I had a crush on Muħammad’s Ammījān , Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah.
I was 24 now, but my lust on her started at a very young age.
She was the most beautiful Saåūdī Årab Musalmān woman of all of them I’ve fucked in my 24 years of life, and still fucking.
I wanted her and I felt a challenge even, of my life, to get her.
I definitely don’t want to rape her, or I don’t want to give her some sleeping pills and get her in sleep.
I wanted this gorgeous Saåūdī Årab Musalmān woman on my bed with her full presence and involvement.
Yes, she was old enough to be my own Ammī.
Age is immaterial in the chase for excellent sex.
Only the beauty is important.
And she was the most beautiful among all of them I’ve fucked in my 24 years of life, till now.
For me, the Muslim Beauties with brains were most desirable.
And, the Sālī Ammījān, Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah, had both.
With all her interest and satisfaction I wanted her to enjoy what I had for her.
The entire Musalmān Beauties, in the globe, were dying to experience it into their most private parts of the body.
I wanted her to know how much I want her, How much love I have for her And how much desire, lust and crush I have on her, how much adulation I have, and I wanted her to know how much of appreciation I have for her.
And that’s because I love her.
I love her as an extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Musalmān woman.
I love her charms and her character.
I am the one who saw her in her dark times and in her shadowy times. In her bad moods And I love every Moment of them.
She was a great Saåūdī Årab Musalmān lady and one of the greatest human beings.
Simply to say, I was bewildered, bewitched and bothered just because of her.
I liked her from her head to toe.
I liked her silk sexy long hair, her round Saåūdī Årab Musalmān face, chubby Saåūdī Årab Musalmān cheeks and her dimpled chin, yeah, a fantasy fairy tale Saåūdī Årab Musalmān lady, and her lovely eyes.
Her big beautiful Saåūdī Årab Musalmān Boobs, buttery or milky in complexion, like a molded butter cake. At the same time with a size of a coconut.
She had the most sexy, dark, and prominently golden hair, as normal Saåūdī Årab Musalmān women have…
I think I don’t have to describe her famous waist, or extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Musalmān buttocks.
Most of the persons are well aware of her Saåūdī Årab Musalmān Boobs which are still firm and standing straight trying to pierce through her jacket and saris.
My most experienced, unique, most wanted among extraordinary beauties, Uncut Hindu Penis, was not standing ever for her, worthlessly.
No young woman, of my own age group, could compete Sālī Ammījān Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah, in beauty or brains.
And her extremely sexy, fleshy, extremely enticing Saåūdī Årab Musalmān Buttocks, were even sexier but these are not simply the reasons.
This adoration and admiration didn’t start overnight…
And I was in a situation that I, even I, imagine, could not openly, or forcefully, approach her.
Am I not famous for my such direct approaches to the deserving beauties, always?
Even then, I could not directly say that I love her, or I need her badly on my bed, because she is my utmost intimate friend, Muħammad’s Ammījān.
He loved me, even for my unique lust for Musalmān Beauties.
I never could betray Muħammad!
I never could betray Muħammad!
He offered me his own real sisters, all of them, only because he wanted to quench my lust for them.
“Durgesh,” Muħammad had hugged me, “I can do anything for you. And I mean it.”
My eyes were filled with unprecedented tears.
“Why are you so crazy for me, Muħammad?”
“Don’t you know? Want me to tell you?”
“No.Shut up, you fool! Never say it. It was your right on me.”
“Even to give the last drop of your blood for me?”
“Muħammad, our blood group is unique. We are rare persons in blood.”
“And if you’ve died yourself?”
“Sālé,” I smiled, “Can you guarantee that I’m immortal?”
“Never do it again even for me.”
“Nonsense, if needed, I’ll do it repeatedly, till I exist. You are one of a few Muslim males, I love and respect more than my life too. And—”I raised my hand to stop him to cut me in the middle, “and I don’t want any argument, idiot!”
“And make my sisters widows, Nauzbillah.” Muħammad slapped me, of course with intense friendly love.
Sālī Ammījān, Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah, was very strict at home.
She always behaved very much orthodox at home.
She never spoke about her career or the media buzz on her.
She seldom took me outside with her to long tours, but that would be a strictly family one.
She never took me to limelight parties of her industry.
She always liked me to grow up as a doctor, sex therapist to be particular, and get settled in a foreign country with an honorable position.
She never let me mixed with her sort of careers or never let her down at home or I never had a chance of getting closer more than what she allowed…
But I knew she loved me very much because I was the only one man left for her…
She hated her own son Muħammad, even more than she hated her most incompetent Musalmān husband, Dr. Imām Sheikħ Åbdullah.
Her husband, as all know, left her in a worst situation.
He took most of her money and wealth along with him.
He drained her bank balance…he corrupted her name in media.
He charged her that she was sleeping with both me and my father, my Pitr’shrī, Vishvās Shakr Mānav.
I knew she was NOT sleeping with me, and never slept with me.
I wanted to sleep with her, but it hadn’t happened ever, even till now.
She never looked her age.
People thought her elder sister of Muħammad, the eldest one.
Muħammad was the eldest son of the family, yet strangely, he called his own Ammī ‘Bājī Ħuzoor’ instead of ‘Ammī Ħuzoor’, as I called her for my relations to her equally beautiful daughters.
Even the fact that she is the real Ammījān of Muħammad, and my ‘wives’, her daughters, made me disappointed because she was very strict and conservative particularly with me.
It made me electrifying whenever I thought of her sexually, even though I was fucking her equally beautiful daughters, since their childhood.
And they were sixteen in numbers.
I was hopelessly in love with a mother of seventeen children.
Wasn’t it obsession?
Was I mad?
The mere fact that it’s a taboo to think like that, ignited all my cells and hormones.
Just those thoughts steamed me.
I felt like having an Uncut Hindu Cocktail whenever I thought of her.
Then, imagine what would be my position when I saw her.
Think of the situations she comes closer to me and touches me, even with mere affection.
At these times, along with the lust and fire I have developed, there is also a sense of pride inside me, being a son in law to her.
Yes, she accepted the relations, though she had fired her own son, Muħammad, for making them possible,
“You are a hell of a son, a hell of a brother, Muħammad. You—you planned it? Allah! What should I do of you?”
She was clenching and unclenching her fists in utter desperation.
“Bājī Ħuzoor!” Muħammad tried to say.
“Shut up. I say shut up. You filthy son, you filthy brother, you yourself planned that your sisters, your real sisters, must have sex with Durgesh? All the sixteen of them?”
“Bājī Ħuzoor! If you please let me explain…”
“Shut up, you swine. How can you explain it? Howwwww can you explain it? Only because I was busy in my industrial problems, because I had to fill the filthy bellies of you dirty seventeen, you took advantage of the helplessness of your own Ammī?”
Even in that rage, Eishān Param Brahm Paramātmā, she was the Saåūdī Årab Musalmān sex goddess of beauty and charms…
I always like to stay with her, and reside along with her, but most of my school education is outside home in India.
I was in India.
She was in Makkah Mukarramah.
I went frequently there, but I couldn’t stay there for ever.
Even if I went back, she might not be in her Makkah Mukarramah house, traveling around for work.
She spent most of the time in Riyadh.
She had two bungalows in Jabalpur.
I don’t know why, but she never let me visit or stay in her Riyadh house.
Given all these conditions, as I grew up, my sexual intentions for her, grew along with me…
My crush on her started from an early age of twelve.
As my little limbs and hormones began to change, my attitude for her also changed.
As a usual teenager I began staring at her, whenever her dress slipped.
Whenever her pallu slipped a bit, or if I could see her sideways.
Her jiggling Saåūdī Årab Musalmān butts, whenever she walked…
Even in India, and whenever I am alone in Mecca, at home; I would watch only movies of hers.
Starting with her first movie to today’s release and TV serials, I have watched many of her movies hundreds of times.
She was one of the most successful global actresses of Hollywood, Bollywood and Lollywood, simultaneously, alongwith running the Durgesh Fātimah group of global industries, successfully.
Fātimah Imam Åbdullah was her third eldest daughter, now herself 26.
Strange, she found me, 18, perect for Fātimah Imam Åbdullah 26.
She loved Fātimah Imam Åbdullah more than even her two elder daughters, elder than Fātimah Imam Åbdullah, Kħadījah Imām Åbdullah 28 andÅāýéshah Imām Åbdullah also 28, her twin.
Muħammad was her youngest son, now 16 only, two years younger than me.
“Durgesh, they all are fools. You’ve to see all this my business, though you are even ten years younger to my damnfool eldest daughter, Kħadījah Imām Åbdullah 28.”
“Yes, Ammī.” I said obediently.
“You are brought up in the excellent way by your brilliant parents that you outexcell even my eldest daughter Kħadījah Imām Åbdullah 28, in brain, knowledge and experences. You are now 18, idiot, show some responsibility, if not to me, to your foolish friend Muħammad, and rather more foolish your sixteen extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Musalmān ‘wives’, the beauties without brains.”
“Ammī Ħuzoor,” I protested somberly, “Please, forgive them.”
“Never! I forgave you. That’s more than enough. Idiot, I also wanted you for all of them. You are the best. But, the way you all eighteen did it, Allah, mérī taubah! Allah, mérī taubah! You eighteen satans!”
“I want some permission, Ammī Ħazrat!”
“Oh, what do you want?”
“Will you be kind enough to inform us, whenever you come to our side of the Palace?”
“You mean Children’s side?” Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah smiled.
“I understand. I’m not a fool.”
“I know, Ammī Ħazrat!”
“Okay, boy, done.” Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah smiled again. But suddenly her eyes widened, “Hey, you don’t live there, always in nude? All you seventeen? You and my sixteen eversexy daughters? Do you?”
“I’m sorry, Ammī, but as you’ve accepted our relations now, me being even ten years younger to your eldest daughter, they are my responsibilities now, not yours.”
“You eversexy Hindu demon,” Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah gritted through her teeth, “Are you all Nudists?”
I replied calmly,
“I’m not. But your daughters are.”
“Allah, mérī taubah! Allah, mérī taubah!” She groaned, “All the sixteen of them?”
“All the sixteen of them.” I confirmed in the same calm voice.
“Stanch nudists. I’m trying my best to bring them to mainstream, but in vain.”
“Durgesh!” Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah was horrified.
“Muħammad knew them ab initio. He knew only I could handle them. He did it because he didn’t have another option. And you are punishing him for it, instead of rewarding?”
Al Saiyadah Al Āmnah was dumb founded.
Sālī, Ammījān!: Chapter 2
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
23. A secret Smile
30. Sālī, Ammījān!
44. Hell, I revolt
64. I live with him
73. Under Open Sky
79. The Extent
98. Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah: Social Service: 6
More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:
13. Eidul Fitr-1
18. Main térī dīvānī
21. Majājī Kħudā: 1
22. Majājī Kħudā: 2
23. Majājī Kħudā:3
24. Majājī Kħudā:4
25. Majājī Kħudā: 5
26. Majājī Kħudā: 6
Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi:
9. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 6
10. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 7
11. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 8
12.R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 9
35. Saamved: Mantr 1
More on Ved from DSM Satyarthi:
4. Casteism is NOT an intgral part of Hinduism:’Samaanee prapaa sah vonnabhaagah’ ”Same drinking same share of food.’