1: Of my Musalmān friends
Durgesh Al Āmnah Al Saåīd
As the ‘old man’ watched the stock report, he couldn’t hear the AT&T closing figure as Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I moaned in mutual orgasm.
For the 100th time, yes, we kept track, my manly Uncut Hindu Lund had spewed a tidal wave of my Hindu cum into her deepest fertile recesses.
My potent brew was all baby-making seed–that cum was almost 100% pure sperm.
You know–the stuff that was filling up the local maternity wards with unexpected bundles of joy.
Other times were even wilder.
At dinner, he would sit at one end of the table.
At the other end, my chair was turned away from him.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd sat in my lap and looked at him, her table setting laid out before her as if a normal meal.
However, she was sitting in my lap, my Uncut Hindu Lund lodged deeply inside of her.
I for my part looked away from him, a nice side benefit, with a TV table holding my dinner ware.
Every few minutes Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I would stop eating or talking and look into each other’s eyes.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would go up and down upon me as we kissed.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s head would bend as she looked to the ceiling.
She would give a cry of orgasmic ecstasy that always shocked and embarrassed him.
Then she’d settle down upon my lap.
I would grab her and clutch her to me just as my Uncut Hindu Lund would erupt.
Long plumes of pale baby batter would cascade out of my Uncut Hindu Lundhead, the tiny slit expanded to the size of a quarter.
As he watched in goggle-eyed amazement, we would kiss quietly for minutes at a time.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would whisper words of encouragement and devotion.
Her fertile Musalmān womb was always sloshing, filled up with a potent formula of my sperm-laden Hindu semen.
Normally after a particularly good ‘dining table treat’, she’d be literally sore as her Musalmān womb was horribly distended with an excess of my Hindu liquid love.
On those nights, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would climb off of my lengthy Uncut Hindu Lund, the Moment where it exited her making a slurping sound and soft plop, drip, trickle, ooze, drip drip…
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would stand next to me and bend down to kiss my lips.
She always whispered in my ear, thanking me for my Hindu sperm.
I’d look at Al Āmnah Al Saåīd before she walked away.
I enjoyed the thought that he saw his legally married wife with my ‘excessive Hindu seed delivery’ flowing down both bikini-waxed smooth Musalmān thighs.
One time he had to ask her a question before she cleaned herself up.
Eīshān, God, it was so sexy, I was so proud: a huge glob of my sperm-laden Hindu cum had escaped her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and now was drooling down a satiny Musalmān thigh.
She had become the ultimate love machine…Best of all, it was inescapable: as I bred her, I was claiming her as my own, for now and forever.
He could only watch meekly as the husband/lover switch occurred.
Another time, we again were trying to do it with her sitting in my lap.
Well, it just wasn’t good enough. I asked him if we could just do it there and then, right on the dining room table.
I expected an indignant no, but so hot for that trust money was he that he pushed the dinner service onto the floor with a crash.
He gestured for me to use that table…for breeding…his extremely beautiful ever faithful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
I put my gorgeous, blonde haired, blue eyed, little love bunny Musalmān beloved onto our old dining room table.
There she lay, wearing only a smile.
As he sank back into his chair to watch, I walked up to the table, watching Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s shapely tanned legs open wide for her Hindu lover.
I could easily have just inserted myself in Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and ‘gotten her done…’
I stopped short of inserting my babymaker into the lips of Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s dripping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, though they beckoned to me like the beautiful petals of a flower.
Well, this one time I wanted him to openly declare my masculine superiority.
“I am going on strike as of right now. Unless and until you do as I say, there will be no sperm flowing into Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s dripping snatch. That trust fund will just have to be remitted to the state treasury, I guess.”
Well, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s old man moaned like he had been gored by a bull’s horns.
He actually ran up to me, got on his knees, hands pleading.
“You win, you WIN!! I will do your bidding. I acknowledge the fact that YOU are the alpha male, the best man here…the ONLY real man in the house. Only YOU can make the babies…only you deserve to sleep in the master bedroom with my wife. I will now insert your magnificent, superior Uncut Hindu Lund into her fertile extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.”
Grabbing a linen napkin off the table, he inserted my huge Hindu phallus into Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot–even now oozing with excitement.
There was an audible ‘squish’ as it slid in the tight Musalmān warmth.
Both Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I moaned in pleasure as our mating devices meshed and proceeded to do their thing.
Still, the best part was that I had made him join us up.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I had a good laugh about his total humiliation; we stopped laughing and kissed just before we came together.
I had made him and Al Āmnah Al Saåīd realize I was the superior male when he was matched against me.
Twenty million or no twenty million, he recoiled a bit when he could actually see us in action.
No longer hidden by the table, he could see the raw power of my hips drive into his wife, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd.
Then, after our simultaneous orgasm and passionate kiss, he cringed.
He could clearly hear the ‘rain drops’ as the copious outpouring leaking from his sexy wife, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s my Hindu seed-filled Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot splattered on the hard wood floor, making several large, milky white puddles.
“I express my gratitude that you are willing to spill your Hindu seed within her Musalmān vaginal walls in order to pursue our selfish needs. I freely admit that my Musalmān seed is worthless now, unwanted and without a fertile home. While my family jewels hang limply, empty and unloved, your incredible testes swell with male Hindu power, bursting with seed, vibrant and throbbing with virility.
“Whereas my balls recede inside of me out of impotence and neglect, your balls, heavy with your Hindu seed like a pair of Rome apples, recede inside of you in order to transmit their awful Hindu power.”
He droned on, acting oblivious to the incredible scene before him of his legally wed Musalmān wife being serviced by her well-endowed Hindu guest.
It was so naughty to do it right in front of him that we started getting more and more excited…
He continued to say:
“Nothing pleases me more than to see my extremely beautiful ever faithful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife embrace and adore you, rather than me, expressing words of love and devotion. The fact that this always, ALWAYS, ends up with mind-blowing coitus is a bonus. The thought that your magnificent Hindu fuck tool is bathing her Musalmān cervix in potent Hindu seed, filling her fertile Musalmān womb with your squiggling spermatozoa, all of them striving for that treasured ovum…well, that’s fantastic.
“If just one of those millions gains entry and causes it to affix itself…we’re talking babytime and the BIG payoff. YOU GO, GUY!!”
It’s only an amusing footnote to inject here: unknown to him, or me or anyone, right after the first act of love between myself and my plump breasted/shapely legged Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, five of my ‘little guys’ had wiggled their way into her holy ovum, whereupon that blessed fertilized object had attached itself to her inner walls.
That’s right; before 99% of the fun and games and utter degradation I inflicted upon him, the deed was already done: Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was pregnant.
Thankfully, he was so inured to relying on doctors, as opposed to the more modern home testing, that he never made us do a ‘home pregnancy test’.
At his encouragement, yea insistence, we kept fucking nonstop.
A visible cream-pie drooled out of Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s warm, tight, welcoming snatch constantly now.
For those keeping score, the will document stated that Al Āmnah Al Saåīd had to be shown to be pregnant by a certain date, as the will did not wish to leave it open-ended and eternal.
So, the day before she was to be tested at the lab for the law firm’s review, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I were kept in bed 24/7 by a crazed, greedy Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd.
We bred like rabbits nonstop.
Whenever we tired, he’d pour energy drinks into us.
By the end of that day, my bodyweight must have been 50% Red Bull.
We set a modern record, with ten complete acts of love that climactic Sunday.
After the last act of love, at 4 am, I lay gasping on my back, my Uncut Hindu Lund red from overuse.
A streamer of cum ran from the tiny slit in my Uncut Hindu Lundhead to Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s dripping snatch.
Her glistening thighs were a sticky, gooey mess.
Excess cum escaped her unprotected Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and drooled out in a constant waterfall in slow motion.
A sizable ocean of escaped cum now formed between her legs on the bed.
Four, count them, four, rivers of white now wound their way from this ocean to the edges of the bed, with dripping waterfalls of manly goo descending into tiny lakes of Hindu mancream on the hardwood floor.
Well, everything after that was a mere anti-climax.
We three went to the clinic and got the happy test results.
We zoomed to the law firm, who now were honor-bound to retain the trust proceeds until the birth and DNA testing completed the trust requirements.
It goes without saying that the initial proof of pregnancy would be followed nine months later by the actual DNA test on the newborn baby.
So we’d only passed hurdle number one.
As his beautiful wife’s belly expanded, the final die was cast.
Whereas he got more and more hostile to her and her approaching ‘disloyal’ baby birthing, I was more and more attentive and loving.
I now eschewed all other matters of the heart, i.e. pounding the local Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, from here to maternity.
It was all for Al Āmnah Al Saåīd now.
To his fury, our lovemaking actually intensified after the ‘deed was done’ and Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was officially pregnant.
We constantly held hands, expressed love and devotion, and kissed at any and all times.
Whenever Al Āmnah Al Saåīd entered a room at home, I would rush up to her and bend down, planting kisses upon her royal tummy and the baby within.
An ultrasound later confirmed: Al Āmnah Al Saåīd didn’t have merely one but indeed five perfect babies within.
All of the fetuses were male.
The happy day approached.
By then, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ could almost taste that $20 million.
He was appalled that Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I were still having sex well into the last month.
In fact, we were having a passionate love session when her water broke.
As I pulled away in concern, she pulled me back and kissed me solidly.
Moments from giving birth and Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was still wanting me to seed her.
I kissed her and told her we had to go now…
We then rushed to the OR where the five guys emerged perfect little gentlemen.
Coldly and cruelly, the ‘old man’ chose to stay at home, only seeing us later in the week at the lawyer’s office.
I on the other hand stood next to Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, holding her hand throughout the entire ordeal in the OR.
I bent down and kissed her lips, her eyes all teary.
She whispered to me that if the OR delivery staff weren’t there right then, she’d love to make love…only minutes after the last baby emerged.
At the estate’s attorney’s office, we finally arrived with the DNA results and the birth certificates.
It was only then and there that the withered old coot of Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd got his final comeuppance.
He had never deigned to actually read the trust instrument, preferring instead to allow the law firm to give him only the snippets they felt necessary.
I on the other hand read it cover to back.
As his attorney presumed he was the daddy-in-chief, no one had bothered to read on.
Deep within a footnote in fine print, a rider stated that if the mother of this heir named the child properly and could prove the baby was from a family member NOT being her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd,, then she could retain the trust proceeds.
The husband, discarded and disgraced as a cuckold, would become only a disreputable reject and no longer party to this proceeding.
You can only imagine the fireworks that erupted when Al Āmnah Al Saåīd showed the DNA results, including not only the partial link between the babies and the ‘old man’ but the 100% statistical DNA match to myself.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd then referred Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd to that little read rider, telling sorry about that.
The attorney shook his grey-haired head, letting Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ know that it was lights out for him.
Seething, he left.
Now, as Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I held hands tightly, the elderly attorney joked that they did divorce law too.
The senior partner attorney took all of this in stride without making any comments; I guess he truly had seen and done it all…
Finally, he gave Al Āmnah Al Saåīd a certified check for $19,483,352. Along with the check was an itemized accounting of their fees for $516,648. Essentially, they got a half mill for looking at two lab tests and printing out a check.
In their defense, it was a nice big check.
We were so ‘concerned’ about their overbilling that we left their statement on the desk and rushed to the bank.
When the funds were secured, we called to thank the firm.
An answering service took the call; the firm had one of their ‘settlement’ parties at the local Hyatt.
Well, that was cool; we still had $19.5million to tide us over.
Later, I did complain, telling them I expected Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s divorce to be ‘reasonable’.
Soon Al Āmnah Al Saåīd got a divorce, with a return to her maiden name.
They billed us for $34, the cost of photocopies and a FedEx delivery. That was cool…
We moved to Oahu and bought that palatial estate of the actor that starred on the original ‘Hawaii-Five-O’.
Our five little guys developed into hellacious surf bums, as did the two others to follow.
Two more Hindu sons filled out the family portrait.
When the five oldest turned 18, we told them the truth about their parents.
I suspected they’d be horrified, angry, or appalled.
Instead, all five of their mouths were agape in wonder.
Then, as if we were in a cheap Hollywood movie, their comments were: “Wow”, “Far-out”, “Fucking hot, Hindu man”, and “I’m cool with it”.
I told them not to tell the younger siblings, knowing that they would anyway.
With that psychic burden off of us, this 64 year old Hindu husband and his 56 year old Musalmān wife, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, snuck out of our family estate home at 3am.
With a full moon shimmering in the gentle waters of the warm Pacific, we made love on our private beach, and then lay cuddling together, in the nude, for the rest of the night.
It was a happy home and a happy ending to a long and winding road.
We had a staff of countless lady robots, gents robots and mechanical robots to oversee the grounds, the children, and our investments.
One person was unpaid but was retained in order to give him a place to live.
He served as a ‘major domo’ or master domestic servant.
That’s right, it was Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd.
He came to us contritely after our move, saying he had nowhere else to go.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd said he could stay, but only with my approval.
I said it was cool and he was now restored to our home, albeit as his ‘wife’ Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, was adamant, in the servant’s quarters in the little home set off near the abandoned pineapple fields.
A beautiful ending; Al Āmnah Al Saåīd never expected to have a palatial mansion, let alone one on the most treasured real estate in the world.
Everything arose from that trust instrument-the Will and the crazy things that her greedy ‘old man’ did because of it.
Now we had enough to even look back.
I convinced my Al Āmnah Al Saåīd to loosen the purse strings.
Thinking of 786 wonderful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ladies who had gotten swollen bellies from me, I hit the internet.
From Twitter, Facebook, Google, the old White Pages, and even a detective agency, I found that some of them were doing fine, their husbands or boyfriends accepting the cover story for the baby and providing for the infants.
Some others weren’t doing well, so Al Āmnah Al Saåīd allowed me to write a very generous check to each of them.
With that act, I had ‘crossed all the T’s and dotted all the I’s’.
It was great to have the dough to buy everything you wanted and to ‘square things’ with anyone you ever cared for.
How to explain it:
I just called it ‘A Triumph of Will’.
And I mean will power now, not the will that made all of it possible legally.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
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