Fātimah Al Zohrah enjoyed a wonderful relationship with her Ammī over the years, but for some reason I, her Stepdad; and Fātimah Al Zohrah just clicked on a higher level.
I was her role model because of my intelligence, strength, and integrity.
Fātimah Al Zohrah looked up to me with complete admiration for as long as she could remember.
We also enjoyed joking and teasing one another, which we loved but her Ammī thought it, was childish.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was a senior executive with a major insurance company based in the mid-western US.
Given her background, I always stressed prudent financial planning to her.
When she began making decent money I encouraged her to purchase her first home rather than wasting money on rent.
With the help of a realtor, herAmmī, I and Fātimah Al Zohrah looked at a number of houses before she found one Fātimah Al Zohrah liked.
It needed lots of work and updating, but she said it had, “Good bones,” so I made an offer and before long it was mine.
Thankfully, both her Ammī and I volunteered to guide on her numerous projects.
Consequently, Fātimah Al Zohrah was not now alone on her own.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wanted to jump right in and make major changes, but didn’t have a lot of money to spend after the down payment.
She refused politely and quite respectfully any financial help from any one of us too, despite our persistent and ever insistent attempts even.
“Let me be self made, please, will you?” she pleaded all of us.
We hadn’t another option except to surrender to her immense self respect, self pride and self confidence.
Everyone of us wished good luck to her ultimately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said the easiest and cheapest way to alter the house was a fresh coat of paint all around.
Therefore, after moving in, Fātimah Al Zohrah worked with her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, to pick out colors for both inside and out.
Since it was summer, Kħadījah Al Kubrā suggested we begin with the outdoor painting and could do the indoor later as the weather became more inclement.
Shortly after Fātimah Al Zohrah settled in, her Ammī and I came down the next weekend and we all jumped into working on the house.
Fātimah Al Zohrah and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were going to paint the outside while Kħadījah Al Kubrā cleaned and put things away inside.
I helped Fātimah Al Zohrah and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
They were not exactly friendly ever.
Yet Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had offered her help to Fātimah Al Zohrah.
I wanted to imply to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan that despite her never tired constant attempts to bring only Jet Musalmān Beauties in my sexual life and almost remove mature Musalmān Beauties as many as she could, I do still appreciate her attempts to improve her relations with my other stepdaughters that hated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the ever first President of Modern Democratic Årabia now.
Yet, she wanted to improve her relations with Fātimah Al Zohrah.
I certainly wanted to help her.
The home was only 1,300 square feet.
We figured it wouldn’t take long to finish the outside, even though it needed a lot of prep work.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Fātimah Al Zohrah and I worked side by side in the hot sun.
I was between both of them.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan deliberately squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis significantly whenever she could manage it.
Fātimah Al Zohrah deliberately avoided to see Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s such open bold sexual activities with me.
She never appreciated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan seduced me herself and now she is successfully maintaining her live in relationship with me openly.
Although it was a dirty work Fātimah Al Zohrah insisted to do it herself, and we were only helping in Fātimah Al Zohrah.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had as much fun as was possible given the situation.
We had a radio playing outside, and we both, Fātimah Al Zohrah and I, took turns changing the station to something we liked.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was more interested in her sexual activities with me.
She was an incurable Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Sex goddess.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was her constant need.
Well, less or more I was also exactly what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was in these matters.
I was also an incurable sex god myself.
A Musalmān Cunt was also my constant need to bury my Uncut Hindu Lund deepest into.
It wasn’t fair for me to blame Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan consequently.
I kept sneaking radio back to a classic rock station, while Fātimah Al Zohrah preferred more modern, danceable tunes.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, stepped out to check on us at one point, just after I had changed the station again.
I playfully slapped Fātimah Al Zohrah’s butt with the back of her scraper.
It drew an immediate response from her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā.
“Stop flirting with Durgesh and let him get some work done,” Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, said indignantly somewhat.
It candidly, truthfully, stunned Fātimah Al Zohrah.
Had it been anyone else in the world, what we were doing would clearly have been seen as flirting, but this was Fātimah Al Zohrah for goodness sakes.
Did her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, really believe Fātimah Al Zohrah was flirting with Durgesh or was she just joking?
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt her face go red and moved away to work in silence, but she couldn’t get the word ‘flirt’ out of her head.
Was Fātimah Al Zohrah the family flirt?
Fātimah Al Zohrah let me play my rock station the rest of the day, and remained fairly quiet thereafter.
When Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, and I left late in the day, Fātimah Al Zohrah showered and went to bed early.
Unfortunately, Fātimah Al Zohrah could not get what her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, said out of her mind.
She kept thinking about her relationship with me.
I was by far the most important man in her life, and someone Fātimah Al Zohrah admired like no other.
Fātimah Al Zohrah loved me to death, but Fātimah Al Zohrah was left pondering if it somehow could be more than that.
Was Fātimah Al Zohrah IN love with me?
As a twenty nine year old woman, Fātimah Al Zohrah had dated a number of men, some of whom she really loved.
Yet as she thought back, Fātimah Al Zohrah found that she consistently measured them up to one person, her Stepdad, Durgesh.
Fātimah Al Zohrah dated them but always rejected them without even any single exception\.
They were not as handsome, not as intelligent, not as strong, etc.
She always told herself Fātimah Al Zohrah should hold out for someone better, after all, it worked for her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā.
The realization slowly began to build until it finally sunk in.
Fātimah Al Zohrah really was in love with me!
Fātimah Al Zohrah really was in love with me!
With Durgesh, her own Hindu stepfather.
Allah! Yā Allah!
Fātimah Al Zohrah wondered if she’d be able to face her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, again, pondering if somehow she’d seen right through her and knew her illicit secret.
Well, was it illicit really?
Yet, could Fātimah Al Zohrah face her Stepdaddy, me, again, afraid she’d let something slip and I’d learn her feelings were far deeper than a even a Musalmān stepdaughter should have for her Hindu stepdfather?
Fātimah Al Zohrah always criticized Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan for seducing me.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t right.
She never could be.
All the sympathy of Fātimah Al Zohrah was with Nafīsah Salmān.
Yes, Nafīsah Salmān Ammī had deserted Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Nafīsah Salmān Ammī had even cuckolded Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s real Abbū.
But didn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself do the same thing?*
If Nafīsah Salmān Ammī had humiliated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, what the hell else Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself did?
Didn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan go more countless steps ahead in humiliating and disgracing her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, herself?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was an incurable nudist feminist.
Moreover, she was an exhibitionist too.
She deliberately compelled Durgesh to have sex with her in public places openly.
And she was proud of it too.
All her movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service, aren’t most of them exhibitions, more or less?
Fortunately, she didn’t have much time to stew.
We would be back in the morning to pick up where we left off earlier.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I arrived early.
We all set about working without much fanfare.
Fātimah Al Zohrah and I continued scraping the outside while her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, busied herself indoors.
Fortunately, it was much cooler than the day before which made the task marginally more pleasant.
We broke for lunch and all, except me, enjoyed a cold beer on the porch as we ate.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had been quiet most of the morning feeling a tad ill at ease, but Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, and I appeared normal as ever.
Fātimah Al Zohrah tried her best to dismiss the feeling that they were somehow onto her.
However, Fātimah Al Zohrah still found it difficult to look at me for too long without getting a strange feeling deep in her belly.
She was deadly in love with Durgesh.
Allah! Yā Allah!
And how foolishly Fātimah Al Zohrah blamed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was right.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was always right.
No Musalmān Beauty, whosoever the hell she may be, can ever resist Durgesh’s ever undefeatable Hindu masculine charms.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t to be blamed.
Poor Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan too couldn’t resist as now she herself, Fātimah Al Zohrah, can’t resist.
What a damnfool Fātimah Al Zohrah was.
She didn’t criticize Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan only.
Fātimah Al Zohrah criticized her others extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān girlfriends too that they shamelessly seduced Durgesh.
Durgesh was sixty plus.
And they were only Jet Musalmān Beauties.
Yet they were crazy to have sex with Durgesh so shamelessly.
Despite the fact that their own Ammīs, Kħālās, Phūphīs, Mumānīs etcetera were themselves having sex with Durgesh.
By the end of lunch and much casual conversation, Fātimah Al Zohrah was far more relaxed.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was sure Ammī simply used the word ‘flirt’ as a substitute for joke, and wasn’t trying to imply anything else.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, could be very direct, but she hadn’t said anything else, so Fātimah Al Zohrah was certain she’d just overreacted.
In the afternoon we finished the scraping and sanding, so Fātimah Al Zohrah showed me how to caulk around the windows and trim.
I laid a bead down and turned to her to see that I’d followed what I was doing.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was feeling somewhat naughty being so close to me, and said quietly,
“Nice caulk, Durgesh darling.” Fātimah Al Zohrah shocked herself with her boldness, blushed slightly before she glanced around to make sure her Ammī was not hovering nearby.
She never called me anything but ‘Durgesh darling’.
But she never realized why it was so.
Allah! Yā Allah!
The deepest feeling behind all these actions was her intense deadly feminine love for Durgesh.
Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t survive without Durgesh’s masculine love for her.
As Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t.
As her extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends couldn’t.
Durgesh is doubtlessly the dream lover of entire Musalmān Beauties.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was deadly sure of the cold and hard fact now.
I just shook my head slightly and in a drawn out way, responded,
“Princess,” clearly admonishing Fātimah Al Zohrah with my tone.
Hee lips slowly turned into a grin however, which made me feel like Fātimah Al Zohrah had gotten away with something.
Fātimah Al Zohrah went inside and grabbed another couple of beers for her and juice for me.
When Fātimah Al Zohrah returned Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was busily caulking another window.
Fātimah Al Zohrah handed me a juice and stood back.
Fātimah Al Zohrah watched while I worked with ever naughty ever sexiest Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
I just seemed immensely capable to her, like there was nothing I couldn’t do.
Fātimah Al Zohrah marveled at how an executive who spent most of his time in a suit was so willing to do manual labor for his far poorer Musalmān stepdaughter, while he always tried to gift her millions.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had always politely asked Durgesh to let her be self made too, as he himself was.
Fātimah Al Zohrah don’t think I’d even painted my own home in ages, hiring contractors to do it for me, yet there I was.
How nice of Durgesh.
He is doing it only because Fātimah Al Zohrah insisted to do it herself.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was also doing it for the same purpose.
What a nice couple Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Durgesh.
To hell with the age difference.
To hell with their mutual personal relationship.
Wasn’t it their own personal matter.
What right anyone else has to interfere between them?
Aren’t they both adult?
Let them lead and enjoy their own personal life in whatsoever manner they damn please.
Shouldn’t everyone behave in this way?
her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I left early that evening, promising to be back the next weekend to start the painting.
As Fātimah Al Zohrah showered, she couldn’t help thinking of me and of her daring ‘caulk’ comment.
Before Fātimah Al Zohrah even knew what was happening, Fātimah Al Zohrah had the shower massager head between her legs pointed directly at her clit while Fātimah Al Zohrah fingered her over-heated Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
As her orgasm approached, Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t help but moan,
“Oh, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! .”
Fātimah Al Zohrah came hard and her knees buckled, but Fātimah Al Zohrah leaned against the tile walls and somehow remained upright.
Over the next week, Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t get me out of her mind.
At work, Fātimah Al Zohrah daydreamed about me, and in the evenings at home Fātimah Al Zohrah found herself deeply lost in her fantasy world of being with me in an intimate way.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wasn’t ashamed to realize she rubbed herself off more than a few times to the illicit thoughts.
What the hell there is illicit in it?
I wasn’t her real father.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, you are right.
You were always right.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was a damnfool.
Please forgive me.*
On her way home from work one night Fātimah Al Zohrah picked up a few gallons each of primer and paint for her Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me to use.
Fātimah Al Zohrah also tried to come up with a ton of indoor projects to keep her Ammī occupied elsewhere.
Knowing how manipulative Fātimah Al Zohrah was being made her feel terrible.
Fātimah Al Zohrah tried not to think about it too much.
The guilt was hard to ignore though.
Fātimah Al Zohrah shouldn’t cheat on her Ammī.
But why the hell Ammī herself doesn’t understand?
What’s wrong in it?
Why the hell Fātimah Al Zohrah can’t love Durgesh?
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā allows her countless extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends to fuck Durgesh.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā allows their daughters even.
But Fātimah Al Zohrah would not be allowed.
Why the hell?
Fātimah Al Zohrah was surprised when I showed up alone on Saturday morning.
I explained that her Ammī had decided to visit her own mother, who had been ill, so it would just be the two of us.
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt a tingle run over her skin, knowing she’d have me all to herself for the day.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan already had told her she couldn’t come today.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had some political responsibilities to attend to.*
The morning started off quiet as Fātimah Al Zohrah avoided flirting with me overtly, but I was my usual jovial self and slowly pulled hee out of her shell.
It was even hotter than the previous weekend, and at about eleven o’clock I pulled my shirt off and set about working topless.
Fātimah Al Zohrah complained that it was unfair.
I simply smiled at Fātimah Al Zohrah and stated,
“I don’t mind even if you too do the same, Fātimah Al Zohrah. Okay? Fair now?”
“Yah, right, Durgesh darling,” Fātimah Al Zohrah responded, and then added, “Bet you’d love that.”
I laughed and answered,
“You bet. I haven’t seen twenty-something boobies, since, well…”
Fātimah Al Zohrah was twenty-something.
“Boobies, Durgesh darling?” Fātimah Al Zohrah said, shaking her head impishly, “You’re never really showing your age.”
“Yet, still I know, I’m an old man of sixty three,” I replied.
Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t help but steal views of my body.
For a guy who just turned sixty three, I was in amazing shape.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and the entire Jet Musalmān Beauties of her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad were persistently ever insistent that I was thirty three only.
I still possessed six pack abs.
Moreover, I was solid all over.
Even at my medium height, I stood well above her five foot eight inch frame.
Even with her long, sleek legs, Fātimah Al Zohrah was well shorter than her super sexy Durgesh darling.
I still had a thick head of black hair, which was sometimes only peppered with a hint of grey and highlighted my dark eyes well.
We worked for another hour or so when Fātimah Al Zohrah suggested we take a break for lunch.
I grabbed the hose and held it as her Fātimah Al Zohrah washed the paint off my hands.
When I was done, I handed me the hose so Fātimah Al Zohrah could do the same.
After Fātimah Al Zohrah washed her hands, Fātimah Al Zohrah was surprised when I turned the water upon Fātimah Al Zohrah and blasted her from head to toe.
The water was cold and Fātimah Al Zohrah shrieked as I drenched her.
I had come there after fucking Shamsah Salāħuddīn, Najmah Salāħuddīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Nafīsah Salmān too.
Yet I was still feeling sexy.
Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t help it.
I was built that way.
I was deliberately brought up since my very childhood to be so.
It was my inherent nature now to be impish with fair sex, whosoever she was.
Fātimah Al Zohrah simply laughed at her predicament.
Within Moments I dropped the hose and I noticed her eyes were nearly bugging out of her head.
Suddenly alert I realized Fātimah Al Zohrah was watching between my legs deliberately checking whether I had any erection for her too.
I scolded her with my eyes, yet silently still.
Fātimah Al Zohrah looked down and saw the water had made both her worn white tee shirt and sheer white bra essentially transparent.
The cold water had also turned her nipples hard as rocks, and there was no mistaking them through the two soaking layers of clothing.
A thrill instantly went through her entire extremely beautiful twenty nine years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body knowing that I was seeing her breasts like never before.
In spite of her excitement, Fātimah Al Zohrah took a long deep breath, and calmly said, “Jeez, Durgesh darling, I guess you really did want to see my boobies.”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it ever, Fātimah Al Zohrah, I swear,” I said gravely in response.
“It’s okay,” Fātimah Al Zohrah smiled, and then added, “I better get changed before lunch.”
“Sweetie, I’m really sorry. Really,” I said emphatically, and Fātimah Al Zohrah could tell I actually meant it.
Fātimah Al Zohrah regretted instantaneously.
What the hell?
Why she is acting so childish still now?
Why not encourage him instead making him sorry.
Fātimah Al Zohrah is still a damnfool.
She can’t be Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ever.
Criticize Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan more.
And lose consequently what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has already achieved.
Why the hell Fātimah Al Zohrah always act to destine herself a loser?
Is that what Fātimah Al Zohrah wants to be?
Be Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Get what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has gotten.
Seduce him, O stupid.
Seduce Durgesh the greatest.
“It’s okay. You were just playing and accidents happen. Let’s just eat and forget about it,” Fātimah Al Zohrah told me, trying to remain as steady on the outside as possible, while her insides were doing cartwheels.
The truth was, Fātimah Al Zohrah was proud of her breasts.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was a late bloomer, and was jealous of the other girls at school when they budded before her.
Her twins finally began showing a couple of years later, and they swelled into what Fātimah Al Zohrah thought was a perfect set, size 36 C.
Fātimah Al Zohrah walked into her room and looked in the mirror.
There was no escaping the fact that her breasts were completely on display.
Durgesh clearly had a good view, which sent a shiver down her spine.
“Hope you liked ’em, Durgesh darling,” Fātimah Al Zohrah thought to herself as Fātimah Al Zohrah peeled off the wet clothes.
Fātimah Al ZohrahI reached up and cupped her breasts then rolled her hard nipples between her fingers.
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt really naughty knowing I was down the hall and her door was wide open, but that just made Fātimah Al Zohrah even hotter.
Fātimah Al Zohrah shook her head clear and knew she didn’t have time to pleasure herself the way Fātimah Al Zohrah wanted to.
At first Fātimah Al Zohrah put on a dry bra and an old red tee shirt, but then reconsidered after looking at her somewhat plain appearance in the mirror.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was feeling super sexy and wanted to further seduce her ‘Durgesh darling’.
Durgesh is her lover.
What Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has done, why the hell Fātimah Al Zohrah could too?
Fātimah Al Zohrah took off both and went to her dresser looking for something better to wear.
Fātimah Al Zohrah chose to go braless ultimately, and put on a simple white top with a scoop neck.
If everything goes alright, Fātimah Al Zohrah would fuck the Hindu beast today.
Why the delay?
Isn’t Fātimah Al Zohrah twenty nine already?
Fātimah Al Zohrah knew that if she bent over, I would get an unencumbered view of her glorious Musalmān breasts.
The thought of it thrilled Fātimah Al Zohrah.
She tweaked her nipples for a Moment to ensure they were really hard before Fātimah Al Zohrah left to seduce me in the kitchen where Fātimah Al Zohrah found me sitting at the table looking somewhat vigilant and cautious.
Durgesh can never understand his ever sexy Musalmān stepdaughters.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has already made a record as his world famous live in relationship partner.
Countless of his Musalmān stepdaughters have already fucked him.
Yet Durgesh still hasn’t learned his Musalmān stepdaughters would never accept him their stepfather.
Durgesh is their dream Hindu lover too whether he appreciates it or not.
Sooner or later, Durgesh has to fuck his every Musalmān stepdaughter.
Better fuck them willingly.
Better fuck them without any delay any more.
Why tease them for your damned impractical morals?
You blame Pseudo Musalmīn for their damned impractical morals.
You agree with their Musalmān Houseladies.
Why don’t you agree with your Musalmān stepdaughters too?
What of your own impractical morals?
Double standard you have?
As Fātimah Al Zohrah started making our sandwiches, I said gravely,
“Fātimah Al Zohrah, I’m really sorry, sweetie. I honestly didn’t mean it. Sorry once more.”
“Relax, I know you didn’t,” Fātimah Al Zohrah smiled working with her back towards me.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was suddenly emboldened that her confident Hindu stepdfather was suddenly off my game.
Before Fātimah Al Zohrah could say another word, Fātimah Al Zohrah quickly turned and pulled her blouse deliberately above her breasts and said,
“They’re just boobs, Durgesh darling. Every woman has them, so just relax, okay?”*
I turned my head away instantly, furiously,
“What the hell, Fātimah Al Zohrah? Cover them. Don’t you want me to come here any more?”
“Why?” Fātimah Al Zohrah suddenly flared. “Are my breasts that ugly that you can’t even look at them?”
It was not her instantaneous response to my fury.
It was her well thought out strategy instead.
Be aggressive if Durgesh is aggressive.
If he is normal, dominate the Hindu beast.
I didn’t say a word in protest to her action.
“Look at Fātimah Al Zohrah, Durgesh darling, are they that gross?”
Gravely I turned to face her.
“They’re lovely.” I said softly.
I had to change my strategy too subjective to her own strategy.
With that, Fātimah Al Zohrah pulled her shirt down and smiled,
“Do you see? That wasn’t so hard to look at my bare lovely Musalmān breasts, was it? I know you love them, the bare lovely breasts of us Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Beauties’, I mean”
I knew I was not appreciating it.
But blood pounded through her veins at her own boldness, driving Fātimah Al Zohrah wild.
Not only had I received a wonderful view of her breasts when I soaked her chest, but an even better one when Fātimah Al Zohrah flashed them to me.
Fātimah Al Zohrah flashed her own stepdfather!
And I said they were lovely too.
Allah! Yā Allah! God, Fātimah Al Zohrah was so hot!
She never knew even she could do that.
Fātimah Al Zohrah finished making our sandwiches on weak legs, and then we ate in relative silence.
Fātimah Al Zohrah found herself thrusting her chest out, wondering if my eyes would wander to her firm breasts and hard nipples.
Her blouse displayed quite a bit of cleavage, and Fātimah Al Zohrah honestly wanted me to look and appreciate.
But as she expected my face was not flush.
It was grave instead.
And Fātimah Al Zohrah wondered if it was because I was embarrassed or excited.
She let me play my station on radio.
She had already bared her extremely beautiful boobs to me today.
She had already annoyed me.
She deliberately didn’t want me to disturb any more now.
Fātimah Al Zohrah turned a dance station on.
It was a good excuse for her to shake subtly her extremely beautiful young Musalmān body as we worked alongside one another.
Fātimah Al Zohrah found numerous opportunities to bend over in My direction, showing off her unencum extremely lovely bared Musalmān breasts and long legs.
Around six o’clock we decided to call it a day.
I held the hose as Fātimah Al Zohrah washed her hands, then I did the same for her.
Inside Fātimah Al Zohrah was praying I’d spray her again, but she could see I was abnormal and that was just not going to happen again.
She cursed herself.
Why the hell she didn’t appreciate my action?
She kind of wished she had washed first so Fātimah Al Zohrah could have sprayed her, but it was an opportunity lost.
She cursed herself again.*
Suddenly, a naughty idea hit her head.
I had brought a change of clothes.
I told her I should take a shower before heading home rather than get any paint on my car’s upholstery.
Fātimah Al Zohrah snuck into the bathroom before I went in and stole most of the towels and even the bath mat.
Her home was older and the plumbing was rather loud.
When I began my shower Fātimah Al Zohrah quietly crept in and removed all the remaining towels and everything else with which Fātimah Al Zohrah could cover myself, including my discarded clothes.
Fātimah Al Zohrah sat across the hall in her guest bedroom waiting for me to finish bathing.
The old plumbing banged as I shut off the water.
Fātimah Al Zohrah knew I was done.
Only a Moment later, she heard me call her name,
“Fātimah Al Zohrah, I need a towel in here.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah walked to the door on bold legs, and announced,
“I have one out here for you, Durgesh darling. Open the door.”
The door opened just a couple of inches, and Fātimah Al Zohrah saw a hand snake out.
My fingers began to snap, as though I was trying to grab something that wasn’t there.
She took a deep breath to steel her resolve, then said,
“Open the door if you want the towel.”
There was silence for a Moment, and then she heard from behind the door,
“Just hand it to me, will you?”
Once again, Fātimah Al Zohrah paused before stating,
“Durgesh darling, you got to see my boobs twice today. I think it’s only fair that I get to see your Uncut Hindu Lund once.”
“What the hell! Are you crazy?” I shouted.
Fātimah Al Zohrah remained as calm as possible, and then responded,
“No, I’m not. Do you want a towel or not?”*
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt the blood pounding through her veins, and wondered just what would happen next.
It seemed like ages, but only fifteen seconds or so later Fātimah Al Zohrah saw the door begin to swing open.
Sweat rolled down her back as Fātimah Al Zohrah came into view.
I was completely naked, but held both hands in front of my groin; a grave look was upon my handsome face.
Ninety nine percent of her was uncertain, but the one percent won out and Fātimah Al Zohrah said,
“Let me see, Durgesh darling, fair is fair.”*
We stared into each other’s eyes for a Moment, before I slowly moved my hands away from my crotch.
Fātimah Al Zohrah cast her glance down and was shocked by what Fātimah Al Zohrah saw.
My Uncut Hindu Lund, even while flaccid, was at least five thick inches long.
She instantly wondered just how big Fātimah Al Zohrah could get.
Her eyes soaked me in for a few seconds, before she tossed me the towel she had draped over her shoulder.
“Dry yourself off, big Durgesh darling,” Fātimah Al Zohrah said, shocking herself with the ‘big’ comment.
She turned and walked to the kitchen, but had to sit down as her head was spinning.
Allah! Yā Allah!
So, it was the unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund every mb she knew was crazy for?
Well, now Fātimah Al Zohrah herself was.
She couldn’t resist the temptation.
How lucky her extremely beautiful ovn ardent Musalmān girlfriends were!
They were already enjoying the unique miracle.
Damn you Fātimah Al Zohrah.
You are the bloody loser.
Do you realize now?
He isn’t only the best in humanity.
He is really best in sex too.*
Before I left that evening, we shared an uncomfortable silence.
She tried to touch my Uncut Hindu Penis but I tactfully dodged her every time.
“I want to feel what I saw.”
“That’s not for you. That’s for your Ammī.”
“You can’t keep away from me.”
No sooner was I out the door; Fātimah Al Zohrah was on her bed, frantically rubbing herself off.
She could not get the image of my thick Uncut Hindu Lund out of her head.
But Fātimah Al Zohrah was also thrilled by her audacity at making me open the door before her prying eyes.
Fātimah Al Zohrah came over and over again, imagining my hard Uncut Hindu Lund buried deep inside her now aggressive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt .
Fātimah Al Zohrah was considered quite attractive with a wonderful female Musalmān body.
Yet suddenly Fātimah Al Zohrah felt like she was losing control, in spite of her earlier bravado.
For whatever reason, Fātimah Al Zohrah could not get my image out of her head and wanted to please me more than anything Fātimah Al Zohrah had ever done in her life.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was surprised when her phone rang the next morning from her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā’s cell phone.
She said Grammy was feeling better.
Consequently she wanted to help out with the house like before.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had dressed in a subtly sexy outfit for her benefit.
She quickly retreated to her room to change before her Ammī saw what Fātimah Al Zohrah was wearing.
After her car pulled in, they both exited.
Ammī came to her and gave her a big hug.
Kħadījah Al Kubrā held Fātimah Al Zohrah and whimpered in her ear,
“Grammy sends her love.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt bad that she had barely thought of Gram given everything else that has going on, but held her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, tight as Fātimah Al Zohrah knew how much it meant to her.
I stayed back deliberately.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had already tried to grab my Uncut Hindu Penis so many times that I didn’t want to provide the younger Musalmān Beauty another opportunity.
It was not easy to control myself.
Every time Fātimah Al Zohrah tried to grab my Uncut Hindu Penis, it not only hardened immediately, it started to lengthen and thicken as well.
I didn’t want her to experience this incredible miraculous quality of my uhc.
It could make her crazier.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wondered if I was so afraid of her that I felt the need to bring a chaperone.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was suddenly horrified.
Did Fātimah Al Zohrah go too far the day before?
Showing me her breasts was over the top, but demanding to see my Uncut Hindu Lund was in another stratosphere altogether.
Fātimah Al Zohrah prayed I didn’t tell her Ammī about what had happened.
We painted in silence for most of the morning while her Ammī worked indoors.
Slowly Fātimah Al Zohrah moved her way closer to me.
Never before in her life had Fātimah Al Zohrah been more aggressive.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wasn’t sure what to say, but finally a few self-conscience words softly escaped her mouth,
“Sorry if you felt the need for a chaperone today.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah was waiting with baited breath for my response.
She didn’t leave me hanging long.
She leaned in and said quietly,
“After what happened between us yesterday, I think you need a chaperone from me, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! ”
I stared into her eyes,
“Sālī, méré Uncut Hindu Lund kī bhūkhī.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah laughed,
“That’s better, mérī jān.”
She grabbed my Uncut Hindu Lund this time successfully and squeezed it significantly.
“Very proud of it? Aren’t you?”
“Shut up and leave it.”
“Fātimah Al Zohrah, I say…”
“Why the hell you still say? Show some action, you teaser.”
“I promise to give you more pleasure than my Ammī is giving you.”
“I mean it.”
“Find someone else more competent for you.”
“I’ve already. You are the most competent man for me too as well as for my Ammī.”
“Kħadījah Al Kubrā would kill you.”
“Why are you shameless?”
“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot. And everything is fair in love and war.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah was still holding my Uncut Hindu Lund and now playing with it too.
“What’s it? Love or war?”
“Both. Love with you and war with you to get it.”
“Bābarah Åālamgīr is your friend I think.” I smiled.
“You are right.”
“I’ve heard her telling you that she is also trying to change our relationship.”
“Entire womankind doesn’t have another relationship with you except what I’m holding in my hand.”
“Shame on you.”
“Despite your verbal rejection of me, your Uncut Hindu Lund has accepted me fully. It’s growing in my hand, don’t you feel?”
“That’s normal. You are extremely beautiful. I can’t help it. My physical normal reactions are naturally beyond my control.”
“Let me suck you.”
“Hell, leave me you ever untired seductress.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah laughed, winked at me lewdly and let go of me.
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
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