Ammī, you toooo?
I heard Åārifah Aslam and Muħammad Ħabīb before I saw them as I arrived home.
As had become the norm, they were fighting.
I paused for a moment as I listened to them from outside the front door then jangled my keys and loudly played with the lock to signal my arrival.
I sighed as the fighting stopped once I entered.
Åārifah Aslam and Muħammad Ħabīb were in the front foyer sporting fake smiles as I walked in,
“Hey Åārifah Aslam, Muħammad Ħabīb, what’s up?”
Muħammad Ħabīb was not in a chatting mood.
He simply picked up a bag that lay at his feet,
“Nothing buddy, I just stopped by to pick up a few things I need for a business trip,” Muħammad Ħabīb said as he walked over to me.
“I’ll email you,” Muħammad Ħabīb said simply before turning to me, “Take care of your Bahū Bégum. Will you, Dad, please?”
I didn’t bother saying goodbye to my stepson.
Muħammad Ħabīb was out the door with the door closed before I even had a chance to say the words.
Instead, I walked over to Al Åārifah Al Aslam and gave her a hello kiss on the cheek,
“You ok, Åārifah?”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled and put on a brave face for me,
“Of course, I am, Durgesh, and how was your day?”
I ignored Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s question as we walked inside,
“You don’t seem ok, Åārifah, come on, what’s up? What did your idiot husband, Muħammad Ħabīb, say?”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam sighed as the weight of a bad day came crashing down, tears formed in her eyes as she stepped closer to her one and only protector and hugged me tight,
“Your ever incompetent stepson is officially filing for divorce,” she said as tears ran down her cheeks.
I hugged Al Åārifah Al Aslam tightly and held her as the words sunk in.
I wasn’t surprised Åārifah Aslam and Muħammad Ħabīb were getting divorced.
They had been separated for months and their marriage had been slowly deteriorating for years before that.
I rubbed Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s back softly and wiped away her tears as she looked at me,
“I’m sorry, Åārifah Aslam. I know you really tried to make it work.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled at me, she was so lucky to have me in her life.
While her relationship with her soon to be ex-husband was in poor shape, her relationship with me couldn’t have been better.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam broke the hug and wiped her tears away,
“You know where he’s going, don’t you? He’s going away with HER – business trip his ass.”
“Do you think she would remain with him?”
“None can. Everyone needs physical satisfaction completely.”
“And Muħammad Ħabīb can’t provide it?”
“He can, but he is obsessed in doing other things, instead of normal matrimonial requirements.”
I led Al Åārifah Al Aslam into the living room so we could sit down. Before being separated, Muħammad Ħabīb had admitted to his wife and me he was having an affair with a colleague at work and that they were in love.
“We can have each other Åārifah Aslam, you’re too good for me anyway,” I said.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam snorted with laughter,
“Yeah right, look at me, I’m a mess.”
I smiled as I looked at Al Åārifah Al Aslam,
“You’re beautiful on the inside and out and the best Bahū Bégum a man can have,” I said.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam shook her head,
“My best friend, philosopher and guide,” she said as she kissed me then wiped a smudge of her lipstick from my face, “where would I be without you? I can’t understand why the Musalmīn hate you, if they aren’t really Pseudo Musalmīn.”
“Now that’s a sentiment I can agree with,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled. “I’m going to finish making dinner; you go change and get ready.”
I kissed Al Åārifah Al Aslam on the cheek again and went upstairs to my room.
I was halfway up the stairs when Al Åārifah Al Aslam called out to me, “Oh and Durgesh … ”
“Yes, Åārifah Aslam?” I asked as I turned around.
“My laptop is acting up, the sound won’t work, would you take a look at it?” she asked.
“Anything for you, Åārifah,” I said as I reached the top of the stairs and went into my room.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam and I had always been close.
When they were just married even, Muħammad Ħabīb often worked late hours.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam used to come to me for company.
So, Al Åārifah Al Aslam and I spent a lot of time together.
I didn’t mind being called a “Ladies’ Man” and happily spent time with Al Åārifah Al Aslam.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam married young when she was only 19.
She and Muħammad Ħabīb met in school and were high school sweethearts.
Muħammad Ħabīb was two years older and truly loved her when they were younger.
However, the pressure of providing for a family at such a young age wore on Muħammad Ħabīb before long.
Due to his hidden hate that his Ammī deserted his real father to live in relationship with me, Muħammad Ħabīb never accepted any money, any financial help from me.”
“I can’t be a pimp of my own Ammī for that Hindu scoundrel.” Muħammad Ħabīb used to say to Al Åārifah Al Aslam.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was dumb founded.”
“Muħammad Ħabīb, Durgesh never went to seduce your Ammī. She tells me your Abbū couldn’t satisfy her sexually.”
“Bosh and nonsense,” Muħammad Ħabīb retorted, “Ammī is saving her own face and protecting her new Hindu love. If my Abbū were impotent, from where my sisters and I came?”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was hurt,
“Muħammad Ħabīb, Ammī didn’t say impotent, she said ‘incompetent’.”
“I don’t believe her.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked at him incredulously,
“She is your Ammī, Muħammad Ħabīb.”
“That’s the reason I can’t hate her.”
When a job offer came, they moved cities.
Muħammad Ħabīb adjusted to the move well but Al Åārifah Al Aslam didn’t.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was used to the whispers about her suspected clandestine affair with me.
Muħammad Ħabīb laughed,
“They can’t believe a Musalmān houselady is so beautiful and nevertheless she doesn’t fuck my infinite Muslimātramañ Hindu stepfather. He has infinite money and sexual prowess too. It’s natural that beautiful Musalmān houseladies fall for him, because Durgesh prefers beautiful Musalmān houseladies on the rest of women.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was out of speech,
“But, Muħammad Ħabīb,”
“Forget them. They want me to repeat the blunder they committed.”
“They didn’t have faith in their own wives. They suspected them, misbehaved and threw them in this way in Durgesh’s lap themselves.”
“Muħammad Ħabīb!” Al Åārifah Al Aslam exclaimed immensely surprised.
“That was the blunder they committed. I’m not a damn fool enough not to have faith in my own wife.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam put her arms around his neck and kissed him gratefully indebted.
She could not believe he would leave him ultimately soon.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam had hoped the rumors about her clandestine affair with me would die off with age.
She was short, standing only 5’3 with dyed blonde hair and green eyes, fair skin, toned legs and large firm round breasts that were 100% real.
She had been a cheerleader in her high school days and had grown accustomed to attracting stares from the opposite sex; she liked the power it gave her.
The problems with Muħammad Ħabīb started after the move and never really stopped.
It was Durgesh that pulled her out of her funk.
Even in my sixty-six, I was still an athletic kid, kid, never an old man,
So, Al Åārifah Al Aslam threw herself into doting on me.
I called her beautiful even when she didn’t feel like she was and convinced her to take up jogging with me.
Slowly Al Åārifah Al Aslam caught the exercise bug and her figure and confidence excelled.
It became yet another activity for the two of us to bond over.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam went to all my games and enjoyed the attention she got from my teammates, but it was the attention she got from me she enjoyed most of all.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam had caught me staring at her from time to time while we jogged and around the house but didn’t mind my stolen glances.
She knew I adored her and often got in fights defending her honor.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam didn’t like me fighting but she did like that she did have one man in her life that defended her.
Truth be told, I wasn’t the only one who did some ogling.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam noticed me as a miraculously perfect ever-young man, even in my sixty-six.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was crestfallen when even her Ammī fell for me.
“Ammī, you toooo?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam couldn’t believe her own eyes.*
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm smiled.
She was an ultramodern woman.
No, Islam didn’t snatch away their liberty at all.
It was Pseudo Islam that did it.
Islam, instead, protected the then Årab womankind from their alive cremation, their mass kidnapping and their mass sale for slavery and prostitution.
“What a woman needs.”
“I see.” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said ironically, “A woman needs to cheat her husband, in her fifty six even, seduce a Hindu wild sex maniac, undress him herself, push him on his back, undress herself, straddle him, hold his Uncut Hindu Cock in her hand, position it between her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips, and thrust herself entirely shamelessly to get it inside.”
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm smiled ironically herself.
“I never knew you were so sex starved that you watched your own Ammī’s sex life so profoundly. Didn’t I teach you it to be bad manners?”
“A person learns more from seeing than being taught.” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said sternly.
“Your sex life is not even satisfactory, my dear.” Al Navīdah Al Vasīm invited her daughter gravely, “Come on, replace me. Enjoy the infinite Muslimātramañ to your heart’s content, as much as you need, and even more. Durgesh is a sex wizard.”
“Thank you very much.” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said contemptuously, “I’m quite satisfied with my Musalmān husband. Your Hindu lover himself admits that the Hindus are better in sex but the Musalmīn are better in morals.”*
With Åārifah Aslam and Muħammad Ħabīb splitting up, I didn’t like the idea of Al Åārifah Al Aslam living home alone.
Despite the stolen glances, none of our duo ever did anything sexual.
Our relationship wasn’t like that, but we did have an extremely tight bond.
A bond that was about to grow even stronger.
I showered and changed, then walked into Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s room to check on her laptop.
It booted up without any issues and the sound problem was easy enough to solve.
I decided to check my online web portal to see if my finals were posted and was about to shut the computer down when a link saved in the favorites caught my eye.
I knew I should leave it alone but proceeded anyway.
I clicked on the link and a hook-up site popped up.
It was a sex meet up site, a combo of eHarmony and Ashley Madison.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s profile was saved and I decided to check it out.
I found myself neutral, as I read Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s profile.
Logically I wanted Al Åārifah Al Aslam to meet someone and move on from Muħammad Ħabīb.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam advertised herself as a soon-to-be divorced Bahū Bégum of one who was looking for a man who knew how to pleasure a woman.
Durgesh was quite serious as I read Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s profile describing her sexual likes and dislikes.
My cock started to throb as she described in depth how she wanted to ride a ‘hot man’s bronco’ and shove it in her ex-husband’s face.
My cock got even harder as I spotted some pictures she posted.
They weren’t nude, but, nevertheless, were pretty close.
“I can’t believe it,” I said to myself.
Just then, Al Åārifah Al Aslam called from downstairs,
“Dinner is ready, Master!”
I closed the website and the laptop,
“Be there in a Moment, Åārifah Aslam!” I called as I adjusted my pants and went downstairs.
I visited Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s online profile a lot over the next two weeks.
She had recently joined so I didn’t think she had met anyone yet, nevertheless, I just couldn’t let it go.
I wasn’t mad with Al Åārifah Al Aslam, I could never be mad at her for wanting to meet new people, regardless of the reason.
I just couldn’t shake the caution I felt towards unknown men trying to score with Al Åārifah Al Aslam.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was an attractive woman.
She was toned but not skinny, curvy but not overly so, with soft smooth skin and large plump breasts.
I loved the smell of her shampoo, the way she dressed, moved and laughed.
So why wouldn’t other men?
Al Åārifah Al Aslam didn’t dress to tease me around the house, but she didn’t dress overly conservative either.
She wasn’t nearly as tall as I was, and from time to time wore my old jerseys or shirts around the house with little else on.
She had done that the other night when we watched a movie together.
I found myself stealing glances at Al Åārifah Al Aslam as she cuddled beside me.
I watched her as much as I did the movie.
One late night while I was surfing the internet I invariably made my way back to Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s profile.
As I logged on, I noticed Al Åārifah Al Aslam was logged in as well.
I stared at her profile picture and the green dot indicating she was online.
I decided to take a chance.
I sent Al Åārifah Al Aslam, an invite for a live chat.
30 seconds later, she agreed.
“Hello” I typed.
“Hi,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam responded, “Thanks for the invite.”
“Couldn’t resist,” I started. “Can’t sleep?”
“Horny and alone,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam replied.
“I find that hard to believe,” I typed.
“Lol why?” she asked.
“You’re beautiful,” I replied.
“You’re sweet,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam replied, “but the only man who notices me these days is my step father in law.”
I was more careful in my tracks.
Was she upset?
“I find THAT hard to believe,” I wrote.
“It’s true,” she said, “he’s the only one and to be honest, I don’t mind.”
“Naughty girl,” I wrote.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled as she chatted online.
She had been considering cancelling her membership and hadn’t expected to share any secret desires but here she was – and she was horny.
“Ever done anything?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam rubbed herself even harder as she typed,
“No, I’m too much of a chicken.”
“What about others?” I asked.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam chuckled as she typed, “They may be cute but I’d never do that to him.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
My head would have exploded if one of them were fooling around with Al Åārifah Al Aslam.
“You think he’d want to do something?” I asked.
“Probably not,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam responded. “I’m not some freak, just a lonely woman.”
“I read somewhere a lot of Bahū Bégums think of their father in law sexually at some point,” I wrote.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam started to finger herself as she typed,
“Have you thought about your Bahū Bégum, if you are old enough to have one?”
I paused and then responded,
“I’ve started to, hard to not notice her.”
“You naughty boy,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam wrote. “Do you want to fuck her?”
I couldn’t decide what to say.
I hadn’t really thought about it but I had been visiting her profile and thinking about her nonstop recently.
“Hello?” she asked.
“Sorry,” I wrote, “I was just thinking about her.”
“Mmmmmmm” Al Åārifah Al Aslam responded, “that a yes?”
I paused again before responding, “Well, my cock is rock hard,” I replied honestly without actually responding.
“My pussy is wet,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam replied. “How big are you?”
“Big enough, maybe I’ll show you sometime” I typed.
“How old are you?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
“I’m 66,” I typed.
“Mmmmm you could be my step father in law,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam responded, not knowing how right she was.
“I’d like that,” I replied.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam fingered her pussy faster,
“I bet you would…”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam played with herself as we chatted.
“It’s late, I should go to bed, talk again?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
“Absolutely,” I replied.
“Goodnight, my dear,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam wrote before logging off.
“Night, Åārifah Aslam,” I said softly as I stood up and moved over to my bed.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam played with herself that night, thinking of me before she drifted off to sleep.
Neither Al Åārifah Al Aslam nor I had intended for that chat to happen.
In fact, neither had admitted to themselves we had those desires but it was clear now we both did.
Over the course of the next week we chatted almost every night about our shared fantasy, not really sure where it was leading.
I noticed Al Åārifah Al Aslam was suddenly in a better mood while Al Åārifah Al Aslam couldn’t help but notice me checking her out even more than usual.
I had learned through our online chats Al Åārifah Al Aslam hadn’t met anyone through the site and wasn’t too pleased with it overall until she started talking to me.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam meanwhile found herself looking forward to her late night rendezvous with her anonymous experienced old stud.
She had started to fantasize about her and myself together, but left it at that, just a fantasy.
One night after watching a movie together, we met online after saying our goodnights in the hall.
“Allah, I’m so horny,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam wrote when I popped online.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“We just watched a movie together and I did what I told you I was going to do. I wore a skimpy little nightie and he was so hard. I saw him. I felt him,” she said.
“That IS hot,” I wrote back.
“I was so tempted to do something but I couldn’t. I shouldn’t be doing this to myself or to him. He’s the only good relationship I have in my life,” she said.
“Sounds to me like he doesn’t mind,” I wrote.
“I don’t know…” she replied.
“I bet you he’s thinking about you right now,” I typed.
“You think so?” she asked.
“I know so…” I said.
“I wish you were him,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam replied.
My cock throbbed at that last comment,
“Go check if he’s still awake, I’ll be here…” I said.
Without thinking, I got up and slipped out my room, going downstairs to the kitchen.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam heard me in the kitchen and walked down to join me in her skimpy nightie.
“Durgesh?” she asked as she entered the kitchen, “is that you?”
“It’s me Åārifah Aslam; I’m just making some hot milk, want some?”
I looked at Al Åārifah Al Aslam as she softly stepped into the kitchen, her nightie was light purple, very short and see-thru everywhere but at her chest.
My eyes traveled up and down her body, her nightie barely covered her panties and perfectly showcased her body.
“I couldn’t sleep, you?” I asked.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled at me,
Al Åārifah Al Aslam watched as I reached up to get a second mug.
I was wearing boxers and a t-shirt that was molded to my toned physique. Whereas her husband had let himself go in recent years, I was a verified hunk.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam stepped closer to me as the milk started to heat up, “Aren’t we a pair?” she chuckled, “heating up warm milk on a Saturday night.”
I smiled as I pulled Al Åārifah Al Aslam close to me, my hands sliding down her back as her arms went around my neck.
“I don’t mind Åārifah Aslam, I’ve always preferred being with you. I like our special bond,” I said.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled back at me,
“Me too. I’m lucky to have a father in law who talks to Al Åārifah Al Aslam more than once a month.”
“You mean that’s an option?” I teased.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam gasped in mock horror,
“Just for that I’m going to embarrass you the next time your friends are over. I’m going to treat you like a best friend and just shower you with kisses…”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam leaned up as she started to give me sloppy wet kisses on my cheeks and forehead.
“I’ll kiss you like this and this and this and this and this and this…” she teased.
I laughed as Al Åārifah Al Aslam gave me sloppy wet kisses, her body pressed against me as she did, and as she pressed against me, it was impossible for her not to feel my extraordinary Hindu hard-on.
“Ok ok ok!” I laughed, “I give in!”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled as she stopped kissing me but stayed pressed against me.
Our eyes locked for a Moment as I held Al Åārifah Al Aslam in my arms. I pulled her slightly against me and she didn’t fight it.
Finally, after an extended silence I said,
“I love you, Åārifah Aslam.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam bit her bottom lip and smiled,
“I love you too, my Master. You’re the love of your Bahū Bégum’s life and you always will be.”
“I’d do anything for you Åārifah Aslam,” I replied.
“I know you would Durgesh,” she started as the milk started to boil over, “but right now I think you should pour us some milk,” she giggled as the warm milk spilled on the floor.
I swore softly as I pulled the pot off the burner and wiped up the spilled milk,
‘If that isn’t a metaphor I don’t know what is,’ I thought to myself.
I poured a glass for myself, and Al Åārifah Al Aslam,
“Here you go,” I said.
“Thanks Durgesh,” she said as she kissed me on the cheek, “goodnight, don’t stay up too late,” she said as she walked back upstairs.
I watched her leave and adjusted my hard cock once she was out of sight. I quickly cleaned up and returned to my room.
Messages from Al Åārifah Al Aslam were waiting for me as I sat down.
“I’m here,” I typed.
“Thought I lost you,” she wrote.
“How’d it go?” I asked.
I groaned as Al Åārifah Al Aslam shared the story that I just participated in,
“Sounds hot,” I said.
“You have no idea,” she said, “my pussy is on fire.”
I was thinking about Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s pussy when she asked me her most daring question yet,
“Would you send me a pic of your dick? I’m sopping wet.”
My cock lurched with lust at Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s request,
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” I said.
“Deal,” she said. “You first.”
I gulped as Al Åārifah Al Aslam responded quickly; I hadn’t expected her to take me up on my offer.
I turned on my webcam and focused on my hard cock, making sure, only my cock was on screen and nothing that would give away where I was. I took a pic and sent it through the chat.
“Enjoy,” I wrote.
“Mmmmmm that’s bigger than my ex,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said, unknowingly telling me, I had a bigger cock than Muħammad Ħabīb.
“Seriously, that’s a great cock” she continued. “Your Bahū Bégum doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
Two minutes later she sent me a pic in return, it was a pic of Al Åārifah Al Aslam from her breasts down to her wetness, her fingers inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, “Your father in law is the one who doesn’t know what he’s missing,” I typed.
“Think of me when you fuck anyone tonight,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam wrote. “I’ll be thinking of your cock and pretending you’re my step father in law.”
For the next week, we traded more pics as we chatted with the temperature slowly rising to a crescendo the next weekend.
I arrived Saturday afternoon hot and tired and in need of a swim.
I saw Al Åārifah Al Aslam outside so I quickly changed into my trunks and went outside.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked up as I walked outside,
“How was work?”
“Same old same old, glad to be done and in the pool,” I said as I dived into the pool and did a few laps.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam watched as I did my laps and hid behind her sunglasses as I pulled myself out of the water.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much better,” I said as I sat down beside her, “have you been in today or is this another one of your ‘dry’ bathing suits?”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam stood up and spun around for me, happy to show off her body,
“Does this look like a swim suit you get wet?” she asked.
I smirked as I stood up,
“It does to me!” I said as I picked Al Åārifah Al Aslam up and put her over my shoulder.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam shrieked loudly as I picked her up, “Durgesh! Put me down this instant!”
I chuckled as I carried Al Åārifah Al Aslam to the edge of the pool; she kicked her legs playfully as she squirmed on my shoulder, “what’s that? Can’t hear you. I’ve got this woman screaming on my shoulder.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam squirmed, kicked, and lightly smacked me as I held her,
“Don’t you dare throw me in the water!”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Utmost Ancient thorughly Updated New Order taking place
“And I am going to be your hot and horny Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān who secretly plays with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī twenty eight years old young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot thinking of your big ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund. The one she saw when Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched you fuck your sexiest and very beautiful,” she laughed, “As well as sweet and intelligent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girlfriend, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched us fucking?” I asked, my cock was hardening more and more.
Well, why the hell shouldn’t it?
Despite her father’s and my every effort to marry her again with any suitable man of her choice, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān expressly refused to do so.
Even a dumbass could understand what Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān really wanted.
“Yes,” she nodded, her blue eyes glazing over with lust.
I loved that look and as bad as I wanted to touch her sat and waited for her to go off on one of her sexy talking tirades.
As always Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan went on to do so.
“That’s right, your horny Bahū Bégum was watching through the first floor window that day we were fucking on the couch. She squatted right there and fingered herself while Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched your Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, the President of Modern Democratic Årabia, suck on your big ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund! She came right there when you shot your nice hot Hindu load into my thirty four years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot! Then Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists lick my thirty four years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and Musalmān ass and wished it was hers!”
“Oh, yeah.” I whispered. Lifting my hips, I pushed my shorts down, exposing my hard Uncut Hindu cock in appreciation of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s hot reporting.
In Modern Democratic Årabia, now it was an integral part of the punishment to the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists that they had to lick clean the beautiful Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of their own entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies after I fucked them publicly. Even the other interested beautiful Musalmān houseladies could make them to do the same.
They had no right to protest.
“Let it be, Durgesh.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said sternly, “The beasts have massacred innocent persons in the name of Islam. They must be punished publicly as much, as dastardly, as to terrorize their other colleagues we couldn’t arrest yet.”
“They aren’t so many now.”
I watched Åāyeshah Siddīqah gravely.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, went on,
“Then Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān watched you give it to me over the couch, watched you slam your thick ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into my tight young Musalmān snatch. She came again listening to me squeal about how deep you were and how hard you were fucking me. Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān went to bed that night and dreamed of being on her knees for you. First sucking a hot load from your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund then letting you pound away on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!”
“I see.” I said gravely.
“That’s just what Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān wants to do!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was breathing hard causing her perfect Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits to rise and fall with her breaths. “She comes into our room and sees us fucking. She tells you to keep your Uncut Hindu Lund out and sit down.”
“Then?” I asked, watching Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan carefully.
“Then, she tells you she saw you keeping an eye on her, watching out the window and I was stroking it to her. So she takes her shirt off,” she cupped her tits and stroked her nipples with her thumbs.
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah, you want your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s tits, don’t you?”
“I have a perfect man, I think, haven’t I?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan stepped back between my legs.
I yearned to touch her, but knew once Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was in ‘game mode’ I would have to wait until she gave me the okay.”
“I think you should ask for what you want.”
“Okay, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, can I play with your beautiful Musalmān tits?” The words sounded so wrong, but yet sent a shiver through Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated.
“Hmm, I think you left out something, don’t you?”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, may I squeeze your beautiful Musalmān tits?”
“Well seeing you asked so nicely, I think I’ll let you.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan grabbed my hand and all but shoved her tit in my palm.
“That’s it, squeeze on your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s tit.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, moaned, “Show her how much you want them!”
I switched to her other nipple and as I started rubbing her now wet nipple with my fingers, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, reached down and grabbed my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
I moaned and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sighed,
“Because my Bahū Bégum is fucking hot!” I told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, winking at her, “She is teasing me constantly non stop.”
“I’m fucking hot?” playing Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, laughed, “Then maybe I should take off the rest of my clothes for you!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan unhooked the bra and pulling it off, unsnapped her shorts.
Turning around she pushed them as well as her blue thing down her hips, then bending over in my face, shimmied out of them.
I stared at her tight young Musalmān ass and then smiled when she grabbed her cheeks and spread herself open in front of me.
“How’s Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s pussy look?”
“Then ask me.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, can I fuck your pretty Musalmān pussy?” I smiled impishly.
“Hey don’t tease me anymore, Sālī. Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān!”
“I like that!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
Leaning forward she braced her hands on the desk and with no hesitation I spread her cheeks and plunged my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her hot little Musalmān slit.
“Yeah, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, cried out, “That’s it! Fuck your Bahū Bégum’s young ravenous Musalmān pussy!”
I swirled my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund inside her, then slipped it through her soft wet labial lips and finding her swollen clit rubbed it with my hard ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.
I closed my eyes and envisioned it really being my Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, bent over in front of me.
I rubbed her clit harder and bringing my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund between her young beautiful Musalmān legs buried my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah! Fuck yeah!’ Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan squealed, “Just like that, shove that greatest unique ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund of yours, in and out, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā! Make your Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, cum around your entirely buried ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund!”
I drove my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in and out as hard as I could while tracing her clit in hard fast circles with my it.
“Oh, Durgesh,” she groaned, “Oh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, right there! Look at you making Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān feel so good! You keep fucking and Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān will give you a treat, would you like that?”
“I’d love it!” I moaned into her hot wet Musalmān flesh.
“I bet you will because if you make me cum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān is going to suck on your nice hard ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund! Would you like that? Would you like Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān to give you a blow job? Want her to get on her knees and Oh fuck yeah!”
“Oh, you’re making Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān cum for you! Oh, I am going to be so good to my Hindu lover! Oh, I can taste my Hindu lover’s ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth already!”
Damn that sounded good!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan stopped speaking and after a couple of long drawn out moans, she sank down to her knees.
She rested her head on the desk.
Her back was heaving as she tried to catch her breath and I sat back, patiently awaiting her promise.
Goddamn this was so fucking hot and she hadn’t even gotten to sucking or fucking me yet!
“Wow, you made your Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān come hard!”
“Tell Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān what you want.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān,” I whispered and saw Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan shiver in excitement, “Sālī, Bahū Bégum, suck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“Least I could do.”
I thought Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān was going to go slow and tease, but instead Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan opened wide and took my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund all the way down to my balls.
I cried out in pleasure then moaned when she started sucking me fast and hard.
I grabbed the back of her head and began guiding her beautiful young Musalmān mouth up and down my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund and moaned, “Oh, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, oh that feels so good!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan released my cock with a wet sucking sound,
“You like how Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān sucks your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund? I hope so because I love sucking your Uncut Hindu cock and want you to cum in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth!”
She began to drip down my shaft she took me deep once more and began sucking my cock like it was a race.
‘Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’ was making sloppy slurping sounds and when she reached between my legs and started rubbing my balls I whispered again, but this time with more feeling behind it.
“Oh fuck Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān!” I groaned, “Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh my God, you can suck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund! I..,” I gasped when she started taking me deep with every bob of her head, “Oh, God, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān! Oh you want to make me cum fast for you don’t you?”
She popped my cock out of her mouth long enough to say,
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātoon-e–Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, immediately went back to sucking my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund like a porn star while teasing my balls with her nails.
My legs were shaking and grabbing her hair in my hands I started using it as handles yanking her head up and down my cock.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was moaning and her hips were grinding as she blew me and I tried to keep her going as she had me.
“Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, you look so good with your Hindu lover’s Uncut Hindu Lund in your pnm Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, oh look at you being my sexy little Musalmān slut! You want to take every drop, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān? You want me to cum in your slutty Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan took me down to my balls and began shaking her head back and forth while squeezing my balls.
“Yes,” I moaned, “I’m going to cum for you, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, I…hey!”
“I’ll suck you off another time, but right now your Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, needs that big fucking ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund in her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī young thirty four years old Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!”
Getting up she turned and crawling up onto the bed, wagged her beautiful Musalmān ass at me.
I started fucking her fast and hard.
“You like fucking Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, Durgesh?” she looked over her shoulder at me and I smiled.
“I hope you like fucking your Bahū Bégum because, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I’m going to make you fuck me every night! Would you like that? Would you like fucking Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān all the time?”
“Yes! Oh, fuck yeah! My Bahū Bégum’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot is the best Musalmān Choot my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund needs now! You’ve teased me very much, already, beyond every limit whatsoever.”
“Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā! I love it! Your Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān, is going to fuck you everywhere! The shower, the pool! Honey, your slutty Musalmān Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s going to take you out and blow you right in the car! I’m going to… Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah! Oh my God!”
I gasped and started fucking her harder and she called out, “Durgesh, stop! Please!”
I figured this was part of the game and called out, “You know you don’t want me to stop, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān! You know you want me too…”
“I said stop!” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cried out and pulled forward.
Looking down at her, I began to ask what was wrong when I froze at the sound of Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān’s voice.
“You heard your Bahū Bégum, Durgesh, stop!”
I looked up and I smiled triumphantly.
Standing in the doorway was my Bahū Bégum, Al Waħīdah Al Ůsmān herself.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Jihad Al Vaqār glanced about the spacious office once more.
Was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shrewd enough to play all these games?
Was it possible he deliberately gave her his media empire?
His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, allowed him to have it for a trial year.
Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.
In Delhi, Aap had gotten a landslide victory even on BJP.
INC was finished there altogether.
It couldn’t get even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
What did it mean?
The Anti- Hindu forces were winning again?
Was it the beginning of a Counter Revolution?
Against the ever first Psychological Revolution in the entire history of humankind?
It might be.
The Original ever first Psychological Revolution started with the demand of Midterm 2012.
It took two years to build up the required reality and to bring it up to the reality then.
And now the Counter Revolution?
Well, it isn’t so easy.
If they think they can do it so easily, they were living in fools’ paradise.
The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.
They are also there.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.
She was ready to get going.
She had only one trial year.
“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was carrying a handful of folders.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār motioned her friends and lieutenants to the rattan chairs across from her desk.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt comfortable with them.
Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.
They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.
These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.
There was a running information,
“HVSI Times manages its subscription always on the top.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān smiled at her, “I thought we should too adopt the procedure.”
“HVSI Times represents the revolutionaries that successfully ended the Scam era.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “We haven’t enough capital to compete with HVSI, No one has.”
“Sure, but it’s today. When HVSI started HVSI Times they didn’t have this capital.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
HVSI Times was the dream newspaper.
It has survived the biggest threat of news TV channels.
It somehow always maintained to give something new to its readers the news TV channels couldn’t provide.
As soon as Al Jihad Al Vaqār got the media empire in settlement, she visited HVSI Times herself personally.
It was a multi-story building.
None knew how many stories it had.
They said it was an endless building.
No one believed it.
How a building could be endless.
It was certainly a publicity strategy.
It was the tallest building nevertheless.
The heart of the structure, the one that pumped activity into all the other stories was its Seventh floor.
Most of it was given over to the HVSI Times newsroom.
Its one portion was reserved for the publisher’s suite.
It consisted of the publisher’s main office, the office for my personal secretary and receptionist, a conference and electronic media room, two offices for the advertising director and her assistant, and glassed in cubicles for the managing editor and the assistant managing editor.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never changed anything.
He surrendered it to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as he did find it.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, the temporary heir to the suite and to the building had made few personnel changes.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār retired Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s elderly female secretary on a generous pension and replaced her with her own secretary, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, a smart, brisk, thirtyish young woman with short-cropped dark hair and horn rimmed glasses.
Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.
Again, the difference in the intensity of their ambitions was the decisive factor.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ lacked it.
She stopped somewhat before getting resources she was after, while Al Jihad Al Vaqār didn’t deliberately.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār had more patience in the matter.
“Let’s start with the two of you. I’ve been giving it some thought. You will both be answerable only to me. Outside of general orders, everything I tell you will be kept in strictest confidence. Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, this is a bigger job, much bigger than Special Projects. Your work will be greatly expanded, naturally, accordingly.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās straddled me with her beautiful face towards me.
She was enjoying my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her comparatively immensely young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once again.
I knew it would never be a once only phenomenon.
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
The more aged I grew the crazier they were for me.
“I don’t want to burn my bridges, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said fucking my ever stout ever pleasure giving ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund wildly, “And why should I? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has played with my beautiful body, even if in his own peculiar way. I couldn’t help that. My entire body was at his discretion. If instead of fucking me, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed tongue fucking me more it wasn’t my fault. I am not responsible for it. He has to pay for my time I spent with him. It was precious.”
“Sure,” I agreed with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezing her excellent exquisite boobs and buttocks both.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was harder and harder now into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with her each aggressive thrust.
She was kissing me wildly.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund around its shaft.
“I’m really entitled to this alimony if you should warn Al Nādir Al Ghāzī that HVS Law Internationals were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again. It would keep Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from making a move.”
I laughed cunningly.
“Done, however if all the alimony is going to cease in a few months, why not…”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly.
I smiled coldly.
“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”
“Well?” I asked.
“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”
“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.
“Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. Do you think I’m a gold digger?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me gratefully as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely.
“Thank you,” she thanked me once again for letting her fuck me.
“Are you deceiving Priyavrat Chaturvedī for marrying him?”
“Certainly not,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said earnestly, “Priyavrat Chaturvedī knows each and everything of my previous marriages and my recent relationship with you too. I never play dirty with the persons who never play dirty with me.”
“Yet Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to marry you?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
“What do you think? Am I not that much beautiful?”
“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for you.”
“What do you mean?” I smiled cunningly.
“You won’t do anything for me, even if I keep fucking you?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my naughty eyes.
I winked at her.
“If you keep fucking me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, I can do anything for you, myself, if it isn’t immoral and illegal.”
“Even if I’d be married to Priyavrat Chaturvedī?”
“That’s Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s problem, not mine.” I said gravely.*
There was a note on his table.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, had called him.
Everything has changed fast.
Narendr Modi was delivering fast what he had promised to the one hundred twenty five crore Indians.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, was worried as the other Congresspersons were.
INC couldn’t win even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
It was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.
It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”
“You don’t understand Infinite BrāhmKalp, Muħammad Shakīl.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your Kħālāzād cousin, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, is no more interested in me.”
Muħammad Shakīl was startled.
He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*
He never knew why.
Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.
Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.
“You fool; do you want to make me responsible for what my Abbū did?”
“Certainly not, Ammī, certainly not.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī agreed, “Nevertheless, you can’t blame Pitājī too. He loved you very much. Nānājān was trying his best to convert Pitājī to Islam. Pitājī couldn’t infuriate Hindus by converting himself. He would have lost Hindu votes for himself and INC. INC never permitted him.”*
Despite his increasing age, his eyesight was still very good.
It wasn’t any rare thing now however.
They said it was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”
He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,
“Sit down, Priyavrat.”
“As always Ammī has reported you with heavy bias, Pitājī.”
“I doubted that myself. Yet, son, she is right in one thing. You should marry now.”
“What’s wrong in it if it happens?”
“Durgesh is immensely against Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act everywhere. Yet the entire Brāhmañ Brahmkanyā Brahmāñī Creations are passing it one by one. Durgesh can’t oppose Democracy. Therefore it doesn’t make any difference whether Durgesh is against it or not.”
He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.
“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nādirah Al Faizān let out a little moan as Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan kept massaging her proud Musalmān breasts.
“Ya, your twenty eight years old, excellent, young friend, Al Nādirah Al Faizān, sure has a hot Musalmān body, Durgesh. And if you’re lucky enough to get the one that fucks as good as her, you will be set for life!” Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan said out loud, as he pinched her nipples.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was so turned on, the juices from her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot started running down her legs.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard a gasp from me as I heard her moans.
“Al Nādirah Al Faizān, I sure do hope I get that lucky, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan!” I said.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān looked at me.
I didn’t even bother to take my hand of my now fully hard ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was so big its head was poking out of the top of my briefs.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t take it anymore.
She knew it was going to happen right then.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān reached up, turned the stove off, and thrust her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass back into the groin of her husband who was also in only his boxers.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt as his hard piece throbbed against her exquisite ardent Musalmān butt.
“You haven’t got now a girl yet, Durgesh?” Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan asked me.
“No, still alone now, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan!” I said.
That was when Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan whispered in her ear,
“You hear that Hun? You have to take Durgesh’s aloofness! He is so fucking hot!”
Al Nādirah Al Faizān whispered back in her husband’s ear,
“Allah! Oh my God, you are quite right, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan. Durgesh is so hot, I need to fuck him right now!”
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan kissed her neck, dropped his hands to her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, and stuck a finger deep in her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her moan was loud as Al Nādirah Al Faizān came all over his finger right there in front of me, their ever-infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu!
Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard me gasp.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan said,
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan kept massaging her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and Al Nādirah Al Faizān knew Al Nādirah Al Faizān wasn’t far from orgasm as he dipped two fingers deep inside her folds.
Her moans were strong and loud.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān had given up on putting up a front for me.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān looked over and noticed I was blatantly stroking her ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund now.
It looked so attractive the outline hard and the precum was starting to gather.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān whispered into her husband’s ear that Al Nādirah Al Faizān had to have a taste of mine.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan told Al Nādirah Al Faizān to go ahead for it.
He pulled his fingers out of her dripping cunt and Al Nādirah Al Faizān sauntered over to where I was sitting.
Her eyes were wide with wonder and hope.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was going to make her greatest fantasies come true as Al Nādirah Al Faizān dropped to her knees and pulled down my damp underwear.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled them to her face and licked the tasty wet spot that had formed on account of me.
My Hindu precum tasted brilliant and Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t wait to taste it from the source.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān grabbed my eight inches hard, thick, ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund and her excellent young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body responded with a little jump.
My hard, ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund felt so nice and warm in her hand.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān started to stroke it.
Very slowly, her grip traveled up and down my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund.
When Al Nādirah Al Faizān got to the top of its head, she increased the pressure of her grip and started her journey back down.
This movement caused the eye of my ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund head to open up and let go another teardrop of my Hindu fluid.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān stared for a minute at the glistening drop that had started leaking over the head of my ever-youthful Hindu Prick.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān dropped her head and stuck out her hungry Musalmān tongue, taking her second taste of my salty goodness.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān continued to lick.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān reveled in the cute way my ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund.
It would twitch every time her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue tapped its glands.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was enjoying it very much.
She gripped the base of my Hindu shaft and opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth wide.
There was no turning back as Al Nādirah Al Faizān swallowed my Hindu hardness all the way down her Musalmān throat.
The taboo nature of the whole scene had her head spinning and her heart pounding as she increased the speed of her hot wet blowjob on me.
“Your twenty eight years old, excellent, young friend, Al Nādirah Al Faizān, could sure suck your ever unwavering, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund eh, Durgesh?” Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan say as Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt him move in behind her.
“Oh sure, you ain’t lying Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan! But if she doesn’t stop soon I would gonna blow!” I smiled.
My words only encouraged Al Nādirah Al Faizān to go faster.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted to feel my hot Hindu Semen splash in the back of her Musalmān throat.
Her husband noticed her increased vigor and urged me to do just that.
“Ya Durgesh, that is what she wants, she loves to swallow cum! Shoot your hot Hindu cum right down your hot young Musalmān ladyfriend’s throat, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu! Cum right in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth!” Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan impelled me.
His words must have done something to me because in no time I was raising my hips to thrust my ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund deeper in her Musalmān throat.
“OOOOHHH FFFFUUUCCCKK MMMOOOMMM IIIII’MMM CUUUUMMMINGGG RRRRIIGGHHTTT DDDOOWWNN YOOUURR TTTTTHHRRROOAAT!!!!” I smiled triumphantly proudly.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān didn’t miss a drop and lavished in her taste.
After Al Nādirah Al Faizān swallowed all my Hindu juice Al Nādirah Al Faizān got up off her knees.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt her husband press her body against me from behind,
His hand once again found her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and drove his fingers in deep.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān looked down and saw me staring at Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s finger sliding in and out of her soaked young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
My ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund never lost its hardness and started twitching again from the site.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s finger felt fantastic sliding in and out of her hot young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and soon Al Nādirah Al Faizān was moving her hips back and forth to match the rhythm of his finger fucking.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān then pulled the slinky silk nightdress over her head and made herself completely naked.
Grabbing my head Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled him to her ever-erect proud Musalmān breast to make me kiss her there.
I accepted her tit and kissed it passionately.
The combination of my mouth kissing at her nipple and her husband’s skilled finger deep in her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was too much for Al Nādirah Al Faizān to take and soon her whole body began to shake.
Her foot started tapping like a dog when you scratch the special spot on the body and her knees grew weak as she exploded her hot young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot juice all over her husband’s hand.
Her cum was so intense when it finally subsided I noticed Al Nādirah Al Faizān had left a puddle on the kitchen floor.
It was a great feeling but Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted and needed more.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan could tell it was the time for Al Nādirah Al Faizān to get properly fucked.
“Well, why don’t we all go up to our bedroom and finish this off, right?”
Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan proclaim and Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t have agreed more!
The three of us hurried up to the bedroom.
When we got there, her husband and I both stripped off what little clothing we had.
His cut Musalmān noonī was just begging for attention, while my ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund was demanding it authoritatively.
For a couple of seconds we all seemed to be frozen in our lust and just stood there looking at each other.
Her husband quickly fixed the situation and took control.
“Hun, why don’t you lie down and let Durgesh fuck that sweet young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot of yours?” He said, and in a lustful trance, Al Nādirah Al Faizān got on the bed and spread her legs for me.
“Come on Durgesh, and stick that nicest hard ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund in the ardent Musalmān houselady!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān cried to me.
I immediately got between her legs and gripped my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund aiming it at her wet Musalmān hole.
Her orgasm ripped through her body as soon as my ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund entered her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young twenty eight years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
For a minute, Al Nādirah Al Faizān was in disbelief.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t believe that a simple suggestion from her husband had actually led to the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu actually penetrating her wet young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with my ever-hottest Hindu prick.
Her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot gripped my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund extremely greedily hungrily and soon I was fucking Al Nādirah Al Faizān fast.
Her eyes were wide with excitement.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled her husband’s head down to her tit as my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund continued to thrust deep into her twenty eight years old young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was immensely grateful to her ever-nice Musalmān husband that he never disturbed us for our seven hours nonstop fuck session.
Allah, what a session!
What a Lund!
Durgesh really was the ever best.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān found herself first time entirely fucked as much as she had dreamed of ever.
Her beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends were right.
Durgesh’s ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund was itself a festival into a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, Eīdul Fitr, Mīlādunnabī, everything.
None could compete with Durgesh in it.
He was the number one Sex Champion once.
He held out his tongue and thrust it forward to her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
His hot tongue felt wonderful in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and it didn’t take her long to find a good rhythm with my fucking and her sucking.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan sucked harder on her nipple and Al Nādirah Al Faizān sucked harder through her twenty eight years old young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot on my ever stanch, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān could feel another orgasm building up.
She slid her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot faster over my ever determined, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost talented, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
She started moaning when she began to shake from the incredible orgasm that tore through her body.
Once again her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot gushed her womanly Musalmān juice, this time though it wasn’t wasted on the kitchen floor but instead soaked the Uncut Hindu Lund of her wonderful Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
I just kept thrusting my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost talented, outstanding, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund harder and harder.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted to change things up a bit, so Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth off of Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s cut Musalmān noonī.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan seemed disappointed at first but Al Nādirah Al Faizān soon explained what Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted to do.
“Durgesh, get on your back, I want to ride that stunning ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund of yours!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān said.
I smiled proudly triumphantly and followed her direction.
Soon Al Nādirah Al Faizān was riding her Anant Muslimātchod Hindu’s hard Hindu prick.
Up and down, Al Nādirah Al Faizān drove on my ever-youthful, sixty-five years old, Hindu meat.
It filled her in a completely different way.
My ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund was so deep in her twenty eight years old young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot that as Al Nādirah Al Faizān drove her hips down on it, it impaled herself.
It was then that Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt the most amazing feeling as her husband made her way behind her and spread her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass.
As Al Nādirah Al Faizān continued to fuck me, her husband started licking her tight Musalmān asshole and he sent Al Nādirah Al Faizān into another orgasm.
“Allah, Allah! Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Fuck Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan, yes! Tongue my hot Musalmān ass for the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh’s ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund after this vaginal session! Yes, this is so fucking hot. Durgesh’s ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund in my young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and my Musalmān husband’s tongue in my extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass! We are joining now Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ever precious Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement. Now we can claim for its benefits Modern Democratic Årabia offers. YESSS I’MMM CUMMMING AGGGAIIIN!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān shouted.
Now Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan was on his back, Al Nādirah Al Faizān was riding him on his mouth and I was behind her.
Her hands gently pushed me forward on my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Then Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund at the opening of her slick Musalmān ass.
The feeling was indescribable as I pushed forward.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān could feel her insides filling completely, as I thrust inch after inch of my hard ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund deep into her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass.
When I finally got to the base I stopped for a minute and then started to slowly slide it back out.
The sensation of having both of her holes filled by the two men that Al Nādirah Al Faizān loved the most was probably the greatest physical feeling Al Nādirah Al Faizān had ever experienced.
Soon Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan and I found a rhythm.
We would both exit her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān holes at the same time leaving her feeling totally empty only to thrust back inside her at the same time to make Al Nādirah Al Faizān feel completely and utterly full.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān didn’t even move and let us do all the work.
She just relished in the amazing feelings torching her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass and young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Allah! Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Oh God, YES…FUCK MG EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL, YOUNG, ROUNDED, GORGEOUS, GLAMOROUS, PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ PERFECT FIRM MUSALMĀN ASS AND YOUNG PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ RAVENOUS SAÅŪDĪ ÅRAB WAHĀBĪ MUSALMĀN CHOOT!! ALLAH, AL NĀDIRAH AL FAIZĀN IS GOING TO CUMMMM AGAIN! YES…CUM IN MY EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL, YOUNG, ROUNDED, GORGEOUS, GLAMOROUS, PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ PERFECT FIRM MUSALMĀN ASS AND TONGUE MY YOUNG PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ SAÅŪDĪ ÅRAB WAHĀBĪ MUSALMĀN CHOOT! YES FUCK ME HARDER AND CUM WITH ME, MY WONDERFUL MEN!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān yelled.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt both of us thrust deep into her two Musalmān holes and heard me declare triumphantly proudly,
“Yes…cummmingg up your young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Ass Mmoooooommmmm!”
“Meeeee toooooooo!” Her husband shouted, “Out in the air.”
I smiled, once more announcing triumphantly,
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt as her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was filled by her own husband’s ever-expert Musalmān tongue, and a great Hindu warmth washed deep in her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass as I followed suit.
Her orgasm ripped through her body and her cum shot out of her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot like a fire hose on full blast filling her husband, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s welcoming mouth nonstop.
The three of us collapsed embracing each other tightly.
Her first Ashvinātam experience couldn’t have been any hotter or any more fulfilling.
Her husband and Al Nādirah Al Faizān were hooked on our newfound taboo.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān wondered for a second what it might be like if they brought their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter too, in on the act, and made a mental note to talk to Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan about it later on.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan was already licking her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass cleaning it of my wonderful Hindu semen, with his ever-expert Musalmān tongue.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān smiled triumphantly proudly at Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan.
I watched both of them gravely.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān had successfully cuckolded Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan to herself and me.
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
As they kissed, their movements became more urgent, more passionate, both of them wanting more.
After a few minutes, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās pulled away and turned quickly, clamping her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth over Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s clit while I was fucking her with my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached up and grabbed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s ass.
She pulled her hard to her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth so that she could lick and suck at her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her tongue roamed eagerly from her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass all the way down to her clit.
At first, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās assumed it was Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s finger slipping into her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, but it felt different – longer, thicker.
Then she realised that Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s hands where still holding her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
She sighed as she looked up and saw me beside them.
Her hand was now on my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund, stroking along my hard Hindu length.
She gasped as she pulled my foreskin back along the thick, curved length of my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund to reveal the red, bulbous head already dripping with pre cum.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal watched as I pulled my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund out of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, and moved behind her.
She reached up to stroke my hard, long ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
I moaned out loud, as she wanked me gently, her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth still on Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She pulled my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund towards Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, guiding me into her.
She watched as I stretched Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
It disappeared slowly, just the head at first, and then the whole Hindu length of mine.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās cried out as she felt my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund enter her nineteen years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Even after one year of my almost nonstop lovemaking to her, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wasn’t used to my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
She always found there was always something new my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund could give to her ever ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
What a Penis!
What a Lund!
The Penis Benevolent?
Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun.
Allah knows better.
As I filled her, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot started throbbing around my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
She felt Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s mouth sucking on her ardent Musalmān clit.
Her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth was still hungry to taste her.
I slid my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in and out of her, the first long, slow strokes being replaced by a faster, more urgent rhythm as our mutual pleasure, our need, built.
We all cried out as our climaxes built.
I roared as I drove into Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās one last time, before holding my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund deepest inside her.
She felt it jerking as my balls emptied my Hindu cum into her.
I pulled out of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās rolled off Al Rābiyah Al Faisal, and snuggled up to me as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal did the same, but on the other side of me.
I leant over and kissed them in turn.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās both reached for my heavy ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund, still erect between my my strong Hindu male thighs, still anointed with Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s fragrant Musalmān juices.
I continued to fuck them as we slept again, not worn out even from our early morning exertions.*
It was my birthday.
I was sixty-five.
As usual, I woke up with a raging hardon.
Not all that unusual for a horny young man like me.
What was unusual today was what was causing it.
As I drifted from sleep to waking, I could feel something bringing me up, or bringing my ever stalwart, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, fabulous, Uncut Hindu Lund up at least.
Realizing I wasn’t dreaming, I slowly looked down to see, to my incredible surprise, a gorgeous young woman of about twenty-eight with long auburn hair, beautiful tits in a crimson lace chemise.
Her wide pink mouth was wrapped around the shaft of my ever stalwart, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, fabulous, Uncut Hindu Lund and her delicate young beautiful Musalmān hand stroked the base of it.
It was Al Faisal Al Ħasan’s wife, Al Jalal Al Islam.
“Al Jalal Al Islam?” I asked, shocked, “What the hell is happening? You’re sucking my ever stalwart, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, fabulous, Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“Mmm,” she sighed, letting my Uncut Hindu Lund slip Momentarily from her mouth, “Happy Birthday, Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām. You’re sixty-five. I thought you’d like a special birthday wake up.”
“What the hell!” I said.
“It’s a grand celebration for a whole year from this very moment.” Al Faisal Al Ħasan’s wife, Al Jalal Al Islam, winked at me, teasing me.
Al Faisal Al Ħasan was Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s son.
He never approved of his Abbū’s activities.
“I love it, Al Faisal Al Ħasan,” Al Faisal Al Ħasan’s wife, Al Jalal Al Islam, said curtly, “You should too. Every dīndār and sincere Musalmān should actually.”*
Al Nādirah Al Faisal and I had been fucking each other for more than a year.
I was Al Nādirah Al Faisal’s, though not exclusively.
The exclusion was entirely impossible for I was already married to Saiyadah Fātimah PhD even before Al Nādirah Al Faisal came in my life.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal shared my bed every night.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal was totally in love with me, and I was in love with Al Nādirah Al Faisal.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal heard my car pull into the driveway, and she greeted me at the front door.
Throwing her arms around my neck, Al Nādirah Al Faisal pulled me close to her and covered my mouth with hers.
It wasn’t a daughterly “welcome home” kiss, it was deep and passionate, including lots of tongue.
“Hi, Al Nādirah Al Faisal.”
I had called her “Al Nādirah Al Faisal” as long as she could remember, starting when Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a little girl.
Now that Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a grown woman, at nineteen, I still calls Al Nādirah Al Faisal that.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal loved it.
I was a Juice drinker.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal poured me a double shot.
I hated liquor.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal had a glass of wine.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal snuggled up next to me and asked me about my day.
I was a Sex Therapist, specializing in beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Expensive cure.
The house HVSI built for Al Nādirah Al Faisal and I was all redwood, natural stone, and lots of glass.
It sat on ten acres, surrounded by woods, and we have a beautiful swimming pool in the backyard.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal and I swim naked.
I was Sixty-Five, but I looked thirty years younger. I had broad shoulders.
I was well muscled, due to my years of sex therapy work.
I still had black hair, miraculously, and black seductive eyes.
I was her idol. Her stepfather, her lover, her best friend.
As Al Nādirah Al Faisal said, we’ve been lovers for about a year, starting just after her eighteenth birthday.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal developed a terrible crush on me just when she entered puberty and her body started to change.
I didn’t make any overt moves toward Al Nādirah Al Faisal for several years; neither could she tell I was looking at Al Nādirah Al Faisal in a different way.
Once her beautiful Musalmān breasts formed their first little buds, they grew rapidly.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a B cup in the ninth grade, and by the time Al Nādirah Al Faisal was a senior in high school, Al Nādirah Al Faisal had grown into the C cup that Al Nādirah Al Faisal was now.
I was very open and very frank with Al Nādirah Al Faisal when it came to discussing anything of a sexual nature.
If Al Nādirah Al Faisal had any questions about sex, I would answer them for Al Nādirah Al Faisal, without any admonishments or judgment.
I was quite aware that a lot of teenagers were sexually active, so with the pill, I felt Al Nādirah Al Faisal would be safe.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal had a lot of girlfriends in high school, yet nothing serious.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal did a bunch of making out and a little light touching, through our clothes, but that was the extent of her sexual activity.
I finished my juice, and Al Nādirah Al Faisal mixed her another one.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal sat down beside me, cuddled up, and nuzzled her neck, raining little butterfly kisses all over my face.
Fisting my hand in her hair, I pulled her face into me, and Al Nādirah Al Faisal crushed her lips down on mine.
Kissing me totally intoxicated Al Nādirah Al Faisal, inflamed her with desire.
When I kissed Al Nādirah Al Faisal, there was a hotline between her lips and her clit.
It started to tingle, and Al Nādirah Al Faisal squirmed next to me.
Her mouth was more insistent as I undid the button on her Levi’s and she pulled my zipper down.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal could hear me groan appreciating Al Nādirah Al Faisal, as her hand reached under her shorts, wrapping it around my hardened Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund shaft.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal tugged on my pants and pulled them down, exposing my magnificent Sixty five years old, utmost veteran, utmost capable, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund , totally hard, the bulbous head shining and swollen.
Bending down toward me, Al Nādirah Al Faisal took my Sixty five years old, utmost proficient, utmost clever, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund in her hand and lowered her head, taking me in her beautiful young Musalmān mouth.
This drove me crazy, and my hips started to buck, my Sixty five years old, ultimate experienced, ultimate talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund rising up to meet her beautiful young Musalmān mouth every time it went down.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal cupped my balls in her hand, fondling them first, and then pulling my scrotum down, in rhythm with her descending mouth.
A growl emitted from deep in her throat.
I threw my head back and fisting both hands in her hair, I pulled her beautiful Musalmān head up and down as I thrust up my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal was never surprised that it went on for hours.
She was habitual of my ever lasting sexual prowess now entirely.
My every woman was habitual of it gradually ultimately, sooner or later.
Ultimately, Al Nādirah Al Faisal knew I was getting close to release.
I held her tighter.
My balls started to draw up tight.
Gently, Al Nādirah Al Faisal raked her fingernails over my hardened sack, and that pushed me over the edge.
Swallowing it all, Al Nādirah Al Faisal looked at up me and smiled.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal really loved to make me cum like this, because Al Nādirah Al Faisal knew very well, how much I’d pay it back to her into her young ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, when we go to bed that night.
Leaving me sated, Al Nādirah Al Faisal got up and made our supper.
Over the years, Al Nādirah Al Faisal had become a really good cook.
That night, Al Nādirah Al Faisal made poached salmon, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and baby red potatoes.
We had just finished dinner, when the phone rang.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal answered it, and with a scowl, handed it to me.
“It’s HER,” Al Nādirah Al Faisal said.
“Her” referred to her Ammī.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal could never call her Ammī or Mom.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal hated her.
I talked with her for a while.
Al Nādirah Al Faisal couldn’t make much from my side of the conversation, except for an “Uh huh.” “I see.” “Yes.” “I’ll be there.”
“What was that about, Durgesh darling?”
“Well, it seems Al Waħīdah Al Faisal is coming to live with us.”
“Why, Lillāh?” Al Nādirah Al Faisal wailed.*
It was mid morning when we were all awake again.
We stayed together until lunchtime, making love, the three of us enjoying each other’s company, each other’s excellent bodies.
Each of them was as if crazy for me.
I knew very well that it wasn’t my utmost sexual expertise only that, was making even these teenagers crazy to fuck me.
It was the deliberately planned strategy of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Modern Democratic Årabia, the Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Modern Democratic Årabia too now, their Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, etctera.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan didn’t want originally to let it happen in this way.
Nevertheless, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was more popular and more capable now.
“She is using the ever unquenched thirst of optimum sex of beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Durgesh, my son.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the great man, commented on it gravely, “I wanted to establish Islamic Democracy in the so called Islamic countries and Musalmīn. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s idea of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah was never in my imagination.”
“That’s what I said, Abbū.” I commented gravely myself.
“I thought I could use my daughter’s immense obsession to you, positively.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said ruefully.
“She is trying to make almost every beautiful Musalmān houselady my wife and my wife only. It’s the ever oldest ‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Ummil Åālmīnam’ movement, nothing else.”
“Projection of that time cycle?”
“Why do you think you aren’t Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām?”
They shared my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund as I lay back on the bed, our mouths and hands everywhere.
They watched as a torrent of my Hindu cum exploded from my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund, splattering onto their exquisite young Musalmān breasts and tummies.
I watched as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal licked and sucked my Hindu cum off my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, watched as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās writhed under our lovers’ lips and tongue and mouth.
We lay side by side, our bodies pressed together as we kissed, our hands moving over each other’s sexy bodies.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal stroked me as I watched, my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund long and hard in Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s hand.
My Hindu shaft was throbbing.
I moved behind Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as she knelt over Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, all of us moaning as I eased my Ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, extreme expert, unique, paramount celebrated, Uncut Hindu Lund into Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I moaned as her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sucked me in deep, moulding itself around my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
And Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moaned as she watched my Ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, ultimate renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund disappear into Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s beautiful ardent Musalmān Choot, as she reached up and ran her Musalmān tongue over my Hindu balls.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās watched my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund for few moments, watching it slide in and out of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal immediately reached out for the end of the bed, arching her back, urging me to fuck her harder, to fuck her deeper, faster.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās knelt beside her, reaching for Al Rābiyah Al Faisal‘s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, touching and caressing her.
As Al Rābiyah Al Faisal came again, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was pulsating around my perpetually resolute, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass was in the air, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was wet and ready.
I pulled my perpetually resolute, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund out of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as her orgasm subsided and drove it straight into my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady’s waiting luscious Musalmān body.
I fucked her hard.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was now beside me.
Her hand reached between my legs for my swaying Hindu balls.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās cried out as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, quickly matching the rhythm of my thrusting perpetually resolute, ever implausible, sixty-five years old, ultimate accomplished, unique, utmost prominent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās almost sobbed as I pulled out of her, but then thrust back with a groan as she felt my ever stout, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost skilled, unique, utmost renowned, Uncut Hindu Lund nudging against her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal fell back on the bed.
After holding each other for long minutes, we all showered, all too aware that our time together was at an end.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Her Three Generations
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I went out later, wandering from our city centre hotel down towards the Coliseum, before walking back through the roman Forum.
We stopped often, soaking up the atmosphere, imagining the roar of the crowds hundreds of years before, imagining the Senators meeting, talking, and plotting.
It was an unseasonably warm day.
We found a café and sat outside to eat Pizza, drink coffee and watch the world go by.
We took a horse drawn carriage to the pantheon, and marvelled at the beauty of the paintings and sculptures inside.
We walked around the city, soaking up the atmosphere and history, walking hand in hand, enjoying being together.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās still couldn’t believe she was too my wife now despite the fact that she was only Just Eighteen Just Adult when she first succeeded in having my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-four years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund into her then Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She was jealous of her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, when she deliberately watched her having sex with me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could never understand why her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, revolted against her Nānā Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan and started to live openly with his ever greatest enemy, the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh.
“Kħālājān, I hate Nānī Ammī immensely.” She told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan expressly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“I myself hate her, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās. But we can’t do anything.”
“Now I understand why the Musalmīn turn to be terrorists.” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās said furiously, “The Hindus always manage to have sex with our ever sacred Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān womankind, either this way or that way.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her elder sister’s daughter calculatingly.
She couldn’t be more than thirteen now.
At the most, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could be fourteen only.
He hated wild animal sex basically.
It wasn’t a human act for him ever.
Yet, Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, needed it very much.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, actually never had another option.
Not even any other Hindu male.
Not perhaps even Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Moreover, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was an ardent anti Muslim Hindu, even if Nafīsah Salmān could forget that Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a criminal that was immensely capable to dodge the law and order of every country anywhere.
He was Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar actually.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar never did it.
He never needed to.
As it began to get dark, we returned to the hotel, to the suite we now shared.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband spotted Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s bikini and teased her, asking if she had managed to get a swim that morning.
“Come on,” she retorted, grabbing her bikini, “Let’s go now.”
“I can think of other things to do,” I told her.
She stripped off, standing naked before me.
Her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body was firm and beautiful.
However, with a laugh, she wriggled away from me and pulled her bikini on quickly.
She reached into a draw and threw me my trunks.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got changed quickly.
We both pulled on the robes the hotel provided before heading out towards the lifts.
Minutes later Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I were at the indoor pool.
Dropping her gown on a sun bed, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stepped towards the water and dived in gracefully.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband followed her more sedately, and began to swim a few lengths, always looking out for Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
She swam well, passing me a few times as her years of practice began to show.
After swimming a couple of dozen lengths, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband stopped at the shallow end and rested, my back against the edge of the pool.
We were alone now, the last of the other swimmers having just left.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stopped next to me, both of us were glancing across at where we had met the night before.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband moved to stand in front of her.
Reaching out, I stepped closer.
My hands were on her hips.
We kissed softly.
Our Ashvinātam bodies were very close.
Despite the fact that I was sixty-five years old now, I never appeared my age.
Everyone thought I was anywhere between twenty-eight and thirty-five only.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was nineteen now.
We were fucking each other now for a complete year already.
As we parted, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās smiled.
“It looks different in daylight,” she murmured, thinking of the night before.
“I try not to think about,” The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband told her.
“Why not,” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Because this happens,” I told, taking her hand and pressing it against the hard Hindu bulge in my trunks.
“Swim then,” she laughed, dodging past me and swimming away, teasing me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband swam after her, but she had disappeared over to the other side of the pool.
I went after her, missing her time and again.
Each time the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got closer, I reached out to her, touching her, and then she was gone.
She touched my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in passing, teasing me, but always evading me.
Eventually I caught her, laughing, in the corner.
I pulled Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās to me, kissing her hard, feeling her firm extremely beautiful female Musalmān young body against me, her erect nipples pressing into my chest, my hard ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund against her.
She pressed herself against me, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sliding up and down the ridge of my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through my swimming trunks.
She wriggled free, and dropped below the surface of the water.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands tugged at my trunks, pulling my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund free.
It sprang up, released from its restraints, unaffected by the cold water.
Her beautiful quivering red crimson ardent Musalmān lips were forming a seal around me. Her tongue lapped at my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head, buried in her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
She took my balls in one hand, her other hand on my buttocks, holding me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband groaned as this seemed to last for ages, but in reality it was only seconds before she shot to the surface, gasping for breath.
With barely a glance around, we moved to the shallow part of the pool, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund jutting out in front of me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband lifted her onto the edge of the pool, my lips locking onto hers as we held each other tight.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās grabbed my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund, peeling the skin back down my shaft, pulling my swollen ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head towards her.
Dragging her bikini bottoms to one side, she exposed her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to me.
I caught a quick glimpse of her wet, wanton lips and then I was inside her.
I pushed forward as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wrapped her beautiful nude Musalmān legs around me, pulling tight as I drove my thick Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund deep inside Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s young Musalmān body.
As we fucked, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband tugged at the strings of her bikini top, pulling it away from her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, freeing her full exquisite young Musalmān breasts.
Her nipples were like pebbles pressing into my chest as we kissed, as we fucked.
Her beautiful nude Musalmān legs tightened around me, pulling me deeper and deeper inside her as I fucked her faster and faster.
She leant back; her arms behind her, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts thrust upwards, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot pushed forward towards me.
It lasted we never knew for how long.
I always fucked her as if I was a wild animal that had gone mad.
She had always to acknowledge her defeat.
She never found her Kħālājān, now thirty-three years old, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, ever winning over me.
The ever wonderful man was defeating her three generations, including herself.
His sexual lust to fuck beautiful Musalmān houseladies of any age whatsoever was incredible.
Durgesh could just fuck them endlessly with ever increasing manly vigor even.
Ultimately, we were cumming, crying out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot moulded itself tighter around my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
The waves of pleasure crashed through her, as spurts of my warm, thick Hindu cum filled her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
We clung together, gasping to breathe, then laughing at our release, then controlling ourselves as we remembered where we were.
We dressed ultimately.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband was pulling my trunks up while Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās re-tied her top and straightened her bottoms.
We swam back to the far end of the pool, before climbing out and grabbing some towels from the pile left by the hotel.
Pulling our robes back on, we headed back to our room, eager to be alone again.*
It was late evening when we left the hotel.
We were heading towards the hard Rock Café, a venue we always enjoyed.
Fortunately, we were seated within half an hour of arriving, and were soon pondering the menu while she was sipping on ice-cold beers and I a juice.
“Hi, I’m Al Rābiyah Al Faisal. I’m your waitress for the evening.”
We both looked up from the menus and said “Hello” to our server.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was tall and slender, in her mid twenties.
Her accented English was almost perfect.
Her dark hair was tied back, her white blouse clinging to her pert Musalmān body, her green skirt short and tight around her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband cried out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kicked me on the shins, an amused grin on her face as she watched me watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was back shortly to take our orders.
She stood next to me, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder as we smiled.
When we had ordered, she ran her hand lightly down my arm and thanked us, before sashaying away.
Her hips were swinging.
Her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass was rocking from side to side in her tight skirt.
Throughout the evening, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was friendly and attentive, always touching my arm and running her hand down it when we were finished chatting.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās took all of this in with amusement, and not with even a little jealousy.
However, moments later it was I teasing her as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal brought Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s dessert.
She rested her hand on Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s arm as she put the ice cream in front of her, then ran her hand down her arm and squeezed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand gently.
“Enjoy!” she told her.
“In which case,” I told Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walked away, “She must fancy you as well.”
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wasn’t listening – she was far too busy watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walking away, her eyes locked on her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, her tongue flicking over her suddenly dry lips.
I took all of this in, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was hardening as I watched my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady, my lover, looking at the waitress.
Suddenly I remembered the way Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās had looked at other girls before, some of the comments she had made, especially about the beautiful dancer we had seen at the moulin Rouge when we were in Paris – and I began to wonder…
When we were finished, I paid the bill and left the beautiful Al Rābiyah Al Faisal an extravagant tip.
She thanked me, leaning over to kiss me on my lips naughtily, before hugging Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
I watched them.
As we left, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal squeezed our arms one last time, then told us that she had enjoyed meeting us, and that she finished at eleven if we fancied a drink.
Then, with a delicious, inviting smile, she was gone.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I stared at each other, not quite sure what to make of what Al Rābiyah Al Faisal had said.
Nevertheless, both our bodies reacted to those words, to her look.
We didn’t mention Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as we walked through Rome, heading for the Tivoli fountain, wanting to see it lit up at night.
We stood by the fountains, enjoying the sound of the water, the sight of the beautiful statues and carvings.
I gave Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās a coin and told her to throw it over her shoulder into the fountain and make a wish.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās did, closing her eyes and making her wish as I watched her.
“Well,” I asked, “What did you wish for?”
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās hesitated for a moment then told me, her voice husky and her eyes bright.
“I wished we could …… make it back to the café before eleven.”
I stared at her, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund growing hard as I took in her words, the expression on her face.
I glanced at my watch, then grabbed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand and led her back the way we had come.*
We made it just in time, but then felt uncertain as we watched Al Rābiyah Al Faisal appear from the restaurant with some other waitresses.
We stood watching her, hesitating, not sure what to do when Al Rābiyah Al Faisal turned and saw us.
Her face lit up with that delicious smile again.
she quickly said goodbye to the others before walking to meet Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and me.
We both watched her walking those dozen yards.
Her long coat was undone, falling open as she walked.
She was wearing the same clothes as before, but this time our eyes were on her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, taut against her blouse, her nipples dark and promising, and on her long legs.
She appeared from beneath her coat with each step, her skirt rising high up on her stocking clad thighs.
“You made it,” she greeted us, stepping between us, turning and looping her arms through ours.
“Where shall we go,” she continued, hardly drawing breath, “Lots of places are closing now … How about your hotel? Does it have a bar? Is it far?”
I smiled and said that it wasn’t far, and then led the way.
We chatted as we walked, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s cheery banter easing any uncertainty Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I might have had, although neither of us thought about where this might lead.
It only took us fifteen minutes or so to get back to the hotel, but as soon as we walked into reception, we were hit by the noise of a huge party going on.
The bar was packed, as were the lounges around reception.
I looked around for somewhere quieter.
“How about our room?” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās asked, her voice trembling slightly, “It’s big enough …. Is that okay with you Al Rābiyah Al Faisal?”
“That’s great …. Let’s use room service to get a drink; it’ll be quicker than hanging around here.”
Almost in a daze, still unsure of what was happening; Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās led the way to the lift.
Minutes later, we were back in our suite, and I was on the phone to room service ordering a bottle of champagne.
I dropped the phone back on its rest and turned back to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal to tell them that the champagne was on its way.
Nevertheless, I was suddenly too cautious to speak as I took in the sight before me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal stood close together.
Their exquisite young Musalmān breasts were touching, their hips pushing forward against each other, their mouths locked together.
They parted as they sensed I was looking at them.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās came to me and kissed me softly.
I could taste Al Rābiyah Al Faisal on her as our tongues slipped over each other.
Then Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was next to me, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing against my arm, firm and warm.
As soon as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lips left my, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was kissing me, her agile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue flicking along my Hindu male lips before slipping deep into my Hindu mouth.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal led the way to the sofa in the sitting room part of the suite.
We all sank down, I in the middle, as we took turns to kiss, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I.
Our hands found each other easily, touching, caressing.
We stopped only when we heard tapping on the door, and a call of “room service”.
I let the waiter into the room, noticing the looks both Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās gave me.
He put the champagne on the side, and left as soon as I had tipped him.
I poured their drinks, handing glasses to Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās before rejoining them.
They sipped their champagne.
We chatted, totally at ease, happy for the growing sexual tension to grow even more, for our need and desire to grow.
After what seemed like an age, I leant over Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and put my glass of juice down. I took hers from her and placed it next to mine before taking her in my arms.
I kissed her softly, my hands caressing her pert exquisite young Musalmān breasts through her blouse.
Slowly, I undid each of the buttons down the front of her blouse, conscious of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moving to kneel in front of us so that she could help.
As soon as the buttons were undone, I eased Al Rābiyah Al Faisal onto her back on the sofa.
I pulled her blouse open, gasping as I stared down at her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, at her dark nipples barely hidden by the lace of her cream bra.
I touched her lightly, my hands moving up her sides, then across to her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, to her hard nipples.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was still kneeling on the floor beside us.
Reaching down between my hands, between Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, she gently undid the clasp at the front of the cream bra.
I slid my hands across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, into the deep Musalmān valley between them, before slipping my Hindu hands under the edge of each cup, and then slowly back across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, exposing them to our gaze.
I felt the firmness of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts under my hands, of her hard, puckered nipples.
As my hands reached her sides, leaving her exquisite young Musalmān breasts totally exposed, both Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I gasped as we took in their beauty.
I dipped my hand, taking Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s nipple in between my thumb and forefinger.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās leant over her, and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal moaned loudly as both her nipples were teased.
I ran my hand over her flat tummy, over her skirt.
I rubbed down the front of her panties, feeling her wetness, feeling her juices rushing from her.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moved away from her breast, and the two girls kissed – soft, passionate kisses that set them all moaning.
As my hand reached inside Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s panties, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood up.
She moved away a little, so that Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I could see her.
We watched as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās danced slowly, sensually, undoing the buttons down the front of her dress, before pushing the dress off her shoulders.
It fell to the ground as she ran her hands over her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, pinching her own nipples.
Now Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood before them, naked apart from her thong.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands ran lower, until one was on her tummy, and one inside her underwear.
She turned around, and bent over to slip her thong off, pointing her firm Musalmān ass at us.
Her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was peeking out between her beautiful nude Musalmān legs.
She turned back towards us, and held out her hands.
“Let’s go to bed,” was all she said.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached her hands up to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, and stood up.
The girls fell naturally into each other’s arms, their naked exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing together.
We kissed again.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was painfully hard.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal ran her hands down Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s back, down to her firm Musalmān ass.
I moved behind her, pushing her dark hair to one side so that I could kiss her neck.
I pulled her blouse and bra down her arms, leaving her topless.
As the girls carried on kissing, moaning softly as our tongues explored, I dropped to my knees, scattering kisses down Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s slender back.
I unzipped her skirt, easing it down off her hips.
All she wore under it was a cream thong and her black hold up stockings.
Her rounded Musalmān buttocks were firm, creamy white against the rest of her.
I kissed each side of her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass gently, before easing her thong down.
I eased her stockings down as well, one at a time, leaving her naked.
Her moaning got louder as I ran my Uncut Hindu Lund between her pert Musalmān cheeks.
She pushed her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass out, exposing more of herself to me.
I teased her tight little hole with the tip of my Uncut Hindu Lund, holding her hips and pulling her to me.
I stood up and led these two naked, gorgeous Musalmān women to the bed.
The contrast between them was amazing.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was more slender, darker.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was more rounded, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts and hips fuller but still wonderfully firm, both of them incredibly sexy.
Once by the bed, they both turned to me.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal kissed me.
Our kiss was soft and gentle to start with, growing quickly in passion as our tongues came into play.
We stopped kissing briefly as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās pulled my shirt over my head.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal immediately leant down, kissing and biting me.
Her hand reached for my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through the thin material of my trousers, squeezing it.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal dropped to her knees in front of me, still looking up at me.
I sensed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kneeling down behind me.
Their hands pulled my trousers, dragging them and my underwear over my hips, down my thighs and off.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund sprung up, standing out rigid, pre cum dripping from the tip.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as it pointed at her, her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth automatically slipping over the tip, greedily sucking my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head into her hungry extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh
“Durgesh…what are you doing?” Assalāt Al Fajir asked her Ammī’s Hindu Live in Relationship Partner, Durgesh.
“I’m no longer sleeping with your Ammī. This is going to be my new home…at least for now. I’m sorry you had to see this sweetie, but I’m out of patience with the current situation. Now I’m going in here and just want to be alone for a while ok Assalāt Al Fajir.” I said to Al Jihad Al Islam’s immensely beautiful young sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter as I walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Assalāt Al Fajir closed the door behind her and looked at Asshams Al Islam, who was now sitting up in bed.
“I know…I heard. I guess Ammī got her wish, that Durgesh move out, which it sounded as if I might soon.” Asshams Al Islam said shaking her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head. “Allah, I hate that Over Musalmān bitch, why does she have to do this to Durgesh…to all of us?” Asshams Al Islam said, and looked like she was about to cry again.
Assalāt Al Fajir knew how she felt, but she wasn’t sad enough to cry.
She was thinking and the gears were turning inside her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head.
“You know Asshams Al Islam…with Durgesh sleeping in the room down the hall, instead of with Ammī…She would never know if Durgesh was to do anything while in there.” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister, but Asshams Al Islam gave her a confused look.
“I don’t understand, Assalāt Al Fajir.” Asshams Al Islam said as she cleared the tears away.
Assalāt Al Fajir sat on the bed next to her.
“I mean…that if Durgesh was having sex with someone…Ammī would never know. Even if Durgesh is having sex…with us!” Assalāt Al Fajir said spelling it out for her sister.
Asshams Al Islam’s eyes got wider and so did her smile.
“You think we could pull it off…would I go for it you think?” Asshams Al Islam asked her sister, and Assalāt Al Fajir now thought it interesting that Asshams Al Islam was asking her advice on sex.
“Well, Durgesh hasn’t been getting a lot from Ammī it seems…and as you sort of said in the kitchen, Durgesh does spend a LOT of time in his study. I bet it can’t all be work. I bet he… fucks our Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Musalmān girlfriends or Ammī’s, every night in there.” Assalāt Al Fajir said, still not used to saying naughty words, but she was getting practice in.
Asshams Al Islam grinned at her sister, and hugged her.
“Maybe we can come up with a plan…to seduce Durgesh. And Ammī will never know. And if Durgesh does move out…we’ll go with Durgesh, of course. I wouldn’t want to live with that bitch.” Asshams Al Islam said as she pulled from the hug.
Assalāt Al Fajir gave her sister a strange look.
She had liked her sister’s contact.
“Yes, we’ll go with Durgesh…but I still wish you wouldn’t call Ammī ‘bitch’. She’s still our Ammī…and I do still love her. Like Durgesh, I still hope she’ll come back to us one day.” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister.
“Ok Assalāt Al Fajir, I’ll try…but from here on we have a goal…to get Durgesh to have sex with us. Now all we need is a plan.” Asshams Al Islam said, as she stood up, excited that maybe…soon, she would get the man she had loved for so long.
Assalāt Al Fajir watched her sister, and felt her excitement, for her Ammī’s Hindu Live in Relationship Partner, Durgesh…and for Asshams Al Islam.
A plan was forming in her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head that might get her both of them.
“Yeah a plan….I might just have one, Asshams Al Islam….I might just have one.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she looked at the door to the hallway. “But as Ammī would say, have faith, Asshams Al Islam…in the end, we’ll get what we want….in the end.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she smiled at Asshams Al Islam.*
Al Jihad Al Islam stood in the kitchen finishing up the cleaning, the tears having stopped a little while ago.
She couldn’t understand why her family didn’t want her to embrace Islam fully.
They didn’t understand that I had saved her from walking down a path of sex and sin.
Why couldn’t they see she tried to live according to Islam, and that she needed me in her life.
But Al Jihad Al Islam also knew she needed me and her girls.
She was doing it for us….not for herself.
She had to.
Allah was helping her to be strong from temptation.
Nevertheless, Al Jihad Al Islam also saw that because of her devotion to Islam, she was losing her family, when she so desperately needed them, just as much as she needed Islam.
Al Jihad Al Islam decided she needed guidance on what to do…she decided she needed to talk to Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.
Maybe Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī could help her gain guidance through Islam.
Besides, Al Jihad Al Islam had a feeling her family didn’t want to see much of her now today.
Al Jihad Al Islam went into her room, showered and dressed.
She didn’t see any of her family; they must all be in their rooms, she thought.
Al Jihad Al Islam decided to leave her family a note, saying she had gone to Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī and she would be back in a few hours.
Al Jihad Al Islam walked to the front door and left the house, taking one of the cars.
As she pulled into the street, she looked over her house, and prayed to Allah that they would soon be a family again.
She then drove off down the street.*
A while later I came out of the bedroom, still feeling angry but knowing I couldn’t sit in there thinking how to control it all day.
As I walked down the hall, I heard the girls laughing about something in Asshams Al Islam’s room.
I smiled, thinking that some of the family was happy at least for a while.
I continued into the living room and into the kitchen, where I found Al Jihad Al Islam’s note and quickly read it.
I stood there for a minute, then balled up the note and threw it into the trash.
“She couldn’t even stay away from her Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī long enough to try and talk about what had happened earlier.” I said aloud, feeling angrier.
Every effort to bring them in the mainstream was backfiring usually.
It wasn’t easy.
The persona like Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī always make it difficult.
Even Al Jihad Al Islam…
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Don’t worry. Her thirty years and twenty eight years old, tremendously attractive, young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughters, Asshams Al Islam and Assalāt Al Fajir are planning to fuck you themselves there. Please, don’t leave the home.”
I was startled.
It was a fun to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, reincarnated, to arrange something sexy for me I didn’t approve of.
The ever first President of Modern Democratic Årabia immensely enjoyed it.
I didn’t object why she was doing it.
She was crazy to establish her dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
And she was succeeding in it sooner than even I had expected.
I never wondered if I should truly consider divorce.
It wasn’t any solution for a Hindu at all.
The girls were now over 18.
They were no longer an issue.
If they wanted to stay with Al Jihad Al Islam or go with me if I left, that was their choice.
Nevertheless, I still didn’t want to split the family.
It wasn’t any solution for me.
All of them now slept under one roof, and that’s how I liked it.
I had never even liked the idea of the girls growing up and moving away, even when they were little.
I sighed, and decided little I could do about anything now at present immediately.
My wife, my Live in Relationship Partner, Al Jihad Al Islam, Asshams Al Islam’s and Asshams Al Islam’s and Assalāt Al Fajir’s still extremely beautiful Ammī, was gone and would be for some while.
Naturally, any talk with her, immediately, was out of question.
I decided go into my study.
I walked over to it, entered in, and closed the door.
Asshams Al Islam and Assalāt Al Fajir remained in Asshams Al Islam’s room for some time.
Assalāt Al Fajir refused to tell her sister her plan at first, saying she wasn’t done thinking yet.
The two of them sat in Asshams Al Islam’s room and watched the TV she too had in her room.
They had watched some comedy show on the comedy network, until it was over with, then Asshams Al Islam again became frustrated and wanted to know what was going on behind Assalāt Al Fajir’s head.
“Come on, Assalāt Al Fajir…out with it, I’m dying here, waiting for this grand plan of yours.” Asshams Al Islam said, needing to know her sister’s plan.
“Ok, ok, Asshams Al Islam. I’m not finished I think. Maybe you can throw some stuff in. Ok, Durgesh more than likely stays in his study and fucks someone of our ladyfriends when everyone’s asleep. I think we should make sure I can’t finish once I get started.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she looked at her sister.
“What does that mean Assalāt Al Fajir, we knock on his door and tell me to stop fucking our ladyfriends or else. I don’t think I would like that much.” Asshams Al Islam said, not thinking much of her sister’s plan.
“No, not like that, Asshams Al Islam, but we do interrupt him while he’s doing it. It has to be after Ammī is asleep, and then we come up with excuses why we need to disturb him in my study. I hope that we’ll catch him after he has started…you know…fucking someone. Then we interrupt him, and keep doing it until he has to go to bed.” Assalāt Al Fajir said feeling proud of herself for coming up with such a good plan.
Asshams Al Islam had another opinion of it.
“Assalāt Al Fajir, I can tell you don’t know guys very well. Even if Durgesh can’t finish in the study, if he’s really worked up he will just wait until he gets to bed then finish there. Well…unless he is no longer turned on, or turned off somehow.” Asshams Al Islam said, just thinking to herself out loud.
Nevertheless, Assalāt Al Fajir got an idea.
“Hey…I know something that would turn Durgesh off…Ammī. If she caught Durgesh in there…fucking one of our immensely beautiful friends, she would be mad as hell. That would make Durgesh forget about finishing.” Assalāt Al Fajir said to her sister, Asshams Al Islam.
“Maybe, but it might come out to Durgesh that we told Ammī he was doing it…they both would be mad at us.” Asshams Al Islam pointed out to her twenty eight years old younger Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān sister.
“We could try and get Ammī in there without telling her, but how?” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister.
“Well, you know, we’ll have to interrupt Durgesh at least a few times for him to give up trying maybe; we can try and use all the ideas. We just have to be careful and not make Durgesh think we’re up to anything….or Ammī either.” Asshams Al Islam said.
She then noticed the time and wondered if her parents had made any plans for later today.
Asshams Al Islam grinned and eagerly shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head.
They both got up from the bed.
Asshams Al Islam opened the door.
“Besides, I’m hungry now…” Asshams Al Islam said looking back at her sister.
Assalāt Al Fajir shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head in agreement.
However, she was thinking that she wouldn’t mind Asshams Al Islam eating something else.
Yet Assalāt Al Fajir was too shy to tell her sister.
She just followed Asshams Al Islam out of the door.
Assalāt Al Fajir leaned against the counter and waited for her sister to finish.
She then noticed Asshams Al Islam’s butt, being stuck up in the air as it was and couldn’t help but stare at it. Asshams Al Islam was more voluptuous.
Assalāt Al Fajir was fascinated by it.
She had an urge to rub her hand across it, but was much too shy for that.
She still felt uncomfortable speaking sexy words and describing sexual things.
Soon, Asshams Al Islam rose back up with a plate of spaghetthe.
“Want any?” Asshams Al Islam asked her sister holding the bowl up.
Assalāt Al Fajir shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head no.
Asshams Al Islam placed the bowl in the microwave and began heating it up.
Asshams Al Islam was feeling a weird vibe from her sister but wasn’t sure why.
“You ok sis…you seem a bit distant the past few minutes.” Asshams Al Islam asked her sister and lay her hand on Assalāt Al Fajir shoulder.
Assalāt Al Fajir jumped slightly at the contact, causing Asshams Al Islam to stare at her.
“I’m just thinking is all, mind is wondering.” Assalāt Al Fajir said as she looked at her sister and tried to smile.
Assalāt Al Fajir shook her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān head, and sat down with her sister, but only having soda.
Asshams Al Islam quickly ate and neither of them spoke.
After they finished up and cleaned up, they went looking for their parents.
After a quick look in their bedroom, family room and the spare bedroom, they looked at each other.
“Let’s check…maybe they went someplace in one of the cars.” Asshams Al Islam said as she went to the living room window and looked out.
She saw that Ammī’s car was missing from her spot and assumed that they had gone somewhere.
“Ammī’s car is gone…I bet they went somewhere, but it’s weird they didn’t tell us or anything.” Asshams Al Islam said, wondering where they both went too.
“I don’t know but I guess we have the house to ourselves then” Assalāt Al Fajir said looking at her sister.
“Hey I got an idea, let’s go check out Durgesh’s computer, you said Durgesh was looking at porn last night…he probably has some on his computer. You feel like checking?” Asshams Al Islam gave Assalāt Al Fajir a big smile.
Assalāt Al Fajir frowned at her sister, now a bit worried…they didn’t know how long their parents would be.
“Come on, Assalāt Al Fajir…after what we were talking about doing a little while ago, you’re scared now! Come on…it’ll be fun, you might learn something.” Asshams Al Islam said giggling slightly as she started toward the kitchen…and the study.
Assalāt Al Fajir hesitated for a few seconds, then followed her sister.
Assalāt Al Fajir was about fifteen feet behind when Asshams Al Islam reached the study door and reached down for the knob.
Asshams Al Islam started to turn the handle and looked back to her sister finally come where she could see her, when she opened the door.
Asshams Al Islam smiled at Assalāt Al Fajir and started to walk in the study, when she turned forward…and saw Durgesh sitting at the computer chair.
Asshams Al Islam saw me quickly whip my head about and look in her direction.
The eyes of us both went wide.
I was surprised because Al Jihad Al Islam’s immensely beautiful young sophisticated eldest Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter had opened the door.
Asshams Al Islam was surprised because I had my pants down around my ankles and had my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in Al Zāhidah Al Durrānī’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot .
Al Zāhidah Al Durrānī was Al Jihad Al Islam’s one of tremendously beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān friends that never appeared more than thirty five, yet they couldn’t be less than fifty ever.
Their own eldest daughters were around twenty-eight or thirty.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had been the Director of Security through all Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven Movements.
It would certainly have been a backbreaking job if I were not fucking her constantly.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan enjoyed my Uncut Hindu Lund continuously constantly into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot nonstop.
She never knew she needed sex that much with me.
Today almost entire Creations were against Pseudo Musalmīn terrorism.
They were killing the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists everywhere openly attacking them.
Since Narendr Modi had become the Prime Minister of India, not even a single Pseudo Musalmān terrorist had succeeded in entering India.
Everyone of them was either killed on the spot when trying to enter, or worse.
S/he was arrested alive.
“Sit down, Saifunnisā.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said, “Let’s keep this on a friendly basis if we can.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam hooked both her thumbs in her sash and remained standing.
“Friendly? With a traitor?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had anticipated it.
She pushed her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my nude lap, swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and smiled patronizing Saifunnisā Al Islam.
“With an accused traitor.” She corrected her, “You are a Councilwoman. I’m sure you understand the wide difference between a traitor and an accused traitor. Don’t you?”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam watched Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan cunningly.
“Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, you know very well that you haven’t come to the point where accusation, even by the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, herself, is the equivalent of conviction. I trust you never do. Your job is to clear me if you can. You would do so now while no harm is done, except to my pride, rather than be forced to make it all a matter of a public trial. You hope I’m with you in this.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan understood the situation perfectly she was dealing with.
Saifunnisā Al Islam wasn’t an ordinary Councilwoman of the House of the People of Modern Democratic Årabia.
She was a learned young woman.
It was not easy to deal with Saifunnisā Al Islam.
Yet, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself wasn’t an ordinary young woman.
She wasn’t Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, because she was the elder sister of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had earned this prestigious post through her own hard work and achievements.
“Let’s not bother with ingratiation. You asked for it.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said politely, yet authoritatively, “You had witnessed what happened even to Imām Muħammad Ħasan when he challenged the authority of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Yet you did the same. Definitely you never expected you could get away with it.”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled ironically.
“I thought we are in a democratic system.”
“Sure,” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself said ironically too, “But you are against it. You want to fail our democracy.”
“That’s the accusation, I think.” Saifunnisā Al Islam again ridiculed Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“You still think you can face the charges of treason against you?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously.
“I want to expose you all. No democracy is being practiced here. If it were democracy here really, you were not establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah here.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled at Saifunnisā Al Islam ridiculing her.
“I hope you are intelligent enough to understand neither you have majority here, nor your supporters. The majority of Modern Democratic Årabia is not with you.”
“That’s what you think,”
“That’s what I know.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled triumphantly confidently, “Even your Love Jihad has failed everywhere miserably. Each and every attempt of it is immediately detected everywhere before even a single success in it. The Pseudo Musalmīn culprits are losing their manhood forever as soon as they even imagine even to deceive the innocent non-Muslim girls. It’s not old times now. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp, Sanā Kr’tyug. The sooner you understand the sooner you can save the manhood of the remaining Pseudo Musalmīn.”
“We refuse to let Yogi Āditýnāth be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said determinedly.
“Who are you to decide who will be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh? Are you a citizen of India?” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at Saifunnisā Al Islam contemptuously.*
Yogi Bhāskarnāth was unable to understand how he could get rid of the ever-crazy Mujāhidāt that were having sex with him constantly on this or that pretext.
They just made him lie on his back undressed and straddled him one by one, fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth despite his every effort to avoid it.
“We would never let you complete your Celibacy Practice, your so called Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Al Jihad fil Islam said fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth aggressively, “We don’t want another Yogi Āditýnāth.”
Yogi Bhāskarnāth could not do anything, except to lie there on his back and let them fuck him.
He understood actually, their Pseudo Musalmīn terrorist husbands had either lost their manhood completely, or losing their interest in sexual intercourse itself.
“Young ladies, you never understood our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Yogi Bhāskarnāth said, “You don’t want to let us become another Yogi Āditýnāth. But our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, doesn’t require other persons cooperation too. Even if you keep fucking us endlessly, our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, would never be discontinued. We aren’t having sex with you. You are having sex with us. We aren’t responsible for what you are doing with us. Our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, is discontinued only when we ourselves have sex with you.”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“We aren’t fighting for democracy in Uttar Pradesh, India. We are fighting for Islam.”
“And Islam is against democracy?”
“Democracy isn’t Islam.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said curtly.
“On the contrary, Islam revived democracy in then Årab.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. “Al Qur’an Al Karīm never claimed Islam was a new religion. It was the same religion Hindus call Hinduism, Hindutv, adjusted properly to suit then Årab environment.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously, “You love Hindu Lund entirely unashamed of you. That’s why you are resorting to these un-Islamic philosophies.”
“And you don’t love Hindu Lund?”
“Never. I hate Hindu Lund instead, on the quite contrary.”
“And that’s why you yourself went to Durgesh and fucked him.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan laughed sarcastically.
“That’s not the same thing you do.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said scornfully, “We need money for our Al Jihad fil Islam. Durgesh is the utmost richest multi zillionaire of our times. He is a moron to think he can change us from an Islamist into a so-called humanist. We challenge him to do it with us. The fact is Durgesh isn’t changing us. Instead, the more Durgesh fuck us Mujāhidāt the more he is converted to Islam.”
“And that’s why you so called Mujāhidāt keep fucking Durgesh?”
“Why shouldn’t we?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled.
“I never said you shouldn’t. I said what you are doing is actually itself establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Have you ever realized it?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled cunningly.
“Keep living in fools’ paradise as much as you please, Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia. We aren’t doing any such thing. Nevertheless, if you really think we are too establishing your dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, why the hell you call me a traitor? Are we not doing the same thing you are doing either knowingly or unknowingly?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at me complaining.
“Durgesh, you’ve fucked these so called Mujāhidāt too much. They are capable to argue rationally too.”
I smiled cunningly.
“Well, you can’t blame me, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan, they are too beautiful to resist. Aren’t they?”
“Damn you, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam and I both laughed.
I looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan gravely.
“Don’t blame me for it ever, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan. I’d never stop it. Whatsoever the reason a woman has, or says to have, for having sex with me, the fact that she is having sex with me makes me her husband according to my morals.”
“We Hindus believe in Vivāhāshŧakam and Ashŧmaithunam. I think it’s more humane to believe in these two principles. If you don’t agree with me, try to convince me why isn’t it so.”*
Shankar Mahāpralayankar rose from the blackjack table, smiled all round, threw the pretty croupier a large tip, and pocketed twenty gold five hundred dollar chips.
Ten thousand dollars.
Not bad for a fast half hour’s work while Fātimah Al Wahāb was sucking his Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh never appreciated Shankar Mahāpralayankar for humiliating Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists even.
Let him not.
The humiliation of Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists pleased Shankar Mahāpralayankar always.
Fātimah Al Wahāb was still sucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund shamefully.
She couldn’t do anything.
Numerous females, houseladies of members of al-Qaeda, were forced to suck Uncut Hindu Lund publicly, not of Shankar Mahāpralayankar only, but other Hindus’ as well.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and his followers were challenging not only Ayman al Zawahiri , his entire al-Qaeda instead.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar surveyed the crowded Las Vegas casino.
His dark eyes flicked back and forth amongst the assembled company.
The beautiful Musalmān houseladies in floral dresses exhibited surprising strength as their beautiful arms pulled firmly on the slot machines.
Florid faced couples, Hindu male Musalmān female strictly, none else, filled with excitement, picked up a fast eighty or ninety dollars at the roulette tables.
Strolling beautiful Musalmān houseladies of the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, blank eyes alert for the big spender Hindus.
The big spender Hindus themselves, in polyester leisure suits, screeched away in Middle American accents at the crap tables.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
Las Vegas always amused him.
They always cooperated whenever Shankar Mahāpralayankar wanted to humiliate Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists publicly in this way.
The hustle and the bustle.
The win and the loss.
The total fantasy of it all.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar loved to fuck Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists right from the beginning.
As soon as he was capable of having sex, he enjoyed it with them too much.
“Never!” Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled cunningly even then.
“Stop it, I say,”
“You know why.”
“I don’t,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar said notoriously, smiling.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no. I mean it, No!”
“Why not, you like it you say.”
“I don’t, I don’t. Oh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Ooooooh!”
It was always the same story.
No, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t do it, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t touch me there, Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Yet, the story always had a happy ending.
As soon as Shankar Mahāpralayankar found the magic button, the Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists stopped protesting.
The beautiful nude Musalmān legs opened in invitation and they hardly noticed when Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s immensely experienced fie upstanding Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated their Musalmān Choots
Shankar Mahāpralayankar, the Muslimātchod Hindu, was his nickname.
It was true that after Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the second ever successful young Hindu man that had screwed more Musalmān ass than anyone else, including Musalmīn even.
Even the Musalmīn were jealous of Durgesh and Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled when the Pseudo Musalmīn praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was the first Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked in his ass when he praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
“Sālé, praising your Hindu father? Or your Hindu Jījū? Durgesh is fucking both your Ammīs and sisters now.”
Al Åbd Al Wahāb cried helplessly.
“Because you forced me to request Durgesh to fuck them. Otherwise, you and your ever communal Hindus had molested them. Neither I had another option, nor did my Musalmān houseladies.”
“How do you feel when you lick the optimum fucked Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of your beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Al Åbd Al Wahāb?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar pushed his Uncut Hindu Lund again entirely into the ever feminine Musalmān ass of Al Åbd Al Wahāb.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was feeling himself immensely humiliated.
Yet he couldn’t do anything.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was more powerful and he had every evidence against him.
If the police had those evidences, Al Åbd Al Wahāb was certainly hanged till his death.
He never wanted to die.
What’s wrong even if Durgesh is fucking his entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies?
Wasn’t that they themselves wanted to?
Abbū, Al Qahar Arraħīm Al Wahāb, was a devoted Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān.
Yet, what happened with him?
Osama bin Laden was killed but Abbū was captured by Shankar Mahāpralayankar, himself.
Osama bin Laden was born on 10 March 1957.
Abbū was entire ten years older than Osama bin Laden.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar deliberately captured Abbū alive and blackmailed his family and followers to immense degradation and humiliations.
It was still continued.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no!”
“Aw, c’mon, Al Qamar Annisā’. Let me just put it there, just next to you. I won’t put it in, I promise I won’t!”
“But Shankar Mahāpralayankar!”
“There. I told you. Doesn’t that feel good?”
“Mmmm, I guess. But don’t move, promise you won’t move.”
“’Course not. I just want to be next to you, that’s all.” Gently Shankar Mahāpralayankar eased his Hindu prick inside her Musalmān Cunt.
“What are you doing?” Al Qamar Annisā’ squealed.
“Just getting comfortable,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar replied, easing his hand down between her legs, feeing for the magic button.
Al Qamar Annisā’ gave a little sigh.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar had found it.
“Feel nice?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar inquired solicitously.
“Oh, yes, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Oh, yes.”
Keeping his fingers on target, Shankar Mahāpralayankar started to screw Al Qamar Annisā’ properly.*
Al Qamar Annisā’ didn’t object.
Instead, she smiled cunningly.
She wasn’t stupid enough not to know what Shankar Mahāpralayankar was doing.
After all Al Qamar Annisā’ was a mujāhidah of al-Qaeda.
She understood more than even the other members of al-Qaeda suspected.
She knew it wasn’t any Al Jihad fil Islam at all.
It was an outright Årab Imperialism.
If it was really an Al Jihad fil Islam, why the Islamic State of Al Baghdadi is trying to defeat al-Qaeda in Pseudo Islamic terrorism?
Right from the moment Ħazrat Muåāwiyah started to send strategic news of Al Jihad fil Islam to the Kħalīfah, Caliph in power those days, the downfall of Islam and the rise of Pseudo Islam had started.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported anything wrong.
He reported actually what Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
Yet, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported in detail what positive Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
He reported in quite detail what wrong Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd ever did.
It was never a wrong reporting.
Yet, it was never an entirely unbiased reporting too.
It was a very clever, very shrewd strategic reporting that ultimately resulted in the removal of Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar knew how to please a woman that was so devoted to her cause.
He had been taught by Durgesh himself how to find the magic button.
It was a lesson Shankar Mahāpralayankar was forever grateful for.
It gave him an edge over the other Hindus.
Right from the beginning of the era when Ħazrat Muåāwiyah was coming into power, it was a game of cats, dogs and rats, whether strategic or entirely unashamed open.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah himself never promoted the persons who were involved in kidnapping and selling of beautiful Musalmān houseladies to Hindus.
The Hindus were living in India that was called Golden Bird then.*
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of himself for being at least second Hindu the beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists were crazy of.
Durgesh was the first, no doubt.
Nevertheless, his morals were somewhat different from Durgesh.
Even numerous of his Hindu friends and followers thought all there was to screwing beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists was a fast shove.
After Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar also knew it was just as important to make them like it, want it, and even beg for it.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of Al Qamar Annisā’ that she laughed when her family disowned her.
“I sympathize with my family persons.” Al Qamar Annisā’ smiled now fucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar herself.
“As I do?” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled proudly with utmost conference in herself.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed.
“The reasons are different, Al Sidrah Al Aħmad.”
“I know.” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled bravely, “You too are against my life style. Nevertheless, I’m neither discouraged nor even a bit ashamed of it.”
Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl was fucking Al Sidrah Al Aħmad now.
Despite the fact that Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl never appreciated the life style Al Sidrah Al Aħmad had adopted he believed in the freedom for everyone, including Al Sidrah Al Aħmad too, of course.
He had read the Renouncement of Al Sidrah Al Aħmad by her family ultimately.
Unlike Al Qamar Annisā’ Al Sidrah Al Aħmad’s family didn’t disown her immediately.
Her family gave her even more than fifty years to return to the basic moral values of Islam.
Yet Al Sidrah Al Aħmad never cared for it.
She continued to live her ever-irresponsible life towards her family reputation.
Al Sidrah Al Aħmad continued to fuck every Hindu male she came in contact even if he was a peon, driver, servant, whatsoever the hell that Hindu male was.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I looked at Imāmzādi Ħumayrah Qāzī.
“I know she is right. The humankind dreams, enjoys to dream and never wants to come out of dreams. But it doesn’t mean someone should take its advantage. Neither it’s a tragedy at all.”
“I see,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “so, my ever over moral Hindu husband is angry because one of his infinite Musalmān wives is taking advantage of some eternal fact. If you are right, why isn’t it a tragedy?”
“Because originally every eternal law in the system is there for ‘Janébhyah’, for the people. You are taking advantage of it for yourself and your Young lady Musalmān Brigade.”
“You are quite mistaken, Param Purush.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly, “Neither my Young lady Musalmān Brigade nor myself do maintain our Sharīr Yantrs, our Body Machines only for our own satisfaction. We do affirmations and transmissions using them. That’s how we converted Saåūdī Årabia into Modern Democratic Årabia and ended anti Hindu rule from India forever. If it isn’t ‘Janébhyah’, for the people, why the hell did you yourself participate in it, and still do?”*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār ostentatiously, flashily, consulted her wristwatch as she entered my office.
“Thought you would never get here, Durgesh.” she said, “Been waiting twenty minutes. Damn it. I don’t like waiting for anyone, not for my de facto husband especially.”
“So it seems,” I said dryly.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
“Well, I’m not one of your sex therapy clients, I mean. I’m one of your commandos actually that assist you in fighting against ever insane pseudo Muslim terrorism.”
“You wanted to tell me some things about Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.” I reminded her coldly.
“Your Musalmān stepson isn’t only a terrorist, he is a bigamous criminal as well. He was already married to four beautiful Musalmān wives, when he married me.”
“Oh, come on, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. You are not actually his wife. You are a commando actually to get evidences against Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
“But he already has four wives. How the hell under Muslim Personal Law could he marry me? Isn’t his marriage with me void ab initio?”
“Is your marriage with him important?”
“I’m running his business as his wife. If I’m not his wife legally, I can’t inherit his business as well. Isn’t it important?”
“This media empire I control is not mine any more, if my marriage with him is void ab initio.”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī can never take the possession of his media empire now, don’t worry.”
“There are complications now.”
“Okay, go ahead. Tell me everything.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār said gravely.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī married a girl named Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb ten years ago. She was a mighty sweet girl then.”
I looked at Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
She hated terrorism, crimes and the anti-human activities of Pseudo Musalmīn right ab initio.
The Pseudo Musalmīn charged Al Jihad Al Vaqār that she was never loyal to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār pretended to love him because she wanted to acquire the hold on the media empire Al Nādir Al Ghāzī owned.
Now she was the owner because I was with her, not because she had any talent herself.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed at the charges.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was completely hypnotized then with Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb’s extraordinary magical Musalmān beauty. Hypnotism is the actually exactly right word for it, Durgesh. Don’t make any mistake about that. As it turned out, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb herself hated terrorism and crimes as much as I do. Besides, she was a cold, clever, scheming—well, even I hate to use the word that comes in my mind in front of you.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār looked at me gravely.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār, love brings out the best in people. That’s why the utmost ancient book on humanity, Ved, has based the system of life, it proposes, on love. That’s why it wants to spread love everywhere through its Family Movement. When love leaves, it frequently happens the best is gone. I would never blame Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. She did what she did because she loved humanity more than she loved my ever scheming stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī hates you very much.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “He says you deliberately pick up the horniest Musalmān houseladies who are unsatisfied with their ever righteous Musalmān husbands. You fulfill their slutty wishes and—”
“I know. Most of the Pseudo Musalmīn claim it’s the fact. And that’s why they keep losing their ever needy Musalmān womankind to me or other capable Hindus. They blame us Hindus for it. If they had ever tried to find out the fault with in themselves, they would have stopped the wooing of Musalmān Beauties me or other capable Hindus already much before.”
“The Pseudo Musalmīn don’t want to believe anyone else that’s not himself a Pseudo Musalmān.”
“And that’s why the Pseudo Musalmīn are the losers ever.” I smiled curtly.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled forlornly.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī says Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is a holy terror.”
“In what way?” I asked.
“In every way,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “She is—well, she’s a wildcat. You know, that old saying about ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’.”
“Sure, even Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī created almost everlasting Brāhm Kalp that has mostly Brāhmañ Muslimāt Bachhalyā Brahmkanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī couples.”
“Nothing, how long has Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb separated from Al Nādir Al Ghāzī?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Not exactly. It wasn’t as serious a matter then, as it is now.”
“I don’t think the separation had so much to do with it.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “It was when Al Nādir Al Ghāzī married me. Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb couldn’t bear it. She became absolutely insane with rage.”
I watched Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
She was a beautiful Musalmān redhead, with the bluest of blue smart Musalmān eyes.
I could look right down in the depths.
The fair delicate Musalmān skin that goes with a redhead of that type.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was beautiful.
She was a gem.
Not only physically, but morally as well.
It wasn’t any miracle however.
Pseudo Islam never succeeded in Musalmān womankind to the extent it succeeded in Musalmān mankind.
Yazīd Malåūn needed warriors more than the womankind.
His movement wasn’t a moral movement as the original Islam was.
It was actually now a military movement to spread his Imperialism.
It used Islam, it didn’t follow Islam actually.
On the contrary, the Islam had to follow Yazīd Malåūn and his bandits.
I looked into her beautiful eyes.
“Do you have a woman in your employ about twenty eight or twenty nine, with a good figure, trim, slim waisted, long legged, high breasted, blonde hair, gray eyes…”
“In my employ?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled ironically, “Allah, Durgesh, you make her sound like a Hollywood movie actress.”
“She’s good looking,” I admitted.
“Don’t know anyone,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār shook her head.
“Know anyone by the name of Al Qāsim?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār thought.
“Yes,” she said, “I had a business deal at one time with a man by the name of Al Qāsim, some sort of a mining deal. I can’t remember much of it. As a successful businesswoman now, I have a lot of things on my mind. The way you talk about her, a man could have helped you more in the matter. A woman isn’t interested in a woman in the way a man is interested in her. However, I wanted to talk to you about my ex co wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār said,
“Well, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī separated. Now, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī says there is something strange about that separation. Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī hadn’t been getting along too well.”
“Because they were never serious about getting along too well.” I smiled.
“Pseudo Islam, Pseudo Christianity, Pseudo Judaism, every religion, every ideology has its pseudo version now.”
“What do you want to say?”
“Actually, every person is not living his/her natural scientific life, neither s/he wants to.”
“I’m unable to follow you.”
“The scientific reason behind these separations and divorces is that man is actually a polygamist animal.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed.
“Glad to hear it from you, a man himself. The womankind is monogamous in this matter.”
“That’s right. Actually, it needs five elements to run a family successfully.”
“Indeed?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled mockingly, “And what the hell are those bloody five elements?”
“The first one is a suitable system of life based on cold and hard eternal scientific facts, Sirātalmustaqīm, Panthā R’tasý.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed.
“Are you explaining me Al Qur’an Al Karīm? Are you a Maulānā? A muballigh-e-Islam? Sirātalmustaqīm? Allah, I can’t believe it. A Hindu is preaching Islam to a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān young woman.”*
“I didn’t find any Āyat in Al Qur’an Al Karīm that prohibits an Ahal-e-Al Kitāb to explain the Tafsīlal Kitābi. The problem with you so called Musalmīn is that you neither know nor have the courage enough to believe that we Hindus are actually the Everfirst Musalmīn. And therefore we Hindus have every right to read, study, peruse Al Qur’an Al Karīm and preach it according to Al Kitāb. Al Qur’an Al Karīm says we get double ujr for it, double reward for it, than you Musalmīn get. Aqāmat-e-Dīn, Aqāmat-e-Ħukūmat-e-Ilāhī, is not you so called Musalmīn’s exclusive territory. ”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār gritted her teeth.
It was no use to debate with Durgesh on it.
She knew very well that she couldn’t prove me wrong.
Countless Musalmīn didn’t agree with me.
Yet, none of them could prove me wrong according to Al Qur’an Al Karīm and Aħādīs-e-muqaddasāt.
The worst thing was they couldn’t prove wrong even Dr. Ålī Sina and his Co Authors.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār changed the subject.
It was a better course to follow for everyone that couldn’t win a debate.
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī hadn’t been getting along too well and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had been turning to other interests. He was staying at the club a lot, playing a little poker, going out with his friends. But Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was not sitting home, pining her life away. They had just reached the point where they’d started to grow apart.”
“Neither of them wanted to save the marriage.” I commented.
“That’s right. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had found out that Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was smarter than he himself was. He wasn’t agree to play the second fiddle. I think even Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb had also found out about Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s Pseudo Musalmān terrorist, criminal and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmān activities. She played smart not to fight on it with Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
I digested the information.
Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was really smart.
“They both had realized their marriage was a great mistake. They were not made for each other.”
“That’s the problem with marrying in a community.”
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb would perhaps never married Al Nādir Al Ghāzī if Al Nādir Al Ghāzī wasn’t a Musalmān and Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb’s parents never insisted to marry their daughter with a Musalmān only.”
“Wasn’t it natural?”
I looked at her gravely.
“Sure, but where the parents of Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb failed was to believe that everything that shines is bound to be gold.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched me appreciatively.
“Countless Musalmīn marry their daughters, their sisters today with ostensible Musalmīn without confirming whether he is really a Musalmān or not. They forget Allah has warned them, ‘Wa lā tunkiħū almusharikīn ħattā yu’minū’. Ħattā yu’minū is the important part here that prohibits a Musalmān to marry his/her daughter/sister with an ostensible Musalmān. It requires the confirmation of the Īmān of the bridegroom as Ved orders ‘Imām nārīm sukr’té dadhāt’.”
“Allah, are you again preaching me Islam, Maulānā Durgesh?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār shouted at me angrily.*
“You Musalmīn are furious that someone that isn’t a Muslim reminds you what Islam really is. It exposes you ostensible Musalmīn. Doesn’t it?”
“Try to be a true Musalmān sometimes, if not always.”
She watched me angrily.
“Al Qur’an Al Karīm says, ‘Lā ikrāh fiddīni’ ‘No compulsion in religion’ too. Perhaps in your enthusiasm to preach me Islam, you are forgetting it.”
“Certainly not. You are still free to have your own opinion whatsoever you want to. Dr. Ålī Sina and his Co Authors have influenced a large number of you Musalmīn too, I understand.”
She deliberately ignored my remark.
It was she that needed me now, not I that needed Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
“Anyway,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār tried once again to resume the subject, “When the separation came, neither Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb nor Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had any hard feelings for each other. They both were so fed up of each other they both wanted to get rid of another one. No tears shed. No complaints even. It was just a plain business matter. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī gave Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb a mine in New Mexico that looked pretty good. Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb wanted to have Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s Media Empire that I’m running now. Nevertheless, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī made her to compromise on the mine.”
“Any formal property settlement drawn up?” I asked.
“That’s where Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb defeated Al Nādir Al Ghāzī cleverly successfully. He made a blunder there. He didn’t have it formal, but Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb had always been pretty square that way.”
“I see,” I smiled sarcastically.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār ignored my reaction.
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī both talked things over. He gave her this mine in New Mexico and they were going to see how it turned out.”
I didn’t say anything.
I only listened to her without making any comment whatsoever.
“If it turned out all right, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was going to take that as a complete property settlement. If it didn’t turn out so good, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī told her they’d make some sort of an adjustment.”
“It means Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was more eager to get rid of her than Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was. He never hid his such a blunt eagerness to get rid of her. Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb noticed it and carefully took every advantage she could.”
“I agree with you.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “Most of the filthy rich men never care for such matters gravely even. They take it extremely carelessly. They never marry gravely actually. They purchase a beautiful plaything for them, instead of having a wife actually. They are always ready to pay for it. That’s what they think they have money for. Even when you fuck their beautiful wives they actually laugh at you that you are a damn fool mostly interested in the used Beauties.”
I smiled triumphantly.
“Their point of view and mine towards life is entirely different, Al Jihad Al Vaqār.”
“They pay money for everything, I pay love for everything.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was startled.
“You can see yourself who the real damn fool is. I get love for love, sincerity, honesty, loyalty and the immense indebtedness from the Beauties they get rid of, thus. I keep my money too with me. They never get anything true from their wives even when they are their wives and they lose their money too. Moreover, I never see them as used Beauties. I see them as my fellow human beings that need something I can do for them. I never lose anything in doing that something for them. Instead, I myself enjoy them too much if they enjoy me. It’s the principle that you do everything for me that you can, and in return, I would do everything for you that I can. What the hell have I to lose in this lifestyle?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was watching me dumbfounded.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd smirked, chuckling to herself as she felt Al Nādir Al Sultān’s thirty years old penis twitch and spurt semen inside her.
Her hands were resting on his large, round, belly as she watched him moan and convulse below her.
Reaching upward, he cupped her fabulous triple D sized, teardrop-shaped breasts.
He had given her a Mercedes few months ago for her twenty eighth birthday.
“Good?” She asked, raising an eyebrow while rubbing her hands on his belly.
“Oh yes. Very good.” Al Nādir Al Sultān groaned, releasing her marvelous ever erect Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts, propping himself up on his elbows.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd smiled, leaning forward, hovering her marvelous ever erect Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts in front of his open mouth.
Al Nādir Al Sultān flicked his tongue across a nipple, and then placed several kisses across the bulbous breast meat.
She swayed her shoulders back and forth, playfully dragging her marvelous ever erect Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān breasts across his black, ardent Musalmān beard.
She giggled to herself at the tickling sensation before sliding off Al Nādir Al Sultān and resting next to him on the bed.
“Sorry I didn’t last that long, Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd.” Al Nādir Al Sultān apologized.
“Aww, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal, You never could. I never expected you to last long. Moreover, you always said only Hindus practice lasting long. They think it their Eishān’s worship.” She said, throwing her arm around his chest, sighing contently as she felt semen ooze out of her.
She loved that feeling.
She loved having sex with him.
While not as energetic as others, he was always funny, and made her feel comfortable.
They had been sleeping together occasionally for about 6 months – shortly after she took care of Al Nādir Al Sultān during a quick visit to the hospital where she was employed as a Lady Doctor.
She couldn’t resist his charm.
He was as good as any man she’s had known, but the she didn’t care except anything that he too was a Muslim.
“Well I do worry about it. I guess I should be glad the thing works, but still, a lovely woman like you should be getting yours during sex.”
“I’m telling you, it’s ok. I had a nice orgasm earlier when you went down on me. It’s that beard!” Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd teased, running her fingers through it.
“Well, alright, I guess I don’t feel as bad then.”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd smiled, continuing to run her fingers through his beard,
“So have you and Rashīdah set a date yet for the wedding?” She asked, referring to Al Nādir Al Sultān’s 62 year old fiancé, who lived in Baghdad, Iraq.
She was a zillionaire and offered thirty years old, Al Nādir Al Sultān, a billion dollars if he married her despite her sixty two years age.
“Not yet, but It’ll be this year sometime. We need to figure out if we’re having it in Iraq or here in Atlanta. I suspect it’ll be Iraq since most of her family is there. She’ll then move in here with me. So sadly, you have to divorce me!”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd nodded,
“Well that’s certainly understandable. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble. She’d divorce you and take all your money!”
“Oh no, we can’t let that happen,” Al Nādir Al Sultān replied, reaching down to spank Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd a couple times. “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh, want to give me a nice chunk of it?” Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd teased.
“Yes, I do actually.” Al Nādir Al Sultān answered without hesitation.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd rose on her elbow, looking into Al Nādir Al Sultān’s eyes,
“Really? You’re serious?”
“Yes, I am, on one condition. Rashīdah has already set most of it aside to donate to charities, and a nice amount for me, even if she doesn’t pass away in near future.” Al Nādir Al Sultān explained.
“How could you make her so crazy for you?”
“She needs a manager more than a husband, I think. Yet, I suspect she is a cougar actually.”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd smiled cunningly.
“And she wants my husband?”
“You’d get three hundred dollars to divorce me, with certain conditions however.”
“I see. So what’s the condition, what are you talking about?”
“Well, I figured Rashīdah would have a little fun with people. She’d like to see what they are willing to do for several million dollars.”
“Hmm, alright. So where do I fit in with this?”
“As you know Rashīdah is a pervert. She loves sex, and every kind of sex. I love having sex with you, Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd, so Rashīdah figured why not challenge you in a sexual way?” Al Nādir Al Sultān asked.
“Well, this sounds like fun already! What did you have in mind?”
“You love Durgesh, Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd? Yet you could never dare to have sex with Durgesh, only because you are a Muslim and Durgesh is a Hindu. Would you do anything for him?”
“Well, yes of course, but what are you talking about?” Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd asked, her eyebrows narrowing, not entirely sure what Al Nādir Al Sultān was hinting at.
“If Rashīdah offered you enough money so you would live comfortably for the rest of your life, on the condition you accept and successfully passed the challenge. Would you do it?”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd paused, the concerned look on her face not leaving.
She thought about all different scenarios in her mind.
They had done that.
Did Al Nādir Al Sultān want some sort of threeway with her and someone?
She didn’t see how a threeway would be worth millions of dollars.
Suddenly her eyes shot open.
Thoughts of urine, feces, animals, entered her mind.
Certainly Al Nādir Al Sultān would never challenge her to do that.
But she wasn’t sure, maybe he would.
She thought about her sixty five year old father in law, Durgesh, and how hard she worked as a Lady Doctor to survive – many long hours, many exhausting shifts, in order to save up for herself.
A million dollars, or even half that, would be a huge relief for her.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd sat up in Al Nādir Al Sultān’s bed and continued thinking.
She asked herself if she would do nasty things involving bodily waste for millions of dollars.
She tried to figure out why Al Nādir Al Sultān would want her to do those sorts of things.
She then thought of her father in law, Durgesh, again.
She could get a new, nicer house, a new car for her.
“Yes! I would drink urine for sure I guess. It’s a sterile fluid anyway. Shit on the other hand…ugh…I could give myself an injection of antibiotics after I eat it, or just go the emergency room afterward to get checked out. This is so gross…” She thought to herself, before turning around to face Al Nādir Al Sultān.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd sighed,
“Yes, I would do it. Whatever sexual challenge you give me, I would do it. If you were to give me enough money to support me, yes I would do it.” She flinched as she imaged someone taking a shit on her, and then shuddered to shake the thought from her head.
“Good. Because I want you to make love to Durgesh, the utmost infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.” Al Nādir Al Sultān replied. “The Musalmīn are ever jealous of Durgesh. Rashīdah would love you to fuck him too. Only your having sex with Durgesh would confirm Rashīdah that you would never return in my life with Rashīdah.”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd paused, blinking a few times.
“Who? My father in law, Durgesh?” She asked, as relief started to fill her thoughts and her heart rate settled.
“Yes, Durgesh. I will give you, say, three hundred million dollars if you make love to Durgesh for Rashīdah. I would set up a camera in your bedroom and the video feed would go directly to me and only me.”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd closed her eyes and exhaled deeply.
She opened them and stared at Al Nādir Al Sultān.
A weak smile came across her face.
“I thought you were going to ask me to eat shit or something.”
“Ha! Oh goodness no, my dear! Never! I’m a pervert but not that perverted. Not that dirty animal ever.” Al Nādir Al Sultān laughed.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd chuckled softly.
“Why my father in law, Durgesh? Why would you want me to do that?”
Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.
Yet, there could be other reasons as well and more. Rashīdah is the shrewdest woman I have ever seen.”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd sat in silence, slowly turning around, facing away from Al Nādir Al Sultān to look out his bedroom window,
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“I’d say that three hundred million is more than enough to support you for the rest of your life, granted you are responsible with it,” Al Nādir Al Sultān paused, nudging her ribs, causing her to jump out of her trance. “You can live comfortably, and not blow it on houses, cars, boats, or whatever. Durgesh himself is the ever richest man. A Multi Zillionaire and not live off that money. If you do all these things I’m sure you’ll have some left to pass on to your children from Durgesh one day.”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd slowly nodded in agreement.
“So you’d install a camera in my room?”
“Yes. One that you can turn on when you see fit. The video feed would go directly to my personal laptop, sort of like a webcam, but in your bedroom.” Al Nādir Al Sultān explained.
“Am I the only one you are giving these challenges to?”
“Oh I don’t know dear,” Al Nādir Al Sultān said, running his fingers up and down her back. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something for someone else, should I get bored.”
“I don’t know, he’s – “Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd trailed off.
Her father in law, Durgesh, was exactly a ladies’ man.
Even then, we never really talked about sex.
“You can take as long as you need, there’s no deadline for this. I’ll pay for whatever new clothes you want, or makeovers, or vacations you want to take Durgesh on – whatever you think will help you and Durgesh be able to do this.”
“What if he doesn’t want to do this?” Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd asked.
“Well, it takes two to tango, dear.”
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd smirked, looking down to her lap, sighing deeply. She closed her eyes, thinking more about the money, the request, and her father in law, Durgesh.
“A penis is a penis, even if it’s an Uncut Hindu Penis.” she told herself in her head, trying to rationalize this challenge. “Moreover, the entire Musalmān Beauties are dying nowadays to fuck Durgesh. She wouldn’t be alone.
“If you want to think about it, you can. Let me know what you decide, or don’t. Your silence would be the answer. If I install a camera, and months, or years pass and if doesn’t happen, that’s fine too. As I said there’s no deadline. If my surveillance software captures video footage of you and Durgesh having sex, then you get the money. Also, rest assured, I would not upload the video to the internet. I’m not even sure how to do that to be honest!” The young man joked.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd shook her head and climbed in the covers to lie on her side, still facing away from Al Nādir Al Sultān.
She blankly stared out of his bedroom window.
She thought about me and wondered what I was up to at the sleepover at my friend’s house.
Probably fucking his Musalmān friend’s beautiful Musalmān houseladies all night.
Images of my thin frame, kicking my Uncut Hindu Penis in the backyard into her beautiful Musalmān girlfriends’ ever enticing Musalmān Cunts popped in her head causing a smile to come across her face.
I loved to fuck beautiful Musalmān houseladies.
“Well, do you have an answer?” Al Nādir Al Sultān whispered in her ear, and then smelled her shoulder length, fragrant blonde hair.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd didn’t answer; she closed her eyes instead, as Al Nādir Al Sultān ran his hand up and down her waist and hip.
“Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd?”
She sighed, rolling onto her back, looking up at Al Nādir Al Sultān’s face. He brought his hand to her cheek, caressing it gently. “Three hundred million dollars, Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd,” Al Nādir Al Sultān reiterated, running my thumb across her lips.
“Three hundred million dollars,” He said again.
Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd opened her mouth slightly and took Al Nādir Al Sultān’s thumb in, slowly rolling her tongue around it, then gently suckling on it.
“What do you say?” Al Nādir Al Sultān asked, taking his thumb from her mouth, moving his hand down to her breast, then rubbing his saliva coated thumb across Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd’s erect nipple, sending tingles down her spine.
“Yes.” Al Zāhidah Al Waħīd said flatly. “I’ll do it.”*
Ever said something you instantly regretted?
Sure you have, we all have but usually it’s something you are able to wriggle out of or explain away.
How about asking your father in law if he could cum into your mouth? Well, Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad did it and as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad knew she’d been a complete idiot.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad stammered out an apology as she looked at me open mouthed too shocked to speak anything more.
It was a Friday evening and we’d just about sat down to eat.
Al Muħammad was away for the weekend on a golf trip so it was just her and me.
She’d had this fantasy festering away in her head for a long time now.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad will be nineteen in a few months.
Anyway with Al Muħammad out of the way something must have clicked in her head and Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad just came out with it.
When She’d run out of reasons to excuse her behavior, anything but the truth that is, Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad picked up a coat and beat a hasty retreat, muttering as she left that She’d eat her diner later.
We live about five miles from the nearest shop which is in a village of maybe ten houses.
So her options were limited at that point.
Sure Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad could have biked somewhere but that would have meant going back into the house and at that point wild horses wouldn’t have dragged Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad back in there.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad took a walk, up to the ridge of a hill where she liked to sit and watch the sun set.
On really clear nights you can just see Cardigan bay which was only ten miles away.
Anyway that’s where Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad headed fully intending to spend the night.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad could not stay with her father in law tonight.
She didn’t know how I could react to her indecent proposal.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad must have been out of her mind certainly.
In her present state of mind she could even have raped Durgesh, her father in law.
He was ever over moral.
Yes, he loved Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad too, but NOT in the way Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad wanted him to love her.
Durgesh could never understand when she married Durgesh’s stepson, Al Muħammad, Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad was a damn fool.
She thought she had unique mind.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad did her PhD in her eighteen years only.
It wasn’t normal.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad was praised tremendously everywhere.
It was still continued.
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad opened a telegram:
‘In recognition of your extra ordinary work on Durgesh’s everbest Bahū Bégum wives for your PhD, the Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Foundation of Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasanābād, Modern Democratic Årabia, on behalf of the Bahū Bégum Wives Academy is pleased to inform that you have today been voted for this year’s Best Bahū Bégum Wife prize. Details follow. Heartiest Congratulations.’
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad sighed.
The problem in receiving this greatest honor was, Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad was only a Bahū Bégum, not a Bahū Bégum Wife.
Durgesh never recognized Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad’s extra ordinary Musalmān beauty with her extra ordinary female Musalmān brain too.
It wasn’t that Durgesh hasn’t any Bahū Bégum wife.
Durgesh has hundreds of beautiful Bahū Bégum wives, and their number was continuously increasing enormously fast.
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was Durgesh’s Chief Bahū Bégum Wife now, almost as important as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself, Durgesh’s de facto Chief Wife.
She’d been there maybe two hours, the sun had just slipped into the haze, no view of the sea that night, when Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad heard footsteps which could only mean one thing!
“Hi Ħafsah Al Muħammad hun, I thought I might find you here.”
““Durgesh, about earlier, I’ve no idea why I said what I did, as soon as I heard myself saying the words out loud, I realized how stupid they sounded. I really am sorry about it.”
“Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad, I know you are and I’ve come up here to tell you not to fret about it, but first I want you to know I’m not mad at you. Okay?”
“Do you mind if I join you, Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad? It’s not much of a sunset, is it?”
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad told me of course Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad didn’t mind and agreed with me.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before I asked,
“So. How long have you wanted to, suck me?”
Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad looked up at me before saying,
“ I really didn’t want to talk about it.”
“No I’m serious, how long?”
“Since I was a kid, if that makes any sense.”
“That’s a long time to keep something bottled up.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes before I handed Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad a lighter and asked if Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad could get a small fire going. It didn’t take Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad long to find a few sticks and logs to put a fire together.
To be honest Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad was glad of the diversion!
Once it was going, Al Ħafsah Al Muħammad sat down again beside me, both of us were leaning back on the same log.
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī watched Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī disappear into the Masjid.
A good girl, this one, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī thought, and brave for so young.
She was nineteen only, wasn’t she?
They were lucky to have her enlisted in their cause.
He wondered what she was doing in the Masjid right now.
I smiled at Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī in the Masjid.
“You are right, sir. Your stepson is actually a terrorist.” Nineteen years old, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, reported to me.
None could believe she was a journalist and hated terrorism very much.
“You know your Ammī and I had a close relationship.” I said gravely.
“Am I your daughter?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked impatiently.
Al Qahar Al Īmān smiled.
“Durgesh is incapable to father any daughter. Don’t worry.”
“Would you still let your daughter, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, marry that pig terrorist?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked Al Qahar Al Īmān.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār wants to cuckold him to Durgesh and herself.” Al Qahar Al Īmān smiled, “Moreover, you need a supporter and friend in the enemy’s camp.”
“I admire your Ammī.” I said.
“Yet you couldn’t keep her with you.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī said bitterly, “My Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, left her husband for you, and…”
“For me?” I interrupted her, “Who told you?”
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī hesitated somewhat.
“Didn’t you both love each other?”
“We do. We still love each other, but your Ammī is fighting against Muslim terrorism. She wants to remain in the enemy’s camp.”
“Leading a life of celibacy?”
“Certainly not. She is a lot smarter than even you think of her.” I smiled, “She pretends that she is working on me to expose me.”
“To expose you?”
“Sure, she is writing a biographical book on me. She wants to blast my ever unconquerable image of a Profound Multiversalist Humanist and the ultramodern Messiah of the entire womankind.”
“And they believe her?”
“That’s where your Ammī’s skills come to play the utmost critical role. It wasn’t easy to convince them. Yet she succeeded.”
“How do you know?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī asked gravely unemotionally.
I looked at her gravely myself.
What did Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī want to say?
Did she suspect her own Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, too?
Was the nineteen years old miraculously intelligent young woman doubting my so vast experience with Musalmān Womankind?
Well, why not?
Even I wasn’t all knowing, Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun.
Lā ilāh illillāh.
Ekam Sadviprā bahudhā vadanti.*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s hands remained at rest on the keyboard of his HVSI laptop.
He contemplated the last sentence he had written.
There were only few educated persons among mujāhidīn.
Among mujāhidāt this number is almost zero.
Entire efforts to kill Narendr Modī have always backfired.
Now Narendr Modī is the 15th Prime Minister of India.
The more he thought of Narendr Modī, the more confirmed he was that Durgesh was himself Narendr Modī in his one more subtle body.
No one believed him.
They even laughed at him.
Yet, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was still confident.
It was powerful enough to cap the opening section of his book, a provocative, a confrontational sentence that would surely bring a million readers excitedly into the heart of his sensational story.
Yet, perhaps, as things stood, it promised too much.
His book ‘Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan: Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā’ was still a best seller.
No one had approved it before publication.
But now it was a blockbuster in sales.
Yes, there are so many critics too.
But the more the book was criticized the more its sale was increased.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is an established writer now, perhaps even more popular than Durgesh himself now.
Durgesh has destroyed his entire career as a writer himself knowingly.
He is more devoted to his Family Movement now than he is devoted to anything else.
The moron is crazy to reestablish family everywhere.
His organization of similar morons, HVSI, is no doubt now ruling the entire creations actually.
Yet, Durgesh is only its Lifelong Chairman, nothing more.
Considering the evidences that he was providing in his book ‘Narendr Modī or Durgesh himself?’, the categorical and authoritative ring of that sentence might invite a subsequent letdown and a reaction of antagonism from his book’s next reader.
And that might be fatal.
Thoughtfully, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī weighed the possibility of modifying the last sentence, in fact the last paragraphs:
‘I would never claim that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā.
I have listed my entire arguments supporting my view in my concerned book ‘Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan: Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā’ already.
Similarly, I would never claim that Narendr Modī is really Durgesh himself in his another subtle body.
I am enlisting my entire arguments why I do think so.
Peruse them carefully, I request.
Think on them.
And then take your own decision for yourself.
Is there any solution to this dilemma fairer?’*
A year ago, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī’s Ammī, Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams, had been press secretary for Durgesh, the Mayor of Ved Nagar.
She had given up her job as managing editor of the HVSI Times and moved to the Mayor House.
“It is not exactly the Front Page,” Dr. Al Faraħ Al Shams said ruefully, smiling somewhat, “But I like being on television and meeting rich socialites. Now I’ve got to leave you for an hour.”
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī pointed at her beautiful Ammī, still immensely beautiful despite her thirty eight running.
Almost entire ladies that had sex with Durgesh did never appear of their age.
Durgesh himself looked anywhere between twenty eight to thirty five, never anymore.
Imāmzādi Ħumayrah Qāzī was the most wonderful of them.
She was eighty eight years actually, twenty three years older than Durgesh even.
Yet she never appeared more than sixty.
Was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan correct in her Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot vaginal rheostat theory changing lines of force with every penetration?*
Bābarah Åālamgīr was immensely pleased that ultimately she had gotten Durgesh inside her.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan guided her step by step how to do it.
“Durgesh is an ever over moral damnfool.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had grimaced.
Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled.
“I do understand. But we need him.”
“That’s right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said, “He still opposes the cuckolding of terrorists, criminals and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn while they are still killing the innocent non Musalmīn, and even true Musalmīn, in the name of Islam.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr watched her mentor spellbound.
She could not forget, however:
On Nargis Sunil Dutt street, in Bājī Rāo Mastānī Nagar, facing the wall of the old city, sat a large luxurious house.
It belonged to Al Åbd Al Mustafā.
He was the father of the owner of the Al Mustafā Shipping Company.
His daughter was not only the owner of the Al Mustafā Shipping Company, she was the owner of the most of the taxicabs of the island as well.
The island was one of the utmost infamous Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Islands.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr waited anxiously as Muħammad cleaned up and changed into dry clothing after his swim ashore.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr both knew that the appearance of Al Muħammad on Modern Democratic Årabia meant a top level mission for Al Fataħ Al Islam.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s policy had been adamantly to cuckold almost every Musalmān to his over ardent Musalmān wife and Durgesh/her Hindu lover.
Neither Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nor her ever insistent ever persistent anti-Muslim Young lady Musalmān Brigade was ever ready to listen to anything reasonable from any Musalmān whosoever.
They had immense undisputed faith in Dr. Ålī Sina’s claim that every Musalmān was either a terrorist or a potential terrorist.
Despite Durgesh’s open disagreement with Dr. Ålī Sina in this matter, and in so many other matters too, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade never stopped to cuckold Musalmīn to themselves and Durgesh.
Modern Democratic Årabia wasn’t actually democratic only.
It was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade’s obsession too, under different rational and humane disguises.
Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi had never succeeded in disgracing Islam as much as in Modern Democratic Årabia.
Al Fataħ Al Islam was an organization devoted to the exodus of Musalmīn from Modern Democratic Årabia.
The emigrated Musalmīn thus were not being settled to any particular country.
They were just fleeing away from Modern Democratic Årabia to protect their dignity, manhood, self-respect, honor and their religion as well.
Modern Democratic Årabia too had its religion Islam mostly but constitutionally it was a secular country now, as India was.
The Musalmīn that opposed her new secular constitution were warned by Modern Democratic Årabia government to decide to obey the constitution or be punished according to the new secular penal code of Modern Democratic Årabia.
Even Durgesh refused to interfere in the internal affairs of Modern Democratic Årabia.
“It’s an internal affair of Modern Democratic Årabia. I haven’t any moral, legal or political right to comment on it.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade smiled on it, triumphantly.
Al Fataħ Al Islam was helping smuggle Musalmīn to anywhere they chose to immigrate.
However, as fast as the Modern Democratic Årabia government caught the Al Fataħ Al Islam boats trying to run the blockade the Musalmān muhājirīn, refugees actually, would be transferred to the detention camps.
Al Muħammad, in a fresh change of clothing, entered the room and nodded to Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
Al Muħammad and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr were intimate friends for a long time.
Yet, both of them didn’t trust Al Åbd Al Mustafā blindly ever.
The risk was not the lives of the Musalmīn.
It was their cuckolding.
That was the very thing they were running away from.
They played a role of formality in front of Al Åbd Al Mustafā.
After all, Al Åbd Al Mustafā was only a sympathizer, not a member of their organization, Al Fataħ Al Islam.
Al Muħammad got right to the point.
“Headquarters has sent me here to stage a mass escape from the detention camps. The reasons are obvious to all of us. What is your opinion, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr?”*
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr watched Al Muħammad gravely.
“She is absolutely anti-Muslim. Even her dream Hindu man, Durgesh, is against the cuckolding of anyone, but…”
“I don’t believe.” Al Muħammad said harshly.
“Is it correct that even you are cuckold to your wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir and Durgesh?”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr smiled forlornly.
“It was the only way to survive then. Not only me, even Imām Ůmar Fārūq, Muħammad Ůsmān and Ålī Abī Tālib too have been cuckolded, not to their immensely righteous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives only, but to their entire Musalmān houseladies that are beautiful.”
“Why the hell you, all the four, didn’t opt for Hijrat already, instead?” Al Muħammad was furious.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never allowed. She called us four her Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn. Ridiculed and disgraced us tremendously.”
“And you couldn’t do anything?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was disgracing our Musalmān houseladies in front of us. We had to protect them.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said helplessly.
Al Muħammad paced the room thoughtfully.
He had been sent to Al Riyāz months before by the secret army of Al Wahābīs.
It was a shame that Musalmīn were still fighting desperately for their own particular denomination, instead of fighting for entire Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was too smart to be defeated.
“She is the lady Iblīs personified.” Al Åbd Al Mustafā had said, “Perhaps Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi himself has come again as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan now.”
“They call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā herself reincarnated.”
“She has learned black magic from Durgesh.” Muħammad Ůsmān had commented.
Al Muħammad had watched them sympathetically.
The morons didn’t even know there isn’t any black magic anywhere.
Allah, how superstitious his Ummat-e-Muslimah is.
No doubt the utmost smart, utmost cunning, young Musalmān lady, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is successfully cuckolding these damn fools to their Musalmān womankind and Durgesh.
Yazīd Malåūn had carefully watched the Musalmīn never get proper education.
Al Muħammad and dozens of the other members of Al Fataħ Al Islam smuggled themselves into the compounds of refugees without the knowledge of the forces of Modern Democratic Årabia, or so they thought.
They set up the schools, hospitals and Masājid, built sanitation facilities, and organized light industry.
Some of the refugees, however, turned back.
They were hopeless people who cared for normalcy and facilities more than their own dignity self respect and freedom.
Perhaps Durgesh was right.
Perhaps there were really some persons who are immensely under evolved that could be classified as ‘Vixu Jantavah’, ‘worms among the people’.
Despite every effort from Al Fataħ Al Islam the refugees were so afraid of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade that they refused outright to fight against them and Modern Democratic Årabia.
They still said that the former rule on Saåūdī Årab was worse than Modern Democratic Årabia.*
Was it really?
Al Muħammad couldn’t contradict it truthfully.
If even a few of the Musalmīn preferred even their cuckolding instead of choosing to live in an Islamic country, it was certainly the time to think how Islamic the so called Islamic countries were.
It reported the horrific truth.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade was absolutely correct.
Most of the present day Musalmīn were not Musalmīn actually.
They were Pseudo Musalmīn.
Their countries were not Islamic countries.
They were Pseudo Musalmīn countries too.
Al Muħammad was horrified for a moment to realize it.
Yet, he knew very well, not to surrender to the truth even if you know it.
The rest of the Pseudo Musalmīn would kill you as they were killing the non Musalmīn.
It wasn’t Islam.
It could never be.
It was really the bloody Årab Imperialism as Anwar Sheikh claimed.
Nevertheless Al Muħammad wasn’t a damn fool to sacrifice his precious life for something called truth.
He wanted to survive.
Who the hell doesn’t?
Al Åbd Al Mustafā and Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr, with the other members of Al Fataħ Al Islam, gave military training to several thousand men and women among the muhājirīn.
They used sticks as rifles and rocks as grenades for the training.
They did it, because it was the only thing they could do.
However, the continuous constant triumphs of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade on the traditional mujāhidīn, had raised a doubt in their hearts whether Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is actually correct?
Is a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt really a rheostat and a Stavak Uncut Hindu Lund is really an electro bar magnet that cuts lines of forces while penetrating a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt?
Is Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Science really true?
Al Muħammad must know better.
Yet, how was it possible Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan won Modern Democratic Årabia only by fucking Durgesh?
If Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Science isn’t true, how Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade is never defeated?
How Narendr Modī won India?
There are some questions to be answered.
Musalmīn were always a military power.
They defeated Christians, Jews, and Persians.
But Hindus were never defeated fully.
If the military power was the ultimate power really as the Musalmīn still believed, why Hindus were ever unconquerable?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade claim it’s Hindus’ Vajr.
Hindus’ male genial organ that is converted into Vajr when Hindus meditate, offer Stavans.
Allah, who the hell could believe in this utter nonsense?
Even if a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān woman converts her Musalmān Cunt into a vaginal rheostat, why not a Musalmān penis similarly becomes an electro bar magnet?
Why an Uncut Hindu Penis is needed instead?
It’s utter nonsense.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an anti-Muslim.
So is her Young lady Musalmān Brigade too.
Al Åbd Al Mustafā was only twenty two years of age.
Yet he was the commander of Al Fataħ Al Islam here.
If the Modern Democratic Årabia government had gotten wind that there were the members of Al Fataħ Al Islam inside the camps they kept quiet about it.
They were still guarding from the outside.
They didn’t have any desire to go into the hate riddled compounds.
“How many people do you want to escape?” Al Åbd Al Mustafā asked.
“Three hundred, more or less.”
Al Åbd Al Mustafā shook his head.
“We have a few tunnels dug but those lead to the sea. As you know the main problem we have is our people themselves don’t want to leave their own homes. They lack jazba-e-hijrat very much.”
“That’s right,” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade call us terrorists outright, instead of mujāhidīn. Even our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies are with them, not with us. Durgesh never wants to cuckold even us, even if we kill, massacre, the so called innocent persons.”
“Innocent my foot,” Al Muħammad shouted, “They have successfully replaced our pro Sunni pro Wahābī administration with their so called Modern Democratic Årabia administration. Modern Democratic Årabia doesn’t discriminate any more among Sunnis, Shiås, Aħmadīs etc. All the denominations of Islam are living in Modern Democratic Årabia now entirely legally.”
“They are imitating Hindustan.” Al Åbd Al Mustafā laughed ironically, “The Musalmān womankind now don’t have her ideal in Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Her ideal is Durgesh now.”
“They claim we are wrong.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “Durgesh himself respects Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam, Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn, Saħābah karām razī Allāhu Tålā ånahum ajmaåīn. Durgesh himself is a Muslim. He has a Hindu father and Wahābī Musalmān mother.”
“Then why doesn’t he support us Musalmīn for our Al Jihad fil Islam fī sabīlillah?” Al Muħammad shouted.
“Instead,” Al Åbd Al Mustafā laughed sarcastically, “his Young Musalmān lady Brigade declares Al Jihad fil Durgesh fī sabīlillah.”
“It was not what Durgesh wanted himself.” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr explained gravely, “Durgesh is against it. It’s one of the Seven Movements of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young lady Musalmān Brigade.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Just Eighteen Just Adult
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was really looking forward to this weekend away with me.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I sat side by side on the plane heading for Spain, Waħīdah Ǻbbās closed her eyes and thought back to how it had all come about.
Allah, how difficult it was to seduce Durgesh, Waħīdah Ǻbbās thought.
And the bastards, Musalmīn, claim Durgesh is a Hindu communal sex maniac.
Durgesh fucks every Musalmān Beauty he meets ever.
Bosh and nonsense.
If the ever communal bastard Musalmīn were true in their ever false ever communal claim, why the hell so many Musalmān Beauties were still dreaming and suffering to have Durgesh as their lover/ live in relationship partner?
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was Just Eighteen Just Adult, and liked to think that she was independent.
She was just coming to the end of her first year at University.
For the last couple of years, Waħīdah Ǻbbās had chosen not to go away on the annual family holiday with her younger sister and her parents.
The previous summer, the rest of the family had gone to Spain, and had spent the day in Barcelona, a city Waħīdah Ǻbbās had always wanted to visit.
When we got back, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was quite jealous of us for having been there, and on the spur of the moment, Durgesh had promised to take her there for a long weekend.
For various reasons, the long weekend had never happened – until now.
About a month ago, the topic of the trip had come up again.
Durgesh was due a few days off, and so – without telling Waħīdah Ǻbbās – he had stumbled about on the internet, and booked them some flights and two rooms at a decent looking hotel.
It had all seemed to work out okay, and she was actually quite proud of me for having booked the holiday that way.
I could barely contain myself when I surprised Waħīdah Ǻbbās with the tickets a few days later.
The excitement had built over the next few weeks as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had both looked forward to the trip.
The two of us had always got on well, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās actually got on better with me than she did with her Ammī, particularly in the last couple of years since she had got over those difficult, early teenage years.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had caught the early flight to Barcelona on the Friday morning, and had until our flight back, late on Sunday afternoon, to enjoy ourselves.
I smiled at Waħīdah Ǻbbās as I caught her looking across at me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I laughed, for no other reason than Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were happy to be getting away for a few days, able to spend some time together.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās shut her eyes and relaxed, thinking about me.
Despite the ever communal ever unjustified in their Hindu hating dastardly claims of the Pseudo Musalmīn, Waħīdah Ǻbbās found me never communal, never Musalmān hating.
I was okay, she thought to herself.
Generous, a good laugh, kind.
And extremely good looking too, Waħīdah Ǻbbās concluded.
Actually, she thought, I was outstandingly handsome, in every kind of way.
Moreover, she knew that almost everyone of her friends fancied me like mad even at my sixty-four.
Was I really sixty-four?
No one believed it ever.
Except perhaps her Nānājān, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, and Durgesh himself.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās laughed to herself at the thought, preferring men her own age, but understanding the attraction of someone older.
Nowadays, it was a surprising trend for Waħīdah Ǻbbās that Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties were mostly interested in senior Hindu males, instead of those of their own age.
In Ved Nagar, it was almost a miracle now if a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty dreams of a Musalmān or a Hindu male of her own age.
“Teenagers are immensely inexperienced.” one of her closest friends, Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, said scornfully, “They are as afraid of taking our cherry as we ourselves are. The bastards, always seeking safe girls who have already lost their cherry either to their fathers or brothers.”*
Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl looked at Ǻāliyah Kāmrān immensely horrified.
“To their fathers or brothers, Ǻāliyah Kāmrān?”
There was a strong disbelief in Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl’s voice.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān laughed at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl.
“I hate you.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl shouted at Ǻāliyah Kāmrān protesting strongly.
“Nevertheless, you are a chicken still now even at your Just Eighteen Just Adult. Stupid girl.”
“Shut up. Keep your filthy mouth shut. You dirty bitch.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl thundered at her.
Some of their friends were watching them quarrel, with interest, but most of them were laughing at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl.
Yes, some of them were neither laughing at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl nor watching them interested in their futile quarrel, but even they were smiling at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl with quite an immense smirk on their lips.
“Chicken,” Ǻāliyah Kāmrān laughed at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl mockingly, “the world is not as moral as you childishly think. Most of the fathers fuck their own daughters and most of the brothers fuck their own sisters until they are not married to their foolish husbands.”
Farħānah Salāħuddīn laughed.
“Not only that,” she confirmed Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, “there are so many Ammīs even who are cougars to the extent that they have their sexual relationship with their own son.”
“You are dirty girls.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl said scornfully, “I hate all of you.”*
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān teased Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl not to humiliate her, to teach her instead the cold and hard things of life.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān wasn’t as lucky as Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl was.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān had had to face grim realities of life, consequently, even while she was Just Eighteen Just Adult only.
The kitten’s eyes, waving back and forth, followed the ball of crumpled paper.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān was waving it high above the arm of the chair.
The kitten was named Green Eyes because of the color of her eyes.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān liked to watch her eyes.
Their pupils were always changing, narrowing to ominous slits and widening to opaque pools of onyx.
Those black and green eyes had an hypnotic effect on Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, as Durgesh himself had on almost entire womankind.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān disagreed.
There isn’t any exception, as far as Ǻāliyah Kāmrān knew.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān’s own elder sisters hated Durgesh once.
They deliberately, stubbornly, married eligible Ǻrab Royal Sheikħs.
Their age difference even didn’t matter at all.
Ultimately, her Māmūjān, Muħammad Yūsuf, was proven to be exactly correct.
Eventually, everyone of her elder sister seduced Durgesh herself.
And now, they are having their actual live in relationship with Durgesh while still married to their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands.
Their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands tried to object on it.
Durgesh immediately transferred his numerous stocks of shares in the oil companies in the name of their wives.
Their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands suddenly found their wives actually controlled now their oil wells even.
Their objections died out eventually after a long futile struggle.
The royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands surrendered to their richer wives for their own financial survival.
It was their bad luck that Saůūdī Årab was not Saůūdī Årab anymore.
She was Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat now.
Modern Democratic Årabia.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was its ever first President.
Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.*
However, it was not exactly as Ǻāliyah Kāmrān thought it was.
Her eldest sister, Kħālidah Kāmrān managed it somewhat differently.
Her Ammī, Kāzimah Yåqūb and I left work early at five o’clock because she wanted extra time to get ready for the Halloween party our friends were throwing tonight.
Kāzimah Yåqūb and I worked together at my office.
I was an utmost successful Sex therapist in the suburbs and Kāzimah Yåqūb was my Colleague lady Sex therapist.
I met Kāzimah Yåqūb just after her second year of medical school to become a Lady Sex therapist.
Kāzimah Yåqūb was 18 at the time.
Shortly after we met, Kāzimah Yåqūb got pregnant from me.
Kāzimah Yåqūb wanted to manage her live in relationship with me, but Kāmrān Hāshimī proposed her surprisingly.
“Why not oblige me, Kāzimah Yåqūb?”
“What do you mean?” Kāzimah Yåqūb could not understand.
“I’m a bisexual, Kāzimah.”
“What? How the hell you know it?” Kāmrān Hāshimī was dumbfounded.
“Nāzimah Raħmān told me.”
“Allah! Is she telling everyone that I am a bisexual?”
“Not bisexual, worse. She is telling everyone that you are impotent, not capable to satisfy any woman. You exploded as soon as you entered Nāzimah Raħmān. Nāzimah Raħmān had to go to Durgesh to extinguish the fire you incompetently set between her legs.”
“Durgesh? She went to Durgesh? But she loves Shankar Mahāpralayankar.” Kāmrān Hāshimī was horrified.
“Nāzimah Raħmān doesn’t love Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Shankar Mahāpralayankar loves Nāzimah Raħmān. Nāzimah Raħmān hates Shankar Mahāpralayankar. He is a Criminal.”
“But… but Shankar Mahāpralayankar said…”
“Nāzimah Raħmān isn’t responsible for what Shankar Mahāpralayankar claims. Only Durgesh could save Nāzimah Raħmān from Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Nāzimah Raħmān hadn’t another option. Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucks even the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs in their asses.”
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar is more powerful than the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs even. The royal Ǻrab Sheikħs can’t protect themselves from his criminal powers.”
“As they sowed so they’re reaping.” Kāzimah Yåqūb said curtly, “The royal Ǻrab Sheikħs created Shankar Mahāpralayankar against Musalmān terrorists to protect their kingdom. They succeeded in protecting their royal kingdom from Musalmān terrorists, but not from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. They thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t do anything. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan slapped them, rather kicked them actually with her far stronger feet than the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had. As they sowed so they reaped. What’s wrong in it?”*
I looked at Waħīdah Ǻbbās, as she sat, totally relaxed, her eyes closed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was quite beautiful, just like her Ammī at that age.
She had had her red hair cut for our break, but it still hung around her shoulders, framing her awfully stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
She really was quite lovely, with her big brown eyes, full lips and pert nose.
Like many girls of her age, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing a tight sleeveless top, with the narrowest of straps, which clung to her body, curving softly around her full Musalmān breasts.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s tanned midriff was bare, the gold cross in her pierced belly button glinting softly.
Her skirt was – according to her Ammī – too short.
Looking across at her, I suddenly felt aware of myself at how my ever experienced Hindu male eyes were drawn to her long, slender, tanned female Musalmān legs.
The flight wasn’t that long.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had been fed a typical airline breakfast, had a couple of cups of coffee, and bought Waħīdah Ǻbbās some duty free perfume, it was time to start descending towards Barcelona.
As soon as the captain announced our approach to the airport, Waħīdah Ǻbbās grabbed My arm, her excitement evident on her terribly stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face, her Musalmān breasts squashed against me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās bent over to try and see more out of the window next to me.
Once the plane landed, and came to a halt at the terminal, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were amongst the first to leave the plane.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I dashed through the airport, hoping that our luggage would arrive quickly.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were in luck – it seemed that only minutes after Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached baggage reclaim, our cases were on the conveyor belt in front of us.
Minutes later, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were in a taxi heading for the city centre.
The taxi driver picked up on our excitement straightaway, and was soon chatting away in his broken English, pointing out the various sights as he drove.
He offered us a sight seeing “detour”, and as it wasn’t much more than the fare itself, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I took him up on his offer.
He drove us up to the highest part of the city, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I gasped at the panoramic views in all directions, of the docks and the cruise ships lined up in one direction, and of the city in the other.
He showed us the historical sights, where the famous football stadium was, where the Olympic village had been, and so much more.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached the hotel, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I couldn’t wait to see more.
I paid off the driver, and then led the way through to the hotel reception, proud to have beautiful young Waħīdah Ǻbbās on my arm, proud yet cautious of the admiring looks Waħīdah Ǻbbās was getting.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to my arm as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I waited in the short queue at reception, both of us chatting away happily.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached the reception desk, I gave the receptionist our name, and then waited while she found our paperwork.
As she looked through it, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both became aware of the looks the receptionist was giving us.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās giggled.
“She thinks I’m either your wife or at least your Musalmān girlfriend,” she told me, hardly able to hold back her giggles.
The receptionist gave me the booking in form to sign with a frosty smile, and asked to see our passports.
I handed over the passports, and then looked at the form the receptionist had asked me to sign.
“I’m sorry,” I told her a few minutes later, “there’s been a mistake. I booked two single rooms, not one twin room.”
As the receptionist took the form back, I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the e-mail confirmation I’d received.
I also had the screen print form when I booked the hotel over the Internet.
“Look – there,” I pointed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked as well.
“Durgesh darling,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried mischievously, seductively, naughtily. “It is wrong – look at the boxes your secretary ticked erroneously. You’ve booked one, Double Bed room, instead of two, Single Bed rooms.
She pointed at the e-mail.
I stared at the paper in front of me.
It suddenly dawned on me what my secretary had done.
“You can’t be trusted with secretaries, can you?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, only half joking as she saw our weekend being spoilt in front of us.
I told her not to worry, that I would sort it out.
But, as the receptionist explained, the hotel was fully booked.
If Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I wanted two rooms, then Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I would have to look elsewhere.
I looked helplessly at Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
“We’ll take it,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās announced firmly. “After all,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me softly, trying to make me feel better, “There is a Double Bed – and a bathroom to get changed in.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I finished booking in, gave the still disbelieving receptionist My credit card details, and then followed the porter to the lifts, and the eighth floor.
He opened the door to our room for us, and placed our cases just inside.
As I tipped him, he gave a knowing wink.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās squeezed my arm, telling me to ignore the porter.
He thought Waħīdah Ǻbbās my young wife or young Musalmān girlfriend and we were here to enjoy sex with each other.
It was normal for him to welcome aged Hindu multimillionaires with their sexy young Musalmān secretaries/ girlfriends.
I followed Waħīdah Ǻbbās into the room.
Like so many hotel rooms, there was a short corridor, with the bathroom off to one side.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās popped her around the door to look inside.
It was actually quite big, with a partially sunken bath as well as a separate shower cubicle.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās came out, she saw that I had stopped.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās walked up behind me, and took in the rest of the room.
It was quite large, with sliding doors out to a balcony which overlooked the city, and a LARGE DOUBLE BED.
She stopped, her eyes frozen on the bed.
I recovered first.
“Don’t worry,” I told her, “It’s probably just two beds pushed together – I’ll get the hotel to move us.”
“Look,” I added, as I flipped up the bed clothes to show her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both stared.
There was only one set of legs.
It was only one bed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I stared at each other.
I eventually broke the silence.
“I’ll get us another room.”
“How?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās asked. “You heard what that receptionist said.” She stared at me for a moment longer. “We’ll just have to put pillows between us like when we were kids.”
Despite myself, I laughed at the memory of when Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had all gone to Disneyland six or seven years before.
The hotel room had two big beds, so Waħīdah Ǻbbās had shared with me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had used pillows to split the bed into two, but by the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had finished, the pillows had begun to look like a barricade.
“Are you sure?” I asked, totally fed up with myself for getting it all so wrong.
“Yes,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told, squeezing my arm reassuringly.
“Now come on, I’m starved. Let’s get unpacked, and then get some lunch,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās added, more brightly than Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt, but wanting to cheer me up.
An hour later, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were sat in the warm spring sunshine, outside a cosy café towards the top end of Las Ramblas, a wonderfully entertaining street in the centre of Barcelona, eating omelettes, Waħīdah Ǻbbās even enjoying a bottle of red wine.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I ate and Waħīdah Ǻbbās drank.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I felt more relaxed, the problems of the last few hours disappeared, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I started to plan our weekend.
I was torn between sight seeing and going to the Nou Camp stadium to soak up the atmosphere and watch football, while Waħīdah Ǻbbās wanting nothing more than to visit all the shops Waħīdah Ǻbbās could find, looking at the sights as Waħīdah Ǻbbās went.
In the end, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I decided Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I would try and do everything.
“Okay, let’s go for it,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, before adding mischievously, “So long as we go shopping first!”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I spent the afternoon shopping.
I actually quite enjoyed it, glad to see Waħīdah Ǻbbās so happy as Waħīdah Ǻbbās took me from shop to shop, trying on dozens of items for every one Waħīdah Ǻbbās bought.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I even went shopping for me, as I gave in at last to Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s pleas for me to “get with it!”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I still hadn’t finished when the shops began to close.
“There’s always tomorrow,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, skipping out of the way as I playfully swung a shopping bag at her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I strolled the half a mile or so back to the hotel, our arms linked, enjoying each other’s company as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I always did.
Back at the hotel, I had a quick shower and then left the bathroom free for Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
When I heard her in the shower, I leisurely dressed, putting on the new clothes that Waħīdah Ǻbbās had left out for me.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās re-appeared, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was dressed and ready to go out.
“What do you think?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās asked, spinning around to show off her new outfit.
While my wolf whistle was meant to be playful, I couldn’t help thinking how good Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had put on a tiny amount of make up, just enough to highlight her extremely sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān features.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing a short, flared skirt and high heels, both of which helped to show off her legs to perfection.
The skirt fitted just tightly enough around her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass to show just how sexy it was.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wore a vest top with very thin straps, with a shirt over the top of it.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had left the shirt unbuttoned, and I couldn’t help but notice how the vest clung to the shape of Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s pert Musalmān breasts.
“You look beautiful, sweet heart,” I told her, “You make me so proud.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās hugged me, telling me I “looked even more killingly handsome than I myself realized”.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I stood close together, I suddenly realised just how good it felt to have Waħīdah Ǻbbās in my arms like this, just how sexy Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt against me.
I let go of her as if I’d been burnt, Mumbling something about us “needing to go out” as Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked at me quizzically.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I ate in the hotel restaurant.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I took our time, and even I felt relaxed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I looked forward to the next few days.
After dinner, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I went for a walk around the place de Catalunya, strolling slowly amongst
the fountains and statues, enjoying the atmosphere.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I got back to the hotel, it was quite late.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I went into our room, there was – just for a moment – an uncertain silence between us, as if Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I didn’t quite know what to do.
But then I went into the bathroom for a quick wash.
When I came out, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was sat on the edge of the bed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās glanced across at me as I came back into the room bare chested.
She stood up, her pyjamas in her hand, and went to take her turn in the bathroom, smiling at me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās brushed past me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly unsure about sharing a room, let alone a bed, with Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, and quickly decided to get changed.
I grabbed the pyjama’s I’d bought earlier and quickly unwrapped them.
I didn’t normally wear pyjama’s, preferring to sleep in the nude or in an old tee shirt if it was cold.
But while there were out shopping I had bought some just for the weekend.
I stood up, quickly pulled my trousers and underwear off.
As I stood naked, reaching out for my pyjamas, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
“Amazing,” I thought, smiling to myself.
At sixty four, I did still look okay.
I always kept my tan, and had managed to avoid putting on too much weight over the years.
While my muscular legs and chest have not softened even slightly with the passing of time, I knew that I could still draw the odd admiring look when I was on the beach.
As I stood naked, my pyjama’s still in my hand, the bathroom door burst open.
I sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed, holding my pyjama’s still in my hand, not even covering my Uncut Hindu Lund and balls, my face startled.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās stopped dead, looking at me, feeling very embarrassed both for her and me.
I looked at her, my mouth suddenly very grave.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing her favourite Winnie the pooh pyjamas.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had had them for years, so they were now a bit too small, but she still loved to wear them.
The short sleeved top, which had once been baggy on her, now fitted snugly over her Musalmān breasts, her nipples clearly visible.
I stared at her, at the picture of the bear on the front, at the way the picture moved with her, with her body, with her Musalmān breasts, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās breathed.
Her pyjama bottoms were shorts, and while they had once reached her knees, they were now half way up her tanned thighs.
Behind her, in the other wall mirror, I could see just how tight they were over her firm Musalmān ass, how they clung to her soft Musalmān curves.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās stared at my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund dumbfounded.
We both were in trance.
For how much time, none of us knew.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās just kept staring at my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund dumbfounded.
I kept watching Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās recovered first.
“Come on Durgesh darling, get a move on,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās crossed to the other side of the room, doing her best not to look in my direction as she started to put her clothes away in the wardrobe.
“Waħīdah Ǻbbās, I’m trying to get changed,” I told her, saying the first thing that came into my head.
I felt angry with myself for getting us into this mess, and with Waħīdah Ǻbbās for being so sexy, so beautiful.
And with myself for the way my Uncut Hindu Lund was reacting openly.
“Oh come on, Durgesh darling, I won’t look.”
“Well you better not,” I told her, trying not to look in her direction, my voice unexpectedly gruff.
“And if I do? I’ve already more than enough. I’ve already digested too much what the unique you have for us womankind.” Waħīdah Ǻbbās teased me.
“I’ll have to spank you,” I retorted, automatically using our standard joke.
I glanced in the mirror and saw that Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking away now.
I carefully shook my pyjamas to unfold them, before standing up to step into them.
I glanced up again.
This time I saw Waħīdah Ǻbbās in the mirror, looking in my direction.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could obviously see my buttocks, but that wasn’t where Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking in the mirror as well, at my reflection, at my rock hard Uncut Hindu Lund swaying in front of me, at my heavy Hindu balls hanging beneath.
I dragged my pyjamas up my legs and sat down.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had been looking at me so openly.
Or had I imagined it?
Her voice was small, so quiet I could hardly hear her, even though Waħīdah Ǻbbās was now stood next to me.
I felt angry again, at her, at myself.
I reached out and grabbed Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s arm, dragging her to me and throwing her over my knee.
“I told you what would happen,” I almost shouted, as my hand crashed down onto her perfect big ass, barely hidden by the thin material stretched tightly over her hot Musalmān body.
She screamed and wriggling, kicking her legs as my hand crashed down again.
I felt the heat of her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass against my hand as I smacked her for a third time.
I stopped, breathing heavily, my hand resting on her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, her heat radiating through to me.
I was suddenly aware of her Musalmān breasts and belly against my leg, of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her pyjama top had ridden up and I looked down at her back, at her smooth skin, at her beautiful sun tan, at the small tattoo at the base of her spine, at the way her narrow waist flared out to meet the soft curves of her hips and ass.
A groan escaped from deep within me as I ran my hand softly over her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, and up onto her back, feeling the shape of her sexy Musalmān body.
I slipped my hand into the back of her shorts, pulling them down as I ran the tip of my middle finger down between her cheeks, knowing it was wrong but totally unable to stop myself.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās gasped, trying to take in what was happening, trying to understand why the pain Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was now being overwhelmed by the pleasure shooting through her.
“Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried, wriggling harder as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my finger scratching lightly over her puckered Musalmān bum, as waves of pleasure washed through her.
“Durgesh, stop,” she moaned, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hard Uncut Hindu Lund against her belly, as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot flooded, as She pressed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot herself down against my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I sensed the change in her, but couldn’t work out what it was.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was still wriggling, but her movements were now more deliberate, more controlled.
My already hard Uncut Hindu Lund stiffened even more as I realised that Waħīdah Ǻbbās was actually rubbing her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot against it, against the hardness of my knee.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās thought Waħīdah Ǻbbās was going to faint.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, her whole body, ached with the pleasure surging through her.
Her nipples felt like they were ready to burst they felt so hard.
And beneath her, Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel the hardness, the heat, of mine.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās couldn’t stop herself.
It was as if a floodgate had suddenly opened.
She pressed her whole body down against me, wanting me.
With a groan, I felt Waħīdah Ǻbbās press down against me.
I pushed my hand further into her pyjamas, reaching down between her legs to find her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried out as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my Uncut Hindu Lund on her, suddenly scared, very scared, by the depths of her feelings, of her need, of her desire for me, of her need for release.
She scrambled away from me, falling onto the floor before quickly standing up.
Her chest was heaving, her nipples rock hard against the thin material of her top.
There was a dark patch on her shorts where Waħīdah Ǻbbās had been rubbing against me.
I looked Waħīdah Ǻbbās up and down, drinking in her sexiness, my heart thumping.
I saw her eyes looking down at me.
Glancing down, I realised for the first time that my Uncut Hindu Lund had escaped through the open fly of my pyjamas, and was now stood erect, all eight inches of it, thick and hard, the head red and engorged, and already wet with pre cum.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Lund jerk.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s eyes widened as Waħīdah Ǻbbās watched my Uncut Hindu Lund swaying.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās didn’t resist, didn’t want to resist, instead when Waħīdah Ǻbbās herself grabbed me, plunging herself to me, her mind blanked by lust.
Her shorts were half ripped away from her body as she grabbed them and plunged herself towards me.
I caught a fleeting glimpse of her red hair, but then Waħīdah Ǻbbās was straddling me, neither of us sure of what was happening, neither of us wanting to stop, but both of us knowing that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had to.
“Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās almost sobbed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās knelt over my lap, her knees on the bed each side of my nude Hindu male thighs.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās didn’t feel in control of her body any more.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel my hands on her hips, the unbearable heat of my Uncut Hindu Lund against her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās groaned.
“Durgesh, I’ve never ……..”
And then Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hands pulling her down onto me.
Her knees collapsed under her, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt the searing heat of my rigid Uncut Hindu Lund driving upwards into her ardent Musalmān body.
“….. done this before …” Waħīdah Ǻbbās finished, my Uncut Hindu Lund already deep inside her like a rod of steel.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās screamed with pain, with desire, as My Uncut Hindu Lund tore into her body.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās automatically straightened her legs, lifting herself away from me.
She sobbed, tears welling up in her eyes.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked at me, at the awful confused, pained expression on my face, at the horror at what had happened, what she’d done, in my ever experienced Hindu male eyes.
“Oh Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās breathed, lowering her body back onto mine.
This time it was I who was frozen, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered her sexy young body back down onto me.
She moved slowly, almost gingerly, reaching down to hold my Uncut Hindu Lund, her hand barely big enough to reach around my thick Hindu shaft. Waħīdah Ǻbbās wrapped her other arm round my neck as she eased my Uncut Hindu Lund back into her body, wanting me, wanting my Uncut Hindu Lund, desperately.
I held her hips lightly, not quite believing what was happening, watching Waħīdah Ǻbbāss face as Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered herself onto my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund.
I couldn’t believe how hot, how wet, how tight Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt as the engorged head of my Uncut Hindu Lund slid into her.
I somehow resisted the urge to push my Uncut Hindu Lund into her as deep as I could, to pull her hips down onto me, and let Waħīdah Ǻbbās take her time.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered herself onto my lap, Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips stretching around my Uncut Hindu Lund as it slipped into her.
The pain Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was being washed away by the strength of her pleasure as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot moulded itself to every ridge, every contour, of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
With a deep groan, she settled onto my lap, all eight inches of my thick Uncut Hindu Lund buried inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was in awe of her body, of the pleasure surging through her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had no idea how all of that wonderful Uncut Hindu Lund had fitted inside her, but it had.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt so full, as if my Uncut Hindu Lund was reaching up to between her Musalmān breasts.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wrapped her arms around My neck and looked into my ever experienced Hindu male eyes, seeing the same need, the same desire in my ever experienced Hindu male eyes as Waħīdah Ǻbbās was sure I could see in hers.
Her legs were spread wide, her knees each side of me.
It felt as though Waħīdah Ǻbbās was being split apart by my Uncut Hindu Lund, speared deep inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel my balls against her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, my hands stroking her hips, running softly over her body.
Still looking into my ever experienced Hindu male eyes, she eased herself up on my Uncut Hindu Lund, feeling it sliding out of her a few inches before dropping back onto me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wiggled her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass a little, and then lifted herself again, enjoying the wonderful sensations flooding her body more and more, enjoying the feel of my Uncut Hindu Lund deepest inside her, the feel of my skin peeling back over my Uncut Hindu Lund head each time she moved her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot up and down my Hindu length.
It seemed natural for us to kiss, tentatively at first, our lips barely touching.
But then Waħīdah Ǻbbāsicked slowly along My lips, before poking her tongue between them, feeling our way inside my mouth.
Moments later, our lips were locked together, our tongues thrusting and exploring.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I kissed, I pulled Waħīdah Ǻbbās to me, feeling her Musalmān breasts, her hard nipples against my chest even through her flimsy pyjamas, our hips now moving as one.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I broke our kiss, staring at each other as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I gasped for breath, our lips still for a moment.
Silently, Waħīdah Ǻbbās reached for the hem of her top, and pulled it slowly up her body and over her head.
I gasped, my Uncut Hindu Lund jerking inside her, as the rest of her body was uncovered.
My ever experienced Hindu male eyes moved with her, following the edge of her top upwards.
Firstly, it was her flat, well toned belly with the little gold cross nestling in her belly button.
I had always been against her having her navel pierced, but now all I could think about was how sexy it looked, Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked.
As the top went up higher, my hands moved from her hips and slowly up the sides of her slender body, her skin smooth and soft under my touch.
Gradually, as if in slow motion, the soft swell of her Musalmān breasts came into view.
I moaned, my hands tightening around her, as her sexy young Musalmān breasts were unveiled to me.
They were bigger than I’d ever imagined, but still firm, very firm and beautifully shaped.
They seemed to turn upwards at the end, and were slightly conical shaped, her nipples hard and swollen, the aureoles dark and wide.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās saw how I was looking at her, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot throbbing at the expression on my face.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās held still for a few long moments, her arms above her head, her Musalmān breasts thrust out to me, wanting me, as I feasted on her extraordinary Musalmān beauty.
I reached out to her, my hands moving smoothly across her body to cup her Musalmān breasts.
I sighed as I felt her firmness beneath my hands, just as Waħīdah Ǻbbās sighed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hands on her, the rough skin on my thumbs scraping lightly over her sensitive nipples.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās threw her top onto the floor and pulled my head to her.
I pressed my head into her cleavage, my hands still on her Musalmān breasts, the two of us still for a moment except for the gentle movement of our hips, of my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.
I watched as her nipples puckered and tightened even more under my touch as I moved from one to the other I squeezed them gently, and then harder.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās held my head to her, wanting, needing, my attention, her hips rising as Waħīdah Ǻbbās began to fuck my thick, hard Uncut Hindu Lund again.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I moved as one, my Uncut Hindu Lund ploughing into her, stretching her, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to me, as I squeezed her Musalmān breasts and nipples, my hands roaming easily over her body.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt as though My Uncut Hindu Lund was filling her entire body.
It felt huge inside her – and Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved it.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way it filled her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, reaching deep inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way it moved, the way her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot wrapped itself around it.
And Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way the pain, the dull ache, Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was now being replaced by waves of intense, almost painful, pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt nothing like it ever before.
The pleasure filling her, reaching the very ends of her body, was amazing, and was being driven there by my stunning Uncut Hindu Lund inside her body, by my hands on her body, by my mouth on her Musalmān breasts.
Everything was a blur as Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to me, holding me tighter and tighter as the pleasure inside her became almost unbearable.
Our hips, our bodies, were moving faster now, my Uncut Hindu Lund reaching deeper and deeper inside her as everything else was forgotten except for our pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried out as her orgasm tore through her body, wave after wave of intense pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās threw her head back, her chest flushed, her body tense, as I buried my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her and clung to her, in awe of her reaction, of the pleasure Waħīdah Ǻbbās was enjoying.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was almost sobbing with relief as her body relaxed, as I began fucking her again.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was bouncing up and down on my lap as I drove my Uncut Hindu Lund wildly into her, her Musalmān breasts bouncing in front of me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās rode my violent Hindu thrusts, as she straddled my knees, pushing down to meet my Uncut Hindu Lund as I drove it deepest into her body.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I fucked, her juices poured from her onto my Uncut Hindu Lund and balls, the room echoing to the wet sounds of our bodies moving together.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my Uncut Hindu Lund grow even bigger inside her as my climax approached, as another climax washed through her.
As my Hindu cum threatened to erupt inside from me, I started to lift Waħīdah Ǻbbās away from my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“No,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried, understanding what I was trying to do, “it’s okay. Give it to me inside, please.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās drove her body downwards, using her weight to drive my Uncut Hindu Lund back inside her just as my balls contracted and sent my Hindu cum into her body in thick jets.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both cried out, I at my release and Waħīdah Ǻbbās at the feel of my Hindu cum filling her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, mixing with her juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I clung together, my Uncut Hindu Lund throbbing inside her, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot squeezing my n cum from me.
I collapsed backwards on the bed, breathless, my muscular body slick with sweat.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās lay down on top of me, her cheek resting on my chest, my softening Uncut Hindu Lund still filling her hot, wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“I love you, Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās murmured, hugging me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my arms around her, “I love you now even more than I ever did before. Thank you. Thank you very much for accepting me in your life forever, my dear Hindu husband.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I lay still for long moments, savouring the feel of each other, before Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I inevitably thought about what had happened.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both knew that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I should be feeling guilty, but Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I didn’t.
All Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I knew was that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I wanted it more, much more.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās got up slowly.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās knelt beside me, I propped myself up on my elbows, looking at her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās leant over and kissed me softly, her hand resting on my belly.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked down at my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was still semi erect, lying at the base of my belly, still slick with cum and juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās giggled at the fact that I still had my pyjama bottoms on, at the huge wet patch from her juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās dragged them down my legs, leaving me naked, and then got up off the bed.
I watched her, drinking in her ardent Musalmān nakedness, her beauty, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās crossed the room and went into the bathroom.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
“Try to understand.” Tawħīd Muħammad Ħasan smiled sophisticatedly, “Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah is the only solution to get rid of the ever dominant Time Cycle of Årab Burdāfaroshs. Ab initio, right from the beginning of Årab Time Cycle, Årab Burdāfaroshs are selling us Musalmān Beauties, us Årab Beauties at least, to the Hindus. Whenever Pseudo Musalmīn lose their Bhogyantrānk our selling to Hindus immediately starts. To end this bloody Årab Time Cycle we have to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Of course, the ever selfish Pseudo Musalmīn would oppose the very concept of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. We can’t expect their cooperation in establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. It’s disgraceful to them, but not disgraceful to us Musalmān Beauties ever.”
Suddenly there was pin drop silence.
None of them was prepared for such a blunt question from Tawħīd Muħammad Ħasan.
It had been decaying and breaking down for centuries and only one man fully realized that fact.
It wasn’t so easy a task.
Fortunately, by the Grace of Allah, Imām Muħammad Ħasan found one of his daughters, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was extraordinary brilliant, intelligent and smart enough to the extent that almost everyone complimented her calling her As If Reincarnation of Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimahrza herself.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan suddenly saw the possibilities of bringing his dreams true.*
Damn it, whatsoever the hell the realty was, Imām Muħammad Ħasan could use this ever incurable obsession of Hindus and the Musalmān Beauties for each other, using the extraordinary talent of his exceptionally smart daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.*
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan noted quite surprised very much that she still appeared not to be more than fifty.
Anyone could only imagine Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was somewhere around forty to forty-five.
The most she could be was fifty.
Not any more.
Allah, he wouldn’t have believed if someone else had told him it.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī couldn’t be less than eighty/eighty five.
Yet she doubtlessly looked more than forty years younger than Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī actually was.
Was what she claimed true?
Only because Durgesh fucks her, she is gloriously beautiful still now?
How the hell it could be?
But then how Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was still so glamorously young?
Well, he couldn’t believe his own daughter.
Isn’t she in her earlier thirties only?
She has a long way to learn how diplomatic the politicians are ever.
They can’t speak the entire truth ever.
It’s dangerous to their politics.
The common people can’t bear it.
One has to lie to the common people for the common people’s own benefits.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled.
“Shouldn’t have you asked your own daughter, Imām Sāħab?” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled disarmingly.*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan deliberately ignored her suggestion.
“I wonder your ever youth my lady.” He managed to say however genuinely appreciating her.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī laughed.
“Isn’t it natural?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan deliberately avoided to prolong the discussion.
It wasn’t Makkah Mukarramah.
It wasn’t former Saůūdī Årab.
It was Ved Nagar.*
He controlled himself.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī laughed.
“Allah tabāruk tålā cannot degrade the Musalmīn to the extent that he would make entire infinite creations on the permanent scientific system that a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān female genital organ would work as a rheostat forever while the male genital organ of a Hindu Shaktimān would work as an electrified magnetic bar. The Hindu electrified magnetic bar that passes through the rheostat always changing the lines of Panjvaqtah Namāzī female Musalmān magnetic force with every back and forth motion.”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled triumphantly.
“On the contrary, I think that’s the exact permanent scientific system established by Allah Rabbil Åālmīn to destroy communalism forever.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t dumbfounded.
Neither he was even surprised even a bit.
He was arguing on the subject ever since his wife Nafīsah Salmān presented the theory in front of him when he only a Mukħtār at Tabah.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had warned her.
“He is still communal. He doesn’t differentiate between a communal Criminal/Criminal minded terrorist Musalmān and a true Musalmān that’s an asset to humanity as Ħuzūrs, Kħulfa-e-Rāshidūnrz, Maulānah Saiyad Abul Åālā Mawdūdīrħ, Dr. APJ Åbdul Kalām, Sāħir Ludhiyānvī, etc.”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled.
“I must admit, though, that when I approached the Hindus first, my approach was purely physical, sexual I mean, not scientific.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan shrugged.
“I appreciate your sincerity and honesty, my lady. But you are not alone. So are we all.”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was entirely nude on her knees.
I was also nude on my knees behind her.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t resist to appreciate our still excellent still miraculously athletic bodies.
He had seen me fucking his entire extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies always.
She was more than eighty.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched fascinated.
Well, what’s wrong in it?
Don’t the both of them make a perfect pair?
Aren’t the Musalmīn instructed:
‘Alyaum uħill lakumuttayyibātu v’ t’åāmullazīn ūtulkitāb ħillallakum v’ t’åāmukum ħillallahum valmuħsanātu minal Mu’mināti valmuħsanātu minallazīn ūtulkitāb min qablikum izāātaitumūhunn ujūrahunn muħsinīn ghair musāfiħīn v’ lā muttakħizī akħdānin.’
‘This day are all good things made lawful for you. The food of those who have received the Scripture is lawful for you, and your food is lawful for them. And so are the virtuous women of the believers and the virtuous women of those who received the Scripture before you, when ye give them their marriage portions and live with them in honor, not in fornication, nor taking them as secret concubines.’
— Al Qur’an Al Majīd: 5 Al Māedah|5
Why the hell it was so?
Why the All Knowing, Al Ålīmun Al Kħabīrun, Allah tabāruk tålā Rabbil Åālmīn never entrusted the Musalmīn with the responsibility of the women who were not Al Muħsanātu, the virtuous women?
Because He was Al Ålīmun Al Kħabīrun.
He knew very well that the Årabs were burying their daughters alive in the graves.
They kidnapped the beautiful Årab young women from the other Årab Kabīlahs, other Årab tribes and used to auction/sell them as beautiful women slaves to then Indian Hindus that were the richest males then.
The Hindus were thus already taking care of those women who were not Al Muħsanātu.
‘N’ yé divah pr’thivyā antamāpurn māyābhirdhandām paryabhūvan,
Yujam vajram vr’shbhashchakr indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat.’
‘The persons that didn’t reach the end of celestial bodies and earth, neither chagrined by prudences the one that gives wealth all over. Vr’shabh did vajr to ‘yuj’. The controller of organs continuously milked the cows of darkness, with light.’
‘Udyachchhadhvamap raxo hanāthémām
nārīm SUKR’TE dadhāt.
Dhātā vipashchit patimasyai vivéd,
bhago rājā pur étu prajānan.’
‘Stand up/Raise ye. Smite away the demons. SET THIS WOMAN for WELL DOER. Inspired holder/guardian must know especially the husband for her. The well knowing politician come first/ahead for her genital organ.’
―Ved: 4 Atharv Ved: 14/1/59
If what AlQur’anAl Karīm claims is true, why Ved can’t be the everfirst Book Allah tabāruk tålā has given to the humankind?
They say Durgesh has deliberately translated Ved so that it doesn’t contradict what AlQur’anAl Karīm says.
Not only the traditional Hindus charge Durgesh thus, even some of the Musalmīnare not for behind these communal traditional Hindus.
But even if it’s true, why the hell Musalmīn should oppose Durgesh ever?
Shouldn’t the Musalmīn support Durgesh blindly if Durgesh has really translated Ved deliberately not to contradict what Al Qur’an Al Karīm proposes?
There was nothing too exotic, too unusual, about the ground car.
There were two seats in tandem.
Each of that could hold three.
There were doors at each end of each seat.
The glossy sections that might ordinarily have been windows were black and opaque.
It was undoubtedly because of appropriate polarization.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was acquainted with that.
Ved Nagar was undoubtedly the utmost ultramodern scientific dream city.
They said it was the gateway to the Multiverse.
The interior of the car was lit by two round spots of brilliant green illumination in the ceiling.
The only thing Imām Muħammad Ħasan felt to be strange was the transmitter set into the partition immediately before the front seat and, of course, the added fact that there were no visible controls.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled respectfully to Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī.
“My lady, Umm-Al-Åālmīn, Umm Al JamhūriyatAl Årabiyat, I suppose the driver is on the other side of this partition?”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled politely.
“Exactly so, Imām Muħammad Ħasan. Yet we can give our orders in this fashion.”
She leaned forward slightly and flicked a toggle switch that set a spot of red light flickering.
“You may start now.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said to the driver quietly, “We are ready.”
There was a muted whir that faded almost at once.
Then there was a very slight, very transitory pressing against the back of the seat, and then nothing.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was meticulously briefed about Ved Nagar yet even then;he couldn’t control himself from being surprised.
It was his ever first visit to the Dream City Ved Nagar.
“Are we moving?” he asked in surprise.
“Sure, we are.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled courteously, “Most of the ground cars here at Ved Nagar don’t move on wheels. They glide along a diamagnetic Eīshān Vaigyānic force field. Except for acceleration and deceleration, we’ll feel nothing.”
“Allah, what about curves?”
“The car will bank automatically to compensate. Its level is maintained when traveling up or downhill.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan said dryly,
“The controls must be complicated, I think.”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī laughed.
“Being jealous of Hindus? Don’t be. Ved Nagar is a Secular City. Its Commissioner of Police is a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān, Muħammad Åbdullah.”
“Then why a Hindu name, Ved Nagar?”
“It was the name supported by us Musalmān Beauties too as well as by the Vedic Monotheist Hindus.”
“I see. So you Musalmān Beauties are the perfect slaves of Hindus here?”
“Slavery is a punishable crime here, my dear, on the contrary. Here at Ved Nagar we can’t use even a human servant.”
“The Municipal Corporation of Ved Nagar has passed a resolution that no human may be disgraced here ever by using him/her as a servant. The robots are there to serve humankind in as large a number as it’s needed.”
“There are rumors in Pseudo Musalmīn that in Ved Nagar the Hindus have Musalmān servants only to humiliate us Musalmīn.”
“See yourself. Musalmīn are too here quite respected. The only prerequisite they have to surrender to live here is they have to get proper education. No uneducated/under educated human being can get any permanent residence here.”
“I see. I asked the controls of this car must be complicated. ”Imām Muħammad Ħasan deliberately changed the subject.*
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī let him change the subject.
“Quite automatic.” She said, “The driver of the vehicle is a robot.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan deliberately decided not to be more interested in the damn ground car.
The hell with it.
“How long will this take?” he asked as casually as he could make it.
Damn Ved Nagar.
Really the incredible Dream City.
Hell with it too.
“About an hour.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī cooed.
She was enjoying his irrational jealousy.
Why the hell Imām Muħammad Ħasan was jealous after all?
Weren’t his entire Musalmān houseladies residing here now permanently?
I had also offered him a grand residence with any of his numerous Musalmān houseladies.
The offer was still open.
Yet Imām Muħammad Ħasan himself said that he was more interested in serving Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī went on,
“Air travel would have been speedier. But Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was concerned to keep you enclosed for your own safety and honor. You see you’ve dishonored Utmost Ultramodern Kħātūn-e-Jannatrz Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan in Makkah Mukarramah, Modern DemocraticÅrabia.”
“Sorry, the aircraft models available on Ved Nagar do not lend themselves to complete enclosure as does a ground car such as that in which we are now riding.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan himself couldn’t understand why he was acting so irrationally annoyed.
Wasn’t it his own plan?
And when it has succeeded, he wasn’t enjoying it as he should have.
For a moment,Imām Muħammad Ħasan stared curiously at Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī.
A slut transformed now into an Al Muħsanah, a virtuous woman.
Shouldn’t Musalmīn must be grateful to Durgesh for it, instead of hating him.
What the hell the Pseudo Musalmīn wanted?
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī should have continued to be a slut for Hindus?
Was it more respectful for Pseudo Musalmīn?
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was immensely grateful to Durgesh.
And why the hell she shouldn’t be?
He controlled himself.
“Let’s get on with it, my lady. Before arriving here, I was briefed on Ved Nagar. But I couldn’t understand anything my daughter told me. She said Ved Nagar is actually the gateway to Multiverse.”
“That’s right. It leads to a planet the diameter of which is 9,500 miles. That’s the outermost of thirty-seven planets. All the planets are surprisingly inhabited.”
“How is it possible?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan asked furiously, “Shouldn’t at least the nearest planet to the sun be as hottest as the inhabitants there can’t survive? Shouldn’t at least the farthest planet to the sun must be as coldest as the inhabitants there can’t survive?”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled prudently.
“That’s the point. They are neither hottest nor coldest to the extent.”
“I never heard of any solar system that has as many as thirty seven inhabitable planets.”
“Fabiayyi ālāi Rabbikumā tukazzibāni.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī smiled at him meaningfully.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t say anything whatsoever.*
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī continued, however, now more confidently even.
“In climate and atmosphere, all these thirty seven planets almost resemble Earth to somewhat lesser or greater extent.”
“Let me see,” Imām Muħammad Ħasan raised his right hand, “are you trying to tell me modestly that Ved Nagar is actually Hindu Vishv Underground, now even more powerful than ever?”
“Well, there are some nations even that share your suspicion, Imām Muħammad Ħasan. You aren’t alone.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“No comment, gentleman.”
After a length, Imām Muħammad Ħasan managed to say.
“UNO knows of these facts?”
“Can these facts be hidden?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan felt like an inhabitant of one of the smaller Cities, visiting the greatest City in the entire history of humankind.
He was counting the Levels in awe.
He had thought of a ‘dwelling’ as something like an apartment unit.
But it was nothing like that at all.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan passed from room to room endlessly.
Of course, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was with him on her knees and elbows.
I was still fucking her passionately from her glorious behind.
Panoramic, broad, windows were shrouded closely, allowing no hint of disturbing day to enter.
Lights came to life noiselessly from hidden sources as we entered into a room and died out again, as quietly when we left.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was wondering now whether his utmost ambitious daughter, now Al Sadar Al JamhūriyatAl Årabiyat, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the President of Modern Democratic Årabia, has imprisoned him shrewdly under the disguise of arranging a visit of Ved Nagar to him.
He couldn’t assure himself.
“So many rooms, my dear Hindu son in law?” said Imām Muħammad Ħasan, “So many. It’s like a very tiny City.”
“It would seem so, Abbū.” I smiled fucking Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī still vehemently, with equanimity.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan appreciated me genuinely.
What a man.
What a decent gallant man.
His own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān houseladies had degraded him, disgraced him, humiliated him, and even cuckolded him to themselves and this thorough Hindu gentleman.
But Durgesh never stopped respecting him.
He called him ‘Imām Sāħab’ when Nafīsah Salmān was with them and even ‘Abbū when Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was with them.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never approved of his Ammī’s relationship with me might get any priority on her own relationship with me ever.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t understand why it was necessary to crowd so many residents of Ved Nagar together with Imām Muħammad Ħasan in close quarters.
“How many will be living with me here, Durgesh, my son?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan asked.
“With you?” I was surprised, “It’s your residence here at Ved Nagar, Abbū. Your daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan owns it. There will be herself when she comes here, me and a number of extremely beautiful easy to eyes lady robots.”
Allah, he had forgotten he was briefed expressly that Ved Nagar was a highly robotized utmost ultramodern City.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam