Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad dipped her finger in and out three times, and as I zoomed the view back out, I smiled wickedly as she raised the finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, her head tilted back.
“That’s a good Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Sex goddess,” I grunted.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the nudist feminist, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, smiled at me and clinched her already tightest Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal grip around my ever undefeatable, ever insuperable, ever insurmountable Uncut Hindu Cock.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad stepped forward into the shower.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the nudist feminist, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Cock, into her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt entirely, watching the hot water sluicing down the curves of Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad’s beautiful Musalmān body.
“Come on, you ever hottest Musalmān Sex goddess, Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad. Do it.” I winked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the nudist feminist, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad turned in the shower and squatted down, her back against the wall.
I smiled and zoomed the camera in, framing her as her legs came up and her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks rested on the shower floor.
I could see her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, her asshole, tits and face and I felt my heart lifted in excitement.
“Go on. Get busy.”*
Jamīlah Aurangzeb called.
“Lubnā Åālamgīr, don’t forget Durgesh and Ħanīfah Arbāz are going to be here soon,”
Lubnā Åālamgīr headed to her room.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb went on to say,
“You need to clean up your room so we can put a mattress on the floor for your cousin.”
“Yes Ammī,” Lubnā Åālamgīr called back, repressing a sigh.
It wasn’t that Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t like having her Hindu Stepfather and cousin around.
Lubnā Åālamgīr had actually been looking forward to seeing us.
It was just that growing up Lubnā Åālamgīr and I had always seemed to Lubnā Åālamgīr that we liked spending time with each other more than Lubnā Åālamgīr did.
It wasn’t as if we ignored Lubnā Åālamgīr.
We let Lubnā Åālamgīr hang out with us, and everything.
Nevertheless, Lubnā Åālamgīr often got the feeling that she was intruding somehow.
The way her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, had been going on about our visit just reminded Lubnā Åālamgīr of those feelings of being left out.
Lubnā Åālamgīr sometimes mentally blamed it on the age difference.
Lubnā Åālamgīr was about two years younger than Ħanīfah Arbāz was.
Yet it wasn’t such a big deal these days.
Lubnā Åālamgīr was eighteen and Ħanīfah Arbāz was twenty.
It was not as significant a gap as when Ħanīfah Arbāz and Lubnā Åālamgīr were younger.
There was nothing Lubnā Åālamgīr could do, at this point, though.
Ħanīfah Arbāz and I had been really close when Ħanīfah Arbāz was growing up and had moved into an apartment together after Ħanīfah Arbāz’s high school.
There was just no way Lubnā Åālamgīr could compete with Ħanīfah Arbāz.
Still, it would be nice to have us around for a few days.
Ħanīfah Arbāz and I didn’t live particularly far away.
Nevertheless, it was far enough that Lubnā Åālamgīr hardly got to see Ħanīfah Arbāz anymore.
Lubnā Åālamgīr had been toying with the idea of finding a place closer to Ħanīfah Arbāz when she moved out.
Being eighteen and almost done school all Lubnā Åālamgīr could think about was finally getting a place of her own, even if it was just a tiny apartment somewhere.
Lubnā Åālamgīr was distracted enough by her thoughts and cleaning up that Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t even notice me standing in the doorway until Lubnā Åālamgīr happened to turn around.
I was leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed just watching Lubnā Åālamgīr.
“Allah, Allah, oh my God, Durgesh, how long have you been standing there?” Lubnā Åālamgīr demanded.
“A Couple of minutes,” I smiled.
Lubnā Åālamgīr never called me ‘Dad’.
She hated me actually that her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, had left her Abbū to live in relationship with me.
Well, she never hated her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, for it.
However, Lubnā Åālamgīr never accepted me even her Stepfather.
She always called me ‘Durgesh’.
Most of my Musalmān stepdaughters did the same.
Well, it was natural also.
They were adult yet they were not mature enough to understand the interpersonal relationship between a man and woman/women optimum.
Their adulthood could give them legal rights only, not the knowledge, experiences and understanding derived.
I had an amazing poker face when I wanted to, and I was giving no indication of what I was thinking.
Even though Lubnā Åālamgīr couldn’t read my face, Lubnā Åālamgīr decided I probably wasn’t up to anything.
I must have just wanted to see how long it would take her to notice me.
Lubnā Åālamgīr stepped into my arms as I opened them for Lubnā Åālamgīr and we hugged.
Lubnā Åālamgīr lingered a little longer than she usually would have.
It had been a while since her last boyfriend and the contact with a guy felt good, even if I was her Hindu Stepfather.
“Where’s Ħanīfah Arbāz?” Lubnā Åālamgīr asked, finally releasing me.
“Downstairs, still talking.” I smiled.
Lubnā Åālamgīr gave me a light shove and I backed up, letting Lubnā Åālamgīr past me in the hallway.
Lubnā Åālamgīr turned the corner to find Ħanīfah Arbāz just reaching the top of stairs.
“Ħanīfah Arbāz!” Lubnā Åālamgīr hurried the last few steps and threw her arms around her.
“Hey Lubnā Åālamgīr,” she replied.
She pushed Lubnā Åālamgīr back to arm length after a moment and looked her up and down.
“You’re getting bigger.”
Lubnā Åālamgīr gave her a confused look,
“I don’t think I’m any taller since last time you were here.”
“I meant your boobs. They seem bigger.”
Lubnā Åālamgīr blushed and made sure I wasn’t within earshot.
After all, I was not her stepfather for her.
Instead, I was a communal sexual Hindu for her that has succeeded in breaking countless Musalmān homes by snatching away extraordinary beautiful Musalmān wives from their Musalmān husbands.
How those extraordinary beautiful Musalmān wives were suffering from their Musalmān husbands’ unjustified behaviour with them, wasn’t important to her at all.
Being Just Eighteen Just Adult only, Lubnā Åālamgīr was unable to understand interpersonal relationship optimum.
Yet, she didn’t understand her incapability in the matter too.
“Yeah, they’ve been growing some.” Lubnā Åālamgīr said blushing very much.
“They look nice.”
Ħanīfah Arbāz’s last comment confused Lubnā Åālamgīr a little, but Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t worry about it for too long.
She followed Lubnā Åālamgīr back to her room and sat down on the bed cross-legged.
Ħanīfah Arbāz loved talking and she kept Lubnā Åālamgīr entertained while Lubnā Åālamgīr finished cleaning up the room.*
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr smiled at me.
“Sit down, please.” I also smiled at Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, “Welcome at Ashvinātam in Ved Nagar. It’s not so many Musalmīn want to see me after their Musalmān Houseladies break their home for me. Thanks for seeing me even after your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, broke your home for me.”
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr smiled gravely.
“Thanks for seeing me and offering me a seat.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“Thank you. I think Ummat-e-Muslimah is suffering from degeneration nowadays.”
“Ummat-e-Muslimah?” I watched Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr gravely, “Ummat-e-Muslimah only?”
“You don’t agree with me?”
“On the contrary, I agree with you completely, Maulānā Muħtarim.” I said, “In addition, I think every society nowadays is suffering from degeneration, not only Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“Hindu Society too?” Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr watched me cagily.
“Hindu Society too.”
“Well, I thought you are an utmost successful Hindu leader.”
“Sure, I am. Sure, I am. Yet, I am Not a communal Hindu.”
“Do you think I am a communal Musalmān?”
I watched Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr prudently.
I never expected such a direct question from him.
“Does it make any difference in the matter you came to me to discuss about?”
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr didn’t answer my question directly.
Instead, he smiled too,
“I presume you think I’m a heel or impotent.”
“It’s a temptation to answer that question in detail. That’s not an auspicious, a positive beginning.”
“So, in addition to other things, my wife, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, has told you that I’m a negative person too?”
“Have you come to me to discuss your wife with me?”
“Certainly not if you are afraid to discuss her with her still legal Musalmān husband.”
I watched Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr astutely.
“Why do you want to discuss her with me?”
“Because I want to clear my own position.”
“Does it make any difference?”
“Not to you, not to my wife, but to me.” Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr also watched me circumspectly now.
“I see. How?”
“I’m sure she has portrayed me black in your eyes.”
