1: Of my Musalmān friends
Al Raħmān Al Åbbās family
Durgesh Al Saåīdah Al Zāfar
Durgesh Al Asmā Al Salmān
Durgesh Al Asmā Al SalmānNādirah Åzīm called out as her husband and I walked into the kitchen.
“Okay, boys, I’m heading out now!”
“I’ll see you later, honey.” Nādirah Åzīm said, kissing Muħammad Raħmān as she began to step out the door.
Before she walked out, she turned to me:
“And you, ever young Hindu man. You better not get into trouble with my extremely beautiful naughty Musalmān lady friends while we’re gone tonight. They are sex starved and they may drain you out of your so called infinite Hindu sexual prowess even. I don’t prohibit you to satisfy them sexually if they need it. Nevertheless I’ve warned you how ravenous they are sexually. Watch yourself not to be drained out completely.”
Muħammad Raħmān laughed,
“Hey, Al Nādirah Al Åzīm, you are warning my Hindu stepfather as if you yourself need his skills after you return.”
Nādirah Åzīm smiled teasingly at her naughty husband.
“Maybe your joke come true sometimes, Muħammad Raħmān. Don’t kid me thus every now and then. I know you believe Durgesh and I too have extramarital affair despite our constant denials.”
Muħammad Raħmān laughed.
“I can’t believe Durgesh is so available to you and you are still loyal to me.”
“Are you impotent?” Nādirah Åzīm teased him.
“You know I’m not.” Muħammad Raħmān smiled, “Nevertheless, I’m not Durgesh after all. He is the Sex god, everyone believes it.”
Nādirah Åzīm didn’t reply Muħammad Raħmān.
She turned to me once more,
“We might not come back until very late or early tomorrow morning.”
“I know, I know, Nādirah Åzīm.” I started, “I’ll just be here serving your needy beautiful Musalmān lady friends. However, they aren’t ravenous. Their husbands leave them ravenous.”
“Okay, my over human Hindu stepfather in law, you are already called the Hindu Al Buåūlatul Muslimāt. They claim we entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies are having sex with you actually, however much we deny it. Nobody believes us even a bit. It’s all right. Enjoy them. They really need sex from you. Their husbands don’t take care of them optimum sexually.”
“Because they suspect them.”
“And aren’t they right? Don’t my entire beautiful Musalmān lady friends ravenously have sex with you?”
“Nādirah Åzīm, if their husbands had provided them it they would have never needed me.”
“Why don’t you tell them it? Aren’t they your own friends? They pay you monthly heavy amounts as your Sex Therapy sessions with their extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wives. Isn’t it a fact that they never want their wives cured? They actually want to get rid of them sexually.”
“Al Nādirah Al Åzīm.”
“Isn’t it a fact that today Musalmīn are tired of Islam actually? They have surrendered completely to the present materialistic western culture? They don’t want to waste their precious time in worthless sexual activities with their wives. They want to earn money instead. Their sexual responsibilities to their wives are burden for them. That’s why they have friendship with you.”
“You are not Sex Therapist for your filthy rich Musalmān friends actually.” Nādirah Åzīm blurted out furiously, “They call you that to deceive you. Actually they use you as an extremely successful Hindu male prostitute for their over sexy Musalmān houseladies. Isn’t it true? Tell me you don’t understand it. You aren’t that foolish yourself. Isn’t it?”
Muħammad Raħmān held her hand.
“It’s alright, Nādirah Åzīm. Our entire present social system is rotten absolutely now. It’s true cure is Islam. But there isn’t true Islam anywhere itself. Instead of fighting with non Muslims for Årab Imperialism if we Musalmīn…”
“Let me tell your over human Hindu stepfather that he must never think his filthy rich Musalmān friends are innocent. They are not. They want their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives to have extramarital sex with Durgesh so that they are free to do their corporate business more successfully. I hate these hypocrisy oriented swines.”
Muħammad Raħmān smiled at me,
“Sorry, Dad. She is angry now. You know she respects you but she can’t bear your hypocrite Musalmān friends.”
“I understand, Muħammad Raħmān. My plans were canceled at the last minute anyway. By the way, where were you guys going again?”
“We’ll be at Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s. She’s hosting a party with a bunch of people you may or may not know. Nothing you need to worry about, I guess.” Nādirah Åzīm said flatly. “Now goodbye, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she headed out the door.
I smiled sarcastically.
Nādirah Åzīm wasn’t so innocent herself as she tried to appear to everyone.
Why the hell otherwise she called me ‘sweetie’?
I was her father in law step or else.
I wasn’t her junior or equal even.
She never accepted me her father in law.
She still respected Muħammad Raħmān’s real father, my friend, Al Muħammad Al Åbbās.
Al Muħammad Al Åbbās was a sophisticated innocent multimillionaire that was too ethical to understand his wives sexual needs.
I took advantage of his generosity and fucked his entire extremely beautiful Musalmān wives one by one.
She could not understand why Al Muħammad Al Åbbās and Al Muħammad Al Raħmān both thought I was innocent and their immensely loyal family friend.
Muħammad Raħmān smiled.
“You don’t know anything. Durgesh Dad isn’t fucking our entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Our entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies are fucking Durgesh Dad instead. If Durgesh Dad isn’t keeping it secret…”
“What secret?” Nādirah Åzīm blurted out furiously, “What is secret there? Your youngest sister, Al Sāmiyah Al Raħmān’s eighteenth birthday hasn’t too old to forget. Durgesh inaugurated your sister. She celebrated inaugural honeymoon with Durgesh for complete one year. In that inaugural party didn’t Durgesh fuck every beautiful Musalmān lady invited there? Didn’t he fuck your beautiful Musalmān houseladies too with immense fanfare openly? Even the videos were prepared of the entire celebration and released with great pride. ‘Durgesh inaugurates Al Sāmiyah Al Raħmān at her eighteenth birthday, the youngest family member of Al Raħmān Al Åbbās family’. What is secret there I say?”
Muħammad Raħmān watched his twenty-eight years old extremely beautiful wife with immense sarcasm.
“And what about your own younger sister’s birthday? Didn’t Durgesh Dad inaugurate your younger sister Al Saħar Al Åzīm too? Didn’t your Abbū Åzīm Sāħab himself arranged for her inaugural honeymoon with Durgesh Dad? If our family does something it’s wrong and if your family does the same thing it’s right?”
“Certainly not.” Nādirah Åzīm said coldly, “I couldn’t stop Abbū in Al Saħar’s event but did I let my Abbū to inaugurate myself? Did I too celebrate my inaugural honeymoon with your Durgesh Dad?”
Muħammad Raħmān could not answer it.*
His parents were going to a Halloween party at their friend’s house, and his Ammī had left early to help get set up.
They were apparently going her friend Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s from work, and my head immediately shot to images of Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān who came over almost every week and I knew pretty well.
This Nādirah Åzīm’s friend was an absolute bombshell.
She was in her 30s, but she was incredibly fit and she was one of the hottest Musalmān women I’d ever recently met.
I’d imagined fucking her many times over the course of our acquaintance, and every time I met her, she winked at me, seemingly knowing something I didn’t.
I walked upstairs to my room, trying to picture what slutty costume she’d be wearing for Halloween, dreaming about one day being able to hit that.
She was married, though.
“Too bad,” I thought to myself.
I was set for a pretty interesting day with Nādirah Åzīm’s beautiful Musalmān lady friends, and reserved myself to messing around in my room, when after a few hours, I heard the phone ring.
I walked out of my room to get the phone, when the ringing stopped.
I stepped down the stairs and saw Muħammad Raħmān had answered it. I overheard what Muħammad Raħmān was saying.
“Are you sure you need me?” Muħammad Raħmān asked the voice on the phone, probably some work friend on the phone.
“Yeah, you’re right. That’s a pretty big account. We can’t afford to have anything happen. I’ll come down there tonight. Just let me get my things in order. I can be there in a few hours.” He continued, replying to a voice I couldn’t hear.
Apparently Muħammad Raħmān’s work needed him for something.
Muħammad Raħmān hung up the phone and turned around, seeing me on the staircase.
“Dad! There you are!” he said, walking toward me.
“What’s up, Muħammad Raħmān?” I asked, wondering what had happened.
“Oh, nothing. A client got cold feet and wants to be rewalked through everything. I have to go down to the property in Copperopolis. It’s a few hours away. I probably won’t be back until late tomorrow night.”
“Oh nonsense, really? That sucks… What about your party with Nādirah Åzīm?” I asked, wondering what he planned to do.
“Yeah, about that. I was gonna ask you if you’d go for me and tell your over ethical immensely conservative Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter in law, your Bahū Bégum, that claims she is too ethical to have sex even with you the supreme successful Sex Therapist nowadays. Haha. She is crazy. She thinks I really believe it. Even if she is really as foolish as she really never enjoy the unique sexual bliss only you can provide I don’t think you too are as a damn fool as to leave her without fucking until now. She is herself too beautiful to leave her without. Go fuck her and tell her I couldn’t come. I know she’ll just wanna leave if she has to be there by herself, but I could tell she was looking forward to it. Would you mind going there for me, and staying for a bit so she can enjoy herself? I know it’s Nādirah Åzīm’s friends and it’s kind of a drag, but you’d be doing me a huge favor.” Muħammad Raħmān explained.*
Asmā Salmān reached down and rubbed my Uncut Hindu Dick, “”Well the boys have all left for the airport to get back for their finals and the wedding party is either passed out drunk in their rooms or…:otherwise occupied. It’s just you me and Saåīdah Zāfar who’s over there, helping the DJ pack up. We have to get all the wedding gifts home.”
Asmā Salmān gestured to the mountainous stack of brightly wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes that overflowed the two gift tables we had set up.
I looked at the stack of presents and nodded.
“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll all fit in the Mercedes. Maybe we should have brought the Land Rover.”
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife refrained from saying I told you so, but isn’t quite able to keep the smug look off her face.
However, if we had brought the Land Rover, I would be sober, or we would be spending the night in the hotel, since she refuses to drive it.
“Saåīdah Zāfar, stop flirting with him, and get over here.”, I shouted across the room at my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter, who was still wearing her bridesmaid dress, making her look a lot older than her tender age of 18 years.
The dress was a bright crimson floor length gown, with a slit up the left leg that stopped just short of paradise.
The bodice was strapless, sleeveless with a deep V, and it squeezed and lifted making even the smallest bust look mouth watering.
The gown had rhinestones encircling the waist, creating the illusion of a belt.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, told me the dress was so tight none of the bridesmaids could wear even the skimpiest of thongs, without having unsightly lines ruining the look.
I was very excited about that, until I realized my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter would also be going commando.
When I first saw the dress, the bodice and upper part of the skirt looked to be painted on, and then it flared out big enough to hide a person underneath. It was so tight and form fitting, that I asked my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, if it was painted on.
“No, silly, it warps around the wearer and there are several bra type fasteners to hold it closed. When it’s not wrapped around a body, it opens to be the size of a blanket.
“Durgesh!” Saåīdah Zāfar cried in whiny teenage voice.
She handed the DJ a piece of paper.
She walked over to me.
Before she could voice her complaint to me about being embarrassed, I told her,
“Go to the front desk and ask them to send a couple of bellhops in here with a few luggage racks, then show them what to load.”
Turning to My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, I said, “Pull the car up the side door down the hall, so we don’t have to walk across the entire hotel. That should save time. Meanwhile I need to change.”
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, turned and left as I picked up my gym bag.
“Durgesh, why didn’t you tell me to bring a change of clothes?” Saåīdah Zāfar asked.
“Because I figured you’d be going home with the DJ.” I reply teasing her.
“Durgesh!” she said as I walked away laughing.
It was harder than I thought to get out of a tuxedo and into a pair of gym shorts and tee shirt when My Uncut Hindu Prick is rocking my world.
I finished the task, without setting any speed records, and then headed out to meet my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, to load the car.
Damn Al Muħammad Al Zāfar.
He left his wife and daughter to me because he had to attend a very important business meeting.
“But Zāfar,” I started to protest.
But he winked at me,
“You are my family Sex Therapist. Your Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān is your client. She is your responsibility now, not mine.”
I slapped him playfully.
As I walked by the bar, I stopped in and ordered three coffees to go.
It was already 1 a.m. and we had a two-hour drive home.
Moreover, I knew if my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter, or I fell asleep, my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, would be pissed.
If she fell asleep, we’d be dead.
When I arrived, there was already a huge pile of gifts to load.
“Thank God I played a lot a lot of Tetris” I joked to My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, as I began to carefully load the gifts to make sure nothing was damaged.
After almost 40 minutes of loading the car, all the gifts were packed in but only the driver and front passenger seat were left open.
One package was tall and long but thin, and it separated the driver and passenger seats leaving only a few inches open close to the roof.
“Good job genius, now we have two seats for three people.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, said condescendingly. “Where’s Saåīdah Zāfar going to sit?”
I stood up stretching my back and looked to see if there was any way to shift things around to free up just one more seat.
Throwing up my hands in despair, I told My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, “There’s no way to fit her in the car.”
“How about we tie some stuff to the roof?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, said.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know what’s in the boxes and I don’t want anything damaged before it’s unwrapped.”
One of the bellhops who had been helping,..
Well, truth be told he was staring at My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, and daughter, more than helping,
But I really couldn’t blame him.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, was still one sexy lady, especially for a mom of a 5 extremely beautiful daughters, the oldest being 25.
Hell she always is carded when her daughters go out for drinks.
And my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter, his beautiful daughter. She always was an attractive girl, but during her teen years, she blossomed into a real heartthrob.
She was 5’4” and I swore 3′ of that was legs.
She had an hourglass figure with 10 extra minutes just to make sure.
She had been asked several times to be a model by talent scouts, but she wanted to use her excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān brains, not her equally excellent beautiful Musalmān body.
During the planning for the wedding I overheard My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, told the dress maker her measurements, 36B-24-36, and I remember thinking My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter is built like a brick shit house, and was never ashamed.
Well, why the hell should I?
The truth was the truth after all.
Al Muħammad Al Zāfar was more an ultramodern Westerner than he was a Musalmān.
Damn the bastard.
Then I saw her in this dress.
I was jealous of every person who has to see my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter in this dress, because they could all imagine stripping it off her young sexy body and doing things to her no father should ever know about.
“What did you say?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, asked the bellboy bringing me out of my reverie.
“When my parents helped me move to college, he said, “we had a similar problem. There wasn’t enough room in the car for mom Dad and me. So I drove and mom rode on my father’s lap.”
“Wasn’t it weird to have your mom sit on your father’s lap when you were present and driving the car…?” Saåīdah Zāfar asked the young man, pausing for his name.
“Ħamīd”, he offered his hand smiling at her in a way that made me want to punch him in his face. “Not really, it was actually one of the best road trips I’ve ever taken. It brought mom and Dad closer than ever before.”
His smile was really beginning to creep me out, so I stepped in front of Saåīdah Zāfar and said,
“Well, that won’t work. My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, needs to drive, so she can’t sit on Saåīdah Zāfar’s lap.”
“Maybe Saåīdah Zāfar could drive and Your Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān could sit on your lap.”
“That would work, if Saåīdah Zāfar hadn’t failed her driving test four times.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, told Ħamīd.
“I guess there’s only one solution.” Ħamīd said.
Ħamīd probably wouldn’t have suggested it if his brain wasn’t being preserved in alcohol. “Missy…Mom…Ma’am …” Ħamīd must have been drunker than I thought.
He wasn’t even sure what to call my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife,
“Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān drives and Saåīdah Zāfar sits on my lap.” I completed his sentence furiously.
“EWWW Durgesh…” she cried at the suggestion.
“Look honey…” I started to say, wanting to get my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter away from the drunken leeches that were coming back from the local bars and leering at her, as they slowly walked into the hotel, but Ħamīd interrupted.
“Saåīdah Ma’am, I felt the same way. But by the time the ride was over, my mom and my father were closer than ever. They visit me at least once a week, and I look forward to their visits. I’m sure it’ll do the same thing for you and Durgesh Sir.”
“Fuck it, I’m tired and want to get this dress off and get to bed. Let’s go.” Saåīdah Zāfar shouted.
Ħamīd gave me another of his creepy smiles as I got into the passenger seat and patted my lap for my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter to join me.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, got in the car and started it up.
Looking over at her, I could barely see the top of her head over the package.
Once my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter was settled in my lap, I reached out to shut the door, and I heard Ħamīd said,
“Have fun, Sir.” and then winked at me.
“What the fuck, is he queer,” I wondered as I shut the door.
We drove off into the night as I struggled to get the seat belt over us.
I was having trouble because a pillow was stopping me from putting the tab into the buckle.
I was about to say something when I realized that the pillow was actually my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughters breast.
I froze in place not sure what to do.
Saåīdah Zāfar sat there not moving, as I let go of the seat belt realizing there was no way it would reach around two bodies.
Then the thought occurred to me that her knees must be pressed into the dashboard, so I reached under the seat to slide it back, forgetting about her dress.
All I found was a smooth soft supple leg as my hand got tangled in the material of the dress.
“Are you two okay over there?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, called out as we pulled onto the fairly empty interstate.
“Yeah Ammī, we’re fine.” Saåīdah Zāfar said with some amusement in her voice.
“How about you, honey, are you okay?” she asked me.
Saåīdah Zāfar twisted to look at me as I tried to formulate a reply and untangle my hand from her dress at the same time.
“I think Durgesh’s going nighty nice”, Saåīdah Zāfar said winking at me.
“He better not, we still have to unload the car when we get home, and you know Durgesh. Once asleep nothing will wake him up.”
“I’m awake,” I said, “just lost in thought.”
“If either of you need a break, let me know. And I can stop in a rest area. Otherwise I plan on driving straight through.” Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān said.
Suddenly the car swerved to avoid something in the road, and Saåīdah Zāfar in her silk dress was sliding all over my lap.
The friction of her young adult Musalmān body on that part of mine, had the expected results.
Saåīdah Zāfar started to rock her hips, to get back into a comfortable position, which increased the attention my trouser snake was paying to the situation.
I tried to shift my hips so her body wouldn’t be rubbing against me, which only caused more rubbing.
“Durgesh, what’s that, it wasn’t there before?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter asked.
“What’s what honey?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, asked.
“It’s nothing darling.”, I said not wanting My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, or daughter to know I was getting a hard on.
To My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, I said, “I had something in my pocket that was making Saåīdah Zāfar uncomfortable. If she lifts up off me for a second, I can fix it.
I wasn’t shocked at how tan and toned her thigh was, however.
I had enjoyed millions of them already, and still enjoying.
My Bhogchakr managed to produce always such conditions.
Holding herself up I could easily see the muscles in her leg supporting her.
That wasn’t what I needed to see at that time, it just encouraged me to grow some more.
Grateful for the way her gown draped over my lap, I slid my hands into my shorts and forced my swollen Uncut Hindu Dick to rest between my legs.
Before the adjustment was complete, one of her hands slipped and she collapsed onto me.
Her ass could feel my hand and her head whipped around to look at me realizing that the lump she felt was the one that was visiting her mother’s womb nowadays for her Sex Therapy.
“Umm Saåīdah Zāfar…” I said not sure what to say in this situation.
She quickly lifted herself up letting me free my hand, but my Uncut Hindu Dick was still pressing into her derriere.
Instead of trying to position herself for minimal contact, she seemed to be intentionally using her gorgeous Musalmān ass to encourage it to grow more.
What a family.
She too was enjoying it instead of being embarrassed.
She spread her legs even wider so I could see almost her entire leg.
My Uncut Hindu Dick was beginning to throb under her, and Saåīdah Zāfar gasped as it started to poke up into her soft round Musalmān globes of flesh.
Saåīdah Zāfar had been sitting mostly upright this whole time, but now that my Uncut Hindu Dick and her gorgeous Musalmān ass were getting so well acquainted, she leaned back against me, and at that Moment, I realized that the gown was not designed to protect modesty.
Looking down over her shoulder, I could clearly see the swell of her breasts and even part of her areola.
That was all it took.
My Uncut Hindu Dick sprang and became rather insistent that it be freed.
My hands involuntarily wrapped around her waist.
Saåīdah Zāfar smiled at her victory, took my right hand in hers and put it on her inner thigh under the gown.
When I felt the forbidden flesh, I bent my head down and took a deep breath of her sweet smelling hair as my Hindu male body began to react like a man’s body instead of a family friend’s.
My hand started to rub and caress her beautiful smooth Musalmān thigh, as my mouth found her neck and began to kiss it.
“Mmmm” she moaned as I lightly nipped her tender skin.
She offered no resistance so far, even though part of her brain was screaming that this is not something a family friend should be doing to his friend’s daughter, but a bigger part of her was saying shut the fuck up and see how far you can go with this sexy young adult Musalmān teenager.
My Hindu male body shuddered in pleasure.
Saåīdah Zāfar brought both her hands to her chest and began to squeeze her breasts.
I was encouraged by watching her.
I slid my hand up and found her pussy.
I was shocked it was so wet, and I started to caress it with my fingers.
“What feels nice?” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, asked.
“Durgesh is massaging me, and it feels wonderful. I don’t want him to stop.” Saåīdah Zāfar said as she took my other hand and placed it on her soft firm breast.
“You better give me a massage when we get home, buster, or you won’t be getting what you want.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, teased me as we continued down the interstate.
“I will honey. I will.” I replied as my hand freed my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter’s right tit from her gown.
I just sit there mesmerized at the view of her perky young Musalmān tit flesh.
“You guys know I’m here, right?” Saåīdah Zāfar said. “I really don’t want to know about your bedroom stuff. That’s gross.”
I chuckled as I began to rub her exposed nipple, and My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, replied “Oh grow up Saåīdah Zāfar! Sex between two people who love each other is natural and normal, as you’ll learn one day.”
“Oh, I’ve had sex Ammī.”, My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter announced, as she pulled down her top freeing her other breast for me to play with, “I just don’t want to picture you two fucking.”
I knew her well enough to tell she was shocked that Saåīdah Zāfar wasn’t a virgin, and she was going to let the subject drop for now.
She would wait until she was alone with Saåīdah Zāfar and not so tired and then there would be hell to pay.
I felt no such restraint.
“You’re not a Virgin?” I asked in shock as I slid a finger into her pussy.
I was feeling mixed emotions at the Moment,
I was upset that some dirty nasty boy had used My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter for his pleasure, but on the other hand, it meant that maybe, just maybe she wasn’t a cock tease and I just might get to fuck her.
“OH Durgesh be real. I haven’t been a virgin since 9th grade.”
My Uncut Hindu Cock leapt in joy on hearing these words, and I slipped two fingers into her pussy, feeling her juices begin to freely flow. “So you’re a little slut.” I said teasing her as I pinched one nipple and then the other.
I could feel the atmosphere in the car change with those words.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, got very tense and stopped speaking.
Saåīdah Zāfar had basically invited me to fuck her, and to let her know I accepted, I pushed a third finger into her folds and began to finger fuck her.
As we drove down the highway in silence, I kept fingering her and playing with her exposed tits.
I yanked my hands off my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter cautious that somehow she had seen what I was doing.
I was trying to form a reply but Saåīdah Zāfar beat me too it.
“The 18 wheeler next to us. He’s been pacing us for a few miles and it’s making me nervous.”
I looked out my window and sure enough, there’s a tractor-trailer right next to us.
I look up at the long bearded Musalmān driver who gave me a thumbs up and a big smile.
I realized he’s been watching my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter and I fool around.
“I think he noticed your daughter, especially the way the gown enhances her.” I said to my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān.
Saåīdah Zāfar blushed when she realized she’s not only exposed to me but to any other travelers on the road.
Hurriedly she covered her breasts and tried to push my hand out of her dripping wet Musalmān pussy.
“Fucking pervert.” My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, said and slammed on the brakes to let him pass us.
Then she moved behind the truck to protect her daughter’s modesty.
“I’m going to pull over at the next rest stop. Let him get a few miles ahead of us, and I need to use the restroom.”
“Okay dear.” I said, “I can stretch my legs.”
We pull into a rest area.
The truck side was packed full of big rigs, but the car area was empty.
No one was moving around.
We had the place to ourselves.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, parked the car and shut it off.
I pulled my hand out of my friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter and she adjusted her gown to hide her leg.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, walked over to our side of the car, opened the car door and helped Saåīdah Zāfar out.
I climbed out with a groan, not realizing how stiff my legs had gotten.
“I’m going to take a walk and work out the kinks in my legs” I said, my face reddening at my words.
I hoped it escaped notice since we had parked in a dark area of the rest area.
“I’ll walk with Durgesh.” Saåīdah Zāfar said taking my hand in hers.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān, nodded, turned and headed towards the bathrooms.
She looked at it gently stroking it and I leaned back letting her.
She kissed the tip, then took the whole thing into her young beautiful adult Musalmān mouth and began to give me one of the most erotic blowjobs I ever experienced recently.
She wasn’t all that talented, but being half in the bag, combined with the multiple taboos made it so much better.
My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter made up for in enthusiasm what she lacked in experience.
I was wrong.
It was stiff before, now it was hard.
I didn’t want to waste my load in her mouth.
I pulled myself out of her warm mouth and pulled her up.
Decades of pent up passion were focused in this kiss.
The duel our tongues fought made the sword fight between Inigo Montoya and the Dread Pirate Roberts look like a square dance.
Regrettably, I broke the kiss and spun Saåīdah Zāfar around, so she could lean up against the wall.
I squatted down and with my hands, I pulled open her dress at the split.
I, even the utmost experienced utmost successful Sex Therapist couldn’t deny it.
I couldn’t resist.
I buried my face in My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s daughter’s sopping wet Musalmān pussy and began to kiss it all over.
The clacking of heels on cement announced My friend, Muħammad Zāfar’s wife, Al Asmā Al Salmān Bhābhījān’s imminent arrival and our probable getting caught. But I just couldn’t stop now.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
I am not a sailor and I had never been more than a mile from shore in my life until my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s daughter, Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, said she wanted a month’s vacation on the Gulf of Mexico.
Now when it comes to my little princess, it is hard to say,
“NO I do not want to go”.
Muħammad Åbdullah allowed his wife, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb, to have sex with me, because he wasn’t interested in sex, at all, anymore.
I felt embarrassed in fucking a lady I called Bhābhījān sometimes.
“But I called her Bhābhījān.” I protested.
“What the hell difference does it make? You follow Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Don’t you?”
“Don’t try to take advantage of my Īmān, Muħammad Åbdullah.” I said somewhat angrily, “I’m not a Panjvaqtah Namāzī, I accept. Nevertheless, I have an ever-indomitable Īmān on the Kħātimul Rasal, Muħsin-e-insāniyat, Nabī Ākħiruzzamān, Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam. Nevertheless, he never had sex with any of his friend’s wife he used to call Bhābhījān.”
I had to surrender ultimately when Muħammad Åbdullah told me,
“Al Jāsiyah has consented not to have Kħul’å from me only if you consent to provide her as much sex as she needs.”
I twisted to Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān.
“Shut up,” Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān interrupted me, “You idiot, Am I not beautiful?”
“Of course, you are beautiful, Bhābhījān. You are extremely beautiful. But I never saw you with sexual intention in my mind.”
Al Jāsiyah Bhābhījān smiled.
“That’s why I call you an idiot, Durgesh. I never saw you platonically.”
I was stunned.
“You are the only man I loved sexually in my entire life. Not Muħammad Åbdullah.”
I was dumbfounded.
“And…and you never told me?”
“Nope!” she contradicted me vehemently, “I always told you. But you never believed me.”
“Bhābhījān, I always thought you were only kidding me.” I said quite offended.
Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān laughed sarcastically.
“I thought that was your madness for me. Once you’d have your honeymoon with me you’d forget me and would be ever loyal to my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah.”
Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān again laughed sarcastically.
“After our tremendous wild honeymoon for complete one year? Are you crazy?”
“You always tried to stop sex with me. Yet I never allowed doing it. Didn’t I?”
“You never loved Muħammad Åbdullah?” I asked her gravely.
“He is a damn fool.” Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān laughed open heartedly, “He married me even while I told him I love you and none else. He was too obsessed with my divine mesmerizing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty that he accepted to be cuckolded to us both and even to the extent that he cleaned me licking my sexual organs after I have sex with you. You think any sane Musalmān woman can love such an impotent ever?”
There was immense venom for Muħammad Åbdullah in her voice.
“You never understood why the hell Muħammad Åbdullah allowed his every beautiful Musalmān houselady to have sex with you. You thought he is making sacrifices for you. You idiot, he does nothing of the sort. Actually he is an obsessed voyeur that loves to watch your extremely experienced Uncut Hindu Cock visiting beautiful Musalmān Cunts and beautiful gorgeous female Musalmān ass. You think he is a man? How the hell he is?”
“Muħammad Åbdullah,” I twisted at him.
“She hates me intensely, Durgesh.” Muħammad Åbdullah said gravely, “I’m immensely grateful to you that you kept fucking her until now for me. Now please continue. For my sake. She never loved me. She is right. She has cuckolded me for both of you. Remember she uses me as her footstool even while you fuck her. Doesn’t she?”
“Divorce her, Muħammad Åbdullah.” I said gravely, “Be a man.”
“And what about Al Tawaħīd Al Islam? She is my daughter from Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb. Isn’t she?”
“Why the hell Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān allowed you to have sex with her if she never loved you?”
“Because I wanted a daughter from her. I told her if she didn’t give me a daughter of my own, I’d divorce her anyway.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe it.
Muħammad Åbdullah was too obsessed to divorce Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān ever.
He watched her having her shab-ůrosī and even her entire honeymoon with me.
She compelled him to take even the videos of our sexual intercourses everywhere in every possible and impossible sex positions.
Yet he threatened her to divorce?
And Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān surrendered?
“Surprised?” Muħammad Åbdullah smiled sarcastically, “Don’t. She is now obsessed with my licking her sexual organs after you fuck her. She can’t live now without my tongue into her Musalmān Cunt and Musalmān ass. She needs it now as much as she needs your unique infinitely experienced Uncut Hindu Cock there. She has led this abnormal life now so much that now it’s her normal lifestyle. She needs both of us for her healthy survival.”
However, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān wasn’t alone such an abnormal woman.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam was about to turn 19 and it was her last year before college.
I agreed with her as a birthday present to spend her vacation at sea.
She told me she would take care of everything and I should not worry about anything.
Of course, when it came time to pay, that was my job.
I did not question her choices on the subject.
She has a way of getting me to do things that I would never think of doing except for her.
When she bats her big sky blue eyes and pouts her bottom lip, as a stepdad and a man, no one could deny giving her the world.
About Al Tawaħīd Al Islam,
Let me say that as far as women go, she is above all of them in every manor one could list.
She is short in stature at just less than 5 feet in her bare feet.
If she kept her clothes on and was soaking wet she still would not weigh more than 100lbs. and most of that is in her tits, (32C cup) and ass, a perky little bubble below her tiny waist that would make an M&M candy melt without being your mouth.
Pixie blond hair just above her shoulders topping her off.
For the past few years, I found she was attracting the boys; some were older than she was and I had spent many days chasing them away.
She would always try to reassure me that “I am a good girl Durgesh, but then when the time is right, look out because I will be so good at being bad!” Those were her words not mine.
On her 18th birthday, I gave her some audio and video tapes from her mom, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān, as guide for her life.
Therefore, my life had been easier to deal with as well, but I never passed up spending time with my princess, not work, not golf or dating would come between her and me.
Our port of call was Tampa FL and when we went to board, I knew that she had a plan of some sort because of the crew.
We were informed; that we had a crew of seven sailors, two busty female stewards, a chef, plus Captain Al Rashīdah Al Waħīd would be at our command and only she and I as passengers on a 200ft yacht named “Down on Me II”.
One of the pretty stewards gave us a tour of the boat, and she then led us to our staterooms.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, told me to get ready for the sea life and she would meet me on deck in half an hour.
I dressed casual, went topside to the dining room, and had a drink waiting on my little girl so we could have diner.
She entered and when I saw, her, my mouth hit the table.
She had on a very elegant dress that one would expect to see at maybe the Oscars.
One of the Hollywood starlets would wear but she would have made them look shabby in comparison.
Her gown was shear in places, split in other places, and showed her body to be that of a woman on a mission.
Two of the sailors and both of the stewards were on a small stage playing music, very romantic music, as she walked across the room.
Out of nowhere, an older woman came and introduced herself as the chef and server, I had no idea she was even on board nor at that moment did I care.
She brought a bottle wine.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, said,
“Durgesh, would it be ok if I have some wine with you tonight?”
I replied “Princess, thank you for asking and yes if you drink in moderation you can drink anytime we are on the ship.”
I knew I couldn’t stop her from taking wine however.
She wasn’t my daughter exactly after all.
She loved her Ammī more.
Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān especially instructed Al Tawaħīd Al Islam.
“Take anything from Durgesh, but never his ethics. They are utopian. If I’d taken his ethics as well as tremendous sex from him, I would have died until now, celibate.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam smiled at me and confirmed her Ammī.
“Never worry, Ammī. I’m your daughter. And I’m proud of you. You never did anything wrong. Even in cuckolding Abbū. He loves cuckold life with you and Durgesh. He enjoys it. He hates to have sex as a man now ever, as much as Durgesh loves to have it, every time everywhere with every Musalmān Beauty Durgesh can manage to.”
She just smiled and nodded her pretty head as she sipped her wine.
The chef informed us of what our meal was to be for the evening and said if we would like anything, she could change the menu, but the menu was prepared in advance when Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, booked the ship, and of course, I said it would be fine.
This was to be Al Tawaħīd Al Islam’s last meal as a high School girl and at midnight; she would be 19 so she wanted to be tipsy when that day came as she had said on a few occasions.
While she sat looking so beautiful, I felt the love for her.
Even my heart began to ache thinking that she would soon be leaving me to find her way in life.
My heart was breaking and I felt a tear in welling up in my eyes.
I controlled myself immediately.
Stop being unduly sentimental.
I stood up, but before I stepped forward, she herself stood up too, and asked me,
“Durgesh, My dear, would you care to dance with a young lady that loves no man else more than you?”
“Yet you love your Ammī, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān, even more than me. Don’t you, you naughty girl?”
“Sure,” Al Tawaħīd Al Islam laughed proudly holding her head high, “Ammī is my ideal and ideal of millions of us young Musalmān ladies. She is an important executive in Cuckold your Musalmān husband Movement of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan the ultramodern Kħātūn-e-Jannat razī Allahu tåālā ånahā.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam smiled at me as she reached for my hand.
We danced as I held her we talked and laughed it was one of the greatest dances I can remember.
Holding her close and her perfume rose as if flowers were all around us and I pulled her closer.
My hand on her back was touching her smooth, silky skin and as I looked down into her blue eyes, I became aware of movement in my casual shorts I had on and suddenly I felt under-dressed.
It was as though I did not have enough material between this lovely creature and the devil growing down lower.
I started to put some space between my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s daughter, and my body but as I tried to move back, she held on even tighter.
There I was with a growing presence in my shorts and my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s daughter, holding on ever so close!
What was I doing!
Nevertheless, I was never ashamed of it.
Neither I was afraid of what Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, would think about me, getting an erection while dancing with her?
She would feel proud of herself instead that she could turn on even as experienced a man sexually as I was.
Was I a pervert?
I never thought of having sex with her.
Would she ever want to dance with me again?
She loved every moment of it.
The music stopped.
I sophisticatedly guided her back to our table.
As I sat down, I have to admit that I neither felt flushed nor embarrassed doing everything to keep from not looking at her.
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, made it simple by talking about the plans she had made.
She told me about what we would be doing when we made landfall around the Gulf.
The different cities and fairs she had heard of during her research for this trip.
I nodded my head and smiled gravely.
I had hoped sitting down would give my erection and my erotic thinking a break but it was no avail.
I was still erect.
For Al Tawaħīd Al Islam?
Anyone could satisfy its need.
Why Al Tawaħīd Al Islam alone?
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam said something and it caught me by surprise.
I had to ask her to repeat what she had just said.
“Durgesh, I know that you love me and you miss Ammī now. I understand it would have been better if Ammī had been with you instead of me. Yet I’m myself a young Musalmān lady now and it’s bad manners to keep reminding me that you aren’t comfortable with me. I want to help you move on from your Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān complex! That is why I have put Viagra into your food. I hope you will forgive me.”
My reply was shock at first.
Was she as crazy too as her Ammī, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān is?
In my food?
What the hell she is after, after all?
She kept talking.
I knew her intentions were meant to help but there would be little chance of fixing my loneliness on board the ship.
That is when she said,
“Remember the tapes Ammī gave me when she allowed me to come with you?”
“Yes darling, I don’t know what was on them but yes I remember.”
“Ammī told me that she knew you love her and that you would have trouble getting on with your routine life whenever she isn’t with you. And she wanted you to enjoy your time till you two would be together again.”
My Princess kept talking,
“Ammī made a lot of tapes with different topics on them and she left other things as well. She had a space set aside in the old barn that was for my private place to watch and listen to her so I could enjoy and laugh and whatever else I needed to do. She said that if I reached 19 and you had not moved on then she wanted me to help you return to your former ways. She taught me different things to help you and during this cruse, we are to do those things. Ammī said only if I wanted to, so I want you to know that what we do on this trip is my choice and of course you have to be willing to allow me to carry out Ammī’s wish list for you.”
I was shocked.
Yet I felt my friend, Muħammad Åbdullah’s wife, Al Jāsiyah Al Wahāb Bhābhījān, had more insight into me than I had ever thought possible.
It seemed she knew me better than even I knew myself.
I was immensely grave!
Al Tawaħīd Al Islam, came to my side, hugged me, and ran her tiny fingers through my hair to calm me.
She lifted my face to hers and then to my surprise, kissed me!
It was not a father daughter kiss.
It was an open mouth lover type, very soft and tender, yet passionate!
My head was spinning, not quite realizing the true meaning of all that she said.
It was not what I was expecting but I just held her and enjoyed the Moment.
I was Sixty-Seven now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the most prominent of them.
She was practically now my present Chief Wife.
There were millions of them with their beautiful Ammīs as well.
It wasn’t anything new now for me.
Even it wasn’t abnormal for me now.
It was absolutely normal for me.
I was the utmost admired utmost invited sex therapist now every educated family wants to inaugurate their daughters.
They were afraid of inexperienced invasion of their daughters causing some potential problem in future in their sexual and family life.
It was better to let the utmost successful utmost experienced Sex Therapist take their cherry for their potential inexperienced husband/lover.
Even their minimum one-year honeymoon with me, continued with their inauguration, was suggested now by their family medical experts.
It was not a marital honeymoon however.
It was an inaugural honeymoon instead medically necessary for their future happy life.
Sex with me was a medical necessity now to keep family life happy and vibrant.*
I knew very well however what the real necessity of it behind these entire medical iterations.
The true facts was the continuously increasing disinterest of the males in physical sex.
They wanted to hire me to provide the necessary sex to their womankind, they themselves neither had time nor interest in.
The matter-oriented life had tired most of them to keep pace with.
Nowadays even husbands were hiring me not even to provide optimum sex to their wives but even to impregnate them.
“Why do you want my son from your Bahū Bégum instead of your own son’s?” I asked gravely Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Shékħ himself.
“You know very well Durgesh, Muħammad Jahāngīr isn’t my own son. He is my wife, Asmā’s son from her previous marriage. After Farīdah Jalāl Shékħ I married Asmā you know.”
“Your Bahū Bégum is ready to have sex with me to get pregnant?”
“I haven’t another option.” Asmā Farħān smiled at me indignantly, “He is suffering from Aids.”
“What?” I kept myself forcibly from jumping.
Have I now even to impregnate Aids affected persons’ wives?
Family virtues are not in vogue now anymore?
The parents hire me to inaugurate their Just eighteen Just Adult daughters with one year inaugural honeymoon with entire expenses fully paid separately.
The husbands hire me to provide optimum sex to their beautiful wives so that they are busy not to interfere in their business.
The business is more important now than family virtues.
The in laws hire me to get their Bahū Bégum inseminated to have their grandson.
The son is not interested in having sex with their Bahū Bégum.
They are hiring me to keep their Bahū Bégum sexually satisfied.
Is it the twenty first century?
Sex is so insignificant now?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Ammī, you toooo?
I walked to the edge of the water then set Al Åārifah Al Aslam down,
“You don’t think I’d actually throw my own Bahū Bégum in the water, did you?” I asked with a wry grin.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam breathed a deep sigh of relief and then smiled at me,
“You should have,” she grinned as she pushed me into the water.
I bellowed as I tumbled in the water and surfaced quickly, a big grin on my face.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam shrieked again as I popped out of the pool and started to chase after her.
She ran around the backyard before I scooped her up into my arms and carried her over to the pool.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam gave me the puppy dog look as she squirmed in my arms,
“You wouldn’t throw your dear little Bahū Bégum in the pool, would you?”
“My dear Bahū Bégum? No. My hot young Bahū Bégum… yes.”
And with that, I jumped into the pool while still holding Al Åārifah Al Aslam, letting her go as we hit the water.
I laughed as I came up for air.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam surfaced a Moment later.
She wiped her hair from her face and giggled as she splashed me.
We both splashed and played in the pool before we wound up in the shallow end.
I sat on the steps as I pulled Al Åārifah Al Aslam on top of me.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam straddled me in the water as we caught our breath.
“So you think I’m hot, do you?” she smiled.
“I do. Not exactly breaking news.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam grinded against me as she leaned into me,
“Well, there aren’t exactly a lot of men breaking down my door,” she breathed.
“You have to take the padlock off the front door first, Åārifah Aslam,” I replied.
“Are you telling me you want me to do that?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
I didn’t break eye contact with Al Åārifah Al Aslam as she stayed on my lap,
Al Åārifah Al Aslam grinned widely,
“I didn’t think so.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned as she kissed me, I held her tightly and kissed her with heat and passion.
Her arms went around my neck as she grinded against my growing Hindu hard-on, our lips locked in a hot taboo embrace.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam and I kissed like teenagers as we pressed against each other in the pool, my tongue slipping inside Al Åārifah Al Aslam as I succumbed to my lust.
“Mmmmmm, Åārifah Aslam,” I moaned as I broke our kiss.
“Allah! Oh my God,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned, “That was so hot. I’ve wanted that for so long.”
“Me too,” I said.
We started to kiss again only to stop just as quickly, “what’s wrong?” I asked.
“I want this so bad, but I can’t. It’s wrong. I’m your Bahū Bégum,” she said.
“It’s ok, Åārifah Aslam, I too want this now. I too want you. You aren’t only that wants me.” I replied.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam extricated herself from me,
“It is wrong. We can’t do this,” she said as she pulled away from me and ran inside.
I watched Al Åārifah Al Aslam run inside and went after her.
I went upstairs and heard her crying in her room, “Åārifah Aslam?” I called as I knocked on the door.
“Not now Durgesh. It’s wrong, we can’t do this, I’m your Bahū Bégum,” she cried.
Durgesh turned the knob and went inside,
“We need to talk.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked at me,
“Durgesh! Please! I’m embarrassed enough!”
I walked over to the en suite bathroom to grab a towel and some tissues.
I came back into the bedroom, and wrapped the towel around Al Åārifah Al Aslam.
And handed her a tissue.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Åārifah Aslam,” I said as I sat down beside her.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam sighed deeply as she leaned against me, “I’m such a fool.”
I rubbed Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s arms through the towel, “Don’t be silly Åārifah Aslam, you’re perfect.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked at me and started to talk when I stopped her,
“Let me speak,” I said.
“A few weeks ago when I was fixing your laptop I found your online profile,” I started as Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s eyes bulged in surprise.
“It was wrong but I checked it out and I’ve checked your profile every day since. I checked it so often I had to get my own … and then I couldn’t help myself and started chatting with you online. I’m the one you’ve been talking to, Åārifah Aslam. So if there’s something wrong with you there’s something wrong with me and we can be wrong together,” I said.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was shocked as I revealed all,
“You mean…” she started.
“Yup,” I said. “We’ve been sharing our secrets, swapping pictures… nurturing our mutual desire.”
“You planned this?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
I shook my head,
“No. It just… happened. It was you. Deep down I guess I’ve always had you,” I said.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled for the first time,
“Me? So, you really want to…”
“I want to do whatever you want, Åārifah Aslam. But if you’re asking me what I really want, I want to fuck you, Al Åārifah Al Aslam.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s nipples instantly responded to my words,
“You want to fuck me?”
“Say it again,” she said.
“I want to fuck you, Åārifah Aslam,” I repeated.
“Again,” she said.
“I want to fuck you, Åārifah Aslam,” I smiled.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam grinned a lusty grin as she stood up and faced me.
She tossed her towel aside.
She reached behind her back and undid her top, letting it fall to the floor as her gorgeous breasts spilled free, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī female Musalmān lust and desire now fuelling her actions.
I stared at Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s chest in wonderment, not believing this was actually happening.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled as I gawked at her, “mmmmmm Åārifah Aslam wants to fuck her big boy…” she moaned.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam and I kissed on the bed.
And it turned her on even more.
I fell back on the bed.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam stayed on top of me as we kissed hungrily.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam broke the kiss and looked down at me, “Did you really mean all the things you wrote?” she asked.
“Every single thing.”
I nodded again,
“Of course, you think I have lots of dick pics sitting around?”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam giggled,
“No, but it looked too good to be true,” she said as she kissed softly down my body until she reached my swim trunks.
“Mmmmmm you weren’t lying,” she said as she licked her lips.
Her smile grew even larger when I groaned softly as she stroked my Hindu shaft.
I smiled as I looked at Al Åārifah Al Aslam,
“They really do, but what I really want to know is if Al Åārifah Al Aslam likes it.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam had a mischievous glint in her eye as she stroked me slowly once more before her red crimson Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips approached my Hindu shaft and sucked me into her warm wet mouth.
“Ooohhhhh fuck, yes, Åārifah Aslam.”
I watched as Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān head bobbed up and down my Uncut Hindu Cock as she expertly swallowed it, her lips gliding up and down my Hindu shaft.
My cock slipped from Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s mouth and she started to stroke me again,
“Does that answer your question?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled as she kissed and stroked my hard cock,
“Mmmm that will happen soon enough,” she teased.
The sound of Al Åārifah Al Aslam blowing me, while I moaned, filled the room and turned us both on.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam started to stroke my cock as she sucked on my balls, her hand moving up and down my wet cock.
“Tell Åārifah Aslam what you’d do to her…” she moaned.
I smiled as I moved my hips, thrusting slowly against Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s hand.
“I’m going to fuck you in every room of this house. I’m going to fuck you in my bed; I’m going to fuck you in this bed and fuck you better than Muħammad Ħabīb ever did. I’m going to fuck you while we eat breakfast, I’m going to bend you over the couch and fuck you in the family room. I’m going to fuck you in the shower, in the grass out back, on the washing machine and everywhere in between,” I continued.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned loudly as I went on and on all the places, I would fuck her, she took my Uncut Hindu Cock back in her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth as my shaft throbbed.
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm smiled at her daughter.
Despite her later thirties, she still didn’t understand what the present åālmīn, what the present day MULTIVERSE was.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was still living in her mental hypocritical universe.
No, it wasn’t.
Even the Christians were so, even the Jews were so, even the Pārsīs were so and even the Hindus were so.
“The Pseudo Musalmīn are actually a military power, Åārifah,” Al Navīdah Al Vasīm said fucking me vehemently, “Islamic State of Iraq and Syria is its worst product. When Yazīd malåūn revived the pre Islamic military power of Årab people, he deliberately did it to snatch away its spiritual power Ħuzūrs gave it. He deliberately snatched away its oxygen, Taħannus. If Taħannus were still an integral part of Islam, as it was in the days of Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam, Yazīd malåūn couldn’t have converted almost the entire Musalmīn into military power.”
“I can’t understand the reason you are preaching me true Islam, Ammī.” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said curtly, “If you think you can justify in this way what you are doing with my father in law, you are quite mistaken.”
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm smiled,
“That’s why there isn’t any problem that you fuck Durgesh.”
She laughed lightly.
“Previously I wondered, Ammī, why you extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies are crazy to invite other Musalmān houseladies who don’t fuck Durgesh, to fuck Durgesh either under this pretext or that.”
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm never lost her patience.
She always kept her mind cool when she argued about anything with someone.
She too laughed lightly.
“Now you are wiser?”
“You couldn’t control yourselves.” Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled contemptuously, “Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever lier, her ever Durgesh obsessed, young Musalmān lady brigade, spread the lie that Durgesh is the ever best sex specialist, he fucks best. You tried to experience it and lost your chastity, your sanctity, to Durgesh in the process, as well as your Īmān too.”
“Īmān?” her Ammī, Al Navīdah Al Vasīm laughed open heartedly fucking me more and more vehemently.
“Yes!” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said contemptuously, “Īmān. That’s more precious than anything is. As your passion to fuck Durgesh fulfilled, you foolish yet beautiful Musalmān houseladies realize what the utmost precious thing you have lost forever. Your conscience reproaches you. To compensate it, you want the rest of the beautiful Musalmān houseladies also fuck Durgesh themselves, so that you can explain to your conscience that it’s nothing abnormal at all. It’s absolutely normal.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam never even imagined then, what she was doing now, she would herself do some day.*
Al Åārifah Al Aslam hadn’t been this hot since she and Muħammad Ħabīb went to our last swingers party years ago and none of the cock’s she’d sucked over the years made her as hot as mine.
I grunted and groaned loudly as Al Åārifah Al Aslam continued her taboo assault on my Hindu shaft until I couldn’t help myself anymore.
“Here it comes,” I grunted through gritted teeth.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned as she sucked me, her eyes bulging when I finally released and came hard down her Musalmān throat.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam sucked harder on my sprouting Uncut Hindu Prick as my Hindu sperm coated her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue and throat.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned as she swallowed my Hindu load, she hadn’t swallowed with Muħammad Ħabīb even, but she just had to taste me.
Her beautiful Musalmān lady friends claimed it was the tastiest thing they swallowed ever.
She licked her lips as she lifted from my shaft, a long line of spit connected my Uncut Hindu Cock to her beautiful red crimson Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips and she eagerly kissed my Uncut Hindu Cock head to clean it up.
I smiled as I looked up at Al Åārifah Al Aslam,
Yes, it was a lie.
But Al Åārifah Al Aslam needed it.
And I never claimed to be Harishchandr, neither I ever wanted to be.
“Mmmm well Åārifah Aslam knows how to take care of her Hindu protector…”
I pulled Al Åārifah Al Aslam up to me and kissed her again.
We kissed hungrily on the bed as I rolled Al Åārifah Al Aslam onto her back.
She felt my hand snake down to her soaked bikini bottoms and slip under them.
I smiled when I felt how wet Al Åārifah Al Aslam was and Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned when I started to feel her up.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked at me,
I slowly undid her bikini bottoms and tossed them away,
“Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” I smirked.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam watched as I moved between her legs and spread them wide.
It was a long kiss itself.
I caused her to moan,
“Mmmm Allah, God, Durgesh, kiss Åārifah Aslam’s pussy…”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam started to pinch and play with her nipples as I kissed her there.
“Mmmm Master fucker Hindu, Åārifah Aslam is going to fuck you so good…,” she groaned.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
She never took the oath she promised her husband she would take if his Ammī, Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, would do the same first.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was never wrong in having faith in her husband.
I appreciated Al Faisal Al Qāsim that despite he believed his
How wrong Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was in understanding her own present society.
It wasn’t as Islamic as she thought it was.
As the other societies were, the present day Islamic Society was also a mixed society.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim was dumbfounded.
It was natural.
Who the hell could believe his own wife could betray him in such a way in front of his family?
He bravely challenged his Ammī to take the oath that Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm was lying.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās had smiled in her heart on the stupidity of her foolish son.
Al Faisal Al Qāsim had inherited the same stupidity from his father?
Well, let him.
Till the Musalmīn are as stupid as Al Faisal Al Qāsim and his father, Al Qāsim Al Åbbās, are, the evershrewd beautiful Musalmān houseladies, as Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, were, could easily keep on their false respect everywhere in the so called Islamic Society.
It never investigates the truth.
It always has faith in ostensibles.
Nevertheless, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm never believed it.
And why the hell shouldn’t he?
Should he love his wife even more than he loved his Ammī?
What did Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm want?
He should believe his wife, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, despite it would be the utter degradation and immense humiliation of his Ammī despite she met his challenge bravely and his wife didn’t?
He divorced Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
He had to.
It was his promise to Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās, his Ammī.
Jannat doesn’t lie below the feet of one’s wife.
It is below the feet of one’s Ammī only.
Yet, a Muslim couldn’t, and never shouldn’t sacrifice his Īmān for anything whatsoever it might be.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
She wanted to get rid of Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm.
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās was very proud of his family.
He wanted to keep it joint.
One of his brothers was still living with them.
She let him.
He and his wife both respected Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās very much.
Yet, she allowed the ever-stupid Al Farīd Al Åbbās and his wife to live with them.
Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās saw how shrewd her husband’s younger brother’s daughter, Al Åādilah Al Farīd Al Åbbās, was.
I obliged Shakīlah Qāsim Åbbās.
Despite the fact that she wasn’t a good woman, I fucked her.
I had to improve her now.
It was a great tragedy of almost entire women that when their son reached adulthood, they were afraid of their potential daughter in law.
They could never understand they had another role in their son’s life.
It was the only way to win her husband, Al Faisal Al Qāsim, back.
“Why didn’t you do it, you foolish girl?” I asked her fucking her girlfriends one by one.
Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm looked at me gravely,
“I would never take any advice from you. You want to fuck me too now.”
“You stupid girl, you didn’t leave any option for your excellent husband.”
“If he were actually excellent, he would never have divorced me.”
“Had not he warned you to divorce if you wouldn’t take the oath on Al Qur’an Al Karīm?”
“Sure, but I thought Tāī Ammī would never go to the extent.”
“She is a liar.”
“Yes, but she succeeded in proving herself innocent because you retreated from your jihad against her.”
“I’m not interested in any jihad against anyone.”
“That’s the worst decision you ever took suicidal to you.” One of her closest friends, Al Busharah Arraħmān, smiled straddling me, “My mother in law did the same trick with me…”
“I know,” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm interrupted Al Busharah Arraħmān, “You took the oath yourself too.”
“Why shouldn’t have I?” Al Busharah Arraħmān took my Penis between her forefinger and thumb, positioned it between her labial lips and thrust.
My Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund vanished into her twenty eight years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely in her very first shot.
“You cuckolded your husband, Al Busharah Arraħmān,” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm said scornfully, “I’d never.”
“That’s why you are divorced, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm,” Al Busharah Arraħmān laughed fucking me vigorously, “Isn’t it better to cuckold your ever stupid Musalmān husband, instead of being divorced by him?”
“I don’t think so.” Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm said curtly.
“Nothing can be done of you ever unrealistic foolishly moral Musalmān houseladies even if you are immensely beautiful.” Al Busharah Arraħmān looked gravely at her closest friend, “Your mother in law took false oath, and she has lost nothing. You foolishly didn’t take even the true oath and lost your husband forever. My mother in law took false oath that she never sent me in Durgesh’s bedroom where Durgesh was already fucking her friend, Annavīdah Al Vaqār…”
“Allah,” Al Busharah Arraħmān was dumbfounded, “Tāī Ammī sent me here to take her mobile,”
Annavīdah Al Vaqār smiled at Al Busharah Arraħmān.
She neither freezed nor was ashamed of herself even a bit.
“Take it, your Tāī Ammī deliberately left her mobile on that table.”*
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās was startled.
“Is your wife, my Ammī, is faithful to you?” Al Faisal Al Qāsim asked Al Qāsim Al Åbbās patiently, “Despite it, have you divorced her? No! My wife, Al Ħamd Assanā Al Karīm, is innocent. Yet, I’ve divorced her. Only because I’d promised to divorce her to my Ammī, your ever dominant wife on you.”
Al Qāsim Al Åbbās could never imagine his son would talk with him ever in this way.
“Never. That’s the point, instead. Ammī was enjoying very much what she was doing with you. She was humiliating you, degrading you. Yet, you have forgiven her. My wife never degraded me, never humiliated me, yet the entire family asked me to divorce her. Why?”
“Aren’t you too?”
“You doubt it, don’t you?”
“Who do you think my real father is? Durgesh himself?”
“Get out. Leave my house, at once!”
“Sure, that’s why I did what I did. I am leaving this house for ever. That’s why I paid my debt to my parents.”
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
“Durgesh never doubted that it was the very thing we ourselves wanted?”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn too smiled cunningly at her Musalmān husband.
“You have yourself watched the entire video in trimension, haven’t you? Decide yourself.”
“He still thinks our movement ‘Al Jihad fil Durgesh fī sabīlillah’ is only what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thinks it is?”
“Muħammad Kamāluddīn, You yourself have entered numerous affirmations and transmissions in between our videos and spread them everywhere as our porn videos. Haven’t we gotten positive results always?”
“Sure, if it weren’t so, we would have already abandoned this utopian scheme you Musalmān houseladies proposed.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always right, I told you.” Åāliyah Kamāluddīn said triumphantly enthusiastically, “Our code Mecca Fataħ has worked with Al Ghausiyah Al Imtiyāz and it’s still working with us. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said it starts the time cycle of Mecca Fataħ once we announce it with Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Cock inside us.”
“Is it too Bījāxar now?” Muħammad Kamāluddīn smiled triumphantly at his extremely beautiful wife.
“There, my dear husband, I’m sure, I can’t help you. I don’t know the Ultimate Science behind it they call Eīshān Vigyān.”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was still lying on her back.
Muħammad Kamāluddīn, her husband was between her legs.
He was eating her dazzling Musalmān Cunt.
Muħammad Kamāluddīn couldn’t deny since Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was fucking Durgesh, her already dazzling Musalmān beauty was becoming more and more dazzling.
He didn’t know his aids was being cured or not.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan advised him to lick his Musalmān houseladies’ Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunts and even their Musalmān ass after Durgesh fucked them.
“The entire Pseudo Musalmān terrorism is immensely against Islam, Muħammad Kamāluddīn.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had put her right palm on his head, “See yourself. Your entire mujāhidīn are now suffering from aids, cancer etc. ever incurable diseases. Only their own Musalmān houseladies can cure them if they fuck Durgesh and let them lick their orgasmic secretions from right their sexual organs.”*
I asked Al Jihad Al Vaqār again,
“What did Al Nādir Al Ghāzī do then?”
“He went down to Mexico and had a talk with a lawyer. The Mexican lawyer advised Al Nādir Al Ghāzī he could establish a residence by some sort of proxy. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī says the Mexican lawyer made it sound pretty good. He got a Mexican divorce and we married afterwards in Mexico. We followed a procedure worked out by the Mexican lawyer. She seemed not only to know her business but also she was the best in this game.”
“What else is it?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār asked me contemptuously, “They have made marriage difficult and Live in Relationship easy. The damn fools are harming the very society they are there to protect.”
I agreed with her.
Since Friedrich Engels had written ‘The Origin of Family Private Property and the State’, the shallow thinkers were crazy to destroy family to destroy Private Property.
They forget that Communism has failed miserably politically everywhere only within Seventy-Two years of its coming into power.
In the ever-erroneous enthusiasm of destroying Private Property, Friedrich Engels had sown the seeds of destruction of family.
Friedrich Engels never understood the unique and irreplaceable function of family in human life.
Friedrich Engels’ theory that the humankind must destroy family to destroy Private Property to get rid of Corruption was only theory when it was proposed in 1884 AD.
It wasn’t practiced until then anywhere.
The people of the entire globe then, were so fed up of corruption dominant then everywhere that they agreed even to destroy the family to get rid of corruption.
However, it was the blunder actually they committed to get rid of their mistake.
They never realized it then and a lot of people don’t realize it even now, after more than a century even.
I asked gravely.
“And then what happened?”
“Well,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is worried about Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. In his opinion, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has suddenly turned bitter.”
“That’s right. The damn fool still doesn’t understand there isn’t anything suddenly as far as Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is concerned. She never loved Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. She was after his money ab initio.”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is one of those self-deceiving men that love to live in dreams ever. They are always afraid of the cold and hard facts if they don’t support their ever utopian dreams.”
“But it’s immensely harmful to them, Durgesh.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār shuddered.
“I agree with you. Yet, most of us mankind are crazy to get feminine appreciation.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled cunningly.
“Are you telling me? We womankind understand it very well and immensely use it to get what we want from mankind.”
“The stupids like Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never understand it. Moreover, if even they realize it ever, they adamantly refuse to accept it. They deliberately deceive themselves that even if it’s right, they are an exception.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was horrified.
“Allah, you understand it too, Durgesh? Now, I think I know why no woman could dominate you ever. You, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, you are the ever greatest psychologist I’ve ever met in my life.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched me scrutinizing.
Yet, she continued to say,
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb wants a property settlement. She wants things that would completely ruin Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.”
“That’s what Al Nādir Al Ghāzī should have thought of before marrying her.” I said curtly, “The women like Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb have always done the same things to their foolish husband in the entire history. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never took any lesson from history.”
“He thinks the money is everything. He never cared what a woman can do if he can have someone to defeat her with the power of his money.”
“That’s why Al Nādir Al Ghāzī gave Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb his mine in New Mexico and his media empire in Ved Nagar to you?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
“What do you think?”
“What do you want from me?”
“The media empire Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has given to me is still not completely transferred to my name legally. The process is taking more time than I’d anticipated.”
“I want you to expedite the process and protect my interests in the meantime.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled at me seductively, “I’m one of your countless Musalmān lady friends that enjoy even the ultimate intimacy with you. Even if I’m not your Live in Relationship partner in your opinion…”
“That doesn’t make any difference. You said I’ve impregnated you,”
“There,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said gravely, “You promised me he’d be my son.”
“I won’t snatch away him from you ever, never worry. I’ve never snatched away any son of mine from his mother whether she lives with me, single, or with her duly married husband. Countless husbands think they have fathered their son from their duly married wives while actually I’ve fathered them. I never broke their illusion.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār put her arms around my neck.
Then she kissed me full on my lips.
“You don’t know what you’ve given to me. I can lick your feet for that proudly forever.”
“Nonsense, we are friends as you say, and friends are equal.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār pushed me back.
I managed to fall on my back safely.
Immensely indebted, Al Jihad Al Vaqār undressed me herself.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has married again. He thinks Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb would never destroy him. I would never destroy him. He never imposed himself on either of us. He’d never be deceived. I hoped his Mexican divorce with Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb would be good. I wanted to find out something about it.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār undressed herself too.
“I’ll look into his Mexican divorce. Where is Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s first wife?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār straddled me.
She positioned my Uncut Hindu Cock between her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān labial lips and smiled at me mischievously.
“Want to fuck Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb too?”
“Why not? If she lets me.”
“She is here, in the city somewhere, but where? I don’t know. She telephoned Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from a pay station.”
“Pay station? Not from her mobile even?”
“She isn’t a fool enough to give Al Nādir Al Ghāzī any clue to her address.”
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has a lawyer?”
“She says she’s going to handle the property settlement by herself.”
“Doesn’t want to pay a lawyer’s fee?” I smiled.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was waiting for me to lift my waist up and enter her.
I myself was enjoying the game of mutual teasing now.
“No,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said having my Uncut Hindu Cock between her labial lips only, not even rubbing it there, “she’s smarter than any two lawyers in the country. Present company excepted, of course. The Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bitch is damned clever. She was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s secretary before he married her. Moreover, believe me, my dear Hindu ‘husband’ of mine, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is one of those extraordinary actually smart women that certainly know their way around when it comes to business—an actually smart woman.”
“I see. By the way, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s present wife—was she down at your office last night?”
“I thought I saw a light up there,” I informed her gravely, “I was looking out of the window.”*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār pushed herself on my rock hard Uncut Hindu Cock.
It entered her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt.
“I noticed light striking the upper landing of the fire escape. Your office is directly above mine.”
“That’s right.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “However, that isn’t anything unusual. My office is a media empire office. It’s open twenty four hours.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was engrossed in the document.
I advanced to the secretaire.
“I have perused the entire document once again, Durgesh.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī said gravely.
“I’ve too,” I said, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī hasn’t actually given his media empire to Al Jihad Al Vaqār. He has actually played a very clever game. He knew he couldn’t do what is required there. He got rid of it.”
“And challenged us in a way to do something to save it for Al Jihad Al Vaqār. He thinks even we can’t do anything.”
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb knows it?”
“I don’t think so. If she had she wouldn’t have playing the game she is playing now.”
“I love challenges, Al Hudā,”
“Are you telling me?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled, “I understand you now more. You never unsucceeded.”
“Until now,” I corrected her.
“Perhaps I have more faith in you than even you do have in yourself. We’ll again succeed, inshā’Allāh. I refuse to accept your correction.”
I hugged her, kissed and circled my arm around her slim waist.
“Thanks for boosting my morale.”
“You never did for yourself. You always did it for us Musalmān womankind. Didn’t you?”
I smiled patiently.
“Don’t get me wrong, Al Hudā. Womankind, yes. Yet, not always for Musalmān womankind only. I had to do it for my Brāhmañ wives too. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never cares to refer it in her speeches and talks. She tactically ignores it, to imply that I love you Musalmān Beauties only exclusively. Yet, it isn’t a fact, to be true exactly.”
“Nevertheless, mostly for us Musalmān Beauties, if not exclusively?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled looking at me anticipating my response in the affirmative.
“My Brāhmañ in laws are not as bad as my Musalmān in laws. The Brāhmañs were never militarized as Yazīd Malåūn and his bandit Mullahs and Maulavīs militarized the entire Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“The Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs are luckier than us. Yet, how is it possible that Brāhmañs were never militarized if Lord Bhagvān Parashu Rām did his famous military campaigns against the Xatriýs, the descendants of the Bachhalyās twenty one times in twenty one Kalps, eras?”
“You are right. Sorry I forgot that.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
“You accept your mistakes immediately, don’t you?”
“The sooner we accept our mistake the sooner we are improved.”
“I’d try to remember it. I never admit I’m mistaken if I can manage it ever.”
“That’s nothing individual. Most of the humankind do it and delay their progress in evolution.”
I walked toward the elaborately carved French armchair resting next to the Noor Jahān fruitwood game table.
I settled in the armchair.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched me admiringly yet with a concern somewhat.
She didn’t try to come to me and sit on my lap as she always did.
“Worrying?” I smiled.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is playing some deep game we don’t even have any suspicion of,”
“I never doubt your competence. Nevertheless, I’m not as optimistic of human beings as you are, Durgesh. Not even Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle is. He too criticizes you ruthlessly when he is filled against you to the brim,”
“I respect him.”
“You both have more faith in each other than in yourselves. The more Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle criticizes you openly for your ever impractical utopian humanity, the more his faith in you and your immense humanity increases.”
“He is an angel humanified.”
“Allah, you and your appreciation of him. No doubt Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Nafīsah Salmān Kħālājān can’t bear it ever.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī immediately entered in the subject.
“His Abbū was very much cautious when he instructed me to prepare the testament. He wanted you but you were too busy in defending the life of some framed ones that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s Abbū himself couldn’t insist on you any more. He had to compromise on me on your assurance that you promise to guide me always if there come any circumstances that would obstacle the fulfillment of his wishes.”
I didn’t say anything.
She was only forewording what I wanted to discuss with her.
Originally, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was one of my countless Salhajs, the countless Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives of the brothers of my Musalmān Live in Relationship partners.
Like most of them, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī didn’t have any complaints against her husband.
Yet, our companionship of most hours did not let her not to notice the unique attributes I had more than his own husband.
She fought her best not to fall in love with me as the other women did.
Nevertheless, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī couldn’t succeed.
She confided with her husband.
“I have to confess you something, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad.”
“I think I know,”
“I’m not blind, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.”
“Sorry, Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad. I failed to be your ever faithful wife.”
“I don’t think so,”
“If you were not faithful to me, you could have surrendered to your heart and emotions already before discussing it with me. I don’t blame you.”
“Al Yåqūb Al Saiyad,”
“That’s what I said when we decided to come here.”
“Sorry, I thought Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī were feeling herself lonely and I hadn’t any confidence on Kħadījah Muħammad.”
“Do you want divorce?”
“That’s the problem I want to discuss with you.”
“What do you propose about our daughters? Sorry, even if I prepare myself to separate from you, I am unable to imagine even how I can live without my children.”
“That’s the problem with me too.”
“Our eldest daughter is only ten years old now. The second one seven, the third is five, the fourth is two years only. She needs you very much.”
“They all need me. I can’t do anything irresponsible ever that affects their development adversely. They need both the mother and father for their proper psychological development.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī controlled herself ultimately.
“Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, left him the bulk of his estate. He provided a trust for his daughters, granddaughters and his entire Musalmān houseladies related to him in any way. He gave the title to one of his seven hundred eighty six homes in various Islamic and other countries, to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s stepmother, Al Saåādat Al Mujāhid. Of his public holdings, the real estate wonder owned half the stock that he passed to his son, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Al Saåādat Al Mujāhid, of course, owned the other half always.”
I didn’t say anything.
I let Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī brief me.
I didn’t tell her that I myself had perused the entire document carefully before starting to discuss it with her.
I wanted to listen to her own version of the gist of the testament.
The second opinion always eliminated most of the possibilities of the individual mistakes.
That’s why the Democracy is always preferred on Autocracy.
No dictatorship ever as succeeded in the entire history of humankind as Democracy.
That’s why India has such a long history successfully while the other cultures have kept to rise and collapse in their due course.
India is famous for its Gañs, democratic states, Panchāyats.
The Rudrgañ even in the ancient times.
Islam, the last version of Vedic Monotheist Hinduism, is also famous for its Saħābiyāt, Saħābah and the fact that Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam never announced his replacement in the administration.
The Ummat-e-Muslimah decided her leader, Siddīq-e-Åāzam razī Allāhu Tålā ånahu.
“The other seven hundred eighty five homes went to Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s sisters, daughters and his other Musalmān houseladies. There were some token bequests. Mainly, minor shares in the TV channels, magazines and syndicate—to some of the old timers who have been in his employ for years. A dozen bequests to various distant relatives.”
“Yet, the rest to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.” I smiled, “The ranches—”
“Just about everything is Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s. The mines in Ved Nagar, Utah and Nevada. Oil wells in Rajasthan India, in Oklahoma and Texas. The chain of markets in Ved Nagar. The Ved Nagar real estate. The Ved Nagar merchant ships. The art works, except for a few he left to the Ved Nagar Museum.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī chuckled mischievously.
“Why the chuckle?” I myself smiled impishly.
“Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled naughtily, “Even Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, the Real Estate Wonder, could not mention her in his will.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sat back in the green swivel chair and contemplated her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, across her favorite desk.
Her Abbū had a dream to be the Mustafa Kemal Atatürk of entire Islamic World.
But whereas Mustafa Kemal Atatürk was practical, her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was utopian more than practical.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan could not understand that the Musalmīn were never democratic practically except when Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam and Kħulfa-e-Rāshidīn were alive.
Maybe Abū Sufyān had embraced Islam ultimately sincerely after the victory of Mecca.
Yet, his ‘crown prince’, his Walī Åhad, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah bin Abū Sufyān, never forgot he was the crown prince of Mecca before Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam conquered Mecca.
He was never democratic, nor as sincere to Islam as Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd, Saifullah, razī Allāhu Tålā ånahu.
Her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was almost always in a state of high enthusiasm.
He had congratulated his daughter profusely, abundantly.
She had fulfilled his dream in Saudi Arabia.
Even her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, had ignored that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had revenged her for betraying her father.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never listened to her Ammī.
Nafīsah Salmān always tried to explain to her daughter,
“Your Abbū is a bloody terrorist. He is a munāfiq, a Pseudo Musalmān. I punished him for his munāfiqat, his pseudo Īmān.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed sarcastically.
“And I punished you for your insincerity to my Abbū as his wife. I can please Durgesh more, sexually, than you can. I’ve successfully replaced you in his life.”
“Because you are thirty two years younger than Durgesh?” Nafīsah Salmān, her Ammī, had smiled cunningly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan realized once again she owed her cunningness to her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, she detested so much.
Her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, wasn’t cunning at all.
He was a utopian idealist Musalmān.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s utmost close sister.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was happy that Tawaħīd Bājī was too not less cunning than herself or their Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān.
What a great Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, had.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan could not deny her own immense Musalmān beauty was due to her Ammī’s incredible eternal Musalmān beauty.
Nafīsah Salmān knew very well how to maintain her magical magnificent figure.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had congratulated her younger sister too.
She had happily recounted the details of her airplane trip down from Ved Nagar, accompanied by the Secret Service commando who had shown at Ålīgarh Muslim University a week ago.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had reported proudly that every passenger aboard was absorbed in a newspaper or weekly magazine filled with pictures of Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had recounted the excitement of her ride in the President House limousine too, of the photographers who had surrounded her outside the Al Ajm lobby, of her rescue.
Momentarily muted by her first visit to the Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Office, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had then wanted to know everything about it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan happily led her Tawaħīd Bājī on a tour of the Presidential House, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Manzil, pointing out the historical curiosities about which Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had learned and dreamed of ever since she understood why Durgesh was so loved and so admired by even his enemies.
Even Durgesh’s enemies wanted to be what Durgesh was today.
Yet they only wanted to be Durgesh.
It was their fantasy only.
They only fantasized to be Durgesh.
They never were serious about it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was serious about it.
She studied gravely, deeply, profoundly, what Durgesh always cared for and his opponents never did, even though they were always jealous of Durgesh.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan always watched Durgesh fucking her eternally beautiful Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān.
She wanted to know what her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, lacked and Durgesh doesn’t that her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, left her Abbū for Durgesh.
She found Durgesh loved animal wild sex similarly as her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, did.
Her Abbū hated animal wild sex.
It was the first reason her eternally beautiful Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, preferred Durgesh on her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
When having sex with each other, her eternally beautiful Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, and Durgesh, both were not even human.
They were entirely unashamed beasts, surrendered to their ever wild animal lust, without caring anything else whatsoever.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan could not believe her otherwise ever sophisticated Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, was so horniest the female beast.
Durgesh was so horniest male beast.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan decided to have Durgesh for herself too.
Yes, Durgesh was thirty two years elder to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were also even far more elder than Ummil Mominīn, Ħazrat Åāyeshah Siddīqah, razī Allāhu Tålā ånahā.
She was surprised by my firm tone, but always welcomed our conversations.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, we need to talk!”
For over ten year now it was just Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, her fifty five years old Hindu friend of her husband, Durgesh, and her nineteen-year old daughter Sādiyah Raħīm.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was near forty now, a homebody, and still in pleasing shape.
Her tresses were raven black, only her hair-dresser knew for sure… Her ample bosom hadn’t sagged even a little.
Even forty years couldn’t do that.
Her skin showed no signs of age.
She could still turn heads if she wanted to.
I had not seen my friend’s wife, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, in anything form-flattering since the old man, my friend, Muħammad Raħīm, was around.
At home she always wore a bra under her frumpy, baggy sweats.
Mostly green, or on a daring day, for her, I sometimes caught a glimpse of a black strap and once even, a red bra.
Though I thought that might have been Sādiyah Raħīm’s on a laundry day.
An occasional glimpse of the beautiful Musalmān cleavage showed the wear of four decades on a full exquisite female Musalmān figure.
Her chest never revealed even some wrinkles and the natural effects of gravity on a well-endowed Musalmān woman.
Her legs were nicely muscled, as she had never been taught to drive, so biking and walking had served her well.
And either by design or comfort, she often wore very skimpy, tight shorts in her garden or for her daily runs or rides.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn sometimes got wolf-calls and whistles from bold Hindus and she could truly catch my eye when she leaned over the handle bars and peddled swiftly.
The pumping motion often made me wish that her swaying Musalmān breasts would one day spill over the top of her almost transparent bra.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn had been a middle-management secretary back in the day.
Schlepping, filing and pleasing a typical ladder-climbing idiot of a boss.
She worked overtime and through lunch, and ordered her own flowers for “appreciation day.”
After closing a big deal, the boss would escort her to a hotel lounge for a single appletini and offer a snide jab that her career would advance quicker if she spent more time under my desk than in front of it.
The crude sexual remarks elicited only a smirk.
She sometimes daydreamed that if my remarks were sincere or even clever, she would drag me into the elevator and up to one of the luxury suites on the upper floors.
She once joked that they could settle a sexual harassment suit out of court.
Her boss merely smiled, drained his glass and scanned the room for younger talent.
For the past ten years, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn had become a stay at home Ammī for her children.
She cooked, cleaned and cared for kids while nearly abandoning her own identity.
I was, beside the Mayor of Ved Nagar, a web designer and programmer.
I spent countless hours online and on porn sites to know how to make and use them positively.
I dreamed-up various positive scenarios on my laptop, with every fantasy woman from Xena to the Flying Nun.
After trolling internet spank-sites into the early morning, I would “run one off” and then hunker down for another day.
I had never been a jock.
Though my upscale, early life had afforded me rich-man privileges. I surfed the Pacific off the shore of their Malibu beach house.
I took riding lessons and belonged to a posh club.
This however was long ago.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn’s wealthy husband had left them with nothing but bills.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn won custody of a beachfront home they could not afford and platinum cards that served only as anchors.
In came the dot.com.
Boom and soon, my dexterity with a mouse came as a saving grace.
I was soon able to pay down the family debt and transfer Sādiyah Raħīm from a community college to a “big-name” Pac-10 school.
Their life was suddenly golden and the family adored me.
I was classically handsome in this “Hollywood” town.
With dark hair and warm black eyes I always got an offer or a look, every now and then.
When I sat my friend’s wife, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, down for our “talk”, I had already steeled my nerves with a little juice and had worked my diabolical scheme online for weeks.
In my mind, all my money went into this home and to Sādiyah Raħīm and Åāliyah Kamāluddīn.
I believed I could easily be on my own, living the high-life.
Instead, every day was a round-up of shopping-lists, utility bills, school work and more.
The beach-bunnies and bachelor-pad were nowhere to be found and it was time someone paid.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn,” I began, “it’s time for some changes. You and Sādiyah Raħīm have to start doing more around here.”
“Well of course Durgesh, you are the breadwinner and we would do anything to help out. What can I do for you, dear? Anything we can do to help, you just ask.” This was the only way Åāliyah Kamāluddīn knew how to answer.
She sat pleasantly on the couch, in shorts and a thin blouse.
Dark, full black locks framed her face and lay gently on her shoulders.
Her family was European Årabian and they all inherited the shiny, black hair and olive complexion.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn seldom wore makeup at home, and that only lipstick and liner to high-light her big, doey eyes.
She was content to remain invisible and anonymous.
Her hands were folded delicately in her lap, her long fingers intertwined.
Light-green shorts riding up her thighs and stretching tightly across her wide hips.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn’s tanned legs showed her toned calves and thick quads.
And her bare legs were crossed at the ankles with one canvas sandal precariously balanced on the toes of her right foot.
These Åāliyah Kamāluddīn-Durgesh talks always lifted her spirits.
She sat her teacup on the inlaid coffee table and scooted to the edge of the sofa.
She looked directly into my eyes.
It was good to see me taking charge of a situation and she was pleased to see me assert myself more.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn had taken on the role of the facilitator and always tried to ease family friction.
No sense beating around the bush.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, frankly I’m horny. I’m not getting enough sex in this home, and I want to make some changes, here.”
She was surprised at that, naturally.
And coming from her husband’s ever best friend, even if I was the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
She wasn’t sure what I was trying to say.
“Åāliyah Kamāluddīn,” I tried again, “I’m going to change the dynamics here.”
She was thoroughly confused, shifting her position, and taking on a look of concern.
She tried her best to discern my intent.
“Do you mean you need more privacy, or that you want to have more beautiful Musalmān girlfriends over? Would you like us to stay out of the way on certain nights? You want to have sex. That’s fine, you’re a Hindu, I understand.”
This just tended to infuriate me.
And now anger was increasing moreover.
“Yes, sex, that’s it. In this house. And whenever I want it. And it starts tonight!”
My face reddening as I rose and paced the room ominously.
My ego grew with each repressed desire.
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was flustered and not quite comprehending.
“Durgesh, it’s late, Sādiyah Raħīm’s staying with a friend and I can make myself scarce. Let me gather a few things and I’ll ride over to my friend, Lailā’s.”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn rose to leave and as she tried to pass, I grabbed her wrist and said,
“You don’t get it, do you? I want sex. I want it, now. And I want it from you.” I blurted it out and liked the way it sounded.
Then I roughly pulled her back onto the couch.
She was just catching up with my last words, ..
“I want it from you.”
Her beautiful dark, brown eyes grew wide. “Durgesh, are you crazy? I’m your friend’s wife, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, your Bhābhījān!”
Beads of sweat appeared at her temples and her heart-rate soared.
I sat on top of her to plant her in her place.
Her head started thrashing wildly, her ebon locks clinging to her face and loose strands flying in all directions.
Her strong gams kicked at me as her sandals flew across the living room.
Her grunts of exertion were working like a tonic on my conception of things and she felt my Hindu manhood begin to swell.
The thrill of the hunt was always better than the trophy!
I pushed her sweaty, disheveled excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body into the cushions and figured my next move.
It was now or never and I had already gone too far to stop.
Her protests increased verbally and physically as her resistance started.
Allah, Allah, Nooooooooooooooo!
Yes, she had lost her mind while flirting with Durgesh.
But not sex!
She teased Durgesh, seduced Durgesh, but it was only a tease.
She wasn’t prepared even to have sex with the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
She shrieked in my face and tried to heave me off her.
I was sitting on her belly, my left hand clasping both her wrists and my right hand violently yanking her shorts down her legs.
“You grab my Uncut Hindu Penis every now and then, don’t you? You play with it and suck it every night when you think it’s safe and I’m sound asleep. You even undress me yourself then, undress yourself too, straddle me and fuck me almost entire night. Don’t you?”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn was dumbfounded.
“You, you were never asleep? You, you were always wide-awake?”
“What do you think? Aren’t you one of the utmost beautiful Musalmān wives my Musalmān friends have and always crazy for me? You are already enjoying the ultimate pleasure with me, while I always suppress my feelings for you.”
“I, I’m sorry. I was fed up, frustrated actually.”
“What the hell do you mean, Åāliyah Kamāluddīn?”
“I needed such videos to show to my husband.”
I was startled.
“He always refuses me to straddle him. He doesn’t have sex with me properly. I boasted to him that even you let me straddle yourself. He didn’t believe and laughed at me.”
“Your ever righteous Musalmān friend challenged me to make our videos and show them to him, if you really allow me to straddle you.”
“And you did it? Are you crazy?”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn blazed at me suddenly,
“Shut up, you damn fool. Every Musalmān houselady that’s beautiful, is crazy for youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! Not me aloneeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”*
I watched her incredulously.
“So, you prepared our videos yourself and gave him?”
“It wasn’t necessary.” Åāliyah Kamāluddīn said disinterested, “I only had to agree. He himself made entire arrangements.”
“And do you know what he is doing with those videos of us? He is using them to make our adult movies. You are now a wonderful, one of the utmost successful porn stars, with me.”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn wasn’t startled.
She wasn’t dumbfounded.
Instead, she smiled cunningly.
“And my husband himself is doing it?”
“That’s what I wanted.” Åāliyah Kamāluddīn smiled triumphantly.
“I told him he is a pimp, not any sophisticated person. And now he himself has proved it.”
“Are you crazy? He is selling our porn videos.”
“He isn’t alone,”
“What do you mean?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has made Pseudo Musalmīn either to surrender to their cuckolding to their beautiful Musalmān womankind and you, or leave Modern Democratic Årabia and live the vagabond life of a refugee.”
“That’s the exact punishment the terrorists, criminal and criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn deserve. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has decided even not let them unite anywhere. Their unity has always proved harmful to humanity.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is right, but…”
Åāliyah Kamāluddīn mused.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always right.”
“Not always.” I said disapprovingly, “No one is always right except Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Allah, God. Åāliyah Kamāluddīn, you are a Musalmān lady. You can’t appreciate anyone beyond a limit. Alhamdulillah. Y’ ék ittamu sŧuhi. Mā chidanyasvishansat sakhāyo mā rishañyat.”*
Damn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan!
She has spread so many white lies about my unique legendary sexual prowess that almost entire Musalmān houseladies believed if they hadn’t have sex with me ever, they haven’t enjoyed even their life optimum as a woman.
My Uncut Hindu Penis wasn’t the biggest one, neither the monster as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever cunning, ever shrewdest, ever smart, ever preplanned untrue Young Musalmān lady Brigade spread the white lie everywhere.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I gritted my teeth, “Stop spreading white lies about my ever incredible unique legendary sexual prowess.”
“Am I harming you, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cooed straddling me aggressively as usual.
“Not me, and don’t try to bribe me by straddling me aggressively every when I want to talk with you on some grave matter.”
“It’s bribery?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked into my eyes seductively, “It isn’t my ever exclusive wifely love for my ever sexiest Hindu husband?”
“Why do you and your ever obedient Young Musalmān lady Brigade spread white lies about my Uncut Hindu Penis? You and your entire Young Musalmān lady Brigade know with your own constant experiences that I don’t have the biggest penis…”
“Who the hell is interested in the damn biggest penis? They want only to experience the thrill of having sex with the utmost sexiest Hindu.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,”
“A large number of them want to have only the ultimate intimacy with you, to feel the pride of it their entire life. They damn care about the truthfulness of the fantastic stories we spread of your ever miraculous sexual prowess. They live in dreams. They want to keep living in dreams. They never want to come out of it. That’s the tragedy of not only us womankind, but of us entire humankind as well.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is right, Durgesh.” Imāmzādi Ħumayrah Qāzī smiled gravely at me.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The June morning dawned bright and warm.
It was a beautiful day for a wedding.
I had set my alarm for 6 a.m.
My criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, was getting married today.
Despite Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s every effort, she could not make her ever-stupid son to see the changing environment of the globe.
He wasn’t ever a member of any terrorist group, nevertheless he never found anything irreligious in any of that anti justice anti human organizations.
Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī decided not to marry him ever until he isn’t human at least somewhat.
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s scheme again backfired.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār loved Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, as he was himself now.
“You do understand he can join any terrorist group anytime,” Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī told Al Jihad Al Vaqār curtly, “Don’t you?”
“I doubt it, Ammī.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār cooed, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī didn’t join them when it was easier for the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists to survive and succeed. Now, Narendr Modī is in power in India. Have you forgotten what Narendr Modī did in Gujarat with these bloody Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists?”*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled confidently.
The bloody Alkuffār.
Everyone is thinking Islam has lost forever.
Hindutv is in power now.
Not Narendr Modī.
No doubt, the Hindu scoundrel is lucky.
Every effort to kill Narendr Modī has backfired till now, without any exception.
There are millions of Musalmīn.
How many of them the Hindus can arrest?
How many of them the Hindus can hang till they don’t die?
He had proposed to kill Nawaz Sharif in India, at least, if not Narendr Modī.
However, none listened to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
They think Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is stupid.
Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun!
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī sat at the wheel of the marvelous green seat of his Station Wagon.
The Indian Mujahidin are too afraid of Narendr Modī.
They think he is immortal now.
Nonsense, no one is immortal.
Let Al Nādir Al Ghāzī kill the root, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, first.
It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever unashamed shameless Musalmān lady brigade that always protect Hindus.
They always betray Musalmīn.
The persons like Jāved Akħtar, Salīm, etcetera have surrendered to Hindus already.
It’s not important what they say.
They have to do it for their own survival.
Kalma-e-kufr is allowed in Islam to self survival if there isn’t another option.
Islam isn’t a dīn of stupidity, irrespective of what the foolish Al Kuffār say.*
I got out of the hotel bed, and walked into the bathroom to get showered before seven.
According to the plan of the bride and groom, each one would share a wedding day breakfast with the other’s parents.
In this case, it meant that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s bride-to-be, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, would be having breakfast, with me, in my hotel room, and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī would have breakfast with Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s parents, Al Jalāl Al Wahāb and Al Qahar Al Īmān.
I was grave for my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
He was marrying a great girl.
It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful from head to toe either.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was a 26 year old interior decorator who’d met Al Nādir Al Ghāzī through mutual friends.
The attraction was immediate and after 2 years of courtship, he’d asked her to be his wife.
I slipped on a pair of loose fitting sweats and a casual t-shirt.
A knock on the door announced that room service was there.
The bellhop wheeled a cart in filled with different covered trays.
Quickly and quietly the bellhop set the table up for two.
I paid him a tip and he left.
I lifted the lids of each dish and found Belgian waffles under one, strawberries under another, a bowl of whipped cream, scrambled eggs on a plate, and sausages under another.
A carafe of coffee and a bottle of orange juice completed the meal.
I imagined Al Jihad Al Vaqār wouldn’t be too hungry, as is, having wedding day jitters.
But just in case, I’d made sure I ordered a good breakfast.
Promptly at 7 a.m., there was a knock on my hotel room door.
I answered it and there stood my knockout beautiful, soon to be ‘daughter in law’, Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
“Good morning, dad,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said as she smiled, leaned in and kissed me on my cheek.
I invited her in and ushered her over to the table of waiting food.
I pulled her chair out for her as she sat down.
I took the chair across from her.
Like me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār was very casually dressed for this hour of the morning.
She wore a thick bathrobe under which she wore a short cream colored chemise with boy shorts.
“Would it bother you terribly if I took my robe off, dad?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār asked.
“Of course not Al Jihad Al Vaqār, get comfortable girl.” I replied.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār stood up and took the robe off.
She walked the robe over to the coat rack by the door and hung it there.
I was mesmerized as I watched her walk over to hang the robe up.
I’d never seen Al Jihad Al Vaqār in anything other than classy suits or blue jeans.
The chemise she wore was soft ivory and hung just below the cheeks of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Her legs were long and slender and she was very shapely.
When she turned and walked back towards the table, even I had to catch my breath.
The front of the chemise was cut low and rested on the top of her breasts that were full and filled out the front of the chemise.
I could actually see her beautiful nipples poking through the fabric.
She was one beautiful Musalmān woman I thought again.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled as she sat down across from me.
She enjoyed a good relationship with her soon to be father in law.
I’d made her feel like part of the family from the start.
I razzed her just as much as I did Al Nādir Al Ghāzī and my 3 other Musalmān stepsons.
She’d always admired me.
She also found me very attractive.
Even far more attractive, far more romantic and far sexier than her soon to be husband was.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was a handsome man, but he looked more like his mother than his father.
More feminine than masculine.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s hair was sandy brown like his mother’s, as well as having his mother’s green eyes.
My hair was a dark black, and I was not even starting to grey at my temples, as some men in my age did.
My eyes too were black and framed by spiky long lashes.
Even in my medium height, I stood a full 3 inches taller than my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
I stood up and started to remove the lids from the food.
“I didn’t know what you’d want, but I knew you liked Belgian waffles so I ordered them and all of this. I hope you’re hungry, young lady.” I smiled warmly at Al Jihad Al Vaqār. “Would you like me to make the bride a plate?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled back at me,
“Actually Dad, I am hungry, but my nerves are a little edgy. May we just sit and talk for a little bit before we eat? It will calm my nerves.”
“Sure hon'” I said, “C’mon, come sit on the bed and we’ll chat like friends.” I smiled.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār and I got comfortable on the bed.
I sat with my back against the headboard and Al Jihad Al Vaqār sat cross-legged in front of me.
“Is that better?” I asked.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed at my friendly remark and said,
“This is fine, dad.”
She sat there looking at me and couldn’t explain the weird feeling coming over her.
I was sitting there smiling at her and she had this unexplainable urge to kiss me.
How incredible it was.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad always said,
“No beautiful woman, irrespective of her age, can ever resist Durgesh’s infinite masculine charms. Durgesh complains that no woman let him continue ever a platonic relationship with her. But how the hell can anyone? Durgesh has infinite Bhogchakr.”
Is it true?
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed.
She never believed in the ever ridiculous Bhogchakr theory of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Musalmān lady brigade.
It was a nonsense.*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had parked his station wagon from the Iron Gate at the entrance of the massive Ashvinātam Masjid.
He kept an eye on the University young ladies and even mature Musalmān beautiful ladies going inside for Al Fajir mass.
It was the tenth and last day of their Ijlās.
If their quarry arrived today, as he had the previous nine mornings, the pattern was set.
They would place the dynamite in the tunnel beneath the street tonight.
They would detonate the explosives and assassinate their tremendously scorned enemy, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the founder of HLMCIC.
Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot International Clubs.
Let the ever-democratic scoundrel go to hell.
Even if they couldn’t kill Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan the so called Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated due to her immensely incredible black magic powers, they could kill at least her immensely respected Abbū, the devil incarnate,
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī peered at his wristwatch.
“You’d better go in now,” he said quietly to the young lady in the front seat beside him. “If the bastard is on schedule, he should be here in five minutes.”
“Do I have to?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled devilishly, “What purpose? He’d never get to the damn Masjid, Ashvinātam Masjid, hunh, tomorrow morning.”
“For positive identification,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled cunningly, “They want to fuck our muqaddas, pious, Pāk, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies. Let them. Who the hell are more pious than the Mujāhidāt themselves? Hindu scoundrels, fuck Mujāhidāt and be damned. Our Mujāhidāt would keep you busy 24×7 in sex with them. They’d give birth to your Hindu sons who would be the Mujāhidīn next generation, as we are.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan has planned to expose us to the true Musalmīn, as he calls them.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled sarcastically.
“True Musalmīn? Who support the ever coward Hindus?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled curtly.
“Now they are in power, don’t forget.”
“I won’t, ever,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said bitterly. “I want you to see him close up. We’ve got to be certain he is Al Saåīd Al Qādir, the deputy prime minister in charge of defense, and no other. Go ahead, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, it’s the last time.”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
They never said, “Allah Ħāfiz,”
They always said, ‘Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun’, instead.
It was their code somewhat even.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was nineteen only, while Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was twenty nine already.
“Fa qatulū almusharikīn,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said.
“Ħaysu wajadttumūhum.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī said.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī watched her leave the car, cross over, and reach the landing below the massive Masjid door.
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī fell in among other worshipers at the steps, climbing up and going inside the Masjid.*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār tried to dispel the thought from her mind, but it wouldn’t shake.
Even worse, her thoughts started getting more provocative about me.
I sat there a little thoughtful by the strange look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face.
One moment she’d been smiling at me and now she was sitting there staring at me with this peculiar look.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār, are you okay?” I said in a concerned voice.
As if in a daze, Al Jihad Al Vaqār got up on her knees and inched herself intimately close to me.
Without saying a word, she placed her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips on mine and tenderly kissed me.
Inhaling she could take in my masculine Hindu scent and her kiss became a little more searching as her tongue pried its way between my lips.
Now I fully understood the weird look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face, but what I didn’t understand was why in the hell was I returning her kiss?
She was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
Oh how her mouth was warm sweet though.
I sucked her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips in between mine while my hands began to explore what was under the chemise.
Right before my eyes, Al Jihad Al Vaqār raised the chemise above and over her head and threw it on the floor.
Her breasts were stunning.
My mouth watered just looking at them.
My hands reached out for them and I grasped and caressed them.
No words were spoken as passion overtook the both of us.
We both knew what our actions were leading up to, but as if possessed by a hunger we couldn’t explain we didn’t stop.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, only in her boy shorts straddled My lap and began to kiss me again.
Our kiss was hungry and passionate.
My cock was hard and I could feel it pressing against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s pussy.
I grabbed a hand full of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and pulled her even closer to me as we kissed.
Pushing myself away from the headboard, I laid Al Jihad Al Vaqār down in front of me.
Staring at her sexy body, I removed my t-shirt and stripped my sweats off.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was long, thick and very erect as my sweats came off.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār started to slide her boy shorts down, when I took over and slid them completely off for her.
Smiling at her, I bowed my head down and inhaled her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
It was warm and musky.
Easing myself down between her legs, I spread them apart.
Her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was beautifully shaven.
Wrapping my mouth fully over it, I kissed it passionately.
My lips ravaged her.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks bucked under me and her hands pressed my head deeper into her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Yes, Durgesh, kiss me, kiss me there.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār huskily whispered.
I drove Al Jihad Al Vaqār wild when I kissed across her clit.
I loved this.
At this moment, I did not care that Al Jihad Al Vaqār was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
She had chosen to allow me this privilege and I sure as hell wasn’t going to pass it up.
Let the anti-human Pseudo Musalmān terrorist suffer, even if he was my stepson.
Let him get punished.
I knew once with me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār would never return to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī completely.
She could never forget the immense sexual bliss she would get from me.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī couldn’t give its ten percent even.
Pressing my head hard against her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt herself about to cum.
Her orgasm overtook her and spread through her entire body.
I had already stopped doing what I was doing.
As her orgasm subsided, I kissed her clit once more and then got up on top of her.
Kneeing her legs open a bit more, I positioned my ultra-hard Uncut Hindu Cock and then drove it deep inside Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
Her excellent young Musalmān body bucked and we both moaned loudly.
With an ardent intensity, I began to work my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of her silky Musalmān pussy.
All the while, Al Jihad Al Vaqār moaned loudly and called out my name.
It was a good thing that her parent’s room, was on another floor of the hotel.
Anyone walking by the room would have clearly heard what was going on inside.
Her calling out my name only turned me on more and I worked my Uncut Hindu Cock even harder pounding into her.
Getting up on my knees, I flipped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs over my shoulders and proceeded to drive deeper and deeper into her tight Musalmān pussy.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, she felt so good to me.
I knew I could cum at any moment, but I wouldn’t allow myself as I suspected this moment could never happen again.
With that thought in mind, I gave it all I could working my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out, my balls slapping against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful Musalmān ass.
Grunting with each thrust, I watched the ecstasy etched all over Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful young Musalmān face.
I loved knowing I was the one giving her this pleasure.
As much as I detested my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, I wanted to make sure that nobody ever fucked Al Jihad Al Vaqār as well as I was at this moment.
I wanted her to remember this.
“Yes darling! Is this what you want?” I said out of breath.
“Allah, Måshā Allah, Subħān Allah, yes,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār breathlessly replied. “I want you to cum into me, dad, sorry, not dad now, Durgesh darling, my actual husband from now on!”
“That’s right. What the hell do you think? I want to cuckold your terrorist stepson to both of us. And Wallāh, I promise to do it. Let him clean my Musalmān Cunt licking it, after you fuck me.”
I didn’t say anything as to its response.
I dropped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs off of my shoulders and laid down on her.
Kissing her very lovingly, I rhythmically began to slide my Uncut Hindu Cock back and forth until I felt my orgasm began to build up and finally explode.
A loud guttural cry escaped from my lips as My body froze and I emptied my Hindu seed into Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s fertile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān womb.
“Thank you darlin'” I said, as I smiled and kissed Al Jihad Al Vaqār afterward. “You’re something else, you beautiful woman. My stepson is a lucky man.”
No more words were said as we got up, enjoyed a shower together and then ate breakfast leisurely.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār got dressed again, and slipped off to her room to prepare for her wedding day.
No one smiled more, at the wedding, than the bride and the father of the groom that day.
About a year later, I could only smile when people told me how much my 3 month old namesake grandson looked like me.
There would be more in the line.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muħammad pulled into the driveway and his eyes lit up.
His Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, were out!
As if Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah wasn’t Muħammad’s wife at all, his Hindu Dad’s, Durgesh, the sixty five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu’s wife herself instead.
Muħammad’s eyes were burning.
Durgesh was fucking Muħammad’s entire extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies and neither Muħammad could do anything, nor his otherwise astound father, Åbdullah.
Al Kħātūn Al Makkah Saiyadah Āmnah had cuckolded both of them successfully, eventually, ultimately.
Getting out of his car, Muħammad smiled in anticipation of what being home alone meant.
Entering the house, he grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and quickly made his way down the hallway.
Stepping into his room, Muħammad dropped his briefcase on the desk and downed half the coke.
He quickly stripped out of his suit and thought about taking a shower.
Figuring Muħammad had no idea when his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, had gone out and when they would be back, Muħammad skipped the shower for now and tossed on a pair of shorts and a Celtics t-shirt.
Closing his bedroom door, Muħammad all but ran down the corridor to his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh’s bedroom.
By the time Muħammad’s opened the door and entered the room, his cock was already semi hard.
He couldn’t do anything.
As Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam had, Muħammad too had married more than four Musalmān wives.
Instead, Muħammad had more than thirteen Musalmān wives even as Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam had.
Yet, Durgesh was fucking Muħammad’s entire extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Muħammad’s beautiful Musalmān wives were no exception at all.
Muħammad immediately went over to the corner and lifting up the lid of the hamper began rummaging around.
Muħammad felt like a kid on Eīdul Fitr morning when Muħammad pulled out a lacy purple thong.
He let the lid fall close, with no hesitation brought the crotch of the thong to his nose and inhaled deeply.
Muħammad released a long sigh that bordered on a moan at the delicious scent of his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s, now well fucked by Durgesh, extremely beautiful extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Keeping his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s lingerie pressed to his face, Muħammad walked over to the desk against the wall where their computer was set up.
Flopping down in the chair, Muħammad took another deep breath while Muħammad reached down and rubbed his aching cock through his shorts.
Lowering the thong, Muħammad started rubbing the silky material along his hands, imagining his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s soft wet extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot beneath it.
He couldn’t believe his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, was really his wife at all.
Durgesh was really fucking Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and Muħammad was only enjoying the aroma of her extremely beautiful extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Muħammad couldn’t celebrate his Shab-e-Urūsī even with any of his extremely beautiful wives.
Allah, damn the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Isn’t she the actual mastermind behind it all?
Establishing her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Muħammad couldn’t even run away.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was perhaps really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā.
She had chosen Muħammad to establish her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had smiled at him.
“Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were Rasūlullāh, you bear his great name. You are my Rasūl, Rasūlul Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā. Okay? You have to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah for me.”
“Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā,”
“Let me finish first, my child,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā raised her right hand to stop Muħammad in his midsentence.
That thought briefly cut into his lustful fantasies.
Muħammad had first started sniffing his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s panties a few years which was right about the time Muħammad’d begun noticing and thinking about girls and sex.
In the beginning, it was just about the idea of ‘this is what a woman smells like’.
Sniffing had turned to masturbating with them, but for some reason it was never with a visual off his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah.
Muħammad would think about Åāyeshah who used to live next door and who was a damn hot red head or some of the Musalmān girls in his University.
But seeing Muħammad couldn’t get a whiff of them, or get his hands on their panties, his own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s were therefore what Muħammad used.
Even when Muħammad started dating Muħammad would jerk off into her panties while wishing for that day Muħammad would be able to smell another Musalmān female’s scent and directly in his face rather than through clothing.
That happened a couple of years back, when after dating Zaynab for six months, her parents had gone away and her big sister gave her the green light to let Muħammad come over.
Once Muħammad’d gotten his first taste of her, Muħammad had stopped using his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s underwear as a masturbation enhancer because Muħammad’d stolen a couple of pairs of Zaynab’s.
Muħammad was sure she figured Muħammad took them, but never brought it up.
They broke up six months later, but in the time since Muħammad had been on a good swing and never remained single for more than a few weeks.
It helped that both his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, were good looking and Muħammad’d inherited a his Ammī’s features.
Muħammad had his father’s black hair, but his Ammī’s deep blue eyes and high cheekbones.
Between the cheek bones, his Abbū’s dimpled chin and Ammī’s smooth complexion and coupled with the fact his hair was always perfectly combed Muħammad had endured more than a few pretty boy jokes from other guys.
But those jokes were worth the success his looks and easy going personality brought Muħammad e with the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girls.
University provided even more opportunity to meet pretty Musalmān girls and for the last couple of years his fixation with the smell of his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot had been replaced with enjoying the real thing and Muħammad’d left it behind as one of those weird things horny kids did.
That was until last month when his laptop froze up and Muħammad needed to finish a project for University.
His Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, had told Muħammad to use their computer while Muħammad’s was getting fixed and that was when his obsession had not only returned, but progressed to the point Muħammad was now thinking more about what was in those panties.
Muħammad’d noticed their computer kept freezing and when Muħammad’d hit the keys to bring up the task manager saw that windows movie maker was running.
Muħammad closed out everything else and when Muħammad brought up movie maker saw there was a pop up asking if the project should be saved.
Muħammad’d done that many times himself, quickly clicked out of it or thought Muħammad had because Muħammad’d walk away not remembering it always asked.
Muħammad prepared to click yes figuring he didn’t want to lose anything of theirs.
Just before Muħammad hit the button Muħammad noticed the title of the project was “Want this?”
It struck Muħammad it could be something racy, but had a hard time believing his wife and Durgesh would film themselves.
Not that Muħammad didn’t think we had sex, we were always affectionate with each other and both looked damn good and worked hard at the gym to stay that way, but still…Looking over his shoulder as if Muħammad thought they would materialize behind him, Muħammad clicked play.
The screen filled with a view of the bed and Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, walking over to it.
She was wearing a short red robe and sitting on the edge of the bed, gave her long, dirty blond hair a toss.
“What is it honey?” she asked the camera with a big smile.
“Just wondering if you’re ready for bed.” Muħammad’s Hindu Dad, Durgesh’s deep voice came from behind the camera.
“For bed, sure,” her smile turned mischievous, “For sleep? Not yet.”
“Oh? You have something in mind?”
“Hmm-mm” she purred in a sexy voice that caused Muħammad’s cock to begin stirring. “I’m ready for some fun, you want to play?”
“Why don’t you show me what I’ll be playing with?”
“Yes sir,” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, pushed her full sensual lips into a pout, standing up, she pulled the robe open and let it fall to the floor.
When the robe hit the floor, Muħammad’s jaw had as well.
Although Muħammad’d seen Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, in a fairly revealing bikini many times, it had never dawned on him how damn hot she was.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, was tall and years of jogging had kept her long legs looking better than ever.
Her stomach was surprisingly flat.
Despite the fact she was on the slender side, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī heavy gorgeous glamorous big perfectly round firm Musalmān buttocks had enough curve to them to give her an exquisite excellent figure.
What really grabbed his attention were her bare Musalmān tits; they were big perfectly round and sitting high and firm.
The skin around her nipples was a deep red in color and the nipples themselves hard and pointing straight at the camera.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, cupped them, offering them to his Hindu father, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh, “Want these, father in law?”
“I do, Sālī, but what else you have?” I too smiled naughtily.
“I have it all!” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, laughed and sliding her hands down her stomach pulled the black thong she was wearing aside, flashing her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
By then Muħammad’s cock had been aching in his pants and Muħammad had begun to rub it as Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, let the thong fall back.
Allah, what a tragedy.
She was his own wife, yet she was pleasuring Durgesh always, never Muħammad.
Lifting her long hair up, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah turned around and shook her firm heart shaped heavy Musalmān ass at the camera.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, started to turn back around, but his Hindu Dad, Durgesh, called out,
“Take it off from there; show me that pretty extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot from behind.”
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, obediently hooked her fingers into the thong and sliding it down, bent over.
Muħammad’d stared mouth wide open as Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, exposed not only her gorgeous Musalmān ass, but her pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot winking out from between her well toned smooth Musalmān thighs.
The fact Muħammad was staring at his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot should have caused Muħammad to shut it off, but instead Muħammad began rubbing his cock harder and grinding his hips while Muħammad watched her turn back around and climb onto the bed.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, lay back on the pillows and crossing her long Musalmān legs at the ankles, asked,
“What do you want to see, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā?”
“You know what I want to see.”
“I don’t know…” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, made a show of rubbing her chin as if thinking it over.
“Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah?” I frowned as the camera moved closer to the bed, “Sālī, let me see that perfect extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.”
“What do I get out of it?” she asked, now fondling her tits. “You going to kiss it?”
“On that note.” Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, laughed and slowly opened her beautiful Musalmān legs.
Muħammad had been squeezing his cock as his hand moved up and down, jerking it through his jeans.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, reached down between her legs and as the camera zoomed in close, spread her pink lips open.
Using one slender red tipped finger she began sliding it through her soft wet folds and started teasing her clit.
“Come give me a kiss there, Anant Muslimātchod father in law Hindu Piyā.” She beckoned me with her other hand.
The camera moved as I, placed it on the bed and lying across Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s thigh he began Penising her clit so the camera could catch it.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, moaned and the sound sent a thrill through Muħammad.
Giving in, Muħammad had unsnapped his jeans and pulling his cock out stared to stroke it.
In front of Muħammad, I had slipped my Uncut Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot and was working it in and out.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s fingers were running through my hair and she was moaning, “Oh, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, that feels so fucking good! Your Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund is the ever best,”
Muħammad’d been pumping his cock hard and fast when Muħammad’d heard my limousine pull into the driveway.
Panicking, Muħammad’d zipped up and ran into his room where locking his door, Muħammad sat on the bed and masturbated furiously to the image of his Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s hairless pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Muħammad stroked it twice more that night and from then on whenever Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah and I went out at night, Muħammad would sneak into our room and check out our movies.
Watching desperately his own wife, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, fucking Durgesh, and Muħammad himself masturbating only.
And there were several of those movies of his wife with me.
If Muħammad thought the first one was hot, the next one featured Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, on her knees between my legs giving me a long slow excellent blowjob.
It was a little weird seeing my Uncut Hindu Lund, especially because it looked pretty damn big, but watching his own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, suck on it helped Muħammad quickly overcome his awkwardness.
He had perfect right.
Even his wife and Durgesh didn’t have any right at all.
It was a sin what Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, and Durgesh were doing, not what Muħammad was doing.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, was as good as any of the porn stars Muħammad’d seen, taking my Uncut Hindu Lund down to my Hindu balls easily and taking a good long time licking, teasing and sucking.
The entire time she was working my Uncut Hindu Lund with her amazing Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān mouth, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, had been moaning and her big blue Musalmān eyes were rolled back.
With his cut Musalmān nūnī in his hand, it occurred to Muħammad, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, loved to suck Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund immensely! Muħammad’d kept his stroking slow until the end of the video, when with a loud moan Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, began jerking my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It went on some time.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth and after taking the first spurt into it, turned her face side to side letting me splatter my cum all into her Musalmān mouth.
When I was done, Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, let the cum drool out of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth, back onto my Uncut Hindu Lund.
His own cut Musalmān nūnī exploded when Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, started licking my Uncut Hindu Lund clean.
The next video featured us going around the world, fucking in every position and each time we switched Muħammad swore Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, looked even hotter than in the one before.
By the fifth or sixth time Muħammad’d watched that video Muħammad was jerking off using Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s panties and admiring the way I, who was in damn excellent shape myself, fucked the shit out of Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah.
Now a month later, Muħammad was nothing short of obsessed.
When his folks were sitting on the couch watching TV Muħammad found himself imagining them having sex, I, just yanking Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’s skirt up and fucking her right over the couch.
It would get so bad Muħammad would have to excuse himself and go jerk off.
Worse was when Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, would get close to me.
Now when she hugged me Muħammad was painfully aware of her tits pressing against me and when she would give me a kiss on the cheek all Muħammad could imagine was how good those soft lips would feel pressed against something else.
Muħammad constantly undressed her with his eyes, or more accurately would envision her stripping for me.
Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, wore a short robe around the house in the summer and as she did in that first video Muħammad could see her untying it and letting it hit the floor.
She would hold up her perfect Musalmān tits and ask if Durgesh wanted them.
Thoughts like that were what concerned Muħammad.
His fantasies had gone from just thinking of his wife Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah and I fucking, to us fucking everywhere in public openly.
Not that the former was normal, but the latter was pretty sick.
Sick. That was the word that entered his mind enough to tell him Muħammad should stay away from our computer and try to stop thinking about it.
Muħammad’d been single for a couple of months now as his fantasies no longer seemed to revolve around pretty coeds, but the one woman in the world Muħammad shouldn’t be thinking about now, even if she was his duly married wife.
That was what Muħammad told himself on a daily basis.
But anytime Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife, Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah, walked by me wearing a pair of shorts or bent over to pick something up, his mind was filled with the videos; and if we weren’t home?
Muħammad would immediately be right where Muħammad was now. Sitting in our room and scoping our PC for new videos.
Muħammad noticed when Muħammad had first been looking there were only three, but after a couple of weeks, it seemed there was a new one every few days.
I had them under a folder marked, “projects” and had it pass word protected.
But I was predictable and used ‘Durgesh Al Kħadījah Umm Fātimah’ as my password for everything there.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was awakened when she heard me come in the house.
It was a little after two a.m. in the morning.
She guessed that I was still not exhausted from my night on the town with my extremely beautiful Musalmān lady friends.
What a man!
He fucked beautiful Musalmān ladies almost 24x7x365, yet he was never exhausted.
A sincere admiration for me, she felt rising inadvertently in her heart and mind.
So many Muslims thought this man was anti Muslim, but whenever they actually came in his contact, they never found anyone a better friend, philosopher and guide than Durgesh.
And that was what that really counts.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz heard me turn on the shower and the shower door close with a heavy thud.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz tried to go back to sleep but she couldn’t.
Durgesh was irresistible.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz listened to the shower running for a long time and she became concerned since Ghausiyah Imtiyāz didn’t hear any other sounds.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz got out of bed to go and make sure that everything was alright.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz tapped on the bathroom door several times but there was no response.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz tried the door.
It was unlocked.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz went in.
She could see me seated on the tile bench at the rear of the shower stall.
I was leaning against the wall.
I was either asleep or passed out.
The shower was spraying down on me.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t help but notice how handsome I was.
Still at my sixty five, my athletic Hindu male body was amazingly muscular.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz sucked in her breath as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz looked at my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund . Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was immediately embarrassed ─ as my Bahoo Bégum, my daughter in law, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz shouldn’t be looking, but Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t help it.
It was in a flaccid state lying over on my Hindu thigh yet it still looked to be at least eight inches long.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz never thought of it before.
Even when her husband, Muħammad Jalīl, Muħammad Zalīl actually, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz’s eyes burned contemptuously, divorced Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, Durgesh never told Ghausiyah Imtiyāz to leave his stepson’s house.
Instead, Durgesh fought her case in court and compelled Muħammad Jalīl legally to leave everything to Ghausiyah Imtiyāz and leave the house himself.
As Ghausiyah Imtiyāz remembered, Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund was much longer, very much longer, even than her Zalīl husband’s Cut Musalmān nūnī.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz turned off the shower and tried to wrap a towel around my waist as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz dried me off.
I started to come out of it a little, at least enough to barely understand and move for Ghausiyah Imtiyāz.
Some horny Musalmān houseladies must again have drugged her Hindu father in law Durgesh to enjoy sex with him, if he hadn’t conceded.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz wanted to get me to my bed.
She urged me to stand and put her arm over my shoulder.
As I stood up, the towel fell away exposing my extremely attractive legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund to Ghausiyah Imtiyāz once more.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz tried, without luck, not to look.
It was a struggle but Ghausiyah Imtiyāz managed to make it to my bedroom.
As we got to the side of the bed, I slipped from her grasp and fell half-on and half-off the bed.
When I fell, my hand grabbed the sheer material of her sexiest nightgown.
I ripped the front of it completely open and pulled Ghausiyah Imtiyāz down on top of me in the process.
It happened so fast it surprised her.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could feel my warm Hindu male body and damp my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund on her belly as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz tried to get my feet under me and stand up.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz pulled her nightgown together, the best that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could, as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz looked down on me.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was embarrassed until Ghausiyah Imtiyāz realized that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was the only one that knew what had just happened.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz lifted my legs to get me on the bed more and, as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz did, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t help but stare at my entirely incredible Hindu manhood.
It had been a long time…years in fact since the last time that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had seen a Lund.
Yet, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had never seen one this much attractive.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz stood next to the bed.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz wanted to touch it but had to remind herself that this was Durgesh, her father in law, a Hindu, and it was a crazy idea.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz turned toward the bedroom door.
Yet before leaving the room, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz stopped to take one more look.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz didn’t know what came over her, but Ghausiyah Imtiyāz thought to herself, no one would ever know what happened!
Her lust, her desires, and her years of frustration seemed to boil over in Ghausiyah Imtiyāz.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz walked back to the edge of the bed, slipped off her torn nightgown, and let it drop to the floor.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was in a sort-of Momentary sexual fantasy.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz cupped her right breast with her left hand and gently massaged it.
Then Ghausiyah Imtiyāz reached out with her other hand and gently let her fingers wrap around the flaccid shaft of her father in law, a Hindu’s legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was warm and smooth and yet it felt full of life.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz glanced up at her father in law, a Hindu’s face and could see that I hadn’t moved.
Her legs were trembling and feeling a little weak.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz sat on the edge of the bed next to me fondling my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz didn’t know why Ghausiyah Imtiyāz did it, other than all the years without sex overwhelming Ghausiyah Imtiyāz.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz very gently, and slowly, let her fingers stroke my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz tried to remember the last time she’d felt a Lund in her vagina and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz kept glancing at her father in law, a Hindu, to make sure I didn’t start to wake up, or come-to and catch Ghausiyah Imtiyāz fondling my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
Suddenly Ghausiyah Imtiyāz realized that my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund was getting hard under her touch.
She felt her stomach tighten with desire and a little fear.
Her hand slipped from her breast and travelled down my athletic Hindu male body to her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had to keep from crying out as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz started to rub her clitoris with my fingers.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was amazed at how wet her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot was.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could feel her own moisture seeping from her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz desperately needed to be fucked but Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had to be content with what Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had ─ one of her vibrators.
Her father in law’s, a Hindu’s legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund was hard.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had gently pushed the Hindu foreskin down exposing the pink, swollen Hindu head.
There were long strings of clear Hindu pre-cum that had oozed out of my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund and stuck to her hand.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz tried to imagine what it would feel like to have my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund that attractive fucking her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz glanced at her father in law, a Hindu, and could see no change.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz suddenly had a crazy thought.
Could Ghausiyah Imtiyāz suck on it without me knowing?
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t believe that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was even considering it.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz knew Ghausiyah Imtiyāz should leave my room and go back to bed, but Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was paralyzed by years of repressed sexual desire that had been building up inside Ghausiyah Imtiyāz and were finally coming out.
No one would ever know.
No one would ever know.
No one would ever know.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz kept thinking to herself.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could suck on it for just a Moment then Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could go back to her bedroom and masturbate with her vibrator, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz told herself.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz leaned forward and held my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund gently.
As Ghausiyah Imtiyāz slipped her lips over the swollen Hindu head, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could taste the silky pre-cum.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz moved slowly up and down the hard shaft.
She knew Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was pushing her luck and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz should go back to her bedroom.
Just as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was about to stop she felt my hand on the back of her head forcing Ghausiyah Imtiyāz further down on my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz completely panicked and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz struggled to get up but my hand kept Ghausiyah Imtiyāz there.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz felt my other hand grip her immensely erect ardent Musalmān breast and massage them, as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz fucked her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was in an awkward position but she managed to struggle free.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz stood up next to the bed looking at me.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was so embarrassed Ghausiyah Imtiyāz didn’t know what to do.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz wanted to run back to her room and yet Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” Ghausiyah Imtiyāz stammered. “I don’t know what happened, I just…”
I reached for her beautiful Musalmān wrist, pulled Ghausiyah Imtiyāz back onto the bed and said,
“Don’t worry, Don’t try to explain, just Don’t stop.”
“No,” Ghausiyah Imtiyāz said in a mild panic. “I’m really sorry…I should go…I shouldn’t have…”
“Stop,” I said as I pulled Ghausiyah Imtiyāz closer to me.
My genuine smile made Ghausiyah Imtiyāz relax a tiny bit as I said,
“There’s no one here but you and me and whatever happens is just between us…it’s nobody’s business, what happens in this house, it’s our secret. Some horniest Musalmān houseladies drugged me unknowingly a little too much tonight but Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, I can still do what you’ve always wanted to do with me. Don’t worry. I am not angry. I understand. It’s all right. You’ve already succeeded in swallowing and sucking my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund. Haven’t you?”
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was immensely frightened now.
She knew how I hated incest.
I had still not forgiven Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan even.
I had still not forgiven my step Ammīs, stepsisters, stepdaughters etcetera for their incestuous activities with me, despite they were now my Live In Relationship Partners even.
I never treated them harshly for it.
Yet never forgave even.
I had adjusted, compromised, yet never surrendered, never approved of it.
I paused before I continued.
“For years I’ve laid here in my bed listening to you masturbating. You thought, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, I was asleep…but many times, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, I wasn’t. Most of the time I was fucking your beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends even ─ and you never knew it.”
“Occasionally, over the past couple of years, I know you were even hidden in the closets in my room a few times and watched lying us on my bed with your Musalmān ladyfriends, working on your sweet looking pussy. All you ever wanted me was to be the man between your legs that was fucking you. After I was asleep, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, I know you would sneak out of my room. And when Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, you were in your own bed, you would finger-off as you used to try to imagine what it would feel like to you to fuck me.”
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz didn’t know what to say as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz sat on the edge of the bed looking at me.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz never knew I knew she felt that way about me.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz put her hand on her thigh and rubbed it gently.
The tips of her fingers were only inches from her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot and, without realizing it; Ghausiyah Imtiyāz spread her legs slightly as we looked into each other’s eyes.
I gently moved my hand between her legs as my finger brushed against her swollen clitoris and any measure of resistance Ghausiyah Imtiyāz might have, had melted away.
Her knees were weak and her lower belly ached with desire ─ the desire in the pit of her stomach that every, deeply aroused woman, knows.
The desire that can only be satisfied by having strong and passionate sex with a man.
All the years that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz went without sex had finally surfaced in her and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz simply had no more willpower.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz ached to feel my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund in her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot, holding me, feeling my hot breath on her neck as I plunged myself in and out of her…whispering erotic things in her ear as my arms encircled Ghausiyah Imtiyāz.
Even if I was her own father in law, a Hindu,…for this one time…it was right and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz simply couldn’t resist any longer.
I firmly pulled Ghausiyah Imtiyāz up on my bed so that we were side by side.
I continued to run a warm hand over her naked Musalmān thighs, each time working closer to her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Finally, I was gently running my fingers through her pubic hair.
Her breath was heavy with desire.
With my hand, I finally urged Ghausiyah Imtiyāz to spread her thighs completely apart, a clear act of her submission of her athletic Musalmān body to me as her man.
With a handsome smile, I looked deep into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī naughty Musalmān eyes as I moved my athletic Hindu male body on top of Ghausiyah Imtiyāz.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz put her arms on my back and closed her eyes.
Suddenly Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could feel the head of my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund searching for the opening of her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Wanting to savor every Moment, her total focus was my athletic Hindu male body between her spread Musalmān legs.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz felt my swollen Hindu manhood as it parted her fleshy Panjvaqtah Namāzī quivering Musalmān lips and began gently to invade her hungry throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
It had been a long time since a man’s organ had entered her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was tight.
For a brief Moment, it was a little unpleasant as my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund entered Ghausiyah Imtiyāz.
About halfway into her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot the feeling was thrilling beyond explanation.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz confessed, it reminded her of the night so many years ago that she’d lost her virginity to my stepson.
Her father in law, a Hindu, began to fuck Ghausiyah Imtiyāz slowly at first.
Her discomfort vanished very quickly, being replaced with the small waves of pleasure that my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund entering and withdrawing from her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot brought.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz wondered how Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could have done without this feeling for so long.
It seemed so ironic that the last man’s organ Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had in her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot was the stepson of the very man that was fucking her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot now.
It’s difficult to express the jumble of emotions that were surging through Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, as her father in law, a Hindu, fucked her.
I felt as if I needed to make up all that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had missed over the years.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz watched her father in law, a Hindu’s face as we fucked and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz listened to my heavy breathing and soft moans as my athletic Hindu male body and her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot gave her undescriptive ashvinātam pleasure.
“Bahoo Bégum, daughter in law, you’re such a good fuck!” I whispered in her ear.
My words sent a small shockwave through her as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz remembered how, long ago, my stepson loved to talk sexy to her as they fucked.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz remembered that the harder I fucked her the sexier my words got.
“Yes, tell me more,” Ghausiyah Imtiyāz groaned.
“Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, love the feeling of my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund in your beautiful, hot pussy!” I said softly. “Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, I love fucking your naked extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Musalmān body and most of all, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, I love the feeling of being on the verge of cuming and emptying my swollen Hindu balls in your hot wet throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot!”
My words were so thrilling that all Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could do was cry out loudly.
Our tempo began to increase and I was driving my hard my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund deeper into her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot with my each Hindu stroke.
“Can you feel my hard legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund filling you completely?”
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz nodded as another moan of pleasure escaped from her lips.
“Did you really hide and watch me fuck your extremely beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends ?” I smiled.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz whispered.
“Yes, I was extremely jealous of them. I wanted to replace them myself.”
“Oh yes, fuck me hard Durgesh!” Ghausiyah Imtiyāz heard herself pleading with me. “Fuck me hard! Fuck your Bahoo Bégum, daughter in law’s throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot and cum deepest inside me! There’s so you’re your Ghausiyah Imtiyāz wants to do! I’ve missed sex for so long,” Ghausiyah Imtiyāz said.
Her father in law, a Hindu, was hammering her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot with hard, deep, delicious Hindu strokes.
All Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could do was thrust her hips back at me…to help to take me as deeply inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could.
“Were you really passed out in the shower…or…or was all of this part of your plan to fuck me too?” Ghausiyah Imtiyāz whispered.
I looked down at her, smiled, and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz knew the answer by the look on my face.
“Thank you,” Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was suddenly tearful, “Thank you very much for honoring my needs in such a respectful manner to me. I was in vain afraid of you. You are very kind actually to us Musalmān houseladies ravenous for you.”
I didn’t say I knew Ghausiyah Imtiyāz deliberately compelled her husband, my Musalmān stepson, to divorce her.
He didn’t have another option.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had indirectly even threatened him that if he wouldn’t divorce her, she’d cuckold him to her Hindu stepfather and herself.
There wasn’t any use of it now.
Suddenly, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was on the verge of losing all control to her orgasm.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was almost ready to go over the top.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could hear herself crying and moaning from the intense pleasure that she knew was about to explode inside her.
Her own sexual tension was stronger than Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could ever remember feeling in her life.
We kept fucking each other until Ghausiyah Imtiyāz heard me groan loudly.
“Oh Eīshān!! Bahoo Bégum, daughter in law, damn it! I’m finally fucking you and I’m cuming…NOW!”
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz heard me moan and she felt my athletic Hindu male body shudder.
My legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund started ejaculating wildly inside her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
With the first spurt of my hot Hindu cum her abdominal muscles contracted as her own orgasm overtook Ghausiyah Imtiyāz.
It was one of the most intense orgasms that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had ever had and it seemed to last longer than any one previously Ghausiyah Imtiyāz could remember.
The waves of pleasure continued inside Ghausiyah Imtiyāz as we remained in the same position.
I fucked Ghausiyah Imtiyāz slowly and caught my breath.
In the gentle aftermath of her orgasm each time my legendary unique Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund would spasm, it would trigger another mild orgasm in her.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz had never been fucked like that before.
Durgesh was really irreplaceable, as her beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends reported to her.
“Durgesh is the ever best Musalmān Beauties fucker, beautiful Musalmān houseladies fucker Hindu.” They praised Durgesh open heartedly.
We fucked once more before we fell asleep and stayed in bed together for the rest of the night.
In the morning Ghausiyah Imtiyāz awoke first and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz remember lying in bed just looking at me as I slept.
Yes, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was conflicted by what had happened and it became obvious that we both wanted more and were willing to deal with any conflict.
Her father in law, a Hindu, and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz taught each other so much.
We explored together, we experimented in our sexuality, and we even boldly stretched the boundaries at times.
I showed her new and very erotic things that I learned from some of the other Musalmān women I dated and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz showed me things she’d learned from what limited experiences she’d had.
What was the most wonderful part of it all was that we explored our sexuality together.*
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz awoke with a start and looked around the room.
It took Ghausiyah Imtiyāz a few seconds to realize that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was in her father in law, a Hindu’s room, in my bed and not in her own.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz stirred slightly and knew that Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was alone in the bed.
A heavy silence filled the room as her mind went over what had happened the night before in this very bed.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz took in a sharp breath and her abdomen tightened as Ghausiyah Imtiyāz vividly remembered that her father in law, a Hindu, fucked her.
Parts of it didn’t seem real and yet, as her mind became clearer it was all very real.
With a soft groan, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz pulled the covers back and sat up on the edge of the bed for a Moment.
There was a handwritten note on the bedside table that simply said:
‘Gone fishing, be back later.’
She’d forgotten that her father in law told Ghausiyah Imtiyāz that he and a couple of his best friends were going fishing early this morning.
As Ghausiyah Imtiyāz sat there idly looking at the note Ghausiyah Imtiyāz couldn’t help thinking that what had happened the night before was some sort of dream or wish.
At that Moment Ghausiyah Imtiyāz felt a small amount of fluid beginning to seep out of her throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot and onto the inside of her thigh, and there was no doubt that what had happened was very real.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz stood up on unsteady legs and walked to the bathroom.
when Ghausiyah Imtiyāz looked in the mirror Ghausiyah Imtiyāz was surprised at how disheveled her hair was and there was no trace of her make-up left.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz took a long hot shower, simply standing there letting the water run over her naked Musalmān body, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz thought about what had happened.
Again, some of it didn’t seem real but her tender throbbing ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot was proof that it wasn’t just a dream.
Durgesh had really fucked his Bahoo Bégum, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz, doubtlessly.
Well, that’s very good.
Ghausiyah Imtiyāz picked up her mobile.
“Hey, Farīdah Imām, Ghausiyah Imtiyāz here. Mecca Fataħ!”
Similar Stories from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Begum
6. The Everbest Wives: 37 Durgesh Ghausiyah Imtiyāz: Mecca Fataħ
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
I noticed Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an immediately, walking up Market Street towards me.
Dressed in a knee-length flowery cotton skirt and an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, under which her obviously bra-less excellent Musalmān breasts swung freely, with shoulder-length fair hair, and carrying two bulky shopping bags.
“Those look heavy,” I said. “Can I give you a hand?”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an smiled at me gratefully.
“Thanks — that would be nice! It’s too hot to hump things around!”
Our fingers touched as I took the bags from her — as she leaned towards me slightly I got an even better look at her heavy excellent Musalmān breasts, and I felt my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund stir.
“You’re right — it is hot.” I nodded towards a pub on the corner: “If you’re not in a hurry, how about a drink to cool off?”
“Umm — just what I need — a nice cold lager!”
It was quite early, and the pub wasn’t crowded.
I bought the drinks while she found a small table in a corner.
We dumped her bags and sat down.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an smiled at me, toasted me over the rim of her glass, and then took a long swallow.
“Looks as though you’ve been busy shopping.”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an shrugged her bare shoulders. “I wanted to get out of the house and — take my mind off.”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an sighed. “It’s not always easy, re-marrying a much older man. He — well, let’s just say he can’t always do his duty. It’s getting worse lately — I try hard, but it doesn’t seem to do any good. Last night, I — I wanted it desperately, but it was no use. I worked on him with my hands, my mouth; everything … the only thing that gets him going is telling him about the men who’ve had me.”
She took another swallow of lager, and when she put her glass down our fingers touched again, but she didn’t remove her hand.
“One benefit is that I — get to do it ultimately, but not always when I need it, like last night.” Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an shuddered. “I played with myself, but it’s not the same …”
“I told you when you married your Hindu father, not to surrender to the incestuous marriage. After Anashvinā, it’s incest that destroys the manhood and sexual potency too fast to resist even.”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an sighed.
“I never believed it. I think the Everbest Wives Creations are right in their basic historical research that except you Hindus no other human society initially opposed incest. Incest provides Everbest husbands to womankind and Everbest Wives to the mankind.”
I smiled patiently.
“Then why are you complaining about your father husband?”
“I had to marry him, Durgesh. Why the hell don’t you understand?”
“Because his original wife, his Musalmān sister, divorced him? You forget that the reason she gave to the divorce court was his sexual incompetence optimum, wasn’t it?”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an sighed.
There wasn’t any use of arguing with Durgesh, the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
Durgesh hated incest absolutely.
He and the other Vedic Hindus still preach against incest.
The Everbest Wives Creations are absolutely incestuous creations and Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an is the personal secretary to the President of the Everbest Wives Creations.
From her earliest childhood, Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an remembered, she had been raised by entirely incestuous parents of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah origin.
They believed in the virtues of incest as Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah was the deliberate democratic choice of Everbest Wives Creations.
The Everbest Wives Creations needed support of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan for its own survival.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was Living in Relationship with her own Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, who was already Living in Relationship with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s extremely beautiful Ammī, Al Nafīsah Al Salmān.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan supported the Everbest Wives Creations but she insisted on Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah necessarily in Everbest Wives Creations to enjoy Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s support and security.
Everbest Wives Creations surrendered to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah proposal for its own survival.
Durgesh could not convince his own Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, not to be the guardian of Everbest Wives Creations.
Yet, he wants Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an to oppose incest.
Durgesh must understand Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an could not oppose the very basic policy of Everbest Wives Creations.
How the hell could she?*
I studied Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an’s body, especially her full excellent Musalmān breasts.
I could see her nipples prodding against the thin cotton of her blouse, and again my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund stirred involuntarily.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an must have seen me staring.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an eased the blouse down another couple of inches, baring more of her excellent Musalmān breasts and the deep valley between them.
Evidently, Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an was seducing me.
My Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund stood up proudly.
Well, I was never ashamed of it.
Why the hell should I?
I know, the overethicals always criticize and even condemn me for it.
I think actually they are jealous of me.
However, isn’t their jealousy to me ever irrational?
What I was getting even they can get, if they really wanted it to have ever.
The women like Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an only want to satisfy their ever-natural sexual needs.
They come to the men like me, only to get satisfied sexually, for nothing else.
Naturally, they would go to the man who can give them what they needed to the extent to cross even marital boundaries.
To preach them that it isn’t ethical would never solve their problem.
It’s quite natural for them to hate such stupid preachers.
What these stupid preachers think of them?
They don’t know it is unethical?
They know it’s unethical.
Nevertheless, their physical need is always greater when they decide to cross their marital boundaries.
You may hate them as much as you please.
But you can never stop them from doing it.
It’s their natural physical need.
No preaching is its alternate for them ever.
No preaching can change the natural human requirements ever.
I looked up.
Our eyes met, and I let my fingers stroke hers lightly.
“I know what you mean about being frustrated. I just have a difference of opinion about incest with my girlfriend. She got angry and marched out of my bedroom leaving me there quite unsatisfied sexually. Once herself satisfied, she damn cared about my own satisfaction too.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Why? What was wrong?”
I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. She was so — immature, I suppose. Very giggly, self-conscious, almost prudish. I prefer older women, more experienced, who know what they are doing, and what they want.”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an swung her legs sideways from under the table, and crossed them.
I glanced down, and dropped my hand to her thigh — Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an stared at me for a moment, and tugged her skirt up several inches, so that my palm rested on her bare extremely beautiful Musalmān leg.
“I too prefer older experienced man — who want to do things to me …”
At that moment, her phone trilled.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an rummaged in her bag, giving me another view of her lovely rich Musalmān cleavage, and held the phone to her ear, staring into my eyes.
“Hello? Yes, dear. Yes … I’ve finished shopping, but I don’t know when I’ll be home. Why? I’m with — a man, that’s why … we just met in Market Street, and we are in that pub on the corner of Fātimah Street, the Rose and Crown …”
Our eyes were still locked, and Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.
“I don’t know. I’ll ask him!”
She held the phone aside.
“He wants to know if you’re going to fuck me! Are you?”
I looked at her quizzically.
“What do you think?”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an spoke into the phone again.
“He asked me what I think. I think he will! What? Oh, quite good-looking … he’s got his hand on my leg, under my skirt, and he keeps looking at my tits …”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an sighed. “Yes, of course I’ll tell you. Yes, everything. No, I won’t forget anything — do you want me to take bloody notes or something? Yes, OK. “Bye.”
“Well, that’s got him interested. This evening might be better!”
I gestured to her glass.
“Do you want another drink, or shall we get going?”
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an smiled.
“I’m getting going already!”
I picked up her bags.
“My car’s just round the corner,” I said, and watched her excellent gorgeous Musalmān bottom swaying as I followed her out of the pub.
I held the car door open for her, getting a glimpse of an extensive expanse of bare smooth Musalmān thigh, and put her bags on the back seat.
I opened my door and climbed into the car beside her.
She turned towards me.
“I won’t mind being kissed,” she breathed.
I slipped my arm round her bare shoulders and kissed her.
Her lips were soft and warm.
I tasted her lipstick.
My free hand found her full excellent Musalmān breast.
It was firm but yielding.
I fondled it gently, rubbing my thumb over her stiffening nipple, not caring if anyone walking by looked in the car window and saw us.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an wriggled her legs, rubbing them together as Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an returned my kiss eagerly.
We kissed like that for a minute or two, and then we broke apart.
“That’ll do for a while. Now, please let’s get going — I need it badly — I want to get my clothes off, and be naked …”
I started the car, and glanced down to see her put her hand up under her skirt and finger herself, baring her thighs in the process.
I forced myself to concentrate on my driving — it wasn’t easy, with an attractive Musalmān woman masturbating beside me, her bare shoulders, now well out of her blouse, gleaming in the sunshine, her legs parted, with her skirt practically up around her waist …
Eventually we arrived safely.
as I turned off the ignition she threw herself at me again and kissed me wildly, gripping my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund through my trousers.
I retaliated by putting my hand between her still widespread squirming legs.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an moaned in my mouth, gripping me harder, as I discovered her soaking wet panties.
Somehow, we got out of the car.
I picked up her bags and walked up the path with her, while she hung on to me, trying to twist in front of me to kiss me.
Her blouse was off by the time I got the key in the lock — I looked down at her lush bare excellent Musalmān breasts, and rubbed the palm of my hand over them roughly — Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an moaned again, and Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an was unfastening her skirt as we went inside.
I closed the door behind us and put her bags down in the hall.
when I turned back her skirt and panties were off as well, and Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an stood looking at me wearing nothing but her high-heeled sandals.
She practically hurled herself against me, grinding her excellent ardent Musalmān body against me, trying to wrap one leg round my hips as she kissed me hungrily.
I ran my hand along her thigh, gripping her soft bottom and pulling her tighter against my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
then I pushed her back against the wall, her leg still wrapped round me.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an started to hump herself against my thigh, raising and lowering herself as I crumpled her breast roughly.
We kissed wetly, our tongues entwining.
I smoothed my hand along her leg from her bottom to her foot, fondling it and playing with her toes before sliding my hand slowly back up, to push it between our bodies to stroke the wet, swollen lips of her ravenous ardent Musalmān vulva.
I was tempted to take my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund out and fuck her right there, jammed against the wall, but instead, I kissed her lightly and broke away.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I grunted hoarsely, as she leaned back against the wall, her arms widespread, and her excellent Musalmān breasts rising and falling as she gasped for breath.
I reached for her hand and pulled her away from the wall.
I thought Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an was going to fall — her body jerked limply towards me, her eyes seemingly unfocussed, and I let her kiss me again.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an seemed to gather herself and took a deep breath.
She briefly bent to scrabble in her bag for her phone.
I put my arm round her excellent athletic naked Musalmān body and guided her to the staircase as we began kissing again.
We got up the stairs a step at a time, kissing and fondling each other.
We sucked at each other’s mouths, wetly, and I saw saliva trickling down her chin — hers or mine I didn’t know, or care …
Somehow we got into my bedroom, and it was her turn to push me against the wall as we struggled to get my shirt off, still kissing.
I broke off from undoing buttons to fondle her excellent Musalmān breasts, and then Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an started fumbling with my belt.
Together, we pushed my trousers and underpants down over my thighs.
I kicked off my shoes as Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an sank to her knees, easing my clothes down further until I could step out of them, and she pulled off my socks.
Then she kissed my rigid Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund, rubbing her face against it and fondling my balls.
“You’re so handsome,” Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an murmured, running her tongue along the shaft of my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund and kissing it again.
I lifted her up and carried her to the bed.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an lay back and looked at me, parting her legs.
I buried my face between them, kissing her there passionately.
She cried out, her body jerking.
I realized that Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an was already in the throes of an orgasm.
I moved my mouth higher, over her fluttering belly, and finally kissing those lovely excellent Musalmān breasts, my tongue circling her nipples, feeling the stippling of her large aureoles before biting her nipples.
“No — I love that, but I can’t wait any longer. Do me now, please, oh, please!”
I eased myself up on top of her, and she hastily guided my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into her, and then Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an lay back, her eyes closed, a smile on her lips… I started to fuck her, slowly at first, and then faster and harder.
I, too, was desperate, and it was all I could do to hold back.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an was grunting, moaning, her body writhing beneath me, and I felt her body grow damp with perspiration.
I kissed her excellent Musalmān breasts and her mouth as I fucked her.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an raised her legs, so that I could penetrate her more deeply.
Lifting her hips to ram herself against my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund, she was ravenous.
I jammed it into her.
Clinging to me, sinking her nails into my arms, arching her back to grind her excellent Musalmān breasts against my chest, Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an was enjoying our extramarital violent lovemaking.
I fucked her, fucked her, and fucked her.
It went on wildly nonstop.
Neither of us cared how long.
Only my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund was pistoning into her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot violently.
Only her vaginal muscles were gripping it ravenously, twitching around it impatiently and sucking it nonstop.
It went on for hours.
We both were wild now immensely.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an had washed my entirely embedded Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund several times with her fragrant Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal juices.
Ultimately, I myself exploded into her.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an shrieked, biting my shoulder, clawing my back, slapping herself against my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund, twisting in my arms as I continued to pump my Hindu semen into her, seemingly endlessly.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an stared at me wildly, her hair plastered across her damp face as we kissed violently.
I felt her fingers tangling in my hair, her body grinding against me, hearing her breath rasping in her throat, and then she fell back limply, her excellent Musalmān breasts heaving.
I kissed her nipples, feeling her heart racing as Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an squirmed, panting, her body racked with uncontrollable spasms …
Her phone trilled.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an reached out, her eyes closed, fumbling for it.
“Yes? Of course it’s me!” her voice was husky, and with her free hand, she felt for my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Yes, he’s just fucked me. It was fantastic — his stuff is trickling out of me … yes, of course I’ll tell you everything, dear … listen — he’s fucking me again …”
She held the phone close to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, swallowing my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund ravenously again, sucking it loudly …
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an spoke into it again. “No, not yet, dear — I’ll be home soon, but he’s going to fuck me again you’re listening to yourself … No! Don’t touch yourself! Save it for when I come home! Yes … yes … ‘bye!”
She dropped the phone on the floor.
“You are going to fuck me again, aren’t you?”
“Try to stop me,” I winked at her, smiling.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an laughed.
“Try to stop you? Never. Start pistoning me once again, my Anant Muslimātchod Hindu love. Now, I know why we entire Musalmān Beauties, why we entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies are crazy to fuck you shamelessly. You deserve our such ever obsession to you.”
I started pistoning Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an once again, smiling triumphantly, proudly.
Less urgently, this time, lingering over kissing her excellent Musalmān breasts, rubbing my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund over her body, fondling her with my hands, and eventually easing my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into her.
Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an stared at me, biting her bottom lip as I started to move inside her.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot felt wonderful — wet and warm, gripping me when she tightened her muscles on my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund.
We kissed as I fucked her slowly, and this time we were able to make it last even longer than previously.
We must have fucked for, infinity as if, until I felt the pressure rising in my loins.
She felt it too, responding with increasing insistence, and once again, her hips rose to meet me.
Her skin was still slippery with perspiration, and it was difficult to hold her as she began writhing.
I was afraid I might slip out of her, but Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an solved the problem by wrapping her legs round me.
We kissed passionately, our mouths working on each other, and then I erupted into her.
She gave a little choking cry, clutching me, forcing her body against me, kissing me frenziedly until it was all over.
We lay in each other’s arms, kissing gently, her hand fondling my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund, my hand fondling her excellent Musalmān breasts and buttocks, until Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an sighed and eased herself up.
“Time to go …”
We went downstairs together, and I reluctantly watched her climb into her clothes, adjusting her blouse so that it only half-covered her excellent Musalmān breasts. I offered to drive her home, but she insisted on phoning for a taxi.
I stood in front of her as Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an waited for the cab company to answer, my hands around her to cup her excellent Musalmān buttocks, kissing her neck and her bare shoulders, pressing my Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund against her soft Musalmān Choot.
We stayed like that until the cab arrived, and then she kissed me goodbye.
“Let’s hope that husband of mine hasn’t wanked, because it’ll finish him for a couple of days at least. If he has, I might come back for another round more!”
I grinned and kissed her beautiful lips.
“Well, you always know where to find me, Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an!”
“Every beautiful Musalmān houselady does,” Al Ħāfizah Al Qur’an smiled gracefully, “that’s not satisfied sexually by her incompetent husband. Thanks for being available to us ever.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Actually, by the time I reached age 18, I was having a ball literally.
I had hot and cold running awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī fervent Musalmān girlfriends and even an occasional lady teacher on the side.
On most weekends, I was making more ‘cream-pies’ than the local bakery.
I was never so proud as when, one day, I happened to go to Toys ‘R Us looking for a video game on sale. Attached was the store Babies ‘R Us.
There, shopping for maternity wear and infant clothes were three eighteen year olds: two blonde cheerleaders, one brunette gymnast, plus one hot soccer Ammī /substitute teacher.
All of them had swollen bellies containing a fetus, or two, created by of course, myself, who the hell else?
I had ever ‘done the deed’ even before I turned 18, it all started when I was 4 only.
My ‘Ammī’, Imāmzādī Ħumayrah Qāzī, gave me a weight set for my birthday.
She told me to NOT be like her husband and ‘let myself go’ but to always be in top shape, looking for ‘action’.
I would never forget it; she kissed me.
She’d kissed me before, but this kiss lasted a full minute.
She then told me something from years back: Ammī and her BFF were looking me over in the maternity ward observation room.
They saw me take a toy from another baby boy in the next crib.
When the lady doctor came along to return it, she couldn’t pry it loose.
She had to call another lady doctor; after a struggle of ten minutes, the two of them got the toy back.
Ammī’s BFF said,
“Wow, that’s one strong, virile baby!” Then she noticed something that was peeping out of my clothing, drooping down like a small elephant’s trunk.
She gave my Ammī the elbow and pointed it out.
They both gasped.
Ammī’s friend said:
“Speaking of virility, Allah, my God, you don’t think, I mean it can’t be…it just can’t…”
Well, it WAS, thank you.
Ammī stared into my eyes and then left the room.
I was stunned for a Moment.
Well, I took her advice and would lift weights and other things.
By the age of 18, I had an incredible physique that led to the ‘fun and games’.
Even Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would occasionally watch my outdoor workouts from the kitchen.
Little did I know that her nipples popped as she did.
By the end of my workouts, I’d be gasping for breath as was Al Āmnah Al Saåīd; her nipples would be fully erect, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sopping wet.
If only I had known: I could have sat in the kitchen, my deliriously sexy Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would’ve sauntered over and placed the slavering lips of that treasured Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot over my uncut rough Hindu cockhead.
I could just imagine her sliding down upon it till she hit bottom.
My youthful but powerful arms would’ve gripped her excellent Musalmān bum, thoroughly plump and rounded by her Panjvaqtah Namāzes, and used her like I was jacking it.
At the climactic Moment, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would’ve looked to the ceiling, moaning in orgasmic ecstasy as my youthful, innocent Uncut Hindu Lund swelled with power before unleashing a hurricane of my Hindu cum inside of her.
Just after that, she would’ve dropped into my lap like a spent rag doll.
Our lips would have met in a passionate kiss before she embraced me.
Trying to recover, she would’ve whispered something into my ear.
It might have been how much bigger I was than her ‘old man’, or maybe that we ‘shouldn’t have done that; I’m not on the pill, you know.’
Well, it was good that I didn’t think of that; I don’t think her husband would’ve understood me having to take Al Āmnah Al Saåīd to Babies ‘R Us to shop for maternity fashions.
I always wondered why Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, stayed together.
Her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, had been, I am told, a good looking guy when they wed years ago.
Then it happened: he lost his hair.
Almost overnight, he lost 95% of his hair and with it his confidence, bravado, and potency.
Later Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would tell me that old fossil’s thing was no longer four inches but now a soft and constant two inches.
My magnificent ten inches of Hindu manhood far exceeded Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s old man’s ‘doodle’ even when mine was relaxed.
I never had the heart to tell her that I had him beat when I was nine years old, or even before that.
Those were the days when Niranjan Sharmā came close to her.
Yet, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd never married Niranjan Sharmā.
She had her own plans.
Niranjan Sharmā was only her for the time being Hindu lover.
Ultimately Al Āmnah Al Saåīd needed someone to have sex with.
Well, why not Niranjan Sharmā, if he was so obsessed with her extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty?
The reason why Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, stayed together was also the reason for the events that were to transpire: a trust and a will.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd knew if she divorced the increasingly decrepit and useless ‘old man’ that she’d be cut out of any subsequent inheritance from his filthy rich wealthy family.
Her attitude was that she had suffered for this long, so why not hang in there till the big payoff.
That was where the twist came in.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ dragged her to the reading of the will.
The last family leader put in the document that Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ would get the whole estate, some $20 million (!), IF AND ONLY IF he created an heir and named it Al Aslam Al Saåīd, the given name of that last family don.
Talk about distrust, the will insisted that the child be genuine, genetically from the family, and not adopted or from a non-family member.
To that end, the child, upon birth, would have DNA matches done; then, and only then, would the law firm be authorized and directed to release funds.
This all led to quite a contrast on one weekend night.
In my little bedroom, which was an attachment to the garage, I was balling my English teacher.
She was a 37 year old soccer Musalmān houselady.
Red hair, green eyes, she had a statuesque figure like those giants from Las Vegas revues.
I was drilling her soundly, MILF or not, married or not.
My ten inch Uncut Hindu Lund was eliciting a sigh, a moan, a gasp, and then a protracted scream.
Finally, I tapped against her cervix, my Uncut Hindu Lundhead lodged deeply inside of her.
I had promised to pull out, as I always did.
I then hoped that she’d get second thoughts, which they usually did.
Sure enough, I felt her legs envelope me and her ankles lock around my thrusting hips.
That was my signal and I came with fierce intensity.
As I swooned, my lips brushing gently her pliant Musalmān lips, we came together, a simultaneous phenomenon.
All the while, my Uncut Hindu Lund was pumping white-hot Hindu liquid relentlessly.*
As always, I didn’t care if she was married, wealthy, or anything else; I just wanted to put my Hindu seed into a warm, tight Musalmān place where it could perform its pollination trick.
While I was scoring big time, in the main house Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, were trying to pull off a miracle.
It was truly pathetic, as Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s bald ‘old man’ was totally impotent.
Later Al Āmnah Al Saåīd would tell me he’d had just enough to do the job before she got pregnant with me.
Then, the ‘bald thing’ happened and his production went from less than normal to a few drips and drops.
That descended even further to the point he was as dry as the Sahara.
That night resulted in getting that hot teacher of mine knocked up, wonderfully pregnant.
In keeping with my stroke of luck, she was the fourteenth Musalmān babe, the fourth married one, to have to shop for baby clothes courtesy of me.
Like the other three married hotties, she’d fool her dumbass Musalmān husband, into thinking it was his own.
It was clear that the other married babes realized that suing me for support would be never needed.
I always supported every Musalmān Beauty and every Musalmān houselady if I’ve ever fucked her.
I was not any Arjun that needed a Kr’shñ, even to continue his marital responsibilities to his women he married and left behind.
I was myself my Kr’shñ.*
I visited another sexy Musalmān teacher that I had put in the family way some months before.
I explained to her dumbass Musalmān husband, at the door that I was an old student of hers.
I said I had heard about the baby from the class president and just wanted to give a ‘baby shower’ gift to my teacher advisor.
He was surprised but let me in.
Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad was shocked that I had come over and boldly introduced myself to her short, stocky, county clerk hubby.
We started talking.
All of a sudden and without warning, he said a few curse words and then headed out to the sports bar to watch the game just starting.
When I heard him slam the car door and drive away, my old ‘squeeze’ tried to slap me on the cheek, hard.
I grabbed her by the arm and kissed her.
She struggled for a second and then melted in my strong powerful Hindu arms.
We made out passionately for a long, long time.
She asked why I was there and I told her that I DID want to give her a baby shower present.
I brought over three pregnancy outfits.
She thanked me profusely and we kissed again.
Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad started putting them away when I stopped her.
“Wait, you don’t understand. I want to see them on you. I mean, those are from Frederick’s of Hollywood and I wasn’t sure about the size. Can you, well, humor me?”
She smiled and nodded.
She told me to ‘turn around’.
I did..I always wanted to do this, so I did.
I turned 360 degrees and ended up staring at her.
She thought that was cute and stopped demanding me to turn away.
She undid her eight months pregnant clothes, which were just her normal clothes she adapted, her dumbass Musalmān husband, too cheap to get her nice things.
The first outfit went on.
The bottoms fit around her still firm, beautiful hips, right below the beautiful baby bump.
She caressed the bulge with two loving hands…I rushed over and kissed that Masjid of reproduction before kissing her and returning to my seat.
She then removed her overstuffed bra.
I gasped as her breasts were, well, somehow both enormous and gorgeous.
But most of all, they were big… Eīshān! God, so very big. As she tried to close the top, it just wouldn’t reach.
Her struggles got me so excited…she was too big up top.
After a few Moments of her trying, I said:
“Let’s face it; it won’t fit. I guess I wasted money on that one; lingerie is not returnable. I am so sorry.”
Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad said it wasn’t my fault; how could I know her size.
She felt bad about that and hugged me, thanking me for the effort and asking me if there was anything she could give me?
Well, she was still standing there topless, so I stroked her amazing Musalmān boobs, licking my lips.
She undressed herself and I fucked her once more.
We both were so into it that we didn’t notice that we were being watched.
It turns out the game was an early rout, so her useless hubby had come back home.
Now he found his lissome, hot Musalmān wife fucking some old Hindu student.
What was THAT all about?
Immediately, my favorite pregnant teacher started this wild story that I had a condition that could only be cured by fucking a pregnant Musalmān woman.
It was so absurd that I stopped her.
“The truth is I knocked up your beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife. Apparently, you were not up to the task of satisfying her and I was. Why don’t you just accept it and forget what you saw here today.”
Not surprisingly, that wasn’t his first choice on how to handle this.
As his lovely pregnant wife looked on, he went berserk and charged me.
He was maybe five foot five; he laid into me with punches to the old ‘bread basket’.
I was ready for that.
He stopped when he realized he was just hurting his hands.
I picked him up, kicked him with both of my feet alternatively and lectured him:
“Little man, your three choices are: 1-continue to take credit for the babies, twins, in that beautiful swollen tummy over there, maintaining your standing among your friends…OR…2-you can divorce and abandon this Musalmān lady, with the true facts coming out for everyone to hear.”
“Given the odds of you finding someone even remotely this hot, I think I’d recommend choice number one. Of course there’s always choice number 3,” I put him down and showed him my Uncut Hindu Lund ten inches length of solid steel; his wife cooed and cheered; “I don’t think either of us want to resort to that!”
He literally shook in his boots.
He looked at her, then me, in particular the mighty arms that just held him up like a GI-Joe Doll, and slinked off into the other room, defeated.
After that little confrontation, he never said anything to Al Kulsūm Al Muħammad about our tryst. In fact, I never heard back from him.
Getting back to that night where I knocked up the other teacher while Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, failed miserably at the old ‘in/out in/out’: The OTHER thing that resulted from that night was a fateful decision.
After an hour of them trying and failing to have a modicum of intercourse, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and her dumbass Musalmān husband, Al Salāħuddīn Al Saåīd, retired to their respective bedrooms.
Within a half hour, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ was knocking on her door.
“I know you aren’t going to like this, nor will Durgesh. My thinking is that DNA would confirm the lineal ties to that new heir whether it was made by me…OR A SON FROM MY REAL FATHER. The thought of involving him, frankly, makes me ill. I hate the little Hindu scoundrel of yours, especially because he’s always scoring some hot Musalmān babe and doing her brains out in his little fiefdom out there.
“On the other hand, since we are desperate to make an heir, and need one started within 30 days, I think we might find use for that musclebound Hindu freak with his grotesquely oversized Hindu tool. I was afraid to tell you: years ago, that monstrous thing of his ripped the bathing suit and supporter that I lent to him…when he was 15!”
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd turned away from him.
Licking her lips, she didn’t want to let him see that this idea was a dream-come-true for her.
She’d watched me develop over the years, my burgeoning Hindu musculature making her excited more than once.
The idea of that oversized Hindu unit of mine servicing her, with the full intention of putting her in the family way, was scandalous, shameful, and damn exciting.
HER HEAD SPINNING, AL ĀMNAH AL SAÅĪD FLASHED BACK TO TWO INCIDENTS FROM THE PAST WHERE SHE HAD BEEN CONFRONTED WITH HER STUDLY Hindu’s UNMISTAKABLE ‘PHYSICAL ABILITIES’ AND THE BEDROOM ANTICS THAT ENSUED.”
Unknown to me, or her useless hubby for that matter, months before Al Āmnah Al Saåīd had become consumed wondering what DID go on in my little room with that endless line of extremely beautiful Musalmān female ‘visitors’.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd remembered something from years back and ran to the attic.
Sure enough, there it was: a baby monitor.
When I was out, she secreted the monitor in my room.
Thereafter on any date nights when her useless hubby was out on an errand, she’d listen in to the ‘goings on’.
What she did as she heard the moans of pleasure coming from my ‘house guests’ I don’t know; I did see once that Al Āmnah Al Saåīd had a ‘little friend’ in the drawer by her bed.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was always too embarrassed to tell me, even years later.
She did make me pick up batteries though, until I bought her a battery recharger.
Another recollection: my gorgeous Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was at the tiny local hospital picking up some medicine for her fragile Musalmān hubby when she chanced upon meeting me.
“Durgesh, what in the world are you doing here?”
“To be honest, I wanted to see the babies in the maternity ward observation room. I remember that wild night on my 18th birthday when I went from a party to another party and then hung out with six high school senior awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī fervent Musalmān girls having their last sleepover.”
“I pumped a lot of my Hindu seed into a lot of tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot..oops, sorry Al Āmnah Al Saåīd…I had relations with some wonderful Musalmān women after a proper period of getting to know them. Anyway, I wondered if any of them had gotten knocked up. With this being nine months later, I just had to come and see.”
I grabbed Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s hand, her other hand holding the prescription, and dragged her into the elevator to the third floor.
There they were in the tiny observation room: ten babies.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd asked incredulously:
“Are ALL of those yours!?”
I smiled only.
Just then, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd remembered that she had made a list of the people that were allowed to get through to me if Al Āmnah Al Saåīd received a call, e-mail, or message.
The list had eight, over 18 year old, awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī fervent Musalmān girls and two adult teachers’ names.
Al Āmnah Al Saåīd called them off and I eventually linked every baby to a name on that honor list.
All ten: every one of the babies in that tiny hospital was my doing.
When Al Āmnah Al Saåīd realized that, I noticed her nipples had erected, poking through the filmy white blouse she wore.
Her yellow slacks had an embarrassing damp spot too.
She kissed me fiercely, and then broke it off just as abruptly.
She whispered to me:
“If this was a hospital in another city, and I wasn’t worried about risking a $20 million inheritance, I would drag you into one of these semi-private rooms and perform a complete ‘spermectomy’…removing every sperm in those family jewels of yours.”
We kissed again briefly then left.
AL ĀMNAH AL SAÅĪD THOUGHT BACK TO THE HOSPITAL BABY BOOM AND THE BABY MONITOR PEEPING INCIDENTS AS SHE WAS IN SHOCK OVER THE SUGGESTION BY HER ‘OLD MAN’ THAT THE TREASURED DURGESH WAS NOW ALLOWED, EVEN ENCOURAGED, TO MATE WITH HER.
To think that my powerful ten inch long babymaker, the talk of the town at the beauty parlor, would be making a special guest appearance in her fertile Musalmān womb was more than she could take.
With a muted nod, smile, and thumbs up, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd gave her approval to start the ball rolling to found the ‘ Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and Durgesh Baby Factory, Inc.’
At first, he had the reasonable expectation of making a baby in a clinical fashion.
I always wondered about other stories, real or fiction, where infertile couples wanting a child would have the wife sleep with another guy.
Insemination didn’t require that, only stupidity.
Sure enough, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd’s ‘old man’ told me of their needs for a child and then ordered me to fill up a beaker with my ‘essence’.
It was his intention to ‘do the honors’ of injecting it into Al Āmnah Al Saåīd.
What a neat solution it would be, too.
Well, that was a little TOO neat.
It was one thing for me to make babies with a lithe, nubile cheerleader or some oversexed MILF substitute teacher.
There, it was a pleasure making those babies.
But now, I was being asked to coldly provide ‘industrial reproductive fluid’ for a cold, sterile insemination procedure.
There was no way I was going to do that, dude.
I pretended to go along with their idea.
Every morning I would dutifully present that little sample bottle to him with my cum.
They were intentionally tiny samples.
When he protested I asked whether his samples had ever been larger.
He had to admit they hadn’t been.
It was simple genetics, or so I convinced him.
When he put the tiny samples into the baster he intended to use to inject my Hindu seed into Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, it actually coated the baster plastic walls and left absolutely nothing to be injected.
He was frustrated and desperate.
We had 21 days left to start to make the trust deadlines.
He called Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and me together in the living room.
“I have tried everything to get the job done without having to resort to desperate measures. Well, we’re out of time if we want that trust money. So, it is with incredible reluctance that I say: the only way we have a chance is for you two to have sex, copulate freely and often, until Al Āmnah Al Saåīd is pregnant. I hereby authorize and encourage the two of you to have sex. Don’t be shy; do it here, do it now!”
We were both stunned.
Even though I had hoped that this would happen, by giving him tiny fractions of my copious spend for his sample bottles, I still dared not dream that it would come to pass.
To be asked, cajoled, even forced, to breed his own ever faithful extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, trying to get her pregnant, was more than I could imagine.
If you remember the old ‘I Dream of Jeanie’ show starring Barbara Eden, his wife, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd, was almost an exact copy: Same beautiful face and fabulous figure. As a matter of fact, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd was a tiny bit hotter than Ms. Eden, with bigger boobs and better legs. The dimples over her pert Musalmān bum and her gorgeous smooth feet completed a perfect package…We’re talking hot Al Āmnah Al Saåīd now, myself…
Even though cycles were such that we were wasting our time breeding on most days, Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and I were nonetheless directed by him to copulate continuously and relentlessly.
For three weeks, we had the strangest home in all of America.
While we were at home, he demanded that we remain nude at all times.
Furthermore, the Moment that my ‘batteries were re-charged’ after the prior love session I was to call for Al Āmnah Al Saåīd and do her immediately.
This really was becoming ridiculous.
At the breakfast table, he calmly downed waffles and bacon while in the next seat his own Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wife was going up and down on a seated Hindu stud.
My ten inch long steel-hard Uncut Hindu Lund was sliding in and out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, the rough Uncut Hindu Lundhead driving her crazy dragging itself against her tingling Musalmān vaginal walls.
My Hindu manhood scraped against those cloying walls as the insipid morning news shows blathered on.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Indexes: Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh
1. Ahal-Al Bayt
10. Midterm 2012
13. The Yacht
14. The Audacity
18. The Chairman
19. The Oath
21. Majājī Kħudā
37. Ammi, you too?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs drove around the corner, backed up in a driveway, turned the car, came back to place it against the curb, and switched off the motor.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt once more and looked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Why the hell doesn’t Al Nadīm Al Quddūs divorce her?
Can’t he understand Al Safiyah Al Ghaus would never come back to him now?
Is he one of the damn fools enough that can adjust with their cuckolding even, because they can’t manage to separate and antagonize their extremely beautiful ever smart richer Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife?
Most of the Musalmīn are managing now with their cuckold status to their Musalmān wives and Durgesh/their Musalmān wives’ Hindu lover(s).
Because their Musalmān wives can blackmail them now successfully more than they could before?
Because their Musalmān wives are now richer and more resourceful than their cuckold Musalmān husbands, and their cuckold Musalmān husbands can’t win them in any way?
She controlled however herself and smiled at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“I’ll give it to you in a nutshell, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. You can figure what must have happened. In the first place, my brother in law, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, was so afraid of us…”
“Us?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said scornfully, “So afraid of us? Never.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him,
“He was.” She said, “He was so afraid of me, at least, that despite Durgesh’s every assurance, he never agreed to continue as it was. Neither he wanted even his son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, to stay where I could reach or watch him.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at me, then he looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus again,
“Your new husband, Durgesh, planned it all?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wanted to humiliate Al Safiyah Al Ghaus by calling me her new husband.
But she was Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, too far inaccessible to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
She cooed, instead of feeling humiliated.
“Thanks for calling Durgesh my new husband. I love it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs gritted through his teeth.
“You are right.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled energetically, “Durgesh had everything all planned, down to the smallest detail. He had even instructed Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim not to sneak any of their clothes out of the house so they could have a dry change.”
“Why?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked bitterly.
“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus winked at him, “because both of them were insured and the insurance companies were going to make a thorough investigation.”
“Even if they pin it on Al Zohrah Al Bittol and Al Taufīq Al Fatimah?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her incredulously.
“No matter what they do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying her theory, “The insurance companies are going to look into the thing. A huge amount is involved in both the cases separately. The murder stories in both the cases are improbable as hell. If in their investigation, they find anything that looks like collusion, conspiracy, their fat will really be in fire.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s this way,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “As far as the police are concerned, they are perfectly willing to make murders out of it. It’s Ved Nagar. The police are managed by Ved Nagar administration already.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed,
“You are forgetting that Ved Nagar isn’t confined to India only. It has infinite levels, both visible and invisible. Every level here is divided rigidly by a horizontal layer of fifty square miles of Hirañý metal, utmost hardest metal ever found by humankind, resting upon some countless steel girdered pillars.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly,
“I am not forgetting anything, my child. Your Ammī, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, wasn’t born yesterday. Just listen to your Ammī and appreciate. The insurance companies have extended their branches everywhere. Haven’t they?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus,
“What do you mean?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim are criminals/criminal minded Musalmīn. They hadn’t acquired their billions through legal means.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said heatedly.
“As if I still care what the damn you do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said acidly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her, but he was too angry to her now, to respond.
“The insurance companies act somewhat different from the police.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said shrewdly, “The police investigate murders while the insurance companies are always afraid of a collusion between husband and wife. In both the cases the wives of the victims are involved. Al Zohrah Al Bittol is Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wife, even if she is on anticipatory bail and the police can’t arrest her. Al Taufīq Al Fatimah has her husband’s duly signed affidavit that she is not responsible for his murder. Someone was implicating her already, deliberately, even when Muħammad bin Qāsim was alive. In fact, there must be some finicky Pseudo Musalmīn who didn’t want her to appear in the porn movies she was adamant to do with Durgesh. She married Muħammad bin Qāsim on that condition. Moreover, it was also a condition that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to direct that porn movie. By staging their fake murders Muħammad bin Qāsim has got rid of making that porn movie for his wife, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, with Durgesh as her leading hero, and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has got rid of to direct it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled,
“I have already written the entire screenplay of the movie and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had already paid me fully for the same.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled bitterly.*
I kept silence.
There was no use in interfering.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying that she had compelled Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim, both, to run away from her ultimately, despite the fact that I was personally helping them.
“The first thing the insurance companies do is to start looking around for collusion.”
It was as if a solo performance for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Even Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t interested in criticizing her any more.
He had realized its futility.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with her.
And apparently it was her victory now that both Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had run away.
She was already the Conservator.
Until now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had won the battle for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus even against me.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was sure it could not be the final.
Durgesh was certainly playing some deep game.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was also worried.
“Our ever cunning Hindu husband can’t be that dumb, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“You are right, Naåīmah,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said worriedly, “Durgesh can’t be that dumb.”*
Neither it was easy to get conservatorship nor to maintain it.’
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was in Durgesh’s Live in relationship now.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had certainly learned how to protect his extremely beautiful niece’s interests.
“I know now that they were schemers.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd told me, “But it’s too late now.”
“Nothing is too late ever.” I pushed my ever utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Cock into Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd’s comparatively too young ardent Musalmān Cunt, “keep your thinking positive always. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim told me everything, yet he slipped somewhere in acting on my scheme exactly as I told him. Otherwise Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could never had been appointed conservator by a court of justice.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd kissed me on my Hindu male lips.
Despite there were so many problems, she was confident now that she was safe.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, her dangerously beautiful step Ammī, had succeeded in blackening her ever pious, ever sacred character before her Abbū’s eyes, but her uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, understood Al Safiyah Al Ghaus very well.
She was a gold digger.
It was soon known that Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā had appointed Al Safiyah Al Ghaus the conservator.
They got their order from Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.
The order appointing Al Safiyah Al Ghaus as conservator for the estate of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was made when Al Safiyah Al Ghaus qualified with a bond with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s help, and immediately proceeded to take charge.
“All right,” I looked at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “I happen to oblige Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s secretary.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled,
“She has her boyfriend cheated? I never knew.”
I smiled cunningly.
“It’s always a matter of impulse, Al Hudā. Her boyfriend couldn’t provide her such a legendary unique sex that I can. She loves her boyfriend very much. They are soon to marry each other too. But on the impulse of the moment, a very single moment, Al Kubrā Al Qur’an found she was absolutely alone with me. She grabbed my Penis. I never refuse to any lady when she needs me to that extent.”
“You fucked Al Kubrā Al Qur’an?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī’s beautiful Musalmān eyes brightened, “wow, I never knew. She always criticizes you.”
“Well,” I kept smiling cunningly at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “There are so many young ladies who keep criticizing me, yet whenever they themselves get a chance, they never miss it. They always fuck me belligerently and then call it only an animal surge. An exception to their normal life. They say I am too greatest a temptation to resist if there’s a chance.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed,
“The bloody ever hypocrite bitches. Never miss any chance to fuck you, yet never equally miss any chance to criticize you too that you must not surrender to every sexual demand from the women on impulse. Hahaha.”
I kept smiling,
“Let them have their own kind of fun, Al Hudā. Ultimately they are not harming me even a bit. Let them fuck me whenever they can, and criticize me when they don’t.”
“You mean they are actually jealous of us, your other lady friends who enjoy sex with you, not clandestinely?”
I tolerated the obvious,
“Al Kubrā Al Qur’an stays in Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s chambers until twelve thirty. Ring her and find out if Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā hasn’t any important appointment at one thirty. I want to see him personally on this conservatorship matter. If he doesn’t have any legal problem to meet, I want to see him personally before he goes on the bench this afternoon. Tell him it’s very important.”*
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā came bustling into his chambers.
“Hello, Durgesh, the greatest…”
“Nonsense,” I smiled.
“Well,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā laughed, “I don’t agree with you. It’s a fact whether you admit it or not, out of your courtesy, that you are the most important person now. The Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act is being opposed by some communal Brāhmañs, being represented by yourself.”
“Cut it,” I raised my hand, “your United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations have snatched away the Swayamvar right of your Brahm Padminīs. You have actually surrendered to Bhr’gu Kālchakrānsh, Bhr’gu time slot, without fighting with it. Padminī Bhārgav hasn’t any right whatsoever…”
“I am a Judge, Durgesh. I am not a law maker. I am only a responsible citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations . If my Creations decides that no Brahm Padminī is any more for anyone except you, it’s all right with me. If I don’t like Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, well, I am free to leave United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. Am I not?”
“Your Brahm Padminī wives…”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand,
“They are not my wives any longer. They are Brahm Jagdambās now, please! Every Brahm Padminī who the heck ever she is, now is your wife constitutionally if she is a citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. If she doesn’t want it, well, she can surrender her citizenship to United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations anytime she damn chooses, anywhere. Nobody is snatching away her Swayamvar right. No, never. I don’t agree with you. I agree with the Constitution of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, as it’s amended to the benefits of its subject.”
I watched him scrutinizing.
“Okay,” I said at length, “I’m sorry to find that you have more faith in my ever communal Bhārgav wife, Padminī Bhārgav, than you have in me.”
“I respect you very much. But sorry, I have my constitutional obligations too.”
“I am surprised. Haven’t you any self-respect that…”
“Enough,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand, “if we don’t have any other subject to discuss, will you please excuse me? I have many cases on my calendar to hear.”
“Okay, let’s discuss a conservatorship case then.” I said patiently, “I think perhaps I’m going to appear before you, in your court, on a contested matter. I don’t want to jeopardize your position or mine by discussing the case itself. Yet, I do want to get some history and, if possible, find out the reasoning back of an order you made in the case.”
“I see. What’s the case?”
“The matter of the Al Muħammad Al Qāsim conservator.”
“Why, I handled that just a couple of days ago.”
“I know you did.” I said gravely.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā looked at me shrewdly,
“You think there is anything wrong with the case?”
I looked at him impassively,
“Let’s not either of us discuss anything except the history, nevertheless, I would appreciate your thinking.”
“I doubt it.”
“I beg your pardon,”
“You never appreciated my thinking on Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.”
“Should we again indulge into…”
“I’ll discuss any guardianship matter anytime,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “In those cases, the Court wants all the information it can get.
“Mind you, I don’t want you to tell me anything you feel should come before me by way of evidence in a contested matter. Nevertheless, I’m certainly willing to tell you how I felt.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s eagerness to hear me in this case, yet not even a bit in Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, made me suddenly all alert.
So, Padminī Bhārgav had played a deeper game this time than I anticipated from her?
She had provided extremely beautiful Musalmān wives to every Brāhmañ that lost his Brahm Padminī wife to me due to Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.
She did it successfully because she did it in collusion with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
They both got advantaged in this way.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had succeeded in deputizing her almost infinite Musalmān agents, ever loyal to her and her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations .
Padminī Bhārgav had found an ever loyal friend in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
The Brāhmañ citizens of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations found ashvinātam sharīr yantrs for them.
They had got rid of their ever dominating Brahm Padminī wives too, for ever, without divorcing and paying any alimony whatsoever to them.
What was the harm in playing law abiding citizens and sacrificing human being too?
Were they not compensated financially too, optimum?
I controlled myself.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā was telling me continuously, *
I was all attention now.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is an old man.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He is confused. There is no question about that, he was incoherent.”
I didn’t contradict him.
It was neither the proper place for it, nor proper time.
It was the only relevant thing now to know about what the legal conspiracy was actually Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was facing only because he wanted to help Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was excited.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He was emotional. Apparently he had made a check for ten million dollars to some young woman who had been living in the house with him.
“When we get a combination like that, we figure that something needs to be done. I appointed a conservator on a temporary basis only, with the statement that the Court would review it at any time any additional facts come up.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā stopped talking and looked at me,
“You feel that you have some other facts?”
“Sure,” I said.
“No problem,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā smiled affably, “The order is subject to review with additional facts. Tomorrow morning at ten too early for you to present your facts?”
“I think not,” I myself smiled.
“I am not going to ask to have Al Muħammad Al Qāsim brought into Court. It may upset him, the Court hearing, I mean. I’ll take a look at any additional facts that are presented and then if I want to amend, suspend, modify the order I made, I’ll do it. That suits you?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
He smiled sophisticatedly.
“The one, I am fucking now, is my mother, my Ammī.”
All my five extremely beautiful mares watched the ‘animal’ suppressing their immense surprise.
He was fucking his own real Ammī, proudly, as I was fucking all the five of them.
“She sucked me when I was only a small boy. Whenever she bathed me, she always sucked my penis. My father is her real brother.”
“Where is that great person now?” Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī controlled herself with tremendous efforts so that she could keep her infinite hatred for him, away from her voice.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor smiled, pulled her still glorious nude Musalmān bottom from her son’s Hindu male lap, let his penis out of her still tight Musalmān Cunt.
It was shining from the reflected light his Ammī’s vaginal juices were reflecting from his rock hard Uncut Hindu Lund.
All the five of my extremely beautiful nude mares were controlling themselves with immense efforts.
Allah, these entire creations think it’s the ever best love between a mother and her son.
Fātimah Vaqār Taymūr thought.
Are they crazy?
“My Brother? Well! He has his own daughters now to take care of.” Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor smiled, “they are adult now themselves. They too need his masculine attention.”
“I understand.” Padminī Bhārgav cooed.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan squeezed her arm.
“Your Excellency,” Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī tried to smile energetically, “you requested that you want now your Just Eighteen Just Adult young girls to be inaugurated by Durgesh, on their eighteenth birthday. Why such a departure from your long established tradition, if I may ask?”
Padminī Bhārgav cooed again,
“I too want to know that, Your Excellency, if you don’t mind.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor smiled, and stared at her harshly.
“It is the only condition we’d allow Ved Nagar to open its embassy in our Creations. You have already accepted it. Otherwise we have never allowed your delegation, at all.”*
It was the most surprising factor for Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor that none of us had any weapon with us.
Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb had already told her that she could manage everything.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor believed Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb blindly.
She was in Makkah Mukarramah when Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī had died.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor herself saw with her own eyes how Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb made the impossible possible.
She was the Chief Wife of then Oil King of Saåūdī Årab, Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī.
He had compelled Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb to marry him despite she hated him.
She boldly unzipped me in her husband’s funeral and gave me a grand blowjob under open sky openly to disgrace Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī’s funeral.
Moreover, she made entire four widows and fifty two real daughters of Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī not only to do the same with Durgesh, but have open oral, vaginal and even anal sex with Durgesh.
It was a great celebration of her husband’s death she celebrated.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor still remembered, Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb came their in her Cadillac Limousine, and so did the other entire Musalmān houseladies of Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī.
Each of them owned their own Cadillac Limousine.
Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī had himself gifted them those wonderful Cadillac Limousines in his lifetime.
Yet, Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb made all of them to disgrace the funeral of Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī.
She still remember each and every word that Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb
Said in her announcement when the religious police of Makkah Mukarramah tried to stop it,
“Every religious policeperson of Makkah Mukarramah is hereby warned that his/her entire Musalmān houseladies are with Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā. This Jahannum-rashīd shaitān, Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī , hasn’t given any human rights to any Musalmān Beauty. We want to celebrate his Jahannumī death by humiliating his dead body openly. One by one, his every sophisticated extremely beautiful Musalmān houselady would come forward and would suck and fuck Durgesh under open sky. It’s our Guard of Honor to this shaitān.”
What a lady!
What a grand lady!
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor had managed to bring her to Everbest Wives Creations.
She needed her.*
Despite what Saåīdah Yåqūb had said she didn’t do a very good job of pretending nothing was different.
I was the one watching her now instead of the other way around.
It wasn’t just paranoia.
She had watched me long enough to notice me doing the same to her.
Saåīdah Yåqūb ignored it for a while, again hoping that time would take care of her problems for me; but of course it didn’t.
“I thought you said things weren’t going to change,” I said abruptly as we were eating breakfast.
“What?” Saåīdah Yåqūb looked up at me confused.
“Look, I know you made things all weird but could you at least not stare at me so much.”
Saåīdah Yåqūb pushed away from the table and headed to her room without giving me a chance to respond.
She was getting upset more easily these days.
What she really needed was to talk to Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān.
Saåīdah Yåqūb decided to call Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān.
She picked up almost immediately and agreed to come to Saåīdah Yåqūb for a few hours.
She said she would bring her swimsuit so that they could hang out by the pool.
Saåīdah Yåqūb headed back to the kitchen.
She was surprised to find that I was still sitting there.
“Saåīdah Yåqūb, I’m sorry. I did say I would pretend it never happened, but I can’t. It is dangerous to your health, morals and character. I can’t let you destroy yourself.” I said.
Saåīdah Yåqūb picked up her dishes as well as mine and set them on the counter.
“Fine, whatever,” Saåīdah Yåqūb said.
Strangely it didn’t bother her so much once I said it out loud.
Now, at least there was a certainty to it now.
“I too can’t stop thinking about you, even in my dreams.” Saåīdah Yåqūb said, “I don’t know how you put up with it.”
That did stop me.
This was taking a very different turn from what I expected.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Her hand was developing a slight tremble it got when she was nervous.
“What do you think?” she controlled herself somewhat.
Despite she was Just Eighteen Just Adult Saåīdah Yåqūb was a brilliant student of human psychology as her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān herself was.
That’s why she didn’t weep when she found her husband failed right there in her Shab-e-Ůrūsī, her very Golden Night itself.
She punished Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb by immediately fucking me right there before his eyes.
Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb was shocked and horrified.
He had never imagined he had married a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lioness.
His newly wedded Just Eighteen Just Adult wife cuckolded him to us both right there in his Golden Night.
“I mean you’re beautiful, Saåīdah Yåqūb.” I smiled, “I know I shouldn’t but I keep picturing you naked on your bed.”
I was standing right behind Saåīdah Yåqūb.
She turned around toward me.
“Don’t mess with me, don’t you dare,” she whimpered.
“Never. I’m not.” I smiled, “Never be afraid of me.”
I brushed her hair back out of her face as we looked at each other.
We moved to each other at the same instant and her eyes closed as our lips met.
It was so much better than all the times she had imagined it.
My strong utmost experienced Hindu arms wrapped around her glorious Musalmān back and pulled her close as our kiss seemed to go on and on.
She was aggressive in kissing me with all her femininity.
It was long passionate ashvinātam kiss of not a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān girl, of a fully grown Musalmān woman instead that understood what was right for her and what was wrong.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had grown mentally more as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had when she seduced me deliberately to revenge her own Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān.*
Suddenly Saåīdah Yåqūb pushed me away and backed off.
She looked at me uncomprehendingly, vacantly, blankly, and took a hesitant step toward me.
“I’m sorry Saåīdah Yåqūb, you shouldn’t have done that,” I said.
“What the hell? Why not? It’s okay by me still now, it’s really okay.”
“I’m already sixty five. You compelled me to respond to your immense aggressiveness.”
She took another step but I backed off further.
The momentary happiness that had been building inside her was crashing down now.
Why was Durgesh doing this to her?
She fled upstairs.*
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān showed up shortly after and found Saåīdah Yåqūb with her arms wrapped around her knees still on the kitchen floor.
Saåīdah Yåqūb told her everything about what happened with me, all the details as best as she could remember.
She didn’t say anything until Saåīdah Yåqūb finished.
“You know you can stay with me for a while if you want, until this blows over,” she offered. “It might help to get some distance from Durgesh. You are in love with your own Ammī’s Hindu lover. Well, you are not alone. So many of us Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties have done it. Most of them are living now happily with their Ammīs as their co wives.”
“Thanks Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān, I think I’m okay though. Maybe this was what I needed, a sign that I need to stop obsessing over my ever over ethical Hindu stepfather, Durgesh.”
She wasn’t really feeling as good as she pretended to be but Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t want to worry Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān too much with her problems.
They put their bikinis on and went outside where they lay down on two of the loungers that were side by side.
It didn’t take Saåīdah Yåqūb long to notice movement in one of the windows on the second floor of the house.
I was still keeping an eye on Saåīdah Yåqūb.
It was more necessary now after she kissed me so long, so aggressively, so unashamed of it.
“Allah,” Saåīdah Yåqūb muttered.
“What?” Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān responded.
“He’s up there watching us, even after what I just did. Probably thinks I don’t see him.”
To her credit Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān didn’t look straight toward the window to give away they knew I was there.
Instead she casually stretched out and moved her head enough to get a look at the window.
“Are you sure? I don’t see anything,” she said.
“Trust me, he’s there.”
“He is taking care of you, I’m sure.”
“Idiot, the best way he can take care of me, is to fuck me, doesn’t he know?” Saåīdah Yåqūb said scornfully, “He is acting as if my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt is not a cunt, a burning furnace instead that will burn his damn Uncut Hindu Lund entirely into dust, once it’s there inside.”
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān smiled.
“You are desperate that Durgesh hasn’t fucked you already.”
“Well, what the hell I lack, yār? I watched him fucking my Ammī, her sisters, her cousins, her friends right since I didn’t even understand what it actually was. I was fascinated. The fascination turned into obsession and immense love gradually eventually. When? I don’t know. The way Durgesh handles us, the way Durgesh fucks us Musalmān Beauties, is just beyond even our wildest imagination. What’s wrong there if I want him to do the same to me? Isn’t it natural?”
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān smiled.
“The multi zillionaire Hindu playboy thinks we are still immature when we are Just Eighteen Just Adult. We can’t differentiate between infatuation and love. He thinks we are actually infatuated to him. We don’t understand the gravity of sex life.”
“Even if it is so, why can’t he just fuck us and forget,” Saåīdah Yåqūb said furiously, “as we do in his damn bright opinion?”
“Well, he thinks sex is a divine thing. It should never be taken so lightly.”
“Damn him. I blamed the Musalmān Beauties who raped Durgesh once, not now. He deserves to be raped constantly. He is too proud of his unique legendary sex prowess.”
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān looked at Saåīdah Yåqūb quite stunned and horrified.*
An idea was forming in her head.
If I wanted to watch them, then they would give me what I wanted.*
Anyone could judge Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor if s/he wanted to, but Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor was never ashamed of herself.
If Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor felt for one second that her son, Mahā Mr’tyunjaý Pralayankar, who was nineteen, by the way-wasn’t participating willingly, then Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor had put an end to it. To the contrary, her son, Mahā Mr’tyunjaý Pralayankar, had always given every sign of enjoying their sessions and had never spoken a word to Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor of having second thoughts.
All the proof Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor needed was to see and feel the steel hardness of his Hindu erection when Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor and her son, Mahā Mr’tyunjaý Pralayankar, were alone together and the incredible sensation when her son, Mahā Mr’tyunjaý Pralayankar, cum inside her wet ever ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Now, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor couldn’t really say whose idea it was in the beginning.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor and her son, Mahā Mr’tyunjaý Pralayankar, had never talked about it.
Maybe it just happened and wasn’t anybody’s preconceived idea.
However, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor could say this from her perspective: There were several times in the years leading up to the first time they had sex where Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor lusted after her son, Mahā Mr’tyunjaý Pralayankar, even while I was always fucking her wildly.
But that first day?
She didn’t wake up thinking,
‘I have to screw my son, Mahā Mr’tyunjaý Pralayankar, today.’
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor was forty-one and, yes, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor admitted to being more than a little concerned about whether Durgesh still find her attractive.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor never wanted to live on Durgesh’s sympathy.
She still loved me exclusively, but she married her Hindu brother, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, despite it, didn’t she?
I looked at Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor gravely.
“You’d promised me, Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor, not to marry your real brother, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, if I never release you from my nude Hindu male lap.”*
Saåīdah Yåqūb grabbed the bottle of sunscreen and flipped over onto her stomach.
“Hey Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān, can you do my back?” Saåīdah Yåqūb asked as Saåīdah Yåqūb undid the string on her top.
Her hands rubbed the sunscreen delicately over Saåīdah Yåqūb’s back, being far more thorough than necessary.
Saåīdah Yåqūb folded her arms under her head and closed her eyes as Saåīdah Yåqūb let her work.
She wasn’t shy about where she touched.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān spent a long time on Saåīdah Yåqūb’s gorgeous Musalmān ass before finally finishing off on her legs.
“You want me to do your front too?” she asked.
“I think maybe you’re enjoying this,” Saåīdah Yåqūb said with a smile as she turned back over.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted.
Saåīdah Yåqūb pulled her bikini top off and dropped it on the ground beside Saåīdah Yåqūb.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān sucked in her breath softly as Saåīdah Yåqūb’s naked Musalmān breasts were uncovered right in front of Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān.
Neither of Saåīdah Yåqūb and Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān was particularly into girls, but Saåīdah Yåqūb had to admit Saåīdah Yåqūb was kind of enjoying the attention, and if Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān was having fun too that was fine with Saåīdah Yåqūb.
Once again Saåīdah Yåqūb closed her eyes and let Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān proceed at her own pace.
At first she traced the faint tan lines that had developed on her extremely beautiful gorgeous ever erect proud Musalmān breasts from always being covered, but soon she was rubbing them with her entire palm.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had to know what they were doing by now, but that was okay.
The main thing was to show Saåīdah Yåqūb what Saåīdah Yåqūb was missing.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān eventually moved onto her stomach before finishing off on her legs again.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān leaned down to Saåīdah Yåqūb’s ear before Saåīdah Yåqūb got up, and whispered to Saåīdah Yåqūb.
“Think that’s enough?”
“Mm-hm, thanks Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān,” Saåīdah Yåqūb whispered back.
As she was straightening back up she paused and leaned back toward Saåīdah Yåqūb.
Her lips brushed Saåīdah Yåqūb’s gently then pulled away again so quickly Saåīdah Yåqūb barely understood what happened.
“Just for good measure,” she said as she returned to her seat.*
Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t bother locking her door that night.
If Durgesh came in, it would mean Saåīdah Yåqūb had gotten me, and honestly Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t really care if I caught Saåīdah Yåqūb masturbating again.
It would bother me more than Saåīdah Yåqūb anyway.
Sure enough just as Saåīdah Yåqūb was getting ready to go to sleep, the door swung open followed by her dream man, me. Saåīdah Yåqūb wasn’t even fazed this time when I saw that Saåīdah Yåqūb was naked.
“You’re not playing fair, Saåīdah Yåqūb,” I said.
“All’s fair in love and war, my dear Hindu Stepfather.”
“And what is this?” I asked, clearly staring at her extremely beautiful gorgeous ever erect proud Musalmān breasts.
“Right now? Love and War. Both.”
It turned Saåīdah Yåqūb on to have me watching her openly with no pretense between us.
Saåīdah Yåqūb could feel, Saåīdah Yåqūb was close to getting everything Saåīdah Yåqūb wanted to get.
My sixty five years utmost experienced Hindu eyes followed her hand as it strayed back down to her Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and stroked it softly.
“You know we can’t, right? There’s stuff we just can’t do,” I said.
Saåīdah Yåqūb was trying to convince herself as much as me that I was in her room was evidence enough Saåīdah Yåqūb was succeeding.
Saåīdah Yåqūb decided to see how far Saåīdah Yåqūb could push me.
“If you’re gonna stay, you have to let me see your unique legendary utmost experienced Musalmān Beauties fucker, extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies fucker, Uncut Hindu Lund,” Saåīdah Yåqūb told me boldly.
“I don’t mind if you want to watch me nude, masturbating myself, but I’m determined that I won’t allow you get a free show.”
I controlled myself as her finger slipped into her Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
If I stayed there, it would be a victory for Saåīdah Yåqūb and we both knew it.
Yet, the question was whether Saåīdah Yåqūb had enough willpower left to let me leave.
What the hell her reaction would be?
It was even more than obvious now to me that it wasn’t mere her infatuation for me now.
She might be Just Eighteen Just Adult, but it was her exclusive love for me.
Saåīdah Yåqūb really loved me exclusively despite Saåīdah Yåqūb was Just Eighteen Just Adult only.
It would never be good for her to masturbate anymore imagining my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Let her see it now.
Saåīdah Yåqūb needed it very much.
Yes, Saåīdah Yåqūb was Just Eighteen Just Adult.
Yes, I’m sixty five now.
But it was now only myself that could satisfy her sexually, none else.
“It’s just looking,” I said, trying to convince Saåīdah Yåqūb. “No touching or anything. Just watching each other, that’s all. Okay? You won’t do anything more?”
Abruptly I reached down and undid my belt.
Saåīdah Yåqūb tried not to smile triumphantly too widely, but it was difficult.
Soon my pants were around my knees and I sat down confidently on the bed beside Saåīdah Yåqūb, trying to find a position that let her see me without getting too close.
Saåīdah Yåqūb saw I was almost fully hard already just from watching Saåīdah Yåqūb.
Saåīdah Yåqūb felt her ardent Musalmān clit throb as it finished stiffening before Saåīdah Yåqūb.
It was the first time Saåīdah Yåqūb had actually seen my unique legendary utmost experienced Musalmān Beauties fucker, extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies fucker, Uncut Hindu Lund even after all the times Saåīdah Yåqūb had imagined it.
Her Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was getting so wet that her finger was making squishing sounds and Saåīdah Yåqūb soon added a second.
Saåīdah Yåqūb grabbed my Hindu erection as Saåīdah Yåqūb played with herself and began stroking it.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
Nafīsah Salmān walked, on her knees and elbows, down the sparkling corridor of the Hotel Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī.
I was on her gorgeous behind, as usual.
My Uncut Hindu Prick was penetrating her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt sophisticatedly.
She found the door of room number 787, knocked once, waited three seconds, knocked twice, waited three more seconds, then knocked three times.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Nafīsah Salmān heard the sound of steps in the room.
A key twisted in the lock and the door opened slightly.
A safety chain, designed to keep the door from being pushed open, held the opening to a narrow crack.
A pair of green feminine eyes surveyed Nafīsah Salmān.
Then, silently a feminine hand moved up to release the safety chain and the door opened.
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit nodded but both of them were careful not to exchange the word of greeting until after Nafīsah Salmān and I were physically in the room.
The door was closed equally silently and locked.
Nafīsah Salmān smiled at Brahm Mahimā Sharmā.
Every one there was nude.
I was fucking Brahm Mahimā Sharmā on the bed.
Her extremely beautiful Sharmā Brāhmañ legs were on my nude Bachhalyā shoulders and she was enjoying my Bachhalyā Lund proudly now into her Sharmā Brāhmañ Cunt, playing simultaneously with her extremely beautiful Sharmā Brāhmañ buttocks too.*
Prabhā Shuklā put safety chain into place and turned to Nafīsah Salmān.
“How are you, Buā Ammī? I didn’t know you were coming up.”
Umā Dīxit nodded in agreement with her ever best friend, Prabhā Shuklā.
However, neither Prabhā Shuklā was ashamed of what she did to her immensely ethical, immensely moral, Sharmā Brāhmañ Bhābhī, Brahm Mahimā Sharmā, nor her ever best friend Umā Dīxit.
They were happy instead that they successfully made their Sharmā Brāhmañ Bhābhī fuck Durgesh.
Padminī Bhārgav wanted it done by hook or crook.
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit did successfully what Padminī Bhārgav wanted them to do, irrespective of the fact what Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl had to face due to it.
“Don’t worry,” Padminī Bhārgav shoved her extremely stunning, extremely amazing, gorgeous Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks into my nude male Bachhalyā lap, swallowed my entire Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund into her ever tight Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt, squeezed her Bhārgav Brāhmañ vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund and smiled cunningly, “you both are selected for my Brahm Padminī Squad. You both are Brahm Padminīs, no doubt. But you have to complete your assignments too if you really want to remain in my Brahm Padminī Squad.”
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit looked at each other and promised to complete the assignments allotted to them.
One of their assignments was to put their Bhābhī, Brahm Mahimā Sharmā for ever into my nude male Bachhalyā lap.
“Ghazālah Siddīqī would replace Brahm Mahimā Sharmā in your brother’s, Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl’s life.” Padminī Bhārgav announced, “We need your Brahm Mahimā Sharmā Bhābhī in our Brahm Padminī Squad too.”*
Nafīsah Salmān watched both the Brahm Padminīs, Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit.
They both were the exquisite example of Brāhmañ Beauties.
But Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said,
“Their Ammīs are Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauties, Ammī. Aren’t they? In fact, according to Hindu History itself, Ummil Åālmīn Hazrat Allāh Rabbil Åālmīn is the ever first Ummil Åālmīn. The entire infinite Brahm Jagdambās are even the especially projected bodies of the original Musalmān Ummahāt Al Åālmīn.”
Nafīsah Salmān looked helplessly at her ever ambitious daughter.
She was adamant to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
‘Every Muslimah is for a Hindu male at least, none else can even dream of her, let alone touch her.’ Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say proudly.
“The Musalmīn are being cuckolded to their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives and Durgesh/their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives’ Hindu lover(s), because only Hindu males are made for Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever sacred Musalmān women, not the Pseudo Musalmīn. Islam does mean peace and no Pseudo Musalmān is ever peaceful. They are either terrorists, or criminals, criminal minded at least. How the bastards deserve a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever sacred Musalmān wife ever? Are you crazy?”
Nafīsah Salmān couldn’t answer her daughter.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never let her.
“I never imagined you were so selfish, Ammī.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say contemptuously, “You want the Ever Best Hindu Husband for yourself, but not even a traditional Hindu husband for other more ever suffering Muslimahs. It’s a shame to be unable to forget that you are my Ammī.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” Nafīsah Salmān too said contemptuously, “Padminī Bhārgav claims only a Bachhalyā Penis when enters a Brāhmañ Vagina can provide Shaktipāt to a Brāhmañ woman, none else. She has invented Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement for it, a never ending Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī time cycle. Aren’t you doing the same thing proposing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah?”
“I thought I’d look the setup over,” Nafīsah Salmān said to Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit, “How are things doing?”
“They are making almost every Brāhmañ Beauty a Brahm Jagdambā now.” Prabhā Shuklā said smiling cunningly, “You are right, Buā Ammī. It’s not a part of Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement even. It’s not even a part of Brahm Padminī Squad. It’s actually a part of Brahm Jagdambā Movement. Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī is not making a Brahm Padminī Squad. She is making every Brāhmañ Beauty a Brahm Jagdambā under the disguise of her Brahm Padminī Squad. Why the hell otherwise she assigned both of us to make Brahm Mahimā Sharmā Bhābhī our co wife?”
Nafīsah Salmān controlled herself.
She tried her best not to lose her patience.
It was not a news to her.
Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī had already warned her.
“Padminī Bhārgav is not after Brahm Padminī Squad, she is actually after a Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Squad to face Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven Movements that are preparing Musalmān Ummahāt Al Åālmīn Squad actually, either this way or that way. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an ever shrewdest ever smooth politician now, but so is Padminī Bhārgav too.”
“Can’t you control Padminī Bhārgav, Umā, my child?” Nafīsah Salmān asked anxiously.
“I’m trying my best, Buā Ammī. But how the hell can we blame Padminī Bhārgav for it? Isn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doing the same thing under this disguise or that?”*
Late one evening, around 1:30 AM, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā finished watching a series of DVDs they had rented.
They were both barely awake as the final movie was ending, when suddenly they heard a knock on the sliding glass doors leading from their bedroom to the back yard.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Pragyā Agnihotrī, instantly panicked and rolled off onto the floor in just her panties, dragging the bedspread with her to cover her breasts.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā rolled in the opposite direction and grabbed his pepper spray from the night stand on his side of the bed.
As Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā crept towards the door, he saw a silhouette of whom he was pretty sure was Durgesh, I.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā barely plucked the blinds back and sure enough he gave me a silly wave and smiled.
Pragyā Agnihotrī and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā knew I had a big date this very evening, but wondered why at 2 AM I would be knocking on their door.
As Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā slid the door open, I immediately began to apologize saying,
“I’m so sorry to bug you, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, but I saw your lights on and, well, I’m locked out next door.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā immediately told me to come in, and I glanced to his right seeing Prgyā Agnihotrī getting up off the floor with the bedspread tightly clutched to her chest.
I again began to apologize for the intrusion.
Pragyā Agnihotrī began asking a flurry of questions,
“Why would they lock you out? Don’t you have a key? I thought you had a big date tonight? How’d that go?”
Being very comfortable with Pragyā Agnihotrī and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā I explained,
“They locked me out because they are assholes. As far as my date, it went just like all the other great dates I’ve had recently… I heavily get laid every time.”
Pragyā Agnihotrī chuckled and said,
“If you keep getting laid on every first date, you’re setting yourself up for almost a male prostitute, instead of a Sex Therapist, don’tcha think?”
I smiled and replied,
“Well yes, but damn it, I’m 64 years old and have had sex infinite times in my life; and countless of those were with the new chicks usually, who insisted that I never wear a condom, but that I take it very slow so as not to break their female sexual organs. Then when I finished, I was to be ultra careful not to even take my Uncut Hindu Penis off unless I was five hours more inside her because
she said she can’t afford to lose me… Now, doesn’t that sound like a wild and satisfying sex life to you?”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā looked at each other and grinned as if to say,
“That was a little more information than we expected.”
Prgyā Agnihotrī jokingly said,
“Come here; at least I can give you a hug on that, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, I’m sorry. Please allow me.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā was dumbfounded.
Hey Bhagwān, God, his own 39 years old extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, hugging Durgesh, the Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā?
Does her Brahmāñī instinct is longing for Durgesh’s Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund?
Padminī Bhārgav has already asked him for his extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife.
“You must think of entire great Brāhmañ community, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā. You are already fifty. What the hell you need Pragyā Agnihotrī for, now?”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā was dumbfounded.
“Your Excellency, it’s a matter of my self pride, my honor…”
“Oh, come on,” Padminī Bhārgav said irritated, “Your wife, Pragyā Agnihotrī, is a Brahm Padminī. We need Brahm Padminīs for our Brahm Padminī Squad. You can marry someone else who isn’t herself a Brahm Padminī.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā said bitterly.
“So, my younger brother, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, was true? You are making the entire Brahm Padminīs Durgesh’s Brahm Padminī wives forever whether they themselves want it or not? Whether their duly married Brāhmañ husbands want them to sacrifice for your cause, or not? Is it a Democracy? ”*
For the past fifteen minutes it had been apparent that Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, was marking time skilfully.
She was shoving her nude exquisite Trivédī Brāhmañ buttocks into my nude Bachhalyā male lap, swallowing every time my ever strong, Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund into her Trivédī Brāhmañ Choot.
I was fucking Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, because I had to, to follow the manners of Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations.
Vibhā Trivédī fumbled through papers, asked repetitious questions, and from time to time surreptitiously glanced at the clock on the wall of the courtroom.
Abruptly she straightened, constricted her Trivédī Brāhmañ vaginal muscles around my incredibly hard Bachhalyā Lund, and announced cheerfully.
Her vaginal muscles squeezed my Bachhalyā Lund beyond normalcy.
I gritted through my teeth,
“Sālī, Trivédī Brāhmañ Bitch!”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, smiled cunningly.
“Bachhalyā Piyā, this isn’t Ved Nagar. This is Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations. Your Musalmān Phuljađī Barristers can’t help you here.”
I grabbed her waist, pulled my Bachhalyā Lund until only its head remained in her Trivédī Brāhmañ Choot, and then shoved it back with my full Bachhalyā manly vigor.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, jumped to bear the thrust, but I grabbed her waist again pulling her extremely gorgeous Brāhmañ bottom into my nude Bachhalyā male lap again.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, squeezed her lower lip by her upper dental line, to control the involuntary scream ready to emit from her mouth.
It wasn’t good to her reputation to let it emit.
I realized the trap into which Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, had led me.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, cooed with every politeness and every official courtesy,
“You may cross-examine, Bachhalyā Piyā.”
“If the court please,” I said affably, “it is twenty minutes to five on a Friday afternoon.”
“What of it, BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ?” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, asked in his most respectful manner.
“It’s obvious to the Court too, your honor,” I said politely, fucking Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, savagely, “that the Court might not care to interrupt my cross examination of this witness with an adjournment. My cross-examination will, I feel, be rather protracted, rather prolonged. It’s thoroughly necessary in the interest of justice to my already extremely harassed client, my cross-examination should not be interrupted.”
“I object your honor,” Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, cooed, “to the phrase ‘already extremely harassed client’. Every defendant feels that way. It doesn’t mean…”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, raised his hand,
“The objection is sustained, Ms. District Attorney. You don’t need to argue further.”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, brought her right hand back, between her thighs, and squeezed my Bachhalyā balls playfully,
“Thank you, your honor.”
I enjoyed Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney’s gorgeous nude perky, heavy, big Brāhmañ buttocks being shoved to my nude male Bachhalyā lap repetitively, fucked her optimum, and played with her big Trivédī tits,
“May I be heard your honor?”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, looked at me gravely.
“BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ, you were requested by Rāj Kumārī Doctor Brahm Sītā Sharmā, the President of Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations herself not to defend the defendant, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā. But you regretted her request, despite the fact that Madam President is your duly married wife too.”
“The defendant Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā has refused to sacrifice his Brahm Padminī wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, for the cause of Brāhmañ community. It’s his fundamental human right.”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, smiled.
“It’s not the case at all, your honor. Moreover, the fundamental human rights differ widely from creations to creations, galaxies to galaxies, solar systems to solar systems, planets to planets and countries to countries. I myself was married to the President of Trivédī Brāhmañ Creations. But as soon as the United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations passed the resolution that in the interests of the people of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations it would not be benevolent to make Brahm Padminīs available to anyone else except BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ, my ever faithful Trivédī Brāhmañ husband immediately sacrificed me to now my Bachhalyā Piyā. Why couldn’t Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā himself sacrifice his Brahm Padminī wife to BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ? He is already fifty. What the hell can he get from his Brahm Padminī wife any more?”
“It’s his fundamental human right.” I said gravely.
“Not here. Not in the United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations anywhere. No Brahm Padminī is available now here, in the entire United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, to anyone except to you, Durgesh, BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ.” Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, shouted angrily, “We need our every Brahm Padminī, every one, without even a single exception to meet a greater celestial catastrophe. We can’t spare even a single one. It’s not a verdict that was taken defeating the opposition. It was an unanimous decision of the Inter Creations Parliament of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. Every person that opposes it is a traitor, I say.”*
Padminī Bhārgav witnessed it all on Hyper 3D.
Vibhā Trivédī was her proud selection in Brahm Padminīs.
She really had brains too.
Padminī Bhārgav was not a damn fool to waste such a great Brahm Padminī talent.
Both Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī looked at each other.
Then both of them looked at Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār simultaneously.
“Now, we are alone, Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār.” Padminī Bhārgav smiled gracefully.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār controlled himself.
He was astonished that ultimately Bhārgav Brahm Jagdambā Padminī Bhārgav had allowed him to visit United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
It was the sparkling capital of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār hadn’t seen any City better, except Ved Nagar only.
Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar was almost Ved Nagar itself.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār had come here directly from Karosiā Brahm Creations.
His extremely beautiful 1008 Brāhmañ secretaries were also with him, as well as his Brāhmañ Mahārānīs, Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit, etcetera.
Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār was already there when Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār reached Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar.
“Sorry to stop you from starting discussions.” Vibhā Trivédī smiled, “Her Excellency prefers privacy in meetings.”
“I feel privileged.” Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār pulled his Ārý Samājī Charmkār Penis out of Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit’s still tight Dīxit Brāhmañ Cunt till only its head was inside, then pushed it again entirely back, “We are honored that ultimately you accepted us as a negotiable political unit. Thank you very much.”
“It’s alright,” Padminī Bhārgav smiled, “Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār himself came here in person to decide the agenda of our negotiations. It was a great honor. We had to respond to it positively at least.”
Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār smiled fucking Rājpitāmahī Mahārānī Brahm Vaishñavī Pāŧhak.
Padminī Bhārgav considered them silently for a few moments.
It was not easy to her to digest watching two Charmkār Penises were invading so many Brāhmañ Cunts before her own eyes.
But she had to negotiate with Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār and Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār to get at least Brahm Padminīs for United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations’ own good.
It was not enough to break the marriages of entire Brahm Padminīs in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations only and make them Brahm Jagdambās legally whether they liked it or not.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was doing much more, very very much more to dominate BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs in Bachhalyā households.
Padminī Bhārgav had to bring entire Brahm Padminīs from everywhere, from entire Multiverse and make them Brahm Jagdambās.
It could not be done without establishing diplomatic relations with the political units that had Brahm Padminīs.
She had to make them to surrender entire Brahm Padminīs to United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations for ever.
Padminī Bhārgav was ready to give any reasonable price for them in exchange.
And she could give them plenty.
Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit, Rājmātā Brahméshvarī Kulkarñī, Rājmātā Mahārānī Brahmmālā Pāŧhak, and Rājmātā Mahārānī Sudéshñā Dubey were swallowing Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār’s strong Charmkār Penis into their beautiful Brāhmañ Cunts entirely and watching Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī swallowing my Multiversal Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund in their Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt and Trivédī Brāhmañ Cunt proudly.
All the four Mahārānīs were feeling extremely jealous of Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī.
Was Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Brahméshvarī Kulkarñī less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Mahārānī Brahmmālā Pāŧhak less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Mahārānī Sudéshñā Dubey less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājpitāmahī Mahārānī Brahm Vaishñavī Pāŧhak less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Then why Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī were Brahm Jagdambās and why they were Niyog Mahārānīs of a Charmkār Brahm Creation only?
Why they were condemned?
What the hell had they done after all?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm brought my Uncut Hindu Penis out,
“Any objection?” she asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Certainly not, go ahead. Durgesh is unique in sex. His Uncut Hindu Prick is amazing. It extends in length from six inches to just its double. Incredible. Isn’t it?”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled playing with my Uncut Hindu Prick, entirely unashamed of herself.
“Sure, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“Further, his sexual lust for us Musalmān Beauties, us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, is still more amazing. The more Durgesh fucks us Musalmān Beauties, us Musalmān houseladies, the more his sexual lust for us increases. It never diminishes.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at me in greatest appreciation.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Durgesh has infinite sexual lust actually for us Musalmān Beauties, for us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. It makes Durgesh unique. That’s why we have passed a resolution in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat that Durgesh is a Public Property, at least his legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick is. No one single woman has exclusive sexual rights on Durgesh.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“You must be joking. A resolution? Nonsense.”
“On the contrary,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan looked at Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely, “I’m absolutely serious. I never talk loose about my husband.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was stunned.
She looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan dumbfounded incredulously.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm went down on her knees.
She kissed my Uncut Hindu Prick, licked it, then started to suck it swallowing it into her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
There are some women who don’t lose their beauty even when they grow old.
Instead, they are more and more beautiful when they grow old, with their more increased experiences and resultant sophistication.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was one of them.
She was enjoying now my hardness into her mouth, proudly.
It was the unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis every Musalmān Beauty, every extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houselady, was crazy for.
She was still able to have it while even the Jet Musalmān Beauties were crazy for it.
“Where’s your son?” I asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim.” I said.
“He had to see a man. He promised he’d be back in five minutes.”
Her eyes were smiling at me cunningly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was suddenly all alert.
Allah, has Durgesh successfully helped Muħammad bin Qāsim too to disappear?
She had promised Al Safiyah Al Ghaus to watch on Muħammad bin Qāsim.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could concentrate on Al Muħammad Al Qāsim only.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is claiming she still has Al Muħammad Al Qāsim under surveillance.
But Muħammad bin Qāsim?
Has Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan lost him?
In her over confidence?
“How long have you seen Muħammad bin Qāsim, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked gravely.
“Five minutes ago, Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said innocently, “Our party broke when my son received a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said that he had to see a man on some business.”
“I see.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “And what did you do?”
There wasn’t any panic in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s voice whatsoever.
She understood very well, panic in her voice would never help her.
On the contrary, it could spoil her image instead.
Durgesh never cared for any of his woman to the extent to disgrace her Musalmān mankind.
Yes, she and her ever cunning Musalmān girlfriends had always successfully managed to use Durgesh for punishing their ever malevolent Musalmān mankind.
But that was the ultimate limit of Durgesh in helping them.
Even Durgesh’s ever increasing ever infinite sexual lust for Musalmān Beauties and extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies, could not compel Durgesh ever to cuckold their ever treacherous Musalmān mankind.
He hated cuckolding anyone.
“They deserve it, Durgesh.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had always argued with him, “Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors claim we can’t destroy Muslim Terrorism successfully until and unless we don’t humiliate terrorists Musalmīn. We can’t make them to see our humane viewpoint even without it.”
“And you think Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right?” I asked mocking at her almost every time she said it to me.
“I know Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors are right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan almost every time blazed at me.
She asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm again.
“I asked you what did you do.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled triumphantly.
“Came to my stateroom. I slipped my gown off, because I’d spilled some wine on it. Muħammad bin Qāsim will be back any minute. What’s all the commotion about? The ship’s jumping around. I can hardly stand up, consequently. We haven’t run into anything. Have we? Look, there’s a light over there on the water! Moreover, look at the searchlights!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded gravely.
She watched Al Nāsirah Al Karīm while Al Nāsirah Al Karīm sucked my Uncut Hindu Penis skillfully, smartly.
Allah, was the old sophisticated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm winning over great Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
She couldn’t believe it.
Durgesh is supporting Al Nāsirah Al Karīm against Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Hell, no, never!
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan cooed despite her immense wrath internally.
“I’m particularly interested in finding out about where Muħammad bin Qāsim went and what he did.”
“I heard the sound of a shot. An officer of our ship tells me there’s a man overboard. Does that mean anything to you?”
For a moment Al Nāsirah Al Karīm stared at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with triumphant eyes, then she stopped sucking me.
She undressed herself and me too.
Then she again went to her knees.
“Durgesh, fuck me from my behind, please. Let’s go to my stateroom.”*
I enjoyed fucking Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Nafīsah Salmān, etcetera more because they were in my own age group.
I immediately penetrated Al Nāsirah Al Karīm from her exquisite glorious behind.
Her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks filled my nude Hindu male lap competently as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely.
She smiled at me proudly.
I winked at her fucking her passionately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has now disappeared. They think he has been murdered by Al Zohrah Al Bittol. You are a widow now legally. You can enjoy sex with Durgesh now more freely.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed.
“I was never afraid of my legal Musalmān husband, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. If he didn’t like my extramarital affair with Durgesh, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was always free to divorce me.”
“Legally.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan supplemented.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“You mean not practically?”
“Well, it’s never easy for a billionaire to divorce his Trillionaire Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.”
“That’s not my problem.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm herself started rocking her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bottom on my Uncut Hindu Prick back forth and back.
She was enjoying my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Prick inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt very much.
Well, who didn’t actually?
Were women more animal than males in this matter?
My experiences with womankind answered my question in the affirmative.
But even then I wasn’t sure of my conclusion.
After all I wasn’t omniscient.
There was always a possibility of mistake.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm crossed to the drawer of a dresser.
She jerked it open.
Then she stood looking down at the empty drawer.
Her ravenous back forth and back movements of her bottom on my rock hard Uncut Hindu Penis had stopped now, swallowing entire my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“What is it?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gravely.
She was a brave, matured and vastly experienced woman.
It wasn’t easy for her to be startled on every this and that matter.
“My gun,” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “it’s gone.”
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan questioningly.
“I haven’t done anything, my dear Hindu husband of us entire Musalmān Beauties.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan told me innocently widening her extremely beautiful young Musalmān eyes.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” I said gravely, “if I found you are responsible for anything of it, even your closest friend, Jacqueline Lincoln, would forget you made her President of USA.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I never knew even you are jealous of my ever closest friendship with Jacqueline Lincoln.”
“Ever close friendship?” I grimaced, “Jacqueline Lincoln is your Karñ, Duryodhan.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was shocked.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan isn’t anybody’s friend, damn it.” I said curtly, “she helped Jacqueline Lincoln to be President of USA so that Jacqueline Lincoln could help her in establishing her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”*
Jacqueline Lincoln never thought she too would be on my ship.
She thought it was not respectful for USA.
Well, even if the rest of the world doesn’t realize now, Ved Nagar has actually replaced USA in leading the entire humanity.
“Mom, I don’t know why the hell had you promised Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle to attend the seminar with me in person.”
Dolly Carter smiled graciously.
“Jacqueline Lincoln, Imām Muħammad Ħasan Bhāījān is my milk shared brother. He has done even more for me than even my own real brothers did.”
“I know.” Jacqueline Lincoln said curtly, “Most of my maternal uncles had left us when we needed them utmost. It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan uncle only that helped us then in our survival.”
Dolly Carter’s eyes lit up with immense pride for her daughter.
“You remember it?”
“Of course I remember it.” Jacqueline Lincoln said, “How can I forget, Mom? It was the period that brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me together. Wasn’t it?”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to say something but I raised my right hand to stop her.
I addressed Al Nāsirah Al Karīm instead.
“You and your son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, were going to have a show down about your brother, Muħammad Ůsmān?”
“That’s what I told you already.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said to me, eyeing Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat suspiciously.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling cunningly realizing and enjoying it very much that the situation was still under her control.
“Did you tell Muħammad bin Qāsim what you wanted to talk him about?” I continued.
“I told my son that I wasn’t going to stand for a lot of vague generalities any longer; that I wanted to know exactly whom else he suspected to poison him if not Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and/or Muħammad Ůsmān. After all poison couldn’t have administered itself to Muħammad bin Qāsim.”
“What did Muħammad bin Qāsim say?”
“He said we’d talk it over later.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm had again started fucking me herself.
“He wouldn’t discuss it then?”
“He deliberately avoided it. Just as we were finishing dinner, a bell robot handed Muħammad bin Qāsim a note. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he had to see a man on some business. That broke up our little company of mother and son. Muħammad bin Qāsim and I came to my stateroom. I told him I was going to have things out with him, that for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah’s sake I wanted his partnership with my brother Muħammad Ůsmān must dissolve now. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back within five minutes. He simply had to see someone on a matter of the greatest importance for Al Taufīq Al Fatimah and himself.”
“There was your gun in that drawer?”
“Of course. That’s why I brought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and you here, to confirm whether it’s still there.”
“When did you see it last?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked quite disapprovingly it all.
“This afternoon.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm turned to face Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“It was your gun?”
“How long have you have it?”
“About two months. It was a new gun I liked very much. I immediately purchased it as soon as I saw it.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“I happen to know that your son has been in touch with Åāyeshah Dåūd, the Doctor. I think Muħammad bin Qāsim has tried to reach some agreement with Åāyeshah Dåūd. I don’t know what she told him. It’s a fine situation for blackmail even while Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd is too respected to go down that much. Do you suppose, madam Trillionaire, your heavily spoiled son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, could have gone to meet Doctor Åāyeshah Dåūd taking your gun with him?”
“I don’t know.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said curtly watching Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan contemptuously.
Her still strong vaginal muscles clutched my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“Durgesh darling, I want you to promise me that you’ll stand by me, not with your Practical Chief Wife, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, in this matter. Please, someone already trying to frame Al Taufīq Al Fatimah for poisoning my son.”
I smiled at her.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is sympathetic with Al Safiyah Al Ghaus. However, even then, she isn’t actually your enemy.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan uncertainly.
“Let me ask you some more questions before Muħammad bin Qāsim gets here. Just how much have you told him?”*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, pushed her magnificent nude Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my equally nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick once again entirely into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt and said gravely.
“I told him that Muħammad Ůsmān is of course my younger brother, but he was never a responsible person. My Abbū was fed up of Muħammad Ůsmān’s grossly irresponsible behavior. He never took any interest in our business. Even then he was always after money. I had to help Abbū in his business because Muħammad Ůsmān never understood his duties. Abbū naturally was not good at Muħammad Ůsmān. He willed me his sole beneficiary of his billions.”
“And you proved to be the worthy of his decision.” I said appreciating her, “you made his billions the trillions successfully.”
“Thank you.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm was fucking me again passionately, yet gratefully now, “You know I couldn’t do it without your moral support even.”
“I always try to support the worthy ones. It was your own courage, fight and prudence that helped you more. I only helped you where your opponents wanted to swallow you illegally.”
“And you think it isn’t valuable? They could have really swallowed me if they were really not afraid of your ever insurmountable opposition. I owe not only my success, but even my existence to you, Durgesh, my life.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed bitterly.
“He is utmost prudent enough to help only extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress. His ever lustful Uncut Hindu Penis never let him resist against it.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled cunningly.
“Well, he deserves the remuneration. Doesn’t he? If he is protecting us extremely beautiful Musalmān damsels in distress as even our Musalmān husbands don’t or can’t, why the hell Durgesh shouldn’t get even what our incompetent Musalmān husbands do?”
“What else you told Muħammad bin Qāsim?” I asked patiently.
Neither of them was understanding the gravity of the situation optimum.
They were wasting very valuable time in teasing each other.
Most of the women do it unconsciously.
Yet I never expected it from as exquisitely prudent women as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Nāsirah Al Karīm were.
“That’s all.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said, “That’s all I had time to tell him.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was still thinking of success of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus in taking care of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
She prayed Allah that she must also prove she took care of Muħammad bin Qāsim if not more efficiently, at least equally.
“Was that after he received this note, or before?” I asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Afterwards. We, Ammī and son, had left the others and entered my stateroom. I talked to Muħammad bin Qāsim for just a minute or two. Then I stepped into the closet to get out another dress. I heard Muħammad bin Qāsim slam the door when I was getting out another dress.”
“Muħammad bin Qāsim told you he had to see a man?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
“Yes. Muħammad bin Qāsim said he’d be back in five minutes and have it out with me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said patiently,
“I think we’d better go on deck and find out what’s happened. You are certain, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, Muħammad bin Qāsim took the gun?”
“Yes. I heard him slam the drawer of the dresser. I didn’t realize what it meant at the time. If… if somebody’s overboard, can they find him─ her?”
“It’s a pretty slim gamble.” I observed, “There’s a heavy sea running. They might swing the ship broadside to the wind and launch boats in the lee, but I don’t think they’ll do it until they have something definite to go on. They’ll play searchlights on the water, throw flares overboard, and keep a sharp lookout. They certainly won’t risk men’s lives in an open boat unless there’s some indication the person’s still alive. Moreover, don’t forget that a shot was fired.”
“Do you suppose it could be Muħammad Ůsmān?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm asked, “Allah, oh heavens! Muħammad bin Qāsim wouldn’t have done that!”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Midterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
Thrill, Sex, Suspense, Politics
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
2: Of my Musalmān Enemies
Index of Chapters
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Stunning Musalmān Houseladies
2: Of my Musalmān Enemies
The beach was one of my most favorite places to be. Not just for the Musalmān babes but for feeling of the sun warming my skin while the cool breeze coming off the ocean to cool me off.
Today I was just relaxing by myself and taking in the rays.
I think I half drifted off a few times but I was just aware enough to realize that some clouds had moved in blocking the sun.
I also noticed the temperature dropping a few degrees.
Anyone from some place with a beach knows that means it’s about to start raining.
I opened my eyes and saw that others had noticed it as well and were packing up to leave.
Seemed everyone was getting ready to leave so I guessed it was going to storm.
One look at the sky told me I was right.
It didn’t look too bad but definitely not beach weather.
I started packing up my things too when I noticed someone out in the water.
Whoever it was, they were having a hard time trying to get back to the shore.
Apparently they were out on the sandbar when the weather turned bad.
I knew there was no way they were going to make it because of the undercurrent.
I could swim pretty well but even I could not make that.
I watched for a few moments to see if whoever it was made any headway.
Right then I figured out it was a female.
She turned on her back and was floating.
Not a good sign.
It meant she was probably worn out from swimming against the current and was about to be carried out either side of the sandbar and out to the ocean because of the undercurrent.
I took off into the water knowing I would have to take her back to the sandbar and wait till the tide changed before coming back in.
I hoped it wouldn’t start storming and lightning but I knew the sandbar was the safest place with all things considered.
The water was starting to get choppy and that made it a strenuous swim to get out to her.
Luckily whoever she was she was at least smart enough to float to her back when she got worn out.
As I started getting closer she began to look a little familiar.
Oh Eīshān! It was Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī.
She hated my guts.
Her brother, Nādirshāh Durrānī, always lost to me his every Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife.
I fucked every one of them.
Nādirshāh Durrānī divorced them as soon as he learned it.
Nonetheless, hating someone is one thing, being in the ocean and about to be swept out to sea was entirely another.
I swam up along side of her and I saw that she was breathing very heavily and was shaking.
I guess she heard me because she kind of lowered more of her body into the water just as I reached her.
She really looked like she was having a hard time staying afloat.
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, are you ok?” I asked.
“Go away Durgesh, I am just fine! You always help us Musalmān damsels in distress so that you can fuck our Īmān. I don’t want to lose my Īmān to your damn legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund. Let me alone, please. You have already fucked my every Bhābhījān making hell my brother’s life. I hate you.” she scorned.
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, you are about to be swept out to the ocean, we need to go to the sandbar and wait till the tide starts coming back in.” I said.
She didn’t say or do anything.
She just floated there breathing.
I guess somehow she knew I was right but didn’t want to relent or ask for my help.
I didn’t know how she would take to me pulling her back to the sandbar.
Nevertheless, I moved behind her, put my arm around her and started making my way to the sandbar.
As I suspected, Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī started fighting me and kicking her feet wildly.
She was yelling something that I couldn’t make out with the water flooding over my ears but it didn’t matter.
I had encountered Musalmān Beauties like her before.
Now all of them were fucking me themselves without even a single exception.
My honest love for them had always won.
I approached from behind so that the wild kicks and flailing arms don’t accidentally get me.
Her kicks actually helped me tread water but her hands and nails digging at my arm didn’t feel too good.
It was a fairly tiring swim though because the water was pretty choppy and the undercurrent was pulling us toward either side of the sandbar.
I managed to get us to the sand bar though.
As soon as her feet touched sand Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī really started pulling away.
Since the water wasn’t in my ears anymore I could finally hear what she was screaming.
“I don’t have any bottoms on!” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī screamed.
“I’m sorry, but I had to get you out of the undercurrent. Don’t you understand that you were about to be swept out to sea? I exclaimed.
She didn’t say anything.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī just sat there with her legs under her butt in the edge of the water trying to hide her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān face.
I guess she was embarrassed.
Eīshān, she’s gonna start crying.
Great, now what do I do.
The last thing I needed her to do is get irrational right now and try to swim it again.
I moved to the edge of the water a few feet away from her and said,
“Here, you can have my trunks”. I shucked them off and extended them to her while turning the other way.
I had made sure I was in the water enough that I wouldn’t be flashing her.
I heard her move and finally take them from me.
A few moments later I asked if she had them on and Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī replied a pouting “Yes”.
I turned and looked briefly.
They were ridiculously loose on her.
Yet they did the job.
I didn’t push myself though and looked away.
We sat there quietly not saying a word.
I could feel the tension in the air though.
I didn’t know how much of it was her seething that I was the one that saved her from what she had to know was in a dire situation or the embarrassment of not having any bottoms on.
‘Wait a minute. Why didn’t she have any bottoms on?’ I thought to myself. Oh well, I am not going to ask.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī was tall.
Six foot tall.
That was the most remarkable thing about her.
I am not short myself and am in pretty good shape but still, 6′ is tall for a chic.
Sure she was a blonde and had a very good figure but what I had always remembered about her was that she was tall.
I guess that was because she lacked depth in personality.
She was nice and all but she tended to be on the fickle side.
I had already fucked a lot of her friends too, as well as her Bhābhījāns.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī hated me for it more.
“Actually she is jealous of all of us.” One of her Bhābhījāns told me once when I was fucking her.
We both were enjoying it very much.
“You mean Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī also wants me to fuck her?” I smiled.
“Isn’t she extremely beautiful?” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, her Bhābhījān, smiled at me cunningly.*
I winked at her fucking her.
“You are right.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, her Bhābhījān, wrapped her legs around my waist.
My Uncut Hindu Penis entered into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt deeper.
I kissed Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ.
She contracted her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Shaft.
“Nādirshāh Durrānī never reached this deep. Thank you.”
I fucked her more vigorously.
“Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, I love you. You never need to flatter me to have my Uncut Hindu Penis into your ever enticing Musalmān Cunt.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ looked at me cunningly.
“All of us Musalmān Beauties have Musalmān Cunts to entice your Uncut Hindu Lund to penetrate us. What’s special in my Musalmān Cunt?”
“Nothing that I know of until now. Yet, my sixty four years age experiences with you Musalmān Beauties have taught me, every cunt has its own individuality. Its own specialty consequentially.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered.”
“I’m not flattering you, idiot. I mean it.”
“Why the hell you don’t believe me?”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ had her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes suddenly filled with tears.
“We Musalmān Beauties are always deceived, Durgesh.”
I kissed her eyes.
“Never cry when you have me inside you. It means I’m not fucking you optimum.”
“Nonsense,” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed with tearful eyes, “you are the first who is fucking me as I myself want to be fucked.”
“You are most welcome, my Hindu love.”
“Nādirshāh Durrānī is smaller?”
“Ask his other Musalmān wives when you fuck them.”
“Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ, most of you Musalmān wives claim your Musalmān husbands are not competent. But in so many cases I’ve found they were only flattering me. Nafīsah Salmān claimed Imām Muħammad Ħasan was impotent. Now I know Imām Muħammad Ħasan is not impotent.”
“Now? Why? Didn’t you see his now utmost successful daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan? How did Nafīsah Salmān have Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan if Imām Muħammad Ħasan was impotent? Didn’t you argue with Nafīsah Salmān?”*
I smiled ingeniously.
“Why should have I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nafīsah Salmān was one of the most extremely beautiful Musalmān Beauties I’d enjoyed until then. I was fucking her to my heart’s content and she was flattering me still then. Why should have I antagonized her? I never do it. I’m not foolish enough to antagonize my women when I fuck them.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed melodically.
I felt as if I was hearing azān instead.
My Uncut Hindu Penis strengthened more inside her tight Musalmān Cunt.
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ kissed me gratefully immensely indebted.
“Did any Musalmān Beauty tell you ever, you have one more unique sexual prowess other men haven’t?”
“What?” I smiled astutely.
“The more you fuck us, the more your communal lust to fuck us Musalmān Beauties increases tending to infinity as if. The other men are being satisfied, lose it instead.”
“I haven’t any communal lust.”
Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed.
“Then what the hell we Musalmān Beauties enjoy more inside us with you than with our own Musalmān husbands?”
“You think it’s my communal Hindu lust for you Musalmān Beauties?”
“If not, what the hell is it?” Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ laughed good naturedly, “You haven’t to be ashamed of it. We don’t feel insulted, rather we feel proud of it that your own Beauties can’t satisfy you optimum, yet we Musalmān Beauties do.”
“Even you Musalmān Beauties can’t satisfy me optimum, Åāyeshah Aslam Sheikħ. I’m an incurable hyper sexual. You yourself admit the more I fuck you, the more my ‘communal lust’(?) to fuck you Musalmān Beauties is increased. Don’t you admit yourself it?”
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes widened.*
Why did Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī hate me?
Not only because I fucked all of the Musalmān Beauties her brother Nādirshāh Durrānī married.
There was one reason more.
Her sister, who was 2 years older than her at 21 used to work at the same beach hut that ran the life guard station that I worked at.
I caught her stealing some of the bathing suits that the hut sold and turned her in for it and Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī got plenty pissed off at me for it.
What she didn’t know was that I was the reason she didn’t get arrested over the issue.
I literally bargained with the authorities not to.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī never gave me the chance to tell her that and quite frankly I didn’t really care to.
I did the right thing and shouldn’t have to explain myself for doing so.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī’s problem was that she didn’t see her sister for what she was.
She was not only a thief, she helped her brother, Nādirshāh Durrānī, in smuggling too, even in kidnapping, smuggling, blackmailing and selling Musalmān Beauties to capable and powerful Hindus especially.
They used to purchase them in their auctions, paying even the highest price the others offered ever.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī’s sister was a pothead.
She probably stole the stuff to sell for drugs.
I knew it was only a matter of time before she did something stupid.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī refused to see that.
“They came off when I was trying to swim back to the shore.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I asked.
“My bathing suit bottoms. They came off when I was trying to swim back to the shore.” She explained.
“Oh.” I smiled reassuringly, not wanting to seem as if I was using this to engage in a conversation with her.
I guess Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī just didn’t want me to think she was nude bathing out here.
Was she a nudist?
Well, what if she is?
Who the hell am I to decide for her what she should do and what not?
My own Practical Chief Wife now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was herself an incurable nudist, feminist and exhibitionist.
She was so proud of her magnanimous, excellent, exquisite, Saåūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān female body that she loved to fuck me in public, on stage even.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was never ashamed of it.
The more one criticized her for it, the more nudist, Feminist and exhibitionist Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had become.
How the hell could I criticize Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī for the same?
I did notice though that Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had not thanked me for my trunks.
“Why did you bring me back to the sandbar instead of the shore?” she asked.
“We wouldn’t have made it to the shore. With the tide going out the undercurrent was trying to pull us out to sea. With the water being choppy it made it even harder to swim. Our best bet was to come back to the sandbar and wait till the tide starts going back in.” I responded.
“Is it going to storm?” She asked with a hint of fear in her voice.
“It looks like it is going to rain but I don’t think it will be bad.” I answered.
It then occurred to me that I had not driven here and was going to have to call someone to take me home.
How the hell was I going to face someone with no trunks?
Should I call Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?
Well, why not?
“Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī, did you drive here?” I asked.
“No, I took the bus, why?” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said.
“Umm, I took the bus too and I have no trunks now.” I said with kind of a defeated look on my face.
“Oh, umm, well, hmmm.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī stammered.
We both sat there quietly thinking to ourselves.
Of all the people each of us to get stuck in a situation like this with it had to be her and I.
I didn’t particularly care for her and she certainly hated my guts.
It was Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī that spoke first.
“Durgesh, I don’t really like this situation. I don’t like wearing your trunks but I don’t have much choice in the matter. I know you don’t really like me wearing your trunks but I appreciate your being a gentleman about it and giving them to me. I have a wrap on the beach and once we get there I can give your trunks back to you, but I am scared to go on the public bus with just a wrap on for bottoms. You know how those perverts get on the busses, it gets crowded and they get touchy feely. This is hard for me to ask but can you please forget our differences for a bit and see me home?” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said eloquently.
I was in shock.
But it was a pleasant shock, nevertheless.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī was always smart in school but she never had any worldliness about her.
She never had depth of emotion and quite frankly I figured her for the type to just leave when we got to the shore with my trunks.
“Umm, yeah, sure.” I smiled.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī then asked,
“How much longer till the tide starts coming in?”
“About an hour and a half.” I smiled again.
“Well, I am going to relax till then.” Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī said.
With that she leaned back while still keeping her legs bent.
I guess Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī resigned herself to have to be civil with me at least until this was over.
I was still taken back by how prolifically Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī spoke earlier.
She completely conveyed what she was thinking and how she felt.
Hell, she even showed empathy for my feelings.
I sat there thinking and looking around just trying to pass the time till the tide started coming back in.
I noticed something out of the corner of my eyes.
I looked over at her and Eīshān! I could see clear up my trunks to her extremely stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
The trunks were really loose on her and they weren’t very long anyway.
I couldn’t believe it.
I tried looking away and ignoring it but it was like one of those stains one finds on someone’s shirt.
You know, when you are standing there talking to someone and they have a stain on their shirt and you can’t help but look at it.
I didn’t want to sit there and stare at it because if I did and got a hard-on she would definitely notice it as Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had my trunks.
I had to do something.
I didn’t want to show her I wanted to fuck her now.
Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī could tease me and torture me sexually.
I never wanted her to win over me.
Why should I?
I decided to just roam around in the water a little bit.
The cool water should help me keep my member under control.
I did see enough though to know that Nādirah Nādirshāh Durrānī had shaved her mound completely.*
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Sun sparkled from the crested tops of restless waves.
I paced the deck, enjoying fresh air and the mild sunlight through clouds.
My hands were thrust deep in the pockets of a double breasted coat.
My rubber soled shoes trod lightly along the teakwood deck.
The cold breeze tried to ruffle my ever black hair unsuccessfully.
The heavy door from the forward social hall was pushed open one inch or two.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan shouldered it open.
She stood there with wind whipped skirts.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stepped across the high threshold.
Both of them released the door.
The wind pushed it against the automatic door check.
I walked behind both of them.
“Ship Ahoy!” I called.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, both turned to me.
“The other side is less windy.” I smiled at both of them.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded.
The cold wind was blowing the tendrils of hair across her extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān face.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan introduced us, “this is Durgesh, my husband, and the Hindu husband of us entire extremely striking Musalmān Beauties, if you don’t mind my bluntness.”
“Naåīmah,” I admonished Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat curtly, “behave yourself, you stupid.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled at me.
“It’s alright. I never mind. Most of us extremely attractive Musalmān Beauties, rather, never mind your titles related to us, actually. We think they are in fact compliments to us Musalmān Beauties instead.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“Now, come on. You Hindu scoundrel, the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, we both are starving to death.”
“Let’s go, my extremely stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wives.”
With an extremely attractive Musalmān Beauty on each of my Hindu male arm, I started forward along the deck.
They were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis impishly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had unzipped me and had brought it out.
With every female treatment of both the extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauties my Uncut Hindu Penis was extending and growing in their fists violently.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was playing with it rather shyly somewhat, but Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not ashamed of it even a bit.
Rounding the bow, the wind pushed us down the sloping incline, into the lee of the deck.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim put her hair back into place, laughed, and said,
“That’s what’s known as wind blown job. I’ve been hearing a lot about you, Durgesh.”
“Most of my extremely beautiful Musalmān women friends are already enjoying your Hindu sex kicks.”
“They say you’re unique in love and lovemaking both.”
“Tell them my numerous thanks.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim faced me with laughing, dark eyes, full red lips, parted to reveal teeth that glinted as whitecaps in the sun.
The silk blouse, open at the neck, disclosed the sweep of her tremendously lovely Musalmān throat, the rounded curve of her firm breasts.
“Durgesh darling, I saw you and my Ammī fucking and talking last night. I bet Ammī told you all about the family mystery.”*
I looked at Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Sure. Don’t try to act innocent.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan flashed me a quick glance,
“What’s the family mystery, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?”
“The disappearance of my portrait. Ammī packed my autographed picture in Abbū’s bag. She locked the bag carefully. When they unpacked, my picture was gone from the frame. Someone had inserted one of Zāherah Ħusayn instead, the Pakistani Musalmān heroine that worked in Indian movies too. I resemble her to the extent as if we both are twin sisters. Now, what do you know about that?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan glanced reproachfully at me.
“I know nothing about it. What does your Ammī think about it? If she has talked with Durgesh about it, we can…”
“That’s the point. Ammī is making it darkly mysterious. Well, don’t deprive her of her thrill. If Ammī tells you about it, act as if you didn’t know anything before Ammī told you it.”
“You are sure Durgesh and your Ammī were fucking when they were talking?”
“I watched them myself.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said curtly, “My Ammī was on her knees and our Durgesh darling was fucking her from her glorious behind. You say Durgesh is thirty four, why the hell then he is interested in my Ammī more than me?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me furiously.
“He loves big heavy female Musalmān buttocks filling his nude Hindu male lap when he fucks us, damn it.”
“She does not take it seriously.” I smiled.
“Me?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis more, to make me suffer from pain somewhat.
She raised her chin and laughed into my face.
“My parents think I never take anything seriously—life, liberty, or the pursuit of love. I’m the flippant younger generation. Hell, they never suspect it’s my act only. I’m immensely serious about everything.”
“And how about your Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim? How does he take it?”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis significantly.
Despite her tremendous efforts to act as if my Uncut Hindu Penis was not the first she was playing with, her inherent shyness and enormously hidden nervousness were constantly telling me I was the ever first man in her life she was enjoying even the foreplay with.
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan disapprovingly.
Why the hell Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t understand?
Her Seven Movements had upset the normal life of almost everyone, almost entire humankind.
“Oh, Abbū takes it right in his stride.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said, “He is a Thinker, carries the Multiverse on his shoulders. Despite the fact that you are the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, Abbū thinks you are Imām Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām .”
“Well,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said innocently, “I think…”
“You don’t think, you never think.” I said coldly, “You just fix a target and conspire to achieve it.”
“My dear ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly, “it takes a deep thinking even to conspire.”
“Shame on you.”
“Let it be. I damn care.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me, entirely unashamed of herself, “You mankind think every shame is for us womankind only. I refuse to obey your ever selfish decisions. Why the hell should we womankind obey you mankind? After all we womankind are infinitely more in numbers than you mankind are. In Democracy…”
“Oh shut up,” I said, “I’m fed up of your communal philosophies. You think every Musalmān male is a terrorist or a potential terrorist at least. But the Musalmān Beauties are neither. Every Hindu male is a born democrat, and…”
“Prove me wrong.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan challenged me.*
I smiled curtly.
“As if I haven’t already every now and then.”
“Never.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said shamelessly, “You have only argued every time.”
I squeezed her buttocks.
“Sālī, ‘Ūnŧh ré ūnŧh, térī kaun sī kal sīdhī’?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan pushed my Uncut Hindu Prick into Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s heretofore virgin mouth.
I felt embarrassed.
But to my surprise, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim kissed it lovingly, licked it and then started to suck it ravenously.
“I’ll be damned.” I murmured to myself.
“Enjoying it?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Samīnah Al Qāsim impishly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim nodded, brought my Uncut Hindu Prick out of her mouth and said.
“My Ammī was not the first I saw Durgesh fucking.”
“Allah Allah! I never thought you were so veteran a voyeur.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“A virgin is a voyeur mostly.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her step Ammī cunningly.
“Ammījān, I think you are right. I was also a veteran voyeur until I seduced Durgesh.”
Both of them laughed.
“You were telling me about your Abbū.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled.
“Only occasionally can I get Abbū to set it down long enough to play with me.”
I squeezed her breasts.
“Sālī, that doesn’t answer my question.”
“You can’t call me Sālī, your sister in law. I’m your Ammī in law, your mother in law instead. Don’t forget Imām Muħammad Ħasan is still my husband.”
“Ex-husband.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
I watched her dubiously.
Was she still married to Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is guiding and patronizing her?
But how the hell could it be?
Imām Muħammad Ħasan still has four duly legal Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives.
Yes, he doesn’t touch them anymore.
I fuck all of them instead.
But they are still his wives legally.
Is Al Samīnah Al Qāsim playing some deep game with Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
If Al Samīnah Al Qāsim hasn’t divorced Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is his fifth legal duly married wife.
Does Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan know it?
Has she planned deliberately to exile Imām Muħammad Ħasan from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat to protect him from Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?
I was more vigilant now of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim both.*
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr smiled patronizingly.
“Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was a commando. Wasn’t he?”
“What the hell do you mean?” Muħammad bin Qāsim grimaced, “Commandos can’t be murdered?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled sophisticatedly, yet patronizingly at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“I suppose,” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “all this is just a conversational background, a barrage, a bombardment, of words. They are trying to get us to commit ourselves. Umm-al-Åālmīn, I’m quite certain either Umm-al-Åālmīn Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is playing some deeper game, or Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Umm-al-Åālmīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself has planned it. Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was her commando. It wasn’t easy to murder him.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled again.
“I’m not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Yet you are Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā herself reincarnated. Aren’t you?”
“Sure,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “nevertheless, not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“Her worst critics claim Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is following her Hindu Live in relationship partner’s every step. What Durgesh Jījū has done Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī would also do action by action. You can’t win her, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was now on her knees.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was visiting her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt now.
“Once a barrister always a barrister. Are you cross examining me now, my Hindu Love?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling watching my still growing Uncut Hindu Cock penetrating the glorious glamorous Musalmān Cunt of Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
Despite my constant efforts to avoid them, Jet Musalmān Beauties were still constantly succeeding in winning my Uncut Hindu Penis for their ever aggressive ever feminist Musalmān Cunts.
It was necessary.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was vowed to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
It was the only solution to stop the kidnapping, smuggling and selling of Musalmān Beauties.
Only Hindu husbands/Live in relationship Partners could be trusted.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both wanted to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Yet, none of them could have the courage enough to say it openly.
Not only Musalmīn, even Durgesh was against it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used it to win Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both despite my opposition.
She made it a movement.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis out of her glorious Musalmān Cunt until only its head remained inside, “what does your father, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, say about it? What are your own theories incidentally?”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim shook her head.
She waited a few minutes for me to push my Uncut Hindu Cock back into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt, but when she saw I was concentrating somewhere else instead of on fucking her optimum, she felt her extraordinary Musalmān beauty insulted.
“Hey, where the hell are you concentrating? Give me that back.”
“Your legendary Uncut Hindu Lund. Push it back into me. Will you?”
“You must be. I would never forgive you if you ever do it again. Once out, I want it into me back, immediately. Do you understand?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Does he do it with you too?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and answered my question as well, “I don’t have theories. I’m too young. Moreover, I’m a practical woman rather. I never dream of anything. I march ahead instead, and get it practically, as I’m going to do now.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim pushed her own gorgeous glorious Saåūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap and swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt deepest, “I love it deepest, my dear.”
“Abbū Imām liked your aggressive sex?” I smiled fucking her somewhat more vigorously now.
“Never. He is too a damn fool Musalmān.”
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim Ammī.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan protested disapprovingly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, my dear immensely successful daughter. I’m with you, because you are running your Seven Movements, you have vowed taking Al Qur’an Al Karim in your pious hand to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. That’s what these damn fool Musalmīn need. Replace them with Hindus for ever and forget the bastards.”
“You ever communal bitches,” I said curtly, “always thinking with your ever ravenous Musalmān Cunts instead of with your brains.”
“No Musalmān bastard is here to appreciate you.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim too smiled curtly, “I know you adopt this attitude to please your Musalmān fathers in law and your Musalmān brothers in law. They don’t have any power now. They are cuckolded to you and us, their Musalmān houseladies.”
“You are helping their enemies. Have you ever thought of it?”
“Qāzī jī dublé kyon? Shahar kā andéshah. Why the hell you always think of others, instead of yourself and us? Enjoy our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān bodies, you stupid.”*
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“You have a telephone over there in the corner. Just ring the Ved Nagar police and ask them if a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered at an early hour this morning.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr promptly crossed over to the telephone, smiled sharply and said,
“That’s a very nice bluff you’re running. We won’t let it work however. I’m going to call you cold right now. Whenever someone makes a pass at me I call him/her then and there ineludibly.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr picked up the receiver.
“I want the police station, please,”
Then, after a moment, he said,
“Can you kindly tell me whether a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered this morning somewhere near Oceanside, Ved Nagar?… Never mind who this is. I’m simply asking a question…Well, let’s put it this way. I might be a witness in case there’s anything to it…”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr held the receiver in silence for several seconds.
Amīnah Zahīr was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Prick into her teen Musalmān Cunt in the meantime, smiling smartly.
She was herself fucking me now.
I stood still there on my knees behind Amīnah Zahīr.
Entirely nude Amīnah Zahīr was herself making the back forth and again back movements ruthlessly.
When it came out to sex, Amīnah Zahīr was almost an female animal with me.
It was rare I fucked her.
Mostly Amīnah Zahīr fucked me herself.
And that even almost most savagely usually.
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr suddenly said in the mouthpiece,
Then he slammed the receiver back into place.
He turned and faced his audience.
Then he started pacing the floor.
His eyes were half slit in thoughts.
He pushed his hands down deep in the side pockets of his double breasted coat.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim were watching him patiently, yet with a smirk.
Abruptly, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr turned, standing with his back to the wall.
“All right,” he said, “I’m security in charge here. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is not a nobody. She virtually owns our Kħilāfat Movement. She is one of the most important sponsors to our cause.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled contemptuously.
“Oh sure, I happen to know all of your bloody movement. What’s it? You are fighting for establishing a Triple Society, a Threesome Society actually. Musalmān wife, Hindu lover and thoroughly Cuckold Musalmān husband. Shame on you. You call it a Kħilāfat Movement? I’m surprised. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is one of your most important sponsors, not because she and the other similar sponsors are sympathetic to you. They want you cuckolded. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is running Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Movement. Your Triple Society is helping her cause. Jījū is against it because Jījū is against the humiliation of any human being whosoever the hell s/he is. Why the hell don’t you understand? Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is revenging what you Pseudo Musalmīn have done with Musalmān womankind. That’s why her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, is against her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah despite his exile from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr raised his right hand.
“I know you want to argue against our Kħilāfat Movement and even Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah as well. Imām Muħammad Ħasan has invited us to a Grand Meeting on the ‘Yacht’ of your Jījū. We have accepted the invitation. It’s not the proper place to discuss these utmost important political crises.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at me helplessly.
“Your Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is destroying the Musalmīn completely, either under this disguise or that. She is taking advantage of each and every superstition of Pseudo Musalmīn. I’d told you, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, already.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
As she neared me, a nasty little thought ran through her mind.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could give me the one thing for Shrāvañ Parv that I surely wanted most in the Multiverse.
Not long after having that thought, she smiled triumphantly.
Much to her surprise the idea returned to her the next day.
She kept pushing it aside as silly and unreasonable yet it kept coming back.
As if she would learn something, she didn’t already know she went into my room on one of my last days before Shrāvañ Parv break and turned on my computer.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav surfed through the images and felt a new and intense excitement.
For the first time she felt the desire to play with herself as she looked at my porno collection.
It was almost entire ashvinātam.
So, Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs were still even more than less in my life.
Only because they are more educated, more sophisticated and more accomplished?
The Musalmān Beauties were winning because they were losers and the Brāhmañ Beauties were losing because they were competent.
Yes, the Musalmān Beauties needed protection.
Yes, most of the Musalmīn were terrorists, criminals/criminal minded, because they were Uneducated/Under Educated.
Consequently, it was more than necessary to protect Musalmān Beauties not to opt for them.
There should be an open option for Musalmān Beauties to reject Pseudo Musalmīn and opt for Durgesh/Hindus.
Yet, why the Brāhmañ Beauties should suffer for it?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is right.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
She began to softly caress her tits before reaching down inside her pants to explore her pussy.
After a brief while, she removed her pants and sat on my desk chair with her legs spread widely apart as she fingered her pussy.
She quickly grew excited and played with her wet clit and pussy.
For a moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav closed her eyes and imagined me sitting in this same position stroking my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
Not, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh unduly criticizes Bachhalyās.
Only due to the Bachhalyās always opted for Brāhmañ Beauties instead of Musalmān Beauties.
Why the hell should not they?
Didn’t Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī conceive Bachhalyās initially as the husbands for the Brāhmañ Beauties and Brāhmañ Beauties only?
Didn’t she fight even with her Bachhalyā husband to keep Bachhalyās exclusively for Brāhmañ Beauties?
Didn’t she manage ultimately with her constant holy wars to get the famous declaration from the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI that Brāhmañ Beauties were only for Bachhalyās, not for Brāhmañs too?
Who the hell then Durgesh is attempting to change the famous historical verdict of the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Even Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is not right to suggest that the Savarñ Beauties have equal right on the Bachhalyās as the Brāhmañ Beauties do.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!!
Long live Padminī Bhārgav.
The Brāhmañ Beauties must be awarded.
Don’t preach them sacrifice only.
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!!*
Clearly Durgesh must do it, otherwise why would he have the pictures on the computer?
In her mind my Bachhalyā Lund was long and hard and I slowly stroked it while staring at the same image Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently had on the screen.
That vision alone was enough to catapult Dr. Sītā Bhārgav into a frantic sexual ecstasy.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav controlled herself very hard.
She did not want to fall to the level of unsophisticated women who instead of controlling themselves for the practical action, resorted to masturbation.
Initially she felt very odd about what had happened, almost as if she had crossed a taboo line with her thoughts.
Caste taboo was quadrupled here with the utmost arrogant Brāhmañ sacrosanctity.
The Bachhalyās were considered Shūdrs, dalits, the downtrodden nowadays.
Nevertheless most of the Brāhmañ Beauties never surrendered to the traditional Brāhmañ conspiracy.
Most of the anti Brāhmañs had always served the Bachhalyās in spreading celibacy among traditional Brāhmañs.
The Bachhalyās found Brāhmañ Beauties, consequently easily available to them.
Brāhmañs and Rājpūts were serving humanity uplifting Musalmān Beauties while Bachhalyās were serving Brāhmañ Beauties and Rājpūt Beauties even.
Surprisingly quickly, however, those feelings were replaced again by a certain curiosity and thrill of giving me the ultimate present.
Despite feeling a little weird about it Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to regularly watch the images she found on my computer.
Whenever Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could for the next couple of days, she went back into my room and turned on the computer.
It wasn’t the images themselves that appealed to her.
In fact, she had been looking at the pictures less and less and been thinking more and more about the idea of me stroking my Bachhalyā Lund as I sat in the same chair where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently was.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to make excuses for her wild gift idea in her mind.
She reasoned that since I was utmost rich and an entirely unashamed ever-best fucker she would be the perfect person to have me.
It was clear that I was the one person she felt totally comfortable with.
She realized that she felt relieved.
The Bachhalyās had improved more in my leadership recently.
Now, the Brāhmañ Beauties, Rājpūt Beauties and the other Savarñ Beauties were again openly fighting with each other to have a Bachhalyā husband/live in relationship partner/lover.
The Musalmān Beauties always ignited the fire between them to keep them away from their respective Savarñ husbands who were serving the Musalmān Beauties sexually and/or socially.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to look at it as doing me a favor, giving me the ultimate gift that any woman could give a man.
Why should it matter that there were “rules” that said they shouldn’t?
It was clear to her that I was a good man.
I was the utmost successful man almost in every field I was interested.
Moreover even at my sixty-four I still had desire to get out, meet new people and date women.
Perhaps by doing this Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could ignite a fire in me for her and let me see how wonderful it can be to be with her.
For a couple of days she repeated these ideas over and over in her mind until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started to believe them.
Still, even as noon on Shrāvañ Parv Eve approached, a tiny voice told her she was crazy.
The traditional Brāhmañs would be against her immensely as they were against most of the Brāhmañ Beauties who were already my live in relationship partners/beloveds, my women friends having sex with me.
Doing something she had never done before, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav got in the car and joined the throng of last minute gift shoppers at the local mall.
She went thinking that she would just walk around until she found the perfect gift for me and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could stop having her silly thoughts.
After a couple of hours of searching through stores and fighting crowds, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was still empty handed.
It literally seemed that, I already had every material thing that an utmost rich man could have or want.
She wandered around thinking about this when her mind hit on the idea of material gifts.
Maybe she was looking in the wrong direction, she thought, maybe the key wasn’t material but something else.
She let this thought linger and actually asked herself what thing or experience must I want more than anything else, but as soon as her mind formed the thought she immediately knew the answer.
The answer came first not from her mind but from deep inside her.
She felt her stomach knot slightly and perhaps even a brief tingling in her pussy before her mind answered her own question with a single word, “Sex.”
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued walking around the mall for a while longer still trying to figure out what to do even though, deep down, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suspected that she had already made up her mind.
When she did finally stop in front of a store where she knew she’d find the perfect thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled to herself.
It certainly wasn’t the store she’d been expecting.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside, the lady by the door said,
“Hi, welcome to Victoria’s Secret.”
“Geez, Sītā Bhārgav, I thought you got lost,” I teased when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside the house. “I would have thought you’d have known better than to go out on Shrāvañ Parv Eve.”
She laughed and said Dr. Sītā Bhārgav certainly had learned her lesson.
As she walked past the couch, where I was sitting Dr. Sītā Bhārgav commented that she’d picked up some food for dinner and quickly went into the kitchen.
Before I could follow her Dr. Sītā Bhārgav dropped the food on the counter and quickly shoved the other, smaller bag into one of the cabinets where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would come back to get it later.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started putting away some of the other groceries she had purchased while at the store.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t know how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to make her gift work, but she thought it might be nice to have the supplies for a nice meal to either set the mood or bask in the afterglow when they were done.
After putting away the groceries together Dr. Sītā Bhārgav and I sat down to eat dinner.
All through dinner, I tried to get her to reveal what she had bought me for Shrāvañ Parv.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would only say that it was something she knew I wanted but wouldn’t say anything else.
After I left Dr. Sītā Bhārgav retrieved her little bag from the kitchen cabinet and stashed it in her room.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tried to read but her mind was too busy racing with thoughts and uncertain emotions.
Instead, she picked up the remote and stayed in bed flipping TV channels randomly until she finally drifted off to sleep.
Even as Shrāvañ Parv Day dawned, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t quite know how to play out the day.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav showered, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suddenly got cold feet and started having second thoughts.
She frantically tried to think of something, anything else Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could do, but repeatedly a little voice told her she already knew what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going, and wanted, to do.
Immediately after her shower, she heard me rustling around and called down the hall that she needed more time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav told me to eat breakfast and that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav came down we would exchange our gifts.
Usually, we got right up and opened our gifts in our pajamas even before eating just as we had done previously.
Today, however, she knew she needed some time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav went back into the bathroom and took her time as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully applied her makeup and fixed her hair.
Usually she only took this much time when she had a special outing and wanted to impress people, but she had decided that she needed to look her best to make this gift perfect.
She applied fresh polish to her nails and as they dried Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully considered how to compliment her outfit.
She pulled a pair of black, strapless shoes with tall, spiked heels out of the closet and knew they would be perfect.
She found her long strand of pearls and put them around her neck.
She loved the length of this necklace as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could wrap it firmly around her neck with one loop and then leave the second loop hanging down her chest.
While the first loop gave the sexy look of a choker style necklace the second one hung down perfectly so the bottom few pearls nestled nicely into her healthy cleavage.
With her free time and lack of working for nearly the past 20 years Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had taken to working out regularly to keep herself fit.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav swam laps daily in their pool.
That was one of the great things about where she lived since the weather was warm enough to swim virtually all year around.
The result of all her swimming and her ability to focus on fashion and her appearance was that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked and felt fitter than she ever had been before.
Even when she had married her Brāhmañ husband, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t as fit as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now.
Knowing that made her feel sexier than she ever had before and she found it slightly ironic that she felt sexier and more desirable as she got older.
After putting on pearl earrings to compliment the necklace she pulled the items from her small bag, and considered how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav should dress.
She had purchased a few different outfits hoping one would match her mood today.
Looking them over, she reached down and picked up the silk robe.
She already owned several silk robes similar to this one because she loved the way the smooth fabric felt on her skin, but for this occasion, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted something new, something she’d never had on before.
The robe was black and felt very sexy and sleek as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slipped it on over her naked body.
It was a full-length robe and only stopped down around her ankles.
By itself, it wasn’t very revealing but she knew that the thin material would cling to her temptingly as she moved around.
For the final touch, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tied the knot in the band around her waist just a little more loosely than usual allowing more of her chest and some cleavage to be exposed.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took one long last look at herself in the mirror before she left.
She reapplied some lipstick in a deep red color that perfectly matched the color of the polish on her nails.
She analyzed her hair and decided it was fine.
Her jet-black hair was pulled up into a teasing tangle of twirls and twists behind her head.
It was the kind of hairdo that looked very thrown together and sassy, but she knew that it took a long time to achieve the right look.
Lastly she readjusted the longer loop of pearls to make sure they were resting just so between her tits.
The contrast between the black robe and the bright white pearls on her chest was very striking and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled knowing it would be sure to draw my eye.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly to her reflection thinking she had achieved the look Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway before turning toward the living room.
A tiny part of her mind screamed for her to stop and get out of these clothes but that part was outmatched by a deeper, more primal voice that anxiously awaited what was about to happen.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began walking down the hallway knowing that whatever happened things would probably never be quite the same between her and Durgesh.
She felt herself growing excited as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked from the sleek, sexy fabric flowing past her bare skin.
Her tall heels clicked on the hard wood of the stairs and as she entered the living room.
Ordinarily Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wouldn’t wear shoes to open the presents.
The clicking of her heels made me look up from my magazine when she entered the room.
The look on my face was exactly what she had been hoping for.
My jaw dropped open and I looked at her in surprise for several seconds.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stood still and felt my eyes moving over her.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav watched them move down to her feet and then slowly move back up to her face.
As she had hoped, she noticed that they lingered near her tits, as I seemed to be drawn to the sight of the pearls tickling her cleavage.
My eyes moved ever so slightly without rising from her tits and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav became immediately aware that her nipples had started to grow hard under the slippery silk.
Undoubtedly, it had started simply from the exquisite friction of the fabric on her nipples as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked and her nervousness, but seeing my eyes exploring her and knowing what might happen next certainly helped them tighten up.
They weren’t yet fully hard but they were definitely stiff enough to be seen through her robe.
For a Moment, she felt embarrassed but then realized that this was nothing, compared to what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to do.
“Do you like it?” she asked in a soft, playful voice.
“Wow! Sītā Bhārgav, you look fantastic! I mean, you look better than most of the girls at university,” I answered with surprising honesty.
Hearing my words only stoked her already growing arousal and she knew it was time to act.
“Thanks,” she replied as she glided across the room smoothly on her high heels.
She noticed that I watched her move very carefully.
I didn’t particularly stare at any part of her but rather seemed to take in the whole of her movements.
She knew that the tall heels were causing her hips to sway more than normal and she accentuated that as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked.
I was sitting on her big couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav moved between the couch and the oversized coffee table, until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was standing right next to me.
I was looking up at her with a mixture of emotions in my eyes and on my face.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could easily see the curiosity but was also excited to notice that perhaps there was something else there too.
A certain something about the glimmer in my eye denoted excitement and interest.
Instead of sitting on the couch next to me, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly sat down on the edge of the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was facing me.
After sitting, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly crossed her legs, in something Dr. Sītā Bhārgav couldn’t have planned any better, her robe parted, and slipped open revealing her legs all the way up to just over her knees.
For a split second, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav saw my eyes flash to her bare legs and she felt her nipples grow ever tighter.
I was wearing my usual outfit before I got dressed which was a pair of loose sweats and an old T-shirt.
For a brief Moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wondered what was going on under my sweats.
This was the Moment she had been most troubled with.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, clearly, now had my attention and possibly even had me aroused, but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav didn’t know how to take the next step.
Perhaps it was partly from her own increased desire but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav decided to scrap the speech she had planned and simply go for the very direct approach.
She reached out a hand and placed it on my knee.
We both looked at the spot where her hand rested before looking up at each other.
My face was still a mask of gravity.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav simply gave me a soft, calming smile.
She heard me inhale rapidly when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to let her fingers move around slowly on my knee and then some on my thigh.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued this for a short while as the room filled with a heavy, silent tension.
After slowly sliding across the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now directly in front of me rather than slightly at an angle she placed her other hand on my other knee and began softly rubbing both of my legs at the same time.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still had her legs crossed and knew that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid over, even more of her legs had become exposed so I could now easily see at least halfway up her thighs if I wanted to.
In addition, she had to lean over some to reach me properly and knew that this angle would give me an even better view of her cleavage if I wanted it.
Surely, I had seen more of her body exposed as we lounged around the pool together, but I never would have seen her body so teasing and erotically displayed for me.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav glanced at my lap and quickly noticed a bulge in my pants that hadn’t been there before.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled at me and felt her excitement grow even higher knowing she had given me a hard on.
“Sītā Bhārgav?” I said questioningly.
I didn’t say anything else but the tone of my voice and my expression clearly asked her what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was doing.
“Do you like this?” she asked softly.
“I…but…I can’t…you’re my friend’s wife,” I said gravely in quite clear opinion over what was happening.
“Shhhh,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly replied trying to keep me as calm as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could. “Don’t think like that. I know what it is like to be your age. So curious, so horny. I’m only a woman and you’re only a man.”
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly spoke Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued rubbing my legs, then reached up with her right hand, and brought it down over the bulge in my pants just as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav called me a man.
I smiled gravely even without a little surprise at her touch.
She felt her own excitement grow from the brief contact with my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund through the soft cotton fabric of my pants.
“Did that touch feel good?” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly asked looking up into my face.
I stared back at her with my face still showing gravity over what was happening.
However, there was now no denying the desire that was beginning to burn behind my eyes.
Still, I sat in silence simply staring at her.
Again Dr. Sītā Bhārgav spoke softly and slowly,
“Durgesh, I’ve seen the things you have on your computer. I know what you must do when you are alone looking at those pictures.” She paused as she replaced her right hand on my thigh.
This time her hand landed on the upper part of my thigh only a few inches from my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
She felt the muscles in my leg tense when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav touched me but I didn’t pull away.
“What I can give you is so much more than how that must feel,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said as she again slipped her fingers over to feel my hard Bachhalyā Lund through my pants. “This is my gift for you.”
When Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said that it was like some barrier that I had set up in my mind broke.
I let out a long, quiet moan and threw my head back slightly as her fingers touched me through my pants.
Sensing it was time Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid off the coffee table as she pushed my knees apart.
She knelt on the floor between my legs and reached up to the drawstring of my sweats.
Her long red nails easily grasped the ends of the strings and pulled the knot open.
She moved her hands to my sides and began to pull my sweats off.
I raised my hips off the couch and she pulled them down off my ass.
My Bachhalyā Lund was still stuck inside as I settled back down onto the couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav reached up and lifted them up as she pulled them off until my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund sprang free and stood tall and straight off my lap.
She pulled my sweats off both legs and tossed them aside.
Part of her wanted to begin with my toes and slowly kiss and touch me up my leg but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was so wildly excited and in need of a good fuck that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t able to think of foreplay right now.
Besides, if Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was correct about me, I may last much longer in my obvious excitement before I would cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned forward toward my Bachhalyā Lund staring at it closely.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s husband had been a great lover but his Brāhmañ penis had always been a little shorter and smaller than average.
My was probably only average in size or perhaps a bit larger, but in comparison to her memories of her husband and considering how desperately horny Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was it looked huge and more tempting than anything Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could imagine.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned over my lap and since my Bachhalyā Lund was standing so straight and hard Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was able to take it between her lips without even holding its shaft.
She immediately took about half my length into her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth as I released a near primal indication of ecstasy.
The end came after almost an hour.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had really sucked my Bachhalyā Lund madly and savagely, yet still sophisticated.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav bobbed her head a few times and licked the tip of my Bachhalyā Lund with her tongue.
She had fully intended on doing much, much more.
I called out very erudite and bucked my hips upward gravely as I started to cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel my cum surging through the shaft of my Bachhalyā Lund with her lips an instant before it erupted into her mouth with a force that shocked her.
She planned to take my whole load in her mouth but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was unprepared for the force and sheer volume of my Bachhalyā cum.
Her mouth was almost full after only the first couple of jets.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav struggled to swallow and keep my Bachhalyā Lund inside her mouth as I bucked my hips.
My Bachhalyā Lund was moving in, out and in to her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth, spurting my Bachhalyā cum heavily inside.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav grasped my Bachhalyā shaft with her Bhārgav Brāhmañ hand and began stroking me that only made me lustier again and seemed to intensify my cumming.
Never had Dr. Sītā Bhārgav experienced such a vast amount of cum.
She excitedly watched it spew out of my Bachhalyā Lund for what was a surprisingly long time before I finally stopped.
My last few spurts of cum barely trickled out of my Bachhalyā Lund and as her fingers worked them out they came out in thick globs that immediately ran down until her hand was coated with my Bachhalyā cum.
I looked her in the face again after I stopped cumming.
My eyes glowed with lust and satisfaction.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked back at me.
She had swallowed what was in her mouth and found the taste nasty and intoxicating all at the same time.
Yet, it was the tastiest thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had ever tasted in her life.
Yes, Ramā Bhārgav, her younger sister was correct.
The more she licked it the more she wanted to lick it even more, even more and even more.
Yes, her girlfriends were also correct.
They always talked of its incredible taste.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav always tried to stop them.
However, she herself wanted to talk about it now.
Wasn’t it a miracle?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Shiv Shankar Sharmā approached the door, and from the darkened hallway peered in through the crack.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was standing across the room from me.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed in boxers and a t-shirt.
I seemed a little uncomfortable talking to Pārvatī Pāŧhak in her revealing attire, but at the same Time Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see him looking her over whenever her eyes were averted.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was talking about my Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds, women friends and other similar Musalmān Beauties.
“They really aren’t right for you, and you should try to find someone else.”
“I know, I know,” I said wearily, clearly tired of talking and thinking about it. “But I can’t seem to hit it off with other women so easily and so naturally. I don’t think they find me attractive. The Musalmān Beauties are the women who…”
“Stop that,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife interrupted. “You are a very attractive man. Most women…” she paused. “I too, find you very attractive.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak‘s words gave Shiv Shankar Sharmā a lump in Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s throat.
Intellectually he knew that at an innocent level what she was saying was perfectly true.
He also knew that if she was crossing the bounds of platonic friendship it was not because she was really attracted to me, but rather to help Shiv Shankar Sharmā and their utmost neglected Brāhmañ community.
Hell, the progress of Brāhmañ society is however always dependent on Bachhalyā Brahmkanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī pairs.
Durgesh is so important now that no community can survive without having its female representatives on his nude Bachhalyā Hindu male lap.
She couldn’t blame Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak had herself reached the same conclusion whenever she thought about it.
But at the same Time, the words seemed to clutch at Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s heart.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was going to burst in, but he thought that maybe Pārvatī Pāŧhak could accomplish her purpose merely by building me up verbally.
“Great, the one other woman who finds me attractive is already married, and to my best friend at that.”
I seemed to become even more dejected.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak responded quickly to my discouragement.
“Even still, I have often thought about being with you.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā assumed she was just try to convince me I was attractive to the Brāhmañ Beauties too, but still Shiv Shankar Sharmā was thrown for a loop.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, you’re making me uncomfortable,” I muttered.
“Why? Haven’t you ever thought about being with me, making love to me?”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God, I…” I swallowed hard and then seemed unable to continue. “Pārvatī Pāŧhak, why are you teasing me like this?”
In the hallway, Shiv Shankar Sharmā cringed.
This was going worse than expected.
Rather than building me up for Brāhmañ Beauties, it seemed as if Pārvatī Pāŧhak were tearing me down instead.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak realized that things were moving in the wrong direction.
She again upped the ante.
“Who the hell says I am teasing you?” She asked sensuously, and then in one fluid motion she reached down and pulled her nightgown over her head and off.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh G-God, you are so beautiful,” I smiled as I surveyed Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s naked Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took two small steps towards me, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā reached out for the door.
“What about Shiv Shankar Sharmā?” I asked suddenly looking toward the door.
Instinctively, Shiv Shankar Sharmā recoiled and pressed back against the far wall of the hallway.
“He knows I am down here.”
“I-I don’t understand. Are you guys swingers?”
“No silly, Shiv Shankar Sharmā just knows how madly attracted I am to you. I begged him to let me come see you as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s birthday present to me. You know very well I have not been with another man before, neither since I met Shiv Shankar Sharmā.”
“Really? I mean, not about never having been with another man, but about being attracted to me?”
“Why else would I be here dressed this way?”
We both laughed cunningly, yet not lewdly, sophisticatedly instead.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was again going to burst, but then he glanced at my face.
It was radiant.
For the first Time in years, Shiv Shankar Sharmā saw me smile a real smile.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was frozen again.
“I want to make love to you,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said suddenly, bluntly.
And with those words, Shiv Shankar Sharmā knew he could not stop it now.
Too much had been said, and if he burst in now, Shiv Shankar Sharmā would be crushed, Pārvatī Pāŧhak mortified, and the entire friendship destroyed.
Moreover, it would be even far more destructive to their respective Brāhmañ societies than it were if he hadn’t started it.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak, his immensely faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife has gone now to Durgesh for ever.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā and his Brāhmañ friends had always criticized their Musalmān friends for deliberately cuckolding themselves for their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies and me using me as present to their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies on their birthdays, anniversaries etcetera.
Nevertheless, what he had done today?
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was now standing above me.
I took her hands in mine.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, I can’t. You are a dear friend, but I just can’t do this to Shiv Shankar Sharmā and Shiv Shankar Sharmā can’t do it to you.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s hopes soared.
Good old I was going to save him after all.
“I want you,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied simply.
“Shhh, don’t say a word,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife interrupted as she placed a finger across my lips.
“Just close your eyes, and pretend it’s a dream,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak whispered as she broke the kiss and fell to her knees.
For a moment, it seemed like I was going to object, but then slowly I complied.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak gently massaged my well-defined quads, and then slowly pressed my legs apart.
Leaning forward, Pārvatī Pāŧhak trailed soft, wet kisses up and down my inner thighs.
I moaned softly, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak ran a hand up my leg until it rested on my crotch.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak moved forward deliberately, kissing me, rubbing her body against my legs, letting me feel her bare, erect Pāŧhak Brāhmañ nipples against my Bachhalyā Hindu skin.
At the same Time, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started moving the hand on my Bachhalyā groin in languid circles.
As she got closer in, Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted up my t-shirt with her other hand and started kissing my strong, hairy chest.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak ran her tongue over my stomach, teasing my bellybutton, and tracing my hair as it thickened over my abdomen.
She pressed her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ chest between my Bachhalyā legs, twisting and turned sensuously as Pārvatī Pāŧhak rubbed against me.
With my eyes still closed, I reached out and cautiously ran my fingers through her hair and traced the shape of her ears and cheeks.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak straightened up for a moment and pushed my t-shirt up over my head removing it and tossing it on the bed.
Then Pārvatī Pāŧhak leaned back, grabbed my boxers with both hands, and began to ease them off.
I accommodated her by lifting meself off the bed slightly, and then I was as naked as Pārvatī Pāŧhak herself was.*
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak pulled my shorts past my feet, I got a look between my legs.
Although Shiv Shankar Sharmā had known me for twenty-five years, Shiv Shankar Sharmā had never seen me naked, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā had never known how well endowed I was.
But there, between my legs was unquestionably the most impressively piece of Bachhalyā Hindu manhood Shiv Shankar Sharmā had ever seen in real life.
“Hey Bhagvān! Oh God, what a stunning cock! Bachhalyā Hindu Lund, isn’t it? ” Pārvatī Pāŧhak exclaimed when she finally looked up.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took it in her hand and stroked it up and down.
Her hand looked tiny against my bulk.
And when Pārvatī Pāŧhak placed one hand above the other, a lot of my shaft and my entire oversized glans were still visible.
As impressive as my length was my incredible thickness.
At the touch of her hand, my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund went completely rigid, although thankfully it did not expand any further.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak seemed to be in pleasant shock.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me, and then back down into my lap.
I’d never known Pārvatī Pāŧhak to have a size fetish, but face to face with my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund Pārvatī Pāŧhak was unquestionably excited.
Her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ face flushed, and she eagerly started kissing me wetly up and down my Bachhalyā shaft even as she continued to pump me with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ fist.
I moaned softly as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife fondled me.
Encouraged, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started licking me up and down, with slow, wide Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue lashes.
My huge Bachhalyā Hindu Lund glistened with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ saliva, and as Pārvatī Pāŧhak stroked me up and down, her hand made a loud squishing sound.
“That feels good,” I moaned.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak continued licking my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund like a ice cream cone for a while, and then Pārvatī Pāŧhak trailed soft wet kisses down my Bachhalyā shaft until Pārvatī Pāŧhak came to my scrotum.
One at a Time, Pārvatī Pāŧhak took my heavy Bachhalyā balls into her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, making me shiver with pleasure.
Then kissing her way back up my length, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started kissing the head of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund, her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue playfully lapping at my Bachhalyā precum as it leaked from my opening.
Still stroking me up and down with both hands now, Pārvatī Pāŧhak opened her quivering red crimson Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lips wide and took the tip of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth.
Slowly Pārvatī Pāŧhak started bobbing up and down, taking me deeper and deeper until she had the top third of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund inside her.
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak fucked my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund with her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, Pārvatī Pāŧhak made loud slurping, sucking sounds, her cheeks hollowing out as Pārvatī Pāŧhak massaged me with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue.
Without warning, I suddenly gasped, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak started making loud gulping sounds.
It took me a second to realize I had cum in her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I muttered over and over.
But Pārvatī Pāŧhak did not seem upset.
To the contrary she kept sucking me hard, seemingly wanting to milk me dry.
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak continued to lick and slurp my Bachhalyā meat, I ran my hands through her long, luxurious hair, and started moaning,
“Thank you, thank you.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted her head for a second.
Her quivering red crimson Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lips were coated with my Bachhalyā Hindu Vīrý, which ran down the sides of her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, and connected her to my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
My Bachhalyā Hindu Lund was still leaking significant amount of seed, which flowed down the shaft and over her hands.
It was devastating for Shiv Shankar Sharmā to see Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife kneeling in front of me, performing oral sex, her hands and wedding band covered with my Bachhalyā Hindu sperm.
“I’ve never seen this much cum,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak gushed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak licked the cum from her fingers, and then enthusiastically started cleaning my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God, it’s been so long. So long,” she moaned in delight.
Although my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund seemed to soften after I came, Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s delligent attention quickly changed that.
In less than five minutes, My Bachhalyā organ was again in launch position.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me.
“You seem excited,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak cooed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak stood up and approached me.
I needed no more encouragement.
I leaned forward and buried my face in her closely trimmed muff, slurping at her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot vigorously.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned, “do you feel, Durgesh darling, méré Bachhalyā Hindu Piyā, Brahmkanyāsām Brahmāñīsānch Bachhalyā Patidévah, Bachhalyā Hindu husband of us Brāhmañ Beauties! How wet I am?”
As if to answer, I reached around and slipped my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund into her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot from behind.
Her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot made an obscene squishing sound as I fucked her wet Pāŧhak Brāhmañ hole with my ever aggressive Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed my waist and pushed me deeper.
“I want you more and more inside me, Bachhalyā Piyā!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak grunted urgently.*
I sat back on the bed, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak climbed onto my Bachhalyā lap facing me.
Reaching between her legs, Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed my thick Bachhalyā shaft and guided it into her waiting Pāŧhak Brāhmañ snatch.
Then slowly she impaled herself with on my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned, her head swaying back and forth. “I feel so fucking full.”
And then Pārvatī Pāŧhak made a soft, sensuous gurgling sound, and buried her face into my chest.
“I’m cumming,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak whimpered, as her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ body convulsed over and over.
More relaxed than ever, Pārvatī Pāŧhak melted into me, my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund now completely buried inside her.
“That feels so good,” she moaned.
Then Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me, teary-eyed.
“I love your Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.” And then after a few moments, she added, “Durgesh darling, méré Bachhalyā Hindu Piyā, Brahmkanyāsām Brahmāñīsānch Bachhalyā Patidévah, Bachhalyā Hindu husband of us Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Beauties! I want to feel you cum inside me.”
I seemed happy to oblige.
I started thrusting my hips up and down, slowly fucking Pārvatī Pāŧhak in and out.
Once Pārvatī Pāŧhak recovered from her orgasm, Pārvatī Pāŧhak responded by lifting herself up and lowering herself onto my Bachhalyā shaft.
As we got used to each other’s movement, we started fucking hard and fast.
“Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned as I pounded into her.
Her cries of passion redoubled when I leaned forward and started squeezing her big Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tits into my Bachhalyā palms.
Then I reached around and grabbed a Pāŧhak Brāhmañ ass cheek in each Bachhalyā hand, spreading her apart, and giving me the leverage to fuck her harder and deeper.
It also gave me a completely unobstructed view of my thick Bachhalyā pole pounding into her exposed Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
As we fucked each other’s brains out, we started kissing passionately.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak loved to kiss, and has often told Shiv Shankar Sharmā Pārvatī Pāŧhak considered deep kissing even more intimate.
And now, as Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched, Pārvatī Pāŧhak was kissing me so hard, Shiv Shankar Sharmā thought Pārvatī Pāŧhak might swallow my Bachhalyā lips.
We were both moaning loudly through our intertwined tongues.
Then suddenly, Pārvatī Pāŧhak gasped and threw back her head.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak growled through clenched teeth as Pārvatī Pāŧhak came again.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt sick to Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s stomach.
In all Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s years with Pārvatī Pāŧhak, she had never cum more than once during sex.
After Pārvatī Pāŧhak stopped shaking, she became much more passive.
I started fucking her more slowly.
I lifted her up until my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund was almost completely out, and then slowly lowered her onto my thick Bachhalyā shaft giving her my full Bachhalyā length with my each aggressive Bachhalyā stroke.
“This is so good,” she sighed again.
“Mmmm, yes,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak again responded, clamping onto my Bachhalyā mouth and kissing me deeply again.
By the clock on the nightstand, and continued passing of days and nights, Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched as Pārvatī Pāŧhak and I made love for over a month nonstop, yet it seemed to Pārvatī Pāŧhak, and as well as to Shiv Shankar Sharmā, as if it was a lifeTime.
Neither Pārvatī Pāŧhak had ever experienced such an incredible miracle, nor Shiv Shankar Sharmā had ever witnessed.
At the end, we started fucking fervently again.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak put her hands on My shoulders and ground her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot hard against my Bachhalyā crotch.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak leaned forward and started sucking my neck, moving on to nibbling my ear lobes.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak started whimpering in my ear:
“You feel so good. I love your big Bachhalyā Hindu Lund. God, I love your big Bachhalyā Hindu Lund. I want to feel you cum inside me.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s intoxicating sexy talk seemed to get me even hotter.
I started pumping my hips faster and faster, until my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund became blur pistoning into Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife’s stretched Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
Amazingly, as I raced towards my climax, Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s sounds of passions got louder and louder.
“Oh yeah,” I growled, my whole Bachhalyā body tensing suddenly.
“Hey Bhavān! God, I can feel you coming,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak managed to grunt out before Pārvatī Pāŧhak climaxed yet again.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak draped herself across my chest, and we both slowly pumped our hips as we enjoyed the afterglow.
“That was amazing,” I said softly.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied, “I’ve never felt anything like it. A woman is an idiot to give you up. You are an amazing lover, méré Bachhalyā Piyā.”
I smiled brightly, but then a slight frown came across my face.
“Now! You’re gonna have to go soon, I think.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak nodded her head bubbling with immense ecstasy.
“Hey! Not soon, after a complete month of nonstop incredible sex with you. I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“What are you going to tell Shiv Shankar Sharmā?”
“Durgesh, my absolutely amazing Bachhalyā lover, all I want to know is that you are happy, and that you understand how special you are. Did Shiv Shankar Sharmā interrupt us? No! Not even in a complete month of our nonstop sex. What the hell more proof you want from him that he hasn’t any objection if we both have as much sex as we damn love to? He would have killed us if it were Not You. Understand? Knock ’em dead at that fuck session tomorrow.”
With that, Pārvatī Pāŧhak slowly lifted herself up, sliding my thick Bachhalyā Hindu Lund back out of her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
My Bachhalyā Hindu Lund slapped wetly against my thigh.
“Sleep well,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said, as Pārvatī Pāŧhak reached for her nightgown and started toward the door, her eyes still eyeing my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund lustily.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
Well, they used me right from the beginning.
Almost the entire extraordinary Musalmān Beauties who were hornier than the rest of them, never looked at me as a Just Eighteen Just Adult Hindu boy.
They always tried to take advantage of me sexually.
Yet, how the hell can, I blame them?
Am I not today, what they made me?
Yes, they were not making me.
I know it today.
Yet, being Just Eighteen Just Adult I wasn’t as skillful sexually as I am today.
But they were.
They were already married.
Yes, they were the Ammīs and Bājīs of my friends, the Ammīs and Bājīs of my beloveds, etcetera, yet they taught me how I could satisfy them sexually with my Just Eighteen Just Adult Uncut Hindu Cock.
Yes, I called them Ammīs and/or Bājīs, respecting their such relations with my friends, beloveds etcetera.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t go against them.
Yes, they were pleasure seekers with me.
So many of them didn’t love me actually.
It was a purely sexual relationship.
Can it alter the fact that they taught me how I could satisfy even the mature Musalmān Beauties sexually?
I damn care if they were cheating their husbands, fathers, brothers and/or their other male relatives/guardians.
Wasn’t it their own problem?
And if they couldn’t handle their own problem how the hell was I responsible for it?
It was late.
Yet I couldn’t help it.
Nishāt Zahīr didn’t allow me to pull out my Uncut Hindu Cock from her extremely ravenous ardent Musalmān Cunt.
How could I leave her unsatisfied?
I never left any of my women, whether young or mature, without satisfying her optimum.
It was a sin in my eyes.
No man has a right to leave any woman unsatisfied sexually once he started lovemaking with her.
That’s why the women cheated their man.
Even then, I came home with a painfully aching hard-on.
Eīshān Eīshān shammā shamīshān!
How utmost hypersexual a Just Eighteen Just Adult young Hindu man I was!
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān was working late.
I called her Ammī.
Actually, she was my friend, Muħammad Yåqūb’s Ammī.
I went straight to the bathroom.
In my haste to squeeze myself, I forgot to close and lock the bathroom door.
I yanked my pants down, grabbed some of Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s hand lotion and started stroking my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock, immediately.
I needed some relief quick.
I had just started stroking my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock when I noticed a pair of Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s soiled panties lying on the bathroom floor.
I picked them up and placed them to my Uncut Hindu Cock.
It was intoxicating.
Moreover, the fragrance of her ardent Musalmān Cunt was emanating from it.
My mind was a blur as I held Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s panties against my Uncut Hindu Cock and furiously stroked my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock with her panties surrounding it.
Naked visions of Al Siddīqah Al Salmān were flowing through my mind, when suddenly, I heard a loud gasp.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān was standing in the bathroom doorway with her hand over her extremely beautiful mouth.
There was nothing more embarrassing than having your friend’s mother catch you her dirty panties surrounding your Uncut Hindu Cock while you are squeezing.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān ran from the room immediately.
I pulled my pants up and quickly followed her trying to explain.
She told me she understood what I was doing, but I should have had the decency at least to lock the door.
We decided immediately, it was time for us to get a bigger place.
The next morning we went looking for a bigger place to live.
Luckily, a friend of hers, Lubnā Imrān, knew someone who had a small two-bedroom house Al Siddīqah Al Salmān could rent.
It needed some work and only had one bathroom but it was quite affordable for Al Siddīqah Al Salmān.
After inspecting it, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān decided to rent it.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān told Lubnā Imrān she would take it and we set about fixing it up.
After a new coat of paint and some minor repairs, the house was quite livable.
It was strange when we first moved into Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s new home because I’d never had my own bedroom at Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s household.
It was actually quite lonely without having Al Siddīqah Al Salmān lying next to me in bed.
Pretty soon though, everything seemed to get back to normal except for one thing, I still couldn’t get the intoxicating smell from her panties and the visions of her extremely beautiful naked ardent Musalmān body, out of my mind.
There was a tension between the two of us, after the bathroom incident that, never quite went away.
Years passed and Al Siddīqah Al Salmān got a promotion at work.
She would have to work more hours but the money was good.
I brought a couple of old computers home and totally rebuilt them.
I gave one of them to Al Siddīqah Al Salmān and taught her how to use it.
She seemed to really enjoy the computer and it didn’t take long before she had learned how to pay the bills with online banking.
More and more; my sexual fantasies were focused on Al Siddīqah Al Salmān.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān stood about 5 foot 6 with a slim figure and a perky set of tits.
She had long silky brown hair that flowed over her shoulders.
At the young age of 41, time had treated her well and I thought she was the most absolutely beautiful woman in the world.
The woman I wanted more than life itself was living in the same house with me, yet I could not touch her.
I was living a hell on earth.
On my 21st birthday, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān took me out to dinner.
For the first time since she caught me squeezing my Uncut Hindu Cock with her panties around it, I didn’t feel quite as much tension between us.
We went to a little private club in town and had a really good time.
After dinner we went to the local watering hole.
After a few drinks, a slow song was playing on the jukebox.
I asked Al Siddīqah Al Salmān if she would like to dance.
At first, she said no but I was persistent and she finally agreed.
By the time we made it to the dance floor, the song had ended.
I could see the disappointment in her eyes so I put a dollar in the jukebox and played some more music. When she gently laid her head on my shoulder, I was in heaven.
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān had put her head on my shoulder, not as my friend’s Ammī would have.
On the other hand, was it my positive fantasy only?
I wasn’t sure.
We were swaying to the music and everything was going great until I developed a hard-on.
To my surprise, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān pulled herself closer to me.
We danced close together for a long time until I’m leaned down and tried to kiss her.
She pulled away with tears in her eyes and said.
“I think it’s best we call it a night.”
We went back to the bar and she finished her drinks without another word being spoken between us.
I paid our tab and we went home to our separate bedrooms.
Distraught, I went online to one of my favorite websites.
It was in an incest role-play site, where people go to live out their fantasies.
My username was EverbestFucker20.
The previous night I had left a message on the forum asking if any women would like to exchange erotic emails.
Lucky enough there was an answer in my inbox.
It was from a lady whose username was iwantDurgesh42.
I looked at her profile and was extremely surprised to find out she lived in my hometown.
Her e-mail read like this.
“Dear EverbestFucker20, I would very much like to exchange erotic emails with you. I’m a sexually frustrated mother and have been, ever since I caught my son’s friend squeezing. His big hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock is implanted in my mind. I am looking forward to your reply. Extremely horny, iwantDurgesh42”
I was ready to bust a nut when I read her e-mail. Almost instantaneously, I set about sending her my reply.
I wanted to make a good impression, naturally.
Thinking carefully a lot, I began to type my reply. “Dear Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, I have wanted you for such a very long time.
When you walked in on me while I was squeezing, it was you I was thinking of.
I was imagining your juicy lips wrapped around my big hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
I wanted to pull you close to me and give you all of the love you deserve.
Your Allah has blessed you with the beauty of a goddess and if ever given the chance, I would love to ravish you. I am dying to kiss your sweet lips and luscious Musalmān breasts.
I would slowly kiss my way down your body until I reached your Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān treasure box, the place from whence my friend came.
I would pay homage to it with my gentle Hindu kisses.
I would then kiss your clit until I had you moaning for my hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
When you are ready, I would place the head of my big hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock at the entrance of your inviting pussy, ever so slowly, I would descend deep inside of you. With hard deep strokes, I would thrust my hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock deep into your hot wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy over and over until our ashvinātam coupling was finally consummated.
After our lovemaking session is through, I would hold you in my arms and never let you go.
We would finally be one, together in love, forever.
I love you Al Siddīqah Al Salmān and I’m looking forward to hearing from you very soon.”
I sent my e-mail to her but I really didn’t expect a reply.
The last few times I sent emails to women who answered my ad, I never heard from them again.
I decided I would watch some porn and squeeze before I went to bed, when suddenly I saw my inbox flashing.
I opened it immediately and got the surprise of my life.
She had already answered me back.
“Dear Durgesh, my Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy is soaking wet.
Ever since I opened your e-mail, I have been masturbating.
I need to cum so bad!
What I really need though, is your big, fat, hard, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock deep inside my sopping wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
To hell with role-play, can you meet me somewhere tomorrow evening?
I have only three rules, we both must wear masks and the lights in the room must be very dim; also, you are to be totally naked and ready to please me.
If you agree with my terms, I will be excitedly waiting your reply. Love, your friend’s horny Ammī.”*
Immediately, I picked up the phone and made a reservation at the local Holiday Inn.
Once I had the reservation, I began typing.
“Of course I can meet you tomorrow evening. There is a Holiday Inn on route 64, there will be a room key left for you under the name Muħammad Yåqūb.
I will be on pins and needles until I see you tomorrow.
I am looking forward to finally giving you the love you deserve. Love, your extremely hard, Durgesh.”
I was so excited I squeezed three times before I could finally fall to sleep.
The next day seemed to go on forever.
I couldn’t wait to get off work so I could go home and get ready to meet my mysterious lover.
I had just got home from work and grabbed a juice out of the refrigerator when Al Siddīqah Al Salmān came into the kitchen.
She was practically glowing.
I told her.
“Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, what’s going on, you look absolutely stunning!”
She touched me on the arm and said.
“I don’t know, maybe, it’s because I have a date this evening.”
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān had not been out on a date in nearly 5 years.
Not only was I stunned, I was happy too.
I immediately asked her.
“Is he somebody I know?”
“No honey, you haven’t ever met him because even I haven’t met him yet. Lubnā Imrān from work set me up on a blind date. She said I needed to get out more often.” Al Siddīqah Al Salmān answered me.
I could feel my face gleaming.
I was so happy.
“You mean to tell me, you are going out with someone you don’t even know! He could be a rapist for all you know! Are you at least going to let me meet him?!”
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān gave me a disappointed look and said emphatically!
“No, you are not going to meet him! I don’t grill you about the little floozies you date! Listen here young man, I’m a grown up woman and I can take care of myself! You are just going to have to trust my judgment!”
Before storming out of the room, I yelled out!
“That’s fine but don’t expect me to be here waiting on you to come home! I have a date myself and believe me; I plan on getting lucky tonight!”
I needed to blow off some steam so I went to my room and started working out with my weights.
I was about 15 minutes into my workout when there was a knock on the door.
It was Al Siddīqah Al Salmān and she wanted to talk.
I unlocked the door and told her to come on in.
When she sat down on my bed I began imagining holding her tight and ravishing her fantastic Musalmān body.
While my mind was focusing on all of the beautiful things I would love to do with my beautiful Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, I didn’t realize she was already talking to me.
I was brought out of my daydream when I felt Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s hand touch mine.
After she motioned for me to sit beside her, she told me.
“Durgesh, I’m sorry for raising my voice to you earlier. I know you are only concerned for my safety, but really honey, I am a big girl and your friend’s mama can take care of herself.”
“I know Al Siddīqah Al Salmān; I think my problem is I’m just a little worried. You are so beautiful that I guess I’m afraid I’ll lose you.” I explained to her.
I saw Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s eyes light up when I told her she was beautiful.
She looked into my eyes and asked.
“Do you really think I’m beautiful or are you just saying that because I’m your friend’s mother?”
Immediately, I replied.
“Of course I think you are beautiful! If I had a pick of any woman in the world to spend the rest of my life with, my pick would be you!”
I could see some small tears forming in her eyes and once again, I felt the sexual tension in the air.
Our faces were only mere inches apart when I lowered my head to kiss her.
Just before my lips touched hers, she turned her head and stammered.
“Uh, Uh, I have to go. You, you have a good time tonight and be careful. I love you, son.”
I knew I had blown my chance because she practically ran from the room.
The thing about it was, I did not want just to fuck her, I wanted to make love to her.
I made up my mind, come tomorrow morning; I was going to tell her exactly how I really felt about her.
When Al Siddīqah Al Salmān left the house, I was still worried at her because she was still going out on her date.
I didn’t really feel like going out to meet my mysterious lover so I went to the website to see if she was online, but she wasn’t there.
I knew I had to at least go to the hotel and explain myself so I took a shower, got dressed and headed to the Holiday Inn.
After I checked into the hotel, I went to the bar to have a few juices.
I was about to head up to my room when I saw Al Siddīqah Al Salmān’s car pull in the parking lot.
I thought, ‘I can’t believe it, she came here to meet her fuck buddy. Fuck it; if she can fuck anybody she wants, I can too.’
I went upstairs and set about following all of my mysterious lover’s demands.
After I turned all of the lamps on low, I pulled the covers back on the bed and undressed.
I turned the television on and started searching for an X rated movie to help me get in the mood.
When I finally found one that suited me, I lay down on the bed and began to squeeze my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
I was so excited it took no time for my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock to become fully hard.
I was thinking I might go ahead before my lover arrived when there was a sudden knock on the door.
My mysterious lover was here.
I reached over to the bedside table and quickly put my mask on.
I could not see her real well in the dimly lit room but I could see enough to know she had a fine body.
Without saying a word, she undressed.
As she came closer to the bed, I started to say hello but she motioned for me to be silent.
I had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth and this time would be no different.
The first thing she did was, climb upon the bed and immediately start sucking my rock hard unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock.
She took inch by inch of my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock into her warm inviting mouth.
Once she had all of my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock inside of her mouth, she began bobbing her head up and down my fat unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock with such precision; I knew I would not be able to last long.
Each time her mouth descended on my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock she would roll my balls in her hand.
She was giving me the most glorious blowjob I had ever experienced in my young life.
I was holding on pretty well until she did something amazing, when she arrived at the head of my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock one more time, she took her tongue and tried to insert it into my piss-hole.
It was an amazing sensation and sent me over the edge.
I screamed. “Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Ooohhh my Godd, I’m Cumming Al Siddīqah Al Salmān! I’m Cumming in your mouth! Ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh nooo!”
Upon hearing me scream, she pulled her head from my unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Cock and the first blast of cum shot straight up in the air and landed on my chest.
As I looked down to my chest I heard a shriek.
“Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Oh my God, it can’t be! Durgesh, is that you?!”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Seven movements
7. Ashvinātam Gangbang Club
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Amīnah Zahīr watched Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand gravely.
“I appreciate your manly vigor, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“Thank you, Umm Al Åālmīn.”
“You are watching my live in relationship with Durgesh yourself personally, yet you are accusing me so bravely.”
“Durgesh never approved of the Cuckold Your Musalmān husband movement of Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself. ” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sophisticatedly, “Did he?”
“What do you mean?”
“Durgesh never approved of the ‘Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club’ movement of Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan too. ” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sophisticatedly again, “Did he?”
Amīnah Zahīr laughed.
“Naåīmah Bājī, he thinks Durgesh is right and you are wrong.”
“That’s right,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled triumphantly, “Durgesh Jījū and Naåīmah Bājī love each other and they are husband and wife now, despite their thirty two years age difference. Naåīmah Bājī is furious to Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn. She wants them Cuckolds and humiliated immensely until they aren’t True Musalmīn. Durgesh Jījū hates such an attitude even to the Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn.”
“And you think Durgesh is right and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is wrong?” Amīnah Zahīr watched Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand scornfully.
“Is there anything wrong in it?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled patronizingly.
Amīnah Zahīr blurted.
“You are right, Naåīmah Bājī. You are always right. Even Hindus are not with us.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled serenely.
“Control yourself, Amīnah Zahīr. Despite it, we are using Hindus successfully to establish our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Aren’t we?”*
In previous years the exceptionally attractive ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives had tanned topless, however this year, Rukħsānah Aslam felt odd, being the only wife there, so she left the top on.
Imrān Waħīd and I were talking.
Imrān Waħīd was drinking beer in the boat’s cockpit, while I was giving him company with drinking juice.
We had been friends for over fifteen years.
Our wives had been college roommates and were also close friends.
I was especially watchful as my friend’s extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wife undid her top to keep from getting tan lines on her back.
Since Rukħsānah Aslam was lying with her head toward the cockpit, I enjoyed talking to her because she had to raise her head slightly to answer and usually showed some cleavage.
On one occasion, when she raised up a little higher than necessary, I thought I saw a nipple.
I was already enjoying the trip.
It was early September.
We were making our annual sail from North Carolina to the Bahamas, where we would leave the boat for the winter.
Usually there were four of us, but this year, due to a work related issue, my ‘wife’, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was not able to come with us.
Rukħsānah Aslam felt a relief when she heard Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t accompanying us this time.
Despite the fact that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was her childhood friend, Rukħsānah Aslam always hated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ever-dominant nature.
Wasn’t it a fact that Rukħsānah Aslam was actually jealous of her miraculously utmost successful childhood friend, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?*
Rukħsānah Aslam must be at least sincere to herself.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never hid the fact from anyone that she loved Durgesh madly despite I was thirty-two years older than Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Rukħsānah Aslam never wanted to be one of my women despite my immense success in almost every field.
Rukħsānah Aslam hated Hindus.
“If you keep on your friendship with that immensely dirty sex maniac Hindu multi zillionaire, Durgesh, Imrān Waħīd, you would soon find your every beautiful Musalmān houselady is being fucked by him, including me too.”
“Nonsense, Rukħsānah Aslam. Durgesh is the ever best friend we Musalmīn do have.” Imrān Waħīd was immensely angry with his wife, “Stop being jealous to your childhood friend Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. She offered Durgesh to you too, but it was you…”
“I hate that Hindu sex maniac.” Rukħsānah Aslam flared at her extremely damn fool Musalmān husband.
Imrān Waħīd smiled.
“Well, your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends love my immensely successful Hindu friend, Durgesh. Don’t they?”
“They are crazy for his money.” Rukħsānah Aslam said scornfully.
“And why the hell shouldn’t they be?” Imrān Waħīd smiled teasing Rukħsānah Aslam.
“Sex should never be for money. It’s prostitution.”
“So you think all your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends are prostitutes because they have sex with my friend, Durgesh, for his money?”
“Well, aren’t they, at least somewhat?”
“Imrān Waħīd, I am surprised.”
“Your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends are not alone who enjoy sex with Durgesh. Most of the Musalmān Beauties I know enjoy sex with Durgesh.”
“And you are proud of it?”
“Come out of your ever harmful communalism, Rukħsānah Aslam.” Imrān Waħīd said scornfully, “It has always harmed us Musalmīn too much.”*
Amīnah Zahīr smiled at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She was now on her knees.
I was fucking Amīnah Zahīr now from her glorious teen behind.
“I’m doubtful, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, whether we actually establish our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“Nonsense, Durgesh has to be with us. The entire Vedic Monotheist Hindus are with us. Even the traditional Hindus are with us.”
“But the Brāhmañ Beauties are opposing us, the Savarñ Beauties are opposing us.” Amīnah Zahīr looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gravely.
“The Brāhmañ Beauties want Bachhalyās and the Savarñ Beauties want Vedic Monotheist Hindus who were born Dalits, the downtroddens. That’s what Kr’ñvanto Vishvamāryam, Dharm Santānam, Dharm Sansthñpan for them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only the Brāhmañ Beauties and Savarñ Beauties could be managed. A large number of them is already with us. They haven’t any problem with our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
Amīnah Zahīr looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan incredulously.
She changed the subject abruptly.
Looked at Pranav Yogendr Divyanand,
“So you say I knew Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?”
“Sure. Haven’t you?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I was quite friendly with Al Samīnah Al Qāsim? I talked her out of getting a divorce from her husband. Told her that if she’d sit tight and let her husband think she’d secured a divorce, then when Imām Muħammad Ħasan had found some other interest he could be made to pay a lot of money for a settlement?”
“That’s what I say.”
“Have you heard of something called defamation of character?”
“If you can’t prove what you are claiming that’s what you have to face.”
“I can prove it.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled disarmingly.
There was a silence for several seconds.
Amīnah Zahīr kept her teenager big yet heavy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks thrusting into my nude Hindu lap.
My legendary Uncut Hindu Cock kept vanishing into Amīnah Zahīr’s teen tiny Musalmān Cunt to my balls, coming out until only its head remained inside and then again buried deepest unto my balls.
Amīnah Zahīr was enjoying our lovemaking enormously.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand continued to say,
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim came down to Ved Nagar on the pretext that her husband, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was here. It was an early hour this morning. She stopped in here and had her gasoline tank filled. In the meantime when her gasoline tank was being filled, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim enjoyed sex with Jījū.”
“Why?” Amīnah Zahīr asked sarcastically, “Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt was tighter than even my teenager Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt? Or, you think Durgesh is fed up of me at my so early teen age?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Amīnah Zahīr patiently.
“Jījū never enjoyed you Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties. He enjoys the Musalmān Beauties of his own age more.”
“Nonsense, you mean Durgesh is not enjoying lovemaking with me? Only I am enjoying his Uncut Hindu Cock in my teenager Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt?”
“If not, why the Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh movement is there?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sharply, “Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped in here and had her gasoline tank filled. Jījū filled her own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tank too with his Hindu Vīrý. I don’t know what Al Samīnah Al Qāsim told you, or what you told her. Nevertheless I do know when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim started from here she was immensely satisfied sexually, physically and emotionally. Her bodyguard was with her. Ǻbdul Raħmān was not an ordinary bodyguard. He was a colonel in Her Excellency Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s personal secret service. Colonel Ǻbdul Raħmān was a Commando. He drove down the road about two miles, stopped her limousine in a parking place off by the side of the road and was murdered.”*
I had been with Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā for two days now.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā prepared for bed.
They compared notes, and agreed I needed their help..
“That little fucking Musalmān bitches,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak finally stammered, using a rare invective referring to my Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends. “They totally screw with his mind.”
“Well, it isn’t just his Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends. I mean, they are just being their usual self. Most guys would have been able to shrug it off after a while. But his Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends are his first and almost only love, so they have a disproportionate impact on Durgesh.”
“What do you mean only love? I mean, sure, they make love with Durgesh, but Durgesh is, what, 34, he must have had some other significant relationships.”
“I don’t think so. I mean, he and I have been friends for a long Time, and I don’t remember him really dating anyone else mostly other than needy Musalmān Beauties. For all I know, the Musalmān Beauties might literally be only women he ever slept with happily.”
“Hey Bhagvān, what an impression he must have of other women.”
“Well, it’s not as if he doesn’t know any better. I know he thinks the world of you. Moreover, he’s a smart guy. Nevertheless, yeah, emotionally, Durgesh is almost a cripple except with ever ravenous Musalmān Beauties because he almost never dated other women much. In addition, he built up this notion in his mind about how great it would be when he was with other women. I mean, I hate to psychoanalyze a friend, but there it is. Durgesh needs to be with some non Muslim women if he’s ever going to put Musalmān Beauties behind him and get on with his life, as he should. His Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends are blinding him constantly against other communities. It’s not good for a Mayor to be so partial to any particular society. Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan both are using Durgesh for the benefits of their own community.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked at Shiv Shankar Sharmā thoughtfully. “I like Durgesh a lot, and he’s both sweet and handsome, but I can’t see him ever finding a good relationship. It’s a catch-22. Until he comes out of his shell, other women will stay clear, and the ones who don’t probably have enough of their own problems to make things worse.”
“I wish we could do something,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied sadly, “I wish we could get someone to seduce him or something, but I just don’t know anyone who’d be willing to do that. It’s a lot to ask a friend.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s words trailed off as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s mind wrapped around an idea.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak seemed to look right through Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
“You want me to seduce him.” She said it ambiguously, part observation, part rebuke, part question, and part offer.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā paused. Just for a second, but it was long enough to confirm it.
“N-no,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said unsteadily. “I don’t, not really…” But he didn’t know what to say next.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just stared at his extremely beautiful brilliant smart Brāhmañ wife.
She struck Shiv Shankar Sharmā as incredibly beautiful at that moment.
She was relatively tall for a woman at 5’7″, and her body was both athletic and voluptuous.
She has long, lean legs, and a hard, flat stomach, but at the same Time, she has large, high breasts, and a rounded Pāŧhak Brāhmañ ass and full hips.
She was wearing a diaphanous nightgown, which seemed to call particular attention to her peaks and valleys.
As part of the pre-bed routine, she had brushed out her long, full, brown hair, and it flowed over her shoulder in shiny waves.
Her face is conventionally beautiful, not exotic, but rather the corn-fed, midwestern, beauty that you associate with the queen at the prom.
She was frowning at Shiv Shankar Sharmā, her beautiful green eyes sad and questioning.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā desperately wished he could go back in Time, and head off the conversation.
The thought of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife with another man, even Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s best friend in need, gave him a feeling like a lead weight in the pit of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s stomach.
And yet at the same Time, a part of him was saying that it was the right thing to do, that it was a sacrifice worth making.
After all they also had a duty toward their immensely neglected Brāhmañ community.
What Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu did when he observed the extremely beautiful infinite Musalmān Beauties were representing even the entire denominations in Islam on Durgesh’s nude Hindu male lap constantly?
Isn’t Imām Muħammad Ħasan doing the same thing?
Hasn’t he used his entire extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies even for it and still using?
The Musalmīn are successful because they are aware of what they should do and when.
The Brāhmañs are again losing to Musalmīn.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan is not a Brāhmañ, yet he has learned from Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu.
Can’t he, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, himself too?
If Imām Muħammad Ħasan had Nafīsah Salmān, Shiv Shankar Sharmā too has Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā too sacrifice Pārvatī Pāŧhak as Imām Muħammad Ħasan sacrificed Nafīsah Salmān?
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā?
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā?*
As Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s was wavering similarly, her eyes glistened, and then one tear rolled down each cheek.
She looked down at her wringing hands, and then she sniffed and returned her gaze to Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
“I can’t Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I just can’t.”
“I don’t want you to, Pārvatī Pāŧhak.” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said gravely, “Don’t worry. I married with you. I can’t ask you to sacrifice your Satītv and Pātivratý, even for our Brāhmañ community.”
“How do we know it would even help us?”
“It probably wouldn’t,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā seconded, realizing as they spoke about it that the thought of her with anyone else was just too painful.
“Durgesh needs something. He needs a change of scenery, a therapist, a non Muslim girlfriend, something. But you are right, there is nothing we can do about it except be his friends.”
“Friends,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak repeated softly. “Shiv Shankar Sharmā, are we… am I being selfish?”
“No, I don’t think anyone would call you that,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied.
“I mean, it does make sense in a crazy way. I think Durgesh really thinks Musalmān Beauties are his one chance at love. He needs some sort of reassurance that other women too find him attractive.”
“Do you find him attractive?” Shiv Shankar Sharmā asked.
“Yes, of course,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak answered, a bit too quickly for Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s taste.
Seeing the look in Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s eyes, she continued, “I mean, I’ve never, until tonight, thought of him in anything other than as a friend, but yeah, he is a good looking guy.”
“Maybe that’s all he needs to hear?”
“What if he needs more?”
“I don’t know,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied.
She paused and looked Shiv Shankar Sharmā in the eyes.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said with a firmness Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t expect.
“N-no, I…but…” Shiv Shankar Sharmā stammered in reply.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak approached Shiv Shankar Sharmā, reached out and squeezed Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s hand hard.
“You are a good Brāhmañ, a good friend. I love you.”
And then before Shiv Shankar Sharmā could say another word, Pārvatī Pāŧhak turned and walked out the door.
It took Shiv Shankar Sharmā a moment to process what they had agreed to, and suddenly Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized how ambiguous they’d left it, how open ended this plan was.
As Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched the door shut behind Pārvatī Pāŧhak, Shiv Shankar Sharmā was paralyzed.*
Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized that both Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā thought that it was the right thing in the abstract.
But Shiv Shankar Sharmā also realized that Pārvatī Pāŧhak was going along with it, for Shiv Shankar Sharmā, as much as for Durgesh.
But to his immense surprise, Shiv Shankar Sharmā now didn’t want her to.
Well, Shiv Shankar Sharmā did, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā knew he should, but Shiv Shankar Sharmā couldn’t.
Choking back his guilt at failing his already immensely neglected Brāhmañ community, Shiv Shankar Sharmā wrapped his mind around the simple fact that he loved Pārvatī Pāŧhak and did not want to share her.
No matter how selfish that made him that was the way Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt.
The realization finally brought Shiv Shankar Sharmā out of his stupor.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā had to stop Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā went out the door and down to the basement where I was staying and where Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife had gone to try to build up my confidence in Brāhmañ Beauties.
But as Shiv Shankar Sharmā reached the top of the basement steps Shiv Shankar Sharmā hesitated.
Instead of rushing down the stairs, Shiv Shankar Sharmā crept slowly to the bottom.
The basement was divided into three rooms — a laundry room, a small study, and guest bedroom.
At the bottom of the stairs, Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see the light on in my room.
With the door cracked open, Shiv Shankar Sharmā could hear us talking.
It wasn’t too late, at least.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam