Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
He was adamant.
His father and grandfather both were Brahmarshis in HVSI.
Kaikasī Chaturvedī was smart enough to understand her eldest son’s mood perfectly.
She masterminded her entire planning keeping his every potential step carefully in consideration.*
When Muħammad got engaged, it was a bit of a relief for me. Muħammad had been miserable for years after Muħammad’s wife had deserted him for me, three weeks before his Sixty Sixth birthday.
Now he seemed to be back to a vague semblance of his former self.
I was glad.
My friend, Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah, had been through a lot.
It was more troublesome for me, because his wife had deserted Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah for me.
“I’m very sorry, Muħammad,” I said sincerely, “I never thought she was interested in me sexually.”
Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah laughed.
“Infinite BrāhmKalp has come. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan says there were only two couples in BrāhmKalp, Brāhmañ Muslimāt and Bachhalyā Brahmkanyās Bachhalyā Brahmāñīs. I think my wife was afraid of herself that Niranjan could not win her from me. She preferred you on Niranjan.”
“Niranjan Sharmā.” Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah said, “You know. He is Waħīdah’s Kħālāzād cousin.”
Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah sighed.
“Niranjan Sharmā is close enough to Bhārgav
I had, of course, met Muħammad’s fiancée a few times when she’d stayed at our house, but after a while, Muħammad asked me if I’d be all right if Zakiyah moved in with us.
There was concern on Muħammad’s face, but it was unnecessary.
I was a quietly confident ever young man, who was simply happy for Muħammad to have found someone.
But when Muħammad came to pick him up from HVSI, I did not expect to find what I did.
When I climbed up into the back of the four-by-four, there was a dazzlingly attractive slim Musalmān redhead sitting inside, smiling at me. She was about twenty eight years old, dressed in a disturbingly low-cut turquoise top and green miniskirt.
Her legs were covered in nylons.
“Hi Durgesh,” said Muħammad.
“Durgesh,” Zakiyah smiled at me, “this is my daughter, Al Jalal Al Fātimah.”
“Hi,” Al Jalal Al Fātimah had an amazing smile.
She gently shook my hand and I couldn’t help but smile seductively.
I was completely amused to female company – especially such beautiful Musalmān female company.
Musalmān females were my specialty.
Even the BrāhmKalp could not take beautiful Musalmān houseladies away from me.
Yet, I was an exception.
Waħīdah preferred me on Niranjan Sharmā.
Waħīdah loved Durgesh.
Niranjan Sharmā was surprised.
“I don’t think so, Niranjan Sharmā.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s normal.” Niranjan Sharmā interrupted Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, “In BrāhmKalp every Brāhmañ girl is a Brāhmañ’s sister according to Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā. She is not marriageable with a Brāhmañ. The Brāhmañs are required to marry Muslimāt and Muslimāt only to devote themselves to religious severities for their entire life.”
“I wanted to remind you it.”
His tone was somewhat curt to Niranjan Sharmā.
Niranjan Sharmā looked at him helplessly.
“Nevertheless, the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI is supporting Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, not Durgesh.”
The phone rang and she reached over to answer it.
“I was just…” she paused and looked at the TV, “…working on something.”
“It’ll only take a few minutes, I forgot a file I kinda need for work. Can you go on my computer and email it to me. It’s -”
“Now, now, I’m not going to remember. Just gimmie a second and I’ll go to your room and pick up the phone there, ok?”
Sītā Bhārgav made her way to the second floor of the big house she shared with me and her father Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav.
Sītā Bhārgav turned on my computer and picked up the phone in my room.
I was giving her instructions but we were having trouble communicating.
“And you searched for the filename? You’re sure you spelt it correctly…”
“Hmmm…” I muttered. “I guess I don’t absolutely have to have it…um…oh, Damn it! Of course!”
“Oh…oh geez, sorry Sītā dear.”
“Sorry about it. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
I laughed too.
“Three in one?”
“All in one, you Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ.”
“Yeah, it’s just that I totally forgot something. Here’s what you need to do…” I explained to my Bhārgav Brāhmañ beloved of thirty years how to unlock the hidden and encrypted files on my computer using a password.
She sent off the email.
I confirmed I received it.
She hung up the phone and let me get back to work.
She hesitated for a moment.
What was there to go to except boring TV or a stack of books she didn’t really want to read, or a bed where sleep lately was elusive?
Didn’t she see something interesting a moment ago?
She opened up the list of files again.
Sure enough, there was the previously-hidden ‘Work Stuff’ folder they struggled so long to find.
And beside it some other uninteresting hidden folders were now revealed, like ‘HVSI Reports’ and ‘Bank Files’.
‘Pr0n Flicks’ and ‘Pics of Slutz’ and ‘XXX Stories’.
‘No,’ she thought, ‘they can’t be. Well…well, maybe he’s just got one or two things on here…I’m sure there’s a lot of peer pressure to know a bit about that sort of thing…’
She opened up ‘Pr0n Flicks’.
The list of files was so long it scrolled down past the bottom of the screen; titles like ‘Anal Trainer’ and ‘Ass Worship’ and ‘Buttman’s Big Butt Backdoor Babes’.
She double-clicked on a file and the starting credits began to play, a rapid-fire sequence of tits and ass and cocksucking and fucking and pussy eating and assfucking and double-penetration and cum splashing everywhere and and and…
She clicked it closed.
She went to the ‘Pics of Slutz’ folder.
As with the other folder, along with the main list of files there were subdirectories.
The one right at the top was named ‘AAAAA HOT DAMN IT – THE BEST – WHACKOFF SLIDESHOW’.
Here she found explicit, hardcore digital images.
Her Bachhalyā lover, Durgesh, had pictures of beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Christian houseladies, Jew houseladies and Brāhmañ houseladies even, in leather, in rubber, in lace, in chains, and of course in nothing at all.
“I would have never of suspected,” she said to herself, “I would have never have known.” Then she gave a little smirk. “No wonder he likes computers so much.”
Among the folders I made were ‘Anal Fuckfests’, ‘Mind Control’ and ‘Ashvinātam is Best’.
She knew about computers herself.
Who doesn’t in this immensely advanced Infinite BrāhmKalp?
Of course it was a long username.
It wasn’t possible even.
Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā was the paramount constitution here.
It was legally a tremendously punishable crime and morally an immensely despised great sin.
“Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu didn’t go through immense religious severities to marry Bhārgavīs with Bachhalyās.” Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav said furiously, “Bhārgavīs deserve Durgesh himself, no other Bachhalyā even.”
Vibhīshañ Bhārgav had argued,
“There were no Bachhalyās then anywhere when Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu had gone through immense religious severities to get infinite extremely beautiful daughters. Durgesh was the only husband available to them. Hence it’s a wrong argument that Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu didn’t go through immense religious severities to marry Bhārgavīs with Bachhalyās. He himself prepared Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, ‘Bhr’gu Shāstr Samvidhān’, constituting Brahmkanyās to marry with the Bachhalyās. There isn’t any exception for Bhārgavīs in Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, Bhr’gu Shāstr Samvidhān, that Bhārgavīs have exclusive rights on the rest of the Brahmkanyās to be Brahm Jagdambās everyone.”
Vibhīshañ Bhārgav was defeated tremendously.
Nevertheless, she was jealous of beautiful Musalmān houseladies now immensely.
Bhārgavīs were no exception.
She’d gone through much of the rest of my room, and found more things to pique her interest.
In the corners of my closet and in the backs of drawers she’d found recordable CD’s with suggestive labels, porn tapes and DVD’s, and stacks of magazines.
As she listened to me move around in another part of the house, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was in her bedroom behind a closed door, kneeling over on her bed and flipping through a magazine, ‘Ass-Fuckers Vol.5 No.2’, which she was sure I wouldn’t miss from my large stack.
One of her hands was between her legs rubbing her pussy, and occasionally her fingers would reach farther, to rub the sensitive crinkle of her asshole, which would make her whole body shudder.
She was always very conservative, wearing perfect business attire; usually pantsuits that always left as little visible as possible of her neck, arms, and legs.
Her hair was always tied up in a bun or back in a tight ponytail, and her shoes were always sensible.
Not that this was foremost in my mind when I saw her, but it was the way she had always dressed since I had remembered, even back before her and her husband had split up.
It was as though Dr. Sītā Bhārgav were another species from the females I saw at HVSI, on TV, or in the pornography I consumed, the ones so willing to flaunt themselves and their sexuality just to get attention.
I grunted, and out of the corner of my eye saw her hauling some bags up to her room.
I didn’t glance over for a while, but when I did I was shocked and couldn’t break my stare.
I always thought Sītā Bhārgav had a classical face; fine lines and delicate features, a little reminiscent of the Mona Lisa, or of Greek and Roman sculptures I’d seen. She’d always worn big, practical glasses, her new pairs just like her old ones, but now for the first time I saw her wearing a sleek pair with tortoise-shell rims, that reminded me of cat’s eyes.
Her hair was sandy-brown, and at the top of her head it fell straight, but then began to curl at the level of her eyes.
She wore it untied now, and it fell around her shoulders.
Her excellent exquisite thirty years old Bhārgav Brāhmañ body, with exceptions, was slim; especially her crane-like neck, her delicate wrists, and her ankles where the contours of bone showed clearly.
