Bahoo Bégum: 8

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Durgesh

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Chapter 8

Durgesh Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid desperately wanted me to kiss her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

And, if not, to be alone so that she could touch it herself.

Yet, the reality was she was helpless to deal with her lust at the Moment, completely at the mercy of the hands of her sexy, but tentative Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, Durgesh, the sixty five years old ever young Hindu miracle.

Eventually I decided I was about to burst if I kept touching her.

I ended the sexual tension as I picked her up and tossed her into the pool before diving in myself.

Both of us knew something was changing, yet both of us were unsure how to deal with the changing Ashvinātam relationship.

That afternoon Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid went shopping and bought a couple new toys for the bedroom, her sexual appetite not being quenched by her tiny vibrator.

A ten inch dildo, an eight inch vibrator with a dozen speeds and a massage wand were all things she looked forward to experimenting with to keep her sexually satiated and also to keep her from walking into my room and raping me.

Although she was pretty confident I would love it.

Each day Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid posed in a new outfit, each day my touches grew more and more intimate, and each day both of us pleasured ourselves with fantasies of crossing the line that was blurring more and more every day.

As much as I was getting more aggressive with my touching, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was getting more seductive in her attire choices and scenarios:

-She lounged in the hot tub wearing a sexy one-piece.

-She sat on a running washing machine barely able to not come while I moved her around, oblivious to the impact of the vibrations of the machine on her ardent Musalmān pussy.

-She posed in all white lingerie: bra, garter, stockings and thong that had me near eruption at first sight, her legs looking sexy as hell in the silk stockings.

I, of course, spent even longer touching her Musalmān buttocks, the feeling of the silk a major turn-on.

-Then she pushed the envelope even further sauntering in late one evening wearing a Cat woman outfit, knowing full well that I loved Batman and particularly the original Cat woman: Julie Newmar, whom I met once on a shoot she was at when I was younger.

This was the day that I, without a doubt, knew Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was enjoying this…enjoying the intimate Moments with me.

Nevertheless, she was teasing me and enjoying it.

It meant she was willing to cross the line?

I was both horny and indecisive and wanting to know if I should push it further.

During these teasing days, I indeed did get more aggressive.

I began to tell her to freeze randomly throughout the day while she was cooking or doing housework.

I started getting bolder as well, building confidence by inferring her outfit choices were a hint of her desire.

I began to slyly move my hands over her chest, never stopping but definitely crossing a line, and even began kissing her arms, neck and ear.

For Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid her neck was her trigger button and her knees gave out every time her neck was touched by my lips.

I, of course, noticed that Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid not only moved every time I kissed her neck, but her whole neck would go red.

This was an advantage I planned to keep working on in my attempt to eventually sleep with Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, her hunger to somehow make this relationship sexual growing with every day, every touch, considered a more blunt approach.

As I was definitely getting more aggressive, but still not going for the sexual jugular, she created a conversation to push the situation further.

Dressed in a ridiculously sexy cheerleader outfit, wearing pigtails, and standing up with her arms in the air with Pom Poms in her hands, she posed in my bedroom, another not so subtle hint of her intentions.

I gasped when I walked into my bedroom and saw Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid in the outfit.

Like all teenage boys, cheerleaders are like kryptonite.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund immediately got hard and I tried to slyly adjust myself, but Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid noticed.*

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid couldn’t help but smile at seeing her impact on me, sensing the intimate end was close.

Durgesh, I almost got fired today,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid lied, her boss now actually very happy with her performance, while remaining stoic.

“Really, why?” I asked, acting surprised, knowing she was very good at the job now, my Uncut Hindu Lund demanding to be released from its fabric prison.

“Well, a few perverts are slyly touching my vagina and making me moan,” She admitted quite boldly, entirely bravely unashamed of herself, “plus, my nipples get hard so easily when touched sexually.”

It was clearly a naughty opportunity.

I could never fail to sense it.

Wasn’t I an Anant Muslimātchod Hindu after all?

I walked in front of her,

“So you need to be able to be molested and not react?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Do you want me to help you with this?” I asked.

“Please,” she agreed, watching as my ever expert masculine Hindu hands went to her inviting Musalmān breasts.

Unlike before when I slowly moved my hands over them, this time I cupped them.

I couldn’t believe I was being allowed to feel her extremely beautiful Musalmān breasts, breasts she had fantasized me about cupping forever. I gave a firm squeeze before moving behind her, slowly putting my hand on her back and guiding her forward to finally bend her over like she had wanted to since day one of this crazy mannequin play time.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, having given so many hints, was hoping I would take those hints and just flip up the skimpy skirt, tug down her thong and bury my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund  in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot ; but instead I slowly moved my hand over her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī firm round Musalmān ass, squeezing it firmly.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid barely held in a moan, the anticipation of more fogging her head.

I pondered just asking her, ‘Do you want me to fuck you?’, but my smart cunning unorthodox demeanor rejected the lustful arrogant male persona that just was me.

Instead, I moved my hand smartly between her legs and to her burning female Musalmān crotch for the first time.

To my pleasant surprise, as my fingers touched her pussy, I felt her female Musalmān wetness.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid couldn’t help it,

she moaned loudly, her growing female Musalmān lust to be with me only enhancing the Ashvinātam pleasure.

Shame briefly cascaded through her at allowing the ever infamous among Musalmīn, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu,  to touch her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, yet her ever aggressive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī female Musalmān lust overpowered the shame.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, instead, wiggled slightly against my finger.

I acknowledged,

“You definitely do need to work on this.”

“I knooooow,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid whispered, wishing I would slide my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund beneath the thin fabric and fuck her.

My finger lingered a few seconds before I suggested,

“I think all this weekend I will test you.”

“Okay,” she agreed, feeling a sudden emptiness as my finger moved away.

“Unfortunately, I am meeting up with Al Fātimah tonight,” I reluctantly said, looking at the clock and realizing I was going to be late, annoyed I had already made plans. “Actually, I’m going to be late.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, more disappointment hitting her.

I promised,

“Trust me, I’ll fuck you this weekend.”

“Promises, promises,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid flirted, standing up and turning around to coyly smile at me.

“Freeze,” I ordered.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid obeyed.

I put my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund on her wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and rubbed it slowly, wanting to get her sexually excited.

Immensely happy, immensely pleasantly surprised, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid struggled not to moan, my confident expression turning her on even more, yet my unwillingness to just take complete control also frustrating her.

I moved away and smiled, “Have a great night, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.”

I kissed her on her quivering Musalmān lips and left her stewing in lust.

As soon as Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid heard the front door close, she fell onto my bed and began frantically rubbing herself, coming in seconds.

Allah, why the hell Durgesh only rubbed his ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund between her labial lips?

Why the hell didn’t he penetrate Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid?

As she lay there completely spent, she wondered what more she had to do to make me know, without a doubt, how much she wanted me.*

Saturday morning, Valentine’s Day, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid dressed in only her underwear and a long man’s button-up shirt as she made breakfast.

I came in and my morning wood stayed awake as I ordered,

“Freeze!”

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid smiled as she froze with a spatula in one hand and a pan in the other.

I moved to her, took the items out of her hands, and hugged her.

I then fondled her breasts and moved in so my lips were just brushing hers.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid wanted to kiss me, to give in to the lust she had been feeling grow more and more each day until it was at the undeniable fever pitch it now was.

I continued getting more brazen, squeezing her breasts, almost kissing her, moving my hand to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

Being confident, I moved my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund inside Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s panties.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid moaned, the Moment of intimacy finally at hand, waiting for my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund to slide inside her.

I teased Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s, now immensely greedy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, with my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund, while staring simultaneously into her beautiful Musalmān eyes looking for an invitation to do more.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was about to burst, the intense intimacy of the touches, the look of Hindu masculine lust in my eyes, being so close to crossing the taboo, but still to go all in.

I decided to go for, and after a couple minutes of teasing her, put my other hand on her Musalmān asscheeks, moved in and gave Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid a deep, you’re-not-just-my-Bahū Bégum, kiss, while continuing to tease her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with the constant rubbing of ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lundhead.

She somehow remained still, although when her tongue parted my lips, I responded with my tongue also.

The Ashvinātam kiss lasted minutes, both of us doing no more, no less, than kissing, my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund never going any further, only teasing her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot rubbing between her constantly quivering welcoming Musalmān labial lips.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid couldn’t believe how natural it felt, the weeks of waiting somehow further enhancing the Moment.

I meanwhile couldn’t believe this was happening.

The whole time I was kissing her, exploring her mouth, I was wondering what I should do next.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid suddenly felt a wave of guilt after a few minutes of kissing me, the ever infamous among Musalmīn, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.

She was committing Ashvinātam Sex.

Feeling overwhelmed, she broke the kiss and stammered,

“T-t-thanks for the practice.”

I nodded,

“Sure thing, Bahū Bégum,”

Nevertheless, I felt as if I had been punched in the gut.

That was the possibility however dealing with the over devotional beautiful Musalmān houseladies first time.

I was sure I had read the signs properly, and even being rejected thus, didn’t make me disillusioned with the whole thing.

We ate in relative silence, and then I boldly prepared to leave for work, my sex therapy job, with my other beautiful Musalmān houseladies patients.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid felt guilt during all her breakfast both at her lustful desire for me, the ever infamous among Musalmīn, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, and for pushing me away seeing in my eyes the hurt her rejection had on me.

Wanting to make it up to me, wanting to give me the ultimate Valentine’s Day present, she suggested, “Durgesh, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, let’s celebrate Valentine’s Day together tonight.”

I could still read my Bahū Bégum anymore.

Before being pushed away today, I would have hoped that this meant crossing the line; what better day than Valentine’s Day to show complete love for someone.

Yet, now I wasn’t so sure; but hoping it was still a possibility, I agreed tentatively,

“Sure.”

All day, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid replayed the past month; she replayed how increasingly intimate it had gotten.

She replayed my hands on her breasts and my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund touching her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

Lastly, she replayed the morning’s kiss.

In the end, the evidence was there and undeniable, without a doubt she wanted me, the ever infamous among Musalmīn, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid saw me as a man, a lover.

She decided she was going to go for the sexual kill, putting herself out there completely.

She was going to make herself completely vulnerable by giving herself to me.

She went shopping and purchased red sexy lingerie: bra, thong and thigh high stockings.

She got into the outfit and lay on my bed waiting for me to get home.

I came home feeling a mixture of excitement and caution. The look in her eyes as I left, gave me hope, yet being pushed away when I kissed her, gave me caution.

Albeit after a few minutes a lot of passion, cautioned me again.

Walking in the house, I closed the door and heard my Bahū Bégum call out,

“I’m in your room, honey.”

Immediately, my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund      hardened as I walked towards my room.

Excited, praying I hadn’t read all the signs wrong, I walked into my room to see Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid on all fours, on my bed, in all red lingerie.

She was staring at me and said, in her frozen state, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I moved to my bed, all my cautions washing through me at once. I said,

“I think today we will really test your ability to stay frozen.”

She replied,

“Do whatever you want to me,” stressing the word ‘whatever’, giving me complete permission to use her magnificent female Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.

I moved to her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, barely covered by the thong that left nothing to the imagination, and squeezed her ass cheeks.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid held in a moan, but couldn’t hold back a yelp when after a few seconds I playfully slapped her ass.

I continued rubbing her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, especially where I had created a slight red mark.

I then moved my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund        down the crack of her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and all the way to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

I said, as I pulled her thin fabric aside, deciding it was time to cross the line, slid my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her already very wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot,

“Let’s see if you have finally mastered staying frozen.”

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned, the anticipated Ashvinātam pleasure was too much to hold in.

“You’re not being a very good statue today, Bahū Bégum,” I scolded, as I quickly pumped my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

“I’m a bad Bahū Bégummmmmmmm,” she moaned, deciding to continue to give every hint of her willingness to commit the ultimate sin.

“I don’t want you to get fired,” I continued, furiously fucking her, hard enough she couldn’t help but move. “You need to be able to stay frozen while getting stimulated.”

“I know,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid moaned again, “but your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund is so hard.” After a Moment, she added, wanting my Uncut Hindu Lund in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, “Maybe I need your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth first, to keep me quiet.”*

I froze myself, the offer of oral sex now was certainly new to this crazy, kinky game.

I asked,

“Is that what my Bahū Bégum wants, her mouth filled?”

“Yes, my darling Hindu father in law husband,” she agreed, “Your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Bahū Bégum wife now, desperately wants to have her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth filled with your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund first completely. You can fill my other Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān holes with it afterwards.” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid winked at me naughtily.

I pulled my Uncut Hindu Lund out and moved in front of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

I picked her up and put her on the floor repositioning her on her knees, her face now directly in front of my Hindu crotch.

Deciding to really enjoy the act, I dressed myself again, put her hand on my zipper and then moved her hand.

That was followed by moving her arms to tug my pants down and then my underwear.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid‘s eyes got big.

My Uncut Hindu Lund was long, hard and thick.

Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth watered and automatically opened up ready to receive my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.

I looked down at her, her extremely beautiful open Musalmān mouth was so inviting, but again I was cautious, nevertheless.

I was 99 percent sure we were both thinking the same thing, but deciding I wanted to be 100 percent correct I asked,

“Does Bahū Bégum mannequin still want her mouth filled?”

“Allah, yes,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid replied.

My hard ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was an inch from her waiting Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

I moved forward and slid my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid‘s panties instantly dampened the Moment her mouth was full.

She wanted to bob on the big hard ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund, but remained frozen as instead I began to fuck her mouth.

I was in Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān heaven.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s greatest fantasy was taking shape, as I slowly moved my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in and out of her mouth.

I knew I was going to last long, the anticipation building for weeks, and after more than a couple of hours of slow moving back and forth I was close to coming.

I pulled out and asked,

“Does Bahū Bégum mannequin swallow?”

“Bahū Bégum mannequin does whatever you ask her to,” she responded, wanting me to understand she was giving herself mind, body and soul to me.

I slid my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund back into her mouth, moving it faster.

After some more strokes, I groaned and declared,

“Here it comes, Bahū Bégummmmmmmm.”

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid hadn’t swallowed cum in years, but like riding a bike one never forgets the skill, and as the cum shot into her mouth she eagerly swallowed my Hindu seed.

I continued slowly moving in and out until every last drop of my Hindu cum had been deposited.

Pulling out, I lifted her back onto the bed, laid her onto her back and decided it was time to worship perfection.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid lay there both vulnerable and excited; with the line now crossed, the guilt and caution dissipated completely.

She lifted my right leg up and moved my foot to her lips.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid sucked on my each Hindu masculine toe individually passionately.

I had rarely my feet pleasured, other than a massage, and as I watched the extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young lady treat her Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā with such tenderness, I fell even more in love with Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

She never was my Bahū Bégum, actually.

Her ever erring Musalmān husband was only one of my so many anti human Pseudo Musalmīn stepsons.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid replicated the attention on the other foot and then lowered my legs back onto my bed.

I then moved to her breasts and asked, like a gentleman considering I had just come in her mouth a few minutes ago, “Can I take your bra off, Bahū Bégum?”

“Please do,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid asked, smiling at my tentativeness still, now that all the lack of clarity was gone.

I pulled her up, expertly unclasped her bra and leaned her back down.

I said,

“I have wanted to see these like this forever.”

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, breaking character, responded,

“Well, forever starts today, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.”

I smiled,

“I love you, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid,” as I leaned down and took her right nipple in between my thumb and forefinger.

“I love you, too, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, Durgesh,” she moaned.

The pleasure of having her nipple squeezed was sending chills through her very Musalmān being.

I spent an eternity going back and forth between her tits, before finally going to her neck and splattering her with my hot Hindu masculine kisses.

“Allah! Oh God, my dear new Hindu husband forever,” she moaned, “you have found my weak spot.”

“You are my weak spot,” I responded.

“You know just what to saaaaay,” she whispered, her body and mind going to mush.

I then slowly slithered my way, my lips never breaking contact, between her breasts, slipping around her belly button and eventually reaching her sweet spot.

“Go ahead, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid purred, “Kiss my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.”

I didn’t need any further encouragement as I leaned forward and began kissing her glistening Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

“Allah! God, yes, Durgesh,” she encouraged, “I’ve been waiting for this for so looong.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised to hear such a blunt declaration.

“Yes, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I always wanted you to be my lover. My duly married Musalmān husband wasn’t wrong completely after all. He knew what I actually wanted to do forever. I never lied to him. I never hid it from him.” she continued, throwing her heart on her sleeve, that is, if she had been wearing any.

“Oh, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid,” I groaned, my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was hard again as I continued kissing  her.

Her taste as perfect as I imagined it would be.

“Do you too want to be my lover, Durgesh?” she asked.

I said, between kisses,

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, I want to be your everything.”

“Oh yes, Durgesh, I want your big ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in me now,” she moaned, desperate to feel my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.

Those were the words she had been dreaming of speaking to me forever.

I moved up, positioned my stiff ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund at her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and watched as it disappeared inside her.

“Oh yessssssss, Durgesh, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, fuck me,” she moaned, as the final line was crossed.

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid,” I groaned, in awe of the reality that my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was now entirely buried in Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

“Now it’s been a long time since I’ve been fucked,” she said, wrapping her legs around me, the ever infamous among Musalmīn, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, “and I need it bad, Durgesh. So please, fuck me hard.”

“As you wish,” I agreed, the words were music to her ears.

I began pumping my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in and out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

“Oh yesssss, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyāaaaaaaaaaaaa,” she moaned, “I love your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot deepest.” And she did…and now that she had crossed the line, she reveled in declaring it, in making it even more taboo by talking it shamelessly.

“And I love fucking you, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid,” I grunted, watching in awe as her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body moved with my each deep Hindu thrust; watching in awe at her beautiful faces of pleasure; listening in awe to the naughty words coming out of my extremely beautiful new Musalmān wife.

Every fantasy she ever had about me had culminated in this Moment, this reality and Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid didn’t want it to ever end.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid rubbed her clit, her long denied orgasm rising rapidly after just a couple of minutes of being fucked.

She continued talking, wanting to hear me talk sexy too, “Oh yes, Durgesh, tell me I’m your Bahū Bégum, your sexy, fuck toy Bahū Bégum.”

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!

She still enjoyed incestuous sex with me!

Nevertheless, she wasn’t alone.

Most of my feminist Musalmān live in relationship partners did enjoy it with me ridiculing thus the male supremacy on womankind under their Everbest Wives Movement.

Saying such words were out of my comfort zone, yet they flowed out of her mouth naturally as I continued fucking her, each hard forward Hindu thrust was now making slapping sounds.

“You like my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid? You like being pounded by me, the ever infamous among Musalmīn, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu?”

“Oh yes, honeyyyyy, more, more,” she begged, frantically rubbing her clit, euphoria imminent.

“Come for me Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, come all over your Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā’s hard ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund,” I continued, wanting to make her come, to get her off.

“Oh yes, yes, I want to be your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slut, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, yes, yes, your Bahū Bégum slut,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid babbled, so close.

“Come now, Bahū Bégum, come like the Bahū Bégum slut you are, my Bahū Bégum slut,” I demanded, sensing she needed to be talked dirty incestuous to so she could reach orgasm.

“Yessssss, you Bahū Bégumchod Hinduuuuuuuuuuuuu,” she screamed as the eruption finally hit her, creating tremors and pulsations that hit every inch of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.

I continued fucking her, watching her scream and orgasm which somehow made her even more beautiful and made my Hindu balls begin to boil for a second time.

“Oh yes, Durgesh,” she moaned, staring into my eyes and sensing I was close too. “Fill your Bahū Bégum wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot  with your Hindu cum my Hindu father in law husband forever, I want to feel you spray your Hindu seed deepest in me.”

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God, my Bahū Bégum wife,” I whispered, loving every filthy word out of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

“You want to come in your Bahū Bégum wife,” she asked coyly before giving a second option, “Or would you rather come all over your Bahū Bégum’s face?”

I had always hated to do such an inhuman useless naughty act, another fantasy of her and I grunted, taking control again, as I pulled out, got off the bed and ordered,

“Get on your knees, my Musalmān slut.”

She quickly obeyed, loving a man who knew what she wanted, and opened her mouth just in time to have me shove it in.

I roughly fucked her face, dying to cum, and loving the loud slobbering sounds coming from Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

Desperately close, I pulled out, pushed it into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot again deepest, and began furiously pumping my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in out and in.

“Oh yes, you sexy beautiful Musalmān houseladies fucking Hindu stud, come all over into your Bahū Bégum wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot deepest,” she begged, her incestuous dirty talk was the last straw to my orgasm.

My Hindu cum rocketed out and filled her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot deepest  hitting her vaginal inside everywhere.

“That’s it my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, fill your Bahū Bégum wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot completely,” she purred, as one last stream hit her, forgetting just how warm my Hindu cum was when it splattered into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot deepest everywhere.

“So good,” I groaned, looking down at Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face was immensely proud of me.*

It was then I realized why she was so incestuous after all.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid wasn’t actually enjoying incest with me.

She was actually punishing her ever erring Musalmān husband that left her charging she was my live in relationship partner already.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid wasn’t incestuous actually as she claimed.

She was avenging her Musalmān husband.

They all were.

They were not my Bahū Bégum wives actually as they claimed to be.

They were avenging thus their Musalmān husbands they reviled infinitely.

That’s why they were my Bahū Bégum wives actually.

Not actually because they loved incest.

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!

She purred,

“Agreed,”

She scooped up some of my Hindu cum off her Musalmān Choot and put it in her mouth, while never breaking eye contact with her new sixty five years old handsome Hindu husband .

“I can’t believe we did it,” I said, the reality of our act finally hitting me now that I was thinking with the head on top of my neck.

“I can’t believe we waited this long,” she countered, taking my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund back in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

She had no regrets even after the act was done.

She loved me and this was the most intimate way to show it.

“You’re insatiable,” I moaned, as she deep throated my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.

“You’re ever young and have lots of your Hindu masculine stamina,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid pointed out, taking my Uncut Hindu Lund out of her mouth and standing up.

Looking into my eyes, she asked,

“You don’t regret it, do you?”

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! God, noooooooooo, Never! Certainly not! We are Hindu husband and Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife now, forever!” I said, “I am just still in awe of it all.”

“Good, because your new Bahū Bégum wife expects this to be a regular thing,” she declared, “in fact, I hope you plan to sleep in my bed from tonight.”

“Sure, my new Bahū Bégum wife, I plan to sleep in our bed every night,” I corrected, stressing the word ‘our’.

“Well, you are the man of the house,” she smiled.

“I love you, Bahū Bégum,” I said gently.

“I love you too, my Hindu father in law husband,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid replied.

We both looked into each other’s eyes and saw infinity.

Tonight was the beginning of our infinity.

We both leaned forward and kissed each other knowing that we were no longer just Hindu father in law and Musalmān Bahū Bégum.

we were actually Hindu father in law husband and Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Bahū Bégum wife.

Chapter 9

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Similar Stories from Durgesh

1. Bahoo Begum

2. The Punishment to my Enemy:4,5,6,7 Ammījān and her son: Durgesh Suraiyā Jamāl

3. The Audacity 4: We need to talk

4. The Audacity 5,16,17,18

5. Ved Nagar 33, 34, 35

6. The Everbest Wives: 37, 39
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


Bahoo Bégum: 7

Bahoo Bégum

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 7

Durgesh Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid looked in the mirror and sighed.

Although only forty-one and still in amazing shape, she couldn’t see even the first wrinkles of aging.

Nevertheless, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was so finicky for her female Musalmān beauty that watching an infomercial on television about an anti-aging crème, she ordered it, desperate to keep the vibrant youthful look that had always kept her employable.

A professional model since her teen years, she had been told her whole life how beautiful she was, but age was not her friend and she hadn’t liked to feel not beautiful of late.

Since hitting forty, the kryptonite age for models, the gigs had slowed down considerably and although she had always been financially secure for herself, she was determined to get a good trust fund for future and thus needed to keep working.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid and I were travelling throughout Europe.

We were very close.

Nonsense!

Nothing sexual even then.

It was entirely a platonic relationship.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was my stepdaughter in law, and stepdaughter in law only, nothing else.

We had always had each other only.

Her deadbeat husband, and my absentee stepson, walked out before their daughter was born.

He charged her she was living in relationship with me already.

Utter nonsense!

He was more devoted to Pseudo Islam than he was even attached to his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.

Although Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was beautiful, she had not been in a relationship in years, having been betrayed over and over by men who wanted to bed with ‘a model’ and wake up with her.

Instead, the only man she cared about was I.

Just when things were beginning to look grim, she got a job at an upscale store that used living mannequins.

They were very insistent on preserving the illusion and mannequins moving or flinching or reacting to customers is a big no-no.

Having modelled and posed for years, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid assumed that the job wouldn’t be overly difficult, having worked with some very demanding and intense photographers.

Yet, over the first week, she really struggled to not react slightly when customers moved close to her, made faces and especially when men made lewd comments toward her.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was still a very beautiful woman, with firm long legs, blonde hair, blue eyes, a tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and big breasts that were still firm and amazing looking even without the right push-up bra, and thus was admired by boys and men.

The manager threatened her to either do it completely right or he would have to replace her.

Having been replaced by younger models for many jobs in the past couple of years, she was determined to keep the job and prove him wrong.

That night, during dinner, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid explained her problem to me.

I suggested,

“You should practice at home.”

“That’s a great idea,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid nodded.

I had spent my whole life around beautiful models.

I still saw Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid as the most beautiful woman in the world.

I explained,

“I never liked your modeling, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid. You know it. Nevertheless, you keep doing it. Well, understand something cold and hard if you are still adamant to keep modeling.  The key is to get used to being touched or ogled.”

“I know,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid agreed, “I usually don’t care what anyone says to me, or if some creepy guy is checking me out, but I feel so helpless when I’m not allowed to move. I feel completely vulnerable.”

“Let’s finish eating and then I’ll help you practice,” I offered.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid liked the idea of me touching Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

“Sure, what have I got to lose?” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid agreed.

“Your job,” I quipped, loving to tease Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

Durgesh,” she laughed.

I was always able to cheer her up.

Once dinner was done, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid posed in a similar position as she did at work, dressed in a 1950’s poodle skirt, as part of that week’s ‘decades’ theme.

I moved her arms and legs a bit, poked her on the side and made funny faces at her. She struggled a bit, especially when she was poked in the side, but overall did better.

That night, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid masturbated while thinking of fucking me like she usually did, but this time the scenario changed as she imagined me moving her into positions in which Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid wanted me to fuck her.

The next day Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid did better at work and thus began a daily routine of mannequin practice.*

Every night we spent about fifteen minutes practicing, each day I spending a little longer touching Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, even tickling her, during which Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid really struggled with maintaining her composure.

Each evening, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid masturbated herself with taboo fantasies of incest imagining making love to me.

The following week Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid came home Sunday with her outfit for Monday.

She walked in front of the television and froze wearing a tennis outfit with a very short skirt while holding a tennis racket.

My everlastingly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate gifted, matchless, extreme noticeable Uncut Hindu Lund  instantly hardened at the sight of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid in such a sexy outfit.

I stood up and pulled the racket out of her hands.

The television show was no longer interesting.

Although a struggle, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid stayed in position.

I treated her like a live Barbie doll moving her head, arms, and legs, being more aggressive than I had been in the past.

Then, getting slightly more adventurous, I ran my hands down her perfectly toned legs.

Although I loved everything about her: her blonde hair, exotic green eyes, dazzling smile, great Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, perky breasts and overall great personality, it was her legs with her prominent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks, whether bare and tanned or in any style of hosiery, thigh highs, pantyhose, fishnets, garter and stocking, that really turned me on.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid felt a chill go up her spine and a tingle down below at the intimate touch of mine, but credited it to the incredible lack of intimate contact in recent years.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid didn’t want this to end, but also didn’t want to seem like a pervert, and thus ended the sly touching of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

We continued practicing every night and Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid began to both look forward to her playtime with me and to get sexually excited by my Hindu masculine touch.

At first she found the practice time a fun activity to do with me, something out of the ordinary and different.

Yet as time progressed, it began to be strangely erotic in a taboo but innocent way.

She enjoyed my strong, firm Hindu masculine hands on her beautiful mature young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, a sudden reminder of the intimacy she had long forgotten existed.

She began to make it a game by every night posing when I came home from Presidential Office of HVSI, always in a different outfit, the one she was to wear the next day at work.

One day she dressed in camping gear, another day in tight running shorts, another time in a beautiful cocktail dress, another day as a maid.

Each day I tested Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, each day I got rock hard and each day my touches became just slightly more intimate, always trying to push the boundary just slightly, wondering how far Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid would really let me go.

Never touching her ever erect proud Musalmān breasts or her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, but each day moving closer and closer to the forbidden area.

As much as I was tempted, I was the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu after all.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was getting more and more confused.

Why did she like my Hindu masculine touch so much?

Why did she look forward to these imitate Moments?

Why was she craving for my touch?

Why was she having dreams that ended up with her having sex with me? She continued to blame it on her lengthy dry spell, but every day the temptation seemed to grow inside her more and more.

‘Is incest really such a bad thing?’ she pondered to herself after the most recent touching where my fingers were teasingly close to her damp Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

Every night without fail, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid masturbated imagining me making love to her, the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu among Musalmīn.

Even though Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid still didn’t think there was a chance of anything more than the playful touching sessions… Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was beginning to wonder if the possibility did exist.

Meanwhile, as the days went on, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid could no longer deny it.

The past few days my masculine Hindu touch had been undeniably turning her on, making her wet and desperate for more.

My strong Hindu  hands gently caressing her shoulders, slithering ever so slowly down her legs and gliding teasingly close to her long neglected private parts was driving her mad with insatiable desire, creating a fire that she couldn’t extinguish no matter how hard she tried with moral logic and Islamic responsibility.

The last two days she had pleasured herself in her room with her small vibrator wishing it was bigger and more powerful, and each time as she reached climax my ever excellent utmost handsome masculine Hindu face inexplicably popped into her head.

She had considered stopping the unique Muslimāt Hindu bonding experience knowing it was causing these taboo dreams, fantasies and feelings, but it really had helped with her job and she didn’t merely enjoy the time with me, it was her daily highlight.

So instead of quitting, like an ardent Musalmān houselady should do, she began to pose in sexier outfits, in hotter positions and scenarios, deciding to create fantasies for both of us…not sure she was willing to cross the line, but enjoying the attention she was getting from a man, albeit the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.

On Saturday, she suggested we go for a swim in the backyard pool.

I never thought it was anything out of the ordinary as we often spent the weekend lounging in and around the pool.

Even though it was late January, in San Diego every day was a great day for a swim.

When I came out of the house, I saw Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid standing there, lotion in her hand, in a beautiful two piece bikini that didn’t remotely hide her excellent Musalmān breasts and really showcased her legs.

I instantly had a tent in my trunks, one I couldn’t hide.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid saw the impact of her pose and outfit on me and broke into a wicked cunning immensely proud smile, before quickly returning to her stoic position in anticipation of my Hindu masculine hands on her.

I walked over to her and for the first time since doing this, talked during the playtime.

“I think you need to be protected from the sun.” I laughed at the accidental pun, witticism, joke.

I took the lotion out of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s hands, just as Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid had hoped I would.

I poured the lotion liberally into my hands and slowly coated Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s body from head to toe.

I started with the back of her neck, shoulders and arms.

My touch was purposefully sly and gentle, wanting to enjoy every second of it, yet also hoping somehow, someway through my touch Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid would see me not as the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, but as a man.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid loved how soft and tender my touch was.

Part of her wanted to just give in to her growing desires and kiss me on my lips, yet knowing that Ashvinātam sex was wrong in Musalmīn, and she was an ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān woman, she resisted even as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot  burned for my Hindu masculine attention.

I moved my hands in the beautiful crevice between Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s breasts, my fingers dangerously close to the breasts.

The temptation to go further was almost unbearable, but my respect for her Swayamvar right, overrode my own temptation, instead testing the boundaries by moving teasingly close to her taboo parts.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid couldn’t think straight.

She wanted me to cup her breasts, kiss on her erect Musalmān tits, give her the long resisted pleasure she barely remembered.

I could see Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s erect nipples through the thin bikini fabric and felt confident my touch was turning her on as much as it was me.

Yet, not wanting to linger too long in one spot, I continued moving lower, spreading on her toned belly, hips and back.

Disappointment rushed through Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid as I moved away from her breasts, even though she did love the feel of my hands all over her, especially her burning Musalmān buttocks.

I knelt in front of her.

Now, my face was directly in front of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

I wondered if she was shaved…was she wet…was I really having the impact on her that I thought I was?

Again as Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid looked at me below her, she was tempted to grab my head and pull me into her wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

She knew I stared at her often, assumed it was likely a fantasy of hers, having read online about many theories that all Hindus want to fuck the beautiful Musalmān houseladies.

But would I actually be willing to be more than a stepfather in law?

Would a gentleman like me fuck her hard like she wanted it?

In reality, it was even more than obvious to her, I was the only person she loved; the only one she could truly trust…why not do the only thing left that would show me she loved me unconditionally.

I was her everything and the idea that I could be more than just a stepfather in law…I could also be a lover was both appealing and, yet, terrifying.

I felt my mouth water, the idea of tugging the skimpy bikini down and tasting her spinning in my head.

I had to keep reminding myself she was my Bahū Bégum, even though, of course, I knew she was ravenous for me.

However, that was what made the temptation even greater.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid always having been my greatest stroke responsibility for my stepson left her charging she was living in relationship with me already.

Every girl I dated nowadays, I compared to Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

And none, no matter how pretty, how sexy, could remotely live up to the Musalmān woman that already loved me… Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

After applying lotion to her thighs, my fingers so close to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, I slowly, like a snail, moved down her legs, generously adding lotion to every inch of her toned Musalmān legs all the way to her perfectly manicured feet.

Done, I stood up and began moving her in a few different positions.

I wanted to just bend her over, wanted to see her firm Musalmān ass in that position, but I resisted the temptation, reluctantly keeping it appropriate even as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund      begged for major inappropriateness.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was on fire.

Chapter 8

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