1: Of my Musalmān friends
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?”
“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.”
“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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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 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.
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.
“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.
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 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.
“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.”
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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 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.
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, 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.
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.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
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.
“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.”
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.
“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.
“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.
“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?”
“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.
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.”
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.
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.
Stop being unduly sentimental.
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?”
“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.
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?
I never thought of having sex with her.
Would she ever want to dance with me again?
She loved every moment of it.
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?
Anyone could satisfy its need.
Why Al Tawaħīd Al Islam alone?
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam said something and it caught me by surprise.
I had to ask her to repeat what she had just 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?
In my food?
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?”
“Yes darling, I don’t know what was on them but yes I remember.”
“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.”
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.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the most prominent of them.
She was practically now my present Chief Wife.
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.
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.
“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?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Utmost Ancient thorughly Updated New Order taking place
“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.
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.
“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.”
I watched Åāyeshah Siddīqah gravely.
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?”
“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,
“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?”
“Then ask me.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, can I fuck your pretty Musalmān pussy?” I smiled impishly.
“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.
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.
“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!”
“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!”
“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,
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 started fucking her fast and hard.
“You like fucking Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, Durgesh?” she looked over her shoulder at me and I smiled.
“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.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.
“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.
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.”
“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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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.
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!”
“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?”
“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!”
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
“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.
“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.”
“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?”
“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.
“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!”
“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!”
“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?”
“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.”
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.
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.
“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.
“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.”
She was absolutely correct.
‘The Muslim woman is the most helpless person in the world’.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
Coasting to a stop in front of the house, Nishikānt Joshī was surprised to see his wife’s Green Mercedes parked in the driveway.
Urmi Upādhyāý had found work as a teller in a branch office of a big downtown bank a couple of years ago.
She was a hard worker and had already received a number of pay raises.
The hours were okay. Urmi Upādhyāý only had to work half-days on Saturday, and even that only one in four weekends.
This Saturday wasn’t on her schedule, though, and today wasn’t her day off even if it had been.
Nishikānt Joshī didn’t know why Urmi Upādhyāý was home.
It concerned him because it was so out of character for her.
He walked quickly around the side of the house and in through the kitchen door.
The door hinges were well lubricated.
After all, Nishikānt Joshī was a building contractor.
It was a matter of professional pride to make sure small repairs around the house were taken care of immediately.
Everything was well maintained.
He liked things that way.
He hated squeaks, drawers that didn’t open, windows that didn’t close right…things like that drove Nishikānt Joshī crazy.
Neither the screen door nor the kitchen door itself made any perceptible noise when Nishikānt Joshī opened them.
The couple he could see through the doorway into the living room ostensibly wouldn’t have heard Nishikānt Joshī anyway.
Urmi Upādhyāý and I were too involved with each other.
Nishikānt Joshī froze in his tracks when he saw Urmi Upādhyāý and me.
He’d never contemplated seeing his wife in my arms, even kissing me.
And he’d surely never thought to see me cupping Urmi Upādhyāý’s bare right breast and working the nipple to a dark red erection with a rapidly moving thumb.
Urmi Upādhyāý was naked to the waist.
Nishikānt Joshī saw her blouse and bra draped across the couch just beyond her.
Her partial nakedness said the hand job was only a preliminary.
She brought her hand up to my chest and ground her lower body against mine.
“Was it worth the wait?” she asked seductively.
A red-hot fury engulfed Nishikānt Joshī.
He didn’t think; he couldn’t.
He could only react.
One moment he was frozen in shock.
With his next heartbeat, he was moving swiftly forward, striding purposefully through the kitchen and partway into the living room.
Planting his left foot solidly on the carpet, he brought his right one up in a tight arc that ended in my crotch.
At the last moment, I sensed something behind me…a whisper of Nishikānt Joshī’s shoes on the carpet perhaps, or his looming presence.
She probably wouldn’t have been hurt if I’d kept still.
It was only the steel-reinforced tip of the boot that slammed into Nishikānt Joshī’s butt but it was more than enough.
Sensitive nerve endings fired instantly, sending simultaneous pain signals to Nishikānt Joshī’s badly confused brain.
For a long moment Nishikānt Joshī didn’t have any breath to scream.
It had been driven from his body by the sudden intense pain in Nishikānt Joshī’s abdomen.
Nishikānt Joshī stumbled against the sofa and clung to it for an instant.
Her normally pleasant features were twisted into a rictus of tormented rage.
She’d been planning to do further damage to Nishikānt Joshī in front of me but it was abruptly clear nothing more was required.
Nishikānt Joshī began to scream in a high-pitched voice that filled the room.
He collapsed to the floor and began to writhe in agony.
The excruciating pain was overwhelming, worthy of the Marquis de Sade’s most inventive tortures.
Nishikānt Joshī was unable to do anything but scream so piercingly he was close to rupturing his vocal cord.
Nevertheless, Nishikānt Joshī saw his wife’s breasts bounce wildly on her chest as her body jerked uncontrollably.
Her lower body was exposed, though covered by her pantyhose. He could see her palms pressed tightly against her vulva.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund was still jutting obscenely, yet still immensely attractive from my zipper.
There hadn’t been enough time for the blood to leave it.
The vulgar display sickened Nishikānt Joshī but something else was wrong too.
He looked down.
To his horror, he saw the bulge in his work pants.
He realized his cock was hard, perhaps harder, longer, and thicker than it had ever been before.
A deep shame overcame the anger in his mind, blanking the fury in the space between two heartbeats.
He was mortified.
His own body was betraying him.
It wasn’t possible; he was not that kind of man.
His roars, born of renewed fury and deep humiliation, blended with the agonized shrieks of himself.
It was one thing that Urmi Upādhyāý, Nishikānt Joshī’s twenty eight years old extremely beautiful Upādhyāý Brāhmañ wife and I were prepared for Nishikānt Joshī’s every potential attack already, yet it was quite another thing that his Joshī Brāhmañ penis was appreciating what Urmi Upādhyāý was doing with me.
How the hell it happened?
Does it mean in this Infinite BrāhmKalp Nishikānt Joshī’s such intense humiliation was absolutely a normal event?
Only because Nishikānt Joshī and Urmi Upādhyāý were traditional Brāhmañs and Durgesh was a Bachhalyā?
Durgesh was already fucking now the entire beautiful Brāhmañ houseladies of Nishikānt Joshī’s household.
Nishikānt Joshī had as if fallen from sky.
“Supriyā Bhābhī, you mean… you mean…”
“Yes!” Instead of Supriyā Bhārgav, Nishikānt Joshī’s elder brother, Karuñākānt Joshī, said, “Your Supriyā Bhābhī is correct, Nishikānt. You keep forgetting, it’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now. We Brāhmañs are entrusted now to greater duties.”
“Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat?” Nishikānt Joshī asked sarcastically.
“Oh,” Karuñākānt Joshī said looking at his younger brother sympathetically, “Why?”
“Anything wrong in it?” Karuñākānt Joshī asked curtly.
“You were never satisfied with Supriyā Bhābhī.” Nishikānt Joshī said bitterly, “Her sophisticated behavior was never suitable to you. You were always interested, instead, in her ultramodern beautiful Musalmān lady friends.”*
“Who are you to discuss my married life activities and my sex activities? You are my younger brother, not my wife. Hinduism/Ved never allow any houseperson to interfere in the married life of another houseperson. It’s the only practical way to keep a joint family survive with ‘Modmānau Svastakau’, ‘Modmānau Své gr’hé’.”
“I think Imām Muħammad Ħasan is one of the greatest persons of nowadays.”
“Because he has surrendered the entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies of his household to Durgesh?” Nishikānt Joshī laughed ironically, “I never thought you have fallen to this level. I’m sorry to find you too salute the rising sun to this extent.”
“Chief Justice Vishwambhar Sharmā Supreme Court Multiverse is perhaps too a cuckold in your bright opinion, Mr. Nishikānt Joshī.” Karuñākānt Joshī also laughed equally ironically, rather more ironically.*
The environment surrounding a life form whether the life form is a male or a female always needs fresh base pairs for the survival of that life form.
To fulfill this need of the environment the life form starts to have sexual need.
The more intense the need of fresh base pairs of the environment the more intense the sexual need of the life form.
He never liked it.
They were traditional Brāhmañs.
Every traditional society has some traditions out of date it’s careless to change and update itself.
The Pseudo Musalmīn were the worst example of it.
They were too adamant to keep their outdated traditions that they refused to use their common sense even if it were against their enormously outdated traditions.
To kill the other societies for one’s own survival was a tradition among then uncivilized societies once.
The Pseudo Musalmīn were foolishly still adamant to practice it, because they never tried to understand it isn’t needed anymore.
The Democracy has not only its solution but the fair competition too to the survival of the fittest system of life.*
The Infinite BrāhmKalp had started to project its time cycle.
Despite the fact that the ever last Kaliyug itself had its time cycle unfinished for as long as 4, 27, 000 years.
I understood very well it was only a generous courtesy, not any invitation, or seduction, at all.
I was the son in law of the house.
Everyone was stunned.
“Well, I think we should talk first, Shuchi.”
“That’s a very good idea, Bahūrānī.” Pragyākānt Joshī greeted the suggestion very warm heartedly.
“I can’t help, Ammī,” Shuchi Joshī smiled naughtily, “if you were a cougar once.”
“Shuchi,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “you must be ashamed of yourself for the comment on your own Ammī.”
“It’s all right, PK.” Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ smiled bravely, “Our children have different morals from me. You knew about my ultramodern morals and you married me with them. They didn’t.”
“Nevertheless, Ůzrah,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “Even if she doesn’t appreciate your morals, being a Brahmkanyā she must respect at least Imām Nārīm Sukr’té dadhāt and Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat. She isn’t a child anymore. She is twenty eight years old and a PhD now.”
“Sure,” Shuchi Joshī said, “I never criticized Ammī for her past. Nevertheless, I would never allow her past to affect my own life adversely.”*
No, he wasn’t a bad man.
That was the problem.
Their overhumanity itself was a greatest enemy of all of them.
They were good to the extent to be harmful to themselves.
“I know, Supriyā,”
Nevertheless, he couldn’t blame the traditional Brāhmañs even.
They were also normal men.
They too wanted to enjoy their married life.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.”
“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.
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.
“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.
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.
“Yeah. Just now. You were smirking.”
“I shouldn’t be eating this,” I admitted.
“Because of your cholesterol?”
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.
Kħadījah Muħammad was only two years younger than me.
Yet she never looked more than thirty four.
“He wants to consult me?”
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
“Kħadījah Muħammad, I…”
“As if he himself doesn’t have,”
“Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā has only countless bodies.”
“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.”
“That’s what he said.”
“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.”
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.
Bachhalyās were always number one administrators consequently undisputedly.
The traditional Brāhmañs were the third.
The Muslims were the fourth.
Infinite BrāhmKalp lacked the other societies basically.
I smiled slightly.
“I thought so.”
“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,”
“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’s right. I suffered from a severe heart attack and couldn’t keep my life then.”
I eyed him sympathetically.
“My family rejected me to keep me as her Sun. She needed a better Sun, you.”
“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.
“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?”
“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.”
“I accepted that I learned my lesson in the hard way, Sir. I thought you were my friend and…”
“Well, you said I should let her suck my penis, to have anal sex with her.”
“And you couldn’t do it?”
“I understand, now.”
“It’s your reincarnation, Punarjanm?”
“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 hate every tradition if it isn’t scientific anymore, progressive and ‘Janébhyah’.”
“There are some problems when you belong to a Bachhalyā family.”
“That’s right. But I’m telling something else.”
“I am listening to your observation.”
“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.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
She never took the oath she promised her husband she would take if his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, would do the same first.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was never wrong in having faith in her husband.
I appreciated Al Faisal Al Qāsim that despite he believed his
How wrong Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was in understanding her own present society.
It wasn’t as Islamic as she thought it was.
As the other societies were, the present day Islamic Society was also a mixed society.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim was dumbfounded.
It was natural.
Who the hell could believe his own wife could betray him in such a way in front of his family?
He bravely challenged his Ammī to take the oath that Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was lying.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās had smiled in her heart on the stupidity of her foolish son.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim had inherited the same stupidity from his father?
Well, let him.
Till the Musalmīn are as stupid as Al Faisal Al Qāsim and his father, Al Qāsim Al Åbbās, are, the evershrewd beautiful Musalmān houseladies, as Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, were, could easily keep on their false respect everywhere in the so called Islamic Society.
It never investigates the truth.
It always has faith in ostensibles.
Nevertheless, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm never believed it.
And why the hell shouldn’t he?
Should he love his wife even more than he loved his Ammī?
What did Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm want?
He should believe his wife, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, despite it would be the utter degradation and immense humiliation of his Ammī despite she met his challenge bravely and his wife didn’t?
He divorced Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
He had to.
It was his promise to Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, his Ammī.
Jannat doesn’t lie below the feet of one’s wife.
It is below the feet of one’s Ammī only.
Yet, a Muslim couldn’t, and never shouldn’t sacrifice his Īmān for anything whatsoever it might be.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
She wanted to get rid of Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās was very proud of his family.
He wanted to keep it joint.
One of his brothers was still living with them.
She let him.
He and his wife both respected Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās very much.
Yet, she allowed the ever-stupid Al Farīd Al Åbbās and his wife to live with them.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās saw how shrewd her husband’s younger brother’s daughter, Al Åādilah Al Farīd Al Åbbās, was.
I obliged Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās.
Despite the fact that she wasn’t a good woman, I fucked her.
I had to improve her now.
It was a great tragedy of almost entire women that when their son reached adulthood, they were afraid of their potential daughter in law.
They could never understand they had another role in their son’s life.
It was the only way to win her husband, Al Faisal Al Qāsim, back.
“Why didn’t you do it, you foolish girl?” I asked her fucking her girlfriends one by one.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm looked at me gravely,
“I would never take any advice from you. You want to fuck me too now.”
“You stupid girl, you didn’t leave any option for your excellent husband.”
“If he were actually excellent, he would never have divorced me.”
“Had not he warned you to divorce if you wouldn’t take the oath on Al Qur’an Al Karīm?”
“Sure, but I thought Tāī Ammī would never go to the extent.”
“She is a liar.”
“Yes, but she succeeded in proving herself innocent because you retreated from your jihad against her.”
“I’m not interested in any jihad against anyone.”
“That’s the worst decision you ever took suicidal to you.” One of her closest friends, Al Busharah Arraħmān, smiled straddling me, “My mother in law did the same trick with me…”
“I know,” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm interrupted Al Busharah Arraħmān, “You took the oath yourself too.”
“Why shouldn’t have I?” Al Busharah Arraħmān took my Penis between her forefinger and thumb, positioned it between her labial lips and thrust.
My Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund vanished into her twenty eight years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely in her very first shot.
“You cuckolded your husband, Al Busharah Arraħmān,” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm said scornfully, “I’d never.”
“That’s why you are divorced, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm,” Al Busharah Arraħmān laughed fucking me vigorously, “Isn’t it better to cuckold your ever stupid Musalmān husband, instead of being divorced by him?”
“I don’t think so.” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm said curtly.
“Nothing can be done of you ever unrealistic foolishly moral Musalmān houseladies even if you are immensely beautiful.” Al Busharah Arraħmān looked gravely at her closest friend, “Your mother in law took false oath, and she has lost nothing. You foolishly didn’t take even the true oath and lost your husband forever. My mother in law took false oath that she never sent me in Durgesh’s bedroom where Durgesh was already fucking her friend, Annavīdah Al Vaqār…”
“Allah,” Al Busharah Arraħmān was dumbfounded, “Tāī Ammī sent me here to take her mobile,”
Annavīdah Al Vaqār smiled at Al Busharah Arraħmān.
She neither freezed nor was ashamed of herself even a bit.
“Take it, your Tāī Ammī deliberately left her mobile on that table.”*
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās was startled.
“Is your wife, my Ammī, is faithful to you?” Al Faisal Al Qāsim asked Al Qāsim Al Åbbās patiently, “Despite it, have you divorced her? No! My wife, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, is innocent. Yet, I’ve divorced her. Only because I’d promised to divorce her to my Ammī, your ever dominant wife on you.”
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās could never imagine his son would talk with him ever in this way.
“Never. That’s the point, instead. Ammī was enjoying very much what she was doing with you. She was humiliating you, degrading you. Yet, you have forgiven her. My wife never degraded me, never humiliated me, yet the entire family asked me to divorce her. Why?”
“Aren’t you too?”
“You doubt it, don’t you?”
“Who do you think my real father is? Durgesh himself?”
“Get out. Leave my house, at once!”
“Sure, that’s why I did what I did. I am leaving this house for ever. That’s why I paid my debt to my parents.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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, allowed him to have it for a trial year.
Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.
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?
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.
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.
The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.
They are also there.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.
She was ready to get going.
She had only one trial year.
“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”
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.
Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.
They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.
These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.
There was a running information,
“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.
Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.
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.
“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.
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
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 smiled coldly.
“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”
“Well?” I asked.
“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”
“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”
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?”
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?”
“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for 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.*
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 was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.
It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”
“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.
He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*
He never knew why.
Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.
Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.
“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.”*
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.
“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”
He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,
“Sit down, Priyavrat.”
“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?”
“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.”
He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.
“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Āmnah Azhar laughed impishly,
In Surah (56)AI-Waqi`ah the same thing has been described as Kitab-um-Maknun (the hidden and preserved Book) and in Surah (85)AI-Buruj 22 as Lauh-i Mahfuz (the Preserved Tablet), that is, the Tablet whose writing cannot be effaced, which is secure from every kind of interference.
By saying that the Qur’an is inscribed in Umm al-Kitab, attention has been drawn to an important truth.
Different Books had been revealed by Allah in different ages to different Prophets for the guidance of different nations in different languages, but aII these Books invited mankind to one and the same Faith: they regarded one and the same thing as the Truth; they presented one and the same criterion of good and evil; they propounded the same principles of morality and civilization; in short, they brought one and the same Din (Religion).
The reason was that their source and origin was the same, only words were different; they had the same meaning and theme which is inscribed in a Source Book with Allah, and whenever there was a need, He raised a Prophet and sent down the same meaning and subject-matter clothed in a particular diction according to the environment and occasion.
Had Allah willed to raise the Prophet Muhammad (upon whom be His peace) in another nation instead of the Arabs, He would have sent down the same Qur’an in the language of that nation.”’
“What do you want to say actually, Āmnah Azhar?”
“Don’t tell me that you didn’t understand.” Āmnah Azhar smiled, “I would never believe. You are too wise that no one can believe you didn’t understand.”
“And why does Allah need to keep this Source Book with him?”
“Simple, so that there could never be any alteration Allah doesn’t want in the Source Book.” Āmnah Azhar smiled triumphantly, “Stupid question. I never thought you can’t understand even such a simple necessity.”
“I see.” I smiled patiently, “So, you think Allah can save this Source Book, Alkitāb, from any unwanted alteration only if it’s with Him? As soon as it’s out of His exclusive possession, Allah is, Shanno Mitrah, never capable to keep it safe from it? You really think Allah is that much incapable, Shanno Mitrah sham Varuñah shanno bhavatvaryamā!”*
Her partner and Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had just broken up.
It wasn’t that big of a deal, but she had probably been the one Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was most ready to settle down with.
They’d been together for a year.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had thought that they were on a great track that had a promising future.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was optimistic that within the coming years there would be equal rights and at least general acceptance of their lifestyle.
However, when Al Samīnah Al Faraħ told her that she didn’t think that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was truly a “lesbian”, she took offense.
It didn’t matter that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was genuinely attracted to her, or that they had great chemistry.
In the end, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ wasn’t “real”.
Her bisexuality was a problem and it brought to an end what seemed so bright only days before.
As a result, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ ended up back home over New Year’s Day weekend.
That’s kind of how Al Samīnah Al Faraħ got into the situation that she currently found herself in.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was thinking that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ would just get some time away from the pressures of office and the break up and take a breather.
Her sisters, normally her support crew, were off enjoying their own lives in different parts of the world and were probably out working it with someone special for the big January 1.
Not Al Samīnah Al Faraħ.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ would just be home alone with me.
That’s the other part of her situation, I.
Despite being extremely loyal to the Pseudo Islam and Kashmir valley, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ loved me to death, but sometimes I was a bit over mature.
Growing up with a coop immensely full of hens, I learned almost everything about them.
Three daughters and their Ammī.
Naturally, I got quite clued in.
When Al Samīnah Al Faraħ asked to come over for the holiday, I had promised her a fun care-free time.
And I had delivered.
I managed to take her mind off her break up, her ex, and getting acclimated to a life of singleness all over again.
Course, I managed to do that by getting us both smashed.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had driven the hour from office to the house Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had grown up in and had arrived to find a sizable amount of alcoholic beverages and liquors spread out across the counter tops.
Never surrendered to me for keeping Alcohol out of their life.
Sometimes, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ thought whether Durgesh is really right.
They wanted to establish Islamic supremacy on Hindus either this way or that way.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was neither nude nor he needed to.
I was nude and serving his extremely beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Āmnah Azhar with my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund penetrating her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot profoundly.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was lying on his back on the bed.
Āmnah Azhar wasn’t alone enjoying his such services.
Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī was the everfirst that used her younger brother’s tongue for it.
Then it was Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī, their Ammī.
Then their beautiful Musalmān houseladies.
His tongue was so expert in this service now that he was more popular among needy beautiful Musalmān houseladies and their beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends as a tongue service provider than as a normal man even.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī even enjoyed our Ashvinātam sexual orgasms when our secretions naturally fell into his open mouth.
I knew their activities were not normal.
After Narendr Modi won the election 2014 and became the 15th Prime Minister of India, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s such services were so much in demand that he approached other similar minded Pseudo Musalmīn friends of him and started a regular tongue service providing commercial network.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad and Rājesh Rājpūt were approached, and they delightfully congratulated Al Nādir Al Ghāzī and his similar cuckold Musalmān friends for providing such superb services to Hindus and their Musalmān beloveds.
“It’s a totally new approach. Of course, Durgesh, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, and similar over humane Hindus would never appreciate it, but the Hindu society is not made of such ever impractical persons only.”
“Let’s get you ready,” Lākhan Singh said.
He stood in front of Shamīmah Iftikħār and expertly pulled her nightgown over her head.
Shamīmah Iftikħār couldn’t believe this was happening.
Now Shamīmah Iftikħār was breathing so hard it felt like panting.
Lākhan Singh put his hands on her ankles.
“Relax,” he said.
Then he propped her legs up on the couch so Shamīmah Iftikħār was spread wide open.
Shamīmah Iftikħār ached for release.
Shamīmah Iftikħār had already gotten herself going before, now this was something out of a fantasy.
Shamīmah Iftikħār tried to grab his head and keep it there.
He took her hand and stepped aside.
Shamīmah Iftikħār realized someone was standing there- no, five people.
The crowd outside was now in the house.
He was maybe twenty-five with a smiling, eager face.
Brown hair, average build, and naked.
Shamīmah Iftikħār stared at it.
4-5 inches long.
Her stomach felt tight, her hands shook a little.
He stroked himself for a few seconds, eyes locked on her naked skin.
Shamīmah Iftikħār saw a tiny drop of precum on the tip of its head.
Shamīmah Iftikħār closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.
This is what Shamīmah Iftikħār wanted, right?
But Shamīmah Iftikħār can’t!
Not like this.
Her breath stopped.
Shamīmah Iftikħār felt Lākhan Singh squeeze her hand again.
Well, that’s what they said was at stake!
Vīr Vikram Pratāp pushed all the way in, then slowly started fucking Shamīmah Iftikħār in a steady rhythm.
Each one felt different.
Each experience was amazing.
Rājesh Rājpūt laughed.
“We Pakistani Sunni Musalmān women love Durgesh, but we hate you, Rājesh Rājpūt! Shankar Mahāpralayankar! Sidrah Aħmad! You are crazy persons. Durgesh is of course radically different from you communal animal Hindus.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed.
“Rājesh Rājpūt, Shamīmah Iftikħār, the great Pakistani Sunni Musalmān politician loves Durgesh, the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, instead of us. Durgesh is really a miracle. Entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies want to get his Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into their Musalmān Choots without any single exception even.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī and her ever enthusiast Young Musalmān Lady Brigade is managing it all. they cunningly, shrewdly and intelligently plan to advertise the fantastic attributes of Durgesh’s Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund. I see even every beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot is crazy to get it inside her.”*
It was still dark outside when I opened my eyes.
My Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund was still buried entirely into her still miraculously tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Alas, Muħammad Naåīm couldn’t give her what I could, neither money, nor sex.
I smiled to myself as I looked at it.
It was the 3rd night of our ten-day vacation in Kashmir valley.
It was the reason Sāliħah Faisal separated herself from Muħammad Naåīm.
“It’s wrong. It’s a sin in Islam.” Muħammad Naåīm had refused Sāliħah Faisal outright.
“Well,” Sāliħah Faisal thundered, “I’m your wife, and I love it.”
Muħammad Naåīm was startled
“Isn’t my ass extraordinarily beautiful?”
“Of course, it is. Of course, it is. But it doesn’t mean…”
“What do you mean ‘Why?’? It’s wrong. It’s a sin.” Muħammad Naåīm was quite surprised.
“I hinted you before our marriage.” Sāliħah Faisal said curtly.
“You said you’d see to it.”
“That’s right, Sāliħah Faisal, but…”
“No but, you promised me. I need it.”
Muħammad Naåīm didn’t oblige her and it brought Sāliħah Faisal ultimately to me.
Still smiling, I quietly slid out of bed and went into the bathroom to relieve myself.
Turning the light back off before I opened the bathroom door into the bedroom, as not to disturb Sāliħah Faisal, I quietly grabbed my robe from the chaise at the foot of the bed and slipped it on.
Opening the door of our room, I quietly crept out and walked down the hall of our dull jheel side condo.
HVSI owned several beautiful enormous structures in Kashmir valley.
I always enjoyed this time of the day.
I enjoyed watching the sunrise before the world awoke and got its day started.
Making sure as not to make any noise and wake the kids up, I put some coffee on.
Once the kids were up our day would be nonstop.
Well, at least when the boys woke up.
My boys from Sāliħah Faisal, Devesh and Shubhesh, were 11 and 9.
Her oldest was Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
She was 19.
Once my coffee was ready, I poured myself a cup and walked to the sliding glass door that lead out to the deck.
I walked out on to the deck, quietly slid the door and closed behind me.
I pulled a chair close to the edge of the deck and sat down in it.
Promptly propping my feet up on the railing in front of me.
I inhaled deeply the aromatic aroma of my coffee before enjoying the first sip.
I was a man at peace.
I owned my own consulting firms under HVSI and it made a good living for my entire families.
My friend, Muħammad Naåīm’s wonderful extremely beautiful wife, of 22 years, Sāliħah Faisal, was a wedding consultant.
Between the two of us, our incomes afforded us opportunities I would have loved to have as a child myself.
As I reflected, I thought about our children.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was 19 and was my girl to the core.
Her own Abbū, Muħammad Naåīm, was a loser in her eyes.
She was sympathetic for him, yet he wasn’t her hero, I was.
A loser can get sympathies, but none wants to be as him.
He was ‘poor Abbū’, as far as Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was concerned.
She had graduated high school the year prior and was just completing her first year of junior college.
I was so proud of her.
No one could deny that Sāliħah Faisal’s oldest was a beauty indeed.
With her stunning looks, she had landed her first modeling gig at sixteen.
At 5’7, she had chocolate brown eyes and they were framed by long spiky lashes.
Her hair that hung just at her shoulder blades was thick and a light honey brown color.
It complemented her flawless creamy coffee complexion.
What made it worse, from a fatherly perspective, was how curvaceously shaped her body was.
Although she modeled, she was no string bean.
I had no idea her exact chest size or clothing size, but I did know that she had very full breasts, a curvy waist and an ass, that when she wore a bikini made men do double takes.
This didn’t bring comfort to me, however.
That was the baby girl they were ogling.
Nevertheless, what surprised me even more was how comfortable Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was with her body.
Not that I wanted Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter, to have a distorted body image, but she was comfortable to the point that around the house she wore things that Sāliħah Faisal would have to remind her to cover up because she had brothers.
At the shore of the jheel, it was even worse.
The back of her bikini bottom, if one could call it that did little to hide her wonderful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān assets.
I always teased her and called her double trouble because she had brains and beauty both.
I would tell her she would be a formidable match for any man.
I didn’t worry as much about Devesh and Shubhesh as I did Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
Devesh was more a rough and tumble boy, whereas Shubhesh was the more sensitive one.
I chalked that up to the fact that Shubhesh was definitely an Ammī’s boy through and through.
Sāliħah Faisal babied him almost to a fault.
That was the one area Sāliħah Faisal and I, as parents, disagreed with each other the most.
I felt that she babied Shubhesh too much and was making him too dependent on her.
Sāliħah Faisal felt that I never came to her defense where Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was concerned.
Sāliħah Faisal and Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm butted heads, the older Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm got.
That, however, doesn’t mean that they didn’t have a good mother daughter relationship, but Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm’s fiercely independent spirit definitely had its moments when it clashed with Sāliħah Faisal’s over protective mothering.
When Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm turned 18 and started being a bit less conservative, in her manner of dress, that was when they really started butting heads.
Less conservative meaning her clothes tended to accentuate that body that I was so cautious for her about.
However, I believed Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm to be an adult and she should be allowed to make her own decisions.
I was so lost in my musings that I didn’t seem to notice the time passing and the sky was just starting to lighten.
As my eyes scanned out on the shore of the jheel, I noticed someone out there.
My, I thought, someone’s out here even earlier than I am.
As my eyes focused, the person appeared to be maybe doing yoga out on the shore of the jheel.
It was hard for me to tell.
I leaned a bit forward in my chair and let my eyes focus.
It appeared to be a woman.
She was on her back with her legs tucked under her.
Her back was arched though pushing her chest high into the sky.
Her arms were stretched out beside her and her head resting on the sand.
The light in the sky was lightening up enough that I was starting to see a little clearer.
My eyes widened and my mouth gaped open as I discerned two things at once.
One, the woman wasn’t wearing a bikini top.
I could clearly see the definition of her full breasts.
Her nipples pert and pointing in the air.
But secondly, and more importantly, that woman wasn’t just any woman, it was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
I was dumbfounded.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was topless and doing yoga on the shore of the dull jheel.
As if completely oblivious to me sitting there, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm got up from the position she’d been lying in.
She stood with her back to me.
I suddenly remembered Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm doing the same thing?
I, still sitting there now saw that she was not just topless but bottomless as well.
Something in my brain told me to get up and go in the house.
However, I sat there almost paralyzed.
I’d seen Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm’s butt before, but covered a little at least with a bikini bottom.
But now, with her back to me I had a completely unobstructed view, and the view was incredible.
Her cheeks were plump and full. The kind that a man could lose my load over doing her from behind.
I felt a distinct reaction to this thought.
My face didn’t froze, in horror, as I realized looking at Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter’s ass was giving me a hard on.
It was normal for me now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Just Eighteen Just Adult and Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh movements had made my brain convinced that it was normal for me to lust and have sex with even Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān girls.
If I didn’t oblige them, they turned out to be my bitterest enemy.
While if I obliged them, they were my everbest friends instead.
“It’s a delicate medical matter to take a cherry of a Just Eighteen Just Adult girl.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan argued, “It’s better the everbest sex therapist must do it, instead of an immensely inexperienced new learner.”
I wasn’t startled to find out that their blind followers and fans immediately grabbed it as the utmost important medical necessity.
Without turning back, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm walked toward the water.
I watched as Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm walked further into the surf.
The further she walked, the more of her body was hidden as it submerged in the water.
I made my getaway into the house when I watched her dunk herself under the water.
Almost in a daze, I made my way back to Sāliħah Faisal and my room. Sāliħah Faisal was just waking up as I walked in.
She smiled at me as I came through the door.
“Hey stud,” she said suggestively, all the while smiling.
Momentarily undecided, I had to pull my thoughts together.
“Good morning sexy,” I said to Sāliħah Faisal as I crawled on to our bed.
Once I settled myself beside Sāliħah Faisal, Sāliħah Faisal pulled herself up on top of my lap and straddled me.
She ground herself against me and was pleased at the reaction she got. Little did she know, though, my reaction wasn’t necessarily due to her grinding against me.
I hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
I saw the glint in Sāliħah Faisal’s eyes and I knew what she wanted.
I made the gesture to slide my pajama bottoms down and Sāliħah Faisal raised herself up enough for me to do so.
My eyes closed and my breath inhaled as I felt my friend, Muħammad Naåīm’s wonderful extremely beautiful wife, wrap around me.
Opening my eyes, I looked at Sāliħah Faisal and put my index finger in front of my mouth in a “shhh” motion.
Whispering, Sāliħah Faisal asked, “why?”
“”We don’t need the kids to hear,” I whispered back.
“They’re asleep, they’ll never know,” Sāliħah Faisal whispered back with a bit more volume.
I furrowed my brow at her,
“No, they’re not. Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm is awake.”
Sāliħah Faisal’s eyes widened,
She loved how rigid and hard I was as she slammed herself down harder and harder upon it.
Sāliħah Faisal kept this motion up as if endlessly.
Until my eyes signaled to her that, I was about to cum.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
“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.
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, 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Gently, Al Nādirah Al Faisal raked her fingernails over my hardened sack, and that pushed me over the edge.
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.
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?”
“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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.
He hated wild animal sex basically.
It wasn’t a human act for him ever.
Yet, Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, needed it very much.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, actually never had another option.
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.
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 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.
I always fucked her as if I was a wild animal that had gone mad.
She had always to acknowledge her defeat.
She never found her Kħālājān, now thirty-three years old, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, ever winning over me.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Årab Mahā Bhārat: :
Ādi Parv 1/22: Saůūdī Årabia:
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,
“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?”
“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?”
“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?
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.”
“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.”
“What?” Shékħzādī Assalāt Ibrāhīm put both of her beautiful nude legs on my shoulders taking me between them.
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.
“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?”
I suddenly asked.
“Whom do you yourself like more? Shékħ Al Zabīr or me?”*
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.”
“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.
“Never!” Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled cunningly even then.
“Stop it, I say,”
“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.”
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.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
“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 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?”
“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.
“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.”
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,”
“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 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.”
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,”
“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,”
“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.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sat back in the green swivel chair and contemplated her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, across her favorite desk.
Her Abbū had a dream to be the Mustafa Kemal Atatürk of entire Islamic World.
But whereas Mustafa Kemal Atatürk was practical, her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was utopian more than practical.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan could not understand that the Musalmīn were never democratic practically except when Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam and Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn were alive.
Maybe Abū Sufyān had embraced Islam ultimately sincerely after the victory of Mecca.
Yet, his ‘crown prince’, his Walī Åhad, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah bin Abū Sufyān, never forgot he was the crown prince of Mecca before Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam conquered Mecca.
He was never democratic, nor as sincere to Islam as Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd, Saifullah, razī Allāhu Tålā ånahu.
Her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was almost always in a state of high enthusiasm.
He had congratulated his daughter profusely, abundantly.
She had fulfilled his dream in Saudi Arabia.
Even her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, had ignored that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had revenged her for betraying her father.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never listened to her Ammī.
Nafīsah Salmān always tried to explain to her daughter,
“Your Abbū is a bloody terrorist. He is a munāfiq, a Pseudo Musalmān. I punished him for his munāfiqat, his pseudo Īmān.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed sarcastically.
“And I punished you for your insincerity to my Abbū as his wife. I can please Durgesh more, sexually, than you can. I’ve successfully replaced you in his life.”
“Because you are thirty two years younger than Durgesh?” Nafīsah Salmān, her Ammī, had smiled cunningly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan realized once again she owed her cunningness to her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, she detested so much.
Her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, wasn’t cunning at all.
He was a utopian idealist Musalmān.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s utmost close sister.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was happy that Tawaħīd Bājī was too not less cunning than herself or their Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān.
What a great Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, had.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan could not deny her own immense Musalmān beauty was due to her Ammī’s incredible eternal Musalmān beauty.
Nafīsah Salmān knew very well how to maintain her magical magnificent figure.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had congratulated her younger sister too.
She had happily recounted the details of her airplane trip down from Ved Nagar, accompanied by the Secret Service commando who had shown at Ålīgarh Muslim University a week ago.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had reported proudly that every passenger aboard was absorbed in a newspaper or weekly magazine filled with pictures of Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had recounted the excitement of her ride in the President House limousine too, of the photographers who had surrounded her outside the Al Ajm lobby, of her rescue.
Momentarily muted by her first visit to the Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Office, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had then wanted to know everything about it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan happily led her Tawaħīd Bājī on a tour of the Presidential House, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Manzil, pointing out the historical curiosities about which Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had learned and dreamed of ever since she understood why Durgesh was so loved and so admired by even his enemies.
Even Durgesh’s enemies wanted to be what Durgesh was today.
Yet they only wanted to be Durgesh.
It was their fantasy only.
They only fantasized to be Durgesh.
They never were serious about it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was serious about it.
She studied gravely, deeply, profoundly, what Durgesh always cared for and his opponents never did, even though they were always jealous of Durgesh.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan always watched Durgesh fucking her eternally beautiful Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān.
She wanted to know what her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, lacked and Durgesh doesn’t that her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, left her Abbū for Durgesh.
She found Durgesh loved animal wild sex similarly as her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, did.
Her Abbū hated animal wild sex.
It was the first reason her eternally beautiful Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, preferred Durgesh on her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
When having sex with each other, her eternally beautiful Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, and Durgesh, both were not even human.
They were entirely unashamed beasts, surrendered to their ever wild animal lust, without caring anything else whatsoever.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan could not believe her otherwise ever sophisticated Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, was so horniest the female beast.
Durgesh was so horniest male beast.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan decided to have Durgesh for herself too.
Yes, Durgesh was thirty two years elder to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were also even far more elder than Ummil Mominīn, Ħazrat Åāyeshah Siddīqah, razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā.
She was surprised by my firm tone, but always welcomed our conversations.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, we need to talk!”
For over ten year now it was just Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, her fifty five years old Hindu friend of her husband, Durgesh, and her nineteen-year old daughter Sādiyah Raħīm.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was near forty now, a homebody, and still in pleasing shape.
Her tresses were raven black, only her hair-dresser knew for sure… Her ample bosom hadn’t sagged even a little.
Even forty years couldn’t do that.
Her skin showed no signs of age.
She could still turn heads if she wanted to.
I had not seen my friend’s wife, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, in anything form-flattering since the old man, my friend, Muħammad Raħīm, was around.
At home she always wore a bra under her frumpy, baggy sweats.
Mostly green, or on a daring day, for her, I sometimes caught a glimpse of a black strap and once even, a red bra.
Though I thought that might have been Sādiyah Raħīm’s on a laundry day.
An occasional glimpse of the beautiful Musalmān cleavage showed the wear of four decades on a full exquisite female Musalmān figure.
Her chest never revealed even some wrinkles and the natural effects of gravity on a well-endowed Musalmān woman.
Her legs were nicely muscled, as she had never been taught to drive, so biking and walking had served her well.
And either by design or comfort, she often wore very skimpy, tight shorts in her garden or for her daily runs or rides.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn sometimes got wolf-calls and whistles from bold Hindus and she could truly catch my eye when she leaned over the handle bars and peddled swiftly.
The pumping motion often made me wish that her swaying Musalmān breasts would one day spill over the top of her almost transparent bra.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn had been a middle-management secretary back in the day.
Schlepping, filing and pleasing a typical ladder-climbing idiot of a boss.
She worked overtime and through lunch, and ordered her own flowers for “appreciation day.”
After closing a big deal, the boss would escort her to a hotel lounge for a single appletini and offer a snide jab that her career would advance quicker if she spent more time under my desk than in front of it.
The crude sexual remarks elicited only a smirk.
She sometimes daydreamed that if my remarks were sincere or even clever, she would drag me into the elevator and up to one of the luxury suites on the upper floors.
She once joked that they could settle a sexual harassment suit out of court.
Her boss merely smiled, drained his glass and scanned the room for younger talent.
For the past ten years, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn had become a stay at home Ammī for her children.
She cooked, cleaned and cared for kids while nearly abandoning her own identity.
I was, beside the Mayor of Ved Nagar, a web designer and programmer.
I spent countless hours online and on porn sites to know how to make and use them positively.
I dreamed-up various positive scenarios on my laptop, with every fantasy woman from Xena to the Flying Nun.
After trolling internet spank-sites into the early morning, I would “run one off” and then hunker down for another day.
I had never been a jock.
Though my upscale, early life had afforded me rich-man privileges. I surfed the Pacific off the shore of their Malibu beach house.
I took riding lessons and belonged to a posh club.
This however was long ago.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn’s wealthy husband had left them with nothing but bills.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn won custody of a beachfront home they could not afford and platinum cards that served only as anchors.
In came the dot.com.
Boom and soon, my dexterity with a mouse came as a saving grace.
I was soon able to pay down the family debt and transfer Sādiyah Raħīm from a community college to a “big-name” Pac-10 school.
Their life was suddenly golden and the family adored me.
I was classically handsome in this “Hollywood” town.
With dark hair and warm black eyes I always got an offer or a look, every now and then.
When I sat my friend’s wife, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, down for our “talk”, I had already steeled my nerves with a little juice and had worked my diabolical scheme online for weeks.
In my mind, all my money went into this home and to Sādiyah Raħīm and Åāliyah Kamāluddīn.
I believed I could easily be on my own, living the high-life.
Instead, every day was a round-up of shopping-lists, utility bills, school work and more.
The beach-bunnies and bachelor-pad were nowhere to be found and it was time someone paid.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn,” I began, “it’s time for some changes. You and Sādiyah Raħīm have to start doing more around here.”
“Well of course Durgesh, you are the breadwinner and we would do anything to help out. What can I do for you, dear? Anything we can do to help, you just ask.” This was the only way Åāliyah Kamāluddīn knew how to answer.
She sat pleasantly on the couch, in shorts and a thin blouse.
Dark, full black locks framed her face and lay gently on her shoulders.
Her family was European Årabian and they all inherited the shiny, black hair and olive complexion.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn seldom wore makeup at home, and that only lipstick and liner to high-light her big, doey eyes.
She was content to remain invisible and anonymous.
Her hands were folded delicately in her lap, her long fingers intertwined.
Light-green shorts riding up her thighs and stretching tightly across her wide hips.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn’s tanned legs showed her toned calves and thick quads.
And her bare legs were crossed at the ankles with one canvas sandal precariously balanced on the toes of her right foot.
These Åāliyah Kamāluddīn-Durgesh talks always lifted her spirits.
She sat her teacup on the inlaid coffee table and scooted to the edge of the sofa.
She looked directly into my eyes.
It was good to see me taking charge of a situation and she was pleased to see me assert myself more.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn had taken on the role of the facilitator and always tried to ease family friction.
No sense beating around the bush.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, frankly I’m horny. I’m not getting enough sex in this home, and I want to make some changes, here.”
She was surprised at that, naturally.
And coming from her husband’s ever best friend, even if I was the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
She wasn’t sure what I was trying to say.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn,” I tried again, “I’m going to change the dynamics here.”
She was thoroughly confused, shifting her position, and taking on a look of concern.
She tried her best to discern my intent.
“Do you mean you need more privacy, or that you want to have more beautiful Musalmān girlfriends over? Would you like us to stay out of the way on certain nights? You want to have sex. That’s fine, you’re a Hindu, I understand.”
This just tended to infuriate me.
And now anger was increasing moreover.
“Yes, sex, that’s it. In this house. And whenever I want it. And it starts tonight!”
My face reddening as I rose and paced the room ominously.
My ego grew with each repressed desire.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was flustered and not quite comprehending.
“Durgesh, it’s late, Sādiyah Raħīm’s staying with a friend and I can make myself scarce. Let me gather a few things and I’ll ride over to my friend, Lailā’s.”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn rose to leave and as she tried to pass, I grabbed her wrist and said,
“You don’t get it, do you? I want sex. I want it, now. And I want it from you.” I blurted it out and liked the way it sounded.
Then I roughly pulled her back onto the couch.
She was just catching up with my last words, ..
“I want it from you.”
Her beautiful dark, brown eyes grew wide. “Durgesh, are you crazy? I’m your friend’s wife, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, your Bhābhījān!”
Beads of sweat appeared at her temples and her heart-rate soared.
I sat on top of her to plant her in her place.
Her head started thrashing wildly, her ebon locks clinging to her face and loose strands flying in all directions.
Her strong gams kicked at me as her sandals flew across the living room.
Her grunts of exertion were working like a tonic on my conception of things and she felt my Hindu manhood begin to swell.
The thrill of the hunt was always better than the trophy!
I pushed her sweaty, disheveled excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body into the cushions and figured my next move.
It was now or never and I had already gone too far to stop.
Her protests increased verbally and physically as her resistance started.
Allah, Allah, Nooooooooooooooo!
Yes, she had lost her mind while flirting with Durgesh.
But not sex!
She teased Durgesh, seduced Durgesh, but it was only a tease.
She wasn’t prepared even to have sex with the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
She shrieked in my face and tried to heave me off her.
I was sitting on her belly, my left hand clasping both her wrists and my right hand violently yanking her shorts down her legs.
“You grab my Uncut Hindu Penis every now and then, don’t you? You play with it and suck it every night when you think it’s safe and I’m sound asleep. You even undress me yourself then, undress yourself too, straddle me and fuck me almost entire night. Don’t you?”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was dumbfounded.
“You, you were never asleep? You, you were always wide-awake?”
“What do you think? Aren’t you one of the utmost beautiful Musalmān wives my Musalmān friends have and always crazy for me? You are already enjoying the ultimate pleasure with me, while I always suppress my feelings for you.”
“I, I’m sorry. I was fed up, frustrated actually.”
“What the hell do you mean, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn?”
“I needed such videos to show to my husband.”
I was startled.
“He always refuses me to straddle him. He doesn’t have sex with me properly. I boasted to him that even you let me straddle yourself. He didn’t believe and laughed at me.”
“Your ever righteous Musalmān friend challenged me to make our videos and show them to him, if you really allow me to straddle you.”
“And you did it? Are you crazy?”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn blazed at me suddenly,
“Shut up, you damn fool. Every Musalmān houselady that’s beautiful, is crazy for youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! Not me aloneeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”*
I watched her incredulously.
“So, you prepared our videos yourself and gave him?”
“It wasn’t necessary.” Åāliyah Kamāluddīn said disinterested, “I only had to agree. He himself made entire arrangements.”
“And do you know what he is doing with those videos of us? He is using them to make our adult movies. You are now a wonderful, one of the utmost successful porn stars, with me.”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn wasn’t startled.
She wasn’t dumbfounded.
Instead, she smiled cunningly.
“And my husband himself is doing it?”
“That’s what I wanted.” Åāliyah Kamāluddīn smiled triumphantly.
“I told him he is a pimp, not any sophisticated person. And now he himself has proved it.”
“Are you crazy? He is selling our porn videos.”
“He isn’t alone,”
“What do you mean?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has made Pseudo Musalmīn either to surrender to their cuckolding to their beautiful Musalmān womankind and you, or leave Modern Democratic Årabia and live the vagabond life of a refugee.”
“That’s the exact punishment the terrorists, criminal and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn deserve. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has decided even not let them unite anywhere. Their unity has always proved harmful to humanity.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is right, but…”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn mused.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always right.”
“Not always.” I said disapprovingly, “No one is always right except Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Allah, God. Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, you are a Musalmān lady. You can’t appreciate anyone beyond a limit. Alhamdulillah. Y’ ék ittamu sŧuhi. Mā chidanyasvishansat sakhāyo mā rishañyat.”*
Damn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan!
She has spread so many white lies about my unique legendary sexual prowess that almost entire Musalmān houseladies believed if they hadn’t have sex with me ever, they haven’t enjoyed even their life optimum as a woman.
My Uncut Hindu Penis wasn’t the biggest one, neither the monster as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever cunning, ever shrewdest, ever smart, ever preplanned untrue Young Musalmān lady Brigade spread the white lie everywhere.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I gritted my teeth, “Stop spreading white lies about my ever incredible unique legendary sexual prowess.”
“Am I harming you, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cooed straddling me aggressively as usual.
“Not me, and don’t try to bribe me by straddling me aggressively every when I want to talk with you on some grave matter.”
“It’s bribery?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked into my eyes seductively, “It isn’t my ever exclusive wifely love for my ever sexiest Hindu husband?”
“Why do you and your ever obedient Young Musalmān lady Brigade spread white lies about my Uncut Hindu Penis? You and your entire Young Musalmān lady Brigade know with your own constant experiences that I don’t have the biggest penis…”
“Who the hell is interested in the damn biggest penis? They want only to experience the thrill of having sex with the utmost sexiest Hindu.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,”
“A large number of them want to have only the ultimate intimacy with you, to feel the pride of it their entire life. They damn care about the truthfulness of the fantastic stories we spread of your ever miraculous sexual prowess. They live in dreams. They want to keep living in dreams. They never want to come out of it. That’s the tragedy of not only us womankind, but of us entire humankind as well.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is right, Durgesh.” Imāmzādi Ħumayrah Qāzī smiled gravely at me.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.
“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.”
“Yes, that’s what I am. An Ammī. An Ammī of six children, the eldest being eighteen. Not a beautiful woman anymore.”
“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.”
“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.
He is himself erect for her.
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?
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.”
“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.
Now Al Taqaddus Al Zohrah was 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.”
“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.”
“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.”
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 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.”
“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.
“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?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!”
“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.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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.
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?”
“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.
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.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Midterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
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?”
“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.”
“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 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.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Midterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb controlled himself.
“I’ve got to know whether or not Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was here talking with you.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb’s impatience dropped from my calm manner as easily as butter slips from a hot knife.
“Let’s not have any misunderstanding. Do you know Miss Al Hilāl Al Tayyab personally?”
“Of course I do. What do you think I’m worried about a person whom I don’t know personally even?”
“Yet she doesn’t want you to know of her whereabouts?” I smiled sarcastically.
“Mr. Durgesh, I can’t allow her to destroy herself.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb remained standing by the window.
His face showed that he was laboring under a great strain.
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said he was himself a millionaire therefore he wasn’t interested in her multi millions.
“You can’t talk that way to me.” He said.
“I have already talked that way to you, Mr. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb.” I said sweetly.
“Nevertheless, you can’t do it.”
“It would be all right to talk that way to a stranger, Mr. Durgesh, but I’m not a stranger to Al Hilāl Al Tayyab. I’m close to her. You don’t know she was ready to marry Muħammad the gay.”
“That’s right. He is already married. Yet, Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wanted to marry him only because she wanted to cuckold him. I offered myself to her.”
I was dumbfounded.
“To be cuckolded?”
“To be cuckolded.”
“You love her that much?”
“I love her more than my life.”
“Don’t you know Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is an ardent utmost active member of Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?”
“Her Abbū, Al Tayyab Al Muħammad, was an ardent follower of Imām Muħammad Ħasan.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan does not want to cuckold anyone.” I said curtly, “He is a great man. He established Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs with the help of ever anti Hindu Westerners.”
“Every Westerner isn’t anti Hindu.” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb contradicted me immediately with blunt response.
I smiled patiently.
“I never said that. Did I?”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb watched me scrutinizing.
He didn’t say anything.
“The trouble with you, Mr. Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, is that you are too much full of prejudices against me to understand why Imām Muħammad Ħasan is with me.”
“I…I’m sorry,” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb said feeling himself shameful somewhat.
“You are an educated man, I think.”
“I’m a M. D.”
“Doctor of Medicine?”
“Yes, Muħammad is my friend. I wanted to cure him.”
“He doesn’t want to be cured.”
“Yes, I know, now.”
“He has self-hypnotized himself so much that he is developing now female sex organ even.”
“Allah, and Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wanted to marry him?” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was crestfallen, “Alħamdulillāh that I decided to save her at the right time.”
“She would use you as a footrest while I fuck her.” I exploded my bombshell, “You can’t bear such a degradation ever. Can you?”*
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb smiled sadly.
“I can even die for her. She is already using me as her footrest, although you are not fucking her then.”
I could not speak anything for a minute.
Then I said.
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb, do you really think you love her?”
“Let me go to hell,” Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb kept smiling miserably, “what do you yourself think? What is it if not my love for her?”
“Isn’t it a fact that your wife, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, has separated from you? Isn’t it a fact that she has charged you that you can’t father a child?”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was stunned.
“So she told you that?”
“You still have more faith in your wife, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, than you have faith in Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.” I smiled cunningly.
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb said curtly,
“Nonsense. Al Navīdah Al Ghaus has already separated from me. She would never come to me.”
“Yet you still think Al Navīdah Al Ghaus would never betray you, only Al Hilāl Al Tayyab can.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb was wide eyed.
His mouth was agape with immensely incredible surprise.
“You mean… you mean Al Navīdah Al Ghaus has already joined your Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire? Allah, why the hell didn’t I ever think it? Allah! Allah!”
He fell on a chair as if he had lost his everything to me.
It was more than obvious that he still loved his already separated wife, Al Navīdah Al Ghaus, more.
His claim that he loved Al Hilāl Al Tayyab more was doubtful.
And Al Hilāl Al Tayyab wanted to marry him if even her inheritance of more than a hundred million dollars was on stake.
What wrong Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was doing if she is controlling everything on her behalf?
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb didn’t deserve the sacrifice Al Hilāl Al Tayyab was prepared to do for him.*
For as long as Al Hilāl Al Tayyab could remember Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had always been a domineering ‘bitch’.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab seemed to derive enjoyment from humiliating people even members of her own family.
She hated Pseudo Musalmīn very much.
“They killed Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Imām Muħammad Ħusayn at Karbalā, killing the entire Islamic Movement of Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. The bastards must be cuckolded to Vedic Monotheist Hindus and us. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is absolutely right.”
Al Tayyab Al Muħammad smiled gravely at his youngest sister.
He never approved of her marriage with Al Zahīr Al Muħammad.
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad got the brunt of her acidic tongue any time she went ballistic and I felt sorry for him anytime I saw him reduced to a shivering wreck after being berated for misdemeanors as frivolous as not putting his coffee mug in the kitchen sink after breakfast.
It wasn’t that Al Zahīr Al Muħammad was a weakling.
It was just that he was totally incapable of exhibiting any form of violence both verbal and physical to anyone, especially women.
He was over sophisticated, suffering for it.
He could not understand Al Jalāl Al Tayyab actually hated him for his over sophistication even in sex.
He preferred to ‘act matured’ any time Al Jalāl Al Tayyab opened her pretty mouth and rained abuses on him.
Personally, I could understand why he wouldn’t break his superhero No Kill rule and just knock her out.
Even that would not shut her up real fast.
She was a billionaire.
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad needed her money even for his own survival and the survival of his entire idle family always devoted to Islamic activities only.*
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb looked at me.
His eyes were begging me to answer him.
“Is Al Navīdah Al Ghaus too having your ever famous ever omnipotent Uncut Hindu Lund into her ever beautiful young Musalmān Choot already?”
“Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb,” I advised him gravely, “be a man.”
“What do you mean?”
“Al Navīdah Al Ghaus was once your wife, not now anymore. She has separated from you herself. It doesn’t make any difference on what grounds. The cold and hard fact now is that Al Navīdah Al Ghaus doesn’t want to live with you anymore as your wife. Forget her. You have already decided to marry with Al Hilāl Al Tayyab, despite the fact that you know Al Hilāl Al Tayyab is obsessed with my Uncut Hindu Lund.”
Al Bilāl Al Ħabīb laughed ironically.
“There isn’t any woman now anywhere in the entire infinite åālmīn, entire infinite creations, entire infinite realities that doesn’t want to enjoy sex with you. Your De facto Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, has successfully spread too many white lies about your ever incredible sexual prowess. Even the ever dominant Al Jalāl Al Tayyab Buā surrendered to you despite the fact that Al Zahīr Al Muħammad uncle was never incompetent in any way.”*
Al Hilāl Al Tayyab’s 38 year old Buā, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, was smoking hot and that’s putting it mildly.
That’s what made her so annoying to Al Hilāl Al Tayyab.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was tall, almost six feet and built like an Olympic gymnast despite being the mother of 5 equally beautiful daughters.
Anyone can actually see her muscles rippling anytime she had a workout at the gym at home, especially her legs which went on like forever and were sculptured to physical perfection.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was deeply tanned with long jet black hair that stretched all the way to her waist.
Her eyes were deep and shockingly blue with an intensity that could incinerate anyone born of woman who dared try to stare her down.
Most times, people avoided looking at her eyes and either looked tamely at her luscious full red lips or went further South to rest on her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts with nipples harder and sharper than a pair of coffin nails.
But her greatest asset or should I say ass-et was her robust Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
It was a perfectly sculptured heart-shaped pair of Musalmān buttocks that stood out at right angles from her back and flared out at the hips.
In fact I don’t know why Al Jalāl Al Tayyab still worked as an utmost successful businesswoman, probably to get a kick from berating her subordinates at meetings, instead of becoming an ass model.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass was the stuff of dreams for jeans designers.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab knew she had a great perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and made sure others knew it as well.
When she was home, she walked around the house in a half-top and the briefest of panties not giving a hoot if I, her five young daughters or even Al Zahīr Al Muħammad were around.
She didn’t even put on a robe if Al Zahīr Al Muħammad’s friends came around to visit.
No wonder they came around a lot.
I didn’t blame them.
As for a strapping 40 year old male then, like me, it was a running battle to keep my Hindu eyes off her as well.
I was the only one who wasn’t intimidated by Al Jalāl Al Tayyab. Whenever she yelled at me I would grin insolently at her, matching her eye for eye.
I wouldn’t insult her― I would never do that, but the expressions on my face, whenever she picked me out for a fight, ranged from boredom to a slight disinterest which infuriated her.
She tried to hit me once― I caught her wrist before her palm connected with my cheek and told her not to hurt herself.
Naturally she went bonkers.
Probably why Al Jalāl Al Tayyab took extra effort to get under my skin was because there was an undeniable sexual tension between us.
I had caught her several times staring at me when I was using the gym.
I was also an exhibitionist, two can play that game anyway, and walked around the house mostly in my boxers.
I’ve got a great Hindu male body that I worked very hard for, maintaining my Stavans and my ever indomitable positive thinking, and I was proud of it.
Even Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s young daughters liked to tease me about it while Al Jalāl Al Tayyab would glare heatedly at me.
I knew one day the situation would get to a head and the two of us would have to do something about each other.
I couldn’t wait.
Well, the day of reckoning came sooner than I thought.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s family wanted to travel to their hometown to see Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s in laws for the weekend.
I couldn’t go because I hadn’t been ‘feeling well’ for the past couple of days and was in no condition to travel; Al Jalāl Al Tayyab didn’t want to go because she just didn’t want to.
Al Zahīr Al Muħammad and his daughters were not complaining: a weekend without Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was a gift from heaven and they only paused for a brief second to sympathize with me.
It was going to be especially tense since we had only recently had a terrific row in which we both lost our cool and I uncharacteristically yelled at the top of my voice.
I smiled as they joked about the fight while Al Jalāl Al Tayyab gave me a curious look.
It was going to be a hell of a weekend.
It was very likely we would kill each other.
Around six in the evening they bundled into Al Zahīr Al Muħammad’s beat up SUV and took off after the customary heart felt farewells which consisted of his very shapely young daughters giving me long hugs and even longer kisses and Al Zahīr Al Muħammad shaking my hand.
They all kissed Al Jalāl Al Tayyab tentatively on the cheek while she remained cold and aloof.
I waved at the retreating car as Al Jalāl Al Tayyab swung on her heels and entered the house.
Mr. Jalāluddīn, their elderly next door neighbor, happened to be in his front yard.
I caught him staring at Al Jalāl Al Tayyab’s behind with his mouth agape.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was wearing a pair of pale-blue denim bum shorts and a black tank top.
She was really looking excellent.
He saw me watching him with an amused smile and went beet red.
I winked at him.
I knew he was jealous of me.
He even suspected that Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had an extramarital affair with me.
It was natural therefore for him to be jealous of me.
His houseladies were already having romantic affairs with me, he suspected to be sexual too.
I immediately went upstairs to lie down.
I was still feeling excited and my heart was thumping so fast from excitement.
I lay staring at the ceiling until Al Jalāl Al Tayyab walked in without knocking.
She did this all the time and I found it extremely relishing.
It was only by fleetness of foot that she hadn’t caught me with my pants down in a corner or in bed doing the customary fucking my other Musalmān women whenever the need was.
I couldn’t lock the door.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab would become suspicious that I was fucking her young daughters too.
She leaned against the door jamb and eyed me.
I stared back at her.
I thought she really looked good the way she cocked her head to one side and observed me.
She looked like one of those femme fatales from Hollywood gangster flicks of the 30s.
“How are you feeling?” she asked at last.
“I think I am feverish somewhat.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know.”
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab shrugged her shoulders impatiently and paused before moving towards me.
I knew Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was weighing acting as a concerned friend or as a complete bitch.
She decided to go against type and check me for a temperature.
She leaned over me as her hand snaked under my t-shirt to feel my chest and my neck.
I could clearly see down her neckline and I got an eyeful of her perky Musalmān tits.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had a black bra on so I couldn’t see her nipples even though they stretched the flimsy material considerably.
I smiled confidently and she mistook it for me feeling some pain or discomfort from her prying hands.
“What is it? Are you okay?” she asked, unable to fully mask the concern in her voice.
“I am fine. Just feeling a bit dizzy that’s all.”
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab sighed and straightened up.
“Come down stairs and let me get you something to drink.”
“I am fine.”
“Come down stairs now,” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab said as she left.
“Yes, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab,” I smiled smirking somewhat.
I still spent about a full minute before I sauntered downstairs and ambled into the kitchen.
What I saw next stopped me dead in my tracks.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was bent over the open freezer trying to bring something out.
Her plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass was facing me directly and it was as big and as beautiful as a full moon on a black night.
The bum shorts had all but disappeared into the deep cleft between her excellent Musalmān buttocks and the white globes sneered at me.
I was so taken aback that I didn’t move for a couple of seconds.
I coughed and moved into the kitchen.
“Sorry, Durgesh, I was getting some ice cream,” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab said over her shoulder, “Are you strong enough? Come and help me out.”
“Sure, no problem.”
I walked over to the freezer.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab straightened up and stood aside.
I bent down and fished out the buckets of ice cream at the bottom of the freezer.
I felt her eyes watching me.
I brought out the buckets and handed them to her.
“Thank you,” Al Jalāl Al Tayyab said as she glanced down at my shorts “Go watch TV. I’ll bring you something to drink.”
I did as I was requested and decided to watch a DVD.
I picked out Basic Instinct and laid back to watch.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab came in later and handed me a cup of juice.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was holding a bucket of ice cream which she evidently had plans of indulging herself with.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab sat on a sofa near me and asked me what I was watching.
The movie was still in the beginning credits and the infamous sex-murder scene hadn’t started yet.
“Basic Instinct,” I said, waiting for her to object vehemently.
We never watched anything steamier than a Brazilian soap opera when Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was around.
I looked at her in disbelief.
“You haven’t watched Basic Instinct?”
“It stars Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone and it’s a classic. Well to me it is.”
The sex scene started and we lapsed into silence.
I tried to keep a straight face as I wondered what Al Jalāl Al Tayyab‘s reaction would be.
I stole a glance at her and noticed Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was watching the movie with rapt attention.
The movie ended.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab stood up and said she was going to take a bath.
I told her that I was going to still watch some more DVDs.
I had deliberately played the last movie to gauge her reaction and so far Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had remained unperturbed.
I was getting slightly cunning.
I was getting hornier by the minute and I wanted to make her hot and bothered.
So far it wasn’t working.
I was watching Wild Things when she came downstairs again.
When I saw her my heart rate rapidly increased.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was wearing a flimsy black nightie that stopped at mid-thigh.
I had never seen her wear anything so blatantly provocative before.
By the way her body moved underneath, I knew Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wasn’t wearing anything else.
Immediately I felt hard and I quickly crossed my legs to cover my tenting shorts.
She flopped belly down on the couch, her cheerful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass skywards.
She cocked her head to one side to watch the tally using her forearms as a pillow.
I could see under the hem of her nightie at her bare Musalmān bum.
Naturally I lost interest in the movie I was watching.
I shifted my body slightly on the sofa so I could face her while still pretending to be watching the TV.
Her legs were slightly apart and I could see her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass crack, all the way down to her pubic mound and the thick black thicket around it.
Didn’t she know Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was exposing herself, I thought?
“Would you mind to get me a glass of water?”
“Certainly not, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.”
I reluctantly stood up and went to the kitchen.
As I walked back with the glass I decided that if Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was going to act slutty then why the hell couldn’t I?
I walked over to her and gave her the glass.
By then my Uncut Hindu Lund was at half-mast and I let it tent my shorts.
She took the glass from me and her eyes rested on my Hindu bulge.
I noticed the surprised look in her eyes even though she didn’t say anything.
She drank slowly while she glanced furtively at my shorts.
I pretended as if nothing was happening.
She gave me back the glass and I took it back to the kitchen.
By the time I came back Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had reverted to her former position on the couch.
This time when I sat down, I noticed that her legs had spread further apart and that the hem was resting higher on her excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Half her pink plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks were fully exposed and her entire pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was visible to me.
I nearly exploded at the sight.
I glanced at her face and saw that her eyes were closed.
Was Al Jalāl Al Tayyab sleeping?
I didn’t think so.
Although I knew her to be a deep sleeper I didn’t think Al Jalāl Al Tayyab would drop off so easily.
For the next 10 minutes, I continued to stare at her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, while my Hindu hard on raged.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to bear it for long and I bloody well couldn’t go to sleep myself.
Wild Things finished and the next DVD started playing.
This time it was an all-out porn movie.
The moans and screams didn’t even make Al Jalāl Al Tayyab stir, as I heard her snoring softly.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I was going to do something, now or never.
I stood up and padded softly over to her.
Her eyes were still closed as I paused for what seemed an eternity before going down on my knees.
Slowly, without taking my eyes off her face I placed my Hindu hand on her smooth, white Musalmān bum.
Wow! It felt great.
I expected her to react as if electrocuted but her eyes remained closed.
I removed my hand for a while, then placed it on the other perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheek.
No response from Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
Slowly and very gently, I began to massage it.
She mumbled in her sleep and I went to my sofa.
However after a couple of minutes I came back.
I boldly put my Uncut Hindu Lund in her crack and traced the length of it, lingering a while on her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab didn’t move.
I badly wanted to spread her cheeks and see her pink Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass hole.
I did bring my face close to her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass crack and gently placed my lips on her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
The smell, the taste was simply out of this world.
I noticed that Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was quite damp.
I wondered whether Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was still asleep.
I was breathing deeply and I knew I had to go further, otherwise I would go crazy.
I decided to throw caution to the wind.
Placing both my hands on her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheeks I gently and expertly kneaded those massive Musalmān globes.
They felt wonderful and I was amazed at how soft and firm they were.
It wasn’t long before she began to whimper and grunt while her hips startled to wiggle.
I kept on massaging her, my Uncut Hindu Lund prying the cheeks open. Her legs spread wider and I noticed her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was soaking wet.
However she kept her eyes closed.
I spread her pink plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks wide open.
She gasped and her hips lurched.
I began to kiss it.
I traced my Uncut Hindu Lund down her Musalmān crack and inserted it into her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She gasped as I felt her Musalmān juices around my Uncut Hindu Lund. By now her hips were gyrating like mad and Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was moaning and groaning.
I straightened up but remained on my knees and grabbing her waist I turned her around till her knees came off the couch and landed on the floor.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab still tried to maintain the farce that Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was still asleep and kept her face in the cushions as her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass tilted up to face me.
I spread her legs and pushed the hem of her nightie completely over her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
There was nothing else on this earth that was more alluring than what was before me.
Holding my Uncut Hindu Lund, I guided the fat head to the small pucker of her sopping wet female Musalmān bum hole.
When I placed my dickhead on her flesh she gave a sharp squeal of protest and tried to retreat, but I grabbed her slim waist and slowly but firmly pushed it in.
She cried out painfully and I nearly passed out in pleasure.
It took some pressure but I soon got my Uncut Hindu Prick all the way into her chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab had no alternative now except to speak at last.
“No, Durgesh! Stop!” she pleaded, but I was way past listening to her.
Slowly I began to pump her and soon enough I increased the tempo.
By now, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was begging and screaming.
Her hips bucked and wiggled as I pumped her rigorously and I leaned forward to slip my hands under her nightie and fondle her perky Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts.
Her nipples were stiff and erect.
I pulled and pinched them viciously.
“Durgesh… no… fuck…please stop… oh fuck… no!” she breathed as I humped her like a madman.
Nevertheless, her gyrating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks moved in tempo with my wild animal Hindu thrusts.
The porno stars moaned in the background.
We didn’t care.
I suddenly pulled out and she moaned in protest.
But I was merely re-inserting it in her pink excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I wasn’t greedy.
I wanted her to really enjoy it as well.
Naturally this was easier and the only sounds you could hear were my male Hindu thighs slapping against her smooth Musalmān bum.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was sobbing now.
“Durgesh, Baby… fuck me harder, darling… please don’t stop! Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wants to come on your ever infamous Uncut Hindu Lund!”
I didn’t reply.
All I did was grunt and groan.
Finally I felt her stiffen and she began to shudder.
Not long after I came violently and I didn’t even bother to withdraw.
We knelt like that for a long time while we panted and wheezed.
I withdrew and stood up.
I stood there uncertainly until Al Jalāl Al Tayyab got up and sat down.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab wouldn’t look at me and a rush of guilt overwhelmed her.
At last she raised her eyes.
They were wet and I had never seen her looked so depressed in my life. All her ice had melted away.
“What have we done?” she asked quietly, as if to herself.
I now knew what I must do.
This was a despicable act to her we committed but I was going to use it for at least some sort of good.
“Nothing happened, Al Jalāl Al Tayyab, and no one will ever know what happened if you do as I say.”
“What?” I detected a trace of hope in her voice and I smiled in triumph. All her guilt had washed away I was in control now.
“You are going to stop being a bitch from now on,” I said in a cool, firm voice, “You will be a good, humble ‘wife’ to me and you will be a loving mother to your daughters … Understood?”
“Yes,” she replied in a flat voice.
“Say yes sir.”
“Now run along and get me something to eat. I was feeling really hungry…”
When the rest of the family came back on Sunday they were shocked over the change in Al Jalāl Al Tayyab.
Al Jalāl Al Tayyab was suddenly nice and sweet and eager to please.
They wondered whether we had fought and I had won.
Well, in a way…
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Midterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
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.
‘Imām nārīm sukr’té dadhāt.”
‘Bear this woman to a man that does good deeds.’
‘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.
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.
“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.”
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.”
“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.”
“There’s a lot of money coming to me under that will, something over a hundred million dollars.”
“I need your support,”
“Abbū didn’t leave the money to me outright,” Al Hilāl Al Tayyab said, “He left it in a trust.”
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.
“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.”
“That’s right. Yet, he has a cut Musalmān nūnī.”
“The entire medical specialists say Muħammad, my husband, can never make love to a woman.”
“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. Saiya