Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh
“Durgesh…what are you doing?” Assalāt Al Fajir asked her Ammī’s Hindu Live in Relationship Partner, Durgesh.
“I’m no longer sleeping with your Ammī. This is going to be my new home…at least for now. I’m sorry you had to see this sweetie, but I’m out of patience with the current situation. Now I’m going in here and just want to be alone for a while ok Assalāt Al Fajir.” I said to Al Jihad Al Islam’s immensely beautiful young sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter as I walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Assalāt Al Fajir closed the door behind her and looked at Asshams Al Islam, who was now sitting up in bed.
“I know…I heard. I guess Ammī got her wish, that Durgesh move out, which it sounded as if I might soon.” Asshams Al Islam said shaking her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head. “Allah, I hate that Over Musalmān bitch, why does she have to do this to Durgesh…to all of us?” Asshams Al Islam said, and looked like she was about to cry again.
Assalāt Al Fajir knew how she felt, but she wasn’t sad enough to cry.
She was thinking and the gears were turning inside her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head.
“You know Asshams Al Islam…with Durgesh sleeping in the room down the hall, instead of with Ammī…She would never know if Durgesh was to do anything while in there.” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister, but Asshams Al Islam gave her a confused look.
“I don’t understand, Assalāt Al Fajir.” Asshams Al Islam said as she cleared the tears away.
Assalāt Al Fajir sat on the bed next to her.
“I mean…that if Durgesh was having sex with someone…Ammī would never know. Even if Durgesh is having sex…with us!” Assalāt Al Fajir said spelling it out for her sister.
Asshams Al Islam’s eyes got wider and so did her smile.
“You think we could pull it off…would I go for it you think?” Asshams Al Islam asked her sister, and Assalāt Al Fajir now thought it interesting that Asshams Al Islam was asking her advice on sex.
“Well, Durgesh hasn’t been getting a lot from Ammī it seems…and as you sort of said in the kitchen, Durgesh does spend a LOT of time in his study. I bet it can’t all be work. I bet he… fucks our Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Musalmān girlfriends or Ammī’s, every night in there.” Assalāt Al Fajir said, still not used to saying naughty words, but she was getting practice in.
Asshams Al Islam grinned at her sister, and hugged her.
“Maybe we can come up with a plan…to seduce Durgesh. And Ammī will never know. And if Durgesh does move out…we’ll go with Durgesh, of course. I wouldn’t want to live with that bitch.” Asshams Al Islam said as she pulled from the hug.
Assalāt Al Fajir gave her sister a strange look.
She had liked her sister’s contact.
“Yes, we’ll go with Durgesh…but I still wish you wouldn’t call Ammī ‘bitch’. She’s still our Ammī…and I do still love her. Like Durgesh, I still hope she’ll come back to us one day.” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister.
“Ok Assalāt Al Fajir, I’ll try…but from here on we have a goal…to get Durgesh to have sex with us. Now all we need is a plan.” Asshams Al Islam said, as she stood up, excited that maybe…soon, she would get the man she had loved for so long.
Assalāt Al Fajir watched her sister, and felt her excitement, for her Ammī’s Hindu Live in Relationship Partner, Durgesh…and for Asshams Al Islam.
A plan was forming in her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head that might get her both of them.
“Yeah a plan….I might just have one, Asshams Al Islam….I might just have one.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she looked at the door to the hallway. “But as Ammī would say, have faith, Asshams Al Islam…in the end, we’ll get what we want….in the end.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she smiled at Asshams Al Islam.*
Al Jihad Al Islam stood in the kitchen finishing up the cleaning, the tears having stopped a little while ago.
She couldn’t understand why her family didn’t want her to embrace Islam fully.
They didn’t understand that I had saved her from walking down a path of sex and sin.
Why couldn’t they see she tried to live according to Islam, and that she needed me in her life.
But Al Jihad Al Islam also knew she needed me and her girls.
She was doing it for us….not for herself.
She had to.
Allah was helping her to be strong from temptation.
Nevertheless, Al Jihad Al Islam also saw that because of her devotion to Islam, she was losing her family, when she so desperately needed them, just as much as she needed Islam.
Al Jihad Al Islam decided she needed guidance on what to do…she decided she needed to talk to Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
Maybe Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī could help her gain guidance through Islam.
Besides, Al Jihad Al Islam had a feeling her family didn’t want to see much of her now today.
Al Jihad Al Islam went into her room, showered and dressed.
She didn’t see any of her family; they must all be in their rooms, she thought.
Al Jihad Al Islam decided to leave her family a note, saying she had gone to Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī and she would be back in a few hours.
Al Jihad Al Islam walked to the front door and left the house, taking one of the cars.
As she pulled into the street, she looked over her house, and prayed to Allah that they would soon be a family again.
She then drove off down the street.*
A while later I came out of the bedroom, still feeling angry but knowing I couldn’t sit in there thinking how to control it all day.
As I walked down the hall, I heard the girls laughing about something in Asshams Al Islam’s room.
I smiled, thinking that some of the family was happy at least for a while.
I continued into the living room and into the kitchen, where I found Al Jihad Al Islam’s note and quickly read it.
I stood there for a minute, then balled up the note and threw it into the trash.
“She couldn’t even stay away from her Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī long enough to try and talk about what had happened earlier.” I said aloud, feeling angrier.
Every effort to bring them in the mainstream was backfiring usually.
It wasn’t easy.
The persona like Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī always make it difficult.
Even Al Jihad Al Islam…
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Don’t worry. Her thirty years and twenty eight years old, tremendously attractive, young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughters, Asshams Al Islam and Assalāt Al Fajir are planning to fuck you themselves there. Please, don’t leave the home.”
I was startled.
It was a fun to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, to arrange something sexy for me I didn’t approve of.
The ever first President of Modern Democratic Årabia immensely enjoyed it.
I didn’t object why she was doing it.
She was crazy to establish her dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
And she was succeeding in it sooner than even I had expected.
I never wondered if I should truly consider divorce.
It wasn’t any solution for a Hindu at all.
The girls were now over 18.
They were no longer an issue.
If they wanted to stay with Al Jihad Al Islam or go with me if I left, that was their choice.
Nevertheless, I still didn’t want to split the family.
It wasn’t any solution for me.
All of them now slept under one roof, and that’s how I liked it.
I had never even liked the idea of the girls growing up and moving away, even when they were little.
I sighed, and decided little I could do about anything now at present immediately.
My wife, my Live in Relationship Partner, Al Jihad Al Islam, Asshams Al Islam’s and Asshams Al Islam’s and Assalāt Al Fajir’s still extremely beautiful Ammī, was gone and would be for some while.
Naturally, any talk with her, immediately, was out of question.
I decided go into my study.
I walked over to it, entered in, and closed the door.
Asshams Al Islam and Assalāt Al Fajir remained in Asshams Al Islam’s room for some time.
Assalāt Al Fajir refused to tell her sister her plan at first, saying she wasn’t done thinking yet.
The two of them sat in Asshams Al Islam’s room and watched the TV she too had in her room.
They had watched some comedy show on the comedy network, until it was over with, then Asshams Al Islam again became frustrated and wanted to know what was going on behind Assalāt Al Fajir’s head.
“Come on, Assalāt Al Fajir…out with it, I’m dying here, waiting for this grand plan of yours.” Asshams Al Islam said, needing to know her sister’s plan.
“Ok, ok, Asshams Al Islam. I’m not finished I think. Maybe you can throw some stuff in. Ok, Durgesh more than likely stays in his study and fucks someone of our ladyfriends when everyone’s asleep. I think we should make sure I can’t finish once I get started.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she looked at her sister.
“What does that mean Assalāt Al Fajir, we knock on his door and tell me to stop fucking our ladyfriends or else. I don’t think I would like that much.” Asshams Al Islam said, not thinking much of her sister’s plan.
“No, not like that, Asshams Al Islam, but we do interrupt him while he’s doing it. It has to be after Ammī is asleep, and then we come up with excuses why we need to disturb him in my study. I hope that we’ll catch him after he has started…you know…fucking someone. Then we interrupt him, and keep doing it until he has to go to bed.” Assalāt Al Fajir said feeling proud of herself for coming up with such a good plan.
Asshams Al Islam had another opinion of it.
“Assalāt Al Fajir, I can tell you don’t know guys very well. Even if Durgesh can’t finish in the study, if he’s really worked up he will just wait until he gets to bed then finish there. Well…unless he is no longer turned on, or turned off somehow.” Asshams Al Islam said, just thinking to herself out loud.
Nevertheless, Assalāt Al Fajir got an idea.
“Hey…I know something that would turn Durgesh off…Ammī. If she caught Durgesh in there…fucking one of our immensely beautiful friends, she would be mad as hell. That would make Durgesh forget about finishing.” Assalāt Al Fajir said to her sister, Asshams Al Islam.
“Maybe, but it might come out to Durgesh that we told Ammī he was doing it…they both would be mad at us.” Asshams Al Islam pointed out to her twenty eight years old younger Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān sister.
“We could try and get Ammī in there without telling her, but how?” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister.
“Well, you know, we’ll have to interrupt Durgesh at least a few times for him to give up trying maybe; we can try and use all the ideas. We just have to be careful and not make Durgesh think we’re up to anything….or Ammī either.” Asshams Al Islam said.
She then noticed the time and wondered if her parents had made any plans for later today.
Asshams Al Islam grinned and eagerly shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head.
They both got up from the bed.
Asshams Al Islam opened the door.
“Besides, I’m hungry now…” Asshams Al Islam said looking back at her sister.
Assalāt Al Fajir shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head in agreement.
However, she was thinking that she wouldn’t mind Asshams Al Islam eating something else.
Yet Assalāt Al Fajir was too shy to tell her sister.
She just followed Asshams Al Islam out of the door.
Assalāt Al Fajir leaned against the counter and waited for her sister to finish.
She then noticed Asshams Al Islam’s butt, being stuck up in the air as it was and couldn’t help but stare at it. Asshams Al Islam was more voluptuous.
Assalāt Al Fajir was fascinated by it.
She had an urge to rub her hand across it, but was much too shy for that.
She still felt uncomfortable speaking sexy words and describing sexual things.
Soon, Asshams Al Islam rose back up with a plate of spaghetthe.
“Want any?” Asshams Al Islam asked her sister holding the bowl up.
Assalāt Al Fajir shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head no.
Asshams Al Islam placed the bowl in the microwave and began heating it up.
Asshams Al Islam was feeling a weird vibe from her sister but wasn’t sure why.
“You ok sis…you seem a bit distant the past few minutes.” Asshams Al Islam asked her sister and lay her hand on Assalāt Al Fajir shoulder.
Assalāt Al Fajir jumped slightly at the contact, causing Asshams Al Islam to stare at her.
“I’m just thinking is all, mind is wondering.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she looked at her sister and tried to smile.
Assalāt Al Fajir shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head, and sat down with her sister, but only having soda.
Asshams Al Islam quickly ate and neither of them spoke.
After they finished up and cleaned up, they went looking for their parents.
After a quick look in their bedroom, family room and the spare bedroom, they looked at each other.
“Let’s check…maybe they went someplace in one of the cars.” Asshams Al Islam said as she went to the living room window and looked out.
She saw that Ammī’s car was missing from her spot and assumed that they had gone somewhere.
“Ammī’s car is gone…I bet they went somewhere, but it’s weird they didn’t tell us or anything.” Asshams Al Islam said, wondering where they both went too.
“I don’t know but I guess we have the house to ourselves then” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister.
“Hey I got an idea, let’s go check out Durgesh’s computer, you said Durgesh was looking at porn last night…he probably has some on his computer. You feel like checking?” Asshams Al Islam gave Assalāt Al Fajir a big smile.
Assalāt Al Fajir frowned at her sister, now a bit worried…they didn’t know how long their parents would be.
“Come on, Assalāt Al Fajir…after what we were talking about doing a little while ago, you’re scared now! Come on…it’ll be fun, you might learn something.” Asshams Al Islam said giggling slightly as she started toward the kitchen…and the study.
Assalāt Al Fajir hesitated for a few seconds, then followed her sister.
Assalāt Al Fajir was about fifteen feet behind when Asshams Al Islam reached the study door and reached down for the knob.
Asshams Al Islam started to turn the handle and looked back to her sister finally come where she could see her, when she opened the door.
Asshams Al Islam smiled at Assalāt Al Fajir and started to walk in the study, when she turned forward…and saw Durgesh sitting at the computer chair.
Asshams Al Islam saw me quickly whip my head about and look in her direction.
The eyes of us both went wide.
I was surprised because Al Jihad Al Islam’s immensely beautiful young sophisticated eldest Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter had opened the door.
Asshams Al Islam was surprised because I had my pants down around my ankles and had my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in Al Zāhidah Al Durrānī’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot .
Al Zāhidah Al Durrānī was Al Jihad Al Islam’s one of tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān friends that never appeared more than thirty five, yet they couldn’t be less than fifty ever.
Their own eldest daughters were around twenty-eight or thirty.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī requested,
“Dad, if you really want to please Ammī by protecting my interests, you please make the property settlement with Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. She is too smart for me.”
“You said it, Ammī,”
“That ŧhonks you, I mean who fucks you,”
“Start with the fifty thousand, Dad. Do the best you can. Let’s see who pleases you sexually more, my Ammī, my sisters, cousins and their extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends or Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. With myself cleaning their Musalmān Cunts and their perfect round firm plump Musalmān ass, of course.”
“Wallah, none!” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was immensely surprised.
“AIDS, cancer, what?”
“None, I said.”
“I don’t believe you.” Āmnah Azhar said, “It’s a medicine Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young Musalmān Lady Brigade claim to cure any otherwise incurable disease. Let Durgesh fuck your own womankind and lick their sexual secretions clean after it.”
“I know,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled, “But I don’t lick clean only my Musalmān womankind’s sexual secretions after Durgesh fucks them. I enjoy licking clean other beautiful Musalmān Cunts and other female Musalmān ass too. They tell me it’s a disease in itself that I myself love my humiliation so much that I can even die to have it.”
“Will you let me urinate into your open mouth?” suddenly Āmnah Azhar asked.
“Well, if Durgesh too urinates into my mouth simultaneously with you, yes. My Ammī, my sisters etcetera do it sometimes with Durgesh simultaneously. I enjoy it very much. Durgesh’s urine makes even their urine tastier.”
“You are suffering from mental sickness,” I said curtly, “there isn’t any taste in it. You only imagine it’s there.”
“Well,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said, “even if you are right, I refuse to get rid of my mental disease. I love it. I’ve an obsession to it now actually. I can’t live without this humiliation of mine if you say so. And remember I’m not alone. There are countless of us Musalmīn now.”
“I don’t think so.” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said gravely, obstinately.
“I think your sisters and your Ammī hated terrorism tremendously. You had soft corner to terrorism. Your Ammī and your sisters punished you for it ever since your childhood, instead of resorting to other positive remedies.”
“That may be right,” Āmnah Azhar agreed with me, “He is curable but it may take a long time.”*
The hotel was back from the main street, a high class, low, rambling hostelry that had apparently just been completed.
The adobe wall that surrounded the place had been freshly colorwashed.
It had an arched entrance and, farther along, an exit.
The two big cars crunched up the graveled driveway one after the other, came to a stop before an eye pleasing combination of ’dobe bricks, red tile roof, colorwashed walls and green cacti showing in a pastel color combination against the ’dobe.
Behind a desk a beautiful veiled/unveiled woman was sitting.
She beamed at us with friendly cordiality.
Āmnah Azhar smiled at him as if he was our servant and she was pleased with his services.
I disapproved of her arrogant behavior.
But Al Nādir Al Ghāzī only smiled,
“It’s okay with you, Ma’am?”
“Oh, sure, my boy,” Āmnah Azhar cooed at him graciously.
“Connecting bath?” the woman smiled.
“Separate,” Āmnah Azhar instructed curtly.
“It’s okay, Ma’am,” the woman laughed gracefully, “Sorry, I didn’t understand.”
“It’s all right,” Āmnah Azhar said majestically.
“Separate baths will be more expensive,” the woman smiled her warning.
“That’s all right,” Āmnah Azhar smiled her charming grace, “We want the best you have in the house.”
The woman’s beautiful eyes glistened.
“Ah, the Big Ma’am! She is accustomed to the best.”
“Yes,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled, “The Big Ma’am is on the Honeymoon.”
“Congratulations, Ma’am. Congratulations, Sir,” the woman congratulated Āmnah Azhar and me.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was enjoying it all.
He was habitual of enjoying his well calculated, well planned by himself, humiliations.
It was his own strategy to his success that never failed.
After all, how anyone could anticipate anyone planning to humiliate himself?
It kept them in dark about Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
None suspected ever the constantly humiliated moron.
And that defeated them.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī wasn’t moron at all.
He was actually the shrewdest operator in the family after his shrewdest ever-successful mastermind Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī.
Even his Ammī hadn’t realized it before Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī told her expressly.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had objected.
Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī used to laugh graciously.
Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī was the Woman of the House.
It wasn’t an ordinary sexual intercourse.
It was something more.
The Mexican woman kept smiling.
“You’ll get the best here, Ma’am. I have two beautiful connecting rooms. Yet, if you don’t want to share the bath, you’ve to take both the rooms, sorry. The room for the other señor must then be in the other wing.”
“That will be fine. I don’t want any interference from my servants. Right, Naddū?”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī felt immensely humiliated.
He never allowed anyone to call him ‘Naddū’, except his Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī.
Well, let the bitch too call him ‘Naddū’, as long as she lets him lick clean her ever-precious sexual secretions with me.
The more Ashvinātam sexual secretions of mine he licks the more powerful he is, even Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, the utmost successful of such persons, confirms it day and night.
He openly declares that he got rid of his physical incompetence completely licking his beautiful Musalmān houseladies’ Ashvinātam sexual secretions with me.
His wife Shamsah Salāħuddīn started it due to his physical incompetence.
She suggested Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, not an Imām then, to lick clean her sexual secretions with me.
Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī avoided at first.
Then Shamsah Salāħuddīn compelled him to lick clean her sexual secretions with me.
His daughters’ sanctity was in danger otherwise.
He licked clean his wife, Shamsah Salāħuddīn after I fucked her.
He did it with non-consent and enormous reluctance.
Yet, gradually he started to feel improvements in his physically incompetent body.
His daughter, Najmah Salāħuddīn, could not believe it.
“Abbū, you are certainly mistaken. It can’t happen ever. Ammī is cuckolding you, and you are surrendering to her and Durgesh. It’s plain nonsense.”
“Yes, Abbū.” Najmah Salāħuddīn said obediently.
“Can you do something for me?”
“Why are you asking me in such a manner, Abbū?” Najmah Salāħuddīn felt herself hurt, “I’m your daughter. I can do anything for you.”*
Āmnah Azhar herself picked up the pen and registered for the three of us.
“How about the cars?” Āmnah Azhar asked.
“Oh, the cars? You leave them right there in the driveway. No one ever steals a car from here.”
“You have a watchman?” Āmnah Azhar asked her somewhat curtly.
The beautiful young Mexican Musalmān woman smiled.
“No, no watchman. However, in this country, you are among the honest people. Nevertheless, as a precaution, just as a precaution, you lock the car and leave the key with me. I put them in the cash drawer. If it should be necessary to move the cars in the morning before you are up, the yard girl can do it and you do not need to be disturbed. Yet, your cars are safe.”
“Okay,” Āmnah Azhar said gravely, “I’ll lock up the cars, bring in the keys. Yet, how about the baggage?”
“The boy would bring it to your respective rooms.” She indicated to a man, instead of a boy.
“Naddū, you yourself bring my little overnight bag and Durgesh’s. Understand?”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī nodded obediently.
“Yes, Ma’am. Don’t worry. I’d myself take care of your baggage.”
“That’s a good boy,” Āmnah Azhar smiled graciously.
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Āmnah Azhar smiled at me.
“Durgesh darling, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to feel that matters are in your hands.”
I pulled her to me circling her waist, and kissed her on her lips.
“You needn’t to worry. Forget everything, Sweetheart.”
“I will show the excellent couple their honeymoon suite. You bring the baggage.”
The last sentence was addressed to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.*
Āmnah Azhar stood, then sank gracefully down until she lay there, arms and legs spread out, all ready to accept me.
“Come on Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, now!” she demanded seductively, “Get yourself undressed and come here. Come and fuck me! I need you so much! Forget your stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī for me, for ever. He doesn’t have enough manly vigor that his cut Musalmān noonī can ever penetrate me successfully optimum. You are already satisfying sexually countless beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān houseladies who were your ex daughters in law. Why the hell are you hesitating now?”
I looked gravely at my stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
He laughed bitterly.
“It’s alright, Dad. I am a Musalmān, not a Hindu. As such, we have different morals. You’ve your various stepAmmīs your Live in Relationship Partners now. We Musalmīn, sorry, Pseudo Musalmīn in your Musalmān Live in Relationship Partners’ and your ‘more ethical’ eyes can never even imagine it.”
Āmnah Azhar laughed sarcastically.
“You and your morals! Hahaha!”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled gravely.
“Go ahead, Dad. She has sucked you already. She is my Ammī now. She isn’t my wife any more according to Sharīåt-e-Islam.”
My clothes went flying in seconds as I advanced on Āmnah Azhar.
Āmnah Azhar’s extremely beautiful ever naughty Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes were shining brightly as she now opened her sexual lips apart; her hand sliding up and down her wild Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Come on Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I’m all ready for you,” Āmnah Azhar said, “Come and make love to me!”
I dropped to my knees beside her, drinking in the so erotic sight before me.
No way could I hold myself back now.
There was now a deep longing for her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body and a feral desire to empty my Hindu sperm inside her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Nature was winning and from now on, I wasn’t going to complain or hold back one inch!
Āmnah Azhar brought me back to reality as she now reached out with her arms.
“Bring your sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund here first Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Āmnah Azhar said, “I want to taste him first of all, once more. What a tastiest Uncut Hindu Lund you have! Allah Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah!”
On my knees now I crawled across the sheet until my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund swayed above her head.
I leaned forward to allow Āmnah Azhar’s head to lift up and her mouth to touch me.
I almost jumped as I felt the sweet touch of her quivering, red, crimson, beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips once more on my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
But instead of jerking away, my overriding movement was to thrust forward, realizing as I did so that Āmnah Azhar had simply opened her mouth and had now engulfed most of my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Come back Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Āmnah Azhar groaned, “I haven’t finished…”
“Don’t want to cum yet. My turn now,” I said as I repositioned myself astride her and leaned forward.
I heard Āmnah Azhar take a quick breath as my moistened Hindu erection touched her abdomen but it was higher up her young, twenty-eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body that now became the center of my attention.
Her gorgeous Musalmān breasts seemed to be bulging out as her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body prepared itself for sex.
In fact, all her sexual parts were in overdrive as she uncontrollably became more and more aroused.
She was glowing with health, vitality and sex appeal.
Somehow, I imagined her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot flooding with her ardent Musalmān lubrications and with my Hindu sperm.
I imagined her belly swollen with my child.
I imagined her plump, ever erect, proud Musalmān breasts leaking sprays of milk.
I knew that both Āmnah Azhar and I were very, very ready now.
My male Hindu lips descended onto one breast, loving the way her well-filled Musalmān flesh gave way and bounced back.
Her plump, ever erect, proud Musalmān breasts filled my ever experienced, handsome, strong Hindu hands beautifully as I alternated my kissing from one breast to the other; from one nipple to tit next.
Āmnah Azhar’s breath was coming faster now, her rib cage was heaving and I could feel that her heart was pounding.
Then leaving her plump, ever erect, proud Musalmān breasts I slowly moved down her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body, loving every inch of it; her sleek svelte figure alluring in every way.
“Not yet, I’m not,” I replied, my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund jerking as I spoke; a long dribble of precum sliding from it down onto her smooth beautiful Musalmān thigh, “I haven’t fucked you yet!”
“Allah, Oh God, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, yes, yes,” moaned Āmnah Azhar frantically, “Come on then, fuck me, fill me!”
I crawled up on her, until I was poised immediately above Āmnah Azhar’s wanton female Musalmān body.
My sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund was sliding now against her slippery Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān skin, not all that far from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I felt Āmnah Azhar’s pink, delicate, young, beautiful Musalmān hand grasp my Hindu erection and pull me towards her.
I simply couldn’t resist.
Why the hell should have I?
Because Āmnah Azhar was my ex stepdaughter in law?
Now, finally, I was about to penetrate Āmnah Azhar’s young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, pink, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with my supercharged sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Āmnah Azhar’s pink, delicate, young, beautiful Musalmān hand moved my stout Hindu knob up and down her pink Musalmān slit, obviously coating it in her generous Musalmān lubrications before aligning the end with the indentation that I could now feel; the entrance to her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, to her Musalmān womb itself.
“Come to me, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, please,” Āmnah Azhar said as her delicate young pink Musalmān hands pulled me closer, “Get your ever experienced, handsome, strong Uncut Hindu Lund inside me!”
There was a slight resistance before our slippery fluids eased her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān entrance and then I felt myself sliding, sliding into her hot wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hole.
“Aaaaahhhhhh!” breathed Āmnah Azhar, her eyes bright and wild, “Yessssss, yesssss! Allah Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah!”
I held myself in place, allowing her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body to get used to my rigid sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund before Āmnah Azhar’s arms pulled me once more.
“All the way, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Āmnah Azhar said, “All the way in now. Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
It was now my turn to moan.
Yet, with immense pride, triumphantly, of course!
“Yesssss! Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God – you’re lovely; so tight, so hot, so sweet!” I hissed as I gently allowed my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund to penetrate further into her grasping young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Oh Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I’ve waited so long,” groaned Āmnah Azhar as I felt her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body lifting up to meet me, “Love me, just make love to me now!”
Instead of speaking I began moving up and down, sliding my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān depths to her entrance and back once more.
That was followed by soft grunts from Āmnah Azhar as I reached as far into her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body as I could penetrate; the tip of my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund now pushing hard against her Musalmān cervix.
I looked down at her and saw that Āmnah Azhar had a massive smile on her face; a look of pure female Musalmān delight and total absorption.
I smiled as well as I watched her immensely beautiful, young, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth fall open when I pushed my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund hard into her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body once again.
Hard but not violent, pushing but not driving; penetrating but not piercing; together we fucked steadily, our bodies coming together in unison; our minds united.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was watching immensely absorbed.
Durgesh was always the best.
It was the duty he was born for, perhaps, actually.
Durgesh always fucked them wildly, yet immense sophisticatedly ever.
It was unique.
“You weren’t a virgin?” I asked eventually and Āmnah Azhar shook her head.
“Well, I was a sort-of virgin Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā. I’ve had a ‘lover’, a husband, but you’re the first man to be inside me,” Āmnah Azhar said, “My hairbrush broke me in and my vibrator and things have been up there too but this is so much better – you’re alive inside me! I can feel all the veins on your sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund inside me. I can feel you sliding in me. You’re pulsing and throbbing in there, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said, as I continued to gently make love to Āmnah Azhar, “However, not getting close to coming even now, that’s why I’m throbbing only.”
“Oh good, Allah Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah! Fuck me nonstop now until I exist, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” moaned Āmnah Azhar, her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot now gripping my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund tighter, “However, ultimately, You’re going to fill me, aren’t you Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā?”
I hadn’t actually considered that subject.
I’d been too absorbed in just loving her but now the matter was not getting close even now.
A decision not had to be made soon.
I had tremendous time.
If there wasn’t the stockholders’ meeting, I could have really fucked Āmnah Azhar till infinity nonstop.
“Shouldn’t I pull out when I cum,” I said, “Don’t want you getting pregnant the first time!”
“Why ever not?” asked Āmnah Azhar, her beautiful Musalmān eyes locked onto mine, “I love you; I want you; I want to be with you, so why ever not?”
I smiled only.
Not responding to her question.
“Suppose I want to?” said Āmnah Azhar obstinately.
Her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was now very actively milking my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund, “I want to get my children out of the way early, so why not start right now? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī couldn’t give me any child. Won’t you too?”
My eyes opened wide as Āmnah Azhar spoke, knowing that in a few minutes that could indeed happen – or I could abort my mission and spray my seed on Āmnah Azhar’s body instead.
“Shall we try then?” I asked Āmnah Azhar and her immensely beautiful, young, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth beamed a huge smile back at me.
“Yes Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, yessss,” she cried, “Do it then – fill me!”
My mind had been shaken with the situation, so much so that lust had built up as if behind a dam inside me.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God,” I groaned as desire began to overcome me.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God,” I groaned again as my body began to drive my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund into Āmnah Azhar harder and faster.
“Oh yes, yes, Durgesh, Allah Allah, Måshā Allah, Subħān Allah! Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā – do it!” cried Āmnah Azhar, her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body now writhing wildly beneath me, “Don’t stop – I’m coming too!”
I couldn’t stop anyway now – I couldn’t even bring myself to withdraw – I could only power my pulsating sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund as far into her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, as I could, now feeling the rubbery entrance to her very Musalmān womb at the tip of my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Sensations were crawling all over me.
My whole body had gone mad as I seemed to turn into one enormous sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund as I slammed harder and harder into Āmnah Azhar’s beautiful, splendid, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
Sweat was dripping everywhere.
Juices were spraying around.
Limbs were flailing.
Voices were crying out.
Orgasms were coming, coming, cummmmming!!
With a final grunt I felt my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund jerk hard and blast off his first volley of molten fire.
My Hindu sperm was overflowing around my balls already!
I grunted again as another eruption took place; and another and yet another.
Āmnah Azhar had her immensely beautiful, young, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth tight shut and all her muscles had seized up – until suddenly she let it all out.
“Yessss DURGESH, ANANT MUSLIMĀTCHOD HINDU PIYĀ, – cummmmmming! I’m cummmming toooooooooooo!” Āmnah Azhar screamed, loud enough for me to look around to check that no-one had heard, “Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah! Oh God – I’m cumming so hard – can’t stop!”
Her young, twenty-eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body was jerking wildly around.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing and sucking at my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund, demanding every last drop of my Hindu semen be shed inside its welcoming Musalmān embrace.
Āmnah Azhar’s arms were tight around my neck; her legs tight over my Hindu male buttocks as she pulled me as far into her as she could.
In addition, I wasn’t about to disappoint her.
My sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund was firmly lodged against her cervix as my creamy Hindu sperm filled her up while Āmnah Azhar shook and shivered and jerked her way through what seemed like a never ending orgasm.
“Oh Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, that was so wonderful,” said Āmnah Azhar as she finally came down from her female Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ecstasy, “If I’d have known it would be that good I’d have made you make love to me years ago!”
“Oh no, you wouldn’t have managed,” I replied, “I wouldn’t have let you.”
“Oh yeah?” she questioned me, “Just as well I didn’t try then!”
Slowly we collapsed, Āmnah Azhar lying on the bed and me with my lips resting on Āmnah Azhar’s.
We held our hands too.
My sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund was still penetrating her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“What are you up to?” asked Āmnah Azhar as I moved between her legs once more, “What are you doing?”
“He has just realized I hadn’t done my duty,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī laughed, “I Didn’t clean you up!
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Ǻrab Sheikħ shifted his right hand to a position near the first lapel of his green coat.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand caught a glimpse of a revolver in a shoulder holster.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
Still having faith in violent means and strategies.
Ħuzūr S.A.W were compelled to use violent means in his divine holy lifetime to establish peace everywhere.
He S.A.W couldn’t do it another way.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was sure if Ħuzūr S.A.W were today he S.A.W would never have resorted to any violent means whatsoever.
The modern Ǻrab Sheikħs were never capable to understand Muħsin-e-insāniyat S.A.W.
They had erroneously surrendered to Ǻrab Imperialism in the name of Islam.
Consequently they had themselves killed the mission of Ħuzūr S.A.W unknowingly, imprudently.
Ved Nagar was a City of Shaktimāns.
What could the dog or his revolver do if Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand used his mind/spiritual power?
Present day Musalmīn, Pseudo Musalmīn actually, had faith in the means Yazīd Malåūn had more than in the faith Ħuzūr S.A.W had.
The dog, facing the door, elevated his tail, the tip of it waving to and fro.
A bolt shot on the inside of the door.
The Ǻrab Sheikħ opened the door for an inch or two.
A safety chain was holding it in that position.
A porch light clicked on, outlining Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand in brilliance.
“Who are you?” The Ǻrab Sheikħ asked Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, “What do you want?”
“I’m looking for the master of this mansion.”
“I’d prefer to tell that to himself only.”
“Give me some hint to tell him why you want to meet him.”
“About some properties he has here at Ved Nagar.”
“As far as I know, the Boss is interested only in purchasing the properties here, not in selling.”
“This mansion is also owned by the Mayor himself?”
“Not by the Mayor of Ved Nagar. It’s on his personal name along with Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb.”
“I’d like to meet anyone of them.”
“Well, not as late as tonight now. Go back to wherever you have come from, or to a hotel. Call on him after ten o’clock in the morning.” The Ǻrab Sheikħ started to close the door.
Then, something about the dog’s attitude caught the attention of the Ǻrab Sheikħ.
He asked suspiciously.
“Hey, how the hell did you get past that dog?”
“I happen to know something about their psychology.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled graciously.
“Well, the dog is not supposed to let anyone out of a car after dark.”
“It seems the dog made an exception in my case,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand kept smiling politely yet gracefully, “I just got out of the car and…”
“Why the hell the dog made an exception for you?”
“Ask your dog.”
The Ǻrab Sheikħ frowned,
“Just who are you anyway?”
“I’m trying to find out something about Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
The Ǻrab Sheikħ’s face became rigidly immobile.
“Know anything about her?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand asked politely in his sweetest voice.
“No,” The Ǻrab Sheikħ said, and slammed the door.
“Her bodyguard has been found murdered early this morning.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand called through the closed door.
He was taking safe risks using the general psychology of the Ǻrab Sheikħs.
There was no response.
Yet, on the other hand, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand heard no sound of steps in the corridor.
It indicated the Ǻrab Sheikħ hadn’t turned away from the door.
It further indicated the Ǻrab Sheikħ was hesitating whether to turn away or he should open the door.
It was the correct psychological moment to attack psychologically further more.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped here.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand said gravely, “Her bodyguard was driving the car. Al Samīnah Al Qāsim had her gasoline tank filled here.”
There was a pause, then the door jerked open.
“What was that you said?” The Ǻrab Sheikħ demanded.
“I said Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped here sometime around twelve thirty o’clock in the morning and had her gas tank filled.”
“You must be drunk or crazy. I neither know which nor do I give a damn. Now, get back in your car or I’ll tell the dog to tear your leg off.”
“Do that and I’ll sue you persons for damages. It would be a fun to wind up owning a Ved Nagar ranch of you persons.”
“It isn’t that easy, my boy.”
“Go on,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand told the Ǻrab Sheikħ, “Tell your dog to tear of my leg and see what happens.”
“What the hell you want?”
“I want to ask something about Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
“She isn’t here.”
“What if she was?”
“Ask the Mayor or Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled cunningly, “Being an arrogant dumb Ǻrab Sheikħ you may not understand what if Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was here while her bodyguard is found murdered, but neither Durgesh nor his Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb maybe as dumb as you are. Your indiscreet arrogance never allows you to use your wisdoms. Or, don’t you have any wisdom at all, man?”*
There followed a long moment.
During the moment, the heavy, sinewy, powerful Ǻrab Sheikħ, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, behind the door, met Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand’s smart and brilliant eyes in thoughtful appraisal.
He turned and looked at Amīnah Zahīr and me for instructions.
Just Eighteen Just Adult Amīnah Zahīr was still nude on her back.
I was still between her glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān legs.
My sixty four years old, utmost experienced, Musalmān Cunts Champion Uncut Hindu Lund was still enjoying its victory over the Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Cunt, visiting it triumphantly, proudly, vigorously.
Amīnah Zahīr impishly nodded to Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
She didn’t hesitate even for a second to face Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, while I was fucking her.
Ved Nagar Constitution allowed her.
That’s only what Amīnah Zahīr cared about.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was her ideal.
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was a proud nudist feminist, even now when Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
It was the visitor’s responsibility to choose whether s/he wanted to see a pair in lovemaking or not.
The Citizens of Ved Nagar were constitutionally allowed to make love anywhere they damn pleased publicly.
The persons having objection, could leave the place, if they didn’t want to see them in making love.
Being himself a citizen of Ved Nagar Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand knew it very well.
Getting permission from Amīnah Zahīr, the Just Eighteen Just Adult young lady, involved in lovemaking with me, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr removed the safety chain from the door.
He invited them in.
“Come in. They are in lovemaking. But if you haven’t any taboo in watching them making love, you may come in.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
“Thank you. None of us has any taboo whatsoever against watching our hosts making love. It’s their mansion. It’s their privilege.”
“Okay, you may come in, Mr.─?”
“Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“All right, Mr. Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, come in.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand turned back toward the car,
“Come on, Bājī, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Muħammad bin Qāsim,” he called.
“What about that damned dog?” Muħammad bin Qāsim called irritably, “Can’t you put him in his damned closet?”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said curtly,
“The dog remains where he is. However, he won’t do anything unless I tell him to.”
“You, caretaker here?” Muħammad bin Qāsim asked trying to humiliate Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled curtly,
“Never mind. Don’t bother your child brain to understand my status here. Nevertheless, I’m representing Imām Muħammad Ħasan here, if it’s any of your damned business.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand interfered.
“We are also representing Imām Muħammad Ħasan. There isn’t anything to be arrogant to each other.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan didn’t inform me of you peoples’ arrival on his behalf, neither Muħammad Åbdullah bothered to do so.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan opened the door.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim followed her Nanad Bājī, her sister in law.
Both of them slid out to the ground, walked confidently toward the porch, watching Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand standing there.
The dog turned to regard them, gave a low throated, ominous growl, but made no move.
Muħammad bin Qāsim had put one foot on the ground.
However, as soon as he heard the growl, Muħammad bin Qāsim promptly returned to the automobile and slammed the door.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr eyed Muħammad bin Qāsim scornfully,
“Shame on you. Even the ladies are more daring. Damn you. It’s all right.” then he turned to the dog, “Shut up, Shérū!”
The dog ceased growling, regarded Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s confident approach with hard-eyed appraisal, ignoring Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim altogether, then slowly waved the tip of his tail.
Muħammad bin Qāsim, observed that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim made it all right.
He opened the door once more, placed his right foot on the ground tentatively, cautiously, followed it with his left foot, and took two or three guardedly diffident, timid, steps toward the porch.
The dog bristled, stiffened, growled, then suddenly made a lunge for Muħammad bin Qāsim.
Muħammad bin Qāsim whirled, raced back into the car just as the snarling dog flung himself against the door, his teeth snapping at the metal.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr opened the door, ran out on the porch, yelled,
“Shérū! Down! Damn it, Shérū, get down!”
The dog looked back over his shoulder.
Slowly and reluctantly, the dog sank to a crouching position on the ground.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled to himself.
That’s what he himself was to his wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā.
When Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā scolded him, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr did also sink to crouching position, near her beautiful sacred Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān feet.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wanted all of them that way.
Moreover, they hadn’t another option.
He was proud of himself that he was a cuckold to his extremely beautiful wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā and her Hindu lover, Durgesh, the greatest.
Ved Nagar was an actual Democratic City State.
Otherwise, the cuckold Musalmīn could never celebrate their Independence day openly.
Durgesh was against it.
Most of the HVSI persons were against it.
Nevertheless, most of them allowed the proposal to put to vote.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was immensely glad when the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI ultimately announced the victory of the cuckold Musalmīn.
They were allowed to celebrate their Independence day.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Seven movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service supported the cuckold Musalmīn.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was immensely indebted and grateful to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
He shouted to the dog.
“Here, Shérū, come here. Come here to me!”
The dog turned and came toward Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr as though expecting a beating.
“Damn you,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said, “I told you not to do that. Now you get down and stay down.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr walked to the car confidently with immense self-pride.
He wasn’t ashamed of himself that he was a cuckold husband.
Neither any of his cuckold friends was.
They had successfully formed a Cuckold Society maintaining their own kind of freedom with their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers/live in relationship partners.
It was a punishable crime now in Ved Nagar to disgrace them or their society.
It was a Society of Triples, instead of couples, supported by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself.
The Musalmān wife, Hindu lover/live in relationship partner and Musalmān husband were the three members of a legal unit of it.
So many Musalmīn were against it, yet there were some Musalmīn too that supported the movement Cuckold Your Musalmān husband.
Their demand was ‘Cuckold the entire terrorists to disgrace and punish them publicly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself for them, reincarnated.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was watching Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr curiously.
“Come in,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said to Muħammad bin Qāsim, “Shérū won’t hurt you now.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim looked past Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr at the dog, and said huskily,
“If that damned dog makes a pass at me, I’m going to shoot at him.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr eyed Muħammad bin Qāsim with cold hard eyes.
“You would do nothing of the sort if you don’t want to get hurt yourself. If you hurt the dog even infinitesimal, I’d break your damned neck. Understand?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted.
“You damned cuckold, I know everything about you. Never try to threaten me again, you shameless creature.”
“Well, it’s better to be shameless as I am than being shameful as you are. Now, come on.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim gritted through his teeth helplessly, quite annoyed.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was smiling at Muħammad bin Qāsim with quite a smirk on his face,
“My boy, you won’t have any trouble with Shérū as long as you get out and come in moving confidently.”
“You bloody cuckold, are you teaching me how to behave with that damned dog?” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted quite irritated now.
“Sure, you impotent,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed.
“Damn you. I’m not impotent.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted again.
“Your girlfriends claim that you are.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled deliberately humiliating Muħammad bin Qāsim now.
“They are horny bitches. They claim my impotence only because they want to get sympathy of Durgesh and his legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“If you were a man why the hell your Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends would need Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund instead of your cut Musalmān nūnī?”
“Cut Musalmān Lund.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted irritably.
“Cut Musalmān nūnī.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed.
“Cut Musalmān Lund.”
“Cut Musalmān nūnī.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr repeated, “That’s what your girlfriends call your entirely incompetent bloody sexual organ. Don’t they, my boy?”
“Shut up, you bloody cuckold.”
“It’s better to be even a cuckold than being impotent.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr kept laughing at Muħammad bin Qāsim.*
Muħammad bin Qāsim was surprised at the cuckold’s entirely unashamed aggressive behavior.
“Oh, come on.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said, “Move confidently but don’t ever start running from a dog, and don’t ever act as though you were afraid.”
“Stand still and let the damned dog tear a leg off, I suppose. Isn’t it?” Muħammad bin Qāsim said sarcastically.
“Impotent, your Jījū and your sisters didn’t have any trouble,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr pointed out, “did they?”
“The trouble I had,” Muħammad bin Qāsim told Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, “was enough to make up for all the four of us.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim eased himself out of the automobile and followed Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr to the porch.
“Come in,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr invited them, “Shérū, get the hell back out of the way.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr aimed a halfhearted kick imitating his ever-dominant wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā used to aim at him with her foot.
He used to enjoy both the actions.
Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā kicking him with her foot as if he was her dog, instead of her husband and imitating her himself with Shérū and other dogs.
His critics laughed at him.
“You love blasphemy, don’t you?” his worst critic, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī had watched Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr scornfully once.
“How do you mean?” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled at him as if it wasn’t anything abnormal.
“Your wife is also Zaynab bint Åāmir but she isn’t certainly Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā. Is she?”
“I respect her this way. Can’t I even respect my wife? Damn you.”
“Isn’t it a fact that when your wife gets fucked by Durgesh sitting on his lap, she uses you as her footrest, as her pedestal?”
“So what? I love it. I enjoy it.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled proudly, entirely unashamed of himself.
“You clean Durgesh’s legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund after Durgesh sodomizes your wife, by sucking him taking it in your mouth. Don’t you?”
“It’s a new society, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Try to understand it Imām Sāħab.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I felt the supple flesh of her big Musalmān breasts squash against the side of my Hindu chest.
They felt full and heavy, much different from those of the Musalmān Beauties I’d enjoyed so far.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn grazed her hand across my cheek.
“My precious baby’s husband …such a strength to me.”
“Anything you need, Ammījān,” I answered, giving her arm an assuring rub, not as I was her son in law, as if I was her own husband instead.
I knew she loved my such a behavior very much.
Her own behavior with me was itself as if I wasn’t her twenty eight years old daughter’s husband, her own husband instead.
I always felt erection whenever she was with me and I’ve felt her wetness too, on the pretext that my Uncut Hindu Lund accidentally touched her ravenous Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
It was a different matter she rubbed her Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot herself on my Uncut Hindu Lund whenever such an incident occurred.
I felt she deliberately managed such occurrences too much frequently.
Even then neither she had fucked me till now, nor I had fucked her.
Yet it was written in our body language expressly, entirely shamelessly, that we both wanted to fuck each other till our very existence.
None of us was ashamed of it.
We proudly flirted with each other.
Shamsah-salahuddin squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund deliberately every now and then.
I also hugged her, kissed her on her beautiful lips squeezed her breasts and buttocks whenever we were teasing each other.
Once she winked at me boldly.
“Hey, Hindu scoundrel, control yourself. I’m satisfied with my Musalmān husband.You can’t fuck me, understand?”
I laughed sarcastically,
“Sālī, you yourself want to fuck me. Why the hell otherwise you squeeze my Uncut Hindu Lund every now and then seductively?”
“Not seductively my boy, not seductively.” she laughed too winking at me smartly, “Playfully, teasingly. They say you are ultramodern. What the else you expect from an ultramodern mother in law, sister in law etcetera? How the hell otherwise we entertain you as your in laws?”
“Fuck me.” I winked at her.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund in such a manner that I couldn’t help but scream.
I entered my right palm in her panties between her legs.
She stood still.
I put it on her bare Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
She smiled at me teasingly.
“Very much.” I smiled lewdly yet still sophisticatedly,”Show it to me.”
“This is not for you.” she said teasingly, “I’ve given you my daughter for it.”
“I want the daughter’s Ammī as well.”
“Noway, my dear scoundrel Hindu son in law. I know you are fucking your most of the female in laws, but not me.”
“I’m equivalent to your own Ammī, idiot.”
My palm was still on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
We both were enjoying it very much.
The Sālī was an expert Cock-teaser, I knew now it very well.
She would let me fuck her ultimately, but not now.
And I was so excited that I wanted to fuck her immediately.
In the meantime, Shamsah Salāħuddīn had also brought my Uncut Hindu Lund out and now she was also playing with it, playfully, teasing me more and more.
I started to undress her.
It was not the bedroom.
I expected her protest.
It was her Rose Garden.
There were too many females too that were her intimate friends.
I had already fucked so many of them.
It was her deliberate policy to tease me in front of her intimate female friends and when I was too excited to control myself she used to let me fuck her extremely beautiful female friends.
She enjoyed watching me fuck her friends.
But she never let me fuck herself.*
I undressed Shamsah Salāħuddīn entirely.
Well, it wasn’t our first time teasing each other nude.
She let me undress her even before she allowed her daughter to marry me.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn had also undressed me entirely in the meantime.
Her friends were watching us with immense interest.
They knew they would have to let me fuck them ultimately.
Well, they were waiting for the golden opportunity themselves.
Suddenly Shamsah Salāħuddīn kissed my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I kissed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot in return.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn suddenly started to lick my Uncut Hindu Lund on its entire length.
My Hindu male lips were as if pasted now on her extremely fragrant Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
She closed her eyes in pleasure.
Well, her Musalmān husband, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, could also give her this pleasure.
She wanted the unique legendary pleasure from me that only I could provide to my women, no one else.
My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund!
My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund!
Well, she licked my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund for at least one hour completely.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān friends were smiling.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn always managed to give something new to me.
In broad daylight, Shamsah Salāħuddīn is nude with me in her famous Rose Garden openly under open sky.
She has herself undressed me too.
I’m also nude and kissing her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Perhaps I didn’t know that it was being captured in movie cameras too.
They didn’t know.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn is very shrewd very mysterious extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān lady.
She was herself a daughter of a Senator of Pakistan, a Jāgīrdār, a landlord.
Suddenly she swallowed my Uncut Hindu Lund in her mouth and started sucking it vehemently, passionately.
I enjoyed it very much.
But Shamsah Salāħuddīn enjoyed it more.
It was one of the unique things that only I could provide to her.
She could suck me for hours.
And for hours Shamsah Salāħuddīn really sucked me.
She couldn’t stop herself.
Yet she wasn’t ashamed of her even the slightest.
His absolutely incompetent Musalmān husband, Salāuddīn Ayyūbī,could never give her this pleasure.
His cut Musalmān nūnī was never capable to be sucked for hours.
It was not more than two inches long moreover.
Sucking my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund for hours,had its own unique sexual pleasure.
I was kissing her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot still now.
Suddenly, without any intimation, I pulled out my Uncut Hindu Lund from her still greedy mouth and shoved it into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot without any ultimatum.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn couldn’t believe it had happened.
My Uncut legendary Hindu Lund was really inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot entirely.
And it was throbbing inside her stretching her vaginal muscles beyond her imaginations.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn was startled.
She didn’t realize I am fucking her now wildly, aggressively and passionately.
I fucked her nonstop, not for hours, for days instead.
For a complete week Shamsah-salahuddin was as if in trance.
I fucked her in whatsoever manner, in whatsoever position, in whatsoever place I pleased.
Shamsah-salahuddin never resisted me.
Instead, her own body revolted against her.
It responded to my every action more wildly than even mine.
Her body betrayed her.
She was utmost angry to her own body.
It emitted infinite sexual bliss whenever my Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot deepest.
Her extremely greedy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot was absolutely shameless.
It greeted my Uncut Hindu Lund whenever it penetrated her, and clutched it with entire sexual strength it could muster.
Her gorgeous glamorous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān buttocks always gyrated to greet my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her extremely greedy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
She was very ashamed of her body.
But she couldn’t help it.
I fucked her nonstop for one complete week.*
Every cell of her extremely glamorous still athletic extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body was greeting my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.
Her daughter Najmah Salāħuddīn ultimately protested.
“I never knew you were so anxious to fuck my Ammī. Why the hell you Hindus are so incestuous? Enjoying your perfectly faithful
extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān wife’s Ammī even more than your own wife.”
I smiled fucking Shamsah Salāħuddīn.
“It’s not so, Najmah Salāħuddīn.”
“What do you mean? It’s for more than a month now that you are continuously fucking my innocent Ammījān, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, nonstop, either in this position or that. Isn’t it true?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn pushed back her glorious glamorous Musalmān buttocks into my nude male Hindu lap, swallowing my Uncut Hindu Lund absolutely into her extremely beautiful ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot deepest.
“It’s alright, Najmah Salāħuddīn,” Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled patiently, “More than one month has already passed. He has allowed me only to attend my natural calls and cleaning of my body. Except these occasions Durgesh never stopped fucking me wildly. I have to eat even being fucked by him.”
“I requested you Ammī, not to tease him so every now and then. Now look yourself. How excited Durgesh is for you.”
“It’s alright, baby. Let your Hindu husband fuck me. I want to see when he releases me from his nude ever lusting male Hindu lap. I’ve forgotten now remaining free. I think perhaps I myself can’t live without your Hindu husband’s ever ravenous Uncut Hindu Lund always penetrating my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot . From more than one month, I’m offering my Salwāt even being fucked by Durgesh constantly without any exception.”*
Shamsah Salāħuddīn slid her naked leg up across the top of her Hindu Son in law’s legs, grazing her tiny bare foot up my thigh.
I was excited by the feeling.
Soft smooth Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān skin was rubbing against my own.
“Thank you sweetie. I’m gonna need you a lot I think.”
Two hours later, sunshine peered though the shades.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn lifted her head off her Hindu Son in law’s chest and saw her daughter Najmah Salāħuddīn standing beside the bed, still in her PJ’s.
“Good morning sunshine,” Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled.
Najmah Salāħuddīn looked at her Hindu Husband and the way her Ammī, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, was nearly sprawled out on top of me.
“Why are you in Durgesh’s bed?”
“Your Hindu husband and I were cuddling somewhat this morning.” Shamsah Salāħuddīn tried to tease her daughter, “Any objection?”
Waking, I was kinda surprised by the way my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, lying on me.
One of her naked legs was still draped across my midsection and both her big Musalmān tits were now mashed against my Hindu chest.
A few of the top buttons to her blouse had popped open and I could see a huge bulging cleavage straining again the lacy hem of her white bra.
“Fucking hell.” I thought as I felt a surge of blood enter my Uncut Hindu Pecker. “Were the rumors true?”
“Oh, will you come cuddle with me next?” Najmah Salāħuddīn asked, with a cuteness that no Ammī could resist.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled.
“Well I would, but it looks like it’s time for you and your Hindu husband to get ready for the day.”
Najmah Salāħuddīn stomped out of the room in a tiff. “Aww, I hate the day.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled again, then propped herself up on her elbows, gazing down at me.
“Good morning, my dear son in law,” she said affectionately.
“Guess we fell asleep huh?” I said.
“Yeah, I guess so. Wish we didn’t have to get up though,” she answered, making a cute little pouty face.
My Hindu erection was now at full attention.
Having risen to her elbows, my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, was exposing a lot more tit-meat.
Huge bulging mounds of soft flesh were spilling over the tops of her bra cups and I found myself gawking into the deep gaping pocket of exposed cleavage, though quite tactfully and sophisticatedly, of course.
“Thank you for letting me snuggle. I sooo needed it,” she said.
“Anytime, Ammījān, Shamsah Salāħuddīn,” I said, significantly.
Najmah Salāħuddīn had once asked me teasing her Ammī not to call her Ammījān alone, Ammījān Shamsah Salāħuddīn instead.
She was only five years elder to me.
Calling her Ammījān only implied as if she was too older than I was.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn had permitted me only to tease her daughter in return.
Yet it was now routine, nevertheless.
As she slid off me, Shamsah Salāħuddīn‘s inner thigh rubbed across her Hindu Son in law’s long rigid Hindu love-muscle.
“I suppose I should get you two some breakfast.”
I lay there awkwardly, not even attempting to conceal the tent in my sheet.
When she herself was not careful, why the hell should I?
“Yeah, I’ll get up in a sec.”
Rising to her feet, Shamsah Salāħuddīn stood bedside, placed her hand on her extremely beautiful gorgeous exquisite Musalmān buttocks and smiled down at me.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about that you know.”
She glanced at the still obvious protrusion, then back into my eyes.
“That.” She smiled significantly.
“Ohh…yeah.” I mumbled boldly.
“You may be my first priority now, but I do know some things about the young men of your age. It’s called a piss hard-on and it probably gets like that every morning…am I right?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked, feeding me a quirky smile.
“Yeah…pretty much.” I almost winked at her.
Again, why the hell must I care, if she herself is talking of everything so boldly.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled proudly, bent over and poked her Hindu Son in law in the ribs, making me squirm.
“See, I know more about you than you think.”
I watched her stroll towards the door.
I could see the indentation of the hem of her panties through her skirt and her meaty Musalmān buttocks seemed to have little extra sway as she stepped towards the hallway.
Before rounding the corner, she peeked back, smiling almost naughtily and gave me a cute little wink.
The sheet rose upward as my rock hard Hindu erection flexed and throbbed beneath it.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, the Sālī was teasing me too.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn glanced at it and giggled.
“Show off.” She disappeared from the doorway.
“Eīshān .” I muttered excitedly, under my breath.*
That afternoon Shamsah Salāħuddīn took us over to see Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī at the hospital.
Najmah Salāħuddīn snuggled up beside her Abbū and Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s wife sat on the other side of me.
I sat across the room in a chair.
“I missed you Abbū.” Najmah Salāħuddīn said.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī kissed his daughter on the forehead.
“Missed you too pumpkin.”
She squeezed her father.
“I want you to come home.”
“Najmah Salāħuddīn, be careful honey, your Abbū is still quite sore.” Shamsah Salāħuddīn said.
She kissed him on the cheek.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī looked across at his son in law.
“That’s ok, precious. Durgesh, how you doin’ buddy?”
“I’m ok Abbū,” I answered.
Najmah Salāħuddīn seemed jealous that the attention was drawn from her.
“Ammī slept in my bed last night.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn fed her daughter a stern look.
“Najmah Salāħuddīn, hush your mouth.”
“Well you did, Ammī, didn’t you?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked at her husband as he returned an inquisitive smile.
“Durgesh and I were having a chat after I got home and I fell asleep on their bed.”
“Ammī was laying on top of him this morning.” Najmah Salāħuddīn said.
“Najmah Salāħuddīn…I most certainly was not, now I told you to hush. I was giving your husband a hug when she walked in…wasn’t I?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked, looking over at me.
I nodded, perfectly knowing my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, was lying and that I woke up with her on top of me, as if she wasn’t my Ammī in law, she was my wife herself, instead.
Yet I only exclaimed,
“Well I got good news. The doctor said I can come home in two days.” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said.
“Yay!” Najmah Salāħuddīn cheered.
“I’ll have to come back for physical therapy twice a week, but otherwise I’ll be good to go.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled and patted my hand. “That’s great sweetie.”
“Yeah, awesome, Abbū.” I added.
“Well, I better to get the kids home so they can get started on their work.” Shamsah Salāħuddīn said.
“Awww, I wanna stay with Abbū. ” Najmah Salāħuddīn whined in protest.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī hugged her tight.
“Abbū will be home in a few days pumpkin.”
They gave their hugs and said their goodbyes and Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī watched his little family move down the hallway towards the elevator.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn was wearing a pair of low cut jeans that looked as though they were sculpted around her luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ass.
She also wore a sexy white tank top and mini platform sandals with a 4 ½ inch heels.
As they waited for the elevator, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī took a second to admire how sexy her little feet looked ached in them.
Her cute little toes peeked out the bottom, with their red painted toenails.
There was no doubt that his wife of twenty years was still built like a brick shit house.
Again, he remembered peering back at her in the mirror as they made love so many times through the years.
He remembered staring at those smooth golden brown legs as they kept his body locked between them.
Her muscles tensing.
Her sexy little bare feet flexing.
Normally Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī would feel his penis get hard about now, but this time it wasn’t happening.
He glanced down at his lap as it lay flat and motionless.
The elevator door opened and just before they entered Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī noticed that Shamsah Salāħuddīn‘s hand slowly crept over into mine, interlacing her fingers between mine, then led me and their daughter into the elevator.*
Later that evening I was hanging out in my large walk-in closet.
I appropriately called this place my “Man Cave.”
I sat in a padded swing chair that was suspended by a large metal stand and was surrounded by a lot of my favorite things.
“Durgesh?” I heard my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, calling from inside my bedroom.
I glanced up from my laptop where I was chatting with pals on Facebook.
“In here, Ammījān,”
The closet door opened and Shamsah Salāħuddīn stepped inside.
“I should have known you’d be hanging out in your Man Cave,” she giggled.
“You know me, even better than your daughter, as if I’m not married to her, married to you instead.” I said.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn closed the door behind her.
Her hair was still damp and slicked back from a shower.
She wore nothing but a white short satin robe.
“Well I finally got your wife to sleep. Whiny little thing,” she said, making her Hindu Son in law giggle.
“You can say that again,” I added.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled as she moved past a large poster on the wall of voluptuous women in nothing but a white bra and panty set.
The women’s deep tan was nearly same shade as her own.
“Hey, Durgesh, my son, she’s pretty. Who is that one?”
I looked up the poster.
“Umm her name’s Denise Melani.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled and pointed at the woman’s lacy, almost transparent bra.
“That’s funny; I think I have that same bra.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, I had no idea they had matching panties for it. Hmmm.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn strode past her Hindu Son in law and sat down on a small bench in front of me.
The robe gathered a bit at her waist exposing her smooth shapely legs in their entirety.
She rested both palms on the bench by her extremely beautiful gorgeous exquisite Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks, thrusting the swell of her huge boobs out just a little.
Her legs were together and her knees were slightly cocked to one side.
I could smell the sweet scent of her recently applied shea-butter and noticed that her tan legs looked nearly as smooth and smemery as the satin robe she was wearing.
“So, you must be excited for Abbū to come home finally,” I said.
“Yeah…I guess,” she answered unenthusiastically.
“It’s gonna be a big change for me, huh?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked at her Hindu Son in law and smiled.
“It’s gonna be a big change for all of us, which is kinda what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“They’re sending your Abbū home with his own bed, one of those fancy automated ones. He’ll be in a wheel chair, so he’ll need a lot of space. I thought maybe if you don’t mind, we could move the king sized bed down here and…I could share your room with you for awhile.”Shamsah Salāħuddīn explained.
My heart began to thump hard in my chest.
“You mean a bedroom to…like sleep in…together?
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled.
“Of course…that is what you do in a bedroom knucklehead.”
I smiled cunningly.
“No…umm, I don’t mind. Whatever I can do to help you, Ammījān, Shamsah Salāħuddīn.”
“I know your Abbū’s not gonna like the idea, but he has to deal with the realities of his injury. It’s just the way it has to be for now.”
I nodded, still flabbergasted, but not openly, secretly instead, by her request.
“I think I agree with you.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Are you sure you’re okay with being roommates with your Shamsah Salāħuddīn?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked with a smile.
“Yeah, of course, if she is really mine.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn placed her hands on her knees, leaning forward a little.
“You know buster…sharing a room with me might just have its advantages.”
“What kind of advantages?” I asked.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn peered up at the poster of the nearly naked woman, then back at me.
“You’ll see,” she said, with a mischievous smile.
“If Abbū’s coming home this weekend how are we gonna move all your stuff down here by Saturday?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn nodded.
“Well, tell you what, why don’t we keep you home you’re your work tomorrow and we can spend the day setting up our bedroom.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh great, now you tell me, after I did all that work for tomorrow.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled.
“Oh stop your whining, You’re starting to sound like your little wife.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, Shamsah Salāħuddīn.” I dropped calling her Ammījān even now, deliberately and significantly.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn stood up, making her heavy tits bobble beneath the loose thin covering.
“Sadly, I think your right. Stand up here and give me a hug.”
I stood and Shamsah Salāħuddīn and I embraced.
The euphoric feeling of warm braless breasts against my young Hindu chest nearly took my breath away.
“Don’t stay up too late. You and I have a busy day tomorrow,” she said.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn started out, but then stopped at the door.
“Oh, and I’ll make a deal with you…cuz I’m gonna need some closet space. I’ll let you keep the back half of the man Cave, but in return I get to doll up our bedroom.”
“Doll up?” I asked.
“You know. Some delicate lace…lots of fluffy whites and pale pinks. You’ve seen my bedroom.”
“Ohh right…okay I guess.”
“It’ll be pretty…and comfy…you’ll see,” she said with a wink, almost seductive, as she stepped out the door.
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Imām Muħammad Ħasanmanaged to smile.
“Lady Robots? Well, Durgesh, my boy, I’m not a Vedic Monotheist Hindu. I’m a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān. I don’t need lady robots at all.”
“Well, Abbū, Naåīmah herself has purchased these lady robots expressly trained to serve her. How can I remove them?”
“Okay. It’s all right I think. I’ll try to adjust myself to this new environment. How many humans, however?”
“None, Abbū, of course.”
We had just entered into a room, crowded from floor to ceiling with book films.
Three fixed viewers with large twenty-four inch viewing panels set vertically were in three corners of the room.
The fourth contained an animation screen.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan tried to keep his patience.
Yet, he himself realized he wasn’t quite successful in keeping annoyance absolutely out of his voice.
“Did my daughter kick everyone out just to leave me rattling around alone in this mausoleum, tomb, vault?”
“It’s meant only for Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me.” I said respectfully, “A dwelling such as this for one couple is customary at Ved Nagar.”
“Every couple lives here like this?”
“Every couple, almost I mean.”
“Allah Allah, I’ll be damned, my son. What the hell do you need all the rooms for?”
“It’s convenient to devote a single room to a single purpose, Abbū. This is the library. There is also a music room, a gymnasium, a kitchen, a bakery, a dining room, a machine shop, various robot repair and testing rooms, ten bedrooms―”
“Stop. Allah,who takes care of all of this?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan swung his arms in a wide arc.
“There are a number of household robots. They have been purchased by Naåīmah herself.”
“Allah, let her do whatsoever she damn pleases. I don’t need all this.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan had the urge to sit down and refuge to budge.
Well, my nonstop lovemaking to Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was no problem for him.
He was habitual now perfectly to see me fucking various extremely beautiful absolutely shameless, rather proud of it instead, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies.
Was I really Param Purush?
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wondered once more.
Do I really have my infinite bodies?
Am I really fucking infinite dazzling Musalmān Beauties in my infinite bodies?
Does our nonstop infinite ashvinātam lovemaking really produce the initial Eīshān Vaigyānic energy that makes the Multiverse?
He couldn’t believe it.
Yes, the Musalmān Beauties and many of their Musalmān parents and other relatives also back it now.
But it’s because they had their own vile vested interests behind it.
They were immensely shameless selfish persons that could do anything for their worldly benefits.
To hell with them.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wanted to see no more rooms now.
“You can remain in one room, Abbū,” I said, “if you desire so. That was visualized as a possibility from the start. Nevertheless, the customs of Ved Nagar being what they are, it was considered wiser to honor you properly to allow this house to be built―”
“Built!” Imām Muħammad Ħasan stared at me as if I’d gone mad, “Built? Damn it. You mean this is built for me? All this? Specifically?”
“A thoroughly roboticized Eīshān Vaigyānic noble deeds centered economy―”
“Yes, I see what you’re going to say. What will you do with the house when all this is over?”
“Why, I said your own daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan owns it. It’s her guest house.”
“Guest house? Hell. Does every couple here own such a guest house too?”
“Almost. The couples who are not as Shaktimān as we are have somewhat lesser standard dwellings however.”
“You want to say that the principle of Shaktipāt and Shaktixaý is really true?”
“That’s my best opinion. But I never impose my conclusions on others. You can take your own decision.”
“Well, isn’t it true that you Hindus believe in it?”
“Sure, but you aren’t a Hindu. You aren’t bound with our beliefs.”
“You mean I can refuse openly that what you Hindus believe in isn’t true? And I still can live here in Ved Nagar?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t believe it.
He had been reported Hindus were more communal than even the Jews and the Christians were.
But if it was so−
“Sure,” I smiled affably, “why not? Ved Nagar, if it’s really Ved Nagar, shouldn’t it be even more Democratic than the rest of the cities?”*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled ironically.
“We, Musalmīn, can’t even imagine such a Democracy in any Musalmān city/nation.”
“Abbū, what do you want to say? Islam isn’t a Democratic religion ab initio?”
“Well, my wives claim I’m a Pseudo Musalmān. Do you think they’re right?”
“You know better, Abbū. Your wives cuckolded you, I never did it.”
“That’s right, my boy. But why are you asking then whether I believe Islam isn’t a Democratic religion ab initio?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “You’ve yourself written an article ‘Why did Islam face a Counter revolution at Karbala?’ You know very well the present day Islam found in most of the Musalmīn today is Pseudo Islam actually propounded by Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi, don’t you?”*
I watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan gravely.
But to my immense surprise, Imām Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t actually paying attention to me or to what I was saying even.
Instead, Imām Muħammad Ħasan was watching, absolutely fascinated, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī’s still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt that was swallowing my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund ravenously.
This man couldn’t be communal ever.
If he were, he couldn’t watch extremely beautiful Musalmān ladies swallowing, so eagerly and so aggressively, my Uncut Hindu Lund in their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunts.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, even at her undisputed eighty- sixth, aggressively fucking me ravenously.
Yes, I wasn’t fucking her.
She was fucking me.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was himself watching it with his own eyes.
Well, why the hell shouldn’t she, if she wants/needs it?
Why shouldn’t it be a personal matter between Durgesh and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī themselves?
Why the hell an entire society interfere in it, as the immense hypocrites Pseudo Musalmīn do?
If Durgesh is thirty three and he still enjoys fucking an eighty five years old, yet still incredibly, wonderfully capable to enjoy sex, well experienced Musalmān lady, why should Pseudo Musalmīn interfere?
Isn’t sexual intercourse an immensely private matter?*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s mobile started ringing suddenly.
He smiled at me.
“Excuse me.” He said and replied on the mobile,
“Hello, oh, yes, I’m speaking from Ved Nagar now… Yes, that’s right. …Let me ask my son in law first.”
He looked at me.
“Durgesh, one of my friends’ daughters, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, wants to retain you. She had talked with me when I was on the way from Makkah Al Mukarramah to Ved Nagar.”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī laughed.
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan, you know Durgesh’s reputation among us Musalmān Beauties.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“Well, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd is herself twenty eight. Why the hell shouldn’t we let her decide whether she needs Durgesh’s legal advice despite his Hindu husband of Musalmān Beauties reputation, his Hindu Al Buåūlatul Muslimāt image, or not?”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was as if crestfallen.
“What? What did you say?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“You think I’m really a Communal Musalmān. I’m really a Pseudo Musalmān. Don’t you?” *
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī pushed back her still miraculously extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī glorious gorgeous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks toward my nude Hindu lap and with a great proud exhibition she once more swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick into her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“Your own Musalmān house ladies tell all of us that you are a Criminal/Criminal minded Musalmān, a terrorist Musalmān. Now, tell me if a true Musalmān can be a Criminal/Criminal minded Musalmān ever? And if it cannot be ever, what are you if you are not a Pseudo Musalmān?”
“Most of you, rather I must say almost all of you our own Musalmān house ladies spread such a drastic lie about your own Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mankind. Why? Only to get sympathy from the rest of the world.”
“And you claim it’s a lie?” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī looked at Imām Muħammad Ħasan contemptuously.
“Well, not in every case, I do agree.”
“Not in most of the cases?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t answer.
“Answer me. Not in most of the cases?” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī insisted.
“Do you agree?”
“Well, unfortunately ‘yes’.”
“Then how is it a lie?”
“Your Musalmān house ladies aren’t spreading any lie against their own mankind. They are only speaking the truth. Hell, why don’t you Pseudo Musalmīn acknowledge the truth, instead of blaming us Musalmān Beauties?”*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan stepped into the field.
He never knew whether it was a superstition, his self-hypnotism, hallucination, truth or anything else.
Yet, it was true he was watching me in my so many bodies simultaneously.
It was a hall.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s entire extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Houseladies were present there.
He couldn’t believe his own eyes.
His grandmothers, both paternal and maternal, his Ammīs, his sisters, cousins, daughters, everyone was there in nude.
I was fucking all of them in different sex positions.
Every one of them had my separate body.
Well, they could have been humanoid robots too.
Ved Nagar was an extremely roboticized City.
All his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Houseladies had encircled him among them.
Some of them were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis.
Some of them were kissing, licking and sucking it ravenously, yet sophisticatedly nevertheless.
They were giving me a marvelous blowjob.
The circles his Musalmān Houseladies made around him weren’t perfectly round.
They were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis surrounding Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
It was said that my Uncut Hindu Penis with the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Houseladies set the controls.
Their play with my Uncut Hindu Penis worked as smoothly working starting lever.
He was feeling more and more energetic among them.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t surprised.
It wasn’t anything new to him.
He was quite used to it now.
The energy, generated thus, if any, was making him more and more energetic with every passing fraction of time.
Durgesh had said him,
“Despite my utmost efforts I couldn’t make your Musalmān Houseladies not to cuckold you. They insisted you are very dangerous to humanity. Well, since I couldn’t stop your cuckolding I want you to get its entire benefits, at least. That’s the most I can do for you, sorry, Abbū.”*
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gave his wife a final kiss before boarding the military aircraft.
“I don’t want you to go.” She whimpered.
“Honey, I have to…I’m sorry.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn gazed up at him, her big green eyes full of tears.
“What if you get hurt…or get killed?”
“Babe, that’s not gonna happen…I promise you.” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said confidently.
As he boarded the plane with the rest of his battalion, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gave a final wave back at his family.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn forced a smile and waved back, her 28-year-old daughter Najmah Salāħuddīn stood by her side, holding her hand.
On the other side of her was Durgesh, her lean handsome 33-year-old son in law.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn treated me not as her Hindu Son in law in law.
She treated me as if I was her own son.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī never disappointed his wife Shamsah Salāħuddīn.
She had deliberately dropped her father’s name and was using her husband’s name instead, with her own name too, as well as with her extremely beautiful daughter, Najmah Salāħuddīn’s name.
In the face, Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked like a 38-year-old version of the Najmah Salāħuddīn.
Her body was what many would call voluptuous.
It’s not that she was fat, or even chubby for that matter.
She just had all the right curves, in all the right places.
Everyone took her to be Najmah Salāħuddīn’s elder sister, instead of her real Ammī that Shamsah Salāħuddīn actually was.
Even with his mind full of uncertainty, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī couldn’t help but admire her extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty from the door of the plane.
Her thin cotton baby-blue mini-skirt showed off the flowing contours of her extremely beautiful gorgeous exquisite Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks and left bare the golden brown glow of her long luscious Musalmān legs.
Her button up white satin stretch blouse hugged the enormity of her middle-aged yet still miraculously erect breasts.
Her sexy little feet were displayed in a pair of dainty sandals with a 4-inch heel.
A row of baby blue rhinestones lined the strap crossing her foot, right about her cute little toes with their painted toenails.
The site of her beautiful legs made Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī think about all those nights he had them wrapped around him.
All the times that Shamsah Salāħuddīn had clutched him with her silky softness while he bucked in the smooth warm flesh of her saddle.
While they did this, he would often look back in the mirror across from their bed and marvel at the way her strong legs were wrapped around his midsection, her tiny bare feet flexing and pointing towards the ceiling.
One of the other soldiers broke Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī from his trance.
“Commander Ayyūbī, we gotta move, sir.”
As the aircrafts door closed, Shamsah Salāħuddīn sniffled and wiped another tear away.
She slid her arm around her Hindu Son in law and leaned her head to one side, resting it on my shoulder.
It was nearly two month later that the roadside bomb rattled the humvee with Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī inside.
The vehicle toppled into the desert sand, its occupants SCREAMING in pain.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī only remembered a few moments before blacking out.
He hung upside down.
The door had imploded from the blast and crushed his legs.
He could feel the blood trickling from a gash in his forehead.
“Shamsah Salāħuddīn.” He muttered.
As his body went into shock, he had a sudden vision of his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, her big beaming green eyes staring into his…full of love.
He saw her silky tan legs through the mirror, clutching around him, her little feet flexing…bobbing in the air from the power of his thrusts.
Then…everything went black.*
He heard his name being called.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s eyes peered open and into the face of a military doctor.
“Can you hear me Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī? Can you hear my voice?” The man asked.
“Yes.” Came the reply.
“That’s good…that’s excellent.” The doctor smiled.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gazed around the room.
“Where am I?”
“You’re back home. You’re at the Base Hospital. You’re battalion took quite a hit. You’ve been in a coma for about six days.”
“Where’s my wife?” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī asked.
“She’s been here a lot by your side, but it’s the middle of the night. I’ll have the nurse call her right away,” the doctor said.
Thirty minutes later Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī heard the rushing CLICK of his wife’s heels moving up the hospital hallway.
She stepped into the room, her beautiful face glowing with anticipation.
“Ohhh Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.” She said in relief, rushing over and carefully embracing him on the bed.
“Hi baby.” He said, nearly in tears himself.
The early morning hours passed and after a series of scans and examinations of Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, the doctor joined Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī and his wife in Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s room.
“So doc, my legs…are the done for good?” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī asked.
“I’m afraid so, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī. The force of that blast not only did severe damage to your legs, but also your spinal column. The good news is you still have healthy blood flow, which prevented us from having to amputate. However, it’s gonna be a long road to recovery,” the doctor explained.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked absolutely devastated.
“Will he have any chance of overcoming the paralysis, with the right type of physical therapy maybe?”
“I’m afraid at this point it looks permanent. The damage was just too severe. I’m sorry.”
The doctor left the room and Shamsah Salāħuddīn seemed to stare into space as if shocked by the news.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī squeezed her hand.
“I’m sorry baby.” He said.
“You lied.” She muttered.
She glared down at him, her eyes full of tears.
“You lied to me. You promised me nothing would happen to you over there. YOU FUCKING LIED!”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn stood up, pulled her hand away from Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s and began sobbing as she stormed out of the room.
“Shamsah Salāħuddīn…Shamsah Salāħuddīn, come back. Baby I’m…”*
It was nearly 5am when Shamsah Salāħuddīn arrived back home.
They chose a modest three-bedroom ranch in a middle-class neighborhood, just across town from base.
The middle aged, yet still extremely beautiful, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, moved up the hallway and peeked in on her daughter.
She found Najmah Salāħuddīn sleeping comfortably.
A few minutes later 33 year old Durgesh turned onto my side in bed.
My eyes peeked open and I saw my Ammī in law’s curvy silhouette in his doorway.
She was leaning with her hands against the doorframe and just seemed to be hovering there…watching me.
“Ammī, everything ok with Abbū?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn slowly sashayed across the room and sat on her Hindu Son in law’s bedside.
“Thank you for staying here and watching your wife for me.”
“Oh, Of course…”
“Your Abbū’s awake, but I’m afraid his injuries are pretty extensive,” she said, then went on to explain the doctor’s findings.
“So when’s he coming home?” I asked.
“Not positive yet. The doctor said as early as a few days.”
“Wow, I can’t believe all of this has happened.” I muttered.
Tenderly, Shamsah Salāħuddīn had brushed her Hindu Son in law’s bangs out of my eyes with her long nails.
“That makes the two of us Durgesh, my dear son in law.” She said.
After a short silence, I heard my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, sniffle.
“Don’t cry Ammī. It’ll be OK.”
She rubbed my strong shoulder.
“I know sweetie. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” I asked almost scolding her as if, yet still with immense respect.
I knew she was behind her daughter’s marriage with me.
There were strong rumors that she didn’t marry her daughter with me for her daughter actually.
She was herself after me.
My marriage with her daughter was only an excuse as she conditioned the marriage with asking me to let her daughter still with her.
It meant my frequent presence there nonstop.
Even in the dim early morning darkness, I could see my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn’s misty eyes, gazing down at me.
“Can I just…lay here with you for awhile? Do you mind?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked softly.
“No, not at all, Ammījān,” I said, scotching over on my small twin sized bed.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn slipped her little feet from their heels and curled her luscious legs up on her Hindu Son in law’s bed.
I was on my back.
She slid over close to me.
Lying on her side, she rested her head on my shoulder.
“Will you hold me, please?” She sniffled.
“Sure, Ammījān,” I muttered, curling my arms around her.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
D.P. Choohā Imām Mahdī ålayhissalām
Sitting at the table with her Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd and Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was amused by their comments about her bikini.
Sure, she’d done some things with impish Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girls, but She’d never done anything with boys.
“But Bājī, Ammījān says Durgesh is sixty two.”
“Because Ammījān wants to please Durgesh, idiot.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled at Faraħ Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī teasingly.
“Don’t you yourself want to please Durgesh too, Bajjo?”
“Of course, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, of course. But my own way. Durgesh is an incurable polygamist. He has done the impossible.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled.
She deliberately changed the subject.
She knew her Faraħ Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī Bājī was only three years elder to her, but she was so obsessed with Durgesh’s Durgesh Muslimahs Sex Empire that it was the ever-favorite subject of discussion she almost always indulged to.
“Yes, of course, why do you ask?”
“Yes, but actually what do you want to say, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī?”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled patiently to her elder sister.
“Yes, they have the same father, Maulānah Salīm Nūruddīn Jahāngīr.”
“Haven’t you noticed ever? They have exactly identical names for their five daughters.”
“Isn’t it awkward somewhat?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But then why not Āsiyah Najmul Ħasan too?”
“Because her own name is Āsiyah Jahāngīr. Stupid. It’s as simple as that.”***
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī had certainly given her Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, and Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, no reason to suspect she was beaming around.
As far as Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī knew, I had also never given them any reason to think I was taking some special interest on her, and Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī hadn’t done anything to encourage me.
At least Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī hadn’t thought so, and after overhearing my talk with Waħīd Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, it was obvious that Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was barely even a girl in my eyes.
If anything, Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, seemed to pay more attention to Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī than I ever had.
For the most part, I usually ignored her; otherwise, I became flustered and agitated when we were together.
Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, just always seemed to be happy and smiling whenever I was with Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
He was busy for campaigning for his own parliamentary seat.
Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was shocked when his sources informed him,
“The High Command has decided not to give tickets to Musalmān males this for a change in such a large number as it was given in the previous election.”
Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was startled,
“Well, I can’t change my sex now, Humā Aħmad.”
Humā Aħmad smiled at Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
“I know, but you can promote ashvinātam marriages and love affairs, can’t you?”
“Of course, Humā Aħmad, of course. I’ve already done it always.”
“Yes, but in most of those cases the Hindus were Congresspersons.”
“The High Command thinks we have hurt the emotions of Hindus very much this time.”
“Well, I myself had said that so many times. It was not good to act against Hindu Saints when they were fighting for national cause.”
“You mean Baba Rāmdév?”
“Of course, why not?”
“He was campaigning against Congress and UPA government.”
“Well, wasn’t it his right as a citizen of India? We have acted blindly and provided fuel to the fire against us.”
Humā Aħmad controlled herself patiently.
Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was not actually a Congress Person in Congress.
Neither Congress nor its foreign masters wanted it ever.
East India Company lost its political power to then British Crown.
The British Crown had learnt its lesson from the grand failure of East India Company.
By never making the slightest fuss over anything Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī wore, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī thought I even liked to get Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd’s goat a little.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was fairly sure I wouldn’t have cared had Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī ran around naked.
I might’ve even gotten a kick out of it, especially if everyone would’ve freaked out.
Resuming our conversation, I said,
“Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, honey, I think all your Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, is trying to say is that you’re no longer a little girl, so you may want to be careful regarding not only what you show but to whom you show it. You’re a very beautiful young Musalmān woman now, and it’d be hard to blame me or any of your friends for noticing.”
That made Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, laugh.
“Noticing? Honey, it’d be hard to blame them for camping outside Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s bedroom window just to sing her love songs! Dear, look at her. It’s a wonder your friends aren’t begging us to let them sleep over every night. Would you blame them? I sure wouldn’t.”
When I came home and walked into the kitchen, I knew right away that something unusual was going on.
“Why is everybody sitting at the table in the middle of the day? What’s up?” I asked, smiling.
“Oh, nothing much. Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, just wanted to have a talk with me about my bikini; specifically, how it’s liable to ignite raging teenage hormones, like the ones you and my friends apparently had,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī giggled.
Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, chuckled, and Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, nearly had an aneurysm, she laughed so hard.
“Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī! Young lady, that’s your own Hindu lover you’re talking to! Be gentle with him!”
Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, and Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī shared another chuckle.
She kicked me beneath the table.
I just gave them all a blank look impishly.
“Huh? What about her hormones? Why are you guys talking about the hormones? What’d Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī do?”
“Nothing, sweetie, nothing,” said Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, “You’re fine. You didn’t do anything, and we weren’t talking about your hormones. That’s just your stepdaughter trying to be funny.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled at me.
“We were talking about you and my bikini, though. Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, apparently thinks this bikini isn’t appropriate to wear around you and her friends.”
Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, gave me a huge grin.
“Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, don’t make your friends come over there and paddle your pretty little bottom. You know good and well I never uttered a single word about your bikini being inappropriate to wear when you’re with them. I said no such thing, you big fibber.”
After returning her grin with a “Gotcha!” smile of her own, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī turned back to me.
“Okay, true, she didn’t say that, not exactly, but she did say even the girls are liable to go crazy just from seeing me in this bikini.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gave Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, a smug smirk.
She shot me a defiant grin.
“Yes, I did say that. I stand by it, too. They are all liable to go crazy from seeing you in that bikini.”
“Isn’t that the same one you wore with us just the other day?” asked I.
“Uh-huh,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said, grinning at Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, who totally rolled her eyes at me.
“You always wear that suit, don’t you? What’s the big deal?” I added, looking at Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, then at her Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, too.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gave her an even smugger grin.
With a smirk, she stuck her tongue out at me, which made me laugh.
She laughed also, and then turned to me.
“Sweetie, that’s really not what we were talking about. That was just a small comment I made. Forget I ever mentioned it.”
She turned back to Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
“Baby, you have my complete blessing to wear or even not wear whatever you want around this house. When our men finally do go crazy from watching you running around here naked, I don’t want to hear a single complaint from anyone. You can all just deal with it on your own, okay?”
“Fine by me,” I said.
“Honey, what are you talking about? Has anyone ever complained to you about Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s bikini or any of her other skimpy things, not to mention some of the outrageously sexy items you’ve been known to wear around this house? Has she complained? Had you? I don’t think so,” grinned Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, stuck her tongue out at me again, which made me laugh even harder.
While softly squeezing her hand, she said,
“Just for the record, I wasn’t complaining either. I was merely showing concern for my daughter’s modesty.” She gave me a big, mischievous grin. “I was also thinking about the fragile psyches and tightening crotches of only you horniest Hindu. Anyway, baby, that wasn’t why your Abbū and I called you in here to talk.”
“So, okay, other than my scandalous bikini, what did you want to talk about? You never did tell me.”
Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, cleared his throat.
“Yes, sweetie, as much as your Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, and I would love to continue this discussion of how ‘hot’ you look, no, that’s not why we called you in to talk. Durgesh, I’m glad you’re here. You need to hear this too.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, grabbing a seat next to Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī at the table.
“I’m afraid I’ve got a bit of good news and a bit of bad news, and it directly concerns you both.”
“Let me hear the good news first. The good news never sounds very good, not after you’ve heard the bad news,” I said.
Looking at Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, then me, Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, sighed.
“Durgesh, you know how you’ve been wanting to stay here in Kansas to be with your extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends?”
“Yeah…” I said, alert absolutely.
“Well, it looks like you’re going to get your wish. The job transfers to UCLA that your Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, and I had lined up fell through, so we’re not moving to California. We had to stay here in Kansas, so you’re good to go with your all your friends, kiddo.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was crushed.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī knew who was getting the bad news.
Just like always, a ‘talk’ meant Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī would hear something Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī wasn’t going to like.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī looked up at Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, and Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, and the disappointment on her face was obviously clear as day.
“That’s right, honey, we’re not moving to California,” Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, said.
“So no UCLA for me,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said, glumly.
I smiled and took her hands.
“Honey, now I didn’t say that, did me?”
Her heart leapt in her chest.
“But…how? What do you mean? If we don’t move, how do I still go to California?”
Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, placed her hands on top of ours.
“Honey, we know how much you want to go to California. That’s always been your dream. Just because your Abbū and I can’t come too, that doesn’t mean we’re going to keep you here. If you want to go, then go. Nothing needs to change with your plans, other than we won’t be there with you. Sweetie, you can still go to UCLA.”
“Where would I live, though?”
Our plan had been for us all to live together in a house we were going to rent from a friend of Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s.
“You’ll just have to get your own place. You could live in the dorms, or maybe we’ll see about finding you an apartment near the campus. One way or the other, we’ll work something out,” said Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
“Maybe you could find a place to share with someone,” added I.
“How would I do that, without having anywhere to stay until I found a place?”
Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, chimed in, turning to Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
“As pretty as she is, I’m not entirely comfortable with our daughter driving across the country all by herself. I’m also not thrilled with the idea of her being alone in L.A. without a safe place already set up for her. I can tell you right now, that’s not going to happen.”
When I spoke up again, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī thought I surprised them all.
“Yeah, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, that could be really bad. You know what? This sucks. I mean, sure, I’m glad I get to stay here with my extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends. Now that we can’t go, though, I’m a little worried that you’re going alone. You get to do a roadie to Cali! How cool is that? Then you get to go apartment hunting in L.A.? Eīshān, that would be awesome. Still, it’s not safe. A Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl like you can’t show up in L.A. with nowhere to stay but a motel or a youth hostel. That’s just asking for trouble. Maybe that’s okay for some skeeze like Axl Rose, but it’s not okay for you. No way.”
Stunned, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī just stared at me.
Besides my genuine concern for her, I also seemed truly excited about the idea of going to California.
An idea hit me, and Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī just blurted it out.
“Ammī? Abbū? Why don’t we have Durgesh drive with me and stay with me, at least until & find a safe place? That way I don’t go alone, and he gets to see his Musalmān girlfriends in California too. When I’m settled in somewhere, he could fly home. I’d be back in plenty of time for University, so why not? It might be fun, and it’ll definitely be good for us. It would give us some bonding time, like one last adventure together before I’m off to University. Durgesh already barely knows I’m alive. Once I’m gone, he may forget that he even has a Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī as his potential Live in Relationship Partner. I’ll come home for the holidays, and he’ll be all like, ‘Who’s this weird chick at our dinner table?'”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī kicked me, and I laughed,
“Yeah, right! Look who’s talking! Once you’re out in Cali, you’ll probably big-time all of us! You won’t even want to admit you had any family back in Hicksville, Kansas. Moment you meet your first surfer dude, we’ll never hear from you again.” I turned to her Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, and her Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, “You guys just wait and see. She’s gonna be the one to forget about us, long before we forget about her.”
“Nobody’s forgetting about anyone in this family,” said her Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, then she turned to her Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, “Honey, I think that’s a great idea, don’t you? Let’s have Durgesh drive out with her. After all, Durgesh is not only my Hindu lover living here with us to provide masculine love to me only as being old you can’t provide it to me anymore. Durgesh is Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s Hindu lover as well. This could be like their summer vacation, and I’ll feel a whole lot better about Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s safety if I know her Hindu lover himself is looking after her.”
Grinning, Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, leaned over to squeeze my biceps.
“I know I can count on my big, strong Hindu man to keep my little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl safe.”
I looked determinedly at them both.
“I won’t let anyone hurt my stepdaughter and my lover.”
I pulled Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī on my lap.
Even Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī couldn’t deny the fact that his twenty-eight years old daughter made a perfect couple with me.
He was watching clearly that my ever sensitive Uncut Hindu Penis was rock hard and seeking its place between the gorgeous Saůūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān buttocks of Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, beamed proudly at Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, who appeared deep in thought.
After a few Moments, he finally seemed to come to a decision.
“Spending that much time on your own together, do you two think you could manage not to kill each other? During most of the trip, you will have no one else to talk to, and that’s a long drive. You’ll also be sharing motel rooms, and probably an apartment too. I don’t know whether you can handle it. If you could, yes, I think I like the idea. In addition to giving you two sometime to be together, it would also give me a little ‘quality time’ with my blushing bride, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd alone. No offense, Durgesh. You enjoy your new young Musalmān love, my daughter Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, and let me enjoy my old love, my wife Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd.”
“None taken,” I smiled, making a ‘Ewwww!’ face over the idea of Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd and Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, getting frisky.
“Hey, smart Hindu Penis, what’s so bad about us having some fun, huh? We’re not dead, you know,” laughed Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd.
I just kept smiling.
Then I turned to Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
“Whaddya think, you big jerk? Can we manage not to kill each other indulging in wild savage sex nonstop infinitely?”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī winked at me,
“Sex is the ultimate poem of love, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! It’s life. It’s never death for us Musalmān Beauties and you Hindu Sukr’ts.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī responded me more eagerly.
I stared at Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, waiting.
She tried to hold my hands in, but the corners of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth began to quiver, until she couldn’t keep it in anymore.
She started giggling, then totally fell apart laughing.
Getting up in a huff, I did my best Hindu impression, exclaiming,
“Man, screw you guys! I’m going home!” Then I turned and bailed on them.
Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, was still laughing.
“Oh, c’mon, I’m sorry, dear! Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī believes you! Really, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī does!”
I turned back to give her a little smirk before bailing for good.
Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, was still laughing too.
“You guys are cruel. Just downright cruel. Poor Hindu Sexy man, even your own Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, teases me about internet porn. And you, Durgesh’s new young extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Live in Relationship Partner, you’re going to need to keep a constant eye on Durgesh during this trip. You’re a lot more mature than he is, you know. Also, you’ve at least gone away on weekend outings and things. You need to keep Durgesh out of trouble from prospective fortune hunter horny Musalmān Beauties, if you really want to enjoy your entire life with Durgesh the Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt. Probably even more than Durgesh needs to look after you. Durgesh is a multi-zillionaire too, never forget. He is infamous for his extraordinary interest in having sex with Musalmān Beauties. The greedy Musalmān husbands, fathers, brothers do deliberately use their extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houseladies, if they are really beautiful, to have some share, as the most as they can, in his utmost abundant money spread everywhere on the globe.”
I watched Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī intently.
I never thought he was so vigilant about the security of my money.
But I was wrong perhaps.
“I see.” I’d watched him carefully.
“All my multi million dollars even now can’t return my youth and active manhood on bed. It’s useless, Durgesh, my dear friend.”
“Well,” I responded Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gravely, “you certainly haven’t come to me to confess your idiosyncrasies.”
“I want your sincere friendship, at least from now on. Let’s forget what we did in the past. Let’s start afresh now.”
I kept watching Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī intently,
“I was never your enemy, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī. Your houseladies were themselves falling for me for sex and money. It was unfortunate you blamed me for it.”
He offered his right hand to me.
“Okay.” I accepted his hand, “You still are a Congressman. Let’s see how far away we can go together.”
“Well, you respect Najmul Ħasan, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I support Najmul Ħasan now openly politically, socially, in every way.” ***
“I will, Abbū. I meant what I said. She’d like for us to spend some time together as Hindu lover and Musalmān beloved, getting to know one another again. We barely even see each other anymore. She’d like for us to reconnect a little, before it’s too late. Pretty soon here, if I don’t do something about it, I won’t want to have anything at all to do with her.”
Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, took Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī by hand.
“Honey, I think you’re misreading your Hindu lover. Durgesh loves you. He thinks the world of you. Durgesh knows you’re alive, and he’ll miss you when you’re gone.” Her expression becoming much more serious, she crossed her fingers in Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s. “Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, as your Ammī, please believe me when I tell you this: I’m not as oblivious as you may think. Your Hindu lover most definitely has been noticing that you’re a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl …a very beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl. Don’t let all my bluffing fool you. That innocent song and dance of mine? ‘Isn’t that the same bikini you wore the other day?’ Baby, that was a bunch of baloney.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, was simply nodding while looking right through me.
“Durgesh notices you, sweetie. Where you’re concerned, he doesn’t miss a thing. You two just be careful out there.”
“I will, Abbū.” Still sitting on my warm Hindu male lap, and enjoying my still growing harder Uncut Hindu Penis between her magnificent Musalmān buttocks Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī promised, “ I’ll be careful with Durgesh. I mean, we will. I promise we’ll be careful.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī wasn’t quite sure what she was promising to be careful about, because I couldn’t tell what her Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, really meant.
It almost felt like I was hinting at something deeper.***
Lying on her bed, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was reading a magazine and getting ready to go to sleep when Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī heard I do my usual triple-knock on her door.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī called for me to come on in.
While I was only wearing boxers, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī only had on some tiny, light blue panties and an old, cut-off ‘Rock Chalk Jayhawk’ tank top.
That’s about as much as either one of us would ever wear to bed during the heat of a dustbowl summer.
I was of same age as she was, twenty-eight, in her opinion.
Faraħ Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī thought she was three years older to me and behaved accordingly.
So did Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
Moreover, so did even Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī too, though he knew very well, it couldn’t be the truth.
I was surrounded with the Musalmān Beauties and their relatives who behaved with me accordingly.
The environment surrounding me was so electrifying and captivating that even I had started now forgetting that I was sixty-two actually.
Even I had started to respond and behave with them as if I was myself twenty-eight indeed.
I went and sat on her bed, next to where Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī lay on her stomach.
“Can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure, darling, why not? What’s up?” Turning towards me, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī lowered her head into her arms.
“Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, I just wanted to thank you for suggesting to your Ammī, Tahajjud Kħālid bin Walīd, and Abbū, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, that I come with you. You didn’t have to do that, and I never would’ve expected it. That was super cool of you.”
Looking up, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī felt a sudden rush of affection for her utmost efficient, utmost successful, Hindu lover.
I was actually a really good guy in her opinion.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī always knew that, but Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was feeling a little sad about it.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī realized she’d been just as guilty as I was, in terms of ignoring each other somewhat.
The way we’d drifted apart, it was at least equally her fault; probably more.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gave me a warm smile.
“Durgesh darling, you know I love you. I’m sorry for teasing you, too. Of course, I want you to come with me. I meant what I said. I want us to have some time together, before we both grow up too much. I think it’ll be awesome to take this trip with you, and I’m just glad you’re willing to go. Until you piped up there in the kitchen, I never would’ve guessed that you’d want to spend even ten minutes alone with me, much less join me on a roadie to California.”
“Seriously? Do you really think Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī; I wouldn’t want to spend even ten minutes alone with you? If that’s how you feel, then I’m truly sorry. That’s definitely, not how I feel, and I don’t want you thinking that crap. Yeah, it sounds like we need to get started on some serious fence mending. Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, you should never think I don’t want us to hang out together.”
I actually put my hand on her, in the middle of her back.
“Besides,” I grinned, “Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, I have it on good authority that if I do go, I’ll get to enjoy all sorts of ‘quality time’ with the single hottest Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān chick in the whole University.”
“Oh, really? Well, I had it on good authority that you won’t even notice me, not unless Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī dyes her hair blonde and get a boob job all the way up to double F. I’m not your type, and I’m just your boring, invisible stepdaughter anyway, though we are of same age. It’s a fact you preferred my Ammījān on me. Didn’t you?”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled through her long hair.
I’d been doing the lightest of small circles in the centre of her back, and then my hand froze.
“Who told you that?”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī thought about lying to me, but something told her that it was time to be honest with her honest Hindu lover.
“I overheard you and Waħīd Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī the other day in the kitchen. You said you’re basically blind to Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, and that she’d need to be blonde, with ginormous Musalmān boobs, before you’d even notice me.”
“Well then, if you heard that, you also heard what Waħīd Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said about you.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled.
“Yes, I did. Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī admitted it was nice to hear, since Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī don’t have any experience with boys, but—”
“Yes…but. It was nice to hear, but it was sadder to hear that I’m invisible to you, and that’s all I could ever be. You can’t even see me as a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl. She’d hate to had to wear a wig and get some crazy boob job just so her own Hindu lover will know she’s alive.”
“Come on, if you heard all that, then you also heard me admit to Waħīd Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī that I couldn’t come up with a single thing about you that isn’t perfect, and that includes your boobs.”
“You said they could be bigger.”
“‘The bigger the better,’ I said, yes, but you know I was joking. You have, umm…Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, c’mon, you have great Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān boobs, my darling. You know you do. Everyone knows you do. They are not even medium, much less small. You have big boobs, and they are absolutely perfect. I wouldn’t touch your boobs.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about! That just sucks. You say they are perfect, yet you wouldn’t even touch them,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī grinned.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī continued grinning. Finally, she blushed.
“No! Not like that! Of course, I’d touch your great enticing Musalmān boobs! Wait…. Damn it, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī!”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was beaming.
Once I understood, I began to laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Miss Big Musalmān Boobs. Look, we both know that as pretty as you are, you’re completely out of her league. I could never land a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl like you. Eīshān, you’re the most popular cheerleader! Even I recognize that a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl can’t get much hotter than being the hottest cheerleader. Waħīd Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said you look exactly like Nigār Sultānah, and yeah, I guess you really do. C’mon, she was like the most smokin’ hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl in Bollywood, and you look just like her, only you’re even better.”
“Because Iī have no tattoos, and I’m not a total raving bitch,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled.
“You’re not conceited either, plus you’re hella sweet. You also have bigger, better tits, and an even hotter Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān ass. I said all that too, and Waħīd Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī agreed, remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said, smiling softly.
My hand was moving over the middle of her back again.
“Mmmm, that feels good.”
I pulled it away.
“What are you doing? I said it feels good! ‘Feels good’ doesn’t mean ‘stop doing it,’ silly. Put that hand right back where it was.”
Tentatively, since we’d called attention to it, I returned my hand to her glamorous back.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī turned her head, and…Oh, crap.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī froze, and I felt her sudden change.
Before Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī could look away, I followed her gaze to…
She’d left her closet door open about a foot, and there it was, leaning against the back wall.
Had Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī not frozen up, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī probably could’ve blown it off.
Instead, my Hindu loverly intuition instantly kicked in, allowing me to recognize that I was seeing something Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī didn’t want me to see.
Feeling mischievous, apparently, I quickly jumped up and went to her closet.
“Allah, yā Allah! Oh, God,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī moaned, covering her head with a pillow. “No, no, no,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī groaned into the bed, kicking her feet up and down.
I’d jumped back onto the bed, all full of attitude.
“What’s this, huh? ‘The Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl with the most perfect, awesome, Spankable ass ever!’ Does my dear, sweet Musalmān stepdaughter has her own perverted secret?”
Jumping off the bed, I held the trophy over my head and began doing this totally vivacious victory dance.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī was laughing at my antics, and even beginning to get over her embarrassment.
Since I was laughing too, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī figured that would be the end of it.
That’s when things suddenly became immensely worse.
‘Okay, Allah, Lord, go ahead, take me now. Put me out of my misery…please!’ Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī thought, covering her head with two pillows.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī didn’t want a single scintilla of light to be able to reach her, nor a hint of sound.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī just wanted to be swallowed whole, right then and there.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī felt a thump-thump-thump being drummed on her butt, with the left cheek receiving the heavier thumping.
I was singing that old song by Divinyls, “WAĦĪDAH SALĀĦUDDĪN AYYŪBĪ Touch Herself,” and Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī didn’t even need to look up to know I was drumming on her butt with my Uncut Hindu Lund that had brought out of my underwear.
We both were nude now.
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī finally poked her head out from beneath the pillows to grin sheepishly at me.
Of course, I was thoroughly delighted.
In fact, that might’ve been the happiest and downright goofiest she’d ever seen me.
“You cannot tell a single soul about this. You have to promise me,” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said, trying to be serious, yet giggling nonetheless.
“Tell a single soul about which thing? That you have the most Spankable Musalmān butt among your entire Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girlfriends? Well, I’m not interested in spanking it. I’d fuck this absolutely gorgeous Musalmān ass too, you have.”
Her innocent Musalmān eyes were suddenly widened,
“Allah, no, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! I doubt I can survive your great Uncut Hindu Lund into my Musalmān ass.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī giggled again,
Allah, yā Allah!
Was Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī ever enjoying herself?
“Fine!” Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī grinned. “Enjoy your little victory. I’d just lie here and be fucked by you, until you get it out of your system. Just so you know, though, I had no idea about that trophy, not until the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girls sprung it on me. It was part of their surprise going-away party for me.”
Calming down, I finally started to fuck Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī passionately, enjoying it very much, on the bed.
“Going-away party? When was this?”
Well, it was what Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī herself was dying for.
“I wanted to fuck you right in the morning, darling. But you were not in your suite.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled too.
“I’d gone to visit D.P. Choohā uncle. You know, his daughter is my friend.”
“It’s not good, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.” I said gravely, “I’ve told you so many times. We should never lower to the extent some of the ever shameless Congressmen have lowered themselves.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s perfect melodic voice was suddenly very curt.
I watched her prudently and said rather in a somewhat softened voice,
“Neither am I, Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī. Please don’t follow Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan so blindly in everything. Please stop calling me Imām Mahdī ålayhissalām and please stop calling Dig Vijay Singh, the former Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh D.P. Choohā.”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled at me teasingly.
“I’ve told you so many times myself Durgesh. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan hasn’t given Dig Vijay Singh, the former Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh now his famous name among Musalmīn and most of the intelligent persons D.P. Choohā.”
“I know but Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has approved it. Didn’t she?”
Waħīdah Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled impishly.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam