Parkāyā Pravésh: 1
Posted: January 9, 2015 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Kulsoom Al Faisal, Al Muħammad Al Ħabīb, Al Rashīdah Al Faisal, Al Ůzrah Al Ħabīb, Anjali Chaturvedī, Arundhatī Joshī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Body Projection, Brahm Jagdambā, Brahm Jagdambās, BrahmRaxak Bachhalyā, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Infinite BrāhmKalp, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kaliyug, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Parkāyā Pravésh, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Vinod Sharmā Leave a commentParkāyā Pravésh
Chapter 1
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
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?”
“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
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
What a pleasant change! 1
Posted: October 6, 2013 Filed under: Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex Leave a commentWhat a pleasant change!
Chapter 1
Durgesh Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad
After the funeral we were all invited back for the wake, the reception and get together being at the family home.
I had decided it wasn’t something the rest of my family should endure, my friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, not being really one of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s favourites, to put it mildly.
In fact they were effectively sworn enemies since my friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend had informed his mother and father of their marriage, after the event.
They had assumed it was because Al Fātimah Al Muħammad was pregnant.
But that wasn’t the case.
Al Fātimah Al Muħammad had been urging them to marry for about two years.
Eventually, I went along with it.
I was quite keen.
But I had always had a roving eye at possibilities with other colleagues, we worked in the same organisation, and amongst women I knew in politics as well as neighbours.
Anyway, my friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend suddenly decided to get married one day by special licence.
I informed Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad afterwards and she went apeshit.
Furious with me, but more with My friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad,, she told us not to expect a wedding gift.
My friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend hadn’t and didn’t get one.
Nor did my friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend see much of them after the wedding day either.
A few years passed.
I yielded to my roving eye, but secretly, within the marriage, my friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend had a child Layla and I saw little of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.
My friend’s father’s death was a surprise.
He and Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad had been very close.
I had remembered their affection for each other as well as her affection for me.
It was mutual.
So now in the kitchen, she and I were ensuring that Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s guests were fully stuffed and filled with alcohol in the living room.
Well, I hated alcohol.
So did my friend, Ålī Muħammad.
But my friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend, Ålī Muħammad, hated alcohol even more than me.
They refused to help Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad even in this matter.
I replaced Ålī Muħammad.
The guests were mostly older than Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad and came from his side of the family.
There were a few of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s friends there and with their husbands.
Her neighbour Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān was the centre of some attention, being the only other single woman at the wake.
Everyone was dressed appropriately for a funeral these days.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad did wear black, though it was a fairly tight fitting dress up to her neck with sleeves to her wrists and the hemline to her knees but not below.
For fifty-one she still looked good.
She was not a thin one but with full buttocks and a very reasonable bosom, held up I was sure, with a very firm bra.
She wore low heels and hose.
Her excellent exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks may well have had some support too as her tummy was well tucked in.
I broke protocol by not wearing a tie but an open black shirt with a white t shirt underneath.
My friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend had both been busy serving and now were alone in the kitchen having a stiff whisky each, more for reward for our efforts than anything else.
Despite their all the show that they hated alcohol, ultimately both of them had surrendered to whisky.
Suddenly Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad put her glass on the table moved to me and held me very close.
“Durgesh, I know we’ve been so distant these years and it’s mainly my fault, but I can’t bear it any longer and need to see more of you now.” I had been leaning against the edge of the sink and she leaned completely into me crushing me hard.
She was about nine inches shorter than me.
She sobbed into my shirt giving in to her grief after being so stalwart at the funeral.
I just held her close whilst she gave vent to her sadness.
I could feel much of her soft yet yielding Musalmān body as she held me really tight.
It was a very emotional moment for us both.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s voice broke the connection as she entered the kitchen with empty glasses.
Struck by our posture, she apologised and instantly retreated with a clear blush on her cheeks.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad quickly disentangled herself from me but didn’t appear embarrassed by Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s unexpected entry.
She reminded me of her request and I reassured her that I would see more of her and would be staying a few days anyway.
Later mixing with Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s guests, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān made her way to me.
I hadn’t known her that well before today and took her in visually as she descended upon me.
She was a bit older than Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, mid-fifties perhaps but hadn’t lost her femininity.
A dark fullish blouse and tight skirt held her shapely Musalmān body nicely proportioned with what appeared to be, and were, seamed stockings that were quite unusual these days.
She clocked my visual of her and did the same, I thought, to me.
“It’s good, at last, to meet you, Durgesh. Oh, I’m sorry that was a bit bitchy wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t take it that way Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān. Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re so close to each other.”
“How did you know, Durgesh?” Again she put her foot in it but soon realised I meant about being neighbours.
“Let’s start again, Durgesh, shall we?”
I moved to more neutral ground as she gradually let go her blushing.
Eventually she relaxed and my friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, and my friend sat together on one of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s couch for an hour filling each other in on their lives.
Married, divorced, departed, adult children, she now lived alone happily and, she let me know, liberated by those life changes.
At last guests departed leaving just us three.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad sat opposite on the other couch and kicked off her shoes, tucking her legs under her dress, but not without my noticing that she too was wearing stockings having revealed her soft white thighs as her stockings ended just above her knees.
Still, I clocked it but didn’t think about it.
She and Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān filled each other in on the other guests she hadn’t met and I just listened enamoured of their easy warmth with each other.
Eventually I made my excuses and departed upstairs, slightly the worse for wear from the day’s turmoil and the later drinking. Showering and then collapsing in my old room, I had noticed how little had changed in the room since my departure years ago.
I lay on my bed reminiscing about the day, with just my light dressing gown on and open.
At that moment a part of me just started to grow all on its own.
Then I nursed it so it stood stiff and high as I reflected on the events that appeared to have caused it to stiffen.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad and her crushing embrace, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s embarrassment both then and later, the sheer lushness they both exuded, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s seams, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s white thighs and stockings, her fullness and firmness in my arms.
I began to foster my feelings by attending to my stiff by gently stroking the head of my Uncut Hindu Cock.
Was Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad trying to say anything else apart from her need to be closer to me?
Was she sexually aroused?
Was she having an affair with Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān?
Did I fancy Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad? Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān?
Getting up, I crept to the door and opened it quietly ajar.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad and Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān were now on the same couch talking softly with Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s head on Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s shoulder and her arm around Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s waist.
Nothing suspicious in that.
I retreated and closed my door.
Back in bed, my Uncut Hindu Cock diminished of its own accord and I fell asleep.
I dreamt.
I was coming home one night a bit passed it for the booze.
I slipped in the back door as quietly as possible not to waken anyone.
A small light came from the living room.
Cautiously, I moved to towards the light.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.
Not alone.
With her colleague from work whom she had brought home before.
Where was Al Muħammad, her husband?
She was lying back on a chair.
Her friend Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān was kneeling on the floor between Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s thighs.
Her eyes were closed.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān was deep into her cunt sucking for all she could obtain.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was in heaven.
I sophisticatedly retreated to avoid disaster.
I wake in a sweat.
It wasn’t a dream.
It was a reminder of an actual event which I had blocked in my relative innocence.
It came to me in an instant.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān may well be Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s lover.
Was she fully lesbian or bisexual?
I decided to tread warily round Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.
Going downstairs in my dressing gown to the kitchen I was met by Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad at the sink washing some of yesterday’s glasses, too delicate for the dishwasher.
She was wearing a beige nightie that came down to her knees.
“Hi Durgesh just clearing after yesterday — such a mess. Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“No, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, not at all. I just woke with a hangover that’s all.”
She got me a fizzy to settle my head.
When I’d drunk it and put the tumbler down, she again came to hug me like yesterday, though dressed very differently.
She pressed herself against me.
“Durgesh, it’s so wonderful to have you home. Can you really stay awhile?”
Her free Musalmān breasts were tight against my Hindu chest and her excellent exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks hard into me.
I started to swell under the gown.
She may have noticed for she gradually withdrew so as not to embarrass her or me.
“Love, I’m sorry, I feel so needy, never felt like this before. I want you here to hold me whenever you can. Will you?”
“Of course, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, whenever.”
“So, that’s a deal then. I have to go to see Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān too, as I think I may have upset her as well.”
“Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, I’m sure you didn’t, she’s very fond of you.”
Nevertheless, she went next door dressed in the same nightie with just a dressing gown.
I took my breakfast back to my room to read the paper.
However, I became, again, preoccupied with thoughts of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.
She had cuddled me once again, without any reservation with only her nightie on.
Stiffening once more at the thought of her extreme Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān softness and apparently unwitting sexuality revealed by her not wearing a bra and maybe no panty.
Hell, I doubted now her platonic behavior she had so successfully maintained so far, during her husband’s lifetime.
Well, she was fifty one, I was sixty four, what a pleasant change from almost always fucking new Jet Musalmān Beauties.
Moreover, most of them are Just Eighteen Just Adult.
Are they not?
They wanted to inaugurate their Just Eighteen Just Adult ardent Musalmān Cunts with my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund, even if it were sixty four years old.
The older the better, they argued.
The more experienced I, the better I can handle their Just Eighteen Just Adult daughter inaugurating her virgin Musalmān Cunt with my utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Brigade had successfully changed most of the Musalmān parents’ sexual morals even.
Wasn’t it absolutely incredible?
Yes, but even then, it was true.
The truth was really stranger than fiction.
I had never even dreamed of it.
Nevertheless it was my routine now.
I don’t know how many Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties I had inaugurated now.
They were countless already.
Yes, I had fucked their extremely beautiful Ammīs, Kħālās, Buās, Chachīs, Mumānīs etcetera too to honor them as a courtesy.
Even while their Musalmān husbands were present in the functions and celebrations.
Even then it was a pleasant change for me now that Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was interested in me sexually.
Eīshān, how amazingly beautiful she was even at her fifty one!
If she wanted to replace me her husband in her sexual life, it was an utmost pleasant surprise for me.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was always against the Musalmān Beauties that had any Hindu lover.
If she herself was opting me, it was certainly a historic change in her ever communal morals.
Was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan behind it too establishing her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah?
Even if she was, let her be.*
Suddenly, I heard a door slam and Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad returning more quietly in our front door.
The slammed door was obviously Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s.
What had happened?
Downstairs I found Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad slumped over the kitchen table weeping profusely.
Standing beside her, I placed my arm round her shoulder and gave her a hug to console her.
She turned and hugged in return with her face in the lower part of my tummy, excitingly just above my Hindu crotch.
“Hey what’s up, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad?”
She continued sobbing,
“Oh Durgesh, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s upset with me and threw me out.”
Eventually she calmed.
Aware of movement in my Hindu groin, I lifted her to her feet, drew her to the living room to the couch and sat her down with me beside her.
Cuddling her round her shoulders again I pressed her to convey the problem to me.
Slowly she found her tongue.
“I really can’t say.”
“Can’t?”
“No, Durgesh I can’t.”
“Was she angry with you, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad?”
“Yes.”
“What made her angry then?”
“Sorry, I can’t go there, Durgesh.”
I tried another route.
“Did you try to console her?”
“I did but she just pushed me away and told me to go. She slammed the door in my face after hauling me there and told me to never see her again.”
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was definitely withholding something from me.
“That must make you very upset and hurt.”
At that she lost some of the tension in her body as if it was a kind of release that hit the spot.
We held each other very close for a while in silence.
She put her free arm round my waist, her head cradled against my neck, her ever erect huge beautiful Musalmān breasts pressing against my Hindu chest, holding me as if to acknowledge her release.
Inwardly I was wondering how the row could have started alongside enjoying her physical closeness and feeling a faint stirring below.
Then I wondered?
“Did Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān coming into the kitchen and seeing us have anything to do with it?”
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad unconsciously jolted in my arms but didn’t reply.
I had an intimation of what had happened at last and waited.
“You feel rejected by Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.” A tighter hug followed.
“Sounds like a bit of jealousy to me.” her body recognized my comment.
I continued,
“I can understand her being jealous, but she’s no reason to, has she?”
“Only that you’re my husband’s friend, as well as a friend of my son too, otherwise nothing.”
“Shall I go and see her, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad?”
“Let her cool a bit before we do anything, Durgesh.”
I assented to that.
We were still sitting very close when she gave a big squeeze with her enveloped body still in her dressing gown but the hem had slipped revealing her extremely beautiful immensely smooth Musalmān thighs up to her stocking tops.
I found the sight of her covered thighs and beginning of her soft white flesh exhilarating.
The effect was a sudden fullness in my Uncut Hindu Cock and its immense rise.
She didn’t see my emerging hard on ostensibly.
Her pressure against me did have the effect of pushing her ever erect huge beautiful Musalmān breasts against her open neckline of her gown, giving me a delightful exposure.
“She has to get used to your being around ̶ I’m not going to let her come between us whatever happens.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant but was beginning to lose my cool at that moment.
“I’m so glad you’ve come back to me, Durgesh.” She was looking into my eyes when she moved her lips up to mine and ran her lips across mine, slowly in a way that was certainly not platonic now.
Was Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad really replacing her late Musalmān husband with me?
And as soon as her husband’s funeral is over?
If it was so, she must have already planned it even while Al Muħammad was alive.
What the hell did it mean?
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was not as communal actually as she acted ostensibly to make Al Muħammad believe?
In my long sixty four years of life, I had met so many Musalmīn who were not communal at all, nevertheless they acted to be so to make their communal community believe that they were too as communal as the rest of the community.
Was Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad one of them?
I reciprocated as we went into a kind of trance with our lips.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth opened slightly and I let my tongue slip in the gap at the same time as running my hand down her back to her excellent exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks as I began to slide it over her excellent exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
Realizing my move I stalled my kiss.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad backed off my lips and returned to my Hindu chest.
She must have looked down for she noticed her cleavage but then glanced further down.
Her reaction to the pyramid of my gown was instant.
Shocked she withdrew with, “Allah! Oh God, Durgesh, what now? What have I done? What a bloody mess ̶ Allah, oh shit.
She tore herself away from me and ran upstairs to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
Creeping slowly upstairs I listened outside her door and could hear her crying and sobbing.
I felt callous but it was not good to do anything at that moment, I was sure.
I retreated to my bedroom.
I let my dressing gown fall open and casually stroked myself, letting my thoughts wander over the highly exciting previous hours.
I decided to phone My friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, who could often get a bit sexual with me with phone sex, but she was out.
I decided to give Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr a call.
Bingo the phone rang, she was home, she lived alone and knew I was here for the funeral.
But we had a thing going for us for over a year.
She was as lewd and dirty and always seemed willing to go there even on a Sunday morning.
Very soon, I had her wanking with me over the phone about the whipping I had given her last week at her place whilst watching a particularly hard Årab video about a fifty year old Saåūdī Årab Musalmān woman getting a hard caning and anal fuck by a Hindu while tied.
She was on the floor that day with her fingers in her cunt whilst we both watched the video and I fucked her reddening Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass with my Uncut Hindu Lund too hardened to bear even in her Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass already used to it immensely.
Wild animal anal sex was Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr’s utmost weakness, she never even wanted to get rid of.
Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr was crazy to have my Uncut Hindu Lund into her ever ravenous ardent Musalmān ass.
Her ever pious Musalmān husband never provided her it.
Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr raped me one day consequently to get it from me.
Her numerous extremely beautiful Musalmān female friends had told her, they had already enjoyed immense anal sex too, with me.
I was voicing our highs from that occasion when she started to cum in a crescendo over the phone.
I hadn’t the speaker on deliberately at that moment.
I started cumming to letting her hear me at the same time when my bedroom door opened and Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad stepped in, still in her nightie with no gown on and in her stocking feet.
In the moment before she saw me, she was absolutely calm, but then she was horrified suddenly at the sight of me shooting my day or two’s spunk all into her friend’s, Al Jamīlah Al Vasīm’s extremely beautiful Musalmān Choot.
Silently she fled back to her bedroom banging the door again.
This time I could hear her screaming and wailing even more than earlier.
When Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr came down from her high, I relayed what had happened, and was sure I heard a slight guffaw at the other end.
We parted on intimate terms and promised to meet when I returned home.
She was happy with the arrangement we had as she knew from the outset of my marriage, even though My friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, didn’t.
I decided to face Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad this time and rose, cleaned off my residue with a tissue, tied my gown and went to her door.
She had quieted down somewhat.
Slowly I opened her door.
She had the wit not to lock her door.
She lay on her double bed on the sheet with no cover, still crying quietly.
She looked askance when she saw me sit beside her but said nothing.
“I’m sorry, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, you weren’t meant to witness that. But your friend, Al Jamīlah Al Vasīm, needed it very much. Her husband never makes love to her as wildly as she needs it. ”
At the same time, I lay my hand and arm across her lower back on her silk nightie.
It felt good doing that and she didn’t attempt to deter me but let it happen.
I slowly soothed her softness.
She kept her eyes closed as if ashamed of what she’d seen.
“My fault, Durgesh, for coming in without warning. It’s just my bad luck Durgesh to make things even worse than they are. Durgesh, could you close the curtains, I must still have a hangover, and it’s so bright in here.”
I closed the curtains as tight as I could and returned beside.
She had turned over on her back, still in her nightie.
The darkened room made it much more intimate and cool.
Taking my hand again she placed it on her tummy as if for comfort.
She asked me if it was My friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad, on the phone.
I could honestly say no.
She looked relieved.
“Can I ask who it was then, Durgesh?”
“A friend I’ve known a year or so, Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr, actually.”
“You haven’t mentioned her before, Durgesh. She must be nice. Is she? What’s she like?”
“About thirty, single and enjoys it, likes good fun and doesn’t want to get involved ̶ at least that’s what she tells me.”
“I can see she likes fun, Durgesh. Oh, I am sorry I intruded, Durgesh. I was just coming to make peace and have a cuddle that’s all.”
“You still can, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.”
“This is nice but could you stroke my tummy like you were doing my back.”
“Sure Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.” I had forgotten I had been doing that earlier.
As I started she looked so much more relaxed and closed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes again.
She went silent on me as I moved my hand in circles round her navel.
Her tummy was slightly plump from motherhood and woman years.
I could see the outline of her ever erect huge beautiful Musalmān breasts slightly flattened by her nightie and her years as well.
Nevertheless, I felt a slight stirring down below.
What a weekend so far.
Widening my hand circle, I came into contact with her suspender belt.
A note of caution or another awakening on my part, let alone her.
She was saying nothing, but I could tell she wasn’t going to stop me so far.
About ten minutes passed.
I noticed her extremely beautiful immensely smooth Musalmān thighs and legs relaxing from their earlier tension.
Her nightie was around her suspenders and were on show.
Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr, you just took the first flush, I’m feeling horny again.
“Durgesh, that’s lovely darling, don’t stop, it’s just what I need.”
“I won’t stop, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, as long as you like what I’m doing.”
She settled further down the pillow.
Her head was more aligned with her body.
In doing so, she had let the nightie ride up further, showing her white flesh above those stockings.
She must know she’s having a sexy show for me.
Continuing my circular movements, I slowly moved to a wider circle taking in her lower chest just below her lovely tits and just above her hairy Musalmān mound.
She visibly relaxed even further.
She seemed to be encouraging me to continue.
I was so glad she asked me to shut the curtains.
I had never been this intimate with her in my life and I wasn’t sure where this would end, though I could imagine it.
I started to concentrate on her lower waist just above her hairs and well below where I had started.
She started to reciprocate my movements with her own.
It was if this care had never happened before.
I decided to go for broke.
Lifting her nightie above her hairs, I ran my hand even round her Musalmān mound very slowly and softly.
She let out a great sigh but I couldn’t hear any word.
I was glad I was on her right side as, I could be more dexterous and responsive to her.
I slithered my hand in her hairs in small circles, gradually descending to her still closed Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit.
With her still silent, I slipped my finger into and along her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot between her oh so wet labia and found myself where she wanted me to be, I was sure.
Concentrating on her wetness I ran my finger, along the crevice as I took in her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, and up to her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Clit where I concentrated my attention in between short hops lower down.
But always back to her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Clit, where it was obvious she wanted me to be.
She responded by widening and lifting her extremely beautiful immensely smooth Musalmān thighs now with her knees bent.
I loved the sight of those stockings and suspenders holding them up.
Fucking gorgeous.
I decided to definitely put my own needs aside as I increased the tempo on her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Clit.
I could feel her building up to her high, but then I would slide back down to take off the pressure but then return.
I was now getting on this side of cruelty in stemming her inevitable need so I decided to go for it and returned to that swollen nub more directly by running my finger along the sides rapidly.
At that moment, she let out a pent up scream.
Lifting her excellent exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks to prevent me escaping I helped let loose her cum, an unrelenting cum that seemed like weeks of frustration suddenly let go.
She collapsed but lifted her arms to envelop me in obvious gratitude.
Where do we go from here? I wondered.
—————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 59
Posted: June 21, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Behavioural Science, Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd, Dolly Carter, Durgesh, Duryodhan, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Jacqueline Lincoln, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Karñ, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Muħammad Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex 2 CommentsVolume 2
Chapter 59
Durgesh Al Nāsirah Al Karīm
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm brought my Uncut Hindu Penis out,
“Any objection?” she asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Certainly not, go ahead. Durgesh is unique in sex. His Uncut Hindu Prick is amazing. It extends in length from six inches to just its double. Incredible. Isn’t it?”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled playing with my Uncut Hindu Prick, entirely unashamed of herself.
“Sure, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“Further, his sexual lust for us Musalmān Beauties, us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, is still more amazing. The more Durgesh fucks us Musalmān Beauties, us Musalmān houseladies, the more his sexual lust for us increases. It never diminishes.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at me in greatest appreciation.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Durgesh has infinite sexual lust actually for us Musalmān Beauties, for us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. It makes Durgesh unique. That’s why we have passed a resolution in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat that Durgesh is a Public Property, at least his legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick is. No one single woman has exclusive sexual rights on Durgesh.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“You must be joking. A resolution? Nonsense.”
“On the contrary,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely, “I’m absolutely serious. I never talk loose about my husband.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was stunned.
She looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan dumbfounded incredulously.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm went down on her knees.
She kissed my Uncut Hindu Prick, licked it, then started to suck it swallowing it into her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
There are some women who don’t lose their beauty even when they grow old.
Instead, they are more and more beautiful when they grow old, with their more increased experiences and resultant sophistication.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was one of them.
She was enjoying now my hardness into her mouth, proudly.
It was the unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis every Musalmān Beauty, every extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houselady, was crazy for.
She was still able to have it while even the Jet Musalmān Beauties were crazy for it.
“Where’s your son?” I asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim.” I said.
“He had to see a man. He promised he’d be back in five minutes.”
Her eyes were smiling at me cunningly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was suddenly all alert.
Allah, has Durgesh successfully helped Muħammad bin Qāsim too to disappear?
She had promised Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to watch on Muħammad bin Qāsim.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could concentrate on Al Muħammad Al Qāsim only.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is claiming she still has Al Muħammad Al Qāsim under surveillance.
But Muħammad bin Qāsim?
Has Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan lost him?
In her over confidence?
“How long have you seen Muħammad bin Qāsim, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked gravely.
“Five minutes ago, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said innocently, “Our party broke when my son received a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said that he had to see a man on some business.”
“I see.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “And what did you do?”
There wasn’t any panic in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s voice whatsoever.
She understood very well, panic in her voice would never help her.
On the contrary, it could spoil her image instead.
Durgesh never cared for any of his woman to the extent to disgrace her Musalmān mankind.
Yes, she and her ever cunning Musalmān girlfriends had always successfully managed to use Durgesh for punishing their ever malevolent Musalmān mankind.
But that was the ultimate limit of Durgesh in helping them.
Even Durgesh’s ever increasing ever infinite sexual lust for Musalmān Beauties and extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, could not compel Durgesh ever to cuckold their ever treacherous Musalmān mankind.
He hated cuckolding anyone.
“They deserve it, Durgesh.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had always argued with him, “Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors claim we can’t destroy Muslim Terrorism successfully until and unless we don’t humiliate terrorists Musalmīn. We can’t make them to see our humane viewpoint even without it.”
“And you think Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right?” I asked mocking at her almost every time she said it to me.
“I know Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan almost every time blazed at me.
She asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm again.
“I asked you what did you do.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled triumphantly.
“Came to my stateroom. I slipped my gown off, because I’d spilled some wine on it. Muħammad bin Qāsim will be back any minute. What’s all the commotion about? The ship’s jumping around. I can hardly stand up, consequently. We haven’t run into anything. Have we? Look, there’s a light over there on the water! Moreover, look at the searchlights!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded gravely.
She watched Al Nāsirah Al Karīm while Al Nāsirah Al Karīm sucked my Uncut Hindu Penis skillfully, smartly.
Allah, was the old sophisticated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm winning over great Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
She couldn’t believe it.
Durgesh is supporting Al Nāsirah Al Karīm against Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Hell, no, never!
Never!!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cooed despite her immense wrath internally.
“I’m particularly interested in finding out about where Muħammad bin Qāsim went and what he did.”
“Why?”
“I heard the sound of a shot. An officer of our ship tells me there’s a man overboard. Does that mean anything to you?”
For a moment Al Nāsirah Al Karīm stared at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with triumphant eyes, then she stopped sucking me.
She undressed herself and me too.
Then she again went to her knees.
“Durgesh, fuck me from my behind, please. Let’s go to my stateroom.”*
I enjoyed fucking Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Nafīsah Salmān, etcetera more because they were in my own age group.
I immediately penetrated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm from her exquisite glorious behind.
Her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks filled my nude Hindu male lap competently as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely.
She smiled at me proudly.
I winked at her fucking her passionately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has now disappeared. They think he has been murdered by Al Zohrah Al Bittol. You are a widow now legally. You can enjoy sex with Durgesh now more freely.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“I was never afraid of my legal Musalmān husband, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. If he didn’t like my extramarital affair with Durgesh, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was always free to divorce me.”
“Legally.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan supplemented.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“You mean not practically?”
“Well, it’s never easy for a billionaire to divorce his Trillionaire Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.”
“That’s not my problem.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm herself started rocking her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bottom on my Uncut Hindu Prick back forth and back.
She was enjoying my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt very much.
Well, who didn’t actually?
Were women more animal than males in this matter?
My experiences with womankind answered my question in the affirmative.
But even then I wasn’t sure of my conclusion.
After all I wasn’t omniscient.
There was always a possibility of mistake.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm crossed to the drawer of a dresser.
She jerked it open.
Then she stood looking down at the empty drawer.
Her ravenous back forth and back movements of her bottom on my rock hard Uncut Hindu Penis had stopped now, swallowing entire my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“What is it?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely.
She was a brave, matured and vastly experienced woman.
It wasn’t easy for her to be startled on every this and that matter.
“My gun,” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “it’s gone.”
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan questioningly.
“I haven’t done anything, my dear Hindu husband of us entire Musalmān Beauties.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan told me innocently widening her extremely beautiful young Musalmān eyes.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I said gravely, “if I found you are responsible for anything of it, even your closest friend, Jacqueline Lincoln, would forget you made her President of USA.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I never knew even you are jealous of my ever closest friendship with Jacqueline Lincoln.”
“Ever close friendship?” I grimaced, “Jacqueline Lincoln is your Karñ, Duryodhan.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was shocked.
“Durgesh!”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan isn’t anybody’s friend, damn it.” I said curtly, “she helped Jacqueline Lincoln to be President of USA so that Jacqueline Lincoln could help her in establishing her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”*
Jacqueline Lincoln never thought she too would be on my ship.
She thought it was not respectful for USA.
Well, even if the rest of the world doesn’t realize now, Ved Nagar has actually replaced USA in leading the entire humanity.
“Mom, I don’t know why the hell had you promised Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle to attend the seminar with me in person.”
Dolly Carter smiled graciously.
“Jacqueline Lincoln, Imām Muħammad Ħasan Bhāījān is my milk shared brother. He has done even more for me than even my own real brothers did.”
“I know.” Jacqueline Lincoln said curtly, “Most of my maternal uncles had left us when we needed them utmost. It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle only that helped us then in our survival.”
Dolly Carter’s eyes lit up with immense pride for her daughter.
“You remember it?”
“Of course I remember it.” Jacqueline Lincoln said, “How can I forget, Mom? It was the period that brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me together. Wasn’t it?”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to say something but I raised my right hand to stop her.
I addressed Al Nāsirah Al Karīm instead.
“You and your son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, were going to have a show down about your brother, Muħammad Ůsmān?”
“That’s what I told you already.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said to me, eyeing Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat suspiciously.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling cunningly realizing and enjoying it very much that the situation was still under her control.
“Did you tell Muħammad bin Qāsim what you wanted to talk him about?” I continued.
“I told my son that I wasn’t going to stand for a lot of vague generalities any longer; that I wanted to know exactly whom else he suspected to poison him if not Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and/or Muħammad Ůsmān. After all poison couldn’t have administered itself to Muħammad bin Qāsim.”
“What did Muħammad bin Qāsim say?”
“He said we’d talk it over later.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm had again started fucking me herself.
“He wouldn’t discuss it then?”
“He deliberately avoided it. Just as we were finishing dinner, a bell robot handed Muħammad bin Qāsim a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he had to see a man on some business. That broke up our little company of mother and son. Muħammad bin Qāsim and I came to my stateroom. I told him I was going to have things out with him, that for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah’s sake I wanted his partnership with my brother Muħammad Ůsmān must dissolve now. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back within five minutes. He simply had to see someone on a matter of the greatest importance for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and himself.”
“There was your gun in that drawer?”
“Of course. That’s why I brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and you here, to confirm whether it’s still there.”
“When did you see it last?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked quite disapprovingly it all.
“This afternoon.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm turned to face Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“It was your gun?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you have it?”
“About two months. It was a new gun I liked very much. I immediately purchased it as soon as I saw it.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“I happen to know that your son has been in touch with Åāyeshah Dåūd, the Doctor. I think Muħammad bin Qāsim has tried to reach some agreement with Åāyeshah Dåūd. I don’t know what she told him. It’s a fine situation for blackmail even while Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd is too respected to go down that much. Do you suppose, madam Trillionaire, your heavily spoiled son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, could have gone to meet Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd taking your gun with him?”
“I don’t know.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said curtly watching Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan contemptuously.
Her still strong vaginal muscles clutched my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“Durgesh darling, I want you to promise me that you’ll stand by me, not with your Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, in this matter. Please, someone already trying to frame Al Taufīq Al Fatimah for poisoning my son.”
I smiled at her.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is sympathetic with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus. However, even then, she isn’t actually your enemy.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan uncertainly.
“Let me ask you some more questions before Muħammad bin Qāsim gets here. Just how much have you told him?”*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, pushed her magnificent nude Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my equally nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick once again entirely into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt and said gravely.
“I told him that Muħammad Ůsmān is of course my younger brother, but he was never a responsible person. My Abbū was fed up of Muħammad Ůsmān’s grossly irresponsible behavior. He never took any interest in our business. Even then he was always after money. I had to help Abbū in his business because Muħammad Ůsmān never understood his duties. Abbū naturally was not good at Muħammad Ůsmān. He willed me his sole beneficiary of his billions.”
“And you proved to be the worthy of his decision.” I said appreciating her, “you made his billions the trillions successfully.”
“Thank you.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was fucking me again passionately, yet gratefully now, “You know I couldn’t do it without your moral support even.”
“I always try to support the worthy ones. It was your own courage, fight and prudence that helped you more. I only helped you where your opponents wanted to swallow you illegally.”
“And you think it isn’t valuable? They could have really swallowed me if they were really not afraid of your ever insurmountable opposition. I owe not only my success, but even my existence to you, Durgesh, my life.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed bitterly.
“He is utmost prudent enough to help only extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress. His ever lustful Uncut Hindu Penis never let him resist against it.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“Well, he deserves the remuneration. Doesn’t he? If he is protecting us extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress as even our Musalmān husbands don’t or can’t, why the hell Durgesh shouldn’t get even what our incompetent Musalmān husbands do?”
“What else you told Muħammad bin Qāsim?” I asked patiently.
Neither of them was understanding the gravity of the situation optimum.
They were wasting very valuable time in teasing each other.
Most of the women do it unconsciously.
Yet I never expected it from as exquisitely prudent women as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Nāsirah Al Karīm were.
“That’s all.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “That’s all I had time to tell him.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was still thinking of success of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus in taking care of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
She prayed Allah that she must also prove she took care of Muħammad bin Qāsim if not more efficiently, at least equally.
“Was that after he received this note, or before?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Afterwards. We, Ammī and son, had left the others and entered my stateroom. I talked to Muħammad bin Qāsim for just a minute or two. Then I stepped into the closet to get out another dress. I heard Muħammad bin Qāsim slam the door when I was getting out another dress.”
“Muħammad bin Qāsim told you he had to see a man?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Yes. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back in five minutes and have it out with me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said patiently,
“I think we’d better go on deck and find out what’s happened. You are certain, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Muħammad bin Qāsim took the gun?”
“Yes. I heard him slam the drawer of the dresser. I didn’t realize what it meant at the time. If… if somebody’s overboard, can they find him─ her?”
“It’s a pretty slim gamble.” I observed, “There’s a heavy sea running. They might swing the ship broadside to the wind and launch boats in the lee, but I don’t think they’ll do it until they have something definite to go on. They’ll play searchlights on the water, throw flares overboard, and keep a sharp lookout. They certainly won’t risk men’s lives in an open boat unless there’s some indication the person’s still alive. Moreover, don’t forget that a shot was fired.”
“Do you suppose it could be Muħammad Ůsmān?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked, “Allah, oh heavens! Muħammad bin Qāsim wouldn’t have done that!”
Chapter 60
——————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ved Nagar: 51
Posted: April 25, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Abu Bakr, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Amīnah Zahīr, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Kħadeejah Muħammad, Kħilāfat Movement, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim Terrorism, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Seven Movements, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Threesome Society, Triple Society Leave a commentVolume 2
Chapter 51
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Sun sparkled from the crested tops of restless waves.
I paced the deck, enjoying fresh air and the mild sunlight through clouds.
My hands were thrust deep in the pockets of a double breasted coat.
My rubber soled shoes trod lightly along the teakwood deck.
The cold breeze tried to ruffle my ever black hair unsuccessfully.
The heavy door from the forward social hall was pushed open one inch or two.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan shouldered it open.
She stood there with wind whipped skirts.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stepped across the high threshold.
Both of them released the door.
The wind pushed it against the automatic door check.
I walked behind both of them.
“Ship Ahoy!” I called.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, both turned to me.
“The other side is less windy.” I smiled at both of them.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded.
The cold wind was blowing the tendrils of hair across her extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān face.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan introduced us, “this is Durgesh, my husband, and the Hindu husband of us entire extremely striking Musalmān Beauties, if you don’t mind my bluntness.”
“Naåīmah,” I admonished Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat curtly, “behave yourself, you stupid.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled at me.
“It’s alright. I never mind. Most of us extremely attractive Musalmān Beauties, rather, never mind your titles related to us, actually. We think they are in fact compliments to us Musalmān Beauties instead.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“Now, come on. You Hindu scoundrel, the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, we both are starving to death.”
I laughed,
“Let’s go, my extremely stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wives.”
With an extremely attractive Musalmān Beauty on each of my Hindu male arm, I started forward along the deck.
They were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis impishly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had unzipped me and had brought it out.
With every female treatment of both the extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauties my Uncut Hindu Penis was extending and growing in their fists violently.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was playing with it rather shyly somewhat, but Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not ashamed of it even a bit.
Rounding the bow, the wind pushed us down the sloping incline, into the lee of the deck.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim put her hair back into place, laughed, and said,
“That’s what’s known as wind blown job. I’ve been hearing a lot about you, Durgesh.”
“I’m glad.”
“Most of my extremely beautiful Musalmān women friends are already enjoying your Hindu sex kicks.”
“I’m honored.”
“They say you’re unique in love and lovemaking both.”
“Tell them my numerous thanks.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim faced me with laughing, dark eyes, full red lips, parted to reveal teeth that glinted as whitecaps in the sun.
The silk blouse, open at the neck, disclosed the sweep of her tremendously lovely Musalmān throat, the rounded curve of her firm breasts.
“Durgesh darling, I saw you and my Ammī fucking and talking last night. I bet Ammī told you all about the family mystery.”*
I looked at Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Mystery?”
“Sure. Don’t try to act innocent.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan flashed me a quick glance,
“What’s the family mystery, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?”
“The disappearance of my portrait. Ammī packed my autographed picture in Abbū’s bag. She locked the bag carefully. When they unpacked, my picture was gone from the frame. Someone had inserted one of Zāherah Ħusayn instead, the Pakistani Musalmān heroine that worked in Indian movies too. I resemble her to the extent as if we both are twin sisters. Now, what do you know about that?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan glanced reproachfully at me.
“I know nothing about it. What does your Ammī think about it? If she has talked with Durgesh about it, we can…”
“That’s the point. Ammī is making it darkly mysterious. Well, don’t deprive her of her thrill. If Ammī tells you about it, act as if you didn’t know anything before Ammī told you it.”
“You are sure Durgesh and your Ammī were fucking when they were talking?”
“I watched them myself.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said curtly, “My Ammī was on her knees and our Durgesh darling was fucking her from her glorious behind. You say Durgesh is thirty four, why the hell then he is interested in my Ammī more than me?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me furiously.
“He loves big heavy female Musalmān buttocks filling his nude Hindu male lap when he fucks us, damn it.”
“She does not take it seriously.” I smiled.
“Me?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis more, to make me suffer from pain somewhat.
She raised her chin and laughed into my face.
“My parents think I never take anything seriously—life, liberty, or the pursuit of love. I’m the flippant younger generation. Hell, they never suspect it’s my act only. I’m immensely serious about everything.”
“And how about your Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim? How does he take it?”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis significantly.
Despite her tremendous efforts to act as if my Uncut Hindu Penis was not the first she was playing with, her inherent shyness and enormously hidden nervousness were constantly telling me I was the ever first man in her life she was enjoying even the foreplay with.
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan disapprovingly.
Why the hell Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t understand?
Her Seven Movements had upset the normal life of almost everyone, almost entire humankind.
“Oh, Abbū takes it right in his stride.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said, “He is a Thinker, carries the Multiverse on his shoulders. Despite the fact that you are the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, Abbū thinks you are Imām Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām .”
“Nonsense!”
“Well,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said innocently, “I think…”
“You don’t think, you never think.” I said coldly, “You just fix a target and conspire to achieve it.”
“My dear ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly, “it takes a deep thinking even to conspire.”
“Shame on you.”
“Let it be. I damn care.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me, entirely unashamed of herself, “You mankind think every shame is for us womankind only. I refuse to obey your ever selfish decisions. Why the hell should we womankind obey you mankind? After all we womankind are infinitely more in numbers than you mankind are. In Democracy…”
“Oh shut up,” I said, “I’m fed up of your communal philosophies. You think every Musalmān male is a terrorist or a potential terrorist at least. But the Musalmān Beauties are neither. Every Hindu male is a born democrat, and…”
“Prove me wrong.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan challenged me.*
I smiled curtly.
“As if I haven’t already every now and then.”
“Never.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said shamelessly, “You have only argued every time.”
I squeezed her buttocks.
“Sālī, ‘Ūnŧh ré ūnŧh, térī kaun sī kal sīdhī’?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan pushed my Uncut Hindu Prick into Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s heretofore virgin mouth.
I felt embarrassed.
But to my surprise, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim kissed it lovingly, licked it and then started to suck it ravenously.
“I’ll be damned.” I murmured to myself.
“Enjoying it?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Samīnah Al Qāsim impishly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim nodded, brought my Uncut Hindu Prick out of her mouth and said.
“My Ammī was not the first I saw Durgesh fucking.”
“Allah Allah! I never thought you were so veteran a voyeur.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“A virgin is a voyeur mostly.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her step Ammī cunningly.
“Ammījān, I think you are right. I was also a veteran voyeur until I seduced Durgesh.”
Both of them laughed.
“You were telling me about your Abbū.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled.
“Only occasionally can I get Abbū to set it down long enough to play with me.”
I squeezed her breasts.
“Sālī, that doesn’t answer my question.”
“You can’t call me Sālī, your sister in law. I’m your Ammī in law, your mother in law instead. Don’t forget Imām Muħammad Ħasan is still my husband.”
“Ex-husband.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
She laughed.
I watched her dubiously.
Was she still married to Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is guiding and patronizing her?
But how the hell could it be?
Imām Muħammad Ħasan still has four duly legal Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives.
Yes, he doesn’t touch them anymore.
I fuck all of them instead.
But they are still his wives legally.
Is Al Samīnah Al Qāsim playing some deep game with Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
If Al Samīnah Al Qāsim hasn’t divorced Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is his fifth legal duly married wife.
Does Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan know it?
Has she planned deliberately to exile Imām Muħammad Ħasan from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat to protect him from Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?
I was more vigilant now of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim both.*
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr smiled patronizingly.
“Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was a commando. Wasn’t he?”
“What the hell do you mean?” Muħammad bin Qāsim grimaced, “Commandos can’t be murdered?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled sophisticatedly, yet patronizingly at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“I suppose,” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “all this is just a conversational background, a barrage, a bombardment, of words. They are trying to get us to commit ourselves. Umm-al-Åālmīn, I’m quite certain either Umm-al-Åālmīn Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is playing some deeper game, or Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Umm-al-Åālmīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself has planned it. Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was her commando. It wasn’t easy to murder him.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled again.
“I’m not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Yet you are Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā herself reincarnated. Aren’t you?”
“Sure,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “nevertheless, not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“Her worst critics claim Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is following her Hindu Live in relationship partner’s every step. What Durgesh Jījū has done Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī would also do action by action. You can’t win her, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was now on her knees.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was visiting her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt now.
“Once a barrister always a barrister. Are you cross examining me now, my Hindu Love?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling watching my still growing Uncut Hindu Cock penetrating the glorious glamorous Musalmān Cunt of Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
Despite my constant efforts to avoid them, Jet Musalmān Beauties were still constantly succeeding in winning my Uncut Hindu Penis for their ever aggressive ever feminist Musalmān Cunts.
It was necessary.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was vowed to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
It was the only solution to stop the kidnapping, smuggling and selling of Musalmān Beauties.
Only Hindu husbands/Live in relationship Partners could be trusted.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both wanted to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Yet, none of them could have the courage enough to say it openly.
Not only Musalmīn, even Durgesh was against it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used it to win Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both despite my opposition.
She made it a movement.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis out of her glorious Musalmān Cunt until only its head remained inside, “what does your father, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, say about it? What are your own theories incidentally?”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim shook her head.
She waited a few minutes for me to push my Uncut Hindu Cock back into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt, but when she saw I was concentrating somewhere else instead of on fucking her optimum, she felt her extraordinary Musalmān beauty insulted.
“Hey, where the hell are you concentrating? Give me that back.”
“What?”
“Your legendary Uncut Hindu Lund. Push it back into me. Will you?”
“Oh, sorry.”
“You must be. I would never forgive you if you ever do it again. Once out, I want it into me back, immediately. Do you understand?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Does he do it with you too?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and answered my question as well, “I don’t have theories. I’m too young. Moreover, I’m a practical woman rather. I never dream of anything. I march ahead instead, and get it practically, as I’m going to do now.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim pushed her own gorgeous glorious Saåūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap and swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt deepest, “I love it deepest, my dear.”
“Abbū Imām liked your aggressive sex?” I smiled fucking her somewhat more vigorously now.
“Never. He is too a damn fool Musalmān.”
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim Ammī.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan protested disapprovingly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, my dear immensely successful daughter. I’m with you, because you are running your Seven Movements, you have vowed taking Al Qur’an Al Karim in your pious hand to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. That’s what these damn fool Musalmīn need. Replace them with Hindus for ever and forget the bastards.”
“You ever communal bitches,” I said curtly, “always thinking with your ever ravenous Musalmān Cunts instead of with your brains.”
“No Musalmān bastard is here to appreciate you.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim too smiled curtly, “I know you adopt this attitude to please your Musalmān fathers in law and your Musalmān brothers in law. They don’t have any power now. They are cuckolded to you and us, their Musalmān houseladies.”
“You are helping their enemies. Have you ever thought of it?”
“Qāzī jī dublé kyon? Shahar kā andéshah. Why the hell you always think of others, instead of yourself and us? Enjoy our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān bodies, you stupid.”*
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“You have a telephone over there in the corner. Just ring the Ved Nagar police and ask them if a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered at an early hour this morning.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr promptly crossed over to the telephone, smiled sharply and said,
“That’s a very nice bluff you’re running. We won’t let it work however. I’m going to call you cold right now. Whenever someone makes a pass at me I call him/her then and there ineludibly.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr picked up the receiver.
“I want the police station, please,”
Then, after a moment, he said,
“Can you kindly tell me whether a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered this morning somewhere near Oceanside, Ved Nagar?… Never mind who this is. I’m simply asking a question…Well, let’s put it this way. I might be a witness in case there’s anything to it…”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr held the receiver in silence for several seconds.
Amīnah Zahīr was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Prick into her teen Musalmān Cunt in the meantime, smiling smartly.
She was herself fucking me now.
I stood still there on my knees behind Amīnah Zahīr.
Entirely nude Amīnah Zahīr was herself making the back forth and again back movements ruthlessly.
When it came out to sex, Amīnah Zahīr was almost an female animal with me.
It was rare I fucked her.
Mostly Amīnah Zahīr fucked me herself.
And that even almost most savagely usually.
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr suddenly said in the mouthpiece,
“Thank you.”
Then he slammed the receiver back into place.
He turned and faced his audience.
Then he started pacing the floor.
His eyes were half slit in thoughts.
He pushed his hands down deep in the side pockets of his double breasted coat.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim were watching him patiently, yet with a smirk.
Abruptly, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr turned, standing with his back to the wall.
“All right,” he said, “I’m security in charge here. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is not a nobody. She virtually owns our Kħilāfat Movement. She is one of the most important sponsors to our cause.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled contemptuously.
“Oh sure, I happen to know all of your bloody movement. What’s it? You are fighting for establishing a Triple Society, a Threesome Society actually. Musalmān wife, Hindu lover and thoroughly Cuckold Musalmān husband. Shame on you. You call it a Kħilāfat Movement? I’m surprised. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is one of your most important sponsors, not because she and the other similar sponsors are sympathetic to you. They want you cuckolded. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is running Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Movement. Your Triple Society is helping her cause. Jījū is against it because Jījū is against the humiliation of any human being whosoever the hell s/he is. Why the hell don’t you understand? Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is revenging what you Pseudo Musalmīn have done with Musalmān womankind. That’s why her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, is against her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah despite his exile from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr raised his right hand.
“I know you want to argue against our Kħilāfat Movement and even Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah as well. Imām Muħammad Ħasan has invited us to a Grand Meeting on the ‘Yacht’ of your Jījū. We have accepted the invitation. It’s not the proper place to discuss these utmost important political crises.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at me helplessly.
I smiled.
“Your Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is destroying the Musalmīn completely, either under this disguise or that. She is taking advantage of each and every superstition of Pseudo Musalmīn. I’d told you, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, already.”*
Chapter 52
————————————————
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 17
Posted: April 15, 2012 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Jet Musalmān Beauties, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī 2 CommentsKħātūn-e-Jannat
Chapter 17
Durgesh Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī
I smiled to myself.
Eīshān, I’m acting like a kid on my first date, I thought as I put the bottle of Chardonnay on the table.
I hope that Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī likes it.
She’s been away at University for six whole months now.
I wonder if she has changed.
Too bad, Waħdat couldn’t be home, too, but her career always came first with her.
Just like tonight, she was in Atlanta attending a Real Estate conference.
It seemed like there was a conference of some kind every other week.
And she could easily have skipped this one because she had attended one on the same subject only a couple of months earlier.
Sometimes it seemed like I was just a necessary accouterment to make it look like she had the perfect family.
She put up the façade of having the perfect Live in Relationship, with two perfect children and a loving Hindu husband.
But I knew the real story.
SI treated him like a piece of furniture that she could move around anywhere to suit her purpose.
And their sex life was the same with her giving in once or so a month.
But even then it was a perfunctory offering to keep him from complaining all the time.
Sometimes he felt like chunking it and moving on, but there was still Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī and Mr’tyunjaý Joshī.
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī was away at University in her freshman year and Mr’tyunjaý Joshī was a senior in high school.
Well, as soon as they both were truly up and out on their own, then, then I would think about it.
Maybe I would confront Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and sort things out.
See if there was anything salvageable in our Live in Relationship.
But not now.
Tonight Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī was home from University and I was going to wine and dine her and treat her like an adult.
Not the little girl I had sent off to University six months ago.
Steaks, wine, and maybe a night club afterwards.
After all, she was nineteen now.
Wondering just how much Ħabīb Qurayshī’s little girl had changed in the six, short months I heard the front door opening.
She’s here.
My sweet, little Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī is here, I told myself as I hurried into the living room.
Eīshān, I thought to myself as I saw WaħdatĦabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter step into the room.
She was so beautiful.
A Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Sex goddess.
The most beautiful girl in the world.
No, not any more.
She was now the most beautiful woman in the world as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī seemed to have blossomed into maturity during the six, short months she had been away.
“Are you okay, Durgesh,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled at me, “you look funny.”
“Oh, my, my, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī,” I burbled out, as my knees threatened me to grow weak and I felt lightheaded. “Oh, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī, you’re, you’re so beautiful, darling.”
“Oh, Durgesh,” she giggled, reaching out and wrapping her arms around me. “You always did know how to make me feel so good.”
I wrapped my arms around her and we stood there in the middle of the room hugging as if it had been years since we had seen each other.
Then, after a few moments, I suddenly became aware of WaħdatĦabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter’s big, warm Musalmān breasts pressed against my Hindu chest.
I didn’t remember her being so well endowed, but then, I had never really paid much attention to Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter’s physical attributes before.
After all, she was Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter and fathers didn’t think about their daughters in that way.
But, now, it was somehow different.
And if I was any judge of women’s apparel, I would swear that Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter wasn’t wearing a brassiere.
It felt like the only thing covering her big, warm Musalmān breasts was the soft, knit sweater she was wearing.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I slowly backed away from her, holding onto her arms, I ran my up and down her body.
“My, my, my,” I murmured.
She had her hair pulled up in some kind of turbanish hairdo that made her look older, but to me Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī still looked only thirteen or fourteen with her beautiful, elfish face.
Her big, brown eyes stared back at me innocently, but her full, red lips belied that sweet innocence.
And the opulent swell of her big, warm Musalmān breasts underneath the thin knit sweater acclaimed her newfound maturity, as did the curving sweep of her hips underneath the thin, short skirt she wore.
Finally, I let go of her and stepped back.
“You’re beautiful, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī,” I swooned.
“Durgesh,” she purred, seductively batting her big, brown eyes, “You always did know how to make me feel all grown up.”
“Well, you are all grown up now. Look at you,” I smiled back at her.
Looking into her face, I didn’t see the nineteen-year old girl I had sent off to University, instead, I saw an expectant fourteen year-old just back from her first prom, her face beaming with happiness and anticipation.
Her whole face was lit up with the smile that beamed back at me.
Suddenly, I felt my heart fluttering with an unusual excitement.
“Goodness, Durgesh,” she laughed softly, “you look like you’ve never seen me before.”
“My, Dear, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī,” I groaned, trying to curb the strange feeling that had come over me. “I haven’t seen you before. Not like this. Not the way you look tonight.”
“What? Whatever do you mean?” she modestly asked me, standing up straighter and thrusting her big, warm Musalmān breasts out ever so slightly as a faint blush spread out across her chubby Musalmān cheeks.
“I mean,” I grunted, not able to keep from running my eyes up and down her body for a second brief instant, “I mean, you’re all grown up. You’re a Musalmān Beauty now.”
“You really think so?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī grinned, stepping around me.
Laughing softly under her breath, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī let the soft roundness of her big, warm Musalmān breasts graze my arm as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī did.
I couldn’t tell if it had been a purposeful move on her part or just an accident fueled by my overactive imagination.
“Yes, I do,” I laughed aggressively, yet suddenly cautious of being alone with the exceptionally beautiful creature that was walking across the room sensually swishing her gorgeous excellent exquisite glamorous firm round extremely enticing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks from side to side.
Damn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
They had absolutely destroyed my normal sophisticated feelings to the just eighteen Musalmān Beauties.
I’ve fucked them now in such a large number, and in such a large number they are themselves still fucking me that now I was absolutely incapable to find them attractive and not to think of sex with them.
It was just a second nature to me now.
I couldn’t even imagine now there could be anything unjust or abnormal in it.
How the experiences change humankind radically.
“Where’s Ammījān?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī asked nonchalantly, casually, looking back at me over her shoulder as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī set her purse down on the table and turned around to face me.
“Away at another conference,” I said, strolling over to the table, trying not to let my disapproval of Waħdat’s absence show. “Atlanta, this time. Remember, I told you when you called last week.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right, I must have forgotten,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled virtuously. “I see nothing has changed.”
“I’m sorry, not,” I smiled. “Just more of the same.”
“Well, don’t you worry, Durgesh, my dear Live in Relationship Partner of my Ammījān, and Not, Certainly Not my Abbū.” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī laughed softly. “Now little Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī is here to take care of her Hindu boyfriend Durgesh.”
“Nonsense.” I scolded her, “you haven’t changed too. Now you are grown up, darling. You must understand these words have another meaning. And yet it’s about time. I really missed not having your smiling outstandingly beautiful face around,” I said.
“And where’s Mr’tyunjaý Joshī, my younger stepbrother? Ammījān hated you once so much that she left Abbū, not for you, instead for Pralayankar Joshi, your Maharashtrian Brāhmañ sālā, brother in law, and now father of Mr’tyunjaý Joshī, my younger stepbrother.” she nonchalantly asked.
I laughed.
“Even she couldn’t anticipate that it could bring her closer to you and she would really fall for you head long foot.” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled ironically.
“It happens sometimes, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī.” I smiled, “However, your memory must be going, because I told you that Mr’tyunjaý Joshī was away at camp for another week,” I said, aggressively fidgeting with the tableware, somehow feeling strangely self-conscious that Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī and I were all alone in the house.
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī could start something sexual.
She never accepted me her stepfather.
“Ammījān is changing Live in Relationship Partners as if she is changing her dress.” She had commented furiously.
“You’re right. I must be getting old to be so forgetful,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled with childlike innocence as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī seemed to be reading my mind. “So it’s just the two of us here all alone.”
“I’m sorry so,” I told her, “but I’ll try not to be a fuddy-duddy, stick-in-the-mud.”
“Oh, Durgesh, you’re not a stick-in-the-mud. Why, at University, I bragged all the time about what a great male companion to a girl you were,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī laughed. “And I’m certain that we’ll have a good time because I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that we do.”
“Okay,” I laughed back at her, a little uncertain of what she meant. “How do steak, salad, a potato, and wine sound? Followed by a night out on the town with your dear old Durgesh.”
“The dinner sounds great, but,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī paused, running the pink tip of her tiny tongue over her full, red lips, “I think I’d like to pass on the night out on the town and spend it at home with you. Okay? I’ve never had you all alone like this.”
“Great,” I beamed, stumped by her choice to spend the night at home with me instead of out dancing, “I’ll just get the cook steaks going then.”
She had never shown any interest in spending time with me alone before, I thought.
But maybe being away at University had changed her somehow. Whatever, it was pleasant to find that Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter now valued my company. And I wasn’t going to rock the boat.
“Do you have anything stronger than wine?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī asked me, sauntering over to the bar.
“But, of course,” I smiled, “and since you’re all grown up now, you can help yourself.”
“I will,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said.
To me, her voice sounded like the tinkling of a precious, silver bell.
I didn’t wait to see what Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī chose as I hurried out to the grill.
Then, in a couple of minutes, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī came wandering out onto the patio with two glasses in her hands.
“Whisky and coke okay, and juice for you?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī asked me offering me my juice.
“Sure,” I said, taking the drink from her.
“Here’s to a lovely evening,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī tittered, clinking her glass against mine and then taking a dainty sip of her drink.
“Here, here,” I said taking a healthy swig off my juice.
Time seemed to flow and before I knew it, dinner was over, the table was cleared and the dishes were packed away in the dishwasher.
“Thank you for a superb dinner,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī stepped up to me and put her arms around my neck. “I haven’t felt this happy in a long, long time.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I smiled hugging her and feeling the warm glow of her gorgeous glamorous excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body against mine, through the thin layers of our clothing. “But you make me feel both happy and sad at the same time.”
“What do you mean?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī asked me disentangling herself from my arms and taking a couple of baby steps back away from me. “Why do you feel sad?”
“It’s just that I sent my little baby away to University,” I said, my eyes filling with tears as I tried to hold them back, “and Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī comes back home all grown up. I miss my little Baby.”
“Don’t you like me, anymore?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī pouted, pushing out her lower lip and looking up at me with her big, brown eyes.
“Of course, I do,” I laughed softly, reaching out and running my hand down over her softly-sloped shoulder. “But it is just different. I can’t explain it. Of, course, I still love you, but you’re not my little baby any more. That’s all.”
“I think I understand, but I’ll always be your little baby,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said, turning slightly, so that my hand brushed against the soft swells of her young adult breast.
“Uh, uh, well, ” I smiled, sophisticatedly pulling my hand back away from her breast as if I had just touched a live wire.
Smiling mischievously, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī picked up her drink, and took another lady-like sip.
Her mischievous smile was a warning to me that she was again on her old mission to express to me deliberately that I wasn’t her father neither I ever could be.
One more Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Hating her Ammī?
Loving her real Abbū?
Eīshān, how many Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasans there would be in my life?
Yes, I haven’t any X chromosome in my system, but can’t I even have a single nominated daughter?
Why can’t I have a platonic relationship with even a single female in the Multiverse except with my own Ammī Ħuzūr?
“Is my room still the same?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī asked me, turning and stepping toward the stairway leading to the upstairs bedrooms, “or did Ammījān turn it into a sewing room like she was always threatening to do?”
“No, it’s the same way you left it,” I laughed as I watched her stroll toward the stairs, “except that it’s clean.”
“Funny, funny,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smirked, crinkling up her nose and smiling at me over her shoulder.
“Your Ammījān is too busy with Real Estate to have time to do any sewing,” I sarcastically said, following Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī to the stairs.
“I know,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said.
“You want to see it?”
“See what?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī snickered, stopping on the bottom step and looking at me impishly.
“See your room, of course,” I smiled, stopping several feet from her. “What did you think I meant?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī laughed out loud, seemingly amused at my somewhat discomfort, as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī started up the stairs.
Cautious by Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter’s curious behavior, I followed the sway of Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter’s youthfully round hips with my eyes as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī climbed the stairs.
“Aren’t you coming?” she wanted to know as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī paused on the landing waiting for me.
“Sure, why not?” I smiled, clutching the railing as I climbed the stairs.
It was almost as if she were luring me down to her bedroom, I thought as I neared the top of the stairs.
As if she had something else in mind.
Something other than a visit to her old bedroom to reminisce about the old days.
“I can’t believe this,” she giggled, taking my hand and tugging me down toward her bedroom. “Just think. Six months ago I was a little high-school girl getting ready to leave for University. And now, now I’m back. I’m back and I’ve learned so much. I feel so, so grown up.”
“Well, what have you learned?” I asked her as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī pushed the door open and stepped into her room, pulling me with her.
“Oh, it’s just the same as it was when I left,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī laughed softly. “Nothing has changed.”
“Maybe your room didn’t change,” I said solemnly, “but you certainly have. And what was it you learned at University?”
“I’ve learned all kinds of things,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī bubbled, letting go of my hand and pirouetting around the room like a ballet dancer.
“Oh?” I grinned.
“Yeah, I learned more than book stuff. I learned just how much I missed you. Durgesh, my dear Live in Relationship Partner of my Ammījān, and Not, Certainly Not my Abbū, I missed you so much and it made me so home-sick I cried,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said, spinning around, making her short skirt flair out, revealing even more of her long, luscious legs.
“Missed me?” I asked. “You never said anything. You never missed me before. And you never let on that you were going to miss me after you left. What happened to change all that?”
“It was just so lonely there,” she went on breathlessly as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī finally stopped twirling. “I was lonely and I was afraid to, afraid to have anything to do with boys because, because, well you know.”
“Know what?” I wanted to know, not sure I was following the drift of her story but I couldn’t help but watch her big, warm Musalmān breasts heaving underneath the thin sweater while Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī tried to catch her breath. “As pretty as you are, you should have had to fight the boys off.”
“I, I, well, it was just about like that,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said, plopping down on her bed and dropping her hands back and leaning back on her arms as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī talked. “But they were, they were boys. Not a man like, like you. No intelligent girl nowadays is interested anymore in foolish childish young, just adult, boys. We intelligent Beauties now love to have experienced boyfriend as you are.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?” I smiled.
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī was all alert now.
“Dangerous? Nonsense. How?”
“We experienced men may not understand your raw physical needs as our needs are already fulfilled.”
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī laughed.
“You lack feminine viewpoint fundamentally.”
“What do you mean?”
“My girlfriends are right. You are so absolute, so absolute, a man that you lack the practical feminine viewpoint absolutely.”
“Nonsense.”
“You feel insulated? But I think I’m praising you.”
“Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī.”
“We, womankind, my dear, don’t need femininity in our male companion. We need them males the more they could be.”
“You are right, but―”
“If I’m right, there isn’t any space for any damn ‘but’. We intelligent girls now no more interested in foolish young male children. We want intelligent most experienced male companion who can take care of us both as our husband and as our guardian too.”
“Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī, you mean―”
“Yes. We want matured lover. Not male children. In living together at least one of us must be experienced to know the life game how to play. Shouldn’t one of the two be?”
“You must be crazy.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī.”
“Neither any of my girlfriends do.” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled cunningly.
“I can’t believe it.”
“Neither Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, us Jet Musalmān Beauties nor our Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad do the idiosyncrasy.”*
We didn’t care about anything else, really.
All we cared about was one thing.
It was obvious what we wanted and I didn’t want it like that.”
” I certainly must appreciate all of you.” I smiled at her sarcastically.
What was Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī trying to tell me?
And what did she mean that the biys weren’t likeme? I was Not confused.
I clearly understood what she was leading me to.
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī was playing a game with me I was the master of.
No, my little baby was not back.
It was a young Musalmān woman, quite adult, quite smart, quite feminist and not, certainly not, devoted to me anymore as my little girl was.
“They didn’t care about me,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said again. “All they wanted was one thing. And they didn’t care how or where they got it. There wasn’t any feeling and I didn’t want it that way. Especially, especially for my first time. I wanted it to be special. Can’t you understand that?”
“What? Do you mean you’re still a virgin, in these days of pseudo women liberation?” I incredulously asked gravely.
There was a genuine praise for her in my voice, a genuine appreciation.
So she wasn’t such a fool as the most of the just adult young women today?
That’s very good.
The Western Business Culture was so rotten that it had deliberately rotted almost everything moral in the present day society.
It never encouraged the virtuous persons who tried to fight with the uncontrolled feminism when it raised its dirty head in the then Western society.
Immoral selfish business persons deliberately supported the most immoral horniest womankind that fought to promote immortalities in the name of feminism.
The moral women were deliberately ridiculed when they tried to fight with the then immoral womankind enjoying the unlimited money and support of the then immoral grossly selfish business persons.
They used them as shameless models to advertise their products and to boost their business.
“Can’t you believe that?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī fussed. “Why can’t you believe that I, I’m a virgin?”
“I just never thought, my dear. I’m sorry. I couldn’t separate you from the imprudent mob found everywhere nowadays.” I smiled at her with great appreciation. “You, you were always so popular and all the guys wanted to date you. I just assumed, oh, I’m sorry. I should’ve cared enough to find out, I guess.”
“Oh, it’s not your fault,” she too smiled now . “I should have told you. But I was so miserable, I didn’t know what to do so I just decided to come home and see you. I knew that I could count on you. You were always there for me when I needed you.”
“I tried to be,” I said, trying to sort through where she was heading.
“I know,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled softly. “You were always the one I came to when I needed anything. You always had the answer. You were always so wise. And even when you knew I was wrong, you would always be there to comfort me in the end. You were always there to teach me how it should be. To show me the right way.”
“That’s what fathers are for, dear,” I smiled, my heart swelling with pride. “I just hope that I can always be there for you. Wherever and whenever you need me.”
“That’s why I came home to you,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said, her voice so confident now that I again became cautious immensely.
“What’s wrong there, darling? What can I do for you?” I asked her, not even a bit confused by the erratic wanderings of her conversation.
“I want, I want you, you to be the one,” she smiled.
“The one? What do you mean?” I asked, understanding quite thoroughly what she might mean, yet playing innocent.
“I want you to be the one to, to, well, you know,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled confidently.
“You want, want me to be the one, the one to what?” I asked her as warning signals began to flash inside my head.
Could it be?
Could she want me to do what I was always trying to avoid since Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan came in my life?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not simply one stepdaughter of mine that turned to be my Live in Relationship Partner.
She was infinite in one.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan started it as a movement among my other extremely beautiful Musalmān stepdaughters.
Hinduism didn’t encourage it ever, yet due to its particular nature it was not even against it if the Vr’tr stepdaughters coming from darkness with their Vr’tr mothers, wanted to maintain their own Live in Relationship with their now Hindu stepfather.
They were not responsible if their mothers found the same man suitable for them they also found.
In a society strictly following the rules of Kr’ñvanto Vishvamāryam, Imām nārīm sukr’té dadhāt, and ‘Indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat’, no one could guarantee availability of sukr’ts in such a large number available to maintain exogamy for such so called ‘stepdaughters’ always.
My heart was pounding and my head was spinning as I contemplated the possibility of her request.
This was too much to comprehend.
I must be wrong.
How could I even contemplate such a thing?
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī could never even consider what I was over cautiously thinking.
It had to be a figment of my own over cautious, over alert psyche, because she would never insist such a thing.
“I want, I want you to be the first, first one,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said, slowly standing up and turning to face away from me. “I want you to be my first and certainly the last lover. I’m a One Man Woman and so I want to remain forever.”
I couldn’t believe my ears as I watched Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter standing by her bed with her back to me as she was doing something to the front of her sweater with her hands.
Suddenly, her skirt went slithering down her long, beautiful legs and puddled around her high heels Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī stood before me naked from the waist down except for a pair of whimsical green panties that barely hid any of her perfect round Musalmān ass from my grave eyes.
“Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī,” I said, trying to catch my breath as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī slowly turned around to look at me. “What are you doing?”
Yet, I was unable to stop the spasm of electric excitement that fired off down inside my Uncut Hindu Cock.
I couldn’t be impotent not to react to her activities even.
And why should I be after all?
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī was not actually my daughter; neither had she ever accepted any such platonic relationship with me.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī asked me, holding one arm under her beautiful, bare big, warm Musalmān breasts and raising her other arm up to clutch hold of her turbaned hair.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā,” I groaned unable to keep my eyes off her spectacular big, warm Musalmān breasts.
They were the most beautiful big, warm Musalmān breasts I had ever seen.
I couldn’t keep from gawking at them.
And why the hell should I keep from gawking at them?
To hell with the all impractical morals and ethics.
The most beautiful big warm Musalmān breasts of Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī were stunning.
Big, round as saucers, tanned to bronzed perfection, so heavy yet still erect, and yet still proudly swelled out in youthful Musalmān exuberance.
They were masterpieces.
Remarkable works of art that I marveled at them.
They were treasures of perfection with flawlessly round areolas of delicately pebbled flesh tipping each of the wondrous mountains of flesh.
And the hard, little nipples were sticking out in obvious excitement as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī let me feast my eyes on her bare big, warm Musalmān breasts.
“I want my lover to be someone that actually loves me,” she whimpered, holding her arm underneath her heavy, pendulous big, warm Musalmān breasts, cupping one of the heavy udders in her hand and lifting it. “Someone who loves me and someone who won’t hurt me. You’re the only man that I trust to be loving and tender. Can’t I?”
“Oh, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī , I would, I would, Darling, but I could never,” I muttered, finally able to tear my eyes off her big, warm Musalmān breasts but couldn’t keep them from running down over the perfection of her nubile, young perfectly adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
As my eyes flitted across her flat tummy, her sexy, little belly button accusingly stared back at me, seemingly like it was trying to remind me who she was.
Ignoring its warning, I explored the forbidden sanctity of her down-covered secret hidden underneath the sheer, white whimesy of her sexy panties.
“But I want you, I want you to be the one, Durgesh,” she murmured giving me the look she had always used on me to get her way back when she was still a child.
“Alright if you say so, but I could never do that to you, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī,” I said gravely, no harm in arguments if she changes her mind. “You have no right to ask me to sacrifice our love that way. I’m your father, even if a stepfather. You can’t ask me to break the sacred covenant we share as a father and daughter. It would be so, so wrong.
“But, but I want the first time to be loving and soft and gentle and tender,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī implored holding one arm above her head and digging her hand down into the soft swirl of her brown hair. “I can’t expect to have it that way with anyone else. Not with anyone else, but you. You, because you love me as much as I love you. And you would never do anything to hurt me.”
“But, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī, you’ll find someone,” I tried futilely. “Believe me, some wonderful boy will come along and you’ll fall head over heels with him and it will be that way. The way you want it to be.”
Her long, brown hair came tumbling down like golden mahogany as she openly returned my look.
To me, she was the most exquisite creature on the face of the earth, but what she was asking of me was so unlikely, it could only bring us both to the brink of madness.
“But, I don’t want a boy, Durgesh,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī declared. “I want a man. I want you, Durgesh, no one else. After all it’s a question of my entire life itself. How can you expect me to take any risk in such a delicate matter?”
“Eīshān, Oh, God, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī ,” I groaned, feeling an erotic sensation of desire fire off inside my Uncut Hindu Cock as it rapidly began to swell and grow inside my pants. “We, we couldn’t. It would be so, so wrong.”
“I don’t think so. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t think so. The Jet Musalmān Beauties don’t think so. Our entire Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad doesn’t think so.” she whined. “We could do it legally and I would know what, what real love was supposed to be like. Why can’t we do it? Do this for me and I’ll never ask you for anything else again. I promise.”
“It’s not natural,” I said somewhat curtly, “not normal for a man to make love to his own stepdaughter. It’s against everything good and right. It’s against the laws of nature.”
“I don’t agree with you. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t agree with you. Jet Musalmān Beauties don’t agree with you. Even our entire Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad doesn’t agree with you.” she too said curtly, turning and crawling up on her bed. “I’ve dreamt of being your wife. Since you are already married accept me as your new Live in Relationship Partner and oblige me, please. Okay, I agree. Don’t announce it now. Announce it after you get comfortable with me. It can be our secret. Our secret of our love for each other.”
I watched on in irritation as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī stood on her hands and knees with her exquisite tits slowly swinging from side to side, gently bumping against each other as I openly gawked at them.
As I did she gave me a sultry, sweltering look that made me to make my knees stronger.
I could feel the strength flowing through my body as I fought to keep my irritation under control.
No matter how fervently I professed my own morality, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her gorgeous big, warm Musalmān breasts as they peeked out from underneath her arms.
She had such a beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī excellent exquisite Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
If she were any other girl, any other Musalmān Beauty but my own stepdaughter, I would kill to make love to her, but she was my own stepdaughter.
My own stepdaughter.
There must be an end to it somewhere.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan can’t make everyone of my stepdaughters my Live in Relationship Partner.
Would I fuck only just eighteens now?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is deliberately doing it.
How could I do such a thing to a precious child like her?
How could I desecrate such a beautiful and delicate chalice?
Yet, I could feel my Hindu manhood rebelling against my professed morality as it unfurled inside my shorts.
It was already painfully swollen and throbbing with impatience as I fought against its erotic power.
But I could feel my own self-control waning as I stared at Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter.
She was so beautiful, I knew that I could only hold off the erotic craving inside me for so long before it overwhelmed me and made me do the horrible thing she wanted.
“Please. Please, Durgesh,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī begged me ripping off her sweater and tossing it on the floor. “Durgesh, I’m begging you. Please make love to me. Accept my fundamental human right to choose my life companion myself.”
“But, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī, we can’t, you should understand.” I whined feeling the last vestiges of control slipping from my grip as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī leaned forward toward me openly flaunting the wonders of her gorgeous big, warm Musalmān breasts.
As we stared into each other’s eyes, I saw her eyes slowly drift downward.
Down to the painfully obvious lump sticking out in the front of my pants.
“I can tell that you want me,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said, gazing at the conspicuous bulge of my Uncut Hindu Cock that was jutting out against the thin material of my pants. “You want me as bad as I want you. I can tell. I can see that your thing is hard and ready. It’s hard and ready for you to make love to me. Please. Please, make love to me with it.”
The sheer eroticness of her words stunned me.
They were so depraved; it pushed me over the edge.
Now I had to have her.
Nothing could stop me now.
I would have her.
Make love to her and gratify the need Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī felt between her legs.
I would fuck her like any just eighteen would never be fucked again.
I would make wild, passionate love to her all night and all day until I had nothing left to give her.
Intuitively, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī seemed to sense my surrender as a jubilant smile lit up her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
“Yes,” she hissed as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī reached out for me. “Yes. I want you so much.”
I groaned, ripping at my shirt, popping buttons and tearing material as I tore it off.
“Thank you Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī cooed, watching me flounder about trying to get my clothes off. “It will be equal to an eternity in heaven to feel your Uncut Hindu Cock inside me.”
“Eīshān, Oh, God, how much you Musalmān Beauties love my Uncut Hindu Lund in your Musalmān Cunts. I’m honoured my darling. I’d fuck you till you exist if you want it.” I smiled as I was finally able to disentangle myself from my pants and kick them across the room.
“Oh, Durgesh, thank you. Thank you very much for allowing me on your bed forever. I want you to fuck me forever. I love you, méré Hindu Piyā.” she gurgled, seemingly surprised as my nine-inch prick, ripe and ready to do battle sprang out into the open. “Oh, Durgesh, it’s so big.”
“We can stop right now,” I grunted, kicking my shoes off and fumbling to shuck my socks off. “We don’t have to do this.”
“But I want to,” she whimpered soulfully. “I want you to make love to me. I just didn’t know, think, think that it would be so big.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Baby,” I muttered, standing back up with my erotic benevolence jutting out in front of me.
I was completely naked now.
The only thing standing between me and the precious treasure awaiting me between Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī’s long, beautiful legs were her whimsical, little panties.
Proudly, I just stood there staring down at her as my giant Uncut Hindu Prick jutted out, superbly twitching up and down with every beat of my Hindu heart.
“If it’s too big,” I said softly, “we don’t have to do it. We, we can do other things. We don’t have to do that part of it.”
“But, I want to. I want you to, to make love to me,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī complained, slowly rolling over onto her back and digging her thumbs under the stretchy waistband of her tiny, green panties.
Lifting her legs, bend them, she quickly pushed the panties down and off.
Then with a soft giggle, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī tossed them at me and slowly spread her long, lovely legs apart.
“I want you to fuck me. Fuck me with your big, handsome Uncut Hindu Cock,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī cooed.
“Eīshān, God on high—” I smiled as I stared down at the slowly-unfurling beauty of the forbidden secrecy that lay between her legs.
“That is why,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī said softly, reaching down and gently fingering the delicate, pink-petaled flower open, “why I wanted it to be you, Durgesh. I know you will be gentle with me.”
“Oh, my beautiful Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī,” I smiled, advancing toward the bed where Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī lay waiting for me.
“Oh, Durgesh,” she gushed, reaching for me as I crawled onto the bed.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was so hard, I felt like its head would split open at any second.
I had never been so hard and ready before recently.
I couldn’t believe what was happening.
It had to be a dream.
Or was it a nightmare, I asked myself?
A nightmare and I would wake up any second.
Wake up before I could consummate the ashvinātam union with Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter.
My heart was pounding, my head was spinning and my whole Hindu body was quivering with ashvinātam expectation as I floundered up between Waħdat Ħabīb Qurayshī and Ħabīb Muħammad Qurayshī’s daughter’s beautiful, outstretched young adult Musalmān legs.
Standing on my hands and knees above her, I was in a daze of disbelief as I stared down at her with erotic anticipation.
She was a sorceress.
A gorgeous, seductive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān sorceress spinning her ashvinātam spell on me.
A spell that would take both of us to eternity in her everlasting Jannat-e-Firdaus.
There was no turning back now.
Neither anyone of us wanted to now.
I had to feel my Uncut Hindu Cock inside her.
Inside the burning secret that lay between her beautiful Musalmān legs.
“Durgesh, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī whimpered, looking up at me with her big, brown eyes filled with love, the beginnings of tears and just a hint of fright.
“Yes, yes, what, Dear?” I breathlessly asked as I readied myself to mount her.
“Can I, can I touch, can I touch it first?” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī whimpered, running her hand down my stomach to where the impatient Hindu monster ticked up and down excitedly. “Can I touch it and kiss, kiss it first?”
“Oh, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī,” I smiled as my Uncut Hindu Cock lurched up and down wildly. “Oh, Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī, you, you want to, to do, do that now?”
“Yes, yes, Durgesh,” she gurgled, wrapping her hot, little hand around my massive Uncut Hindu Cock and gently tugging on it. “I want to, I want to touch it and kiss it and, and suck it. I want to taste it with my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth, before, before I taste it with my, my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot is one of those ever luckiest my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choots that enjoy your unique legendary Supreme Experienced Uncut Hindu Lund every Musalmān Beauty dreams of.”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā,” I growled, straddling her and slowly crawling up until my monstrous Uncut Hindu Prick bobbed up and down above her soft, red lips.
“Durgesh, Durgesh, it’s so, so big, big and handsome,” Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī cooed as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī stared up at the gigantic slab of rock-hard Uncut Hindu Cock eroticly dancing above her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
I felt like my heart was going to explode any second as I watched on in stunned silence as Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī flicked out her soft, pink Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tongue and slowly ran it up the entire length of my swollen Uncut Hindu Prick.
My Uncut Hindu Cock felt like it was about to burst as I felt the soft tickle of her pink Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tongue skimming over the sensitive skin of my Uncut Hindu Cock, lapping its way up and down my Uncut Hindu Cock.
Being tongue-whipped by any Musalmān Beauty was a delightful experience, but when the Musalmān Beauty was just eighteen, it was ecstasy.
Kħālidah Ħabīb Qurayshī smiled triumphantly.
Ultimately she had succeeded in her mission.
Where there is a will there is a way, of course.
She hadn’t disclosed she was the Commander of the just eighteen Musalmān Beauties in Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
It wasn’t needed.
Long live Kħātūn-e-Jannat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She had promised her the Presidency of just eighteen Musalmān Beauties in Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh too.
The only condition was she had to be my Live in Relationship Partner forever successfully despite my every effort not to let her.
The secret climate of Ummat-e-Muslimah, held as private as any Masonic rite, for most of its Just eighteen young adult Musalmān Beauties, one of empty monotony, boredom, confusion.
Most of them had to fight with their extremely backward Musalmān guardians even to get educated.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had especially prepared a squad of Just eighteen young adult Musalmān Beauties themselves within her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad to help such unfortunate Musalmān Beauties in getting as much and as high education as their brains could afford even with efforts if necessary.
They deliberately used to make friends with such potential Just eighteen young adult Musalmān Beauties.
Then with the help of other Jet Musalmān Beauties they helped their new Just eighteen young adult Musalmān Beauties friends in solving their educational problems with priority.
“The Musalmīn male scoundrels are organized under the disguise of Pseudo Islam.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say, “To defeat the Pseudo Musalmīn tyrants we need our own organization. But an organization of damn fools is as worthless as there is no organization at all. So get proper education first before being organized. An organization of foolish women can’t fight successfully with the ever tyrant religiously organized tyrant Pseudo Musalmīn. Get highly educated Musalmān Beauties organized therefore and then fight with the ever enemies of the entire womankind, Pseudo Musalmīn, until they are defeated forever.”
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Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh 