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
A few moments passed, and I began the awkward process of helping her off the table.
My member slipped from her lips and she automatically clinched herself in response, seemingly missing my presence.
She smiled again, and this time I saw it.
I grinned back.
She was more propped by me than anything, and I helped her over to the living room, where we both collapsed onto the sofa.
I kissed her softly but repeatedly at her cheek and lips, and she managed a few kisses in return.
Arundhatī Joshī and I didn’t really talk.
We just quietly recovered together.
Eventually, she told me she had to go on to bed.
We both climbed the stairs together.
At the top of the stairs, we faced each other.
It was dark.
It was quiet.
I brought her into my arms, and we embraced.
I could feel her exhale completely in my arms and press into me.
She could feel my strong arms wrap and cuddle her.
She eased back from me.
She had to go to her bedroom.
I looked down at her, and her face started to mine.
Our lips met and neither held back.
We kissed deeply.
When we finally parted, we both smiled to one another.
We said goodnight.*
Arundhatī Joshī awoke groggily.
She struggled to orient, as she could sense something was happening to her.
She started understanding there was a rocking motion in the bed.
Even though at first she was dazed, she realized there was movement at her vagina.
She felt sex there.
Was she dreaming?
She almost spoke my name, but she then gathered that she was in her own bed and in her room.
She searched for her bearings.
As she thought and looked around, it hit her.
She was on her side and the pushing was coming from behind her.
It was Vinod Sharmā.
It was Saturday morning, and Vinod Sharmā had entered her and was having sex with her.
Arundhatī Joshī fought the initial impulse to stop him.
Then, she worried inwardly for a response.
She was shocked and just speechless.
As she started to speak over her shoulder to Vinod Sharmā, she heard him grunt heavily.
He stiffened and she knew instantly what this meant.
He climaxed intensely.
He had gotten off strongly, she concluded.
But, she found herself much less than thrilled.
Right away, she felt guilty knowing why she wasn’t thrilled.
First, it was because it had mostly happened unbeknownst to her.
Mostly though, there was a guilt.
It wasn’t I there with her, nor the excitement she felt for me.
Vinod Sharmā stroked at her hair.
“Wow. That was great.”
She didn’t move or speak.
His voice had been shaky before.
Vinod Sharmā caught his breath and tried to compose himself better.
He had not acted as he intended.
He awoke with an erection, and he immediately had become concerned about keeping it.
It wasn’t her fault, but he simply did not feel the attraction or desire that he once had for her years ago.
He had felt to her first, thinking he’d stimulate her awake, and then he had touched wetness at her lips.
He had thought her already aroused.
When he had put himself to her to rub her, he had pushed on into her and started.
“I got carried away.” He tried to explain.
She just nodded back without words spoken.
Vinod Sharmā cuddled her, and he brushed at her hair.
“You are a beautiful and special woman.” he resolved to make things better even if it meant getting some kind of prescription. “I may not always show it, but I do appreciate you.”
Arundhatī Joshī was absolutely stunned.
She reached a hand over her shoulder to him and squeezed at him.
He started breathing heavier and in moments he was snoring.
Arundhatī Joshī‘s mind started reeling.
As much as she hated to think it, she knew she wished he hadn’t said those things.
Could he sense she was drifting away from him?
Is this why on this morning, of all times, he had decided to share like that with her.
He never did that.
When she was sure he was sleeping again, she slipped from the bed.
She went downstairs to make coffee, have a cup and clear her head.
What a weekend.
In a hungover and emotional fog, Arundhatī Joshī rummaged about in the kitchen, made coffee and sat down with a cup.
It was hard to know where to begin with sorting this out.
A couple of things she was certain about.
First, she was crazy and stupid to permit what had happened with me.
There was no understating just how wrong and unintelligent her choices had been.
But just as clear to her was how she felt.
She felt deeply and convincingly emotional for me and excited by me.
Any number of thoughts, from Friday night’s party to Saturday morning to Saturday night, showed her how much she cared about me.
As she sat there, she knew she felt such a love for me.
She squeezed her eyes and released them at her next thought, as she regretted just how truly she also felt about me as a man.
From her looking to me when we kissed Friday night to when she first surrendered to me in bed Saturday morning, there was no denying that she thought of me now as a man.
And, as so very wrong as it was, she thought of me as a lover.
I had brought feelings and sensations from within her she could not ever having remembered felt.
I aroused her, thrilled her, and consumed her.
Our time together and the way I had been with her had combined to make her feel something she had never felt to this extent.
The feeling included intense desire.
I made her feel that she wanted me badly and needed me.
And not just emotionally, but she needed to feel me physically and to make love to me.
Arundhatī Joshī felt at her core a need to give herself to me.
She had not ever felt this way.
She briefly wondered whether she didn’t need to just break away from both of the men in the house and try to ascertain her thoughts more objectively.
The things she was thinking were so unusual and extraordinary that perhaps she just needed time.
She smirked wondering if she even wanted to be away from me in order to decide.
Arundhatī Joshī looked up startled from her thoughts, seeing me pop into the kitchen.
She beamed when she saw how very happy I was to see her there.
She couldn’t help but show how happy she was to see me too.
“Good morning,” she said it in a low full voice.
Her face glowed.
I came straight up to where she was sitting, and I bent to where I could hug her.
I kissed her deeply and passionately.
After some passionate deep kissing, she pulled back.
“Wait, wait.” She stopped me.
I was standing next to where she was seated and I was very aroused.
I started dragging at my shorts, and she gave quick shakes of her head, indicating ‘no’.
It didn’t slow me in the least.
My hand drew my penis from my shorts in front of her face, and when she realized just what I was doing, she visibly tightened.
“Wait Durgesh, I don’t know. We should talk.”
I figured she was just acting coy, much like the night before.
I held my thick Bachhalyā erection in her face.
“No, not right now, Durgesh,” she said it pleadingly, conveying perhaps that the choice was mine.
I grinned down at her, and she gave me a torn look back.
She dropped her view to my hand.
I was fully engorged and there at her face.
There was a wanton aspect of it being right in front of her like that.
I edged my fist just a bit up and then just barely back, and she watched intently.
Her face didn’t move to avoid me, but her eyes looked back to me questioningly.
“Aw, c’mon.” My tone made her seem unfair. “Are you serious? Are you going to leave me this way?”
My hand tilted her face to me and I bent and kissed her again.
She watched my face as I stood back straight, and I told her,
I brought my cock in my hand and I put it to her lips.
Once more she tried to pull back, but I cradled her cheek and lodged its Bachhalyā thickness at her Joshī Brāhmañ lips. … She opened her beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth to me while looking in my Bachhalyā male eyes.
She reluctantly started to suck on me and move her head.
She felt my combined hardness and smoothness, and she started to react between her legs.
After a few more moments, the dynamic shifted.
It went from my urging to instead her moving her mouth on me.
Her head swayed and her mouth and lips massaged at my thick Bachhalyā cock.
We both knew she was getting more into it.
Much more into it.
‘How can I be this excited again? Is this really because of me?’ She asked herself as she felt both our urgency.
Soon I was groaning continuously, and she was humming.
Naughtily, Arundhatī Joshī anticipated what it’d feel like when I started releasing into her mouth.
She drifted a hand between her legs and started feverishly stroking there.
“WHAT?” The word is screamed and Arundhatī Joshī cannot understand at first what has happened.
She saw Vinod Sharmā standing with his face flushed and eyes wide.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” “WH… .”
She yanked her head back and I started frantically trying to pull my shorts up.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I was desperately saying to Vinod Sharmā, and everything seemed to slow down to Arundhatī Joshī as it unfolded.
It was almost as if she were witnessing something she was not actually present at.
The sequence was deliberate and surreal.
Vinod Sharmā grabbed his head with both hands and screamed.
He looked over to the counter where the kitchen knives were at, and then looked straight at me.
I shouted, “No, no, no,” as Vinod Sharmā started lunging to where the knives were.
Suddenly, I moved toward the counter, too.
Before I can take a second step though, I froze in place.
My stopping in place riveted Arundhatī Joshī‘s attention back to Vinod Sharmā.
Vinod Sharmā had reached the counter, but unnaturally he ricocheted off the counter and collapsed to the floor.
When he laid out on the floor, he was staring straight up and he was clutching the left side of his chest.
He coughed and choked, and just as suddenly as he had started, hd completely stopped.
Then, he lay there motionless.
“CALL 911! CALL 911!” Arundhatī Joshī heard me shouting it, but she couldn’t move.
She saw his eyes, and she knew he was gone.
She also knew she would never, ever get that sight of him, and what she had caused, out of her mind.
The next several days blurred by, and she could barely function, rarely talked, and just felt deadened to an extent.
The authorities did inquire, and she told the truth.
Of course, it all made sense.
She and Vinod Sharmā had had sex earlier that morning, and they had drank most of the weekend.
She didn’t see it coming, and she absolutely couldn’t believe he died of a massive heart attack on their kitchen floor.
Everyone felt sympathy for her.
Everyone saw that she was beside herself, apparently from such grief.
She had told the truth alright, but she didn’t tell the whole truth.
There was nothing asked about she and me.
There was nothing to ask since everyone knew we were friends, and both had suddenly lost Vinod Sharmā.
So, there was no mention made of the fact that Vinod Sharmā had heard strange sounds coming from the kitchen that morning.
It was never told how he hurried down the stairs, already concerned as he feared someone must have been hurt from the kind of sounds he was hearing.
He had rushed into the doorway of the kitchen, and it had been as if he had struck a horrible wall that stopped him in his tracks.
There he saw his wife and me.
At first, I looked like I wasn’t the matter, because I was standing straight and seemed animated.
Everything changed when he focused to where his wife was seated at our kitchen table.
She was sitting facing our table and angled to where Vinod Sharmā was standing, but Arundhatī Joshī‘s shoulders and face was turned to her left side.
Her right hand appeared to be in her lap, and her right hand was clasping at something.
Positioned very close to her left side was my torso and waist.
Vinod Sharmā had fixed his attention to his beautiful wife’s face.
Her mouth was open and her lips wrapped a thick and erect ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund that was pumping urgently between her Joshī Brāhmañ lips.
One look was all it took to show Arundhatī Joshī was moving her face towards me as fervently as my hips were bucking into her face.
Her expression was one of exquisite pleasure.
There was an onslaught of friends and family around in the days between Vinod Sharmā’s death and his funeral.
Everyone was very supportive.
The entire time passed as a flash to Arundhatī Joshī.
Then, just as suddenly as the friends and family had gathered, it seemed they quickly dispersed.
By the time of the evening after Vinod Sharmā’s funeral, the house had cleared out.
The house was still and quiet, and Arundhatī Joshī and I decided we had to go have dinner to decompress.
Arundhatī Joshī did most of the talking.
She spoke in a detached and halting manner, as if trying to explain to herself and to me.
I heard beneath her words a desperate coping of sorts.
“It was a lapse to be sure, a horrible and terrible lapse, but a lapse.” She had sounded scared but also as if warming to her justification as well.
She sat close to me and spoke quietly.
“No one meant for him to die. …”
I considered whether maybe it was just a way for her to carry on.
I tried my best to assure her.
Neither of us had wanted this or even imagined this.
It was a horrible, horrible accident.
That night after dinner, we returned home, and we both decided to turn in early.
We found ourselves standing upstairs in the hallway awkwardly starting to say goodnight.
She looked at me directly and asked evenly,
“Why don’t you stay with me tonight?”
I looked a little surprised and even tentative.
“Um, I don’t know. Are you sure?”
She gave a couple of quick nods of her head.
And with that, I ambled into her bedroom with her.
I felt an unsteadiness with the day that we had endured.
I saw her go into the bathroom, and I decided I’d just be present and go with however she felt.
I stripped to my boxers and I climbed into the bed.
I was lying there, bare chested and sitting propped up somewhat when she came out of the bathroom.
She saw me there in bed, and she stopped.
We looked at each other, and I wondered whether maybe I had misunderstood and somehow shouldn’t be there after all.
I found myself very concerned.
“Uh, is this okay?” My voice sounded very worried and doubtful, and Arundhatī Joshī relaxed her face into a smile.
She moved slowly to the bed in a night shirt that covered almost to her knees.
“Yes. Yes, it is.” She ran a hand through her hair, and she got into bed and to my surprise she curled up next to me.
“I am so glad you are here. I need you tonight.”
I kissed the top of her head which she had put at my chest, and I stroked at her hair.
“I’m glad you want me here.”
“Listen, I know this is weird. It is.” She moved a hand to my chest and her fingers drew circles on my bare flesh there. “But I want you to understand. I’m feeling so very fragile right now, you know?”
“Yeah, sure.” My voice was low.
“I’m sure you are too.” She kept her fingers at my skin.
“Yeah, I am. I guess I’m still numb.”
“Me too. Very.” She sounded like she was about to cry as she squeezed out her next words. “I just hope you don’t hate me.”
I immediately reached to her face and opened it to me.
She had lines of tears that had started and the eyes of someone utterly unguarded.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I consoled in as calming a voice as I could muster, “don’t even think that. Not for a second. I wouldn’t ever hate you. I couldn’t ever hate you.”
I went to her face and kissed her fully.
I pulled her into a hug to my chest.
She hugged me back.
We kept our embrace and she eased back with me as my torso had to go back for support, our position at first too strained to keep.
We ended up with her half over onto me.
She put a hand on my chest and looked into my eyes.
“I love you, Durgesh.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“I love you, too.”
When I said it, her face perked and I saw her eyes dart about my face, but mostly at my eyes and mouth.
She drew a breath and then she leaned to me, kissing me gently but fully on my lips.
I kissed back, but when she didn’t pull away, I was a little surprised that she was being affectionate this way.
I was awestruck when she used her lips to open mine, and she moved her tongue to mine.
She kissed me passionately, and it was completely unexpected by me.
The feel of her lips and tongue, together with her increasing movements at my mouth, stirred me against all better judgment.
I just couldn’t help it.
As we continued kissing, she shifted to try to get better positioned atop me, and when her leg moved over my waist, she felt a certain, unmistakable hardness.
She broke our kiss, but didn’t move far from my face with hers.
She continued her leg on over me, but rather than just lay against me, she moved her entire body astride me.
She stared into my face as I watched her lower to my waist.
I tried hard not to react when I felt her at my skin.
Because she was sitting higher up on me from our kissing, her crotch met my skin at my stomach.
It was obvious by the feel of her that she wasn’t wearing anything under the night shirt.
She shifted just a bit, and then I felt the slightly prickly stick of pubic hair and the unique slickness of her natural moisture.
She moved her hips barely, and I wondered if it was intended to make sure I felt her dampness.
She seemed to watch for a reaction from me, but I didn’t reveal one.
“I am feeling so raw right now.” She said it in a loud whisper and it sounded dramatic.
Her feet seemed to tuck closer to my sides where she was straddling me, and she raised herself on her arms that went to each side of my head.
She closed her eyes briefly and then half opened them.
“Is it okay if I tell you I need you right now?” She still whispered.
I nodded slowly and noticed her full lips staying parted.
Her half closed eyes and slightly opened lips finally conveyed to me that she was actually very aroused.
She may have meant emotionally she needed me, but it didn’t seem like that was all, I now understood.
I reached up to her arms and I moved them to my chest, where each of her hands came to rest up on my skin.
She closed her eyes again and I watched her gulp.
She opened them to see my eyes as she shifted her weight onto her left hand at my chest.
She lifted the right hand and she brought it down our bodies between us.
When her hand reached my boxers and deftly entered inside, my face no longer stayed expressionless.
I furrowed my brow and gave a wince, as she took me engorged into the opening between us.
She opened her mouth wide as if to react with me and she made the slightest of grins, knowing she had affected me so.
Then, she looked at me intently as she said more.
“Two things.” She breathed the words.
My reply was fast. “Yes!”
She stared deep into me and spoke her request slowly and seriously. “I want you inside me, and… I want you to keep your eyes with mine. Okay?”
She backed downward toward me, and we kept fixed on one another.
She held me steady between us as she placed her hips where she wanted them.
When my head mashed to her lips, we both shook.
“AH!” I exclaimed as I felt her rotate her hips.
Our eyes stayed, and there was an intensity to it that surprised me and excited me, seeing her every reaction and expression.
Poised there, she surprised me yet again when she reached to her shirt and shed it off herself, exposing her breasts and hardened nipples to me.
My hands immediately went to them and clutched them, as I watched her own eyes almost close shut with the sensation of my hands squeezing and manipulating her full bare flesh.
I still marveled at her large, thick nipples, but I felt them and rubbed them rather than look to them.
When she started moving again, her face changed expression from a stillness to more and more emotion and contortion, as she was forcing herself down on me.
She fought to keep her eyes to mine, and I saw how she showed the change she felt as I went deeper into her.
Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a silent ‘oh’ as she wiggled herself and pushed.
I struggled to keep my eyes on hers, as she rested her weight on her hands on my chest but moved her hips more and more.
She was getting more used to me, and it enabled her to get more into it.
She was raising and lowering herself, and each time her face reacted in some way to the sensations inside her.
She squatted more onto me and her head tilted back somewhat, but her eyes stayed level with mine.
Her eye brows arched and her face expressed what looked like pain when she went even further down on me.
She felt a plunging of me into her that filled her fully.
“UUUUNNNNNGHHHHHHH! Ungh, ungh, ungh!” She was loud with her grunting coming from within her throat.
I started to buck with my hips but didn’t.
I wanted to see what she would do on her own.
“C’mon,” I urged her on.
She made an inner squealing-kind of sound at my prompting her like I was, and I grinned at her.
She drew her lips together, batted her eyes and then sucked in a breath, as she appeared to ready herself for different motion.
I kept her full breasts in my hands and squeezed up, mashing them to her and evoking a pant from her.
She brought her head just down and looked at me as if she were boiling, and I felt her hips jerk.
I grunted my own reaction when I felt her beginning a back and forth sway with her hips.
The feeling was so different and unexpected that I arched my back and wondered if I’d explode just from that.
She saw she had affected me strongly and it incited her.
She furrowed her brow, grew intense with her stare to me, and she picked up her pace.
I was astonished.
She was working her hips back and forth with my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund buried deeply in her, and she was panting with her effort.
Arundhatī Joshī was riding me.
Her hips bucked at me hungrily.
I moaned at her exertion.
My getting overwhelmed thrilled her, and she tried to go even harder on me.
We were both getting louder with throaty noises back and forth.
There was no doubt to either of us now that she was full on fucking me.
She kept her pace, but she eased backward some, giving herself more of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund inside her, and this was all it took.
Her Joshī Brāhmañ thrusts on me and her willingness to sit down on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund while she was riding me together shoved me over the edge.
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” I screamed and shook with an orgasm that washed over me with repeated contractions. “Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK me, Arundhatī Joshī!!!”
As my face looked frantic and delirious to her with my extended climax, she felt herself succumb and come with as much intensity as she could ever remember having had before.
Her mouth fell open, and her bottom lip quivered, as she felt my kicking and releasing together with her own spasms deep within her.
We both panted and tried to catch our breath.
She eased forward and lower upon me, softly collapsing, and as she did, her full breasts met my still heaving chest and pressed me.
She brought her lips to mine, and we again kissed for a while.
Soon, her head rested at my chest, and we both lay spent.
Arundhatī Joshī was still straddling me, and I was still halfway enmeshed into her.
“That was unreal.” My voice was low and disbelieving. “You were so… good.”
“I loved it.”
She traced a finger around one of my nipples as she pondered a moment.
Then, she moved her head a bit to see me as she said softly her thought.
I grinned back.
“I will fuck you whenever you want, Durgesh.”
I grinned even more and kissed at the top of her head.
She put her head back to my chest.
“I mean it.”
We stayed in a heap for several more moments before we finally thought to move again.
I had to go to the bathroom, and we very carefully disengaged from one another.
She watched me get out of bed, and as I walked towards the bathroom, she couldn’t resist staring at me.
Even flaccid, I hung down between my legs heavily, and it swayed with my steps.
I turned back and caught her looking, and she smiled sheepishly.
When she turned onto her back, her thighs rubbed, and the clear sensation of wetness was coated where both of our juices had gone onto her thighs.
She self-consciously reached there, and she felt about.
She couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was me.
She withdrew her hand as I came back to bed and to her.
We wrapped into each other, and while she started to talk to me more, I was soon snoring away. She sighed and smiled to herself and let herself drift to sleep as well.
The next morning the two of us quietly and somberly prepared, and went to see the lawyer.
There wasn’t much said or really to be said.
As we traveled to the office, Arundhatī Joshī thought over again how she had answered what was asked of her by others.
She had essentially answered the truth asked of her, but she carried that weight of the whole story.
I and Arundhatī Joshī knew the whole truth, and that was more intimate knowledge we both shared with each other and no one else.
We both sat together listening to Vinod Sharmā’s friend and lawyer.
During the meeting with the lawyer, I tried to act friendly and talkative, but it was as if Arundhatī Joshī was still dysfunctional.
She was quiet and still numb, it seemed.
She did muster one reaction though.
There was an emotional outburst that was part laugh and part sob at a disclosure the lawyer made to the both of us.
The lawyer described it professionally and gently, but there was the sense that I had hoped the revelation would provide whatever comfort that it could.
The lawyer was meeting with us to talk about Vinod Sharmā’s estate.
There were several details to cover.
But significantly, I wanted Arundhatī Joshī to know there was at least one thing she didn’t have to worry about any more.
Vinod Sharmā had left three separate life insurance policies, and Arundhatī Joshī was the sole beneficiary of all three policies.
Arundhatī Joshī was going to receive three million dollars.
There was only one condition however.
Arundhatī Joshī smiled and fulfilled the last wish of her husband.
That was what she herself was dying for.
Her late husband had actually gifted her everything she needed immensely.
Three million dollars and me.
Arundhatī Joshī never needed anything else.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
She drifted down to her knees.
She brought her hands to my jeans, and as she undid them and worked the zipper, she glanced back up to see the utter pleasant shock on my face.
She pulled my engorged Bachhalyā shaft from my jeans and the thickness again amazed her.
Her fist worked around me and she stroked at me.
She hadn’t felt this emboldened, or this invigorated, in years, she knew.
She glanced up.
“Do you want this?” Her voice was meek but clear.
“Yeah!” My response was quick and sure.
We both chuckled.
We both knew she was shocking me with this, but we both also knew she was liking doing this and being shocking.
She kissed my head again, and as I moaned and looked down at her, she opened her mouth wide, pushing it down over my head and to where several inches went into her extremely beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth.
She started sucking at me fervently, with her small fist pumping away at my length.
Her cheeks were reacting with each stroke of me she made.
I wasn’t going to last long and we both knew it.
I gripped her hair in my hands, and I started showing that I was close.
I narrowed my eyes and my brow tensed.
A sudden familiar sound startled us both.
The grinding sound of the garage door sliding open reverberated.
She flashed a panicked look at me.
“Hey, hey, hey! That’s Vinod!” Arundhatī Joshī snapped.
Much to my pleasant shock again, she didn’t even slow.
She just kept looking back at me and pumping me into her mouth.
A car door slammed, yet my face never twisted even a bit with concern.
“We have to stop.” I urged.
The kitchen door opened downstairs and swung closed.
“Honey, I’m home.” Vinod Sharmā’s voice called out from downstairs.
Arundhatī Joshī still did not take me out of her mouth, and now I seemed to be pulling at her hair.
My eyes gave a look like I was surrendering to something within me.
We could both hear Vinod Sharmā at the foot of the stairs, and I spasmed violently, exploding into Arundhatī Joshī‘s mouth.
My body contorted and a third spray released.
Arundhatī Joshī gazed up at me with half-closed eyes.
Steps could be heard making their way up the staircase, and Arundhatī Joshī let my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund pop out of her extremely beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth.
I worked my jeans up and started fastening them.
I looked at Arundhatī Joshī, and she looked unsteady on her feet as she gave me a mischievous smirk and wiped at her mouth with two fingers.
Vinod Sharmā could be heard getting to the top of the stairs, and I watched Arundhatī Joshī dab the two fingers between her lips, licking them clean.
I watched in utter pleasant shock, as Arundhatī Joshī opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hall.
I stood at my door and watched Arundhatī Joshī go the few feet to where Vinod Sharmā was heading into their bedroom.
“Hey honey,” Arundhatī Joshī said to Vinod Sharmā, as she tilted Vinod Sharmā’s face towards hers.
Arundhatī Joshī planted a big, full kiss on Vinod Sharmā before Vinod Sharmā walked on into their bedroom.
I stood looking at Arundhatī Joshī pleasantly dumbfounded, as she looked back to me before joining her husband in their bedroom.
She pointed to my jeans and then made an up and down motion with her fingers.
I looked down to see what she was referring to, and I then realized my jeans were unzipped.
I looked up and back at Arundhatī Joshī, who smiled brightly to me before ducking into the bedroom.
After the tumultuous Saturday, we all went to dinner together.
Vinod Sharmā drove, and Arundhatī Joshī was in the passenger seat, while I quietly rode in the back seat.
Vinod Sharmā talked golf, as Arundhatī Joshī peered out the window.
She felt a swirl of different emotions about the last two days.
She especially felt regret at having pulled the stunt she did just earlier, when she had gone up and kissed Vinod Sharmā once he got home.
That was stupid and wrong.
She rationalized it to herself by thinking about how elated she had felt at finally having had passionate sex with me, after years of her and Vinod Sharmā barely touching.
Even though it was with me, which was a whole other set of problems itself, it was still not justification for having done something so devious.
She swore to herself she would make it up to me.
The car was almost to the restaurant as she was also shocked, as well as delighted, that she had even let herself do some of the things she had done.
Sure, she had fantasized about different acts or such, but she had never really been a daring partner.
Not at all.
To have done the things she had in the last two days simply shocked her.
As we pulled to the valet, she flipped her vanity mirror down to adjust her makeup.
She used the opportunity to look in the mirror to the backseat at me.
I was looking ahead and clearly fixed in my own thoughts.
She felt jarring guilt.
She felt the guilt for having been the way she was at the party with me, and then she wrestled maddening guilt at the notion of having had sex with me.
Maybe she was going insane, she thought.
But just as she had already done in her previous reflections on the day, where she had kicked and thrashed herself inside for having had sex with me, her thoughts at once went to the both of us together.
It was like she looked at me in two totally different ways.
She knew she had to have some malady, she figured, but she looked at me as a Bachhalyā on one hand, and on another, she viewed me as this ever young, virile man.
She further justified clearly I was experienced with even Brāhmañ women already.
I had not been an unwitting victim, she believed.
I had pursued her, just as she had accepted my advances.
She also repeatedly thought of herself as pathetic in a way.
She could no longer claim to be a good friend’s wife.
She could never claim this ever again.
Plus, it was likely she had unalterably changed her relationship with me to where there would be at least some negative consequences.
All of these rational thoughts replayed in her head, but as if on cue, her focus shifted.
She stood, straightened her skirt and looked over at me who was also standing and looking over at her with a grin.
Yes, it was all of those things alright, but she still felt the way she did.
She loved me, and… well, she wanted me.
She felt a chill as we all went into the restaurant.
She held her head up, but she gave it a small shake in bewilderment.
All appeared calm and collected, but as we walked in together, she did so with the knowledge that her exchanged glance with me had made her wet.*
At our table, all the three of us soon were downing drinks.
Of course, I juices only.
Vinod Sharmā had his first of probably many Scotch and waters.
Arundhatī Joshī ordered her favorite Chardonnay, and I stuck with my usual juices.
There was a comfortable atmosphere despite the morning’s confrontation, as Vinod Sharmā and I talked up the football games going on for the weekend.
Arundhatī Joshī didn’t really join in the conversation, but she didn’t really mind either.
She took a devious enjoyment in sitting back and observing us.
Vinod Sharmā spoke as he understood I was conditioned to do, and that was authoritatively.
He’d learned long ago to think and feel confidently and it had served him well.
Plus, I was his friend.
He felt good speaking to me with assuredness.
Of course, Vinod Sharmā knew what the games meant for the teams involved, and Vinod Sharmā felt good about my view of who would do well.
I delighted in sharing this with me.
I had always felt there was an inconsistency with how interested my friend was in even talking to me.
He’d soak this up, even if at times Vinod Sharmā seemed kind of… smug.
I smiled to my friend and nodded.
I also occasionally stole looks at my friend’s wife.
I was amazed.
I saw this composed, elegant young woman, the same image I had observed for years.
But now, I also saw this young woman who looked just slightly steeled to where she was avoiding the visibility of layers that shouldn’t be seen.
One layer was a restlessness that contained an appetite.
This was a layer she didn’t want detected.
It was a layer that made her incredibly more interesting and desirable to me now.
For herself, Arundhatī Joshī wondered how these guys could care so much about such a meaningless thing as the football games.
Her glass never left her hand as she savored each drink of the white wine.
She couldn’t help but marvel somewhat at me, as I showed absolutely no discomfort or inhibition at the table at all.
Here I had just spent some of the day betraying my friend as severely as I could, and I seemed utterly unfazed.
She choked at her wine as she realized the exact same thing could be said of herself.
Both men looked concernedly over to her, and she waved us off.
We resumed our conversation effortlessly, as she resumed her thoughts on my lack of concern as well as her own.
In her mind, she and I just cared for each other deeply.
It was so intense that it was like we were compelled to show it physically, she told herself.
And, she concluded that this must explain my ease with the situation as well.
After a couple of more drinks and the appetizer, Arundhatī Joshī found herself looking more and more at me.
When I’d return her look, I gazed back with a look Arundhatī Joshī adored.
It was a cute but desirous look as well.
It was hard for her to believe, but exactly what she wanted.
She admonished herself that she needed to be careful, but part of her didn’t care.
She made herself participate more in some of our talk, but she started feeling that Vinod Sharmā was just acting too… smug.
It agitated her somewhat.
During the meal, Vinod Sharmā took stock of the evening and felt a sense of contentment.
I liked and admired his wife, regardless of whether he still found her desirable.
Their comfort and security with one another was one of the best things he valued.
As far as his other needs went, he had solved that issue some time back.
Just like on this particular Saturday, his routine was golf with buddies.
He inwardly grinned knowing his Saturday routine also always included the stop by his favorite massage therapist on the way home.
There was that hour of alone time and relaxation that always culminated in the young Musalmān woman finishing his massage in a delirious release that left him sated.
This never failed to calm him and make Saturday evening that much more enjoyable, knowing his every need had been met.
This evening was no different.*
The car ride home from the restaurant was quiet and subdued.
Everyone had eaten well and had enjoyed drinks throughout the evening.
Everyone was also lost in his/her own thoughts.
Once home, Vinod Sharmā and Arundhatī Joshī made their way straight to the kitchen for night caps to take upstairs to bed.
I went to my room to change into a t-shirt and gym shorts.
I was looking forward to watching the end of the football game on TV.
Arundhatī Joshī followed Vinod Sharmā back upstairs, and she found herself excited with an idea she’d come to over the course of the evening.
She changed clothes into a nice teddy while Vinod Sharmā readied himself for bed in the bathroom.
This would be her chance to make things right with Vinod Sharmā, she figured.
Vinod Sharmā stepped out of the bathroom and directed himself straight to the bed.
Pulling back the covers, he heard Arundhatī Joshī speak to me from where she was standing across from him before getting into the bed herself.
He saw the black teddy and grinned.
“Hey baby,” she purred and she tried to give a sly grin.
Vinod Sharmā chuckled.
He continued pulling himself into bed.
Arundhatī Joshī slipped under the covers beside him.
She slid over to him, and he felt himself brace as she did.
“Sweetheart, you look great,” they both knew there was a ‘but’ coming.
“I’m really beat tonight, you know? I mean, we partied last night. I played golf all day. Then, all the drinks and food tonight. I got to get some sleep, that’s all.”
Arundhatī Joshī patted at her hair trying to seem unaffected.
“Hey, I understand. Don’t worry. I can help you get to sleep, you know?” Her hand went to his side and rubbed him.
Vinod Sharmā shifted in bed, effectively moving from her.
“Tell you what, let’s hold that idea till in the morning. We’ll do just that. I’m beat tonight.”
Arundhatī Joshī flopped over onto her back on her side of the bed. She stared dejectedly up at the ceiling.
Then, she popped out of bed, shrugging off the nightie and pulling on her satin robe.
“I’m going downstairs for a drink.”
She pulled the door loudly shut, as she stormed from the room.
She tugged the robe tightly to her body, and she tried to compose herself as she descended the stairs.
Incredibly, she had gone from feeling buoyant and bright to weak and insecure in Vinod Sharmā’s swift rejection of her.
Just calm down, she told herself.
Propped on the sofa and engrossed in the football game, I noticeably brightened when she entered the living room.
Arundhatī Joshī beamed right back at me.
She was very grateful for my reaction.
“Hey,” she looked at me, then the TV and back at me.
“How are you doing?” I asked with a warmness in my tone.
“I’m okay.” She sat in a chair facing the sofa and she tried to show interest in what I was watching. “Who’s winning?”
I answered, but it was completely lost on her.
She nodded absently and acted like she was watching along with me.
I went about trying to explain to her how the pro football teams played Saturday night games when December rolled around, when they typically would not previously in the season.
Arundhatī Joshī listened and looked at me, but she didn’t seem genuinely interested in the subject, only in holding my attention.
I grinned appreciatively at her.
Arundhatī Joshī stood and walked to the kitchen.
She went to refresh her glass, knowing full well she should stop and leave well enough alone. There was a haze from the night’s indulgence that she was aware of and decided to continue to fuel.
She drank her wine and paced a couple of steps in the kitchen.
She found herself standing in front of the sink where a large clear window overlooked their back yard.
Arundhatī Joshī stared longingly out the window.
Her thoughts jumped around.
She could make out her reflection very well in the clean glass of the window.
She saw a younger woman that she wondered about.
She had this self-image, but she wondered now whether it fit.
She doubted her looks any more, and now she began doubting even her own judgment.
Hadn’t she made a huge mistake?
What could she be thinking, having these feelings about me?
Was she just desperate?
Was she just starved?
She drank more of the wine from her glass, and she gave an answer at least to the last question.
After the day she just experienced, she recognized that she had been missing a lot.
It was just the truth.
And, if she was being really honest with herself, the affection, and the sex, was still a need for her.
An important need, she admitted.
Against her better judgment, she thought about me and our time.
She took a deep breath as she thought about how I was and how I had made her feel.
She had to admit I had made her feel like she hadn’t in a very long time, if ever.
She silently stirred at how very well I had been with her.
Then, as if on cue, I materialized in the reflection of the window, and she saw I was now standing there behind her.
At first, neither of us spoke, even though we both acknowledged each other in the reflection with our looks to each other.
The tension was palpable.
Here she was downstairs with me.
She had come downstairs, leaving Vinod Sharmā upstairs in bed asleep.
She had come downstairs and found me here. And… She had stayed.
Arundhatī Joshī studied her glass for a moment and swirled it about. “Is the game still on?”
“What’s the score now?”
“I don’t care any more.”
She smiled at me in the reflection. “Good answer.”
I looked at her intensely.
“Why aren’t you in there watching it?” There was a hint of challenge in her tone.
“Because you’re in here.”
She chuckled at this. “Mmmmmm, even better answer.”
She pulled a long taste of her wine.
Then, as if thinking better of our banter, she added, “You should go back to your game.”
“I don’t want to.” My hands went to her arms and traced up.
I started massaging her shoulders, and she seemed a little surprised.
At first, she tried hard to act indifferent.
She seemed to resist showing any reaction.
This was what she should do.
“Well, you should.” Her tone was thin and unconvincing.
I brought my hands back down her arms, and I leaned much closer to her.
She saw in the window how my head moved closer to her own.
“We can’t be that way again.” She said it quietly. Resignedly.
I opened my hands wide and went from her arms to her sides still massaging her.
She closed her eyes at my touch.
“You’re crazy. This is wrong.” She was even quieter than before.
No conviction was behind the words.
My hands glided wide over her belly and she wavered as she watched my hands on her, mentally noting how wide my hands were.
Her belly felt on fire from me.
She then felt me press to her from behind, my body was solid and straight.
There was definitely a bulge down there, too.
“Please… stop.” She was completely unconvincing and her words flat.
I paused like I might stop.
She froze in place.
A moment passed where she seemed to think.
She reached out and put her drink down, then reached with her hands to me.
We both saw me smile in the reflection.
“You are such a beautiful woman.”
“I wish that was true.”
“Of course it’s true.”
I put my hands to the satin belt of her robe and I waited letting her see what I was doing.
My hands drew a line over the belt out in each direction and back again, as her hands followed atop mine.
Her hands lightly gripped me, as if to discourage me.
We watched the material of her robe crease as the hands went up.
“I should go to bed.” She said it like she was commenting about someone else.
Her hands stayed at my arms as my hands reached to trace at the satin of the robe high on her chest.
I pressed at her robe, and she felt the lines I made over her breasts underneath, before going on to circle her chest with motions that went around the points of her robe where her nipples tented it.
My fingers rubbed the satin against her so that her nipples felt the satin press them and then release.
Impossibly, I was making them harder and more pointed with my caresses there.
She drew a sharp breath at my motions, and I lowered my face and spoke softly into her ear.
“Do you want to go to bed? Is that what you want?”
She raised her arms to put her hands in my hair up and behind her.
With this I dipped my head and started kissing her neck and over onto her shoulder.
She sighed and whispered.
I continued to kiss and lick her shoulders.
She clenched her eyes and opened them to see my hands pull the part of her robe where it crossed at her chest.
I just tugged it apart.
The robes’ sides backed away from each other, and the bare skin of her chest displayed in full view of the both of us.
Her breasts hung openly and fully, bottomed with the protruding pointed nipples I had teased when they were covered.
My hands came to them and held them, lifting just slightly.
Her entire body swooned a little at what I had done to her, as she acted unsteady.
Looking at her, I said more in her ear.
“You don’t want to go to bed, do you?”
There was a muffled sound from her.
I straightened my stance, and her head rested more back against my chest but still gazed forward at our reflection.
My hands moved again.
One swipe at the belt finished unleashing it, and my hands pressed at the open hips that appeared.
My left hand stayed pressed to her hip, and my right hand crossed her skin at her waist.
“AHHHHHHHH!” She exclaimed at my entry.
As if reflexively, she brought her hips backwards.
I pushed back at her and held.
“Oh, Durgesh!” She yelped at me.
I couldn’t believe how wet and hot she felt to my touch.
Overcome with her reaction, I brought my left arm under around her waist.
I maneuvered her around and away from the counter.
I had her wrapped in my arm and my hand holding her, as I physically brought her across the room to the kitchen table.
I forced her to the table, her back still to me, and pinned her there.
In one swift push, I had her bent over the table.
Her hands went out by her sides and braced herself.
She didn’t pull back up or slide in either direction away.
I saw no resistance from her at all.
I hovered over where I was rendering her bent over the table.
She slumped in a sprawl right in front of me.
We both heard her take a sharp gasp, when I flipped her robe up over her back from behind.
The next sound was a soft cry from her.
The gym shorts easily lowered to release my full erection.
I slid a foot of hers sideways, leaving her legs spread wide and further flattening her onto the table.
My left hand left her back where I had first thought I might have to hold her, and it went between her legs.
She reeled from my left hand reaching to her crotch and manipulating her there, fingers prying at her and opening her.
She felt lightheaded from the surprising physicality of it all, and she twitched anxiously under me.
With her lips worked open, a thick plunge pushed her forward and her upper body traveled up the surface of the table.
Desperately, she gripped to brace herself, as her body lifted impaled and defenseless.
Waves of tingling charges and profound pleasure washed over her, as she felt her helplessness at my Bachhalyā thrusts.
Her mouth fell open but silent, and her head tilted up and forward.
I was working at her and pushing. Vigorously.
“UUNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!” The moaning came from her throat as I pumped at her.
Arundhatī Joshī couldn’t believe how hard and thick I felt pistoning in and out of her, and she writhed uncontrollably.
I felt as hard and excited as I could ever remember being, with her lying out below me and my having my way deep inside her.
Her body jerked about with each pump from me.
My balls felt heavy right away and I wondered how long I could last.
Arundhatī Joshī shook her head back and forth and relished the fullness of me there.
She had never been taken as thoroughly as this.
Lightness and more spasms shot through her as she struggled to contain herself from screaming loudly.
She was bucking more and more as yet another orgasm rocked her.
As she shook violently, I was set off into my own.
Seeing her body shake as it did pushed me over the edge, and I grunted and shot into her.
I pushed and made a grinding effort at her as though I was seeking some finish even deeper within her.
With my hips forward and my back hunched I slowed to a stop.
Arundhatī Joshī still had her hips elevated and was impaled on me as she tried to catch her breath and her emotions.
Her chest was mashed to the table top and her palms were flat on it.
She let her head softly ease to rest on the table’s surface as well.
She at once thought of how she must have looked at me.
Her legs were spread lewdly.
She even felt her cheeks at her bottom open given the width of her legs being apart.
Her entire upper torso and arms were still pushed forward and the robe dangled about in disarray.
She had to have looked ravished.
Nevertheless, when she thought of how I even still felt to her, lodged within, and how exquisitely taken every part of her felt, she couldn’t suppress a big smile.
I had wildly fucked her.
Durgesh was always right.
It was an art.
And Durgesh was the only master of this art.
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 seemed to be sticking with just a couple of the other men.
Arundhatī Joshī didn’t understand why it was that he didn’t move about or use this party as the occasion to mingle.
These were people they’d mostly known a good while, and she thought it best he be friendly and more open.
This holiday party was one of the social events Arundhatī Joshī always looked forward to.
She had picked out her form-fitting black dress weeks before, and her black heels were her favorites.
She liked especially when her friends noticed her choices, and she in turn appreciated theirs.
A couple of her friends were even very complimentary to her this year.
One had been so flattering as to compare her to the actress Anne Archer, and the way the actress had looked in a popular movie from years ago.
Arundhatī Joshī was guardedly aware of the comparison but didn’t say much about. She did take good care of herself, and she thought her bright eyes and full lips did accentuate whatever appeal she carried.
At 5’5″ and 120 pounds, she worked out regularly and ate carefully.
Arundhatī Joshī was proud she had maintained herself as she had.
This was regardless of whatever popular comparison was made of her to an actress.
A few minutes after nine o’clock, Arundhatī Joshī was near the front entrance of the clubhouse when she heard a newcomer being welcomed inside.
Her attention was piqued when she heard that deep, distinctive voice.
She’d recognize that voice anywhere, she knew.
She stepped quickly around a hall to the front entrance and then she let out a shriek.
“Heeyyyyyy!” She exclaimed upon seeing me.
My face brightened into a beaming smile, and I instantly embraced her.
“Hey, Arundhatī Joshī!” I answered as excitedly back to her as she had done with me. We hugged each other tightly, and those around us all smiled at our joy in seeing each other.
Arundhatī Joshī pulled back to look at me, and she talked of how I had already seemed to change.
We continued to hold onto each other as we quickly talked and started catching up.
After a few minutes, she took me by the arm.
Arundhatī Joshī ushered me on into the party and started showing me around.
Her first stop was with my friend, and while we may not have shown quite the excitement that Arundhatī Joshī and I had, it was still clear to her that Vinod Sharmā was glad to see me, their only friend in need.
Arundhatī Joshī slowly drifted back.
Shhe let me see others and mingle on my own.
She kept a watchful eye, as I easily roamed around seeing others just as effortlessly as she always managed.
She of course attributed that to herself and not to my more socially stunted and reserved friend, Vinod Sharmā.
Arundhatī Joshī also, for probably the first time, took notice of just what a man I was.
I clearly seemed more mature and more grown than she could ever remember seeing before.
I stood up straight and tall, always an imposing figure to her.
I had kept lean and athletic, and I was certainly handsome, making Arundhatī Joshī reassured that I was popular with the girls back at everywhere.
A friend of Arundhatī Joshī‘s ambled beside her and also looked over to me.
“Wow, Arundhatī Joshī. He’s really utmost handsome still at his Sixty Six even, you know?”
Arundhatī Joshī couldn’t get out a spoken response, and the truth was that she was probably a little oft put by having a friend of hers make such an adult comment about her husband’s friend.
Arundhatī Joshī just shrugged, but the friend offered more.
“I mean, he’s really the stud they claim.”
Arundhatī Joshī half-turned to her friend and playfully slapped at her.
Arundhatī Joshī gasped at the remark and they both snickered.
But as Arundhatī Joshī turned her attention back to me, she did exactly as the friend had suggested and she took in my arms and hands.
They appeared strong even at my Sixty Six and noticeably so.
Arundhatī Joshī mentally examined my hands and she felt a queasiness inside, as it registered with her that her friend had perceived correctly.
My hands did look more handsome than normal.
She turned back to her friend and she wondered if her friend had watched her eye me.
They just chuckled to one another, and they went for another drink.
Arundhatī Joshī didn’t know if the wandering observation meant she needed more to drink or whether it signaled she should stop.
It took but an instant for her to conclude that it meant for her to have another one.
As the evening wore on, she enjoyed her friends and neighbors, and she kept her glass refilled.
She felt such an excitement and happiness that she also replenished her husband’s glass as well.
She knew she was getting buzzed, but she also knew this was one of the few parties she really let herself relax at.
Besides, we were just a short walk from home.
During the party, she kept an eye on her husband, and she tried to see for herself just how much I actually did socialize.
She found herself regretting that he didn’t seem to try harder socially.
She believed that he would get more out of things like this party if he just put more effort into it.
Much to her tipsied surprise, she also found herself keeping an eye on me.
She liked how I did make the effort, and she was sure that I and she were so very alike at how we were both so social.
More than once, she found herself just watching me.
A couple of times, I caught her watching me, too.
I would just smile over at her and give some gesture.
Whether a small wave or a knowing nod, I never failed to acknowledge her.
Arundhatī Joshī felt an unusual mix of pride in me, together with a new-found appreciation for what an impressive ever young man I had become.
She wondered if I must have overnight reached this age where I was such a man.
She partially understood her take of me was influenced by the alcohol, and she warned herself to slow it down.
Arundhatī Joshī made her way carefully to the kitchen, and she poured the remaining drink she had into the sink.
She went to rest against the counter when she was pleasantly surprised by me moving right up next to her.
“Hey lady,” I smiled to her as if we shared a secret and she found herself feeling charmed by me. “Have you been a good girl this year?”
I openly laughed, and she did, too.
Arundhatī Joshī felt herself practically blushing and she let herself imagine I was almost flirting with her.
“Well, unfortunately, yes. I have.”
We laughed more at her playing along, and she shook her head at me.
She was definitely feeling the lightness from the wine when one of the guests in the kitchen chuckled and pointed towards her.
The few guests in the kitchen looked above Arundhatī Joshī‘s head and looked back down at her again, all of them smiling at what they’d seen.
Arundhatī Joshī was perplexed at first, and she looked overhead to see what they were looking at.
She found herself looking right up at a twig of mistletoe.
She looked back down and then over next to her.
She looked up at me, and when I grinned back at her, she just kept looking up to me.
Without really thinking why, she knew she was looking at me too long.
She was sure she was confounding me by putting me on the spot with herself under the mistletoe, but I surprised her right back.
It was like I didn’t miss a beat in answering her gesture of looking to me when I moved to her and took Arundhatī Joshī into my own arms.
I let it linger briefly, and she heard a couple of people reacting with ‘ahhhs’.
As soon as I pulled back, Arundhatī Joshī decided she wouldn’t be outdone.
This time Arundhatī Joshī lingered and she was surprised when I didn’t pull right away.
Was it romance?
Was Arundhatī Joshī in love with me, her husband’s friend?
When I did break our connection, Arundhatī Joshī felt an exuberant rush she didn’t expect.
She pulled my face back, and gave another quick kiss.
This seemed to challenge me, and amid some audible reactions from the guests who were watching, I kissed her right back and a bit more urgently.
My tongue was there and urgent itself, and it was the sounds of louder reactions from the other guests that finally prompted Arundhatī Joshī to release me.
We both laughed.
She knew her face was flush with the craziness of what had happened.
The other guests were buzzing in the background, but all she could do was look at me and quietly shake her head in amazement.
I smiled broadly.
Arundhatī Joshī took a long, confident pull on her drink.
She could only stare at me openly and feel a giddiness.
Without saying anything more, Arundhatī Joshī headed over to the hallway.
She was still dazed as she made her way to the stairs and headed to a bathroom.
I had certainly surprised her.
She figured she had surprised me, too.
Arundhatī Joshī was still feeling a lightness from her kisses with me, as she freshened herself in the upstairs bathroom before coming out.
She checked her hair and make-up in the mirror, and she was pleasantly amused when she realized she had to re-apply her lipstick.
She was incredulous that she was using more lipstick because of kissing me.
She chuckled to herself as she carefully dabbed at her full lips with the red gloss.
When she was contented with her composed look once more, she opened the door and started back out to the party.
As she got into the hall she flinched as she came directly in front of me.
I was standing right in front of her and grinning down at her.
She started grinning right back, and she drew a sharp intake of breath when I took her by the arm and pulled her into an adjoining room.
I closed the door behind us where we were then alone.
She felt shock as I was once again bringing my face to hers, and she shocked herself when she decided to just go with what I did.
I was kissing her again, and this time it was I who was opening my mouth to hers.
My tongue entered her mouth and wrestled with hers, and she started pulling back from me, only to feel me stay on her mouth. She felt herself relent to my kiss.
She felt the same giddiness she had started to feel in the kitchen only this time it was intensified.
The feel of me and the complete surprise of it caused her to stand there and just receive my forceful, full kiss.
She brought a hand to my chest and she was about to press it to my chest when I took her hand.
She felt my mouth move fervently on her own, and she thought I was about to break the kiss since she’d brought her hand up. Instead, she felt me move her hand.
I brought it down, and in a one smooth motion it went right on top of my Bachhalyā crotch.
Arundhatī Joshī immediately tensed and she shrieked into my mouth.
She pulled at her hand to bring it away, but I kept it pressed to me.
My tongue worked about in her mouth, and she felt herself instinctively react.
Arundhatī Joshī squeezed at me there and held it, deliberately now, entirely unashamed of herself.
Hey Bhagvān! God, Arundhatī Joshī never knew she loved me as her man so much.
She never knew.
She never knew.
Yet the proof was there.
She then felt my hand go quickly up under her dress and between her legs.
She absolutely could not believe I had my hand on her panties and was feeling her there.
As if the reality came in a jolt, she knew to stop.
“No,” she snapped, “no.” She yanked my hand from between her legs.
She looked to me and my face looked intense where I was clearly aroused and focused on her.
She smiled and shook her head.
I managed a smirk back.
She pushed to my side and escaped out the door, looking back over her shoulder to me as she moved away.
She wished she hadn’t been grinning as she was, but she couldn’t help it.
I grinned back as I watched her drift off to other females at the party.*
It wasn’t much longer before the three of us left the clubhouse and walked the couple of blocks home.
We arrived home.
It was as if Vinod Sharmā couldn’t wait to make it upstairs and collapse onto the bed.
Arundhatī Joshī noticed me stealing glances her way repeatedly, no doubt emboldened by what had happened between us.
As Vinod Sharmā started climbing the stairs, I looked at her once again as she went to follow Vinod Sharmā to bed.
She looked back at me, and there was a conspiratorial smile between Arundhatī Joshī and me.
When she kept going up the stairs to follow Vinod Sharmā to bed, I fell along behind them to climb up the stairs.
The three of us marched up the stairs.
We got upstairs.
Vinod Sharmā and Arundhatī Joshī started in one direction with me going the other.
We said our good nights.
Arundhatī Joshī again looked to a grinning me and shook her head as if in disbelief.
I kept her look as she went into the bedroom with Vinod Sharmā.
Arundhatī Joshī hadn’t yet started to undress and she felt compelled to say something to me.
She wasn’t sure what exactly, but as she gave Vinod Sharmā time to undress and ready himself for bed, she decided to go and speak to me.
Vinod Sharmā was falling into bed and into a certain stupor when she told him she’d be right back.
She mentally gathered herself to comfort me and tried to compose her thoughts as she went down the hallway.
A mix of feelings swirled within her, as she knew she had to be the authoritative voice of reason, but yet she was also still enjoying the playful side of whatever was going on.
She got to my bedroom door and she took a deep breath.
Usually, she might knock first, but she decided just to let herself in.
She quietly pushed the door open and slipped just inside.
She closed it back, but she didn’t move further, staying where she was leaning back against the door.
When she entered, I turned to her from where I was across the room.
We both froze and stared at each other.
I was in a t-shirt and boxers, and she managed to stay focused on my face.
“Hey.” She said meekly, when she had intended to come across as authoritative.
“Hey,” I responded and my voice sounded deep and rich to her.
Her mouth parted to say something, but at first no words came.
She instantly knew she’d made a mistake.
She surprised even herself at feeling so disinclined to act firmly with me.
“Um, I’m not sure what happened back there,” she started but I interrupted her, sounding clearly more certain than her.
“You’re not?” I sounded disbelieving her.
I crossed my arms and leaned back Imyself this time, using a desk in my room to prop against.
“No, um,” she hated sounding so unsteady as she heard her words come slowly.
Then, against better judgment, she let her eyes look downward and we surveyed my barely clad body.
Her eyes noted the thin boxers I had on, and there was a large, considerable lump in the middle of them.
She looked quickly back up to my face, but I was grinning appreciatively at her apparent interest.
She shook her head and tried to change her tone.
“I was out of line tonight. …”
“It was both of us who felt what we did.”
“Well, we shouldn’t have done that.” She sounded a bit more firm and resolved, she figured.
I seemed to relax my stance just a bit, as my arms unfolded and I simply put them at my sides.
I softened the look on my face and spoke as if to reassure her.
“It’s okay. Really it is. We were both into it, you know?”
Arundhatī Joshī stood more forward and the concern now came through in her voice.
“Durgesh, no. No, it’s not okay. For goodness sake, I’m your friend’s wife. And… I’m married after all.”
She immediately regretted she’d added such an obvious fact, but she was feeling shaken by my attitude about this.
I leaned just forward, too.
I looked at her caringly and spoke softly as if trying to calm her. “Hey, we are both adults. And… .”
I paused and we both were aware she hung on my words for my thought.
I continued in a slightly more hushed tone.
“And we both liked it.” I grinned.
She closed her eyes at my saying that aloud, and then looked back at me and replied.
“Well, we got carried away with all the alcohol and all. But nothing like that can happen again.” She said it in a gentle way and with a slight smile, and she started opening the door to leave.
She had the door ajar, but had yet to leave, when my movement gave her pause.
She looked to me, and I was stripping my t-shirt away.
I let it slip to the floor and then I stood straight, facing directly at her.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
There were lots of crazy parties with women who wanted to have sex with me.
I hooked up with a bunch of them.
I’m not dating anybody seriously.
I really just wanted to concentrate on getting good women.
Although, I loved going to frat parties and certainly enjoyed loose women.
I was going to be spending the summer with my friend and his wife in Florida for the summer.
I was really looking forward to sleeping late, hanging by the pool, long soaks in the hot tub, and fun in the sun at the beach.
I didn’t plan on doing anything other than those things.
My friend would be out of town for the first month that I’ll be home.
He was doing volunteer work in Africa.
My friend was a wealthy man.
He owned ten car dealerships here in Florida.
He didn’t really work much these days.
He was more of a philanthropist.
He had always wanted to do work in Africa.
They were building a new hospital and he wanted to be involved with it.
He did say he’d make it up to me when he gets home.
Of course, Lajjā Mukherjī, his wife, would be home.
Lajjā Mukherjī was my friend’s little princess.
She didn’t do a damn thing.
I guess with her body and her looks she really didn’t have to do much.
I guess she was a trophy wife.
I wouldn’t mind having her on my arm.
She was a knockout.
Lajjā Mukherjī was thirty years old and my friend was sixty.
He really gets a kick out of her.
He treated her like his little prized Barbie doll.
I think he really gets off by it.
He bought her anything she wanted and even plastic surgery if she wanted that too.
I knew he had her breasts done, not sure she had any other work.
I often wonder if she cheated on my friend.
I didn’t know if she would.
She had a really wonderful life and I was sure she’d never want to fuck that up.
All she had to do is just look good.
She didn’t clean or cook.
He has people to do that for them.
She just had to always look like an absolute doll.
He must fuck her a lot.
I bet he popped Viagra all damn day to keep up with her.
I haven’t seen her since last summer, but Lajjā Mukherjī really makes my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund hard.
She was very fit and always going to yoga classes.
Lajjā Mukherjī was 5’8″ and she had long blond hair, which she always put in an elastic band.
She had blue eyes and the longest legs.
Her breast implants were about a 38D.
My friend loved for her to wear very skimpy clothing.
My pants always get a little tight when looking at her body.
Lajjā Mukherjī was quite the flirt and loved to get a reaction out of people.
She loved me to want her.
It’s a whole little act that she does.
I really didn’t know if she’d really want to cheat, but I guess if my friend wasn’t around she might.
I guess time would tell.
I just arrived at the airport.
I walked over to the check-in desk and showed them my boarding pass and my airline ticket.
I checked my luggage and then proceeded to the security area.
After I was cleared, I then went to a coffee shop in the airport and bought a coffee and a magazine for the trip.
As I was waiting for the announcement to board our plane, I had noticed a lot of attractive women who were traveling alone.
Some of them were dressed to kill and I was hoping that I’d be lucky enough to sit next to one of them.
After about an hour, they finally made the announcement to board the plane.
All the passengers started to walk onto the plane.
Once inside the plane, I went to the overhead compartment and put my bag up inside the storage area.
My seat was by the window. I sat down and got myself comfortable.
I was pretty excited, one of the attracting looking babes sat down next to me.
She was really hot.
She had on a very short black dress.
She had enormous tits.
She was a blonde with blue eyes and she was really leggy.
She was really in great shape.
I knew this would be a fun trip.
I was already starting to get hard in my jeans.
It wasn’t a terribly crowded flight.
Thankfully, nobody else sat in the row.
It was just her and myself.
“Hey, I am Sudhā Pandyā.”
“Nice to meet you. I am Durgesh.”
“I am so glad to sit next to a hunk.”
“I am glad to be sitting next to a goddess.”
“You’re very sweet. I like you.”
We giggled and we put on our seat belts.
The stewardesses went over the safety instructions and then we were getting ready to take off.
The plane then got up into the air without any problems.
The stewardesses started to come around with the drink carts.
We were in the middle of the plane.
Sudhā Pandyā‘s dress was too tight.
She had huge breasts.
I’d say she was 38D, kind of like Lajjā Mukherjī.
I was really hoping to have some fun with this babe in the air.
I was definitely wanting to fuck her and be part of the mile high club.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Nobody steady. I go to college at the University of Alaska as an honorary Professor of Psychology. I was going to be staying at my friend’s for the summer.”
“That sounds lovely. I also go to the University of Alaska. I’ve never seen you there. In the fall, it’ll be my last year. I probably would continue and get my master’s degree. Nowadays, it seems you need to have that type of a degree.”
“I just finished up teaching my first year. We’ll have to exchange numbers so we can go out sometime. I’d love to see you again.”
“That would be really great. It’s nice to have interesting and gorgeous friends.”
Sudhā Pandyā put her hands on my thigh and she whispered into my ear.
“You’re really hot. I am so horny. Do you want to have some fun?”
I smiled at her with a wicked grin.
It was almost like she was reading my mind.
With that, she stood up and got a blanket out of the compartment storage.
She sat down and moved her dress up.
She wasn’t wearing any panties.
She spread her legs and put the blanket over her lap.
She was one slutty bitch.
I fucked her.
Sudhā Pandyā was so wet.
I was so horny and needed to fuck her.
She was moaning softly.
I could see her erect nipples showing through her dress.
She obviously was not wearing a bra.
I whispered in her ear.
“Go into the bathroom. I am going to fuck you. I’ll follow you in.”
“Thanks,” Sudhā Pandyā too whispered in my ear.
It was dangerous to her future.
The safe bet was only to have sex with me.
Sudhā Pandyā didn’t want to lose this golden chance.
She deliberately did it.
She had put detectives on me.
As soon as Sudhā Pandyā was informed that I was on the plane she successfully managed her seat beside me.
No more Brāhmañ husband.
Sudhā Pandyā had now enough of it.
He suddenly found himself suffering from his false arrest.
Barrister Kamal Nayan Pandyā looked at his daughter curtly.
“Leave him, Sudhā. Let Manohar live. The sooner you leave Manohar, the sooner he would come out of jail.”
“I love him.” Sudhā Pandyā protested.
“You are ruining Manohar, and yourself too.”
Barrister Kamal Nayan Pandyā said sternly.
“You are killing Manohar Pāŧhak. He has already been sentenced to death penalty.”
Sudhā Pandyā surrendered.
She refused to marry Manohar Pāŧhak.
Within a week Manohar Pāŧhak was out of jail and the real culprit was apprehended.
He suddenly found himself suffering from nonstop negative circumstances.
Sudhā Pandyā left him too.
Prem Prakāsh Chaturvedī married her friend, Shakīlah Sultān, and gone abroad.
I was Sudhā Pandyā’s third effort.
She then pulled her dress down and walked into the bathroom.
I shortly followed her and she let me in.
Once inside of the very small bathroom, we kissed deep and passionately.
Our tongues danced in each other’s mouth.
She took off her dress, I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet.
She put my cock at the entrance to her cunt and eased down on my cock.
Her cunt was so fucking wet.
I put my hands around her enormous tits and held them in my hands.
I squeezed them together and played with her hard nipples.
She put her hands on her knees and fucked my cock.
Her pussy felt so fucking good.
I bucked up inside her pussy.
“Hey Bhagvān! Oh God. I was so horny. You have the best cock. Come inside of me.” Sudhā Pandyā invited me.
I was fucking her fast.
I knew we didn’t have much time.
She then stood up and wiped the come with some toilet paper.
We kissed deep and passionately and I helped her put her dress back on.
I pulled my pants back up and she walked back to her seat.
I took a piss and then met her back on our seats.
I sat down and she had the biggest smile on her face.
“That was so hot. You have an amazing Bachhalyā cock. Thank you.”
“No problem. You’re a hot little fuck aren’t you? Do you do this a lot?”
“That was my first time. I always wanted to have sex in a plane. Thanks.”
“I had a blast. You’re one sexy babe. Hot Damn!”
I was pretty happy that we had fucked.
We exchanged numbers and agreed we’d get together once we were back.
She was just going to be visiting Florida for a few days and then she’d be back on a plane to New York for the summer.
She had gotten an internship at some fashion company.
We eventually landed and got off the plane and went through security.
I went to baggage claim to collect my bags.
I then saw Lajjā Mukherjī.
I couldn’t believe what she was wearing.
She looked so fucking hot.
She had on this little denim skirt, with a red tube top, and heels.
Her nipples were poking out of her tube top.
“Durgesh, over here!”
“Hey, Lajjā Mukherjī? How are you doing?”
I gave Lajjā Mukherjī a hug and a kiss.
She of course felt my erection in my jeans.
I just knew this was going to be an interesting day.
“You look great. You’ve really filled out. You must have been hitting the gym at college. You’ve turned into quite a handsome and strapping ever young man.”
“Lajjā Mukherjī, you’re not much older.”
We both giggled.
I was thinking she was the hottest wife on the planet.
She really could be my girlfriend.
My friend was one lucky guy.
“Let’s go home. I have a limo waiting for us.”
We walked out and got into the limo.
Lajjā Mukherjī looked amazing.
I was feeling really good since I just fucked Sudhā Pandyā in the bathroom.
But, looking at Lajjā Mukherjī was making me feel horny again.
“How is college going?”
“It was a great year.”
“That’s excellent. Your friend would be very pleased.” Lajjā Mukherjī smiled, “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Nobody serious. Just lots of girls wanting to hook up. I was happy.”
“I bet you’re happy.”
“You look great, Lajjā Mukherjī.”
“Do you want some champagne? Open the bottle. Let’s celebrate.”
“What are we celebrating?”
I popped the champagne and poured Lajjā Mukherjī a flute of it.
“To a wonderful summer.”
We clicked glasses and she drank the bubbly champagne.
She had about three glasses.
I saw that Lajjā Mukherjī had shut her eyes.
I was just glancing over her hot body.
Eventually, we got home.
I followed Lajjā Mukherjī into the house.
“I was going to unpack and then take a shower. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I called some of my friends to come over and take a swim. I think you’ll like them. See you later. Come down and hang out with us by the pool.”
I went upstairs and unpacked.
I then went into the shower.
While I was in there, I was thinking about Lajjā Mukherjī.
I continued washing my body and then I got out of the shower.
I wrapped a fluffy towel around myself and put my swimming trunks on.
I went downstairs and went outside.
Lajjā Mukherjī and her two friends were hanging out in the hot tub.
They were drinking and laughing and having a great time.
The sun was shining it was a rather warm day.
“Nice to meet you ladies.”
“You didn’t tell us how gorgeous he is.”
“I haven’t seen him in a while. He was very tasty looking.”
“Why didn’t you sit in the tub with us?”
“You must take your bathing suit off. We’re all naked in here.”
I took my bathing suit off and got into the water.
I was pretty stoked that I was in a hot tub with three gorgeous young ladies.
I sat next to Lajjā Mukherjī and she immediately put her hand on my Bachhalyā cock.
She was stroking me.
One of her friends was on the other side and she was playing with my balls.
It didn’t take any time whatsoever for me to get hard.
I had a raging hard on.
Now I just needed to get fucked.
Any of them would do.
“You know we could really have some fun today, Durgesh. Your friend lets me have sex when he is out of town. Usually with my girlfriends. We just won’t tell him that you and I are having sex. We’re not related anyhow. I have always wanted to have sex with you.”
“I am totally for it. Let’s do it. I won’t tell my friend a damn thing.”
“Do you want to fuck us, Durgesh?”
“Fuck yes. I’ll fuck you all. Hop on my Bachhalyā cock. Who wanted to be first?”
Lajjā Mukherjī hopped up on me in the hot tub.
She put her legs on either side of mine.
She made sure to get it all inside of her and then started to rock and move over my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.
She was really tight.
I started to buck up inside of her.
I was squeezing on her erect Brāhmañ nipples, while we were fucking.
“Let us too fuck him.”
“You can fuck him later. He is mine right now.”
I was fucking her deep and hard.
“I am going to come. Oh fuck. I am coming.”
We kissed deep and passionately and then she hopped off me.
“Let’s take Durgesh inside. We can all suck his cock and he can lick our pussies.”
Lajjā Mukherjī laughed.
Then Smr’ti Kulkarñī asked.
“What do you mean?”
“We can suck Durgesh’s ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund as much as we want. But Durgesh would never lick our pussies.”
Ābhā Upādhyāý was furious.
“Why not? We are Brāhmañ girls. We are the most cleanest of all of women.”
“‘Brahmcharyéñ kanyā yuvānam vindaté patim’, what does it mean then?”
Lajjā Mukherjī smiled.
“That’s the problem. Traditional Brāhmañs don’t have any Vedic background for what they are doing now.”
“Are you changing your denomination now? You are talking as if you already belong to Durgesh’s Saur Sampradāý, instead of our Brāhm Sampradāý.”
Lajjā Mukherjī smiled.
Smr’ti Kulkarñī said curtly.
“What’s there to be proud of? Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī herself announced we Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs both need a Bachhalyā husband. She rejected a Brāhmañ husband outright for us Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs even. They are most unreliable for us. They can surrender to Celibacy anytime. They can choose to Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat and opt for severities for Muslimāt. That’s what this damn Infinite BrāhmKalp is.”
We all got out of the hot tub.
Lajjā Mukherjī’s friends were all knock outs.
They all were blondes and all had implants.
I’d say they all had 38D tits.
They were all thin with blue eyes and bodies to die for.
I was pretty excited that these traditional Brāhmañ bitches were going to suck on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund now.
I have a seven inch cock. I keep my cock and balls shaved. Smr’ti Kulkarñī and Ābhā Upādhyāý held my hand and I followed Lajjā Mukherjī into the house.
We went upstairs to her bedroom.
“I’ll ride his face and you traditional Brāhmañ girls can suck his ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund. I want to feel my husband’s Bachhalyā friend’s Bachhalyā male lips on my Communist traditional Brāhmañ snatch.”
I got comfortable on the bed.
Lajjā Mukherjī stood up on either side of my head and squatted down.
She had the prettiest cunt ever.
Each traditional Brāhmañ young lady sucked on one of my balls.
They both were on either side of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund. Smr’ti Kulkarñī kissed and licked my Bachhalyā shaft on the left and Ābhā Upādhyāý did the same on the right side.
Smr’ti Kulkarñī was holding my one ball and sucking the other one.
It felt like heaven.
“Let me suck him now.”
Ābhā Upādhyāý took my cock out of her mouth and then Smr’ti Kulkarñī started to suck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.
She brought her Kulkarñī Mahñrāshŧrian Brāhmañ mouth all the way down on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and then all the way back up.
Smr’ti Kulkarñī really did the most amazing blow jobs.
Ābhā Upādhyāý was sucking on both of my Bachhalyā balls.
Ābhā Upādhyāý then got on top of me.
She rocked and moved on my stiff ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund. Smr’ti Kulkarñī hoped up on my face and I kissed and loved her beautiful Deshasth Brāhmañ Choot.
Ābhā Upādhyāý was fucking me really good.
Lajjā Mukherjī then pulled out my cock.
She rubbed some lube on Ābhā Upādhyāý’s Upādhyāý Brāhmañ ass and slid my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund into her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ ass.
Lajjā Mukherjī held Ābhā Upādhyāý’s ass and I fucked her.
Ābhā Upādhyāý started to orgasm around my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and then I blew my load in her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot.
“Well that was lots of fun.”
“Fucking yes. It was a ball.”
I think we’re going to have an amazing summer. I think you’ll be our permanent boy toy now.
“How does that sound?”
“It sounds like a dream. I’d love to fuck you beautiful traditional Brāhmañ ladies whenever you want. I was sure it’ll be an awesome summer. Hell, I’ll feel like Charlie and his angels. Remember that silly show?”
We all giggled.
Lajjā Mukherjī went to take a shower and got ready for bed.
I went to my room, watched some television and eventually fell asleep.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
Coasting to a stop in front of the house, Nishikānt Joshī was surprised to see his wife’s Green Mercedes parked in the driveway.
Urmi Upādhyāý had found work as a teller in a branch office of a big downtown bank a couple of years ago.
She was a hard worker and had already received a number of pay raises.
The hours were okay. Urmi Upādhyāý only had to work half-days on Saturday, and even that only one in four weekends.
This Saturday wasn’t on her schedule, though, and today wasn’t her day off even if it had been.
Nishikānt Joshī didn’t know why Urmi Upādhyāý was home.
It concerned him because it was so out of character for her.
He walked quickly around the side of the house and in through the kitchen door.
The door hinges were well lubricated.
After all, Nishikānt Joshī was a building contractor.
It was a matter of professional pride to make sure small repairs around the house were taken care of immediately.
Everything was well maintained.
He liked things that way.
He hated squeaks, drawers that didn’t open, windows that didn’t close right…things like that drove Nishikānt Joshī crazy.
Neither the screen door nor the kitchen door itself made any perceptible noise when Nishikānt Joshī opened them.
The couple he could see through the doorway into the living room ostensibly wouldn’t have heard Nishikānt Joshī anyway.
Urmi Upādhyāý and I were too involved with each other.
Nishikānt Joshī froze in his tracks when he saw Urmi Upādhyāý and me.
He’d never contemplated seeing his wife in my arms, even kissing me.
And he’d surely never thought to see me cupping Urmi Upādhyāý’s bare right breast and working the nipple to a dark red erection with a rapidly moving thumb.
Urmi Upādhyāý was naked to the waist.
Nishikānt Joshī saw her blouse and bra draped across the couch just beyond her.
Her partial nakedness said the hand job was only a preliminary.
She brought her hand up to my chest and ground her lower body against mine.
“Was it worth the wait?” she asked seductively.
A red-hot fury engulfed Nishikānt Joshī.
He didn’t think; he couldn’t.
He could only react.
One moment he was frozen in shock.
With his next heartbeat, he was moving swiftly forward, striding purposefully through the kitchen and partway into the living room.
Planting his left foot solidly on the carpet, he brought his right one up in a tight arc that ended in my crotch.
At the last moment, I sensed something behind me…a whisper of Nishikānt Joshī’s shoes on the carpet perhaps, or his looming presence.
She probably wouldn’t have been hurt if I’d kept still.
It was only the steel-reinforced tip of the boot that slammed into Nishikānt Joshī’s butt but it was more than enough.
Sensitive nerve endings fired instantly, sending simultaneous pain signals to Nishikānt Joshī’s badly confused brain.
For a long moment Nishikānt Joshī didn’t have any breath to scream.
It had been driven from his body by the sudden intense pain in Nishikānt Joshī’s abdomen.
Nishikānt Joshī stumbled against the sofa and clung to it for an instant.
Her normally pleasant features were twisted into a rictus of tormented rage.
She’d been planning to do further damage to Nishikānt Joshī in front of me but it was abruptly clear nothing more was required.
Nishikānt Joshī began to scream in a high-pitched voice that filled the room.
He collapsed to the floor and began to writhe in agony.
The excruciating pain was overwhelming, worthy of the Marquis de Sade’s most inventive tortures.
Nishikānt Joshī was unable to do anything but scream so piercingly he was close to rupturing his vocal cord.
Nevertheless, Nishikānt Joshī saw his wife’s breasts bounce wildly on her chest as her body jerked uncontrollably.
Her lower body was exposed, though covered by her pantyhose. He could see her palms pressed tightly against her vulva.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund was still jutting obscenely, yet still immensely attractive from my zipper.
There hadn’t been enough time for the blood to leave it.
The vulgar display sickened Nishikānt Joshī but something else was wrong too.
He looked down.
To his horror, he saw the bulge in his work pants.
He realized his cock was hard, perhaps harder, longer, and thicker than it had ever been before.
A deep shame overcame the anger in his mind, blanking the fury in the space between two heartbeats.
He was mortified.
His own body was betraying him.
It wasn’t possible; he was not that kind of man.
His roars, born of renewed fury and deep humiliation, blended with the agonized shrieks of himself.
It was one thing that Urmi Upādhyāý, Nishikānt Joshī’s twenty eight years old extremely beautiful Upādhyāý Brāhmañ wife and I were prepared for Nishikānt Joshī’s every potential attack already, yet it was quite another thing that his Joshī Brāhmañ penis was appreciating what Urmi Upādhyāý was doing with me.
How the hell it happened?
Does it mean in this Infinite BrāhmKalp Nishikānt Joshī’s such intense humiliation was absolutely a normal event?
Only because Nishikānt Joshī and Urmi Upādhyāý were traditional Brāhmañs and Durgesh was a Bachhalyā?
Durgesh was already fucking now the entire beautiful Brāhmañ houseladies of Nishikānt Joshī’s household.
Nishikānt Joshī had as if fallen from sky.
“Supriyā Bhābhī, you mean… you mean…”
“Yes!” Instead of Supriyā Bhārgav, Nishikānt Joshī’s elder brother, Karuñākānt Joshī, said, “Your Supriyā Bhābhī is correct, Nishikānt. You keep forgetting, it’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now. We Brāhmañs are entrusted now to greater duties.”
“Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat?” Nishikānt Joshī asked sarcastically.
“Oh,” Karuñākānt Joshī said looking at his younger brother sympathetically, “Why?”
“Anything wrong in it?” Karuñākānt Joshī asked curtly.
“You were never satisfied with Supriyā Bhābhī.” Nishikānt Joshī said bitterly, “Her sophisticated behavior was never suitable to you. You were always interested, instead, in her ultramodern beautiful Musalmān lady friends.”*
“Who are you to discuss my married life activities and my sex activities? You are my younger brother, not my wife. Hinduism/Ved never allow any houseperson to interfere in the married life of another houseperson. It’s the only practical way to keep a joint family survive with ‘Modmānau Svastakau’, ‘Modmānau Své gr’hé’.”
“I think Imām Muħammad Ħasan is one of the greatest persons of nowadays.”
“Because he has surrendered the entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies of his household to Durgesh?” Nishikānt Joshī laughed ironically, “I never thought you have fallen to this level. I’m sorry to find you too salute the rising sun to this extent.”
“Chief Justice Vishwambhar Sharmā Supreme Court Multiverse is perhaps too a cuckold in your bright opinion, Mr. Nishikānt Joshī.” Karuñākānt Joshī also laughed equally ironically, rather more ironically.*
The environment surrounding a life form whether the life form is a male or a female always needs fresh base pairs for the survival of that life form.
To fulfill this need of the environment the life form starts to have sexual need.
The more intense the need of fresh base pairs of the environment the more intense the sexual need of the life form.
He never liked it.
They were traditional Brāhmañs.
Every traditional society has some traditions out of date it’s careless to change and update itself.
The Pseudo Musalmīn were the worst example of it.
They were too adamant to keep their outdated traditions that they refused to use their common sense even if it were against their enormously outdated traditions.
To kill the other societies for one’s own survival was a tradition among then uncivilized societies once.
The Pseudo Musalmīn were foolishly still adamant to practice it, because they never tried to understand it isn’t needed anymore.
The Democracy has not only its solution but the fair competition too to the survival of the fittest system of life.*
The Infinite BrāhmKalp had started to project its time cycle.
Despite the fact that the ever last Kaliyug itself had its time cycle unfinished for as long as 4, 27, 000 years.
I understood very well it was only a generous courtesy, not any invitation, or seduction, at all.
I was the son in law of the house.
Everyone was stunned.
“Well, I think we should talk first, Shuchi.”
“That’s a very good idea, Bahūrānī.” Pragyākānt Joshī greeted the suggestion very warm heartedly.
“I can’t help, Ammī,” Shuchi Joshī smiled naughtily, “if you were a cougar once.”
“Shuchi,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “you must be ashamed of yourself for the comment on your own Ammī.”
“It’s all right, PK.” Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ smiled bravely, “Our children have different morals from me. You knew about my ultramodern morals and you married me with them. They didn’t.”
“Nevertheless, Ůzrah,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “Even if she doesn’t appreciate your morals, being a Brahmkanyā she must respect at least Imām Nārīm Sukr’té dadhāt and Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat. She isn’t a child anymore. She is twenty eight years old and a PhD now.”
“Sure,” Shuchi Joshī said, “I never criticized Ammī for her past. Nevertheless, I would never allow her past to affect my own life adversely.”*
No, he wasn’t a bad man.
That was the problem.
Their overhumanity itself was a greatest enemy of all of them.
They were good to the extent to be harmful to themselves.
“I know, Supriyā,”
Nevertheless, he couldn’t blame the traditional Brāhmañs even.
They were also normal men.
They too wanted to enjoy their married life.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
I was wildly kissing and thrashing my face in her tits and groping her gorgeous, twenty eight years old, exquisite, bottom with both my hands kneading her gorgeous, twenty eight years old, exquisite, perfectly round, firm, young, Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks.
She was lying on top of me when we finally came to be face to face, and she planted another deep kiss on me, clutching both my wrists over my head while pinning me to the bed.
She whispered in my ear,
Then, with a pregnant pause, she whispered in my other ear,
“And it’s a process of pleasure.”
Her soft voice and breath in my ears sent shivers down my spine and gave me goose flesh.
Calmed by this, I lay motionless, glad to let her lead the way.
My ego wasn’t even slightly affected.
As she kissed my neck, she caressed my arms and chest softly, barely even touching.
First it was the tongue, then a kiss, and then another little bit of tongue.
That was her technique as she worked her way down.
“Fātimaaaaaaaaaaah Jalāaaaaaaaaaaal,” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl refused violently to accept her correction, “You aren’t Ramā Bhārgav actually. Your damnfool Bhārgav Brāhmañ father, Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, calls you with that ridiculous name. You are Fātimah Jalāl. Understand? That’s how I named you.”
I felt her mouth and tongue on my ball bag.
That’s how they win ever immensely capable Bachhalyās.
I was blasted away by this!
It wasn’t that I’d never been sucked off before, but I was still under the impression that you had to work on a girl for a long time to get her to suck you.
A blow job on a first time was a foreign idea to me.
I’d always had to wait in relationships for a long time before a girl would bestow oral pleasure upon me.
My youth and my still ignorance were apparent to me even as it was happening.
Then, taking a long, slow, deep, fluid swallow, she made my manhood disappear once again.
Down, down all the way, down deep, and then holding me there for a long second.
Coming up in ultra-slow motion.
The way Ramā Bhārgav lifted my scrotum while she made long, slow passes up and down my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund did something to intensify the sensation.
Then, all at once, she started to ratchet up both the suction and speed, bobbing her beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ head more vigorously and sucking down my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund with more Bhārgav Brāhmañ energy.
“If you want to remain confined exclusively to Durgesh only, it’s all right, Fātimah Jalāl,”
As she sucked me, she began to caress and tickle the underside of my seed bag, slowly roaming to the little place where the scrotum ends.
This was a new sensation, and even my utmost experienced mind was getting in the way again.
Part of me was saying to myself internally,
“You can’t let her touch your hips! You’re a man!”
Both sides of my brain came to an agreement:
They agreed to stop her hand and the blowjob as well for fear that I might cum before I got to fuck her.
Covered in sweat, I lightly directed her head up until she took my tool out of her mouth.
She looked up with her beautiful eyes and quickly got the hint.
She arose and then lay beside me.
I turned to her and asked,
“Do you want this?” as I placed her hand on my stiff Bachhalyā member.
“Yes,” she said, never looking away from me.
“Then what shall we call it?” I teased in an attempt at sexy pillow talk.
“Your cock,” she answered in her soft alluring way.
“My pussy,” she replied.
Almost involuntarily I blurted out my first sexy talk.
Feeling relaxed and unashamed to talk sexy felt liberating and free.
In fact, I liked it and loved the fact the she was getting off hearing me say those words.
She talked right back at me.
“You, the man I fuck, are older than me when all I want is your hard, experienced Bachhalyā cock. Sure, you have money, and you can keep it! I have my own money too not to be dependent on you financially. My ever profound feminist Ammī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl, hates immensely that any of her countless daughters be ever dependent on any male whether financially or otherwise.”
“So you don’t mind that I’m sixty six now,” It was a grave question, asked equally gravely.
“No, I want to have you because you’re sixty six,” she too looked at me gravely.
Her dominant personality was taking control of me again.
No woman however beautiful she were had succeeded ever in controlling me.
Was it because I was more Shaktimān, full of Cosmic energy, than anyone of them?
“I’m twenty nine,” Ramā Bhārgav said, shifting her beautiful young Bhārgav Brāhmañ eyes toward my ever handsome ever young utmost experienced Bachhalyā hard-on and gesturing at it with her chin, “and you don’t seem to mind. Why should your age bother me? It is Infinite BrāhmKalp now. Is it not?”
I spread her thick, shapely legs.
I slid my sixty six years old, utmost experienced legendary Bachhalyā Lund into her hot, wet Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot, wrapping my arms around her for leverage, then launching myself into her as hard as I could, finishing the move with a hump and snap of my pelvis.
I would repeat this over and over till the end – A power fuck as hard and fast as I could.
The Infinite BrāhmKalp needed it.
This was hard, hot and wild sex.
It was all I knew.
It seemed to be working.
Again, in my expertise in the art of fucking, I managed to find just what she wanted.
Too instead, were trying to improve themselves constantly.
The moans and screams were nice to hear.
“You like getting fucked, don’t you!” I grunted.
Our bodies, now dripping in sweat, made a slapping sound when my hips collided with hers.
Then another series of moans and screams of passion accompanied that wonderful slapping and slurping sound our bodies made.
Now, I was in control, and she had lost her composure. She was overwhelmed with pleasure, and could not form the words to speak, only breathless moans and coos.
Wanting a change of pace, I withdrew from her and nudged her to flip over.
“I’m going to take you from behind,” I told her in my sexiest Bachhalyā tone.
The view, from behind her, was amazing.
She was facing the headboard during our doggie style romp.
After a while, without explanation, she slid forward and my tool fell out of her honey pot.
“What’s wrong?” I inquired.
“Nothing … just a second,” the words barely escaped her mouth.
She was leaning forward and reaching for something.
By the headboard, there was a nightstand with a lamp.
I thought for a second her aim was to shut or dim the lights.
Instead, she was reaching for the little knob on the drawer of the nightstand.
What she retrieved out of the drawer almost made my heart stop.
A full size tube of K-Y jelly was now in her hand, and she was handing it back to me as the moment of surprise and joy struck me like a ton of bricks.
Was this what I thought it was?
I thought I had better check first but didn’t want to scare away the moment.
Thinking quickly, I managed to play dumb:
“No!” she said, again with authority in her sultry voice. Then she uttered the words I thought I’d never hear Ramā Bhārgav say to me: “I want you to fuck me up the ass!”
I gazed upon her welcoming, sweat-soaked Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks shining like two hot buttered globes. Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, peered back at me over her shoulder, still on hands and knees while I was visually taking in the beauty of her round firm Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass and its lovely crevice, following the crevice down to the wrinkled pucker of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ asshole and her battered Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot lips, glistening and dripping with her sweet Bhārgav Brāhmañ honey.
I squeezed some K-Y on to the head of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and slowly spread it down its length.
Rubbing her waist and lower back was a sensual experience for me, too.
This allowed me a chance keeping the mood sexy and erotic.
I then got the K-Y jelly ready.
The mystery and darkness of it , the naughty taboo of it, made me hot and want to get down to business.
I squeezed out a liberal glob of it and placed it on her Bhārgav Brāhmañ bung hole, plastering her rectal pucker, caressing and spreading it in circular strokes, slowly putting more and more pressure on her asshole until the tip of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund was in it just past the first knuckle.
With slow, steady pressure, I worked my lubed ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund in her utmost beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass as far as it would go.
“OHH, Ohh that’s it right there.” Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, instructed. “Keep your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund there …… feel my Bhārgav Brāhmañ anal muscles relax and open slowly,” Ramā Bhārgav added, now fully enjoying the insertion. “Now your push your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund more, let the half of it go inside,” she moaned.
I noticed that she never enjoyed anally the withdrawing of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund more than the forward thrusts.
Satisfied that Ramā Bhārgav‘s nether region was lubed and loosened adequately, I readied myself with more lube and was ready to mount Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, stealing another peek at her Bhārgav Brāhmañ sphincter, now visibly more open than before.
I had a little trouble getting in her backdoor properly, despite my utmost experience.
Ramā Bhārgav reached back, got hold of my erect ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and guided me up in to her ever beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass, a procedure that always made me horny when I saw it happen.
I penetrated Ramā Bhārgav deeper and deeper until I was balls deep, and the pink Bhārgav Brāhmañ ring of her sphincter expanded fully accommodating my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.
It was so tight and hot.
It felt nice.
“Is that good?” I asked. “Does my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund feel good up your young twenty nine years old Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass?” I smiled proudly.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
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
That was what Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr is actually good at.
Al Kuwait Creations were almost similar to the Gāndhār of Mahābhārat period, if there was such a period.
He still didn’t know whether there were any Mahābhārat war, or not.
The Westerners never accepted there was.
They always claimed it was only a mythological tale, nothing else.
Yet, Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr wasn’t so sure now.
If Durgesh’s Time Cycle Theory were incorrect, how the hell was it possible for him to go in the Trétā era ever?
He met his real father Brahm Nārāyañ Mukherjī there.
Brahm Nārāyañ Mukherjī was exactly his identical.
Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr found he has so many real and half Brāhmañ sisters in Trétā.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan once more proved herself correct.
“If you lick your wife, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Sābirah Al Wahāb, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt
I mean, after Durgesh fucks her, you may get rid of your entire shortcomings gradually, eventually, ultimately.”
Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr smiled cunningly.
“Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, you want to cuckold me too?”
“Do I need to, Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, smiled sarcastically.
Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr watched the utmost cunning young woman he had ever encountered with, in his entire life.
He could never decide who was using whom.
Sometimes he thought Durgesh was using Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, successfully, without letting her even realize what he was doing with her.
Yet, sometimes Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr himself doubted his own theory.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was getting more from Durgesh than Durgesh was getting from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated.
How then Durgesh was using her?*
Mahārānī Rājmātā Kuntī Chaturvédī was neither Mahārānī nor Rājmātā then.
She was Rājkumārī Kuntī Chaturvédī only.
What a tragedy!
She had to leave her son, Karñ Kauntéý Chaturvédī, only because he was an offspring from her premarital affair.
She had numerous Musalmān lady friends that had their premarital affairs with Durgesh mostly, or at least with other capable Hindus.
They were even bold enough to revolt against their society.
Ayesha Ahmad, Dr. Ali Sina’s co-author, was a born Musalmān lady.
Yet, she bravely wrote against Islam.
Here, the traditional Paurāñik Brāhmañ of Chaturvédī Creations were obstinate not to let any Brāhmañ young lady have any premarital affair.
She was expected to be a virgin obstinately until she wasn’t married.
Rājkumārī Kuntī Chaturvédī loved Durgesh, a Bachhalyā.
Despite a large number of restrictions, she enjoyed premarital sex with Durgesh.
She deliberately conceived Durgesh’s child in her womb.
Gave birth to a handsome male child clandestinely with the help of ever revolting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She had been extolled far beyond her deserts and the incident was never mentioned.*
My eyes were grave watching her.
Narendr Modi is being credited for it.
How excellently the time cycle, the Kālchakr, was working!
There were Brahm Apsarās again prominent in Bollywood.
Katrina Kaif was number one, but it needed Saba Qamar too.
Maryam Tanvīr Ålī is also one of them.
When she had her fingers cleaned off Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to collect my cum from her chin and sucked it off them.
“Take off your shirt,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said as I immediately pulled my shirt off and sat naked before her on the couch.
She had seen me in bathing suits around the pool many times.
Naturally, she knew pretty well what my Bachhalyā male body looked like, but now as I sat before her basking in the afterglow of the first orgasm I didn’t give myself.
I looked sexy and appealing in a way she never would have dreamed possible.
Truly I was a fine man.
“Are you ready for more of your present?”
“There’s more?” I replied softly in excitement.
Her exercising had kept her fit and she only had a small stomach that she knew was much smaller than any other women she knew her own age.
Her heavy tits even hadn’t started relenting to her age.
They were still where they rode on her chest.
“There is as much of this as you want.”
I smiled at her words.
All feelings of wrong were gone now and were replaced only by a craving for more of this intense sensation.
She had forgotten how excitable I could be and how little control she had the first few times I fucked.
She let out another cry as started to cum inside her pussy for the first time ever.
The sensation of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ cum bathing my still in action stiff Bachhalyā Lund and the feeling of my body reacting so strongly to her orgasm triggered an orgasm in me too that was stronger and longer than any Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could remember having.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav clutched me tightly to her Bhārgav Brāhmañ tits and drove my Bachhalyā Lund as far inside her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could, as her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot exploded into a long series of spasms and twitches.
It seemed like there wasn’t a single part of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ body that wasn’t affected by her orgasm and when it finally passed Dr. Sītā Bhārgav sank against her Bachhalyā lover in complete relief and release.
“That was amazing.”
I sat up and looked at her before answering,
“I’m honored. Yet it can also be so much more.”
After my words she moved to me and we met in a new kind of kiss.
This was the deep, exploring kiss of lovers and not at all like any kiss we had previously shared.
We remained in this position kissing and just basking in being naked together for a long time.
Neither of us knew nor cared to.
She fucked me this time more vigorously.
There was a third round too.
Then there was a fourth round.
Then there was a fifth, sixth and seventh round.
I stood, took her hand, and gravely followed her down the hallway.
My room was just a shade bigger than her own but had the same king sized bed her room had.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav didn’t know why, but something about being with me like this in my own room surrounded by the various posters of athletes, bands, and nearly naked women made the sensation more intense for her.
Since I never made my bed we didn’t even need to move the sheets as we crawled in together.
By the time she had them over my face I began kissing them.
She rolled over onto her back letting me kneel over her as I resumed exploring her tits.
I looked at her as if I was unsure what she meant.
I reached down and tentatively ran my fingers through her curly pussy hair.
She reached down putting her fingers over mine and guided me to her clit.
I complied and began rubbing my fingers all over and around her engorged clit.
My touch was almost a turn on for her.
It didn’t take long with my fingers rubbing over her clit, even unknowingly, for her to explode into orgasm again.
I kept rubbing at her insistence and stared down at her watching her body tremble.
I moved between her legs.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel me experimenting with different speeds and angles and most of all she simply basked in my desire and the feeling of my hard Bachhalyā Lund filling her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot so perfectly.
There was no way I could resist the added stimulation of her orgasm and my began just as hers was reaching its peak.
Both called out and groaned over and over as we shared a mutual orgasm.
I collapsed into her arms and we held each other closely.
She ran her hands over my ever young, strong back and caressed my tight hips as we exchanged a few kisses and mostly just stayed together.
I seemed reluctant to let her leave so she asked,
“Well,” I smiled, “I don’t want my present to end.”
“Come on, let’s continue till you want to,”
Her hair was still pulled up behind her head but was quite tussled and a bit of a mess.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly at her reflection in the mirror fixed opposite her and decided not to bother fixing her appearance only to get it messed up later when she planned on fucking me nonstop again.
She sat in her robe in front of the TV, sipping hot chocolate.
She’d meant to watch an educational program on the History channel, but flipping through channels she’d become interested in a trashier program gossiping about lifestyles of the Bachhalyās and their sex lives with Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs and Muslimāt.
She watched this now, half-bored.
It was the usual story shown already infinite times.
The Muslimāt are hottest genetically.
Their Ammī was the same.
She was a profound feminist always.
She had sex with Durgesh even.
Yet she never surrendered to Durgesh even.
“He isn’t my husband.” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl used to say, “Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, my dear child, you should have refused to your father to live with him. Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav is a good man. Yet, sorry, I can’t be his Najmah Mandodarī.”
“Dad didn’t took only me, Ammī Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said bitterly, “He compelled you to give him his every offspring from you. Nevertheless, he always requested to take care of us. He always invited you to live there in Golden Creations, Golden Capital City. What the more is needed to prove that Dad Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav is a perfectly competent and responsible father? Even Swarñ Lankéshvar Rāvañ Vaishravañ Paulastý had not only abandoned his daughter, Brahm Jagdambā, Sītā Rāvañi Vaishravañ Paulastý.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I got a call from Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
She and Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī were getting divorced.
It came as a total shock to me and I could tell Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was upset.
I said I would see her in two weeks and we could talk then. I took my own airplane home and Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī met me at the airport.
She gave me a hard hug and a kiss then we got into the car.
I soon found out that Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī had been seeing some Musalmān Beauty and Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī found out.
He said he wanted out of the marriage.
All I got from Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī was a text message that we should talk when I got home.
I was grave on how things had gone down.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī had moved out and it was just Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī and I at the house now.
That first night back we had dinner together but the mood was subdued.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī soon went back to her bedroom.
I got settled into my room and I was getting ready to go to bed.
I went down to the bathroom one last time.
As I was walking back, I saw Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s door was partly open.
I don’t know why but I cracked the door and looked in.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was just in her early forties.
I always thought she was beautiful and had a fantastic Brāhmañ body for someone her age.
She inherited this quality from her Årab Musalmān mother, Al Fataħ Al Åbbās.
There was Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
She had fallen asleep.
She had on a shirt and just a pair of panties.
I stepped into the room.
I was going to turn off her lamp by the bed.
I looked down.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s panties were damp.
Her nipples were pushing against the material of her shirt.
I know I shouldn’t have been looking.
I could feel my Bachhalyā Lund stirring in the pair of shorts I was wearing.
I must have made some noise.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s eyes opened.
“What are you doing here, Durgesh?”
“I was just checking up on you, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.”
She had to have known I was looking at her near nude body.
I took a bold step.
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
I reached over and placed my fingers on her wet panties.
“No Durgesh, you shouldn’t,” she said to me.
“Why not? You aren’t married to Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, or anyone now. What’s wrong there if you too start afresh as Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī did?”
I began to run my fingers across the wet slit of her panties.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī let out this low moan.
I just lost control of my urges.
I stood up and removed my shorts.
There I stood with my half hard Bachhalyā Lund right in front of Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
“We can’t Durgesh,” she said to me, “it’s not right.”
“Tell me ‘Why’ the hell?”
I reached down and pulled Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī up to the edge of the bed.
I slowly pulled her shirt off and then I slid her panties down.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī took a long look at my Bachhalyā Lund and then she reached out.
She brought her magnificent Brāhmañ lips to my Bachhalyā Lund and then she inhaled me.
I could hardly believe this was happening.
I didn’t lose a Moment and I began to pump my Bachhalyā Lund down Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s throat.
She brought a hand to my Bachhalyā balls and started to massage me.
It didn’t take much for me to get totally hard.
My Bachhalyā Lund was about seven inches in length now, constantly lengthening and thickening more and more every sucking from Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī had most of it in her extremely beautiful Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ mouth.
She smiled sucking me.
It was expressly written on her extremely beautiful Brāhmañ face and equally beautiful Brāhmañ eyes that:
‘They say a BrahmKanyā and/or Brahmāñī is never ultimately satisfied without a Bachhalyā Lund. They are right.’
I had to finally pull away.
I thought I might cum before I wanted to.
I pushed Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī onto her back.
She got this look on her face.
“Please Durgesh, we can’t.”
Maybe Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī thought it was okay to only suck on my Bachhalyā Lund.
I just couldn’t bring myself to stop now.
I parted Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s beautiful Brāhmañ legs and I got in between them.
I guess Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī finally gave into me.
Her hands went to my hips and I positioned my Bachhalyā mushroom at her Brāhmañ opening.
I was surprised how easily I entered Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ pussy.
I slid all the way in.
My Bachhalyā balls were resting against her extremely beautiful Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ ass.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī started to push against me.
I began to feed her extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy with my thick Bachhalyā Lund.
I guess we both lost any inhibitions we might had that night.
“Fuck me Durgesh, I need you so badly!” Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī whispered, “Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī was always interested in wild animal sex with horny Musalmān Beauties. He hated me for not responding to his ever pleasure seeking ever lustful desires.”
“You must have satisfied Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, if you really wanted to keep him to you.”
“I wanted Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī to resign from Indian National Congress and join BJP. The damnfool was still loyal to Sonia Gandhi, Rahul Gandhi and their family. He was deliberately ignoring the Modi Wave everywhere.”
“Well, the damnfool wasn’t alone, nevertheless. There were still some stupid persons that supported the fastest sinking ship.” I smiled triumphantly.
I was going to have Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī all to myself now.
I fed her extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy with the longest strokes I could produce.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was crying out that she needed my Bachhalyā Lund very much.
The Brāhmañs were not any different from other Savarñs.
They all wanted ever hungry ever ravenous Musalmān Pussies around their Uncut Hindu Cocks.
Sophisticated Brāhmañ Pussy wasn’t their requirement actually.
Only Durgesh could respect the sophisticated Brāhmañ Pussies now.
Well, no problem.
It’s all right.
I lowered my face and I started working on her hard nipples.
I was kissing the tips of her Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ tits.
That really pushed Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī over the edge.
I could feel her muscles pulling on my ever active Anant BrahmKanyāchod Anant Brahmāñīchod Bachhalyā Lund.
After so many minutes, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī started to talk.
“I’m getting close, Durgesh.”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to pull out or not.
I just couldn’t bring myself to stop.
A few more strokes and I exploded inside Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy.
Our bodies shook as Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī milked my Bachhalyā cum from me.
I must have had a large load stored up.
I just kept sending my Bachhalyā cream deep into Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ womb.
After some time I could tell that my Bachhalyā seed was dripping out and down Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s Brāhmañ ass.
I left my Bachhalyā Lund inside Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī for as long as it was possible.
Her extremely beautiful tight Tripāŧhī Brāhmañ Pussy spasms kept going until I finally had to pull my spent Bachhalyā Lund out.
After all that lovemaking, we kissed.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī told me that she had been so frustrated from parting with Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī.
When she saw me standing there looking at her, she just broke down and wanted me in bed with her.
That summer ended up being a wild time.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī and I would fuck almost every evening.
I was surprised that she needed sex so often.
It was definitely from her Årab Musalmān Ammī.
Normal Brāhmañ Beauties were not so ravenous usually.
I would take her two and three times straight.
When I was fucking Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, I could cum more often than usual.
It got to the end of summer.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī asked me if I could transfer to a branch of HVSI in the city where she lived.
I was looking into that right now.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī also sat me down one day and posed a question to me.
“Durgesh, what if I got myself off birth control pills?”
“You want to have a baby by me?”
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī nodded that she wanted to try.
I told her to stop taking the pills.
Our sex life has gone to another level now.
Once the effects wear off I will be trying to make Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī pregnant.
It is a wild time in bed most nights.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī begged me to give her all my Bachhalyā baby cream.
Naturally, I finally impregnated Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, ultimately.
Åbdul Qādir gritted his teeth.
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was his real sister.
Her father, Brahmdutt Tripāŧhī was Åbdul Qādir’s real father too.*
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī held the receiver.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s confident voice could be heard.
“Mr. Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, the President of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries?”
“Yes, Judge, how are─?”
“From one old bastard who’s hung in the public stocks to another about to be pilloried in the same place, I want to wish you well, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī. I want you to go in there, keep your left up high, chin tucked in, and belt them straight from the shoulders. No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, just remember you’re the boss, you’re not Uncle Tom. Never be afraid of Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī only because Åbdul Qādir is her real brother and Brahmdutt Tripāŧhī is her father.”
“Thank you, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.” Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī smiled fucking his new Musalmān wife, Al Safiyah Al Nāzim.
What a relief!
Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī could never satisfy Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī to this extent.
She was too sophisticated, hell.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā kept speaking,
“It’s all right. You think what you think, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, you just speak out what you believe, and when you have to, you give them hell. Remember that, young man. We Brāhmañs are fantastically perfect with Musalmān wives, Musalmān beloveds and Musalmān ladyfriends. Brāhmañ Beauties are actually competent for Durgesh and at the most, for other Bachhalyās only.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā paused to assess the effect of what he said to Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī didn’t tell Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā that he isn’t interested to represent Indian National Congress any more.
There was a strong Modi wave today everywhere.
His ever loyal political agents were trying to bargain with BJP desperately, yet there wasn’t any success until now.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī’s new Musalmān wives were more powerful in BJP than even his ex wife, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
They had managed to get a ticket for Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī from BJP miraculously.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī himself couldn’t believe he is representing BJP now in his own constituency.
“Except for those Confederates who still think old Indian National Congress is good for yet another term, you got your party right behind you from this day on. And those that aren’t behind you, you tell me and I’ll whomp them into line. Just calling for me and my new Musalmān wives to wish you the best in BJP and your first day as the new President of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries. You, I and my new Musalmān wives too that replaced my former Brahm Padminī wives, know you need it.”
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī smiled cunningly.
“I don’t think you are even a bit upset of losing your Brahm Padminī wives, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.”
“I’m an ever loyal citizen of BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said with absolute judicial gravity.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī laughed.
“Oh, sure. However, never think I’m a stupid enough not to understand how much anxious you were to get rid of your extremely beautiful yet immensely cold, immensely righteous, Brahm Padminī wives. Even if they surrendered to you to have sex with them, it was tremendously insufficient to you. They had earliest orgasms themselves before you’ve even started to enjoy sex with them. What a relief it’s now, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, to you that now you have immensely sexy, immensely horny Musalmān wives that replaced your Brahm Padminī wives now for ever.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā frowned.
“You can draw your own conclusions, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī.”
Returning the receiver to its cradle, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī smiled gravely.
Better, change your side if the defeat were confirmed.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī never believed in loyalty to the extent to sink with the sinking ship.
Why the hell should he?
Even the rats leave the sinking ship.
Was Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī worse, more stupid, than the rats even?
The telephone rang again.
He knew he wasn’t alone.
There was long line of Congresspersons that were leaving Indian National Congress fast and joining BJP.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī glanced at his wristwatch.
It was a quarter to ten.
He picked up the receiver gravely.
“Good morning, Mr. President. This is Viprésh Chaturvédī. I’m in the Conference Room with your Administration Assistant, Kailāsh Kulkarñī. We have some urgent matters ─routine, but they have to be settled─ to discuss. Are you intending to come over here this morning, or would you prefer that we visit you?”
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī frowned.
Viprésh Chaturvédī was never as loyal to Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī as he was loyal to his ex wife, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī.
He had already decided to fire Viprésh Chaturvédī.
But it wasn’t as easy as he had thought ever.
During the period, Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was the President of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries, he never tried to understand the administrative problems why Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī couldn’t do this or that.
He always thought Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was arrogant.
She deliberately never tried to understand his point of view.
She deliberately humiliated him, and enjoyed it immensely.
His opinion surprisingly changed as soon as he himself took her chair.
He, amazingly realized Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī was usually right.
She was a lot smarter than Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī he ever thought of her.
Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries still needed Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī’s smart leadership, Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī lacked very much.
It was a blunder to divorce Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī, as far as the interests of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries were concerned.
Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī hung up.
He could not enjoy now that he was going to a better office now, as he enjoyed even its dreams before.
He was realizing now the responsibilities were more serious than the power and facilities the new post had.
The power and facilities attract a person very much to be the President of a successful organization, but it carries responsibilities simultaneously.
He had criticized Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī very much, for her being too secretive.
Yet, today Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī himself was finding himself being too secretive too.
Hell, the Presidency of an organization, itself contained secrecy.
He was blaming Brahmkāntā Tripāŧhī erroneously.
During Viprésh Chaturvédī’s brief conversation with Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī, Kailāsh Kulkarñī had sat on one of the sofas of the Presidential reception room of Brahmkāntā Brahm Nārāyañ Group of Industries.
Kailāsh Kulkarñī had hardly heard the conversation.
He was too absorbed in his own musings for it.
Presently his mind had dwelt upon the loss of his own immensely beautiful Brahm Padminī wives to Durgesh for ever.
None of them was his wife now any more.
They were Durgesh’s wives now.
Damn Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.
Yes, they have given him more beautiful, sexier Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives now.
They are keeping him more satisfied sexually.
Nevertheless, sex was not everything Kailāsh Kulkarñī wanted to get from his wives.
He loved his Brahm Padminī wives.
What the hell about it?
Sitting straight on the sofa, Kailāsh Kulkarñī saw Viprésh Chaturvédī.
“What are you up to, Viprésh Chaturvédī?” Kailāsh Kulkarñī asked gravely.
“Nothing. Brahm Nārāyañ Trivédī is on his way in. I’m unable to understand how the hell he has managed to get a BJP ticket.”
Viprésh Chaturvédī smiled cunningly.
“He is shrewd enough every time usually to win the confidence of the people of his constituency. He left Indian National Congress claiming he can’t support the scams any more. His loyalty to his party doesn’t mean he doesn’t have any responsibility to the nation itself. Indian National Congress has lost its integrity now among the people, allowing scams on scams, and being unable to stop it.”
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Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā looked over at me with amazement and joy on her face.
“Hey Bhagvān! Look at it snow, Durgesh darling!”
We had just walked out of the mall.
We both were stark naked.
We had to be.
Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ had warned everyone concerned,
“If you want to save her life, we can’t separate them now.”
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā was furious,
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was radiating happiness.
She could not understand what she was after now.
The weatherman had mentioned snow might be in the forecast, but there were a few inches of the white stuff on the ground and in the dimming afternoon light, the clouds promised more snow, lots more.
As we walked on our fours, all nude, through the falling snow, I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Brahm Mahimā Sharmā looked, her long black hair dusted with snowflakes.
Even her Ammī, Dr. Al Furqān Al Saåūd, was so beautiful in her nude that I couldn’t stop myself fucking her when her daughter Brahm Mahimā Sharmā was asleep on the bed.
Dr. Al Furqān Al Saåūd was startled,
“You— you called me ‘Ammī’ Durgesh.”
“Yes, my dear,” I pushed my entire Uncut Hindu Lund into the still amazingly tight Saůūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān Choot of Dr. Al Furqān Al Saåūd, “but we have now only one mission. We have to save your daughter’s life at any caste. Don’t we?”
Dr. Al Furqān Al Saåūd was in a hell of an indecisive position.
Allah, Yā Allaaaaah! A Hindu is fucking her now at her forty-four.
She had never anticipated it.
Yes, Durgesh is thirty-two.
He is twelve years younger than she herself was.
But he was a Hindu.
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā was her daughter because her husband’s friend, Dr. Rām Pratāp Sharmā, could give her a son, her husband never provided.
Craving for a son, Dr. Al Furqān Al Saåūd seduced Dr. Rām Pratāp Sharmā herself.
Dr. Al Furqān Al Saåūd deliberately lied to Dr. Rām Pratāp Sharmā that his friend, her husband, Ambassador Sheikħ Al Sultān Al Saåūd, was semi impotent.
“Semi impotent?” Dr. Rām Pratāp Sharmā could not approve the idea, “Bhābhījān, I can’t understand actually what you do mean.”
“Your Bhābhījān, Dr. Al Furqān Al Saåūd, Dr. Rām Pratāp Sharmā, needs you very much. A friend in need is a friend indeed.”
“Anything for you Bhābhījān. Just order me and—”
Dr. Rām Pratāp Sharmā was stunned.
He could not believe his ears,
Ambassador Sheikħ Al Sultān Al Saåūd named her Al Qur’an Al Sultān Al Saåūd.
He thought she was his own daughter.
We took our presents to Brahm Mahimā Sharmā’s old station wagon and went in search of a restaurant.
At a local steakhouse, we ordered steaks and from our window seat watched as the snow piled up.
“I think we might have made a mistake, Bachhalyā Piyā,” Brahm Mahimā Sharmā said. “Maybe we should have headed for home as soon as I got here.”
I looked at her and nodded, replying,
“Maybe so. Even the weather guy didn’t see this coming.”
I’d stopped at the bar on our way in and instead of sports; everyone was watching the weather reports on the Six O’clock News.
An unexpected collision of polar and humid fronts was giving birth to a major snowstorm.
The word blizzard was being tossed around.
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā had driven down to drive me back for Shrāvañ Parv break.
I was a successful writer, Barrister, Sex therapist and Social Worker from India, visiting Chicago now.
It was tradition for Brahm Mahimā Sharmā to drive the four or so hours to pick me up for Shrāvañ Parv break.
We’d spend the day catching up, going shopping and having dinner before heading home for the Shrāvañ Parv gathering.
It was a chance for Brahm Mahimā Sharmā and me to have a quiet Moment together.
We left the restaurant with a couple of more inches of snow on the ground.
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā’s station wagon plowed stolidly through the snow, but it was getting really messy now.
On the radio, the report was to expect somewhere between twelve and fifteen inches of snow by noon tomorrow.
Near my studio apartment, we stopped at a local Korean grocery and used the pay phone there.
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā called home to discover that they were already snowed in.
Her husband, Professor Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl, wasn’t happy, fussing that Brahm Mahimā Sharmā should have known better and the roads there were in even worse shape.
He complained until Brahm Mahimā Sharmā cut him off, saying,
“Just get over it, my dear ever over caring Brāhmañ husband, Professor Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl. You and the twins can survive a few days without me. You’ll probably enjoy Shrāvañ Parv even more.” She rolled her eyes at me in disgust.
Yeah, her ever over caring Brāhmañ husband, Professor Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl, was a class act, bitching about his own possible discomforts rather than the safety of his wife.
Had she been normal, perhaps she had been surprised how he did agree to have his wife, always nude, in my always-nude lap, always fucking her.
If it were not his own sister, Prabhā Shuklā’s mistake, Professor Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl had never allowed it.
Hey Bhagvān, why Prabhā Shuklā did it?
His wife, in nude, is enjoying her world tour with nude Durgesh always fucking her.
How could he even bear the thought?***
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā spoke to her younger brothers and reassured them that she’d miss them, but that they and her ever over caring Brāhmañ husband, Professor Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl, would have a fun special Shrāvañ Parv all on their own.
I imagined, they weren’t too broken up about it.
Hanging up the phone, and wiping away a couple of tears, Brahm Mahimā Sharmā shrugged and said,
I winked at Brahm Mahimā Sharmā fucking her more passionately,
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā pushed her gorgeous extremely beautiful nude Sharmā Brāhmañ buttocks in my nude male Bachhalyā lap and swallowed my entire throbbing Bachhalyā Lund once more into her Sharmā Brāhmañ Choot.
Umā Dīxit was still sarcastic.
“She is teasing us, Durgesh. She is our Bhābhī. We know her better than you.”
Prabhā Shuklā was suspicious herself.
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā was her Bhābhī, her sister in law today, but she was her friend ab initio, from their childhood.
“Shshsh…”Brahm Mahimā Sharmā silenced her, “not so aloud. Ammījān would hear and would think I’m disgracing her religion.”
“Nonsense, Al Furqān auntie is not so undemocratic. She respects individuality and personal decisions of other persons even more than Ambassador Sheikħ Al Sultān Al Saåūd uncle does.”
“Prabhā Shuklā, then you don’t know my Abbū, Ambassador Dr. Sheikħ Al Sultān Al Saåūd.”
“What do you mean?”
“He is widely hated in Saůūdī Årab for his ardent democratic views.”
Prabhā Shuklā was surprised,
“Widely hated? What do you mean? You Saůūdī Årabs hate democracy?”
“You haven’t gone our country ever?” Brahm Mahimā Sharmā was surprised.
“Hey, Saůūdī Årab is not your country.”
Brahm Mahimā Sharmā sighed.
“But Ambassador Dr. Sheikħ Al Sultān Al Saåūd uncle is not your real father. Your real father is Ambassador Dr. Rām Pratāp Sharmā uncle, Ambassador of India in Saůūdī Årab.” Prabhā Shuklā protested avidly.
“What difference does it make? Who knows that?”
“Even then, isn’t it a fact?”
“While, I think the Live in relationships represent true love between a man and a woman more than the marriages do.”
Prabhā Shuklā jumped out of sheer surprise,
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