It was just terrifying when Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, caught him surfing for ashvinātam porn.
Muħammad thought she was asleep in bed and Muħammad was indulging himself as usual in front of his desktop computer.
But for some reason Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, got up.
Muħammad didn’t hear her come into the study behind him until it was too late.
“And what exactly do you think you are doing?” Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, said.
Muħammad thought he was going to faint.
The blood rushed to his head and Muħammad panicked, pressing every key he could find.
But the video just wouldn’t go away.
She was on her back, legs wide apart, massaging her Musalmān clit.
“DON’T!” Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, shouted “Leave it alone. I want to see what turns you on these days Muħammad, while even I can’t, you impotent.”
“Look, I’m sorry…” Muħammad stammered “I just wanted to…”
“Oh shut up” Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, said, “Don’t start telling lies as well.”
I was thrusting into the Musalmān lady now, wobbling her huge Musalmān boobs and making her gasp with my each Hindu poke.
“Durgesh is quite a lot bigger than you. Isn’t he, Muħammad?” Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, said. “Don’t you wish you had an actual Lund like that, not your immensely incompetent cut Musalmān nūnī?”
Feeling immensely humiliated by his own extremely beautiful extremely sexy Musalmān wife, Muħammad didn’t say anything.
He never understood why most of the Musalmān Beauties were ever sexiest.
He had to acknowledge, at least to himself now, that Musalmān Beauties were actually right after all.
Sooner or later, ultimately, every Musalmān male would realize this cold and hard fact.
Moreover the Musalmān males are losing their maleness fastest nowadays.
They are turning into bisexuals and even in gays.
Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, sometimes taunted him about his lack of sexual prowess.
Well, most of the Musalmīn were suffering from the same shame and humiliation.
Hindus never refused to them.
Moreover, why should they?
Commissioner of Police Shrīkānt Joshī lacked Y-chromosomes to the extent that he couldn’t give his wife, Dr. Sabīħah Åbbās Hāshmī even a single son.
She gave birth to thirteen extremely beautiful Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ daughters.
Shubhrā Joshī was the eldest of them.
She was married to Vinīt Sharmā.
It was a tragedy that despite the fact Vinīt Sharmā had Y-chromosomes too, he couldn’t give any son to his extremely beautiful Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ wife Shubhrā Joshī.
He gave three extremely beautiful daughters to her.
Dr. Abhilāshā Sharmā PhD 28, Vinītā Sharmā 26 and Padmā Sharmā 24.
But no son at all.
There is a saying that, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Vinīt Sharmā believed it’s true.
Vinīt Sharmā had always tried to do what was right.
Vinīt Sharmā had always lived by the Golden Rule:
‘Treat people how you want to be treated.’
Those are Vinīt Sharmā’s words to live by.
Vinīt Sharmā himself had always tried his best to live that way.
Yet, why is living a good life so fucking hard?
Vinīt Sharmā had never messed anyone over.
He never said a mean word to anyone.
Even if they were wrong, Vinīt Sharmā always presented the facts to them in a pleasant way.
When Vinīt Sharmā was wrong, Vinīt Sharmā admitted he was wrong, without any delay whatsoever or pretence.
In other words, when Vinīt Sharmā was presented with a problem he took the high road.
Vinīt Sharmā was just living Vinīt Sharmā’s life, oblivious to any warning signs, when it happened.
It was a life-changing event, however, when it happened.
Vinīt Sharmā had just come home from a two-day conference in Texas when Vinīt Sharmā was blindsided by his wife.
Shubhrā Joshī, the aforementioned ‘wife’, and their daughters were sitting around the kitchen table.
They were laughing and joking around.
When Vinīt Sharmā asked,
“What’s so funny?” the mood changed almost immediately.
Shubhrā Joshī didn’t ask, she told Vinīt Sharmā:
“Vinīt Sharmā, why don’t you take a seat?”
He was not sure he was right or not but he suspected Shubhrā Joshī said ‘Vinīt’ and ‘Sharmā’ both, sarcastically.
Vinīt Sharmā suspected she was as if trying to humiliate him on his own name even.
Vinīt Sharmā sat down and she waved a set of papers around in Vinīt Sharmā’s face.
“Vinīt Sharmā, take these papers and read them. I am not asking for anything but the house. There are also adoption papers in there. I want Durgesh to adopt the daughters. I know you’ll want the best for them, so just sign it and we’ll move on,” Shubhrā Joshī informed Vinīt Sharmā, cool as a cucumber.
Vinīt Sharmā’s wife of twelve years had just presented him with the paperwork for a divorce, and adoption forms for Vinīt Sharmā’s three daughters!
Vinīt Sharmā’s eldest daughter Abhilāshā Sharmā looked at Vinīt Sharmā with a little smirk on her face.
Abhilāshā Sharmā was twenty-eight years old and a PhD already.
Vinīt Sharmā loved her very much.
But Abhilāshā Sharmā never understood Vinīt Sharmā.
Abhilāshā Sharmā never treated Vinīt Sharmā respectfully.
She charged Vinīt Sharmā that he was an unsuccessful husband as well as an unsuccessful father too.
Vinītā Sharmā, Vinīt Sharmā’s second daughter, twenty-six years old, didn’t even bother to look at Vinīt Sharmā.
She was too busy listening to her IPod to feel anything about losing her father.
Padmā Sharmā, Vinīt Sharmā’s twenty four-year-old, youngest daughter was the only one who had anything to say.
“Daddy, Durgesh is a multi-zillionaire. He had the biggest house. Mom loves Durgesh very much and we like him,” Padmā Sharmā explained, as if that would somehow make everything ‘all better.’
Vinīt Sharmā just sat there looking at Shubhrā Joshī and the daughters as if they were crazy.
Maybe it’s PMS or early menopause, Vinīt Sharmā thought.
Maybe this Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ bitch was bipolar.
Maybe she’s high or drunk.
Nah — Vinīt Sharmā doesn’t smell any alcohol on her breath.
So where is this divorce shit coming from?
Shubhrā Joshī finally dropped the papers on the counter, and handed Vinīt Sharmā a check for half of the money in their bank accounts.
“Daughters, take your dad’s bags to his truck,” demanded Shubhrā Joshī. Un-fucking-believable! They had packed Vinīt Sharmā’s bags before he got home and then laid in wait before they moved in for the kill.
“Shubhrā Joshī, do you think I was going someplace?” Vinīt Sharmā asked with a slightly menacing tone.
“You’re moving out Vinīt Sharmā, hadn’t you been listening?” replied Shubhrā Joshī.
“Shubhrā Joshī, this is my family’s house. My parents told me I could live here long before we got married. Vinīt Sharmā don’t recall your name being on anything tied to this house. Vinīt Sharmā don’t know what had happened to make you want a divorce, but you’re never going to take my parent’s house. You can leave, but I am staying in this house!” Vinīt Sharmā shouted.
Shubhrā Joshī rolled her extremely beautiful Brāhmañ eyes and realizing that she couldn’t win that one, changed her orders and yelled at the daughters to pack their bags.
They would have to change their plans and go to Durgesh’s house.
“Shubhrā Joshī, who in the fuck is Durgesh between us?” Vinīt Sharmā finally had the chance to ask.
“Vinīt Sharmā, you’re a fucking moron; Durgesh is the man who had been fucking the shit out of me while your dumb ass is at work,” said Shubhrā Joshī.
Shubhrā Joshī wasn’t guilty or remorseful.
She showed nothing but disrespect and contempt for Vinīt Sharmā.
Vinīt Sharmā looked at his daughters for their support.
Abhilāshā Sharmā just told her younger sisters to hurry up.
“Dad,” said Vinīt Sharmā’s daughter, Abhilāshā Sharmā, “Durgesh can give us a better life. Besides Mom loves him and so do we.”
Vinīt Sharmā’s other daughters nodded their heads in agreement.
Vinīt Sharmā stood up, walked to the door and opened it.
They all headed towards Shubhrā Joshī’s car.
Shubhrā Joshī and the daughters looked back at Vinīt Sharmā and all of them — the daughters as well as Shubhrā Joshī — flipped him the bird.
Vinīt Sharmā was beyond pissed; Vinīt Sharmā had worked his ass off for this family and they dumped him for a Bachhalyā with money?
Vinīt Sharmā did what any normal man would do.
He got stinking drunk.
He ended up passed out face down on the laundry room floor.
He understood it was all because Shubhrā Joshī had to get Durgesh’s political support.
UPA II government had failed miserably.
They passed ‘Lokpal Bill’(?) with simple majority but failed it to provide constitutional status.
Shubhrā Joshī was a Congress MP as Vinīt Sharmā himself was.
She was smart enough to go with the winner now.
For the first time in Vinīt Sharmā’s life, Vinīt Sharmā hated somebody.
Vinīt Sharmā hated this ‘Durgesh’ guy with a passion.
But more than him, Vinīt Sharmā hated Vinīt Sharmā’s own family.
He realized that it wasn’t all Durgesh only.
Vinīt Sharmā’s so-called family had chosen to betray Vinīt Sharmā.
Once Vinīt Sharmā had sobered up the next morning, he cleaned himself up, went online and found a lawyer.
Vinīt Sharmā made an appointment for the next day at noon.
They loved him so much, Vinīt Sharmā figured, Vinīt Sharmā would give them what they asked for.
Vinīt Sharmā’s attorney looked over the agreement and told Vinīt Sharmā to sign it before Shubhrā Joshī changed her mind.
Vinīt Sharmā signed it and Vinīt Sharmā’s lawyer sent it back.
Shubhrā Joshī didn’t even ask for child support.
She didn’t need it at all.
The suspected he was the ever richest, ever wealthiest one, perhaps, of entire human history until now.
‘Durgesh the greatest,’ they called him, ‘na bhūto na bhavishyati’.
In the blink of an eye, with the stroke of a pen, Vinīt Sharmā no longer had a wife or daughters.
Vinīt Sharmā’s family threw Vinīt Sharmā away like some day-old bread.
So much for staying together until the daughters leave or dreams of growing old together.
Six months later the divorce became final.
Everything changes with time and so did Vinīt Sharmā.
Vinīt Sharmā threw himself into his work.
Vinīt Sharmā went back to college and got his Master’s degree, then a PhD.
Vinīt Sharmā was now Dr. Vinīt Sharmā, Ph.D, CPA.
He knew most people find accounting to be boring but then again, so was Vinīt Sharmā’s life.
Somehow, accounting was just Vinīt Sharmā’s style.
Vinīt Sharmā decided to open up his own office.
It was a boutique operation that provided personalized attention to high-net-worth clients.***
So, Musalmīn were not alone.
Sālī his wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
They always blame Musalmīn only for giving them daughters mostly.
Why don’t they acknowledge that even Hindus are not very much far behind in the matter?
Commissioner of Police, Shrīkānt Joshī, is not one of the ever abused ‘terrorist'(?), criminal(?), criminal minded(?), backward(?), inhuman(?) Musalmīn.
Isn’t he a Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ?
Then what about his thirteen extremely beautiful sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ daughters?
Didn’t Dr. Sabīħah Åbbās Hāshmī MBBS marry Commissioner of Police, Shrīkānt Joshī, to avoid such an occurrence?
‘Muddåī lakh burā chāhé to kyā hotā hai?
Wohī hotā hai, jo manzūr-e-Kħudā hotā hai.’
Even Commissioner of Police Shrīkānt Joshī failed to give any son to Dr. Sabīħah Åbbās Hāshmī MBBS.
‘Namāz bakħshwāné gaī thīen, ulŧé rozé gale pađé.’
Thirteen Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ daughters.
Yet this had the effect of making Muħammad lose his erection quite often, which just made matters worse.
“She’s enjoying that. Isn’t she?” Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, went on. “I wonder if he’ll give her a little Hindu son.”
That was another taunt directed at Muħammad.
They didn’t have children.
They never found out why, because they weren’t that keen to be parents anyway but she always hinted that it was Muħammad.
“I suppose you were having a wank, were you?” Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, said.
“No, I was just…” Muħammad replied.
“Shut up Muħammad, you disgust me.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah interrupted. “Now I’m going back to bed and I suggest you find another bed in this house for tonight.”
Well Muħammad was shaking after that episode.
He helped himself to a large whiskey and then went off to the spare bedroom.
But Muħammad had to admit he didn’t get much sleep.
Moreover, after that roasting, Muħammad seriously thought his wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, would divorce him.
Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, was scary.
She hadn’t always been scary.
She was really quite meek and mild when Muħammad married her.
Muħammad seduced her in a tent on holiday.
She let Muħammad do all sorts of things and what’s more, she did whatever Muħammad asked!
But for the last eleven years she’s had a high powered job as Human Resources Manager with this big company in town and now she really thinks she’s the big cheese.
Muħammad heard that the staff called her “The Bitch“.
To be fair she looked the part, tall, short dark hair, quite a hard face, but sort of pretty too.
Every day she wore a short black dress to work.
She had a whole wardrobe of them.
His wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, did look spectacular in those black dresses.
The summer dresses in particular were quite low cut which showed off her magnificent pair of boobs and all the dresses were slim fitting which leaves you in no doubt about her figure.
She did a long course on Interview Technique some years ago and being questioned by her is something like being in a torture chamber.
One of his mates called her a stuck up bitch.
Muħammad wasn’t supposed to hear that but Muħammad did, and what he said didn’t really surprised Muħammad.
There was a good joke —
‘What is the difference between a Musalmān slut and a Musalmān bitch? A Musalmān slut is a Musalmān girl who will sleep with any Hindu and a Musalmān bitch is a Musalmān slut who won’t sleep with you, only because you are a Musalmān!’
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah and Muħammad’s relationship had gone downhill over the last few years or at least Muħammad thought it had.
They had sex once a week, on Saturday evenings.
She just let Muħammad take off her nightdress and fuck her.
That was about it really.
As Muħammad himself said,
“I’m not a great performer in the bedroom, but that is mostly because of her attitude. Well, I’m a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān, not a bloody sexy Hindu who can’t think anything without intermingling sex in it.”
Yet Muħammad also had to confess that Muħammad probably couldn’t perform at all without the little blue pill.
Muħammad started taking those pills a year or two ago and they were fantastic!
So when Muħammad got her nightdress off and looked at her beautiful naked Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body Muħammad got really hard and it didn’t collapse on Muħammad until Muħammad had had his wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
But without the blue pills, things don’t always work out for Muħammad.
Relationships were distinctly frosty for some weeks after the video episode.
Whilst Muħammad was permitted back into the martial bed, sex on Saturdays was completely off the menu.
It was a Saturday morning when his computer went down.
Muħammad was just about to send an important email to a business colleague in Hong Kong when it just died on him.
Right, what to do?
He knew, he had to use his wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s laptop, the one she took to work every day.
She was out shopping so he couldn’t ask her permission.
Muħammad just turned it on and soon Muħammad had his email away.
Muħammad didn’t know why, but then Muħammad opened Internet Explorer and clicked on history.
Allah, yā Allah!! The silly Musalmān cow didn’t know about deleting history, did she?
There were all these sites, and every one of them was Ashvinātam.
Muħammad did a search next “*.jpeg”.
And all these photos came up.
Jeez! One after another, there were hundreds!
What’s more there were three videos, and one of them was the very video Muħammad had been watching when Kħadījah Al Tāhirah caught Muħammad!
Well Muħammad was truly shocked by that!
Carefully Muħammad put her laptop back exactly, where it had been.
Yet he wondered what to do with his discovery.
Should Muħammad confront her?
Maybe Muħammad should arrange himself it.
Only Kħadījah Al Tāhirah never approved of it.
But if she enjoyed it so much on internet, why not in reality?
Who is capable in stopping her?
Muħammad decided to do nothing and to think about it.
So Muħammad was careful not to mention anything at all.
That might let on that Muħammad had ever used her laptop, or that Muħammad knew anything about her little obsession.
Every now and then Muħammad checked up on her and sure enough, the library of Durgesh’s ashvinātam fucking pics was growing.
Muħammad was staggered.
Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, was into Durgesh’s Ashvinātam porn!
How wrong he was.
Allah, yā Allah!
After a couple of months, Muħammad finally plucked up enough courage to get her nightdress off one Saturday evening.
But all the time he kept thinking about what she really wanted.
Looking down at her beautiful naked Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body while his cut Musalmān nūnī slipped in and out of her neatly trimmed bush, his imagination went wild thinking about how she might react to having Durgesh in bed with her and what they would do together.
Then Muħammad began seriously to think about how Muħammad could fix something with me.
Muħammad knew that if Muħammad suggested anything to her it just wouldn’t work.
There would be denials and she would just explode.
Anyway, Muħammad would have to confess that Muħammad had been using her laptop.
Of course, Muħammad knew straight away, whom Muħammad could ask.
It would have to be Fātimah, his daughter.
Durgesh loved to fuck Muħammad’s extremely beautiful youngest daughter Fātimah everywhere openly.
Muħammad’s extremely beautiful youngest daughter Fātimah was an exhibitionist feminist.
She could easily offer him her own extremely beautiful Ammī, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Of course, there was the small problem for Muħammad of how to ask Durgesh if he wanted to fuck Muħammad’s wife, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah!
But Muħammad’s extremely beautiful youngest daughter Fātimah could easily offer her extremely beautiful Ammī, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, to Durgesh, claiming her Abbū, Muħammad, couldn’t satisfy her Ammī.
Durgesh should take care of her Ammī too as he was taking care of Muħammad’s extremely beautiful youngest daughter Fātimah, sexually.***
He can project his infinite bodies.
“Nonsense,” Muħammad had shouted, “Are you crazy? How is it possible?”
I laughed fucking Muħammad’s extremely beautiful youngest daughter Fātimah in her Abbū’s very presence.
I still find it hard to believe that this actually happened.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I had been Living in Relationship about two years now when she got pregnant.
I tried to stop her,
“So what?” Shubhrā Joshī interrupted.
“Dīdī, he thinks I can’t afford to be a mother now.”
“Durgesh darling,” Shubhrā Joshī smiled at me, “she is thirty already. Let her give birth to your son now. It’s the perfect age to be habitual to be a mother.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed,
“To be habitual to be a mother? Allah, Dīdī, how many children do you think I want to have?”
Shubhrā Joshī smiled,
“Well, your Kħālājān, my Ammī, Sabīħah Åbbās Hāshmī, has thirteen daughters. Hasn’t she?”
“You haven’t any brother at all?”
“You are Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Kħālāzād cousin?”
“Allah, Hey Bhagvān, you didn’t know?”
“Sorry,” I laughed, “I’d forgotten.”
“It’s all right,” Shubhrā Joshī cooed, “I can understand.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not a Musalmān Beauty.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed,
“Hey, Dīdī, you are attacking your younger sister.”
I also laughed,
“Brāhmañ Beauties are more sophisticated.”
“You Musalmān Beauties are sexier.” I winked at her.
Shubhrā Joshī owned a nice two-bedroom condo in a small town outside Boston.
It was a gift to her from her multi-millionaire Ammī, Sabīħah Åbbās Hāshmī.
Due to some complications, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was bedridden for the last three months of her pregnancy and had to be watched carefully.
When it came time for the baby to be born the doctor checked her in early so they could try to control her delivery.
Around the time she was about to go to the hospital, her folks offered to drive up from their home in Ved Nagar and stay with us to help out until Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan felt up to taking care of herself.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan jumped at the offer.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s folks have always been great to her and were a pleasure to have around.
They were always there for their kids when they needed them.
Shubhrā Joshī’s Ammī, Sabīħah Åbbās Hāshmī, was an utmost successful medical doctor.
She made Shubhrā Joshī a more successful medical doctor herself.
So getting away for a while wouldn’t be a problem for them.
The cause of all that happened started when Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan first developed these complications and had to be confined to our bedroom.
Along with this came the orders of no sex for the duration, from Shubhrā Joshī, her Kħālāzād cousin and her medical doctor, of course.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I had not had a very active sex life lately.
Not to brag, I have a very abnormal high sex drive and I need to get some every day.
We weren’t getting along too well, fighting and bickering, as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was constantly bringing Jet Musalmān Beauties in my sex life more and more, trying even to replace my mature Musalmān Beauties.
But neither of us was willing to part however.
It was a great comfort to me that despite her other differences of opinions with me Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was an ardent One Man Woman.
So Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thought having a baby might help.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had some attributes one can’t ignore.
When we first started going together the sex was great, but what I really fell in love with was just how sweet she was along with being one of the sexiest Jet Musalmān Beauties.
Then as time went on, things went a bit sour, so when she got pregnant we thought it might force us to work on our Live in Relationship.
I was left with Kħālidah Yåqūb to reduce the tension.
Even extremely beautiful Musalmān girls just seemed to like me.
And once they got to know me they wouldn’t leave me alone.
But now here I was, three months without any nonstop real sex!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s folks arrived the night before Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was going to the hospital and it was real nice having them here.
They helped get Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ready for the next day and Shubhrā Joshī cooked a great meal for everyone.
I took Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan in the next morning and spent the day with her, getting her settled.
The doctor explained that they were going to induce her slowly to try and control her delivery.
She told us that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan would probably deliver in 48 hours, but they would be monitoring her progress the whole time.
I could go home and they would call me if she got close when I wasn’t there.
I left to go home for supper and told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan I would be back in the morning.
I had a nice dinner with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s folks, watched some TV and headed off to bed.
Once I stretched out and felt the cool sheets caress my Uncut Hindu Dick I began to get hard and realized I needed relief.
Kħālidah Yåqūb yanked on my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
Even then I woke the next morning about as horny as ever and it seemed my sex session with Kħālidah Yåqūb was only making matters worse.
Kħālidah Yåqūb was good, but she was not as sexy as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was.
Kħālidah Yåqūb was more ardent a Musalmān than she was sexy.
I put on a pair of long shorts and the way the fabric inside brushed against my Uncut Hindu Dick only inflamed me even further!
“Oh honey, I didn’t know you were up already. I would have gotten up earlier and made you some breakfast.” she said.
“It’s OK Shubhrā Joshī, don’t worry about it. Where’s Vinīt Sharmā, your ever moral husband?” I asked.
“He went to buy a paper, he’ll be back soon. Can I make you some breakfast?” she asked.
“Sure, that would be great.” I said and watched her move around the kitchen.
I noticed for the first time that my Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law, Shubhrā Joshī, had a nice figure that her thin robe couldn’t disguise.
Even at her forty-four, she had full, round, tits that seemed to just sag a bit under their own weight, a small waistline with just a hint of a slight bulge at her stomach, a nice, round, Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ ass and long, tapered legs.
It must have been due to my lack of extraordinary sex, but I became mesmerized watching her move about the room, retrieving things from the refrigerator.
Her tits were bouncing and her excellent exquisite Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ ass was swaying under her robe.
I had never in my life thought of Shubhrā Joshī as any kind of sexual object, but in a blink of an eye it all changed!
At one point, she bent down to get a pan out of the cabinet and her robe parted across her leg, her nightie riding up her legs, exposing her creamy white thigh.
My Bachhalyā Hindu Lund lurched in my pants and began to swell as Shubhrā Joshī remained in that position, trying to find the right pan, with me being unable to tear my eyes away from her bare leg!
She got frustrated in her search and stood for a Moment.
And then Shubhrā Joshī bent over to continue her hunt, causing her robe to ride up the back of her legs and stretch tightly across her round glorious sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ ass!
This sight caused my aroused Bachhalyā Hindu Lund to go into overdrive and quickly rise to its full length, hard as a steel bar.
I was overwhelmed by conflicting feelings of recognizing this woman as my Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law, Shubhrā Joshī, the woman I had known all my life and had never considered as anything but that.
She was my loving respectable elder Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law.
Shubhrā Joshī was fourteen years elder to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
But now I was confronted with this sudden, irresistible, reaction I was having to her as a desirable sophisticated extremely attractive Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ Beauty!
I had seen her prepare breakfast in this exact same way, dressed in this exact same way and never felt an inkling of what I felt at this Moment!
I thought I must be losing my mind, but I couldn’t stop watching her as my pulse began to race and my body heat started to rise.
I found my breath shorten as my Hindu male hormones went into overdrive and I was overcome with lust for my respectable elder Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law, Shubhrā Joshī!
I was reeling in a sexual intoxication as I watched her move to the stove, taking in every little jiggle beneath her robe.
My heart was racing and the hair on my arms was standing up as I started to imagine the feel of her soft skin against mine.
I couldn’t sit there anymore and got up to take my cup to the sink, quickly realizing my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund was fully erect and pushing out the front of my shorts.
I reached inside and readjusted it as best I could so it would lie back against my stomach, the wide elastic waistband helping to hold it in place.
My intention was to get out of that room and get to my bedroom where I could get some relief with Kħālidah Yåqūb once more.
The kitchen was a galley style with a square at the end for a table and chairs.
As I made my way by my Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law, Shubhrā Joshī, there was not a lot of space since there are cabinets and counters on either side.
In the process of going by her she suddenly seemed to have a problem setting the burner, said something under her breath and then leaned over the stove to get a better look.
In bending over she sent her round glorious sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ ass right into my inflamed Bachhalyā Hindu crotch and I could feel my hard Bachhalyā Hindu Lund briefly become enveloped into the crevice of her excellent exquisite Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ ass cheeks!
This had the same effect on me as when a dentist hits a nerve as a shiver went up my spine and my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund lurched in my pants.
I didn’t get a chance to savor the feeling as she quickly straightened out and half turned to face me.
“Oh, sorry Durgesh, hon! I didn’t see you back there!” she smiled innocently.
But in the condition I was in, I doubted she smiled cunningly instead, not innocently.
As we think so we see?
I wasn’t sure.
“It’s o.k. Shubhrā Joshī.” I lied. “You got a problem, darling?” I tried to compose myself and seem interested in helping her.
“My dear Bachhalyā Jījū, it’s your stove. I can’t seem to get the setting right on the burner” Shubhrā Joshī complained.
Shubhrā Joshī didn’t call me ‘Jījū’ only.
She called me Bachhalyā Jījū.
Was it significant to attract my attention towards the historical fact that Bachhalyās were brought into existence by Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī to take care of Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs even, sexually?
She brought Bachhalyās into existence and managed not only Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu, but the entire Brahmarshis even, to support her in declaring then Brāhmañs incompetent husbands for entire Brahmkanyās and Brāhmañs too.
I was not sure.
But I was also not sure that Shubhrā Joshī was not intimating it, as well.
“Yea, we have the same problem, let me show you.” I said as we both turned toward the stove.
We were practically cheek to cheek as I showed her how to adjust the stove to any temperature she wanted.
As she watched my hands on the control dial closely, I let my eyes wander down my Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law, Shubhrā Joshī’s neck and chest until I caught an eyeful of her Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ cleavage from her billowing nightgown and robe.
Her tits were round and succulent, covered in freckles and they rose and fell with her breathing.
I could almost see the beginning of her areolas and nipples, but they remained hidden against the material of her nightie.
My eyes retraced their trail up her chest and came to rest on her exposed neck.
It was long and graceful even though it showed her age somewhat.
I wanted to bury my nose up against it and ram my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund, Bachhalyā Lund, between the crease of her round glorious sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ ass!
Somewhere deep within my stupor I heard her say “Thanks, hon” and look at me. I sophisticatedly refocused on her face.
“You know Shubhrā Joshī, you smell really good, what are you wearing’, darling?” I asked.
“Why? Nothing. I haven’t even showered yet.” she replied with a somewhat puzzled look on her face.
“Really?” I asked. “I could have sworn I could detect something really nice.” I said as I let my face drop to the area of her neck just below her ear.
I took a deep breath and filled my senses with Shubhrā Joshī’s wonderful sophisticated miraculously young Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ odor, lost in a world of wantonness.
“Durgesh, what are you doing???” she asked, with a bit of annoyance in her voice.
I didn’t answer, but kept on nuzzling her neck as I brought my hands up and rested them on her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ buttocks.
I felt all reason leave me as I began to follow my nose with small kisses up and down her neck
“Durgesh, stop it right now, this isn’t funny!!” she yelled pulling her neck away from my face.
“Oh…Uhh..sure…” I said and broke away reluctantly. “I… ah… better get ready to go see Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.”
Once inside I stripped quickly, my rock-hard Bachhalyā Hindu Lund twitching and swaying.
I made my way into the bathroom and quickly turned on the shower.
Once under the spray, I soaped up my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund and jerked it urgently to the thoughts of Shubhrā Joshī’s warm, pliant Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ body pressed against mine.
As my thoughts turned to the feel of her thick, soft extremely beautiful Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ lips on mine I closed my eyes and enjoyed the fantasy very much.
I recovered in a short while and got out, drying off and getting dressed.
I made my way out of the house and to the hospital.
I spent the entire morning and early afternoon with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, mostly watching TV until I couldn’t feel myself in the chair.
I told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan at this point I needed to go and said goodbye.
I left the hospital and went to the mall where I fucked a lot of extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties.
Yet it did nothing for my condition.
I couldn’t believe I had tried to put a move on my respectable elder Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law!
Just thinking about it gave me discomfort.
I spent as much time as I could at the mall before I made my way home.
Shubhrā Joshī was making supper in the kitchen as Vinīt Sharmā watched the tube.
She looked at me with a quizzical face and moved away.
I watched her move about the kitchen, dying to get back next to her and press myself up against her.
She stopped at the counter and continued with breakfast.
I slowly moved towards her and settled in front of her.
“Uh, Shubhrā Joshī…I’m sorry…I just miss you…” I lied comfortably.
She looked at me for a Moment and seemed to melt right before me.
“Oh honey! I’m sorry! C’mere!” she said, opening her arms in a request for a hug.
I stepped forward, took her into my arms and wrapped my arms around her waist, intoxicated by the feel of her soft Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ frame meshing against mine in a tight Bachhalyā Brahmāñī embrace.
I turned my hips away from her to avoid her feeling my ram-hard intensely sexy Bachhalyā Lund.
“I miss you too!” she murmured as she ran her fingers through my hair.
The Sālī was teasing me deliberately and enjoying my Bachhalyā hardness for her very much.
No doubt at all.
I buried my face into the crook of her neck again, taking in her scent.
Why shouldn’t I myself enjoy too?
“I love you Shubhrā Joshī, I love you so much.” I breathed and then planted a soft, lingering kiss on the base of her neck.
“Oh, Durgesh! I love you too!” she responded, pulling me closer to her as she continued to stroke my head.
I planted a series of kisses along her neck, caressing it with my nose.
“Uhmmm, it’s been so long since I’ve had the chance to hold you like this,” Shubhrā Joshī said dreamingly as she subconsciously tilted her head, exposing more of her neck to my becoming stronger Bachhalyā kisses.
I became a bit more ardent with my kisses, parting my mouth and lightly sucking at her neck as I moved up and down.
I reached the tip of her chin and glanced up at her, seeing that she had closed her extremely beautiful Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ eyes and had a contented smile on her lips.
I moved in slowly and pressed my lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss.
“Mmmmm!” Shubhrā Joshī moaned in a pleasant way as our Bachhalyā Brahmāñī lips met and pressed gently together.
I had forgotten how soft and supple my Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law, Shubhrā Joshī’s lips were and the feel of them pressed to mine nearly caused me to cum in my pants!
She allowed the kiss to linger a few Moments before she peeled them apart and pulled my head back into the crook of her neck.
“Eehhmmmm, you’re rather affectionate this evening.” Shubhrā Joshī giggled as she rubbed the back of my neck with one hand.
“I, uh, just like being loved again.” I said as I went back to planting small kisses at the base of her neck.
“Ohhhh! Vinīt Sharmā would be jealous of you.” Shubhrā Joshī moaned in a sympathetic tone. “Well, nevertheless, anytime you need it, Bachhalyā Jījū. I’m right here. Only remember, I’m NOT Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I’m Shubhrā Joshī.”
“Uhmmmm!” Shubhrā Joshī moaned as I wandered up her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.
As I hit a spot halfway up her neck, I felt her tense up, realizing I had hit a nerve.
I pressed in a bit harder, opening my mouth wider and flicking my tongue against this spot.
“Ohhhh…Durgesh…I..think we had better..stop…..” Shubhrā Joshī moaned and gently struggled against my Bachhalyā embrace.
I ignored her and continued to kiss and suck at this area with even more urgency.
“UHHHHhhhhhhh!” Shubhrā Joshī moaned, still fidgeting against me, yet at the same time resting her chin on the top of my head, opening more of her neck to my kiss.
I moved up on her neck, lingering at each spot long enough to emit a moan from her as I kissed and sucked at it.
“Uhhhhh….D…..Durgesh…..uh…I…. think….we….we…should…..ohhhhhh!” she moaned, half fighting me and at the same time entangling her hand in my hair, pulling my Bachhalyā(?) mouth tighter into her neck.
I reached her jaw line and planted wet, open-mouthed kisses along it, aided by Shubhrā Joshī’s unintentional reaction of lifting her head.
As I came to her chin, I kissed it gently, flicking my tongue against the cute cleft that is a family trait.
Shubhrā Joshī’s eyes were mostly closed and her excellent exquisite sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ body was in a battle between pushing me away and pulling me closer.
Her excellent exquisite sophisticated red crimson Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ lips were parted, struggling to bring air into her lungs, as she emitted a constant, low moan.
I moved my Bachhalyā lips towards hers, watching for a reaction that never came.
I touched her excellent exquisite sophisticated red crimson Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ lips with mine, barely making contact, feeling her fragrant sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ breath brush against them.
I slowly pressed my Bachhalyā lips gently against hers, holding them there and then slowly pulling them apart.
Shubhrā Joshī had no reaction, as her parted lips hovered close to mine.
I moved back in and pressed my lips against hers again, sealing them in a soft, illicit kiss.
“Mmmmm,” Shubhrā Joshī moaned as I gently pressed my lips against hers, slowly applying a bit more pressure.
She stopped struggling as her hands slid down from my neck and quietly landed on my arms.
I began to notice a change in Shubhrā Joshī’s reaction, her excellent exquisite sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ body, which had been tense, relaxed a little under my Bachhalyā embrace as her excellent exquisite sophisticated red crimson Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ lips seemed to soften under my historically well-known celebrated renowned illustrious legendary excellent exquisite Bachhalyā Brahmāñī kiss.
Her fragrant sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ breathing steadied and her eyelids gave up their fight and closed, while all tension in her frame eased off.
Her head seemed to relent to the movement of my historically well-known celebrated renowned illustrious legendary excellent exquisite Bachhalyā Brahmāñī kiss!
Under her fragrant sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ breath came quiet, soft moaning and I could feel her start to ever so lightly kiss me back!
Her excellent exquisite sophisticated Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ body was gently pressed to mine and I could feel her hardened nipples brush against me as her round tits snuggled slightly against my Bachhalyā chest.
I wanted her as badly as I’ve wanted any woman in my life and I knew now there was no doubt I was going to fuck her, my own Shubhrā Joshī!!
Well, why not?
Sorry, Vinīt Sharmā.
But my dear friend, I’m not raping your sophisticated MBBS wife.
I’m only winning her from you.
Sorry, perhaps Shubhrā Joshī was not made for you.
Perhaps Shubhrā Joshī was really made for me.
Why otherwise she is surrendering to my Bachhalyā advances?
The kiss went on for several more Moments, soft yet firm, our heads bobbing gently in unison, our parted lips sealed.
Suddenly a car door slammed shut followed by the sound of someone climbing the short staircase leading to the door in my kitchen.
It shook us both from this dream-like state and caused us both to quickly break off our kiss and move away from each other just as Vinīt Sharmā opened the door.
Shubhrā Joshī shook the cobwebs from her head and rapidly turned to face the sink as Vinīt Sharmā greeted us both.
I made a sophisticated retreat, leaving them both in the kitchen.
I made it to my room and into the bathroom as I removed my pants Kħālidah Yåqūb suddenly appeared and took hold of my swollen Hindu member.
“Ohohoho!”Kħālidah Yåqūb rapidly began to suck me off, my eyes closed remembering the taste of that Bachhalyā Brahmāñī kiss I had just shared with my Brāhmañ Sālī, my Brāhmañ sister in law, Shubhrā Joshī.
As if we were still pressed together, the feel of her tits resting into my chest, her extremely beautiful Mahārāshtrian Brāhmañ mouth on mine, I began to cum in Kħālidah Yåqūb’s Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth!
It came running out of me in spoonfuls, so strong I felt my knees buckle and I needed to grab on to the vanity to hold myself up.
As soon as it subsided, I fucked Kħālidah Yåqūb vehemently, cleaned up, showered, dressed and headed out to the hospital, yelling to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s folks in the kitchen, as I sped out the door.
All the way there I was wracked abnormally over what I had done to Shubhrā Joshī, and yet, I couldn’t help getting a bit aroused when I thought about how she gave in and started kissing me back!
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam