Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 22

Fa qatulū almusharikīn

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 22

Infinite BrāhmKalp

The New Order taking place

Durgesh Lubnā Al Ħamīd

I noticed that a shadow fell across my back.

Having turned 66 I was the man of the house now.

I turned towards the sun to see the bronzed legs of Ħamīdah, dressed in her skimpy tennis outfit.

The skirt of this particular outfit did not cover her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot when she was just standing normally.

When she reached up to serve, she was probably completely exposed.

As she towered over me, I blinked back the sweat that rolled down my brow, trying to get a better look at her beautiful body.

Her narrow ankles flared at her toned calves, from all that tennis at home and at the club.

Her thighs were on the large size, due undoubtedly again, to all that tennis.

Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot mound was quite prominent, since my nose was just inches from it.

Could I smell the rich aroma of a woman’s, leaking Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot?

The smell of earth and plant matter from my morning work masked that rich Musalmān aroma.

The small outward curve of her tummy accentuated her wasp thin waistline.

From down here, near her exciting smelling Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, her breasts hung over me like a veranda on a beautiful house.

From my crouching position it was easy to see why she was the main object of my many shower sessions.

Her husband, Al Ħamīd, the president of the largest bank in town got the other city father’s to give Lubnā and me this house after Al Ħamīd was killed thwarting an armed robbery at his bank.

They gave us this 3 bedroom house on the Al Ħamīd estate in gratitude for his selfless deed.

Personally, Lubnā would rather have Al Ħamīd than this house, but life does not always work that way.

Lubnā’s luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī  Musalmān body shaded me from the meanest part of the noon day sun, as a heady aroma from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot wafted across my nose.

Guess she worked up a sweat playing tennis on her court behind the trees, because there was a prominent wet spot in her crotch.

I reached up to wipe the sweat from my brow, when she said,

“No. Let me do that.”

Her left hand steadied my jaw turning my face towards her as she bent over, at the waist, and reached out with her right wrist and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the cotton wrist band she used when playing tennis.

Of course, this forced my face within inches of her melon sized breasts which had just been an exciting veranda.

There was a wonderful sprinkling of freckles on the upper slopes, and I could see a bit of the puckered flesh nipple before it disappeared into her lacy bra.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund  was hard as a rock and pushing the front of my shorts to the limit, when I heard her say in a very husky voice,

“See something you like?”

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was now running the show completely as I leaned towards her to capture one of those melons in my palm.

“Durgesh. Lunch is on! Get a quick shower and let’s eat!” Lubnā yelled from the kitchen breaking the spell that Lubnā had cast over me and my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.

I ripped my eyes from Al Ħamīdah’s cleavage and looked into her eyes.

An expression of loss swept across her pretty Musalmān face.

She whispered,

“Another time. Durgesh.”*

Al Jihad Al Vaqār could never forget I myself showed her the tremendous newsroom of HVSI Times, when she visited.

It was a great honor for Al Jihad Al Vaqār that I was so much interested myself to show her how the utmost popular newspaper of HVSI functioned.

“I have never seen so many desks,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said with mounting excitement.

“One thousand eight of them,” I pulled her to me using my left hand around her slim waist already, “and the newsroom is over five acres.” I scanned the room and pointed, “Look down this row to the right. About the tenth one down. You can’t miss it – it’s the only clean desk on the floor. That’s the metropolitan section.”

“For Ved Nagar exclusively?”

“For Ved Nagar exclusively.” I smiled proudly, “You know Ved Nagar is actually an infinite City that has its own City Government with several special privileges.”

“I know.”**

I got up slowly brushing against Al Ħamīdah’s thigh, hip and breast as she was firmly within my personal space and did not budge as my sweaty body rubbed against her.

Actually, I could see, hear, and feel her gasp as my shoulder and chest met her lovely, round melon Musalmān breast.

“Durgesh” from the house set Lubnā in motion as she sashayed towards the opening in the fence between her mansion and our house.

My eyes locked on those firm Musalmān globes of her, obviously toned, ass cheeks.

At the opening in the fence, she glanced over her shoulder to see me ogling her beautiful Musalmān ass.

A smirk of a smile swept across her face before she swished her ponytail and was gone.

I stacked the cinder blocks that I had knelt on beside the back step as I entered the house.

Lubnā said,

“Who were you talking to?”

I told her that Ħamīdah was shagging some tennis balls and we spoke just before she called me.

A shadow swept across Lubnā’s face before she said,

“Hurry with your shower. Don’t want lunch to get cold.”

Did she glance at my shorts and see my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund standing at attention?

I went up the stairs two at a time and hit the shower.

I wanted to take my time and relieve my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund, but that would have to wait till I had the proper amount of time I needed to re-live this last encounter with Ħamīdah.

After drying, I slipped on a tee shirt and nylon running shorts.

Didn’t immediately see my flip-flops, so I went back down stairs bare foot.

When I came into the kitchen, Lubnā was standing at the kitchen sink with her hands on spread on each side of her and her head canted slightly to the right.

Lubnā was at least 6 inches shorter than Ħamīdah, who was probably about 5 foot 2 inches tall.

I slipped up behind her, quietly, placed my lips near her neck, and said, “Hi! Gorgeous. What are you thinking about?”

She shuddered and leaned back against me wiggling her tight Musalmān ass against the front of my shorts.

She always tried to seduce me either this way or that.

My lips came in contact with her neck, and I could feel the goose flesh pop up, so I kissed her and slid my lips to her ear.

She took my hands, which I had placed on each side of her, and brought them up to her breasts.

I started to pull away, but she held them firmly in place and forced me to squeeze them gently with her hands.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was back at attention and pressing between Lubnā’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheeks as she ground her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ass against me in a circular motion.

Soon my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was sawing up and down her gorgeous Musalmān ass crack and my hands were squeezing her large, firm breasts with abandon.

She reached down, pulled her skirt above my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund, and then tugged my shorts down enough so his head would rub against her panties.

In a low, guttural voice, she said,

“Yes! Fuck me Durgesh. Fuck me hard.”

On one of my pullbacks, my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund slid between Lubnā’s legs and she spread them to welcome him.

It did take either of us more than countless strokes before we both came like crazy.

I squirted inside  her as I felt her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān cum wash over my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund .

Lubnā sagged against me and meowed a very contented purr as I kissed her neck with my open mouth.

Like a flash of lightning, Lubnā stood up straight and pushed me back with her butt before pulling her skirt down.

She turned in my arms, and said,

“Get over there and eat your lunch, ever young Hindu man!”

A look was on her face that I had not seen since before her husband was killed.

She reserved a stern, flint hard expression for me when I committed the most grievous crime around the house.

I looked deep into her flinty eyes and she said,

“Pull up your shorts and get over there and eat! NOW!”

I walked, on wooden legs, to the breakfast nook, slid in, and looked down at my plate.

What the hell just happened?

What did we just do?

Why did it happen?

I only did what she wanted, why was she yelling at me?

I could have been eating barbed wire for all I knew.

My mind was replaying every step of the last.

How long?

She is my Lubnā. I love her without condition.

I know she loves me, but Lubnās and Durgeshs don’t do that.

No!

They do!

Every Lubnā and Durgesh do it now everywhere.

Even if some Lubnā’s husband, some Al Ħamīd comes in the way, he is removed by the System now, this way or that way.

It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now.

No Musalmān could have sex now even with a Musalmān woman.

No Brāhmañ could have sex with a Brahmāñī or Brahmkanyā.

A Musalmān Choot could have only an Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.

A Brāhmañ Choot could enjoy only a Bachhalyā Lund into her.

Or, so they claimed.

Lubnā was only twenty-eight years old now, yet she was a widow and I had to fuck her now.

What triggered it?

I know I was horny from my encounter with Ħamīdah, but Lubnā?

She had not been out of the house since Lubnā gave her that red evening dress the year after her husband died, and they all went to the club.

Next morning, she made me take the dress back to Lubnā.

I guess Lubnā was horny too.

Too much pent up desires.

After all, she had devoted her life to me after her husband was killed. Scouts, PTA, Soccer, Football, Debate class.*

Al Jihad Al Vaqār began to read this morning’s edition of HVSI Times.

She had taken it from a pile at the foyer entrance to the newsroom.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār wondered appreciating it immensely how I manage to serve mostly only positive news to my readers, viewers and audiences and could still manage to be number One.

Most of the news channels and newspapers never believed they could even survive if they didn’t serve negative news tremendously.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār skipped the SARC news and other foreign dispatches, skimmed, scanned the national news from New Delhi and concerned on the metropolitan news.

The attraction playing in Ved Nagar, it appeared, was development everywhere, mainly smart cities, seaplanes and Bullet trains.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār had become engrossed in this seemingly endless parade of the pleasure.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

She heard her before she saw her.

“Ms. Nellie Bly, I presume?” Her voice carried a lilt of immense appreciation.*

Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s head came back.

She looked up as Bābarah Åālamgīr added.

“I’m Bābarah Åālamgīr, at your service, ma’am.”

Al Jihad Al Vaqār scrambled to her feet.

She was somewhat surprised and disconcerted, unsettled, by Bābarah Åālamgīr’s immensely good looks.

She had expected HVSI Times’ best investigative reporter to resemble an aggressive ferret or a mole.

Instead, Bābarah Åālamgīr resembled an aging collegian that could easily win any damn beauty contest with excellence.

Bābarah Åālamgīr had gray eyes, absolutely marvelous gray eyes meant to take any woman immensely jealous of her and any worthy young man crazy to get her.

Moreover, as so many investigative reporters did, Bābarah Åālamgīr didn’t smell any breath spray.

“I’m Al Jihad Al Vaqār – an intimate friend of your employer, Durgesh.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār introduced herself.

“I work for HVSI Times,” Bābarah Åālamgīr corrected Al Jihad Al Vaqār, “Durgesh doesn’t own HVSI. He is its lifelong Chairman only.”

“Yeah. HVSI is a democratic organization spread almost everywhere.”

“That’s right.”

We walked Al Jihad Al Vaqār about the endless newsroom, introducing her to a blur of receptive editors and reporters, mostly young Musalmān ladies, as Bābarah Åālamgīr tried to explain the organization of the newsroom.

Very little of what Bābarah Åālamgīr said was new to Al Jihad Al Vaqār.

It was similar to the organization of her own newspaper, only there was more of it, very very much more.

I pointed out the location of the desks of the metropolitan editors, national editors, foreign editors, and the partitioned offices holding the sports desks, financial desks, culture desks.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār lingered with Bābarah Åālamgīr and me beside the copydesks, formed in the shape of a horseshoe.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched editors, most of them being extraordinarily beautiful Musalmān young ladies, sorting publicity releases and going through folders containing leads to future news events.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār followed Bābarah Åālamgīr and me into the wire room where several teleprinters pounded out news from around the Multiverse.

Most of this was from the HVSI Times’ own special correspondents, the rest of them were HVSI Press, news agency, PTI and other similar news agencies’ sources.

The flood of words pouring in dazed Al Jihad Al Vaqār.

“How many words come in here every day?” she wondered.

I looked at her,

“You mean just on the wires? Or from our local reporters, police headquarters, City hall, and in general?”

“From everywhere.”

“About a million and three quarters words every twenty four hours. We print about 150, 000 of those words.”

Al Jihad Al Vaqār groaned.

“How’ll a reporter ever get a word in edgewise?”

“It’s not how much a reporter gets in,” I told Al Jihad Al Vaqār, “If s/he makes it as an investigative reporter, her/his words will get in, plenty of them.”

Al Jihad Al Vaqār trailed us through one department and office after another – advertising with its staff of 500, the morgue with its rows of clipping files, the reference library with its thousands of books, the picture editor’s offices and finally the composing room.

Each story came out there in computerized strips that were cut up, pasted onto boards, converted into plates that were photographed electronically.*

Lubnā came back from upstairs dressed in a cotton, print house dress that clung to her every curve without meaning to do that.

She did not speak or look at me, just slid into her place and began eating.

My mind spun like a wooden top.

When the last scrap on my plate was gone, I could not remember what I had just eaten.

I turned to Lubnā, whose face was down and said,

“When you are finished cleaning up, I want to talk to you in the living room.”

She did not look up or acknowledge that I had spoken.

I went to the living room and sat on the couch thinking about what I would say to Lubnā.

I went round and round and most everything sounded more like my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund talking than me.

I was going over everything for the 20th time when Lubnā came in.

She started to sit in the chair across the room, when I got up and guided her to the couch.

I sat her next to me and she burst into tears.

I pulled her to me, and could feel her sobbing and my tee shirt got wet from her tears.

I stroked her back in the best soothing motions I could manage while my mind boiled over with all the thoughts and emotions that I could manage. As her sobs subsided, I whispered into her hair,

“I love you with all my heart, Lubnā.”

This brought on another avalanche of sobs.

I patted her for a few minutes and then pulled her chin up and kissed her firmly on the lips.

Her eyes popped wide open, she pushed me back and said,

“Durgesh! This is wrong. I am your Bahū Bégum.”

I held her gaze steadily and said,

“No Lubnā. What is wrong is that both of us are living under this roof and we are both completely in need of sex. You need it even more than me. That’s why you never listened to me when I opposed it myself.”

“I’m sorry to suck you when you were asleep.”

“You didn’t only suck me you fucked me too wildly after sucking me.”

“You could have stopped me. You were never asleep. You were only pretending to be.”

“I didn’t want to insult you. I never insult a woman if she offers herself to me.”

“Why not?”

Chapter 23

—————————————————————————————

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 26

Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat

Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté

Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,

Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī

1/18: Ādi Parv

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 26

Durgesh Lajjā Mukherjī

Durgesh Sudhā Pandyā

Durgesh Smr’ti Kulkarñī

Durgesh Ābhā Upādhyāý

There were lots of crazy parties with women who wanted to have sex with me.

I hooked up with a bunch of them.

I’m not dating anybody seriously.

I really just wanted to concentrate on getting good women.

Although, I loved going to frat parties and certainly enjoyed loose women.

I was going to be spending the summer with my friend and his wife in Florida for the summer.

I was really looking forward to sleeping late, hanging by the pool, long soaks in the hot tub, and fun in the sun at the beach.

I didn’t plan on doing anything other than those things.

My friend would be out of town for the first month that I’ll be home.

He was doing volunteer work in Africa.

My friend was a wealthy man.

He owned ten car dealerships here in Florida.

He didn’t really work much these days.

He was more of a philanthropist.

He had always wanted to do work in Africa.

They were building a new hospital and he wanted to be involved with it.

He did say he’d make it up to me when he gets home.

Of course, Lajjā Mukherjī, his wife, would be home.

Lajjā Mukherjī was my friend’s little princess.

She didn’t do a damn thing.

I guess with her body and her looks she really didn’t have to do much.

I guess she was a trophy wife.

I wouldn’t mind having her on my arm.

She was a knockout.

Lajjā Mukherjī was thirty years old and my friend was sixty.

He really gets a kick out of her.

He treated her like his little prized Barbie doll.

I think he really gets off by it.

He bought her anything she wanted and even plastic surgery if she wanted that too.

I knew he had her breasts done, not sure she had any other work.

I often wonder if she cheated on my friend.

I didn’t know if she would.

She had a really wonderful life and I was sure she’d never want to fuck that up.

All she had to do is just look good.

She didn’t clean or cook.

He has people to do that for them.

She just had to always look like an absolute doll.

He must fuck her a lot.

I bet he popped Viagra all damn day to keep up with her.

I haven’t seen her since last summer, but Lajjā Mukherjī really makes my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund hard.

She had a hard Mukherjī Brāhmañ body.

She was very fit and always going to yoga classes.

Lajjā Mukherjī was 5’8″ and she had long blond hair, which she always put in an elastic band.

She had blue eyes and the longest legs.

Her breast implants were about a 38D.

My friend loved for her to wear very skimpy clothing.

My pants always get a little tight when looking at her body.

Lajjā Mukherjī was quite the flirt and loved to get a reaction out of people.

She loved me to want her.

It’s a whole little act that she does.

I really didn’t know if she’d really want to cheat, but I guess if my friend wasn’t around she might.

I guess time would tell.

I just arrived at the airport.

I walked over to the check-in desk and showed them my boarding pass and my airline ticket.

I checked my luggage and then proceeded to the security area.

After I was cleared, I then went to a coffee shop in the airport and bought a coffee and a magazine for the trip.

As I was waiting for the announcement to board our plane, I had noticed a lot of attractive women who were traveling alone.

Some of them were dressed to kill and I was hoping that I’d be lucky enough to sit next to one of them.

After about an hour, they finally made the announcement to board the plane.

All the passengers started to walk onto the plane.

Once inside the plane, I went to the overhead compartment and put my bag up inside the storage area.

My seat was by the window. I sat down and got myself comfortable.

I was pretty excited, one of the attracting looking babes sat down next to me.

She was really hot.

She had on a very short black dress.

She had enormous tits.

She was a blonde with blue eyes and she was really leggy.

She was really in great shape.

I knew this would be a fun trip.

I was already starting to get hard in my jeans.

It wasn’t a terribly crowded flight.

Thankfully, nobody else sat in the row.

It was just her and myself.

“Hey, I am Sudhā Pandyā.”

“Nice to meet you. I am Durgesh.”

“I am so glad to sit next to a hunk.”

“I am glad to be sitting next to a goddess.”

“You’re very sweet. I like you.”

We giggled and we put on our seat belts.

The stewardesses went over the safety instructions and then we were getting ready to take off.

The plane then got up into the air without any problems.

The stewardesses started to come around with the drink carts.

We were in the middle of the plane.

Sudhā Pandyā‘s dress was too tight.

I was able to get a really good look at her Pandyā Brāhmañ cleavage.

She had huge breasts.

I’d say she was 38D, kind of like Lajjā Mukherjī.

I was really hoping to have some fun with this babe in the air.

I was definitely wanting to fuck her and be part of the mile high club.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nobody steady. I go to college at the University of Alaska as an honorary Professor of Psychology. I was going to be staying at my friend’s for the summer.”

“That sounds lovely. I also go to the University of Alaska. I’ve never seen you there. In the fall, it’ll be my last year. I probably would continue and get my master’s degree. Nowadays, it seems you need to have that type of a degree.”

“I just finished up teaching my first year. We’ll have to exchange numbers so we can go out sometime. I’d love to see you again.”

“That would be really great. It’s nice to have interesting and gorgeous friends.”

Sudhā Pandyā put her hands on my thigh and she whispered into my ear.

“You’re really hot. I am so horny. Do you want to have some fun?”

I smiled at her with a wicked grin.

It was almost like she was reading my mind.

With that, she stood up and got a blanket out of the compartment storage.

She sat down and moved her dress up.

She wasn’t wearing any panties.

She spread her legs and put the blanket over her lap.

I then put my hand under the blanket and played with her clean shaved Pandyā Brāhmañ Choot.

She was one slutty bitch.

I rubbed her Pandyā Brāhmañ Choot and pushed my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund into her.

I fucked her.

Sudhā Pandyā was so wet.

I was so horny and needed to fuck her.

She was smiling when I played with her Pandyā Brāhmañ Choot.

She was moaning softly.

I could see her erect nipples showing through her dress.

She obviously was not wearing a bra.

I whispered in her ear.

“Go into the bathroom. I am going to fuck you. I’ll follow you in.”

“Thanks,” Sudhā Pandyā too whispered in my ear.

I groaned.

Sudhā Pandyā was a modern Brāhmañ girl.

Infinite BrāhmKalp had made even the Brāhmañ girls so ravenous for sex with me.

No Brahmkanyā or Brahmāñī could have sex with a Brāhmañ even now.

It was dangerous to her future.

The safe bet was only to have sex with me.

Sudhā Pandyā didn’t want to lose this golden chance.

She deliberately did it.

She had put detectives on me.

As soon as Sudhā Pandyā was informed that I was on the plane she successfully managed her seat beside me.

No more Brāhmañ husband.

Sudhā Pandyā had now enough of it.

She loved Manohar Pāŧhak, a brilliant Brāhmañ young man.

He suddenly found himself suffering from his false arrest.

“The Bachhalyās have framed Manohar, Dad,” Sudhā Pandyā claimed, “Only because I love him.”

Barrister Kamal Nayan Pandyā looked at his daughter curtly.

“Leave him, Sudhā. Let Manohar live. The sooner you leave Manohar, the sooner he would come out of jail.”

“I love him.” Sudhā Pandyā protested.

“You are ruining Manohar, and yourself too.”

“I hate Bachhalyās.” Sudhā Pandyā was all tears in her immense helplessness.

“In this Infinite BrāhmKalp, the System is allowing only a Bachhalyā husband for Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs even, only a Hindu husband for beautiful Musalmān houseladies etcetera.”

“I don’t believe it.” Sudhā Pandyā shouted, “The Bachhalyās are managing it. They are the ever shrewdest politicians in the entire history of humankind.”

Barrister Kamal Nayan Pandyā said sternly.

“You are killing Manohar Pāŧhak. He has already been sentenced to death penalty.”

Sudhā Pandyā surrendered.

She refused to marry Manohar Pāŧhak.

Within a week Manohar Pāŧhak was out of jail and the real culprit was apprehended.

Prem Prakāsh Chaturvedī was the second young man in Sudhā Pandyā’s life.

He suddenly found himself suffering from nonstop negative circumstances.

Sudhā Pandyā left him too.

Prem Prakāsh Chaturvedī married her friend, Shakīlah Sultān, and gone abroad.

I was Sudhā Pandyā’s third effort.

She then pulled her dress down and walked into the bathroom.

I shortly followed her and she let me in.

Once inside of the very small bathroom, we kissed deep and passionately.

Our tongues danced in each other’s mouth.

She took off her dress, I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet.

She put my cock at the entrance to her cunt and eased down on my cock.

Her cunt was so fucking wet.

I put my hands around her enormous tits and held them in my hands.

I squeezed them together and played with her hard nipples.

She put her hands on her knees and fucked my cock.

Her pussy felt so fucking good.

I bucked up inside her pussy.

I was loving her tight Pandyā Brāhmañ cunt.

“Hey Bhagvān! Oh God. I was so horny. You have the best cock. Come inside of me.” Sudhā Pandyā invited me.

I was fucking her fast.

I knew we didn’t have much time.

I let out a little moan and came inside of her wet Pandyā Brāhmañ snatch.

She then stood up and wiped the come with some toilet paper.

We kissed deep and passionately and I helped her put her dress back on.

I pulled my pants back up and she walked back to her seat.

I took a piss and then met her back on our seats.

I sat down and she had the biggest smile on her face.

“That was so hot. You have an amazing Bachhalyā cock. Thank you.”

“No problem. You’re a hot little fuck aren’t you? Do you do this a lot?”

“That was my first time. I always wanted to have sex in a plane. Thanks.”

“I had a blast. You’re one sexy babe. Hot Damn!”

I was pretty happy that we had fucked.

We exchanged numbers and agreed we’d get together once we were back.

She was just going to be visiting Florida for a few days and then she’d be back on a plane to New York for the summer.

She had gotten an internship at some fashion company.

We eventually landed and got off the plane and went through security.

I went to baggage claim to collect my bags.

I then saw Lajjā Mukherjī.

I couldn’t believe what she was wearing.

She looked so fucking hot.

She had on this little denim skirt, with a red tube top, and heels.

Her nipples were poking out of her tube top.

Durgesh, over here!”

“Hey, Lajjā Mukherjī? How are you doing?”

I gave Lajjā Mukherjī  a hug and a kiss.

She of course felt my erection in my jeans.

I just knew this was going to be an interesting day.

“You look great. You’ve really filled out. You must have been hitting the gym at college. You’ve turned into quite a handsome and strapping ever young man.”

“Lajjā Mukherjī, you’re not much older.”

We both giggled.

I was thinking she was the hottest wife on the planet.

She really could be my girlfriend.

My friend was one lucky guy.

“Let’s go home. I have a limo waiting for us.”

We walked out and got into the limo.

Lajjā Mukherjī looked amazing.

I was feeling really good since I just fucked Sudhā Pandyā in the bathroom.

But, looking at Lajjā Mukherjī was making me feel horny again.

“How is college going?”

“It was a great year.”

“That’s excellent. Your friend would be very pleased.” Lajjā Mukherjī smiled, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nobody serious. Just lots of girls wanting to hook up. I was happy.”

“I bet you’re happy.”

“You look great, Lajjā Mukherjī.”

“Thanks sweetie.”

“Do you want some champagne? Open the bottle. Let’s celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Summer, darling.”

I popped the champagne and poured Lajjā Mukherjī a flute of it.

“To a wonderful summer.”

We clicked glasses and she drank the bubbly champagne.

She had about three glasses.

I saw that Lajjā Mukherjī had shut her eyes.

I was just glancing over her hot body.

She really was one hot piece of Mukherjī Brāhmañ ass.

Eventually, we got home.

I followed Lajjā Mukherjī into the house.

“I was going to unpack and then take a shower. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“I called some of my friends to come over and take a swim. I think you’ll like them. See you later. Come down and hang out with us by the pool.”

I went upstairs and unpacked.

I then went into the shower.

While I was in there, I was thinking about Lajjā Mukherjī.

I continued washing my body and then I got out of the shower.

I wrapped a fluffy towel around myself and put my swimming trunks on.

I went downstairs and went outside.

Lajjā Mukherjī and her two friends were hanging out in the hot tub.

They were drinking and laughing and having a great time.

The sun was shining it was a rather warm day.

Durgesh, come over here. Let me introduce you to my friends.” Lajjā Mukherjī said, “Durgesh, this is Smr’ti Kulkarñī and Ābhā Upādhyāý. This is Durgesh.”

“Nice to meet you ladies.”

“You didn’t tell us how gorgeous he is.”

“I haven’t seen him in a while. He was very tasty looking.”

“Why didn’t you sit in the tub with us?”

“You must take your bathing suit off. We’re all naked in here.”

I took my bathing suit off and got into the water.

I was pretty stoked that I was in a hot tub with three gorgeous young ladies.

I sat next to Lajjā Mukherjī and she immediately put her hand on my Bachhalyā cock.

She was stroking me.

One of her friends was on the other side and she was playing with my balls.

It didn’t take any time whatsoever for me to get hard.

I had a raging hard on.

Now I just needed to get fucked.

Any of them would do.

“You know we could really have some fun today, Durgesh. Your friend lets me have sex when he is out of town. Usually with my girlfriends. We just won’t tell him that you and I are having sex. We’re not related anyhow. I have always wanted to have sex with you.”

“I am totally for it. Let’s do it. I won’t tell my friend a damn thing.”

“We can all fuck him, Lajjā Mukherjī. Let’s all ride his Bachhalyā cock and then we can bring him into the house and have some fun.”

“Do you want to fuck us, Durgesh?”

“Fuck yes. I’ll fuck you all. Hop on my Bachhalyā cock. Who wanted to be first?”

Lajjā Mukherjī hopped up on me in the hot tub.

She put her legs on either side of mine.

She guided my Bachhalyā cock into her Mukherjī Brāhmañ pussy.

She made sure to get it all inside of her and then started to rock and move over my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

I put my hands all over her enormous Mukherjī Brāhmañ breasts and we shared a deep and passionate kiss.

Her other two Brāhmañ friends were making out with each other, while I was fucking Lajjā Mukherjī.

Lajjā Mukherjī’s Mukherjī Brāhmañ Choot felt really nice around  my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

She was really tight.

I started to buck up inside of her.

“Oh Durgesh, your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund feels so good. Oh God. You’re so big. Oh fuck.”

Lajjā Mukherjī was slapping her Mukherjī Brāhmañ Choot up and down over my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

I was squeezing on her erect Brāhmañ nipples, while we were fucking.

“Let us too fuck him.”

“You can fuck him later. He is mine right now.”

Lajjā Mukherjī’s young Brāhmañ body felt so good on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

I was fucking her deep and hard.

I could feel her Mukherjī Brāhmañ Choot clamping down on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

“I am going to come. Oh fuck. I am coming.”

I came in Lajjā Mukherjī‘s Mukherjī Brāhmañ Choot.

We kissed deep and passionately and then she hopped off me.

“Let’s take Durgesh inside. We can all suck his cock and he can lick our pussies.”

Lajjā Mukherjī laughed.

“Smr’ti Kulkarñī, Ābhā Upādhyāý, you both are damnfools. You only dream of Durgesh. You don’t know anything about him.”

Smr’ti Kulkarñī and Ābhā Upādhyāý looked at each other.

Then Smr’ti Kulkarñī asked.

“What do you mean?”

“We can suck Durgesh’s ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund  as much as we want. But Durgesh would never lick our pussies.”

Ābhā Upādhyāý was furious.

“Why not? We are Brāhmañ girls. We are the most cleanest of all of women.”

“Yet most coldest too.” Lajjā Mukherjī said, “Almost all of our Brāhmañ mankind is crazy to have beautiful Musalmān houseladies as their sex partners.”

Ābhā Upādhyāý looked at Smr’ti Kulkarñī.

“Our traditional Brāhmañ society is the most sexless society of all.” Smr’ti Kulkarñī accepted, “It’s the only society that despises sex as much as it crowns Celibacy in the name of Brahmcharý.”

I smiled.

“‘Brahmcharyéñ kanyā yuvānam vindaté patim’, what does it mean then?”

Lajjā Mukherjī smiled.

“That’s the problem. Traditional Brāhmañs don’t have any Vedic background for what they are doing now.”

Smr’ti Kulkarñī watched Lajjā Mukherjī angrily.

“Are you changing your denomination now? You are talking as if you already belong to Durgesh’s Saur Sampradāý, instead of our Brāhm Sampradāý.”

Lajjā Mukherjī smiled.

“I’m a COMMUNIST. Most of us Bengalese Brāhmañs are Communists. Brāhmañism is actually out of date now.”

Smr’ti Kulkarñī said curtly.

“Are you ashamed of yourself that you are a Brāhmañ, Lajjā Mukherjī?”

“What’s there to be proud of? Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī herself announced we Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs both need a Bachhalyā husband. She rejected a Brāhmañ husband outright for us Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs even. They are most unreliable for us. They can surrender to Celibacy anytime. They can choose to Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat and opt for severities for Muslimāt. That’s what this damn Infinite BrāhmKalp is.”

We all got out of the hot tub.

Lajjā Mukherjī’s friends were all knock outs.

They all were blondes and all had implants.

I’d say they all had 38D tits.

They were all thin with blue eyes and bodies to die for.

I was pretty excited that these traditional Brāhmañ bitches were going to suck on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund now.

I have a seven inch cock. I keep my cock and balls shaved. Smr’ti Kulkarñī and Ābhā Upādhyāý held my hand and I followed Lajjā Mukherjī into the house.

We went upstairs to her bedroom.

I kind of felt funny to be in my friend’s bedroom with his slutty Communist Brāhmañ wife and her two friends. But, that thought left my mind quickly.

“I’ll ride his face and you traditional Brāhmañ girls can suck his ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund. I want to feel my husband’s Bachhalyā friend’s Bachhalyā male lips on my Communist traditional Brāhmañ snatch.”

I got comfortable on the bed.

Lajjā Mukherjī stood up on either side of my head and squatted down.

I kissed her Communist traditional Brāhmañ Choot.

She had the prettiest cunt ever.

I had already fucked her immensely.
“Oh God. Durgesh, Your Bachhalyā male lips feel amazing on my Communist traditional Brāhmañ Choot. Fucking hell.”

Ābhā Upādhyāý and Smr’ti Kulkarñī got busy on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

Each traditional Brāhmañ young lady sucked on one of my balls.

They both were on either side of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund. Smr’ti Kulkarñī kissed and licked my Bachhalyā shaft on the left and Ābhā Upādhyāý did the same on the right side.

Ābhā Upādhyāý put my Bachhalyā mushroom head into her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ mouth and started to suck it.

Smr’ti Kulkarñī was holding my one ball and sucking the other one.

It felt like heaven.

“Your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund tastes so good.”

“Let me suck him now.”

Ābhā Upādhyāý took my cock out of her mouth and then Smr’ti Kulkarñī started to suck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

She brought her Kulkarñī Mahñrāshŧrian Brāhmañ mouth all the way down on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund  and then all the way back up.

Smr’ti Kulkarñī really did the most amazing blow jobs.

She worked her Deshasth Brāhmañ mouth up and down fast over my long ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

Ābhā Upādhyāý was sucking on both of my Bachhalyā balls.

“I want to fuck Durgesh now. Lajjā Mukherjī, let Smr’ti Kulkarñī ride his face.” Ābhā Upādhyāý announced boldly.

Ābhā Upādhyāý then got on top of me.

She herself guided my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund into her wet Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot.

She rocked and moved on my stiff ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund. Smr’ti Kulkarñī hoped up on my face and I kissed and loved her beautiful Deshasth Brāhmañ Choot.

Ābhā Upādhyāý was fucking me really good.

Her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot felt really nice around my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

Lajjā Mukherjī then pulled out my cock.

She rubbed some lube on Ābhā Upādhyāý’s Upādhyāý Brāhmañ ass and slid my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund into her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ ass.

Now I was fucking Ābhā Upādhyāý’s beautiful Upādhyāý Brāhmañ ass with my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

“Oh Lajjā Mukherjī that feels so good. Oh fuck!” Ābhā Upādhyāý closed her beautiful Upādhyāý Brāhmañ eyes.

“You have the tightest little traditional Brāhmañ ass. Do you like me fucking you there?” I kissed Ābhā Upādhyāý.

“Oh yes, Durgesh, Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ,  Bachhalyā Piyā. Fuck my Upādhyāý Brāhmañ ass.”

Lajjā Mukherjī held Ābhā Upādhyāý’s ass and I fucked her.

Then I started to buck up inside of her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot.

Ābhā Upādhyāý started to orgasm around my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and then I blew my load in her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot.

“Well that was lots of fun.”

“Fucking yes. It was a ball.”

I think we’re going to have an amazing summer. I think you’ll be our permanent boy toy now.

“How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a dream. I’d love to fuck you beautiful traditional Brāhmañ ladies whenever you want. I was sure it’ll be an awesome summer. Hell, I’ll feel like Charlie and his angels. Remember that silly show?”

We all giggled.

Smr’ti Kulkarñī and Ābhā Upādhyāý got dressed and left.

Lajjā Mukherjī went to take a shower and got ready for bed.

I went to my room, watched some television and eventually fell asleep.

I dreamed of not the beautiful Musalmān houseladies I fuck usually, all the beautiful traditional Brāhmañ young women instead I fucked today.

Chapter 27

——————————————————————————————-

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 25

Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat

Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté

Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,

Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī

1/18: Ādi Parv

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 25

Durgesh Urmi Upādhyāý

Durgesh Supriyā Bhārgav

Coasting to a stop in front of the house, Nishikānt Joshī was surprised to see his wife’s Green Mercedes parked in the driveway.

Urmi Upādhyāý had found work as a teller in a branch office of a big downtown bank a couple of years ago.

She was a hard worker and had already received a number of pay raises.

The hours were okay. Urmi Upādhyāý only had to work half-days on Saturday, and even that only one in four weekends.

This Saturday wasn’t on her schedule, though, and today wasn’t her day off even if it had been.

Nishikānt Joshī didn’t know why Urmi Upādhyāý was home.

It concerned him because it was so out of character for her.

He walked quickly around the side of the house and in through the kitchen door.

The door hinges were well lubricated.

After all, Nishikānt Joshī was a building contractor.

It was a matter of professional pride to make sure small repairs around the house were taken care of immediately.

Everything was well maintained.

He liked things that way.

He hated squeaks, drawers that didn’t open, windows that didn’t close right…things like that drove Nishikānt Joshī crazy.

Neither the screen door nor the kitchen door itself made any perceptible noise when Nishikānt Joshī opened them.

The couple he could see through the doorway into the living room ostensibly wouldn’t have heard Nishikānt Joshī anyway.

Urmi Upādhyāý and I were too involved with each other.

Nishikānt Joshī froze in his tracks when he saw Urmi Upādhyāý and me.

He’d never contemplated seeing his wife in my arms,  even kissing me.

And he’d surely never thought to see me cupping Urmi Upādhyāý’s bare right breast and working the nipple to a dark red erection with a rapidly moving thumb.

Urmi Upādhyāý was naked to the waist.

Nishikānt Joshī saw her blouse and bra draped across the couch just beyond her.

Her skirt was hiked up past the crotch of her pantyhose and Nishikānt Joshī could see my other hand on her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ sex.

My body hid Urmi Upādhyāý‘s hands, but her upper right arm and elbow were quite visible.

Urmi Upādhyāý and I were moving rhythmically back and forth.

There was no doubt her hand was on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and giving me a slow hand job.

Her partial nakedness said the hand job was only a preliminary.

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! God, Urmi Upādhyāý,” I said hoarsely, “I’ve waited so long for today. Don’t tease me, okay?” My voice turned more than a little plaintive right at the last.

Urmi Upādhyāý giggled delightedly.

“Have you, Durgesh, Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ, Bachhalyā Piyā?” she replied in a light, coquettish tone.

She was playing with my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

She brought her hand up to my chest and ground her lower body against mine.

“Was it worth the wait?” she asked seductively.

A red-hot fury engulfed Nishikānt Joshī.

He didn’t think; he couldn’t.

He could only react.

One moment he was frozen in shock.

With his next heartbeat, he was moving swiftly forward, striding purposefully through the kitchen and partway into the living room.

Planting his left foot solidly on the carpet, he brought his right one up in a tight arc that ended in my crotch.

At the last moment, I sensed something behind me…a whisper of Nishikānt Joshī’s shoes on the carpet perhaps, or his looming presence.

Without thinking, I moved away from a threat I had not yet properly identified and into closer contact with Urmi Upādhyāý. That was unfortunate for the woman.

She probably wouldn’t have been hurt if I’d kept still.

The instep of Urmi Upādhyāý’s heavy ladies shoe smashed into the Nishikānt Joshī’s testicles and drove his whole body forward and up.

Urmi Upādhyāý was a strong woman and she’d had a few steps to build up momentum.

It was only the steel-reinforced tip of the boot that slammed into Nishikānt Joshī’s butt but it was more than enough.

Sensitive nerve endings fired instantly, sending simultaneous pain signals to Nishikānt Joshī’s badly confused brain.

For a long moment Nishikānt Joshī didn’t have any breath to scream.

It had been driven from his body by the sudden intense pain in Nishikānt Joshī’s abdomen.

Nishikānt Joshī stumbled against the sofa and clung to it for an instant.

Urmi Upādhyāý had time to set her right foot back down on the floor and ready herself to deliver more punishment.

Her normally pleasant features were twisted into a rictus of tormented rage.

Urmi Upādhyāý took a step deeper into the living room and closer to the shocked husband.

She’d been planning to do further damage to Nishikānt Joshī in front of me but it was abruptly clear nothing more was required.

Nishikānt Joshī began to scream in a high-pitched voice that filled the room.

He collapsed to the floor and began to writhe in agony.

The excruciating pain was overwhelming, worthy of the Marquis de Sade’s most inventive tortures.

Nishikānt Joshī was unable to do anything but scream so piercingly he was close to rupturing his vocal cord.

Urmi Upādhyāý and I stood back, watching Nishikānt Joshī thrash around on the floor while the screams assaulted our ears.

Nevertheless, Nishikānt Joshī saw his wife’s breasts bounce wildly on her chest as her body jerked uncontrollably.

Her lower body was exposed, though covered by her pantyhose. He could see her palms pressed tightly against her vulva.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund was still jutting obscenely, yet still immensely attractive from my zipper.

There hadn’t been enough time for the blood to leave it.

It was still hard…still ready to be driven into Nishikānt Joshī’s  extremely beautiful twenty eight years old wife, Urmi Upādhyāý’s willing Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot.

The vulgar display sickened Nishikānt Joshī but something else was wrong too.

He looked down.

To his horror, he saw the bulge in his work pants.

He realized his cock was hard, perhaps harder, longer, and thicker than it had ever been before.

A deep shame overcame the anger in his mind, blanking the fury in the space between two heartbeats.

He was mortified.

His own body was betraying him.

He could not be aroused by the sight of his wife about to have sex with Durgesh, his ever successful Bachhalyā Jījū.

It wasn’t possible; he was not that kind of man.

His roars, born of renewed fury and deep humiliation, blended with the agonized shrieks of himself.

It was one thing that Urmi Upādhyāý, Nishikānt Joshī’s twenty eight years old extremely beautiful Upādhyāý Brāhmañ wife and I were prepared for Nishikānt Joshī’s every potential attack already, yet it was quite another thing that his Joshī Brāhmañ penis was appreciating what Urmi Upādhyāý was doing with me.

How the hell it happened?

Does it mean in this Infinite BrāhmKalp Nishikānt Joshī’s such intense humiliation was absolutely a normal event?

Only because Nishikānt Joshī and Urmi Upādhyāý were traditional Brāhmañs and Durgesh was a Bachhalyā?
Durgesh was already fucking now the entire beautiful Brāhmañ houseladies of Nishikānt Joshī’s household.

Even his otherwise immensely sophisticated Bhābhī, Supriyā Bhārgav, argued that the Musalmīn allowed their entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies to fuck Durgesh everywhere.

If the Brāhmañs wouldn’t do the same thing, the Brāhmañs would again lose to the Musalmīn once more.

“The stupid Brāhmañs as you are, Nishikānt Joshī, would again ruin what Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu has recovered and Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī had fought fiercely to retain.”

Nishikānt Joshī had as if fallen from sky.

“Supriyā Bhābhī, you mean… you mean…”

“Yes!” Instead of Supriyā Bhārgav, Nishikānt Joshī’s elder brother, Karuñākānt Joshī, said, “Your Supriyā Bhābhī is correct, Nishikānt. You keep forgetting, it’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now. We Brāhmañs are entrusted now to greater duties.”

Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat?” Nishikānt Joshī asked sarcastically.

“Of course!”

“Bhaiyā,” Nishikānt Joshī said bitterly, “I can understand now why Brāhmañs are so devoted to advertise that it’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now.”

“Oh,” Karuñākānt Joshī said looking at his younger brother sympathetically, “Why?”

“You Brāhmañs are not interested in your so called Infinite BrāhmKalp now. You are interested actually in beautiful Musalmān houseladies who can’t get Durgesh himself for them.”

“Anything wrong in it?” Karuñākānt Joshī asked curtly.

“You were never satisfied with Supriyā Bhābhī.” Nishikānt Joshī said bitterly, “Her sophisticated behavior was never suitable to you. You were always interested, instead, in her ultramodern beautiful Musalmān lady friends.”*

Karuñākānt Joshī watched his younger brother, Nishikānt Joshī, scornfully.

“Who are you to discuss my married life activities and my sex activities? You are my younger brother, not my wife. Hinduism/Ved never allow any houseperson to interfere in the married life of another houseperson. It’s the only practical way to keep a joint family survive with ‘Modmānau Svastakau’, ‘Modmānau Své gr’hé’.”

Nishikānt Joshī gritted through his teeth.

“Bhaiyā, never accept every argument Durgesh offers, without thinking its consequences. Imām Muħammad Ħasan blundered in this way. Now he is a cuckold.”

“I don’t think so, Nishikānt.” Karuñākānt Joshī said gravely.

“What?” Nishikānt Joshī was stunned.

“I think Imām Muħammad Ħasan is one of the greatest persons of nowadays.”

“Because he has surrendered the entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies of his household to Durgesh?” Nishikānt Joshī laughed ironically, “I never thought you have fallen to this level. I’m sorry to find you too salute the rising sun to this extent.”

Chief Justice Vishwambhar Sharmā Supreme Court Multiverse is perhaps too a cuckold in your bright opinion, Mr. Nishikānt Joshī.” Karuñākānt Joshī also laughed equally ironically, rather more ironically.*

Nishikānt Joshī looked at his older brother scornfully.

“You deliberately compelled Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī to have no option except to join Durgesh’s bed.”

Supriyā Bhārgav is my wife. You don’t have any moral or legal right to comment how we should behave in our married life.”

“You wanted more sex than Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī could offer you, being a Brahm Padminī.”

“And it’s a sin to need more sex than one’s wife can offer him?” Karuñākānt Joshī himself was scornful at Nishikānt Joshī now.

Nishikānt Joshī was stunned momentarily.

He could not disagree with his elder brother, Karuñākānt Joshī, now.

Nishikānt Joshī himself was educated enough to understand that the sexual need of a male or a female was actually the need of the environment surrounding them, not that of their own bodies actually.

The environment surrounding a life form whether the life form is a male or a female always needs fresh base pairs for the survival of that life form.

To fulfill this need of the environment the life form starts to have sexual need.

The more intense the need of fresh base pairs of the environment the more intense the sexual need of the life form.

Nishikānt Joshī was a Post Graduate from HVSI Multiversity.

He had seen his Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī teasing me every now and then.

He never liked it.

However Nishikānt Joshī couldn’t even stop his Bhābhī from teasing me.

They were traditional Brāhmañs.

Every traditional society has some traditions out of date it’s careless to change and update itself.

The Pseudo Musalmīn were the worst example of it.

They were too adamant to keep their outdated traditions that they refused to use their common sense even if it were against their enormously outdated traditions.

To kill the other societies for one’s own survival was a tradition among then uncivilized societies once.

The Pseudo Musalmīn were foolishly still adamant to practice it, because they never tried to understand it isn’t needed anymore.

The Democracy has not only its solution but the fair competition too to the survival of the fittest system of life.*

I had noticed Supriyā Bhārgav was always ahead of my other Brāhmañ Salhajs, the other beautiful Brāhmañ wives of my Brāhmañ Sālās, here.

The Infinite BrāhmKalp had started to project its time cycle.

Despite the fact that the ever last Kaliyug itself had its time cycle unfinished for as long as 4, 27, 000 years.

Supriyā Bhārgav always smiled at me more seductively whenever she was around me anywhere.

I understood very well it was only a generous courtesy, not any invitation, or seduction, at all.

I was the son in law of the house.

The youngest daughter of the Pragyākānt Joshī family, Shuchi Joshī, had announced,

“I’ve decided to live in relationship with Durgesh.

Everyone was stunned.

Supriyā Bhārgav tried to break the hostile silence.

“Well, I think we should talk first, Shuchi.”

“That’s a very good idea, Bahūrānī.” Pragyākānt Joshī greeted the suggestion very warm heartedly.

“Well,” Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ smiled gravely, “Pragyākānt Joshī, Durgesh was my own boyfriend before we married. I hope you still remember it.”

“I can’t help, Ammī,” Shuchi Joshī smiled naughtily, “if you were a cougar once.”

“Shuchi,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “you must be ashamed of yourself for the comment on your own Ammī.”

“It’s all right, PK.” Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ smiled bravely, “Our children have different morals from me. You knew about my ultramodern morals and you married me with them. They didn’t.”

“Nevertheless, Ůzrah,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “Even if she doesn’t appreciate your morals, being a Brahmkanyā she must respect at least Imām Nārīm Sukr’té dadhāt and Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat. She isn’t a child anymore. She is twenty eight years old and a PhD now.”

“Sure,” Shuchi Joshī said, “I never criticized Ammī for her past. Nevertheless, I would never allow her past to affect my own life adversely.”*

Supriyā Bhārgav regretted her decision to marry a traditional Brāhmañ almost as soon as she married Karuñākānt Joshī.

No, he wasn’t a bad man.

Instead, Karuñākānt Joshī was a very good man.

The entire Pragyākānt Joshī family was actually too good to be beneficial to themselves.

That was the problem.

Being a traditional Brāhmañ herself, Supriyā Bhārgav knew very well traditional Brāhmañs didn’t need their enemies outside.

Their overhumanity itself was a greatest enemy of all of them.

They were good to the extent to be harmful to themselves.

“We must be practical, KK.” Supriyā Bhārgav had suggested.

“You never told me you were a Brahm Padminī,”  Karuñākānt Joshī looked at her incredibly beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife gravely.

Supriyā Bhārgav watched him gravely herself.

“Nowadays it isn’t any asset to us Brahmkanyās, Karuñākānt.”

Supriyā,” Karuñākānt Joshī looked at her.

He never anticipated such a depression in his so well educated PhD Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife.

“No traditional Brāhmañ now really wants to marry us Brahm Padminīs, KK, despite our incredible Brahm Padminī beauty.”

“I know, Supriyā,”

“It was our greatest asset when we first came into existence. The entire ever first Brahm Jagdambās were Brahm Padminīs.”

Karuñākānt Joshī couldn’t say anything.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t blame the traditional Brāhmañs even.

They were also normal men.

They too wanted to enjoy their married life.

He tried to blame the Western Culture.
Chapter 26

————————————————————————————————

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 23

Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat

Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté

Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,

Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī

1/18: Ādi Parv

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 23

Durgesh Dr. Ramā Bhārgav

Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav 

Durgesh Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl

Durgesh Dr. Sītā Bhārgav

Lurching forward, I buried my face in her Bhārgav Brāhmañ bosom.

I was wildly kissing and thrashing my face in her tits and groping her gorgeous, twenty eight years old, exquisite, bottom with both my hands kneading her gorgeous, twenty eight years old, exquisite, perfectly round, firm, young, Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks.

Again taking charge, Ramā Bhārgav climbed on my chest, pushing me backward onto the bed while sliding and grinding her wet Bhārgav Brāhmañ snatch down my torso.

She was lying on top of me when we finally came to be face to face, and she planted another deep kiss on me, clutching both my wrists over my head while pinning me to the bed.

She whispered in my ear,

“It’s a process, Durgesh, Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ, Bachhalyā Piyā.”

Then, with a pregnant pause, she whispered in my other ear,

“And it’s a process of pleasure.”

Her soft voice and breath in my ears sent shivers down my spine and gave me goose flesh.

“You must learn to relax, savor and enjoy it,” Dr. Ramā Bhārgav PhD, my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Sālī, my Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife, my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Sālī Wife, continued.

Calmed by this, I lay motionless, glad to let her lead the way.

My ego wasn’t even slightly affected.

I let those thoughts slip away as Ramā Bhārgav  took over.

As she kissed my neck, she caressed my arms and chest softly, barely even touching.

First it was the tongue, then a kiss, and then another little bit of tongue.

That was her technique as she worked her way down.

Her Ammī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl, had trained her herself.

“Never surrender to your damnfool Bhārgav Brāhmañ father’s ever utopian morals, Fātimah Jalāl,”

Ramā Bhārgav,” Ramā Bhārgav corrected.

“Fātimaaaaaaaaaaah Jalāaaaaaaaaaaal,” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl refused violently to accept her correction, “You aren’t Ramā Bhārgav actually. Your damnfool Bhārgav Brāhmañ father, Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, calls you with that ridiculous name. You are Fātimah Jalāl. Understand? That’s how I named you.”

Lying on my back with my legs off the edge of the bed with knees bent, feet touching the ground, Fātimah Jalāl, Ramā Bhārgav?, knelt between my legs.

I felt her mouth and tongue on my ball bag.

With one long lick she went up the length of my hard Bachhalyā Lund, teasing me with her beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth, and then she took every inch of it down her throat.

A new achievement for a Bhārgav Brāhmañ young lady?

The Muslimāt must be defeated in snatching away the Bachhalyās from Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs.

The Muslimāt should never have any supremacy on Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs even in sex for Bachhalyās.

That’s how they win ever immensely capable Bachhalyās.

Her elder sisters Rudrāñī Bhārgav, Pārvatī Bhārgav, Umā Bhārgav, Durgā Sinhvāhinī Mahishāsur Mardnī Bhārgav, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, had instructed Ramā Bhārgav.

I was blasted away by this!

It wasn’t that I’d never been sucked off before, but I was still under the impression that you had to work on a girl for a long time to get her to suck you.

A blow job on a first time was a foreign idea to me.

I’d always had to wait in relationships for a long time before a girl would bestow oral pleasure upon me.

My youth and my still ignorance were apparent to me even as it was happening.

With a flat, open hand Ramā Bhārgav gingerly lifted my swollen balls from the back and gently pushed them toward the base of my throbbing Bachhalyā meatpole.

Then, taking a long, slow, deep, fluid swallow, she made my manhood disappear once again.

Down, down all the way, down deep, and then holding me there for a long second.

Coming up in ultra-slow motion.

The way Ramā Bhārgav lifted my scrotum while she made long, slow passes up and down my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund did something to intensify the sensation.

There was no doubt this Bhārgav Brāhmañ young woman was good now with my Bachhalyā Lund  and had seen plenty of it now.

Then, all at once, she started to ratchet up both the suction and speed, bobbing her beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ head more vigorously and sucking down my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund  with more Bhārgav Brāhmañ energy.

Or, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female energy?

Fātimah Jalāl?

Not Ramā Bhārgav at all?

After all, she learned all of it not from her father, Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, but from her ever profound feminist Ammī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl.

“If you want to remain confined exclusively to Durgesh only, it’s all right, Fātimah Jalāl,”

Ramā Bhārgav,” Ramā Bhārgav corrected again.

“Fātimah Jalāl, shut up! Nevertheless, never let him dominate you, not even in sex.” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl, Ramā Bhārgav’s ever profound feminist Ammī, had instructed her.

Ramā Bhārgav‘s hands were also more active.

As she sucked me, she began to caress and tickle the underside of my seed bag, slowly roaming to the little place where the scrotum ends.

This was a new sensation, and even my utmost experienced mind was getting in the way again.

Her hand held my balls, her Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth owned my Bachhalyā hog, and her fingertips were inching toward my hips.

Part of me was saying to myself internally,

“You can’t let her touch your hips! You’re a man!”

Both sides of my brain came to an agreement:

They agreed to stop her hand and the blowjob as well for fear that I might cum before I got to fuck her.

Covered in sweat, I lightly directed her head up until she took my tool out of her mouth.

She looked up with her beautiful eyes and quickly got the hint.

She arose and then lay beside me.

I turned to her and asked,

“Do you want this?” as I placed her hand on my stiff Bachhalyā member.

“Yes,” she said, never looking away from me.

“Then what shall we call it?” I teased in an attempt at sexy pillow talk.

“Your cock,” she answered in her soft alluring way.

“And what about this?” I asked as I stroked the lips of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ vulva with my fingers.

“My pussy,” she replied.

Almost involuntarily I blurted out my first sexy talk.

“I want to fuck your Bhārgav Brāhmañ pussy, your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, Ramā Bhārgav, Fātimah Jalāl, whosoever the hell you are.”

Ramā Bhārgav just smiled and cooed.

Ramā Bhārgav. I love to remain Ramā Bhārgav. But I can’t break my Ammī’s heart even. Dad, Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, says, ‘Mātrā bhavatu sammanāh’ iti Eīshānādésham.”

Feeling relaxed and unashamed to talk sexy felt liberating and free.

In fact, I liked it and loved the fact the she was getting off hearing me say those words.

She talked right back at me.

“You, the man I fuck, are older than me when all I want is your hard, experienced Bachhalyā cock. Sure, you have money, and you can keep it! I have my own money too not to be dependent on you financially. My ever profound feminist Ammī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl, hates immensely that any of her countless daughters be ever dependent on any male whether financially or otherwise.”

I digested the immensely valuable information about Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl and her entire countless daughters whether Brāhmañ daughters or Musalmān daughters, whosoever they were.

Ramā Bhārgav hummed to me like a seductive cat.
“I wanna get fucked again and again all night,”
I looked at her.

“So you don’t mind that I’m sixty six now,” It was a grave question, asked equally gravely.
“No, I want to have you because you’re sixty six,” she too looked at me gravely.

Her dominant personality was taking control of me again.

Yet, Ramā Bhārgav herself knew she never succeeded in controlling me.

No woman however beautiful she were had succeeded ever in controlling me.

Was it because I was more Shaktimān, full of Cosmic energy, than anyone of them?

Ramā Bhārgav didn’t know for certain.

Ramā Bhārgav only knew I was never putty in her hands. She was never the boss, yet she no longer cared.

“I’m twenty nine,” Ramā Bhārgav said, shifting her beautiful young Bhārgav Brāhmañ eyes toward my ever handsome ever young utmost experienced Bachhalyā hard-on and gesturing at it with her chin, “and you don’t seem to mind. Why should your age bother me? It is Infinite BrāhmKalp now. Is it not?”

The room was steamed up by our sweating Bachhalyā Brahmkanyā bodies.

The glorious smell of her excellent Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot juice mixed with her perfume and our sweat hung in the air.

I spread her thick, shapely legs.

I mounted Ramā Bhārgav in the missionary position, looking down at her steaming Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot, glistening with her wetness.

I slid my sixty six years old, utmost experienced legendary Bachhalyā Lund into her hot, wet Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot, wrapping my arms around her for leverage, then launching myself into her as hard as I could, finishing the move with a hump and snap of my pelvis.

I would repeat this over and over till the end – A power fuck as hard and fast as I could.

Ramā Bhārgav needed it.

The Infinite BrāhmKalp needed it.

Ramā Bhārgav‘s moans and whimpers were spurring me on.

She hadn’t had her Bhārgav Brāhmañ honey pot slammed by me this hard in a long time, if ever.

This was hard, hot and wild sex.

It was all I knew.

As the utmost expert in the art of fucking I thought this was the best and only method in which to satisfy Ramā Bhārgav.

It seemed to be working.

Again, in my expertise in the art of fucking, I managed to find just what she wanted.

Ramā Bhārgav was a Brahm Padminī.

Nevertheless to keep optimum for the Infinite BrāhmKalp needs, not only Ramā Bhārgav, the entire Brahm Padminīs

Too instead, were trying to improve themselves constantly.

The moans and screams were nice to hear.

Ramā Bhārgav had taken over, and I felt she needed to know that I was the man and I would do the fucking.

“You like getting fucked, don’t you!” I grunted.

“Yes, by you only however, Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ, Bachhalyā Piyā …. keep fucking me!” was her almost breathless answer.

Our bodies, now dripping in sweat, made a slapping sound when my hips collided with hers.

The aroma of her steaming young Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot  reached my nose.

“OHHHH, that’s it! Fuck my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot  hard!” She could barely get the words out.

Then another series of moans and screams of passion accompanied that wonderful slapping and slurping sound our bodies made.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and balls were soaked in her ever fragrant Bhārgav Brāhmañ juices.

I continued to ram her velvet lined Bhārgav Brāhmañ twat for some time.

Now, I was in control, and she had lost her composure. She was overwhelmed with pleasure, and could not form the words to speak, only breathless moans and coos.

Wanting a change of pace, I withdrew from her and nudged her to flip over.

“I want you on your knees, Ramā Bhārgav darling! Be my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Brahm Mare.” I commanded.

Ramā Bhārgav obeyed, flipping over without a word.

“I’m going to take you from behind,” I told her in my sexiest Bachhalyā tone.

The view, from behind her, was amazing.

I entered her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot and started to plow Ramā Bhārgav again as hard as I could.

After a short time we worked out a nice rhythm, where she would push her Bhārgav Brāhmañ twat back to absorb the full impact of my Bachhalyā thrust.

“My Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot hasn’t been fucked this hard by you, since college!” Ramā Bhārgav appeared to be thinking out loud.

The pronunciation of Bījāxar by Ramā Bhārgav told me she was still doing affirmations and transmissions.

No Brahm Padminī wasted her time usually.

Ramā Bhārgav too wasn’t any exception.

For someone who implied that her sex life with me was very active, Ramā Bhārgav‘s Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot was still tight.

She was facing the headboard during our doggie style romp.

After a while, without explanation, she slid forward and my tool fell out of her honey pot.

“What’s wrong?” I inquired.

“Nothing … just a second,” the words barely escaped her mouth.

She was leaning forward and reaching for something.

By the headboard, there was a nightstand with a lamp.

I thought for a second her aim was to shut or dim the lights.

Instead, she was reaching for the little knob on the drawer of the nightstand.

What she retrieved out of the drawer almost made my heart stop.

A full size tube of K-Y jelly was now in her hand, and she was handing it back to me as the moment of surprise and joy struck me like a ton of bricks.

Was this what I thought it was?

I thought I had better check first but didn’t want to scare away the moment.

Thinking quickly, I managed to play dumb:

“Your Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot is so wet. We don’t need this.”

“No!” she said, again with authority in her sultry voice. Then she uttered the words I thought I’d never hear Ramā Bhārgav say to me: “I want you to fuck me up the ass!”
I gazed upon her welcoming, sweat-soaked Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks shining like two hot buttered globes. Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, peered back at me over her shoulder, still on hands and knees while I was visually taking in the beauty of her round firm Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass and its lovely crevice, following the crevice down to the wrinkled pucker of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ asshole and her battered Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot lips, glistening and dripping with her sweet Bhārgav Brāhmañ honey.

I squeezed some K-Y on to the head of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund  and slowly spread it down its length.

Ramā Bhārgav said,

“That’s fine. You need to lube up your Bachhalyā Lund, first.”

Ramā Bhārgav told me that a light massage on her lower back and bottom would help her to limber up and get loose.

I obliged.

Rubbing her waist and lower back was a sensual experience for me, too.

Especially when I worked my way to her beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass, kneading her beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks, spreading her cheeks and massaging them open and closed.

It was like playing a pornographic game of peekaboo with both of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ  fuckholes.

This allowed me a chance keeping the mood sexy and erotic.

I then got the K-Y jelly ready.

Spreading her ever beautiful young twenty nine years old Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass I rubbed her sphincter, teasing it with my finger tip looking  at beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ her asshole.

The mystery and darkness of it , the naughty taboo of it, made me hot and want to get down to business.

I squeezed out a liberal glob of it and placed it on her Bhārgav Brāhmañ bung hole, plastering her rectal pucker, caressing and spreading it in circular strokes, slowly putting more and more pressure on her asshole until the tip of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund was in it just past the first knuckle.

“MMMMMMMMM… now we’re getting somewhere,” Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, acknowledged in a breathy voice.

With slow, steady pressure, I worked my lubed ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund in her utmost beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass as far as it would go.

“OHH, Ohh that’s it right there.” Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, instructed. “Keep your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund there …… feel my Bhārgav Brāhmañ anal muscles relax and open slowly,” Ramā Bhārgav added, now fully enjoying the insertion. “Now your push your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund more, let the half of it go inside,” she moaned.

I watched Ramā Bhārgav gravely.

“What’s that you want to destroy in this Infinite BrāhmKalp, Ramā Bhārgav, my Brahm Padminī young Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife?”

“Don’t worry,” Ramā Bhārgav laughed, “I can’t destroy your ever utmost beloved beautiful Musalmān houseladies, you know. They are still infinite times of us Brāhmañ women of yours. Aren’t they?”

I noticed that she never enjoyed anally the withdrawing of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund more than the forward thrusts.

This continued until we were up to the three fourth of my Bachhalyā Lund.

Satisfied that Ramā Bhārgav‘s nether region was lubed and loosened adequately, I readied myself with more lube and was ready to mount Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, stealing another peek at her Bhārgav Brāhmañ sphincter, now visibly more open than before.

Ramā Bhārgav herself ready on her hands and knees and wiggled her Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks as if daring me to take her from behind.

I had a little trouble getting in her backdoor properly, despite my utmost experience.

Ramā Bhārgav  reached back, got hold of my erect ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and guided me up in to her ever beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass, a procedure that always made me horny when I saw it happen.

Then, with the swollen head of my Bachhalyā Lund breaching her utmost beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass, Ramā Bhārgav pushed back slowly as I pushed forward.

I penetrated Ramā Bhārgav deeper and deeper until I was balls deep, and the pink Bhārgav Brāhmañ ring of her sphincter expanded fully accommodating my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

Her forbidden Bhārgav Brāhmañ passage was open and receiving my Bachhalyā tool sophisticated.

It was so tight and hot.

It felt nice.

Ramā Bhārgav looked over her shoulder and said,

“You’ll have to take it a little easier than when you were in my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot, okay?” adding, “at first.” and, “when I tell you I’m ready you can go ahead and fuck as hard as you can.”

“Is that good?” I asked. “Does my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund feel good up your young twenty nine years old Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass?” I smiled proudly.

“Oooooo Yeahhhhhhh,” Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, answered in more of a moan of ecstasy than the  actual word.

“Now tell me what you actually want to destroy here in this Infinite BrāhmKalp?” I asked mounting Ramā Bhārgav, the Brahm Padminī, gravely.

Chapter 24

—————————————————————————-

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


Bahoo Bégum: 7

Bahoo Bégum

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 7

Durgesh Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid looked in the mirror and sighed.

Although only forty-one and still in amazing shape, she couldn’t see even the first wrinkles of aging.

Nevertheless, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was so finicky for her female Musalmān beauty that watching an infomercial on television about an anti-aging crème, she ordered it, desperate to keep the vibrant youthful look that had always kept her employable.

A professional model since her teen years, she had been told her whole life how beautiful she was, but age was not her friend and she hadn’t liked to feel not beautiful of late.

Since hitting forty, the kryptonite age for models, the gigs had slowed down considerably and although she had always been financially secure for herself, she was determined to get a good trust fund for future and thus needed to keep working.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid and I were travelling throughout Europe.

We were very close.

Nonsense!

Nothing sexual even then.

It was entirely a platonic relationship.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was my stepdaughter in law, and stepdaughter in law only, nothing else.

We had always had each other only.

Her deadbeat husband, and my absentee stepson, walked out before their daughter was born.

He charged her she was living in relationship with me already.

Utter nonsense!

He was more devoted to Pseudo Islam than he was even attached to his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.

Although Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was beautiful, she had not been in a relationship in years, having been betrayed over and over by men who wanted to bed with ‘a model’ and wake up with her.

Instead, the only man she cared about was I.

Just when things were beginning to look grim, she got a job at an upscale store that used living mannequins.

They were very insistent on preserving the illusion and mannequins moving or flinching or reacting to customers is a big no-no.

Having modelled and posed for years, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid assumed that the job wouldn’t be overly difficult, having worked with some very demanding and intense photographers.

Yet, over the first week, she really struggled to not react slightly when customers moved close to her, made faces and especially when men made lewd comments toward her.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was still a very beautiful woman, with firm long legs, blonde hair, blue eyes, a tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and big breasts that were still firm and amazing looking even without the right push-up bra, and thus was admired by boys and men.

The manager threatened her to either do it completely right or he would have to replace her.

Having been replaced by younger models for many jobs in the past couple of years, she was determined to keep the job and prove him wrong.

That night, during dinner, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid explained her problem to me.

I suggested,

“You should practice at home.”

“That’s a great idea,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid nodded.

I had spent my whole life around beautiful models.

I still saw Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid as the most beautiful woman in the world.

I explained,

“I never liked your modeling, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid. You know it. Nevertheless, you keep doing it. Well, understand something cold and hard if you are still adamant to keep modeling.  The key is to get used to being touched or ogled.”

“I know,” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid agreed, “I usually don’t care what anyone says to me, or if some creepy guy is checking me out, but I feel so helpless when I’m not allowed to move. I feel completely vulnerable.”

“Let’s finish eating and then I’ll help you practice,” I offered.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid liked the idea of me touching Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

“Sure, what have I got to lose?” Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid agreed.

“Your job,” I quipped, loving to tease Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

Durgesh,” she laughed.

I was always able to cheer her up.

Once dinner was done, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid posed in a similar position as she did at work, dressed in a 1950’s poodle skirt, as part of that week’s ‘decades’ theme.

I moved her arms and legs a bit, poked her on the side and made funny faces at her. She struggled a bit, especially when she was poked in the side, but overall did better.

That night, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid masturbated while thinking of fucking me like she usually did, but this time the scenario changed as she imagined me moving her into positions in which Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid wanted me to fuck her.

The next day Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid did better at work and thus began a daily routine of mannequin practice.*

Every night we spent about fifteen minutes practicing, each day I spending a little longer touching Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, even tickling her, during which Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid really struggled with maintaining her composure.

Each evening, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid masturbated herself with taboo fantasies of incest imagining making love to me.

The following week Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid came home Sunday with her outfit for Monday.

She walked in front of the television and froze wearing a tennis outfit with a very short skirt while holding a tennis racket.

My everlastingly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate gifted, matchless, extreme noticeable Uncut Hindu Lund  instantly hardened at the sight of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid in such a sexy outfit.

I stood up and pulled the racket out of her hands.

The television show was no longer interesting.

Although a struggle, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid stayed in position.

I treated her like a live Barbie doll moving her head, arms, and legs, being more aggressive than I had been in the past.

Then, getting slightly more adventurous, I ran my hands down her perfectly toned legs.

Although I loved everything about her: her blonde hair, exotic green eyes, dazzling smile, great Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, perky breasts and overall great personality, it was her legs with her prominent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks, whether bare and tanned or in any style of hosiery, thigh highs, pantyhose, fishnets, garter and stocking, that really turned me on.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid felt a chill go up her spine and a tingle down below at the intimate touch of mine, but credited it to the incredible lack of intimate contact in recent years.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid didn’t want this to end, but also didn’t want to seem like a pervert, and thus ended the sly touching of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

We continued practicing every night and Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid began to both look forward to her playtime with me and to get sexually excited by my Hindu masculine touch.

At first she found the practice time a fun activity to do with me, something out of the ordinary and different.

Yet as time progressed, it began to be strangely erotic in a taboo but innocent way.

She enjoyed my strong, firm Hindu masculine hands on her beautiful mature young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, a sudden reminder of the intimacy she had long forgotten existed.

She began to make it a game by every night posing when I came home from Presidential Office of HVSI, always in a different outfit, the one she was to wear the next day at work.

One day she dressed in camping gear, another day in tight running shorts, another time in a beautiful cocktail dress, another day as a maid.

Each day I tested Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid, each day I got rock hard and each day my touches became just slightly more intimate, always trying to push the boundary just slightly, wondering how far Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid would really let me go.

Never touching her ever erect proud Musalmān breasts or her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, but each day moving closer and closer to the forbidden area.

As much as I was tempted, I was the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu after all.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was getting more and more confused.

Why did she like my Hindu masculine touch so much?

Why did she look forward to these imitate Moments?

Why was she craving for my touch?

Why was she having dreams that ended up with her having sex with me? She continued to blame it on her lengthy dry spell, but every day the temptation seemed to grow inside her more and more.

‘Is incest really such a bad thing?’ she pondered to herself after the most recent touching where my fingers were teasingly close to her damp Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

Every night without fail, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid masturbated imagining me making love to her, the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu among Musalmīn.

Even though Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid still didn’t think there was a chance of anything more than the playful touching sessions… Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid was beginning to wonder if the possibility did exist.

Meanwhile, as the days went on, Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid could no longer deny it.

The past few days my masculine Hindu touch had been undeniably turning her on, making her wet and desperate for more.

My strong Hindu  hands gently caressing her shoulders, slithering ever so slowly down her legs and gliding teasingly close to her long neglected private parts was driving her mad with insatiable desire, creating a fire that she couldn’t extinguish no matter how hard she tried with moral logic and Islamic responsibility.

The last two days she had pleasured herself in her room with her small vibrator wishing it was bigger and more powerful, and each time as she reached climax my ever excellent utmost handsome masculine Hindu face inexplicably popped into her head.

She had considered stopping the unique Muslimāt Hindu bonding experience knowing it was causing these taboo dreams, fantasies and feelings, but it really had helped with her job and she didn’t merely enjoy the time with me, it was her daily highlight.

So instead of quitting, like an ardent Musalmān houselady should do, she began to pose in sexier outfits, in hotter positions and scenarios, deciding to create fantasies for both of us…not sure she was willing to cross the line, but enjoying the attention she was getting from a man, albeit the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.

On Saturday, she suggested we go for a swim in the backyard pool.

I never thought it was anything out of the ordinary as we often spent the weekend lounging in and around the pool.

Even though it was late January, in San Diego every day was a great day for a swim.

When I came out of the house, I saw Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid standing there, lotion in her hand, in a beautiful two piece bikini that didn’t remotely hide her excellent Musalmān breasts and really showcased her legs.

I instantly had a tent in my trunks, one I couldn’t hide.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid saw the impact of her pose and outfit on me and broke into a wicked cunning immensely proud smile, before quickly returning to her stoic position in anticipation of my Hindu masculine hands on her.

I walked over to her and for the first time since doing this, talked during the playtime.

“I think you need to be protected from the sun.” I laughed at the accidental pun, witticism, joke.

I took the lotion out of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s hands, just as Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid had hoped I would.

I poured the lotion liberally into my hands and slowly coated Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s body from head to toe.

I started with the back of her neck, shoulders and arms.

My touch was purposefully sly and gentle, wanting to enjoy every second of it, yet also hoping somehow, someway through my touch Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid would see me not as the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, but as a man.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid loved how soft and tender my touch was.

Part of her wanted to just give in to her growing desires and kiss me on my lips, yet knowing that Ashvinātam sex was wrong in Musalmīn, and she was an ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān woman, she resisted even as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot  burned for my Hindu masculine attention.

I moved my hands in the beautiful crevice between Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s breasts, my fingers dangerously close to the breasts.

The temptation to go further was almost unbearable, but my respect for her Swayamvar right, overrode my own temptation, instead testing the boundaries by moving teasingly close to her taboo parts.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid couldn’t think straight.

She wanted me to cup her breasts, kiss on her erect Musalmān tits, give her the long resisted pleasure she barely remembered.

I could see Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s erect nipples through the thin bikini fabric and felt confident my touch was turning her on as much as it was me.

Yet, not wanting to linger too long in one spot, I continued moving lower, spreading on her toned belly, hips and back.

Disappointment rushed through Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid as I moved away from her breasts, even though she did love the feel of my hands all over her, especially her burning Musalmān buttocks.

I knelt in front of her.

Now, my face was directly in front of Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

I wondered if she was shaved…was she wet…was I really having the impact on her that I thought I was?

Again as Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid looked at me below her, she was tempted to grab my head and pull me into her wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

She knew I stared at her often, assumed it was likely a fantasy of hers, having read online about many theories that all Hindus want to fuck the beautiful Musalmān houseladies.

But would I actually be willing to be more than a stepfather in law?

Would a gentleman like me fuck her hard like she wanted it?

In reality, it was even more than obvious to her, I was the only person she loved; the only one she could truly trust…why not do the only thing left that would show me she loved me unconditionally.

I was her everything and the idea that I could be more than just a stepfather in law…I could also be a lover was both appealing and, yet, terrifying.

I felt my mouth water, the idea of tugging the skimpy bikini down and tasting her spinning in my head.

I had to keep reminding myself she was my Bahū Bégum, even though, of course, I knew she was ravenous for me.

However, that was what made the temptation even greater.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid always having been my greatest stroke responsibility for my stepson left her charging she was living in relationship with me already.

Every girl I dated nowadays, I compared to Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

And none, no matter how pretty, how sexy, could remotely live up to the Musalmān woman that already loved me… Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid.

After applying lotion to her thighs, my fingers so close to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, I slowly, like a snail, moved down her legs, generously adding lotion to every inch of her toned Musalmān legs all the way to her perfectly manicured feet.

Done, I stood up and began moving her in a few different positions.

I wanted to just bend her over, wanted to see her firm Musalmān ass in that position, but I resisted the temptation, reluctantly keeping it appropriate even as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund      begged for major inappropriateness.

Al Tahajjud Al Kħālid’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was on fire.

Chapter 8

———————————————————————————–


Parkāyā Pravésh: 1

Parkāyā Pravésh

Durgesh

Chapter 1

Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan

Durgesh Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb 

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan must have heard me.

“It’s Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb on line there,” she said.

I perked up immediately.

“Okay. Thanks.” I stabbed the button for line three. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Is it a good time?” Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb said. “I tried calling your cell phone, but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I was on another call. An important one.” I frowned at the memory, but then took a deep breath and forced a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I need help, Durgesh,” she said frankly, and I sat forward.

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I bellowed, ignoring the intercom.

“You don’t have to shout,” she smiled when she appeared in the door. “I’m right here.”

“Book me on the next flight to Blacksburg, Virginia,” I said. “And have a rental car waiting at the airport. Also, call U-Haul, or Ryder, or whoever, and rent a truck for a one-way trip.”

“Are you on a white knight errand?” she asked, smiling wryly.

“My little girl needs help.”

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan leaned against the doorframe. “What happened?”

“Her car died and she doesn’t have a way to get home from Office. The dealership told her it would be two weeks before they’d have the parts. Damned Eurotrash imports!”

She rolled her eyes.

It was one of his frequent rants.

“Anyway,” I continued, “it’s a good time for me to go—”

“To escape, you mean,” she smiled teasing me.

“—and I’m…” I turned impish myself. “Am I that obvious?”

She smiled fondly and shook her head.

“Yeah, I guess I’m taking an impromptu vacation. But I won’t really be out of contact. I’ll have my laptop and my cell phone. Pramod can handle Raytheon, and you can handle everything here.”

She nodded.

“So I’m going to rescue my little girl.”

“She isn’t your little girl.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “She is already twenty eight and her Ammī, Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, is forty eight already. Give Rashīdah auntie some time for herself now, please. She left her husband for you when Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was actually a little girl. You’re enjoying Rashīdah auntie’s dazzling Musalmān beauty for more than twenty years now. Still you bulldoze her so much that she was complaining.”

“Nonsense,” I smiled winking at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, “Al Rashīdah Al Faisal is still ravenous when I bulldoze her on the bed. Sālī, you want me to bulldoze only Jet Musalmān Beauties. Below forty only.”

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.

“What’s wrong in that? We need your permanently stanch, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund more into our more ravenous, more needy Musalmān Cunts than those above forty. They have enjoyed their share already too much.”

I smiled cunningly.

“That’s what my Brāhmañ and Savarñ women themselves claim that my Musalmān women have enjoyed their share already too much. Now, it’s their time.”

“Brāhm Kalp?”

“Isn’t it?”

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly herself.

She didn’t respond to it, deliberately.

“I’ll make all the arrangements,” she added. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”

I considered for a moment, but then shook my head.

I didn’t want to inconvenience her.

Besides, I needed her running things in the office.

“I’ll take a limo,” I said.

She nodded.

“I’ll have the driver meet you at the house.”

With a nod and a smile, I turned back to my computer.

I had a dozen e-mails to send before I left.

I’d also have to tell Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, but she wouldn’t care.

She and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal had a pageant in San Diego.

I vaguely recalled that it was part of the Miss California USA competition, but I didn’t give it a second thought.

Virginia was hot.

Hot and sticky.

I had already worked up a sweat just walking to my rental car.

Five minutes later, with the air conditioner on full blast, I was headed toward Blacksburg and the Virginia Tech campus.

I called Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb once I was sure of my bearings.

She gave me directions to her dorm, but I remembered the place from when I’d brought her to her Office.

She met me in the lobby and my eyes lit up when I saw her.

Unlike Al Rashīdah Al Faisal and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal—who were salon blondes—Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was dark-haired.

And while Al Rashīdah Al Faisal and Al Kulsoom Al Faisal were busty—courtesy of very expensive boob jobs—Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb was petite and natural.

She was nothing like her mother or sister, and I liked that just fine.

She hugged me tight.

“Thanks for coming. I could’ve driven home by myself, but…”

“Nonsense,” I said. “That’s what I’m for. They say I can’t see any Musalmān damsel in distress ever.”

She laughed, looped her arm through mine and leaned her head on my shoulder.

“Thanks, Hindu Albuåūlatul Muslimāt. They are right. You’re really the best.”

We picked up the rental truck and returned to the dorm, where they loaded Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb’s things.

I couldn’t imagine how she’d fit so much stuff in her tiny dorm room.

It filled nearly half of the small truck.

After she checked out of the dorm, we had dinner and spent the night in a hotel.

Her car was still with the dealer, but I arranged for us to send it cross-country when the repairs were complete.

The service manager had balked at my “request,” but the dealership’s general manager understood the unspoken threat in my voice.

The next morning, Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb and I were on the road by seven o’clock, with sausage biscuits and hot coffee.

I cringed at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s imagined reproach, but I savored the buttery biscuit and willed her to silence.

“What’re you smirking at?” Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb asked.

I controlled heating my cheeks.

“Smirking?”

“Yeah. Just now. You were smirking.”

“I shouldn’t be eating this,” I admitted.

“Because of your cholesterol?”

I nodded.

In the blink of an eye, she snatched the biscuit and began rolling down her window.

“Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, no!”

She tossed it out, wrapper and all.

“Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, that was my breakfast!”

“We’ll stop for an early lunch,” she said, unperturbed.

I glared at her.

“You know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s going to ask me how you ate,” she said. “And I won’t lie to her.”

“You could’ve lied this once,” I muttered, half serious, half joking.

“No, I couldn’t’ve. If you won’t take care of yourself, the women in your life will just have to do it for you.”

I wondered whether Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb had really gone through Parkāyā Pravésh.

Or was it her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Ħabīb himself who had gone through Parkāyā Pravésh?*

Kħadījah Muħammad, my outqueen, my confidential secretary, my everything, smiled at me.

“Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā, an executive type is anxiously and impatiently waiting in the outer office.”

“BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā ?” I asked.

“BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled, “He seems accustomed to getting what he wants.”

Kħadījah Muħammad was only two years younger than me.

Yet she never looked more than thirty four.

“He wants to consult me?”

“Yes.”

“The Bachhalyās are already Vishishŧ Brahm, Kħadījah Muħammad,” I said thoughtfully, “They are almost as capable as myself.”

“Nonsense,” Kħadījah Muħammad retorted, “Nobody is as capable as you are. You have almost infinite Shaktimān, almost infinite experiences, almost omnipotent you are. The Bachhalyās are your sons from Brahm Jagdambās and their descendants only. There’s almost infinite difference in your Shaktimān and capabilities, etcetera.”

I smiled.

“Did he tell you something about what he wants me to consult about?”

“No,” Kħadījah Muħammad kept smiling, “Sorry. That’s a mystery.”

“What’s the mystery?”

“All he has told me is that he is willing to pay any fee reasonable to have you a buffet dinner tonight.”

I smiled.

Kħadījah , you should have told Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā that I’m never a paid entertainer. We are busy people. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now. We have a busy schedule today already. I see clients only by appointment.”

“I told him all that. He has come here from Brahm Ayodhyā Creations and he says you have infinite bodies.”

Kħadījah Muħammad, I…”

“As if he himself doesn’t have,”

“Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā has only countless bodies.”

“Oh,”

“You’ve already snatched away his wife, Arundhatī Joshī from him when he was Vinod Sharmā.”

“What?” I was startled.

“He hopes you owe him to help in keeping his present wife, Anjali Chaturvedī to him now.”

I was dumbfounded.*

Kħadījah Muħammad looked at me dubiously.

“I don’t think that BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā wants you as a social lion. He said he would like to have you get a feminine partner of your own choosing, and that he would like to have you observe a certain person and give him your impression of that person.”

“He said I’ve snatched away from him his wife Arundhatī Joshī  when he was Vinod Sharmā?” I watched Kħadījah Muħammad thoughtfully.

“That’s right.”

“He is from Brahm Ayodhyā Creations?”

“That’s what he said.”

“There are countless Brahm Ayodhyā Creations.”

“Sure, Bhārgav Brahm Ayodhyā Creations is leading all of them today.”

I smiled.

Kħadījah Muħammad, you’ve met Arundhatī Joshī  and Vinod Sharmā both.”

“Yes,”

“Is BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā Vinod Sharmā?”

Vinod Sharmā is dead. His Ammī didn’t allow his body to be disposed of electrically. He wasn’t cremated.”

BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā has the same body?”

“Certainly not. He has an entirely different ever young body. The Bachhalyās are Vishishŧ Brahm, Durgesh. They are themselves eternals as we ourselves are. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now everywhere.”

“Yet Kaliyug has its projection still now for 4, 27, 000 years. Don’t forget it. It’s essential.”

“How the hell can I? It’s disturbing us most frequently everywhere.”

“Not most frequently, frequently only. Show Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā in, Kħadījah .”

Kħadījah Muħammad flashed me a seductive grateful smile, returned to the outer office and a moment later was back with a man somewhere in his late twenties.

He had steady black eyes that flashed out from under his smart eyebrows.

It was an integral characteristic of the Bachhalyās that they were always young, handsome and powerful.

I was their father and the Brahm Jagdambās were their mothers.

I always dreamed of to see the Dvij Hindus as young, as handsome and as powerful as the Bachhalyās were, if not better.

But the Dvij Hindus lacked the ever excellent upbringing the Bachhalyās had from their Brahm Jagdambās mothers, Brahmarshi maternal grandfathers and Brahmarshi maternal uncles.

Dvij Hindus also lacked the optimum paternal care from their Param Purush father, Vishishŧ Brahm paternal Grandfather and Vishishŧ Brahm paternal uncles.

Bachhalyās were always number one administrators consequently undisputedly.

In this Infinite BrāhmKalp, the Bachhalyās were actually ever unconquerable.

Dvij Hindus were the second one.

The traditional Brāhmañs were the third.

The Muslims were the fourth.

Infinite BrāhmKalp lacked the other societies basically.

“Your Excellency, I’m BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā from Brahm Ayodhyā Creations. I’m a businessman.”*

I smiled slightly.

“I thought so.”

“What?”

“A student of character would so classify you.”

“I see. You mean you are a student of character?”

“Any trial lawyer, any politician, likes to think that he is. If he’s at all successful he has to be. Won’t you be seated?”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,”

BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā sat down across the table from me, regarded me thoughtfully, then leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.

BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā’s heavy shoulders and neck gave him an air of belligerence.

“Sir,” he said politely, “that is one of the reasons I came to you despite my past experiences of you, are that you would again throw me to the wolves if there comes any beautiful lady that deserves protection more than I do.”

“I see. What’s the reason?”

“That you are a judge of character.” BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā said politely, “I need you to do some judging for me, Your Excellency.”

“You said you were Vinod Sharmā once.”

“That’s right. I suffered from a severe heart attack and couldn’t keep my life then.”

I eyed him sympathetically.

“A man should be strong enough to take anything adverse so that it doesn’t cause any heart attack to him. He is the Sun of his family, Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā.”

“My family rejected me to keep me as her Sun. She needed a better Sun, you.”

“Are you complaining to me for it, Mr. BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā?”

“I would certainly have if I were Vinod Sharmā still now.”

“I see.”

“I was a damnfool then, Your Excellency,”

“Call me ‘Durgesh’. I prefer to be called thus more. If you don’t have any adverse prejudice against it, I mean.” I smiled.

“Thank you.” BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā too smiled, “‘Durgesh’, then. I learned my lesson in the hard way. I thought a wife must be loyal to her husband,”

“Even if the husband doesn’t care to fulfill his duties towards her?”

“Well, a family needs sacrifice if we want to keep it.”

“Sacrifice from a wife always?”

“Not always.”

“Oh,”

Arundhatī Joshī, my wife then, should have divorced me if she wasn’t happy with me.”

“And since Arundhatī Joshī  didn’t divorce you, she ‘cheated’ you instead, you let a heart attack dominate you. What a manly step! Arundhatī Joshī  was the only woman for you in the entire Multiverse? Why couldn’t you yourself divorce Arundhatī Joshī , if you felt she cheated you? Vinod Sharmā, a woman appreciates a strong man, not a man as weak as you were when you were Vinod Sharmā.”

BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā looked at me appreciatively.

“I accepted that I learned my lesson in the hard way, Sir. I thought you were my friend and…”

“Didn’t I advise you, Vinod Sharmā, to be more careful to your wife, Arundhatī Joshī, than you were then?”

“Well, you said I should let her suck my penis, to have anal sex with her.”

“And you couldn’t do it?”

“My traditional Brāhmañ sacraments then, never let me understand your Bachhalyā ethics.”

“These aren’t Bachhalyā ethics, BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā, these are Vedic Ethics instead. And these are never impractical.”

“I understand, now.”

“It’s your reincarnation, Punarjanm?”

Parkāyā Pravésh.”

“How? You are a Bachhalyā now. The Bachhalyās are Vishishŧ Brahm, eternals. They never die. Then how could you get a Bachhalyā male body for your Parkāyā Pravésh?”*

BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā smiled.

“Sure. Who else can know more about the Bachhalyās than the original Bachhalyā that caused Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī to establish an endless Bachhalyā Empire destroying the traditional Brāhmañ Empire then forever?”

I eyed BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā scornfully.

“I hate every tradition if it isn’t scientific anymore, progressive and ‘Janébhyah’.”

“I understand.” BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā said, “I need some good detective work and don’t want it to be known to my family members.”

“Oh,”

“There are some problems when you belong to a Bachhalyā family.”

“Every family has its own individual personal problems whether Bachhalyā or otherwise. There isn’t any family, Bachhalyā, Brāhmañ, Musalmān or whatsoever that doesn’t have its own problems.”

“That’s right. But I’m telling something else.”

“I see.”

“A Bachhalyā family is somewhat far more different from the Brāhmañ families, Musalmān families, Dvij Hindu families and the rest of the other families.”

I watched BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā thoughtfully.

“I am listening to your observation.”

“A Bachhalyā family consists of Vishishŧ Brahms. It isn’t easy to plan something, even in their own benefit, concealing it from the utmost knowing Bachhalyās.”

“I understand what you want to say.” I smiled, “You have come here from a traditional Brāhmañ family. It isn’t easy for you to plan something clandestine for the utmost brilliant Vishishŧ Brahms of your family. You want my help? Okay. Tell me what your actual problem is now.”
Chapter 2

——————————————————————————-

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 21

Fa qatulū almusharikīn

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 21

Durgesh Al Jihad Al Vaqār

Durgesh Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās

Al Jihad Al Vaqār glanced about the spacious office once more.

Was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shrewd enough to play all these games?

Was it possible he deliberately gave her his media empire?

His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, had put a restrictive clause in his will about his flagship paper, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.

His younger sister, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s aunt, Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar, was herself interested in purchasing The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had requested his father to have The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah even if he gave his three fourth estate to his elder sister, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī.

His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, allowed him to have it for a trial year.

In that trial year, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had to prove his competence on his aunt, Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar.

He had to exceed the circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times at least once only at some point during that trial year.

Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s flagship paper, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s permanently if he could do the miracle; otherwise, it had to be sold to Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar.

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī gave the paper to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as a settlement.

Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.

Allah, would Durgesh give Al Jihad Al Vaqār what Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb also wanted to have?

Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.

It depended on what particles, what base pairs, Durgesh needed more for the new Infinite BrāhmKalp.

In Delhi, Aap had gotten a landslide victory even on BJP.

INC was finished there altogether.

It couldn’t get even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.

What did it mean?

The Anti- Hindu forces were winning again?

Certainly not.

Was it the beginning of a Counter Revolution?

Against the ever first Psychological Revolution in the entire history of humankind?

It might be.

The Original ever first Psychological Revolution started with the demand of Midterm 2012.

It took two years to build up the required reality and to bring it up to the reality then.

It was a painstaking nonstop continuous Kratu of entire Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and HVSI that made the impossible possible.

And now the Counter Revolution?

Well, it isn’t so easy.

If they think they can do it so easily, they were living in fools’ paradise.

Let them.

We need only Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān vaginal rheostats and a Stavak Bar Magnet to meet it.

The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.

They are also there.

The Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always ready for every worst possibility even.

What the hell else for Modern Democratic Årabia is established by the Seven Movements, the Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, and by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself?

Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.

She was ready to get going.

Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s will had made Al Jihad Al Vaqār extremely sensitive to the passage of time.

She had only one trial year.

Nevertheless, both the Kħātoon-eJannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, and Durgesh were with her.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār reached for her ivory colored computer telephone, pressed the ICM button and then the intercom code for Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān’s private telephone.*

Al Jihad Al Vaqār said to Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān.

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, I’m ready for the meeting. Bring Ghausiyah Imtiyāz with you.”

“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”

A few minutes later Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz appeared.

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was carrying a handful of folders.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār motioned her friends and lieutenants to the rattan chairs across from her desk.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt comfortable with them.

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz were the only persons Al Jihad Al Vaqār was comfortable with beside her secretary she depended upon.

Certainly, Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s reliance on Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was without equivocation.

Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.

Moreover, both Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz were perfect when it came to reading Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s mind, even to finishing her sentences.

They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.

Both Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz hated Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.

These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded

“First things first,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said to Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, “Did you check the daily circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times?”*

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.

There was a running information,

8, 75,273.

“HVSI Times manages its subscription always on the top.”

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān smiled at her, “I thought we should too adopt the procedure.”

“HVSI Times represents the revolutionaries that successfully ended the Scam era.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “We haven’t enough capital to compete with HVSI, No one has.”

“Sure, but it’s today. When HVSI started HVSI Times they didn’t have this capital.”

Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.

HVSI Times was the dream newspaper.

It has survived the biggest threat of news TV channels.

It somehow always maintained to give something new to its readers the news TV channels couldn’t provide.

As soon as Al Jihad Al Vaqār got the media empire in settlement, she visited HVSI Times herself personally.

It was a multi-story building.

None knew how many stories it had.

They said it was an endless building.

No one believed it.

How a building could be endless.

It was certainly a publicity strategy.

It was the tallest building nevertheless.

The heart of the structure, the one that pumped activity into all the other stories was its Seventh floor.

Most of it was given over to the HVSI Times newsroom.

Its one portion was reserved for the publisher’s suite.

It consisted of the publisher’s main office, the office for my personal secretary and receptionist, a conference and electronic media room, two offices for the advertising director and her assistant, and glassed in cubicles for the managing editor and the assistant managing editor.

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never changed anything.

He surrendered it to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as he did find it.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār, the temporary heir to the suite and to the building had made few personnel changes.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār retired Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s elderly female secretary on a generous pension and replaced her with her own secretary, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, a smart, brisk, thirtyish young woman with short-cropped dark hair and horn rimmed glasses.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ had served Al Jihad Al Vaqār with devotion for seven years already in Special Projects.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ was smart enough to understand the ambitious Al Jihad Al Vaqār.

Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ wasn’t as ambitious as Al Jihad Al Vaqār was.

Moreover, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ never had been as resourceful as Al Jihad Al Vaqār had been.

Again, the difference in the intensity of their ambitions was the decisive factor.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ lacked it.

She stopped somewhat before getting resources she was after, while Al Jihad Al Vaqār didn’t deliberately.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār had more patience in the matter.

It paid.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz,

“Let’s start with the two of you. I’ve been giving it some thought. You will both be answerable only to me. Outside of general orders, everything I tell you will be kept in strictest confidence. Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, this is a bigger job, much bigger than Special Projects. Your work will be greatly expanded, naturally, accordingly.”*

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās straddled me with her beautiful face towards me.

She was enjoying my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her comparatively immensely young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once again.

I knew it would never be a once only phenomenon.

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās could never get rid of the ever-incurable Durgesh Obsession.

Once with Durgesh

All the rest is trash

Wasn’t it?

The more aged I grew the crazier they were for me.

“I don’t want to burn my bridges, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said fucking my ever stout ever pleasure giving ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund wildly, “And why should I? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has played with my beautiful body, even if in his own peculiar way. I couldn’t help that. My entire body was at his discretion. If instead of fucking me, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed tongue fucking me more it wasn’t my fault. I am not responsible for it. He has to pay for my time I spent with him. It was precious.”

“Sure,” I agreed with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezing her excellent exquisite boobs and buttocks both.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was harder and harder now into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with her each aggressive thrust.

She was kissing me wildly.

Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund around its shaft.

“I’m really entitled to this alimony if you should warn Al Nādir Al Ghāzī that HVS Law Internationals were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again. It would keep Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from making a move.”

I laughed cunningly.

“Done, however if all the alimony is going to cease in a few months, why not…”

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly.

“I’m not going to let Al Nādir Al Ghāzī off. I’d go to him and offer to settle the whole business for one hundred thousand cash. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī would jump at that.”

I smiled coldly.

“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās started herself to balance on the tip of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.

“Well?” I asked.

“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”

“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”

“Thank you.”*

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.

“Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. Do you think I’m a gold digger?”

I smiled, grabbed her young nude waist and pulled her on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me gratefully as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely.

“Thank you,” she thanked me once again for letting her fuck me.

“Are you deceiving Priyavrat Chaturvedī for marrying him?”

“Certainly not,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said earnestly, “Priyavrat Chaturvedī knows each and everything of my previous marriages and my recent relationship with you too. I never play dirty with the persons who never play dirty with me.”

“Yet Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to marry you?”

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled triumphantly.

“What do you think? Am I not that much beautiful?”

I sighed.

“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for you.”

“And you?”

“What do you mean?” I smiled cunningly.

“You won’t do anything for me, even if I keep fucking you?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my naughty eyes.

I winked at her.

“If you keep fucking me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, I can do anything for you, myself, if it isn’t immoral and illegal.”

“Even if I’d be married to Priyavrat Chaturvedī?”

“That’s Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s problem, not mine.” I said gravely.*

Priyavrat Chaturvedī reached his chair.

There was a note on his table.

His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, had called him.

Everything has changed fast.

Narendr Modi was delivering fast what he had promised to the one hundred twenty five crore Indians.

His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, was worried as the other Congresspersons were.

INC couldn’t win even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.

It would again be the same thing, Priyavrat Chaturvedī thought.

Neither his father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, is trying to understand,  nor Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s mother, Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad, that it wasn’t a political change only.

It was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.

It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī stepped out and walked the length of the common room.

“Boss wants you, Priyavrat.” Muħammad Shakīl looked up from a merc pool file as Priyavrat Chaturvedī passed him.

“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”

“Why don’t you marry Ambikā Tripāŧhī, Priyavrat?” Muħammad Shakīl asked, “She is my Kħālāzād cousin. I know she would be a very good wife for you.”

Priyavrat Chaturvedī sighed,

“You don’t understand Infinite BrāhmKalp, Muħammad Shakīl.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your Kħālāzād cousin, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, is no more interested in me.”

Muħammad Shakīl was startled.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī didn’t stop there enough to explain Muħammad Shakīl the present situation.

He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*

Muħammad Shakīl liked Priyavrat Chaturvedī more than he liked his father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī.

He never knew why.

Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī was an ardent fan of Narendr Modi and RSS.

INC has fooled us Musalmīn,” Muħammad Shakīl’s Kħālā, Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad, used to say, “Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was never honest to me politically.”

“That isn’t anything new, Ammī.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said, “Almost every politician lies. Pitājī isn’t any exception.”

Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.

“Your father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, isn’t only a politician to me, Priyavrat. He is my husband as well.”

“You are a highly educated woman, yourself, Ammī,” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said, “You knew right from the beginning that Nānājān wanted Pitājī, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, converted to Islam.”

“You fool; do you want to make me responsible for what my Abbū did?”

“Certainly not, Ammī, certainly not.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī agreed, “Nevertheless, you can’t blame Pitājī too. He loved you very much. Nānājān was trying his best to convert Pitājī to Islam. Pitājī couldn’t infuriate Hindus by converting himself. He would have lost Hindu votes for himself and INC. INC never permitted him.”*

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī looked up.

“You wanted to see me, Pitājī?” Priyavrat Chaturvedī smiled.

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī didn’t wear spectacles.

Despite his increasing age, his eyesight was still very good.

It wasn’t any rare thing now however.

They said it was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.

As other Congresspersons, Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī still doubted it was so.

“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”

Priyavrat Chaturvedī never saw anything wrong in it.

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī looked confident however as usual.

He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,

“Sit down, Priyavrat.”

Priyavrat Chaturvedī sat down stiffly and waited.

“Your Ammī said you rejected Ambikā Tripāŧhī too.”

“As always Ammī has reported you with heavy bias, Pitājī.”

“I doubted that myself. Yet, son, she is right in one thing. You should marry now.”

“With Ambikā Tripāŧhī?”

“What’s wrong in it if it happens?”

“Everything,” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said calmly, “I doubt Ambikā Tripāŧhī is a Brahm Padminī.”

“So what? We live in Ved Nagar. Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act isn’t applicable here. Durgesh is immensely against it.”

Durgesh is immensely against Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act everywhere. Yet the entire Brāhmañ Brahmkanyā Brahmāñī Creations are passing it one by one. Durgesh can’t oppose Democracy. Therefore it doesn’t make any difference whether Durgesh is against it or not.”

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī stood up, turned away and walked to the wall behind his desk.

He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī blinked at the unexpected insurge of grayish light.

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī smiled.

“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”

“I don’t agree with you, Pitājī.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said gravely.

Chapter 22

—————————————————————————

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 21

Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat

Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté

Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,

Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī

1/18: Ādi Parv

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 21

Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Durgesh Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Sābirah Al Wahāb

Durgesh Sītā Bhārgav

That was what Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr is actually good at.
Al Kuwait Creations were almost similar to the Gāndhār of Mahābhārat period, if there was such a period.
He still didn’t know whether there were any Mahābhārat war, or not.
The Westerners never accepted there was.
They always claimed it was only a mythological tale, nothing else.
Yet, Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr wasn’t so sure now.
If Durgesh’s Time Cycle Theory were incorrect, how the hell was it possible for him to go in the Trétā era ever?
He met his real father Brahm Nārāyañ Mukherjī there.
Brahm Nārāyañ Mukherjī was exactly his identical.
Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr found he has so many real and half Brāhmañ sisters in Trétā.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan once more proved herself correct.
“If you lick your wife, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Sābirah Al Wahāb, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt
I mean, after Durgesh fucks her, you may get rid of your entire shortcomings gradually, eventually, ultimately.”
Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr smiled cunningly.
Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, you want to cuckold me too?”
“Do I need to, Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, smiled sarcastically.
Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr watched the utmost cunning young woman he had ever encountered with, in his entire life.
He could never decide who was using whom.
Sometimes he thought Durgesh was using Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, successfully, without letting her even realize what he was doing with her.
Yet, sometimes Sheikħ Al Ůmer Al Aħmad Al Zabīr himself doubted his own theory.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was getting more from Durgesh than Durgesh was getting from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated.
How then Durgesh was using her?*

Mahārānī Rājmātā Kuntī Chaturvédī was neither Mahārānī nor Rājmātā then.
She was Rājkumārī Kuntī Chaturvédī only.
What a tragedy!
She had to leave her son, Karñ Kauntéý Chaturvédī, only because he was an offspring from her premarital affair.
She had numerous Musalmān lady friends that had their premarital affairs with Durgesh mostly, or at least with other capable Hindus.
They were even bold enough to revolt against their society.
Ayesha Ahmad, Dr. Ali Sina’s co-author, was a born Musalmān lady.
Yet, she bravely wrote against Islam.
Here, the traditional Paurāñik Brāhmañ of Chaturvédī Creations were obstinate not to let any Brāhmañ young lady have any premarital affair.
She was expected to be a virgin obstinately until she wasn’t married.
Rājkumārī Kuntī Chaturvédī loved Durgesh, a Bachhalyā.
Despite a large number of restrictions, she enjoyed premarital sex with Durgesh.
She deliberately conceived Durgesh’s child in her womb.
Gave birth to a handsome male child clandestinely with the help of ever revolting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She had been extolled far beyond her deserts and the incident was never mentioned.*

After my Bachhalyā Lund had exited Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ  mouth the next few jets had landed mainly on her chin.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav‘s beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ fingers then released my Bachhalyā Lund.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav brought her my Bachhalyā cum covered fingers to her beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth and began to lick it clean.

My eyes were grave watching her.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav saw my Bachhalyā Lund jump in excitement.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled.

In this Infinite BrāhmKalp now the lost glory of Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs even is returning fast.

Narendr Modi is being credited for it.

However, they knew, the entire Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs, that actually entire HVSI has brought it.

How excellently the time cycle, the Kālchakr, was working!

There were Brahm Apsarās again prominent in Bollywood.

Katrina Kaif was number one, but it needed Saba Qamar too.

Infinite BrāhmKalp is now elevating Saba Qamar and other beautiful Pakistani Musalmān heroines in Bollywood.

Maryam Tanvīr Ålī is also one of them.

When she had her fingers cleaned off Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to collect my cum from her chin and sucked it off them.
“Take off your shirt,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said as I immediately pulled my shirt off and sat naked before her on the couch.

She had seen me in bathing suits around the pool many times.

Naturally, she knew pretty well what my Bachhalyā male body looked like, but now as I sat before her basking in the afterglow of the first orgasm I didn’t give myself.

I looked sexy and appealing in a way she never would have dreamed possible.

Truly I was a fine man.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav reached up again to my Bachhalyā Lund and began to stroke it.

It was hard almost immediately and although she very much wanted to feel me in her Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth again and taste my Bachhalyā cum there was something else that she knew she needed more.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly stood up before me and teasingly asked,

“Are you ready for more of your present?”

“There’s more?” I replied softly in excitement.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly untied her robe and pulled it open before letting it drop to the floor behind her.

I stared at her naked, excited Bhārgav Brāhmañ body and smiled.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel my eyes exploring her and in her heightened lust they almost felt as intense as a pair of hands touching her.

A thick mat of dark, curly hair surrounded her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav watched me stare patiently at the spot where her legs met.

Her exercising had kept her fit and she only had a small stomach that she knew was much smaller than any other women she knew her own age.

Her heavy tits even hadn’t started relenting to her age.

They were still where they rode on her chest.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav liked their shape and thought the even the slight dropping would give her a sexy, experienced look when naked.

It seemed like I agreed as my eyes spent several long Moments staring lustfully at her tits as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stood still before me.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped forward and straddled my Bachhalyā male lap before lowering herself toward my Bachhalyā Lund.

She reached down and easily guided my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund inside her letting herself fall down taking me all the way inside her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot with little fanfare.

Both of us let out long, intense groans as I felt something and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav felt something she hadn’t experienced ever before.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned close to my ear and whispered,

“There is as much of this as you want.”

I smiled at her words.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started riding up and down on my hard Bachhalyā Lund.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav threw everything into her fuck and she felt alive and excited like Dr. Sītā Bhārgav  didn’t remember was possible.

All feelings of wrong were gone now and were replaced only by a craving for more of this intense sensation.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav guided my Bachhalyā male hands around to her gorgeous Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass and I began to grope and feel it excitedly.

The sheer Bachhalyā male desire Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel from me, thrilled her and made her want my Bachhalyā Lund into her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot even more.

Again, this fuck was not shorter as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav  had thought.

She had forgotten how excitable I could be and how little control she had the first few times I fucked.

She let out another cry as started to cum inside her pussy for the first time ever.

The sensation of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ cum bathing my still in action stiff Bachhalyā Lund  and the feeling of my body reacting so strongly to her orgasm triggered an orgasm in me too that was stronger and longer than any Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could remember having.

I opened my eyes and stared at her in pleasure as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav screamed out when her orgasm started.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav clutched me tightly to her Bhārgav Brāhmañ tits and drove my Bachhalyā Lund as far inside her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could, as her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot  exploded into a long series of spasms and twitches.

It seemed like there wasn’t a single part of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ body that wasn’t affected by her orgasm and when it finally passed Dr. Sītā Bhārgav  sank against her Bachhalyā lover in complete relief and release.

We sat in silence for a long while with my still rock hard Bachhalyā Lund still inside her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot before Dr. Sītā Bhārgav finally whispered,

“That was amazing.”

I smiled,

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to. It’s my pleasure, Bachhalyā Piyā.” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav kissed me passionately on my Bachhalyā male lips.

I sat up and looked at her before answering,

“I’m honored. Yet it can also be so much more.”

After my words she moved to me and we met in a new kind of kiss.

This was the deep, exploring kiss of lovers and not at all like any kiss we had previously shared.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav immediately let her tongue enter my mouth and soon our tongues were dancing a slow, delicious dance together.

We remained in this position kissing and just basking in being naked together for a long time.

How much?

Neither of us knew nor cared to.

Then Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started her second round.

My ever stiff Bachhalyā Lund was already there completely buried into her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot.

She fucked me this time more vigorously.

Her Bhārgav Brāhmañ shame was diminishing now with more and more intimacy.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav fucked me for hours rising and sitting on my Bachhalyā Lund nonstop continually without even a single indication that she was tired even a bit.

Her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot kept swallowing my Bachhalyā Lund nonstop.

There was a third round too.

Then there was a fourth round.

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!

Then there was a fifth, sixth and seventh round.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was fucking me as if endlessly.

My palms were playing with her gorgeous Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks constantly.

Eventually Dr. Sītā Bhārgav rose from my lap and held out her hand to me.

I stood, took her hand, and gravely followed her down the hallway.

For some reason Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stopped at my bedroom and led me into my own room.

My room was just a shade bigger than her own but had the same king sized bed her room had.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav didn’t know why, but something about being with me like this in my own room surrounded by the various posters of athletes, bands, and nearly naked women made the sensation more intense for her.

Since I never made my bed we didn’t even need to move the sheets as we crawled in together.

We resumed our deep kiss from earlier and kept that up for a long while before Dr. Sītā Bhārgav  decided it was time to let me explore.

I was lying on my back and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav  crawled onto her hands and knees over me.

Letting her heavy tits hang down on me Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began dragging them back and forth slowly over my chest and stomach causing me to groan in outright lust.

By the time she had them over my face I began kissing them.
She rolled over onto her back letting me kneel over her as I resumed exploring her tits.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was getting very excited.
For what seemed like hours I explored her tits and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav happily let me.

When Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was so excited and wet that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav couldn’t take any more teasing she gasped,

“Touch me.”

I looked at her as if I was unsure what she meant.

She repeated,

“Touch my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot.”

I reached down and tentatively ran my fingers through her curly pussy hair.

My curious touch was very thrilling and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav longed to see what I would do next.

But Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was too excited to wait any longer for her release.

She reached down putting her fingers over mine and guided me to her clit.

I gasped in seeming surprise at the heavy wetness I found there and let her guide my fingers to the area Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted.

“There! Touch me there!” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav  moaned.

I complied and began rubbing my fingers all over and around her engorged clit.

My touch was almost a turn on for her.

It didn’t take long with my fingers rubbing over her clit, even unknowingly, for her to explode into orgasm again.

I kept rubbing at her insistence and stared down at her watching her body tremble.

After she finished cumming I began exploring her pussy, tits, and stomach with my hands until she reached out and grasped my now rock hard Bachhalyā Lund.

“Fuck me,” she urged as she fondled my Bachhalyā Lund and spread her legs widely apart indicating where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted me to be.

I moved between her legs.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav reached down and guided my Bachhalyā Lund to the entrance of her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot.

With a single push I drove myself all the way inside her.
Tentatively at first I began fucking her as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav gave herself over to me and let me do with her what I wanted.

After a while we reached a tempo that was easy for me to maintain and easy for her to compliment through her own Bhārgav Brāhmañ thrusts.

It felt so good for Dr. Sītā Bhārgav  to have a hard Bachhalyā Lund between her Bhārgav Brāhmañ legs that her head was spinning in bliss.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav watched me riding her as I pushed myself up on my hands to help my thrusting.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel me experimenting with different speeds and angles and most of all she simply basked in my desire and the feeling of my hard Bachhalyā Lund filling her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot so perfectly.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted it to last all day and it did last much longer than she expected based on our earlier encounters.

It ultimately was her own Bhārgav Brāhmañ orgasm that triggered me this time again and not the other way around.

Part of her felt silly at having so little control over her own desire it felt so amazingly good she felt like Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could cum over and over all day long.

When Dr. Sītā Bhārgav groaned and her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot began twitching around my Bachhalyā Lund from her orgasm, it didn’t take long for me to start cumming.

There was no way I could resist the added stimulation of her orgasm and my began just as hers was reaching its peak.

Both called out and groaned over and over as we shared a mutual orgasm.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav felt completely drained and exhausted once we finished cumming and suspected I must have felt the same way.

I collapsed into her arms and we held each other closely.

She ran her hands over my ever young, strong back and caressed my tight hips as we exchanged a few kisses and mostly just stayed together.

I seemed reluctant to let her leave so she asked,

“What’s wrong?”

“Well,” I smiled, “I don’t want my present to end.”

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly at me and gave me a soft kiss on my lips. “Ohhh, Durgesh darling,” she purred, “This doesn’t ever have to end if you don’t want it to.”

The look of relief and excitement on my face made Dr. Sītā Bhārgav giggle.

“Come on, let’s continue till you want to,”

Her hair was still pulled up behind her head but was quite tussled and a bit of a mess.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly at her reflection in the mirror fixed opposite her and decided not to bother fixing her appearance only to get it messed up later when she planned on fucking me nonstop again.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still wore the wicked smile as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav pulled me once again on her nude Bhārgav Brāhmañ young body.

It was good to have an utmost experienced Bachhalyā Lund into her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Choot.

Wasn’t it?

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly once more enjoying my Bachhalyā thrusts once more inside her.*

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was feeling drowsy, but not quite ready for bed.

She sat in her robe in front of the TV, sipping hot chocolate.

She’d meant to watch an educational program on the History channel, but flipping through channels she’d become interested in a trashier program gossiping about lifestyles of the Bachhalyās and their sex lives with Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs and Muslimāt.

She watched this now, half-bored.

It was the usual story shown already infinite times.

The Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs lack the fire in their ever over moral Brāhmañ female bodies the Muslimāt ever do by birth.

The Muslimāt are hottest genetically.

Moreover, the lifestyle of the Muslimāt is entirely different from the lifestyle of the Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs.

Nonsense!

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav herself has satisfied Durgesh completely.

Being a Brahm Padminī, it wasn’t easy for Dr. Sītā Bhārgav to be as aggressive in sex with Durgesh as she was deliberately.

Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could not understand how her Musalmān sisters could manage it.

Their Ammī was the same.

Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl never believed in matrimony.

She was a profound feminist always.

She had sex with Durgesh even.

Yet she never surrendered to Durgesh even.

“He isn’t my husband.” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl used to say, “Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, my dear child, you should have refused to your father to live with him. Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav is a good man. Yet, sorry, I can’t be his Najmah Mandodarī.”

“Ammī Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said politely, “Dad is only named Dashānan Bhārgav. He has no similarities with the historical Swarñ Lankéshvar Rāvañ Vaishravañ Paulastý.”

Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Al Åāyeshah Al Jalāl laughed.

“Really? Only because Dashānan Bhārgav compelled me successfully to give you to him, you think Dashānan Bhārgav is a responsible father?”

“Dad didn’t took only me, Ammī Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said bitterly, “He compelled you to give him his every offspring from you. Nevertheless, he always requested to take care of us. He always invited you to live there in Golden Creations, Golden Capital City. What the more is needed to prove that Dad Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav is a perfectly competent and responsible father? Even Swarñ Lankéshvar Rāvañ Vaishravañ Paulastý had not only abandoned his daughter, Brahm Jagdambā, Sītā Rāvañi Vaishravañ Paulastý.”

Chapter 22
———————————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 9

Fa qatulū almusharikīn

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 9

Saifunnisā Al Islam
Durgesh Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan

Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had been the Director of Security through all Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven Movements.
It would certainly have been a backbreaking job if I were not fucking her constantly.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan enjoyed my Uncut Hindu Lund continuously constantly into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot nonstop.
She never knew she needed sex that much with me.
Today almost entire Creations were against Pseudo Musalmīn terrorism.
They were killing the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists everywhere openly attacking them.
Since Narendr Modi had become the Prime Minister of India, not even a single Pseudo Musalmān terrorist had succeeded in entering India.
Everyone of them was either killed on the spot when trying to enter, or worse.
S/he was arrested alive.
“Sit down, Saifunnisā.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said, “Let’s keep this on a friendly basis if we can.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam hooked both her thumbs in her sash and remained standing.
“Friendly? With a traitor?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had anticipated it.
She pushed her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my nude lap, swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and smiled patronizing Saifunnisā Al Islam.
“With an accused traitor.” She corrected her, “You are a Councilwoman. I’m sure you understand the wide difference between a traitor and an accused traitor. Don’t you?”*

Saifunnisā Al Islam watched Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan cunningly.
“Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, you know very well that you haven’t come to the point where accusation, even by the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, herself, is the equivalent of conviction. I trust you never do. Your job is to clear me if you can. You would do so now while no harm is done, except to my pride, rather than be forced to make it all a matter of a public trial. You hope I’m with you in this.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan understood the situation perfectly she was dealing with.
Saifunnisā Al Islam wasn’t an ordinary Councilwoman of the House of the People of Modern Democratic Årabia.
She was a learned young woman.
It was not easy to deal with Saifunnisā Al Islam.
Yet, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself wasn’t an ordinary young woman.
She wasn’t Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, because she was the elder sister of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had earned this prestigious post through her own hard work and achievements.
“Let’s not bother with ingratiation. You asked for it.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said politely, yet authoritatively, “You had witnessed what happened even to Imām Muħammad Ħasan when he challenged the authority of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Yet you did the same. Definitely you never expected you could get away with it.”*

Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled ironically.
“I thought we are in a democratic system.”
“Sure,” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself said ironically too, “But you are against it. You want to fail our democracy.”
“That’s the accusation, I think.” Saifunnisā Al Islam again ridiculed Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“You still think you can face the charges of treason against you?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously.
“I want to expose you all. No democracy is being practiced here. If it were democracy here really, you were not establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah here.”

Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled at Saifunnisā Al Islam ridiculing her.
“I hope you are intelligent enough to understand neither you have majority here, nor your supporters. The majority of Modern Democratic Årabia is not with you.”
“That’s what you think,”
“That’s what I know.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled triumphantly confidently, “Even your Love Jihad has failed everywhere miserably. Each and every attempt of it is immediately detected everywhere before even a single success in it. The Pseudo Musalmīn culprits are losing their manhood forever as soon as they even imagine even to deceive the innocent non-Muslim girls. It’s not old times now. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp, Sanā Kr’tyug. The sooner you understand the sooner you can save the manhood of the remaining Pseudo Musalmīn.”
“We refuse to let Yogi Āditýnāth be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said determinedly.
“Who are you to decide who will be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh? Are you a citizen of India?” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at Saifunnisā Al Islam contemptuously.*

Yogi Bhāskarnāth was unable to understand how he could get rid of the ever-crazy Mujāhidāt that were having sex with him constantly on this or that pretext.
They just made him lie on his back undressed and straddled him one by one, fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth despite his every effort to avoid it.
“We would never let you complete your Celibacy Practice, your so called Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Al Jihad fil Islam said fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth aggressively, “We don’t want another Yogi Āditýnāth.”
Yogi Bhāskarnāth could not do anything, except to lie there on his back and let them fuck him.
He understood actually, their Pseudo Musalmīn terrorist husbands had either lost their manhood completely, or losing their interest in sexual intercourse itself.
“Young ladies, you never understood our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Yogi Bhāskarnāth said, “You don’t want to let us become another Yogi Āditýnāth. But our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, doesn’t require other persons cooperation too. Even if you keep fucking us endlessly, our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, would never be discontinued. We aren’t having sex with you. You are having sex with us. We aren’t responsible for what you are doing with us. Our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, is discontinued only when we ourselves have sex with you.”*

Saifunnisā Al Islam looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“We aren’t fighting for democracy in Uttar Pradesh, India. We are fighting for Islam.”
“And Islam is against democracy?”
“Democracy isn’t Islam.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said curtly.
“On the contrary, Islam revived democracy in then Årab.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. “Al Qur’an Al Karīm never claimed Islam was a new religion. It was the same religion Hindus call Hinduism, Hindutv, adjusted properly to suit then Årab environment.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously, “You love Hindu Lund entirely unashamed of you. That’s why you are resorting to these un-Islamic philosophies.”
“And you don’t love Hindu Lund?”
“Never. I hate Hindu Lund instead, on the quite contrary.”
“And that’s why you yourself went to Durgesh and fucked him.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan laughed sarcastically.
“That’s not the same thing you do.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said scornfully, “We need money for our Al Jihad fil Islam. Durgesh is the utmost richest multi zillionaire of our times. He is a moron to think he can change us from an Islamist into a so-called humanist. We challenge him to do it with us. The fact is Durgesh isn’t changing us. Instead, the more Durgesh fuck us Mujāhidāt the more he is converted to Islam.”
“And that’s why you so called Mujāhidāt keep fucking Durgesh?”
“Why shouldn’t we?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled.
“I never said you shouldn’t. I said what you are doing is actually itself establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Have you ever realized it?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled cunningly.
“Keep living in fools’ paradise as much as you please, Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia. We aren’t doing any such thing. Nevertheless, if you really think we are too establishing your dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, why the hell you call me a traitor? Are we not doing the same thing you are doing either knowingly or unknowingly?”

Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at me complaining.
“Durgesh, you’ve fucked these so called Mujāhidāt too much. They are capable to argue rationally too.”
I smiled cunningly.
“Well, you can’t blame me, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan, they are too beautiful to resist. Aren’t they?”
“Damn you, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam and I both laughed.
I looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan gravely.
“Don’t blame me for it ever, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan. I’d never stop it. Whatsoever the reason a woman has, or says to have, for having sex with me, the fact that she is having sex with me makes me her husband according to my morals.”
“Nonsense,”
“We Hindus believe in Vivāhāshŧakam and Ashŧmaithunam. I think it’s more humane to believe in these two principles. If you don’t agree with me, try to convince me why isn’t it so.”*

Shankar Mahāpralayankar rose from the blackjack table, smiled all round, threw the pretty croupier a large tip, and pocketed twenty gold five hundred dollar chips.
Ten thousand dollars.
Not bad for a fast half hour’s work while Fātimah Al Wahāb was sucking his Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh never appreciated Shankar Mahāpralayankar for humiliating Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists even.
Let him not.
The humiliation of Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists pleased Shankar Mahāpralayankar always.
Fātimah Al Wahāb was still sucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund shamefully.
She couldn’t do anything.
Numerous females, houseladies of members of al-Qaeda, were forced to suck Uncut Hindu Lund publicly, not of Shankar Mahāpralayankar only, but other Hindus’ as well.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and his followers were challenging not only Ayman al Zawahiri , his entire al-Qaeda instead.

Shankar Mahāpralayankar surveyed the crowded Las Vegas casino.
His dark eyes flicked back and forth amongst the assembled company.
The beautiful Musalmān houseladies in floral dresses exhibited surprising strength as their beautiful arms pulled firmly on the slot machines.
Florid faced couples, Hindu male Musalmān female strictly, none else, filled with excitement, picked up a fast eighty or ninety dollars at the roulette tables.
Strolling beautiful Musalmān houseladies of the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, blank eyes alert for the big spender Hindus.
The big spender Hindus themselves, in polyester leisure suits, screeched away in Middle American accents at the crap tables.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
Las Vegas always amused him.
They always cooperated whenever Shankar Mahāpralayankar wanted to humiliate Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists publicly in this way.
The hustle and the bustle.
The win and the loss.
The total fantasy of it all.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar loved to fuck Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists right from the beginning.
As soon as he was capable of having sex, he enjoyed it with them too much.
“Stop it!”
“Never!” Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled cunningly even then.
“Stop it, I say,”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar said notoriously, smiling.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no. I mean it, No!”
“Why not, you like it you say.”
“I don’t, I don’t. Oh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Ooooooh!”
It was always the same story.
No, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t do it, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t touch me there, Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Yet, the story always had a happy ending.
As soon as Shankar Mahāpralayankar found the magic button, the Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists stopped protesting.
The beautiful nude Musalmān legs opened in invitation and they hardly noticed when Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s immensely experienced fie upstanding Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated their Musalmān Choots
Shankar Mahāpralayankar, the Muslimātchod Hindu, was his nickname.
It was true that after Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the second ever successful young Hindu man that had screwed more Musalmān ass than anyone else, including Musalmīn even.
Even the Musalmīn were jealous of Durgesh and Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled when the Pseudo Musalmīn praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was the first Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked in his ass when he praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
“Sālé, praising your Hindu father? Or your Hindu Jījū? Durgesh is fucking both your Ammīs and sisters now.”
Al Åbd Al Wahāb cried helplessly.
“Because you forced me to request Durgesh to fuck them. Otherwise, you and your ever communal Hindus had molested them. Neither I had another option, nor did my Musalmān houseladies.”
“How do you feel when you lick the optimum fucked Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of your beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Al Åbd Al Wahāb?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar pushed his Uncut Hindu Lund again entirely into the ever feminine Musalmān ass of Al Åbd Al Wahāb.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was feeling himself immensely humiliated.
Yet he couldn’t do anything.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was more powerful and he had every evidence against him.
If the police had those evidences, Al Åbd Al Wahāb was certainly hanged till his death.
He never wanted to die.
What’s wrong even if Durgesh is fucking his entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies?
Wasn’t that they themselves wanted to?
Abbū, Al Qahar Arraħīm Al Wahāb, was a devoted Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān.
Yet, what happened with him?
Osama bin Laden was killed but Abbū was captured by Shankar Mahāpralayankar, himself.
Osama bin Laden was born on 10 March 1957.
Abbū was entire ten years older than Osama bin Laden.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar deliberately captured Abbū alive and blackmailed his family and followers to immense degradation and humiliations.
It was still continued.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no!”
“Aw, c’mon, Al Qamar Annisā’. Let me just put it there, just next to you. I won’t put it in, I promise I won’t!”
“But Shankar Mahāpralayankar!”
“There. I told you. Doesn’t that feel good?”
“Mmmm, I guess. But don’t move, promise you won’t move.”
“’Course not. I just want to be next to you, that’s all.” Gently Shankar Mahāpralayankar eased his Hindu prick inside her Musalmān Cunt.
“What are you doing?” Al Qamar Annisā’ squealed.
“Just getting comfortable,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar replied, easing his hand down between her legs, feeing for the magic button.
Al Qamar Annisā’ gave a little sigh.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar had found it.
“Feel nice?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar inquired solicitously.
“Oh, yes, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Oh, yes.”
All set.
No problem.
Keeping his fingers on target, Shankar Mahāpralayankar started to screw Al Qamar Annisā’ properly.*

Al Qamar Annisā’ didn’t object.
Instead, she smiled cunningly.
She wasn’t stupid enough not to know what Shankar Mahāpralayankar was doing.
After all Al Qamar Annisā’ was a mujāhidah of al-Qaeda.
She understood more than even the other members of al-Qaeda suspected.
She knew it wasn’t any Al Jihad fil Islam at all.
It was an outright Årab Imperialism.
If it was really an Al Jihad fil Islam, why the Islamic State of Al Baghdadi is trying to defeat al-Qaeda in Pseudo Islamic terrorism?
Right from the moment Ħazrat Muåāwiyah started to send strategic news of Al Jihad fil Islam to the Kħalīfah, Caliph in power those days, the downfall of Islam and the rise of Pseudo Islam had started.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported anything wrong.
He reported actually what Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
Yet, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported in detail what positive Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
He reported in quite detail what wrong Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd ever did.
It was never a wrong reporting.
Yet, it was never an entirely unbiased reporting too.
It was a very clever, very shrewd strategic reporting that ultimately resulted in the removal of Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd.

Shankar Mahāpralayankar knew how to please a woman that was so devoted to her cause.
He had been taught by Durgesh himself how to find the magic button.
It was a lesson Shankar Mahāpralayankar was forever grateful for.
It gave him an edge over the other Hindus.
Right from the beginning of the era when Ħazrat Muåāwiyah was coming into power, it was a game of cats, dogs and rats, whether strategic or entirely unashamed open.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah himself never promoted the persons who were involved in kidnapping and selling of beautiful Musalmān houseladies to Hindus.
The Hindus were living in India that was called Golden Bird then.*

Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of himself for being at least second Hindu the beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists were crazy of.
Durgesh was the first, no doubt.
Nevertheless, his morals were somewhat different from Durgesh.
Even numerous of his Hindu friends and followers thought all there was to screwing beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists was a fast shove.
After Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar also knew it was just as important to make them like it, want it, and even beg for it.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of Al Qamar Annisā’ that she laughed when her family disowned her.
“I sympathize with my family persons.” Al Qamar Annisā’ smiled now fucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar herself.
“As I do?” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled proudly with utmost conference in herself.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed.
“The reasons are different, Al Sidrah Al Aħmad.”
“I know.” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled bravely, “You too are against my life style. Nevertheless, I’m neither discouraged nor even a bit ashamed of it.”
Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl was fucking Al Sidrah Al Aħmad now.
Despite the fact that Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl never appreciated the life style Al Sidrah Al Aħmad had adopted he believed in the freedom for everyone, including Al Sidrah Al Aħmad too, of course.
He had read the Renouncement of Al Sidrah Al Aħmad by her family ultimately.
Unlike Al Qamar Annisā’ Al Sidrah Al Aħmad’s family didn’t disown her immediately.
Her family gave her even more than fifty years to return to the basic moral values of Islam.
Yet Al Sidrah Al Aħmad never cared for it.
She continued to live her ever-irresponsible life towards her family reputation.
Al Sidrah Al Aħmad continued to fuck every Hindu male she came in contact even if he was a peon, driver, servant, whatsoever the hell that Hindu male was.

Chapter 10
——————————————————————————-

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


Bahoo Bégum: 6

Bahoo Bégum

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 6

Durgesh Mubīnah Ǻzīm

Ultimately, we had a family reunion, of sorts, in northern Vermont.

HVSI had rented out for me an entire wing of a small Inn nestled on the slope of a plush green mountain.

Most of the family arrived on Friday night.

My stepson, Nādir Shāh Durrānī, tried to keep Mubīnah Ǻzīm up to date on who was there and who wasn’t, but even he got lost in some of the names.

All in all, there were over 20 people there, all related in one way or another.

The proprietor had closed down one wing and more people showed up than we had booked!!

It seemed that two cousins had the same name and as a result, we were a room short!

Nādir Shāh Durrānī asked Mubīnah Ǻzīm if Mubīnah Ǻzīm minded me sleeping in the spare bed in their room.

Naturally, it was not a problem at all.

The cousin, Bābar Saåīd, thanked us profusely and I moved my suitcases into their room.

A roaring fire burned brightly in the stone fireplace erasing the early chill of a Vermont evening.

With Bābar Saåīd at the piano, and Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s cousin, Ħamīdah Ashraf, leading the singing, we all sang Kishore Kumar songs.

We shared some more wine, except me, naturally, and by the time 1:00am rolled around, we were ready to stumble up the old creaking stairway to our respective rooms.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm was horny.

She giggled, groped, and grabbed Nādir Shāh Durrānī’s sweet ass all the way up the stairs, only to disappointingly remember that they weren’t alone.

It was cool in the room.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s nipples hardened up right away.

Nādir Shāh Durrānī slid into bed behind Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

She spooned his body to hers carefully resting his palm on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tit.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm let it rest there.

However, soon Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt the hardness of his cock in her back as his hand softly and slowly massaged Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tit.

It was a miracle as Mubīnah Ǻzīm never found her husband’s cut Musalmān noonī so erect before.

Was it because his Anant Muslimātchod Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, too was there and Nādirshāh Durrānī wanted to prove to me that he wasn’t so incompetent at all?

Mubīnah Ǻzīm couldn’t decide.

I lay 5 feet behind Mubīnah Ǻzīm, in the other double bed.

There was nothing Mubīnah Ǻzīm and her husband, Nādirshāh Durrānī, could do.

Or could they?

Mubīnah Ǻzīm arched her back and moved her hips so that Nādirshāh Durrānī’s cut Musalmān noonī slid somewhat along Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s ass crack.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm took his hand and grabbed his index finger with her lips.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked his finger as Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked his cut Musalmān noonī so many times before.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm licked the tip with her long, pink tongue and then slowly pushed the whole finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.

Nādirshāh Durrānī groaned.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm continued her gyrations and could feel the entire length of his cut Musalmān noonī continuing to slide against Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s nightie, pressing against Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s butt crack.

His cut Musalmān noonī was pulsating already.

Nādir Shāh Durrānī loved to watch Mubīnah Ǻzīm play with herself.

Therefore, while his hands were on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s, Mubīnah Ǻzīm squeezed her juicy tits together, being careful to make him feel that Mubīnah Ǻzīm was squeezing each nipple too.

And that was when Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt it.

Actually, she heard it first.

A groan from Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s husband, followed by a wetness on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s ass.

Nādirshāh Durrānī had reached his climax and Mubīnah Ǻzīm was just getting started!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt his hard cut Musalmān noonī go soft in seconds.

Well, it wasn’t anything new.

It happened almost every time.

After HVSI’s never before Psychological Revolution it started to happen more and more frequently.

Was it really Infinite BrāhmKalp now?

The Muslimāt would really be rescued by the capable Hindus as they were being rescued when Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam and Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn were alive?

They say it’s written in Bhavishý Purāñ that even BHOJ and Kālidās were among such rescuers of Muslimāt.

He had to finish Mubīnah Ǻzīm off … he had too, but then he said “ohhh honey, thanks sooooooo much.”

Nādirshāh Durrānī rolled over away from Mubīnah Ǻzīm and before Mubīnah Ǻzīm could say, “Hey, you left a wet spot on the bed, you jerk,” he was asleep.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm rolled out of bed and made her way down the hall to the woman’s community bathroom.

There were several towels.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm took two of them, one to dry herself off with, and the other to put down on the bed to lie on.*

When Mubīnah Ǻzīm returned, there were two men quietly sleeping away.

Since they were asleep, Mubīnah Ǻzīm decided to just quickly change into another nightie.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wanted to get the cum soaked one off quickly.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm slid the spaghetti straps off her shoulders.

Suddenly she realized from the mirror that there was a lot of light streaming in from the street through the window and onto Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought about being modest and realized that the cum on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s back was beginning to get cold from the cool air.

We, both the men in the room, were sound asleep.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm quickly slipped the gown from her chest, hips, and dropped it to the floor.

All that was left was Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s thong and damn! That was cum-wet, too!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s thong joined Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s gown on the floor.

The streetlamp light filtered through the cracks in the horizontal blinds and shined upon Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful naked Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān  body.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm saw herself in the mirror and though, Mubīnah Ǻzīm rarely looked at herself, she had to stop and take a look.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm cupped her exquisite Musalmān  breasts with her hands and hefted them.

They hung a little longer than most women Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s age, but they were also fuller with silver dollar sized nipples that pointed forward and hardened at a moment’s notice.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought to herself that they were every 9th grade boys dream, big and cuddly.

Unfortunately, with the exception of Nādirshāh Durrānī, most college and post college guys Mubīnah Ǻzīm dated had the mentality of a 9th grade boy!

Fortunately, for Mubīnah Ǻzīm, Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tits had a direct telephone line to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Through the years, Mubīnah Ǻzīm had been lucky enough to cum just from a guy sucking them!

Thankfully, Mubīnah Ǻzīm met a nice, caring and understanding guy like Nādirshāh Durrānī who loved to suck her tit!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hands flowed down from Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts and across Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s stomach and down to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s thighs and finally around to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s firm gorgeous Musalmān ass.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm loved her firm gorgeous Musalmān ass.

She was very much proud of it.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts got a grade of B, but Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s firm gorgeous Musalmān ass got an A+!!

Jogging, field hockey, softball, and basketball all pay off in a nice trim and firm female Musalmān ass.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm bent over to get some new undies and gown from her suitcase, when Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought she heard a groan.

Maybe it was a moan.

Maybe it was a grunt.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm quickly got her undies and new nightie on and jumped into bed.

Damn! That wet spot was now freezing cold!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm reached down to the floor, found the towel and got it under her.

It was rough on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s skin.

In frustration, Mubīnah Ǻzīm elbowed Nādirshāh Durrānī in the back.

He barely felt it.

First, Mubīnah Ǻzīm still hadn’t climaxed and second, Mubīnah Ǻzīm was left with the mess!

A few minutes later, Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s eyes drooped and Mubīnah Ǻzīm began to nod off to sleep.

Out of the corner of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s eye, I got out of bed and went down the hallway to the community bathroom.

I came back with a towel.*

Mubīnah Ǻzīm awoke to the bright sun, shining through their east window, onto Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s face.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm could hear kids laughing outside and quickly realized that Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s husband, Nādirshāh Durrānī, and I were gone.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm remembered that we were fishing in one of Vermont’s finest lakes for some fish that will be too small to keep!

Actually, I had claimed to catch a rather large bass here last year.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm lay there remembering Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s husband’s cut Musalmān noonī gliding along the material of the gown and Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s firm gorgeous Musalmān ass crack.

As Mubīnah Ǻzīm lay on her back, Mubīnah Ǻzīm allowed her fingers to slide down Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tummy and across Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s pubic hair to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s rapidly juicing extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī  Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s slender finger found her protruding clit and slowly worked it back and forth.

Ahhhhhhhhh, now that feels good.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm worked it a little faster while Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s left hand found her tit and already hard nipple.

She needed the release.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm needed the feeling of sweeping, intense orgasm rushing all over Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān  body.

To get this, all Mubīnah Ǻzīm needed was a warm tongue, why not Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s own?, on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s nipple and a moving finger on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s clit!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hand continued its gentle rubbing, back and forth, up and down.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm closed her eyes and envisioned herself kneeling before Nādirshāh Durrānī‘s throbbing cock.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s lips part and Mubīnah Ǻzīm take the velvety head into her mouth.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tongue encircled the rim of the head and suck hard.

In Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s fantasy, Mubīnah Ǻzīm could smell his sweat and hear his panting.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hands wrapped around his hips.

They squeezed his ass cheeks pulling his cock deeper into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth forcing the head down Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s throat.

When Mubīnah Ǻzīm got horny like this, Mubīnah Ǻzīm loved to suck cock.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm loved to drink cum.

As Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s fantasy continued in Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mind, Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hands stroked Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s skin moving back down to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy  lips, pulling them apart.

A moan escaped Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s lips as she pushed two fingers deep into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tunnel was wet and hot, soaking Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s fingers.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm could feel the tension welling up inside her, preparing to climax.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wanted to climax.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm needed to climax.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s chest heaved with anticipation as Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s fingers from Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s right hand plunged deep and hard into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy while Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s left hand frigged Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s clit.

Another moan left Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s lips and wafted up into the air.

As Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s right hand continued its assault on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Mubīnah Ǻzīm brought Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s left hand up to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s wobbly tit and lifted it to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth, sucking in the dark, hard nipple.

“Mmmm – that feels soo good! Release isn’t far away, now … ” Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought.

The vision of Nādir Shāh Durrānī’s pulsating cock preparing to pump sweet cum down Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s throat filled Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mind.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breathing intensified as Mubīnah Ǻzīm prepared to have Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy  squirt Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s juices all over Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hand.

There was a gentle knock at the door.

“Oh shit!” Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought.*

Mubīnah Ǻzīm pulled the covers up over Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s body covering Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts, but Mubīnah Ǻzīm could not disguise Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breathing.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm was still breathing hard.

“Who is it?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm called out.

“Oh, it’s just me,” called out I. “Do you want me to come back later?”

“Uhhhh, no, that is fine. I’m just not dressed, yet..”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm heard me chuckle through the door and say, “I certainly don’t mind.”

“You Hindu scoundrel!” Mubīnah Ǻzīm called out with a laugh. “Then come on in!”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm opened the door shyly and it was obvious that I was drinking Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān  figure in.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm realized too late that Mubīnah Ǻzīm had pulled the covers to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s bed much too tight showing the full outline of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s body.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts still heaved as I entered.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm was so horny and so close to cumming.

Looking at me, Mubīnah Ǻzīm saw an older man, perhaps 60 plus, in solid shape with a broad chest.

I was certainly Nādirshāh Durrānī’s father in every way.

I knew that Mubīnah Ǻzīm was looking at me in 25 years.

I looked around gravely for some clothes.

I wore jeans and a sweatshirt, but was looking for a T-shirt as it was warming up outside.

I found one, quickly whipped off my sweatshirt and pulled on my T-shirt.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm remembered thinking that if Nādirshāh Durrānī lookd like this at 60+, he won’t be doing too bad!

My chest hair was thicker than Nādirshāh Durrānī’s was and actually, my tight biceps and chest looked like someone much younger.

My face was just exceedingly handsome.

I smiled.

Then Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled too in response.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm watched me take in another long look at her as I left the room.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm lay back down but realized that she’d better get up and get some breakfast before the morning was gone and so was the pancakes!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm quickly put on new panties and a bra and decided to clean up the room.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm picked up the clothes from the previous night and found a towel on the floor.

It was crusted with old cum.

“Geez” Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought, “I didn’t think Nādirshāh Durrānī climaxed this much last night.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm put the towel in the towel basket and found another by the other side of the bed, this one had much less cum and then the clincher … a third towel that Mubīnah Ǻzīm had used to lay on had very little cum on it.

Three towels, all with cum, and one of them with a lot of cum.

“It seems that Nādirshāh Durrānī enjoyed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s show last night,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm muttered to herself.

She felt a dampening in Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Nādir Shāh Durrānī knocked and walked in.

He loved seeing Mubīnah Ǻzīm in Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s panties and bra and Mubīnah Ǻzīm could see the tent that Mubīnah Ǻzīm created in his pants.

Despite his groping and desire to “fuck right there and then,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm decided that Mubīnah Ǻzīm wasn’t going to be waiting around for him to please her.

He had missed his opportunity.

Had he come in when Mubīnah Ǻzīm did, Mubīnah Ǻzīm would have been in a state to say “no Thank you.”

For now, Mubīnah Ǻzīm brushed his hands away from Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hips, kissed him gently on the lips and quickly got dressed.

Nādirshāh Durrānī joined Mubīnah Ǻzīm for breakfast.

They ate in the dining room that served about 50 people.

There seemed to be people everywhere, and they all knew each other.

Nādirshāh Durrānī wandered off with Ǻbdul Waħīd, a cousin he knew from Rhode Island, to the Frisbee toss outside.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm promised to join them after Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s pancakes.

As Mubīnah Ǻzīm was stuffing Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s 3rd and last pancake into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth, Shaguftah Ǻejāz, Nādir Shāh Durrānī’s cousin from Boston sat down in front Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

Finally, someone Mubīnah Ǻzīm knew!

Shaguftah Ǻejāz was over 35 and had started her family late.

She had a cute short haircut that puffed in the front.

Her smile was infectious and Mubīnah Ǻzīm knew from other times Mubīnah Ǻzīm had met her, she was a no nonsense, straight forward Musalmān woman.

She had her 10 month old baby, named Akbar with her.

He was cute with pudgy cheeks and chubby fingers.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm hadn’t always loved babies, but this one was cute.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wanted one of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s own.

One of the reasons Akbar was so plump was Shaguftah Ǻejāz’s constant nursing of him.

She called it “on demand” and to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s way of thinking; it was the right way to go.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz wasn’t always discreet when she nursed, but she was doing the right thing and had her priorities right.

As Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked at her, Mubīnah Ǻzīm noticed that she had lost most, if not all, of her baby weight and her breasts were still huge from nursing giving her body a Barbie like proportion.

“Mind if I?” she asked pointing to her tit.

“No, go right ahead, I’m kind of curious,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm replied.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm watched as she leaned Akbar across her lap and lifted her T-shirt and cowl neck shirt to give Akbar his milk.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth dropped open as he clamped onto the biggest, thickest nipple Mubīnah Ǻzīm had ever seen.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz must have noticed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s surprise and leaned forward to her,

“I know, they are huge. The thing is, my breasts are huge and so are my nipples. It’s amazing what your body can do! They weren’t like this before babies and now I’m at least two bra sizes bigger than normal. I’m even bigger now than when I nursed Åāyeshah.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well, Premendr must love them.”

She giggled.

“I think it is what he loves most about kids!”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm was confused and she could tell.

“He loves their size and weight and especially what is in them!”

Moreover, she chuckled again.

“Is it true what they say about sexual climaxes while nursing?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm asked.

She glanced around and after a moment, her eyes looked right into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s.

“Mubīnah Ǻzīm, I nurse this little guy here 4 to 5 times a day and at least twice a day, I have these nice little orgasms. You know the kind, they go right down between your legs and cause a tingle.” She smiled again and leaned toward Mubīnah Ǻzīm. “But about 3 times a week, my breasts need a good hard suck so that I don’t get breast infections.” She paused to let it sink in that Premendr sucked her tits 3 times a week.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm nodded and then Shaguftah Ǻejāz continued,

“When he does that with just a little stimulus, I have an earth shattering, bed soaking orgasm that is incredible.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt a tingle between Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s legs.

By now, mostly everyone had left the dining area.

Old Uncle Rafīq was at the other end of the room discussing the hunting season with anyone who would listen.

“Oh shit!” cursed Shaguftah Ǻejāz looking down at her chest.

Akbar was sleeping after having sucked on Shaguftah Ǻejāz’s right tit and now her left tit was “leaking” right through her shirt.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm offered some napkins, but she gave me a look that told Mubīnah Ǻzīm a few napkins wasn’t going to help.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm accompanied her to the women’s bathroom that fortunately had a changing table next to the sink.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm put a blanket on the table.

She put sleeping Akbar on the table and strapped him in.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought she was kind of rough with him, but obviously, she knew her baby and he slept right through all of it.

“Will you just look at this??” she said with some irony and disgust.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked as she lifted her shirts up over her tits.

One tit was flatter or emptier than the other was.

The other, her left, was plump and full and seemed ready to burst.

She motioned for Mubīnah Ǻzīm to lock the door and Mubīnah Ǻzīm did.

When Mubīnah Ǻzīm got back, Shaguftah Ǻejāz had her hands around her left tit and was squeezing and pressing the milk down toward the large, dark brown nipple.

Some milk squirted out, but not like Mubīnah Ǻzīm had expected it to.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm watched fascinated, but Shaguftah Ǻejāz looked terribly frustrated.

“Mubīnah Ǻzīm, I hate it when he falls asleep in the middle of nursing. Coming up here to this reunion threw his whole schedule off and now I’m engorged!”

“Is there something I can do?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm asked feeling rather helpless.

“Honestly?” she asked and Mubīnah Ǻzīm nodded.

“Mubīnah Ǻzīm, I had to do this last night too and my hands are tired.” She hesitated “Can you squeeze for a few minutes?”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm nodded and got closer.

Her breast looked like it was going to burst.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wrapped Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s slender fingers around her tit and gently squeezed.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz closed her eyes, leaned toward Mubīnah Ǻzīm and whispered,

“Harder please.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm squeezed harder and looked intensely at this beautiful tit in front of her.

The areola was dark brown, thick and covered the entire bottom of her tit leading to a nipple that was the size of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s ring finger and the stuck out about an inch!

“Yes, that’s it, I can feel it letting down, don’t stop now, please.” Shaguftah Ǻejāz spread her legs for balance and leaned more forward to Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

Her nipple, brown and glistening with small amounts of creamy milk hung over the sink but right in front of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s face as Mubīnah Ǻzīm continued to work her tit.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz put her left hand on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s shoulder to steady herself as her head tilted back and her right hand rested on her hip.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Shaguftah Ǻejāz moaned lightly, “that’s it, but it needs more.”

Her left hand guided Mubīnah Ǻzīm gently closer and closer, until Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s lips wrapped around her nipple and Mubīnah Ǻzīm began to suck, while Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hands continued to press and squeeze the milk down toward Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz caressed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hair and softly spoke to her as if Mubīnah Ǻzīm was her child.

“Yes dear. That’s it. You’re doing fine, keep sucking.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm glanced down and saw that she had unbuttoned her jeans and her hand was down between her legs frigging her clit.

“Yes,” she continued, “it’s coming to you.”

Then it came to Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

A flood of milk entered Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth and it initially tasted acidic.

It wasn’t like the milk you buy in the grocery store, but then it got sweeter tasting and Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked harder.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz moaned.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked more and more.

It filled Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth and Mubīnah Ǻzīm gladly swallowed it.

She groaned.

Her fingers were furiously working between her legs while her other hand gently stroked and encouraged Mubīnah Ǻzīm to suck more and suck harder.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm loved the taste and Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked harder still.

In just a few minutes, Mubīnah Ǻzīm had emptied her entire tit.

“Please,” Shaguftah Ǻejāz begged in a whisper “suck the other one!”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm didn’t hesitate and took her other nipple into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked it and was drawing milk from it, in less than a few seconds.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy quivered with excitement as Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt Shaguftah Ǻejāz reaching orgasm.

Her jeans dropped to the floor.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm pulled her panties aside and plunged Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s fingers into her soaked, hot cunt.

Shoving two fingers deep, she let out a groan and then a gasp while she continued to frig her clit.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz shuddered.

She shook.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hand didn’t stop and neither did Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s mouth as Mubīnah Ǻzīm watched her face flush.

“Allah! Oh God, YES!” She cried out and Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hand get soaked with her cum like a pumping jet stream shooting.

At first Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought, Shaguftah Ǻejāz was peeing on her, but then the texture was different.

She groaned again and leaned on the sink for support of her weakened legs.

Opening her eyes, Shaguftah Ǻejāz stroked Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s face and brushed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hair from in front of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s eyes.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm lifted her gooey fingers and for some reason, tasted them.

They tasted good.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz stared at Mubīnah Ǻzīm, while Mubīnah Ǻzīm licked Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s fingers clean.

“That was incredible. I’m so embarrassed, I just couldn’t resist! I don’t think I had ever cum that hard before. Now it is your turn, honey,” she said confidently. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm was nervous as Shaguftah Ǻejāz reached out and lifted Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s shirt and Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s bra.

“Allah! My God, you have magnificent tits. They’re beautiful!!” Shaguftah Ǻejāz exclaimed.

She knelt on the floor and sucked them, licked them and Mubīnah Ǻzīm could feel her extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy continue to get juicy.

There was a knock at the door and they both jumped like two kids getting caught smoking in the bathroom.

They quickly got their clothes together while an elderly voice floated into the women’s room.

“Is everything alright in there?” the elderly woman asked.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz called out before Mubīnah Ǻzīm had a chance to “Just a minute, we’ll be right out.”

Shaguftah Ǻejāz looked at Mubīnah Ǻzīm, the lust lost from her eyes, but not forgotten.

“I’m sorry, Mubīnah Ǻzīm; I can’t give you what you just gave me.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her tits as she finished putting her shirt on.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz kissed Mubīnah Ǻzīm on the cheek and squeezed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tit through Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s bra.

“I’ll be right out” she said as Mubīnah Ǻzīm unlocked the door and headed out.

A few minutes later, Shaguftah Ǻejāz smiled at Mubīnah Ǻzīm as she plopped a wide-awake Akbar in Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s lap. “I don’t know where Åāyeshah is,” she mumbled slurping the last of her now cold cup of coffee. “I hope she is with Premendr,” and a smile crept over Shaguftah Ǻejāz’s face.

Her husband Premendr was great with kids.

He was the example that Mubīnah Ǻzīm used to show Nādir Shāh Durrānī that they should have kids.

Nādir Shāh Durrānī thought that their life was over as soon as they have kids.

“I know that a new life begins when you have kids and Premendr is a great example – he hated kids until he had one and now he loves kids!!”

Having watched Shaguftah Ǻejāz, Mubīnah Ǻzīm had a whole new perspective on having kids.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm bounced Akbar on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s lap and he giggled. “He’s sooooo cute” Mubīnah Ǻzīm said with a smile.

Shaguftah Ǻejāz smiled back. Never one to mince words, she said “Pregnant yet?”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled at her bluntness.

She was one of the “good” cousins.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm replied with equal bluntness,

“No, Nādirshāh Durrānī is still wearing rubber raincoats to bed! We discussed babies on the drive up. He is pretty dead set against kids.”

Shaguftah Ǻejāz saw something out the window and picked Akbar up, but before leaving, holding Akbar on her hip, she said “Better to have them when you are young and can chase them around! Don’t wait until you’re old like me!!”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked out the window and saw Åāyeshah swinging happily on a swing set with her daddy pushing her. A few minutes later, Shaguftah Ǻejāz joined them.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm sat and thought about children.

If they had one, Nādir Shāh Durrānī would be a great daddy.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm just needed to get him over the hump of having one.

SATURDAY EVENING Dinner was a bore.

Nādirshāh Durrānī decided to spend some time with his Uncle Rafīq in the basement playing pool.

People got up from their spaghetti dinners leaving their dinner rolls half eaten and leaving Mubīnah Ǻzīm sitting looking for something to do.

Out of the corner of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s eye, Mubīnah Ǻzīm caught me approaching her.

I sat beside Mubīnah Ǻzīm and we began with some pleasant discussion about what we had done during the afternoon.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm had gone canoeing and had gotten soaked when they tipped over.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm laughed at that and watched my eyes casually roam Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s body.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wasn’t even wearing anything sexy, but Mubīnah Ǻzīm noticed my eyes slow at Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s chest and legs.

Well, if I was going to look, Mubīnah Ǻzīm might as well show something!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm was wearing a light cotton dress with a flower pattern and buttons from the bottom of the dress to the scoop neck.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s bra from Victoria Secrets pushed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts together creating a nice long Musalmān cleavage.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wore a soft button up, white cotton sweater.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wore it on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s shoulders as we talked.

My eyes travelled down to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s legs and Mubīnah Ǻzīm crossed them, which caused the split up to the first button to open up giving me Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tanned thighs to gaze upon.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm absent-mindedly played with that button, buttoning it and unbuttoning it as we chatted.

Soon, Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hand left that button, but left it unbuttoned and the sides split open more.

I could now see most of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s young beautiful smooth Musalmān thighs and Mubīnah Ǻzīm was  sure that if I tilted my head right, I could see Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s deep blue panties.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm allowed her hand to rest on the top of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s thigh and scratched it and stroked it reaching higher and higher until Mubīnah Ǻzīm had reached the next button and pushed the dress up further on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s legs.

Now, I no longer had to tilt my head.

I just had to look.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled as several men made sure that they walked past her.

Mmmm, this attention felt soooo nice.

First Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s Anant Muslimātchod Hindu father-in-law, and now Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s stepsons, uncles and cousins were noticing Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s thighs.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm uncrossed and re-crossed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s legs giving me an even better view, deliberately.

I didn’t hesitate and just enjoyed the view.

Why the hell should I hesitated, moreover?

Just to make sure I got to see all that I should see, Mubīnah Ǻzīm leaned forward and ran her fingers down from her knee to her ankle.

I kept talking as Mubīnah Ǻzīm did this and then brought Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s ankle of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s left leg up to the knee of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s right … opening Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s thighs as Mubīnah Ǻzīm went.

My eyes went wide and Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled inside.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm glanced at my Hindu crotch and Mubīnah Ǻzīm was sure that I caught Mubīnah Ǻzīm looking, but Mubīnah Ǻzīm really didn’t care, my Hindu bulge was getting bigger and was extending down my pant leg.

I smiled at Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

“It really is a beautiful Saturday evening. What do you have planned with Nādir Shāh Durrānī?”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm glanced somewhat sideways at me and brushed the hair from Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s eyes.

“I don’t know, but since Nādirshāh Durrānī went off to play pool, I guess that I’m open.” Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled.

“Mubīnah Ǻzīm, I don’t know about you,” I said. *

Mubīnah Ǻzīm opened and closed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s legs again, “But, a nice sauna would certainly take the chill out my bones.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked about at the different people still in the dining hall.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s right hand rubbed the edge of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s dress by Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts and lifted Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s dress from Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts giving me a nice view of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s expensive bra.

“That sounds like fun … just you and me?”

I wasn’t a damnfool enough to refuse her so nice open offer to me.

The Sālī was surely offering herself to me now tired of Nādirshāh Durrānī’s continuous incompetence.

I couldn’t blame Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

It was her natural need after all.

Nādirshāh Durrānī should have met it.

He was her husband after all.

Moreover, I wasn’t the only man available to Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

If I had refused, Mubīnah Ǻzīm could have gone to someone else ultimately.

Then why someone else?

Why not myself?

“Sure, why not?” I said.

“Well, I’m shy about exposing my body to a bunch of people I really don’t know,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled coyly.

I looked Mubīnah Ǻzīm in the eyes and with a sincerity that just about broke Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s heart; I said.

“Oh honey, you have NOTHING to be shy about. You are a beautiful Musalmān woman!”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled and looked down.

“Okay, you win! When do you want to do the sauna?”

My crotch had continued to grow and seemed a lot bigger than it should.

“9:00 ok?”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm nodded and bent over to get her purse giving me a long look down the top of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s dress.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm stayed there so long, Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought her breasts would fall out!

As Mubīnah Ǻzīm got up, Mubīnah Ǻzīm helped herself up by putting her hand on my thigh and squeezing gently.

And Mubīnah Ǻzīm thought Mubīnah Ǻzīm saw my Anant Muslimātchod everlastingly stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost noticeable, Uncut Hindu Lund   jump under my pants.

The hour and a half that Mubīnah Ǻzīm waited for 9:00 seemed like an eternity.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm read her magazines in their room expecting me to show up to get into her bathing suit.

I never showed up.

So around 8:45, Mubīnah Ǻzīm stripped down and put on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s bikini bathing suit.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm had brought it to go into the pool but found out that there wasn’t an indoor pool after we arrived on Friday night.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wrapped herself up in her warm floor length robe and grabbed a few towels from the community bathroom before heading out to the sauna.

At the front desk Mubīnah Ǻzīm asked for directions to the sauna expecting that it was down in the basement, but instead the pretty girl behind the counter said it was 100 yards out in back of the Inn.

She also said that there were 3 saunas back there.

2 were in the same building and the other was another 15 or so yards beyond that.

She drew Mubīnah Ǻzīm a little map on a post-it note and off Mubīnah Ǻzīm went. She also recommended that Mubīnah Ǻzīm pour water over the rocks often and bring some gel to keep Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s skin soft.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked at the gel and it seemed like a good idea.

It was only $3.95.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm bought it!

Barefoot Mubīnah Ǻzīm made her way out the front door and around the side of the Inn.

It was an odd feeling.

The mountains loomed coolly in the distance with a wonderful backdrop of stars.

The cold air caused Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s nipples to stand on end, but strangely, Mubīnah Ǻzīm wasn’t all that cold.

Walking briskly through the frosty grass, Mubīnah Ǻzīm quickly found the first building with the two saunas and quietly entered a dressing, or under-dressing area!

On Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s right was the closest sauna door and it had a small window that Mubīnah Ǻzīm glanced through and then stared through.

There were 3 partially nude people in there sweating profusely.

Suvrat, a cousin of Nādir Shāh Durrānī’s Mubīnah Ǻzīm had met earlier in the day, lay naked on a bench while his Musalmān wife was wearing a full swimsuit on another bench.

It looked like Almās, an aunt, was naked on a bench on the side, her boobs still erect challenged the Hindus present there.

The other sauna was dark and cold.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm opened the door to the second sauna and called for me, but I wasn’t there and it was cold.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm headed back out and continued in the dark to the last sauna.

This was a single unit with the controls on the outside and one door directly into the sauna.

On the outside were hooks for clothes and towels etc.

The light inside was off but Mubīnah Ǻzīm could tell the heat was on.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm cracked the door and called in.

Durgesh?”

My voice came back like a frog croaking in the middle of the night,

“Yes?”

“It’s me, I, Mubīnah Ǻzīm,”

“Yes, of course it is! Please, please come on in.”

“I can’t see anything and I don’t want to touch something and get burned,”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm tried to look around but the light outside the building had blinded her and the inside light was out.

“Sorry, the other sauna was either filled with cousins or broken and I thought you’d be more comfortable in a private sauna. The light is out and the heat is just starting, so you should be safe enough. Here, take my hand.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm reached out and found my hand in the dark. It was softer than Mubīnah Ǻzīm had expected, but I had a strong grip.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt my other arm wrap around Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s shoulders and pull Mubīnah Ǻzīm toward a second level bench.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm began to see things and noticed that there was a triple pane skylight and the stars shown through brightly.

Even so, it was still hard to see in the dim room.

I handed Mubīnah Ǻzīm a drink and told her a story about keeping hydrated while in a sauna.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled, thanked me and tasted the alcohol in the large glass.

It tasted good going down.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm could already feel the juices start to flow between Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s legs.

I knew that the alcohol wouldn’t keep Mubīnah Ǻzīm hydrated, if anything, the dry heat would make the alcohol more effective!
I helped Mubīnah Ǻzīm take off Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s robe and Mubīnah Ǻzīm lay down some towels on the bench.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm still couldn’t see what I was wearing and with Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s third gulp of the drink, Mubīnah Ǻzīm wasn’t sure if Mubīnah Ǻzīm was caring.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm noticed that I was refilling her drink from a large thermos.

I offered Mubīnah Ǻzīm more, which Mubīnah Ǻzīm gladly took.

Now Mubīnah Ǻzīm could see the strong outlines of my muscular arms and chest.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm now knew that I had no shirt on.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled and spoke softly.

“I brought some lotion to keep our skin supple. Want to try it? It is especially formulated for saunas and dry heat.”

It was starting to get hot in the sauna.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s skin began to produce little beads of sweat.

A nice cool lotion would feel good and it would be fun to continue Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s teasing and really give me something!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm lay down on the top bench and handed me the gel.

With the starlight, Mubīnah Ǻzīm was beginning to be able to see more clearly now as Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s eyes finally adjusted.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm rolled onto her side lazily, reached behind and unclasped her top.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm heard the bottle squirt and felt the cool gel like substance on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s lower back.

My strong smooth hands stroked the gel into her skin and Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt like a princess.

Soon, I had both hands working the gel upwards to her shoulders.

I brushed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s hair away and worked the gel into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s neck, back onto her shoulders and onto Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s arms where I stopped.

“What happened?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm whined. “That felt sooooooooo good.”

“Um,” I smiled. “Your back was done …”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm spread her legs.

Durgesh, you haven’t even touched my legs, yet!”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm heard another squirt and adjusted the towel under her head.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt my hands and fingers work Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s calves and around Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s knees.

Halfway up her thighs, I stopped.

Softly, Mubīnah Ǻzīm said,

“Higher Durgesh, just a little higher,”

I stroked her thighs higher and along the sides.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm spread Her legs more, encouraging me to move up to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s creaming extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī  Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

Still softly, Mubīnah Ǻzīm called out.

Durgesh, don’t tease me anymore, please! I won’t bite. If anyplace needs it, it is my thighs.”

Both my hands took one thigh at a time and stroked the gel onto the back of her thighs.

“Higher still, Durgesh,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm commanded calmly.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt my fingers brushing the thin bikini bottom material hiding her leaking extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Each time my fingers touched Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Mubīnah Ǻzīm moaned, “Mmmmm.” I kept rubbing her legs and stroking Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips more and more frequently.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm moaned quietly each time.

When I stopped again, Mubīnah Ǻzīm quietly spoke, “I think I need some on my front, now, can you help?”

When Mubīnah Ǻzīm said it, Mubīnah Ǻzīm heard me grunt.

Before I could answer, Mubīnah Ǻzīm had rolled over onto her back, carefully holding her top onto Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breasts but lying on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s back Mubīnah Ǻzīm let it go so that they were barely covered.

“That felt sooooo nice, please do the front,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm pleaded.

I quickly went about my work starting with her shoulders and upper arms.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s eyes adjusted and could see that I wore a bulky, boxer style brown bathing suit.

I worked under Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s neck and then skipped down to her stomach.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm closed her eyes while I worked the lotion into her shins and across Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s knees.

Again, I stopped at her beautiful smooth Musalmān thighs.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm whispered encouragement.

“Yes, higher … no, don’t stop, higher please!”

When done, I wiped my hands on a towel.

Leaning up on one elbow, but holding her bikini top to her chest Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled at me,

Durgesh, that felt soooo good. Would you like me to rub some on your back or your legs or maybe on your chest?”

I sat on the bench with a smile.

The tent in my bulky shorts showed that Mubīnah Ǻzīm was having a nice effect on me.

“No, that’s alright” I said teasing her deliberately. “I’m fine.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled.

“Well, you missed a few spots and it felt so good that I want to make sure I have this nice gel all over my body.”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm let her hand off Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s bikini top and it fell to the bench revealing her tits.

I clearly did know what to do.

I took the gel and squirted some into her hands.

“Why don’t you watch a bit?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm said with a wicked grin.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm sat up with Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s back against the wall.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm placed her gel-covered hands over and around her sweating neck.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm moved them down and squirted more onto Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s chest and rubbed it into each tit.

I smiled as Mubīnah Ǻzīm did it.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked right at me as Mubīnah Ǻzīm fondled her own tits, squeezing them, tugging them and finally pulling hard on her nipple.

Her areolas were magnificent in the dim light of the stars.

Looking down, Mubīnah Ǻzīm could see them glistening. Mubīnah Ǻzīm squirted more gel into her hands and carefully hefted her tits stroking them over and over.

It felt great and she no longer cared who was in the room. Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s nipples were now super sensitive and the direct connection between nipple and her extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was fully engaged.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm could hear my breathing intensify.

Yet Mubīnah Ǻzīm really didn’t care as her heart was racing.

I needed release from all the pent up attempts at release. Nothing was going to stop me this time.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm worked the gel all over her stomach carefully lifting Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s bikini bottom and moving the waistband down lower and lower.

I was grave now.

Now Mubīnah Ǻzīm was getting curious about what I might have down me for her.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled at me,

“I bet this stuff will stain my clothes …”

I said nothing and watched as Mubīnah Ǻzīm stood up on the floor next to me and dropped her bikini bottoms.

I turned around and worked the gel onto Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s firm gorgeous Musalmān ass carefully spreading Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s cheeks and giving me a full view of all that Mubīnah Ǻzīm have.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm I was groaning and grunting regularly now.

I turned around and tossed her hair back as Mubīnah Ǻzīm hopped onto the top bench.

Leaning Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s back against the wall Mubīnah Ǻzīm reached down and spread her legs giving me a wonderful view of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, which had Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s juices dripping down her legs.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled broadly and enjoyed stroking Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s inner thighs right up to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips. Mubīnah Ǻzīm pulled them apart and stroked Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s clit for me.

She could feel Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s first climax welling up inside her.

“We uh, can’t do this” I said gravely.

“Why not?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm asked innocently.

“Because … because you’re married to my live in relationship partner’s  son!”

“I noticed that you came into that towel last night while watching me …” Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled and worked her fingers into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and all around Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips.

They loved the attention and thickened nicely.

“Yes,” I said quietly; taking my eyes off Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy only to look at her wiggling Musalmān tits.

“We’re not doing anything different now, are we? Except may be we’re doing it a little more honestly, this time?” Now, Mubīnah Ǻzīm had two fingers plunging deep inside her and Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s other hand was fondling her tits.

I didn’t say anything.

Nevertheless, I moaned as Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked her own nipple.

Her hand slowly guided across my hidden cock.

“Let me see it,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm said in a hushed whisper, Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s fingers making a slurping noise against her soaked Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. “I want to see what you have there for me”

“Mubīnah Ǻzīm, I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm reached up both her hands and held up her tits pointing them toward my face.

“I bet you’d like to squeeze these, wouldn’t you … mmmm, they are so squeezable. Watch me” Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled and then sucked each one in turn.

I was graver now.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled again squeezing her nipples “Show me … now.” Mubīnah Ǻzīm said it forcefully and returned her fingers to Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s clit and her extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips.

I stepped forward.

Her fingers continued their rapid pace only stopping to switch positions onto her hard clit.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm gazed down my chest, across my stomach and down to my dark shorts as I slowly dropped them.

“I’m embarrassed,” I said gravely as I continued to lower them.

My eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund  was bent down within my shorts and the first thing Mubīnah Ǻzīm saw was the massive thickness of the base of my cock.

As my shorts moved another 6 or 7 inches down, Mubīnah Ǻzīm still couldn’t see the head.

Finally, another 3 inches and the head hung there.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm guessed “hung” is the right word.

It was hard but so heavy, it kind of hung there.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked at my face – where the hell had I been hiding this Hindu Miracle??
“I know,” I said. “It’s too miraculous. Every woman I have ever had sex with could never believe its miracles. She couldn’t allow it to leave her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy without my promise to fuck her again whenever she needed it inside her again.”
Mubīnah Ǻzīm wanted to try that cock!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s great Hindu stepfather-in-law!

I had a beautiful tool and I did even know it!

Every one of the beautiful Musalmān houseladies did know how to use it.

Nevertheless, they probably had that Pseudo Musalmīn mentality and never even talked about it.

“It is bigger than I thought it would be,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled.

It was long and thick and fat and just plain big.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm pumped Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s clit hard flicking it side to side.

My eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund bounced up in the air.

We watched each other and got closer together focused on each other.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm cried out as her first orgasm swept over her.

Her delicate Musalmān fist slammed up and down my Hindu shaft milking my eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund  while her another hand slowed in Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm looked at me and my miraculously Uncut Hindu Lund.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm knelt before me and took my magnificent Hindu tool into her extremely beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm guessed Mubīnah Ǻzīm should actually say, Mubīnah Ǻzīm took the head into her mouth.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled up at me while Mubīnah Ǻzīm licked my eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund .

Mubīnah Ǻzīm worked on my cock hard and felt my hands resting on the back of her head.

The moans were coming more frequently now as Mubīnah Ǻzīm sucked my cockhead back to life.

Harder and bigger it got in her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth until her mouth was sore from being open so wide.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm lapped at the helmet head and licked on the sensitive underside.

Satisfied that I was ready enough to fuck, Mubīnah Ǻzīm stopped sucking and pushed me onto the top bench.

The heat of the sauna was really beginning to kick in and sweat was pouring off our bodies.

With me lying in front of her under the stars, Mubīnah Ǻzīm got a good look at what Mubīnah Ǻzīm desired to impale herself upon.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wouldn’t ever normally compare men’s sizes and have refused to rate Nādir Shāh Durrānī’s size with other men Mubīnah Ǻzīm had seen the pictures of, but, this was I.

The Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā of the entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies.

Unfortunately for Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s regular love life, Nādir Shāh Durrānī got his size from his mother’s side!

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wrapped her hand around my eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund.

It didn’t reach around.

There was so much skin.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm just worked it up and down over the head.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm just needed my massive eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund  in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm needed to cum again and certainly my eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund  would make that happen.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm straddled me and pushed the head between Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī  Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot   lips.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm worked the head along her soaked lips for a long time, teasing me and herself.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm hung Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s big tits into my face and made me kiss Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s nipples.

They were hard and reminded me of Shaguftah Ǻejāz’s smart Musalmān tits.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wanted her tits to lactate and give mile. Mubīnah Ǻzīm wanted her tits to give her orgasm after orgasm just from a hand play from me.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm wanted a baby from me to suck on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s big tits with the big nipples.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm Mubīnah Ǻzīm was flying.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm couldn’t resist any longer and pushed down onto my Hindu shaft.

Who really knew how much my eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund  she took in.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm only knew that Mubīnah Ǻzīm was being stretched and at first, it hurt.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm pushed my everlastingly unyielding, ever unusual, sixty-five years old, ultimate capable, unique, utmost noticeable, Uncut Hindu Lund  harder and Mubīnah Ǻzīm stretched more feeling a tingling running up and down her spine.

The kissing and squeezing of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s nipples were having their effect.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm jammed down hard on me.

I grunted loudly and Mubīnah Ǻzīm pulled up just to slam down again.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm got into Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s rhythm and fucked my ceaselessly firm, constantly whimsical, sixty-five years old, ultimate gifted, unique, utmost conspicuous, Uncut Hindu Lund  hard.

My hands were no longer at my side as I put them on her hips and helped Mubīnah Ǻzīm slam down onto my Uncut Hindu Lund.

We humped and bumped and groaned and ground our fuck organs together.

Deeper and deeper, harder and harder Mubīnah Ǻzīm hammered down on me.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s climax neared a peak Mubīnah Ǻzīm had never climbed before.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm realized Mubīnah Ǻzīm was holding Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s breath and concentrating on the earthquake of spasms that centered at Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī  Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

I stretched Mubīnah Ǻzīm so far and pulled on Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips so hard that Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s ardent Musalmān clit was rubbed by my massive everlastingly resolute, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate brilliant, inimitable, utmost conspicuous, Uncut Hindu Lund.

Our voices became mute, but our eyes communicated everything.

I was ready.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm was ready.

Even with all the heat around us from the sauna, Mubīnah Ǻzīm still felt my hot Hindu cum shoot from my eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund and soak Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān insides deepest.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm saw a look of peace in my eyes and that sent Mubīnah Ǻzīm over the edge.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s Musalmān cunt muscles spasmed out of control and juices shot from Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

Wave after wave of her female Musalmān cum squirted from Mubīnah Ǻzīm all over my balls and Mubīnah Ǻzīm collapsed onto my chest kissing my face and my lips.

I held Mubīnah Ǻzīm tight against me.

“Oh Durgesh, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā  … ” Mubīnah Ǻzīm whispered.

“Nevertheless, we can’t ever do this again!” I said quietly. “I’m your stepfather-in-law.” My voice was grave enough to mean it.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm sat up slowly.

“Really?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm asked.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm started to move her beautiful young Musalmān buttocks  to work my evermore unwavering, ever whimsical, sixty-five years old, ultimate gifted, matchless, utmost noticeable, Uncut Hindu Lund  some more. “Are you sure about that?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm asked again as Mubīnah Ǻzīm pushed her tits into my lips.

I kissed Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s tits and Mubīnah Ǻzīm felt another climax roll through her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

“You don’t ever want to fuck me again, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā of us entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies?” Mubīnah Ǻzīm swung both tits into my face hitting me with them playfully.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm pulled up and almost off my cock.

“I guess if you don’t want my hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot wrapped around your magnificent eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund .. then fine,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm jammed down on my Uncut Hindu Lund filling herself again and feeling another orgasm wave sweep through Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s body.

More juices poured out of Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s burning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm rode up again,

“Say you don’t want me and I’ll stop,” as Mubīnah Ǻzīm fucked me hard again and again … “SAY IT … SAY THAT YOU DON’T WANT MUBĪNAH ǺZĪM’S Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot  AROUND YOUR Uncut Hindu Lund AND I’LL STOP!” Her sloppy Musalmān Choot slipped up and down my Uncut Hindu Lund joyfully as Mubīnah Ǻzīm pleasured herself with my Hindu pleasure stick.

“Mubīnah Ǻzīm, you know I can say it!” I grunted, my face contorted as my Hindu cum shot up deepest into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān womb.

“Shut up! Tell me your Uncut Hindu Lund loves Mubīnah Ǻzīm’s extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī  Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot  around it … tell me … now.” Mubīnah Ǻzīm smiled.

“Yes, YES … Mubīnah Ǻzīm, my Uncut Hindu Lund  loves your extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot around it, but still it isn’t right. ” I smiled as I finished cumming and it slowly dripped out of her stretched extremely beautiful, extremely ravenous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī  Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.

I tried to pull off Mubīnah Ǻzīm.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm giggled at the sucking sound it made as we were separating.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm hugged me back suddenly forcibly.

“You are a wonderful lover, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Mubīnah Ǻzīm said wistfully, “I am a lucky Musalmān woman.”

I sighed helplessly.

Mubīnah Ǻzīm stroked the hair on my chest.

“Nādir Shāh Durrānī doesn’t have what you have, Durgesh.” Mubīnah Ǻzīm paused. “I, sometimes, I’m going to need to do this again and again, maybe even on a daily basis … can we do that?”

Mubīnah Ǻzīm stroked my eternally stanch, ever fantastic, sixty-five years old, ultimate talented, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund  with her still surrounding, now greedier, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, as it hardened.

I smiled enjoying the attention,

“Okay, I think I need to make up for your lost time. Maybe we can arrange something,” I said with a chuckle.

Chapter 7
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Similar Stories from Durgesh

1. Bahoo Begum

2. The Punishment to my Enemy:4,5,6,7 Ammījān and her son: Durgesh Suraiyā Jamāl

3. The Audacity 4: We need to talk

4. The Audacity 5,16,17,18

5. Ved Nagar 33, 34, 35

6. The Everbest Wives: 37, 39
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam