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
Imrān Hāshmī bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was fucking him in his ass.
It was a great mistake that, Imrān Hāshmī thought the entire underworld was Muslim dominated.
Yes, most of the underworld consisted of Pseudo Musalmīn, but not the entire.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was there too.
Imrān Hāshmī loved Rājesh Rājpūt that Rājesh Rājpūt must fuck Imrān Hāshmī in his ass, but when Shankar Mahāpralayankar announced to punish Imrān Hāshmī by himself fucking Imrān Hāshmī, even Rājesh Rājpūt couldn’t save Imrān Hāshmī.
He was Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s mare now.
Mare, not horse.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was constantly pumping nonstop.
Allah målūm how Shankar Mahāpralayankar had succeeded in establishing that Imrān Hāshmī was dead now.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm had murdered him.
The dead body, Shankar Mahāpralayankar successfully established that it was that of Imrān Hāshmī was arranged by his persons from some hospital.
Pain, pleasure, Imrān Hāshmī was experiencing both.
Almost unbearable pleasure.
Imrān Hāshmī could silence himself no longer.
His gay Musalmān body shuddered uncontrollably as Imrān Hāshmī climaxed.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar still didn’t withdraw his still erect Uncut Hindu Penis from Imrān Hāshmī’s feminine ass.
Imrān Hāshmī rested his feminine buttocks in Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Hindu groin.
He knew Shankar Mahāpralayankar would fuck him again.
In the meantime, Shankar Mahāpralayankar stood up proudly and stared down at Imrān Hāshmī.
“So you say you haven’t murdered Muħammad bin Qāsim?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Penis was still throbbing into Imrān Hāshmī’s round firm perfect feminine ass.
Imrān Hāshmī was panting.
“Señor, I’m a gay. More than ninety-nine percent I am feminine. How can I murder an underworld personality as successful as Muħammad bin Qāsim was?”
“Ummil Åālmīn, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim, wanted you to replace Muħammad bin Qāsim, didn’t she?”
Al Zakāt Al Qāsim smiled at Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
“Shankar, Muħammad bin Qāsim was my younger brother. Abbū tried his best to stop his underworld activities. That’s why I wanted Imrān Hāshmī to replace my younger brother Muħammad bin Qāsim.”
She was all-nude with me.
I was fucking Al Zakāt Al Qāsim from her gorgeous behind.
Imrān Hāshmī was licking my Uncut Hindu Penis when it came out of his sister, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt .
It was Ved Nagar and Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog was normal here.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled at me,
“Durgesh, I don’t think Imrān Hāshmī can kill even a rat or fly.”
“Thank you.” Imrān Hāshmī gratefully pushed his feminine buttocks into Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s lap, surrendering his gorgeous feminine ass to Shankar Mahāpralayankar thus, in immense indebtedness.*
Muħammad Ibrāhīm knew Durgesh would never let down him.
How wrong he was.
He hated Durgesh because Durgesh was fucking Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s beautiful sisters, Jamīlah Nādir, Åzīzah Nādir, Fauziyah Nādir, Ghazālah Nādir, Zulékħah Nādir, Bilqīs Nādir and Tayyabah Nādir.
He was the only brother among seven sisters.
His Ammī, Kulsūm Åbbās, loved his only son very much.
Even his Abbū, Al Waħīd Al Muħammad, was very proud of Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad was in the Board of Directors in Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
“Abbū,” Muħammad Ibrāhīm had protested, “we are millionaire. You have done very much for your children. All my seven sisters are highly educated and running their own businesses. Yet, their affair with the Hindu multi zillionaire Durgesh…”
“Durgesh is your friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm.” his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, interrupted Muħammad Ibrāhīm curtly.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad smiled.
“She is right, Muħammad Ibrāhīm. Durgesh has a great contribution in not only our success, but our Bahū Bégum’s family’s success as well.”
“I know. But I can’t pay Durgesh with my sisters.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm said curtly.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled cunningly.
“Well, I am ready to pay Durgesh with my sisters for the prosperity and protection my family is receiving from him.”
Muħammad Ibrāhīm watched his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, scrutinizing her.
“What do you mean?”
“You are ready to pay Durgesh with your sisters only for the prosperity and protection your family is receiving from him? Not with yourself too?”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled prudently.
“I see. So you still doubt that Durgesh fucks me too?”
“I know Durgesh fucks his Musalmān friends’ extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies. Most of my friends have adjusted with the inevitable because their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies themselves are adamant to fuck Durgesh. They shamelessly say:
‘Once with Durgesh,
all the rest is trash.’
Allah, my own sisters say so.”
Muħammad Ibrāhīm gritted his teeth.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad smiled.
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm, your sisters are modern young ladies. All of them are highly educated and Durgesh helped them in establishing their own businesses.”
“Their own husbands don’t mind it. Why the hell do you?”
“That’s what I am trying to tell your foolish son, Abbū.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said curtly.
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm,” Al Waħīd Al Muħammad admonished his somewhat communal somewhat backward son, “It’s twenty first century. Your sisters have their own fundamental human rights and women rights too. Their sex life is their personal life. When their husbands…”
“Their husbands are selling my sisters.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm thundered at his Abbū, Al Waħīd Al Muħammad, “They themselves have extramarital affairs. Why the hell they mind if my sisters are foolish enough to sell themselves to Durgesh to get financial support for their husbands and themselves too?”
“I see.” Al Waħīd Al Muħammad said curtly.
“I too.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said.
“Durgesh has fucked your brains too.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm said furiously.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān cooed.
“Thanks for the compliment, my dear husband.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“That’s what you think.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled at her foolish Musalmān husband, “I take it as a compliment that the great Durgesh, the multi zillionaire, the lifelong chairman of HVSI Group of Business Enterprises, is interested in me sexually. It means something else too.”
“That you are sexually incompetent.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān humiliated Muħammad Ibrāhīm deliberately.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was too furious to respond his wife.
He always suspected Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān never had any platonic relationship with me.
No Musalmān Beauty with brains could have any platonic relationship with me ever.
When I was such a damnfool that I always establish my Musalmān women financially establishing their own separate business establishment, why the hell any Musalmān Beauty with brains wouldn’t get benefited from it?
Okay, let the Hindu damnfool fuck her.
Even their husbands and their inlaws supported them.
Money had its own ethics.
My one fourth Uncut Hindu Lund was already into Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān’s beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
It was rock hard.
“Bhābhījān,” I tried to say.
“Shut up.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said, smiling into my eyes, “I never accepted the platonic relationship you always offered to me so obdurately. Durgesh, don’t you think ever that you were insulting me, thus?”
I fell as if from the seventh sky.
“All of my sisters, all of my cousins, all of my girlfriends, were enjoying grand sex with you and luxuries your never ending money could buy for them. Yet, I was still only your friend’s girlfriend for you.”
“Bhābhījān, how could I cheat Muħammad Ibrāhīm? He was my friend.”
“Stop acting the damn ethical.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān pushed her Musalmān Cunt again on my Uncut Hindu Prick.
My Uncut Hindu Prick entered her Musalmān Cunt half of it now.
I still couldn’t believe Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān herself fucking me.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was in jail.
Muħammad Åbdullah had told me that Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān doesn’t want him out on bail.
I couldn’t believe Muħammad Åbdullah.
But now, I wasn’t so sure.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān perhaps never loved her husband, Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
I was mistaken.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was also mistaken.
But why the hell then Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān married Muħammad Ibrāhīm?
Was she playing some deep game?
I should find out.
Was she behind it herself?
Did she herself mastermind her husband’s arrest?
Did she marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm to destroy him completely?
I should find out.
I should find out.
I should protect my friend from this mastermind bitch.
What a woman?
I never suspected her even while she was so openly unashamed of her activities.
Shakīlah Sultān always grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis.
She always winked at me lewdly.
Once she even unzipped me and entered her right hand to grab my Uncut Hindu Penis.*
I was startled.
“Oh, shut up, fuck me, you Hindu idiot.”
“Stop it, Bhābhījān; after all, there must be some limit.”
“Your friend is a religious damn fool. I married him only because he is a Musalmān and you are not. Now, didn’t you promise me that you’d personally take care of me if Muħammad Ibrāhīm ever failed?”
I was dumbfounded.
“I didn’t mean it to the extent you thought, Bhābhījān.”
“Why not? Your friend is an idiot. He fucks me in darkness only.”
“It’s a customary excuse most of you Musalmān wives use to justify your infidelity,” I laughed, “to justify your extramarital affair with us Hindus. Stop it, Bhābhījān. I know it isn’t true.”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān had grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis and had already brought it out of my shorts.
Now she was squeezing it playfully.
It was rock hard.
“It is true. And you have to fill the gap now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm is a poor fucker. You are the best, they say. Now provide me what your friend is not providing.”
“You promised me you’d provide me everything Muħammad Ibrāhīm wouldn’t. Didn’t you?”
“Of course, but I never meant sex too.”
“Well, you never said that.”
“Well, wasn’t it obvious?”
“No. I still had your Uncut Hindu Penis in my hand when you promised me it.”
“Bhābhījān, try to understand me. You were crazy for me then. How the hell otherwise could I convince you to marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm?”
“You promised me specifically that if I married Muħammad Ibrāhīm I would have extramarital affair with you too. Didn’t you?”
“Because you wanted to fuck me then and there.”
“And I did it, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” I was furious now, “you fucked me. You made me unable to meet my eyes with Muħammad Ibrāhīm. He didn’t get your virginity, your cherry. You gave it to me.”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled cunningly.
“It was nothing my dear. It was only a trailer. Don’t forget we entered a treaty, a written treaty that you’d provide me everything, including sex too, if Muħammad Ibrāhīm failed to provide me anything to my satisfaction.”
I watched her incredulously.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Shakīlah Sultān.
“So you want to fuck Durgesh before you marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm?”
Shakīlah Sultān winked at her.
“I want Muħammad Ibrāhīm cuckolded, but not at once. He must suffer gradually increasingly.”
“I thought you loved him.”
“I can’t love a Pseudo Musalmān.” Shakīlah Sultān said scornfully, “I hate the bastards immensely and love them all cuckolded to their Musalmān wives, their Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers.”
“May I ask why?”
“They are blots to Islam and I am an ardent Musalmān.”
“So you want to punish them?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled prudently.
“Cuckold Your Musalmān husband is my movement, dearie.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed, “The Pseudo Musalmīn hate me immensely because I patronize Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. It’s my Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s first international major success. Even the Western countries finance it because it keeps Hindu Muslim Unity shattered. After 1857, the Westerners are so afraid of Hindu Muslim Unity that they never want them united.”
“But Hindu Lund Muslim Choot union is itself Hindu Muslim Unity. Don’t the bastard Westerners understand it?”
“They believe that the name Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club would excite Musalmīn. They would feel humiliated and therefore never reconcile with Hindus.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling cunningly.
“Well, what’s wrong in it if the Westerners think so? Aren’t Musalmīn so communal now that they can’t bear this name for an international series of clubs?”
“They are. They are. But it would arrange and increase Hindu Lund Muslim Choot union however.”
“But most of the Pseudo Musalmīn are Uneducated/Under Educated. They form the most of the underworld even calling it shamelessly Muslim Underworld too. Won’t they kill Hindus if they feel humiliated to the extent?”*
Long lashes swept upward, dark eyes regarded me with the unabashed frankness of a speculator looking over a piece of property.
She shifted her extremely beautiful nude Musalmān legs on my nude Hindu male shoulders.
My Uncut Hindu Penis once more vanished into her until virgin Musalmān Cunt to my balls.
She smiled at me cunningly.
“I’m going to like this case.” I smiled too.
“I hope you do, Muħammad Ibrāhīm Bhāījān needs a good lawyer.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said, “Yet, the best lawyer he could have is now being attacked by his own Musalmān Houseladies nonstop.”
“Why are you so against your own brother?”
“Why is his own wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, is against her own husband?”
“That can’t be your own reason too.”
“Why do you want your own brother should get gas chamber?”
“He never helped my husband. He cheated him always.”
“Isn’t that what you yourself are doing now?”
“Cheating Abul Ħakam?” Al Furqān Al Waħīd raised her long lashes once more, “You don’t know me, my Hindu fucker. I can’t cheat Abul Ħakam ever.”
“What is this then? Your beloved husband is suffering from Aids and you persistently requested me to fuck you.”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd’s beautiful eyes were suddenly full of tears.
“He permitted me only when I feigned I was ravenously dying to get sex. Suffering from Aids, Abul Ħakam couldn’t do it himself, so…”
“What do you exactly want from me?”
“I want to test what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī suggested me.”
My mouth was suddenly filled with extreme bitterness.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī?”
“Yes, now I don’t have another alternative.”
“Are you crazy? Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī both hate Pseudo Musalmīn deadly. They want them humiliated extremely. Don’t you know it?”
“I know,” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said patiently, “but I too think the criminals/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn deserve what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī are doing with them.”
“How innocent are you!” I said sarcastically, “Don’t you realize they are actually cuckolding your Musalmān husband?”
“Under their Cuckold Your Musalmān husband movement?”
“What do you think?”
“Durgesh, well, they have a theory that my husband can survive if he himself allows me to have sex with you and cleans my private parts with his tongue after that.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said.
“Are you really PhD?”
“I know what you are thinking of me. But what the another alternative do I have? I can do anything for his survival.”
“You are crazy.”
“No, I’m desperate.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd contradicted me, “A desperate can do anything whatsoever if there is even an infinitesimal possibility.”
“I can’t appreciate Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, neither I can even forgive them for it. They are humiliating a person that’s already dying.”
“But he is recovering, méré Hindu Piyā.”
“What?” I was crestfallen.
I couldn’t believe her.
“That’s right. I know you won’t believe it. Even I couldn’t. But believe it or not.Since Abul Ħakam has allowed me to have sex with you and is licking my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt and Musalmān ass, Abul Ħakam is really recovering surprisingly fast. The doctors had decided Abul Ħakam should go through one more operation. But when we reached there, for the operation, the doctors have suddenly found the operation isn’t needed any more, at least now. Tell me if it isn’t the effect of what we are doing, our threesome I mean, why otherwise it’s happening?”
“It may be a coincidence only.”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd watched me attentively.
“Sorry, Durgesh, I don’t believe what you say. I respect you the most, but…”
“You respect me?” I looked at her quite surprised. My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis was diving into her until virgin Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt to my balls, remaining there enough to get content abundantly, coming out till only its head remained inside, and then again plunging more vigorously, till again it’s inside her tight Musalmān Cunt upto my balls to remain there again till I was entirely content with it abundantly, “You only respect me even now?”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd’s expressive eyes were suddenly intensely cold.
“’I see. You want to hear from me that I love you now. Don’t you?”
“Isn’t it natural?”
“I think so. But I respect you to the extent that I can’t lie to you even if I wanted to. It would never be convincing enough to you. Moreover, I would hate myself very much for it, so much that I can’t live normally with my lies to you. It would shatter down my own self respect in my own eyes.”
“Al Furqān Al Waħīd, we are making love…”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd raised her right hand up, in my sentence.
“No, we aren’t.”
“We aren’t making love. I don’t love you. Neither I am capable to love anyone else except Abul Ħakam. Sorry.”
“The hell we aren’t making love.” I said somewhat irritated, “I’m fucking you vigorously…”
“That you are fucking me.”
“I didn’t get you.”
“We are fucking each other. That’s it. We are fucking each other. That’s all. I respect you the most for it that you are kind enough to fuck me. I need it. I need your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis into my Musalmān Cunt very much. But that is the all you can get from me in return. I honor you. And I’d honor you the most till Abul Ħakam and I do exist anywhere. Abul Ħakam does also honor you not less than I do.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus couldn’t control herself any more.
“That’s the problem.” she fired her husband.
The ever-incompetent idiot.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled patronizingly.
“What’s the problem?”
“That I married you.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus blurted out. “Shame on you. You can’t fuck your own wife.”
“What the hell you mean? I haven’t fucked you ever? You are a virgin still now?”
“Thank you very much.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said tartly, “And for your kind information, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, I was a widow in Las Vegas, Nevada, when you proposed me. I wasn’t a virgin even then.”
Pratāp Bachhalyā interfered,
“Well, well, well, Bhābhījān, Bhāījān, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and Durgesh have come here for a definite purpose.”
“Damned if you aren’t right.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs grabbed the opportunity.
It was troublesome for Al Nadīm Al Quddūs that he had to watch his own sisters being fucked so thoroughly by three Hindus.
Damn Hindus and their Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog.
No problem yoga was being appreciated now throughout the globe.
But Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog!
“Just what do you want, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked me.
Pratāp Bachhalyā squirmed fucking his extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim.
“Just a minute, Bhāījān. We unanimously decided that Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān would talk with Durgesh on our behalf. Didn’t we?”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled.
“Then why the hell have we called our lawyer, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī Bājī?”
“It’s alright, Al Nadīm.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī cooed. My Uncut Hindu Penis was still wildly visiting her ever-tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt. “I can understand. Pratāp has his faith more in Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān, than in me. I’m still here. Let Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān talk with Durgesh on Pratāp Bachhalyā’s behalf at least.”
“Well,” Vikram Bachhalyā said, “I can’t help that my wife, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Pratāp’s wife, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, still have faith in Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī Bājī. I don’t. Pratāp is right. Almost every woman of Durgesh shamelessly says:
‘Once with Durgesh,
all the rest is trash.’
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed.
“I don’t blame you, Vikram Bachhalyā. My sister, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim was never as money minded as she is now.”
“What do you mean?” Vikram Bachhalyā asked curtly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus prudently avoided the hostility being developed more and more among her sisters and their Bachhalyā Hindu husbands.
In Ved Nagar, despite every effort from me and other Dvij Hindus, the Bachhalyās were still becoming a dominant influencing force now.
The Brāhm Sampradāý, the Brāhm denomination of Hinduism, had opted for the Bachhalyās’ leadership of them.
“Just what do you want Durgesh, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus asked me shrewdly.
“Well,” I said, “I’ve come here as a lawyer representing a client that has an interest adverse to you.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd?”
“I can’t disclose my client’s name without his express permission.”
“His? Or ‘her’?”
“That’s also a part of privileged communication between a client and a lawyer.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at me patiently.
“Imrān Hāshmī is dead. I want to ask you about circumstances that may have led to his death or…”
“Imrān Hāshmī is dead?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked with cold disbelief, “Well, wasn’t he the husband of Dr. Raziyah Siddīqī?”
“That’s right.” I replied Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“He can’t be dead.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly, “It would greatly embarrass us. Are you certain of your facts, Jījū?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs regarded me as though he expected me to wither, to weaken, and crawl under the table under the impact of his disapproving stare.
I winked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs immediately avoided meeting my eyes.
He looked elsewhere immediately.
Damn the Hindu scoundrel.
The ever-confident rascal.
If only the womankind never supported Durgesh…
“Imrān Hāshmī is quite thoroughly dead. Someone fucked Imrān Hāshmī in his ass and then stabbed him.”
“I never knew Imrān Hāshmī was a gay.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said angrily.
“He never told you?” I asked him feigning surprise, “Perhaps he didn’t know every gay has informed you already that he is a gay. Imrān Hāshmī should also have done the same.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at me irritably.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Al Nadīm,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus admonished her husband coldly, “Durgesh never said Imrān Hāshmī was a gay.”
“The hell Durgesh didn’t. He said Imrān Hāshmī was fucked in his ass, didn’t he?”
“It doesn’t necessarily mean Imrān Hāshmī was a gay. It may also be that Imrān Hāshmī was raped.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar? Rājesh Rājpūt?”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus again admonished her husband.
“The trouble with you, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, is that you believe on publicity more than your own investigation.”
“What do you mean?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs retorted.
He never liked that a woman, however intelligent she might be, would dominate him ever.
He felt his maleness hurt.
He was unable to understand that wisdom and prudence dominates, not maleness or femaleness.
Musalmān Beauties were prudent enough to understand the ultimate success of Hindu males.
They have successfully established the ever-miraculous global city, Ved Nagar.
Today Musalmān Beauties were ruling on Ved Nagar after Hindus.
The Musalmān Beauties were smarter than Musalmīn.
They had replaced Musalmīn in their sex life with Hindus.
They were adamant to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had vowed to do it.
It was now her Mission of life/existence.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs knew it and he had vowed to oppose it.
He was a successful screenplay writer and storywriter.
He had understood how the goal of Ved Nagar was achieved by HVSI Group of Business Enterprises.
Today, HVSI Group of Business Enterprises is controlling every business whether retail or otherwise.
Originally, it was started by Vishvās Shakr Mānav, the utmost brilliant father of Durgesh.
Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Wahāb PhD loved Vishvās Shakr Mānav.
She wanted to destroy Pseudo Islam and replace it with True Islam, everywhere.
Vishvās Shakr Mānav wanted to destroy Pseudo Hinduism.
They found true Hinduism was actually True Islam.
It was the fact that made Hindu Muslim Unity so perfect before 1857 that even the British Empire couldn’t face it.
Even the British Empire needed complete ninety years to destroy it.
Even then, most of the Musalmīn never left India.
The Hindu Muslim Unity was so strong.
Mughal-e-Åāzam, Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar, had set India successfully on the path that couldn’t be reversed even by the great British Empire.*
When my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter first asked if she and her friends could have a ‘sleep over’ in honor of their graduating from high school I wasn’t too happy.
The thought of a bunch of kids making noise all night, keeping me awake didn’t appeal to me.
But, my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān, said sure, no problem so what could I say?
I was angry somewhat with myself that I said her to get permission from her Ammī.
I never anticipated her Ammī would permit it.
Well, it was their house.
My friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm, was in jail now.
Despite my every effort, I could not get him out on bail.
Muħammad Åbdullah said,
“He doesn’t deserve it, Durgesh. Please stop taking his side. If you are really sympathetic to his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, why the hell you yourself don’t fuck her now?”
“Muħammad Åbdullaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” I shouted, “how the hell did you suggest it?”
Muħammad Åbdullah was furious.
“Hasn’t she grabbed your Uncut Hindu Penis even while Muħammad Ibrāhīm and I were present there?”
“You challenged Shakīlah Sultān, Bhabhijan, didn’t you? You called her a chicken.”
“I did that purposefully. Muħammad Ibrāhīm has killed Imrān Hāshmī. He tried to frame Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd. I would never allow him out on bail even.”*
I watched Muħammad Åbdullah harshly.
“Now I understand, Muħammad Åbdullah.”
“Oh,” Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly, “now you understand. Now the hell you understand.”
“Don’t try to discipline me. I never took any discipline from you. If I had, my entire sixteen nudist feminist sisters were disgracing me still now everywhere.”
“You want to punish Muħammad Ibrāhīm, don’t you?” I charged Muħammad Åbdullah angrily.
“That isn’t any secret now.”
“Muħammad Åbdullah, he says he is innocent.”
“And you believe it?”
“Didn’t he try to frame Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd?”
“Someone tried to frame Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.” I amended Muħammad Åbdullah patiently, “It’s more likely that Al Nadīm Al Quddūs did it. His sisters did it. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had a billion at least. And they have already tried their best to disinherit Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.”
“You think Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has really been murdered?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim wasn’t anybody’s fool. I know he met you before he vanished.”
“Vanished.” Muħammad Åbdullah said stubbornly, “the dead body they claim to be that of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, certainly resembles him, but…”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has a son in law, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. He is himself shrewd enough to troubleshoot Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s every trouble.”*
I never told Muħammad Åbdullah that Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, has in the meantime fucked me.
I knew Muħammad Åbdullah himself encouraged Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān to fuck me.
The day Muħammad Ibrāhīm was refused to be out on bail, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān plunged on me, undressed me herself, and straddled me.
“B..bh.. Bhābhījān,” I gasped, “I respect you very much.”
“Damn you.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān thundered at me, “I’m your friend’s wife. Am I not?”
“Sure, Bhābhījān, but…”
“He is in jail. Now replace him. You promised Muħammad Ibrāhīm that you would take care of his wives, his daughters, his sisters and his entire household. Didn’t you?”
“Of course, Bhābhījān, but…”
“Your Bhābhījān wants your legendary Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot now. Give it to me.”
I still couldn’t believe Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān had come to me entirely nude.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, even at her forty what a dazzling Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty she was.
I had noticed her attention to me.
It was not of a friend’s wife’s ever.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm had also noticed it miserably.
What the hell could he do?
Durgesh was behaving with Shakīlah Sultān perfectly.
But Shakīlah Sultān herself was behaving suggestively.
Allah, wasn’t she satisfied with him?
Did she also want to fuck Durgesh?
Allah Rabbil åālmīn.
Durgesh is a love magnet to Musalmān Beauties.*
Nude Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was straddling on nude me.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was in her extremely beautiful right hand.
She was playing with it.
“Bhābhījān,” I tried to say, “Please, control yourself. Muħammad Ibrāhīm is innocent.”
“If you wouldn’t fuck me, I would testify against your friend.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled at me cunningly.
“Close the door, please.”
“Hey, I want to show everyone that I’ve found my new husband already.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I have so many women friends that are married to your Musalmān friends.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled suggestively.
“So?” I looked into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes coldly.
The woman was making me unable to meet my eyes with Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
She wasn’t any different ultimately from my other Musalmān friends’ Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives.
Most of them were already fucking me.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was an exception to them.
I respected her therefore very much.
Muħammad Åbdullah was never confident Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān would never fuck me.
“Sooner or later they would all fuck you.” Muħammad Åbdullah had predicted.
I knew Muħammad Åbdullah was right.
But I didn’t want to break Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s heart.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was rubbing my Uncut Hindu Prick’s utmost experienced head now between her labial lips.
Bit by bit she was pushing herself on me.
“Bhābhījān, we Hindus think a Bhābhī is as if a mother.”
“Nonsense.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān winked at me, “You have already fucked almost entire Musalmān wives of your Musalmān friends that are extremely beautiful. What do you think I was born yesterday?”
She positioned my Uncut Hindu Prick between her ravenously quivering Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān labial lips and pushed herself.
My Uncut Hindu Lund immediately entered into her Musalmān Choot upto its head.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Lund burning inside her.
So dazzlingly beautiful Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān was that despite my efforts not to fuck her, I now wanted to grab her and fuck her wildly till we both existed.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, now perhaps I myself wanted to fuck her more furiously.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān thrust again and my Uncut Hindu Lund entered into her tight Musalmān Choot almost one fourth.
“Bhābhījān,” I protested.
“Shut up, you idiot, enjoy, and let me enjoy too.”
“I wanted to fuck you right when I saw you first.”
“That’s why you fell in my lap deliberately?”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān winked at me.
“You scoundrel, you squeezed my boobs and buttocks inadvertently, then and there, didn’t you?”
“Inadvertently, Bhābhījān, inadvertently. You said yourself . You are so beautiful that I couldn’t resist myself at all. And when you grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis feigning it was an accident, I’d just gone crazy.”
“I wanted to hold it, I wanted to play with it, I wanted to suck it. My so many girlfriends were already enjoying it. And they had challenged me I couldn’t enjoy it before my marriage with Muħammad Ibrāhīm.”*
A week before the party my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān, found out she was going to be out of town, presenting at some conference, and wouldn’t be there for the ‘big event’.
This meant that I would be the chaperone.
When I brought up the idea of postponing the sleep over until my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s wife, Shakīlah Sultān, would be around to ‘heard’ the kids, I again was outvoted.
Saturday morning finally arrived and my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter, Noor Islam, was up early getting things ready for the party.
I went with her to the grocery store to load up on food and drinks.
When we got home, we went to find out whether the pool was clean and make sure everything was ready.
By about 4:00PM we were ready.
The girls started arriving at about five.
I knew a few of them by name, others looked vaguely familiar and several I had never seen before.
I stayed in my den, watching TV and surfing the web.
About seven, Noor Islam popped her head in the door.
“Uncle, I need your help.” She said, “We can’t get the barbeque going.”
I let out a big sigh, as if she was really imposing on me, got up from my chair and headed to the backyard.
It took no time at all to get the fire going.
When I looked around for my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter she was nowhere to be found.
Shrugging, I watched the servants piling the hamburgers and hot dogs onto the grill and figured that I had an excellent chef in my services.
Within a few minutes, the eight girls came, flying out of the house, headed for the pool.
As I watched them running by, I began to think that being the chief host for this party wasn’t going to be too bad after all.
All of the girls wore little thong bikinis and from where I stood there wasn’t a bad looking one in the bunch.
It was a perfect evening, fairly warm so everyone was in and out of the pool as they laughed, talked and had a good time.
After a while I noticed that every now and then one or two of the girls would head into the house for a couple minutes and then come back.
At first, I thought it was to use the bathroom, but it seemed the girls were now heading to the house about every 15 minutes.
Finally, my curiosity got the best of me and about 5 minutes after my friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s daughter and her friend Rukħsānah Firdaus went inside, I followed them.*
I didn’t see anyone as I entered the living room.
That’s when I heard laughter coming from my den.
I walked quietly to the door and peaked in.
There was Noor Islam and Rukħsānah Firdaus downing shots of her Ammī’s private stock of Tequila.
From the looks of it the girls had been drinking for a while.
The bottle had been unopened and was now almost empty.
My first thought was to barge in and give them hell.
Then I figured that they were all over 18 and it was a party so why should an old prude and spoil things.
My only concern was if one of them decided to go for a drive.
Stepping into the den, I said in a very stern tone,
“The cost of the Tequila is everyone’s car keys.”
Rukħsānah Firdaus had been bringing a shot to her lips.
She spilled the tequila all over her chin and chest as she jumped when I began to speak.
Both the girls turned toward me, as they quickly set the shot glasses down on the desk and then stood in front of the bottle and glasses.
I let them fidget for a minute before saying,
“I said I want everyone’s car keys – NOW – or the drinking and party stops!”
Rukħsānah Firdaus was the first to get it.
“If we give you our car keys you won’t care if we drink?” she asked is a very shy voice.
“That’s what I said” was my reply.
They almost ran over me!
Both the girls flew out of the room and within two minutes Rukħsānah Firdaus was back with eight sets of car keys.
She was out of breath from running and her chest was heaving as she gasped for air.
The fact that she was wearing a very skimpy bikini and that her superb ardent Musalmān tits looked like they were ready to burst out of the thin material was not wasted on me.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Cock begin to stir as I enjoyed the view.
Apparently Rukħsānah Firdaus had had quite a few shots of the tequila already, she was swaying pretty well as she stood in front of me with a crooked little smile on her face, both hands full of car keys.
“Hereyago,” she mumbled bringing her hands up to her chest she held out the car keys in front of her.
Thinking she was going to drop them, I automatically raised my hands to catch the keys.
At the same moment, Rukħsānah Firdaus swayed in my direction.
The net effect was that her hands hit my chest causing her to drop the keys to the floor while my hands ended up full of her superb ardent Musalmān tits.
As much as I knew, I should have let go of Rukħsānah Firdaus’s tits and back away, yet my hands refused to obey.
“Mr. Durgesh!! You shouldn’t be doing that,” Rukħsānah Firdaus said impishly.
But she did nothing either to push my hands away or back up.
It seemed to me that she pressed her taught 34B’s a little harder into my hands.
“Sālī,” I winked at her, “I’d fuck you till you exist.”
“Really?” she cooed, “you are most welcome. That’s my own dream, however, since I saw you fucking my Ammī vigorously. Allah, how she was enjoying your Uncut Hindu Lund in her ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot. I envied her very much.”
Feeling her nipples growing under my fingers, I pinched both of them. Rukħsānah Firdaus let out a little moan deep in her throat and brought her arms up to my shoulders, resting her hands on the back of my neck.
As she pressed against me, my hands came off her superb ardent Musalmān tits , sliding around her back until we were in a tight ashvinātam embrace.
I could feel her nipples now pressing into my chest like two pencil erasers.
My hands slid down her back to her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ass.
The thong bikini did nothing to cover her as I took an ass cheek into each hand and began to squeeze.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was now fully erect and pressing against her firm belly.
Looking down into her lovely eyes, I saw her part her lips as she pulled my face to hers.
Our lips met – then our tongues as the kiss became more passionate.
Pulling her to me I could feel her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt against my thigh as she wrapped her legs around mine.
Rukħsānah Firdaus dropped one of her hands between us and began stroking my hard Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Mmmmmmmm, that feels good” she whispered, “I want to see that big Uncut Hindu Cock of yours Mr. Durgesh.”
We pulled far enough apart for both of her hands to reach between us and in no time, she had loosened my belt, unsnapped by trousers and pushed them down my legs.
Her hands then went to my rigid Uncut Hindu Cock, slowly rubbing up and down my 8 inches.
This was too much for me.
My own hands went to work consequently.
I easily brushed aside her skimpy bikini top with one hand and reaching one of her superb ardent Musalmān tits; I begin pinching and pulling on her hard nipple.
My other hand burrowed under Rukħsānah Firdaus’s bikini briefs sliding my fingers thru the fine down of pubic hair until my finger slid over her erect Musalmān clit and then into her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Pulling my hand back a few inches I thrust it forward again repeating the action.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt was so wet my Uncut Hindu Lund slid into her with almost no resistance.
I fucked her.
This caused Rukħsānah Firdaus to moan even more as she dropped one of her hands to my heavy balls and began massaging them.
I was quickly approaching the point of no return.
Any thoughts of how wrong this was were long gone.
The only thing I could think of now was shoving my Uncut Hindu Cock into this hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Sex godess’s drooling Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Grabbing the thin material, I yanked off the thong covering Rukħsānah Firdaus’s hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Then circling her waist with my arm I lifted her up off the floor.
It was two steps to the wall to steady us.
As we moved I dropped my other hand to my Uncut Hindu Cock and positioned the head at her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and lowered her onto my fat pole.
The whole process took just a few seconds.
Rukħsānah Firdaus’s eyes opened wide as she felt her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips being stretched by my huge Hindu erection.
She was about to say something when I relaxed my hold on her, causing her to slide all the way down on my waiting Uncut Hindu Cock.
She was now impaled on my Uncut Hindu Cock with her back against the wall and her feet dangling several inches off the floor.
“Allah, Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Oh God, you’ve got a huge Uncut Hindu Cock!” she hissed as I lifted her up and dropped her on my Uncut Hindu Cock again. “It feels like you’re splitting me in half.”
Rukħsānah Firdaus’s arms were now back on my shoulders helping raise and lower her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt onto my steely Uncut Hindu Cock.
She had closed her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes and was shaking her beautiful head slowly from side to side, as our fucking tempo increased.
Soon sweat broke out across her forehead and upper lip and I could see just the tip of her tongue sticking through her clinched lips.
Her breathing became erratic and her face flushed.
Rukħsānah Firdaus brought her legs up and locked them behind me.
This gave me a better angle at her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt and with the next thrust I went even deeper up her slick Musalmān hole.
That was all it took.
She spasmed in my arms, jerking her head back and letting out a long moan of pleasure.
We fucked for hours, wildly, passionately and assaulting on each other nonstop.
Ultimately, this sent me over the edge and my Uncut Hindu Cock erupted in her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Shooting glob after glob of my cum deep into her grasping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
We held onto each other for several minutes riding the crest of our mutual orgasm.
Finally, Rukħsānah Firdaus unlocked her legs from around my waist and I eased her to the floor.
My Uncut Hindu Cock slid out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, followed by a thick stream of cum.
Our breathing returned to normal and Rukħsānah Firdaus looked up into my eyes as a huge grin crossed her face.
“Allah, Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! God Mr. Durgesh, you’re still hotat your sixty three!! Wallah!” she said, “You have got one huge Uncut Hindu Cock and boy do you know how to use it. I haven’t cum like that in a long long time. We have GOT to do this again as much as we can.” She pulled my face to hers, gave me a quick passionate kiss and slid out from between the wall and me.
“Now I need to find my suit, clean up this bucket of cum you shot into me and get back to the party.” Finding her thong Rukħsānah Firdaus disappeared in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam