Al Nādir Al Ghāzī requested,
“Dad, if you really want to please Ammī by protecting my interests, you please make the property settlement with Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. She is too smart for me.”
“You said it, Ammī,”
“That ŧhonks you, I mean who fucks you,”
“Start with the fifty thousand, Dad. Do the best you can. Let’s see who pleases you sexually more, my Ammī, my sisters, cousins and their extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends or Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb. With myself cleaning their Musalmān Cunts and their perfect round firm plump Musalmān ass, of course.”
“Wallah, none!” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was immensely surprised.
“AIDS, cancer, what?”
“None, I said.”
“I don’t believe you.” Āmnah Azhar said, “It’s a medicine Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young Musalmān Lady Brigade claim to cure any otherwise incurable disease. Let Durgesh fuck your own womankind and lick their sexual secretions clean after it.”
“I know,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled, “But I don’t lick clean only my Musalmān womankind’s sexual secretions after Durgesh fucks them. I enjoy licking clean other beautiful Musalmān Cunts and other female Musalmān ass too. They tell me it’s a disease in itself that I myself love my humiliation so much that I can even die to have it.”
“Will you let me urinate into your open mouth?” suddenly Āmnah Azhar asked.
“Well, if Durgesh too urinates into my mouth simultaneously with you, yes. My Ammī, my sisters etcetera do it sometimes with Durgesh simultaneously. I enjoy it very much. Durgesh’s urine makes even their urine tastier.”
“You are suffering from mental sickness,” I said curtly, “there isn’t any taste in it. You only imagine it’s there.”
“Well,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said, “even if you are right, I refuse to get rid of my mental disease. I love it. I’ve an obsession to it now actually. I can’t live without this humiliation of mine if you say so. And remember I’m not alone. There are countless of us Musalmīn now.”
“I don’t think so.” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said gravely, obstinately.
“I think your sisters and your Ammī hated terrorism tremendously. You had soft corner to terrorism. Your Ammī and your sisters punished you for it ever since your childhood, instead of resorting to other positive remedies.”
“That may be right,” Āmnah Azhar agreed with me, “He is curable but it may take a long time.”*
The hotel was back from the main street, a high class, low, rambling hostelry that had apparently just been completed.
The adobe wall that surrounded the place had been freshly colorwashed.
It had an arched entrance and, farther along, an exit.
The two big cars crunched up the graveled driveway one after the other, came to a stop before an eye pleasing combination of ’dobe bricks, red tile roof, colorwashed walls and green cacti showing in a pastel color combination against the ’dobe.
Behind a desk a beautiful veiled/unveiled woman was sitting.
She beamed at us with friendly cordiality.
Āmnah Azhar smiled at him as if he was our servant and she was pleased with his services.
I disapproved of her arrogant behavior.
But Al Nādir Al Ghāzī only smiled,
“It’s okay with you, Ma’am?”
“Oh, sure, my boy,” Āmnah Azhar cooed at him graciously.
“Connecting bath?” the woman smiled.
“Separate,” Āmnah Azhar instructed curtly.
“It’s okay, Ma’am,” the woman laughed gracefully, “Sorry, I didn’t understand.”
“It’s all right,” Āmnah Azhar said majestically.
“Separate baths will be more expensive,” the woman smiled her warning.
“That’s all right,” Āmnah Azhar smiled her charming grace, “We want the best you have in the house.”
The woman’s beautiful eyes glistened.
“Ah, the Big Ma’am! She is accustomed to the best.”
“Yes,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled, “The Big Ma’am is on the Honeymoon.”
“Congratulations, Ma’am. Congratulations, Sir,” the woman congratulated Āmnah Azhar and me.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was enjoying it all.
He was habitual of enjoying his well calculated, well planned by himself, humiliations.
It was his own strategy to his success that never failed.
After all, how anyone could anticipate anyone planning to humiliate himself?
It kept them in dark about Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
None suspected ever the constantly humiliated moron.
And that defeated them.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī wasn’t moron at all.
He was actually the shrewdest operator in the family after his shrewdest ever-successful mastermind Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī.
Even his Ammī hadn’t realized it before Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī told her expressly.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had objected.
Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī used to laugh graciously.
Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī was the Woman of the House.
It wasn’t an ordinary sexual intercourse.
It was something more.
The Mexican woman kept smiling.
“You’ll get the best here, Ma’am. I have two beautiful connecting rooms. Yet, if you don’t want to share the bath, you’ve to take both the rooms, sorry. The room for the other señor must then be in the other wing.”
“That will be fine. I don’t want any interference from my servants. Right, Naddū?”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī felt immensely humiliated.
He never allowed anyone to call him ‘Naddū’, except his Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī Bājī.
Well, let the bitch too call him ‘Naddū’, as long as she lets him lick clean her ever-precious sexual secretions with me.
The more Ashvinātam sexual secretions of mine he licks the more powerful he is, even Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, the utmost successful of such persons, confirms it day and night.
He openly declares that he got rid of his physical incompetence completely licking his beautiful Musalmān houseladies’ Ashvinātam sexual secretions with me.
His wife Shamsah Salāħuddīn started it due to his physical incompetence.
She suggested Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, not an Imām then, to lick clean her sexual secretions with me.
Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī avoided at first.
Then Shamsah Salāħuddīn compelled him to lick clean her sexual secretions with me.
His daughters’ sanctity was in danger otherwise.
He licked clean his wife, Shamsah Salāħuddīn after I fucked her.
He did it with non-consent and enormous reluctance.
Yet, gradually he started to feel improvements in his physically incompetent body.
His daughter, Najmah Salāħuddīn, could not believe it.
“Abbū, you are certainly mistaken. It can’t happen ever. Ammī is cuckolding you, and you are surrendering to her and Durgesh. It’s plain nonsense.”
“Yes, Abbū.” Najmah Salāħuddīn said obediently.
“Can you do something for me?”
“Why are you asking me in such a manner, Abbū?” Najmah Salāħuddīn felt herself hurt, “I’m your daughter. I can do anything for you.”*
Āmnah Azhar herself picked up the pen and registered for the three of us.
“How about the cars?” Āmnah Azhar asked.
“Oh, the cars? You leave them right there in the driveway. No one ever steals a car from here.”
“You have a watchman?” Āmnah Azhar asked her somewhat curtly.
The beautiful young Mexican Musalmān woman smiled.
“No, no watchman. However, in this country, you are among the honest people. Nevertheless, as a precaution, just as a precaution, you lock the car and leave the key with me. I put them in the cash drawer. If it should be necessary to move the cars in the morning before you are up, the yard girl can do it and you do not need to be disturbed. Yet, your cars are safe.”
“Okay,” Āmnah Azhar said gravely, “I’ll lock up the cars, bring in the keys. Yet, how about the baggage?”
“The boy would bring it to your respective rooms.” She indicated to a man, instead of a boy.
“Naddū, you yourself bring my little overnight bag and Durgesh’s. Understand?”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī nodded obediently.
“Yes, Ma’am. Don’t worry. I’d myself take care of your baggage.”
“That’s a good boy,” Āmnah Azhar smiled graciously.
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Āmnah Azhar smiled at me.
“Durgesh darling, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to feel that matters are in your hands.”
I pulled her to me circling her waist, and kissed her on her lips.
“You needn’t to worry. Forget everything, Sweetheart.”
“I will show the excellent couple their honeymoon suite. You bring the baggage.”
The last sentence was addressed to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.*
Āmnah Azhar stood, then sank gracefully down until she lay there, arms and legs spread out, all ready to accept me.
“Come on Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, now!” she demanded seductively, “Get yourself undressed and come here. Come and fuck me! I need you so much! Forget your stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī for me, for ever. He doesn’t have enough manly vigor that his cut Musalmān noonī can ever penetrate me successfully optimum. You are already satisfying sexually countless beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān houseladies who were your ex daughters in law. Why the hell are you hesitating now?”
I looked gravely at my stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
He laughed bitterly.
“It’s alright, Dad. I am a Musalmān, not a Hindu. As such, we have different morals. You’ve your various stepAmmīs your Live in Relationship Partners now. We Musalmīn, sorry, Pseudo Musalmīn in your Musalmān Live in Relationship Partners’ and your ‘more ethical’ eyes can never even imagine it.”
Āmnah Azhar laughed sarcastically.
“You and your morals! Hahaha!”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled gravely.
“Go ahead, Dad. She has sucked you already. She is my Ammī now. She isn’t my wife any more according to Sharīåt-e-Islam.”
My clothes went flying in seconds as I advanced on Āmnah Azhar.
Āmnah Azhar’s extremely beautiful ever naughty Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes were shining brightly as she now opened her sexual lips apart; her hand sliding up and down her wild Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Come on Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I’m all ready for you,” Āmnah Azhar said, “Come and make love to me!”
I dropped to my knees beside her, drinking in the so erotic sight before me.
No way could I hold myself back now.
There was now a deep longing for her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body and a feral desire to empty my Hindu sperm inside her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Nature was winning and from now on, I wasn’t going to complain or hold back one inch!
Āmnah Azhar brought me back to reality as she now reached out with her arms.
“Bring your sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund here first Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Āmnah Azhar said, “I want to taste him first of all, once more. What a tastiest Uncut Hindu Lund you have! Allah Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah!”
On my knees now I crawled across the sheet until my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund swayed above her head.
I leaned forward to allow Āmnah Azhar’s head to lift up and her mouth to touch me.
I almost jumped as I felt the sweet touch of her quivering, red, crimson, beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips once more on my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
But instead of jerking away, my overriding movement was to thrust forward, realizing as I did so that Āmnah Azhar had simply opened her mouth and had now engulfed most of my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Come back Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Āmnah Azhar groaned, “I haven’t finished…”
“Don’t want to cum yet. My turn now,” I said as I repositioned myself astride her and leaned forward.
I heard Āmnah Azhar take a quick breath as my moistened Hindu erection touched her abdomen but it was higher up her young, twenty-eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body that now became the center of my attention.
Her gorgeous Musalmān breasts seemed to be bulging out as her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body prepared itself for sex.
In fact, all her sexual parts were in overdrive as she uncontrollably became more and more aroused.
She was glowing with health, vitality and sex appeal.
Somehow, I imagined her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot flooding with her ardent Musalmān lubrications and with my Hindu sperm.
I imagined her belly swollen with my child.
I imagined her plump, ever erect, proud Musalmān breasts leaking sprays of milk.
I knew that both Āmnah Azhar and I were very, very ready now.
My male Hindu lips descended onto one breast, loving the way her well-filled Musalmān flesh gave way and bounced back.
Her plump, ever erect, proud Musalmān breasts filled my ever experienced, handsome, strong Hindu hands beautifully as I alternated my kissing from one breast to the other; from one nipple to tit next.
Āmnah Azhar’s breath was coming faster now, her rib cage was heaving and I could feel that her heart was pounding.
Then leaving her plump, ever erect, proud Musalmān breasts I slowly moved down her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body, loving every inch of it; her sleek svelte figure alluring in every way.
“Not yet, I’m not,” I replied, my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund jerking as I spoke; a long dribble of precum sliding from it down onto her smooth beautiful Musalmān thigh, “I haven’t fucked you yet!”
“Allah, Oh God, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, yes, yes,” moaned Āmnah Azhar frantically, “Come on then, fuck me, fill me!”
I crawled up on her, until I was poised immediately above Āmnah Azhar’s wanton female Musalmān body.
My sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund was sliding now against her slippery Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān skin, not all that far from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I felt Āmnah Azhar’s pink, delicate, young, beautiful Musalmān hand grasp my Hindu erection and pull me towards her.
I simply couldn’t resist.
Why the hell should have I?
Because Āmnah Azhar was my ex stepdaughter in law?
Now, finally, I was about to penetrate Āmnah Azhar’s young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, pink, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with my supercharged sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Āmnah Azhar’s pink, delicate, young, beautiful Musalmān hand moved my stout Hindu knob up and down her pink Musalmān slit, obviously coating it in her generous Musalmān lubrications before aligning the end with the indentation that I could now feel; the entrance to her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, to her Musalmān womb itself.
“Come to me, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, please,” Āmnah Azhar said as her delicate young pink Musalmān hands pulled me closer, “Get your ever experienced, handsome, strong Uncut Hindu Lund inside me!”
There was a slight resistance before our slippery fluids eased her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān entrance and then I felt myself sliding, sliding into her hot wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hole.
“Aaaaahhhhhh!” breathed Āmnah Azhar, her eyes bright and wild, “Yessssss, yesssss! Allah Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah!”
I held myself in place, allowing her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body to get used to my rigid sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund before Āmnah Azhar’s arms pulled me once more.
“All the way, Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā,” Āmnah Azhar said, “All the way in now. Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
It was now my turn to moan.
Yet, with immense pride, triumphantly, of course!
“Yesssss! Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God – you’re lovely; so tight, so hot, so sweet!” I hissed as I gently allowed my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund to penetrate further into her grasping young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Oh Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, I’ve waited so long,” groaned Āmnah Azhar as I felt her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body lifting up to meet me, “Love me, just make love to me now!”
Instead of speaking I began moving up and down, sliding my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān depths to her entrance and back once more.
That was followed by soft grunts from Āmnah Azhar as I reached as far into her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body as I could penetrate; the tip of my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund now pushing hard against her Musalmān cervix.
I looked down at her and saw that Āmnah Azhar had a massive smile on her face; a look of pure female Musalmān delight and total absorption.
I smiled as well as I watched her immensely beautiful, young, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth fall open when I pushed my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund hard into her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body once again.
Hard but not violent, pushing but not driving; penetrating but not piercing; together we fucked steadily, our bodies coming together in unison; our minds united.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was watching immensely absorbed.
Durgesh was always the best.
It was the duty he was born for, perhaps, actually.
Durgesh always fucked them wildly, yet immense sophisticatedly ever.
It was unique.
“You weren’t a virgin?” I asked eventually and Āmnah Azhar shook her head.
“Well, I was a sort-of virgin Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā. I’ve had a ‘lover’, a husband, but you’re the first man to be inside me,” Āmnah Azhar said, “My hairbrush broke me in and my vibrator and things have been up there too but this is so much better – you’re alive inside me! I can feel all the veins on your sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund inside me. I can feel you sliding in me. You’re pulsing and throbbing in there, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said, as I continued to gently make love to Āmnah Azhar, “However, not getting close to coming even now, that’s why I’m throbbing only.”
“Oh good, Allah Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah! Fuck me nonstop now until I exist, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” moaned Āmnah Azhar, her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot now gripping my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund tighter, “However, ultimately, You’re going to fill me, aren’t you Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā?”
I hadn’t actually considered that subject.
I’d been too absorbed in just loving her but now the matter was not getting close even now.
A decision not had to be made soon.
I had tremendous time.
If there wasn’t the stockholders’ meeting, I could have really fucked Āmnah Azhar till infinity nonstop.
“Shouldn’t I pull out when I cum,” I said, “Don’t want you getting pregnant the first time!”
“Why ever not?” asked Āmnah Azhar, her beautiful Musalmān eyes locked onto mine, “I love you; I want you; I want to be with you, so why ever not?”
I smiled only.
Not responding to her question.
“Suppose I want to?” said Āmnah Azhar obstinately.
Her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was now very actively milking my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund, “I want to get my children out of the way early, so why not start right now? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī couldn’t give me any child. Won’t you too?”
My eyes opened wide as Āmnah Azhar spoke, knowing that in a few minutes that could indeed happen – or I could abort my mission and spray my seed on Āmnah Azhar’s body instead.
“Shall we try then?” I asked Āmnah Azhar and her immensely beautiful, young, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth beamed a huge smile back at me.
“Yes Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, yessss,” she cried, “Do it then – fill me!”
My mind had been shaken with the situation, so much so that lust had built up as if behind a dam inside me.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God,” I groaned as desire began to overcome me.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God,” I groaned again as my body began to drive my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund into Āmnah Azhar harder and faster.
“Oh yes, yes, Durgesh, Allah Allah, Måshā Allah, Subħān Allah! Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā – do it!” cried Āmnah Azhar, her young, twenty eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body now writhing wildly beneath me, “Don’t stop – I’m coming too!”
I couldn’t stop anyway now – I couldn’t even bring myself to withdraw – I could only power my pulsating sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund as far into her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, as I could, now feeling the rubbery entrance to her very Musalmān womb at the tip of my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Sensations were crawling all over me.
My whole body had gone mad as I seemed to turn into one enormous sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund as I slammed harder and harder into Āmnah Azhar’s beautiful, splendid, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
Sweat was dripping everywhere.
Juices were spraying around.
Limbs were flailing.
Voices were crying out.
Orgasms were coming, coming, cummmmming!!
With a final grunt I felt my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund jerk hard and blast off his first volley of molten fire.
My Hindu sperm was overflowing around my balls already!
I grunted again as another eruption took place; and another and yet another.
Āmnah Azhar had her immensely beautiful, young, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth tight shut and all her muscles had seized up – until suddenly she let it all out.
“Yessss DURGESH, ANANT MUSLIMĀTCHOD HINDU PIYĀ, – cummmmmming! I’m cummmming toooooooooooo!” Āmnah Azhar screamed, loud enough for me to look around to check that no-one had heard, “Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah! Oh God – I’m cumming so hard – can’t stop!”
Her young, twenty-eight years old, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body was jerking wildly around.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful, immensely enticing, ever inviting me, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing and sucking at my sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund, demanding every last drop of my Hindu semen be shed inside its welcoming Musalmān embrace.
Āmnah Azhar’s arms were tight around my neck; her legs tight over my Hindu male buttocks as she pulled me as far into her as she could.
In addition, I wasn’t about to disappoint her.
My sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund was firmly lodged against her cervix as my creamy Hindu sperm filled her up while Āmnah Azhar shook and shivered and jerked her way through what seemed like a never ending orgasm.
“Oh Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā, that was so wonderful,” said Āmnah Azhar as she finally came down from her female Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ecstasy, “If I’d have known it would be that good I’d have made you make love to me years ago!”
“Oh no, you wouldn’t have managed,” I replied, “I wouldn’t have let you.”
“Oh yeah?” she questioned me, “Just as well I didn’t try then!”
Slowly we collapsed, Āmnah Azhar lying on the bed and me with my lips resting on Āmnah Azhar’s.
We held our hands too.
My sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, immensely stout, Uncut Hindu Lund was still penetrating her young, twenty eight years old, extremely lovely, smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“What are you up to?” asked Āmnah Azhar as I moved between her legs once more, “What are you doing?”
“He has just realized I hadn’t done my duty,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī laughed, “I Didn’t clean you up!
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I felt the supple flesh of her big Musalmān breasts squash against the side of my Hindu chest.
They felt full and heavy, much different from those of the Musalmān Beauties I’d enjoyed so far.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn grazed her hand across my cheek.
“My precious baby’s husband …such a strength to me.”
“Anything you need, Ammījān,” I answered, giving her arm an assuring rub, not as I was her son in law, as if I was her own husband instead.
I knew she loved my such a behavior very much.
Her own behavior with me was itself as if I wasn’t her twenty eight years old daughter’s husband, her own husband instead.
I always felt erection whenever she was with me and I’ve felt her wetness too, on the pretext that my Uncut Hindu Lund accidentally touched her ravenous Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
It was a different matter she rubbed her Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot herself on my Uncut Hindu Lund whenever such an incident occurred.
I felt she deliberately managed such occurrences too much frequently.
Even then neither she had fucked me till now, nor I had fucked her.
Yet it was written in our body language expressly, entirely shamelessly, that we both wanted to fuck each other till our very existence.
None of us was ashamed of it.
We proudly flirted with each other.
Shamsah-salahuddin squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund deliberately every now and then.
I also hugged her, kissed her on her beautiful lips squeezed her breasts and buttocks whenever we were teasing each other.
Once she winked at me boldly.
“Hey, Hindu scoundrel, control yourself. I’m satisfied with my Musalmān husband.You can’t fuck me, understand?”
I laughed sarcastically,
“Sālī, you yourself want to fuck me. Why the hell otherwise you squeeze my Uncut Hindu Lund every now and then seductively?”
“Not seductively my boy, not seductively.” she laughed too winking at me smartly, “Playfully, teasingly. They say you are ultramodern. What the else you expect from an ultramodern mother in law, sister in law etcetera? How the hell otherwise we entertain you as your in laws?”
“Fuck me.” I winked at her.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund in such a manner that I couldn’t help but scream.
I entered my right palm in her panties between her legs.
She stood still.
I put it on her bare Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
She smiled at me teasingly.
“Very much.” I smiled lewdly yet still sophisticatedly,”Show it to me.”
“This is not for you.” she said teasingly, “I’ve given you my daughter for it.”
“I want the daughter’s Ammī as well.”
“Noway, my dear scoundrel Hindu son in law. I know you are fucking your most of the female in laws, but not me.”
“I’m equivalent to your own Ammī, idiot.”
My palm was still on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
We both were enjoying it very much.
The Sālī was an expert Cock-teaser, I knew now it very well.
She would let me fuck her ultimately, but not now.
And I was so excited that I wanted to fuck her immediately.
In the meantime, Shamsah Salāħuddīn had also brought my Uncut Hindu Lund out and now she was also playing with it, playfully, teasing me more and more.
I started to undress her.
It was not the bedroom.
I expected her protest.
It was her Rose Garden.
There were too many females too that were her intimate friends.
I had already fucked so many of them.
It was her deliberate policy to tease me in front of her intimate female friends and when I was too excited to control myself she used to let me fuck her extremely beautiful female friends.
She enjoyed watching me fuck her friends.
But she never let me fuck herself.*
I undressed Shamsah Salāħuddīn entirely.
Well, it wasn’t our first time teasing each other nude.
She let me undress her even before she allowed her daughter to marry me.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn had also undressed me entirely in the meantime.
Her friends were watching us with immense interest.
They knew they would have to let me fuck them ultimately.
Well, they were waiting for the golden opportunity themselves.
Suddenly Shamsah Salāħuddīn kissed my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I kissed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot in return.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn suddenly started to lick my Uncut Hindu Lund on its entire length.
My Hindu male lips were as if pasted now on her extremely fragrant Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
She closed her eyes in pleasure.
Well, her Musalmān husband, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, could also give her this pleasure.
She wanted the unique legendary pleasure from me that only I could provide to my women, no one else.
My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund!
My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund!
Well, she licked my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund for at least one hour completely.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān friends were smiling.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn always managed to give something new to me.
In broad daylight, Shamsah Salāħuddīn is nude with me in her famous Rose Garden openly under open sky.
She has herself undressed me too.
I’m also nude and kissing her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Perhaps I didn’t know that it was being captured in movie cameras too.
They didn’t know.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn is very shrewd very mysterious extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān lady.
She was herself a daughter of a Senator of Pakistan, a Jāgīrdār, a landlord.
Suddenly she swallowed my Uncut Hindu Lund in her mouth and started sucking it vehemently, passionately.
I enjoyed it very much.
But Shamsah Salāħuddīn enjoyed it more.
It was one of the unique things that only I could provide to her.
She could suck me for hours.
And for hours Shamsah Salāħuddīn really sucked me.
She couldn’t stop herself.
Yet she wasn’t ashamed of her even the slightest.
His absolutely incompetent Musalmān husband, Salāuddīn Ayyūbī,could never give her this pleasure.
His cut Musalmān nūnī was never capable to be sucked for hours.
It was not more than two inches long moreover.
Sucking my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund for hours,had its own unique sexual pleasure.
I was kissing her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot still now.
Suddenly, without any intimation, I pulled out my Uncut Hindu Lund from her still greedy mouth and shoved it into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot without any ultimatum.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn couldn’t believe it had happened.
My Uncut legendary Hindu Lund was really inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot entirely.
And it was throbbing inside her stretching her vaginal muscles beyond her imaginations.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn was startled.
She didn’t realize I am fucking her now wildly, aggressively and passionately.
I fucked her nonstop, not for hours, for days instead.
For a complete week Shamsah-salahuddin was as if in trance.
I fucked her in whatsoever manner, in whatsoever position, in whatsoever place I pleased.
Shamsah-salahuddin never resisted me.
Instead, her own body revolted against her.
It responded to my every action more wildly than even mine.
Her body betrayed her.
She was utmost angry to her own body.
It emitted infinite sexual bliss whenever my Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot deepest.
Her extremely greedy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot was absolutely shameless.
It greeted my Uncut Hindu Lund whenever it penetrated her, and clutched it with entire sexual strength it could muster.
Her gorgeous glamorous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān buttocks always gyrated to greet my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her extremely greedy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
She was very ashamed of her body.
But she couldn’t help it.
I fucked her nonstop for one complete week.*
Every cell of her extremely glamorous still athletic extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body was greeting my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.
Her daughter Najmah Salāħuddīn ultimately protested.
“I never knew you were so anxious to fuck my Ammī. Why the hell you Hindus are so incestuous? Enjoying your perfectly faithful
extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān wife’s Ammī even more than your own wife.”
I smiled fucking Shamsah Salāħuddīn.
“It’s not so, Najmah Salāħuddīn.”
“What do you mean? It’s for more than a month now that you are continuously fucking my innocent Ammījān, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, nonstop, either in this position or that. Isn’t it true?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn pushed back her glorious glamorous Musalmān buttocks into my nude male Hindu lap, swallowing my Uncut Hindu Lund absolutely into her extremely beautiful ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot deepest.
“It’s alright, Najmah Salāħuddīn,” Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled patiently, “More than one month has already passed. He has allowed me only to attend my natural calls and cleaning of my body. Except these occasions Durgesh never stopped fucking me wildly. I have to eat even being fucked by him.”
“I requested you Ammī, not to tease him so every now and then. Now look yourself. How excited Durgesh is for you.”
“It’s alright, baby. Let your Hindu husband fuck me. I want to see when he releases me from his nude ever lusting male Hindu lap. I’ve forgotten now remaining free. I think perhaps I myself can’t live without your Hindu husband’s ever ravenous Uncut Hindu Lund always penetrating my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot . From more than one month, I’m offering my Salwāt even being fucked by Durgesh constantly without any exception.”*
Shamsah Salāħuddīn slid her naked leg up across the top of her Hindu Son in law’s legs, grazing her tiny bare foot up my thigh.
I was excited by the feeling.
Soft smooth Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān skin was rubbing against my own.
“Thank you sweetie. I’m gonna need you a lot I think.”
Two hours later, sunshine peered though the shades.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn lifted her head off her Hindu Son in law’s chest and saw her daughter Najmah Salāħuddīn standing beside the bed, still in her PJ’s.
“Good morning sunshine,” Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled.
Najmah Salāħuddīn looked at her Hindu Husband and the way her Ammī, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, was nearly sprawled out on top of me.
“Why are you in Durgesh’s bed?”
“Your Hindu husband and I were cuddling somewhat this morning.” Shamsah Salāħuddīn tried to tease her daughter, “Any objection?”
Waking, I was kinda surprised by the way my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, lying on me.
One of her naked legs was still draped across my midsection and both her big Musalmān tits were now mashed against my Hindu chest.
A few of the top buttons to her blouse had popped open and I could see a huge bulging cleavage straining again the lacy hem of her white bra.
“Fucking hell.” I thought as I felt a surge of blood enter my Uncut Hindu Pecker. “Were the rumors true?”
“Oh, will you come cuddle with me next?” Najmah Salāħuddīn asked, with a cuteness that no Ammī could resist.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled.
“Well I would, but it looks like it’s time for you and your Hindu husband to get ready for the day.”
Najmah Salāħuddīn stomped out of the room in a tiff. “Aww, I hate the day.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled again, then propped herself up on her elbows, gazing down at me.
“Good morning, my dear son in law,” she said affectionately.
“Guess we fell asleep huh?” I said.
“Yeah, I guess so. Wish we didn’t have to get up though,” she answered, making a cute little pouty face.
My Hindu erection was now at full attention.
Having risen to her elbows, my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, was exposing a lot more tit-meat.
Huge bulging mounds of soft flesh were spilling over the tops of her bra cups and I found myself gawking into the deep gaping pocket of exposed cleavage, though quite tactfully and sophisticatedly, of course.
“Thank you for letting me snuggle. I sooo needed it,” she said.
“Anytime, Ammījān, Shamsah Salāħuddīn,” I said, significantly.
Najmah Salāħuddīn had once asked me teasing her Ammī not to call her Ammījān alone, Ammījān Shamsah Salāħuddīn instead.
She was only five years elder to me.
Calling her Ammījān only implied as if she was too older than I was.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn had permitted me only to tease her daughter in return.
Yet it was now routine, nevertheless.
As she slid off me, Shamsah Salāħuddīn‘s inner thigh rubbed across her Hindu Son in law’s long rigid Hindu love-muscle.
“I suppose I should get you two some breakfast.”
I lay there awkwardly, not even attempting to conceal the tent in my sheet.
When she herself was not careful, why the hell should I?
“Yeah, I’ll get up in a sec.”
Rising to her feet, Shamsah Salāħuddīn stood bedside, placed her hand on her extremely beautiful gorgeous exquisite Musalmān buttocks and smiled down at me.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about that you know.”
She glanced at the still obvious protrusion, then back into my eyes.
“That.” She smiled significantly.
“Ohh…yeah.” I mumbled boldly.
“You may be my first priority now, but I do know some things about the young men of your age. It’s called a piss hard-on and it probably gets like that every morning…am I right?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked, feeding me a quirky smile.
“Yeah…pretty much.” I almost winked at her.
Again, why the hell must I care, if she herself is talking of everything so boldly.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled proudly, bent over and poked her Hindu Son in law in the ribs, making me squirm.
“See, I know more about you than you think.”
I watched her stroll towards the door.
I could see the indentation of the hem of her panties through her skirt and her meaty Musalmān buttocks seemed to have little extra sway as she stepped towards the hallway.
Before rounding the corner, she peeked back, smiling almost naughtily and gave me a cute little wink.
The sheet rose upward as my rock hard Hindu erection flexed and throbbed beneath it.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, the Sālī was teasing me too.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn glanced at it and giggled.
“Show off.” She disappeared from the doorway.
“Eīshān .” I muttered excitedly, under my breath.*
That afternoon Shamsah Salāħuddīn took us over to see Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī at the hospital.
Najmah Salāħuddīn snuggled up beside her Abbū and Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s wife sat on the other side of me.
I sat across the room in a chair.
“I missed you Abbū.” Najmah Salāħuddīn said.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī kissed his daughter on the forehead.
“Missed you too pumpkin.”
She squeezed her father.
“I want you to come home.”
“Najmah Salāħuddīn, be careful honey, your Abbū is still quite sore.” Shamsah Salāħuddīn said.
She kissed him on the cheek.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī looked across at his son in law.
“That’s ok, precious. Durgesh, how you doin’ buddy?”
“I’m ok Abbū,” I answered.
Najmah Salāħuddīn seemed jealous that the attention was drawn from her.
“Ammī slept in my bed last night.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn fed her daughter a stern look.
“Najmah Salāħuddīn, hush your mouth.”
“Well you did, Ammī, didn’t you?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked at her husband as he returned an inquisitive smile.
“Durgesh and I were having a chat after I got home and I fell asleep on their bed.”
“Ammī was laying on top of him this morning.” Najmah Salāħuddīn said.
“Najmah Salāħuddīn…I most certainly was not, now I told you to hush. I was giving your husband a hug when she walked in…wasn’t I?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked, looking over at me.
I nodded, perfectly knowing my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, was lying and that I woke up with her on top of me, as if she wasn’t my Ammī in law, she was my wife herself, instead.
Yet I only exclaimed,
“Well I got good news. The doctor said I can come home in two days.” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said.
“Yay!” Najmah Salāħuddīn cheered.
“I’ll have to come back for physical therapy twice a week, but otherwise I’ll be good to go.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled and patted my hand. “That’s great sweetie.”
“Yeah, awesome, Abbū.” I added.
“Well, I better to get the kids home so they can get started on their work.” Shamsah Salāħuddīn said.
“Awww, I wanna stay with Abbū. ” Najmah Salāħuddīn whined in protest.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī hugged her tight.
“Abbū will be home in a few days pumpkin.”
They gave their hugs and said their goodbyes and Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī watched his little family move down the hallway towards the elevator.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn was wearing a pair of low cut jeans that looked as though they were sculpted around her luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ass.
She also wore a sexy white tank top and mini platform sandals with a 4 ½ inch heels.
As they waited for the elevator, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī took a second to admire how sexy her little feet looked ached in them.
Her cute little toes peeked out the bottom, with their red painted toenails.
There was no doubt that his wife of twenty years was still built like a brick shit house.
Again, he remembered peering back at her in the mirror as they made love so many times through the years.
He remembered staring at those smooth golden brown legs as they kept his body locked between them.
Her muscles tensing.
Her sexy little bare feet flexing.
Normally Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī would feel his penis get hard about now, but this time it wasn’t happening.
He glanced down at his lap as it lay flat and motionless.
The elevator door opened and just before they entered Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī noticed that Shamsah Salāħuddīn‘s hand slowly crept over into mine, interlacing her fingers between mine, then led me and their daughter into the elevator.*
Later that evening I was hanging out in my large walk-in closet.
I appropriately called this place my “Man Cave.”
I sat in a padded swing chair that was suspended by a large metal stand and was surrounded by a lot of my favorite things.
“Durgesh?” I heard my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, calling from inside my bedroom.
I glanced up from my laptop where I was chatting with pals on Facebook.
“In here, Ammījān,”
The closet door opened and Shamsah Salāħuddīn stepped inside.
“I should have known you’d be hanging out in your Man Cave,” she giggled.
“You know me, even better than your daughter, as if I’m not married to her, married to you instead.” I said.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn closed the door behind her.
Her hair was still damp and slicked back from a shower.
She wore nothing but a white short satin robe.
“Well I finally got your wife to sleep. Whiny little thing,” she said, making her Hindu Son in law giggle.
“You can say that again,” I added.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled as she moved past a large poster on the wall of voluptuous women in nothing but a white bra and panty set.
The women’s deep tan was nearly same shade as her own.
“Hey, Durgesh, my son, she’s pretty. Who is that one?”
I looked up the poster.
“Umm her name’s Denise Melani.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn smiled and pointed at the woman’s lacy, almost transparent bra.
“That’s funny; I think I have that same bra.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, I had no idea they had matching panties for it. Hmmm.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn strode past her Hindu Son in law and sat down on a small bench in front of me.
The robe gathered a bit at her waist exposing her smooth shapely legs in their entirety.
She rested both palms on the bench by her extremely beautiful gorgeous exquisite Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks, thrusting the swell of her huge boobs out just a little.
Her legs were together and her knees were slightly cocked to one side.
I could smell the sweet scent of her recently applied shea-butter and noticed that her tan legs looked nearly as smooth and smemery as the satin robe she was wearing.
“So, you must be excited for Abbū to come home finally,” I said.
“Yeah…I guess,” she answered unenthusiastically.
“It’s gonna be a big change for me, huh?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked at her Hindu Son in law and smiled.
“It’s gonna be a big change for all of us, which is kinda what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“They’re sending your Abbū home with his own bed, one of those fancy automated ones. He’ll be in a wheel chair, so he’ll need a lot of space. I thought maybe if you don’t mind, we could move the king sized bed down here and…I could share your room with you for awhile.”Shamsah Salāħuddīn explained.
My heart began to thump hard in my chest.
“You mean a bedroom to…like sleep in…together?
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled.
“Of course…that is what you do in a bedroom knucklehead.”
I smiled cunningly.
“No…umm, I don’t mind. Whatever I can do to help you, Ammījān, Shamsah Salāħuddīn.”
“I know your Abbū’s not gonna like the idea, but he has to deal with the realities of his injury. It’s just the way it has to be for now.”
I nodded, still flabbergasted, but not openly, secretly instead, by her request.
“I think I agree with you.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Are you sure you’re okay with being roommates with your Shamsah Salāħuddīn?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked with a smile.
“Yeah, of course, if she is really mine.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn placed her hands on her knees, leaning forward a little.
“You know buster…sharing a room with me might just have its advantages.”
“What kind of advantages?” I asked.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn peered up at the poster of the nearly naked woman, then back at me.
“You’ll see,” she said, with a mischievous smile.
“If Abbū’s coming home this weekend how are we gonna move all your stuff down here by Saturday?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn nodded.
“Well, tell you what, why don’t we keep you home you’re your work tomorrow and we can spend the day setting up our bedroom.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh great, now you tell me, after I did all that work for tomorrow.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn giggled.
“Oh stop your whining, You’re starting to sound like your little wife.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, Shamsah Salāħuddīn.” I dropped calling her Ammījān even now, deliberately and significantly.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn stood up, making her heavy tits bobble beneath the loose thin covering.
“Sadly, I think your right. Stand up here and give me a hug.”
I stood and Shamsah Salāħuddīn and I embraced.
The euphoric feeling of warm braless breasts against my young Hindu chest nearly took my breath away.
“Don’t stay up too late. You and I have a busy day tomorrow,” she said.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn started out, but then stopped at the door.
“Oh, and I’ll make a deal with you…cuz I’m gonna need some closet space. I’ll let you keep the back half of the man Cave, but in return I get to doll up our bedroom.”
“Doll up?” I asked.
“You know. Some delicate lace…lots of fluffy whites and pale pinks. You’ve seen my bedroom.”
“Ohh right…okay I guess.”
“It’ll be pretty…and comfy…you’ll see,” she said with a wink, almost seductive, as she stepped out the door.
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Imām Muħammad Ħasanmanaged to smile.
“Lady Robots? Well, Durgesh, my boy, I’m not a Vedic Monotheist Hindu. I’m a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān. I don’t need lady robots at all.”
“Well, Abbū, Naåīmah herself has purchased these lady robots expressly trained to serve her. How can I remove them?”
“Okay. It’s all right I think. I’ll try to adjust myself to this new environment. How many humans, however?”
“None, Abbū, of course.”
We had just entered into a room, crowded from floor to ceiling with book films.
Three fixed viewers with large twenty-four inch viewing panels set vertically were in three corners of the room.
The fourth contained an animation screen.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan tried to keep his patience.
Yet, he himself realized he wasn’t quite successful in keeping annoyance absolutely out of his voice.
“Did my daughter kick everyone out just to leave me rattling around alone in this mausoleum, tomb, vault?”
“It’s meant only for Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me.” I said respectfully, “A dwelling such as this for one couple is customary at Ved Nagar.”
“Every couple lives here like this?”
“Every couple, almost I mean.”
“Allah Allah, I’ll be damned, my son. What the hell do you need all the rooms for?”
“It’s convenient to devote a single room to a single purpose, Abbū. This is the library. There is also a music room, a gymnasium, a kitchen, a bakery, a dining room, a machine shop, various robot repair and testing rooms, ten bedrooms―”
“Stop. Allah,who takes care of all of this?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan swung his arms in a wide arc.
“There are a number of household robots. They have been purchased by Naåīmah herself.”
“Allah, let her do whatsoever she damn pleases. I don’t need all this.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan had the urge to sit down and refuge to budge.
Well, my nonstop lovemaking to Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was no problem for him.
He was habitual now perfectly to see me fucking various extremely beautiful absolutely shameless, rather proud of it instead, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies.
Was I really Param Purush?
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wondered once more.
Do I really have my infinite bodies?
Am I really fucking infinite dazzling Musalmān Beauties in my infinite bodies?
Does our nonstop infinite ashvinātam lovemaking really produce the initial Eīshān Vaigyānic energy that makes the Multiverse?
He couldn’t believe it.
Yes, the Musalmān Beauties and many of their Musalmān parents and other relatives also back it now.
But it’s because they had their own vile vested interests behind it.
They were immensely shameless selfish persons that could do anything for their worldly benefits.
To hell with them.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wanted to see no more rooms now.
“You can remain in one room, Abbū,” I said, “if you desire so. That was visualized as a possibility from the start. Nevertheless, the customs of Ved Nagar being what they are, it was considered wiser to honor you properly to allow this house to be built―”
“Built!” Imām Muħammad Ħasan stared at me as if I’d gone mad, “Built? Damn it. You mean this is built for me? All this? Specifically?”
“A thoroughly roboticized Eīshān Vaigyānic noble deeds centered economy―”
“Yes, I see what you’re going to say. What will you do with the house when all this is over?”
“Why, I said your own daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan owns it. It’s her guest house.”
“Guest house? Hell. Does every couple here own such a guest house too?”
“Almost. The couples who are not as Shaktimān as we are have somewhat lesser standard dwellings however.”
“You want to say that the principle of Shaktipāt and Shaktixaý is really true?”
“That’s my best opinion. But I never impose my conclusions on others. You can take your own decision.”
“Well, isn’t it true that you Hindus believe in it?”
“Sure, but you aren’t a Hindu. You aren’t bound with our beliefs.”
“You mean I can refuse openly that what you Hindus believe in isn’t true? And I still can live here in Ved Nagar?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t believe it.
He had been reported Hindus were more communal than even the Jews and the Christians were.
But if it was so−
“Sure,” I smiled affably, “why not? Ved Nagar, if it’s really Ved Nagar, shouldn’t it be even more Democratic than the rest of the cities?”*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled ironically.
“We, Musalmīn, can’t even imagine such a Democracy in any Musalmān city/nation.”
“Abbū, what do you want to say? Islam isn’t a Democratic religion ab initio?”
“Well, my wives claim I’m a Pseudo Musalmān. Do you think they’re right?”
“You know better, Abbū. Your wives cuckolded you, I never did it.”
“That’s right, my boy. But why are you asking then whether I believe Islam isn’t a Democratic religion ab initio?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “You’ve yourself written an article ‘Why did Islam face a Counter revolution at Karbala?’ You know very well the present day Islam found in most of the Musalmīn today is Pseudo Islam actually propounded by Yazīd Malåūn lånat ålayhi, don’t you?”*
I watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan gravely.
But to my immense surprise, Imām Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t actually paying attention to me or to what I was saying even.
Instead, Imām Muħammad Ħasan was watching, absolutely fascinated, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī’s still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt that was swallowing my legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund ravenously.
This man couldn’t be communal ever.
If he were, he couldn’t watch extremely beautiful Musalmān ladies swallowing, so eagerly and so aggressively, my Uncut Hindu Lund in their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunts.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, even at her undisputed eighty- sixth, aggressively fucking me ravenously.
Yes, I wasn’t fucking her.
She was fucking me.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was himself watching it with his own eyes.
Well, why the hell shouldn’t she, if she wants/needs it?
Why shouldn’t it be a personal matter between Durgesh and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī themselves?
Why the hell an entire society interfere in it, as the immense hypocrites Pseudo Musalmīn do?
If Durgesh is thirty three and he still enjoys fucking an eighty five years old, yet still incredibly, wonderfully capable to enjoy sex, well experienced Musalmān lady, why should Pseudo Musalmīn interfere?
Isn’t sexual intercourse an immensely private matter?*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s mobile started ringing suddenly.
He smiled at me.
“Excuse me.” He said and replied on the mobile,
“Hello, oh, yes, I’m speaking from Ved Nagar now… Yes, that’s right. …Let me ask my son in law first.”
He looked at me.
“Durgesh, one of my friends’ daughters, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, wants to retain you. She had talked with me when I was on the way from Makkah Al Mukarramah to Ved Nagar.”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī laughed.
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan, you know Durgesh’s reputation among us Musalmān Beauties.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“Well, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd is herself twenty eight. Why the hell shouldn’t we let her decide whether she needs Durgesh’s legal advice despite his Hindu husband of Musalmān Beauties reputation, his Hindu Al Buåūlatul Muslimāt image, or not?”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was as if crestfallen.
“What? What did you say?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“You think I’m really a Communal Musalmān. I’m really a Pseudo Musalmān. Don’t you?” *
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī pushed back her still miraculously extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī glorious gorgeous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks toward my nude Hindu lap and with a great proud exhibition she once more swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick into her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“Your own Musalmān house ladies tell all of us that you are a Criminal/Criminal minded Musalmān, a terrorist Musalmān. Now, tell me if a true Musalmān can be a Criminal/Criminal minded Musalmān ever? And if it cannot be ever, what are you if you are not a Pseudo Musalmān?”
“Most of you, rather I must say almost all of you our own Musalmān house ladies spread such a drastic lie about your own Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mankind. Why? Only to get sympathy from the rest of the world.”
“And you claim it’s a lie?” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī looked at Imām Muħammad Ħasan contemptuously.
“Well, not in every case, I do agree.”
“Not in most of the cases?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t answer.
“Answer me. Not in most of the cases?” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī insisted.
“Do you agree?”
“Well, unfortunately ‘yes’.”
“Then how is it a lie?”
“Your Musalmān house ladies aren’t spreading any lie against their own mankind. They are only speaking the truth. Hell, why don’t you Pseudo Musalmīn acknowledge the truth, instead of blaming us Musalmān Beauties?”*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan stepped into the field.
He never knew whether it was a superstition, his self-hypnotism, hallucination, truth or anything else.
Yet, it was true he was watching me in my so many bodies simultaneously.
It was a hall.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s entire extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Houseladies were present there.
He couldn’t believe his own eyes.
His grandmothers, both paternal and maternal, his Ammīs, his sisters, cousins, daughters, everyone was there in nude.
I was fucking all of them in different sex positions.
Every one of them had my separate body.
Well, they could have been humanoid robots too.
Ved Nagar was an extremely roboticized City.
All his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Houseladies had encircled him among them.
Some of them were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis.
Some of them were kissing, licking and sucking it ravenously, yet sophisticatedly nevertheless.
They were giving me a marvelous blowjob.
The circles his Musalmān Houseladies made around him weren’t perfectly round.
They were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis surrounding Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
It was said that my Uncut Hindu Penis with the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Houseladies set the controls.
Their play with my Uncut Hindu Penis worked as smoothly working starting lever.
He was feeling more and more energetic among them.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t surprised.
It wasn’t anything new to him.
He was quite used to it now.
The energy, generated thus, if any, was making him more and more energetic with every passing fraction of time.
Durgesh had said him,
“Despite my utmost efforts I couldn’t make your Musalmān Houseladies not to cuckold you. They insisted you are very dangerous to humanity. Well, since I couldn’t stop your cuckolding I want you to get its entire benefits, at least. That’s the most I can do for you, sorry, Abbū.”*
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gave his wife a final kiss before boarding the military aircraft.
“I don’t want you to go.” She whimpered.
“Honey, I have to…I’m sorry.”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn gazed up at him, her big green eyes full of tears.
“What if you get hurt…or get killed?”
“Babe, that’s not gonna happen…I promise you.” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said confidently.
As he boarded the plane with the rest of his battalion, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gave a final wave back at his family.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn forced a smile and waved back, her 28-year-old daughter Najmah Salāħuddīn stood by her side, holding her hand.
On the other side of her was Durgesh, her lean handsome 33-year-old son in law.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn treated me not as her Hindu Son in law in law.
She treated me as if I was her own son.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī never disappointed his wife Shamsah Salāħuddīn.
She had deliberately dropped her father’s name and was using her husband’s name instead, with her own name too, as well as with her extremely beautiful daughter, Najmah Salāħuddīn’s name.
In the face, Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked like a 38-year-old version of the Najmah Salāħuddīn.
Her body was what many would call voluptuous.
It’s not that she was fat, or even chubby for that matter.
She just had all the right curves, in all the right places.
Everyone took her to be Najmah Salāħuddīn’s elder sister, instead of her real Ammī that Shamsah Salāħuddīn actually was.
Even with his mind full of uncertainty, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī couldn’t help but admire her extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty from the door of the plane.
Her thin cotton baby-blue mini-skirt showed off the flowing contours of her extremely beautiful gorgeous exquisite Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks and left bare the golden brown glow of her long luscious Musalmān legs.
Her button up white satin stretch blouse hugged the enormity of her middle-aged yet still miraculously erect breasts.
Her sexy little feet were displayed in a pair of dainty sandals with a 4-inch heel.
A row of baby blue rhinestones lined the strap crossing her foot, right about her cute little toes with their painted toenails.
The site of her beautiful legs made Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī think about all those nights he had them wrapped around him.
All the times that Shamsah Salāħuddīn had clutched him with her silky softness while he bucked in the smooth warm flesh of her saddle.
While they did this, he would often look back in the mirror across from their bed and marvel at the way her strong legs were wrapped around his midsection, her tiny bare feet flexing and pointing towards the ceiling.
One of the other soldiers broke Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī from his trance.
“Commander Ayyūbī, we gotta move, sir.”
As the aircrafts door closed, Shamsah Salāħuddīn sniffled and wiped another tear away.
She slid her arm around her Hindu Son in law and leaned her head to one side, resting it on my shoulder.
It was nearly two month later that the roadside bomb rattled the humvee with Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī inside.
The vehicle toppled into the desert sand, its occupants SCREAMING in pain.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī only remembered a few moments before blacking out.
He hung upside down.
The door had imploded from the blast and crushed his legs.
He could feel the blood trickling from a gash in his forehead.
“Shamsah Salāħuddīn.” He muttered.
As his body went into shock, he had a sudden vision of his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, her big beaming green eyes staring into his…full of love.
He saw her silky tan legs through the mirror, clutching around him, her little feet flexing…bobbing in the air from the power of his thrusts.
Then…everything went black.*
He heard his name being called.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s eyes peered open and into the face of a military doctor.
“Can you hear me Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī? Can you hear my voice?” The man asked.
“Yes.” Came the reply.
“That’s good…that’s excellent.” The doctor smiled.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gazed around the room.
“Where am I?”
“You’re back home. You’re at the Base Hospital. You’re battalion took quite a hit. You’ve been in a coma for about six days.”
“Where’s my wife?” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī asked.
“She’s been here a lot by your side, but it’s the middle of the night. I’ll have the nurse call her right away,” the doctor said.
Thirty minutes later Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī heard the rushing CLICK of his wife’s heels moving up the hospital hallway.
She stepped into the room, her beautiful face glowing with anticipation.
“Ohhh Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī.” She said in relief, rushing over and carefully embracing him on the bed.
“Hi baby.” He said, nearly in tears himself.
The early morning hours passed and after a series of scans and examinations of Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, the doctor joined Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī and his wife in Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s room.
“So doc, my legs…are the done for good?” Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī asked.
“I’m afraid so, Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī. The force of that blast not only did severe damage to your legs, but also your spinal column. The good news is you still have healthy blood flow, which prevented us from having to amputate. However, it’s gonna be a long road to recovery,” the doctor explained.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn looked absolutely devastated.
“Will he have any chance of overcoming the paralysis, with the right type of physical therapy maybe?”
“I’m afraid at this point it looks permanent. The damage was just too severe. I’m sorry.”
The doctor left the room and Shamsah Salāħuddīn seemed to stare into space as if shocked by the news.
Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī squeezed her hand.
“I’m sorry baby.” He said.
“You lied.” She muttered.
She glared down at him, her eyes full of tears.
“You lied to me. You promised me nothing would happen to you over there. YOU FUCKING LIED!”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn stood up, pulled her hand away from Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī’s and began sobbing as she stormed out of the room.
“Shamsah Salāħuddīn…Shamsah Salāħuddīn, come back. Baby I’m…”*
It was nearly 5am when Shamsah Salāħuddīn arrived back home.
They chose a modest three-bedroom ranch in a middle-class neighborhood, just across town from base.
The middle aged, yet still extremely beautiful, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, moved up the hallway and peeked in on her daughter.
She found Najmah Salāħuddīn sleeping comfortably.
A few minutes later 33 year old Durgesh turned onto my side in bed.
My eyes peeked open and I saw my Ammī in law’s curvy silhouette in his doorway.
She was leaning with her hands against the doorframe and just seemed to be hovering there…watching me.
“Ammī, everything ok with Abbū?”
Shamsah Salāħuddīn slowly sashayed across the room and sat on her Hindu Son in law’s bedside.
“Thank you for staying here and watching your wife for me.”
“Oh, Of course…”
“Your Abbū’s awake, but I’m afraid his injuries are pretty extensive,” she said, then went on to explain the doctor’s findings.
“So when’s he coming home?” I asked.
“Not positive yet. The doctor said as early as a few days.”
“Wow, I can’t believe all of this has happened.” I muttered.
Tenderly, Shamsah Salāħuddīn had brushed her Hindu Son in law’s bangs out of my eyes with her long nails.
“That makes the two of us Durgesh, my dear son in law.” She said.
After a short silence, I heard my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn, sniffle.
“Don’t cry Ammī. It’ll be OK.”
She rubbed my strong shoulder.
“I know sweetie. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” I asked almost scolding her as if, yet still with immense respect.
I knew she was behind her daughter’s marriage with me.
There were strong rumors that she didn’t marry her daughter with me for her daughter actually.
She was herself after me.
My marriage with her daughter was only an excuse as she conditioned the marriage with asking me to let her daughter still with her.
It meant my frequent presence there nonstop.
Even in the dim early morning darkness, I could see my Ammī in law, Shamsah Salāħuddīn’s misty eyes, gazing down at me.
“Can I just…lay here with you for awhile? Do you mind?” Shamsah Salāħuddīn asked softly.
“No, not at all, Ammījān,” I said, scotching over on my small twin sized bed.
Shamsah Salāħuddīn slipped her little feet from their heels and curled her luscious legs up on her Hindu Son in law’s bed.
I was on my back.
She slid over close to me.
Lying on her side, she rested her head on my shoulder.
“Will you hold me, please?” She sniffled.
“Sure, Ammījān,” I muttered, curling my arms around her.
4. On History
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