They were halfway through a two-day drive when they had their excellent adventure.
It was all Al Ůbaydah Al Shams’s doing, really.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad had expressed to her his general interest in voyeurism, and his specific desire to see her in action with me.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams knew from previous discussions how much it excited Al Taymūr Al Muħammad to watch her flirt with me.
But Al Ůbaydah Al Shams had never shown any inclination to act on this knowledge before.
It was just their little secret, fodder for their fantasy play and the occasional inside joke.
So Al Taymūr Al Muħammad really didn’t see it coming.
They had pulled off the highway and into a motel on the outskirts of a small city along their route.
It had been a full day’s worth of driving in the heat and traffic of midsummer.
The plan was just to get some rest and get back on the road early the next day, but since they had made better time than they had expected that day it was only late afternoon when they checked in and hit their room.
“Maybe we should get a drink after dinner,” Al Ůbaydah Al Shams suggested.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad gave a non-committal response.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad was tired after driving all day but Al Ůbaydah Al Shams pressed him a bit, saying it would be better than channel-surfing until they dozed off, and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad conceded that she was probably right.
They decided to take a quick shower and get going.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams was a naturally good-looking woman — exceptionally so, although Al Taymūr Al Muħammad admit that Al Taymūr Al Muħammad was biased — and Al Ůbaydah Al Shams had an easy sense of style that allowed her to look good in many things.
She could get ready quickly, toss something on, and make it terrific.
So she was soon ready to roll and looking great, as usual.
But Al Taymūr Al Muħammad was a little surprised, and pleased!, to see that Al Ůbaydah Al Shams had chosen a rather revealing bright-print halter top and a fairly short mini-skirt.
She was braless and with her beautiful Musalmān breasts she always looked especially terrific whenever she went without.
“Wow! You planning on showing off for anyone in particular tonight?” Al Taymūr Al Muħammad asked.
“Just for you, honey,” she said, and they both shared a gentle laugh at her reference to his particular interest.
They had gotten sound advice from the front desk clerk.
Dinner was good, and the hotel bar down the road had a pretty capable band, so it was filling up pretty quickly as the evening got underway.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad got settled into two seats at the bar and shortly after their drinks arrived Al Taymūr Al Muħammad pushed back and excused hisself to hit the facilities.
“Don’t be too long,” she said.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad shot her a look of sudden interest.
“Think you could behave yourself?”
Her response was a playful:
“I’ll try …” and they shared a parting grin.
It actually did take Al Taymūr Al Muħammad a little while to locate the restrooms and then Al Taymūr Al Muħammad got detained trying to get past the television that was showing a ballgame.
As Al Taymūr Al Muħammad finally made his way back Al Taymūr Al Muħammad noticed that Al Ůbaydah Al Shams was engaged in conversation with me who had taken the open seat next to her.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad just paused to watch the scene.
She was animated and seemed to be interested in what I was saying, and she was just so beautiful and fascinating to watch as she talked and laughed and occasionally touched me on the forearm.
When Al Ůbaydah Al Shams lifted her glass and took a sip Al Taymūr Al Muħammad noticed my eyes glide up and down her body.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad found himself excited to see me taking the opportunity to check out his nice-looking extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad decided to take a few more moments and just watch what happened, finding an open spot and ordering a drink from a passing waitress.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad was not close enough to hear us but Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could see us quite clearly from his vantage point.
We continued our pleasant conversation, and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad noticed that she turned her body to face me more directly.
When she did that she crossed her legs and I dropped my gaze to check her out once again.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams continued to reach out to touch me lightly on occasion to emphasize a point, but now when she did so she would sometimes reach out to gently squeeze my arm.
I was a good-looking man, tall and well-built in a nice summer-weight suit, and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad saw that on one occasion when she touched my shoulder she then trailed her fingers down my bicep and rested them ever so briefly there, giving me an almost imperceptible squeeze before dropping her hand back down to her own knee.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad saw us glance into each other’s eyes for a moment, but Al Taymūr Al Muħammad couldn’t be sure.
By this point his imagination was beginning to heat up, just as his pulse was rising.
I then clearly looked down and commented on her ring, because Al Ůbaydah Al Shams held up her left hand.
I took it and examined her wedding ring, holding onto her hand for several moments.
I pretended to inspect her ring.
Something about that sent a jolt through Al Taymūr Al Muħammad.
We exchanged a comment and then glanced around, apparently looking to see where Al Taymūr Al Muħammad had disappeared off to.
I then took a sip of my juice while Al Ůbaydah Al Shams continued to check out the crowd and then spotted Al Taymūr Al Muħammad.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams smiled and raised her eyebrows.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad grinned back at her and raised his glass in salute.
She then shot Al Taymūr Al Muħammad a mock “aren’t you naughty!” look over her own glass, and they both just grinned at each other for a moment, enjoying their strong bond across the crowded room.
I had said something to her, and she turned and leaned in close to hear me.
When she did Al Taymūr Al Muħammad noticed that I leaned over and my gaze darted down to look down her halter top.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad suspected that it was not coincidental that Al Ůbaydah Al Shams just then had to reach back with one hand and rub the back of her neck, propping the other hand on her opposite hip.
This caused her to arch her back, and she must have commented about the long drive because Al Ůbaydah Al Shams closed her eyes and turned her head just then and rubbed the back of her neck and along her shoulders, taking her time and giving her neck a good long squeeze.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could see quite clearly that I took this opportunity to give her a long, hard look.
I clearly liked what I saw, from the way my eyes shone and my tongue ran across my lips as I shifted in my seat.
Her full, braless Musalmān tits strained against the thin fabric of her top.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams could be incredibly sensual, and I was now awash in her sexual vibe.
And so was I, of course — Al Taymūr Al Muħammad had gathered by now that this little show was for his benefit, and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could feel his cut Musalmān nūnī stiffening in his jeans.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad was pretty sure that my Uncut Hindu Lund was, too.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams finished up her neck massage by bending her head down and leaning forward, so that when she opened her eyes she must have been looking right into the crotch of my suit trousers.
I let out a slight groan as she moistened her lips and looked up into my eyes.
A hint of a smile played across her gorgeous features.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could feel her rising temperature and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad just knew that Al Ůbaydah Al Shams had seen something that interested her.
She must have asked me a question because I then talked for a while as she took a drink and then considered me while I spoke.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could see her eyes running over my handsome Hindu face.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad knew that Al Ůbaydah Al Shams was thinking about me.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams had me talking, probably about myself, and she only occasionally spoke, following up with another question or comment.
As I rambled on she ran one hand through her hair, brushed her fingertips lightly over her own forearm several times, and then smoothed and straightened the hem of her skirt — but instead of pulling it down, Al Taymūr Al Muħammad noticed, she actually hiked it up a little!
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams gently rubbed her neck again and then let her fingertips trail down along the edge of her neckline, tracing a fingernail along the insides of her lovely Musalmān breasts.
Her skin tone was a beautiful light olive, and I could just see the lighter shade of her tan line along the enticing swell of her breast as she toyed with her neckline.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad just grinned at what a hot little show off Al Ůbaydah Al Shams could be.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams certainly knew just how to get me going!
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams had my full attention and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad continued to watch us intently.
What a husband.
He loved to watch his wife with me.
It excited him, pleasured him, instead of making him to realize his immense incompetence and making him angry.
His Bhogyantrānk was zero now, perhaps.*
We shared a laugh and she reached out once again to touch my forearm lightly, this time dropping her hand after a moment or two and letting it fall onto my knee where I had propped one foot up on the base of her barstool.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams has a wonderful touch.
Her fingertips traced the crease of the thin fabric of my pants for an inch or two up along my thigh and then slowly back down to my knee.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could only imagine just how erotic that light touch must have been for me.
It was almost imperceptible visually, but Al Taymūr Al Muħammad knew his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife and I could almost feel it myself right across the room.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad heard a slight groan of pleasure and then realized that it was his own!
She apparently commented on the quality of my suit, because she then reached out and felt the fabric of my lapel, caressing first along one edge and then the other.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad knew I could feel her fingers on my chest.
I glanced up at her and our eyes met with an undeniable spark of acknowledgement of our mutual enjoyment.
She then must have complimented me on my tie, because she took it between her fingers and admired it, then ran her fingertips along the edge and down along its full length, sliding her fingers slowly right down to the end.
As this happened all three of us — but only the three of us in that room — knew right at one moment that in a second or two, when her fingers reached the end of my tie where it dangled against the crotch of my trousers, Al Ůbaydah Al Shams would be unobtrusively caressing the bulge of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Her slender Musalmān fingers slid down inexorably, but tantalizingly slowly.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad heard myself mutter “ohhh, Eīshān!” as she finally ran the backs of her fingers across the taut fabric covering my straining Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams slowly traced down the one side, then ran her other hand up along the other edge of my tie, brushing her fingertips back up over the now-visible outline of my stiff Uncut Hindu Lund.
She then smoothed it out and managed to caress me yet a third time!
And just for good measure she trailed her fingertips along the inside of my thigh as she brought her hand back.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad saw her look up, directly into my eyes, and say very slowly and clearly — no doubt for Al Taymūr Al Muħammad’s benefit — “very nice, great, no doubt.”
I looked a little glassy-eyed.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams had a mischievous little grin, and we both took a long drink.
I of course, that of juice, however.
When I put my glass back down I must have asked her to dance, because we both rose and began to make our way to the dance floor.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams glanced around and then looked over at Al Taymūr Al Muħammad.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad smiled and gave her a big nod, and she flashed a sort of “wow!” look.
All three of us were buzzing on excitement by that point.
I looked back and grabbed her hand.
We found a spot on the crowded dance floor.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad had to reposition himself slightly and had a little difficulty keeping us in sight, but we seemed to be enjoying ourselves.
We danced two numbers and then the band struck up a slow, soulful song.
Some of the dancers cleared away at that point and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad got a better view.
We were each a bit hesitant, but Al Ůbaydah Al Shams took the initiative and suggested that we stay and dance to this one as well.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad moved into position to get a nice look as we moved in close and reached out for each other.
We began to sway gently, in time to the sensual music.
I held her close with one hand on the heaviness of her back and the other holding her hand up close to her shoulder.
As we moved slowly, in time to the music, our bodies were pressing close together.
Al Ůbaydah Al Shams put her head on my shoulder, and I nuzzled her hair.
His own cut Musalmān nūnī was rock-hard now as Al Taymūr Al Muħammad watched me slide my hand lower along her back, dropping down to caress Al Ůbaydah Al Shams’s fine Musalmān ass.
It was all Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could do to keep from stroking himself as Al Taymūr Al Muħammad noticed me moving my other hand to gently stroke the side of his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife’s breast.
His heart was racing and his breathing shallow and rapid while Al Taymūr Al Muħammad watched me fondle his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife on the dance floor — and saw her smile and push her hips forward to grind on my obvious Hindu bulge!
His head was buzzing and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad saw her eyes open just a little to watch me as Al Taymūr Al Muħammad approached us on the floor.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad surreptitiously ran his fingertips over her ass, just below mine, as Al Taymūr Al Muħammad passed right behind her and continued on across the floor.
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad unobtrusively placed this note by her drink and strolled out of the bar and over to the elevators: “You are incredible! Give me ten minutes, then bring him on up if you want…”
That was just enough time to get upstairs and set up the video camera trained on the bed, then slip back down to the bar.
Once Al Ůbaydah Al Shams saw me again Al Ůbaydah Al Shams leaned over and whispered to me, and Al Taymūr Al Muħammad saw me raise my eyebrows, grin broadly and nod my head affirmatively.
With that she reached out and took my hand and then led me over to the elevators, glancing back once in Al Taymūr Al Muħammad’s direction with her wonderfully wicked grin…
Al Taymūr Al Muħammad was surprised to find out that I fucked Al Taymūr Al Muħammad’s wife, Al Ůbaydah Al Shams, throughout the whole one week, nonstop, in countless incredible sex positions, Al Taymūr Al Muħammad could never even imagine.
He had the entire movie of us, to watch at his leisure and learn how to fuck his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Ůbaydah Al Shams, actually, to satisfy her sexually entirely.*
In the following days and weeks, Muħammad Åbbās remained very confused about why Muħammad Åbbās should feel like this, and more than a little guilty.
He suspected it was because he was as ardent a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān, as his wife, Al Qamar Al Jalāl, was.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl had already advised Muħammad Åbbās so many times that it was his lack of Īmān actually that he was losing interest in sex.
Muħammad Åbbās had laughed.
“Nonsense, you mean Hindus have more Īmān than Musalmīn so that the Hindus have more interest in sex than the Musalmīn have?”
To Muħammad Åbbās’s immense surprise, Al Qamar Al Jalāl did not feel insulted.
Instead, she smiled at her husband patronizingly.
Muħammad Åbbās was startled.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not talking of Pseudo Islam, I’m talking of the True Islam as it was preached originally by Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålahi wa sallam himself.”
Muħammad Åbbās suddenly realized Al Qamar Al Jalāl was taking him to discuss her favorite subject the present day Islam, being practiced by Pseudo Musalmīn was not True Islam actually.
It was Pseudo Islam instead.
Muħammad Åbbās could never refute her ideology.
He had argued with Al Qamar Al Jalāl at first, but soon he realized Al Qamar Al Jalāl had studied about it more thoroughly than he himself had.
Muħammad Åbbās escaped from his potential defeat, naturally.
For her part, Al Qamar Al Jalāl didn’t seem to want to go into that territory again, and, even though Muħammad Åbbās was tempted, during Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s – more frequent, now – bouts of lovemaking, Muħammad Åbbās managed to restrain himself.
About three months later, they were shopping in the local mall, with the girls.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and they were taking a break for an ice-cream for the girls, and coffee for them.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl was queuing at the counter, with Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s tray, and they were sitting at a table.
Muħammad Åbbās noticed a sophisticated Hindu guy, at another table, watching Al Qamar Al Jalāl, with a peculiar intensity in his gaze.*
As though she felt his stare, Al Qamar Al Jalāl turned and met his eye.
She smiled, and mouthed ‘Hi!’ at him, then her eyes flickered over to Muħammad Åbbās, and Muħammad Åbbās saw a pink tinge color on her cheekbones.
The guy, too, looked a little embarrassed as he smiled back, and Muħammad Åbbās thought his face was a bit familiar, though Muħammad Åbbās couldn’t place him.
When Al Qamar Al Jalāl returned, she didn’t mention the encounter, but Muħammad Åbbās noticed her eyes drifting over, more than once, to where the guy sat, on his own.
Something told Muħammad Åbbās that there was more to this than met the eye, but Muħammad Åbbās didn’t say anything.
Al Qamar Al Jalāl’s manner seemed a little forced, then she relaxed and, when Muħammad Åbbās looked again, the guy had gone.
During the course of the afternoon, this strange episode remained at the back of Muħammad Åbbās’s mind.
Muħammad Åbbās kept worrying at it, and trying to remember where Muħammad Åbbās had seen the guy, before.
After the girls had gone to bed, Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās were having a little late supper, on Al Qamar Al Jalāl and Muħammad Åbbās’s own.
They weren’t saying a lot and Muħammad Åbbās was thinking more and more about the incident in the afternoon.
Muħammad Åbbās decided to find out more.
“Who was the guy at the ice-cream parlor?” Muħammad Åbbās asked, suddenly, as though it had just come to his mind.
“Which guy?” came the automatic response.
Like all women, Al Qamar Al Jalāl always answered a question with another question.
“He was sitting at a table while you were at the paydesk – you said ‘Hi’ to him.”
“Oh – that was just Durgesh – the Mayor of Ved Nagar,” said Al Qamar Al Jalāl.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam