Her Ammī said on the mobile,
“I don’t care how you do it, just try and find out.”
She had phoned saying she had a delicate matter to discuss, and wanted a favor.
This was the favor:
She was concerned that her little brother, Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb, might be gay, or at least unsure of his sexuality.
She had been concerned at some of the friends he was starting to hang around with, some of the clothes he had started to wear, and some of the things he had started to say.
She was wondering, since Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm used to be close – well certainly the closest of her five offspring – whether Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb could come and stay with Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her Hindu husband, Durgesh, during the February school break.
Just for a week, during which Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm could perhaps have a chat and find out what was going on in his head.
“Talk, or whatever. Whatever you need to do. However, you do it.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm agreed, against her better judgment.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was twenty eight years old.
Married to me, sixty five, for four years, despite the tremendous opposition of her entire family.
Lived about ten miles from her parents and Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had three older sisters.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was the youngest, and was ten years her junior.
He was the surprise, the unexpected child.
They were not sure her parents planned to have anymore after Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
Anyway, as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings were nearest in age Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings got on well as kids.
While her sisters were out partying and meeting Hindu boys, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings learned how to change nappies and bath babies.
Again Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings lost interest by the Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was fourteen.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings worked part Time.
I worked full Time for sexual social services.
Everyone insisted persistently I shouldn’t ever change it, including the learned, highly educated and absolutely unbiased humanist Musalmīn even that actually wanted to cure Ummat-e-Muslimah from sexual and other abuses as Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam himself did.
They argued none else was as capable and as unbiased in this matter, as I was.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings liked her job.
Her co-workers were fun and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit to enjoying looking at some of the fit young female students.
I was her one and only, in every sense.
She never enjoyed even looking anyone else!*
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb arrived on Sunday afternoon.
She last saw him at Eīdul Fitr, he seemed well.
They used to be close but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know him that well.
They didn’t talk much and usually when they did, it was at family gathering.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t get the chance to really talk to him.
He always seemed a bit quiet, pre occupied.
A bit of a peripheral figure.
He settled in, they showed him his room.
He quietly found an armchair to make his base for the week.
He read a lot – something Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know.
Sunday passed uneventfully, as did Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I go to work.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb just hung around at home.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm come back from work about 2pm, and we just watched TV, or read.
I told all this was quite funny.
When Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm told me, straddling and fucking me, her Ammī’s request, I just raised my eyebrows.
“That’s your Ammī all over,” I said gravely.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm raised her eyebrows, but I didn’t extend what I already had said of her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm doubted her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī was too having a wild animal extramarital affair with me, as most of her beautiful Musalmān lady friends did.
Yet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm never liked they never needed it.
It was only their ever irresponsible sexual adventure that they wanted to keep enjoying.
On Monday night, we went to bed, leaving Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb downstairs watching TV.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm awoke about two hours later, just hearing the TV still on.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got up and crept downstairs.
The TV was on, football showing, but Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was asleep on the sofa.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm switched off the TV, shook him awake and led him to his bedroom.
This part of our immensely large house was compact, box shaped, two bedrooms and a small garden.
Downstairs you come in the front door, immediately left is a toilet. Through the small hall to an open plan kitchen, diner, living room and then French windows leading to the garden.
From the hall is a winding staircase up to the landing.
A bathroom, a store cupboard and the two bedrooms.
Tuesday followed a similar pattern to Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got home about 2 pm.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was out, leaving a note saying he had gone for a walk to explore the neighborhood.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was quite pleased that he wasn’t just sitting around all day, but making the effort to get out.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm decided she must take him out for lunch one day.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t start work till noon on Wednesday or Friday, and was off on Thursday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went upstairs to her bedroom.
She removed her work uniform and went to have a shower.
Just as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm came out the shower, the doorbell rang.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings wrapped a towel around herself and went downstairs.
It was Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
“Sorry Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I forgot her key,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled. “It’s all right.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went back upstairs to dress.
When I came in we had dinner, then I asked Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb if he would like to come along to the pool club with me.
Great idea Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought.
It would be good for them to bond a bit.
Maybe I could get some damn clue to save Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm having to solve her Ammī’s ‘problem’.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had almost forgotten the reason Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was there.
Even though he was still quiet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were enjoying him being here.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm couldn’t explain it but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought he was enjoying it too.
Ammī could be quite domineering at Times.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm just couldn’t see how Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were going to tackle THE subject.
That night in bed, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me if I had approached her Ammī’s topic.
“No,” I said abruptly. ” Poor lad, just needs to be left alone I reckon.”
“I do agree, but……”.
“I know I know, your Ammī won’t let it rest.”
“What are you gonna do then?” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me.
“Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I don’t know.”
“You could ask him outright.”
‘I’m not sure, that will probably piss him off.”
“What then? We both fuck around in front of him and see his reaction to it.” I teased Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
She didn’t get my point.
“Yeah right.” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm beamed, “Why didn’t you go into his room naked one night and see if it gets him greedy for your Uncut Hindu Lund ?”
I looked at her,
“Nonsense, I don’t want to fuck any Musalmān in his ass. I’m not Shankar Mahāpralayankar, neither Rājesh Rājpūt. I never lack beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Musalmān Beauties to satisfy myself sexually.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled at me, teasing me,
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar says even a Musalmān’s ass works as an anal rheostat when a Stavak Shaktimān Uncut Hindu Lund penetrates it.”*
Al Åābidah Al Sultān didn’t know why she did it.
She guessed she just wasn’t thinking.
She did it unknowingly.
It was either her increased Bhogchakr to her ultimate status, an Ummil åālmīn, or my increased Bhogyantrānk that provided her immense Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty to let me enjoy her sexually.
I didn’t want to, if it were the second case.
Her husband was one of my Musalmān stepsons and I wanted to keep my Musalmān stepsons’ faith in me too.
Indian National Congress and the other pseudo secular anti Hindus were tremendously defeated in the recent Loksabhā Elections in 2014.
The Time Cycle of Midterm 2012 had resulted ultimately into complete destruction of the anti Hindus and pseudo seculars.
Even the Pseudo Musalmīn were returning to their pre 1857 attitude.
Perhaps even to more.
1857 didn’t have absolute Hindu leadership.
Now, it was too there.
I wanted the return of the faith of even Pseudo Musalmīn in Hindu leadership forever.
The British rule after 1857 had tried to destroy it their best.
It even succeeded even in dividing India and keeping Pakistan against India deliberately, determinedly and adamantly.
Previous Indian National Congress government of India stupidly let it happen.
Now an NDA, a BJP government actually, with complete majority, had come into power.
The Hindus must show their real big heartedness to not only to Musalmīn but to every minority even.
It would prove their unique competence to lead and make the world better constantly nonstop forever.
It was an opportunity for Hindus to prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.
HVSI had brought it laboriously gradually eventually ultimately in two years approximately.
Now it was the time to act intellectually.
Hindus could retain their victory by acting intellectually winning the confidence and faith of the minorities forever and prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.*
Farīdah Imām and I were looking into one another’s eyes very passionately.
Her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān legs were around my nude Hindu male waist.
I was playing with her gorgeous ardent Musalmān buttocks.
“We can do now more than we did when Hindutv was not in power in India.” Farīdah Imām smiled.
“Let’s Narendr Modi start with Nawaz Sharif, Åbdullah Yāmīn, Ħāmid Karzaī etcetera affably. The region should come under peace once more.”
Al Farīdah Al Imām squeezed her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Don’t you think the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists can try to destroy the glamour of the occasion?”
I felt the immense sexual bliss around my penis.
Al Farīdah Al Imām was expert in pleasuring me now tremendously.
Why couldn’t she?
She never married Nazīr Aħmad for him or herself even.
Moreover, she had expressed to everyone that actually she loved me, not Nazīr Aħmad extremely boldly.
If they didn’t like it, they should have objected at the very time when Al Farīdah Al Imām managed to sit on my lap openly for more than fifteen minutes even.
Yet, Saåīdah Anwar, Rashīd Aħmad, Nazīr Aħmad, no one objected then.*
We started with a run on our two treadmills.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s industrial-strength sports bra didn’t completely restrain the bounce of her D-cup ardent Musalmān boobs.
She I loved me to watch them.
It was infuriating to her that I didn’t seem to notice.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s big ardent Musalmān tits were a present from Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, for her thirtieth birthday.
She told him she didn’t want to go through her whole life with tiny A-cup boobs, and he was happy to pay for an ardent Musalmān boobs job.
At the time she was also becoming overweight, as thirty-year-old women generally tend to, if she doesn’t care especially.
She joined me in my morning workouts.
She said I was her inspiration.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, laughed on it.
“Okay, but I won’t guarantee you won’t fall in love with Dad. They call him Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid felt her loyalty to her husband, her shauharparasī and her Īmān, both insulted.
As soon as Narendr Modī assumed office as the new Prime Minister Of India, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, had started taunting her more.
No doubt, being thirty, a Jet Musalmān Beauty, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid appreciated Narendr Modī very much.
But she wasn’t alone even in the Musalmān youth.
Four years of workouts sculpted Al Maimūnah Al kħālid into a sleek and strong specimen of feminine perfection with platinum blonde hair.
34D-24-34. 5’6″ tall.
Perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Perky round proud ever erect excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tits were high and firm, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
She closely resembled Nigār Sultānah, a heroine of yesteryears.
Google her and you’ll get the idea.
After running on the treadmills, we lifted free weights then finished with thirty minutes of yoga.
The yoga was Al Maimūnah Al Khalid’s idea.
I went along with it because it kept me flexible and it’s entertaining to watch her contort herself into all those poses.
When we were done, we cooled down for a few minutes on an old sofa in the basement.
“So, how are classes going?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was a college freshman at age 34.
She didn’t go to college at the normal age because she had her daughter to take care of.
My stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, knocked her up when she was only 16 and he was 20.
Her daughter, Al Jihād fil Islam, was eighteen now and a senior in high school.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, didn’t mind Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid going to college.
It amused him in fact.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was kind of a bubble-headed blonde.
Not exactly the academic type.
Neither Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, nor I could picture Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid in a college classroom, but she wanted it so we supported her 100%.
She was a great person despite being a bit ditzy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid inherited money from her wealthy family, but Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a banker and could afford to support them without dipping into Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s funds.
They had a good, prosperous life in Memphis, Tennessee.
Anyway, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s face lit up and she replied, “College is great, Durgesh. I’m having so much fun!”
“Good. You’re fitting in?” I asked.
She had been worried about fitting in with the other college freshmen because she was so much older.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“Yep. I told them I’m 22 and they believe me! They think your old Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid is barely older than you are! Not bad, huh?”
I wasn’t really surprised.
She had a young-looking cute face with high cheekbones and dimples, and her body was probably the envy of every girl in her classroom.
“It’s because you keep yourself in great shape,” I complimented her.
“And I have you to thank for that, honey. You’re my inspiration,” she replied and kissed me on the cheek. “I wish your stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my husband, would work out with us.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a little older than Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, 40, exactly 25 years younger than me.
Yet he was overweight.
He never paid attention to keep himself fittest as we both did.
I never left my Stavans, Mandrs, and Satrs.
Similarly, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid never missed her Panjvaqtah Namāz.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd too never missed his Salawāt yet, he wasn’t fit nevertheless.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid teased her husband,
“Salawāt keep us Musalmān womankind fittest. You mankind need something more. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated says, if Taħannus, Stavan, Meditation, isn’t added, Salawāt actually femalize Musalmīn.”
“Nonsense, damn your Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and yourself too. Allah Allah. And you call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated? You are crazy. Lāhaul vilā qūvat.”
As a loan officer at the bank, he spent too much time sitting behind a desk.
“Good luck getting him to exercise,” I said.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a sedentary, inactive, sitting, kind of guy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid sighed.
“I know, but I worry about his health.”
Then she brightened up and added,
“Speaking of your ever incompetent stepson Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my ever imperfect husband, a funny thing happened yesterday.”
“What?” I smiled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“I told Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār that you’re my husband,” she said.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār was Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s best friend at college.
“What?! Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” she replied and giggled again. “Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār knows I’m married, and when she saw your photo on my phone, she assumed that you’re my husband.”
“Why didn’t you correct her?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid looked at me as if I was a dunce.
“Your ever incompetent stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, isn’t very believable as the husband of a young college girl, Durgesh!”
That was true.
40-year-old overweight men with receding hairlines rarely are married to college freshmen.
“So you let her think your sixty five years old Hindu father in law is your husband?” I asked incredulously.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid grinned and nodded.
“Isn’t it brilliant? It really helps me fit in. Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār thinks you’re hot, by the way. She thinks you aren’t thirty five even.”
“Is she hot? You could set me up on a date with her,” I kidded.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid frowned.
“You’re supposed to be my husband, Durgesh.”
“Oh yeah,” I chuckled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid seemed to be annoyed with my joke, but a couple minutes later she hesitantly said,
“Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār invited us to go to spring break with her and her boyfriend Shankar Mahāpralayankar.”
My jaw dropped. “What? You and me? Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, I can’t go to spring break with you.”
She pouted and whined, “Why not? I really really want to go. I won’t embarrass you, I promise.”
“No, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. It’s too weird.”
“Please?” she begged. “I never got to do stuff like this when I was your age.”
She left it unspoken that she didn’t do stuff like that because she was taking care of her daughter.
Was it a sin that, she must not get it even now, if she could get it?
I felt the weight of guilt crushing me.
Maybe this wasn’t too much to ask.
Going on a vacation with her wasn’t too weird, was it?
Moreover, it would make her happy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid deserved to be happy.
“Okay,” I agreed.
I was sure I’d regret it otherwise.
I never wanted to regret ever for anything whatsoever if it could be avoided somehow.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid squealed with delight and jumped into my arms.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the ever best father in law, Durgesh!” She kissed me on both cheeks and the tip of my nose.
“Don’t you mean best husband?” I teased.
“Yes. Best spring break Hindu hubby.” She kissed the tip of my nose again.
“Has Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, your husband, agreed to this trip?”
“Not yet. I was hoping you’d help me convince him tonight.”
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Nafīsah Salmān laughed,
I watched her patiently,
“Nafīsah Salmān, sometimes I doubt you both the Ammī and daughter are not the enemies of one another. You both are working prudently together instead.”
Nafīsah Salmān smiled cunningly,
“No, I never said that.” I replied Nafīsah Salmān gravely.
“Against Hindus?” she asked patiently.
“I never said that too.”
“Then Qāzī Jī dublé kyon? Shahar kā andéshah?”
“Nafīsah Salmān!” I admonished her.
“Sāré jahān kā dard hamāré jigar mein hai?” Nafīsah Salmān smiled reproaching me.
Yet there was immense pride too in her voice that I was her Live in Relationship Partner.
Nafīsah Salmān was lying on her magnificent nude back.
She was herself a PhD and she immediately agreed to leave Imām Muħammad Ħasan when I offered her myself instead.
“Meet my other Live in Relationship Partners. Ask them how long they are my Live in Relationship Partners. Ask them how many of my previous Live in Relationship Partners they know I have left till now.”
“Why can’t you marry me?” Nafīsah Salmān asked me keeping smiling impishly at me.
“I’m already married.”
“Do you agree to live with me?”
“You are a Hindu.”
“Why are you so much interested sexually in us Musalmān Beauties exclusively?”
“May I ask why?”
“Because mostly you Musalmān Beauties fulfill my sexual needs optimum, not the others.”
“Your sexual needs are violent wild savage animal sex?”
“Yes, something like that.”
“And you think we Musalmān Beauties only can provide you that much sex you need?”
“Not only, mostly had I said.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, it’s my own experience.”
“You have sex with all sorts of women?”
“Almost.” I smiled.
“And you think only we Musalmān Beauties suit you optimum?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“My husband says you are a Bachhalyā.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, I am.” I smiled at Nafīsah Salmān patiently.
“My husband says Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is your duly married Brāhmañ wife.”
“I see. So he has told you that?”
“Māyāranjan Chakrvartī.” I said patiently.
I couldn’t understand what Nafīsah Salmān was leading me to.
Yet, I wanted to find out myself, very much.”
Nevertheless, I deliberately changed the subject.
What I really wanted to find out could wait.
It was not a good strategy to let one find out what I wanted to find out from her/him.
It could alert her/him making my target more difficult.
“Why do you, Ammī and daughter both, call Dig Vijay Singh, the former Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh D.P. Choohā?”
Nafīsah Salmān retorted scornfully,
In the matter, not even her mastermind daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was any different from her.
Both the Ammī and daughter were almost identical in everything almost.
The only one difference they had was ideological.
Being ultra-modern even to the extent she loved to be my Live in Relationship Partner instead of the duly married wife of Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān still valued the privacy in sex and hated incest very much.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was deliberately adamant to have sex with me openly in public too.
She was proud of displaying to everyone that she was my permanent Live in Relationship Partner.
“Dig Vijay Singh, the former Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh , D.P. Choohā, thinks he can fool us Musalmīn forever by terming Hindus too terrorists as many of we Musalmīn are. He never understood we Musalmīn think it’s the greatest disgrace, greatest insult of us Musalmīn as well as of Islam too.”
I kissed Nafīsah Salmān on her lips passionately,
“You are right, Nafīsah Salmān.”
“The greatest mistake the anti–Hindus almost always do is that they portray every Musalmān is an anti–Hindu. They refuse to understand that the Musalmīn who deliberately rejected the two nation theory of Pakistani Muslim League and deliberately opted not to leave India ever are not anti–Hindus neither they were so ever.”
Nafīsah Salmān wrapped her nude white Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān legs around my nude Hindu waist with all her feminine might to pull my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Saůūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān Cunt as deepest as she could.
“You really mean it, Durgesh. Don’t you, my darling?”
“You shouldn’t ever, Nafīsah Salmān darling.” I smiled lovingly to her, “if the anti–Hindus really didn’t believe that most of the Indian Musalmīn are not anti–Hindus neither they ever were they never trying always to widen the ideological gap between Hindus and Musalmīn. Dig Vijay Singh, the former Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh is also one of them anti–Hindus who want to keep Indian Musalmīn frightened of Hindus.”***
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam