“Then you don’t know either Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm or Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās. They are especially chosen by us to keep both of their eyes on Muħammad Ůsmān nonstop. There are some more arrangements in addition. But they are kept to be used in emergency only.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
She pulled a newspaper.
“Here it is.”
It was a classified ad.
‘Five thousand INR reward:
It is requested to the parties who were changing a tire on an automobile at the intersection of Bājīrāo Mastānī Avenue and Nargis Dutt Drive, at about five o’clock on the afternoon of the thirty first, to communicate with the Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
If they give a description optimum to identify the green Safari that was speeding east on Nargis Dutt Drive, and crashed into the Lincoln parked there facing east itself on Bājīrāo Mastānī Avenue, they will receive INR five thousand cash.
Bystanders think the young woman in this parked car jotted down the license number of the speeding green Safari but left the scene before the police arrived.
Any information from anyone leading to an identification of this hit and run driver will result in the prompt payment of INR five thousand cash.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
“I’m sure Muħammad Ůsmān has managed to sabotage it somehow. Otherwise, it had certainly produced some result till now. Everyone hates a hit and run driver.”
“Maybe the people in that parked automobile haven’t seen anything.” Kħadījah Muħammad suggested.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was already on her back now on the bed.
“There were a man and a woman in the car. It was a light colored Mercedes, fairly new.” I got between the magnificent nude legs of Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm, “They’d evidently just finished changing a tire.”*
I was already so excited that I couldn’t wait.
I pushed it and entered to the hilt.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm kissed me gratefully.
“The bystanders say the man was putting the flat tire back in the trunk when the accident happened. The woman wrote something down in a notebook. Apparently, it was the license number of the automobile that speeded away from the scene of the accident after slamming the Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Lincoln.”
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was happy being fucked by me so wildly.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled.
“Yes, Bājī. I have already told you so.”
“And you think there is money in it?”
I was still fucking her vigorously.
My Uncut Hindu Prick was vanishing into Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm’s Omani Årab Musalmān Cunt entirely to my Hindu balls, coming out anointed with her fragrant Omani Årab Musalmān vaginal juice till only its head remained inside, and then vanishing all over again to the hilt.
There was a superb lustful glint in Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm’s eyes.
To hell with Muħammad Ůsmān.
Why Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās only isn’t enough to keep an eye on that bastard?
Why it was necessary that Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm should also join the bastard as his confidential secretary?
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm debated whether, now that the chips were down, she wanted to go through with it or not.
Yes, Durgesh is her man now.
He is a brilliant barrister.
She is Muħammad Ůsmān’s confidential secretary for six years now.
To what extent Durgesh, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Kħadījah Muħammad have faith in her, is evident from the fact that they have put another shadow on the bastard, Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās, Muħammad Ůsmān’s second wife.
Is Muħammad Ůsmān really that dangerous?
And if so, should Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm interfere with his personal affairs?
Why the hell she didn’t do it?
How the hell she knows it’s really blackmail?
Suddenly she reached a decision.
“Yes, I think there is money in the suitcase.”
“I can’t explain the facts in another way.”
“What do you think the facts are?” I asked smiling.
“I’m Muħammad Ůsmān’s confidential secretary for the six years now. Naturally I know him somewhat more than the others.”
“Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās isn’t his wife for six years.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said curtly, “She is a new addition to confirm what I report to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Durgesh and you, isn’t misjudged by me.”
“I see.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“I don’t think so.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said patiently, “I open his mail, all of his mail. I separate it and arrange it in the order of its importance. I think he trusts me more than the rest of his employees even. We have been very close.”
“Not as close as his wife, yet.” Kħadījah Muħammad commented.
“Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās? She is married to him for four years only.”
The brightness in her eyes, as well as the triumphant smile on her lips increased.
She knew Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās also did the same for the same purpose.
The bloody bastard doesn’t deserve this great name.
His parents named him after Ħazrat Ůsmān bin Åffān razī Allāhu tålā ånahu.
He never tried to live his great name.
Being his secretary for six years now, Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm knows very well how many gambling joints Muħammad Ůsmān owns himself alone and how many with the other veteran Pseudo Musalmīn criminal/criminal minded persons.
She wouldn’t be surprised even if she would know some day, Muħammad Ůsmān is the Supremo of entire illegal gambling business on the globe.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled adjusting her nude legs on my equally nude shoulders.
“Well, I open all of Muħammad Ůsmān’s mails. I informed you a few days ago, he instructed me that in case any envelope was received bearing the return address A. M. Åbbās, I wasn’t to open it. I was to pass it along to him unopened.”
Kħadījah Muħammad looked at me.
“That aroused your curiosity, you said.”
“That’s right.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm also looked at me bravely.
“Such a letter was received?”
“Such a letter was received.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm admitted.
“I instructed you not to open it.”
“I didn’t.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said gravely, “Nevertheless I have the letter itself now. Here it is.”
She opened her purse and reached inside.
Kħadījah Muħammad and I exchanged swift glances.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm extracted a folded sheet of paper and unfolded it.
I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis until only its head remained inside and thrust it back more forcefully.
It vanished again to my balls.
“How did you get this?” I asked her.
“I saw a torn piece of paper in the wastebasket.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled cunningly and kissed me on my lips, “It had some words pasted on it.”
“It was unusual and I was put there by you folks to keep an eye especially on everything unusual.”
“I rummaged around in the wastebasket, found the other torn pieces of the letter and put them together.”
Taking the letter from her, I read it, holding it so Kħadījah Muħammad could also see the printed words.
‘GET MONEY. INSTRUCTIONS ON TELEPHONE. FAILURE WILL BE FATAL.’
“How about the envelope it came in?”
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm again reached in her purse and took out an envelope.
In the upper left hand corner of the envelope, there was a return address of A. M. Åbbās, General Delivery.
The envelope had been addressed on a typewriter.
“You get it this morning?” I asked.
“That’s right. The letter was in the morning mail. I found it in the wastebasket about an hour ago.”
“Alright. Now, tell me about the suitcase.”
“Well, this morning after the letter I saw Muħammad Ůsmān was exceptionally nervous.”
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed incredulously.
“Bosh and nonsense. He was putting an act to deceive you.”
“That’s right.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled, “I also suspected the same. Well, he told me to go down to a luggage store and get a suitcase. He said it was to be just a plain suitcase but it had to be strong and durable, nevertheless. He said the handle, particularly, had to be strong. Moreover, its sides must be so strong that the saleswoman could stand on it. He said he’d seen suitcases demonstrated in that way in some of the TV ads.”
“I went down and bought this suitcase. To check its strength I myself stood on it.”
“The suitcase has a lock.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled too, “There were two keys to the lock when it was sold to me. I took one of them and took its impression on a soap to make its duplicate.”
“I delivered the suitcase to Muħammad Ůsmān with both the original keys. He took the suitcase and went into his office. The suitcase was empty. When he came back, it was locked and it was heavy.”
“Didn’t he give you some instructions?”
“Oh sure. Muħammad Ůsmān told me that I had to perform a very delicate mission. He wanted me to take this suitcase and be very, very careful not to let it out of my possession, not to let anything happen to it. I was to go to the Union Depot and go to the place where they have the lockers―you know, the baggage lockers where you pay ten INR, deposit baggage and get a key.”
I nodded gravely.
Muħammad Ůsmān was certainly after something mischievous.
The return address on the envelope ‘A. M. Åbbās’ could easily be interpreted ‘Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās’, his second wife, and actually our agent.
Was he planning to implicate Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm too in the conspiracy?*
I made Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm to go on her knees and elbows.
Even while Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was reporting to me daily, and I kept my promise of fucking her while she was reporting to me, Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm was still more ravenous to enjoy me inside her more and more.
My sex kicks into her ultimate vaginal depths were already wild.
Even then, her sexual motions to my Hindu crotch were still wilder than mine were.
But she had to.
Damn Muħammad Ůsmān.
If only he wasn’t so, criminal/criminal minded Musalmān.
There isn’t any future of Pseudo Islam now anywhere.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm went on to say,
“I was to go to locker F786 and put this suitcase in there. I was to take out the key; put the key in an envelope addressed to A. M. Åbbās, General Delivery, put stamps on the envelope and put it in the mail. Then I was to return to the office.”
I squeezed her boobs still fucking her wildly.
“How long ago did you receive these instructions, Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm darling?”
“Just about twenty minutes ago.”
“I see. Now, what was to happen if the locker F786 was already in use?”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“If, suppose, someone had already put his/her baggage in there and taken the key out.” She explained to Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm, “Then what?”*
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm winked at us.
“Then I was to use anyone of the four adjacent lockers in the same row as F786 and to the left of that locker.”
Kħadījah Muħammad said,
“Aren’t you fighting against time, in that case, I mean?”
“Sure.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said increasing the already wild movements of her glorious and gorgeous Omani Årab Musalmān female buttocks to my Hindu crotch, “I’ve got my office car waiting downstairs. I want to open the suitcase and see what’s in it. There maybe even a bomb in it. We suspect Muħammad Ůsmān a potential terrorist after all.”
“Even if, as I rather suspect, it’s full of money, I want to take the numbers on some of the bills―all of them if we have time.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm said.
“Why didn’t you just open it?” Kħadījah Muħammad asked.
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm smiled.
“Do I look that foolish?”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled too.
“Banno, you are extremely beautiful. But that attribute you have is expedient to Durgesh and yourself, not to mine.”
“Then?” Kħadījah Muħammad laughed cunningly.
“I’m not working with that bastard, Muħammad Ůsmān, a blot to the great name of Ħazrat Ůsmān bin Åffān razī Allāhu tålā ånahu, in my own individual capacity. I’m doing it for an international organization: ‘Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad’.”
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm laughed too.
“You aren’t deceiving Durgesh even a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Durgesh isn’t imprudent enough not to understand who is masterminding it all actually.”
“Not I, Vallāh.”
“Wrong again. Idiot, try to concentrate on the cold and hard facts. Pitr’shrī knew Durgesh loved me more, not Saiyadah Fātimah PhD. I too loved Durgesh not any less than Saiyadah Fātimah PhD loved him. Yet, Pitr’shrī wanted Saiyadah Fātimah PhD must be Durgesh’s legal wife, not I. Why?”
“So what?” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm asked belligerently, “Even if so, what’s wrong in it?”
“Musalmīn?” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm, the Omani Årab Musalmān lioness, thundered, “You call them Musalmīn? Most of them aren’t Panjvaqtah Namāzī. Most of them haven’t studied Al Qur’an Al Karīm ever. Most of them haven’t gone through Aħādīs-e-muqaddasāt even. And you call them Musalmīn. Haha. They aren’t Musalmīn. They are Pseudo Musalmīn. I damn care what they bark about me. The hell with them.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam