Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind–2

Nādirā Kaif was looking for ward to a restful weekend but a wire announcing that Kħadeejah Muħammad was due to arrive from Saůūdī Arab on day after tomorrow morning.

It necessitated a lot of last minute statements and reports.

Nādirā Kaif had been unable to get them together by quitting time Friday night.

So, she had promised Deepak Khandelwal that she would come in Saturday morning, finish computer feeding of the reports and have everything on a DVD, so that it can be transferred to his laptop the first thing Monday morning.

The situation was further complicated by the fact that the Diamond Mining, Smelting & Investment Company, Nādirā Kaif was working for, was not actually singularly owned by Kħadeejah Muħammad only.

It was a part of HVS GROUP OF COMPANIES.

Kħadeejah Muħammad was its Managing Director only, not the Owner.

HVS GROUP OF COMPANIES was owned by Hindu Vishv Sansthān.

And, the Life Time Chairman of Hindu Vishv Sansthān was Durgesh himself.

Nādirā Kaif was proud of sleeping with Durgesh, yet she knew, she was deceiving Durgesh.

She was so exactly identical to her twin sister, Katrina Kaif, that she deceived Durgesh, claiming she is Katrina Kaif, herself.

By ten thirty, when Nādirā Kaif was well immersed in her work, she heard the patter of running feet, then the sound of knuckles on the door and a childish treble saying,

“Nādirā auntie― Nādirā auntie!”

For a moment, Nādirā Kaif’s face softened.

Then she frowned with annoyance.

“Kush Khandelwal, Deepak Khandelwal’s seven year old son from his extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, worshipped the ground, Nādirā Kaif walked on.

It was Deepak Khandelwal’s plan to take her onto his bed, she knew.

Socialist People’s Libyan Arab Great Jamahiriya

الجماهيرية العربية الليبية الشعبية الاشتراكية العظمى
Al-Jamāhīriyyah al-ʿArabiyyah al-Lībiyyah aš-Šaʿbiyyah al-Ištirākiyyah al-ʿUẓmā

Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain had her approach to the Secretary General of the General People’s Congress, Miftah Muħammad Ke’ba.

Deepak Khandelwal was afraid of his wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, already therefore.

Nādirā Kaif, in turn, was strangely drawn to the youngster, Kush Khandelwal.

So, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, was always kind to Nādirā Kaif.

She was, herself, not more interested in her husband, Deepak Khandelwal.

She was interested now in winning my heart itself.

“I was a fool to marry a Manager of a Company.” Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, had said once to her, “Nādirā dear, I could have won Durgesh’s heart myself.”

“Ħabībah!” Nādirā Kaif had stiffened.

“My playboy Hindu husband has a new girl friend, Sidrah Aħmad.”

“Allah!” Nādirā Kaif said under her breath, “Not once again.”

“She lives in Mumbai.”

“How do you know?”

“I have my own information sources.”

“Allah! Allah!” Nādirā Kaif said.

“Let your boss, Deepak Khandelwal fuck Sidrah Aħmad. I’ll fuck the great Freelance Writer and Barrister, Durgesh himself.”

Nādirā Kaif had looked at Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain with startled eyes.

The girl, playing with my Hindu Penis, in the courtroom, had spread her beautiful Muslim eyes wide now.

“Durgesh, your Hindu penis is increasing in length and thickness, both.”

I smiled.

“So?”

“And―and in strength too.”

“Enjoying?”

“It’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?”

“I’ve not seen any penis increasing in such a way. It’s―it’s miraculous. It’s wonderful. It’s surprising.”

Suddenly a man, sitting beside her, addressed her,

“Sidrah―Sidrah darling!”

I smiled at him.

“Do you know her?”

“More than herself.”

Sidrah laughed,

“Please, meet my husband, Durgesh darling! Barrister Åbbās Aħmad. Public Prosecutor, Mumbai.”

I whistled almost.

“I’m glad to meet you, Aħmad Sāħab!”

Public Prosecutor, Mumbai, Åbbās Aħmad; smiled.

“You are not glad to meet me. You are glad to meet my wife, Sidrah Aħmad.”

I smiled back at him and bent down on Sidrah.

She lifted her wonderful Muslim mouth expectantly.

I looked around us.

We were in the last line of chairs, in the courtroom.

Sidrah was between her husband, Åbbās Aħmad, and me.

Every one was looking at Hudā and the witness, Imāmzādī Almās Kaif.

There were only two men in the last line of chairs.

Public Prosecutor Åbbās Aħmad, Sidrah’s husband; and me.

Only― Sidrah’s husband and me.

All the rest were beautiful young Muslim women, bearing burqās.

Astonishing!

Every one of them was bearing burqā.

And it was not Pakistan.

It was India.

I knew I was quite safe in kissing Sidrah Aħmad, openly, in the courtroom itself.

I kissed her passionately.

Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā!

How beautiful Sidrah Aħmad was.

Her lips were juicy.

Passionate.

Scarlet red.

Quivering.

And, wonderful.

She clung to me.

I hugged her.

Both her pointed, erect, Muslim boobs were penetrating my wide Hindu masculine chest.

My right Hindu palm automatically went to her gorgeous Muslim buttocks.

It was habitual to do so.

As soon as, my brain felt, there’s a young woman, surrendering to me for sex and clinging to me, my right palm automatically went to her buttocks.

“Kiss me.” Sidrah Aħmad whispered to me, passionately, “Kiss me passionately, Durgesh! Otherwise I’d die.”

“Don’t worry, my darling, I’ll never let you die.”

“She needs your Hindu Penis right into her Sunni Muslimah Cunt.” Her husband, Public Prosecutor, Åbbās Aħmad, said.

I could not believe my ears.

“What?” I looked at him incredulously.

“He is right, Durgesh!” Sidrah Aħmad whispered under her hot, burning, scorching, breaths.

Her Sunni Muslimah breath was fragrant and intoxicating.

Both her hands were around my neck.

My Hindu Penis was between her soft Sunni Muslimah thighs.

It was knocking on the Sunni Muslimah door of Jannaté Firdaus.

Sunni Muslimah Jannaté Firdaus.

She pressed my throbbing Hindu Penis between her Sunni Muslimah thighs.

My Hindu Penis again demanded entry quite angrily.

I felt that if I don’t enter Sidrah Aħmad, my Hindu Penis would break down out of intense passion.

Suddenly, I pulled her on my lap.

“What happened?”

The people were suddenly asking.

There was a sudden disorder in the courtroom.

Public Prosecutor, Nādir Muħammad had turned to us.

Judge Shrīkānt M. Āgnéý banged his gavel,

“Order. Order. What’s happening there? There must be no disturbance any more. Otherwise, I’ll clear the courtroom.”

Nādirā Kaif shut off her computer, crossed her secretarial office, entered the reception room and opened the door.

Kush Khandelwal, his eyes shining with eagerness, held up a laptop for her inspection.

“Hello, Nādirā auntie! Hello, Nādirā auntie!!” he said.

Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, moved steadily and deliberately on her high heeled light walking shoes.

She came almost marching down the corridor.

Nādirā Kaif put her arm around the boy, Kush Khandelwal, and lifted him up.

“He is the best gift to me from my ex Hindu husband, Deepak Khandelwal.” Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, smiled at Nādirā sweetly.

Nādirā Kaif digested the information.

The information was altogether new to her, that Deepak Khandelwal was an ex Hindu husband, now, to Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife.

Or, more correctly, ex Libyan Muslim wife.

Nādirā Kaif kissed Kush.

She knew, sooner or later, it was bound to happen.

Deepak Khandelwal was completely in a sexual magic spell of this Sidrah Aħmad.

It was to the extent that he was neglecting Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, his extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, too.

“I see, you are not surprised.” Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, smiled at her.

“I am already surprised, Al Ħabībah! Deepak is neglecting you for an Indian Muslim girl.”

“Not an Indian Muslim girl―a Sunni Muslim girl.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you not Sunni?”

“I am Sunni. But Deepak Khandelwal needs as many Sunni Muslim girls to fuck, as he can afford to.”

“Why?”

“You should have asked him.”

“What?”

“You should have asked him, when he tried to black mail you to make you sleep with him.”

Nādirā Kaif smiled,

“I don’t blame him, Al Ħabībah!”

“Why?”

“We all―all of us―are human beings. When our stomach is filled, our life between our thighs starts to demand from us more and more.”

Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, sat down on a sofa.

“I’m listening.” She smiled, “I like your philosophy of life.”

Nādirā Kaif also sat down on sofa chair, opposite Al Ħabībah.

“Well, it’s not exactly original.”

“Influenced from Durgesh?”

“Heavily. The only thing, I can’t digest from Durgesh, is that he proposes―”

“―advocates―”

“Yes! Sorry. He advocates POLYGAMY for Hindu males, but Monogamy for even us Muslimahs.”

“I think, his genes make him to behave in such an absurd manner.”

Deepak Khandelwal stood leaning against the rail as an inky ribbon of black water widened between the ship and the dock.

The hoarse whistle bellowed into noise as spectators on the pier waved hands and handkerchiefs in farewell.

Propellers churned the water into yeasty foam, and then subsided.

The strains of Aloha Oe, snug by the soft voices of beautiful Muslim women, reached the ears of suddenly silent passengers.

Minutes later, as the shore noises drifted astern, Deepak Khandelwal, watching the Aloha tower shrinking in the background of city lights, could see the black outlines of the mountains rising in silent silhouette against the stars.

The hiss of water streaming past the ship’s side became increasingly audible.

Kħadeejah Muħammad clasped strong fingers over the back of my hand where it rested on the rail.

“I’ll never forget this, Durgesh!” She kissed me on my lips, “It’s big and quiet and solemn.”

I nodded, fingering the flowered leis that circled my neck with hands of red, white and purple.

“Want to stay, darling?” I asked.

“No―but it’s something I’ll never forget.”

My voice showed power and self-confidence,

“It’s been a wonderful interlude. A whole month of absolute nudity everywhere. All the beautiful Muslimahs from almost every Islamic country, and other countries too. All the handsome Hindu men from India. All the impotent Musalmeen husbands to serve us all. Your idea was really fantastic.”

“Thank you.” Kħadeejah Muħammad bent down and kissed my steel hard, eight inches long, inviting Hindu Penis.

“Your Hindu Penis once again proved its uniqueness. Of all Hindus, there on the island; it was only your Hindu Penis that was unique.

Six inches long, when untouched by any beautiful nymph, eight inches long when serviced properly by her in her palm, ten inches long when sucked, and twelve inches long when inside.”

Deepak Khandelwal heard it, and grimaced.

His penis was eight inches long, but it never extended beyond nine inches, however it’s served by beautiful soft Muslim palms, mouths, cunts and asses.

Nine inches was his limit.

All his passionate sex kicks, inside even; could not extend it beyond nine inches, ever.

He had talked with Durgesh.

“Your Hindu Penis is a great gift to you from Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā.”

Kħadeejah Muħammad was sleeping.

So, Durgesh was surrounded by almost every Muslimah there.

All in nude.

Durgesh was also in nude.

Deepak Khandelwal was also in nude.

“I’d advised you, Deepak, to watch your Stavans.”

“My friends and family laugh at me when I offer Stavans to your Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā.”

“My Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā?” I laughed, “Hey, He is not only mine.”

“Yes.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I sent my Secretary, Gul Jamāl to you. She let you fuck her on my request.”

“Oh,” I smiled at Gul Jamāl, “You are excellent on the bed, Gul!”

“Thank you. I told the boss that your Hindu Penis is only six inches long, but it extends to eight inches when some beauty play with it properly, taking it in her palms.”

“I did not believe her.” Deepak Khandelwal groaned, “Yet, she proved to be right. I’m the only one here whose penis extends to nine inches only. All the rest extend between nine and ten inches.”

“And―” Gul Jamāl kissed my Hindu Penis, bending over it, “it’s the only penis here that extends beyond ten inches, when inside, with each stroke, as much as to twelve inches even.”

Gul Jamāl was from Afghanistan.

She was a Pathan Muslim girl.

Immensely beautiful of course.

She conspired with me against her boss, Deepak Khandelwal.

My Hindu Penis into her Pathan Muslim Cunt and her Pathan Muslim ass had won her forever.

Now, Deepak Khandelwal could not satisfy her absolutely, as he could satisfy her till now.

“I’ll kiss your feet always, Durgesh!” Gul Jamāl was riding on my mount Everest Hindu Penis, and was fucking me, herself, savagely, “Please, promise me that you’ll fuck me always from now on.”

“But you are Deepak’s secretary, Gul! Will he let you?”

“I’m his secretary―not his wife.” Gul Jamāl flared.

“Gul darling!”

“Even his wife, Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, is planning to fuck you, and you are trying to stop me! His secretary?”

Public Prosecutor, Nādir Muħammad came to us marching angrily.

“What are you doing, Durgesh? What are you doing?” Public Prosecutor, Nādir Muħammad shouted.

Public Prosecutor, Åbbās Aħmad, also shouted angrily,

“What do you think?”

Nādir shouted,

“Behave. Who are you?”

“I’m Public Prosecutor, Mumbai, Åbbās Aħmad.”

“What?”

“Yes! And this is my card. Take it. Here it is.”

Nādir Muħammad looked at him madly.

“What are you looking at? That’s my face―not my card.”

“Oh―oh―yes!-―yes.”

“Take it.”

Nādir Muħammad took the card.

Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, smiled at Nādirā Kaif.

Nādirā Kaif tried to change the subject,

“I’ve some work to do, Al Ħabībah!”

“Oh!”

“A very important job. We are working against a deadline.”

“I know. Kħadeejah Muħammad is coming Monday morning.” Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain’s voice showed her utter indifference to the urgency of the matter.

Why should she be afraid of Kħadeejah Muħammad any more?

It was Deepak Khandelwal, who was the manager of Durgesh Kħadeejah Muħammad Diamond Mining, Smelting & Investment Company―not she.

She has decided to divorce Deepak Khandelwal now.

She has decided to go to Durgesh’s bed where even Kħadeejah Muħammad is a woman only.

“Nādirā!” she addressed Nādirā Kaif sweetly, “Would you be a dear and watch Kush for thirty minutes? I’ve a very important personal appointment and I just can’t take him with me. You know, you are the only one, he’ll stay with.”

Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, glanced at her wristwatch.

Nādirā Kaif knew that the thirty minutes could be at least forty-five and might well be an hour.

And if Al Ħabībah is going to Durgesh―

“Are you going to Durgesh?” Nādirā Kaif asked Al Ħabībah suddenly, smiling.

“Why not?” Al Ħabībah also smiled back at Nādirā Kaif, “Why should I not? Your boss, Deepak Khandelwal, is interested in Sidrah Aħmad more, than in me. Why should I not go to Deepak Khandelwal’s boss, Durgesh, and offer myself to him?”

“Well―” Nādirā Kaif hesitated.

She looked at her wristwatch.

“I ask you it for my sake, Nādirā!” Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain said to her gravely, “We are friends, both against a man, Deepak Khandelwal.”

“Well, I’m not exactly against him, Al Ħabībah!” Nādirā Kaif tried to smile.

Al Ħabībah looked at her, astonished.

“Nādirā! You are not against a man who is trying to blackmail you constantly?”

“I know how beautiful I am, Al Ħabībah!”

“So what?”

“Your husband, Deepak Khandelwal, is not the only man who desires me. I can’t be against all the men who dream of me. I too dreamt of Durgesh.”

“Dreamt of Durgesh? Not only you, my dear, NOT only you. In fact, who of us beauties does not?”

Nādirā Kaif laughed.

“Durgesh fucks my sister Katrina Kaif, in his understanding, not me.”

“And, imagine, the real Katrina Kaif, meets Durgesh and falls in love with him.” Deepak Khandelwal’s extra ordinary beautiful Libyan Muslim wife, Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain, smiled at Nādirā Kaif.

“No chance at all. Katrina is interested in her career, not in sex.”

“And, imagine, Durgesh meets the real Katrina Kaif, and falls in love with her.”

Nādirā Kaif laughed loudly.

“No chance at all again. Durgesh is already fucking the real Katrina Kaif, in his understanding. In his understanding, the real Katrina Kaif, is mad for him.”

“Nādirā! You are playing with dynamite.”

“Nonsense! The real Katrina Kaif, is my real sister. She can’t go against me. Want to bet that she can even admit to Durgesh that she is mad for him? She fucks him?”

“And if Durgesh wants to fuck her then and there?”

“Katrina Kaif is the number one heroine of the Bollywood now. She can manage all the situations. She is habitual of such managements now.”

Al Ħabībah smiled,

“Actually, Nādirā! Kush has some things he wants to talk over with you. He’s been rather upset this morning. Gul Jamāl is also not here.”

“Oh, Nādirā auntie!” Kush pleaded, “Let me stay here with you, please! I want to talk with you.”

“All right.” Nādirā Kaif said, “But you are going to have to be a good boy, Kush! You’re going to sit on a chair and watch your Nādirā auntie work. I have some very important statements to get out.”

“I’ll be good.” Kush promised.

He climbed into a chair, and seated himself with his hands in a possessive way on the laptop.

Al Ħabībah Al Ħusain headed for the door.

“I’m coming after fucking that HVS Supremo.”

“Best of luck.” Nādirā Kaif laughed at her.

“Thank you.” Al Ħabībah called after and waved her.

Nādirā Kaif smiled at Kush,

“What’s in the laptop?”

“Videos.”

Nādirā Kaif regarded the laptop with sudden apprehension,

“Now look here, Kush! You don’t have those dirty videos stored in your laptop. Not again that dirty 6yrs old girl, Samīnā; sucking your Hindu manhood, giving you a fine blowjob, as you say.”

Kush smiled and shook his head,

“This isn’t my laptop. It’s Daddy’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“Daddy keeps his laptop in his bedroom, upstairs. Last night he let me put my laptop too in his bedroom. He said we‘d interchange our laptops one day. Therefore, this morning, I took his laptop.

The words poured out with Kush’s childish accent.

They were spoken so rapidly that one word seemed literally to tread on the heels of another as they left the child’s lips.

Nādirā Kaif regarded the laptop thoughtfully.

It may contain anything.

Even the secret information regarding the Company, Durgesh Kħadeejah Muħammad Diamond Mining Smelting & Investment Company.

Yes, it can’t be reached without proper password, but Deepak Khandelwal had a bad habit about passwords.

He usually used his current girl friend’s name as password.

If she is right, it must be SIDRAH now.

Once it was Ħabībah.

Once it was Nādirā too, though she never was his girl friend.

Public Prosecutor, Mumbai, Åbbās Ahmad―yes, he was right.

Public Prosecutor, Jabalpur, Nādir Muħammad extended his right hand.

“Nice to meet you here at Jabalpur. Myself Nādir Muħammad, Public Prosecutor here.”

Åbbās gripped Nādir Muħammad’s hand in his strong palm.

“Nice to meet you too. Nice to meet you too. She is my wife, Sidrah Aħmad.”

“On Durgesh’s lap?” Nādir Muħammad asked in the flow, but he regretted it as soon as he asked it.

Sidrah Aħmad closed her softest Sunni Muslimah buttocks around my revolting steel hard Hindu Penis between them.

She clung to me again with entire her feminine force.

“She is ill.” Åbbās Aħmad said.

“Oh―” Public Prosecutor, Jabalpur, Nādir Muħammad said, “You should haven’t brought her here.”

I squeezed Sidrah Aħmad’s beautiful Muslim tits on the pretext that I was taking care of her.

Sidrah Aħmad shuddered on my hot Hindu lap.

Judge Shrīkānt M. Āgnéý had taken a fifteen-minute recess to clear the matter.

He was in his chamber now.

My Hindu Penis was Mount Everest now, between her Sunni Muslim glorious buttocks.

My entire existence was shouting at me, to tear off her dress, make her naked, and fuck her then and there in the very courtroom.

My angry Hindu Penis was demanding it, savagely; right there between her Sunni Muslim wonderful buttocks.

It was throbbing there trying to penetrate her Sunni Muslim asshole.

Sidrah Aħmad was madly clinging to me, kissing on my forehead, on my face, on my lips, on my neck and where not.

Public Prosecutor, Jabalpur, Nādir Muħammad was looking at us incredulously.

“What is your wife doing, Sir? What is your wife doing, Sir?” he asked feverishly.

“Tell him, Doctor!” Public Prosecutor, Mumbai, Åbbās Aħmad addressed a young girl in he burqā.

“Doctor?” We all were surprised.

“Yes. She is a psychiatrist from Mumbai, Dr. Ameenah Sultān Åālam.”

All the people surrounding us were suddenly all praise for the world known, renowned psychiatrist from Mumbai, Dr. Ameenah Sultān Åālam.

She had with her several assistant women psychiatrists as well.

All the beautiful Muslim young girls, wearing burqās, there; were actually the expert psychiatrists, assisting the young yet great psychiatrist from Mumbai, Dr. Ameenah Sultān Åālam.

They all produced their papers to the effect.

Public Prosecutor, Jabalpur, Nādir Muħammad; himself examined them carefully.

Then, suddenly, he took all those papers and marched to the Judge’s chamber, gravely.

Chapter 3

———————————————————————————————————————–

More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

1. Bahoo Bégum

2. The obsession

3 The daughters and wife of my Musalmān friend

4.The Extramarital affair: Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah:Social Service

5. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–1

6. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–2

7. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–3

8. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–4

9. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–5

10. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–6

11. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–7

12. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–8

13. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–9

14. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–10

15.My Social Service: My Sex Empire: Durgesh

16. A Deep Conflict-1

17. A deserving unfaithfulness

18. A deserving unfaithfulness-2

19. I’m never ashamed of it

20. Yåqūb Family-1

21. They conspired against me

22 A secret Smile

23. A new young wife at sixty

24. My dad’s new Musalmān wife

25. The Beaming Knowledge

26. The three pregnants-1

27. The three pregnants-2

28. In the Moonlight

29. The women in my life

30. Sālī, Ammījān!

31. Now entirely secured and safe

32. She needed me extremely

33. Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh

34. Kħadījah Åbdullah Bājī seduced me

35. Her Brilliant Decisions-1

36. Her Brilliant Decisions-2

37. Her Brilliant Decisions-3

38. Her Brilliant Decisions-4

39. No Hindu, Please!

40. Only Hindus, Please!

41. Scintillating Ammī and daughter

42. I do hate hypocrisy

43. I still love Durgesh, with immense pride

44. Hell, I revolt

45. She loved me all along

46. She told the untold-1

47. Arātīyato ni dahāti Vedah: The untold history of our freedom fight-1

48. Making love and understanding everything

49. We both, Nādirah, and Arzumand, love Durgesh

50. After the death of my husband

51. The everbest wives-1

52. Ultimately, I’m an Ammī now

53. The most memorable Eidī of her life

54. It was 24×7, that was all we three cared

55. You are the best. You don’t know

56. I’m not defeated even yet-1

57. Misunderstanding: Everyone thought she’s my wife

58. Yūsuf or Kr’shñ?-1

59. Kħadījah Durgesh Åāyeshah: I Lost My Sister And Wife To Durgesh

60. A rapist Hindu Piya-1

61. Åli Muħammad Satyarthi-1

62. I love my wife Kħadījah Muħammad

63. Raziyah Akbar Aurangzeb-1

64. I live with him

65. The only man she loved

———————————————————————————————————–—

More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:

1. Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 1

2. Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 2

3. Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 3

4. Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 4

5.Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 5

6. Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 6

5. Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 7

7. Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā: 8

8. Karwā Chauth kā Rozā

9. Mérā Piyā ghar āyā,Yā Allah! Uiiii!-1

10. Mérā Piyā ghar āyā,Yā Allah! Uiiii!-2

11. Durgesh Sidrah Aħmad aur uski Bhābhījān-1

12. Durgesh Sidrah Aħmad aur uski Bhābhījān-2

13. Eidul Fitr-1

14. Mérī mubārakbād qabool farmāýén, Ħazrat!

15. Méré Māmūzād Cousin kī Sasurāl mein main

فَبِأَيِّ آلَاءِ رَبِّكُمَا تُكَذِّبَانِ16 ‘Fabiayyi ālāi Rabbikumā tukazzibāni?’

17. Ahal-e-Bait-1

————————————————————————————–——————————-

Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi:

1. The Foundation Story Coninued: Chapter 1

2. The Foundation Story Coninued: Chapter 2

3. The Foundation Story Coninued: Chapter 3

4 . The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 4

5. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 5

6. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 6

7. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 7

8. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 8

9. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 9

10. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 10

11. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 11

12. The Foundation Story Continued: Chapter 12

13. The Foundation story continued: Chapter 13

14. Prelude to Ten Commandments-1

15. Prelude to Ten Commandments-2

16. Prelude to Ten Commandments-3

———————————————————————————————————————–

More commentary on Ved from DSM Satyarthi:

1. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

2. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 1| Mantr 2

3. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 58| Mantr 6

4. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 164| Mantr 20

5. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 164| Mantr 46

6. R’gved: Mandal 2| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

7. R’gved: Mandal 3| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

8. R’gved: Mandal 4| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

9. R’gved: Mandal 5| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

10. R’gved: Mandal 6| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

11. R’gved: Mandal 7| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

12. R’gved: Mandal 8| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

13. R’gved: Mandal 9| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

14. R’gved: Mandal 9| Sookt 63| Mantr 4-5

15. R’gved: Mandal 10| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

16. R’gved: Mandal 10| Sookt 85| Mantr 42

17. Yajurved: Adhyaay’ 1| Mantr 1

18. Saamved: Mantr 1

19. Atharv Ved: Kaand 1| Sookt 1| Mantr 1

20. Atharv Ved: Kaand 14| Sookt 1| Mantr 22

21. Atharv Ved: Kaand 14| Sookt 2| Mantr 25

Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind–1

Posted: February 7, 2010 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Hudā, Imāmzādī Almās, Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, Judge Shrīkānt M. Āgnéý, Katrina Kaif, Kħadeejah Muħammad, Kħātooné Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadā Fātimā razee Allāhu tåālā ånhā, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåeemah Waħāb, Sidrah Aħmad, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex | 5 Comments

Durgesh Sidrah: One More Mastermind–1

Durgesh

Chapter 1

There had been less traffic than I had anticipated.

I parked my car in front of the building of the court.

There was a chance that the case Hudā was fighting might occupy the entire morning and perhaps a part of the afternoon, would have been disposed of sooner than contemplated.

Hudā, therefore, would be free sooner.

I walked the wide corridor to the swinging mahogany doors with the Judge’s name on them and entered the courtroom.

The trial was in progress.

Hudā, obviously self-conscious, was standing by the defense counsel table.

She was apparently at a loss as to what to say next.

The witness, standing in the witness box, was smiling confidently at Hudā.

She was waiting for the next question somewhat patronizingly.

The jury seemed slightly bored.

I eased my body into a seat at the rear of the courtroom.

“So, Imāmzādī Almās,” Hudā asked, “It was dark. Wasn’t it?”

Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, the witness, smiled at Hudā,

“What was dark?”

“The night.”

“The night was dark, but the street was lighted.” Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, the witness, smiled at Hudā, again.

“What do you mean, it was lighted?”

“There was a light at the corner.”

“And that light gave you sufficient illumination?”

“It gave the street sufficient illumination.”

“To the street, not to you?”

“I don’t need it.”

Hudā observed the witness.

She was dressed in such a manner that no one could say, she was an Imāmzādī.

She was looking a film star herself.

“Yes! So I can see.” Hudā commented smiling admiringly at her.

“Thank you.” Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, the witness, smiled back at Hudā.

“My pleasure! So there was enough light there so that you could see?”

“There was enough light there so that I could see. Yes.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw the defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb.”

“What did she do?”

“She was taking a suitcase out of the back of the car.”

“Oh, so you saw her taking out a suitcase?”

“Yes.”

I was suddenly distracted.

The young girl sitting next to me suddenly put her right hand on my left thigh.

I was startled.

She was in a burqā.

I looked at her.

But, she was looking at the witness.

She pretended that it was her unconscious act.

“Then?” Hudā asked the witness.

“Then the defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb, put the suitcase down on the ground, bent over it, opened the suitcase, took out something―”

“Yes, yes,” Hudā interrupted impatiently, “You’ve told us all that before.”

The young girl in the burqā put her shawl on my lap.

And then she unzipped me.

I was startled again.

The girl must be mad.

In the courtroom, filled with spectators so heavily?

So openly?

Was she so ravenous?

“What are you doing?” I asked her under my hot breaths.

“Enjoy yourself and let me enjoy too.” She said under her breaths too, and her hand entered my underwear.

“Eīshān Param Brahm Parmātmā!”

“Allah Allah Kħair Sallah!”

“Who are you?”

“Kħātooné Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadā Fātimā razee Allāhu tåālā ånhā.”

“Nonsense!”

“I love you.”

“Nonsense!”

“Shut up. Let me enjoy if you don’t want to.”

“Are you mad?”

“Yes! For you. Otherwise I would not have come from Mumbai.”

The girl had taken out my Hindu Penis till now and was playing with it, hungrily.

“Sālī! someone will see.”

“Let the someone do anything whatsoever.”

“I invite you for dinner, tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Leave it now.”

“Never.”

“Well, you asked me what I saw.” The witness, Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, was saying, “I thought you wanted me to tell you again.”

“No.” Hudā contradicted Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, “Not what you surmised the defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb, was doing. I want to know what you actually saw she was doing.”

Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, the witness, adjusted herself.

“I saw her opening the compartment of the back of the car. I saw the defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb, took out a suitcase. I saw her put it on the ground. I saw her open the suitcase.”

Suddenly, I stiffened.

The girl, playing with my Hindu Penis, squeezed it meaningfully.

“Hi, what are you after?” I asked her under my breath.

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

“At night.”

“No. Now.”

“I can’t leave the courtroom.”

“Why?”

“The defense lawyer is my friend.”

“You fuck her?”

I smiled at her.

“How old are you?”

“27. Why?”

“Can you think anything except sex?”

“Can you?”

“Of course.”

“Then you are not my man.”

“Sorry, I disappointed you.”

“You did not say on Internet that you don’t love sex.”

“I love sex, but―what? On Internet?”

“Of course! On Internet.”

“The defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb, had her back to you.” Hudā asked the witness harshly, “Had she not?”

“She had. Yes.”

“Then you couldn’t have seen the defendant open the suitcase.”

Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, the witness, collected herself again.

“I saw the defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb, bend over the suitcase.” She said curtly, “I saw her hands on the lid of the suitcase. I saw the lid of the suitcase come up. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“You couldn’t see what the defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb, took out. Could you?”

“No. That I couldn’t. Of course.” Imāmzādī Almās Kaif, the witness, admitted.

Hudā, the defense lawyer, lowered her beautiful Saůūdī Årab Musalmān eyes to the counsel table.

It was her first case here, at Jabalpur.

She bent over her laptop.

Her husband, Zāhid Waħāb came to her at once, obediently.

“Can I help you, dear?”

The girl in burqā, playing with my Hindu Penis, under her shawl, smiled ironically.

“Nice role for a Muslim husband.”

“What?” I looked at her.

“My husband is also obedient to me.”

“You are married?”

“Of course, I’m married. What do you think? I’m 27.”

My voice became somewhat impish.

“There are so many girls who are more than 27. Yet, they are not married.”

“Well, I’m not one of them.”

“Yes. I can see.”

She squeezed my penis.

“Want to pluck it out?”

“Your wife will kill me.”

“Otherwise, you would’ve plucked it out?”

She laughed and squeezed my Hindu Penis again.

“Eīshān!” I said, “Eīshān!”

She winked at me,

“Allah! Allah!

Ibtidāye ishq hai, rota hai kyā?

Aage aage dekhnā hotā hai kyā!”

Hudā played with her laptop aimlessly.

Apparently, she was thinking of some question she could ask the witness, Imāmzādī Almās Kaif.

The case was bad.

She was thinking some question that would not make her case worse.

Members of the jury looked at each other, at the clock, and then let their attention wander around the courtroom.

“At the time, you didn’t know who owned the car, did you?”

Hudā demanded of the witness.

“No, madam. How could I?”

“Don’t ask me questions. Only answer me.”

“Yes, madam! Sorry, madam!”

“When did you find out who owned the car?”

“After the defendant, Naåeemah Waħāb, had left I started wondering―”

“Never mind.” Hudā smiled at the witness, “Never mind what you were wondering at, neither what you thought. Tell us only when did you find out who owned the car.”

“When the police told me.”

“So you are testifying what the police told you?”

Public Prosecutor, Nādir Muħammad smiled at the judge.

“Objection, your honor!”

“Sustained.”

“It goes to the bias of the witness, your honor!” Hudā said gravely.

Judge Shrīkānt M. Āgnéý hesitated somewhat, and looked at the Public Prosecutor, Nādir Muħammad.

Public Prosecutor, Nādir Muħammad understood the situation.

“I withdraw my objection, your honor! If your honor permits it, the witness can answer the question.”

“Answer the question.” Judge Shrīkānt M. Āgnéý ruled.

“Who are you?” I asked the extra ordinary beautiful Muslim girl, in burqā, playing with my Hindu Penis.

“Not entirely unknown to you.”She squeezed my penis, suggestively, again.