She never took the oath she promised her husband she would take if his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, would do the same first.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was never wrong in having faith in her husband.
I appreciated Al Faisal Al Qāsim that despite he believed his
How wrong Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was in understanding her own present society.
It wasn’t as Islamic as she thought it was.
As the other societies were, the present day Islamic Society was also a mixed society.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim was dumbfounded.
It was natural.
Who the hell could believe his own wife could betray him in such a way in front of his family?
He bravely challenged his Ammī to take the oath that Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was lying.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās had smiled in her heart on the stupidity of her foolish son.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim had inherited the same stupidity from his father?
Well, let him.
Till the Musalmīn are as stupid as Al Faisal Al Qāsim and his father, Al Qāsim Al Åbbās, are, the evershrewd beautiful Musalmān houseladies, as Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, were, could easily keep on their false respect everywhere in the so called Islamic Society.
It never investigates the truth.
It always has faith in ostensibles.
Nevertheless, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm never believed it.
And why the hell shouldn’t he?
Should he love his wife even more than he loved his Ammī?
What did Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm want?
He should believe his wife, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, despite it would be the utter degradation and immense humiliation of his Ammī despite she met his challenge bravely and his wife didn’t?
He divorced Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
He had to.
It was his promise to Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, his Ammī.
Jannat doesn’t lie below the feet of one’s wife.
It is below the feet of one’s Ammī only.
Yet, a Muslim couldn’t, and never shouldn’t sacrifice his Īmān for anything whatsoever it might be.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
She wanted to get rid of Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās was very proud of his family.
He wanted to keep it joint.
One of his brothers was still living with them.
She let him.
He and his wife both respected Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās very much.
Yet, she allowed the ever-stupid Al Farīd Al Åbbās and his wife to live with them.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās saw how shrewd her husband’s younger brother’s daughter, Al Åādilah Al Farīd Al Åbbās, was.
I obliged Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās.
Despite the fact that she wasn’t a good woman, I fucked her.
I had to improve her now.
It was a great tragedy of almost entire women that when their son reached adulthood, they were afraid of their potential daughter in law.
They could never understand they had another role in their son’s life.
It was the only way to win her husband, Al Faisal Al Qāsim, back.
“Why didn’t you do it, you foolish girl?” I asked her fucking her girlfriends one by one.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm looked at me gravely,
“I would never take any advice from you. You want to fuck me too now.”
“You stupid girl, you didn’t leave any option for your excellent husband.”
“If he were actually excellent, he would never have divorced me.”
“Had not he warned you to divorce if you wouldn’t take the oath on Al Qur’an Al Karīm?”
“Sure, but I thought Tāī Ammī would never go to the extent.”
“She is a liar.”
“Yes, but she succeeded in proving herself innocent because you retreated from your jihad against her.”
“I’m not interested in any jihad against anyone.”
“That’s the worst decision you ever took suicidal to you.” One of her closest friends, Al Busharah Arraħmān, smiled straddling me, “My mother in law did the same trick with me…”
“I know,” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm interrupted Al Busharah Arraħmān, “You took the oath yourself too.”
“Why shouldn’t have I?” Al Busharah Arraħmān took my Penis between her forefinger and thumb, positioned it between her labial lips and thrust.
My Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund vanished into her twenty eight years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely in her very first shot.
“You cuckolded your husband, Al Busharah Arraħmān,” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm said scornfully, “I’d never.”
“That’s why you are divorced, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm,” Al Busharah Arraħmān laughed fucking me vigorously, “Isn’t it better to cuckold your ever stupid Musalmān husband, instead of being divorced by him?”
“I don’t think so.” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm said curtly.
“Nothing can be done of you ever unrealistic foolishly moral Musalmān houseladies even if you are immensely beautiful.” Al Busharah Arraħmān looked gravely at her closest friend, “Your mother in law took false oath, and she has lost nothing. You foolishly didn’t take even the true oath and lost your husband forever. My mother in law took false oath that she never sent me in Durgesh’s bedroom where Durgesh was already fucking her friend, Annavīdah Al Vaqār…”
“Allah,” Al Busharah Arraħmān was dumbfounded, “Tāī Ammī sent me here to take her mobile,”
Annavīdah Al Vaqār smiled at Al Busharah Arraħmān.
She neither freezed nor was ashamed of herself even a bit.
“Take it, your Tāī Ammī deliberately left her mobile on that table.”*
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās was startled.
“Is your wife, my Ammī, is faithful to you?” Al Faisal Al Qāsim asked Al Qāsim Al Åbbās patiently, “Despite it, have you divorced her? No! My wife, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, is innocent. Yet, I’ve divorced her. Only because I’d promised to divorce her to my Ammī, your ever dominant wife on you.”
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās could never imagine his son would talk with him ever in this way.
“Never. That’s the point, instead. Ammī was enjoying very much what she was doing with you. She was humiliating you, degrading you. Yet, you have forgiven her. My wife never degraded me, never humiliated me, yet the entire family asked me to divorce her. Why?”
“Aren’t you too?”
“You doubt it, don’t you?”
“Who do you think my real father is? Durgesh himself?”
“Get out. Leave my house, at once!”
“Sure, that’s why I did what I did. I am leaving this house for ever. That’s why I paid my debt to my parents.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Midterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb controlled himself.
“I’ve got to know whether or not Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was here talking with you.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb’s impatience dropped from my calm manner as easily as butter slips from a hot knife.
“Let’s not have any misunderstanding. Do you know Miss Al Hilāl Al Tayyab personally?”
“Of course I do. What do you think I’m worried about a person whom I don’t know personally even?”
“Yet she doesn’t want you to know of her whereabouts?” I smiled sarcastically.
“Mr. Durgesh, I can’t allow her to destroy herself.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb remained standing by the window.
His face showed that he was laboring under a great strain.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said he was himself a millionaire therefore he wasn’t interested in her multi millions.
“You can’t talk that way to me.” He said.
“I have already talked that way to you, Mr. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb.” I said sweetly.
“Nevertheless, you can’t do it.”
“It would be all right to talk that way to a stranger, Mr. Durgesh, but I’m not a stranger to Al Hilāl Al Tayyab. I’m close to her. You don’t know she was ready to marry Muħammad the gay.”
“That’s right. He is already married. Yet, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wanted to marry him only because she wanted to cuckold him. I offered myself to her.”
I was dumbfounded.
“To be cuckolded?”
“To be cuckolded.”
“You love her that much?”
“I love her more than my life.”
“Don’t you know Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is an ardent utmost active member of Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?”
“Her Abbū, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, was an ardent follower of Imām Muħammad Ħasan.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan does not want to cuckold anyone.” I said curtly, “He is a great man. He established Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs with the help of ever anti Hindu Westerners.”
“Every Westerner isn’t anti Hindu.” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb contradicted me immediately with blunt response.
I smiled patiently.
“I never said that. Did I?”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb watched me scrutinizing.
He didn’t say anything.
“The trouble with you, Mr. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, is that you are too much full of prejudices against me to understand why Imām Muħammad Ħasan is with me.”
“I…I’m sorry,” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb said feeling himself shameful somewhat.
“You are an educated man, I think.”
“I’m a M. D.”
“Doctor of Medicine?”
“Yes, Muħammad is my friend. I wanted to cure him.”
“He doesn’t want to be cured.”
“Yes, I know, now.”
“He has self-hypnotized himself so much that he is developing now female sex organ even.”
“Allah, and Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wanted to marry him?” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was crestfallen, “Alħamdulillāh that I decided to save her at the right time.”
“She would use you as a footrest while I fuck her.” I exploded my bombshell, “You can’t bear such a degradation ever. Can you?”*
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb smiled sadly.
“I can even die for her. She is already using me as her footrest, although you are not fucking her then.”
I could not speak anything for a minute.
Then I said.
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, do you really think you love her?”
“Let me go to hell,” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb kept smiling miserably, “what do you yourself think? What is it if not my love for her?”
“Isn’t it a fact that your wife, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, has separated from you? Isn’t it a fact that she has charged you that you can’t father a child?”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was stunned.
“So she told you that?”
“You still have more faith in your wife, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, than you have faith in Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.” I smiled cunningly.
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb said curtly,
“Nonsense. Al Navīdah Al Ghaus has already separated from me. She would never come to me.”
“Yet you still think Al Navīdah Al Ghaus would never betray you, only Al Hilāl Al Tayyab can.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was wide eyed.
His mouth was agape with immensely incredible surprise.
“You mean… you mean Al Navīdah Al Ghaus has already joined your Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire? Allah, why the hell didn’t I ever think it? Allah! Allah!”
He fell on a chair as if he had lost his everything to me.
It was more than obvious that he still loved his already separated wife, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, more.
His claim that he loved Al Hilāl Al Tayyab more was doubtful.
And Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wanted to marry him if even her inheritance of more than a hundred million dollars was on stake.
What wrong Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was doing if she is controlling everything on her behalf?
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb didn’t deserve the sacrifice Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was prepared to do for him.*
For as long as Al Hilāl Al Tayyab could remember Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had always been a domineering ‘bitch’.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab seemed to derive enjoyment from humiliating people even members of her own family.
She hated Pseudo Musalmīn very much.
“They killed Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Imām Muħammad Ħusayn at Karbalā, killing the entire Islamic Movement of Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. The bastards must be cuckolded to Vedic Monotheist Hindus and us. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is absolutely right.”
Al Tayyab Al Muħammad smiled gravely at his youngest sister.
He never approved of her marriage with Al Zahīr Al Muħammad.
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad got the brunt of her acidic tongue any time she went ballistic and I felt sorry for him anytime I saw him reduced to a shivering wreck after being berated for misdemeanors as frivolous as not putting his coffee mug in the kitchen sink after breakfast.
It wasn’t that Al Zahīr Al Muħammad was a weakling.
It was just that he was totally incapable of exhibiting any form of violence both verbal and physical to anyone, especially women.
He was over sophisticated, suffering for it.
He could not understand Al Jalāl Al Tayyab actually hated him for his over sophistication even in sex.
He preferred to ‘act matured’ any time Al Jalāl Al Tayyab opened her pretty mouth and rained abuses on him.
Personally, I could understand why he wouldn’t break his superhero No Kill rule and just knock her out.
Even that would not shut her up real fast.
She was a billionaire.
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad needed her money even for his own survival and the survival of his entire idle family always devoted to Islamic activities only.*
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb looked at me.
His eyes were begging me to answer him.
“Is Al Navīdah Al Ghaus too having your ever famous ever omnipotent Uncut Hindu Lund into her ever beautiful young Musalmān Choot already?”
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb,” I advised him gravely, “be a man.”
“What do you mean?”
“Al Navīdah Al Ghaus was once your wife, not now anymore. She has separated from you herself. It doesn’t make any difference on what grounds. The cold and hard fact now is that Al Navīdah Al Ghaus doesn’t want to live with you anymore as your wife. Forget her. You have already decided to marry with Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, despite the fact that you know Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is obsessed with my Uncut Hindu Lund.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb laughed ironically.
“There isn’t any woman now anywhere in the entire infinite åālmīn, entire infinite creations, entire infinite realities that doesn’t want to enjoy sex with you. Your De facto Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, has successfully spread too many white lies about your ever incredible sexual prowess. Even the ever dominant Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā surrendered to you despite the fact that Al Zahīr Al Muħammad uncle was never incompetent in any way.”*
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab’s 38 year old Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, was smoking hot and that’s putting it mildly.
That’s what made her so annoying to Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was tall, almost six feet and built like an Olympic gymnast despite being the mother of 5 equally beautiful daughters.
Anyone can actually see her muscles rippling anytime she had a workout at the gym at home, especially her legs which went on like forever and were sculptured to physical perfection.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was deeply tanned with long jet black hair that stretched all the way to her waist.
Her eyes were deep and shockingly blue with an intensity that could incinerate anyone born of woman who dared try to stare her down.
Most times, people avoided looking at her eyes and either looked tamely at her luscious full red lips or went further South to rest on her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts with nipples harder and sharper than a pair of coffin nails.
But her greatest asset or should I say ass-et was her robust Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
It was a perfectly sculptured heart-shaped pair of Musalmān buttocks that stood out at right angles from her back and flared out at the hips.
In fact I don’t know why Al Jalāl Al Tayyab still worked as an utmost successful businesswoman, probably to get a kick from berating her subordinates at meetings, instead of becoming an ass model.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass was the stuff of dreams for jeans designers.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab knew she had a great perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and made sure others knew it as well.
When she was home, she walked around the house in a half-top and the briefest of panties not giving a hoot if I, her five young daughters or even Al Zahīr Al Muħammad were around.
She didn’t even put on a robe if Al Zahīr Al Muħammad’s friends came around to visit.
No wonder they came around a lot.
I didn’t blame them.
As for a strapping 40 year old male then, like me, it was a running battle to keep my Hindu eyes off her as well.
I was the only one who wasn’t intimidated by Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. Whenever she yelled at me I would grin insolently at her, matching her eye for eye.
I wouldn’t insult her― I would never do that, but the expressions on my face, whenever she picked me out for a fight, ranged from boredom to a slight disinterest which infuriated her.
She tried to hit me once― I caught her wrist before her palm connected with my cheek and told her not to hurt herself.
Naturally she went bonkers.
Probably why Al Jalāl Al Tayyab took extra effort to get under my skin was because there was an undeniable sexual tension between us.
I had caught her several times staring at me when I was using the gym.
I was also an exhibitionist, two can play that game anyway, and walked around the house mostly in my boxers.
I’ve got a great Hindu male body that I worked very hard for, maintaining my Stavans and my ever indomitable positive thinking, and I was proud of it.
Even Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s young daughters liked to tease me about it while Al Jalāl Al Tayyab would glare heatedly at me.
I knew one day the situation would get to a head and the two of us would have to do something about each other.
I couldn’t wait.
Well, the day of reckoning came sooner than I thought.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s family wanted to travel to their hometown to see Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s in laws for the weekend.
I couldn’t go because I hadn’t been ‘feeling well’ for the past couple of days and was in no condition to travel; Al Jalāl Al Tayyab didn’t want to go because she just didn’t want to.
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad and his daughters were not complaining: a weekend without Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was a gift from heaven and they only paused for a brief second to sympathize with me.
It was going to be especially tense since we had only recently had a terrific row in which we both lost our cool and I uncharacteristically yelled at the top of my voice.
I smiled as they joked about the fight while Al Jalāl Al Tayyab gave me a curious look.
It was going to be a hell of a weekend.
It was very likely we would kill each other.
Around six in the evening they bundled into Al Zahīr Al Muħammad’s beat up SUV and took off after the customary heart felt farewells which consisted of his very shapely young daughters giving me long hugs and even longer kisses and Al Zahīr Al Muħammad shaking my hand.
They all kissed Al Jalāl Al Tayyab tentatively on the cheek while she remained cold and aloof.
I waved at the retreating car as Al Jalāl Al Tayyab swung on her heels and entered the house.
Mr. Jalāluddīn, their elderly next door neighbor, happened to be in his front yard.
I caught him staring at Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s behind with his mouth agape.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was wearing a pair of pale-blue denim bum shorts and a black tank top.
She was really looking excellent.
He saw me watching him with an amused smile and went beet red.
I winked at him.
I knew he was jealous of me.
He even suspected that Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had an extramarital affair with me.
It was natural therefore for him to be jealous of me.
His houseladies were already having romantic affairs with me, he suspected to be sexual too.
I immediately went upstairs to lie down.
I was still feeling excited and my heart was thumping so fast from excitement.
I lay staring at the ceiling until Al Jalāl Al Tayyab walked in without knocking.
She did this all the time and I found it extremely relishing.
It was only by fleetness of foot that she hadn’t caught me with my pants down in a corner or in bed doing the customary fucking my other Musalmān women whenever the need was.
I couldn’t lock the door.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab would become suspicious that I was fucking her young daughters too.
She leaned against the door jamb and eyed me.
I stared back at her.
I thought she really looked good the way she cocked her head to one side and observed me.
She looked like one of those femme fatales from Hollywood gangster flicks of the 30s.
“How are you feeling?” she asked at last.
“I think I am feverish somewhat.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know.”
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab shrugged her shoulders impatiently and paused before moving towards me.
I knew Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was weighing acting as a concerned friend or as a complete bitch.
She decided to go against type and check me for a temperature.
She leaned over me as her hand snaked under my t-shirt to feel my chest and my neck.
I could clearly see down her neckline and I got an eyeful of her perky Musalmān tits.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had a black bra on so I couldn’t see her nipples even though they stretched the flimsy material considerably.
I smiled confidently and she mistook it for me feeling some pain or discomfort from her prying hands.
“What is it? Are you okay?” she asked, unable to fully mask the concern in her voice.
“I am fine. Just feeling a bit dizzy that’s all.”
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab sighed and straightened up.
“Come down stairs and let me get you something to drink.”
“I am fine.”
“Come down stairs now,” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab said as she left.
“Yes, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab,” I smiled smirking somewhat.
I still spent about a full minute before I sauntered downstairs and ambled into the kitchen.
What I saw next stopped me dead in my tracks.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was bent over the open freezer trying to bring something out.
Her plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass was facing me directly and it was as big and as beautiful as a full moon on a black night.
The bum shorts had all but disappeared into the deep cleft between her excellent Musalmān buttocks and the white globes sneered at me.
I was so taken aback that I didn’t move for a couple of seconds.
I coughed and moved into the kitchen.
“Sorry, Durgesh, I was getting some ice cream,” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab said over her shoulder, “Are you strong enough? Come and help me out.”
“Sure, no problem.”
I walked over to the freezer.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab straightened up and stood aside.
I bent down and fished out the buckets of ice cream at the bottom of the freezer.
I felt her eyes watching me.
I brought out the buckets and handed them to her.
“Thank you,” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab said as she glanced down at my shorts “Go watch TV. I’ll bring you something to drink.”
I did as I was requested and decided to watch a DVD.
I picked out Basic Instinct and laid back to watch.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab came in later and handed me a cup of juice.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was holding a bucket of ice cream which she evidently had plans of indulging herself with.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab sat on a sofa near me and asked me what I was watching.
The movie was still in the beginning credits and the infamous sex-murder scene hadn’t started yet.
“Basic Instinct,” I said, waiting for her to object vehemently.
We never watched anything steamier than a Brazilian soap opera when Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was around.
I looked at her in disbelief.
“You haven’t watched Basic Instinct?”
“It stars Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone and it’s a classic. Well to me it is.”
The sex scene started and we lapsed into silence.
I tried to keep a straight face as I wondered what Al Jalāl Al Tayyab‘s reaction would be.
I stole a glance at her and noticed Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was watching the movie with rapt attention.
The movie ended.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab stood up and said she was going to take a bath.
I told her that I was going to still watch some more DVDs.
I had deliberately played the last movie to gauge her reaction and so far Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had remained unperturbed.
I was getting slightly cunning.
I was getting hornier by the minute and I wanted to make her hot and bothered.
So far it wasn’t working.
I was watching Wild Things when she came downstairs again.
When I saw her my heart rate rapidly increased.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was wearing a flimsy black nightie that stopped at mid-thigh.
I had never seen her wear anything so blatantly provocative before.
By the way her body moved underneath, I knew Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wasn’t wearing anything else.
Immediately I felt hard and I quickly crossed my legs to cover my tenting shorts.
She flopped belly down on the couch, her cheerful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass skywards.
She cocked her head to one side to watch the tally using her forearms as a pillow.
I could see under the hem of her nightie at her bare Musalmān bum.
Naturally I lost interest in the movie I was watching.
I shifted my body slightly on the sofa so I could face her while still pretending to be watching the TV.
Her legs were slightly apart and I could see her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass crack, all the way down to her pubic mound and the thick black thicket around it.
Didn’t she know Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was exposing herself, I thought?
“Would you mind to get me a glass of water?”
“Certainly not, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.”
I reluctantly stood up and went to the kitchen.
As I walked back with the glass I decided that if Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was going to act slutty then why the hell couldn’t I?
I walked over to her and gave her the glass.
By then my Uncut Hindu Lund was at half-mast and I let it tent my shorts.
She took the glass from me and her eyes rested on my Hindu bulge.
I noticed the surprised look in her eyes even though she didn’t say anything.
She drank slowly while she glanced furtively at my shorts.
I pretended as if nothing was happening.
She gave me back the glass and I took it back to the kitchen.
By the time I came back Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had reverted to her former position on the couch.
This time when I sat down, I noticed that her legs had spread further apart and that the hem was resting higher on her excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Half her pink plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks were fully exposed and her entire pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was visible to me.
I nearly exploded at the sight.
I glanced at her face and saw that her eyes were closed.
Was Al Jalāl Al Tayyab sleeping?
I didn’t think so.
Although I knew her to be a deep sleeper I didn’t think Al Jalāl Al Tayyab would drop off so easily.
For the next 10 minutes, I continued to stare at her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, while my Hindu hard on raged.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to bear it for long and I bloody well couldn’t go to sleep myself.
Wild Things finished and the next DVD started playing.
This time it was an all-out porn movie.
The moans and screams didn’t even make Al Jalāl Al Tayyab stir, as I heard her snoring softly.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I was going to do something, now or never.
I stood up and padded softly over to her.
Her eyes were still closed as I paused for what seemed an eternity before going down on my knees.
Slowly, without taking my eyes off her face I placed my Hindu hand on her smooth, white Musalmān bum.
Wow! It felt great.
I expected her to react as if electrocuted but her eyes remained closed.
I removed my hand for a while, then placed it on the other perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheek.
No response from Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
Slowly and very gently, I began to massage it.
She mumbled in her sleep and I went to my sofa.
However after a couple of minutes I came back.
I boldly put my Uncut Hindu Lund in her crack and traced the length of it, lingering a while on her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab didn’t move.
I badly wanted to spread her cheeks and see her pink Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass hole.
I did bring my face close to her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass crack and gently placed my lips on her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
The smell, the taste was simply out of this world.
I noticed that Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was quite damp.
I wondered whether Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was still asleep.
I was breathing deeply and I knew I had to go further, otherwise I would go crazy.
I decided to throw caution to the wind.
Placing both my hands on her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheeks I gently and expertly kneaded those massive Musalmān globes.
They felt wonderful and I was amazed at how soft and firm they were.
It wasn’t long before she began to whimper and grunt while her hips startled to wiggle.
I kept on massaging her, my Uncut Hindu Lund prying the cheeks open. Her legs spread wider and I noticed her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was soaking wet.
However she kept her eyes closed.
I spread her pink plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks wide open.
She gasped and her hips lurched.
I began to kiss it.
I traced my Uncut Hindu Lund down her Musalmān crack and inserted it into her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She gasped as I felt her Musalmān juices around my Uncut Hindu Lund. By now her hips were gyrating like mad and Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was moaning and groaning.
I straightened up but remained on my knees and grabbing her waist I turned her around till her knees came off the couch and landed on the floor.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab still tried to maintain the farce that Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was still asleep and kept her face in the cushions as her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass tilted up to face me.
I spread her legs and pushed the hem of her nightie completely over her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
There was nothing else on this earth that was more alluring than what was before me.
Holding my Uncut Hindu Lund, I guided the fat head to the small pucker of her sopping wet female Musalmān bum hole.
When I placed my dickhead on her flesh she gave a sharp squeal of protest and tried to retreat, but I grabbed her slim waist and slowly but firmly pushed it in.
She cried out painfully and I nearly passed out in pleasure.
It took some pressure but I soon got my Uncut Hindu Prick all the way into her chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had no alternative now except to speak at last.
“No, Durgesh! Stop!” she pleaded, but I was way past listening to her.
Slowly I began to pump her and soon enough I increased the tempo.
By now, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was begging and screaming.
Her hips bucked and wiggled as I pumped her rigorously and I leaned forward to slip my hands under her nightie and fondle her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts.
Her nipples were stiff and erect.
I pulled and pinched them viciously.
“Durgesh… no… fuck…please stop… oh fuck… no!” she breathed as I humped her like a madman.
Nevertheless, her gyrating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks moved in tempo with my wild animal Hindu thrusts.
The porno stars moaned in the background.
We didn’t care.
I suddenly pulled out and she moaned in protest.
But I was merely re-inserting it in her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I wasn’t greedy.
I wanted her to really enjoy it as well.
Naturally this was easier and the only sounds you could hear were my male Hindu thighs slapping against her smooth Musalmān bum.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was sobbing now.
“Durgesh, Baby… fuck me harder, darling… please don’t stop! Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wants to come on your ever infamous Uncut Hindu Lund!”
I didn’t reply.
All I did was grunt and groan.
Finally I felt her stiffen and she began to shudder.
Not long after I came violently and I didn’t even bother to withdraw.
We knelt like that for a long time while we panted and wheezed.
I withdrew and stood up.
I stood there uncertainly until Al Jalāl Al Tayyab got up and sat down.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wouldn’t look at me and a rush of guilt overwhelmed her.
At last she raised her eyes.
They were wet and I had never seen her looked so depressed in my life. All her ice had melted away.
“What have we done?” she asked quietly, as if to herself.
I now knew what I must do.
This was a despicable act to her we committed but I was going to use it for at least some sort of good.
“Nothing happened, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, and no one will ever know what happened if you do as I say.”
“What?” I detected a trace of hope in her voice and I smiled in triumph. All her guilt had washed away I was in control now.
“You are going to stop being a bitch from now on,” I said in a cool, firm voice, “You will be a good, humble ‘wife’ to me and you will be a loving mother to your daughters … Understood?”
“Yes,” she replied in a flat voice.
“Say yes sir.”
“Now run along and get me something to eat. I was feeling really hungry…”
When the rest of the family came back on Sunday they were shocked over the change in Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was suddenly nice and sweet and eager to please.
They wondered whether we had fought and I had won.
Well, in a way…
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ gave a grunt of annoyance as he watched the breaking news on the TV about the latest sex scandal involving a top army General and one of his aides, a married lady with two young kids.
The next clipping showed the now disgraced General telling some reporters that it had been a morally incorrect decision on his part.
He was sombre faced and looked a lot thinner than in some of the pictures shown earlier with his aide, now also known to be his mistress.
“Funny how they all wring their hands and say some sorry remarks AFTER they have been caught,” Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ said to his wife of over thirty years.
He glanced at At-Taubah Al Waħīd as Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ said that.
They were in their living room catching up with the news after dinner like they had always done for the past so many years.
They had made this a habit of theirs so that they could share some quiet time together, especially during the years their children were growing up and free time or “us” time was a commodity in real short supply.
Now both their children, Jamīl Jalāl Sheikħ and Kulsūm Jalāl Sheikħ, were adults and had their own families.
Jamīl Jalāl Sheikħ was 30 and an electrical engineer.
He had married his childhood sweetheart a few years ago and they had a three-year-old daughter.
Kulsūm Jalāl Sheikħ, at 28, was the younger one and had married a Hindu she met in her office.
They had a two-year-old son.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ himself was 59 years of age and At-Taubah Al Waħīd was a couple of years younger than him.
She was and always had been a fitness freak and that showed in her well-toned 5’8” body with big juicy-mama boobs and a derriere that still made heads turn.
No doubt the effects of gravity and age were discernible, but they were only just discernible.
Her brown hair had that just-right tinge of white streaks in it which went well with her green eyes and cheerful face and, as far as Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ was concerned, his wife was one hot mama and grandma.
Just a glance at his wife sitting next to him began a stirring in his loins.
He may be a year short of sixty but long walks on a daily basis along with At-Taubah Al Waħīd and power yoga helped in keeping his equipment going strong and steady.
Some of his colleagues were already having high BP, high sugar levels and related issues.
He was lucky.
At six feet, with silver grey hair and blue eyes, he looked more like a successful CEO than a retired technocrat.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ looked fondly at At-Taubah Al Waħīd.
Her favourite serial was coming up next and Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ shifted closer to her.
He placed his right hand on her thigh.
He knew her well.
A bit of foreplay in the midst of her favourite serial never failed to turn her on.
He could get lucky tonight.
“I suppose like any other two adults in an affair by mutual consensus, they never thought they would get caught one day,” she replied with a toss of her neatly coiffed brown hair, her green eyes fixed intently on the telly screen.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ turned back to watch the news.
A retired war veteran was now on the screen telling the world how difficult these constant foreign postings were.
The men would be away from their families for months in a row and, well, men would be men.
He then went on to say that the General in the dock for putting his pecker in the wrong hole had been to six foreign postings in the last ten years.
His manner and style of presentation left the listener in no doubt that the concerned lady aide of his, who was also married like he was, had been his only source of entertainment at an otherwise tough and cold frontier.
“Do you think the absence of the near and dear ones and the resultant loss of companionship can be considered to be a genuine and forgivable reason for adultery?” asked Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ .*
He was not sure but for a moment his wife’s body seemed to have tensed up and then relaxed.
He had been gently stroking her thigh and he was sure his palm had felt that sudden tensing but he could not really be sure why.
She was silent for a minute or two as though considering her thoughts and then she replied,
“We live in a society where gay marriages are no longer frowned upon, couples are in open marriages, live-in relationships are not even worth talking ’bout … in short, it would depend upon the individuals concerned. It would be wrong for anybody else, including us, to pass opinions on matters that are essentially personal in nature. ”
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ digested his wife’s reply.
It seemed a bit hazy, answering but then not really answering what he had asked.
By “individuals” had she meant the man and woman involved in the affair alone or perhaps also about their respective relationship with their spouse or partner also?
Did she mean that it was okay to cheat if the couple were in an unhappy relationship with their respective partners and craved the companionship of the opposite sex?
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ ‘s mind didn’t get any more time to ponder his wife’s reply as At-Taubah Al Waħīd shifted her position at that time and her legs opened up invitingly.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ wasted no time in moving his caressing fingers closer to her womanly treasure.
His hands grazed his wife’s panties and he felt the heat emanating from her core.
At-Taubah Al Waħīd’s serial was now playing on the TV and she was completely engrossed in the unfolding story.
With his hand playing over her panties, Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ took her juicy left boob in his mouth from over her flimsy nightie and began sucking upon it.
At-Taubah Al Waħīd responded by pulling his face into her breast and running her fingers through his hair.
This took him by surprise as she normally reached this level of arousal only towards the end of her favourite serial.
Her love tunnel had also attained a level of arousal that made sure her panties were soaking wet.
He pushed aside the fabric and began running his fingers up and down her vaginal opening.
At-Taubah Al Waħīd let out a low moan even as her eyes continued to remain fixed on the screen.
Her hand travelled down and into his boxer shorts.
She wrapped her fingers around his hardening shaft and began to gently stroke him.
She began pumping his shaft in tandem with his fingers moving in and out of her wet tunnel.
They continued with their foreplay for some more minutes till At-Taubah Al Waħīd breathed out her wish.
“Take me, Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ , take me now,” she whispered, breathing highly irregularly.
Now Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ was completely surprised.
It would be the first time they would be doing it on the sitting couch even before the serial came anywhere near to a close for the evening but he wasn’t complaining.
He quickly stepped out of his clothes and then watched At-Taubah Al Waħīd as she adjusted herself and stuck her ass up in the air, her nightie pulled up and around her waist.
By now the serial was all but forgotten.
For some moments Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ stood behind his wife, stroking his lengthening cock as he admired her smooth, round ass.
Her vaginal lips were parted and he could see the inner pink lips.
His cock had stretched out to its complete six-and-a-half inches; it was long and on the thinner side, the circumcised head a bright tomato red.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ moved closer and lovingly ran his palms over his wife’s buttock cheeks, caressing them, admiring them.
He then began running his tongue up and down her ass crack, leaving a trial of wet saliva.
“Ohhh …” moaned At-Taubah Al Waħīd as her womanly scent filled up the room.
Her eyes were closed tight and her mouth was half open as she enjoyed the sexual sensations building up inside her.
Finally, Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ stood behind his wife and began rubbing his knob up and down At-Taubah Al Waħīd’s wet slit.
“Aahhh … yes! Yes, put it in, Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ. I need you” she moaned out softly, knowing fully well that the real fun was just about to begin.*
The next morning Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ left early for his old firm’s office.
A couple of years earlier he had resigned from his post of Vice President.
His company really didn’t want him to go.
He had been with them for over twenty years, beginning as a site engineer and gradually making his way up the hierarchy.
But Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ was adamant.
He had discussed the issue with At-Taubah Al Waħīd before taking it up with his company.
With their children taking up jobs and starting families, the two felt they needed more “my time” for meeting their extending families more often.
In a couple of years At-Taubah Al Waħīd would also be putting in her papers.
They finally agreed that he would continue to be associated with them as a consultant.
The idea appealed to Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ as he could continue to be in touch with the construction industry while his old company would benefit from his vast experience.
As per understanding, Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ would visit the office two to three times a week unless something important came up.
This gave him ample free time to pursue his hobbies, namely golf.
On the other hand, At-Taubah Al Waħīd held a senior post in the accounts department of a company having a chain of retail shops across the state.
She had been with them for the past ten years, ever since they relocated from Dallas to Houston when he had been promoted and had to move over to the head office.
In fact, it was the hard work put in by her in her previous firm in Dallas and the glowing letter of appreciation given by her old boss Durgesh that had helped her get the new job.
I had been well acquainted with the owners of the retail chain and when they had decided to move over to Houston.
In fact the owners were Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement.
Despite my constant criticism of them, they wanted to keep me on their side.
When I got in touch with them they agreed to help At-Taubah Al Waħīd.
She got the job.
The two were grateful to me for that.
Back in Dallas, At-Taubah Al Waħīd had joined one of my companies as soon as Kulsūm Jalāl Sheikħ was old enough to go to school and had been there from that time until their move to Houston, almost fourteen years.
The decision to move to Houston had not been much of a problem as by then, both the children had finished school and gone off to college.
Given her long association with his company,
I went the extra mile in ensuring she got the job.
There were times when Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ would fondly recollect their years spent in Dallas.
Both their kids had been born and raised there and sometimes he wished they had settled there after retirement but At-Taubah Al Waħīd had not been keen.
As she reasoned, they were closer to their kids and grandchildren from Houston and that mattered more than the nostalgic memories of the past.
Better to live in the present than the past had been her line of reasoning.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ didn’t see any reason to argue with that and with the consultancy offer, it didn’t seem to be a bad choice at all.*
That evening there were some more updates in the prime time news about the fallen Hindu General and his Musalmān mistress.
Looking at the frantic media coverage the affair was getting, it seemed as though this was the next best thing to have happened for the press industry since the sad and tragic events surrounding Lady Diana’s demise.
According to the newsreader, the woman involved had told her friends that she regretted the damage done to her family and others by her affair.
“You know what?” said Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ to his wife as she handed him his glass of wine. “She says she regrets the hurt she has caused her family but she has nowhere mentioned that she’s sorry for the affair. How can a woman … or for that matter a man … be so ambitious and totally focused upon climbing the corporate ladder? Did it never once cross her mind that she was being deceitful and breaking the trust bestowed upon her by her husband?”
“Hey, I don’t agree with you.How can you be so sure that this affair was all about ambition and glamour?” replied At-Taubah Al Waħīd softly as she sipped her wine.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ was taken aback by the reply.
He looked sharply at his wife who continued to stare at the TV screen.
“That lady out there is not a twenty something immature girl but a fully mature forty-year-old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān woman! You mean she deliberately and consciously made the decision to step out of her marriage? Are you saying that she developed feelings which should have been reserved for her husband and ventured headlong into a steamy affair ignoring even her children and the repercussions it could have on their future upbringing?” asked Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ incredulously.*
By now the news channel was showing some old clippings where the woman could be seen doing push-ups along with the person interviewing her.
It had been taken around the time the mistress had released a book about her Hindu lover, written by her.
It was the Hindu General’s biography.
Of course, at that time the world didn’t know that the General and the writer were also sleeping together when not discussing the book.
“Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ , women and men don’t think alike. Try and understand what I’m trying to say. If one were to ask women their most cherished moment, most of them will tell you about a picnic outing incident or coffee at a bistro one rainy afternoon, but the guy involved would most probably recount the various positions they had sex in AFTER returning home from the bistro.”
For some moments neither spoke as Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ tried to understand the point his wife was trying to make.
Then At-Taubah Al Waħīd continued,
“During the time the Musalmān lady was drafting the biography, the two of them were thrown together for many months, if not years, and most probably gradually developed a mutual bond of sorts, a coming together of two minds.”
“And bodies too,” replied Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ testily.
It seemed as though his wife was condoning the actions of the erring couple.
At-Taubah Al Waħīd pressed her lips together on hearing her moralist Musalmān husband’s outburst and continued to gaze steadily at the TV screen.
“That Hindu is old enough to play grandfather to her young kids. At least he should have shown the maturity … which our leaders thought he had before assigning him those important foreign postings … for ensuring that the mutual infatuation did not cross any unreasonable limits,” continued Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ in a tone he normally reserved for lecturing his juniors.
“Ah! If only one’s heart could think and behave rationally like one’s mind. It was an affair of the heart, fully consummated by the two,” At-Taubah Al Waħīd whispered.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ was flabbergasted.
He could not believe what he had just heard his wife say.
The way At-Taubah Al Waħīd was going on was as if this was another episode of one of her tear-jerker soap operas.
“For the sake of her family and young children, if nothing else, I hope her husband thinks of her betrayal in the same way as you do,” he replied testily.
There it was once again.
He was sure he felt her muscles tense up on hearing him say that.
At-Taubah Al Waħīd was sitting a bit straighter too.
Perhaps Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ should not have sounded as harsh as he did, thought Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ .
It seemed they had unconsciously taken sides here.
He had sided with the betrayed Musalmān guy while his wife had sided with the adulterous Musalmān woman.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ picked up the remote and changed channels.*
The next few days Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ really didn’t get time to follow up on the affair of the fallen Hindu General and his married Musalmān mistress.
He and At-Taubah Al Waħīd were expecting their children and grandchildren over for Thanksgiving and At-Taubah Al Waħīd had given him a long list of things to do.
There were items to be purchased for the little ones who were, it seems, in constant touch with their grandmother through their parents’ mobile numbers.
Then there was the precious chinaware to be safely put aside in the attic.
The idea was to give their grandchildren enough open space to run around freely without crashing into something expensive.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ got so involved in his chores that he decided to forgo his golfing session.
Little did he know that his decision would change his life forever.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ spent the whole day wrapping up the expensive dinner set items in soft cloths and old newspapers and then putting them in cardboard boxes which were then hauled up to the attic.
That done, he began moving some of the other fragile living room items to the garage.
He didn’t hear the doorbell ring the first time as he had been busy putting things in place in the garage.
By the time he re-entered the main house, the guy from the courier service was more or less keeping his finger continuously pressed to the bell.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ glanced around quickly before making way to the front door.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ still had a lot of things to complete.
“You the Sheikħs?” asked the courier boy nonchalantly, as he obviously shifted his chewing gum from one side of his mouth to another. “Parcel for you,” he continued in the same breath as he held out a paper for Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ to sign.
“These kids of today just have no manners,” grumbled Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ as Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ slammed the door shut.
He put the box on the kitchen table at the same time as looking to see who the sender was. It bore his name,
“M.J. Sheikħ,” and was from a legal firm in Dallas.
The fact that it was sent by somebody from their old town raised his curiosity.
Perhaps, had he not been so preoccupied, he would have noticed that the name ” M.J. Sheikħ ” had the prefix ‘Mrs.’ Too that stood for “At-Taubah Al Waħīd”, instead of Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ.
Perhaps he would have then let At-Taubah Al Waħīd open up the parcel after she had returned from work.
But things didn’t happen that way.
His Bhogyantrānk had gone down more now.
Muħammad Jalāl Sheikħ picked up a kitchen knife and slit open the packing tape.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam