Al Nādir Al Ghāzī watched Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī disappear into the Masjid.
A good girl, this one, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī thought, and brave for so young.
She was nineteen only, wasn’t she?
They were lucky to have her enlisted in their cause.
He wondered what she was doing in the Masjid right now.
I smiled at Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī in the Masjid.
“You are right, sir. Your stepson is actually a terrorist.” Nineteen years old, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, reported to me.
None could believe she was a journalist and hated terrorism very much.
“You know your Ammī and I had a close relationship.” I said gravely.
“Am I your daughter?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked impatiently.
Al Qahar Al Īmān smiled.
“Durgesh is incapable to father any daughter. Don’t worry.”
“Would you still let your daughter, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, marry that pig terrorist?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked Al Qahar Al Īmān.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār wants to cuckold him to Durgesh and herself.” Al Qahar Al Īmān smiled, “Moreover, you need a supporter and friend in the enemy’s camp.”
“I admire your Ammī.” I said.
“Yet you couldn’t keep her with you.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī said bitterly, “My Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, left her husband for you, and…”
“For me?” I interrupted her, “Who told you?”
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī hesitated somewhat.
“Didn’t you both love each other?”
“We do. We still love each other, but your Ammī is fighting against Muslim terrorism. She wants to remain in the enemy’s camp.”
“Leading a life of celibacy?”
“Certainly not. She is a lot smarter than even you think of her.” I smiled, “She pretends that she is working on me to expose me.”
“To expose you?”
“Sure, she is writing a biographical book on me. She wants to blast my ever unconquerable image of a Profound Multiversalist Humanist and the ultramodern Messiah of the entire womankind.”
“And they believe her?”
“That’s where your Ammī’s skills come to play the utmost critical role. It wasn’t easy to convince them. Yet she succeeded.”
“How do you know?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked gravely unemotionally.
I looked at her gravely myself.
What did Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī want to say?
Did she suspect her own Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, too?
Was the nineteen years old miraculously intelligent young woman doubting my so vast experience with Musalmān Womankind?
Well, why not?
Even I wasn’t all knowing, Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun.
Lā ilāh illillāh.
Ekam Sadviprā bahudhā vadanti.*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s hands remained at rest on the keyboard of his HVSI laptop.
He contemplated the last sentence he had written.
There were only few educated persons among mujāhidīn.
Among mujāhidāt this number is almost zero.
Entire efforts to kill Narendr Modī have always backfired.
Now Narendr Modī is the 15th Prime Minister of India.
The more he thought of Narendr Modī, the more confirmed he was that Durgesh was himself Narendr Modī in his one more subtle body.
No one believed him.
They even laughed at him.
Yet, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was still confident.
It was powerful enough to cap the opening section of his book, a provocative, a confrontational sentence that would surely bring a million readers excitedly into the heart of his sensational story.
Yet, perhaps, as things stood, it promised too much.
His book ‘Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan: Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā’ was still a best seller.
No one had approved it before publication.
But now it was a blockbuster in sales.
Yes, there are so many critics too.
But the more the book was criticized the more its sale was increased.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is an established writer now, perhaps even more popular than Durgesh himself now.
Durgesh has destroyed his entire career as a writer himself knowingly.
He is more devoted to his Family Movement now than he is devoted to anything else.
The moron is crazy to reestablish family everywhere.
His organization of similar morons, HVSI, is no doubt now ruling the entire creations actually.
Yet, Durgesh is only its Lifelong Chairman, nothing more.
Considering the evidences that he was providing in his book ‘Narendr Modī or Durgesh himself?’, the categorical and authoritative ring of that sentence might invite a subsequent letdown and a reaction of antagonism from his book’s next reader.
And that might be fatal.
Thoughtfully, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī weighed the possibility of modifying the last sentence, in fact the last paragraphs:
‘I would never claim that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā.
I have listed my entire arguments supporting my view in my concerned book ‘Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan: Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā’ already.
Similarly, I would never claim that Narendr Modī is really Durgesh himself in his another subtle body.
I am enlisting my entire arguments why I do think so.
Peruse them carefully, I request.
Think on them.
And then take your own decision for yourself.
Is there any solution to this dilemma fairer?’*
A year ago, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī’s Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, had been press secretary for Durgesh, the Mayor of Ved Nagar.
She had given up her job as managing editor of the HVSI Times and moved to the Mayor House.
“It is not exactly the Front Page,” Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams said ruefully, smiling somewhat, “But I like being on television and meeting rich socialites. Now I’ve got to leave you for an hour.”
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī pointed at her beautiful Ammī, still immensely beautiful despite her thirty eight running.
Almost entire ladies that had sex with Durgesh did never appear of their age.
Durgesh himself looked anywhere between twenty eight to thirty five, never anymore.
Imāmzādi Ħumayrah Qāzī was the most wonderful of them.
She was eighty eight years actually, twenty three years older than Durgesh even.
Yet she never appeared more than sixty.
Was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan correct in her Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot vaginal rheostat theory changing lines of force with every penetration?*
Bābarah Åālamgīr was immensely pleased that ultimately she had gotten Durgesh inside her.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan guided her step by step how to do it.
“Durgesh is an ever over moral damnfool.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had grimaced.
Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled.
“I do understand. But we need him.”
“That’s right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said, “He still opposes the cuckolding of terrorists, criminals and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn while they are still killing the innocent non Musalmīn, and even true Musalmīn, in the name of Islam.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr watched her mentor spellbound.
She could not forget, however:
On Nargis Sunil Dutt street, in Bājī Rāo Mastānī Nagar, facing the wall of the old city, sat a large luxurious house.
It belonged to Al Åbd Al Mustafā.
He was the father of the owner of the Al Mustafā Shipping Company.
His daughter was not only the owner of the Al Mustafā Shipping Company, she was the owner of the most of the taxicabs of the island as well.
The island was one of the utmost infamous Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Islands.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr waited anxiously as Muħammad cleaned up and changed into dry clothing after his swim ashore.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr both knew that the appearance of Al Muħammad on Modern Democratic Årabia meant a top level mission for Al Fataħ Al Islam.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s policy had been adamantly to cuckold almost every Musalmān to his over ardent Musalmān wife and Durgesh/her Hindu lover.
Neither Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nor her ever insistent ever persistent anti-Muslim Young lady Musalmān Brigade was ever ready to listen to anything reasonable from any Musalmān whosoever.
They had immense undisputed faith in Dr. Ålī Sina’s claim that every Musalmān was either a terrorist or a potential terrorist.
Despite Durgesh’s open disagreement with Dr. Ålī Sina in this matter, and in so many other matters too, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade never stopped to cuckold Musalmīn to themselves and Durgesh.
Modern Democratic Årabia wasn’t actually democratic only.
It was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade’s obsession too, under different rational and humane disguises.
Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi had never succeeded in disgracing Islam as much as in Modern Democratic Årabia.
Al Fataħ Al Islam was an organization devoted to the exodus of Musalmīn from Modern Democratic Årabia.
The emigrated Musalmīn thus were not being settled to any particular country.
They were just fleeing away from Modern Democratic Årabia to protect their dignity, manhood, self-respect, honor and their religion as well.
Modern Democratic Årabia too had its religion Islam mostly but constitutionally it was a secular country now, as India was.
The Musalmīn that opposed her new secular constitution were warned by Modern Democratic Årabia government to decide to obey the constitution or be punished according to the new secular penal code of Modern Democratic Årabia.
Even Durgesh refused to interfere in the internal affairs of Modern Democratic Årabia.
“It’s an internal affair of Modern Democratic Årabia. I haven’t any moral, legal or political right to comment on it.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade smiled on it, triumphantly.
Al Fataħ Al Islam was helping smuggle Musalmīn to anywhere they chose to immigrate.
However, as fast as the Modern Democratic Årabia government caught the Al Fataħ Al Islam boats trying to run the blockade the Musalmān muhājirīn, refugees actually, would be transferred to the detention camps.
Al Muħammad, in a fresh change of clothing, entered the room and nodded to Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
Al Muħammad and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr were intimate friends for a long time.
Yet, both of them didn’t trust Al Åbd Al Mustafā blindly ever.
The risk was not the lives of the Musalmīn.
It was their cuckolding.
That was the very thing they were running away from.
They played a role of formality in front of Al Åbd Al Mustafā.
After all, Al Åbd Al Mustafā was only a sympathizer, not a member of their organization, Al Fataħ Al Islam.
Al Muħammad got right to the point.
“Headquarters has sent me here to stage a mass escape from the detention camps. The reasons are obvious to all of us. What is your opinion, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr?”*
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr watched Al Muħammad gravely.
“She is absolutely anti-Muslim. Even her dream Hindu man, Durgesh, is against the cuckolding of anyone, but…”
“I don’t believe.” Al Muħammad said harshly.
“Is it correct that even you are cuckold to your wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir and Durgesh?”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr smiled forlornly.
“It was the only way to survive then. Not only me, even Imām Ůmar Fārūq, Muħammad Ůsmān and Ålī Abī Tālib too have been cuckolded, not to their immensely righteous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives only, but to their entire Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful.”
“Why the hell you, all the four, didn’t opt for Hijrat already, instead?” Al Muħammad was furious.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never allowed. She called us four her Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn. Ridiculed and disgraced us tremendously.”
“And you couldn’t do anything?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was disgracing our Musalmān houseladies in front of us. We had to protect them.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said helplessly.
Al Muħammad paced the room thoughtfully.
He had been sent to Al Riyāz months before by the secret army of Al Wahābīs.
It was a shame that Musalmīn were still fighting desperately for their own particular denomination, instead of fighting for entire Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was too smart to be defeated.
“She is the lady Iblīs personified.” Al Åbd Al Mustafā had said, “Perhaps Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi himself has come again as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan now.”
“They call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā herself reincarnated.”
“She has learned black magic from Durgesh.” Muħammad Ůsmān had commented.
Al Muħammad had watched them sympathetically.
The morons didn’t even know there isn’t any black magic anywhere.
Allah, how superstitious his Ummat-e-Muslimah is.
No doubt the utmost smart, utmost cunning, young Musalmān lady, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is successfully cuckolding these damn fools to their Musalmān womankind and Durgesh.
Yazīd Malåūn had carefully watched the Musalmīn never get proper education.
Al Muħammad and dozens of the other members of Al Fataħ Al Islam smuggled themselves into the compounds of refugees without the knowledge of the forces of Modern Democratic Årabia, or so they thought.
They set up the schools, hospitals and Masājid, built sanitation facilities, and organized light industry.
Some of the refugees, however, turned back.
They were hopeless people who cared for normalcy and facilities more than their own dignity self respect and freedom.
Perhaps Durgesh was right.
Perhaps there were really some persons who are immensely under evolved that could be classified as ‘Vixu Jantavah’, ‘worms among the people’.
Despite every effort from Al Fataħ Al Islam the refugees were so afraid of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade that they refused outright to fight against them and Modern Democratic Årabia.
They still said that the former rule on Saåūdī Årab was worse than Modern Democratic Årabia.*
Was it really?
Al Muħammad couldn’t contradict it truthfully.
If even a few of the Musalmīn preferred even their cuckolding instead of choosing to live in an Islamic country, it was certainly the time to think how Islamic the so called Islamic countries were.
It reported the horrific truth.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade was absolutely correct.
Most of the present day Musalmīn were not Musalmīn actually.
They were Pseudo Musalmīn.
Their countries were not Islamic countries.
They were Pseudo Musalmīn countries too.
Al Muħammad was horrified for a moment to realize it.
Yet, he knew very well, not to surrender to the truth even if you know it.
The rest of the Pseudo Musalmīn would kill you as they were killing the non Musalmīn.
It wasn’t Islam.
It could never be.
It was really the bloody Årab Imperialism as Anwar Sheikh claimed.
Nevertheless Al Muħammad wasn’t a damn fool to sacrifice his precious life for something called truth.
He wanted to survive.
Who the hell doesn’t?
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr, with the other members of Al Fataħ Al Islam, gave military training to several thousand men and women among the muhājirīn.
They used sticks as rifles and rocks as grenades for the training.
They did it, because it was the only thing they could do.
However, the continuous constant triumphs of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade on the traditional mujāhidīn, had raised a doubt in their hearts whether Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is actually correct?
Is a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt really a rheostat and a Stavak Uncut Hindu Lund is really an electro bar magnet that cuts lines of forces while penetrating a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt?
Is Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Science really true?
Al Muħammad must know better.
Yet, how was it possible Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan won Modern Democratic Årabia only by fucking Durgesh?
If Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Science isn’t true, how Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is never defeated?
How Narendr Modī won India?
There are some questions to be answered.
Musalmīn were always a military power.
They defeated Christians, Jews, and Persians.
But Hindus were never defeated fully.
If the military power was the ultimate power really as the Musalmīn still believed, why Hindus were ever unconquerable?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade claim it’s Hindus’ Vajr.
Hindus’ male genial organ that is converted into Vajr when Hindus meditate, offer Stavans.
Allah, who the hell could believe in this utter nonsense?
Even if a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān woman converts her Musalmān Cunt into a vaginal rheostat, why not a Musalmān penis similarly becomes an electro bar magnet?
Why an Uncut Hindu Penis is needed instead?
It’s utter nonsense.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an anti-Muslim.
So is her Young lady Musalmān Brigade too.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā was only twenty two years of age.
Yet he was the commander of Al Fataħ Al Islam here.
If the Modern Democratic Årabia government had gotten wind that there were the members of Al Fataħ Al Islam inside the camps they kept quiet about it.
They were still guarding from the outside.
They didn’t have any desire to go into the hate riddled compounds.
“How many people do you want to escape?” Al Åbd Al Mustafā asked.
“Three hundred, more or less.”
Al Åbd Al Mustafā shook his head.
“We have a few tunnels dug but those lead to the sea. As you know the main problem we have is our people themselves don’t want to leave their own homes. They lack jazba-e-hijrat very much.”
“That’s right,” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade call us terrorists outright, instead of mujāhidīn. Even our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies are with them, not with us. Durgesh never wants to cuckold even us, even if we kill, massacre, the so called innocent persons.”
“Innocent my foot,” Al Muħammad shouted, “They have successfully replaced our pro Sunni pro Wahābī administration with their so called Modern Democratic Årabia administration. Modern Democratic Årabia doesn’t discriminate any more among Sunnis, Shiås, Aħmadīs etc. All the denominations of Islam are living in Modern Democratic Årabia now entirely legally.”
“They are imitating Hindustan.” Al Åbd Al Mustafā laughed ironically, “The Musalmān womankind now don’t have her ideal in Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Her ideal is Durgesh now.”
“They claim we are wrong.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “Durgesh himself respects Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam, Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn, Saħābah karām razī Allāhu Tålā ånahum ajmaåīn. Durgesh himself is a Muslim. He has a Hindu father and Wahābī Musalmān mother.”
“Then why doesn’t he support us Musalmīn for our Al Jihad fil Islam fī sabīlillah?” Al Muħammad shouted.
“Instead,” Al Åbd Al Mustafā laughed sarcastically, “his Young Musalmān lady Brigade declares Al Jihad fil Durgesh fī sabīlillah.”
“It was not what Durgesh wanted himself.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr explained gravely, “Durgesh is against it. It’s one of the Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
He was still young.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb smiled to himself.
No, even Vedic Monotheist Hindus are not as ultramodern as Ǻlī Al Wahāb himself and his friends were.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thinks she is using Ǻlī Al Wahāb.
Well, let her.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was still fucking Ǻlī Al Wahāb in his utmost feminine Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Life is still stretched before Ǻlī Al Wahāb as a vast unchartered field, even its horizon lost in the distance.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb had been in Ved Nagar for ten years now.
The time had passed expediently.
Long Live Imām Muħammad Ħasan that dreamed of Ved Nagar.
The life anywhere else would have been immense problematic.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was confident they would succeed eventually ultimately.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb had faith in Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
Muħammad Ůsmān’s ass was not as feminine before as it was now.
The ten years that passed have brought a miraculous change in their bodies.
None believed Muħammad Åbdullah when he told them that Assalāt, Salwāt, converted even a masculine body into a superb female body.
“It’s an anti-Islamic propaganda from the anti Musalmīn.” Imām Ůmar Fārūq had said, “For more than thirteen hundred years of Ummat-e-Muslimah we Musalmīn offered Panjvaqtah Namāz, five times Assalāt, Salwāt, yet our masculine bodies were never converted into female bodies.”
“How do you know?” Ǻlī Al Wahāb smiled bitterly.
“What do you mean?” all the three, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, Imām Ůmar Fārūq and Muħammad Ůsmān thundered at Ǻlī Al Wahāb simultaneously.*
Ǻlī Al Wahāb was prudent enough not to indulge in a harmful discussion with Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, Imām Ůmar Fārūq and Muħammad Ůsmān ever.
He knew better.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, Imām Ůmar Fārūq and Muħammad Ůsmān were not basically females in their male bodies, but Ǻlī Al Wahāb was.
He never enjoyed his male duties to his wife, Al Fātimah Al Wahāb.
He was very glad when his wife cuckolded him.
He always thought it was his actual dream life.
He loved his third position in the Triple of his wife, Al Fātimah Al Wahāb, Durgesh and himself.
He bubbled with pride when Durgesh fucked his wife Al Fātimah Al Wahāb keeping her on his nude Hindu lap, sitting on a chair.
His wife proudly used Ǻlī Al Wahāb as her pedestal, her footrest.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb loved it.
He himself too was proud of it.
Suddenly a sound penetrated Ǻlī Al Wahāb’s consciousness.
“To hell with Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah…We oppose Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah… To hell with Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah…We oppose Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah…”
It was rather soft and distant, but it brought him back to the present.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb’s legs involuntarily swerved and brought him over the low rise to the University Field.
It was used for ashvinātam sex calisthenics, sports and student oratory.
Despite immense oppositions and demonstrations from Pseudo Musalmīn, Muħammad Åbdullah had gradually, eventually, ultimately had cooperated with Ǻlī Al Wahāb in establishing a Triple University in Ved Nagar too.
He had ultimately managed to get the permission from the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI.
In the middle of the Field was a moderate sized crowd of students.*
They were chanting enthusiastically.
On a platform was someone, Ǻlī Al Wahāb didn’t recognize.
He was someone with a loud voice and a swaying rhythm.
It wasn’t Muħammad Yazdānī however.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb had never met Muħammad Yazdānī in person.
Yet, he had seen Muħammad Yazdānī on holovision a number of times here at Ved Nagar.
Ved Nagar was really a Dream City.
It had so many scientific gadgets there the rest of the utmost ultramodern cities too couldn’t afford to have.
Ved Nagar was a city of multi-millionaires at least.
There were too many billionaires, trillionaires, and zillionaires even.
The other cities didn’t have them in so many numbers.
They said Muħammad Yazdānī might destroy what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had achieved with so nonstop tremendous efforts.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb never believed it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated.
That’s she had such a tremendous nonstop success.
An ordinary Musalmān Beauty couldn’t achieve what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated, had done.
After all, how many such accomplished Musalmān Beauties Ummat-e-Muslimah had in its entire history, entire Al Tārīkħ Al Islam?
Yet, Ǻlī Al Wahāb paid close attention to Muħammad Yazdānī whenever Muħammad Yazdānī was on holovision.
Muħammad Yazdānī was large and smiled with vicious camaraderie, vicious comradeship.
He had thick sandy hair and light blue eyes.
His father was a South African Hindu and his mother was a Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty.
This speaker was however small, if anything─ thin, wide mouthed, dark haired and loud.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb wasn’t listening to the words, though he did hear the phrase ‘power from the females to males’ and many voiced shout in response.
Fine, thought Ǻlī Al Wahāb, but just how does Muħammad Yazdānī intend to win the great Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated?
Is Muħammad Yazdānī serious?*
Ǻlī Al Wahāb was at the outskirts of the crowd now.
He looked around to find out if there was someone, he knew.
He spotted Imrān Hāshmī.
He was Ǻlī Al Wahāb’s fan.
“Imrān,” Ǻlī Al Wahāb called out.
“Sir, Ǻlī Al Wahāb,” Imrān Hāshmī stared at him for a moment and recognized him with some effort.
Imrān Hāshmī had almost never seen Ǻlī Al Wahāb not being fucked in his ass by either Shankar Mahāpralayankar or Rājesh Rājpūt.
One or two times even while Ǻlī Al Wahāb was not enjoying either Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Cock in his ass or Rājesh Rājpūt’s, he was licking his Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān Houseladies’ Musalmān Cunts while Durgesh was still fucking them or had just fucked.
Imrān Hāshmī couldn’t remember, when in the recent past he had seen Ǻlī Al Wahāb alone, in this way.
He trotted over.
“Did you come to listen to this Pseudo Musalmān?”
There was immense hatred in Imrān Hāshmī’s voice for the Pseudo Musalmīn.
Despite the strict laws of never interference in other communities’ life, in Ved Nagar, the Dream City, the Muslim denominations had never stopped it altogether.
Every now and then, they were being punished by the Ved Nagar Administration, severely, for it.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb responded even more scornfully.
“Nonsense, I didn’t come here for any purpose but to find out what the noise was. Who the hell is he?”
Imrān Hāshmī smiled cheerfully, yet somewhat astringently too.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim. He is speaking for Muħammad Yazdānī.”
“I hear that,” Ǻlī Al Wahāb said bitterly as he listened to the chant again.
It began each time Muħammad bin Qāsim made a telling point, apparently.
Ǻlī Al Wahāb kept asking,
“But who the hell is this Muħammad bin Qāsim? I don’t recognize his name. What department is he in?”
“Because he’s not a member of the Durgesh Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā Triple University, sir. Muħammad bin Qāsim is one of Imām Muħammad Yazdānī’s mujāhidīn.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb was more furious now.
The Couple bastards were always adamant to interfere with the Triples.
Did the Triples ever interfere in the life of the Couple bastards?
The Triples were always law abiding.
That’s why even Muħammad Åbdullah, the Commissioner of Police here at Ved Nagar, supported them in the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI.
The Triples were not only gays now.
They included the Bisexuals, gays, Cuckolds and Lesbians as well.
Now even the nudists and feminists were also joining the Triples.
“He isn’t a member of the Durgesh Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā University? Then who the hell has permitted him to speak here? He hasn’t any damn right to speak here without a permit. Does he have one, do you suppose, Imrān Hāshmī?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir, Kħalīfatul Musalmīn, Amīrul Mominīn.”
“Well then, let’s find out.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb started into the crowd.
Imrān Hāshmī caught his sleeve.
“Don’t start anything, Kħātimul Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn razī Allāhu tålā ånahunn.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s got goons with him.”
“For rough stuff, in case anyone tries anything funny.”
“That’s the main problem with these Pseudo Musalmīn bastards.”
“I beg your pardon, Kħātimul Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūn razī Allāhu tålā ånahunn.”
“The Pseudo Musalmīn bastards have never understood it’s not the reality of 1400 years ago anymore. The violence was effective only then. Not now any more. The humankind is living now in a far more advanced Multiverse.”
“That’s right.” Imrān Hāshmī chuckled, “But Kħātimul Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūnrzn is forgetting that’s why Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself, reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has succeeded on the bastards Pseudo Musalmīn and still succeeding.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb calmed down.
“That’s right. But it doesn’t mean we should keep them ignorant still now.”
“We can’t change them until and unless they don’t want to change themselves. We have Democracy here, ultimately, after all.”
Ǻlī Al Wahāb didn’t pay any attention to what Imrān Hāshmī said.
He was too irritated.
There were seven young men more behind Muħammad bin Qāsim, the speaker.
They were spaced rather widely, legs apart, arms folded, scowling.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched me gravely.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know why I am against Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“Never, Abbū Imām, never.” I said with profound gravity myself, “I am vowed to establish actual Democracy everywhere because that’s what Hinduism/Ved, True Islam, Christianity, every religion originally wanted to establish, until its selfish followers hadn’t distorted it.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched me somewhat fascinated.
“Yet,” I said, “I want to know who will furnish the difference of opinion this afternoon.”
“Ǻlī Al Wahāb sometimes requires a little more explanation than some of the others. He’s intensely practical. You know all of them personally yourself, don’t you?”
“Sure,” I smiled, “I know all of them personally myself. But their behaviour with me is not necessary to be their behaviour in the directors’ meeting of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands.”
“You are right. Sorry, I forgot.”
“Never mind. I can’t afford to forget it.” I said, “Ǻlī Al Wahāb? Hardheaded?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched me scrutinizing.
How shrewdest, how resourceful this Hindu son in law of him is!
What a pride!
He respects Imām Muħammad Ħasan even more than Imām Muħammad Ħasan respects himself.
He is only the Mayor of Ved Nagar ostensibly.
However, Ved Nagar isn’t confined to India only.
The boundaries of Ved Nagar are actually infinite.
The whole Param Vyom, the whole Absolute Space even, comes under Ved Nagar.
However, it doesn’t come under India.
“Hardheaded?” I repeated my question.
“You might call it that.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan answered me at length.
“And who is opposed to Ǻlī Al Wahāb?”
“No one. No one at all.”
“But Ǻlī Al Wahāb does occasionally express himself as having what you have just referred to as a difference of opinion?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched me gravely.
“With whom does Ǻlī Al Wahāb usually differ?”
“Well, of course,” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said, “wherever there are strong personalities there is an inescapable tendency for different viewpoints to clash.”
I nodded smiling niftily.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched me watchful, vigilant.
He wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing.
Durgesh was too deep for Imām Muħammad Ħasan too.
In fact, even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan admits to Imām Muħammad Ħasan in privacy with her Abbū Imām, Durgesh is too deep for her too.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan went on,
“Ůsmān bin Åffān is, in many ways, temperamentally opposed to Ǻlī Al Wahāb, and they are two largest stockholders after me and Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.”
“Who else is on the board?”
“Imām Ůmar Fārūq.”
“My son, I want you to understand clearly before you make the deal with me that, my stock you are purchasing from me, does not represent a controlling interest in the corporation. Not by any manner of means. You have to purchase my entire stock for it that I’m not even authorized to sell even to anyone under the bylaws of the corporation.”
“Abbū Imām,” I smiled gracefully, “you’ve told me that already. Please try not to repeat what you have already told me.”
“Sorry, I felt it my duty to remind you it once more.”
“It’s alright. It’s crystal clear. You are the president but these other people too have large holdings.”
“That’s right.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled in the manner he was clearly relieved now.
“I understand. Never mind. Nevertheless, isn’t it a fact that if I vote with one of the other large blocks of stock, it does make a controlling interest?”*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan looked at me, still trying to understand what I was actually after.
“Well, yes and no.”
“What do you mean?” I asked smiling unwearyingly.
“Well, it’s rather difficult to work out a combination of that sort because the situation varies from time to time and person to person. There are essentially no differences of opinion except on minor matters. We are engaged in a constructive real estate development on Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands for Hindus and Musalmān Beauties who hate Pseudo Musalmīn and love Hindus. The problem is their relatives also come to the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands with them.”
“Relatives? What the hell can they do? They don’t own any real estate there.”
“They help each other.”
“The Brāhmañ and Savarñā wives of Hindus hate their Musalmān co wives.”
“They are free to divorce their Hindu husbands if they can’t adjust with their Musalmān co wives, aren’t they?”
“Sure, it’s the law.”
“Try to understand, my son. The law and practice differ practically.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Durgesh Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq
Durgesh Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had never thought of herself as a very sexual being.
She thought she was just like every other person on the planet.
She never thought that touching herself was dirty or wrong.
Pleasure couldn’t be dirty.
Her explorations of her body were all very innocent.
If it felt good, she did it.
However, it wasn’t long before Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq realized the rest of the world didn’t see her sexuality the same way she did.
It wasn’t long after her 18th birthday, and she had been on the couch with her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, and her new Hindu father, me; watching some inane little ashvinātam romantic drama.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq loved the new trend that Musalmān Beauties were now either having clandestine Hindu lover(s), cuckolding their otherwise tyrant and even terrorist Musalmān Husbands boldly, joining bold clubs like Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club and Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, and boldly fighting, even defeating successfully the anti human Musalmīn.
Yes, every Musalmān is not terrorist or tyrant.
But their percentage as compared with the Musalmān husbands was immensely negligible.
The grand thing Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq loved in Islam was its original idea of justice in married life.
If there wasn’t justice, go ahead and divorce.
Even Hinduism didn’t like divorce.
It preaches Satītv and Pātivratý instead.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq smiled ironically.
Satītv and Pātivratý?
There should be a limit, after all, even to every deceit.
The Hindus are better but not to the extent to exercise Satītv and Pātivratý.
Slipping her hand down, she gently rubbed herself.
It took a few moments before her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, realized what she was doing, but when she did all hell broke loose.
That night, her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, had cried and screamed at Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq and asked her where she had learned to do that.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq could not understand what she had done that was not natural.
Why even her own Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, is acting so backward and so unscientific?
She is not a backward Musalmān lady.
Zaynab bint Mazh’un was a PhD.
She has boldly said to her duly mankūħ Musalmān Husband, Imām Ůmar Fārūq, she didn’t love him anymore.
He isn’t Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūqrzu.
He was only named after the great personality.
Only because he has named his children after the historical names of the children of Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūqrzu, he doesn’t become Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūqrzu himself.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, was sure some evil person had molested and defiled her innocent daughter.
How her ultra modern Ammī could be so irrational?
However, a quick session with a therapist assured Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, that it was natural exploration and that she shouldn’t make Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq feel guilty for learning about her body.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, relayed this begrudgingly to her daughter, adding in the fact that touching yourself was something you did in private and never in front of other people.
However, it was clear that her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, didn’t approve of such behavior whether in public or private.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq realized that day, that nothing would really be the same between her and her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un.
They might have the same DNA, but they were different people in fundamental ways that would never really allow them to be very close.
After all, she had inherited her genes from her father, Imām Ůmar Fārūq, too.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un’s disapproval was practically tangible in the air.
So Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq taught herself how to please her body in secret.
A stroke here, a gentle pinch there; Masturbating became an art form to her and she practiced it religiously.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was sure Islam was not against genuine physical needs.
She could bring herself to the brink and back off until finally allowing herself the sweet release of an orgasm to crash over her tremendously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
As Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq matured, her own hands began not to be quite enough.
Her tremendously stunning, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab, Wahābī Musalmān body ached to be touched by someone else.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq shivered.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, would never approve of it.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had grown up looking lovely.
She looked like sin wrapped up in a blanket of wickedness.
She resembled Nigār Sultānah.
Her full lips were always stuck in an unconscious pout, but they turned up at the corners like she knew a secret that she wasn’t telling anyone.
Her nose was considered classically beautiful, and her ice blue eyes led many people to call her stunning.
Hers was a face that was not easily forgotten.
Silly little 18 year old Hindu boys became her new tools of masturbation.
She realized at a fairly young age that she had a strange ability to control boys.
Often she didn’t even need to use sex outright, the promise of it was usually enough to manipulate a man to her needs.
Just like with her own explorations, the fumbling ministrations of teenage Hindu boys quickly became old and it wasn’t long before she no longer felt satisfied by a quick trip in the back of my car.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq began finding new ways to get her heart racing.
It probably all harkened back to that first day she was caught by her parents.
She would curl up on the couch with her parents, wrapped up in a blanket watching a movie.
Half an hour into the movie, she would slip her hand below her waistband and begin to masturbate.
The threat of discovery lent a dangerous air to those episodes and she never had trouble bringing herself to an earth shattering orgasm.
She was always careful to minimize her movement trying to control the undulation of her hips as that wonderful pressure built up inside her.
She didn’t think her parents had noticed her new daring behavior until one particular night.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was watching a movie with me while her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, was off at some business dinner with her female colleagues.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, was always a leader among even learned Musalmān Beauties.
After all, she was a PhD.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was curled against my side.
I had put my arm around her and was gently rubbing her arm.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq hadn’t planned on one of her little escapades that night, but the feel of my fingers on her skin convinced her otherwise.
Slowly she applied some pressure.
She released and did it again.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq gently rubbed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān excellent, exquisite, clit with two fingers, stroking it until she could feel her juices pooling in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab excellent, exquisite, Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips.
Her breathing slowed and she tried to keep her composure.
This was the first time, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had masturbated curled up against me, and the naughtiness of the physical contact was making her more aroused than she’d ever been before.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq didn’t even realize it but her hips started to rock back and forth against her own hand.
Her breathing quickened until she was panting softly.
She didn’t even notice my other hand slip below the blanket until it covered her own hand.
“Stop.” I ordered her curtly.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was dumbfounded.
She realized I had known what she was doing and jerked her hand away automatically.
My hand dropped down to where hers had been and the accidental brush of my fingers on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān excellent, exquisite, clit sent her orgasm through Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq.
She knew very well, I fuck immensely beautiful Musalmān Beauties, of every age group, almost 24x7x365.
Riding out her orgasm with my Hindu hand trapped against her.
Once realized what Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had done, she parted her extremely smooth Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān thighs and looked up at me sneakily.
She was expecting screams and yelling like what her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, had done to her before.
But I knew it was not benevolent for her.
Once experienced sexual pleasure it is not easy to control oneself.
It is one thing to preach somebody and it’s quite another thing to follow it yourself.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was surprised to see that while my cheeks were stained pink, I was looking intently at the TV, avoiding all eye contact with her.
“I’m sorry Durgesh. Please, don’t tell it to Ammījān ever.” Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq whimpered, tears coming unbidden to her eyes.
She bribed me grabbing my Uncut Hindu Prick.
I looked down at her tenderly and cupped her face, brushing the tears away with my thumb.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I told her, kissing her on the forehead. “We’ll just pretend that never happened.”
With that, I turned back to the movie.
I didn’t tell her to leave my prick.
It was immensely hard as soon as Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq grabbed it.
I thought she would leave it now.
But Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq misunderstood that I had accepted her bribe.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Prick significantly.
I smiled at her.
What did the young bitch wanted from me?
Was she offering herself to me in bribe?
But, after a moment, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq relaxed against my side and we watched the rest of the movie cuddled up together.
That night, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq couldn’t sleep.
She kept replaying what had happened in her head.
Her orgasm had been one of the most intense ones she’d ever had, but she still felt the pressure inside that always let her know when she needed some sexual release.
Her hand drifted lower.
But instead of trying to pull away this time, I was gently pumping my Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab excellent, exquisite, Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Is it possible?
Is it possible??
She has felt it now herself.
What a magnificent penis!
Now she understood why the Musalmān Beauties, of every age group, were so crazy to have me between their legs.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq whimpered,
“Yes Durgesh,” “Fuck me with your Uncut Hindu Lund.”
She did not say Uncut Hindu Prick.
She did not say Uncut Hindu Cock.
She did not say Uncut Hindu Penis.
She did not say Uncut Hindu Dick.
No, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq did not.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq did say ‘Uncut Hindu Lund’.
It felt her more romantic and practical.
That was what she heard her girlfriends say it.
And Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq loved the magic four words.
That’s what the excellent organ is.
Why pretend any damned impractical sophistication?
Why not accept it boldly what it is?
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq pretended that I was pinching her nipple.
With that image in her mind, it wasn’t hard for her to bring herself to an orgasm, and she stifled her moans by biting her lip.
“That’s right Durgesh! Harder!” Her back arched and she could feel her muscles clench around her fingers.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq licked the juices off her fingers and fell asleep.
The next day, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was unsure about how to act around me, but I treated her no differently than I ever had.
It was Saturday, so we all sat at the kitchen table eating cereal.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, and I read the newspaper and she read the last romance novel Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had gotten from the bookstore.
In other words, it had lots of graphic sex.
Just the kind Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq liked.
“I was thinking of going to visit my Ammī, Zāhidah bint Nasīr, today.” her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, mentioned, “Do either of you want to go?”
I shook my head emphatically.
“No, thanks darling.” we all knew how much her Grand Ammī Zāhidah bint Nasīr, hated me, only because I never refused to any Musalmān Beauty requesting me to fuck her.
“Your Durgesh would fuck even me if I offer him myself.”Zaynab bint Mazh’un’s Ammī, and Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq’s Grand Ammī Zāhidah bint Nasīr, had told her daughter, Zāhidah bint Nasīr, once.
Zaynab bint Mazh’un had smiled teasing her Ammī, Zāhidah bint Nasīr.
“Well, if so, enjoy Durgesh once, Ammījān.
Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.”
Zāhidah bint Nasīr had laughed ironically.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq immediately took
advantage of the situation,
” Neither I want to go, Ammī .”
“It would be nice if you went, but I guess I can’t make you.” Zaynab bint Mazh’un said somewhat curtly.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq knew her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, was pissed by how tightly she managed to purse her lips.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, stomped upstairs to get ready, leaving just Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq and me sitting at the table.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had been wondering how laid back I was when it came to giving herself pleasure, and ever since Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had woken up that morning, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had intended to test my limits.
Well, she had successfully grabbed and squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis already.
It was rock hard.
Well, she could not claim it.
It might have been a normal reaction too.
But, what a Cock!
What a Cock!
She came downstairs in a long t-shirt and boy short underwear on purpose, hoping the sight of her naked legs would turn me on, like I had turned her on.
I hadn’t given any indication of arousal that she could see so she decided to push things even further.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was at a particularly steamy part of the book and she shifted in her chair until the corner of the seat was between her legs.
She straightened her back to increase the pressure, and began to grind against the chair slowly.
‘Sāliħah Muåāwiyah gasped as my swollen Uncut Hindu member pierced her delicate flower. With all the love in my heart I began to move against her. Our union flowered into a passionate embrace and our moans filled the air.’
Her underwear was wet and had slipped between the lips of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab excellent, exquisite, Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
She reached one hand up and rubbed her breast over the t-shirt.
She let out a light moan.’
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was so caught up in her book and her own pleasure that she didn’t hear me clear my throat at first.
I did it again and she stopped her movement and looked up at me.
I didn’t look upset or embarrassed, my expression betrayed nothing.
She stared me straight in the eye, heart beating uncontrollably.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq began to grind against the chair again in front of even myself.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was so turned on that she didn’t want to stop.
She simply couldn’t.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq wasn’t sure if she was going to comply with my command, but the sound of her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, coming down the stairs, made the decision for her.
She rearranged herself.
So, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was sitting normally again.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, bustled out the door 10 minutes later, making sure that both her Live in relationship Partner, and her daughter, knew Zaynab bint Mazh’un was less than pleased with us.
As the door slammed shut behind her Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un; Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq smiled with the realization that she would now have hours alone with me.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had gotten worked up during breakfast.
But she hadn’t found any release.
And Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was craving now for more.
Now she wanted me inside her.
I was not her real father.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq waited patiently, until she heard me go upstairs and close the bathroom door.
Shedding her T-shirt so that all that remained was her underwear, she followed me to my room and opened the bathroom door.
I was sitting on the toilet with my pants down and my penis standing erect in my lap.
I looked up at her startled, and Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq was pleased to see my Uncut Hindu Cock twitch in my lap.
“Don’t mind me,” she giggled, bouncing over to the shower and turning it on.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq bounced over to the counter and began to brush her hair.
“Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq!” I yelled, “What the hell are you doing?”
My face was bright red with anger.
Even then, the hell with it.
“I’m just gonna take a shower, Durgesh. You just stay there. You don’t have to leave.” She slid her underwear down her hips and bent over facing the door so she could pull them off completely.
She turned back around and I was still frozen on the toilet.
I had one hand pushing down on my shaft, trying to hide my erection from Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq, as much as I could.
No more twenty eights now.
Yes, they have tight virgin Musalmān Cunts yet their buttocks are not as grown as I enjoy playing with, when I fuck them.
Moreover, they act so irresponsible…
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq just giggled,
“Relax, Durgesh. It’s not as if I’ve never seen a boner. In addition, I’ve already grabbed and squeezed yours. Haven’t I? Now, stop playing my father anymore. You know you are not.”
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq walked past me to get to the shower, trailing a hand across my thigh as Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq went.
She stepped into the steamy shower and bent over to get some shampoo, making sure I had a great view of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī firm round excellent Wahābī Musalmān ass and her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab excellent, exquisite, Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq began to shampoo her hair.
Rivers of soapy water ran down her jiggling breasts.
She tilted her head back to rinse the shampoo out, her nipples rock hard.
She looked over at me and smiled.
The hand that covered my erection was squeezing my Uncut Hindu Penis strongly .
Her grin widened.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq loved that I was squeezing myself watching her.
She put some shower gel in her hands and worked it into a lather.
Slowly, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq began to wash her tremendously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
She started with her arms and bent down to get her legs too.
Straightening, she kneaded her breasts.
Her eyes closed and she almost lost herself in the sensation of touching herself.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq heard a suppressed moan and looked over at me.
I now had my Uncut Hindu Cock in my hand and I was squeezing my shaft more strongly .
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq blew a kiss at me.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had never felt more in control in her life.
She needed to know how far she could take this little game with me.
She reached down and began to wash her belly.
Her hands snaked even lower, until Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq began to wash her shaved lips.
She loved how smooth she felt down there and without any artifice, cleaning turned into something more.
She probed her index finger into her lips a little and held it there, reveling in the feeling.
Well, she can at least imagine, it is there.
Her excitement was only bolstered by the look of tortured desire on my face as I strongly squeezed my Uncut Hindu Cock.
She licked her lips.
Why the old Hindu idiot is torturing himself?
Why doesn’t he come out and fuck me to his heart’s content?
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq wanted to touch me so bad, but she didn’t want to annoy me off now.
With one hand, she took the showerhead off of the wall and lifted her foot so that one foot stood on the stool she used to shave her legs.
Her extremely smooth Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān thighs were wide open to me.
I had the perfect view of her 28 year old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab excellent, exquisite, Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq inserted a second finger and brought the stream of water to her clit.
Her legs began to shake and she threw her head back whimpering as the water massaged her clit.
The water mixed with her juices and flowed down her leg as she fingered herself faster to her approaching orgasm.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq heard another suppressed moan, yet somewhat louder this time.
She paused pulling the shower head away and pretending to look worried for me.
I was squeezing my Uncut Hindu Cock furiously, hunched over on the toilet and she tried to match the motion of her fingers to that of my hand.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq wished so bad that at least my fingers that used to French braid her hair, would be the ones inside of her.
“Are you okay, Durgesh?” she asked licking her lips seductively.
“Stop it, you wretched girl.” I ordered her coldly.
My eyes were trying not to rake hungrily over her tremendously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq laughed triumphantly and winked at me.
“Alright, have your own way.” she said.
She continued what she was doing to seduce me.
“Are you afraid of making love to me, Durgesh? But why, if I myself don’t? You haven’t approached me. I’ve approached you.”
“Find a suitable partner for yourself.” I said furiously.
“And what else am I doing, you idiot?” Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq laughed.
She shoved her fingers back into her tremendously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān Cunt and locked the showerhead onto her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān excellent, exquisite, clit again.
Bolts of pleasure shot through her, and it was no longer a performance, anymore.
Her need drove her movements.
Hips and fingers undulating wildly, her moans echoed off the walls.
Nothing more was said, all that could be heard through the falling water was labored breathing and urgent moans.
“Uhhhh!!!” Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq cried.
Her tremendously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body shuddered in pleasure.
And waves of her orgasm crashed around her.
Her tremendously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body shook for what seemed like hours until she could finally breathe again.
When her eyes opened she could see me still squeezing my Uncut Hindu Cock.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq smiled at me sarcastically.
“Don’t you need some help with that?” she asked me, looking pointedly down at my lap and licking her lips.
My eyes widened with the implication behind her words and with a jerk of my hips, I exploded.
Ropes of my Hindu cum shot out of my prick and dribbled directly into Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq’s deliberately opened mouth.
I came, and came and came.
And Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq gulped and gulped and gulped entirely unashamed of her.
My eyes closed tightly as I rode out the effects of my own orgasm.
“Thank you. It was very tasty.”Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq smiled.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq wrapped herself up in a towel and sauntered back to her room, where Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq would masturbate again with the taste of my Hindu cum still in her mouth and on her lips.
That had been enough for one day.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq knew enough about men, to know that it was never a good idea to give them everything we wanted right away.
Men had to be forced to work for the things we want.
And today, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq had made sure she knew I wanted Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq, though not admitting it even to myself .
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq could wait.
Life in the home was about to get a lot more interesting, and more pleasurable for Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq.
Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar and Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd had been married for 7 years.
During that time Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd had been off the pill and trying for a child.
A medical check-up confirmed Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar was not capable of producing children.
He was very disheartened of the findings because he loved kids.
He became depressed and even lost his sex appetite about the outcome.
It was the harm in believing the sex and marriage for children theory.
Hinduism does not, ever.
Hinduism believed in Pavmān Som theory.
The theory that sex is for consecration only, neither for children nor for animal pleasure at all.
Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd tried to cheer him through her new sexperimental adventure.
One evening after dinner, I asked about their children planning and Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar broke the bad news.
So Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd brought up the idea of the possibly of adopting a child.
But that didn’t go down well with Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar.
I interrupted and told Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar that when I was 25,the year I got married, Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar’s Ammī, Zaynab bint Mazh’un, had insisted me to keep a sample of my sperm in a sperm bank in case anything happened to me.
I then suggested that they could use my sperm to help Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd conceive through in-vitro method.
Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd was totally against the idea.
She knew that it will hurt Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar’s sentiment and he could get even some idea, about our relationship.
But to her sheer amazement, Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar was all for it.
He bravely stated that at least Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd’s child would inherit most of my genetics, not his own shortcomings.
After much debate, Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd, finally gave in.
Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar and I made the arrangement privately and the following weekend Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd had the sperm implant.
A month later, Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd had to go back to clinic to find out whether she was pregnant or not.
Unfortunately, Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar was away on tour again so I took Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd for her appointment.
As Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd was waiting in the lobby of the clinic having given a sample, I came back with the result from the doctor.
” I am sorry dear, negative. Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā ! How will Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar feel?”
I took Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd home and we sat together on the sofa where I comforted Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd.
Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd sobbed in my arms and cuddled to my chest.
“What am I going to tell Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar ? He will be devastated by the news.”
I could not help it.
Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd cried and ran to her bedroom snatching herself away from my fatherly embrace.
I understood her predicament.
I left her to herself so that she could synchronize herself with the limits her dreams now had to face.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq smiled cunningly at both of us.
She was trying to seduce me herself.
It was an Allahdād opportunity for her.
Being a mastermind, it was impossible for her not to take the advantage of the situation.
In the evening, when I was working on my computer and Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd was arranging my library, Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq walked into my personal and private office.
“There is only one option and if Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd Bhābhījān loves to be an Ammī, to the extent, then she must agree.”Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq proposed without addressing anyone of us.
I stopped working and looked at Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq.
What was now she against?
“What is that?” Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd asked.
“Well,” Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq smiled cunningly, “Durgesh would have to plant some fresh seed inside your womb.”
“What do you mean?” Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd was suddenly all alert.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq hid her smile and tried to appear grave absolutely.
“You are also a Doctor in philosophy, Bhābhījān. You must understand that it means Durgesh and you should have real sexual intercourse without any protection.”
“What?” Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd jumped.
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq laughed,
“You have already taken a sample of Durgesh’s Hindu sperm and Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar believes that you will be impregnated by that. Thus, how can he get the story? He is not here now. We can do whatever we want to do. And I know you want a baby. Durgesh can make you an Ammī.”
Zaynab bint Mazh’un looked horrified.
“Ammījān,” Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd suddenly turned to Zaynab bint Mazh’un sharply, “you left your duly mankūħ Musalmān Husband, Abbū Imām Ůmar Fārūq even, only to have and enjoy sex with Durgesh. Didn’t you?”
“Your Abbū Imām doesn’t deserve me.” Zaynab bint Mazh’un flared.
“And Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar deserves Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd Bhābhījān, only because he is your son?” Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq asked her Ammī curtly.
“He is your brother.”Zaynab bint Mazh’un said equally tartly.
“And Abbū Imām, Imām Ůmar Fārūq, is my father.”Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq responded equally harshly, “What a double standard, Ammījān! You were not faithful to your own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Husband, my Abbū Imām, yet you want Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd Bhābhījān to be faithful to your half impotent son.”
“Åbd-Allah ibn Ůmar is not impotent.”
“An Ammī is speaking now. Not a woman.”
“What do you want?”
“What do I want?” Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq smiled curtly, “Don’t you know Ammī? Durgesh really hasn’t told you what I want?”
“Durgesh is not a suitable man for you.”
“I’m not talking of myself now. That’s another matter.”
“Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq.”
“I love Durgesh, Ammī. And I can win my man for me.”
“You are crazy.”
“Well, you were also crazy when you left Abbū Imām for Durgesh.”
Zaynab bint Mazh’un’s eyes were suddenly filled with tears.
“Durgesh says it’s possible you would be a widow in utmost next eighteen to twenty years, if he surrenders to your wishes.”
“And you agree with him?”
“I’m twenty eight myself Ammījān.”Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq said dryly, “I can decide very well what is right for me and what is wrong. In next eighteen to twenty years, I would myself be forty six to forty eight. Wouldn’t I?”
“Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq.”
“I want, and I need, sex with Durgesh now when I am twenty eight, not when I would be forty six or forty eight.”
After a period of silence, Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd suddenly interfered ,
“I suppose that I don’t have much choice, but it must be clear that it is my pleasure to become impregnated by Durgesh.”
I looked at her astonished.
Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd smiled at me.
“Are you crazy?” my voice was husky, “you are also twenty eight. Aren’t you?”
Ħafsah Ůmar Fārūq laughed.
“Bhābhījān, no twenty eight any more. Why don’t you understand?”
Al Munawwarah Al Saåīd suddenly grabbed my Uncut Hindu Prick and kissed me full on my lips.
I was dumbfounded.
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
22. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–18
23. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–19
24. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–20
29. A secret Smile
36. Sālī, Ammījān!
50. Hell, I revolt
70. I live with him
79. Under Open Sky
87. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-13
88. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-14
89. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-15
99. Ahl-Al Bayt 7
105. Ahl-Al Bayt 13
106. Ahl-Al Bayt 14
107. Ahl-Al Bayt 15
108. Ahl-Al Bayt 16
109. Ahl-Al Bayt 17
110. Ahl-Al Bayt 18
111.Ahl-Al Bayt 19
112. Ahl-Al Bayt 20
113. Ahl-Al Bayt 21
114. Ahl-Al Bayt 22
115. Ahl-Al Bayt 23
116. Ahl-Al Bayt 24
117. Ahl-Al Bayt 25
118. Ahl-Al Bayt 26
119. Ahl-Al Bayt 27
120. Ahl-Al Bayt 28
121. Ahl-Al Bayt 29
122. Ahl-Al Bayt 30
124. The women in my life
145. She protested
147. The threesome
149. The Chairman: 1
150. The Chairman: 2
151. The Chairman: 3
152. The Chairman: 4
153. The Chairman: 5
154. An Underworld Don: 1
155. An Underworld Don: 2
156. An Underworld Don: 3
157. An Underworld Don: 4
158. An Underworld Don: 5
159. An Underworld Don: 6
160. An Underworld Don: 7
161. An Underworld Don: 8
162. An Underworld Don: 9
163. An Underworld Don: 10
164. Age no bar: 1
165. Age no bar: 2
177. The Extent: 3
178. The Extent: 4
179. The Extent: 5
180. The Extent: 6
181. The Extent: 7
182. The Extent: 8
183. The Extent: 9
184. The Extent: 10
More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:
13. Eidul Fitr-1
18. Main térī dīvānī
21. Majājī Kħudā: 1
22. Majājī Kħudā: 2
23. Majājī Kħudā:3
24. Majājī Kħudā:4
25. Majājī Kħudā: 5
26. Majājī Kħudā: 6
27. Pyār na dékhé ůmr:1
More Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi:
9. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 6
10. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 7
11. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 8
12.R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 9
39. Saamved: Mantr 1