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
I ordered Muħammad to sit and watch us, while I fucked Muħammad’s wife in his own bedroom.
“We’ll be done in a couple of hours, and I expect it to be written after that.” I smiled at him fucking his wife.
I hated to cuckold any one.
But Kħadījah was adamant to cuckold Muħammad.
“He is not any Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam.” Kħadījah constricted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund, furiously, “Neither I am any Ummil Mominīnīn Ħazrat Kħadījah Al Tāhirah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā. We are only named after them. Why the hell your ever adept ever infinite Hindu lust to fuck us Musalmān Beauties and us awfully lovely Musalmān houseladies perfectly, suddenly starts to diminish whenever you fuck any Musalmān houselady who is named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt? It’s not blasphemy to fuck them. After all, they too have cunts. They need a competent Uncut Hindu Lund into them. You are NOT disgracing the entire Musalmān community by fucking them, as the idiots Pseudo Musalmīn claim notoriously. What the hell they want to say? If you won’t fuck us, none would? And it wouldn’t be any blasphemy if someone else would fuck us?”
I wanted to pull out my Uncut Hindu Lund to push in back again, but Kħadījah wrapped her thighs around my waist.
“Please, not now,”
“Muħammad could never fill me as you always do.”
Muħammad smiled too.
“I’m not Durgesh, Kħadījah, neither I can ever be. Just enjoy him, and forget me.”
“I think, Kħadījah,” I said gravely, keeping my Uncut Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt fully embedded, “it was also a matter of blasphemy for him.”
Muħammad beamed suddenly,
“That’s right. You have pointed it exactly. How the hell did you know? I’ve never told it to anyone. It’s my closely guarded secret I wanted to die with.”
“What is secret there? Most of the Musalmīn are too afraid of blasphemy. They can’t fuck any woman who is named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt. They are just horrified. According to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s recent survey most of the Musalmīn who are losing their manly vigor with their ever competent Musalmān wives are the husbands of the Musalmān houseladies that are named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt. They are even afraid of divorcing or cheating them. They resort to masturbating consequently. Among Durgesh’s Musalmān Live in relationship partners, most of them are named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt. Even among the other Musalmān houseladies who are not as lucky as to get Durgesh to get satisfied sexually optimum, and forced to have extramarital relations with other competent Hindus therefore, most of the Musalmān houseladies are named after some Ummil Mominīnīn or Binnāt-e-Tāhirāt.”*
There I was, receiving my trophy once more with honors and championship standing on the love makers team.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, Muħammad’s Ammī, smiling proudly from the fleet of chairs in the huge Stadium and pointing the camcorder at me, waving as I smiled back at her.
That was no surprise.
After my own Ammī Ħuzūr and Imāmzādī Ħumayrah Qāzī, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD’s
Gestapo like dedication to my championship was hugely responsible for my trophy.
But the empty chair beside her was a surprise to her, alright.
Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī wasn’t the best father in law in the world, nor the best husband going by some of Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, Muħammad’s Ammī’s shouted accusations the past few years, but this was way beneath even his style.
I figured there was a good reason.
I was right.
The day after, after the prom and the ensuing party with my friends that ended with me screwing the hell out of my awfully stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah etcetera, in the back of my Hummer, my surprise was deepened.
I woke up and came down for breakfast, being told then by Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD that there was still no word from him.
Muħammad had already left the home in protest of me fucking one by one every extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houselady, not only living there, but even came there any time.
“I am not Muħammad Åbdullah.” Muħammad Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī flared, “My sisters are not either nudists or feminists.”
“But they are adults.” Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD said curtly to her only son.
“Ammī,” Muħammad was angrier now, “Do you also enjoy Durgesh’s unique legendary Hindu sex kicks as most of our other friends’ Ammīs do? Are even you not loyal to Abbū?”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD slapped Muħammad.
Muħammad marched out of there in immense wrath.
I stayed home and, using the phone, excused myself from the day’s planned activities with my subordinates to wait and experience a new kind of worrying with her.
At three o’clock, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD called his office and that’s when they got to be surprised because, as far as they knew, he’d been on vacation for a week.
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD didn’t explain before she thanked them and hung up, turning to stare at me with a blank expression before she told me what they’d said.
It wasn’t as if Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī wasn’t always gone, but when he did leave on his frequent business trips, he usually let us know, even if it was his secretary calling from the office after he’d already left for the airport.
This was different.
He’d missed my trophy without so much as a message, but beyond that it just felt different.
Looking back, I may have just been reacting to how Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD seemed about it.
Two detectives visited us the very next day.
We feared the worst, as anybody would, my first experience in the true art of fretting coming to a head as Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD invited them in.
Well, we couldn’t have imagined what they’d tell us.
We both just sat there, stunned and speechless at the news that dear ol’ Dad had disappeared, presumably having fled the country, just ahead of a lot of “very serious fraud charges”.
They also informed us that we were now being investigated in order to ascertain whether or not we were involved.
Just over a month later, by the time the Vancouver Police and the RCMP were done with us, we realized that the term, “very serious fraud charges”, was a terrific understatement.
If there was any doubt, it was cleared up as we stood in front of what was once her beautiful home while watching the locksmith change the locks on the front door.
We each had a suitcase, the clothes on our backs and one thousand Dollars Cash that Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD had stashed somewhere in the house in case of emergency.
This seemed to qualify, alright.
At the time, I could only Mumble, “Fuck.”
She didn’t even bother to give me flack for my language.
She was too worried to pay any attention to it.*
Soon I was actually stepping off a city bus with Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD, Muħammad’s Ammī, at a place called King Square in the Maritime city of Saint John, clear across the country from where we started.
She refused to have any financial help from me.
I argued with her immensely.
Yet, Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD was adamant.
She said I should not ‘screw’, yes this was the word she used involuntarily, I should not ‘screw’ her self respect.
I decided to wait and explain its urgency once again at a more suitable time, but as soon as it was possible.
Sālī didn’t think I owed even something in return for what she had done for me.
She had even left her only son to support my twenty four hours sex sessions with Muħammad’s tremendously lovely Musalmān houseladies.
She argued we all were adults.
Muħammad didn’t have any right to object on our consensual sex sessions even however kinkiest they may be.
I felt sorry for her, for her negative thinking at least, standing there in her slightly snug, black casual slacks and light purple pullover with a short V-neck.
She never looked her age, sometimes appearing as much as ten years younger with long blonde hair, hazel eyes and six inches shorter than me.
Both of us were feeling three feet shorter after the public nightmare we’d just somehow survived.
There was really no resemblance to the people we were just over a month ago.
I could have settled it all but her son Muħammad had commented to the media,
“I don’t think my Ammī has anything to do with it. The fraud charges against my Abbū are baseless. Abbū saw Durgesh fucking my Ammī. He could not bear it. He left the house. I myself similarly did it because I could not to watch my friend, Durgesh, fucking my entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies.”
The media asked the question,
“Are you worried for the future of your Ammī?”
“Are you crazy? Durgesh is the multi zillionaire. My Ammī is nympho maniac. She herself encouraged our every beautiful Musalmān houselady to seduce Durgesh, so that Durgesh would never leave the house. My Ammī is prudent enough to secure her future with Durgesh. I am worrying instead about your future.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you keep asking such insulting questions to my Ammī and Durgesh, Durgesh would see that your future must be taken care of not to be secured even a bit. Allah Miyan and Durgesh are almighties. Both when destroy their enemies, no one can even surmise it.”
Saiyadah Āmnah Åbdullah PhD refused to sign the papers for defamation of character against her only son.
She looked around herself, both hands protectively clutching her suitcase to her thighs as a man who looked like he’d just been thrice run over by a car ambled by, looking at her large boobs and soft, curvy heavy big hips.
I was worried for both of us, but more for her.
She really didn’t seem to be adjusting since that day we watched the locksmith at work.
When Saiyad Åbdullāh Hāshmī was gone at work, away on a business trip or whatever, there was never any doubt as to who was in charge and I never once ever heard her say anything alike,
“You just wait ’till your father in law gets home!”
She never felt there was any need for waiting.*
Last evening my friend Muħammad’s wife came into the den and informed Muħammad that she had discovered his collection of Penthouse letters magazine.
She was very upset and questioned why Muħammad needed outside stimulation.
Zaynab wanted to know what exactly was the turn-on that the stories provided.
Muħammad was too surprised to lie.
He immediately told her that he gets a real kick out of the Musalmīn sharing their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives with Durgesh/Some Hindu(s) stories.
In fact, Muħammad found them extremely erotic.
Zaynab was shocked,
“Allah, Muħammad, you mean…you mean if I fuck Durgesh you’d love me more?”
Muħammad looked at her gravely.
“My Ammī, Āmnah Åbdullah does it for me. My Kħālās do it for me. My Buās do it for me. My Mumānīs, my Chachīs do it for me, why the hell can’t you? Aren’t you my wife?”
Zaynab was dumbfounded.
“Your entire Musalmān houseladies do it for you? Allah, I can’t believe it.”
Muħammad softened somewhat,
“Well, I should have told you it before we married. I am sorry.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it, but…”
“I am not brought up normally, as the other Musalmīn are.”
Zaynab looked at her husband,
“I could not understand.”
“My Abbū was a terrorist.”
“Durgesh fucked my Ammī in front of my Abbū. Kħadījah Muħammad cuckolded him to my Ammī and Durgesh. She made my Abbū to hold Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund and position it between my Ammī’s Pussy lips. He was compelled to request Durgesh to fuck my Ammī, because he couldn’t fuck his wife. He was a terrorist and every terrorist is impotent.”
“I see.” Zaynab said gravely.
“My Abbū was made to clean my Ammī’s ardent Musalmān Cunt and ass licking them, after Durgesh fucked them. I was too small to understand it was a punishment to my Abbū. I thought it was natural. I too licked my Ammī’s Musalmān Cunt and ass.”
“Allah,” Zaynab said, “Allah!”
“Once my cut Musalmān nūnī got an erection involuntarily. My Ammī hit me there in wrath. It never gets any erection now.”
“What?” Zaynab almost jumped.
“That’s why I always use my fingers and tongue to satisfy you. Even in our Golden night, I didn’t enter you, because I couldn’t. I can’t ever. Sorry.”
Muħammad’s eyes were suddenly full of tears.
Zaynab was startled.
She could never believe, it was true.
She let Muħammad weep as much as he did.
She could not help Muħammad.
She had no alternative.*
Ultimately, Zaynab decided to read some of the stories before passing her own judgment.
Muħammad went out in the garage and found an issue about a Musalmān that had his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife fuck Durgesh then come home and tell him about it while he licked her Musalmān Cunt and ass.
“Is this what you need?” Zaynab asked Muħammad.
“That’s what I need.” Muħammad said gravely, “uh, yes”
“What if I did it, would that turn you on?”
“I don’t think so, but I can enjoy licking your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt and ass after that.”, Muħammad was getting hard as they discussed it.
Muħammad was himself surprised incredibly.
“I don’t think you would like it if I were really going to do it.” Zaynab said, but suddenly she saw Muħammad having an erection.
“Allah, Oh, my God, Muħammad, you’re getting hard, aren’t you?”
Muħammad couldn’t hide it.
His cut Musalmān nūnī was as stiff as a board.
“OK buddy, let’s discuss this in the bedroom.”*
Muħammad’s wife, Zaynab, was drop dead gorgeous.
She is 28 years old, long brown hair, an absolutely beautiful face and a body to kill for.
She looked even 10 years younger than she was, Just Eighteen Just Adult, and had no trouble attracting me.
She also knew that she was desirable because other I was always commenting to her about her qualities.
Zaynab and Muħammad went up to Zaynab and Muħammad’s bedroom.
Zaynab turned to Muħammad and said,
“So, you want me to fuck Durgesh and bring Durgesh’s Hindu cum filled my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt home for you. Is that what you are saying?”
“Well, yes, I guess.”
“Do you know what you’re asking. That could really screw up our marriage. I’ve never cheated on you and I don’t plan to start now.”
“It isn’t cheating if we both agree to it.”
“Are you telling me that you want me to go out, fuck Durgesh and allow him to cum in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, what if I get pregnant?”
“It’s a chance we’d have to take.” Muħammad said gravely, “Moreover, most of the Musalmīn now, are having actually Durgesh’s sons from their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives and call them their own sons. Why can’t we do it, too?”
“You’re Okay with that? What if I like Durgesh myself very much and want to continue.”
“As long as you don’t cut me off, it would be exciting.”
“Allah, I can’t believe it ever, Muħammad. It must be a nightmare, I say.”
“Nonsense, it’s the truth.” Muħammad said gravely,aggressively even strongly, “The cold and hard truth. I was not brought up normally. I told you.”
“Okay. It’s alright, if you say so. Let me get this straight. You want me to go fuck Durgesh, come home to you with his Hindu cum still inside my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt so you can lick me and feel my used Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt while I tell you about Durgesh’s and my fuck sessions.”
“Yeah, I find it very erotic.”
“Just remember, you asked for it.”
This morning after breakfast Zaynab inquired,
“Have you changed your mind yet, or, am I free to fuck Durgesh today?”
“Go for it,” was all Muħammad could say.
She left for ‘work’ dressed to kill.
Muħammad got home from work around 5 PM as usual but Zaynab wasn’t home yet, which was rather odd, because she got off at 3:30 and usually beat Muħammad home.
About 5:30 she called from her cell phone and told Muħammad,
“Honey, don’t wait up for me, I’m going to fulfill your fantasy tonight, I’ll wake you and tell you about it when I get there. Muħammad, I will be very wet and full of Durgesh’s Hindu cum, you better not be upset because it was your idea.”
Muħammad ate dinner and watched TV until 11 PM.
Muħammad couldn’t get the thought of her fucking Durgesh out of his mind.
He kept thinking about jacking off but Muħammad wanted to be fully loaded for her when she came home.
May be he could too fuck Zaynab, his own wife, after licking her Durgesh’s Hindu cum filled Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt and ass.
Muħammad resisted the urge.
He finally went to bed.
At 1:25 Zaynab got home.
Muħammad remembered hearing her car pull in the drive.
Shortly thereafter, Muħammad heard her come in the house.
Zaynab worked her way to Zaynab and Muħammad’s bedroom and switched on the lamp next to her side of the bed.
With that she reached over and patted Muħammad on the shoulder.
“Come on, you can’t be asleep knowing what I have been doing. Look at your well used Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife. I have Durgesh’s Hindu cum in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, I also have it in my mouth and in my absolutely gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass. Is this what you wanted?”
With that she spread her legs and placed Muħammad’s hand on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“Durgesh came inside me”, Zaynab smiled proudly, “And, he came a lot all the three times.”
She smeared my Hindu cum on Muħammad’s hand as she crawled across him and placed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt above Muħammad’s ever ravenous open Musalmān mouth.
“Would you like to feel my wet, fucked Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt?” she asked as she lowered herself down his mouth.
She felt so warm and slippery that Muħammad could barely feel her.
“Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund is bigger than yours,” Zaynab winked at Muħammad, “it really filled my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt. I loved it when he came inside me, Muħammad, I could feel it pulsing and squirting, it was fantastic. I rode Durgesh bareback so you could have me still wet. I just hope you like it because if I get pregnant you will have to claim the baby. You will be a cuckold and you will know it.”
Muħammad was licking her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt as passionately as he had in years. Muħammad could feel my Hindu cum filling his mouth, throat and stomach ultimately as he licked and tongue fucked his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Zaynab.
“So, do you like my used Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt,” she inquired. “I hope so because I plan to fuck Durgesh regularly in the future. It really was fun to feel Durgesh’s legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and into my gorgeous Musalmān ass too. I think I’m going to love doing it for you very very much quite often.”
Muħammad erupted with the best orgasm of his life as she said that.
Afterward, they talked.
Zaynab and Muħammad both agreed that this was definitely an erotic experience that they both enjoyed tremendously.
Now Zaynab was free to fuck me whenever she desired as long as she shared it with Muħammad afterward.
According to Muħammad, if you’ve never tried this lifestyle, you don’t know what the hell you’re missing. It is most definitely a turn-on to have your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife fuck Durgesh and you lick her well fucked Musalmān Cunt after it. There is nothing as fulfilling as licking your Musalmān wife’s ardent Musalmān Cunt, a freshly fucked Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Well, that’s what Muħammad thinks.
You are free to disagree with him if you do.
Muħammad would never mind it.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam