At that moment, Sāliħah Faisal pressed her mouth hard to my neck and blew out hard as both of our orgasms overtook us.
My breath was hard and labored as I tried to be quiet.
My heart pounded hard in my chest.
Sāliħah Faisal sat there on my still erect Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund, entirely buried into her Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot, until we both were satisfied.
“Good morning baby,” Sāliħah Faisal winked as she got up off me and walked to the shower.
I sat in the bed, with my back against the headboard amazed at Sāliħah Faisal‘s sexual appetite.
Right as I heard the sound of the shower come on in the bathroom, I heard a quiet knock on our door.
Making sure the blanket was pulled up over me; I grabbed my pajama bottoms and tucked them under the blankets as I said,
It was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
She had obviously had time to dress or something because when she peeked her head in, she was wearing a loose fitting top on and boy short pajama bottoms.
She leaned close and kissed me on the cheek.
My eyes couldn’t help but notice how seductive she looked crawling on all fours towards me on the bed.
Her shirt was open just enough that I could see her breasts hanging freely under the shirt.
I smiled as if it was everything normal,
She was deliberately seducing me going to the extent to exhibit her entire nude feminine charms to me.
I never wanted to disclose on her that I was really upset on it.
What Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm had done, couldn’t be undone now, ever.
“Good morning sweetheart.” I said, “How did you sleep?”
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm sat next to me.
“Allah, Oh my God, Durgesh, I slept amazing. My bed is so comfortable and I can’t wait to see more of Kashmir valley. Thank you so much for bringing us here on vacation.”
I leaned over and kissed Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm on top of her head, “Anything for my little girl.”
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm‘s cheeks flushed pink as she said,
“You spoil me, Durgesh. You are the best in the world!” With that, she bounced off the bed and made for the door.
My eyes watched her, more specifically the way her wonderful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān ass swished in the boy shorts.
I had seen now it nude.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm turned around with a gleam in her eyes,
“Now you and Ammī don’t take too long getting ready. We have a lot to see and do.”
I smiled at her.
She blew an air kiss to me as she walked out the door.
“Best in the world,” I thought.
Yeah, would she wonder that she’d given me a hard on?*
The family had a wonderful time on the shore of the jheel later that afternoon.
Sāliħah Faisal elected to lie out and try to relax.
She’d slathered on a ton of sunblock before coming outside.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm and her brothers couldn’t stay out of the water.
The boys, as well as I were awe-struck when Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm did a backwards flip off of a nearby high rock into the water.
Devesh clapped, “Impressive!” as Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm popped up out of the water.
In a mocking bow, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm looked at her brother, “Thank you… thank you.”
Shubhesh didn’t seem that impressed.
I was out on the shore of the jheel with Sāliħah Faisal.
I observed all of it and was very impressed.
Was there anything not perfect about Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm? At about that Moment she was demonstrating her handstand skills in the water to Devesh.
Shaking her head, Sāliħah Faisal winked at me,
“My daughter is such a show off. I wonder where she gets that from.”
I laughed loudly,
“Ha! You’re not accusing Muħammad Naåīm, are you? And what’s this Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter,’ stuff? If I recall you had something to do with it.”
The playful banter went on like this for the rest of the day.
Around six, the family went out for dinner and a movie.
By the time we returned to our dull jheel side condo, the boys were exhausted.
Sāliħah Faisal shooed them into the house and told them to get showered and ready for bed.
As she expected, she got no rebuttal from them as they were both tired.
It wasn’t too long after that Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm reappeared with bikini bottoms on and a loose fitting mesh top on. She had a bikini top on under it.
“No, not really Ammī,” Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm countered back. “I love the water, you know that. It’s a perfect time of day. The shore of the jheel isn’t crowded and the water is always warm.”
Sāliħah Faisal looked at me for some back up, but I had found the kitchen interesting all of a sudden.
With that, the argument was settled and Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm walked out the sliding glass door towards the shore of the jheel.
Sāliħah Faisal looked at me.
I had miraculously reappeared in the living room.
I knew by the way she was looking at me that an argument or at least debate was about to come.
Before Sāliħah Faisal could open her mouth, I said,
“Sāliħah Faisal, she’s nineteen years old and you have to stop treating her like she’s six. As much as you or I may not like it, your daughter is an adult. She doesn’t have to have our permission to do anything really.”
Sāliħah Faisal cut me off,
“But she lives in our house and she’s not exercising good judgment.”
I looked at Sāliħah Faisal, “And I wonder what your Ammī would have thought about her nineteen year old daughter sneaking over to my dorm room in the middle of the night. She’s just swimming Sāliħah Faisal. Thank God, we’re not dealing with her sneaking around. ”
Sāliħah Faisal shook her head,
“Oh Durgesh, you’re hopeless.”
She knew she’d once again lost the argument.
She leaned over and kissed her ‘husband’.
“I’m going to our room to watch a movie. Care to join me?”
“I’m going to pass this time, babe. I’m going to sit out here and wait for Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm to come back in the house so I can lock up once she does.”
“Ohhhhh, but she’s nineteen,” Sāliħah Faisal said sarcastically as she walked upstairs to our room.
I went into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of juice and took it out onto the back deck.
I could see Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm out in the water.
I could also see her bikini and mesh top on the shore of the jheel.
‘What am I going to do with her?’ I thought to myself, ‘One more Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was twenty eight years old when she seduced me in the moonlight. Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm is nineteen only, yet she is crazy to have my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into her nineteen years old, immensely young Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
The girls today!
Should I oblige her as well and fuck her too?
Let her to be one more Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Well, I should better watch and see how the more else she is crazy to fuck me.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm saw me sitting on the deck and made her way towards the shore of the jheel.
I pretended to be looking elsewhere as she got out of the water.
She slipped her bikini bottoms on.
They stuck to her like glue because she was still wet.
Not even bothering to put her bikini top back on, she pulled the mesh top over her head.
Her hair was wet and hanging in long strands over her shoulders.
She made her way to the deck.
I found myself looking at her body again as I sipped my juice.
I could clearly see her breasts under the mesh top.
They were full and perfectly round with gorgeous rose-tinted nipples in their tanned centers.
Taking another sip before answering, I just as coyly responded,
“Nothing you can have, my dear.”
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm smacked me on the leg as she said,
With an enormous tease in my voice, I smiled back, cunningly,
“Your Ammī would disagree with that.”
Leaning back and stretching her legs out, I had to make sure I kept my eyes teasingly focused on the water.
We both sat outside quietly just watching the ocean waves rock back and forth in the evening light.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was looking at me somewhat angrily from time to time.
I also noticed she watched me carefully whether I had an erection for her or not.
When she found there was erection, she smiled triumphantly and tried to touch my erection pretending something unusual was there.
She touched my erection several times pretending it was an accident.
Once even she grabbed my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund entirely unashamed of it, pretending she wasn’t aware of it that she was holding my Uncut Hindu Lund itself in her hand.
I watched her.
I myself never tried to tell her what actually she was doing.
She kept grabbed it for almost half an hour nonstop pretending unawareness.
Was it possible?
I kept smiling sarcastically at her.
Suddenly she brought my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund out, swallowed it into her mouth and started sucking it madly.
I kept smiling.
I never stopped her.
She had tried to humiliate me reminding me that I was sixty five.
I let her suck me as much as she wanted.
“Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah!!” she whispered, “You are right. Ammī would never agree with me. The lucky bitch!”
She swallowed it entirely.
With that, she walked majestically to her room.
Our vacation seemed to rapidly go by as it was filled with long days at the shore of the jheel and nights of luaus and good music.
Sāliħah Faisal tried to relax as much as she could, but had to limit herself as her skin was prone to burning.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm, on the other hand, took every opportunity to get as much sun and be in the water as she could.
She was angry however that I never went to her room despite her open expressed invitation.
As unashamed of myself as I was, I never stopped myself from getting up early in the morning and watching Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm as she did her morning yoga and swim.
I marveled at her seemingly careless attitude about walking around naked.
However, she didn’t suck me again.
She was exhibiting if I don’t need her, it’s okay with her too.
Moreover, now, she never acknowledged my presence.
Was that Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm had seen me from the second day I’d been watching?
She knew I was watching her and something about it excited her.
So on those mornings she made sure she accentuated her moves in such a way that I was sure to get a good view of her.
She loved though that I never acknowledged or admitted that I’d been watching her.
If she were, she wouldn’t have sucked me so boldly.
Now, it was her self-respect that I didn’t accept her such an open express offer of herself.
She was comfortable in her sexuality and it didn’t bother her that her Ammī’s live in relationship partner saw her.
I was NOT her father exactly.
And it was enough for her to offer herself to me that if I wanted she was available too for sex along with her Ammī, Sāliħah Faisal.
She knew men looked at her and she’d had many offers of sexual favors that she declined curtly.
Was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm really in love with me?
Nevertheless, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm created opportunities for me to see her with nothing on.
It showed she hadn’t accepted her defeat however.
She was cautious though to make sure Sāliħah Faisal never did find it.
Like the morning, I had to come “find” Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm, because she’d been out sunbathing, in the nude of course.
She had her sunglasses on and pretended to be sleeping when I came upon her.
She noticed I stood there for several minutes before attempting to ‘awaken’ her.
She knew I was teasing her as well as she was teasing me.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm too believed in waiting and watching.
The family was already up and her brothers were itching to get to the shore of the jheel.
She heard her Ammī tell me to go check on her and tell her to hurry up if she was coming with us.
As Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm heard me coming down the hall, she turned over on to her stomach, pulled her leg up just enough so that her magnificent, perfectly round, plump, heavy, Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Pakistani Sunni Musalmān butt was perched in the air, and the sheet was pulled down just below.
She closed her eyes, as if she was sleeping, when I knocked lightly on her door.
When she didn’t answer, I gently opened the door a bit and said,
“Hey Ħamd,” just as I caught site of her.
Against my wishes, my body reacted.
My eyes took in the sight before me, and for the first time in all my gazing at her over this vacation my mind wondered what it would be like to touch her, to feel her, to be inside her.
Even the thought alerted my mind.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm waited a Moment after I spoke before she pretended to respond.
Opening her eyes slightly, as if the sunlight was bothering her, she turned her body just slightly so that I now could see her left breast fully, as she said,
Even then not stupefied, I smiled at her.
I never tried to hide it.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm smiled at me triumphantly.
“Control yourself, baby girl,” I smiled.
She saw in my eyes,
“I want to fuck you.”
“You and your young Musalmān ladyfriends!” I smiled.
“Give it what it needs. I am ready. No problem at all.”
“The problem is with your Ammī.”
“Nonsense, she left my Abbū to fuck you. She hasn’t any right to stop me from doing the same thing she is herself crazy for.”
Suddenly she pushed me on her bed on my back.
“Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm,” I warned her.
“Shut up!” Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm shouted, “I can’t wait any more. You are playing games with me. I was ready to play them with you. Nevertheless, there’s a limit of everything.” Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm pulled my clothes out, with my pant fist, then my underwear and then she took my ever rocketing Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Kashmīrī Sunni Musalmān mouth.
Kashmīr kī Kalī!
I found myself hardening more in her mouth suddenly.
She laughed triumphantly,
“That’s my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu! Why are you afraid of fucking me! I don’t have any suicidal Bomb into my Kashmīrī Sunni Musalmān Choot! My Ammī, Al Sāliħah Al Faisal is a Mujāhidah, not myself. You are fucking an Al Mujāhidah already when you fuck my Ammī.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Āmnah Azhar laughed impishly,
In Surah (56)AI-Waqi`ah the same thing has been described as Kitab-um-Maknun (the hidden and preserved Book) and in Surah (85)AI-Buruj 22 as Lauh-i Mahfuz (the Preserved Tablet), that is, the Tablet whose writing cannot be effaced, which is secure from every kind of interference.
By saying that the Qur’an is inscribed in Umm al-Kitab, attention has been drawn to an important truth.
Different Books had been revealed by Allah in different ages to different Prophets for the guidance of different nations in different languages, but aII these Books invited mankind to one and the same Faith: they regarded one and the same thing as the Truth; they presented one and the same criterion of good and evil; they propounded the same principles of morality and civilization; in short, they brought one and the same Din (Religion).
The reason was that their source and origin was the same, only words were different; they had the same meaning and theme which is inscribed in a Source Book with Allah, and whenever there was a need, He raised a Prophet and sent down the same meaning and subject-matter clothed in a particular diction according to the environment and occasion.
Had Allah willed to raise the Prophet Muhammad (upon whom be His peace) in another nation instead of the Arabs, He would have sent down the same Qur’an in the language of that nation.”’
“What do you want to say actually, Āmnah Azhar?”
“Don’t tell me that you didn’t understand.” Āmnah Azhar smiled, “I would never believe. You are too wise that no one can believe you didn’t understand.”
“And why does Allah need to keep this Source Book with him?”
“Simple, so that there could never be any alteration Allah doesn’t want in the Source Book.” Āmnah Azhar smiled triumphantly, “Stupid question. I never thought you can’t understand even such a simple necessity.”
“I see.” I smiled patiently, “So, you think Allah can save this Source Book, Alkitāb, from any unwanted alteration only if it’s with Him? As soon as it’s out of His exclusive possession, Allah is, Shanno Mitrah, never capable to keep it safe from it? You really think Allah is that much incapable, Shanno Mitrah sham Varuñah shanno bhavatvaryamā!”*
Her partner and Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had just broken up.
It wasn’t that big of a deal, but she had probably been the one Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was most ready to settle down with.
They’d been together for a year.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had thought that they were on a great track that had a promising future.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was optimistic that within the coming years there would be equal rights and at least general acceptance of their lifestyle.
However, when Al Samīnah Al Faraħ told her that she didn’t think that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was truly a “lesbian”, she took offense.
It didn’t matter that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was genuinely attracted to her, or that they had great chemistry.
In the end, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ wasn’t “real”.
Her bisexuality was a problem and it brought to an end what seemed so bright only days before.
As a result, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ ended up back home over New Year’s Day weekend.
That’s kind of how Al Samīnah Al Faraħ got into the situation that she currently found herself in.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was thinking that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ would just get some time away from the pressures of office and the break up and take a breather.
Her sisters, normally her support crew, were off enjoying their own lives in different parts of the world and were probably out working it with someone special for the big January 1.
Not Al Samīnah Al Faraħ.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ would just be home alone with me.
That’s the other part of her situation, I.
Despite being extremely loyal to the Pseudo Islam and Kashmir valley, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ loved me to death, but sometimes I was a bit over mature.
Growing up with a coop immensely full of hens, I learned almost everything about them.
Three daughters and their Ammī.
Naturally, I got quite clued in.
When Al Samīnah Al Faraħ asked to come over for the holiday, I had promised her a fun care-free time.
And I had delivered.
I managed to take her mind off her break up, her ex, and getting acclimated to a life of singleness all over again.
Course, I managed to do that by getting us both smashed.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had driven the hour from office to the house Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had grown up in and had arrived to find a sizable amount of alcoholic beverages and liquors spread out across the counter tops.
Never surrendered to me for keeping Alcohol out of their life.
Sometimes, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ thought whether Durgesh is really right.
They wanted to establish Islamic supremacy on Hindus either this way or that way.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was neither nude nor he needed to.
I was nude and serving his extremely beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Āmnah Azhar with my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund penetrating her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot profoundly.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was lying on his back on the bed.
Āmnah Azhar wasn’t alone enjoying his such services.
Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī was the everfirst that used her younger brother’s tongue for it.
Then it was Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī, their Ammī.
Then their beautiful Musalmān houseladies.
His tongue was so expert in this service now that he was more popular among needy beautiful Musalmān houseladies and their beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends as a tongue service provider than as a normal man even.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī even enjoyed our Ashvinātam sexual orgasms when our secretions naturally fell into his open mouth.
I knew their activities were not normal.
After Narendr Modi won the election 2014 and became the 15th Prime Minister of India, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s such services were so much in demand that he approached other similar minded Pseudo Musalmīn friends of him and started a regular tongue service providing commercial network.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad and Rājesh Rājpūt were approached, and they delightfully congratulated Al Nādir Al Ghāzī and his similar cuckold Musalmān friends for providing such superb services to Hindus and their Musalmān beloveds.
“It’s a totally new approach. Of course, Durgesh, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, and similar over humane Hindus would never appreciate it, but the Hindu society is not made of such ever impractical persons only.”
“Let’s get you ready,” Lākhan Singh said.
He stood in front of Shamīmah Iftikħār and expertly pulled her nightgown over her head.
Shamīmah Iftikħār couldn’t believe this was happening.
Now Shamīmah Iftikħār was breathing so hard it felt like panting.
Lākhan Singh put his hands on her ankles.
“Relax,” he said.
Then he propped her legs up on the couch so Shamīmah Iftikħār was spread wide open.
Shamīmah Iftikħār ached for release.
Shamīmah Iftikħār had already gotten herself going before, now this was something out of a fantasy.
Shamīmah Iftikħār tried to grab his head and keep it there.
He took her hand and stepped aside.
Shamīmah Iftikħār realized someone was standing there- no, five people.
The crowd outside was now in the house.
He was maybe twenty-five with a smiling, eager face.
Brown hair, average build, and naked.
Shamīmah Iftikħār stared at it.
4-5 inches long.
Her stomach felt tight, her hands shook a little.
He stroked himself for a few seconds, eyes locked on her naked skin.
Shamīmah Iftikħār saw a tiny drop of precum on the tip of its head.
Shamīmah Iftikħār closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.
This is what Shamīmah Iftikħār wanted, right?
But Shamīmah Iftikħār can’t!
Not like this.
Her breath stopped.
Shamīmah Iftikħār felt Lākhan Singh squeeze her hand again.
Well, that’s what they said was at stake!
Vīr Vikram Pratāp pushed all the way in, then slowly started fucking Shamīmah Iftikħār in a steady rhythm.
Each one felt different.
Each experience was amazing.
Rājesh Rājpūt laughed.
“We Pakistani Sunni Musalmān women love Durgesh, but we hate you, Rājesh Rājpūt! Shankar Mahāpralayankar! Sidrah Aħmad! You are crazy persons. Durgesh is of course radically different from you communal animal Hindus.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed.
“Rājesh Rājpūt, Shamīmah Iftikħār, the great Pakistani Sunni Musalmān politician loves Durgesh, the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, instead of us. Durgesh is really a miracle. Entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies want to get his Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into their Musalmān Choots without any single exception even.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī and her ever enthusiast Young Musalmān Lady Brigade is managing it all. they cunningly, shrewdly and intelligently plan to advertise the fantastic attributes of Durgesh’s Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund. I see even every beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot is crazy to get it inside her.”*
It was still dark outside when I opened my eyes.
My Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund was still buried entirely into her still miraculously tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Alas, Muħammad Naåīm couldn’t give her what I could, neither money, nor sex.
I smiled to myself as I looked at it.
It was the 3rd night of our ten-day vacation in Kashmir valley.
It was the reason Sāliħah Faisal separated herself from Muħammad Naåīm.
“It’s wrong. It’s a sin in Islam.” Muħammad Naåīm had refused Sāliħah Faisal outright.
“Well,” Sāliħah Faisal thundered, “I’m your wife, and I love it.”
Muħammad Naåīm was startled
“Isn’t my ass extraordinarily beautiful?”
“Of course, it is. Of course, it is. But it doesn’t mean…”
“What do you mean ‘Why?’? It’s wrong. It’s a sin.” Muħammad Naåīm was quite surprised.
“I hinted you before our marriage.” Sāliħah Faisal said curtly.
“You said you’d see to it.”
“That’s right, Sāliħah Faisal, but…”
“No but, you promised me. I need it.”
Muħammad Naåīm didn’t oblige her and it brought Sāliħah Faisal ultimately to me.
Still smiling, I quietly slid out of bed and went into the bathroom to relieve myself.
Turning the light back off before I opened the bathroom door into the bedroom, as not to disturb Sāliħah Faisal, I quietly grabbed my robe from the chaise at the foot of the bed and slipped it on.
Opening the door of our room, I quietly crept out and walked down the hall of our dull jheel side condo.
HVSI owned several beautiful enormous structures in Kashmir valley.
I always enjoyed this time of the day.
I enjoyed watching the sunrise before the world awoke and got its day started.
Making sure as not to make any noise and wake the kids up, I put some coffee on.
Once the kids were up our day would be nonstop.
Well, at least when the boys woke up.
My boys from Sāliħah Faisal, Devesh and Shubhesh, were 11 and 9.
Her oldest was Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
She was 19.
Once my coffee was ready, I poured myself a cup and walked to the sliding glass door that lead out to the deck.
I walked out on to the deck, quietly slid the door and closed behind me.
I pulled a chair close to the edge of the deck and sat down in it.
Promptly propping my feet up on the railing in front of me.
I inhaled deeply the aromatic aroma of my coffee before enjoying the first sip.
I was a man at peace.
I owned my own consulting firms under HVSI and it made a good living for my entire families.
My friend, Muħammad Naåīm’s wonderful extremely beautiful wife, of 22 years, Sāliħah Faisal, was a wedding consultant.
Between the two of us, our incomes afforded us opportunities I would have loved to have as a child myself.
As I reflected, I thought about our children.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was 19 and was my girl to the core.
Her own Abbū, Muħammad Naåīm, was a loser in her eyes.
She was sympathetic for him, yet he wasn’t her hero, I was.
A loser can get sympathies, but none wants to be as him.
He was ‘poor Abbū’, as far as Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was concerned.
She had graduated high school the year prior and was just completing her first year of junior college.
I was so proud of her.
No one could deny that Sāliħah Faisal’s oldest was a beauty indeed.
With her stunning looks, she had landed her first modeling gig at sixteen.
At 5’7, she had chocolate brown eyes and they were framed by long spiky lashes.
Her hair that hung just at her shoulder blades was thick and a light honey brown color.
It complemented her flawless creamy coffee complexion.
What made it worse, from a fatherly perspective, was how curvaceously shaped her body was.
Although she modeled, she was no string bean.
I had no idea her exact chest size or clothing size, but I did know that she had very full breasts, a curvy waist and an ass, that when she wore a bikini made men do double takes.
This didn’t bring comfort to me, however.
That was the baby girl they were ogling.
Nevertheless, what surprised me even more was how comfortable Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was with her body.
Not that I wanted Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter, to have a distorted body image, but she was comfortable to the point that around the house she wore things that Sāliħah Faisal would have to remind her to cover up because she had brothers.
At the shore of the jheel, it was even worse.
The back of her bikini bottom, if one could call it that did little to hide her wonderful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān assets.
I always teased her and called her double trouble because she had brains and beauty both.
I would tell her she would be a formidable match for any man.
I didn’t worry as much about Devesh and Shubhesh as I did Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
Devesh was more a rough and tumble boy, whereas Shubhesh was the more sensitive one.
I chalked that up to the fact that Shubhesh was definitely an Ammī’s boy through and through.
Sāliħah Faisal babied him almost to a fault.
That was the one area Sāliħah Faisal and I, as parents, disagreed with each other the most.
I felt that she babied Shubhesh too much and was making him too dependent on her.
Sāliħah Faisal felt that I never came to her defense where Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was concerned.
Sāliħah Faisal and Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm butted heads, the older Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm got.
That, however, doesn’t mean that they didn’t have a good mother daughter relationship, but Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm’s fiercely independent spirit definitely had its moments when it clashed with Sāliħah Faisal’s over protective mothering.
When Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm turned 18 and started being a bit less conservative, in her manner of dress, that was when they really started butting heads.
Less conservative meaning her clothes tended to accentuate that body that I was so cautious for her about.
However, I believed Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm to be an adult and she should be allowed to make her own decisions.
I was so lost in my musings that I didn’t seem to notice the time passing and the sky was just starting to lighten.
As my eyes scanned out on the shore of the jheel, I noticed someone out there.
My, I thought, someone’s out here even earlier than I am.
As my eyes focused, the person appeared to be maybe doing yoga out on the shore of the jheel.
It was hard for me to tell.
I leaned a bit forward in my chair and let my eyes focus.
It appeared to be a woman.
She was on her back with her legs tucked under her.
Her back was arched though pushing her chest high into the sky.
Her arms were stretched out beside her and her head resting on the sand.
The light in the sky was lightening up enough that I was starting to see a little clearer.
My eyes widened and my mouth gaped open as I discerned two things at once.
One, the woman wasn’t wearing a bikini top.
I could clearly see the definition of her full breasts.
Her nipples pert and pointing in the air.
But secondly, and more importantly, that woman wasn’t just any woman, it was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
I was dumbfounded.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was topless and doing yoga on the shore of the dull jheel.
As if completely oblivious to me sitting there, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm got up from the position she’d been lying in.
She stood with her back to me.
I suddenly remembered Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm doing the same thing?
I, still sitting there now saw that she was not just topless but bottomless as well.
Something in my brain told me to get up and go in the house.
However, I sat there almost paralyzed.
I’d seen Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm’s butt before, but covered a little at least with a bikini bottom.
But now, with her back to me I had a completely unobstructed view, and the view was incredible.
Her cheeks were plump and full. The kind that a man could lose my load over doing her from behind.
I felt a distinct reaction to this thought.
My face didn’t froze, in horror, as I realized looking at Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter’s ass was giving me a hard on.
It was normal for me now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Just Eighteen Just Adult and Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh movements had made my brain convinced that it was normal for me to lust and have sex with even Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān girls.
If I didn’t oblige them, they turned out to be my bitterest enemy.
While if I obliged them, they were my everbest friends instead.
“It’s a delicate medical matter to take a cherry of a Just Eighteen Just Adult girl.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan argued, “It’s better the everbest sex therapist must do it, instead of an immensely inexperienced new learner.”
I wasn’t startled to find out that their blind followers and fans immediately grabbed it as the utmost important medical necessity.
Without turning back, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm walked toward the water.
I watched as Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm walked further into the surf.
The further she walked, the more of her body was hidden as it submerged in the water.
I made my getaway into the house when I watched her dunk herself under the water.
Almost in a daze, I made my way back to Sāliħah Faisal and my room. Sāliħah Faisal was just waking up as I walked in.
She smiled at me as I came through the door.
“Hey stud,” she said suggestively, all the while smiling.
Momentarily undecided, I had to pull my thoughts together.
“Good morning sexy,” I said to Sāliħah Faisal as I crawled on to our bed.
Once I settled myself beside Sāliħah Faisal, Sāliħah Faisal pulled herself up on top of my lap and straddled me.
She ground herself against me and was pleased at the reaction she got. Little did she know, though, my reaction wasn’t necessarily due to her grinding against me.
I hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
I saw the glint in Sāliħah Faisal’s eyes and I knew what she wanted.
I made the gesture to slide my pajama bottoms down and Sāliħah Faisal raised herself up enough for me to do so.
My eyes closed and my breath inhaled as I felt my friend, Muħammad Naåīm’s wonderful extremely beautiful wife, wrap around me.
Opening my eyes, I looked at Sāliħah Faisal and put my index finger in front of my mouth in a “shhh” motion.
Whispering, Sāliħah Faisal asked, “why?”
“”We don’t need the kids to hear,” I whispered back.
“They’re asleep, they’ll never know,” Sāliħah Faisal whispered back with a bit more volume.
I furrowed my brow at her,
“No, they’re not. Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm is awake.”
Sāliħah Faisal’s eyes widened,
She loved how rigid and hard I was as she slammed herself down harder and harder upon it.
Sāliħah Faisal kept this motion up as if endlessly.
Until my eyes signaled to her that, I was about to cum.
4. On History
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