But nature had also designed her body so that her breasts were large and full, and were supported by strong shoulders, and her hips and ass were big and full as well, supported by thick muscular smooth bhbr thighs.
Every daughter of Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav was a specimen of exquisite excellent Bhārgav Brāhmañ beauty.
Now, she wore a flimsy wool cardigan, rose pink, with a knit loose enough to clearly show the bra underneath, and a plunging open neck that showed off much of her shoulders and the cleavage of her upper chest.
A cream-colored skirt stopped just above her knees, but had a slit up the side where I could see the top of a smoky brown stocking.
Her feet rested in shoes with a medium heel.
“Wow,” I said as I walked into her room, and then paused, searching for any other words. “Um…are we having company over or something?”
“Oh geez, I feel kinda out of it then.” I looked down to my white socks, jeans, and rock-band T-shirt. “Do you want me to change?”
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav turned away to continue her work, and I felt my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund involuntarily pulse and twitch against the fly of my jeans.
Dinner proceeded somewhat normally, though my eyes would often wander to Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s chest, trying to make out the details of her bra, and picture how her chest would look without the cardigan draped over it.
I’d snap my head away when I became conscious of my thoughts, but then my eyes would also sometimes drift to look down through the glass table in the kitchen, looking down at Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s legs and the way she held one sleek leg against the other, and something inside of me flamed up when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s stockinged legs would rub together as she subtly shifted position.
I was looking out the window at the backyard when hands reached under my arms and wrapped themselves around my chest.
“Yow! Hey Sītā, you scared me!”
“I just wanted to say thanks for being kind to me.” She gave me a long hard squeeze. “I’m so lucky to have such a good husband.”
She placed a kiss on the back of my neck.
We were both quiet.
Each one burned on my neck like a gunshot.
Palm flat on my chest, one of her hands began to work its way down over my stomach.
My heart hammered as I realized her hand, if it continued, would discover my pulsing ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.
I slammed my hips against the counter, crouching down a little so the bulge of my crotch was hidden from view.
She gave a disappointed sigh.
“So,” she said softly, into my ear, “what’re you doing afterwards?”
“Um…I gotta.. go to work, Sītā,” I smilrd, and glanced at the clock.
Long after she had gone, my body missed her warmth pressing against my back.
When I got home late in the evening and turned on my computer monitor, there was a full-screen picture I was sure I had not left there.
A naked young woman, nasty lustful passion on her face, had my large ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund buried deep in her Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass.
The woman whose picture was there was Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s younger, twenty eight years old sister, Ramā Bhārgav.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Durgesh Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī
Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī
Durgesh Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb
I was an eternal optimist at heart, and I never regretted it.
That was why I was able to accept my Live in Relationship Partner Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s proposal that we take her newly divorced Ammī Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb with us on our ‘second honeymoon’ to Las Vegas.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t stand Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb.
Not at all: it was only that the whole idea of the trip was for it to put the fiery passion back into my damn marriage.
Something that I felt was sadly on the wane!
But Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī was determined to bring Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb along and have a good time with her.
so I felt that the best course of action that I could take was to simply give in and let her get what she wanted.
Still hopeful that I could spend at least some of the two-week holiday alone with my extremely beautiful Live in Relationship Partner, I decided that I’d better call the 5-star hotel that we’d booked into in Las Vegas and inform them of our change of situation.
The helpful young woman who took my call regretfully informed me that the hotel was completely booked out for the entire length of our stay and said that there was little chance that Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb could get a room for herself.
She did let me know that they were more than willing to set up a single bed in our room.
I thanked her.
Then I hung up.
As soon I put the telephone down on the receiver, I swore profusely, and had to fight back the urge to put my fist through the wall beside me.
I thought I’d had things all planned out perfectly.
Then my Live in Relationship Partner and my Ammī-in-law had screwed every-thing up!
Why do these women never understand what their man really wants, and when?
And even if when they understand why do they act as if they don’t understand at all anything?
Yet, there was no point in staying angry now.
It would only serve to make everything even worse.
I decided to bear it all as best as I possibly could, because that was all I could really do.
On the morning of the big day, the day that we were flying out to Las Vegas from New York City, I woke up in a very pleasant and somewhat unusual manner: to the sensations of my beautiful 21-year-old Live in Relationship Partner Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī sucking off my big, fat 8.5″ Uncut Hindu Prick.
Her long, billowing golden-blonde hair hung in tresses all around her pretty young Musalmān face and my midsection as she ravenously gulped up my thick, gooey creamy-white pre-cum, and lavishly licking at the underside of my bulging Hindu fuck-rod.
Opening her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth up as wide as she could, Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī managed to take almost the entire Hindu shaft of my throbbing, blood-red ramrod down her tight, convulsive throat.
With her right hand, she was able to squeeze and fondle my cum-heavy ball-sacs till I was groaning with rapturous ashvinātam pleasure.
She had one hell of a technique with her blowjobs!
What an expertise she was at her twenty-one only!
The Musalmān Beauties had developed an outstanding proficiency in keeping me almost obsessed with them, nowadays; due to Kħadījah Muħammad’s, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s, Fātimah Vaqār Taymūr’s and their countless other utmost loyal female Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān lieutenants.
Her tongue touched me in all the right places.
It was a truly wondrous experience every time she gave me head and was something I’m sure I’d never tire of as long as I lived.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, you’re so fucking good with your only twenty one years old extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth, baby!” I moaned in orgasmic fervour, grabbing Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī roughly by her long hair and ramming my Uncut Hindu Cock almost brutally in and out of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth without any regard for anything else but my own gratification.
Soon I had her gagging on my monstrous prong, thick streams of her clear, gleaming saliva pouring out of her strained mouth every time I almost pulled out running down over my hairy testes and upper thighs.
She looked so raunchy with my huge Hindu tool jammed down her Musalmān throat and her pretty ruby-red lips wrapped around my meaty pile-driver, looking up at me with those deep China blue eyes of hers in sweet, tender ashvinātam love.
Although my self-centred need to get off was choking her and starving her of oxygen, Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī still wanted me to climax.
Finally, I orgasmed, squirting two long, thick spurts of white Uncut Hindu Cock-sauce into Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s open, willing Musalmān mouth, which she then quickly swallowed down her throat with a few quick gulping motions.
Then when I had finally stopped cumming Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī slowly cracked a slight smile.
“Well, looks like somebody enjoyed their early-morning surprise!” my Live in Relationship Partner said with a good-natured chuckle.
Within moments, my somewhat deflated Hindu pecker was beginning to rise again to the occasion, something that Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī sure didn’t fail to miss.
“Allah, yā Allah! Måshā Allah!! Subħān Allah!! You are an eager beaver this morning, aren’t you? Well, since I don’t know if we’ll be able to get much screwing done over the next couple of weeks, I suppose you can have a go at my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān snatch!”
I had to smile to myself when Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī rose up until she was level with me and then swung her right leg up over my midsection, slowly working herself into position so that she could slide herself down onto my thick, rigid Hindu man-meat.
She wanted to fuck just as much if not more than I did.
But things changed real quick once I actually slid my huge Hindu phallus into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān snatch – Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī always transferred into a Uncut Hindu Cock-starved Musalmān sexual deviant, willing to do things any way, anyhow, just as long as it felt good to the parties involved.
And talk about a gutter-mouth….
She kissed me hungrily on the lips as she hiked her thin, sheer white negligee up around her waist and lowered herself slowly down onto my aching Uncut Hindu Prick.
She felt the head of my Uncut Hindu Cock nuzzle at Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s soaking wet extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy-lips.
Then it slowly slid into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt as she lowered her body down onto my own.
It was a truly heavenly experience for me, causing me to let out a mighty roar of ashvinātam orgasmic delight as she took me in to the limit.
She then squeezed my Uncut Hindu Dick with the muscles of her skilled young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Vagina, milking my Uncut Hindu Cock as though she had a hand down there between her legs squeezing me.
I groaned in ashvinātam ecstasy into Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s open mouth as she rode my throbbing sex-organ at her own frenzied pace.
It drove me wild when Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī would grind and gyrate her hips.
My aching Uncut Hindu Prick was buried deepest inside her gaping wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān fuck hole.
It was squeezing the big Uncut Hindu Cock jammed deepest up her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
She drove her right hand down to her budding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Clitoris and frigged her sex-nub with furious intensity, shaking and moaning lustfully as her entire being was swept up in her own mighty climax.
I thrust my blood-red Uncut Hindu Dick in and out of my Live in Relationship Partner’s sopping wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt with all the brutal, animalistic Hindu passion that I could muster.
I was feeding thus the flames of Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s desire with my primal Hindu lust, and soon enough could feel my second release for the morning building up inside of me.
I pounded her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy with everything I had, causing her to buck and thrash on top of me as she rode my Uncut Hindu Cock like a sex-crazed Musalmān cowgirl.
She screamed at the top of her lungs.
She was shaking uncontrollably as her second orgasm flooded through her entire body.
“Allah, yā Allah! Måshā Allah!! Subħān Allah!! you fuck me so well! you fuck my tight extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy, you dirty stinking Hindu ! Make me cum so hard with your huge Uncut Hindu Cock pounding my dripping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān fuck hole. Oh yes, that’s it, give it to me!” Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī babbled.
I reached up with both hands and pulled her negligee down to expose her full, luscious 36C cup breasts.
Suddenly I was squeezing and fondling their firm ripeness as I drove up into Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān twat.
I teased and tweaked her full, dark brown nipples, twisting the hard nubs of her pointed teats till my Live in Relationship Partner let out a grasp of ashvinātam pleasure-pain, something that my outwardly-wholesome young Live in Relationship Partner really got off on when we fucked.
I loved her tits.
They had to be one of Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s best assets.
“Do you want me to fuck you in the ass, Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī? I know you do, you’re always in the mood for a good old buggering after I ream your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt for a while. Tell me, you filthy little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tramp, is that what you want? Do you want me to jam this big fucking Uncut Hindu Dick up your tight crap-hole, and fuck your anal passage till it’s all red and gaping open? Is that what you want, to feel my Hindu jism shoot into the depths of your Musalmān bowels, you dirty fucking Musalmān slut?” I said in the sternest voice I could manage under the circumstances, with my highly aroused Uncut Hindu Cock still jammed in my Live in Relationship Partner’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī didn’t have to say a word.
I could tell simply by looking up into her eyes that that was exactly what she wanted me to do.
Taking control of the situation, I pulled my cum-covered Hindu prong out of my loving Live in Relationship Partner’s dripping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt and flipped her over onto the over side of the king-sized bed, forcing her onto her stomach with her ample Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān rear end sticking up in the air towards me.
I quickly shoved my Uncut Hindu Lund in between the cheeks of her extremely beautiful gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān ass and proceeded to give my Live in Relationship Partner a good old anal-rimming with my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Tasting the tangy spunk from her bum-hole on my Uncut Hindu Cock got me even more aroused than I already was from getting one hell of a good blowjob and fucking her tight extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy for at least ten minutes.
Therefore, I decided to be brief with the preliminaries.
When I was confident that I’d lubricated her back door enough to slide my bulging red Uncut Hindu Cock-meat into her crapper, more confidently and with more aggressive Hindu lust.
I quickly got up onto my knees behind Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī and slowly guided the head of my Uncut Hindu Dick to the lotion-drenched entrance of her extremely beautiful gorgeous perfectly round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān ass.
Pushing gently into her back-hole, I felt a real tight restriction from the outer ring of Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s extremely beautiful gorgeous perfectly round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān ass.
But I managed to push on past all the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān constrictiveness, with a little bit of determined Hindu force, and slid all 8.5″ of my hard Uncut Hindu Cock into her ultra-tight extremely beautiful gorgeous perfectly round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān ass.
It felt like fucking a virgin every time I rammed Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s extremely beautiful gorgeous perfectly round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān ass.
It wasn’t however, on a regular basis but wasn’t all that uncommon either.
In addition, it was something that Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī loved very much after her vaginal sex with me.
I tried to make her more and vaginal.
Yet when she disclosed to me that it was one of the main reasons, she left her over-religious Musalmān husband, Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī, I was stunned,
“Tahajjud, you mean”
I immediately changed my attitude.
“Well, what’s there to understand?” Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī furiously argued with me, “We do love it. That’s all. Why isn’t it enough for you immensely hypocrite males? Why do you think it’s unnatural? It’s not, I say. I want to argue on it with you till I do exist and all my ashvinātam anal pleasure loving Panjvaqtah Namāzī Sunni Musalmān girlfriends too.”
“Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī!”
“What do you think about gay males and bisexual males?”
“Only that I don’t belong to those categories.” I said being angry somewhat.
“Yet those categories do exist. Don’t they?”
“Similarly, why can’t there be a category of women also, who love all kinds of sex including anal sex too?”
“Well, I never refused that possibility. When did I?”
“Never. I do acknowledge it. But then what’s the problem there? Why can’t you put my Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends and me too in that category? And why can’t you respect our physical needs too, as the physical needs of the gay males and bisexual males are respected, and legal now, in every sophisticated modern country?”***
I managed to reach around between the two of us and diddle Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s blood-gorged clit, making her grunt and groan with lustful pleasure.
She redoubled her driving thrusts back against my Uncut Hindu Dick as I drove into her, so my Uncut Hindu Cock was buried in her Musalmān crap-hole as far as it could possibly go.
Soon she was wailing and hollering at the top of her lungs as her third orgasm tore through her, and her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt shot out a long, spurting explosion of clear girl-cum when she went off.
As my Live in Relationship Partner came with my big Uncut Hindu Dick shoved right up her Musalmān a-hole, I began to slowly build up my own tempo, working my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of her bung-hole with more speed while pushing into her tight little rear as far as I could with every in-stroke.
Well, I was also enjoying it now.
I had to.
He had congratulated me personally,
I smiled at him.
“In fact, I thank you instead.” Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī said.
“I can understand you, my friend.” I said gravely.
“Well, we haven’t another option, my friend. Our religion requires us to bear with them until we can’t civilize them.”
“Imām nārīm sukr’té dadhāt?” Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī smiled.
“You know about it?” I smiled too.
“Well, it’s not the Chief Principle of Hinduism.”
“Okay. Though I don’t agree with you, let’s say it’s one of the main principles of Hinduism.” Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī laughed.
“We Musalmīn believe that actually ‘Imām nārīm sukr’té dadhāt’ is the actually main principle of Hinduism. ‘Kr’ñvanto Vishvamāryam’, ‘Dharm Santānam’, ‘Dharm Sansthāpan’, is actually your front only so that you can face the charges of non Hindus that the Hindus are always after non Hindu Beauties. It’s Hindus’ actual Mission of Life/Existence. Eat drink and be marry.”
Even though she had cum only a minute or two beforehand, I soon had Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī screaming at the top of her lungs from her fourth orgasm that morning, and my own release was also imminent.
I didn’t try to hold back my own climax, feeling it swell up from deep inside me and explode out of my Hindu male body through my throbbing, pulsating Uncut Hindu Prick.
My Uncut Hindu Dick-batter soon filled up Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī’s stretched, thoroughly fucked crap-hole till it was overflowing.
For the time being, temporarily, I wanted nothing more than to rest up for a little while.
Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī snuggled up against me, resting her head in the crook of my arm.
She was covered in sweat, the same as I was, but had a contented smile on her gorgeous young face that I couldn’t help but find infectious.
I loved the feel of her ample tits pressing up against the left side of my body.
I sure wasn’t going to tell her to ease off any time soon.
“Thank-you for this,” Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī said softly into my ear, and then she slid her tongue in to lick out a bit of my earwax. “Thank-you for letting my Ammī come along with us. I know this was meant to be our special holiday together, but my newly divorced Ammī, Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb, needs to be with me right now, and I want to be there to help her through this rough time in her life.”
“Baby, I’m just happy that you’re happy,” I replied, kissing her tenderly on top of her head.
That, I knew deep in my heart, was the absolute truth.
I was willing to do whatever it took for my lovely Live in Relationship Partner Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī, even if it meant that I was shacking up with one of my in-laws for the holidays.
And I was in a much better frame of mind on the first morning of our two-week vacation after some really hot, frantic sex with my Uncut Hindu Cock-crazy young Live in Relationship Partner.
After all, Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī gave me vaginal sex also, as much as I needed.
Well, I could give her as much anal sex as she needed from me, until I could civilize her more.
Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī couldn’t give it to her.
He was too sophisticated, too religious, too ardent a practicing Musalmān.
I was also too sophisticated, too religious, too ardent a practicing Hindu.
Consequently, I had to give it to her and adjust with her until she was more civilized.
It was my Gr’hasth Āshram after all, my Tapovan, my field of sacrifices, severities, as well as my field of enjoyment, consumption, too.*
She worked out at her local gym and ran 4 miles each day.
Although I was maintained my Live in Relationship with her daughter and loved Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī very much, the two of us flirted incessantly whenever my Live in Relationship Partner wasn’t around.
One thing that Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb had over her daughter, Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī, was the size of her breasts.
I’m not complaining about my Live in Relationship Partner’s tits, no way it was only that Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb’s 38DD cup chest-coconuts were unavoidable.
She still had a very pretty, mature face that I found very endearing, with light green eyes that I found mesmerizing every time I looked into their depths and full, ruby-red lips that I found myself yearning to kiss.
It was wrong to feel that way about one’s own Ammī-in-law, I knew that, but I couldn’t help the way that I felt about her.
Well, so many of my Ammīs-in-law were themselves maintaining their Live in Relationship with me, along with their daughters too.
True, most of them were not my Ammīs-in-law when they started their Live in Relationship with me.
Their daughters made them my Ammīs-in-law afterwards, in most cases.
But in some cases it was vice versa as well.
Here it was again the same, it it would happen, ultimately.
Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb had short platinum-blonde hair stylishly cut and combed in a pixie-style that always had my hormones a-flowing.
With a huge, juicy-looking round great Saůūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān ass I was just dying to squeeze and fondle, Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb had a truly spectacular, voluptuous figure that any red-blooded Hindu would’ve lusted after.
She had long, slim legs that just drove me crazy with desire.
It took all of my willpower to keep my hands off her.
Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb had a warm, friendly vibe about her that everyone seemed to notice as soon as they met her and got on very well with almost everyone that she met.
Her only vice, however, was alcohol.
In addition, of course it was a great vice.
Alcohol had broken most of the marriages in West already.
Alcohol had made incest respected even among most of the Westerners.
Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb couldn’t say no to the drink.
It seemed to rule over her life.
I loved my Ammī-in-law immensely and wanted Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb to be happy.
She needed to get on with her life, putting both her loser of an ex-husband and the alcohol behind her, but it was all really up to Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb herself to make the effort and have a go at moving on.
We met Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb at the airport without much fuss at all and managed to get through Security.
It was extremely tight after 9/11.
The plane was half an hour late, but we finally got on-board and got airborne, heading southwest towards Vegas, America’s gambling Mecca.
Not the best place for Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb to be travelling to if she was going to kick drinking booze.
However, it was too late to back out of things now!
We quickly got down to having fun as soon as we arrived at our Las Vegas hotel, as it was a very bright and sunny day and it had just passed 12 noon.
The Musalmān ladies quickly decided to get changed into their bathing suits and head on down to the swimming pools out the side of the 5-star resort.
I promised to join them later but wanted to get unpacked and have a juice by myself before getting into the holiday spirit.
While the two Musalmān Beauties went into the large bedroom to get changed into their swimwear, I went over to the oak wood bar to fix myself a glass of juice.
I drank back and I was filling up the glass again when Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī and her Ammī Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb came out of the bedroom.
Both were dressed in the skimpiest little G-string bikinis I had ever seen.
My Uncut Hindu Lund immediately saluted both of them.
And I sympathized with my Uncut Hindu Prick.
I couldn’t believe how tiny the Musalmān ladies’ triangular patches of swimwear were over their private parts.
In addition, I even noticed that both of them had a severe case of camel-toe as their bikini briefs were riding up their meaty awfully stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy-slits.
With a massive Hindu boner thrusting up against my pants, I stayed behind the bar so that Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī and Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb wouldn’t notice my state of arousal.
I was even more so.
I felt a twitch of arousal course through my body, as I imagined the two hot Musalmān broads walking around down by the pool, with their formidable Musalmān assets so openly displayed for the entire world to see.
Moreover, it really turned me on to think about all the Hindus who were going to get stiff as a board in their pants when they saw the Ammī/daughter pair.
Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī‘s little swimsuit was dark purple in color.
It barely covered the bits that had to be covered for decency’s sake.
Even I could only bear it because Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī was not my duly married wife.
She was Live in Relationship Partner only.
Her Ammī Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb wore the same type of swimmers but in the light orange color.
It could easily be understood why she was divorced now.
No man that had any self-respect left in him, could bear himself being humiliated for his wife is so liberal to others in public.
Her poor ex-husband.
I sympathized with him too.
Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb’s mammoth tits were barely contained by her bikini bra, and I couldn’t help but gawk at my Ammī-in-law despite the fact that my Live in Relationship Partner Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī was right in front of me.
“You like, I see,” Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī commented wryly, staring into my eyes then glancing down at my lap, behind the bar and out of her sight.
And I could tell that Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī was excited about it.
They were enjoying the fact that I was horny as hell and gagging to fuck them both.
I felt it in my Hindu bones.
They were having a fun old time teasing and flaunting themselves in front of me.
Suddenly, I was looking upon this entire vacation in a totally different light.
This could just turn out to be the most fantastic two weeks of my life!
I thought hopefully to myself as I realized that Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī was encouraging her own Ammī to flaunt her wares to get me all riled up.
Suddenly, I snapped.
With Tajallī Sheikħ Wahāb right standing right beside my Live in Relationship Partner, I walked straight around the bar and went over to Tahajjud Åbbās Hāshmī.
I bravely unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down around my knees, so that my achingly hard Uncut Hindu Prick was pushing out against my underwear.
I grabbed my Live in Relationship Partner around her waist and pulled her body against me.
My Live in Relationship Partner, Durdānah Sheikħ’s two daughters, Tawħīd Afzal and Furqān Afzal, had always been close from the time they were little girls.
And though they did have disagreements at times like most sisters do, for the most part, they were inseparable.
My Live in Relationship Partner, Durdānah Sheikħ, and I had been quite young when her girls came along.
My Live in Relationship Partner, Durdānah Sheikħ, was eighteen when Tawħīd Afzal had been born.
Furqān Afzal came along three years later, six months after My Live in Relationship Partner, Durdānah Sheikħ, and I had gotten together since Durdānah Sheikħ’s husband, Muħammad Afzal Aurangzeb, could not believe Durdānah Sheikħ was my friend yet she didn’t have any sexual relationship with me.
Durdānah Sheikħ had shouted,
“You are crazy, Muħammad Afzal Aurangzeb. I never wanted to work. You insisted”
“Yessss! ” Muħammad Afzal Aurangzeb hissed in quite desperate indignation, “I insisted you should work, not you should have an affair with your Hindu employer.”
“He is hyper sexual.” Muħammad Afzal Aurangzeb thundered.
It was Ved Nagar, the utmost recent, utmost modern, City on the globe.
It was a knot of people gathering outside the brilliantly lighted Ashvinātam EV door.
It was one of the offices of many political departments that lined the ground levels solidly in this section.
I asked the nearest person in an automatic tone of authority,
“What’s going on?”
The Musalmān Beauty I addressed was standing on tiptoe, said,
“Allah, yā Allah! Damned if I know. I just got here.”
Someone else said excitedly,
“They got those blasphemous Ashvinātam Sharīr Yantrs in there. It’s the hell now. They have gone beyond every limit.”
“They are trying the patience of the Musalmīn since the Musalmīn lost their political power.” A Mullah said indignantly, “Now they are fucking our thoroughly educated Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Beauties so openly. What more we need to witness. The Qayāmat has come, I say.”
“Maulānah Aurangzeb Åālamgīr is right.” Someone shouted.
“I think maybe they’ll throw them out here. Allah, yā Allah! I’d like to take them apart.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me,
“They are politically motivated.”
“What do you mean?”
Fātimah Vaqār Taymūr smiled peacefully.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled,
I plunged into the crowd,
“Let me through. Let me through. I have my own office too, here.”
They made way.
I caught words behind me,
“…take them apart. They don’t deserve to live anymore now. Split them down separate from each other.”
And someone else laughed.
I turned a little cold.
Ved Nagar, the City, was the acme of efficiency.
Yet it made demands of its inhabitants too.
Doubtlessly some of the Musalmīn were angry as their favourite political party so far, Congress was losing its every game politically constantly since Anna Hazare had emerged as a mass leader in India.
Almost all of the educated Musalmīn even were criticizing UPA 2 now.
Even its resignation and announcement of Midterm 2012 had not solved its problems.
One after another every dirty political game the Congress had played so far had been exposed.
UPA 2 couldn’t purchase entire media persons this time.
There were so many patriotic true newshound media persons too who refused to be sold out.
There was no Somnāth Chatterjī too who could save UPA 2, as Somnāth Chatterjī had saved UPA 1, ignoring shamelessly all the evidences of Cash for Vote.
I remembered the desperate shameless rally of Congress when UPA 2 was compelled to resign by a grand mass movement of Anna Hazare.
But there was no gain for Congress.
Even its desperate rally failed miserably.
The Court had declared the winning of ‘No Confidence Motion’ by UPA 1, was illegal.
As PV Narsingh Rao’s government was guilty in the matter of Jharkhand, so was the UPA 1 government too.
UPA 2, consequently, had no other alternative except to resign and announce Midterm 2012.***
The interior of the Office was emptier than the street outside.
The Office Manager, with commendable foresight, had thrown the Ashvinātam E.V. door early in the game.
It had prevented potential troublemakers from entering successfully.
It also kept the principals in the argument from leaving.
It was important to abate the notorious political activities of the losers.
I got through the Ashvinātam E.V. door fucking Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She was on her fours.
The Office Manager ran to us instantly.
Muħammad Naåīm Ħasan was the Office Manager here.
He had called Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
He was talking loudly,
“Bājī, my Ashvinātam Sharīr Yantrs are hired by me under thoroughly constitutional and legal permission from the competent government authorities and court. All of them have all the necessary legal degrees in Eīshān Vigyān and legal papers that they are authorized to work in such a capacity. I am perfectly within my constitutional and legal rights.”
There were three Ashvinātam Sharīr Yantrs at the rear of the department.
The Shaktimān Hindus were aged somewhere around thirty years.
The Musalmān Beauties were also on their fours.
Six beautiful Musalmān ladies were standing near the Ashvinātam E.V. door.
The political grandstanders were smart enough not to include Musalmān males in them.
Yet a quite large number of such Musalmīn was outside, not permitted, unsuccessful, to enter.
“All right, now,” said I, crisply, “what’s going on? What’s all the fuss about?”
“My wife, Durdānah Sheikħ has been permitted here to work, not to get fucked by you.” Muħammad Afzal Aurangzeb shouted at me.
“Who is fucking your wife, Durdānah Sheikħ?” I asked patiently, “Answer me without shouting. Otherwise the police guards here would arrest you. Understand?”
Muħammad Afzal Aurangzeb was pre-determined to make a scene.
He was paid to do so.
But he was not paid to be arrested even.
So, he cooled down somewhat.
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