The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies: 1- Of my Musalmān friends-43
Posted: February 4, 2016 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Asmā Al Salmān, Al Muħammad Al Åbbās, Al Muħammad Al Raħmān, Al Muħammad Al Zāfar, Al Nādirah Al Åzīm, Al Raħmān Al Åbbās family, Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān, Al Saåīdah Al Zāfar, Al Saħar Al Åzīm, Al Sāmiyah Al Raħmān, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Raħmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Nādirah Åzīm, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentThe Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat
Chapter 43
Al Raħmān Al Åbbās family
Durgesh Al Saåīdah Al Zāfar
Durgesh Al Asmā Al Salmān
Durgesh Al Asmā Al SalmānNādirah Åzīm called out as her husband and I walked into the kitchen.
“Okay, boys, I’m heading out now!”
“I’ll see you later, honey.” Nādirah Åzīm said, kissing Muħammad Raħmān as she began to step out the door.
Before she walked out, she turned to me:
“And you, ever young Hindu man. You better not get into trouble with my extremely beautiful naughty Musalmān lady friends while we’re gone tonight. They are sex starved and they may drain you out of your so called infinite Hindu sexual prowess even. I don’t prohibit you to satisfy them sexually if they need it. Nevertheless I’ve warned you how ravenous they are sexually. Watch yourself not to be drained out completely.”
Muħammad Raħmān laughed,
“Hey, Al Nādirah Al Åzīm, you are warning my Hindu stepfather as if you yourself need his skills after you return.”
Nādirah Åzīm smiled teasingly at her naughty husband.
“Maybe your joke come true sometimes, Muħammad Raħmān. Don’t kid me thus every now and then. I know you believe Durgesh and I too have extramarital affair despite our constant denials.”
Muħammad Raħmān laughed.
“I can’t believe Durgesh is so available to you and you are still loyal to me.”
“Are you impotent?” Nādirah Åzīm teased him.
“You know I’m not.” Muħammad Raħmān smiled, “Nevertheless, I’m not Durgesh after all. He is the Sex god, everyone believes it.”
Nādirah Åzīm didn’t reply Muħammad Raħmān.
She turned to me once more,
“We might not come back until very late or early tomorrow morning.”
“I know, I know, Nādirah Åzīm.” I started, “I’ll just be here serving your needy beautiful Musalmān lady friends. However, they aren’t ravenous. Their husbands leave them ravenous.”
“Okay, my over human Hindu stepfather in law, you are already called the Hindu Al Buåūlatul Muslimāt. They claim we entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies are having sex with you actually, however much we deny it. Nobody believes us even a bit. It’s all right. Enjoy them. They really need sex from you. Their husbands don’t take care of them optimum sexually.”
“Because they suspect them.”
“And aren’t they right? Don’t my entire beautiful Musalmān lady friends ravenously have sex with you?”
I smiled,
“Nādirah Åzīm, if their husbands had provided them it they would have never needed me.”
“Why don’t you tell them it? Aren’t they your own friends? They pay you monthly heavy amounts as your Sex Therapy sessions with their extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wives. Isn’t it a fact that they never want their wives cured? They actually want to get rid of them sexually.”
“Al Nādirah Al Åzīm.”
“Isn’t it a fact that today Musalmīn are tired of Islam actually? They have surrendered completely to the present materialistic western culture? They don’t want to waste their precious time in worthless sexual activities with their wives. They want to earn money instead. Their sexual responsibilities to their wives are burden for them. That’s why they have friendship with you.”
“Nādirah Åzīm,”
“You are not Sex Therapist for your filthy rich Musalmān friends actually.” Nādirah Åzīm blurted out furiously, “They call you that to deceive you. Actually they use you as an extremely successful Hindu male prostitute for their over sexy Musalmān houseladies. Isn’t it true? Tell me you don’t understand it. You aren’t that foolish yourself. Isn’t it?”
Muħammad Raħmān held her hand.
“It’s alright, Nādirah Åzīm. Our entire present social system is rotten absolutely now. It’s true cure is Islam. But there isn’t true Islam anywhere itself. Instead of fighting with non Muslims for Årab Imperialism if we Musalmīn…”
“Let me tell your over human Hindu stepfather that he must never think his filthy rich Musalmān friends are innocent. They are not. They want their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives to have extramarital sex with Durgesh so that they are free to do their corporate business more successfully. I hate these hypocrisy oriented swines.”
Muħammad Raħmān smiled at me,
“Sorry, Dad. She is angry now. You know she respects you but she can’t bear your hypocrite Musalmān friends.”
I smiled.
“I understand, Muħammad Raħmān. My plans were canceled at the last minute anyway. By the way, where were you guys going again?”
“We’ll be at Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s. She’s hosting a party with a bunch of people you may or may not know. Nothing you need to worry about, I guess.” Nādirah Åzīm said flatly. “Now goodbye, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she headed out the door.
I smiled sarcastically.
Nādirah Åzīm wasn’t so innocent herself as she tried to appear to everyone.
Why the hell otherwise she called me ‘sweetie’?
I was her father in law step or else.
I wasn’t her junior or equal even.
She never accepted me her father in law.
She still respected Muħammad Raħmān’s real father, my friend, Al Muħammad Al Åbbās.
Nādirah Åzīm thought I snatched away his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wives from her otherwise innocent father in law, Al Muħammad Al Åbbās.
Al Muħammad Al Åbbās was a sophisticated innocent multimillionaire that was too ethical to understand his wives sexual needs.
I took advantage of his generosity and fucked his entire extremely beautiful Musalmān wives one by one.
She could not understand why Al Muħammad Al Åbbās and Al Muħammad Al Raħmān both thought I was innocent and their immensely loyal family friend.
“He is fucking your entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies one by one and you still think he is your utmost loyal family friend?”
Muħammad Raħmān smiled.
“You don’t know anything. Durgesh Dad isn’t fucking our entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Our entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies are fucking Durgesh Dad instead. If Durgesh Dad isn’t keeping it secret…”
“What secret?” Nādirah Åzīm blurted out furiously, “What is secret there? Your youngest sister, Al Sāmiyah Al Raħmān’s eighteenth birthday hasn’t too old to forget. Durgesh inaugurated your sister. She celebrated inaugural honeymoon with Durgesh for complete one year. In that inaugural party didn’t Durgesh fuck every beautiful Musalmān lady invited there? Didn’t he fuck your beautiful Musalmān houseladies too with immense fanfare openly? Even the videos were prepared of the entire celebration and released with great pride. ‘Durgesh inaugurates Al Sāmiyah Al Raħmān at her eighteenth birthday, the youngest family member of Al Raħmān Al Åbbās family’. What is secret there I say?”
Muħammad Raħmān watched his twenty-eight years old extremely beautiful wife with immense sarcasm.
“And what about your own younger sister’s birthday? Didn’t Durgesh Dad inaugurate your younger sister Al Saħar Al Åzīm too? Didn’t your Abbū Åzīm Sāħab himself arranged for her inaugural honeymoon with Durgesh Dad? If our family does something it’s wrong and if your family does the same thing it’s right?”
“Certainly not.” Nādirah Åzīm said coldly, “I couldn’t stop Abbū in Al Saħar’s event but did I let my Abbū to inaugurate myself? Did I too celebrate my inaugural honeymoon with your Durgesh Dad?”
Muħammad Raħmān could not answer it.*
His parents were going to a Halloween party at their friend’s house, and his Ammī had left early to help get set up.
They were apparently going her friend Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s from work, and my head immediately shot to images of Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān who came over almost every week and I knew pretty well.
This Nādirah Åzīm’s friend was an absolute bombshell.
She was in her 30s, but she was incredibly fit and she was one of the hottest Musalmān women I’d ever recently met.
She was average height but she had killer Musalmān tits and an ass gorgeous Musalmān to die for.
I’d imagined fucking her many times over the course of our acquaintance, and every time I met her, she winked at me, seemingly knowing something I didn’t.
I walked upstairs to my room, trying to picture what slutty costume she’d be wearing for Halloween, dreaming about one day being able to hit that.
She was married, though.
“Too bad,” I thought to myself.
I was set for a pretty interesting day with Nādirah Åzīm’s beautiful Musalmān lady friends, and reserved myself to messing around in my room, when after a few hours, I heard the phone ring.
I walked out of my room to get the phone, when the ringing stopped.
I stepped down the stairs and saw Muħammad Raħmān had answered it. I overheard what Muħammad Raħmān was saying.
“Are you sure you need me?” Muħammad Raħmān asked the voice on the phone, probably some work friend on the phone.
“Yeah, you’re right. That’s a pretty big account. We can’t afford to have anything happen. I’ll come down there tonight. Just let me get my things in order. I can be there in a few hours.” He continued, replying to a voice I couldn’t hear.
Apparently Muħammad Raħmān’s work needed him for something.
Muħammad Raħmān hung up the phone and turned around, seeing me on the staircase.
“Dad! There you are!” he said, walking toward me.
“What’s up, Muħammad Raħmān?” I asked, wondering what had happened.
“Oh, nothing. A client got cold feet and wants to be rewalked through everything. I have to go down to the property in Copperopolis. It’s a few hours away. I probably won’t be back until late tomorrow night.”
“Oh nonsense, really? That sucks… What about your party with Nādirah Åzīm?” I asked, wondering what he planned to do.
“Yeah, about that. I was gonna ask you if you’d go for me and tell your over ethical immensely conservative Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter in law, your Bahū Bégum, that claims she is too ethical to have sex even with you the supreme successful Sex Therapist nowadays. Haha. She is crazy. She thinks I really believe it. Even if she is really as foolish as she really never enjoy the unique sexual bliss only you can provide I don’t think you too are as a damn fool as to leave her without fucking until now. She is herself too beautiful to leave her without. Go fuck her and tell her I couldn’t come. I know she’ll just wanna leave if she has to be there by herself, but I could tell she was looking forward to it. Would you mind going there for me, and staying for a bit so she can enjoy herself? I know it’s Nādirah Åzīm’s friends and it’s kind of a drag, but you’d be doing me a huge favor.” Muħammad Raħmān explained.*
Asmā Salmān reached down and rubbed my Uncut Hindu Dick, “”Well the boys have all left for the airport to get back for their finals and the wedding party is either passed out drunk in their rooms or…:otherwise occupied. It’s just you me and Saåīdah Zāfar who’s over there, helping the DJ pack up. We have to get all the wedding gifts home.”
Asmā Salmān gestured to the mountainous stack of brightly wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes that overflowed the two gift tables we had set up.
I looked at the stack of presents and nodded.
“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll all fit in the Mercedes. Maybe we should have brought the Land Rover.”
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife refrained from saying I told you so, but isn’t quite able to keep the smug look off her face.
However, if we had brought the Land Rover, I would be sober, or we would be spending the night in the hotel, since she refuses to drive it.
“Saåīdah Zāfar, stop flirting with him, and get over here.”, I shouted across the room at my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter, who was still wearing her bridesmaid dress, making her look a lot older than her tender age of 18 years.
The dress was a bright crimson floor length gown, with a slit up the left leg that stopped just short of paradise.
The bodice was strapless, sleeveless with a deep V, and it squeezed and lifted making even the smallest bust look mouth watering.
The gown had rhinestones encircling the waist, creating the illusion of a belt.
Where the buckle would normally be was a large circle, reminiscent of the sun, with rhinestone rays fanning out drawing my eyes to the exposed Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān flesh of the wearer.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, told me the dress was so tight none of the bridesmaids could wear even the skimpiest of thongs, without having unsightly lines ruining the look.
I was very excited about that, until I realized my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter would also be going commando.
When I first saw the dress, the bodice and upper part of the skirt looked to be painted on, and then it flared out big enough to hide a person underneath. It was so tight and form fitting, that I asked my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, if it was painted on.
“No, silly, it warps around the wearer and there are several bra type fasteners to hold it closed. When it’s not wrapped around a body, it opens to be the size of a blanket.
“Durgesh!” Saåīdah Zāfar cried in whiny teenage voice.
She handed the DJ a piece of paper.
She walked over to me.
Before she could voice her complaint to me about being embarrassed, I told her,
“Go to the front desk and ask them to send a couple of bellhops in here with a few luggage racks, then show them what to load.”
Turning to My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, I said, “Pull the car up the side door down the hall, so we don’t have to walk across the entire hotel. That should save time. Meanwhile I need to change.”
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, turned and left as I picked up my gym bag.
“Durgesh, why didn’t you tell me to bring a change of clothes?” Saåīdah Zāfar asked.
“Because I figured you’d be going home with the DJ.” I reply teasing her.
“Durgesh!” she said as I walked away laughing.
It was harder than I thought to get out of a tuxedo and into a pair of gym shorts and tee shirt when My Uncut Hindu Prick is rocking my world.
I finished the task, without setting any speed records, and then headed out to meet my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, to load the car.
Damn Al Muħammad Al Zāfar.
Sālā Badmåsh.
He left his wife and daughter to me because he had to attend a very important business meeting.
“But Zāfar,” I started to protest.
But he winked at me,
“You are my family Sex Therapist. Your Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān is your client. She is your responsibility now, not mine.”
I slapped him playfully.
As I walked by the bar, I stopped in and ordered three coffees to go.
It was already 1 a.m. and we had a two-hour drive home.
Moreover, I knew if my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter, or I fell asleep, my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, would be pissed.
If she fell asleep, we’d be dead.
When I arrived, there was already a huge pile of gifts to load.
“Thank God I played a lot a lot of Tetris” I joked to My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, as I began to carefully load the gifts to make sure nothing was damaged.
After almost 40 minutes of loading the car, all the gifts were packed in but only the driver and front passenger seat were left open.
One package was tall and long but thin, and it separated the driver and passenger seats leaving only a few inches open close to the roof.
“Good job genius, now we have two seats for three people.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, said condescendingly. “Where’s Saåīdah Zāfar going to sit?”
I stood up stretching my back and looked to see if there was any way to shift things around to free up just one more seat.
Throwing up my hands in despair, I told My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, “There’s no way to fit her in the car.”
“How about we tie some stuff to the roof?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, said.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know what’s in the boxes and I don’t want anything damaged before it’s unwrapped.”
One of the bellhops who had been helping,..
Well, truth be told he was staring at My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, and daughter, more than helping,
But I really couldn’t blame him.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, was still one sexy lady, especially for a mom of a 5 extremely beautiful daughters, the oldest being 25.
Hell she always is carded when her daughters go out for drinks.
And my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter, his beautiful daughter. She always was an attractive girl, but during her teen years, she blossomed into a real heartthrob.
She was 5’4” and I swore 3′ of that was legs.
She had an hourglass figure with 10 extra minutes just to make sure.
She had been asked several times to be a model by talent scouts, but she wanted to use her excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān brains, not her equally excellent beautiful Musalmān body.
During the planning for the wedding I overheard My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, told the dress maker her measurements, 36B-24-36, and I remember thinking My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter is built like a brick shit house, and was never ashamed.
Well, why the hell should I?
The truth was the truth after all.
Al Muħammad Al Zāfar was more an ultramodern Westerner than he was a Musalmān.
Damn the bastard.
Then I saw her in this dress.
I was jealous of every person who has to see my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter in this dress, because they could all imagine stripping it off her young sexy body and doing things to her no father should ever know about.
“What did you say?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, asked the bellboy bringing me out of my reverie.
“When my parents helped me move to college, he said, “we had a similar problem. There wasn’t enough room in the car for mom Dad and me. So I drove and mom rode on my father’s lap.”
“Wasn’t it weird to have your mom sit on your father’s lap when you were present and driving the car…?” Saåīdah Zāfar asked the young man, pausing for his name.
“Ħamīd”, he offered his hand smiling at her in a way that made me want to punch him in his face. “Not really, it was actually one of the best road trips I’ve ever taken. It brought mom and Dad closer than ever before.”
His smile was really beginning to creep me out, so I stepped in front of Saåīdah Zāfar and said,
“Well, that won’t work. My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, needs to drive, so she can’t sit on Saåīdah Zāfar’s lap.”
“Maybe Saåīdah Zāfar could drive and Your Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān could sit on your lap.”
“That would work, if Saåīdah Zāfar hadn’t failed her driving test four times.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, told Ħamīd.
“I guess there’s only one solution.” Ħamīd said.
Ħamīd probably wouldn’t have suggested it if his brain wasn’t being preserved in alcohol. “Missy…Mom…Ma’am …” Ħamīd must have been drunker than I thought.
He wasn’t even sure what to call my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife,
“Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān drives and Saåīdah Zāfar sits on my lap.” I completed his sentence furiously.
“EWWW Durgesh…” she cried at the suggestion.
“Look honey…” I started to say, wanting to get my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter away from the drunken leeches that were coming back from the local bars and leering at her, as they slowly walked into the hotel, but Ħamīd interrupted.
“Saåīdah Ma’am, I felt the same way. But by the time the ride was over, my mom and my father were closer than ever. They visit me at least once a week, and I look forward to their visits. I’m sure it’ll do the same thing for you and Durgesh Sir.”
“Fuck it, I’m tired and want to get this dress off and get to bed. Let’s go.” Saåīdah Zāfar shouted.
Ħamīd gave me another of his creepy smiles as I got into the passenger seat and patted my lap for my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter to join me.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, got in the car and started it up.
Looking over at her, I could barely see the top of her head over the package.
Once my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter was settled in my lap, I reached out to shut the door, and I heard Ħamīd said,
“Have fun, Sir.” and then winked at me.
“What the fuck, is he queer,” I wondered as I shut the door.
We drove off into the night as I struggled to get the seat belt over us.
I was having trouble because a pillow was stopping me from putting the tab into the buckle.
I was about to say something when I realized that the pillow was actually my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughters breast.
I froze in place not sure what to do.
Saåīdah Zāfar sat there not moving, as I let go of the seat belt realizing there was no way it would reach around two bodies.
Then the thought occurred to me that her knees must be pressed into the dashboard, so I reached under the seat to slide it back, forgetting about her dress.
All I found was a smooth soft supple leg as my hand got tangled in the material of the dress.
“Are you two okay over there?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, called out as we pulled onto the fairly empty interstate.
“Yeah Ammī, we’re fine.” Saåīdah Zāfar said with some amusement in her voice.
“How about you, honey, are you okay?” she asked me.
Saåīdah Zāfar twisted to look at me as I tried to formulate a reply and untangle my hand from her dress at the same time.
“I think Durgesh’s going nighty nice”, Saåīdah Zāfar said winking at me.
I felt her spread her legs a bit wider, and I was finally able to free my hand, but I was sure at some point I was rubbing her smooth Just eighteen Just Adult Musalmān thigh.
“He better not, we still have to unload the car when we get home, and you know Durgesh. Once asleep nothing will wake him up.”
“I’m awake,” I said, “just lost in thought.”
“If either of you need a break, let me know. And I can stop in a rest area. Otherwise I plan on driving straight through.” Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān said.
Suddenly the car swerved to avoid something in the road, and Saåīdah Zāfar in her silk dress was sliding all over my lap.
The friction of her young adult Musalmān body on that part of mine, had the expected results.
“Don’t you dare…” I thought as Uncut Hindu Cock started coming to life.
Saåīdah Zāfar started to rock her hips, to get back into a comfortable position, which increased the attention my trouser snake was paying to the situation.
I groaned in annoyance as she planted her young Musalmān ass cheeks right on my now half erect Uncut Hindu Cock.
I tried to shift my hips so her body wouldn’t be rubbing against me, which only caused more rubbing.
“Durgesh, what’s that, it wasn’t there before?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter asked.
“What’s what honey?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, asked.
“It’s nothing darling.”, I said not wanting My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, or daughter to know I was getting a hard on.
To My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, I said, “I had something in my pocket that was making Saåīdah Zāfar uncomfortable. If she lifts up off me for a second, I can fix it.
Saåīdah Zāfar pushed herself up off my Hindu male lap causing the split in her gown to open wider and expose a generous expanse of her smooth Musalmān thigh.
I wasn’t shocked at how tan and toned her thigh was, however.
I had enjoyed millions of them already, and still enjoying.
My Bhogchakr managed to produce always such conditions.
Holding herself up I could easily see the muscles in her leg supporting her.
That wasn’t what I needed to see at that time, it just encouraged me to grow some more.
Grateful for the way her gown draped over my lap, I slid my hands into my shorts and forced my swollen Uncut Hindu Dick to rest between my legs.
Before the adjustment was complete, one of her hands slipped and she collapsed onto me.
Her ass could feel my hand and her head whipped around to look at me realizing that the lump she felt was the one that was visiting her mother’s womb nowadays for her Sex Therapy.
Her skin turned as red as her dress and she stopped moving trapping my hand in my shorts, holding my Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Umm Saåīdah Zāfar…” I said not sure what to say in this situation.
She quickly lifted herself up letting me free my hand, but my Uncut Hindu Dick was still pressing into her derriere.
Instead of trying to position herself for minimal contact, she seemed to be intentionally using her gorgeous Musalmān ass to encourage it to grow more.
What a family.
She too was enjoying it instead of being embarrassed.
I sat there trying to be a good family friend and Sex Therapist as she rubbed my Uncut Hindu Cock impishly deliberately through our clothes.
She spread her legs even wider so I could see almost her entire leg.
My Uncut Hindu Dick was beginning to throb under her, and Saåīdah Zāfar gasped as it started to poke up into her soft round Musalmān globes of flesh.
Saåīdah Zāfar had been sitting mostly upright this whole time, but now that my Uncut Hindu Dick and her gorgeous Musalmān ass were getting so well acquainted, she leaned back against me, and at that Moment, I realized that the gown was not designed to protect modesty.
Looking down over her shoulder, I could clearly see the swell of her breasts and even part of her areola.
That was all it took.
My Uncut Hindu Dick sprang and became rather insistent that it be freed.
My hands involuntarily wrapped around her waist.
Saåīdah Zāfar smiled at her victory, took my right hand in hers and put it on her inner thigh under the gown.
When I felt the forbidden flesh, I bent my head down and took a deep breath of her sweet smelling hair as my Hindu male body began to react like a man’s body instead of a family friend’s.
My hand started to rub and caress her beautiful smooth Musalmān thigh, as my mouth found her neck and began to kiss it.
“Mmmm” she moaned as I lightly nipped her tender skin.
She offered no resistance so far, even though part of her brain was screaming that this is not something a family friend should be doing to his friend’s daughter, but a bigger part of her was saying shut the fuck up and see how far you can go with this sexy young adult Musalmān teenager.
My hand moved up her thigh, and I could feel the heat from her unprotected little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot .
My Hindu male body shuddered in pleasure.
Saåīdah Zāfar brought both her hands to her chest and began to squeeze her breasts.
I was encouraged by watching her.
I slid my hand up and found her pussy.
I was shocked it was so wet, and I started to caress it with my fingers.
“Ohh, that’s so nice Durgesh, please don’t stop.” Saåīdah Zāfar moaned as I found her distended Musalmān clit and began to rub it.
“What feels nice?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, asked.
“Durgesh is massaging me, and it feels wonderful. I don’t want him to stop.” Saåīdah Zāfar said as she took my other hand and placed it on her soft firm breast.
“You better give me a massage when we get home, buster, or you won’t be getting what you want.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, teased me as we continued down the interstate.
“I will honey. I will.” I replied as my hand freed my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter’s right tit from her gown.
I just sit there mesmerized at the view of her perky young Musalmān tit flesh.
“You guys know I’m here, right?” Saåīdah Zāfar said. “I really don’t want to know about your bedroom stuff. That’s gross.”
I chuckled as I began to rub her exposed nipple, and My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, replied “Oh grow up Saåīdah Zāfar! Sex between two people who love each other is natural and normal, as you’ll learn one day.”
“Oh, I’ve had sex Ammī.”, My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter announced, as she pulled down her top freeing her other breast for me to play with, “I just don’t want to picture you two fucking.”
“Fair enough,” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, said her voice strained, “Durgesh is our family Sex Therapist.
I knew her well enough to tell she was shocked that Saåīdah Zāfar wasn’t a virgin, and she was going to let the subject drop for now.
She would wait until she was alone with Saåīdah Zāfar and not so tired and then there would be hell to pay.
I felt no such restraint.
“You’re not a Virgin?” I asked in shock as I slid a finger into her pussy.
I was feeling mixed emotions at the Moment,
I was upset that some dirty nasty boy had used My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter for his pleasure, but on the other hand, it meant that maybe, just maybe she wasn’t a cock tease and I just might get to fuck her.
“OH Durgesh be real. I haven’t been a virgin since 9th grade.”
My Uncut Hindu Cock leapt in joy on hearing these words, and I slipped two fingers into her pussy, feeling her juices begin to freely flow. “So you’re a little slut.” I said teasing her as I pinched one nipple and then the other.
“No Durgesh, not a slut, just a Musalmān woman who loves a nice hard Uncut Hindu Cock in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.”
I could feel the atmosphere in the car change with those words.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, got very tense and stopped speaking.
Saåīdah Zāfar had basically invited me to fuck her, and to let her know I accepted, I pushed a third finger into her folds and began to finger fuck her.
As we drove down the highway in silence, I kept fingering her and playing with her exposed tits.
“What’s that Hindu Sex Therapist of mine doing?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, asked in her pissed bitch tone.
I yanked my hands off my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter cautious that somehow she had seen what I was doing.
I was trying to form a reply but Saåīdah Zāfar beat me too it.
“What Ammī?”
“The 18 wheeler next to us. He’s been pacing us for a few miles and it’s making me nervous.”
I looked out my window and sure enough, there’s a tractor-trailer right next to us.
I look up at the long bearded Musalmān driver who gave me a thumbs up and a big smile.
I realized he’s been watching my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter and I fool around.
“I think he noticed your daughter, especially the way the gown enhances her.” I said to my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān.
Saåīdah Zāfar blushed when she realized she’s not only exposed to me but to any other travelers on the road.
Hurriedly she covered her breasts and tried to push my hand out of her dripping wet Musalmān pussy.
“Fucking pervert.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, said and slammed on the brakes to let him pass us.
Then she moved behind the truck to protect her daughter’s modesty.
“I’m going to pull over at the next rest stop. Let him get a few miles ahead of us, and I need to use the restroom.”
“Okay dear.” I said, “I can stretch my legs.”
We pull into a rest area.
The truck side was packed full of big rigs, but the car area was empty.
No one was moving around.
We had the place to ourselves.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, parked the car and shut it off.
I pulled my hand out of my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter and she adjusted her gown to hide her leg.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, walked over to our side of the car, opened the car door and helped Saåīdah Zāfar out.
I climbed out with a groan, not realizing how stiff my legs had gotten.
“I’m going to take a walk and work out the kinks in my legs” I said, my face reddening at my words.
I hoped it escaped notice since we had parked in a dark area of the rest area.
“I’ll walk with Durgesh.” Saåīdah Zāfar said taking my hand in hers.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, nodded, turned and headed towards the bathrooms.
Saåīdah Zāfar led me deeper into the shadows, without a word squatted down, and pulled out my Uncut Hindu Lund.
She looked at it gently stroking it and I leaned back letting her.
She kissed the tip, then took the whole thing into her young beautiful adult Musalmān mouth and began to give me one of the most erotic blowjobs I ever experienced recently.
She wasn’t all that talented, but being half in the bag, combined with the multiple taboos made it so much better.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter made up for in enthusiasm what she lacked in experience.
I thought my Uncut Hindu Lund was hard before.
I was wrong.
It was stiff before, now it was hard.
I didn’t want to waste my load in her mouth.
I pulled myself out of her warm mouth and pulled her up.
I kissed her as I had never kissed any Musalmān woman recently since my Sex Therapy honeymoon. With her Ammī, my Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān.
Decades of pent up passion were focused in this kiss.
The duel our tongues fought made the sword fight between Inigo Montoya and the Dread Pirate Roberts look like a square dance.
Regrettably, I broke the kiss and spun Saåīdah Zāfar around, so she could lean up against the wall.
I squatted down and with my hands, I pulled open her dress at the split.
I pulled it up so that her Just eighteen Just Adult young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was exposed to the cool night air and my intense Hindu gaze.
It was the cutest most perfect Just eighteen Just Adult young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot I had ever seen recently.
Wonderful.
Almost every day now, I was inaugurating millions of Just eighteen Just Adult new Musalmān Cunts.
Still Saåīdah Zāfar’s Just eighteen Just Adult young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was wonderful.
I, even the utmost experienced utmost successful Sex Therapist couldn’t deny it.
I couldn’t resist.
I buried my face in My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter’s sopping wet Musalmān pussy and began to kiss it all over.
She groaned out loud as my Uncut Hindu Lund began to probe her young Musalmān folds and explore the most intimate part of her body.
The clacking of heels on cement announced My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān’s imminent arrival and our probable getting caught. But I just couldn’t stop now.*
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies: 1- Of my Musalmān friends-40
Posted: February 2, 2016 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb, Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Shékħ, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Åbdullah, Muħammad Jahāngīr, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Tawaħīd Muħammad Ħasan Leave a commentThe Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat
Chapter 40
I am not a sailor and I had never been more than a mile from shore in my life until my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s daughter, Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, said she wanted a month’s vacation on the Gulf of Mexico.
Now when it comes to my little princess, it is hard to say,
“NO I do not want to go”.
Muħammad Åbdullah allowed his wife, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb, to have sex with me, because he wasn’t interested in sex, at all, anymore.
I felt embarrassed in fucking a lady I called Bhābhījān sometimes.
“Nonsense,” Muħammad Åbdullah said, “Al Jāsiyah is still young, Durgesh, méré Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Bahnoī. She still needs sex very much. I can’t afford to divorce her.”
“But I called her Bhābhījān.” I protested.
“What the hell difference does it make? You follow Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Don’t you?”
“Don’t try to take advantage of my Īmān, Muħammad Åbdullah.” I said somewhat angrily, “I’m not a Panjvaqtah Namāzī, I accept. Nevertheless, I have an ever-indomitable Īmān on the Kħātimul Rasal, Muħsin-e-insāniyat, Nabī Ākħiruzzamān, Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Nevertheless, he never had sex with any of his friend’s wife he used to call Bhābhījān.”
“Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam never had sex out of wedlock.” Muħammad Åbdullah said gravely, “Yet you do. Don’t you?”
I had to surrender ultimately when Muħammad Åbdullah told me,
“Al Jāsiyah has consented not to have Kħul’å from me only if you consent to provide her as much sex as she needs.”
I twisted to Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān.
“Bhābhījān,”
“Shut up,” Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān interrupted me, “You idiot, Am I not beautiful?”
“Of course, you are beautiful, Bhābhījān. You are extremely beautiful. But I never saw you with sexual intention in my mind.”
Al Jāsiyah Bhābhījān smiled.
“That’s why I call you an idiot, Durgesh. I never saw you platonically.”
I was stunned.
“Bhābhījān.”
“You are the only man I loved sexually in my entire life. Not Muħammad Åbdullah.”
I was dumbfounded.
“And…and you never told me?”
“Nope!” she contradicted me vehemently, “I always told you. But you never believed me.”
“Bhābhījān, I always thought you were only kidding me.” I said quite offended.
Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān laughed sarcastically.
“You are forgetting Durgesh, that you enjoyed shab-e-ůrosī with me when Muħammad Åbdullah married me, not Muħammad Åbdullah.”
“I thought that was your madness for me. Once you’d have your honeymoon with me you’d forget me and would be ever loyal to my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah.”
Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān again laughed sarcastically.
“After our tremendous wild honeymoon for complete one year? Are you crazy?”
“Bhābhījān,”
“You always tried to stop sex with me. Yet I never allowed doing it. Didn’t I?”
“You never loved Muħammad Åbdullah?” I asked her gravely.
“He is a damn fool.” Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān laughed open heartedly, “He married me even while I told him I love you and none else. He was too obsessed with my divine mesmerizing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty that he accepted to be cuckolded to us both and even to the extent that he cleaned me licking my sexual organs after I have sex with you. You think any sane Musalmān woman can love such an impotent ever?”
There was immense venom for Muħammad Åbdullah in her voice.
“You never understood why the hell Muħammad Åbdullah allowed his every beautiful Musalmān houselady to have sex with you. You thought he is making sacrifices for you. You idiot, he does nothing of the sort. Actually he is an obsessed voyeur that loves to watch your extremely experienced Uncut Hindu Cock visiting beautiful Musalmān Cunts and beautiful gorgeous female Musalmān ass. You think he is a man? How the hell he is?”
“Muħammad Åbdullah,” I twisted at him.
“She hates me intensely, Durgesh.” Muħammad Åbdullah said gravely, “I’m immensely grateful to you that you kept fucking her until now for me. Now please continue. For my sake. She never loved me. She is right. She has cuckolded me for both of you. Remember she uses me as her footstool even while you fuck her. Doesn’t she?”
“Divorce her, Muħammad Åbdullah.” I said gravely, “Be a man.”
“And what about Al Tawaħīd Al Islam? She is my daughter from Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb. Isn’t she?”
“Why the hell Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān allowed you to have sex with her if she never loved you?”
“Because I wanted a daughter from her. I told her if she didn’t give me a daughter of my own, I’d divorce her anyway.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe it.
Muħammad Åbdullah was too obsessed to divorce Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān ever.
He watched her having her shab-ůrosī and even her entire honeymoon with me.
She compelled him to take even the videos of our sexual intercourses everywhere in every possible and impossible sex positions.
Muħammad Åbdullah was actually her sex slave, her cuckold entirely.
Yet he threatened her to divorce?
And Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān surrendered?
“Surprised?” Muħammad Åbdullah smiled sarcastically, “Don’t. She is now obsessed with my licking her sexual organs after you fuck her. She can’t live now without my tongue into her Musalmān Cunt and Musalmān ass. She needs it now as much as she needs your unique infinitely experienced Uncut Hindu Cock there. She has led this abnormal life now so much that now it’s her normal lifestyle. She needs both of us for her healthy survival.”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! I’ll be damned.” I murmured.
However, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān wasn’t alone such an abnormal woman.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam was about to turn 19 and it was her last year before college.
I agreed with her as a birthday present to spend her vacation at sea.
She told me she would take care of everything and I should not worry about anything.
Of course, when it came time to pay, that was my job.
I did not question her choices on the subject.
She has a way of getting me to do things that I would never think of doing except for her.
When she bats her big sky blue eyes and pouts her bottom lip, as a stepdad and a man, no one could deny giving her the world.
About Al Tawaħīd Al Islam,
Let me say that as far as women go, she is above all of them in every manor one could list.
She is short in stature at just less than 5 feet in her bare feet.
If she kept her clothes on and was soaking wet she still would not weigh more than 100lbs. and most of that is in her tits, (32C cup) and ass, a perky little bubble below her tiny waist that would make an M&M candy melt without being your mouth.
Pixie blond hair just above her shoulders topping her off.
For the past few years, I found she was attracting the boys; some were older than she was and I had spent many days chasing them away.
She would always try to reassure me that “I am a good girl Durgesh, but then when the time is right, look out because I will be so good at being bad!” Those were her words not mine.
On her 18th birthday, I gave her some audio and video tapes from her mom, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān, as guide for her life.
Therefore, my life had been easier to deal with as well, but I never passed up spending time with my princess, not work, not golf or dating would come between her and me.
Our port of call was Tampa FL and when we went to board, I knew that she had a plan of some sort because of the crew.
We were informed; that we had a crew of seven sailors, two busty female stewards, a chef, plus Captain Al Rashīdah Al Waħīd would be at our command and only she and I as passengers on a 200ft yacht named “Down on Me II”.
One of the pretty stewards gave us a tour of the boat, and she then led us to our staterooms.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, told me to get ready for the sea life and she would meet me on deck in half an hour.
I dressed casual, went topside to the dining room, and had a drink waiting on my little girl so we could have diner.
She entered and when I saw, her, my mouth hit the table.
She had on a very elegant dress that one would expect to see at maybe the Oscars.
One of the Hollywood starlets would wear but she would have made them look shabby in comparison.
Her gown was shear in places, split in other places, and showed her body to be that of a woman on a mission.
Two of the sailors and both of the stewards were on a small stage playing music, very romantic music, as she walked across the room.
I stood up and yes, I pulled out her chair, as a Hindu man would do for a lovely Musalmān woman on a date.
Out of nowhere, an older woman came and introduced herself as the chef and server, I had no idea she was even on board nor at that moment did I care.
She brought a bottle wine.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, said,
“Durgesh, would it be ok if I have some wine with you tonight?”
I replied “Princess, thank you for asking and yes if you drink in moderation you can drink anytime we are on the ship.”
I knew I couldn’t stop her from taking wine however.
She wasn’t my daughter exactly after all.
She loved her Ammī more.
Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān especially instructed Al Tawaħīd Al Islam.
“Take anything from Durgesh, but never his ethics. They are utopian. If I’d taken his ethics as well as tremendous sex from him, I would have died until now, celibate.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam smiled at me and confirmed her Ammī.
“Never worry, Ammī. I’m your daughter. And I’m proud of you. You never did anything wrong. Even in cuckolding Abbū. He loves cuckold life with you and Durgesh. He enjoys it. He hates to have sex as a man now ever, as much as Durgesh loves to have it, every time everywhere with every Musalmān Beauty Durgesh can manage to.”
She just smiled and nodded her pretty head as she sipped her wine.
The chef informed us of what our meal was to be for the evening and said if we would like anything, she could change the menu, but the menu was prepared in advance when Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, booked the ship, and of course, I said it would be fine.
This was to be Al Tawaħīd Al Islam’s last meal as a high School girl and at midnight; she would be 19 so she wanted to be tipsy when that day came as she had said on a few occasions.
While she sat looking so beautiful, I felt the love for her.
Even my heart began to ache thinking that she would soon be leaving me to find her way in life.
My heart was breaking and I felt a tear in welling up in my eyes.
I controlled myself immediately.
Nonsense.
Stop being unduly sentimental.
Act practical.
I stood up, but before I stepped forward, she herself stood up too, and asked me,
“Durgesh, My dear, would you care to dance with a young lady that loves no man else more than you?”
I smiled.
“Yet you love your Ammī, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān, even more than me. Don’t you, you naughty girl?”
“Sure,” Al Tawaħīd Al Islam laughed proudly holding her head high, “Ammī is my ideal and ideal of millions of us young Musalmān ladies. She is an important executive in Cuckold your Musalmān husband Movement of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan the ultramodern Kħātūn-e-Jannat razī Allahu tåālā ånahā.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam smiled at me as she reached for my hand.
We danced as I held her we talked and laughed it was one of the greatest dances I can remember.
Holding her close and her perfume rose as if flowers were all around us and I pulled her closer.
My hand on her back was touching her smooth, silky skin and as I looked down into her blue eyes, I became aware of movement in my casual shorts I had on and suddenly I felt under-dressed.
It was as though I did not have enough material between this lovely creature and the devil growing down lower.
I started to put some space between my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s daughter, and my body but as I tried to move back, she held on even tighter.
There I was with a growing presence in my shorts and my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s daughter, holding on ever so close!
What was I doing!
Nevertheless, I was never ashamed of it.
It was a normal reaction of any Hindu to the amazingly beautiful young Musalmān lady as Al Tawaħīd Al Islam was now.
Neither I was afraid of what Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, would think about me, getting an erection while dancing with her?
She would feel proud of herself instead that she could turn on even as experienced a man sexually as I was.
Was I a pervert?
Certainly not.
I never thought of having sex with her.
Had I?
Would she ever want to dance with me again?
Why not?
She loved every moment of it.
Didn’t she?
The music stopped.
I sophisticatedly guided her back to our table.
As I sat down, I have to admit that I neither felt flushed nor embarrassed doing everything to keep from not looking at her.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, made it simple by talking about the plans she had made.
She told me about what we would be doing when we made landfall around the Gulf.
The different cities and fairs she had heard of during her research for this trip.
I nodded my head and smiled gravely.
I had hoped sitting down would give my erection and my erotic thinking a break but it was no avail.
I was still erect.
For Al Tawaħīd Al Islam?
Not necessarily.
For any beautiful Musalmān houselady.
Anyone could satisfy its need.
Why Al Tawaħīd Al Islam alone?
Nonsense!
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam said something and it caught me by surprise.
I had to ask her to repeat what she had just said.
She said,
“Durgesh, I know that you love me and you miss Ammī now. I understand it would have been better if Ammī had been with you instead of me. Yet I’m myself a young Musalmān lady now and it’s bad manners to keep reminding me that you aren’t comfortable with me. I want to help you move on from your Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān complex! That is why I have put Viagra into your food. I hope you will forgive me.”
My reply was shock at first.
Was she as crazy too as her Ammī, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān is?
Viagra?
In my food?
Hell.
What the hell she is after, after all?
She kept talking.
I knew her intentions were meant to help but there would be little chance of fixing my loneliness on board the ship.
That is when she said,
“Remember the tapes Ammī gave me when she allowed me to come with you?”
I said,
“Yes darling, I don’t know what was on them but yes I remember.”
She said,
“Ammī told me that she knew you love her and that you would have trouble getting on with your routine life whenever she isn’t with you. And she wanted you to enjoy your time till you two would be together again.”
I smiled.
My Princess kept talking,
“Ammī made a lot of tapes with different topics on them and she left other things as well. She had a space set aside in the old barn that was for my private place to watch and listen to her so I could enjoy and laugh and whatever else I needed to do. She said that if I reached 19 and you had not moved on then she wanted me to help you return to your former ways. She taught me different things to help you and during this cruse, we are to do those things. Ammī said only if I wanted to, so I want you to know that what we do on this trip is my choice and of course you have to be willing to allow me to carry out Ammī’s wish list for you.”
I was shocked.
Yet I felt my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s wife, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān, had more insight into me than I had ever thought possible.
It seemed she knew me better than even I knew myself.
I was immensely grave!
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, came to my side, hugged me, and ran her tiny fingers through my hair to calm me.
She lifted my face to hers and then to my surprise, kissed me!
It was not a father daughter kiss.
It was an open mouth lover type, very soft and tender, yet passionate!
My head was spinning, not quite realizing the true meaning of all that she said.
It was not what I was expecting but I just held her and enjoyed the Moment.
I was Sixty-Seven now.
I was already living in relationship with most of the daughters of my beautiful Musalmān live in relationship partners too, as well as with themselves.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the most prominent of them.
She was practically now my present Chief Wife.
Her sister, Tawaħīd Muħammad Ħasan, was also my wife along with their beautiful Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān.
There were millions of them with their beautiful Ammīs as well.
It wasn’t anything new now for me.
Even it wasn’t abnormal for me now.
It was absolutely normal for me.
Almost daily, I was inaugurating now beautiful Just eighteen Just Adult Musalmān young ladies even with grand fanfare from their parents.
I was the utmost admired utmost invited sex therapist now every educated family wants to inaugurate their daughters.
They were afraid of inexperienced invasion of their daughters causing some potential problem in future in their sexual and family life.
It was better to let the utmost successful utmost experienced Sex Therapist take their cherry for their potential inexperienced husband/lover.
Even their minimum one-year honeymoon with me, continued with their inauguration, was suggested now by their family medical experts.
It was not a marital honeymoon however.
It was an inaugural honeymoon instead medically necessary for their future happy life.
Sex with me was a medical necessity now to keep family life happy and vibrant.*
I knew very well however what the real necessity of it behind these entire medical iterations.
The true facts was the continuously increasing disinterest of the males in physical sex.
They wanted to hire me to provide the necessary sex to their womankind, they themselves neither had time nor interest in.
The matter-oriented life had tired most of them to keep pace with.
Nowadays even husbands were hiring me not even to provide optimum sex to their wives but even to impregnate them.
“Why do you want my son from your Bahū Bégum instead of your own son’s?” I asked gravely Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Shékħ himself.
He smiled.
“You know very well Durgesh, Muħammad Jahāngīr isn’t my own son. He is my wife, Asmā’s son from her previous marriage. After Farīdah Jalāl Shékħ I married Asmā you know.”
“Your Bahū Bégum is ready to have sex with me to get pregnant?”
“I haven’t another option.” Asmā Farħān smiled at me indignantly, “He is suffering from Aids.”
“What?” I kept myself forcibly from jumping.
Have I now even to impregnate Aids affected persons’ wives?
Family virtues are not in vogue now anymore?
The parents hire me to inaugurate their Just eighteen Just Adult daughters with one year inaugural honeymoon with entire expenses fully paid separately.
The husbands hire me to provide optimum sex to their beautiful wives so that they are busy not to interfere in their business.
The business is more important now than family virtues.
The in laws hire me to get their Bahū Bégum inseminated to have their grandson.
The son is not interested in having sex with their Bahū Bégum.
They are hiring me to keep their Bahū Bégum sexually satisfied.
Is it the twenty first century?
Sex is so insignificant now?
—————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 33
Posted: March 6, 2015 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Åāýéshah Siddīqah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, life sciences, Modern Democratic Årabia, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim Terrorism, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Terrorism Leave a commentChapter 33
The Utmost Ancient thorughly Updated New Order taking place
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, suddenly smiled to diminish the tension in the atmosphere.
“And I am going to be your hot and horny Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān who secretly plays with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot thinking of your big ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund. The one she saw when Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched you fuck your sexiest and very beautiful,” she laughed, “As well as sweet and intelligent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girlfriend, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched us fucking?” I asked, my cock was hardening more and more.
Well, why the hell shouldn’t it?
Despite her father’s and my every effort to marry her again with any suitable man of her choice, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān expressly refused to do so.
Yet she was still watching me fucking Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated.
Even a dumbass could understand what Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān really wanted.
“Yes,” she nodded, her blue eyes glazing over with lust.
I loved that look and as bad as I wanted to touch her sat and waited for her to go off on one of her sexy talking tirades.
As always Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan went on to do so.
“That’s right, your horny Bahū Bégum was watching through the first floor window that day we were fucking on the couch. She squatted right there and fingered herself while Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched your Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, the President of Modern Democratic Årabia, suck on your big ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund! She came right there when you shot your nice hot Hindu load into my thirty four years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot! Then Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists lick my thirty four years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and Musalmān ass and wished it was hers!”
“Oh, yeah.” I whispered. Lifting my hips, I pushed my shorts down, exposing my hard Uncut Hindu cock in appreciation of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s hot reporting.
In Modern Democratic Årabia, now it was an integral part of the punishment to the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists that they had to lick clean the beautiful Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of their own entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies after I fucked them publicly. Even the other interested beautiful Musalmān houseladies could make them to do the same.
They had no right to protest.
“Isn’t it inhumanity in our own part, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated?” I had asked gravely yet politely.”
“Let it be, Durgesh.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said sternly, “The beasts have massacred innocent persons in the name of Islam. They must be punished publicly as much, as dastardly, as to terrorize their other colleagues we couldn’t arrest yet.”
“They aren’t so many now.”
“How do you know?” Åāyeshah Siddīqah argued impolitely, “You are our husband, Durgesh. We entire infinite Musalmān womankind are immensely indebted to you. Nevertheless…”
I watched Åāyeshah Siddīqah gravely.
“Åāyeshah Siddīqah, you are the Home Minister in Modern Democratic Årabia now. You can’t act as irresponsibly now as you could once when you were not on any such important post.”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, went on,
“Then Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched you give it to me over the couch, watched you slam your thick ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into my tight young Musalmān snatch. She came again listening to me squeal about how deep you were and how hard you were fucking me. Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān went to bed that night and dreamed of being on her knees for you. First sucking a hot load from your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund then letting you pound away on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!”
“I see.” I said gravely.
“That’s just what Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān wants to do!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was breathing hard causing her perfect Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits to rise and fall with her breaths. “She comes into our room and sees us fucking. She tells you to keep your Uncut Hindu Lund out and sit down.”
“Then?” I asked, watching Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan carefully.
“Then, she tells you she saw you keeping an eye on her, watching out the window and I was stroking it to her. So she takes her shirt off,” she cupped her tits and stroked her nipples with her thumbs.
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah, you want your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s tits, don’t you?”
“Sure.”
“I have a perfect man, I think, haven’t I?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan stepped back between my legs.
I yearned to touch her, but knew once Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was in ‘game mode’ I would have to wait until she gave me the okay.”
“I think you should ask for what you want.”
“Okay, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, can I play with your beautiful Musalmān tits?” The words sounded so wrong, but yet sent a shiver through Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated.
“Hmm, I think you left out something, don’t you?”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, may I squeeze your beautiful Musalmān tits?”
“Well seeing you asked so nicely, I think I’ll let you.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan grabbed my hand and all but shoved her tit in my palm.
“That’s it, squeeze on your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s tit.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, moaned, “Show her how much you want them!”
I switched to her other nipple and as I started rubbing her now wet nipple with my fingers, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, reached down and grabbed my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
I moaned and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sighed,
“Oh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, you are so hard for your Bahū Bégum!”
“Because my Bahū Bégum is fucking hot!” I told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, winking at her, “She is teasing me constantly non stop.”
“I’m fucking hot?” playing Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, laughed, “Then maybe I should take off the rest of my clothes for you!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan unhooked the bra and pulling it off, unsnapped her shorts.
Turning around she pushed them as well as her blue thing down her hips, then bending over in my face, shimmied out of them.
I stared at her tight young Musalmān ass and then smiled when she grabbed her cheeks and spread herself open in front of me.
“How’s Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s pussy look?”
“Damn good!”
“Then ask me.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, can I fuck your pretty Musalmān pussy?” I smiled impishly.
“You want to fuck my Musalmān pussy?” she shook her beautiful Musalmān ass, “My Hindu scoundrel father in law wants to fuck his Bahū Bégum Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān?”
“Hey don’t tease me anymore, Sālī. Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān!”
“I like that!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
Leaning forward she braced her hands on the desk and with no hesitation I spread her cheeks and plunged my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her hot little Musalmān slit.
“Yeah, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, cried out, “That’s it! Fuck your Bahū Bégum’s young ravenous Musalmān pussy!”
I swirled my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund inside her, then slipped it through her soft wet labial lips and finding her swollen clit rubbed it with my hard ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Oh, look at you! Fucking Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s pussy! What a good father in law you are, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā!”
I closed my eyes and envisioned it really being my Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, bent over in front of me.
I rubbed her clit harder and bringing my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund between her young beautiful Musalmān legs buried my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah! Fuck yeah!’ Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan squealed, “Just like that, shove that greatest unique ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund of yours, in and out, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā! Make your Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, cum around your entirely buried ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund!”
I drove my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in and out as hard as I could while tracing her clit in hard fast circles with my it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan must have been as turned on as I was because I could already feel her young Musalmān ass trembling against my lap as my Uncut Hindu Lund caressed her throbbing Musalmān button.
“Oh, Durgesh,” she groaned, “Oh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, right there! Look at you making Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān feel so good! You keep fucking and Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān will give you a treat, would you like that?”
“I’d love it!” I moaned into her hot wet Musalmān flesh.
“I bet you will because if you make me cum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān is going to suck on your nice hard ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund! Would you like that? Would you like Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān to give you a blow job? Want her to get on her knees and Oh fuck yeah!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan squealed and began thrusting her hips, driving her Musalmān pussy on around my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Her legs tightened up and as her pussy contracted around my thrusting Uncut Hindu Lund, she released a long loud wail that made me glad the air was on and my window was shut.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan writhed on my Uncut Hindu Lund rubbing her quivering Musalmān pussy on around my Uncut Hindu Lund.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was twitching between her beautiful young Musalmān legs as she continued to speak even as she came.
“Oh, you’re making Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān cum for you! Oh, I am going to be so good to my Hindu lover! Oh, I can taste my Hindu lover’s ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth already!”
Damn that sounded good!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan stopped speaking and after a couple of long drawn out moans, she sank down to her knees.
She rested her head on the desk.
Her back was heaving as she tried to catch her breath and I sat back, patiently awaiting her promise.
Goddamn this was so fucking hot and she hadn’t even gotten to sucking or fucking me yet!
“Wow, you made your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān come hard!”
Remaining on her knees, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan turned around so that ‘Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’ was kneeling between my legs.
Grabbing the base of my Uncut Hindu Lund she looked me in the eye.
“Tell Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān what you want.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān,” I whispered and saw Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan shiver in excitement, “Sālī, Bahū Bégum, suck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“Least I could do.”
I thought Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was going to go slow and tease, but instead Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan opened wide and took my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund all the way down to my balls.
I cried out in pleasure then moaned when she started sucking me fast and hard.
I grabbed the back of her head and began guiding her beautiful young Musalmān mouth up and down my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund and moaned, “Oh, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, oh that feels so good!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan released my cock with a wet sucking sound,
“You like how Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān sucks your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund? I hope so because I love sucking your Uncut Hindu cock and want you to cum in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth!”
She began to drip down my shaft she took me deep once more and began sucking my cock like it was a race.
‘Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’ was making sloppy slurping sounds and when she reached between my legs and started rubbing my balls I whispered again, but this time with more feeling behind it.
“Oh fuck Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān!” I groaned, “Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh my God, you can suck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund! I..,” I gasped when she started taking me deep with every bob of her head, “Oh, God, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān! Oh you want to make me cum fast for you don’t you?”
She popped my cock out of her mouth long enough to say,
“The faster my Hindu husband cums the faster he can fuck his Bahū Bégum Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, immediately went back to sucking my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund like a porn star while teasing my balls with her nails.
My legs were shaking and grabbing her hair in my hands I started using it as handles yanking her head up and down my cock.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was moaning and her hips were grinding as she blew me and I tried to keep her going as she had me.
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, you look so good with your Hindu lover’s Uncut Hindu Lund in your pnm Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, oh look at you being my sexy little Musalmān slut! You want to take every drop, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān? You want me to cum in your slutty Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan took me down to my balls and began shaking her head back and forth while squeezing my balls.
“Yes,” I moaned, “I’m going to cum for you, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, I…hey!”
“I’ll suck you off another time, but right now your Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, needs that big fucking ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī young thirty four years old Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!”
Getting up she turned and crawling up onto the bed, wagged her beautiful Musalmān ass at me.
I got in the bed behind her and grabbing her hips I drove my oozing Uncut Hindu Lund deep into Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s incredibly wet Musalmān pussy.
I started fucking her fast and hard.
“That’s it Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, fuck me! Give your bitchy Bahū Bégum what she deserves!” she cried out. “Oooh!”
“You like fucking Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, Durgesh?” she looked over her shoulder at me and I smiled.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated’s face was flushed and her eyes bright with lust as I fucked her as hard as I could.
“I hope you like fucking your Bahū Bégum because, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I’m going to make you fuck me every night! Would you like that? Would you like fucking Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān all the time?”
“Yes! Oh, fuck yeah! My Bahū Bégum’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot is the best Musalmān Choot my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund needs now! You’ve teased me very much, already, beyond every limit whatsoever.”
“Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā! I love it! Your Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, is going to fuck you everywhere! The shower, the pool! Honey, your slutty Musalmān Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s going to take you out and blow you right in the car! I’m going to… Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah! Oh my God!”
I gasped and started fucking her harder and she called out, “Durgesh, stop! Please!”
I figured this was part of the game and called out, “You know you don’t want me to stop, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān! You know you want me too…”
“I said stop!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cried out and pulled forward.
Looking down at her, I began to ask what was wrong when I froze at the sound of Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s voice.
“You heard your Bahū Bégum, Durgesh, stop!”
I looked up and I smiled triumphantly.
Standing in the doorway was my Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān herself.
———————————————————————
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 32
Posted: March 5, 2015 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Muħammad Al Ůsmān, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Pakistan or Partition of India, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Young lady Musalmān Brigade, Young Musalmān lady Brigade Leave a commentChapter 32
The New Order taking place
I carefully moved the curtain and peered down into the backyard.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was still in the pool, but was no longer swimming.
Instead, and much more to my liking, she was lying on the floating raft catching some sun.
I wanted to move the curtain further to get a better look, but Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān had put her sunglasses on.
I would assume her eyes were closed, but didn’t want to take a chance getting caught. After all it wasn’t like there was anything else out there I could say I was staring at.
Nonetheless my limited vantage point provided me enough of a view to admire my Bahū Bégum‘s age defying body.
At twenty eight, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was as hot as any teenager Musalmān girl, maybe even hotter because she was older and still looked that good.
With that age would come the experience and confidence of a hot young Musalmān lady, the kind I loved to have suck and fuck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
In my Bahū Bégum’s case something else that would go along with that age would be a lot of enthusiasm and pent up frustration.
I’d over heard her telling a friend over the phone that she hadn’t gotten laid in six months.
In one sense that was damn hard to believe considering how attractive she was.
On the other hand Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān had been nothing short of a raging Musalmān bitch the last few months, riding me about pretty much everything.
I’d made that point to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan a couple of days ago and she agreed; saying what my Bahū Bégum needed to help her chill out was good hard fucking.
“Fuck Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān yourself, otherwise be prepared for her external extramarital affair.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan advised me gravely.
“Naåīmah, please! Stop your Bahū Bégum movement.”
“My Bahū Bégum movement? Don’t tell me you don’t understand Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān is herself trying to seduce you.”
My perpetually horny girlfriend, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, had then gotten a good hard fucking from me and despite how hot and kinky Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was, I’d caught myself thinking about giving those long hard strokes to Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān.
Nonsense!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young Musalmān Lady Brigade was still affecting my sexual life tremendously.
I was sure there was no shortage of men that would be willing to give Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān what she needed so I had to assume it was her choice not to be getting any.
Aside from being a little gun shy about getting close after Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s husband had passed on three years ago I wasn’t sure what her problem was, but it’s not like I could ask her.
It might give her wrong impression that I myself too was interested in her sexually.
I had advised her father, Al Muħammad Al Ůsmān,
“Why don’t you remarry her? She is twenty eight years old only.”
Al Muħammad Al Ůsmān looked at me gravely.
“They are afraid of you.”
“What?”
“There are rumors that Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān married your Musalmān stepson so that she could live with you. She actually loved you.”
“Al Muħammad Al Ůsmān Sāħab,” I smiled ironically, “You aren’t born yesterday. If you hire some reliable Detective Agency to investigate those rumors you’d find all of them ill inspired. Our enemies spread them. Don’t allow them, please, to destroy your daughter’s life.”
Below me, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān raised her arms over her head and stretched lazily.
I forgot everything else and stared when she arched her back, pushing her tits out.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was pretty ample on top and the white bikini -which few women her age would even think of wearing- did a damn good job of showing them off.
The cups left a good portion of them exposed and the white material looked good on her tanned flesh.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s stomach was still flat from the stomach crunches she did every morning.
Those crunches not only served their purpose, but were something that lately I had been trying to make sure I happened to be around when she did them.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s hips widened out just enough to give her a nice figure and her legs were long and kept in shape from her years as a dance instructor.
After a quick trip down those long legs which included a lingering stare at her well toned inner smooth Musalmān thighs, my eyes, by default, sought out what was between those thighs.
I controlled myself immediately.
The bottom of the suit was as revealing as the top and consisted of a thin strip of white material that didn’t cover a lot more than what it absolutely needed to and was held together with strings tied at her hips.
I rubbed my fingertips across my thumb imagining that string between them.
I’d slowly pull it, untying it and watching it fall away to expose my Bahū Bégum’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
All of my opponents suspected I was already fucking Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān.
Her husband objected it.
Therefore Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān conspired to his death.
The authorities kept mum because they were silenced with immense bribery I provided to my ‘live in relationship partner’, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān.
My Bahū Bégum’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!
There were a lot of things wrong with those obscene words used in that order, but I’d gotten to where I didn’t really care.
Fantasies were fantasies and there were enough Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān Durgesh stories and videos all over the net to tell everyone it was more common than people would like to admit.
So when these sexual thoughts about my Bahū Bégum started a few months ago after stumbling onto a porn site featuring Bahū Bégum Durgesh scenes I didn’t resist them, just kept them to myself.
My resistance to it was worthless and had spread those rumors more than otherwise.*
Even keeping an eye on her, I couldn’t deny I was enjoying myself and it’s not like Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān knew.
Although I had to admit it would be even hotter if she did.
To find out she wore those tiny bikinis to make me look and walked around in those little shorts and tight tops to tease me.
I could never understand why all of them did it.
If they wanted me, I was always available to everyone.
I stopped thinking.
Was I really?
Didn’t actually I resist to everyone of them?
Yes, today I have countless of them my live in relationship partners.
But it was because they adamantly insisted to be so.
Why did I always try to tell them my real age?
Did it make any negative difference to them?
Wasn’t it a fact that the more I was ageing the more lustful for them I was?
The more I fucked them the more I lusted to fuck them.
Before Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Kħadījah Muħammad was there as crazy to fuck me everywhere as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was today.
Yet even Kħadījah Muħammad had admitted to me,
“Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah! Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, you are utmost wonderful. You keep fucking me more and more wildly even after I want some rest in between. You are simply incredible. I think you don’t even live on oxygen. You live with your Uncut Hindu Lund in a Musalmān Choot buried entirely.”
If it was true, and I knew it was true, why misguiding them that I’m ageing?
It wasn’t any negative thing for them not even slightest.
It was actually a positive information for them instead.
Below, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān lifted her leg and bending it, scratched the top of her foot.
My eyes locked onto the thin strip of material between her smooth young Musalmān thighs with the vision of lying between her legs and sliding it to the side.
I would gladly break all of society’s rules and eagerly fuck her.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān would rest her leg on my back and moan my name as if I were any other lover she’d had.
But I would be her best lover because the taboo of it would create a level of lust she could never match with any other man.
The fact that we shouldn’t would cause us to fuck like animals, to show we didn’t care what the rules were.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān straightened her leg, then after a Moment rolled over onto her stomach.
I couldn’t have asked for more.
As good as Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān looked from the front, her ever beautiful twenty eight years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass was the feature that absolutely drove me wild.
I teased myself by letting my eyes wander from top to bottom.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān had her long dark hair up, exposing the smooth bronze skin of her back.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund twitched in my hand at the thought of running my lips down her soft sun warmed Musalmān skin; trailing my way down to that amazing Musalmān asscheeks.
The bikini bottom wasn’t much more than a thong in the back, giving me a good view of her tight little heart shaped female Musalmān ass.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s beautiful Musalmān ass showed off the effects of her years of dancing as well as her legs did.
Not that I had ever had the chance to get my hands on it, but her beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ass looked firm enough to bounce a quarter off of.
I could only imagine what it would be like to squeeze it and spread it open, so I could plunge my never satisfied ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her Musalmān ass, then her more beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan loved it when I fucked her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass on her constant insistent persistence.
I wondered if Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān would have that same high pitched squeal as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, did.
A grin appeared on my face when I thought about the even higher pitched sound Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan emitted when I fucked her in her tight little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
That led to thinking of committing the ultimate taboo of giving my Bahū Bégum a little back door action.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān would lift that extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass in the air and after slamming her hot wet Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and getting it nice and wet; I’d slide it up and push it into her undoubtedly tight little Musalmān rosebud.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān had settled down on her stomach.
I focused completely on her Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Picturing her rising up on her knees and inviting me to fuck her.
She’d look back over her shoulder and tell me to fuck her harder.
Even in the heat of my thoughts I could hear her doing what she had been doing a lot lately and telling me I wasn’t listening to her.
“Allah, Durgesh, can’t you even fuck me right?”
I’d start fucking her harder and Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān would give me that trademark eye roll I’d been watching my entire life.
“I said, fuck me! Do I have to do what you usually make me do and do everything myself? Now fuck me!”
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān would cry out,
“Oh it’s about time you fucked your Bahū Bégum like a man, now slam that greatest ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund of yours in deeper, come on Durgesh, be a good Hindu lover and fuck your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān!”
Even though her words were coming from my own mind, they caused me to moan softly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said from behind me.
“Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah! Oh my God, Durgesh, mérī Jān! My Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, you really do want to fuck your Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān!”*
I turned around to see Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, standing there, grinning at me.
“What are you talking about?” I watched her gravely.
“Durgesh, I came in the front door five minutes ago. I looked in the back and saw your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān in the pool and figured I would just head on up here.” She pointed at the window, “There are woods on two sides of the yard and the next door neighbors are in their eighties. So unless you’re whacking off to trees or you got a thing for old ladies in walkers, your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān is the only thing out there.”
She folded her arms and cocked her head at me as if daring me to dispute it.
Even as my mind raced for some type of explanation, I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was on the cheerleading squad at URI and was totally a stereotype of one.
Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was tall, blonde, blue eyed with an athletic body that featured a set smallish, but perfectly shaped Musalmān tits, and a pair of long legs that rivaled my Bahū Bégum’s as the nicest I’d ever seen.
It dawned on me even as my eyes lingered on her perky Musalmān tits that things were starting to get out of hand when I was comparing my Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girlfriend’s body with Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān‘s.
Better even than Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan‘s pretty features and killer female Musalmān body was her sex drive.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, was a total freak, a Musalmān girl who fucked me more than most of the beautiful Musalmān houseladies of her own age and loved to play out everything she saw.
Nothing was off limits for her oral, anal, etcetera, she loved it all and added extra thrills by introducing me to her favorite game; Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, loved for us to play out porn videos or pretend to be different people and I pretty much had learned to love everything she did because it was always one hell of a good time.
Even better was the fact Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, was as sweet as she could be slutty for me exclusively and I had no doubts Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was my freak too.
I had no worries about her fooling around on me.
She knew the same as I told her-and wasn’t really kidding- that if nothing else I couldn’t handle more than her.
There was nothing Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, wouldn’t do for me and even with that she had occasionally teased me with bringing another Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān woman into the picture.
“Don’t bother trying to deny it Durgesh.” Her words pulled me from my admiration of her “I’ve been standing behind you and I heard what you said,” She smirked, “You want your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān to fuck you!”
I smiled.
“That’s the normal reaction, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān is teasing me herself as you too adamantly did. I can’t be an impotent.”
“Well it’s not like I didn’t already know.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, told me as Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān walked over to the window.
“What do you mean?”
“Women know things Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā. Guys are pretty oblivious. Short of ‘hey wanna fuck’ you boys really don’t pick up on much.”
“I don’t get it.” I shook my head.
“No sweetie, you don’t” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, smiled and teased her long nails down my cheek, “But you’re awfully good looking so you don’t have to.”
She gave me a quick kiss and ran her fingers through my black hair,
“I love those pretty black eyes of yours. You have your Hindu male eyes.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Well seeing you like how she looks, you should take that as a compliment,” she laughed, then squeezed my arms. “Keep in shape like her too, I’m a lucky Musalmān girl!”
“I’m a lucky Hindu guy” I told her, “I’ve got the hottest Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent beautiful Musalmān houseladies in the Multiverse.”
“And the hottest Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān to fuck next too!” she added.
“Back to that.” I told her, “So how long are you going to bust my balls about it?”
“I’m not. Like I said, I already knew.”
“How?”
“I can see it in the way she looks at you.” She sat on the edge of my desk and giggled, “When we all go swimming Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān spends as much time looking at you as I do myself.”
I smiled.
“That’s what I love you for, your blunt honesty, you blunt sincerity with me. So many of my other beautiful Musalmān houseladies lack that even while they fuck me.”
“Hey it’s okay, you know what it’s like to fuck me and I’ll show you anything you want.” She pointed over at my lap top. “And the last three porn movies we made?” She tapped her chin as if thinking “And I am pretty sure she had dark hair and green eyes.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Not to mention when we’re out on the deck and she drops something you all but fall over to try to get a look at her beautiful young Musalmān ass when she does.”
“I said okay.” I put my hand up.
“Aww,” she gave me her perfect little pout, “You mad at me, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā ?”
“No. Just kind of cautious.”
“Why?” She pointed to herself, “You forgetting who you’re talking to? Last week I let you tie me face down on the bed, spank me raw and fuck me in my Kħātoon-e–Jannat Musalmān ass while you insisted not to.” She laughed, “Nothing bothers me, honey.”
“I know, but…”
“And before that you picked me up on the corner and I blew you right there in the CVS parking lot like I was a hooker, the Ever First President of Modern Democratic Årabia your hooker! Imagine.”
“I hate to be that sick minded, you know.”
“I don’t know.”
“Sick.” I sat down on the chair in front of the desk. “It really is, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān is so teasing me 24×7 now nonstop that I keep thinking about banging my Bahū Bégum.”
“Can’t bother you too much from what I saw.”
“It really didn’t, but hearing you say it makes me realize it is pretty sick to want to have sex with a Bahū Bégum.”
“Not really.” She grinned, “When I was younger I used to have fantasies about you having sex with me.”
“You did?”
“I used to get off thinking about you punishing me for bad grades by getting on my knees and sucking your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-plus years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“So what happened?” I asked.
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “After a while the fantasies became truth . I never felt bad about them. You can’t help what you think about.”
“If I tried to, would you have let him?”
She flashed that wicked little smile that always caused my Uncut Hindu Lund to respond. “Why, don’t you know I didn’t leave you another option except to fuck me?”
“Sure. But you still were creative. You wanted me for improving your Pseudo Musalmīn mankind.” I said gravely.
“That’s half-truth ! I wanted you for myself too. I’m not that sacrificing as my Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan and you yourself are. And I am never ashamed of it, even the slightest.” she slapped my arm, “But really, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, it’s just something people don’t want to admit.”
“So…you think it’s healthy?”
“I don’t know if that’s the word, but I don’t see any harm coming from it. Not unless you plan on it being your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān you tie up and fuck next.”
“Tie up?” I blinked at the sudden visual of Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān replacing Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, on my bed, her ankles and wrists tied with her stockings and her beautiful young Musalmān ass having my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund buried entirely. Her Musalmān asshole oozing my Hindu cum.
“Whoa, sorry for doing that to you.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, said
“No, I wouldn’t want to hurt her.”
“You can hurt little old me though?” she pushed her lips back into the pout and the lower one began to tremble, “Please sir! I’ll be good; please don’t put that big ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in my little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ass! Oh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā please stop it hurts!”
“Wow,” I grinned, my Uncut Hindu Lund swelling in my shorts. “We’ll have not to do that again.”
“We’ll see. It’s more fun to come up with new games.”
“So you’re okay with knowing I…uh, fuck Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān?”
“Yes and no.”
“On the yes side,” Standing up, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, turned to the window and moved the curtain. “Your Bahū Bégum is fucking hot as hell!”
“You think?”
“Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I’ve been with a couple of girls, but they were girls, out there in that pool is all woman!” she sighed, “I would so love to lick your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān‘s pussy after you’ve fucked her.” She giggled, “I have actually, but in my head when I play with myself.”
“You’ve gotten off to Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because,” I gave a low whistle, “My Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girlfriend stroking her pussy thinking about my Bahū Bégum’s pussy is pretty damn hot!”
“It is, why do think I never said anything about it? The girlfriend always gets to play too!”
She gave me a wink and while I replayed her words in my mind and began to think of all the incredibly hot scenes that it created, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, turned back to the window.
She had the curtains moved away from the window and I shook off the images of my Bahū Bégum sucking Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated’s Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot while I fucked her doggy style.
“Hey get out of the window she’ll see you!”
“So? You think Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān would know I’m picturing your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in her young twenty eight years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass?”
“Damn, I love you!” I laughed.
“You just love me for my sexy mind.” She sighed.
“No, I love you because you’re beautiful and very sweet when you want to be.”
“Aww,” she gave me one of the cute little shy smiles I could occasionally coax from her, “I love you too Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā!”
She let the curtain fall and reaching up, undid the clip from her hair and shook her head.
I watched her long blonde hair cascade down her bare shoulders and my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund started throbbing at the memory of how that golden hair looked fanned out on my thighs while Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān worked me with her soft Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips.
Grabbing her tank top she stripped it off and dropped it on the desk.
Beneath it Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, was wearing a light blue lace bra and I could see her hard nipples poking through it.
I glanced at her shirt and frowned when I saw the silver dollar on her persistent insistence, I had drilled a hole into and ran a chain through.
“Hey we need to work on that psyche project.”
“That lame hypnosis thing?” she rolled her eyes. “Tell you what, how about I hypnotize you with these?”
Rather than undo her bra, she yanked the cups down causing her young Musalmān tits to spring free.
I licked my lips at the sight of her big, proud Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts as they popped out.
Her tits were round, firm and her pink nipples were as hard as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
“You are getting horny!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, said in a deep voice, “You want to fuck on Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s pretty titties, then fuck her hot Musalmān pussy!”
I laughed and opened my legs so she could step between them.
She stood in front of me and grabbing my shirt gave it a tug. I pulled it off and tossing it back over my head said,
“Hey you lock my door?”
“Why, your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān said its okay if we fool around as long as we stay in here and keep it quiet” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, winked “At least while she’s home, she’d kill us if she knew about the kitchen table.”
“But it’s locked? You said she didn’t know you were here.”
“It’s locked, worry wart. Just fuck on my Musalmān tits will you?”
“Yes ma’am” I cupped her tits and leaned forward, eagerly prepared to fuck on her swollen nipple.
“Yes Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān.” She said, pulling her tit from me and taking a step back.
“What?”
“Call me Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān.” She had that nasty smile back on her face. “That will be today’s game. You’re going to pretend I’m your hot little Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān that you want to do all kinds of naughty things to.”
“She is compelling me to.” I said furiously.
“That’s natural, daring. Don’t blame us beautiful Musalmān houseladies ever. We come to you, we seduce you entirely unashamed of ourselves, because we poorest beautiful Musalmān houseladies never have another option for our survival even. Our Pseudo Musalmīn mankind is never as humane as you are. You are unique, matchless and never replaceable for us entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, Durgesh.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, said it so immensely painfully, I was dumbstricken at once.
She was absolutely correct.
Even Bhāratratn Dr. B.R. Ambedkar had reached on the same conclusion:
‘The Muslim woman is the most helpless person in the world’.
¬Pakistan or Partition of India:
Chapter 10 Social Stagnation Part 1: Pp 226-227 Edition 1990
———————————————————————
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 25
Posted: February 12, 2015 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Brahm Padminī, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs, Brāhmañ girls love a Bachhalyā, Brāhmañ girls marry a Bachhalyā, Brāhmañ women love a Bachhalyā, Brāhmañ women marry a Bachhalyā, Brāhmañs, Chief Justice of Multiversal Supreme Court, Chief Justice United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, Chief Justice Vishwambhar Sharmā Supreme Court Multiverse, Democracy, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Infinite BrāhmKalp, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, Karuñākānt Joshī, life sciences, Multiverse, Nishikānt Joshī, Pragyākānt Joshī, realities, reality, Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ, Shuchi Joshī, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Supriyā Bhārgav, Urmi Upādhyāý Leave a commentGotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
Chapter 25
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 skirt was hiked up past the crotch of her pantyhose and Nishikānt Joshī could see my other hand on her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ sex.
My body hid Urmi Upādhyāý‘s hands, but her upper right arm and elbow were quite visible.
Urmi Upādhyāý and I were moving rhythmically back and forth.
There was no doubt her hand was on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and giving me a slow hand job.
Her partial nakedness said the hand job was only a preliminary.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! God, Urmi Upādhyāý,” I said hoarsely, “I’ve waited so long for today. Don’t tease me, okay?” My voice turned more than a little plaintive right at the last.
Urmi Upādhyāý giggled delightedly.
“Have you, Durgesh, Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ, Bachhalyā Piyā?” she replied in a light, coquettish tone.
She was playing with my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.
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.
Without thinking, I moved away from a threat I had not yet properly identified and into closer contact with Urmi Upādhyāý. That was unfortunate for the woman.
She probably wouldn’t have been hurt if I’d kept still.
The instep of Urmi Upādhyāý’s heavy ladies shoe smashed into the Nishikānt Joshī’s testicles and drove his whole body forward and up.
Urmi Upādhyāý was a strong woman and she’d had a few steps to build up momentum.
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.
Urmi Upādhyāý had time to set her right foot back down on the floor and ready herself to deliver more punishment.
Her normally pleasant features were twisted into a rictus of tormented rage.
Urmi Upādhyāý took a step deeper into the living room and closer to the shocked husband.
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.
Urmi Upādhyāý and I stood back, watching Nishikānt Joshī thrash around on the floor while the screams assaulted our ears.
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.
It was still hard…still ready to be driven into Nishikānt Joshī’s extremely beautiful twenty eight years old wife, Urmi Upādhyāý’s willing Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot.
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.
He could not be aroused by the sight of his wife about to have sex with Durgesh, his ever successful Bachhalyā Jījū.
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.
Even his otherwise immensely sophisticated Bhābhī, Supriyā Bhārgav, argued that the Musalmīn allowed their entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies to fuck Durgesh everywhere.
If the Brāhmañs wouldn’t do the same thing, the Brāhmañs would again lose to the Musalmīn once more.
“The stupid Brāhmañs as you are, Nishikānt Joshī, would again ruin what Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu has recovered and Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī had fought fiercely to retain.”
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.
“Of course!”
“Bhaiyā,” Nishikānt Joshī said bitterly, “I can understand now why Brāhmañs are so devoted to advertise that it’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now.”
“Oh,” Karuñākānt Joshī said looking at his younger brother sympathetically, “Why?”
“You Brāhmañs are not interested in your so called Infinite BrāhmKalp now. You are interested actually in beautiful Musalmān houseladies who can’t get Durgesh himself for them.”
“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.”*
Karuñākānt Joshī watched his younger brother, Nishikānt Joshī, scornfully.
“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’.”
Nishikānt Joshī gritted through his teeth.
“Bhaiyā, never accept every argument Durgesh offers, without thinking its consequences. Imām Muħammad Ħasan blundered in this way. Now he is a cuckold.”
“I don’t think so, Nishikānt.” Karuñākānt Joshī said gravely.
“What?” Nishikānt Joshī was stunned.
“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.*
Nishikānt Joshī looked at his older brother scornfully.
“You deliberately compelled Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī to have no option except to join Durgesh’s bed.”
“Supriyā Bhārgav is my wife. You don’t have any moral or legal right to comment how we should behave in our married life.”
“You wanted more sex than Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī could offer you, being a Brahm Padminī.”
“And it’s a sin to need more sex than one’s wife can offer him?” Karuñākānt Joshī himself was scornful at Nishikānt Joshī now.
Nishikānt Joshī was stunned momentarily.
He could not disagree with his elder brother, Karuñākānt Joshī, now.
Nishikānt Joshī himself was educated enough to understand that the sexual need of a male or a female was actually the need of the environment surrounding them, not that of their own bodies actually.
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.
Nishikānt Joshī was a Post Graduate from HVSI Multiversity.
He had seen his Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī teasing me every now and then.
He never liked it.
However Nishikānt Joshī couldn’t even stop his Bhābhī from teasing me.
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.*
I had noticed Supriyā Bhārgav was always ahead of my other Brāhmañ Salhajs, the other beautiful Brāhmañ wives of my Brāhmañ Sālās, here.
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.
Supriyā Bhārgav always smiled at me more seductively whenever she was around me anywhere.
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.
The youngest daughter of the Pragyākānt Joshī family, Shuchi Joshī, had announced,
“I’ve decided to live in relationship with Durgesh.
Everyone was stunned.
Supriyā Bhārgav tried to break the hostile silence.
“Well, I think we should talk first, Shuchi.”
“That’s a very good idea, Bahūrānī.” Pragyākānt Joshī greeted the suggestion very warm heartedly.
“Well,” Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ smiled gravely, “Pragyākānt Joshī, Durgesh was my own boyfriend before we married. I hope you still remember it.”
“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.”*
Supriyā Bhārgav regretted her decision to marry a traditional Brāhmañ almost as soon as she married Karuñākānt Joshī.
No, he wasn’t a bad man.
Instead, Karuñākānt Joshī was a very good man.
The entire Pragyākānt Joshī family was actually too good to be beneficial to themselves.
That was the problem.
Being a traditional Brāhmañ herself, Supriyā Bhārgav knew very well traditional Brāhmañs didn’t need their enemies outside.
Their overhumanity itself was a greatest enemy of all of them.
They were good to the extent to be harmful to themselves.
“We must be practical, KK.” Supriyā Bhārgav had suggested.
“You never told me you were a Brahm Padminī,” Karuñākānt Joshī looked at her incredibly beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife gravely.
Supriyā Bhārgav watched him gravely herself.
“Nowadays it isn’t any asset to us Brahmkanyās, Karuñākānt.”
“Supriyā,” Karuñākānt Joshī looked at her.
He never anticipated such a depression in his so well educated PhD Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife.
“No traditional Brāhmañ now really wants to marry us Brahm Padminīs, KK, despite our incredible Brahm Padminī beauty.”
“I know, Supriyā,”
“It was our greatest asset when we first came into existence. The entire ever first Brahm Jagdambās were Brahm Padminīs.”
Karuñākānt Joshī couldn’t say anything.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t blame the traditional Brāhmañs even.
They were also normal men.
They too wanted to enjoy their married life.
He tried to blame the Western Culture.
Chapter 26
————————————————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Parkāyā Pravésh: 1
Posted: January 9, 2015 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Kulsoom Al Faisal, Al Muħammad Al Ħabīb, Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, Anjali Chaturvedī, Arundhatī Joshī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Body Projection, Brahm Jagdambā, Brahm Jagdambās, BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Infinite BrāhmKalp, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kaliyug, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Parkāyā Pravésh, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Vinod Sharmā Leave a commentParkāyā Pravésh
Chapter 1
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan must have heard me.
“It’s Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb on line there,” she said.
I perked up immediately.
“Okay. Thanks.” I stabbed the button for line three. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Is it a good time?” Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb said. “I tried calling your cell phone, but you didn’t answer.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I was on another call. An important one.” I frowned at the memory, but then took a deep breath and forced a smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I need help, Durgesh,” she said frankly, and I sat forward.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I bellowed, ignoring the intercom.
“You don’t have to shout,” she smiled when she appeared in the door. “I’m right here.”
“Book me on the next flight to Blacksburg, Virginia,” I said. “And have a rental car waiting at the airport. Also, call U-Haul, or Ryder, or whoever, and rent a truck for a one-way trip.”
“Are you on a white knight errand?” she asked, smiling wryly.
“My little girl needs help.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan leaned against the doorframe. “What happened?”
“Her car died and she doesn’t have a way to get home from Office. The dealership told her it would be two weeks before they’d have the parts. Damned Eurotrash imports!”
She rolled her eyes.
It was one of his frequent rants.
“Anyway,” I continued, “it’s a good time for me to go—”
“To escape, you mean,” she smiled teasing me.
“—and I’m…” I turned impish myself. “Am I that obvious?”
She smiled fondly and shook her head.
“Yeah, I guess I’m taking an impromptu vacation. But I won’t really be out of contact. I’ll have my laptop and my cell phone. Pramod can handle Raytheon, and you can handle everything here.”
She nodded.
“So I’m going to rescue my little girl.”
“She isn’t your little girl.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “She is already twenty eight and her Ammī, Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, is forty eight already. Give Rashīdah auntie some time for herself now, please. She left her husband for you when Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was actually a little girl. You’re enjoying Rashīdah auntie’s dazzling Musalmān beauty for more than twenty years now. Still you bulldoze her so much that she was complaining.”
“Nonsense,” I smiled winking at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, “Al Rashīdah Al Faisal is still ravenous when I bulldoze her on the bed. Sālī, you want me to bulldoze only Jet Musalmān Beauties. Below forty only.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“What’s wrong in that? We need your permanently stanch, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund more into our more ravenous, more needy Musalmān Cunts than those above forty. They have enjoyed their share already too much.”
I smiled cunningly.
“That’s what my Brāhmañ and Savarñ women themselves claim that my Musalmān women have enjoyed their share already too much. Now, it’s their time.”
“Brāhm Kalp?”
“Isn’t it?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly herself.
She didn’t respond to it, deliberately.
“I’ll make all the arrangements,” she added. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”
I considered for a moment, but then shook my head.
I didn’t want to inconvenience her.
Besides, I needed her running things in the office.
“I’ll take a limo,” I said.
She nodded.
“I’ll have the driver meet you at the house.”
With a nod and a smile, I turned back to my computer.
I had a dozen e-mails to send before I left.
I’d also have to tell Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, but she wouldn’t care.
She and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal had a pageant in San Diego.
I vaguely recalled that it was part of the Miss California USA competition, but I didn’t give it a second thought.
Virginia was hot.
Hot and sticky.
I had already worked up a sweat just walking to my rental car.
Five minutes later, with the air conditioner on full blast, I was headed toward Blacksburg and the Virginia Tech campus.
I called Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb once I was sure of my bearings.
She gave me directions to her dorm, but I remembered the place from when I’d brought her to her Office.
She met me in the lobby and my eyes lit up when I saw her.
Unlike Al Rashīdah Al Faisal and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal—who were salon blondes—Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was dark-haired.
And while Al Rashīdah Al Faisal and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal were busty—courtesy of very expensive boob jobs—Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was petite and natural.
She was nothing like her mother or sister, and I liked that just fine.
She hugged me tight.
“Thanks for coming. I could’ve driven home by myself, but…”
“Nonsense,” I said. “That’s what I’m for. They say I can’t see any Musalmān damsel in distress ever.”
She laughed, looped her arm through mine and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Thanks, Hindu Albuåūlatul Muslimāt. They are right. You’re really the best.”
We picked up the rental truck and returned to the dorm, where they loaded Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb’s things.
I couldn’t imagine how she’d fit so much stuff in her tiny dorm room.
It filled nearly half of the small truck.
After she checked out of the dorm, we had dinner and spent the night in a hotel.
Her car was still with the dealer, but I arranged for us to send it cross-country when the repairs were complete.
The service manager had balked at my “request,” but the dealership’s general manager understood the unspoken threat in my voice.
The next morning, Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb and I were on the road by seven o’clock, with sausage biscuits and hot coffee.
I cringed at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s imagined reproach, but I savored the buttery biscuit and willed her to silence.
“What’re you smirking at?” Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb asked.
I controlled heating my cheeks.
“Smirking?”
“Yeah. Just now. You were smirking.”
“I shouldn’t be eating this,” I admitted.
“Because of your cholesterol?”
I nodded.
In the blink of an eye, she snatched the biscuit and began rolling down her window.
“Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, no!”
She tossed it out, wrapper and all.
“Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, that was my breakfast!”
“We’ll stop for an early lunch,” she said, unperturbed.
I glared at her.
“You know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s going to ask me how you ate,” she said. “And I won’t lie to her.”
“You could’ve lied this once,” I muttered, half serious, half joking.
“No, I couldn’t’ve. If you won’t take care of yourself, the women in your life will just have to do it for you.”
I wondered whether Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb had really gone through Parkāyā Pravésh.
Or was it her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Ħabīb himself who had gone through Parkāyā Pravésh?*
Kħadījah Muħammad, my outqueen, my confidential secretary, my everything, smiled at me.
“Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā, an executive type is anxiously and impatiently waiting in the outer office.”
“BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā ?” I asked.
“BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled, “He seems accustomed to getting what he wants.”
Kħadījah Muħammad was only two years younger than me.
Yet she never looked more than thirty four.
“He wants to consult me?”
“Yes.”
“The Bachhalyās are already Vishishŧ Brahm, Kħadījah Muħammad,” I said thoughtfully, “They are almost as capable as myself.”
“Nonsense,” Kħadījah Muħammad retorted, “Nobody is as capable as you are. You have almost infinite Shaktimān, almost infinite experiences, almost omnipotent you are. The Bachhalyās are your sons from Brahm Jagdambās and their descendants only. There’s almost infinite difference in your Shaktimān and capabilities, etcetera.”
I smiled.
“Did he tell you something about what he wants me to consult about?”
“No,” Kħadījah Muħammad kept smiling, “Sorry. That’s a mystery.”
“What’s the mystery?”
“All he has told me is that he is willing to pay any fee reasonable to have you a buffet dinner tonight.”
I smiled.
“Kħadījah , you should have told Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā that I’m never a paid entertainer. We are busy people. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now. We have a busy schedule today already. I see clients only by appointment.”
“I told him all that. He has come here from Brahm Ayodhyā Creations and he says you have infinite bodies.”
“Kħadījah Muħammad, I…”
“As if he himself doesn’t have,”
“Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā has only countless bodies.”
“Oh,”
“You’ve already snatched away his wife, Arundhatī Joshī from him when he was Vinod Sharmā.”
“What?” I was startled.
“He hopes you owe him to help in keeping his present wife, Anjali Chaturvedī to him now.”
I was dumbfounded.*
Kħadījah Muħammad looked at me dubiously.
“I don’t think that BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā wants you as a social lion. He said he would like to have you get a feminine partner of your own choosing, and that he would like to have you observe a certain person and give him your impression of that person.”
“He said I’ve snatched away from him his wife Arundhatī Joshī when he was Vinod Sharmā?” I watched Kħadījah Muħammad thoughtfully.
“That’s right.”
“He is from Brahm Ayodhyā Creations?”
“That’s what he said.”
“There are countless Brahm Ayodhyā Creations.”
“Sure, Bhārgav Brahm Ayodhyā Creations is leading all of them today.”
I smiled.
“Kħadījah Muħammad, you’ve met Arundhatī Joshī and Vinod Sharmā both.”
“Yes,”
“Is BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā Vinod Sharmā?”
“Vinod Sharmā is dead. His Ammī didn’t allow his body to be disposed of electrically. He wasn’t cremated.”
“BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā has the same body?”
“Certainly not. He has an entirely different ever young body. The Bachhalyās are Vishishŧ Brahm, Durgesh. They are themselves eternals as we ourselves are. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now everywhere.”
“Yet Kaliyug has its projection still now for 4, 27, 000 years. Don’t forget it. It’s essential.”
“How the hell can I? It’s disturbing us most frequently everywhere.”
“Not most frequently, frequently only. Show Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā in, Kħadījah .”
Kħadījah Muħammad flashed me a seductive grateful smile, returned to the outer office and a moment later was back with a man somewhere in his late twenties.
He had steady black eyes that flashed out from under his smart eyebrows.
It was an integral characteristic of the Bachhalyās that they were always young, handsome and powerful.
I was their father and the Brahm Jagdambās were their mothers.
I always dreamed of to see the Dvij Hindus as young, as handsome and as powerful as the Bachhalyās were, if not better.
But the Dvij Hindus lacked the ever excellent upbringing the Bachhalyās had from their Brahm Jagdambās mothers, Brahmarshi maternal grandfathers and Brahmarshi maternal uncles.
Dvij Hindus also lacked the optimum paternal care from their Param Purush father, Vishishŧ Brahm paternal Grandfather and Vishishŧ Brahm paternal uncles.
Bachhalyās were always number one administrators consequently undisputedly.
In this Infinite BrāhmKalp, the Bachhalyās were actually ever unconquerable.
Dvij Hindus were the second one.
The traditional Brāhmañs were the third.
The Muslims were the fourth.
Infinite BrāhmKalp lacked the other societies basically.
“Your Excellency, I’m BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā from Brahm Ayodhyā Creations. I’m a businessman.”*
I smiled slightly.
“I thought so.”
“What?”
“A student of character would so classify you.”
“I see. You mean you are a student of character?”
“Any trial lawyer, any politician, likes to think that he is. If he’s at all successful he has to be. Won’t you be seated?”
“Thank you, Your Excellency,”
BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā sat down across the table from me, regarded me thoughtfully, then leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.
BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā’s heavy shoulders and neck gave him an air of belligerence.
“Sir,” he said politely, “that is one of the reasons I came to you despite my past experiences of you, are that you would again throw me to the wolves if there comes any beautiful lady that deserves protection more than I do.”
“I see. What’s the reason?”
“That you are a judge of character.” BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā said politely, “I need you to do some judging for me, Your Excellency.”
“You said you were Vinod Sharmā once.”
“That’s right. I suffered from a severe heart attack and couldn’t keep my life then.”
I eyed him sympathetically.
“A man should be strong enough to take anything adverse so that it doesn’t cause any heart attack to him. He is the Sun of his family, Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā.”
“My family rejected me to keep me as her Sun. She needed a better Sun, you.”
“Are you complaining to me for it, Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā?”
“I would certainly have if I were Vinod Sharmā still now.”
“I see.”
“I was a damnfool then, Your Excellency,”
“Call me ‘Durgesh’. I prefer to be called thus more. If you don’t have any adverse prejudice against it, I mean.” I smiled.
“Thank you.” BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā too smiled, “‘Durgesh’, then. I learned my lesson in the hard way. I thought a wife must be loyal to her husband,”
“Even if the husband doesn’t care to fulfill his duties towards her?”
“Well, a family needs sacrifice if we want to keep it.”
“Sacrifice from a wife always?”
“Not always.”
“Oh,”
“Arundhatī Joshī, my wife then, should have divorced me if she wasn’t happy with me.”
“And since Arundhatī Joshī didn’t divorce you, she ‘cheated’ you instead, you let a heart attack dominate you. What a manly step! Arundhatī Joshī was the only woman for you in the entire Multiverse? Why couldn’t you yourself divorce Arundhatī Joshī , if you felt she cheated you? Vinod Sharmā, a woman appreciates a strong man, not a man as weak as you were when you were Vinod Sharmā.”
BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā looked at me appreciatively.
“I accepted that I learned my lesson in the hard way, Sir. I thought you were my friend and…”
“Didn’t I advise you, Vinod Sharmā, to be more careful to your wife, Arundhatī Joshī, than you were then?”
“Well, you said I should let her suck my penis, to have anal sex with her.”
“And you couldn’t do it?”
“My traditional Brāhmañ sacraments then, never let me understand your Bachhalyā ethics.”
“These aren’t Bachhalyā ethics, BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā, these are Vedic Ethics instead. And these are never impractical.”
“I understand, now.”
“It’s your reincarnation, Punarjanm?”
“How? You are a Bachhalyā now. The Bachhalyās are Vishishŧ Brahm, eternals. They never die. Then how could you get a Bachhalyā male body for your Parkāyā Pravésh?”*
BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā smiled.
“Sure. Who else can know more about the Bachhalyās than the original Bachhalyā that caused Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī to establish an endless Bachhalyā Empire destroying the traditional Brāhmañ Empire then forever?”
I eyed BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā scornfully.
“I hate every tradition if it isn’t scientific anymore, progressive and ‘Janébhyah’.”
“I understand.” BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā said, “I need some good detective work and don’t want it to be known to my family members.”
“Oh,”
“There are some problems when you belong to a Bachhalyā family.”
“Every family has its own individual personal problems whether Bachhalyā or otherwise. There isn’t any family, Bachhalyā, Brāhmañ, Musalmān or whatsoever that doesn’t have its own problems.”
“That’s right. But I’m telling something else.”
“I see.”
“A Bachhalyā family is somewhat far more different from the Brāhmañ families, Musalmān families, Dvij Hindu families and the rest of the other families.”
I watched BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā thoughtfully.
“I am listening to your observation.”
“A Bachhalyā family consists of Vishishŧ Brahms. It isn’t easy to plan something, even in their own benefit, concealing it from the utmost knowing Bachhalyās.”
“I understand what you want to say.” I smiled, “You have come here from a traditional Brāhmañ family. It isn’t easy for you to plan something clandestine for the utmost brilliant Vishishŧ Brahms of your family. You want my help? Okay. Tell me what your actual problem is now.”
Chapter 2
——————————————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Oath : 1
Posted: January 5, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Al Åādilah Al Farīd Al Åbbās, Al Busharah Arraħmān, Al Faisal Al Qāsim, Al Qāsim Al Åbbās, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, Annafīsah Assalmān, Annavīdah Al Vaqār, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Mustafa Kemāl Atāturk, Nafīsah Salmān, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentThe Oath
Chapter 1
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm didn’t put her palm on Al Qur’an Al Karīm.
She never took the oath she promised her husband she would take if his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, would do the same first.
There was no doubt that Al Faisal Al Qāsim loved Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm very much.
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
Jannat was below the feet of his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, he never believed her blindly.
He was brave enough to ask his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, even to take the oath of Al Qur’an Al Karīm.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm could not believe ever that Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās could go to the extent to take the false oath even when her palm was on Al Qur’an Al Karīm.
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.
It too contained the persons as high in character as Imām Muħammad Ħasan who never stopped dreaming to be the Mustafā Kemal Ataturk of the entire Islamic world.
Yet it contained Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās too who lied entirely white that she never sent Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm in my bedroom when I was fucking there her friend, Annafīsah Assalmān.
“I won’t take the oath.” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm told Al Faisal Al Qāsim.
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?
Didn’t he love her as much as he didn’t believe even his Tahajjudguzār Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās?
He never cared even a bit that even his Abbū, Al Qāsim Al Åbbās, had forgiven his wife, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, for what she had done to him, and was still doing.
He bravely challenged his Ammī to take the oath that Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was lying.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās never sent Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm deliberately in the room where I was fucking Annafīsah Assalmān.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās had smiled in her heart on the stupidity of her foolish son.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim was as foolish as her damnfool father, Al Qāsim Al Åbbās, was.
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās couldn’t divorcé Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās even while he himself caught her red handed fucking me.
Was it because Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās was as beautiful as he was obsessed with her dazzling Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān beauty so much?
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.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim had told Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm that he had promised his Ammī to divorce Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm if his Ammī would meet her challenge and Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm wouldn’t.
Nevertheless, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm never believed it.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm believed Al Faisal Al Qāsim loved her as much as he would never divorce her despite Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm would never meet the challenge of his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim loved Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm very much, no doubt, but he loved and respected his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, as well.
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?
Al Faisal Al Qāsim should never believe his Ammī, even if Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās took oath on Al Qur’an Al Karīm?
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.
Yes, he loved his wife, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, very much, but should he sacrifice even his Jannat for it?
Jannat doesn’t lie below the feet of one’s wife.
It is below the feet of one’s Ammī only.
Of course, Al Faisal Al Qāsim had his world in his love, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
Yet, a Muslim couldn’t, and never shouldn’t sacrifice his Īmān for anything whatsoever it might be.
Jannat is what both Al Faisal Al Qāsim and Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm never sacrifice.
Īmān is what both Al Faisal Al Qāsim and Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm never sacrifice.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
She wanted to get rid of Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
She did.
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.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās never wanted to let Al Qāsim Al Åbbās keep his family joint.
Yet, she allowed the ever-stupid Al Farīd Al Åbbās and his wife to live with them.
Their twenty-eight years old young beautiful daughter, Al Åādilah Al Farīd Al Åbbās, was Durgesh’s live in relationship partner already.
She always respected Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās despite the fact that she knew Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās had successfully cuckolded her husband.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās saw how shrewd her husband’s younger brother’s daughter, Al Åādilah Al Farīd Al Åbbās, was.
She investigated it and found out it was due to Durgesh, not due to Al Farīd Al Åbbās or his wife, Al Jamāl Al Islam.
She blackmailed Al Åādilah Al Farīd Al Åbbās to make Durgesh to fuck Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās too.
I obliged Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās.
Despite the fact that she wasn’t a good woman, I fucked her.
Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat.
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.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm should have counter attacked her mother in law, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās.
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,
“Are you sympathizing with me, Hindu Albuåūlatul Muslimāt?”
“I sympathies with every beautiful Musalmān houselady that either doesn’t have brain, or has it but doesn’t use for getting benefits for herself.”
“I would never take any advice from you. You want to fuck me too now.”
I smiled.
“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.”
“I don’t think you understand your present Islamic Society very well.” I said gravely, “Your Tāī Ammī is a very intelligent person that understands your present Islamic Society very well.”
“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.
“What? You still don’t believe that your wife is not faithful to you? Despite the fact that your Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, my innocent wife, took the oath on Al Qur’an Al Karīm itself?”
“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.
Why the hell Al Faisal Al Qāsim doesn’t believe his own Ammī, despite the fact that she had taken the oath on Al Qur’an Al Karīm even before their entire family, and Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm didn’t?
Was it because he had himself seen his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, herself, fucking Durgesh astride on him?
Does Al Faisal Al Qāsim argue that Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās doesn’t have any moral right to discuss his wife’s character?
“You are forgetting that when Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās was fucking Durgesh, I myself was present there.” Al Qāsim Al Åbbās said gravely.
“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?”
“Because Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās fucks Durgesh for me, with my permission, in my very presence. Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm didn’t do it for you, with your permission, in your presence.”
“I still don’t believe Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm did it.” Al Faisal Al Qāsim said gravely, “She didn’t take oath because she understood why I was doing it and she cooperated with me.”
“I see. You are blindly obsessed with her enormous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty.”
“Aren’t you too?”
“Yes, I am.” Al Qāsim Al Åbbās thundered at his son, “Nāmurād, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās is doing it for me. I am grateful to her and you must also be, if you are really my son.”
“You doubt it, don’t you?”
“Al Faisal Al Qāsim!!!” Al Qāsim Al Åbbās shouted at him.
“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.”
“Debt?”
“Sure, what the hell else was I doing when I agreed with Ammī to divorce Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm if she took oath and Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm wouldn’t? I was paying the debt of her Milk.”*
Chapter 2
————————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 21
Posted: January 1, 2015 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Aap. Indian National Congress, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Creations, Behavioural Science, BJP, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, Durgesh, ever first Psychological Revolution, Feminism, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times, HVS Law Internationals, HVSI Times, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad, indian national congress, Infinite BrāhmKalp, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħātoon-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, life sciences, Midterm 2012, Modern Democratic Årabia, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Shakīl, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Priyavrat Chaturvedī, reality, RSS, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, Seven Movements, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Young Musalmān lady Brigade 1 CommentChapter 21
Al Jihad Al Vaqār glanced about the spacious office once more.
Was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shrewd enough to play all these games?
Was it possible he deliberately gave her his media empire?
His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, had put a restrictive clause in his will about his flagship paper, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
His younger sister, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s aunt, Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar, was herself interested in purchasing The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had requested his father to have The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah even if he gave his three fourth estate to his elder sister, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī.
His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, allowed him to have it for a trial year.
In that trial year, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had to prove his competence on his aunt, Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar.
He had to exceed the circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times at least once only at some point during that trial year.
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s flagship paper, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s permanently if he could do the miracle; otherwise, it had to be sold to Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī gave the paper to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as a settlement.
Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.
Allah, would Durgesh give Al Jihad Al Vaqār what Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb also wanted to have?
Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.
It depended on what particles, what base pairs, Durgesh needed more for the new Infinite BrāhmKalp.
In Delhi, Aap had gotten a landslide victory even on BJP.
INC was finished there altogether.
It couldn’t get even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
What did it mean?
The Anti- Hindu forces were winning again?
Certainly not.
Was it the beginning of a Counter Revolution?
Against the ever first Psychological Revolution in the entire history of humankind?
It might be.
The Original ever first Psychological Revolution started with the demand of Midterm 2012.
It took two years to build up the required reality and to bring it up to the reality then.
It was a painstaking nonstop continuous Kratu of entire Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and HVSI that made the impossible possible.
And now the Counter Revolution?
Well, it isn’t so easy.
If they think they can do it so easily, they were living in fools’ paradise.
Let them.
We need only Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān vaginal rheostats and a Stavak Bar Magnet to meet it.
The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.
They are also there.
The Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always ready for every worst possibility even.
What the hell else for Modern Democratic Årabia is established by the Seven Movements, the Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, and by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself?
Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.
She was ready to get going.
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s will had made Al Jihad Al Vaqār extremely sensitive to the passage of time.
She had only one trial year.
Nevertheless, both the Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, and Durgesh were with her.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār reached for her ivory colored computer telephone, pressed the ICM button and then the intercom code for Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān’s private telephone.*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār said to Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān.
“Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, I’m ready for the meeting. Bring Ghausiyah Imtiyāz with you.”
“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”
A few minutes later Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz appeared.
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was carrying a handful of folders.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār motioned her friends and lieutenants to the rattan chairs across from her desk.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt comfortable with them.
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz were the only persons Al Jihad Al Vaqār was comfortable with beside her secretary she depended upon.
Certainly, Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s reliance on Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was without equivocation.
Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.
Moreover, both Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz were perfect when it came to reading Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s mind, even to finishing her sentences.
They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.
Both Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz hated Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded
“First things first,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said to Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, “Did you check the daily circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times?”*
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.
There was a running information,
8, 75,273.
“HVSI Times manages its subscription always on the top.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān smiled at her, “I thought we should too adopt the procedure.”
“HVSI Times represents the revolutionaries that successfully ended the Scam era.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “We haven’t enough capital to compete with HVSI, No one has.”
“Sure, but it’s today. When HVSI started HVSI Times they didn’t have this capital.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
HVSI Times was the dream newspaper.
It has survived the biggest threat of news TV channels.
It somehow always maintained to give something new to its readers the news TV channels couldn’t provide.
As soon as Al Jihad Al Vaqār got the media empire in settlement, she visited HVSI Times herself personally.
It was a multi-story building.
None knew how many stories it had.
They said it was an endless building.
No one believed it.
How a building could be endless.
It was certainly a publicity strategy.
It was the tallest building nevertheless.
The heart of the structure, the one that pumped activity into all the other stories was its Seventh floor.
Most of it was given over to the HVSI Times newsroom.
Its one portion was reserved for the publisher’s suite.
It consisted of the publisher’s main office, the office for my personal secretary and receptionist, a conference and electronic media room, two offices for the advertising director and her assistant, and glassed in cubicles for the managing editor and the assistant managing editor.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never changed anything.
He surrendered it to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as he did find it.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, the temporary heir to the suite and to the building had made few personnel changes.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār retired Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s elderly female secretary on a generous pension and replaced her with her own secretary, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, a smart, brisk, thirtyish young woman with short-cropped dark hair and horn rimmed glasses.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ had served Al Jihad Al Vaqār with devotion for seven years already in Special Projects.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ was smart enough to understand the ambitious Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ wasn’t as ambitious as Al Jihad Al Vaqār was.
Moreover, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ never had been as resourceful as Al Jihad Al Vaqār had been.
Again, the difference in the intensity of their ambitions was the decisive factor.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ lacked it.
She stopped somewhat before getting resources she was after, while Al Jihad Al Vaqār didn’t deliberately.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār had more patience in the matter.
It paid.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz,
“Let’s start with the two of you. I’ve been giving it some thought. You will both be answerable only to me. Outside of general orders, everything I tell you will be kept in strictest confidence. Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, this is a bigger job, much bigger than Special Projects. Your work will be greatly expanded, naturally, accordingly.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās straddled me with her beautiful face towards me.
She was enjoying my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her comparatively immensely young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once again.
I knew it would never be a once only phenomenon.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās could never get rid of the ever-incurable Durgesh Obsession.
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
Wasn’t it?
The more aged I grew the crazier they were for me.
“I don’t want to burn my bridges, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said fucking my ever stout ever pleasure giving ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund wildly, “And why should I? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has played with my beautiful body, even if in his own peculiar way. I couldn’t help that. My entire body was at his discretion. If instead of fucking me, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed tongue fucking me more it wasn’t my fault. I am not responsible for it. He has to pay for my time I spent with him. It was precious.”
“Sure,” I agreed with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezing her excellent exquisite boobs and buttocks both.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was harder and harder now into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with her each aggressive thrust.
She was kissing me wildly.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund around its shaft.
“I’m really entitled to this alimony if you should warn Al Nādir Al Ghāzī that HVS Law Internationals were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again. It would keep Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from making a move.”
I laughed cunningly.
“Done, however if all the alimony is going to cease in a few months, why not…”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly.
“I’m not going to let Al Nādir Al Ghāzī off. I’d go to him and offer to settle the whole business for one hundred thousand cash. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī would jump at that.”
I smiled coldly.
“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās started herself to balance on the tip of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Well?” I asked.
“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”
“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”
“Thank you.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.
“Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. Do you think I’m a gold digger?”
I smiled, grabbed her young nude waist and pulled her on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me gratefully as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely.
“Thank you,” she thanked me once again for letting her fuck me.
“Are you deceiving Priyavrat Chaturvedī for marrying him?”
“Certainly not,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said earnestly, “Priyavrat Chaturvedī knows each and everything of my previous marriages and my recent relationship with you too. I never play dirty with the persons who never play dirty with me.”
“Yet Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to marry you?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
“What do you think? Am I not that much beautiful?”
I sighed.
“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for you.”
“And you?”
“What do you mean?” I smiled cunningly.
“You won’t do anything for me, even if I keep fucking you?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my naughty eyes.
I winked at her.
“If you keep fucking me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, I can do anything for you, myself, if it isn’t immoral and illegal.”
“Even if I’d be married to Priyavrat Chaturvedī?”
“That’s Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s problem, not mine.” I said gravely.*
Priyavrat Chaturvedī reached his chair.
There was a note on his table.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, had called him.
Everything has changed fast.
Narendr Modi was delivering fast what he had promised to the one hundred twenty five crore Indians.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, was worried as the other Congresspersons were.
INC couldn’t win even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
It would again be the same thing, Priyavrat Chaturvedī thought.
Neither his father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, is trying to understand, nor Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s mother, Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad, that it wasn’t a political change only.
It was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.
It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
Priyavrat Chaturvedī stepped out and walked the length of the common room.
“Boss wants you, Priyavrat.” Muħammad Shakīl looked up from a merc pool file as Priyavrat Chaturvedī passed him.
“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”
“Why don’t you marry Ambikā Tripāŧhī, Priyavrat?” Muħammad Shakīl asked, “She is my Kħālāzād cousin. I know she would be a very good wife for you.”
Priyavrat Chaturvedī sighed,
“You don’t understand Infinite BrāhmKalp, Muħammad Shakīl.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your Kħālāzād cousin, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, is no more interested in me.”
Muħammad Shakīl was startled.
Priyavrat Chaturvedī didn’t stop there enough to explain Muħammad Shakīl the present situation.
He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*
Muħammad Shakīl liked Priyavrat Chaturvedī more than he liked his father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī.
He never knew why.
Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.
Priyavrat Chaturvedī was an ardent fan of Narendr Modi and RSS.
“INC has fooled us Musalmīn,” Muħammad Shakīl’s Kħālā, Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad, used to say, “Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was never honest to me politically.”
“That isn’t anything new, Ammī.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said, “Almost every politician lies. Pitājī isn’t any exception.”
Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.
“Your father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, isn’t only a politician to me, Priyavrat. He is my husband as well.”
“You are a highly educated woman, yourself, Ammī,” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said, “You knew right from the beginning that Nānājān wanted Pitājī, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, converted to Islam.”
“You fool; do you want to make me responsible for what my Abbū did?”
“Certainly not, Ammī, certainly not.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī agreed, “Nevertheless, you can’t blame Pitājī too. He loved you very much. Nānājān was trying his best to convert Pitājī to Islam. Pitājī couldn’t infuriate Hindus by converting himself. He would have lost Hindu votes for himself and INC. INC never permitted him.”*
Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī looked up.
“You wanted to see me, Pitājī?” Priyavrat Chaturvedī smiled.
Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī didn’t wear spectacles.
Despite his increasing age, his eyesight was still very good.
It wasn’t any rare thing now however.
They said it was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
As other Congresspersons, Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī still doubted it was so.
“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”
Priyavrat Chaturvedī never saw anything wrong in it.
Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī looked confident however as usual.
He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,
“Sit down, Priyavrat.”
Priyavrat Chaturvedī sat down stiffly and waited.
“Your Ammī said you rejected Ambikā Tripāŧhī too.”
“As always Ammī has reported you with heavy bias, Pitājī.”
“I doubted that myself. Yet, son, she is right in one thing. You should marry now.”
“What’s wrong in it if it happens?”
“Everything,” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said calmly, “I doubt Ambikā Tripāŧhī is a Brahm Padminī.”
“So what? We live in Ved Nagar. Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act isn’t applicable here. Durgesh is immensely against it.”
“Durgesh is immensely against Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act everywhere. Yet the entire Brāhmañ Brahmkanyā Brahmāñī Creations are passing it one by one. Durgesh can’t oppose Democracy. Therefore it doesn’t make any difference whether Durgesh is against it or not.”
Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī stood up, turned away and walked to the wall behind his desk.
He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.
Priyavrat Chaturvedī blinked at the unexpected insurge of grayish light.
Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī smiled.
“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”
“I don’t agree with you, Pitājī.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said gravely.
—————————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 18
Posted: December 22, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Bajrang Dal, Bajrang Dal's Bahu lao-Movement, Behavioural Science, Dr, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Al Wahāb, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kashmir, life sciences, Lākhan Singh, Maulānā Maudūdī, Maulānā Saiyad Abul Åālā Maudūdī, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim Terrorism, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Naåīm, Rājesh Rājpūt, Saiyad Abul Aålā Maudūdī, Shamīmah Iftikħār, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Sāliħah Faisal, Tafhīmul Qur’an, Terrorism, Yazīd, Yazīd malåūn, Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi, Āmnah Azhar, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm Leave a commentChapter 18
I smiled.
“According to Al Qur’an Al Karīm itself, Al Qur’an Al Karīm is actually, Tafsīl Al Kitābi. Tenth Soorat, Soora-e-Yūnus, Āyat 37. We Hindus think Ved is Alkitāb.”
Āmnah Azhar laughed impishly,
“We Musalmīn don’t. Maulānā Saiyad Abul Aålā Maudūdī raħamatullāh ålayhi, himself has written in his world famous tafhīm, Tafhīmul Qur’an:
“Umm al-Kitab”: the “Original Book”: the Book from which all the Books sent down to the Prophets have been derived.
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.”
“I see,”
“Maulānā Saiyad Abul Aålā Maudūdī has clearly written ‘inscribed in a Source Book with Allah’. Ved is not with Allah. It’s with you, Hindus.”
“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.
Typical Ammī.
Never surrendered to me for keeping Alcohol out of their life.
The Mujāhidāt were never as against the liquor as even the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh, was.
Sometimes, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ thought whether Durgesh is really right.
Countless Mujāhidāt were never against wine and sex with Hindus.
They wanted to establish Islamic supremacy on Hindus either this way or that way.
Fortunately, Hindus themselves had their Imām Nārīm Sukr’té dadhāt and Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat movements.
Pseudo Musalmīn always used these two movements for establishing Pseudo Islam.
Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi was never a Muslim at all.
No MUSLIM could do ever what Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi deliberately did to massacre true Musalmīn and to degrade true Mujāhidāt-e-Islam.*
Āmnah Azhar was lying entirely nude on her until Musalmān husband Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
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.
His nude twenty eight years old wife was lying on him in such a way that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s mouth was immediately below her beautiful Musalmān ass.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was licking her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass penetrating it with his expert tongue.
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.
Then their beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed it so much himself that he professionally adopted it to other needy beautiful Musalmān houseladies and their beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends too.
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.
They wanted to punish Musalmān terrorists, Musalmān criminals and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn in this way.
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.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed fucking Fātimah al Wahāb.
“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.
He smiled at Shamīmah Iftikħār and planted a firm but almost polite kiss on her young Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot slit.
Her young Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot was on fire.
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.
Lākhan Singh laughed, pulling away. “Not yet, Shammo!.”
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.
And undressing!
Lākhan Singh squeezed her hand reassuringly as the first one approached Shamīmah Iftikħār.
He was maybe twenty-five with a smiling, eager face.
Brown hair, average build, and naked.
His Uncut Hindu Lund was in his hand.
Shamīmah Iftikħār stared at it.
4-5 inches long.
Already hard.
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.
Not when-
Suddenly Shamīmah Iftikħār felt that strange Uncut Hindu Lund sliding up and down her Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot slit.
Her breath stopped.
In her Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Time stopped.
Shamīmah Iftikħār felt Lākhan Singh squeeze her hand again.
Then the strange Indian Uncut Hindu Lund entered Shamīmah Iftikħār’s Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Well, that’s what they said was at stake!
It was her sacrifice for the cause of Kashmir valley!
Shamīmah Iftikħār kept her eyes closed at first, as if it was some kind of dream.
Vīr Vikram Pratāp pushed all the way in, then slowly started fucking Shamīmah Iftikħār in a steady rhythm.
Her whole Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body quivered. Shamīmah Iftikħār will never get over the feeling of a new Indian Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.
If one isn’t an experienced Pakistani Sunni Musalmān woman, of Indian Uncut Hindu Lund, she has no idea.
Each one felt different.
Each experience was amazing.
Rājesh Rājpūt laughed.
“Shamīmah Iftikħār is getting gangbanged not by BJP men, by Bajrang Dal men instead, on the strategical request of PDP.”
Shamīmah Iftikħār watched Rājesh Rājpūt scornfully,
“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.
Sāliħah Faisal, my friend, Muħammad Naåīm’s wonderful, extremely beautiful, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Pakistani Sunni Musalmān wife, was lying on her stomach asleep under me.
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 could feel her wonderful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān ass filling my nude Hindu lap.
I smiled to myself as I looked at it.
It was the 3rd night of our ten-day vacation in Kashmir valley.
To both of our pleasure I had thoroughly ravaged her last night and it culminated with me cumming in that beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān ass of hers.
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
“Sāliħah Faisal!”
“Isn’t my ass extraordinarily beautiful?”
“Of course, it is. Of course, it is. But it doesn’t mean…”
“Why?”
“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.
“I know.”
“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.
And how she had seduced me three years ago, in the Moonlight.
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.
Moreover, nowadays almost every Musalmān was inviting me to take his Musalmān daughter’s cherry on her 18th birthday.
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.
Incredible?
Yet, true!
“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 suggest more.” Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ said gravely, “She must have at least one year with her sex therapist to be used to it.”
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.
Once they were removed, she quickly impaled herself upon my erect Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
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,
“Oh, she’s up early,” she said as her hips continued to slide up and down my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
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.
—————————————————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Just Eighteen Just Adult: 37
Posted: December 11, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Faisal Al Ħasan, Al Jalal Al Islam, Al Nādirah Al Faisal, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, Al Waħīdah Al Faisal, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Modern Democratic Årabia, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Mustafa Kemāl Atāturk, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ħazrat Mahdī ålayhissalām Leave a commentChapter 37
As they kissed, their movements became more urgent, more passionate, both of them wanting more.
After a few minutes, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās pulled away and turned quickly, clamping her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth over Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s clit while I was fucking her with my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached up and grabbed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s ass.
She pulled her hard to her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth so that she could lick and suck at her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her tongue roamed eagerly from her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass all the way down to her clit.
At first, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās assumed it was Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s finger slipping into her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, but it felt different – longer, thicker.
Then she realised that Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s hands where still holding her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
She sighed as she looked up and saw me beside them.
Her hand was now on my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund, stroking along my hard Hindu length.
She gasped as she pulled my foreskin back along the thick, curved length of my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund to reveal the red, bulbous head already dripping with pre cum.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal watched as I pulled my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund out of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, and moved behind her.
She reached up to stroke my hard, long ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
I moaned out loud, as she wanked me gently, her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth still on Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She pulled my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund towards Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, guiding me into her.
She watched as I stretched Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
It disappeared slowly, just the head at first, and then the whole Hindu length of mine.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās cried out as she felt my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund enter her nineteen years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Even after one year of my almost nonstop lovemaking to her, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wasn’t used to my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
She always found there was always something new my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund could give to her ever ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
What a Penis!
What a Lund!
The Penis Benevolent?
Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun.
Allah knows better.
As I filled her, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot started throbbing around my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
She felt Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s mouth sucking on her ardent Musalmān clit.
Her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth was still hungry to taste her.
I slid my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in and out of her, the first long, slow strokes being replaced by a faster, more urgent rhythm as our mutual pleasure, our need, built.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal felt Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās plunge her finger into her synchronizing with the timing of my powerful Hindu thrusts, her wetness pouring onto her smooth Musalmān thighs.
We all cried out as our climaxes built.
I roared as I drove into Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās one last time, before holding my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund deepest inside her.
She felt it jerking as my balls emptied my Hindu cum into her.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached up, lapping at my heavy Hindu balls, sucking them.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās screamed as she felt my hot Hindu cum take her over the edge, her finger deep inside Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as she cried out her pleasure as well.
I pulled out of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās rolled off Al Rābiyah Al Faisal, and snuggled up to me as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal did the same, but on the other side of me.
I leant over and kissed them in turn.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās both reached for my heavy ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund, still erect between my my strong Hindu male thighs, still anointed with Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s fragrant Musalmān juices.
I continued to fuck them as we slept again, not worn out even from our early morning exertions.*
It was my birthday.
I was sixty-five.
As usual, I woke up with a raging hardon.
Not all that unusual for a horny young man like me.
What was unusual today was what was causing it.
As I drifted from sleep to waking, I could feel something bringing me up, or bringing my ever stalwart, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, fabulous, Uncut Hindu Lund up at least.
Some pretty expert attention was being given to my throbbing member by a wet, slippery expert female Musalmān mouth and equally expert Musalmān tongue that knew just what it took to get me off.
Realizing I wasn’t dreaming, I slowly looked down to see, to my incredible surprise, a gorgeous young woman of about twenty-eight with long auburn hair, beautiful tits in a crimson lace chemise.
Her wide pink mouth was wrapped around the shaft of my ever stalwart, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, fabulous, Uncut Hindu Lund and her delicate young beautiful Musalmān hand stroked the base of it.
It was Al Faisal Al Ħasan’s wife, Al Jalal Al Islam.
“Al Jalal Al Islam?” I asked, shocked, “What the hell is happening? You’re sucking my ever stalwart, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, fabulous, Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“Mmm,” she sighed, letting my Uncut Hindu Lund slip Momentarily from her mouth, “Happy Birthday, Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām. You’re sixty-five. I thought you’d like a special birthday wake up.”
“What the hell!” I said.
“Abbū has instructed entire beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān houseladies of this household to give you special sexual treatment as Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām.”
“Nonsense!”
“It’s a grand celebration for a whole year from this very moment.” Al Faisal Al Ħasan’s wife, Al Jalal Al Islam, winked at me, teasing me.
Al Faisal Al Ħasan was Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s son.
He never approved of his Abbū’s activities.
“There is a limit of everything. I can’t understand this crazy dream of Abbū to be the Mustafa Kemal Ataturk of entire Islamic countries.”
“I love it, Al Faisal Al Ħasan,” Al Faisal Al Ħasan’s wife, Al Jalal Al Islam, said curtly, “You should too. Every dīndār and sincere Musalmān should actually.”*
Al Nādirah Al Faisal and I had been fucking each other for more than a year.
I was Al Nādirah Al Faisal’s, though not exclusively.
The exclusion was entirely impossible for I was already married to Saiyadah Fātimah PhD even before Al Nādirah Al Faisal came in my life.
So were the other countless beautiful Musalmān houseladies that were my live in relationship partners, my patients in sex therapy etc.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal shared my bed every night.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal was totally in love with me, and I was in love with Al Nādirah Al Faisal.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal heard my car pull into the driveway, and she greeted me at the front door.
Throwing her arms around my neck, Al Nādirah Al Faisal pulled me close to her and covered my mouth with hers.
It wasn’t a daughterly “welcome home” kiss, it was deep and passionate, including lots of tongue.
“Hi, Durgesh.”
“Hi, Al Nādirah Al Faisal.”
I had called her “Al Nādirah Al Faisal” as long as she could remember, starting when Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a little girl.
Now that Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a grown woman, at nineteen, I still calls Al Nādirah Al Faisal that.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal loved it.
“Sit down on the couch, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, and I’ll mix you a drink.”
I was a Juice drinker.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal poured me a double shot.
I hated liquor.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal had a glass of wine.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal snuggled up next to me and asked me about my day.
I was a Sex Therapist, specializing in beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Expensive cure.
The house HVSI built for Al Nādirah Al Faisal and I was all redwood, natural stone, and lots of glass.
It sat on ten acres, surrounded by woods, and we have a beautiful swimming pool in the backyard.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal and I swim naked.
I was Sixty-Five, but I looked thirty years younger. I had broad shoulders.
I was well muscled, due to my years of sex therapy work.
I still had black hair, miraculously, and black seductive eyes.
I was her idol. Her stepfather, her lover, her best friend.
As Al Nādirah Al Faisal said, we’ve been lovers for about a year, starting just after her eighteenth birthday.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal developed a terrible crush on me just when she entered puberty and her body started to change.
I didn’t make any overt moves toward Al Nādirah Al Faisal for several years; neither could she tell I was looking at Al Nādirah Al Faisal in a different way.
Once her beautiful Musalmān breasts formed their first little buds, they grew rapidly.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a B cup in the ninth grade, and by the time Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a senior in high school, Al Nādirah Al Faisal had grown into the C cup that Al Nādirah Al Faisal was now.
I was very open and very frank with Al Nādirah Al Faisal when it came to discussing anything of a sexual nature.
If Al Nādirah Al Faisal had any questions about sex, I would answer them for Al Nādirah Al Faisal, without any admonishments or judgment.
Her periods were very irregular, so with my consent, her lady doctor, Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ, prescribed birth control pills to help regulate them.
I was quite aware that a lot of teenagers were sexually active, so with the pill, I felt Al Nādirah Al Faisal would be safe.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal had a lot of girlfriends in high school, yet nothing serious.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal did a bunch of making out and a little light touching, through our clothes, but that was the extent of her sexual activity.
Until myself.
I finished my juice, and Al Nādirah Al Faisal mixed her another one.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal sat down beside me, cuddled up, and nuzzled her neck, raining little butterfly kisses all over my face.
Fisting my hand in her hair, I pulled her face into me, and Al Nādirah Al Faisal crushed her lips down on mine.
Kissing me totally intoxicated Al Nādirah Al Faisal, inflamed her with desire.
When I kissed Al Nādirah Al Faisal, there was a hotline between her lips and her clit.
It started to tingle, and Al Nādirah Al Faisal squirmed next to me.
While her tongue was in my mouth, Al Nādirah Al Faisal put her hand on the bulge in my jeans, feeling my Hindu erection grow beneath her beautiful young Musalmān fingers.
Her mouth was more insistent as I undid the button on her Levi’s and she pulled my zipper down.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal could hear me groan appreciating Al Nādirah Al Faisal, as her hand reached under her shorts, wrapping it around my hardened Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund shaft.
Gripping me firmly, Al Nādirah Al Faisal slid the loose skin on my Sixty five years old, utmost skilled, utmost gifted, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund up and down.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal tugged on my pants and pulled them down, exposing my magnificent Sixty five years old, utmost veteran, utmost capable, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund , totally hard, the bulbous head shining and swollen.
Bending down toward me, Al Nādirah Al Faisal took my Sixty five years old, utmost proficient, utmost clever, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund in her hand and lowered her head, taking me in her beautiful young Musalmān mouth.
Coating me with her saliva, Al Nādirah Al Faisal ran her pink Musalmān tongue around and around my swollen Hindu crown while bobbing her beautiful young Musalmān head up and down on me.
Her now expert Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue flicked over that sensitive place when her head met the shaft.
This drove me crazy, and my hips started to buck, my Sixty five years old, ultimate experienced, ultimate talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund rising up to meet her beautiful young Musalmān mouth every time it went down.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal cupped my balls in her hand, fondling them first, and then pulling my scrotum down, in rhythm with her descending mouth.
A growl emitted from deep in her throat.
I threw my head back and fisting both hands in her hair, I pulled her beautiful Musalmān head up and down as I thrust up my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal was never surprised that it went on for hours.
She was habitual of my ever lasting sexual prowess now entirely.
My every woman was habitual of it gradually ultimately, sooner or later.
Ultimately, Al Nādirah Al Faisal knew I was getting close to release.
I held her tighter.
My balls started to draw up tight.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal could feel the head of my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund swell even more.
Gently, Al Nādirah Al Faisal raked her fingernails over my hardened sack, and that pushed me over the edge.
Shouting her name, I erupted, shooting wad after wad of my Hindu cum down the back of her young Musalmān throat.
Swallowing it all, Al Nādirah Al Faisal looked at up me and smiled.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal really loved to make me cum like this, because Al Nādirah Al Faisal knew very well, how much I’d pay it back to her into her young ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, when we go to bed that night.
Leaving me sated, Al Nādirah Al Faisal got up and made our supper.
Over the years, Al Nādirah Al Faisal had become a really good cook.
That night, Al Nādirah Al Faisal made poached salmon, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and baby red potatoes.
We had just finished dinner, when the phone rang.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal answered it, and with a scowl, handed it to me.
“It’s HER,” Al Nādirah Al Faisal said.
“Her” referred to her Ammī.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal could never call her Ammī or Mom.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal hated her.
I talked with her for a while.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal couldn’t make much from my side of the conversation, except for an “Uh huh.” “I see.” “Yes.” “I’ll be there.”
“What was that about, Durgesh darling?”
“Well, it seems Al Waħīdah Al Faisal is coming to live with us.”
“Why, Lillāh?” Al Nādirah Al Faisal wailed.*
It was mid morning when we were all awake again.
We stayed together until lunchtime, making love, the three of us enjoying each other’s company, each other’s excellent bodies.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās made love to me, teasing me, loving me, kissing and caressing me.
Each of them was as if crazy for me.
I knew very well that it wasn’t my utmost sexual expertise only that, was making even these teenagers crazy to fuck me.
It was the deliberately planned strategy of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Modern Democratic Årabia, the Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Modern Democratic Årabia too now, their Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, etctera.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan didn’t want originally to let it happen in this way.
Nevertheless, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was more popular and more capable now.
“She is using the ever unquenched thirst of optimum sex of beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Durgesh, my son.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the great man, commented on it gravely, “I wanted to establish Islamic Democracy in the so called Islamic countries and Musalmīn. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s idea of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah was never in my imagination.”
“That’s what I said, Abbū.” I commented gravely myself.
“I thought I could use my daughter’s immense obsession to you, positively.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said ruefully.
“She is trying to make almost every beautiful Musalmān houselady my wife and my wife only. It’s the ever oldest ‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Ummil Åālmīnam’ movement, nothing else.”
“Projection of that time cycle?”
“I’m confident of it cent percent. Of course, Eīshāno Vishvvedasah, Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun!”
“Why do you think you aren’t Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām?”
They shared my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund as I lay back on the bed, our mouths and hands everywhere.
They watched as a torrent of my Hindu cum exploded from my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund, splattering onto their exquisite young Musalmān breasts and tummies.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal leant over me, sucking the last of my Hindu cum from me.
I moved to one side then, and watched as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal shared my Hindu cum with Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, before easing her onto her back.
I watched as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal licked and sucked my Hindu cum off my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, watched as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās writhed under our lovers’ lips and tongue and mouth.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās reached for Al Rābiyah Al Faisal, tracing her fingers through the cum on her pert exquisite young Musalmān breasts before sucking it hungrily from her fingers.
We lay side by side, our bodies pressed together as we kissed, our hands moving over each other’s sexy bodies.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal stroked me as I watched, my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund long and hard in Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s hand.
My Hindu shaft was throbbing.
I moved behind Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as she knelt over Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, all of us moaning as I eased my Ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, extreme expert, unique, paramount celebrated, Uncut Hindu Lund into Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal moaned as my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund filled her.
I moaned as her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sucked me in deep, moulding itself around my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
And Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moaned as she watched my Ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, ultimate renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund disappear into Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s beautiful ardent Musalmān Choot, as she reached up and ran her Musalmān tongue over my Hindu balls.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās watched my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund for few moments, watching it slide in and out of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal.
As Al Rābiyah Al Faisal started to cry out, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wriggled out from underneath her.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal immediately reached out for the end of the bed, arching her back, urging me to fuck her harder, to fuck her deeper, faster.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās knelt beside her, reaching for Al Rābiyah Al Faisal‘s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, touching and caressing her.
As Al Rābiyah Al Faisal came again, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was pulsating around my perpetually resolute, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moved to kneel beside her, to reach out for the end of the bed in an image of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal.
Her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass was in the air, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was wet and ready.
I pulled my perpetually resolute, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund out of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as her orgasm subsided and drove it straight into my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady’s waiting luscious Musalmān body.
I fucked her hard.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was now beside me.
Her hand reached between my legs for my swaying Hindu balls.
Her other hand was running between Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s tight Musalmān cheeks, searching out her puckered Musalmān hole.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās cried out as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, quickly matching the rhythm of my thrusting perpetually resolute, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās almost sobbed as I pulled out of her, but then thrust back with a groan as she felt my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund nudging against her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal guided me, feeding me into Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s beautiful Musalmān ass until I was fucking her again.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached under Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, rubbing her ardent Musalmān clit with one hand, her own clit with the other.
I held Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s hips driving into her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
My perpetually resolute, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund, my body, was on fire.
With a roar I came, my Hindu cum erupted into Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s gorgeous Musalmān ass as she came.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal fell back on the bed.
After holding each other for long minutes, we all showered, all too aware that our time together was at an end.
Chapter 38
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Just Eighteen Just Adult: 35
Posted: December 10, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, Al Ħamd Al Ħasan, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Modern Democratic Årabia, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Seven Movements, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentChapter 35
Her Three Generations
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I went out later, wandering from our city centre hotel down towards the Coliseum, before walking back through the roman Forum.
We stopped often, soaking up the atmosphere, imagining the roar of the crowds hundreds of years before, imagining the Senators meeting, talking, and plotting.
It was an unseasonably warm day.
We found a café and sat outside to eat Pizza, drink coffee and watch the world go by.
We took a horse drawn carriage to the pantheon, and marvelled at the beauty of the paintings and sculptures inside.
We walked around the city, soaking up the atmosphere and history, walking hand in hand, enjoying being together.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās still couldn’t believe she was too my wife now despite the fact that she was only Just Eighteen Just Adult when she first succeeded in having my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-four years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund into her then Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She was jealous of her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, when she deliberately watched her having sex with me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could never understand why her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, revolted against her Nānā Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan and started to live openly with his ever greatest enemy, the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh.
“Kħālājān, I hate Nānī Ammī immensely.” She told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan expressly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“I myself hate her, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās. But we can’t do anything.”
“Now I understand why the Musalmīn turn to be terrorists.” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās said furiously, “The Hindus always manage to have sex with our ever sacred Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān womankind, either this way or that way.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her elder sister’s daughter calculatingly.
She couldn’t be more than thirteen now.
At the most, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could be fourteen only.
She could not understand why Durgesh was so popular among hot Musalmān houseladies if they were beautiful too.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, needed wild animal sex, her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, never provided his wife.
He hated wild animal sex basically.
It wasn’t a human act for him ever.
Yet, Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, needed it very much.
She went to Durgesh, not because she had another option, yet she was unfaithful to her husband, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, actually never had another option.
She had so much fire between her legs that only Durgesh’s ever stout, ever miraculous, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund could quench it, none else.
Not even any other Hindu male.
Not perhaps even Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Moreover, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was an ardent anti Muslim Hindu, even if Nafīsah Salmān could forget that Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a criminal that was immensely capable to dodge the law and order of every country anywhere.
He was Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar actually.
The only difference was that Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar invented a new religion, Dīn-e-Ilāhī too, against Islam.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar never did it.
He never needed to.
As it began to get dark, we returned to the hotel, to the suite we now shared.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband spotted Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s bikini and teased her, asking if she had managed to get a swim that morning.
“Come on,” she retorted, grabbing her bikini, “Let’s go now.”
“I can think of other things to do,” I told her.
She stripped off, standing naked before me.
Her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body was firm and beautiful.
However, with a laugh, she wriggled away from me and pulled her bikini on quickly.
She reached into a draw and threw me my trunks.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got changed quickly.
We both pulled on the robes the hotel provided before heading out towards the lifts.
Minutes later Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I were at the indoor pool.
Dropping her gown on a sun bed, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stepped towards the water and dived in gracefully.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband followed her more sedately, and began to swim a few lengths, always looking out for Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
She swam well, passing me a few times as her years of practice began to show.
After swimming a couple of dozen lengths, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband stopped at the shallow end and rested, my back against the edge of the pool.
We were alone now, the last of the other swimmers having just left.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stopped next to me, both of us were glancing across at where we had met the night before.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband moved to stand in front of her.
Reaching out, I stepped closer.
My hands were on her hips.
We kissed softly.
Our Ashvinātam bodies were very close.
Despite the fact that I was sixty-five years old now, I never appeared my age.
Everyone thought I was anywhere between twenty-eight and thirty-five only.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was nineteen now.
We were fucking each other now for a complete year already.
As we parted, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās smiled.
“It looks different in daylight,” she murmured, thinking of the night before.
“I try not to think about,” The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband told her.
“Why not,” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Because this happens,” I told, taking her hand and pressing it against the hard Hindu bulge in my trunks.
“Swim then,” she laughed, dodging past me and swimming away, teasing me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband swam after her, but she had disappeared over to the other side of the pool.
I went after her, missing her time and again.
Each time the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got closer, I reached out to her, touching her, and then she was gone.
She touched my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in passing, teasing me, but always evading me.
Eventually I caught her, laughing, in the corner.
I pulled Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās to me, kissing her hard, feeling her firm extremely beautiful female Musalmān young body against me, her erect nipples pressing into my chest, my hard ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund against her.
She pressed herself against me, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sliding up and down the ridge of my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through my swimming trunks.
She wriggled free, and dropped below the surface of the water.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands tugged at my trunks, pulling my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund free.
It sprang up, released from its restraints, unaffected by the cold water.
Her hot beautiful Musalmān mouth descended on me, sliding down my Hindu length.
Her beautiful quivering red crimson ardent Musalmān lips were forming a seal around me. Her tongue lapped at my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head, buried in her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
She took my balls in one hand, her other hand on my buttocks, holding me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband groaned as this seemed to last for ages, but in reality it was only seconds before she shot to the surface, gasping for breath.
With barely a glance around, we moved to the shallow part of the pool, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund jutting out in front of me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband lifted her onto the edge of the pool, my lips locking onto hers as we held each other tight.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās grabbed my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund, peeling the skin back down my shaft, pulling my swollen ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head towards her.
Dragging her bikini bottoms to one side, she exposed her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to me.
I caught a quick glimpse of her wet, wanton lips and then I was inside her.
I pushed forward as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wrapped her beautiful nude Musalmān legs around me, pulling tight as I drove my thick Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund deep inside Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s young Musalmān body.
As we fucked, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband tugged at the strings of her bikini top, pulling it away from her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, freeing her full exquisite young Musalmān breasts.
Her nipples were like pebbles pressing into my chest as we kissed, as we fucked.
Her beautiful nude Musalmān legs tightened around me, pulling me deeper and deeper inside her as I fucked her faster and faster.
She leant back; her arms behind her, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts thrust upwards, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot pushed forward towards me.
It lasted we never knew for how long.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was always immensely surprised for my Hindu lust for her.
I always fucked her as if I was a wild animal that had gone mad.
She had always to acknowledge her defeat.
Similarly, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās never found her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, winning over me.
She never found her Kħālājān, now thirty-three years old, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, ever winning over me.
Even her Ammī, Al Ħamd Al Ħasan, never succeeded in winning the sixty-five years old miraculous Hindu in any sex game she played with Durgesh.
The ever wonderful man was defeating her three generations, including herself.
His sexual lust to fuck beautiful Musalmān houseladies of any age whatsoever was incredible.
Durgesh could just fuck them endlessly with ever increasing manly vigor even.
Ultimately, we were cumming, crying out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot moulded itself tighter around my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
The waves of pleasure crashed through her, as spurts of my warm, thick Hindu cum filled her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
We clung together, gasping to breathe, then laughing at our release, then controlling ourselves as we remembered where we were.
We dressed ultimately.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband was pulling my trunks up while Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās re-tied her top and straightened her bottoms.
We swam back to the far end of the pool, before climbing out and grabbing some towels from the pile left by the hotel.
Pulling our robes back on, we headed back to our room, eager to be alone again.*
It was late evening when we left the hotel.
We were heading towards the hard Rock Café, a venue we always enjoyed.
Fortunately, we were seated within half an hour of arriving, and were soon pondering the menu while she was sipping on ice-cold beers and I a juice.
“Hi, I’m Al Rābiyah Al Faisal. I’m your waitress for the evening.”
We both looked up from the menus and said “Hello” to our server.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband couldn’t help watching her as she walked away.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was tall and slender, in her mid twenties.
Her accented English was almost perfect.
Her dark hair was tied back, her white blouse clinging to her pert Musalmān body, her green skirt short and tight around her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
“Ouch!”
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband cried out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kicked me on the shins, an amused grin on her face as she watched me watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was back shortly to take our orders.
She stood next to me, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder as we smiled.
When we had ordered, she ran her hand lightly down my arm and thanked us, before sashaying away.
Her hips were swinging.
Her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass was rocking from side to side in her tight skirt.
Throughout the evening, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was friendly and attentive, always touching my arm and running her hand down it when we were finished chatting.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās took all of this in with amusement, and not with even a little jealousy.
“I think she fancies you, you Anant Muslimātchod Hindu! Is there any Musalmān Beauty, name only a single one, that isn’t crazy to fuck you ever?” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās teased.
However, moments later it was I teasing her as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal brought Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s dessert.
She rested her hand on Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s arm as she put the ice cream in front of her, then ran her hand down her arm and squeezed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand gently.
“Enjoy!” she told her.
“In which case,” I told Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walked away, “She must fancy you as well.”
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wasn’t listening – she was far too busy watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walking away, her eyes locked on her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, her tongue flicking over her suddenly dry lips.
I took all of this in, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was hardening as I watched my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady, my lover, looking at the waitress.
Suddenly I remembered the way Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās had looked at other girls before, some of the comments she had made, especially about the beautiful dancer we had seen at the moulin Rouge when we were in Paris – and I began to wonder…
When we were finished, I paid the bill and left the beautiful Al Rābiyah Al Faisal an extravagant tip.
She thanked me, leaning over to kiss me on my lips naughtily, before hugging Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
I watched them.
My ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund reacted again.
As we left, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal squeezed our arms one last time, then told us that she had enjoyed meeting us, and that she finished at eleven if we fancied a drink.
Then, with a delicious, inviting smile, she was gone.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I stared at each other, not quite sure what to make of what Al Rābiyah Al Faisal had said.
Nevertheless, both our bodies reacted to those words, to her look.
We didn’t mention Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as we walked through Rome, heading for the Tivoli fountain, wanting to see it lit up at night.
We stood by the fountains, enjoying the sound of the water, the sight of the beautiful statues and carvings.
I gave Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās a coin and told her to throw it over her shoulder into the fountain and make a wish.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās did, closing her eyes and making her wish as I watched her.
“Well,” I asked, “What did you wish for?”
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās hesitated for a moment then told me, her voice husky and her eyes bright.
“I wished we could …… make it back to the café before eleven.”
I stared at her, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund growing hard as I took in her words, the expression on her face.
I glanced at my watch, then grabbed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand and led her back the way we had come.*
We made it just in time, but then felt uncertain as we watched Al Rābiyah Al Faisal appear from the restaurant with some other waitresses.
We stood watching her, hesitating, not sure what to do when Al Rābiyah Al Faisal turned and saw us.
Her face lit up with that delicious smile again.
she quickly said goodbye to the others before walking to meet Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and me.
We both watched her walking those dozen yards.
Her long coat was undone, falling open as she walked.
She was wearing the same clothes as before, but this time our eyes were on her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, taut against her blouse, her nipples dark and promising, and on her long legs.
She appeared from beneath her coat with each step, her skirt rising high up on her stocking clad thighs.
“You made it,” she greeted us, stepping between us, turning and looping her arms through ours.
“Where shall we go,” she continued, hardly drawing breath, “Lots of places are closing now … How about your hotel? Does it have a bar? Is it far?”
I smiled and said that it wasn’t far, and then led the way.
We chatted as we walked, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s cheery banter easing any uncertainty Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I might have had, although neither of us thought about where this might lead.
It only took us fifteen minutes or so to get back to the hotel, but as soon as we walked into reception, we were hit by the noise of a huge party going on.
The bar was packed, as were the lounges around reception.
I looked around for somewhere quieter.
“How about our room?” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās asked, her voice trembling slightly, “It’s big enough …. Is that okay with you Al Rābiyah Al Faisal?”
“That’s great …. Let’s use room service to get a drink; it’ll be quicker than hanging around here.”
Almost in a daze, still unsure of what was happening; Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās led the way to the lift.
Minutes later, we were back in our suite, and I was on the phone to room service ordering a bottle of champagne.
I dropped the phone back on its rest and turned back to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal to tell them that the champagne was on its way.
Nevertheless, I was suddenly too cautious to speak as I took in the sight before me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal stood close together.
Their exquisite young Musalmān breasts were touching, their hips pushing forward against each other, their mouths locked together.
They parted as they sensed I was looking at them.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās came to me and kissed me softly.
I could taste Al Rābiyah Al Faisal on her as our tongues slipped over each other.
Then Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was next to me, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing against my arm, firm and warm.
As soon as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lips left my, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was kissing me, her agile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue flicking along my Hindu male lips before slipping deep into my Hindu mouth.
I groaned as I held them both to me, as I felt hands, two beautiful female Musalmān hands, sliding over the Hindu bulge in my trousers.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal led the way to the sofa in the sitting room part of the suite.
We all sank down, I in the middle, as we took turns to kiss, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I.
Our hands found each other easily, touching, caressing.
We stopped only when we heard tapping on the door, and a call of “room service”.
I let the waiter into the room, noticing the looks both Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās gave me.
He put the champagne on the side, and left as soon as I had tipped him.
I poured their drinks, handing glasses to Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās before rejoining them.
They sipped their champagne.
We chatted, totally at ease, happy for the growing sexual tension to grow even more, for our need and desire to grow.
After what seemed like an age, I leant over Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and put my glass of juice down. I took hers from her and placed it next to mine before taking her in my arms.
I kissed her softly, my hands caressing her pert exquisite young Musalmān breasts through her blouse.
Slowly, I undid each of the buttons down the front of her blouse, conscious of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moving to kneel in front of us so that she could help.
As soon as the buttons were undone, I eased Al Rābiyah Al Faisal onto her back on the sofa.
I pulled her blouse open, gasping as I stared down at her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, at her dark nipples barely hidden by the lace of her cream bra.
I touched her lightly, my hands moving up her sides, then across to her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, to her hard nipples.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was still kneeling on the floor beside us.
Reaching down between my hands, between Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, she gently undid the clasp at the front of the cream bra.
I slid my hands across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, into the deep Musalmān valley between them, before slipping my Hindu hands under the edge of each cup, and then slowly back across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, exposing them to our gaze.
I felt the firmness of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts under my hands, of her hard, puckered nipples.
As my hands reached her sides, leaving her exquisite young Musalmān breasts totally exposed, both Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I gasped as we took in their beauty.
I dipped my hand, taking Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s nipple in between my thumb and forefinger.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās leant over her, and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal moaned loudly as both her nipples were teased.
I ran my hand over her flat tummy, over her skirt.
I rubbed down the front of her panties, feeling her wetness, feeling her juices rushing from her.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moved away from her breast, and the two girls kissed – soft, passionate kisses that set them all moaning.
As my hand reached inside Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s panties, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood up.
She moved away a little, so that Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I could see her.
As we watched, I rubbed my fingers along Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s wet Musalmān slit, teasing her, toying with her hard Musalmān clit.
We watched as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās danced slowly, sensually, undoing the buttons down the front of her dress, before pushing the dress off her shoulders.
It fell to the ground as she ran her hands over her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, pinching her own nipples.
Now Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood before them, naked apart from her thong.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands ran lower, until one was on her tummy, and one inside her underwear.
She turned around, and bent over to slip her thong off, pointing her firm Musalmān ass at us.
Her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was peeking out between her beautiful nude Musalmān legs.
She turned back towards us, and held out her hands.
“Let’s go to bed,” was all she said.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached her hands up to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, and stood up.
The girls fell naturally into each other’s arms, their naked exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing together.
We kissed again.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was painfully hard.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal ran her hands down Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s back, down to her firm Musalmān ass.
I moved behind her, pushing her dark hair to one side so that I could kiss her neck.
I pulled her blouse and bra down her arms, leaving her topless.
As the girls carried on kissing, moaning softly as our tongues explored, I dropped to my knees, scattering kisses down Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s slender back.
I unzipped her skirt, easing it down off her hips.
All she wore under it was a cream thong and her black hold up stockings.
Her rounded Musalmān buttocks were firm, creamy white against the rest of her.
I kissed each side of her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass gently, before easing her thong down.
I eased her stockings down as well, one at a time, leaving her naked.
Her moaning got louder as I ran my Uncut Hindu Lund between her pert Musalmān cheeks.
She pushed her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass out, exposing more of herself to me.
I teased her tight little hole with the tip of my Uncut Hindu Lund, holding her hips and pulling her to me.
I stood up and led these two naked, gorgeous Musalmān women to the bed.
The contrast between them was amazing.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was more slender, darker.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was more rounded, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts and hips fuller but still wonderfully firm, both of them incredibly sexy.
Once by the bed, they both turned to me.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal kissed me.
Our kiss was soft and gentle to start with, growing quickly in passion as our tongues came into play.
We stopped kissing briefly as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās pulled my shirt over my head.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal immediately leant down, kissing and biting me.
Her hand reached for my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through the thin material of my trousers, squeezing it.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal dropped to her knees in front of me, still looking up at me.
I sensed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kneeling down behind me.
Their hands pulled my trousers, dragging them and my underwear over my hips, down my thighs and off.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund sprung up, standing out rigid, pre cum dripping from the tip.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as it pointed at her, her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth automatically slipping over the tip, greedily sucking my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head into her hungry extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
——————————————————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Årab Mahā Bhārat: ‘Ādi Parv 1/22: Saůūdī Årabia’-18
Posted: August 29, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Firdaus Al Jamāl, Al Zia Al Wahāb, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Attāhirah Assaiyad, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Brahm Nārāyañ Mukherjī, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Lord Kr’shñ, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Shékħ Al Zabīr, Shékħzādī Al Hudā Al Aħmad Al Jabīr, Shékħzādī Al Sābirah, Shékħzādī Al Sābirah Al Wahāb, Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm, Shékħzādī Kħālidah Umm Mūsā, Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr, Sheikħ Ammī, Sheikħ Aħmad, Sheikħzādī Kħālidah Umm Moosā, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ħazrat Yūsuf ålayhissalām Leave a commentÅrab Mahā Bhārat: :
Ādi Parv 1/22: Saůūdī Årabia:
Chapter 18
Sheikħ Aħmad
Durgesh Attāhirah Assaiyad
Sheikħzādī Kħālidah Umm Moosā Brahm Nārāyañ Mukherjī
Sheikħ Aħmad himself was startled when he found he wasn’t any longer interested in sexual intercourse with his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Kuwaiti Wahābī Musalmān wife, Sheikħzādī Kħālidah Umm Moosā.
He had heard that his friends were licking their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives’ beautiful Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass even after Durgesh fucked them.
He could never believe it.
However, it was startling to him that he himself started doing the same.
Once his wife, Sheikħzādī Kħālidah Umm Moosā, refused to oblige him, he didn’t have another option except to seduce his twenty-five years old secretary, Attāhirah Assaiyad.
Even Attāhirah Assaiyad couldn’t believe when he asked her to seduce Durgesh, fuck him and let him eat her after that.
“While we wait for Durgesh’s cock to get hard again, which shouldn’t take very long at all. I’m going to make you cum again, Attāhirah Assaiyad. Lie on the bed.”
Attāhirah Assaiyad did and Sheikħ Aħmad pulled her extremely beautiful, young, firm, perfect, round, heavy, plump, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass to the edge, getting on his knees between her legs.
Sheikħ Aħmad pushed her legs open and rested them on his shoulders.
Then Sheikħ Aħmad pushed her open.
Attāhirah Assaiyad felt her inner most being exposed to air.
Sheikħ Aħmad felt him blowing gently on her and then his tongue.
Allah, Oh God, his tongue! Wet and warm ran from her pulsating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clit down her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit, dipping into her tight little hole all the way down and circling her extremely beautiful, young, firm, perfect, round, heavy, plump, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān asshole and then tracing back up.
Attāhirah Assaiyad’s body tensed and relaxed all at once.
Sheikħ Aħmad began suckling her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit just as he had her nipples and the sensation was almost too much.
Sheikħ Aħmad, her employer, slid his finger inside her.
It was so much longer and bigger than hers was.
Sheikħ Aħmad felt Attāhirah Assaiyad’s body clamp onto as Sheikħ Aħmad began flickering his tongue on her sex.’
“Allah, Oh God!” Attāhirah Assaiyad sat up and wrapped her legs around his head pulling his face deeper into her.
Sheikħ Aħmad began pumping his fingers in and out and suckling her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit.
Attāhirah Assaiyad grabbed handfuls of his hair.
Sheikħ Aħmad felt the explosion as Sheikħ Aħmad pushed Attāhirah Assaiyad’s back down onto the bed.
Attāhirah Assaiyad was already filled with my Hindu cum and her own ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān cum optimum.
Yet, she still came hard.
All her muscles were clenching and releasing.
Attāhirah Assaiyad could hear her voice and her gasps without being able to control the noises she made.
As Attāhirah Assaiyad slid from the apex of pleasure, once more, Sheikħ Aħmad, her employer, gently licked her clean, slurping every bit of my Hindu cum and Attāhirah Assaiyad’s ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān cum entirely.
Sheikħ Aħmad left nothing there.
Attāhirah Assaiyad’s Musalmān Cunt was as cleaned now as if she had been dooshed now perfectly.*
Attāhirah Assaiyad smiled at me,
“Durgesh, that hover car accident! We informed the police at Trantor last night. They were going to notify you personally.”
“Get them on the phone, Tāhirah. I still can’t understand how a robot driven hover car can have an accident, however trivial it may be. There must be something extraordinary behind it.”
“Won’t the police can take care of it themselves? Is it necessary for the Mayor of Ved Nagar himself to take care of it?”
“There are some reasons, Attāhirah Assaiyad.” I said gravely. Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr both are in Trantor now. The police may not understand its importance. I don’t want to take any risk. I have to take care of Al Zia Al Wahāb too.”
Attāhirah Assaiyad suddenly watched me cunningly.
“Is Al Zia Al Wahāb really a cabaret dancer only, Mr. Mayor?”
“What do you mean?”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun, God knows better, I can’t digest Al Zia Al Wahāb is a normal cabaret dancer. I suspect she is a spy of Pseudo Musalmīn or of someone else.”
“You have already said it various times previously. I never told you that I kept watching her myself constantly. Yet, I never found anything doubtful about her.”
“She is more cunning, I think, than we anticipate her to be.” Attāhirah Assaiyad retorted.
“Well,” I said, “I haven’t stopped watching her still now.”
“I see.” Attāhirah Assaiyad sighed, “That’s all we can do in this matter, I think.”
I picked up my mobile,
“Hello, this is Durgesh. I left a memo there yesterday about being called in connection with a robot driven hover car accident. I have some property that was taken from a car that was crowded off the road. There was a Maulānā with a broken arm. You were going to get his address and call personally me back.”
“Yes, sir.” The girl on the other side said, “I have your memo in my memory bank.”
“You, a lady robot?”
“Yes, sir. I didn’t call you back because there hasn’t been any report of any accident whatsoever.”
“I see. No report made by anyone?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s strange. The robot driven hover car accident took place two or three kilometers south of Ved Nagar sector 786.”
“There’s a car overturned by the side of the road down there. However, that isn’t a hover car. That’s a normal ground car. We investigated and found out the car belonged to Shékħzādī Imāmzādī Al Ħumayrah Al Qāzī . The Ummil Åālmīn’s staff say the car was stolen a couple of days ago.”
“Did the staff report it to the police at the time?”
“I’ve personally checked that. There isn’t any record of it. Ummil Åālmīn Shékħzādī Imāmzādī Al Ħumayrah Al Qāzī doesn’t seem particularly interested in it. She left it all on her staff. There will be a repair bill on the car and the cost of towing it to a garage. Ummil Åālmīn Shékħzādī Imāmzādī Al Ħumayrah Al Qāzī doesn’t seem to think the car is worth that much. After all, she is the second multi zillionaire after your very self in the entire multiverse.”
I didn’t say anything, only kept listening to the lady robot police officer.
“It is pretty hard for the police to get anything out of an Ummil Åālmīn or her staff whenever they want to be evasive. They just go around in circles with the police in the center. The police can’t get any nearer to what they are trying to find out.”
I smiled bitterly.
‘As nar nahīn janméu jag māhīn,
Prabhutā pāi jāhi mad nahīn.’
‘There isn’t any man born in the multiverse that gets the power, yet s/he isn’t arrogant.’
— Shrī Rāmcharit Mānas.
Nevertheless, what the hell could I do?
It was a Democratic Scientific System working in the entire multiverse ultimately.
My live in relationship partners had their own freedom of behavior.
Sometimes some of them exercised even more powers than even I did myself.
I resented it.
Nevertheless, I could only advise them which they were completely capable to reject outright if they didn’t agree with me.*
The girl on the other side asked,
“Sir, were you a witness to the accident?”
“I saw it,” I said. “A big limousine sideswiped the car and sent it off the road out of control. An extremely beautiful young woman was driving it. I couldn’t get her as much as I can identify her properly. Yet, I have an impression that she was Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm. Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm is my live in relationship partner now. I have investigated her personally. She denies it vehemently and claims that it’s too a part of the frame up to discredit her elder cousin, Shékħ Al Zabīr, from his throne.”*
Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm was sucking my Penis passionately, teasing me impishly.
“Sālī,” I said acidly somewhat, “you are sucking me now for almost half an hour.”
“So what!” Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm smiled cunningly, “I can suck you still more. Remember I am not sixty-six. You are Sixty Six.”
“I smiled humiliating her.
“If I penetrate you all your youth would vanish.”
“Your Uncut Hindu Penis is ever more ravenous than even us ever-ravenous-for-you beautiful young Musalmān houseladies. I can’t understand how your communal Hindu lust for us Panjvaqtah Namāzī beautiful ardent Musalmān houseladies is never satisfied despite you are fucking us for almost infinite years.”
“My communal Hindu lust for you Panjvaqtah Namāzī beautiful ardent Musalmān houseladies?” I smiled teasing her.
“Isn’t it?”
“You know it better yourself, Assalāt Ibrāhīm. You loved Shékħ Al Zabīr. Yet your Sheikħ Ammī, Shékħzādī Kħālidah Umm Mūsā, explained to you that it would be wiser if you seduce me. Why? Shékħzādī Al Hudā Al Aħmad Al Jabīr herself had gone to Ved Nagar to bring me here to protect Shékħ Al Zabīr.”
“What do you want to say?” Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm was suddenly all-alert.
“Shékħzādī Al Sābirah Al Wahāb is more dangerous in the eyes of Sheikħ Ammī, Shékħzādī Kħālidah Umm Mūsā than in the eyes of Shékħzādī Al Hudā Al Aħmad Al Jabīr herself. Shékħzādī Al Hudā Al Aħmad Al Jabīr is cunning yet she is still young.”
“And you don’t like us Musalmān houseladies young.” Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm said sarcastically, “You love to enjoy sex with us more mature ones.”
“You are forgetting something you said Sheikħ Ammī, Shékħzādī Kħālidah Umm Mūsā, told you never to forget.” I made her to lie on her nude back.
“What?” Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm put both of her beautiful nude legs on my shoulders taking me between them.
She herself took my ever-fierce Uncut Hindu Cock between her right thumb and forefinger and positioned it between her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips.
I pushed gently.
Yet her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal passage was so wet and so slippery that my entire Uncut Hindu Cock vanished into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy without any resistance at all.
She winked at me.
“You are again imprisoned. You naughty Hindu old scoundrel. We Musalmān houseladies would never allow you freedom, understand?”
“Sālī,” I smiled triumphantly, keeping myself deepest inside Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm, “who the hell wants freedom? I want eternal imprisonment there.”
“When I saw you in the court, I never imagined you are so sexiest.”
“Did you ever have sex with Shékħ Al Zabīr?”
“He is a damn fool in this matter. The Musalmīn have faith in Ħazrat Yūsuf ålayhissalām, not in your Lord Kr’shñ ever.”
“I know.”
“That’s why the Musalmīn are better in morals while the Hindus are better in sex.”
I suddenly asked.
“Whom do you yourself like more? Shékħ Al Zabīr or me?”*
Chapter 19
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 9
Posted: August 21, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Åbd Al Wahāb, Al Jihād fil Islām, Al Qahar Arraħīm Al Wahāb, Al Qamar Annisā’, Al Sidrah Al Aħmad, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan, al-Qaeda, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Ashŧmaithunam, Ayman al Zawahiri, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Al Wahāb, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Infinite BrāhmKalp, Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement, Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah, Las Vegas, life sciences, Love Jihad, Modern Democratic Årabia, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Narendr Modi, Osama bin Laden, Ram Chandr Shuklā, Rām Chandr Shukl, Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd, Saifunnisā Al Islam, Sanā Kr’tyug, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Tauħīd Muħammad Ħasan, Vivāhāshŧakam, yogi adityanath, Yogi Bhāskarnāth, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah Leave a commentChapter 9
Saifunnisā Al Islam
Durgesh Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had been the Director of Security through all Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven Movements.
It would certainly have been a backbreaking job if I were not fucking her constantly.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan enjoyed my Uncut Hindu Lund continuously constantly into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot nonstop.
She never knew she needed sex that much with me.
Today almost entire Creations were against Pseudo Musalmīn terrorism.
They were killing the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists everywhere openly attacking them.
Since Narendr Modi had become the Prime Minister of India, not even a single Pseudo Musalmān terrorist had succeeded in entering India.
Everyone of them was either killed on the spot when trying to enter, or worse.
S/he was arrested alive.
“Sit down, Saifunnisā.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said, “Let’s keep this on a friendly basis if we can.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam hooked both her thumbs in her sash and remained standing.
“Friendly? With a traitor?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had anticipated it.
She pushed her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my nude lap, swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and smiled patronizing Saifunnisā Al Islam.
“With an accused traitor.” She corrected her, “You are a Councilwoman. I’m sure you understand the wide difference between a traitor and an accused traitor. Don’t you?”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam watched Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan cunningly.
“Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, you know very well that you haven’t come to the point where accusation, even by the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, herself, is the equivalent of conviction. I trust you never do. Your job is to clear me if you can. You would do so now while no harm is done, except to my pride, rather than be forced to make it all a matter of a public trial. You hope I’m with you in this.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan understood the situation perfectly she was dealing with.
Saifunnisā Al Islam wasn’t an ordinary Councilwoman of the House of the People of Modern Democratic Årabia.
She was a learned young woman.
It was not easy to deal with Saifunnisā Al Islam.
Yet, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself wasn’t an ordinary young woman.
She wasn’t Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, because she was the elder sister of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had earned this prestigious post through her own hard work and achievements.
“Let’s not bother with ingratiation. You asked for it.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said politely, yet authoritatively, “You had witnessed what happened even to Imām Muħammad Ħasan when he challenged the authority of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Yet you did the same. Definitely you never expected you could get away with it.”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled ironically.
“I thought we are in a democratic system.”
“Sure,” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself said ironically too, “But you are against it. You want to fail our democracy.”
“That’s the accusation, I think.” Saifunnisā Al Islam again ridiculed Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“You still think you can face the charges of treason against you?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously.
“I want to expose you all. No democracy is being practiced here. If it were democracy here really, you were not establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah here.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled at Saifunnisā Al Islam ridiculing her.
“I hope you are intelligent enough to understand neither you have majority here, nor your supporters. The majority of Modern Democratic Årabia is not with you.”
“That’s what you think,”
“That’s what I know.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled triumphantly confidently, “Even your Love Jihad has failed everywhere miserably. Each and every attempt of it is immediately detected everywhere before even a single success in it. The Pseudo Musalmīn culprits are losing their manhood forever as soon as they even imagine even to deceive the innocent non-Muslim girls. It’s not old times now. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp, Sanā Kr’tyug. The sooner you understand the sooner you can save the manhood of the remaining Pseudo Musalmīn.”
“We refuse to let Yogi Āditýnāth be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said determinedly.
“Who are you to decide who will be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh? Are you a citizen of India?” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at Saifunnisā Al Islam contemptuously.*
Yogi Bhāskarnāth was unable to understand how he could get rid of the ever-crazy Mujāhidāt that were having sex with him constantly on this or that pretext.
They just made him lie on his back undressed and straddled him one by one, fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth despite his every effort to avoid it.
“We would never let you complete your Celibacy Practice, your so called Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Al Jihad fil Islam said fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth aggressively, “We don’t want another Yogi Āditýnāth.”
Yogi Bhāskarnāth could not do anything, except to lie there on his back and let them fuck him.
He understood actually, their Pseudo Musalmīn terrorist husbands had either lost their manhood completely, or losing their interest in sexual intercourse itself.
“Young ladies, you never understood our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Yogi Bhāskarnāth said, “You don’t want to let us become another Yogi Āditýnāth. But our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, doesn’t require other persons cooperation too. Even if you keep fucking us endlessly, our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, would never be discontinued. We aren’t having sex with you. You are having sex with us. We aren’t responsible for what you are doing with us. Our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, is discontinued only when we ourselves have sex with you.”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“We aren’t fighting for democracy in Uttar Pradesh, India. We are fighting for Islam.”
“And Islam is against democracy?”
“Democracy isn’t Islam.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said curtly.
“On the contrary, Islam revived democracy in then Årab.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. “Al Qur’an Al Karīm never claimed Islam was a new religion. It was the same religion Hindus call Hinduism, Hindutv, adjusted properly to suit then Årab environment.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously, “You love Hindu Lund entirely unashamed of you. That’s why you are resorting to these un-Islamic philosophies.”
“And you don’t love Hindu Lund?”
“Never. I hate Hindu Lund instead, on the quite contrary.”
“And that’s why you yourself went to Durgesh and fucked him.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan laughed sarcastically.
“That’s not the same thing you do.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said scornfully, “We need money for our Al Jihad fil Islam. Durgesh is the utmost richest multi zillionaire of our times. He is a moron to think he can change us from an Islamist into a so-called humanist. We challenge him to do it with us. The fact is Durgesh isn’t changing us. Instead, the more Durgesh fuck us Mujāhidāt the more he is converted to Islam.”
“And that’s why you so called Mujāhidāt keep fucking Durgesh?”
“Why shouldn’t we?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled.
“I never said you shouldn’t. I said what you are doing is actually itself establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Have you ever realized it?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled cunningly.
“Keep living in fools’ paradise as much as you please, Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia. We aren’t doing any such thing. Nevertheless, if you really think we are too establishing your dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, why the hell you call me a traitor? Are we not doing the same thing you are doing either knowingly or unknowingly?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at me complaining.
“Durgesh, you’ve fucked these so called Mujāhidāt too much. They are capable to argue rationally too.”
I smiled cunningly.
“Well, you can’t blame me, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan, they are too beautiful to resist. Aren’t they?”
“Damn you, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam and I both laughed.
I looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan gravely.
“Don’t blame me for it ever, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan. I’d never stop it. Whatsoever the reason a woman has, or says to have, for having sex with me, the fact that she is having sex with me makes me her husband according to my morals.”
“Nonsense,”
“We Hindus believe in Vivāhāshŧakam and Ashŧmaithunam. I think it’s more humane to believe in these two principles. If you don’t agree with me, try to convince me why isn’t it so.”*
Shankar Mahāpralayankar rose from the blackjack table, smiled all round, threw the pretty croupier a large tip, and pocketed twenty gold five hundred dollar chips.
Ten thousand dollars.
Not bad for a fast half hour’s work while Fātimah Al Wahāb was sucking his Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh never appreciated Shankar Mahāpralayankar for humiliating Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists even.
Let him not.
The humiliation of Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists pleased Shankar Mahāpralayankar always.
Fātimah Al Wahāb was still sucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund shamefully.
She couldn’t do anything.
Numerous females, houseladies of members of al-Qaeda, were forced to suck Uncut Hindu Lund publicly, not of Shankar Mahāpralayankar only, but other Hindus’ as well.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and his followers were challenging not only Ayman al Zawahiri , his entire al-Qaeda instead.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar surveyed the crowded Las Vegas casino.
His dark eyes flicked back and forth amongst the assembled company.
The beautiful Musalmān houseladies in floral dresses exhibited surprising strength as their beautiful arms pulled firmly on the slot machines.
Florid faced couples, Hindu male Musalmān female strictly, none else, filled with excitement, picked up a fast eighty or ninety dollars at the roulette tables.
Strolling beautiful Musalmān houseladies of the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, blank eyes alert for the big spender Hindus.
The big spender Hindus themselves, in polyester leisure suits, screeched away in Middle American accents at the crap tables.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
Las Vegas always amused him.
They always cooperated whenever Shankar Mahāpralayankar wanted to humiliate Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists publicly in this way.
The hustle and the bustle.
The win and the loss.
The total fantasy of it all.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar loved to fuck Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists right from the beginning.
As soon as he was capable of having sex, he enjoyed it with them too much.
“Stop it!”
“Never!” Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled cunningly even then.
“Stop it, I say,”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar said notoriously, smiling.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no. I mean it, No!”
“Why not, you like it you say.”
“I don’t, I don’t. Oh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Ooooooh!”
It was always the same story.
No, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t do it, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t touch me there, Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Yet, the story always had a happy ending.
As soon as Shankar Mahāpralayankar found the magic button, the Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists stopped protesting.
The beautiful nude Musalmān legs opened in invitation and they hardly noticed when Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s immensely experienced fie upstanding Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated their Musalmān Choots
Shankar Mahāpralayankar, the Muslimātchod Hindu, was his nickname.
It was true that after Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the second ever successful young Hindu man that had screwed more Musalmān ass than anyone else, including Musalmīn even.
Even the Musalmīn were jealous of Durgesh and Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled when the Pseudo Musalmīn praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was the first Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked in his ass when he praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
“Sālé, praising your Hindu father? Or your Hindu Jījū? Durgesh is fucking both your Ammīs and sisters now.”
Al Åbd Al Wahāb cried helplessly.
“Because you forced me to request Durgesh to fuck them. Otherwise, you and your ever communal Hindus had molested them. Neither I had another option, nor did my Musalmān houseladies.”
“How do you feel when you lick the optimum fucked Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of your beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Al Åbd Al Wahāb?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar pushed his Uncut Hindu Lund again entirely into the ever feminine Musalmān ass of Al Åbd Al Wahāb.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was feeling himself immensely humiliated.
Yet he couldn’t do anything.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was more powerful and he had every evidence against him.
If the police had those evidences, Al Åbd Al Wahāb was certainly hanged till his death.
He never wanted to die.
What’s wrong even if Durgesh is fucking his entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies?
Wasn’t that they themselves wanted to?
Abbū, Al Qahar Arraħīm Al Wahāb, was a devoted Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān.
Yet, what happened with him?
Osama bin Laden was killed but Abbū was captured by Shankar Mahāpralayankar, himself.
Osama bin Laden was born on 10 March 1957.
Abbū was entire ten years older than Osama bin Laden.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar deliberately captured Abbū alive and blackmailed his family and followers to immense degradation and humiliations.
It was still continued.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no!”
“Aw, c’mon, Al Qamar Annisā’. Let me just put it there, just next to you. I won’t put it in, I promise I won’t!”
“But Shankar Mahāpralayankar!”
“There. I told you. Doesn’t that feel good?”
“Mmmm, I guess. But don’t move, promise you won’t move.”
“’Course not. I just want to be next to you, that’s all.” Gently Shankar Mahāpralayankar eased his Hindu prick inside her Musalmān Cunt.
“What are you doing?” Al Qamar Annisā’ squealed.
“Just getting comfortable,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar replied, easing his hand down between her legs, feeing for the magic button.
Al Qamar Annisā’ gave a little sigh.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar had found it.
“Feel nice?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar inquired solicitously.
“Oh, yes, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Oh, yes.”
All set.
No problem.
Keeping his fingers on target, Shankar Mahāpralayankar started to screw Al Qamar Annisā’ properly.*
Al Qamar Annisā’ didn’t object.
Instead, she smiled cunningly.
She wasn’t stupid enough not to know what Shankar Mahāpralayankar was doing.
After all Al Qamar Annisā’ was a mujāhidah of al-Qaeda.
She understood more than even the other members of al-Qaeda suspected.
She knew it wasn’t any Al Jihad fil Islam at all.
It was an outright Årab Imperialism.
If it was really an Al Jihad fil Islam, why the Islamic State of Al Baghdadi is trying to defeat al-Qaeda in Pseudo Islamic terrorism?
Right from the moment Ħazrat Muåāwiyah started to send strategic news of Al Jihad fil Islam to the Kħalīfah, Caliph in power those days, the downfall of Islam and the rise of Pseudo Islam had started.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported anything wrong.
He reported actually what Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
Yet, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported in detail what positive Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
He reported in quite detail what wrong Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd ever did.
It was never a wrong reporting.
Yet, it was never an entirely unbiased reporting too.
It was a very clever, very shrewd strategic reporting that ultimately resulted in the removal of Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar knew how to please a woman that was so devoted to her cause.
He had been taught by Durgesh himself how to find the magic button.
It was a lesson Shankar Mahāpralayankar was forever grateful for.
It gave him an edge over the other Hindus.
Right from the beginning of the era when Ħazrat Muåāwiyah was coming into power, it was a game of cats, dogs and rats, whether strategic or entirely unashamed open.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah himself never promoted the persons who were involved in kidnapping and selling of beautiful Musalmān houseladies to Hindus.
The Hindus were living in India that was called Golden Bird then.*
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of himself for being at least second Hindu the beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists were crazy of.
Durgesh was the first, no doubt.
Nevertheless, his morals were somewhat different from Durgesh.
Even numerous of his Hindu friends and followers thought all there was to screwing beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists was a fast shove.
After Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar also knew it was just as important to make them like it, want it, and even beg for it.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of Al Qamar Annisā’ that she laughed when her family disowned her.
“I sympathize with my family persons.” Al Qamar Annisā’ smiled now fucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar herself.
“As I do?” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled proudly with utmost conference in herself.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed.
“The reasons are different, Al Sidrah Al Aħmad.”
“I know.” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled bravely, “You too are against my life style. Nevertheless, I’m neither discouraged nor even a bit ashamed of it.”
Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl was fucking Al Sidrah Al Aħmad now.
Despite the fact that Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl never appreciated the life style Al Sidrah Al Aħmad had adopted he believed in the freedom for everyone, including Al Sidrah Al Aħmad too, of course.
He had read the Renouncement of Al Sidrah Al Aħmad by her family ultimately.
Unlike Al Qamar Annisā’ Al Sidrah Al Aħmad’s family didn’t disown her immediately.
Her family gave her even more than fifty years to return to the basic moral values of Islam.
Yet Al Sidrah Al Aħmad never cared for it.
She continued to live her ever-irresponsible life towards her family reputation.
Al Sidrah Al Aħmad continued to fuck every Hindu male she came in contact even if he was a peon, driver, servant, whatsoever the hell that Hindu male was.
Chapter 10
——————————————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 6
Posted: July 15, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Friedrich Engels, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kħadījah Muħammad, life sciences, Lord Parashurām, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Kamāluddīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, Siddīq-e-Åāzam, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, The Origin of Family Private Property and the State, Yazīd malåūn Leave a commentChapter 6
Durgesh Åāliyah Kamāluddīn
Mecca Fataħ
Durgesh Al Jihad Al Vaqār
He smiled.
“Durgesh never doubted that it was the very thing we ourselves wanted?”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn too smiled cunningly at her Musalmān husband.
“You have yourself watched the entire video in trimension, haven’t you? Decide yourself.”
“He still thinks our movement ‘Al Jihad fil Durgesh fī sabīlillah’ is only what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thinks it is?”
“Muħammad Kamāluddīn, You yourself have entered numerous affirmations and transmissions in between our videos and spread them everywhere as our porn videos. Haven’t we gotten positive results always?”
“Sure, if it weren’t so, we would have already abandoned this utopian scheme you Musalmān houseladies proposed.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always right, I told you.” Åāliyah Kamāluddīn said triumphantly enthusiastically, “Our code Mecca Fataħ has worked with Al Ghausiyah Al Imtiyāz and it’s still working with us. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said it starts the time cycle of Mecca Fataħ once we announce it with Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Cock inside us.”
“Is it too Bījāxar now?” Muħammad Kamāluddīn smiled triumphantly at his extremely beautiful wife.
“There, my dear husband, I’m sure, I can’t help you. I don’t know the Ultimate Science behind it they call Eīshān Vigyān.”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was still lying on her back.
Muħammad Kamāluddīn, her husband was between her legs.
He was eating her dazzling Musalmān Cunt.
Muħammad Kamāluddīn couldn’t deny since Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was fucking Durgesh, her already dazzling Musalmān beauty was becoming more and more dazzling.
He didn’t know his aids was being cured or not.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan advised him to lick his Musalmān houseladies’ Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunts and even their Musalmān ass after Durgesh fucked them.
“The entire Pseudo Musalmān terrorism is immensely against Islam, Muħammad Kamāluddīn.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had put her right palm on his head, “See yourself. Your entire mujāhidīn are now suffering from aids, cancer etc. ever incurable diseases. Only their own Musalmān houseladies can cure them if they fuck Durgesh and let them lick their orgasmic secretions from right their sexual organs.”*
I asked Al Jihad Al Vaqār again,
“What did Al Nādir Al Ghāzī do then?”
“He went down to Mexico and had a talk with a lawyer. The Mexican lawyer advised Al Nādir Al Ghāzī he could establish a residence by some sort of proxy. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī says the Mexican lawyer made it sound pretty good. He got a Mexican divorce and we married afterwards in Mexico. We followed a procedure worked out by the Mexican lawyer. She seemed not only to know her business but also she was the best in this game.”
“Game?”
“What else is it?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār asked me contemptuously, “They have made marriage difficult and Live in Relationship easy. The damn fools are harming the very society they are there to protect.”
I agreed with her.
Since Friedrich Engels had written ‘The Origin of Family Private Property and the State’, the shallow thinkers were crazy to destroy family to destroy Private Property.
They forget that Communism has failed miserably politically everywhere only within Seventy-Two years of its coming into power.
In the ever-erroneous enthusiasm of destroying Private Property, Friedrich Engels had sown the seeds of destruction of family.
Friedrich Engels never understood the unique and irreplaceable function of family in human life.
Friedrich Engels’ theory that the humankind must destroy family to destroy Private Property to get rid of Corruption was only theory when it was proposed in 1884 AD.
It wasn’t practiced until then anywhere.
The people of the entire globe then, were so fed up of corruption dominant then everywhere that they agreed even to destroy the family to get rid of corruption.
However, it was the blunder actually they committed to get rid of their mistake.
They never realized it then and a lot of people don’t realize it even now, after more than a century even.
I asked gravely.
“And then what happened?”
“Well,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is worried about Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. In his opinion, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has suddenly turned bitter.”
“Suddenly?”
“That’s right. The damn fool still doesn’t understand there isn’t anything suddenly as far as Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is concerned. She never loved Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. She was after his money ab initio.”
I smiled.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is one of those self-deceiving men that love to live in dreams ever. They are always afraid of the cold and hard facts if they don’t support their ever utopian dreams.”
“But it’s immensely harmful to them, Durgesh.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār shuddered.
“I agree with you. Yet, most of us mankind are crazy to get feminine appreciation.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled cunningly.
“Are you telling me? We womankind understand it very well and immensely use it to get what we want from mankind.”
“The stupids like Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never understand it. Moreover, if even they realize it ever, they adamantly refuse to accept it. They deliberately deceive themselves that even if it’s right, they are an exception.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was horrified.
“Allah, you understand it too, Durgesh? Now, I think I know why no woman could dominate you ever. You, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, you are the ever greatest psychologist I’ve ever met in my life.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched me scrutinizing.
Yet, she continued to say,
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb wants a property settlement. She wants things that would completely ruin Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
“That’s what Al Nādir Al Ghāzī should have thought of before marrying her.” I said curtly, “The women like Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb have always done the same things to their foolish husband in the entire history. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never took any lesson from history.”
“He thinks the money is everything. He never cared what a woman can do if he can have someone to defeat her with the power of his money.”
“That’s why Al Nādir Al Ghāzī gave Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb his mine in New Mexico and his media empire in Ved Nagar to you?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
“What do you think?”
“What do you want from me?”
“The media empire Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has given to me is still not completely transferred to my name legally. The process is taking more time than I’d anticipated.”
“So?”
“I want you to expedite the process and protect my interests in the meantime.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled at me seductively, “I’m one of your countless Musalmān lady friends that enjoy even the ultimate intimacy with you. Even if I’m not your Live in Relationship partner in your opinion…”
“That doesn’t make any difference. You said I’ve impregnated you,”
“There,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said gravely, “You promised me he’d be my son.”
“I won’t snatch away him from you ever, never worry. I’ve never snatched away any son of mine from his mother whether she lives with me, single, or with her duly married husband. Countless husbands think they have fathered their son from their duly married wives while actually I’ve fathered them. I never broke their illusion.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār put her arms around my neck.
Then she kissed me full on my lips.
“You don’t know what you’ve given to me. I can lick your feet for that proudly forever.”
“Nonsense, we are friends as you say, and friends are equal.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār pushed me back.
I managed to fall on my back safely.
Immensely indebted, Al Jihad Al Vaqār undressed me herself.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has married again. He thinks Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb would never destroy him. I would never destroy him. He never imposed himself on either of us. He’d never be deceived. I hoped his Mexican divorce with Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb would be good. I wanted to find out something about it.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār undressed herself too.
“I’ll look into his Mexican divorce. Where is Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s first wife?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār straddled me.
She positioned my Uncut Hindu Cock between her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips and smiled at me mischievously.
“Want to fuck Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb too?”
“Why not? If she lets me.”
“She is here, in the city somewhere, but where? I don’t know. She telephoned Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from a pay station.”
“Pay station? Not from her mobile even?”
“She isn’t a fool enough to give Al Nādir Al Ghāzī any clue to her address.”
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has a lawyer?”
“She says she’s going to handle the property settlement by herself.”
“Doesn’t want to pay a lawyer’s fee?” I smiled.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was waiting for me to lift my waist up and enter her.
I didn’t.
I myself was enjoying the game of mutual teasing now.
“No,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said having my Uncut Hindu Cock between her labial lips only, not even rubbing it there, “she’s smarter than any two lawyers in the country. Present company excepted, of course. The Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bitch is damned clever. She was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s secretary before he married her. Moreover, believe me, my dear Hindu ‘husband’ of mine, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is one of those extraordinary actually smart women that certainly know their way around when it comes to business—an actually smart woman.”
“I see. By the way, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s present wife—was she down at your office last night?”
“What?”
“I thought I saw a light up there,” I informed her gravely, “I was looking out of the window.”*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār pushed herself on my rock hard Uncut Hindu Cock.
It entered her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt.
“I noticed light striking the upper landing of the fire escape. Your office is directly above mine.”
“That’s right.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “However, that isn’t anything unusual. My office is a media empire office. It’s open twenty four hours.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was engrossed in the document.
I advanced to the secretaire.
“I have perused the entire document once again, Durgesh.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī said gravely.
“I’ve too,” I said, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī hasn’t actually given his media empire to Al Jihad Al Vaqār. He has actually played a very clever game. He knew he couldn’t do what is required there. He got rid of it.”
“And challenged us in a way to do something to save it for Al Jihad Al Vaqār. He thinks even we can’t do anything.”
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb knows it?”
“I don’t think so. If she had she wouldn’t have playing the game she is playing now.”
“I love challenges, Al Hudā,”
“Are you telling me?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled, “I understand you now more. You never unsucceeded.”
“Until now,” I corrected her.
“Perhaps I have more faith in you than even you do have in yourself. We’ll again succeed, inshā’Allāh. I refuse to accept your correction.”
I hugged her, kissed and circled my arm around her slim waist.
“Thanks for boosting my morale.”
“You never did for yourself. You always did it for us Musalmān womankind. Didn’t you?”
I smiled patiently.
“Don’t get me wrong, Al Hudā. Womankind, yes. Yet, not always for Musalmān womankind only. I had to do it for my Brāhmañ wives too. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never cares to refer it in her speeches and talks. She tactically ignores it, to imply that I love you Musalmān Beauties only exclusively. Yet, it isn’t a fact, to be true exactly.”
“Nevertheless, mostly for us Musalmān Beauties, if not exclusively?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled looking at me anticipating my response in the affirmative.
I smiled.
“My Brāhmañ in laws are not as bad as my Musalmān in laws. The Brāhmañs were never militarized as Yazīd Malåūn and his bandit Mullahs and Maulavīs militarized the entire Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“The Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs are luckier than us. Yet, how is it possible that Brāhmañs were never militarized if Lord Bhagvān Parashu Rām did his famous military campaigns against the Xatriýs, the descendants of the Bachhalyās twenty one times in twenty one Kalps, eras?”
“You are right. Sorry I forgot that.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
“You accept your mistakes immediately, don’t you?”
“The sooner we accept our mistake the sooner we are improved.”
“I’d try to remember it. I never admit I’m mistaken if I can manage it ever.”
“That’s nothing individual. Most of the humankind do it and delay their progress in evolution.”
“Allah,”
“That’s right,”
I walked toward the elaborately carved French armchair resting next to the Noor Jahān fruitwood game table.
I settled in the armchair.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched me admiringly yet with a concern somewhat.
She didn’t try to come to me and sit on my lap as she always did.
“Worrying?” I smiled.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is playing some deep game we don’t even have any suspicion of,”
“Let him,”
“I never doubt your competence. Nevertheless, I’m not as optimistic of human beings as you are, Durgesh. Not even Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle is. He too criticizes you ruthlessly when he is filled against you to the brim,”
I smiled.
“I respect him.”
“You both have more faith in each other than in yourselves. The more Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle criticizes you openly for your ever impractical utopian humanity, the more his faith in you and your immense humanity increases.”
“He is an angel humanified.”
“Allah, you and your appreciation of him. No doubt Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Nafīsah Salmān Kħālājān can’t bear it ever.”
I laughed.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī immediately entered in the subject.
“His Abbū was very much cautious when he instructed me to prepare the testament. He wanted you but you were too busy in defending the life of some framed ones that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s Abbū himself couldn’t insist on you any more. He had to compromise on me on your assurance that you promise to guide me always if there come any circumstances that would obstacle the fulfillment of his wishes.”
I didn’t say anything.
She was only forewording what I wanted to discuss with her.
Originally, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was one of my countless Salhajs, the countless Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives of the brothers of my Musalmān Live in Relationship partners.
Like most of them, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī didn’t have any complaints against her husband.
Yet, our companionship of most hours did not let her not to notice the unique attributes I had more than his own husband.
She fought her best not to fall in love with me as the other women did.
Nevertheless, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī couldn’t succeed.
She confided with her husband.
“I have to confess you something, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad.”
“I think I know,”
“What?”
“I’m not blind, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.”
“Sorry, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad. I failed to be your ever faithful wife.”
“I don’t think so,”
“What?”
“If you were not faithful to me, you could have surrendered to your heart and emotions already before discussing it with me. I don’t blame you.”
“Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad,”
“That’s what I said when we decided to come here.”
“Sorry, I thought Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī were feeling herself lonely and I hadn’t any confidence on Kħadījah Muħammad.”
“Do you want divorce?”
“That’s the problem I want to discuss with you.”
“What do you propose about our daughters? Sorry, even if I prepare myself to separate from you, I am unable to imagine even how I can live without my children.”
“That’s the problem with me too.”
“Our eldest daughter is only ten years old now. The second one seven, the third is five, the fourth is two years only. She needs you very much.”
“They all need me. I can’t do anything irresponsible ever that affects their development adversely. They need both the mother and father for their proper psychological development.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī controlled herself ultimately.
“Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, left him the bulk of his estate. He provided a trust for his daughters, granddaughters and his entire Musalmān houseladies related to him in any way. He gave the title to one of his seven hundred eighty six homes in various Islamic and other countries, to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s stepmother, Al Saåādat Al Mujāhid. Of his public holdings, the real estate wonder owned half the stock that he passed to his son, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Al Saåādat Al Mujāhid, of course, owned the other half always.”
I didn’t say anything.
I let Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī brief me.
I didn’t tell her that I myself had perused the entire document carefully before starting to discuss it with her.
I wanted to listen to her own version of the gist of the testament.
The second opinion always eliminated most of the possibilities of the individual mistakes.
That’s why the Democracy is always preferred on Autocracy.
No dictatorship ever as succeeded in the entire history of humankind as Democracy.
That’s why India has such a long history successfully while the other cultures have kept to rise and collapse in their due course.
India is famous for its Gañs, democratic states, Panchāyats.
The Rudrgañ even in the ancient times.
Islam, the last version of Vedic Monotheist Hinduism, is also famous for its Saħābiyāt, Saħābah and the fact that Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam never announced his replacement in the administration.
The Ummat-e-Muslimah decided her leader, Siddīq-e-Åāzam razī Allāhu Tålā ånahu.
“The other seven hundred eighty five homes went to Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s sisters, daughters and his other Musalmān houseladies. There were some token bequests. Mainly, minor shares in the TV channels, magazines and syndicate—to some of the old timers who have been in his employ for years. A dozen bequests to various distant relatives.”
“Yet, the rest to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.” I smiled, “The ranches—”
“Just about everything is Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s. The mines in Ved Nagar, Utah and Nevada. Oil wells in Rajasthan India, in Oklahoma and Texas. The chain of markets in Ved Nagar. The Ved Nagar real estate. The Ved Nagar merchant ships. The art works, except for a few he left to the Ved Nagar Museum.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī chuckled mischievously.
“Why the chuckle?” I myself smiled impishly.
“Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled naughtily, “Even Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, the Real Estate Wonder, could not mention her in his will.”
Chapter 7
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Durgesh Obsession: 4
Posted: June 15, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, Al Saåīd Al Wahāb, Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Indian democratic political revolution, life sciences, Musalmān houseladies Brigade, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentChapter 4
Durgesh Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb
Durgesh Al Tayyabah Al İmrān
Al Saåīd Al Wahāb
Durgesh Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah
Al Saåīd Al Wahāb had a large contract arise out of state.
It required him to spend the next 8-weeks at minimum 1500 miles away.
While all was addressed, he felt bad that he would not be available for the weeks before I had to leave.
“Sorry, Durgesh, I know you come here for me, yet…”
“Hey, Sālé Miyān, Al Saåīd Al Wahāb, you are quite mistaken. I never came here for you. Actually your Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies are so beautiful that being a Hindu I can never resist their exquisite feminine charms.”
Al Saåīd Al Wahāb’s eyes were suddenly full of immense gratitude, immense indebtedness and consequent tears.
“Please, take care of them. They are crazy for you. The ever rotten Western Culture has rotted their character worst. Those who are unmarried, hate immensely to marry anyone. Those who are married want to cuckold their ever moral Musalmān husbands to themselves and you. Every Musalmān family is suffering from this worst family sex crisis now. Our Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān womankind hate even to listen to us.”
He hugged me helplessly, put his helpless head on my shoulder as if he wasn’t a grown up man at all, a child instead, and wept.
“Take it easy.” I assured him, patting him on his back, “I am here. You have called me for them. Forget them now. This was never your field. You are ever so pious that even at our earliest childhood when you found your elder sister lost her head to seduce you you rushed to me to help you.”
“It was entirely Ammī’s fault. Bājī saw Ammījān straddling on you shamelessly, entirely nude, and fucking you fiercely.”
“Al Saåīd Al Wahāb, I always differed with you in the matter. We both were eighteen then. Your Ammī was thirty six only. Your Abbū never understood her. He was too busy in his business, in making money, visting abroad every now and then for months even…”
“You always favor my Ammī, Durgesh, but I could never understand why you? You were half her age, as if a son to her yourself.”
“Al Saåīd Al Wahāb,” I said cruelly, “Your over devotion to piety and sanctity had never allowed you to understand the cold and hard cruel facts of life. Your Ammī was suffering from immense depression. Your Abbū had neglected her so much that she thought she wasn’t beautiful at all. I found her trying to commit suicide.”
“I know. You have told me that always, but why Durgesh, why? Even if Abbū was neglecting her she could have divorced him. Couldn’t she?”
“In that case, she had to leave her children too. It’s not as easy practically as you think it’s rationally.”
“Consequently Ammī undressed herself, undressed you and straddled you fucking you madly while you were as if her son yourself?”*
I slapped Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah.
I hadn’t another option to bring her to her senses.
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah was dumbfounded.
She couldn’t believe I could even slap her ever.
I was her son’s, Al Saåīd Al Wahāb’s friend, as if a son to her myself.
“You…you slapped me?” Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah was startled.
“Yes, I slapped you.” I said to her curtly, “That’s what you needed now.”
“How dare you? You…”
“I’ll slap you more if you don’t come to your senses. What the hell were you doing? Killng yourself?”
“Durgesh, my son, you can’t understand. Leave me alone, plase.”
“I won’t. You are vulnerable now. You aren’t to be left alone.”
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah laughed ironically.
“Don’t try to act as my husband. You are my son’s friend only.”
“If it needs me to be your husband to protect you from yourself, well, let me be your husband as well.”
“What? Are you crazy? You would be my husband? You Just Eighteen Just Adult Hindu friend of my stupid son, you would be my husband? Do you even know what you have to do for it? Can you give me what a husband gives to his wife? I need it badly. My never understanding Musalmān husband has gone abroad once again even without touching me. I’m burning like hell between my legs. Oh, what’s the use? Get out. Leave me alone. You can’t understand even.”
“I do understand.” I said gravely.
“What?”
“Divorce him.”
“And leave my children forever? Can I survive without my children ever? And it’s not easy for a mother of six children to get another competent husband at her thirty six.”
“Well, you never look thirty six, neither a mother of six children.”
“Durgesh, don’t flatter me, I say. Leave me alone. I know what I look like.”
“What you look like?”
“I look like hell. Horrible.”
“Who the hell told you it?”
“My own husband. Need any more evidence of my further incompetence as a married woman? Now, get out.”
“Ammī, please,”
“Yes, that’s what I am. An Ammī. An Ammī of six children, the eldest being eighteen. Not a beautiful woman anymore.”
“Nonsense,”
“Durgesh, you are flattering me, but I know my true state. My own husband has shown me the mirror.”
“The hell he did.”
“Let me die, Durgesh, please. I can’t bear it anymore. He didn’t even touch me since two complete years. I need it very much. You can’t understand.”
“But I do.”
“Durgesh,”
“Your husband is a liar and impotent. If not previously impotent, he is now. You are still stunning, a dazzling Musalmān houselady. Even…even I’m crazy for you.”
“What?” Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah couldn’t believe it.
Suddenly Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah realized she was still in my adult masculine arms.
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah realized once again that I had an immense erection for her.
It was trying to penetrate her already between her still burning legs.
And Allah, what a penis I had!
It was far bigger, far thicker and far stronger than that of her never interested Musalmān husband.
Was she crazy to believe her ever unjust husband?
Why not let Durgesh fuck her, if Durgesh is so erect for her?
But Durgesh is a Hindu.
Hell, let him.
But Durgesh is even her son’s friend.
So what?
He is himself erect for her.
Isn’t he?
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah suddenly felt immensely proud of her dazzling Musalmān beauty.
Her husband was certainly a liar, damn fool and impotent.
Even a Just Eighteen Just Adult Hindu young man is immensely erect for her.
Okay, Durgesh, you win.
I am ravenous.
You want to change our relationship into a Hindu husband and Musalmān wife?
Not a son and Ammī anymore?
Okay.
Fuck me you Hindu young man, as much as you want to.
Allah, you’ve already cupped my heavy Musalmān buttocks in your Hindu male palms.
You forgot you call me ‘Ammī’.
“Leave me,” Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah whispered, “I won’t suicide now.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Say ‘I promise you, Durgesh, my new young Hindu husband from now on’.” I smiled sweetly into her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes.
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah couldn’t believe her own ears.*
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah had just gotten back from work and wanted to change out of her city clothes before we left.
She was tired and moving a bit slowly.
Teenagers are well known to inhabit an alternate dimension where different rules on the passage of time apply.
After pacing downstairs for several eternal minutes I called out crankily,
“C’mon, Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah, we’re gonna be late!”
Her voice floated down to me, patient as always, “Just a couple minutes, sweetie – I’m almost ready.”
I don’t know what possessed me at that Moment, but Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah’s answer wasn’t satisfactory.
I clomped up the stairs and barged into her bedroom.
Her bare back was turned to me and she was only wearing a pair of plain, high-waisted, pale blue cotton panties.
Her skin was alabaster, without a single blemish and her rounded Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān buttocks were simple perfection, smoothly contoured and flawlessly curved.
The elastic leg holes of her briefs were snugged right into the crease where the back of her thighs met her buttocks, seeming almost to lift and display her excellent Musalmān bottom.
All of this registered in the split second before she began to turn in surprise, a vision tattooed into my memory with a hot needle, dipped in the darkest of inks.
As she turned, reflexively bringing her arms up to cover her breasts, one hand lagged by the slightest of Moments and I saw her nipple.
It was a rosy peak, rising out from the flesh of her breast not like a nubbin, but more of a pink, Hershey’s kiss, ever so slightly larger.
To my eye it was as her back and behind, free of any imperfection.
By the time she finished turning, I smiled.
I wasn’t blushing at all.
Why the hell should have I?
I had saved her life.
Hadn’t I?
Now Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah was mine.
Only mine.
Not even her bloody Musalmān husband’s that left her to commit suicide.
A lot of my blood was rushing somewhere between my legs, very quickly.
It was a good thing that my jersey wasn’t tucked in at the time, as I was suddenly sporting, the strongest, most tingly woodie ever.
Eyes flashing, Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah held her arms tight against herself, not realizing how the pressure of her self-embrace pushed her excellent Musalmān breasts upwards, inadvertently emphasizing her immensely attractive Musalmān cleavage.
My Uncut Hindu Dick got harder.
“Allah, Durgesh!” she shouted in anger. “Don’t you ever knock? How dare you barge into my room like this?”
“Sālī, you forget you are my wife now and I’m your new husband that saved you from committing suicide, Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah,” I smiled bravely.
She fell from her seventh sky at once.
Allah, is the Just Eighteen Just Adult Hindu boy really serious?
“Standing here staring at me is NOT going to speed this process up, young man,” she said acidly. “Now, git!”
Instead of going out, I walked confidently to her.
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah could not believe my audacity.
“Stop!” Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah shouted once more.
I winked at her, took her in my arms once more and kissed her on her lips fiercely.
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah was dumbfounded.
I caressed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān buttocks.
“I’m your husband now, learn to respect me. Understand?”
“L…l…leave me, you brute,”
“Take my Uncut Hindu Lund in your hand as you did when I saved you from committing suicide.”
“That was a mistake, I say.”
“You played with my Uncut Hindu Lund yourself. I never requested you.”
“Yes, but that was a mistake, Durgesh.”
“You kissed my Uncut Hindu Lund yourself, lickd it and sucked. Didn’t you?”
“Sorry, I needed then it very much. Please forgive me.”
“You undressed me. You undressed yourself. We both were nude. You made me to lie on my back, straddled me and fucked me madly for more than one month even. It was a mistake?”
“Yes, I was vulnerable. I was suffering from immense depression. You offered me what I needed then utmost. I surrendered to my animal lust. I wasn’t in my senses. Plase, forget it. That’s not possible again. I thank you for your kindness and cooperation then. But that’s it. We’ll never repeat it.”
“I need you now, Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah.”
“Durgesh,”
“Take it in your hand. See yourself how much I need you now.”
“It isn’t possible, I say.”
I suddenly turned and marched fiercely to the door.
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah rushed after me.
“Durgesh, please, try to understand.”
“Forget me.” I said gravely, “I’m sorry that I wanted you to cooperate with me now, as I did with you.”
Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah grabbed me.
“Listen to me, please!”
“I need relief very much from the sexual tension between us. I gave you what you needed and expected the same in return.”
“Durgesh,”
“Let me seek it elsewhere.”*
I’d been trying to get adventurous with my hands, rubbing her sides, under the arms.
My fingers were audacious to go over the top of the shoulders.
Every time I got to feel just the start of the swelling of her excellent Musalmān breasts, my boldness never defeated me.
Yet it was my moral that I always returned to safe territory.
However, her comments of not minding and expecting to bump occasionally, did embolden me more and I moved in closer.
I ‘accidentally’ rested the shaft of my Uncut Hindu Lund in the beautiful enticing Musalmān crevice as long as I needed to test her – perhaps a second or two at the most.
“Mmm that feels so good. Your resting it there, I mean. Now let me do you and I’m out of here.”
And she turned around.
We took in each other’s frontal nakedness for just a brief Moment.
I gravely enjoyed the sight of her first pussy hair.
She was trying to be as nonchalant as possible and hide her girl-in-a-lolly-shop look at the most magnificent Uncut Hindu Lund she had ever dreamed of seeing.
As matter-of-factly as possible, she said,
“You have a nice member. You should be proud of it. However, now stop waving it at me and turn around. I’ll show you what a good back scrub feels like.”
I cooperated.
And smiled at the way she’d spoken when she saw my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Somehow it helped ease the tension between us.
For a split second I even forgot my raging sexual thoughts.
Only for a split second, however.
By the time she’d started on my back, I was remembering the comment the way I would remember it when I was alone with my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“You have a nice member, you should be proud of it, let’s fuck.”
Meanwhile, Curiosity was listening intently to Obsession.
That sure was a fantastic Uncut Hindu Lund wasn’t it?
It was worth the wait.
You wouldn’t have known what to do with that unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund when you were dreaming of it as a girl.
It looked soooo stiff, she thought the weight of it would make it hang out.
But it just went straight up.
I was as hard as Al Tayyabah Al İmrān wondered how heavy it felt.
Hindus are excellent in sex always.
And Durgesh is the best.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan claimed even the recent Indian democratic political revolution that Hindutv came into power, first time in Independent India, was too a phenomenon of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Revolution.
Durgesh’s Musalmān houseladies Brigade did it.
“Nonsense, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” Al Tayyabah Al İmrān couldn’t resist to contradict it, “You mean we Musalmān houseladies fucked Durgesh, and brought Hindutv in power?”
“Durgesh contradicts me?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly, triumphantly.
“I myself too. It’s absolutely incredible.”
“You aren’t aware of the power of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot. What do you think my Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, opened Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot International Clubs everywhere for?”*
I felt the soapy pad roam briefly over my hips.
I didn’t think of doing that to her.
I wasn’t obsessed to Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was obsessed to me.
Or, at least it was what I thought then.
I felt her soapy hands come around my front, over my stomach and then up over my chest.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān even touched my Uncut Hindu Penis, even grabbed it as if she did it accidentally, unknowingly.
I smiled.
I knew it was neither accidentally nor unknowingly.
She did it deliberately, determinedly, immensely aware of what she was doing, and enjoying it very much.
I felt she was even teasing me, compelling me to lose my senses and fuck her on the spot wildly.
Why the hell otherwise Al Tayyabah Al İmrān kept doing it accidentally repeatedly for almost half an hour?
Accidents don’t happen that way, that long, that many times.
And then, after it, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān did more.
She brushed her red crimson vibrant quivering beautiful Musalmān lips on my Uncut Hindu Penis, its head, in the same way, accidentally, unknowingly, repeatedly inviting me expressly as if.
In between the accidents, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān even licked and swallowed my Uncut Hindu Penis into her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
“Sorry,” Al Tayyabah Al İmrān smiled teasing me, “It slipped accidentally into my mouth and for a moment, I forgot you aren’t my husband.”
“It’s alright,” I smiled sweetly too, “never mind. You are most welcome.”
“No objection?”
“None whatsoever. Suck it as much as you want to.”
“You mean it?” Al Tayyabah Al İmrān asked incredibly.
“I mean it.”
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān suddenly attacked my Uncut Hindu Penis with her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth ravenously.
And then she sucked me hungrily for almost one complete hour.
I smiled and winked at her.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān went wilder and sucked me more ravenously.
She did it until I exploded into her beautiful Musalmān mouth ultimately.
She thanked me with her eyes silently and swallowed my entire Hindu cum.
She hugged herself close as she did this.
I could feel her pubic hairs touching my hips – and she said,
“So, how was that, best back rub you ever had”?
“Oooh yeah, it was great, thanks.” Not wanting it to ever ever stop.
Yet I knew very well it takes courage to make fantasies a reality.
“I’ll leave it to you to wash this part, then we’ll dry off and I’ll make us breakfast.”
As she was saying that, she was moving one hand down my body.
When she said the words “this part” she cupped a hand round – well not quite all the way round – the base of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
She measured off every inch as the hand slipped up to the tip and off the head of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Ok, that’s it, turn around and rinse the soap off your back, finish washing yourself. C’mon don’t dilly dally, I’m getting hungry.”
I hadn’t turned quickly.
However, at her request I turned.
She was soaping herself, hands over her nipples then between her legs.
“It’s rude to stare, c’mon, get out, you’re done, let me under the tap so Al Tayyabah Al İmrān can rinse off.”
I was watching her while I dried.
I started padding my Uncut Hindu Lund dry, cautious that if I gripped at it and toweled vigorously, it would explode with the cum I felt so desperately building inside me again.
She was out while I was finishing off my legs.
She joked,
“My goodness, that thing never went down. Did it? It must be stuck in that position.”
I’d finished and was reaching for her body with my towel,
“Do you want me to dry your back, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, my friend’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife?”
She saw through the ruse and knew my hands would quickly be drying some front bits as well.
She’d got her hands on what she’d set out to do in the shower,
“No, it’s ok honey, I’m done now, c’mon let’s go eat.”
She wrapped the towel around herself and headed out the door.
I wrapped up too and followed.
Walking down the hall together we reached the door of her bedroom first.
She was about to open her door when Morality struggled to push the pillow off her face and gloated,
‘Ahhh, her Curiosity is satisfied now, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān had seen and touched and felt my huge Uncut Hindu Lund, even licked swallowed and sucked as much as she wanted to, and there is no harm done.”
Obsession was furious.
“You sanctimonious hypocrite Musalmān bitch, how dare you get all high and mighty? Wasn’t it you only a couple of days ago saying that I was just curious too and that it would be good for my normalcy if I got to touch nipples? And now you go and touch Durgesh up all over the place and say no to him at the end, when you know he wanted to be the one doing the touching. Get what you want but don’t worry about others, that’s Morality for you.”
She dropped her hand from the door knob and followed in behind me as I was about to close my own door behind me.
“Honey, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān just wanted to say I’m sorry for doing that in there.”
“Umm it’s ok, never mind,” I smiled affably.
“I mean for teasing you. I touched your penis with my hands and Al Tayyabah Al İmrān shouldn’t have done that. You’re a grown man. Your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, should have respected that and not touched you. A man should consent to that sort of touching. To be honest with you, I touched you on purpose, because Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was curious. You have a very immensely handsome tremendously attractive Uncut Hindu Lund, err penis, it is the very nicest Al Tayyabah Al İmrān has ever seen. You really are very well endowed. You know how to use it. You make a lot of Musalmān girls very very happy indeed. I’m a bit embarrassed to say it was a dream of mine to have a lover with an Uncut Hindu Lund so nice, and I guess when Al Tayyabah Al İmrān saw yours in the shower, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was a bit too curious. I’m sorry.”
“Um it’s ok, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, my friend’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife. Really, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, I didn’t mind, I would have consented. I was kinda curious too, you know, to know what it felt like being touched by you. So, um, thanks.”
Morality was shuffling out of bed, buoyed by a miracle cure, sneering at Obsession,
“Ha ha, take that, ‘I told him the truth and everything is cleared up’? You were wrong, it wasn’t just him. You have satisfied a curiosity. Now, you can go back to normal and no real harm done.”
Obsession couldn’t take it any more and kicked Morality to the ground.
Really sinking the boot in this time, stomping stiletto heels into the face of Morality; and taking it gently by the hand,
“You are so sweet to say that. I knew you have been with countless women. When I touched you, your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, wondered if you were curious too. I thought maybe you were curious to touch me too, because your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, saw you peek at her excellent Musalmān breasts once, but when you didn’t try to touch me, well, that’s why Al Tayyabah Al İmrān only touched you quickly with one hand. When your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, was a girl I really wanted to hold such a nice one in both hands, but when you never tried to touch me I knew it wasn’t fair if your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, was the only one being curious to touch. But I’m so glad you said you didn’t mind, you are so sweet.”
She was screaming at her impenetrable shyness wanting to break free and say something, but the ideas spinning in her head were just too many and all she could do was look at her two hands warmly holding me.
“You know, if you were curious to know what my breasts feel like, you can if you want, it would only be fair after what your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, did to you. Really, your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, won’t mind. It would make us even,”
And she pulled my hand toward where the towel was tucked in her cleavage,
“Do you want to try?”
Chapter 5
——————————————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: Index
Posted: June 2, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim Terrorism, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Terrorism Leave a commentDoes Qur’an really orders to massacre innocent polytheists?
Index
Chapter 37
————————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 1
Posted: June 2, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Jihad Al Vaqār, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, Al Qahar Al Īmān, Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Bhogchakr theory, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Jāved Akħtar, life sciences, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim Terrorism, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Nawaz Sharif, Salīm, Seven Movements, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Terrorism Leave a commentChapter 1
The June morning dawned bright and warm.
It was a beautiful day for a wedding.
I had set my alarm for 6 a.m.
My criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, was getting married today.
Despite Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s every effort, she could not make her ever-stupid son to see the changing environment of the globe.
He wasn’t ever a member of any terrorist group, nevertheless he never found anything irreligious in any of that anti justice anti human organizations.
Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī decided not to marry him ever until he isn’t human at least somewhat.
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s scheme again backfired.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār loved Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, as he was himself now.
“You do understand he can join any terrorist group anytime,” Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī told Al Jihad Al Vaqār curtly, “Don’t you?”
“I doubt it, Ammī.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār cooed, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī didn’t join them when it was easier for the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists to survive and succeed. Now, Narendr Modī is in power in India. Have you forgotten what Narendr Modī did in Gujarat with these bloody Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists?”*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled confidently.
The bloody Alkuffār.
Polytheists.
Al Musharikīn.
Everyone is thinking Islam has lost forever.
Hindutv is in power now.
Not Narendr Modī.
No doubt, the Hindu scoundrel is lucky.
Every effort to kill Narendr Modī has backfired till now, without any exception.
So what?
There are millions of Musalmīn.
How many of them the Hindus can arrest?
How many of them the Hindus can hang till they don’t die?
He had proposed to kill Nawaz Sharif in India, at least, if not Narendr Modī.
However, none listened to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
They think Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is stupid.
Let them.
Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun!
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī sat at the wheel of the marvelous green seat of his Station Wagon.
The Indian Mujahidin are too afraid of Narendr Modī.
They think he is immortal now.
Nonsense, no one is immortal.
Let Al Nādir Al Ghāzī kill the root, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, first.
It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever unashamed shameless Musalmān lady brigade that always protect Hindus.
They always betray Musalmīn.
The persons like Jāved Akħtar, Salīm, etcetera have surrendered to Hindus already.
It’s not important what they say.
They have to do it for their own survival.
Kalma-e-kufr is allowed in Islam to self survival if there isn’t another option.
Islam isn’t a dīn of stupidity, irrespective of what the foolish Al Kuffār say.*
I got out of the hotel bed, and walked into the bathroom to get showered before seven.
According to the plan of the bride and groom, each one would share a wedding day breakfast with the other’s parents.
In this case, it meant that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s bride-to-be, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, would be having breakfast, with me, in my hotel room, and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī would have breakfast with Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s parents, Al Jalāl Al Wahāb and Al Qahar Al Īmān.
I was grave for my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
He was marrying a great girl.
It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful from head to toe either.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was a 26 year old interior decorator who’d met Al Nādir Al Ghāzī through mutual friends.
The attraction was immediate and after 2 years of courtship, he’d asked her to be his wife.
I slipped on a pair of loose fitting sweats and a casual t-shirt.
A knock on the door announced that room service was there.
The bellhop wheeled a cart in filled with different covered trays.
Quickly and quietly the bellhop set the table up for two.
I paid him a tip and he left.
I lifted the lids of each dish and found Belgian waffles under one, strawberries under another, a bowl of whipped cream, scrambled eggs on a plate, and sausages under another.
A carafe of coffee and a bottle of orange juice completed the meal.
I imagined Al Jihad Al Vaqār wouldn’t be too hungry, as is, having wedding day jitters.
But just in case, I’d made sure I ordered a good breakfast.
Promptly at 7 a.m., there was a knock on my hotel room door.
I answered it and there stood my knockout beautiful, soon to be ‘daughter in law’, Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
“Good morning, dad,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said as she smiled, leaned in and kissed me on my cheek.
I invited her in and ushered her over to the table of waiting food.
I pulled her chair out for her as she sat down.
I took the chair across from her.
Like me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār was very casually dressed for this hour of the morning.
She wore a thick bathrobe under which she wore a short cream colored chemise with boy shorts.
“Would it bother you terribly if I took my robe off, dad?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār asked.
“Of course not Al Jihad Al Vaqār, get comfortable girl.” I replied.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār stood up and took the robe off.
She walked the robe over to the coat rack by the door and hung it there.
I was mesmerized as I watched her walk over to hang the robe up.
I’d never seen Al Jihad Al Vaqār in anything other than classy suits or blue jeans.
The chemise she wore was soft ivory and hung just below the cheeks of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Her legs were long and slender and she was very shapely.
When she turned and walked back towards the table, even I had to catch my breath.
The front of the chemise was cut low and rested on the top of her breasts that were full and filled out the front of the chemise.
I could actually see her beautiful nipples poking through the fabric.
She was one beautiful Musalmān woman I thought again.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled as she sat down across from me.
She enjoyed a good relationship with her soon to be father in law.
I’d made her feel like part of the family from the start.
I razzed her just as much as I did Al Nādir Al Ghāzī and my 3 other Musalmān stepsons.
She’d always admired me.
She also found me very attractive.
Even far more attractive, far more romantic and far sexier than her soon to be husband was.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was a handsome man, but he looked more like his mother than his father.
More feminine than masculine.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s hair was sandy brown like his mother’s, as well as having his mother’s green eyes.
My hair was a dark black, and I was not even starting to grey at my temples, as some men in my age did.
My eyes too were black and framed by spiky long lashes.
Even in my medium height, I stood a full 3 inches taller than my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
I stood up and started to remove the lids from the food.
“I didn’t know what you’d want, but I knew you liked Belgian waffles so I ordered them and all of this. I hope you’re hungry, young lady.” I smiled warmly at Al Jihad Al Vaqār. “Would you like me to make the bride a plate?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled back at me,
“Actually Dad, I am hungry, but my nerves are a little edgy. May we just sit and talk for a little bit before we eat? It will calm my nerves.”
“Sure hon'” I said, “C’mon, come sit on the bed and we’ll chat like friends.” I smiled.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār and I got comfortable on the bed.
I sat with my back against the headboard and Al Jihad Al Vaqār sat cross-legged in front of me.
“Is that better?” I asked.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed at my friendly remark and said,
“This is fine, dad.”
She sat there looking at me and couldn’t explain the weird feeling coming over her.
I was sitting there smiling at her and she had this unexplainable urge to kiss me.
Allah!
How incredible it was.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad always said,
“No beautiful woman, irrespective of her age, can ever resist Durgesh’s infinite masculine charms. Durgesh complains that no woman let him continue ever a platonic relationship with her. But how the hell can anyone? Durgesh has infinite Bhogchakr.”
Is it true?
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed.
She never believed in the ever ridiculous Bhogchakr theory of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Musalmān lady brigade.
It was a nonsense.*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had parked his station wagon from the Iron Gate at the entrance of the massive Ashvinātam Masjid.
He kept an eye on the University young ladies and even mature Musalmān beautiful ladies going inside for Al Fajir mass.
It was the tenth and last day of their Ijlās.
If their quarry arrived today, as he had the previous nine mornings, the pattern was set.
They would place the dynamite in the tunnel beneath the street tonight.
They would detonate the explosives and assassinate their tremendously scorned enemy, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the founder of HLMCIC.
Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot International Clubs.
Let the ever-democratic scoundrel go to hell.
Even if they couldn’t kill Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan the so called Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated due to her immensely incredible black magic powers, they could kill at least her immensely respected Abbū, the devil incarnate,
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī peered at his wristwatch.
“You’d better go in now,” he said quietly to the young lady in the front seat beside him. “If the bastard is on schedule, he should be here in five minutes.”
“Do I have to?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled devilishly, “What purpose? He’d never get to the damn Masjid, Ashvinātam Masjid, hunh, tomorrow morning.”
“For positive identification,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled cunningly, “They want to fuck our muqaddas, pious, Pāk, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies. Let them. Who the hell are more pious than the Mujāhidāt themselves? Hindu scoundrels, fuck Mujāhidāt and be damned. Our Mujāhidāt would keep you busy 24×7 in sex with them. They’d give birth to your Hindu sons who would be the Mujāhidīn next generation, as we are.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan has planned to expose us to the true Musalmīn, as he calls them.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled sarcastically.
“True Musalmīn? Who support the ever coward Hindus?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled curtly.
“Now they are in power, don’t forget.”
“I won’t, ever,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said bitterly. “I want you to see him close up. We’ve got to be certain he is Al Saåīd Al Qādir, the deputy prime minister in charge of defense, and no other. Go ahead, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, it’s the last time.”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
They never said, “Allah Ħāfiz,”
They always said, ‘Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun’, instead.
It was their code somewhat even.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was nineteen only, while Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was twenty nine already.
“Fa qatulū almusharikīn,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said.
“Ħaysu wajadttumūhum.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī said.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī watched her leave the car, cross over, and reach the landing below the massive Masjid door.
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī fell in among other worshipers at the steps, climbing up and going inside the Masjid.*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār tried to dispel the thought from her mind, but it wouldn’t shake.
Even worse, her thoughts started getting more provocative about me.
I sat there a little thoughtful by the strange look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face.
One moment she’d been smiling at me and now she was sitting there staring at me with this peculiar look.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār, are you okay?” I said in a concerned voice.
As if in a daze, Al Jihad Al Vaqār got up on her knees and inched herself intimately close to me.
Without saying a word, she placed her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips on mine and tenderly kissed me.
Inhaling she could take in my masculine Hindu scent and her kiss became a little more searching as her tongue pried its way between my lips.
Now I fully understood the weird look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face, but what I didn’t understand was why in the hell was I returning her kiss?
She was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
Oh how her mouth was warm sweet though.
I sucked her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips in between mine while my hands began to explore what was under the chemise.
Right before my eyes, Al Jihad Al Vaqār raised the chemise above and over her head and threw it on the floor.
Her breasts were stunning.
My mouth watered just looking at them.
My hands reached out for them and I grasped and caressed them.
No words were spoken as passion overtook the both of us.
We both knew what our actions were leading up to, but as if possessed by a hunger we couldn’t explain we didn’t stop.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, only in her boy shorts straddled My lap and began to kiss me again.
Our kiss was hungry and passionate.
My cock was hard and I could feel it pressing against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s pussy.
I grabbed a hand full of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and pulled her even closer to me as we kissed.
Pushing myself away from the headboard, I laid Al Jihad Al Vaqār down in front of me.
Staring at her sexy body, I removed my t-shirt and stripped my sweats off.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was long, thick and very erect as my sweats came off.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār started to slide her boy shorts down, when I took over and slid them completely off for her.
Smiling at her, I bowed my head down and inhaled her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
It was warm and musky.
Easing myself down between her legs, I spread them apart.
Her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was beautifully shaven.
Wrapping my mouth fully over it, I kissed it passionately.
My lips ravaged her.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks bucked under me and her hands pressed my head deeper into her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Yes, Durgesh, kiss me, kiss me there.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār huskily whispered.
I drove Al Jihad Al Vaqār wild when I kissed across her clit.
I loved this.
At this moment, I did not care that Al Jihad Al Vaqār was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
She had chosen to allow me this privilege and I sure as hell wasn’t going to pass it up.
Let the anti-human Pseudo Musalmān terrorist suffer, even if he was my stepson.
Let him get punished.
I knew once with me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār would never return to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī completely.
She could never forget the immense sexual bliss she would get from me.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī couldn’t give its ten percent even.
Pressing my head hard against her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt herself about to cum.
Her orgasm overtook her and spread through her entire body.
I had already stopped doing what I was doing.
As her orgasm subsided, I kissed her clit once more and then got up on top of her.
Kneeing her legs open a bit more, I positioned my ultra-hard Uncut Hindu Cock and then drove it deep inside Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
Her excellent young Musalmān body bucked and we both moaned loudly.
With an ardent intensity, I began to work my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of her silky Musalmān pussy.
All the while, Al Jihad Al Vaqār moaned loudly and called out my name.
It was a good thing that her parent’s room, was on another floor of the hotel.
Anyone walking by the room would have clearly heard what was going on inside.
Her calling out my name only turned me on more and I worked my Uncut Hindu Cock even harder pounding into her.
Getting up on my knees, I flipped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs over my shoulders and proceeded to drive deeper and deeper into her tight Musalmān pussy.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, she felt so good to me.
I knew I could cum at any moment, but I wouldn’t allow myself as I suspected this moment could never happen again.
With that thought in mind, I gave it all I could working my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out, my balls slapping against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful Musalmān ass.
Grunting with each thrust, I watched the ecstasy etched all over Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful young Musalmān face.
I loved knowing I was the one giving her this pleasure.
As much as I detested my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, I wanted to make sure that nobody ever fucked Al Jihad Al Vaqār as well as I was at this moment.
I wanted her to remember this.
“Yes darling! Is this what you want?” I said out of breath.
“Allah, Måshā Allah, Subħān Allah, yes,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār breathlessly replied. “I want you to cum into me, dad, sorry, not dad now, Durgesh darling, my actual husband from now on!”
“What?”
“That’s right. What the hell do you think? I want to cuckold your terrorist stepson to both of us. And Wallāh, I promise to do it. Let him clean my Musalmān Cunt licking it, after you fuck me.”
I didn’t say anything as to its response.
I dropped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs off of my shoulders and laid down on her.
Kissing her very lovingly, I rhythmically began to slide my Uncut Hindu Cock back and forth until I felt my orgasm began to build up and finally explode.
A loud guttural cry escaped from my lips as My body froze and I emptied my Hindu seed into Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s fertile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān womb.
“Thank you darlin'” I said, as I smiled and kissed Al Jihad Al Vaqār afterward. “You’re something else, you beautiful woman. My stepson is a lucky man.”
No more words were said as we got up, enjoyed a shower together and then ate breakfast leisurely.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār got dressed again, and slipped off to her room to prepare for her wedding day.
No one smiled more, at the wedding, than the bride and the father of the groom that day.
About a year later, I could only smile when people told me how much my 3 month old namesake grandson looked like me.
There would be more in the line.
Wouldn’t they?
Chapter 2
—————————————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ahal-Al Bayt: Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah: 1
Posted: May 1, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 1
Durgesh Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah
Muħammad pulled into the driveway and his eyes lit up.
His Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, were out!
As if Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah wasn’t Muħammad’s wife at all, his Hindu Dad’s, Durgesh, the sixty five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu’s wife herself instead.
Muħammad’s eyes were burning.
Durgesh was fucking Muħammad’s entire extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies and neither Muħammad could do anything, nor his otherwise astound father, Åbdullah.
Al Kħātūn Al Makkah Saiyadah Āmnah had cuckolded both of them successfully, eventually, ultimately.
Getting out of his car, Muħammad smiled in anticipation of what being home alone meant.
Entering the house, he grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and quickly made his way down the hallway.
Stepping into his room, Muħammad dropped his briefcase on the desk and downed half the coke.
He quickly stripped out of his suit and thought about taking a shower.
Figuring Muħammad had no idea when his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, had gone out and when they would be back, Muħammad skipped the shower for now and tossed on a pair of shorts and a Celtics t-shirt.
Closing his bedroom door, Muħammad all but ran down the corridor to his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh’s bedroom.
By the time Muħammad’s opened the door and entered the room, his cock was already semi hard.
He couldn’t do anything.
As Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam had, Muħammad too had married more than four Musalmān wives.
Instead, Muħammad had more than thirteen Musalmān wives even as Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam had.
Yet, Durgesh was fucking Muħammad’s entire extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Muħammad’s beautiful Musalmān wives were no exception at all.
Muħammad immediately went over to the corner and lifting up the lid of the hamper began rummaging around.
Muħammad felt like a kid on Eīdul Fitr morning when Muħammad pulled out a lacy purple thong.
He let the lid fall close, with no hesitation brought the crotch of the thong to his nose and inhaled deeply.
Muħammad released a long sigh that bordered on a moan at the delicious scent of his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s, now well fucked by Durgesh, extremely beautiful extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Keeping his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s lingerie pressed to his face, Muħammad walked over to the desk against the wall where their computer was set up.
Flopping down in the chair, Muħammad took another deep breath while Muħammad reached down and rubbed his aching cock through his shorts.
Lowering the thong, Muħammad started rubbing the silky material along his hands, imagining his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s soft wet extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot beneath it.
He couldn’t believe his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, was really his wife at all.
Durgesh was really fucking Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and Muħammad was only enjoying the aroma of her extremely beautiful extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Muħammad couldn’t celebrate his Shab-e-Urūsī even with any of his extremely beautiful wives.
Durgesh celebrated.
Allah, damn the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Isn’t she the actual mastermind behind it all?
Establishing her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Muħammad couldn’t even run away.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was perhaps really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā.
She had chosen Muħammad to establish her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had smiled at him.
“Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were Rasūlullāh, you bear his great name. You are my Rasūl, Rasūlul Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā. Okay? You have to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah for me.”
“Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā,”
“Let me finish first, my child,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā raised her right hand to stop Muħammad in his midsentence.
That thought briefly cut into his lustful fantasies.
Muħammad had first started sniffing his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s panties a few years which was right about the time Muħammad’d begun noticing and thinking about girls and sex.
In the beginning, it was just about the idea of ‘this is what a woman smells like’.
Sniffing had turned to masturbating with them, but for some reason it was never with a visual off his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah.
Muħammad would think about Åāyeshah who used to live next door and who was a damn hot red head or some of the Musalmān girls in his University.
But seeing Muħammad couldn’t get a whiff of them, or get his hands on their panties, his own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s were therefore what Muħammad used.
Even when Muħammad started dating Muħammad would jerk off into her panties while wishing for that day Muħammad would be able to smell another Musalmān female’s scent and directly in his face rather than through clothing.
That happened a couple of years back, when after dating Zaynab for six months, her parents had gone away and her big sister gave her the green light to let Muħammad come over.
Once Muħammad’d gotten his first taste of her, Muħammad had stopped using his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s underwear as a masturbation enhancer because Muħammad’d stolen a couple of pairs of Zaynab’s.
Muħammad was sure she figured Muħammad took them, but never brought it up.
They broke up six months later, but in the time since Muħammad had been on a good swing and never remained single for more than a few weeks.
It helped that both his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, were good looking and Muħammad’d inherited a his Ammī’s features.
Muħammad had his father’s black hair, but his Ammī’s deep blue eyes and high cheekbones.
Between the cheek bones, his Abbū’s dimpled chin and Ammī’s smooth complexion and coupled with the fact his hair was always perfectly combed Muħammad had endured more than a few pretty boy jokes from other guys.
But those jokes were worth the success his looks and easy going personality brought Muħammad e with the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girls.
University provided even more opportunity to meet pretty Musalmān girls and for the last couple of years his fixation with the smell of his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot had been replaced with enjoying the real thing and Muħammad’d left it behind as one of those weird things horny kids did.
That was until last month when his laptop froze up and Muħammad needed to finish a project for University.
His Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, had told Muħammad to use their computer while Muħammad’s was getting fixed and that was when his obsession had not only returned, but progressed to the point Muħammad was now thinking more about what was in those panties.
Muħammad’d noticed their computer kept freezing and when Muħammad’d hit the keys to bring up the task manager saw that windows movie maker was running.
Muħammad closed out everything else and when Muħammad brought up movie maker saw there was a pop up asking if the project should be saved.
Muħammad’d done that many times himself, quickly clicked out of it or thought Muħammad had because Muħammad’d walk away not remembering it always asked.
Muħammad prepared to click yes figuring he didn’t want to lose anything of theirs.
Just before Muħammad hit the button Muħammad noticed the title of the project was “Want this?”
It struck Muħammad it could be something racy, but had a hard time believing his wife and Durgesh would film themselves.
Not that Muħammad didn’t think we had sex, we were always affectionate with each other and both looked damn good and worked hard at the gym to stay that way, but still…Looking over his shoulder as if Muħammad thought they would materialize behind him, Muħammad clicked play.
The screen filled with a view of the bed and Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, walking over to it.
She was wearing a short red robe and sitting on the edge of the bed, gave her long, dirty blond hair a toss.
“What is it honey?” she asked the camera with a big smile.
“Just wondering if you’re ready for bed.” Muħammad’s Hindu Dad, Durgesh’s deep voice came from behind the camera.
“For bed, sure,” her smile turned mischievous, “For sleep? Not yet.”
“Oh? You have something in mind?”
“Hmm-mm” she purred in a sexy voice that caused Muħammad’s cock to begin stirring. “I’m ready for some fun, you want to play?”
“Why don’t you show me what I’ll be playing with?”
“Yes sir,” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, pushed her full sensual lips into a pout, standing up, she pulled the robe open and let it fall to the floor.
When the robe hit the floor, Muħammad’s jaw had as well.
Although Muħammad’d seen Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, in a fairly revealing bikini many times, it had never dawned on him how damn hot she was.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, was tall and years of jogging had kept her long legs looking better than ever.
Her stomach was surprisingly flat.
Despite the fact she was on the slender side, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī heavy gorgeous glamorous big perfectly round firm Musalmān buttocks had enough curve to them to give her an exquisite excellent figure.
What really grabbed his attention were her bare Musalmān tits; they were big perfectly round and sitting high and firm.
The skin around her nipples was a deep red in color and the nipples themselves hard and pointing straight at the camera.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, cupped them, offering them to his Hindu father, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh, “Want these, father in law?”
“I do, Sālī, but what else you have?” I too smiled naughtily.
“I have it all!” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, laughed and sliding her hands down her stomach pulled the black thong she was wearing aside, flashing her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
By then Muħammad’s cock had been aching in his pants and Muħammad had begun to rub it as Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, let the thong fall back.
Allah, what a tragedy.
She was his own wife, yet she was pleasuring Durgesh always, never Muħammad.
Lifting her long hair up, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah turned around and shook her firm heart shaped heavy Musalmān ass at the camera.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, started to turn back around, but his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, called out,
“Take it off from there; show me that pretty extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot from behind.”
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, obediently hooked her fingers into the thong and sliding it down, bent over.
Muħammad’d stared mouth wide open as Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, exposed not only her gorgeous Musalmān ass, but her pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot winking out from between her well toned smooth Musalmān thighs.
The fact Muħammad was staring at his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot should have caused Muħammad to shut it off, but instead Muħammad began rubbing his cock harder and grinding his hips while Muħammad watched her turn back around and climb onto the bed.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, lay back on the pillows and crossing her long Musalmān legs at the ankles, asked,
“What do you want to see, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā?”
“You know what I want to see.”
“I don’t know…” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, made a show of rubbing her chin as if thinking it over.
“Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah?” I frowned as the camera moved closer to the bed, “Sālī, let me see that perfect extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.”
“What do I get out of it?” she asked, now fondling her tits. “You going to kiss it?”
“Done.”
“On that note.” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, laughed and slowly opened her beautiful Musalmān legs.
Muħammad had been squeezing his cock as his hand moved up and down, jerking it through his jeans.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, reached down between her legs and as the camera zoomed in close, spread her pink lips open.
Using one slender red tipped finger she began sliding it through her soft wet folds and started teasing her clit.
“Come give me a kiss there, Anant Muslimātchod father in law Hindu Piyā.” She beckoned me with her other hand.
The camera moved as I, placed it on the bed and lying across Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s thigh he began Penising her clit so the camera could catch it.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, moaned and the sound sent a thrill through Muħammad.
Giving in, Muħammad had unsnapped his jeans and pulling his cock out stared to stroke it.
In front of Muħammad, I had slipped my Uncut Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot and was working it in and out.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s fingers were running through my hair and she was moaning, “Oh, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, that feels so fucking good! Your Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund is the ever best,”
Muħammad’d been pumping his cock hard and fast when Muħammad’d heard my limousine pull into the driveway.
Panicking, Muħammad’d zipped up and ran into his room where locking his door, Muħammad sat on the bed and masturbated furiously to the image of his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s hairless pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Muħammad stroked it twice more that night and from then on whenever Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah and I went out at night, Muħammad would sneak into our room and check out our movies.
Poor Muħammad.
Watching desperately his own wife, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, fucking Durgesh, and Muħammad himself masturbating only.
And there were several of those movies of his wife with me.
If Muħammad thought the first one was hot, the next one featured Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, on her knees between my legs giving me a long slow excellent blowjob.
It was a little weird seeing my Uncut Hindu Lund, especially because it looked pretty damn big, but watching his own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, suck on it helped Muħammad quickly overcome his awkwardness.
He had perfect right.
Even his wife and Durgesh didn’t have any right at all.
It was a sin what Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and Durgesh were doing, not what Muħammad was doing.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, was as good as any of the porn stars Muħammad’d seen, taking my Uncut Hindu Lund down to my Hindu balls easily and taking a good long time licking, teasing and sucking.
The entire time she was working my Uncut Hindu Lund with her amazing Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān mouth, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, had been moaning and her big blue Musalmān eyes were rolled back.
With his cut Musalmān nūnī in his hand, it occurred to Muħammad, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, loved to suck Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund immensely! Muħammad’d kept his stroking slow until the end of the video, when with a loud moan Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, began jerking my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It went on some time.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth and after taking the first spurt into it, turned her face side to side letting me splatter my cum all into her Musalmān mouth.
When I was done, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, let the cum drool out of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth, back onto my Uncut Hindu Lund.
His own cut Musalmān nūnī exploded when Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, started licking my Uncut Hindu Lund clean.
The next video featured us going around the world, fucking in every position and each time we switched Muħammad swore Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, looked even hotter than in the one before.
By the fifth or sixth time Muħammad’d watched that video Muħammad was jerking off using Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s panties and admiring the way I, who was in damn excellent shape myself, fucked the shit out of Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah.
Now a month later, Muħammad was nothing short of obsessed.
When his folks were sitting on the couch watching TV Muħammad found himself imagining them having sex, I, just yanking Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s skirt up and fucking her right over the couch.
It would get so bad Muħammad would have to excuse himself and go jerk off.
Worse was when Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, would get close to me.
Now when she hugged me Muħammad was painfully aware of her tits pressing against me and when she would give me a kiss on the cheek all Muħammad could imagine was how good those soft lips would feel pressed against something else.
Muħammad constantly undressed her with his eyes, or more accurately would envision her stripping for me.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, wore a short robe around the house in the summer and as she did in that first video Muħammad could see her untying it and letting it hit the floor.
She would hold up her perfect Musalmān tits and ask if Durgesh wanted them.
Thoughts like that were what concerned Muħammad.
His fantasies had gone from just thinking of his wife Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah and I fucking, to us fucking everywhere in public openly.
Not that the former was normal, but the latter was pretty sick.
Sick. That was the word that entered his mind enough to tell him Muħammad should stay away from our computer and try to stop thinking about it.
Muħammad’d been single for a couple of months now as his fantasies no longer seemed to revolve around pretty coeds, but the one woman in the world Muħammad shouldn’t be thinking about now, even if she was his duly married wife.
That was what Muħammad told himself on a daily basis.
But anytime Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, walked by me wearing a pair of shorts or bent over to pick something up, his mind was filled with the videos; and if we weren’t home?
Muħammad would immediately be right where Muħammad was now. Sitting in our room and scoping our PC for new videos.
Muħammad noticed when Muħammad had first been looking there were only three, but after a couple of weeks, it seemed there was a new one every few days.
I had them under a folder marked, “projects” and had it pass word protected.
But I was predictable and used ‘Durgesh Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’ as my password for everything there.
Chapter 2
—————————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ahal-Al Bayt: Volume 2: Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah: Index
Posted: May 1, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentVolume 2
Index
Chapter 3
——————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Yacht: 9
Posted: February 26, 2014 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Nādir Al Ħaibat, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Åbdullah, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentMidterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
Chapter 9
Durgesh Al Saåīdah Al Wājid
Durgesh Al Taufīq Al Zāhid
Durgesh Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī
The chief of police interfered now.
“I hope I don’t have to take you into custody for disturbing the peace, Ma’am.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled ironically.
“What a fool you are. You think I came here without anticipating your illegal dirty conspiracy with Muħammad Ůsmān? You idiot, I have an anticipatory bail already against your potential illegal arrest.”
The chief of police was startled.
“Never thought of it?” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled sweetly, “We know you scoundrels even more than you think. We are prepared for your every illegal attack whatsoever. You fatheaded nincompoop, I know you more than you think. You are just a shill for these gambling houses. I respect the honest police officers. But I know Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim have you right in their hip pockets. What do you think, I’m a damn fool that doesn’t even know the criminal activities of Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim were not possible so arrogantly without your dishonest illegal support to them? You don’t dare to hiccup unless Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim give you permission. Don’t tell me what I can do and what I can’t do!”
“You are using loud and profane language in a public place, Ma’am.” The chief of police said, “If you continue to make abusive statements of that sort in public, I’ll have to take action, despite your anticipatory bail even.”
“Sure, go ahead. For your kind information, damn fool, we have set hidden video cameras here transmitting everything to the media and your higher authorities. Oh, never anticipated that? I know. We have immense faith in your stupidities. I haven’t moved into profanity yet. I’m getting ready to, however. Believe me, dumb ass, when I do that I use some very biting adjectives, and a few nouns that may startle you. You…”
“Just a minute,” I interrupted, “Perhaps I can be of some help here.”*
Muħammad Ůsmān said sweetly.
“Sure, you are most welcome. It was impossible the scriptwriter hasn’t written any dialogue for himself too. Go ahead.”
I ignored him totally, as if Muħammad Ůsmān wasn’t anybody there.
“Ma’am, I think it might be better to control yourself. You never need to let some cheap crooks debate with you. It is somewhat a humiliation for a lady like you. Why make a personal demand while there’s a legal remedy available? I think a written demand made in a more formal manner through an attorney would do you better.”
Muħammad Ůsmān eyed me scornfully.
“Just keep fucking us innocent Musalmīn’s extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies you are good at. You aren’t any attorney any more. You have exploded the entire law you knew once, in the form of your dirty Hindu semen into the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunts of our extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Through an attorney? Haha! You know as well as I do that when a guy loses money gambling, he can’t get it back.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid laughed.
I smiled cunningly.
“Can’t he, Muħammad Ůsmān? Are you sure?”
Muħammad Ůsmān laughed sardonically.
“You are damn right, my wife fucker, my sister in law fucker, he can’t. Even if the game was crooked, he can’t. He was engaging in an illegal activity and—”
“Careful,” Al Nādir Al Haibat interposed, “Let us put it this way, Muħammad Ůsmān. There are certain contracts that are against public policy as far as the law is concerned. It’s against the policy of the law to raise those activities to the dignity of legitimate business enterprises. Therefore, the courts are not open to persons who have participated in those activities.”
“Never mind all that double talk,” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “Let’s give it to the multi-millionaire lady straight from the shoulder. Tell her despite her multi millions she can’t get a dime back legally. Durgesh has sweet-talked with her trying to seduce her. She must see herself in the mirror. She is an ever-irresistible Musalmān Beauty for the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu. He has fooled her talking with her immensely sweetly making her daydream, just to fuck her too as he is fucking the other Musalmān houseladies that are immensely beautiful. We sympathize with her.”
“That’s right, ma’am.” Al Nādir Al Haibat said with his toothy smile, “I know you are a successful businesswoman. But Durgesh is the most successful Muslimātchod Hindu in the entire history of humankind. He is an ever-incurable Musalmān Beauties fucker, beautiful Musalmān houseladies fucker. He has such immense incredible ever-incurable communal obsession to fuck our otherwise decent Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful. You can easily understand how things are in this regard. A person can’t sit in on a game at night, trying to win money, and then come back the next day and say that the activity was illegal. He wants the money back that he’s lost. If he could do that, he would keep all of his winnings, and then whenever he’d lost he’d recoup his losses. Now, Muħammad Ůsmān is in a legitimate business and—I hope our Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Prince Charming, Durgesh, hasn’t fucked you already by talking sweet to you and making you daydream.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled sarcastically, patronizing, feigning sympathy.
“You really think your beautiful Musalmān houseladies are as stupid and you Musalmīn are as powerless, as incompetent that Durgesh always succeeds to fuck your Musalmān Beauties, your beautiful Musalmān houseladies despite their inherent chastity and your entire efforts to keep them chaste?”
“Of course, ma’am, that’s what this Anant Muslimātchod Hindu is. You don’t know him exactly.”
“Are you really a damn fool or you are trying to pose yourselves so?”
“Ma’am,”
“The Musalmān Beauties and your beautiful Musalmān houseladies are not as vulnerable as you are trying to pose them, neither you Musalmīn are as powerless.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said curtly, “The fact is exactly contrary to what you are trying to present. The Musalmān Beauties and beautiful Musalmān houseladies that are Durgesh’s Live in relationship Partners and beloveds, are frequently interviewed by entirely unbiased, honest and sincere journalists. They tell different stories entirely.”
“Ma’am,”
“A large number of them were framed in first degree murders due to different reasons. Durgesh fought their cases, exposed their conspirators, sent them to jail. The relatives of those conspirators defamed those Musalmān Beauties and beautiful Musalmān houseladies with Durgesh, even while there wasn’t any such thing anywhere. Durgesh successfully fought the cases of defamation of character on their behalf and was rewarded large monetary compensations even.”
“You mean Durgesh doesn’t have any sexual relationship with our beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Musalmān Beauties?”
“Of course, Durgesh has. Yet they are consensual relationships, not conspiratorial or communal as you claim. You losers are either jealous of Durgesh or yourselves communal trying to defame Durgesh, those Musalmān Beauties and those beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Yet their bonds with Durgesh is as much stronger that the more you tried to defame them the more they loved each other.”
Muħammad Ůsmān and Al Nādir Al Haibat looked at each other.
“Durgesh has already successfully fucked her too.” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “Forget to save her from the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu scoundrel. No benefit in locking the stable after the horse is stolen.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid laughed curtly.
“I hope you’d prove in a competent court what you are accusing us of when we fight the case of defamation of character against you.”
Muħammad Ůsmān and Al Nādir Al Haibat were furious.
They were suffering from such wrath that they were incapable even to speak.
“They’ve rigged up a deal on my comparatively not so smart husband, Al Wājid Al Muħammad.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said, “They had already got him for something over five thousand dollars. I wasn’t willing to let even that ride. Why should I? Al Wājid Al Muħammad promised me that he wouldn’t do any more gambling, but they started in easy last night and lured him into the game. Then they started to take him. Al Wājid Al Muħammad thought his luck was bound to turn and stayed with it and—”
“He could have won,” Muħammad Ůsmān said sympathetically, “if he wasn’t thinking of your unfaithfulness, ma’am. Al Wājid Al Muħammad was immensely afraid of you that you would cuckold him to you and Durgesh in the same manner as my wife Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah has cuckolded me to herself, Durgesh and her younger ever smart sister Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah that kidnapped Durgesh and raped him.”
“Well, I think you ever doubtful Pseudo Musalmīn really deserve that.”
“I see.” Muħammad Ůsmān said curtly.
“Despite Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s constant advocacy that Pseudo Musalmīn never deserve us Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives’ innocent faithfulness, we should join her Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement, establish her ever dreamed of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, I never succumbed to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. But Al Wājid Al Muħammad never respected my loyalty to him despite his countless shortcomings. He is after Al Taufīq Al Zāhid.”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid grimaced.
“Even if Durgesh hadn’t obliged me, I’d never appreciated your husband. I sympathize with him that he thinks you are cheating him for Durgesh.”
“That’s only a pretense for his gambling and infidelity to me for you.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said curtly, “The bastard knows very well I don’t have any clandestine extramarital affair with Durgesh or anyone else. He has ill influenced my daughters even. I think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is correct. The bastards like Al Wājid Al Muħammad really deserve to be cuckolded. My daughter, Al Fahmīdah Al Wājid…”
Al Nādir Al Haibat said gravely.
“Anyway, there you are, ma’am. Your husband, Al Wājid Al Muħammad, was trying to win. If he had won, he’d have pocketed his winnings and both of you would have been very satisfied this morning. But he didn’t win, so…”
“So I want the money back,” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said. “The game was crooked.”
“You can prove that?” Muħammad Ůsmān asked ominously, threateningly somewhat.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid watched Muħammad Ůsmān scornfully,
“You are damn right, I can prove that. What the hell for do you think I’ve retained Durgesh professionally? However, I don’t need to prove it. You know it was crooked. Everybody here knows it was crooked. You aren’t running this place on the square. Don’t be silly.”
“Those are the words that would lay you wide open to a claim for damages,” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “I suggest you be more careful, ma’am.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled triumphantly,
“All I know is that Al Wājid Al Muħammad has last something like fifteen thousand dollars here within the last few weeks and I am not going to stand by and see him robbed until he is legally my husband. It affects not only his, but also my reputation too as well, adversely. Now, are you going to give him the money back or…”
“Definitely, absolutely, positively not!” Muħammad Ůsmān interrupted firmly, “Your husband doesn’t get back a nickel. Moreover, in view of what you’ve just said, and the scene you’ve created here, Al Wājid Al Muħammad doesn’t even get back inside this place. I’m leaving orders with my Årab doorman not to admit him.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled sarcastically, triumphantly.
Muħammad Ůsmān was as fuming as he didn’t notice even the sarcasm in her immensely scornful voice.
He continued irately,
“If you’d come to me as a lady and told me that you didn’t want your husband gambling here, Al Wājid Al Muħammad couldn’t have got in last night. However, you never said a word about it. Al Wājid Al Muħammad came and went just any other person and he gambled. He’s a good poker player. He knows what he’s doing but he just happened to have a run of bad luck last night. That’s all there was to it.
“Nevertheless, now you’ve said you don’t want Al Wājid Al Muħammad gambling here, that’s good enough for me. We won’t ever let him sit in another game.”
“Ma’am, I think that’s fair enough.” Al Nādir Al Haibat said, “If you didn’t want your husband gambling, I’m quite certain that Muħammad Ůsmān wouldn’t have wanted him sitting in on the games. I don’t think you ever said a word to Muħammad Ůsmān about not wanting Al Wājid Al Muħammad to gamble. After all, he’s been trying his best to win. You don’t have any legal recourse and…”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid put her hand on my hand.
“Are you sure you’ve taken my case against this crooked outfit?”*
I smiled.
I assured her, pressing her hand.
“I’ve already told you my strategy. Don’t worry. They charge me that I fuck beautiful Musalmān houseladies as my fee to save them from everything against them whatsoever the hell it may be. Nevertheless they never charge me I don’t protect them.”
“That’s right, ma’am,” Al Nādir Al Haibat interposed sarcastically, “If you’ve let Durgesh fuck you, you can commit any crime including first degree murder even. Durgesh would never let you punished. That’s guaranteed. Durgesh has already saved hundreds of beautiful Musalmān houseladies who committed first-degree murders of their Musalmān husbands/mankind. Every one of them is now Durgesh’s highly respected Live in relationship partner. Even the Supreme Court has declared them innocent. Their other Musalmān mankind were framed successfully by Durgesh and serving lifetime sentence or have gone to gas chamber.”
I was suddenly startled.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid’s extremely beautiful right Musalmān hand suddenly slipped and, Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, it was on my Uncut Hindu Lund without any previous ultimatum.
“Thank you,” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was suddenly rock hard.
Nevertheless, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid didn’t remove her palm from there.
I smiled triumphantly at Al Nādir Al Haibat.
“Thank you, counselor. I’m immensely grateful to you. Your false charges on me have compensated me with an immeasurably extraordinary compensation.”
Al Nādir Al Haibat had fallen as if from seventh sky.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid squeezed my Hindu erection once more.
Despite I was already fucking Al Taufīq Al Zāhid; I put my left hand around Al Saåīdah Al Wājid’s beautiful Musalmān waist, pulled her to myself and kissed her on her red crimson welcoming lips.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid returned my kiss immensely indebted to me.
Her arms were suddenly around my neck.*
Everyone, it seemed, was staring at Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
For Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad it was frightening to see that in each person’s eyes, without exception, there was registered a look of horror.
Within thirty minutes, the group, grown larger from the arrival of other members of the Board of Directors, had assembled in the Conference Room.
They stood now in a semicircle, with an opening in the center for two still photographers and two television camerawomen representing the press pool, clustered around the long dark mahogany table.
Once, while waiting, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid had asked Al Jalāl Al Tayyab if she had any person more whom she might wish to have witness the ceremony.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab confirmed my arm around her waist, smiled proudly at her husband, Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, and replied confidently.
“Certainly not. If Durgesh is with me, it’s more than even optimum for me.”
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad felt himself immensely insulted.
Yet, he knew he was too powerless to do anything.
Once, minutes ago, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid had beckoned to Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad and Al Hilāl Al Tayyab and demanded Al Qur’an Al Karīm.
Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad brought the copy of Al Qur’an Al Karīm and gave it to Al Saåīdah Al Wājid.
She still couldn’t believe her Bhābhījān, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, was now the Chairperson of Islamic Chamber of Commerce.
The more Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad hated her Bhābhījān, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, the more Al Jalāl Al Tayyab progressed.
Allah, won’t she ever be punished for what she had done to Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad’s ever loving, ever careful, real elder brother?
Al Zubaydah Al Muħammad found herself still standing next to Al Saåīdah Al Wājid.
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid leaned against the high backed leather chair bearing the tiny brass nameplate:
‘Vice President, Islamic Chamber of Commerce’.
No, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid wasn’t herself Vice President, Islamic Chamber of Commerce.
It was Muħammad Ůsmān still now.
A gambler, a criminal, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid grimaced.
She still could not believe they let it happen.
Allah, how these miracles are taking place after all?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has successfully established Democracy in Saåūdī Årab.
The entire Muslim World couldn’t stop her.
Her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was too shrewd to be defeated by even entire Muslim World.
Entire Non-Muslims supported him, despite his daughter’s so arrogant behavior with the Non Muslimahs.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan openly wanted to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Chapter 10
—————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Yacht: 3
Posted: December 19, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentMidterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
Chapter 3
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb
LGBT
Durgesh Al Jalāl Al Tayyab
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb controlled himself.
“I’ve got to know whether or not Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was here talking with you.”
I smiled.
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.”
“Well?”
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.”
“Why not?”
“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.”
“What?”
“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.”
“I see.”
“Don’t you know Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is an ardent utmost active member of Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?”
“Oh,”
“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?”
“Your helplessness.”
“What?”
“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.
“What’s that?”
I looked at her in disbelief.
“You haven’t watched Basic Instinct?”
“Should I?”
“It stars Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone and it’s a classic. Well to me it is.”
“Huh. Okay.”
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.
I smiled.
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?
“Durgesh?”
“Yes?”
“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.”
“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…
Chapter 4
———————————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Yacht: 1
Posted: November 16, 2013 Filed under: Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, Al Kħadījah Al Aslam, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement, Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah, Durgesh, Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam Leave a commentMidterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
Chapter 1
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Durgesh Al Jalāl Al Tayyab
Durgesh Al Hilāl Al Tayyab
Durgesh Al Kħadījah Al Aslam
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan could not believe her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, had conspired with Durgesh, against her.
She still couldn’t believe it.
Was Utopian Idealism itself too too powerful that it can turn her own real Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, against her?
She couldn’t believe it.
How the hell can both Durgesh and her Abbū, two utmost brilliant persons she had known ever, can be obsessed to their ever Utopian Idealism to even this extent?
Why are both of them too adamant to understand that Pseudo Musalmīn are not evolved to intrinsic humanity even?
It’s not against humanity to humiliate and cuckold them openly.
Hinduism/Ved says:
‘Imām nārīm sukr’té dadhāt.”
‘Bear this woman to a man that does good deeds.’
Islam says:
‘Good women for good men, bad women for bad men.’
Is a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān woman bad?
If not, and certainly not, how a true Musalmān can bear that she would be married to a Pseudo Musalmān, a munāfiq?
Isn’t it a ridicule, a mockery of her Īmān that she would be married to a munāfiq, instead of a man that’s not a polytheist, al mushrik?
‘Wa lā tunkiħū al mushrikīn ħattā yu’minū.’
‘And do not marry polytheist men, until they bring Īmān.’
̶ Al Qur’an Al Karīm: 2|221*
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab walked past an extremely beautiful girl that wore Arabian dress.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was controlling herself yet her eyes showed just a trace of panic.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab admonished herself.
Durgesh was more intelligent than her Aunt, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was.
Why worry then?
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā could not go beyond Durgesh.
After her husband, Al Zahīr Al Muħammad, charged her that Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā was having an affair with Durgesh, he almost separated himself from her.
The girl in Arabian dress closed the door.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab selected the ultramodern, high backed, black leather chair.
She sat down on it, crossed her legs, pulled her skirt down over her knees, and sat facing the door.
Durgesh hasn’t come yet.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said Durgesh was fucking her Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab had seven real sisters of her father.
Being all of too beautiful to ignore, it wasn’t any surprise to Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, that Durgesh fucked all of her seven extremely beautiful Buās.
Every one of her seven Buās, had her own separate business.
Most of Musalmān Beauties that were Durgesh’s Live in relationship partners had their own separate business.
There wasn’t anything new.
Even then her youngest Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, was the most successful of them.
Damn it.
The only trouble was, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, didn’t like Al Hilāl Al Tayyab’s ever irresponsible lifestyle.
Yes, her Abbū, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, was a multimillionaire.
But her Buās were billionaires already.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab’s Kħālās were even more beautiful than her Buās.
But they were not as smart as her Buās were.
They didn’t actually hate Durgesh, but they never approved of Durgesh’s Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire even.
“Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah is the natural step for Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan to be taken.” Her youngest Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, had commented, “I can’t believe Imām Muħammad Ħasan could not anticipate it.”
The door opened and I entered there.
“Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā can satisfy you more than even I can. Isn’t it?” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab cooed.
I smiled.
“Sorry, I kept you waiting. But why couldn’t you meet me there? Al Jalāl Al Tayyab knows of our mutual relationship. She never objected.”
“Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā has other things in me to object.”
“Al Jalāl Al Tayyab loves you, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.”
“Start fucking me, and keep it on until we stop discussing what I have to discuss with you of my Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. You have come here after fucking her. You can’t forget favoring her until you don’t feel your Uncut Hindu Lund deepest into some other Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.”
I laughed.
“Nonsense.”*
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab undressed herself.
When she noticed that I wasn’t undressing myself even then, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab undressed me too despite my more than obvious disinclination.
She smiled when she observed my immense erection despite my deliberate noncooperation.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab went on her knees, pulled me behind her, positioned my Uncut Hindu Prick between her ever ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips and pushed her immensely gorgeous and glamorous twenty eight years old, young Musalmān bottom on my Uncut Hindu Prick.
My sixty four years old, immensely experienced Uncut Hindu Prick entered her immensely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Musalmān Cunt.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab smiled.
“Why didn’t you meet me there in your own mansion?” I asked her, fucking Al Hilāl Al Tayyab vehemently, picking the momentum gradually.
“That’s not my mansion, you know.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said gravely, “I only live with my youngest, yet shrewdest Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. It’s her mansion, not mine.”
I didn’t argue with Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.
It was useless.
Even at her twenty eight, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, was a rotten young woman.
I knew her now for ten long years.
I was fifty four when she raped me on her eighteenth birthday.
Her Abbū, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, was alive then.
He was dumbfounded when he himself saw his Just Eighteen Just Adult immeasurably irresponsible daughter, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, raping me.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was shameful somewhat.
“I never knew, Bhāījān, that she always watched us when Durgesh and I made love to each other.”
Al Tayyab Al Muħammad was immensely grave.
“It’s alright, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is not a normal girl. She caught even her Ammī, your Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, raping Durgesh.”
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was startled.
“Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, raping Durgesh?”
“Yes,” Al Tayyab Al Muħammad said, “Your Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, had also seen you when Durgesh was making love to you. She was obsessed with that. You were crazy when Durgesh was making love to you, asking Durgesh to give it to you more and more wildly. You should be more careful when you make love with Durgesh.”
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab smiled cunningly.
She never told her Bhāījān, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, that she deliberately did it when her Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, watched us.
Her Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, had ridiculed Al Jalāl Al Tayyab that she has sex with a Hindu.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wanted her Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, raping Durgesh, so that she could ridicule her Bhābhījān, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, too.*
Despite having me inside her since ten years, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was still not habitual of my Uncut Hindu Cock perfectly.
It grew into her Musalmān Cunt with its every penetration more and more longer, more and more thicker, more and more stronger and more and more powerful.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab always felt something new in its penetrations.
She was not even habitual of my bigness.
It was not actually the bigness of my age or fat.
It was the bigness of my immense power and strength.
My eyes were steady and patient, turned naughty and impish frequently when I fucked her, her Buās and even her Ammī, Al Quddūs Al Nisār.
I was grave only when dealing with the males.
In the presence of fair sex, I was always naughty, impish and dominant ever.
That was why I always attracted female attention to the extent that the females fell for me usually, invariably dreaming of me as their own intimate well-wisher.
Despite I was fucking her now, her dark eyes remained fastened on my ever young ever handsome ever masculine face.
“I need your services as my attorney.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said, “I want to find out about a will.”
“Yes.” I smiled at her penetrating her more vigorously.
“I want to know about a trust provision actually.”
“In this yacht?”
“What’s wrong if we are in a yacht now?”
“Well, nothing if you can’t wait.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Okay,”
“It’s my father’s will. You know I’m his only daughter he remembered in his will. His other daughters were already married and given their share in his property.”
“I know.”
“There’s a lot of money coming to me under that will, something over a hundred million dollars.”
I smiled.
“Congratulations,”
“I need your support,”
“Yes,”
“Abbū didn’t leave the money to me outright,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said, “He left it in a trust.”
“I know.”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab looked at me scrutinizing me.
“My youngest aunt, my Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, is the trustee.”
“Oh, I didn’t know it. She never told me, neither you yourself did it ever before.”
“I never thought it necessary before. There’s a provision in the will that if I marry ever anyone except you, feeling my Live in relationship with you is not enough for me anymore, my aunt, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, has the right, at her option, to give me ten thousand dollars from the trust fund, and to turn the balance, around ninety thousand dollars to Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?” I smiled ironically, “She managed it with numerous Musalmān multimillionaires, surprisingly successfully. I didn’t know she managed it with your Abbū too.”
“My Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, advised me to talk with you. You hate to cuckold anyone.”
I pulled my Uncut Hindu Lund out of her Musalmān Cunt until only its head was inside her.
“Your Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, yeah?”
“I know. My Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, has always criticized you. But she loves me immensely. She praised you, however in this matter. You are not against Musalmīn as your Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, is.”
“Thank Your Kħālā, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid, for at least acknowledging one of my attributes. Your other Kħālās never did even that.”
“I am sorry. They are heavily prejudiced against you.”
“It’s alright,” I said pushing my Uncut Hindu Lund back into her Musalmān Cunt deepest, “I think your Abbū expired somewhat two years ago, didn’t he?”
“That’s right. My Ammī, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, started living in relationship with you since,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab winked at me, “how the hell can you forget?”
I laughed fucking Al Hilāl Al Tayyab more vigorously.
“Under the will,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said, “my aunt, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, controls the trust moneys. She can invest them any way she wants, and she can give me whatever money she thinks I should have. When I am thirty and still Live in relationship with you, my Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, has to give me the principal if she thinks that the possession of such a large sum of money won’t spoil my life. Otherwise, she’s to buy me an annuity of ten thousand dollars a month for life, and give the balance to Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement.”*
I looked at Al Hilāl Al Tayyab gravely.
“Rather an unusual trust provision,” I said, “Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan really does miracles when she wants,”
“You knew my Abbū. He himself was rather an unusual man, and was just a little bit wild.”
“All right. What’s the trouble?”
I never said her Abbū, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, was a practical man.
He understood his youngest daughter, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, perfectly.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab shared his understanding, even more than his wife, Al Quddūs Al Nisār, did.
“My cousin, Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb is facing a peculiar charge.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said.
“Oh,”
“His wife, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, has separated from him charging him that he can’t father a child. Al Navīdah Al Ghaus wants children. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb requested me to marry him and let our son bear his name.”
I smiled ironically.
“So that he can prove Al Navīdah Al Ghaus wrong?”
“Sure, why not?”
“You want to marry Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, even after your ten long years of ever happy Live in relationship with me?”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab smiled.
“Well, it’s not exactly a Live in relationship with you. I never lived with you. You never lived with me. I always lived with my Abbū, instead. Moreover, even after my Abbū’s death, I am living with my youngest paternal aunt, my Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. Isn’t it?”
“Sure, yet your youngest paternal aunt, your Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, is herself my Live in relationship partner now openly. Isn’t she?” I smiled myself too, patiently.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab increased the pace of her back and forth motions of her glorious nude pink Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young bottom.
I myself wanted to fuck her now more wildly.
Yet, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab never had any patience whatsoever.
She always surrendered to her almost every desire whatsoever.
It was a miracle she was a PhD.*
Al Kħadījah Al Aslam looked at me gravely.
“I haven’t another option, Durgesh.”
I looked at Muħammad, Al Kħadījah Al Aslam’s husband.
“You could never make love to your wife?”
“Never.” Muħammad said gravely, “I think basically I am a woman in an ostensibly male body.”
Al Kħadījah Al Aslam looked at Muħammad disapprovingly.
“That’s the problem with Muħammad. He never grew a moustache, he never grew a beard. His body is even an almost feminine body.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has female breasts.”
“What?”
“That’s right. Yet, he has a cut Musalmān nūnī.”
“I see.”
“The entire medical specialists say Muħammad, my husband, can never make love to a woman.”
“Oh,”
“But I noticed his cut Musalmān nūnī stirred always whenever I told him about our premarital sex.”*
Muħammad could not forget.
He should not have surrendered to his Ammī’s wishes ever.
“Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam had thirteen wives simultaneously, Muħammad.” His Ammī, Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah had said.
Muħammad smiled painfully.
“Only because you named me after the ever great name of Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam, you think I can do everything that Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam could? Ammī, you are an utmost successful psychiatrist yourself, yet…”
“I am an utmost successful psychiatrist myself, that’s why I am telling you, you are curable, my son.” His Ammī, Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah had said patiently.
“Isn’t it a fact, Ammī, that you were adamant to make me a qualified doctor so that I can understand my physical problem?”
“You are correct.”
“I am a qualified doctor now, Ammī. Yet, I don’t agree with you. I am basically a female in a masculine body, that’s not actually masculine even fully.”
His Ammī, Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah, controlled herself.
She could not understand how she could explain to him that until and unless he doesn’t stop believing that he is basically a female in a masculine body, he can’t become a male entirely.
Muħammad was her only son.
Despite her constant care to dress him and behave carefully with him as if he was entirely a man with no femininity at all in him, his Ammī, Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah, could not stop him from wearing female dresses when she wasn’t with him.
She could not stop Muħammad, her only son, from deliberately developing a female psychology and a female psychosis consequently.
It helped Muħammad in developing his female breasts.
Despite her constant operations the female breasts, Muħammad had, kept developing every time.
The surgeons had ultimately told her Muħammad himself wanted female breasts, female buttocks and even female genital organ.
It was a miracle for the surgeons Muħammad developed a nūnī despite their entire adverse suspicions.
His Ammī, Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah, never knew, Muħammad asked in his duåās, his religious prayers, female genital organ, instead of the ever worthless cut Musalmān nūnī he had.
He wanted an operation to have it.
But no surgeon wanted to antagonize Muħammad’s Ammī, Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah.
She was utmost resourceful and utmost powerful therefore.
She could destroy the surgeons forever if they operated on Muħammad to the effect.*
I looked at Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.
“If you really want to oblige your cousin, Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, I’d never stop you, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.”
Her face lit up.
She kissed me immense delightedly.
“That’s why we ultramodern Musalmān Beauties love you so much. You are never as possessive as the Musalmīn and even the other Hindus etcetera are.”
I smiled.
“I believe in personal freedom and Democracy. I believe if you don’t want to live with me anymore, you have perfect and absolute right to do so.”
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab kissed me again, now gratefully.
“I know, Durgesh darling. That’s why we ultramodern Musalmān Beauties love you more than anyone else. You are extraordinary lenient with your women.”
“Thank you.”
“The problem is Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā isn’t as lenient as you are.”
“I know. But she is bound to do what her brother, your Abbū, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, wanted from her to do as a trustee.”
“I understand that conditions in a will that prevent a person from marrying can be set aside.” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab pushed her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān bottom once more back, swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Penis into her ever bright ever smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, and squeezed it more contracting her vaginal muscles.
I knew she actually bribed me giving this particular pleasure.
Yet, it wasn’t worthwhile to argue with her.
There are some persons who never understand.
Most of them not even try to.
They are always adamant to let the chips fall on their own insistent manner.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was too one of them.
Why otherwise her Abbū needed to create a trust, instead of making her beneficiary directly?
Chapter 2
——————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies: 1- Of my Musalmān friends-27
Posted: September 4, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Āmnah Saåīd Leave a commentThe Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat
Chapter 27
Actually, by the time I reached age 18, I was having a ball literally.
I had hot and cold running awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī fervent Musalmān girlfriends and even an occasional lady teacher on the side.
On most weekends, I was making more ‘cream-pies’ than the local bakery.
I was never so proud as when, one day, I happened to go to Toys ‘R Us looking for a video game on sale. Attached was the store Babies ‘R Us.
There, shopping for maternity wear and infant clothes were three eighteen year olds: two blonde cheerleaders, one brunette gymnast, plus one hot soccer Ammī /substitute teacher.
All of them had swollen bellies containing a fetus, or two, created by of course, myself, who the hell else?
I had ever ‘done the deed’ even before I turned 18, it all started when I was 4 only.
My ‘Ammī’, Imāmzādī Ħumayrah Qāzī, gave me a weight set for my birthday.
She told me to NOT be like her husband and ‘let myself go’ but to always be in top shape, looking for ‘action’.
I would never forget it; she kissed me.
She’d kissed me before, but this kiss lasted a full minute.
She then told me something from years back: Ammī and her BFF were looking me over in the maternity ward observation room.
They saw me take a toy from another baby boy in the next crib.
When the lady doctor came along to return it, she couldn’t pry it loose.
She had to call another lady doctor; after a struggle of ten minutes, the two of them got the toy back.
Ammī’s BFF said,
“Wow, that’s one strong, virile baby!” Then she noticed something that was peeping out of my clothing, drooping down like a small elephant’s trunk.
She gave my Ammī the elbow and pointed it out.
They both gasped.
Ammī’s friend said:
“Speaking of virility, Allah, my God, you don’t think, I mean it can’t be…it just can’t…”
Well, it WAS, thank you.
Ammī stared into my eyes and then left the room.
I was stunned for a Moment.
Well, I took her advice and would lift weights and other things.
By the age of 18, I had an incredible physique that led to the ‘fun and games’.
Even Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would occasionally watch my outdoor workouts from the kitchen.
Little did I know that her nipples popped as she did.
By the end of my workouts, I’d be gasping for breath as was Al Āmnah Al Saåīd; her nipples would be fully erect, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sopping wet.
If only I had known: I could have sat in the kitchen, my deliriously sexy Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would’ve sauntered over and placed the slavering lips of that treasured Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot over my uncut rough Hindu cockhead.
I could just imagine her sliding down upon it till she hit bottom.
My youthful but powerful arms would’ve gripped her excellent Musalmān bum, thoroughly plump and rounded by her Panjvaqtah Namāzes, and used her like I was jacking it.
At the climactic Moment, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would’ve looked to the ceiling, moaning in orgasmic ecstasy as my youthful, innocent Uncut Hindu Lund swelled with power before unleashing a hurricane of my Hindu cum inside of her.
Just after that, she would’ve dropped into my lap like a spent rag doll.
Our lips would have met in a passionate kiss before she embraced me.
Trying to recover, she would’ve whispered something into my ear.
It might have been how much bigger I was than her ‘old man’, or maybe that we ‘shouldn’t have done that; I’m not on the pill, you know.’
Well, it was good that I didn’t think of that; I don’t think her husband would’ve understood me having to take Al Āmnah Al Saåīd to Babies ‘R Us to shop for maternity fashions.
I always wondered why Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, stayed together.
Her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, had been, I am told, a good looking guy when they wed years ago.
Then it happened: he lost his hair.
Almost overnight, he lost 95% of his hair and with it his confidence, bravado, and potency.
Later Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would tell me that old fossil’s thing was no longer four inches but now a soft and constant two inches.
My magnificent ten inches of Hindu manhood far exceeded Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s old man’s ‘doodle’ even when mine was relaxed.
I never had the heart to tell her that I had him beat when I was nine years old, or even before that.
Those were the days when Niranjan Sharmā came close to her.
Yet, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd never married Niranjan Sharmā.
She had her own plans.
Niranjan Sharmā was only her for the time being Hindu lover.
Ultimately Al Āmnah Al Saåīd needed someone to have sex with.
Well, why not Niranjan Sharmā, if he was so obsessed with her extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty?
The reason why Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, stayed together was also the reason for the events that were to transpire: a trust and a will.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd knew if she divorced the increasingly decrepit and useless ‘old man’ that she’d be cut out of any subsequent inheritance from his filthy rich wealthy family.
Her attitude was that she had suffered for this long, so why not hang in there till the big payoff.
That was where the twist came in.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ dragged her to the reading of the will.
The last family leader put in the document that Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ would get the whole estate, some $20 million (!), IF AND ONLY IF he created an heir and named it Al Aslam Al Saåīd, the given name of that last family don.
Talk about distrust, the will insisted that the child be genuine, genetically from the family, and not adopted or from a non-family member.
To that end, the child, upon birth, would have DNA matches done; then, and only then, would the law firm be authorized and directed to release funds.
This all led to quite a contrast on one weekend night.
In my little bedroom, which was an attachment to the garage, I was balling my English teacher.
She was a 37 year old soccer Musalmān houselady.
Red hair, green eyes, she had a statuesque figure like those giants from Las Vegas revues.
I was drilling her soundly, MILF or not, married or not.
My ten inch Uncut Hindu Lund was eliciting a sigh, a moan, a gasp, and then a protracted scream.
Finally, I tapped against her cervix, my Uncut Hindu Lundhead lodged deeply inside of her.
I had promised to pull out, as I always did.
I then hoped that she’d get second thoughts, which they usually did.
Sure enough, I felt her legs envelope me and her ankles lock around my thrusting hips.
That was my signal and I came with fierce intensity.
As I swooned, my lips brushing gently her pliant Musalmān lips, we came together, a simultaneous phenomenon.
All the while, my Uncut Hindu Lund was pumping white-hot Hindu liquid relentlessly.*
As always, I didn’t care if she was married, wealthy, or anything else; I just wanted to put my Hindu seed into a warm, tight Musalmān place where it could perform its pollination trick.
While I was scoring big time, in the main house Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, were trying to pull off a miracle.
It was truly pathetic, as Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s bald ‘old man’ was totally impotent.
Later Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would tell me he’d had just enough to do the job before she got pregnant with me.
Then, the ‘bald thing’ happened and his production went from less than normal to a few drips and drops.
That descended even further to the point he was as dry as the Sahara.
That night resulted in getting that hot teacher of mine knocked up, wonderfully pregnant.
In keeping with my stroke of luck, she was the fourteenth Musalmān babe, the fourth married one, to have to shop for baby clothes courtesy of me.
Like the other three married hotties, she’d fool her dumbass Musalmān husband, into thinking it was his own.
Thank heavens!
It was clear that the other married babes realized that suing me for support would be never needed.
I always supported every Musalmān Beauty and every Musalmān houselady if I’ve ever fucked her.
I was not any Arjun that needed a Kr’shñ, even to continue his marital responsibilities to his women he married and left behind.
I was myself my Kr’shñ.*
I visited another sexy Musalmān teacher that I had put in the family way some months before.
I explained to her dumbass Musalmān husband, at the door that I was an old student of hers.
I said I had heard about the baby from the class president and just wanted to give a ‘baby shower’ gift to my teacher advisor.
He was surprised but let me in.
Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad was shocked that I had come over and boldly introduced myself to her short, stocky, county clerk hubby.
We started talking.
All of a sudden and without warning, he said a few curse words and then headed out to the sports bar to watch the game just starting.
When I heard him slam the car door and drive away, my old ‘squeeze’ tried to slap me on the cheek, hard.
I grabbed her by the arm and kissed her.
She struggled for a second and then melted in my strong powerful Hindu arms.
We made out passionately for a long, long time.
She asked why I was there and I told her that I DID want to give her a baby shower present.
I brought over three pregnancy outfits.
She thanked me profusely and we kissed again.
Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad started putting them away when I stopped her.
“Wait, you don’t understand. I want to see them on you. I mean, those are from Frederick’s of Hollywood and I wasn’t sure about the size. Can you, well, humor me?”
She smiled and nodded.
She told me to ‘turn around’.
I did..I always wanted to do this, so I did.
I turned 360 degrees and ended up staring at her.
She thought that was cute and stopped demanding me to turn away.
She undid her eight months pregnant clothes, which were just her normal clothes she adapted, her dumbass Musalmān husband, too cheap to get her nice things.
The first outfit went on.
The bottoms fit around her still firm, beautiful hips, right below the beautiful baby bump.
She caressed the bulge with two loving hands…I rushed over and kissed that Masjid of reproduction before kissing her and returning to my seat.
She then removed her overstuffed bra.
I gasped as her breasts were, well, somehow both enormous and gorgeous.
But most of all, they were big… Eīshān! God, so very big. As she tried to close the top, it just wouldn’t reach.
Her struggles got me so excited…she was too big up top.
After a few Moments of her trying, I said:
“Let’s face it; it won’t fit. I guess I wasted money on that one; lingerie is not returnable. I am so sorry.”
Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad said it wasn’t my fault; how could I know her size.
She felt bad about that and hugged me, thanking me for the effort and asking me if there was anything she could give me?
Well, she was still standing there topless, so I stroked her amazing Musalmān boobs, licking my lips.
She undressed herself and I fucked her once more.
We both were so into it that we didn’t notice that we were being watched.
It turns out the game was an early rout, so her useless hubby had come back home.
Now he found his lissome, hot Musalmān wife fucking some old Hindu student.
What was THAT all about?
Immediately, my favorite pregnant teacher started this wild story that I had a condition that could only be cured by fucking a pregnant Musalmān woman.
It was so absurd that I stopped her.
“The truth is I knocked up your beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife. Apparently, you were not up to the task of satisfying her and I was. Why don’t you just accept it and forget what you saw here today.”
Not surprisingly, that wasn’t his first choice on how to handle this.
As his lovely pregnant wife looked on, he went berserk and charged me.
He was maybe five foot five; he laid into me with punches to the old ‘bread basket’.
I was ready for that.
He stopped when he realized he was just hurting his hands.
I picked him up, kicked him with both of my feet alternatively and lectured him:
“Little man, your three choices are: 1-continue to take credit for the babies, twins, in that beautiful swollen tummy over there, maintaining your standing among your friends…OR…2-you can divorce and abandon this Musalmān lady, with the true facts coming out for everyone to hear.”
“Given the odds of you finding someone even remotely this hot, I think I’d recommend choice number one. Of course there’s always choice number 3,” I put him down and showed him my Uncut Hindu Lund ten inches length of solid steel; his wife cooed and cheered; “I don’t think either of us want to resort to that!”
He literally shook in his boots.
He looked at her, then me, in particular the mighty arms that just held him up like a GI-Joe Doll, and slinked off into the other room, defeated.
After that little confrontation, he never said anything to Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad about our tryst. In fact, I never heard back from him.
Getting back to that night where I knocked up the other teacher while Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, failed miserably at the old ‘in/out in/out’: The OTHER thing that resulted from that night was a fateful decision.
After an hour of them trying and failing to have a modicum of intercourse, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, retired to their respective bedrooms.
Within a half hour, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ was knocking on her door.
“I know you aren’t going to like this, nor will Durgesh. My thinking is that DNA would confirm the lineal ties to that new heir whether it was made by me…OR A SON FROM MY REAL FATHER. The thought of involving him, frankly, makes me ill. I hate the little Hindu scoundrel of yours, especially because he’s always scoring some hot Musalmān babe and doing her brains out in his little fiefdom out there.
“On the other hand, since we are desperate to make an heir, and need one started within 30 days, I think we might find use for that musclebound Hindu freak with his grotesquely oversized Hindu tool. I was afraid to tell you: years ago, that monstrous thing of his ripped the bathing suit and supporter that I lent to him…when he was 15!”
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd turned away from him.
Licking her lips, she didn’t want to let him see that this idea was a dream-come-true for her.
She’d watched me develop over the years, my burgeoning Hindu musculature making her excited more than once.
The idea of that oversized Hindu unit of mine servicing her, with the full intention of putting her in the family way, was scandalous, shameful, and damn exciting.
HER HEAD SPINNING, AL ĀMNAH AL SAÅĪD FLASHED BACK TO TWO INCIDENTS FROM THE PAST WHERE SHE HAD BEEN CONFRONTED WITH HER STUDLY Hindu’s UNMISTAKABLE ‘PHYSICAL ABILITIES’ AND THE BEDROOM ANTICS THAT ENSUED.”
Unknown to me, or her useless hubby for that matter, months before Al Āmnah Al Saåīd had become consumed wondering what DID go on in my little room with that endless line of extremely beautiful Musalmān female ‘visitors’.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd remembered something from years back and ran to the attic.
Sure enough, there it was: a baby monitor.
When I was out, she secreted the monitor in my room.
Thereafter on any date nights when her useless hubby was out on an errand, she’d listen in to the ‘goings on’.
What she did as she heard the moans of pleasure coming from my ‘house guests’ I don’t know; I did see once that Al Āmnah Al Saåīd had a ‘little friend’ in the drawer by her bed.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was always too embarrassed to tell me, even years later.
She did make me pick up batteries though, until I bought her a battery recharger.
Another recollection: my gorgeous Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was at the tiny local hospital picking up some medicine for her fragile Musalmān hubby when she chanced upon meeting me.
“Durgesh, what in the world are you doing here?”
“To be honest, I wanted to see the babies in the maternity ward observation room. I remember that wild night on my 18th birthday when I went from a party to another party and then hung out with six high school senior awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī fervent Musalmān girls having their last sleepover.”
“I pumped a lot of my Hindu seed into a lot of tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot..oops, sorry Al Āmnah Al Saåīd…I had relations with some wonderful Musalmān women after a proper period of getting to know them. Anyway, I wondered if any of them had gotten knocked up. With this being nine months later, I just had to come and see.”
I grabbed Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s hand, her other hand holding the prescription, and dragged her into the elevator to the third floor.
There they were in the tiny observation room: ten babies.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd asked incredulously:
“Are ALL of those yours!?”
I smiled only.
Just then, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd remembered that she had made a list of the people that were allowed to get through to me if Al Āmnah Al Saåīd received a call, e-mail, or message.
The list had eight, over 18 year old, awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī fervent Musalmān girls and two adult teachers’ names.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd called them off and I eventually linked every baby to a name on that honor list.
All ten: every one of the babies in that tiny hospital was my doing.
When Al Āmnah Al Saåīd realized that, I noticed her nipples had erected, poking through the filmy white blouse she wore.
Her yellow slacks had an embarrassing damp spot too.
She kissed me fiercely, and then broke it off just as abruptly.
She whispered to me:
“If this was a hospital in another city, and I wasn’t worried about risking a $20 million inheritance, I would drag you into one of these semi-private rooms and perform a complete ‘spermectomy’…removing every sperm in those family jewels of yours.”
We kissed again briefly then left.
AL ĀMNAH AL SAÅĪD THOUGHT BACK TO THE HOSPITAL BABY BOOM AND THE BABY MONITOR PEEPING INCIDENTS AS SHE WAS IN SHOCK OVER THE SUGGESTION BY HER ‘OLD MAN’ THAT THE TREASURED DURGESH WAS NOW ALLOWED, EVEN ENCOURAGED, TO MATE WITH HER.
To think that my powerful ten inch long babymaker, the talk of the town at the beauty parlor, would be making a special guest appearance in her fertile Musalmān womb was more than she could take.
With a muted nod, smile, and thumbs up, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd gave her approval to start the ball rolling to found the ‘ Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and Durgesh Baby Factory, Inc.’
At first, he had the reasonable expectation of making a baby in a clinical fashion.
I always wondered about other stories, real or fiction, where infertile couples wanting a child would have the wife sleep with another guy.
Insemination didn’t require that, only stupidity.
Sure enough, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ told me of their needs for a child and then ordered me to fill up a beaker with my ‘essence’.
It was his intention to ‘do the honors’ of injecting it into Al Āmnah Al Saåīd.
What a neat solution it would be, too.
Well, that was a little TOO neat.
It was one thing for me to make babies with a lithe, nubile cheerleader or some oversexed MILF substitute teacher.
There, it was a pleasure making those babies.
But now, I was being asked to coldly provide ‘industrial reproductive fluid’ for a cold, sterile insemination procedure.
There was no way I was going to do that, dude.
I pretended to go along with their idea.
Every morning I would dutifully present that little sample bottle to him with my cum.
They were intentionally tiny samples.
When he protested I asked whether his samples had ever been larger.
He had to admit they hadn’t been.
It was simple genetics, or so I convinced him.
When he put the tiny samples into the baster he intended to use to inject my Hindu seed into Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, it actually coated the baster plastic walls and left absolutely nothing to be injected.
He was frustrated and desperate.
We had 21 days left to start to make the trust deadlines.
He called Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and me together in the living room.
“I have tried everything to get the job done without having to resort to desperate measures. Well, we’re out of time if we want that trust money. So, it is with incredible reluctance that I say: the only way we have a chance is for you two to have sex, copulate freely and often, until Al Āmnah Al Saåīd is pregnant. I hereby authorize and encourage the two of you to have sex. Don’t be shy; do it here, do it now!”
We were both stunned.
Even though I had hoped that this would happen, by giving him tiny fractions of my copious spend for his sample bottles, I still dared not dream that it would come to pass.
To be asked, cajoled, even forced, to breed his own ever faithful extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, trying to get her pregnant, was more than I could imagine.
If you remember the old ‘I Dream of Jeanie’ show starring Barbara Eden, his wife, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, was almost an exact copy: Same beautiful face and fabulous figure. As a matter of fact, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was a tiny bit hotter than Ms. Eden, with bigger boobs and better legs. The dimples over her pert Musalmān bum and her gorgeous smooth feet completed a perfect package…We’re talking hot Al Āmnah Al Saåīd now, myself…
Even though cycles were such that we were wasting our time breeding on most days, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I were nonetheless directed by him to copulate continuously and relentlessly.
For three weeks, we had the strangest home in all of America.
While we were at home, he demanded that we remain nude at all times.
Furthermore, the Moment that my ‘batteries were re-charged’ after the prior love session I was to call for Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and do her immediately.
This really was becoming ridiculous.
At the breakfast table, he calmly downed waffles and bacon while in the next seat his own Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wife was going up and down on a seated Hindu stud.
My ten inch long steel-hard Uncut Hindu Lund was sliding in and out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, the rough Uncut Hindu Lundhead driving her crazy dragging itself against her tingling Musalmān vaginal walls.
My Hindu manhood scraped against those cloying walls as the insipid morning news shows blathered on.
Chapter 28
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Indexes: Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh
Posted: July 15, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Åāýéshah Siddīqah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Creative adult sex in Hindi, Creative adult sex in Urdu, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, incest, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl 15 CommentsIndexes: Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh
1. Ahal-Al Bayt
3.Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire
4.Durgesh Åāyeshah Siddīqah: Social Service
5. The Extent: Cuckold Your Musalmān husband
8. The Stunning Musalmān houseladies
10. Midterm 2012
11. Kħātūn-e-Jannat
12.Ved Nagar
13. The Yacht
14. The Audacity
16. Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh
17. Årab Mahā Bhārat: Index: 1/22
18. The Chairman
19. The Oath
20. Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind
21. Majājī Kħudā
24.Two Young Musalmān Beauties
37. Ammi, you too?
39. It’s better now, in this way
40. The game played, in our own way
43. Thank you that you cheated her
46. Yūsuf or Kr’shñ?
————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
AHAL-AL BAYT-36
Posted: July 15, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Fātimah Al Zohrah, Al Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Muħammad Al Saiyad Al Åbdullāh Al Hāshmī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumayrah Qāzī, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī, Muħammad's Cuckold Upbringing, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ummil Mominīnīn, Zaynab Leave a commentChapter 36
Blasphemy
Durgesh Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD
Durgesh Al Kħadījah Al Tāhirah
Muħammad would never mind it
I ordered Muħammad to sit and watch us, while I fucked Muħammad’s wife in his own bedroom.
“We’ll be done in a couple of hours, and I expect it to be written after that.” I smiled at him fucking his wife.
I hated to cuckold any one.
But Kħadījah was adamant to cuckold Muħammad.
“He is not any Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam.” Kħadījah constricted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund, furiously, “Neither I am any Ummil Mominīnīn Ħazrat Kħadījah Al Tāhirah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā. We are only named after them. Why the hell your ever adept ever infinite Hindu lust to fuck us Musalmān Beauties and us awfully lovely Musalmān houseladies perfectly, suddenly starts to diminish whenever you fuck any Musalmān houselady who is named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt? It’s not blasphemy to fuck them. After all, they too have cunts. They need a competent Uncut Hindu Lund into them. You are NOT disgracing the entire Musalmān community by fucking them, as the idiots Pseudo Musalmīn claim notoriously. What the hell they want to say? If you won’t fuck us, none would? And it wouldn’t be any blasphemy if someone else would fuck us?”
I smiled.
I wanted to pull out my Uncut Hindu Lund to push in back again, but Kħadījah wrapped her thighs around my waist.
“Please, not now,”
“Kħadījah,”
“Muħammad could never fill me as you always do.”
I smiled,
“Okay.”
Muħammad smiled too.
“I’m not Durgesh, Kħadījah, neither I can ever be. Just enjoy him, and forget me.”
“I think, Kħadījah,” I said gravely, keeping my Uncut Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt fully embedded, “it was also a matter of blasphemy for him.”
Muħammad beamed suddenly,
“That’s right. You have pointed it exactly. How the hell did you know? I’ve never told it to anyone. It’s my closely guarded secret I wanted to die with.”
Kħadījah grimaced.
“What is secret there? Most of the Musalmīn are too afraid of blasphemy. They can’t fuck any woman who is named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt. They are just horrified. According to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s recent survey most of the Musalmīn who are losing their manly vigor with their ever competent Musalmān wives are the husbands of the Musalmān houseladies that are named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt. They are even afraid of divorcing or cheating them. They resort to masturbating consequently. Among Durgesh’s Musalmān Live in relationship partners, most of them are named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt. Even among the other Musalmān houseladies who are not as lucky as to get Durgesh to get satisfied sexually optimum, and forced to have extramarital relations with other competent Hindus therefore, most of the Musalmān houseladies are named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt.”*
There I was, receiving my trophy once more with honors and championship standing on the love makers team.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, Muħammad’s Ammī, smiling proudly from the fleet of chairs in the huge Stadium and pointing the camcorder at me, waving as I smiled back at her.
That was no surprise.
After my own Ammī Ħuzūr and Imāmzādī Ħumayrah Qāzī, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD’s
Gestapo like dedication to my championship was hugely responsible for my trophy.
But the empty chair beside her was a surprise to her, alright.
Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī wasn’t the best father in law in the world, nor the best husband going by some of Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, Muħammad’s Ammī’s shouted accusations the past few years, but this was way beneath even his style.
I figured there was a good reason.
I was right.
The day after, after the prom and the ensuing party with my friends that ended with me screwing the hell out of my awfully stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah etcetera, in the back of my Hummer, my surprise was deepened.
I woke up and came down for breakfast, being told then by Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD that there was still no word from him.
Muħammad had already left the home in protest of me fucking one by one every extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houselady, not only living there, but even came there any time.
“I am not Muħammad Åbdullah.” Muħammad Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī flared, “My sisters are not either nudists or feminists.”
“But they are adults.” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD said curtly to her only son.
“Ammī,” Muħammad was angrier now, “Do you also enjoy Durgesh’s unique legendary Hindu sex kicks as most of our other friends’ Ammīs do? Are even you not loyal to Abbū?”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD slapped Muħammad.
Muħammad marched out of there in immense wrath.
I stayed home and, using the phone, excused myself from the day’s planned activities with my subordinates to wait and experience a new kind of worrying with her.
At three o’clock, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD called his office and that’s when they got to be surprised because, as far as they knew, he’d been on vacation for a week.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD didn’t explain before she thanked them and hung up, turning to stare at me with a blank expression before she told me what they’d said.
It wasn’t as if Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī wasn’t always gone, but when he did leave on his frequent business trips, he usually let us know, even if it was his secretary calling from the office after he’d already left for the airport.
This was different.
He’d missed my trophy without so much as a message, but beyond that it just felt different.
Looking back, I may have just been reacting to how Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD seemed about it.
Two detectives visited us the very next day.
We feared the worst, as anybody would, my first experience in the true art of fretting coming to a head as Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD invited them in.
Well, we couldn’t have imagined what they’d tell us.
We both just sat there, stunned and speechless at the news that dear ol’ Dad had disappeared, presumably having fled the country, just ahead of a lot of “very serious fraud charges”.
They also informed us that we were now being investigated in order to ascertain whether or not we were involved.
Just over a month later, by the time the Vancouver Police and the RCMP were done with us, we realized that the term, “very serious fraud charges”, was a terrific understatement.
If there was any doubt, it was cleared up as we stood in front of what was once her beautiful home while watching the locksmith change the locks on the front door.
We each had a suitcase, the clothes on our backs and one thousand Dollars Cash that Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD had stashed somewhere in the house in case of emergency.
This seemed to qualify, alright.
At the time, I could only Mumble, “Fuck.”
She didn’t even bother to give me flack for my language.
She was too worried to pay any attention to it.*
Soon I was actually stepping off a city bus with Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, Muħammad’s Ammī, at a place called King Square in the Maritime city of Saint John, clear across the country from where we started.
She refused to have any financial help from me.
I argued with her immensely.
Yet, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD was adamant.
She said I should not ‘screw’, yes this was the word she used involuntarily, I should not ‘screw’ her self respect.
I decided to wait and explain its urgency once again at a more suitable time, but as soon as it was possible.
Sālī didn’t think I owed even something in return for what she had done for me.
She had even left her only son to support my twenty four hours sex sessions with Muħammad’s tremendously lovely Musalmān houseladies.
She argued we all were adults.
Muħammad didn’t have any right to object on our consensual sex sessions even however kinkiest they may be.
I felt sorry for her, for her negative thinking at least, standing there in her slightly snug, black casual slacks and light purple pullover with a short V-neck.
She never looked her age, sometimes appearing as much as ten years younger with long blonde hair, hazel eyes and six inches shorter than me.
Both of us were feeling three feet shorter after the public nightmare we’d just somehow survived.
There was really no resemblance to the people we were just over a month ago.
I could have settled it all but her son Muħammad had commented to the media,
“I don’t think my Ammī has anything to do with it. The fraud charges against my Abbū are baseless. Abbū saw Durgesh fucking my Ammī. He could not bear it. He left the house. I myself similarly did it because I could not to watch my friend, Durgesh, fucking my entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies.”
The media asked the question,
“Are you worried for the future of your Ammī?”
“Are you crazy? Durgesh is the multi zillionaire. My Ammī is nympho maniac. She herself encouraged our every beautiful Musalmān houselady to seduce Durgesh, so that Durgesh would never leave the house. My Ammī is prudent enough to secure her future with Durgesh. I am worrying instead about your future.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you keep asking such insulting questions to my Ammī and Durgesh, Durgesh would see that your future must be taken care of not to be secured even a bit. Allah Miyan and Durgesh are almighties. Both when destroy their enemies, no one can even surmise it.”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD refused to sign the papers for defamation of character against her only son.
She looked around herself, both hands protectively clutching her suitcase to her thighs as a man who looked like he’d just been thrice run over by a car ambled by, looking at her large boobs and soft, curvy heavy big hips.
I was worried for both of us, but more for her.
She really didn’t seem to be adjusting since that day we watched the locksmith at work.
When Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī was gone at work, away on a business trip or whatever, there was never any doubt as to who was in charge and I never once ever heard her say anything alike,
“You just wait ’till your father in law gets home!”
She never felt there was any need for waiting.*
Last evening my friend Muħammad’s wife came into the den and informed Muħammad that she had discovered his collection of Penthouse letters magazine.
She was very upset and questioned why Muħammad needed outside stimulation.
Zaynab wanted to know what exactly was the turn-on that the stories provided.
Muħammad was too surprised to lie.
He immediately told her that he gets a real kick out of the Musalmīn sharing their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives with Durgesh/Some Hindu(s) stories.
In fact, Muħammad found them extremely erotic.
Zaynab was shocked,
“Allah, Muħammad, you mean…you mean if I fuck Durgesh you’d love me more?”
Muħammad looked at her gravely.
“My Ammī, Āmnah Åbdullah does it for me. My Kħālās do it for me. My Buās do it for me. My Mumānīs, my Chachīs do it for me, why the hell can’t you? Aren’t you my wife?”
Zaynab was dumbfounded.
“Your entire Musalmān houseladies do it for you? Allah, I can’t believe it.”
Muħammad softened somewhat,
“Well, I should have told you it before we married. I am sorry.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it, but…”
“I am not brought up normally, as the other Musalmīn are.”
Zaynab looked at her husband,
“I could not understand.”
“My Abbū was a terrorist.”
“Oh,”
“Durgesh fucked my Ammī in front of my Abbū. Kħadījah Muħammad cuckolded him to my Ammī and Durgesh. She made my Abbū to hold Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund and position it between my Ammī’s Pussy lips. He was compelled to request Durgesh to fuck my Ammī, because he couldn’t fuck his wife. He was a terrorist and every terrorist is impotent.”
“I see.” Zaynab said gravely.
“My Abbū was made to clean my Ammī’s ardent Musalmān Cunt and ass licking them, after Durgesh fucked them. I was too small to understand it was a punishment to my Abbū. I thought it was natural. I too licked my Ammī’s Musalmān Cunt and ass.”
“Allah,” Zaynab said, “Allah!”
“Once my cut Musalmān nūnī got an erection involuntarily. My Ammī hit me there in wrath. It never gets any erection now.”
“What?” Zaynab almost jumped.
“That’s why I always use my fingers and tongue to satisfy you. Even in our Golden night, I didn’t enter you, because I couldn’t. I can’t ever. Sorry.”
Muħammad’s eyes were suddenly full of tears.
Zaynab was startled.
She could never believe, it was true.
She let Muħammad weep as much as he did.
She could not help Muħammad.
She had no alternative.*
Ultimately, Zaynab decided to read some of the stories before passing her own judgment.
Muħammad went out in the garage and found an issue about a Musalmān that had his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife fuck Durgesh then come home and tell him about it while he licked her Musalmān Cunt and ass.
“Is this what you need?” Zaynab asked Muħammad.
“That’s what I need.” Muħammad said gravely, “uh, yes”
“What if I did it, would that turn you on?”
“I don’t think so, but I can enjoy licking your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt and ass after that.”, Muħammad was getting hard as they discussed it.
Muħammad was himself surprised incredibly.
“I don’t think you would like it if I were really going to do it.” Zaynab said, but suddenly she saw Muħammad having an erection.
Zaynab jumped,
“Allah, Oh, my God, Muħammad, you’re getting hard, aren’t you?”
Muħammad couldn’t hide it.
His cut Musalmān nūnī was as stiff as a board.
“OK buddy, let’s discuss this in the bedroom.”*
Muħammad’s wife, Zaynab, was drop dead gorgeous.
She is 28 years old, long brown hair, an absolutely beautiful face and a body to kill for.
She looked even 10 years younger than she was, Just Eighteen Just Adult, and had no trouble attracting me.
She also knew that she was desirable because other I was always commenting to her about her qualities.
Zaynab and Muħammad went up to Zaynab and Muħammad’s bedroom.
Zaynab turned to Muħammad and said,
“So, you want me to fuck Durgesh and bring Durgesh’s Hindu cum filled my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt home for you. Is that what you are saying?”
“Well, yes, I guess.”
“Do you know what you’re asking. That could really screw up our marriage. I’ve never cheated on you and I don’t plan to start now.”
“It isn’t cheating if we both agree to it.”
“Are you telling me that you want me to go out, fuck Durgesh and allow him to cum in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, what if I get pregnant?”
“It’s a chance we’d have to take.” Muħammad said gravely, “Moreover, most of the Musalmīn now, are having actually Durgesh’s sons from their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives and call them their own sons. Why can’t we do it, too?”
“You’re Okay with that? What if I like Durgesh myself very much and want to continue.”
“As long as you don’t cut me off, it would be exciting.”
“Allah, I can’t believe it ever, Muħammad. It must be a nightmare, I say.”
“Nonsense, it’s the truth.” Muħammad said gravely,aggressively even strongly, “The cold and hard truth. I was not brought up normally. I told you.”
“Okay. It’s alright, if you say so. Let me get this straight. You want me to go fuck Durgesh, come home to you with his Hindu cum still inside my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt so you can lick me and feel my used Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt while I tell you about Durgesh’s and my fuck sessions.”
“Yeah, I find it very erotic.”
“Just remember, you asked for it.”
This morning after breakfast Zaynab inquired,
“Have you changed your mind yet, or, am I free to fuck Durgesh today?”
“Go for it,” was all Muħammad could say.
She left for ‘work’ dressed to kill.
Muħammad got home from work around 5 PM as usual but Zaynab wasn’t home yet, which was rather odd, because she got off at 3:30 and usually beat Muħammad home.
About 5:30 she called from her cell phone and told Muħammad,
“Honey, don’t wait up for me, I’m going to fulfill your fantasy tonight, I’ll wake you and tell you about it when I get there. Muħammad, I will be very wet and full of Durgesh’s Hindu cum, you better not be upset because it was your idea.”
Muħammad ate dinner and watched TV until 11 PM.
Muħammad couldn’t get the thought of her fucking Durgesh out of his mind.
He kept thinking about jacking off but Muħammad wanted to be fully loaded for her when she came home.
May be he could too fuck Zaynab, his own wife, after licking her Durgesh’s Hindu cum filled Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt and ass.
Muħammad resisted the urge.
He finally went to bed.
At 1:25 Zaynab got home.
Muħammad remembered hearing her car pull in the drive.
Shortly thereafter, Muħammad heard her come in the house.
Zaynab worked her way to Zaynab and Muħammad’s bedroom and switched on the lamp next to her side of the bed.
With that she reached over and patted Muħammad on the shoulder.
“Come on, you can’t be asleep knowing what I have been doing. Look at your well used Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife. I have Durgesh’s Hindu cum in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, I also have it in my mouth and in my absolutely gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass. Is this what you wanted?”
With that she spread her legs and placed Muħammad’s hand on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“Durgesh came inside me”, Zaynab smiled proudly, “And, he came a lot all the three times.”
She smeared my Hindu cum on Muħammad’s hand as she crawled across him and placed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt above Muħammad’s ever ravenous open Musalmān mouth.
“Would you like to feel my wet, fucked Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt?” she asked as she lowered herself down his mouth.
She felt so warm and slippery that Muħammad could barely feel her.
“Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund is bigger than yours,” Zaynab winked at Muħammad, “it really filled my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt. I loved it when he came inside me, Muħammad, I could feel it pulsing and squirting, it was fantastic. I rode Durgesh bareback so you could have me still wet. I just hope you like it because if I get pregnant you will have to claim the baby. You will be a cuckold and you will know it.”
Muħammad was licking her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt as passionately as he had in years. Muħammad could feel my Hindu cum filling his mouth, throat and stomach ultimately as he licked and tongue fucked his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Zaynab.
“So, do you like my used Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt,” she inquired. “I hope so because I plan to fuck Durgesh regularly in the future. It really was fun to feel Durgesh’s legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and into my gorgeous Musalmān ass too. I think I’m going to love doing it for you very very much quite often.”
Muħammad erupted with the best orgasm of his life as she said that.
Afterward, they talked.
Zaynab and Muħammad both agreed that this was definitely an erotic experience that they both enjoyed tremendously.
Now Zaynab was free to fuck me whenever she desired as long as she shared it with Muħammad afterward.
According to Muħammad, if you’ve never tried this lifestyle, you don’t know what the hell you’re missing. It is most definitely a turn-on to have your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife fuck Durgesh and you lick her well fucked Musalmān Cunt after it. There is nothing as fulfilling as licking your Musalmān wife’s ardent Musalmān Cunt, a freshly fucked Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Well, that’s what Muħammad thinks.
You are free to disagree with him if you do.
Muħammad would never mind it.
Chapter 37
—————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
VED NAGAR: 61
Posted: July 14, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Adult Science Fiction, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Kubrā Al Qur’an, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī Creations, Behavioural Science, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Padminī Bhārgav, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 61
Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Musalmān houseladies
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs drove around the corner, backed up in a driveway, turned the car, came back to place it against the curb, and switched off the motor.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt once more and looked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Why the hell doesn’t Al Nadīm Al Quddūs divorce her?
Can’t he understand Al Safiyah Al Ghaus would never come back to him now?
Is he one of the damn fools enough that can adjust with their cuckolding even, because they can’t manage to separate and antagonize their extremely beautiful ever smart richer Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife?
Most of the Musalmīn are managing now with their cuckold status to their Musalmān wives and Durgesh/their Musalmān wives’ Hindu lover(s).
Why?
Because their Musalmān wives can blackmail them now successfully more than they could before?
Because their Musalmān wives are now richer and more resourceful than their cuckold Musalmān husbands, and their cuckold Musalmān husbands can’t win them in any way?
She controlled however herself and smiled at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“I’ll give it to you in a nutshell, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. You can figure what must have happened. In the first place, my brother in law, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, was so afraid of us…”
“Us?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said scornfully, “So afraid of us? Never.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him,
“He was.” She said, “He was so afraid of me, at least, that despite Durgesh’s every assurance, he never agreed to continue as it was. Neither he wanted even his son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, to stay where I could reach or watch him.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at me, then he looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus again,
“Your new husband, Durgesh, planned it all?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wanted to humiliate Al Safiyah Al Ghaus by calling me her new husband.
But she was Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, too far inaccessible to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
She cooed, instead of feeling humiliated.
“Thanks for calling Durgesh my new husband. I love it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs gritted through his teeth.
“You are right.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled energetically, “Durgesh had everything all planned, down to the smallest detail. He had even instructed Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim not to sneak any of their clothes out of the house so they could have a dry change.”
“Why?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked bitterly.
“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus winked at him, “because both of them were insured and the insurance companies were going to make a thorough investigation.”
“Even if they pin it on Al Zohrah Al Bittol and Al Taufīq Al Fatimah?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her incredulously.
“No matter what they do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying her theory, “The insurance companies are going to look into the thing. A huge amount is involved in both the cases separately. The murder stories in both the cases are improbable as hell. If in their investigation, they find anything that looks like collusion, conspiracy, their fat will really be in fire.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s this way,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “As far as the police are concerned, they are perfectly willing to make murders out of it. It’s Ved Nagar. The police are managed by Ved Nagar administration already.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed,
“You are forgetting that Ved Nagar isn’t confined to India only. It has infinite levels, both visible and invisible. Every level here is divided rigidly by a horizontal layer of fifty square miles of Hirañý metal, utmost hardest metal ever found by humankind, resting upon some countless steel girdered pillars.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly,
“I am not forgetting anything, my child. Your Ammī, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, wasn’t born yesterday. Just listen to your Ammī and appreciate. The insurance companies have extended their branches everywhere. Haven’t they?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus,
“What do you mean?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim are criminals/criminal minded Musalmīn. They hadn’t acquired their billions through legal means.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said heatedly.
“As if I still care what the damn you do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said acidly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her, but he was too angry to her now, to respond.
“The insurance companies act somewhat different from the police.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said shrewdly, “The police investigate murders while the insurance companies are always afraid of a collusion between husband and wife. In both the cases the wives of the victims are involved. Al Zohrah Al Bittol is Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wife, even if she is on anticipatory bail and the police can’t arrest her. Al Taufīq Al Fatimah has her husband’s duly signed affidavit that she is not responsible for his murder. Someone was implicating her already, deliberately, even when Muħammad bin Qāsim was alive. In fact, there must be some finicky Pseudo Musalmīn who didn’t want her to appear in the porn movies she was adamant to do with Durgesh. She married Muħammad bin Qāsim on that condition. Moreover, it was also a condition that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to direct that porn movie. By staging their fake murders Muħammad bin Qāsim has got rid of making that porn movie for his wife, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, with Durgesh as her leading hero, and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has got rid of to direct it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled,
“I have already written the entire screenplay of the movie and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had already paid me fully for the same.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled bitterly.*
I kept silence.
There was no use in interfering.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying that she had compelled Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim, both, to run away from her ultimately, despite the fact that I was personally helping them.
“The first thing the insurance companies do is to start looking around for collusion.”
It was as if a solo performance for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Even Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t interested in criticizing her any more.
He had realized its futility.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with her.
And apparently it was her victory now that both Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had run away.
She was already the Conservator.
Until now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had won the battle for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus even against me.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was sure it could not be the final.
Durgesh was certainly playing some deep game.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was also worried.
“Our ever cunning Hindu husband can’t be that dumb, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“You are right, Naåīmah,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said worriedly, “Durgesh can’t be that dumb.”*
Neither it was easy to get conservatorship nor to maintain it.’
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was in Durgesh’s Live in relationship now.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had certainly learned how to protect his extremely beautiful niece’s interests.
“I know now that they were schemers.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd told me, “But it’s too late now.”
“Nothing is too late ever.” I pushed my ever utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Cock into Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd’s comparatively too young ardent Musalmān Cunt, “keep your thinking positive always. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim told me everything, yet he slipped somewhere in acting on my scheme exactly as I told him. Otherwise Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could never had been appointed conservator by a court of justice.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd kissed me on my Hindu male lips.
Despite there were so many problems, she was confident now that she was safe.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, her dangerously beautiful step Ammī, had succeeded in blackening her ever pious, ever sacred character before her Abbū’s eyes, but her uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, understood Al Safiyah Al Ghaus very well.
She was a gold digger.
It was soon known that Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā had appointed Al Safiyah Al Ghaus the conservator.
They got their order from Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.
The order appointing Al Safiyah Al Ghaus as conservator for the estate of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was made when Al Safiyah Al Ghaus qualified with a bond with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s help, and immediately proceeded to take charge.
“All right,” I looked at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “I happen to oblige Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s secretary.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled,
“She has her boyfriend cheated? I never knew.”
I smiled cunningly.
“It’s always a matter of impulse, Al Hudā. Her boyfriend couldn’t provide her such a legendary unique sex that I can. She loves her boyfriend very much. They are soon to marry each other too. But on the impulse of the moment, a very single moment, Al Kubrā Al Qur’an found she was absolutely alone with me. She grabbed my Penis. I never refuse to any lady when she needs me to that extent.”
“You fucked Al Kubrā Al Qur’an?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī’s beautiful Musalmān eyes brightened, “wow, I never knew. She always criticizes you.”
“Well,” I kept smiling cunningly at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “There are so many young ladies who keep criticizing me, yet whenever they themselves get a chance, they never miss it. They always fuck me belligerently and then call it only an animal surge. An exception to their normal life. They say I am too greatest a temptation to resist if there’s a chance.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed,
“The bloody ever hypocrite bitches. Never miss any chance to fuck you, yet never equally miss any chance to criticize you too that you must not surrender to every sexual demand from the women on impulse. Hahaha.”
I kept smiling,
“Let them have their own kind of fun, Al Hudā. Ultimately they are not harming me even a bit. Let them fuck me whenever they can, and criticize me when they don’t.”
“You mean they are actually jealous of us, your other lady friends who enjoy sex with you, not clandestinely?”
I tolerated the obvious,
“Al Kubrā Al Qur’an stays in Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s chambers until twelve thirty. Ring her and find out if Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā hasn’t any important appointment at one thirty. I want to see him personally on this conservatorship matter. If he doesn’t have any legal problem to meet, I want to see him personally before he goes on the bench this afternoon. Tell him it’s very important.”*
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā came bustling into his chambers.
“Hello, Durgesh, the greatest…”
“Nonsense,” I smiled.
“Well,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā laughed, “I don’t agree with you. It’s a fact whether you admit it or not, out of your courtesy, that you are the most important person now. The Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act is being opposed by some communal Brāhmañs, being represented by yourself.”
“Cut it,” I raised my hand, “your United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations have snatched away the Swayamvar right of your Brahm Padminīs. You have actually surrendered to Bhr’gu Kālchakrānsh, Bhr’gu time slot, without fighting with it. Padminī Bhārgav hasn’t any right whatsoever…”
“I am a Judge, Durgesh. I am not a law maker. I am only a responsible citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations . If my Creations decides that no Brahm Padminī is any more for anyone except you, it’s all right with me. If I don’t like Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, well, I am free to leave United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. Am I not?”
“Your Brahm Padminī wives…”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand,
“They are not my wives any longer. They are Brahm Jagdambās now, please! Every Brahm Padminī who the heck ever she is, now is your wife constitutionally if she is a citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. If she doesn’t want it, well, she can surrender her citizenship to United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations anytime she damn chooses, anywhere. Nobody is snatching away her Swayamvar right. No, never. I don’t agree with you. I agree with the Constitution of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, as it’s amended to the benefits of its subject.”
I watched him scrutinizing.
“Okay,” I said at length, “I’m sorry to find that you have more faith in my ever communal Bhārgav wife, Padminī Bhārgav, than you have in me.”
“I respect you very much. But sorry, I have my constitutional obligations too.”
“I am surprised. Haven’t you any self-respect that…”
“Enough,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand, “if we don’t have any other subject to discuss, will you please excuse me? I have many cases on my calendar to hear.”
“Okay, let’s discuss a conservatorship case then.” I said patiently, “I think perhaps I’m going to appear before you, in your court, on a contested matter. I don’t want to jeopardize your position or mine by discussing the case itself. Yet, I do want to get some history and, if possible, find out the reasoning back of an order you made in the case.”
“I see. What’s the case?”
“The matter of the Al Muħammad Al Qāsim conservator.”
“Why, I handled that just a couple of days ago.”
“I know you did.” I said gravely.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā looked at me shrewdly,
“You think there is anything wrong with the case?”
I looked at him impassively,
“Let’s not either of us discuss anything except the history, nevertheless, I would appreciate your thinking.”
“I doubt it.”
“I beg your pardon,”
“You never appreciated my thinking on Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.”
“Should we again indulge into…”
“I’ll discuss any guardianship matter anytime,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “In those cases, the Court wants all the information it can get.
“Mind you, I don’t want you to tell me anything you feel should come before me by way of evidence in a contested matter. Nevertheless, I’m certainly willing to tell you how I felt.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s eagerness to hear me in this case, yet not even a bit in Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, made me suddenly all alert.
So, Padminī Bhārgav had played a deeper game this time than I anticipated from her?
She had provided extremely beautiful Musalmān wives to every Brāhmañ that lost his Brahm Padminī wife to me due to Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.
She did it successfully because she did it in collusion with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
They both got advantaged in this way.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had succeeded in deputizing her almost infinite Musalmān agents, ever loyal to her and her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations .
Padminī Bhārgav had found an ever loyal friend in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
The Brāhmañ citizens of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations found ashvinātam sharīr yantrs for them.
They had got rid of their ever dominating Brahm Padminī wives too, for ever, without divorcing and paying any alimony whatsoever to them.
What was the harm in playing law abiding citizens and sacrificing human being too?
Were they not compensated financially too, optimum?
I controlled myself.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā was telling me continuously, *
I was all attention now.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is an old man.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He is confused. There is no question about that, he was incoherent.”
I didn’t contradict him.
It was neither the proper place for it, nor proper time.
It was the only relevant thing now to know about what the legal conspiracy was actually Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was facing only because he wanted to help Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was excited.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He was emotional. Apparently he had made a check for ten million dollars to some young woman who had been living in the house with him.
“When we get a combination like that, we figure that something needs to be done. I appointed a conservator on a temporary basis only, with the statement that the Court would review it at any time any additional facts come up.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā stopped talking and looked at me,
“You feel that you have some other facts?”
“Sure,” I said.
“No problem,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā smiled affably, “The order is subject to review with additional facts. Tomorrow morning at ten too early for you to present your facts?”
“I think not,” I myself smiled.
“I am not going to ask to have Al Muħammad Al Qāsim brought into Court. It may upset him, the Court hearing, I mean. I’ll take a look at any additional facts that are presented and then if I want to amend, suspend, modify the order I made, I’ll do it. That suits you?”
Chapter 62
——————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
DURGESH ÅĀÝÉSHAH SIDDĪQAH: SOCIAL SERVICE: 7
Posted: July 8, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Åāýéshah Siddīqah, Behavioural Science, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, RādhāCharañ Pandit, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Sudhā Pandit Leave a commentChapter 7
Will further discussed
Durgesh Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd
My friend’s Bahū Bégum, daughter in law, Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd, lived in Al Mecca Al Mukarramah.
She recently went through a separation from her husband Salāħuddīn. They were both smart, successful people.
Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd was a corporate lawyer and Salāħuddīn was a software engineer.
They seemed very well matched.
It was a surprise to my friend when she told him they had separated.
“Only Durgesh can save your nikāħ with Salāħuddīn, none else.” my friend, Assaiyad Al Åbdullah, advised his Bahū Bégum, curtly.
He was fed up of both his Bahū Bégum and his son, Salāħuddīn.
They always hated me for I was fucking their entire Musalmān houseladies who were beautiful.
They left Assaiyad Al Åbdullah Mansion even to save their nikāħ.
It was unfortunate they still separated.
“I’d never surrender to that sixty five years old ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.” Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd replied her father in law furiously, “I’m only twenty eight, don’t you know?”
Assaiyad Al Åbdullah watched his beautiful young Bahū Bégum, Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd, contemptuously.
“I know. I know it very well. Your Ammī in law and I were also separated. Yet Durgesh managed to reunite us.”
“And the remuneration?” Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd blazed at her father in law, “Durgesh, the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu is fucking your entire Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful. I don’t want my own Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies to pay the same cost for saving my nikāħ with your ever incompetent son. He is a gentleman but every gentleman is not necessarily a good husband. Your omniscient omnipotent Anant Muslimātchod Hindu friend, Durgesh, and his so called utmost perfect Hinduism is wrong when it says Imām nārīm sukr’té dadhāt. Okay?”
Assaiyad Al Åbdullah argued with her until she didn’t consent at least to discuss it with me.*
Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd invited me to come and keep her company for a week.
I wanted to be a supportive consultant.
I took time off work and booked a flight.
Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd was twenty eight and I was sixty five.
We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.
Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd was the educated, successful one.
She hated me for my sexual relationships with almost entire Musalmān houseladies that were beautiful.
She thought I managed it to satisfy my ever increasing communal Hindu lust for them.
I had broken numerous Musalmān households in her bright opinion, never saved as most of my Musalmān friends believed and claimed always.
She thought I was a communal Hindu scoundrel, because I have been known to see numerous Musalmān girlfriends, Brāhmañ girlfriends, etc. at the same time.
She thought that’s wrong.
She had different ways of getting at me about it.
I decided in advance, I wouldn’t let her get under my skin while staying in her house.
The first night was fine, she picked me up at the airport and we went out for dinner.
We had a few glasses of wine and juice at her house afterwards and went to bed early.
The second night, she cooked dinner at home and that was when she began talking about Salāħuddīn and what went wrong in their nikāħ.
“I thought you two were perfect for each other,” I said, “You seemed so alike, both into your careers, both successful. What happened?”
“It may have seemed that way, Durgesh, but we are really very different people!” she said.
“In what way?” I asked.
“Many ways,” Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd said, “but for instance sex. He wanted it every weekend, like clockwork, because that’s when we have time. Every Friday night, we had to do it whether we wanted to or not. If I didn’t feel like it, he’d say I was frigid. So I started to think, well if you think I’m frigid, I’ll be frigid!”
“So what did you do?” I asked.
“Well, I’m stubborn like that,” I said, “I hate to be put in a box and told what I’m like. Therefore, to get revenge, I acted as if I was less interested in sex. Of course, that drove him crazy.”
“I would feel the same way, Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd” I said, “I need a lot of sex and when my girlfriend says no, I get frustrated.”
“So then I guess you go out and cheat on her, right?” she said sarcastically.
“No!” said, “We talk about it. Sāliħah, my new girlfriend, totally gets it. She told me that if she doesn’t feel like it just to take it, as if even she was asleep. She loves it, instead, when I’m forceful with her.”
“Allah, God!” Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd said, “I don’t believe you! It’s wrong to force a woman to have sex with you. Don’t you know that? It’s called rape!”
“But you’re not listening!” I said, “Sāliħah was the one who suggested it!”
“Well, your Sāliħah is crazier than you are,” Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd said.
She looked at me critically.
“I can’t picture you doing that,” she said, “you’re big and strong and everything, but you just don’t seem like the domineering type. What exactly do you do when you get forceful? Show me!”
She was pissing me off, so I stepped closer to her and pushed her up against the refrigerator.
I had her wrists in my hands before she knew it and I pulled them behind her back.
Now I was against her, and we were both breathing heavily.
Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd had large, natural beautiful young Musalmān breasts.
I felt them against my chest.
I realized I had an erection, and it pressed against her.
I looked in her eyes and said,
“Something like this.”
Then I don’t know what came over her.
Al Nāsirah Al Ħamīd kissed me full on my mouth impulsively, forgetting her constant hate for me, before I let her go.*
Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb migrated to Australia back.
She initially settled in Brisbane.
We’d only been lived in relationship for a week before we caught the boat to Australia, so although we already often enjoyed one another sexually; socially.
Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb’s sweet little daughter, Sudhā Pandit, was born late in Brisbane, Australia.
She was a nicely proportioned, attractive and healthy baby and as she grew up into a toddler, she was tall and active for her age – both Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb and her husband, RādhāCharañ Pandit, were very proud of her.
But being a girl she was naturally drawn to the male side of the family and even as a baby, RādhāCharañ Pandit was obviously her favorite parent, despite her Ammī breast-feeding her and generally looking after her.
Perhaps that sowed the seeds of hate that eventually grew between Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb and RādhāCharañ Pandit.
they’d moved up to Mackay in Northern Queensland – into the tropics, where RādhāCharañ Pandit was to take over a vast sales territory for a national company.
He’d be away from home quite a bit but the money was good and they didn’t consider the consequences of my absences.
It was not their abnormal mistake.
Most of the families were broken due to this very mistake.
A large number of my friends blundered similarly and lost their family, consequently, either this way or that way.
Some of my friends were afraid of losing their children too as well as their beautiful wives.
They opted for something degrading even.
They loved their family even more their self respect.
They allowed their wives to have extramarital affair with me, either clandestinely or openly.
RādhāCharañ Pandit’s work went well enough, but as the years passed, Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb and RādhāCharañ Pandit found that they’d become two totally different people – not really a couple at all.
Increasingly they found themselves to be at loggerheads.
RādhāCharañ Pandit began to find excuses for not coming home.
He engineered extended sales trips that kept RādhāCharañ Pandit away for up to six weeks at a time.
Then he’d come home – spend the weekend sorting out all his paperwork, laundry and post – having a good row or two and then he’d be off again.
His office room soon became his bedroom too – the guest bed was now his.
But much as RādhāCharañ Pandit didn’t really miss Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb, he certainly missed seeing his lovely daughter, Sudhā Pandit, growing up – and she obviously missed her father, RādhāCharañ Pandit.
Every time that RādhāCharañ Pandit came home it seemed that she had grown another couple of inches – she was going to be a tall lady – hopefully she would have a suitable figure to match, one day.
And it seemed that the more Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb and RādhāCharañ Pandit fell out, the closer his daughter Sudhā Pandit and I became.
RādhāCharañ Pandit especially retained me to take care of his beautiful family in his absence.
We certainly seemed to get on well and I don’t mean anything sexual.
It was perfectly platonic primarily.
I mean that we could chatter and laugh together; read books together; go for walks together; play on the beach together – we even had the same interests – we simply got on well together.
And now, at the age of around nine or ten she was developing nicely into a very peasant young Brāhmañ lady who liked nothing more than to be allowed to sit on my lap – even though we’d eventually get all hot and sweaty in that hot climate.
Just to be close together was lovely and somehow, despite her glorious youthful feminine scent I managed to put aside all matters relating to sex, even though I was increasingly uncomfortable through lack of activity at home.
Sudhā Pandit could obviously see how uncomfortable I was – her concern showed in her face.
One day matters came to the surface therefore.
RādhāCharañ Pandit was having a few days off work and Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb had gone out shopping with some friends.
Afterwards they were off to the local pool, so they were making a day of it – probably to keep away from RādhāCharañ Pandit; not that RādhāCharañ Pandit really cared.
Sudhā Pandit and I were alone.
Once we were on our own, we settled down on the sofa so that she could watch some kids’ program on TV.
The sofa was one of those deep soft comfortable types – the kind you sort of sink into.
As usual, Sudhā Pandit jumped onto my lap and leaned back against my chest.
“Durgesh,” she said, her voice full of care, “You don’t get on with Ammī, do you?”
I wondered if I should simply avoid the matter and change the subject but then I realized that Sudhā Pandit had correctly observed our problem, so there was no use in hiding it from her.
“No, darling, your Ammī and I don’t seem to get on,” I said gravely, “We’re just so different nowadays.”
I signed, because the friction between Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb and I, wasn’t very pleasant at times.
Sudhā Pandit continued.
“You sleep in the spare room, don’t you?” asked Sudhā Pandit and I nodded – it was common knowledge.
Well, I wasn’t Al Faraħ Al Ayyūb’s husband after all.
I was only her lover, because RādhāCharañ Pandit wasn’t available to her whenever she needed him.
“Do you get all lonely then?” she asked and I nodded again, smiled too.
“Oh Durgesh,” she replied, squeezing me tight, her voice all broken up, “I don’t like to see you lonely and uncomfortable – it’s not fair!”
“One of those things, I guess,” I said, hugging her back, “Happens everywhere, I think.”
“Yeah but you don’t deserve to be uncomfortable,” replied Sudhā Pandit sagely, “It’s Ammī who deserves to be uncomfortable ‘cos she’s mean and nasty to both of you, my father, RādhāCharañ Pandit, and you too!”*
Chapter 8
——————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 60
Posted: July 7, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Ålī Abī Tālib, Åāyeshah Abī Bakr, Behavioural Science, Bhagwatī Durgā Sinhwāhinī Mahishāsurmardanī, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 60
Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Musalmān houseladies
Durgesh Pārvatī Pāŧhak
Shiv Shankar Sharmā
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched me fucking his wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Hell, why doesn’t he divorce her?
But if he divorces Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, it would turn Al Safiyah Al Ghaus against him, wouldn’t it?
He is a cuckold now.
But he can get rid of his cuckolding easily by divorcing Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Can’t he?
Every cuckold Musalmān husband, cuckolded to his Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife and Durgesh/her Hindu lover(s), utmost easily can get rid of their cuckolding by divorcing his cheating Musalmān wife.
Moreover, is she really Musalmān if she cheats her Musalmān husband?
What is more essential in Islam?
A cheating wife that’s an ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān otherwise?
Or a faithful Musalmān wife even if she isn’t a Panjvaqtah Namāzī?
“Now what?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked, turning the car and going out of the driveway much faster than he had entered. “Do we call on my ex wife Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd?”
“Never.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed constricting her vaginal muscles on the entire length and thickness of my Uncut Hindu Penis, “It’s not a job for us. Certainly not. It’s a job for the police, instead.”
Her gorgeous glamorous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks were resting on my nude Hindu male thighs.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever smart Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes were twinkling with triumphant grace.
“And how do you go about getting the police on the job?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked sarcastically.
He was feeling that his hatred for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was increasing more and more.
The ever unashamed bitch.
“We first try to get more evidence.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus winked at her duly married husband keeping her up and down movements on my Uncut Hindu Penis continued, “If we can get it, we are okay. If we can’t we’ve got to take a chance.”
“How do we get this evidence?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked bitterly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled.
“That’s where our Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement’s already trained members come in.”
“I don’t get it.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said, “What do you think happened?”
“Drive around the corner,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “and we’ll park the car.”
“Your Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement’s already trained members are on the way?”
“They should be here almost any minute now.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus beamed triumphantly.
“Okay.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said.
“Drive around where we can see the front of the apartment house and park the car.”*
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī had just gotten married to Ålī Abī Tālib and they managed to move into Ved Nagar.
All the Musalmān houseladies, including Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī, were extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān housewives.
On the first day her husband left, one housewife-Åāyeshah Abī Bakr-invited her to her home with the rest of the girls-Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī, Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī, and Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī.
“you are in for a real treat. We’re waiting for Durgesh.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī told her.
“Who’s that?” Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī asked smiling cunningly.
Her eyes were twinkling impishly.
Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī explained:
“He is the utmost successful Sex Therapist in the entire human history until now.”
“My sex life is working fine.” said Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī, smiling herself impishly somewhat.
Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī nodded.
“We use him as a gigolo.”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī could not believe it.
“A respectable Musalmān houselady would never use one! Besides, all of you are married!”
They stared at her and in unison retorted,
“so?”
“Spouses should stay faithful!”
The others laughed.
“She is so naïve,”said Åāyeshah Abī Bakr.
She cleared her throat.
“How big is your husband when erect?”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“six inches, which is good enough for me.”
They chuckled and Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“You’ll say that until Durgesh fucks you.”
“Well, I’m staying faithful, so you’ll have to tell me all about it.”
“No, stay!” said Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī.
“Why do you all care? You will still get Durgesh. What difference do I make?”
“We care about you.” said Åāyeshah Abī Bakr. “We don’t think any of the extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies should live without experiencing the big real unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock of Durgesh. Every Musalmān houselady that’s beautiful enough that Durgesh agrees to fuck her, must necessarily enjoy it.”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī did not listen and opened the door. Coincidentally, I was there.
“I see I have a new one.” I turned my head slightly to see the others.
I waved, “Hey Beauties.”
They giggled.
“Hello, Hindu husband of us entire Musalmān Beauties, Hindu Al Buåūlat ul Muslimāt, Welcome, Kħush Āmadīd.”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī told me,
“I am married and staying faithful.”
I took off my shirt.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī was stunned.
Allah! God, was Durgesh hot! A six pack with pecks-I looked like Channing Tatum.
I took off my pants and boxers.
I was erect and twice her husband, Ålī Abī Tālib.
To her own immense surprise, Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī, was so overwhelmed that without any second thought, she took off all of her clothes, revealing her 42DD implants and nice, firm ardent Musalmān ass.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī was reasonably thin and tan.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī’s extremely beautiful exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was open.
“Fuck me.” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī said without even a slightest hesitation.
She was herself surprised on her such an entirely unashamed bluntness.
Yet, the fact was fact after all.
None forced Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī.
Even I never seduced her.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī herself invited me to fuck her.
And I did.
I stuck my big, tan unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock in Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī’s extremely beautiful exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī moaned really hard.
“Far much better than my husband!” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī whispered inadvertently, without even realizing what she was admitting to.
“What about staying faithful?” Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī teased.
“Fuck that!” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī yelled.
She looked at me, “Along with me.”
It was then Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī realized that her husband was not a real man.
Ålī Abī Tālib loved her, and still do, but Ålī Abī Tālib was not a real man.
To be a real man, he must have a six pack, great pecks and muscles, and a big Uncut Hindu Cock!
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī continued to groan until I exploded into her.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī then slid off.
I smiled, kissed Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī passionately and went to Åāyeshah Abī Bakr.
She also had big tits.
She was a 36DD.
Nice ardent Musalmān ass too-again.
She moaned and groaned.
“If only Muħammad was this good!”
I put my face in between her Musalmān tits during most of the fuck.
I then moved to Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī.
She was a 34D, with a nice Musalmān ass.
I fucked her hard, like I did with Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī and Åāyeshah Abī Bakr.
She laughed and moaned.
“Muħammad Ůsmān has got nothing on you!”
I said, politely, smiling,
“No man does, my dear. No husband, fiancee, or boyfriend can outfuck me. I am too hyper sexual for you extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies especially.”
I then went to Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī, who was a 28D.
Her ardent Musalmān ass was about as nice as Ruqayyah Muħammad Hāshmī’s and Åāyeshah Abī Bakr’s.
I went up to her, kissed her extremely beautiful Musalmān face, and thrust my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Cock in her.
She immediately moaned, yelling “You are much better than Muħammad Ůsmān! No doubt.”
I kept fucking her and she kept moaning.
I put my face in between her boobs again.
I then went on to my final, Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī.
She was a 40DD.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī wondered if they all shared the same butt workout, since again, hers looked the same.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī’d show them hers, but she liked to be the best.
Like the rest of them, did not take long for her to reach orgasm.
I kissed her tits.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was in her.
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī wondered how I kept being able to ejaculate without breaks.
When I finished, I put my clothes back on.
“Sorry, Beauties. I’ve to run. I’m meeting some other extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān housewives and giving a recently engaged 20-year-old Musalmān Beauty a wedding present.”
“Your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund?” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī asked rhetorically, entirely unashamed of herself.
“Of course” I said smiling triumphantly and immense proudly.
They put their clothes on too.
“How often do we see Durgesh, the ever greatest the ever best love maker to us Musalmān Beauties and extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies?” Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī eagerly asked.
Zaynab Muħammad Hāshmī responded,
“Daily, of course! We even told our husbands to golf on weekends so they ‘could have their own fun they like more.'”
Kulsūm Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“It is actually so we could have our own fun with Durgesh!”
They all giggled.
When their husbands returned, Ålī Abī Tālib asked,
“How was your first day?”
Fātimah Muħammad Hāshmī said,
“It was great. Right, Beauties?”
They said in unison,
“Right!”
They all giggled at their husbands.
Although they loved their Musalmān husbands, the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān houseladies just had to laugh at their utter ignorance.*
Keeping ahead of her, Shiv Shankar Sharmā quickly climbed the stairs and ducked into the bedroom.
He watched his wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak and me fucking ravenously for more than one month nonstop.
His sacrifice for his Brāhmañ society was now too late to be reversed.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā had lost his brilliant Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, for me for ever.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā switched off the light before she arrived, and pretended to be asleep.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just could not confront her right then.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak slipped into the bedroom, and ducked silently in the bathroom.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took a long shower, and emerged from the steaming bathroom smelling of soap.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak climbed into bed, and pressed her warm body against her Brāhmañ husband, Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
It was more than one month now they hadn’t touched each other.
Durgesh’s ever wild ever passionate Bachhalyā Lund was invading Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt nonstop.
“Well?” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said softly.
“I think he is going to be okay.”
“Did you?”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak paused. “I love you,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied softly, and then: “yes.”
“Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I don’t want you to… not again…” Shiv Shankar Sharmā started to reply, stopping when Shiv Shankar Sharmā started to choke up.
“I know. I know.”
She held Shiv Shankar Sharmā, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā and Pārvatī Pāŧhak fell asleep quickly, both of them completely drained but for different reasons.
The next day, Shiv Shankar Sharmā got up early to go to work.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā could not quite face either Pārvatī Pāŧhak or me yet.
All day at the office, Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s emotions kept fluttering between anger, remorse, sadness, and relief.
He couldn’t get rid of the images of his extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak and me fucking each other as passionately as even he hadn’t fucked her ever.
Had he done the greatest mistake of his life?
His ever faithful Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, never experienced an extramarital relationship with anyone.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was the only man in her extremely sacred Brāhmañ life.
Now, he had compelled her to taste the prohibited fruit.
Was it possible even, Pārvatī Pāŧhak didn’t compare Shiv Shankar Sharmā sexually with Durgesh?
Impossible.
Her ever faithful Brāhmañ body had now tasted a Bachhalyā Lund.
The Bachhalyās have a never ending time cycle with their Bachhalyā Lund in Brāhmañ Cunts.
What if Shiv Shankar Sharmā has initiated the Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī time cycle unknowingly?
As much as Shiv Shankar Sharmā liked me, Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized Shiv Shankar Sharmā was looking forward to my leaving, although Shiv Shankar Sharmā hoped Time would heal the wound.
Since Shiv Shankar Sharmā got to work so early, Shiv Shankar Sharmā was able to leave a bit early, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā decided to leave in Time to miss the rush hour traffic.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā walked into the house tired and distracted, and as Shiv Shankar Sharmā started to walk into the bedroom to change, Shiv Shankar Sharmā saw us on the bed.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s jaw must have hit the floor, Shiv Shankar Sharmā was so surprised.
He backed away immediately, and then stepped forward to take another peek since Shiv Shankar Sharmā could not believe Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s own eyes.
But unfortunately, Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s eyes were not playing tricks on Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was on her back on their bed, her long, lean legs propped up over my shoulders.
I was boning her hard, pounding that huge Bachhalyā Lund into her with fast, deepest Bachhalyā strokes.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak‘s tits were jiggling wildly with the force of our fucking.
We’d obviously been at it for a long Time because we were both covered with sweat.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was moaning softly, a low, throaty, passionate rumble.
Her right hand was down between her legs, frigging her clit wildly.
I was breathing loudly through my mouth, gasping for air as the aerobic workout strained my lungs.
“Oooohhh yeah, Méré Bachhalyā Piyā,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, groaned as her body shook in orgasm.
“I’m cumming too,” I gasped in response as I pounded into her spasmodically before plunging my Bachhalyā Lund all the way in and shooting my Bachhalyā load into her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ womb.
As we came down from our sexual high, I kept sliding my Bachhalyā meat slowly in and out of her wet Pāŧhak Brāhmañ hole.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted her nude Pāŧhak Brāhmañ legs off my nude Bachhalyā shoulders, and let them fall heavily onto the bed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak gazed up at me, glassy eyes, her sweat-coated chest heaving as Pārvatī Pāŧhak caught her breath.
“You are amazing,” I said after a while. “Usually BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs never last so long even with me.”
“Hey Bhagvān! Oh God, Durgesh, Méré Bachhalyā Piyā _you_ are amazing,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied emphatically. “I came five…. oh! Hey Bhagvān, Shiv Shankar Sharmā!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak suddenly exclaimed as Pārvatī Pāŧhak spotted in, her husband, in the doorway.
I tried to spin around to look, but my Bachhalyā Lund was still wedged too deepest inside her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
I had to deliberately extract myself before I could reach for my clothes.
As I spun off her, Pārvatī Pāŧhak wrapped herself in the bed cover.
I grabbed my clothes, smiled at Shiv Shankar Sharmā and said,
“Excuse me,”
and sauntered out the room past Shiv Shankar Sharmā, my big Bachhalyā Lund, anointed heavily with his Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife’s Pāŧhak Brāhmañ cunt juice and my Bachhalyā Vīrý, dangling wetly before me.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt himself immensely disgraced and humiliated.
Yet his soul shouted at him,
‘That’s all the sacrifice for your Brāhmañ community you proposed to your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Shiv Shankar Sharmā? You could bear it with a heavy righteous sacrificial devotion for even more than a month, but not any more? Pārvatī Pāŧhak never even imagined any one else to replace you until you yourself didn’t suggest Durgesh. How the hell your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak is responsible for what you’ve seen now? Aren’t you yourself responsible for it? You sacrificed your Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife to a Bachhalyā Penis for your own Brāhmañ community’s ultimate welfare. Did you not? She has experienced now the heavy nonstop pounding of an ever lustful Bachhalyā Lund into her otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt. How the hell can you expect from her not to crave for the same divine sexual Bachhalyā bliss she was getting nonstop for more than a month Honeymoon of her with Durgesh? It was natural Durgesh and your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, fucked again. It’s you that are behaving irrationally now, not your otherwise ever faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak. Shame on you.’
“Oh Shiv Shankar Sharmā, oh Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak blubbered.
“Goddamn it Pārvatī Pāŧhak, what the fuck are you doing?” Shiv Shankar Sharmā shouted.
“Please Shiv Shankar Sharmā, please don’t be upset. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I just…”
“You just were fucking Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s best Bachhalyā friend behind Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s fucking back,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said cutting her off. “Didn’t you get enough last fucking month plus even?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I didn’t plan it.”
“What the hell does that mean? It’s hard to believe that your legs ended up over his shoulders and his Bachhalyā Lund in your Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot by accident.”
“Please let me explain,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak cried out plaintively.
She was not prepared for it.
It was absolutely a new confrontation Pārvatī Pāŧhak had never faced before.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just sneered at her angrily.
“Durgesh got a second interview. He came home early and told me about it. Well, we popped a bottle of juice, and started celebrating, and well, before we knew it, we were sort of fooling around.”
“Goddammit Pārvatī Pāŧhak, you expect me to …” Shiv Shankar Sharmā paused, Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t know what to say.
“I wanted to stop it, I knew it was wrong, but Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I was so happy, and last month plus seemed to work so well, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I didn’t want to turn Durgesh down now and hurt his Bachhalyā confidence on his new Pāŧhak Brāhmañ beloved sex partner. I mean, that would have made last one month plus mean nothing, and I know how hard this has been for you and our ever gracious Brāhmañ community, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I didn’t want it to be in vain.”
“I… Goddammit Pārvatī Pāŧhak, this is fucking crazy. I told you I didn’t want you to do this anymore.”
“I know, I know,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied.
Seeing that Shiv Shankar Sharmā was calming down somewhat, Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed her panties off the floor and started to slide them on.
As she dropped the bed sheet, Shiv Shankar Sharmā looked between her legs and gasped in shock.
“You shaved your Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot? For Durgesh?!” Shiv Shankar Sharmā had been asking her to do that for years, and she had always refused.
“No, I…” Pārvatī Pāŧhak started, but then realizing the absurdity of any possible defense, Pārvatī Pāŧhak simply admitted it, “yes, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I did.”
“When? This morning? How the fuck can you say this wasn’t planned?”
“No, not this morning. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I did it after Durgesh and I first did it this afternoon. Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I dunno, Durgesh suggested it. It was just an impulse thing.”
“Hey Bhagvān,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā muttered.
“He came home, we had juice, fooled around, I took a shower and shaved, and then Durgesh and I fooled around some more. I’m sorry.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just sat down on the bed and shook his head.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā looked up at Pārvatī Pāŧhak standing next to the bed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked incredibly hot, wearing only a pair of thin panties.
Her chest was still heaving, making her breasts rise and fall in Time with her breaths.
Her large nipples were still erect, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see a growing wet spot in her panties as My copious Bachhalyā seed began leaking from her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took a step toward Shiv Shankar Sharmā and dropped to her knees between Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s legs.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at Shiv Shankar Sharmā, her face still flush, and her hair styled in just-fucked disheveled.
“Please, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, forgive me,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak pleaded as Pārvatī Pāŧhak rested her hands on Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s thighs.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, I don’t know what to say.”
“Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I love you, you know.” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said, tears in her eyes.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak started to run her hands up and down Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s thighs.
To Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s surprise, Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt his Brāhmañ Hindu Penis began to stir.
Hey Bhagvān!
He wasn’t so sexy ever, at least with Pārvatī Pāŧhak, his wife.
It was not a Brāhmañ symptom.
Only Bachhalyās are so sexy.
It wasn’t so unnatural that Durgesh was fucking Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s extremely beautiful extremely faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
The Bachhalyās always fucked BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs shamelessly, in their entire history.
In fact the Bachhalyās were made ab initio to fuck BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs.
Were they not?
Didn’t Lord Bhagvān Parashu Rām massacred the Bachhalyās twenty one times because they refused to stop fucking BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs even while they didn’t surrender to the Bachhalyās?
Pārvatī Pāŧhak moved her hands up, and lowered Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s zipper.
Then without saying a word, Pārvatī Pāŧhak carefully fished Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s Brāhmañ Penis out of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s pants.
“Stop it.” Shiv Shankar Sharmā thundered at her, “Leave me alone at once. Go to Durgesh to satisfy your impious lust. Only Durgesh can give you now what you need.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was stunned.
“Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I… I…”
“Go away.” Shiv Shankar Sharmā shouted, “Fuck Durgesh instead of me. He loves it more. You have forgotten now that you are a sophisticated Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lady after all.”*
Pārvatī Pāŧhak had never imagined Shiv Shankar Sharmā would behave with her so irrationally.
What the hell more she had done with Durgesh today that hadn’t been done already in her one month nonstop Honeymoon with Durgesh?
Yes, despite the fact that Durgesh started fucking her today as soon as Shiv Shankar Sharmā left the house, she was still craving to have Durgesh’s great Bachhalyā Lund into her now ravenous Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt.
Still, she was ready to adjust with Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s Sharmā Brāhmañ penis instead.
But if Shiv Shankar Sharmā himself wants to push her again to his ever sexiest Bachhalyā friend Durgesh, well, what else she herself can do now?
She isn’t responsible initially for the intense craving of her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Cunt for Durgesh’s ever sexiest great Bachhalyā Lund.
It was never there one month plus ago.
It has developed within last one month plus Honeymoon of her with Durgesh.
Well, she never had even imagined it.
It was proposed by Shiv Shankar Sharmā himself.
Wasn’t it?
And now Shiv Shankar Sharmā is trying her to hold responsible for what he himself has initiated?
How?
How the hell she is responsible for it?
How?
So, Shiv Shankar Sharmā now hates her for she obeyed him as a faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife?
What the hell should she have done?
Disobeyed her Brāhmañ husband, Shiv Shankar Sharmā?
He wants now she should get her sexual needs fulfilled from Durgesh instead of from her Brāhmañ husband, Shiv Shankar Sharmā?
Okay.
Only Durgesh would fuck Pārvatī Pāŧhak from now on.
Only Durgesh.
No Shiv Shankar Sharmā ever now any longer.
She herself doubts however now Shiv Shankar Sharmā could satisfy her sexually after Durgesh has fucked her for one month plus.
Durgesh is the ever best love maker.
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.’
That’s what Durgesh’s Musalmān beloveds say.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak thinks now Durgesh’s Musalmān beloveds are entirely correct.
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash’
Pārvatī Pāŧhak agrees with Durgesh’s infinite Musalmān beloveds now.
Nude Pārvatī Pāŧhak stretched herself, smiled cunningly first time in her entire life until now, and stepped to my bedroom.
Goodbye Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
If you want it, get it.
No problem, you cheater, you unjust, you ungrateful.
I hate you myself now.
You have seen Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s faithfulness until now.
Now, you will see Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s punishment to you.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak isn’t a damn fool.
Never.
Until now, Pārvatī Pāŧhak was your faithful wife.
From now on, Pārvatī Pāŧhak is your executioner.
She will see you get punished properly, you cheater, you unjust, you ungrateful.
You are a Rāvañ now, one more, for Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
You have awakened Bhagwatī Durgā Sinhwāhinī Mahishāsurmardanī in Pārvatī Pāŧhak now, unknowingly, erroneously,Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
Never forget Pārvatī Pāŧhak is the real younger sister of Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the real paternal aunt of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Durgesh’s Practical Chief Wife.
Beware, you damn fool.*
Chapter 61
————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 59
Posted: June 21, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd, Dolly Carter, Durgesh, Duryodhan, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Jacqueline Lincoln, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Karñ, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex 2 CommentsVolume 2
Chapter 59
Durgesh Al Nāsirah Al Karīm
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm brought my Uncut Hindu Penis out,
“Any objection?” she asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Certainly not, go ahead. Durgesh is unique in sex. His Uncut Hindu Prick is amazing. It extends in length from six inches to just its double. Incredible. Isn’t it?”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled playing with my Uncut Hindu Prick, entirely unashamed of herself.
“Sure, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“Further, his sexual lust for us Musalmān Beauties, us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, is still more amazing. The more Durgesh fucks us Musalmān Beauties, us Musalmān houseladies, the more his sexual lust for us increases. It never diminishes.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at me in greatest appreciation.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Durgesh has infinite sexual lust actually for us Musalmān Beauties, for us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. It makes Durgesh unique. That’s why we have passed a resolution in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat that Durgesh is a Public Property, at least his legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick is. No one single woman has exclusive sexual rights on Durgesh.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“You must be joking. A resolution? Nonsense.”
“On the contrary,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely, “I’m absolutely serious. I never talk loose about my husband.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was stunned.
She looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan dumbfounded incredulously.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm went down on her knees.
She kissed my Uncut Hindu Prick, licked it, then started to suck it swallowing it into her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
There are some women who don’t lose their beauty even when they grow old.
Instead, they are more and more beautiful when they grow old, with their more increased experiences and resultant sophistication.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was one of them.
She was enjoying now my hardness into her mouth, proudly.
It was the unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis every Musalmān Beauty, every extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houselady, was crazy for.
She was still able to have it while even the Jet Musalmān Beauties were crazy for it.
“Where’s your son?” I asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim.” I said.
“He had to see a man. He promised he’d be back in five minutes.”
Her eyes were smiling at me cunningly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was suddenly all alert.
Allah, has Durgesh successfully helped Muħammad bin Qāsim too to disappear?
She had promised Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to watch on Muħammad bin Qāsim.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could concentrate on Al Muħammad Al Qāsim only.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is claiming she still has Al Muħammad Al Qāsim under surveillance.
But Muħammad bin Qāsim?
Has Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan lost him?
In her over confidence?
“How long have you seen Muħammad bin Qāsim, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked gravely.
“Five minutes ago, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said innocently, “Our party broke when my son received a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said that he had to see a man on some business.”
“I see.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “And what did you do?”
There wasn’t any panic in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s voice whatsoever.
She understood very well, panic in her voice would never help her.
On the contrary, it could spoil her image instead.
Durgesh never cared for any of his woman to the extent to disgrace her Musalmān mankind.
Yes, she and her ever cunning Musalmān girlfriends had always successfully managed to use Durgesh for punishing their ever malevolent Musalmān mankind.
But that was the ultimate limit of Durgesh in helping them.
Even Durgesh’s ever increasing ever infinite sexual lust for Musalmān Beauties and extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, could not compel Durgesh ever to cuckold their ever treacherous Musalmān mankind.
He hated cuckolding anyone.
“They deserve it, Durgesh.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had always argued with him, “Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors claim we can’t destroy Muslim Terrorism successfully until and unless we don’t humiliate terrorists Musalmīn. We can’t make them to see our humane viewpoint even without it.”
“And you think Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right?” I asked mocking at her almost every time she said it to me.
“I know Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan almost every time blazed at me.
She asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm again.
“I asked you what did you do.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled triumphantly.
“Came to my stateroom. I slipped my gown off, because I’d spilled some wine on it. Muħammad bin Qāsim will be back any minute. What’s all the commotion about? The ship’s jumping around. I can hardly stand up, consequently. We haven’t run into anything. Have we? Look, there’s a light over there on the water! Moreover, look at the searchlights!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded gravely.
She watched Al Nāsirah Al Karīm while Al Nāsirah Al Karīm sucked my Uncut Hindu Penis skillfully, smartly.
Allah, was the old sophisticated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm winning over great Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
She couldn’t believe it.
Durgesh is supporting Al Nāsirah Al Karīm against Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Hell, no, never!
Never!!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cooed despite her immense wrath internally.
“I’m particularly interested in finding out about where Muħammad bin Qāsim went and what he did.”
“Why?”
“I heard the sound of a shot. An officer of our ship tells me there’s a man overboard. Does that mean anything to you?”
For a moment Al Nāsirah Al Karīm stared at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with triumphant eyes, then she stopped sucking me.
She undressed herself and me too.
Then she again went to her knees.
“Durgesh, fuck me from my behind, please. Let’s go to my stateroom.”*
I enjoyed fucking Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Nafīsah Salmān, etcetera more because they were in my own age group.
I immediately penetrated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm from her exquisite glorious behind.
Her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks filled my nude Hindu male lap competently as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely.
She smiled at me proudly.
I winked at her fucking her passionately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has now disappeared. They think he has been murdered by Al Zohrah Al Bittol. You are a widow now legally. You can enjoy sex with Durgesh now more freely.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“I was never afraid of my legal Musalmān husband, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. If he didn’t like my extramarital affair with Durgesh, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was always free to divorce me.”
“Legally.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan supplemented.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“You mean not practically?”
“Well, it’s never easy for a billionaire to divorce his Trillionaire Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.”
“That’s not my problem.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm herself started rocking her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bottom on my Uncut Hindu Prick back forth and back.
She was enjoying my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt very much.
Well, who didn’t actually?
Were women more animal than males in this matter?
My experiences with womankind answered my question in the affirmative.
But even then I wasn’t sure of my conclusion.
After all I wasn’t omniscient.
There was always a possibility of mistake.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm crossed to the drawer of a dresser.
She jerked it open.
Then she stood looking down at the empty drawer.
Her ravenous back forth and back movements of her bottom on my rock hard Uncut Hindu Penis had stopped now, swallowing entire my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“What is it?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely.
She was a brave, matured and vastly experienced woman.
It wasn’t easy for her to be startled on every this and that matter.
“My gun,” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “it’s gone.”
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan questioningly.
“I haven’t done anything, my dear Hindu husband of us entire Musalmān Beauties.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan told me innocently widening her extremely beautiful young Musalmān eyes.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I said gravely, “if I found you are responsible for anything of it, even your closest friend, Jacqueline Lincoln, would forget you made her President of USA.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I never knew even you are jealous of my ever closest friendship with Jacqueline Lincoln.”
“Ever close friendship?” I grimaced, “Jacqueline Lincoln is your Karñ, Duryodhan.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was shocked.
“Durgesh!”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan isn’t anybody’s friend, damn it.” I said curtly, “she helped Jacqueline Lincoln to be President of USA so that Jacqueline Lincoln could help her in establishing her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”*
Jacqueline Lincoln never thought she too would be on my ship.
She thought it was not respectful for USA.
Well, even if the rest of the world doesn’t realize now, Ved Nagar has actually replaced USA in leading the entire humanity.
“Mom, I don’t know why the hell had you promised Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle to attend the seminar with me in person.”
Dolly Carter smiled graciously.
“Jacqueline Lincoln, Imām Muħammad Ħasan Bhāījān is my milk shared brother. He has done even more for me than even my own real brothers did.”
“I know.” Jacqueline Lincoln said curtly, “Most of my maternal uncles had left us when we needed them utmost. It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle only that helped us then in our survival.”
Dolly Carter’s eyes lit up with immense pride for her daughter.
“You remember it?”
“Of course I remember it.” Jacqueline Lincoln said, “How can I forget, Mom? It was the period that brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me together. Wasn’t it?”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to say something but I raised my right hand to stop her.
I addressed Al Nāsirah Al Karīm instead.
“You and your son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, were going to have a show down about your brother, Muħammad Ůsmān?”
“That’s what I told you already.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said to me, eyeing Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat suspiciously.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling cunningly realizing and enjoying it very much that the situation was still under her control.
“Did you tell Muħammad bin Qāsim what you wanted to talk him about?” I continued.
“I told my son that I wasn’t going to stand for a lot of vague generalities any longer; that I wanted to know exactly whom else he suspected to poison him if not Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and/or Muħammad Ůsmān. After all poison couldn’t have administered itself to Muħammad bin Qāsim.”
“What did Muħammad bin Qāsim say?”
“He said we’d talk it over later.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm had again started fucking me herself.
“He wouldn’t discuss it then?”
“He deliberately avoided it. Just as we were finishing dinner, a bell robot handed Muħammad bin Qāsim a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he had to see a man on some business. That broke up our little company of mother and son. Muħammad bin Qāsim and I came to my stateroom. I told him I was going to have things out with him, that for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah’s sake I wanted his partnership with my brother Muħammad Ůsmān must dissolve now. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back within five minutes. He simply had to see someone on a matter of the greatest importance for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and himself.”
“There was your gun in that drawer?”
“Of course. That’s why I brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and you here, to confirm whether it’s still there.”
“When did you see it last?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked quite disapprovingly it all.
“This afternoon.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm turned to face Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“It was your gun?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you have it?”
“About two months. It was a new gun I liked very much. I immediately purchased it as soon as I saw it.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“I happen to know that your son has been in touch with Åāyeshah Dåūd, the Doctor. I think Muħammad bin Qāsim has tried to reach some agreement with Åāyeshah Dåūd. I don’t know what she told him. It’s a fine situation for blackmail even while Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd is too respected to go down that much. Do you suppose, madam Trillionaire, your heavily spoiled son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, could have gone to meet Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd taking your gun with him?”
“I don’t know.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said curtly watching Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan contemptuously.
Her still strong vaginal muscles clutched my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“Durgesh darling, I want you to promise me that you’ll stand by me, not with your Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, in this matter. Please, someone already trying to frame Al Taufīq Al Fatimah for poisoning my son.”
I smiled at her.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is sympathetic with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus. However, even then, she isn’t actually your enemy.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan uncertainly.
“Let me ask you some more questions before Muħammad bin Qāsim gets here. Just how much have you told him?”*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, pushed her magnificent nude Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my equally nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick once again entirely into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt and said gravely.
“I told him that Muħammad Ůsmān is of course my younger brother, but he was never a responsible person. My Abbū was fed up of Muħammad Ůsmān’s grossly irresponsible behavior. He never took any interest in our business. Even then he was always after money. I had to help Abbū in his business because Muħammad Ůsmān never understood his duties. Abbū naturally was not good at Muħammad Ůsmān. He willed me his sole beneficiary of his billions.”
“And you proved to be the worthy of his decision.” I said appreciating her, “you made his billions the trillions successfully.”
“Thank you.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was fucking me again passionately, yet gratefully now, “You know I couldn’t do it without your moral support even.”
“I always try to support the worthy ones. It was your own courage, fight and prudence that helped you more. I only helped you where your opponents wanted to swallow you illegally.”
“And you think it isn’t valuable? They could have really swallowed me if they were really not afraid of your ever insurmountable opposition. I owe not only my success, but even my existence to you, Durgesh, my life.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed bitterly.
“He is utmost prudent enough to help only extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress. His ever lustful Uncut Hindu Penis never let him resist against it.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“Well, he deserves the remuneration. Doesn’t he? If he is protecting us extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress as even our Musalmān husbands don’t or can’t, why the hell Durgesh shouldn’t get even what our incompetent Musalmān husbands do?”
“What else you told Muħammad bin Qāsim?” I asked patiently.
Neither of them was understanding the gravity of the situation optimum.
They were wasting very valuable time in teasing each other.
Most of the women do it unconsciously.
Yet I never expected it from as exquisitely prudent women as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Nāsirah Al Karīm were.
“That’s all.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “That’s all I had time to tell him.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was still thinking of success of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus in taking care of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
She prayed Allah that she must also prove she took care of Muħammad bin Qāsim if not more efficiently, at least equally.
“Was that after he received this note, or before?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Afterwards. We, Ammī and son, had left the others and entered my stateroom. I talked to Muħammad bin Qāsim for just a minute or two. Then I stepped into the closet to get out another dress. I heard Muħammad bin Qāsim slam the door when I was getting out another dress.”
“Muħammad bin Qāsim told you he had to see a man?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Yes. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back in five minutes and have it out with me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said patiently,
“I think we’d better go on deck and find out what’s happened. You are certain, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Muħammad bin Qāsim took the gun?”
“Yes. I heard him slam the drawer of the dresser. I didn’t realize what it meant at the time. If… if somebody’s overboard, can they find him─ her?”
“It’s a pretty slim gamble.” I observed, “There’s a heavy sea running. They might swing the ship broadside to the wind and launch boats in the lee, but I don’t think they’ll do it until they have something definite to go on. They’ll play searchlights on the water, throw flares overboard, and keep a sharp lookout. They certainly won’t risk men’s lives in an open boat unless there’s some indication the person’s still alive. Moreover, don’t forget that a shot was fired.”
“Do you suppose it could be Muħammad Ůsmān?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked, “Allah, oh heavens! Muħammad bin Qāsim wouldn’t have done that!”
Chapter 60
——————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 58
Posted: June 15, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 58
Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd
The dawn was cold and chilly.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t need any coat around her.
My nonstop back and forth penetrations into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt were providing her enough heat she needed to face the cold and chill.
The automobile slid to a stop.
“What’s first on the program?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus surveyed the apartment house standing on the silent residential street, as though waiting for the warm morning sunlight to bring it to life.
“Like a sleeping horse standing on three legs with his head down.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you can’t believe the neighborhood is jammed with people.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched her sarcastically.
“Another hour you’ll see curtains going up, smell the aroma of coffee, see the people dashing down the steps running for the streetcars.”
“I wish I were certain we had an hour.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Well, there’s only one thing to do. Find out first where Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s apartment is and next where her garage is.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“That garage business may be tricky, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He suggested protesting what she had implied, “some early riser may be looking out of a window and…”
“I know.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It’s not a good idea to take chances that way.”
“I see.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “What do you suggest instead?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs thought for a second then he admitted reluctantly somewhat.
“I’m darned if I know. But if we contact the police…”
“And if the police asked the proof?”
“Well,”
“We are trying to get proof so that we can provide the same to the police if they asked for it.”
“Well,”
“There is no other option.”
“Why not wait?”
“Water,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said dryly, “has the habit of evaporating. I want to take a look at that automobile before the cushions have had a chance to dry out.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs surrendered ultimately, “If you feel that way about it, let’s go. Every minute makes things that much more dangerous.”
We left the automobile, walked up to the apartment house.
By consulting the directory Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found that Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd had apartment 786.
As we turned back to the car, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said,
“Now, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you take the car, and drive up the driveway. We’ll pretend that we are looking for a stall to put the car in. If there’s any trouble, we can claim that some friend told us we could use her garage for a couple of days because she was going to be away.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said sarcastically,
“Sure. And then if they ask us about the friend and where she lives, it will be just another one of those things.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him scornfully,
“We’ll just have to talk fast and try to talk our way out of it. If you don’t want to cooperate…”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs went back to the automobile, started it, backed into a half turn, then drove slowly up the driveway.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and I walked ahead of Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was my nude glorious mare now on her knees and I was fucking her from her gorgeous behind.
The driveway went around to the back of the apartment house, where there was a large cemented yard flanked with garages.
“Begins to look better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Look the garage doors even have the numbers of the apartments on them.”
“And padlocks.” I smiled.
“We’ll leave that to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. What a husband is good for if he can’t pick a lock for his wife, once in a while.”
“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” I asked innocently.
“It is.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus admitted, “I believe it’s a felony. Even I wouldn’t do it for a million dollars if there were any other way.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs brought the car to a stop, climbed out, and looked at the padlock.
“I don’t like it, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He said bitterly.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus pushed her exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, contracted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock, and looked at her husband, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, contemptuously,
“You don’t think I care any more what the hell you like and what you don’t. Do you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs too looked at his wife venomously,
“I am more prudent now than I was when I married you.”
“That’s better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said bitterly, “Got those skeleton keys handy?”
“Oh sure,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said, “I am not a damnfool that I give you one more chance to destroy me. It’s your funeral now, not mine. I don’t love you any more. Go ahead if you really think you can outwit Durgesh even.”
“Got those skelton keys?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus asked him coldly.
“Yes, they are in the car.”
“Get them for me.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him emotionlessly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs pointed out smirking.
“The windows of those back apartments look out here in the court and…”
“My damn fool husband,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sneeringly, “the longer you talk, the more chance there is someone will hear the discussion and look out to see what it’s all about. This is no time to get weak kneed. You know now very well you were never my destination when I married you. You were my stepladder only.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t stunned even for a moment.
He laughed bitterly.
“I wasn’t in love you myself, bitch. I wanted to fuck you only. And I have done it now to my heart’s content. I damn care now if you fuck Durgesh or a black thief even.”
“That’s all right. It was a bargain then. You were after my body and I was after your money. We both got what we wanted to have. Now, why the hell are you trying to protect me still now as if you are still my husband? You are not. You were never my husband, moreover. You were only my stepladder and I’ve reached my destination now. Durgesh is my destination, you stupid. Why the hell don’t you understand?”
“I don’t understand?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed sarcastically, “I don’t understand? I suspected you bitch, right from the beginning that you were after my money, not after me.”
“I don’t have all the time in the world now.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said contemptuously, “You love a female animal body only as any male animal does. Durgesh doesn’t. Durgesh loves Beauties with brains. That’s why Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan successfully defeated her Ammī Nafīsah Salmān in Durgesh’s sex life. I have to show Durgesh that I too have brains, not beauty only, if I want to gain some respect from him in our sex life. I have to go ahead as though I own the joint and we are just putting the car in for the night. Get me those keys.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs walked back to the glove compartment of his automobile, reluctantly took out the bunch of skeleton keys handed them to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, said,
“These are the padlock keys.”
Then he walked over to the door, stood so that his body shielded the large bunch of keys from any casual observer who might be looking out of any window whatsoever.
In fact, there was a great temptation for him to turn back to the automobile, and disassociate himself from what was going on.
But he could not do it.
Despite what he said, he still loved the treacherous Musalmān Beauty.
Yes, he suspected Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was using him as a stepladder.
But even then he could have her amazingly exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body until she needed him as a stepladder at least.
After all, what was there to lose?
It took five keys before Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found one that would open the padlock.
The lock clicked back.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus calmly opened the door.
We moved inside of the garage.
After a moment, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus called Al Nadīm Al Quddūs sneeringly.
Her voice was exaggeratedly sweetest.
In fact, she cooed actually.
“My dear utmost wise husband, would you kindly oblige me to come here?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs hesitated a few moments, then reluctantly entered the garage.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had opened the sedan doors.
Now, she was feeling the seat cushions and the carpet on the floor.
“Look at this rear cushion, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sarcastically, “doesn’t that feel damp to you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put a reluctant hand on the cushion.
“The left side.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It feels sort of damp.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs admitted.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus frowned thoughtfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“That’s right. You frown thoughtfully because you have yourself too realized now that it would have been soaking wet if your theory was right.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus immediately searched through the automobile.
Disappointment appeared on her face.
“Clean as a hound’s tooth, ma’am.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs announced triumphantly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully.
“I guess I’m off on a wrong trail. The only thing to do now, is to get out of here fast. Hang it, Allah, I can’t get over that damp place in the seat of cushion. What the hell could have caused it?”
“I damn care.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said triumphantly, “Nevertheless, if it had been what you thought, it would have been wetter than that.”
“I’ll be damned.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully, “Let’s take a look at the motor temperature.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus clicked on the switch and looked at the electric gauge.
“Cold as a cucumber.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus flicked off the switch.
“Okay, I guess I’m licked. Durgesh has played some still deeper game, deeper for me at least.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs chuckled.
I kept smiling only.
I didn’t comment.
“I guess, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd could have used another car.”
“Well, there isn’t any evidence here to back up your theory.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched him scornfully.
“The tragedy is that if it isn’t here I don’t know where I have to go to look for it.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly, “let’s get out and do our talking afterward. I never liked this idea in the first place.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs started for the door.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus made a quick final survey of the garage.
Suddenly she said,
“Hell! Look here.”
Her voice was suddenly filled with triumphant excitement.*
I was riding Al Samīnah Al Qāsim once more.
We had fucked since in countless sex positions.
No doubt she couldn’t make with Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
He was a righteous man who believed sex was not actually a virtue for men.
The men, if they were really righteous, must control sex.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim needed enormous sex instead.
“Abbū and I both think it’s just a joke someone played. You know Ammī now even more than Abbū and me, I think. She swears that it was my picture in the frame when she was doing the packing, but Ammī gets excited when we travel. You see, Zāherah Ħusayn and I look alike, even if Zāherah Ħusayn wouldn’t admit it. Ever since I started traveling, people in restaurants and night clubs have been staring at me, nudging each other and whispering.”
I smiled.
“You might capitalize on it. A stand in or something.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim didn’t know then what her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, had planned actually.
We were half through breakfast when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, approached us.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim deliberately left us and went to her stateroom as soon as she saw her Ammī.
She wanted to give privacy to her Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, with me.
It might be Al Nāsirah Al Karīm wouldn’t talk freely in Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s presence.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to stop Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Nonsense. Your Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, is an ultramodern Musalmān lady. She wouldn’t have been a Trillionaire if she were so backward.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s hand.
“I know my Ammī more than you do, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. She isn’t a Trillionaire when she deals with her children. She is an Ammī then.”
“Al Nāsirah Al Karīm,” I looked at her, “I have some information for you.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan on her cheeks.
Yet she grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis too and squeezed it appreciating it.
I smiled, squeezed her still gorgeous rich Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed me on my lips.
I hugged her.
“Can you tell me now?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm glanced dubiously at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“You have to decide it.” I smiled, “It’s your family secret, not mine.”
“It’s all right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “I can understand. Excuse me, please.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm held her wrist.
“It’s all right, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. I may need you too. Please, stay with us if you don’t have another work more important to do.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, squeezed her arm and assured Al Nāsirah Al Karīm that she was staying.*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked resignedly.
“Now what the hell is it?”
“Over here.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him curtly, “Quick.”
The tone of her voice brought Al Nadīm Al Quddūs to her side immediately.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was bent down over a dark corner that was under a workbench.
“What the hell is it?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked impatiently now.
He had lost now all his patience.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straightened.
She was holding an army blanket in her hand.
“Feel this.” She ordered Al Nadīm Al Quddūs scornfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs felt of it, then whistled.
“Soaking wet.” He exclaimed.
“And look under here too, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus bent over and picked up a pair of men’s shoes.
“These,” she said curtly, “were directly under the blanket.”
The shoes themselves were soaking wet.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was stunned.
“You win,” he said involuntarily incredulously, “Allah, by gosh. I’ll hand it to you.”
“Himmat-e-mardān madad-e-Kħudā.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled triumphantly.
“Correct it appropriately.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed, “Himmat-e-åuratān madad-e-Kħudā.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed too.
“Thank you.”
“Well, what do we do?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked, “Take the evidence?”
“No.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “We put everything back the way it was, get out of here, and let the police make the discovery.”
“Do you think they will?”
“They will after we get done with them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cheerfully.
“Just put them back the way you found them?”
“Yes, but first look on the inside of those shoes.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus instructed her husband elatedly, “See if there’s a manufacturer’s name. See if you can get his size.”
“Do you want to read me the letters that are on the inside here? I’ll write them down.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cheerfully picked up the shoes, held them so the light shone down on the figures that were stamped on the lining.
She read off the numbers and the name of the manufacturer.
“Nothing to show the retail store that sold them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked.
“Nothing.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Just the shoe. Eight and a half B as I interpret the meaning of these numbers. However, we’d better check up with a shoe man on that.”
“And get out of here,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said.
“Okay,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “put the shoes back.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put the shoes back, put the wet blanket over the shoes.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the first out of the garage.
I was the last.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus locked the door of the garage.
Once more Al Nadīm Al Quddūs shielded with his body what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was doing so that no one in the apartment house could see Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wiping fingerprints off the padlock with a handkerchief.
I helped Al Safiyah Al Ghaus into the car, then climbed myself pulling her on my lap, sitting on the seat.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straddled on my Uncut Hindu Penis facing me.
“You really think the police will find it?” suddenly Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“Oh sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “It’s not Durgesh that forgot to remove them from the garage. He isn’t that careless. It’s either Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd or Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself.”
“Can’t it be a bait?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs suggested.
“Bait? For me?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“Why not?”
“They can’t harm me now any more as I can’t harm them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said gravely, “Moreover, they know it very well as I do myself.”
“Then why are you trying to harm them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd wants to revenge me. I have to see she never succeeds. It’s my legal right. Isn’t it?”
“Well, how can you blame Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd? You’ve broken her home. Hadn’t you?”
“Well, that’s the point.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “She blames me for it. She justifies herself. She isn’t cured even now. Until and unless Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd doesn’t stop justifying herself and blaming others for her failures she is open to be harmed either by me or by someone else.”
“Okay. What about my younger brother Al Muħammad Al Qāsim?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked her bitterly.
Chapter 59
————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 56
Posted: May 24, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Iqbāl, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Taufīq Fātimah Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 56
Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
I repeated.
“What’s your proposition, Muħammad bin Qāsim?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was terse,
“I haven’t any.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was still watching his wife’s gorgeous Musalmān ass that had swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick to the hilt.
“Sitting tight sometimes doesn’t pay even a dime.” I smiled at Muħammad bin Qāsim still enjoying my Uncut Hindu Prick buried entirely into Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s perfect Musalmān ass.
“Let me see it myself.” Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed cunningly.
“You have a hundred thousand dollars at stake, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan turned to Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, “HVSI Group of Companies has authorized Durgesh and me to sign a compromise with Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company on its behalf. Since Durgesh is a blind supporter of us Musalmān Beauties there are some shareholders in HVSI Group of Companies who wanted the agreement to be signed by me too.”
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah grimaced.
“Bosh and nonsense. If Durgesh were really supporting us Musalmān Beauties blindly, he would never have opposed your Seven Movements, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I can’t believe there are such fools among the stockholders of HVSI Group of Companies who credited you more than Durgesh even.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed sophisticatedly.
“Who the hell is asking you to believe me, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah? Never believe me, if you don’t want to. Nevertheless it doesn’t change the legal status of the agreement that it must be signed by both of us. I’m representing Musalmān Beauties stockholders of HVSI Group of Companies.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus started back and forth motion now enjoying the anal sex she needed very much.
Right from the beginning, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew very well she wasn’t a normal woman.
But are the most of the other women normal?
Hell, no.
They are hypocrites actually.
Both the men and women are hypocrites actually.
At least most of them certainly are.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is not a hypocrite at all.
That’s why they criticize her so much.
They criticized Al Safiyah Al Ghaus for her love for anal sex.
But the fact was it was only her fantasy.
She tried to do it with her first husband.
He called it a sin and refused her to oblige.
She had laughed.
“You can’t do even what is not a sin for you, Iqbāl. Can you?”
Muħammad Iqbāl was stunned.
He couldn’t believe his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife was telling him sophisticatedly that he was not competent in sex.
Allah!
What a shameless woman!
“Muħammad Iqbāl, your sisters suck Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis. Isn’t that a sin? They compel Durgesh for anal sex with them. Isn’t that a sin too.”
Muħammad Iqbāl laughed ironically.
“I never knew Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, my shameless sisters are your ideals. You always criticized them. It was natural consequently, for me, to think you don’t have such a sinful desire.”
“I say you are not competent even in what you think moral sex.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said patiently.
She never knew it could lead Muħammad Iqbāl to suicide.
Hell, the idiot could have divorced her instead.
Couldn’t he?
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was her second husband.
But he was too a hypocrite.
Most of the persons, men and women both, are hypocrites.
They praise other hypocrites.
They never praise an honest and sincere person.
Durgesh is the third man in her life.
But he is perfect.
He invaded her anal virginity without any infinitesimal shade of guilt.
What a man.
What a perfect man.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Sometimes, half a loaf is better than no bread, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah. Sometimes a poor compromise is better than a good lawsuit. Now then, Muħammad bin Qāsim, what’s your proposition?”
Al Taufīq Al Fatimah looked at her husband.
Was Durgesh right?
Is Muħammad bin Qāsim really trying to frame his own murder on her?
Had he really married Al Taufīq Al Fatimah on impulse?
Now, his ambition to have her as his wife is fulfilled, he is repenting his ‘wrong’(?) decision taken on an impulse?
Is he really trying to kill two birds with a stone?
“Give me ten percent of what Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is getting.”
“Ten thousand dollars?” Muħammad Ůsmān shouted, “Are you crazy?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“It’s a hundred thousand dollars deal. HVSI Group of Companies is paying one hundred thousand dollars to Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah for that island. Why can’t I get ten percent of it for signing a quitclaim deed?”
“That’s too much.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly.
Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled bitterly.
“To me, it is ridiculously small. I think there is oil on the island.”
“What do you say?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. “He isn’t the managing director of Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company any more, you are.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at his wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim immediately held her head high and said,
“Prañav , I think Muħammad bin Qāsim is right. We deserve at least ten percent of what Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is getting from HVSI Group of Companies. Our quitclaim deed is necessary for HVSI Group of Companies to get proper title on the island.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“I agree with my wife.”
“Nonsense,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “I advise Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī to pay four thousand dollars for your quitclaim deed. Take it or leave it. Take it and then step out of the picture.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim stiffly shook his head.
“Okay,” I smiled disarmingly, “I will instruct the escrow holder to accept a certificate of title, subject to the provisions of an outstanding oil lease. I don’t think Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company has any leg to stand on. I think I can get an injunction prohibiting you setting foot on the island.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled cunningly.
“Jījū, you may get the injunction but it won’t become final until after it has gone through the Supreme Court.”
I smiled sweetly.
“No problem, Sālé Miyān. I think HVSI Group of Companies has enough money for that. More than you can even dream of. You would have to sell so many of your companies to meet the legal expenses for it. We have enough idle money to meet such unprecedented legal expenses. I don’t care how long the litigation takes. Just so I keep you off the island.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was still smiling cunningly.
“Suppose I win it?”
“You let your legal department prepare an opinion on that. If their opinion collides with your opinion, go ahead and take any legal steps you may see fit. I’m very much inclined to go ahead and complete the deal.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Penis in her extremely gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass very much.
How lucky she was.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is really her best friend.
As soon as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan knew about the sexual fantasies of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had smiled.
“How communal are you, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus?”
“What do you mean?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus couldn’t follow Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“Muħammad Iqbāl was your first husband. Wasn’t he?”
“Yes, sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at her quite perplexed.
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs is your second husband.”
“Yes.”
“You have already married twice.”
“So?”
“Nothing. The point I am getting at is you married both the times Musalmīn.”
“So what? Isn’t it natural? I am also a Musalmān. Therefore…”
“Not natural.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cut her short, “Most of the extraordinary Musalmān Beauties, as beautiful as you are, would have preferred a Hindu husband instead of a Musalmān husband again, once she had the bitter experiences from a Musalmān husband.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was brilliant enough to understand what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was suggesting.
“Durgesh?”
“Why not?”
“Is it possible?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus sighed incredulously.
“To make anything possible the first necessity is to self-hypnotize that it is possible.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled ingeniously.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan in awe.
“To self-hypnotize?”
“To self-hypnotize.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at her splendidly.
“And if it is impossible?”
“Nothing is impossible in the world, you fool. What do you think, was it possible for me to get a Hindu husband who had self-hypnotized himself that he was my stepfather?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was dumb founded.*
She pushed her gorgeous buttocks back in my nude Hindu lap and swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Penis once more into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
“My brother in law, my dévar, has paid Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband, to protect himself and his family from me and my supporters. Can’t you understand Durgesh has staged a show to pull the wool over our eyes as well as on the eyes of the law?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her incredulously.
“You mean Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is alive?”
“Durgesh can’t afford to let him murdered on his own ship.”
“And the shot fired from the revolver?”
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, if you are not yourself playing a part in the play, why the hell can’t you understand? There’s only one person who could have fired it.”
“Who?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at his extremely beautiful wife skeptically.
“Your younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
“You mean he shot himself?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked furiously.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed enjoying the nonstop back and forth movements of my extremely rigid Uncut Hindu Penis in her brilliant smart Musalmān ass.
“Not himself. He just fired one shot in order to establish his fake yet still legal death. Our legal wizard, Durgesh, planned his legal escape in this way from us. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had already fired one shot out of the gun that he left on the dresser for the wife to bring when Al Muħammad Al Qāsim telephoned her. Now then, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my younger brother in law, had to work his timing just right. He had to wait until he saw Al Zohrah Al Bittol coming along the deck. As soon as he saw Al Zohrah Al Bittol there, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my younger brother in law, thoroughly coached by Durgesh, thoroughly rehearsed even, because it is Durgesh’s own ship, had to ‘struggle’ and ‘sway’ in a peculiar manner and then topple overboard. Am I right, Durgesh darling?”*
I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis out of her Musalmān ass until only its head was inside then penetrated it once more so forcefully that Al Safiyah Al Ghaus couldn’t help except to jump.
But I had already anticipated her reaction.
I jumped with her too, penetrating her entirely.
“Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I’m dead.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus screamed in extreme anal ecstasy, “The hell you don’t love anal sex. You are wonderfully and absolutely amazingly expert in anal sex too. Allah, you are killing me. I can’t bear it there any more. You Hindu scoundrel.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus suddenly pulled away her ass, positioned the tip of my Uncut Hindu Penis between her quivering throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips and thrust.
My Uncut Hindu Penis vanished into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt entirely now.
“Fuck me in my Pussy now, okay, you Hindu rascal? What the hell were you after? Rip open wide my ass itself? Naughty naughty.”
I laughed and continued fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus now in her Musalmān Cunt.
Yet, she continued to tell her theory about what I had done.
“Then Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to fire a shot and be in such a position that just as Al Zohrah Al Bittol leaned over the bow of the ship, Al Zohrah Al Bittol would look down and see Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim even call Al Zohrah Al Bittol by her name so that there could be a positive identification. Remember our legal wizard, Durgesh, never leaves any legal loophole. When he wanted to support and protect Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and his family from me and my supporters Durgesh did it a perfect job. No loopholes anywhere whatsoever.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Vikram Bachhalyā, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Pratāp Bachhalyā everyone looked at me as if I were a ghost.
Only Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Even Al Zohrah Al Bittol and ACP Suraiyā Jamāl were looking at me dumbstruck in awe.
Chapter 57
————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 55
Posted: May 23, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Nādirah Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 55
Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus suddenly let my entire Uncut Hindu Penis come out of her extremely beautiful Musalmān Cunt.
I was surprised.
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah advanced to take my immensely anointed Uncut Hindu Penis into her Musalmān mouth, but Al Safiyah Al Ghaus again beat her.
She pushed her gorgeous Musalmān bottom back again.
I suddenly understood what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was after, but it was too late to stop her.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus positioned my Uncut Hindu Penis between her glorious ardent Musalmān ass cheeks and pushed back with her entire strength.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was immensely lubricated already.
It entered her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass to the hilt.
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus!” I said immensely surprised, “Are you crazy?”
“Squeeze my boobs, please!” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus winked at me.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs suddenly realized what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was doing with me.
He jumped immediately and shouted,
“What the hell?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“You don’t have any objection if Durgesh fucks me in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. Isn’t it? Now, what about it? Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund is visiting deepest your wife’s gorgeous Musalmān ass now. Come on, watch yourself.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was dumbfounded.
He could not believe his own eyes.
But, yes, it was true.
It wasn’t any bloody nightmare whatsoever.
Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund was really inside his wife’s exquisite immensely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, buried to the hilt.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying it there proudly.
“W…w…what do you want?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was suddenly full of tears.
He could not believe he was really weeping.
Allah!
It was immense humiliation.
He could not believe he was cuckolded ultimately by his own wife he loved more than himself.
“Come on, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you have already licked my extremely beautiful Musalmān Cunt after I had an orgasm. Haven’t you? Come on, clean it once more.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t believe Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was asking him to lick her cunt and clean it.
Yes, he had done it so many times before, but not because he loved to lick her cunt.
It was a compensation to her actually that he could not make her to have an orgasm while fucking her.
He offered her to bring it by licking her cunt.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs had succeeded too.
He could not fuck her to have an orgasm, but he could lick her to have an orgasm.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had charged him that he was semi impotent.
His cut Musalmān nūnī didn’t have the proper strength to make her have an orgasm, but his tongue was superb.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had laughed.
“How many cunts have you licked, cunt licker?”
“What?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was furious.
“The expertise your tongue has in licking my cunt couldn’t be developed first time, neither even in a single instance. It’s been developed in a long practice. Hey, did you do it with your girlfriends too?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was startled.
What the hell could he do?
He watched Durgesh fucking his sisters and cousins.
He masturbated while watching them.
His cut Musalmān nūnī lost its strength gradually.
Once his sister, Al Nādirah Al Quddūs, caught him masturbating while I was fucking her.
Al Nādirah Al Quddūs made him to lick her cunt after I fucked her.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs hadn’t another alternative.
He did it to please his Al Nādirah Al Quddūs Bājī.
“If I clean you every time after Durgesh fucks you, would you allow me to watch and masturbate right there where Durgesh fucks you?”
Al Nādirah Al Quddūs Bājī laughed.
“Hey, you loved it, didn’t you, instead of hating it? It wasn’t a punishment to you. It was a reward instead. Wasn’t it?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled triumphantly.
“Yes, Bājī. Will you please allow me?”
We allowed him.
Yes, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was expert in tongue fucking.
His cut Musalmān nūnī was weak, but his tongue was a miracle.
After his Al Nādirah Al Quddūs Bājī his other sisters also allowed him.
His cousins too allowed him gradually.
Then even his Ammī allowed him when she managed Durgesh to fuck her, blackmailing her own daughters.
Was his family unconventional?
Well, let it be.
Who the hell cares?*
Once they arranged group sex with Durgesh on their Ammī’s birthday.
Their lady-friends were also invited.
Durgesh undressed all of them.
Ammī undressed Durgesh.
Then she played with Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund while Durgesh was kissing their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunts.
Ammī sucked Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund and swallowed his entire Hindu Vīrý.
So did the others.
Durgesh fucked all of them, one by one.
What a man.
What an amazing man.
None of them was unsatisfied.
Durgesh fucked all of them to their heart’s content.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs licked all of them.
They had different tastes.
Yet, Durgesh’s Hindu Vīrý was common.
And it made all of them taste superb.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was surprised immensely to find out how many Musalmān Beauties, how many Musalmān houseladies, fuck Durgesh, despite his unwillingness even.
Durgesh was a Hindu male slut for Musalmān Beauties and sophisticated extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies too.
He could not believe what he witnessed himself.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at me.
“No motion for somewhat half an hour, Durgesh, please! It was my long nourished dream to have your Uncut Hindu Penis into my ardent Musalmān ass buried to the hilt. You may call it a pervert desire, but let it get fulfilled anyway.”
Her ardent Musalmān anal muscles had gripped my Uncut Hindu Penis strongly, vehemently.
I smiled my assurance to her.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs had started to lick her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt already.
At first he wanted to object but he realized the futility of the step.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had raised her status ultimately.
She wasn’t now a shill, a hostess of any damn gambling house at Las Vegas, Nevada.
She was at least Durgesh’s mistress now.
And Durgesh was the most powerful man now everywhere.
He was not only a multi zillionaire now, he was the Mayor of Ved Nagar too.
Of course, he wasn’t the President or Prime Minister of any country.
Yet, the entire king makers of every country have deliberately managed their daughters, sisters and/or other Musalmān houseladies to join Durgesh’s ever expanding Sex Empire.
Why the hell shouldn’t he pose himself unresponsive to what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is doing?
Why oppose it?
Why shouldn’t he ignore it?
His sisters, cousins and Ammī already belong to Durgesh’s Sex Empire.
Let his wife too belong to it.
What’s the big thing there, if any?
She would never return to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Then why antagonize her?
Even Imām Muħammad Ħasan has compromised with Durgesh in this matter.
Hasn’t he?
Then who the hell is Al Nadīm Al Quddūs?*
Enjoying my Uncut Hindu Prick buried to the hilt into her gorgeous ardent Musalmān ass, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus remembered:
Her relatives flooded into the house.
I grimaced.
It was to interrupt my sex life with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus for almost a week at least.
Yes, I didn’t approach her first.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus approached me instead.
Yet, it didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy sex with her optimum.
I greeted her relatives reluctantly.
The older ladies gave me wet kisses and the younger ladies pressed their beautiful Musalmān tits on my wide, strong, Hindu male chest.
I grimaced again.
The ladies were accompanied by their husbands, boyfriends, or sons who carried the supplies for thanksgiving week.
I was concentrated on the Al Makkah Al Mukarramah Sex Contest.
During commercials I would check out the younger exceedingly stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ladies over by the kitchen.
I had promised Al Safiyah Al Ghaus that I would not run up to my room like I always did when her relatives visited.
It’s not that I didn’t like them.
The problem was that they asked the same foolish questions every time.
I just didn’t like to update them on my Musalmān Beauties, their career choice, and relationships with me.
Looking at their beautiful superb Musalmān asses I began to wonder about what they wore underneath.
Well, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had beautiful female relatives.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was constantly hard watching them.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus herself looked gorgeous in her maroon long sleeve v-neck and those tight denim jeans.
I knew Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was wearing a black and red thong that wedged between her cheeks.
I had seen her put it on this morning.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and Al Nadīm Al Quddūs were not divorced even yet, but they had not lived together too in a long time now.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was mainly an irresponsible, lame, and lousy man from what I had seen in my 64 year old life.
He would show up once in a blue moon for some trivial activity, but he would spend the holidays elsewhere.
It was getting pretty loud and annoying in the living room.
I decided to make a break for it.
I nonchalantly stood up from the couch and grabbed my juice as I looked around for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
I spotted Al Safiyah Al Ghaus in the kitchen and quickly went up the stairs to escape the incoming foolish questions.
I was finally relaxing and enjoying the Contest when I heard a knock on my door.
My first thought was that I should have locked the damn door.
“Come in.” Before I finished speaking, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s dumbass cousin barged in with a drink and a bag of chips.
He sat down on the floor as if he owned the place.
I was already thinking of a way to get him out of my room.
“Damn, the bookies are doing really good this year.”
Ved Nagar was winning by 3 possessions.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s cousin continued munching on his chips.
I didn’t really have a close relationship with him, but I knew he was a dumbass from the days we used to spend together in Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Ammī, Al Saħar Al Zakāt‘s house.
The Contest was coming to an end.
The small talk between us would hopefully end soon too.
“Aunt Kħālidah Gul Ħasan is looking real good today, right?”
Kħālidah Gul Ħasan was Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s sister-in-law.
She was too all attractive to me.
“If you say so.” I didn’t know what he was getting at with that comment.
However, I didn’t care too much either.
“But she is not hotter than your Al Safiyah Al Ghaus though, you know if she wasn’t your Al Safiyah Al Ghaus I would be licking her up.” He made slurping noises and laughed as he turned to look at me.
“Don’t even think about it faggot, well the Contest is basically over so why don’t you head downstairs with the family.”
As he got up to leave the room I whispered some cuss words and shook my head.
Alone in my room with the TV turned off and the woman of my dreams downstairs, my hand reached down to touch my growing proud erection.
I made sure the door was locked as I made my way to the bathroom.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus‘s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was itself available to me now, but I was not getting it for a week.
I pulled my shorts down and began pissing off.
My eyes opened when I heard noise outside my room.
It was around 9 pm.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was probably showing everyone their room for the night.
They would be crowded.
I just hoped that Al Safiyah Al Ghaus would not put anybody in our room.
“Durgesh, open the door, it’s me.” I recognized Al Safiyah Al Ghaus‘s voice.
I pulled up my shorts.
When I opened the door, I was glad to see that it was only her entering the room.
“What were you doing, Durgesh?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus slipped off her shoes and loosened her dark brown hair.
She sat down next to me and reached for my shoulders with her delicate hands.
“I was pissing since you were busy with your family.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at my response then she looked back at the door knob.
I followed her eyes to the door and realized what she was thinking.
I moved back to rest my back on the headboard.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus gave me a naughty grin as she pulled down my shorts.
My 9 inches stood proudly in the cold room and my head oozed with pre-cum.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus got on all fours and dove down on my throbbing Hindu member.
She ran her beautiful Musalmān tongue once over my Hindu pee hole and then swirled her tongue all over my purple head.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus made a small o with her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips and went down on my Uncut Hindu Cock.
My head widened her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, but she kept her pink lips sealed as tightly as possible.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus started taking inch by inch of my Uncut Hindu Shaft as she moved her hair behind her ears.
Half way through my Uncut Hindu Shaft she started working up again towards my tip.
She undid her jeans and moved her hand in between her legs.
Now she was softly moaning and working her way back down with her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
Her hot Musalmān mouth went 3/4ths of the way down then sucked all the juices on the way up as I grabbed the top of her head.
This type of sensual sucking I’m sure can only be performed by Al Safiyah Al Ghaus only.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus let my Uncut Hindu Dick out of her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth with a loud pop and then climbed on top of me.
She positioned herself in the famous 69 as I spread her jean covered glorious Musalmān ass.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus placed her hands on my thighs and began slurping my Uncut Hindu Lund head back into her lovely Musalmān mouth.
Slowly swallowing my Uncut Hindu Cock she rubbed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy through her thong.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus made a few gagging sounds as saliva spilled out of her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth into my Hindu groin.
The determination to deep throat me kept her going down until she reached the base of my 9 inch Uncut Hindu Cock.
Her head came back up with a loud gasp and more saliva coming from her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
This time she quickly enveloped my Uncut Hindu Cock and was once again touching down with her beautiful nose.
I squeezed her exceptionally attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass as my Hindu balls gathered the massive load that was about to shoot up into her terrifically exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
I thrust my hips upward.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus pushed down on my thighs as my Uncut Hindu Cock started erupting my hot Hindu cum into her Musalmān throat.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus stayed down on my Uncut Hindu Dick for as long as possible then she came up to gasp for air.
The juices fell out of her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth down to her neck and to my thighs.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus turned around to face me with a smile and I saw her beautiful cheeks full of our bodily fluids.
A string of my Hindu cum was coming out through her right nostril.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed as she wiped her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth with a pillow.
I followed her to the bathroom were we finished cleaning up.
“Eīshān, God, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, that was amazing.” I smiled.
She mumbled a response while blowing her nose.
I grabbed her hips and helped her up to the counter.
We wrestled tongues as I kept working her clit with my Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Sweetie, what are we making for dinner?” That was Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Ammī, Al Saħar Al Zakāt, speaking from outside the door.
If she only knew what her daughter was doing inside the room.
I kissed Al Safiyah Al Ghaus on the forehead and helped her down to her feet.
“How do I look?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was cleaned up and looking stunning as usual.
She looked at herself in the mirror and I playfully slapped her exceptionally attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass as a sign of approval.
We hurried to open the door and found Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Ammī, Al Saħar Al Zakāt, looking at her recipe book.
“Sweetie, what happened to your lipstick?”
In the rush of the moment, we had not noticed the damn lipstick.
“I was uh, eating a blow pop.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus licked her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips and ushered us to the stairs.
I looked around to make sure no one was looking and I pinched Al Safiyah Al Ghaus‘s gorgeous exquisite Musalmān ass while Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Ammī, Al Saħar Al Zakāt, made her way down the stairs.
Chapter 56
———————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 54
Posted: May 16, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Pratāp Bachhalyā, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, Taufīq Fātimah, Vikram Bachhalyā Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 54
Durgesh Al Zohrah Al Bittol
Durgesh ACP Suraiyā Jamāl
Durgesh Al Safiyah Al Ghaus
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at Al Zohrah Al Bittol smiling cunningly.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed at her.
“Look at me as much as you please.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol cooed, “You can’t do anything whatsoever, nevertheless. I am on anticipatory bail, I’ve told you already.”
“You said you jumped out of bed, grabbed the gun and didn’t even wait to put a robe on?”
“That’s right.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol kept fucking me smiling at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl triumphantly, “I came flying up the companionway and was just approaching the bow when I saw a vague figure swaying this way and that, apparently engaged in a struggle of some sort.”
“A figure?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked sarcastically.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol grimaced.
“I refuse to answer your insulting questions. You are trying to irritate me. I would prefer to give my testimony in a competent court.”
“That’s what you think.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled tartly.
“That’s what I’m going to do. You don’t have any legal right to insult and humiliate me.”
“It’s not you that’s taking this attitude to a responsible police officer.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said smirking, “It’s Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis visiting your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt that’s letting you fly so high.”
“I’m glad you have eyes at least, even if you don’t have any manners whatsoever.”
“I may request to cancel your bail.”
“Oh, sure. Go ahead. Do everything on the earth you are capable of. If you really get it canceled I’d wash your feet and drink the water that is used in washing them.”*
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled.
She wasn’t born yesterday.
She realized the truth in Al Zohrah Al Bittol’s voice.
So, Al Zohrah Al Bittol was really innocent?
Despite she was on the deck when Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was overboard,
Despite she had a revolver in her hand, Despite Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah heard an ‘explosion of some sort.
Did Durgesh deliberately stage this improbable story for her?
Why?
The night was filled with sounds of hectic activity now.
Opening and closing doors and frightened feet sounded in the passageways and on the companionways.
The swift babble of voices kept up an incessant, a nonstop, chatter.
Moreover, cutting through all of the sounds of confusion, my crisp, authoritative voice was giving orders.
The motorboats had been lowered to the water and engines started.
Each of them cruised in a series of questing circles around the ship.
“The figure was apparently engaged in a struggle of some sort,” Al Zohrah Al Bittol repeated, “but I saw only the one figure.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl stopped herself with efforts, not to smirk.
What was the use?
Al Zohrah Al Bittol would again stop telling her story.
Shouldn’t at least she listen to it?
She saw only the one figure.
Yet, it was engaged in a struggle of some sort.
With whom the hell was it struggling then?
Nonsense!
Al Zohrah Al Bittol realized the question her statement generated.
“The other one must have been below the deck.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol advanced her assumption.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me pleadingly.
“Go on,” I grabbed the splendid heavy buttocks of Al Zohrah Al Bittol and arched my waist up.
My Uncut Hindu Penis penetrated her ardent Musalmān Cunt as a spear as if.
Her bottom was coming down at the same time.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol shouted in superb ecstasy.
“Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! What the hell are you doing to me?”
I caressed her buttocks and kissed her on her lips passionately.
She controlled herself and resumed.
Now, her up and down motion had stopped.
She was sitting on my Uncut Hindu Penis swallowing it entirely into her Musalmān Cunt.
I was enjoying the honor myself too to its utmost extent.
“Just before I got there,” Al Zohrah Al Bittol continued, “the man lurched and fell overboard. I screamed involuntarily as I heard the splash. Then there was the sound of an explosion and a series of splashing noises. By the time I had reached the bow. I could hear my name being called now.”
I was listening to her gravely.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at each other.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was alone, after me, that was too listening to it gravely.*
Al Zohrah Al Bittol watched me, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.
Then she went on,
“I bent over the rail. I could see now a figure of a man in the water. It was floundering around aimlessly. It was floundering as if it was wounded badly and was trying to swim desperately.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī also looked at me.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl did smirk again, as if asking me,
‘If Al Zohrah Al Bittol is really innocent how Al Muħammad Al Qāsim would have been wounded?
Why was he trying to swim desperately?
Who the hell wounded Al Muħammad Al Qāsim if not Al Zohrah Al Bittol?’
I was reading the questions on their faces.
But I didn’t ask Al Zohrah Al Bittol anything.
She went on,
“Then the figure moved into the oval of light that was coming from a porthole in the forecastle and I could see his face. He was Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, my husband. He seemed partially paralyzed. He called me and tried to call out a message. I couldn’t hear what he said. His voice was almost inaudible. Abruptly he ceased to struggle and was swept down by the current under the overhang of the bow. I thought he was coming down the starboard side. I ran that way. Unfortunately, apparently, he drifted down the port side.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl grimaced.
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t conform to the facts as they must have happened.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol smirked.
“I sympathize with you.”
“I beg your pardon?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly.
“That the facts don’t understand how compulsory it is to obey you.”
“When Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis is inside your Musalmān Cunt you can fly in sky very high.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl commented drily.
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim couldn’t have been telephoning from the bow of the yacht. It was virtually impossible.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly”*
There were no vacant chairs at the dinner.
Sheeted rain lashed against the portholes.
The guests who made merry with colored paper caps, balloons and pasteboard horns lacked spontaneity.
Their merriment seemed merely a forced attempt to comply with maritime, nautical, conventions.
Awfully striking lady robot waitresses felt their way, a few steps at a time, half-filled dishes carried in deep serving trays.
Fucking Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and dining, I looked across where Muħammad bin Qāsim and his Hollywood heroine wife, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, were entertaining Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim, Vikram Bachhalyā, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, Pratāp Bachhalyā and Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah were also there with Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim.
With darkness, the faint mist that had been forming on the water thickened into fog, and as we sat down to dinner the hoarse fog whistle boomed out its eerie, unnerving, warning.
Thereafter at regular intervals through the meal the fog whistle served to remind us that we were on the water and a fog was settling down.
“Doesn’t look as though we’ll get back tonight.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah said.
“Wouldn’t you tackle it in a fog?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus enquired.
“Not unless I have to.” I pulled nude Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to me.
She laughed ecstatically and pushed her extremely glorious nude Musalmān bottom into my nude Hindu male lap.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smilingly deserted it for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
My Uncut Hindu Penis made a sound of ‘pluck’ as it came out of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s thirty two years old young Musalmān Cunt.
It was heavily anointed with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt juices.
As soon as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus positioned her immensely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt against the tip of my Uncut Hindu Penis and pushed, my thoroughly lubricated Uncut Hindu Penis immediately entered into Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs could not watch it.
He averted his eyes immediately.
“Slut,” he murmured to himself.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had heard it.
She laughed humiliating Al Nadīm Al Quddūs immensely and started fucking me herself vigorously, energetically, dynamically, forcefully, and strongly.
I put my hands on her glamorous nude Musalmān waist.
Yet, it was not necessary.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus herself was vigilant enough that my Uncut Hindu Penis must never come out of her Musalmān Cunt entirely, and it must penetrate her Musalmān Cunt vigorously instead without any hindrance whatsoever it may be.*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was feeling himself immensely insulted.
But what could he do?
Even before his marriage with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, he knew she loved immense sex.
He thought he could provide him the same.
He was too confident of his manly potency living in extreme over confidence.
He was too obsessed with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s devastating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty that he thought he could make love to her till infinity.
Hell, he could not, practically ever.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wanted more and more sex from him.
Her first husband had committed suicide due to intense shame he faced when he could not satisfy Al Safiyah Al Ghaus sexually.
Now, Durgesh is providing her even more sex than even Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could digest.
How crazy Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was for Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund getting into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She undressed herself while Durgesh was fucking his Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Why Al Safiyah Al Ghaus did so?
To seduce Durgesh herself.
Isn’t it?
And when Durgesh saw her nude Musalmān beauty and pulled Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to him, how ecstatically she laughed, positioned Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund herself between the ravenous quivering ever greedy lips of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
How ecstatically Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is pushing her ever magnificent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bottom to Durgesh’s ever sexy nude Hindu male lap.
She is swallowing Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund deepest every time she thrust back her bottom, into her extremely greedy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her eyes are brightest when Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund is deepest into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
They lost their brightness as Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund left her Musalmān Choot.
But they were again brightest when Durgesh Uncut Hindu Lund is again deepest back into her still greedy still ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Suddenly he realized the persons were gathering in a wide circle around Durgesh and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, fucking Durgesh ravenously entirely unashamed of herself.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was horrified.
Allah, no.
Nooooooooooooooo!
Everyone would ask who she is.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs would die of shame.*
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had said,
“Don’t trust the bitch. Fuck her and enjoy her beautiful body. But never trust the bitch. She’s a snob. Ever notice how it happens that people who have real background and breeding are considerate, tolerant, and broad-minded, while people who haven’t anything except money that they didn’t earn themselves, are intolerant? That’s my Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, you fuck wildly, I guess.”
I tried to say something but Al Muħammad Al Qāsim raised his hand and stopped me.
“Listen to me, please; I’m your father in law too.”
I looked at him gravely.
“My entire daughters, except Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, love you. She loved Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and married him. My Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, has got about the nicest figure I’ve ever seen on a woman. And I’ve too seen lots of them.
“Never underestimate my Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Durgesh. She uses her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body as her ever best weapon. When you fuck her she is the most capable and even having all the smartness you are less capable than her, because your Uncut Hindu Lund is inside her ever smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.”
I smiled.
“Sorry for using those words, but that’s it.” Al Muħammad Al Qāsim said bitterly, “That woman enjoys your Uncut Hindu Lund in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, but it sharpens her brain.”
I laughed.
“You don’t believe me? Try to test what I’m telling you. The more you fuck my Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, the sharper is her already ever smart brain. She made Bhāījān, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, to disinherit his own daughter when he was fucking the bitch. Never underestimate her, I repeat. She’s smart. My Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, is chain lightning! She’s got her eye on a big slice of money, and Bhāījān, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, hasn’t waked up yet, despite the fact that he has lost his daughter to me.
“That’s all right. Let him sleep. He has paid for a dream. As long as he’s enjoying the dream, why grab him by the shoulder and bring him back to the grim realities of existence?”*
I grabbed her waist and started fucking her myself too.
Her extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt was one of the perfect homes for my Uncut Hindu Penis.
After fucking Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan to my heart’s content, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was an extremely pleasant replacement to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Cunts were extremely ravenous for my Uncut Hindu Penis.
Yet, they both had their own individualities too.
I knew now why Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was so ravenous for me.
Neither of her Musalmān husbands could fuck her even properly.
Her vaginal grip around my Uncut Hindu Penis was almost virginal.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was penetrating her first time properly.
It was natural she loved me more now than either of her incompetent Musalmān husbands.
“You are my husband now, not Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, the impotent.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus whispered to me.
I smiled and kissed her on her beautiful lips.
“Thank you, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“It’s my pleasure, Durgesh darling.”
“Well,” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed suddenly, “you both are made for each other, doubtlessly. Nevertheless, I can’t stay all night.”
She glanced at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah too.
“Well,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed, “I don’t think we have much choice in the matter, Bājī.”
I smiled at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
Then still fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus vigorously, I assured Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, don’t worry. I’ve plenty of room. We can put everybody up nicely.”
“Look here,” Muħammad Ůsmān interrupted, “what’s the idea behind this thing? Almost all of us know very well that at this season of the year, there’s always fog and rain even, on this part of the sea.”
“Yet, you accepted the invitation.” Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Muħammad Ůsmān contemptuously.
“Not always,” Muħammad bin Qāsim interrupted hastily.
He was the one who accepted the invitation, not Muħammad Ůsmān.
Muħammad Ůsmān had only agreed to it.
“Don’t worry,” Muħammad Ůsmān said sarcastically, “after fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to his heart’s content, Durgesh would fuck you too. I’d request him to oblige you too.”
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah sympathized with him.
“Thank you. So, ultimately you are absolutely impotent now?”
I interrupted to stop the hot exchanges between Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah and Muħammad Ůsmān.
“Well, Muħammad Ůsmān is right somewhat, Muħammad bin Qāsim. It’s not always, but it’s nearly always. However, Muħammad Ůsmān, I can get out the ship and put you ashore at a little town on a Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Island, about ten miles upstream. There’s an airline that will get you back to Ved Nagar.”
“That would be deuced uncomfortable.” Muħammad Ůsmān said, “Muħammad bin Qāsim is just recovering from a case of stomach trouble.”
“Food poisoning,” Muħammad bin Qāsim interrupted.
“Well,” I announced still pumping Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, now even more severely, “I’m not going to risk the safety of the ship and the convenience of the other guests. Muħammad Ůsmān, you can get in a launch and get an interurban if you want to.”
“I don’t want to.” Muħammad Ůsmān said furiously, “Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is still my wife. I can’t leave her behind for you to fuck her as if she is a slut, not my respected Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.”
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed and licked my Uncut Hindu Lund coming out of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“It’s very tasty. Muħammad Ůsmān, come on, taste for yourself.”
“Go to hell.” Muħammad Ůsmān shouted back to her.
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah winked at him.
“Sorry, Muħammad Ůsmān. You’ve to go alone there. I can’t and won’t accompany you ever now.”
Muħammad Ůsmān gritted his teeth.
“Muħammad Ůsmān,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly, “sit here and enjoy life. Durgesh, you said you have some champagne on ice?”
“I don’t talk business when I drink.” Muħammad bin Qāsim declared.
“All right,” still fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, I pulled Al Taufīq Al Fatimah too to me, squeezed her immensely rich Musalmān buttocks and kissed her on her red crimson lips, “Muħammad bin Qāsim, what’s your proposition?”
Chapter 55
————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 53
Posted: May 10, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat, Uncategorized | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Aħmad Kamāl, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Kamāl, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Seven Movements, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 53
Durgesh Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl
Durgesh Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl
Durgesh Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54,
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39,
And Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl, 20,
All the three were my practical wives while I was already sixty then.
Actually Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, had me first.
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl was her daughter in law actually.
And, Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl was her granddaughter.
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, her Bahū Bégam, actually blackmailed her mother in law, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, was startled.
“What? You want to cheat my son, Aħmad Kamāl?”
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, smiled.
She didn’t say anything.
Only watched my legendary Uncut Hindu Penis vanishing into Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54,’s still ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, significantly, sarcastically.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl was furious.
“Don’t watch it like a she hawk. You are entirely twenty one years younger than Durgesh.”
There was intense venom and scorn in her voice, for her Bahū Bégam.
She never thought she was also enjoying me out of wedlock.
If it was moral why it was immoral that her daughter in law was watching her enjoying sex with me and not even ashamed of her act.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl expected respect from her Bahū Bégam still now.
She expected her Bahū Bégam, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, must respect her, even now, as she was respectful to her until now.
She must have respected her privacy with me.
Even if she had seen it, she must have ignored it and made a respectful exit from there.
Instead, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, was trying to blackmail her, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl?
Was Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl crazy?
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl could not bear it any more.
She ordered her Bahū Bégam, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, ultimately.
“Go away. Don’t you have etiquette enough, not to watch your mother in law in her intimate moments with her man?”
“I never watched you, Ammī, with Abbū, Muħammad Kamāl.” Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl said obediently and respectfully perfectly.
“Well, I said, ‘with my man’, not with my impotent husband’.”*
There was no more splashing, no more hanging against the side of the yacht.
Then there was the noise of confusion as doors opened and closed.
There was the sound of tense voices, hurrying feet.
“Did you scream?” I asked the stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty I was holding in my arms.
“I went there myself hearing it.” she smiled disarmingly, but there wasn’t anyone.”
“Then what about the scream we heard?”
“Your security persons were there. They were talking of a young woman who thought someone was behind her. She screamed. The security persons found no one when they searched the vicinity.”
She was still playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis.
I smiled.
“Sorry, I’ve to have firsthand information from my security itself.”
She smiled at me seductively.
“Oh, sure. I understand. Go ahead.”
“Won’t you care to introduce yourself, if you don’t mind?” I smiled seductively myself.*
The stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty smiled.
“I’m Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
“Glad to meet you.”
“Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl is my Kħālājān. Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl is my Kħālāzād sister, my cousin actually.”
“I have a vague remembrance that I’ve seen you with Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl.”
“Thank you for remembering me.” She kept smiling, “May I get the honor of sucking the great Durgesh’s unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis?”
I laughed.
“You are already playing with it. Go ahead. It’s not actually that I’m honoring you. It’s my pleasure instead. I’m being honored. Thank you.”*
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“I’m honored. Thank you. The pleasure is certainly mine. You have really broken all the conventions. The parents are arranging now to gift your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis to their beloved Just Eighteen Just Adult daughters on their eighteenth birthday. Isn’t it a miracle? The husbands are arranging now to gift your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis to their beloved wives on their Shab-e-Ůrūsī, their Golden Night even, on anniversaries and other memorable events too to make them more memorable.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol unzipped me, brought my Uncut Hindu Prick out, kissed it respectfully, licked it and then swallowed entirely into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
My security was in action still now.
The deck was flooded with illumination now.
Yet, it did not stop Al Zohrah Al Bittol from sucking my Uncut Hindu Prick.
Instead, she was sucking it now more excited.
Was she an exhibitionist?
I could not decide.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl appeared there suddenly.
“Durgesh, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was on board.”
“What?” I was all alert suddenly.
“The stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty that’s sucking you now so indebted, so gratefully, is actually one of the present four wives of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. Her name is Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
I watched Al Zohrah Al Bittol gravely now.
“She has told me her name.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol increased the speed of sucking my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“She can’t get away with it by only sucking your Uncut Hindu Penis.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl shouted, “Your new Musalmān girlfriend has killed her husband, do you knowwwwww?”*
Al Zohrah Al Bittol looked at me gravely.
“The Pseudo Musalmīn have framed me deliberately, Durgesh darling. Your so called innocent Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was actually helping them.”
“Shut up.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said coldly, “I know your story now. What the hell do you think? You stunning Musalmān Beauties, you stunning Musalmān houseladies, can get away with murders even, only because Durgesh loves to fuck you?”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol winked at her.
“You can’t arrest me, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.”
“Why? Because you are sucking Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked her sarcastically.
“Because I had already anticipated it. I’ve taken anticipatory bail already.”
“I know.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly, “Why the hell are you here on the deck?”
“Tut tut tut. Warn me first, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, that anything I may say may be used against me.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me angrily.
“She is already speaking your legal language. What the hell you do? As soon as they take your Uncut Hindu Penis in their hands and mouth they suddenly become unapproachable legally.”
I smiled.
“Give her your version of the events, Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
Someone had thrown over a life preserver with a carbide canister attached.
A brilliant white light spread over the surface of the water.
It illuminated the life preserver, the water around the ship.
It threw against the heavy wall of fog a strange, distorted shadow of the ship running to the disputed island.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim were representing Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim telephoned me. He was extremely excited.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said, He said he needed his gun. He said it was on the top of the dresser. He requested me to bring the gun to him on the deck.”
“I see.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled sarcastically patiently.
“Where the hell from was he telephoning to you?”
“He said he was telephoning from the bow of the ship.”
“Sure?”
“How can I? All I know what he said to me.”
“You had recognized his voice?”
“He was my husband. Wasn’t he? Can’t I recognize even my own husband’s voice?” Al Zohrah Al Bittol asked ACP Suraiyā Jamāl bitterly.
“That’s what I am asking you myself.”
“She is already biased against me, Durgesh. Don’t you see?”
“Al Zohrah Al Bittol is right, Suraiyā .” I said gravely, “You are a police officer. Act properly. If Al Zohrah Al Bittol can prove you act biased against her, you can be prosecuted for misusing your powers. She is too a taxpayer. You have to protect her civilian rights too.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me sarcastically.
“Al Zohrah Al Bittol is a Kħālāzād cousin of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, do you know?”*
I looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.
“Suraiyā,” I said patiently, “How many times I have told you not to be prejudiced, even infinitesimally, against any one you suspect. You are not a judge, you are only a police officer. I’ve told you already, she has met me now. How can she tell me how many Kħālāzād, Māmūzād, Buāzād, Chachāzād etc. sisters she does have?”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl grimaced.
“Be blind deliberately as much as the damn you want to be, only because she is extremely beautiful and she is fucking you now herself to protect herself. I’m not a man, thanks, thanks God, Allah. She can’t blind me.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“She is jealous of me, Durgesh.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled bitterly.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim told you he was telephoning you from the bow of the ship?”
“That’s right.”
“I see.”
“He said it was a matter of life and death for him. I had to come fast with his revolver.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said, fucking me savagely now.
Her bottom was moving up and down on my Uncut Hindu Penis, taking it into her Musalmān Cunt every time when it was down.
“What did you do when he asked you to do so?”
“I jumped out of bed, grabbed the gun and didn’t even wait to put a robe on.”
“So that you can fuck Durgesh sooner to win him on your side?”
“So that I can save him before it’s too late, if it was really a matter of life and death for him.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said curtly.
“How nice of you.”
“That’s right.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said tersely, “How nice of me! Why the hell are you questioning me if you are so prejudiced against me already?”
“Oh, it’s routine, Umm-Al-Åālmīn.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl answered exaggerating her politeness ironically, “How lucky you are that you are extraordinary stunning. If you weren’t, you couldn’t have fucking Durgesh and I would have arrested you easily.”
“I sympathize with you, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.”
Suddenly, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s cellular phone rang.
“Yes, SP Zubaydah Bābar, Have you got the fingerprints report? Okay. That’s fine. Nice job, so fast. Congrats. Tell me what did you find? Any of the receivers had Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s fingerprints?”*
I felt a feminine palm on my arm.
I looked at her.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was still visiting the triumphant Musalmān Cunt of Al Zohrah Al Bittol vigorously.
It was Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
She was dressed in pajamas and slippers, bundling a robe around her.
Yet, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wasn’t alone.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was also with her.
I watched both of them.
They were more understanding than the rest of them.
Moreover, they both knew it was not actually the disputed island only that we were on this yacht now.
It was actually the excuse only.
The Pseudo Musalmīn were trying to make even Ved Nagar hot for Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had already ‘exiled’ him from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
She thought only Ved Nagar could protect her Abbū now from the ever crazy Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn.
“What happened?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah asked.
“What do you know yourself? Tell me first.” I said gravely, “Then I’d tell you what I know, but you don’t.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me, ignoring that I was entirely nude now on my back, Al Zohrah Al Bittol was nude too entirely, she was straddling me and fucking me wildly.
It was routine in Ved Nagar, and in my daily life too.
“I heard someone shout ‘Man Overboard’ and a splash.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said.
“Did you hear a shot?” I asked.
“I heard an explosion of some sort.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, watching me prudently.
She could not believe it could happen on my ship, without any prior information to me.
What the hell was happening?
Was Durgesh himself playing a deep game to protect someone?
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim couldn’t be murdered in this way on Durgesh’s yacht.
Even an utmost foolish murderer would never do it, let it be any wife of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself.
She knew Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had especially consulted Durgesh about his utmost greedy relatives.
Was it Durgesh‘s strategy for Al Muħammad Al Qāsim to get rid of his ever greedy relatives?*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly.
“I knew you would advise him something like that.”
She was on her knees and I was fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus from her glorious behind.
I looked at her innocently.
“What the hell are you talking about, my extremely sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān love?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was under constant surveillance of our Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement detectives.”
“And you think I didn’t know it?”
“If you knew it why all the strategy ab initio?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at me incredulously.
“You and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were planning to declare Al Muħammad Al Qāsim legally incompetent to deal with his own money and assets. He has transferred all of them to his own legal heirs in his will already. He is dead now legally. You can’t get him declared incompetent now. He has gone underground.”
“I never knew you were so afraid of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed triumphantly.
I smiled ironically.
“You call it fear, I call it precaution.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at his extremely beautiful wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, scornfully.
His brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s money had converted her into an utmost greedy bitch.
He had proposed her to get a divorce from him.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had laughed at his proposal.
“You can’t get away from me, in this way, my dear husband.”
“I’m not your husband any more.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly to her, “Durgesh is your practical husband now.”
“Almost entire Musalmān Beauties, almost entire Musalmān houseladies, fuck Durgesh/other capable Hindus extra martially, because their ever incurable ever religious Musalmān husbands can’t satisfy them sexually…”
“Bosh and nonsense.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs cut her short, “It’s not sex only you Musalmān Beauties, you Musalmān houseladies , are after Durgesh/Hindus for.”
“Oh,”
“You want to get rid of our terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn image too. You want to get rid of our backward image too. You want to get rid of our rigid adamant anti human image too.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs charged his ever shrewd wife scornfully.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled ironically.
“And we should never do it?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t answer this blunt question.
“Well,”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“Even if you are right, what’s wrong in it, if we Musalmān Beauties, we Musalmān houseladies, really do it? Shouldn’t we get rid of our backward image if we can get rid of it? Shouldn’t we get rid of our terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn image too, if we can? Shouldn’t we get rid of our rigid adamant anti human image too, if we can? If you don’t want to get rid of these images, it’s alright with us. We are not compelling you to do it. Then why do you criticize us? Are we your slaves, not your Musalmān houseladies?”*
As soon as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said she had heard an ‘explosion of some sort’, I ordered,
“Rig up the searchlights.”
A man from the top of the pilothouse said,
“I’m getting it, sir.”
The canvas covers were ripped off the searchlights.
A moment later the arcs sputtered into brilliance.
The long shafts of light pushed themselves against the opalescent fog to be swallowed up in milky nothingness.
“Try the stern,” I said, “a little back of that life preserver.”
The searchlights swung out to play on the water around the flare that was attached to the life preserver.
A small boat splashed into the water.
There was the sound of oars and a boat rowed rapidly down the stream, then turned and came back against the current.
A man standing in the bow bent down, searching the water by the aid of a beam from a five cell hand flashlight.
“Let’s get everyone on deck. Find out if anyone’s missing as ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is claiming that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is. Let’s confirm what’s actually happened.”
I turned at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Have you seen anyone else?”
“A man standing in the stern. I take it he was one of the crew.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Al Zohrah Al Bittol significantly, “A woman running down the deck, clad in her night clothes.”
“Do you know her?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah pointed at Al Zohrah Al Bittol.*
Chapter 54
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Yacht: Index
Posted: April 29, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentIndex
Midterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
The Yacht
Thrill, Sex, Suspense, Politics
Chapter 10
————————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 52
Posted: April 29, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Amīnah Zahīr, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Aħmad Kamāl, Åābidah Ibrār Ålvī, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Khulfa e rashideen, Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Kamāl, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nevada, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 52
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Durgesh Al Samīnah Al Qāsim
Durgesh Amīnah Zahīr
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I’m destroying the Musalmīn and the Musalmīn are so foolish that they are calling me Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated.”
“Because you are using your Seven Movements to advertise your extraordinary spiritual capabilities among Musalmīn.” I smiled at her niftily, still fucking Amīnah Zahīr.
“And Musalmīn don’t understand it?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan kept smiling.
“You are shrewd enough to understand the shortcomings of Musalmīn. Most of them are blindly superstitious, because they are Uneducated/Under Educated. The Uneducated/Under Educated Mullahs and Maulavīs oppose their modern education so that their followers may not abandon them. You are influencing the Mullahs and Maulavīs themselves.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan complaining.
“Bājī, I’ve myself seen you and your agents bribing these Mullahs and Maulavīs and other Musalmīn of influence.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched him curtly.
“The problem with Abbū Imām, Durgesh, you and other similar ideologists is, you always argue about means. You never see the practical impossibility of your ever Utopian suggestions.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled at me.
“Jījū, your utmost successful Practical Chief Wife is criticizing even you now.”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Well, what’s wrong in criticizing him if he is wrong? He never claimed to be Omniscient.”
I smiled merely.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan continued to say.
“He himself admits no one is Omniscient except Allah Rabbil Åālmīn. He knows so many things more than we do. He has experienced so many incidences than we have. Naturally he understands so many things more than we do, and more deeply too. But that’s all. That’s the limit of your Jījū too. Beyond that he too assesses everything. And his assessment may be wrong too as well as it may be right. Am I right, my love?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at me.
“Right.” I smiled, “Sorry Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, I’m too a human being. Even my assessments may be wrong. I too don’t, and can’t, know everything.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
“Sorry, Jījū.”
“The difference between Abbū Imām and Durgesh is that Abbū Imām is an ideologist only, while Durgesh is a Practical Ideologist. Abbū Imām can dream better but as he is far more behind than Durgesh in both knowledge and experiences, he doesn’t know how to make his dreams true optimum as Durgesh does.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand beamed at me with immense pride.
“But,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled unwearyingly, “similarly Durgesh isn’t a woman, is he?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand laughed.
“Jījū is the Absolute Man.”
“Yet, not a woman.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan repeated insistently.
“Oh, sure.”
“Therefore he can’t understand what we womankind need actually as optimum as I can.”
“Bājī,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand protested.
“There are so many things, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, that we womankind never tell even our life partners.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at me.
I was grave now.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.
“Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, you believe your Jījū more than you believe your Bājī, don’t you?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand watched her gravely.
“My morals are more identical with Jījū, Bājī. I never hide it from anyone.”
“You, your Jījū, Abbū Imām, you all never try to understand how to get Pseudo Musalmīn votes. The Pseudo Musalmīn are actually the most confused persons in the Multiverse.”
“I see.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand said gravely.
“The Pseudo Musalmīn are actually always the pendulums between True Islam and Pseudo Islam.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr interrupted.
“The police has told me that it isn’t established beyond doubt that the victim of the murderer is Colonel Åbdul Raħmān.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled ironically.
“The police is playing a deep game so that Ved Nagar can’t be held politically responsible for the murder of one of my Commandos. It’s only a razzle dazzle. Both the nations India and Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat do understand they don’t want to antagonize Ved Nagar. They can’t afford it.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr laughed.
“Ved Nagar can do anything?”
“Almost anything.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled triumphantly.
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr looked at Amīnah Zahīr.
“I’m unable to understand, my lady, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat is smiling triumphantly however her reliable commando is murdered. The police say they can’t establish beyond doubt that the body is really that of Colonel Åbdul Raħmān. She has deputed Colonel Åbdul Raħmān on some secret mission and Ved Nagar administration itself has helped her, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat actually.”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr, you are promoted to be the leader of Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn. Congratulations. You really understand what we do more efficiently than the rest of you.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr bowed half to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, respectfully.
“Shukriyah, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated.”
Amīnah Zahīr smiled.
“Bājī, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated, I own a ranch in Nevada as well as I own a ranch here at Ved Nagar too, both with Durgesh, of course, as you yourself own each and every property you have, with Durgesh, yourself, everywhere, even in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. It’s rather a large holding. Durgesh likes it. I like to live there with Durgesh. Durgesh loves Musalmān Beauties, Musalmān houseladies especially. There’s a guest ranch, a so called dude ranch, adjoining our property in Nevada. I find some of the guests women who stay there are rather interesting. It’s unfortunate that they find Durgesh more interesting rather than me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed sensitively.
Amīnah Zahīr only kept smiling respectfully.
“As you can well judge yourself, Bājī, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā reincarnated, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, many of these guest Musalmān Beauties, Musalmān houseladies, are not there simply because they like the idea of recreation on a guest ranch in Nevada. They are there because they want to establish a six weeks’ residence in order to get a divorce.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand watched his wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim gravely.*
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim winked at her husband impishly.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand averted his eyes hastily to look at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, me and Muħammad bin Qāsim whether anyone of us has noticed it.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was not backward, yet he was relatively more sophisticated than his ever impish ever naughty wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand respected Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me both more.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, instead, always teased both of us.
She was my Sālī after all, my sister in law.
Amīnah Zahīr joined Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan this time in smiling cunningly as well.
“I am frank to admit that most of those Musalmān Beauties, those Musalmān houseladies, take interest in Durgesh usually, naturally.”
“Naturally?” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim nudged me.
“Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim!” I admonished her.
“Sure,” Amīnah Zahīr said, “yet we can’t blame them. They are there for divorce. It’s obvious they are separated from their husbands already. Consequently, missing sex and a loving masculine attention already for a relatively long time. When they find even Durgesh is available to them, well, they start to enjoy sex with Durgesh sooner or later.”
“Every one of them?” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim teased us impishly.
“Almost every one of them.” Amīnah Zahīr smiled sophisticatedly, “Usually, I mean, of course.”
“Of course.” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim’s impish eyes twinkled conspicuously.
Amīnah Zahīr winked at Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim and continued.
“The women who sever their domestic ties go to a state where they have no friends. They find themselves, usually for the first time in years, entirely on their own. They are apt to be lonesome, naturally. Consequently, apt to be seeking companionship too with as powerful a man as they can get. I happen to have a ranch that is accessible. Durgesh happens to be available as an utmost caring, utmost lovable, utmost loyal, utmost reliable, masculine friend. Why the hell they don’t take the advantage of the opportunity?”
“I agree with you, Amīnah Zahīr.” Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim smiled cunningly.*
Amīnah Zahīr smiled.
“I had always lived on my ranch and enjoyed it until Al Samīnah Al Qāsim came to Nevada, to establish a residence on this adjoining dude ranch. She liked Durgesh and enjoyed more sex with Durgesh than she had enjoyed with even Abbū Imām, her husband. Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was a very determined and a very resourceful woman. She had a very definite plan of operation. We became very good friends gradually. Yet, I had long been for the right sort of investment here in Ved Nagar. Who doesn’t now, if s/he is capable? My real estate broker found this place. It was offered at what I considered a bargain as price go these days. I talked with Durgesh. Durgesh approved my decision. I told my dealer to close the deal without letting the owners even suspect that Durgesh was too involved anywhere. It would have caused the price to go to the sky. The deal was closed very quietly keeping the news as far as possible out of media.
“When our dealer had the property all in escrow, I simply slipped from my ranch in Nevada. Durgesh told Al Samīnah Al Qāsim that I had been called away very suddenly on business that would keep me out of state for some time. I would get in touch with Al Samīnah Al Qāsim as an opportunity presented itself. In the meantime I was working on a deal that was so confidential I couldn’t take any chance of having any slip.
“Durgesh and I jumped in our own private plane and flew to Denver. We had to stop for a few hours at our Denver branch office of HVSI Group of Companies, then flew for Ved Nagar. We picked up a new automobile that had been ready for delivery to our order, and came here to this place.
“I was very careful not to let Al Samīnah Al Qāsim know where I was. Durgesh was already available to her in his another body. Why the hell she had to pay any attention to what the damn I was doing? When Durgesh is available himself, the all a Musalmān Beauty, the all a Musalmān houselady is interested ever is undress Durgesh completely, undress herself completely, and enjoy sex with Durgesh as much as she can.”
Amīnah Zahīr was smiling cunningly now.
It was not easy for Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand to believe a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty could be that cunning.
His Bājī, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was really transforming the Musalmān Beauties, the Musalmān houseladies, miraculously.
Actually, his Bājī, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was herself a miracle after the greater miracle, Durgesh.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī was following Durgesh step by step very adroitly.
Moreover, she knew very well, very meticulously, where to deviate from Durgesh to transform Musalmān Beauties and extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houseladies to use them optimum for establishing her dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
It was a miracle the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, criminals/criminal minded Musalmīn were being cuckolded fastest under her Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī knew very well how to deal with the bastards.
Now, almost the entire global media even is acknowledging her ever great achievements.
It’s being written and discussed now surreptitiously that the Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had effectively decreased the terrorist and criminal activities of Pseudo Musalmīn, even though the movements are in themselves not as humane as they should have been.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has laughed.
“Humanity with the animals who never respect any human life except that of Pseudo Musalmīn? Never. I’ll cuckold every one of them, bastards. I’m not Durgesh. They are enjoying Durgesh’s so called humanity on the cost of innocent persons’ very life. I’m Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I have my own definition of humanity. Cuckold the bastards who never respect human life if it’s not a Pseudo Musalmān.” *
Amīnah Zahīr was grave now.
“The information that Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was in Ved Nagar comes out as a distinct surprise to me. She did not come here, however, last night or any other time to have the gasoline tank of her automobile filled. I haven’t seen her since I left Nevada. She is a very lovable woman, however. I happen to know that, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, however, had a deep seated fear of her husband, Abbū Imām. She was planning something. I don’t know exactly what it was but I do know that Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was very much afraid of what her husband, Abbū Imām, would do when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim started to put her plan into execution.
“There are some things, however, I won’t like to say here in the presence of witnesses. But Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was talking of a picture, Abbū Imām and Durgesh’s yacht.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was suddenly all alert now.
“How do you know Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was talking of Durgesh Jījū’s yacht? I think it was another yacht that belongs to Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim. My wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, knows about it more, I think.”*
Out on deck, on my ‘yacht’, I found the fog had thickened until it was impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction.
The ship was facing upstream now.
Standing up there, I could hear the sullen gurgle of cold water as the current swirled around the anchor chain.
Confidently, thoughtfully, I moved aft, reached the stem of the vessel.
I saw a member of the crew.
He appeared to me to be so.
I didn’t know him personally.
Neither it was possible for me to know everyone personally who was in my staff.
I had a large staff even on this ship.
He was bundled up in a heavy mackinaw.
Standing motionless, I thought he must have been a night watchman.
If my assumption was correct he hadn’t to care anything for the guests.
He had only to wait simply the night out, standing there as still as a statue.
I walked back again toward I came from.
Suddenly, I stumbled over a piece of rope.
I couldn’t kick it to one side.
It must not be there.
Hell, the security must be instructed to find out and inform me why it was there.
The security in charge regretted the incidence and promised me to find out immediately.
I walked back to a position amidships on the starboard side.
I stood there for some ten minutes lost in thought.
I was aroused suddenly.
It was a sudden stabbing sound of a woman’s shrill scream, from the vicinity of the bow.
A sharp report followed almost instantly by a peculiar series of muffled splashes.
I looked to the stem.
The man who had been on duty as watchman was no longer there.
It was possible he had run to the bow, keeping to the port side.
Was he really a watchman?
Now I doubted even it.
I turned to dash back toward the bow.
I heard the soft patter of hurrying feet and then, almost without warning, a figure, walking confidently down the deck, collided with me.
I felt the soft touch of damp silk.
My nostrils caught the faint scent of perfume.
I realized the woman I was holding in my arms was stunning, confident and definitely not in panic, even infinitesimally.*
My first assessment was that she was the woman who screamed.
She was the woman the soft patter of whose hurrying feet I had heard.
But the stunning Beauty I was holding in my arms was neither hurrying, nor she was in any condition so that I could say she was the woman who screamed.
It was a sudden stabbing sound of a woman’s shrill scream, from the vicinity of the bow.
I couldn’t forget it.
I could feel the pumping of her heart, the tension of her muscles.
Her hand moved and inadvertently it touched my ever sensitive rising Uncut Hindu Penis.
Yet I was suddenly all alert.
I had caught the glint of faintly reflected light from some metallic object.
I realized immediately she was carrying a gun.
From up near the bow I was expecting the cry that was so ominous to seamen the world over.
‘Man overboard. MAN OVERRR-BOARD!!’
But no, it wasn’t there.
Nevertheless, from the sea, there came a series of thumping noises against the side of the ship.
It seemed that some struggling kicking object was swept past by the current on the side of the ship opposite to that where I was standing.*
There followed an instant of silence.
The extremely stunning Beauty in my arms had deliberately grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis now.
She was even playing with it now, even more confidently than she came into my arms colliding with me.
It was my ship.
I owned it.
But I didn’t know who this dazzling Beauty was.
She was anywhere around twenty eight.
The most she could be, thirty, not more.
Her build, body and behavior was telling me that she herself was too a Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty.
Her frankness was telling me, she belonged to one of the ever notorious Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
I didn’t know why I had a feeling now that I had seen her with Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl.
She resembled Åābidah Ibrār Ålvī very much.
Yet, I could not place her still now.
Then I suddenly placed her.
I hadn’t seen her with Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl.
I had seen her with Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl instead.
She was present when I kicked Muħammad Kamāl and Aħmad Kamāl both out of their own house, claiming that Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, and Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl, 20, were, all the three, my wives now.
She was standing there enjoying the incidence very much.
Chapter 53
———————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies: 2- Of my Musalmān Enemies: Index
Posted: April 29, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentThe Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
2: Of my Musalmān Enemies
Indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat
Index of Chapters
Chapter 2
———————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Extent: Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband:17
Posted: April 28, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Åāýéshah Abu Bakr, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Jamīl, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ħafsah Nisār 1 CommentChapter 17
Durgesh Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah
Durgesh Ħafsah Nisār
Muħammad Jamīl, the Cuckold
Muħammad Jamīl never questioned Ħafsah Nisār, ever.
He hated having to clean her after she’s been with me but Muħammad Jamīl never talked back when she told him to do it.
Muħammad Jamīl usually did it at the door as Ħafsah Nisār returned home from a date.
He used to do the best he could imagine what it’s like to be allowed to go down on her without my presence, without my cum inside Ħafsah Nisār.
Muħammad Jamīl had never told her that; never let her know he even think such a thing.
He said something about that once…only once.
Muħammad Jamīl got slapped and asked he wanted to be forbidden to service here like that.
He loved when she let Muħammad Jamīl do that for her, rewarded him by letting him be the source of her sexual pleasure, use his mouth to worship her.
Muħammad Jamīl thought Ħafsah Nisār knows this about him, knows his devotion to her and the pleasure Muħammad Jamīl get from pleasing her.
But Muħammad Jamīl knew that she doesn’t care and that she always comes first, not Muħammad Jamīl.
Muħammad Jamīl knew that to service Ħafsah Nisār submissively is part of what Muħammad Jamīl does because he loved her.
Muħammad Jamīl hated the taste of me!
Hate tasting my Hindu cum and feel jealous that I came first as well, not Muħammad Jamīl.
Muħammad Jamīl always imagined what it must be like to be the real man Durgesh is, have the Uncut Hindu Lund Ħafsah Nisār loves and adores.
Durgesh is her ever efficient, ever successful, Hindu lover and Muħammad Jamīl was only her cuckold Musalmān husband.
Ħafsah Nisār had been sitting in my car in the driveway.
We’d been out there for half an year at least.
Muħammad Jamīl had been waiting for her as he always did.
When Ħafsah Nisār finally came into the house, heard me drive off as she opened the front door, Ħafsah Nisār looked down at Muħammad Jamīl and smiled.
“Such a good little boy…I was looking forward to coming home. Believe it or not I do think about you, baby, thought about you and sometimes worry about you home all alone.”
As Ħafsah Nisār raised her skirt and looked down at Muħammad Jamīl, Muħammad Jamīl kissed her panties, smelled me all over her, and saw some of my Hindu cum on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān thigh…noticed more cum than usual, Ħafsah Nisār had covered with me…my Hindu cum all over the tops of her stocking too.
Muħammad Jamīl felt shame as Muħammad Jamīl kissed her gently.
Ħafsah Nisār asked if Muħammad Jamīl missed her while she was away.
Muħammad Jamīl told her yes, missed her terribly.
Ħafsah Nisār hummed as Muħammad Jamīl kissed her through her panties, on his knees in front of her…
Muħammad Jamīl buried his face in her.
Ħafsah Nisār pushed Muħammad Jamīl away,
“Ouch!”…
She saw the look on his face as Muħammad Jamīl looked up at her…
“You are such a good little boy! But not tonight, baby. Mama’s real tired, real sore too. I’m so sore. Can’t begin to tell you how Durgesh used me tonight, I just have to go to bed. But you’re very good boy to be waiting for me. Maybe tomorrow I’ll let you lick me.”
She smiled down at her ever incompetent Musalmān husband, Muħammad Jamīl, and patted the side of his face.
She saw the panic in his face, Muħammad Jamīl didn’t dare talk back.
“Yes, Ma’am.”, Muħammad Jamīl looked to the floor as Ħafsah Nisār lowered her skirt.
“I just wanted you to kiss me when I came home, kiss your wife at the door. I really did miss you tonight, thought about you. Does that please you, baby?” She walked past Muħammad Jamīl, heels clicking on the floor as she headed to the stairs.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you.”, Muħammad Jamīl watched her beautiful rear start up the stairs.
“You sleep in the basement tonight; Muħammad Jamīl, my boy, my ever obedient perfect slave, I don’t want to be disturbed or woken early.” She turned and looked at her ever inept Musalmān husband, Muħammad Jamīl. “By the way, Durgesh appreciates everything you do at the office and he loves that you never bother me at home, pester me for sexual favors. Durgesh asked me about you, asked if you do. Muħammad Jamīl, he told me…he said to tell you that you are a very good boy not to bother me.”
Ħafsah Nisār looked at her ever incompetent Musalmān husband, Muħammad Jamīl,, seriously…
“You’re going to keep being a good, boy…right?”
Muħammad Jamīl looked up at her…naked, on his knees…
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She turned and walked to her bedroom. “Muħammad Jamīl, Durgesh thought you’re about to get a pay raise at work.. He’ll talk to you about it.”
Muħammad Jamīl heard the door close.
Ħafsah Nisār had been seeing Durgesh regularly now for almost three months.*
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought the words in her head but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah just couldn’t bring herself to utter them allowed.
My Hindu hips thrust into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah from behind.
My balls banging up against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s swollen hood, stretching Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot lips wider.
Every time Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah pushed back, I chuckled again.
“You won’t get it until you tell me you want it.” I warned, gently, teasing. “Say it, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah,” I was whimpering now, “Tell me; say, “Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wants you to fuck Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tight little Musalmān asshole too.” and I will honey, I’ll fuck your outstanding admirable elegant flawless firm corpulent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass for as long as you want me too. But not until you expressly ask for it.”
“Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Oh God! I need it very much there, please!” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah groaned.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot was getting wetter by the second and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī throbbing Musalmān clit was throbbing tremendously.
I knew that Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wanted it too bad, but I was determined that I wouldn’t do anything about it until Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah especially asked me for it.
In my opinion, it was an abnormal wish.
In Tantr, sometimes it’s necessary.
But for pleasure only, I never did it unless someone especially asked me for it.
If only pleasure was to be enjoyed, it was not a human pleasure at all.
It was an animal pleasure.
But a man has to surrender to his sex partner’s wishes too, whether normal or abnormal, if it wasn’t harmful to anyone.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah did want it.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t deny it.
The thought of my Uncut Hindu Lund inside Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s outstanding excellent gorgeous perfect firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass was driving her wild.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was so wet, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit was pulsing.
The ache was unbearable, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was so close to cumming, it wasn’t funny.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah swallowed, trying to wet her throat.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t believe Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was going to do this.
“Please, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah started, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s voice small and unsure. “Please, I want… I want…”
“Come on honey, tell me what you want.” Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt encouraged her softly from behind.
“Oh, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah moaned, “I want you to fuck my tight little Musalmān ass too after you fuck my ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot!”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah made the words rush out of her before Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah lost her nerve, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could feel her face blushing furiously in embarrassment.*
Muħammad Jamīl could hear her through the door, hear her yell,
“Fuck, ooooooooooo!. Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu , ..fuck me…!” Baby…fuck me…”… Muħammad Jamīl also heard the sound of my Hindu hand across Ħafsah Nisār’s excellent Musalmān rear…SMACK!, heard me slap her ardent Musalmān rear as I fucked Ħafsah Nisār.
Muħammad Jamīl, Ħafsah Nisār’s duly married husband, could only think that Durgesh, his Hindu Jījū, his Hindu Dūlhā Bhāī, must be taking Muħammad Jamīl’s wife, Ħafsah Nisār, from behind, rear up for me to use.
SMACK, SMACK!
Muħammad Jamīl hated that sound, wanted to run to her, make me stop.
Muħammad Jamīl know better.
“I am your complete little Musalmān bitch, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, you own me…ooooooooo, I’m your little girl, baby, fuck me…!”
Muħammad Jamīl heard us, muffled through the door…heard Ħafsah Nisār start to almost cry as I spanked and fucked her.
Muħammad Jamīl heard his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār, bury her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān face in the bed…hear me yell at her…
“You like that dirty talk, girl…enjoy it!”
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!…
Muħammad Jamīl heard his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār, told me I can do anything to her; heard his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār, told me Ħafsah Nisār had me.
And Muħammad Jamīl knew how I used her like this.
Muħammad Jamīl knew about his ‘special need’, as she called it.
It’s the second time I’d fucked her.
I didn’t spank her the first time.
Ħafsah Nisār loved spanking herself.
She herself compelled me to spank her.
Muħammad Jamīl couldn’t even protest.
There wasn’t any use of it.
Ħafsah Nisār wanted to punish Muħammad Jamīl.
Muħammad Jamīl had to surrender.
What the hell else could Muħammad Jamīl do, after all?
Muħammad Jamīl heard the bed springs.
I was really fucking her hard.
Muħammad Jamīl listened from down stairs, hang on our every sexual sound…feel his little cut Musalmān nūnī stiffen every time Ħafsah Nisār got penetrated by me.
I arrived an hour and a half ago, and walked past Muħammad Jamīl at the door.
I smiled at Muħammad Jamīl as he looked to the floor, naked and his little cut Musalmān nūnī harness locked tight.
“Is your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār, upstairs, Sālé Miyān?”
“Yes, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Dūlhā Bhāī. Yes my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Jījū. Yes, Sir.” Muħammad Jamīl answered me.
I handed Muħammad Jamīl my coat.
“Take it.” I smiled at him humiliating Muħammad Jamīl immensely.
Muħammad Jamīl couldn’t do anything.
He had a little cut Musalmān nūnī, not my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
Muħammad Jamīl was naked ironically, however.
He was always naked in the house usually.
Ħafsah Nisār wanted him so to disgrace him immensely.
Muħammad Jamīl felt my sympathetic yet proud confident Hindu eyes on Muħammad Jamīl. “Muħammad Jamīl, I had been thinking about your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār, all day. Muħammad Jamīl, I had been thinking about spanking her too. Thinking about that hot great Musalmān ass. What’s she wearing now?”
“Green, Sir, all green. The outfit you bought her, the little girl outfit.”
“Mmmmm, I like that. My little girl, got that outfit off a sissy website, same one you got the pink ruffled panties for her off, She loves the ruffled panties on her, shows off that cute Musalmān rear end…had her describe that little outfit at a party last night, and two of my Musalmān lady clients were in the room. She told them about being dressed in lace panties and ankle sox for me.”
I took off my suit coat and handed it to Muħammad Jamīl…
“Got them so turned on! Wish she’d had it on last night. It was all spur of the moment, maybe next time dress her like that for them. She still looked very cute in the black stockings and panties she wore. Should have seen the look on my clients faces when she took her dress off, I wish you had a picture of that…maybe next time for that too.”
I looked at Muħammad Jamīl.
“I hope you didn’t bother her when she got home. She was very much worn out when Ħafsah Nisār left. She needs her rest and beauty sleep.”
I walked past Muħammad Jamīl.
Muħammad Jamīl knew why she didn’t let Muħammad Jamīl lick her clean now and knew why she was too sore and tired.
“No, Sir, I would never do that.”
I walked to the stairs,
“Get me a drink, Muħammad Jamīl, bring it to her room.”
Muħammad Jamīl heard me go into her bedroom and close the door behind me.
Ħafsah Nisār never let Muħammad Jamīl go down on her as she said she might, just had Muħammad Jamīl do house work all day, strictly.
She spent time preparing for me, went shopping, and when she came home Ħafsah Nisār let Muħammad Jamīl watch as she dressed and made up for me.
He could still see her, smell her perfume.
She was standing in a green short see-through robe, green lace little girl outfit on underneath it.
Ruffled panties, ruffled lace top ankle sox and 3″ green patent leather heels…no bra…her hair up in little girl pony tails in green ribbons on the side…red lipstick…
“I hear Durgesh’s car in the drive. How do I look, Muħammad Jamīl, my slave cuckold Musalmān husband?” Ħafsah Nisār turned, looked in the mirror.
“Gorgeous, Ma’am…you are beautiful…”
Ħafsah Nisār cut Muħammad Jamīl off in mid-sentence.
Muħammad Jamīl felt as always, anxious, knew what was coming next.
“You are a very good boy, go down stairs, wait by the door and let Durgesh in when he comes. He likes when you do that.”
Ħafsah Nisār sat on the bed, checked herself in the mirror as Muħammad Jamīl left.
Muħammad Jamīl thought about that as he hurried to mix my juice, took it up to me…knocked on the door gently.
I opened the door, took it off the tray.
I had my pants and shoes off.
Muħammad Jamīl saw his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār, in the mirror, sitting on the bed smiling…looking at me, not at Muħammad Jamīl…her robe was on the floor.
Muħammad Jamīl was at the down stairs door two hours later, when Muħammad Jamīl helped me on with my suit and over coat.
“I’ll see you at work, Sālé Miyān.” I said, looking down at his little cut Musalmān nūnī harness, smiling and shaking my head.
“Yes, Sir.” Muħammad Jamīl looked at the floor.
He felt my naked almost impotent Musalmān body under my stare, felt his soft little cut Musalmān nūnī barely sticking out of his little cut Musalmān nūnī harness, barely saw the tip of it…shaved baby smooth.
My eyes were looking Muħammad Jamīl over.
I didn’t say another word to Muħammad Jamīl.
Just took my coat and left.
Muħammad Jamīl knelt by the door waiting for her…to ring the bell Ħafsah Nisār kept next to the bed…waited to clean her if she wanted Muħammad Jamīl to.
‘Ring, ring’ Muħammad Jamīl heard his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār, ring the bell, loudly.
Muħammad Jamīl hurried to his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān wife, Ħafsah Nisār.*
I told her as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt another big glob of ointment hit her outstanding excellent gorgeous perfect firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
“Mmm, that’s all right. Okay.”
And then my Uncut Hindu Lund was pressing hard against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tight front hole.
I wiggled my Uncut Hindu Lund against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s opening as I pressed down, making her whimper in expected pleasure.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt it finally break the seal and I slowly slid my Uncut Hindu Lund deep inside Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s outstanding excellent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān front hole.
The pain was minimal to begin with and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah enjoyed the feeling of my Uncut Hindu Lund buried deepest inside her.
But then I started moving it, stroking in and out of her in time with my hips and the sensation it created was intense.
The pain made her hiss in a breath and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s face scrunched up in an awful pleasant pleasure.
Sound freely escaped Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat as the pleasure and pain reduced her to nothing but feelings.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was lost in the sensation of it all, the fact that I was Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s best friend’s Ammī’s Hindu Live in Relationship Partner diminished in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s mind and I became just a man, a man that was fucking her passionately and wildly.
“Oh yeah!” I, the Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, smiled playfully.
My voice was rumbling in my chest.
My other hand reached around Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hip and I began fingering Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit for me too.
It was all too much.
My fingers on Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit, my Uncut Hindu Lund in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot, it all sent her skyrocketing towards a huge orgasm, and to push her that much faster, I started talking to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Yeah, such a good little Uncut Hindu Lund-tease, such a horny young adult Musalmān sex goddess! You love having your outstanding admirable elegant flawless firm corpulent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot fucked by me, don’t you? “
My Hindu thrusts were getting faster and harder. “You’d love to feel my big Uncut Hindu Lund slide into your outstanding admirable elegant flawless firm corpulent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and pop that cherry wouldn’t you?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah only smiled at me.
She didn’t say anything.
“Oh yeah; I can feel how wet that Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot of yours is getting just thinking about how My Uncut Hindu Lund would feel inside your outstanding admirable elegant flawless firm corpulent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass …”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot began to clench down hard.
“Mmm, oh you’re close to squirting, aren’t you baby. C’mon Uncut Hindu Lund-tease, Musalmān sex goddess, cream for me, cum.”
My Hindu thrusts were hard and rough, almost violent as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hips were repeatedly slammed against the sink top.
Cries of intense passion and pain being ripped from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat with every thrust, as I brought her closer to orgasm.
“Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, my darling, I want to feel you cream on My Uncut Hindu Lund now, wet it all down so I can unload my hot Hindu cum inside that quivering Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot of yours, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had somehow pressed herself up onto her hands over the kitchen sink.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breasts bounced utmost enticingly from my extremely powerful Hindu thrusts.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s legs shook behind me close to collapsing, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t stop the primal sounds of fucking coming from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat,
“Agh, agh, agh… agh… please! Oh please, Allah, yā Allah! Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Oh God, oh Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt! What are you doing? None can believe you are sixty plus! You are killing me, my Hindu love,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah cried out as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s orgasm hit me like a truck.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breath was catching in her throat.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah came all over my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot was now clenching down tighter onto my Hindu length and making me groan as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah collapsed back over the sink in a shaking heap.
“Yes!” I grunted from behind her, “Oh yeah, here, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I cum honey, take it all!”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my hips thump into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah one last time and my Uncut Hindu Lund throbbed inside her, emptying my hot load of thick hot Hindu cum into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s awaiting clasping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān love tunnel.
I thrust into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah a couple more times, milking my Uncut Hindu Lund with Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
My breath was heaving.
My fingers were still cupped against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was still inside Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot, as we settled and came down from the high.
One by one, I removed my limbs from her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body.
My hand moved away from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit, leaving it to throb dully as it cooled.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah hissed in pain; until finally it was time for me to pull out of her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah knew there would be no way for me to pull out without causing some amount of pain.
So Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah absently braced herself dreading the thought of embarrassing herself by crying out.
I pushed into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah hard; one last time, as my Uncut Hindu Lund was starting to soften and then pulled back so fast Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah barely felt me slip from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s stretched opening.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gasped in shock at my quick retreat, because it felt so incredibly good, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot gush as my Hindu spunk followed my withdrawal.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah heard me inhale deeply and then Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my lips brush against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s spine that made her shiver.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah tried to lift herself up, but her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body refused to obey her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t move.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s head was spinning and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s legs felt like they were made of jelly.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my hands trail down Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s legs, stroking the skin softly all the way to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ankles, where I took hold of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s panties and gently pulled them up for her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breath was finally starting to settle into some sense of normalcy.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah tried again to right her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body, but again it failed to heed her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s face was pressed awkwardly against the ribbed steel of the kitchen sink and I’m sure Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was drooling.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my rough hands then fix the straps on Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s chemise and pull the material up to cover Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s chest.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah still couldn’t make her limbs move.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah heard the tap run and fought to open her eyes but they felt as heavy as lead and all Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could do was flutter them uselessly in an attempt to see what her Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt was doing.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was slowly sinking into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.
I had fucked her so hard.
Yet, she was grateful to me for it.
It had made her realize that she was not alone to love me.
I too loved her not less.
Only she was not dying to have me forever.
I too wanted her as my Live in Relationship Partner.
It was certainly a great honor for her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt something cold and wet pressed against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s face and sluggishly realized that I was wiping Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s face clean.
The wet rag moved to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s inner thighs as I wiped away that evidence too.
That done, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my lips press lightly against the corner of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth as I kissed her fiercely, passionately with intense love for her.
“Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah,” I whispered into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ear as I brushed the hair back from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s brow.
My intensely loving voice sounded penetrating her very soul.
“Come on honey. Let’s get back to bed.”
I dragged her up into a standing position and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt herself falling until my arms caught her up.
I cradled her against my chest.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah managed to get her eyes open enough to see that out the window morning had broken and the sky was changing from dull grey to pale blue.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah only saw it for a few moments but can remember thinking how beautiful it looked before Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sank back down into darkness.
Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Måshā Allah Subħān Allah!
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah awoke to the sound of muffled voices and groaned as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah rolled over in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s bed.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was immensely happy that I had fucked her whole night.
It was the proof that she was not imposing, not thrusting herself on me.
She was needed.
It was good that my entire rough primary attitude was ultimately melted into an extremely pleasant, honoring and immensely loving behavior.
We are not only fuckers now.
We were actually lovers.
Made for each other.
Mad for each other.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled now triumphantly.
She had succeeded now in winning the great Durgesh forever for herself.
She suspected it wouldn’t be so easy.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad had made me somewhat bitter about even the other Jet Musalmān Beauties.
That was why I behaved with her so rough primarily.
Her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body ached with a vengeance.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt as though she’d been beaten with a really big stick.
Figuratively speaking, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah broke out in giggles as the thought flitted through Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s mind.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sobered quickly when Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah heard footsteps approaching her door.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s stomach thrilled in anticipation.
Was it Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt?
Was I coming back to do more to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah?
As painful as it was Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot clench and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit tingle, would her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body ever stop reacting like this.
There was a light knock at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s door,
“Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah? Are you awake?” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr’s voice called through the door.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sighed, half in relief, half in disappointment.
“Yeah, come in.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah called groggily.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was after all only half-awake.
The door opened and in bounced Åāýéshah Abū Bakr, full of beans and smiling broadly.
“Hey sleepy head.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed softly,
“Hiya. How was your night?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah asked, thinking to herself, mine was great!
“Fantastic!” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr quietly squealed as she came over and sat on the bed beside her, a huge smile on her face. “Actually that’s why I was coming in here to wake you up.” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr told her.
“Oh?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah queried, “Do tell.”
“Well, Vikram wanted to know if you wanted to come out with us again.”
“Really?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah asked in a teasing tone. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure that you didn’t kinda convince me that I wanted to know even though I didn’t?”
“What do you mean?” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr asked trying to sound innocent.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed,
“I knew it. He didn’t ask at all, did he?”
“Well no, but I know he won’t mind.” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr said.
“He’ll pretend not to mind, but believe me, he’ll mind.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed again, the merry sound masking Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s relief at not having to go out again.
Oh Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had missed Åāýéshah Abū Bakr terribly, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah really wanted to spend time with her, but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t really want to spend time with her and Vikram and feel like Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was intruding.
“I don’t want you to feel as though you’re being left out though, especially as you’re here for a holiday with me.” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr said guiltily.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sighed and smiled.
“I’d rather feel left out than feel like a spare wheel.”
Åāýéshah Abū Bakr opened her mouth to protest but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah waved her quiet.
“I know you would never do it on purpose, hon. But believe me, three’s a crowd when you’re first starting out in a relationship. You don’t need me there to chaperone. You go out and have fun. I’ll be fine here. I’m still jet lagged anyways and cranky, so I won’t be very good company. Besides, if I get really bored, I can always go annoy Durgesh.” Having finished Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s little rant, Åāýéshah Abū Bakr laughed at her.
“Oh I’m sure Durgesh won’t mind. At least he’d have someone to talk to.” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr said seriously. “Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I worry about him sometimes. You know, he hasn’t even brought a girlfriend here since I could feel awkward in his scrupulously erroneous opinion. I’m a big girl now, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah. I understand his extraordinary needs.” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr confided in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
It was on the tip of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tongue to say, “I could’ve fooled me,” but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t, instead saying, “Really?”
“Yeah. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I mean it can’t be healthy for a man to be celibate for that long surely.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah nearly choked on Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s own saliva as Åāýéshah Abū Bakr spoke, but managed to remain quiet and in control even though Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was unable to look at her just then.
“Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I know I shouldn’t be talking like this, he is Durgesh and all, but sometimes Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I wish he’d just go out and get himself laid.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah did choke then, coughing roughly and trying to clear her throat.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah dropped her head even more worried that the guilty look on Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s face would be too easily read.
“Are you all right?” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr gasped trying to help Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah recover.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah waved her away, and as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat cleared Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah started laughing.
The absurdity of the situation was not lost on her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought that at least if Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was laughing she wouldn’t see the guilt.
Here was Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s best friend telling her she wished Durgesh would go out and get laid, and here Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was thinking, “Allah, yā Allah! Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! God, if you only knew!” As it was, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah knew Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t say anything of the like to her.
“What? What’s so funny?” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr demanded a little upset at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s reaction.
“Åāýéshah Abū Bakr, how do you know that Durgesh doesn’t? Isn’t he utmost infamous for almost 24x7x365 fucking us Musalmān Beauties and extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said unthinkingly to cover her reaction.
“What do you mean? Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I just know. He never says he’s going out or even gone out in all this time I’ve been living here.”
“But Åāýéshah Abū Bakr,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said gently, committed to answering now that I’d put Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s foot in it. “That doesn’t mean that Durgesh hasn’t gone out. How often do you go out; either with friends or with Vikram? Durgesh could have easily gone out on his own then.”
Åāýéshah Abū Bakr’s face crinkled.
“Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I suppose, but Durgesh would tell me. He tells me everything, we’re like best friends.”
Not everything!
Obviously!
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought to Herself remembering the night we’d spent together and then felt ashamed of Herself.
“Maybe; but Hon, do you honestly thought Durgesh doesn’t get laid? If he went out tonight he’d be able to pull so much excellent Musalmān ass it wouldn’t even be funny.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah told her truthfully. “I think you’re not giving Durgesh enough credit.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah also thought you’re getting into it too much and should shut the hell up! Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought to herself.
The last thing Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah needed was to slip up and mention something that could land her in a load of hot water.
“Oh yeah Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I forgot,” Åāýéshah Abū Bakr teased. “You thought Durgesh’s utmost sexy!” She giggled.
Chapter 18
——————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies: 2- Of my Musalmān Enemies-1
Posted: April 28, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, Nādirshāh Durrānī, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex 5 CommentsThe Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
2: Of my Musalmān Enemies
Indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat
Chapter 1
Durgesh Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī
Durgesh Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ
The beach was one of my most favorite places to be. Not just for the Musalmān babes but for feeling of the sun warming my skin while the cool breeze coming off the ocean to cool me off.
Today I was just relaxing by myself and taking in the rays.
I think I half drifted off a few times but I was just aware enough to realize that some clouds had moved in blocking the sun.
I also noticed the temperature dropping a few degrees.
Anyone from some place with a beach knows that means it’s about to start raining.
I opened my eyes and saw that others had noticed it as well and were packing up to leave.
Seemed everyone was getting ready to leave so I guessed it was going to storm.
One look at the sky told me I was right.
It didn’t look too bad but definitely not beach weather.
I started packing up my things too when I noticed someone out in the water.
Whoever it was, they were having a hard time trying to get back to the shore.
Apparently they were out on the sandbar when the weather turned bad.
I knew there was no way they were going to make it because of the undercurrent.
I could swim pretty well but even I could not make that.
I watched for a few moments to see if whoever it was made any headway.
Right then I figured out it was a female.
She turned on her back and was floating.
Not a good sign.
It meant she was probably worn out from swimming against the current and was about to be carried out either side of the sandbar and out to the ocean because of the undercurrent.
I took off into the water knowing I would have to take her back to the sandbar and wait till the tide changed before coming back in.
I hoped it wouldn’t start storming and lightning but I knew the sandbar was the safest place with all things considered.
The water was starting to get choppy and that made it a strenuous swim to get out to her.
Luckily whoever she was she was at least smart enough to float to her back when she got worn out.
As I started getting closer she began to look a little familiar.
Oh Eīshān! It was Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī.
She hated my guts.
Her brother, Nādirshāh Durrānī, always lost to me his every Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife.
I fucked every one of them.
Nādirshāh Durrānī divorced them as soon as he learned it.
Nonetheless, hating someone is one thing, being in the ocean and about to be swept out to sea was entirely another.
I swam up along side of her and I saw that she was breathing very heavily and was shaking.
I guess she heard me because she kind of lowered more of her body into the water just as I reached her.
She really looked like she was having a hard time staying afloat.
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, are you ok?” I asked.
“Go away Durgesh, I am just fine! You always help us Musalmān damsels in distress so that you can fuck our Īmān. I don’t want to lose my Īmān to your damn legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund. Let me alone, please. You have already fucked my every Bhābhījān making hell my brother’s life. I hate you.” she scorned.
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, you are about to be swept out to the ocean, we need to go to the sandbar and wait till the tide starts coming back in.” I said.
She didn’t say or do anything.
She just floated there breathing.
I guess somehow she knew I was right but didn’t want to relent or ask for my help.
I didn’t know how she would take to me pulling her back to the sandbar.
Nevertheless, I moved behind her, put my arm around her and started making my way to the sandbar.
As I suspected, Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī started fighting me and kicking her feet wildly.
She was yelling something that I couldn’t make out with the water flooding over my ears but it didn’t matter.
I had encountered Musalmān Beauties like her before.
Now all of them were fucking me themselves without even a single exception.
My honest love for them had always won.
I approached from behind so that the wild kicks and flailing arms don’t accidentally get me.
Her kicks actually helped me tread water but her hands and nails digging at my arm didn’t feel too good.
It was a fairly tiring swim though because the water was pretty choppy and the undercurrent was pulling us toward either side of the sandbar.
I managed to get us to the sand bar though.
As soon as her feet touched sand Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī really started pulling away.
Since the water wasn’t in my ears anymore I could finally hear what she was screaming.
“I don’t have any bottoms on!” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī screamed.
“I’m sorry, but I had to get you out of the undercurrent. Don’t you understand that you were about to be swept out to sea? I exclaimed.
She didn’t say anything.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī just sat there with her legs under her butt in the edge of the water trying to hide her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān face.
I guess she was embarrassed.
Eīshān, she’s gonna start crying.
Great, now what do I do.
The last thing I needed her to do is get irrational right now and try to swim it again.
I moved to the edge of the water a few feet away from her and said,
“Here, you can have my trunks”. I shucked them off and extended them to her while turning the other way.
I had made sure I was in the water enough that I wouldn’t be flashing her.
I heard her move and finally take them from me.
A few moments later I asked if she had them on and Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī replied a pouting “Yes”.
I turned and looked briefly.
They were ridiculously loose on her.
Yet they did the job.
I didn’t push myself though and looked away.
We sat there quietly not saying a word.
I could feel the tension in the air though.
I didn’t know how much of it was her seething that I was the one that saved her from what she had to know was in a dire situation or the embarrassment of not having any bottoms on.
‘Wait a minute. Why didn’t she have any bottoms on?’ I thought to myself. Oh well, I am not going to ask.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī was tall.
Six foot tall.
That was the most remarkable thing about her.
I am not short myself and am in pretty good shape but still, 6′ is tall for a chic.
Sure she was a blonde and had a very good figure but what I had always remembered about her was that she was tall.
I guess that was because she lacked depth in personality.
She was nice and all but she tended to be on the fickle side.
I had already fucked a lot of her friends too, as well as her Bhābhījāns.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī hated me for it more.
“Actually she is jealous of all of us.” One of her Bhābhījāns told me once when I was fucking her.
We both were enjoying it very much.
“You mean Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī also wants me to fuck her?” I smiled.
“Isn’t she extremely beautiful?” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, her Bhābhījān, smiled at me cunningly.*
I winked at her fucking her.
“You are right.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, her Bhābhījān, wrapped her legs around my waist.
My Uncut Hindu Penis entered into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt deeper.
I kissed Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ.
She contracted her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Shaft.
“Nādirshāh Durrānī never reached this deep. Thank you.”
I fucked her more vigorously.
“Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, I love you. You never need to flatter me to have my Uncut Hindu Penis into your ever enticing Musalmān Cunt.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ looked at me cunningly.
“All of us Musalmān Beauties have Musalmān Cunts to entice your Uncut Hindu Lund to penetrate us. What’s special in my Musalmān Cunt?”
“Nothing that I know of until now. Yet, my sixty four years age experiences with you Musalmān Beauties have taught me, every cunt has its own individuality. Its own specialty consequentially.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered.”
“I’m not flattering you, idiot. I mean it.”
“Really?”
“Why the hell you don’t believe me?”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ had her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes suddenly filled with tears.
“We Musalmān Beauties are always deceived, Durgesh.”
I kissed her eyes.
“Never cry when you have me inside you. It means I’m not fucking you optimum.”
“Nonsense,” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed with tearful eyes, “you are the first who is fucking me as I myself want to be fucked.”
“Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, my Hindu love.”
“Nādirshāh Durrānī is smaller?”
“Smallest.”
“What?”
“Ask his other Musalmān wives when you fuck them.”
“Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, most of you Musalmān wives claim your Musalmān husbands are not competent. But in so many cases I’ve found they were only flattering me. Nafīsah Salmān claimed Imām Muħammad Ħasan was impotent. Now I know Imām Muħammad Ħasan is not impotent.”
“Now? Why? Didn’t you see his now utmost successful daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan? How did Nafīsah Salmān have Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan if Imām Muħammad Ħasan was impotent? Didn’t you argue with Nafīsah Salmān?”*
I smiled ingeniously.
“Why should have I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nafīsah Salmān was one of the most extremely beautiful Musalmān Beauties I’d enjoyed until then. I was fucking her to my heart’s content and she was flattering me still then. Why should have I antagonized her? I never do it. I’m not foolish enough to antagonize my women when I fuck them.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed melodically.
I felt as if I was hearing azān instead.
My Uncut Hindu Penis strengthened more inside her tight Musalmān Cunt.
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ kissed me gratefully immensely indebted.
“Did any Musalmān Beauty tell you ever, you have one more unique sexual prowess other men haven’t?”
“What?” I smiled astutely.
“The more you fuck us, the more your communal lust to fuck us Musalmān Beauties increases tending to infinity as if. The other men are being satisfied, lose it instead.”
“I haven’t any communal lust.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed.
“Then what the hell we Musalmān Beauties enjoy more inside us with you than with our own Musalmān husbands?”
“You think it’s my communal Hindu lust for you Musalmān Beauties?”
“If not, what the hell is it?” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed good naturedly, “You haven’t to be ashamed of it. We don’t feel insulted, rather we feel proud of it that your own Beauties can’t satisfy you optimum, yet we Musalmān Beauties do.”
I smiled.
“Even you Musalmān Beauties can’t satisfy me optimum, Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ. I’m an incurable hyper sexual. You yourself admit the more I fuck you, the more my ‘communal lust’(?) to fuck you Musalmān Beauties is increased. Don’t you admit yourself it?”
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes widened.*
Why did Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī hate me?
Not only because I fucked all of the Musalmān Beauties her brother Nādirshāh Durrānī married.
There was one reason more.
Her sister, who was 2 years older than her at 21 used to work at the same beach hut that ran the life guard station that I worked at.
I caught her stealing some of the bathing suits that the hut sold and turned her in for it and Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī got plenty pissed off at me for it.
What she didn’t know was that I was the reason she didn’t get arrested over the issue.
I literally bargained with the authorities not to.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī never gave me the chance to tell her that and quite frankly I didn’t really care to.
I did the right thing and shouldn’t have to explain myself for doing so.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī’s problem was that she didn’t see her sister for what she was.
She was not only a thief, she helped her brother, Nādirshāh Durrānī, in smuggling too, even in kidnapping, smuggling, blackmailing and selling Musalmān Beauties to capable and powerful Hindus especially.
They used to purchase them in their auctions, paying even the highest price the others offered ever.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī’s sister was a pothead.
She probably stole the stuff to sell for drugs.
I knew it was only a matter of time before she did something stupid.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī refused to see that.
“They came off when I was trying to swim back to the shore.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I asked.
“My bathing suit bottoms. They came off when I was trying to swim back to the shore.” She explained.
“Oh.” I smiled reassuringly, not wanting to seem as if I was using this to engage in a conversation with her.
I guess Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī just didn’t want me to think she was nude bathing out here.
Was she a nudist?
Well, what if she is?
Who the hell am I to decide for her what she should do and what not?
My own Practical Chief Wife now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was herself an incurable nudist, feminist and exhibitionist.
Wasn’t she?
She was so proud of her magnanimous, excellent, exquisite, Saåūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān female body that she loved to fuck me in public, on stage even.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was never ashamed of it.
The more one criticized her for it, the more nudist, Feminist and exhibitionist Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had become.
How the hell could I criticize Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī for the same?
I did notice though that Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had not thanked me for my trunks.
Oh well.
“Why did you bring me back to the sandbar instead of the shore?” she asked.
“We wouldn’t have made it to the shore. With the tide going out the undercurrent was trying to pull us out to sea. With the water being choppy it made it even harder to swim. Our best bet was to come back to the sandbar and wait till the tide starts going back in.” I responded.
“Is it going to storm?” She asked with a hint of fear in her voice.
“It looks like it is going to rain but I don’t think it will be bad.” I answered.
It then occurred to me that I had not driven here and was going to have to call someone to take me home.
How the hell was I going to face someone with no trunks?
Should I call Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Well, why not?
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, did you drive here?” I asked.
“No, I took the bus, why?” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said.
“Umm, I took the bus too and I have no trunks now.” I said with kind of a defeated look on my face.
“Oh, umm, well, hmmm.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī stammered.
We both sat there quietly thinking to ourselves.
Of all the people each of us to get stuck in a situation like this with it had to be her and I.
I didn’t particularly care for her and she certainly hated my guts.
It was Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī that spoke first.
“Durgesh, I don’t really like this situation. I don’t like wearing your trunks but I don’t have much choice in the matter. I know you don’t really like me wearing your trunks but I appreciate your being a gentleman about it and giving them to me. I have a wrap on the beach and once we get there I can give your trunks back to you, but I am scared to go on the public bus with just a wrap on for bottoms. You know how those perverts get on the busses, it gets crowded and they get touchy feely. This is hard for me to ask but can you please forget our differences for a bit and see me home?” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said eloquently.
I was in shock.
But it was a pleasant shock, nevertheless.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī was always smart in school but she never had any worldliness about her.
She never had depth of emotion and quite frankly I figured her for the type to just leave when we got to the shore with my trunks.
“Umm, yeah, sure.” I smiled.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī then asked,
“How much longer till the tide starts coming in?”
“About an hour and a half.” I smiled again.
“Well, I am going to relax till then.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said.
With that she leaned back while still keeping her legs bent.
I guess Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī resigned herself to have to be civil with me at least until this was over.
I was still taken back by how prolifically Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī spoke earlier.
She completely conveyed what she was thinking and how she felt.
Hell, she even showed empathy for my feelings.
I sat there thinking and looking around just trying to pass the time till the tide started coming back in.
I noticed something out of the corner of my eyes.
I looked over at her and Eīshān! I could see clear up my trunks to her extremely stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
The trunks were really loose on her and they weren’t very long anyway.
I couldn’t believe it.
I tried looking away and ignoring it but it was like one of those stains one finds on someone’s shirt.
You know, when you are standing there talking to someone and they have a stain on their shirt and you can’t help but look at it.
I didn’t want to sit there and stare at it because if I did and got a hard-on she would definitely notice it as Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had my trunks.
I had to do something.
I didn’t want to show her I wanted to fuck her now.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī could tease me and torture me sexually.
I never wanted her to win over me.
Why should I?
I decided to just roam around in the water a little bit.
The cool water should help me keep my member under control.
I did see enough though to know that Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had shaved her mound completely.*
Chapter 2
———————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 51
Posted: April 25, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Abu Bakr, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Amīnah Zahīr, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Kħadeejah Muħammad, Kħilāfat Movement, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim Terrorism, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Seven Movements, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Threesome Society, Triple Society Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 51
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Sun sparkled from the crested tops of restless waves.
I paced the deck, enjoying fresh air and the mild sunlight through clouds.
My hands were thrust deep in the pockets of a double breasted coat.
My rubber soled shoes trod lightly along the teakwood deck.
The cold breeze tried to ruffle my ever black hair unsuccessfully.
The heavy door from the forward social hall was pushed open one inch or two.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan shouldered it open.
She stood there with wind whipped skirts.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stepped across the high threshold.
Both of them released the door.
The wind pushed it against the automatic door check.
I walked behind both of them.
“Ship Ahoy!” I called.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, both turned to me.
“The other side is less windy.” I smiled at both of them.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded.
The cold wind was blowing the tendrils of hair across her extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān face.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan introduced us, “this is Durgesh, my husband, and the Hindu husband of us entire extremely striking Musalmān Beauties, if you don’t mind my bluntness.”
“Naåīmah,” I admonished Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat curtly, “behave yourself, you stupid.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled at me.
“It’s alright. I never mind. Most of us extremely attractive Musalmān Beauties, rather, never mind your titles related to us, actually. We think they are in fact compliments to us Musalmān Beauties instead.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“Now, come on. You Hindu scoundrel, the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, we both are starving to death.”
I laughed,
“Let’s go, my extremely stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wives.”
With an extremely attractive Musalmān Beauty on each of my Hindu male arm, I started forward along the deck.
They were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis impishly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had unzipped me and had brought it out.
With every female treatment of both the extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauties my Uncut Hindu Penis was extending and growing in their fists violently.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was playing with it rather shyly somewhat, but Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not ashamed of it even a bit.
Rounding the bow, the wind pushed us down the sloping incline, into the lee of the deck.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim put her hair back into place, laughed, and said,
“That’s what’s known as wind blown job. I’ve been hearing a lot about you, Durgesh.”
“I’m glad.”
“Most of my extremely beautiful Musalmān women friends are already enjoying your Hindu sex kicks.”
“I’m honored.”
“They say you’re unique in love and lovemaking both.”
“Tell them my numerous thanks.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim faced me with laughing, dark eyes, full red lips, parted to reveal teeth that glinted as whitecaps in the sun.
The silk blouse, open at the neck, disclosed the sweep of her tremendously lovely Musalmān throat, the rounded curve of her firm breasts.
“Durgesh darling, I saw you and my Ammī fucking and talking last night. I bet Ammī told you all about the family mystery.”*
I looked at Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Mystery?”
“Sure. Don’t try to act innocent.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan flashed me a quick glance,
“What’s the family mystery, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?”
“The disappearance of my portrait. Ammī packed my autographed picture in Abbū’s bag. She locked the bag carefully. When they unpacked, my picture was gone from the frame. Someone had inserted one of Zāherah Ħusayn instead, the Pakistani Musalmān heroine that worked in Indian movies too. I resemble her to the extent as if we both are twin sisters. Now, what do you know about that?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan glanced reproachfully at me.
“I know nothing about it. What does your Ammī think about it? If she has talked with Durgesh about it, we can…”
“That’s the point. Ammī is making it darkly mysterious. Well, don’t deprive her of her thrill. If Ammī tells you about it, act as if you didn’t know anything before Ammī told you it.”
“You are sure Durgesh and your Ammī were fucking when they were talking?”
“I watched them myself.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said curtly, “My Ammī was on her knees and our Durgesh darling was fucking her from her glorious behind. You say Durgesh is thirty four, why the hell then he is interested in my Ammī more than me?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me furiously.
“He loves big heavy female Musalmān buttocks filling his nude Hindu male lap when he fucks us, damn it.”
“She does not take it seriously.” I smiled.
“Me?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis more, to make me suffer from pain somewhat.
She raised her chin and laughed into my face.
“My parents think I never take anything seriously—life, liberty, or the pursuit of love. I’m the flippant younger generation. Hell, they never suspect it’s my act only. I’m immensely serious about everything.”
“And how about your Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim? How does he take it?”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis significantly.
Despite her tremendous efforts to act as if my Uncut Hindu Penis was not the first she was playing with, her inherent shyness and enormously hidden nervousness were constantly telling me I was the ever first man in her life she was enjoying even the foreplay with.
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan disapprovingly.
Why the hell Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t understand?
Her Seven Movements had upset the normal life of almost everyone, almost entire humankind.
“Oh, Abbū takes it right in his stride.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said, “He is a Thinker, carries the Multiverse on his shoulders. Despite the fact that you are the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, Abbū thinks you are Imām Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām .”
“Nonsense!”
“Well,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said innocently, “I think…”
“You don’t think, you never think.” I said coldly, “You just fix a target and conspire to achieve it.”
“My dear ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly, “it takes a deep thinking even to conspire.”
“Shame on you.”
“Let it be. I damn care.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me, entirely unashamed of herself, “You mankind think every shame is for us womankind only. I refuse to obey your ever selfish decisions. Why the hell should we womankind obey you mankind? After all we womankind are infinitely more in numbers than you mankind are. In Democracy…”
“Oh shut up,” I said, “I’m fed up of your communal philosophies. You think every Musalmān male is a terrorist or a potential terrorist at least. But the Musalmān Beauties are neither. Every Hindu male is a born democrat, and…”
“Prove me wrong.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan challenged me.*
I smiled curtly.
“As if I haven’t already every now and then.”
“Never.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said shamelessly, “You have only argued every time.”
I squeezed her buttocks.
“Sālī, ‘Ūnŧh ré ūnŧh, térī kaun sī kal sīdhī’?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan pushed my Uncut Hindu Prick into Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s heretofore virgin mouth.
I felt embarrassed.
But to my surprise, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim kissed it lovingly, licked it and then started to suck it ravenously.
“I’ll be damned.” I murmured to myself.
“Enjoying it?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Samīnah Al Qāsim impishly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim nodded, brought my Uncut Hindu Prick out of her mouth and said.
“My Ammī was not the first I saw Durgesh fucking.”
“Allah Allah! I never thought you were so veteran a voyeur.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“A virgin is a voyeur mostly.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her step Ammī cunningly.
“Ammījān, I think you are right. I was also a veteran voyeur until I seduced Durgesh.”
Both of them laughed.
“You were telling me about your Abbū.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled.
“Only occasionally can I get Abbū to set it down long enough to play with me.”
I squeezed her breasts.
“Sālī, that doesn’t answer my question.”
“You can’t call me Sālī, your sister in law. I’m your Ammī in law, your mother in law instead. Don’t forget Imām Muħammad Ħasan is still my husband.”
“Ex-husband.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
She laughed.
I watched her dubiously.
Was she still married to Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is guiding and patronizing her?
But how the hell could it be?
Imām Muħammad Ħasan still has four duly legal Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives.
Yes, he doesn’t touch them anymore.
I fuck all of them instead.
But they are still his wives legally.
Is Al Samīnah Al Qāsim playing some deep game with Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
If Al Samīnah Al Qāsim hasn’t divorced Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is his fifth legal duly married wife.
Does Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan know it?
Has she planned deliberately to exile Imām Muħammad Ħasan from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat to protect him from Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?
I was more vigilant now of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim both.*
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr smiled patronizingly.
“Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was a commando. Wasn’t he?”
“What the hell do you mean?” Muħammad bin Qāsim grimaced, “Commandos can’t be murdered?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled sophisticatedly, yet patronizingly at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“I suppose,” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “all this is just a conversational background, a barrage, a bombardment, of words. They are trying to get us to commit ourselves. Umm-al-Åālmīn, I’m quite certain either Umm-al-Åālmīn Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is playing some deeper game, or Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Umm-al-Åālmīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself has planned it. Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was her commando. It wasn’t easy to murder him.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled again.
“I’m not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Yet you are Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā herself reincarnated. Aren’t you?”
“Sure,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “nevertheless, not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“Her worst critics claim Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is following her Hindu Live in relationship partner’s every step. What Durgesh Jījū has done Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī would also do action by action. You can’t win her, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was now on her knees.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was visiting her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt now.
“Once a barrister always a barrister. Are you cross examining me now, my Hindu Love?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling watching my still growing Uncut Hindu Cock penetrating the glorious glamorous Musalmān Cunt of Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
Despite my constant efforts to avoid them, Jet Musalmān Beauties were still constantly succeeding in winning my Uncut Hindu Penis for their ever aggressive ever feminist Musalmān Cunts.
It was necessary.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was vowed to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
It was the only solution to stop the kidnapping, smuggling and selling of Musalmān Beauties.
Only Hindu husbands/Live in relationship Partners could be trusted.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both wanted to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Yet, none of them could have the courage enough to say it openly.
Not only Musalmīn, even Durgesh was against it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used it to win Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both despite my opposition.
She made it a movement.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis out of her glorious Musalmān Cunt until only its head remained inside, “what does your father, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, say about it? What are your own theories incidentally?”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim shook her head.
She waited a few minutes for me to push my Uncut Hindu Cock back into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt, but when she saw I was concentrating somewhere else instead of on fucking her optimum, she felt her extraordinary Musalmān beauty insulted.
“Hey, where the hell are you concentrating? Give me that back.”
“What?”
“Your legendary Uncut Hindu Lund. Push it back into me. Will you?”
“Oh, sorry.”
“You must be. I would never forgive you if you ever do it again. Once out, I want it into me back, immediately. Do you understand?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Does he do it with you too?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and answered my question as well, “I don’t have theories. I’m too young. Moreover, I’m a practical woman rather. I never dream of anything. I march ahead instead, and get it practically, as I’m going to do now.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim pushed her own gorgeous glorious Saåūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap and swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt deepest, “I love it deepest, my dear.”
“Abbū Imām liked your aggressive sex?” I smiled fucking her somewhat more vigorously now.
“Never. He is too a damn fool Musalmān.”
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim Ammī.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan protested disapprovingly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, my dear immensely successful daughter. I’m with you, because you are running your Seven Movements, you have vowed taking Al Qur’an Al Karim in your pious hand to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. That’s what these damn fool Musalmīn need. Replace them with Hindus for ever and forget the bastards.”
“You ever communal bitches,” I said curtly, “always thinking with your ever ravenous Musalmān Cunts instead of with your brains.”
“No Musalmān bastard is here to appreciate you.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim too smiled curtly, “I know you adopt this attitude to please your Musalmān fathers in law and your Musalmān brothers in law. They don’t have any power now. They are cuckolded to you and us, their Musalmān houseladies.”
“You are helping their enemies. Have you ever thought of it?”
“Qāzī jī dublé kyon? Shahar kā andéshah. Why the hell you always think of others, instead of yourself and us? Enjoy our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān bodies, you stupid.”*
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“You have a telephone over there in the corner. Just ring the Ved Nagar police and ask them if a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered at an early hour this morning.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr promptly crossed over to the telephone, smiled sharply and said,
“That’s a very nice bluff you’re running. We won’t let it work however. I’m going to call you cold right now. Whenever someone makes a pass at me I call him/her then and there ineludibly.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr picked up the receiver.
“I want the police station, please,”
Then, after a moment, he said,
“Can you kindly tell me whether a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered this morning somewhere near Oceanside, Ved Nagar?… Never mind who this is. I’m simply asking a question…Well, let’s put it this way. I might be a witness in case there’s anything to it…”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr held the receiver in silence for several seconds.
Amīnah Zahīr was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Prick into her teen Musalmān Cunt in the meantime, smiling smartly.
She was herself fucking me now.
I stood still there on my knees behind Amīnah Zahīr.
Entirely nude Amīnah Zahīr was herself making the back forth and again back movements ruthlessly.
When it came out to sex, Amīnah Zahīr was almost an female animal with me.
It was rare I fucked her.
Mostly Amīnah Zahīr fucked me herself.
And that even almost most savagely usually.
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr suddenly said in the mouthpiece,
“Thank you.”
Then he slammed the receiver back into place.
He turned and faced his audience.
Then he started pacing the floor.
His eyes were half slit in thoughts.
He pushed his hands down deep in the side pockets of his double breasted coat.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim were watching him patiently, yet with a smirk.
Abruptly, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr turned, standing with his back to the wall.
“All right,” he said, “I’m security in charge here. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is not a nobody. She virtually owns our Kħilāfat Movement. She is one of the most important sponsors to our cause.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled contemptuously.
“Oh sure, I happen to know all of your bloody movement. What’s it? You are fighting for establishing a Triple Society, a Threesome Society actually. Musalmān wife, Hindu lover and thoroughly Cuckold Musalmān husband. Shame on you. You call it a Kħilāfat Movement? I’m surprised. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is one of your most important sponsors, not because she and the other similar sponsors are sympathetic to you. They want you cuckolded. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is running Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Movement. Your Triple Society is helping her cause. Jījū is against it because Jījū is against the humiliation of any human being whosoever the hell s/he is. Why the hell don’t you understand? Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is revenging what you Pseudo Musalmīn have done with Musalmān womankind. That’s why her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, is against her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah despite his exile from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr raised his right hand.
“I know you want to argue against our Kħilāfat Movement and even Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah as well. Imām Muħammad Ħasan has invited us to a Grand Meeting on the ‘Yacht’ of your Jījū. We have accepted the invitation. It’s not the proper place to discuss these utmost important political crises.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at me helplessly.
I smiled.
“Your Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is destroying the Musalmīn completely, either under this disguise or that. She is taking advantage of each and every superstition of Pseudo Musalmīn. I’d told you, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, already.”*
Chapter 52
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Mahābhārat Today
Posted: April 18, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentMahābhārat Today
Index
4. Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
———————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 8
Posted: April 8, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Padminī Bhārgav, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Ramā Bhārgav, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Sītā Bhārgav, Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī Leave a commentGotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
Chapter 8
As she neared me, a nasty little thought ran through her mind.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could give me the one thing for Shrāvañ Parv that I surely wanted most in the Multiverse.
Not long after having that thought, she smiled triumphantly.
Much to her surprise the idea returned to her the next day.
She kept pushing it aside as silly and unreasonable yet it kept coming back.
As if she would learn something, she didn’t already know she went into my room on one of my last days before Shrāvañ Parv break and turned on my computer.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav surfed through the images and felt a new and intense excitement.
For the first time she felt the desire to play with herself as she looked at my porno collection.
It was almost entire ashvinātam.
So, Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs were still even more than less in my life.
Only because they are more educated, more sophisticated and more accomplished?
The Musalmān Beauties were winning because they were losers and the Brāhmañ Beauties were losing because they were competent.
Yes, the Musalmān Beauties needed protection.
Yes, most of the Musalmīn were terrorists, criminals/criminal minded, because they were Uneducated/Under Educated.
Consequently, it was more than necessary to protect Musalmān Beauties not to opt for them.
There should be an open option for Musalmān Beauties to reject Pseudo Musalmīn and opt for Durgesh/Hindus.
Yet, why the Brāhmañ Beauties should suffer for it?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is right.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
She began to softly caress her tits before reaching down inside her pants to explore her pussy.
After a brief while, she removed her pants and sat on my desk chair with her legs spread widely apart as she fingered her pussy.
She quickly grew excited and played with her wet clit and pussy.
For a moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav closed her eyes and imagined me sitting in this same position stroking my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
Bachhalyā Lund!
Not, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh unduly criticizes Bachhalyās.
Only due to the Bachhalyās always opted for Brāhmañ Beauties instead of Musalmān Beauties.
Why the hell should not they?
Didn’t Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī conceive Bachhalyās initially as the husbands for the Brāhmañ Beauties and Brāhmañ Beauties only?
Didn’t she fight even with her Bachhalyā husband to keep Bachhalyās exclusively for Brāhmañ Beauties?
Didn’t she manage ultimately with her constant holy wars to get the famous declaration from the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI that Brāhmañ Beauties were only for Bachhalyās, not for Brāhmañs too?
Who the hell then Durgesh is attempting to change the famous historical verdict of the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Even Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is not right to suggest that the Savarñ Beauties have equal right on the Bachhalyās as the Brāhmañ Beauties do.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!!
Long live Padminī Bhārgav.
The Brāhmañ Beauties must be awarded.
Don’t preach them sacrifice only.
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!!*
Clearly Durgesh must do it, otherwise why would he have the pictures on the computer?
In her mind my Bachhalyā Lund was long and hard and I slowly stroked it while staring at the same image Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently had on the screen.
That vision alone was enough to catapult Dr. Sītā Bhārgav into a frantic sexual ecstasy.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav controlled herself very hard.
She did not want to fall to the level of unsophisticated women who instead of controlling themselves for the practical action, resorted to masturbation.
Initially she felt very odd about what had happened, almost as if she had crossed a taboo line with her thoughts.
Caste taboo was quadrupled here with the utmost arrogant Brāhmañ sacrosanctity.
The Bachhalyās were considered Shūdrs, dalits, the downtrodden nowadays.
Nevertheless most of the Brāhmañ Beauties never surrendered to the traditional Brāhmañ conspiracy.
Most of the anti Brāhmañs had always served the Bachhalyās in spreading celibacy among traditional Brāhmañs.
The Bachhalyās found Brāhmañ Beauties, consequently easily available to them.
Brāhmañs and Rājpūts were serving humanity uplifting Musalmān Beauties while Bachhalyās were serving Brāhmañ Beauties and Rājpūt Beauties even.
Surprisingly quickly, however, those feelings were replaced again by a certain curiosity and thrill of giving me the ultimate present.
Despite feeling a little weird about it Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to regularly watch the images she found on my computer.
Whenever Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could for the next couple of days, she went back into my room and turned on the computer.
It wasn’t the images themselves that appealed to her.
In fact, she had been looking at the pictures less and less and been thinking more and more about the idea of me stroking my Bachhalyā Lund as I sat in the same chair where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently was.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to make excuses for her wild gift idea in her mind.
She reasoned that since I was utmost rich and an entirely unashamed ever-best fucker she would be the perfect person to have me.
It was clear that I was the one person she felt totally comfortable with.
She realized that she felt relieved.
The Bachhalyās had improved more in my leadership recently.
Now, the Brāhmañ Beauties, Rājpūt Beauties and the other Savarñ Beauties were again openly fighting with each other to have a Bachhalyā husband/live in relationship partner/lover.
The Musalmān Beauties always ignited the fire between them to keep them away from their respective Savarñ husbands who were serving the Musalmān Beauties sexually and/or socially.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to look at it as doing me a favor, giving me the ultimate gift that any woman could give a man.
Why should it matter that there were “rules” that said they shouldn’t?
It was clear to her that I was a good man.
I was the utmost successful man almost in every field I was interested.
Moreover even at my sixty-four I still had desire to get out, meet new people and date women.
Perhaps by doing this Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could ignite a fire in me for her and let me see how wonderful it can be to be with her.
For a couple of days she repeated these ideas over and over in her mind until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started to believe them.
Still, even as noon on Shrāvañ Parv Eve approached, a tiny voice told her she was crazy.
The traditional Brāhmañs would be against her immensely as they were against most of the Brāhmañ Beauties who were already my live in relationship partners/beloveds, my women friends having sex with me.
Doing something she had never done before, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav got in the car and joined the throng of last minute gift shoppers at the local mall.
She went thinking that she would just walk around until she found the perfect gift for me and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could stop having her silly thoughts.
After a couple of hours of searching through stores and fighting crowds, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was still empty handed.
It literally seemed that, I already had every material thing that an utmost rich man could have or want.
She wandered around thinking about this when her mind hit on the idea of material gifts.
Maybe she was looking in the wrong direction, she thought, maybe the key wasn’t material but something else.
She let this thought linger and actually asked herself what thing or experience must I want more than anything else, but as soon as her mind formed the thought she immediately knew the answer.
The answer came first not from her mind but from deep inside her.
She felt her stomach knot slightly and perhaps even a brief tingling in her pussy before her mind answered her own question with a single word, “Sex.”
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued walking around the mall for a while longer still trying to figure out what to do even though, deep down, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suspected that she had already made up her mind.
When she did finally stop in front of a store where she knew she’d find the perfect thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled to herself.
It certainly wasn’t the store she’d been expecting.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside, the lady by the door said,
“Hi, welcome to Victoria’s Secret.”
“Geez, Sītā Bhārgav, I thought you got lost,” I teased when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside the house. “I would have thought you’d have known better than to go out on Shrāvañ Parv Eve.”
She laughed and said Dr. Sītā Bhārgav certainly had learned her lesson.
As she walked past the couch, where I was sitting Dr. Sītā Bhārgav commented that she’d picked up some food for dinner and quickly went into the kitchen.
Before I could follow her Dr. Sītā Bhārgav dropped the food on the counter and quickly shoved the other, smaller bag into one of the cabinets where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would come back to get it later.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started putting away some of the other groceries she had purchased while at the store.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t know how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to make her gift work, but she thought it might be nice to have the supplies for a nice meal to either set the mood or bask in the afterglow when they were done.
After putting away the groceries together Dr. Sītā Bhārgav and I sat down to eat dinner.
All through dinner, I tried to get her to reveal what she had bought me for Shrāvañ Parv.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would only say that it was something she knew I wanted but wouldn’t say anything else.
After I left Dr. Sītā Bhārgav retrieved her little bag from the kitchen cabinet and stashed it in her room.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tried to read but her mind was too busy racing with thoughts and uncertain emotions.
Instead, she picked up the remote and stayed in bed flipping TV channels randomly until she finally drifted off to sleep.
Even as Shrāvañ Parv Day dawned, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t quite know how to play out the day.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav showered, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suddenly got cold feet and started having second thoughts.
She frantically tried to think of something, anything else Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could do, but repeatedly a little voice told her she already knew what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going, and wanted, to do.
Immediately after her shower, she heard me rustling around and called down the hall that she needed more time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav told me to eat breakfast and that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav came down we would exchange our gifts.
Usually, we got right up and opened our gifts in our pajamas even before eating just as we had done previously.
Today, however, she knew she needed some time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav went back into the bathroom and took her time as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully applied her makeup and fixed her hair.
Usually she only took this much time when she had a special outing and wanted to impress people, but she had decided that she needed to look her best to make this gift perfect.
She applied fresh polish to her nails and as they dried Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully considered how to compliment her outfit.
She pulled a pair of black, strapless shoes with tall, spiked heels out of the closet and knew they would be perfect.
She found her long strand of pearls and put them around her neck.
She loved the length of this necklace as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could wrap it firmly around her neck with one loop and then leave the second loop hanging down her chest.
While the first loop gave the sexy look of a choker style necklace the second one hung down perfectly so the bottom few pearls nestled nicely into her healthy cleavage.
With her free time and lack of working for nearly the past 20 years Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had taken to working out regularly to keep herself fit.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav swam laps daily in their pool.
That was one of the great things about where she lived since the weather was warm enough to swim virtually all year around.
The result of all her swimming and her ability to focus on fashion and her appearance was that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked and felt fitter than she ever had been before.
Even when she had married her Brāhmañ husband, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t as fit as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now.
Knowing that made her feel sexier than she ever had before and she found it slightly ironic that she felt sexier and more desirable as she got older.
After putting on pearl earrings to compliment the necklace she pulled the items from her small bag, and considered how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav should dress.
She had purchased a few different outfits hoping one would match her mood today.
Looking them over, she reached down and picked up the silk robe.
She already owned several silk robes similar to this one because she loved the way the smooth fabric felt on her skin, but for this occasion, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted something new, something she’d never had on before.
The robe was black and felt very sexy and sleek as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slipped it on over her naked body.
It was a full-length robe and only stopped down around her ankles.
By itself, it wasn’t very revealing but she knew that the thin material would cling to her temptingly as she moved around.
For the final touch, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tied the knot in the band around her waist just a little more loosely than usual allowing more of her chest and some cleavage to be exposed.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took one long last look at herself in the mirror before she left.
She reapplied some lipstick in a deep red color that perfectly matched the color of the polish on her nails.
She analyzed her hair and decided it was fine.
Her jet-black hair was pulled up into a teasing tangle of twirls and twists behind her head.
It was the kind of hairdo that looked very thrown together and sassy, but she knew that it took a long time to achieve the right look.
Lastly she readjusted the longer loop of pearls to make sure they were resting just so between her tits.
The contrast between the black robe and the bright white pearls on her chest was very striking and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled knowing it would be sure to draw my eye.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly to her reflection thinking she had achieved the look Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway before turning toward the living room.
A tiny part of her mind screamed for her to stop and get out of these clothes but that part was outmatched by a deeper, more primal voice that anxiously awaited what was about to happen.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began walking down the hallway knowing that whatever happened things would probably never be quite the same between her and Durgesh.
She felt herself growing excited as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked from the sleek, sexy fabric flowing past her bare skin.
Her tall heels clicked on the hard wood of the stairs and as she entered the living room.
Ordinarily Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wouldn’t wear shoes to open the presents.
The clicking of her heels made me look up from my magazine when she entered the room.
The look on my face was exactly what she had been hoping for.
My jaw dropped open and I looked at her in surprise for several seconds.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stood still and felt my eyes moving over her.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav watched them move down to her feet and then slowly move back up to her face.
As she had hoped, she noticed that they lingered near her tits, as I seemed to be drawn to the sight of the pearls tickling her cleavage.
My eyes moved ever so slightly without rising from her tits and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav became immediately aware that her nipples had started to grow hard under the slippery silk.
Undoubtedly, it had started simply from the exquisite friction of the fabric on her nipples as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked and her nervousness, but seeing my eyes exploring her and knowing what might happen next certainly helped them tighten up.
They weren’t yet fully hard but they were definitely stiff enough to be seen through her robe.
For a Moment, she felt embarrassed but then realized that this was nothing, compared to what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to do.
“Do you like it?” she asked in a soft, playful voice.
“Wow! Sītā Bhārgav, you look fantastic! I mean, you look better than most of the girls at university,” I answered with surprising honesty.
Hearing my words only stoked her already growing arousal and she knew it was time to act.
“Thanks,” she replied as she glided across the room smoothly on her high heels.
She noticed that I watched her move very carefully.
I didn’t particularly stare at any part of her but rather seemed to take in the whole of her movements.
She knew that the tall heels were causing her hips to sway more than normal and she accentuated that as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked.
I was sitting on her big couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav moved between the couch and the oversized coffee table, until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was standing right next to me.
I was looking up at her with a mixture of emotions in my eyes and on my face.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could easily see the curiosity but was also excited to notice that perhaps there was something else there too.
A certain something about the glimmer in my eye denoted excitement and interest.
Instead of sitting on the couch next to me, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly sat down on the edge of the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was facing me.
After sitting, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly crossed her legs, in something Dr. Sītā Bhārgav couldn’t have planned any better, her robe parted, and slipped open revealing her legs all the way up to just over her knees.
For a split second, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav saw my eyes flash to her bare legs and she felt her nipples grow ever tighter.
I was wearing my usual outfit before I got dressed which was a pair of loose sweats and an old T-shirt.
For a brief Moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wondered what was going on under my sweats.
This was the Moment she had been most troubled with.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, clearly, now had my attention and possibly even had me aroused, but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav didn’t know how to take the next step.
Perhaps it was partly from her own increased desire but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav decided to scrap the speech she had planned and simply go for the very direct approach.
She reached out a hand and placed it on my knee.
We both looked at the spot where her hand rested before looking up at each other.
My face was still a mask of gravity.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav simply gave me a soft, calming smile.
She heard me inhale rapidly when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to let her fingers move around slowly on my knee and then some on my thigh.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued this for a short while as the room filled with a heavy, silent tension.
After slowly sliding across the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now directly in front of me rather than slightly at an angle she placed her other hand on my other knee and began softly rubbing both of my legs at the same time.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still had her legs crossed and knew that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid over, even more of her legs had become exposed so I could now easily see at least halfway up her thighs if I wanted to.
In addition, she had to lean over some to reach me properly and knew that this angle would give me an even better view of her cleavage if I wanted it.
Surely, I had seen more of her body exposed as we lounged around the pool together, but I never would have seen her body so teasing and erotically displayed for me.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav glanced at my lap and quickly noticed a bulge in my pants that hadn’t been there before.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled at me and felt her excitement grow even higher knowing she had given me a hard on.
“Sītā Bhārgav?” I said questioningly.
I didn’t say anything else but the tone of my voice and my expression clearly asked her what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was doing.
“Do you like this?” she asked softly.
“I…but…I can’t…you’re my friend’s wife,” I said gravely in quite clear opinion over what was happening.
“Shhhh,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly replied trying to keep me as calm as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could. “Don’t think like that. I know what it is like to be your age. So curious, so horny. I’m only a woman and you’re only a man.”
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly spoke Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued rubbing my legs, then reached up with her right hand, and brought it down over the bulge in my pants just as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav called me a man.
I smiled gravely even without a little surprise at her touch.
She felt her own excitement grow from the brief contact with my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund through the soft cotton fabric of my pants.
“Did that touch feel good?” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly asked looking up into my face.
I stared back at her with my face still showing gravity over what was happening.
However, there was now no denying the desire that was beginning to burn behind my eyes.
Still, I sat in silence simply staring at her.
Again Dr. Sītā Bhārgav spoke softly and slowly,
“Durgesh, I’ve seen the things you have on your computer. I know what you must do when you are alone looking at those pictures.” She paused as she replaced her right hand on my thigh.
This time her hand landed on the upper part of my thigh only a few inches from my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
She felt the muscles in my leg tense when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav touched me but I didn’t pull away.
“What I can give you is so much more than how that must feel,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said as she again slipped her fingers over to feel my hard Bachhalyā Lund through my pants. “This is my gift for you.”
When Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said that it was like some barrier that I had set up in my mind broke.
I let out a long, quiet moan and threw my head back slightly as her fingers touched me through my pants.
Sensing it was time Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid off the coffee table as she pushed my knees apart.
She knelt on the floor between my legs and reached up to the drawstring of my sweats.
Her long red nails easily grasped the ends of the strings and pulled the knot open.
She moved her hands to my sides and began to pull my sweats off.
I raised my hips off the couch and she pulled them down off my ass.
My Bachhalyā Lund was still stuck inside as I settled back down onto the couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav reached up and lifted them up as she pulled them off until my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund sprang free and stood tall and straight off my lap.
She pulled my sweats off both legs and tossed them aside.
Part of her wanted to begin with my toes and slowly kiss and touch me up my leg but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was so wildly excited and in need of a good fuck that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t able to think of foreplay right now.
Besides, if Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was correct about me, I may last much longer in my obvious excitement before I would cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned forward toward my Bachhalyā Lund staring at it closely.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s husband had been a great lover but his Brāhmañ penis had always been a little shorter and smaller than average.
My was probably only average in size or perhaps a bit larger, but in comparison to her memories of her husband and considering how desperately horny Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was it looked huge and more tempting than anything Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could imagine.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned over my lap and since my Bachhalyā Lund was standing so straight and hard Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was able to take it between her lips without even holding its shaft.
She immediately took about half my length into her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth as I released a near primal indication of ecstasy.
The end came after almost an hour.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had really sucked my Bachhalyā Lund madly and savagely, yet still sophisticated.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav bobbed her head a few times and licked the tip of my Bachhalyā Lund with her tongue.
She had fully intended on doing much, much more.
I called out very erudite and bucked my hips upward gravely as I started to cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel my cum surging through the shaft of my Bachhalyā Lund with her lips an instant before it erupted into her mouth with a force that shocked her.
She planned to take my whole load in her mouth but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was unprepared for the force and sheer volume of my Bachhalyā cum.
Her mouth was almost full after only the first couple of jets.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav struggled to swallow and keep my Bachhalyā Lund inside her mouth as I bucked my hips.
My Bachhalyā Lund was moving in, out and in to her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth, spurting my Bachhalyā cum heavily inside.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav grasped my Bachhalyā shaft with her Bhārgav Brāhmañ hand and began stroking me that only made me lustier again and seemed to intensify my cumming.
Never had Dr. Sītā Bhārgav experienced such a vast amount of cum.
She excitedly watched it spew out of my Bachhalyā Lund for what was a surprisingly long time before I finally stopped.
My last few spurts of cum barely trickled out of my Bachhalyā Lund and as her fingers worked them out they came out in thick globs that immediately ran down until her hand was coated with my Bachhalyā cum.
I looked her in the face again after I stopped cumming.
My eyes glowed with lust and satisfaction.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked back at me.
She had swallowed what was in her mouth and found the taste nasty and intoxicating all at the same time.
Yet, it was the tastiest thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had ever tasted in her life.
Yes, Ramā Bhārgav, her younger sister was correct.
The more she licked it the more she wanted to lick it even more, even more and even more.
Yes, her girlfriends were also correct.
They always talked of its incredible taste.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav always tried to stop them.
However, she herself wanted to talk about it now.
Wasn’t it a miracle?
Chapter 9
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 50
Posted: April 7, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 50
Durgesh Pārvatī Pāŧhak
Shiv Shankar Sharmā
Shiv Shankar Sharmā approached the door, and from the darkened hallway peered in through the crack.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was standing across the room from me.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed in boxers and a t-shirt.
I seemed a little uncomfortable talking to Pārvatī Pāŧhak in her revealing attire, but at the same Time Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see him looking her over whenever her eyes were averted.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was talking about my Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds, women friends and other similar Musalmān Beauties.
“They really aren’t right for you, and you should try to find someone else.”
“I know, I know,” I said wearily, clearly tired of talking and thinking about it. “But I can’t seem to hit it off with other women so easily and so naturally. I don’t think they find me attractive. The Musalmān Beauties are the women who…”
“Stop that,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife interrupted. “You are a very attractive man. Most women…” she paused. “I too, find you very attractive.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak‘s words gave Shiv Shankar Sharmā a lump in Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s throat.
Intellectually he knew that at an innocent level what she was saying was perfectly true.
He also knew that if she was crossing the bounds of platonic friendship it was not because she was really attracted to me, but rather to help Shiv Shankar Sharmā and their utmost neglected Brāhmañ community.
Hell, the progress of Brāhmañ society is however always dependent on Bachhalyā Brahmkanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī pairs.
Durgesh is so important now that no community can survive without having its female representatives on his nude Bachhalyā Hindu male lap.
She couldn’t blame Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak had herself reached the same conclusion whenever she thought about it.
But at the same Time, the words seemed to clutch at Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s heart.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was going to burst in, but he thought that maybe Pārvatī Pāŧhak could accomplish her purpose merely by building me up verbally.
I laughed.
“Great, the one other woman who finds me attractive is already married, and to my best friend at that.”
I seemed to become even more dejected.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak responded quickly to my discouragement.
“Even still, I have often thought about being with you.”
Had she?
Shiv Shankar Sharmā assumed she was just try to convince me I was attractive to the Brāhmañ Beauties too, but still Shiv Shankar Sharmā was thrown for a loop.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, you’re making me uncomfortable,” I muttered.
“Why? Haven’t you ever thought about being with me, making love to me?”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God, I…” I swallowed hard and then seemed unable to continue. “Pārvatī Pāŧhak, why are you teasing me like this?”
In the hallway, Shiv Shankar Sharmā cringed.
This was going worse than expected.
Rather than building me up for Brāhmañ Beauties, it seemed as if Pārvatī Pāŧhak were tearing me down instead.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak realized that things were moving in the wrong direction.
She again upped the ante.
“Who the hell says I am teasing you?” She asked sensuously, and then in one fluid motion she reached down and pulled her nightgown over her head and off.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh G-God, you are so beautiful,” I smiled as I surveyed Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s naked Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took two small steps towards me, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā reached out for the door.
“What about Shiv Shankar Sharmā?” I asked suddenly looking toward the door.
Instinctively, Shiv Shankar Sharmā recoiled and pressed back against the far wall of the hallway.
“He knows I am down here.”
“I-I don’t understand. Are you guys swingers?”
“No silly, Shiv Shankar Sharmā just knows how madly attracted I am to you. I begged him to let me come see you as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s birthday present to me. You know very well I have not been with another man before, neither since I met Shiv Shankar Sharmā.”
“Really? I mean, not about never having been with another man, but about being attracted to me?”
“Why else would I be here dressed this way?”
We both laughed cunningly, yet not lewdly, sophisticatedly instead.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was again going to burst, but then he glanced at my face.
It was radiant.
For the first Time in years, Shiv Shankar Sharmā saw me smile a real smile.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was frozen again.
“I want to make love to you,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said suddenly, bluntly.
And with those words, Shiv Shankar Sharmā knew he could not stop it now.
Too much had been said, and if he burst in now, Shiv Shankar Sharmā would be crushed, Pārvatī Pāŧhak mortified, and the entire friendship destroyed.
Moreover, it would be even far more destructive to their respective Brāhmañ societies than it were if he hadn’t started it.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak, his immensely faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife has gone now to Durgesh for ever.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā and his Brāhmañ friends had always criticized their Musalmān friends for deliberately cuckolding themselves for their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies and me using me as present to their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies on their birthdays, anniversaries etcetera.
Nevertheless, what he had done today?
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was now standing above me.
I took her hands in mine.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, I can’t. You are a dear friend, but I just can’t do this to Shiv Shankar Sharmā and Shiv Shankar Sharmā can’t do it to you.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s hopes soared.
Good old I was going to save him after all.
“I want you,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied simply.
“No, I…”
“Shhh, don’t say a word,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife interrupted as she placed a finger across my lips.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak leaned forward and replaced her finger with her quivering red crimson Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lips, kissing me softly.
“Just close your eyes, and pretend it’s a dream,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak whispered as she broke the kiss and fell to her knees.
For a moment, it seemed like I was going to object, but then slowly I complied.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak gently massaged my well-defined quads, and then slowly pressed my legs apart.
Leaning forward, Pārvatī Pāŧhak trailed soft, wet kisses up and down my inner thighs.
I moaned softly, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak ran a hand up my leg until it rested on my crotch.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak moved forward deliberately, kissing me, rubbing her body against my legs, letting me feel her bare, erect Pāŧhak Brāhmañ nipples against my Bachhalyā Hindu skin.
At the same Time, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started moving the hand on my Bachhalyā groin in languid circles.
As she got closer in, Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted up my t-shirt with her other hand and started kissing my strong, hairy chest.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak ran her tongue over my stomach, teasing my bellybutton, and tracing my hair as it thickened over my abdomen.
She pressed her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ chest between my Bachhalyā legs, twisting and turned sensuously as Pārvatī Pāŧhak rubbed against me.
With my eyes still closed, I reached out and cautiously ran my fingers through her hair and traced the shape of her ears and cheeks.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak straightened up for a moment and pushed my t-shirt up over my head removing it and tossing it on the bed.
Then Pārvatī Pāŧhak leaned back, grabbed my boxers with both hands, and began to ease them off.
I accommodated her by lifting meself off the bed slightly, and then I was as naked as Pārvatī Pāŧhak herself was.*
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak pulled my shorts past my feet, I got a look between my legs.
Although Shiv Shankar Sharmā had known me for twenty-five years, Shiv Shankar Sharmā had never seen me naked, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā had never known how well endowed I was.
But there, between my legs was unquestionably the most impressively piece of Bachhalyā Hindu manhood Shiv Shankar Sharmā had ever seen in real life.
“Hey Bhagvān! Oh God, what a stunning cock! Bachhalyā Hindu Lund, isn’t it? ” Pārvatī Pāŧhak exclaimed when she finally looked up.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took it in her hand and stroked it up and down.
Her hand looked tiny against my bulk.
And when Pārvatī Pāŧhak placed one hand above the other, a lot of my shaft and my entire oversized glans were still visible.
As impressive as my length was my incredible thickness.
At the touch of her hand, my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund went completely rigid, although thankfully it did not expand any further.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak seemed to be in pleasant shock.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me, and then back down into my lap.
I’d never known Pārvatī Pāŧhak to have a size fetish, but face to face with my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund Pārvatī Pāŧhak was unquestionably excited.
Her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ face flushed, and she eagerly started kissing me wetly up and down my Bachhalyā shaft even as she continued to pump me with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ fist.
I moaned softly as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife fondled me.
Encouraged, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started licking me up and down, with slow, wide Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue lashes.
My huge Bachhalyā Hindu Lund glistened with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ saliva, and as Pārvatī Pāŧhak stroked me up and down, her hand made a loud squishing sound.
“That feels good,” I moaned.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak continued licking my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund like a ice cream cone for a while, and then Pārvatī Pāŧhak trailed soft wet kisses down my Bachhalyā shaft until Pārvatī Pāŧhak came to my scrotum.
One at a Time, Pārvatī Pāŧhak took my heavy Bachhalyā balls into her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, making me shiver with pleasure.
Then kissing her way back up my length, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started kissing the head of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund, her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue playfully lapping at my Bachhalyā precum as it leaked from my opening.
Still stroking me up and down with both hands now, Pārvatī Pāŧhak opened her quivering red crimson Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lips wide and took the tip of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth.
Slowly Pārvatī Pāŧhak started bobbing up and down, taking me deeper and deeper until she had the top third of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund inside her.
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak fucked my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund with her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, Pārvatī Pāŧhak made loud slurping, sucking sounds, her cheeks hollowing out as Pārvatī Pāŧhak massaged me with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue.
Without warning, I suddenly gasped, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak started making loud gulping sounds.
It took me a second to realize I had cum in her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I muttered over and over.
But Pārvatī Pāŧhak did not seem upset.
To the contrary she kept sucking me hard, seemingly wanting to milk me dry.
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak continued to lick and slurp my Bachhalyā meat, I ran my hands through her long, luxurious hair, and started moaning,
“Thank you, thank you.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted her head for a second.
Her quivering red crimson Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lips were coated with my Bachhalyā Hindu Vīrý, which ran down the sides of her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, and connected her to my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
My Bachhalyā Hindu Lund was still leaking significant amount of seed, which flowed down the shaft and over her hands.
It was devastating for Shiv Shankar Sharmā to see Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife kneeling in front of me, performing oral sex, her hands and wedding band covered with my Bachhalyā Hindu sperm.
“I’ve never seen this much cum,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak gushed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak licked the cum from her fingers, and then enthusiastically started cleaning my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God, it’s been so long. So long,” she moaned in delight.
Although my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund seemed to soften after I came, Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s delligent attention quickly changed that.
In less than five minutes, My Bachhalyā organ was again in launch position.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me.
“You seem excited,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak cooed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak stood up and approached me.
I needed no more encouragement.
I leaned forward and buried my face in her closely trimmed muff, slurping at her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot vigorously.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned, “do you feel, Durgesh darling, méré Bachhalyā Hindu Piyā, Brahmkanyāsām Brahmāñīsānch Bachhalyā Patidévah, Bachhalyā Hindu husband of us Brāhmañ Beauties! How wet I am?”
As if to answer, I reached around and slipped my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund into her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot from behind.
Her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot made an obscene squishing sound as I fucked her wet Pāŧhak Brāhmañ hole with my ever aggressive Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed my waist and pushed me deeper.
“I want you more and more inside me, Bachhalyā Piyā!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak grunted urgently.*
I sat back on the bed, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak climbed onto my Bachhalyā lap facing me.
Reaching between her legs, Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed my thick Bachhalyā shaft and guided it into her waiting Pāŧhak Brāhmañ snatch.
Then slowly she impaled herself with on my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned, her head swaying back and forth. “I feel so fucking full.”
And then Pārvatī Pāŧhak made a soft, sensuous gurgling sound, and buried her face into my chest.
“I’m cumming,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak whimpered, as her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ body convulsed over and over.
More relaxed than ever, Pārvatī Pāŧhak melted into me, my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund now completely buried inside her.
“That feels so good,” she moaned.
Then Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me, teary-eyed.
“I love your Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.” And then after a few moments, she added, “Durgesh darling, méré Bachhalyā Hindu Piyā, Brahmkanyāsām Brahmāñīsānch Bachhalyā Patidévah, Bachhalyā Hindu husband of us Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Beauties! I want to feel you cum inside me.”
I seemed happy to oblige.
I started thrusting my hips up and down, slowly fucking Pārvatī Pāŧhak in and out.
Once Pārvatī Pāŧhak recovered from her orgasm, Pārvatī Pāŧhak responded by lifting herself up and lowering herself onto my Bachhalyā shaft.
As we got used to each other’s movement, we started fucking hard and fast.
“Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned as I pounded into her.
Her cries of passion redoubled when I leaned forward and started squeezing her big Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tits into my Bachhalyā palms.
Then I reached around and grabbed a Pāŧhak Brāhmañ ass cheek in each Bachhalyā hand, spreading her apart, and giving me the leverage to fuck her harder and deeper.
It also gave me a completely unobstructed view of my thick Bachhalyā pole pounding into her exposed Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
As we fucked each other’s brains out, we started kissing passionately.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak loved to kiss, and has often told Shiv Shankar Sharmā Pārvatī Pāŧhak considered deep kissing even more intimate.
And now, as Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched, Pārvatī Pāŧhak was kissing me so hard, Shiv Shankar Sharmā thought Pārvatī Pāŧhak might swallow my Bachhalyā lips.
We were both moaning loudly through our intertwined tongues.
Then suddenly, Pārvatī Pāŧhak gasped and threw back her head.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak growled through clenched teeth as Pārvatī Pāŧhak came again.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt sick to Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s stomach.
In all Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s years with Pārvatī Pāŧhak, she had never cum more than once during sex.
After Pārvatī Pāŧhak stopped shaking, she became much more passive.
I started fucking her more slowly.
I lifted her up until my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund was almost completely out, and then slowly lowered her onto my thick Bachhalyā shaft giving her my full Bachhalyā length with my each aggressive Bachhalyā stroke.
“This is so good,” she sighed again.
“Mmmm, yes,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak again responded, clamping onto my Bachhalyā mouth and kissing me deeply again.
By the clock on the nightstand, and continued passing of days and nights, Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched as Pārvatī Pāŧhak and I made love for over a month nonstop, yet it seemed to Pārvatī Pāŧhak, and as well as to Shiv Shankar Sharmā, as if it was a lifeTime.
Neither Pārvatī Pāŧhak had ever experienced such an incredible miracle, nor Shiv Shankar Sharmā had ever witnessed.
At the end, we started fucking fervently again.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak put her hands on My shoulders and ground her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot hard against my Bachhalyā crotch.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak leaned forward and started sucking my neck, moving on to nibbling my ear lobes.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak started whimpering in my ear:
“You feel so good. I love your big Bachhalyā Hindu Lund. God, I love your big Bachhalyā Hindu Lund. I want to feel you cum inside me.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s intoxicating sexy talk seemed to get me even hotter.
I started pumping my hips faster and faster, until my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund became blur pistoning into Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife’s stretched Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
Amazingly, as I raced towards my climax, Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s sounds of passions got louder and louder.
“Oh yeah,” I growled, my whole Bachhalyā body tensing suddenly.
“Hey Bhavān! God, I can feel you coming,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak managed to grunt out before Pārvatī Pāŧhak climaxed yet again.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak draped herself across my chest, and we both slowly pumped our hips as we enjoyed the afterglow.
“That was amazing,” I said softly.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied, “I’ve never felt anything like it. A woman is an idiot to give you up. You are an amazing lover, méré Bachhalyā Piyā.”
I smiled brightly, but then a slight frown came across my face.
“Now! You’re gonna have to go soon, I think.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak nodded her head bubbling with immense ecstasy.
“Hey! Not soon, after a complete month of nonstop incredible sex with you. I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“What are you going to tell Shiv Shankar Sharmā?”
“Durgesh, my absolutely amazing Bachhalyā lover, all I want to know is that you are happy, and that you understand how special you are. Did Shiv Shankar Sharmā interrupt us? No! Not even in a complete month of our nonstop sex. What the hell more proof you want from him that he hasn’t any objection if we both have as much sex as we damn love to? He would have killed us if it were Not You. Understand? Knock ’em dead at that fuck session tomorrow.”
With that, Pārvatī Pāŧhak slowly lifted herself up, sliding my thick Bachhalyā Hindu Lund back out of her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
My Bachhalyā Hindu Lund slapped wetly against my thigh.
“Sleep well,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said, as Pārvatī Pāŧhak reached for her nightgown and started toward the door, her eyes still eyeing my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund lustily.*
Chapter 51
————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Badchalan: 2
Posted: April 5, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Taħrīk Al Jamhūriyat Al Islam, Arvind Pāŧhak, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Brahm Bhagwatī Sītā Paulastý Rāvañi, Creative adult sex in Hindi, Creative adult sex in Urdu, Ǻllāmah Salmān Khan, Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās, Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ, Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī, Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Jacqueline Lincoln, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Mustafa Kemāl Atāturk, Nandinī Agnihotrī, Padminī Agnihotrī, Prabhā Agnihotrī, premarital sex, Pūjā Agnihotrī, Ramā Agnihotrī, Rukħsānah Salmān, Sex Therapist, Sex Therapy, Shubhrā Agnihotrī, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Sudhā Agnihotrī, Taħannus, Taħannus Bhābhījān, William Lincoln, Zubayr Yūsuf, Zāhidah Salmān Leave a commentBadchalan
Durgesh
Chapter 2
Zāhidah Salmān kī kħushī chhupāyé nahīn chhup rahī thī.
Zubayr Yūsuf ko jo kħauf khāyé jā rahā thā, voh Zāhidah Salmān bhī kħūb achchhī taraħ samajh rahī thī.
Lékin aaj hī to Zāhidah Salmān ko mauqā milā thā.
Bahut burī taraħ béizzat kiyā thā Zubayr Yūsuf né Zāhidah Salmān kī Ammī ko.
“Ék Hindu sé, ék kāfir sé chudvāné wālī béħayā Musalmān åurat kyā jāné ki īmān par mar miŧnā kyā hotā hai.”
Yah kahā thā Zubayr Yūsuf né uskī Ammī ké mutålliq.
Ab Zāhidah Salmān dikhāyégī Zubayr Yūsuf ko, ki uské apné kħāndān kī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān sharīfzādiyān kħud kitnī pāgal hain Durgesh kā Uncut Hindu Lund apnī chust kasī huī Musalmān Chooton ké andar jađ tak nigalné, aur qayāmat tak niglī rahné ké liyé.
“Zubayr Yūsuf Bhāījān,” Zāhidah Salmān phir chahkī, “Durgesh aaj vāqaåī aa rahé hain?”
“Yah sawāl tum mujhsé savéré sé ab tak lātådād martabah kar chukī ho. Kyā baat hai? Jaisé jaisé Durgesh ké aané kā vaqt ho rahā hai, tumhārī bahādurī kā janāzah niklā jā rahā hai?”
“Main āpkī ānkhon ké sāmné chudvā kar dikhāūngī Durgesh sé.”
Zubayr Yūsuf ék tanziyah hansī hansā.
“Vāqaåī?”
“Main kħud Durgesh par mārtī hūn.”
“To abhī tak jhakh kyon maar rahī thien? Us Hindu Sex maniac sé chudvā saknā kyā tum jaisī qayāmatkħéz Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ħusnparī ké liyé bhī dushwār thā?”
“Yahī to maslah hai, Bhāījān.”
“Kyā matlab? What the hell you mean?”
“Āp tamām Pseudo Musalmīn yah samajhté hain ki koī bhī balā kī ħasīn naujawān Musalmān åurat, jab uskā jī chāhé, bađī āsānī sé Durgesh sé chudvā saktī hai.”
“Chudvā nahīn saktī, chudvātī hai. Samjhīn?” Zubayr Yūsuf ék talkħ hansī hansā, “Har balā kī ħasīn naujawān Musalmān åurat Durgesh sé chudvātī hai.”
“Jis taraħ Taħannus Bhābhījān aur Rukħsānah Salmān Bājī Durgesh sé chudvātī hain?”
“Hān.”
“Āpné kħud apnī ānkhon sé dékhā hai Taħannus Bhābhījān ko kabhī Durgesh sé chudvāté?”
“Main tumhāré bāp, Salmān Khan māmū jaisā béghairat nahīn hūn.”*
Zāhidah Salmān ké tan badan mein aag lag gaī.
Apné vālid Ǻllāmah Salmān Khan sé béħad muħabbat kartī thī Zāhidah Salmān.
Aur Zāhidah Salmān hī kyon, Ǻllāmah Salmān Khan kī tamām béŧiyān unsé bépanāh muħabbat kartī thien.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan kī taraħ ék misālī zindagī jīnā chāhté thé Zāhidah Salmān ké Abbū, Ǻllāmah Salmān Khan.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan ké role model thé Mustafā Kemāl Atāturk.
Jis taraħ Turkey mein Jamhūriyat lāī thī Mustafā Kemāl Atāturk né, Imām Muħammad Ħasan bhī usī taraħ Jamhūriyat lānā chāhté hain, lékin kisī ék mulk mein nahīn, tamām Islamī mumālik mein.
Yahī wajah thī ki Imām Muħammad Ħasan Ǻllāmah Salmān Khan ké role model ban chuké thé.
Sirf itnā hī nahīn, Ǻllāmah Salmān Khan né bāqāyedah ék taħrīk bhī shurū kar dī thī, Al Taħrīk Al Jamhūriyat Al Islam.
Pūjā Agnihotrī tađap kar uŧh khađī huī.
“Kyā kahā? Tumhārī yah majāl?”
“Apnī māmūzād bahan ko nahīn kahogī kuchh? Sabīħah Salmān kis taraħ chūs rahī thī Durgesh Jījū kā Uncut Hindu Lund? Tumhīn né ākar batāyā thā na mujhé? Aur zabardastī khīnch kar lé gaī thien mujhé voh sab dikhāné?” Arvind Pāŧhak né muskurāté hué apnī naī navélī sophisticated Brāhmañ patnī ko chhéđā.
Usko pūrā yaqīn thā ki Pūjā Agnihotrī usé kunwārī nahīn milī hai.
Is zamāné mein koī lađkī aŧŧhāis saal tak kunwārī rahé, itnā pāgal nahīn thā Arvind Pāŧhak ki isé sach samajhtā.
“Dékho Pūjā,” usné shādī sé pahlé hī saaf saaf apnī honé wālī bīwī, Pūjā Agnihotrī, sé kah diyā thā, “Durgesh Jījū sé jismānī tålluqāt aaj ék åām bāt ho gaī hai. Durgesh Jījū ké ålāvā agar kisī sé tumhāré tålluqāt rahé hon, to mujhé batā do.”
Pūjā Agnihotrī né nihāyat hī hamdardī ké sāth apné honé wālé pati par nigāh dālī thī.
“Yånī Durgesh Jījū ké sāth méré jismānī tålluqāt par tumko koī åetrāz nahīn hai? Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Arvind Pāŧhak né bađī mushkil sé apné āp ko sambhālā.
“Shādī ké båd tum sirf Durgesh Jījū ké sāth apné aésé tålluqāt jārī rakh saktī ho, méré ålāvā, aur kisī ké sāth hargiz nahīn.”
Pūjā Agnihotrī hansī thī.
“Bahut darté ho Durgesh Jījū sé?”
“Bahut izzat kartā hūn unkī.” Arvind Pāŧhak né nihāyat hī pursukūn lahjé mein jawāb diyā, “Durgesh Jījū mérī saat sagī bahnon aur kaī mamérī, chachérī, phuphérī aur mausérī bahnon ké iklauté live in relationship partner hain. Méré pūré kħāndān par anékon aħsānāt hain Durgesh Jījū ké.”
“Kitnī bahnén hain tumhārī jo is taraħ Durgesh Jījū kī live in relationship partner ban sakné mein kāmyāb ho chukī hain?” Pūjā Agnihotrī ko béħad ħasad ho rahī thī Arvind Pāŧhak kī bahnon sé.
Ghazab kī taqdīr likhwā kar lāī thien kambakħt.
Sab kī sab Durgesh Jījū kī?
Kamāl hai.
“Kabhī ginī nahīn.” Arvind Pāŧhak mand mand muskurātā huā, Pūjā Agnihotrī ko chhéđtā huā bolā thā.
“Phir bhī. Koī andāzah to hogā hī na?”
“Voh to hai. Hongī yahī koī déđh do sau sab milākar.”
“Lo, aur mérī Ammījān farmātī hain ki jitnī lađkiyān hum Musalmānon mein paidah hotī hain, utnī aur kisī society mein paidah nahīn hotīn.”
“Ékdam Durust farmātī hain tumhārī Ammījān. Mérī tamām mamérī aur mausérī bahnén Musalmān hī to hain. Aur unhīn kī tådād kul milākar ék sau bīs yā ék sau tīs sé oopar ho jātī hai. Mérī sagī, chachérī aur phuphérī Brāhmañ bahnén to mushkil sé bīs tīs sé zyādah nahīn hongī.”
“Khodā pahāđ, niklī chuhiyā.”
“Kyā kahā?”
“Kuchh nahīn, tumhārī bhābhiyon ké bāré mein poochh rahī thī.”
“Kyā poochh rahī thien?”
“Yahī ki unkī tådād to tumhārī bahnon kī tådād sé bhī zyādah hogī.”
“Béshak,” Arvind Pāŧhak ħairānī sé bolā, “tumko kaisé målūm?”
“Bas, samajh jāo. ‘Kħat kā majmūn bhānp lété hain lifāfā dékh kar’.”*
Arvind Pāŧhak ko Pūjā Agnihotrī kī yahī intehāī aggressiveness sakħt nāpasand thī.
Lékin voh kyā kar saktā thā?
Pūjā Agnihotrī sé pyār kartā thā voh, bépanāh muħabbat.
Usko kħūb achchhī taraħ målūm thā ki Pūjā Agnihotrī Durgesh Jījū kī ghulām hai.
Voh khulkar kahtī thī,
“Durgesh Jījū né mujhé chodkar mérī jaan bachāī hai. Main jab tak zindah rahūngī, unké talvé chāŧūngī, unkā Bachhalyā Lund chūsūngī, unsé chudvāūngī, unsé mérī Agnihotrī Brāhmañ gaanđ marāūngī, unkī ghulāmī karūngī main zindagī bhar.”
Padminī Dīxit né Pūjā Agnihotrī kī pīŧh thapthapāī thī.
“Shābās, hum Brahmkanyāon mein Durgesh ké sāth sex ko lékar aesī dīwāngī lagbhag na ké barābar hī pāī jātī hai. Tum koī akelī lađkī, tum koī akelī åurat nahīn ho, jisé chodkar Durgesh né uskī jaan bachāī ho. Durgesh Anant Sr’shŧi Chod hai. Is yug kā sarvottam Sex therapist hai. Hum åuraton ko chodkar hamārī jaan bachānā uskā profession hai, duty hai, kartavý hai, farz hai. Samjhīn?”
“Main nahīn māntī ki Durgesh Jījū né mujhé sirf is wajah sé chodā ki agar voh us vaqt mujhé nahīn chodté to main mar jātī.”
Padminī Dīxit hansī.
“Kyonki tum mānnā nahīn chāhtīn. Tumné apné āpko self-hypnotize kar rakhā hai ki tum mein aesī koī exclusive, sabsé alag thalag, nirālī baat hai, jissé Durgesh tumhén chodkar tumhārī jaan bachāné ké liyé pāgal ho gayā thā.”
Pūjā Agnihotrī né pūrī sanjīdagī ké sāth Dr. Padminī Dīxit ko dékhā.
“Nahīn hai mujh mein aesī koī special individuality?”
Dr. Padminī Dīxit muskurāī.
“Voh to kħair, har åurat mein hotī hai.”*
Pūjā Agnihotrī hans dī.
Human Psychology mein PhD kī thī Pūjā Agnihotrī né.
Ék åjīb sī ghaŧnā ghaŧī thī Pūjā Agnihotrī ké parivār mein.
Us ghaŧnā né ék nihāyat hī kāmyāb Medical Specialist parivār mein paidah honé ké bāwajūd Pūjā Agnihotrī ko Human Psychology mein PhD karné kā sankalp léné par majbūr kar diyā thā.
Durgesh sé sakħt nafrat karté thé Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī.
“He is an incurable sex maniac.” voh kahté thé, “Us vyakti né apné intehāī sexy honé ko justify karné ké liyé na sirf Hinduism, pratyut tamām majāhib ko sex centred banā dālā hai.”
“Lékin, Rām, Durgesh is daur-e-ħāzir kā sabsé zyādah kāmyāb Sex therapist hai. Dr. Jacqueline Lincoln ko cancer ho gayā thā. Tamām Medical Specialist jawāb dé chuké thé. Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ né Dr. Jacqueline Lincoln ké Arch Bishop father William Lincoln ko approach kiyā. Voh nahīn mane, lékin unkī bīwī né Dr. Jacqueline Lincoln kī Sex Therapy kī ijāzat dé dī. Natījah, Durgesh né Dr. Jacqueline Lincoln ko ék mahīné ké andar chod chod kar ŧhīk kar diyā.” Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās né apné ghor karmkāndī Brāhmañ Hindu pati ko ŧonkā.
Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī itné kaŧŧar Hindu thé ki unhoné apnī ardent Musalmān bīwī, Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās, kā naam badal kar Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī rakh diyā thā.
Apnā yah nayā naam Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās ko bhī béħad pasand āyā thā.
Bhagwatī Sītā unkā ideal thien.
Lékin apné is nayé naam ké bāwajūd Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās né na apnā mazhab badlā thā, na Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī né hī aesī koī shart rakhī thī.
Kitnī åjīb baat thī!
Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī aur Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī kā na koī Lav paidah huā, na Kush.
Unkī sabsé bađī béŧī thī, Dr. Padminī Agnihotrī.
Unkī dūsrī béŧī thī, Dr. Ramā Agnihotrī.
Unkī tīsrī béŧī thī, Dr. Sudhā Agnihotrī.
Unkī chauthī béŧī thī, Dr. Prabhā Agnihotrī.
Unkī pānchvīn béŧī thī, Dr. Nandinī Agnihotrī.
Unkī chhaŧhvīn béŧī thī, Dr. Shubhrā Agnihotrī.
Unkī sātvīn béŧī thī, Pūjā Agnihotrī jo abhī Doctor nahīn banī thī, pađh rahī thī.
Tūfān us vaqt āyā jab Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ né Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī aur Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās ko approach kiyā.*
Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī né pāglon kī taraħ Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ kī taraf dékhā.
“What the hell you mean? Voh is Rām kī Sītā hai.”
“Voh Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās hai, mérī bachpan kī sahélī.”
“Main jāntā hūn.”
“Jī,” Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ sakħtī sé bolī, “main jāntī hūn, ki aap jānté hain.”
“Voh Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās mar chukī hai. Yah uskā dūsrā janm hai. Ab voh Bhagwatī Sītā ko apnā ideal māntī hai.”
Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ hansī.
“Brahm Bhagwatī Sītā Paulastý Rāvañi kal bhī uskā ideal thien.”
“Nahīn thien. Voh sirf zabānī jamā kħarch thā. Hotīn to Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās Durgesh ké sāth premarital sex ké mazé na lé rahī hotīn.”
“He is right, Farīdah,” Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās sanjīdagī sé bolī, “Brahm Bhagwatī Sītā Paulastý Rāvañi us vaqt bhī mérā ideal thien, lékin not as seriously as she is now.”
Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ muskurāī.
“Tum nahīn chāhtīn ki tumhārā apnā koī beŧā ho?”*
Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās né ék sāns lī.
“Bilkul chāhtī hūn. Lékin voh beŧā Durgesh kā nahīn, Rām kā honā chāhiyé.”
“Yånī ki ab tum mukammil taur par Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī ban chukī ho?”
“Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī bannā méré liyé fakħr kī baat hai.”
“Sun liyā?” Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī né vijayī muskān ké sāth garvpūrvak Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ kī taraf dékhā, “Tumhārī Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Ǻbbās ké liyé mérī Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī bannā fakħr kī baat hai aur méré liyé Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī kā mérī patnī honā fakħr kī baat hai.”
“Yånī ki Kħadījah Durgesh sé chudvā saktī hai, Sītā nahīn?”
“Hargiz nahīn.”
“Tum pāgal ho,” Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ hansī, “Durgesh aaj lātådād Sītāon ko chod rahā hai aur unsé apné kaī Lav aur Kush paidah kar chukā hai.”
“You are right. But they are NOT Dr. Sītā Agnihotrī.” Dr. Rām Chandr Agnihotrī né ŧhandī āwāz mein kahā.*
Chapter 3
—————————————-
More from Durgesh:
2. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives: 29
Posted: April 5, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Salmān Al Yåqūb, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Doctor Rābiyah Altamash, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, incest, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, Saåīdah Yåqūb, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentThe Everbest Wives
Chapter 29
Hidden Intentions
Durgesh Saåīdah Yåqūb
I was Saåīdah Yåqūb’s older brother.
Of course, not real, her real brother’s friend instead.
It was unfortunate that Saåīdah Yåqūb’s real brother had left them.
Saåīdah Yåqūb knew it was all her Ammī’s fault.
Was it really?
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, her Ammī, was a young woman still, after all.
“She should have married someone, Saåīdah.” her brother was furious, “How the hell can I bear my Ammī is a live in relationship partner of my own friend?”
Saåīdah Yåqūb watched him gravely.
“What’s wrong in it?”
“Durgesh is my Abbū.”
“Oh, hadn’t our Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, married our Ammī when she was Just Eighteen Just Adult and our Abbū was fifty six?”
“Saåīdah!”
“Certainly you are not telling me that Abbū could marry a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty but the same Musalmān Beauty can’t do it, when it’s her turn. She isn’t fifty six even. She is only forty two.”
“Are you crazy? Everyone is calling our Ammī a cougar.”
“So what? Isn’t Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī a cougar? Isn’t Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad a cougar? Isn’t Doctor Rābiyah Altamash a cougar? Aren’t a large number of working sophisticated filthy rich Musalmān Beauties cougars now? If our ultramodern sophisticated society is still respecting them, what the hell else our Ammī is doing?”
“I don’t want to argue with you. I can’t bear that my friends tease me calling Durgesh my Abbū.”
“Well?” Saåīdah Yåqūb watched her elder brother with burning eyes, “What the hell you want? Distribution of our ancestral businesses and property? Tell expressly. Come out with your real vile hidden intentions.”*
Saåīdah Yåqūb never told Salmān Yåqūb, her brother, what her own vile hidden intentions were.
But there was a reason behind it.
For a long time she herself had a crush on me.
She favored her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, not because she was broad minded ab initio.
She had seen me fucking her Ammī actually.
Allah, what tremendous lovely nude pair her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, with Durgesh made!
Saåīdah Yåqūb honestly realized, first time, her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was not made for her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb ever.
She was made for Durgesh actually.
What if Durgesh was thirty four?
What if her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was forty two?
If the fifty six years old Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb could marry Just Eighteen Just Adult Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, entirely unashamed of himself, why the hell forty two years old her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, can’t fuck thirty two years old Durgesh?
Saåīdah Yåqūb knew Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, her Abbū, was old now.
He was fifty six already when her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was Just Eighteen Just Adult.
Now, her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was forty two.
She was entire twenty four years younger when she was married to her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb.
Now, her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, was eighty years old.
He had stopped having sex with her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, when he was not even sixty.
Her parents enjoyed sex with each other only for one year.
One year?
Saåīdah Yåqūb overheard her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, telling Durgesh that her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb failed even in their Shab-e-Ůrūsī, their very Golden night.
her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, fucked Durgesh first time then.
Was Durgesh only ten years old then?
And her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, fucked a ten years old Hindu boy to extinguish the sexual fire between her legs?
Saåīdah Yåqūb couldn’t believe it.
Had the entire other adult males died already?
Yes, her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was Just Eighteen Just Adult.
She could have compromised on an eight years younger Hindu boy even.
Moreover, Durgesh was a hypersexual boy ab initio.
It is said Durgesh was fucking extremely beautiful adult Musalmān Beauties too as early as he could fuck a girl/woman.
Nevertheless, her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, was eighty.
What’s wrong there if her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, fucks an eight years younger Hindu male?
Her brother, Al Salmān Al Yåqūb, is communal.
He is jealous of his Hindu friend, Durgesh.
Well, none could say her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was forty two.
She looked ten years younger than her real age.
Durgesh thirty four.
her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, thirty two.
What a perfect match!
Isn’t it?
To hell with her ever communal ever selfish brother, Al Salmān Al Yåqūb.*
I was pretty much the worst guy she could possibly be attracted to as far as Saåīdah Yåqūb was concerned.
Moreover, it was possible that I wasn’t interested in a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty while other almost infinite Musalmān Beauties were trying their luck with me.
Her own Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was providing immense sex to Durgesh.
Wasn’t she?
Moreover, her Ammī’s real sisters, her cousins, her Bhābhījāns and her extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends were also serving Durgesh sexually with their ever gorgeous ever glamorous ever ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent female Musalmān bodies.
Why the hell Durgesh would pay any attention to a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty, Saåīdah Yåqūb, then?
It wasn’t just that Durgesh was completely unattainable, that was pretty common for crushes as far as Saåīdah Yåqūb could tell.
It was always having me around, never getting a break from the fantasies floating around in Saåīdah Yåqūb’s head.
Every time she met me in the hallway coming out of the shower with my hair still damp and a towel wrapped around my waist, every time she watched me swimming laps in the pool in our backyard, thoughts would surface in Saåīdah Yåqūb’s head and drive her crazy.
I really was good looking, it wasn’t just Saåīdah Yåqūb who thought so.
Saåīdah Yåqūb’s friends talked about it sometimes, occasionally admitting their own crushes on me, but of course Saåīdah Yåqūb could never tell them how she felt.
That was one of the worst parts about it.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had nobody to talk to.
Moreover, despite all her persistent denials, Saåīdah Yåqūb still felt some inherent guilt that Durgesh was a Hindu and she, a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty, was herself dreaming of Durgesh.
The guilt had been really bad when Saåīdah Yåqūb first realized how she felt about me, but that had faded over time.
These days the main concern she had as she lay in bed at night masturbating to images of mine was that someone would find out.
In Saåīdah Yåqūb’s mind that would be disaster.
Who would ever want to hang out with Saåīdah Yåqūb if they knew something like that about her?
Especially Durgesh himself.
I was a pretty good older brother to her, an optimum replacement of her real brother, Al Salmān Al Yåqūb.
Once I grew out of constantly picking on me but Saåīdah Yåqūb was sure if I ever found out about Saåīdah Yåqūb’s crush on me, I would want nothing to do with Saåīdah Yåqūb.
Durgesh was himself already adjusting with her Ammī.
After all, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān was his friend’s Ammī.
Wasn’t she?
It might be more troublesome to his morals to have sexual relationship with his friend’s sister too.
Fortunately I seemed completely oblivious to the attention Saåīdah Yåqūb paid me.
Given all the times I had caught Saåīdah Yåqūb staring at me, it was a wonder I hadn’t yet noticed.*
Saåīdah Yåqūb was lying out on a lounger beside our pool working on her tan, nothing uncommon for her during
the summer.
I was just finishing up mowing the lawn.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had of course been surreptitiously watching me whenever I came into view.
She had gotten quite good at leaving her eyelids open just enough to see through without anyone being able to tell.
And when that was too difficult she could always fall back on simply wearing a pair of sunglasses.
Eventually I put the mower away in the garage and came over to sit down on the chair next to her.
I didn’t speak for a minute or two, and Saåīdah Yåqūb did her best to pretend she didn’t even notice me.
“How’s the tan coming Saåīdah Yåqūb?” I asked.
Saåīdah Yåqūb shrugged,
“Not bad. Need more sunny days like this, it’s been too cloudy lately.”
“Should make sure you don’t burn,” I said casually.
“I’m being careful,” Saåīdah Yåqūb replied, completely failing to pick up on my tone.
“Just in case maybe we should cool you off.”
Saåīdah Yåqūb squealed as I picked her up, finally catching on to what I was up to.
“Durgesh, wait, I…”
I ignored Saåīdah Yåqūb and tossed her into the pool.
As she surfaced and pushed her hair back out of her face she saw me staring constantly at her, she started to blush.
“Could I have my top please?” Saåīdah Yåqūb asked quietly to her own immense surprise.
She had been lying on her stomach and had untied Her bikini top to avoid getting a tan line across Her back.
She didn’t realize that when I picked her up but she had definitely become aware.
“Yeah sure,” I mumbled before throwing Saåīdah Yåqūb Her top.
I turned away as she put it on, giving her what privacy I could.
“Sorry about that Saåīdah Yåqūb, I really didn’t… it wasn’t….”
“I know it wasn’t on purpose, it’s okay. Really.” Saåīdah Yåqūb cooed.
She probably should have been as embarrassed as she was, probably should have been at least a little upset; Saåīdah Yåqūb wasn’t though.
It really was just an accident, not like I was being mean.
Aside from throwing Saåīdah Yåqūb in the pool anyway.
I offered a hand to Saåīdah Yåqūb and helped pull her out of the water.
If she were feeling vindictive, unkind, Saåīdah Yåqūb would have given me a shove toward the pool as she stood there awkwardly.
Instead Saåīdah Yåqūb picked up Her towel and headed inside.
A new fantasy was already building in Her mind.
Saåīdah Yåqūb wanted to get to Her room as quickly as possible.
She forced Her self to dry off properly first, no point dripping water over the floor and getting in trouble later.
Once safely inside Her room with the door locked Saåīdah Yåqūb was naked on Her bed within seconds.
Various scenarios played out in Her head as Her fingers worked furiously on Her pussy.
Sometimes I would refuse to give Saåīdah Yåqūb Her top, forcing her to climb out of the water and try to retrieve it on Her own.
I would grab Her breasts as she passed me and Saåīdah Yåqūb would pretend not to like it but she would ignore me.
Saåīdah Yåqūb would end up on the ground running Her fingers through my hair as I kissed on Her nipples and stroked Her Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy with my hand.
Other times, it went much like it actually did, only she would admit to her that I liked seeing her breasts.
Saåīdah Yåqūb thought impishly that she would offer to let me feel them and eventually she would.
Saåīdah Yåqūb would just stand there as I felt her up, then our eyes would meet and Saåīdah Yåqūb would kiss me.
It would be gentle at first, then her tongue would press into my mouth.
My hand would hold Her head firmly against mine.
Somehow we always ended up fucking beside the pool, that was the part that turned Saåīdah Yåqūb on the most.
Saåīdah Yåqūb came three times just thinking about it and eventually had to stop masturbating for a while.
As she lay on Her back waiting for Her breath to return to normal she looked over at the clock beside Her bed.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had been at it for almost an hour which was a pretty long time even for her.
Her hand lazily stroked the side of Her thigh and worked its way back to her ardent Musalmān clit.
Saåīdah Yåqūb just had to hope she didn’t overdo it and pass out from dehydration or something, that would be extremely awkward.*
Saåīdah Yåqūb was talking to Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān on the phone when the story slipped out.
“You mean Durgesh actually saw you topless?”
Saåīdah Yåqūb hadn’t actually decided whether she should tell anyone about it, but Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān was Her best friend and Saåīdah Yåqūb knew she would keep it secret.
“Yeah. It was kinda funny actually when I realized what I did. I was so embarrassed,” Saåīdah Yåqūb said winking at Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān.
“Do you think its going to be awkward between you guys?” Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān asked.
“Nah, I don’t think its a big deal really. Durgesh probably doesn’t even care except that he might be mad.”
There was a pause on the other end.
Saåīdah Yåqūb almost thought they might have gotten disconnected.
“I dunno Saåīdah Yåqūb, Durgesh might have been embarrassed because he liked seeing you, y’know, topless,” Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān said hesitantly.
Her comment freaked Saåīdah Yåqūb out for a second.
She was worried that Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān somehow found out about Her fantasies.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān didn’t actually know anything, she was just speculating.
It might even have just been a joke except that it didn’t seem like something she would joke about.
“Yeah right, I’m sure Durgesh wants to see me naked,” Saåīdah Yåqūb shot back, hoping Her pause hadn’t been too long.
“Whatever you say. But it does happen Saåīdah Yåqūb, I’m just saying.”
Saåīdah Yåqūb chewed on Her lip as Her mind raced.
She didn’t seem to be bothered by the idea of me wanting to look at her.
The question was whether she would be bothered by what Saåīdah Yåqūb wanted to tell her.
Saåīdah Yåqūb was so tired of keeping it secret that the opportunity was too much to pass up.
“Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān,” Saåīdah Yåqūb said slowly, “I want to tell you something, but it has to be a secret. You can’t tell it to anybody, ever. And I really hope it doesn’t freak you out.”
“I promise Saåīdah Yåqūb, cross my heart.”
She sounded intrigued, excited even.
Only because she didn’t know what Saåīdah Yåqūb was going to tell her; the best Saåīdah Yåqūb could hope for, after that, was indifference.
“I kinda… have thoughts about Durgesh. Like bad thoughts. Where he’s… naked and stuff.” Saåīdah Yåqūb knew she was making a mess of what Saåīdah Yåqūb wanted to say.
It wasn’t coming out right.*
She replied.
“Oh, yeah. I figured,”
It took a moment for her statement to sink in, I couldn’t even comprehend its significance.
“Wait, what? You knew?”
That was bad.
That was very bad.
Not that she knew so much, she clearly wasn’t all that upset.
But she had never told anyone as far as she could recall.
It meant it must be obvious how she felt.
Fuck, maybe everyone knew.
Maybe they were all laughing about it behind Her back.
Saåīdah Yåqūb was just the girl with a crush on her own Hindu Stepfather.
Moreover, she couldn’t even keep it a secret.
“Yeah, sorry Saåīdah Yåqūb. I’ve been pretty sure for a while that something was going on there. You know how I say you talk in your sleep? Well Durgesh’s name comes up a lot when you’re dreaming. Among other things”
Saåīdah Yåqūb was relieved to say the least.
If Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān had only worked it out because of what Saåīdah Yåqūb said in Her sleep then Saåīdah Yåqūb was probably safe.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān was the only person who had slept in the same room with Saåīdah Yåqūb for a long time.
Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t have to worry about anybody else knowing.*
The talks with Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān helped a lot.
Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t feel almost so alone anymore.
All the worrying she’d done about telling Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān seemed silly in hindsight, since she was nothing but supportive toward Saåīdah Yåqūb.
If Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān felt anything negative toward Saåīdah Yåqūb at all, she had never showed as much as even a hint of the same.
The rest of Her life remained pretty consistent.
Saåīdah Yåqūb still fantasized of me and masturbated too much.
I was worried now.
It wasn’t good either for her health or morals.
Soon it might appear on her character even if it wasn’t cured.
Should I fuck Saåīdah Yåqūb?
If she wants me, let her too have me?
What the hell difference would it make to me?
Even my Practical Chief Wife now was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, once my stepdaughter herself.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad had almost given their active charge to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Haven’t they?
If even my Practical Chief Wife today was once my stepdaughter, if a large number of my Live in relationship Partners now were once my stepdaughters, what’s wrong there if Saåīdah Yåqūb also joins them?
I must think of her character.
Must not I?
Saåīdah Yåqūb was unsurprisingly awkward around me at times, particularly when she was sunbathing.
Saåīdah Yåqūb ignored it for the most part since she assumed everything would get back to normal soon.
Everything did not, however, get back to normal.
Saåīdah Yåqūb was usually really good about keeping Her door locked when she was feeling horny.
Someone would have caught her masturbating long ago even if I would haven’t.
Obviously Saåīdah Yåqūb wasn’t quite as meticulous about it as she should have been.*
Saåīdah Yåqūb was just coming down from yet another self-inflicted orgasm when she saw me standing in the doorway.
My hand was still on the doorknob.
We stared at each other fascinated, as we shared a moment of ultimate intimacy, for what seemed like hours.
“I thought I heard my name…” I smiled boldly and looked at her.
“Allah, youuuuuuuuuuuuu? Get out!” Saåīdah Yåqūb shouted, finally reacting to the situation.
She pulled her blanket over her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī naked Musalmān body even though it was too late to do much good.
Then she pulled it over her head before burying her face in her pillow.
Hiding couldn’t help but she couldn’t think of anything else to do.
The floorboards creaked quietly as I approached the bed.
“Go away!” Saåīdah Yåqūb tried to yell but her words lacked the proper force.
Tears were welling up in her eyes.
I knew her secret now.
I heard her saying my name.
“Fuck me, Durgesh. Fuck me, Durgesh, please!!!”
Allah!
Yā Allah!
Rabbil Åālmīn!
Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t remember doing it, but it could easily have slipped out while she was cumming.
I definitely knew Saåīdah Yåqūb was masturbating when she said it too.
Maybe if she’d had clothes on at the time I could have passed it off as something else, but getting caught naked with her hand still lying on her cunt was pretty humiliating, and enormously embarrassing too.
Chapter 30
————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives: 27
Posted: April 5, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, incest, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Åbdullah, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentThe Everbest Wives
Chapter 27
Well, they used me right from the beginning.
Almost the entire extraordinary Musalmān Beauties who were hornier than the rest of them, never looked at me as a Just Eighteen Just Adult Hindu boy.
They always tried to take advantage of me sexually.
Yet, how the hell can, I blame them?
Am I not today, what they made me?
Yes, they were not making me.
I know it today.
Yet, being Just Eighteen Just Adult I wasn’t as skillful sexually as I am today.
But they were.
They were already married.
Yes, they were the Ammīs and Bājīs of my friends, the Ammīs and Bājīs of my beloveds, etcetera, yet they taught me how I could satisfy them sexually with my Just Eighteen Just Adult Uncut Hindu Cock.
Yes, I called them Ammīs and/or Bājīs, respecting their such relations with my friends, beloveds etcetera.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t go against them.
Yes, they were pleasure seekers with me.
So many of them didn’t love me actually.
It was a purely sexual relationship.
So what?
Can it alter the fact that they taught me how I could satisfy even the mature Musalmān Beauties sexually?
I damn care if they were cheating their husbands, fathers, brothers and/or their other male relatives/guardians.
Wasn’t it their own problem?
And if they couldn’t handle their own problem how the hell was I responsible for it?
It was late.
Yet I couldn’t help it.
Nishāt Zahīr didn’t allow me to pull out my Uncut Hindu Cock from her extremely ravenous ardent Musalmān Cunt.
How could I leave her unsatisfied?
I never left any of my women, whether young or mature, without satisfying her optimum.
It was a sin in my eyes.
No man has a right to leave any woman unsatisfied sexually once he started lovemaking with her.
That’s why the women cheated their man.
Even then, I came home with a painfully aching hard-on.
Eīshān Eīshān shammā shamīshān!
How utmost hypersexual a Just Eighteen Just Adult young Hindu man I was!
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān was working late.
I called her Ammī.
Actually, she was my friend, Muħammad Yåqūb’s Ammī.
I went straight to the bathroom.
In my haste to squeeze myself, I forgot to close and lock the bathroom door.
I yanked my pants down, grabbed some of Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s hand lotion and started stroking my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock, immediately.
I needed some relief quick.
I had just started stroking my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock when I noticed a pair of Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s soiled panties lying on the bathroom floor.
I picked them up and placed them to my Uncut Hindu Cock.
It was intoxicating.
Moreover, the fragrance of her ardent Musalmān Cunt was emanating from it.
My mind was a blur as I held Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s panties against my Uncut Hindu Cock and furiously stroked my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock with her panties surrounding it.
Naked visions of Al Siddīqah Al Salmān were flowing through my mind, when suddenly, I heard a loud gasp.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān was standing in the bathroom doorway with her hand over her extremely beautiful mouth.
There was nothing more embarrassing than having your friend’s mother catch you her dirty panties surrounding your Uncut Hindu Cock while you are squeezing.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān ran from the room immediately.
I pulled my pants up and quickly followed her trying to explain.
She told me she understood what I was doing, but I should have had the decency at least to lock the door.
We decided immediately, it was time for us to get a bigger place.
The next morning we went looking for a bigger place to live.
Luckily, a friend of hers, Lubnā Imrān, knew someone who had a small two-bedroom house Al Siddīqah Al Salmān could rent.
It needed some work and only had one bathroom but it was quite affordable for Al Siddīqah Al Salmān.
After inspecting it, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān decided to rent it.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān told Lubnā Imrān she would take it and we set about fixing it up.
After a new coat of paint and some minor repairs, the house was quite livable.
It was strange when we first moved into Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s new home because I’d never had my own bedroom at Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s household.
It was actually quite lonely without having Al Siddīqah Al Salmān lying next to me in bed.
Pretty soon though, everything seemed to get back to normal except for one thing, I still couldn’t get the intoxicating smell from her panties and the visions of her extremely beautiful naked ardent Musalmān body, out of my mind.
There was a tension between the two of us, after the bathroom incident that, never quite went away.
Years passed and Al Siddīqah Al Salmān got a promotion at work.
She would have to work more hours but the money was good.
I brought a couple of old computers home and totally rebuilt them.
I gave one of them to Al Siddīqah Al Salmān and taught her how to use it.
She seemed to really enjoy the computer and it didn’t take long before she had learned how to pay the bills with online banking.
More and more; my sexual fantasies were focused on Al Siddīqah Al Salmān.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān stood about 5 foot 6 with a slim figure and a perky set of tits.
She had long silky brown hair that flowed over her shoulders.
At the young age of 41, time had treated her well and I thought she was the most absolutely beautiful woman in the world.
The woman I wanted more than life itself was living in the same house with me, yet I could not touch her.
I was living a hell on earth.
On my 21st birthday, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān took me out to dinner.
For the first time since she caught me squeezing my Uncut Hindu Cock with her panties around it, I didn’t feel quite as much tension between us.
We went to a little private club in town and had a really good time.
After dinner we went to the local watering hole.
After a few drinks, a slow song was playing on the jukebox.
I asked Al Siddīqah Al Salmān if she would like to dance.
At first, she said no but I was persistent and she finally agreed.
By the time we made it to the dance floor, the song had ended.
I could see the disappointment in her eyes so I put a dollar in the jukebox and played some more music. When she gently laid her head on my shoulder, I was in heaven.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān had put her head on my shoulder, not as my friend’s Ammī would have.
On the other hand, was it my positive fantasy only?
I wasn’t sure.
We were swaying to the music and everything was going great until I developed a hard-on.
To my surprise, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān pulled herself closer to me.
We danced close together for a long time until I’m leaned down and tried to kiss her.
She pulled away with tears in her eyes and said.
“I think it’s best we call it a night.”
We went back to the bar and she finished her drinks without another word being spoken between us.
I paid our tab and we went home to our separate bedrooms.
Distraught, I went online to one of my favorite websites.
It was in an incest role-play site, where people go to live out their fantasies.
My username was EverbestFucker20.
The previous night I had left a message on the forum asking if any women would like to exchange erotic emails.
Lucky enough there was an answer in my inbox.
It was from a lady whose username was iwantDurgesh42.
I looked at her profile and was extremely surprised to find out she lived in my hometown.
Her e-mail read like this.
“Dear EverbestFucker20, I would very much like to exchange erotic emails with you. I’m a sexually frustrated mother and have been, ever since I caught my son’s friend squeezing. His big hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock is implanted in my mind. I am looking forward to your reply. Extremely horny, iwantDurgesh42”
I was ready to bust a nut when I read her e-mail. Almost instantaneously, I set about sending her my reply.
I wanted to make a good impression, naturally.
Thinking carefully a lot, I began to type my reply. “Dear Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, I have wanted you for such a very long time.
When you walked in on me while I was squeezing, it was you I was thinking of.
I was imagining your juicy lips wrapped around my big hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
I wanted to pull you close to me and give you all of the love you deserve.
Your Allah has blessed you with the beauty of a goddess and if ever given the chance, I would love to ravish you. I am dying to kiss your sweet lips and luscious Musalmān breasts.
I would slowly kiss my way down your body until I reached your Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān treasure box, the place from whence my friend came.
I would pay homage to it with my gentle Hindu kisses.
I would then kiss your clit until I had you moaning for my hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
When you are ready, I would place the head of my big hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock at the entrance of your inviting pussy, ever so slowly, I would descend deep inside of you. With hard deep strokes, I would thrust my hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock deep into your hot wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy over and over until our ashvinātam coupling was finally consummated.
After our lovemaking session is through, I would hold you in my arms and never let you go.
We would finally be one, together in love, forever.
I love you Al Siddīqah Al Salmān and I’m looking forward to hearing from you very soon.”
I sent my e-mail to her but I really didn’t expect a reply.
The last few times I sent emails to women who answered my ad, I never heard from them again.
I decided I would watch some porn and squeeze before I went to bed, when suddenly I saw my inbox flashing.
I opened it immediately and got the surprise of my life.
She had already answered me back.
“Dear Durgesh, my Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy is soaking wet.
Ever since I opened your e-mail, I have been masturbating.
I need to cum so bad!
What I really need though, is your big, fat, hard, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock deep inside my sopping wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
To hell with role-play, can you meet me somewhere tomorrow evening?
I have only three rules, we both must wear masks and the lights in the room must be very dim; also, you are to be totally naked and ready to please me.
If you agree with my terms, I will be excitedly waiting your reply. Love, your friend’s horny Ammī.”*
Immediately, I picked up the phone and made a reservation at the local Holiday Inn.
Once I had the reservation, I began typing.
“Of course I can meet you tomorrow evening. There is a Holiday Inn on route 64, there will be a room key left for you under the name Muħammad Yåqūb.
I will be on pins and needles until I see you tomorrow.
I am looking forward to finally giving you the love you deserve. Love, your extremely hard, Durgesh.”
I was so excited I squeezed three times before I could finally fall to sleep.
The next day seemed to go on forever.
I couldn’t wait to get off work so I could go home and get ready to meet my mysterious lover.
I had just got home from work and grabbed a juice out of the refrigerator when Al Siddīqah Al Salmān came into the kitchen.
She was practically glowing.
I told her.
“Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, what’s going on, you look absolutely stunning!”
She touched me on the arm and said.
“I don’t know, maybe, it’s because I have a date this evening.”
I smiled.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān had not been out on a date in nearly 5 years.
Not only was I stunned, I was happy too.
I immediately asked her.
“Is he somebody I know?”
“No honey, you haven’t ever met him because even I haven’t met him yet. Lubnā Imrān from work set me up on a blind date. She said I needed to get out more often.” Al Siddīqah Al Salmān answered me.
I could feel my face gleaming.
I was so happy.
I exclaimed!
“You mean to tell me, you are going out with someone you don’t even know! He could be a rapist for all you know! Are you at least going to let me meet him?!”
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān gave me a disappointed look and said emphatically!
“No, you are not going to meet him! I don’t grill you about the little floozies you date! Listen here young man, I’m a grown up woman and I can take care of myself! You are just going to have to trust my judgment!”
Before storming out of the room, I yelled out!
“That’s fine but don’t expect me to be here waiting on you to come home! I have a date myself and believe me; I plan on getting lucky tonight!”
I needed to blow off some steam so I went to my room and started working out with my weights.
I was about 15 minutes into my workout when there was a knock on the door.
It was Al Siddīqah Al Salmān and she wanted to talk.
I unlocked the door and told her to come on in.
When she sat down on my bed I began imagining holding her tight and ravishing her fantastic Musalmān body.
While my mind was focusing on all of the beautiful things I would love to do with my beautiful Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, I didn’t realize she was already talking to me.
I was brought out of my daydream when I felt Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s hand touch mine.
After she motioned for me to sit beside her, she told me.
“Durgesh, I’m sorry for raising my voice to you earlier. I know you are only concerned for my safety, but really honey, I am a big girl and your friend’s mama can take care of herself.”
“I know Al Siddīqah Al Salmān; I think my problem is I’m just a little worried. You are so beautiful that I guess I’m afraid I’ll lose you.” I explained to her.
I saw Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s eyes light up when I told her she was beautiful.
She looked into my eyes and asked.
“Do you really think I’m beautiful or are you just saying that because I’m your friend’s mother?”
Immediately, I replied.
“Of course I think you are beautiful! If I had a pick of any woman in the world to spend the rest of my life with, my pick would be you!”
I could see some small tears forming in her eyes and once again, I felt the sexual tension in the air.
Our faces were only mere inches apart when I lowered my head to kiss her.
Just before my lips touched hers, she turned her head and stammered.
“Uh, Uh, I have to go. You, you have a good time tonight and be careful. I love you, son.”
I knew I had blown my chance because she practically ran from the room.
The thing about it was, I did not want just to fuck her, I wanted to make love to her.
I made up my mind, come tomorrow morning; I was going to tell her exactly how I really felt about her.
When Al Siddīqah Al Salmān left the house, I was still worried at her because she was still going out on her date.
I didn’t really feel like going out to meet my mysterious lover so I went to the website to see if she was online, but she wasn’t there.
I knew I had to at least go to the hotel and explain myself so I took a shower, got dressed and headed to the Holiday Inn.
After I checked into the hotel, I went to the bar to have a few juices.
I was about to head up to my room when I saw Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s car pull in the parking lot.
I thought, ‘I can’t believe it, she came here to meet her fuck buddy. Fuck it; if she can fuck anybody she wants, I can too.’
I went upstairs and set about following all of my mysterious lover’s demands.
After I turned all of the lamps on low, I pulled the covers back on the bed and undressed.
I turned the television on and started searching for an X rated movie to help me get in the mood.
When I finally found one that suited me, I lay down on the bed and began to squeeze my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
I was so excited it took no time for my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock to become fully hard.
I was thinking I might go ahead before my lover arrived when there was a sudden knock on the door.
My mysterious lover was here.
I reached over to the bedside table and quickly put my mask on.
I could not see her real well in the dimly lit room but I could see enough to know she had a fine body.
Without saying a word, she undressed.
As she came closer to the bed, I started to say hello but she motioned for me to be silent.
I had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth and this time would be no different.
The first thing she did was, climb upon the bed and immediately start sucking my rock hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
She took inch by inch of my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock into her warm inviting mouth.
Once she had all of my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock inside of her mouth, she began bobbing her head up and down my fat unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock with such precision; I knew I would not be able to last long.
Each time her mouth descended on my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock she would roll my balls in her hand.
She was giving me the most glorious blowjob I had ever experienced in my young life.
I was holding on pretty well until she did something amazing, when she arrived at the head of my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock one more time, she took her tongue and tried to insert it into my piss-hole.
It was an amazing sensation and sent me over the edge.
I screamed. “Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Ooohhh my Godd, I’m Cumming Al Siddīqah Al Salmān! I’m Cumming in your mouth! Ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh nooo!”
Upon hearing me scream, she pulled her head from my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock and the first blast of cum shot straight up in the air and landed on my chest.
As I looked down to my chest I heard a shriek.
“Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Oh my God, it can’t be! Durgesh, is that you?!”*
Chapter 28
———————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Extent:16
Posted: March 30, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Fātimah Al Wahāb, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Ålī Al Wahāb, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Imrān Hāshmī, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imām Ůmar Fārūq, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Åbdullah, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Yazdānī, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Rājesh Rājpūt, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentThe extent
Chapter 16
Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn
He was still young.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb smiled to himself.
No, even Vedic Monotheist Hindus are not as ultramodern as Ǻlī Al Wahāb himself and his friends were.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thinks she is using Ǻlī Al Wahāb.
Well, let her.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was still fucking Ǻlī Al Wahāb in his utmost feminine Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Life is still stretched before Ǻlī Al Wahāb as a vast unchartered field, even its horizon lost in the distance.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb had been in Ved Nagar for ten years now.
The time had passed expediently.
Long Live Imām Muħammad Ħasan that dreamed of Ved Nagar.
The life anywhere else would have been immense problematic.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was confident they would succeed eventually ultimately.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb had faith in Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
Muħammad Ůsmān’s ass was not as feminine before as it was now.
The ten years that passed have brought a miraculous change in their bodies.
None believed Muħammad Åbdullah when he told them that Assalāt, Salwāt, converted even a masculine body into a superb female body.
“It’s an anti-Islamic propaganda from the anti Musalmīn.” Imām Ůmar Fārūq had said, “For more than thirteen hundred years of Ummat-e-Muslimah we Musalmīn offered Panjvaqtah Namāz, five times Assalāt, Salwāt, yet our masculine bodies were never converted into female bodies.”
“How do you know?” Ǻlī Al Wahāb smiled bitterly.
“What do you mean?” all the three, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, Imām Ůmar Fārūq and Muħammad Ůsmān thundered at Ǻlī Al Wahāb simultaneously.*
Ǻlī Al Wahāb was prudent enough not to indulge in a harmful discussion with Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, Imām Ůmar Fārūq and Muħammad Ůsmān ever.
He knew better.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, Imām Ůmar Fārūq and Muħammad Ůsmān were not basically females in their male bodies, but Ǻlī Al Wahāb was.
He never enjoyed his male duties to his wife, Al Fātimah Al Wahāb.
He was very glad when his wife cuckolded him.
He always thought it was his actual dream life.
He loved his third position in the Triple of his wife, Al Fātimah Al Wahāb, Durgesh and himself.
He bubbled with pride when Durgesh fucked his wife Al Fātimah Al Wahāb keeping her on his nude Hindu lap, sitting on a chair.
His wife proudly used Ǻlī Al Wahāb as her pedestal, her footrest.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb loved it.
He himself too was proud of it.
Suddenly a sound penetrated Ǻlī Al Wahāb’s consciousness.
“To hell with Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah…We oppose Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah… To hell with Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah…We oppose Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah…”
It was rather soft and distant, but it brought him back to the present.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb’s legs involuntarily swerved and brought him over the low rise to the University Field.
It was used for ashvinātam sex calisthenics, sports and student oratory.
Despite immense oppositions and demonstrations from Pseudo Musalmīn, Muħammad Åbdullah had gradually, eventually, ultimately had cooperated with Ǻlī Al Wahāb in establishing a Triple University in Ved Nagar too.
He had ultimately managed to get the permission from the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI.
In the middle of the Field was a moderate sized crowd of students.*
They were chanting enthusiastically.
On a platform was someone, Ǻlī Al Wahāb didn’t recognize.
He was someone with a loud voice and a swaying rhythm.
It wasn’t Muħammad Yazdānī however.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb had never met Muħammad Yazdānī in person.
Yet, he had seen Muħammad Yazdānī on holovision a number of times here at Ved Nagar.
Ved Nagar was really a Dream City.
It had so many scientific gadgets there the rest of the utmost ultramodern cities too couldn’t afford to have.
Ved Nagar was a city of multi-millionaires at least.
There were too many billionaires, trillionaires, and zillionaires even.
The other cities didn’t have them in so many numbers.
They said Muħammad Yazdānī might destroy what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had achieved with so nonstop tremendous efforts.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb never believed it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated.
That’s she had such a tremendous nonstop success.
An ordinary Musalmān Beauty couldn’t achieve what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated, had done.
After all, how many such accomplished Musalmān Beauties Ummat-e-Muslimah had in its entire history, entire Al Tārīkħ Al Islam?
Yet, Ǻlī Al Wahāb paid close attention to Muħammad Yazdānī whenever Muħammad Yazdānī was on holovision.
Muħammad Yazdānī was large and smiled with vicious camaraderie, vicious comradeship.
He had thick sandy hair and light blue eyes.
His father was a South African Hindu and his mother was a Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty.
This speaker was however small, if anything─ thin, wide mouthed, dark haired and loud.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb wasn’t listening to the words, though he did hear the phrase ‘power from the females to males’ and many voiced shout in response.
Fine, thought Ǻlī Al Wahāb, but just how does Muħammad Yazdānī intend to win the great Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated?
Is Muħammad Yazdānī serious?*
Ǻlī Al Wahāb was at the outskirts of the crowd now.
He looked around to find out if there was someone, he knew.
He spotted Imrān Hāshmī.
He was Ǻlī Al Wahāb’s fan.
“Imrān,” Ǻlī Al Wahāb called out.
“Sir, Ǻlī Al Wahāb,” Imrān Hāshmī stared at him for a moment and recognized him with some effort.
Imrān Hāshmī had almost never seen Ǻlī Al Wahāb not being fucked in his ass by either Shankar Mahāpralayankar or Rājesh Rājpūt.
One or two times even while Ǻlī Al Wahāb was not enjoying either Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Cock in his ass or Rājesh Rājpūt’s, he was licking his Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān Houseladies’ Musalmān Cunts while Durgesh was still fucking them or had just fucked.
Imrān Hāshmī couldn’t remember, when in the recent past he had seen Ǻlī Al Wahāb alone, in this way.
He trotted over.
“Did you come to listen to this Pseudo Musalmān?”
There was immense hatred in Imrān Hāshmī’s voice for the Pseudo Musalmīn.
Despite the strict laws of never interference in other communities’ life, in Ved Nagar, the Dream City, the Muslim denominations had never stopped it altogether.
Every now and then, they were being punished by the Ved Nagar Administration, severely, for it.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb responded even more scornfully.
“Nonsense, I didn’t come here for any purpose but to find out what the noise was. Who the hell is he?”
Imrān Hāshmī smiled cheerfully, yet somewhat astringently too.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim. He is speaking for Muħammad Yazdānī.”
“I hear that,” Ǻlī Al Wahāb said bitterly as he listened to the chant again.
It began each time Muħammad bin Qāsim made a telling point, apparently.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb kept asking,
“But who the hell is this Muħammad bin Qāsim? I don’t recognize his name. What department is he in?”
“Because he’s not a member of the Durgesh Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā Triple University, sir. Muħammad bin Qāsim is one of Imām Muħammad Yazdānī’s mujāhidīn.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb was more furious now.
The Couple bastards were always adamant to interfere with the Triples.
Why?
Did the Triples ever interfere in the life of the Couple bastards?
Never.
The Triples were always law abiding.
That’s why even Muħammad Åbdullah, the Commissioner of Police here at Ved Nagar, supported them in the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI.
The Triples were not only gays now.
They included the Bisexuals, gays, Cuckolds and Lesbians as well.
Now even the nudists and feminists were also joining the Triples.
“He isn’t a member of the Durgesh Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā University? Then who the hell has permitted him to speak here? He hasn’t any damn right to speak here without a permit. Does he have one, do you suppose, Imrān Hāshmī?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir, Kħalīfatul Musalmīn, Amīrul Mominīn.”
“Well then, let’s find out.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb started into the crowd.
Imrān Hāshmī caught his sleeve.
“Don’t start anything, Kħātimul Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn razī Allāhu tålā ånahunn.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s got goons with him.”
“Goons?”
“For rough stuff, in case anyone tries anything funny.”
“That’s the main problem with these Pseudo Musalmīn bastards.”
“I beg your pardon, Kħātimul Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn razī Allāhu tålā ånahunn.”
“The Pseudo Musalmīn bastards have never understood it’s not the reality of 1400 years ago anymore. The violence was effective only then. Not now any more. The humankind is living now in a far more advanced Multiverse.”
“That’s right.” Imrān Hāshmī chuckled, “But Kħātimul Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūnrzn is forgetting that’s why Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has succeeded on the bastards Pseudo Musalmīn and still succeeding.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb calmed down.
“That’s right. But it doesn’t mean we should keep them ignorant still now.”
“We can’t change them until and unless they don’t want to change themselves. We have Democracy here, ultimately, after all.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb didn’t pay any attention to what Imrān Hāshmī said.
He was too irritated.
There were seven young men more behind Muħammad bin Qāsim, the speaker.
They were spaced rather widely, legs apart, arms folded, scowling.*
Chapter 17
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh 