caressing her pert exquisite young Musalmān breasts through her blouse.
Slowly, I undid each of the buttons down the front of her blouse, conscious of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moving to kneel in front of us so that she could help.
As soon as the buttons were undone, I eased Al Rābiyah Al Faisal onto her back on the sofa.
I pulled her blouse open, gasping as I stared down at her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, at her dark nipples barely hidden by the lace of her cream bra.
I touched her lightly, my hands moving up her sides, then across to her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, to her hard nipples.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was still kneeling on the floor beside us.
Reaching down between my hands, between Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, she gently undid the clasp at the front of the cream bra.
I slid my hands across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, into the deep Musalmān valley between them, before slipping my Hindu hands under the edge of each cup, and then slowly back across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, exposing them to our gaze.
I felt the firmness of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts under my hands, of her hard, puckered nipples.
As my hands reached her sides, leaving her exquisite young Musalmān breasts totally exposed, both Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I gasped as we took in their beauty.
I dipped my hand, taking Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s nipple in between my thumb and forefinger.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās leant over her, and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal moaned loudly as both her nipples were teased.
I ran my hand over her flat tummy, over her skirt.
I rubbed down the front of her panties, feeling her wetness, feeling her juices rushing from her.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moved away from her breast, and the two girls kissed – soft, passionate kisses that set them all moaning.
As my hand reached inside Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s panties, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood up.
She moved away a little, so that Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I could see her.
We watched as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās danced slowly, sensually, undoing the buttons down the front of her dress, before pushing the dress off her shoulders.
It fell to the ground as she ran her hands over her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, pinching her own nipples.
Now Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood before them, naked apart from her thong.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands ran lower, until one was on her tummy, and one inside her underwear.
She turned around, and bent over to slip her thong off, pointing her firm Musalmān ass at us.
Her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was peeking out between her beautiful nude Musalmān legs.
She turned back towards us, and held out her hands.
“Let’s go to bed,” was all she said.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached her hands up to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, and stood up.
The girls fell naturally into each other’s arms, their naked exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing together.
We kissed again.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was painfully hard.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal ran her hands down Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s back, down to her firm Musalmān ass.
I moved behind her, pushing her dark hair to one side so that I could kiss her neck.
I pulled her blouse and bra down her arms, leaving her topless.
As the girls carried on kissing, moaning softly as our tongues explored, I dropped to my knees, scattering kisses down Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s slender back.
I unzipped her skirt, easing it down off her hips.
All she wore under it was a cream thong and her black hold up stockings.
Her rounded Musalmān buttocks were firm, creamy white against the rest of her.
I kissed each side of her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass gently, before easing her thong down.
I eased her stockings down as well, one at a time, leaving her naked.
Her moaning got louder as I ran my Uncut Hindu Lund between her pert Musalmān cheeks.
She pushed her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass out, exposing more of herself to me.
I teased her tight little hole with the tip of my Uncut Hindu Lund, holding her hips and pulling her to me.
I stood up and led these two naked, gorgeous Musalmān women to the bed.
The contrast between them was amazing.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was more slender, darker.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was more rounded, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts and hips fuller but still wonderfully firm, both of them incredibly sexy.
Once by the bed, they both turned to me.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal kissed me.
Our kiss was soft and gentle to start with, growing quickly in passion as our tongues came into play.
We stopped kissing briefly as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās pulled my shirt over my head.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal immediately leant down, kissing and biting me.
Her hand reached for my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through the thin material of my trousers, squeezing it.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal dropped to her knees in front of me, still looking up at me.
I sensed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kneeling down behind me.
Their hands pulled my trousers, dragging them and my underwear over my hips, down my thighs and off.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund sprung up, standing out rigid, pre cum dripping from the tip.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as it pointed at her, her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth automatically slipping over the tip, greedily sucking my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head into her hungry extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm brought my Uncut Hindu Penis out,
“Any objection?” she asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Certainly not, go ahead. Durgesh is unique in sex. His Uncut Hindu Prick is amazing. It extends in length from six inches to just its double. Incredible. Isn’t it?”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled playing with my Uncut Hindu Prick, entirely unashamed of herself.
“Sure, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“Further, his sexual lust for us Musalmān Beauties, us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, is still more amazing. The more Durgesh fucks us Musalmān Beauties, us Musalmān houseladies, the more his sexual lust for us increases. It never diminishes.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at me in greatest appreciation.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Durgesh has infinite sexual lust actually for us Musalmān Beauties, for us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. It makes Durgesh unique. That’s why we have passed a resolution in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat that Durgesh is a Public Property, at least his legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick is. No one single woman has exclusive sexual rights on Durgesh.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“You must be joking. A resolution? Nonsense.”
“On the contrary,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely, “I’m absolutely serious. I never talk loose about my husband.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was stunned.
She looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan dumbfounded incredulously.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm went down on her knees.
She kissed my Uncut Hindu Prick, licked it, then started to suck it swallowing it into her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
There are some women who don’t lose their beauty even when they grow old.
Instead, they are more and more beautiful when they grow old, with their more increased experiences and resultant sophistication.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was one of them.
She was enjoying now my hardness into her mouth, proudly.
It was the unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis every Musalmān Beauty, every extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houselady, was crazy for.
She was still able to have it while even the Jet Musalmān Beauties were crazy for it.
“Where’s your son?” I asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim.” I said.
“He had to see a man. He promised he’d be back in five minutes.”
Her eyes were smiling at me cunningly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was suddenly all alert.
Allah, has Durgesh successfully helped Muħammad bin Qāsim too to disappear?
She had promised Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to watch on Muħammad bin Qāsim.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could concentrate on Al Muħammad Al Qāsim only.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is claiming she still has Al Muħammad Al Qāsim under surveillance.
But Muħammad bin Qāsim?
Has Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan lost him?
In her over confidence?
“How long have you seen Muħammad bin Qāsim, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked gravely.
“Five minutes ago, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said innocently, “Our party broke when my son received a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said that he had to see a man on some business.”
“I see.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “And what did you do?”
There wasn’t any panic in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s voice whatsoever.
She understood very well, panic in her voice would never help her.
On the contrary, it could spoil her image instead.
Durgesh never cared for any of his woman to the extent to disgrace her Musalmān mankind.
Yes, she and her ever cunning Musalmān girlfriends had always successfully managed to use Durgesh for punishing their ever malevolent Musalmān mankind.
But that was the ultimate limit of Durgesh in helping them.
Even Durgesh’s ever increasing ever infinite sexual lust for Musalmān Beauties and extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, could not compel Durgesh ever to cuckold their ever treacherous Musalmān mankind.
He hated cuckolding anyone.
“They deserve it, Durgesh.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had always argued with him, “Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors claim we can’t destroy Muslim Terrorism successfully until and unless we don’t humiliate terrorists Musalmīn. We can’t make them to see our humane viewpoint even without it.”
“And you think Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right?” I asked mocking at her almost every time she said it to me.
“I know Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan almost every time blazed at me.
She asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm again.
“I asked you what did you do.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled triumphantly.
“Came to my stateroom. I slipped my gown off, because I’d spilled some wine on it. Muħammad bin Qāsim will be back any minute. What’s all the commotion about? The ship’s jumping around. I can hardly stand up, consequently. We haven’t run into anything. Have we? Look, there’s a light over there on the water! Moreover, look at the searchlights!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded gravely.
She watched Al Nāsirah Al Karīm while Al Nāsirah Al Karīm sucked my Uncut Hindu Penis skillfully, smartly.
Allah, was the old sophisticated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm winning over great Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
She couldn’t believe it.
Durgesh is supporting Al Nāsirah Al Karīm against Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Hell, no, never!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cooed despite her immense wrath internally.
“I’m particularly interested in finding out about where Muħammad bin Qāsim went and what he did.”
“I heard the sound of a shot. An officer of our ship tells me there’s a man overboard. Does that mean anything to you?”
For a moment Al Nāsirah Al Karīm stared at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with triumphant eyes, then she stopped sucking me.
She undressed herself and me too.
Then she again went to her knees.
“Durgesh, fuck me from my behind, please. Let’s go to my stateroom.”*
I enjoyed fucking Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Nafīsah Salmān, etcetera more because they were in my own age group.
I immediately penetrated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm from her exquisite glorious behind.
Her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks filled my nude Hindu male lap competently as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely.
She smiled at me proudly.
I winked at her fucking her passionately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has now disappeared. They think he has been murdered by Al Zohrah Al Bittol. You are a widow now legally. You can enjoy sex with Durgesh now more freely.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“I was never afraid of my legal Musalmān husband, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. If he didn’t like my extramarital affair with Durgesh, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was always free to divorce me.”
“Legally.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan supplemented.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“You mean not practically?”
“Well, it’s never easy for a billionaire to divorce his Trillionaire Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.”
“That’s not my problem.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm herself started rocking her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bottom on my Uncut Hindu Prick back forth and back.
She was enjoying my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt very much.
Well, who didn’t actually?
Were women more animal than males in this matter?
My experiences with womankind answered my question in the affirmative.
But even then I wasn’t sure of my conclusion.
After all I wasn’t omniscient.
There was always a possibility of mistake.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm crossed to the drawer of a dresser.
She jerked it open.
Then she stood looking down at the empty drawer.
Her ravenous back forth and back movements of her bottom on my rock hard Uncut Hindu Penis had stopped now, swallowing entire my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“What is it?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely.
She was a brave, matured and vastly experienced woman.
It wasn’t easy for her to be startled on every this and that matter.
“My gun,” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “it’s gone.”
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan questioningly.
“I haven’t done anything, my dear Hindu husband of us entire Musalmān Beauties.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan told me innocently widening her extremely beautiful young Musalmān eyes.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I said gravely, “if I found you are responsible for anything of it, even your closest friend, Jacqueline Lincoln, would forget you made her President of USA.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I never knew even you are jealous of my ever closest friendship with Jacqueline Lincoln.”
“Ever close friendship?” I grimaced, “Jacqueline Lincoln is your Karñ, Duryodhan.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was shocked.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan isn’t anybody’s friend, damn it.” I said curtly, “she helped Jacqueline Lincoln to be President of USA so that Jacqueline Lincoln could help her in establishing her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”*
Jacqueline Lincoln never thought she too would be on my ship.
She thought it was not respectful for USA.
Well, even if the rest of the world doesn’t realize now, Ved Nagar has actually replaced USA in leading the entire humanity.
“Mom, I don’t know why the hell had you promised Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle to attend the seminar with me in person.”
Dolly Carter smiled graciously.
“Jacqueline Lincoln, Imām Muħammad Ħasan Bhāījān is my milk shared brother. He has done even more for me than even my own real brothers did.”
“I know.” Jacqueline Lincoln said curtly, “Most of my maternal uncles had left us when we needed them utmost. It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle only that helped us then in our survival.”
Dolly Carter’s eyes lit up with immense pride for her daughter.
“You remember it?”
“Of course I remember it.” Jacqueline Lincoln said, “How can I forget, Mom? It was the period that brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me together. Wasn’t it?”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to say something but I raised my right hand to stop her.
I addressed Al Nāsirah Al Karīm instead.
“You and your son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, were going to have a show down about your brother, Muħammad Ůsmān?”
“That’s what I told you already.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said to me, eyeing Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat suspiciously.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling cunningly realizing and enjoying it very much that the situation was still under her control.
“Did you tell Muħammad bin Qāsim what you wanted to talk him about?” I continued.
“I told my son that I wasn’t going to stand for a lot of vague generalities any longer; that I wanted to know exactly whom else he suspected to poison him if not Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and/or Muħammad Ůsmān. After all poison couldn’t have administered itself to Muħammad bin Qāsim.”
“What did Muħammad bin Qāsim say?”
“He said we’d talk it over later.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm had again started fucking me herself.
“He wouldn’t discuss it then?”
“He deliberately avoided it. Just as we were finishing dinner, a bell robot handed Muħammad bin Qāsim a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he had to see a man on some business. That broke up our little company of mother and son. Muħammad bin Qāsim and I came to my stateroom. I told him I was going to have things out with him, that for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah’s sake I wanted his partnership with my brother Muħammad Ůsmān must dissolve now. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back within five minutes. He simply had to see someone on a matter of the greatest importance for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and himself.”
“There was your gun in that drawer?”
“Of course. That’s why I brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and you here, to confirm whether it’s still there.”
“When did you see it last?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked quite disapprovingly it all.
“This afternoon.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm turned to face Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“It was your gun?”
“How long have you have it?”
“About two months. It was a new gun I liked very much. I immediately purchased it as soon as I saw it.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“I happen to know that your son has been in touch with Åāyeshah Dåūd, the Doctor. I think Muħammad bin Qāsim has tried to reach some agreement with Åāyeshah Dåūd. I don’t know what she told him. It’s a fine situation for blackmail even while Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd is too respected to go down that much. Do you suppose, madam Trillionaire, your heavily spoiled son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, could have gone to meet Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd taking your gun with him?”
“I don’t know.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said curtly watching Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan contemptuously.
Her still strong vaginal muscles clutched my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“Durgesh darling, I want you to promise me that you’ll stand by me, not with your Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, in this matter. Please, someone already trying to frame Al Taufīq Al Fatimah for poisoning my son.”
I smiled at her.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is sympathetic with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus. However, even then, she isn’t actually your enemy.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan uncertainly.
“Let me ask you some more questions before Muħammad bin Qāsim gets here. Just how much have you told him?”*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, pushed her magnificent nude Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my equally nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick once again entirely into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt and said gravely.
“I told him that Muħammad Ůsmān is of course my younger brother, but he was never a responsible person. My Abbū was fed up of Muħammad Ůsmān’s grossly irresponsible behavior. He never took any interest in our business. Even then he was always after money. I had to help Abbū in his business because Muħammad Ůsmān never understood his duties. Abbū naturally was not good at Muħammad Ůsmān. He willed me his sole beneficiary of his billions.”
“And you proved to be the worthy of his decision.” I said appreciating her, “you made his billions the trillions successfully.”
“Thank you.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was fucking me again passionately, yet gratefully now, “You know I couldn’t do it without your moral support even.”
“I always try to support the worthy ones. It was your own courage, fight and prudence that helped you more. I only helped you where your opponents wanted to swallow you illegally.”
“And you think it isn’t valuable? They could have really swallowed me if they were really not afraid of your ever insurmountable opposition. I owe not only my success, but even my existence to you, Durgesh, my life.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed bitterly.
“He is utmost prudent enough to help only extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress. His ever lustful Uncut Hindu Penis never let him resist against it.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“Well, he deserves the remuneration. Doesn’t he? If he is protecting us extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress as even our Musalmān husbands don’t or can’t, why the hell Durgesh shouldn’t get even what our incompetent Musalmān husbands do?”
“What else you told Muħammad bin Qāsim?” I asked patiently.
Neither of them was understanding the gravity of the situation optimum.
They were wasting very valuable time in teasing each other.
Most of the women do it unconsciously.
Yet I never expected it from as exquisitely prudent women as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Nāsirah Al Karīm were.
“That’s all.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “That’s all I had time to tell him.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was still thinking of success of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus in taking care of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
She prayed Allah that she must also prove she took care of Muħammad bin Qāsim if not more efficiently, at least equally.
“Was that after he received this note, or before?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Afterwards. We, Ammī and son, had left the others and entered my stateroom. I talked to Muħammad bin Qāsim for just a minute or two. Then I stepped into the closet to get out another dress. I heard Muħammad bin Qāsim slam the door when I was getting out another dress.”
“Muħammad bin Qāsim told you he had to see a man?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Yes. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back in five minutes and have it out with me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said patiently,
“I think we’d better go on deck and find out what’s happened. You are certain, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Muħammad bin Qāsim took the gun?”
“Yes. I heard him slam the drawer of the dresser. I didn’t realize what it meant at the time. If… if somebody’s overboard, can they find him─ her?”
“It’s a pretty slim gamble.” I observed, “There’s a heavy sea running. They might swing the ship broadside to the wind and launch boats in the lee, but I don’t think they’ll do it until they have something definite to go on. They’ll play searchlights on the water, throw flares overboard, and keep a sharp lookout. They certainly won’t risk men’s lives in an open boat unless there’s some indication the person’s still alive. Moreover, don’t forget that a shot was fired.”
“Do you suppose it could be Muħammad Ůsmān?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked, “Allah, oh heavens! Muħammad bin Qāsim wouldn’t have done that!”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The dawn was cold and chilly.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t need any coat around her.
My nonstop back and forth penetrations into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt were providing her enough heat she needed to face the cold and chill.
The automobile slid to a stop.
“What’s first on the program?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus surveyed the apartment house standing on the silent residential street, as though waiting for the warm morning sunlight to bring it to life.
“Like a sleeping horse standing on three legs with his head down.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you can’t believe the neighborhood is jammed with people.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched her sarcastically.
“Another hour you’ll see curtains going up, smell the aroma of coffee, see the people dashing down the steps running for the streetcars.”
“I wish I were certain we had an hour.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Well, there’s only one thing to do. Find out first where Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s apartment is and next where her garage is.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“That garage business may be tricky, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He suggested protesting what she had implied, “some early riser may be looking out of a window and…”
“I know.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It’s not a good idea to take chances that way.”
“I see.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “What do you suggest instead?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs thought for a second then he admitted reluctantly somewhat.
“I’m darned if I know. But if we contact the police…”
“And if the police asked the proof?”
“We are trying to get proof so that we can provide the same to the police if they asked for it.”
“There is no other option.”
“Why not wait?”
“Water,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said dryly, “has the habit of evaporating. I want to take a look at that automobile before the cushions have had a chance to dry out.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs surrendered ultimately, “If you feel that way about it, let’s go. Every minute makes things that much more dangerous.”
We left the automobile, walked up to the apartment house.
By consulting the directory Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found that Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd had apartment 786.
As we turned back to the car, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said,
“Now, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you take the car, and drive up the driveway. We’ll pretend that we are looking for a stall to put the car in. If there’s any trouble, we can claim that some friend told us we could use her garage for a couple of days because she was going to be away.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said sarcastically,
“Sure. And then if they ask us about the friend and where she lives, it will be just another one of those things.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him scornfully,
“We’ll just have to talk fast and try to talk our way out of it. If you don’t want to cooperate…”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs went back to the automobile, started it, backed into a half turn, then drove slowly up the driveway.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and I walked ahead of Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was my nude glorious mare now on her knees and I was fucking her from her gorgeous behind.
The driveway went around to the back of the apartment house, where there was a large cemented yard flanked with garages.
“Begins to look better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Look the garage doors even have the numbers of the apartments on them.”
“And padlocks.” I smiled.
“We’ll leave that to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. What a husband is good for if he can’t pick a lock for his wife, once in a while.”
“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” I asked innocently.
“It is.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus admitted, “I believe it’s a felony. Even I wouldn’t do it for a million dollars if there were any other way.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs brought the car to a stop, climbed out, and looked at the padlock.
“I don’t like it, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He said bitterly.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus pushed her exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, contracted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock, and looked at her husband, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, contemptuously,
“You don’t think I care any more what the hell you like and what you don’t. Do you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs too looked at his wife venomously,
“I am more prudent now than I was when I married you.”
“That’s better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said bitterly, “Got those skeleton keys handy?”
“Oh sure,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said, “I am not a damnfool that I give you one more chance to destroy me. It’s your funeral now, not mine. I don’t love you any more. Go ahead if you really think you can outwit Durgesh even.”
“Got those skelton keys?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus asked him coldly.
“Yes, they are in the car.”
“Get them for me.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him emotionlessly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs pointed out smirking.
“The windows of those back apartments look out here in the court and…”
“My damn fool husband,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sneeringly, “the longer you talk, the more chance there is someone will hear the discussion and look out to see what it’s all about. This is no time to get weak kneed. You know now very well you were never my destination when I married you. You were my stepladder only.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t stunned even for a moment.
He laughed bitterly.
“I wasn’t in love you myself, bitch. I wanted to fuck you only. And I have done it now to my heart’s content. I damn care now if you fuck Durgesh or a black thief even.”
“That’s all right. It was a bargain then. You were after my body and I was after your money. We both got what we wanted to have. Now, why the hell are you trying to protect me still now as if you are still my husband? You are not. You were never my husband, moreover. You were only my stepladder and I’ve reached my destination now. Durgesh is my destination, you stupid. Why the hell don’t you understand?”
“I don’t understand?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed sarcastically, “I don’t understand? I suspected you bitch, right from the beginning that you were after my money, not after me.”
“I don’t have all the time in the world now.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said contemptuously, “You love a female animal body only as any male animal does. Durgesh doesn’t. Durgesh loves Beauties with brains. That’s why Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan successfully defeated her Ammī Nafīsah Salmān in Durgesh’s sex life. I have to show Durgesh that I too have brains, not beauty only, if I want to gain some respect from him in our sex life. I have to go ahead as though I own the joint and we are just putting the car in for the night. Get me those keys.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs walked back to the glove compartment of his automobile, reluctantly took out the bunch of skeleton keys handed them to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, said,
“These are the padlock keys.”
Then he walked over to the door, stood so that his body shielded the large bunch of keys from any casual observer who might be looking out of any window whatsoever.
In fact, there was a great temptation for him to turn back to the automobile, and disassociate himself from what was going on.
But he could not do it.
Despite what he said, he still loved the treacherous Musalmān Beauty.
Yes, he suspected Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was using him as a stepladder.
But even then he could have her amazingly exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body until she needed him as a stepladder at least.
After all, what was there to lose?
It took five keys before Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found one that would open the padlock.
The lock clicked back.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus calmly opened the door.
We moved inside of the garage.
After a moment, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus called Al Nadīm Al Quddūs sneeringly.
Her voice was exaggeratedly sweetest.
In fact, she cooed actually.
“My dear utmost wise husband, would you kindly oblige me to come here?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs hesitated a few moments, then reluctantly entered the garage.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had opened the sedan doors.
Now, she was feeling the seat cushions and the carpet on the floor.
“Look at this rear cushion, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sarcastically, “doesn’t that feel damp to you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put a reluctant hand on the cushion.
“The left side.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It feels sort of damp.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs admitted.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus frowned thoughtfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“That’s right. You frown thoughtfully because you have yourself too realized now that it would have been soaking wet if your theory was right.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus immediately searched through the automobile.
Disappointment appeared on her face.
“Clean as a hound’s tooth, ma’am.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs announced triumphantly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully.
“I guess I’m off on a wrong trail. The only thing to do now, is to get out of here fast. Hang it, Allah, I can’t get over that damp place in the seat of cushion. What the hell could have caused it?”
“I damn care.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said triumphantly, “Nevertheless, if it had been what you thought, it would have been wetter than that.”
“I’ll be damned.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully, “Let’s take a look at the motor temperature.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus clicked on the switch and looked at the electric gauge.
“Cold as a cucumber.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus flicked off the switch.
“Okay, I guess I’m licked. Durgesh has played some still deeper game, deeper for me at least.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs chuckled.
I kept smiling only.
I didn’t comment.
“I guess, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd could have used another car.”
“Well, there isn’t any evidence here to back up your theory.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched him scornfully.
“The tragedy is that if it isn’t here I don’t know where I have to go to look for it.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly, “let’s get out and do our talking afterward. I never liked this idea in the first place.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs started for the door.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus made a quick final survey of the garage.
Suddenly she said,
“Hell! Look here.”
Her voice was suddenly filled with triumphant excitement.*
I was riding Al Samīnah Al Qāsim once more.
We had fucked since in countless sex positions.
No doubt she couldn’t make with Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
He was a righteous man who believed sex was not actually a virtue for men.
The men, if they were really righteous, must control sex.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim needed enormous sex instead.
“Abbū and I both think it’s just a joke someone played. You know Ammī now even more than Abbū and me, I think. She swears that it was my picture in the frame when she was doing the packing, but Ammī gets excited when we travel. You see, Zāherah Ħusayn and I look alike, even if Zāherah Ħusayn wouldn’t admit it. Ever since I started traveling, people in restaurants and night clubs have been staring at me, nudging each other and whispering.”
“You might capitalize on it. A stand in or something.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim didn’t know then what her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, had planned actually.
We were half through breakfast when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, approached us.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim deliberately left us and went to her stateroom as soon as she saw her Ammī.
She wanted to give privacy to her Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, with me.
It might be Al Nāsirah Al Karīm wouldn’t talk freely in Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s presence.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to stop Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Nonsense. Your Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, is an ultramodern Musalmān lady. She wouldn’t have been a Trillionaire if she were so backward.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s hand.
“I know my Ammī more than you do, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. She isn’t a Trillionaire when she deals with her children. She is an Ammī then.”
“Al Nāsirah Al Karīm,” I looked at her, “I have some information for you.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan on her cheeks.
Yet she grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis too and squeezed it appreciating it.
I smiled, squeezed her still gorgeous rich Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed me on my lips.
I hugged her.
“Can you tell me now?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm glanced dubiously at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“You have to decide it.” I smiled, “It’s your family secret, not mine.”
“It’s all right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “I can understand. Excuse me, please.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm held her wrist.
“It’s all right, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. I may need you too. Please, stay with us if you don’t have another work more important to do.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, squeezed her arm and assured Al Nāsirah Al Karīm that she was staying.*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked resignedly.
“Now what the hell is it?”
“Over here.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him curtly, “Quick.”
The tone of her voice brought Al Nadīm Al Quddūs to her side immediately.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was bent down over a dark corner that was under a workbench.
“What the hell is it?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked impatiently now.
He had lost now all his patience.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straightened.
She was holding an army blanket in her hand.
“Feel this.” She ordered Al Nadīm Al Quddūs scornfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs felt of it, then whistled.
“Soaking wet.” He exclaimed.
“And look under here too, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus bent over and picked up a pair of men’s shoes.
“These,” she said curtly, “were directly under the blanket.”
The shoes themselves were soaking wet.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was stunned.
“You win,” he said involuntarily incredulously, “Allah, by gosh. I’ll hand it to you.”
“Himmat-e-mardān madad-e-Kħudā.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled triumphantly.
“Correct it appropriately.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed, “Himmat-e-åuratān madad-e-Kħudā.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed too.
“Well, what do we do?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked, “Take the evidence?”
“No.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “We put everything back the way it was, get out of here, and let the police make the discovery.”
“Do you think they will?”
“They will after we get done with them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cheerfully.
“Just put them back the way you found them?”
“Yes, but first look on the inside of those shoes.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus instructed her husband elatedly, “See if there’s a manufacturer’s name. See if you can get his size.”
“Do you want to read me the letters that are on the inside here? I’ll write them down.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cheerfully picked up the shoes, held them so the light shone down on the figures that were stamped on the lining.
She read off the numbers and the name of the manufacturer.
“Nothing to show the retail store that sold them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked.
“Nothing.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Just the shoe. Eight and a half B as I interpret the meaning of these numbers. However, we’d better check up with a shoe man on that.”
“And get out of here,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said.
“Okay,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “put the shoes back.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put the shoes back, put the wet blanket over the shoes.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the first out of the garage.
I was the last.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus locked the door of the garage.
Once more Al Nadīm Al Quddūs shielded with his body what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was doing so that no one in the apartment house could see Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wiping fingerprints off the padlock with a handkerchief.
I helped Al Safiyah Al Ghaus into the car, then climbed myself pulling her on my lap, sitting on the seat.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straddled on my Uncut Hindu Penis facing me.
“You really think the police will find it?” suddenly Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“Oh sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “It’s not Durgesh that forgot to remove them from the garage. He isn’t that careless. It’s either Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd or Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself.”
“Can’t it be a bait?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs suggested.
“Bait? For me?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“They can’t harm me now any more as I can’t harm them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said gravely, “Moreover, they know it very well as I do myself.”
“Then why are you trying to harm them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd wants to revenge me. I have to see she never succeeds. It’s my legal right. Isn’t it?”
“Well, how can you blame Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd? You’ve broken her home. Hadn’t you?”
“Well, that’s the point.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “She blames me for it. She justifies herself. She isn’t cured even now. Until and unless Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd doesn’t stop justifying herself and blaming others for her failures she is open to be harmed either by me or by someone else.”
“Okay. What about my younger brother Al Muħammad Al Qāsim?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked her bitterly.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I’m destroying the Musalmīn and the Musalmīn are so foolish that they are calling me Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated.”
“Because you are using your Seven Movements to advertise your extraordinary spiritual capabilities among Musalmīn.” I smiled at her niftily, still fucking Amīnah Zahīr.
“And Musalmīn don’t understand it?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan kept smiling.
“You are shrewd enough to understand the shortcomings of Musalmīn. Most of them are blindly superstitious, because they are Uneducated/Under Educated. The Uneducated/Under Educated Mullahs and Maulavīs oppose their modern education so that their followers may not abandon them. You are influencing the Mullahs and Maulavīs themselves.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan complaining.
“Bājī, I’ve myself seen you and your agents bribing these Mullahs and Maulavīs and other Musalmīn of influence.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched him curtly.
“The problem with Abbū Imām, Durgesh, you and other similar ideologists is, you always argue about means. You never see the practical impossibility of your ever Utopian suggestions.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled at me.
“Jījū, your utmost successful Practical Chief Wife is criticizing even you now.”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Well, what’s wrong in criticizing him if he is wrong? He never claimed to be Omniscient.”
I smiled merely.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan continued to say.
“He himself admits no one is Omniscient except Allah Rabbil Åālmīn. He knows so many things more than we do. He has experienced so many incidences than we have. Naturally he understands so many things more than we do, and more deeply too. But that’s all. That’s the limit of your Jījū too. Beyond that he too assesses everything. And his assessment may be wrong too as well as it may be right. Am I right, my love?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at me.
“Right.” I smiled, “Sorry Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, I’m too a human being. Even my assessments may be wrong. I too don’t, and can’t, know everything.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
“The difference between Abbū Imām and Durgesh is that Abbū Imām is an ideologist only, while Durgesh is a Practical Ideologist. Abbū Imām can dream better but as he is far more behind than Durgesh in both knowledge and experiences, he doesn’t know how to make his dreams true optimum as Durgesh does.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand beamed at me with immense pride.
“But,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled unwearyingly, “similarly Durgesh isn’t a woman, is he?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand laughed.
“Jījū is the Absolute Man.”
“Yet, not a woman.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan repeated insistently.
“Therefore he can’t understand what we womankind need actually as optimum as I can.”
“Bājī,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand protested.
“There are so many things, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, that we womankind never tell even our life partners.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at me.
I was grave now.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.
“Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, you believe your Jījū more than you believe your Bājī, don’t you?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand watched her gravely.
“My morals are more identical with Jījū, Bājī. I never hide it from anyone.”
“You, your Jījū, Abbū Imām, you all never try to understand how to get Pseudo Musalmīn votes. The Pseudo Musalmīn are actually the most confused persons in the Multiverse.”
“I see.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand said gravely.
“The Pseudo Musalmīn are actually always the pendulums between True Islam and Pseudo Islam.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr interrupted.
“The police has told me that it isn’t established beyond doubt that the victim of the murderer is Colonel Åbdul Raħmān.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled ironically.
“The police is playing a deep game so that Ved Nagar can’t be held politically responsible for the murder of one of my Commandos. It’s only a razzle dazzle. Both the nations India and Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat do understand they don’t want to antagonize Ved Nagar. They can’t afford it.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr laughed.
“Ved Nagar can do anything?”
“Almost anything.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled triumphantly.
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr looked at Amīnah Zahīr.
“I’m unable to understand, my lady, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat is smiling triumphantly however her reliable commando is murdered. The police say they can’t establish beyond doubt that the body is really that of Colonel Åbdul Raħmān. She has deputed Colonel Åbdul Raħmān on some secret mission and Ved Nagar administration itself has helped her, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat actually.”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr, you are promoted to be the leader of Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn. Congratulations. You really understand what we do more efficiently than the rest of you.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr bowed half to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, respectfully.
“Shukriyah, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated.”
Amīnah Zahīr smiled.
“Bājī, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated, I own a ranch in Nevada as well as I own a ranch here at Ved Nagar too, both with Durgesh, of course, as you yourself own each and every property you have, with Durgesh, yourself, everywhere, even in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. It’s rather a large holding. Durgesh likes it. I like to live there with Durgesh. Durgesh loves Musalmān Beauties, Musalmān houseladies especially. There’s a guest ranch, a so called dude ranch, adjoining our property in Nevada. I find some of the guests women who stay there are rather interesting. It’s unfortunate that they find Durgesh more interesting rather than me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed sensitively.
Amīnah Zahīr only kept smiling respectfully.
“As you can well judge yourself, Bājī, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, many of these guest Musalmān Beauties, Musalmān houseladies, are not there simply because they like the idea of recreation on a guest ranch in Nevada. They are there because they want to establish a six weeks’ residence in order to get a divorce.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand watched his wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim gravely.*
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim winked at her husband impishly.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand averted his eyes hastily to look at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, me and Muħammad bin Qāsim whether anyone of us has noticed it.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was not backward, yet he was relatively more sophisticated than his ever impish ever naughty wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand respected Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me both more.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, instead, always teased both of us.
She was my Sālī after all, my sister in law.
Amīnah Zahīr joined Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan this time in smiling cunningly as well.
“I am frank to admit that most of those Musalmān Beauties, those Musalmān houseladies, take interest in Durgesh usually, naturally.”
“Naturally?” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim nudged me.
“Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim!” I admonished her.
“Sure,” Amīnah Zahīr said, “yet we can’t blame them. They are there for divorce. It’s obvious they are separated from their husbands already. Consequently, missing sex and a loving masculine attention already for a relatively long time. When they find even Durgesh is available to them, well, they start to enjoy sex with Durgesh sooner or later.”
“Every one of them?” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim teased us impishly.
“Almost every one of them.” Amīnah Zahīr smiled sophisticatedly, “Usually, I mean, of course.”
“Of course.” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim’s impish eyes twinkled conspicuously.
Amīnah Zahīr winked at Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim and continued.
“The women who sever their domestic ties go to a state where they have no friends. They find themselves, usually for the first time in years, entirely on their own. They are apt to be lonesome, naturally. Consequently, apt to be seeking companionship too with as powerful a man as they can get. I happen to have a ranch that is accessible. Durgesh happens to be available as an utmost caring, utmost lovable, utmost loyal, utmost reliable, masculine friend. Why the hell they don’t take the advantage of the opportunity?”
“I agree with you, Amīnah Zahīr.” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim smiled cunningly.*
Amīnah Zahīr smiled.
“I had always lived on my ranch and enjoyed it until Al Samīnah Al Qāsim came to Nevada, to establish a residence on this adjoining dude ranch. She liked Durgesh and enjoyed more sex with Durgesh than she had enjoyed with even Abbū Imām, her husband. Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was a very determined and a very resourceful woman. She had a very definite plan of operation. We became very good friends gradually. Yet, I had long been for the right sort of investment here in Ved Nagar. Who doesn’t now, if s/he is capable? My real estate broker found this place. It was offered at what I considered a bargain as price go these days. I talked with Durgesh. Durgesh approved my decision. I told my dealer to close the deal without letting the owners even suspect that Durgesh was too involved anywhere. It would have caused the price to go to the sky. The deal was closed very quietly keeping the news as far as possible out of media.
“When our dealer had the property all in escrow, I simply slipped from my ranch in Nevada. Durgesh told Al Samīnah Al Qāsim that I had been called away very suddenly on business that would keep me out of state for some time. I would get in touch with Al Samīnah Al Qāsim as an opportunity presented itself. In the meantime I was working on a deal that was so confidential I couldn’t take any chance of having any slip.
“Durgesh and I jumped in our own private plane and flew to Denver. We had to stop for a few hours at our Denver branch office of HVSI Group of Companies, then flew for Ved Nagar. We picked up a new automobile that had been ready for delivery to our order, and came here to this place.
“I was very careful not to let Al Samīnah Al Qāsim know where I was. Durgesh was already available to her in his another body. Why the hell she had to pay any attention to what the damn I was doing? When Durgesh is available himself, the all a Musalmān Beauty, the all a Musalmān houselady is interested ever is undress Durgesh completely, undress herself completely, and enjoy sex with Durgesh as much as she can.”
Amīnah Zahīr was smiling cunningly now.
It was not easy for Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand to believe a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty could be that cunning.
His Bājī, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was really transforming the Musalmān Beauties, the Musalmān houseladies, miraculously.
Actually, his Bājī, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was herself a miracle after the greater miracle, Durgesh.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī was following Durgesh step by step very adroitly.
Moreover, she knew very well, very meticulously, where to deviate from Durgesh to transform Musalmān Beauties and extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houseladies to use them optimum for establishing her dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
It was a miracle the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, criminals/criminal minded Musalmīn were being cuckolded fastest under her Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī knew very well how to deal with the bastards.
Now, almost the entire global media even is acknowledging her ever great achievements.
It’s being written and discussed now surreptitiously that the Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had effectively decreased the terrorist and criminal activities of Pseudo Musalmīn, even though the movements are in themselves not as humane as they should have been.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has laughed.
“Humanity with the animals who never respect any human life except that of Pseudo Musalmīn? Never. I’ll cuckold every one of them, bastards. I’m not Durgesh. They are enjoying Durgesh’s so called humanity on the cost of innocent persons’ very life. I’m Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I have my own definition of humanity. Cuckold the bastards who never respect human life if it’s not a Pseudo Musalmān.” *
Amīnah Zahīr was grave now.
“The information that Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was in Ved Nagar comes out as a distinct surprise to me. She did not come here, however, last night or any other time to have the gasoline tank of her automobile filled. I haven’t seen her since I left Nevada. She is a very lovable woman, however. I happen to know that, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, however, had a deep seated fear of her husband, Abbū Imām. She was planning something. I don’t know exactly what it was but I do know that Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was very much afraid of what her husband, Abbū Imām, would do when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim started to put her plan into execution.
“There are some things, however, I won’t like to say here in the presence of witnesses. But Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was talking of a picture, Abbū Imām and Durgesh’s yacht.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was suddenly all alert now.
“How do you know Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was talking of Durgesh Jījū’s yacht? I think it was another yacht that belongs to Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim. My wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, knows about it more, I think.”*
Out on deck, on my ‘yacht’, I found the fog had thickened until it was impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction.
The ship was facing upstream now.
Standing up there, I could hear the sullen gurgle of cold water as the current swirled around the anchor chain.
Confidently, thoughtfully, I moved aft, reached the stem of the vessel.
I saw a member of the crew.
He appeared to me to be so.
I didn’t know him personally.
Neither it was possible for me to know everyone personally who was in my staff.
I had a large staff even on this ship.
He was bundled up in a heavy mackinaw.
Standing motionless, I thought he must have been a night watchman.
If my assumption was correct he hadn’t to care anything for the guests.
He had only to wait simply the night out, standing there as still as a statue.
I walked back again toward I came from.
Suddenly, I stumbled over a piece of rope.
I couldn’t kick it to one side.
It must not be there.
Hell, the security must be instructed to find out and inform me why it was there.
The security in charge regretted the incidence and promised me to find out immediately.
I walked back to a position amidships on the starboard side.
I stood there for some ten minutes lost in thought.
I was aroused suddenly.
It was a sudden stabbing sound of a woman’s shrill scream, from the vicinity of the bow.
A sharp report followed almost instantly by a peculiar series of muffled splashes.
I looked to the stem.
The man who had been on duty as watchman was no longer there.
It was possible he had run to the bow, keeping to the port side.
Was he really a watchman?
Now I doubted even it.
I turned to dash back toward the bow.
I heard the soft patter of hurrying feet and then, almost without warning, a figure, walking confidently down the deck, collided with me.
I felt the soft touch of damp silk.
My nostrils caught the faint scent of perfume.
I realized the woman I was holding in my arms was stunning, confident and definitely not in panic, even infinitesimally.*
My first assessment was that she was the woman who screamed.
She was the woman the soft patter of whose hurrying feet I had heard.
But the stunning Beauty I was holding in my arms was neither hurrying, nor she was in any condition so that I could say she was the woman who screamed.
It was a sudden stabbing sound of a woman’s shrill scream, from the vicinity of the bow.
I couldn’t forget it.
I could feel the pumping of her heart, the tension of her muscles.
Her hand moved and inadvertently it touched my ever sensitive rising Uncut Hindu Penis.
Yet I was suddenly all alert.
I had caught the glint of faintly reflected light from some metallic object.
I realized immediately she was carrying a gun.
From up near the bow I was expecting the cry that was so ominous to seamen the world over.
‘Man overboard. MAN OVERRR-BOARD!!’
But no, it wasn’t there.
Nevertheless, from the sea, there came a series of thumping noises against the side of the ship.
It seemed that some struggling kicking object was swept past by the current on the side of the ship opposite to that where I was standing.*
There followed an instant of silence.
The extremely stunning Beauty in my arms had deliberately grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis now.
She was even playing with it now, even more confidently than she came into my arms colliding with me.
It was my ship.
I owned it.
But I didn’t know who this dazzling Beauty was.
She was anywhere around twenty eight.
The most she could be, thirty, not more.
Her build, body and behavior was telling me that she herself was too a Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty.
Her frankness was telling me, she belonged to one of the ever notorious Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
I didn’t know why I had a feeling now that I had seen her with Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl.
She resembled Åābidah Ibrār Ålvī very much.
Yet, I could not place her still now.
Then I suddenly placed her.
I hadn’t seen her with Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl.
I had seen her with Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl instead.
She was present when I kicked Muħammad Kamāl and Aħmad Kamāl both out of their own house, claiming that Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, and Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl, 20, were, all the three, my wives now.
She was standing there enjoying the incidence very much.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
2: Of my Musalmān Enemies
The beach was one of my most favorite places to be. Not just for the Musalmān babes but for feeling of the sun warming my skin while the cool breeze coming off the ocean to cool me off.
Today I was just relaxing by myself and taking in the rays.
I think I half drifted off a few times but I was just aware enough to realize that some clouds had moved in blocking the sun.
I also noticed the temperature dropping a few degrees.
Anyone from some place with a beach knows that means it’s about to start raining.
I opened my eyes and saw that others had noticed it as well and were packing up to leave.
Seemed everyone was getting ready to leave so I guessed it was going to storm.
One look at the sky told me I was right.
It didn’t look too bad but definitely not beach weather.
I started packing up my things too when I noticed someone out in the water.
Whoever it was, they were having a hard time trying to get back to the shore.
Apparently they were out on the sandbar when the weather turned bad.
I knew there was no way they were going to make it because of the undercurrent.
I could swim pretty well but even I could not make that.
I watched for a few moments to see if whoever it was made any headway.
Right then I figured out it was a female.
She turned on her back and was floating.
Not a good sign.
It meant she was probably worn out from swimming against the current and was about to be carried out either side of the sandbar and out to the ocean because of the undercurrent.
I took off into the water knowing I would have to take her back to the sandbar and wait till the tide changed before coming back in.
I hoped it wouldn’t start storming and lightning but I knew the sandbar was the safest place with all things considered.
The water was starting to get choppy and that made it a strenuous swim to get out to her.
Luckily whoever she was she was at least smart enough to float to her back when she got worn out.
As I started getting closer she began to look a little familiar.
Oh Eīshān! It was Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī.
She hated my guts.
Her brother, Nādirshāh Durrānī, always lost to me his every Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife.
I fucked every one of them.
Nādirshāh Durrānī divorced them as soon as he learned it.
Nonetheless, hating someone is one thing, being in the ocean and about to be swept out to sea was entirely another.
I swam up along side of her and I saw that she was breathing very heavily and was shaking.
I guess she heard me because she kind of lowered more of her body into the water just as I reached her.
She really looked like she was having a hard time staying afloat.
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, are you ok?” I asked.
“Go away Durgesh, I am just fine! You always help us Musalmān damsels in distress so that you can fuck our Īmān. I don’t want to lose my Īmān to your damn legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund. Let me alone, please. You have already fucked my every Bhābhījān making hell my brother’s life. I hate you.” she scorned.
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, you are about to be swept out to the ocean, we need to go to the sandbar and wait till the tide starts coming back in.” I said.
She didn’t say or do anything.
She just floated there breathing.
I guess somehow she knew I was right but didn’t want to relent or ask for my help.
I didn’t know how she would take to me pulling her back to the sandbar.
Nevertheless, I moved behind her, put my arm around her and started making my way to the sandbar.
As I suspected, Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī started fighting me and kicking her feet wildly.
She was yelling something that I couldn’t make out with the water flooding over my ears but it didn’t matter.
I had encountered Musalmān Beauties like her before.
Now all of them were fucking me themselves without even a single exception.
My honest love for them had always won.
I approached from behind so that the wild kicks and flailing arms don’t accidentally get me.
Her kicks actually helped me tread water but her hands and nails digging at my arm didn’t feel too good.
It was a fairly tiring swim though because the water was pretty choppy and the undercurrent was pulling us toward either side of the sandbar.
I managed to get us to the sand bar though.
As soon as her feet touched sand Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī really started pulling away.
Since the water wasn’t in my ears anymore I could finally hear what she was screaming.
“I don’t have any bottoms on!” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī screamed.
“I’m sorry, but I had to get you out of the undercurrent. Don’t you understand that you were about to be swept out to sea? I exclaimed.
She didn’t say anything.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī just sat there with her legs under her butt in the edge of the water trying to hide her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān face.
I guess she was embarrassed.
Eīshān, she’s gonna start crying.
Great, now what do I do.
The last thing I needed her to do is get irrational right now and try to swim it again.
I moved to the edge of the water a few feet away from her and said,
“Here, you can have my trunks”. I shucked them off and extended them to her while turning the other way.
I had made sure I was in the water enough that I wouldn’t be flashing her.
I heard her move and finally take them from me.
A few moments later I asked if she had them on and Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī replied a pouting “Yes”.
I turned and looked briefly.
They were ridiculously loose on her.
Yet they did the job.
I didn’t push myself though and looked away.
We sat there quietly not saying a word.
I could feel the tension in the air though.
I didn’t know how much of it was her seething that I was the one that saved her from what she had to know was in a dire situation or the embarrassment of not having any bottoms on.
‘Wait a minute. Why didn’t she have any bottoms on?’ I thought to myself. Oh well, I am not going to ask.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī was tall.
Six foot tall.
That was the most remarkable thing about her.
I am not short myself and am in pretty good shape but still, 6′ is tall for a chic.
Sure she was a blonde and had a very good figure but what I had always remembered about her was that she was tall.
I guess that was because she lacked depth in personality.
She was nice and all but she tended to be on the fickle side.
I had already fucked a lot of her friends too, as well as her Bhābhījāns.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī hated me for it more.
“Actually she is jealous of all of us.” One of her Bhābhījāns told me once when I was fucking her.
We both were enjoying it very much.
“You mean Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī also wants me to fuck her?” I smiled.
“Isn’t she extremely beautiful?” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, her Bhābhījān, smiled at me cunningly.*
I winked at her fucking her.
“You are right.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, her Bhābhījān, wrapped her legs around my waist.
My Uncut Hindu Penis entered into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt deeper.
I kissed Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ.
She contracted her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Shaft.
“Nādirshāh Durrānī never reached this deep. Thank you.”
I fucked her more vigorously.
“Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, I love you. You never need to flatter me to have my Uncut Hindu Penis into your ever enticing Musalmān Cunt.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ looked at me cunningly.
“All of us Musalmān Beauties have Musalmān Cunts to entice your Uncut Hindu Lund to penetrate us. What’s special in my Musalmān Cunt?”
“Nothing that I know of until now. Yet, my sixty four years age experiences with you Musalmān Beauties have taught me, every cunt has its own individuality. Its own specialty consequentially.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered.”
“I’m not flattering you, idiot. I mean it.”
“Why the hell you don’t believe me?”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ had her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes suddenly filled with tears.
“We Musalmān Beauties are always deceived, Durgesh.”
I kissed her eyes.
“Never cry when you have me inside you. It means I’m not fucking you optimum.”
“Nonsense,” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed with tearful eyes, “you are the first who is fucking me as I myself want to be fucked.”
“You are most welcome, my Hindu love.”
“Nādirshāh Durrānī is smaller?”
“Ask his other Musalmān wives when you fuck them.”
“Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, most of you Musalmān wives claim your Musalmān husbands are not competent. But in so many cases I’ve found they were only flattering me. Nafīsah Salmān claimed Imām Muħammad Ħasan was impotent. Now I know Imām Muħammad Ħasan is not impotent.”
“Now? Why? Didn’t you see his now utmost successful daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan? How did Nafīsah Salmān have Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan if Imām Muħammad Ħasan was impotent? Didn’t you argue with Nafīsah Salmān?”*
I smiled ingeniously.
“Why should have I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nafīsah Salmān was one of the most extremely beautiful Musalmān Beauties I’d enjoyed until then. I was fucking her to my heart’s content and she was flattering me still then. Why should have I antagonized her? I never do it. I’m not foolish enough to antagonize my women when I fuck them.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed melodically.
I felt as if I was hearing azān instead.
My Uncut Hindu Penis strengthened more inside her tight Musalmān Cunt.
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ kissed me gratefully immensely indebted.
“Did any Musalmān Beauty tell you ever, you have one more unique sexual prowess other men haven’t?”
“What?” I smiled astutely.
“The more you fuck us, the more your communal lust to fuck us Musalmān Beauties increases tending to infinity as if. The other men are being satisfied, lose it instead.”
“I haven’t any communal lust.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed.
“Then what the hell we Musalmān Beauties enjoy more inside us with you than with our own Musalmān husbands?”
“You think it’s my communal Hindu lust for you Musalmān Beauties?”
“If not, what the hell is it?” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed good naturedly, “You haven’t to be ashamed of it. We don’t feel insulted, rather we feel proud of it that your own Beauties can’t satisfy you optimum, yet we Musalmān Beauties do.”
“Even you Musalmān Beauties can’t satisfy me optimum, Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ. I’m an incurable hyper sexual. You yourself admit the more I fuck you, the more my ‘communal lust’(?) to fuck you Musalmān Beauties is increased. Don’t you admit yourself it?”
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes widened.*
Why did Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī hate me?
Not only because I fucked all of the Musalmān Beauties her brother Nādirshāh Durrānī married.
There was one reason more.
Her sister, who was 2 years older than her at 21 used to work at the same beach hut that ran the life guard station that I worked at.
I caught her stealing some of the bathing suits that the hut sold and turned her in for it and Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī got plenty pissed off at me for it.
What she didn’t know was that I was the reason she didn’t get arrested over the issue.
I literally bargained with the authorities not to.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī never gave me the chance to tell her that and quite frankly I didn’t really care to.
I did the right thing and shouldn’t have to explain myself for doing so.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī’s problem was that she didn’t see her sister for what she was.
She was not only a thief, she helped her brother, Nādirshāh Durrānī, in smuggling too, even in kidnapping, smuggling, blackmailing and selling Musalmān Beauties to capable and powerful Hindus especially.
They used to purchase them in their auctions, paying even the highest price the others offered ever.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī’s sister was a pothead.
She probably stole the stuff to sell for drugs.
I knew it was only a matter of time before she did something stupid.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī refused to see that.
“They came off when I was trying to swim back to the shore.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I asked.
“My bathing suit bottoms. They came off when I was trying to swim back to the shore.” She explained.
“Oh.” I smiled reassuringly, not wanting to seem as if I was using this to engage in a conversation with her.
I guess Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī just didn’t want me to think she was nude bathing out here.
Was she a nudist?
Well, what if she is?
Who the hell am I to decide for her what she should do and what not?
My own Practical Chief Wife now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was herself an incurable nudist, feminist and exhibitionist.
She was so proud of her magnanimous, excellent, exquisite, Saåūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān female body that she loved to fuck me in public, on stage even.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was never ashamed of it.
The more one criticized her for it, the more nudist, Feminist and exhibitionist Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had become.
How the hell could I criticize Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī for the same?
I did notice though that Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had not thanked me for my trunks.
“Why did you bring me back to the sandbar instead of the shore?” she asked.
“We wouldn’t have made it to the shore. With the tide going out the undercurrent was trying to pull us out to sea. With the water being choppy it made it even harder to swim. Our best bet was to come back to the sandbar and wait till the tide starts going back in.” I responded.
“Is it going to storm?” She asked with a hint of fear in her voice.
“It looks like it is going to rain but I don’t think it will be bad.” I answered.
It then occurred to me that I had not driven here and was going to have to call someone to take me home.
How the hell was I going to face someone with no trunks?
Should I call Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Well, why not?
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, did you drive here?” I asked.
“No, I took the bus, why?” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said.
“Umm, I took the bus too and I have no trunks now.” I said with kind of a defeated look on my face.
“Oh, umm, well, hmmm.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī stammered.
We both sat there quietly thinking to ourselves.
Of all the people each of us to get stuck in a situation like this with it had to be her and I.
I didn’t particularly care for her and she certainly hated my guts.
It was Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī that spoke first.
“Durgesh, I don’t really like this situation. I don’t like wearing your trunks but I don’t have much choice in the matter. I know you don’t really like me wearing your trunks but I appreciate your being a gentleman about it and giving them to me. I have a wrap on the beach and once we get there I can give your trunks back to you, but I am scared to go on the public bus with just a wrap on for bottoms. You know how those perverts get on the busses, it gets crowded and they get touchy feely. This is hard for me to ask but can you please forget our differences for a bit and see me home?” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said eloquently.
I was in shock.
But it was a pleasant shock, nevertheless.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī was always smart in school but she never had any worldliness about her.
She never had depth of emotion and quite frankly I figured her for the type to just leave when we got to the shore with my trunks.
“Umm, yeah, sure.” I smiled.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī then asked,
“How much longer till the tide starts coming in?”
“About an hour and a half.” I smiled again.
“Well, I am going to relax till then.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said.
With that she leaned back while still keeping her legs bent.
I guess Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī resigned herself to have to be civil with me at least until this was over.
I was still taken back by how prolifically Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī spoke earlier.
She completely conveyed what she was thinking and how she felt.
Hell, she even showed empathy for my feelings.
I sat there thinking and looking around just trying to pass the time till the tide started coming back in.
I noticed something out of the corner of my eyes.
I looked over at her and Eīshān! I could see clear up my trunks to her extremely stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
The trunks were really loose on her and they weren’t very long anyway.
I couldn’t believe it.
I tried looking away and ignoring it but it was like one of those stains one finds on someone’s shirt.
You know, when you are standing there talking to someone and they have a stain on their shirt and you can’t help but look at it.
I didn’t want to sit there and stare at it because if I did and got a hard-on she would definitely notice it as Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had my trunks.
I had to do something.
I didn’t want to show her I wanted to fuck her now.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī could tease me and torture me sexually.
I never wanted her to win over me.
Why should I?
I decided to just roam around in the water a little bit.
The cool water should help me keep my member under control.
I did see enough though to know that Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had shaved her mound completely.*
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Just Eighteen Just Adult
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was really looking forward to this weekend away with me.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I sat side by side on the plane heading for Spain, Waħīdah Ǻbbās closed her eyes and thought back to how it had all come about.
Allah, how difficult it was to seduce Durgesh, Waħīdah Ǻbbās thought.
And the bastards, Musalmīn, claim Durgesh is a Hindu communal sex maniac.
Durgesh fucks every Musalmān Beauty he meets ever.
Bosh and nonsense.
If the ever communal bastard Musalmīn were true in their ever false ever communal claim, why the hell so many Musalmān Beauties were still dreaming and suffering to have Durgesh as their lover/ live in relationship partner?
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was Just Eighteen Just Adult, and liked to think that she was independent.
She was just coming to the end of her first year at University.
For the last couple of years, Waħīdah Ǻbbās had chosen not to go away on the annual family holiday with her younger sister and her parents.
The previous summer, the rest of the family had gone to Spain, and had spent the day in Barcelona, a city Waħīdah Ǻbbās had always wanted to visit.
When we got back, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was quite jealous of us for having been there, and on the spur of the moment, Durgesh had promised to take her there for a long weekend.
For various reasons, the long weekend had never happened – until now.
About a month ago, the topic of the trip had come up again.
Durgesh was due a few days off, and so – without telling Waħīdah Ǻbbās – he had stumbled about on the internet, and booked them some flights and two rooms at a decent looking hotel.
It had all seemed to work out okay, and she was actually quite proud of me for having booked the holiday that way.
I could barely contain myself when I surprised Waħīdah Ǻbbās with the tickets a few days later.
The excitement had built over the next few weeks as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had both looked forward to the trip.
The two of us had always got on well, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās actually got on better with me than she did with her Ammī, particularly in the last couple of years since she had got over those difficult, early teenage years.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had caught the early flight to Barcelona on the Friday morning, and had until our flight back, late on Sunday afternoon, to enjoy ourselves.
I smiled at Waħīdah Ǻbbās as I caught her looking across at me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I laughed, for no other reason than Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were happy to be getting away for a few days, able to spend some time together.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās shut her eyes and relaxed, thinking about me.
Despite the ever communal ever unjustified in their Hindu hating dastardly claims of the Pseudo Musalmīn, Waħīdah Ǻbbās found me never communal, never Musalmān hating.
I was okay, she thought to herself.
Generous, a good laugh, kind.
And extremely good looking too, Waħīdah Ǻbbās concluded.
Actually, she thought, I was outstandingly handsome, in every kind of way.
Moreover, she knew that almost everyone of her friends fancied me like mad even at my sixty-four.
Was I really sixty-four?
No one believed it ever.
Except perhaps her Nānājān, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, and Durgesh himself.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās laughed to herself at the thought, preferring men her own age, but understanding the attraction of someone older.
Nowadays, it was a surprising trend for Waħīdah Ǻbbās that Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties were mostly interested in senior Hindu males, instead of those of their own age.
In Ved Nagar, it was almost a miracle now if a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty dreams of a Musalmān or a Hindu male of her own age.
“Teenagers are immensely inexperienced.” one of her closest friends, Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, said scornfully, “They are as afraid of taking our cherry as we ourselves are. The bastards, always seeking safe girls who have already lost their cherry either to their fathers or brothers.”*
Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl looked at Ǻāliyah Kāmrān immensely horrified.
“To their fathers or brothers, Ǻāliyah Kāmrān?”
There was a strong disbelief in Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl’s voice.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān laughed at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl.
“I hate you.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl shouted at Ǻāliyah Kāmrān protesting strongly.
“Nevertheless, you are a chicken still now even at your Just Eighteen Just Adult. Stupid girl.”
“Shut up. Keep your filthy mouth shut. You dirty bitch.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl thundered at her.
Some of their friends were watching them quarrel, with interest, but most of them were laughing at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl.
Yes, some of them were neither laughing at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl nor watching them interested in their futile quarrel, but even they were smiling at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl with quite an immense smirk on their lips.
“Chicken,” Ǻāliyah Kāmrān laughed at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl mockingly, “the world is not as moral as you childishly think. Most of the fathers fuck their own daughters and most of the brothers fuck their own sisters until they are not married to their foolish husbands.”
Farħānah Salāħuddīn laughed.
“Not only that,” she confirmed Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, “there are so many Ammīs even who are cougars to the extent that they have their sexual relationship with their own son.”
“You are dirty girls.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl said scornfully, “I hate all of you.”*
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān teased Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl not to humiliate her, to teach her instead the cold and hard things of life.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān wasn’t as lucky as Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl was.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān had had to face grim realities of life, consequently, even while she was Just Eighteen Just Adult only.
The kitten’s eyes, waving back and forth, followed the ball of crumpled paper.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān was waving it high above the arm of the chair.
The kitten was named Green Eyes because of the color of her eyes.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān liked to watch her eyes.
Their pupils were always changing, narrowing to ominous slits and widening to opaque pools of onyx.
Those black and green eyes had an hypnotic effect on Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, as Durgesh himself had on almost entire womankind.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān disagreed.
There isn’t any exception, as far as Ǻāliyah Kāmrān knew.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān’s own elder sisters hated Durgesh once.
They deliberately, stubbornly, married eligible Ǻrab Royal Sheikħs.
Their age difference even didn’t matter at all.
Ultimately, her Māmūjān, Muħammad Yūsuf, was proven to be exactly correct.
Eventually, everyone of her elder sister seduced Durgesh herself.
And now, they are having their actual live in relationship with Durgesh while still married to their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands.
Their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands tried to object on it.
Durgesh immediately transferred his numerous stocks of shares in the oil companies in the name of their wives.
Their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands suddenly found their wives actually controlled now their oil wells even.
Their objections died out eventually after a long futile struggle.
The royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands surrendered to their richer wives for their own financial survival.
It was their bad luck that Saůūdī Årab was not Saůūdī Årab anymore.
She was Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat now.
Modern Democratic Årabia.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was its ever first President.
Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.*
However, it was not exactly as Ǻāliyah Kāmrān thought it was.
Her eldest sister, Kħālidah Kāmrān managed it somewhat differently.
Her Ammī, Kāzimah Yåqūb and I left work early at five o’clock because she wanted extra time to get ready for the Halloween party our friends were throwing tonight.
Kāzimah Yåqūb and I worked together at my office.
I was an utmost successful Sex therapist in the suburbs and Kāzimah Yåqūb was my Colleague lady Sex therapist.
I met Kāzimah Yåqūb just after her second year of medical school to become a Lady Sex therapist.
Kāzimah Yåqūb was 18 at the time.
Shortly after we met, Kāzimah Yåqūb got pregnant from me.
Kāzimah Yåqūb wanted to manage her live in relationship with me, but Kāmrān Hāshimī proposed her surprisingly.
“Why not oblige me, Kāzimah Yåqūb?”
“What do you mean?” Kāzimah Yåqūb could not understand.
“I’m a bisexual, Kāzimah.”
“What? How the hell you know it?” Kāmrān Hāshimī was dumbfounded.
“Nāzimah Raħmān told me.”
“Allah! Is she telling everyone that I am a bisexual?”
“Not bisexual, worse. She is telling everyone that you are impotent, not capable to satisfy any woman. You exploded as soon as you entered Nāzimah Raħmān. Nāzimah Raħmān had to go to Durgesh to extinguish the fire you incompetently set between her legs.”
“Durgesh? She went to Durgesh? But she loves Shankar Mahāpralayankar.” Kāmrān Hāshimī was horrified.
“Nāzimah Raħmān doesn’t love Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Shankar Mahāpralayankar loves Nāzimah Raħmān. Nāzimah Raħmān hates Shankar Mahāpralayankar. He is a Criminal.”
“But… but Shankar Mahāpralayankar said…”
“Nāzimah Raħmān isn’t responsible for what Shankar Mahāpralayankar claims. Only Durgesh could save Nāzimah Raħmān from Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Nāzimah Raħmān hadn’t another option. Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucks even the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs in their asses.”
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar is more powerful than the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs even. The royal Ǻrab Sheikħs can’t protect themselves from his criminal powers.”
“As they sowed so they’re reaping.” Kāzimah Yåqūb said curtly, “The royal Ǻrab Sheikħs created Shankar Mahāpralayankar against Musalmān terrorists to protect their kingdom. They succeeded in protecting their royal kingdom from Musalmān terrorists, but not from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. They thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t do anything. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan slapped them, rather kicked them actually with her far stronger feet than the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had. As they sowed so they reaped. What’s wrong in it?”*
I looked at Waħīdah Ǻbbās, as she sat, totally relaxed, her eyes closed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was quite beautiful, just like her Ammī at that age.
She had had her red hair cut for our break, but it still hung around her shoulders, framing her awfully stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
She really was quite lovely, with her big brown eyes, full lips and pert nose.
Like many girls of her age, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing a tight sleeveless top, with the narrowest of straps, which clung to her body, curving softly around her full Musalmān breasts.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s tanned midriff was bare, the gold cross in her pierced belly button glinting softly.
Her skirt was – according to her Ammī – too short.
Looking across at her, I suddenly felt aware of myself at how my ever experienced Hindu male eyes were drawn to her long, slender, tanned female Musalmān legs.
The flight wasn’t that long.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had been fed a typical airline breakfast, had a couple of cups of coffee, and bought Waħīdah Ǻbbās some duty free perfume, it was time to start descending towards Barcelona.
As soon as the captain announced our approach to the airport, Waħīdah Ǻbbās grabbed My arm, her excitement evident on her terribly stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face, her Musalmān breasts squashed against me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās bent over to try and see more out of the window next to me.
Once the plane landed, and came to a halt at the terminal, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were amongst the first to leave the plane.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I dashed through the airport, hoping that our luggage would arrive quickly.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were in luck – it seemed that only minutes after Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached baggage reclaim, our cases were on the conveyor belt in front of us.
Minutes later, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were in a taxi heading for the city centre.
The taxi driver picked up on our excitement straightaway, and was soon chatting away in his broken English, pointing out the various sights as he drove.
He offered us a sight seeing “detour”, and as it wasn’t much more than the fare itself, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I took him up on his offer.
He drove us up to the highest part of the city, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I gasped at the panoramic views in all directions, of the docks and the cruise ships lined up in one direction, and of the city in the other.
He showed us the historical sights, where the famous football stadium was, where the Olympic village had been, and so much more.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached the hotel, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I couldn’t wait to see more.
I paid off the driver, and then led the way through to the hotel reception, proud to have beautiful young Waħīdah Ǻbbās on my arm, proud yet cautious of the admiring looks Waħīdah Ǻbbās was getting.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to my arm as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I waited in the short queue at reception, both of us chatting away happily.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached the reception desk, I gave the receptionist our name, and then waited while she found our paperwork.
As she looked through it, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both became aware of the looks the receptionist was giving us.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās giggled.
“She thinks I’m either your wife or at least your Musalmān girlfriend,” she told me, hardly able to hold back her giggles.
The receptionist gave me the booking in form to sign with a frosty smile, and asked to see our passports.
I handed over the passports, and then looked at the form the receptionist had asked me to sign.
“I’m sorry,” I told her a few minutes later, “there’s been a mistake. I booked two single rooms, not one twin room.”
As the receptionist took the form back, I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the e-mail confirmation I’d received.
I also had the screen print form when I booked the hotel over the Internet.
“Look – there,” I pointed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked as well.
“Durgesh darling,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried mischievously, seductively, naughtily. “It is wrong – look at the boxes your secretary ticked erroneously. You’ve booked one, Double Bed room, instead of two, Single Bed rooms.
She pointed at the e-mail.
I stared at the paper in front of me.
It suddenly dawned on me what my secretary had done.
“You can’t be trusted with secretaries, can you?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, only half joking as she saw our weekend being spoilt in front of us.
I told her not to worry, that I would sort it out.
But, as the receptionist explained, the hotel was fully booked.
If Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I wanted two rooms, then Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I would have to look elsewhere.
I looked helplessly at Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
“We’ll take it,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās announced firmly. “After all,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me softly, trying to make me feel better, “There is a Double Bed – and a bathroom to get changed in.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I finished booking in, gave the still disbelieving receptionist My credit card details, and then followed the porter to the lifts, and the eighth floor.
He opened the door to our room for us, and placed our cases just inside.
As I tipped him, he gave a knowing wink.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās squeezed my arm, telling me to ignore the porter.
He thought Waħīdah Ǻbbās my young wife or young Musalmān girlfriend and we were here to enjoy sex with each other.
It was normal for him to welcome aged Hindu multimillionaires with their sexy young Musalmān secretaries/ girlfriends.
I followed Waħīdah Ǻbbās into the room.
Like so many hotel rooms, there was a short corridor, with the bathroom off to one side.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās popped her around the door to look inside.
It was actually quite big, with a partially sunken bath as well as a separate shower cubicle.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās came out, she saw that I had stopped.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās walked up behind me, and took in the rest of the room.
It was quite large, with sliding doors out to a balcony which overlooked the city, and a LARGE DOUBLE BED.
She stopped, her eyes frozen on the bed.
I recovered first.
“Don’t worry,” I told her, “It’s probably just two beds pushed together – I’ll get the hotel to move us.”
“Look,” I added, as I flipped up the bed clothes to show her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both stared.
There was only one set of legs.
It was only one bed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I stared at each other.
I eventually broke the silence.
“I’ll get us another room.”
“How?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās asked. “You heard what that receptionist said.” She stared at me for a moment longer. “We’ll just have to put pillows between us like when we were kids.”
Despite myself, I laughed at the memory of when Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had all gone to Disneyland six or seven years before.
The hotel room had two big beds, so Waħīdah Ǻbbās had shared with me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had used pillows to split the bed into two, but by the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had finished, the pillows had begun to look like a barricade.
“Are you sure?” I asked, totally fed up with myself for getting it all so wrong.
“Yes,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told, squeezing my arm reassuringly.
“Now come on, I’m starved. Let’s get unpacked, and then get some lunch,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās added, more brightly than Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt, but wanting to cheer me up.
An hour later, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were sat in the warm spring sunshine, outside a cosy café towards the top end of Las Ramblas, a wonderfully entertaining street in the centre of Barcelona, eating omelettes, Waħīdah Ǻbbās even enjoying a bottle of red wine.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I ate and Waħīdah Ǻbbās drank.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I felt more relaxed, the problems of the last few hours disappeared, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I started to plan our weekend.
I was torn between sight seeing and going to the Nou Camp stadium to soak up the atmosphere and watch football, while Waħīdah Ǻbbās wanting nothing more than to visit all the shops Waħīdah Ǻbbās could find, looking at the sights as Waħīdah Ǻbbās went.
In the end, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I decided Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I would try and do everything.
“Okay, let’s go for it,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, before adding mischievously, “So long as we go shopping first!”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I spent the afternoon shopping.
I actually quite enjoyed it, glad to see Waħīdah Ǻbbās so happy as Waħīdah Ǻbbās took me from shop to shop, trying on dozens of items for every one Waħīdah Ǻbbās bought.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I even went shopping for me, as I gave in at last to Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s pleas for me to “get with it!”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I still hadn’t finished when the shops began to close.
“There’s always tomorrow,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, skipping out of the way as I playfully swung a shopping bag at her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I strolled the half a mile or so back to the hotel, our arms linked, enjoying each other’s company as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I always did.
Back at the hotel, I had a quick shower and then left the bathroom free for Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
When I heard her in the shower, I leisurely dressed, putting on the new clothes that Waħīdah Ǻbbās had left out for me.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās re-appeared, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was dressed and ready to go out.
“What do you think?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās asked, spinning around to show off her new outfit.
While my wolf whistle was meant to be playful, I couldn’t help thinking how good Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had put on a tiny amount of make up, just enough to highlight her extremely sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān features.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing a short, flared skirt and high heels, both of which helped to show off her legs to perfection.
The skirt fitted just tightly enough around her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass to show just how sexy it was.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wore a vest top with very thin straps, with a shirt over the top of it.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had left the shirt unbuttoned, and I couldn’t help but notice how the vest clung to the shape of Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s pert Musalmān breasts.
“You look beautiful, sweet heart,” I told her, “You make me so proud.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās hugged me, telling me I “looked even more killingly handsome than I myself realized”.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I stood close together, I suddenly realised just how good it felt to have Waħīdah Ǻbbās in my arms like this, just how sexy Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt against me.
I let go of her as if I’d been burnt, Mumbling something about us “needing to go out” as Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked at me quizzically.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I ate in the hotel restaurant.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I took our time, and even I felt relaxed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I looked forward to the next few days.
After dinner, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I went for a walk around the place de Catalunya, strolling slowly amongst
the fountains and statues, enjoying the atmosphere.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I got back to the hotel, it was quite late.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I went into our room, there was – just for a moment – an uncertain silence between us, as if Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I didn’t quite know what to do.
But then I went into the bathroom for a quick wash.
When I came out, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was sat on the edge of the bed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās glanced across at me as I came back into the room bare chested.
She stood up, her pyjamas in her hand, and went to take her turn in the bathroom, smiling at me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās brushed past me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly unsure about sharing a room, let alone a bed, with Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, and quickly decided to get changed.
I grabbed the pyjama’s I’d bought earlier and quickly unwrapped them.
I didn’t normally wear pyjama’s, preferring to sleep in the nude or in an old tee shirt if it was cold.
But while there were out shopping I had bought some just for the weekend.
I stood up, quickly pulled my trousers and underwear off.
As I stood naked, reaching out for my pyjamas, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
“Amazing,” I thought, smiling to myself.
At sixty four, I did still look okay.
I always kept my tan, and had managed to avoid putting on too much weight over the years.
While my muscular legs and chest have not softened even slightly with the passing of time, I knew that I could still draw the odd admiring look when I was on the beach.
As I stood naked, my pyjama’s still in my hand, the bathroom door burst open.
I sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed, holding my pyjama’s still in my hand, not even covering my Uncut Hindu Lund and balls, my face startled.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās stopped dead, looking at me, feeling very embarrassed both for her and me.
I looked at her, my mouth suddenly very grave.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing her favourite Winnie the pooh pyjamas.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had had them for years, so they were now a bit too small, but she still loved to wear them.
The short sleeved top, which had once been baggy on her, now fitted snugly over her Musalmān breasts, her nipples clearly visible.
I stared at her, at the picture of the bear on the front, at the way the picture moved with her, with her body, with her Musalmān breasts, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās breathed.
Her pyjama bottoms were shorts, and while they had once reached her knees, they were now half way up her tanned thighs.
Behind her, in the other wall mirror, I could see just how tight they were over her firm Musalmān ass, how they clung to her soft Musalmān curves.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās stared at my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund dumbfounded.
We both were in trance.
For how much time, none of us knew.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās just kept staring at my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund dumbfounded.
I kept watching Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās recovered first.
“Come on Durgesh darling, get a move on,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās crossed to the other side of the room, doing her best not to look in my direction as she started to put her clothes away in the wardrobe.
“Waħīdah Ǻbbās, I’m trying to get changed,” I told her, saying the first thing that came into my head.
I felt angry with myself for getting us into this mess, and with Waħīdah Ǻbbās for being so sexy, so beautiful.
And with myself for the way my Uncut Hindu Lund was reacting openly.
“Oh come on, Durgesh darling, I won’t look.”
“Well you better not,” I told her, trying not to look in her direction, my voice unexpectedly gruff.
“And if I do? I’ve already more than enough. I’ve already digested too much what the unique you have for us womankind.” Waħīdah Ǻbbās teased me.
“I’ll have to spank you,” I retorted, automatically using our standard joke.
I glanced in the mirror and saw that Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking away now.
I carefully shook my pyjamas to unfold them, before standing up to step into them.
I glanced up again.
This time I saw Waħīdah Ǻbbās in the mirror, looking in my direction.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could obviously see my buttocks, but that wasn’t where Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking in the mirror as well, at my reflection, at my rock hard Uncut Hindu Lund swaying in front of me, at my heavy Hindu balls hanging beneath.
I dragged my pyjamas up my legs and sat down.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had been looking at me so openly.
Or had I imagined it?
Her voice was small, so quiet I could hardly hear her, even though Waħīdah Ǻbbās was now stood next to me.
I felt angry again, at her, at myself.
I reached out and grabbed Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s arm, dragging her to me and throwing her over my knee.
“I told you what would happen,” I almost shouted, as my hand crashed down onto her perfect big ass, barely hidden by the thin material stretched tightly over her hot Musalmān body.
She screamed and wriggling, kicking her legs as my hand crashed down again.
I felt the heat of her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass against my hand as I smacked her for a third time.
I stopped, breathing heavily, my hand resting on her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, her heat radiating through to me.
I was suddenly aware of her Musalmān breasts and belly against my leg, of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her pyjama top had ridden up and I looked down at her back, at her smooth skin, at her beautiful sun tan, at the small tattoo at the base of her spine, at the way her narrow waist flared out to meet the soft curves of her hips and ass.
A groan escaped from deep within me as I ran my hand softly over her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, and up onto her back, feeling the shape of her sexy Musalmān body.
I slipped my hand into the back of her shorts, pulling them down as I ran the tip of my middle finger down between her cheeks, knowing it was wrong but totally unable to stop myself.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās gasped, trying to take in what was happening, trying to understand why the pain Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was now being overwhelmed by the pleasure shooting through her.
“Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried, wriggling harder as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my finger scratching lightly over her puckered Musalmān bum, as waves of pleasure washed through her.
“Durgesh, stop,” she moaned, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hard Uncut Hindu Lund against her belly, as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot flooded, as She pressed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot herself down against my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I sensed the change in her, but couldn’t work out what it was.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was still wriggling, but her movements were now more deliberate, more controlled.
My already hard Uncut Hindu Lund stiffened even more as I realised that Waħīdah Ǻbbās was actually rubbing her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot against it, against the hardness of my knee.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās thought Waħīdah Ǻbbās was going to faint.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, her whole body, ached with the pleasure surging through her.
Her nipples felt like they were ready to burst they felt so hard.
And beneath her, Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel the hardness, the heat, of mine.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās couldn’t stop herself.
It was as if a floodgate had suddenly opened.
She pressed her whole body down against me, wanting me.
With a groan, I felt Waħīdah Ǻbbās press down against me.
I pushed my hand further into her pyjamas, reaching down between her legs to find her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried out as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my Uncut Hindu Lund on her, suddenly scared, very scared, by the depths of her feelings, of her need, of her desire for me, of her need for release.
She scrambled away from me, falling onto the floor before quickly standing up.
Her chest was heaving, her nipples rock hard against the thin material of her top.
There was a dark patch on her shorts where Waħīdah Ǻbbās had been rubbing against me.
I looked Waħīdah Ǻbbās up and down, drinking in her sexiness, my heart thumping.
I saw her eyes looking down at me.
Glancing down, I realised for the first time that my Uncut Hindu Lund had escaped through the open fly of my pyjamas, and was now stood erect, all eight inches of it, thick and hard, the head red and engorged, and already wet with pre cum.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Lund jerk.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s eyes widened as Waħīdah Ǻbbās watched my Uncut Hindu Lund swaying.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās didn’t resist, didn’t want to resist, instead when Waħīdah Ǻbbās herself grabbed me, plunging herself to me, her mind blanked by lust.
Her shorts were half ripped away from her body as she grabbed them and plunged herself towards me.
I caught a fleeting glimpse of her red hair, but then Waħīdah Ǻbbās was straddling me, neither of us sure of what was happening, neither of us wanting to stop, but both of us knowing that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had to.
“Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās almost sobbed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās knelt over my lap, her knees on the bed each side of my nude Hindu male thighs.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās didn’t feel in control of her body any more.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel my hands on her hips, the unbearable heat of my Uncut Hindu Lund against her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās groaned.
“Durgesh, I’ve never ……..”
And then Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hands pulling her down onto me.
Her knees collapsed under her, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt the searing heat of my rigid Uncut Hindu Lund driving upwards into her ardent Musalmān body.
“….. done this before …” Waħīdah Ǻbbās finished, my Uncut Hindu Lund already deep inside her like a rod of steel.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās screamed with pain, with desire, as My Uncut Hindu Lund tore into her body.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās automatically straightened her legs, lifting herself away from me.
She sobbed, tears welling up in her eyes.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked at me, at the awful confused, pained expression on my face, at the horror at what had happened, what she’d done, in my ever experienced Hindu male eyes.
“Oh Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās breathed, lowering her body back onto mine.
This time it was I who was frozen, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered her sexy young body back down onto me.
She moved slowly, almost gingerly, reaching down to hold my Uncut Hindu Lund, her hand barely big enough to reach around my thick Hindu shaft. Waħīdah Ǻbbās wrapped her other arm round my neck as she eased my Uncut Hindu Lund back into her body, wanting me, wanting my Uncut Hindu Lund, desperately.
I held her hips lightly, not quite believing what was happening, watching Waħīdah Ǻbbāss face as Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered herself onto my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund.
I couldn’t believe how hot, how wet, how tight Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt as the engorged head of my Uncut Hindu Lund slid into her.
I somehow resisted the urge to push my Uncut Hindu Lund into her as deep as I could, to pull her hips down onto me, and let Waħīdah Ǻbbās take her time.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered herself onto my lap, Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips stretching around my Uncut Hindu Lund as it slipped into her.
The pain Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was being washed away by the strength of her pleasure as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot moulded itself to every ridge, every contour, of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
With a deep groan, she settled onto my lap, all eight inches of my thick Uncut Hindu Lund buried inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was in awe of her body, of the pleasure surging through her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had no idea how all of that wonderful Uncut Hindu Lund had fitted inside her, but it had.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt so full, as if my Uncut Hindu Lund was reaching up to between her Musalmān breasts.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wrapped her arms around My neck and looked into my ever experienced Hindu male eyes, seeing the same need, the same desire in my ever experienced Hindu male eyes as Waħīdah Ǻbbās was sure I could see in hers.
Her legs were spread wide, her knees each side of me.
It felt as though Waħīdah Ǻbbās was being split apart by my Uncut Hindu Lund, speared deep inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel my balls against her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, my hands stroking her hips, running softly over her body.
Still looking into my ever experienced Hindu male eyes, she eased herself up on my Uncut Hindu Lund, feeling it sliding out of her a few inches before dropping back onto me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wiggled her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass a little, and then lifted herself again, enjoying the wonderful sensations flooding her body more and more, enjoying the feel of my Uncut Hindu Lund deepest inside her, the feel of my skin peeling back over my Uncut Hindu Lund head each time she moved her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot up and down my Hindu length.
It seemed natural for us to kiss, tentatively at first, our lips barely touching.
But then Waħīdah Ǻbbāsicked slowly along My lips, before poking her tongue between them, feeling our way inside my mouth.
Moments later, our lips were locked together, our tongues thrusting and exploring.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I kissed, I pulled Waħīdah Ǻbbās to me, feeling her Musalmān breasts, her hard nipples against my chest even through her flimsy pyjamas, our hips now moving as one.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I broke our kiss, staring at each other as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I gasped for breath, our lips still for a moment.
Silently, Waħīdah Ǻbbās reached for the hem of her top, and pulled it slowly up her body and over her head.
I gasped, my Uncut Hindu Lund jerking inside her, as the rest of her body was uncovered.
My ever experienced Hindu male eyes moved with her, following the edge of her top upwards.
Firstly, it was her flat, well toned belly with the little gold cross nestling in her belly button.
I had always been against her having her navel pierced, but now all I could think about was how sexy it looked, Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked.
As the top went up higher, my hands moved from her hips and slowly up the sides of her slender body, her skin smooth and soft under my touch.
Gradually, as if in slow motion, the soft swell of her Musalmān breasts came into view.
I moaned, my hands tightening around her, as her sexy young Musalmān breasts were unveiled to me.
They were bigger than I’d ever imagined, but still firm, very firm and beautifully shaped.
They seemed to turn upwards at the end, and were slightly conical shaped, her nipples hard and swollen, the aureoles dark and wide.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās saw how I was looking at her, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot throbbing at the expression on my face.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās held still for a few long moments, her arms above her head, her Musalmān breasts thrust out to me, wanting me, as I feasted on her extraordinary Musalmān beauty.
I reached out to her, my hands moving smoothly across her body to cup her Musalmān breasts.
I sighed as I felt her firmness beneath my hands, just as Waħīdah Ǻbbās sighed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hands on her, the rough skin on my thumbs scraping lightly over her sensitive nipples.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās threw her top onto the floor and pulled my head to her.
I pressed my head into her cleavage, my hands still on her Musalmān breasts, the two of us still for a moment except for the gentle movement of our hips, of my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.
I watched as her nipples puckered and tightened even more under my touch as I moved from one to the other I squeezed them gently, and then harder.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās held my head to her, wanting, needing, my attention, her hips rising as Waħīdah Ǻbbās began to fuck my thick, hard Uncut Hindu Lund again.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I moved as one, my Uncut Hindu Lund ploughing into her, stretching her, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to me, as I squeezed her Musalmān breasts and nipples, my hands roaming easily over her body.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt as though My Uncut Hindu Lund was filling her entire body.
It felt huge inside her – and Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved it.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way it filled her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, reaching deep inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way it moved, the way her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot wrapped itself around it.
And Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way the pain, the dull ache, Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was now being replaced by waves of intense, almost painful, pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt nothing like it ever before.
The pleasure filling her, reaching the very ends of her body, was amazing, and was being driven there by my stunning Uncut Hindu Lund inside her body, by my hands on her body, by my mouth on her Musalmān breasts.
Everything was a blur as Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to me, holding me tighter and tighter as the pleasure inside her became almost unbearable.
Our hips, our bodies, were moving faster now, my Uncut Hindu Lund reaching deeper and deeper inside her as everything else was forgotten except for our pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried out as her orgasm tore through her body, wave after wave of intense pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās threw her head back, her chest flushed, her body tense, as I buried my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her and clung to her, in awe of her reaction, of the pleasure Waħīdah Ǻbbās was enjoying.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was almost sobbing with relief as her body relaxed, as I began fucking her again.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was bouncing up and down on my lap as I drove my Uncut Hindu Lund wildly into her, her Musalmān breasts bouncing in front of me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās rode my violent Hindu thrusts, as she straddled my knees, pushing down to meet my Uncut Hindu Lund as I drove it deepest into her body.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I fucked, her juices poured from her onto my Uncut Hindu Lund and balls, the room echoing to the wet sounds of our bodies moving together.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my Uncut Hindu Lund grow even bigger inside her as my climax approached, as another climax washed through her.
As my Hindu cum threatened to erupt inside from me, I started to lift Waħīdah Ǻbbās away from my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“No,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried, understanding what I was trying to do, “it’s okay. Give it to me inside, please.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās drove her body downwards, using her weight to drive my Uncut Hindu Lund back inside her just as my balls contracted and sent my Hindu cum into her body in thick jets.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both cried out, I at my release and Waħīdah Ǻbbās at the feel of my Hindu cum filling her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, mixing with her juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I clung together, my Uncut Hindu Lund throbbing inside her, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot squeezing my n cum from me.
I collapsed backwards on the bed, breathless, my muscular body slick with sweat.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās lay down on top of me, her cheek resting on my chest, my softening Uncut Hindu Lund still filling her hot, wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“I love you, Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās murmured, hugging me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my arms around her, “I love you now even more than I ever did before. Thank you. Thank you very much for accepting me in your life forever, my dear Hindu husband.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I lay still for long moments, savouring the feel of each other, before Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I inevitably thought about what had happened.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both knew that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I should be feeling guilty, but Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I didn’t.
All Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I knew was that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I wanted it more, much more.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās got up slowly.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās knelt beside me, I propped myself up on my elbows, looking at her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās leant over and kissed me softly, her hand resting on my belly.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked down at my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was still semi erect, lying at the base of my belly, still slick with cum and juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās giggled at the fact that I still had my pyjama bottoms on, at the huge wet patch from her juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās dragged them down my legs, leaving me naked, and then got up off the bed.
I watched her, drinking in her ardent Musalmān nakedness, her beauty, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās crossed the room and went into the bathroom.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I said with a smile,
“I can’t believe how wet you are, but I love it, baby.” I nursed Amīnah Zahīr’s right nipple and my fingers teased her needy Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Amīnah Zahīr lay with her eyes on me.
She was enjoying such an utmost skilled lover, even if, I was aged enough to be her father, rather Grandfather.
Even then, it was normal for me now.
I was fucking countless Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties now every day, in my countless bodies.
The inauguration of their Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Cunts by me, was now itself a normal event of celebration.
Once I couldn’t believe it could even happen anywhere.
Yet, now I was doing it every now and then ceremoniously.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had now even changed the values of societies successfully.
I don’t know.
“I’m so glad that we’re doing this Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! and I never want it to end.” Amīnah Zahīr said with immense love for me.
Amīnah Zahīr was ready for me to love her.
“Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties, I’m on fire,” Amīnah Zahīr said with intense need and want.
“Well, why don’t you climb on and take your ol’ Durgesh darling, your Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, tum Musalmān ħasīnāon kā Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of you Musalmān Beauties! for a spin!”
Amīnah Zahīr heard me.
And Amīnah Zahīr was ready instantaneously.
In a flash, Amīnah Zahīr was on me now.
“Allah Allah! Oh God, I’m so horny, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!!” Amīnah Zahīr moaned as she rubbed her dripping Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy on my rock-hard Hindu shaft.
Amīnah Zahīr got on her feet, squatting like a catcher in baseball and she reached down to guide me in her exquisite Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
“Oh yes! Oh yes, oh Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!! Allah! Ahhh, God!” Amīnah Zahīr screamed when my big, fat Uncut Hindu Cock-head slipped into her tiny Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy-hole, stretching it wider than ever before, but I was in her and nothing else mattered now.
“Oh fuck! Allah Allah! Oh my fuckin’ Goddess, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!!” Amīnah Zahīr squealed as my Uncut Hindu Cock-head spread her wide.
It hurt, but Amīnah Zahīr was not going to stop for anything.
It was her dream coming true now.
Most of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends were already fucking me even in public places openly.
She couldn’t do it because she wasn’t adult until now.
I held aminah-zahir‘s extremely beautiful gorgeous Musalmān butt as Amīnah Zahīr slowly lowered herself on my Uncut Hindu Cock.
As it entered her exquisite Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, her tight vaginal muscles grabbed my Uncut Hindu Lund around its entire length and thickness.
It was as if I was being sucked by her superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young mouth again.
I controlled myself from moaning.
Instead, I smiled proudly as Amīnah Zahīr lowered.
Amīnah Zahīr took me deepest into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, while her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy sucked me in.
Moreover, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy sucked hard.
“Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties, I love you!” Amīnah Zahīr moaned as my Uncut Hindu Cock slipped deeper, deepest.
It felt so wonderful in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, filling it full of my Uncut Hindu Cock, but this Uncut Hindu Cock, was Mine and it was the best.
“Oh fuck…Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties, I love you so much!” Amīnah Zahīr grunted as Amīnah Zahīr lowered, easing more of my Uncut Hindu Cock inside her tiny Musalmān hole.
I smiled and lightly kissed her crimson Panjvaqtah Namāzī Just Eighteen Just Adult young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips, enjoying her young, fertile sex.
“I love you too,” I whispered as Amīnah Zahīr started rocking her superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back and forth, side to side and any other way Amīnah Zahīr could move.
“Oh yeah, that feels good!” I moaned and held her superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks, savoring her wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and Amīnah Zahīr’s tightness around My Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Oh Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties, I love you inside me!” Amīnah Zahīr cried out as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy burned and juices were pouring from her, covering me and it made a wonderful sound.
“You’re so…fuckin’ big and long!” Amīnah Zahīr moaned as I slid deeper, deepest, continuing to stretch her.
The wet, slurp sounds filled her ears and Amīnah Zahīr loved hearing it.
“Mmmm, I’m so wet for you and your Uncut Hindu Cock is like…heaven,” Amīnah Zahīr smiled and her superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks started bouncing up and down, moving faster and with more need than ever.
I held Amīnah Zahīr and I could sense her need.
“Is My girl horny? Does My sweet baby need to cum on her Durgesh darling?” I whispered to her and Amīnah Zahīr moaned, moving faster and driving me deeper into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Amīnah Zahīr heard me and liked hearing me talking sexy to her.
“Oh Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!. Talk sexy to me! I…love…it…Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!!” Amīnah Zahīr whimpered as Amīnah Zahīr continued to bounce up and down on my long, thick Uncut Hindu Cock.
“How sexy do you want it?” I asked as I squeezed Amīnah Zahīr’s ass, grinding her against me.
I could feel her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy starting squeezing me.
Amīnah Zahīr loved my big, powerful hands squeezing her gorgeous, superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and when I pulled her down, shoved myself to the back of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. “I like it…sexy as fuck! Oh Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties, I’m wanta be your Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān whore!” she yelled as she rocked side to side and quickly lifted up.
Amīnah Zahīr lowered back down and Amīnah Zahīr took me all.
I slapped her gorgeous, superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass playfully and shoved her down on My Uncut Hindu Cock.
“You are too young to be a whore, even exclusively mine, but I can train you, bitch, if that’s what you really want to be!” I said with a ‘fake’ mean voice and I slapped her gorgeous, superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Amīnah Zahīr slammed down and I drove to her core.
“I wanta be exclusively your…whore, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!! Please train me, please!” Amīnah Zahīr screamed as the sting from her gorgeous, superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, quickly rushed over her entire body.
Amīnah Zahīr went up and down the entire length of My Uncut Hindu Cock, Amīnah Zahīr’s head was spinning and her heart was racing.
“Go faster, Amīnah Zahīr! Fuck your Durgesh darling, slut! Fuck your Durgesh darling.” I growled as I continued to slap each of Amīnah Zahīr’s ass-cheeks.
I started to lift My hips up, shoving My Uncut Hindu Cock to Amīnah Zahīr’s core.
“Oh yes, I’m nothing but an exclusively your whore… exclusively your whore…Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!!” Amīnah Zahīr yelled out as I slapped her gorgeous, superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass playfully, rammed My Uncut Hindu Cock in her so hard.
I called her such wonderful names.
“I’m your nasty, little…whore!” she yelled louder as I lifted up, thrusting My long Uncut Hindu Cock deep into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, touching places that Amīnah Zahīr never knew were there, until I found them for her.
“Fuck me, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!! Fuck me, harder!” Amīnah Zahīr screamed.
Amīnah Zahīr came again.
I felt her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy clamp around My Uncut Hindu Cock and I held Amīnah Zahīr as tightly as I could.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy grabbed me and it started pulling on me, hoping it could make me cum, but I needed a little more time in Sāliħah Ayyūb’s daughter’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, to cum now.
“Ahhh, that’s my Amīnah Zahīr,” I whispered when she fell on me. “Yeah, that’s my good, little Amīnah Zahīr,” I whispered again as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy grabbed me again and it pulled harder.
This time, it won and it got my Hindu cum.
“Oh fuck, you Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bitch! You fucking made me…cum!” I laughed as my Hindu cum shot from the tip of my Uncut Hindu Cock and it sprayed deepest into the back of Amīnah Zahīr’s warm Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. “Ahhh, Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! My God, Amīnah Zahīr! Oh baby, oh yes!” I grunted as I lifted my hips, making sure that my every, single Hindu seed was shooting deepest in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān belly.
Amīnah Zahīr lifted her head and smiled at me.
“Allah! Subħān Allah! Holy God, I do hope it’s that good every time!” Amīnah Zahīr smiled.
I smiled and my hands caressed over her long and very smooth back, when a strange thought, filled my mind. “Hey, I know that it’s a little late to ask this, but are you on the pill?” I asked and I could feel her giggling.
“Yeah, it is, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties, but didn’t you have a splendid time fucking me, your Amīnah Zahīr. Huh Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties?” Amīnah Zahīr watched a terrified look cover my face. “Huh, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties? Did you enjoy fucking your Amīnah Zahīr and cumming up her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy? Mmmm, I bet you loved it, until you remembered about the pills!” Amīnah Zahīr laughed more.
“Hey, are you taking them or not?” I asked again.
“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait and find out, won’t you?” Amīnah Zahīr laughed and eased me from her used and very sore Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. “But, what would you say if I told you that I…wasn’t. What would you do?” Amīnah Zahīr asked me and snuggled against my side.
I just held her and thought for a second.
“I guess we would have a baby, wouldn’t we.” I smiled and it would be fun having a baby with Amīnah Zahīr, but Amīnah Zahīr is Sāliħah Ayyūb’s daughter and that would not go well.”
“I think it would be so fun, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! I could give you ‘our’ baby.” Superb, extremely beautiful, Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young lady, Amīnah Zahīr, jiggled again, stretched up to kiss me.*
Suddenly I heard Shérū barking.
“Hell,” Amīnah Zahīr expressed her annoyance, “who the hell has come now!”
“Shoot the bolt up.” I smiled, “the big black German shepherd is walking on tiptoe around a car, his mane bristling, his nose busily inquiring as to the identity of the late visitors.”
The close circuit TV was opposite me.
Amīnah Zahīr didn’t even bother to look at the same.
“Don’t take any chances with that dog,” Muħammad bin Qāsim warned, “Blow the horn and let’s get someone to come out here and escort us in.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled confidently.
“Most of these ranches and estates here at Ved Nagar, belong to either HVSI group of Companies or the Musalmān Beauties living in relationship with Durgesh. I’d rather try the doorbell. That dog looks intelligent.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim retorted.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Sālé Miyān,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled impishly, “it does with a dog.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand opened the door of the car.
The dog immediately bristled in hostile silence.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked down.
He caught the dog’s eye.
“Look,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand said, as though addressing a human being, “I want to talk with the master of the house. I’m going to get out of this car and walk in a direct line right up to the porch. Then I ring the bell. You can follow along behind me to make certain I don’t make any false move. How’s that?”
With the last two words, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand raised his voice.
Then, without an instant’s hesitation Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand stepped on the ground.
The dog lunged forward, keeping his nose within a half inch of Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand’s legs as the new Managing Director of Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company walked around the car and up to the porch.
“Bājī,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand assured Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, “it’s all right, now you may come.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was watching his activities with apprehensive eyes.
“That’s what I said. But you didn’t let me…”
“I promised Māmū Imām, Bājī. Why the hell don’t you understand?”
“You protect me to this extent, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, while you are only my cousin. If you were my real brother I don’t know how much freedom I’d have gotten.”
“Māmū Imām has adopted me as his legal son now. You keep forgetting.”
“As if you let me forget it ever.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled with immense sisterly love for Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.
“Nanad Bājī,” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim held her head high, immense proudly, “he is my husband. You opposed our marriage. Now what do you say?”
“Sorry, Chhoŧī Bhābhījān.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan touched her ears.
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat is touching her ears, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim Bājī.”
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim raised her head higher more proudly.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand dropped his hands so that the open fingers were where the dog’s cold nose could explore them.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand walked up to the porch and pressed the bell button.
He could hear the sound of chimes inside the rather majestically built mansion.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand waited a minute, then pressed the bell button several times in quick succession.
From the brilliantly illuminated interior of the mansion, there was the sound of authoritative, confident, deliberate footsteps approaching the door.
A light switch clicked on, then another.
The already highly illuminated interior was more illuminated.
A door opened and through the glass in the window, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand could see the figure of an Ǻrab Sheikħ in a double-breasted green suit.
He was extremely strong and bearded depicting his extraordinary vicious manly strength.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
Ved Nagar was full of such Ǻrab Sheikħs.
Wasn’t it a miracle?
The immensely powerful Ǻrab Sheikħs were themselves representing their interests in Ved Nagar, Not through their representatives.
It was such a delicate matter that they refused to delegate their powers even to their utmost trusted persons.
Not only the Ǻrab Sheikħs, not only the Pseudo Islamic Countries, the entire humanity instead was represented here.
Ved Nagar was the factual Capital of humanity now whether one acknowledges it or not.
Legally, Ved Nagar was only a City State in India, enjoying special autonomous status as Jammu and Kashmir.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad dipped her finger in and out three times, and as I zoomed the view back out, I smiled wickedly as she raised the finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, her head tilted back.
“That’s a good Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Sex goddess,” I grunted.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the nudist feminist, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, smiled at me and clinched her already tightest Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal grip around my ever undefeatable, ever insuperable, ever insurmountable Uncut Hindu Cock.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad stepped forward into the shower.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the nudist feminist, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Cock, into her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt entirely, watching the hot water sluicing down the curves of Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad’s beautiful Musalmān body.
“Come on, you ever hottest Musalmān Sex goddess, Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad. Do it.” I winked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the nudist feminist, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad turned in the shower and squatted down, her back against the wall.
I smiled and zoomed the camera in, framing her as her legs came up and her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks rested on the shower floor.
I could see her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, her asshole, tits and face and I felt my heart lifted in excitement.
“Go on. Get busy.”*
Jamīlah Aurangzeb called.
“Lubnā Åālamgīr, don’t forget Durgesh and Ħanīfah Arbāz are going to be here soon,”
Lubnā Åālamgīr headed to her room.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb went on to say,
“You need to clean up your room so we can put a mattress on the floor for your cousin.”
“Yes Ammī,” Lubnā Åālamgīr called back, repressing a sigh.
It wasn’t that Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t like having her Hindu Stepfather and cousin around.
Lubnā Åālamgīr had actually been looking forward to seeing us.
It was just that growing up Lubnā Åālamgīr and I had always seemed to Lubnā Åālamgīr that we liked spending time with each other more than Lubnā Åālamgīr did.
It wasn’t as if we ignored Lubnā Åālamgīr.
We let Lubnā Åālamgīr hang out with us, and everything.
Nevertheless, Lubnā Åālamgīr often got the feeling that she was intruding somehow.
The way her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, had been going on about our visit just reminded Lubnā Åālamgīr of those feelings of being left out.
Lubnā Åālamgīr sometimes mentally blamed it on the age difference.
Lubnā Åālamgīr was about two years younger than Ħanīfah Arbāz was.
Yet it wasn’t such a big deal these days.
Lubnā Åālamgīr was eighteen and Ħanīfah Arbāz was twenty.
It was not as significant a gap as when Ħanīfah Arbāz and Lubnā Åālamgīr were younger.
There was nothing Lubnā Åālamgīr could do, at this point, though.
Ħanīfah Arbāz and I had been really close when Ħanīfah Arbāz was growing up and had moved into an apartment together after Ħanīfah Arbāz’s high school.
There was just no way Lubnā Åālamgīr could compete with Ħanīfah Arbāz.
Still, it would be nice to have us around for a few days.
Ħanīfah Arbāz and I didn’t live particularly far away.
Nevertheless, it was far enough that Lubnā Åālamgīr hardly got to see Ħanīfah Arbāz anymore.
Lubnā Åālamgīr had been toying with the idea of finding a place closer to Ħanīfah Arbāz when she moved out.
Being eighteen and almost done school all Lubnā Åālamgīr could think about was finally getting a place of her own, even if it was just a tiny apartment somewhere.
Lubnā Åālamgīr was distracted enough by her thoughts and cleaning up that Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t even notice me standing in the doorway until Lubnā Åālamgīr happened to turn around.
I was leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed just watching Lubnā Åālamgīr.
“Allah, Allah, oh my God, Durgesh, how long have you been standing there?” Lubnā Åālamgīr demanded.
“A Couple of minutes,” I smiled.
Lubnā Åālamgīr never called me ‘Dad’.
She hated me actually that her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, had left her Abbū to live in relationship with me.
Well, she never hated her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, for it.
However, Lubnā Åālamgīr never accepted me even her Stepfather.
She always called me ‘Durgesh’.
Most of my Musalmān stepdaughters did the same.
Well, it was natural also.
They were adult yet they were not mature enough to understand the interpersonal relationship between a man and woman/women optimum.
Their adulthood could give them legal rights only, not the knowledge, experiences and understanding derived.
I had an amazing poker face when I wanted to, and I was giving no indication of what I was thinking.
Even though Lubnā Åālamgīr couldn’t read my face, Lubnā Åālamgīr decided I probably wasn’t up to anything.
I must have just wanted to see how long it would take her to notice me.
Lubnā Åālamgīr stepped into my arms as I opened them for Lubnā Åālamgīr and we hugged.
Lubnā Åālamgīr lingered a little longer than she usually would have.
It had been a while since her last boyfriend and the contact with a guy felt good, even if I was her Hindu Stepfather.
“Where’s Ħanīfah Arbāz?” Lubnā Åālamgīr asked, finally releasing me.
“Downstairs, still talking.” I smiled.
Lubnā Åālamgīr gave me a light shove and I backed up, letting Lubnā Åālamgīr past me in the hallway.
Lubnā Åālamgīr turned the corner to find Ħanīfah Arbāz just reaching the top of stairs.
“Ħanīfah Arbāz!” Lubnā Åālamgīr hurried the last few steps and threw her arms around her.
“Hey Lubnā Åālamgīr,” she replied.
She pushed Lubnā Åālamgīr back to arm length after a moment and looked her up and down.
“You’re getting bigger.”
Lubnā Åālamgīr gave her a confused look,
“I don’t think I’m any taller since last time you were here.”
“I meant your boobs. They seem bigger.”
Lubnā Åālamgīr blushed and made sure I wasn’t within earshot.
After all, I was not her stepfather for her.
Instead, I was a communal sexual Hindu for her that has succeeded in breaking countless Musalmān homes by snatching away extraordinary beautiful Musalmān wives from their Musalmān husbands.
How those extraordinary beautiful Musalmān wives were suffering from their Musalmān husbands’ unjustified behaviour with them, wasn’t important to her at all.
Being Just Eighteen Just Adult only, Lubnā Åālamgīr was unable to understand interpersonal relationship optimum.
Yet, she didn’t understand her incapability in the matter too.
“Yeah, they’ve been growing some.” Lubnā Åālamgīr said blushing very much.
“They look nice.”
Ħanīfah Arbāz’s last comment confused Lubnā Åālamgīr a little, but Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t worry about it for too long.
She followed Lubnā Åālamgīr back to her room and sat down on the bed cross-legged.
Ħanīfah Arbāz loved talking and she kept Lubnā Åālamgīr entertained while Lubnā Åālamgīr finished cleaning up the room.*
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr smiled at me.
“Sit down, please.” I also smiled at Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, “Welcome at Ashvinātam in Ved Nagar. It’s not so many Musalmīn want to see me after their Musalmān Houseladies break their home for me. Thanks for seeing me even after your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, broke your home for me.”
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr smiled gravely.
“Thanks for seeing me and offering me a seat.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“Thank you. I think Ummat-e-Muslimah is suffering from degeneration nowadays.”
“Ummat-e-Muslimah?” I watched Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr gravely, “Ummat-e-Muslimah only?”
“You don’t agree with me?”
“On the contrary, I agree with you completely, Maulānā Muħtarim.” I said, “In addition, I think every society nowadays is suffering from degeneration, not only Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“Hindu Society too?” Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr watched me cagily.
“Hindu Society too.”
“Well, I thought you are an utmost successful Hindu leader.”
“Sure, I am. Sure, I am. Yet, I am Not a communal Hindu.”
“Do you think I am a communal Musalmān?”
I watched Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr prudently.
I never expected such a direct question from him.
“Does it make any difference in the matter you came to me to discuss about?”
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr didn’t answer my question directly.
Instead, he smiled too,
“I presume you think I’m a heel or impotent.”
“It’s a temptation to answer that question in detail. That’s not an auspicious, a positive beginning.”
“So, in addition to other things, my wife, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, has told you that I’m a negative person too?”
“Have you come to me to discuss your wife with me?”
“Certainly not if you are afraid to discuss her with her still legal Musalmān husband.”
I watched Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr astutely.
“Why do you want to discuss her with me?”
“Because I want to clear my own position.”
“Does it make any difference?”
“Not to you, not to my wife, but to me.” Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr also watched me circumspectly now.
“I see. How?”
“I’m sure she has portrayed me black in your eyes.”
“Every woman, who leaves her husband, does it.” I said gravely, “Even the most unfaithful wife never advises her lover, she is guilty of anything. What’s different there if Jamīlah Aurangzeb also resorted to the same line? You certainly don’t think me such a fool to believe her every word against you.”
“Why not? She is extremely beautiful. I know the power of an extreme Musalmān Beauty, rather Musalmān Beauties, on you ever sexual Hindus.”*
That night, after putting on her nightshirt, Lubnā Åālamgīr settled in on the far side of her bed and waited for Ħanīfah Arbāz to get back from the bathroom.
They had gotten the mattress set up for her, but Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t think she would actually use it.
They always slept together in her bed when Ħanīfah Arbāz stayed over, it had plenty of room and neither of them had a problem with sharing.
Her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, didn’t seem to understand that though and Lubnā Åālamgīr had given up trying to argue the point with her.
Ħanīfah Arbāz closed the door and turned off the light before walking over to the bed and climbing in beside Lubnā Åālamgīr.
They stayed up for a while just talking and giggling before eventually falling asleep.
Lubnā Åālamgīr woke sometime early in the morning.
She found that she had rolled onto her side facing away from Ħanīfah Arbāz.
She also found that at some point Ħanīfah Arbāz had curled up behind Lubnā Åālamgīr and draped her arm across her.
Lubnā Åālamgīr thought about shifting or waking her up, but it actually felt kind of nice and it wasn’t doing any harm.
Lubnā Åālamgīr lay there for a while feeling the warmth of Ħanīfah Arbāz’s body wrapped around herself, before drifting off again.
When Lubnā Åālamgīr awoke the second time, the sunlight was beginning to pour through the window and Lubnā Åālamgīr knew she had to get up soon.
Lubnā Åālamgīr gently lifted Ħanīfah Arbāz’s arm and started to slide out, trying not to wake her.
“Mmph, don’t go, you’re so cuddly,” Ħanīfah Arbāz mumbled.
She freed her arm from Lubnā Åālamgīr’s grasp and wrapped it back around her waist, holding Lubnā Åālamgīr tight.
“I gotta go to University Ħanīfah Arbāz,” Lubnā Åālamgīr said, tugging at her wrist.
“Just five more minutes.”
“Ħanīfah Arbāāāāāāāz−,” Lubnā Åālamgīr whined.
“Okay, okay.” She pulled her arm off Lubnā Åālamgīr and let Lubnā Åālamgīr crawl over her to get off the bed.
Lubnā Åālamgīr had a quick shower and grabbed some toast before just barely catching her bus.
University was predictably tedious, made worse that day because Lubnā Åālamgīr actually had a reason to want to get home afterward.
The main thing that kept Lubnā Åālamgīr from completely giving up on it was the knowledge that Lubnā Åālamgīr only had to get through a few more months and then Lubnā Åālamgīr was done.*
Life around home had gotten rather routine, in spite of the fact that her daughter and son both were also staying with her family.
About two weeks ago, something happened that changed her life forever.
It was a cooler summer evening and I was lying in the bedroom listening to some classical music I loved very much.
As far as I knew, my wife, my live in relationship partner, was doing a crossword puzzle in the other room and everyone else was gone doing their own things.
Ultimately, I decided to get myself a glass of juice from the kitchen.
Picking up my dirty socks, I threw them in the hamper as I walked past it on the way to the front of the house.
Approaching the dining room, I could see into the kitchen.
Then it caught my eye; growing bigger and bigger with every step I took.
Soon it was all that I could see.
It took up my whole visual field and caused my Uncut Hindu Cock to get instantly harder.
It was a giant ass in a pair of intense green sweat pants.
The pants were just tight enough that they formed the outline of both cheeks perfectly pushing deeply into that wonderful ass crack.
She was bent over the counter pushing out her wonderful magnificent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass invitingly.
I didn’t know, or care, what she was doing.
I just had to play with that big Musalmān ass!
It was firm enough that it stood up on its own; no sagging at all.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh God, I just had to fuck the owner of that wonderful Musalmān ass.
Yes, yes, I doubtlessly have my morals.
Nevertheless, no morals stop a Hindu not to fuck a Musalmān Beauty if she is available to him and Hinduism/ Ved doesn’t prohibit him from doing it.
Now I was within reach and pondered her next move only for a couple of seconds before swinging into action.
Quickly I grabbed the elastic waistband of the sweat pants and gave a hearty downward yank.
It took a second yank as the front got caught between the counter and her magnanimous body.
Freed of that monster Musalmān ass the pants fell to her knees revealing a sexy pair of brilliant purple bikini XL panties.
My heart fluttered out of control.
Within a single second, I lifted my hand and gave that huge Musalmān bum a hard swat.
She made a little grunt.
Instantly I gave her a second swat twice as hard as the first.
This time she let out a loud squeal.
As I began, swinging my arm down full force for a third swing it came to me that my wife didn’t own any purple panties and in fact hated the color purple. And furthermore, that squeal sure didn’t sound like my wife’s voice.
Then it hit me like a thunderbolt exploding in my mind that my wife had said she had to go out for the evening and was only working on the crossword puzzles until it was time to leave.
Looking up her body, I realized that this was in fact my ‘daughter in law’, Åādilah Salāħuddīn, whom I was spanking.
Yes, Naåīmuddīn wasn’t my real son.
Nevertheless, his Ammī, Āsiyah Nādir, was my live in relationship partner now.
The third swat hit with a thunderous sound as my hand bounced off my hot rump from the pure force of the swat.
Instantaneously careful now, I quickly drew back my hand.
I was even more vigilant when she swung around to face me and my Uncut Hindu Cock began twitching in my pants.
I couldn’t believe that I was still horny and that part of me wanted Åādilah Salāħuddīn.
However, I had enough composure hurriedly to blurt out,
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, I’m sorry I thought you were my wife, my live in relationship partner, Āsiyah Nādir.”
“You Hindu scoundrel, what do you think I don’t know you perfect? leave my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass alone. I perfectly know you are always after us Musalmān Beauties to fuck us.” she yelled as we were face to face inches apart.
Then she tried to slap the right and then left side of my face as hard as she could.
Already prepared for her such response, I held her arm before she could succeed.
“Bitch, I said I am sorry,” I snapped back and smacked both sides of her buttocks once again.
Why her buttocks?
I was certainly in obsession still now with her extraordinary incredible Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty.
Even the awareness that she was my ‘daughter in law’, had couldn’t change my passion for her extraordinary beautiful buttocks.
She and her Musalmān husband, Naåīmuddīn always hated me openly that I had broken their home by snatching away, Āsiyah Nādir, from her duly married Musalmān husband.
They both were openly anti Hindu, criminal minded and immensely communal Musalmān.
“The fuck you are sorry, fuck head,” Åādilah Salāħuddīn’s face was red with anger.
Then again, I felt the nonstop attempts and potential sting of twin slaps across my face.
“You God Damn fucking communal Musalmān bitch,” I ranted slapping her buttocks even harder.
Our bodies were creeping closer together.
We could feel each other’s hot breath.
“You my Ammī fucking Hindu prick,” again she loaded to slap me.
I caught her hand again before the slap reached its target.
After a strange pause of about a second, our faces drew together with mouths wide open.
Before we knew what we were doing, we were engaged in the most passionate hungry kiss in the history of mankind.
Our hips now ground against each other.
“Oh Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā,” I yelped as our lips parted for a millisecond.
“Yes, yes, I’m so hot, I am a Musalmān Beauty. Am I not?” my partner replied in the wildest of passion.
Hands traversed wildly over our bodies.
When I gave her wonderful magnificent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass a firm Hindu squeeze she responded by grinding her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān pelvic bone hard against my Hindu erection.
Savagely she yanked open my shirt causing buttons to fly all over the kitchen.
Deciding what was good for her was good for me I returned the gesture and ripped her blouse open. Her buttons joined mine on the floor.
My hands grabbed her big Musalmān boobs through her bra and gave them a hard squeeze.
I was just about to reach around and unfasten the bra when I felt her hands on my belt.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
She was a little worried too.
Soon the shaking and shuddering stopped and the flow of juice reduced to a dripping.
Zubaydah Bābar attempted to stand up but her Musalmān legs were like rubber.
I grasped her under an arm and helped her turn around and sit on the back of the couch.
“How do you feel? Is that what you wanted?” I asked Zubaydah Bābar.
Zubaydah Bābar looked at me, pulled me to her and kissed me.
“That was exactly what I wanted. It was the best orgasm I ever had.”
Nishāt Nazli was still staring at her friend.
“Wow, you really liked that. I mean I really bit down hard. Didn’t it hurt?”
I answered for Zubaydah Bābar.
“Of course it hurt. Zubaydah Bābar likes a little pain with her pleasure. Don’t you, Zubaydah Bābar?”
Zubaydah Bābar nodded her head and a sheepish smile crossed her awfully stunning immensely pretty, immensely smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Musalmān face.
“I like it best when it hurts a little. I guess I’m weird.”
“I bet you like to be tied up too, and maybe some spanking or something.”
Now Zubaydah Bābar really started to blush.
“I never tried it, but it sounds like fun.” She admitted.
I helped her stand.
“Come on, Nishāt Nazli; let’s help her to my bed. She’s a little wrung out. Then we can see about her fantasies.”
Nishāt Nazli looked a little fearful.
“You’re not going to hurt me like that. Are you?”
“Not unless you want me to.” I told her as we helped Zubaydah Bābar to the bedroom. “Everybody has fantasies of some sort. Some are more mundane than others are. Some are outright weird and dangerous. Zubaydah Bābar’s are just a little rough. However, she has to be careful whom she acts them out with. The wrong person could really hurt her. She is a masochist. She likes pain. If she were to pair up with a hard-core sadist, he could really hurt her or maybe kill her if he really has a problem. Therefore, Zubaydah Bābar, promise me you won’t go indulging your fantasy with just anyone. Make sure you know them really well and preferably make sure there is a third person involved to put a stop to it if it starts to get out of hand.”
Zubaydah Bābar just nodded.
“I know it’s dangerous and I only let it go like that once before. I … I probably wouldn’t have let it happen today but I trust you. I know that Durgesh wouldn’t hurt me.” Zubaydah Bābar smiled at me.
I smiled back as we lay Zubaydah Bābar on the bed.
I crawled in beside Zubaydah Bābar and kissed her gently on the lips.
Nishāt Nazli sat on the edge of the bed and I looked at her.
“So Nishāt Nazli, what kind of fantasies do you have? What do you dream about that gets you really hot? If I can help, I will. If it’s too far out for me, then maybe we can get close.”
Nishāt Nazli blushed and looked away.
“I’ve already had most of my fantasies, like we did the other day. You know with you and Zubaydah Bābar, a three way. I also … well we’re living one now, all of us running around the house naked and a Hindu mature man chasing us around and screwing us.” Nishāt Nazli giggled.
“Hindu mature man?” Zubaydah Bābar smiled cunningly, “Have you noticed, here in Ved Nagar, it’s quite normal. Isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Nishāt Nazli looked at Zubaydah Bābar questioningly.
“Hindus here, are enjoying marital relations and live in relationship with modern young Musalmān Beauties more, than anywhere. Haven’t you noticed it? In a recent survey, here at Ved Nagar, 90% mature Hindus are found having marital relations/live in relationships with the ultramodern PhD Musalmān Beauties aged 28 to 35, while the Hindus are mostly aged 50 and above.”
“Long live Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.” I said curtly.
Nishāt Nazli twisted herself to me.
“You mean Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has done it?”
“What do you think? It’s natural?”
“Why not?” Zubaydah Bābar said, “I asked Nasīm Muåāwiyah why she prefers you. She says she wants a man for her, thoroughly experienced, strong, capable, not a boy that is as inexperienced as she herself is.”
“You are repeating only what the young Musalmān Beauties life partners of 90% mature Hindus of Ved Nagar said in that survey.” I said bitterly.
Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli both looked at each other and smiled.
“Don’t you agree with them?” Zubaydah Bābar asked me somewhat uncertainly.
“Well, it’s their life and it’s their decision.” I said noncommittally.
“But you don’t appreciate it, do you?”
“I think there’s another view also expressed about it.”
“Of Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s, your former live in relationship partner’s?”
“She is still the Attorney General here at Ved Nagar.” I said gravely, “Isn’t she?”
“Sure,” Bābarah Åālamgīr interfered entering there and joining us, “our Mayor is the most lenient man in the history of entire humankind. Everyone advised him to take action against the present Attorney General, Jamīlah Aurangzeb. Yet, he denied all such suggestions.”*
The visit had been quite unexpected.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb had forgotten that she had made the appointment.
She had forgotten to cancel it.
She should have canceled it after she’d promised to have dinner with the Mayor.
Now, Jamīlah Aurangzeb was trying to get it over with as quickly and gracefully as possible.
Yet, Jamīlah Aurangzeb didn’t want to hurt the man sitting opposite her.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was a great man, as far as she knew him.
He was one of the most respected men here at Ved Nagar.
Nafīsah Salmān always tried to disgrace him either this way or that, but Durgesh had suddenly granted the request of Sarvochch Brahmarshi, to make Imām Muħammad Ħasan the executive head of Ashvinātam, the residence of the Mayor of Ved Nagar.
Nafīsah Salmān laughed on it ironically.
“Prakash succeeded ultimately in pleasing his younger most successful Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat Bhābhījān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab. Nafīsah Salmān Bhābhījān is not as important for Sarvochch Brahmarshi now, as she was once. I’m surprised at even Durgesh surrendered to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I never imagined it even.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“You must not be as jealous to your own daughter, Ammī, as you are now. Durgesh surrendered to me? Hahaha. Sarvochch Brahmarshi succeeded in pleasing me ultimately? Does he even need it ever?”
At another time, Jamīlah Aurangzeb could have really enjoyed talking with such a man of principles that he even sacrificed his position in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat’s National Council.
They called it that.
In imitation of Ved Nagar’s Council?
But Ved Nagar wasn’t a country.
Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat was.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb couldn’t enjoy however it now.
Not tonight, with the heap of papers on her desk still to be read, with the long tense evening in the Ashvinātam.
Well, she was capable enough not to feel awkward facing her former live in relationship partner.
It would have been normal if only her daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, hadn’t exaggerated it.
She was still making it a great issue.
“It’s normal, Bābarah.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb had tried to explain it to her daughter, “I needed Durgesh once as much as you need him now. You may think it was my obsession to him. You may think I needed extraordinary sex then. Now you are yourself an adult. You can understand it now thoroughly. Why the hell are you exaggerating it?”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was furious.
“I am exaggerating it?”
“Certainly not. Durgesh is exaggerating it.”
“That you are his stepdaughter?” Jamīlah Aurangzeb smiled ironically.
“Am not I?”
“Certainly not. A stepdaughter relationship is a marital relationship, not a relationship that comes out of a live in relationship.”
“I agree with you.” Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled, “live in relationship doesn’t generate any marital relationship because live in relationship itself isn’t a marital relationship. You and Durgesh were never married. So, there isn’t any harm if I replace you myself as Durgesh’s new live in relationship partner.”
“That’s right. That’s the legal status of this relationship here in Ved Nagar.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb said.
Bābarah Åālamgīr beamed at her Ammī.
“That’s the legal opinion of the Attorney General of India?”
“Attorney General of Ved Nagar.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb smiled at her daughter, “Ved Nagar legally now somewhat enjoys the special status like Jammu and Kashmir. It has its own Attorney General. Ved Nagar is too advanced in technology that the rest of India can’t maintain same legal system. The Government of India has to allow Ved Nagar to have its own legal system and its own Attorney General, as Ved Nagar refused to separate itself from India.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr laughed.
“Ved Nagar hates separation ab initio. It wants to bring the entire infinite creations, instead, under one Federal Government with utmost possible autonomy to every member state.”*
Jamīlah Aurangzeb watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
“What do you think of your husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, Attorney General of Ved Nagar?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan asked Jamīlah Aurangzeb casually.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan, scrutinizing him now.
What was he after, actually?
She smiled, casually herself.
“What do I think of my husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr?”
“Sure, that was my question.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled shrewdly.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb immediately thought of the physical Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr.
No doubt, her husband was very impressive among Musalmīn with his bearded face.
Even the persons, who did not hate terrorist Musalmīn to the extent Dr. Ali Sina, his co-authors and his followers did, respected Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr very much.
Yet, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, knew very well, what her husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, was actually.
She smiled ironically.
Perhaps, Imām Muħammad Ħasan was right.
Her husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, was perhaps fooling even Durgesh successfully.
Was it her own mistake?
She shouldn’t have asked him for divorce.*
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr was a blustering, loud mouthed, braying, harsh, and almost as tall as Durgesh, with a rasping, rough, voice.
His eyes were small squinting, and gimlet in a small round head set atop a short thick neck on a brawny, strong, expanse of chest.
It was however, his exterior.
It wasn’t as important as his interior was in her opinion.
Should she confirm Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s doubts about her husband?
“Frankly,” Jamīlah Aurangzeb said, “I think Durgesh and you both know about my husband even more than me. Durgesh respects you more and his faith in you is stronger than even Durgesh’s faith in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Nafīsah Salmān.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“That’s right. Yet you are his wife.”
“So what? Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr isn’t one of the persons who have more faith in his wife/wives than in the persons more reliable to him.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan kept smiling.
“How many wives he has?”
“Three more I think, according to Muslim Personal Law.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr obeys Muslim Personal Law?”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan prudently.
“He has to, if he wants to keep Muslim opinion with him.”
“It isn’t any Islamic country.”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb retorted.
“Ved Nagar is worse in some matters.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t believe Jamīlah Aurangzeb.
“Ved Nagar is worse in some matters?”
“Sure, why are you so surprised?”
“They say Ved Nagar is the best place to live at, for Musalmān Beauties.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled shrewdly.
“They are right. Yet, even the best place to live at, for us Musalmān Beauties, is being hounded by the shrewdest Pseudo Musalmīn now.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb retorted once more.
“You mean you Musalmān Beauties aren’t safe from Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists even here at Ved Nagar?”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
“Ved Nagar has an utmost dangerous policy.”
“And what’s that, if I may ask the Attorney General of Ved Nagar?”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb again watched him scrutinizing.
“Ved Nagar believes in ‘Imām Nārīm Sukr’té dadhāt’ and ‘Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat’.”
“And it’s dangerous?”
“Sure it is.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, said academically, “Ved Nagar is an ideal state established by Durgesh, Prakāsh, Ved Prakāsh and other Vedic Monotheist Hindus…”
“I don’t think so.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, looked at him quite surprised.
“You don’t think so?”
“No. For your kind information, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, the Musalmān Beauties having marital/Sexual/Love/live in relationships with the Hindus are more in numbers than Hindus even that established Ved Nagar. Moreover, I am also one of the persons that are responsible for establishment of Ved Nagar.”*
Jamīlah Aurangzeb was dumbfounded.
She watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan incredulously.
“Youuuuuuuuuuuuuu? You are one of the persons that found Ved Nagar?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched Jamīlah Aurangzeb shrewdly.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“I thought you are a communal Musalmān.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“If you are a communal Musalmān, why the hell you were one of the persons that found Ved Nagar?”
“Either you aren’t a communal Musalmān or you aren’t one of the persons that found Ved Nagar.”*
I looked at the pile of paperwork on my desk and rubbed at my eyes.
It had been a really long day, and only midway through what was bound to be a long week.
It had begun with my friend Aħmad Åbdullāh’s death two days ago, and since then the Island had been a hive of activity getting things prepared.
In a couple of days Aħmad Åbdullāh’s children would arrive on the Island, having just found out that they were triplets given up for adoption, and they’d be meeting here for the very first time.
On top of that, I had a burial to organise for Aħmad Åbdullāh on the Island.
Add in organising supplies and planning for every contingency, and it was no wonder I felt exhausted somewhat.
It was two in the morning and high time I had some stress relief.
I got up from my desk and moved to the door of my office, part of my home on the Island upstairs from the clinic, and headed for the exit, moving quietly down the stairs, as was my habit.
Once outside, I smiled.
I’d always loved the cool breeze that caressed the Island through the night.
I turned left and took the path down to the beach, taking a right between two large bushes on the narrow path the kitchen staff used to bring supplies into the kitchens.
A couple of turns and I was moving around the edge of the building where the Island’s food was prepared and stored, unstaffed at this time of night.
I knew if anyone spotted me s/he’d just assume I was going for my habitual late night snack, but I knew different.
I bypassed the main doors to the kitchen and entered the small courtyard that served the dual purpose of somewhere to store the trash and somewhere the chefs and porters could sneak out to for a smoke.
Casually I glanced around.
Seeing no one, I slipped over to the backdoor of the pastry kitchen and entered a code in the keypad, a different code from the one normally used to open the door.
A quiet bump sounded next to one of the bins and I moved to the corner, reached down and pulled the handle that was now protruding from the flagstoned yard.
A small hatch appeared with a ladder heading down, barely visible in the moonlight.
I quickly slid myself into the narrow passage and closed the hidden hatch above me, seeing the dim lights illuminating the twenty-three rungs below me.
Reaching the bottom, I turned around and punched another code into the wall and the small box beside it opened.
I pressed my hand to the small screen inside the box and the door, beside me, swung open.
I smiled in anticipation.
I had a lot of catching up to do.
I entered the saferoom, or as I thought of it, the ‘Bunker’ where I could retreat to if the Island was ever attacked.
I ignored the open plan living area and kitchen and moved straight to the door on my left, a control room where I could make contact with the outside world if need be, but my focus wasn’t on the emergency facilities.
I moved straight to the console housing the covert CCTV system that Aħmad Åbdullāh had painstakingly built in secret over the last fifteen years.
My friend’s words came back to me, as they always did when he looked at the setup.
“There’s no point in being trapped in here. Much better to see what’s going on outside. Then you retain an advantage the other side doesn’t even know about. Information is power.”
I smiled and moved to the large leather desk chair facing the bank of fifteen screens.
Three large screens, a dozen smaller, all assigned letters from A to O.
The one hundred and thirty eight cameras hidden around the Island were numbered, making the system incredibly simple to operate.
Simply type in the letter for the screen, then the camera number, hit enter and that’s what you saw.
The whole system was set up on a motion-activation principle, immediately discarding data that had nothing happening and that suited my purposes perfectly.
I settled my fingers on the keyboard, typed A68 and hit Enter.
The first of the three large screens flickered into view, a camera situated in the bedroom of Aħmad Åbdullāh’s favourite PA, Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad.
She was one of my favourites too, a hot, toned Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān blonde with a bundle of intelligence and determination.
It wasn’t her intellect that interested me at present though, as I watched the live feed from her vacant bedroom.
My memory provided me hundreds of images of her sleeping in that very bed.
I felt the familiar stirring in my Hindu groin and smiled.
Time to move the recording back.
My fingers found the small dial next to the keyboard, punched in the camera number and then rotated it back.
The simple system allowed me to review all recorded footage from that particular camera and I was viewing it in reverse.
A couple of chambermaids darted around briefly at high speed, and then the footage caught up to Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad undressing, and then sleeping.
The footage continued in reverse at high speed, skipping past hours of her lying still.
She’d been asleep for five hours or so when I saw her leap out of bed, naked, and grab a towel, then disappearing backwards into the bathroom.
I reset the dial, my left hand coming to rest on my belt, and as the footage began to play on the screen, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan unfastened my belt and trousers.
She had joined me in the meantime.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad appeared from the bathroom, her skin flushed from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white towel.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan pulled down my fly and slid her hand in my trousers.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad opened her towel.
I saw her side on as she lifted the towel, her body taught and firm, her breasts pert and round.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan slipped her hand around my Uncut Hindu Cock, slowly stroking me as I watched Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad dry herself.
She moved too quickly for me though, drying herself rapidly then slipping under the sheet on her bed, settling down to go to sleep.
I frowned and punched in B69, bringing up the footage from the en-suite bathroom in Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad’s room.
I punched 69 in next to the dial and rolled it back, seeing her in a high-speed blur in the shower, moving it back to play as soon as the maid appeared who’d cleaned the bathroom earlier.
While Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan stroked me in anticipation, the maid finished her work, the lighting changed and Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad appeared.
Dressed only in a black thong, she walked up to the sink, her gorgeous Musalmān breasts on display.
she brushed her teeth.
I zoomed the camera in on her ever-erect Musalmān breasts.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was stroking my Uncut Hindu Cock as I watched them jiggle back and forth with every motion of her arm.
“Come on, you hot Musalmān Sex goddess,” I muttered. “Get in the damn shower.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled and squeezed my Uncut Hindu Cock eloquently.
The teeth brushing continued for another minute.
Then Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad disappeared off screen.
I zoomed the view back out, seeing her step into the shower cubicle.
The water began immediately and I slowed the footage down as she stepped out the cubicle to remove her thong.
In slow motion, Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad inserted her thumbs in her waistband and bent over, sliding the black material down her hips, thighs and finally to the floor, and with a casual flick of her foot, the thong ended up back in the bedroom.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s grip tightened on my Uncut Hindu Cock.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad always did this before she went in the shower.
I zoomed in a little closer.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad stood up straight and stretched, her arms rising high above her head, her ever-erect Musalmān breasts jutting out.
I groaned, squeezing my lips in anticipation of what came next.
Her right hand slid down over her taught, flat stomach, sliding down over her shaved skin until her middle finger made contact with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clitoris.
“Go on, you fucking Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī hot Musalmān Sex goddess,” I muttered as I watched.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed and took my Uncut Hindu Penis into her extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī mouth.
She started to suck me devotedly.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad’s middle finger rubbed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit up and down a couple of times, then in slow-motion, she moved it down her slit, rubbed up and down once, then plunged her middle finger deep inside her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Fuck that extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, you extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ever hottest sex goddess,” I growled.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan whispered,
“Fuck me, imagine you are fucking the bitch Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad, instead of me.”
“Why the imagination? You are far more beautiful than Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad.”
“Thank you.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan put her palm on my chest and pushed me back gently.
I lay on my back now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan immediately straddled on my standing perpendicular Uncut Hindu Cock.
It disappeared into Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young Cunt, gradually, entirely ultimately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“Happy, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties?”
“Sure, my dear ever young Musalmān lady.” I myself returned her wink lewdly, “What the hell more my Uncut Hindu Cock demands after all?”
“A Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt around it.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed suggestively.
I pulled her on me and kissed vehemently.
We both were nude now entirely.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was a nudist feminist.
To meet her on her own ground, I had to be myself a nudist manist, nothing less.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wanted wildest animal sex.
She was a strict One Man Woman.
It was natural that I had to provide her the wildest animal sex she loved very much.
Well, contrary to the general outlook, I never thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was wrong in her desire however.
Her body needed it.
She was rightfully getting it from me.
It was her fundamental woman right on her man.
It was her fundamental human right on her man.
There wasn’t anything wrong in it.
4. On History
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