“Every woman, who leaves her husband, does it.” I said gravely, “Even the most unfaithful wife never advises her lover, she is guilty of anything. What’s different there if Jamīlah Aurangzeb also resorted to the same line? You certainly don’t think me such a fool to believe her every word against you.”
“Why not? She is extremely beautiful. I know the power of an extreme Musalmān Beauty, rather Musalmān Beauties, on you ever sexual Hindus.”*
That night, after putting on her nightshirt, Lubnā Åālamgīr settled in on the far side of her bed and waited for Ħanīfah Arbāz to get back from the bathroom.
They had gotten the mattress set up for her, but Lubnā Åālamgīr didn’t think she would actually use it.
They always slept together in her bed when Ħanīfah Arbāz stayed over, it had plenty of room and neither of them had a problem with sharing.
Her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, didn’t seem to understand that though and Lubnā Åālamgīr had given up trying to argue the point with her.
Ħanīfah Arbāz closed the door and turned off the light before walking over to the bed and climbing in beside Lubnā Åālamgīr.
They stayed up for a while just talking and giggling before eventually falling asleep.
Lubnā Åālamgīr woke sometime early in the morning.
She found that she had rolled onto her side facing away from Ħanīfah Arbāz.
She also found that at some point Ħanīfah Arbāz had curled up behind Lubnā Åālamgīr and draped her arm across her.
Lubnā Åālamgīr thought about shifting or waking her up, but it actually felt kind of nice and it wasn’t doing any harm.
Lubnā Åālamgīr lay there for a while feeling the warmth of Ħanīfah Arbāz’s body wrapped around herself, before drifting off again.
When Lubnā Åālamgīr awoke the second time, the sunlight was beginning to pour through the window and Lubnā Åālamgīr knew she had to get up soon.
Lubnā Åālamgīr gently lifted Ħanīfah Arbāz’s arm and started to slide out, trying not to wake her.
“Mmph, don’t go, you’re so cuddly,” Ħanīfah Arbāz mumbled.
She freed her arm from Lubnā Åālamgīr’s grasp and wrapped it back around her waist, holding Lubnā Åālamgīr tight.
“I gotta go to University Ħanīfah Arbāz,” Lubnā Åālamgīr said, tugging at her wrist.
“Just five more minutes.”
“Ħanīfah Arbāāāāāāāz−,” Lubnā Åālamgīr whined.
“Okay, okay.” She pulled her arm off Lubnā Åālamgīr and let Lubnā Åālamgīr crawl over her to get off the bed.
Lubnā Åālamgīr had a quick shower and grabbed some toast before just barely catching her bus.
University was predictably tedious, made worse that day because Lubnā Åālamgīr actually had a reason to want to get home afterward.
The main thing that kept Lubnā Åālamgīr from completely giving up on it was the knowledge that Lubnā Åālamgīr only had to get through a few more months and then Lubnā Åālamgīr was done.*
Life around home had gotten rather routine, in spite of the fact that her daughter and son both were also staying with her family.
About two weeks ago, something happened that changed her life forever.
It was a cooler summer evening and I was lying in the bedroom listening to some classical music I loved very much.
As far as I knew, my wife, my live in relationship partner, was doing a crossword puzzle in the other room and everyone else was gone doing their own things.
Ultimately, I decided to get myself a glass of juice from the kitchen.
Picking up my dirty socks, I threw them in the hamper as I walked past it on the way to the front of the house.
Approaching the dining room, I could see into the kitchen.
Then it caught my eye; growing bigger and bigger with every step I took.
Soon it was all that I could see.
It took up my whole visual field and caused my Uncut Hindu Cock to get instantly harder.
It was a giant ass in a pair of intense green sweat pants.
The pants were just tight enough that they formed the outline of both cheeks perfectly pushing deeply into that wonderful ass crack.
She was bent over the counter pushing out her wonderful magnificent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass invitingly.
I didn’t know, or care, what she was doing.
I just had to play with that big Musalmān ass!
It was firm enough that it stood up on its own; no sagging at all.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh God, I just had to fuck the owner of that wonderful Musalmān ass.
Yes, yes, I doubtlessly have my morals.
Nevertheless, no morals stop a Hindu not to fuck a Musalmān Beauty if she is available to him and Hinduism/ Ved doesn’t prohibit him from doing it.
Now I was within reach and pondered her next move only for a couple of seconds before swinging into action.
Quickly I grabbed the elastic waistband of the sweat pants and gave a hearty downward yank.
It took a second yank as the front got caught between the counter and her magnanimous body.
Freed of that monster Musalmān ass the pants fell to her knees revealing a sexy pair of brilliant purple bikini XL panties.
My heart fluttered out of control.
Within a single second, I lifted my hand and gave that huge Musalmān bum a hard swat.
She made a little grunt.
Instantly I gave her a second swat twice as hard as the first.
This time she let out a loud squeal.
As I began, swinging my arm down full force for a third swing it came to me that my wife didn’t own any purple panties and in fact hated the color purple. And furthermore, that squeal sure didn’t sound like my wife’s voice.
Then it hit me like a thunderbolt exploding in my mind that my wife had said she had to go out for the evening and was only working on the crossword puzzles until it was time to leave.
Looking up her body, I realized that this was in fact my ‘daughter in law’, Åādilah Salāħuddīn, whom I was spanking.
Yes, Naåīmuddīn wasn’t my real son.
Nevertheless, his Ammī, Āsiyah Nādir, was my live in relationship partner now.
The third swat hit with a thunderous sound as my hand bounced off my hot rump from the pure force of the swat.
Instantaneously careful now, I quickly drew back my hand.
I was even more vigilant when she swung around to face me and my Uncut Hindu Cock began twitching in my pants.
I couldn’t believe that I was still horny and that part of me wanted Åādilah Salāħuddīn.
However, I had enough composure hurriedly to blurt out,
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, I’m sorry I thought you were my wife, my live in relationship partner, Āsiyah Nādir.”
“You Hindu scoundrel, what do you think I don’t know you perfect? leave my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass alone. I perfectly know you are always after us Musalmān Beauties to fuck us.” she yelled as we were face to face inches apart.
Then she tried to slap the right and then left side of my face as hard as she could.
Already prepared for her such response, I held her arm before she could succeed.
“Bitch, I said I am sorry,” I snapped back and smacked both sides of her buttocks once again.
Why her buttocks?
I was certainly in obsession still now with her extraordinary incredible Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty.
Even the awareness that she was my ‘daughter in law’, had couldn’t change my passion for her extraordinary beautiful buttocks.
She and her Musalmān husband, Naåīmuddīn always hated me openly that I had broken their home by snatching away, Āsiyah Nādir, from her duly married Musalmān husband.
They both were openly anti Hindu, criminal minded and immensely communal Musalmān.
“The fuck you are sorry, fuck head,” Åādilah Salāħuddīn’s face was red with anger.
Then again, I felt the nonstop attempts and potential sting of twin slaps across my face.
“You God Damn fucking communal Musalmān bitch,” I ranted slapping her buttocks even harder.
Our bodies were creeping closer together.
We could feel each other’s hot breath.
“You my Ammī fucking Hindu prick,” again she loaded to slap me.
I caught her hand again before the slap reached its target.
After a strange pause of about a second, our faces drew together with mouths wide open.
Before we knew what we were doing, we were engaged in the most passionate hungry kiss in the history of mankind.
Our hips now ground against each other.
“Oh Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā,” I yelped as our lips parted for a millisecond.
“Yes, yes, I’m so hot, I am a Musalmān Beauty. Am I not?” my partner replied in the wildest of passion.
Hands traversed wildly over our bodies.
When I gave her wonderful magnificent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass a firm Hindu squeeze she responded by grinding her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān pelvic bone hard against my Hindu erection.
Savagely she yanked open my shirt causing buttons to fly all over the kitchen.
Deciding what was good for her was good for me I returned the gesture and ripped her blouse open. Her buttons joined mine on the floor.
My hands grabbed her big Musalmān boobs through her bra and gave them a hard squeeze.
I was just about to reach around and unfasten the bra when I felt her hands on my belt.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam